#also I do not like this coloring but also I'm sick of looking at it and want to sleep soooooo

[rabbitindisguise]

also for the record, you can have a beautiful photoshop/ms paint cover and it will still be appealing to look at. because it's not AI and it's not some weird trend that people get sick of.

like look at this:

(sorry my touch pad is garbage right now so the screenshot got cut off part way through the crop, I need to get my laptop fixed)

I bet I can make it in like ten minutes and it's on the bestseller list

(okay, it took 25, but there it is)

obviously the centering is garbage and everything because I just slapped it together, and the color choices could use work, but like. It's doable for someone who doesn't even know what they're doing. Idk what advice there is up top because I haven't checked but I'm guessing it covers even more things. Personally I think it's fun just to make covers for the hell of it anyways, you deserve it

Too many writers are using generative 'AI' to make their book covers, so I've written a guide on how to make your own cover for free or cheap without turning to a machine.

If you can't afford to pay an artist, you CAN make your own!

I hope this is a helpful overview that covers the basics and points to some free resources.

[watermelongirl01]

Sweet Rescue - 03

Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Content warning: SMUT, a little angst if you squint, fluff.

A/N: This is my first smut writing, I know it is not full thing yet, but it's going to happen soon, trust me. So let me knoe if you like it.

Also, the Holidays were really exhausting, I got really sick and my asthma came back, but we are sooooo back, so expect more stuff soon.

Chapter Three 

“So, you haven’t got any?” You rolled your eyes.

“No, Charlie, we haven’t got there yet.”

“I can see that, you have increased the number of times you rolled your eyes at me by about four more times.

“No, that’s because you keep asking inappropriate questions.”

“You're my best friend, and you’re dating a hot firefighter, I think it is inappropriate if I don’t ask those kinds of questions.” 

“It's not, I promise.” You said as you kept working on decorating your cupcakes. 

A short silence invaded the kitchen, and for a few minutes, nobody said anything, not even Donna washing the dishes behind you.

You bit your bottom lip and let go of your piping bag, dropping it on the table with frustration. Both women look up at you with a knowing look.

“I don’t know, but every time we are close to doing it, something comes up, his work, my work, something ruins it and we pull apart.”

“Oh, Darling, I'm so sorry.” Donna said.

“Maybe you need to give the first step.” Charlie said while sneakily grabbing one of the cupcakes on the table.

“Oh, and say what? Want to come over to have some pizza and fuck me?” 

Both women shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“No!” You covered your face with your hands. “What if he says no?”

“What? He doesn´t like pizza?” Donna's question made you chuckle a little.

“I'm serious guys.”

“So are we.” Charlie said while eating the frosting of the cupcake she stole. “How about you just say: I don’t even know what’s gotten into me lately, but I wish it was you.” She said wiggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah, no, pass.” You shook your head.

“Just jump him already.” Donna said

“What if he doesn’t want me to jump him.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself?” Donna gasped.

“Hell, I want you to jump me.” Charlie added.

“Fine, fine. I’ll try.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, sweetheart, what are you baking?” A low, raspy voice rumbled from behind you.

You startled slightly. “De! What are you doing back here?”

Before you could turn around, he stepped closer, his presence warm and solid. His arms came up on each side of you, caging you gently against the table. The faint scent of his cologne made your head spin.

“I’m dating the owner,” he murmured, leaning in so his chest brushed against your back. “Turns out, her employees let me sneak into the kitchen every now and then.”

His hands found your waist, his touch warm and familiar, while his lips grazed the side of your neck.

You stifled a laugh, trying to keep your focus on the dough in front of you. “Ha! She should fire those employees.”

Dean chuckled against your skin, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Good luck with that,” he teased.

He didn’t let go, his hands staying firm on your waist as if he had no intention of letting you finish your work anytime soon.

“They just left, by the way.” He said as he placed a kiss on your neck, the spot of your skin just touched by his lips felt like tingling. You can’t believe he found your sensitive spot while you were covered in flour and icing of every damn color.

He immediately recognized the sound that your mouth let slip out, an involuntary reaction, a gentle pleasure gasp. So he placed another kiss on your neck, and another and another, he loved the way your body responded to his actions.

He began to explore your sensitive skin by tracing his lips all over the line of your jaw and the curve of your neck, Dean feeling delighted in the subtle shivers rippling through you. 

The slight arch of your back makes you press your ass against his boner.

“Sweetheart.” He breathed out as a warning

Your hips started to move, grinding over his clothed boner as he used his grip on you to draw you closer.

His lips started to suck on your skin and leave marks on it, and just as you felt his hands begin to wander all over, exploring the curves of your body, the ring of the oven timer reaching his time cut through the escalating heat. Snapping back to reality, Dean pulled apart.

“Got a little carried away, didn’t we?” He chuckled a hint of breathlessness still present in his voice.

“Yeah.” You turned around looking at his beautiful green eyes that held a hint of desire, mirroring your own. “It’s okay, we don’t need to stop.”

Without hesitation, my hand found the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss. The taste of his lips was exquisite, as always.

Dean reluctantly pulled apart once again. “Maybe we should have dinner first.” He smiled and placed a chest kiss on your lips. “Come on, you spend a lot of effort doing this dinner, let’s go upstairs.”

“Sure.” You gave him a sincere smile.

————————————————————————

Dinner had gone pretty well. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, shared stories, wholesome moments, and longing glances. Dean’s easy humor and the way his eyes lingered on you between jokes made your heart flutter more than once.

