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#they're just so FINICKY MAN
cy-cyborg · 7 months
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Tips for wring amputees: its ok if your amputee can't repair their own prosthetics
There's a trope in fiction for amputees to always be these mechanical geniuses who can make and repair their own prosthetics, endlessly tinkering away and improving them. This isn't a particularly trope, and i dont think its harmful or anything, but in reality, prosthetics are REALLY, REALLY complicated, and a lot of amputees cant do their own repairs. And thats ok. Like, prosthetic creation and repair is way, way harder than I think people expect. Well outside the skillset of your standard mechanic, handy man or craftsperson.
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People who make and repair prosthetics are called prosthetists. To become a prosthetist, most countries around the world today require you to have completed a bachelor's degree in specifically in prosthetics and orthotics, which covers not only how to make a prosthetics (and orthodics) but a great deal of medical knowledge, physics, how different forces impact "non-standard" bodies, the additional biological wear-and-tear that comes with being an amputee and so much more. This will qualify you to do the job of fitting/making the prosthetic socket (the part that attaches to your body) and putting premade components together to make a functioning device. On top of this, many prosthetists are also expected to have artistic skills, sewing skills, good physical strength and dexterity, IT skills, and more recently, knowledge of 3D modelling and printing.
You want to make all the high-tech components the prosthetists put together to make the full prosthetic? The requirements for that vary country to country, but most will require at least some level study in the field of engineering and/or medicine, on top of what was already required for the prosthetics course.
The reason for all this is because even "basic" prosthetics are extremely finicky, and messing up one thing will have a domino effect on the rest of the body, especially in more complicated prosthetics. It can also result in people getting severally injured if anything is even slightly off. many leg amputees for example end up with spinal issues due to extremely minor issues with their prosthetic that weren't caught until years later, and by then the damage had been done.
Some amputees do learn to do basic repairs. This is most common in places like the US, where a visit to the prosthetist can cost hundred to thousands of dollars (depending on your insurance), but it's also quite common in rural parts of countries like Australia, where cost isn't an issue but access is due to vast distances between major cities. I was personally in this category; as a kid, my nearest prosthetist was 6 hours away. My prosthetist was able to teach my dad, who later taught me, how to do some of the simple repairs, but we still needed to go in every few weeks for the more complex stuff (Kids prosthetic need more adjusting than adults because they're still growing. Also I was rough on my prosthetics and broke them a lot lol).
But even after being taught how to do repairs and having my prosthetics for 20+ years, I only ever did these sorts of repairs to my below-knee prosthetic. I will not do any repairs of any kind to my above knee leg, which is much more technologically complex. Every time I tried, I made it worse to the point where the leg was unusable. I just leave those repairs to the guy who went to university to learn how to do it, and sometimes even he needs to send it off to someone with even more specialist knowledge when it's really badly messed up lol. Last time that happened Australia post lost the package. Not really relevant to this post, I just find the idea of it being sent to the wrong place by accident hilarious, it was one of my more realistic legs too so someone probably had a heart attack when they opened that package lmao.
Anyway, back on track lol.
This isn't even touching on the fact that on some more advanced prosthetics, many features are actually locked behind a security barrier only prosthetists can access. My prosthetic knee has an app on my phone I can pair it to, that allows me to change certain settings and swap between certain modes for different activities that tell the leg to change its behaviour depending on what I'm doing (e.g. a mode for running, a mode for cycling etc). but most of the more in-depth settings I can't access, only my prosthetist can, and he can only gain access to those settings with a security key given to him by the manufacturing company that requires him to provide proof of his credentials to receive it. I don't really agree with this btw, something about being locked out of my own leg's settings makes me feel a bit of an ick, but it's set up like this because people used to be able to access these settings and they would mess with things to the point their leg was virtually unusable. Because altering one setting had a domino effect on all the others, and a lot of folks weren't really paying attention to what they were messing with, all their prosthetists could do was factory reset the whole leg, which causes some issues too. Prosthetic arms are often similarly complex, as I understand it and have similar security barriers in place for more advanced arms. I don't know for sure though, so take that with a grain of salt.
All this to say these are incredibly delicate, finicky and complex pieces of equipment. There's nothing wrong with having a techy amputee character who can do their own repairs, but in reality, that is pretty rare, and its ok to have your character need to see a prosthetist or someone more knowledgeable than them. It's a part of the amputee experience I don't see reflected very often in media. In fact, the only examples I can think of in fiction (meaning not stories based on real people) where this is reflected are Full metal alchemist.
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technically I think Subnautica Below Zero also mentions prosthetists are a thing in that world, but its a very "blink and you'll miss it" kind of thing...in fact I did miss it until my last playthrough lol.
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bruciemilf · 10 months
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A crack treated seriously concept that I have just swimming in my mind;
Runaway sugar baby Bruce Wayne AU.
Here's the thing; Bruce and Harvey are married. Bruce may not realize they are! but they are.
Oblivious fucker really went,
" yes, I will have children with my best friend, raise them together happily, occasionally have sex, and wear this cool ring he gave me. Platonically, of course."
I think it all started when Tim came home from school, wearing a bit of a guilty expression, asking with a pinch embarrassment if Bruce could pretend to be a doctor for career day.
Bruce blinks, " I am a doctor, darling." Graduated with flying colors, mind you!
"Well, yeah, but...You know, not anymore. "
True. Ever since he adopted Jason and Tim, he just found it harder and harder to leave home. They were just too precious and he didn't want to miss a moment!
"I just don't understand why he'd lie about it."
"I can," Harvey looks so handsome, arranging his tie. He does a mess of it, but he doesn't look less tantalising,
" Little brats would be...Yknow, mean. They get finicky when they see a weak spot."
He knows it's Harvey because there's no accent melting like whisky on his mouth. " Weak spot?"
" doll, cmon, --"
" I do work, Harvey. Just because it's not defending criminals doesn't mean it's less vital."
" I knowthat. But you're also a rich guy who, let's face it, wouldn't need to work a day In his life. And that's fine by me. "
because Harvey HATED seeing his mom break her back to support their family when his father was drowning face down in debts.
He wouldn't put anyone through that, let alone his pretty little husband. But Bruce doesn't take this well.
" well! I'll show you! I'm more than capable of making it on my own, I'll prove it!"
Now. Bruce doesn't think too much. He's not an expert in it. Man can stitch up a 5 inch incision with floss, but his own well being? Leave it to Alfred.
But he'll make them proud. So next time, they don't have to lie.
He just packs up way too many luggages, packs Damian up too, and leaves while Harvey's at oh his back breaking, gruelling office job.
It's only when he's on a bus that he realizes he forgot the rest, but that'd be cruel! Their boys loved their father.
Dick, who's in his I Hate Dad phase, is extremely hysterical while they leave to find Bruce. Only stopping occasionally to fix his eyeliner, then start over again.
Jason, Harvey's second oldest, drives beside them on his motorbike.
He guesses its an extra middle finger to him to not wear a helmet. His beloved little hellion, raised on the devil's edge.
"Listen to me; If I find him, I'm moving back home. If I don't, I'll put you in the ground."
" I'll let you."
Now; Bruce does find a place. It's a little town with big characters.
Harley has a diner that she's more than happy to welcome him in, even if Bruce, Spoiled Spouse of the Year, can't quite pick up.
Anything for old roomies.
But there is someone in there who catches Bruce's attention. Towns mechanic.
Clark, his name tag says, who played with Damian behind Bruce's back while he talked to Harley.
He smells of salty motor oil; Fresh sweat, smoked apple pie. His eyes are dreamy blue, rendered with sharp cleverness. And Clark likes him.
Clark recommends him a good motel, brings Damian some toys to play with, even brings his own babies so they can have a playdate. " They're not mine. The toys! These two are. I have a receipt from the hospital."
"...A birth certificate?"
He's delightfully awkward.
When Harvey comes to pick him up, when Bruce jumps in his arms, claws at a pristine shirt stained with his brand new blisters and cracks and worked hands, he's not awkward.
He's disappointed; Like Bruce strangled the joy from his soul.
"You're...Married?"
When Bruce and Harvey respond, in perfect, consice sync, " Oh no, darling,--" " Yes he is, four eyes--" they're ALL confused.
"Oh, dear..."
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the1trueanon · 2 years
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THE MAN DEMANDS CUDDLES 💛❤️
Finally finished!! (Please click for better quality, Tumblr apparently doesn't like when I post a bunch of images.)
