#and my stupid fucking disability makes it hard to move my hands

[dj-of-the-coven]

Y'all ever just spontaneously lose the ability to make art

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

OCT. 6 — KINKTOBER ‘23

HATE SEX & BREATH PLAY WITH JASON TODD

ktober m.list

tags: fem reader, meanie jason, alcohol, penetrative sex ofc

it was a messy break up the two of you had when still in college, if that’s what you could label it as. an established relationship was hardly spoken of throughout your whole time being with him. something along the lines of friends with benefits and situationship is what you’d categorized it in your mind.

because fucking without feelings quickly turned into fucking and cuddling without feelings, which then introduced everything that was a relationship—but without a relationship as the title.

jason was allergic to the conversations you’d attempt to bring up. asking the man ‘what are we’ as you slipped his shirt onto your sweaty skin. to which he’d shrug off while allowing you to spend the night, wrapping an arm around you and making you breakfast in the morning. just the way you liked.

it was two years since you graduated and the man had hardly touched your mind. only the times in which you’d catch up with friends from the same era in your life would you be reminded of him. and sometimes on dates and one night stands would he flash through your head, the remembering of how good at sex he was with you in comparison to the midnight men who didn’t know how to touch you right.

the man of choice tonight, though, was the man himself. the man who you despised, who you tried to ignore all eye contact with when you saw him walk into the bar where you and your friends were all sat at. head kept down and eyes locked onto the drink in your hand

but, one drunken thing led to another and your ankles were now thrown over the broad shoulders of the man who—without a doubt—hit all the places in which you’d missed him touching.

but the sensuality that existed in your uni years was taken away. soft thrusts turned rough, hardly giving you a chance to breathe through the yelling moans that you let out. sweet kisses turned teeth clashing and bites hard enough to make blood rise to the surface. if a sober thought past your mind, you’d yell at the man for attempting to leave a hickey. drunken thoughts could care less though as he selfishly left his marks from the underneath of your jaw to the side of your hip. saliva trailing down your body and swollen skin rising with heat.

"y’know my pussy missed me," jason grunts, one hand grabbing at your thigh harshly while the other’s pushing on your waist, holding you steady as if you’d squirm out of his grasp if you were able.

the words make you moan. his ownership of something that wasn’t his—hasn’t been his for years now—making your walls clench around him, and he can only laugh dryly. "fuckin’ whore, should’ve known you’d miss my cock, yeah? couldn’t wait to get fuckin’ stuffed the second you saw me walk in with all your friends," it’s hard to understand what he’s saying, but you can only bite back. "y’know you only walked in that bar for free pussy," and now jason’s hand is moving upwards.

rough and calloused fingertips finding your throat and pushing down to disable any airflow into your lungs. "what’d ya say?" his lips are pulled into a smirk, head tilting curiously—stupidly, because he knows you can’t answer. you can only sit there with your mouth agape as jason’s thrusts don’t slow for a second.

the sound of his thighs slapping the back of yours was filthy. but the wetness that screamed inbetween was worse. cum dripping down jason’s balls that hit your ass, spreading more wetness and making that much more a mess. "that’s what i fuckin’ thought, fucked all stupid," he groans, releasing his grip for a few seconds to allow you airflow.

his body leans down, and it’s hard not to devour with eyes alone the man that’s before you. broad shoulders that are near double yours. pecs that surround a silver cross necklace the man has worn for years now.

it makes you want to laugh. his attempt at finding peace in religion when he fucks you hard enough that you swear you see god in an orgasm. the way he tears you apart with words alone as the tip of his cock is kissing your cervix. the way he leans over you so the stupid cross hits your cheek with a feel of cool metal when he’s groaning out the words, "stupid fucking slut."

he’s holding himself up with a single hand. rough scars littering the skin while veins draw their way up to his forearms. the muscle flexed beautifully. so much so, that when you finally reach it with your eyes, you arch your back and squeeze them shut.

getting fucked alone by jason was enough. but to drink in the man that jason had become? close to doubling his size since college—which was only two years ago… you needed an entire day to process it.

instead it’s squished into the few hours that he’s seduced you into his bedroom, fucking you round after round. "who’s been fucking you when i’m not around?" he grunts in your ear, breathing into it before his tongue slides against your lobe. the question takes you out of the daze that you’ve been put in, attempting to scoff but ultimately moaning at the possession jason’s showing.

"fuck—shoulda-shoulda asked me earlier, would’ve made a list," you say between pants of breath. jason’s lips open to bite down on the soft lobe, a whine that pushes your head back against the mattress you were laid on.

"aw," he starts in a coo, "for being a slut," his tongue licks your neck, "still feel as tight as ever. still carved to the size of my fuckin’ cock ‘n nobody else’s." teeth clamp down on your sensitive skin, and your nails press that much deeper into his backside. an attempt at a warning, but jason loves the way the pain is subsided by the pleasure that is your dripping cunt.

his thumb finds your throat, pushing deeply to choke you once more. "must not be fuckin’ anybody worth a damn. nobody as big as me, huh?" thrust after thrust and you’re cumming on his cock without warning. a loud and choked moan slipping out of you while your vision turns dizzy and it makes jason wanna fuck you again.

after all, he could care less about the fact that you’re probably overly sensitive right now. maybe a few years back he would’ve pulled out, would’ve asked if you’re okay and thought of various ways to perform aftercare on your fucked out body. but, jason could give a fuck less, especially with the bratty words you’re spitting out to him. you don’t have a care in your tone, so why should he?

that’s why the snapping of his hips never halt. he doesn’t give you half a second to calm down when he feels you clench deliciously around his member. and when you’re whining, "jay-needa second, please!" he’s sucking on your tender skin, moving to cover your lips with his own.

"need a second? baby, all you need is my cock."

🏷️: @ash_cl0ud @harleycao @idyllcy @hails227 @aviixol @hopeannalea @hearttjason @finnlikesyourmom77 @roysjason @blursotongz @zaxlrza @wartofart

[notjustjavierpena]

Tension

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Back in November, I posted a fic where @nerdieforpedro wrote a comment in their tags that said ‘I need you to crack my back, sir’. This is stupid but it stuck with me, so here you go. I suppose it’s also my own way of saying that I see everything you all write about my stuff. I love y’all.

Summary: Your husband cracks your back when you come home from work. Also, you are trying for a baby.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, back-cracking, massages, a good girl, fingering, dirty talk, hard and fast piv sex, javier whimpering is its own warning, clit stim, breeding kink, creampie, they’re in loooove

Word count: 2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54705589

Tension

You drag yourself into the living room where Javier is currently napping on the couch, arms crossed over his chest and chin pointing downward. He looks peaceful but the tension in your back is enough to disturb him from his slumber and not feel bad about it.

You bend down over him, gently shaking him.

“Javi,” you call softly. It takes you three tries before he stirs, opening his eyes with a little confusion as he tries to figure out where he is. 

“What is it, baby?” His voice is slightly raspy from sleep. You smile apologetically.

“I need you to crack my back,” you say. 

You don’t know how it happened but it feels like something is pinched, probably from an awkward position during the night or even during other activities. You have tried to relieve the tension all day by twisting your body from side to side but to no avail.

“What?” He grabs the back of the couch to pull himself into a sitting position. You take a step back.

“I think something’s… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating. I’m tense as hell,” you explain, turning your back to him to try and point to the spot that’s been aching since you got into work in the morning, “It’s right here. Between the shoulder blades.”

“Right,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, inhales deeply, and breaks into a yawn, “Take your top off and lie down on the floor.”

You do as he says, smiling a little to yourself as you hear the groan that he makes when getting up from the couch. Perhaps you should return the favor. You lay down on the floorboards of the apartment, flat on your stomach, face turning to the side, and your arms along your sides. 

Another grunt is heard as Javier gets down on the ground with you. He places a knee on either side of your thighs, hovering above your legs, and then he takes a hold of the hem of your pants, “Okay if I pull them down a bit? Then I can do the whole spine.”

“Go ahead.”

Javier yanks down your bottoms, turning them into something that resembles low-rise style. He then heats up his hands by rubbing them together, “How rough can I be?”

“Can’t believe we’re doing something that requires you to ask that and it isn’t sex,” you wiggle your hips a bit but then wince as pain shoots through your body again.

“Answer the fucking question,” he says with a roll of his eyes, smiling but impatient.

“Don’t hold back.”

Javier’s now-warm palms settle on your back. You sigh softly at the feeling of him touching your skin so carefully, treating you like something delicate until you feel him place one hand on top of his other to center the pressure right between your shoulders. He pushes down and you exhale sharply.

Crack.

You moan in relief. Endorphins flood your system. 

“That was so nice, baby,” you praise, “Thank you.”

“I’m not done,” Javier kisses you right where he has just relieved the tension. Then he moves down and does it again.

Another crack is heard. You curl your toes, eyes fluttering closed as another wave of feel-good hormones begins to flow through your system. 

“Good girl,” Javier compliments, and you don’t have to ask if he is smirking because it’s evident from the tone of his voice as he sees the shiver that creeps up your neck, “More?”

“Please.”

So he does it again.

And again.

And again.

Until you feel like putty underneath his touch. You want to say something but with each skim of his fingers, each rough push of his entire body’s weight, you only manage to groan in pleasure. 

Above you, Javier has gone quiet but his breathing has turned more erratic. He has switched from cracking your back to massaging your sore muscles instead, kneading along your sides whilst you reward him with small sighs and moans of satisfaction as well as gratitude. 

You shiver as he presses his thumbs into the place where your neck meets your shoulders, holding it for a while before dragging his whole palms outwards. It feels good, almost like an embrace.

He repeats the move until you feel sweat starting to break out on your skin from how warm his hands are. A moan escapes your mouth, the same kind that you usually make when he kisses your neck. 

“You like that?” He asks in a tone that you know too well. You nod. He does it again but goes closer to your neck this time, fingers skimming along your pulse point.

Something in the atmosphere shifts after that. 

Soon, he descends on your body, going achingly slow as he searches out his goal. He ends up digging two thumbs into the very top of your ass. He isn’t downright groping you but there’s a hesitation each time he pushes into the plump flesh there. Teasingly, you push up into his hands.

“You’re so sexy like this,” he mutters and you can hear him move on the floor, crawling backward so he can kiss the small of your back when he leans down. 

“With a sore back?” You snort to hide how excited this is making you, a dull ache settling between your thighs.

“In any way,” he clarifies. He doesn’t even hesitate when he starts pulling down both your pants and your underwear, and you don’t protest but instead lift your hips to help him yank them down until they sit around your ankles. 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he dips a finger inside of you, pushing down towards your stomach to make you squirm on the floor. You whimper. He makes a come-hither motion to rub against your g-spot and you immediately move your arms forward to grab at the ground. Your cunt squelches and Javier swears again, “You’re soaked.”

“Of course, I am, was so fucking good the way you were touching me, and… I’m like a damn clock with being wet for you when I ovulate,” you moan, pushing back against his hand. He groans at the realization of what time of the month it is. He gets to put a baby in you.

His fingers work you open, teasing you towards an orgasm by doing exactly what he knows gets you there quickly. The sounds of your wetness are obscene, only getting more lewd when you come right there on the floor with your pants around your thighs. 

“Baby, shit, more,” you pant with a desperate whine, clenching around Javier’s digits as they continue rubbing against your front wall even though your orgasm has long subsided. He doesn’t relent but you don’t mind, relishing in the pressure inside of your cunt. It’s good but it’s not his cock, “Fuck me, baby. Please, I— I need you in me.”

You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone and then the shuffle of denim being pulled down. You look over your shoulder to find him with his jeans sitting around his knees, too desperate himself to get fully undressed. 

“Eyes forward,” he commands you and ignores his own desire until you do as you are told. You hold onto the floorboards with flat hands, only spreading your legs slightly to make him as tight a fit inside of you as possible. 

His whole weight crushes you so heavenly in the next moment, and his generous length sheaths itself in the warm embrace of your soaked walls with ease until he bottoms out. Your face screws up with the intensity especially because he leans down over you to groan hotly into your ear. 

“Love this little pussy,” he moans as you both adjust to being connected like this. He rests a forearm beside your head, biting into your shoulder and soothing the mark with his wet tongue. It drives you insane that he is not moving inside of you yet, and he seems to know with how he taunts you, “Want me to fuck her silly?”

“Javi,” you whimper and nod frantically, “I’ll come so good for you, milk your big cock with my pussy. Please, baby.” 

“I bet you will, mi chica sucía (my dirty girl),” he answers before giving you exactly what you want; the first roll of his hips makes your mind go blank, even moreso when he starts fucking you into the floor like an animal. 

His legs frame yours, his pelvis crashes into the plump flesh of your ass with a dirty smack each time, and he is burning hot against your back. You won’t last long with him reaching so deep inside of you, the thick head of his stiff cock sliding over your g-spot like his fingers had earlier. Each nudge makes your cunt suck him further in, and he starts panting above you with the effort he puts into fucking you. It doesn’t even occur to you that your knees are aching when he has you like this. 

“Please,” you beg without exactly knowing what you want from him; everything he is giving you has you dizzy with lust. You tense up as your orgasm approaches with rapid motions, and he goes even harder now that you don’t fly forwards with the slamming of his body into yours, “Gonna come— I’m… oh, I’m coming, fuck, baby, I’m coming!”

“I can feel you,” he growls and barely moves inside of you anymore, having replaced it with grinding against you to not miss a single pulse of your spasming, peaking cunt. You writhe underneath him, and he treats you to a messy kiss as one of his hands comes up to cup your chin so he can turn your head. 

“Come in me, please, baby, need your babies in me,” you cry against his mouth with furrowed eyebrows. He whimpers at your request, faltering in his rhythm for the first time since he started fucking you. 

“I’ll make you come so hard again, mi amor (my love), want you to spasm around my dick,” he stutters a bit when he speaks. The hand on your chin slips down your body and then underneath it too, his flat palm against your pelvis until he presses up into it to angle your hips. You stay in this new position, back arched to perfection - dopamine in your body making you forget the ache - so he can stab at your g-spot and follow it up by rubbing your needy clit with no buildup. 

The neighbors are bound to hear you screaming as you come again a minute later. The clenching shocks of pleasure are mind-altering and enough for Javier to finish alongside you, spreading his warm seed inside of you with a desperate groan. 

You both collapse with him still buried in you. Your clothes are sticky with how much you have sweated, your knees ache with reality slowly coming back, and your body feels warm and sated despite it all. 

