#looking at it may cause permanent blindness

[luckykiwiii101]

THE DEVIL DOESN’T WEAR SUBMISSION! SHE WEARS PRADA, OH!- AND NARCISSISM!

| | THE 411 ON HOW TO MANIFEST YOUR DREAM LIFE! | |

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

ཐི keep your head & heels high, and your middle finger higher ཋྀ

ཐི TABLE OF CONTENTS ཋྀ

✰ BELIEVING IN THE LAW ✰

✰ “AND WHO AM I? BETTER THAN YOU” ✰

✰SELF CONCEPT; BE NARCISSISTIC, THE GOSSIP GIRL WAY✰

✰ YOUR WAY IS THE RIGHT WAY & THE ONLY WAY ✰

✰ SPIRALS ARE ONLY FOR STAIRCASES ✰

p.s. psssst!! hey “void” worshippers, this is also for you. so read it. To everyone, take a day off to let all this information settle, it’s quite a lot!!

Welcome back Upper East Siders.

It’s often said that, no matter the truth, people see what they want to see. Some people might take a step back and find out that they’ve been looking at the same big picture all along. Some people see that their lies have almost caught up to them. Some people may see what was there all along.

But because you’ve fallen to submission, chances are that you’re blinded from the things that are right in-front of you. I’d call you legally blind but it’s a different type of law that you’re breaking.

Talk about secrets of the universe, but you’re living proof that knowledge doesn’t always mean wisdom, and that money can’t buy style, or class.

And if there’s one thing we all know about fashion, it’s that before putting an article of clothing on, you have to take one off, usually with the intention of putting another one back on. Or you’ll end up looking like a complete mess! or under your best friend’s BF! I hope S is taking notes…but even the biggest superstars need a stylist. And luckily for you, I have a friend who’s into fashion, and not just any fashion, high fashion, Little J, come out, come out wherever you are…

Oh wait! Almost lost track of my endless talents but i’m also great at fashion, and i’m simply just better. You can go back to crashing runways little J, and also just…running away.

✰ BELIEVING IN THE LAW ✰

First of all, I want you to know that all your dreams are possible and very easy. So this is for those doubtful upper east siders who forgot that the law of assumption is actually real, and not some joke made up by teenagers online.

Spend some time going through my law of assumption proof gallery to help clear your doubts in the law -> CLICK ME!

Now that you’ve boosted your faith in the law of assumption, of course you can believe 99%, but you’re going to have to fill that 1% on your own, through your own success.

✰ “AND WHO AM I? BETTER THAN YOU” ✰

Do you understand the law of assumption? -> CLICK ME

And do you understand who you actually are? Cause when someone asks, your only response should be “god”. -> CLICK ME

So how does “the void state” & “reality” work? In your favour, as usual -> CLICK ME

✰SELF CONCEPT; BE NARCISSISTIC, THE GOSSIP GIRL WAY✰

Spotted: Lonely boy’s rude awakening. Upper East Side Queens arent born at the top. They climb their way up in heels, no matter who they have to tread on to do it. Now what to wear with those heels…

Well, we hear narcissism’s in fashion, and rumour has it, she’s here to stay. But as I said before, putting a new outfit on requires taking the other off, and I ask disrespectfully, WHAT is that outfit!? You need a serious makeover! -> CLICK ME

A wise woman once said, the most dangerous enemies are the ones we never knew we had. And then there are those assumptions you never knew you held.

Now that you know why you kept failing previously, it’s time for your new self concept! And your permanent self concept. I promise, you’ll never fail again. You can’t do something impossible like failure. And since you understand the law and who you are (I AM) you know that failure simply isn’t possible.

What to wear? Failure? No. Narcissism. She looks much better on you anyway. Choose to wear the ugly outfit? Well I’ve got a friend on cyberspace who knows exactly what to do. And those flashes of clicked pics definitely aren’t coming from the paparazzi.

But I know, I know. “Narcissism” Isn’t that a bad thing? Not when it comes to being who you want. And all I mean is putting yourself on the highest pedestal. You’re going to completely fall in love with yourself, by becoming your desired self. That includes you void worshippers! Stop being submissive to the outer self. You dictate her, not the other way around. You’re going to be your desired self who has their dream life, no matter what. You’re above everyone and everything! Narcissistic, I like it.

First of all, remind yourself of what your dream life is and who you’re going to dedicate yourself to being. All good? Perfect! So here’s your new self concept & reminders to self -> CLICK ME

With this, what you’re going to do, is make your own personalised self concept guide. The one i’ve given you is only generalised to everyone’s use. I’ve given “directions” on where to add your own ideas, but don’t remove my ones because they’re extremely important and shouldn’t be ignored!! To make your own personalised self concept guide, just copy & paste the text on the template, and add your own ideas to your heart’s content, and decorate it to your liking & aesthetic. No harm in making it look pretty. Use pretty colours, pretty pics of your dream life etc. I recommend making yours on either notion, or tumblr. If you do end up making yours on tumblr, make it a private & pinned post so that you’ll see it on your front page and remember to come back to it. The only time you should ever open tumblr is to view your self concept guide or this post or the other ones i’ve made!!

Get into the state of being your desired self. Because that IS you. Embody your new self concept. Relish in it. Love it. You are going to fully immerse yourself into your new self concept. Finally, once and for all, be the real you. She’s been waiting for you.

✰ YOUR WAY IS THE RIGHT WAY & THE ONLY WAY ✰

A lot of upper east siders have been wondering. “What’s the right way to manifest?” Your way. Your way and only your way. Whatever you want is the right thing to do. You should already understand that from “enter the god state” post. That’s why it’s important that you personalise your own self concept guide!! YOU make the rules!

I hope you like the self concept template i’ve given you, and now you’re going to embody your dream self.

✰ SPIRALS ARE ONLY FOR STAIRCASES ✰

Need a wake up call? CLICK ME! They don’t call New York “the city that never sleeps” for nothing.

The purpose of the self concept guide and why it’s so important is to stop you from spiralling. Need guidance? Go back to the self concept guide and remind yourself of who you are.

Also, I have a post that really helps with spiralling. Come back to this every time you feel like spiralling -> CLICK ME

And don’t forget upper east siders, if you won’t do it out of love, do it out of spite. And you’re going to be bitch, at-least do it the right way. You’re the boss. The devil doesn’t wear submission, she wears prada, oh!- and narcissism. XOXO

- gossip girl

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

[futuremercifulnerd]

Fuck it, hi 🤡

[liberalsarecool]

“In four years of medical school, three years of residency training, and nearly 30 years in practice as a family physician I have never been asked “what is the definition of a woman?”

Seems obvious that one could just look at the genitalia. You’re either a boy or a girl, right? Well, not always. Although it’s rare, many people are born with ambiguous genitalia. The OB/GYN and the pediatrician are simply unable to determine the sex. Historically, in consultation with the family, a sex would be assigned. Turns out that often as not the child would ultimately identify with the sex they were not assigned.

So it must be the chromosomes. The 23rd pair in humans is designated XX in females and XY in males. The Y chromosome determines male characteristics, so you are either a boy or a girl, right? Well, not always.

In embryology the default setting is female. The Y chromosome normally triggers male development. Ever heard of testicular feminization syndrome, now more properly referred to as androgen insensitivity syndrome? Sometimes an XY baby is born with essentially normal female external genitalia. The body simply does not respond to androgens associated with the Y chromosome. As the child grows and enters puberty there will be normal female breast development and other feminine characteristics. Unless genetic testing has been done at some point, the abnormality is not discovered until the teenage daughter presents to the doctor with concerns that menstruation has not started. Examination will reveal that the vagina ends in a blind pouch, no uterus, and undescended testes. They are often very feminine - cheerleaders, beauty pageant contestants, etc.

Nearly everybody is a “normal” XX or XY, has anatomy to match, and is perfectly at peace with themselves. But not everybody. Several studies have identified how the sexual diversity between men and women does not exclusively involve the genitals, but also the development of different brain areas. And just as genitals can be ambiguous, or not match what XY would predict,so can the brain in some instances develop in a different direction than the genitals. Animal studies suggest this is likely due to atypical levels of sex hormones in the womb.

One of several such structures studied in the human brain have involved an area of the limbic system known as the nucleus of the terminal stria. The volume of this area appears to be influenced by the stimulation of sex hormones during brain development, and in men the volume of this area is greater than in women. Scans of this area in transgender women (genetic/anatomic men who identify as females) resemble that of non transgender females. In this matter gender identity develops from the complex interactions between sex hormones and brain during its development; moreover, this appears to be genetically predetermined and is not influenced by hormonal stimuli during the adult phase. It is important to understand that at this point it is not known for certain what causes gender dysphoria or incongruence, just as we don’t know for certain what makes someone gay or for that matter, left handed.

Gender dysphoria often begins in childhood and can lead to severe distress, depression, and suicide. Treatment includes thorough psychological and medical evaluation and psychotherapy. Hormonal treatments in children are designed to delay puberty until decisions about desired gender characteristics can be made. The treatments are not permanent and are REVERSIBLE. Hormone treatments are not given to prepubertal children and in fact are not started until Tanner stage 2 of puberty. Sex change (gender reassignment) operations are not done on children. (Rare exception might be in the case of ambiguous genitalia where surgery may be done to make genital appearance more consistent with the genetic sex).

Unfortunately there are many people who cannot or will not understand that someone different from themselves might really be different for a real reason. I recently watched a video of a Fox News personality guffawing, in an arrogant and grotesque display of not knowing what one does not know, about how "woke liberals" were looking into the science of what makes someone a man or a woman. I hope the information provided here explains why that question is not quite as simple as it sounds.

It is also unfortunate in Texas that people with political power seem to think that trans people just want to get on the girls' track team

to win a lot of medals or get in the girls' rest room to watch them pee. Governor Abbott, Lt Gov Patrick, and AG Paxton have shown profound ignorance and cruelty in decreeing treatment for these kids to be child abuse. Even right wing columnist Mona Charen called Abbott's behavior "malice masquerading as policy making". They really no different than lunchroom bullies.

The American Academy of Pediatrics, American Academy of Family Physicians, American Medical Association, American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, and the Endocrine Society have expressed outrage that government is inserting itself into a matter that should be left to families, patients, and their doctors. There are well established evidence based procedures that have been in place for decades. This is not a new phenomenon and it is not a fad. Treatment saves lives. Denying treatment is cruel.

I would hope that someone will share this with a conservative friend. For most of us it seems ridiculous that a guy would think he is a woman, or a woman to think she is a man. The human brain and human body are complex and wondrous and get it “right” almost every time, but sometimes they get it different. And different should not be wrong, and different people and their families should not be attacked by their own government.”

- Joe McCreight, MD

[bones4thecats]

Their S/O Is An Ancestor of Odysseus 

Type of Writing: Random Idea  Name: Their S/O Is An Ancestor to Odysseus  Characters: Poseidon, Ares, and Hades  Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts, Epic: The Musical, and Homer’s The Odyssey 

A/N: In honor of the fifth saga of Epic: The Musical coming out today, I decided to finally write this fun prompt I made months ago. I hope you guys enjoy this piece, I personally loved writing it so much! Anyways, I have a question for you all; What is your favorite Epic: The Musical saga and your favorite song/character? 

