#is BECAUSE NO ONE WEARS MASKS IN THE FIRST PLACE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

naompspsps · 2 days

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*Falls up the stairs* HI I DIDNT EXPECT YOU TO RESPOND TO MY LAST MESSAGE BUT HEAR ME OUT NOW, …..Diasomnia with 1950s reader… HEAR ME OUT, MALLEUS WOULD UNDERSTAND THEM SO MUCH BEING SO CONFUSED BY MODERN era things

"He's Ancient too. He understands."

Summary: Oh look! Malleus and Lilia understands your pain! :D It just leaves Sebek and Silver but they just follow whatever the other two says to you.

Ft. Diasomnia boys

A/n: HI AGAIN LMFAOO, Yes I do answer quickly and I answered you as soon as I woke up and saw the ask notif, I'm just not glad that I didn't get to catch you when you fell down the stairs 😭🙏. But liikeee, Diasomnia!!!

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

If you had to count how many times you had to cuss to the world, it would be countless. Just how bad can this day go?

First of all, There wasn't any explanation to why you arrived in this weird, dark place. Are you in some kind of dream? Did someone just curse you with this dream? Well, Maybe. A whole entire horse with a carriage ran over you.

That's all you remember before waking up in some.. Room with floating coffins, A cat with fire ears stealing something that you're wearing right now- Wait, Who on earth changed you?! This is harrassment. You sigh at the sight.

Okay, Forget being irritated on who changed you without consent, there you were, getting chased by the tiny walking talking cat. How come you're literally bigger than the cat but you're afraid of it?

Come to think of it, It has fire ears, And you don't. It blew fire, and you couldn't. You have many reasons to be afraid, You've never seen this before. Are you gonna meet your end? Maybe. Have you said goodbye to your parents? Nope.

But before you even get harmed, a tall masked man comes to the rescue! You are mesmerized, but then that disappears when you look at his face. Why.. Is he so ugly. Why does he have a mask? You thought people always said hiding beauty isn't the right choice.

He asks you many questions. Such as, 'Are you a new student?' 'Why does it seem like I've never seen your report?' 'Are you teaming up with this cat?'

No?! Who on earth would even want to do that?! It clearly was about to pounce on you but he just saved you! You aren't afraid of the magic happening around you, You're afraid of how you even arrived here. Doesn't this count as kidnapping?

Because of your confusions, even the Headmage got confused. The cat was already sent away by a red haired, and you're only talking to the man in a library with floating books. You're amazed at the way it's all so magical. You never thought you'd be able to see this in person!

You've always believed in the myths. Sure, Some have scared you, but on the other hand, it would add up to your experience if you managed to survive one.

You thought it was even more cool with a man upside down right beside the Headmage. "Headmage Crowley. May we take this student to handle?" Crowley looks beside him, Lilia standing on the ceiling. "Vanrouge, What are you doing? I thought you were back in the dorms!"

"Ah, Malleus just got a bit of a tantrum. Thought I should get him something to calm down. Which I already know what it is.." Lilia looks at you with a creepy smile. At this rate, You didn't even think it was creepy.

"I- Me?" You ask. "Maybe." He whispers. Crowley clears his throat. "Okay! Well, It's settled then! Let's just.. Bring you to Diasomnia." Crowley pushes you, pushing you all the way to a place with alot of mirrors. Around 7 of them?

Lilia walks at the middle, leading to a mirror. He just.. Disappeared in the mirror!

"Like that, So Mx. [Name], Would you be so kind to just!- Thank you, bye!" Crowley pushes you in the mirror, causing you to fall. Or atleast you thought, Lilia catches you. "Whoops, Careful now. The Headmage can be like that so I would want you to get used to his behavior."

Lilia lets out a chuckle as you fix your hair. Goodness, if there are people you would hate in this world for ruining your hair that your mom spends time to do, it would be him. You look around, what a.. Dark dorm.

You look down at the edge of the path, a bunch of thorns. What happens if you fall? You wonder to yourself. You look back at Lilia, who was already ahead of you. You catch up to him. "Welcome to Diasomnia." He pushes the door open, Three people waiting for him. One was really tall. And had horns.

"Hello, I'm Malleus Draconia, I am the Housewarden of this dorm. This is Silver, and Sebek. I hope you feel comfortable in this dorm."

"Oh, Right! Introductions! I'm Lilia Vanrouge, Vice Housewarden of Diasomnia~" Lilia adds. You hum softly. The tall man was surprisingly.. Sweet. He had a smile plastered on his face despite having a frown before you entered. "You must be the student Headmage told us about." Silver tilts his head to the side ever-so-slightly.

"That quick?" You ask. Silver holds up his phone, with Crowley and his messages. Hold on- "What is that?"

Everyone falls silent. "A phone?" Silver whispers. "A phone?? What is that?" You ask them. "I mean, All I'm aware of is a Telephone." You walk closer to Silver, checking out the phone. "You've.. Never heard of a phone?" Lilia asks you. You shake your head.

"Is it available in some other country?" You ask them. The four look at you, not in a weird way, but not in a calm way either. "Err.. No? It's in fact, all around the world.." Malleus crosses his arms, trying to connect the dots. He's slowly starting to understand the situation here, but how would he prove it to himself it's true?

"May I ask a question?" Malleus walks closer to you.

"Of course." You mumble softly. He glides his fingers over your accessories. "When did you buy these? Feels like I've seen these before.."

"Oh! I bought them last year."

"And.. When exactly was the year?" You look at Malleus Confusedly. What does he mean by that? How could someone not know what year it is? "Uh.. 1956?"

Silver and Sebek looks at you, their jaws dropping. "WHAT?!" Sebek yells. "Wasn't that more than 50 years ago? How do they look so young?" Silver mumbles. I mean, if he takes a good look at you, you are far from being a fae. But if you were immortal, then how do you not know what year you're currently in?

"50 years ago?" You ask. "Uhm, Weeellll-" Lilia pulls out a random calendar, pointing at the year right now. "Take a look at what year we're in.."

Your eyes widen. It's been that long?.. Wait, so what happened? Have you gotten into a long coma after getting run over by a horse? No.. That's impossible to stay in a coma for that long. How come you're still looking young?

"Ah. I see now." Malleus randomly speaks up. "They came from 1957, but fate's decision was to bring them to this time for the school's choice. Yet, The headmage didn't seem to know about it." He theorizes. "That's some pretty impossible theories you got there, Malleus.." Lilia makes a quick pause before thinking twice.

"Nevermind, forget I ever said anything. That seems possible enough." Lilia adds. You look at them in disbelief. No way this is happening to you. You're in the future.. And that's how much it changes?! "Explains why they were so confused about the phones." Silver whispers.

"There's no trouble with you, I also in fact understand the feeling of confusion." Malleus places a hand on his chest, smiling softly. "You mean you're also someone that happened to have the same situation as me?" You question him.

"Well, No. But I am immortal, And I am not very used to using phones or anything modern." You nod softly. Ooh.. He's immortal? "Yeah, He's ancient too. He understands." Silver shrugs as Lilia softly smacks him on the head. "Silver! Haha, Nice one.. Ahem, I too, am immortal. But you never heard that from me~" Lilia put a finger on his mouth, winking at you with a grin.

"Interesting.." You mutter under your breath. "..If you are from the 50s, have you tried the ice cream there?" Malleus asks you. You nod. "Well, The ice cream now is different from the oned you tried, want to try it?" He points at the fridge. "Aw, Look at Malleus! Getting his second human friend!" Lilia laughs softly.

"Ohh, Really? Well, I would love to try it!" You follow Malleus, Silver and Sebek only catch up to stay beside him. As Lilia looks at you all. "Hehe.. Hey! Wait up!" He runs up to all of you. "While we're at it, why don't you learn how to use a phone Y'know, get used to the modern time? I know just the perfect friend to teach you!"

You laugh. "I wouldn't mind." You whisper. "Alright! Let's go to his dorm later, but first, Let's eat ice cream!-- Ooh! Maybe my cooking t-" Silver cuts Lilia's sentence with a-- "AHEM, LET'S DO THAT FOR ANOTHER TIME..." He laughs nervously.

"Lilia is quite bad at cooking, I must say, so.. Just make the best excuses to avoid it.." Malleus whispers very, very, quietly. Quiet that even with Lilia's super hearing as a bat won't even hear it. You let out a giggle. "I'll try." You answer.

Maybe.. people these days aren't too bad. You can worry about things later, but just give it a try. They seem kind too, so they'd probably try their best to answer all of your questions.

Author's End Note: Diasomnia's new squad member LMAOO, ATP WE SHOULD JUST CALL IT THE ANCIENT GROUP. (if you know about silver you know about silver)

also, It's Cater that Lilia is talking about. Clubmate knows best I guess 🌅

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #disney twst #gn reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twisted wonderland lilia #twisted wonderland malleus #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #twisted wonderland sebek #silver #silver vanrouge #twst silver #twisted wonderland silver

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cripplecharacters · 17 hours

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Salutations! I’m in the process of creating a story wherein both characters are missing an eye. One has a prosthetic, but is presently isolating themself in the woods, and wears an eyepatch to protect the eye while alone; the other’s socket is either empty, or they have a glass eye with no actual details (iris, pupil, etc.). I’ve struggled to find references for the latter, and fear it may come off as unrealistic. I understand prosthetic eyes keep the eyelid from collapsing, but aside from that could a person just not wear one? If these options are unrealistic, please let me know. I can supply you with concept art if need be.