“Let’s just lie here for a while,” you say and reach behind you to grab at him as he starts to remove himself from you, “I think this was it. I know it sounds stupid but—“

“Nothing you say sounds stupid, mi amor (my love),” he still breathes hard, brushing your hair away to kiss your neck, “Love making babies with you.” 

You make a noise of agreement. Then you rest your cheek against the floor whilst he nibbles on your neck, humming softly at the feeling of it combined with the lingering pressure of him in your cunt when he finally slips out. 

“Te quiero tanto (I love you so much),” you say with closed eyes and a satisfied smile. 

“Love you too, baby,” he says back and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[teojira]

On my hands and knees for some general headcannons for Koba, a fragile friendship forged from a hunt gone wrong or just mildly getting along like pissy siblings 😭. Your writings are so memorizing, and it's like eating a 5-star meal. All the kudos and love for you as my favorite pota writer

[General Koba drabble/ headcanons!] [Platonic]

Summary: Koba deals with you because he absolutely has to, not because he actually cares for you.

Warnings: Platonic Koba and Reader, Koba being a dick but that's canon.

A/N: THANK YOU SO SUCH KIND WORDS I TWIRLED MY HAIR??? this literally means so much to me, thank you :( I tried my best to incorporate both ideas you had! I hope this is good, Koba is kinda hard to write for and I am nervous lmfao.

Ohhh my fucking god, will he never let you rest.

Koba doesn't love humans, it is so very very very apparent in everything he does that he DOESN'T like you, he would let you drop dead in front of him without caring.

Imagine his shock and gal when he starts to actually form some kind of attachment to you. How bitter it makes him to think he can even have a somewhat positive thought about you.

It makes him want to claw his fur out, maybe even go blind in his other eye to get some damn sense into him. How dare you, and if he cared to use human curse words, he'd call you every name in the book.

He begrudgingly will help you learn how to hunt, and I mean begrudgingly. Caesar has to damn near hold the bonobo at gun point to get him to stop being so fucking hostile and just give you a chance.

He watches you from a tree as you hunt pitifully, the spear much too large for you to wield like apes do. It's pathetic really, watching you stumble like a baby elk with no sense of balance. You can't spear a single fish.

"Human...stupid." The Bonobo sneers, rolling his eyes after you continuously miss, he can see your face burn with what he's been told is embarrassment. Serves you right.

Koba has no actual plans on helping you, until he starts to see you throw your spear onto the forest floor with a thump, curling into yourself, hiding your face in your knees.

Great, now you're crying and he's gonna have to be the one to deal with it. Just, Great. Just what he wanted to deal with.

Koba is already mentally trying to prepare himself to get down and attempt to soothe those pitiful cries coming from you when he hears footsteps rapidly approaching.

You, being so caught up in your own world, don't realise a mountain lion is stalking you, but Koba does.

It's scary how fast he can move at his age and with his disabilities, he's down the tree and at your side before you even realize.

The growl he lets out startles you enough to break out of whatever trance you find yourself in, watching Koba plunge his own spear at the mountain lion, the large cat yowling when it's hit You can't help but let out a yelp of your own.

Koba puts more force, piercing the jagged rock deeper into its neck, breathing harshly from the extension.

The cat falls silent finally, Koba turning to you, staring down at you with a glower.

"....stupid."

Koba chooses to ignore how you look back at him with appreciation, he didnt do it for you, he did it for Caesar. Doesn't matter if it gives him a pleasant feeling deep in his core.

This starts you both off with a rocky 'friendship' between you and the old Bonobo.

He doesn't like that you seem to keep following him around the colony and very vocally tries to scare you off. Hell, he tries to pawn you off to Stone and Grey, but it's no use.

For some reason, you've decided that you'd make his existence even harder and make it a point to bug him.

He hates it. He hates you even more. But it's akin to having a dog, and he lets you know so.

"Like dog. Follow Koba." "That's rude." "...good."

He's such an asshole it's ridiculous. What do you see in him?

Koba eventually gets used to his new normal, antagonizing you just as much as you do him.

He's learned how to get away with fucking with you so that he doesn't get in trouble with Caesar or the others.

Fucker has pushed you into the lake more times than you can count and it makes him huff out laughter. It's all under the guise of being playful.

Jokes on him because you constantly will try and touch him, saying he has fleas or what not, only for him to growl at you when you pull back and stick up a middle finger towards his face. Peak sibling behavior tbh

Caesar sees you as a good thing for Koba, exposure to a human that isn't out to harm.

No matter what Koba claims, you're harmless. Everyone knows this.

They fight about it, Koba adamantly saying he was no part in caring for you, but when Caesar raises an eyebrow ridge, signing quickly that this isn't a discussion, Koba fumes.

Would rather drop dead than admit he misses your presence. If you decide to spend more time with Maurice or Rocket, he gets so pissy.

Koba will drag you away if you push him hard enough, grabbing you by your waist and dragging you. He doesn't care if you don't want him man handling you, oh well.

I know it in my heart that he yanks your hair to piss you off. He does it to get your attention. It's never for anything of importance, he just likes that it pisses you off.

"You can literally just chatter, and I'll hear it!"

The asshole just shrugs with one shoulder.

He's insufferable, and I hate him.

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

I’M STUCK ON THIS FUCKING PLANET. I’M STUCK ON THIS GODDAMN EARTH.

Tap photo for better quality

That’s right!! I’m talking even more about sinner bodies because I’m CRAZY!!! RAAHHH!! 🤪 SHES SO CRAZY WE CANT TAKE HER ANYWHERE!! 😝 it’s 3 in the morning and I can’t stop thinking about this goddamn TV.

I think Vox is genuinely the most fucked up character in this rewrite currently. Not really morally fucked up, there’s definitely worse people, but physical alterations in hell out of the main cast he definitely has it the worst. In my last post I talked about how Angel formed in hell and I want to go back to this because Vox did not form in hell as a TV or even a robot at all. He got formed on the road after dying in a car crash and was literally just this fucked up clump of wires and metal panels and had gross little robot hands and he had to make everything else himself and wait for his body to adjust to it, so he literally cannot regenerate normally. He didn’t even have a face yet or screen of any kind, just a little camera to see out of. If his screen shatters he needs to get a new one or if his body breaks he needs to get it repaired, thats why he’s able to upgrade his body and stuff.

And like yeah some tech sinners do just form as robots but Vox just is a fucking mess and I think about it all the time and thats why his demon form is all fucked up like that and I think thats partially another reason he hates Alastor’s ideals so much sometimes because hes like “technology bad!” even though he literally is also partially a tech sinner and hes just stupid but like without technological advancements Vox literally would have nothing like they wouldn’t’ve met, Vox would not have a company, etc, etc and thatd probably help a lot of people yeah like the Vees would not fucking exist but ignoring that, just on a personal relationship scale I imagine your “friend” being like “man I really hate the thing that gives you life and allows you to live a somewhat normal existence” hurts a bit.

Technological regeneration is a bit more confusing and hard to explain than biological regeneration since machinery can’t really “heal” in real life. The concept sounds almost bewildering, like you can’t cut a wire and have it slowly heal like skin would, you’d need a whole new wire. But Vox internally, the things that allow him to move and live how he does now, it’s the only part of him that he can heal, and to him, it’s still “defective”.

Vox is disabled mentally and physically; he has Autism, ADHD, and epilepsy, all of which he is unable to be medicated for due to his new body. These are all things that he hates to acknowledge and will become irrationally upset by if they are mentioned to the point he will actively to deny certain aspects of disability. Being a man from the 1900’s-1950’s his views on mental disabilities and mental illnesses are… less than uh.. “acceptable” for today’s standards. He often disregards slurs towards this being called slurs and insists that “They used to just be words” or “It’s a medical diagnosis.” yet still gets incredibly upset when he is ever called a slur that actually could apply to him. In a way he tries to come off as purposely ableist so that he doesn’t have to confront this aspect of himself that he doesn’t understand. His knowledge in technology or sharks or economics aren’t “special interests” to him, they’re just “regular things a man likes”. He can’t process what a hyperfixation is. He doesn’t know that it’s normal for him to be unable to speak on occasion or that certain textures make him severely uncomfortable. These are either seen as weaknesses or “average people things”. Aside from how terribly disabled people were treated back around the 50’s, he views the neurodiverse aspect of his mind as something that only serves to further push him from grasping the feeling of regular humanity again.

For physical disabilities, he doesn’t lie or deny that he has epilepsy, yes he has an intense disdain for mentioning it, but for very few people he is close with he will disclose this information to them privately. There are a very select few people that are aware of this and two of those people are Velvette and Alastor. This post isn’t really about diving into Vox’s epilepsy so I’m keeping this concise because I have another post to put all of that in. Hope you all enjoy the wacky art :)

The binary says “Trust us” for anyone curious

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ out of the woods - chapter eight (ls2)

Dhanishka makes a difficult decision, but after 76 days, finds its hard to stay away from both her boyfriend and the world that raised her. So, she decides to make the comeback no one was expecting--but hoping for.

tws/notes: like one breakdown but shes chill, logan and isa are my kids i stg

(series masterlist) (last chapter)

dhanishkadubey

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, logansargeant and 987k others...

dhanishkadubey: As of this morning, I have chosen to fully step away from Formula One. It has been a long and hard conversation with my friends and family for the past two weeks, but alas, this entire situation and investigation are too much for me to handle at the moment along with continuing to race with Ferrari. That, plus my worsening injuries, are the main reasons I have decided I will be retiring as of today.

Ferrari will forever hold a special place in my heart. They are the ones who have trusted me since back in F2 to represent them in their Junior Drivers Academy, and since that day they have always been my family.

To Charlie, or Chuck, thank you from the bottom of my heart for bringing me in. Thank you for always supporting me. The amount of things you have done for me are immeasurable, I cannot thank you enough for everything. Aiya says that there's a seat for you at our table next time you're in Bahrain.

To Logan, it has been a wonderful experience to fall back in love with you. Funnily enough, you're sleeping on my shoulder as I write this. If I had to do it all again knowing what would happen, I would come back to F1 over and over if it meant every time I got to have you in my arms again.

To Olivia and Lando, thank you both for the support. From me crying on your shoulders at 3am over stupid boys (sorry logan), to both of you supporting me in this insane moment of my life. I owe you both a big bottle of wine and maybe a whole vacation after this.

And Thank you to all of the other people who spent their days with me uplifting me, working hard to support me, and being absolute angels. From fans to my own managers and trainers and PR, thank you, all of you.

Oh, and best of luck little bearman, you'll be amazing ! ❤️

Forza Ferrari, upward and onward from here.

comments have been disabled for this post!

My hands haven't stopped moving in hours. Each dish has been meticulously polished to perfection, my hands cramping from the force I apply.

"Babli." My mother comes up behind me, taking my hands in hers and squeezing them, "they're going to be packed away, [no need to wash them so hard.]"

"[Sorry, Mom.]" I huff, setting the sponge down and rolling out my wrists and stretching my hands, "I just... it's been..."

"A lot. [I know. You have been so strong, Babli.]" She smiles, kissing my forehead, and the use of my childhood nickname--something they had stopped calling me after Trident's incident, made my heart ache. She coaxes me to go sit back down at the table and I do, leaning my head into my hands as I open my laptop again. The notes Olivia had taken from my meeting with the FIA staring back at me.

'Purposefully loose bolts on DRS connectors. Break lines partially slashed. Paid around 10.000 Pounds per incident. Astrid Marina. Anthony Davis.'

I groan and begin typing back responses to her questions. This is being taken a bit further. Now William's is fully suing Anthony Davis for blackmailing, with me sort of 'curtopsey copied' on it. I was in a mess with Ferrari right now, so I didn't feel like dealing with another court case on top of that.

Or, moreso, the break I had after the Canadian GP was so bad I was forcibly sent home.

I can hear the Austrian GP playing on the TV. Anya cursing in a mish-mash of languages at Carlos for fucking up his drive or something, and I slam my laptop shut with more force than necessary.

"Dhanishka!" My mother goes to scold me until she sees I've stood, hand tight on the top of my laptop as I stare at the TV in a mix of anger and... regret?

"Danny?" Anya's muted the TV, turning to look at me and there's something in my chest that just snaps and I burst into tears. I hadn't cried once in the past few weeks of absolute hell, between everything with Ferrari, choosing to leave Formula One for the foreseeable future... it was a fucking mess.

And I'd done so well at holding everything together. I'd fooled everyone, even myself, into thinking I was fine.

My mother pauses washing the dishes as I scoop up my stuff and retreat to the safety and solitude of my childhood bedroom. Screaming in some sort of anguish as I drop my stuff on my desk and just drop to my knees.

My head had been a non-stop migraine for weeks, my ribs had been a constant ache, my shoulder only getting worse. I spent every day in long meetings that only made me more and more lost in my situation.

"Anya, [I told you not to do that and you did! Just watch it in your room!] You knew it would upset her!" My mother's voice rings from the hall until I hear my bedroom door creak open and then feel my mothers hands on my sides. She gently lifts me up and then sets me on the bed, leaning down to grab one of Logan's hoodies I'd stolen so I could throw it on.

She doesn't say anything, just kisses my hair and leaves me to sniffle it out as I wipe at my tears.

She comes back with some tomato rasam, urging me to eat it to calm my body down, and she soothes a hand through my hair and braids it while I shakily spoon the soup like dish to my lips. When I'm finished, my mother kisses my head and at my seemingly calm nature now, she leaves me be to the solitude of my room.

I don't know how long it's been until I hear shuffling in the hall again, but I've retreated to laying tucked as tight as I can be in my blankets.

"Babli..?" My fathers voice calls from the door and I huff, burying myself deeper in the blankets. he must've gotten home from work during my rush to my room to hide the tears that threatened to fall. He knocked once, then twice, then on the third he just chose to enter my room. It took him a moment to spot me amidst my blankets, but when he did he smiled and made his way over.

"Sorry I missed dinner, [I had to pick up a package on the way back from work.]" He smiles softly, sitting on the edge of the bed to pop down a little cardboard box, "[For you, babli.]

I sit up and wipe at my face, noticing how my father had used a marker to cover the shipping address. But I swore I could read a little bit of 'FL' on it. I gently open the box with the letter opener he hands me and find a little Williams logo looking right up at me on the back of an envelope. I laugh softly and take out the card, opening the envelope to find the card inside.

