#i put this in the tags of my other post but i had to make its own post

[elspethdixon]

When I was six, there was a bulletin board on the wall of my first grade classroom that had fancy construction-paper name tags posted on it for every student who’d had perfect attendance the previous month.

I had pneumonia and scarlet fever (not regular strep throat, actual scarlet fever like a Victorian child) that year and missed over a month of school, plus continual sick days over the rest of the year. The whole school year I never got to have my name up on the perfect attendance board once.

Over thirty years later, I still remember how much I resented that. It’s not like I wanted to spend hours sitting in the doctor’s office instead of going to school. They literally wouldn’t let me go during the scarlet fever week-long absence because they (correctly) didn’t want me spreading strep to the other children. The school officials ordered my parents to keep me at home, and then I was shamed for it via exclusion from the “official good student who’s here every day” board.

Later, in high school, I took exactly one sick day over the entire four years, when I broke a bone in my foot. This isn’t because I didn’t get sick, it’s because I was taking almost all AP classes and the amount of make-up work you had if you missed even a single day was prohibitive. I was already doing at least two hours of homework every night. In tenth grade in particular I went to school while hacking and coughing all day with asthmatic bronchitis all winter long. (I also needed abdominal surgery to repair a hernia caused by the weight of my school books/bookbag during my freshman year and waited four months to get it performed over the summer in order to not miss school - this sounds like I’m making it up or exaggerating but the surgeon actually said both that 1. it was most likely caused by the weight of my 25 lb. backpack and 2. that in retrospect telling my parents to wait until summer break for the surgery had been a mistake because the delay had made the hernia worse).

And I wasn’t even disabled or actually suffering from a chronic illness. I was a completely able-bodied kid who just had shitty lungs (that was actually the root cause of the hernia - I had already had a previous hernia surgery in the same spot during that infamous no-perfect-attendance-badge-for-you first grade year, after my pneumonia experience gave me a hernia from coughing so much). If anything, the actually disabled kids in my high school were being put in danger by me and my two zillion different chest colds I brought to school to give to everyone around me. Who knows how many classmates I probably infected with rhinoviruses in order to keep my straight A grades.

When I say “school should be disability accessible”, I don’t just mean we need handicap rails and EAs. Kids should be able to miss a day without failing out of school. You shouldn’t be dismissed from clubs because your attendance record is “spotty” (true story). I once missed an entire week of school because of a terrible, unending migraine. I was expected to keep up with my studies despite the blinding pain that came with working on my computer. When I heard my teachers say that you couldn’t miss exams, I asked what I would have to do to be excused from them. Their response? “Either get a doctor’s note an hour before the exam or death of an immediate family member.”

I cannot express how rigid this expectation was. First of all, with my condition, I wouldn’t have enough warning about my sickness to go to the doctor and request a note. For many people, this is exceptionally difficult, especially with the current shortage of medical professionals. Next, it ignores the fact that my schedule may not line with theirs because of my medical needs. Once, I had to visit a hospital a province away (which I was on the waiting list of for over a year) on the same day as an exam. I begged my mother not to take me because I was so nervous that I would be marked as an automatic fail. I was lucky enough to make it work, but that’s only because of my spectacular support system consisting of family members and wonderful doctors.

Disabilities aren’t always about needing a bus that can accommodate wheelchairs. It’s already difficult enough for many of us to maintain school attendance without the harsh punishments involved for skipping a day. We need to be able to miss school without being punished. Only than can you claim that the school is “accessible”

[mhahaikyuus]

I have my reasons

tags:; : royal au, gojo x f!reader, fluff, childhood best friend gojo, gojo is deeply in love

wc:; 1k

a/n: I just wanted to post it's been a while bc school is whooping me DOWN. let me know if you like it and I can make it a series, hope you enjoy :)

Your corset was digging into your side as you shifted in your seat trying to subtly fix your dress. It was no use. Your maids painstakingly putting you in this elaborate outfit for today like a ornate China doll.

You sighed in acceptance at your view. The hot sun beating down on the crowds of the most elite in the country as they mingled on grassy fields. You fanned yourself with ornate flimsy fabric from the heat to no avail.

The emperor had announced a lively tournament to last as long as he saw fit since success from the war. 10 long years of conquering had finally come to an end. The clans all requested to join together to celebrate.

All the women in their best, made polite conversation an walked around the estate. The group of loud men cheering and belching their stories through tart wine and sudsy beer. The emperor boasting of his exploits and battle wounds surrounded by yes men, your own father included.

You were the daughter to the closest advisor and political genius of the emperor. Your father and the Emperor had been a pair since they were young themselves.

Now you were forced into a tight corset, flowy dress, pins sticking into your scalp the result of a elegant updo your maid, Helena had fixed.

You sat at the table of the emperor wishing to be anywhere else at the moment. You never enjoyed royal events since you were a child. You could think of 40 different better ways to spend your time than socializing with your so called peers. They were draining to deal with and you had to maintain polite composure.

"Hey...pstt."

You side eyed your best friend who was failing to be discrete in getting your attention, leaning towards you.

"What Toru?" You said to his wide blue eyes. His usually wild white hair combed down and he was wearing his colored glasses with traditional robes.

He smiled at finally getting your attention and your nickname for him, "How much longer?"

You let out a small laugh at his words leaning a bit to talk, "We're only on the third course." He was always impatient at these events.

He let out a small whine, dropping his head on the tablecloth. You nudged him with your leg to get him to stop. He huffed drawing himself up into sitting up.

"You know how Emperor Gojo is."

He rolled his eyes and almost slouched like a child, "My dad is so attention seeking, we get it."

You almost choked your drink at your best friend's words. He couldn't be serious.

"Yeah, it's a bad trait to have." You said to yourself with a laugh before taking a sip of wine.

Satoru and his father didn't get along great but there was no denying that he was the rightful heir. He was the chosen one, and a mirror image of the old emperor.

The party was getting rowdier as time went on. The royals taking advantage of the endless wine and beer. Singing and loud cheering as people socialized was getting to you. The loud noises hurting your ears slowly starting an ache in your temples. Your social battery was depleted.

"I'm about to leave." Gojo said suddenly turning to you in his seat. His leg jumping under the table. He was ready to make his exit.

You raised your eyebrows at his words, "Where?"

He shrugged and a loud cheer erupted on the other end of the table.

Gojo turned to the distracted crowd then back to you. His large hand slipping out the sleeve of his robe to hold your own. He grabbed your hand and began to pull you through the crowd. You stumbled getting up from the table.

"Toru, we can't just-" You protested but followed him his hand firmly gripping your own. He continued through the crowd as you gripped his hand firmly to keep from tripping over your dress.

"We just did." He said pulling you into a dark archway from the crowd.

This was a familiar area of the castle, since you two were children exploring different areas of the Gojo Estate. The area he pulled you into was not a well visited. Maids would use it occasionally if a room was blocked off as an alternative route.

Gojo's hand slipped from your own as you walked down the empty hallway. You let out a sigh of relief at the silence feeling your own head not beat in irritation. The only noise in the otherwise silent corridor were your heels clicking on the stone floor. You bunched up your layered dress and sat on the window's ledge.

Satoru watched you as you settled in, his hands in his robes as he leaned against the wall. He would rather spend time with you than anyone else.

"Thanks for getting me out of there." You said with a smile watching your feet dangle as they swung under you.

He returned a cute smile, "You were fading."

You shrugged, "Parties aren't my thing, Mr. Social." You teased wiggling your eyebrows at him.

Satoru could feel his face heat up at your words letting out a cough avoiding your eyes. You smiled at his red tinted cheeks.

Your best friend was the first born son of the biggest clan in your country. He was charming and wasn't bad looking. Of course he had his fun with women, taverns and brothels. You were more of the introverted side. Enjoying your time at the estate with books and music.

