#spinals

[arunneronthird]

they get along great

[gayaest]

[OC] Saad 🍰🍨🍫 (description in alt-text)

[beebfreeb]

If I saw a nutcracker nobody could stop me

[painedandconfusedsblog]

I don’t know who needs to hear it but it is not a moral failing if you are doing all that you can to relieve pain yet are not making a dent. It’s not your fault. Your pain is not your fault. Relief isn’t happening because your pain is mighty and under treated. Not because you aren’t trying hard enough. Your pain is not your fault.

[plague-parade]

happy disability pride to all of my fucked up spine havers

happy disability pride to those of us who have spinal cord injuries, degenerative disc disease, ankylosing spondylitis, scoliosis, kyphosis, lordosis, spinal arthritis, cauda equina syndrome, tethered cord syndrome, spinal fusions, stenosis, myelopathy, radiculopathy, spondylolithesis, craniocervical instability, spina bifida, spinal tumors, syringomyelia, and anything else spine related

we are so very cool and i love you all so much

[archiepelago]

alternate surface au inspired by a few ive seen around on tumblr :3

[crippled-peeper]

how ablebodied people look at me after telling me they’d violently kill themselves if they had my disability

[thats-sir-dyke-to-you]

I've always been curious to know this about the people around me. Most people have been in severe pain, but in my experience few have had what they would say is their 10/10 experience. I guess it's just something I find fascinating, as I had my 10/10 experience quite young and I sometimes forget that not everyone has. In my opinion it changes your relationship with pain and how you engage with it afterwards. If you answered yes, feel free to elaborate on your circumstances in the tags!

(reblog for a bigger sample size etc)

[winter-seance]

This Is Spinal Tap (1984)

[trek-tracks]

one of the episodes of all time

[preqvelle]

[valcaira]

Shoutout to paralyzed people. Those with complete paralysis, incomplete paralysis; Those whose paralysis was caused from accidents, brain injuries, strokes, spinal cord injuries, neurological illnesses; Those with paraplegia, quadriplegia, hemiplegia, tetraplegia. Who were born paralyzed or became paralyzed later in life.

Those who have a carer, those who use a wheelchair full-time, those who use crutches or canes and those whose mobility aid is a hospital bed. Those with incontinence, who wear adult diapers, ostomy bags and catheters. You are not "lesser" for needing care or not being able to live independently. You deserve to live a comfortable life with autonomy and dignity.

We rock. We're fucking amazing. I love you.

[etrevil]

[aingeli]

i did it....

[smittyw]

EPIC COMMISSION FOR @ame-in-the-rain feat. my in-laws the resident evil weirdguys

[5ueckers]

pretty girls

pairing : azzi fudd x reader

warnings : smut.

notes : azzi 😍💞💓🌸💗💗🪷💖🥰💝💘🌼🌺🌺❣️💞💞💞 thats all.

words : 1898

you and azzi collapse onto the couch in the dorm, exhausted. drunk. annoyed.

tonight was a dud, to say the least. you’ve barely had any time to go out and have fun, like you should as college students, because of basketball and junior year being the absolute worst when it comes to your workload. and then, on the one night you do have off, free of practice for the next couple days and all your homework turned in, both the guys you planned on spending it with turned out to be absolute dicks.

yours had seemed nice enough, in the beginning. he’d been the one ask you out after over a week of staring you down in your shared econ class, take you, azzi, and the football player she’s been talking to out to some club in hartford, and then back to his place after a couple hours of dancing and taking shots. but just as he’d gotten you back to his dorm and out of your clothes, he’d said something so boyishly disgusting, it’d taken real reserve for you to not to slap him before pushing him off of you, re–dressing, collecting your things, and getting the hell out of there.

it’d been pure coincidence that azzi texted asking if you could meet with her as you’d stumbled out of werth tower, phone in one hand and your heels in clutched in the other. you’re not sure what happened with her and her football player— it couldn’t have been good, judging by how her makeup was running. you’d felt bad, and held her hand the whole uber ride back to the dorm, the pad of your thumb caressing the back of her hand.

“want a water?” you ask the girl, tiredly. you’re still very much inebriated and standing could result in a pretty embarrassing fall.

she nods, though, and so you decide to risk it, stumbling into the kitchen and at one point using the wall for support. you grab two bottled waters and pad back into the living room, handing one to azzi and sighing as you sit back down next to her, close. you can feel the heat from her body radiating onto you.

“that fucking sucked,” you gripe, recalling the night, earning a weak, drunken laugh from azzi.

“dudes…” she says, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her water, eliciting giggles from yourself. a single word is enough to get her point across; men fucking suck.

“ugh, and i’m still wet,” you murmur to yourself, the alcohol in your system removing any filter you’d have otherwise. you and azzi are close, so this is probably the least provocative thing you’ve said to her tonight; you both laugh at the statement. you shift uncomfortably and tug at the end of your dress. you need to get out of this chiffon and take a long, hot shower.

azzi turns to look at you, one of her curls falling out of place. she still looks so pretty, even though her makeup had gotten messy. her big brown eyes and perfect, clear skin and full lips. how could anyone fumble her and live with themselves?

“what?” she giggles at how long you’ve been looking at her.

“nothin’,” you smile back. “you’re just too pretty to be crying over some guy.”

then, azzi leans in and kisses you. she pulls back to assess your reaction, before kissing you again when you don’t look petrified or disgusted. you let her slip her tongue into your mouth this time, and surprise yourself with the little moan that comes with it, eyes fluttering closed. your back naturally arches to push up against her.

you lose track of how long you make out before azzi’s hand finds it way to your knee, resting there gingerly, “can i…?”

