#AND how people make it out like your disabilities are more of an inconvenience to THEM than they are to YOU

[mythicalcoolkid]

I love the "glasses are disability" thing because it applies to basically every complaint abled people have about disability

"You're not even that bad, why would you get that?" Have you ever used a magnifying glass for small details or zoomed in on a picture

"Why do you have that accommodation TODAY?" Why do you wear reading glasses when you're reading

"It seems like your 'needs' are inconsistent." Yeah and you wear sunglasses when it's sunny and not all the time

"But you can technically walk without that." Yeah and if I put the page really close to your face you could read it, it would just hurt and be hugely impractical, inconvenient, and limiting

"But you COULD go without it all the time, you don't NEED it to live." And maybe you could technically see without your glasses, doesn't mean it's comfortable or practical day to day

"If you REALLY had a hard time seeing you would have glasses." Have you ever known someone who couldn't afford a new pair of glasses? Or eye appointments? Someone who needed vision therapy or special prism glasses? Someone whose vision only gets bad during migraines or seizures? Someone with astigmatism that glasses can't help? Someone who didn't qualify for LASIK?

"You only use it when you're out in public." Have you ever gotten up to use the bathroom at night without putting on your glasses

"Decorating it is just trying to get attention, and it's a medical device so stop glamorizing it." Do you hate any patterned or colorful glasses frames too? Art with characters who wear glasses? People who make OCs with glasses? Glasses chains, prescription sunglasses, aesthetic fake glasses with tinted lenses?

"There are secretly lots of people just using aids for fun and attention." There are secretly lots of people wearing fake glasses or colored contacts for fun and attention, it does not affect you

"We need to find fakers, they're stealing disabled resources!" Someone pretending to need glasses is "taking" a seat in the front from someone who might need it more. That sucks and they shouldn't do that. But I'm not going to scrutinize every person who wears glasses to see if I think they really need that seat. You personally are not the arbiter of who is (based on the random times you've seen them) secretly not disabled

"My friend has that and doesn't act like that." Does every pair of glasses in production, or even every pair close to your prescription, work for you? Is your vision identical to every other nearsighted person?

"If you can do X why can't you do Y? Some people with that can do Y."/"But if you have that how can you do X? People with that can't usually do X." Some people are nearsighted and some people are farsighted and some people are both. Some farsighted people can read some without glasses and some can't. And good distance vision doesn't mean you don't ever need glasses, it's just an entirely different reason you'd need glasses

"You're too young to need that." And there are young people who need bifocal lenses

"Why don't you use this DIFFERENT aid though, it would look like you didn't even have an aid." Why doesn't everyone in the world wear contacts

"Why can't I/my friend/my kid play with it?" Do you let random strangers and children try on your glasses at the grocery store

"I was just trying to help, I thought you'd need a push/you were in the way." Are you cool with me suddenly pulling your glasses off your face to clean them, or because the glare was distracting me

"You'll eventually stop using it though right?" Are you planning on no longer needing glasses someday

Disabled people are free to add

I am aware this is not a 1-to-1 perfectly accurate post. Do not come into the notes trying to "um actually this isn't a perfect comparison." I know. Just don't

#m/cc #mine #long post #disability

[talkingattumble]

Hi guys! Here’s some advice from a cane user on how to spot a fake cane user/disability faker!

YOU CANT

You can not spot a “fake disabled” cane user. You can not know if someone’s “really disabled”, much less by just looking at them. Here are some common misconceptions.

“Cane users always need their canes. If they walk without it or put it away when it’s inconvenient, they’re faking”: WRONG! Many cane users are what we call “ambulatory” cane users. This means they don’t always need their canes to walk. I’m an ambulatory cane user, and I experience really horrible leg pain on the daily. However, I don’t always use my cane, and when I don’t need to walk or stand a lot in a certain place I don’t use it. And when I do use it, I may lift it off the ground or carry it in places that are sandy, gravelly, or otherwise hinder my cane.

“Cane users walk abnormally without their canes, someone who walks normally without their cane is faking”: WRONG! Many ambulatory cane users can walk in a way that seems “normal”. This doesn’t mean they’re not in pain, or not “really disabled”. This just means that their condition doesn’t cause a noticeable difference in walking, and likely manifests in a different way.

“Cane users always need their cane, someone who doesn’t use their cane at home is faking”: WRONG! Cane users may not use their canes at home, because at home they may be able to do things like sit down wherever and whenever, regain more spoons, and use other mobility aids. Additionally, some ambulatory cane users only need or use their canes when they are doing something physically taxing, like going on a hike or standing in a long line.

“My cane user friend told me this person looks like they’re faking, so it must be true”: WRONG! Being a cane user doesn’t immediately make you an expert on all different conditions and experiences. Your friend does not know the random cane user walking down the street, they are going off looks and stereotypes. Disabled people are not immune to being ableist.

“They enjoy their cane too much/they’re too happy/they decorate their cane, so they can’t actually be in enough pain to need a cane” WRONG! We’re people like everyone else, and we experience positive emotions too, even if we go through a lot of pain. To me, customizing my cane is like getting a tattoo or putting streaks in my hair, it’s a way of self expression. And we deserve to be able to talk openly about our full experience, which include the parts we’re neutral or happy about.

“They’re one of those cringey teenagers who name themselves arson and like dsmp, so they’re probably faking” WRONG! Do I even have to explain why saying someone isn’t disabled because of their name and interests is messed up and also stupid? Or did you already know that and just wanted to make fun of a disabled teenager?

“They’re too young to be using a cane, so they must be faking” WRONG! there are lots of disabilities or injuries that can cause young people to need a mobility aid. For example, I use a cane for my fibromyalgia.

“They only use it in private places, and never in places where people recognize them, so they must be faking” WRONG! In a world where anyone can just randomly take out their phone, take a picture of a cane user, and post them online to be made fun of, it can be stressful to use a cane in public areas. Also, they may not want people to ask questions, or they may feel embarrassed about it.

“I saw them switch hands, so they must be faking” WRONG! There are different reasons a cane used might do this, but I’m going to use my experience as an example. My fibromyalgia is not consistent. Sometimes one leg hurts more then the other. But as I said, fibromyalgia is inconsistent, and sometimes my other leg will start to hurt more or need more support, which is when I switch hands. And when both my legs hurt equally, I may switch my hand if it’s getting too sore.

“They told me they feel like they’re faking when they use their cane, doesn’t that mean they don’t really need it?” WRONG! Imposter syndrome is strong in a lot of disabled people, especially when for a lot of our lives we were told by doctors that we were fine and just being dramatic. Anxiety is also comorbid with a lot of physically disabilities, which only strengthens this. To add to this, something that I’ve felt and seen other disabled people talk about it, when their disability aid lessens the pain, they start thinking “well I’m not in that much pain so I don’t really need it” even though the reason they’re not in that much pain is because of the aid. I know it seems dumb, but imposter syndrome can be that strong and affects disabled people a lot.

“They don’t have a diagnosis, so they must be faking” WRONG! First of all, diagnoses are expensive. On their own they’re often already expensive, but counting the tons of tests you have to take to confirm the diagnosis? Absolutely ludicrous. Some may also choose not to get a diagnosis, so that they don’t have to deal with the prejudice and setbacks of being diagnosed. Also, some people use a cane for injuries, and for stress or fatigue related pains.

These are only a few of the things I commonly hear from fakeclaimers, and I wanted to just put out a reminder that fakeclaiming hurts the disabled community much, much more than it does ableists. Next time you see someone with a cane switch hands, or someone with a wheelchair stand up, or someone with crutches put them down, before you immediately call them out to a friend, take a picture, or write a post: does your fakeclaim rely on stereotypes? Are your reasons things that apply to ambulatory aid users?

If so, just stop. Be mindful. Please.

#fuck fakeclaimers #fakeclaiming cw #anti fakeclaiming #disability #cane user #mobility aid #ableism mention #fibromyalgia #mobility aid user

[cripplecharacters]

hello! do you have any advice on writing disabled characters in historical setting? specifically characters, whose diagnosis hadn't been discovered yet (for example I have a character with pots but they live before 1982)

Hi,

I love historical fiction, and know this can be a little tricky, because of course disability of various kinds has always existed and conditions are real before they’re named.

But you have options!

The most important thing, I would say, is describing the aspects of the condition and your character’s feelings and behavior around it (how they manage it, what they notice about it). You can also describe other people’s responses to how they feel and act.

You should definitely describe how your character feels about their condition. Do they wish there were others like them to talk to, do they actually already have a community of people similar to them, or do they wish no one else has what they have? Do they wonder if anyone they know is like them, or think they must be alone? Maybe they feel like their condition not a big deal at all and just an inconvenience, or maybe they feel really hindered by it and it greatly upsets them, or maybe they’re somewhere in between and sometimes get really frustrated and sometimes they feel it’s just a thing that happens.

And of course the answers to all of these will be different depending on your time period—someone with POTS in 1795 will manage their symptoms differently than someone with POTS in 1968, and the same goes for all conditions. But for POTS specifically, without naming it:

For the symptoms you can describe your character noticing that whenever they stand or sit up they feel their heart race and they feel dizzy or faint. They might not know why, but they’ll know how their body reacts.

You can describe what they avoid doing because they’ve noticed it makes them feel worse—maybe they take showers that are less hot, or go out as little as possible when it’s very hot/humid out, or maybe they don’t drink alcohol or coffee. Maybe it’s bad enough they can’t do some sort of work that is expected of them at their home, or their job, or school.

You can describe what they do because it makes them feel better—maybe they drink a lot of water, maybe they buy socks a size smaller because they noticed it makes them feel a little better, maybe they always give themselves an extra half hour to get anything done so they can stand or sit up more slowly. Maybe they take over someone else’s specific work because they can manage that better and trade with them.

As to other character’s reactions, some characters may be positive and always offer your character their arm when they’re standing so they can worry less about fainting. Some might be pretty neutral and just ask them why they never go grab a beer with them. Some might be negative and roll their eyes whenever your character needs extra time or to sit down for a bit.

People with POTS and similar conditions will recognize themselves in your character’s actions and reactions, and it’s very possible that people who have friends or family or people they know with POTS or anything similar will think “oh that’s kind of like what John Doe has.” And even if they don’t, they’ll still have read a realistic and respectful story about someone with a disability.

This goes for any disability, not just POTS. Just swap out the symptoms and ways to manage it and characters’ reactions accordingly.

Something you can choose to do, but you don’t have to do, is add a note at some point (but probably either at the end or the beginning of the story) that your character has what today we would know as POTS.

For an example I’ve seen in real life (not POTS related but about disability in general), I read a book set in the early 20th century in an institution, The Degenerates by J. Albert Mann. Since it’s a different time period, characters are referred to by terms we don’t use anymore at all or not in the same way, and many characters have conditions that we know about today but were not known at all at that time. What the author did was describe the characters’ actions (and thoughts, if they were the POV character), as well as how others reacted to them. At the end there was an appendix describing what each character might have been diagnosed with today, if anything at all (since not all people ended up at asylums because of an actual condition and some were just poor or Othered in some other way).

Thank you for your thoughtful question! I feel like I rarely see characters in historical fiction who have basically any disabilities, but thank you for wanting to create some :)

Good luck!

— Mod Sparrow

#mod sparrow #historical fiction #POTS representation

[shibaraki]

OUR MOURNING GLORY ┊ TODOROKI TOUYA

synopsis: everything born in his body will eventually outgrow it. his love for you should be no different.

tags: GN reader, hanahaki au, strangers to friends to lovers, falling in love, requited unrequited feelings, quirkless reader, villain dabi, vomiting, hanahaki as a chronic illness, quirkless discrimination, lack of self worth, hurt + comfort, mild body horror, morally ambiguous reader, first kisses, very hopeful ending (<- I prommy lol)

wc: 5.4K

A/N: now with lovely cover art from momo! thank you so much!

Dabi really fucking hates doctors, has since he was a kid.

They’re too sterile. The strong antiseptic smell burned his sinuses and being surrounded by entirely white walls set him on edge. As though he had been deposited into a liminal space where time does not exist. A cacophony of suffering, incessant beeping, wheels rolling on old gurneys, echoed footsteps, all coalescing into prickly white noise.

Finding a place that would actually treat him was a hell in and of itself. Bigger hospitals and university medical centres weren’t viable options, given how beefed up security usually was. Seedy back-alley places existed in the areas he liked to haunt, but even the thought of stepping foot into one gave him sepsis.

Quirkless clinics were rare. Most that existed ran out of funding— the government saw no reason to care for a dying species. If you didn’t have a quirk then you had it bad. Citizens were legally required to have it listed under a disability on their medical records, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to be turned away in the emergency room because of it.

Dabi almost walked away that first night. As bad of a guy as he is, there was something inherently wrong about infringing on space that did not belong to him. But you had stepped out into the street for a break, jacket pulled close to your chest, took one look at the blood dried to his cheeks and rallied him inside.

He finds himself back here again, for the nth time. Today makes it an entire year since he met you, and ten full months since he coughed up that first bud. A mild inconvenience turned into an invasive bloom.

“…Hanahaki is a serious disease. It is a condition where vine-like buildup in your airways forms into buds, eventually flowering into…”

Morning glories. Buds of deep-blue, trumpet-shaped blossoms and leafy stems. The delicate petals taste surprisingly bitter, with a bite that lingers in the fissures between his molars after it has been ground into thin paste and swallowed. He had long since gotten used to the astringency— drying his throat, twisting his stomach.

“…At best it causes severe breathing difficulties and discomfort. Worst case scenario, it can be fatal…”

In the beginning he thought it would pass. Dabi has endured sickness all his life and a cough wasn’t about to stop his long laid plans. But it worsened, mutated into something he could not control. He remembers sitting in your bathroom on the toilet lid, the little blue burgeon rolling in the shallow of his palm. It’d been covered in bloody mucus, but still a pip, still harmless.

Any sane person might have been afraid at that moment, realising what fate awaited them. Dabi, however, felt oddly resigned. One in one hundred million. Of course this would happen to him. Death clung to him everywhere he went.

“Dabi, are you listening?”

Doctor Tereda had been the one to stitch him up back then. A quack with a near useless cell activation quirk and glasses lenses thick enough for a bullet to bounce off. You’d dragged him into her office, sat him on the bed with surprising strength, and she attended to him no questions asked.

Dabi tried not to make a habit of visiting one place too often, but between your pleading eyes and his rapidly worsening health, he ended up back in her office more times than he cared to.

He makes a noncommittal sound.

“As a medical professional I must strongly advise you to talk to the individual these feelings have bloomed for,” Terada says. Dabi does not like the sympathetic pinch in her brow. “That is the least invasive option”.