I just ... I'm just ... I'm obsessed XD I love these versions so much; I have all the brainrot and ideas for all three of the lads and FINE I ADMIT I SIMP FOR THE TWINS!! But in my defense they're just so pretty??? 💛💙
(Don't mind the long-haired they/them over there ... Just a character I'm working on 👀 animatronic design is being finicky right now though XD)
The infamous, glorious human AU belongs to @shandzii and @fluffffpillow
Art (and Character Unknown over there lol) by me (@the1trueanon) (2022)
....okay fine, I will relent, their name is Ann and they are part of a set of characters, and I can't wait to finally get the design to look right so I can share >w< keep an eye out, I'll be using Ann a lot, but they aren't the only one!
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fave-fight · 8 months
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ROUND 1, MATCH 7
NO MAGIC, POWERS, OR WEAPONS
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Oliver:
“I'm going to be honest he's likely going to get his ass kicked and while "canon" is finicky because of how vocaloid works this child canonically (according to their creators) eats dirt, rocks and sometimes spiders depending on what alternative universe version you have (don't ask), they are basically feral but also sweet, they're covered in bandages and I feel like they'd take a beating anyway whee propaganda over”
“Lil blonde British boi deserves the win methinks”
“I also find funny the little British boy”
“this is a tiny little british boy who eats dirt and spiders for a living just let him die in a fight it would be hilarious he survived eating tarantulas and dirt and weird things let him die via a fistfight like he should”
“This kid eats rocks and spiders. He is unstoppable. Let the Victorian child kill.”
“Small skrunkly british victorian boy swag, also itd be funny to see a 12 year old win against everyone else”
Cecil Palmer:
“in a recent episode someone was being mean to... i think either carlos specifically or the townsfolk of night vale at large? in a diner. and cecil said he swung a punch at the guy. and then there was a break, and after the break, he said "I've never punched anyone before. And I still haven't." and went on to describe how hes so fucking uncoordinated that he missed the guy completely and slammed his fist into a metal beam and injured himself.”
“I love him, but there's no way this man is winning a fight”
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sky-is-the-limit · 7 months
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I like König purely becuase tall masked man but Gaz. Our man Gaz. He's beautiful. He's committed to what he believes in and he delivers some good one liners. In my eyes it's the same shit different fandom. Whenever a popular piece of media gains traction the only poc characters mysteriously disappear. I want to make it clear to the finicky people of fandoms you don't have to read or write or draw characters you don't like.That being said a discussion needs to be had about how fandoms often treat poc characters. To see people replace the main character with someone not even evolved in the main campaign is mind boggling. "But I don't know Gaz well enough" then you don't know Price well enough seeing as they're with each other most of the campaign. "But the actors sexuality" let me tell yall now how yall don't care. There's plenty of actors whose characters you write for are married with whole ass families or of a different sexuality and you still write their characters ignoring those facts. Yall didn't care before and yall dont care now don't try and act like you have some sort of upper ground. If you're not attracted to Gaz that's fine no one is forcing you to be. But completely writing out his character or not including him in TF 141 edits is mad. There's plenty of fics I've read where Gaz is not the main love interest but more of a friend/brotherly figure but at least he is there and the writer does his character justice. But I will say the Gaz fics are some of the fluffiest ones I've read. Real heart warming stuff.
AMEN. I also thirst after König because he's a big masked man, I devour all the smut content and the edits, I'm as thirsty as the next hoe in this place, there's nothing wrong with thirsting after König or Keegan or whoever else. There's also nothing wrong with NOT thirsting after Gaz, like no one is forcing someone to like a character they don't, that's just stupid. Also if you haven't played the games because you don't have access to do so or even don't want to that's totally valid and fine, many people read the wikis/watch vids/engage with the fandom and that's really cool to see, even if you're just here to thirst, been there done that.
With that being said, the stupid excuses that raise concern in this fandom are totally valid to be talked about. 1) "I'm not attracted to Gaz/I don't add him in 141 thirst content because Elliot is gay" What does the actor's sexuality have to do with the character? As far as I know Gaz' sexuality is nowhere discussed or confirmed, same way for the rest of the characters so why on earth does Elliot's sexuality matter in this context?
I don't see this being a big deal to people who ship Ghost x Soap since Neil and Samuel are only involved with women irl because guess what? It.doesn't.matter. They're ACTORS. Their personal lives have nothing to do with the characters they portray so why is it only an issue when it comes to Gaz/Elliot?
2) "I don't know him well enough." From that it's clear that you haven't played the games cause Gaz is literally who you play as in both MW1/MW2 so you know him as much as Price and MORE than Ghost or Soap. Which again, it's totally fine but when it's paired with König who you literally don't know cause that mf has only 1 paragraph on his wiki and the only thing said about him is that he had anxiety growing up (that some people infantilize and it's weird) in freaking 141 content that he has NOTHING to do with but leave out the first member of TF141 then...?
I've had many people under my posts commenting that the way some people treat Gaz in this fandom feels kinda racist and I admit this was not my initial thought due to me being privileged enough to not have it as such but after reading all these comments it does seem that way for some (like I said many do it due to either thirsting after masked men or haven't played/bothered with the games) and it's not fucking okay cause that goes further than fiction (someone said that 'oh they're fictional, they don't care if they're included or not' yeah Emily but you're excluding a 141 member from 141 content who happens to be a poc and his VA/FA is a gay man so let's talk about it.)
To the people who get annoyed/upset that I talk about this as if I don't have the right to, if you're in a fandom you can talk about the things you don't like/criticise certain behaviour without it being "such a big deal" since we're talking about fictional characters, when people are engaging with a fandom, spend hours reading/watching/playing content, they're also allowed to talk about things they don't like in said fandom. Relax.
Anyway, stan Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick cause he's the coolest mf in MW ✌️
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piratekane · 1 year
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Has anyone asked for a 10 and 18 combo yet? 👀
not yet they haven't. so here you go.
ten: don't scare me like that eighteen: i can't lose you
Beatrice doesn't see Ava go down; she feels it.
One moment, there's a heat at her back that's so familiar - from the nights they spent back-to-back in their bed, from the days they trained back-to-back in the forests surrounding the Alps - and the next, there's an emptiness. Someone drives their fist at her. She catches it, turns his wrist over until it nearly snaps, then drives her foot into the center of his chest. His whole body deflates and he sinks to the ground.
She spins, clear eyes scanning the field. This was a routine retrieval - a grab-and-go, Ava had called it, and then suggested they go-and-grab something to eat after with a rakish grin. But between reconnaissance and arrival, the facility had obtained more guards, more security measures.
Ava had stayed at her back, sticking close. Beatrice noticed she had a tendency to do that, now that she's returned. They're hardly apart anymore; Ava is always a half of a step behind her or a half of a step ahead of her. Every time Beatrice turned to look at Ava, Ava was already looking back at her.
The attention was intoxicating. She's never been the center of someone's world before.
But Ava moves away and goes down and the emptiness Bea felt for months surges forward, nearly choking her. She spins again but things are moving too quickly, too many men, and she can't see Ava immediately.
Taking a deep breath, she centers herself. Her eyes close and she exhales. Ava is... there. This is new, too. This almost supernatural awareness of where Ava is, when she is out of reach. Beatrice focuses all her energy on that now, eyes opening just an stun baton swings down towards her. She kicks out, foot catching the man's knee and pushing it out unnaturally, eyes ahead.
Another man, another stun baton raised above his head. He's standing over Ava this time. Beatrice flicks her wrist and a throwing knife embeds itself in his arm, the baton dropping uselessly to the ground.
She follows, her body its own knife, and kicks him to his knees, jabbing two fingers into his throat. His hands goes up around it, choking out a cough, before she shoves him over. He starts to squirm away and she lets him, eyes only on Ava.
No, no, no. Ava lays there, unmoving. Beatrice drops to her knees. Her heart is pounding in her chest, beating out Ava's name over and over again. She feels for a fluttering pulse but her hands can't find the staticky rhythm of it. No, no.
Heaven took Ava once before; it's not going to get her back. Not when Beatrice is going to hold on until her fingers break.
The Halo. The Halo hasn't activated, hasn't kicked in yet. Ava said it was being - God, what did she say? Beatrice racks her mind for it. A fickle bitch. She nearly crosses herself. It had been finicky, picky about when it wanted to work. A paper cut hadn't healed all the way, leaving behind a small sliver of a cut, but the long slice down Ava's calf after she backed herself into a throwing knife was gone in a breath.
If it fails Ava now...