“like, finger me?” you ask dumbly, because fingering is definitely a step above kissing. plenty of girls that are straight and just friends kiss each other, even make out. but you and azzi are crossing into the territory of actually having sex.

seeing as you play basketball, the conversation of sexuality has obviously come up before, often. every other morning, actually, as paige feels the need to recount her sexcapades to you all. you hadn’t really thought about yours until you got to uconn, and then decided to quietly give yourself the title of unlabeled, while still just hooking up with guys because that’s all you knew. you didn’t think azzi…

“it doesn’t have to mean anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she assures you, her tone surprisingly casual, like she’s trying to convince you to try a new drink at the bar or attempt a shot you haven’t tried before at practice, not breach the basis of your close but purely platonic relationship. “we’re just having fun.”

you consider your position— on the couch, in the dorm, basically out in the open. the other girls had gone out, too, to ted’s, of course. but knowing them, with a schedule this clear, they won’t be home any time soon. and wet is an understatement; you’re practically aching down there, you need to be touched so bad. what could it possibly hurt?

“okay,” you say, finally, a smile slowly spreading over your features. azzi pecks your lips once more before sliding her hand further up your leg.

never having done this before, you’re nervous as you part your thighs, just slightly, still confined by the tight dress, but then her hand is there, warm palms caressing your skin and inching closer and closer towards your core. you gasp when her fingers finally graze the thong you’d put on, feeling a rush of wetness between your folds at the small contact.

“is this still okay?” your friend asks, voice barely above a whisper, and you nod, almost embarrassingly quickly. so she keeps going, experimentally rubbing you through your underwear and you keep gasping, bordering on whimpering with every touch.

“here,” azzi climbs off of the couch and positions herself between your knees, encourages you to push yourself forward by grabbing onto your hips and finally pushing up that dress. when she finally gets you out of your thong, carelessly tossing the garment aside, it’s less like she’s actually trying to get you off and more like curious touching, unknowingly sending you closer and closer to the edge as she spreads your lips open, drags her index finger up from your slit to your clit. “you are really wet,” she muses, pulling her hand away, bringing her thumb and index finger together just to pull them apart and watch as a thin string of your arousal connects them. you blush, suddenly embarrassed, thighs twitching. “it’s okay, just relax for me.”

she smiles up at you so sweetly, and you’re trying to, throwing your head back and closing your eyes and trying to even out your breathing, but then she’s bringing her face toward your cunt, flattening her tongue against you and licking upward, sending shockwaves up your spine, and you can’t help but squirm and whine. “open your legs a little wider, y/n… good girl,” she instructs, and your head practically feels like it’s swimming at the words, unbelievably sexy in her voice.

“a–az,” you want desperately to grasp at her hair, but know how long it took for her to style her curls, so you opt to just fist your hands into the sofa and cry out when she sucks your clit into her mouth.

the way azzi’s using her mouth so well and holding your legs open with a firm grip on your thighs makes you wonder if this is her first time with another girl, too. she doesn’t look grossed out by the taste or confused on how to make you feel good. if anything, when she drags her tongue down from your clit to your entrance, licking into you, she seems all too happy to responsible for the long, drawn out moan it elicits from you, and repeats the motion until you’re practically crying. when you feel your heart start to hammer against your chest, you know you’re not going to last much longer.

azzi removes her mouth from your pussy, but quickly replaces it with a pair of fingers, working over your clit at high speed while she presses wet kisses to your thighs. all it takes is a few more flicks of her wrist to make you cum, thighs trembling and toes curling into the carpet. she doesn’t stop playing with your clit until your moans turn into winces, signaling that you’re being overstimulated.

you feel almost delirious as azzi climbs into your lap, arms looping around your neck. it feels almost natural for you to place your hands on her waist, looking up at her like she hung the moon. “was i good?”

“i can’t feel my legs, i think,” you rasp in response, earning laughter from the girl, before she leans down to kiss you, the taste of your own cum potent on her lips and tongue.

as the kiss intensifies, you just go with the flow, letting your hands slip past the hem of the crop top azzi had worn. you push the fabric up until its bunched up at her chest, glad to find she went braless, and, tentatively, take her breasts into your hands, fondling them gently. azzi chuckles at your obvious nervousness and lack of experience, but her laughter quickly melts into soft moans as you take one into your mouth, sucking firmly— you don’t think you’ve ever heard a prettier sound. you don’t think you’re going to be able to just go without ever hearing that sound again.

releasing her nipple, you let your free hand travel down to the button on azzi’s shorts, popping it open, and pulling down the zipper with haste. despite the constricting denim, your hand still fits into the opening, past the hem of her panties. you figure it can’t be much different than getting yourself off with your own fingers, so you just go by what you’d do if you were on your own, rubbing slow circles into azzi’s clit to work her up before quickening the pace.

she buries her face into your neck, moans muffled as her hold on you tightens— you take that, and how wet she is, as a sign that you’re doing it right, and continue until you feel her physically shaking in your arms. “fuck, y/n, i’m gonna—” she cuts herself off with a high–pitched moan, and you continue to rub her clit through her orgasm until she stops grinding down against your hand. you rub her back, also, feeling that you’re actually kind of good at this. that you could get used to it.

the exhaustion from the night seems to hit you both like a brick, all of a sudden, and you both just sort of slump over in that position, limbs tangled and all.