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ladamedusoif · 3 months

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able

(Joel Miller x disabled F!Reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Disabled F!Reader

Summary: "I just don't think she'll be able for patrol". But then it's just you, Joel, and your trusty walking stick in the middle of nowhere...

Content/warnings: Reader is disabled (she has rheumatoid disease/arthritis in addition to panic attacks, she uses a walking stick as necessary); Reader had a sister; Reader is an art teacher; strong violence; blood; description of panic attack; references to impact of chronic illness and disability; references to medication; references to disease and death; non-canon compliant; Jackson!Joel; strong language; ableist language and abusive language

Rating: Mature; 18+ MDNI

Word Count: ~3.7k

A/N: After making a plea earlier in the week for people to actually write disabled Reader fic, as opposed to forcing writers to feel they have to tag literally everything in an able-bodied Reader story, I knew I had to put my money where my mouth was as a disabled, neurodivergent writer with various mental health things going on here and there. And this one-shot is the result.

This one is a little personal. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid disease about ten years ago, and Reader’s experiences are informed by my own (though, thankfully, I haven’t had to contend with an apocalypse that meant I couldn’t access the medication that has kept me going). She’s also inspired by @agentjackdaniels, who acted as consultant extraordinaire on walking sticks and panic attacks, and suggested the Joel picture for the moodboard. Thank you, Luce, for this, for fighting the good fight for representation in fic - and for beta-ing the story.

(A note on terminology: rheumatoid disease/arthritis are sometimes used interchangeably. ‘Arthritis’ often sounds like it’s ‘just’ osteoarthritis to people who don’t know the difference. Rheumatoid, unlike osteoarthritis (which is shitty in its own ways), is a systemic, lifelong, chronic illness and an auto-immune disorder that affects the entire body, not just bones and/or joints. So personally I use ‘rheumatoid disease’ as it conveys more of the impact of the condition. It's also often seen as an 'old person' disease but this simply isn't true - not that this stops mobility aids being modelled by people in their 80s all the time...)

Please follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to stay up to date with my work.

Dividers by @saradika - moodboard by me

You weren’t supposed to make it.

Twenty-odd years in the apocalypse with your fucked-up joints and no steady supply of the meds that kept you going, pushing through the cycles of fatigue, and fighting off your own goddamned immune system as much as you were fighting clickers and raiders.

You really weren’t supposed to make it. But you had Annie.

You were sharing an apartment when the outbreak happened, a quirk of shitty personal circumstances - she’d just broken up with her long-term boyfriend - that probably helped save your life. Annie was the all-action sister - the kind of person who thinks there’s nothing weird about spending your weekends doing triathlons and “Tough Mudder” challenges, who had a perfect bill of health your entire lives, who bounced out of bed in the mornings while you cracked and creaked and stiffly manoeuvered yourself into being.

The good days generally outweighed the bad in the years between your diagnosis with rheumatoid disease and the initial outbreak - or maybe you had just gotten used to the aches and pains and the occasional flare-ups of fatigue. You invested in a walking stick to help on those days when mobility was particularly bad: solid, heavy, and carved in a pale yellow wood. It felt like a comfort in your hand, more a sign of strength, to you, than of weakness.

Annie helped you through the panic attack that consumed you on outbreak day, working with you to regulate your breathing and relax your tense muscles until you could finally say what was on your mind.

“My meds. What am I going to do without my meds?”

Nothing a quick smash and grab at the local pharmacy couldn’t fix. It was the first of many, stockpiling the little yellow tablets you relied on and taking as many packs of over-the-counter painkillers as you could carry. Useful currency in the apocalypse, as it turned out.

All-Action Annie was never going to cope with life in a QZ. She got the two of you out after months of planning, nights of whispered talk about a town out west that was normal - or something close to it, anyway. She hadn’t entertained your protestations about you slowing her down, holding her back.

“You think I’m leaving behind a girl who’s so handy with a weapon?” she’d teased, pointing to your walking stick. “Be real. We’re busting out together.”

The infection took hold in her about three days from Jackson. Fuckin’ barbed wire, tearing a jagged line through Annie’s hand and leaving behind an old-fashioned kind of threat to life, the kind penicillin had mostly dealt with. But that was then. This was now.

She died in an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, you holding her hand until the end, talking to her about your childhoods and trying to keep smiling until she closed her beautiful eyes.

It took all your strength to dig her grave. And then, somehow, you found more.

You weren’t supposed to make it. But you did.

Jackson stands before you.

He sees you for the first time in the community dining hall, talking animatedly to Maria as you hungrily devour the food set in front of you. Eyes wide, face grubby, clothes ragged. Half-wild, he thinks, like most of the new arrivals. Like him and Ellie, once upon a time. He returns to his bowl of soup and his own thoughts - at least, until he’s interrupted by Maria.

“Joel? Want to introduce a new member of the community, just arrived.”

He doesn’t quite know why he’s surprised when he realises you’re leaning on a sturdy hand-carved walking stick in a solid, light yellow wood. Maybe it’s because he knows how physically hard it is to get here. Maybe he just assumed folks who needed a stick wouldn’t have been able to manage the journey.

For a second he can hear Sarah’s voice in his head, chiding him for focusing on what a disabled person can’t do instead of what they can.

“Joel?”

He snaps out of his reverie and looks from Maria to you. “Uh, hi. Sorry, just…sorry. Forgot my manners.”

“I was just saying how glad we are to have someone who can offer some art education in the town, isn’t that right, Joel?”

Your eyes are warm and mischievous as you meet his gaze, silently conveying your amusement at Maria’s rather brusque manner. It’s all Joel can do not to laugh.

“Sure is. You’re an artist, then?”

You shake your head. “Not a real one. I was an art teacher, before. Long time since I created anything, though, so I hope I remember how.”

He smiles softly, his gruff exterior receding a little. “Bet it’s just like riding a bike,” he says, before his face falls as he looks at your walking stick. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean… Shit. Hope I didn’t offend.”

“As it happens, I can ride a bike, Joel. The apocalypse just doesn’t give me much cause to.”

You leave him with a smile and a wink as Maria ushers you to meet other townsfolk. He watches you as you walk away, the tap-tap-tapping of your stick beating out a new rhythm in the heart of Jackson.

You think of Annie every morning when you wake up in the little house you’d been assigned. Sometimes, as you potter around the kitchen, still revelling in the novelty of making yourself morning coffee for the first time in two decades, you even talk to her. You tell her about the town, the townsfolk, your work in the community vegetable garden, your art classes.

“Honestly, An, you wouldn’t believe how popular they are,” you tell the Annie who, in an alternate universe, is sitting at the kitchen table with her own mug of coffee. “I’m setting up extra sessions to cater for demand.”

There’s something uplifting in how hungry the people of Jackson are to make art, no matter their experience or existing skill level. They’ll draw stuff from memory, they’ll dutifully work on a still life, they’ll even traipse outside with you, wooden sketching boards in hand, and make rapid-fire sketches of the goings-on on Main Street.

Joel doesn’t join a class - but the teenage girl Maria refers to as “Joel’s kid” does, all potty-mouthed and enthusiastic and pretty damned talented, to boot. Ellie tells you how she’s pinned up the drawings she’s proudest of in their home, “like our own fuckin’ art gallery or some shit.”

You pull up a tall stool and sit beside her, resting your stick over your thighs. “Joel’s got his guitar and those dumbass model figures he paints,” she continues, leaning around her easel and squinting at the woman who’d volunteered to act as a life model for this week’s classes. “But this shit? This is real art.” She adds a little highlight to the woman’s sweater and leans back to assess the work.

“You probably got exempt from patrols, I’m guessing. On account of the stick, an’ all.”

“Maria asked, and I signed up happily. I got all the way here, didn’t I? I’m sure I can manage patrols. And it’s the least I can do - they’ve even found me some of the medications I need.”

Ellie nods, somewhat convinced, and returns to sketching out the contours around the model’s jaw.

The day of your first patrol arrives. You bundle up and set out early for the stables, allowing extra time to get there on account of the flare-up you’d been experiencing the day before.

You arrive early - just in time, in fact, to overhear a heated conversation between Joel and Maria.

“She’s doing enough, ain’t she? I just don’t think she’ll be able for patrol.”

“You’ve seen her out and about, Joel. She’s mobile. She’s competent. She’s good with the horses. She got all the way here, the last stretch on her own. What more proof do you need?”

“You’re seriously gonna send a woman with a walking stick out on patrol?”

“I seriously am. Sent you and your bad back out, didn’t we?”

“That ain’t the same and you know it.”

“Just saddle the horses, Joel. And, in case you’re wondering - yes, I paired you together deliberately, just until she gets settled.” You hear her footsteps recede as she leaves him.

You had misjudged how much your already-limited grip would be further impeded by the gloves you’re wearing. The stick clatters to the ground.

“Who’s there?”

You emerge from the shadows. “Me. Sorry.”

Joel rolls his eyes and gruffly points out the tack and supplies.

The first patrol passes in silence. You wonder what happened to the softer man you’d caught a glimpse of the first day you arrived.

On the second patrol, you ask him questions about himself. On the third patrol, he asks (fewer) questions about you. By the fourth, you’re having something approximating normal conversation.

“Sarah loved to make all kinds of stuff,” he ventures, leading the way on his chestnut horse. “Those beaded bracelets, that girly Lego in the pink and purple, all of that. My girl had enough Magic Markers to supply a whole elementary school. Maybe two.”