The evening ended with Dean’s favorite pie and the smile on his face when he took the first bite was worth every second you’d spent perfecting it.

Now, the two of you had migrated to the couch in your living room, the atmosphere warm and comfortable.

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, maybe it was the way Dean’s hand brushed against yours or the way his eyes darkened when he leaned a little closer, but one moment you were sitting side by side, and the next, you were straddling him.

His hands gripped your hips firmly as you kissed him, his thumbs brushed against your sides. you could feel the warmth of his palms through the fabric of your dress, leaving a trail of heat.

His fingers, warm and knowing, found the curve of your left breast, and the absence of your bra there sent a shiver down his spine, and yours.

 He followed with kisses along your neck before he slipped the thin straps of your dress from your shoulders.

 The material pooled around your waist, revealing your bare chest and the way he looked at you with adoration let your mouth gasp with pleasure once again.

He looked at you with his green pleading eyes, you didn’t exactly know what he was asking for, but you nodded, it was barely a movement, but that was all the permission he needed.

A filthy noise came out of your mouth, as you felt how his lips captured your nipple, alternating between a teasing swirl of his tongue and the deep suction of his lips while his other hand massaged your neglected boob. Your body arched against him.

“So good, Sweetheart ” His whisper was warm over your naked skin.

You couldn’t help but place your hand on his shoulders and grind against his hard length through his jeans, your dress slipping upwards to expose your bottom as you began riding him desperate for some friction. This granted him total access to your cheeks which he didn’t hesitate to use in his favor to cup them as he held you closer.

“Fuck, baby.” He let out with a low grunt.

Your fingers tangled in Dean’s hair, pulling him closer as your lips crashed together in a kiss filled with passion and raw desire. He matched your intensity effortlessly, his hands gripping your ass like he couldn’t bear to let go. His tongue teased and tangled with yours, sending sparks through your body, drawing a breathless gasp from you. 

While your hips keep quickly moving in search of some release, his hands on your ass helped to draw you as close as he wanted, making your panties soak.

But just as you were undoing the buttons of his lumberjack shirt, the room was filled with an annoying ringing sound. His phone.

His eyes didn’t lose that darkness melted with a spark of lust, but he still reached for his phone.

“Sorry, baby, I need to take this.” Dean’s voice was low as he carefully straightened up, gently moving you aside before standing. His touch lingered for a moment, but then he was gone, phone in hand, disappearing into another room for privacy.

You sat there, momentarily stunned by the abrupt interruption. Your heart still raced from moments ago, but now a faint sense of awkwardness crept in. Clearing your throat, you adjusted your dress and smoothed it out, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and disappointment.

When Dean finally returned, his expression was apologetic, his eyes soft with regret.

“Everything okay?” you asked gently, searching his face.

“Uh, work emergency,” he said with a sigh. “I need to go.”

“Oh.” The word came out quieter than you intended.

“Sorry, baby.” His voice was filled with genuine remorse.

You mustered a small smile, even though your chest ached just a little. “It’s okay, De”

He leaned in, brushing a kiss against your forehead, his touch warm despite the moment’s interruption. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You nodded, watching him leave, the sound of the door clicking shut.

————————————————————————

“So… How’s it going?” Sam asked, his voice casual but laced with curiosity.  

Both brothers were enjoying breakfast together, a rare quiet morning where they didn’t have to worry about any work shifts. This morning Dean had taken it upon himself to make pancakes for breakfast.

Dean didn’t look up as he flipped the pancakes. “Fine.”  

Sam arched an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Uh, Fine. That’s it?”  

Dean shot him a side-eye but didn’t elaborate. He focused on keeping the pancakes from burning. 

“Are you still dating the baker?” Sam asked, genuinely curious.

Dean’s lips quirked into a smile at the mention of you, and for the briefest moment, his usual tough-guy exterior softened. He didn’t respond right away, instead making sure the pancakes were just the right shade of golden brown.  

“Yeah,” he finally said.  

“And…?” Sam insisted, setting his coffee down and watching his brother closely. This was the first time in ages that he’d seen Dean genuinely smitten.

“Sam, if you want to know something, just ask.” Dean’s voice was light, but there was a hint of reluctance behind it.  

Sam grinned, leaning forward. “Well, I was wondering why you haven’t brought her up here yet. I mean, You used to have a new girl here every other week when we were off shift, and now there’s not a single soul in sight.”  

Dean’s movements stilled for a second, but he quickly masked it with a shrug. “She has her own place,” he said nonchalantly as if that were the end of it.  

Sam blinked, looking at his brother incredulously. “Is that it? 

Dean continued to pile pancakes onto Sam’s plate, avoiding Sam’s gaze. “And there’s always pie at her place.”  

Sam raised an eyebrow, amusement creeping into his voice. “It’s all about pie with you, huh?”  

“Sometimes.” Dean replied, still focused on what he was doing.

Sam put his coffee cup down and crossed his arms. “Wait a minute. Every time we talk about this, you get all specific with the details I never asked for. And half the time, I don’t ask anything and you still dump on me information I don’t want to know.”  

Dean bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding his brother’s gaze as he dumped the pan into the kitchen sink. He knew Sam had figured him out. This needed to stop.  

Sam raised an eyebrow, realizing something. “Wait… you haven’t had any sex yet.”  

Dean’s eyes shifted, and he forced an awkward half-laugh. “That’s not true. I’m having plenty.”  

Sam tilted his head, his suspicion growing. “Uh-huh.”

