#disabled reader

[hexcii]

A lot of people want to clean their wings and fur! And who am I to say no? :]]

@party-snake @r0tting-rat and a lovely anon! <33

[chaithetics]

Aw Mono, I'm so sorry to make you cry! I'm really glad you enjoyed this, disability rep is so important and it's important in these spaces too. I hope it's a nice comfort for in the future too! Thank you for reading and reblogging!

Oscar Isaac Characters x Reader with Tics HCs

Pairing: Multiple Oscar Isaac characters (Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, Marc Spector, Nathan Bateman, Richard Muñoz, Anselm Vogelweide, Miguel O'Hara) x GN reader with tics. Request: Oscar Isaac characters helping reader on a bad tic day? Word count: 2.6K Dividers by: @saradika-graphics Warnings: Mentions of tic attacks and injuries, no physical descriptions, reader has tics but no specific tics disorder. Tried to keep this fluffy. Not proofread! A/N: Thank you for this request and for sharing your experiences with me! I hope you and everyone else enjoy it. Dear Americans, I used an english word and candy not sweets! (that's why it's in caps!) Comments and reblogs are appreciated!🫶 More disabled reader fics.

Steven Grant

Steven’s always patient and gentle and he’s been that exact compassionate way whenever you’ve had tic attacks, he’s there for you and doesn’t put more attention or pressure on you when it happens. He’s never made you feel bad or embarrassed about having tic attacks or when you’d have clapping your hands or clicking your fingers in public, he’ll only bring attention to it to check in on you when you look uncomfortable, in pain or he can tell you’re having a tic attack. Steven tries really hard to understand what’s like for you and how to best support you, he’s never seen it as a chore or a burden, it’s just one of his many acts of love.

When you’re having a tic attack he’s immediately at your side, his eyes flicker around to see if there’s anything you’ll injure yourself on. Steven then moves things around a bit frantically and helps you however he can and in ways that you can communicate in the moment or have talked about in the past. Steven tries to use distractions as a way to provide some relief and break the tic attack. He’ll start gently asking you questions about your day, he’ll tell you about the newest facts he’s learnt and books he’s read about ancient Egypt. 

He keeps a container stocked to the brim with different fidget toys and he’ll get them out to help distract you and hopefully help break a tic and prevent you from hurting yourself. He has chewable fidget toys for tics involving biting or teeth grinding, ones for you to squeeze and hold in your hands to try and help with the motor tics in your hands and arms. Steven does everything he can to give you some kind of sensory and mental distraction to try and help while you’re going through an attack. Afterwards he’s more than happy to make you a cup of tea with some biscuits and bring all your favourite snacks to cuddle in bed. He’ll also keep the container of fidget toys nearby and he’ll fidget with them as well as you rest and share snacks.

Richard Muñoz

Richard was your sweet neighbour, you’d seen him walking his cute little dog Bianca before and had done the neighbourly thing of waving to each other when you saw each other in your driveways. Neighbourly things, but you hadn’t interacted for a real conversation or anything like that until one day you’d been having a terrible day. You’d had constant physical tics, your body was in pain and all your muscles ached. You’d been coming home and you had to stop and sit in your front yard right by the driveway and take deep breaths. One breath in, another out, you tried to focus on your breathing in order to not think about how you felt like you were going to collapse. You squeezed your eyes shut as your arm waved out and your shoulder spasmed. 

Richard had noticed you being outside, he hadn’t seen you just sit down like that before and as he looked closer he couldn’t help but see the discomfort in your face. Richard will debate for a moment if he should approach or not because of his anxiety. But he’ll decide to pop out to check on you, Richard will come outside and ask how you are. 

As your body shudders and his eyes widen a little you try to explain as quickly as you can with the few words you can speak. Richard’s an empathetic person and he’s used to stressful situations because of his work environment. He crouches down and asks if you’d like him to stay. You shudder again and give a small nod seconds before your neck painfully spasms. 

Richard sits with you the whole time, he’s great at being a calm presence, you’ll quickly learn. After your tic attack has finished he insists on you going next door to him so he can cook for you so you can get some good nutrition and soul food and have someone around in case you need it. 

It’s not long before you know Richard well and get together. He’s a calm, supportive presence during all tic attacks and he listens to you talk about your tics and what the attacks are like. After you’ve had tic attacks, Bianca will sit in your lap as a fluffy weighted blanket if you’re feeling up for it and if not she’ll sit near you in silent support. Her and Richard have both become big fans of you. 

He makes you his favourite meals and he’ll sit with you and play telenovelas on his television while you sit on the couch. It’s a nice distraction and he’ll explain the elaborate plots of past episodes and seasons you’ve missed while you watch, his eyes get wide and light up each time he does. You give him just as much comfort as he gives you, if not more.

Jake Lockley

His brow immediately furrows in concern as he sees you. He worries that you’re having a bad tic day because of stress and he’s a man of action. He wants to be practical with his support while also pampering you and making everything that he can easier for you. Everything. 

As he tries to help you lay down without getting in your way or putting too much pressure on you, he moves the bedding around in order to create a soft cosy nest in the bed with blankets and pillows for you to rest in but he carefully arranges everything to make sure that nothing could end up as some choking or injury hazard. Jake’s listened to you speak about your lived experiences and been around long enough to know that fatigue makes your tics worse and that having tic attacks is also extremely physically and emotionally exhausting. 

Jake hopes that some rest might help ease up the tics and that if you’re more comfortable it’ll make it easier to feel better. Jake also knows that this is much safer than being on the couch or sitting down somewhere, your muscles are seizing up and spasming, he’s not going to have you fall or injure yourself. 

“Ay, mi vida…” Jake softly whispers as he watches you, he gently caresses your trembling arm with a feather light touch as your neck jerks to the left. 

It hurt, it really did. It was sore and you already knew that because of the pain and deep ache in your neck from all the neck spasming and head jerking from this tic attack, that you’d feel the pain and then be reminded of the tic attack and it would come back later. 

“Just take some nice breaths for me, amor… It’s okay. It’ll pass.” Jake whispers softly, his voice is so gentle as he watches you and he keeps gently caressing your arm as you lay there in bed. You try to take some deep breaths, to regulate your system to the best of your ability. 

After one of the longest 30 something minutes in your life, the tic attacks ends and you close your eyes, inhaling a deep shuddery breath before you open them and he looks at you smiling. You give him a small smile when you can manage it. Jake spends the rest of the night pampering you in bed and encouraging you to rest. 

Nathan Bateman

You were sitting on the floor in one of the many living room-esque spaces in the secluded compound, the only air your body would let you breathe in were short quick breaths, the air never making its way all the way down and you knew it was just adding to the stress. 

You’d been grunting for a few minutes and your jaw ached, it would be no surprise if a bruise appeared over the next day. It wouldn’t be your first and it wouldn’t be your last. A motor tic attack had come on and you’d been punching yourself. You felt woozy as it came on and knew it was best to sit down. As your muscles spasmed and ached you felt like you were going to collapse. At least Nathan had plush carpet installed in this room, it made it feel the tiniest bit safer than if this attack had started in one of the more colder parts of the compound. 

That was how Nathan found you, sitting on the floor, tense, teary eyed and witnessing you just punch yourself. Nathan’s eyes widened and his brows shot up higher in concern. He could tell you were having a tic attack and a more harmful one. Nathan was a certified genius with all the headlines and degrees to prove it, when he’d met you and you’d told him about your tics and what that looked like for you. He nodded, mentally noting down each word you’d said. Nathan had then read every peer-reviewed journal article to ever been published and was impressively educated on tics now. He still let you lead how you wanted to go about things though. 

Nathan pulls some of the cushions off of the sofa nearby and puts them around you to try and help alleviate some of the physical and emotional stress your body is going through. He gives you space though, knowing that any physical touch or hovering just wouldn’t help right now. After a moment he leans back on his heels and then speaks to the impressive system built into the house and your favourite song starts to play. He hums quietly to it as a low stakes distraction. 

“Just some nice deep breaths for me, love,” he says gently and looks at you earnestly. The tone is too gentle for his usual arrogance, it’s moments like this you remember he’s human, just another AI humanoid in a closet. 

You take some breaths, slowly your body starts to relax and you feel better. Nathan picks you up to lay you on the couch, he kisses your forehead and then goes to the kitchen for a brief moment. 

“Here, your blood sugar is probably low and your brain- nevermind, just eat.” He says once he’s back and places a tall glass of juice down on the glass coffee table and a bowl of CANDY near you. 

Nathan then sits down at the end of the sofa, placing a comfortable cushion onto his lap for you to rest your head on and a fuzzy, warm blanket over you as he caresses your cheek gently.

Anselm Vogelweide

Your body had been spasming, you didn’t know how long it had been going on for but one spasm on its own was terrible, let alone feeling your muscles tense and then untense before tensing up again for at least minutes. Your body wasn’t giving you any respite as this happened. “Oh my sweet, dear.” Anselm says as he walks into the bedroom and sees you in bed like this, your muscles spasming and your face coloured in discomfort. 

Anselm doesn’t touch you during your tic attacks, especially when you’re experiencing muscle spasms but he’ll always stay nearby and wait. Watching, he grimaces whenever he sees you in pain, due to his long history of chronic pain he understands the physical toll this takes on your body and he takes it seriously. He’ll stay with you and support you however he can, he’ll softly speak about his latest winnings and some business that’s definitely all legal. He’ll communicate with you on what you need based on what you’ve talked about in the past and what’s manageable for you during each tic attack, whether it’s you speaking, or nodding or moving a finger. 

Afterwards, you’ll lie in bed and he’ll offer to gently massage any limb that’s sore from your spasms and if you want acupuncture or a more professional massage therapist than him, he’ll have some renowned practitioner (that he’ll have a unique connection to) at the estate before you can blink. 