You can hear him smile, even without seeing his face. His shoulders relax a little as he recalls the memory.

“So she was a creative kid?”

“Creative, sporty… she could do anything. Made the school soccer team, she was so proud. Just a…” He pauses. “A great kid.”

There’s a few beats of silence, punctuated only by the sound of the horses snickering and the steady rhythm of their hooves on the ground.

“What about your sister, was she arty like you?”

You’d told him about Annie on the last patrol. This was the first time he’d asked about her explicitly.

“She was the sporty one. I think that’s why I survived so long, truth be told. She was so strong and fast and tough as fuck.”

He chuckles, the burr of his voice resonating in the cold air. “Sounds like a good balance, though.”

“It is - it was. Was.” Your voice grows quieter as you repeat the word to yourself, chest starting to tighten. The horse slows, responding to the tension of your body, as Joel continues to trot on, not realising you’ve come to a halt behind him.

And then the tell-tale snapping of a twig, the sound of footsteps, and the realisation there’s someone else there, emerging out of the woods. Two someones.

Raiders.

The panic attack that has been building inside you gives way. An innate fight or flight response kicks in as you roar his name.

Joel turns and charges back towards you, just in time to see you take out one raider with a crack shot from your pistol. He slows the horse and readies his rifle, staring at the other man who is now trying to haul you off your mount.

“Get the fuck off me, motherfucker!” You flail against him, desperately shifting your weight to the other side of the saddle to try to shake him off.

Joel takes aim.

You think you’ve kicked the raider off. And that’s when you hit the ground.

He can’t take the shot now, not with her half-hidden from his view and audibly fighting off the man who’s dragged her to the ground. Joel is still a little distance away, slightly too far to see exactly what’s happening.

Why didn’t he hear her slowing? Why didn’t he realise she was further behind than she ought to be? Why did she slow in the fuckin’ first place?

Joel quickly dismounts, rifle in hand, moving closer so he can get a clearer shot at the guy who’s now standing over her. The horse’s elegant neck obscures the raider’s hands from Joel’s vision - he has no idea if he’s pointing a gun at her or not.

He thinks he has a clear sight on the guy’s head, provided he stays in the same position. He readies the rifle.

Suddenly, the raider disappears, letting out a primal roar before he hits the ground.

“You fucking cunt!”

Joel can see she’s standing now, the man prone before her. As he rounds the horse he sees her lift her cane, hands securely gripping the pointed end of the stick.

She brings the solid, weighty handle down on the raider’s leg with a sickening crunch. Even Joel recoils a little at the sight and the sound.

“F-f-fucking…c-c-cunt!”

Thwack. The other leg.

Fuck. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

”Keep calling me that, and I’ll keep the blows coming.”

Holy fuck. Who is she?

”C-c-c-cripple.”

”Excuse me?”

The raider props himself up on his arms. “I said, cripple. Fucking crippled cunt.”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth.” Joel cocks his rifle.

The stranger sneers at Joel. “Awww, he’s actin’ the big man now. Weren’t too quick gettin’ back down here to save your cripple woman, were ya?”

Before Joel can react, she swings her stick over her head and brings it down on the man’s skull with a furious scream that seems to come from the very depths of her being.

She screams and screams as she hits him, over and over, eyes wild in her blood-spattered face. Joel recognises this: in himself; hell, in Ellie. It’s the moment when the floodgates open and all those years of pain blend together and zone in on this convenient target, an avatar for everyone and everything who had forced loss and trauma upon you.

He roars at her to stop, but knows she can’t hear him. It’s just her and the raider, now: her rage and fear and grief finding their expression through a walking stick turned cudgel.

A single shot ends it. She turns sharply, as if snapped out of a trance, and sees the smoke leaving Joel’s pistol.

“Hey. Hey. You alright?” His broad hands grip your biceps as he looks into your eyes.

Yes, you tell him, yes. You’re fine. But Joel keeps asking.

“Talk to me. Are you okay? I’m worried about you. Please, just talk to me.”

You are moving your mouth, but no sound is coming out. The familiar vice is tightening around your chest. You look down at your blood-stained hands and you struggle to breathe.

“‘M dying, Joel. Can’t breathe. All the blood. So much. Why can’t I breathe?”

Oh, he realises with a pang. She gets these things too. And I know how to help.

“You’re okay, you hear?” He’s rubbing your arms gently, keeping his gaze on you. “You’re alright. Breathe along with me, okay?”

It’s difficult to find the rhythm, at first. Joel’s hands find yours and squeeze them in time with his breath.

”In through your nose, that’s it. Slow and steady. Now out through your mouth.”

He can see your muscles starting to visibly relax. A wave of relief courses over him.

”Yeah, that’s it - you got this. You got this, good girl, you’re just fine. Gonna be alright.”

When he’s confident your breathing has settled and the panic attack receded somewhat, he gently guides you away from the body of the dead raider, one hand holding your horse’s bridle and the other holding yours.

“Why don’t you have a seat for a minute, huh?” Joel gestures to a long, low tree trunk lying near the forest’s edge and opens his saddlebags, rummaging until he finds a cloth, a battered hip flask and a bag of dried apple slices.

”Here.” He wipes the blood as best he can from your hands and proffers the flask, settling his substantial frame beside you on the log. “Have a sip or two, just to relax you a little bit more. Got a snack, here, too.”

You flinch at the taste of the liquor, but take a second sip regardless. The apple slices barely taste of anything in the afterburn of the moonshine. Joel nibbles on some jerky and stares into the middle distance.

You take a break from patrol, agreed with Maria, and a few days off your art classes. It was tempting to keep going, to return to the light and airy studio and to your students. But you feared a relapse.

And your body needed to recover physically, too. You ached from head to toe, fingers and toes puffy and swollen and movement seriously restricted. You ration out the supply of medication you’ve secured since getting here, and use hot water bottles and plenty of rest to try to ride out the flare in your arthritis.

Three days after the incident, there’s a knock on the door. You hobble to answer it, leaning on your trusty stick for support.

”Came by to see how you were doing. Got you some things if you needed ‘em.”

Joel is standing on your front porch, holding a jute grocery bag. He pauses, as if waiting for you to give him permission to say more.

”That’s so very kind of you, Joel. Come in, won’t you? I was able to set a fire so it’s nice and cosy.”

He watches as you lead the way into the living room, noting how much slower you were today. Guilt laps at his conscience. He said she shouldn’t go on patrol. He knew.

”You want me to bring these into the kitchen for you?”

“That would be a great help. Thank you.” He’s glad to see you smile, after the trauma of the patrol. “If you want a drink, I’ve got some tea and coffee in the cupboard just to the left of the sink.”

He pops his head back into the living room. “What would you like?”

“A tea would be perfect. Mugs are in the cupboard to the right.”

You wrap yourself back up in your blankets on the couch, making room for Joel when he returns with the drinks and a couple of cookies, sent over by Ellie as part of his care package for you. The mug feels like a comfort in your aching hands, its heat assuaging the inflammation ravaging your joints.

He sips his coffee and you sit in silence for a little bit, watching the flames dance over the firewood.

“Have you, uh - you been okay, doing okay, since…”

Joel stares into his coffee cup and then looks at you, a little awkward. You smile, hoping to reassure him.

”I’ve been okay. Just the physical pain and exhaustion, mostly. And - well, you saw it. The panic. It can leave you drained.”

He nods and takes another swig of his drink. “I know. I - I’ve had times like that, too. Real fuckin’ scary, when you’ve never gone through it before.”

You study his face for a moment or two, noting the little scar on his temple, the lines on his face, the stern expression completely undermined by the warmth of his deep brown eyes. For an instant, he seems so vulnerable, this strong, tough man sitting on your little couch.

“I haven’t had an attack like that in a while. But then, I hadn’t done anything like that in a while.”

This time Joel turns to look at you properly. “Not your first rodeo, huh?”

You giggle at the turn of phrase. “Not quite. Let’s just say my stick did a lot of work over the last twenty years. He wasn’t the first to feel the brunt of it.”

Joel nods, and you feel strangely relieved that he doesn’t seem surprised. “Doesn’t get easier, though, does it?”

“It does not. Which is why it’s better to avoid having to do it.”

”I agree. Gotta say, though, I - I was worried you wouldn’t be able for patrol, y’know?”

You arch an eyebrow at him. “I know. I overheard you, remember?”

He blushes. “Aw, shit. Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I just didn’t want anything happening to you, what with your - condition, and all.”

You sigh softly, not really noticing the affection in his voice. “Most of the time, I’m fine. Y’know? I’m slower, but I do okay. I get tired more easily, but I manage. I didn’t come here to be a drain on the community.”

”You aren’t.”

”I know, but I want to keep it that way. I want to pull my weight. I’m able, Joel.”

He huffs in agreement. “Not like I’m a perfect specimen these days, either. Knees, fuckin’ back, deaf in one ear…”

You chuckle. “And you thought I wouldn’t manage patrol? Anyway, you’re not doing so bad, are you?”

He gives you a little smile, but that constant sadness still haunts his eyes. He stares at his coffee for a moment.

“You knew what you were doing, though.”

”I did. But I didn’t feel like I could stop.” You sip your tea, swallowing hard. “And I’m scared that makes me some kinda monster. You know?”

Oh, he knows. He knows it too well.

”You aren’t a monster.” Joel resists the urge to put an arm around you. “You just… something snapped, I guess. All that - well, all that hell you’ve gone through. It… it changes you. But it doesn’t make you a monster.”