⚠️ TW: Mentions of death, attempted murder, and permanent physical damage ⚠️ 

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Deity! Reader ; Ancestor to Odysseus - Relationship: 3/10

🔱 When he first met you, you had told him you had human descendants, and he accepted that whole-heartedly. You cannot change your lineage or who they have kids with *ZEUS

🔱 Anyways. Poseidon did eventually ask to see your only known descendant, at least to you. And he was not amused to see him again 

🔱 You and Hermes just stood alongside one another and lead Poseidon to the male’s home, the only reason Hermes knew is because your initial descendant, who was the human’s father, had a child with Hermes’ female descendant, Anticlea 

🔱 Smiling gently as a young male named Telemachus ran up and hugged you as a female, that being Penelope, also came out and embraced you while she smiled and nodded to Hermes 

🔱 Asking to see the boy’s father, Poseidon gained a small sense of nervousness. Why was he suddenly a hair off about seeing your once-living descendant 

🔱 Oh, this was why… 

" Poseidon, my love. Meet- "  " Odysseus?! " 

🔱 Looking back and forth between your blonde-lover and your brunette descendant, Odysseus, you began to look at Hermes, asking him with your eyes how they knew one another 

" What a coincidence, Uncle Poseidon! It seems that Y/N is the ancestor to Odysseus, the man who you tried killing multiple times centuries ago! How intriguing! "  " You tried to WHAT?! " 

🔱 Odysseus narrowed his eyes at the God of the Seas and walked to you, opening his arms for a hug, which you sincerely accepted as you glared at your husband in silent rage. Your eyes said everything to him; you better explain yourself. 

🔱 Poseidon sighed lightly and began to tell you everything, right from the start of his involvement with Odysseus 

" You do remember Polyphemus, correct? "  " Of course I remember him. Why? "  " Your boy here blinded him. He and his men had come in and attempted to steal his flock of sheep from him. And, after a mild fight, he blinded him with a burning steak, as he slept nonetheless. How cowardly. " 

🔱 While you were now upset with both parties, Telemachus and Penelope eventually got the two to come to an understanding as to not upset you and possibly cause a massive dispute that may end up with you losing your mind, and not fakely like Odysseus tried 

🔱 Odysseus and Poseidon may act nice when your looking, but they literally glare at one another when you look another way. And you know this, but seeing them at least try to bond to help you warms your heart to much to say anything ✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

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Deity! Reader ; Ancestor to Odysseus - Relationship: 6/10 

⚔️ You were thankful that Ares had enough free time to come with you down to Elysium to meet your descendant 

⚔️ He has always asked you questions of him, and because you finally got back into contact with the man who distantly shared your blood, you excitedly told him that he, his wife, and his son were all available the following week 

⚔️ Ares was nervous as hell when approaching the house of your descendant 

⚔️ They’re basically the only family you have left, since Hermes doesn’t count because you weren’t related, your lineage members were 

⚔️ But, in a way of generosity, Hermes decided to join you both. In his words, which were twisted majestically with a suave tone that matched the once youthful Zeus had, he just wanted to encounter the man who was the result of two deity-influenced offsprings coming together 

" Lady Y/N! To what do we owe the pleasure? "  " The pleasure is all mine, youngling. Now, where's Penelope and her husband? They invited me here with my husband- "  " Lord Ares! "  " Uh- yeah… "  " Can you please direct us to them, ma'am? "

⚔️ After being directed to a long dining room, which was where you found a young male with brunette hair, an older-woman, and an older-man with the same hair as the younger one 

⚔️ Smiling as you hugged him and the two other mortal and humanized souls, Ares narrowed his eyes at the older man, before asking who he was 

" Odysseus, King of Ithaca. And this is my wife, Penelope, and my son, Telemachus. And you must be Ares, the God of War. It is a pleasure to meet you. "  " And you… Odysseus. " 

⚔️ While Ares was caught off guard by how adaptive and calm-seeming Odysseus was, he was quite pleased with how accepted the human was with his ancestor marrying a relative of the man who tried killing him and did kill most of his men 

⚔️ But, he is thankful that Poseidon doesn’t randomly come up in the conversation. As that would’ve led to Odysseus hearing the stories of how, in Poseidon’s eyes, he was a horrendous person 

⚔️ Well, they ain’t wrong. His personality kinda lacks sometimes

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Deity! Reader ; Ancestor to Odysseus - Relationship: 9/10 

💀 Hades was pleased to hear how adoringly you would speak of your human lineage. Most deities would shun that, as they believe Humanity are a bunch of scum and worse than rust on a boat’s underside 

💀 He is a family-centered man at heart, so seeing how close you were to these humans made him want to meet them himself 

💀 But what he didn’t expect was seeing a familiar face standing alongside a woman and younger boy 

💀 It was Odysseus. The man who blinded his nephew, Polyphemus, and enraged his second-younger brother, Poseidon 

" Oh! How unexpected, right, Uncle Hades? " 

💀 Yeah, he just stood there for a good few minutes, just staring with wide eyes like this; 🤯 

💀 Hades eventually snapped out of his daze and cleared his throat before offering his hand to the King of Ithaca, his wife, and son, while you just opened your arms to embrace them as if you had known them for centuries 

💀 Well, you have, but you get the point 

💀 You and Penelope had nudged Hades through the castle before landing in a room where there laid many tapestries of happenings from Odysseus’ journey back home, but the three decorative fabrics that stood out were Polyphemus’ attack, Poseidon’s iconic rage, and Odysseus in the Underworld 

" Ah, you seem to have found my small shine. I remember all of these events as if it was yesterday, and I suppose 9 years prior. "  " Yes… I seemingly forgot that you had come to the Underworld to seek out… oh what was his name again? Oh, yes, Tiresias. " 

💀 Hearing of Odysseus’ experience in Hades’ Kingdom made them slightly closer, as Hades allowed him to visit some of his deceased previous crewmates and his mother, whom was happy to see him years later 

💀 They have a far better bond than Hades does with the rest of his brothers, but he must keep that from Poseidon. His jealousy knows no end

[igotanidea]

Judgement: Benedict Bridgerton x actress!reader

Requested by @jaysgirlx <3

***

She wasn’t the most beautiful.

Or the most talented.

And definitely not born in the best family.

Nonetheless, neither of us, no matter how much willpower we are endowed with, has the possibility of choosing the environment we are born into. That is solely up to fate.

What we can choose, however, is how we adapt to the circumstances, how we behave, who we become and how we cope with the opinions that are – more often than not – negative and critical.

Especially when a woman, regardless of standards of an ossified, prejudiced society decides to make a living by being an actress. For Y/N Y/L/N no work was dishonorable. For the ladies of the ton, such profession was almost equal with being a lady of easy virtue. For the men – well- the behavior of some of them was below any norms of decency.

Funny how the point of view depends on the point of sitting.

***

She was late again.

For the third time this week and it was barely Wednesday. Not a good scorecard she kept and it definitely got under the skin of the theater owner. Y/N could not quite comprehend why the gentleman was so irritated since from the moment she stepped foot in that sanctuary of art she has been doing every single thing needed. Not only acting, but also cleaning the floor if required, repairing the costumes, helping with the dialogues. Very versatile all things considered.

Desperate for a job and survival? No, not entirely, maybe a little.

Enamored and passionate by the employ that gave her a bread and a questionable opinion. Yes, absolutely.

Rushing through the busy London streets, miraculously avoiding respectable matrons and their equally respectable lord consorts was not the best of the ideas of reducing, even to a small extent, the extent of her delay.

Y/N did not pay much attention while crossing the street either, obviously missing the speeding carriage and the moment she looked to the right, finding herself mere inches from the hooves of spooked horses, her entire life flashed in front of her eyes.

She let out a embarrassingly high cry of shock and freeze on the spot, mentally preparing herself of leaving the globe and letting her spirit fly away to some better world just like Julia Capulet did after her beloved Romeo—

“Watch out!” a man’s voice, a firm yet gentle grip of hand on her waist and a second later she was safely back on the pavement, sustaining no permanent injuries, save for rapid breathing and slightly flushed cheeks. “Are you all right, my lady?”

“I am not a lady.” She retorted automatically shaking her head and slowly raising her gaze to give thanks to her lifesaver “Mr. Bridgerton!” the second son of the late viscount was definitely not the person she expected to see and it made her take a step back immediately.

Almost ending up under another carriage if it wasn’t for Benedict Bridgerton’s reflexes and a bright, teasing smile.

“You don't learn from your mistakes, my lady” he teased “am I this repulsive to make you step away upon noticing my face? Is this how women behave this day?”

“Forgive me my Lord, I was blinded by all your glory” she almost rolled her eyes, saying the words before biting her own tongue. “oh…” the gasps that came out of her mouth a moment later only caused Benedict to laugh wholeheartedly.

“Not the usual reaction I get from a woman.”

“I can tell, my lord. I am sure ladies do swoon at the sight of you. And now that Viscount Bridgerton had tied the marriage knot you sure are looking for a wife so –” she sopped in the middle of the sentence realizing she was babbling again.

“Oh so you are a woman after all. Gossiping.” Benedict smirked.

“I beg your pardon!”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” he tilted his head examining her face trying to assess the possibility of them meeting before.

“No, my lord. I do not believe we have met.”

“May I have your name then, my lady?”

“Not a lady, my lord. And you should not preoccupy the place in your head with remembering my name.” she bowed, lacking skills a bit and – suddenly remembering that she was late – rushed to the theater.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Of course they have met before, but why would she remind him of the circumstances of the event happening so many weeks ago?

He was a student in the art academy, lately enhancing his skills in the portrait area, polishing the subject of anatomy. Both male and female, with the latter obviously much more involving in many hands-on way and that was not a secret. Those models were beautiful and fragile after all and being confronted with the harsh reality of XIX century London they had nothing more to offer than their bodies. Y/N almost ended up the same, but her talent for acting changed everything.

Regardless, her older brother was earning some additional funds by assisting the students, providing canvas, brushes, paints, wine, measures of various kinds. Whatever the domineering might wish for. And one day she was visiting him, entering the classroom without the knowledge that the lesson was still in progress.

And so she ended up in the middle of the room full of men with a naked model on the platform, under the barrage of astonished glances.

“Oh look, we got another one to help us study today!” one of the men cried out and the entire room started laughing. “You ought to wait for your turn, sweetheart. Do not fret though, we’ll take proper care of you.”

She blushed like a peony, her hands trembling a little.

“I was eagerly awaiting the moment when the Academy will provide us with a full shaped, average of beauty woman and here we are! My prayers have been answered, gentlemen!”

She blushed even more at the clear invective threw her way. Men could really behave like animals in their own company. Zero decency, respect for others or moderation. And the worst part was that all the ton knew about this open secret and gave their universal consent to that. Men were supposed to have their flings before marriage even if that meant a lot of improper things.