The story itself centers around these characters after one of them finds the other by accident. They’re painted as foils—the one hiding out in the cabin adhering to a self-made sense of logic that centers on cycles and confirmation bias, while the only who takes refuge there after running away is deeply paranoid and prone to hallucinations. The first character is missing their left eye; the other their right. I don’t want to make a symbol of their disabilities, but I feel their designs simultaneously stress their opposing perspectives, as well as the fact they paradoxically still manage to see “eye-to-eye.” Their visual impairment is just one of many ways they’re able to connect across the story, as they also bond over their obscure passions and delusions, and respect each other’s warped worldview to such an extent said worldviews start to blur together. In addition to this, the story places an emphasis upon an entity known as the “ocellus,” which is basically the “false eye” you see on moth wings. In my outline so far, it’s the name of a mysterious band which the pair discover in a record collection, and resolve to solve the mystery of (regarding the members, music, etc.) One of the characters also sleeps with an eye mask with the pattern of moth wings and their respective ocelli overlaying their own eyes; their paranoid counterpart also sees eyes in the trees and wood of the cabin.

Absolutely none of this is set in stone; before it is, I just want to know how much of it is fine, which parts “moralize” or make a symbol of a disability, and what is straight-up ableist. Please let me know if you need more details.

Hi!

The prosthetic eye has two main functions: 1) to keep the eye area stay in shape, 2) to protect the socket. Both of these can be achieved by conformers (it's like a big contact, except it goes into the socket and not on the eye) which I talked about here!

A blank prosthetic eye would probably be fine. The process of getting it custom painted is expensive from what I know, and IRL a lot of people will decide on the generic kind rather than a custom. If in your world the generic happens to be a blank, there's no problems I can think of? Potentially, you could explicitly say that it's not how most prosthetic eyes look like (maybe someone else knows a person with an eye prosthetic and they comment that it's unusual?). You mentioned that the character doesn't have it in all the time, so I don't think the trope of "blind character has blank/white/milky eyes" applies here because it's clear that it's a prosthetic.

A person could decide to go bare, but the sensation of blinking could be uncomfortable, and they would need to clean their socket more to get rid of anything that could get inside. Normal saline could be used for that.

I don't think there's an issue in them missing different eyes at all. If you want to make sure it's not giving "Just Magic Symbolism" energy then you could incorporate some boring everyday things that would make sense. If they go somewhere together, they could decide to walk missing eye-to-missing eye, so that they see what's going on the sides rather than in the middle, things like that. It could make it feel more grounded, so to speak.

I don't see any issues with the moth fake-eyes symbolism either, I think it makes sense for the story you're trying to tell.

If you want to be very safe, I would have a character (can be minor, or background) that's also missing eye(s) that's not connected to any of the potential symbolism and is more of an average Joe of Not Having an Eye.

In case you decide to get into that, it would be nice for them to have different causes of why they don't have eyes. It feels like in fiction it's always physical trauma, but there's a whole more that could cause someone to not have an eye;

anophthalmia,

retinoblastoma,

severe eye infection,

elective enucleation (removal) of an already blind/painful eye,

just to give you a few ideas! Giving them "boring" everyday reasons of eye loss will also make it feel less symbolic and more like a regular disability. Think "dramatic swordfight with Huge Meaning" vs "yeah I had cancer in my eye when I was 2".

I hope that this helps; if you have any further details you'd like to ask about feel free to send another ask!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anonymous #face difference #eye prosthetics

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owlwithanapple · 9 hours

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Bird & Fox

Chapter 1

Late at night, you stand alone on a high tower somewhere in Gotham City and look around. It is said the sky in this city always overcast at night, and you can feel the cold wind blowing. If you don't see it with your own eyes, you can’t believe the city is so dark and cold at night.

The environment here is completely opposite to the place you live in. Before you immigrated to Gotham City, you lived in Tokyo, Japan. The city you live in is prosperous because of political management, public security management and economic development.

Compared with Gotham City, dark, scary and complicated. How warm and beautiful the city you used to live in is, and there is always a sense of safety and comfort late at night. But Gotham City is surrounded by weird and Gothic buildings, forming a huge contrast and chaotic atmosphere.

This weird and dark Gotham City is listed as one of the cities with the highest crime rate. On TV, the news channel always reports about the content involved in this city and some dangerous information, such as Joker, Penguin, Harley Quinn, etc.

Because of the experience given by your previous work, you know very well no matter where, there will be similar experiences and commonalities. But there will never be a lack of bright and beautiful images, and countless dirt hidden in the dark alleys.

One day, a righteous man dressed as Batman transformed into the Dark Knight and fight criminals for the city appeared in Gotham City. Because of his existence, the Bat Signal can be seen in the sky every night, as if he is promoting his own ideas.

Since he became a righteous Dark Knight to fight criminals, he has become a spiritual idol in people's hearts and a source of fear in the hearts of criminals, making his desire to stop evil more stronger.

In Gotham City, in addition to Batman fighting criminals, there are other superheroes such as Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, etc. who are also maintaining the safety of the city.

You sit idly on the edge of the roof, with your hands on your thighs, shaking your legs at the empty space, looking up at the Gotham City that is already full of chaos at night.

Seeing a person sitting on the roof of a high tower building, the first thing think of is someone is going to jump off to commit suicide. But you are definitely not trying to do something stupid. You are different. The fact that you can casually run to the rooftop in the middle of the night shows that you are not an ordinary person.

Because of your previous work and some reasons, you were forced to immigrate to this dark city. In the morning, you finally packed your things. Tonight is your first time to spend the night freely in this city.

Now you should be an unemployed vagrant. Although you have not been removed from the list, you have been exiled here by the "organization" after all. The more you think about it, the angrier you get. You were exiled to a strange city because of different beliefs, but you still have to thank the "organization" for supporting you with funding.

You are leisurely and bored. You hum a sweet song in a low voice and shake your head slightly. You are intoxicated in the song then hear the faint footsteps approaching you step by step. You stop humming the song.

The person approaching you stops, you glance back. A tall black figure and a shorter child standing next to him are standing behind you. You vaguely guess who they are.

You remain calm and composed, your face is covered by the fox mask but you still smile. Although they can't see, you cross your hands in front of chest and say "What a beautiful night, everyone."

The tall black figure keeps a distance from you, but from your observation, he is very wary of you. He is wearing a mask, you can't see his eyes, only his lips. He is silent then blurts out "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

You stamp your feet and think about how to answer his question, but no excuse can cover up the fact that you are suspicious, it doesn't make sense that you trespassed into this high tower and sit on the roof in the middle of the night. "I said I came here for a walk, would you believe it?"

The little guy standing next to him holds a katana, with a smile that seems very confident. Your intuition tells you that can't underestimate him. Even if he is a kid, his sword holding method and posture are not ordinary, but a skilled posture.

You noticed the little guy looking you up and down, perhaps he was waiting for his chance, he tightened the grip of his katana, seemingly ready to strike you "TT, you lie without thinking."

He pulled out his katana and pointed at you. You stayed still, hands still in front of your chest, breathing kept balanced, but stopped stamping your feet, tried not to make any unnecessary movements. This was a lesson taught by the "Organization".

When he was about to pounce on you with the katana, the black figure blocked the little guy with his hands in front of him. The little guy immediately stopped and looked at the black figure. At this time, the little guy was confused why stop him.

The black figure looked at the little guy as if giving some instructions. The little guy seemed to understand his intention and put the katana away walked to the side to look at you, while the black figure looked at you and said, "I am Batman. What about you?"

You finally heard the black figure say his title in person. He is Batman. The real person is right in front of you. It feels so cool. You noticed the little guy beside you frowned and looked impatient. "Hello, Batman. It's a beautiful night. Bring your kids to see the night view?"

When the little guy heard you say he was a "kid", his sharp ears immediately stood up, walked towards you with a red face and anger. His attitude towards you was enough to prove he was a kid with a strong self-esteem. This time, Batman did not stop him.

Realizing that you said the wrong thing, he can fight criminals and work with Batman, he is not an ordinary child. It is embarrassing to apologize at this time. He points his index finger at you and says, "Listen, I am Robin. Not a kid! Bitch!"

You feel bad when you hear him use the word "bitch", but he is just a kid. But not an ordinary child, Robin has rich combat experience and skill training.

Seeing him, recall that you were strictly trained in the "Organization" before. You were still 8 years old. No one showed mercy in the sparring battle. Until now, you have become an independent person at the age of 20, but you have been exiled by the "Organization".

Maybe you are not the person in their idealism. You have opposite beliefs and ideas from them. The result is your value judgment.

Robin noticed that you were in a state of vacant thoughts. He looked at Batman in confusion and tried to ask him what to do. Batman just stared at you expressionlessly, waiting for your reaction.

When you were in a daze, Robin slowly approached you, trying to touch you to wake you up. Subconsciously, you came back to your senses and grabbed his index finger with your hand. "Whoops, sorry. I was just in a daze."

Since the two of them have introduced themselves, you can't be rude. You let go of Robin's hand. With your right hand, you put your middle finger and ring finger together and press them on your thumb, and lift your index finger and pinky finger to form a fox shape. "Hello, my name is Kitsune, you can also call me Fox."

You put your hand into the pocket of your long sleeves and took out a flash bomb. They immediately stepped back and got ready for the fight, but you didn't want to kill people in vain. You just wanted to leave here.

You threw a flash bomb into the air, it flashed a dazzling light. Batman and Robin subconsciously used their cloaks to block their sight. When they put down and opened their eyes, you were gone.