He realises you’re crying before you do, spotting the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. He finds a clean handkerchief in his jeans and offers it to you.

Fuck it.

“Can I - can I put an arm round you? Just for some support?”

Your eyes light up, tears or no tears, and you nod enthusiastically. Joel is warm and comforting, his broad chest and strong arms a kind of anchor in the emotional storm. You nuzzle against him, and he gives you a little squeeze on the arm.

”You’re a really brave woman, you know that?”

His voice is quieter, more intentional. You look at him quizzically from under your lashes, unused to praise of this kind. For an instant you think about asking him what he means. But the safety you’ve found in the broad arm draped around you is all you need right now.

You nuzzle a little against his chest, and watch the fire dancing for the rest of the night.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x disabled f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #soft joel miller #disabled f!reader #disabled reader fic #hbo the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedrostories

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gamchawizzy · 3 months

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❗️Mutual Aid Needed🦐

Hello hello, I am Woz, I am a trans guy from the global south, and outside of my day job in corporate, I am an artist. I am the breadwinner of my family, and I also get my younger sibling through school.

For a little more than half a decade I have been suffering with bad mental health and suicidal thoughts, on top of trying to keep my family afloat with what I can earn.

I work two jobs to earn money, on top of tabling at conventions to be able to earn extra on the side. I am the one who pays all the house bills, some groceries, often having to send money to my sibling for school and sometimes tuition. Due to the constant pressure from overworking and the abusive social environment I have been exposed to for the longest time, I am now experiencing bodily pains, shortness of breath, headaches, worsening eyesight, and worsened depression as I clock in 10-15 hours almost daily (including weekends and holidays) trying to make ends meet.

I’m humbly asking for your help so I can get proper healthcare, which has been out of my reach for the longest time due to poverty. I was hoping to be able to afford help a few years ago, as soon as I got a job, but ever since the pandemic, the local price hikes just kept going, and going, until the matter was off the table entirely. The biggest reason why I am trying to get this moving now and as urgently as possible is so I can still receive treatment while I am still mentally and physically able to take charge of my own health.

While I’m still more or less able to function well enough to work, I recently escaped an abusive situation, which was one of the biggest causes of my misery. The fallout from this event brought on a severe impact on my mental health and I was subject to a cult-like shunning by my old community. This has caused me to develop suicidal thoughts again, which eventually led to several self-delete attempts, the latest of which almost succeeded had I not been caught at literally the last second.

At the moment I am stable again and in the hands of trusted loved ones, but I still do not have access to professional help and I don’t know how long this stability will last and the next thing might cause me to spiral again.

We already did some research on getting local help and have a plan in motion, all we need now is the funds to carry it out. The bulk of it will be for the initial consultations and possibly medication, and we’re hoping to have enough to get the ball rolling for a couple months’ worth of treatment as I get myself back on track.

The initial process will be the most expensive as I am suspecting to have an undiagnosed condition that I would like to have checked, as well as possible medication. I do not have a disability ID yet (but I plan on getting one once I get a dx on paper), so we may have to pay full price for initial treatments.

Currently, my primary goal for this would be to achieve psychiatric help, diagnosis, medication, and therapy.

If I’m able to save up for a few months of maintenance and still have extra left over, my secondary goal would be to finally get my knees checked, as I have chronic pain and the occasional kneecap dislocation in them. This has been left unchecked for more than 15 years due to both poverty as well as being outright denied healthcare by the adults around me due to them downplaying the problem. I am nearing my 30s soon. While I’m still able to walk and engage in physical activities without the use of mobility aids, I fear that the complications from this condition if left untreated will only take a turn for the worse as I age.

Direct ways to support me:

Paypal:

Ko-Fi:

I have prints! You can pick up some of my art here:

We do not have a set price goal in mind as it will be a months-long process of beginning treatment and maintaining it, but rest assured all funds received will be set aside for the purpose of my healthcare and well-being only.

I still cannot escape many factors of my life that continue to hurt me, but I am hoping that continuous treatment, therapy, and support will help keep me going so I can keep my family fed without me having to worry about my own health.

Any donation, big or small, helps me so much! Even just a dollar/peso helps, shares and reblogs too! PH Moots, feel free to ask for my GCash in private!

Thank you all for reading! I’m always grateful 😭🙏❤

#mutual aid #mutual assistance #reblogs appreciated!! anything helps 🥺#No deadline on this - we are hoping to start as soon as March/April but happy to keep receiving donos 😭#so sorry about all this but yeah it is a big reason why i haven't been drawing outside of work nowadays. so many Bad things added up

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b00ks1ut · 2 months

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I Got Your Back

Eugene Roe x GN!Reader

Warnings! Alcohol consumption, harassment, blood, mild violence, swearing, mild injury, my attempt at writing lol, I’m really hoping I got all the big stuff

This is based only off the tv series and I intend no offense to the real men of Easy Company or any veterans

Sorry if this is bad! I had such bad block while writing this and for some reason it’s taken me like 4 months to complete this short little thing😭 anyways I’m hoping it’s not horrible!

Also this was written for @executethyself35! Thank you so much for being so amazing and I’m so so sorry this has taken 5 and 1/2 years lol You’re amazing and literally the best <3

The bar was loud and stuffy and crowded, but it was fully of paratroopers, what did you expect? You were sat at a little round table, crowed with too many men; most now at least tipsy and all thourally enjoying the rare weekend pass that Sobel didn't take from them.

"You need another drink?" Eugene barely had to lean over in his chair to reach your ear due to the cramped situation that was your table.

"Oh, yeah. I'll get 'em this time, you got the last ones." You told him turning towards the medic sat next you, your noses nearly touching, and you had to almost lean back to stop yourself from bumping into him.

"No, I ain't gonna make you do that." He began to reach for your now empty glass but you quickly stopped his hand from fully grasping the cup.

"Please, I've gotta spend all this extra paratrooper money," you joked, pushing his hand away and giving it a quick squeeze. You quickly stood and grabbed his mug, not giving him a chance to object.

You had made it hardly 6 feet away from the occupied table, through the impossibility close crowd, when an unknown man had stepped into your path. You had attempted to step around him but it was no use, this man was a wall unwilling to move.

"I'm sorry is there a chance you could move please?" If he wasn't going to read your very obviously uninterested body language then he could hopefully read you as equally uninterested lips.

"Now how about I don't do that and instead take you home?" He was handsome in his own way, he definitely wasn't ugly but was certainly not your type.

"Oh no thank you, I'm just trying to get a couple of drinks for me and friend." You again tried to step around him but he kept moving in a step in front of you. You looked around hoping to catch someone's eye but for how many people were the damn bar you couldn't seem to catch the eye of a single you knew. "I'd really appreciate it if you just let me get my drink."

"How about if I let you get your drink, you'll owe me a drink." He was smirking to himself like this normally worked for him, intimidating people into dancing and sleeping with him. Now that you thought about it, maybe he wasn't just not your type; maybe he just wasn't everybody's type so he had to resort to this sad creepy behavior that definitely was getting him nowhere.

"They don't owe you a damned thing." The familiar Cajun accented voice had reached your ears before you were even aware he was nearby. "How about you get a move on now and we'll all have just a fine and dandy of the night."

"I don't think so no." This man was either the biggest piece of shit or was denser than fuck and you were certain it was the former. Before you could think of a response he had grabbed your arm and began trying to pull you away. As if it were second nature you took the glass in your hand and brought down hard on his hand.

The glass shattered. Pieces flying in all directions but most of the pieces finding their home in the back of the man's hand.

"You fucking whore!" He had quickly ripped his hand away cradled it in his other hand.

"I'm the whore here? I'm not sure what Not want to have sex with you makes me a whore but if it means you'll leave me alone then I'll make it a badge wear it on my uniform." You weren't sure where this attitude was coming from and you had nothing else to blame it on than your last few drinks and the current adrenaline racing through your veins.

The man was still standing there dumbstruck when you turned around to find Gene standing there. His eyes scanned across your face before leaping down the arm the man had just grabbed you by.

His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes became increasingly more concerned when he noticed the cuts on my arm from a few stray pieces of glass. His eyes flicked back to yours.

“I’ll getcha patched up.” He hadn’t left any room for argument but you might as well try.

“I’m alright, it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.” But by the time the reply had left your lips Eugene already had your hand in his and was walking towards the door.

“You can’t just leave them glass pieces in, it’ll never get better.”

“Fine, I’ll take your word for it.” Why complain when the most attractive man you’ve ever met was asking to take care of you. Only an idiot would pass that up.

Cool dark of outside was a welcome change from the stuffy pub and you relished in it, not having had a break from the heat of George in a while.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was just a low rumble and you weren’t sure if you were imagining it.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he had now turned around and faced you, still holding your hand. “I shoulda gone with you to get drinks and I shoulda done more. I just-“ He ran his other hand over his face before rubbing the back of his neck.

“Gene, you have nothing the apologize for. I was the one who insisted I get the drinks, I was the one who couldn’t get myself out of the situation. It’s on me, not you.” You gave his hand a squeeze and his arm a little tug, causing him to finally look at you after staring at this boots this whole time. “But none of that matters anymore, he’s gone and now there’s nothing to worry about.”

“What about your arm? I can’t let you just ignore it.” He was looking at you with such concern and care and all you could do was stare. Yeah staring is rude but how could you not? His short hair was sticking up in different places from him running his hands through it and the light from the bar was casting a beautiful glow that made his eyes sparkle in a way you never saw them before.