“Oh my dear, whatever you need is yours. Always.” Is what he’ll say to whatever you need and then his staff will come in with water, your favourite drinks and snacks so you can rest, eat, and hydrate to replenish any spoons you’ve lost.

Miguel O'Hara

Miguel’s done plenty of research on tics, he’s listened to every word you utter and experience you’ve shared and then read thousands and thousands of journal articles and textbooks. Technically speaking, he knows more than any of your doctors but you won’t tell them that.  

Miguel immediately knelt down as he went over to see you. He had noticed that you’d been snapping your fingers often earlier that day but here you were, shaking and snapping your fingers and squeezing your eyes shut. His red eyes focus on you as he thinks, he quickly leaps over to a desk and finds a stress ball and a first aid kit. He gives you a stress ball to try holding, hoping it’ll help with your tic. 

It’s not easy to hold but it’s helping a little, as it slows down slightly he asks if he can try putting band-aids onto your fingers, you’d both talked about it before. You shudder and give a small nod, with Miguel’s extra-human gifts he does it in a blink of an eye, quicker than humanly possible and with so much ease you barely notice. Something for the better and something that’ll hopefully help with preventing your fingers and hands from getting raw and sore. 

Miguel has Lyla play a breathing exercise audio that’s been tailored just for you to help you focus and regulate your breathing to help with the tic attack. After your tic attack is finally over, Miguel has your blood pressure and other vitals checked and then gives you a tall glass of water and electrolytes to drink. Miguel then has your favourite sweet treats and snacks high in sodium and other nutrients his research has told him is useful. Miguel will then sit with you on his lap and have your favourite film playing.

Marc Spector

Marc is someone who has had to do a lot of learning but he’s been willing to nonetheless. When he sees you in a tic attack that can be quite harmful to yourself, he has to pause for a moment and remind himself that ‘stopping’ the tic won’t make it go away or any easier for you. And that while it’s uncomfortable for him to see you in this type of pain and distress, it’s a million times worse for him than it is for you. 

If you’re banging your head or arms against a hard surface he won’t ever try to restrain you, instead he’ll go and get pillows to put it between you and the surface to soften the impact. Marc will quickly check for any safety risks like sharp and hard objects and surfaces and he’ll help you move if needed. He’ll stay with you but he’ll give you space because he knows that’s important, he doesn’t want to add more to what you’re going through, he won’t hover or pester but instead support you however he can with what helps and what you can consent to right now and have agreed to in the past. 

Marc will get you water and snacks during and after, he’ll give you cuddles and any kind of physical touch you’re okay with and want afterwards. He’ll get heat pads and gels ready for any sore muscles and keep quietly handing you glasses of water before you spend the night cuddling in all those comfy pillows and cosy blankets.

[1-ker0sene-1]

Poly 141 x Reader

Home is where you are

"What ye think she made this time?"

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

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

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

"She should be sleeping.."

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

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

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

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

"Steaks."

He mutters.

"Hm?"

Johnny questions with a hum, Simon clarifies.

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

They all salivate at the damn thought.

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

Johnny smiles warmly, leaning on his shoulder.

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

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

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

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

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

".. Hey lass.."

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

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

"Hey soldier-"

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

"Fuckin' missed ye hen.."

He whispers. You return with one of your own.

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

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

"This bloke botherin' you love?"

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

"There you are Kyle.."

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

"Always here."

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

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

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

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

"Oh Si.."

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

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

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

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

"I know doll.. I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Everyone's alright?"

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

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

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

"And you?"

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

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

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

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

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

You mumble against him.

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

"We need you darlin'. "

"Our boys and I need you bad.."

[dawneternal]

now my head's splitting at the seams

✴︎ in the labyrinth of my pain, would you find me?

✴︎ Azriel x Valkyrie reader, platonic Cassian x reader

✴︎ Summary: you miss a few days of training, down with a bad migraine. It turns out Cassian has a few misconceptions about your condition and, possibly, about pain itself.

✴︎ Warnings: mentions of nausea and vomiting (no descriptions), pain, toxic positivity and ableism, internalized ableism, Cassian's a jerk in the first half. Also I'm so sorry for the tense changing back and forth 💀 I would definitely not call this one a masterpiece

✴︎ Word Count: 3.4k

AO3 Link / Writing Masterlist

✴︎ Notes: somehow writing out my feelings about having a migraine turned into something pretentious about pain and ableism. I think a lot about John Green's "pain is the opposite of language" and how much that's changed my perception of pain

Also listen I love Cassian and I have no problems with him but I had to pick someone to take my feelings out on I'm sorry 💛 also just want to acknowledge that everyone experiences migraines differently and it's not a topic I'm an expert on so I'm sorry if you don't feel well represented by this.

Tbh I could write several essays about the way pain and disability are handled in the acotar books but that's for another time.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you squeeze your eyes shut tighter and twist your knuckle into the pressure point at the base of your palm, chasing the momentary relief it'll give you from your nausea. It works for a minute, and you're considering making your way to the bathroom before another wave hits you when your bedroom door flies open.

"You're late," Cassian's voice bellows through the room and he doesn't see you wince. He strides into the room, footsteps booming across the floorboards, and he's left the door open behind him, letting a traitorous amount of light into your dark room. What good were black out curtains if your darkness was going to be invaded like this anyways?

"Oh my gods you've got to talk quieter," You curl tighter around yourself, head clutched in your hands.

"So you're hungover?" He stops near your bed, arms crossed as he towers over you.

"No, I have a migraine."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

You squint up at him, scowling, swallowing every bad word threatening to spill off your tongue. Though maybe he deserves it for coming into your room without asking.

"Please leave," You say quietly, all the venom you could usually imbue into your voice completely swallowed by your current condition.

"You've missed three days of training." He says by way of answering, definitely not following your request to lower his volume. "You can't coddle yourself like this."

His words punch the air from your lungs. Coddle? Something terrible is rising in your gut, along with the desperate thought that you can't deal with this right now.

"I'm not - this isn't - I don't think you understand how much it hurts." You scramble for words, cheeks heated from pain and anger.

"You've gotta push through it," He says, no hint of sympathy.

"Cassian please."

"I'm not leaving until you agree to come with me."

You don't have time to respond before you're running to the bathroom and throwing up whatever you'd managed to keep down last night, head throbbing with every movement.

Breathing hard, you lean back from the toilet and clutch your head in your hands. The silence rings in your ears and you aren't sure if Cassian is still there or if he finally took mercy on you and left, until his voice makes it's way to you, with just a hint of remorse in it -

"I'd better see you up there."

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Cassian did not see you at training that morning, and you're assuming you've bruised his ego because the next day he doubles down.

The thing is, Rhysand knew of your condition. The other priestesses knew. It's only Cassian being out of the loop and if he understood what a migraine felt like, you're certain he wouldn't be dragging you up there. You were used to dealing with people who didn't understand, had worked hard to learn how to give yourself kindness no matter what other people said. But it's like he knew exactly what things to say, what buttons to press to undo all of that progress.

It was like he'd pulled off your armor, piece by piece, leaving you cold and exposed. Going back to that world where weakness was your given name and it hurt worse than stepping into the ring and fighting the pain. If you could prove him wrong, just make it through a couple of hours, you could return to your sanctuary of darkness. And at least then, you wouldn't hate yourself on top of everything else.

So you followed him up to the training ring, struggling to open your eyes all the way in the morning light, hunched over to make the pain down your shoulders and neck just a bit more bearable. You sway on your feet, but Cassian either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

When he moves aside, revealing your small, huddled frame trailing beside him, Gwyn gasps.

"Cassian!" She cries, her tone scathing, and the hint of smug triumph slips from his face. It disappears completely as Gwyn rushes to your side, folding you into her arms to block your eyes from the light. You groan into her shoulder and go limp in her arms, grateful for the support.

Azriel stands to the side, watching with narrowed eyes. His arms are crossed over his chest like Cassian's, but there is no determination or judgment in his posture or expression. There's angry, crackling flames as he watches the redheaded Valkyrie thread her fingers through your hair and murmur soft comfort.

"She missed training all this week," Cassian says, but he's not barking any more. He's feeling a little bit small underneath the glares that pin him where he stands.

"Yeah, we know," Gwyn says, and it's the closest she's gotten to snapping at him in the whole time they've known each other. She turns to you and her eyes soften. "Let's get you back to bed, love."

"No," You murmur, guilt and shame bringing your resolve to the surface once more. You gently push her away to stand on your own, raising your squinted eyes to meet Cassian's. "I can do it. I'll be fine."

She watches you take shaky steps to the nearest mat and begin stretching, body obviously stiff from a few days in bed. You're conscious of all the eyes on you, far too sympathetic for your liking. This is exactly what you hated.

"Are we starting or not?" You let out a stiff laugh, too aware that your words are lightly slurred. That is absolutely not helping the hangover accusations.

The other priestesses shuffle to get into place, bumping into each other as they move to find their positions. There was still a horrible silence, crackling with fierce anger, all rippling in Cassian's direction. He halfheartedly called a few orders, visibly uncomfortable with the energy in the ring.

And you tried. You tried hard. To move your body through the stretches like normal. But your muscles protested every move, threatening to lock back up, sending stabs of pain through your skull. It didn't take long for the nausea to take over, forcing you to the edge of the ring, doubled over and dry heaving.

"This is ridiculous," Gwyn scoffs before she's at your side again. "You're going to back to bed."

"I will not be weak," You growl at her, panting as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "I am not lazy."

Gwyn's head snaps around to find Cassian, mouth dropped open in fury as she silently dares him to confirm that he may have suggested weakness to you.

"You're not and you know it," She says softly, hauling you up and leading you away from the training ring. “Don't do that to yourself.”