Robin ran to the edge and looked down at the 40-story building. There was no trace of you. Batman stood aside and looked around. There was indeed no trace of you. The two of them confirmed that you were gone, Robin was surprised and swallowed his saliva. "That bitch really disappeared."

Batman listened to Robin's words but didn't respond. He was actually thinking, and confused about how you did it. You disappeared just a few seconds after the flash of light, leaving no trace.

The two of them looked for your trace everywhere, but there was no clue. In desperation, they had to retreat temporarily. In fact, you just used some trick to deceive them.

After you return home, take off your mask, place it on the table, remove all your equipment, put them in the closet, close the closet and see the mirror reflecting your naked body. You gently touch each scar, which are the marks of your becoming a "ninja" and the medal of your success.

You don't hate these scars all over your body. Although the scars are deeply engraved on your body, you are very happy, even grateful to have them. This is proof that you have survived, you have experienced the test of the "organization" to prove yourself.

"Kitsune..." You muttered in front of the mirror, code name, the name you used when you were a ninja. But now you are Y/N L/N, just an ordinary woman with ninja abilities.

The Batcave at this time—

The Batcave is Batman's command center, where he monitors all crisis points in Gotham City and the world. It is usually located beneath Wayne Manor and is part of a large group of underground caves.

Batman is replaying the surveillance video with Robin to see the footage of you and conversation. In order to catch your clues and find out your purpose, no clue can be easily let go.

Alfred came to the Batcave and saw the two of them busy watching the video. He carefully made two cups of hot drinks and placed it in front of them. "Master Bruce, Master Damian, take a rest."

Batman stopped the work, leaned back the chair, gently massaged his eyes with his hands. When he saw the hot drink in front of him, he took it up and took a sip. "Alfred, what do you think of the people in the surveillance video?"

Alfred looked at the screen, put his hand on chin and rubbed it gently. You didn't attack them, nor did you commit a crime. You just sat on the edge and stared blankly. "Hmm, it's harmless at the moment."

Robin finished the hot drink and asked Alfred for a refill. Alfred filled the cup with the hot drink and handed it to him again. Robin took the cup and complained to the big screen, "I will definitely catch her next time."

Alfred looked at Master Bruce who was distressed and Master Damian who was complaining. He thought about what he could do to help. He suddenly suggested, "Why not ask Master Tim?"

Batman looked at Alfred. It was indeed a good suggestion. Perhaps Tim had a way to solve this problem. After all, it was he who deduced that Batman was Bruce Wayne. He had a strong reasoning ability. "I will contact Tim later.

Robin listened to what Batman and Alfred said then left the Batcave with a "TT". Alfred put the cup back on the tray prepared to leave. "Master Bruce, I want to ask you. Why didn't you take her down on the spot?"

Batman thought about it realized he could have taken her down, as Robin was also there at the time. But facing you who showed no hostility and showed no intention to escape or kill, he was confused. "I want to confirm who she is? Is she righteous or evil. That's all."

Before leaving, Alfred bowed to Batman's back. "I understand, Master Bruce. I'll leave first."

After Alfred left, Batman was left alone in the Batcave. He thought about Alfred's suggestion and called Red Robin who was on patrol. "I need your help with something."

Red Robin stayed in the alley talk to Batman and understand the ins and outs of the matter. He vaguely guessed he was distressed and confused. "I understand. See you in the afternoon ."

After saying that, he hung up the call. When Red Robin left the alley and went to a higher place to continue patrolling, he ran into Nightwing who was talking gossip and Red Hood was having snacks.

Nightwing waved to Red Robin and invited him to have supper together. Red Hood took off his helmet started to eat hamburgers, and handed Red Robin two fries, "I'll treat you."

Red Robin looked at the two fries in Red Hood's hand and speechless. As the "older brother", he only shared fries with his "younger brother", but he still took it and put it in his mouth to chew.

"Hey hey hey." Nightwing handed Red Robin a bag with hot coffee, hamburgers and fries. "I didn't forget to buy your share." After saying that, he continued to eat.

Red Hood finished eating, crumpled the wrapping paper into a ball, threw it into the bag, and then found a trash can to throw it away later. He opened the cap of the soda bottle and started to drink. When he was halfway through, he put down and ask "Bruce looking for you?"

Red Robin, who was drinking coffee and addicted to caffeine, put down the cup immediately after hearing it. He looked at the other two, and nodded after a moment of silence, "Yes, meet at the manor in the afternoon ."

After listening to Red Robin, Nightwing nodded to indicate that he could, Red Hood drank up the soda and threw it into the bag, "I can't. My motorcycle needs maintenance tomorrow, don't count me in."

"Are you serious?" Nightwing asked him seriously. After all, he didn't want Bruce and Jason to have a hard time. Although the two did have bad memories in the past, Jason was very defensive against people, and that incident also left a shadow on his life.

Red Hood stood up, wiped his mouth, put on his helmet, took a bag of garbage, and held the door handle to indicate that he was leaving, leaving Red Robin and Nightwing sitting there. He thought about it and said, "Let's see, if I finish my work early." Then he left.

Nightwing knew Bruce and Jason had a rough time. The past experience and feelings led to the current collapse, but sometimes, both sides had mutual trust and cooperation.

Seeing Red Robin's self-blaming expression, Nightwing put his hand on his shoulder to comfort. Tim became Robin after Jason died. During that time, everyone had a hard time, including Tim, of course.

Being Robin is a very proud thing. It is very cool to fight criminals with Batman. Of course, there are always crises, just like Jason's death, which has become one of everyone's shadows.

"Although that guy is bad-mouthed, he is still trustworthy." Nightwing comforted the frustrated Red Robin, hoping he and Jason would not have a quarrel again.

"I know, thank you, Dick." Red Robin smiled again and continued to drink coffee. The caffeine he couldn't quit became a source of energy, making him more motivated and confident.

Do you hope there will be Chapter 2?

Leave a comment to let me know 😁

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dazais-guardian-angel · 1 month

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went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠

#like. to be clear this was the first time i've been literally anywhere but doctor's appointments in 4 years #not just because of the pandemic but because of mental and physical exhaustion #so it was a Big Mistake to go from 0 to 100 and not ease myself into it at all #but at the same time........ it was a fucking hellscape of people. i don't think any kind of buildup could have prepared me for it at all.#it was so much less crowded in 2020 (ironically the very last place i ever went; literally on the BRINK of covid)#and now idk what it's become. a monster con. it was unbelievable.#but i was only there for less than an hour but i was so so so terrified that i very nearly left before even seeing him #i couldn't even fully enjoy meeting him as kind as he was because i was so anxious and distracted #and when i got back to the car i just fucking cried.........#the last five days i've just been sitting in fear waiting to feel Any sort of symptoms #i wore two masks and again was barely there for long but Still #and everyone around me was so chill as if everything was normal and No One was wearing a mask :))))) it's not fucking fair man :)))))#insert the 'they don't know' meme; they don't know how much covid can destroy your body even if you get a 'mild' case #i would never want to be that ignorant even if i wasn't disabled and didn't have reason to worry (but everyone has reason to worry!!!)#but also. ignorance is bliss and it just really fucking sucks man.#it really fucking sucks. why do they get to be happy and enjoying life and not /me?/#why can't i do just ONE thing for myself without having it tainted by anxiety and fear that i'm going to die horribly???#while they get to do fucking EVERYTHING???#if they all just wore masks we could all enjoy ourselves much more comfortably than some of us are now #but no that's too much to ask from people 🙃🙃🙃#shit sucks man. the world sucks. something that should be a happy memory for me was simultaneously the most awful experience #and i don't know how to feel about it now that it's over #he knew that i was afraid and at the end he told me that he hoped to see me again at another event someday #and that made me cry because it felt like dazai telling me to live. and i want to. but i don't know how to when the world is like this now.#i desperately want to be able to see him again someday but right now after how terrifying that was i never want to go to a con ever again..#i wanted to ask him things about the manga and about dazai but i was being rushed and stressed so i couldn't ugh #(and doing that is hard enough anyway cause disability and i have to talk with my phone bahhhh)#at least i was able to give him my note *sigh*

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icewindandboringhorror · 2 years

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‘being one of the only people in your entire area actually still taking the pandemic very seriously and following safety measures while every single person around you rapidly decides they completely no longer give a shit’ moodboard