Her half-furious, half-hurt eyes scanned the room, taking in all the men gathered their and their attire, not paying much attention to either before landing on that one person who actually looked like having at least a little self-reflection.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Frozen with the brush in his hand and slightly unbuttoned shirt, torn between joining the common laugh on her expense and putting an end to this merciless, ongoing teasing. Before he could do a thing however she put an end to his misery and left the room with the solemn resolution to never interact with any of those debauched animals.

Judging Benedict as quickly and easily as all the society judged her.

***

“Quickly! We’re almost starting and you cannot seem to be on time even once!”

“I am—”

“do not interrupt me girl, put on the costume and get on the stage! I swear one of those days you will make me do the thing I will regret!”

***

That woman spurred some memories in Benedict’s mind even if couldn’t fully put all the pieces of the picture together. At least not until Eloise playfully smacked his side.

“What?”

“Do you know who you just saved?”

“That girl back there?” he massaged the sore place giving his sister a reproachful look “no idea. Should I know her?”

“That’s Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Uh… okay?”

“She’s an actress!”

“Um…”

“She’s a self-made, independent woman not looking for marriage and free of societal expectations!”

“You better not let out mother find out that a woman with no title is your role model.”

“Oh I’d be more than happy to let her know that. I believe that the amount of injustice put on women-“

“I do realize the amount of your thoughts in the subject.”

“Since when are you judgmental?” Eloise scoffed

“I am not!”

“Fine then Come see her performance with me.”

***

Y/N was almost pushed on the stage, without having any time to gather her thoughts or to revise her role, forced to improvise by putting on a bright fake smile and subjecting the audience to a minute or two of suspension, before realizing what she was supposed to play that day.

Clearing her throat and fixing her costume she stepped into the light, joining the rest of the cast on the stage and started giving her lines.

Any other time she would be focused solely on the scene and words coming out her mouth making sure each of them were perfectly accentuated and spoke just the right way.

So what was this inexplicable instinct that made her scan the audience?

Spotting him.

With his eyes fixed on her, showing something that could not be mistaken for anything else but sheer admiration.

And she did not like it at all.

to be continued? ;)

[lazyscience]

So for my followers who come with a factory-installed uterus I know you're concerned about your health and autonomy. And you well should be

But here's something all of you should be thinking about and planning for no matter what your plumbing - if Trump goes through with putting RFK Jr. in a position of power as far as the Department of Health and Human Services, he could do a LOT of damage as far as vaccines. Vaccines are not super profitable for pharma companies, despite what cranks think; they take a LOT of development for only a few uses. Vaccines are driven by public health requirements and a lot of places would shrug and say "ok, bet" if there isn't a guaranteed market for them.

The professional medical community will still have recommendations about when and how to vaccinate, but they won't have the force of law, and insurance will probably smell blood in the water and start kicking up a fuss about covering vaccines when they're not required. So then when doctors recommend them there'll be suspicion and pushback that they're just doing it for "kickbacks" even though the only doctor who would have gotten paid for vaccine is ironically Andrew Wakefield, the lying fuckshit, because his whole "vaccines cause autism" lie was to push his OWN, SPECIAL proprietary vaccines that wouldn't cause his made-up syndrome, because NO vaccines were causing it. May he roast somewhere warm when the devil comes for him.

This will not happen immediately, but. Because there will no doubt be anticipatory compliance on the part of drug companies and healthcare systems. I HIGHLY advise you get the fuck out there and get your Tdap updated (tetanus, diptheria and pertussis). Whooping cough is out there, and it is horrible for babies. If you are eligible for shingles vaccine and haven't done it, get that. Get your COVID vax if you haven't, there might not BE another one, at least not that's available in the US.

If you have kids, especially make sure THEY'RE up to date because their classmates might very well not be mandated to get them any more - state regulations will undoubtedly vary, but with the current composition of the Court, it will rule in favor of every possible exemption for antivaxxers as possible because the conservatives are all "fuck the weakest of us, I got mine fuck you." And expect idiocy like "pox parties" to spread (not like the average suburban parent can tell measles from rubella from chicken pox from hand foot and mouth by fuckin' looking at it, who knows what the christ they're going to be passing around). Measles is NOT just a "bit of a rash." Rubella is the world's leading preventable cause of birth defects. Chickenpox can result in scarring, encephalitis causing blindness or even death, and the risk of shingles later in life. I have a cousin who would be 57 this year who died as a toddler from hemophilus influenzae strain B meningitis, one of those "too many" childhood vaccines that were invented in the 1990s. Tell my aunt that's too many vaccines -oh, wait, you can't, she fucking killed herself out of grief her baby died.

tweens? get them the HPV vaccine if they haven't gotten it (given its associations with sex it'll probably be one of the first to go, but it prevents CANCER. who wants their child to get cervical cancer, or penile cancer, or throat cancer, or rectal cancer? IT PREVENTS CANCER. JUST DO IT.)

Similarly, if you have a child with any kind of immune issue that precludes vaccination, I would very much look into homeschooling, because bye-bye herd immunity.

If you have teenage kids, encourage them to update their Tdap and get the meningiococcal meningitis vaccine if they haven't been mandated to already by campus policy. Tetanus and meningitis aren't common, but they are frequently permanently life-altering when they're not fatal. We're talking months in the hospital. I'm old enough that I remember people fucking dying in college, and the panic that went around campus every time one of those breakouts happened in the state wondering if it would make its way to our campus.

Stay safe out there. I have no idea what this will do to our already teetering healthcare system but I don't think it'll be pretty. Everybody pray Trump pulls his usual scam and hangs RFK Jr. out to dry, because while the plutocrats consider regulations an unnecessary burden, they don't have a stake in creating a public health state of emergency when we already have a workforce not keeping up with demand, unlike Captain Convenient Brain Worm.

[theoreticalfishsticks]

Warhammer 40k x Spider-Person!Reader

Sorry if this is cringe, but the autism got to me and I am physically incapable of not wanting to smash my current favorite medias together like a tyrannical toddler making their dolls kiss.

I purposefully kept it vague on exactly which legion found them and whether it was pre or post-heresy, cause I think, going forward if I write more, I'd like to jump around and just write for whoever, whenever suits my fancy, lol. This is meant more as an introduction of the concept than anything else.

Reader is non-binary because I said so.

divider from @/enchanthings

Word Count: 1929

If someone had told you this morning that by the end of the day you’d be yearning for the comforting embrace of a back alley dumpster, you’d have called them crazy. But, alas, here you are: your suit in tatters, surrounded by the stench of foreign exhaust and something sickeningly biological, about to be absolutely eviscerated by some dude who looks like he just crawled out of Doctor Octavius’ worst nightmares.

Now, one might ask ‘how’ exactly you found yourself in this situation. And it would be a fair question! Really! Unfortunately, fair as it is, you don't actually have a proper answer, yourself.

‘Why’ you ended up here, however, was relatively simple: You’re the one and only Huntsman. A friendly neighborhood spider-person, looking out for their community. And most recently, what exactly your community needed you to be looking out for was a symbiote, loose in the city. 

Too bad, then, that lady luck must have had a bone to pick with you that day.

Because following an embarrassingly long chase of the damned thing through the New York City sewer system, the hungry, hungry parasite just so happened to stumble upon one of Os Corps. many, many underground research facilities. Seriously, why do they have so many of these things? One that apparently – based on what is to come – must have been deep in the midst of research on some form of teleportation or another. 

Long-story-short: In your desperate attempts to not be grabbed and eaten by an ornery symbiote, you may have stopped paying attention to what exactly was behind you whilst evading the weird alien goop. And what would you know? One careless dodge (and a near comically late tingle in your bones from your spidey sense) and a stray shot of said goop managed to hit and set off Os Corps’ latest and greatest affront to humanity!

BOOM! 

In the blink of an eye your entire world had been rendered to naught but blinding light, sharp pain in every inch of your body and a ringing in your ears that, in the moment, felt like it was going to be permanent. 

You really can't be sure how long you were trapped like that; your consciousness suspended, unable to gauge the passage of time, nor feel your material surroundings. It felt like a lifetime. But, then again, you have been known to be a little bit dramatic from time to time, so who knows.

What you do know for sure was that it ended. The feeling of being suspended, that it. And the light. The pain, of course, stayed. As did the incessant ringing. 

If you had to describe the feeling, you'd say it felt almost like your bones were in the process of trying to evacuate your body. Like there wasn't enough space in you, for you. It was agony. 

But, worse than the pain, you just felt… Wrong. As though your eyes had been pulled out and put back in the wrong sockets. Your tongue was the wrong texture. Your teeth were upside down. Your liver was too smooth. And a thousand other minute sensations that couldn't be real flooded your body. 

At least, you hoped to God they weren't real.

Lucky for you though, you didn't have much time to dwell on the uncanny sensation, as a clawed metal appendage descended from somewhere above you to close tightly around your throat. Your body felt like it was on fire as you were hefted up from the ground by your neck. Another claw grasped at your head and tugged away what was left of your mask.

You want to reach out and snatch it back. You want to struggle and kick and scream. But you can't. You can't will yourself to move at all as your eyes snap open at last, and you come face to face with without a doubt the most horrific monstrosity you've ever seen.  

Though now a putrid blending of flesh and machine, the thing before you looks as though it might have been human at one point. But that point was far from now. Now, what skin you can see is sallow and sunken, with veins protruding all across it. It has what looks like a gas mask embedded into its face and where the flesh meets metal is layered in inflamed, gnarled scarring.

Mercifully, however, its face is all you can clearly see. The rest is hidden beneath a rather ostentatious looking robe, disguising what you can only imagine to be equally horrific means of attachment for the several mechanical appendages that flow from it. Including, of course, the one currently choking the life out of you.

For a long moment you can only stare at the thing in front of you, gaping like an idiot, before you finally register that its horrid mask is moving. It's talking to you.

At least, you assume it is. Though, now declined significantly in volume, you still struggled to make out anything through the ringing.

You try to say as much, to tell the nightmare that you couldn't understand it. But it seems as though you weren't successful, if the violent, impatient shake the creature gave you in response was any indication. Or maybe your meaning came across fine and the thing was just an asshole. Both seemed possible. 

At last, the ringing begins to fade more or less and you could scrounge together two whole brain cells to rub together and bring your mind into focus.

“Intruder. Identify yourself,” the creature demanded, its voice horrifically garbled and interspersed with high-pitched whirring.

You’d love to do so, if only you could actually take in the air required to make noise. This hurdle, however, seemed to be lost on the mechanical horror before you, leaving you to squirm helplessly in its grasp whilst pawing at the claw around your throat in the hopes that it would get the message. 

“Magos, release your hold. They cannot speak if you’re obstructing their airway,” comes a low voice from somewhere to your right, rumbling through the air at a frequency you register as strange, to say the least. The words aren’t shouted, but they carry the same weight as though they were. 

You’re immediately and unceremoniously dropped by the “Magos’” and allowed to crumple to the ground with a dull thud. 

Sputtering and coughing as you desperately suck in some much needed oxygen, you’re finally able to turn your gaze to the man who’d probably just saved your life, for now anyway…

...

‘What. The. Fuck.’

The sight that greets you is not one, not two, but three, absolute behemoths, all in armor so bulky you struggle to wrap your head around the idea that it can move at all, staring straight through you.

'Is literally everyone here some kind of fucked up weirdo?'