Beatrice takes a shaky breath and touches the Halo like she always has, presses two fingers against the top of the perfect circle, and exhales. She thinks of Ava's smile when she steals the last piece of bacon at breakfast. She thinks of Ava's laugh behind the cover of the book, Go The Fuck To Sleep. She thinks of Ava's hand sliding along her arm as she convinces Beatrice to stay in bed just a little longer. She thinks of Ava's body, warm and sleepy and pressed to her back, palm flat against her stomach as she snores gently in her ear.
She thinks - God, don't do this again and puts her fingers to the relic buried in Ava's back, believing in Ava, the highest power she knows of.
A burst of warm, golden light explodes around them. It blinds her, leaves stars in her eyes as she tries to blink her vision back into focus. She looks around when it does - bodies, strewn out along the floor in all positions; Camila and Lilith and Dora all standing with their arms over their eyes, crouched down in defense.
Ava groans under her hands. "That's one hell of a wake up call." She rolls over, body half propped up by Beatrice's knees. Her eyes flutter open and closed. "I felt that, like, all the way down to my toes. That was even better than that thing you did when you-"
"Ava," she chokes.
Ava's eyes open fully. "That thing was really good. You can't tell me it didn't completely rock your-"
"Don't scare me like that." Beatrice blinks back the tears that try to come now. "I can't-"
Ava softens, but her smile is still crooked. "Top 5 moments, for sure. Right after the time I- Hey. Hey, don't cry."
Beatrice doesn't know she is. But then Ava's hand reaches up, fingers still a little shaky and she brushes a few of them off the bottom of Beatrice's chin.
"I don't know how many times I can tell you, I can't lose you." Beatrice has to fight to get the words out, her throat closing at the idea. "You can't put me through that again."
Ava tuts but she can see the fear in Ava's eyes, the uncertainty. "Next time, I'll make sure to take your feelings into consideration."
Beatrice nods, not trusting the quiver in her voice. She runs her hand through Ava's hair, feeling a small cut fade away under her fingertips. She breathes in slowly, centering herself again. The mission means nothing to her now; they could leave and she would never care if they found what they came for. She came in with Ava and her only priority is to leave with her.
"But seriously?" Ava groans again and sits up, letting Beatrice hold onto her. "I feel like a car that's just been hotwired. It has never done that before." She turns Beatrice's hand over in hers. "What did you do?"
"I just... touched it." Beatrice frowns.
"I've always said you have the magic touch." Ava looks up as the other approach. "Lilith, don't I always say that Bea has the magic touch?"
Lilith rolls her eyes, ignoring Ava's question.
Ava leans a little heavier into Beatrice's side. "I vote Lilith goes alone the rest of the way. I definitely want to wait in the car." She lets Beatrice slide an arm under hers, standing her slowly. "Bea, we can - stop crying."
"I'm not." She is.
Ava rests her forehead in the juncture of Beatrice's neck, right where her collarbone dips in. She feels Ava breathe more than she hears it. "I'm not kidding about waiting in the car," she murmurs. "And if you want to leave an adult in charge, Dora is right there."
She hears Lilith huff, hears Dora's shoulders straighten in purpose, hears Camila laugh softly, but the sounds are drowned out by the small press of Ava's lips to the space under her chin and the squeeze of Ava's hand over hers.
They'll have time later, to figure out what happened with the Halo. They'll visit Jillian and there will be tests to run, numbers to crunch, exercises to try. Ava will hate every minute and Beatrice will have to convince her to just go along with it, make a few promises Ava will undoubtedly hold onto.
"What about tacos?" Ava asks. She grins when Beatrice gives her a withering glance. "I could settle for pancakes, if I had to."
"Ava," she chastises.
"Fine." Ava says it like it pains her. "We'll get those fancy salads you like and I'll get mine with steak, hold the lettuce. Does that satisfy Her Majesty?"
Beatrice doesn't bother with an answer, putting one foot in front of the other with Ava wrapped around her and telling herself that Ava is going to stay at her back always - even if that means she needs to tie them together for the rest of Ava's lives.
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starlightshore · 1 month
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Trying to redesign Rider
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i talk about Pumpkin a lot cause she's my top fave #1 forever
but Rider is her second half. Pumpkin is a headless horseman and she's the horse!! they're a duo. do not seperate!!!
that said rider's design has always been finicky.
I won't spoil Pumpkin to much but she is a major optimist. Rider, however, is not. She's apathetic and vile. She's a goth girl obsessed with death. The're both thrill seekers.
So I thought, hey, what's a modern horseman? A motorcycle rider. Fits the thrillseeker theme and modernizes Pumpkin. (Although, she's such a cowboy that her design doesn't really scream biker but her jacket should give enough of the vibe...)
idk. my biggest issue is that all the main cast of UT are humanoid in design. making a bipedal monster is difficult -and even harder if I want her to have wheels instead.
my solution was to give her wings! wings that can act as hands like how birds in cartoons do.
but now i'm like, oh man, i wanna make it more clear she's a motorbike. i feel that's a part of her design that's been lost over time. but in practicing drawing bikes i just??? hate how it looks? they're so complicated and adding in detail just clutters so you gotta pick the most important parts but that makes it harder to justify her wings. WHAT is Pumpkin supposed to use for handles?? her frickin EARS??
idk idk idk and i'm spinning in circles idk what to dooooooo
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desceros · 3 months
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I'm wondering since viola-chan is a viola teacher like you, how much inspiration do you take form your daily schedule to write viola-chan's work and stuff. I'm also curious just how you managed to write so much despite being a teacher because I have a friend who's a piano teacher and man she has like 5-6 students a day and I don't know how she does it and still have time for her own hobbies.
hehe, well, i'm not actually a teacher myself! so that's my answer to that one :D
i used to be on the professional musician track (including giving lessons and performing professionally for a few opera groups/orchestras), but right when i was to apply for conservatory, i had a gnarly wrist injury from overuse that ended that dream for good. in fact, i suffer from wrist pain to this day if i do too much with it. (hence why in the story, viola-chan is so particular about taking care of your wrists. that's my own personal PSA sinking in.) you are quite correct that that's a lot to do! teaching music is quite intense, especially when you get in the upper levels where finicky details make or break an interpretation. it's a lot more physical than people realize, i think, not to mention the mental stamina required.
all that said, viola-chan's schedule is essentially what a typical professional in a philharmonic's would look like. right now, since it's summer, musicians are free to do basically whatever since it's the off season. a lot of people just relax with their families, a lot of people go on sabbatical and perform elsewhere, and a lot of people—like our viola-chan—give off-season lessons for some extra moolah or because it's fun.
viola-chan is a bit unusual in that she insists on practicing in the mornings as well as giving her afternoon lessons, which is a very heavy workload when someone is supposed to be resting. for her, the idea of not working is anathema to her. she's a bit like a shark where she'll perish if she stops swimming. luckily, this is something that the turtles (and donnie in particular) are helping her with without really... telling her that they are, as seen in the latest chapter when donnie tells her to stay and not go to the practice rooms, and she stays. it's subtle, since the fic is from viola-chan's pov and she hasn't really noticed it herself, but they're helping her with her angsts as much as she's helping them with theirs.
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strawhatsoraya · 1 year
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don't block me, coward!!!! another renji x reader request bc i have issues. ummm with the prompt “don’t give me that look” and “show me” and also they're at a dinner party *makes things up* have fun *twirls around*
listen you menace!! i wrote your request. it's only been 2 months. nbd. LMAO. anyway here is some renji smut. per your request!
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ABARAI RENJI X FEM READER | NSFW
WORD COUNT: 3.6k (my condolences to everyone, I wanted it shorter but alas) CONTENT WARNINGS: voyeurism?, renji has a hard time keeping his hands to himself even in the presence of others, he doesn't care who sees, renji is mean and a bully, nipple play, biting, licking, blood play, renji is a damn freak and nothing phases him, a sprinkling of anal play, some choking, and someone gets slapped with a penis--don't ask questions, mouth fucking, if i missed something i'm sorry this man won't let me live
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Heads Up
Meetings in Soul Society were tense, formal, and absolutely boring, even with Shunsui leading. It was a change of pace from the way Yamamoto would conduct them, but it still felt as if time barely moved. 
Time was a tricky thing; finicky, ill tempered. Sometimes too much, and at others: never enough.
Just like there was never enough time for Abarai Renji to run his hands along the curves of your body. You were busy laughing with Rangiku, who spills a drink over her exposed cleavage as she giggles. Renji widens his eyes in an attempt to stop himself from rolling them. You had insisted you needed to let loose. You had clenched your jaw so tightly during the meeting, you complained of soreness. Renji watches you throw back a drink. He follows the path of a drop of sake as it trails over the edge of your chin, and down the column of your neck.