#my bastard in hell i have fucking health conditions #maybe you want to gamble your shit but I simply cannot take those risks dude #and it is increasingly hard to interact with literally any other human being when it seems like we both live in alternate realities #AND if they won't even give the basic respect of just being careful around ME #just a basic 'okay I know we apparently disagree somehow but at least while you're around me could you take these precautions #to help protect me' then it's immediately just *deeply personal reason against it* *argument entirely based on how the person #feels and not any actual current data or pandemic statistics* *random personal anecdote* *reckless nihilism based in #reasonable and understandable exasperation but still missing the point and not ultimately practically helpful in terms of genuinely preventi #ng things from getting worse and simply worsening the conditions that foster the nihilism and exasperation in the first place* *ableism*#*the weirdest fucking argument you've ever heard in your life* *some other entirely personal sentimental reasoning*#*some argument that basically boils down to the fact that they don't trust or respect or care about you and your boundaries or health*#like gHHHGhhhhhhhhhh #JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME AND WEAR A MASK FOR 30 MINUTES whY does it have to be a debate WHY is that SOO hard #also people I know keep planning stuff and trying to force and guilt trip me and others in my household to go do stuff with them #and are like planning vacations and all this stupud bullshit and now I'm constantly having to put up with it and seem 'mean' or whatever #one of my roomates is fine but the other one is more emotionally volatile and definitely prone to being pulled in by being Lonely #or wanting to do stuff with loved ones and compromising on safety because they're being manipulated by the people around them #into feeling like they're being a burden by asking people to wear masks or etc. so its a constant trust issue where I have to just desparate #ly hoep that when left on their own they're ACTUALLY going to stand up for themselves and stick to their beliefs #and not just like come home and lie about following sfatey measures then secretly give me covid or something.. hhh... WHICH wouldnt be a pro #blem if EVERYONE on the earth wasnt just acting like the pandemic is over and deciding to be reckless - because then it's a matter of #social conformity and peer pressure and following the Culture instead of the data and even people who were safe before will see everyone aro #und them taking things less seriously and decide maybe now it's reasonable to do the same thing themselves or etc. etc.#and it's like... nothing with the VIRUS ITSELF changed lol.. the response changed and the culture changed but the part that matters is the #SAME....the virus isn't looking around like 'hey people seem more chill about this now - maybe I should just relax a little bit and not #infect people for a while. i really dont want to get in the way of their pool party summer vacation and all of that. i'll just step back'#HHHHHHHHHHHHH anyway.... oi am goin inshane lov...........#covid mention #covid tw

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motheyes · 1 year

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man bookstore job… i hope i get it…

#kinda do kinda don’t #change is soooo hard and ik it’ll be so overwhelming #plus being trans and getting a job in general SUCKS #having my name legally changed is like. fucking amazing #if i get a little name tag i wanna put my pronouns and stuff #and ofc i’ll wear my mask #only thing is i don’t read a lot. i love books and stories but readibg is like #a lot for me #it’s like the same with movies and shows #i hardly start new shows because it’s rlly overwhelming which is so funny #will they ask what my fave book is…….. auuaghh #i do like books tho and book knowledge so i think it’s fine #i just gotta point people to the right places and put shit away #plus there’s a coffee shop inside :)#it’s a like. franchise bookstore. like the biggest one. the one that prolly first comes to ur head #it’s in a mall #anyways. i’m about to take a fat nap

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liquid-geodes · 2 years

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"I thought you were the literal one" we have known each other in passing for maybe a month and you don't even know who William Afton is to me, you thought wrong

#if you want to date me you have to come to terms with the fact that i will never shut up about anything i like #but this man... good grief no one in that building has seen my real personality #you know the mask but not the person who wears it #which like GOOD because tbh i dont want these people to KNOW me know me #its just a job. i don't enjoy being there and therefore i will not make myself seem open to anything #like cmon dude you dont know ANYTHING important about me and i am not retaining ANYTHING about you #meanwhile i can successfully identify a doctor who because that is a thing ghirathem is into and their interests are so important to me #i can spot a transformers from miles away because my bestie reblogs the robot posts :)#idk what my tag rant is about anymore but my point is literally HOW can you say that about a person YOU DONT KNOW #you are not the one for me sir. you dont even know the me #you dont even have to LIKE what i like you just gotta accept that youre going to learn about it against your will #and then ill do the same for you #idk man im just tired and it feels weird to have to reject somebody when you literally dont know how you even got here in the first place

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youngks-smile · 2 months

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What I Want You To Know About Long COVID

Well lads, I've been suffering from Long COVID for over a year now. My life is at a complete standstill. I'm 25 years old and I'm too sick to go back to school, I can't work, I had to move back in with my parents and I'm still stuck here.

Here are just a few things I wish people knew about Long COVID, including things I didn't know myself until I got it.

COVID destroys your immune system. Yes, even if you don't have Long COVID. Are you getting sick more often now? When you get sick, does it last longer? There are many studies showing that COVID causes t cell depletion, even in mild COVID cases! T cells are how your body remembers how to fight off infections you've had before so losing those cells? Bad news.

Your initial infection can be mild and you can still get Long COVID. Right from Yale Medicine, "Most people with Long COVID had mild acute COVID." (This is also a good link for a basic Long COVID overview).

There can be a gap of time between when you "get better" from the initial COVID infection to the onset of Long COVID symptoms. Some people get sick with an initial COVID infection and never get better. Some get better and then weeks or months later start developing Long COVID symptoms. Long COVID symptoms can even fluctuate over time, can go away for months and then suddenly come back.

So many people have Long COVID and don't realize it. Do you feel more tired lately but no matter how much you sleep, nothing helps? Is it harder to concentrate at work or school? Can you just not think like you used to? You could have Long COVID and not even know it. Even mild post-COVID symptoms are still Long COVID.

COVID can do anything to your body. Long COVID has over 200 recognized symptoms and can affect basically any part or system of your body. There is no one mechanism or cause of Long COVID which unfortunately also means there's no one cure either.

The effects of COVID are cumulative. Each COVID reinfection increases your chances of developing Long COVID. COVID is also affecting your body in other ways, yes, even if you're otherwise young and healthy! "Repeat COVID-19 infections increase risk of organ failure, death".

Once you have Long COVID, repeat COVID infections will make your symptoms worse. "80% [of Long COVID patients] saw their symptoms worsen [from reinfection]. In 60% of people who were in recovery or remission from Long COVID, reinfection caused a recurrence of Long COVID."

There is a lot more I want to say about Long COVID but I want to keep this post at least somewhat manageable to read. Like how when COVID is contracted during pregnancy, those COVID-exposed fetuses have a 6.3-fold increased risk of motor developmental delays, or that another study found 50% of babies exposed to COVID in utero had developmental delays.

You need to keep caring about COVID, for others around you and also for yourself even if you're "healthy". Everyone is at risk. And don't forget 40-60% of COVID infections are asymptomatic, which is why masking even if you feel fine is crucial. The only way right now to not get Long COVID is to not get COVID in the first place. It's not too late, if you've stopped masking it's never too late to start again! I know it's easy to get distracted by things in your life that seem more real than the possibility of getting sick some time in the future, and the peer pressure to not mask can be intense. But it only feels less real or less important until your entire life is having Long COVID. Trust me.

I know this is a complicated issue, many people can't afford to stay home when sick even if they want to because of their jobs, there are disgusting policies trying to ban wearing masks, but please if you can. Keep masking. Masking works, masking saves lives.

This post got a bit longer than I wanted so below the cut is a non-exhaustive list of my Long COVID symptoms and some of my experiences as one of the "healthy young people" who got "unlucky". cw brief mention of suicidal ideation.

Welcome to the Thunderdome that is my body with Long COVID. Keep in mind these are just my experiences and symptoms, Long COVID can cause any range of symptoms at varying severities.

Dysautonomia: Exercise intolerance, Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM), fatigue, and heat intolerance. What do those things mean? Here's some specific examples. Absolutely terrible circulation I am so cold all the time but also, if I get a little too warm I will pass out. Eating hot food makes my heart rate spike, I sweat, my body feels heavy. Blood pooling and pins and needles in my feet when I walk. Don't even think about exercising past walking, it's impossible. I used to work out an hour a day 4 times a week and now walking up one flight of stairs makes my heart pound and I can't breathe. Can't take even just warm showers anymore or I will pass out. Heat rashes from being in the sun for 10 minutes.

Digestive issues: Honestly too many to name but: constant bloating, extreme nausea, constipation, slow motility, lack of appetite, just so much cramping and pain. I lost 18 pounds from Long COVID, as someone who was already considered underweight their entire life, and almost had to get a shunt put into my chest to deliver nutrients because I was nearly completely unable to eat. For the first 6 months of Long COVID, if I could manage 600 calories a day, that was a good day.

Histamine intolerance: Oh boy. My worst symptoms, I don't even know where to start with it. If you know Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) it's very similar. I can only eat 19 foods. If i eat a single bite of something not on that list, it's 48 hours of absolute hell. Coughing, migraines, itchy eyes, such extreme nausea I cannot even describe it, panic/feeling of doom, racing heart rate, derealization, rash, uncontrollable muscle tremors. I only learned about histamine intolerance 5 months into having Long COVID so before that, I was experiencing these symptoms nearly every single day. Terrifying isn't even a strong enough word to describe how it felt to experience all this and have no idea what it was, how to stop it, or if it would ever stop. Really dark times.

Neurological issues: More of that derealization. Inability to concentrate. Anxiety. OCD-like symptoms such as thoughts getting "stuck" in my head, repeating 24/7 completely unable to stop them, genuinely felt like my brain had cracked open and I had lost my mind. Constant dizziness like I'm on a boat.

Sleep issues: I sleep like garbage. I have insomnia, I wake up dozens of times every night and every single time I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams. I can't sleep longer than 7 hours total no matter how exhausted I am. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted, I'm so so tired.

And finally. Just. Really intense suicidal ideation. My body, my health, my entire life has been stolen from me because someone else decided my life was worth less to them than wearing a mask or staying home if they feel sick. Before I got Long COVID, I was preparing to go to South Korea to teach English, then on to a PhD in neurolinguistics, I was supposed to meet my long distance partner and had already booked plane tickets when I got sick. All of that has been destroyed.

Most of us with Long COVID are stuck in a cycle of being extremely sick, then if you're lucky you'll slowly get better over months, just to get reinfected and go right back where you started or worse. Honestly, I'm not scared of dying from COVID. I'm scared of living for a long time, suffering from Long COVID the entire time. This isn't living.

I don't know how to end this now. I'm still fighting, I'm trying experimental treatments, I'm not giving up yet. I hope everyone reading this stays healthy and well.