They stand in a triangular formation, two flanking the one taking point, who you can only assume must be the one who spoke. The rear guard both sport guns that look to be the size of your torso, trained directly on you. 

“Now that you’ve caught your breath, identify yourself,” says the central figure, his voice rolling over you like thunder rolls over a storm. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, a familiar tingle running up your spine. 

'He’s human, for sure,' you think to yourself, 'But only in the sense that I am too.'

Between still ragged gasps, you manage to spit out your name. You decide to give both your real one and your alias, sensing that now is not the time to play coy.

The man repeats your name back at you, testing the syllables on his tongue. It doesn’t look like he likes them. “I’ve never heard such a name, nor of the title ‘Huntsman’ on any of the worlds nearby. Where do you come from,” he asks you.

‘Worlds nearby…?’  That doesn’t bode well for any hopes of an easy road home.

“Uhhh, Earth,” you squeak, though it sounds more like a question than you’d like. 

“‘Earth?’ Do you mean Terra? That's nonsense, there is no–” he begins to respond in a vaguely irate tone. 

And you panic. 

You’re tired and confused and in so much pain. And the idea that this man might just kill you over a misunderstanding eats away at whatever remaining self control you had. 

So while cutting him off probably isn’t the greatest move, that’s exactly what you do. “Not your earth! At least, I don’t think it is,” you say, tripping over some of the syllables in your haste.

It’s a safe bet. Nothing around you looks familiar. They’re calling Earth(?) ‘Terra.’ Whether or not it's even tangentially the same world doesn’t really matter to you right now. Right now, you just need them to hear you out. To understand that whatever trespass you’ve committed was an accident and that you would also prefer you weren’t here right now. 

“I-I…,” you stop and close your eyes, forcing yourself to take a couple deep breaths to try and steady yourself. He hasn’t ordered his men to shoot and he seems to be waiting for you to continue; and for now that’s enough for you to draw courage from.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, man. I don’t know how I got here either. At least, not in a quantifiable way…,” another breath, “I was in the vicinity of a misfire of a prototype teleportation device,” You decide to keep the true extent of your ignorance to yourself. These men don’t seem like the type to take kindly to it. For now, you just had to settle on what seemed most likely and sell it. “The thing was wildly unstable, and based on the fact that absolutely nothing I have seen in the last few minutes is even vaguely familiar to me, I’m pretty sure that space is probably not the only thing that machine moved me through.”

“Expound.” Still not dead, that’s encouraging.

“Well–Uh, You said that you hadn’t heard of me ‘on any of the worlds nearby,’ right? That implies regular space travel. And well, I know for damn sure that humans are not space-faring where I’m from! At least, not like this,” you give a vague gesture to your surroundings, “So, if I know that shouldn’t be possible where I’m from, but the abject reality before me says it is, I feel like it’s a perfectly fair assumption to say that I must then not be in the same time as I was previously. I mean, space and time are inherently enmeshed with one another, right? So, it’s really not that hard to imagine that a faulty spacial teleporter might invite temporal displacement as well...” You’re out of breath again by the time you’ve finished your nervous rambling.

The man just looks at you. They all do. The weight of their combined gaze makes you feel like an insect trapped beneath their thumb. 

You hate this. You miss your mask.

You never were any good at schooling your expressions. So you can only imagine what a pitiful, deer-in-the-headlights-esk look you must be giving them in return for their own utterly unphased, emotionless ones.

(Though, looking back on it later, you’ll come to appreciate that it was probably the guileless nature of your expression that actually saved you here.)

After a long pause, the man sighs and at least half of the tension previously present in the room dissipates. “So you’ve never heard of the Imperium of Man before, then?”

“The what of Man?”

[goldenivy0]

It's NOT that simple!

For every time I see a comment saying "I hope Lucien and Elain can be extremely happy together in the future, he deserves his HEA after everything he's been through and Elain too", I also see someone answering "What do you mean? He can have his HEA even if it's not with Elain, and Elain can also have her HEA with someone she chooses for herself" (you know who they're referring to with this lol).

Well... yes... but at the same time not really?? To what extent would that be a true HEA for the two of them? Elucien's situation and E/riel's situation are two completely different things. Rejecting a mating bond with your fated mate is something completely different than ending a situationship (yes, that's what E/riel have at the moment, a situationship... and a shaky one may I add).

In SJM's world, finding your mate is the peak of fulfillment when it comes to your romantic life, she believes in soulmates and the fated mates trope is a focal point in all her works.

What I take from this: finding your mate is a blessing and having a mating bond with someone makes you have such a deep connection with that person that any other romantic relationship you might have with another (even if it's a whole marriage!) is insignificant in comparison. So yeah... imo this just further proves this notion that there's nothing greater than a mating bond in SJM's universe. Having a mating bond with someone and experiencing it with that person is the happiest of HEA there can be, according to text SJM wrote herself.

Why would you want Elain to experience just a standard HEA (with Az or anyone else) when she can have the happiest of HEA with her mate (who is a great guy btw, so don't try to compare their case with Tamlin's parents or Rhys's parents cause that's bs)? And the same applies to Lucien and Azriel. Don't tell me "Oh BuT ElAiN sAid ShE DiDn'T WaNt a MaTe" cause my dear friend, right after that Elain also said she didn't want a male and Azriel is a male. A male she was willing to kiss and whom you claim she's in love with. So I just wonder, if she apparently changed her mind about that, who are we to say that she didn't or can't also change her mind about not wanting a mate?

You're telling me that Elain shares a mating bond with Lucien but she will simply ignore that to be in a relationship with Azriel without ever asking herself "what if"? "What if I had given me and my mate a chance?". Azriel will never ask himself "what if I find my mate one day"?? You're telling me that SJM will write a book where Elain is SO in love with Azriel that she won't even look at Lucien with whom she has such a deep connection that's unlike any other?

When we compare Lucien and Azriel's situations individually, they are NOT the same. For Lucien, if Elain rejects the bond, that's permanent! There will never be someone better for him than Elain, his mate. There will never be a greater connection for him with anyone else than the one he lost with this rejection. For Azriel, if Elain ends things with him, there's still a chance he'll find his mate (people speculate he already did but that's for another day), there's still a chance he'll find this person with whom he will share a connection so deep that it makes whatever he felt for Elain seem insignificant (canon lol).

When it comes to Elucien, it's a whole mating bond that's at stake, a pull that they will both feel for the rest of eternity even if rejected, and that's why so many people wish things to go well between them, that's why people want them to find their HEA together. Just like @olenvasynyt once said, let's not treat Elucien's situation as if they were part of some tinder blind date that went sour. PLEEEASE 🙏🏼

[odditycircus-2002]

Medusa!Reader and Shang Tsung MK 1 (Part 2)

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SPOILER ALERT FOR MK 1 STORY MODE

Shang Tsung and Syzoth rushed to rinse the elixirs and glass off your body. This was made difficult by how you continued to writhe around, blinded and sensitive to the point that running water felt like glass being rubbed against you. Eventually, your voice would become hoarse and bloody from your screaming, and then, finally and mercifully, exhaustion would take over. You were unaware of the claw marks you left on Shang and Syzoth in your blind panic.

You slept for the entire night and most of the next day. When you woke again, you were met with darkness and the feeling of something covering your body. You figured Shang must've bandaged you.

The Sorcerer confirms this and informs you that he's putting you on bed rest for the next few days, given the extensive damage that accident caused your body's nerves and muscles. While you may lose sight, he assured you it shouldn't be likely that it's permanent, much to your relief.

Shang Tsung was the one who primarily cared for your health. This included tending and disinfecting your wounds, changing your bandages, gently bathing you, having you drink a strong-smelling elixir to supposedly speed up the healing process daily, and even helping you relearn to use your muscles. Sometimes Syzoth would assist and talk with you, but these visits would often be cut short as Shang Tsung insisted that you needed rest.

Fortunately, you had Mileena and Kitana from time to time. You weren't surprised to hear from the sisters that Sindel couldn't come in person but sent condolences and flowers from the Hanging Gardens. This made you feel a little better, at least. It was better than the constant smell of disinfecting elixirs. However, your little ember of morale was smothered out when Shang took the bandages off you, Syzoth ready nearby with a mirror.

You were blinded by the light after days of nothing but darkness. When your eyes adjusted, you immediately gasped at the figure before you. Her skin was reddened and marred with rough patches that were a completely different color from the rest of her. She had no hair but a head full of hissing and writhing snakes with long fangs jutting from her mouth. Her eyes were snake-like with slit pupils that blinked with a second eyelid. As you touched yourself simultaneously as the stranger before you, you realized that the creature before you was… you!

"By the Elder Gods! What's happened to me?!"

You screamed before hiding your face in your hands with long claws at the ends before starting to weep. Shang Tsung attempted to comfort you as he held you close and petted your head, assuring you he didn't care what your form looked like. He knows it's still you. You both remained like that until you fell asleep from exhaustion.

For the next few days, you remained held up in your room to obsessively look in your mirror to try and imagine what you used to look like. You took up wearing a mask you purchased from the last festival you went to to retain some sense of your old beauty. You didn't allow Shang Tsung, Syzoth, or anyone to look at your face, refusing to look any of them in the eye. Yet, during those days, you had time to think without Shang whispering in your ear.

It's unbelievable to think that while you confronted Shang about the floor beneath, you'd happen to have your "accident" right in the middle of it. And how chivalrous the man you've been suspicious of would also nurse you back to health. You concluded that it couldn't be a coincidence; Shang Tsung purposefully caused your accident. Yet, seeing how your last confrontation with him alone went, you weren't going to approach him with your accusations immediately. For all you knew, you were infected with a new form of Tarkat.

It wouldn't stop you from doing your damn job, though. So you gathered the essentials, your belongings, and as many medical supplies as you could carry before slipping from the laboratory in the dead of night to head toward the nearby Tarkatan colony. Unbeknownst to you, Syzoth saw you leave but said nothing to Shang Tsung, silently wishing you well.

When you arrived, the colony appeared to be in better condition the last you looked at it. It isn't much, but it wasn't precisely the chaotic cesspool you remember. As you were "escorted" by other Tarkatans, you soon learned that the credit for the Colony's improvement goes to former tribune and merchant Baraka. Who now led the Tarkat Colony.

At first, the Tarkatan was wary when you claimed to have come out here on order from the Royal family, even when you presented the scroll stamped with the Royal House's seal that proves this claim true. At least, until you showed an ungloved arm with spikes forming where they shouldn't. You understood his paranoia and explained that you and your research partner, Shang Tsung, had a laboratory nearby to study Tarkat; however, you left to continue your research here because of your current affliction and possible infection. As a show of good faith, you present the supplies you took from the lab and offer to share them with the rest of the colony.

Baraka allowed you to stay within the camp and continue your work for a cure as long as you did your part within the colony. You accepted and soon set up shop within one makeshift adobe house. Wasting no time, you got to work. You soon set up a system to divide the work between you and any other Healers or anyone with extensive medical knowledge who can treat the sick as best as possible.

Often, you have to patch some of them up when bloodlust overtakes their minds, and others have to hold them down. Some days, you're mostly trying to find ways to ration the remaining medical supplies and treat your patients' symptoms. You even went as far as to set up regimens to help soothe the Tarkatans and keep morale up.