‘Isa,

I hope this reaches you before the end of Austria! If not, it’s still quite cute I think. Alex and Lily have these and I figured it’d be cute for us to get them too. Also, the Williams team has sent you a little blue care package to life up your spirits :)

see you in Austin baby, love you to the edge of the universe and back.

- Lo.’

I set the card aside with a wobbly smile and open the first layer of packaging to find a small black box. Slowly opening it, I’m met with two things, a red string bracelet and a small bracelet. I pull both items out and twist them in my hands before adding them to my right arm stack.

A logo on the bracelet, totwoo, catches my eye and I quickly Google it.

It’s a fucking touch band. A long distance bracelet you can press to send a signal to, and as I hear the announcer speaking to Logan I nearly throw myself out of bed trying to get to the TV.

And when the bracelet lights up on my wrist, it takes a second, before I see Logan pressing it on the tv. Three short taps. I love you.

Tears spill out of my eyes before I can explain to my family, but they see my wobbly smile and understand that for the first time in nearly three weeks, my tears are good. My father brings the box to the living room and hands me a second letter, explaining the two items and my heart swells again.

'and a red string! I've got one too. I think we were always destined to be together.'

The bracelets, plus the little dolphin plushie his niece said he had to buy me (with its fucking Miami Dolphins jersey because of course) makes my heart so full, I feel the ice that threatened to hide me melting.

dhanishkadubey

liked by williamsracing, logansargeant, oliviapiastri-norris, and 678k others...

dhanishkadubey: after six weeks i think i've started to heal. [i love you, bahrain <3]

tagged: anyadubey, totwoo, logansargeant

user1: LOGAN AND DHANISHKA HAVING LONG DISTANCE BRACELETS. SHOOT ME. OMG.

anyadubey: so glad to have u home habibti <3

totwoo: seeing love from austria to bahrain in real time!

user2: dhanishka leaving f1 makes me so sad but im glad shes glowing now <3

logansargeant: tbh i think this is the most i've ever missed you?

dhanishkadubey: stop ill start crying :( ft me

dhanishkadubey

liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, alexalbon, and 569k others..

dhanishkadubey: some all new bts from my shoot with @ vogueindia x @ sabyasachi !! such a blessing to get to work with the amazing @ opheliapiastry , sabyasachi team, and the vogue india team ! [much love 🩵🤍 can’t wait for you all to see the final product !]

tagged: opheliapiastri, vogueindia, sabyasachi

sabyasachi: [an honor to work with you!]

anyadubey: i was there for this and im still just. jaw dropped, on the floor. wow

logansargeant: anya how do you think i feel?

anyadubey: simp.

user2: i need to see dhanishka back in a race car or ill die

—

Oscar and Lando have done a pretty good job of hiding me while interviews are going on. Logan had done exceptionally well, placing top five, and I'm trying my hardest not to let my excitement get out of me early.

"Fucking Jenson-- hurry it up, man, we can only stand here for so long without looking weird." Lando complains and I stifle a laugh while Oscar whacks his chest. The sound draws Jenson and Logan to peek over, luckily I'm able to hide before they see us--or before Logan does. Because Jenson grins and nods to Oscar, who leans back partially.

"That might be your cue, Danny."

I poke my head out to see Logan has his back to me and smirk, running over as fast as I can without alerting him. Jenson, thankfully, keeps Logan distracted until I place my hands over his eyes.

"Yo, what?!" Logan laughs, grabbing my wrists and accidentally pressing the button on my bracelet, making his buzz. He pauses, presses it again while I hold in a laugh and the cameraman adjusts his angle to get Logan's reaction as he turns around.

"Isa!" he shouts, nearly knocking me off my feet with the force of his hug and I laugh now, wrapping my arms tightly around him as he hides his face in the crook of my neck.

"Hi, jaan." I whisper, feeling his arms tighten around me as I close my eyes and snuggle into his hold. One of my hands comes to take off his hat that's stabbing my shoulder so I can run my hand through his longer hair as I rest my cheek against his head.

Through a slightly teary strain he murmurs, "God, I fucking missed you so much."

"I missed you too." I whisper back, "and, I might've told James to go ahead and announce it."

"No." He leans back, holding my face and looking at me for any sign of a lie. When all he gets is a smile he starts to laugh and pulls me in for probably the softest kiss that we've shared.

"Yep." I say in response and he presses another kiss to my head, before turning back to Jenson who smiles like a proud father.

logansargeant

liked by jensonbutton, oscarpiastri, williamsracing, and 876k others...

logansargeant: a great surprise to end off a great weekend, i love you, i'm so proud of you, and thank you for everything, meri jaan 🩵

dhanishkadubey: MERI JAANNNNNNN <3

logansargeant: MERI JAANNN

user1: f1s number one power couple fr

dhanishkadubey: also this is YOUR WEEKEND MR P4???!!!!!!

user2: logan's face when he saw dhanishka im gonna cry

user3: get urself a girlfriend who leaves from her modeling gig to surprise you just because

williamsracing: it was lovely to have a bit of the future with us this weekend 💙 (iykyk)

user4: williams what does this MEAN???

-

f1

liked by dhanishkadubey, logansargeant, and jensonbutton, 998k others...

f1: 76 days after announcing her 'retirement' from F1, Williams has signed @ dhanishkadubey on to drive with them for the 2025 season.

user1: YESSSSSSS WILLIAMS WILL THRIVE!!!

user2: logan went 'nah y'all aren't gonna treat my gf like this' and got her ass in williams

taglist (thank you !)

@nichmeddar @shineforever19 @d3kstar @chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia @daemyratwst

[corazondebeskar-reads]

well it's love, make it hurt - chapter fifteen

well it's love, make it hurt series

fifteen: would have been nice to say I knew you

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: You and Mando meet again.

Warnings: discussions of genocide, the purge of mandalore, descriptions of grief, survivor's guilt, communication?, talking about feelings??, a tiny bit of groguito

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

9 ABY - Fall

You can’t breathe. Sure, it could be a different ST-70. Maybe all Mandalorians flew them.

But—

You turn your wrist over and stare at your chrono.

You have to try.

You feel like the ghost, now, your limbs cold and prickling. Your feet carry you down the tree to the forest's edge.

It never worked at long distances. But—

If it’s his. If he hasn’t changed the programming.

It pulls right up when you turn the dial.

You press the first button to disable the ground security protocols. It gives no indication of success or failure, but it never had.

Your finger hovers over the button that, if he’s left your chrono coded into the system, will open the ramp.

Your hands shake so badly that you miss the button on the first try and end up jamming your thumb on the screen before getting it right. You’re so busy being mad at your chrono and your stupid nerves that the hiss of the ramp lowering startles you.

The thought of walking up it nearly makes you puke.

It’s funny, you think. You haven’t delved into any of the games you used to play with Mando in five years, but one look at the Crest makes a masochist out of you. That must be it, because otherwise, why would you be stepping into the hull while your chest is screaming?

Time has stood still in the Crest. It’s neat and clean. Your old bed-turned-sofa sits against the wall. You can’t bear to open the bunk or climb up to the cockpit. You can’t move at all, actually, leaden feet stuck in the purgatory of the entrance. Neither in nor out.

But it doesn’t smell right. It doesn’t smell like Mando. Sure, gunpowder and oil permeate the air, but the deep spice of his cooking is completely absent. The scent was so strong before that it clung stubbornly to every soft surface and couldn’t be shaken out.

“You went to all the trouble of that elaborate stunt in the cantina just to come right to the ship?”

The crackle of the modulator startles you enough to whirl around, blaster pointed.

“It worked, you know,” he says quietly, hands up but slowly climbing the ramp.

You back up, blaster unwavering.

“I lost your trail. Smart trick.”

“Then how’d you find me?”

“Got an alert that you disengaged the ground security.” He sighs, and his shoulders slump. “Can we talk?”

“Where’s your baby?” you counter.

“Sleeping in your apartment.”

“What?” You stare, mouth agape, top lip arched in a facsimile of a sneer.

“Well, it’s the safest place in the city, other than this ship. And I wasn’t sure how this was going to go.”

“You left your baby in my apartment. My apartment full of weapons.”

“He’s in the pod, he’ll be fine.”

“You left your baby locked in a pram in an apartment full of weapons.”

“He’s not my baby.”

Mando gives a little shrug with one shoulder.

You stare at him, eyes wide and wild. “That’s... that's worse.”

“I have a monitor.” He presses a button on his vambrace and a speaker crackles. If you listen closely, you can hear soft breathing.

You think something in your brain has snapped. Or exploded. Something critical, maybe. The nausea has been replaced with rage colder than hyperspace. It gives you the nerve to stomp past him down the ramp.

He doesn’t try to stop you. He does, however, follow you.

“Kriff off, Mandalorian.”

“I would, but I have to go with you.”

You whirl around, blaster still in your hand. “Do not follow me.”

“I need to pick up the baby. He’s at your place, remember?”

You scream. You honest-to-stars fucking scream, throwing your blaster in favor of shoving him hard with both hands.

He stumbles back a little. He must have had his guard down; he didn’t really think you’d come at him.

But you do it again, and it’s all the worse to realize he’s just letting you, and nothing is satisfying the burn, the way your teeth ache for a fight. What are you supposed to do? Punch him in his beskar head?

“Fucking coward,” you snarl, gearing up to push him again for lack of a better outlet.

He catches you by both wrists this time. His grip is firm but not painful.

You struggle even though you know it’s over.

He holds still and silent as you spit vitriol and kick at him. He even anticipates when you lunge to sink your teeth into his gloved fingers, yanking your wrists away, and you stumble.

Of course, he pulls you steady, unwavering.

Your chest is heaving; you’re still burning. “Fight back,” you huff. “Fucking fight me back.”

“You don’t want to fight,” he says, infuriatingly calm. “You want to hurt.”

“Don’t you start that shit.”

“I’m not going to, cyar’ika. But I know you.”

“Stop,” you yell. “You don’t get to say that or anything to me. You’re dead.” Your voice breaks humiliatingly on the last sentence.

“I’m sorry.”

You wrench out of his grasp as he repeats it.

You let yourself fall on the ground on your ass., leaning back on your hands in the damp field to stare straight out at the trees.

He sits down next to you, wise enough to keep a safe distance. You hate that it’s easier when you don’t have to look at him. That you can feel him, and you know, you just know it’s really him.

You close your eyes and shake your head. “S’not real. I had a bad ronto, and I’m going to wake up in the fresher.”

“That happen a lot?”

“Nah, just the once.”

“That's good. I gave one to the kid.”

You tip your head back and stare up at the stars. "How are you here?” It’s just a breath louder than the breeze.

“My tribe did not live on Mandalore, but on one of its moons,” he begins but pauses to think. “There was a... complicated political history, one I was too young to understand, that split the Mandalorians. My people built a home on Concordia.”

“You always said—”

“I know. I’m sorry. At the time, it was simpler. Easier than explaining something I didn’t know enough about.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” you mumble. “You didn’t owe me anything. Still don’t.”

He’s quiet for a minute. “Do you truly believe that?”

“Why now?” It comes out softer than you meant it to. Defeated.

He sighs. “At first, I couldn’t. I tried to reach you. But from the sound of it, I made it to Nevarro about three months after you left.”

The nausea comes back with a vengeance. “Oh.”

“I understand, now. Why you left,” he says.

It doesn’t matter. You’re fractured, like the next words out of his mouth will shatter you.

You hadn’t waited.

You had run away.

The horror must show on your face because he does a double take and sits up on his knees, turning to you. “No, sweetheart—”

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Maybe not. It was selfish. But I’ve been looking for you in every crowd for the last five years, and when I finally got a lead, I couldn’t help it. Told myself I’d just see if you were alright. But then I got here. And you were. You were safe, almost happy. I had about worked up the nerve to walk away.”

“And then I tackled you and held a knife to your throat?”

“No. Then I saw you wearing my tunic.”

"What, were you watching me sleep through my window?"

He's quiet for a beat too long.

"Wow. You were."

"And you were using it on purpose."

“It’s just a shirt.”

“Is it? If it is, I can go.”

You both fall silent.

You wrap your arms around your knees and stare at the ground. “I grieved for you,” you whisper. “It’s so stupid. I know it's nothing compared to what you've been through.” You wipe your eyes on your sleeve. "And it’s not like we were together. ” You fail to keep the bitterness from your voice.

“It would have been so much easier if we just… never saw each other again. I would have missed you, but I always knew how it would go. But the idea of you—” Your throat tightens, and you stop, struggling to take a deep breath.

You thought you were over this part. Instead, it's like cutting open a freshly-cauturized vibroblade gash. “I wish you hadn’t come. It was cruel of you.”

The night is quiet, save for the gorgs. What feels like hours pass as you sit side by side in silence.

“You never said it back," he says, not without a trace of sorrow.

You look up, the sudden noise catching you off guard. “What?”

“You said we weren’t together, but that was your boundary. Your choice from the beginning. ‘Hunting and fucking, nothing complicated.’ I thought, for a while, that things had changed. That you just needed time. But you never said it back, and then you left.”

“Never said what back?” Something is itching in your brain, something horrible and sickly. Oh, no. No, no, no.

He tilts his head, and you realize you’ve said the last bit aloud.

“No, that was a dream. We were on a beach, which never happened, so it was a dream.”

“That night? After… after we left Axis?”

You bury your face in your hands. This cannot be happening. You don’t know if you’ll survive this.

“You might have been falling asleep, cyar’ika, but I said it.”

You shake your head. “No. It wasn’t real.”

“It was. I said I loved you.”

“Stop. Stop it. You’ve done enough; fine, I hurt you. I didn’t mean to, but you can’t do this to me.” You dig your nails into the flesh of your forearm and focus on breathing, but the world has narrowed to a roaring wind in your ears and black tendrils taking over your vision.

It's been three years since you've blacked out like that, but it must have happened, because he’s holding you up when you can feel again.

“There you go, sweetheart, just breathe,” he’s murmuring. His bare hands are on you; you can feel the heat on the back of your head and middle of your spine. Your face is burning, and throat flayed.

“What doesn’t matter?” he asks.

“What?”

“You said it doesn’t matter.”

You shake your head to clear the storm and pull away from him, thankful that he lets go without a fuss. “Oh. It doesn’t matter, Mando. It doesn’t matter what was or wasn’t said. Not now.”

“Why? Why doesn’t it? It feels like it matters a lot.”