Prying open his chest and baring himself to you seems pretty damn invasive. “Not happening,” he mutters airily.

There’s a sense of satisfaction when her frown strains with frustration. Her glasses slip down the bridge of her nose. “Your case is incredibly advanced. It may be your only chance to tell—”

“You got something wrong with your ears?” he interrupts. The stitches beneath his eyes sting, pulled taut by his glare. “I said no”.

Tereda sighs and turns to her screen, pushing her frames back up. The keyboard clicks under her fingers. Every computer here was ancient, their systems totally outdated, but they made do.

“You have two more options. The best results are produced if both treatments are done together,” she explains. “First is surgery. You’ll be put under general anaesthesia and the disease will be removed along with some surrounding tissue in the lungs for biopsy. Memories of the loved one are usually lost”.

Dabi slouched to feign disinterest, betrayed by the restless bounce of his knee, “And?”

“Your second option is to attend an interpersonal psychotherapy programme,” she lifts her hand to silence him before he can interject. “This is highly recommended to patients after surgery to prevent relapse. But you can do it regardless, as it is helpful in reducing your symptoms, and while the disease becomes chronic, it is more manageable”.

Dabi’s jaw shifts as he grits his teeth, pulling at the staples by his mouth, “Calling me fucking crazy now, eh Doc?”

“No,” she replies cooly, schooling her features into something kinder. “As people we underestimate the influence our mental well being has over our physical condition. Hanahaki disease is rare, yes. But over a quarter of all cases are found to be psychosomatic”.

Dabi laughs dryly and brings a fist down hard, smoke squeezed from between his knuckles marred the desk with black. “So this is of my own making, is that what you’re saying?”

“This isn’t something you plant into yourself, Dabi. It isn’t your fault and I could be completely wrong. I’m not all knowing, I’m just a doctor,” a smooth hand is placed over top of his own in effort to comfort, “But torturing yourself will only feed it”.

He scrambles to his feet, the chair legs scraping piercingly across the tile, and snatches his fist back to hold behind his back. The doctor levels him with a sad, soft look, her upper body still leaned across the table.

“If you leave this as it is it will only hurt you. It is already hurting you,” Tereda continues critically. “We can mitigate this, Dabi. Before it kills you”.

That unearths some ill-gotten memory from the recesses of his brain. A film strip he replays often in solitude; the day Endeavor sat him down and told him he shouldn’t use his quirk anymore. At first it was a fatherly suggestion, unnaturally low and soft. “You should stop. It’s hurting you, Touya,” as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

That never made sense to him. In training they used to focus on fire, usually— on intensifying his flame power— but on occasion they would spar. Between poor footing and wrong steps, Endeavour always reprimanded tears and quick surrender.

“But it hurts…”

“Strong heroes fight through pain,” he said. “The world does not stop just because you are crying. Get up! Or are you weak?”

Touya took it to heart, back then. Clenched his chubby little fists tight and got to his feet with a wobbly snarl on his damp, swollen face.

Young minds are impressionable and his own had already been moulded by the very hands on his shoulders. Endeavour’s fingers had held on tight, dwarfing Touya’s frame; heat soaking through his shirt from those searing palms and the sting of old wounds had been enough to keep him grounded in reality. You should stop this. It’s hurting you.

Those words festered and ate away at his soul like an infection. Giving up was against everything he knew— and against everything Endeavor told him a hero should be. It was not an option he was willing to take, and so Touya trudged forward, just as he was taught.

Eventually Endeavour’s words evolved into demand. He became furious. Touya became accustomed to long sleeves and learned how to treat burns alone. Hands made for saving left oval shaped bruises and finger painted the entire family.

How do you abandon something stitched into the very fabric of your being? Being the Number One hero was his hereditary purpose. His father gave up on him so readily but Touya would have rather died than surrender when it got tough. Giving it up would be dying all the same.

Pain was a toll necessary for growth. He grew until his ambition and greed swallowed him whole. And now, there was you. A garden of weeds in his lungs. You were rooted into the capillaries and harvesting his yearning. Every time he coughed it felt like self immolation; a cruel cycle he can not stop repeating.

Hanahaki discriminates. It happens to those who feel deeply, people whose hearts are hemmed by the ones they love. Dabi is selfish but more than that he is lonely, and you’re the one good thing he has in this shit hole.

Accepting the surgery would just be another loss. A surrender. It wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things; Dabi is going to die either way. A walking corpse. Skin, esophagus, tear ducts, tissue— his fire burns all of it. Deep within him, eating away at his soft insides like dry grass. And what withstands that heat are the seeds you have unknowingly sown.

There is something disturbingly satisfying about carrying a piece of you to the grave with him, flowers proliferating around the earth that houses him. Call him twisted. It isn’t as if he’s unaware he’s got a few loose screws— he also has no desire to get better.

The silence is broken by the quiet scratch of pen to paper. Doctor Tereda offers a thin smile and slides a prescription across the table, signed and ready to be collected. “Here. This should help with the pain for at least a week or two. We know how easily you burn through medication so… don’t take too long to make your decision,” she hesitates before shaking her head. “And go to the emergency room if your breathing worsens”.

Dabi eyes her suspiciously, grabbing the slip and shoving it into his coat pocket. Worrying at his lower lip he offers her a short nod, the ‘thanks’ implied.

As he turns and makes his way toward the door, Dabi pauses just before turning the handle. He doesn’t look back as he mutters, “Keep this to yourself, yeah? That means no putting it on my records”.

Tereda hums curiously, “No one else has access to your records”.

He scoffed, turning his wrist and pulling the old door to demonstrate his point; a groan reverberates throughout the room as it opens, “Yeah right. This is hardly a fine establishment”.

“I resent that!”

Dabi strides through the familiar corridor toward the waiting room, ignoring Tereda’s indignant shout. He wasn’t off the mark about how shoddy the place is— atleast, in comparison to other medical centres. The building is small and narrow. It was built during the pre quirk era and handed off to the quirkless by the government to honour their status. The whole thing stank of ridicule and it pissed him off the more he thought about it.

You’re exactly where he expects you to be. Sitting pretty at your desk, twiddling your thumbs, keeping watch over the empty space and quietly mumbling some melody from Mount Lady’s latest hair care advert over the unremitting whirr of the fan above.

A laugh bubbles in his chest, drawing your attention, and it chokes him in effort to smother the sound. You are alarmingly predictable. There, plain as day on your computer screen, are his supposedly secure medical records.

Dabi pressed the heel of his hand to his sternum as he violently coughed. You’re talking to him now, on your feet and rubbing along his back. A viscous lump of petals forces its way into his throat and he feels his quirk react. Still, you don’t pull away.

“Deep breath,” God, that’d be nice. “You’re okay. I’ll get you some water,” Don't go.

You stop and let him drag you back by the wrist. He rights himself on his feet and forces the flowers down. “I’m—” bile stings the back of his mouth and he gags, turning his face into his coat collar to hide a grimace.

Dabi exhales and it sounds so thin. “Fuck. I’m fine. Don’t start,” he croaks, hardly convincing. Rooting through his pocket, he shoves his prescription slip forward to distract you, the paper crumpled into a small ball. “Doc gave me a prescription. It’s just a chest infection”.

He lingers and observes as you unwrinkle it. You’re careful to smooth out each corner and wrinkle. The tension swells as the silence stretches. He tempers the urge to snatch it back.

You squint at him, “A dosage this high for a chest infection?”

He shrugs and reaches over his head to yank his coat hood forward. “Doctor’s orders”.

After a beat, you relent and glance over to give him an exasperated smile, “Whatever. As long as it helps clear your lungs. You freaked me out last night with all that wheezing”.

You begin switching off your monitors, patting down at your pockets for the keys. To synchronise with the end of your shift, Dabi purposely chose the last appointment. That was another thing he has been doing a lot— trying to fit his life around yours.

“Watching me sleep now, perv?”

“Yeah. I love when a guy sounds like a punctured squeaky toy, really gets me worked up,” you drawl, falling in line with him after turning off the lights and checking the locks. Tereda would close up the rest.

You brought a tonal shift to his life he couldn’t have anticipated; enough that he regularly spent nights crashing on your couch to wait out the bad weather. There was something about you from the beginning that he couldn’t put a finger on. Nothing as simple as your attractiveness— you had a good heart, but not by society's standards, much like Twice.

A quick internet search would pull up listings of buildings he had burned and the trail of bodies left in his wake. But it didn’t matter. Villain, vigilante, hero, a person is a person, even him.

That first meeting, winter settling in, you admitted to him you were quirkless. A shitty olive branch effort, he’s sure. That whole instinctual radar that comes with being a misfit in this world. You left a strong impression. He recalls how he gave you the name Dabi, cackling harshly as if he were leaving you with a ticking time bomb, and you simply said: “Maybe I’ll see you again. Hopefully without all the blood, next time”.

He latched on and desperately wanted to hate you for it. Yet your arm is linking through his once again, pressed close to his side as the rain hammers down onto the empty street, and everything he can’t bring himself to say has taken root in his windpipe.

“Wanna come up?”

“For coffee?” he swipes his tongue over his teeth, raising a suggestive brow. Your offer is as innocent as it always is, and the sight of you flustered is as welcome as ever.

“Tea, actually,” is your poorly veiled response.

Dabi knows he’s getting too comfortable. You might be quirkless but you’re not stupid. Infact, at times you’re unsettlingly perceptive; his only mercy is that you are too nice to pry.

He should tell you ‘no’. Giran could probably set him up. He might even get away with crashing at the bar. Instead he says, “Not like I’ve got anywhere else to be”.

Your apartment building is nothing to write home about. Slightly run down, maintained by residents rather than their pig landlords. It stands shorter than the neighbouring buildings, the entire right side eaten by withered wisteria. Nobody bats an eyelid at his appearance in a place like this.

Inside is a mirror of the outside. Unremarkable in every way, yet he feels remarkably at home. You go in first, kicking off your shoes without bothering to line them up, waddling to the narrow linen closet in the hallway. You’ve managed to cram a dryer right beneath the shelves, since there was barely any space elsewhere.

“I can grab you something to wear while I put our stuff on a spin”.

The rain sticks to his forehead, thin streaks of black dye running down his temple. Grinning, you hand him an old towel, already stained and fraying at the hem, “You look harmless like this. Like a wet cat”.

He pats carelessly at his face while shucking off his coat. The nerves are long dead and it’s painless. You squawk when the heavy fabric hits the genkan floor with a wet slap. “Dabi!”

“That’s what you get,” he rolls his neck and bends to untie his boots, the towel thrown over his shoulder. “Harmless. I burned down a money laundering front just a few hours ago”.

“I saw it on the news. You’re such a dickhead,” you laugh, heading into the kitchenette. “There was no good reason for you to melt the asphalt of that entire city block”.

A smile works its way onto his face. Gross. “Can’t have them mistaking me for a good guy”.

“You are a good guy”.

“You’re delusional,” he shoots back, an unbearable fondness swelling in his chest. The pressure is the worst part. Spools of vine and leafy green pierced into lung tissue, stems squeezing through his rib cage.

You’ve been staring at him for too long. That sweet smile hasn’t wavered. Dabi clears his throat, first to dispel the awkwardness he feels and then again as a stray petal sticks to his throat. It brushes against his tonsils and he quickly covers his mouth.

“Sure you’re okay?” your voice is quiet, testing the waters.

A fingernail catches on a staple by his chin as his hand drags down his face, answering on an exhale, “Fine. Stop asking. Didn’t you say something about tea?”

“Can’t help it,” you huff, shutting the overhead cupboard with too much force. "You’re not a good liar, you know”.

Dabi gives a dismissive wave and heads over to the couch. The distance is barely four strides but he manages to unbuckle his belt, jeans unbuttoned and falling loose around his hips. Kicking them off with little to no grace, your eyes are heavy on his back as he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it at the laundry pile tucked away near your bathroom.

The quaint studio can barely house you, never mind him. Dabi was always small for his age but here it feels like he could stretch and touch every wall.

You’re moving in his periphery, following his lead and gradually revealing swaths of bare skin. You’ve seen him half naked before, in the clinic, but never the reverse. Dabi swallows thickly, ignoring the intimate atmosphere he unintentionally created. The kettle is electric and he takes comfort in the loud gurgling sound that comes with it, fixing his gaze on the blank TV screen.

“You can turn it on, you know. You are allowed,” you coaxed, voice warm and teasing. You’ve rummaged through the pile of clothes and found a hoodie that falls below your hips. “Or are you just going to sit there with your dick out?”

“You fucking wish,” he objected, reaching for the remote. Is it? His eyes fall to his lap. No, it isn’t.

He slouches, reclining into the cushions as some old rerun of Mighty Man plays. “Hey,” idly picking at a loose thread, he asks, “do you get many people come through with hanahaki?”

That gives you pause, and immediately he regrets asking. It’s hardly a common question. Hell, a good percentage of the population thought it to be an old wives tale, even in the wake of quirks. There was no plausible excuse as to why it would be on his mind.

Cautious in your approach, you stop by the couch with a steaming mug cradled in your hands. He sees those naked thighs, soft and uniquely yours. “Is… is that why you’ve been coughing?”

“No,” Dabi scoffs. In one forceful yank he rips the seam open and watches the foam innards spill out. You linger, weight shifting between your feet, and irritation prickles under his skin. “Who the hell do you think I would be chucking up flowers for? Not like I’ve got friends”.

Your shoulders lose tension and he tries not to think too hard about it; he doesn’t want to know. He feels his own airways clear at the sound of your laughter, “I dunno. Stain, maybe?”

Pursing his lips, he sucks back the copper from between his teeth, “Fuck you”. You try to smile. You pass his tea and he forgoes the handle. The warmth of the mug seemed to seep into his bones and ease the ache.

“Right right. Big bad villain. I forgot you’re supposed to be an empty husk without a heart,” you teased, sitting unnecessarily close and burying your feet beneath his thigh, careful not to touch his staples. The hoodie slips and pools around your hips. Dabi’s throat constricts as his body goes rigid. “Ah shit. Are my toes cold? Want me to grab a blanket?”

Forcing himself lax he clicks his tongue and tastes iron, grip tightening on his mug as he brings it to his lips. “Doesn’t matter. I run cold anyway”.

The tea is soothing. Sweet for a ginger tea— brown sugar, maybe. You must’ve boiled it for his sore throat. Molasses swirl on his tongue. They wash down the blood and clean his palette. A smooth, mellowed out aroma fills his senses and overpowers the delicate anise fragrance lingering at the back of his throat.