He swallows as it disappears between your breasts. 
“Rangiku!” you whine, and raise a hand to clap the blond on the back. Rangiku hiccups and leans over the table, her pale cheeks turning crimson. For someone who adored her alcohol, she had an uncanny ability to become quickly inebriated. “I’m not done talking. Hang in there!”
Renji laughs softly, a crooked smile stretching his lips. The dim interior lighting of the barracks catches one of his canines as he approaches behind you. His hands are warm over your uniform, as they trail over your hips. 
“Leave her,” he tells you, his breath hot against your ear. You smack your lips, still tasting sake coating your tongue. His chest is hard against your back as he leans into you. “She’ll down another bottle in a few minutes and be down for the count anyway.” You blink, trying to push away the heat trickling down your spine, and pat Rangiku’s arm repeatedly. 
“She invited us over, Renji,” you remind him, lips drawn thin. You tried your most firm tone. Something that you find increasingly difficult the more Renji gets comfortable kissing the soft spot behind your ear. “It is impolite.” He scoffs against your ear, one hand falling on the curve of your ass. You start to formulate another counterattack but he grips a cheek tightly, until his fingers dig into your flesh, scattering all the thoughts in your head.
Matsumoto stirs, and suddenly sits up. “Ah!” she shouts suddenly enlightened. Her smile is bright, eyes a little unfocused as she searches your face. “I have snacks. Do you want snacks? Everyone loves snacks.”
Renji’s laugh comes in low and gruff. It scratches over the nape of your neck, as he brushes your hair to the side. You swallow and clap your hands.
“I can get them for you!” you announce, stepping away from where Renji had boxed you in. You hear him groan, and you take a deep breath thankful for the reprieve. “If you tell me where you put them.”
“No!” Rangiku counters, slapping one hand on the table. She stands up suddenly, and sends her chair clattering with a swing of her hips. “Oops,” she says, and begins to reach for it, but you’re quicker, bending over to put it back upright. “Oh, thank you but–anyway–I can get them. I am the host, after all.”
Renji watches you silently, tapping one hand against his thigh. He could still smell the scent of your shampoo, and you had the audacity to bend over in his presence. His tongue darts out to lick a corner of his lips. He feels parched, so he reaches for the abandoned bottle of sake on the table; the same one Matsumoto had been drinking from. He takes a long drink, and tears his eyes away from your ass–its roundness minimized by the shapeless drape of the shihakusho. Renji didn’t often envy anything from the living, but he was beginning to think the Shinigami uniform was in desperate need for a revamp. 
He moves quietly, slides a large palm over the curve of your ass. You reach out quickly, and swat it away. “We can get it, Matsumoto,” he says congenially, his hand casually sliding over your crack. “It wouldn’t be a problem. You can stay sitting right there.” His fingers push forward, sneaking their way towards your core even over your clothes. You reach behind you and seize his wrist, the best you can manage is to just stop his movements slightly. His show of strength is  more arousing than you’d ever admit. He must sense your goosebumps, or even worse–somehow smell your arousal like a horny beast. 
You think about stepping on his foot, and just when you bend your knee, Rangiku begins moving. She waves a hand in the air as she walks towards you, and drops her hand on your shoulder. Renji’s finger starts moving again. The tip of his middle finger reaches the end of your slit, and you swallow a gasp as he rubs you over the cloth of your uniform.
“It’s okay,” she says with a small smile, her hand still on your shoulder. You bite on the inside of your cheek, when your hold on Renji’s wrist loosens. He takes advantage of your weakness, and pushes his finger forward, dipping the fabric of your uniform into your already wet pussy. “I got it. You guys wait right here.”
Rangiku looks away from you and up at Renji, lashes fluttering slightly. He smiles down at her, and her pink cheeks. There’s a glint in her eyes that makes him chuckle. Maybe she wasn’t that drunk after all.
“Take your time,” Renji says, brushing Rangiku’s hand off your shoulder, He grasps the shoulder possessively as he leans over you to peer closer at Matsumoto. His finger digs deeper into you. You taste copper as you bite down harder on your cheek. “We are very good at keeping each other entertained.”
Rangiku steps away, and you feel as if you can breathe again–although just barely. When her back is turned you swat Renji’s hand away. He chuckles next to your ear, even as you reach behind him to pinch his ass. He hisses, his gaze heated as it courses over your body. You react quickly, reach out and pinch his side. He tries to evade your attacks, laughing as his eyes sparkle with mischief. You slap his chest, and he wraps his fingers around your wrist. His warmth spreads up your arm as he pulls you into him, wraps one arm around your waist. You sense his arousal through his clothes, feel his half hardened erection against your belly. There’s a heat that pools at the pit of your stomach, one that threatens to steal away your decorum. His eyes train on your mouth, and your lips part as you take in a sharp breath.
“Don’t give me that look,” you warn him, your brows set together on your forehead. Your voice sounds convincing even to your own ears, but your legs betray you as they rub together in anticipation. Your words are useless. There were no weapons you could arm yourself with to keep Renji at bay when he looked at you the way he was looking at you right now; ravenous, fiery, all consuming.
He picks you up before you can breathe again. Tosses you on the table. The bottle of sake topples over, the last remains spilling over on the wooden top. It soaks into your black kimono, but you pay it no mind. You’re too busy brushing your tongue against Renji’s. His mouth is fire against yours; a candle’s flame to rice paper, disappearing everything within its heat. His fingers are thick and callused as he slides them over your thighs having pushed up both the black fabric and your white undergarments. 
“She’ll come back any minute,” you mumble against his mouth, his hands squeezing your thighs. You whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pulls roughly. He simply laughs at you, his breath bouncing against the apple of your cheeks, as he drags his searing mouth across your skin. 
“Maybe she will,” he says in a song, his tongue flicking out to lick your earlobe. You shiver in his embrace, his hands slipping over your hips. “Maybe she won’t.” He picks you up quickly, pulling at the fabric roughly to release it from underneath your ass. “You don’t have to worry about that.” He slips his fingers between your ass and the table, searching and gripping. You mumble against his open mouth kisses, his saliva making your bottom lip glisten.
“Don’t,” you whisper, as he bites your chin, and further down following the length of your neck. Your hands sweep over the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles rippling under your palms when he moves. “You’re always trying something.” Your fingers slither up the back of his neck, and tangle in his crimson locks. His fingers are mischievous and intrusive. They fondle the supple flesh of your ash, fingers reaching deeper and deeper towards your crack. You wiggle, trying to stop his hands with your weight.
“Come on,” he goads you in a playful whine. He scatters kisses across your cheeks, kisses the corners of your mouth. “Just the tip,” he mumbles against your jaw. You feel his lips stretch when he smiles, and you let out an unattractive squawk when he pushes the tip of one finger against your puckered hole. 
“Seriously!” you hiss angrily, pulling on his hair in a petty act of revenge, stopping his laughter short. You take his bottom lip between your teeth and bite down until you taste his blood on your tongue. He hisses, and moans when you release his lip, and presses his mouth tightly against yours for a prolonged kiss. “I hate you,” you groan, licking his injured lip.
Renji chuckles as you let go of his hair to bring your hand to his face. You brush your thumb along his wound, smearing blood across one cheek. He smiles when you touch his lip with your finger tips, his canines sharp and teasing. Gently, he nips at your fingertips.
“Ok, liar,” he says around your index finger as he sucks on it noisily. “So you hate me. I wanna see your tits.”
You pull your hand away sharply and glare at him. You have no idea where he made the connection, but have no plans on making him explain himself. It would be pointless and every second wasted was every second closer to Rangiku's return. 
“Tsk,” you click your tongue and quirk an eyebrow. Renji reaches up to brush his thumb along it. He trails hot fingers along your temple, and down your cheek. He follows the shape of your jaw, and settles his hand neatly on your throat.
“Show me,” he demands, squeezing his fingers around your throat. 
There’s a moment you hesitate, one where you consider defying him, but you know that it would only result in your shihakusho being torn apart. You undo your kimono, and your garment underneath. It falls off your shoulders, and pools around your elbows. Renji takes in the smoothness of your skin, and the thin white bandeau that keeps your tits in place.  He looks up, a brow juts up as he dons an impassive look.