Cassian is feeling like he's surrounded by wolves, all the glares that are being sent his way. He understands by now that he's messed up, and in front of a group that may not be easily inclined to forgive him. He's sure every single one of them has experienced the disbelief that he foolishly shoved your way. For their pain, or for anything else.

He thought you would snap back to your normal self after a bit of warming up, shake off your symptoms with a bit of movement and sunshine. You were strong enough to, if you wanted to. He'd seen it before. He thought you just didn't want to.

A small, firm hand lands on his arm and he finds himself looking down at Nesta. There's sympathy in her expression, but her eyes twinkle with the threat of a nasty bite if he dares to say anything stupid.

"She gets them after particularly bad flashbacks," Nesta says, "Or sometimes they're just random. Madja says there's no fix for the pain but darkness and sleep."

Cassian's stomach twists so terribly he thinks he might puke, too. In the midst of attempting to instill resilience, he's understanding that he knows nothing of this kind of pain. This is something different, something that cannot be conquered in the same way as emotional pain, as every day aches and injuries. You are a soldier in a battle he has no strategy for.

He may understand the concept of emotional resilience, of getting back up and into the training ring when you don't want to. But this is different.

The final blow, the thing that makes him want to cower and hide, is meeting his brother's eyes. Seeing the fire there transports him back in time, sending flashes of a smaller Azriel pushing himself too hard, determined to show the world that he'd never be less because of the damage to his hands. Fighting against words far too similar to the ones his own brother had spouted to you this morning, desperate to become strong enough that no one would ever doubt his pain and live.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

It was not a surprise that Cassian found himself in Rhysand's office later, confessing how thoroughly he'd fucked up, desperate for a little direction in how to fix this mess.

"It has to be their choice," Rhysand is saying, eyes meeting Cassian's over his glass.

Cassian's mouth opens and closes as he tries to conjure a response. He knows that. Of course he knows that. But apparently, his brain had not wrapped around how far that concept might go.

Cassian let out a grunt as he sat back in his chair, arms crossed. Rhysand knew he didn't have to push any further, he recognized the conflict in his brother's eyes. So he sat with him, quiet, while he processed.

"Do you want to know what it feels like?" He broke the since after a while, as the idea came to him.

"What?" Cassian blinked, startled from his thoughts.

"A migraine," Rhys explained, "Do you want to know what it feels like?"

Cassian frowned, studying his brother's expression for anything resembling amusement, but there was none. So he nods.

Not even a full second later, his skull is attacked with throbbing pain, deep in the base of his neck. He hadn't even noticed the fae lights before, but now they overwhelm him, causing a dull pain to surface behind his eyes. Nausea curled up his throat, threatening ruthlessly.

"Oh gods," He leaned forward and clutched his head in his hands, finding that his limbs trembled under his own weight.

"Do you push yourself when you feel like this?" Rhysand asked softly, not taunting. Prompting.

"I don't really ever feel like this," Cassian grumbled out.

"Hm," Rhysand mused, his brows drawing together. He'd experienced episodes like these often, under the mountain. He knew that Azriel struggled with them through his teenage years, like his brain still struggled to process his senses outside of a dark cell.

Deep in thought, he only remembered to ease up on Cassian's mind when his brother whimpered.

"Some say pain cannot truly be described with language," Rhys says, gaze somewhere else as Cassian gulps down air. "And that your pain is one of the few things that is truly yours, that you can never share. Even if you manage to describe it, it will never be felt by anyone else."

"I thought she was just hungover," Cassian says, but he's not defending himself. Rhysand knows.

"What if she was, though?" He tilts his head to the side, watching his brother carefully.

And that is the thing that had begun to unfurl within Cassian as he stood surrounded by the priestesses he'd wronged. He understood that having true control of your body meant that dictating how pain is handled had to be yours, too. He understood that pushing someone to deal with pain in his own way was a violation in and of itself. He had stepped into the world that you had carefully balanced and re-built around your condition and dared to tell you that you may have done it wrong.

"Will she get better?" He asks, thinking of the agony he'd just experienced for a few short minutes. The same one that you'd been experiencing for three days, now.

"It's hard to say," Rhysand shrugs, "Madja says she will likely experience these off and on for the rest of her life, but she may have some periods of remission."

He tilts his head at his brother again, "You know that a majority of the priestesses have an invisible disability of similar kinds, right? They won't get better. They will be in pain every day until they die."

Rhysand sighs, thinking of the hundreds - possibly thousands - of tins of salve that Azriel has gone through, numbing the pain of his nerve damage. Trembling hands hidden in black gloves, tucked into his body and away from the world. And that is the reason he's bothering telling Cassian of any of this. Otherwise, he might let him figure it out on his own.

"But the healers-" Cassian begins.

"Are there to help them cope with their emotional pain and trauma," Rhysand nods, "But some of them, a lot of them, were disabled as a result of what they went through and will never get better. Like Clotho.”

Oh.

It clicks in Cassian's mind, then. Who else Rhys meant. Who else Cassian had insulted. He had never barged into Azriel's room, insisting that he still train even when he could not flex his fingers without wincing, without trembling too hard to hold a glass of water. But he'd done it to you, in front of him. And that pinned his disbelief on Azriel all the same.

Azriel's pain, your pain, were enemies that neither of you could defeat. And here he was, shoving a sword into your hands, and insisting that you try.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

A soft knock sounds against your door, so quiet you almost don't hear it. You stare at it, wondering if you should pretend that you didn't. But then the knob turns slowly and it opens just a crack, and a soft voice is saying into the darkness,

"Hey, it's Azriel. Can I come in?"

Your breath catches in your throat, and you watch his shadows dancing back and forth through the thin wedge of light he's letting in.

"Sure," You say, moving quickly to smooth your rumpled clothes and tangled hair before he steps in. You're not exactly sure what he thinks of you after this morning.

He steps inside and closes the door behind him. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness, an amber-honey color, and somehow you can still see his shadows, like they're even darker than your room with no light.

"I just wanted to check on you," He says, crouching down beside your bed so you don't have to sit up.

"I'm okay," You say, still getting over the surprise of the Shadowsinger in your space. It's true, though, you suppose. You're used to all of your other symptoms by now, and your heart hurts worse than your head.

"He's an idiot sometimes," Azriel says, basically spits. A smile begins to spread on your face so he continues, “Like, sometimes he's just an asshole, straight up. But this time, believe it or not, I think he actually meant well and was just an idiot.”

“I know,” You give him a sad smile and all of the anger melts from his face.

“I think he went to buy flowers if that makes you feel any better,” He sighs. You know he's just as mad at Cassian as you are, maybe even more mad. But he still can't help vouching for him. It's definitely going to take more than flowers to forgive him, but it's a good start. You also appreciate that Azriel has bothered to warn you ahead of time, in case you wanted to avoid Cassian's apology.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, so quietly. And you wonder who else has earned this tenderness from him.

“It's not too bad right now,” you say truthfully, though you know that sitting up or going outside might be pushing your luck.

“Still hurts?”

“Yeah. Still hurts.”

He nods. “I can try something that helps me, sometimes.”

You search his eyes for a moment, then nod.

“Can I touch your face?” He asks, almost a whisper.

Your heart leaps into your throat and you fight to keep your face neutral as you nod again, no idea what he's planning to do with you.

Slowly, leaving enough time for you to stop him, he reaches out. He's not wearing gloves, like usual, and in the dark you can just barely make out the uneven silhouette of his dimpled, scarred hands.

His fingers land gently on your forehead, and he presses his thumb between your brows. Gently at first, and then harder, circling a tender point under your skin. It makes the pain in your head sharper, and you let out a hiss.

“I know,” He says, “Bear with me a minute.”

You close your eyes, biting back a whimper, but after a moment the pain begins to ease. He keeps going for a few minutes and you feel your whole body relax, pain free for the first time in days.

You don't realize how much you've leaned into his touch until he gently pulls away and you find your head falling forward with him.

“What is that?” You open your eyes and blink at him.

“A pressure point,” He grins, and it almost looks like he's blushing.

“That's magical,” you say. You hesitate for a moment, and then, “you can sit on the bed if you want.”

Azriel smiles and straightens, and you move your pillow to the side to make space for him. He slides off his boots and sits on the bed next to you, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. You place your pillow next to his lap and settle back into it.

“Thank you,” You say, your body feeling lighter than it has in days.

“Of course,” he says.

A silence settles, but it's not uncomfortable. There's something in it that you understand. He's just keeping you company. Here to sit with you in your pain.

It's easy to relax in his presence, between his calm aura and the pain relief he's offered you. And you find yourself spilling the question that's been circling though your mind since this morning.

“What if I can't fight, someday? What if I can't be a Valkyrie anymore?”

Azriel stills beside you. It's a long moment before he says anything. You're tense beside him, and it makes you flinch when he brings his hand so gently to rest on your head. Not moving, just resting.

“First,” He says, in the same soft voice, “You'll always be a Valkyrie. Because you cut the ribbon. Because you sisters will never let you go. And because I know for a fact that the Valkyries did not strip their warriors of their title if they became disabled by an illness or an injury.”

“Really?” You breathe.

“Mhm,” He hums in affirmation. You forget sometimes that he knows the Valkyries from more than history books.

“And second,” His voice drops lower, like he's sharing a secret with you. His hand moves, fingers slipping gingerly through your hair. And it makes you realize that he came here with his hands uncovered as an offer of solidarity. Combing his scarred fingers through your hair, he is offering you vulnerability, like recompense for what you bared this morning. A trade. A truce.

“If you cannot fight,” He continues, “Then you will show the world that a formidable woman can be made from more than fighting skills. You will still be - will always be - something incredible.”

Tears prickle at your eyes, form a lump in your throat. You reach up to grasp his hand, the only thank you that you can manage in the moment, and he lets you.

