Text
I have a friend who's still highly cautious around covid because she's high risk but she keeps posting all these screenshots of tweets about covid studies on her instagram in an attempt to convince people that covid is still very dangerous
and it's not that covid isn't still potentially dangerous, but one quick google search has allowed me to find every study that she has referenced, and without fail, every single one of them has been working with pre-vaccine, pre-omicron data. the most recent one she's posting about is about cardiac conditions post covid, and wouldn't you know, the entire sample was taken from people who caught covid between march 2020 and january 2021.
this was pre-vaccine, pre-omicron, hell, it was pre-delta variant (remember that one). this was the wild type covid, which our bodies were least immune to. it was the type that was most known to be causing cardiac symptoms and blood clots. besides delta, it was the most deadly. and no one was vaccinated.
so yes, in that group of people, who were unfortunate enough to catch covid during that period, the results of this study are likely very valid- they are at increased risk of heart disease. and that should be talked about and studied more and if those people end up with cardiac symptoms they need to be receiving proper care.
but we should not be assuming, without further study, that these risks are still the same for those who've been vaccinated, or who only caught covid after the omicron variant became dominant (the omicron lineages have been pretty different from the wild type and other pre-omicron variants, so it's worth noting that). like this is a study that must be replicated with a post-vaccine, post-omicron sample before you will even remotely convince me that those cardiac risks are the same as they were before.
and it is driving me crazy that my friend, who is also fucking trained in how to read science, is posting this shit seemingly without looking at the actual papers or thinking about the context at all. like it is driving me absolutely bananas. these posts aren't even like, direct quotes from the papers, they're screenshots of randos on twitter talking about these papers, as if twitter rando knows jack shit about what they're talking about. like it's all well and good to still care about covid but could you at least do it with less of the fear mongering?
#that's what bothers me I think#these posts always have a flavor of 'you should still be just as afraid of this virus as you were in march 2020'#and that's just...not true#that is patently not true#even if you're high risk the situation has changed a bit it's not as dire as it was though you should still be more concerned obvs#like I'm still all for wearing masks in public spaces#especially crowded ones#but the fear mongering has to stop we cannot talk about this like it's 2020 anymore#and the solutions cannot be the 2020 solutions anymore either#like I agree the government just dropped covid like a hot potato and way too quickly but just...why can't we just say that?#I have enough health anxiety I don't need these kinds of studies thrown in my face when they're all backlogged#...that's probably my real issue is that I read this shit and then get sent all into a tizzy because I had covid last summer#only to go and fact check shit and find out that the data isn't even useful or applicable to someone like me#who caught covid after three vaccines and during the BA.5 omicron wave#arguably one of the mildest of the variants#so it's just like#can you not#and there's no fucking filters on instagram
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#very sad i can't see my therapist today bc i might have been exposed to covid 😭#been having a depression flare up for the past two weeks or so#and therapy feels like my only place of peace and sanity given the dysfunction of my fam#been handling the flare up much better than i would have in the past so that makes me feel better#just been super sleepy and a bit sad & stressed is all#and not having that time when u need it sucks 😭#not trying to risk anyone's health tho#esp since my therapist is old & just had it not too long ago#hate how careless ppl are about covid now tho it's very frustrating#i'm like one of five ppl in my town who still wears a mask in public spaces#😩😩😩
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#vent - do not reblog pls#I've been feeling really lonely since I moved to my new state#I've been here for almost a year and can count on one finger the amount of times I've hung out with someone I don't live with#And I've tried so hard to not get covid down here - no indoor dining; mask everywhere public; no big crowds#Talked to my partner abt it too - hey there's a covid surge happening in January please wear a mask when you go to this event#And he comes back with covid#So now I'm stuck in my room for the faintest chance I won't get sick - wearing an n95 in all common spaces#And I'm mad!! But he already knows that he fucked up so there's no reason to show anger to him but I'm still mad!#And the being mad is coming out as being sad#Like I know that him getting covid is not ACTUALLY about him not respecting me#But at the moment my angry brain is saying if you cared you would have worn a mask like I asked you to#And then your mom wouldn't have covid now#And I wouldn't have to hide in my room#And fear for my health#And because I don't have any friends down here I don't have anyone to talk to about it or to hang out with to get away from it
1 note
·
View note
Text
I don't usually don't like to make broad and sweeping statements like this (let alone publicly) but if it helps to get more people involved then i'm gonna put my two cents in.
Covid cases are rising globally right now (Covid itself has never gone away) and if you wholeheartedly believe yourself to be a leftist, then you should still be masking. Accessibility is community care and one of many important parts of intersectionality. That should be something you are incorporating into your politics.
There are genuine exceptions to wearing a mask. But if you can, please do.
My general advice is to wear an kn95, n95 or better (something that creates a seal) in all public spaces. Listen and support those you know who are high risk and remember that your chances of being disabled by covid become higher the more times you contract it. Please be safe and help to keep others safe.
If you haven't been masking and feel bad about not having been or were misinformed, it is never too late to start again.
#mypost#covid 19#covid#covid isn't over#masking#mask#pandemic#leftist#politics#community care#accessibility#disability#long covid
290 notes
·
View notes
Text
"You Have to Live Your Life:" Responses to Common COVID Minimizing Phrases - Published Aug 6, 2024
If you're still COVIDing, you've likely heard phrases, like "it's mild now," or "you have to live your life," repeated over and over. You might be wondering, "what do I even say here? How do I respond to this?" I've listed some of the most common minimizing phrases and some potential responses to them. Feel free to adapt these and make them your own. I've included a variety of responses with different tones, depending on how much you want to be #saltingthevibes.
I want to recognize you might not always have the time or emotional energy to get into these discussions. Some people unfortunately aren't engaging in good faith, so it's important to be able to discern for yourself when you want to have these conversations. You don't always have to educate people, it can be exhausting! For those times when you want to respond but are at a loss for words in the moment, here are some ideas to get you started.
Starting off with one of my (least) favorites:
"You have to live your life!"
"I am living my life. Wearing a mask doesn't stop me from living my life, it makes it possible for me to do the things I love more safely."
"I'd love to be able to get out and do more things, but unfortunately that's not safe for me because so few people are masking."
"I would be a lot harder to live my life if COVID disabled me."
"Living my life means protecting my health, in the short and long term."
"I've adapted how I live my life based on the research about all of the long term health effects of a COVID infection."
"How long are you going to keep doing this for?"
"I'll probably always wear a mask in public spaces, when you know better you do better!"
"There's no expiration date on keeping myself safe and protecting my health."
"When we've widely implemented clean air standards and there's a sterilizing vaccine for COVID, then I might update my current precautions."
"I really wish I didn't have to do this either! But given what I know about COVID and Long COVID, this is the best choice for me."
"How long are you going to keep doing this for? It seems like you're sick all the time now, it sounds really unpleasant."
"We have to live with COVID."
"I'm glad you agree the government has done a terrible job trying to mitigate the spread!"
"To me, living with COVID means doing what we can to protect ourselves, not just giving up entirely."
"We also have to live with car accidents, that's why I wear my seatbelt to protect myself."
"What if we didn't have to? What if we collectively did more to clean the air and create safer living conditions for all of us?"
"Unfortunately you're right, that's why I'll continue to mask to keep myself and my community safer."
"It's mild now/it's just a cold/flu."
"Many illnesses seem like 'just a cold/flu' when you're first infected, but can still have long term health consequences, like mono or HIV."
"You can develop Long COVID even if your initial symptoms are mild or asymptomatic."
"I'm not as worried about the initial symptoms of the acute infection, I'm more concerned about the significant risk of Long COVID."
"You're lucky your symptoms weren't very severe initially. For me, COVID was a lot worse than a cold."
"I don't want to get sick with a cold either."
"I got it X times and I'm fine!"
"I'm sorry to hear you've had so many infections. COVID can cause silent damage throughout our bodies, it might be a good idea to go in for a check up with your doctor."
"I'm glad you're feeling fine so far, but my experience has been different."
"Your risk of Long COVID increases with each infection, so I'm doing what I can to avoid getting it."
"I hear that in your experience, a COVID infection hasn't been a big deal. Unfortunately not everyone is so lucky and many are dealing with significant Long COVID symptoms."
"You're young and healthy, you'll be fine/ only the vulnerable need to worry."
"I used to think the same thing! It turns out I have some underlying risk factors that mean an infection could be very harmful to me."
"Everyone is at risk of Long COVID, and your risk increases with each infection."
"You cannot know someone's health status by looking at them. A lot of young people are high risk as well."
"I don't appreciate you making assumptions about my health status."
"Did you know more than 75% of Americans have at least one risk factor? More than 40% have two or more, and almost 20% have three or more! Being high risk is more common than you think."
"There are actually a lot of factors that can make someone high risk, like a history of smoking, depression, asthma, ADHD, and more!"
"Kids don't get COVID/it's mild for kids."
"Unfortunately many studies show that rates of Long COVID in kids is similar to the rates in adults."
"COVID is the 8th leading cause of death in children in the US."
"Kids can be high risk for COVID, like if they have asthma, ADHD, autism, diabetes, or other common health issues."
"Kids don't deserve to be repeatedly infected with an illness that we know causes long term damage."
"I'd encourage you to read some of the stories about kids with Long COVID, it's heartbreaking for them and their families."
"Long COVID is rare."
"I'm curious where you learned that, because that doesn't fit into my understanding of Long COVID."
"Studies show rates around 20% of adults infected will go on to develop Long COVID, and many studies show higher rates. Your risk increases with each infection."
"Even if you're right, I'm not willing to risk it."
"Have you noticed an increase in weird symptoms or health issues in your circle? Fatigue, headaches, GI issues, stroke, heart attack, blood clots and a ton of other issues can all be caused by a COVID infection."
"It's more common than you might think, there are over 200+ possible symptoms and it can look different in everyone."
"My doctor doesn't wear a mask."
"Yikes! How unfortunate your doctor isn't up to date on the science and isn't doing more to protect their patients."
"It's too bad how many doctors don't stay up to date with important health information."
"Doctors also used to smoke cigarettes in healthcare facilities and recommend them to patients. Just goes to show you doctors aren't always right."
"The medical field scorned the doctor who recommended they start washing their hands... I'm seeing a lot of parallels here."
"Unfortunately it can take many years for practices like these to become more mainstream."
