#disabled reader

[1-ker0sene-1]

Poly 141 x Reader

Home is where you are

"What ye think she made this time?"

Johnny mumbles, dropping his head back against the seat behind him. Blinking tiredly up at the ceiling of the truck, a daydream clear in his eyes. Simon next to him stares out the window, sweat seems to practically seal his balaclava to his face.

"We'd be lucky if anything. It's three in the fucking morning.."

Kyle says from the passenger seat. Pursing his lips a bit.

"She should be sleeping.."

Price chuckles from the driver's seat, hand on the steering wheel, paying close attention to the road.

"She knows we're on our way home. If she made something. We'll be thankful."

His other hand is resting on Kyle's knee, his thumb rubs slow circles against him.

Simons foot taps on the floor of the car silently, brows tight together. The man just wants to go home, shower, eat whatever heaven you cooked and sink into that california king mattress. With all of you, all five of you together.

"Steaks."

He mutters.

"Hm?"

Johnny questions with a hum, Simon clarifies.

"On days we come home.. it's either steak or shepherds pie. She made shepherds pie last time so it's gonna be steak."

They all salivate at the damn thought.

"It's tha little things with ye huh Simon?"

Johnny smiles warmly, leaning on his shoulder.

It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are. Filing out of the truck, bags over their shoulders. Covered in grime and dried blood, they didn't even let themselves clean up at base before going home to you. Walking forward, Simon slings an arm around Kyle's shoulder. Tucking the sargeant into his side as they walk to the house. Both Johns walking behind them, Price giving the younger a good slap on the back.

"Home, boys. Let's enjoy it while we can."

Price comes forward to unlock the front door, pushing it open for the four of them. Mumbling out a reminder to take off their shoes inside. Leaning down with a grunt to pull off his boots. The others doing the same. They can already smell what you're cooking, Simon was right. The smell of steaks is pretty clear, garlic butter, some kind of steamed vegetables and spices.

The house is clean. Warm. Low lighting, some candles lit. Everything about it screams home. John opens his mouth to call out for you, but he can feel his spine practically melt hearing you hum in the kitchen.

Johnny is the first stumbling forward, hopping on one leg as he throws off his remaining shoe. Eager to get back to you. Grinning as he comes around the corner into the kitchen. He melts. Seeing you there, in your chair dishing up their plates of dinner.

".. Hey lass.."

He mumbles, feeling like all the air left his chest.

You turn your head when you hear him, the brightest smile spreads across your face. Tossing the fork down from your hand as you turn towards him.

"Hey soldier-"

You beam. You don't even get another word in before Johnny rushes towards you, you let out a puff of air as he crashes into you. Laughing against him as he squeezes you to his chest, his face buried in your hair.

"Fuckin' missed ye hen.."

He whispers. You return with one of your own.

"I know baby.. I missed you too.."

You lift your head, kissing the scar on his chin.

"This bloke botherin' you love?"

You already know that voice immediately, smiling as you turn to look at Kyle. Who is quick at your side with Johnny, his hand cups the back of your head. Pressing a long kiss to your cheek. Taking a deep inhale of your scent through his nose. You smile warmly, your hand finds his bicep, giving a soft squeeze.

"There you are Kyle.."

You murmur, turning your head to press your own kisses across the bridge of his nose.

"Always here."

He chirps, kissing on your skin. His eyes bore into you, drinking you up. Johnny huffs, mumbling something about stealing all your attention. Earning a small tug on his mowhawk from you.

"Alright you two- showers. The both of you. You need it-"

You chuckle, giving them both a hug. Giving Johnny one more kiss on the jaw. Letting Gaz get one more kiss on your face. Watching them head past you down the hall to the bathroom. Kissing on eachother, bumping into walls. You shake your head at them with a smile.

Eyes flicking back to the entrance. You find Simon staring at you, his shoulders slack and sinking. Eyes half lidded and tired. The rest of his face under the balaclava. Your eyes soften, holding out your hand to him.

"Oh Si.."

He takes the invitation. Coming over to you. He would tower over you in height. But instead he falls to one knee in front of your chair. Hands resting on the arm rests of your chair. Your hands immediately cradle his head. Leaning forward to press your head to his.

"You're home.. it's alright now .. no more Lieutenant.."

You whisper against him. Your fingertips lift the edge of the balaclava, pulling it over the nape of his neck. Over the back of his head, nails dragging soothingly up his scalp as you take the fabric away. Making him shiver in vulnerability. Putting his mask aside on the counter.

Seeing your Simons face eases the both of you, cupping his jaw and lifting his head.

"I know doll.. I know."

He mutters, you kiss his temple. Caressing his skin. Threading your fingers into his hair.

"Go shower with the boys sweetheart.. I'll be in there soon."

You coo at him. He chuckles deeply, kissing your head between your brows as he gets up. Bumping your foreheads together one more time before walking to the bathroom.

"You're not gonna say hello to me John?"

You joke, turning your head to watch said Captain. Who was holding his hat in hand, leaning against the wall watching you. He's been watching you the whole time.

"Just seein' you with our boys darlin'.."

Pushing away from the wall he walks over to you. His eyes full of exhaustion, longing, warmth. Tossing his hat on the counter behind you. He leans down, callous hands hold your cheeks. Bringing your lips to his.

He's not as sneaky as he thinks. You know of his little demand to the boys. He's the first to kiss you. Each time they come home.

You kiss him back feverishly, as much as you've been calm and steady for them. You missed your men like hell. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing them tightly, beginning to work on the knots of tension in them. Emitting a deep groan from John into your mouth. You smile against his lips, feeling the scratch off his beard.

"Everyone's alright?"

You whisper against him. He nods, his hands finding your hips. Slightly lifting you from your chair and towards himself.

"No one's broken. .. Kyle's a little stressed. Y'know how he is.."

You nod, eyes still closed, continuing to brush your lips together.

"And you?"

"Just tired.. But I'm home. That's what matters."

John mumbles, kissing you deep again. Dipping his tongue past your lips, a soft sigh slipping out of you. Arms pulling him closer.

"Taking good care of our boys John.. You always do.. Making sure you all come home to me again... Our strong Captain.."

You can feel him sinking at your praise. The older mans knees want to buckle at your voice.

"Let's get you in the shower baby.. Hm? Get you washed and relaxed.."

You mumble against him.

You yelp as your lifted into the air by his arms, laughing openly as he carries you like a bride. Burying his nose to the crook of your neck. Carrying you down the hall, to the bathroom door. Where you can already hear the chatter of the men in the shower waiting for the two of you. John is grumbling against your skin.

"We need you darlin'. "

"Our boys and I need you bad.."

[rosiescrypt]

Doctor's Visit | Implied Harvey [Stardew Valley x Reader]

Word Count: 847 Warnings: Mentions of fainting, no name used Pairing: Harvey x Disabled!Reader implied

A/N: Written in 2nd Person because I am cringe but I am free. This is not proof read at all.

Three, two, one. The way that you blacked out wasn’t too unexpected, it started happening a lot since you started to live in Pelican Town. It did come unexpectedly this time, well not really, but at this point you would like to pretend that you only passed out when you were up too late on the farm, or out in the mines, but you knew that wasn’t true. 

Waking up on a hospital bed was something you had became familiar with, but not something that you had let yourself grow accustomed to. The hum was the first thing you let yourself tune into, having been out a lot longer than you were used to since they had time to move you.

“Harvey,” You called out, your eyes landing on the doctor, who was only a few feet away, reorganizing a few things.

“You’re awake,” He said, his voice cheery as he turned to look over at you, but his eyes held a deep bout of worry. You didn’t let yourself think too much into the look in his eyes as he walked to be by your side as you sat up. “Easy does it,” He said, moving his hand to give you a small bit of help to sit up.

“I’m alright,” You assured him, your voice gentle as you took his hand to help you sit up all the way, letting your feet dangle over the side of the exam table you woke up on. You didn’t say anything about how you having been asleep up there was dangerous, there were only so many resources that this small town clinic could have.

Harvey’s brow furrowed as he looked at you, his arms crossing for just a second. His mouth opened and shut a few times, like he was planning how to speak, what to say to you as you sat there, looking at him expectantly. 

“You passed out in the town square,” He said after a moment. Like this was somehow going to convince you that you weren’t okay.

You couldn’t help the laugh that pushed past your lips, your head shaking gently. You knew he was telling the truth, you were there when it happened. The look of confusion that shot over Harvey’s face made you take a deep breath, clearing the laugh from your throat before speaking.

“I’m alright, I just,” You paused, thinking of how to say it. Your last job didn’t have the best health benefits, and then this one the only clinic was ran by the doctor before you. “I’m disabled.” 

That was how you decided to say it, it made it a lot easier than to explain all of that. 

“In your files-” Harvey started, but you promptly cut him off.

“I was unable to get a proper diagnosis before moving here,” You explained, trying not to let yourself get red in the face. You always had this small habit of second guessing yourself, why you couldn’t get a diagnosis, even when symptoms were right there. 

Harvey stayed quiet, taking a moment to process before moving to pick up a clipboard, jotting a few notes on there, you watched him, confused by the man’s actions. 