For months, you worked with Baraka to improve the colony's life to the best of your abilities. Eventually, because of this and your role as an Imperial Healer, you unofficially began to become a second figure of authority among the Tarkatans. It helped that you didn't take bullshit from any of your patients, no matter how difficult they can be(i.e., how strong and bloodthirsty they can be). Thanks to your mutations, you can match the strength of most of your patients. You're not above wrestling them into submission to take their medicine, including Baraka. Fortunately, you rarely had to with Baraka.

In fact, you and Baraka would come to appreciate each other because you can rely on each other for support. Especially since neither of you has anyone else to do so for the positions you found yourselves in. In fact, other colony residents couldn't help but notice the fondness and affection you both began to show one another as moons passed by.

You often could be seen conversing with Baraka, whether or not you are busy with your healing duties. Baraka usually would choose to share meals with you. You constantly check on each other's well-being. Once, Baraka gifted you a piece of jewelry from his merchant days that you now continuously wear. Anyone with eyes could see the herculean task for you to not instantly tackle hug Baraka.

Yet, an unspoken agreement prevented either of you from furthering your relationship. Baraka knew deep within his soul that he was fated to die from his illness long before you or anyone else could find a cure. He only wished to spare you the heartache of loving a dead man walking. You, on the other hand, were reluctant to love again.

You had seen each other at your lowest points. You when Baraka has a rare bout of feral bloodthirst that led you to have to sedate him with a crap ton of tranquilizers with a few minor wounds gained. He was there to just sit by you when you had to euthanize a Tarkatan that eventually lost its mind and asked before being put down when that happened. No one saw you leaving your adobe the next day except for Baraka.

That day, Baraka learned the true nature of your affliction as he caught you looking at your mirror without your mask. You were observing how your mutation was advancing when Baraka caught you, and you spun around in surprise before making direct eye contact with him. Baraka's face became frozen in surprise as he instantly turned into stone on the spot.

It took you hours before you could make a powder to reverse the petrification. You didn't know whether or not Baraka heard you, but that didn't stop you from fervently apologizing to him as you swiftly worked.

When Baraka was unstoned, he immediately asked about the exact nature of your condition. Which is when you gave the whole story about how this happened to you and how you confronted Shang Tsung before your accident occurred. You went as far as to show him your body without as much covering to demonstrate the full extent of your condition, including your newly grown wings.

"I never asked to become this! An- and- and yet, he took my body away from me."

That's when you collapsed to your knees and started to weep. The Tarkatan leader could only sit close to you as he spoke calming words. To your surprise, Baraka didn't kick you out of the colony after turning him to stone. In fact, he vowed to keep your true form a secret even from the colony. You were left speechless by his proclamation. This incident didn't cause him to treat you any differently than before.

However, given what you told him, Baraka was immediately on the defense when Shang Tsung came to the colony with an escort of armed Imperial soldiers more than he usually would be. Baraka doesn't trust Shang Tsung because his presence resembles a bad omen. A few Tarkatans seemed to "disappear" whenever he came by to gather genetic samples from his colony. However, Shang wasn't just here for blood or skin samples this time. No, this time, he was here for bone marrow, and it seemed he had his eye on Baraka in particular.

You were attending to some unfortunately afflicted tarkatan children when you were aroused from your workshop from Baraka's howling in pain. You immediately spot him forced to kneel in front of the man you've been hiding from for months, Shang Tsung. He also brought imperial soldiers, including some that held back the crowds of enraged Tarkatans. Despite the brief fear that gripped you, you were spurned into action when turning your attention to Baraka. You went down to confront the Sorcerer, demanding he release Baraka.

A/N: Sorry again folks that I have to cut it short, but I went over the word limit again. But I do hope you enjoyed this latest installment. Let me know about what y'all think about it and any ideas you have. Stay Weird, my fellow humans.

Taglist: @alastorhazbin, @slowlyfriedkingdom, @blackbunnymayw, @waryvoid, @redviper321, @lesbian-bambi, @evelud, @solareclipse166, @otako5811, @painimpact, @small-tophat-man, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @the-strange-unknown, @gname4, @aliceangel200981, @yaboicayde, @dumbhxeredrose, @tmoney-gay, @snowwhiteabyss, @geeky-trash01, @0000-lover-girl, @helixatomiclaws1799, @livia25leelover, @sarapaprikas-blog, @he-burnt-my-shake, @possibly-gleeful, @pikachupepito2, @miasubzero14, @keenduckzombie, @blackrose-2019, @nobod987, @antichristsbaby, @ariel2897, @iivenussleeping, @bloody546, @amara555555, @ya-sillydilly, @calviyv, @momoko-world, @ihatebitterthings, @sillypissyfroggy, @kpopobsessedellie-blog, @wickedspeak, @helloweebsofgenshin, @technonecromancerderaxus, @undertale-anomaly20, @khaotic-kris, @lonelycupcakelol, @duchessdaisybat, @generousrunawaystranger, @hufflepuff-ef, @ciphershadow, @night-stitch, @eclipsybunnyblogs, @ashleyinky, @corpse-nymph, @a-tiny-frog-with-a-hat, @porfiriea, @greciacat, @bobawitch13, @0000-lover-girl,@undertale-anomaly20, @illyannaaaa, @tired-ninfa, @rayneofthedead96, @queergeologist, @laxbloodstone

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! I wanted to make a character who wears an eyepatch, but I don't know how to make it, exactly? And I thought you may know

I've read that the most common reasons to wear eyepatches are generally temporary, wich it's not what I wanted. I thought maybe he was really sensitive to light in one eye and chose to wear an eyepatch rather than sunglasses, but I've also read that may deteriorate the vision in that eye? (Maybe he's blind in that eye too and he's not worried about it?)

If not that I've read that they are used to hide a missing eye, a lazy eye or something else, but that it was more used in the past bc medicine wasn't as good, and nowadays most of that can be changed with surgery or a prosthetic eye, wich... I don't know why he wouldn't have?

Also, all of this was found via google, and I couldn't find any first-person experience (?) Like - I've found a lot of youtube videos, reddit forums and tumblr users from blind people to ask and learn about my other blind characters, but I couldn't for this? Maybe they're not really used anymore??

I'm not sure if you know but I had to ask - Maybe you know of somewhere I could read more about it?

(Also sorry fot any mistakes or confusing wording, english isn't my first language)

Hey! Your ask is very clear, don't worry.

Eyepatches can be used long-term to treat amblyopia, help someone who has unilateral photophobia, or be used by those who have double vision to help with visual tasks (I do that with my "DIY eyepatch", aka closing the one eye I have actual eyelid control over). Photophobia could be a result of a bunch of things, my bilateral one happened as a side effect of nerve surgery. There are too many ocular conditions to list, probably. Permanent double vision is usually caused by brain or nerve damage, like in my case, or an autoimmune condition like myasthenia gravis. With that said, eyepatches among all of the above are still a rarity. For all the time I spent in eye clinics since I was a baby, I have never personally met anyone who would wear one permanently into adulthood - many wore it only as children, or only around the time of surgery (like I also did), etc. Modern medicine simply has better options.

They are rarely used for missing eyes as well, other solutions (prosthetic eyes, conformers) are more common. An empty eye socket isn't ideal a lot of the time.

It's rather hard to find first-person resources for eyepatch usage because it's simply rare. I looked through some of our resources and while we had multiple for prosthetic eyes or similar, nothing for eyepatches, so I can't help with that, unfortunately.

Important thing about eyepatches is that they're not used 24/7. People take them off sometimes. Depending on why he uses it, you might be interested in this (if he's blind) or this (if he has a facial difference) post. Also think of the reason he wears it outside of just the eyepatch; does he need medication, eye drops, does he get headaches, etc.? Remember that it shouldn't just be an aesthetic, and it should cause other symptoms too.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[pronounmelon]

How Leasebound suffers under the ablebodied gaze

Hiiiii I’m on my bullshit again 😘❤️

today we are going to talk about how Leasebound’s disability rep is kind of mid

we all know how I feel about the special ed teacher panel

and BONUS: this is Sunny’s insert. Sunny has never worked with disabled kids. RUSTY has never worked with disabled kids, and neither are disabled to my knowledge. I am disabled AND have worked with disabled kids. I still think that panel is complete bullshit, with the lack of knowledge on the topic showing through in the implication that there is ever an instance outside of imminent harm to yourself or others that you need to restrain a disabled child even if my old post may have admittedly overreacted. There is not. There is never an instance outside of imminent harm to yourself or others. If your special education facility has told you that restraint is an option at all when a kid hugs you too long, get a new fucking job 😭 the next alternative to a “let me go” or a collapse or drop move you weren’t taught somehow is never to “hm. If I don’t go to self defense training my only other option is to restrain them”

anyway to the guys I wanna talk about here

now let’s list off disabled characters

Shanzay (it’s not spelled Shanzey in any language Rusty should probably correct that)

Rocky

Uhhhhhhh

Ginger is most definitely disabled given the knee injury but that was most definitely added to give her a stereotypical middle aged “man” backstory of wanting to play professional football and then getting injured and it doesn’t even really come up on panel. Plus the trans women in the comic are. Well. We all know 😭😭

and I am of the personal opinion that Brick has some form of dwarfism or potentially Down syndrome due to how Rusty draws them (height, proportions, and facial features) but this was not done intentionally by Rusty and seems to have mostly been an attempt to make them look “clownish” which is a whole other set of issues. Like I thought Parniya was supposed to teach your grown adult fanbase not to make fun of people for their height or weight but your commentors say otherwise when it comes to Brick sooooo

anyway the only ones I can definitively say are disabled are Shanzay and Rocky

so so far the only 2 characters who are definitively disabled both got it from some big showey traumatic event, not looking good so far seeing as that’s a pretty common stereotype…

Shanzay has partial blindness, seemingly caused by blunt force trauma

Now I can’t believe I have to say this but…

regardless of how you are drawing this REALLY does not communicate a blunt force eye injury

fun fact: I’m not going to show a picture because HOLY SHIT the pictures are horrible but a healed blunt force eye injury (one that WOULD cause permanent full blindness in the eye) usually includes

partially or fully detached retina

reddish sclera for obvious reasons, it gets better overtime but it rarely fully goes away

usually rather than a perfectly vertical scar with stitches there is a bruise or a scar that isn’t. Yk. Perfectly vertical over the whole eye. Often a scar would be something like a deeper one over the eyelid, or uneven tiny scar bits around the eye. While we don’t see what Chris does to Shanzay exactly, if he hit her with what he had at the moment (his fist), she more than likely got a hugeass bruise with no permanent scar outside the eye, maybe a tear in the eyelid itself if we give Chris the disbenefit of the doubt that his single fist is that strong, or that he got multiple hits in. I mean he sells drugs or whatever so maybe??? I’m gonna be for real I doubt this guy’s mary sue ass strength he looks under half my dad’s weight

Bonus that shit is probably HORRIFIC if the injury wasn’t super bad then because it doesn’t seem like she was taken to the doctors

Better ways to stylize this sort of injury on Shez:

partially detached retina, rough healing

Retina removed surgically due to extreme injury or infection after injury, probably healed better due to medical intervention. Would likely wear an eye cap or glass eye cover to protect the eye

Traumatic cataract (what I think Rusty was going for??). Despite all the models you’ve probably seen or whatever the fuck a traumatic cataract is rarely completely perfect over the eye, and often the original eye color is slightly visible underneath. I specifically made this one partial, giving an easily stylizable but accurate look.