#covid#mask up#pandemic#covid 19#wear a mask#coronavirus#sars cov 2#still coviding#public health#wear a respirator
152 notes
·
View notes
Text
strangers : climax | dave york
pairing: dave york x fireader word count: 6307 content warning: 18+ blog; established relationship, workaholic Dave, Soft Dave, miscommunication, implied/ alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn't know this), Dave's phone deserves its own warning, mention of food and alcohol consumption, a moment in a dressing room where reader inspects her reflection/self image judgments, smut (oral f receiving, fingering, semi public sex, kissing after oral, public affection, some praise if you squint), angst and sad feels, somewhat jealous Dave in a kind of joking manner, lots of tears, reader is mentioned wearing a dress and jeans- but zero description features, no age given but it's implied she's at least over 30, no y/n, established relationship, this is au- no Carol or kids, if I missed anything let me know notes: it's finally here!!! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out into the world. I was working through lots of writing blocks, kids, travel, and sickness. But it's finally here!!!! This one is a doozy in so many ways but I'm so excited for it!! I'm so grateful for everyone who takes the time to read, share, comment and like each chapter of this series. I'm sad it's almost over!!
series masterlist | previous | next
It’s almost sadistic. Taunting every single fiber of your being as each chord of the melody, so perfectly orchestrated, looms over the hotel bar.
Your body betrays you. So easily giving in to the song's familiarity as each word reverberates through your chest. Flashes of Dave dressed in black, spinning you in front of your closest family and friends drowned out the urge to ask for the song to be skipped.
The liveliness of the crowd pouring into the dimly lit space helps block out the music. Your fingers swirl around the condensation slowly settling around your drink that sits untouched on the mahogany bar top. Your mind sifting through the day's events leading up to this moment, where you’re sitting alone, annoyance raging in your veins, in a dress you're starting to regret buying.
*
Lunch was relaxed and pleasant. The oceanfront views of the small cafe were something straight out of a movie. The weather was warm enough to enjoy the patio dining, a subtle breeze cutting through periodically. The ocean swells breaking masked the bustle of beach goers and passing cars. It was everything you had wanted to experience in this beautiful city.
Dave had been fully present since the intimate moment you both shared back at the hotel. More than he had been the entire trip thus far. Keeping you close to him, his hands never leaving you once stepping out of the room. As if to silently say I’m all here with you and I love you.
You relished in the closeness of him. Internally screaming with increasing avidity at his electrifying advances all afternoon.
Pulling your chair closer to where he sat so his free hand could nestle between your thighs. Too focused on twirling the pasta around your fork between discussing the most current events Dave had read in the morning paper while waiting for you to return from your walk.
Growing and falling Stocks. Government scandals that could trickle down and affect parts of his job. National affairs of all levels that jumped out to him. All things you hadn’t really kept up with until meeting Dave, were now things you looked forward to listening to him talk about and giving your input with your own perspective.
It's when Dave starts discussing something about sports or sports related that throws you off balance. Not necessarily so much in what he’s saying, but in what he’s doing when he’s saying it.
“So if they draft him this year, he’ll be a starting rookie…” Dave says as he shifts forward in his chair to adjust his position, hand slightly shifting where it still rests between your legs, his pinky sliding up the crotch seam of your denim with an ample amount of pressure.
“I’ve got money on him this season…” Your mind is too cloudy to even focus on what he’s saying.
An instant jolt of arousal splinters across your body, you use your napkin to hopefully muffle the moan you nearly choke on. Oh! It’s deliberate, Dave’s expression collected and unphased as he carries on, continuing to drag his digit up and down the thick layer of fabric.
“You okay, Honey?” He smirks, applying a little more weight behind his touch, before directing his attention to the server passing by the table and signaling for the check.
“Mmhmm— y-yeah! I’m fine. Great!” Your voice pitches at an unusual tone, frantically nodding in response as you wring the napkin between your fingers trying to not succumb to the pleasure currently building in your core.
It’s a tragic feeling when his hand abandons the heat of your thighs. His focus now is on inspecting the bill, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and tucking the proper amount of cash into the server’s book.
“That’s good.” He says all blasé as he looks at you with deadpan expression, situating his wallet in place again.
“Oh my god— Dave! You are the worst!” You toss your napkin at him, shaking your head as you laugh at his flirtatious behavior.
*
A proper casualness flows between the two of you following lunch— a familiar domesticity that had become so foreign to you. It now almost seems too far-fetched to think things have been strained in the last few months leading up to today and this seemingly perfect afternoon with Dave.
A stitch of guilt begins to weave through your mind as you take in Dave’s unreserved laughter and the way he looks so, extremely happy. Maybe you were premature in believing that there was anything wrong to begin with.
There’s a liveliness to Dave that has felt so rare to witness as of recently. No signs of stress. No closed off demeanor. No inkling of any distress that threatens to disrupt a marriage you so desperately desire to keep intact.
He’s remarkably your Dave— through and through.
The sun becomes far more dominating as the day passes. It’s fiery intensity has you squinting as you step out of the cute little ice cream shop you dragged Dave into after lunch.
Thankfully you’re more than prepared. A pair of dark sunglasses now perched on the bridge of your nose and the light fabric tank you opted for thanks to Dave’s attentive nature for planning, always checking the weather forecast incessantly as he sips from his morning coffee.
It’s no surprise at the influx of tourists that crowd the sidewalk as you both amble about. Your arm wrapped around Dave, his free hand gently resting at the nape of your neck, both of you working against the heat to keep your ice cream from dripping down the cone.
There’s a silence that hangs around the enjoyment of the summer treat, but it’s not uncomfortable. People watching and window shopping paired with brief moments of sweet banter have seemed to reignite the flame that had slowly begun to dwindle.
“Woah!” A swarm of teenagers rocketing by on skateboards out of nowhere has you stunned, several of them nearly knocking into you.
“What the fuck!” Dave’s quick like reflexes immediately turn on and he’s pulling you into his chest as the last few of the trailing skateboarders roll by. “Get off the sidewalk before you hurt someone, you punks!”
“Yeah yeah! Fuck off old man!” The last of the bunch, a typical backwards hat wearing unphased teen, yells over his shoulder raising his middle finger as he skates off into the distance.
“You okay?” Dave asks, giving you a quick once over.
“I’m fine. They didn’t hit me— just startled me more than anything.” You assure him.
“Still— those little assholes almost sideswiped you. And that little fucker calling me an old man?” Dave grumbles, following your lead to continue walking despite wanting to track down the group and give them a piece of his mind.
“Easy, they’re just having fun. If I remember correctly, you too were once a little asshole. There’s a laundry list of stories your mom has shared with me to back that up too.” He scoffs at your comment, knowing exactly which stories his mom has divulged to you about his wild adolescent years.
Your favorite being when a senior year prank almost resulted in suspension and losing scholarships. Dave and a few of his high school friends had decided to toilet paper and egg the principal’s home one night. The group of teens had thought they pulled it off until they came to school and their pictures were plastered in every classroom— security cameras were not taken into account while planning such a prank. Dave’s parents caught wind of the incident and the missing rolls of TP from their home and forced Dave to turn himself in. Dave confessed as a lone prankster, adamant that he didn’t know who the other students were in the images, resulting in tutoring lower grade classmates the remainder of the semester and a few weekends of community service.
“I’m not an old man.” He murmurs against your temple, pressing his lips to your warm skin. His hand settles into your back pocket directing his attention to his almost finished ice cream.
“Didn’t say you were.” Grinning at his annoyance. “Your mom earlier— How is she? Everything okay?”
“She’s good. Everything’s good. Just checking in. Making sure we’re settling in okay here— you know how she is.” It feels like he’s saying a lot without saying much of anything.
“Yeah— definitely sounds like her. Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve talked to her. We should invite them over for dinner when we get back. Proper catch up— share about our trip with them in person.” You look at him, his head nodding along at the suggestion.
You’ve always had a close relationship with his mother, Carol. Weekly trips to the farmers market and coffee dates became a regular thing after you and Dave married. Family dinners took place once a month, rotating between each other’s houses or restaurants. Carol never wanted to be one of those overbearing mother in laws, always making sure that you and Dave didn’t feel suffocated by her and Dave’s dad’s presence.
“Okay. I’ll umm— I’ll call her when we get back. See what her and dad’s calendar looks like. I’m sure they’ll jump at the chance to get together, since our busy schedules haven’t seemed to line up in the last few months.”
“Perfect.”
There’s a beat of silence that follows making plans with his parents. Like there was more he wanted to say but left it unsaid. You don’t push for more and let any needling thought dissolve.
“How was it?” Dave points to the remaining milky soup that’s settled into the top of your semi soggy cone.
“It was delicious.” You tell him, then lapping at a few random drips racing down your wrist with your tongue, savoring the last of its salty sweetness.
“Let me have a taste of it.” He says, pulling you both out of the main flow of people walking behind you.
“What? You don’t even like this flavor, Mr. Vanilla is the only flavor that truly matters.” You playfully mock his go-to choice of a single scoop of plain vanilla, not even a punch of vanilla bean or a sprinkling of chocolate chunks— he’s a simple man.
“Maybe my taste buds have evolved?” He counters, pulling you flush against him under the shade of a store awning. “Give me a taste.”
Everything around you fades to the background, it’s just the two of you. Dave’s lips molding to yours. His tongue gently skims over your lower lip, silently seeking entrance.
It’s unhurried and thorough. A stark contrast from the chilly sensation that still lingers from the frozen dessert and the heat emanating from the way Dave’s tongue languidly traces over every bit of surface he can reach. Dizzying your senses, your mind fully immersed in the way he still tastes of sweet vanilla as he explores every detail of your mouth. Lapping at the remnants of the melted salted caramel that coats your tongue.
It’s vulnerable and thrilling— feeling so right and fully present together.
Your ice cream cone falls from your hand, crashing hard on the cement walkway, giving you the freedom to wrap your hands around his neck and relax even more into the kiss as Dave guides you through it. His hand squeezes your ass through your denim pocket, securing you against him. His other hand cradles your face as he swallows the small moans you produce when he nips tenderly at your bottom lip.
“Dave—“ Is the only coherent word you can think of when he finally breaks the kiss. Your fingers tighten around his short hair as you float back to the ground.
“I like the way it tastes on you. Might be my new favorite flavor.” He smiles, releasing small puffs of his breath over your lips.
*
It was the first shop that caught your attention, the front display had you stopping in your tracks. Your initial interest to merely window shop, a signal to Dave that you were interested in the possibility of checking out more of their inventory.
“Sweetheart? You doing okay in there?” Dave asks cautiously, as if to not scare off any potential decisions you might be deliberating over from behind the velvet curtain of the dressing room.
It’s nothing new, a song and dance you’ve been through before— turning and inspecting from head to toe. Your mind in an epic battle with the reflection framed in front of you, dreading anytime you step foot in anything that resembles a fitting room.
Except this time you’re not tearing apart every little thing about what you’re seeing, finding all the negative reasons as to why this particular dress isn’t working.
It’s the complete opposite, because you love the dress and you can see yourself wearing it on many occasions without a doubt.
An ambered hue that reminds you of autumn when the leaves turn, and Dave spending hours in the yard gathering pile after pile while you bake a seasonal pie, watching him from the kitchen window.