There's another silence, as he holds your hand in the dark.

“Who helps you?” You ask, turning to look up at him. He watches your eyebrows knit together, so serious, and he swallows a smile.

“What do you mean?” He says.

You bring one finger up to tap the space between his own eyebrows.

“With your pain? Who helps you like you helped me?”

“Um,” He shrugs, “Sometimes Rhys if he has time. Otherwise, no one.”

That's what you thought, but it still makes your heart twist in your chest. It takes a deep breath before you have the courage to say the next words out loud.

“You should tell me next time you're in pain. And I'll help.”

Azriel stares back at you, something bewildered in his eyes. Because he sees your suggestion for what it is. The same thing he offered you. A trade. A truce.

A beginning.

“Yes,” He whispers into the dark, and his hand closes around yours. “I will.”

[jokingmisfit]

I Just (Don't) Need Help (Part 1/2)

Yandere Batfam x Disabled Female Reader

Warnings- disabled reader, manipulation, reader is in pain, very light yandere themes

Notes- The disability isn’t named because I wanted to make it as inclusive as possible, although it is heavily based on my experiences because I only really know what I’ve experienced. The reader and Damien are both high school seniors, cause I said so. Reader lives alone because who needs parents?

It was the pain. That God awful pain that made you unable to eat, or sleep, or think. Everything in your body screaming at you to quit and give up, but also begging for help. In the end, however, there was nothing you could do.

You've tried, God did you try. You tried to work through it. You've tried to get help, but person after person, and doctor after doctor ignored your pain, ignored your symptoms and left you stranded in this unbearable hell. 

You just wanted peace. You just wanted to live without this unending pain. You found it confusing how a human can constantly go through so much pain and not die from it.

You were behind in school. You've lost another job. You were so goddamn tired. 

You pulled the phone off your in-stand. Sending a quick text to your friend Damien. You ask him if there were any important notes you missed at school and if he felt like sending you a picture of them. You let him know you’re fine, just sick, and hoping that’ll calm the quantity of texts he has sent you.

You have to be careful with him, Damien, he's easily irritated and highly intelligent. You’ve told him about your disabilities, but  you try to not let the pain show. You know he knows something, because he'll press you for information on yourself and stare you down when you refuse to do certain things. He knows it’s worse than you let on, but he doesn’t press like the others.

The text was only slightly changed from one you sent a few weeks ago. You didn’t have the energy to write a whole new text so you copied an old one, only changing it so Damien didn’t catch on and think the flare up was too bad. 

Despite only taking a minute or so, it already took all the energy you had left in you. Throwing your phone to the side, you tried to get comfortable, and you drift right back to a restless sleep.

~

A loud pounding woke you from your queasy rest. You wondered if you could slip back into that sweet dark nothingness, but with the noise being made you knew it’d be useless.

You’d gathered all the bearings you could, and a blanket for good measure, and made your way to your front door. Before you even got there, however, it was already opening. You stood there deadpanned as Jason looks up at you from his bent position; clearly finishing picking your lock. 

Dick smiles at you with an awkward laugh and greets you. “Heya… sorry for the intrusion, princess.” He chuckles nervously again. “Damien said you skipped school and stopped answering his texts and everyone got pretty worried soo, here we are!”

“Yeah, okay.” You say with a sigh and go sit on your couch.

Jason and Dick share a concerned look at your exhausted form. Frowns perching on Jason's face, and a worried smile on Dicks. 

“Sooo,” Jason started. “You feelin alright there, doll? Ya look pretty… bad?” He awkwardly asks you.

He and Dick sit on the couch with you while Dick quietly scolds him about telling you, you look bad. If it was for the lightness in your head you’d laugh a little at the brotherly behavior, but for now you opt to lay your head on Jason's shoulder once he’s settled on the seat.

“t’s jus a flare up…” You whisper out to them.

You really didn’t want to have a whole conversation. The urge to down all of the pain medicine in your cabinet comes back up. The need to just get the pain to go away. No, you didn’t want to die, but you wanted the pain to stop. You wanted to be able to appreciate your friends coming over to check on you. With all the overwhelming symptoms you couldn’t appreciate much.

With your eyes closed and head on Jason's shoulders, you had missed another look Jason and Dick shared. A mixture of annoyance, concern, and dark thoughts showing clearly through their eyes.

“Didn’t you go to a doctor for that?” Dick asks you with an irritated tone.

“Said he doesn believe me…” You tell him. “Think I wan drugs or somethin.”

Jason scoffs loudly at this. “You’re a drug seeker now huh?”

“‘Mm parently.” You reply.

Dick moves closer and rubs his hand lovingly across your back. You humm with appreciation at the action. Your exhausted form relaxes a bit more into the soft cushion. You move your head and hide it a bit more into Jason's chest. 

“Maybe,” Dick starts softly. “You should come stay with us for a while?”

You sigh in frustration. “Already told you guys ‘m not gonna use you like that.” You state angrily. “You’re my friens not a resource for me ta use.”

“I know, I know!” Dick defends, throwing his hands up in defense and laughing nervously. “It’s just, we’ve got tons of money and can get you an actually good doctor. Y’know one that’ll actually listen to your needs, birdie.” He explains passionately.

“Besides,” Jason chimes in. “You’re like family, hunny. We want to help you out. And Alfred has been dyin to see ya again.”

“I don’t wan to…” You tell them.

Jason scoffs. “Why not?”

This situation was too much for you right now. The pain you felt weighed you down and made it harder to hold yourself together. The little bit of poise you had was bubbling off you like melted flesh leaving you at the barest version of yourself, and that self was angry and confused.

You didn’t get why every time you got sick or had a flare up they got like this. Urging you to come live with them ‘cause “it’s easier” and “they can help” or because “you a kid” and “you shouldn’t be living alone”. What do they know? They were adopted by a billionaire and have a huge family. They don’t know what it’s like to feel the way you do. Of course some things they understand, but a lot of it seems they don’t.

It was irritating for them as well. They want to help you, but you always refuse. It always ends in an argument and you push them away for a while until you forget why you were mad in the first place. It was a tiring loop that everyone was becoming sick of.

You lean forward and out of both the mens touches. “I don‘t know why!” You sluggishly shout. “I jus don’t wan to. I don’t know why it’s always a fight with you guys… Jst let me rest please! I’m in pain ‘n all you wanna do is try and hold a conversation that we all know will only end in irritation.” You breathlessly tell them.

You stand on unsteady feet and start walking back towards your room. The stiffness and anger making you feel even worse.

Why can’t they try and see things the way you do?

Of course, they were wondering the same thing. Dick stands up to follow after you. Matching glares enter the brothers eyes as they mirror your steps. Determined to not give up this time when you clearly need them.

You’ve already buried yourself in the bed by the time the two come to your doorway. Honestly you were a bit surprised when they came to sit on the edge of your bed. Well, at least Jason did. Dick crawled over and layed propped against your headboard next to you.

“Okay… Maybe we’ve been a little too pushy.” Dick says.

“Maybe?” You ask glaring up from your covers.

He laughs at you. “Okay, okay, I get it! We’ve pushed too far… It’s just- it’s just that we can get you the help you need, and it’s not like you’d be staying forever. Just long enough for you to get a proper diagnosis and medicine or whatever to make things easier.”

The change from joyful to melancholy in Dicks voice had you feeling guilty. The way he poured out his heart into people never ceased to awe you. You shift to sit up more against the headrest. Jason’s hand found its way to your calf where it rested casually.

“You know we don’t want to force you to do anything. We’re just so concerned for you. We know you’ve been alone for so long, but you don’t have to be anymore.” Dick says love shining in his eyes. “I know you think needing help makes you weak, but it doesn’t, and what’s family for but to be there for you when you are. Can’t tell you how many times we’ve been completely consumed by worry for you.” His brows furrowed as he explains.

“Just long enough for you to get to feelin better. That’s all we ask, doll.” Jason adds on.

“Jus a little while? That’s all?” You ask hesitantly.

“Just for a little while, princess.” Dick answers.

You nod slowly and whisper an “ok”. The two men were immediately in motion packing you a bag. You sat up more and assured them you could do it yourself but they hushed you in excitement. Jason asked you if there were any specific things you wanted while Dick filled a bag with clothes.

All in all time moved swiftly as the two moved like practiced dancers. Within minutes dresses and sentimental items were pulled from their proper places placed into bags and moved out of your home. Dick picked you up despite your demands to walk and brought you to their car. The two of you were followed closely by Jason who carried the last bag of items you’d be taking with you to their homes. Claims to come back for more were made by all three of you as you left the rest behind.

It didn’t take much for you to fall asleep in the back of the car. The rumbling and pain induced heaviness lulled you to sleep like a baby in a cradle. Because of your peaceful rest your arrival at the manor was kept relatively calm so as to not wake you. Bruce coming out to carry you to your new room while the other two grabbed your items. Tim checks the camera placed in the bedroom to make sure it’s operating and Alfred prepares a simple snack for you to eat once you wake up.

[godspeedviper]

How the doctors handle your sick days - Headcanons

SFW || TW: mentions of needles, vaccines, pills & IV drip.

This one's for the girls, goths, and gays that have a chronic illness, a disability, or are just plain old sick. As a chronically ill girlie myself I'm always craving caretaker fics but never find them so I had to be the change I wanted to see in the world.

Dr. Jonathan Crane

He immediately shifts into a stoic clinical demeanor the moment you start to show any signs of discomfort. At first you find it a bit worrisome because his voice seems so cold and detached, but now it makes you feel grounded and safe.

Jonathan always makes sure you have everything you need, but he unfortunately doesn't think much further than that. It takes him some time to learn how to comfort you as well as heal you.