You concede, tucking your knees under your chin and regarding him with that look again. The one that feels as if you’re reading him like a page in a book. He has never been the type to worry about appearances but when it’s you he can’t help wondering what you think of him.

A cartoonish explosion fills the room with streams of orange and yellow as the episode comes to the halfway point. The light paints your silhouette gold, reflecting in your irises as they retract from the brightness.

Taking another gulp, he winced at the sharp twist in his chest. Two weeks was generous and Tereda knew it. He’s already vomiting full flowers. Corpses make for fertile soil, apparently. He read that somewhere online while he searched for information on morning glories; you are fast growing and frost tender.

A soft note breaks the silence and your toes start to wriggle. “I can hear you thinking. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Despite what you thought, he was a good liar. To those around him but most of all to himself. This is when he should retaliate with a biting comment and keep the equilibrium. He would, if not for the wave of heat that rolls through him at your words, and how obviously you felt it displace the air.

Dabi can lie. His body can not.

“Just that thing you said earlier, about being an empty husk,” he begins, bringing the warm mug to rest against his sternum, incognisant to the ring of heat stinging his skin.

Your expression wanes with regret and he hates it. “I was joking—”

“If you say sorry I’ll burn your couch to a crisp,” he fumes. Vulnerability made him defensive. Angry. It felt like cold air blowing on exposed muscle. “Didn’t ask for a meaningless apology”.

Deep in the cavity of his ribs another bud unfurls. Your patience with him is not endless but it is more than he deserves.

“Then what are you asking?”

Nausea curdled in his stomach. He feels it climb his gullet. “Guess I wondered what you really thought”.

“About…?”

He snarls, hackles raised. “Do I have to spell it out?”

A few beats pass. Your answer comes in a gentle murmur. “Well, our capacity to hate reflects our capacity to love. So, yeah. I do think you’ve got a pretty big heart. It’s just a bit bruised up”.

“Jesus,” he mutters. The worst part is you’re being entirely honest. His knees spread as his hips shift, the after credits begin to roll and reflect off the sutures around his thighs. It reminds him that he is half naked, literally and figuratively. “Forget I said anything. I need a smoke”.

“No smoking,” you bat lightly at his shoulder. “Not until you’re better. If I catch you I’ll kill you before that cough does”.

And isn’t that fucking hilarious.

Pressure prickles behind his eyes that he can never relieve. There’s a florid mass in his thoat; his pulse is thrumming now, singing in his ears. He needs to throw up.

You shout after him as he stumbles over toward your bathroom. He slams the door behind him, hears you curse as his ceramic mug hits the floor and breaks. This isn’t romance, or a fairytale. It isn’t like it is in the movies.

Lifting his fist, he brings it down hard on his sternum. The force barrels him over and he retches. Sour, viscous threads of saliva drip from his mouth into the toilet bowl, but nothing more comes up.

You’re banging at the walls. “Dabi, open up!”

Dabi lurches again, forcing a deep cough and watching a few small heart shaped petals dance in the air as they free fall. Again, collapsing to his knees, he can taste your ginger tea. He vomits a clump of bloomed morning glories, wrinkled and smooshed into a misshapen ball. Blood muddies the water.

Another knock, this one somewhat pitiful. There’s a soft noise that sounds like you’re sliding down the door. “Please don’t make me break this open. My landlord will kill me”.

Trembling. Dabi reaches his fingers into his mouth and feels around the teeth to dislodge what was left. Settling back on his feet, his hand uncurls like a slow sprouting shoot and reveals another morning glory in the shallow of his palm.

Colour streaks across his vision, filled with hazy undulations. White noise drowns out the frantic tone of your voice. Mouth hung open, Dabi inhales until his lungs bloat, and keeps it held until the lights begin to fade.

His consciousness tips from one dream to another. When he wakes up on his back surrounded by soft, freshly washed sheets. A sigh escapes his lips as he turns into the downy pillow beneath his head. It smells like you.

Fingers comb through his hair, pushing the bangs away from his forehead. It’s then that he notices the mattress dipped towards the weight of another.

Dabi squints, prying his eyes open. You’re laid beside him. At first he considers that he’s dreaming, but you feel so real. Your thumb strokes over his cheek in a tender back and forth motion, “You comfy?”

“Better than the couch,” he rasps. There’s an awful taste in his mouth. Intermingling mint and copper. “Did you brush my teeth or something?”

“I rinsed your mouth out,” you admit bashfully. Now that he’s looking he notices your eyes are red. Puffy like you’d been crying. Your smile fractured as you added, “I had to make sure nothing else was stuck”.

Realisation creeps in slowly. It’s gentle with him, like you are, acclimating him to reality. Just like that— you know.

“How’d you get me in here?” he deflects.

You prop yourself up on your elbow and reach to trace the topography of his scarred chest. His breathing stutters and your fingers stop right over his heart.

“Might’ve pulled a muscle or two but it wasn’t so hard. You weigh almost nothing,” you reply. Quiet, as though you were afraid to break the illusion. “Kinda concerning but it seems you have bigger stuff to worry about already, huh?”

Eyes falling closed, he inhales, counting to three. He replies on the end of a long exhale, “Didn't want you to know”.

“Tereda does?”

Dabi nods and the movement knocks his brain loose. He hisses at the throbbing pain. You take him into your palms with a frown, “You hit your head on the way down. You’ll have to come in with me again in the morning”.

“Fuck that,” he groans. You tap at his temple and pout your lips, glaring disapprovingly. “You can’t make me”.

“I can and I will,” his eyes widened at the crack in your voice. Tears gather along your lash line and you sniff harshly, “You could have died, Dabi. And now you might have a head injury. How the hell could you not tell—?!”

“Alright, alright. Shit,” uncharacteristic of him, Dabi let himself have this. His hand cups round your neck and brings you down into his bare chest. He hushes you softly, running his palm down the length of your spine, wrapping you in a clumsy embrace. “Don’t cry about it”.

You settle into the crook of his neck, nose bumping his jaw as you turn to speak, and he suppresses a shudder. “Don’t cry about it,” you repeat mockingly. “You really have no idea, do you?”

“Enlighten me”.

Frustration bursts, and you lift your head to look at him. You’re so close. “I care about you, idiot. I don’t want you dead on my bathroom floor! Sue me!”

Dabi cracks a crooked smile. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me”.

“Who is it?”

And he sours, his stare fixed on the ceiling above. “Does it matter?”

“It matters,” you lean over him until all he can see is you. “…Is it me?”

There’s an echo in his ribs; a phantom knife’s twist. Sure, Dabi is a good liar, he thinks. Touya never was. Touya wore his heart on his sleeve. He was terrible at concealing his hurt. Dabi tries to find the words and comes up short.

The silence is answer enough. Your mouth wobbles and you nestle back into his neck before he can see you cry in earnest. “You are so fucking stupid, Dabi”.

Despite the seriousness he laughs, tucks his nose to your crown and tightens his hold around your waist. He’s only ever imagined what your weight would feel like pressed against him like this. Maybe he’s imagining it, but his lungs are lighter.

“What did Doctor Tereda advise you to do?”

He pouts where you cannot see it. He doesn’t want to think about that quack right now. “She told me either I get the surgery and go to therapy, or I get the symptoms to calm down with therapy on its own”.

“Of course you’d…” you huff. “She didn’t tell you to talk to me?”

“That too,” he shrugs, grinning at the warning press of your teeth to his throat. It’s disturbing how comfortably you both fell into place. A soft kiss replaces your bite, and he holds his breath.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him, kisses trailing up his jugular to his cheek, unperturbed by the scar tissue and metal in his skin, or the tremors rumbling through his body. “I’m sure there’s no way in hell I can get you to agree to therapy. So instead I’m going to take you out on a few dates and see how your symptoms change”.

Dabi’s mouth opens for air and your lips brush, stealing his breath. “What the fuck?” he says. “Why?”

There’s no point, he wants to tell you. It won’t change a thing.

“Because I want you to believe me,” you murmur, nose knocking his own. Inexplicably drawn to you, Dabi tilts up to align your mouths again, barely a kiss. “If you die it won’t be because of me. And I atleast want you to go out knowing that I love you too”.

The swell in his throat is different this time. He has never been so glad about his inability to cry. Dabi grins, wide and all teeth, pushing the staples in his cheeks up by his eyes. “There’s something really wrong with you, you know that?”

“No kidding,” you laugh. “Guess we make a good pair”.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader

[purplesaline]

Symptoms of POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome)

Hypoxia (dizzy within 10 minutes of standing up, may experience vision "grey outs" or black outs)

Standing too long may result in trembling (like what happens when your muscles are tired after a workout), cold sweat, feeling like you're about to vomit

Some people may faint

Arms above your head tires you quickly

You feel better if you squat down

You start sitting or laying down with your legs lifted (so they're higher than your heart) when you never did that before

Dry skin (if you had dry skin to start with now it's even dryer)

Intolerance to heat. Need to sit in the shower because standing is even harder than outside the shower

Slower healing

You get heartburn/acid reflux more often

Your feet/hands get cold even when it's warm out (secondary Raynauds)

Exhaustion/lack of energy. You're just tired all the time.

"Out of shape" you can't walk as far/do as much as you used to be able to

Frequent urination

Feeling worse after eating carbs (particularly refined carbs)

Exercise intolerance

Not an exhaustive list

If you read this list and found yourself relating to enough of those points to make you concerned, when was the last viral or bacterial illness you experienced? A lot of people who got covid will have developed POTS as a result. POTS can also be triggered by physical trauma, and AFAB folks are far more likely to develop it than AMAB folks.

If you have ADHD or are hypermobile you are more likely to develop POTS.

If you have hEDS you are more likely to develop it.

the majority of the symptoms we're aware of is a result of our blood vessels not properly constricting, which causes blood to pool in our lower extremities rather than return to our heart for redistribution. This causes the heart to pump harder in an attempt to get the blood returned.

My case is one of the more severe ones and my symptoms are constant rather than coming in flares, but to serve as an example just a 20 minute shopping trip to Walmart had my heartrate up to 200bpm. Luckily fainting is not one of the symptoms I experience.

This is also a disorder than can get more severe over time, so it's possible many people have had it since childhood but the symptoms were mild enough to not be noticeable.

POTS, despite having so many cardiac symptoms, is not actually a cardiac disorder, it's a neurological one that impairs the autonomic nervous system and is one of the listed conditions under rhe Disautonomia umbrella (welcome to the zebra club!).

It is not considered a lethal disorder, despite how frightening it can be to have your heartrate so high. The largest factor to worry about is if fainting is a symptom you experience, but other than the dangers associated with that POTS sufferers have a normal life expectancy. It's disabling for many people and inconvenient for those that aren't disables by it, but it's not damaging your heart.

If you think you might have POTS it can be helpful to have some data to bring with you when you talk to your doctor for the first time. A "poor man's tilt table test" is a great diagnostic tool that anyone can do with access to a heartrate monitor. If you already have a fitbit that can monitor your heartrate that will work just fine. It's not the most accurate but it will give a good enough general snapshot and should hopefully convince your doctor to take the next steps.

If you don't have a heartrate monitor yet one of the most accurate heartrate monitors available to the general public is the Polar H10 chest strap monitor (in fact the guy that did my official testing said it was the best one to get). It was about $100 CAD, so definitely not cheap, but it can be used with some VR games that track your heartrate if that's something you're into lol.

A blood pressure monitor is also something that can help eith diagnostics but they're unfortunately not the most useful as they weren't designed to be used when standing (which is when the blood pressure drops), and, well, I even managed to error out the hospital's blood pressure monitor because my BP dropped too low, so I wouldn't worry too much about getting one unless you want to have one hanging around a anyway. If you do decide to get one, Omron is an excellent brand and recommended by the guy who did my testing (there was one other one he recommended above that but I've forgotten the name of it).

If your adhd meds have stopped working as well as they used to

And you've experienced any of these symptoms I highly recommend you look into getting tested for POTS. I have a strong suspicion that the recent concerns about adulterated adhd medications is not actually a problem with the medication, but a result of POTS. One of the biggest reasons for a false negative on amphetamine drug tests is dilute urine, so with POTS causing frequent urination it's entirely possible to get a false negative even with a therapeutic dose of amphetamines in your system.

If you do take amphetamines your doctor may suggest your symptoms are caused by them, so if you do approach your doctor with data from a heartrate monitor I recommend taking a medication holiday first. A full detox is approximately 3 days, but even skipping a day will make a noticeable difference in the data.

If you think you may have POTS there are some things you can do right now to improve your quality of life.

Get more electrolytes. Gatorade, pickles, SALT

Compression stockings. The best ones are that go all the way up to your midsection—pantyhose style. Thigh high is pretty good too. Even just the sock style can help though so get what you're able to access. There are three main pressure levels, the second level will generally be what most people need, but if your symptoms are more severe you may need the highest level. Keep in mind these will be much harder to put on. Get yourself some of those gardening gloves with the rubber coating, they help a lot.

Pop a squat. This will immediately drop your heartrate back to resting rate and it will stay there as long as you're in this position (it doesn't work like this for normies lol)

Get yourself a shower chair and take cooler showers

If washing yourself is a major chore don't be afraid to use an electronic scrubber! I've heard there are some specifically for exfoliating but honestly I've just been using one meant for scrubbing my shower and put a soft pad on it. Works like gangbusters!

I'm running late so I'll leave it here, but my asks are always open if anyone has questions!

Take care of yourselves.

[anonymouse1312437]

Meet & Greet

~ Explicit! E is not for everyone! 18+ Only! 

 Minors DNI  

This contains fluff and Smut  

Please be nice I am just getting back into writing fanfics. I hope you enjoy! ~ 

Word count: 8,398 words  

Random Matthew Lillard Smut/fluff 

Today is the day I am going to meet my favorite celebrity. | can't wait to see this grown man. All of his work is impeccable. My favorite is when he played a secret serial killer. Ghostface. Scream is my favorite horror film. Stu Matcher. One of the best Ghostface in the series. He made a great William Afton. Matthew Lillard is by far my favorite male actor. The people in line before me waiting to meet the wonderful person started to quiet down. He must have arrived. 

"Hey everyone, I want the ones who are disabled or somehow on the spectrum to make their way to the front of the line" 

Matthew himself hollered. I saw a few people shift and move to the front of the line with nervous jitters. 

He truly is amazing. What a kind thing to do. I was in two other lines before, and they did not do that. The line moved somewhat quickly but, he tried his best to spend time with each person but, the staff continued to rush him. The closer I got to him I could tell he was getting increasingly frustrated. It was not with his fans but with the convention workers.  

"Next in line please.” A blonde angry looking woman said. 