He rolled his eyes at your words, kicking the dirt under his feet before meeting your eyes. "Wasn't just for you ya know. I had my own reasons." Satoru replied simply.

You. He thought.

"What?" you asked, Satoru looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back.

"Nothing." He shrugged hopping up on the ledge next to you. His much longer legs crossing in front of him. Gojo's breath hitching every time he was able to smell your sweet perfume but you never noticed. You two enjoyed the silence sitting with each other.

"Lady Wu was-

"so drunk!" You finished for him and you two laughed gossiping about everyone in your own little world for the rest of the party.

[dsireland86]

Anonymous asked:

Can you do a little something about Bad omens, they are playing truth or dare and maybe Noah has to take a body shot off reader that leads to more? If you feel comfortable writing about it ofc! 🤍

So, stupid tumblr app decided to be dumb again and posted this story before it was finished, so I had to pull it and redo it. Also, it strayed from the original concept and plot, because this is what came to mind when I started writing. I'm sorry!!!!! Hope yall like the fixed version. It's a lot better and a little dirty. Sorry... my mind went too far with Noah body shots 🤯

Truth or Dare

Tag list:

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @an0mallly @potterheadquinn @flowery-mess   @bloody-spades

The music was too loud for Noah. He had a pounding headache and was exhausted from the six week run in the U.K they’d just got back from. Day's after returning home, the band's management team insisted on throwing a welcome home party to celebrate the biggest headliner the band had done to date and a number one single. So, he was playing nice and pretending he was enjoying the party. Noah hated it and he was miserable.

"Can you at least look like you're having a good time," Matt complained walking over to meet him. "He can't help it that he has a resting bitch face, Matt. Go easy on him." Noah scowled at Jolly, who just simply smiled. "I want to go home," Noah whined, falling down onto a nearby couch. "I feel you," Folio agreed, sitting down next to him. "Why did you agree to this, shit, Matt?" Noah pouted. "Hey my hands were tied, dude. I wasn't really given an option here. Believe me, I'd rather be somewhere else," "Yeah, like held up in his house watching Grey's Anatomy," Jolly chuckled, pulling his long hair back into a bun. "Don't be hating on my show," Matt muttered, checking his phone. "Great. I've got to go meet upper management. Fuck this shit," turning around and walking away as the others just stayed back, laughing.

Folio sat his beer down on the table and removed his hat to scratch his head. "Poor Matt. He suffers so much for us." "Yeah! He'd better. We make him a lot of money," Noah stated, crossing his arms.

Nicholas came walking over the couches, munching on a banana. The other three just stared at him.

"What the hell, Ruffilo?"

Nick looked over at Jolly. "What?" he shrugged.

"Where at a high class party with caviar and shit and all you can find to put in your mouth is a banana?" Jolly criticized.

"Yeah.Caviar is gross and nothing else looks good," staring at a group of giggling girls that walked by him. Nick just shook his head.

Noah laid his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose, when another group of girls came over to them, dressed as if they were looking to get some. Jolly's eyes widened and Folio just pulled his hat down a little lower.

"Excuse me, we need some help," one of the girls asked, her words partially slurring.

Noah raised his head, slowly, instantly regretting he did.

"Sure. What do you need," he replied, reluctantly.

The girls looked at one another, whispering in the other's ear and giggling.

"It's our friend's birthday, and we're trying to get her to do body shots by playing Truth or Dare, but she's refusing. So, we thought that if we could find some really hot guys, she'd change her mind."

Noah looked over at Jolly, begging him with his eyes to come help. Jolly just hid his grin and shook his head, no.

"I, uh, I don't think I'm qualified," "Do you have chest hair or anything around your belly button area?" one of the girls asked. "What! That’s random." "Lift your shirt up. Let me see," one of the girls ordered.

"No!" "Noah, stop being a pansy and just show the girl your chest. It won't kill you," Jolly blurted out, earning him a heated scowl from Noah. "Will you leave me alone if I do?" Noah fumed at the girl who was about to cause him to snap. "I don't know yet. Show me and I'll tell you."

Noah sighed heavily, lifting his shirt.

"I can't see. You have to lift it higher."

Noah growled, glaring over at Jolly who was fighting his laughter. 

"You're dead, Karlsson," Noah threatened.

Noah lifted a little higher, hating that he was degrading himself this way.

"You're perfect! Come with me," she ordered, grabbing Noah's hand and yanking him off the couch. She and her friend drug Noah behind them as he tried to fight the grip they had on him.

"Hey you two have let me go, like right now!" Noah demanded.

They led him to another part of the venue and into a room filled with more people and louder music that was about half the size as the one they'd just come from

When his eyes landed on her, Noah almost couldn't breathe. She was so damn pretty and had a smile that could soften even the hardest heart. She was wearing a cowboy hat and a sash that read "Birthday Girl," and the moment she turned and looked at him was the moment his life changed forever.

"We found one," the two girls that drug him over told her.

The girl looked from her friends around the table to Noah, obviously very confused.

"What are you talking about? Found one what?"

She shyly looked over at Noah and smiled.

"A fucking hot guy with tattoos that you can take your first body shot off of the next time you spin a dare."

The girl groaned and threw her hands over her face.

"No! Oh god, please tell me you didn't just go out there and hunt down some random guy to bring over here to play a stupid high school game!"

The two girls were about to protest, but Noah beat them to it.

"No! Actually, I wanted to come. They said it was your birthday, so I thought I'd come over and hang for a little bit."

The girls grew quiet, laughing amongst themselves.

"I'm Noah," he introduced himself, leaning in a lot closer than he meant to. He could smell her skin, the scent of rainwater bamboo engulfing his senses.

"Y/N," she replied. Noah smiled, and all Y/N could think was, "Oh shit."

Noah was hot. His lean frame, covered by a white hoodie, towered over her. She would’ve given anything to touch his body, to dig her nails into his flesh and grip the arms that would hold her down, and run her fingers through his short, anime style haircut. Looking down at his hands, Y/N noticed how big they were and the tattoos that were drawn over his skin. Telling from the ones on his neck, she assumed he had them in many other places too.

"Are you okay?"

Noah's deep voice pulled Y/N from her thoughts. She smiled, nodding her head.

"I'm fine, sorry."

Noah gave a gentle laugh.

"So, Truth or Dare and body shots, huh?"

Y/N groaned. "Shit. Please ignore my stupid friends, okay. I don't know what possessed them,"

"I think your friends are just trying to help you have a good birthday," Noah interrupted, trying to sound positive in hopes of getting what he was secretly yearning for.

Y/N raised an eyebrow

"Someone's being optimistic." "You don't think so?" "No," Y/N shook her head, looking over at the girls who had just taken shots of something. "They always have hidden motives."

Noah reached over and brushed her fingers with the tips of his, hoping to pull that beautiful smile out of her again. This behavior was totally out of character for him. Noah never allowed his feelings for someone he'd just met to affect him the way he was allowing them to right now, and it was only a matter of time before the girl in front of him said or did the wrong or right thing that would make him snap.

Y/N shivered the moment she turned and faced Noah. The heat that spilled from his gaze was enough for her to feel internally, forcing her to clench the muscles of her sex as her arousal soaked her panties.

"Hidden motives are a dangerous game to play," Noah pointed out, unable to look away from the heated look in Y/N's eyes that was causing his dick to harden the longer he continued staring. "It's better to just be truthfully honest and up front, if you don’t, don't you think?"

Y/N swallowed hard, a small smile twitching her lips.

"I do."

The tension between them was thick and sweet, like honey. They way she peered up at Noah through her lashes shot through him like a bullet headed straight for his semi-hard length.