The tiered tulle fabric plucks a peculiar scene from your memory. Its flowy and dramatic silhouette is reminiscent of the dress you had worn to last year’s CIA Gala. Dave kept you close for the entirety of the evening. Your arm wrapped around his as he talked with colleagues, some new whose names you wouldn’t remember and others who had slowly worked their way into a more permanent place in your lives with regular dinner parties and monumental celebrations. Dave’s hand planted on the small of your back, his thumb drawing soft shapes where your dress strategically exposed your back, you were his grounding force among a sea of highly regarded men and their significant others.
“Hey- is everything okay?” Dave’s head now visible as he pulls the curtain back just enough to check in with you, his hushed tone barely audible over the upbeat music that the trendy boutique has playing through the store.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You say flatly as you continue to inspect your reflection, the hang tag with the bold asking price of the dress held between your restless fingers.
“Wow— Sweetheart, you look… Wow!” Speechless. Dave stands stunned behind you, taking in every bit of you, completely captivated.
“Yeah? It feels like a lot. I have a dress back at the room I can wear instead…” You say, watching the arduous battle he’s sorting through in his mind, his smitten smirk doing wonders to help settle your dress turmoil.
“No— No this, this is perfect. I love it so much. You definitely should get this one.” Dave says persuasively, a beat of sensualism exuding from where he now stands with his chest flush to your back, his hands attempting to bypass the layers of fabric in search of somewhere to efficiently affix himself to you. “Reminds me of that dress you wore to the Gala last year. You looked stunning. So much so I couldn’t keep my hands off of you the entire night. Pulled you into that closet and fucked you while the awards ceremony carried on.”
“Hmm, I remember.” You smile, your stomach flipping at the way he so vividly remembers that evening too. “But the price is a little much though. Like too much.” Dropping the price tag, allowing it to hang freely from the dress instead of mocking your sticker shop distress.
“Don’t worry about the price— it’s fine.” You gasp when he connects with your skin, a shiver zipping up your spine, his lips fervent and assertive as they work up the expanse of your neck.
Dave’s hand catches your head as it tips to the side, allowing him more ample space to roam. Your skin in his teeth triggers a soft whimper in your throat, your eyes fluttering closed as you get lost in the sensation of him.
It’s a blur of calculated movements on his part, your body receptive to his smooth control, moving along with ease until your back settles against the wall of the dressing room. The carpeted floor envelops the sound of him falling to his knees. Dave’s eyes glazed over as he stares up at you, their usual golden hue dappled with gleaming eagerness. His hands fumble with the hem of the dress skirt briefly, delighted when he finally manages to breach the abundant layers of fabric. The brush of his fingers on your skin as his hands skim up your legs is all the forewarning you’re given before he’s pulling down and removing the lace panties that you’ve been soaking through all afternoon because of him.
“Dave— what are you doing?” A breathless question, one you don’t really need a response to as he looks up to you one more time, his pointer finger resting on his mouth then lifting your leg over one of his shoulders.
He takes in the sight of your glistening wetness, his mouth watering at how you’re dripping for him. The urge to taste you is strong and he gives into it fully.
From above all you can see is bunched fabric and brown tousled locks when he connects to you, his angular nose pressed into the patch of hair that covers your mound, that first tentative kiss to your sex delicate and heady. The soft pressure of his flat tongue has your eyes rolling back when he starts to lick up and down, savoring the deliciously sweet taste of your arousal. Desire forging through your body with a deep buzzing intensity.
“Oh fuck! If we get caught— Ah!Shit. Dave— Baby, that feels amazing—” You purr in what you hope is a hushed tone, tilting your pelvis just so, a dire need for a climactic release.
Dave’s tongue moves in slow circles, teasing and flicking at your clit. His ministrations causing a slow tingle to build in your lower abdomen, steadily increasing in strength as he goes.
“Ma’am, how’s everything going in there?” The store attendant asks, completely unaware of the lewdness taking place on the other side of the current.
“Mmhmmm! Great! The dress is p-perfect!!” Your voice shoots up an octave when Dave inserts two fingers into your fluttering pussy in one quick thrust, moving them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your aching clit.
“That’s so great to hear. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to holler.” She says before you hear the clicking of her boots retreating.
You are squirming and quietly moaning, your knees nearly buckling as the fiery pleasure gains momentum, completely lost in the blissful sensation.
“You hear that, Baby. She said don’t hesitate to holler. Doing so good for me— I can never get enough of you!” His fingers hitting that delicious little spot that makes your toes curl, over and over again.
“Dave— don’t stop!” And he doesn’t.
He senses the tension building in your body, your walls seizing up around his deft fingers, intensifying his movements, his tongue lapping at every inch of your folds as your arousal runs down his hand.
“Baby, I'm coming.” You say right before your jaw goes slack, a silent whine only noticeable to you and Dave fills the small space. Your vision dusted in white, a euphoric sensory cloud of light bursting behind your eyes.
Dave catches you when it becomes too much to stand, whimpering at the loss of his fingers seated so firmly inside you.
Your skin is dewy. Glowing under the small dressing room light. The beads of sweat running down the length of your neck, sliding down the slopes of your breast, migrating somewhere below the fabric of the dress.
Dave catches a few salty drops, his tongue trailing over your clavicle makes you aware that he has removed himself from the underside of the skirt.
You taste the brininess and the sweet tang of your arousal when he licks into your mouth. Zero time to catch your breath, his tongue tangling effortlessly with yours.
“Hmmm— I take back what I said earlier. I love the way you taste— only flavor for me!” He says smirking against your tingling lips.
“You are such a menace. But I love you for it.” You pull him in for one last chaste kiss.
“I love you so much, Sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead, then bends to pick up your discarded panties, stuffing them in his front pocket.
“Seems like it would be wrong to not buy the dress after that little move you pulled.” Giggling as you begin the process of undoing the back zipper.
“Knew that would help sway your decision.” He says with an impish grin and wink.
*
Your reservation has come and gone. 30 minutes to be exact. Misery and frustration fill your veins as you stir the tiny straw in the watered-down concoction. The cocktail-soaked cherry, normally your inaugural sprinkling of how well the drink was mixed, now lays overlooked and forgotten at the bottom of the glass.
The bartender, who checks in with you like clockwork every 10 minutes or so to see if you needed a refill albeit your obvious lack of consumption from the original drink he made, has shown zero annoyance over the fact that you have taken up space in not one, but two chairs at his bustling bar. Your small clutch placed in front of the empty seat reserved for your husband who was supposed to meet you here an hour ago.
*
Dave and you had made your way back to the hotel after purchasing the dress, giving yourselves plenty of time to get ready for the evening Dave had planned out.
It was hard to keep your hands off each other. a magnetic effervescence had you contemplating whether to call off the reservation all together despite Dave’s ecstatic adamancy to make it to the reservation on time. Both of you managed to work against the intense pull, only sharing shy glances and brushing of limbs standing side by side in front of the bathroom mirror while getting ready.
Dave didn’t shy away from flattering you as he helped zip you in, causing you to fight against tears that threatened to ruin the dramatic makeup that paired perfectly with your dress.
I love you. You are so beautiful. How did I get so lucky? I can’t wait to get you out of this dress later.
Dave’s hand molds to yours, a corner of his mouth lifted as you eagerly drag him from your hotel room. Taking advantage of the privacy the small offshoot hallway provides from the main corridor of the floor, he draws you back to him and without hesitation he kisses you with a fiery tenderness.
“Alright. We need to go.” He says, breathless and not all that convincing.
“Do we though? We could just swipe the key, make our way back inside, order room service— you can get me out of this dress. See what I may or may not be wearing underneath.” You murmur against his smile, your tongue sensually gliding over the underside of his upper lip causing him to release a heavy sigh, as if he really wants to do exactly just that.
“You drive a hard bargain, Sweetheart. And as enticing as all of that sounds— amuse me and go along with what I have planned. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back here and I can slowly undress you.” He counters, leaving you little room to dispute his well thought out plan for the evening.
“Alright, Mr. York. We'll play by your rules.” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Dinner. Then straight back here—“
A soft buzzing cuts you off. Dave’s body tenses against yours, releasing you from his hold to retrieve his phone from his black slacks.
“I need to take this— it’s work.” His demeanor completely shifting from his usual sweet carefree self to closed off and mysterious.
“Okay. Call them later then. They can leave you a message.” You reach for his hand to continue to make your way down to the restaurant. He pulls away, promptly taking a few steps back, his focus still on the number flashing on his phone screen.
You’re not sure what hurts more. The fact that Dave is putting work first once again or how he so quickly recoiled when you reached for him.
“I can’t. I need to take it.” He says, finally looking at you with pleading eyes, and you hate how much you so willingly give into his need to brush off the plans he was only moments ago so eager to get to.
“Dave— Fine.” Releasing a heavy sigh into the narrow hallway, tightening your grip on the small purse that holds your phone, lip gloss and key card, doing your best to mask the resentment and defeat simmering just below the surface.
“I’ll be quick. Go grab us a seat at the bar and I’ll meet you there when I’m finished.” He doesn’t give you an opportunity to get another word in, turning to let himself back into the room.
The bottom of your dress floats in the air, kicking out with each step you take, making your way to the main hall of the floor in the direction of the elevator. Further from Dave. Closer to being alone yet again. Suppressing your swirling emotions for the time being.
Dave’s hushed voice echoes down the walls. Never actually making back into the room before answering the call. Out in the open. Zero care that his wife is still within earshot.
“Hey, Ashley… Yeah, she just left. I told her to just wait for me at the bar.”
You stop dead in your tracks. The swish of your dress is now still at your feet, hanging in its normal wearing state. Your blood runs cold as your brain rapidly tries to digest what you just heard.
Your heart clings to how easily Dave had been so present and affectionate since this morning. That sinking feeling of your suspicions being revealed. I knew this whole day was too good to be true.
Everything feels like it’s narrowing. The hallway. Your vision. Your airway. Smaller and smaller.
Something compels you to keep moving. Further from Dave. Closer to being alone at the bar, away from this man who you no longer find recognizable at this moment.
*
“Excuse me. Can I get a Scotch, neat, side of water please?” Dave’s whereabouts are no longer unknown to you, leaning an elbow onto the bar as he orders himself a drink, his other hand resting on the back of the chair that has kept you comfortable while you wait.
“Sorry, that took longer than expected.” Dave apologizes, sealing it with a kiss to your cheek.
You hum a lackluster response. Gnawing at your bottom lip as you focus on the dilapidated napkin you’ve been rolling and unraveling, folding and unfolding for the umpteenth time.
“You okay?” Dave asks, his hand moves to rest on your back but now it’s your turn to recoil from his touch, leaning forward before he’s able to make contact.
“Yeah— I’m great.” You say flatly, only briefly looking at him to deliver your annoyed smile, then back to the crinkled napkin that’s now serving as an absorbent to pooling condensation.
“Here you are sir.” The bartender interrupts, placing the single malt and ice water on the bar, Dave nods his thanks.
You don’t have it in you to pry or question his tardiness. So you continue to sit in silence, watching Dave out of your peripheral properly dilute his drink so it’s suitable for sipping.