"We've lived completely different lives; we're not the same people we were then."

"We're not so changed that we can't understand one another."

You’re tired. You’re too tired to move or think carefully enough for this conversation. The panic always drains you, and it’s as if your body is finally catching up to the last three hours. Instead of answering, you just bury your face back in your hands and groan.

“Hey,” he says, reaching over to pluck a leaf from your hair. “I don’t want to leave things this way. Will you stay? Just for tonight, so we can talk in the morning.”

“I don't think that’s a good idea.”

“You fainted. I don’t think you should try to walk home. Unless you want me to give you a ride?”

“Don’t think you can land the Crest at my apartment.”

“No, with the phoenix. The jetpack.”

That wakes you up a little. “No. Absolutely not. No, thank you. I’ll sleep here with the gorgs.”

“You’ll get eaten by a puffer pig.”

“Will not.”

“They can be vicious when they want to.”

“They love me,” you say and wish you hadn’t.

“I bet they do,” and it’s sickeningly soft, not a hint of teasing. “Please, cyar’ika? I’ll sleep in the cockpit; you can have the bunk to yourself.”

You sigh. You don’t think you have it in you to scale the fucking spires and Oga’s roof again. You could go around, but that’ll add another hour. By then, the fucking suns will be up.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” you say.

“Okay,” he lies. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.”

You let him help you up but pull away when he tries to support you. You don’t need the help; you could stumble around the Crest and find the bunk even if you were fully asleep. All these years haven’t changed that.

When you lay down, that’s the end of it for you. All your energy slips out, and you barely notice when he tucks the blanket in.

You meet the kid first thing in the morning. Like, first thing. Two hours later, with the three Batuuan stars beaming down from the cabin to the hull.

You meet him immediately because he climbs onto the bunk, and you startle awake, reaching to draw your blaster. Lucky for the kid, you left it in the fucking field overnight.

You sit up, and he climbs into your lap and looks up at you with huge brown eyes that should frankly be weaponized. He tilts his head and coos.

“Are you the baby?” What a stupid question, you think through the haze of too little sleep and too much everything else.

He grabs your hand with three little fingers. It’s painfully cute. And painfully painful. He has some sharp little nails.

You look around the bunk. It’s the same as it ever was, except for a fabric draped across the ceiling. The sharpness starts to grow again behind your sternum, but it’s cut off when the kid makes another sound. He reaches up, and you inexplicably lean down. His little hand touches your cheek.

“Yeah, okay, you’re very cute. Did you need something?”

He looks up at you, unblinking, and you find yourself in the galaxy’s strangest staring contest for a minute. Then he yawns and reaches his arms up, and it clicks.

“Oh! That’s your bed, isn’t it?” You lift him and help him climb in. He nestles into the hammock and falls right to sleep.

You think about doing the same. Just going back to bed, or at least pretending to, so you don’t have to face Mando.

Who, of course, pops up in the doorway. He was always so fucking quiet; it only got worse after he stopped wearing his armor around the ship.

Now, though, he's fully clad. He has a hand on his helmet, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I tried to keep him away.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug. “I kind of stole his bedroom.”

“No, it’s okay; he sleeps in the pod all the time.”

Another awkward silence falls. Your head is pounding.

“C’mon, I got breakfast.”

“You got breakfast, or you made breakfast? Because I haven’t had to eat rations in five years.” You accept his peace offering and slide out of the bunk.

He closes it behind you.

“You trap him in there, too?”

“No, he can get out. This is just in case you yell at me again.”

So much for the fucking peace. You scowl and rub your left arm.

He sighs. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this, either.” He waits a moment. “It’s a platter and caf from the docking bay.”

He’s got you there, and he knows it. He brings you the caf as soon as you sit down.

You brace yourself when the modulator picks up an inhale, but when he speaks, it’s not what you were afraid of.

“He’s a foundling. I’ve been quested to return him to his kind.”

“Oh.”

“He was a bounty, first. It’s a long story, but one I would very much like to tell you someday.”

And there it is. You close your eyes, lips pursing.

“I know you said it doesn’t matter. And if it’s what you really want, I’ll leave you alone,” he says.

You chew on your lip but don’t speak, which he takes as an invitation.

“Or, you could come with me.” He raises a hand when you open your mouth. “Just for a few days. I have to leave today to follow a lead before it’s too late. I can come back. Or you could come with us.”

“I have a whole life here,” you warn.

“Is that a yes?”

You groan. It shouldn’t be. You should go to your apartment, pack up your things, and take the next ride out of here so he can’t find you again. That would be the smart choice, to protect yourself.

But what you say is, “Fine.”

“Okay.” He tries to weigh his options, how best to proceed without spooking you. He wants to tear his gloves off and grab your hands, to pull you into his lap.

He doesn’t. He knows you’re not wrong. The things you both have lived through while apart are not insignificant. The pain has forced you to grow in different directions.

But it aches to have you sitting there, to have you home, and to not really have you at all.

So he does the only thing he can think of in that moment. Something desperate but not reckless. He’s thought about little else since the encounter with Gideon.

“Cyar’ika,” he begins cautiously, fingers tapping against the table. “I need to tell you something.”

You look up, lips pursed but eyes soft. Open, willing to chance what he’s about to say, but not without a hint of fear.

“My name is Din.”

*title from "Carpathia" by Taking Back Sunday

[nabaath-areng]

I don't know how to handle breaking down like this, I was free for a while from the bouts of complete and utter inability to move and react to my environment for between an hour to several hours at a time while my heart and pulse go absolutely haywire, I have barely any energy to keep up a conversation without feeling like I have to disconnect from my body entirely, I feel like all I do these days is despairing over the fact that I don't know what's wrong, that I'm not strong enough to fight for any sort of help and worrying that by the time someone cares enough to look it will be too late for me.

I know full well that I've had the means to recognize when something's wrong completely beaten out of me and it terrifies me to think that I won't be able to distinguish between daily shit vs actual danger. I don't recognize myself, I don't know how to feel normal, my physical breakdown is stealing everything I love from me and I'm starting to lose hope.

My throat hurts so fucking bad because the tears want to explode but they can't cause I've lost almost all ability to show both pain and negative emotion like crying. I'm trying to stay normal, to force myself to do the things I love, but I get so exhausted and I feel like a burden on everyone I know for being a mere shell of my former self. Even when I was broken down from psychosis people told me that I made them laugh. I used to be on the phone with my mom for up to 3 hours every time. Now I can't even read her messages without feeling horrible dread about being unable to mentally conjure up a response.

I'm starting to resent my home even though I love it because it's starting to turn into my prison. At least before I could leave the house and go out. Now I have to debate whether or not it's safe for me to shower half of the time. I fall from the stars more and more often nowadays. I keep passing out and injuring myself, both small dips and full out collapses. My hearing and vision both black out more often than before. My foot is deforming itself, and so is my knee it seems. My thumbs are broken beyond repair. Brain gets so foggy I can't do anything but stare into nothing.

I struggle with speech more and more, language is getting harder, and I struggle more and more in games including FFXIV because I lose all ability to move my hands and grasp what they should do or where they should be or move. I am struggling to keep my composure when upset more than usual or I get so apathetic that the thoughts I get scare me with how uncharacteristically negative they are. One day activity requires several days to recover from.

I keep trying to not talk about it cause I don't wanna burden anyone or make everything about myself to be this, but god it's turning out that way anyway and it's not like I'm even good at pretending that this isn't killing me on a fundamentally soul deep level.

I want to be okay so fucking bad and I want to be happy and I wanna draw and write and play games and talk to and hang out with friends and loved ones and take walks and grocery shop and cook and bake and so much more. I don't know how to not feel useless now that I'm losing the extremely few things I actually had potential with.

Maybe my worth as a person does not lie in my productivity but I guess I'm a bad disabled person then for finding it hard to be happy about losing everything I fought to stay alive for. I don't even know what I'm saying at this point I'm so tired and sad and

I don't know what to do about it and I don't know how to make things better even though I'm desperate to figure something out that doesn't require me to humiliate myself before healthcare providers that scold and berate me for being a stupid autistic hypochondriac tranny addicted to google and benefits. More and more it seems like the most likely outcome is a downwards spiral of this until there's nothing left and every part of me is beyond repair and salvation. A slow and painful demise outside my control. I don't know how to process the possibility that I might not get to live as long as I maybe should.

[galaxyedging]

Charlie SNL x f!reader

Warnings: Smut. Angst. Domestic violence. People being assholes about disabilities. Adjusting to disabilities.

Previous part | Masterlist

WC:3.7k

Moving On

"That's funny because I called your office. They said you were taking a personal day….." Daniel's words hung in the air.

The food that smelled so delicious before turned your stomach. "I…."

"You were with Charlie." It was a statement. His tone was the same as if he'd informed you that you were out of milk.

This scenario had played in your head a million times. In your head, he'd been angry, he'd be upset, he'd never been calm. With Chloe's words changing your outlook on your relationship, the calmness of his demeanour began to unnerve you. With no point denying it you spoke up "Yes." The word was strong yet you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes.

In your preferal, you watched him pour you both a glass of wine and begin eating his dinner. "It's okay. I'm not mad."

That brought your eyes to his. "You're not?"

"No. It was a mistake. We've all made them." It was stupid, hypocritical but your gut twisted at the implication that he had cheated on you. "But you're my wife, not his. We'll get past this."

"I don't want to get past this. I'm sorry, I should have told you. I didn't want to hurt you."

Daniel carried on eating as if this was just a normal evening meal, like you were just telling him about your day. "Like a said I'm not mad. It's done. There's nothing to be hurt about."

"Daniel. You're not listening."

The crash of his plate against the wall caused you to jump to your feet. "No. You're not listening. We're married. You're my wife. You're not going to leave me for some cripple. You're staying." He bellowed.

The side door was just a few feet away. Everything in you told you to run. Daniel always had a temper, he'd never hurt you before but you'd never left him before. Shaking, you took the slightest step towards the door. Daniel was round the table and in front of you before you could take another. Your whole body trembled. As he raised his hand you flinched. The hand came to the side of your face before cupping your cheek.

"Babe. No. I scared you. I'm so sorry. You don't have to be scared." He pulled you into a hug before peppering kisses over your face. "It's all okay. I still love you, let me show you." His hands moved to your hips dragging you against his obvious erection. The thought of him being able to get hard while screaming at you, sickened you.

Pushing down your fear, you placed your hands on his shoulders. "Daniel. No."

He stopped kissing you. His eyes bore into yours before he reacted suddenly, by dropping to his knees. "You can't leave. I'll be different. I know you're on the fence about having kids but we could have a family. Let me give you a baby." He nuzzled your stomach, pressing kisses to it. His hands gripped your hips tightly.

"No. That's not going to happen. Daniel. Please. Let me go." You tried to sound braver than you felt.

Pressing his forehead to where he pictured your future baby growing, he bursted into tears. Sobbed wracked his whole body as you peeled him off you.

"I'm sorry." You meant it as you backed up towards the door.

Thankfully, Daniel left it open while he was cooking. You were almost through it when your plate hit the wall next to you.

"I hope you'll be fucking happy helping him wipe his ass rest of your life. He probably can't even get it up to fuck you any more. You deserved each other. His body's broken and your fucking brain must be broken. Dumb fucking bitch…" The plate had scared you so much you froze but his furious tirade had you slamming the door and running to the neighbours house.

"...I just frozen. Then I knew I just had to get away." Exhaustion pulled at you when you finally sat in Chloe's living room recounting your day. "To think I was worried that having a cop as a neighbour might make us a target. If Tony hadn't been home, I don't know what I would have done. He went back to the house to get my purse. Daniel packed me some clothes, he insisted. Tony said he apologised over and over all the while. He told him to tell me he wanted me back."

"Fucking psycho." Chloe muttered as she poured another glass of wine.

"Tony then drove me to the station. He told me to make a report of Daniel's aggressive behaviour. The officers that took my statement told me to keep any evidence of anything further. Just in case I have to take him to court. I can't believe it. I know he could get angry but I've never been scared of him. I suppose I've never cheated on him before…"

"No! It doesn't matter if you cheated, there is no excuse for his behaviour. No excuse, you hear me?"

"Yeah. I know you're right. I'm just so tired. It's been a long day. Spending the afternoon with Charlie…"

"Which you will be telling me all the details of…" you yawned loudly as she spoke. "...tomorrow. Go to bed. I'll take tomorrow off. We'll stay in, binge a show, eat some junk food."

"That sounds good. Thank you so much."

"You've been here for all my break ups. I'm just returning the favour."

"Hey, Shirley. Hey, Miles." The rehab facility became a second home. Needing a fresh start, you'd quit your job. Taking one with a company that had been after you for a while. The gap between you leaving date and your new start date gave you time to sort your life out. Chloe was still letting you stay with her. It was touching how much she cared. The friendship between had always felt more like a familial relationship.

It was a relationship you were extremely thankful for as Daniel had made it his mission to make you the bad guy to your family and friends.

Strangely, he failed to mention his outbursts, his stalking behaviour or the restraining order you had to file against him.

Sadly, the members of your family that believed him would probably explain that all away. You didn't have a large family. It was mainly your mom and her sisters that raised you after your father died. You had a few cousins and that was it. Being the good God-fearing folk they were, you were instantly the bad guy who had to make it up to her husband. The words 'a baby will bring you closer together' were mentioned several times.

Luckily, you had Chloe, and with the support of Tony you managed to get all your things from your home. Tony had offered to stand guard while you two packed things up while Daniel was at work. It was strange trying to condense all your belongings down. There were so many things that you had bought but they had been for your home with Daniel. It seemed strange to take them with you, with no home to take them to, as a reminder of your home Daniel. In the end you were left with your clothes and a few boxes of personal stuff.

"Hey, Roberta. How did Charlie do today?"

Roberta was in charge of Charlie's physical therapy. As well as having to deal with all the bullshit in this world as a black woman, she was also born with Phocomelia, her left arm was only half formed. Woe betide anyone that tried to tell her they couldn't do something. According to her, if she could adapt to her situation, then her patients could give her one more step. Although, you didn't exactly agree with that outlook. We all have our own mountains to climb. We all have different ways of coping. There was no way you were brave enough to tell her that. The woman could wither you with a look.

"Hey, Sweetie. Charlie did well but…."

"But what?"

"Nothing, it's not my place to say. I'm here if you need anything."