"Hey! Are you playing?"

Noah and Y/N looked over at the table where a group of her friends were crowded, the one yelling at them holding an empty beer bottle. Y/N hesitated before looking at Noah.

"You really don't have to do this. I know this isn't the ideal situation for you, and you have no idea who any of these people are."

"I'll do it." "Really?" Y/N asked, surprised.

"Yeah. It's your birthday, and anything here has to be better than what I was having to suffer through over there,” flicking his head in the direction where he came from. 

Y/N gave Noah a small smile. "Okay, well, if you're sure." "I'm sure," Noah replied, giving Y/N a tight-lipped smile.

This group of friends was nothing like Noah's group of friends. He gave up drinking and the party life years ago, trading it in for video games, movies and anime nights with his friends. This wasn't his scene, and he was starting to believe it wasn't hers either. They watched the bottle spin over and over, going through four people before it was finally Y/N's turn. Praying hard for a miracle that it wouldn't land on a dare, she was severely disappointed when it did. But with only one look at Noah, her perspective changed quickly. Noah wasn't surprised when her friends dared her to take body shots off of him. It was the reason for the grin on his face. The first one that happened was awkward for him to do with everyone watching, but he kept his eyes on Y/N, doing his best to block everyone else out. Standing in front of her, wondering if their night together was really over that quickly, Noah acted on impulse and closed the slight gap between the two of them. Lifting Y/N's chin, his eyes darted between hers and he saw the very thing he was looking for flash across them.

"I can't believe you're letting me do this again," Y/N grinned, watching Noah remove his hoodie this time. "It's your birthday, Pretty Girl. Birthday girls always get what they want,” Noah stated, lying back on the two tables that had been pulled together.

With a bottle of tequila in one hand and a dish of limes in the other, Y/N sat them down on the table next to the salt. Noah kept his eyes locked on her, watching every expression her face made. Taking a risk, he reached over, underneath her mini skirt, and slid his hand between her things hearing the small, slight gasp that quickly turned into a whimper. Noah raised an eyebrow, clenching his jaw as his huge hand grasped the inside of her thigh tighter before moving a little further up. Y/N didn't stop him, but instead, moved closer to keep their moment more discreet.

"Your thighs are so fucking soft and warm," Noah praised. His big soft hand with their long fingers slowly ran up and down her skin, making her shiver. “I wonder what would happen if I did this,” brushing fingertips over her throbbing hearted sex.

The slight buck of her hips gave Noah the response he wanted. His infectious smile returned to his lips, making Y/N hungry to taste them.

"You're playing dangerously, Noah," Y/N warned.

"I asked you if you wanted to," he replied, lifting his shirt high enough for her to take her first shot. “So, are you?”

Y/N opened the tequila and slowly poured it into Noah's belly button, being as careful as she could be. Noah's stomach muscles flinched causing his skin to prickle and she wondered if it would have the same response if she were to go down on him right then. She wanted to find out, especially when she noticed how hard he was. It took a lot of restraint to not touch him

"See something you like?"

"I see a lot that I like," she grinned, taking a lime slice from the bowl and bringing it to Noah's lips.

His hand remained between her thighs, as he continued caressing her skin, slowly, giving Y/N a pleasured feeling that set her nerves on fire. She parted her legs a little more, giving Noah more access to her sweet spot.

"Open," she ordered and Noah obeyed, biting down gently on the green rind. Pushing his head to the side, Y/N poured the salt onto his painted skin and ran her tongue over it, over the faded green leaves that rested just below his jaw. It pulled a deep throated growl from Noah and clenched the inside of her thigh. Y/N moaned from the feeling, knowing fully well there would be a bruise there by morning. Quickly, with the salt still on her tongue, she moved to Noah's lower half, sucking the liquor straight from his navel until every bit of it was gone before moving to his mouth and taking the lime. Noah watched with lust filled eyes as she sucked the juice from the rind, tossing the table when she was finished.

"What?" Y/N asked, noticing the look on his face as she returned to her normal height. "Shit," Noah breathed, half-smiling. "I think that had to be one of the hottest things I've ever seen."

Y/N giggled.

"Well, it sounds like you haven't seen a lot." "Oh, I've seen plenty."

Noah moved his hand higher up her thigh, waiting for her to stop him, and when she didn't, he ran his fingers over her pussy.

"Your panties are moist, pretty girl. Do I make you wet?"

Y/N whimpered, biting her lower lip.

"What if I did this?" swiping over her clit. "Noah," she gasped, gripping the table.

Noah laughed, soft and low.

He sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the table, and pushed her panties to the side, pressing the pad of his finger lightly between her folds. He made a sound that was almost inhuman, swallowed up by the newfound warmth he'd discovered. His fingers rubbed gently at first, pulling tiny gasps from her lips as his tongue and teeth marked faint lines across her skin as he made his way towards the bottom of her throat.

"Damn, you're so fucking wet; so tight. God, baby. You're sweet little pussy feels so good," Noah muttered.

Y/N could hear the excitement and the tiny crack that followed in his voice. She sighed, closing her eyes and absorbing the feeling of Noah's sensual assaults inside her. She didn't care if this was wrong. She didn't care if people could see. All she cared about was if Noah was capable of making her cum.

Moaning the moment Noah slid two fingers up inside her, Y/N raised her head, looking up at him. Noah was gone, lost in the moment just as much as she was. He hummed, satisfied with the feeling of her tight pussy already clenching around his fingers that thrusted deeper and deeper each time feeding the array of quiet moans that escaped her lips the harder she worked herself against his hand.

"I want you to take another shot off me," Noah ordered.

"Mmm, I can't, not while your fucking me like this," Y/N protested, keeping her eyes locked on him.

"Yes you can. Just try it. You'll like it, I promise," Noah grinned.

Y/N's stomach fluttered as her heart beat faster. Doing what she was told, she salted his neck and instead of putting the tequila in his navel, she poured it into the small spot between the two bones at the bottom of his throat, right below his adam's apple. Noah slowed his movements as Y/N rose to the tips of her toes, licked the salt and lapped up the liquor, grabbing the lime from Noah's teeth.

"Fuck that's hot," he confessed, kissing her forehead. He could feel her legs trembling, her body starting to shake and even though she was making being a gentleman about the whole thing difficult, he refused to be apathetic.

"Come here," he whispered gently, returning to the soft thrusting of his fingers against her inner walls, taking his time to completely undo every tensed muscle in her body.

Y/N scooted closer, lifting on her toes to give more access and placing her hands on Noah's thighs for balance.He pulled her in and pushed her head down, allowing her to rest her forehead against his shoulder.

"Stay with me, baby. Keep your hands on me. I've got you," Noah encouraged her, wrapping his free arm around her and holding her as close as he could. Y/N gasped and moaned, clawing at the fabric beneath her hands as Noah took them to another dimension. They were no longer where they had been. They were somewhere else; just the two of them.

"Oh, god!" "God isn't here, pretty girl, I am. And it damn well better my name on those lips when you cum," Noah growled

He held Y/N to him with one arm while using his free hand to thrust up into her. Her back arched, and she allowed her head to fall back as Noah latched on to her throat. He bit down, sucking the saltiness of her skin off .

"Noah, this is dangerous. What if someone sees," Y/N panicked, making a poor attempt at getting out of Noah's grasps. "I don't fucking care if they do. I just want you, I need you to cum for me, baby. Give me the satisfaction of pushing you over the edge."

Y/N couldn't deny the hungry desire for her she saw in Noah's eyes. It was feral, and all she wanted to do was feed it. Pushing her hips forward, she gripped Noah's shoulders and worked her pussy against his hand, right before he slipped in a third finger. A low curse left her lips as she bit the lower one to cover a moan.

"You're going to cum for me, aren't you, pretty girl?"