I was almost at the front of the line. There were two people in front of me still. I was almost able to get an autograph and picture with him. So very close. 

"You know what, I need a break right now. I am getting very upset." I heard him say to a different staff member. 

"Alright everyone, Mr. Lillard is going to take a break. He will resume in an hour. sorry for the inconvenience." A parade of fans sighed. some of them got angry and stormed off. I, however, stayed put. The two people in front of me also stepped out of line. Making me the first person for when he returns. I did not want to wait another hour in line again if I could avoid it. I sat on the floor and took out my phone to play on it while I waited. I opened Tumblr and decided to read some of the fanfic others have written about him. 

Twenty minutes passed by and as I moved on to the next little story about him, I noticed it was a more explicit writing. I loved reading the smut about him. I managed to get through most of it and had gotten to the words, 

"And he growled and moaned into my ear as he thrusted into me harder as he filled me with his cum.” As someone cleared their throat behind me. Great, this is slightly awkward. I locked my phone and set it on my lap. 

I looked behind me and followed the tall figure up to the head of the person behind me and my jaw dropped open. It was him. Matthew Lillard. Shit. How long was he standing there? I started to feel my cheeks get warm. I am so embarrassed.  

"That looked like an interesting read." He said and smiled down at me. I don't think I can even form words right now. 

"I especially liked the ending." He chuckled. I smiled a little. I stood up and put my phone in my back pocket.  

"I couldn't be more embarrassed. Hey, my name is y/n." I smiled at him still blushing like a mad person. 

"Nice to meet you. Why don't you come sit over here at the table with me." He said. 

I followed him over to the table. 

"Is this allowed I don't want to get you into any trouble. I also don't want to impose or ruin your break." I said. I really do not want to take up his time to relax or embarrass myself more than I already have. 

"Don't worry. It’s fine. I have another forty minutes of free time and if I want to spend it with a friend I will." He said. Damn it! I was able to get my blushing under control finally and now I am blushing again. For being in my twenties my reactions don't act like it.  

"So, what is your favorite movie? " He asked.  

"Overall? Or something you were in?" I questioned. He gave me a big smile. 

"Overall." He kept the same smile on his face. 

"Okay I would say my favorite is a rom-com. 50 first dates. I think Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore make the best on screen couple even if the movie over all is incredibly cheesy. Now, my favorite horror movie would be Scream." I said proud of my answer.  

"That is a pretty good movie. Now, you don't have to throw the scream movie out there to boost my ego." He laughed a little.  

"Oh, I mean it. It's a good movie." I smiled at him. “I am sure you know that though. You happen to be my favorite actor.” I said sheepishly. He blushed a little.  

“Now you really are trying to boost my ego, aren’t you? No need to do that. I mean it’s nice but, you don’t have to.” He said with a smile.  

“I mean it’s the main reason I came to comic con this year. I was not going to if I did not think it was going to be worth it. Meeting you definitely made it worth it. I bought the tickets so last minute that I didn’t think I would get a chance to buy the photos with you. Sorry. I will try to calm down the super fan thing.” I said, trying to calm down the excitement. He just laughed lightly and tried to hide his blush, but it crept onto his cheeks.  

“Mr. Lillard, is this fan bothering you? Also, it’s only about five minutes until the signings and photos start back up.” The blonde angry looking lady said.  

“No, they are fine. They are not bothering me. That is quite all right thank you for the five-minute warning.” he said, smiling at her and she walked off. “It’s really all right. It happens by the way. I’m kind of used to it. Eventually the shock of it will wear off. I’m just like you in many ways, I’m sure. Just a different job is all.” He said. I’m sure he is trying to ease my comfort but, that doesn’t help at all.  

“I don’t mean to pry but, are you feeling all right? It almost seemed like you were a bit frustrated which kind of sprang on the need for a break.” I said almost mumbling the last part.  

“Definitely a little frustrated. I don’t like to be rushed when meeting fans. You all paid a lot to do the autographs and photos and rushing it really is wrong. I don’t like it when the staff pushes people to rush. It’s also how people get hurt and I really don’t want that.” He said. “Time flies though when you have someone nice to talk to. Even if they are fanning over you. Mind if I ask how old you are?” He questioned me.  

“I am twenty-five. I guess I'm still technically in my prime but, you know how life goes. I don’t exactly act like it.” I smiled. “Maybe I should get out of your hair. You are going to get busy again. I am feeling a little selfish right now because I definitely got more time than I should have with you.” I smiled.  

“Well, wait. You also were in line for everything what did you want me to sign?” 

“Oh, I was going to have you sign on my arm if that’s okay?” I don’t want to creep him out but, I want to get it tattooed.  

“Are you planning to tattoo it?” He asked. Damn I know I am not the only one to think of it, but I don’t want him to say no. I also don’t want to lie to him either. I nodded my head and he smiled at me again.  

“Alright. That’s definitely some pressure then. I cannot mess it up.” He laughed louder. I held out my left arm and he started to look at the other tattoos on it.  

“Where did you want it?” He asked.  

“Right next to the semi-colon.” I smiled at him. He grabbed my arm and started to sign his name, so it was facing me. Once he finished signing his name, he stepped away from me.  

“And your picture?” He said. I pulled my phone out and pulled my camera up.  

‘Here let me see if you don’t mind.” He said holding out his hand to grab my phone. I let him have my phone and he started to take photos of us. He took like ten photos of the two of us and handed my phone back. I put my phone into my back pocket to make sure I didn’t lose it.  

“It was really nice talking to you today. Thank you for keeping me company. I appreciate it.” He said and pulled me in for a hug. I gave him a hug and pulled away.  

Oh, my goodness it was that amazing. Best day ever. I waved goodbye and walked off as I saw a bunch of people start lining up again for autographs and photos.  

I spent the next two hours going through the convention and buying some stuff from the vendors. After that I felt pretty tired and I had paid to stay in the hotel across the street. The Hyatt was a pretty nice hotel and subway was next to it but, there was also a bar within walking distance. I started to make my way to the hotel and went to check in at the front desk.  

I handed my card over to the receptionist and she verified that it was me and handed over my key card. I went up to my room 304 and opened the door. I stepped inside to the first hotel room I rented by myself. It was beautiful. It had a king bed. A beautiful white plush duvet and fluffy pillows on the bed. A nice flat screen TV on a dresser and lamps that hung off the wall. It was beautiful. I walked over to the bed and plopped down on it. I know my house is only 30 miles away but, this was a great idea. I love a stay cation. I just laid on the bed ignoring the world for twenty minutes before finally taking my phone out of my pocket and opening up the gallery. I started to flip through the pictures from today and after a few minutes got to the ones Matthew took of the two of us. He was so tall. So very handsome. He still looked similar to when he was working on five nights at Freddy’s. The black hair, his salt and pepper beard. The mustache. It was all there. He looked like he was muscular. The hug only confirmed how he has the perfect amount of muscle but wasn’t ridiculous. He didn’t have abs but he doesn’t need them. He is perfect the way he is. Fuck me. I push myself off of the mattress and stand back up. I open my backpack and pull out a couple of outfits. What do I want to wear tonight?  

My options are a black skinny Jeans and a crop top. Or shorts and a t-shirt. Both go great with my tennis shoes. I have two extra pairs of socks and some boots in my bag as well. That was fun taking this through the security check. I’ll decide later. I am just going to shower really quick and rinse off and then I’ll get ready to go grab something to eat.  

I pull my hair tie off my wrist and put my hair up. I walk into the bathroom and turn the shower on. I made sure to put it on hot water and grabbed the wash rag the hotel provided and the body wash. I got undressed and stepped inside of the shower. I started to wash myself and then I remembered about his autograph on my arm. Shit. Shit. Shit. No. God damn it. No!  

I looked next to my semi colon and half of it was already washed off. Fuck me. That really sucks. I meant to not get that part wet and I messed it up. How fucking dumb of me. I finished up the shower with tears rolling down my cheeks. That fucking sucks. I mean I still have the memory of today but, that won’t last forever. The tattoo was going to last forever.  

I guess it will be fine. I got put of the shower and dried off. I went back over to the bed and reached for the t-shirt and shorts. I put on a new pair of socks and put my shoes on. I took the hair tie out of my hair and shook it out. My curls came back to life. I hated makeup so I opted to not wear any tonight. I think I look better without it anyway. I grabbed my phone off of the bed and slid it into my back pocket and grabbed my wallet and slid that into my other back pocket. Alright time to go to the bar. I need a drink after washing off the autograph like an idiot. 

I made my way out of the hotel and walked a block away to the bar. Once I walked in I heard the music faintly in the background. It was I want to rock and roll all night by kiss. I could karaoke to this song if I was drunk enough. I made my way over to the bar and sat down on a stool. I waited for the bartender to make their way over to me.  

“Is this seat taken?” Someone poked me on my right shoulder and gestured to the right of me.  

“Not at all.” I said. He was handsome. He was pale and slender. Had blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. He looked like he was around my age.  

“My name is Daniel. Can I buy you a drink?” He said.  

“Hey I’m y/n and I don’t see why not.” I said with a smile. He gestured to have the bartender come over.  

“I would like a vodka soda and she would like-“ He motioned to me.  

“I would like a whiskey please.” I said and Daniel looked at me with a smile. The bartender nodded and walked off to make us our drinks.  

“Wow a strong drink and not a mixed drink. That’s pretty hot. I’m not going to lie to you.” I smiled at his comment.  

“Thank you. I like my drinks strong. Helps get rid of any mistakes I might make or have made.” I said as my drink was handed to me by the bartender. Daniel handed the bartender his card and quickly paid for the drinks.  

“Hey do you mind if I sit next to you?” I heard someone say. There is a familiarity  to this person’s voice.  

“Yeah sure.” I said again refocusing my attention to Daniel.  

“You here by yourself tonight?” He asked me. I don’t want to say yes. He seems nice but, I don’t get a great feeling from him.  

“No my friend is just in the bathroom. She should be here any moment with her boyfriend and his friend.” I said.  

“Oh so like a double date?” He asked.  

“Yeah I guess you could say that.  

“Oh okay, well I will get out of your hair then. Sorry.” He said. I smiled as he made his way away from me.  

I drank the rest of the whiskey and was getting ready to flag the bartender over but the person on my left flagged them down and ordered a bourbon.  

"Do you mind topping off this young woman's drink.” He added and pointed to me. 

"Oh thank you for doing that I could have done that. " I said and finally looked at who sat next to me. It took a minute for my brain to register that it was Matthew Lillard. 

"Decided against getting it tattooed huh?" He said with a slight smile. 

"No, believe me I was upset when I realized I forgot that it was there and half of it was gone already. I was going to try and go back to your panel tomorrow to see if you could autograph it again." I said and looked down at my wrist. 

"Well here." He grabbed my wrist and pulled a marker out of his pocket and signed next to my semi colon again. He added a small heart next to it and that made me smile big. My cheeks got red as I started to blush. 

"I knew that was gonna make you blush!" He laughed and I grabbed my face in an attempt to hide my cheeks.  

"Stop it. I never blush and today I just can’t stop. I only ever blush if I think someone is extremely attractive.” I threw that in there to see if he would also blush and it worked. He was blushing and it was really cute to see. I pulled my hands away from my face. 

"Now we are even!" I smiled at him. The bartender came back and handed us our drinks. I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and pulled out my card. I started to hand it to the bartender but Matthew pushed my hand down and offered the bartender his card.  

"Absolutely not. Let me pay. Including your drink." I said. 

"No way. I don't mind buying. You have managed to make what was going to be a rather frustrating day to a good day. This is my way of thanking you.” He smiled saying every word. 

"Well, thank you. Have you eaten dinner yet?" I asked. I really hope he says no. I would like to eat up my time with him, 

"I have not. I don't know what's around here outside of the subway next to my hotel." He said and I couldn't hide my blush or smile. "Well that and it's hard to enjoy a night out without people stopping and asking to take a picture with me." He added. 

"Well it might be a little forward of me but, if your open to it maybe we could order something and hang out at my hotel." I immediately felt like a creep. "I'm sorry I just thought that it would be private so you wouldn't have to deal with everyone else. I understand how creepy I must sound. I am really sorry.” I said and started to drink my whiskey again. 

"I actually would like that. That is if it's still an option." He said downing the rest of his drink. I sat therein shock. He said yes. Did I leave anything embarrassing out? I don't think I did. 

“Yeah let's go then. But, I get to pay for dinner." I said and saw him smile. I stood up and put my wallet in my pocket and double checked that my phone was still in my pocket. I made my way out of the bar with him following me. He stepped to the side of me and walked in tandem with me.  

"What did you want to eat?" He asked me. 

"I am up for anything what would you like to eat?" I asked. 

"I could also go for anything. Subway is right there we can go order really quick and take it there.” He offered. 

"Sure." I said and walked with him into subway. As we heard the chimes from he door one of the workers looked up from their phone. It was an hour until closing so it makes sense that they are not busy and have been on there phones. 

"Hello what can I get started for you today?" The worker asked. He motioned for me to go first.  

"I would like a six inch sub on italian herbs and cheese with pepper jack cheese toasted please." I said and she started to make the sandwich and put it in the toaster. 

"And for you Sir?" She asked Matthew. 

"I will just get the same thing she is getting to make it simple.” he said and she nodded. 

"Are you sure? I am about to get a really bland sandwich." I mentioned. 

"Yeah it will be fine." He said. 

Once the toaster was done I added ham and turkey, mayonnaise and mustard and that was it. She made sure both sandwiches were made the same way and walked us down to the checkout.  

"Alright did you want to add chips and a drink to your order today?" she asked. 

"Yes two large drinks and two chips." I said and walked over to the chip shelves they have and grabbed some of the cool ranch doritos and looked back at him to see what he wanted and he motioned for the same chips. I turned back around to grab the chips when I heard her ask him if it was going to be cash or card and he responded with card. When I turned around I quickly moved to his side and bumped him out of the way lightly. I pulled out my wallet and grabbed my card and used the tap to pay and put my card away. Matthew sighed and put his card back in his wallet. He grabbed the sandwich bag with our chips and I grabbed the cups. 

"What would you like to drink?" I asked him. He looked over his options for a moment. 

"A sprite is fine.” He said.  

I filled up both of our cups with ice and sprite and we headed out of the store. I walked him to the hotel next door and walked over to the elevator. He followed behind me. 

"This is your hotel?" he asked while looking at me. 

"yes it is why?” I asked. 

"This is also my hotel for the next couple of nights." He said. 

"That is pretty cool. At least when you get sick of hanging out with me it won't be a long walk to your hotel." I smiled. 

"I am sure I won't get sick of you.” He added. 