The hairs on the back of your next stood on end. It had to be bad news, rushing along the corridor, you found Charlie sitting at the table by his window. The table was cluttered with small plastic pieces, some tools and little pots of paint. A few Warhammer figures sat on the window ledge. It had taken Charlie over a week just to make the first one. The next two were a bit quicker. The use of his hands was improving. They trembled less and were becoming stronger and more dexterous each day.

"Is everything okay?" The words flew out as you crossed his room.

"Good afternoon to you too." He chuckled rolling his chair back from his table.

"Hi." You left a quick kiss on his head before sitting down next to him. "Roberta made it sound like something was wrong."

"Oh, she did, did she? Well, she just tanked the Trip Advisor review I was leaving for this place."

"Charlie!" You sighed. Usually you loved his sense of humour. After his good looks, it was the next thing that attracted you to him.

At work there was always a buzz around Charlie. He gave off such an effortlessly fun energy. He never tried too hard or made jokes at anyone's expense. He knew when to leave a joke alone. His wit was razor sharp. It was his humour that had carried him this far. The rehab was taking a toll on him. The little reward for so much effort was weighing on him. He was making progress in becoming more self reliant. Transferring himself from his chair to his bed or the shower became a lot easier for him. The doctors still didn't know if he'd walk unaided again but that didn't stop Charlie putting the effort in.

"The company let me go. They found a way to accuse me of risking the family friendly reputation the company has with my affair."

"What?! They can't do that!"

"They can, Honey."

"Well, screw them. When you get out of here you can walk into any job you want." Part of you cringed at your choice of words.

"Yeah, I know I can roll right into a few jobs." The little laughter lines around his eyes crinkled as smiled. "The thing is…" he began letting his grin drop. "...my medical insurance runs out next week. My savings won't cover me for that long."

"Move in with me."

"What?"

"I was keeping it quiet until it was all done but I've bought a ranch house in the suburbs. We could easily get some modifications done. I can work from home while I get set up in my new job. I can be there if you need help."

"I know that your heart is in the right place with this. I'm just going to need some time to think this through."

"Of course, I…" His rejection choked you a little.

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't. I would love to live with you. To wake up with you everyday and just be with you whenever I want. I just can't help feeling bad that this isn't a choice we'd be making for those reasons and that I might have to rely on you for a lot of things. Just give me some time. Okay?"

"Of course."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"You wanna go for a ride?"

When you looked at him quizzically, he clarified. "On my lap. To the garden. No funny business. I'm getting stronger now. I could do with the challenge."

"Adding my weight would be a challenge?" You did your best to look mock offended but you couldn't help the smile at seeing Charlie ready for a challenge again. He was also so driven and determined. The clients always loved how he would go about and beyond for them. He'd do what they asked and then some. He was the same with you. He was never content to just go through the motions. There was effort put in and attention paid to everything he did for you.

It used to break your heart to see him do the same for Morgan but not get the same care in return. That's what had finally prompted you to open up to him. To tell him that you wanted more than just sex with him. You adored him and he deserved to be cared for as well as he cared for others.

Charlie held his hand out before bowing his head solemnly. "A challenge I would gladly accept, my love."

Carefully, you sat across his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. Charlie had it all the way to the main desk before Roberta caught him. "Charlie! What do you think you are doing?!"

He stopped in his tracks at the sound of her voice behind him. Miles, a retired football coach, getting on his feet after a hip replacement, was still sitting doing his jigsaw. "You go for the end zone, I'll run interference."

Shirley, a nurse herself, who was hit by a car, sat opposite him finishing a scarf for her nephew. "Do you know how hard that woman's job is? I do." Charlie and Miles both hung their heads a little. Shirley then leaned in to add. "I also know she made me do two extra circuits yesterday so you be as big of a pain in her ass as you like."

Charlie took that at his cue to make a break for the door. The path was clear, everything was looking good except for the fact that Charlie didn't take into account that hitting the ramp outside at speed was like hitting a speed boost in Mario Kart. Hitting a rose bush, head on, at full speed was very much akin to taking a red shell to the face. Luckily, you were able to put your feet on the ground to steady Charlie and his chair.

"Whoa. I got you."

"I know." The grin that bloomed on his fave was far more beautiful than the blooms you nearly found yourself in. "You know I might need someone to keep me from totaling this thing. Maybe moving in with you would be the responsible choice."

"And you are nothing if not responsible." A smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around Charlie's neck.

Roberta's death stare was burning a hole in the back of Charlie's head as leaned in to kiss him. When you pulled back her gaze had softened. The softest look you saw on her face was when Charlie left the facility ten days later.

The house had been ready for you to move into. It was an open plan, single storey. The adjustments needed for Charlie were easy to make. Within a week you'd settled in together. Charlie was regaining his independence. He still had his physical therapy, your insurance cover him now that you lived together. His therapists were all impressed with his progress. He was strong enough to transfer himself everywhere he needed. Sometimes you worried he was overdoing it. Every night he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He'd have his therapy, workout, do chores around the house. He didn't seem to rest. It was as if he constantly needed to move.

With the first full day off you had, a plan formed in your mind. A day on the couch binge watching John Wick before the new one came out. The snacks were bought, you were going to order takeout. There would be no reason to do anything but chill out.

There may have been an ulterior motive for your rest day. Since you went back to work and Charlie was busy all day before crashing at night, the physical intimacy between you had almost evaporated. There were a few kisses and hugs, when you left for work, when you came home, when you got into bed. That was it. Charlie was always so physical with his affection. Even just sitting with you he would keep a hand on you, or just the barest touch of his finger tips, just to keep contact with you. It was his love language. That was kind of how this whole thing started.

With one movie down, Charlie asked if you want to start the next. "We don't have to stay in all day you know?"

"I know. I want to. I've missed just cuddling you. It's been a long time since we just cuddled." It sounded pathetic when you said it out loud. With everything that you both had going on you were upset that you hadn't snuggled for a while.

"Oh, Sweetheart. I'm sorry. I guess it has." He pulled you even closer to him, where you had been tucked into his side now your knee was over his legs. You were fully pressed against his chest. As the movie played you traced patterns on it. He was warm and firm under your touch. This was the longest you'd had your hands on him in three weeks.

Even when you were sneaking around you never went that long without touching. The longest was nine days. Then he'd followed you into the copier room before locking the door. He'd taken you hard and fast, bent over a desk. One of his hands over your mouth, holding back all your moans. One had furiously worked your clit so you'd follow him quickly over the edge. He'd bitten into the material of your blazer at your shoulder to muffle his own sounds. The ones that escaped sounded like a chant of your name.

The heat of him next to you, along with the memory had you squirming in your seat.

"Exciting movie?" Charlie teased. As you looked up to answer him his lips met yours. They barely parted over yours and it only lasted a second but it was enough of a taste to have you panting for more.

"Or is there something else you've missed?" With his newly gained strength, he lifted you to straddle his lap like it was nothing. His lips returned to yours as his hands cupped your tits. He held the weight of them in his hands before stroking your nipples to peaks. Once he felt they were ready, his lips travelled downwards. He sucked and bit at them through your oversized t-shirt.

"I've missed you, too, Baby. Lemme see you." Charlie's hands left your chest only to help you with the shirt. The warmth of his hands soon returned. "Fuck. I've missed these pretty tits." His words tumbled out across your breasts, along with kisses. He took his time alternating between licking and sucking your aching nipples and rolling them between his fingers.

"Charlie. Please." You weren't sure if that was a plea for him to stop or give you more.

He decided to give you more. One of his hands massaged the tit he was sucking on with the other trailed down your stomach to the waistband of your leggings. The time it took him to push past it and finally touch your centre felt like an eternity.

"Charlie!" Even with that single touch you felt like you were close to coming. His finger dipping inside you to spread your slick over your clit pushed you even further.

"So wet. You missed me that much?" He muttered against the curve of your breast.

"Yes. I've missed you touching me." A flash of guilt crossed his handsome face at your words.

He opened his mouth to speak, only to close it and slip three fingers inside you. He kept them shallow. The stretch was pleasant, not too much, it was still overwhelming to have him inside you again. It was your turn to open your mouth when he started rubbing your clit with his thumb. It slid side to side with ease. It didn't take long at all for you to start fluttering around his fingers. A toe curling orgasm worked its way through your body. Your pussy clenched around his fingers. Your thighs clamped around his. Your fingers clutched at his curls. "Oh god. Charlie! Charlie." You all but sobbed at the waves of pleasure washed over you.

"There you go. I've got you." He soothed as he gently kissed your flushed flesh.

That should have satiated you, all it did was stoke your hunger. As soon as he removed his hand you dropped down against his crotch. Kissing him deeply, you ground your soaked cunt against him. It took you a while to feel it, or rather not feel it.

"Fuck." Charlie gripped your hips to stop you before dragging his hands down his face. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." You covered his hands with yours.

"No, it's not. It's…" a frustrated grunt punctuated his sentence.

"It's fine. Today was perfect."

"It has been. I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated." You eased off his lap. "It's like I take a step forward then two back. This whole time I've been thinking that this is just temporary. What if it's not? I've been working so fucking hard. What if I don't get back to how I was?" Tears welled in his eyes.

"I'm here for you. We'll deal with it together." At that point he started to shift towards his chair. "Charlie?"

"That's just it though we can't deal with it together. This is my problem. I'm the one who apparently can't get his dick up. I'm the one that couldn't beat the shit out of your ex when he was scaring you. I'm the one that needs help." His voice was breaking as it all came out. Just as the tears started flowing he backed away from you.

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass

"Charlie." You had nothing else to say. How did you not realise that he'd been so optimistic all this time because he thought this was just a problem he needed to work hard to solve? You had always accepted that this could be a new way of life for both of you. Since Charlie seemed to accept it too, you had just gone about setting up your new life together. Now you had no idea what life held for you as you watched him leave.

Next

[lily-janus]

Someone Like You - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | next

Summary: Janus and his dad are both hurt and haunted by their past, it's time they'll talk about it with each other, and what's a better time than 2 in the morning?

Pairing: past anxceit, pre romantic roceit

Warnings: grief, mentions of past accident and death, regret, self deprecation, disability, insomnia. Let me know if there's anything I missed.

Word count: 1,416

Hey folks! Sorry for the late update, this week was hectic for me omg. But I'm here to deliver you another unhealthy dose of angst horray! @prince-rowan-of-the-forest

Just stop thinking about him…

Stop thinking about Virgil…

He doesn't matter anymore…

You don't need him…

Janus turned in his bed, it was hard enough to find a position where his left leg hurt the least, but now he was so restless he couldn't stop moving and turning.

Why the fuck did he agree to go there? What was he thinking? All it did was bring back all the pain he spent so much time trying to push down…

It's not fair how Virgil can hurt him even when he's not there while he gets to laugh with his new friends and kiss Roman's soft lips whenever he pleases and-

No, that's not the time to be thinking of this… he needs to sleep…

Ugh who is he kidding? He's not going to sleep tonight…

With a sigh, he got up and went to get himself some water and maybe a - he checked the time - 2am snack.

When he got to the kitchen, however, it wasn't as dark and empty as he expected. His dad was sitting at the table, looking at a photo that, even though Janus couldn't see it, was obviously of his mom.

So, it's going to be one of these nights it seems… great.

"Hey dad.." Janus said softly but his dad still jumped in surprise.

"Oh! H-hwy buddy! What are you doing up?" His dad put up a smile that wasn't fooling any of them.

Janus raised an eyebrow, "I can ask you the same question… been thinking about her?" He asked softly.

His dad let out an empty chuckle, shaking his head, "I always think about her… I never stopped… but yeah, I am.." he admitted, his barely-put-together cheerful persona falling away to reveal his sad and tired face.

He gestured weakly for Janus to sit next to him and they both stared at the picture in silence for a long moment. The three of them laughing and covered in mud on the floor.

Janus remembered that day, it was the day before the accident… it just finished raining and the sun was coming out of the clouds, making a beautiful rainbow. Janus' mom insisted they'll go out and take a picture with it so they rushed outside, his dad bringing their old camera and setting it up. They all posed but at the last second, Janus' dad slipped on the mud, making all three of them fall with him and they all burst into laughter right when the timer went down and the camera clicked.

Janus stared at himself in that picture, happy and healthy and… normal. Sometimes he forgets he ever was that… normal. His father's sigh broke him out of his thoughts.

"I should have been there…" he said quietly.

Janus held back his tears at the sound of his dad's regretful tone, "don't… it doesn't help anything… it just hurts you when you think like that… we can't change what happened."

"I know… I know you're right… but the feeling is still there… I yelled at her…" he trailed off with a sob, "my last moments with her were spent arguing over stupid things that don't matter… don't mean anything like you two mean to me…" he buried his face in his hands, taking shaky breaths. "What would she think of me now…"

Janus laid a hand on his father's trembling shoulders, "you're doing your best, she would love you for it… just like I do."

His dad relaxed back into the chair, leaning his head over his son's shoulder and relaxing slowly. "Thank you, son… that means a lot.."

They stayed that way for a long moment, before his dad lifted his head to look at Janus, "and why are you up?"

Janus sighed, he was hoping to avoid this question… "just thoughts… won't stop pestering me, ya know?" He tried but it was clear his dad wasn't buying it.

He took a deep breath, "...I went to Virgil's the other day…" he started. He never actually told his dad what happened between them, but the man was smart enough and knew him well enough to have a pretty good guess of the reason behind Virgil's sudden disappearance. "...and now I can't stop thinking about him again.." he admitted.

His father nodded in understanding, "I see… you never really told what happened between you two." He said carefully.

Normally, Janus would brush off the question, but his dad seems to need a distraction like this right now and it's not like it's some big secret… he can't stop thinking about it now anyway so might as well tell someone.

So, Janus took a deep breath, "there's not much to tell, really… one day he just stopped answering my texts… he stopped being in our usual meeting stops… then, a week or so later… I see him hanging with the popular group at our school. Not even meeting my eyes… I just can't stop wondering what I could have possibly done or said that drove him away like that… was he only my friend because he thought I was his only choice?"

Janus didn't realize he was crying until his dad reached out and wiped the tears from his cheeks, "I'm sorry son, that's awful." He hugged him gently.

Janus sniffed and sighed, "I probably deserved it…" he said quietly.

His dad pulled away to look him in the eyes, "no, you didn't, what Virgil did was not okay, you hear me?" He said firmly.

Janus nodded weakly and his dad gave him a comforting smile. "Come on, we both need to go to bed."