Her pussy clenched around his fingers and soft whimpers replaced any words she wanted to say.

"God damn, yeah, that's, baby, ride my hand," Noah coaxed her, paying close attention to Y/N's body and the signs it was giving him. "You like that, don't you? You like me fucking your wet, needy cunt with my fingers like this, twisting them inside you. Tell me you do," he breathed, trying to ease the urgent need to cum himself "I do! Fuck, Noah, I shouldn't, but I do really like it."

Her abdomen was on fire, her head spinning from the overwhelming coiled tension building in her lower back. Her breathing was shallow as her quiet moans started to draw closer together, and her head fell back, closing her eyes. Noah wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, lifting her head.

"Eyes on my pretty girl. Watch me when you cum. I need to see the look in your eyes when you cum all over my hand," he ordered, breathing heavily.Y/N nodded "I can feel you squeezing my fingers," he whispered, ghosting his lips over hers. Y/N tilted her head in hopes of capturing them, but failed. "Noah, I'm about to cum!" she gasped once Noah found that spot."Right there?" "Mmm-hmm, don't stop, please don't stop!" "I won't as long as you keep your eyes on me," he promised. And she did.

Pressure built in Y/N's lower half, the ache strengthening with every thrust of Noah's fingers or the swipe of his thumb over her clit and in a matter of seconds her walls fluttered around his fingers, her climax reached its peak, and her orgasm crescendo throughout her entire body.

"Oh god, Noah," she cried into her hand before she collapsed onto his chest.

"There it is, that's a good girl. I can feel your cum dripping down my wrist, baby. Fuck!"

"What's wrong?"

Noah took a deep breath through his nose, trying to keep it together.

"I'm about to fucking cum!" he growled through gritted teeth.

Y/N wasted no time. Grabbing the front of Noah's pants and briefs, she pulled as Noah lifted his bottom and released enough of his thick, swollen cock right as the milky white liquid shot all down the front of her skirt. Noah groaned, resting his forehead against hers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N," he swore over and over, chest rising and falling rapidly as he covered himself up, but Y/N was only laughing quietly.

"Don't be,' she replied breathlessly, looking into Noah's eyes. She pulled back and brushed the hair out of his eyes before kissing his forehead."We both got what we wanted."

Noah grinned. Reaching over, he grabbed the tequila, salt, and limes.

"What are you doing?" "It's my turn. Lay your head back," he commanded, and Y/N obeyed, feeling as if her heart was about to beat out of her chest.

Noah repeated the same steps as she did when taking the shot off of his neck and swallowed quickly, trailing his lips with a little bit of tongue up her neck, kissing as he went over her jawline and took the lime from her mouth. Y/N could only give small exasperated moans as her eyes met Noah's. They were dark, full of an eagerness for more.

"Yum," he smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Happy Birthday, pretty girl." Y/N just shook her head, smiling.

They found a bathroom where Noah was able to clean his happy accident off the front of Y/N's mini skirt. Neither one spoke, both of them either too embarrassed, ashamed, or sad from everything that had happened or was about to. Maybe it was all three. Walking around the corner of the bathrooms, Noah's phone vibrated. It was a text in the band's group chat asking where he was. He texted back that he was coming, then pocketed his phone.

"So, uh, thanks for the really awesome birthday gifts," Y/N teased.

Noah felt his ears and cheeks instantly heat up, forcing him to rub the back of his neck like he normally did when he got embarrassed.

"Yeah," he laughed, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"Seriously," reaching out and touching Noah’s arm, assuring him she was.

Noah locked eyes with Y/N, desperately aching to kiss her. She was so pretty, with a sweet smile and the kind of laugh he could get used to hearing a lot of. But deep down, he knew that wasn't going to happen

"I gotta go. Gotta get back to my friends..."

"Yeah," Y/N laughed nervously, "of course."

"Do, uh, is there any chance I could have your number?"

There was an awkward silence.

"Um, Noah, I,”

"Oh god, I'm sorry, you're don't, er, you're not, shit, never mind," Noah stuttered, apologizing quickly.

"No, no, it's not like that, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that, well, I just shouldn't," Y/N stated, peering up at him.

That's Noah realized, that was Y/N's way of letting him down gently. His pocket vibrated, saving his heart from realizing what his head had just figured out. Matt was freaking out. He really had to go, now.

"Right," he slowly nodded, suddenly feeling like the biggest fool around. "I'm gonna go. My band's about to receive some kind of an award, so I've got to hurry."

"Your band? Wait… what?"

"Yeah, anyway, it was really nice to meet you and I hope the rest of your birthday is great," he yelled, turning around and running in the opposite direction as Y/N called his name from behind him.

"Dude, where the fuck have you been?" Matt scolded.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you later."

"Hey," Jolly called, tapping Noah on the shoulder. "How did it go? Was the friend nice?"

Noah remained silent for a moment, wondering how to put into words all that had happened. There weren't enough and there never would be.

"Yeah," was all he could say with a smile. "She was pretty nice. It was fun, for the moment," shrugging his shoulders.

Jolly chuckled, patting his friend on the back as they followed Nick and Folio out to where their managers were standing. The guests cheered and whistled, cameras flashed, and hands were shaken as the guys were awarded and congratulated with a number one single award from one of the biggest music companies in the country. Noah looked out into the faces of all those cheering for him and his best friends, eyes stopping when they came in contact with a pair he recognized instantly.

Y/N's mouth was wide open as she stood in the crowd looking at the man whom she had just shared a very intimate moment with and nobody but the two of them knew. She was with somebody, making Noah's heart instantly fall into the pit of his stomach. He'd just fingerfucked some other guy's girl, making him feel low and dirty. The guy turned around, and Noah recognized him instantly. He was a friend in the business who worked for the record label. The guy looked from him to Y/N, and Noah watched as he gently shook her to get her attention. Reluctantly, Y/N tore her eyes away from Noah and exchanged a few words with the guy glancing at him one more time, before walking off with her face in her hands. His friend shrugged, waving to Noah, before turning to follow after Y/N. Noah smiled softly to himself, knowing it wasn't going to be the last he’d ever see her again. 

[twig-tea]

Taiwanese Talk Show The BL Era

Thank you @thisonelikesaliens for shouting out the Taiwanese talk show miniseries The BL Era: Taiwan's Spotlight, it was really well put together and gave me some good insights into the Taiwanese BL market. And thanks @my-rose-tinted-glasses for pointing out Aliens' posts to me when I've been mostly off tumblr.

Aliens has posted about all of the episodes on their tag, which I recommend going through (all of the episodes are linked there).

Here are my main takeaways from all 6 episodes, in case it helps anyone decide if they want to watch/which eps may be of most interest:

Ep1 on Unknown and The On1y One: The discussion about the adaptation choices in both of these shows (as both of these were adapted from danmei) was really interesting, though the lack of discussion about where to end the first season of On1y One was glaring to me. I did like that this episode talked about what made both of these stand out (the build of the feelings between the characters) and how much emphasis this episode put on good writing. There was an offhand comment that Director Liu Kuang Hi made about not needing a shower scene that made me wonder if he regretted that scene in Your Name Engraved Herein (I for one am very glad it was in the film as a critical character moment). That last bit is just me speculating BTW, I don't mean to put words in his mouth.

Ep2 on HIStory 3: Make Our Days Count: It was new information for me that this aired in a time where Taiwanese culture more broadly was interested in tragic stories, I liked having that additional context. Also I was interested to hear confirmed by writers and creators that there was a lot of pressure post-MODC to write only happy endings, though some of the fans interviewed talked about how a sad ending can be acceptable if it's earned. This was such a tumultuous experience for BL fandom, if you didn't experience it in real time I recommend watching this episode to get a sense of the impact.