“why is this a problem?? Other media does this all the time”

yeah and I kinda hate it 😭😭 it’s one thing if all your characters have dot eyes, like just put an x there BOOM eye disability communicated. Also, Shez is never shown to have the same or similar disability needs to most people who are partially blind or blind in one eye. The large majority of people with full blindness in one eye cannot drive very easily, first of all. One, in most countries you need to pass a medical test. Also, if Shez’s injury is in fact a traumatic cataract, driving is either an incredibly difficult/stressful task, or just straight up unsafe, seeing as the areas of an eye a cataract falls over only allow for very limited vision.

Like bestie you CANNOT be looking back at Jaden like that regardless of potentially training yourself to drive?? Which even then you’re apparently driving at 3am or so??? It’s DARK AS HELL at 3am fuck off there’s no way

now I’m not partially blind or blind myself so people can absolutely correct me on this (blind people, not people with a totally super real blind cousin or something, I’m not centering ablebodied people here)

Shez seemingly has no trauma from her injury specifically. Only her mother is affected by it. Honestly that’s a lot of the Chris plot line; Shez only wants to save the people around her and that’s apparently good cause “power fantasy” like??? I thought this was supposed to be a comic about realistic women experiences or whatever the fuck.

Oh yeah and why is this panel kind of implying that Shez got her injury on the job when she got it from Chris 😭😭 I guess the rest fits but “this is a rough job” with the weird closeup of her eye 😭😭 bitch what does that MEAN Chris did not injure you at Yonique

okay next one

I have BEEF with this woman ‼️‼️‼️

Whoever decided they weren’t gonna at least teach Rocky sign language is a fucking idiot. Why is she communicating with the same *nod* *nod* she did when her muteness was new at 22 years old. Someone teach Rocky sign language!! ”you can’t expect rusty to learn accurate sign language just for Rocky” then I can’t expect her to respectfully write a mute character without falling into dumbass stereotypes

I do understand why Rocky wouldn’t have an AAC device… I mean, this is 5 (now 6 with Parniya!!) people living in one tiny living space in a city that has a huge classism problem, it’d be very difficult to get their hands on something like that. But. A text to speech tablet?? Like just an iPad?? Maybe??? There’s also AAC-like apps for both Samsung and Android. Rusty invents shit that doesn’t exist all the time!! (Like a plain white simultaneously loose and tight around the boobs turtleneck with plain black text that says yaoi. Looking at Kai) she could just invent an AAC app for Rocky to use that functions exactly like the expensive ones but free and on a standard off brand tablet!! PLEASE it’s giving Teardrop bfb but worse than that because Teardrop was 1. Originally written by children on YouTube 2. Eventually DID get means of autonomy and communication and most people understand and respect her. Rocky only gets nods. How is she getting a job with nods??? Interviews are unfortunately way more complicated than yes or no questions.

now my final issue, applying to both Rocky and Shanzay, which I briefly hinted to earlier

Their disabilities are BOTH from big life altering injuries or PTSD. Which can happen!! That’s fine, but it’s also the most stereotypical form of these disabilities. It’s the one in media most palatable to ablebodied people. Like the little disabled representation coming in the form of wheelchair users who cannot walk at all (often paralysis) or supergeniuses if it’s caused by anything else, or people who so tragically lost an arm, or an eye, or their hearing, or sight in a war, or a fight, or whatever, a mute person who does not communicate in any of the numerous ways that mute people do because the ablebodied writer does not believe they can. Like, you know that dialects of sign language have formed for mute or deaf kids from observation, right?? Even if Meriam didn’t teach her fucking kid to sign or get her in a learning environment where she could learn to, Rocky most definitely knows more than nod and shake, ESPECIALLY as a mute adult.

all the disabled characters are written in the most palatable way they can be to an ablebodied audience, by an ablebodied writer.

Easy fix: GET SENSITIVITY READERS OR DO PROPER RESEARCH BEFORE WRITING SOMETHING YOUVE NEVER TOUCHED JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

[khaire-traveler]

Yogi Update: This is the update I've been waiting for. We saw the eye doctor today, and he is, in fact, completely blind in his right eye. His is alive and ok, but his glaucoma eye is definitely causing him a lot of pain. The medications he's currently on help a lot but do not get rid of it completely. The vet believes it's likely permanent but can be attempted to be fixed through surgery, but I don't think it's worth it, since it's $4,500 USD for something that may not even work; I certainly do not have that kind of money. Another option was to try to massage his eye in an attempt to correct the eye's issue, but that's also not a guarantee and would be $400-$500 USD. Ultimately, eye removal sounds like the best option, but thankfully, it's not required asap. For now, the vet has us giving him a higher dosage of his medications to minimize discomfort. The eye removal at that location would be $3,300 USD which is pretty ridiculous for one eye, from the estimates I've seen online, so I'll be looking around for my options. I haven't raised nearly enough money to afford a $3,300 USD surgery. That's more money than I even have in my bank account right now. Yogi's medications are guaranteed to not be enough to help the pain in the long-term, so I hope it lasts for as long as it can, at least long enough for me to save and gather enough for surgery.

Looks like the fundraiser will be continuing. For those uninterested in the fundraiser, you can block the tags "donations" or "fundraiser", and you won't see it when I reblog it (which I am trying to do every morning and night).

-

Link to my fundraiser; I'm offering things in return for donations

[futuremercifulnerd]

Before and after what the ocean did to my hair today lol

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Quiet Crushes

Summary: Joel Miller x Fe!Reader ~ You have always been nervous around Joel Miller. Ever since he came to town it's like you're a teenager again with a crush on the hottest guy in school. But, when someone unexpected turns up, it seems that even Joel has found the courage to talk to you.

Disclaimer: I haven't written in a while so there may be some spelling mistakes (I'm gonna blame the lack of sleep). Fluff, angst, idiots in love, speechless around crushes, kissing.

You didn’t know how long it had been since you’d last slept. 12 hours? 24? None of it mattered. All you could focus on was your brother, lay on the bed in your spare room, breathing up and down, freshly cleaned and slowly healing physically. 

Joel was downstairs in the kitchen cooking something. 

You’d heard the pans clatter every couple of minutes until you heard the mugs and the plates. But you couldn’t concentrate on that. Your gaze and mind remained focused on your brother’s chest, watching it rise and fall; fearful that if you looked away, even if just for a second, he would stop and he’d be gone from you and this world permanently. 

You’d not seen him in almost four years and in that time you’d somehow convinced yourself he’d died. That a clicker or worse had got to him and killed him. He’d been dead to you for just over three years. But despite this, part of you still held hope. 

That was the only part of you that was happy. 

It was proved right. Your brother was alive…to an extent. 

Lord knows what he saw and what he went through to find you. You didn’t even want to imagine. Your mind had been so focused on getting him cleaned up, you couldn’t bring yourself to step over the line and ask the questions about his scars. 

He’d tell you in his own time, you hoped. 

The moment you saw him walk through the doors of Jackson…you felt your heart both drop and soar at the same time. He was like a drowned-rat in the rain. Both of you were by the time you left Joel’s side from the covered porch of the Tipsy Bison to run out to the muddied path in the rain and embrace your brother. 

The mud on your jeans proved to you that you’d been there to hold him in the mud when you both collapsed from the sheer impact of the hug. 

You vaguely remembered Joel telling you to get a shower…but you couldn’t remember how long ago that was. The moment they carried your brother into his room, you hadn’t so much as left his side, let alone the room. 

You patched up his wounds whilst he slept and woke him part way through so he’d finally eat something and get his strength up. 

It was only as you sat alone in the silence of your sleeping brother that you let your mind go back to the moments just before he’d come through the gates. 

You’d been talking to Joel or, at least, trying. 

Ever since Joel arrived in Jackson, your crush on him had been a burden to bear.

You never liked having crushes; they either lead to embarrassment or pain. Neither sounded appealing. 

And, so, for the first eight months, any conversation you had with him never extended past three words a day, if that. You’d remain quiet and get your work done. 

It was only after these eight months that Tommy came to you, asking you to actually try and talk to Joel. You were only one of the few that didn’t. Whilst the others seemed to have something against Joel, Tommy seemed to be blind to the fact that you actually had something for Joel. 

But Maria wasn’t. 

She saw it instantly. 

The way the blood rushed to your face. The way your breathing became unsteady and you couldn’t seem to form a single sentence in his presence. 

You liked Joel…a lot. 

As did many other women in Jackson. 

And men.

But still, no matter how hard you tried, you were just a bumbling mess around Joel. 

After Tommy’s talk, you’d been fixing a lightbulb in the Tipsy Byson when the bulb shone too bright, shocking you and causing the ladder to rattle beneath you. 

However, it stopped falling when Joel caught it, and you. 

His hands were on your waist. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” you eventually managed to answer as you climbed down. 

You could only be thankful that your back was to Joel but the instant you turned around, you were met with his gaze and any human function you had in your body seemed to instantly disappear. After a couple of attempts, you managed to make your “Thank you,” loud enough for the human ear to hear before running off. 

It seemed to only get worse after that. 

And already being aware that you were a blushing mess when you even thought about him only added to that. Feeling the heat of your cheeks, and being all too aware of it when faced with Joel Miller only increased your embarrassment. 

There were some moments where you thought he was flirting with you but your conscience quickly brushed that aside. After all, why would Joel Miller be interested in you when most of Jackson was after him?

And that evening, everything felt like it was coming to a head. You were so sure Joel knew about your feelings towards him, despite the fact you wanted to forget about them. Why else would he ask you to go outside with him? You figured he’d let you down gently at least. Tell you he wasn’t interested but he’d be sure you were a lovely woman.

Instead, he’d stepped closer to you. 

If it had been anyone else, maybe you would have backed away. But not with Joel. 

He wasn’t threatening to you in his gaze or his touch but rather gentle, soft and kind. Despite all what you had heard about him, you’d never seen him be anything but kind and caring to those around him. A vastly different version that Tommy had been expecting, that’s for sure. 

You couldn’t even remember what Joel had said to you. 

One minute your mind was growing dizzy with the simple thought of him. The next, you’d flicked your eyes away for a moment only to see a lad run at full speed past the bar and towards the gates. 

Both you and Joel’s gaze followed the lad and when you saw your brother…Joel saw the change in you. 

Most times, you were flustered. Running here, there and everywhere. Hell, you rarely seemed to have time to have a conversation with him before you were dashing off to somewhere else. 

Since he started working with Tommy again, he wanted to know more about you. 

You seemed to keep to yourself, mostly. Tommy said you were trustworthy and the one to go to whenever or if ever he had a problem whether that be with a light fixture, plumbing, cooking or even just with life. 