#long covid #covid 19 #covid isn't over #pandemic

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junosmindpalace · 8 months

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you don’t like to kiss satoru when he wears his blindfold.

you understand why he wears it, and you don’t have any problem with it besides how distanced you feel from him when he tries to be intimate with it on. so while you never ask him to take off his blindfold, you simply refuse to engage him when he wears it.

guilt eats at you for even feeling this way in the first place—after all, satoru’s health came before your own menial, selfish wants. still, you couldn’t help the uneasiness that came as a result of trying to be affectionate with him while half his face was completely blocked off from you.

and satoru doesn’t like this. he’s not immensely clingy, or at least not often enough to call him clingy, but he does like to have you near him, tuck you into his side and steal a slow kiss or two from you on occasion. especially when he’s feeling stressed or annoyed does he seek out your soothing touch, which tended to be pretty often from how demanding the higher ups are of him.

you’ll still lend a listening ear, lean in real close and scan his face as if trying to see those bright blue eyes of his through the dark mask he often wears, perhaps even wrap your arms around him and card your fingers through his hair held up by the fabric around his head. and most of the time simply being near you, touching you in one way or another is enough to soothe his aching muscles and tense mind. but when he leans in to press his lips against yours and you dodge, he immediately realizes that it’s not enough.

“you’re mean.” he pouts, and though you can’t see his eyebrows crease in distress, you can certainly imagine it, and you laugh.

“when we’re at home.” you reassure him, rubbing your hands up and down his arms.

he speculated for some time that you rejected him because of the setting, that it was unprofessional or perhaps embarrassing. but you had no problem angling his head toward you and stealing a kiss from his lips on the rare occasion he decided to wear his glasses to work, and so he eventually managed to piece together that the blindfold was the problem.

satoru’s frown only deepens, because he wants a kiss from you now. why should he have to wait to kiss his own partner?

“just a small one. a quick one.” he tries to bargain, holding your elbows, but you only shake your head with an amused smile.

“later.” you promise, and before he can press further, your students start to approach and your attentions are required elsewhere.

you uphold your promise, cupping his face and kissing him with so much love behind closed doors, as if you were anticipating the moment as much as he was—when his blindfold is off. but he’s still troubled by the fact that you refuse to kiss him with it on. it’s a part of him. do you think he’s ugly with it on? that’s got to be it.

he continues to whine and chase after your lips when the two of you are at work, but you only chuckle and angle his face away, and eventually it really strikes a nerve with him, frustrated over not knowing why you were so adamant on avoiding his kiss when he wore his blindfold. you haven’t tried to initiate, or even reciprocate his advances, even once!

he brings up this concern one day when you two are at home, when your bodies are messily intertwined on the living room couch, satoru’s chin propped up on your chest and your hand cupping his face as you cuddled and giggled about whatever sort of conversation you were making that night. in the security of your shared home, and in your comforting embrace, does satoru allow himself to wind down, letting his cursed energy seep out, and using it as an incentive to relax a slight bit.

you say something and he laughs, and upon seeing his smile and endearing eyes crinkle happily, you lean in to close the space between your lips.

he immediately reciprocates the kiss, the hold he has around your waist tightening. but then he remembers being in a similar scenario hours prior, and you refusing to meet his lips then. he pulls away gently as the dejection bubbles up in his stomach again, and his smile slightly drops.

“why don’t you kiss me when i wear my blindfold?”

the question, coupled with the blunt and slightly miserable tone satoru asks it with, catches you off guard, and his knit brows makes your breath hitch.

this was the thing about satoru without his blindfold. every piece of him—every vulnerable expression, every crease on his face, every emotion of his—was on display for you to bask in. rubbing your thumb over his cheek is welcome. there isn’t any fabric to bump into and make you feel like you’re being pushed out, make you feel like your affection is being suppressed.

satoru without his blindfold was open, intimate—whole. but when he wrapped the fabric around his eyes, it felt like he was also hiding a part of himself you adored. not the overwhelming strength he held in those enchanting cerulean eyes of his, but the love and affection they glimmered with when he was with you, a glimmer you’re sure was present in your own eyes as well. a part of him that displayed his adoration for you, for the things he loved most, clear as day.

“it’s silly, satoru.” you tell him reluctantly, gently playing with his hair. his sad smile makes you feel guilty, gnaws at your heart. but the part of you that feels shut away with that blindfold overtakes an insecurity deep inside. “i don’t want to concern you with it.”

“you gotta tell me what’s up, sweets. think i’m ugly?” he tries to tease, and you roll your eyes.

“just feel distant from you, ‘s all.”

voicing it aloud makes you feel just as small and silly as you told him it is. perhaps you were overthinking things too much.

you’re afraid to explain any further, because you don’t even know if you can without sounding even more insecure than you feel, but satoru immediately understands, and all the tension he’s built over the situation melts away in an instant, and he chuckles.

“like my eyes on you, huh?” he wiggled his brows, and you scoff, moving your hands down to his neck. he leans in a little closer, speaks a little softer. “they’re always on you.”

your heart flutters as satoru kisses over the side of your jaw, giggling at the slight tickling sensation. he mimics your smile from against your jawline when he hears you laugh.

he thinks he understands. if he wasn’t able to see those gorgeous eyes of your as they crease when you laugh, or gaze up at him in awe when he pulls away from a kiss only you could make so sweet, he thinks he’d also feel shut out, robbed of that small but intimate and beautiful part of you that leaves him breathless. he had a responsibility as the strongest to keep himself in line, but he also had a responsibility to you. he committed himself to that responsibility ages ago when you first met.

satoru stares up at you from the crook of your neck, and it’s as if there’s hearts in his eyes, a sight that never fails to fluster you when you realize that it’s all directed toward you, a result of you. it reminds you just why you were so insecure in the first place. why would you want to kiss him when he wore his blindfold when you were deprived of this sight while doing so?

“just try to kiss me with my blindfold.” he mumbles, and it sounds insensitive after what you told him, but it’s exactly why he wants to prove that not a single ounce of love for you is hidden away when he wears it.

you frown, but still reach to grab the black band from when he threw it on the coffee table hours ago. you wrap it around his eyes for him, feeling slightly saddened by the sight already, but his lovesick smile never falters.

as soon as your hands lower from behind his head, he’s gently pushing his lips against yours, and it feels every bit of kind and loving and special as it did when you kissed him without it. his lips move slowly, yet passionately, with yours, and for the first time, your hands move to cup his face in reciprocation. the touch elates satoru like nothing else in the world, and you can’t believe you ever expected anything different.

when he finally pulls away, you could swear you see those bright blue eyes of his staring at you with that dizzying gaze that makes you feel light and loved. the blindfold makes you feel a lot more exposed than he is though, and you can’t help but blush and bring your hands over your face to try and even the playing field.

he laughs at this reaction and tries to pry your hands away from your face. “so? anything different?” he grins, feeling proud knowing he accomplished his goal from your reaction, and you laugh.

“i still prefer it off.”

“that’s fine,” he hums, lowering the band so it hangs loosely around his neck with one hand, bringing your hands down away from your face with the other. “i prefer it off, too.”

and from then on you become a little more comfortable kissing satoru with his blindfold on, and he’s over the moon at you now indulging him when he’d pull you into a random empty classroom and lean in close.

but he doesn’t see the harm in compromise, however, so he’ll indulge you too. and when he’s feeling particularly eager, he’ll wrap an arm around your waist, quickly tug his blindfold down to his neck, and capture your lips in a breathless kiss.

whether he does this in an empty classroom or to say hello or goodbye before heading off on a mission with his students, you get to see those mesmerizing eyes of his shine with all the affection and love he holds for you.

besides, you can't help but admit that it’s even more satisfying when he does it in front of others, tugging the blindfold off simply for your sake, showing off to everyone else the state you reduce him too.

so perhaps you’ve grown to like kissing satoru when he wears his blindfold.

#wtf. this is the fastest i've blown up #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE KIND FEEDBACK #no way two posts in the same week?!#this will never happen again #in honour of gojos 0.0001 second scene in the trailer #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo oneshot #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru oneshot #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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shotmrmiller · 1 month

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simon isn't a man you take home. he's for the literal streets. dresses like he's homeless because all that matters is that his throwing knives and handguns are pristine. the only reason his home is spotless is because he doesn't live in it, it's all for show. his pantry has only salt and mouse traps, his fridge a long expired bottle of ketchup and something that if anyone ate, they'd gain superpowers.

he's got a crazy look in his eye, and who can blame him after all that shit he's been through? gut-wrenching betrayal, unimaginable torture, then buried alive shoulder to shoulder with his ol rotting buddy, ol decaying pal? he joined the military a butcher's apprentice, and now he's an echo of what simon riley used to be, a fading silhouette that wanders the corridors in base. a ghost.

he has to play music whenever he's not at work just to keep the screaming voices in his head at bay, and it has to be loud enough to drown out the incessant high-pitched ringing in his ears. a cacophony of noise that wears his thin string of patience into in-existence.

he's a killer, he's a man who's donned his skull mask for so long that he's forgotten the face underneath.

you don't bring a man like him home. and when you eventually did, even your parents had agreed.

he looks one clown short of a circus.

he hovers over you like a ghost. (ha)

possessive, obsessive, paranoid.

he'll kill you if you try to leave him.

simon heard everything, not like they had tried to keep their voice down. it hadn't really mattered to him, empty words pelting knotted flesh only a sharpened knife could cut through. but you hadn't taken any of it.