“What are you..” You asked, a small pause as you tried to move to see if you could read the clipboard. “Doing?” The final word came out of your lips as he set the clipboard back on the counter. 

“Making a note,” He said, walking over to you, pressing the back of his hand to your head, just to make sure everything seemed fine without making it too professional feeling.

You just nodded, you didn’t seem too bothered by it, you were used to that, the notes, the comments, the “What if you’re making it up?,” all the “What if it’s just in your heads?” So in your mind, Harvey was doing the same thing.

“I can recommend you to an out of town doctor, to see if they can help you,” He said, his eyes locked on yours. “Also, I do believe you need to take it easy with the physical strain you’re putting on your body until its figured out.”

You let those words settle in, the care in his voice, the way that he was taking you seriously, you couldn’t help the large smile that came over your lips.

“I will, thank you, Harvey,” You said, you did move to hop off the examination bed. “This means a lot.” 

To you this meant the world, the urge to hug the man was strong but you were fighting it off. It wouldn’t be too odd since how close knit the town was, how close you’d grown with him over the year.

“Of course, I care about you,” He said, his hand reaching to gently set on your shoulder, so you used this as a chance to push forwards to give him a hug. 

You then stepped back, both of you a bit red in the face before you said your goodbyes and headed out, back to your farm, a grin on your face.

[latenightdaydreams]

König x Disabled!Reader Head Canons

For the physically disabled lovelies 💗

Part 2

Completely gender neutral. All fluff🩷

Not all physical disabilities covered, if interested I can make a part 2.

At first König treats you like a delicate little flower

Slowly understanding that he needs to stand back and wait for you to ask for help

He goes out of his way to learn about your disability and ways to support you

If you have gastric issues

He will prep meals you can eat and buys snacks that are safe for you

Makes you home made broths instead of the box or cans

Only the best for his Schatz

In his free time, he sits down and organizes your pills for you so you don’t have to worry

Organizes your braces to be easily accessible for you

Sees a cool cane on Etsy, buys it for you

König drives you to every doctor appointment, no matter how minor

He will go in and sit with you

König is your biggest advocator

He will speak up for you when you feel you can’t

Makes sure you get the best care

THAT YOU DESERVE

Keeps an extra asthma inhaler with him at all times

If your condition requires physical therapy

He learns what stretches or exercises your PT requires for you

Always encourages you and tells you how well you’re doing

"mein Schatz, you put the soldiers I train to shame." *head kisses*

(Even though all you did were 2 sets of donkey kicks and some clams)

Chronic pain?

He learns pain maintenance at home

Königs large strong hands gently massaging sore points of your body

Win-win for him because he loves to see you better and loves to touch you

“Don’t push yourself Schatz, what can I do for you?”

Always has extra pain patches, cream, and even CBD gummies on hand for you

“Heat or ice?”

Bed is covered in pillows for any support you’ll need

Stairs your biggest enemy?

König can carry you

And your wheelchair/walker/rollator

All the uppies

Does routine maintenance on your wheelchair for you

You sit there worried you aren’t good enough for König

All the while

König sits there wondering how he got so lucky to deserve you

[angelatsumu]

simon as your allistic husband

hello friends, i am autistic and i wanted a little allistic husband for my own comfort. this may be slightly unrelatable because autism is a spectrum and autistic people experience overwhelm and meltdowns differently. here is my interpretation of my experience (a very small picture of it).

cw: none, autistic reader x allistic!husband!simon riley<3, johnny is a bit overwhelming, overstimulating stimuli + potential meltdown

simon had always been your self-proclaimed protector. he was like a devotee the way he watched you, always keeping an eye on your mannerisms and responses. simon was on his knees before you with just one beck and call, and you knew this to be true in your heart of hearts. your lover, your beautiful simon, was privy to your disability and the way it could render you helpless with no regard for your plans for the day. in an effort to be an “adult”, you might overwork yourself directly into overstimulation or autistic burnout. if you had tried to mask well past your limits in social situations, you found yourself stimming in secretive but painful ways, and perhaps even losing all social awareness as a whole. you constantly cursed yourself for not getting a service dog to help you through these scenarios, but why would you when simon was at your side so quickly? simon knew you like the back of his hand, easily detecting the signs fo your withdrawal or teetering on the edge of insanity. Simon was so equipped to care for you, constantly studying your fidgeting and tone in any situation.

tonight was no different. Simon had asked if you felt comfortable with a small gathering of the Task Force after a bit of time apart, and you willfully agreed. you thoguht you’d checked all of the boxes to prepare yourself for the evening; you’d rested all day, gathered your stim toys and fidget rings, remembered to drink water (with several small reminders from simon), and you even ate an appropriate amount of foods to fuel you for social interaction. Simon was sure to allow you time to indulge your special interests and give you space without overwhelming stimuli. you’d felt pretty equipped for the night, especially since simon had ordered your comfort foods and even prepared a special nook incase you felt a bit overwhelmed. with earplugs in ears and a comfort outfit, you felt far more prepared with the help of your understanding lover. the overwhelming dread that usually accompanied social gatherings seemed to melt away with your anchor who was more than helpful in refilling your cup and taking care of you.

just as everyone was arriving, Simon was sure to dim the lights in the bedroom and set aside a bottle of water with your favorite stims to allow you a safe place. He hated to assume that you might approach metldown territory, but he’d learned that preparing for it is far better for you than simply hoping for the best. He’d taken the liberty of safety proofing the room, giving you a sensory swing and a cushioned corner to prevent you from harming yourself if the meltdown is to worsen beyond his control or interventions. He hummed as he made easy work of it, being sure to charge your headphones and queuing up a playlist you adored to allow you less work during a time of distress. goodness, he loved you so much. he loved doing this gentle and domestic work for you, and he loved the safety that came from his efforts.

it’s now well into the get-together, and Simon has you nestled into his chest. you find the smell of him grounding, and the compression of his arms squeezing around your torso makes you feel safe and comforted. your ears began to sting at the constant and overwhelming timbre of Johnny and Gaz’s bickering, seemingly infiltrating your brain and sowing seeds of hate. you’d tried to fidget with Simon’s dogtags or the hem of his shirt, but the constant booming of their voices had begun to sink its teeth into you. Simon was never loud, and he certainly never yelled in your vicinity without warning. your chest felt tight as you began to feel your clothes rubbing wrongly against your skin every time Simon had a hearty laugh at his coworkers. you squirmed in an attempt to regulate yourself, to move the painful energy you’d been harboring since your nervous system began to fray. the interaction was tiring, draining you of all your humanity as you had to pretend to be interested in the topic of conversation. your breathing shallowed, breaths quick and uneven as you tried your hardest to stave off the boiling under your skin. suddenly Simon’s skin against yours felt wrong, like your nerves were set aflame and stealing the little reserves of normality you’d been clinging to. you didn’t want this happen, you never did. you’d spend every waking moment post-meltdown crying and begging the skies above to “fix” you, to make you less susceptible to these painful experiences. you didn’t want to feel lie this anymore, to hurt anymore.

Simon feels the shift in energy, having stealthily been observing your descent into uncharted territory. he knows where your mind space is, knows that your mind is ricking you into believing you’re too much and that things were easier without you. the way you slightly fled his touch led him to slowly and sneakily withdraw his arms from you, placing them behind his head to allow you to be freed from his grasp. he relishes in the sigh you let out, the way you teeth latch onto his shirt and begin to chew away to calm the nerves. Simon calmly reaches to his right where your spare ear defenders are tucked away, and he slowly slides them over your head. he makes quick work of tying back your hair to lessen the amount of stimuli you had to process. your lover lessens his own chatter, reducing himself to careful nods and short sentences or small laughs to allow you a full realm of recovery. he gives you two taps to your back, a silent inquiry to your current state. you respond with a head shake, signaling that you were far beyond your capacity. simon could tell that your thoughts were being unkind to you, but he was certain he could help you through this difficult period. “they alright,” Price asks, eyes kind as they fall on your frame in Simon’s grasp. the men knew you were autistic, and they were more than supportive to you. Simon sighs, eye soft as he looked at the men and back at you. “Yeah, i think they're just pushing toward overload. ‘m gonna take them to the room, let them get this out,” Simon hums softly, timbre of his voice lowered to create less strain. He gives you another silent tap as a request to carry to your bed, and you nod softly against his chest. his chest dims the lighting of your living room, lessening the stimuli you’ve been taking in. Simon scoops you into his arms and carries you to your bedroom where he gently sits you on your bed. the lights have been dimmed, and Simon slides your weighted blanket closer to you. “Blanket’s here love. ‘M gonna let you have some space, but i’ll be back to check on you soon. ‘M so sorry this happened lovie, but I love you. You’re safe. I am not angry with you, and you’re allowed to feel these things,” He comforts you, placing your stims within reach as your eyes fix on the floor in front of you. He knows words have left you, and he hums before leaving the room to allow you time to process.

thank you for reading! if this experience does not feel very cloe to yours, please feel free to send a request with a different scenario of autism reader x allistic simon <3

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi there! So i hope you dont mind me requesting the BB league elite four members + Kieran with a disabled reader who used to be a former BB league elite four member themself (Romantic for Drayton and platonic for the others)

So basically, the reader used to be the fifth ranked member of BB league elite four but after Kieran became the BB league champion, they lost their rank to Crispin and now is the sixth ranked member. Though, they dont have any hard feelings and still see the elite four members as their friends

the reader had an accident when they were younger and now uses a wheelchair to move around. They have a gardevoir who they raised since she was a ralts and now helps her trainer with stuff (so maybe there’s something the reader needs but it’s on the top shelf, Gardevoir will then just use psychic and bring it down for them or maybe the reader wanted to try walking with a cane, if the reader fall, Gardevoir will catch them with psychic) and a Hisuian Braviary to help them get to places in the terrarium (if some hisuian pokemon still exist in this generation, who’s to say that Hisuian Braviary still exist as well)

With permission from the director, Gardevoir was allowed out of her ball to help the reader which then leads to a misconception where people think the reader is a psychic type trainer due to Gardevoir and Hisuian Braviary, when in fact they’re not. They are actually a ghost type trainer but they never bother to clear the misconception bc its funny to see people’s faces when people see their ghost type team.