Ep3 on VBL: This was my favourite episode of the series; it was the most interesting to me because it got into a side of the business I really don't pay a lot of attention to: Fandom management outside of the series itself. I learned a lot about the VBL series including that it was produced in partnership with a Japanese company and that it was the first BL since 2018 to air on TV in Taiwan. I also hadn't realized that this company had worked hard to build fandom around the pairs outside of the show itself, and that was a part of why it was so successful. I had no idea that this set of shows did such a good job managing fan engagement. It was really interesting hearing the network person talk about how they think about the show as just one part of a whole that they are selling, and how managing how it lands and what impact it has and what trends is another part. All of that was fascinating. I also liked hearing the actors talk about what it's like being in a CP. This episode did not hold back that the writing in the VBL series felt shallow and that the actors were green, which I was impressed by--I appreciate creators who acknowledge their own gaps especially when they then talk about wanting to see those improve.

Ep4 on Kiseki: Dear to Me: Placing this right after the VBL episode was smart because they talked about the effect of the fanmeet flop and its subsequent handling failure and the impact on the show, which is given more context from the previous ep. I knew almost nothing about this other than that the pressure on the secondary CP in this show was high, so getting this BTS insight into what happened from fan and industry perspective was fascinating. I did not realize that Taiwanese BL producers experienced expectations formed by Thai fanmeets (which differ from Taiwanese fanmeet styles) from both international fans and from Taiwanese BL fans. The framing of expectation and the question of whether Taiwan should follow the Thai model or just do its own thing but better set expectations in advance is an interesting one.

Ep5 on HIStory 2: I'm so glad HIStory 2 got some attention because it's my favourite season that I rewatch regularly. The news that they had a plan to have an check-in on the family from Right or Wrong hurts my heart; how dare they pain me with this info. That being said, the actor Steven Chiang writing what is essentially fanfic for his own character made me very happy. The idea of the Thai market being a one-stop shop and Taiwan still experimenting with small producers that don't have a production line or 360 business model was very interesting. I also loved the Taiwanese pride in this episode, and the frustration that came through when they were talking about how Taiwan has great IP to adapt too, it's just hard to get it off the ground. It was smart to end on this episode, as a speculation on how Taiwanese BL should move forward in the context of everything above: Its legacy, it's fumbles, the international pressures and the realities of the Taiwanese industry. Also, LIN PEI YU PRODUCING A TAIWANESE GL IN 2025?! GIVE IT TO ME!!!

[wheelie-sick]

Frustrations about "transabled" wheelchair use

sparing people the long post and putting this under a cut

saw a post that frustrated me in the wheelchair tag that I'm not going to directly respond to because the person who created it seems young

it was a post encouraging people who are "transabled" to use wheelchairs under the reasoning of

it hurts no one

wheelchairs are not in limited supply

and then encourages people to get them from thrift stores for cheaper

I don't... really care about the whole "transabled" thing and I think a lot of it comes from people with BIID (<- real thing) using an inappropriate label for their experiences. while I pretty flat out think that people without BIID who don't need a wheelchair should not be using a wheelchair I can acknowledge that the situation gets much more complex when it comes to BIID.

many people with BIID will physically injure themselves in the name of alleviating their dysphoria. I would much, much rather someone use a wheelchair without physically needing it than injure themself. if a wheelchair helps someone with BIID I am, generally speaking, not opposed to it. there's more nuance to this but that's not the point of this post so I'm not entirely going to derail it.

the point of this post is that this person is wrong about this kind of frivolous wheelchair use being harmless towards people who need wheelchairs.

contrary to the point most people make of "this will make people fake claim wheelchair users even more!" I actually don't think that will happen- yet. transabled people exist in a very small, dark corner of the internet that hasn't really had any spotlight cast on it? at least not yet. someone considering themself transabled is also exceptionally rare. I doubt that this will, as it exists currently, encourage a significant increase in fake claiming. could this happen? sure. I just don't see it as a current problem.

the main fake claiming I see fueled by the existence of transabled people comes from places like r/fakedisordercringe. they once posted my Twitter (? I've been posted 5 times, I lose track) where I had "adult" in my bio, edited out the "adult" line, and posted it with the claim I was 14 and self diagnosed all my disorders. when my tiktok was posted someone claimed I was currently a student at their highschool, I was... in university. my point is that they're liars and don't care about what you say or the reality of a situation. they want content, not truth.

places like r/fakedisordercringe will come up with any excuse to accuse someone they dislike of lying. accusing someone of being "transabled" is just one of their latest fads. to me, their fake claims mean nothing. I acknowledge they can dish out some serious harassment, believe me, they have gone after me plenty. what I mean by that is that their claims are meaningless in the real world. I have brought up being posted there, what, 5 times? to offline friends many times who are aware of the subreddit and they laugh then say "yeah that's absurd." they're just not taken seriously.

the caveat to this is if this were to get a spotlight shined on it. I truly hope this does not happen because it would be a nightmare to deal with for anyone affected by the radqueer community. I could see a world where doctors treat patients who don't present with quantifiable symptoms with suspicion because they could, possibly, be transabled.

this is pretty verifiable because physically disabled patients with a BIID diagnosis are treated truly just awfully.

once the label of "faker" gets applied to you by a doctor it follows you around until you can find a doctor who is willing to look past it. especially with hospitals having greater communication with each other through online connections between hospitals it's becoming increasingly difficult to escape faker accusations and bullshit diagnoses like fibromyalgia and functional neurological disorder**.

**these are real conditions. they are just so often misdiagnosed by doctors who think you are lying/hysterical/exaggerating/making it all up/all of the above. once you have them, it's hard to escape them. every symptom will be blamed on them and no further testing will be done.

I think the big current hurt this is doing to wheelchair users is suggesting that there is no hurt. in theory wheelchairs are not a limited resource, standard wheelchairs are mass produced and widely available. it's just less true in practice.

anyone who uses a wheelchair can attest to the fact that it is difficult to obtain one- especially on a budget. when someone is encouraging people who don't need wheelchairs to do things like buy thrift store wheelchairs they tangibly take away resources from wheelchair users. standard wheelchairs are widely produced enough that buying one from the source is not going to make a dent, and even if all transabled people did it there would be little impact.

thrift store wheelchairs are hard to come by.

I know so many disabled people who spend months scouring thrift stores for wheelchairs and who still turn up nothing. buying a thrift store wheelchair is not something with no impact, it does take away resources from wheelchair users.

beyond this, I have seen people encourage transabled people to lie in order to get custom wheelchairs. anyone who has used a standard wheelchair knows they are uncomfortable, hard to push, etc. we've all heard the spiel- they're awful to use. for many people they're better than nothing but anyone able to will aim for a custom wheelchair.

a lot of transabled people are really in it for a glorified aesthetic. generally speaking, standard wheelchairs are not their "aesthetic." I could write a whole post on this, I'm not going to dive into it.

unlike standard wheelchairs there is not an unlimited supply of custom wheelchairs. as their name implies, they are custom made to every individual person. this means there are wait times! people die waiting for custom wheelchairs. on average the process in the US seems to be around 6 months from evaluation to receiving the final wheelchair. that's a long fucking time to have little to no mobility. having little to no mobility comes with its own health problems, like pressure sores (sometimes referred to as "bed sores")

"but my custom wheelchair will only delay someone else's wheelchair by a day!"

have you ever been sick and stuck in bed? how anxious were you to regain the ability to move? did every day fucking suck? I bet it did. because it sucks to be stuck in bed. that's the position many people are in while waiting for custom wheelchairs.

one day can be the difference between no pressure sore and yes pressure sore. one day can be the difference between one stage of pressure sore and another stage of pressure sore

pressure sores kill. pressure sores can go to bone. pressure sores can become infected. people die from pressure sores all the time. once you have them they are incredibly difficult to treat. one day is a difference.

overall it's just so frustrating to see people treat getting a wheelchair like it's meaningless and has no impact on people, especially when people are getting wheelchairs in ways that take resources away from the people who need them. then when actual wheelchair users (you don't get to call yourself a wheelchair user if you don't need the wheelchair 🤷) express frustration at this flippancy we're labeled "mean exclusionists who just want to ruin their fun."