his little hero, coming to his defense. it'd been the first time- in a long time- that his icy cold, tiny heart skipped a beat.

simon's always been his own savior. he saved himself from the shit life he had with his family by joining the army. he'd clawed his way out of his own grave, freshly turned soil stuck under his fingernails for weeks. he'd gone after the head of roba, in the name of vengeance. even now, he's a part of the justice league, the task force 141.

unsung heroes.

and here you were, standing in your parent's kitchen, all bared teeth and scalding temper- over him.

simon's so aroused that when he rises from where he's seated, he sways on his feet. there's no stopping him from briskly walking over to you and hoisting you up and over his shoulder, heading for the door.

there's no stopping him from throwing you into the backseat, and climbing in after.

you weakly try to stop him with stammered words, just wanting to know what the fuck he's doing but when simon starts to impatiently undo the button of your jeans, his confined manhood pushing up underneath you, it clicks.

you don't want him to stop when the calloused pad of his thumb rubs your slippery clit with expertise, thick fingers curling inside your swollen cunt.

you definitely don't want him to stop when his cock slides through your slick folds, his hand wrapped around his thick base. his tip pushes inside, mild discomfort already flaring. gravity then does the work, slowly sinking you onto him until his thighs are flush against your arse. the sweet, decadent burn of him splitting you in half sparking your nerve endings alight, from the waist to your knees.

you beg him not to stop when he fucks you in earnest; desire, sticky and wet, dampening the coarse trimmed hair of his cock. the air inside the truck muggy, heavy and thick with sex. he places his hand under your navel, right when he knows he is, and grunts when he gently presses down. the noises coming from you and your sodden pussy are obscene, lewd, downright vulgar and he wonders if you'd let him record it- to replace the banal music he usually listens to.

your breath hitches beautifully, and simon makes sure to watch how you let go of his shoulder to weave that hand downward to take yourself over the edge.

"impatient little pet, can't even wait f'me to get ya there, eh?" the low chuckle he lets out is cut short at the feeling of your slick walls fluttering around him, making him groan. he keeps his sharp gaze on you when your body tenses, back arching as you jerk fast, little circles over your pearl. he plants his feet and begins to thrust upward, your weight nothing to his strength and-

how beautiful you look in the pleasure he brings you.

it's cliche, truly, that he comes when you do, but he couldn't care less in this instance. your cunt squeezes him like a silken fist, a tight vice that milks his cock almost painfully so. his grip around your waist is bruising, but it only adds to the sensation- the delightful bite of pain prolonging your pleasure.

the base of his spine tingles from his climax, and his breathing is ragged. alive. your hands skim the wide breadth of his chest, as if brushing off the dirt he'd once been buried under.

his little hero.

you took him home, so now he takes you to his.

(...don't look in the kitchen, pet.)

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader

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bi-writes · 1 month

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hmm im thinking about it being the first night simon stays over, and you show him how to take off his makeup. (18+)

he looks tired. you stand in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with the remnants from dinner. you don't want to spend time washing the full sink, you just want to sit next to him and soak up the warmth of him--you had missed him, and all you want to do is curl up next to him and nuzzle your face into his mask and finally get him into your bed, under your covers.

he's never slept over. he's always been adamant about that. always lacing up his boots after the movie, kissing you through the mask after a warm date, tucking you in when you get too tipsy and leaving water by the bedside table. he always goes, and even if he comes back in the morning, he always makes sure he does not stay over.

even when he fucked you the first time--he waited until you fell asleep, and then he left, and he came back in the morning with breakfast, but you knew he went home because he smelled fresh and he was wearing different clothes.

but tonight, he's staying. because you finally asked, and how could he say no to those pretty eyes? to that sweet little pout?

the distance, he was always trying to maintain it. but it was useless. you are not temporary. there is no end date. he can't keep letting you linger at arm's length.

you're soft and sweet, and your cunt is the same, and when he isn't thinking about being cock-deep in you, he's dreaming of your soft voice and your pretty smile and the tender way you kiss him and the way you hug. the all-encompassing, enveloping way you put him at ease. his rage builds, and one look at you, and it is gone.

as if it never mattered in the first place. as if it was never there at all.

so he agreed to stay. his bag sits heavy in your bedroom, clean clothes inside, and his toothbrush is in the same holder as yours in the bathroom. he lingered on it when he had put it there; two versus one. he never wants to see his toothbrush alone ever again.

he blinks awake when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. he's still wearing his army fatigues, black cargo pants and his windbreaker, the skull balaclava tucked under his long sleeve to hide any skin. his holsters are still around his thighs, but they are empty, and his vest is on the floor by the door, where his boots are. he feels your warmth even through the layers, and he leans towards it without thinking.

you kiss the side of his head, cupping under his chin gently.

"tired, simon?" you coo softly. "'s alright. we should get you in bed. been a long day."

"mm...olright," he murmurs, and you look up at him as he stands, and he towers over you, making you feel small, but safe. he's a bear, and he's yours, and he's staying.

you take his hand gently, and he follows you. you stand side-by-side in the bathroom, and you smile at him in the mirror as he unzips his windbreaker, revealing the hoodie underneath. his eyes meet yours, and he winks, and you smile wider, especially when his hand falls, smacking your ass nice and firm.

"wot, luv? somethin' funny, yeah?"

you shake your head and laugh, and then you reach for the headband in the drawer, slipping it over you as you prepare to wash your face. you slip a few products out onto the counter, and your mouth goes dry when simon grips his mask from the back of his head and pulls it completely off.

he is so handsome. his nose is crooked; he's broken it a few times, that's for sure. there's a scar deep across his face, jagged over his lips, and you've felt it when you've kissed him before, but it's jarring to see it. there's a few more across his other cheek, along his forehead, and you break out into nervous giggles as you meet his dark eyes. the eye-black around his eyes has shifted with the fabric of the mask and with sweat, but he still looks hot.

really hot.

you swallow hard and turn the sink on, wetting your hands. simon reaches to do the same, and you watch as he brings his wet hands up and starts to wash his face. immediately, the eye-black just smears, and he has to move more over the sink as he continues to wash.

"simon?"

"'s olright. just takes a few minutes for it to come off."

you smile, "here, i...let me help."

he turns the water off, wiping his face on his sleeve, and you giggle when he looks into the mirror and realizes all he's done is smear the black across his cheeks. he laughs with you, deep and gravelly, and you reach into the drawer and pull out two bracelets made of absorbent fabric.

"give me your hands," you say softly, and he does, and you slip the bracelets over his wrists. "keeps the water from running down your arms."

"fuckin' annoyin' when it does that," he grumbles, and you smile. you reach across the counter, opening a small jar.

"it's called double cleansing. you take this balm--" you get a dime-sized amount onto your finger and you put it into his hand, "--and then you rub it into your hands until it becomes...kinda oily. it'll take off all of...that--" you motion to the black streaks along his face.

"oi, are y'on the piss?" he laughs, "it'll take it oll'off?"

you giggle and nod, "yeah. try it."

he rubs his hands together, warming up the balm, and then he reaches up and massages it into his face. you watch, biting back more laughs, when he realizes how much easier the eye-black moves, coming off onto his hands. when he washes it off, it's nearly gone, and then you give him a dollop of face wash to help rinse the rest away. he dries his face on a towel, grinning in the mirror, and you hug his arm gently as he takes the bracelets off.

your eyes meet again in the mirror, and he smooths his hands down your waist, moving you in front of him, leaning over your and putting his face into your neck. he warms the skin there with soft kisses, and you laugh, buzzing with delight.

"you're so beautiful, luv," he growls in your ear, and you close your eyes.

"you're...y-you're beautiful, too, simon."

"yeah? come off it."

never. you'll never come off whatever high you're on now. you reach up and hold onto him, as much as you can grab, and you close your eyes as you kiss, his lips on yours, something hot in your chest and something soft in your insides.

you hold onto him tighter. you will not let go.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon thoughts

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skzdarlings · 2 months

Text

lady-like ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by anonymous: ❛ i'd say you need someone to put you in your place. ❜ W CHAN I BEG OF YOU + original ask: requested by anonymous: “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address”+ Chan <3

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: enemies to lovers, established lovers. criminal!chan, masked!chan. dom!chan, sub!reader (background mentions of switching). choking, floor sex, rough sex, dirty talk. brief mention of some sexism in the workplace. word count: 2050 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

It is the middle of the night and you are patrolling the art gallery yourself. You do not trust your colleagues or the security team tonight. No one believes there is any way to track the SKZ gang but you have found an undoubted pattern. That motley band of thieves have struck this gallery more than once, making off with paintings and artifacts alike, but tonight you will catch them.

Tonight you will catch him.

Your thought conjures him like a devil. You turn a corner and a gloved hand escapes the shadows, covering your mouth. You are yanked backwards, right into his chest, your back to his front.

You feel a moment of satisfaction because ha, you were right. No one believed you but you knew SKZ would strike tonight.

Then you are furious because those rotten thugs are probably making off with a priceless artifact while their leader holds you hostage.

“Hey there,” Bang Chan says in that too-friendly drawl. “How’s my favourite girl tonight?”

You try biting his hand but the leather of his glove is quite thick. Probably on purpose. You have left more than one bite mark on him in past encounters.

“Ah-nah-nah,” he says, steadying you when you wriggle. “Stop that. We both know how this ends. Let’s play nice this time instead, yeah?”

You answer by stomping on his foot and throwing your head back. The smack surprises him and he stumbles, giving you an opportunity to turn and brace yourself in a more defensible stance. You face him, hands up, adrenaline thundering through your body.