He was gorgeous. Not that you’d never noticed this before, but the realization hit you like a truck and it completely stole your breath; he stole your breath.

“Ma joie?” His voice brought you back, a flush spreading across your face.

“Huh? Sorry.” You realized you were still holding his hand, and finally let it drop. The warmth of the rough skin of his was quickly wicked away by the night air.

“Where’d you go?” He was looking at you like you mattered, like you were more than a body. More than a number. More than the shell that Sobel had been working you down to.

“Sorry… um just distracted. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you need help with your arm.” His eyes left yours to flick down to the still bloody and leaky cut of your arm.

“Oh. I can handle it on my own.” You were kicking yourself the moment the words left your mouth. The best man you’ve ever met wants to take care of you, and you can’t seem to let him.

“I really was just askin’ to be nice but there’s no way I’m letting you take care of this yourself. And I’m especially not letting you make your way back to base when filth like him are around.”

“I can hold my own, I was just wasn’t trying to make a scene in there.” You didn’t know why you kept making these excuses for him to leave you. You didn’t want him to walk away, every bit of yourself wanted to jump on him but a bit of you was too scared of just a little bit of rejection to have him just patch you up.

“I’m not doubting that you could but I am worried you might be a little drunk and that if I don’t help you get that arm cleaned up you’ll be nice and infected in a week.” He had a point, a good point he made a few times now. And what is there to be scared of with him. Eugene Roe is quite possibly one of the kindest most caring people you know what is there to be worried about, if you messed up and made a move he would react completely responsibly.

But for some reason you kept fighting it.

“I just don’t want to be a bother. Go have fun, Gene, I didn’t mean to upturn the night. I’m sure everyone is waiting for you in there.”

“Nope. Not a chance I’m leaving. You’re stuck here with me, and it’s cold and dark so while I’d love to continue this amazing little conversation I really think it might be our best interest to start the trip back to base.”

I was obvious he was done with the back and forth so you let it drop.

—————————

It wasn’t long until you were back where you needed to be. All of the light posts were turned on but no one was out and about save for the few drunk-ish men stumbling from barrack to barrack. Many of the lights to the cabins were on and laughter and conversation could be heard from the people within them.

Gene grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dark, unlit medic tent. The walk a short and easy trek through the mazes of buildings, as he seemed to know where the tent was and could get you there with his eyes closed walking backwards.

You quietly arrived to the temporary shelter and are met with… nothing. No noise, no startling smell; just more dark. And the awareness that you’re all alone with Eugene.

He continues to tug you over to a table set up in the center of the room. A few crates next to them that he immediately begins to rummage through.

“Can I help with anything?” Your voice cuts through the quiet, just barely above a whisper.

“No, I got it.” He pauses briefly to look at you, never really stopping his hands from sifting through the supplies.

“Eugene, please. I want to help you, how can I help? Even just a little bit, I feel like I’m just in the way.”

“You can help by sitting yourself up on that table there and letting me take care of you. That’s all I ask, that you let someone take care of you; even if it’s just this one time.” His tone was soft, his accent showing through the caring tone. He had grabbed all of the items from the crate and was just staring at you. Looking at you.

Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Gene set the supplies on the table and stepped to you. His thighs brushing your knees

Everything about him was stunning. From his heavily disheveled hair all the way down to his spit shined boots, he was perfect.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice had come out uneven and hoarse, barely audible even in the quiet evening.

“What for?”

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me all night and I keep pushing you away. I don’t know why, I think I’m just scared. I mean… we ship off in just a few weeks and then anything could happen. I can’t go getting attached to anyone; especially you.” You averted your gaze to the ground so you wouldn’t have to see his face when he realized what a horrible coward you are.

But, instead of him lashing out and leaving you his hand gently came to your chin, tilting back up, forcing you to look at him again.

“I don’t blame you for that. We’re all terrified, but what’s the point of being here if we’re not going to make the most of it while we can. Why die regrettin’ what’s right in front of you when you all you gotta do is reach a little and grab it. I’m scared that some of the best people I’ve met are not going to come back and I might be included in that but I’m also scared that I’m not gonna take the beautiful opportunity I have right now… with you.” His gaze was soft and gentle. He looked quickly at your lips before taking a small step back. “But I should probably patch you up first.”

“I’m fine.” You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him to yourself until your lips met. Eugene didn’t move, he stayed completely still. You quickly pulled away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t ask. I just assumed-“

His lips swiftly covered yours. You returning the affection. His lips soft and gentle against yours, still tasting of the ale he left back at the pub.

It was all over before you could completely let yourself get absorbed into him. His soft breaths fanned over your face as his forehead tenderly connected with yours.

“Can I get you fixed up now?” A playful glint in his eye, and a blush so bright you could still see it in the dark, adorned his face.

“I suppose I’ll allow it.” Your smile morphing into a smirk.

He picked up a pair of tweezers, from the pile he had set next to you, pinching them at you jokingly.

“Let me know if I hurt you.” He gently grabbed your arm by the elbow and maneuvered it to where he needed it. The contact from him, although little, had a fresh blush creep up your neck.

“I’m sure that I’ll be fine.”

You soon learned that was not true. Once he had gotten all of the biggest pieces out of your arm, his search for the tinier shards started. You tried to muffle your winces but everyone he’d stop and wait until your face had returned to neutral.

“Ma joie, please let me know when I hurt you. I don’t have much left to get but I hate to be hurting you, so let me know so I can stop it.” Gene had set down the tweezers so he could hold your hands.

“I’m not hurting. I’m completely fine.” Your lie was obvious but he was doing enough for you already that why would you interrupt his process just because you’re not completely comfortable.

“Alright then.” He picked the tweezers up again and got the last few pieces out, still pausing whenever you flinched a little too hard. He then proceeded to do the most gentle cleaning and wrapping ever performed in history. He rinsed out the area, dabbing away all the water like if he pressed too hard your arm would fall off. Then he wrapped it all up in a sterile bandage, asking if it was too tight every two wraps around your bicep. “All done!”

You went to slide off the table but his hands held you in place. “I thought we were done?” He just stared, emotion clear in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you again?” You surprised yourself with the question. You had been thinking the thought since it happened the first time just 30 minutes before.

“Of course you can.” His hands came up to your face, cupping your cheeks and lead you together.

I was the same but different from the first kiss. This one wasn’t hesitant or awkward as you tried to find your placement, you meshed perfectly. Your lips moving over each others in perfect harmony. Little puffs of air from his nose tickling your lashes, and the way he smiled into the kiss had you melting into his hands.

Your arms went up his chest to his shoulders, stopping to loop around his neck; your fingers curling slightly into his hair. All of Eugene was surrounding you, his smell, his taste, his entire presence was all you could comprehend in the moment.

He eventually pulled away, breathing heavy. Eyes slowly opening back up to look into yours.

“Thank you.” You don’t know why you said it. You were saying for the man that left you alone when he arrived. You were saying it for the bandage snuggly tied around your bicep. You were saying it for the breath taking kiss you just had. But most of all you were saying it for the man that was going to be there for you in every moment he could be.

“I got your back; through it all.” He squeezed your hips, his eyes never leaving yours.

“And I yours.”

#eugene roe #eugene roe x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #gn reader #hbo war #easy company #hbowar

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plentyoffandoms · 1 year

Note

Cody anon here, I’m excited to hear you’ll write for him!! Could you write something kinda angsty or enemies to lovers-esque? Like the reader being concerned about his peck injury before his match with Seth at Hell in a Cell and it resulting in an argument between the two, or the reader & Cody becoming a mixed tag team and neither one liking each other very much at first?

I’ll read literally anything you write, so if you decide to do something different and don’t like these suggestions it’s no problem! :)

Cody Rhodes x f/Reader

Main Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous Wrestlers Masterlist

Warnings: Some swearing

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

I hope you like it.

WC: 1374

Gifs & Photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @goodtimesgreatmemories 2nd gif @womenwwe 3rd @juliahart

Summary: Cody & f/Reader fight over his upcoming match with Seth. Cody wants to wrestle with his injury & f/Reader tries to stop him.

YN'S POV:

"Gahh! Why do you have to be so damn difficult?" I asked the man in front of me, crossing my arms over my chest, trying not to slap him in the face.

"I know my body YN and I know I will be just fine to wrestle," which just made me roll my eyes at the stubborn man.

"You are just going to make it worse. You even got told not to wrestle this weekend by medical professionals, but oh yes tell me you know your body."

I held up my hands in mock defeat as he just sighed at me. "Will you just let it go, for fucks sake YN, I am a grown-ass man who has wrestled through worse."

"And every single time you had to take a long ass time off to recover."

I would know this as I am head of the Physiotherapy for all the wrestlers here at WWE.

"I am doing this and that is final."

I wanted to stomp my foot like a child and throw a tantrum just because I didn't get my way, but I just turned around and left the man standing there with a smug smile on his face.

He doesn't get that he now has a massive target on his chest, literally. He can seriously fuck up his chest and every other muscle and tendon attached to it.

Cody can ruin his whole career just because he didn't take this one time to recover and he knows this, or he should know this.

But he refuses to listen to reason and I will have to watch from the back as Colby attacks him over and over again.

"What has got you muttering?" Bianca asked me with an amused smile on her face. I went to answer her but she just held up her hand and then placed said hand under her chin and a thinking stance.