And they each got up and went to their rooms to try and get some sleep before the sun came up.

…

He woke up to his phone ringing.

Frowning, he pulled the phone off the charger and looked to see who was calling him.

He almost dropped his phone when he saw it was Roman of all people. Does it have something to do with their project? But it's sunday, couldn't that wait until they see each other at school on monday?

Mind racing, he nervously answered and put the phone to his ear, "hello?"

Silence.

"Roman?"

"...are you okay?"

Janus frowned, looking at the clock, "you woke me up at 8 in the morning on sunday just to ask me that?"

"Sorry I just felt really bad over what happened at Virgil's and I just had to see how you were doing…"

Janus was glad it was a phone call and that Roman couldn't see his blush, "w-what do you have to feel bad about? It's between me and Virg-"

"I know but I knew you had a history and I still convinced you to go and I'm so sorry, I didn't think it would be so painful for you…"

Roman started bubbling as Janus just sat there, stunned, "...you… blame yourself on yesterday?" He asked suddenly, making Roman stop.

"Um… yes? I guess it's kinda dumb huh?" He heard Roman chuckle awkwardly.

"No it's… actually sweet…" Janus thought to himself with heated cheeks.

"What?"

Janus suddenly realized he said it out loud and hung up immediately, heart racing. What the fuck is he doing?

He waited anxiously to see if Roman would call again, but when nothing happened, he sighed in relief and went downstairs to start on making breakfast for him and his dad.

…

"Someone is up early, it smells amazing here." His father greeted him a few hours later as he walked into the kitchen, "can I help with anything?"

Janus turned from the pan on the stove to raise an eyebrow at his dad, "last time you 'helped' I almost had to call the fire department."

"Hey! That was not my fault! The instructions were very confusing!" His dad protested with a grin.

Janus just shook his head with a smile and turned back to the pancakes he was in the middle of making.

They were just about to sit down to eat when a knock was heard from the door.

With a sigh, Janus grubbed his cane and went to answer it.

He was feeling strangely better today. He never imagined telling his dad what happened would make much of a difference but… it really did. It still hurt, but it was more dull than before… weird.

He opened the door and nearly dropped his cane when he saw who it was.

"Um… hey…" said Virgil awkwardly, "c-can we talk?"

[thedisablednaturalist]

so sorry ppl that cant read are sending you messages about those posts but i get it completely. rheumatologists and osteos and NP's want to hear more abt my decade old severe anxiety and depression and adhd and ~more~ diagnoses than chronic debilitating pain and just slap vitamin D pills on it and throw up their hands because "test results are weird idk what to tell u even tho i said it was this two weeks ago". abled friends and coworkers can have conversations about their mental health struggles but its looked at self pityingly if i bring up how my life is irreparably damaged by my physical disability because disabled people have to be strong and resilient to earn a place in their field and if you cant cut it just get on those snazzy disability benefits and let it get worse. i think a lot of abled ND people just cant accept that they do not experience the worst of life's struggles and that solidarity doesnt make us the same

I try to be understanding and answer peoples questions politely when I have the spoons and if they are genuinely confused bc I used to be ignorant as well about a lot of aspects of physical disability but it gets so tiring. Nowadays there are a ton of resources from physically disabled people talking about their experiences its actually quite easy to educate yourself on our struggles. Like sorry I get a little frustrated and rude when I'm constantly bombarded by ableism and rude ass people.

Also yeah that's exactly what I've been trying to say. Doctors can usually relate to people having mental health struggles and even some aspects of neurodivergencey. But they cannot understand someone looking completely fine and not being able to detect anything but complaining of horrible pain and constant tiredness outside of the lense of mental health. And if your mental health is managed or only suffering because you are in constant pain, they say you're faking, or OBVIOUSLY you just need to lose weight, or drink more water, or exercise more than any able bodied person does. People take one look at me and think the solution is obvious and I'm just too stupid or lazy to figure it out.

And me saying this isn't saying that mental illness is super easy to deal with. Its fucking awful as well and many doctors say this shit to neurodivergents as well. And this is especially true for poc and people with psychosis or bipolar disorder or schizophrenia.

I went to my first therapist in my sophomore year of highschool and got medicated that same year. I started investigating my health issues in college freshman year and have JUST gotten actual results from treatment. SIX fucking years later. SIX fucking years of CONSTANT PAIN. And I have great insurance and a great dad who just wants me to feel better (my mom is a different story). My parents are sort of upper middle class and I live in a very privileged area. Of course that means I can't afford to move out even with an ok salary, but at least there are plenty of doctors around to choose from and plenty of appointments available. I can't imagine how long it takes someone without those advantages. And even still I had to fight to be listened to, I had to listen to so much bs from doctors and had to go from doctor to doctor begging for someone to listen.

Like they really don't get how unbelievably hard it is to get care for physical disabilities, visible and invisible. If you're visibly disabled you get treated like a child and a monster and you're isolated from society. If you're invisibly disabled you get laughed at by doctors and ignored. If it's hard for you guys imagine that difficulty increased by 100%.

I try to be really visible when I'm working in a position I know has my back. I really try to educate young people and children on what my disability looks like and I hope disabled kids and kids who eventually become disabled can see me and know that their lives are valuable and they are valuable. And it is possible to find joy in your life and reasons to keep living. And employers shouldn't be able to throw away our resumes and pay us less just cause we may need a little extra help. I know what everyone thinks when they see me in my wheelchair and using my walking sticks and when I tell them I need to take a break as I'm running out of spoons. I know their first thought is what the hell am I doing here if I'm in so much pain? When people see me by myself in my wheelchair they think I must have gotten lost and separated from my abled handler. I love my job, I love what I do, and I want to be able to keep doing it. But I can't work as long as an abled person, I can't do it without accommodations. Hell abled people shouldn't be working as long as they do either. I wish to live a life where I'm free to do the work I love without killing myself and still be able to live a comfortable life. Every disabled person, working or not, deserves to live a comfortable life.

[wildernezz]

PLEASE LISTEN TO 13 THE MUSICAL PLEASE

okay so there's this musical called 13 that i have an emotional attachment to specifically bc it was the first musical i ever performed but it's honestly such a silly goofy musical and i absolutely need it to get more attention.

im just gonna rattle off some things about the musical please stick with me i swear it's silly pleaseplease

plot overview: Evan Goldman, a 12 year old boy who's just about to turn 13. he's just moved from New York to Indiana because of his parent's divorce and he's set on becoming popular in order to make sure his bar mitzvah isn't lame. he ends up meeting a bunch of new people and causing a bunch of chaos and i have no idea how to explain the rest of it other than "average middle school drama" but i swear it's good in the "wow this is so stupid i love it" way.

musicals it's pretty similar to: Be More Chill, Dear Evan Hansen (except without the weird "pretending to be a dead kid's best friend" stuff), Heathers (again, without the killing bits)

other things to note before getting into it (basically my thoughts and me explaining what versions to avoid): DO NOT WATCH THE NETFLIX VERSION. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT WATCH THE NETFLIX VERSION. i also haven't found many bootlegs of the musical on YouTube that were good (honestly the cast i was with when we performed it were my favorite but i'm pretty biased and there's no public recordings of it anyways), so i'd recommend just listening to the soundtrack on Spotify. SPECIFICALLY LISTEN TO THE ORIGINAL BROADWAY RECORDING THO, THE OTHER ONE IS MID IN MY OPINION SO I WOULDN'T RECOMMEND IT.

some other things to try convince u plsplsplspls: THE SHOW HAS A LOTTA OFF-HAND KINDA OFFENSIVE HUMOR SO KEEP THAT IN MIND. IT'S A LITTLE SOUTH PARK-Y IN A WAY BUT I'M NOT SURE HOW EXACTLY TO DESCRIBE IT?? THE BEST EXAMPLE I CAN GIVE IS THAT THERE'S A WHOLE SONG CALLED "TERMINAL ILLNESS" WHERE EVAN JUST CONVINCES THIS ONE KID TO EXPLOIT HIS DISABILITY INTO GETTING THEM SOMETHING THEY BOTH WANT. SO LIKE JUST KEEP THAT IN MIND.

other than that though, the characters are really silly. like they're all super weird, awkward, and goofy because of the fact that they're all young teens and even though some of it gives second-hand embarrassment, i feel like the fact that they're just silly little kids is what makes them all so lovable. there's also a bunch of songs that do kind of hit hard in the "wow i remember feeling that way and i still kinda do feel like that damn" which i think just adds to the charm. "Good Enough" is definitely one of those songs imo, but listen to the full soundtrack first before just skipping to it i swear it hits hard with an emotional attachment first.

also uh ariana grande was in it or sumn. she didn't even have a major role tho which is funny. and you can tell that at the very end the writers were like "FUCK WE GOTTA EXPLOIT HER TALENT" and let her riff for the entire ending song which i think is funny LMAO.

i've got no idea what else to put here just please listen to them i swear theyre silly guys please.

[busterheadspace]

Part 2 of Traitor Brett

Yeah. This might be a series now. Heads up, lots of emotional damage!

—-

Glenn had found her while trying to find something. By some miracle, her body manages to stay alive until someone came. The medics had brought her into the infirmary and treated her injuries the best they could. Her side was stitched and bandaged along with a fractured hand that would heal.

However, the numb feelings of her legs were permanent.

“Sorry Reagan . But when you slammed into the wall, your spinal cord got damaged. We can’t fix that unfortunately”

She was bound to a wheelchair for her whole life now. The team had asked what happened and where Brett was. But she couldn’t answer.

What made things worse? Her dad was the CEO now. She was released just as the Robes wanted to talk. Bringing the model Cognito to the office, she expected a promotion. However, the Robes stated she wasn’t fit. Especially now that she is disable. She saw her dad’s face through the Hologram and her heart dropped. His eyes widened at the state she was in. Before he could say anything, she wheeled herself as fast as she could.

Now here she was in her lab, staring at the bloody hole in the wall. She didn’t want anyone to see the emotional state she was in. The discovery of Orrin, her dad being CEO after just kicking him out.. Brett’s Betrayal.. that was replaying in her mind.

The door opened and Reagan didn’t bother turning around. She felt a hand on her shoulder and flinched, slapping it away.

“Reagan.. girl. ” Gigi said sadly. “Let’s get you out of here. The construction team will fix that up. Alright?“ No response. Gigi grabs the handles of her whrelchair and begins moving.

“How about we get some coffee and talk ? I know I’m not usually the comfort person but Brett-“

“Stop” Reagan mumbled. "Don't.. say anything about that fucking bastard."

That surprised Gigi. Usually Reagan would only say good things about Brett. But cursing and refusing to say anything about him.. something must have happened.

They sat at a table at Cognito's cage. and Gigi ordered them coffee. It was an awkward silence between the two as Reagan just stared at it.

"What happened last night?" Gigi started.

"I got attacked.. that's it.." Reagan replies numbly.

"How? There was no one in the building other than you and.. Wait.. Did Brett attack you?!"

A nod as a respond. Reagan's hands grip her chair as a wave of emotions hit her.  She wasn't going to cry. Not again

"Why did he attack you?" Gigi was shocked. Brett of all people to hurt someone? His best friend?

"Brett.. was.. -he was sent by.. the Illuminati to steal my blueprints and robot .. why it took him months and..why.. he tried..befriending us.. I have no idea.." Reagan explained. A tear escape but she wiped it quickly.

"He shot.. me into the wall.. and I couldn't move.. God.. I yelled at him and.. he was saying how the.. Illuminati was his.. family.. what did we mean to him..?" She covered her face as more tears ran down her face.

"Maybe I should have…done something.. I.. could.. hugged him..or like.. talk to him. Anything.. Fuck.. I don’t.. care about the stupid blueprints.. I just want.. him back. I want., my stupid.. lovable Brett back.”

She was crying now. She could feel the stares but she couldn’t care. She was heartbroken and terrified. This was the worst day of her life. Arms wrap around her as she sobs.

“That son a bitch..” Gigi mumbled. “If I see Brett, I’ll beat his ass..” All Gigi could think about was how she was going to leak anything that would ruin Brett.

But right now.. she has to help the depressed scientist. She’s seen many tragedies on every social media and whatever they leave the person alone. They spiral deeper and deeper until they can’t take it and do something terrible.

“Let’s get you some food, alright? I’m sure you haven’t eaten much these past days.”

Reagan shakes her head, making Gigi sigh. This was going to be hard

[mrs-gucci]

Mr. Handsy {Clyde Logan x wife!Reader}

@icarusinthesea :

Okay, okay. I think I've thought of something. Eh, it's a mediocre idea, but it does it for me. Fighting with Clyde followed by sweet, hot, nasty make up sex. I can not think of anything else. But whatever you write I'll love. 🥰

author’s notes: hello, hello! writers block has been hitting HARDCORE as of late, which is kind of a bummer, but luckily I’m feeling a bit better now! @icarusinthesea​ thank you for this request!! I hope it was worth the (very long) wait, and I send love to you, friend <3 <3

warnings: fluff. smut. club brawls. violence against an asshole. protectiveness. dom!Clyde. oral sex (m receiving). rough sex. unprotected sex/creampie.

(possible) tw’s: non-con touching (not by Clyde). physical conflict. sex in a public restroom.

word count: 1.9k

my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie @einmal-im-traum @charliesahottie​ @gotham-city-uber-driver​ @gildedstarlight​ @slytheriin2002 clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings​ @icarusinthesea​ @lumdelacour​ @readingreaver​ @eagerforhoney​ @trubluepensfan​ @beachwoodmonet​ if you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, the sign up is linked here and can also be found in my description :)

You had a bad feeling about this place from the very beginning, from the moment you stepped into this stupid sleazy club for your co-worker’s birthday.

Clyde decided to tag along, mainly to hang out with the other poor guys whose wives dragged them along tonight.

The bass pulses your eardrums as you make your way over to the booth that they’d claimed, saying some very loud ‘hi’s’ and ‘hello’s’ to everyone before taking a seat on Clyde’s lap.

Your outfit certainly matches the locale of tonight’s party, sexy and risqué while maintaining at least some coverage and dignity for your larger areas. Clyde’s been having some trouble keeping his eyes, and now that he can, his hands, off you.

His calloused flesh hand runs over your thigh and hip in a soothing manner, mindless in its movements over your exposed skin.

Soon, a good dancing song comes on and no matter how much you try to beg Clyde to join you on the crowded floor, he refuses, insisting that you go have some fun with your friends.