“You’re not wearing your ring?” He points out to your bare ring finger then takes a light sip of the diluted scotch.
The fingers of your left hand pause, fanning out so you can inspect the observation yourself. The usually adorned finger is stripped, lacking your wedding band and engagement ring.
“Oh— I must have forgotten to put it back on after we went to the pool…” You hadn’t realized how naked it felt all day, the fingers of your right hand soothing over the indent skin, recalling when you had tossed the jewelry haphazardly into your bag yesterday.
“You don’t think these strangers will get the wrong idea?” You sense an attempt at humor in his voice, only he has failed to read the room. His government skills not sensing you have zero interest in Dave’s untimely decision to be a humorist. “A beautiful woman, alone at a bar, without her wedding rings— Don’t want—“
“Excuse me— can you put my drink on his tab? He’ll be taking care of it, along with your generous tip.” You alert the passing bartender. You swivel your barstool just enough to reach around Dave’s solid form to grab your purse, then swivel in the opposite direction to stand. You tuck your purse under your arm, before delivering the irritation that has finally begun to boil over. “I think the only stranger confused about our marriage is you, Dave.”
“Wait— Where are you going?” His hand gently clasped around your upper arm, halting your departure.
You glance down at where his hand holds you, his thumb actively moving in soft circles over your skin, trying his best to distract and diffuse the air between you. Unfortunately, too little too late.
“I’ve been sitting here waiting for you, Dave— for a fucking hour. I’m going back to the room.” You pull your arm from his grip and leave without another word.
Dave somehow manages to catch the same elevator, but you don’t bother acknowledging his presence as he stands on the opposite side of the small metal cabin. The other riding passengers don’t suspect you two even know each other or the emanant rift that is unfolding between you, just two lone hotel guests sharing a lift to their designated floor.
2 stops allow for the other guests to get on to their respective floors, leaving only you and Dave left to continue the ride to the final stop.
The striking silence is met with electric chords spilling from the small speakers in the elevator. The familiar tune feels like an old friend you’ve been reacquainted with after months apart. Those first few lines wrap around you, embracing you fully— I’ve missed you so. The chorus drawing your gaze to where your husband stands slouched against the mirrored wall, looking equally as somber as you feel, his eyes already drawn to you in the same manner.
A smile tugs at your lips, a fleeting moment of remembrance to that night so many years ago. That night where Dave was more than just a stranger in a bar. He was your future. Your home. Dave without a doubt was the best thing to happen to you.
The memory of meeting Dave is interrupted by a soft ding and the doors slowly unveiling your intended destination.
You stalk towards the room with a graceful backbone, a beautiful facade to how you truly feel inside, keeping yourself together with each poised stride. Dave takes his position two steps behind, vigilantly in tune with your body language.
There’s a sense of relief that overcomes you the second the door closes and the lock clicks. No longer needing to keep a composed demeanor to prying eyes. No longer allowing the hurt to fester and torment your heart in a stealthily manner.
They flow furiously once they start. Tears streaming down your face. Silent sobs cracking in your throat.
You move about busily, grabbing and tossing, too lost in your own blurry thoughts to even notice Dave standing there watching you.
“What are you doing?” Dave asks, perplexed by the way you’re flinging item after item into your suitcase that lays open on the bed.
“You’re a smart man, Dave. I’m sure you can figure that out.” Grabbing a drawer’s entire contents and dropping it messily into your bag.
“I get that you’re packing. Why are you packing is my concern.” He takes a timid step closer towards the streamline process of you moving about.
“I’m going home. I’ll catch a ride to the airport. Book a new flight when I get there. I can have Jacey pick me up when I land.” A plan you had thoroughly developed before Dave had arrived at the bar.
“Wait— you’re going home? Why? What’s going on?” He steps directly into your path, hindering your progress.
“I don’t know anymore, Dave. I thought this was what we needed. Some time away together. Away from work. Away from our normal lives. Just us reconnecting. But it seems like this whole thing was just wasted effort.” You try to wipe the tears, but they just continue to fall.
“Baby, you’re not making any sense right now.” He knows he should allow you space, but the urge to pull you into him is stronger.
“It’s been months. Months of you working long hours. Months of missed dinners and late nights at the office. Months of being alone at night wondering if you’re okay and when you’ll be home. Months of worrying that something is happening between us and trying to figure out how to fix it.” Each convulsive gasp for air you struggle for fans across Dave’s neck. His arms tightening around you, every word slicing through his chest.
“Fuck—“ He murmurs, his cheek pressed into the side of your head, your tearful confession not anything he expected to hear tonight.
“If you didn’t want to c-come with me— I would have u-understood.” Your shoulders jostle in Dave’s arms, your own arms hanging at your side, still holding a few loose garments in your fists.
“What? No! Baby, I wanted to come. I want to be here— with you.” Dave pulls back, enough so you can see the sureness in his eyes.
“What about her? Wouldn’t you rather be here with— h-her?” Your voice cracks at the thought of Dave with someone who isn’t you.
“Her? What are you talking about?”
“Ashley— She’s the important phone calls you’ve been taking. The work that can’t wait. She’s why you’ve been so distant with me for months.” It feels like glass the minute it leaves your mouth, shattering across your tongue, nearly choking on the tiny little shards.
“Honey, you think I’m having an affair?” A nod is all your weary state can give. An affair— it’s the only thing that makes sense to you right now.
“I heard you talking to her several times since we got here, Dave. The last time being when you told me you had to take an important call and you would meet me at the bar before our dinner reservation.”
You’re not sure what you expect him to do now that he’s been caught. Confess to his actions. Tell you everything from the beginning. Get on his knees and beg for forgiveness. It was a mistake, it will never happen again.
What you don’t expect is to see a single tear fall down his handsome face. To see a look of rich tenderness in his eyes. Warmth in his touch as he wipes away the wet worriment painted over your face.
“Baby— Fuck, I’m so sorry. To say that this trip so far has been stressful would be an understatement. Nothing I had planned for this trip has gone right— even after months and months of preparation. And you’re right, they weren’t work phone calls— not all of them at least. I’m so sorry for making you feel like I didn’t want to be here— I do. I want to tell you everything, but I think it’s best if I show you first.”
“Show me what?” You ask him.
“Come with me so you can see for yourself. And if you still want to go home afterwards, we’ll leave tonight.” Dave’s head tilts, his eyes searching yours hoping to relieve any reservations you still might be internally feeling.
“I look like a blubbering mess right now.” You use what you now realize are a pair of socks to wipe any streaks of makeup smeared on your face.
“No you don’t. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says, his lips molding over yours are a sobering reflection of his love for you.
Not much else is said on the trek back down to the lobby, allowing Dave to take you to wherever this mysterious place is.
There’s a nervousness about him, his jitters, while subtle, are loud and obvious. Holding his sweaty palm against yours. His other hand actively fidgeting in his pocket. Head tilt back, then forward, stretching his neck from side to side.
You lean into his shoulder, tucking your free hand under his arm, hoping to ground him a bit. It helps, you feel him relax instantly into your touch. His lips pressing to the side of your head, Thank you.
“Dave, where are we going?” You ask as you walk in an unfamiliar area of the hotel.
“Almost there.” He says, his fingers squeezing in small bursts against your hand.
It’s a long hallway covered in an elaborate wallpaper with rich details of floral patterns and bold hues. It's dimly lit due to the fact that there’s zero windows, the only light is given by the mid century style sconce fixtures lining the walls. Potted plants strategically placed around sculptures and empty velvet chairs.
You’re met with two large wooden doors as you approach the end of the hall, but it’s the woman standing in front of them that has your attention. She’s beautiful, actually she’s stunning. Her smile is so warm and inviting, beaming at you as you and Dave walk closer to where she stands. It’s as if she’s been expecting you, waiting diligently for your arrival.
“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. York. My name is Ashley.”
#Dave york#dave york x reader#dave york x you#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#pedro pascal#pedrostories#wildemaven writes
307 notes
·
View notes
Text
Warm Blankets!
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Bimbo!reader
a/n: it's time for me to throw my hat into the ring and finally post for my favorite type of reader! >.< def will show off my oc for this one >:)
synopsis: you and your buff manz(pluz pets!) just kinda lay there and do nothing all day ╰(▔∀▔)╯
tags: fluff, cuddling, simon proposing in a personal space because he doesn't take me as a person who'd propose in public, just overral being cute (´。• ω •���`)
wrds:
it was a lazy sunday. finally simon came back from his missions this week and had a lot of time to be with you. stood at the door, awaiting him. you could hear simon's loud and strong combat boots at the steps, the keys jiggling. you were basically a puppy waiting for her owner to come home. meanwhile the actually puppy wags her tail and yaps.
'shh! riley quiet! he can hear you!' you whispered at the pup, turning her head at you with confusion. 'I can already hear 'yer through the door sweets." simon chuckled through the door. you gasped, picking up riley and scooting behind the couch.
when simon stepped through the door, he saw your little my melody onesies and it's ears. 'baby i can see you.' he laughed, moving over to see you holding riley in your arms as you pout. 'simmy? HIII!!' you squealed. you set riley down as she moved forwards and leaped on his legs. he picked you up and kissed you plush lips.
oh to be home with you. a place of comfort and warmth. 'oh! wait! I have a gift for you!' you jumped off of simon as he furrowed his eyebrow. he took off his mask, scars covering his face as he smiled. riley left his side and followed you upstairs with a yap.
the both of you came back with a blanket of silks and blankets. 'okay! so, i got you a cute..wait for it! kuromi onesie! so we can match. you, me, and riley! she can be pompompurin.'
simon laughed at your adorable mind. so pliant and cute. 'you got this for me?' you nodded as you squealed and handed him the suit. usually, he'll shout at you and cut the poor thing into pieces. but just for you, and only you will he wear something like that.
'this thing? oh god..'
a few minutes later, you see the buffest and burliest kuromi ever seen. you screamed and ran up to simon as he chuckled. god forbid any of his teammates see him like this. 'is this what you wanted?' he asked.
you nodded. 'yes! ah! you look so cute! I got you kuromi because I knew you like black so I got this one for you!' how nice of you! always looking after him. never ending. 'thank you lovie, what are your plans tonight?' your eyes looked up and hummed. 'i dunno! wait! we can watch scary movies! and make like a fort pillow!'
'pillow fort hunny?' you nodded, 'yup! lemme warm up the blankets!' you swiftly left to go to the laundry room, your little slippers tapping and riley following after you as she yapped.
simon shook his head with a crooked smile as he started to pull out some chairs and nearby pillows. he couldn't wait to give you your new gift. a pretty little ring with a nice hot pink rock on top. he can't think of anyone else to come home to but you. his little angel. you were basically made for him. and he wanted to keep you forever.