Hope you have a lovely day/night btw!

- 🪷 anon

Oooh in regards to Hisuian Pokemon, I have a hc that they are extremely rare and got isekai'd to the present via space-time distortion bubbles (like opposite of how Porygon and Johtonian Sneasel were transported to Hisui)

Anyways these hcs sorta took off on their own haha, so they're under the cut!

.....

Drayton

Despite being wheelchair-bound for most of your life, that never stopped you from joining the BB Elite Four and becoming the fifth ranked member practically overnight.

Around that time, you and Drayton were dating, and during his champion days, he always tried to make time for you and put his duties on the backburner.

He knows you value your independence and will only help you out with stuff if asked.

But usually it's your two psychic types that assist you. They don't battle much, but rather work as your medical support Pokémon.

Gardevoir, a sweet lass you've raised since she was a Ralts, uses Psychic to retrieve things for you that are just a little out of your reach in the store.

One good days, you could walk around with a cane...but if they turn bad (ie your chronic pain acts up) she'll use Heal Pulse as a temporary remedy.

She also pushes your chair around in case your arms get tired, taking you around to accessible spots.

Director Cyrano gave you permission to let her stay outside her pokeball 24/7 so she can properly work.

You also have a Hisuian Braviary--who literally travelled across time and space to meet you--that flies you around the Terarium, letting you climb on their back while their talons securely hold onto your folded chair.

With those two often out and about, there's a common misconception about you being the Elite Four's psychic specialist...when in reality you have a ghost type team.

Many challengers find that out the hard way when they clear your trial and send their ghosts against you....only for you to reveal your own ghostly duo that hit back twice as hard.

Drayton loves watching your matches from the sidelines and laughs every time he sees their shocked faces.

He even proposed an idea that your team should remain a mystery up until the moment of battle.

All is well until Kieran comes along and dethrones him, which demotes you to the sixth ranking member..while Crispin takes your spot.

It wasn't exactly a position you liked, since it's on the cusp of disqualifying you as an elite member.

But you weren't mad at anybody over this...if anything you had to make sure Drayton didn't get too mad at Kieran.

Eventually, though, he learns that he could spend more time with you and has less responsibilities on his plate (ofc he's still petty, as we all know during Indigo Disk).

Despite his lax personality, he wants to do all he can to support you and defend you from harassment.

This man would definitely find excuses to carry you around.

"Oh why don't cha give your Pokémon a break and let me help you over here?" He suggests and you end up accepting his offer, letting him carry you from your wheelchair to the sofa in the club room...which is literally five feet away.

Still, you let him do what he wants.

Plus getting to cuddle is a nice bonus.

Kieran

You once knew him as this sweet shy kid who used to be scared of your Hisuian Braviary, always asking if they're gonna hypnotize him.

"No, Kiki..they just help me get around places."

"...a-are you sure? Because they're starin' at me kinda weird.."

"That's how they normally are."

Plus he (like many students) falsely believed you had a psychic team when you're actually the Elite Four's ghost-type specialist.

He admired that "element of surprise" you brought to the table and dreamed of the day he could challenge you himself.

But one trip to his hometown and back later...he's suddenly the Champion, a shell of his former self, who only sees Pokémon as tools for battle.

You wonder what happened to him, although apparently he had a bad falling out with some exchange student and took his angst out on everyone at BBA.

Getting you knocked down to the sixth rank was something he never really apologized for.

Despite that, he didn't tolerate people who talked shit about you, your ranking, your medical condition, or why your Pokémon get to roam more freely than their own.

"At least [y/n] is still out there training their team every day. At least they're turning their hardships into strength. What's your excuse?"

"I-I didn't mean any offense, Kieran! Listen, I'll apologize to them and-"

"Oh, you will...after we have a battle so I can assess your strength. No potions. No moves that boost attack, speed, or defense. If you lose, you resign. You have one hour to prepare."

Sometimes, you're not sure if he's genuinely looking out for you...or if he just wanted an excuse to bully club members around.

While he's aware that Gardevoir and Hisuian Braviary are mainly your medical support 'mons, he still thinks they can always try out battling.

"They could be the ones who help you climb the ranks again [y/n]. Surely you're tired of being in last place, aren't you?"

Yet the advice he believes is helpful is usually unwarranted half the time.

You could just be casually talking to a friend about how your opponent out-sped you and/or used Light Screen/Reflect...

Only for Kieran to barge into the conversation with "well maybe you should've taught Braviary Tailwind/Defog..but I guess you don't have the time for that" or something passive-aggressive that just makes you both uncomfortable.

Your psychic types are honestly annoyed by his new attitude..and you're just disheartened by how he acts around Drayton now.

You and him dating never bothered Kieran before, but now he just glares at your bf 24/7 and scoffs loudly if you're talking about anything except battling.

Despite everything, you knew he was going through something difficult, so you tried not to take his words to heart. You still saw him as a friend.

Someone who was just misguided in his ambitions.

After his humbling defeat and adventure into Area Zero, he comes back with extreme guilt, with you being the first elite member he apologizes to.

He especially feels shitty for distracting your psychic types from doing their jobs properly with his constant nagging to battle them.

But you forgive him, thanking him properly for all the times he's stood up for you.

And you do end up taking some of his unsolicited advice.

You invite him to a friendly double-battle when he returns from break and brought out Braviary and Gardevoir, using Tailwind and terastalizing one of them into a ghost type.

It turns out that whenever they're not working, they battle in perfect sync.

Crispin

In the beginning, this chef boi wondered how your two psychic types help you with your daily life, and you just explain everything as simply as you could to him during a picnic.

"So Gardevoir pushes me around, retrieves stuff I can't reach, and helps me manage my pain. Braviary just flies me around the Terarium....any questions?"

"Just one......do you use Braviary because the taxis here don't accommodate your wheelchair?" He assumes, already starting to fume. "How outrageous! That's not-!"

"Calm down, Crispy..they do. I'm just saying that I'd rather fly with Brave most of the time. It's not only convenient, but more fun for me."

"...o-oh, right. Sorry for getting all fire-up back there.." He gushes.

After learning how hard they work, he absolutely wants to make sure they're fed well everyday! Snacks alone won't sustain them. He knows this for sure.

So he's always cooking them up something, often wanting their opinion on the meals and sandwiches: are they too spicy or not spicy enough?

The same goes for your ghost types, too (especially if you have a Chandelure, Ceruledge, and/or Skeledirge on your team).

But after Kieran becomes the new champion and Crispin takes your rung on the League's ladder..he feels really awful and constantly apologizes for pretty much replacing you.

He should feel good about climbing closer to the top, but he doesn't, as he cried over the possibility of you hating him forever or resigning from the club because of him.

When you confronted him, he tried blaming the onions.

But your Gardevoir--one of the most emotionally-intuitive Pokémon out there--saw through his lie, and you had to reassure him he was still your friend.

You kept telling him you weren't mad....until you almost got mad fr because he wouldn't stop asking if you were 100% sure of that.

To prove it you, your psychic pokemon, and your ghost team all split one of the spiciest sandwiches he's ever made.

By the time it was finished, you were convinced you just learned the move Flamethrower.

Yet seeing that bright smile return to Crispin's face made it worth the agony.

Lacey

She loves hearing that you have a Gardevoir (or just cute ghost Pokémon in general).

If you have a Mimikyuu on your team, that's a plus in her book.

But regardless, she's the first to give you a warm welcome into the Elite Four, explaining the criteria and tests you had to pass in order to be accepted as a member.

Yet even outside of battle, she quickly discovers that your ghosts are still mischievous at best--always playing pranks on her fairies with moves like Phantom Force, Shadow Sneak, Astonish, and Poltergeist.

Ofc they never mean any harm, but when she hears Whimsicott squeal in fright, she's quick to come to its rescue and scold the perpetrator.

If you have a Gengar, it just laughs and mocks them both until it hears you roll up like "that wasn't very nice, y'know...apologize to Lacey and Whimsicott right now, please".