“What,” you mouth as he stares at you. He shakes his head softly and reaches out. In a swift move, he yanks down your bandeau causing you to gasp. The air feels cool against your hardened nipples, and you instinctively let go of Renji to bring them to your breasts. He swats your hands away, and makes space for himself. His mouth is unforgiving, as he curls his tongue around a nipple. His hand finds the solitary breast, gripping and kneading without restraint. You try not to moan, try to keep your breathing in check, but the wetness soaking through your panties is a stark reminder of your weakness for his touch, his kisses, the heat of his skin.
He slurps as he brings the other nipple to his mouth, squeezing your breast tightly. You moan, biting down on your lip to try to keep quiet, but his mouth is so hot you fear you’ll melt if he keeps up. Your back arches when he bites down on the underside of your breast, and you bite your tongue in the middle of a cry.
“Quiet,” he tells you as he licks a wet path between your breasts. “The walls are made of paper or did you forget that little detail?” You watch him, chest heaving, as he bites across your breasts, leaving red and purple marks on your skin. You bring a hand up against your mouth and bite down on the soft pad of your palm, underneath your thumb–anything to keep from crying out again when Renji drags the tip of his wet tongue in circles around an abused nipple.
Your muffled moans are enough to drive him crazy. Renji thought he was a man of restraint. Perhaps it was delusion, an over inflated ego, but he always thought he was in control yet the way you’re reacting has him questioning everything. You jut your hips against his hardened cock, seeking out friction between your legs as he slurps loudly around a nipple. He is so impossibly hard he thinks he can’t take it for much longer. He looks up through his lashes at you, watches you shut your eyes tightly and bite down on your hand where you leave imprints in the shape of your teeth. 
You had done so good at keeping quiet. Such a good girl, he should definitely reward you if he was a better man. He contemplates challenging you, contemplates pushing you further to see how much more you can take but when he sees a trickle of blood slink slowly down your wrist he thinks better of it.
“Okay, okay,” he concedes, pulling away from your breast with a pop. His lips are glistening, and there’s a trail of drool oozing down his chin. Renji reaches for your hand, pulls it away from your mouth, and kisses your bite. He looks down at where you broke skin with a frown, and licks it gently. “You don’t want to get caught so badly you’d hurt yourself before that happens,” he mumbles against your skin. He looks up at you from where he’s kissing your palm. He laps at the little blood smeared on your skin with soft licks. “Shame on you.”
There’s a whimper in the back of your throat, one you try to swallow at the sight of Renji’s thick red tongue lapping at your small wound. It was insignificant and had stopped bleeding, but he tended to it like you were made of porcelain. 
“I told you, Rangiku will be back any minute,” you tell him, snatching your hand away.
“If you don’t want to get caught,” he says out of the corner of his crooked grin. “Since you can’t keep quiet, how about you suck my dick then.”
His smile broadens when you narrow your eyes at him. There’s a noisy breath coming your nose when you breathe out, that makes him chuckle. Wordlessly, you jump off the table, and lower yourself in front of Renji. His hand is large and heavy when he places it on your head. When you look up, he strokes your hair softly. 
“Go ahead,” he tells you, looking down his nose at you. “Be a good girl for me.”
There’s an art to finding treasure, and your fingers are sonars as they slip under layers of cloth. You find him after a few moments, and wrap both hands around his shaft. He was large, and thick and heavy. You smack your lips, feeling your mouth water. It was futile thinking you could fit all of him in, but you always tried, and he always mocked you. Your hands move gently, as you stroke him. His tip is pink, and bulbous, a shimmery glob of precum sitting temptingly on his slit. You dip forward, tongue out, eyes fluttering close to lick the precum off his cock but no sooner do you get a taste that you hear footsteps enter the room next door.
You still, frozen in the moment, as your heart seizes then runs at an alarming speed. Heat floods your veins, and blood rushes to your face. You look up quickly at Renji, seeking a plan of action, but he only tilts his head at you in confusion.
“Go on,” he mouths, his voice barely making a sound. You blink up at him, brows drawing together. You begin to protest but Renji grips your chin with a large hand, and presses down on your bottom lip with his thumb. “Open,” he whispers. You’re not sure why you obey, perhaps it’s the dark clouds behind his eyes, or the way his jaw is set, but you slacken your own and allow him to push his cock into your mouth–inch by inch until you gag.
You blink through the tears, and gag repeatedly every time Renji thrusts into your mouth. You focus on breathing through your nose, as you reach out to grab the back of his thighs. His cock barely fits in your mouth, and you look up to see him wincing, brows knitting together with each stroke. There’s a heat between your legs that grows with each snap of his hips, each little soft grunt and groan he gives.
“Teeth,” he mumbles, and grabs a fistful of your hair. He pulls out and you gasp loudly, a string of drool keeping your bottom lip and the tip of his fat cock connected. “Less teeth.”
You nod silently, eyes darting to the opposing wall. You see shadows past the shoji screens that divide the rooms of the barracks. If you could see them, could they see you? You look up at Renji, and think you should stop this lewd adventure, but he slaps his cock against your mouth, startling you back into reality.
“Come on,” he says quietly with an impish grin, one that makes you feel hot and tingly. He rubs the tip of his cock across your lips. “I thought you said Rangiku would be back any minute now.”
When you open your mouth to cuss him out, he shoves his cock inside again, making you gag. You hold on to his hips this time, shutting your eyes tight. You could hear voices next room, as you fight your gag reflex. The slick between your legs is no longer contained by your panties. You feel it slipping down your thighs. You moan as he fucks your mouth, gripping the flesh of his hips. You slide your hands towards his ass, and grab tightly, fingers pushing into his flesh with enough force to bruise.
Renji grabs fistsfuls of your hair, and looks down at you with parted lips. His pants are soft, but grow desperate with each stroke. The way you gag every time he pushes deep makes him want to go faster, but there’s tears rolling down your cheeks–the ones your lashes can’t contain, and as much as he wants to keep fucking you until you’re sobbing on his cock, he thinks there is a limit to what you’d let him get away with.
“You look so pitiful,” he tells you in a whisper. His tone is light, and teasing. “You hear that?” He asks you, and points his head next door. “Sounds like Captain Kuchiki. Wonder what he’d think if he saw you in this state.”  You blink up at him and moan, as he picks up the pace in which he’s fucking into your hot mouth. There’s drool running down your chin, and down your neck. It pools over your breasts, and seeps into your pulled down bandeau. His thrusts get faster, more violent, and your tits jiggle with each movement. You’re embarrassed at how turned on you are at the idea of someone seeing you, kneeling there, half dressed, tears running down your face as Renji fucks your mouth with his fat cock. Renji laughs softly, and strokes one of your cheeks.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asks you with a small frown. He chuckles again. You moan around his cock, the vibrations causing him to shiver. Renji closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of your tongue pressing against the length of his shaft, how smooth and hot the inside of your cheeks are. He hears the voices next door become quizzical, thinks he hears them talking about you. He smiles and bites down on his lip. What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to stop you.”
His thrusts stutter as he feels himself close. He plunges forward, shoves his cock deeper into your mouth until you’re gagging so loudly in between your moans and pants that he’s sure they can hear you next door. He pulls your head back with a yank, and uses his free hand to furiously pump his cock. You watch through your tears, the fat tip peeks through his large fist with each vicious stroke, until hot white cum shoots out. It coats your breasts, and slides down your belly. You’re trying to catch your breath, taking big gulps of air. Your legs feel numb, but Renji pulls up your bandeau, and dresses you quickly. 
He pulls you up into his arms, holds you gently, against him. You hum as you grip his arms. His breath fans across your cheek as he kisses his way to your ear and whispers: “Just a heads up: they’ve been watching us all along.”
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So...
Do you guys know that thing about creative writers with ideas (plot bunnies) and how they always seem to multiply one after the other? That's me with Twisted Wonderland AUs. I can't help it! The series just reminds me of all the stories I loved as a kid, with characters that had depth and / or developed or we got to learn more about--even if it was stupid little things they do in their everyday life! I've grown to appreciate it in ways I never imagined I could any form of media. ;;v;;
To be honest...this game has given me the creativity to consistently create and build upon ideas, and the support you all have given me has meant so much. I can't thank you all enough for sticking with me for so long, and for sending me all the ideas or scenarios you all have been daydreaming of. ;;v;;
So I wanted to give a bit of an update on a few things I'm going to do with the blog:
1) Create a rules page. I've gone far too long without updating my original set, and I feel it's long overdue 😂 Plus, it'll help me keep track of certain things!