'okay! i'm back! i have the blankets I want to use for the building process and others are drying okay! so! place the chairs here and-'
he wasn't listening to you. not because you were boring. more like he was just admiring you. he does it everyday. no matter where he's at. on base, duty or even at home. sleeping in the comfort of your arms and warmth, he's always thinking and admiring you.
though your brain is small, your heart was big and ready to share your love with others. you still couldnt do long division and even though keep asking and calling how the ish washer works even though you've been living on your own for years now. sometimes it scares and surprises simon how you lived so long on your own.
'are you even listening babe?' you huffed at him. he stammered and looked up at you. 'y-yeah i am.'
'good! now help me!' you moved one chair to the side and another to the back and give it a little friend as you like to call it. and simon lifted onto the other side of the fort. he drapped over a soft fuzzy white comforter and set the pillows inside, having a beautiful floor decor with a hello kitty blanket. you shoved some stuffies and a chew toy for the pup.
'oh! the blankets are done!' you swoop yourself across the house, again riley still following only lagging behind due to you being a lot faster and bigger than her. simon took out the ring, looking over his shoulder to see if you were still there. no? great. he tucked it under the pillows. he knew your dumb little brain wouldn't figure out where he placed his gift.
'simon! I need help please!' you shouted across the house. simon lifted himself up with a grunt. signally that he was coming to your rescue. when he arrived at the laundry room, he found his sweet girlfriend overwhelmed by huge pink and black blankets. riley was gnawing on one of the blankets and trying all her might to drag it back to the living room.
'I gotcha' ' simon took the weight off of you and carried the warm and fluffy blankets. he started to place some on top of the chairs and fluff them out. you were sti struggling, they were weighted blankets, you came back to see a nicely made fort by your boyfriend.
'ooh! so warm! what are we watching?' you plopped down under the fort, hugging your boyfriend's beefy arm. simon's other hand held the remote, scrolling through the catalog. 'maybe legally blonde eh? you're just like her. smart in your own way, but still a little silly' he said as he slightly tapped your head as you squished up. riley laid in between you and him. her nose was deep into the blanket, barking and growling at it. simon was starting to get worried. his smart little pup might spoil the surprise!
'riley! no! not on my clean sheets! no!' you scolded her as you picked up her small body and moved her to your right side. simon sighed, mentally of course. he was so thankful that you were dumb. if you had any sense, you'd at least ask or try to figure out what's under that pillow. 'well, yeah! i'll watch it.'
simon played the movie, the intro quickly grabbing your attention. you were basically drooling over the early to late 2000's fashion. the pink. the fits,the way they speak. gosh you just wanted to jump into ellie's world and just kiss her and be her best friend. all that going on, simon couldn't take his eyes off. your sweet smell and smile, your rosy and soft cheeks. the way you pointed out everything in that movie.
he remembers when he asked for soap how he should propose to you. he only has 10 minutes before the movie ends. maybe 30? he wasn't paying too much attention to it. soap said, ' I dunno. im single, why the hell are you askin' me?'
not much help, should've asked price before he left. damnnit. he couldn't let this soft moment go by. he needed you to be in his bed with a rock on your finger. nothing else. so maybe now? maybe after the movie? maybe-
'simon. something's poking my side can you see what's under there?' well shit..
might as well get it over with..
'okay. listen to me (reader).' you started to get worried. you knew what simon did as a job. you called it his pew pew job. very accurate if you will. 'simon you're scarin' me..' you whimpered. simon sat up, sneakily pushing the box behind his back. 'nothin' to be scared of.' he assured. 'you know I love you very much right?' you nodded, small tears swelling in your eyes, 'yeah?'
he softly placed the box in your hand. the tears started to flow even more. 'what's this?' you asked, holding the velvet box in your hand. 'I want you to be mine.' he hushed to you, his cheeks getting warm and softer, even with all the scars all over his pale face. 'what do you mean? I am yours!' you squealed.
'I want you to marry me doll..' he mumbled. your eyes opened wide, exposing the tears that have been spilling out. and all of a sudden your eyes are a fountain. you crashed your body into his chest, shaking your head yes as you wailed into his body. ' is that's a yes-'
'YES!'
a/n:it's a series now, gimme gimme GIMME YOUR IDEAS!!!!
#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod x reader#ellie dreams!✎ೃ⁀➷#ellie speaks!!#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x bimbo!reader#bimbo!reader#cute#fluff#soft#fanfic
313 notes
·
View notes
Note
I still mask because it's what I can do to protect myself and others.
I still mask because I don't trust the people at the grocery store and on the train to stay home when they're sick, or to stop themselves from spreading COVID.
I've recently learned that the masks I was using are no longer recommended, and have ordered some N95s! I'm doing my best but it's frustrating that I see people masking less and less. 😷
I have also felt the social pressure to go without masking and have given in sometimes, which I'm not proud of. Even my doctor made comments about it. I would love to know what you do/say in these situations!
Hey thank you for sharing! 😷💛
Firstly, I'm happy to hear you're able to upgrade to better quality masks! I hope they're comfortable and have a snug fit!
You're definitely not alone in experiencing pressure to remove your mask. This can be especially difficult when this happens with relatives and friends.
For me personally, I've gotten in the habit of trying to think 10 steps ahead of what I could do to prevent having to take off my mask. I gave some examples of what I would do in the case of visiting a friend or visiting a restaurant in this post here.
In general, I stand my ground with my boundaries if anyone is trying to pressure me to take off my mask. My boundaries are: I will not be removing my mask around other people that I'm not confident have been masking consistently in public and/or high risk scenarios, and I will not be removing my mask around other people that have not been taking enough adequate precautions & testing, if at all, leading up to the time of our convening.
In the case of being in public spaces surrounded by a bunch of strangers, removing my mask is 1000% off the table because there is no way for me to know how covid-cautious all these people around me have been, and my best bet is not at all if they're all maskless. So in the case of if I'm with relatives and/or friends that are trying to pressure me to remove my mask in public, that is a hard no. And frankly, I treat interactions like that as moments that inform me of how they regularly go about their day-to-day during an on-going pandemic: casually & carelessly removing their masks (if they have one at all) in public, with no risk assessment or precautions at all. I know then to double down on my boundaries, and, if possible, distance myself from them. I recommend joining any "Still Coviding" Facebook groups, Discord servers, etc. for your particular state/city/town if you're looking to spend time with more people on the same page as you about the seriousness of the pandemic.
In regards to doctors; I haven't personally experienced pressure to remove my mask from the doctors I've been seeing, but I have had to ask them to put one on around me, especially if the purpose of the appointment actually requires me to remove my mask. Here's a document that has templates for what you could say to your health care provider if you're requesting them to wear a mask in any upcoming appointments (feel free to save a copy and tailor it to your own liking!). Please remember that it's 1000000% your right to demand for accommodations and safety precautions in a literal health care environment. You're not a burden for doing so, and you're not irrational for asking your health care providers to literally do their job and do what they can to protect your health. There's websites like Covid Safe Providers if you're trying to look for a covid-cautious health care provider; it's not guaranteed there's going to be one for your location (I've been having a hard time finding a covid-cautious GP near me), but it's worth a shot to look into.
Overall, here's some links I recommend to equip yourself with knowledge on what you could say in these interactions if you're put in a position to have to explain your choice to take covid precautions & require others to do the same:
How To Talk To Your Loved Ones About Covid
You Have To Live Your Life: A resource for COVID-19 research and information
LitCovid: A literature hub for tracking up-to-date scientific information about the 2019 novel Coronavirus.
Please absolutely feel free to repost these links wherever and share them around to other people!
I hope this was helpful!
As always, if anyone has any additional information or suggestions to give, please feel free to share!
#thank you for sharing 😷💛#i still mask because#covid isn't over#covid is airborne#covid pandemic#covid awareness#covid#link(s) provided#ask queue#i meant to queue this but i immediately posted!
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
I literally cannot possibly explain how shattered I am because of the absolute lack of giving a shit about covid. it has decimated my closest relationships. people say they support disabled people but when it comes down to the slightest bit of consideration they are fucking gone. it feels more and more every day that we are just supposed to shut the fuck up and die.
being chronically ill when the people closest to you won't take precautions is fucking soul-rending.
my mom, who understands the incredible risks that covid infections cause to all of us (hint listen to science and epidemiologists not politicians or the cdc, they don't give a shit) didn't wear a mask this weekend around my little cousin who is disabled from birth because she didn't want to deal with my aunt and her family who doesn't care.
like...you should still wear a mask? if it's important it's important!!!! care for disabled people is so fucking conditional. my 10 year old cousin couldn't advocate for himself even if he knew exactly how much a risk covid could cause to him (and shouldn't have to because adults should look out for him). I'm so tired of people not giving a shit and I think about the immunocompromised kids who have no agency all the fucking time.
please understand how you are being manipulated by propaganda and give a shit about your fellow humans.
wear a mask to the doctor and pharmacy and grocery store even if you can't at work. please. the fact that masking has been stigmatized has led here in my state of NC. stand with us. wear a mask. we deserve to live and exist in public space.
they are making it illegal to mask at all for anyone here. push back and normalize mask wearing before the whole country is like this. if you don't care about anyone else care about yourself. repeated covid infections have a cumulative effect and absolutely cause long term disability.
#covid is not over#disability#chronic illness#ableism#me/cfs#mask up#chronically ill#covid#anticapitalism#direct action#chronic fatigue syndrome#postviral illness
41 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! Want to double check that I've done a decent job of avoiding disfiguremisia, and try to turn it into great counter to hatred instead of just an okay one.
Preface: I have a form of memory loss and likely brain damage so I cannot always phrase things clearly although I will try my best.
Personally I do not feel happy reading escapist stories as that happy ending is not achievable for real people. We don't get to live in a place that's completely safe and free from judgement. I'd like to write people in a hostile world who find love and safety and community, however this does necessite writing hostility. I want to make sure I'm doing so with care.
I would like to make sure that the hostility written as tension does not tar how I write how one of the main characters. He should be written with dignity and respect even when he is not being treated well by those around him.
One of my characters is blind and develops severe burn scars. He wears a blindfold to help with photophobia and sensory overwhelm, but takes it off when its dim. (CVI plus autism.)
While he does wear a cloth coverings in public due to ugly laws, he views it as a ridiculous requirement and happily removes this mask when with friends. He also enjoys that being visibly strange or somewhat unnerving to most people means that shallow people who judge by appearances avoid him.
Question: what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia? I have him being content with his face as it tells a story of his life and he's a blunt, forward person, not covering his face for most of the story despite laws necessitating that he do so, and a few other things too (and many side characters with facial differences and deformities also).
Also none of the central plotlines centre around facial difference. He's joining a servant rebellion, befriending a bitter exile intent on status at all costs, and discovering the truth of history. (Also a mind controlling octopus being is involved and a semi sentient moon amalgam thing but don't worry about it everything's fine.)
I think later books will be a more effective counter due to lack of ugly laws and him finding a lovely interest. I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world. I want his happy ending to feel real.