Even if it's a little defiant, a glare from Gardevoir or Hisuian Braviary is enough to make it relent and apologize.

Speaking of whom, seeing an ancient variant of Braviary did frighten Lacey upon first meeting them (especially with their hypnotic-looking faux flaming "eyes").

But over time she grows to like them, seeing how obedient and gentle they are with helping you get you around the Terarium.

If you have any decal on your chair, she'll suggest adding a few more things to make it "cuter". Like stickers of fairy types or a soft pillow for your back.

When you get demoted to the sixth rank in the League, she bought you those exact things to cheer you up, feeling bad that things turned out the way they did

But you expressed zero grudges towards anyone and appreciated her kindness.

Her Granbull always offers his tummy to you should you wanna rest somewhere--even though this makes Braviary a little jealous bc they're supposed to be your favorite resting spot.

Their rivalry is amusing, but Gardevoir often has to come to her fellow psychic type's rescue.

Meanwhile you're just sitting back and snickering at their banter, while poor Lacey begs you not to encourage this behavior.

Amarys

When you both first met, you found her personality rather off-putting, assuming she was doubting your capabilities of being an Elite Four Member despite passing all the tests.

She never seemed happy for you, her face always blank.

Growing up, a lot of people have pitied you, given you odd stares, or thought you would've given up being a Pokémon trainer...and some even asked outright insensitive questions about what happened to you--and seeing how Amarys acted kinda brought some of those ugly memories back to the forefront.

But once she realizes this, she apologizes straightaway for giving you such a bad impression, clarifying that she fully believes in your battling abilities.

Since then, you've formed a better friendship with her.

She asks you respectful questions about your wheelchair (ie if it's made from any strong alloys, how well it gets you around the Terarium's biomes, etc.) and how Gardevoir and Hisuian Braviary aid you in your daily life and listens well.

Learning that you actually battle with ghost types despite the misconception circulating around the school wasn't too surprising.

If anything, Amarys believes that was quite strategic on your part.

It's no wonder you have a lot of victories under your belt.

Even after getting demoted to the sixth rank, she's impressed you're still able to bounce back from such defeat..and that you didn't hold it against Kieran or anybody.

She believes he could learn a lesson or two from you and not take his loss against Florian/Juliana so hard...but knows that's not her place to speak.

[bakubunny]

give and take

a/n: retired (disabled) shota x disabled reader hurt/comfort fluff. pls read all the tags; this is very self indulgent bc that’s how i feel like writing today. also i did a quick grammar check but this is generally unedited.

tw: neurological disorders, tics, muscle spasms, speech problems, dissociation, functional seizures, established relationships, l-bomb, reader is called baby, babygirl, daddy as nickname/title (used once)

You stood in the kitchen, chefs knife in hand as you cut the last of the vegetables out before you. Shota rinsed rice at the sink on your right. You froze briefly before a muscle spasm shot through your hand, then a small tic. It was hardly any movement, but he caught it in the corner of his eye. Five years into retirement, you’d swear Shota was still sharp as ever.

“You okay?” he asked.

The sound of water stopped.

There was a slight hesitation in your voice. “Yeah. I’m good.”

With a few measured slices, the job was done. Your hand seized again. The large knife clattered onto the counter.

“Shit, sorry,” you said. More for yourself than him, perhaps.

Another small vocal tic.

Shota glanced your direction. “Let me take care of the rest.”

“Really, I’m-I’m fine, Sho,” you replied, transferring the cut onion onto a plate.

The subtle shift in his face told you he held his tongue this time when he’d rather not. Sure, you had a bad habit of pushing yourself too hard, but Shota had no room to talk on that. He knew - especially now - that life didn’t stop just because you did.

You shut your eyes; one pulled back and rolled for a second. Your body grew tired and heavy. “Just been a long-”

One moment, you were standing, the next, your legs gave out beneath you. There was a clang when the metal bowl of the rice cooker hit the floor. Rice and water splattered nearby as Shota caught you, body limp in his arms.

“Baby?”

An eyebrow twitched in response. Your head lolled forward painfully. Shota pulled you back into his shoulder and carefully lowered you to the floor, your head in his lap. A muscle spasm ripped down your spine as your back arched, muscles so tight that your extremities shook and your vision blurred once it passed once your eyes opened. Head foggy and empty, you fought your body to respond. A small groan left your throat.

“I’m right here. I love you,” Shota said, running his fingers through your hair.

Another look of fear crossed your face with a whine. You wanted to apologize and crawl into his arms, but your body stayed still. And your husband knew you too well.

“Don’t be sorry.”

You laid with him as spasms came and went, along with your awareness of the things around you. When you came to a little, your fingertips stretched out seeking his hand, so he reached for yours.

“Hey, babygirl. You with me?” he said.

“Mhm.” You still couldn’t move much. But this was something.

“Am I okay to carry you?” Shota asked.

“I… think so,” you said.

With relative quickness and the ease of a practiced hero, he gathered you up in his arms and carried you to bed.

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

You laid in bed with Shota, your head on his shoulder, finished dinner plates on the tray he’d set at the end of the bed, and sighed.

“Sometimes I really hate all of this,” you said. “I hate that you have to do so much for me. You’ve got enough to handle.”

“You’re the love of my life. Why would I leave you to suffer?” he asked.

When you stayed quiet, he continued. “It’s give and take. You do just as much for me.”

“I know…” you replied. “Sho?”

“Mm?”

“If… if I take care of the dishes, will you take a bath with me?” You played with the hem of his shirt.

Shota smiled softly. “You want daddy to wash your hair, baby?”

A grin pushed at your cheeks. “Maybe, yeah.”

“You don’t need to do anything to have that,” he replied. “I have the energy tonight. Let me take care of you.”

You hugged him tighter. “Thank you.”'

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡

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[sharkboywrites]

Sooo fun news: I now write for Baldur’s Gate 3, so if any trans, male, autistic, and/or disabled fans want to send in a request for a fic, feel free!

Super exited to be adding this to my list because this game has had me in a complete chokehold for the past few weeks and I’ve noticed a lack of male readers or any type of diverse reader. If the content will not come to me I will make it myself goddamnit!

Always love y’all mwah

[spidey-bie]

A/N: This is gonna be very self indulgent. Also I've never written headcanons before so bare with me. Also disabled was too wide of a field so I narrowed it down to just joint issues/chronic pain.

Hobie With a Disabled S/O or Friend:

I can definitely see him helping you decorate your mobility aids with different cpunk slogans. Much to the dismay of your family.

"Oh honey you got a new sticker on your cane, what does it say?"

"Big Pharma can suck my dick."

"Oh....that's nice."

His hands are probably rough but I guarantee you that this man gives the best massages. You just tell him what's hurting and he's got you.

If you're having a bad pain day and you don't feel like moving he'll bring you what you need and just vibe with you in bed all day.

"Don't you have to go into HQ today?"

"And leave you here to fend for yourself? Come off it luv."

Always keeps some sort of pain reliever on hand whether it's medicine or homemade ice/heat packs.

He steals your medicine for you if you can't afford it. (Honestly he probably still does even if you can. People should never have to pay so that they don't suffer.)

Definitely helps you on your wash days when your joint pain flares up.

Despite him and his damn long legs he makes sure to match your pace when you both walk together.

He'll side eye you at first but he'd carry you if you asked him too (this is for me)

"Hobie please? My ankles hurt. It'll just for a couple minutes." 🥺

"Bug we could just sit down and rest for a minute if you're in pain."

"And here I thought that Spiderman was supposed to be strong. It's fine. I'll ju-"

He picks you up and slings you over his shoulders like a sack of potatos.

"This isn't what I meant and you know it."

He laughs and then he carries you correctly.

Actively advocates with you for your needs and rights.

Also after he introduces you to Sun Spider y'all become close friends who exchange tips.

E/N: I spent most of my time watching YouTube videos of the same clips of Hobie from the movie over and over again instead of writing this so yay. Hope you like and reblog this. Might write some more idk.

[kodiackwrites]

Willy wonka x chronically ill reader, warnings of doctor and sickness talk! (I have chrons & POTS so this is roughly based on those diagnoses but there’s no mention of set issue)

Willy wonka who’s partner is chronically ill but the doctors can’t find any diagnosis or treatment.

Willy wonka who sits by your side through every trip to the doctor, on the bathroom floor during bad nights, taking note of foods and other triggers.

One day in specific, the day was going well you felt decent for the first time in a while, so Willy takes you to walk around town and sight see. But your head started spinning, your legs felt light, and suddenly you couldn’t hold yourself up, usually you’d have crutches for this, but you’d left them at home. And of course Willy would always support you.

One day, things were bad, you couldn’t leave your bed or the ball you were curled into, dearly clutching a giraffe plushy will had bought you. Will had left to grab you water, and rushed back into your room with light weight, not making too much noise, “I’m so sorry honey I’m back, I’m right here.” He said bringing over your water, placing it right by your side, You weakly looked up to meet his eyes, tears fighting to fall down your face. His expression filled with sorrow as he brought a hand to your chin, carefully listing your face to place a kiss on your cheek, before crawling into bed by your side, you looked to your water, seeing a small chocolate, It was in the shape of a heart, with purple and blue streaks throughout, you’d never doubted Will’s choice of sweets, so you took it into your hands, and slowly ate it. Before drinking a bit of water and rolling over into Will’s arms, which he wrapped around you immediately, making sure you were comfortable, and massaging your scalp. Leaving you to drift off to sleep calmly.