His eyes keep a close watch on you, knowing that unfortunately, it’s highly likely that some bonehead Joe will come along and think he can touch without permission.

He finds himself in a sort of entranced state, watching the way your hips move when you dance, watches your skin bounce and jiggle with each motion, sees the way the multicolored lights bounce off the sequins on your dress…

Sure enough, said bonehead Joe dances his way over to you, not-so-subtly checking you out from a bit of a distance before making his approach.

Clyde almost instantly leaps into action when his hand touches your hip and he slides in behind you. Thinking that the man behind you is Clyde, you start grinding against him a bit more, smirking.

But, only after a second or two, his motions and touch begin to feel awfully foreign. You’ve just truly begun to doubt your dancing partner’s identity when he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Keep dancing like this and I’ll just have to take you home, babygirl.”

Goosebumps form on your skin in disgust the moment you hear an unfamiliar voice, yanking away from his grubby grip.

“How dar—“

“Hey, you!”

Your eyes widen and you look around the man to see a very angry-looking Clyde storming his way over to where you’re standing.

He turns the handsy man around with a hand on his shoulder, then gives him a shove. “Can’t ya see she’s married, asshole? Don’t you ever think ya can just go ‘round here, touchin’ what ain’t yours.”

“Cly—“

“Don’t ya even start with me right now, Y/N. I can’t believe ya didn’t stop ‘im, can’t believe ye kept grindin’ against ‘im.”

Your eyes widen. “Clyde, p-please, it’s not like tha—“

“I thought I told ya t’ can it, Y/N.”

You shudder at his commanding and harsh tone, immediately backing down and biting your lip as the tears swell in your eyes.

The man wears a small smirk, giving Clyde an equally rough shove backwards. “And what, you’re telling me she’s yours? Bullshit she is. Who’d ever wanna marry a one-armed redneck like you?”

Big mistake. Clyde used to just stand down and shut off whenever someone made fun of his disability, but usually now, he just gets fucking pissed.

Sure enough, his jaw clenches and he quickly lunges at Mr. Handsy, forcefully knocking him to the scuffed dance floor. Often times, mostly due to his kind and gentle demeanor, you forget that Clyde’s a veteran. A special ops veteran, at that.

You can’t deny that bearing witness to his unbridled anger and dominance isn’t at least a little bit sexy, even if you do feel incredibly guilty about not realizing sooner that it wasn’t Clyde.

Like the coward he truly is, and that many men like him are, he flees the scene quickly when he looks up and sees the anger in Clyde’s eyes.

Meanwhile, you instantly rush up to him, apologizing repeatedly. “Clyde, I’m so sorry, I thought it was you and I didn’t mean to—“

He snatches your wrist, bending down so that his hot, slightly strained breath wafts across your face. “You’d better yer slutty ass into the restroom right fuckin’ now.” He growls, letting you go.

You nod, whimpering under your breath as you scurry off into the bathroom.

He follows after you, pushing you into the single stall before reaching around to lock the door.

“Clyde, please, I’m so sorry. I promise that I didn’t know it wasn’t you until he spoke and I pulled away right after that. I would never…”

He holds a hand up and you trail off, then crosses it back over his chest along with the other. When you look up at him, ready to apologize further, he gives you a subtle head shake and a faint smile.

“Get m’ cock out.”

You know, then, that he’s not mad, and you know exactly what he wants from you. You step up to him with a small smirk and pop the button on his Levi’s, pulling the zipper down before reaching in to fish out his half-hard length.

“Now stroke it. You know how I like it.”

Your hand holds a steady grip around the protrusion, starting off slow but quickening randomly, just as he likes it.

His head tilts back onto the cheap tiled wall, nostrils flaring as he exhales shakily. “Thaaaaat’s m’ girl, just like that.”

You speed up just a bit, focusing your pressure and ministrations on the upper half of his shaft, moving the little bit of excess skin up and down his shiny pink head.

“Mmmmffhhh.” He groans through pursed lips, hips rutting forward into your touch.

Suddenly, he pushes your hand away, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to cope with the sudden loss of stimulation on his pulsing arousal.

“Knees.”

You get onto your knees, using his shoes as cushioning.

“Mouth open.”

Your jaw falls open and he wastes no time in moving himself into proper position, sheathing himself fully in your mouth.

“Ghhhohhh, s-shit.”

You’re choking right off the bat, shoulders shaking with each violent cough.

“Yeah, take it. Gon’ make ye choke on me, shove m’ cock down yer lil throat ‘till ya can’t breathe no more.”

You somehow manage to moan around him in between your gags and coughs, lungs panicked for the rough cutoff of airflow by Clyde’s length. Tears begin to swell in your eyes, soon running down your cheeks.

His eyebrows are tightly knitted in the center of his forehead, skin glistening with the beginnings of sweat as his hips rut into your cavern even quicker and rougher now.

Clyde has to physically pull himself away from your mouth, shuddering as his cock bobs and throbs angrily at the loss of friction. His hand splays out on the wall, chest heaving as he takes a moment to re-gain composure.

Then, he looks down at you, gaze sizzling your very skin.

“Up. Turn yerself ‘round n’ bend over, ass out n’ legs spread nicely.”

You put yourself into the position, wiggling your ass just a bit for play after pushing your jean shorts down, earning you a harsh smack across your newly-exposed skin. He smirks when you squeal softly, giving himself a few lazy strokes as he steps up behind you, lips instantly attacking your neck.

“Yer gon’ walk outta ‘ere with all o’ my marks on your neck, hickeys n’ bite marks. Maybe then everyone’ll understand who it is ya belong t’."

His chin digs into your shoulder, then he’s thrusting forward, filling you up and stretching you out to the max. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

“Ohhhhh.”

He groans into your ear, chin digging into your shoulder as he begins fucking you fast and hard. There’s nothing gentle or romantic about this union; it’s hunger and wanting, it’s pure carnal lust.

Tears quickly swell up in your eyes at the sweet pleasure currently surging through your body, tickling every nerve ending and igniting every pleasure center. 

It’s humid in the club, the bathroom no exception and already, a sheen of sweat has formed on the surface of your skin. Clyde’s good hand takes an even firmer hold on the meat of your hips, hips thrusting at an impossibly fast pace.

“G’damnit, wrapped ‘round m-me so tight, fffuck Y/N. Such a lil’ cccunt, love shovin’ m’ b-big cock in ya, ssssplittin’ ya right in half--christ.”

You love how his accent gets thicker and thicker at times like this, so much so that sometimes you can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. It’s adorable.

“Mmm, C-Clyde! Please baby, please mmmake me cum!”

His lips latch onto the side of your neck, sucking as hard as they possibly can while he reaches around to rub your clit with the cool metal digits of his prosthetic. 

Your hips instantly grind down on him, a shaky gasp leaving your lips. “Ohh god, mmmmmfffuck--right there! Yes, yes, Clyde!”

“Say y-yer mine.” He growls into your ear, panting. “Tell everyone who ya bbbelong to. Scream ma name w-when ya cum.”

“Y-Yours, all yours, Clyde. I’m yours!” You whimper. 

Clyde fucks you with everything he’s got, biting into your skin and sucking more of the flesh until you’re littered with marks. It’s not long before you’re tumbling over the edge, body trembling as you release all over his shaft with a shout of his name.

“Clyde! C-Clyde, fuck!”

Not long after you, Clyde falls over the edge, desperately rutting and fucking each drop of his hot load deep into your spasming cunt.

“Y/N, g’damnit...fuuuckin’ s-shit!”

Both of you are rendered breathless as you come down from your respective highs. His lips and tongue gently soothe the harsh bites and bruises that have been left behind in his wake. 

He sighs softly when he pulls out, helping you pull your shorts back up before tucking himself back into his pants. When you turn around, he crashes his lips into yours, hands resting gently on your hips. 

“‘m real sorry fer that, Y/N; dunno what got int’ me. I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”

You smile, cradling his face in your hands. “Clyde, there is no need to apologize or feel bad for that. You know if I was uncomfortable, I would’ve stopped you or said something. I loved it, more than I probably should have, and I love you.”

His lips tug up into a soft, lopsided smile, relief flooding across his expression.

“I love ya too, Y/N, so, so much. Thank ya fer puttin’ up with me n’ bein’ mine.”

“No ‘thank you’ necessary, baby. I’m yours, always yours.”

Clyde grins, pulling you in for a hug as he repeats your words out loud.

“All mine.”

[sanguine-tenshi]

I just finished Inazuma and I have words

TL;DR: Hate the story, mixed on characters, love the design and tired of being treated like a 4-year-old with a learning disability.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Let’s start with what I like.

Inazuma is absolutely beautiful. I’ll admit Inazuma hits a lot of aesthetic points for me. All the islands are different enough to feel unique but they still look like they are a part of the same land. There are a lot of secrets to discover through just exploring. Each island has a world quest to help it (make it less hostile towards you) so it very much feels like you are saving Inazuma from itself.

.

The puzzles are alright.

I like the cubes that rotate, I always put in the effort to figure them out properly.

Hate the ones that don’t rotate, they just aren’t engaging enough for me, so I just hit them at random and hope for the best.

The glowing floor tiles were fun, once you actually realized what they wanted you to do. A little bit too easy if I’m honest.

The electro compass isn’t really much of a puzzle, more of a fetch the nearest electrograna quest.

Those little pillars that require an electro connection are kinda boring to me, again not much of a puzzle, the hardest part is finding both pillars.

I love the new electro seelie, kinda hard to follow the jittery thing in certain parts but they make a nice contrast to the regular seelies.

.

I’m very much mixed on characters.

Yoimiya is adorable. She is so bright and bubbly. What little game play we had with her was fun and I love her over the top style of fighting. Kinda disappointed she’s another pyro archer but I do admit it fits her character well. It was also wonderful seeing her just settle down and be quiet, just be a part of that moment that obviously meant a lot to her. It’s always nice to see that bubbly, energetic character have that one quiet thing, ya know. Kinda funny it’s fireworks, of all things, for her.

Gorou I like, from what little we’ve seen of him. My man killed a dude with his thighs so I’m down. I do find it kinda ridiculous that a resistance general has his whole damn belly exposed. There is also something about his voice that just does not fit. I cannot for the life of me put my finger on what exactly it is. Could be the tone itself, could be just voice acting. It sort of feels like the VA is trying to sound deeper than he actually does.

Sangonomiya Kokomi, mixed. I like her design, she looks like some sort of mystical priestess. Again something about the voice is jarring. I expected her to sound sort of airy, like she isn’t 100% present, like she’s seeing something we can’t. TBH she reminds me of Luna from HP for some reason. 

Yae Miko, I was interested because of her design. She sounds very arrogant and up her own ass, which would have been fine...if she hadn’t given us that god-awful line. “...I have high hopes for you, child. Don’t disappoint me.” Dear lord I wanted to punt her off the mountain. Or fucking what! Also she’s some bigshot priestess of the Sacred Sakura and yet she can’t do her damn job properly. Why couldn’t her arrogant ass come down from her high perch and cleanse the stupid roots? Why did the traveler have to do that shit?

Baal looks dead inside. Booba sword is overrated, get a life. I want a remach! And no cutscene shenanigans this time!

Kujou Sara seems like one of those ‘honor above all else’ characters. Those are either hit or miss with me. You have my attention for now. Also what are those shoes woman?! I’d rather you wear those leg-killing, needle point stilettoes instead of those Wish gag shoes. How in the name of all that is holy can you run in those?!

Thoma, I like him. At first I thought we were gonna get another Childe incident, but Thoma is too much of a innocent puppy to pull anything that horrible. To me he fits a fox a lot better than Childe does. Childe is a dingo and I stand behind that.

Kamisato Ayaka...hate her. At first I was neutral on her. Nothing about her design really spoke to me, but I was willing to wait and see. But then miHoYo started to violently push her friendship at us. We are totally friends now, this is the first time you see my face, but we are so totally friends now. And during her story quest everyone was like “Ah, you are so good Ayaka. You are so nice Ayaka. You are so perfect Ayaka. We all love you so much Ayaka. And oh, how could a mere merchant like myself...” Ew, go away. This is the first time I’m actively not pulling on a character banner. Normally I pull even if I’m not particularly interested in a character, because you never know how good their gameplay is until you take them out in the map. But I think I’ll be skipping this one. No thanks.

.

And now, the worst part, the story.

We’ve been hearing about the situation in Inazuma for a long time. There has been also a lot of talk about how hard it is to get there. About the wall of thunderclouds that surround the islands. So to have it cut to black and then voila Inazuma, feel just so cheap.

I was expecting something. An animation. A struggle. A quest. A minigame. At least show us the horrible weather! Something! Anything!

Hell if they wanted to be assholes about it they could have made it so that if the player fails at this point the ship is damaged, you return to Liyue and have to wait until tomorrow for the ship to be repaired. No Inazuma for today. That sure as hell would have raised the stakes.

The next complaint I have is with Yurika, the 2 milion mora processing fee girl. Later on Thoma mentions that the agency people see the fees as easy money, so her attitude doesn’t make much sense. After all someone like her would want to extract as much money as she can, but you still want the people to be able to pay that.

So it would make more sense to me if she was overly friendly and asked way too many questions. She’d need to get a much information as she can and after all the previous hostility people would be very open with her. So she’d be able to quickly find out why someone is here, what they are selling and roughly how much money they’d be able to pay. A merchant selling expensive silk would have more many than a regular ore merchant. So she’d be able to extract as much money as she could.

“I know this is a lot of money, especially for something so simple, but there is nothing I can do about it. I’m so very sorry.” And people wouldn’t say anything bad to her because she’s the first friendly face they see in Inazuma.

The stealth mission was just god-awful and I hope we never have to do that nonsense again.

Getting off of Ritou was a bit janky at the end, Chisato should have had a better reason for coming along. But I’m honestly just glad we didn’t get out the usual way...getting stuffed in a crate and smuggled out.

As a side note, I’m getting really tired of characters overexplaining things to me, especially Paimon. Dear lord, not everything has to be said, you can leave me to come to my own conclusions and solutions. Just please, who cares if a few player struggle for a bit, you don’t have to hold my hand through the whole thing.

Ayaka’s three were...ugh. It was basic emotional manipulation. Oh no this guy forgot about the love of his life and he’s been waiting for decades. And oh how sad this guy was so good and he helped these people so much but now he can’t remember. And oh the tragedy this guy forgot his life goal and is now hunted by the demons of the past. Oh the humanity! 