That day you’d nearly fallen from the ladder, he’d hoped to have a drink with you - talk to you. Get to know you. 

He’d tried for weeks after that, but again, always flustered. Part of him figured that perhaps, maybe, you felt the same way about him as he did about you. 

So, that night at the Tipsy Byson, he was hoping to ask you. 

But then you looked away and suddenly everything about you became…cool. 

You were no longer a “flustered mess” as he’d heard someone call you in the bar one night. You no longer had that light dusting blush across your cheeks that seemed to brighten every time he got closer which made his stomach summersault. 

No, instead, you became more reserved. 

You stood straight and had your arms folded. Your eyes narrowed to look at the face of the weakened man in the middle of the two brother’s helping carry him inside the walls of Jackson. 

Joel had called your name and asked you a question but he knew none of it had registered. But you had managed to answer his next question without him having to ask it. 

“That’s my brother.”

Without a second thought or care to the rain, you left the shelter of the porch and walked out and once you were close enough, you called your brother’s name and Joel watched you run to your brother, and him run to you. 

He watched the pair of you reunite before dropping to the mud beneath you both. You pulled back for a second to look your brother over before pulling him close again and holding the back of his head. 

Joel had told you to go for a shower when your brother got settled but since he didn’t hear the shower turn on, he decided to cook. You hadn’t eaten since before you got to the bar and, despite your brother needing nourishment, you’d be in need of it, too. 

“Hey,”

You turned to look at Joel who was standing in the doorway. 

“Hey.”

“Here. I made you some stew.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“There’s more in the pot in the kitchen but, I’ve got to go and get Ellie. I’ll be back later, though.”

“Thank you, Joel. But, honestly, you don’t have to.”

“If I don’t, I have a feeling you’ll sit here all day and watch him and forget to look after yourself.”

“Joel-”

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

As Joel gave you a warm smile and left you with a bowl of fresh stew, you heard your brother’s voice. 

“Well, he’s nice. When’s the wedding?”

You put down the stew and rushed to his side. “You’re awake.”

“And you’re in love.”

“Randy.”

“Y/n.”

“He’s just a friend.”

“Well, I don’t know what you’ve been doing for the last four years, but that is definitely not the look of friendship and don’t give me any of that bullshit about how he doesn’t like you. He’s in love with you.”

“Now who’s the one with the bullshit.”

“Hey, don’t forget, I have the luxury of the male perspective. He’s in love with you, kid.”

“Did you get a concussion on your way here?”

“Maybe a few. But I’m still right. And so is he. You need to eat. And stop watching me sleep. It’s both weird and creepy. It’s like when you were six and would sleep walk into my room and watch me sleep.”

“I did not do that.”

“You totally did. Do you not remember mom had to start locking my door at night so you couldn’t get in?”

“Oh, yeah.” you smiled at the weird memory.

“Go on, eat. And then go and get me a bowl. It smells good.”

“Taste’s good, too.” you said, trying not to burn your mouth on a hot piece of carrot. 

God, if that man didn’t make you fall from his looks and charm alone, his cooking tipped you over the edge. 

Hours passed and eventually Joel came back only to find you sat outside in the back garden. The window to your brother’s bedroom was open so you’d be able to hear him call if he needed you though you doubted it since he was a heavy sleeper and he would sleep all day and night if he could. 

“Hey, what are you doing out here?”

“Wanted to watch the rain fall.”

“Mind if I join you?”

You shook your head and smiled, “Not at all.”

Joel sat just close enough to you for you to feel his body heat as he covered his lap with a spare blanket you had on the bench. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I could sleep for a year.”

Joel mirrored your smile as you laughed and set your book down. “I just…for the longest time I thought he was gone. I’d made myself believe it and then suddenly he’s back and he’s alive and he’s…he’s here.”

“You look really happy.”

“I am really happy. How’s Ellie?”

“She’s good. She’s having a sleepover tonight with a couple friends she met at school. I’m just hoping she won’t be a bad influence on them.”

“I’m sure she won’t.” you assured him. “Besides, it might not hurt for those kids to learn a couple swear words here and there.”

“God, you sound just like her.”

“Oh, come on, Joel. You can’t tell me you weren’t swearing like a sailor when you were her age.”

“Growing up is a tough gig.”

“Amen to that. Why not be able to swear your way through the rough periods?”

Joel simply smiled at you and you smiled back before turning to watch the rain pour its way down and land on the country garden you’d managed to plant for yourself. 

What you didn’t notice, at first at least, was Joel’s gaze fixing itself on your side profile. He looked at you with such wonder and kindness and love, Randy - who watched from his bedroom window - wanted to throw a rock at you just so you might, in fact, look in Joel’s direction and see that your brother was right in saying that Joel was completely head-over-heels in love with you. 

And probably had been for the longest time. 

Though, rather than interfere and have you poison his stew with some random plant you’d been growing in your garden, probably plotting his death, he quietly closed his window and left you and Joel to it. 

But not before wishing upon the highest star he could see. 

“Please. Please, please, please, for the love of God, let these two idiots be together. I don’t know how much more of the lovey-dovey eyes I can take. And I’ve only been here for 24 hours. Thank you. Amen…and all that.”

You both sat for a while, in a quiet solitude. 

It was quaint. 

It was also the first time you’d held an audience with the man and not freaked out, tripped over your words or even blushed so hard you thought your blood vessels might, in fact, break or burst at any moment. 

“You know, when we were kids, we’d spend hours outside. He’d always be playing football and I’d be with my dad in the garden.”

“Was he the one that taught you about plants?”

You nodded with a soft smile graced on your lips. “Yeah. He was a Horticultural and Agricultural Professor. He knew everything that could ever be known about plants and what they helped with, also what they hindered with.”

“And your mom?”

“She worked in Business Management.” you said. “Randy took after her more. Was closer to her, too. I mean, we were all close. And I was close to my mom, but…you know that connection a child has with their parents. One is stronger than the other? When they’re ill or they get hurt, it’s the parent they go to?”

Joel nodded. 

“For him, that was my mom. For me, it was my dad. Randy spent more time at her office - mostly because he had a crush on her co-worker Annie. Meanwhile, I’d go to Dad’s lectures and tell Mom all about them and she and Randy would sit and listen for hours. I loved it.”

“So, is that what you did? Before the world went to shit and all?”

“The world has always been shit, but, yes. Though, I studied Biology instead. It gave me more places to find a job. And, for about two years I taught High School Science. I loved it but I always needed something else to keep me busy so I’d go to the library and pick out books and I taught myself to be my own mechanic. It was cheaper and easier than dealing with those who would ask if my husband would be coming with me to drop off my car and when my ‘husband’ didn’t turn up, would hit on me to the point where I once threatened to break their nose.”

“And did you? Break it, I mean?”

“Joel Miller. I only threatened to break his nose. I broke his wrist, instead.”

Joel smiled for a moment. “Did he not press charges?”

“Nope. Luckily his sister had just come round the corner and she was some fancy lawyer in New York. She threatened to break his other and then we went out to lunch. Turned out he had a history of broken bones.”

Joel laughed and you found yourself laughing, too. 

It felt freeing. 

“What about you? Tommy told me you had your own business.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I was a contractor in Texas.”

From there, you and Joel spent over two hours talking about the past and your lives before the Outbreak. Everything; from your childhood to his, you work and eventually, children. 

Joel hadn’t meant to bring Sarah up. Hell, he didn’t even talk about her with Tommy, or Tess for that matter. Sure, there was some mention of her here and there, but he’d never told anyone of her as a baby or of the silly things she used to do as a kid that would make him laugh and smile. 

“She sounds wonderful.” you smiled. 

Joel’s smile, although still with him, faded a little as he looked to his hands, rubbing his fingers against each other. 

“Yeah, she was.”

“It sounds like she would have liked Ellie, too.”

Part of Joel returned at the mention of Ellie from you. “Oh, completely. They’re not similar - I mean, Sarah was more…girly? But they’re also not unsimilar. She would have loved her.”

Neither you or Joel fully knew which daughter he meant when he said that; She would have loved her. Ellie? Ellie would have loved her. Sarah? Sarah would have loved her. Both? They would have loved each other. 

However, just as you both sat, looking at each other with sad yet content smiles, a light began to flicker on the porch and with a sigh, you got up. 

“This damn thing. I just changed the bulb yesterday.”

Within moments, you had your ladder and tool box out as well as a new bulb. 

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“Nope. I’ve got it.”

“Okay, but, be careful. It’s still a little slippy out here.”

Joel spoke the truth. Despite being the spot where they sat being completely dry, the other half of the porch was still somehow sprayed with water. 

Whilst you got to work trying to take the cover from the light, hammering the screwdriver end in with your hand until you heard the pop!, Joel had his foot on the bottom step of the ladder, watching you from below. 

Yet, somehow, you still managed to slip once you, after a very rare struggle, managed to get the cover from the bulb off. 

Maybe it was some twist of fate, but somehow you ended up in Joel’s arms. 

At first, your back remained to him. 

“You okay, Darlin’?”

For the first time since being sat with him, you found yourself speechless again. Flustered. 

“Oh, I, uh…mm-hmm.”

“You sure?”

Turning your head, you found Joel inches from you. Your bodies were pressed so tight, you’d be surprised if even a shadow could fit between you both. 

“Yes.”

Joel swallowed thickly as his gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips and back again. You could feel his warm palm spreading across your hip, his strong forearm flush against the bottom of your back, pulling you just that little bit closer to him. And when he spoke, you found your breath caught in your throat. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Your brain felt both electric and fried at the same time. Maybe you were just hallucinating; imagining he wanted to kiss you. 

But then his other hand came up and brushed the stray hairs from your face, tucking them behind your ear. 

“Because I’d really like to, Darlin’. But I won’t unless I have your permission.”

If that wasn’t enough to make a girl melt on the spot. 

At first, all you could do was nod. 

“I need words, Darlin’.”

Good, Lord!

Swallowing thickly, you forced your voice from your throat. “Y-Yes.”

“You don’t sound too sure.” Joel hesitated. 

“Yes, Joel. You can kiss me.”

Your voice, although still quiet, was more assertive that time. 

“Are you-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, Miller.”

You saw a split second of Joel’s smile grace his face before he pulled you closer to him and kissed your lips. 

And it. Was. Electric. 

Your hand came to his collar, pulling him closer to you although you both figured that was impossible by now. 

His thumb brushed the side of your temple before he pushed his hand through your hair and drank you in once more. Meanwhile, the arm that held you securely around your back, tensed. His hand came into a fist and it scrunched the corner of your jumper and t-shirt with it. 

You moved your hand to his neck, pulling him closer still until finally you both had to stop in order to catch your breath. 

Joel’s hand relaxed for a moment before you felt his palm touch your skin beneath your clothes. 

“Sorry,” he apologised after a moment, his voice husky. “Got carried away.”

You smiled and shook your head against his. “Don’t be.”

“Mind if I do it again?”

“Not at all.”

[evilfloralfoolery]

Love Bites: A Tale of Indulgent Preternatural Fuckery

I was going to wait until morning to post this, but fuck it. I make my own rules. Please enjoy some poncy ass fetish fuckery between 324 year old French vampire Lucian d'Alarie and his far more modern 82 year old, tattooed werewolf lover, Marrok Rafe.