You’d wake up with Willy still holding you, he’d never dare leave you in such a state, but you felt, better? For once in so so long, you felt normal, no discomfort, headaches, stomach aches, it was a miracle, you quickly say up and turned Willy, “Did you?” He just smiled, “it worked?” He asked hopefully, you couldn’t find the words to respond, just jumped into his arms, “thank you handsome, so so much.”

(I need this to be real, I’m dying)

[1-ker0sene-1]

Caregiver

MDNI, Straight up smut once again

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

Selfish. He's being damn selfish. How can he help it? You were good. Too good for him, he knows that. But you're funny, the kind of funny that full on belly laughs at his jokes and grins at him even when he barely smiles at his worst ones. You're too understanding, he took the job to take care of you- but when his head throbs and burns in pain, when he snaps into a thought of war, you're there with him to keep him centered. Fucks sake are you gorgeous. Beautiful in each sense of the word. Your eyes are burned into his brain. He has to stop himself from gripping on the soft flesh of your hips when he sees you. You're too soft, too warm, for a ruined man like himself.

So when you're sitting across from eachother at a cafe he drove you to, talking about another failed date of yours. It takes everything not to break the mug in his hands. Another idiot, you tell him all about, some dumb bastard that had no idea what he let slip away. Johnny won't let you slip away. No. Not any further. He's not a good man, but he can treat you like he is.

John MacTavish can be a patient man. Not with you.

He wasn't patient enough. Barely enough to get through the front door, cause now he's got you pressed into the mattress. Knees up against your chest, your warm, throbbing cunt squeezing his length. Watching your mouth fall open with babbling moans and gutteral whimpers. He leans down to shush them sweetly, pressing his open mouth to yours. Plunging his tongue into your mouth to claim it, grinding his hips hard into you. The scruff above his cock rubbing against your abused clit, making your pussy flutter on his size.

"Poor fuckin' thing.. poor wee bonnie.."

He coos.

"John-"

You cry into his mouth, he only grins. Kissing on the side of your face down to your neck.

"Aye I'll take care of ye.. Me. I will. Always do. Always fuckin' will."

His dog tags hanging from his neck, dangling down in the valley between your breasts. As they bounce softly from his rough thrusts. He sinks his teeth into the skin of your throat, growling against it.

"My lass. You'll be my lass. I'll provide- I'll take care of ye- I'll love ye- fuck I'm gonna marry ye hen-"

You're gripping him tight, not just your pretty slit either. Your nails drag down his back, tears in your eyes as you shiver from overstimulation. Fuck. You've already came twice since you both started. He needs more, more of you.

"Ye have to tell me. Tell me ye want this. Tell me you'll let me have ye- I need ye-"

John is begging you like a dog, forehead pressed to yours. Tears just barely starting in his own eyes, drunk on the way your walls tighten around him. On the way your skin feels against his. He is not a good man, he can love you like one, but he can't fuck you like one.

"Yes- yes please."

You confirm, nodding instantly. Craning your head up to brush your lips against his, he leans down to meet you half way. He crumples against you with relief, his full weight pressing you down to the bed. Still pounding into you. He presses his lips to your temple, kissing it tenderly as he bullies your cervix with his cock.

"Fuckin' finally."

[uwingdispatch]

From the Very First Night

From the Very First Night

Notes: Ezra Bridger/Reader, established relationship, gender neutral reader, post-rebellion/post-war, hurt/comfort, chronically ill/disabled reader

CW: light discussion of past traumas/implied PTSD

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

The day you met Ezra Bridger you laughed when he told you his name. 

“Forgive me,” you told him, “but you’re not the first man on Lothal to try and pick me up while claiming to be the guy in the mural on the wall outside.”

“Well that’s new,” he said. “I tell you my full government name and you think it’s a ruse. Maybe I should have used one of my old aliases.”  

You’d been finishing up some work in what had come to be your favorite caf bar in town, a few blocks from your home on Lothal. And you were thinking about leaving when a man approached with a look in his eyes that, on another day, might have prompted you to pick up your comms and fake an emergency call from a friend.

But now he was reaching for his wallet, pulling out an ID. “You can check my chain code if you want. I didn’t realize I had so many doppelgängers.”  

You quirked an eyebrow. None of the other “Ezras” you’d met had offered ID but, as soon as you saw it, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Okay,” you said. “This is embarrassing. ”

He smiled warmly as he put his wallet away. “To be fair, most of the stuff in town depicts me as a kid, and I didn’t have this handsome beard back then. But I can appreciate a skeptic.”

You put away your datapad, your instincts still split between staying where you were and running out the side door. Surprising yourself, you say, “But I’m not hearing you say that you're not trying to pick me up.”

“Well…maybe. That depends, I guess, on whether you mind if I join you.”

You nodded, and he sat opposite you, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling when he smiled. Up close, you could almost see the teenage boy from the mural. But his hair was longer, dark curls falling soft around his face, and he had a short beard that he did wear quite well.

You wondered if his nerves had caught up with him as he ran a hand through his hair, the late afternoon light coming in through the window catching a streak of silver at his temple.

“Sometimes it feels like I know everyone in this city. Or at least that everyone in this city feels like they know me.” he said. “But you’re new, aren’t you?”

“What gave me away?” you asked.

“Well, I could never forget such a lovely face.” 

“Are you serious right now?”

“I really am.”

There was something sincere about him, despite the flirtations. Something about the way he moved was honest. Welcoming. A server brought him a cup of caf and Ezra exchanged a few words with him in Rodian. 

“So how long have you been in town?” He asked.

“About eight months,” you said. “I just hit this point where I felt like a fresh start might be nice. I don’t usually abandon ship when things get rough, but I thought maybe this one time…I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

He winked. “I used a Jedi mind trick.” 

“Right,” you said, fairly certain he was kidding.

He shrugged. “And somehow you landed on Lothal.”

“I narrowed it down to the places where I’d be able to have my astromech serviced.”

“Must be a special astromech.”

“She’s a therapy droid.”

“Ah,” he said. “There are several mechanics in Capital City who work with that program.”

You were a bit taken aback at how unfazed he was at the mention of your therapy droid—issued by the New Republic. Similar programs had been available to injured veterans before, but the civilian program was newer. And he not only knew about the program, but didn’t seem bothered by the fact that you had a condition that required this kind of aid.

“We had a lot of options,” you said. “But Ceetoo and I decided Lothal seemed nice. So…I’m here.” 

“Glad you are,” he said, both hands cupping his caf mug.

“You just met me and the first thing I did was call you a liar.”

“That’s what I like about you.”

A day would come when you’d realize what he meant then. That when you saw him you weren’t thinking about all the war stories, about the way Lothal had memorialized him when they’d thought he was dead. That he had a chance, at least for a moment, to show someone who he was without the burden of their assumptions and expectations. 

You would also come to realize that from the first time Ezra smiled at you, there was no coming back. He had you, melting like chocolate in the palm of his hand. Because he saw you too, like no one else ever had before.

***

It’s late afternoon when C2-B35 comes in from the garage bleeping about the line at the pharmacy. She’d gone with Ezra to pick up your medication after getting your doctor to call in something new for your joint pain. Ezra could have gone by himself but, because of an incident early in your dating history when there’d been a mix-up, Ceetoo almost always insists on going with him—and he learned a long time ago not to fight a stubborn astromech.

Ezra finds you on the sofa where you’ve been trying to relax, the pain in your back making it hard to even lie still. He knows better by now than to tell you that you’ve been working too hard, that you should take more breaks. He knows to help you up, taking you gently into his arms and kissing your hair. By the time he hands you the tablets, you’re already feeling a bit of relief.

You take the medicine and let out a heavy sigh, resting your head on Ezra’s chest before whispering a thank you. 

“I wish I could heal,” he says.

“We still don’t know if that kind of healing would help me,” you say. “Genetic condition.”

It’s a dance you dance every time you have a flare like this, bad enough that Ceetoo insists on contacting your doctor. 

“I met a kid once who could do it. His dad said he could nullify the effects of a neurotoxin. Close a wound like it had never been there at all.”

“What did the kid say about it?”

“The kid doesn’t talk much. Still working through some things, I think.”

He gets quiet, and from the look in his eyes you know that he’s gone somewhere in his mind lost you can’t follow. It’s been 25 years since he last saw his adoptive father, the man who’d trained him in the Force, and there are some wounds that time never quite heals. Ezra is still working through some things, too.

“Hey,” you say. “Come back to me.”

He smiles, his eyes bright as he gently squeezes your arm. “I’m right here, sunshine.” 

The medication starts to hit, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You reach for his face, the sharp line of his bearded jaw, the parallel scars on his left cheek. “Just as you are, you’re enough, Ezra. I don’t need a Jedi. I just need you.”