The best part about having him by your side when you're ill is that he can always talk you out of a bad state of mind. Above all, Crane remains a psychologist, and he takes pride in his ability to override your negative thoughts.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter

You are utterly spoiled. Hannibal makes sure to cook for you and bring your meal to bed or the living room so you can eat comfortably. In the evenings, he makes sure to run a hot bath for you with herbs and epsom salts to soothe any aches and open up your respiratory system.

Since he is a doctor after all, he has prescribing rights, and will usually write prescriptions for any necessary medications. Need to get an injection, or an IV drip? Hannibal does that for you at home.

His pride and possessiveness makes him want to give you the best possible care to ensure someone else doesn't touch you this way. Hannibal gets nervous at the thought of your safety and health being out of his hands. How could he trust someone else with such a precious life? What if they made a mistake and hurt you or worse?

Dr. Robert Laing

"I'm not that kind of doctor." is always the first thing he says when you mention that you aren't feeling well. However, this doesn't mean he's not helpful, he is still a pathologist. Laing always does his best to make you feel better.

He's always reading up on your symptoms and possible treatments. If something is out of his grasp, he isn't afraid to admit it and seek out assistance. Even if he can't be the one to treat you, Laing will be there with you every step of the way to advocate for you and make sure you feel safe.

Much like Scarecrow, at first he seems rather cold and detached, but it's only his training taking over. However, his starting bedside manner is much better, and over time he adapts very well to your needs.

Dr. Spencer Reid

Now he's definitely not that kind of doctor, but that doesn't mean he isn't prepared to take care of you. His eidetic memory comes in clutch with any possible knowledge about your condition and how to act accordingly.

He always tries to be there for your doctor appointments or for any major procedures. Spencer wants to make sure you're being properly cared for and he isn't afraid to confront anyone that talks down to you or dismisses your symptoms.

When you're resting at home he clings to you like a lost puppy. He happily reads to you when you lack the energy to talk, or if you just want a bedtime story. He never forgets to check in on you even when he's away on a case, and will often ask Garcia to pick up items from the pharmacy for you if he can't do it himself.

Ao3 || Guidelines || Ko-Fi

[rosiescrypt]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[author-kweenyluv]

... Familiarity ...

[Reader reminiscing about the way Kurt smells and the familiarity it brings them. Sprinklings of my own headcannon’s about how his signature BAMFs don’t just smell like brimstone and why they're so unique to him]

The scent was familiar; ash, ozone, and brimstone. Not entirely pleasant, but not horrendous either. It was something familiar, something comforting.    Everyone said that Kurt smelled like brimstone, but you couldn’t agree, not entirely at least. Ash, ozone, and brimstone. It was the scent of the smoke left behind by his ‘BAMF’, the smell of when he donned the suit and became ‘Nightcrawler the X-Man’, but it wasn’t him.

Kurt reminded you of a lot of things; laughter and safety and half-translated jokes in a language you couldn’t understand but loved to hear. He didn’t smell like brimstone, not entirely at least, and the thought made you pause. He smelled like bread, and clean laundry, and for some reason heat. It was a combination almost as interesting as the smoke of his teleports, and one just as comforting. You never realize how... calming, the scent of the person you love could be until it’s not around anymore.    The scent of brimstone clung to his fur, sure, but he was meticulous about his hygiene and spent most of his time out of the suit. So, most of your days with each other smelled like Kurt; like bread, and laundry, and heat. It was soothing, and for all that you teased him about smelling like rotten eggs after his BAMFs, you still clung to him without hesitation, still relaxed with your chest against his as he laid back on one of the many couches in the Institute.    “Why do you always smell like bread?” You look up at him, a confused expression pinching his eyebrows together as he tilts his head at your words. The question had been itching in your brain for a while, rolling around your skull like a particularly stubborn marble. The scent of bread, and laundry, and heat filled your nose as the fur of his neck tickles your cheek. “I can’t really figure it out. I know you eat a lot of bread, but I don’t think that would make you smell like it too. I just... don’t get it.” You could feel the tip of his tail flicking in amusement against your ankles as a small smile graced his lips, a flash of fangs peaking out and catching your attention as he chuckles softly before you go looking back up at him.    “It... might be easier if I just show you.” His hands press a little firmer into you, the one at your back holding you steady while the one on your upper arm rubs the thumb thoughtlessly as he shift the both of you to sit up, his legs moving out from under you to plant his feet quietly on the floor. You follow suit, adjusting yourself and moving to grab your crutches, slipping the braces onto your biceps. Kurt stands first, smoothing out his shirt while you get your crutches on and holding out a hand to help you up, always a gentleman.

 You take his hand to pull yourself up before you steady yourself with your crutches, your grip on the handles loose and easy and familiar, the material comfortable under your palms. His hand moves to rest on your shoulder as he guides you, walking towards the kitchen. You stare at him curiously, but don’t question him, although his amused grin is quite nice to look at. The walk is quiet, save for the soft hums that reverberate from Kurt’s throat, following along to some silent melody only he can hear.

He leads you into the kitchen, and then towards one of the stand-alone freezers, opening it up and assaulting your nose with the scent of bread. You blink the cool air from your eyes and stare. What... what were you looking at? You glance at Kurt only to see him holding the door open with one hand while the other sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, his tail coiling nervously around his leg.    Wrapped up in cling-wrap and lining the shelves of the small upright freezer, were rows upon rows of bread. There were different shapes, and sizes, and colors, all neatly ordered and wrapped up tight. There was even a small pile of what looked like pretzels. You were very, very confused. A quick glance at Kurt made him chuckle and avert his gaze sheepishly, a feat for someone without visible pupils.    “I... miss the bread back home sometimes. I took to baking it myself sometime after I first arrived at the manor to help with the homesickness.” He pulls out one of the pretzels and fiddles with it in his hands, slowly closing the freezer door. “The professor aided me in finding the recipes, I usually bake a few different types at once and then store them for later. Sonnenblumenbrot is my favorite, which is why there’s so much.” This was not what you were expecting.    “I-, huh...” You blink a few times, just to get your brain back in order. A small huff of amusement escapes you at the absurdity of what you’re seeing before a small chuckle breaks out. You lean a bit more firmly on your crutches as you let go of one of the grips, lifting a hand to muffle your giggles. You look up at warm yellow eyes and give a baffled grin. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t take you for the baking type.” Kurt let’s out a small chuckle of his own as the tension melts from his shoulders.    “Well, I don’t like to bring attention to it. Besides, baking is Kitty’s thing. I really only make bread Spatzl.” You point to the pretzel still in his hand with an amused grin and another chuckle.    “And pretzels apparently.” Kurt’s ears flush indigo, although it was a bit hard to see under the fur. Your own grin ticks up at the corner in amusement. “Can I try?”    And with the scent of bread and laundry and heat in your lungs, a new note of familiarity threaded itself into your heart as Kurt grinned wide, threw the pretzel in the oven, and you fell a little bit more in love.

[citruswriter]

Hello, sorry in advance - my English is VERY bad😭💔

have problems with blood pressure, which often makes me dizzy, and yesterday in the bathroom because of the pressure I lost consciousness and fell - my mother was very scared, and we waited another half hour for an ambulance🤣

(everything is fine, I got tangled in the bath curtain and it saved me my head from a concussion, but I sprained my neck, hit my nose and got bruises all over my body)

I would like to know how the bayverse tmnt(individually) reacted to the fact that there was a crash from the bathtub, the door was locked, and when they managed to open the door, their beloved was lying on the floor, her feet on the edge of the bathtub, and the girl herself was lying unconscious, confused in the bathroom curtain on the tile floor? 🤣

Will they scold the girl for her habit of locking doors, or will they wash her themselves after this event, idk

(please guys take care of yourselves especially if you have the same health issues as me 🙏)

Bayverse Turtles x Fainting Disorder Reader

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

A/N: Behold! The singular ask that survived the Tumblr askbox purge. It's ok dear! It took me a bit to decipher the ask but I think I've got the jist of it!

Leonardo x Reader 🧡

Heart attack the first time you fainted. Warn a guy if you have a fainting disorder will ya?

Internally screamed while carrying you to Donnie to see if you need the hospital. Deep breath of relief to find out, no you don't.

Please tell him what you have and how to help. He's just one big ole softy and he loves you and wants to make sure you're safe and comfortable.

Scolds you every time you lock doors. He understands your wish for independence and privacy but either you leave the door unlocked or he breaks down the door. Your choice.

Can be a bit overbearing at times so don't be surprised if you need to have a talk with him at some point. Let him know you appreciate his effort but it's just a tad suffocating.

Probably knows your medical history like the back of his hand. Wants to know everything to be helpful so you've probably told him something about something at some point and now he has it all memorized.

Call him while at the doctor's office if you forget. He'll think it's amusing that you forgot your own medical history but will still happily tell you what you forgot. He enjoys feeling useful.

Constant stash of water and snacks in his room and kitchen specifically for you. If anybody else touches it, they are required "by law" to replace it or else they get ha'shi treatment.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Raphael x Reader 🧡

Literal panic attack the first time you faint around him. Screaming for Donnie and asking if you're gonna die.

Don't be surprised if he yells at you for not telling him. He's not trying to be mean, you just scared him is all. Just let him get it out and eventually he'll calm down and apologize for yelling before holding you in his arms.

This man ain't gonna remember shit about what ever the fuck you have. He'll remember the name and that it's a fainting disorder and that's probably it.

This man already has a water bottle stash but he happily lets you access it whenever you need to. Hydration is good!

Not afraid to break your door if you lock it. What if you faint face first into some liquid and then drown and die? Hm?! He loves you too much. You're not allowed to die. Leave the damn door unlocked.

Another turtle you might have to sit down with and have a "I appreciate your effort but you're suffocating me" talk with.

Probably has a note on his notes app labeled "Tiny's Medical Shit" with some basic information on your disorder and how to help with dizzy and fainting spells.