And it did not work. Know why? Because I have no emotional investment in any of these people, in this land. What is happening to the vision bearers in Inazuma is tragic, true, but that doesn’t make me want to overthrow the government. I don’t live here. I just got here. I wanna ask a question or two and then move on. None of this concerns me.

I was so happy when the traveler just flat out refused to start a revolution. And then we had to go and meet some people and immediately I knew this was going to be some oh noes the tragedy moments and then we would agree to help them.

It’s so forced.

Wanna know what would have been better?

Just as we are leaving the Kamisato estate Thoma catches up with us. And he tells us he gets it. We are an outsider and this doesn’t concern us. He was hopeful but he expected the denial. We shouldn’t hold it against Ayaka.

He joins us as a guide because he knows of the people we have to meet.

And so as we help these three we also get to know Thoma. We find out he was an outsider too. He got in just before the worst of it started and then he was stuck in Inazuma. He lost someone to the Vision Hunt. They slowly lost their mind after loosing their vision, their ambition too closely tied to their personality to continue without it (what is happening to Domon hits a little too close to home and he has to walk away, this is where we hear the story of the one he lost). And the same would have happened to him if the Kamisatos hadn't taken him in. He owes them his vision, his sanity and his life.

So this rebellion is personal for him.

At the end of the three wishes the atmosphere is somber. We tell him we understand why Ayaka fights, why he fights. We know that this is all wrong, that it should be stopped...but not by us. We came here to get a lead on our brother. And rebellion isn’t an overnight affaire and we can’t loose so much time in Inazuma.

And yeah, he expected as much. He just asks that we let Ayaka down gently. It’d be a shame if someone as idealistic and hopeful as her lost their spark.

And so we are gentle but firm with Ayaka. She looks like she wants to argue with us but Thoma shakes his head at her. So she sighs and tells us that a promise is a promise. We should come to the Komore Teahouse in a few days and she’ll have a plan for us to meet with the Shogun.

Now we can still have a character story quest with Yoimiya and we can still somehow get involved with helping Master Masakatsu, but it’s through Yoimiya instead of Ayaka.

And instead of a character story quest with Ayaka we have one with Thoma. Hell, give him a whole damn hangout event even.

You can probably guess why I’m pushing the friendship with Thoma so much.

Because. He. Gets. Kidnapped. For. The. 100th. Vision. Ceremony. 

And that would have been the perfect emotional in to get us involved in the rebellion. After all we just saw what happens to people who have their visions taken away and we are not letting that happen to Thoma, someone we just got close to.

So Baal makes it personal for us as well.

.

I have a few more minor complaints.

Aoi is stupid for asking for compensation after she tells us everything we needed to know because, ya know, we could have just walked away. We should have.

The whole stupid misunderstanding about the value Kurosawa’s sword holds. Kinda obvious he meant emotional value instead of monetary.

The suspicious amount of visionless NPCs and by that I mean this is the first time we have NPCs with vision. This wouldn’t have been a problem if we’ve seen NPCs with visions in Mond and Liyue.

The whole rebellion camp bit feels incredibly rushed. We just sort of lollygag over there and then there is a fight (against Sara and her stupid shoes).

Don’t make us fight Baal just to force us to lose. It would have been better if we were forced to retreat, because Thoma was injured, because there are too many soldiers for us to handle on our own. Hell, you can have a funny scene where we straight up jump off a cliff with Thoma clinging onto us and screaming bloody murder until he realizes we are slowly gliding away and he’s not about to plummet to his death.

The Sakura cleansing quest should have been voice acted.

The Mirror Maiden and Pyro Agent are totally on a date, I will not be told otherwise.

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | part 4

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: chronic illness, hurt/comfort, drug use**! spencer and reader smoke weed together; talks of relapse and recovery. Also, a case involving child abductions, getting engaged, love confessions

word count: 2.4k

a/n: not sure how long this is going to keep getting but I am enjoying adding to it

P1 P2 P3

Days like today suck.

She can’t get out of bed, she’s so hungry her stomach is swirling and screaming and there’s a pain in her intestines that feels like someone is eating her from the inside out but she can’t move… and she has to pee but her legs hurt and her head is pounding from the light. It’s 6 am according to the alarm clock, Spencer hasn’t left for work yet and she’s already missing him.

She manages to make it to the bathroom, sitting there for too long after because she can’t find the courage to stand back up.

“Why?” She whispers to herself before the tears start.

Covering her face as she cries, she’s still sitting on the toilet with her underwear around her ankles, sobbing as Spencer walks in.

He helps her up without asking, he’s seen too many bad mornings now to ask if she needs help, he just knows she wants to go back to bed, so he fixes her underwear and picks her up.

When he finally lays her down with all her pillows, he lowers the temperature in the room to relax her bones and gets her a ginger ale to help with the nausea from the pain she’s in. It is a regular occurrence for her to wake up and feel like she’s dying, but Spencer was wonderful when dealing with it.

He’s in the kitchen for a while, she’s worried he’s making something for her to eat that she’ll have to lovingly turn away because she can’t do it right now. Her throat is too tight and it hurts to swallow or talk.

She can hear him talking… he’s on the phone with someone.

When he comes back in, he cuddles into her the way he knows she likes. Soothing his hands over her back in a way that helps the pain while also helping her feel like she’s not alone in all of this. He’ll never understand; but he loves her, so a part of him feels it too.

“You called out?” She whispers against his chest.

He nods, his cheek resting on the top of her head as she feels the friction. “I don’t feel good when you don’t feel good.”

“I’m sorry you had to help.”

He’s told her time and time again that he doesn’t mind.

He would kill for her, he’d clean up the mess if she killed someone. He’d even dig the fucking grave if she needed him too… he wasn’t opposed to being there for her no matter what that entailed.

She just hated the fact he had to, he knew her apology came from her hatred of herself and not the fact she felt sorry for him. She loved the help, it made her feel loved until she felt disappointed in herself for needing it.

“Do you want your medicine?”

She smiles finally, “if you mean my secret joint stash— yes, but if you can’t handle being around me like that, then I don’t need it today.”

“I think I’d like to try it,” Spencer whispers. “If you can smoke weed and not relapse then I think I can too?”

“Probably, but if you can’t, I’ll support you however you need me to?” She smiles up at him, he kisses the tip of her nose as she kisses his chin.

Getting high with Spencer is… interesting to say the least. He doesn’t want a full hit, he just wants a taste and so she takes a drag and blows the smoke from her lungs to his. Sharing a part of themselves in a way they never expected before, this is his most vulnerable moment and he was trusting her with it.

The sunshine hits his face in such a perfect way that as they lay side by side, she can watch his pupil devour his iris as he gets high. Their breathing is steady and their fingers are interlocked. They’re content just blinking together, in the sunshine, quiet. In love.

Her body is so calm, and her mind is slow as she takes it all in and he looks so relaxed. He’s not jittery or caffeine-deprived like most mornings; he’s not anxious or stressed or trying to find a way to pretend he’s fine before leaving for work again, only to come home sad.

He’s okay.

She’s okay.

“It's nice,” he whispers, “but it’s not as good as you.”

She smiles, trying not to laugh at how his thoughts are going to be all jumbled for the next few hours. He’s going to be smart yet stupid at the same time and she couldn’t fucking wait to hear all the things he thinks of.

“I know what you mean,” she agrees.

“This is like a tidal wave..." his ramble starts and she is so excited to see where it takes them. "A tsunami that rushes and relieves just as quickly." His eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy.

"You’re like a volcano; there are so many stages before mass destruction, and even then there’s still the ash cloud and the debris and the lava dries like rocks… the destruction is total and the cleanup will be brutal.”

“I’m addicted to you," his eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy. "Drugs are boring and you’re not,” Simplifying his meaning as his eyes open again.

“I love you,” he says with the same certainty as the first time.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she didn’t think they’d go down this path when she was blowing into his mouth, she expected him to panic or get horny.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really told you how much.”

He shakes his head lightly, “I wouldn’t be opposed to knowing.”

If she thinks it over, she’ll abandon ship before she can tell him, so she just jumps into it.

“I was a little scared to ask you to help me lock my door that first day because I thought you’d think I was just some junky who couldn’t get their shit together. But the second you asked if I had a local group and you helped me; that was the moment I knew I wanted you in my life for forever.”

He smiles, silent so she can keep going. He’ll take his turn when she’s really done.

“And then when we got to talking it was like I knew you already. Like I had your memories in my mind and as you told me things I was like well duh! Yeah, that’s my Spencer! I don’t know how it happened so fast. One minute you’re a stranger and the next you’re the only person I ever want to see for the rest of my entire fucking life,” it’s more passionate than she expected as she rambles on.

“I can’t get married on paper without losing my disability, but I don’t give a fuck about a piece of paper or someone officially giving us that title one day, I’m content just staying in this bed with you for the rest of time and never moving again.”

He looks like he’s about to explode with love as he presses his lips together in the softest smile. He can’t keep quiet any longer, “are you asking me to spend the rest of my life with you but not marry you?”

She laughs at the realization, “I think so?”

They’re trying to kiss but it ends up more like laughing with their mouths touching and teeth occasionally clashing. It’s hysterical because of the marijuana, sure, but they’re high on each other. It’s everything they’ve ever wanted.

To find something better than drugs; that little purpose in life comes back, that drive to see tomorrow because there are good memories to be made with their favourite person. She’s not afraid of the darkness or the unknowing anymore, Spencer’s her guiding light.

He's holding her close to his chest after a while, "are you feeling better?"

"Of course," she smiles, "I've got my weed and my reid."

His laugh is everything as it fills their space again. This was how the rest of her life was going to feel, and it made her excited for tomorrow.

—

She’s feeling a lot better later and they need Spencer to help Penelope back at work, but he doesn’t want to leave her. She’s in sweats with a blanket on her lap in the corner of Penelope’s office, a book in her hand and a coffee on the table beside her as she listens to them bicker back and forth.

“If you hack the NSA we can no longer use all this as evidence if he’s brought in alive, Penelope!” Spencer whisper shouts at her, afraid to raise his voice at her but wanting to get his point across.

“Hotch needs the aerial shots like yesterday, and the NSA won't get them to us in time for this kid!” She yells back.

“Call google…” Y/N suggests, flipping through her book.

“What?” Spencer looks at her like she just said the dumbest thing ever.

“They’re taking photos constantly for their maps program, my mom was saying our new roof is now on the updated map. They might have all the photos saved up, if the FBI asks nicely they might work with you…” she explains, pressing her lips together in a tight smile.

“You’re a genius!” Penelope shouts, dialling the phone and getting JJ to work his media magic for contact at google.

Spencer's smile is one she hasn’t seen before, he’s not only proud of her; he looks a little turned on. She just cracked the case by knowing all the little hacks about the internet as part of her day job. She lived online, and now she was saving lives because of it.

It was a good case to help on, she got to see 3 kids go home to their parents and know a terrible man was going to rot in prison for the rest of his sad and pathetic life. The hard part was seeing them go through months of footage of this guy's yard, seeing the child-sized holes he dug up. The disrupted earth and the knowledge of what happened when there wasn’t picture proof.

—

They go to a meeting after work.

They sit side by side, her leg is crossed and resting over his knee as their arms are linked and fingers interlocked. They really couldn’t be any closer if they tried. They just wanted to listen today, to know they were in a room of people who were trying, people who understood and battled every bad feeling they did.

“Y/N,” the group leader calls her out just before the end of the meeting, “it’s nice to see you back here with Spencer, we heard you found another group but it’s nice to see you here for the support.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but as you can see he is distracting.” She gestured to how they were sitting with a small giggle. “I like coming here if you guys don’t mind me occasionally dropping by?”

“By all means,” another member, carol, spoke up. “Spencer is a great sponsor, it’s nice to see him happy.”

She didn’t know he was a sponsor but he thanks her for the compliment, it turns out almost everyone in his group turned to Spencer for support. It was comforting to everyone there to know the real, chemical and biological reasoning behind their addictions. Spencer provided a sense of calm for all of them, like a younger brother; they all loved him dearly.

They’re still holding hands as they walk home, the sun is still setting and it's barely even 7 pm. All the lights on the street are on, shops are closing and the sidewalks are bare. One store is still open however, across the street, she can see the big storefront window, illuminated with the brightest lights to show off a new collection of rings.

“Do you want one?” He notices her eyes darting to the light like a moth to a flame.

“What?” She zones back in when he stops walking.

“A ring, do you want to get one?” He clarifies with the softest voice.

She nods softly, “you should get one too though, seeing as I asked you and everything.”

He grips her hand tighter and they dart across the street. Giggling like children running to the playground, they’re almost out of breath from laughing as they open the shop door with a ding. Smiles on their faces, joy in their hearts, it makes the shop owner swoon as she sees them.

“Did you just get engaged?” She pries with a knowing smile.

They nod, “we just need some rings,” Y/N adds.

She waves them over, “well I’m going to need our sizes first, here try these on.” She hands them what looks like a thin ruler with holes spaces out.

Y/N attempts to find the right one, fitting the best into the 9 and a half. Spencer fits into the 11 on the first try like he knew already and the woman just laughs at the way Y/N glares at him with love.

“What kind of rings are we thinking? Do you have a preferred cut, style, size, or colour?”

It’s a lot all at once and she’s never really thought about it, “I love my grandma's ring, do you have any vintage styles?”

“I have vintage-style rings as well as some restored rings from the '20s and '30s,” she brings out a jewellery box from under the counter. “These are all appraised and unique.”

When she takes the lid off, Y/N’s eyes widen at the view. There are at least 50 rings in their velvet beds as they wait patiently to be tried on; all different shapes sizes and colours like she said. It feels a little overwhelming at first but then her eyes land on a green one. She takes it out slowly and slides it over her ring finger.

It’s perfect.

Spencer picks out a nice gold band to match, he pays and the lady is so happy to watch them leave hand in hand with their new rings. Dedicated to each other forever and ever, he was her person for the rest of time because he said so and that’s as good as a piece of paper.

She’s a completely different person from who she was when she woke up; twirling down the street with the love of her life, high on loving him as he makes her laugh and holds her hand. He stops in the middle of the street and places his hands on her cheeks, drawing her in closer.

“Loving you is so much fun.”

“Ain’t it fun?” She agrees with a smile before pressing their lips together.

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