I respect the hell out of escapist fantasies it's just that they do nothing for me personally. I really want to write someone dealing with a lot - more than I ever have - and coming out the other end happy. Yes this world is hostile and will judge me but I can find joy despite it all. Some say the world is universally cruel but I have not found this to be the case. It is wise to be wary but myself and friends can create small sections of time and space where no precautions are necessary. Am I not part of the world? Are not they? The world is not universally cruel as long as I and those I treasure live in and we are not extraordinary, simply uncommon, and what is uncommon is still a great bounty. (Something to that effect.)
I'm set on what I want to write but the specifics I'm more than happy to change in order to bring joy. Do you have ideas on how I can do this full idea full justice?
Hello,
before getting to your actual ask, I have a "few" questions about the premise of the story itself.
You mention that you don't like escapist fantasies - that's fair. Taste differs; you can write whatever and that's great. But I do find the insistence to write a story about a specific type of discrimination as an outsider rather strange. If you want to have facial difference representation, I assume you want to have readers with facial differences, correct? I mean, I don't think that many able-bodied people would be too interested in it specifically considering most don't know what it is. So okay, this is supposed to be a story of characters with facial differences overcoming centuries worth of hatred and all that. Arguably more, considering that disfiguremisia and ableism go all the way back to Biblical times.
Why are you the person who needs to tell this story?
Just as people with facial differences are readers, we can be authors as well. We tell our stories. I will take an #OwnVoices book over a one that isn't that any day, and this fact will influence the rest of this answer. I'm a firm believer in #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs and all when it comes to this stuff.
Have you talked to people with facial differences who would be interested in the kind of story you want to tell? Do you know what they want to see from an author that's not taking it from their own experience? I don't count here, because as I made clear before, I'm not and won't be interested in it. I also don't know anyone in the community who has ever said "I wish more people without our experiences wrote about how hard it is to be us!". You need to make sure there are people who want this.
So, have, or will you, reach out to those that could like it? Sensitivity readers, random people online who like to read about disfiguremisia in their free time, advocates who work on media-centric problems? Anyone who would enjoy it is automatically a better candidate to help than me. I'm too jaded, I suppose.
If you want to talk about people with facial differences in such detail and setting, you need to get to know us. One guy with a specific set of opinions from a blog on Tumblr isn't that (thank god), but I guess I can serve as a reminder that not everyone will be excited to read a book that represents them in some way. We still have preferences.
To write it, you need to involve yourself in the community, start actually spreading activism about our issues. Preach about Face Equality and celebrate when our once-a-year week happens in May. See what disfiguremisia causes. Share our efforts to get all the problematic garbage off the big screen. Read our stories. Understand us as people who are incredibly diverse, and that not all of us like to be described as strange or unnerving.
If you only want to talk about our suffering as some quota to fill on a "types of discrimination" list, it will always be flat and inauthentic, and if you don't put in the effort it's pointless. We don't want tragedy porn, and we don't need to be included in every story about struggles that just wants some brand-new type of bigotry in it. We want authors who care about us, the living and breathing people. And sometimes it might mean respecting our opinions on writing disfiguremisia.
Here is a great post by @writingwithcolor explaining the effects of tragedy exploitation. Not everything there applies, but I would consider it a very valuable read.
If you think about all this, and decide that you are ready to write such a heavy, community-based story, go ahead to...
Actual Answers! Hooray
what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia?
Sympathize with him. Disfiguremisia is a tragedy, it's brutal and it hurts. It's traumatic and impossible to forget, even if it wasn't happening constantly just to remind us that it's still there. On this note, I would recommend you research writing characters with PTSD.
Have him think about it. Sometimes I get home after getting stared down on the street and just want to yell. You don't forget a microaggression or a hate crime after five minutes. Let him vent and let him be upset. He can have flashbacks or recall similar situations that happened in the past.
I'm glad that he's aware of disfiguremisia unlike a ton of characters who are somehow always unable to figure out that it's a problem. If the ableism he's facing is so systemic and severe, individual people will be even more extreme. You can have him remember that the shop owner was a slur-spitting bigot, or that his neighbors avoid even talking to him. I want him to call them out - in retrospective, at the moment, in his head, whatever - on what they're doing. Throw a "not this fucking thing again" or something in there.
The minimum is to make him feel like a human with an internal thought process, who is able to actually experience what's happening to him, and for it to have long-term effects.
Also, outside of the whole disfiguremisia thing and me being overdramatic, check out our #blindness tag, and research burn scar care. If you don't show the boring and mundane, it will only feel closer to tragedy porn; just a sad thing one after another.
I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world.
This I think is the part of the ask that made me the saddest, and not because of what you wrote. I tried to think of achievable ways; ways that we did it, tried to do it, and are doing it, and one-by-one I crossed them out as "didn't work", "no one cared enough" or "kinda worked but honestly, it didn't". Face Equality is basically non-existent, not matter how much it hurts me to admit it! We are trying our best, and it doesn't work. It's just plain hard for me to come up with suggestions for this.
In fiction, I suppose that personal resistance is the way when it comes to this. I don't think there are feasible systemic changes that could happen that don't border on magical thinking or get into the "singular glorious revolution that somehow fixes everything and everyone lived happy ever after. We fixed racism, yay!". This just sucks.He could try to educate the people who are willing to listen - that's somewhat what I'm trying to pull off here on this blog, I guess. Sometimes it works, often it doesn't, but in his situation it wouldn't hurt to try.
The fundamental part here will be whether your character is able to find a way to make the ordinary person care in the end. To me, society who still hates us just as much, with a small group that thinks we're okay isn't a happy ending. The opposite, rather. It's cold and isolating to know only your friends could value you as a human being, and downright sad to imply that we should be happy for that. I don't mean that everyone should love us in every story, but there's a difference between The Ableism being represented by an antagonist or two versus the entire world except for the main characters.
If you decide to go forward with this story, I do hope your other readers with facial differences enjoy it!
mod Sasza
[This ask was submitted before my announcement of not taking questions regarding this subject matter. As of publishing this, it still applies.]
38 notes
·
View notes
Note
Sorry that leash belt ask just reminded me of this frantic thought I wrote down the other day about Ghoap pet play. It’s very rambly I’m so sorry.
Ghost has to take Soap out for runs to keep him in shape, cause he’s a responsible owner. So he gets all ready, normal running clothes, joggers, compression shirt, soft balaclava cause it’s still Ghost. Soap gets his muzzle(can’t have him getting over excited and accidentally biting someone), his collar, the smallest, sluttiest running shorts known to man, and his trainers. When getting him ready, Ghost likes to talk to Johnny. “Gotta get your shorts on, its bad practice to not cover up a bitch in season, distracting to the other dogs” “sit still, gotta get your booties on, don’t want the asphalt burnin your pads, huh pup?”. And the kicker, omg, Ghost gets one of those running belts that you hook the leash to so he doesn’t have to hold it.
ghost treating soap as his literal dog my beloved
liiisten LISTEN im like so actually obsessed with this thing you've sent to my inbox. you apologized twice for it an it's easily one of my favorite asks i've ever received. you absolute silly goose
the great thing about this, is you can (almost) make it... not really obvious kink.
johnny's muzzle for walks? a plain mask that looks like any other face mask, but maybe it covers up the gag between his teeth or it's a tight mask that wraps under his jaw and keeps his mouth closed. it's especially not out of place since ghost himself is wearing a mask
the fact that ghost's showing hardly any skin and soap is as close to naked as possible? easy, johnny's just one of those guys who wants people watching when he works out
the only things that really give it away are the collar and the leash. the thing wraps loose around ghost's torso but clips right on the front of johnny's day collar, it's not exactly subtle. but other than that? they really just look like two opposites running in the morning
(ghost locking the mask over johnny's face, rolling his eyes when he whines because "you know you can't be trusted around other dogs, pup. you want your walk or not?"
gets johnny to understand heel as just a click of the tongue, controls the pace of their runs with just one little sound
doesn't bother to tell johnny when he's stopping for a break, just stops and laughs when his pup nearly chokes himself - makes johnny even better at keeping his attention solely on ghost's smallest movements, even the indication of movement
always makes johnny piss at least once before they head home. usually their route takes them through a small park, so he's got some privacy, but sometimes ghost takes him to marginally more public spaces, but to watch his pup pout and whine. always makes sure he goes though, grunts "don't want to deal with you yippin' at the door while i'm tryin' to work. get on with it.")
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm joining my friends Take Over Challenge!!! This is a big step for me and you have to be nice. No meanie comments, my ego is fragile.
MINORS DNI. GO AWAY. SHOO. also no one be weird, both mikey and reader are of age and not minors. Don't be weird.
Bay Mikey x Fem!reader
Overworked
Warnings: SMUT, like a little plot, semi-public sex, kinda dom/sub vibes, little spanking, inappropriate use of the word 'sensei', oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, fingering, squirting, no protection cause he's a turtle, kinda cringe but we're doing our best, spelling mistakes,
God, you were so late.
But rushing down the stairs in high heels was not a task you took lightly.
It was Tuesday night and you'd finally found time to squeeze in a date with your boyfriend. Work had been riding your ass for weeks, keeping you most nights and barely giving you time to breathe.
Mikey, the ever loving perfect boyfriend, hadn't said a thing even though you knew it was making him upset. He took any spare minute you could give him, making you laugh and forget about all your worries.
Which is why you were throwing yourself down the stairs to the companies parking garage downstairs. You didn't have time to change or do your makeup before your date so you'd worn the dress and heels all day.
The dress was a small black cocktail dress with a missing back and flowy sleeves. It was Mikey's favorite dress (and it totally had nothing to do with the fact that he bought it for you).
Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, using all your weight you shove the door open, power walking through the abandoned parking lot to your car.
As you turned the corner, you saw Mikey leaning against the door of your car, wearing some of his nicer clothes void of his gear, arms crossed.
At the sound of your heels, he turned his head, a large grin lighting up his face. You ran to him, giggling as he stepped away from the car, opening his arms up wide. Jumping into his arms, you bury your face into his neck, holding him tightly.
Mikey's large hands engulfed your form, holding you to his chest, sighing loudly as he spun you around. "Oh, I missed you, baby girl," He panted into your ear, kissing around your ear.
"I missed you too, Mikester," He set you down, pulling away only a few inches so he could pull you in for a hard kiss.
Slanting his lips over yours, he stole your breath, his hands gripping and groping your thighs and ass through the dress. You wrapped your arms around his neck, twirling his mask tails around your fingers.
His hand came down hard on your ass, the slap echoing through the space. You gasped, pushing your chest flush against his. His tongue slipped between your lips, demanding your full attention. After not seeing you for more than five minutes a day, he was not about to waste a second.
"Mikey, Mikey," You pant, pulling away, feeling your face and neck flush deep red. "We're in public, baby, and I'm technically still at work,"
He growled against the skin of your collarbone at the mention of your (stupid) job, sucking a hard mark into your skin. He pulled away, meeting your eyes, enjoying how dilated and needy they were.