“Plus, Sex isn’t important to me.”

 He narrowed his eyes. “Since when?”  

Dean sighed, wiping his hands on a towel and looking at his brother. “Since now.”  

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, a huge grin spreading across his face. “You’re waiting.”  

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes. “I hate when you do this. I just don’t want her to think I’m just messing around, So I’ve been cock blocking myself until I feel like it’s the right and perfect time.”

He shook his head, amused. “Wow.”  

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean muttered, clearly uncomfortable.  

“No, no. It’s cute,” Sam said, still grinning. “I didn’t think you were the type to take things slow. I’m proud of you.”  

Dean’s face flushed slightly, though he tried to play it off. “Are you gonna keep slut-shaming me?”

“No, no,” Sam laughed. “Actually, I’m impressed. You’re growing up.”  

Dean groaned, shaking his head as he put the plate of pancakes in front of Sam. “Shut it, Sammy.”  

————————————————————————

“Who the hell ate my last piece of pie?” Dean grumbled, his voice rough as he glared around the firehouse common room, where a few firefighters were casually eating breakfast.

“Wow, someone’s cranky this morning,” Sam teased as he walked in, arms loaded with pastry boxes from your bakery.

Dean’s eyes lit up at the sight of his brother and the familiar boxes. “How’d it go?” he asked, tone shifting instantly to curiosity.

“Good.” Sam replied, though his brow furrowed slightly.

“Did she ask about me?” Dean leaned in, his face betraying a mix of hope and nervousness.

Sam tilted his head, giving his brother a weird look. “No.”

“No?” Dean groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Fuck”

“She was busy doing a delivery for an event.” Sam clarified, shrugging.

“Oh.” Dean’s smile disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared. “You think she went to that delivery because she thought I was coming to pick up the desserts like every morning and didn’t want to see me?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Why would she avoid you?”

Dean hesitated, then sighed, muttering as he headed toward the locker room, “Because I think I screwed it up.”

Sam, sensing there was more to the story, followed him. “Come on, spit it out.”

Dean hesitated again, then finally admitted, “I think the whole cock blocking thing it’s making everything worse.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “You still haven’t had sex with her?” His voice was loud enough to make Dean glare at him.

“Jesus, Sam, why don’t you yell it louder? I don’t think the entire firehouse heard you,” Dean snapped.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam said, lowering his voice. “What happened?”

“We, uh... we got carried away,” Dean started, shifting uncomfortably. “But then I got this stupid call, probably a wrong number but I made up a fake work emergency, so I left her house with a boner.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “God, this is even worse than I thought.”

“I know,” Dean groaned. “I think I hurt her feelings by leaving like that.”

“You think?” Sam shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Okay, fine, I did hurt her feelings,” Dean admitted, pacing back and forth. “Now I’m worried she thinks I don’t want her like that, and it’s killing me because I do. Believe me, she’s got the most beautiful boobs, and those noises of hers almost made me lose my mind.“

“Stop. Sam interrupted, holding up a hand. “I don’t need all the details, save it.”

Dean smirked, but it faded quickly. “It’s just... it’s hard, I’m trying to remind myself why I’m waiting, but every second I’m with her, it gets harder.”

Sam considered his brother for a moment before an idea struck him. “Why don’t you take her to the roadhouse tonight? Introduce her to us, you know, make it official. That’ll show her you’re serious about her.”

Dean paused, then a slow smile spread across his face. “Sammy, that’s probably the best idea you’ve ever had. Ever.”

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean fished his phone out of his pocket and hurried out of the locker room, grinning like a teenager.

“I will call her, right now.”

Leaning back against the wall, Sam shook his head with a smirk. Yeah, it was official, his brother was head over heels.

Tag List: @aylacavebear @deans-baby-momma @ladysparkles78 @spxideyver @lunaleah @muhahaha303 @charismatic-writer @deansimpalababy @spnaquakindgdom @globetrotter28 @vsplanet @narcissustulip @formulas-bitch

[radiodormouse]

Tries to Cook and Eat Girl (old art based on this passage from American Psycho)

Dawn. Sometime in November. Unable to sleep, writhing on my futon, still in a suit, my head feeling like someone has lit a bonfire on it, in it, a constant searing pain that keeps both eyes open, utterly helpless. There are no drugs, no food, no liquor that can appease the forcefulness of this greedy pain; all my muscles are stiff, all my nerves burning, on fire. I'm taking Sontinex by the hour since I've run out of Dalmane, but nothing really helps and soon even the box of Sominex is empty. Things are lying in the corner of my bedroom: a pair of girl's shoes from Edward Susan Bennis Allen, a hand with the thumb and forefinger missing, the new issue of Vanity Fair splashed with someone's blood, a cummerbund drenched with gore, and from the kitchen wafting into the bedroom is the fresh smell of blood cooking, and when I stumble up out of bed into the living room, the walls are breathing, the stench of decay smothers everything. I light a cigar, hoping the smoke will mask at least some of it.