I think the mobility of people without it takes priority over someone's "fun aesthetic"

[blade-dressed-in-red]

night time routine

pairing: noah sebastian x f!reader

content warnings: none! just fluff

A/N: i had this idea at 3am last night so here it is lmao. i have some other stuff brewing so that'll hopefully be out relatively soon, but in the meantime enjoy this :)

You and Noah have spent countless nights together, usually resulting in you doing a half-assed night routine, not wanting to spend any extra time away from him when he was around.

As things got more serious between you two, you realized you needed to start prioritizing your night routine like you did when you weren’t with him. 

One night Noah asked you to come over for dinner and spend the night, which you happily accepted.

You had enough putting less effort into yourself, deciding to bring over all elements of your night time routine. 

For your skincare, you brought your cleanser, face mask, toner, serums, moisturizer, retinol, and sunscreen for the following day. You decided to bring all your necessary post-shower products such as your body lotion and leave-in conditioner, already having some bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash at his place. You opted to bring your microfiber hair towel and silk bonnet as well, noticing how his cotton sheets were starting to mess with your hair every morning.

Once you made your way over and the night was dwindling down, you decided this was the best time to start getting ready for bed while he was sat at his desk playing a game before bed. You brought your toiletry bags into his bathroom, turned on the shower, and began the process.

While doing your skincare routine, hair in the towel, Noah came in wondering what was taking so long since he was quite used to you taking about ten minutes max out of the shower. 

“I’m doing my night routine, wanna join?” you asked absentmindedly, thinking he’d disagree and go back to whatever he was doing, but he accepted the offer

You two did face masks together and applied a couple products to Noah’s skin, opting to avoid any of the harsher products since his skin was sensitive. 

He asked various questions like a curious child in the process, “what does this one do?” “is this an exfoliator?” “is this the one that makes you so pretty?” he asked the last one jokingly, knowing your beauty didn’t come from a random bottle of what he learned to be hyaluronic acid.

He happily walked out of the bathroom, his skin feeling the best it’s ever been and settled into bed, waiting for you to finish up.

Being content with how dried your hair was, you braided it and put the bonnet over your head, walking back into the bedroom to Noah smiling like an idiot at your appearance.

“Aw, you look like a little chef” he claimed as you tucked yourself into the covers, lightly swatting his chest while giggling, earning a light chuckle from him.

Once you explained the benefits of a bonnet, he asked if he should get one since he was debating on growing his hair out again.

By the next time you spent the night, you two went to bed wearing matching bonnets. 

divider

tag list: @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lil-garbitch @fadingangelwisp @dontwantthemoney @heyyoplayer @death-ofpeace-ofmind @thatchickwiththecamera @shayeanna-ashlie @supersquirrel1996

[pansexualkiba]

the fact of the matter is that this doesn't read as irrational anger. you have given no indication it was as such until this very moment. you cannot simply go "haha this was all a joke can you not take a joke" when told that, no, what you were saying was not funny and was so detatched from what could be construed as funny that it looped back around to being seen as a genuinely divorced critique on the, how do i put this, "piss on the poor" website. this isn't the first or last time anyone has had this sort of discussion on tumblr, and i never implied it was. none of what we are discussing is novel.

i care because you are a person, and i saw that a person was angry and had a potentially-disordered experience with food intake, and hyperfocused on that because of my own personal experiences with such. i care because i thought you were being sincere in your anger, and wished to help you understand how it was misplaced (perhaps more curtly than i should have, but that is something i need to work on), because, again, this is the "reading miscomprehension" website, and i wish to actually combat that rather than exacerbate it. i care because being irrationally angry, even as a joke, is not "cute", especially when utterly disproportionate to a statement as benign as what is being quoted.

and, contrary to your belief that i just "assumed" you were a woman and "made a big deal out of it", you were the one in your tags to imply you were a woman. perhaps that is my error, and i apologize if it was. however, i did not "make a big deal out of it". i made one mention of you "being a woman" by stating that i am not invalidating your experiences as one (as i had mistakenly assumed you were). every other mention of the word "woman" is from me addressing your post (which, again, is not a valid form of a joke because it is indistinguishable from those you are joking about), and speaks of a hypothetical woman on a date with celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain.

personally, i think you might be the weird one for saying all this in the first place, and then, when i pointed out how divorced from reality it all is, attempt to walk it back by claiming it's all in good fun - and to that, i ask: whom, exactly, is this meant to be a mockery of?

i hope your situation improves.

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Paper Cuts." Intro—Daryl Dixon.

(Not my gif)

A/N: Hello everyone.

Once again, with great fear, I show you the intro of this little series, set before the apocalypse. This story is to show a little bit of how you and Daryl met before the end of the world, so I hope you like it! Thank you very much for giving it a chance. (I'm taking the liberty of tagging the people who commented on the post I made asking if you would like to read this story, and those who read "Like there was no tomorrow" but if you don't want to, don't hesitate to say so :)

Endless nights wondering why?

The emptiness in his uncomfortable mattress, always in the same position, counting the cracks in the ceiling. Insomnia, always alert, waiting still for the screams from the other side of the door and everything that brought, even if the perpetrators became ghosts a long time ago. Memories of his childhood desecrated, nightmares in his failed attempts to fall asleep, alone, until eventually boredom and tiredness forced him to close his eyes, only to then repeat the cycle in which he lived for many years. But not completely asleep, but always knowing the answer to: why I can’t? although never accepting the truth, living with it like a paper cut in his hand that burned.

All of that and more turned the boy into a young man who grew up unable to heal the wound, but that, at some point in his existence, found a way to live with it and without feeling any pain no more, because someone told him that, in the end, we’re all a little broken, and that's okay. At that moment his hand stopped hurting, and although it turned out rough after a lifetime of working with them, now the callousness of his fingers is invisible to you, nonexistent as Daryl continues to slide them over the small of your back, under your black t–shirt, up and down lazily because now, not sleeping is a choice.

Lying on his right side, his outstretched arm is the nest of your head and warm body while sleeping on your stomach, your hand in a loose fist against your face, a habit that makes him chuckle before he gently pushes it away, only to put his finger under your nose, just to check that you’re still breathing. Yeah, there you are, the responsible for the collision of his little world, fracturing the silence that Daryl Dixon had managed to achieve in his solitude. But he wouldn't change this for anything.

However, when the door of his old apartment opens and hits the wall with a thud, his natural protective instinct, the one that was born the first time he took care of his mother after witnessing her first blackout, makes his hand, a second after that resounding sound, leave your back only to press it against your ear to block out the loud giggles coming from the hallway.

As a reflex, your body moves in your sleep.

“Fuckin' asshole.” Daryl grunts in frustration, listening to the way his older brother silences whoever is accompanying him that night.

“Shh, shh, shh.” Merle laughs from the other side of the closed door on his way to his own room, intoxicated by alcohol and other things. “M' sure ma baby brother’s lil' angel is in there and we don’ wanna wake 'em up, darlin'...”

Although a short time later, the small apartment is filled with moans that travel through the thin walls.

“Goddamn it.” Tired, Daryl closes his eyes, wondering why the hell he hasn't been able to leave that shitty place.