Well shit. That made me blush again. I hope he doesn't ditch me too soon. If I am Iucky he won't ditch me at all tonight. Once the elevator doors open up on the third floor I walk us over to my door. He grabbed one of the drinks from my hand in order to help me free up my hands to get my key card. I got my wallet out of my back pocket and opened it up and grabbed my key card. I tapped it on the door and it unlocked. I stepped into the room holding the door open for him.   

“Wow. It’s nice in your room. I mean it's nice in mine too but, I guess I just expect it to be different some how and it's not." He said. I giggled at his observation and sat on the bed and sat the drink on the end table. I grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. I flipped through the channels on the TV until I found a movie. It was Blended. Another good Adam Sandler movie.  

“Is this okay?” I asked him.  

“Yeah that’s a good movie. I have seem it many times and it makes me laugh every time.” He said still standing up. I pat the bed next to me as an indication to come sit down and he moved to that side of the bed and set his drink down on that end table. He sat the bag of food next to me and sat on the bed. He bent over and undid his shoes and then moved to lean against the headboard and propped his feet up on the bed. I grabbed the bag and handed him a sandwich. I pulled out my sandwich and opened it up. I took a bite and realized that maybe eating subway was a bad idea. I wrapped the sandwich up and put it on the end table. I took a drink and moved the chips to the end table too. A few minutes into the movie he was rolling his sandwich paper into a ball and threw it towards the garbage. He managed to make it in but, left the chips on the end table. He took a drink of his soda and put it back on the end table. He moved a little closer to the middle of the bed which meant he was closer to me. I took another drink myself and set it back down. I readjusted myself closer to the middle of the bed without trying to touch him.  

“Was your day good at least?” He asked me.  

“Yeah it was actually pretty good. It’s actually been my first relaxing day in a while.” I said.  

“Well that’s good. If this was your relaxing day what is a normal day for you?” He asked looking at me.  

“Well I’m a accounting major so I am mainly in the books as a full time job and on my free time I’m an author. I switch between writing romance books and fanfiction if I’m truly bored or need something to get rid of the writers block.” I said and smiled.  

“Well your day job sounds a bit boring and hard and if you write for fun in your free time does that mean you have something published? Even if fanfiction is your answer that technically counts.” He said chuckling towards the tail end of that.  

“I just published my first book a month ago. I haven’t advertised it the way I should. I am supposed to start advertising it this week during one of my days off. But, I am a bit nervous because I used a lot of real life inspiration behind it. Which means it can go one of two ways with the public. My day job is not boring it’s just not for everyone I suppose. I’m a numbers person. I enjoy doing mathematical stuff all day. It’s actually a bit relaxing for me.” I said.  

“Wow, a nerd at heart then. You don’t find that a lot these days.” He said with a big smile on his face.  

“I love being a nerd. It’s my favorite. I mean don’t get me wrong if I’m not working or writing, I’m reading or playing games. I prefer board games and card games over video games but, some times I play those too. Or I crochet. Which has become another favorite past time. I’m sorry I babble a lot.” I say now looking towards my hands.  

“It’s really okay. It’s nice to hear that you not entirely crazy. You know liking math is something that makes you crazy. Everything else makes you human. Well I mean the fanfiction is questionable. Depends on what you write about.” He laughed a little bit.  

“I mean I write it all. I have no shame about writing inappropriate things. My romance book is a dark romance. It’s full of erotic scenes. Which is why fanfiction sometimes helps me get past my writers block.” I add a little more honestly.  

“So does that mean you have written about me? Or any of the characters I have played?” He asked and looked at me with a big grin. I couldn’t look at him. A smile crept onto my face and I tried to cover my face quickly but he saw me blush right away.  

“You have written about me.” He started to laugh a little harder. “Okay, now was it me or a character or yes like all of the above?” He asked and I felt my cheeks get even more red. “Oh its been all of them. Can I read one? Or even two? Please? I just want to see what your writing style is like.” He said and my jaw dropped and I let my hands fall from my face.  

“Oh absolutely not. I may enjoy writing it but, I could never imagine you reading something I wrote. I knew there was always a chance you might see it one day but, having you read it directly next to me? I think I will pass. Absolutely not.” I said laughing through it nervously.  

“Maybe you could read it to me then? Skip the parts you don’t want me to know?” He asked again this time batting his eyes.  

“That would be the entire thing. No way. I would rather you read them by yourself. I couldn’t read that out loud to you.” I noted.  

“Are you shy about what you wrote or is it that filthy?” He smiled a bit at me. “What character of mine do you write the most about?” I know who I have written about more than enough times to tell him but, what does that say about me? Yes Stu might be my favorite but when writing scenes it’s always William afton. Something about the depiction is the best. Do I say it? Do I not? Oh my God. I think I’m going to say it.  

“If it’s not you as yourself then I guess it would be William Afton. Stu Matcher may be my favorite but writing wise it’s gotta be William Afton.” He laughed a bit at my response. 

“I am already embarrassed as is. You don’t have to laugh too.” I started to laugh myself to try and hide my blush but, it fails. I shrink back into the bed and hide my face with my hands and rest my head on the pillow.  

“Don’t be embarrassed everyone has their preference. But what is it about that character? Or me? Like what vibe do you get that you write about? I want to know if it’s accurate to what actually happens with me.” He asked.  

“I would say with you if your talking about the dynamic and style I would say your adaptive to your person. What ever they want you want to give them. So if the person your with wants a rough ride you give it to them or if they want soft or a mix that’s what you do. Now William I see him being more of a dominating person. The man that says get on your knees and take it or I’m going to make you take it kind of person. I don’t know I guess that’s what kind of vibe I get.” I say. I stand up and take my wallet and phone out of my back pocket and set it inside the drawer of the end table. I don’t need it right now anyway. I bent down and took off my shoes while I was at it and sat back on the bed next to him. My leg brushing against his leg.  

“You are so fucking tall. Your legs alone are a half a foot to a foot longer than mine.” I giggled.  

“Or you are just incredibly short. What are you 5’5?” He laughed and started to focus on the TV a bit more.  

“I wish I am 5’3 that two inches is much necessary for my height. It would make a difference to have an additional two inches somewhere.” I laughed and quickly realized how that must have sounded.  

“Oh god that sounded awful.” I started to laugh a bit too hard at my own wording. He started to crack up and patted my leg when he started to calm down. If only he had hit my thigh a little further up. The skin contact is much wanted.  

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get physical with you.” He said as he pulled his hand from my leg.  

“I didn’t mind one bit.” I said with a little grin on my face.  

“Alright missy. Calm down now. If I don’t get to read one then I’m not trying to create one.” He said and I immediately turned red. What did he just say? If he doesn’t get to read one then he isn’t trying to create one? Uhm yes please. I don’t know if he is teasing me but, maybe I can do it back and see how far it goes. 

“Oh don’t tempt me like that. I know when to stop being embarrassed and show off my writing when I’m threatened with a good time.” I smiled and looked towards the TV.  

“Then let me read one if you think you can do that.” He said and smiled towards the TV. I turned towards the end table and pulled my phone out. I unlocked it and opened up my tumblr and went to my latest fanfic about him and handed him my phone. It was a William Afton based one so this should be interesting. He grabbed my phone and started to read it. He is kind of like me in the sense of how ling it takes to read something. It took a minute before I saw him scrolling down. The ending is more or less the filthy part of it. The choking, gagging, ass smacking and grabbing. The bruising every aspect of it was utter filth. I enjoyed writing it. He started to shift a little as he was reading parts of it and I am trying my best to not stare at him while he reads. I kept trying to focus on the scene on front of me when Drew Barrymores character is putting makeup on the little blonde girl. He cleared his throat next to me so I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw he was towards the bottom already. He shifted again pulling at a pant leg. Almost like a readjustment but I didn’t want to assume. I started to get antsy because I knew he was done with the one at this point but he clicked off of that and started to read a second one. This one I knew was Stu Matchers. That one was a bit darker and more sadistic in nature. That one was bound to be more of a red flag about me if anything. A few more minutes pass before I look over and this time I notice him reading one about himself that I wrote. No character needed or necessary. It was just him. Being a rough person from behind and getting more adventures. He cleared his throat again before handing me back my phone.  

“I would say you definitely have a way with words. They are pretty good. I would also say you have the characters nearly spot on with what I think they would like. It’s interesting to know that I can convey it that way without having to I guess show it in that way.” He said again shifting and letting one of his legs off of the best and sitting himself further up.  

“Are you okay? You seem a bit restless?” I asked him.  

“Yeah I am fine. It’s just those were very detailed.” He said hiding a blush.  

“Oh so are you? I mean never mind.” I started to laugh. Uh oh. I did warn him I write that sort of material so this is his own fault. I looked over and his eyes were closed and he looked like he was trying his best to subside this new feeling in the room. I looked back at the TV and thankfully it was at another funny part so I started to laugh and put my hand on his thigh. I have seen this movie plenty of times to know even though it is funny I wouldn’t actually be laughing anymore. I felt the muscle in his thigh tighten and I gave it a light squeeze and just lightly pulled my hand off of his thigh.  

Once my hand left his leg he stood up. I pressed my luck to far. I knew it. Shit. He is going to bail. I should have left it as is. We were having a good time.   

“Please don’t start this. Don’t actually start this. It’s been awhile for me and I’m an incredibly lonely man in that sense. I am eating up all the attention you are giving me right now and you are half of my age. I have been alone for awhile now. All of my stuff is public so I am sure you know that I am completely alone and this attention. Yeah I’m loving every part of it but, of you start and I lean into it please don’t take it back.” He said looking at me talking with his hands. I saw the veins in his neck tighten a little and he was shifting his weight between his feet almost like he was rocking himself. I stood up and got close to him. I was only an arm distance away from where he was standing and I closed the gap.  

“I didn’t mean to start it but, I would really like to continue if you let me. I’m sure as hell not going to want to stop either.” I said reaching out for him. He was in a standard  black t-shirt and washed our blue jeans. I started to play with the hem of his shirt while looking at the bottom of it. I wanted to try and take his shirt off of him but, before I could I felt his right hand touch my neck. He added a little force to the back of my neck and pulled me the rest of the way toward him and looked down towards me and forced my head to look up towards him. He closed the gap and leaned down and kissed me. It wasn’t something cheesy. It wasn’t magical it was full of lust and desire. Right in this moment he wanted this as badly as I did.  

He let his tongue slowly glide against my bottom lip and I opened my mouth a little more for him. He deepened the kiss a little more and his left hand started to rest on my waist. I felt a little pressure coming from his left hand and realized the was trying to push me backwards towards the bed. I kept my footing and again made an attempt to take his shirt off again. This time I was more successful. He pulled away from me and pulled his shirt over his head. He reached for my shirt and pulled it off of me. He closed the gap between us again and started kissing me again pulling at the button on my shorts. He managed to get the button undone and he attempted to push them down around my hips but I stopped him. I pushed him away from me slightly and pulled my shorts off myself. while I was down there I also took off my socks. In a swift movement I fell down onto my knees and undid his pants and pulled them down to his ankles and he kicked them off along with his socks. 

| pulled him closer to me and slowly ran my fingers up his thigh and stopped both my hands when they got to his hips. I moved my right hand to his penis and gripped it at the base.  

"You don't have to- " He started to say but. I cut him off by lightly licking the tip of his cock and circling my tongue around the head of his penis. Wrapping my lips around the head once I was done enjoying the moan it pulled from him.  

"Fuck me.” He mumbled in a low moan. 

That's what is egging me on right now. What an amazing sound. I wonder what sound I will get from him when I do this. I slowly move my head in a back and forth motion and finally thrust my head forward and bury his cock down my throat making me gag a little as I get to the base of his cock. I ran my tongue out past my bottom lip and lick his balls as best as I can. A growl escapes the back of his throat and a moan follows as his hands rush to the back of my head holding it there. He is by no means a small or average sized man. I just buried at least eight to nine inches down my throat. 

“Fuck, fuck, okay" He said with a moan following each word. He finally released the grip from my head and reached for my arm and pulled me up towards him. He leaned down and started to kiss me again this time pushing me back into the bed. 

"My turn. Crawl up to the middle of the bed.” He said in a hushed tone. I immediately shifted my weight onto my arms and pulled myself to the middle of the bed and watched him follow.  

“Hand me a pillow.” He motioned for a pillow beside my head and I gave him one. He crawled between my legs and pulled my waist up and plopped the pillow under it and my ass. He got back off of the bed and laid directly in front of me on his stomach with his head between my legs. I didn’t prepare for this. I had stubble on my vagina. I was not prepared for it to have a conversation with anyone.  

 “Fuck you look so good.” He said. I thought I was going to swoon harder. Before I could give an honest attempt to try and stop him from dining in on my pussy he dove right in. He glided his tongue up against my labias and wrapped his lips around them biting them lightly. He repeated the motion a couple of times before running his tongue flat against my clit. I threw my head back at the feeling and a deep moan escaped from me. One I have never made before. He continued the three motions before humming against my clit and drawing circles and the alphabet on it. He bit down on my clit which felt so good I reached down and slid my fingers into his hair and held him at that spot to have him do it again.  

“Oh fuck. That feels really good." I said. Talking isn’t my strong suit during sex. He hummed against my clit again and I felt his left hand leave my right thigh. He nibbled on my clit again and started to push a finger in from his left hand. Fuck. I can tell how he has barely gotten to his first knuckle. He started licking and massaging my clit more as he got to his second knuckle and another bite when he got to his third knuckle. He thrusted that finger in and out of me until I could no longer feel every detail of his finger and then he added a second and went again. I felt dangerously close to an orgasm already. He started to move the two fingers inside of me in an up and down motion against the softer part of the top of my pussy. It felt like it was on the other side of my clit. That's a new feeling. 

"Fuck. Oh fuck." I said panting and moaning between each word. There is a lot of pressure building up against me right now. 

"Oh god. Fuck me." I can't stop whats about to happen. It feels like waves are crashing down. I get louder with the moans and I start to fell like I soaked my bed all of a sudden. What the fuck was that?  

"Fuck me that was so fucking hot.” Matthew said and crawled up so he was now hovering over me. He leaned down and started to kiss me again. 

" Damn it." He said. "I don't think I have a condom." He mentioned.  

"I don't have one but, I am clean and l have an IUD as birth control. I am not going to get pregnant. I'm good with this if you are.” I said and he looked at me. I can't read his expression right now. 

" If not I can go back to su- " I was in the middle of my sentence when he cut me off by kissing me again. He rested his weight on his left arm and lined himself up with my vagina. He slowly started to thrust into me and the thickness of his cock started to stretch me open. 