Her br**sts have been chopped off and they look blue and deflated, the ni**les a disconcerting shade of brown. Surrounded by dried black blood, they lie, rather delicately, on a china plate I bought at the Pottery Barn on top of the Wurlitzer jukebox in the corner, though I don't remember doing this. I have also shaved all the skin and most of the muscle off her face so that it resembles a skull with a long, flowing mane of blond hair falling from it, which is connected to a full, cold corpse; its eyes are open, the actual eyeballs hanging out of their sockets by their stalks. Most of her chest is indistinguishable from her neck, which looks like ground-up meat, her stomach resembles the eggplant and goat cheese lasagna at Il Marlibro or some other kind of dog food, the dominant colors red and white and brown. A few of her intestines are smeared across one wall and others are mashed up into balls that lie strewn across the glasstop coffee table like long blue snakes, mutant worms. The patches of skin left on her body are blue-gray, the color of tinfoil. Her vagina has discharged a brownish syrupy fluid that smells like a sick animal, as if that rat had been forced back up in there, had been digested or something.

I spend the next fifteen minutes beside myself, pulling out a bluish rope of intestine, most of it still connected to the body, and shoving it into my mouth, choking on it, and it feels moist in my mouth and it's filled with some kind of paste which smells bad. After an hour of digging, I detach her spinal cord and decide to Federal Express the thing without cleaning it, wrapped in tissue, under a different name, to Leona Helmsley. I want to drink this girl's blood as if it were champagne and I plunge my face deep into what's left of her stomach, scratching my chomping jaw on a broken rib. The huge new television set is on in one of the rooms, first blaring out The Patty Winters Show, whose topic today is Human Dairies, then a game show, Wheel of Fortune, and the applause coming from the studio audience sounds like static each time a new letter is turned. I'm loosening the tie I'm still wearing with a blood-soaked hand, breathing in deeply. This is my reality. Everything outside of this is like some movie I once saw.

[arsenicpanda]

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S (2023)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Marvel Meow (2021), Nao Fuji | Professor X and Magneto

Bonus:

[toxicwrench]

hbd clown boy sorry for being almost a week late or whatever

[boyharder]

continually infuriated with SC for her portrayals of black people and district 11 and i'm again going to touch on her portrayal of thresh, very specifically how he talks/his speech & some other tidbits. (as a black person, because i fear that has to be made clear.)

let's take a look at these. if you've read my post on my issues with d11, you'll recognize that they were also in that post and explained upon.

it is so redundant to have a black character whom in which is already a stereotype in and of itself to be further stereotypical. thresh is a "physical wonder," made out as if he's more of a beast than a person despite being an outlier & not trained like a career. he's made to seem intimidating and imposing and all around terrifying for someone like katniss, who differs in statute and mass. that's strike one. in most media, black = intimidating. which is not only harmful but just endlessly racist. now, for the extracts above, his speech.

SC has managed to imply a lack of education or a lack of understanding of speech, just from how thresh speaks alone. (“you kill her?” / “i let you go.”) he lacks the typical “did you” or “i'll let you” in both those phrases, with the words shortened to impose the idea that he isn't very grammatical. i don't have to explain to you why that's problematic. we could go through the slavery talk and how black people were discouraged from any level of education when possible, as their jobs were simply to work on the fields/plantations. SC imposes an impression that the people of 11 are not entirely grammatically educated from thresh's speech alone. yes, there's rue in comparison — who seems to speak fine despite being younger than thresh, which is a very specific thing that sticks out. you have thresh being quiet, reserved and only physically imposing. you add his level of speech to it, and it paints a very shitty picture which shows that she doesn't really know what she's doing and she's basing him off of an idea of a black person and not ... an actual black person.

thresh spares katniss, but at the same time acts out in a very brutal sort of violence prior in which is almost primitive with how it's portrayed — he's one of the only tributes that doesn't use a weapon such as a knife, bow, sword, etc. he picks up something from his environment. to me, SC characterizes him as something closer to a caveman, rather than a terrified teenager running on justice and a need to survive. she draws back to the old racist beliefs of black people (and by extension, black men) as being capable of only abhorrent violence, uneducated and worse, near uncivilized. it's a death game, people are going to be out of their usual selves in order to vie for the spot of victor, which is understandable, but it does not look good for him. it just doesn't look like she understood the drawbacks to writing thresh in such a loaded way (loaded being microagressive and heavily stigmatized.)

peeta (equally physically imposing) literally joins the careers, the brainwashed, bloodthirsty bunch of teens that thrive on murder in order to bring glory to their district, but thresh is the significantly physically imposing one and gets to be painted in such a harsh and violent light despite intention and circumstance. yesss. very telling. thresh does one good deed & shows himself to be a thoughtful and understanding person despite his traits and suddenly we all think that means that SC understands how to write a black person positively. nooooo. unfortunately not.

[talkorsomething]

I have Got to get more transgender

[sassyhazelowl]

Me @ the local exotic bird fair: I'm way too white for this -- oh *gasp* ITS A CHICKEN *immediately bypasses the emus and parrots to see the modern game bantams and old english games in the back*

[gxlden-angels]

Hello! I apologize if this is a nosy question, but what is the silly feelings wheel app you were talking about in a previous post? My therapist and I have been working on identifying feelings but I still very much rely on a list of feeling words to have any idea what I’m feeling, so it could be a helpful resource. No worries if you don’t want to share, just thought I would ask :)

It's called How We Feel! I'm not sure if it's available on all devices yet, but it's on ios and the google play store for sure.

I've been using it for about a year. It's more of a chart than a wheel but people usually recognize the wheel better so that's what I call it. When you first start it has a 10-part tutorial about emotional acceptance and regulation, then it has suggestions for each category of emotion. You can access both at any time tho after those first 10 days.