2) Go back through and update the links on the Masterlists with posts I may have missed. I didn't realize that some things I was referencing in some of my latest posts (aka the grape incident in the monster!AU) were missing, so I'm gonna comb through my posts and make sure I label and organize them easier for you guys to find (and for me to refresh myself on what I write)!
3) Answering asks (of course). Things are a little slow going and my muse has been getting finicky with me, but I will make sure I get to everyone's asks! Some I may answer because they're quick and easy, others...I may end up getting an idea for something more expansive, so that'll take a bit longer. 😅
And finally, 4) Introducing a(nother) AU:
Twisted Wonderland!Mermaid AU!!!
Honestly, this started because I got inspired by the artwork by this artist here where they drew the characters based on Floyd's nicknames for them, and it started as a Marine Biologist AU where Yuu is a marine biologist and taking care of the mermaid bois (all 22 boys + one fire-breathing cat) buuuuuut...at the moment, Yuu getting shipwrecked and living on the island with the mermaid boys wouldn't leave me alone. 😂
As well as an idea where Yuu is a full-blooded Kaiju/born a Kaiju and has Land Before Time like adventures because I got emotional at baby Littlefoot hatching, but who's counting the ideas? Certainly not me!
Anyway, I wanted to share a snippet of the prologue I have written that's currently under construction, so the final product may differ. I'm honestly really excited about this AU too, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do~ ;;v;;
Snippet under a read-more because this post is going to be long anyway 😂 Enjoy!
Oh, and if I need to tag it a certain way for future posts, please let me know and I'll be sure to add them!
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If anyone were to ask Yuu what they were going to be doing over the summer, they likely would have told them: catch up on their reading, or playing video games, or any number of different things they had planned. Even just relaxing at home or on the beach would have been an enticing offer.
A scuba diving trip was not something they expected to get dragged into.
“First time diving?”
“Was it that obvious?” Yuu asked, one hand gripping the bar on the seat next to them until their knuckles were white while the other kept hold of the oxygen tank sitting in front of their flippered feet.
“Yeah…kinda obvious for a first timer,” the instructor said with a chuckle, the man giving them a reassuring pat. “It can be a bit nerve-wracking for new divers, but you’ll be fine. You’re one of the contest winners, right?”
“I put my name in as a joke, I didn’t think I’d actually win!” Peering over the edge of the railings, Yuu couldn’t make out anything in the dark water. “I…thought we were going to dive near the shallows closer to land. What are we doing so far out?” they asked, swearing they saw a big shadow pass by…only to realize it was the ship’s frame reflecting on the water.
“I know we’re a lot further out than we normally would for first time divers, but we had problems with our normal ship and the only one that was available was this ship a couple of marine biologists were using.”
“…why didn’t you just cancel and set it for another day?”
“Try telling that to my bosses,” the man muttered under his breath before the smile was back on his face. “Anyway, I think this will be a fun change to the program! These biologists are actually working to explore the reactions of marine life to musical instruments, and we’ll get to see it firsthand ourselves!”
Before Yuu could respond, the ship came to a stop and the driver said, “We’re here! You folks ready to go diving while we get set up? There’s a coral reef not far below us, so you’ll have plenty of time to sightsee.”
“Yup! Okay, so let’s go over the basics again, and I’ll make sure your gear is on properly.”
Yuu listened nervously as the instructor walked through each procedure and rule of diving, the wetsuit sticking tightly to their body as the tank weighed heavily on their back. This was not how they imagined their first time scuba diving would be—they could barely even make out the shore from a wave in the distance. Finally—with mask secured and breathing apparatus in—the instructor gave them a reassuring nod…before falling backwards into the water with a  ‘sploosh!’. For a brief moment they froze, but the motion of the ship and the weight on their back knocked them off balance and forced them backwards.
Fwoosh!!
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gurggggleburgle · 9 months
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As a writer/artist I sympathize and feel for Shang Qinghua so fucking much because I too understand the absolute horror of not knowing how you'll make bills and trying to pander to the algorithm and whims of the internet. Especially because I've done my hw on how online noveling pays shit for all but usually the top percentage and the man's 10k a day updates were probably not because he was so passionate about the project he couldn't stop writing but because of requirements and site mandates to be paid or keep relevant in the algorithm. Like Shang Qinghua clearly hated writing wife plots over story substance but they paid the bills. I don't doubt the holy mausoleum arc among other things was super long because wanted and needed it to be but was trying to milk for what it was worth. The longer he drew out the story the more likely he was to get licensing deals for adaptations because things tend to not get adapted once they're finished unless they reach a classic status. He had bigger plans for his book. He had themes and a moral. He had more in mind but he knew his audience were finicky incels that would move on if he stopped giving them what they paid him for. Man probably intended to use the fact he had an audience now to actually write something good and fulfilling only to die horribly. We never hear about graphic novel or animated adaptations, because if the existed SQQ would never shut up about them, so we gotta assume that as popular as PIDW made money but probably just a modest sum which had to hurt even more.
Man knew his book was shit. Knows it's shit. Understands that what he cut was stuff that would have made him happy but his readers who were there just for porn wouldn't give two flying dicks about and therefore was like fine. I no longer have all this work I spent forever on and only so many hours in the day. If it means I can keep the lights on and eat 2 meals a day instead of one and half a bag of sunflower seeds instead so be it.
Like man went, "yeah fuck my dignity as an artist. dignity doesn't pay my bills."
And i respect and feel that. Rock bottom is a soy sauce packet and a piece of bread you stole from the trash in the bakery department of a mid-tier grocery chain being your lunch and dinner for the day as you pray the suspiciously wealthy furries will finally give you money rather than just liking your work and asking for requests.
Rock bottom is writing porn you don't even like because for some reason a lot of your fanbase has a thing for feet and various other fetishes and you desperately need an extra $20 because of sudden expenses that overblew your budget.
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ystrike1 · 2 years
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Keloid - By Dodal (9/10)
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Listen to me. Come closer. Closer. Let me tell you a secret. I love bitches. I love it when a yandere gets attached to someone that isn't a saint. It makes the plot more spicy and dramatic by default. 18+ warning.
Yoo Yeri is rich. She's also a gorgeous bombshell. She refuses to even look at inferior men, and she has an irrational hatered for ugly people. Most of her terrible personality is a product of her upbringing, and her accident. She's obsessed with being perfect because her body got crushed like a pop can when she was a teenager. She almost died. Thankfully, a rich scientist agreed to experiment on Yeri to save her. He did it because her family is rich too of course. The accident left Yeri brain dead, so her actual brain is a microchip. A few of her fingers are fake and her leg is too.
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She wants to live a flawless life, so she decides to marry a cosmetic surgeon with lots of money. I'm going to be honest. Hanjoo is a simp. He agrees to marry Yeri as soon as he meets her. He's a great guy. He's fit. He's young and he's a doctor, but Yeri is his first love. He has never met anyone like her. She excites him. They're actually a pretty great couple. Hanjoo is utterly smitten and Yeri is finicky, but they are in mutual love.
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Yeri has some issues though. She definitely should have gone to therapy after her accident, but nobody can see how fragile she is on the inside. She doesn't let Hanjoo have sex with her unless he disinfects his fingers and skin. She's afraid of her own sexuality, because most of the men she meets treat her like an object. She wants to be treated roughly, but she's afraid of being taken advantage of. She married Hanjoo because he was the best candidate, and her hunch was right. He's very respectful towards her. He follows all of her weird sex commands, and he doesn't pester her about her preferences too much.
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Then we find out that most of the people in Hanjoo's life don't approve of Yeri. His housekeeper tells him she's cheating on him, but she isn't. Yeri makes fancy candles with silicone molds. She's a pretty talented designer. She is also secretly very horny. After she has sex with Hanjoo she goes to her candle room and uses a silicone mold shaped like his dick. She's literally the opposite of a cheater. She only ever wants to sleep with Hanjoo for the rest of her life, because she thinks other men are unclean. Their obsession is mutual, but Hanjoo's rude subordinates constantly talk shit about Yeri. The housekeeper keeps doing it too. Then they have the audacity to be surprised when she fights back and tries to get them fired.
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Then Yeri meets a sex robot that looks just like Hanjoo. Hanjoo has so many shitty friends it's unreal. His shittiest friend used his face to create a sex robot. It's an ultra loyal machine that devotes itself to the first person it sees, but it's buggy. It's possessive. Robots aren't people, and programming cannot replicate feelings well. The reaserch team hasn't figured out how to stabilize the model yet, so it's stuck in yandere mode.