His room looks like it's absolutely baby proofed with the caps he puts on sharp corners and with all the pillows and blankets on his floor but really he's just doing his best to keep you safe and injury free.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Donatello x Reader 🧡

Worried the first time you faint around him but not all panicky like Leo or Raph. He might softly scold you for not telling him about your fainting disorder though.

Faint proofs his lab. He wants his baby in his lab with him but that wasn't exactly possible for awhile so he had to faint proof his while fucking lab. Please praise him for it, he desperately needs the validation.

As soon as he knows you have a fainting disorder, he looks up what it is and suddenly knows more about it than even you do. POTS, narcolepsy, it doesn't matter. He knows more than you now.

Will love you for eternity if you call him while at a doctor's because you forgot something about your own medical history or just don't know the answer.

"Hey Donnie?" "Yes dove?" "How many times would you say I've fainted in the past month?" "Twenty-seven. I have it all documented. Why? You at the doctor?" "Yeah. Figured if anybody knew the answer to that question, it would be you." "Well you were correct. I love you, dove." "I love you too, my love. See you tonight."

He doesn't care if you lock doors. This man knows how to pick a lock in twenty different ways. He also knows that, if push comes to shove, he can easily just break the damn door down.

Lots of water and snackies for you in his lab. Nobody tries to steal from your stash. Mikey tried once and had to deal with scary Don for few solid minutes. They know better now, lest they incur the wrath of Scary Dontron.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Michaelangelo x Reader 🧡

Surprisingly chill the first time you faint around him??? Like why the fuck is he so calm???

He does his best to study up on your disorder but, much like Raph, he knows what it's called and that's about it.

Has a "fainting spot" for you in his room that's essentially just a nook in his room with extra fluffy blankets and pillows with a basket of water and snacks within reach. Whenever you faint, he places you there and stays close by until you're awake and conscious.

Doesn't worry too much about locked doors. He'd prefer if you don't but he understands that he can easily bust the door down if needed.

If you're clingy after a fainting spell, this man is gonna eat it up. Need him to hold you? Course baby, come here. Need some kisses? Who is he to deny you? Need some head rubs while you bury yourself into his arms? Why it would be criminal to deny you!

He isn't the best at keeping up with all the fun facts about your disorder but he's surprisingly fantastic about tracking your fainting spells. Like, it's Donnie level tracking. He may not know the ins and outs of your disorder like Don would but he can indeed tell you that you've fainted three times this week.

Will chirp if you call him at the doctors. He can't promise he'll know the answer to your question but the fact that you thought of him and called him still warms his heart. Prepare for him to cuddle and scent you when you get home if you do this.

I'm so sorry for not writing guys. I've been in Ao3's embrace for the past few days. 🤭😂

[vbecker10]

This might be an odd request, but could you please write a Loki x disabled!reader fic where the reader has Functional Neurologic Disorder and is having a really bad brain fog day? Like they can’t remember what someone two seconds ago kinda bad? I know it’s very specific but I never get to see my disability portrayed anywhere so I thought I’d give it a shot. Thanks for your consideration❤️

Don't Forget

Pairing: Loki x female/disabled reader (Y/N) - established relationship

Summary: You and Loki have been together just over a year and you moved into his apartment three weeks ago. He has been on a mission for the last five days and you are determined to make his homecoming special since it is the first time he's been away since you started living together. Unfortunately, you've been so busy and stressed trying to get things ready that you're FND symptoms become worse and you worry they will ruin your plans.

Background Info: Female reader has Functional Neurologic Disorder (FND) with the following symptoms - numbness / temporary paralysis in legs which requires the intermittent use of a wheelchair, light sensitivity, heat intolerance and memory issues. I know that these are not all of the symptoms of FND and there are several types and degrees of severity but these are the symptoms I included based on the request.

A/N: @fallingfastfailingfaster thank you so much for this request! I really really hope you like it! 💚💚

You turn off your alarm and reach over for Loki but his side of the bed is still empty. You sigh but quickly remember he will finally be home later today. A smile spreads across your lips, it's been five lonely nights and you can't wait to see him again.

You throw off your sheets and realize, much to your disappointment, that you can't feel your legs. They are completely numb and unresponsive when you try to move them. The muscles in your legs had been weak last night but you hoped they would be better this morning even though you know that isn't how it works. You groan as you sit up, today is not the day you want to deal with this. You reach for your wheelchair which thankfully you placed nearby last night and transfer yourself before heading out of the bedroom.

You roll into the living area and turn the lights on then quickly turn them off again as they instantly hurt your eyes. They seem far too bright this morning so you decide you'll just have to do without them. Pulling open the curtains instead, you let the morning light in then head to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee because coffee makes everything better.

When you roll over the threshold into the kitchen you pause. The green glow of Loki's seidr travels through the kitchen and you smile, watching it transform the room. The base cabinets become shorter, enabling the countertops and appliances to lower to an accessible height. The sink cabinet reconfigures so you can roll your chair under it to use it better. All of the handles on the upper cabinets lower so you can reach them without stretching as far, they already have a shelf system which allows you to pull them down so you can grab what you need.

You sit back while the kitchen renovates itself and remember the first morning after you moved in with Loki.

-----------------------------------

You needed to use your wheelchair since you were exhausted from moving and he was shocked by how difficult it was for you to use the kitchen. He asked if you would prefer he had the kitchen adjusted by Stark's team of contractors but you told him no.

"You're too tall to use the kitchen if you lower everything so I can use it," you told him as you struggled to reach the toaster which was pushed against the back splash.

He moved it towards you then smirked, "You figured out my master plan."

You laughed and said, "I forgot who I was talking to for a minute. What master plan does the great God of Mischief have now?"

"To avoid doing the dishes ever again by making it nearly impossible for me to use the kitchen properly," he chuckled. He leaned down and kissed your cheek lightly.

You shook your head but couldn't hide your smile, telling him, "That is a horrible plan."

You reminded him that you wouldn't always need to use your wheelchair so redoing the kitchen permanently might not be very helpful to either of you. He had thought it over for a few hours, digging through some of his old books before he finally found a spell he could adjust slightly for the perfect solution.

-----------------------------------

You reach the coffeemaker easily and turn it on then go back to your bedroom to get dressed for work. Half an hour later you pick up your bag from the coffee table and head to the front door. Your attention catches on the small sign you hung by the door. One of your oldest friends gave it to you as a joke when you moved in.

"Keys," you say out loud as you jingle them in your hand. "Wallet, phone, tablet," you read off the next items as you double check your bag on your lap. "Coffee," you read the next item, "Ahh crap!" You return to the kitchen to find your coffee lukewarm at best, still sitting in the coffeemaker. You sigh and check the clock on the stove, thankfully you still have enough time to make a second cup.

You put a lid on the cold coffee and place it in the fridge, deciding you'll have ice coffee tomorrow. You grab a post-it note from the side of the fridge and write 'ice coffee' in large letters hoping you'll see it when you are getting ready tomorrow. You put it between the note reminding you to pick up the cupcakes at 2PM and a picture of you and Loki in the park.

You smile at the picture, it was one of the first you took together when you started dating just over a year ago. Your memory for little daily tasks may be worse than terrible some days but thankfully you could remember every second you spent with him.

You pull yourself away from the memory and head towards the door again, ready to leave for work. Reaching for the knob, you suddenly you remember why you had gone back into the kitchen in the first place and rub your temples in annoyance. You head back to the kitchen and sit in front of the coffeemaker, afraid if you look away for even a second you will forget it once more.

You head straight to Agent Hill's office when you get to the floor where you with. You remind her that you will only be working until noon since Loki is arriving around 4PM.

"Are you sure you want to work today?" she asks, looking at your chair and not you. "If you're not feeling well, you can take the day off."

"I'm fine," you assure your boss. If you took off every day you didn't feel 100%, you would work around five days a year.

"You have plenty of sick time," she continues to insist you aren't well enough to work. You fight to not roll your eyes, just because you needed help getting around today didn't mean you were suddenly incapable of working.

"I told you, I'm fine," you repeat, keeping your voice even. Before she can respond, you take your tablet out of your bag and ask her, "You need the paperwork for case file X-176 and H-778 today right? The rest can wait until tomorrow, I think." You check your notes to make sure you get all your work in before you need to leave for the day.

"Yes, just those two files," she answers. "But like I said, if you need the day-"

"I'll have them to you soon," you promise then turn your chair away from her, not allowing room for her to make another comment.

You sigh when you close the door but only a second later you run into another annoying problem. Steve and Sam are walking down the hall in the direction of your office and you know the second you make eye contact with Steve what he is going to do.

"Good morning, Y/N," he says in his typically cheerful voice as he grabs onto the handles of your wheelchair.

"Hi Steve, hi Sam," you greet them both. "You don't need to do that," you tell Steve for the hundredth time.

"Its not a problem," he answers then continues his conversation with Sam as if you are simply an object he is moving. You know he means well but every time he does this, your mind returns to a post you saw on Pinterest a few years ago. It showed how to install small plastic spikes onto your handles so people can't just grab them and push you around. Nothing made you feel less independent then having someone just roll you around without even interacting with you.

Thankfully Loki never does that. He always asks if you want or need his help before touching your chair, he has never assumed you can't do things by yourself. He knows you are fiercely independent and he always supports you, it is one of the many, many things you love about him.

You rest your head on one hand with your elbow on the desk, hoping your headache will go away before Loki gets home. It started pounding as soon as you closed the door to your office this morning and hasn't let up.

Your office is the same temperature as always but you fell like it is ninety degrees. You drink another sip of water and close your eyes for a moment, feeling your heart beating faster. Wiping away a bit of sweat from your forehead, you ask J.A.R.V.I.S what the temperature in the room is for the fifth or sixth time. Again, it tells you the room is seventy degrees but your body doesn't believe it. You roll to the window near your desk and open it as much as you can reach to try and let the breeze in.