It has a share option so you can have friends, which has been great for me cause it prompts me to check on friends and them to do the same for me. It allows you to just respond with a little emoji in like a "I'm here for you" little notification to your friend, or you can reach out to your friend on your own. Its really helped me cause I'm bad at reaching out when I need support so to me and I'm bad about taking on other's problems even when I can't handle it so being able to send a little emoji instead to make sure my friends know I'm there if they need me and them doing the same has been great

[reploidbuddy]

I will post a Narrows chapter before the end of the year <3 just a heads up

[mesetacadre]

how do you feel about a heavy portion of communists being ableist? sending disabled people to prison for being physically unable to work and then acting like that didn't happen doesn't make disabled people confident that communism won't hurt them just as bad as capitalism (I'm not saying billions of trillions dies from communism I'm just saying ''those who won't work won't eat'' is fucking evil especially when I see that rhetoric in modern day! You can say 'oh a wheelchair user can do teaching or archiving' but that ignores how many disabled people are bedbound or fully paralyzed!)

ARTICLE 12. In the U.S.S.R. work is a duty and a matter of honour for every able-bodied citizen, in accordance with the principle: "He who does not work, neither shall he eat."

The principle applied in the U.S.S.R. is that of socialism : "From each according to his ability, to each according to his work."

[...]

ARTICLE 120. Citizens of the U.S.S.R. have the right to maintenance in old age and also in the case of sickness or loss of capacity to work.

This right is ensured by the extensive development of social insurance of workers and employees at state expense, free medical service for the working people and the provision of a wide network of health resorts for the use of the working people.

This is the USSR's 1936 consistution, emphasis mine. Not a perfect constitution by any means, but this is very clearly antithetical to what you believe happened. Disabled people in my own country today have less rights and even less guarantees of those rights being respected. Again, the USSR was not perfect and I'm not saying it was. But you're ascribing willful malice that is embedded in marxism to circumstances that were not easily circumvented. The USSR was an imperfect state lacking in sufficient social protections, which came from times of feudalism without any kind of protection in any aspects save for the nobility, and whose collapse led to unparalleled misery and war. "He who does not work shall not eat" never included disabled people. It's a slogan, and slogans are not nuanced. What the USSR never did was enshrine that slogan into law literally, it always explicitly addressed able-bodied people.

Let's also look at a more modern constitution, Cuba's, from 2019

ARTICLE 42. All people are equal before the law, recieve the same protection and treatment from authorities and enjoy the same rights, freedoms and opportunities, without discrimination on the basis of sex, gender, sexual orientation, gender identity, age, ethnic origin, skin color, religious faith, disability, national or territorial origin, or any other condition or personal circumstance that implies a harmful distinction before human dignity.

All have the right to enjoy the same public spaces and establishments.

Likewise, receive the same salary for the same work, without any discrimination.

The violation of the principle of equality is outlawed and is sanctioned by law.

[...]

ARTICLE 64. The right to work is recognized. The person in condition to work has a right to obtain dignified employment, corresponding to their selection, qualification, aptitude, and economic and societal requirements.

ARTICLE 65. Every person has a right for their work to be compensated as a function of its quality and quantity, expression of the socialist principle "from each according to their capacity, to each according to their work".

[...]

ARTICLE 68. The person who works has a right to social security. The State, through the system of social security, guarantees their adequate protection when they are unable to work because of age, maternity, paternity, disability, or illness.

[...]

ARTICLE 70. The State, through social assistance, protects the people without resources or refuge, not capable of working, who lack family members able to bring them help; and to families who, due to the insufficient income they recieve, if they so choose, in accordance with the law

I don't see anywhere a part that says all disabled people are jailed. Cuba definitely does have effective and real protections for all kinds of disabled people, and just like the USSR, the principle of the duty to work is not applied directly to disabled people. It's hard still to find information on the practical application of disability protection that's not funded by Radio Free Whatever, but here's an article about Cuba's:

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear boyfriend Toji who dreads getting sick more than the average person. He gets so grumpy during this little stunt in his health because he can't do much besides manage his harsh cough and runny nose, rest in bed and eat, but that's not even what he's most upset about. He's so pissed off that he can't be around you, unless he wants to get you sick too.

Oh, but you make it so hard on him. Walking into the room with a mug of tea with that smile that could nurse anyone back to health. You linger for longer than you should, even after he told you that if you're in there for too long, you'll get sick too. It's an annoying dilemma because on one end, watching you be sick is one of the most heart wrenching things he's ever seen. Like him, you pretend that you're fine, when really you feel so debilitated by the virus that invaded your immune system. You tell him you feel better, but your hearing is muffled and your voice is gravelly and doesn't seem to be recovering quickly. Toji sees right through it and his protective instincts kick in. He insists on doing everything necessary to get you back up and running. On the other end, he wants to see you and kiss you and just hold onto you through this horrible time he's having. He hasn't kissed you in almost three days. It really sucks that he's sick, but it's entirely unfair that you can't be near him. There is truly so much for him to be reasonably grumpy about.

"Hey, you're gonna get wrinkles on your handsome face," you say, smoothing down the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. "Do you really want me out of here that bad?"

He sighs. Your cool hands are heaven on his burning skin. "You know I don't, ma," he croaks out, pulling your hand down from his face and holding it. "I want you here, but you can't stay."

"Baby, you lost your pretty color. You look like a zombie, but also, it's killing me to only be allowed to check on you once every hour. I think it's time I come sleep in here, again."

"No," he protests, while shaking his head. He wishes he had rethought the gesture once he's steady again. He feels like he shook his brain and his head hurts, now.