Maybe it was the fear of starting, never something new because Daryl always lived tied to the past, to the pain and his scars, to the usual, to old habits, to his older brother who despite everything, is still his family. Although the ring hidden in his last drawer weighs with the opportunities he missed, that he let pass by for fear of rejection, for fear of his feelings overflowing when he had lived a life feeling little, or nothing at all. But then, there is a giggle on your part that forces him to open his eyes again, taking his hand away from your ear when Daryl sees you rubbing your closed eyelids before opening them, (with the fist you use to block your own breathing as he usually says to mock you) little by little to get used to the semi–darkness of the room and the partial light that enters through the only window.

“I think someone is filming a very dirty porno in your house.”

Daryl chuckles.

“M' sure the idiot paid her a lot of money to do that.”

You shrug, agreeing with him.

“Though I’ve never met such a religious person calling God that way.”

Surprised, Daryl lets out a laugh as he rubs his face, waking back up just as he was managing to fall asleep.

“Maybe we should jus' keep sleepin' at yer place.”

You nod softly, bringing your loose fist back up to your face.

“I think so. No offense, but your mattress is kinda hard.”

“Shit. Sorry, peach.” His hand finds its way back to your exposed skin, pushing himself close to your body. “M' gonna buy a new one. Now try to sleep 'cause I have to take yer pretty ass to work in the mornin'.”

You chuckle, closing your eyes, knowing well that now, easily, he too will go back to sleep.

You and Daryl had more in common than he ever thought you two would have, because he never met someone like you: a little broken but determined to live life to the fullest, as if you had never left little pieces of yourself behind. Maybe it was the memories of an interrupted childhood, the cigarettes shared on the edge of that lake of the woods where he usually takes you, the jokes you make with your sassy mouth, making fun of him like no one had ever done before, while showing him that laughing more than once a year was allowed, and that trips on his motorcycle were more fun in pairs.

But between meeting each other and breaking up, there was a life that was worth living even with those pains in our scars. Because now you know that the important thing about being alive is to live, even with those paper cuts on our skin that sometimes feel like bullet wounds, but those that, at some point in our lives, will no longer hurt at all.

@spookygothmommy @walkingtalkingsomething @m1nda0 @fluffy-dixon @stunkbiggu @kurogxrix @ffsjustletmesleep @kaz11283 @daryldixmedown @enretrogue

[fluffydeoxys]

need to stop being like "shut upppppp" to myself and treating this like my space (which it is) so! My thoughts behind my 2BD design + how it's changed in the ~3 months since I first did it.

Firstly I reevaluated how I see 2BD as a character. Obviously very grouchy and grumpy in this particular, sort of emotional sometimes subdued way. He's been alive for a while, has seen and endured many things, and has been tempered in the fires of this world. Older than Sanmos, not as old as Hank (although I attribute Hank's existence to a different kind entirely). This contributed to the shape language I decided: primarily stocky, rectangular shapes with the occasional rounded feature.

Edit: oh Ratchet from Transformers also helped/guided a lot of these thoughts and choices as well. Some overlap between the two in my mind.

He's muscled but not overtly, it's more out of necessity to defend himself and enact his goals. He prefers to do things from a distance and ends up a little more sedentary from extensive computer work, whether hacking or researching. Plus I think it's endearing in this gruff old man way. There is a softness (a roundness) that is particularly notable when he is vulnerable (dressed down, without the jacket and gloves in particular, wearing lazy clothes and especially with his mask off) so many don't get to see it.

The choice to give him a jacket that's rather ornate and cropped was partly self indulgence, but it was a conscious choice to make him look a bit... cooler? A bit of a crude way to say it but it's like "casual swag." The casual part is primarily in his pants, which are just plain and baggy with simple boots. Additionally I think I would lean more into this casualness when he's not working. When working, his mindset is different. Focused, in control. On his own, he cares a little less, and is a little more open.

As I described in the tags of a previous post, I think he has a lot of sentiment for personal details and enjoys mending and personalising clothes, albeit it has waned nowadays cus there's not much downtime. The jacket is something he's had for a long time. It's been beaten, cut, ripped, and each time he's filled it in with a new patch. Much like his own body.

The armband was subconsciously inspired by Persona 3, but it more explicitly came from the real world. Armbands usually signify some kind of occupation and rank, and I think it's a fun, cute detail. 2BD considers this operation important and I think he would take it seriously in that way, whereas everyone else kiiind of doesn't. Least I can't imagine Sanford or Deimos willingly putting on an armband to represent their allegiance. I don't know why they're working with 2BD tbf (I mean so the world doesn't . Die is a fair reason), but I guess its a messy and perhaps partially personal reason.

The cane is relatively self-explanatory in the original post, but I was quite happy with my idea that it has practical and multi-tool applications. 2BD is resourceful and proactive, almost to a bit of a pedantic degree. Plus I imagine it's 2BD supplying all those gadgets and implements when retrieving Deimos and Sanford, aside from the shit he probably steals as well.

The gloves were complete self-indulgence. I like claws. BUT I think it conveys his weird "doctor" occupation quite succinctly and gives him another cool point. Albeit I imagine I will switch to bare forearms and fingerless gloves whenever he's handling his VSS Vintorez, because they wouldn't really work well with a gun.

His colour palette ended up leaning into warmer tones sort of "accidentally", but I think it works well. Red in Nevada is a prominent, reoccurring colour that I think symbolises life (and death), and the Other Place. Zero, Hank and 2BD all have very strong ties to these concepts, so reds are prominently featured in their designs in different ways. 2BD, in my interpretation at least, is the most "human" in contrast to ZeroHank specifically. Those two are beings "beyond this world", and 2BD is the "mortal" between them.

The key on his neck is practical and symbolic, with a hint of being cute. It's just his house key, but it "represents" the idea that he is the key to open all secrets in this world. He's the one in control, the one in power, the one with answers. Plus I wanted a little piece of him that Zero or Hank could tug on.

I still think the monoeye goggles are cute, but they end up being a bit too cute for the intent of my "main" design. I will absolutely still draw him with them (especially for simplifications) but it ends up losing the intimidating quality a bit.

Also I saw that comment abt 2BD having burn scars and yeah I think I will experiment with adding those, I like the idea of them being on his face and forearms and that's why he has such prominent coverings on them. I'm not as experienced with depicting/stylising scars like that though so I might need a lot of practice.

I am pretty content with giving his scars more "story", in that a lot of them originate from being tortured during or shortly after his dissension (which is a circulating headcanon I personally liked).

Oh and here's his height difference with Zero.

Guy gets perfect eye level with Zero's chest like okay man. I'm also quite pleased with their contrasts because Zero is imposing and huge in this detached, almost cold way (additionally supplemented by her monochrome palette), whereas 2BD is imposing in this stout, grouchy way. Straight lines and curves and angular points.

Zero is still warm inside, but it doesn't reflect outwards. They're not human, they're not an existence that belongs here. Conversely, 2BD is warm, and full of "life" in this specific way. They don't quite covet 2BD's humanity, but they certainly feel something for it, like cradling a flame in a lantern.

I may revisit Zero's palette but I think I like this strict monochrome but who knows. I've always ascribed the windblown Nevadean desert to her, the desert wanderer, hellbound ghost, buuuut who knows. Maybe that could be reflected more strongly in her Magiturge form. The true self. I imagine I'll revisit it someday + perhaps create a version where her temporary "ascension" is contained in her physical form, letting it last longer at the cost of power.

Oh and I do still like 2BD's with long, soft mohawks but since I draw his fur collar in a particular way, doing the mohawk in that way felt like doubling up. Plus I love how it looks like a scratchy rough broom, it adds to his grouchiness. Pick him up and sweep with him

[just-null]

Do you ever do requests? If so, do you ever plan on drawing some Yandere with the Hantengu clones? :D hope you have a good day/night!!!