C2-B35 beeps irritably before retiring to her room, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast. 

“Thank you, Ceetoo,” you call, with a promise that you’ll have a proper dinner.

“Is it helping?” Ezra asks. “The medicine?”

“It is,” you say. “Finally.”

“Have you really not eaten all day?”

Your face tells him everything. 

“Right,” he says. “Dinner. I could make some quick dumplings? I think I froze some last time to fry later…I’d just have to make the sauce, really.”

He’s up and in the kitchen, pulling jars of spices out of the pantry, and you know he can already taste this comfort dish, and so can you.

So much of his life had been unstable after Ezra’s parents disappeared. He was on his own at such a young age, and then after a few short years in the Rebellion he ended up in exile on Peridea. Now, everything he had felt like a luxury to him: a permanent home, a pair of naughty indoor loth-cats, soft clothes he wore without consideration for armor. He’d told you about learning to cook when he came back to Lothal and, now that he has access to just about any ingredient for any dinner in the galaxy, he has every intention of not only enjoying the luxury of any hot meal he can dream up, but to make sure you enjoy food as well. When Ezra offers to cook, you never say no.

“Ezra?”

“What do you need, love?”

“I need you to kiss me.”

And he does, pulling you up from the sofa, taking your face in his hands as he presses his lips to yours, his neatly trimmed beard soft against your skin. You’re lacing your fingers through his dark curls when he pulls away to look right into your eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you whisper.

And he replies, “I can’t imagine being anywhere else.” 

***

It was night before you left the caf bar and, at this realization, Ezra insisted on walking you home. “Unless you don’t feel comfortable with that,” he’d said. “I would understand. It’s just dark out and…”

And something about being with Ezra just made you feel safe. Even on that first night. You’d never let a strange man walk you home before—it was on its face a bad idea. But you’d stayed out much later than you normally would, and the idea of being alone felt far more unsafe than being with this charming man.

“I don’t normally do things like this,” you told him, the words coming out way too fast, just a block from your building.

“I figured,” he said. “For what it’s worth…I haven’t done anything like this in quite a while.

This did surprise you. “Walked someone home?”

There was a playful tone to his voice when he replied, “Approached a beautiful stranger in a caf bar.” 

“You sure are bold for someone who doesn’t regularly…do whatever this is.”

“I just…” he started and paused, taking a breath. “This is going to sound like a line, but I just felt so drawn to you.”

“In the Force?”

“Maybe.”

“It does sound like a line,” you said. “But somehow I believe you. Jedi mind trick?”

“I’d never actually—”

“I know.”

You were both standing outside your door, a cool evening breeze in the air. You took all of him in—his firm chest beneath the deep v of his tunic, his dark hair catching on the wind, those blue eyes that seemed to see right past all of your walls. You’d met this man just a few hours ago but, beyond all reason, you so wanted to—

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, the words falling from his lips as if he hadn’t considered the consequences.

You nodded and he took a step closer, cupping your face in his hands, his nose brushing yours as he leaned in to press the most delicate kiss to your lips. And you felt his smile just as you felt that joy in yourself—a spark of something unlike anything you’d felt before. Maybe it was the Force, but every inch of your being wanted to be close to this man as you reached for his face, drawing him nearer, slipping a hand into his hair as the kiss deepened.

“I should go,” Ezra said, breathless into your ear.

“Why?” you asked.

“I have an appointment.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Then stay.”

Nervously you fumbled with your keys, dropping them not once but twice as you tried to open your door, Ezra eventually placing them steadily into your hand, and just the touch of his fingertips against your palm sent a pleasant shiver through you. Quickly you shooed an alarmed Ceetoo away as you entered. Unlike you, her memories included files from the war, and she recognized Ezra as soon as she saw him. Beeped out something along the lines of this one’s mostly trustworthy and I’m going to charge.

“Mostly?” Ezra said, almost in a whisper. “I wonder what she’s heard.”

You bite back a laugh. “I just need you to know I don’t normally do this either.”

“Okay.”

“I could make some tea.”

“Sure.”

But his arms were around you again and you both stumbled toward the sofa, falling into the cushions wrapped in each other like teenagers, wholly unworried about anything else in the galaxy.

That tea didn’t get made for hours. And it was nearly dawn when you retired to your bedroom and Ezra fell asleep on your sofa, your loth-cat sitting at his feet. When you woke, he was gone, a note left on your kitchen counter: Had to work this morning, but I hope you’ll call me. You traced your finger over the comms code left in scratchy handwriting below, wondering for a split second if this could be real. But if you closed your eyes you could still feel the sensation of his fingertips ghosting over your cheek when you’d handed him a blanket the night before. His voice when he’d whispered in your ear, “Sleep well, sunshine.” 

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! They really gave us Hot!Ezra in the Ahsoka series and I'm just here to be a gremlin about it. I hope this fic made you feel seen and loved.

I have a taglist now! Sign up here if you want to be tagged in future fics. (And choose if you only want to be tagged for certain characters.) In the meantime, I’m tagging my taglist as well as some folks who have been reblogging my fics. Love y’all!

@writingbylee @waterpancakeao3 @princessxkenobi @zinzinina @aerynwrites @belfry-bat@phoenixhalliwell @r1-sw-lover @laserbrains @darthanakn @lovedbyth3sun @usernamesarebitches @maul-ologue @operation-spot @writeforfandoms @akgracemk @littlemousedroid @strwrs @saveatruckrideoptimusprime @galaxtic-writings @mintpurplemnm @againstacecilia @elasticreality @zombiedixon89 @forresway @sith-as-heck @alistocats @favficss @themandadolorian @ginger-swag-rapunzel @iamsuchanasshat @vvpoisonous @saradika @islandfrogeery @boba-brasso-bee @groguspawbeans @fluffyprettykitty @mischiefqueer @wretchedmo @wyn-n-tonic @dystopicjumpsuit

[dirtyvirgotarot]

PICK-A-CARD: Healing Words For YOU!

I return with more PACs!! This one includes some healing messages and advice. This one speaks inwards, towards your shadow self, or inner child! Whether it's words that may bring you peace, or advice on how to soothe your heart and mind, this is the PAC for you! Choose one or more of these healing stones, and let spirit kiss your boo-boos better! ~~~~~~~~~ Pile 1 (Rose Quartz): Pile 1, you may be mourning the loss of a lover or friends. You may feel like you were not enough for them, or that you have a hard time making new ones. Your self-confidence has taken a blow, but the worst thing you could do is to step back. Manifestation for you is at it's strongest! Don't stop your feelings from letting you go out and have fun. Sometimes, you need to get a little uncomfortable to find something or someone new! Now is the time to put yourself out there, and continue being you. Now is the time to manifest, but you must meet your manifestations in the middle! Sitting around on your booty isn't going to make it happen. Your social life will not just fall into your lap! Take what inspires you, and run with it. believe in yourself. The universe does, and so do I! Manifest. Embrace your energetic side, be the life of the party, and see what happens! Even if 'life of the party' means you dancing with your drink in the corner! Be you, and the right people will gravitate to you like a moth to a flame! 💃 I manifest my life the way I want it to be. Success, abundance and happiness come naturally to me. ~~~~~~~~ Pile 2 (Amethyst): You feel as if something might be wrong, Pile 2. You sense something is off or amiss. You may have been feeling antsy, or anxious for seemingly no reason. You are being called to heed your own inner guidance. Listen to your intuition at this time. Be kind to yourself, nurture your instincts and feelings. Don't call yourself a worrywart. You're not overreacting, and you're not picking up bad signals where you shouldn't be. Listen to your gut, and act on it. If there's nothing physically around you causing these bouts of anxiety and worry, what possibly could be? Reflect using intuition, and if you need to, seek help from a mental health professional. You also may have emotions or feelings that you have been holding in. If you have a person you want to confess feelings to, and if you feel like there might be something mutual between you and this person in your gut, go for it. Don't be afraid! You've been through some rough times, and people may have treated you awfully, even abusively. Listen to your feelings, and nurture them! Honor yourself, Pile 2. You aren't a burden. Your feelings matter. 💗 I am open and aware of messages coming to me, and I trust that they will guide me on my path. ~~~~~~~~ Pile 3 (Moonstone): Pile 3, you are being called to honor your inner child. Honor love, loyalty and all things tender. Open your arms and your heart, it is safe to do so at this time! Even if a situation may typically have you skittish, cautious or even something like being barred by tradition, if you feel the call, let it all go. Gravitate towards what feels right, despite your worries. Use your intuition, of course, and it is more than perfectly okay to be shy, but if your heart truly wants something, seize it! You got this! Embrace every new opportunity with a childlike excitement! You are particularly strong in your intuition. Your connection between you and your inner child may be stronger than most. Now is the time to get together and do things with others. Call a friend you haven't talked to in a while, bake your loved ones some cookies! Embrace nostalgia and sensitivity, even better if it's with someone you love. Hug and nurture your inner child! Don't be afraid to be vulnerable. Laugh, cry, kiss, hug, make love, do what your heart calls for you to do. 🫂 I honor my inner child and feed it all it needs to stay happy, healthy, young and free at heart. ~~~~~~~~ Pile 4 (Topaz):