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When Yeri meets it she is tempted. Her deepest sexual fantasy is a threesome, but she can't touch a man that isn't her trustworthy Hanjoo. Hanjoo wants to satisfy his wife. He's afraid that she'll leave him if she gets bored. Remember, Yeri is crazy rich. She's not a gold digger. Hanjoo does give her lots of presents, but she doesn't need him for that. He wants her to be completely satisfied, so they bring the robot home.
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The robot is named Loid. He is very, very good at sex. Yeri wants to be happy with both of them forever. She treats Loid like an accessory because um...he is? She even tells her husband that sex isn't everything, even though she loves it. The robot tries to manipulate her into loving it, but Hanjoo is unbeatable. He already has Yeri's fickle heart. The robot tries to kill her enemies. It tries to copy Hanjoo, but she always chooses Hanjoo. She doesn't want to let the robot go though, because her strong need for sex worries her. She doesn't want to feel bitter towards Hanjoo because he can't always satisfy her. She wants to use Loid to keep her marriage healthy, but it doesn't work because he's corrupted.
Loid wants her to love him.
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Loid kills Yeri. He does it when both of the humans are tired after sex. He takes the microchip that is technically her brain, and then he traps her unconscious mind in a computer program. She forgets about Hanjoo and lives with Loid on a fake sandy beach for all eternity.
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Hanjoo refuses to accept her death. He gets a robot Yeri. A Yeri that doesn't need other men. A Yeri that doesn't remember Loid. He knows the robot isn't her, but he loves her anyway. They are both yanderes but Hanjoo was always the best choice. Yeri was a great judge of character, but she was also very flawed. She was horny, insecure, bored, and vapid. All of her flaws caught up to her and her greed for marathon sex got her killed. It wasn't fair. Yeri wasn't evil. Everybody just liked to call her evil because she was rich and pretty.
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Loid is a great villain and an excellent yandere. He was programmed to love, and the author clearly outlines why that isn't real love. Loid's love for Yeri doesn't get glorified at any point. Yeri was attracted to him, but that was because he had Hanjoo's face. If he was a regular bot she wouldn't have glanced at him. I wasn't shocked when he won because he is smart, but I did feel sad. Yeri died pretty damn unceremoniously. Loid smashed a flowerpot into her skull. It was gut wrenching. Loid is the kind of yandere that will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Hanjoo is a sweet, fluffy yandere. They contrast each other very well throughout the story.
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charkyzombicorn · 10 months
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jinmbei and brook being an old couple that met when escaping the draft for the Vietnam*
what think?
*i technically sent this to ask to other blogs so if you see it know that i was not plagiarizing
I love this SO MUCH?????!??!?
I'm gonna go finicky with ages because Brook is very nearly 100 and 100 y/o's don't simply Do Things, also I might be historically innaccurate because I am Canadian and don't know much American history
Brook was born (0) near the beginning of prohibition (2) , was raised working as a pianist in an underground drag bar until the depression and end of prohibition (15). After that, he had to work in construction so he could survive and even think of sending money back to the bar for support (he was difficult tho, he refused to cut his hair and he was rail thin). Once the depression was over (26) he finally got to start his career as a musician, and became famous in the tristate area.
Jimbe was born (0) just before the depression, and his mother and father both got killed in a hate crime shortly after. He was raised in a cruddy underfunded orphanage that "coincidentally" never housed white kids, and made friends with pretty much everyone there (except Arlong he sucked) and Jimbe was too young to lie and get a job until 1940 when the depression was nearly over (14). He finished school and got a job doing manual labor because he never lived in a world where he could think about what he wanted to be, and met Brook playing at a bar when he was 35 and Brook was 43.
They became friends pretty fast, Jimbe liking the whole 'following your dreams even though it wasn't convenient' and Brook likes the whole 'family man' aspect. The problem is Jimbe was raised with a certain fear of society and Brook was raised by drag queens, so Brook spends 8 years hitting on Jimbe and Jimbe spends 8 years thinking Brook is fun and amazing and excentric and talented and beautiful and 'in another life' and--
Then the draft comes when they're 43 and 51, and Jimbe gets called right away, so they both freak out and Brook proposes they move to Canada to avoid it - sadly they are in Miami and 21 straight hours drive from Canada, so this turns into a very long roadtrip where they keep finding hitchhikers also dodging the draft (the strawhats)
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tieronecrush · 8 months
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I don’t think any of us were prepared for Dad!Javi. If we were, we certainly weren’t ready to find out he’s going to become a father again! If you’re willing, I’d love to hear about the pregnancy and/or the newborn phase for these 2nd time parents nearly 25 years after their first.
AGH finally getting around to this after the busy week! i live and die for dad!javi so i have of course imagined this in great detail lol so hears some headcanons below the cut:
you both decide to wait to find out the gender until they're born, but javi only knows what being a girl dad is like so he is hoping the whole time that it's another daughter
when it turns out to be another little girl he is over the moon and is so excited that his second girl has such an amazing big sister to look up to, even with the age difference "you, little one, have the coolest big sister. she's a lot older than you but she is so excited to have you as a sibling and i can't wait for you to grow up and be cooler and smarter and everything more than me, just like she is...and just like your mama is."
even though this is the second child and not y'all's first rodeo, javi is still an overprotective and doting bundle of energy. not nervous per say, but he wants everything to go perfect and for baby and mom to be healthy and it's twenty years later so he's had some lapse in memory about what all you have to do in preparation
which is why he comes home one day with a stack of five baby books, and some children's books for the baby. when you questioned him, all he said was that he "wants to be ready for anything". ever the strategist. also, he definitely baby proofs the house way too early and you get so annoyed with the finicky locks on everything that you make him de-baby proof and wait until your birth window
the man also cannot keep his hands off of you. this isn't new, but especially being away from you for so long and now he gets to see you carry his baby again? forget any personal space you had.
nothing gets him going more than seeing you with your bump growing and he marvels at the fact that you're growing a literal human inside of you. he's been witness to the miracle before, but now having the experience of watching a mix of the two of you grow and become a fully formed human that he loves and thinks is pretty damn cool, he cannot wait for another to be in the world. buuuuut also the fact that he can't keep his hands off of you also means that your sex life hasn't faltered at all. morning, noon, night, javi is willing to please if you're ever in the mood. not to say he has like a pregnancy kink but seeing you carrying his baby? feral man. would definitely be rasping out something along the lines of "wanna keep you full of me all the time, esposa. i'd give you as many babies as you want; think i'm pretty good at it, we weren't even trying both times and i nailed it." (he's smug about his "little swimmers" knocking you up on *happy* accident both times)
birth goes smoothly, he's right there with you the whole time (he got lightheaded first go round and had to sit down, but this time he knew at least a little more of what to expect)
it was bittersweet for you to have another birth that your family wasn't around for; they disapproved of you deciding to keep lili and be with javi all those years ago, following him to laredo when he got his sheriff job and not getting married when you got pregnant. since then, there has been little to no contact.
but when chucho walks in the room to see his new grandchild, both you lose it. seeing the man who has become like another father figure to you holding his granddaughter that he already loves so much and so unconditionally, you couldn't help but be emotional. javi sits at the edge of the bed with you, sharing a knowing smile and wiping your tears. "they don't know what they're missin', mi amor. you have made two beautiful girls and are having a happy life. they can go fuck themselves." "javi, you're going to make our second child also have a swear as their first word if you keep talking like that...but yeah, they can."
the newborn months are a little rough to start; adjusting to a new schedule, taking your maternity leave and being around the house all day.
you decided to hold off javi's paternity leave - he'd gotten a job consulting for the local police department - until your maternity leave was up, but once the two of you found a routine, it was smooth sailing. you managed days, and javi relieved some of the pressure when he arrived home from work, taking care of the feedings and changes and bedtime routine most nights. it's exhausting for both of you, but the little moments make it worth it. catching photos of javi asleep on the couch with baby asleep on his chest, hands locked into place to secure her safely. the giggles that fill the house and constantly pull smiles from her dad, one of the more stoic men you've known, but always a complete softie for his girls. dancing around the kitchen to the radio with the babe in one of those carriers strapped to his chest. just wholesome fam moments.
i will stop there cause i could go on and on but if anyone has any thoughts about dad javi pls share
also, read my dad!javi fic here if you haven't gotten a chance!
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atherixaftermidnight · 10 months
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Ever since reveal of the twins I'm here thinking how flux would go for them when they get older?
