do people who disregard photosensitivity realize that seizures can fucking kill or do they just not care. do people not realize that their "aesthetic" "cool" flashing lights that happen without SUFFICIENT warning... are fucking capable of killing people. i dont even care if i sound pissy right now because i am pissy, im sick of feeling like myself and others with epilepsy arent even afforded the right to be an afterthought to most people. im not even photosensitive but ffs this shit makes me so angry.
seizures themselves can be deadly if they go on too long, theyre essentially electrical overloads in the brain, you know, that organ that controls the entire rest of the body? and seizures can result in injuries or death from falls. from choking on our own vomit. from drowning in our own bathtubs, if we think we might be safe to bathe and then get proven wrong. maybe someone just wanted to watch a video or movie while they took a spa day.
did you know that epileptics are more likely to die younger than those without epilepsy, with all those risks and more? and have you heard of SUDEP? sudden unexpected death in epilepsy, death without a known cause, a rare but very real possibility for us. it kills approximately 1 in 1000 epileptics a year, if not more since it may not be accurately tracked. thats thousands of us dead a year. we do not need you to add to our death rates.
"all these things are known risks, epileptics just have to be more careful-" epileptic people should not have to be on constant fucking high alert. how about instead, people just learn to give a shit about life threatening disabilities? it takes so little effort to just offer a CLEAR and VERY OBVIOUS warning AHEAD OF TIME, for a SIGNIFICANT AMOUNT OF TIME, before your stupid flashing lights. or just dont add them at all. are they necessary? are they really necessary? would you really fucking rather photosensitive epileptics have to be constantly on guard, IMPOSSIBLY on guard, rather than you just considering their safety? nobody can anticipate every instance of unexpected flashing lights they might come across. but you, creators, are able to provide warnings, and if for any reason you arent, then hire someone else to edit the warnings in or just get rid of the fucking lights altogether.
again, my epilepsy is not photosensitive, but i will never stop being protective of my photosensitive siblings. my own life is scary enough with the form of epilepsy i have, i cannot imagine how terrifying it must be to have to maneuver through the world with photosensitivity, and i dont want careless assholes to go killing my fucking community because you dont give enough of a shit to worry epileptic people. i am pissed off and emotionally exhausted and the shit with elon musk having a flashing gif on his twitter account was the straw that broke my back today so youre getting a pissed off PSA. everyone better start doing a whole damn lot better.
link to the CDC page about SUDEP
link to the epilepsy foundation site page about seizure risks
people without epilepsy are encouraged to reblog but know that i am already angry and will not tolerate bullshit on this post. give a fuck about other peoples lives and safety or im blocking you.
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idk why but dried fruit with Touya-nii's natsuo sounds like it could be rlly cute!! if it hasn't been claimed yet i'd love to see that
prompt: dried fruit
series: touya-nii
warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, stepcest, toxic relationships, implied drug addiction, facefucking, natsuo being scummy just like his older brother taught him to
words: 1k
waaah sorry this wasn’t really cute anon >.< but i hope you enjoy anyway!
“These aren’t the same as gummies,” you mumble out through a pout, taking a particularly vicious bite out of a dried apricot, fruit sticky and stringy.
“No, but they’re better for you.”
“Not better for your teeth.”
“If you want to get technical,” Natsuo begins, fixing you with a look. “They are, even if it’s only marginally.”
With a sigh, you glance down at the coffee table, chucking your half-finished apricot on the wood with a dense splat. “They’re yucky, and I don’t like them.”
“You don’t have to eat them,” Natsuo reminds you, voice hardening. “They’re merely meant to be a substitute for your apparent gummy candy addiction.”
“How come you and Touya-nii get to have vices, and I don’t?”
It’s brave, bold, a grumbled out statement that sounds as crumpled as your forehead looks, that slips unconsciously from your lips, your eyes widening a little as the last bit leaves your tongue.
Natsuo’s surprised, too, abundantly evident in the widened eyes mirroring yours and the soft rush of air that leaves his mouth.
Muscles stiffening, you brace for the impact, for the bellowing and the berating you’re sure is to follow after such a rude remark, expression teetering on a wince, anticipating the blow.
But then the shock fades from Natsuo’s face, a peculiar type of amusement eating through it, and he laughs, loud and deep, enough to send gentle tremors through the hardwood floor.