"Oh fuck." My eyes closed and my head fell further back onto the pillow. 

"Fuck you are so tight around me” He moaned out.  

I could feel the tip just barely get past the opening. As he thrusted further I could feel the veins on his cock. He kept going slow until I felt his balls against my ass and his head dropped down to my neck. He started to pull his cock out and when the tip felt the breeze from inside the room he thrusted himself inside the deeper and faster. He continued to be rough with me on my back.  

"Wait – Please wait." I panted out. 

"Can I get into a better position for this Please?" I asked. He crawled off of me and readjusted myself on all fours in front of him. I fucking love doggy style. I felt his hand lightly trace my ass before taking it off. I felt it come back down with force across it and a deep moan came out of me. He positioned himself back into me. Now resting his hands on my hips. He started to thrust forward into me but pulling my hips into him forcing his cock even deeper inside of me. I bit my lip to keep from screaming out.  

"Fuck you feel so damn good!" He said between thrusts. He moved his right hand to the small of my back and put his left hand into my hair and pulled me to sit up against him. 

“Who am I right now in your mind darling ?" He asked holding me against him.  

" You are you. Matthew." I said not really sure what he means. 

"Try again" He thrusted harder into me. Moving his left hand from my hair to my throat squeezing it. 

"Who are you fucking right now darling? Tell me." He said repeatedly slamming into me. His grip on my throat getting stronger. As he slams back into me his right hand snakes around the front of me and starts massaging my clit. Oh fuck he is hitting that spot again.  

"Tell me." He moans into my ear nibbling it. 

"William Afton." I say moaning it out. The last scene I wrote on the fanfic. I get it now. 

"It got me so hard." He thrusted into me again. The feeling coming back of a wave crashing was just a thrust away. 

"Lay on your back. I want to see what you look like when you squirt around my cock." 

He pulled out of me and I immediately laid on my back opening my legs for him. He quickly repositioned himself again and thrusted into me and found the right spot, He started thrusting against it hard and fast and within seconds I felt my toes curl.  Oh fuck. Oh god. I started to shake a little under him. 

"That's it. Squirt all over my cock." He moaned into my ear and bit down on my neck.  

"Oh fuck." I felt every gush leave my body. 

"Oh fuck yes. I am going to cum." He moaned into my ear his pace picking up. He moaned really loud and I started to feel every drop fill me up. I had a smaller orgasm at the feeling. I grinded a little against him to get the last bit of friction I so desperately wanted. 

"Oh god. That was amazing. Thank you."  He said and slowly pulled himself out of me hissing as it finally felt the cold air again. I can't believe that just happened. He rolled off of me and onto his back.  

I went to sit up but immediately felt sore. Fuck the button half of me hurts. 

"Let me help you." He said and got up. He walked into the bathroom and grabbed a new wash cloth and wet it. He brought it back into the room and wiped up the mess he made between my legs.  

"Fuck, that was cold." I said and laughed. He smiled and put the ray back in the bathroom but on the floor of the bathtub so it didn't make another mess. He walked back over to the bed and got under the covers next to me. 

“Would it upset you if I stayed a little longer?" He asked.  

"Not at all. Sleep here if you want. I am sleeping right here. I think you broke me so I am not moving." 

"So was that what you expected?" He asked rolling on his side to face me. 

"Oh it was a million times better. Best sex I have ever had. I didn't even know I was a squirter." I said and he smiled. He snaked his arm around me and pulled me up so my head was now on a pillow but even better I was cuddled up against his chest. 

"Get some sleep. I am going to wake you up to get coffee in the morning and you can hang with me for the day if you want." He said. 

“Sounds like its going to be another painful but wonderful day." I gave him a cheeky grin and he smiled back at me. 

"Goodnight" He said 

"Goodnight see you in the morning handsome." I said and saw him blush again before I fell asleep in his arms. 

~Hella Cheesy I know I am Just getting back into fanfic writing give me a break Please.~ 

#fanfic #smut #william afton #matthew lillard #ghostface #fnaf #female reader #fluff

[autistic-evil-xisuma]

ok. sorry to post discourse here but continuing to quietly seethe about it is unproductive & will eventually make me explode. so.

here is why I have come to really hate the cane user goodtimeswithscar headcanon!

(first of all, a disclaimer; I'm aware that Scar doesn't care about people portraying him in fanworks with or without his irl disability. I'm not white knighting for him. This rant is on the behalf of myself & my disabled friends who have similar feelings on it.)

Because Scar is disabled in real life, a lot of fans also want to portray his character as disabled in fanart too. Which is awesome! not a bad thing!

It is difficult though. Scar, playing Minecraft, is piloting an effectively able-bodied character. With his disability & the tech available in real life, IRL-Scar wouldn't be able to navigate the world the way he does in game.

To portray character-Scar as disabled in the same way he is in real life would be to massively change how Hermitcraft and Minecraft as a game function. Which I think I've seen some people figure out how to do! Which is awesome! But obviously, it's not an easy thing to do.

So it seems that the thought process of many artists is, okay, so I can't make him as disabled as he is in real life. But I still want to portray him as disabled for representation!

So boom, a cane, a simple and obvious visual indicator of disability to draw character-Scar with! ...which doesn't require thinking about how his disability would impact him in-world, at all.

Of the people who do this, I've only once seen anyone talk about about what Scar's disability is, how it affects his life, how he functions with it and how it limits him. I hope it's needless to say that if you haven't put any thought into how a character is disabled, then... that isn't a disabled character.

Beyond that, many artists who draw Scar as a cane user will only include it when it's easy. It's not so simple to mine, or build, or have an archer superhero persona, or run around the server in general with a cane. So as soon as the context makes it inconvenient, the cane is gone, making it essentially a prop, not a genuine disability aid. (Of course, there are ambulatory cane users. But it's real obvious if the cane being there or not in art is completely based on convenience.)

When the headcanon is used like this, it isn't to show a genuinely disabled character. It's just for the look of one, which can be forgotten whenever it doesn't suit the context.

Scar is a very popular character. And this headcanon is getting more and more common. There isn't any getting away from it short of blocking Scar tags entirely. The constant message I feel like I'm getting from this fandom is that cane users — like myself — are just the version of disability that's easier to ignore.

I know people who do this aren't trying to cause harm, or purposefully being ableist. But it still is. Giving a character the watered-down aesthetic of disability while still being effectively able bodied isn't representation. It sucks, and imo it's better to portray Scar as non-disabled than to do this.

(And yes, I know this isn't always how it goes. Some people who headcanon Scar as a cane user do write him as genuinely disabled, especially people who are projecting their own disability. No salt to them, this isn't who the post is directed at.)

So. my points are these, I guess.

please. please don't just slap a cane on your Scar design and go Yay representation! it doesn't work like that.

In general, if you want to write or draw a disabled character, you need to spend time thinking about what their disability is and how it impacts their life. And show it.

If you're going to take away a character's disability whenever it isn't convenient then just. don't make a disabled character at all.

#sorry. im angry and exhausted. #discourse #scar #goodtimeswithscar #the tag is big enough they can handle me maintagging this. #hermitcraft discourse #ableism #fandom ableism #TBH. i see people do this with his wheelchair too. which is just as bad #but i do think its more common with the cane and also i need to let this post go or ill be here forever #🌙

[unlikelyfandomkidd]

Making Sense of the One Piece Universe (Except Not)

Even if not many people see him as such, Sir Crocodile is disabled rep. Specifically rep of amputees/prosthetic users. And with that representation comes questions. Questions about how the One Piece Universe works when it comes to disabled individuals.

In the Impel Down arc when we are re-introduced to many of the reoccurring villains, they are stripped down to practically nothing. Not even wearing real shoes in the prison. As the prison is one known for it's brutality, finality and all around horribleness.

However despite that... Crocodile is allowed to keep his prosthetic hand. Now I know it's a hook, but it is still a prosthetic. So this offers a few options of what could have occured between the events of Crocodile being put in Impel Down and escaping.

(I mean in-universe reasons. The actual, out of universe reasoning is most likely that his prosthetic is one of his most identifiable features. And that keeping it while he was in his drab prison garb would make him easier to spot.)

However for in universe reasons we have:

HOWEVER there are still two other options!

One- Crocodile has so many connections or is so intimidating that the guards just let him keep the prosthetic. Is this a totally reasonable and fitting within canon option? Yeah absolutely. Crocodile was an incredibly powerful man with billions of underlings and people working for him. Had a business that spanned entire countries and even it could be considered continents. However I doubt this would be the case as to why he kept his prosthetic.

While yes the world government is very susceptible to corruption and shady business, I feel like Impel Down is the one place that it's pretty straightforward. I mean it's basically that Universe's version of a high security, death row inmate prison. You're not gonna be there long, because you're set to hang for your crimes anyway. So even if you could pay off of a few guards, I doubt that would matter in your short time of staying there.

So there is only one option that would fit the events in Canon and could explain why such a thing would happen. (In my opinion ofc)

Option Two - it is a surgically implanted prosthetic that cannot be removed without causing serious damage to the arm/Crocodile. Again a very viable option that would make sense. Except for the fact that a giant, gold hook filled with poison and knives is very inconvenient for day to day life. Like does it make him look cool and badass? Yes it does! But I doubt he's sleeping well with a ten pound hold/gold alloy hunk is tugging at his (most likely sensitive and stitched up) arm stump.

There is a One Piece universe version of the ADA (or any other group/law that gives disabled people their rights). And that group provided a representative/lawyer for Crocodile while imprisoned.

Option three:

Since it can be removed and the world government are a bunch of jackasses it would make sense that they would confiscate any and items including prosthetics and leave him to rot. I mean it's been shown time and time again that they keep things hush hush and just brush them under the rug.

However with a representative of a disabled rights centered legal group, it could have argued that he needs a prosthetic. And that withholding it would be an unreasonably cruel punishment and completely unjustified.

Thus the One Piece ADA would argue that Crocodile needs this specific prosthetic. BECAUSE he already has it, making no need for the government to take any money out of their pockets to order a new, less dangerous one. As well as taking into account the sheer size of Crocodile (well over 8 feet tall and probably around 200+ pounds at his lightest). And making the connection that his specific prosthetic is probably one of the only ones in the world that can A. Fit him and B. Work with his body comfortably and safely.

Which of course Impel Down/the staff could have fitted him with a more natural, less dangerous prosthetic. But seeing the size of Crocodile and his prosthetic, that's highly unlikely. The amount of money, time, man power and y'know obvious dangers of moving such a time sensitive object wouldn't make any sense and wouldn't be convenient for anyone involved.

Anyway this is probably completely incomprehensible rambling but I wanted to put my thoughts out there in case anyone else felt that way.

I just feel like sometimes the fandom (specifically on here) really only treat Crocodile's disability as an aesthetic/punchline so I wanted to put my two cents in the ring on how such a disability could effect him in such a magical and unbelievable world.

#one piece strawhats #one piece #crocodile one piece #one piece crocodile #op crocodile #sir crocodile #crocodile #mr. zero #mr. 0 #alabasta #arabasta #impel down #one piece headcanons #one piece theory #one piece thoughts

[but-the-library-of-alexandria]

Affirmations for chronic illness/disability:

you are always entitled to the same allowances any sick person would be, no matter how long you're sick for

you are entitled to the same allowances EVEN IF the reason you're sick is "'"your fault"'" (eg. you stayed up late or ate a trigger food) - you do not have to punish yourself for that

if sparing others the inconvenience of making accommodations for you causes an equal or greater amount of inconvenience or harm to YOU, you are actually adding to the overall amount of unhappiness in the world, not doing a good deed. your suffering is worth exactly the same as anyone else's

if your reason for doing something is 'because I'll get sick if I don't', no further justification is needed

most people really like being able to help someone else out; asking for help gives someone an opportunity to feel good about themselves

it's never a good idea to do anything just for appearances' sake, and this is ten times truer if you're sick

your body is your own, and you're allowed to make whatever choices you want about when to push yourself and when to rest, regardless of other people's opinions

every time you allow yourself to be visibly or openly disabled/unwell, you're making space for the people around you to be open and unashamed about their own health needs

you can't know in advance how a decision is going to pan out - if you push yourself and regret it, or if you take extra care and realise you didn't need it, that doesn't mean your decision was wrong, and even if WAS wrong, you don't have to get it right every time

unfair as it feels, it is ultimately your responsibility to assess and declare your needs - irrational resentment can come up, but remember that it's unreasonable to expect other people to know how you feel or what you need without you telling them

if self care is beginning to feel more stressful than restful, ask yourself if you're trying to get better for your own sake or for other peoples' convenience

what is helpful for you is for you to discover and for others to accept, even if it doesn't align with their ideas of what's good for sick people (exercise will make me sicker lol sorry armchair physios)

grieve the life you thought you'd have, then find some joy in the one you have now (then grieve again then find joy again in a circle forever because that's literally what being alive is lmao)

try not to tell people 'it's okay' unless it's actually okay - and when it IS actually okay, take a moment to receive that message yourself as well as telling it to other people

it's never your fault, you never deserve it, you're not the problem. no not even you. no exceptions. idc what you did you still deserve good health

I promise you your worth and identity is in no way related to whether you clean the bathroom today

#and of course don't forget the Golden Tenet: you're allowed to do whatever you want forever #the last one is a self-call-out #the bathroom is so dirty but I. am so sleep deprived #chronic illness #disability #elise's posts

[curiouslyattractivefishman]

DMC Questions Anon here!

How does the DMC cast respond to April Fools day? Do they participate? Have they ever participated? Will they? What sort of pranks do they play?

AAAAAAAA OK OK

Dante: Yes, he participates, but I think he is a bad prankster. He is. not good. His idea of an april fools prank (at least to me) is “Hey guys, lets get something to eat! How are we feeling about chinese?” and then he orders pizza. He’s lame, but its okay. He’s done this every April fools, throw the tomatoes.

Vergil: has the ability to make great pranks, but he doesn’t. He thinks it’s impractical and refuses to participate, especially with Dante’s horrible “pranks.” He’s slightly more on edge than usual. He has never participated and never will

Nero: Doesn’t participate, but he isn’t against anything like Vergil is. He thinks its childish, but he would be willing to help out, he’d just not be the one personally setting anything up. He’s participated before, and can be persuaded into doing it again.

Trish: Has never participated, and if she does pull pranks, I don’t think she’d outwardly say when she’s pranked somebody. Her pranks are more just minor inconveniences; hiding clothes, misplacing keys, ect. She’d do anything, so long as theres no proof to trace it back to her, and as long as it’s not actually hurting anyone. Lady; on the other hand.