Guess which one has "the thing."

*This story already has multiple parts that I may or not post. It depends on a few factors.

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“Lucian?? Lucian!! Where are you hiding??”

Somewhere from the other side of the ridiculous estate, his beloved is bellowing in a manner that would wake the dead.  Or, in Lucian’s case, the undead. 

- I am not hiding.  You are simply blinded by whatever rage has a hold upon you. -

He bursts through the door.  The balcony door.  From outside of it.  Marrok never did appreciate the simplicity and ease a door offered.

“Get out of my head.”  Marrok’s voice is a flat growl, a rumble far too low to be human.  

Because he is not.  

“And how else would you hear me, hmm?  With all of your grandiose nonsense.  Mon dieu, Marrok.  I realize that we have no neighbors, but–” 

“What. Happened.”  Again, not a question.  A demand of sorts.  

Lucian does not grant him an answer at his impatient behest.  Instead, he takes a moment to appreciate the feral being before him.  Lean and well-muscled with shoulders even broader than his own, skin bronzed from the sun, and adorned with a myriad of tattoos, Marrok looks every bit the part of the apex predator that he truly is. The topmost portion of his rather absurd length of jagged jet black hair is pulled tight by some manner of elastic, revealing the tips of his pointed ears and the shaved sides of his head beneath.

There was a time when Lucian found such a thing appalling.  But it suited Marrok on many levels.

“I am not certain.”  Lucian sinks down into one of the wingback chairs near the now flung-open balcony doors, just beyond the reach of the sun’s rays.  “I feel . . . strange.  Like a mortal does when nursing the beginnings of an illness.”

Marrok folds his arms with a disgruntled frown, the permanent artwork that resides there flexing with the movement.  “That doesn’t happen to your kind or mine.”

“Not necessarily.  We do not know everything, you and I.  Perhaps–”

“No.” Marrok cuts him off.  “It’s not fucking possible.” 

Lucian pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers with a wince.  Not only is his head pounding like a drum, but an incessant prickle also resides there.  The nuisance saw fit to surge to a burn at times, causing a far greater inconvenience, one that he rarely dealt with, unless too much sunlight were involved.

Which was not currently the issue at the moment.  However, that knowledge did little to placate the persistent tingling itch.  After several attempts at fending it off, Lucian resigns himself to his fate, tugging a handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers and making good use of it.

“HhhehISSSSHHIIU!” 

“ExcusehhhISSCH! ISSCHHuh!---hhhuuh . . . !  Hhhh . . .!”

Ungodly, wretched misery of a—

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and exhales a slow, steadying breath.  “Très désolée.  I . . . have not the control to manage this.” 

“This is bullshit!”  Marrok looks as if he would rather cast himself in the confines of the fountain from the third story balcony than exist in this current shared space. “You can't be–” he gestures with an exasperated flurry of fingers “--that!”

Lucian arches an eyebrow. “Unwell?”

“Don’t.” Marrok tears away the band holding the layers of his thick hair with a snap of elastic.

Sprigs of haphazard darkness jut from his scalp in an almost comical defiance and Lucian morphs a laugh into a cough on purpose. 

“This isn't funny, Lucian.” The words are more of a growl, rumbling and full of an intent to intimidate. 

If anything actually served to intimidate Lucian. 

“And yet, here we are.” 

“No, there you are. We are not doing this.”

“You speak as if I had some choice in the matter.” 

Marrok is two centimeters from his person in half as many seconds. “You did this to yourself. I don't know how you did it, but you did.” 

Lucian rises to his feet with an almost bored aire. “Accusational hysteria does not suit you, mon cher.” 

Clawed fingers snatch at the lapels of his shirt. “Don't patronize me, you French fuck.” 

“Is that what you desire, then?” Lucian slides his hands to cup the snarling visage between his palms. “Some French fuck?”

He casts the other “man” a smirk that  promises seduction, but not without a staggering dosage of smug upper handedness.  And clearly, Marrok isn't entertaining anything of the sort. 

“Get off me.” He gives Lucian a rough, but far lighter shove than anticipated. 

The werewolf stalks over to the ornate bookcase, scans several titles, and swears when he realizes whatever he desires is near the topmost part of it.  Not that this hinders him in any way.  Marrok simply jumps, snatches his preferred literature from its resting place, and rebounds off of the wall to land effortlessly back onto his feet.

“Whatever are you doing?”

“Research,” Marrok grunts.  

He flops down into the chair formerly occupied by Lucian and begins leafing through the text while Lucian has a seat upon the bed.

“Marrok.” Lucian gestures with one hand. “Come to me.” 

The werewolf doesn't look up from his reading. “No.” 

“S’il vous plaît, mon cher.  I am so very cold.”

Marrok turns a page. “You're dead. Comes with the territory.” 

“Do you not think that I am incapable of feeling a draft simply because I am no longer mortal?” 

“That’s right,” Marrok says.  “And you know that shit.” 

Well. One had ways of changing that type of attitude, especially with the omnipresent twinge dwelling deep within his sinuses. The simple act of breathing would be enough. Not that one such as Lucian needed the trappings of this rather human inconvenience, but even the undead still functioned in a similar fashion, needed or not. 

He allows his breathing to slow, for his breath to hitch, and makes a show of fumbling for his handkerchief as his expression dissolves into abject helplessness.

“Hhh-hiiih. . .! HiihhISSSSHU–ISSSCH! . . . HhIKGSSCH-UUH!”

He buries his nose in the crumpled fabric, shoulders shuddering, unbound hair curtaining his face.

The book snaps closed. Footsteps that are more of a marching stomp approach. 

“You did that on purpose.” 

Judging by how much of that sentence is coated in the most inhuman of growls, Marrok is more than merely ruffled. He is infuriated beyond measure. 

“I assure you that I did n–”

Marrok is atop him, pinning him to the mattress. 

“You did.”  The werewolf snarls against his mouth and fangs graze his lips. “But I'm fresh out of fucks.” 

“Mmm, are you?” Lucian reaches between his legs with a most uncouth clenching of fingers around Marrok’s most sensitive attributes. “What a shame that would be.” He snatches handfuls of the thin, black cotton shirt Marrok is so fond of and jerks him against his chest hard enough to elicit a grunt from his lover. “Je veux te baiser.” 

“Hope you don't like these pants.” Marrok's nails slash the well-stitched fabric to indecent ribbons before Lucian can answer.

“Such violence in you.” Lucian flashes him a hint of his own fangs, different from that of a werewolf, but equally as lethal. “It is a quality I find most captivating.” 

The dark yellow of Marrok’s eyes is near amber. “Stop talking.”

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(TBC or no?)

[idyllic-affections]

how do you think kavehs child obtain the vision? been thinking bout it and now its just like an itch on the back of my no existent brain-

how does [name] get their vision?

summary. kaveh's child is blessed with a hydro vision... or cursed, rather.

trigger & content warnings. referenced past trauma, depictions of a panic attack, etc.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. hurt/comfort. collei & reader, implied adoptive dad!kaveh & reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader. this post is an expansion of what if kaveh adopted a child? author's thoughts. OMG ANON thank you for giving me an excuse to ramble about this!! i have been thinking so hard about this ever since my last adoptive dad!kaveh post. anyway i try to avoid talking about fontaine too much, but it was inevitable in this post, so please remember that this was posted before fontaine's release. some details may not be lore-accurate because of that.

kaveh's beloved child, [name], recieves their vision in a very mundane way, but the feelings associated with the event are anything but.

it's in their early teen years, perhaps somewhere between twelve and fourteen, that their ambition reaches the point of being acknowledged by the gods above, resulting in them being blessed with a vision of their own. they aren't at kaveh and alhaitham's shared residence when it happens (they haven't had any reason to permanently move in with them yet, given the fact that they aren't old enough to enroll in the akademiya yet), nor are they at gandharva ville.

in fact...

they're at the palace of alcazarzaray.

kaveh is very much proud of his magnum opus, even with all the problems it caused him (they're smart enough to know why kaveh couldn't raise them by himself in their earliest years; nonetheless, they still love him, and hold nothing against him because they were still raised by wonderful people in spite of kaveh's financial issues). knowing this, it's with gentle and purposeful strokes of their paintbrush on the canvas that they sought to encapsulate its beauty in another light. the painting would have been a gift for kaveh.

it isn't uncommon for scholars and other bystanders to visit the palace. many scholars who do so often know who they are; those from amurta know of them through tighnari, those of them from kshahrewar know of them through kaveh, so on and so forth. some whisper fondly at the sight of them painting so intently, gaze sharp and lips slightly bitten due to the intensity of their focus, while others scoff but move on without pointing anything out.

ultimately, everyone knows it's best to leave them alone, either out of fear of disrupting them or out of fear of angering their influential family members.

it's sudden when they get their vision, the little gem sitting in their lap after a momentarily blinding flash at the most unexpected of moments.

it takes them a minute to come out of their artistic haze, blinking slowly at the sight of the unmistakable deep blue stone in their lap. they raise it to the sun. the symbol for hydro glares back at them.

that's when they panic.

their heart lurches into their throat as they quickly pack up all of their supplies, pupils blown wide with the rush of adrenaline and cortisol in their bloodstream. it's hard to breathe all of a sudden.

getting a vision is generally regarded as a good thing. some may say that it's something to celebrate. people have compared their visions to being warm gazes like those from mentors looking at their students, loving looks from a parent to a child, but to them? oh, no. their's is something much more sinister than that.

it is the sharp, calculated gaze of a divine oppressor glaring at the poor, weak mortals at her feet.

if it had been any other element, they might have been excited, but...

hydro is the element of their homeland. nothing good came from their homeland. focalors virtually forced them out by taking their parents, forcing them to wander aimlessly through the sumeran deserts, ridden with heat stroke and exhaustion. their weak lungs as a result of fontaine's polluted state had a hard time supporting their journey. they were on the brink of death more than once. they had to go through all of that just to find a new home, a place to survive. nothing good came from their homeland.

nothing good came from fontaine. at least, not when they lived there.

so naturally, they flee, darting through the expansive rainforests of sumeru, vision clutched in one hand while the other carries a bag with all their supplies messily shoved in. after being with the forest rangers for so long, they know how to handle themselves. navigating the forest is second nature at that point.

the air is much clearer in this nation, they think. it's nice.

when they get to gandharva ville, all they can manage to do is break down sobbing into collei's arms. she doesn't know what's wrong, but she knows that something is wrong. she does tend to flinch away from sudden touches, but she's known [name] for so long now. it's genuinely hard for her to feel uncomfortable. sometimes she does, though. even so, the sight of their tears seems to drown out any discomfort she may have felt. she knows they would never hurt her.

she loves them too dearly to even consider pushing them away.

when they're calm enough to talk about it, quietly murmuring something about not wanting that stupid god's blessing, she offers to escort them back to alhaitham's house, because ultimately...

this isn't an issue she can handle.

they need kaveh.

they need their father.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot! adoptive dad!kaveh taglist: @kaoyamamegami, @zeldadou, @bebobeboben. send a non-anonymous ask to be added.