“You’ve got a bit of spitfire in you today!” he hollers, smile so wide you can see the dried fruit welded to his molars, muted colours filling the dips and dimples. “Oh, if niisan could have heard you say that...”
And although it’s sighed out in amusement, the sentence makes your heart plummet, ice curling around your organs, slow and steady, and you shiver, skin rippling from the impact.
“Please don’t tell Touya-nii I said that,” you nearly whimper out, an automatic plead, desperate and wavering with the threat of tears.
Your statement seemingly sobers him, eradicating all remnants of amusement from his face. He regards you carefully, a hint of suspicion tainting his features; narrowing his eyes, screwing up a corner of his mouth. “Why shouldn’t I?”
It’s in these moments that you see a flash of Touya, a residual film of Touya’s impact, glimmering in gunmetal eyes.
“He deserves to know when you’re being a brat, doesn’t he? How else is he supposed to correct your behaviour otherwise?”
It’s difficult to tell if Natsuo’s actually serious, facial features expertly schooled into a mask of passivity, a talent passed down and perfected from his big brother.
“I—I didn’t mean it, I swear! I was jealous; it was just a stupid thing that came out of my mouth!”
“And that somehow justifies your bratty behaviour? Irregardless of the reason why you said it, you still said it. That’s the important part here.”
“I—No, of course not,” your head is shaking, hard and fast, tears rapidly collecting in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I just—I shouldn’t have said that. Please—”
“Apologies don’t teach lessons, sweetheart.”
His arms cross over his chest, muscles bulging against the hem of his short sleeves, and he raises a brow in question. The corner of his lips twitches, threatening to grow into a lopsided smirk, but his eyes are sharp, gleaming with shards of inquisition.
“Please, Natsuo, I’ll do anything,” you whimper, the words trembling and airy, beseeching gaze darting around his face. The thought of disappointing Touya, of upsetting him, is more than you can possibly bear, a deep, heavy ache taking root in your chest, sinking through flesh and blood to settle at your core. “Just don’t tell Touya.”
Anything turns out to be taking his intimidatingly impressive cock down your pretty little throat.
It’s fucking massive; so thick you can barely fit a fist around it and ivied with gorging veins that twine around the shaft, throbbing in time with each surge of blood rushing southward. It’s already leaking, so much that pre-cum has rolled down the head to collect in his foreskin, milky and pearlescent; so much that it paints the back of your throat in one bitter stroke of translucent ivory as he shoves himself into your waiting mouth.
It’s over surprisingly quickly; Touya-nii likes to fuck your throat, too, rougher and faster than Natsuo did, and usually can’t cum until he’s made a thorough mess of your face—eyes so overflowing with tears that your lashes are soaked, clumped into spikes with teardrops teetering at the points; salt and sweat streaking your cheeks, all shiny and crusty and dry and tight; spit and pre-cum steadily oozing from the corners of your lips, dribbling down slow and viscous to glaze your chin and drip off your jaw.
But Natsuo doesn’t seem to need any of that, filling your mouth with thick, hot cum the moment after a singular tear breaks free from your wet lashes, streaming down your cheek and leaving the prettiest glittering trail in its wake.
As it turns out, none of this even matters, Touya arriving home from his workday with a knowing grin on his face, eyes alight with the thrill of it all.
He doesn’t even need to say anything.
You can read his facial expressions almost as well as he can read yours, now.
“Natsuo!” you cry, gaze flying to his face. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”
The words quiver with your bottom lip, too stringy and whiny than you intended.
“Aw, don’t act so upset,” Natsuo waves you off with a hand, though mirth shines on his face, chiseled into his smile, swimming in his eyes. “You know the guilt would’ve eaten away at you anyway, and you would’ve ended up telling him on your own. I just sped up the process.”
The betrayal stings, cheeks prickling with fire as if he had physically backhanded you, but you should’ve known better; how could you have been so stupid, so naive, to believe that he’d actually keep a secret for you, that he’d actually ever go against his big brother, your big brother, for you?
Because Natsuo preens beneath his big brother’s praise, straightens his spine and puffs out his chest when Touya claps an approving hand on his shoulder, clamping down and digging into plush muscle. Because Natsuo smiles so brightly, so widely it must hurt his face, lips stretching and cheeks bunching up, when Touya tells him he did a good job.
And, really, how could you ever compete with that?
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