"Toji, i'm taking care of you. I'm sleeping in our bed, tonight. I'm more worried about you than I am about getting sick."

He wants to laugh at how you sound like a mother scolding her child, but he knows it'll throw him into a nasty coughing fit. He can't argue with you too much in this state. He doesn't want to argue anyway. You care and it feels nice.

"If I get sick, I get sick," you say, settling down next to him, on your side of the bed.

Toji has never been one to pull the 'woe is me' card, but when you're smothering him with so much affection and cooing at him while caressing his uncomfortably warm face, it's hard not to lean into it. You relieve his discomfort with your methods of care. Be it medicinal remedies or your extra love and affection, even your patience. You weren't the one who proposed keeping distance from him. You didn't want to sleep on the couch those last couple nights, but you did it for the sake of letting Toji be comfortable. He's your lover and you don't see a reason to avoid him, like what he has is something more fatal. His contagiousness is disregarded, because it doesn't matter.

You know he would do the same for you so you don't wrinkle your nose when he starts feeling safe enough to nuzzle into you and sluggishly kiss you, while clinging onto you. He's extra clingy, too. Your body is a lot cooler than his, so it feels nice when he rests his cheek on your chest or when his hot, clammy hands go to your arms. You don't turn away or block your face when he coughs. You rub menthol onto his reddened chest and neck, and watch as he grins dumbly when his nose clears up for a little. When he falls asleep, you stay with him, even if he doesn't wake up for the next five hours. You watch over him and only get up to grab things that are necessary, like his medicine, some water, and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead and neck.

He takes on the role of the little spoon when you take care of him. Being pampered by you makes him feel small in all the best ways. He feels protected, like you're his guardian. It's really as if the only remedy he needs is you. The expanse of your love for him is unquantifiable, but when you wrap your smaller arms around him and press featherlight kisses onto his skin, it's like a force field that blankets him.

[neverendingford]

.

[oreo-creampie]

𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pure intense fluff, kissing, cuddling, squeezing, handsy pouty bastard, insisting you’ve been neglecting him, his is dying and it’s all your fault, how dare you do this to him, he will hold you accountable for your heinous crimes by cuddling you, toji is going soft for you, established relationship

Standing in front of your vanity, slipping your earrings off, sticking them with the rest. Glancing into your vanity mirror when Toji emerges from the bathroom.

Arms crossed over his bare pecs sticking his bottom lip out in his adorable pout. It’s one of your favorite Toji expressions. He huffs, “Finally someone figures where they live.”

He unzips the back of your dress. “You weren’t here!” kissing your shoulder. Slipping it down your body, trailing gentle sloppy kisses down your back. “The house was so empty and cold, I was dying of loneliness little mama.”

Stepping out of your dress, he tossing it into the hamper beside the bedroom door. “Is it even a home without you there?” His warm fingers brushing against your back unclasping your bra, gliding the straps off your shoulders. His touch comforting.

You insist, “Without you this place is just some walls.” Grabbing his hands, kissing his warm palms. Glancing into the mirror, Toji “It’s also not my fault you showed up two days early. Couldn't rush a planned girl’s night for your needy ass.” Turning around sliding your hand over his thick pecs, broad shoulder and into his soft dark hair.

“Im only needy when it comes you to mama. You’re so cruel neglecting me.” Grabbing your ass, lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his slim waist.

“We aren't leaving for the weekend. Tired of seeing everyone’s ugly ass faces and hearing their annoying ass voices.” He kisses the top of your head. “Just need to spend some time with you mama.” Wrapping his arms around your waist, squeezing your tightly.

Wheezing, “I'm all your’s Teddy Bear!” Your back pops several times. Gasping for sweet air when he loosens his gasp.

“Damn right you are.” Kissing along Toji’s jawline, softly biting his pouty bottom lip, melting into his gentle kiss.“It’s not fair mama I can't squeeze you like I want to.” Carrying you through the hallway, towards the living room. “Get good mama, lemme squeeze you tighter.”

“Nah Teddy Bear that’s a you problem.” Squeezing Toji’s slim waist with your legs, tightening your grasp around Toji’s neck. “I can hug you as tight as I want. Ha-ha-haha!” Ripping you off him and throwing you onto the sofa.

“Imma make it your problem little mama.” Carefully falling on top of you, pinning your body with his weight. Resting his head on your chest. “Hahah! Looks whose trapped now! I’m not letting you go anywhere beautiful.”

Pushing himself up, and leaning in for a kiss. “All mine.” Parting your lips, the gentle hunger of his passionate kiss replacing your need for air. Slipping your fingers through his soft dark hair.

When he pulls away, covering your face with kisses. You grin widelyz “I missed ya so much teddy bear, I’m all your’s for the rest of the week. I’ll make sure you get sick of me.” Giving your forehead another gentle kiss, squeezing your hips.

It’s comforting having his heavy weight pressing you into the bed. His large strong hands on your body making you feel so safe and protected. His gentle kisses and words ensuring you know how cherished you are.

His cheeks turn pink, spreading across the bridge of his nose, coloring the tips of his ears. “I can never get enough of you.” His eyes widen. “Listen to me, ya made me all mushy, gonna have to hold you responsible. Hmm how should I do that.”

Oreo creampie’s m.list

Satoru’s verison!

[palskippah]

Hi!! Nimona Tangled AU my beloved 🗣️🗣️

Here's drawings of some of the stuff I can remember of the movie woo

Also under the cut are some random thoughts too c:

(Apologies on any mistakes! I tried checking in to make sure that everything was correctly written)

-Save me, PNG of a frying pan.