Also haven't talked about cub in a while I miss the emo elf man. What kind of bonus dad he would be like :))
Oh man Flux.... Scar would never leave their sides, even if it's not anywhere near as bad for them as it was for him (being a god and a Vampire they have no hard limits like he does, even with being partly Human. Ofc that doesn't mean they're inherently safe bc magic is finicky and children's unstable cores can't handle huuuge changes so suddenly...). He'd stay with them and tell them stories just like his dad did, and he'd do his best to keep their magic from spiking too too much or falling too too low.
Mumbo would be much more worried- just because the children have no Human limits on their cores doesn't mean they're safe. A sudden spike above what they can handle CAN overload them, and Mumbo is TERRIFIED of losing them. He's right there with Scar. Those kids might be sick but they're gonna be hella spoiled while being sick.
Grian, being Grian, is not worried at all because if anything looks like it's gonna go wrong he's gonna intervene so damn fast. His kids are not going anywhere anytime soon. Seeing them suffer is hard but he's confident between him and Scar and Mumbo everything will be fine.
and they will be! Their cores settle after about a week, give or take a day, but soon enough they'll be up and at 'em, running around and laughing and playing like children should be. The boys are so happy and promptly take a giant nap because they have not slept/barely slept at all kgfdjk
Cub! Bonus dad! He mostly lives in the Fae realm (though for Reasons™ he does see Scar (and also Mumbo and Grian for reasons I cannot explain) every day lmao) bc that's where he's most comfortable but he is definitely the Fun Dad. He's the Fun Dad who brings them weird and funny gifts when he sees them, tells them funny stories, happy to have little sleepovers with them/babysit (namely if mumscarian ever bring Cub into their poly, before that Cub is their go-to babysitter when mumscarian need some time alone lmao) and just in general they're always super excited to see him and maybe possibly before mumconvexian ever happens they're just like "hi you're our dad now too" hfdshjkj
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quinloki · 1 year
Text
Family Ties
Fem Reader x Donquixote Doflamingo
CW: Language, violence, blood, moral ambiguity, murder, sexual themes and situations 18+ only
Chapter 1 - Table of Consent -
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Chapter 2: Gob-smacked
You go out to the front, flicking on some lights for a moment and shuffling things around on the front desk to look like you're the poor schmuck that got stuck on the late shift. You lock up the front same as you opened the back door and are extra grateful you can make this look like a finicky key and not just a set of lockpicks.
There's no one immediately around, but you can hear voices grousing further down the street. Not far enough away for your liking, but not close enough to delay you leaving. Turning down the back alley, you collect Trouble from the operating room, and lock up before heading deeper into the alleyways.
Trouble's a little unstable on his feet, you imagine because he's woozy from blood loss at this point, but the man's a damn tank with how well he's holding on. You've only seen Pops fair this well after such a beating – and there's no adrenaline rush left to keep pushing him forward anymore.
Plenty of adrenaline for you though. You don't want to get shot helping this guy, but you can't just drop things here and leave. You're invested. Half of it is Law's fault; he gets unreasonably angry when he fixes someone up only to have them end up back in the clinic because they didn't take it easy.
Your new friend stumbles pretty hard, and his size nearly takes you with him. You were so focused on listening for pursuers that it catches you off guard. Despite yourself, you yelp, then swear, and then you drag-run with Trouble and tuck yourselves deeper into the alley, just in time to have lights flood down through it and angry voices echo down the bricks.
Closing your eyes, you lean your head back and internally curse yourself into the abyss.
"It was a clinic bitch." One guy hisses. "I told you it was weird, someone coming out of there this late."
Ah well, crap.
"Shut yer gob." Another voice hisses back. These fools think they're being quiet just because they're not speaking normally. "If we don't find Doflamingo and finish this, we're not gonna be able to get far enough away."
Your blood freezes. Doflamingo. As in Don-fucking-quixote Doflamingo? You look over at Trouble. He's pressed against the wall, and you could see one of his eyes past his glasses from your shared position pressed against the bricks. It's a sharp gaze, and you understand why he wore shades all the time – you think people's under garments would just hurl themselves at him if he showed everyone that gaze.
Flying bras and panties, chaos in the streets. You smile despite the situation and the lead weight growing in the pit of your stomach.
Your brain races at the bits of information you know about him. Ex-model, big shot CEO, 30-some year old Donquixote Doflamingo had launched himself into celebrity status in his twenties and you're pretty sure he was still rising. Pops had said something about the business being legit, but in his words 'those shades are hiding more than his eyes'.
Apparently, you're going to have to start paying attention to the magazines like Nami does, because you did not recognize this bastard on your own. At least not by his appearance, but you certainly knew the man's name.
Holding your breath as the pursuers pass you, watching the lights of their flashlights sliding over the trash and detritus of the back alley, waiting for them to either notice you or not. A minute, two minutes, the sounds were far away and you didn't hear anything else. You point down the smaller alley you were hiding in, and urge Trouble to head that way. The gap was almost too small for his shoulders to fit in, and while you didn't like having him step out first, options were limited.
When he steps out first, you hear a click and freeze as a gun barrel is leveled at him. You can't see the shooter, and the shooter can't see you. Trouble was breathing heavy, trying not to lean against the building so as to maintain his intimidating glare. A glare that was surprisingly effective from behind those shades.
"You got the devil's own luck." The gunman snickers. "But, it had to run out at some point."
You tense your muscles and make your choice. If the gun went off then all your efforts up to now were wasted, and you highly doubt you were going to be left alone anyway. You couldn't shuffle back into the alley - you'd make too much noise. It was either take this guy out without the gun going off, or just resign yourself to an aggravatingly short life.
If you tackle him directly, the shock could cause him to pull the trigger and that would be the end of it all. Your best best was to surprise him mentally, and do something completely unexpected.
You just hope Trouble can survive your decision.
You body check Doflamingo, throwing the other guy off his guard. The look of shock on his face almost makes you laugh, but this is what you wanted. Planting your feet you drove your fist into his gut as hard and as hooked as you could, and thanked your luck he wasn't wearing a bullet proof vest.
Driving the air out of him, he vomits and drops the gun. Grabbing the barrel, you slam the butt of it into the back of his head and drive him into the ground. Keeping an eye, and the gun, levelled at him you took a step back toward Trouble. You were breathing hard, but it was mostly adrenaline pumping through you, not exhaustion.
Okay, maybe some of it was exhaustion. How long had you been awake at this point?
"Trouble?" You question, not taking your eyes off the guy you think you just gave a wicked concussion, and hoping you weren't the straw that broke your patient's literal back.
"I'm up."
"Good." Emptying the bullets from the revolver into your hand you chuck them down the alley before turning to him and wiping the gun with your shirt as you both move down the street. You had curiosity questions, but now wasn't the time. After getting a few blocks closer to Q's you drop the empty gun into the sewers.
A moment after that your adrenaline starts crashing. You nearly burp, feeling nerves roil your stomach, mutter a quiet 'wait', and turn back into the alley you'd just exited to empty what little was left of your dinner into the trash. Trouble doesn't say anything, but you do.
"I've been up and working since 4am," You grouse, feeling as though you'd earned being able to complain a bit. "Then this. It's been a day, Trouble."
Getting up on shaky legs you have him leaning against you again, but when you got to the corner your heart sinks.
Three black SUVs surround you both. One from the left, two from the right. You hadn't even heard the sound of cars and were too exhausted to run by yourself, let alone yank him along with you. You swear, but stay standing.
"It's alright." His voice slips down to you and comforts you. "These are my people."
Most of the people who spilled out of the SUVs were loud. Loud in every imaginable way. Loud in their movements, in their speech, in their dress. It was an assault after working so hard to be quiet all this time. It wasn't too dissimilar from Pops' boys though, and felt like a proper rowdy family. A very relieved, and very happy rowdy family at that.
Everybody shouts his name, and so you guess at this point there wasn't any way you could deny it. Whether you wanted to have helped save someone as notorious as Donquixote Doflamingo was a moot point, the deed was done.
There were bits and pieces about traitors getting away, and a lot of his people looked almost as bad as he did. You took in a few faces and scanned to see who was paying attention to what, but it wasn't your circus anymore.
At the peak of the chaos, you slip away. You are practically a mouse among giants as it was, there were so many big people in that group, and one of the things you were best at was being quiet. You could hear the low rumble of his voice, but you couldn't make out the words. The tone and volume of the people who had rushed to him changed as well.
Melting into the alley ways you'd grown up in, you felt a small pang as you realized they were looking for you, but you had done your part. It was 25 hours after you'd first woke up for the day that you got into your own home and slept.
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