 Pile 4, you are called to work on your shadow self. You feel like you are crumbling over the weight of your worries, your past. Bitterness, resentment, sadness, grudges, everything. You are having trouble going on with life, you feel as if you are not in control, and can't gain control unless you use force, whether that be with words or actions. You feel as though you can't make sense of the chaos, but that may be because you have been holding off on unpacking your past, or your trauma. You are putting it off out of fear, or unpleasant feelings. You know you won't like what you see, but it is necessary to move forwards and heal. Question your belief systems along the way. What's holding you back? What has created your current situation? It is time to be personally accountable for things you may have done to inflict pain upon others during your own moment of pain. You are more in control than you think, and to help you hone that, do shadow work as well as seeking help from a professional. It's time to stop being miserable. You can take those first steps to healing your shadow self. Things will get better, I promise. 🦋 I only hold positive thoughts. My actions are of pure intent. ~~~~~~~~ I hope these messages were helpful for you all! Please stay strong, and know that you are amazing!! -DV 💜💚

[macherkissed]

How he reacts to your body tremors-Jason Voorhees x GN!Reader

Requested by Anon

He thinks you’re just clumsy if you end up dropping or spilling things when he isn’t in the room to see it happen, until he sees the way your hands shake when holding certain things.

The first time Jason sees your legs trembling when you’re stood, he grunts nervously and is at your side in a second, worried that you’ll fall.

He ends up asking about it, as best he can, by getting your attention and making little noises while pointing at your hands and exaggeratedly moving his own hand.

You have to explain it a couple of times to him but he gets that it can’t be helped much and it can get worse when you’re stressed

He understands having issues like that, since he has his own struggles that you help him with, even more than his mother did.

Since then, he’ll offer to carry and hold things for you, which can be a little much sometimes but he will back off if you tell him to. He’ll hover at your side when he notices even a slight wobble of your leg, ready to scoop you up and be your legs for you

If your tremors get out of hand and you can’t calm them down or control them, Jason is fully willing to do anything you ask of him; fetch and carry, pick you up bridal-style and take you into another room, give you pressure hugs or hold your hands until you calm down, even going through breathing exercises if that would help you.

However, the first time you have a flare up, he does panic a little and starts whining and fidgeting around you, not knowing what to do or if he even can help, until you tell him what to do.

If you tell him that the tremors are a side effect of your medication, he will death-glare the drugs every time you take them. He won’t do anything to them, though he wants to, because he knows you need them.

Mostly, as with a lot of things, Jason will just follow your lead and trust what you tell him.

He’s happy to help and support you, the way you do with him.

If you'd like, you can buy me a coffee on Ko-fi 🥰

Buy PastaWrites a Coffee. ko-fi.com/macaroniwritings005 - Ko-fi ❤️

[angelatsumu]

allistic simon x autistic reader was just so heartwarming and relatable to read as i’m someone with the tism that often feels like a burden on others. it was so lovely, feeling like simon didn’t want to change the reader as a person or expect anything unreasonable of them, but rather accommodate them where he can. i also liked that he didn’t have to compromise himself and was able to do an activity he likes, but also care for reader! all around just really enjoyed the piece.

if i may, i’d love to request something where one of the reader’s safe foods/essential items is out of stock or being discontinued and how simon would help them navigate that situation. one of my fave essentials just got discontinued and i’m devastated lol ♥︎

hi there! i'm very happy that you enjoyed my first autistic reader piece. i'm sorry that your safe food is out of stock ): i get fairly frustrated when i can't have access to things that comfort me. i apologize in advanced for the subpar writing that will ensue this message.

allistic simon x autistic!reader: crisis averted

in which your lovely husband attempts to help you navigate the sudden unavailability of your safe food.

simon came back from his meeting on base a bit winded and more confused than when he'd originally left the home. the meeting was a cooperative planning session involving KorTac, and your husband failed to keep up with the newly-introduced objectives and profiles. his head hurt, frankly. the entire meeting he'd only been wondering what you'd been up to and if you missed him. when he finally entered your shared home, he was relieved to have the workday slide right off his broad, strong shoulders.

simon hummed as he heard the tapping of your PC keyboard, knowing you'd likely well into a deep dive of one of your special interests. he took off his boots by the door and calmly took steps toward the study, whistling as he walked. his eyes fell upon you in the throws of your own world of wonder, irises blown as you took in the information before you. Simon cleared his throat to grab your attention, and you peeled yourself away briefly to greet him. ,"hey Si," you hummed back distractedly, and your husband chuckled in response. "hi lovie," he grinned at you, moving to stand beside you and take in the media you were consuming. he stands there for a moment, enjoying your company, before he decides to trek to the kitchen for a snack.

simon peers around the area for signs of your appetite, signs that you had been feeding yourself and staying hydrated. he was met with an empty sink and dishwasher, and the items in the fridge looked untouched. the water filter was exactly as full as when he left this morning. he sighed, shaking his head before a lightbulb went off. maybe we're out of [food item]. that could do it, he thinks to himself, treking to the pantry to confirm the item was missing. he padded back into the study to greet you again, politely asking for your attention.

when you spin around to see a frowning Simon you instinctively feel puzzled, and of course Simon can tell by the way you stare at him blankly. "lovie, you didn't eat today?" he's soft when he speaks to you, ensuring that you don't feel scolded or punished. Your lover has been so understanding of your mannerisms, fully aware that your appetite was fickle and sometimes undetectable. you shook your head in response, words lost on you as you tried to recall your last meal. "there's no food item so I can't really eat right now," you responded cooly, and Simon nods his head in response. usually he'd kept up with the supply of your items, and he was honestly quite shocked that this wasn't upsetting you as much as he'd always imagined it would. he didn't want to press the issue, but he was mildly concerned that you may be pressing it down. "why didn't you say anything, are you not upset?" the question slides over your head, and you direct your attention back to the media in front of you. " 've been busy today," you respond as your eyes focus again on the screen. Simon sighs again, turning on his heels and heading to the bedroom for a change of clothes. he knew he'd be heading to the store now, or helping you through a meltdown later.

Simon had read up quite a bit on the fickle nature of meltdowns, and he was well versed in how unpredictable they may be. he'd listened to numerous autistic media creators mention their experience in reference to valves. when the 'special interest' tank was where you needed it, and your 'manual labor' valve was at a minimum, then that allowed for things like social interaction or emotional regulation. when you had no time to yourself and no time for the things that keep you happy, your mask began to slip and 'smaller' things that you normally coped with began to feel a lot heavier and less manageable. he knew that your special interest tank currently filled your cup to the brim, allowing you to ignore the constant discomfort of hunger and dehydration. he also knew that should this hunger persist it may heighten other, seemingly less significant, senses and experiences and he'd find himself well into meltdown territory. the longer he waited for you to notice your hunger, the more likely dysregulation would occur.

at the store, Simon's breath is stolen from him. the damned item was out of stock. he haggled a store employee, begging them to check their inventory again, but they'd been completely out of it. Simon found himself driving all over the city in search of this item, but he found nothing. at the fifth store he felt defeated, and he decided to search for the item online. to his dismay, it'd been discontinued. there was a pit in your husband's stomach at the information. to Simon's surprise, it seemed that his lovely spouse's support of this item hadn't been enough to singlehandedly keep the item in service. he scoffed as he thumbed through the list of items he knew you liked, all of which seeming a reach to coax you into eating.

Simon drives the 45 minutes back to the home, and you're pacing in the living room with your headphones on. Simon doesn't even have to ask, he knows you've overdone yourself with the screens and now your head hurts and your ears hurt; your ears always hurt when you're overstimulated. No matter how much you loved [special interest], you still found yourself overwhelmed if you indulged for too long.

you turn the music down at the sight of your husband in the doorway, waiting for him to speak. "Lovie, it seems that item has been discontinued." The words take a moment to be processed, but you fail to hide the disgust and frustration you feel about the information. you feel your chest getting tight, and the music doesn't feel loud enough. "i know this is difficult but-" 'How could we not notice it was discontinued? Why didn't i pay attention! It can't be! I don't want that. I don't want it." you began to cry, frustration coursing through you as your ears began to sting. You'd tried so hard to do better, to feel better for Simon, but now you felt helpless. Your brain began to eat away at you, blaming you for not keeping up with your own foods and snacks. Your pacing continues as you find yourself striking your chest repeatedly, trying to dull the pain of the situation. your mind felt like it was melting, and the tears continued.

Simon steps to you slowly, striking his own chest lightly and he nears your smaller frame. he slowly reaches his arms out beside him, allowing you to walk into his chest. his arms remain at his sides, and he allows the painful stimming to be transferred to his chest. your strikes feel nothing close to anything he'd truly suffered, and he hoped this would help you make it through this world-shattering time. he stands there for as long as you need him to, fully prepared for this to last several hours. the tears stain his shirt as you sniffle and sob, strikes getting lighter and lighter. you cry so much it leaves you dizzy, and your arms slowly reach out to simon's to wrap them around your frame. you give him two taps to let him know that you'd like to be squeezed, and he does so without complaint.