"I got it, does it have to do with Cody 'the man who you say you hate but secretly love' being a stubborn asshole about tonight's match?"

"Okay, first off, I do hate the man, and secondly, yes."

"He is a Runnels YN, you know how hard-headed they can be."

"I know, I just don't want him to mess this up. He left AEW and came here and I don't want one injury that he has control over, to mess up not only this one shot for the title but could also end his whole career."

Bianca placed her hand on my shoulder in a friendly manner and gave it a quick squeeze, knowing how frustrated I am with him.

"Come on now Bianca. It is time for your appointment anyway. Gotta make sure you're in tip-top shape tonight."

CODY RHODES POV:

The moment she turned and left the room, I wanted to go after her and try and talk some sense into her but I know that isn't gonna happen.

When my medical reports came back and landed on her desk, she sought me out and asked me why I was even thinking about wrestling tonight. Why I couldn't give myself more time to recover, I tried to explain to her why, but she wouldn't listen.

YN knows how important this match is to me and knows that I have to prove to everyone here and the fans out there that I belong here in WWE.

I left AEW because of personal reasons that I have yet to disclose to anyone but I have to make this work here at WWE. I have to win this match against Colby or else people may just believe that I am some just washed-up hack.

I looked in the mirror and noticed that the bruise seemed to be getting worse, and no amount of makeup to help cover it, trust me, we tried.

"You know she is right you know?"

I looked and saw that Kevin was standing there, smiling at me. I just glared at him.

"You of all people should know that we wrestle through all kinds of shit. Why care so much about this one injury?"

"And you usually never give a damn when one of the medical staff gives a shit about you. Why her?"

I opened my mouth to give some lame ass excuse, but nothing came out. "It is time to move on from Brandi and you need to stop fighting with your feelings about this. That is why YN and you fight constantly. You two are more alike than you like to think."

YN didn't even look at me as I passed her to walk out. She would usually wish me luck, but this time she just stared down at her phone and refused to acknowledge me.

Colby and I wrestled with everything we had and in the end, I won. I held up my arms in victory, and I hope I didn't show how much I am in.

I walked backstage and YN was waiting for me, with a concerned but angry look on her face. She indicated to follow her and I did after a few moments of my friends and colleagues congratulating me.

Once we got to her office, she slammed the door shut and I could just feel the anger radiating off of her body.

She looked me over and tutted every single time I made a noise in pain. "Are you going to not speak to me this entire time?"

"Why waste my breath, Cody?"

"Ha, got you to finally say something," I smirked but that quickly left my face as she glared at me. She worked in silence for a bit longer and then told me that I could go.

"Any tips?"

"Just relax for a couple of days. Ice it and no working out. Don't be shocked if the bruise gets bigger and works its way down your arm and side."

I muttered a soft thank you and left her alone, contemplating how I can win back her friendship.

YN'S POV:

"Delivery for YN LN."

I closed my eyes and counted to five and said that was me. I was handed another bouquet. I thanked the Delivery Person and looked around for another vase or even a mug to place these flowers in.

Three days of flowers Delivery and Cody hasn't given up. I know he wants me to talk to him and I will, but damn, let me finish being angry at my own pace.

Three hours later, a giant Teddy bear was delivered and now enough is enough. I sent a text to him demanding he comes to my office.

His head was barely through the door and I was telling him to sit down. "I see you got my gifts."

"Yes and I forgive you, now will you stop the deliveries, please? I like flowers but not this much."

"Only if you go out to dinner with me."

"Fine." Knowing deep down it was a dinner between two friends.

"I don't think you are understanding what I am asking. I want to take you out on a date. No talk of work or wrestling. Just us, on a date."

"I am not just some backup because you are lonely Runnels."

"For the love of God YN, it isn't like that. I like you, fuck. I have moved on from Brandi and my thoughts are filled with you and you alone."

"You better mean it, Cody. I am no one's second choice," he reached across the desk and took my hand in his. He ran his thumb over my knuckles.

"I mean it. I have just been too damn stubborn to realise why we fight so much is because, well I like you. Kevin had to practically give me a swift kick in the ass to make me realise."

"One date Cody."

One date turned into three, which turned into two years of dating. Then one full of year of us being engaged and tomorrow is the day we get married.

We still bicker but it usually ends with one of us apologising with a kiss, and our favourite food.

Who knew one fight over an injury would make us finally come go terms with our feelings?

Well Kevin did.

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @anaeve @crowleysqueenofhell @thenerdybaker523 @nicoleveno14 @malakaiblacksgirl1989 @1rsolideranna @legit9thlunaticwarrior @melissahausen @wwenhlimagines @blaquekittycat

#aew #all elite wrestling #wwe #wrestler imagine #wrestler x reader #wrestler x female reader #female reader #reader imagine #reader insert #cody rhodes imagines #cody rhodes imagine #cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes x female reader #cody rhodes x f/Reader #cody rhodes x you #cody rhodes

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spectorbear · 6 months

Text

— strangers (soulmates) part 2

pairing: erwin smith x f!reader

summary: erwin smith was the embodiment of intimation, money, and power. and you were his personal assistant.

genre: office au; slow burn, smut, angst

word count: 1.4k

warnings/notes: swearing, no real warnings for this part; purely part of the slow burn of it all!

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masterlist

THE SUN HAD LONG PASSED THE SKY, leaving the blues of the moon to dance along the place. You were still in the office, finishing up last minute details before the weekend.

Work has been intense the past week. With several new (huge) business deals, new hires, and events planned… you haven’t had time to breathe. Erwin was at the peak of all things, which meant you managed both him and you. Usually, you and Moblit go out on Saturdays to relax and talk about literally anything other than work. But with everything going on in both of your departments, you thought about just having a relaxing weekend without leaving the apartment.

You went into Erwin’s office briefly to place a folder on his desk. It was always extremely clean and organized, with big windows overlooking the neon city. His desk was meticulously organized, paperwork stacked in specific piles and pens placed perfectly. Bookshelves lined the walls, full of thick books and sorted by author. He even had a few potted plants around the room.

You were just about to leave when you heard ringing. You checked your pockets; it wasn’t your cell or work phone. Twisting back around, you found Erwin’s work cell ringing on the edge of his desk.

Maybe you should leave it. But you were his personal assistant… you could just answer it and say that he was out of the office and leave a message for him. It must have been important if they were calling this late.

Deciding against better judgment, “Mr. Smith’s phone, this is his assistant.” You answered, placing the work phone to your ear and prepping a pen and sticky note. “Mr. Smith is not in the office right now, but I can leave a message for him.”

“I told you she’d answer!” Hange giggled on the other end. The music was loud, conversations of strangers muffled, and clanging of glasses echoed. They must be at a bar.

“What’s going on, Hange?” You asked, dropping your customer service voice and prepared pen. You were worried at first, thinking it was a work emergency. But, with them still being at the bar, you were more worried about a personal or medical emergency. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine!” Hange giggled. “Kind of! Levi is here! Say hi, Levi!” There was a pause with no reply. “Oh, he’s being annoying! Anyway, I think you should come here!”

You sighed. “I’m about to leave the office and go home, Hang. I’ll see you on Monday.”

As you were moving the phone back to hang up, Erwin’s voice made you pull it back. He must have been away, leaving Hange and their friend behind. “Who are you calling?”

“No one!” Hange giggled, their voice in a sing-song tone.

There was movement on the other side, a pause, mumbled arguing, and then Erwin Smith was speaking to you. “I apologize for them. I realize that I should not have left them unattended. Please enjoy your night.” He paused. “You are still at the office?”

“Yes. I was just leaving, but your work phone rang.” You answered, slipping into your polite voice that you always had with him. He was your superior after all.

“That was my fault. I must have left it when I returned earlier.” He replied. Another pause. Someone was saying something to him. “I do not want to bother you as you are leaving the office, especially after I had already told you to go home, but is there a chance you could bring me that phone? We are at Scouts and I might need that phone over the weekend. I apologize for this.”

You sucked in a breath as if you were just waterboarded and they released the cloth. Something about the tone in his voice automatically coursed through you. Like your body adjusts to being in the office and on the clock just by his presence alone.

“Yes, sir. I can be there in fifteen.”

“I appreciate it. I shall see you soon.”

You hung up.

And immediately called Moblit.

YOU WERE SHAKING AS YOU DROVE. Moblit had talked to you briefly, laughing hysterically at the thought of Erwin and Hange getting drunk with a college friend. He was doing something with his roommates, so he didn’t stay on the phone for long, and told you to catch him up on the “state of them” when you go out for drinks the next day.

You arrived at the Scouts bar and parked to the side. It was a Friday night, so there were plenty of people that littered the bar and the parking lot outside. It was common for office workers or college students to prowl the bar; it was even the usual spot you and Moblit went to on Saturdays.

Locking the car, you entered the bar. Scanning the crowd, you found your boss instantly.

He was a sunflower in a lavender field. Tall, bright, and commanding attention. He stood against a booth, leaning against the ledge meant for hanging coats. He was deep in a conversation with someone whose back was toward you. It was almost strange, seeing him talk casually and intoxicated. He was full of smiles, which brought a warmth to him that you’d never witnessed, and his arms crossed across his chest showed an array of muscles that you never noticed.

Erwin’s eyes looked up briefly and caught yours. He didn’t motion, didn’t drop his smile. He simply watched you as you navigated through the crowded bar towards him.