"You wanna see the date I had planned?" He kissed each word on your lips, making you giggle softly. You nod, and he takes your hand, leading you to the other side of your car. You gasp, hand covering your mouth as you see the display in front of you.
A large quilt was laid out on the ground, covered in small battery powered candles, with a cooler sitting in the middle, probably holding your favorite meal.
"Baby," You smile at him, tears misting your eyes. "You didn't have to do all this,"
He pulls you into his side, kissing the side of your neck. "You deserve it, baby, you've been working so hard and I'm so proud of you,"
You turn to him fully, placing a kiss to his full lips. As his hands start to slip up your waist, your phone rings in your purse. Jumping slightly, you pull it out and grimace.
"It's my boss,"
Oh hell no.
Mikey saw the light fade from your eyes, the way your shoulders fell. This was not allowed, not when he was around. He yanked the phone from your hands, denying the call and tossing your phone and purse to the floor.
"Mikey, I needed to answer that,"
"No, you didn't," His voice is deeper, suddenly hes stalking forward, forcing you to back up to your car, your knees hitting the front hood. "You're on break, and right now..." He leans in close, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. "You're mine. Which means, no bosses, no phone calls, just you and me,"
You sigh, slumping into his chest, wrapping your arms around him. "You're right, I'm sorry, it's date night, and I'm all yours. God, I love you,"
"I love you too, but you can just call me Sensei," Oh, you loved it when he called himself that.
It started as an accident, or rather a joke. He was teaching you some self-defense moves, and you'd jokingly called him "sensei" during one of the moves. It ended up with you pinned to the floor with your legs thrown over your shoulders and a hoarse voice.
He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips, then placing quick soft kisses from your jaw to your neck, making you giggle. He forces your legs apart, throwing your legs over his hips and planting himself between your plush thighs.
From this, Mikey moved a bit too roughly, moving your car at an awkward angle, almost hitting your bosses car. "Mikey, careful, missing phone calls is one thing, but denting my bosses car is vengeful,"
Mikey had been pressing kisses to your neck, but at your words he stops, lifting his head and meeting your eyes. "Your bosses car?"
You suddenly regret your words, shaking your head as Mikey grabs your ass and lifts you up, carrying you and putting you down in front of the hood.
"Mikey-Mikey, we...we can't" You push a hand on his chest, laughing through the jitters working from your core through your spine.
He pulled back, squinting his eyes and tilting his head. "I'm sorry, are you defying your sensei?"
"No-"
"Good." He interrupts, his voice lower, darker. "Now, be a good girl, bend over the front of the car, and pull up your dress,"
Your throat went dry, face and neck flushing the same red as Raphs mask.
Mikey took a step back, allowing you to stand. Looking around nervously, you play with the end of your dress. Sighing and turning around.
Your knees felt ready to buckle, your head lodged in your throat, but you couldn't deny the heat rushing between your legs.
Leaning, you yank your dress up and over your hips, putting your hands on the cold metal.
Mikey made an appreciative hum, a low chur coming out at the end. He stepped up, groping and massaging your ass and thighs.
"For someone who seems hesitant to do this, you picked some interesting underwear," His fingers trace the edge of your orange thong.
"I thought we would've fooled around in my car or on the roof. I know you, Mikey-"
His hand came down on your ass, effectively shutting you up. "Sensei," He corrected.
"I knew you'd want me... Sensei."
He pulled your thong to the side, your breath quivering as you felt him kneel behind you. He kissed up your thighs, nudging your legs further apart, making you bend over the car more.
He sucked a large bruise where your ass met your thighs, then nipped it, a bit harshly.
"Sensei," You moan, feeling yourself start to drip. God, it's been weeks since you've had any alone time with him.
"Hmm? What is it you want?" He kept kissing your thighs and ass, avoiding the throbbing spot between your legs.
"Please," You whimper.
"Please doesn't mean anything if you don't tell me what you want," He spanks your ass, rubbing the red spot.
"Please, Sensei, eat me out-"
He dove forward, pushing his tongue into your weaping entrance, lapping up everything your pussy had to offer.
Normally, he'd make you beg and plead more, making you say everything you wanted him to do. But this had to be quick, and he was already on the edge himself.
His hands pushed your cheeks apart, massaging them while his tongue twisted, pulled and licked inside you.
Folding your arms in front of you, you bit down on the sleeve of your dress, trying to be quiet. The last thing you needed was someone coming down here and stopping him.
One of his hands left your ass and came up to massage and cup your breasts through the dress. Realizing he couldn't just yank the top down, he unzipped just enough to have you pull down the fabric to expose a matching orange lace bra.
"You're so fucking hot," He moaned, flicking his tongue faster. His hand pinched and squeezed your nipples through the bra.
He slipped that hand back down your body, replacing his tongue with a thick finger, moving it fast and hard out of you. He stood, his other hand gripping your hip, holding you in place.
You moaned louder, forgetting about everything else. You just wanted him.
"You gonna cum?" He pressed his face into your hair, his voice hot against your ear.
"Yes, yes," You pant, twisting back and kissing him hard, tasting yourself on his lips. His thumb found your clit, rubbing hard and fast.
He held your lips as you bucked and moaned and squeezed him. His chest bloomed with pride, knowing this was all for him: all because of him.
He yanked his finger out, ripping his belt in half in haste to get it off and tugging his pants and underwear down just enough to free his throbbing member.
He smacked the tip against your clit, rubbing it up and down your soaked pussy.
"You want Sensei's dick in you, pretty girl?"
"Yes, yes, please, Sensei, fuck me, I want you so bad," you beg, sweat dripping from your brow.
He slams forward to the hilt, making you scream against the metal hood of the car. He fucks you hard and fast, not giving you a moment to breathe.
His hands gripped your hips, bunching at your dress, holding your shaking legs in place.
Even with your mouth clamping over the fabric of your dress, it did nothing to mute your moans and groans, not that Mikey minded. You're pretty sure it turned him on hearing how loud he could make you in quiet places.
Mikeys' hands moved from your ass to your shoulders, pulling your chest up, making you release the fabric from your mouth. He bent his knees, opting for quick, sharp thrusts that hit you g-spot, making sparks flash behind your eyes.
He was a bit embarrassed that he felt himself starting to get close, but it's been weeks since you'd seen each other. He figured he'd get a pass this time.
Your eyes rolled back into your head at the sound of your ass smacking against his plastron, feeling your skin starting to turn red.
"Fuck, I'm......" You pant, voice hoarse, sweating dripping from your face onto the car. "I'm gonna cum,"
That sent shocks down his spine no matter how many times he heard it.
"I'm gonna too, pretty girl,"
You sobbed, nails digging into the metal beneath you. "Yes, please come inside me, Sensei,"
His knees shook, he had to make you cum before he did, or at least right when he did. Wrapping an arm around your waist he pulled you against his chest, stuffing his face into your neck.
His other hand found your throbbing clit, rubbing it hard and fast, matching his thrusts.
You were so overstimulated, bucking and whining against his hands.
Not being able to hold back any longer, he moaned into your hair, bucking into with short, sharp thrusts. You screamed out, back arching as a gush of liquid splashed from between your legs, soaking mikeys plastron and pants.
He kept thrusting you through your climax, not stopping until your pussy stopped spasminning around his cock.
You both sighed, feeling all the oooey gooey goodness of your orgasms.
"Holy shit," You whine, looking down between your legs at the large wet spot on the ground. "Did I really do that?"
You made an embarrassed face, one that had Mikey chucking and pulling you closer. "Yeah, and it was fucking hot, can't wait to make you do that in my mouth," He licked up the side of your neck, making you shiver and involuntarily clench around him.
"You can't say things like that after making me cum that hard," You both laugh, Mikey gently pulls out of you, a combination of your cum dripping down your thighs.
Mikey spins you around, hugging you tightly. You bury your face into his neck, kissing it softly.
You pulled back to kiss him, but a timer on your phone had you grimacing. "My break is over,"
"You should quit this job," Mikey playfully kisses your neck, not letting you pull away. "Stay in bed with me all day,"
You laugh, cupping his face and making him meet your eyes. "No way, if it means I'll get more sex like that I'm not changing a damn thing,"
You both chuckle into the kiss, spending another moment in each other's arms, before packing up and heading back into the office.
But not before Mikey made sure to promise more dirty things after your shift.
tags: @thelaundrybitch @m1dnyt3-w0lf @happymoonangel @raphsmuneca @eveandtheturtles @pheradream-15 @dilucsflame33 @sketchy-loo6195 @leosgirl82 @miss-andromeda
#UM#so this happened#sensei mikey plagues my mind#and now you have to deal with it#tmnt#tmnt bayverse#tmnt mikey#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt mikey x reader#tmnt michelangelo x reader#tmnt imagines#tmnt imagine#tmnt headcannons#tmnt headcannon#tmnt x reader#tmnt aged up#sts takeover challenge#not my prompt list#it is my works
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
I need to prune the followers a bit. What are my most important controversial takes.
I am an anarchist. Yes this includes your favorite heirarchy. The United States is an evil of unprecendented power. Abolish class. Civilization was a bad move, the mesopotamians really fucked us on that one.
I follow the transfem style of agender kung fu. I think gender and sexuality is socially constructed bullshit without inherent meaning. I have opinions on transmisogyny and think it's an important axis of societal oppression unique to transfemininity. Also DIY HRT is fucking based.
I have type 1 diabetes. I wear a P100 grade 3m particulate respirator whenever I'm in enclosed public spaces because covid is still among the most deadly transmissible diseases in world history killing millions, vaccines and previous immunity have only temporary benefits when a virus is allowed to mutate unchecked, and masks fucking work. If you don't wear one I don't trust you and think you're being an asshole. Wear a fucking mask.
I'm not vegan and won't be. Even outside of the dietary challenges diabetes poses, I've only gotten less inclined to it as I've aged and gotten more conscious of where my meat comes from. My family are fishers, my extended family are cattle farmers, you don't need to tell me about what meat cultivation actually looks like, I'm familiar. I've also been trying to get my hunting license. Nonetheless, you have a right to choose what you put in your body, and access to vegan alternatives should be available to all who need with with the same convenience and price as animal products.
On that note: guns are based, and anti-gun legislation is cringe. I'm not American. Any law is evil when it's enforced by the pigs, but even if it weren't, the only reasonable restriction to gun ownership should be showing an ability to use it safely, as you do a car. Which is similar to the setup we had in Canada, sans a couple of nonsensical gun bans and magazine limits.
Speaking of legalization, drugs are morally neutral. You should be allowed to put whatever you want in your body. In fact you should be given unrestricted access to knowledge to make a completely informed decision, equipment to do so safely, and strong support systems if you need to kick the habit.