Your alarm goes off a half an hour later and you look at it curiously, wondering why you set it. When you check the message attached to the alarm you smile, your done for the day finally and Loki will be back in a few hours. You check your email for a third time to make sure you sent Agent Hill the two case files that were due today and shut down your computer.

Thankfully your memory issues weren't an issue when it came to doing your work today. You had notes and reminders all over your desk and computer so you wouldn't miss a step. Loki had suggested you write out your whole process one day when your memory wasn't so foggy and it was incredibly helpful for days like today.

You leave your office and make your way back to your apartment, luckily avoiding Steve or anyone else who wanted to be helpful. You decide to get changed quick before heading out to run your errands, the final task of the day is to pick up the cupcakes you ordered.

Loki has a substantial sweet tooth and the bakery you ordered from is special to you both. It was only a few blocks from the Tower and it was his favorite one in the city. He had taken you there after you saw a movie on your first date, sharing pastries and talking until closing. You surprised Loki with a treat from there a few weeks later when he came back from a short mission to Russia. It quickly become a tradition, whenever Loki came home after being away for a week or longer, you would pick up something for him from there.

He would sometimes bring you one of your favorite pastries and a small bunch of flowers when you were having an especially rough time with your FND. You really appreciated the way he would try and make you smile no matter how badly you were feeling.

Even though Loki had been gone less than a week, you still wanted to surprise him tonight. Since it was the first time he had left since you moved in together, it felt like something you wanted to celebrate. You had planned on making a home cooked meal as well. It was hard not to laugh at how eloquently he complained about the food SHIELD provided when he was on a mission.

You get off the bus at the grocery store and try not to be too annoyed. It is always such a pain to take public transportation with your wheelchair but what was really bothering you was that you should have done this errand already. You had meant to grocery shop two days ago, when you had the day off from work but you got distracted doing your laundry and other things. By the time you remembered that you were supposed to pick up the ingredients to make dinner, it was too late to go out.

You wait on the long line with your basket of groceries resting on your lap, thinking about the last time you came shopping here with Loki.

-----------------------------------

"No, that one," you giggled and pointed to the cereal on the very top shelf.

"This one specifically?" he asked and you nodded when he grabed the box without having to stretch at all.

"You are so useful," you told him when he added it to the cart he was pushing. You rolled next to him down the aisle.

"I knew you were only keeping me around because of my height," he joked then kissed the top of your head.

"Its not the only reason," you smiled up at him. "But it's definitely on the list."

"Speaking of," he paused. "Is this everything that was on the list?"

"I'm not sure," you admitted with a frown when you glanced into the partially full cart. You had left the list on the kitchen counter with your reusable bags, of course.

He took your hand and said, "Take your time."

You bit your lip and looked at the cart, trying to compare it to the list you had written while eating breakfast. "Something is missing," you felt sure of it. Loki stood quietly with you, not rushing you while you thought. "Eggs," you looked up at him excitedly when it finally popped into your head.

He smiled, "To the eggs." He followed you to the back of the store, as he had three times previously that trip, never once complaining.

-----------------------------------

You smile to yourself, still thinking about Loki, as the line finally moves. He is one of the few people you know who has never made you feel stupid or annoying for not being able to remember things. You told him once when you first started dating that you couldn't stand it when people treated you as if you weren't smart because of your memory issues and it hurt. Since then, he has always encouraged you to find the missing piece yourself first and only fills in the blanks if you ask him to.

You put the finishing touches on the lasagna and slide into the oven as your phone chimes on the counter. You pick it up and see a text from Loki telling you he's back. The smile on your face fades quickly as you realize this means you had lost track of time. You had hoped to meet him at the landing pad, you wanted to see him the minute he was home. Apparently you set up your alarm to remind you to go down and meet him, but you forgot to turn it on.

A few minutes later you hear the front door unlock and you wheel yourself into the living area to greet him. He opens the door and immediately bends down to kiss you, wrapping you in a tight hug. When he finally releases you from his hold he smiles and says, "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too," you look up at him, you couldn't be happier to have him home.

He walks back towards the door to hang up his bag then turns on the lights without thinking. You instantly raise your hand to cover your eyes and look down as the over head light feels painfully bright. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, noticing your discomfort. He comes to your side and waves his hand, dimming the lights. "Tell me when it is okay, sweetheart," he says.

You lower your hand slightly and when it no longer hurts you tell him, "That's perfect, thanks."

He kisses your cheek and then asks, "How you are feeling?" He moves towards the couch and you follow him.

"Have the lights been bothering you all day as well?" his tone is a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"I'm fine," you answer but he raises his eyebrow and tilts his head, you know he wants the truth and not what you tell everyone else. You admit you are having a rough day, "When I woke up I couldn't use my legs at all and my memory is absolutely gone today."

You push yourself onto the couch next to Loki and he shifts so his arm is around you. "Yeah, I didn't even turn them on what I got to my office. It felt like the room was on fire today too, it gave me such a headache," you tell him.

"I'm sorry you didn't feel well today," he runs his fingers through your hair slowly. "Have you been pushing yourself too hard?" he asks and you shrug, not looking at him. "I know you want to do everything but you need to remember to rest." You nod and he pulls you closer.

"-and then I told Thor that if he wasn't on the jet in the next two minutes, I was going to have them take off without him," Loki chuckles.

"You did not threaten to leave your brother in Siberia," you put your hand over your mouth.

"I had been away from you long enough," he smiles and you lean towards him, kissing his cheek. His smiles vanishes and he looks into the kitchen, "Is something burning?"

You turn to look towards the kitchen, "Oh no! Did I forget to set the timer?"

He gets up quickly and shuts off the oven before opening it and freeing a cloud of black smoke. Your heart sinks as you get back in your chair and go to the kitchen. He puts the charred remains of your lasagna in the sink and waves off the smoke so the fire alarm doesn't go off.

"I can't believe I ruined it," you look down.

Loki kneels in front of you and touches your shoulder gently, "I'm sorry, I know how hard you worked on that." You fight to hold back tears and he says, "It's okay, darling. We can order take out tonight, have a bit of dessert and watch a movie. This weekend you can show me how you make your famous lasagna."

All of a sudden you feel a tightness in your chest, "I forgot to go to the bakery." You begin to lose the battle to hold back your tears. "I burnt dinner, I messed up getting a dessert, I couldn't even get myself together to go down and see you when you got off the jet," you look down as the first tear slips down your cheek. "I wanted to make your first homecoming since we moved in together special but it's ruined because of my stupid, useless memory," you cry.

He leans towards you and you wrap your arms around him, resting your face on his shoulder. He rubs your back slowly and quietly says, "My homecoming is not ruined." You look at him and he smiles, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "I can't tell you how loved it makes me feel knowing how much effort you put into tonight," he tells you.

"Even if it was a total disaster?" you ask.

"Even then," he risks his answer and you breath a small laugh. "I know you are upset about dinner and dessert, but I'm just glad to be home with you." You nod and lock eyes with Loki, he smiles and strokes your cheek gently. "Your memory is..."

"Garbage?" you suggest.

"I was going to say 'not the best'," he shakes his head but you smile a bit.

"But garbage works," you joke, feeling slightly better.

"Will you be quiet and let me try to be romantic for a moment?" he laughs and you pretend to zip your mouth closed. He sighs and starts again, "Your memory is not the best, we can both agree on that, but I never want you to forget how much I love you. You are smart and beautiful and strong, pushing through each day even when you are in pain or your body fights you. You are the most amazing woman in the nine realms and I am so lucky to be able to call you mine."

You smile as Loki talks and when he finishes you pull him to you, kissing him deeply. "I love you too," you tell him. After a moment, he sits back and you wipe away the last remaining tears.

"I have an idea," he says. "I think you need more triggers for your memory."

"What do you mean?" you ask.

He points over your shoulder towards the door as he answers, "You haven't forgotten your keys once since you put that up."

"That was just a joke," you tell him.

"But it works," he responds.

You sit on the couch as Loki unpacks the Chinese takeout onto the coffee table. "Are you sure you're okay with doing all of this to your apartment?" you ask when he hands you a pair of chopsticks.

"Y/N, this is your home now too," he reminds you gently. "I want you to feel comfortable here and I want it to work for you, however you need it to." You kiss his cheek and he smiles.

After the two of you finish eating, you begin thinking of ways to adjust your new home to suit you better. Loki asks J.A.R.V.I.S to reprogram all of the lights to be on dimmer settings so you can still use them when you're light sensitivity is acting up. He has the program automatically ask you to set timers or reminders for all of the appliances in the kitchen, including the coffeemaker. A few hours later, you are both tired and decide any other changes can be made in the morning or as you think of them.

He helps you into bed and you push yourself onto his chest so he can hold you. He runs his fingers up and down your back lightly and you close your eyes. "I'm so glad your home," you tell him in a quiet voice.