“Here’s your phone, Sir.” You said when you reached his side. You had to speak a little loud over the music, but he seemed to hear you just fine. He grabbed the phone without looking at it. His eyes were focused on you.

“Levi,” Erwin turned his attention away from you to the person he was talking to in the booth. “This is my assistant.”

You turned around to finally see the Levi person that was the topic of the day. He was nursing a Scotch, leaning back against the cushion of the booth. He was the opposite of Erwin: dark, glooming. But they both had a similar aura of authority. Something commanding in a presence that you couldn’t quite place.

“I see.” Was all Levi said while looking at you.

Your name echoed behind you just as Erwin was starting to say something. For a split moment, you thought that you might see someone you went to university with and mentally prepared for the “oh my God, how are you, what are you up to now?” conversation that seems to always follow post-grad. But instead, you were nearly tackled by Hange Zoe.

“I forgot you were coming!”

“Hang, I was on the phone with you less than fifteen minutes ago.” You couldn’t help giggling. You weren’t used to seeing them like this.

“You should stay!” They put their arm around your shoulder as you looked to your boss, who seemed to find the interaction fascinating. He still had his arms crossed, shirt sleeves rolled up just past his elbows, and he looked at you and Hange with a look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place. Interest? Confusion? “Have a few drinks with us!”

“It’s late and I am just getting out of the office.” You were so close to Hange’s face that you could smell the vodka in their breath. “I was only stopping by on my way home. Maybe some other time, okay?”

“Awh,” They pouted. Only for a moment, however, because they quickly found solace in plopping in the booth next to Levi and rambled to him about something you couldn't make out over the music.

“I should go.” You said to Erwin.

He finally stopped leaning against the booth and stood straight in front of you, revealing his full height. “Let me walk you out.”

You nodded, unable to answer. He nodded to Levi and Hange before leading you back to the door. You followed without a single thought, easily slipping into your position a few paces behind him. It was common for you to follow him like this. It was unspoken. Natural.

The brisk midnight air hit your face as he walked you to your car. The parking lot had a lot less people, but you could still see the stragglers and a few groups waiting on Ubers.

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to walk me out.” You told him, opening your car door but not getting in. He stood in front of your door near your headlight, placing his hands in his pant pockets. “I hope you have a good weekend, Sir.”

“You do not have to refer to me by that outside of work.” Erwin said. You froze. “Sir, I mean. You can call me Erwin. We are both off of the clock. You are not my subordinate or assistant right now.”

You blinked. You didn’t know what to say. There was something different about him tonight. You had always felt breathless around him, but now you were speechless too. You had never talked to him this much outside of work-related topics or at work until tonight. You’ve had brief conversations before, sure, but never anything that goes beyond something you’d have in your resume.

But tonight he told you to go home early. He worried about the amount of work he’d been giving you. He asked you to bring him something outside of work hours. He said the words “I apologize for this” to you. And now… now he was telling you that outside of work, you can drop the honorific you gave him.

Maybe he was drunk and you couldn’t tell.

“Okay.” Was all you could say.

He nodded as a confirmation that he heard you. He took a step back from your car, and gave a simple, “Thank you for bringing my phone. I’ll see you Monday.” before heading back into the bar.

please do not interact if you are under the age of 18. do not repost any of my works on any site.

#—posted by bear #aot #erwin smith #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith angst #levi #commander erwin #aot erwin #erwin smith x you #erwin smith au #aot au #erwin smith slow burn #attack on titan

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strugglinguist · 9 months

Text

I've had a realization, and I need to share it before I forget it. We need some context first, though.

My therapist and I talked at length about how to navigate the start of the new semester in the best way possible for me in terms of the change in routine, sensory issues, mobility needs, etc. She wanted me try to be proactive rather than reactive to the situations that arise. (She's a very good therapist.)

Sorry this is a long one. Click for more I guess...

For example, I have a heart condition called Inappropriate Sinus Tachycardia (IST). Along with what I like to think of as a medical license to be inappropriate at any time, it means that my heart will race for no reason. Sometimes it's postural like POTS, so I can stand up too fast... but I can also just... feel like I'm sprinting when I'm sitting very calmly. Imagine you sprinted on and off all day. You'd be exhausted at the end of the day, too! With meds now, it's a lot better than it was... so it's more like... I'm jogging throughout the day? The analogy has gotten away from me. 🤷‍♀️

Whenever my heart races, I get really hot and break out in sweat from everywhere. This would just be annoying, but I am REALLY REALLY heat-sensitive. It is one of the top 3 ways I will go into an Autistic meltdown. So my heart races, I get hot and sweaty, and then I can't focus on anything else. It doesn't take long for the situation to get out of hand. I know this, so I have a little desk fan I take with me to classes if I need moving air. This is when my therapist BLEW MY MIND! (She really is a very good therapist.)

She told me that the accommodations I had allowed for myself (sitting while teaching and a fan if I need it) would not avoid a meltdown because they are things you do to maintain equilibrium... if I'm already overstimulation, I don't need maintenance. I need to shock my nervous system back into maintenance. She said, "When you're overstimulated like that, you don't need a fan. You need ice." And like... yes duh! So I got one of those face rollers people use for their skin routine, and it was my "shock" to take with me. And it works AMAZINGLY. Seriously. Life changed.

After all of our prep, this week was a true gauntlet of a test. What was supposed to be a one day adventure of helping the roommate buy a car turned into a 7 day marathon of phone calls, discoveries, learning way too much about the state of car insurance in this country, and then finally getting everything in order for the DMV to close for a holiday weekend. It was also the first week of classes, so I was returning to my job that very loudly rejected me this summer. It's hopefully my last year in academia, so I'm feeling every emotion. Oh and my dad was in the hospital for an amputation. Basically... it was ripe for meltdowns basically every day. And let me tell you... not a one. This summer I've been having a meltdown about once a week. I can't... this therapist deserves all of the money.

Now for my realization! (Remember that was where we started?) I realized that in the past when I knew I was overstimulated and couldn't promptly exit the situation, I would try to dissociate and go to a happy cold place. Somehow, I had subconsciously bought into the idea that Autistic sensory needs are mental needs... and they are quite literally physical, nervous system needs. And when you treat them as such, and don't try to "just push through" the very real physical situation you are in that you are sensitive to... life gets exponentially better. Seriously. My life is so much better. I just needed to share. 😊

#actually autistic #autistic adult #IST #hEDS #disability #accommodations #workplace accommodations #realizations

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corrodedcoffinkid · 2 years

Note

Favorite Autism/ Adhd Eddie Headcanon?

i have a few- consider this my apologies for not writing much these past few days. i do not celebrate the fourth for personal reasons but the holiday weekend in general has kept me weirdly busy.

so, here are my favorite headcanons

eddie chews on everything

he has very frequent and very physical meltdowns

he’s a really loud crier. this boy deadass sounds like a siren when he gets going.

chews on his hair

chews on himself

chews on robin

tried to chew on nancy

chews on steve

insane amount of developmental delays

did not talk for a very long time

goes nonverbal regularly

he can’t sit still and bounces all the time

not bothered by many hearing sensory issues but rather textural sensory issues

please don’t buy him a shirt as a surprise present. because if he hasn’t touched it and deemed it appropriate, he won’t wear it.

same way with bed sheets

still wets the bed and was getting better until the vecna incident and now it’s bad again

bad speech impediments that wayne taught him to work through

if he’s really exhausted or overstimulated, those speech impediments come back

falls asleep on his uncle if steve isn’t around

literally you need to sedate this man if you are taking him for any type of checkup

HATES medical attention

will kick you. will scream at you.

please just sedate him, the medical staff will thank you

Do Not touch his guitar

seriously, don’t.

loves metal music and will play specific parts of specific songs over and over and over and over and

not a dog person due to their unpredictableness as well as the stink they leave behind on your hands after you pet them

rubs face on things

chews on his baby blankie to sleep

one time he got so into a dnd campaign that he forgot to eat or drink or use the bathroom for a really long time

during those extreme hyperfixations, wayne usually tells him when to use the bathroom or take a drink. will also fix his nephew a sandwich

don’t get me started on food sensory issues

jesus christ this man eats maybe 5 foods

and none of them are vegetables

peanut butter sandwiches are cool

peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are not

either speaks really loud or in a whisper

autism didn’t really have levels back then, but he’s a level 1 heavily bordering on level 2 due to his support needs

probably could live independently if he really, really tried but he doesn’t want to live alone

has kind of childish fears- dentists, dark, storms, shots

but also has really mature fears such as being alone

but he knows he’s got steve and wayne

he’s happy

#eddie munson #stranger things #autistic eddie munson #steddie #angst #eddie munson autism #steve harrington #fluff

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angelanimedesaray · 15 days

Note

📚,🥐, and 🦋for the truth and dare game!

Hellooo! It's good to see you, thank you so much for gracing my inbox 🥰 and for an ask game too, ack, it's been a good week 🥰

Okay! Yes! The questions.

📚 What's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

Okay, two things. 1) I am super old school, i like physical books, physical notes, i have three corkboars, index cards on pins with tags handing from them, stacks of partially used notebooks, and sticky notes literally covering the wall and desk and bookshelf within arms reach of the computer. So this is not a notes app entry, cause i dont use it, its the last sticky note i put on the wall. And 2) this is going to be spoilers for one of my series because it was dialogue that occurred to me for near endgame of one of my big stories. But I think the fact that it's massively out of context even for those actively reading the series because it's so far down the road HELPS.