Lady: Has participated, and will for the rest of her life. I feel like Lady would only do pranks that fuck with you. She’d move every furniture piece that isnt nailed down 2 inches to the left, just so you can tell something is wrong, but you can’t put a finger on it. She’d play the long game (she prepared) and if you had pictures in frames lying around; she’d make copies and photoshop them until there’s just something wrong about them that you can quite place, but you can DEFINITELY tell.

Nico: Nico is the fucking worst. She does the saran wrap on the toilet, has a bunch of fake spiders and cockroaches, puts a bullion cube in the shower head, zipties shopping carts to people’s car doors. She’s awful. She’s been doing this forever and does not plan on stopping.

Patty: Patty… hm. Patty is the person completely redecorate your house without consent. (she has canonically done this). I think she would place stuffed animals on every chair in your house, and you just have to move them over to sit down.

Lucia: Has not participated, will not participate, but she likes to just sit back and watch :)

Kyrie: Doesn’t participate, has never participated, only acts as a mediator for when someone inevitably gets into a fight. I do think she’s also the type to not spoil the fun, so long as it’s harmless. Nobody pranks her, too, Nico did the water bucket on a door trick once and felt bad (after nero yelled at her.)

- now the reboots 😈

Reboot Dante: God this motherfucker is the worst. “It’s just a prank bro!” Area man says after mentally/physically fucking you over constantly. He unscrews the salt lids, switches salt containers with the sugar containers, puts soy sauce in coca cola, empties out your fridge, turns the water pressure in your shower all the way up and the water heater off. Yeah. Fuck this dude. I’d say he hasn’t really had anyone to spend April Fools Day with, apart from his time in the orphanage, so no, he never actually participated, but once he grows some semblance of stability in his life, its all out war. This, constantly, All month. “It’s APRIL fools!”

Reboot Vergil: Hadn’t really participated April Fools Day, but if Dante’s around, he is rearing and ready to go. Dante wants to fuck around? he’s gonna find out. No holds barred. He takes it WAYYY to far. if Dante went a mile; he goes around the world. Any possession Dante had?(like, 5.) Gone. Electronics/Accounts he had? Hacked, permanently disabled.

Kat: Doesn’t celebrate it, and probably never will. Like Kyrie, she gets in between the boys, after their full on “prank” war, someone needs to hold them back. Give this girl a break.

#dmc #Devil May Cry #asks

[infinitenicknames]

Partially Deaf/Hard of Hearing Prefect

A/N: Purely self indulgent and based off of my own hearing loss called a cookie bite and my experiences with it. I can’t speak for everyone but this is how this stuff usually goes for me

Grim

finds out within the first day, whether you want him to or not

you thought you were alone in Ramshackle. How were you to know he’d come up from behind you and try to talk to you?

he’s PISSED when you don’t respond to his remarks and almost sets you on fire

when he finally does catch your attention he starts badgering you about why you were ignoring the Great Grim

you eventually calm him down enough to explain that you took your hearing aids off for the night so you couldn’t hear him at all

Grim is confused and you have to go into the whole speech about how you’re missing part of your hearing and need devices to help you with it or how you can read lips to understand people

Grim actually feels pretty bad about it. He’s probably never dealt with any sort of disability before so he’d probably not know how to handle it or how to help you

“No, yelling at me won’t fix the problem Grim. Use your inside voice. You’re going to wake the dead again”

He’d eventually figure out that you can still hear high stuff, he’d definitely shriek to get your attention when you don’t have your hearing aids on no matter how much it annoys you (if people didn’t think Ramshackle was haunted before, the high pitched wails coming from there occasionally throughout the night definitely has them convinced now)

Once you figure out a system however, he’d definitely become your lifeline at school. Lectures are NOT a deaf person’s friend. Whether that means repeating what somebody said to make sure you got it or mouthing along with the things people say so you can read his lips, Grim will do what he can to help his little hench human. Just make sure to feed him some tuna afterwards

Ramshackle Ghosts

Ghosts are often portrayed as messing with technology like with staticky TVs, so I’d imagine these three would be a feedback NIGHTMARE

Even if you’d normally wear your hearing aids around the house, that’d go right of the window with these three. You’d know they’re in the same room by the telltale squeal your hearing aids make

They don’t mean harm, it’s just their spectral nature

Rip to you trying to interact with any of the ghost staff actually. Lunch time is probably also a nightmare with the kitchen staff

Once they know of your hearing loss, the ghosts start helping you out with things you might not be able to hear, like someone knocking on the door for example

You eventually offer to teach them what sign language you know that way you can communicate more without you needing to rely on reading their lips so much (do ghosts even have lips???)

Grim eventually gets dragged into your lessons too and soon it becomes a Ramshackle requirement to attend these classes of yours, even if you’re just staying for a night

Sam

LITERAL LIFE SAVER

If I know ANYTHING about healthcare/disability assistance is that it’s as inconvenient and as cumbersome as possible AKA hearing aid batteries in Twisted Wonderland would definitely be under a totally different labeling system than our world I can just feel it in my bones

Sam would help you figure out what batteries you needed for your make and model of hearing aid, spending well over an hour trying out every battery type just to figure out which one fit. After that he’d start keeping them in stock just for you

He’d even help replace the maintenance stuff you need like brushes, stabilizers, wax caps, and all of those fun little goodies that you left in your own world

Like I said, literal life saver here

I feel like he’d be pretty attentive to you too, like making sure to speak slow and clearly for you any time to drop by to shop a bit

10/10 would shop here forever if I could

Deuce Spade

Probably the first of the student’s I’d open up to tbh. he seems pretty safe for this kind of stuff. You’d have to broach the topic yourself though. I’m not sure if he would notice your hearing loss at all.

It’d probably just come up naturally while you’re walking in between classes. You're both talking about things you struggle with and you slip in that you're losing your hearing so listening in class can be tough some times

He’d probably have a mini heart attack at first if he doesn’t immediately blue screen

You can’t hear him? Like at all??? Wait, no, you can hear, just not voices. Wait, you can hear some voices, just not all voices????? That’s confusing

At the same time though he knows why you were "ignoring" him the other day so that's good

He'd let you copy his notes if you missed anything in class or explains anything you couldn’t hear! Just remember they're Deuce's notes and try not to put any more academic pressure on him than he’s already doing

Tries to be more conscious about making sure you can understand him when your chatting. Might try to get loud sometimes but he'll quickly corrects himself once you tell him that doesn't really help you all that much

Tries to learn sign language for you, but studying... is not his strong suit. He'll definitely pick up a few words though so don't give up on him! Just remember to sign s l o w l y at first

If you teach him to knock/stomp to get your attention he'd probably be pretty rough about it. I'd fear for Ramshackle's floor boards cause this man can be strong when he wants to be

All in all a good egg who's doing his best

Ace Trappola

2/10, would not recommend

I like Ace but he’s a mischief creator, a problem haver, and a trouble maker

He’d probably find out that you’re deaf by making fun of the way you say something 

he'd think you're just goofing, but his words really hit a nerve

you’re not trying to be wrong. You’re trying really hard to figure it out! Could he at least give you a helping hand here instead of laughing at you?

his laughter eventually pushes you over the edge and you snap at him, saying you didn’t ask to be deaf so you’re “sorry” if your voice is a little strange! You’re trying your best here with what little hearing you have left!

Ace is definitely taken aback by your sudden out burst and even more so about this disability he knew nothing about

He checks in with Grim and Deuce before realizing how much of a jerk he was being. He’d still probably drag his feet a bit before apologizing (i mean, this is Ace we’re talking about here), but once he does apologize he’d totally change his tune

He’d still poke fun at you on occasion, but he’d know not to push you so far anymore

If anyone did make fun of you or the way you spoke, Ace would definitely rally the boys to hunt down who ever made fun of you. Only one person is allowed to tease you and that’s him

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland y/n #reader #twisted wonderland x reader #deaf #hard of hearing #grim twisted wonderland #sam twisted wonderland #deuce spade #deuce space x reader #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader

[drdemonprince]

I am a cybersecurity expert with 14 years in banking. I think your article is right that neurodivergents (like me) May experience disproportionate exclusion because of MFA however, your analysis would have been much improved if it considered that the very groups you cite, which include elderly and disabled, are also disproportionately impacted by elder fraud and fraud in general. It’s important to parse detail here. All controls have a friction cost.

I think we need to move away from the adage that security and accessibility are a zero sum game -- there are some comments in the main post from people who work in tech and security to that effect.

I think one of the reasons that elders and disabled people are so vulnerable to fraud is their isolation, and that making technology and aspects of public life harder to access for them doesn't help that in the least. If you can't figure out how to login to your bank account on your own, you're more likely to fall for the probing of a syrupy voiced "helpful" stranger on the phone, if anything.

I think many people believe these groups instead are vulnerable to fraud because they're unintelligent or lacking in certain abilities, and that belief feeds into the flawed common sense notion that keeping a platform secure and keeping it accessible must be competing forces. It can't be this way. Disabled people are not some inconvenient afterthought, and if a system doesn't work once they are taken into account, it's not a well developed system.

I'm not an expert in security or in tech so I focused on the area I am knowledgeable about, identifying a specific problem -- not all problems. The problem you've mentioned is a very real one to be sure. I'd love if people with relevant expertise would like to expand upon it, especially probing potential solutions or alternatives, because it's truly not my area.

[crimeronan]

I feel like I would consider myself polyamory agnostic in a way, like I would maybe like for it to happen but I often fear that I don't have the ability to manage even one partnership, let alone multiple relationships, since I am often. So tired. I often find myself idealizing the "late" stage of a relationship when everyone already has settled into what to expect of each other and knows not to take it personally if someone falls asleep mid movie, for example. All this to say, how do you handle your relationship structure as a disabled/chronically ill person? Do you have any advice/thoughts on how it works for you? (I feel like perhaps you have posted about this before and I am just forgetting...)

oh this is a really good question! i'm not sure how relevant my life experience will be to you, particularly given that i started dating all three of my current partners before becoming disabled/crippled. but i am happy to share!

first off -- i 100% get romanticizing the late stage of relationships, sometimes you just need things to be chill and flexible. but i also don't think that this stage necessarily Needs to be reserved for Late Relationships?

like.... the older i get, the more upfront i've decided to be about my needs, especially with new people. granted, a lot of the people i meet these days are either disabled themselves or Get It -- my social circle is mostly queer spoonies in their 20s and 30s + much much older retirees that i hang out with at the local pool.

some people prefer not to be so open so quickly about their limitations, it is hard and scary to be visibly disabled, harder still to ask for help & admit that you might be inconvenient / a burden / take up extra space. this USED to be me until i said. eh. fuck it. after a certain point, wounded pride is just a mental construct

basically, like. when i'm online these days, you'll see me be clear about my limits with strangers - i'll say that if i stop replying to chats or asks, it's not bc i hate you, it's bc i'm tired or forgetful. that i can't guarantee responses to ppl, even people i'm already friendly with. that if my mood is bad or my pain levels are high, i won't engage in much social interaction at All. that my capabilities fluctuate wildly depending on the day and that i cannot be relied upon for consistent scheduling or posting or creative output

i'm similarly open with people irl. it helps that i'm often using mobility aids when i'm talking to people. the mobility aids sorta strip the possibility of pretending not to be disabled. it's kinda the elephant in the room. but it means that i can be like, "as you can see, i am very crippled. i may need flexibility with any plans that we make. due to being very crippled."

if people get upset by this or simply don't have the capacity to deal with it, that is fine! that's not either of our faults, no one's done anything wrong, we're just not in the right circumstances to mesh. i don't get hurt by that personally. i've honestly found that it saves SO much time and hassle and potential drama/heartache to set expectations right away. the only other option is to exhaust myself and end up failing to meet expectations regardless and losing the friendship after burning up a bunch of energy and social bridges. painful and bad!

so like... i can meet a new person, and if they're cool with My Whole Deal, then there's no waiting period before we're familiar enough for flaky behavior. i can be like, "i'm not sure i'll be able to walk tonight, is there a place to sit down at the event?" or "i'm flaring a little, is it okay for us to be kinda flexible about tomorrow's schedule?" or "hey, i'll get back to you as soon as possible i promise, i'm just fogged TO SHIT today [peace sign]" from day 1. it's great

i'm not saying that you Have to do this; i am aware that it breaches like seventeen laws of general social etiquette. i'm just saying that i have met many people who are totally chill about this! as long as you're chill and respectful of the other person as well, you can do whatever you want forever

that was not even relevant to the initial ask, so. AS FOR MY PARTNERS.

i actually don't find that my illness makes it harder to navigate my relationships at all. like i mentioned, i've been with all three partners for Many Many Years now. we know each other Extremely well, we're all extremely turbo autistic, we all have blunt communication down to a science. so saying "i'm not up for doing [x thing] tonight, can we take a rain check?" is super easy.

in fact, my partners can basically intuit a flare from just my physical movements and tone of voice, even before i say a single word. we are VERY familiar with each other.

.....and, alright. after fighting the urge to longpost i've decided to put the rest under a cut. YOU'RE WELCOME 4 THE RETURN OF YOUR DASHBOARDS. "why didnt you put it under a cut so much earlier" read my posts boy

anyway. click readmore to hear me expand upon just how fucking incredible and awesome and kind and generous and loving my People are

there ARE some ways that the illness has made it more difficult for ME to be the kind of partner that i want to be -- for example, i often lack the energy to provide proper emotional support during stressful situations, i have a shorter threshold for pain/irritation than i used to, i can't give 100% of my energy anymore and there have been times when that has resulted in hurt feelings in my partners.