Chan is wearing all black, including a beanie and mask. He removes the hat, revealing hair just as black, but keeps the mask while rubbing his jaw. The half-hidden face somehow makes the dark intensity of his eyes look even more severe.

You and Chan have a played a long game of cat-and-mouse. You are so used to his teasing that you almost forget he is dangerously competent man. A criminal. A criminal you despise. A criminal who is undoubtedly grinning at you under that mask, given the way his eyes crinkle with mirth. It should not make your heart race.

“Ouch,” he says. He takes a step towards you, inching out of the shadows. “You’ve been training. Impressive.”

“Not like I had a choice,” you snap. “Some no good criminal keeps attacking my art gallery.”

“Criminal, yeah,” Chan says. “But no good? Really?” He flicks a hand your way, not so much striking as testing your reflexes. You bat it successfully and his eyebrows lift, showing he is moderately impressed.

“You’re a dirty thief,” you say, taking a swing of your own. Yours is much more deliberate, swinging at his head, but he dodges just as easily.

You scamper backwards, his booted steps following swiftly. You keep your hands up in defense. He is still smirking under that mask.

“Thief, yeah,” he continues to tease. “But dirty? Well… I suppose you’d know…”

Heat pulses under your skin.

This cat-and-mouse game has crossed many lines. You cannot even remember how it first happened. It feels like Bang Chan has always been in the shadows, stealing paintings and kisses alike. One moment you were snarking at the infuriating cat burglar, then your hands were in his hair and his mouth was on yours.

Sometimes he wins, distracting you or holding you, giving his team time to make off with something. Sometimes you win, trapping him or his men and only letting them go if they relinquish their prize. Weirdly, Chan seems to like it when you outsmart him. It quite literally puts him on his knees.

Flustered, your next swing is more emotional than strategic. He catches your arm and spins you again, trapping you against his body. You grunt and struggle in his arms.

“That’s not very polite, you know,” he says. “I thought you said you were a lady.”

Yes, you have made such an insistence in the past, reminding him you are a lady of class, an educated woman, an intelligent academic. He did not argue. He did pin you to the wall and choke you in that infuriatingly delicious way, the way that gets you coming all over his hand in a second. That’s it, he said, with a hand around your throat and another under your skirt. Tell me what a lady you are. Letting a criminal like me make you come. Tsk, what would your co-workers say?

You stamp the memory down because it is getting you hot. He is holding you differently than before, so you cannot swing your head back again. You writhe uselessly.

“I didn’t just say I was a lady,” you snap. “I am a lady. I am a respected professional, unlike you—”

“I’m respected and professional, thank you,” he says, his tone still bright like he is having fun.

It is fun. You hate to admit it, but it is. Before he started breaking into your galleries, every day was the same. Your life was such a monotony and you dread returning to it. There is a reason you never call the authorities on him. There would be no triumph in that demise. You would lament his absence and forever feel like business went unfinished.

You are satisfied when you can face this dangerous man and win, when you can push him on his back and put him in his place, when all that danger and power and skill surrenders to you and you alone. Because Bang Chan has a notorious reputation for a lot of things, but fraternizing with civilians is not one of them.

Except you.

Except right now.

“You know what I say, little miss lady?” he asks.

He gives you no time to answer. Your breath catches when he circles that gloved hand around your throat and squeezes. It softens every part of you immediately, like a kitten grabbed by the scruff, instinctively and animalistically submissive in the claws of something powerful.

You whimper, your knees going weak. You know you are wet. You know he knows.

He pulls you against him. You can feel every hard plane of his body, his bulky body armour, his weapons. You feel either a buckle or his bulge against your body, but either way it is irrevocably suggestive. When you wriggle, he squeezes your throat, and you go pliant again.

“I’d say,” he whispers, “you need someone to put you in your place.”

Oh, he has talked about your place many times before. It’s with me, he will insist, fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come again and again, putting you on your knees and bringing out all the hidden dark and dirty parts of yourself. Come on, he will say, we’re perfect for each other, yeah? You know it. Join my team. Come with me.

You do admit, he respects your keen eye and talent, and he acknowledges your expertise far more than the other people at your gallery. It took a year to even be allowed to do substantial tasks, relegated to fetching everyone’s coffee, getting spoken down to because you were a woman whose ambition was considered a nuisance.

That is not enough to resort to a criminal life. Surely?

But for a moment, you can imagine giving into the darkness permanently. Tonight, it is you that surrenders as he drags you both into the shadows and onto the floor. He takes off his jacket and lays it out, pushing you down face-first onto it. You take a dizzying gulp of air while his hands are occupied, removing his gloves, unbuckling his utility belt.

You wait for the moment he lifts your skirt. His breath catches when he realizes you are not wearing anything underneath.

You yelp because he smacks your ass. You look back at him with as much fury as you can muster in your haze of lust.

“A lady,” he says, grabbing your hips and tugging you back. “Sure.”

“I am,” you say, but your voice is rough, your breathing heavy just from his bare fingers gliding down your wet pussy, the evidence of your desire betraying your claims of propriety.

“Sure, baby girl,” he says, because he knows it annoys you even while it makes you clench. He can see the evidence of that too, swearing as he looks at you, making you feel even more exposed and flustered. “You’re made for me, you know that, sweetheart? Always feel so good on my dick. God.”

“You’re taking your time tonight,” you say dryly. “Getting sentimental? Turning into the slow and gentle type?”

He laughs. Then he grabs you by the neck, pinning you to the floor as he sidles up behind you. The head of his cock presses at your entrance, wet with anticipation.

“You want gentle?” he asks. He is inside you with one deep thrust. “Wrong fucking address.”

The truth is, even when rough, he is careful. Your face never leaves his jacket and he knows where to squeeze and hit and press properly. Bizarrely, ridiculously, you are safe in this criminal’s dangerous hands. The biggest threat they pose are just how skilled and deft they are, making you forget about all of those details as he manhandles you and fucks your worries away.

He wraps a hand around your throat and lifts you. He is still in his mask, still almost entirely clothed except his undone fly. Your skirt is up, your shirt in disarray, your chest and throat exposed to his hands. You can hear him panting into his mask, your own breath as wild until he steals it. You clench around him, making a weak, ragged sound as he chokes you and pounds into you.

“You’re not gonna come like this, are ya?” he taunts, because he knows your body well, can feel you are the on verge just from his angles and rhythm. “Tsk,” he says. “That’s not very lady-like.”

You would tell him to shut up, but you can only manage a weepy moan as he drives you over the edge of a mind-numbing orgasm. You feel drenched, dripping down your thighs, and he still doesn’t relent, pushing you back down and holding your hips as he drills through every sensitive nerve.

“Fuck,” you say, twisting your fingers around his jacket. Your knees will probably be bruised after this. No short skirts or everyone will know something happened. Would they guess you let the most notorious burglar in the country arch your back and fuck you on the floor? Probably not. You have always been a stickler for rules.

Until this. Until him.

“Chan,” you say, breathless, rasping. “Chan.”

“Fuck,” he says. Then the weight of him is on your back, his hips grinding into yours. His masked face brushes your ear and he speaks in a low voice, “Guess where I’m coming tonight, baby girl.”

Your walls are still fluttering with aftershocks, pulling him deeper at his words. It is not the first time, no. God only knows how long ago that conversation first happened, telling him it was safe, how much you wanted it. Letting him do things you never let anyone else do. Breaking all your rules for him.

“Fuck, Chan,” you say.

“Yeah, baby,” he rasps. “That’s who’s fucking you. No one fucks you like I do. God. You can take it. So good.”

You can feel when he comes, his chest vibrating with his groan, the warmth inside you. You slump in his arms, ravaged and sore and not the least bit sorry for it.

You should be. He won this round. You should be furious at him. You should be threatening him. Your usual rapport.

His mask comes off. You hear it hit the floor. Then he is grabbing your jaw and turning your face and kissing you deeply. He holds your throat, not threateningly but possessively. He is kissing you for so long, you almost forget who you are. Then you surface. You look at each other.

“Come with me,” he says.

The haze of lust has vanished. You should be thinking clearly. You fear, for the first time, you are.

You suppose he has stolen everything else, why not you too?

You put your hand in his.

#bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan smut #chan smut #bang chan x you #chan x you #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz smut #stray kids smut #valentinesdaystories

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rileyslibrary · 9 months

Text

Ghost rushes to your aid, only this time, it's to help with a pickle jar.

———————————————————————

“C’mere.” He orders, motioning with his hand.

You roll your eyes at him, although a slight grin forms on your lips.

“No!” you retort as you turn your back to him.

He sighs, leans back into the kitchen chair, and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Although he still wears his skull mask, you can imagine a smug expression on his face as he observes your failed attempts at opening that pickle jar.

You wipe your hand on your trousers, then grasp the lid, using your other hand to stabilise the jar. You take a deep breath and hold it in as you squeeze and twist with all your might. But the darn thing doesn’t budge—an oddity since you opened that jar fairly easily yesterday.

“You look like you’re about to fart.”

“Shut up, Ghost.” You snap through gritted teeth.

“What you do clearly doesn’t work,” he states firmly. “Just give me the fucking jar.”

You exhale, relax your grip and shoot him a threatening look.

“No,” you snap again, pointing at him with the jar. “I got this.”

He lifts the fingers that are resting on his bicep and shakes his head.

“It’s too tight, love.”

“It’s not tight,” You reply and knock on the jar’s lid twice. “It’s stuck.”