So, having said that, what it was, is:

Erwin, thank you, for allowing me to step into the light and take this journey. Hange, I'm forever grateful for all your help in unfurling my wings. And Levi...everything I have ever been and could be, I give to you. The wind lifting my wings ever higher.

🥐 Name one internet reference that will always make you laugh.

Honestly, any good placed reference will always land right with me. I'm the fool that always quotes road work ahead, I can't help it lol. I'm also a sucker for Sanders Vines. BUT for this I chose a Tumblr post about video games from back in the day that is 100000% my playstyle in dnd and video games hahahaha (which one depends on how badly actual stealth goes haha).

"I love that there are two approaches to stealth games. It's either no bodies for the guards to notice or no guards left to notice the bodies." "No one can call the cops if there's no one to call the cops."

🦋 Share something that has been on your heart and mind lately.

Oof, um...it's hard not to get heavy on this one 😅 I mean, I've been thinking a LOT about the deeper topics of life, ngl, which makes sense with a lot of what's going on in my life right now. My dad's been having a lot of medical issues pop up, mothers day is tomorrow and I've been ruminating on a pretty deep letter to write her to go with some flowers I bought her, my brother LITERALLY just graduated high school and I spent the ceremony comforting my little sister whose distraught and told me she's going to be the only one left, like...oof. lots of thoughts about life right now on the one hand. On the other, funnily enough, just yesterday I was talking to my dad, who watched aot as well, and we were talking about the overarching theme of breaking cycles of hatred and how it unfortunately went over the heads of a LOT of people who end up in a twist of bitter irony further illustrating the point 🤷‍♀️, and that was a pretty deep conversation because of my dad's life experiences and what he teaches for a living now, so yeah. Pfft, just "light" over coke floats and tuxedo Sundays in a hidden corner ma and pop ice cream shop conversation, you know 😅

Coincidentally, this question comes at an interesting weekend cause it's been the weekend for heavy topics in Angel's head so far, and there's still a whole nother day to get through 😅

Thanks for the questions!!! I think this is the most attention an ask game I've posted has gotten and I'm loving it 🥰

Ask Game Here

#ask games #ask game

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rianafying · 3 months

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i’m having a really bad day emotionally. idk if it’s my period hormones or bpd but i’m just in a really sucky mood today. yesterday i recovered from one illness that i had since late jan. i’ve been desperately waiting to feel better and this morning i woke up with another kind of illness. and i’m doing my best to recover from this as well. and something triggered my abandonment response and im just having a really really hard time right now. and i can’t even freely talk about it to anyone or even write about it in my journal. i’m just. so sad right now. i’m not abandoned but i feel that way. i have been feeling abandoned for a while now and a small thing that happened last night really amped it up. then this morning i woke up with a crazy amount of physical pain and fever from said illness and im also severely dehydrated because i have been too upset to drink water so i’ve been forcing myself to drink lots of water all day. and had to take painkillers and sleep the fever off. all by myself. i hate being by myself. but it was worse when i was living with family back in bangladesh. somehow i felt even lonelier and more horrible there. lately i’ve had very little hope about myself and my future. i’m just going through a rough time mentally. so are my loved ones. i’m sobbing as i’m writing about this. this isn’t even bad. like it’s just my mental illness over reacting and my hormones possibly amplifying the negative emotions. but nothing terrible has actually happened it’s just that i wanted something and i can’t have it and even in my dreams, my desires plague me. it all sounds vague but that’s on purpose because i can’t openly talk about it. even when faced with much greater difficulty, i have handled things better but right now even though it’s not actually that bad, i feel exceptionally sad. i did my groceries. made the right decisions. i literally did my very fucking best today. and yet i feel nothing but awful awful awful. even some self hatred and self pity. i’m having a hard time trying to logic myself out of this one. maybe it just needs some time. the problem is that i don’t have all that much time to give. i have a class early tomorrow and it’s one of those classes that i really have to participate in and even though i normally look forward to this class, im dreading it right now. i dont have the energy to learn a whole bunch of things right now. and my friends invited me for drinks after classes, which is great but sucks because i literally have 5$ in my bank account to last me the whole week, and today was just monday. idk how this happened. actually i know exactly how this happened, i paid of my medical bills when i got paid this weekend. that’s why i have nothing left. but it’s a big relief. that i have paid off all my hospital debt. it’s a huge deal. and it’s done. now temporarily i’ll struggle a little but it’ll be okay soon. also it was just 11:11pm and i made a good wish. i’m going to try my best to bring it to fruition. rn im still a bit sick, and im not gonna beat myself up for having a bad couple of days. i know im doing my best. my best is not as good as other people’s but it’s mine. and i am choosing to go easy on myself. i’m feeling a fever coming back. the plan for the rest of the night is to maybe rest till my fever goes away. then watch the movies i downloaded w the library wifi, because guess what, i didn’t have money to get wifi this month. so i barely use my data and i try to download as much as i can at uni and at the library. it has been kind of good for me. to be off the internet mostly. this reminds me i should deactivate my instagram soon. idc if i loose my work flow. or maybe try to find balance between life offline and online. after i’m done resting and my fever subsides, ill boil some eggs and what not. i deserve to eat well. nvm im back to crying in my fetal position. oh god i feel so bad. i feel so bad right now. i can’t do anything about this. and the things that i can fix, i don’t. this is literally my life. crying about things i can’t control and ignoring the things i can control

this is the worst i have felt in 2024 so far. i’m so sad that it’s giving me a headache. i’m so disoriented and confused and tired and sad i don’t wanna do anything. i’m depressed as fuck. why does this happen to me. oh god i let a couple of hours pass, and i’m doing a little bit better. this is so stupid.

#personal #journal entry

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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esta-elavaris · 7 months

Text

Venting beneath the cut so I can build a bridge and get over it xoxo

Just found out my unhinged (derogatory) aunt has a bunch of time off work coming up, so she'll be here for 12 hours a day doing everything she can to pick a fight with me, including detailing every single way she thinks I'm going wrong in life (it's a long list), telling me I'm wasting my time with my writing and being delusional (she's never read a thing I've written), and just generally being a cunt. She's actually insane. I went to a party when I first moved here, had one glass of wine, and she started a rumour that I'm an alcoholic that still brings on rumours in the family the two times per year I drink.

She uses the abusive alcoholic I was abused by growing up as evidence for her argument, because it's "in the genetics", which makes me fucking sick.

Like in one conversation she will, in the span of 60 seconds, flip from "you're not even mentally ill, you fake it just to be lazy and weak" to "you're not getting any better, you clearly need to change your medication" (I literally did not want to be a live 5 years ago bestie I've gotten a lot better) depending on what argument suits her at that precise second.

Last time it got so bad that my grandfather, who never gets involved in arguments beyond sighing and shaking his head, actually lost it at her - shouting at her that she's looking for trouble and if she's going to behave like that she can fuck off home. But I can't even bank on that because it all just depends on whether they want to actually get involved or sit back and pretend I'm somehow in the wrong because I won't cause nuclear drama for everybody the same way she will, so I'm the safe bet there.

It's just fucking exhausting man, and I'm very open on here about how self doubt is the biggest thing I struggle with in terms of trying to make a career of this writing thing - like novel work is so slow because every other sentence my brain is just a constant stream of "this is terrible nobody will want to publish this you've wasted years of your life writing this thing" and it's absolutely a me issue and I have external evidence that it's not the case, but it's just something I'll be grappling with until it's actually done and a literary agent wants to take it on.

So like, hearing her BS on top of that is just not easy, it's exhausting, and I'm genuinely considering switching to a nocturnal schedule this weekend in the run-up to her being here just so I don't have to see her at all. In my old city, I used to break out in stress rashes all over my face the day she was set to turn up when she visited.

And if I just go out all week to avoid her, she will use it as an opportunity to root through my belongings 🙃 it's happened before.

#ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #ok vent over i'm fine

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safetycar-restart · 2 years

Note

omega!max is known to be super grumpy around the paddock when alpha!reader isn’t there but when reader is there he melts like butter! so sweet and cuddly and clings to them! i’m talking sitting on their lap, playing with their hands and cuddling into their neck and god forbid anyone try to take him away… he will literally scream and cry until you calm him down again

Oh god you’re so right!! I never thought I’d be obsessed with soft omega max but honestly... I really am. This ended up being so long because I am Obsessed™️. Send me more clingy omega!max thoughts, I beg you.

So I think the main reason max has always been a grumpy omega is that he’s always trying to resist his instincts? The only way he’s managed to do that is just to be the most unapproachable person ever because if he’s nice, then he might accidentally purr or nuzzle or, heaven forbid, ask someone to nest with him.

So he chooses to be grumpy and mean instead, because that’s safer. There’s no chance of him embarrassing himself that way.

The problem is, he can’t do that with you. He’s never been able to resist his instincts around you, from the moment he met you he became a classic needy omega.

At first he was absolutely mortified about that and tried his best to avoid you. But you weren’t about to let him slip through your fingers.

It would take max a long time to be comfortable with having you come to race weekends with him, because he knows he won’t be able to control his instincts around you.

But eventually it reaches a point where max can’t stand race weekends because he has to be away from you. He truly is a very needy omega, wanting your reassurance and touch and scent all the time.

Maybe he asks you to come with when it’s a triple header all away from Europe? So he knows he won’t be able to see you at all during those three weeks and the thought alone is enough to make him panic because he knows he can’t do that long, he just can’t.