(there have been far more times, though, when nobody's feelings are hurt and it's literally fine.)

in every case where feelings DID get hurt, we've talked stuff out and fixed it within like an hour. bc we all trust each other and know that we don't WANT to hurt each other's feelings. i never ever Ever say things with the intention of wounding my partners, and they know that. they never say things with the intention of wounding me, either, which is why our very blunt "hey, you need to change something you're doing" convos go so well. there's no need to tiptoe, it doesn't hurt me to know what they're thinking or feeling or needing.

sometimes things are just hard and shitty and we're all doing the best we can. this is just part of adulthood i think. especially adulthood in late stage capitalism, etc. the Biggest key to my polycule is that we are all much happier as a family than we would be without each other. the relationships are about as wholesome and healthy and non-toxic and openly communicative as they can get

the Other key aspect when dealing with my illness is that.... being polyamorous has actually been... SOOOOOO MUCH BETTER than being 1) alone, OR 2) in a monogamous relationship EVER WOULD BE?

it is Extremely Stressful for my family to deal with me being this sick. i am aware of that. but i haven't had to bear the brunt of it. not only do they support me, but they also all communicate with and support each other. so no one person is bearing the entire weight of the stress or pain or fear. and i don't have to comfort people over my own symptoms, which most disabled ppl i think would agree is.... exhausting

when i'm too fucked up to speak aloud, let alone support my partners the way i usually do, they ALWAYS have EACH OTHER as a safety net.

this safety net has been beyond vital for me personally, too. round-the-clock care from a single partner is insane and exhausting and leads to unraveling tempers. but when you live with two partners who can help cover your chores and cook and make sure you don't die of your Symptoms (TM)? that's much more doable.

it's HARD, bc literally everyone in the house is disabled to some degree, but it's doable. (it being hard is part of why my QPR is going to move in with us soon. extra hands!)

a few weeks ago, rafi (partner of 7ish years) went on a short vacation to visit family in california. and justice (QPR of 3ish years, best friend of 8ish years) booked an impromptu next-day plane ticket to come stay with me and vi (partner of 11ish years) while rafi was gone. because i was Very Sick. i was flaring horribly the whole time she was here, and she made meals and cleaned and ran errands and picked up medications and returned phone calls and lay in bed with me watching low-stakes tv shows and made sure i didn't stroke out without anyone there to help.

this meant that i basically got to stay in bed the whole time, which was very very Very needed. and vi -- who has a bad back -- wasn't unduly taxed with Literally All of the household upkeep in rafi's absence.

the same principle has applied when i've needed my partners to help cover my share of bills or my household chores or my errands or whatever. since there are three other people involved, the Immediate Support Net is much wider than in a monogamous relationship. especially bc all three of them have their own familial and friend support networks to reach out to!

having more people around is actually awesome for me. i don't feel like i'm expending a lot more energy than i would in a monogamous relationship, but i AM receiving a TON more support and care and love than would be possible in a monogamous relationship.

i guess the conclusion i'd make is: no man is an island, humans are hardwired to build large social support groups, and in a good relationship, you'll receive At Least as much as you give. right now i'm receiving a SHIT TON MORE than i give, and i do often feel pretty bad about it despite knowing it's not my fault.

but these people have chosen to be my family. and if they ever want to stop choosing me then they absolutely can. and if they need more from me or they need something Different from me, then they'll literally just tell me.

(i know they will literally just tell me because all three of them have literally just told me in the past. they're three people i can implicitly trust to say things like "hey, this thing you said made me sad / was unhelpful" and "hey, i'm really stressed out about [x thing], can we make a plan to deal with it?" and "hey, this situation is pretty serious and i know that you don't want to face it but i really need you to. i will take on whatever i can for you and support you the whole time")

so: yes it has been hard to some extent, managing three relationships while also being sick. but it is also a wonderful setup with a million unthought-of advantages & i am much better cared-for and much better AT caring because of it & i fucking Shudder to think how horrific being sick would be without them.

i love my family so much.

#long post #replies #polyamory #this barely scratches the surface bc it's just a few examples of how our dynamics work but hopefully it is clarifying #polyamory is an advantage that has saved my Entire Ass. my partners are wonderful. #all relationships do take work but my three relationships don't take So Much Work that there's no benefit you know #the work is really easy. it's just. you take care of me when i need it and you can. i take care of you when you need it and i can #that's literally it. it's not a hard symbiosis to maintain #autoimmune tag

[xp-n-g]

HELLO MY NAME IS CHARLIE ANNNNNNNND CHECK IT OUT MY WEBSITE UNDERSCOREPNG IS ALMOST DONE!

its all about me myself and i and my work! everything you need to know ab me, my values, and my art are all here! - - eeeek im excited its close to being done! i love html and css and im very proud of this, i hope i get a laptop for christmas so i stop stealing my brothers and then i can code 24/7!! i hope to learn javascript soon so i can make this place look how it looks in my mind!

[this website is best viewed on a pc! unfortunately it breaks a little on mobile and ipad i apologize for this inconvenience!, it still works it just not the same experience!]

___

DNI

[please read full in the link above! - this is shortened!]

BTW it is totally okay to be uncomfortable with any of the values i mentioned here (exceptions are minors*, pro-contacts, bullies, bigots, & hateful people), i myself am uncomfortable with many things, even tho i accept everyone, i still have my own opinions, the difference is i choose to bite my tongue and set differences aside, no matter how weird, for the wellness and health of others. i never want to be someone untrustworthy, nor an oppressor, i am a friend to all and anyone can come to me with anything no matter how big or small, ill be there to listen

HARD DNI

a list of those who i dont wish to associate with, please do not follow me, retweet, repost, or fave/like my work, dm me, or attempt to personally contact me! it makes me uncomfortable!

~ MINORS*

please be 18+ when following my NSFW accounts!

*reminder: my instagram is my only SFW -18 account! this is the only account minors should be on.

~ PRO-CONTACT

i do not allow room for abusive content nor harm, i may be pro-para but i am not pro-abuse. animals, children, and the dead cannot consent.

~ ANTIS

i am proship / profiction meaning i do not feel inclined to harass or reject others for their personal fictional fantasies! i do not believe fiction is equivalent to reality, it can affect it only if you are weakminded enough to allow yourself to, fortunately most people im this world arent! if you in any way believe in harrassing, belittling, or judging others over taboo fictional content, feel taboo fictional content and media are against your moral alignment, or are someone who believes it represents my morals as a person, my content is not for you!

closeted / neutral ship allowed!

~ BULLIES, BIGOTS, & HATEFUL PEOPLE

I WILL NEVER TOLERATE INTOLERANCE, I WILL NEVER STAND BESIDE AN OPPRESSOR, AND I WILL NEVER BE THE OPPRESSOR. i am black, transgender, bisexual, mentally & physically disabled, and radincluse, i support any and all identities no matter how strange or "weird", i do not care! i will ALWAYS be a safe space for anyone who isnt hateful! in my personal opinion, i believe no identity is inherently harmful and all identities are equally invalid, we are stronger together than we are apart. pushing hatred of things you dont understand is not PLUR and is not right, kill the cop in your head before speaking to me, you do not have to understand why others are the way they are, but bare minimum is to accept others no matter how different, in this community we are ALL misunderstood, ostrascized, and wrongly labled, do NOT become the oppressor & praise what you preach, if you are PLUR PROVE IT BY BEING KIND AND ACCEPING! if you force others to confine to your impossible standars do not interact, my content is not for you!

BYF

I AM ANTI-HARRASSMENT, DO NOT COME TO ME WITH CALLOUTS UNLESS SAID PERSON IS CONTRIBUTING TO REAL WORLD ABUSE! youll find out more about this in my byf/dni!

DISCLAIMER

ALL WHO FAIL TO LISTEN WILL BE BLOCKED! ACCOUNTS POSTING HARMFUL OR ABUSIVE CONTENT WILL BE REPORTED, NO IF ANDS OR BUTS!

I RESPECT YOUR DNI, SO PLEASE, RESPECT MINE, ANTIS, MINORS*, AND PRO-CONTACTS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME!

#minors dni #minors do not interact #18+ account #18+ blog #18+ only #proship #proship safe #pro paraphile #paraphile safe #antis dni #html #css #html css #neocities #webdesign #web design #website #coding is so much fun omg yall fr have to make a neocities #neocities moots #2000s web #early web #custom web design

[archon-of-cyberspace]

Cyberpunk 2077: Phantom Liberty ending analysis | When three times for Pistis Sophia passes and tower crumbles

Spoiler warning.

After 3 years I can finally tell myself V survives to see another day. I couldn't be happier. I couldn't be more melancholic. I couldn't be more terrified. I can finally stop kidding myself about Arasaka evil holocall scheme™ and face the truth. People around V are just people.

The Tower ending is bittersweet and painfully realistic. People do and will move on. Many you consider trustworthy and your friends are neither. You will be seen as a burden, an inconvenience to be forgotten if you find yourself in extremely difficult situation. If your health declines. This conclusion, unfortunately, comes from personal experience.

V is a protagonist whose choices I can shape, and with CDPR's brilliant writing it's obvious I will relate to them. The Tower made these similarities dangerously close. If it was otherwise, it wouldn't be cyberpunk. V just became physically disabled, possibly for the rest of their life. That fact will change their perception of the world and make them vulnerable as never before. Earlier they could at least pretend, play the tough merc not to be messed around with.

Judy

was the first person I ordered Valerie to call after being awoken up from 2 years coma. I feel for V. Judy is a slow globe of bad decisions the entire game. She's desperate to feel secure and loved, and that causes her to move on surprisingly fast from and to different people. Needing a constant distraction, rarely thinking anything through, she bails out whenever something's wrong. I think that even if V agreed to meet her in Pittsburgh, the moment V arrives Judy wouldn't be there. Or still married to Bianca. Her entire conversation was just "no, V, I'd rather not see you in my life ever again" but using nice words. Which makes me wonder, what Judy actually said to her grandma and Bianca about V disappearance. Perhaps Judy's mails to Maiko Maeda on Maiko's laptop are overshadowing.

Panam

is already or almost 30 in 2079, but man, is she mentally still a teenager. Immature, unable to deal with personal feelings like grown-ups do. Our Queen of the Highway needs a therapy and a family to stop tolerating her childish behavior. People like her are all fun and loyal until they aren't. The moment something isn't about them – poof, gone, suddenly you're the problem, the bad one, the mistake of the past. Credits voicemail from Mitch in Panam's name is embarrassing but stays in character for both. Mitch is avoidant type, values inner peace over stepping on toes of whoever is in charge of Aldecaldos at the moment. His messages to V about Panam, Saul and Basilisk gave him away long time ago.

(Note (05.10.2023): I've seen the theory Panam probably committed suicide or snuffed on action and, frankly, that puts Aldecaldos in bad light still. V has on done so much for them, the least V deserves is honesty from Mitch.)

River

I cannot really blame, I ghost him after The Hunt anyway. Still sad as hell to see he became everything he despised to get money for Randy's rehab. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I'm sure former co-workers from NCPD are seeking revenge for the stunt he pulled with Trauma Team. From ex-cop fired for principles to corrupt private investigator. How bizarre. I hope TT kept their part of the deal at least.

Kerry,

knowing V for the shortest amount of time, behaved most decent compared to other potential love interest. I don't know if the version for players romancing Kerry is the same, however I found it sweet he offered financial help and promised to catch up with V as soon as his tour ends. Would his attitude change if he knew Johnny's gone? That remains unknown.

V,

my sweet Valerie, my comfort character, is now going through the first stage of grief. Denial. Hopefully one last time. If she wasn't in shock, she wouldn't even bother visiting Night City. So many things have changed, So Mi unintentionally predicted the outcome. "You are alone. All alone". Viktor was threatened by Zetatech and is now relocating to San Francisco. Misty, based on what she told V, was suicidal until she discovered her best friend returned to life, but is already leaving for Poland. And yet, those two found time for Valerie, inviting her once again to talk about their experiences.

You may say, V did a lame ass job explaining nearby disappearance to all these people. First, it's FIA. Top secret, discreet, yadda, yadda, yadda. Second, V was influenced not only by Johnny, but by Jackie as well. It was him who slotted biochip in his head first, though for a mere moment. Deep down, both V and Jackie were naive children dreaming of better future for them and their loved ones. Reason is not natural state of human mind. Mentally, V was afraid, stressed out and vulnerable. Texting friends the vacation takes only a month is simply coping mechanism. Trying the hardest not to accept something can go not as planned.

They say the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, but alas. Friendships forged in hardship and common interest couldn't withstand the passage of time. Tower ending might as well be called "trust issues ending". If my girl won't develop these due to everything that happened, I will be surprised. V have only four true friends in their life, and two of them are already dead.

One more thing. What Rogue says about visit in Afterlife is a blanket over the truth. I believe, because of her good will and sympathy towards V. It's about social customs and clientele there. If you think mercs' reaction would be “oh, so V's alive, nevermind then”, think again. Remember these thugs who beat the shit out of V minding their own business on their way back to Delamain? No one would lay a finger on V in Rogue's company, but the mockery would be endless. In my opinion Rogue is convinced V needs to go cold turkey with merc life, never look back. She's absolutely right. A mercenary “died” so Valerie/Vincent could be born anew. Dwelling on past rarely helped anyone – in fact, it could make V suicidal.

#Cyberpunk 2077 #Phantom Liberty #ending #spoiler #thoughts #archon-of-cyberspace

[i-still-mask-because]

i just wanted to say thank you for running this blog. i appreciate you and what you're doing so much. i don't want to nonconsensually vent in your inbox (i write this so others can see it) but to put it briefly, as an immunocompromised person i've been feeling increasingly despondent and lonely because it feels like no one outside of a very select few people cares if i live or die. the cognitive dissonance of "leftists" or anyone who considers themself to be a good person who claim to care about marginalized people and then won't do something that is to most people at worst a mild inconvenience to protect the vulnerable (talking about people who have the ability to, which is most people who don't mask, as this includes protecting disabled people who CAN'T mask! additionally, people of color are more severely impacted by covid than white people are, it is a racial issue as well) is just mind boggling in the worst way.

i still mask because i'm immunocompromised and disabled and my life is hard enough already without long covid and because i don't want to die in my early 20s. i also still mask because i care about other people and don't want to kill someone or severely disable them. i know what chronic illness is like, what being in pain all day is like, what surviving but not living is like and i'm going to do everything in my power so that others don't experience it.

i still mask because the real question is, why would anyone with the ability to mask who cares about other people NOT still mask? (and of course this question really is important to ask, so resources can be provided to solve whatever problems people have with masking)

anyways, it makes me feel a little more hope to see that i'm not alone. every new person i learn is masking, and especially the people who are also advocating, gives me a tiny spark of life and hope. thank you. https://www.kff.org/racial-equity-and-health-policy/issue-brief/covid-19-cases-and-deaths-by-race-ethnicity-current-data-and-changes-over-time/#:~:text=Total%20cumulative%20data%20show%20that,age%20by%20race%20and%20ethnicity. source on covid impacting communities of color disproportionately for anyone who wants it ^

Thank you for the link! I'm putting it here so it's easy to access!

I'm really really happy to hear that this blog is giving you hope & helping you feel less alone, thank you for letting me know this 💛. And you definitely are not alone, trust me on that. There's so many people out there that are still actively masking and doing everything they can to protect themselves, those that are vulnerable, and the multi-marginalized from this virus. Things may feel hopeless (especially when seeing how so many leftist spaces treat the pandemic like it's over), but every effort counts & we can find hope in the covid awareness communities that are out there.

#thank you for sharing 😷💛 #covid #i still mask because #covid isn't over #covid is airborne #covid awareness #covid pandemic #link(s) provided #ask queue #gratitude