-By the way, I've only watched the movie (several times) in Spanish, never in English, so not only I am writing what I can actually remember of the dialogue, but also I'm translating it into English djfdk clarifying this in case it feels weird

-I think it was Ambrosius' voice actor who mentioned about the discarded idea of the queen being Ambrosius' mother, but anyways here she is his mother and Ambrosius was stolen from his crib and all that

>Invented Ambrosius a dad called King Something-Something and the guy definitely cried like Rapunzel's dad when him and his wife were getting ready to send floating the first lantern (I swear, that scene is my favorite in the whole movie, it's just so aaa hitting me right in the daddy issues, he was missing his daughter so much)

>Then Queen Valerin wipes the king's tears very tenderly while feeling very melancholic herself, but she doesn't cry because she had accepted long ago that their son was never coming back, but she knows that her husband is still hopeful about it, even if each year he gets disappointed.

-Instead of it being Queen Valerin who was sick, it was Ambrosius who was born as a sickly baby (stealing comic Nimona's lore a bit here sjdkf), and so in all the kingdom they went to look for a cure for his sickness because otherwise they were sure he wouldn't make it.

>Then they find the flower and they give it to him and from then on he becomes a very healthy, robust baby. Also he started quickly growing blond hair with the weeks and they were like ? okay, but he's healthy, so-!

>(It would've been cool to color Ambrosius' tip of his blonde hair brown like his haircolor is supposed to be but I forgor and I'm too lazy to fix it sjdfkjs)

>Anyways the Director thought that she had lost the power of the flower forever since they fed it to the prince, but then she's like :0 bc hey it seems that the powers transferred to the baby. And she's like, well, that works too, and tried to get his hair but it didn't work so she planned on kidnapping him instead.

>Maybe she kidnapped him like when he was a toddler or lil kid under four or very young so he wouldn't remember his parents or anything prince-related, that's why twenty years went by and yet Ambrosius is older than that.

-I'm yet to keep reading rosemary-frog's tangled au fic but the idea of Ballister being Lord Blackheart is really cool and then him probably admitting that his name is just Ballister pipipi when he and Ambrosius are about to drown in that lil cave.

>Maybe Nimona starts narrating the story with something like 'this is the story of how Lord Blackheart/my boss/the villain died' or something very dramatic.

>Maybe he's surname-less and the queen names or knights him Boldheart or something aaa

>Ambrosius starts calling him Ballister and then just Balli wiwiw

-The director sometimes losing her cool and blaming Ambrosius over it (in a, look what you made me do, kinda way) [LIKE THAT THING IN AMPHIBIA SJDKFSJF the king just kills Marcy and is like oh look what you made me do :( ]

>She definitely applies that when she stabs Ballister nearly to the end of the story sdfjs like, look what you caused, Ambrosius, if only you had listened to me.

-Her not naming herself his mother to keep some distance between herself and the queen's kid, so just going along with her director title, since she is still the director in the institute or something, and how is Ambrosius going to know what a director actually is, anyway.

>He tried to call him mom once and she was like (ew) no, it's director, I'm not your mother (maybe he's told his parents abandoned him or tried to use his magic for their own evil benefit, and that's why the director decided to save and protect him, taking him to the tower).

>Ambrosius hasn't known anyone beside her tho, so she allows the occasional hug or gentle treatment. He's very touch-starved.

>She feels nothing for him, he's just useful and at the second of him rebelling she tries to kill him or whatever happened in the tangled movie sjdfkds

>Actually I think Rapunzel's mom wanted to take her away for no one to find them? Maybe the director was just so desperate to not lose Ambrosius' magic that she'd leave everything behind just to get to keep it for herself idk.

>Also she definitely tells him out there are monsters and stuff bc why not, anything to keep Ambrosius fearful of the outside world and keep him in the tower.

-Nimona doesn't like Ambrosius for calling her a monster, then over finding out that he whacked her boss in the head with a frying pan several times, and then for gatekeeping the crown that they stole.

-Nimona starting the Goldie nickname, Ballister following along, and Ambrosius not finding it amusing. Maybe Ballister comments something about having a thing for blondes during the whole thing of him and Ambrosius clearly liking each other (and Ambrosius' like oh?? I am a blond! 😈).

>Later on, after the whole dying and reviving through Ambrosius' tears, Ballister says that he's crazy for brunettes actually and Ambrosius' like :D ??!! because Ballister is alive (and hey, he is a brunette! 😈)

>Btw they definitely flirt in-between their mission of going to see the lanterns, even if Ambrosius isn't all too sure about what he's doing bc he has never flirted with anyone before, he just knows that saying things to Ballister that make the man look almost coy makes his heart go faster, and also of course receiving the flirting from Ballister.

>What if he applies all the stuff he had read in his books or something sjdkfjs he had only ever flirted with the mirror and now he gets to apply it to the very attractive man that is leading him to watch the lanterns sjdfkjf

-Nimona breaks Ballister out of jail exactly like in the Nimona movie and hurts lots of guards and jumps out of the building as it explodes and stuff.

-Since Nimona is sort of using Maximus' place in the movie (and any animal, like Pascal and also that bunny that Rapunzel gets scared of), let's say that the overly competent guard/knight here will have to be Todd and his team sjdkf

>They're after Ballister and Nimona, but since Ambrosius' there too they also chase him (running away from the law as a family, amarite)

-When they're in the lil' cave about to drown, both Nimona and Ballister have to pull Ambrosius out of the water when he keeps trying to push the rocks away, in desperation because how is he going to die this way.