“Knocking on the bloody lid?” He chuckles softly. “What’s next? Asking the pickles to open up from the inside?”

“Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not,” he replies softly. “It just needs...”

“-a knife.” You interject.

He follows you with his eyes as you march over to the utensil drawer. You slide it open and pull a knife out.

“That’s a bread knife.” He states.

“So what?” You say, waving the knife, “Bread knives are still knives.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he replies. “There are other ways to open that jar.”

“I’ve tried other ways.”

“You haven’t tried mine.” He murmurs, seemingly unmoved, brushing lint from his thigh.

You roll your eyes again and place the jar on the kitchen counter. Ghost leans further back in his chair to get a better visual of what you’re about to do.

“You’re going to get hurt.” He warns you.

You brush his statement off and focus on the jar. You stabilise it with one hand and put the bread knife between the glass and the lid with the other. You pull on the knife, trying to pry open a small opening. However, the knife loses grip and comes flying dangerously close to your ear.

Ghost pushes the chair with the back of his legs and mutters a sharp “fuckin’ hell” as he rushes towards you.

“You alright?” He asks and grasps your wrist.

“I’m fine,” You reply, defeated.

His hand lets go of your wrist and travels up to your neck. He inspects your ear, making sure you’re not hurt, then grasps your shoulder.

“Why won’t you let me try?” He asks softly.

You sigh, grasp the jar, and slam it on the counter.

“Because you’ll make fun of me just like the others,” you murmur.

“They make fun of you,” He says, pointing at the jar, “for this?”

“For my strength!” You elaborate. “Why do you think this jar is so tight? They’re doing it on purpose, so I ask for their help.”

He chuckles and tightens the grip on your shoulder.

“Nobody is doing that to the lids.” He comforts you. “The refrigerator cools the container and makes the lid shrink.”

You shoot him a threatening side-eye.

“Don’t gaslight me, Lieutenant.”

He throws his head back and sighs.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, “even if they’re purposely tightening the lids, there’s always a better way to unscrew it than hurting yourself.”

“Let me guess,” you sneer, “the solution is to ask you to do it for me instead?”

“No,” he replies, turning the faucet to the hot water. “If you don’t have the muscle—”

“Hey!”

“If you don’t have the grip,” he corrects himself, “you should use your brain instead. As a matter of fact, you should always use your brain first.”

He removes his glove and puts his hand under the faucet. He takes the jar and places the lid under the tap, allowing the water to run on it for a few seconds. Finally, he turns the faucet off, wipes the cap with a towel, and hands it to you.

“Here,” he says, “try now.”

You take the jar and place your hand on the warm lid. You twist it, and it pops right open. You look at the loosened cap and throw it on the counter.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“No need to thank me,” he replies softly. “You did it.”

You study his eyes behind his mask; they’re smiling. You extend that pickle jar to him.

“Want a pickle?” You ask and shrug one of your shoulders.

He shakes his head. “You can have ’em,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I need to start the induction for the recruits.”

You nod as you watch him gather his belongings. He is one of the most ruthless operators on base, and you’ve experienced the violence he is capable of causing on the battlefield. Yet, here he is, offering gentle guidance, advising you to ‘use your brain’ instead of brute force. Not only that, but once he managed to work his way into the jar—clearly twisting the cap with that towel and loosening it—he praised your ‘efforts’, claiming that ‘you did it.’

You take a pickle from the container and put it in your mouth.

How many times has he assisted you behind the scenes, making things easier for you and rushing to your aid, only to later praise your work and efforts, even though he was the orchestrator behind it all? Is that the reason the other soldiers make fun of you?

You take another pickle from the jar and drive it to your mouth, only to stop midway.

The question you’re trying to answer is not how often he acted chivalrous towards you, but...

“Why?” You shout as he walks towards the door, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He stops and turns to you, gripping the door frame. His eyes still smile, but another emotion is lingering behind them this time. He lifts his hand and points to the side of his head.

“Use your brain,” he replies before returning to the door and leaving the kitchen.

———————————————————————

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azulhood · 5 months

Text

Danny and Jazz were almost at the end of their rope.

They've checked almost everyone they knew who would take them in.

Sam's family? Didn't want them living under the same roof as their daughter.

Mr Lancer? He did actually want to take them in but his one bedroom apartment was not a suitable place for kids to live and his teachers salary couldn't afford to support three people.

Tucker's family? Got shut down by Vlad.

Which was the end of the list of who could get custody, well living at least.

There was no way either of them were living with Vlad, and with that in mind, they decided to get creative.

--------------------

When Edward woke up, sitting at an old interrogation table in what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse (don't ask him which one, gothem had too many) and splitting pain in his head from most likely getting knocked out, his first thought was I knew it.

Gotham rogues had been disappearing only to reappear the next day with no memory and often in bad shape, like black mask and Bane.

Some of the rogues, such as penguin and Ivy, believed that they would be safe from the next attack.

Edward was slightly more pessimistic.

And it turned out he was right.

"ahem." Noise brought his attention to the warehouses other occupants.

Two teenagers.

It was strange to think that these two put Bane into a coma, but Edward had spent most of his nights getting the stuffing beaten out of him by a child wearing the colours of a traffic light so he was suitably wary.

"How can I help you?" Being polite was always a good idea when kidnapped by possible meta children (because no normal person could walk away from a fight with Bane, the bats don't qualify as normal.)

"Hi, I'm Jazz and this is Danny." The red head introduced herself and the blue eyed boy next to her. "Nice to meet you Mr Nygma."

"Nice to meet you as well." His mouth responded on autopilot as he panicked over being addressed by name, no one who kidnapped him did that ( which was mostly the bats taking him back to Arkham after another foiled plan) unless they were Amanda Waller.

"Right, now that we all know each other, let's get started." Danny said pulling out a sheet of paper and star themed pen from somewhere.

"Get started on what?" Torture? Edward would really like to know if that was the case.

"The interview." Jazz explained " You just have to answer a few questions then you get to go, after we wipe your memory of course, we have someone who we don't want knowing we're in Gotham."

"Oh, of course." Edward replied faintly as he processed the information given to him.

"And if you get job we'll contact you in a week." Danny added as he twirled his pen. "Got it?"

"Yes." Edward had never been more confused in his life.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #if you can't get your own responsible adult then store bought is fine #everyone in Gotham is confused #the bats have no idea whose kidnapping villains and why #Jazz and Danny just want someone they can trust as their guardian #do they care if that someone is a villain? no #anyone is better then Vlad #does Red Hood count as a rougue?#if so he gets an interview too

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drchucktingle · 1 year

Note

Something I’ve been curious about if it wouldn’t break the bit: are you one buckaroo or several sharing a name and persona?

greetings bud thank you for asking FIRST OF ALL want to say to you or anyone reading this post that i am not upset over this question and i am not upset with you. you have kindness in your trot and i know you are just asking to prove love in your own way. buds reading this please do not harass this person in fact maybe give them a follow or a like, they are trying their best.

OKAY NOW THAT IS OUT OF THE WAY i will talk on my feelings of this with simple statement:

this is not a bit.

i understand it can be difficult to accept this for some, especially in world where absurdity and cynical humor is so popular, but i am very sincere. even though i make jokerman jokes sometimes, even in my writing, tinglers are not supposed to be funny as a concept. if you laugh at them that is TOTALLY OKAY i understand this way when confronted with something out of the box but that is not the point of them at all. the point is that LOVE IS REAL for everyone (there are other points but that is a broad one)

now on to why i trot my trot in this way. first off is to protect my privacy this is simple enough. when i talk on son jon or sweet barbara or any other way i am adding a layer of secrets by changing names or relations or towns but that is just a fancy outfit for the real truth. i am NOT creating a character, i am protecting myself.

second and more important is that when i TALK IN MY UNIQUE WAY i am expressing myself without masking, which is something old chuck does every single day out there in the world as someone on the autism spectrum. i am VERY GOOD AT MASKING you would probably not know chuck was autistic when talking to me unless you were a close bud. but unfortunately this masking way creates very real tension in my body. i have trotted with CHRONIC PAIN for most of my life heading to emergency rooms where kind and handsome t-rex doctors could not figure out what the heck was goin on. basically LIVED in the dang emergency room. eventually chuck learned i carried my body TOO TIGHT from masking all the time, but what i realized is that allowing myself a space to type freely without way of punctuation or other restrictions and LETTING MY HEART SING to just be myself without masking made this tension release. pain started going away. GRAND IRONY of course is that when im trotting as chuck i wear a pink mask to take off my OTHER MASK of a neurotypical bud.

that is why i protect my way of speaking freely as well. if someone says 'well you need to talk like this right now' i stand tall and say NO BUD THIS IS MY SPACE AND I WILL EXPRESS MYSELF IN THIS WAY AND YOU AN TROT ON IF YOU WANT. this is firm boundary for me and my health.

anyway buckaroo to sum that up again: yes i am one person and this is not a bit

if you want to know more about my way on the autism spectrum i wrote a tingler about how it feels to have others say you are 'playing a character' and not actually neurodivergent. i think tumblr buds might enjoy so i will add it down here LOVE IS REAL thank you for your question

NOT POUNDED BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF SOMEONE ELSE'S DOUBT IN MY PLACE ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM BECAUSE DENYING SOMEONE'S PERSONAL JOURNEY AND IDENTITY LIKE THAT IS INCREDIBLY RUDE SO NO THANKS

#chuck tingle #character #neruodivergent #masking #autism #autism spectrum #tingleverse #love is real #tingler #good talks with buds #buckaroo lifestyle

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