Mentioning an unfamiliar name

yes!! I love yanderes.. and these guys.. these guys are such good material...... nods nods..

I'm not sure about requests..I assume you mean drawing requests? I suppose if it REALLY catches my interest enough, I'd do it, but it'd probably just be line art/sketches.

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 6

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5]

[nieranddear]

Finally getting around to writing about it. Mostly since it would have needed to be contained inside the tags of the main post and there is no way this would’ve fit. It’s mostly just dialog rewrites, trying to keep it somewhat in character at the least, rereading on the characters and then debating over what to do, process of pain, and all that thinking stuff that makes my brain hurt. Typical things I'd put in the tags. Do know it is 1.6k words as a heads up.

I actually had an idea before that was written down the day of, as elaborated inside a post, but it felt really clunky and I couldn’t find the work around for it to make more sense or be natural than just having items go for a specific purpose than it feeling more akin to a decision made because it was a decision rather than a contrivance and necessity. Changed it the next day and did one draft for the dialog and then went into thumbnails. I didn’t think I would put this much effort into it? If I had known beforehand I would’ve definitely had done more time inside the planning stage to have it put out inside a form that I felt more content with. Specifically with the placement of dialog paired with the paneling. Some were fine but it ended up feeling as if it was either too claustrophobic, which I had attempted to fix later on by either condensing or moving some items around, or that it was either too fast pace wise. Hopefully it ended up alright in the end. I can’t quite remember as I didn’t write the exact thought process down but I tried to convey timing and feeling through the sizes of the panel and the background? Also typical comic or the like but I couldn’t tell if it was executed very well which is why it was brought up.

Ahhh the pacing was killing me. I tried to condense it but overall it just felt too rushed or unnatural. It still feels a bit unnatural but passable as simply awkward now. Already established and can be seen here but I tend to speak in a verbose manner. Either when explaining things or just talking in general when trying to communicate. Which also caused it to be drawn out. It was mainly the fact that I didn’t want to force an idea that felt too unnatural to me once more.

Actually interesting things. Dialog. And the two. These two. There was going to be a bit more teasing but it felt a bit off? Not sure. While Netzach did have words that were sarcastic or poking at the situation it was more of a dry, wry sort of thing than something he actually does often. Mostly out of that said hopelessness that was most present inside of LCorp. Though he is still one to complain it isn’t at an expense of himself or others. Along with the fact it was harder to try and find a situation to fit affection? Not so in the way to where it seemed impossible for a dynamic or relationship but more of the fact that typical situations of what I personally perceive to be relationships or romantic just wouldn’t flow. Netzach’s expression isn’t one of being loud. In multiple ways really. Not to say he doesn’t but in general his face isn’t as vividly expressive and his voice is quieter and he speaks inside a lethargic and slower way. This also transfers over to the experiencing of love and expressing of that love as well. Specifically when talking about or discussing the affection he had for Carmen it was a gentle but ever real and present adoration. Simply being content to go ahead and just be near her. To be near to see the passion and life inside of her eyes. But even with that affection the way he goes about to describe it is also very unsure? Not quite unsure but using language that isn’t as strong with the idea of ‘love’. It isn’t as if it is not there but it isn’t as if it was what one would call a typical, burning passion. Words such as ‘suppose’ only followed after a more lengthy pause to the idea of Carmen being his ‘first love’. Then going on to describe the dynamic by using the words provided. Along with ‘Was it love, really?’ to the first probing of the relationship and feelings towards Carmen. It felt odd if I went ahead and had such behaviors written down. Personally. Mostly due to the fact I wanted to try and express that more subtle or quiet showings of affections and adoration. No, I am not projecting. I just happen to be AroAce spec. Hashtag trust. Regardless, the way it was handled really stood out to me so I wanted to try and preserve that in a certain way or try to go ahead and have that shown in some manner. Things like his words about wanting to go ahead and express his emotions quietly down onto a painting. I wanted to try and have him do something like that and to capture that and more openly and physically present those emotions, that work and time, towards Yesod as another showing of affection. Plus the kiss on the cheek. I was debating keeping that in but a kiss is a more universal sign of communicating affection. Wanted to not have it on the lips for a sort of comfort thing? Like Yesod was already written on edge and a bit stressed due to the fact he was simply receiving things inside a showing of appreciation and affection and unable to go ahead and reciprocate or be able to return the favor or having planned to go ahead and physically do something. Adding onto the slight tension from being too close and trying to test the waters of being close. Putting it over here Yesod seems to be fine with space considering he quite literally walks up to Roland to touch and adjust his clothes. But it was more of the factors of getting inside of his space when already tense that I wanted to go ahead and be done. Going back to Netzach, the kiss was placed on the cheek inside a way to go ahead and still express that affection but still have it not be entirely inside of his space. A gentle cupping that could easily be stepped back away from but still a physical gesture. I kept going back to the idea of him wanting to try. Going to go ahead and try and attempt to do things. A whole thing with him is wanting to go ahead and try. Try to live. Try to put in the work. Try and actually put effort in. Which then translated over to wanting him to try and get himself to go and express and show that affection towards the other.

Yesod. Where do I start with you. Well I suppose continuing off of the idea of him being more ahh I can’t find the word. Anxious I suppose? I don’t know the correct feeling or word to adequately identify it. Alexithymia and all of that. But it the sort of feeling you get when you’re unable to do or complete something, causing a sort of restlessness and some sort of discomfort inside. Maybe that is anxiety. Regardless. The prospect of being unable to return or to be able to go ahead and repay inside the one sided exchange of items or words received. Wanted to have it to where it felt maybe wrong? Or the sort to go ahead and receive something without any prerequisite or action to balance it out. Thus having him more on edge and a bit more irritable during the conversation. Yesod himself is rather composed, really. The things he ended up becoming more worked up about were subjects where he was more passionate about an injustice. Even then he tends to collect himself after such matters. Even inside LCorp he was one to go ahead and be able to reign himself in and restrain himself inside his emotions. Even during the meltdown which is a bit funny to think about in an ironic way. Which is understandable considering everyone inside LCorp was far more unstable. But still under a situation that upsets or distresses he ends up expressing a temper that he does have. I wanted to try and have him be physically more stiff? On edge or just more tense at it all. Going ahead and opening up with sorting/rechecking/replacing of the books upon the shelf as a sort of way to soothe and get comfort and also physically actually do something while thinking. Any other thing to add would end up being the notes about trying to get their body language down and what to do with them. A slight tilt on Netzach’s head and shifting of it. General slouching. Was also debating keeping some of the body language in or not or just gesticulations but ended up keeping it in for the sake of it not being visually boring. Yesod with pauses and more stationary bodywise. Mostly only really small tilts or eye movement. 

Other patrons mentioned! I feel like they would be the types to go out and initiate some sort of gift giving. Maybe others responding or doing something in their own right afterwards but those few seemed like the type to have something planned or ready specifically just for the day. Tiphereth as well because despite her more snappy words and ruder sentences she can end up saying which she doesn’t really mean she does care for them all. So I thought it would be nice if Tiph went ahead and wanted to try and express or extend that showing because of that. Malkuth feels like the type to do some trinkets or the sort and more physical showings of affection through hugs and the like. Hod feels like the sort to go ahead and make personalized notes. Also fitting for the floor of literature patron. Chesed because he is a social creature and also likes excuses to go ahead and visit or see others and just chat.

hoptal

[unexpectedbrickattack]

shenanigans

[nesciobescio]

You'd think this was meant to be a christmas bk art but no i just love drawing khun in scarfs and this time bam managed to get in as well (figuratively and literally)

[cent-scratchnsniff]

cant do much else right now but sketch

[kkoct-ik]

i dont remember why i drew this