>Nimona's like, Goldie stop! It's useless. Because she tried pounding the rocks in the biggest forms she could use and had to resist turning into a much bigger form in fear of squashing both men. And her smallest forms did nothing because they were completely sealed in, yet she was aware that both men were about to die and she wouldn't. Then Ambrosius turns to Ballister who just gently shakes his head, because it is a lost cause.

>Both Nimona and Ballister see him crying in guilt and stuff and Ballister says his actual name when Ambrosius says, I'm sorry, Nimona, Lord Blackheart-. Ballister admits that he isn't a Lord nor Blackheart, and that he actually has no last name. He's just Ballister.

>I'm not sure what Nimona would admit, like the being lonely thing, the pushing people away, or something to do with their powers? (but I doubt that one), maybe she just watches the other two share their small moment of truths.

>Ambrosius reveals that his hair glows when he sings. And so he does when he realizes that they could use that, and once there's a very small crack revealed by the light where his hair is trying to get out, Nimona puts her whole into using that and she finally manages to push all the stuff away.

-Ballister is like, his hair glows?! and Nimona's like, yeah and I change forms, so what?! a bit offendedly and Ballister's like, oh right.

>(Nimona getting offended on Ambrosius' behalf over Ballister freaking out about his powers/magic, reminding her a bit of when they first met and Ballister freaked out too. But Ambrosius couldn't care less about the guy freaking out, he's way too happy about being alive)

>Then he heals his right hand where he had a cut and all that and the whole talk of stuff.

-Imagine that same night that they have to spend resting, that Nimona and Ballister easily fall into a sleeping position that works to brace them (especially Ballister) against the cold of the night, and Ambrosius just staring with like a smile because isn't it great that those two get to have each other and be so familiar between each other to just do that?

>Then he prepares to lay on his own side to sleep, but Nimona just rolls her eyes and roughly pulls him into their pile, leaving him wrapped on her arms too. And there's Ambrosius and Ballister back-to-back, and Ballister just says 'goodnight' to him and Ambrosius mutters the same back, feeling something like a lump in his throat as he accommodates his head on Nimona's arm like a pillow.

>And Ballister throws Nimona a knowing look, because despite her not liking the blond much, she still felt some clear sympathy for him, both over him admitting that he had never left the tower, and the fact that they were similar somewhat, both had pretty cool powers that confused people.

>And the fact that Ambrosius getting locked into a tower so no one could use his powers was a bit similar to Nimona's situation in a way (if we're going with the comic lore for her)

>(maybe it was Nimona who muttered the 'you've never left the tower' in realization after Ambrosius said almost shyly the 'that's why I've never been out and...' and then he sighed defeatedly and then said the next stuff all resigned, and all that)

-When the whole dancing bit happens in the Kingdom, Ambrosius tries to keep Ballister as close as he can but apparently the dance meant to change partner every once in a while. In the end he forgets about holding his hand and finds that holding anyone's hand while dancing and moving around to the music is just as thrilling.

>But then they end chest to chest anyways and smiling at eachother wiwiw (like the art in this post by unironicallyresurrected waaa)

-Maybe something and something and Ballister loses his arm when the director tried to kill him, some way. Ambrosius' tears only fixed the injury and blood lose but it was already almost completely detached from Ballister's body, so it just laid there jsdfk

>How did he manage to cut Ambrosius' hair I have no idea, don't ask me 😭 maybe Nimona made act of presence at some point, I have no idea where to put her here, I doubt she'd be down after a smack from the Director in the same way it happened to Pascal sdfkj

>(But anyways wouldn't it be cool if she jumped to defend Ambrosius? pipipi is like Eugene and Maximus teaming up but it's Ambrosius and Nimona sdjfks)

-When Ballister and Nimona take Ambrosius with the king and queen, they step back and watch the whole family reunion go by and they're like :) bc hey look at the guy, he's crying his eyes out and hugging like his life depends on it to the queen, but he's happy wouu 🗣️🗣️

>Anyways, the queen's hug is the warmest hug Ambrosius' had ever received (aside from Ballister's), and it's nothing like the Director's and he can't believe he has never been hugged like this in his life.

>Then Queen Valerin pulls Ballister into the hug and encourages Nimona to get in there too but she just shifts into a bigger animal and squeezes them all into a hug.

-Ambrosius gets a better haircut maybe, or maybe he keeps the bob cut I don't know 😭 dfjkj but his hair never grows longer bc the flower's power affected it or something like with Rapunzel.

-I think Ballister would be knighted or something, and then there's Nimona who's just doing her thing of being a little menace and being Ballister's sidekick, and Ambrosius is a good prince and is very happy of finally being outside and getting to know so many people yippiee

>And the director is dust in the air wouu

-Btw the last part in the movie is like this, because I think Ambrosius would say yes the second Ballister asked him to marry him unlike my pal Rapunzel, so- 🤨 also Nimona is the main narrator like in the Nimona movie sjdkf

Nimona (narrating): And so, after years and years of begging and begging and even going to his knees by his feet... Ambrosius: I finally said yes 😌 Ballister: Hey- Ambrosius: Fine, it was me who begged 🧍 Ballister (amused): And so they all lived... Nimona and Ambrosius: Happily ever after. [Happily ever after music and celebration]

>And then there's a drunk guy blowing a kiss to the audience or something 🧍

That's it, thanks if you read till here!