And finally: Bad movies are the greatest things ever made. An inspired failure is always more interesting than an uninspired success. Make art freely, take critique easily. Believe it to be the greatest thing in the world while you create it and when someone says it's trash say yeah I see why you'd think that it's not perfect. The time for ego is in the creation and the time for critique is in the consumption do NOT reverse the two.
55 notes
·
View notes
Note
I would like to ask if there are some things I've misunderstood or been misinformed about when it comes to masking. Are the following things true?
If I take off my mask in public for even a brief moment, it cancels out any positive effect wearing it might have had up until then.
If I touch my mask with my hands, my hands are contaminated and must be washed immediately with soap and water before I touch anything else.
If I take off my mask, it's "spent" and must be thrown away, and I have to put on a new mask.
I'm asking because I'm having a hard time figuring out how to drink water or eat food while masking, or if it's even possible to do so safely.
There's some crossed wires and half-truths here.
While unmasking in public for a moment doesn't undo the protection you've been doing, it does remove that protection and potentially expose you to covid. This risk is lessened outdoors, especially when you're far from others and it's breezy/windy (covid aresols don't stay aloft long on moving air; and the turbulence can potentially kill any virions that remain aloft... and being away from people diffuses any potential covid they may be exhaling, substantially reducing chances for infective exposure.) The risk rises the closer the people and in public indoor spaces (air changes often aren't high enough to clear covid aresols via ventilation. Big offenders in bad air circulation are schools, many medical buildings, and resturants.) You also are far less likely to get a good seal when putting your mask back on in public, increasing your exposure risk while masked again. It isn't all or nothing, but donning and doffing [taking off] a mask isn't just like pulling up socks: there's ways to do it correctly and most people don't.
This is following contamination controls for diseases spread by fluids or fomites. While covid rarely if ever spreads via surface contact, other diseases (such as mpox, potentially) could seep through the fibers of your mask given the right circumstances. All this being said, touching your mask (especially with dirty hands) fouls it like any filter. It means it will have to be thrown out sooner, and touching it may also break your seal. Avoid touching your mask in public and do try to touch it with mostly clear hands, and only on the edges of the filter material for best longevity.
Most masks used for covid can be used several times by most people. It's been proven in studies that the elastic on a disposable mask will wear out before average usage would wear out its filter medium. You should throw out any mask that is visibly dirty: sweaty masks grow mold. Dry masks can be stored in paper bags for a week or more to aid in basic decontamination, and you can use most masks that still have stiffness in the nosepiece and good elastic 3 or 4 times depending on type and how you use them. Daily wear (multiple hours at a time) will wear out the components faster. I have some KN95s that I opened in 2021 that I still use when opening the door to get a delivery or when I'm pumping gas around people or something like that. They probably need to be replaced soon (and many have been) but they've been used maybe a total of 25 minutes each and they're clean and the elastic and nosepieces are still good! It's all about being able to judge the quality. If you struggle with this aspect, it's best to play it safe and not reuse masks much.
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
back in the early days of my anime weebdom i, of course, spent a lot of that time obsessed with Fullmetal Alchemist. I stumbled upon an Edward cosplayer, but the person was wearing a facemask that covered their entire head, like mascots or Disney meet n' greet characters. And they looked so convincing, as if Edward Elric was inhabiting a 3D space for the first time. I was kind of enamored with how this was done. I did research on what sort of cosplay this was, how the masks were made, etc.
I will ramble a lot here, and also include a lot of pics of my own kigurumi cosplay. Because enamored.
Note: This got REALLY long, really quickly. Sorry! Be warned!
I found out that this was called kigurumi, and the style of costuming was actually pretty common in Japan, where anime meet n' greet characters often had this style of mask.
And yes, I figured out that it was a kink pretty quick.
I'm gonna ignore that for the most part but I'm certain that 99% of all kigurumi cosplayers are male enthusiasts as female characters. I even think that most female kigurumi cosplayers have female characters. Because female characters are ADORABLE and I agree! I would love to do a female kig cosplay eventually.
But first, a part of my weeb brain was transfixed by that Edward kig cosplay.
My research back then led me to believe that a kigurumi mask would be too cost-prohibitive. All masks had to be custom-made from resin and hand-painted. The work would probably cost close to $1000 and I gave up on my dream cosplay quest pretty fast.
Fast forward to this year, and during the time I was looking at Etsy for my Spider-Gwen cosplay, I got recommended a store that had kigurumi masks. In the ensuing years since my initial research, kigurumi masks have gotten less cost prohibitive. 3D printing means that the masks don't have to be hand-made. There are even small companies which mass-produce base masks ready to be customized, and this is what the Etsy seller uses to make their masks.
I was still enamored, and eventually, thanks to a sale (and thanks to also THE NEWS HAPPENING EVERYWHERE) I decided to just take the plunge and purchase a mask. I wish to be happy in the face of possible apocalypse. Instead of going for a custom for my first mask, i got one of the seller's pre-made, more generic designs. But after wearing this first mask, I might be hooked.
It might be a problem.
Initially I based my kig's look on Billie Joe Armstrong during Green Day’s American Idiot era. Short sleeve black shirt, red necktie, wristbands. The mask had black hair and red/pinkish eyes which I thought would go well with the clothes.
More research. I got a bodysuit because with short-sleeves, my skin would be exposed, and the illusion would be ruined. The suit is just a top. Head and arms are completely covered. I got a men's shirt which fits my smaller frame. A short necktie.
Oh yeah, and then there's the boobs.
But I've always been small in the chest, so a sports bra was enough. I've heard that many female cosplayers use chest binders when they crossplay but I guess I should be happy for my less than ample bosom, at least in terms of crossplaying.
What would be difficult for me is hiding my hips. I have very curvy hips and I know if I ever decide to take this guy out in public i will have to conceal them somehow. Probably padding around the stomach to de-emphasize them but that's not a now issue.
The mask itself actually has decent visibility, which I was surprised with. You look through the character's eyes. They're basically sunglass lenses with the pupils printed on them, so no one can see in but you can see out. No peripheral vision to speak of, but that's true of all full face masks.
And here's the initial cosplay test, sans the wristbands because i was so excited to do this I forgot to wear them. He needs a name, though. I'm leaning towards Billie-kun to name him after one of his main inspirations.
It's thrilling to wear a cosplay that you've taken time to put together. I've done multiple femme!Doctors, but this is the first time I've really crossplayed and it feels FUN in ways that the other cosplays didn't. Truly hiding one's identity behind a mask, truly embodying this character.
Edward Elric in 3D vibes. I found it again. 15+ years after my initial encounter with kigurumi.
EDIT: OMG I FOUND THE EDWARD ELRIC KIG COSPLAY PAGE
Gonna indulge in some more photos.
This was the first photo taken. You can't tell how much I was vibrating with excitement:
I have precious few things of clothing that would be appropriate for a male character, but this coat seemed fine:
Me realizing that I could see out of the character's eyes for real:
Pondering whether I should just be a bishie forever to mentally prepare myself for the horrors:
With the wristbands finally. I like how much more the red pops against the black:
No tie because SOMEONE had to go and break the adjustable bit in their excitement to put things on:
Found a hoodie that matched well:
With t-shirt of our lord and savior Hitori Gotoh from Bocchi the Rock:
If you've read through this entire damn thing, thank you very much for sharing my journey into kigurumi cosplay. I still would like to someday do that Edward cosplay but there's so many other possibilities, male and female, that I'd love to try.
Orrrrr Billie-kun could just be a one-off, unicorn of a bishie who is too perfect and can never be duplicated or replaced
GIFs because reasons
#it's my life#these things i think#i cosplay sometimes#kigurumi#animegao#cosplay#anime#long post#holeeeee sheeeit this was long and i'm sorry for subjecting y'all to this#i'll go back to just reblogging gifsets and silly memes now
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
More me yapping about my gf under the cut lol
She'll be here in 4 days and I'm still absolutely baffled at how good she is to me. I stare at her all I want and she doesn't think it's weird. She's started staring back recently and I get nervous and laugh and look away because I'm not used to being Perceived the way I perceive others but she really does see me
We'll be watching a video where someone is making chicken and she'll talk about what she'd do differently and she always adds "I would take the bones out for you". There was a video of a guy doing a food tour in vienna and he had those disposable wood utensils and I noted that I hate the texture of those things and, without missing a beat, she said "We can get one of those camping utensil kits. The metal kind. All the vendors here use wooden ones". Like no hesitation, no thought to it, just. Boom. Solution for my needs. She said she's excited to see my flappy hands irl. I explained I try to suppress them as much as I can in public since it's kind of frowned upon to be 25 and happy flapping at something, and she doesn't see them at my desk because I would just end up hitting the table. She pretty much only sees them in VR, where I have room and the comfort to stim. But she'll be here!! In my house!! Where I have the room and the comfort to stim as I need, and she makes me so happy she's bound to see them at some point
She never minds how sleepy I get during our calls because I'm working a lot, and I have an awful sleep schedule on days I don't work. We typically stay on call for them so she just blows me a little kiss and streams whatever video she's watching. I always just look at her though. Then when I wake up she smiles and softly says "Good morning, baby" and my entire heart melts.
It's incredible to see how confident she makes me. Even on days where I've made no effort, my hair's a mess, I'm wearing the most raggedy at-home clothes I have, and I'm just a face in a cocoon of a blanket she'll still call me gorgeous. She's seen me at every possible angle and insists I have no bad ones. The few times I've been honest about specific parts of my body I didn't like, she'll pay special attention to them until I can't help but think she finds them beautiful
It's also been incredible watching her gain confidence, too. Before we started dating, she'd only ever join calls with a camera once in a blue moon and, even then, only wearing a face mask and a hoodie. Now, even with new people in the group calls, she'll just wear a normal t-shirt and shows her entire face. She doesn't default to nervous tics when she discusses her body anymore and she'll even flex for me if she catches me staring while she stretches (which is. A lot. I like her arms.) and I can't wait to see her get to explore her femininity when she's here. She only has one "femme" shirt, and she doesn't wear it often. I'm sending her back with a bunch of skirts, dresses, and blouses. Even if she just wears them at home, they're all comfy and she'll have that option
We've both been talking about how we think our first meeting is going to go. I'm bringing her a bouquet so we can press them and she can take the dried flowers home with her after her 2 weeks here. I try not to think about when she has to leave because I know it's going to absolutely wreck me, but she's leaving me a ring (and a necklace with some charms, but the ring is the big one). I already call her my wife in online spaces but she'll really be my fiancee. It's wild.
I keep getting misty-eyed thinking of 2 whole weeks with her snoring in my arms every night.
#We've been saying “soon” since the countdown to her being here was at 150 days#Before it was literally just me coping with how far away it seemed#but it really is soon#She'll be here#She's pretty much all i talk about to anyone who will listen and I'm sure I'm pissing people off by now but if they don't stop me oh well#Basically just using my blog as a diary at this point lmao
4 notes
·
View notes