"You're safe, lovie. I'm sure this is very frustrating, so how about we order that Chinese food place you like. I know it's not safe food but it will feed you. I even have the exact order from last time, hm?" you offer him another two taps as confirmation, and he smiles.

Once you begin to come down from your meltdown, Simon is sure to help you change into your favorite pajamas and wraps you in your compression blanket. you two spend the evening in your bed watching your comfort show and eating takeout.

an: i hope this as comforting for you as it was for me while writing. simon would be such a loving and comforting partner, and I deeply believe he'd study you and learn you so well that he can help. if anyone you love is having a meltdown, try to remove any extra emotional or cognitive labor for them.

[starandcloud]

Cuddling you

Dagur x reader Fluff

TW: Not really a trigger warning but this just how my disability affects me, not everyone has the same experiences

How To Train Your Dragon Mainlist

Mainlist

The ship swayed slightly as you sat in bed and read. Today had been Hel on your knees if it wasn’t for Heartwreck, your dragon, you may not have made it back. The crew had made you warm tea and every few hours they brought you a warmed blanket, you were so lucky to have them; you never once took them for granted.

“Sweetheart..?”

A voice broke you from your train of thought, you smiled softly at the familiar face.

“Are you, alright? The crew told me that your kne-”

Dagur was cut off by Heartwreck’s growl as he stepped closer to you. The defensive growl made Dagur back up, the dragon next to you had her teeth bared and ready to attack. Your hand gently rested on her head, soothing her. The great dragon quieted down, her scaly body flumped against the floor, signaling that she was at rest. Dagur took a tentative step forward and slowly sat on the bed. The mattress sank under his weight and you could feel his hand slowly rubbing your legs through the blanket.

“Are you alright..?”

He asked again, his voice soft as his eyes flooded with worry, watched you.

“I’m alright,” you reassured, “just a bad leg day.”

You promised as you carefully took his hand. Little white scars covered his hands and you made sure to carefully swipe your thumb over each one.

“Are you alright?”

You asked, your eyes soft and kind as you watched him slowly relax.

“Yeah I just… was so worried. All anyone told me was that your legs gave out during a training thing and that you were in here and… fuck…”

He cursed, slowly growing closer to your lips. You felt his breath dance over your face when he cursed. His lips met yours in such a gentle way you almost would’ve thought you were dreaming if it wasn’t for the fact you felt his hand gently take yours and his fingers with your smaller ones. The kiss was soft and sweet, his other hand traveled up your body and gently held your face. His eyes poured into yours, they held such love and affection it made his stomach hurt with how much love he had for you.

“Do you want to lay with me..?”

You asked as you softly squeezed his hand.

“Of course but… won’t that hurt you..?” Dagur asked, worry etched into his features as you gently laughed.

“Not if we’re careful.”

You said, and thus started the game of comfortability. Dagur was so worried he’d hurt you that you had to bully him into anything. Eventually you ended up laying on your back with Dagur between your legs, his face buried in your stomach as you ran your fingers through his sunset hair. And that’s how you two stayed, even when day turned to dusk, you stay in each other's arms. Happily wasting the day away

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could you do the follower bishops with someone who is wheelchair bound and loves to draw

Narinder

All he sees is a loyal follower who serves his vessel and praises his name, so he's indifferent to you being wheelchair-bound.

But out of curiosity, he examined how Lamb accommodated you through the Red Crown's eye.

They built ramps and wooden floorboards so grass/flowers didn't get stuck in your wheels, left an open space for you at the feasting table, and punish whoever discriminated against you or tried pushing your wheelchair without permission.

He's like "yes good,,,,inclusiveness will attract more to the cult >:3"

When Narinder himself winds up in the cult, he's moping around and avoiding everybody.

The other followers said you should prank him by rolling over his tail on "accident", but you aren't a fan of bullying.

Instead you roll up to one of his hiding spots like "hey, I have a small welcoming gift to cheer you up!"

He thinks it's "fertilizer" wrapped in a box, so he makes you open it.

It turns out to be a...portrait of himself?

You explain how you loved drawing your fellow followers, some even paying you and willing to sit still while you sketched their features in great detail.

"I hope it's alright that I took some creative liberties. I tried my best given how Leader described you in their sermons and........a-are you crying??"

"....what part of me made you assume I'm worthy to receive this? I almost killed you all!"

"Well..I like you better than our most recent dissenter who refused to listen to the Lamb unless they "cured" me."

"...ah, I see. So..what became of them?"

"Their body's still in the morgue pit. It's pretty messy...wanna see it?"

"Sure."

Leshy

Tbh he had no idea you were even in a wheelchair to begin with.

So when he first begins his farming duties within the cult, he hears wheels squeaking and thinks somebody's stealing the wheelbarrow from him.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going with that?! I need the wheelbarrow to-!!"

"Actually it's my wheelchair, Leshy. But you were close." You chuckle, assuring him you're not offended when he starts apologizing profusely.

It's a rather awkward first meeting between you two, though you both get along well afterwards.

Given that he's blind, it's hard for him to get around the base, too, so he sympathizes with you on that matter.

It took him a while just to focus on one person's scent at a time with so many followers surrounding him.

But he recognizes you by the smell of wood (different from the one he smells by the lumberyard) mixed in with your scent. So he always knows if you're approaching him.

And when he should stop so he doesn't accidentally bump into your wheelchair.

You've actually helped guide him around by letting him "push" your chair (he just holds onto the handles while you take him to different places so he can get a feel for the base's layout).

Leshy learns you love to draw, being disappointed he can't see the masterpieces you've created.

But you always describe them in great details for him, eventually deciding to invest in painting (specifically with acrylics) so he could feel the textures instead.

Heket

Caravans and carts have a difficult time traversing the swampy, mucky, and uneven terrain of Anura, so she's never seen a wheelchair user before.

When she meets you as a newly-indoctrinated follower, she just stares at your aid curiously, unsure of how to approach you and ask about it.

But since she has a constant resting bitch face, you think she's giving you a dirty look--and you give her one in kind.

"If you have something you wanna say, Heket, then-"

"..sorry.....didn't....mean...to...stare.."

Suddenly you remembered that she can barely talk, and you feel kinda bad for insulting her own disability.

So you cooked her a meal as an apology, to which she forgives you right away and warms up to you quicker than expected (though only bc you made great food).

She learns you love drawing and kinda wants to learn it herself. It could be a good way for her to better communicate her feelings.

Albeit her skills are.....novice at best.

She can draw runes, sigils, and demonic circles to perfection but drawing a simple frog is....tricky.

You give her some advice, and when she gets better through practice, you decide to draw portraits of each other.

Eventually she's comfortable enough to ask about your wheelchair, admitting she likes how you designed it.

Kallamar

He's likely no stranger to having followers with disabilities during his ruling of Anchordeep.

He may have been a ruthless paranoid bishop, but he's not cruel and has crafted mobility aids for whoever asked for one. Canes, wheelchairs, prosthetics--you name it. He even commissioned Kudaai for ones with weapon augments.

So he doesn't treat you any differently when he's indoctrinated into the cult, introducing himself like he would anybody else.

As narcissistic as he is sometimes, he's actually cool to be around.

But you feel like he only acts polite bc of Lamb.

While Kallamar knows you like to be independent, he's willing to help you out if asked.

Whether it's pushing your chair if your arms get tired, or to position it during a ritual you're attending, he's on the case.

The only con to this friendship is that he's deaf af and may have to lean down to hear you better.

But you don't mind it.

When he learns that you love to draw, he wonders if you've ever considered drawing him (he's far too shy to ask though).

However you must have a sixth sense...because you made him a portrait as a gift for a special occasion (aka the day the Blue Crown chose him as its bearer) and put it in a beautiful frame lined with crystal specs, leaving it wrapped up by his shelter.

After he sees it, he hugs it and rushes over to Lamb like "look at what Y/N made for me!!"

"That's nice, Kallamar-"

Do I have your permission to marry them?"

".....huh..?"

Shamura

They become an avid observer of everybody in the cult. Just to get a read on their personalities and what they do on a daily basis.

You're no exception, and they're impressed at how you get yourself around in a wheelchair.

Despite their damaged mind, it's still forever hungry for knowledge.

So they respectfully ask you how long you've had your aid and why, how Lamb has accommodated you, etc.

They're forgetful, but they hope to remember at least this for once and not have to ask you again.

You don't mind it at all, appreciating their politeness.

Whenever you're done with tasks and spend your free time drawing, Shamura often comes over to ask what inspired you today.

But one evening, they have a bad migraine attack while talking to you, forgetting who you are mid-conversation as they hissed, before skittering off....much to your bewilderment.

They couldn't sleep that night, wrought with guilt for acting that way in front of you, and the next morning they still can't remember your name despite it being on the very tip of their tongue.

They think it's wise to avoid you, but you track them down with a gift to assure them you weren't mad:

A simple portrait of themselves, signed with your name in the corner so they'd always have a reminder of you.

Least to say, Shamura hasn't forgotten your name since and is forever grateful.