Of course you agree to come with, you’ve hated not seeing max for those few days every weekend too, but you’ve tried not to pressure him because you know that pressuring max would make him run away, and you don’t want that.

So you go to your first race weekend with max and even though you keep very much in the background, max still finds you and clings to you.

The entire paddock is in shock because they can’t believe how happy max is?? He smiled at the merc guys when he entered the paddock because he was holding your hand, the poor mechanics nearly had several heart attacks.

And his own team don’t know what to do either, Christian very nearly called the medical team in when Max showed up to a briefing early and happy.

He’s always at your side, or more accurately, you’re always at his. He’s always looking for you, making sure that he knows exactly where you are if he can’t be right next to you.

The moment the team realises that you make make max so much easier to deal with, they don’t bother trying to get max to attend strategy meetings on his own. He’s going to tell you everything they discuss anyway, so they may as well let you join them and have a happy max.

Max loves sitting on your lap!! He sits on your lap, talking happily to the strategy team and listening attentively to the brief from the marketing team and even begging through a speech from Marko without complaint all because he was sitting on your lap, could lean back and get nuzzles whenever he wanted them.

Of course there are times when you can’t be with him, when he’s in the car or doing media or the drivers parade. But before he does those things, he tucks you away in a nest? He basically hoards you.

And the nest must be perfect!! He works so hard on it because it’s for you. And you MUST stay in the nest the entire time. He’ll be so upset if he comes back and you’re not in the nest.

Even during races, he still wants you in a nest in his drivers room, not in the garage. Cause no! You’re his alpha!! His!! You must stay in his nest!! You can come outside with him when he gets back, he’ll take you anywhere in the paddock that you’d like to see.

And yeah, no one can try to take you away. He will simply not be able to function. Nevermind grumpy max, it will be sobbing and screaming max, begging for his alpha.

Needless to say, the team begs you to come with every weekend.

#omega!drivers #omega!max #mv #gn!reader #soft soft vibes

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theladyofbloodshed · 8 months

Note

I struggle with a similar situation with my partner where his low mood really impacts me and in constantly trying to keep up both happy which is draining… how do you cope with it? Do you have any advice?

I'll put this under a read more.

For us, I have to be quite blunt sometimes. We have a phrase "miserable blob". Sometimes I'm like baby are we going to be a miserable blob today or do something about that? I call him that because at weekends sometimes he will just sit there and stare at nothing or it takes him 30 mins to motivate himself to like make a drink. He hates being called that so it snaps him out of it a little bit, or he makes a conscious effort to try and snap himself out of it.

Sometimes I have to be tough and say get on with it, do x, y, z that you need to do then you can zone out.

For my partner, a lot of the issues come from the fact he doesn't like our flat (or England, hence the upcoming move) so some days I just need to get him out of the house. We go for a walk, go for a cup of tea, or visit my sister, just so we aren't in the house but then it's like a big, grey cloud is descending when we get close to home again. Some times, I nurture that depression and we will have a day watching films and cuddling up or we will try and talk about things.

When we first met, he started to experience panic attacks and he used to call me. I was quite firm that I cannot be his only support as the guilt I'd feel if I couldn't get to the phone and something happened would drown me. I made him go to the doctors despite him not wanting to. But I think you just have to be firm. In his country, mental health isn't really talked about and he would not let any of his family know. He eventually went on medication and hated it. It was a battle to get him to take his tablets and in the end he took himself off of them, which I wasn't happy with, but he knows his body best. I did make him tell his family too because I reiterated that I can't be the only one responsible for him, and that his family love him and would want to know about this. I think I used the analogy of a broken leg - nobody would expect you to walk on it and people would want to help you.

He did do online group therapy and hated it because every week was a battle to get him to log on, but after 2 suicide attempts I told him that I couldn't stay with him unless he went to therapy. I cannot be responsible for my mental health and his. He needs to take ownership of it. It was a hard conversation but I got through to him!

A lot of his stress came from owning his own business. When he quit that, it was even more stress because he literally went home for 2 weeks and was like okay i'm not doing it anymore, came back to England and had no job/income. He'd also invested all of his money into the business so he had a lot of feelings of failure. Now he works a 9-5 job he doesn't really enjoy but he isn't stressed about ensuring he gets an income every day, he is turning off his work brain at 5 rather than spending all evening on the phone calling customers and re-arranging his whole day to suit them, no weekends etc. Removing that stress has had a big impact because he could be very irritable and snappy with me then regretful of his behaviour.

We've had a lot of ups and downs due to his mental health and it is hard. I grew up with a mum who had depression and also made several suicide attempts, so it wasn't really anything new to me. I'm always calm in these situations and quite rational which I guess helps when my partner is having panic attacks. He'll tell me he can't see and his heart has stopped beating, and I'm like yes you can, it's in your head, you need to breathe in.

Sometimes I'll just say to him can you go for a long bath or a walk when I know he needs that to chill out - or if I need time away. We've been together long enough that I can say I'm going for a walk and if he asks to come too, I can say no I'd like to be alone and listen to music.

TLDR: be firm with your boundaries, be calm and rational, look after yourself too.

#anon asks

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callmejudgement · 24 days

Text

UA University Script

About Me

Name: Mako 魔子

Trickmaster hero – Miss.Magician

Age: 18

Birthday: ??? Letting fate decide fr.

Height: 5ft 7in

Quirk: Magician - Flame jumping,illusions, historical projections, damage transfer, steel card, air bullets, paper figurine substitutes, underwater breathing trick (more on my quirk here)

Physical abilities: incredible balance, coordination, flexibility and agility. Danger intuition.

Backstory: I literally just grew up in a happy family. Living rich and lavish. My dad is a retired top pro hero and my mom is an underground hero that works for the government. I have an older sister following in my mom’s footsteps and older brother whom is a researcher. My family often trains together and we do a lot of family activities together. I’ve been friends with Shinso since middle school and I was close with Shotō for like a year in elementary school. We’re literally twins with our heterophobia and dual color hair 👁️👅👁️.

My goal in this reality it literally to be my silliest, most autistic self. Literally me if I never started masking so people wouldn’t call me weird.

Plot (or the lack there of)

The war arc doesn’t happen. I’m not dealing with allat.

Bakugou doesn’t get kidnapped and faces appropriate consequences for his actions and behavior (I’m talking about him being a bully).

The other students quirks are stronger (I hate that Bakugou had it easy. I’m a purebred hater).

Momo was trained and is more skilled at using her quirk (she’s rich why didn’t her parents hire a trainer for her canonically?)

Tenko’s mom leaves with the grandparents and his sister before he loses control. He now attends UA.

OFA is still out there plotting I guess.

Fusions (borrowed idea from priicklleshifts on tiktok).

Overhaul is good and works at UA in support heroes/medical.

Eri is not abused and has a decent relationship with Chisaki even though he is an overworking germaphobe.

Events like the sports festival only starts to happen at the second trimester (bc why tf did it happen on like the 2nd week of school?)

Japan

Due to its high safety and previously low birth rate, Japan now has many immigrants from all over

Super high tech I’m talking holographic screens, robots in the streets, virtual reality, etc

There’s a National and international tournament where schools compete to see who has the best upcoming heroes.

UA is a university because why are them kids fighting?

Amenities

Along with what appears in the anime there is:

A spa on campus that is free for hero course students. They offer normal and medical massages, mud baths, meditation, sauna, steam room, lounge, ice fountain, treatment rooms and other beauty and wellness services (yes, I'm going to abuse this).

There is practically an extra little town on the mountain with the school due to all the school amenities and staff.

Massive library with study rooms n stuff.

Lots of school festivals, dances and other events.

Classes

UA Departments: Hero, Support (fashion, tech, etc), Business, Gen Ed.

There’s home room which is where you spend most of your time. We do gen Ed and hero law stuff with our home room.

Students can take any electives ranging from costume design to home ec, Solo training to costume engineering.

Students are encouraged to try out things through electives and clubs.

There are free lifestyle classes on weekends so you can take a quick class on cooking, sewing, gardening, first aid without the commitment or worry of grades.

Everyone gets a free holographic tablet thing for the schedule, note taking and to access the school app thing.

The app lets us access the dorms if we don’t have a physical I’d on us, order at the school restaurants with free delivery from the campus delivery bots. It’s just has a bunch of handy features.

Class 1A

Shinso replaces mineta.

There are also 5 exchange/international students in our class.

We go on a few international field trips throughout the year.

There’s a pool table and conversation pit in the dorm.

Mina is blasian, Midoriya is half Yemeni and Sero is Latino because I said so.

Merch

School spirit became a big thing with the influence of American immigrants and exchange students (America ya! :D).

UA has school jackets, shirts, jerseys, etc.

The gym uniforms come in different styles and lengths to suit the wearer.

Food

Instead of one lunchroom there are many dining halls around campus. If you’re a boarding student then food is free.

The restaurants have a certain numbers of items you can pick from to create a reasonable meal. Anything extra you have to pay for.

Some of the halls have larger portions or all-you-can-eat to accommodate for stunner quirks and different bodies.

Diverse food culture. (Indian, American, Chinese, Japanese, Mexican and other style foods)

There are mini break rooms around campus for students to relax,study or mingle between classes. They have free snacks (onigiri, chips, fruit, juice,etc).

There are self driving busses that drive students to the area in 10min max.

There’s also food trucks on campus (I am not being greedy. This is 100% necessary).

#mha shifting #shiftblr #shifting community #reality shifting

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