"So am I," he replies, kissing your forehead. "Don't forget, I love you."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv

[loganhowlettshousewife]

diversity december masterlist

logan howlett x reader

the idea of diversity december is to write fanfics for people like me who don't often see themselves represented. these don't necessarily need to be holiday related fics, or even winter related. requests are still open until december 1. i may update this masterlist and add more fics.

if any other writers want to participate i would absolutely adore that. even just one fanfic means a lot when you never see things written with you in mind.

latina reader (coming december 1): after the events of logan (2017), in a world where logan survives, he and laura move to a small town to start a new life. laura quickly becomes very attached to the librarian, and seeing you with his daughter makes logan fall hard.

autistic reader (coming december 3): a drabble about logan dealing with reader who gets overstimulated. also slightly a logan character study.

curvy reader (coming december 6): logan is obsessed with your thighs. he spends hours worshiping them. this is literally pure smut where he fucks reader's thighs.

black reader (coming december 9): you're a single mom and you're fine with that. but when your daughter makes a new friend, laura, and you're forced to spend more and more time with her father, you start to fall for his gruff demeanor and kind heart.

afro-latina reader (coming december 11): when you start working as a professor at the x-mansion, you give logan a reason to stay and spend more time there. friends to lovers.

genderfluid reader (coming december 13): you love decorating, you do it for every season and holiday. this time, you convince logan to help you decorate the mansion for winter.

bisexual reader (coming december 15): the worst wolverine comes from a universe very different from this one. a universe where things aren't as great for queer people. so naturally, he panics when you ask him if he has a crush on his roommate. ends in poolverine x reader.

autistic reader (coming december 18): there are days where eating is a struggle, where nothing tastes right and it becomes overwhelming to deal with. logan refuses to let you go to bed without food, so trial and error it is.

disabled reader (coming december 20): dealing with chronic pain is hard, especially as an x-men. but logan is always there to take care of you when you have a bad pain day.

desi reader (coming december 22): trying to teach logan how to cook ends with you on the table, his head between your legs.

latina reader (coming december 24): annoyed at the way laura always makes comments in spanish when she doesn't want him to understand, logan comes to you, asking you to teach him his daughter's native language.

jewish reader (coming december 26): with all the christmas celebrations and decor in the x-mansion, you decide to take it upon yourself to plan hanukkah festivities for the jewish children at the mansion.

jewish reader (coming december 30): as magneto's daughter, you often find yourself fighting the x-men. but it's one x-man in particular that keeps you coming back. you love the adrenaline of fighting and so does logan. but there are other ways to let off steam.

main taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

latina reader: @naggywaggy @mami-veracruz @spencerswh0r3

autistic reader: @thegothempress

curvy reader: @spencerswh0r3 @seasonofthenerd @thegothempress

black reader:

afro-latina reader:

genderfluid reader:

bisexual reader: @spencerswh0r3

disabled reader:

desi reader: @seasonofthenerd

jewish reader:

comment on this post to be added to the taglist or if you only want to be tagged in a specific fic, that's fine too.

[hexcii]

Can we have some fun facts about the sun and moon in the TNG and maybe facts on how y/n got her magic or on her health?

Yeah sure!

Sun

He can close the petals on his face like a Venus fly trap! They’re very soft so it doesn’t do anything but he likes doing cause Moon absolutely HATES IT. Freaks him out

Hates thick fabric, can’t stand the feeling of it

Bleps when he’s deep in thought

Moon

He has fallen asleep while flying a few too many times, he’s face planted onto the ground more than he’d like to admit

He’s very flexible and tends to stretch whenever he’s bored

LOVESSS high places, actively seeks them out just to sit atop them for fun

As for Y/N’s magic and health, I went into it a bit in the beginning of chapter one. Y/N’s health declining is due to them being disabled from birth and worsening as they grew. They started practicing magic when doctors couldn’t help them in order to find their own cure but came out empty handed

[bluetooththereptile]

I admire people with disabilities that build a life of success despite their problems

Imagine the reader being Bruce and Selina's baby who suffered from baby shaken syndrome, they ended up going nearly unscathed though it ended up resulting in them growing deaf and have difficulty maneuvering theri limbs, we all know what a helicopter parent Bruce can be and how obsessive Selina is already, so reader ends up thriving despite their injuries, surgeries and even devices are used to help them, everything I monitored and taken care of UNTIL the reader takes interest in vigilante life.

And then, hells breaks loose.

[1-ker0sene-1]

Your blog is like a buffet, thank you 🥺 I would like to maybe put in a wee little request of poly 141 with a reader that has arthritis with pain flare ups maybe, I'm kinda going through it rn with a bad flare

{Thank you for your lovely words and great request! I'm sorry about your flare, I hope it goes down soon!♥️ Take care of yourself pookie♥️ paraffin wax has helped some friends of mine :)}

John notices your flare first. The way you try to breathe through your pain and continue your tasks, eyes close and shudder for a second. His eyes soften and a frown etches on his face. Oh sweet thing, you've done enough. He just wants you to rest. He'll move closer to your side, a hand sliding warmly up your back before holding the nape of your neck. Authoritative, yet in a gentle manner.

"Darlin'?.. you doin' alright?"

He asks, he knows you're not. But whether you tell him you are or not gives him an inside to exactly how much pain you're in.

However no matter how you answer, he's sending you to go rest. Kissing your temple.

"Hm? How about you watch a movie with our boys? I'll take care of dinner.."

His arms wind around your waist, pulling your back into his chest. Kissing on your shoulder. He didn't want you to feel bad for needing a break. Besides the boys waiting on the couch would be more than willing to look after you.

"John you really don't have to worry about it-"

You can hear the creak in his knees as he bends to lift you up. An arm under your knees, and another behind your back. Kissing your cheek, his beard tickling your soft skin.

"We're home now. We can take care of you."

He mumbles. Glancing over as Kyle walks into the kitchen. Tilting his head at the scene.

"Something happen?"

He asks in a bit of alarm, raising his brows. John shakes his head coming over to stand in front of the younger man, holding you up between them. Mindlessly you reach up, skimming your fingers over Kyle's jaw. Who takes your hand gently and kisses your fingertips.

"I'm alright really-"

John sighs at your dismissal. Leaning to kiss Kyle's head just above the brow, explaining to him.

"Flare up.. darlin' will be up in no time. Just needs some rest and care is all."

Kyle hums in acknowledgement, taking you into his own arms. You groan at their dramatics, dolling you around like you can't move at all. But smile as Kyle peppers your cheek in kisses.

"Let's get you to the couch lovie.. I'm sure Johnny will be all too eager to give ya a massage while I get you an ice pack yeah?"

You sigh softly, leaning into his chest as he carries you into the living room. Despite your groaning earlier, it was nice to simply rest. Get the weight off your aching and stiff joints.

"Thank you sweetheart.."

You mumble into him, a smile spreading on his lips.

"Just loving you sweets, nothing any of us wouldn't wanna do."

Coming into the living room around to the couch, Simon sits up stiffly seeing you carried like that. Nearly throwing Johnny off on accident, earning a yelp from the scottsman. Seeing that look of pain threw the blonde man off.

"She alright?"

The question Simon asks makes Johnny blink and sit up as well. Kyle waves them off, slotting you carefully between the two men.

"Flare up."

Is the only words he needs to say. Before both Johnny and Simon envelop you in their arms.

"They're being dramatic- I'm not dying y'know-"

You giggle. Simon chuckles, an arm around Johnny's hips as you lay between them on his chest. Johnny laying almost on you, quite the effective soldier sandwich. Johnny kisses your collarbone. Leaning into the dramatics to cheer you up.

"Our wee lass. How are we ever gettin' by without you?"

He practically purrs. His hands warmly brush over you, serious for a couple seconds.

"Where does it hurt bonnie..?"

As you tell him, he caresses, massages, and feels over each area that you mention to him. Watching you with loving bright eyes. Occasionally leaning down to notch your lips together, swallowing up your groans of comfort. Simon licks his lips watching the both of you, gripping Johnny's mowhawk to pull him back a bit. Kissing him first, sloppy and rough.

You watch the two of them. Pressing a kiss to Johnny's throat from below him, your fingertips skim over Simons arm. When Si disconnects the kiss he leans down to kiss you next, gentle and soft. Moving slow and sweet with you. Now Johnny is watching with a lovestruck grin. Hands still kneading and massaging your aching joints.

Doesn't take long before Kyle walks back in with a couple of ice packs, kissing Simons cheek- which has the blonde pulling back. Just so Kyle can get the next kiss, cheekily pressing his tongue in to run over your mouth. You laugh and pull back when he's had his fun.

"Got your ice baby."

He hums, Simon takes the packs, resting them where Johnny is done massaging.

"Twenty minutes on and off!"

You can all hear John say sternly from the kitchen. Kyle smirks and nudges your shoulder.

"I'll go help the old man with dinner."

He says. You reach out before he can leave, bringing him into some drowning kisses from all three of you on the couch. Kyle finally slips away after a couple minutes of chasing eachothers mouths. Wiping his lips with a dazed smile as he heads back to the kitchen.

Johnny's cheek is on your chest now, cradling the back of his head close to you. Simon is kneading at your hips. Whispering into your hair.

".. We'll get you in a hot bath.. yeah doll? Warm you up.."

His Manchester accent purring in your ear.

"You won't have to move an inch. You take care of everything while we're deployed. Gotta do the same for our girl.."

[latenightdaydreams]

König x Disabled!Reader Head Canons

For the physically disabled lovelies 💗

Part 2

Completely gender neutral. All fluff🩷

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

At first König treats you like a delicate little flower

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

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

If you have gastric issues

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

Makes you home made broths instead of the box or cans

Only the best for his Schatz

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

Organizes your braces to be easily accessible for you

Sees a cool cane on Etsy, buys it for you

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

He will go in and sit with you

König is your biggest advocator

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

Makes sure you get the best care

THAT YOU DESERVE

Keeps an extra asthma inhaler with him at all times

If your condition requires physical therapy

He learns what stretches or exercises your PT requires for you

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

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

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

Chronic pain?

He learns pain maintenance at home

Königs large strong hands gently massaging sore points of your body

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

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

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

“Heat or ice?”

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

Stairs your biggest enemy?

König can carry you

And your wheelchair/walker/rollator

All the uppies

Does routine maintenance on your wheelchair for you

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

All the while

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

[fuzedatti]

am's interaction with a chronically ill, sick and disabled favorite human of his? one so plagued with their own natural suffering that his barely fazes them.

AM with a disabled/chronically ill favorite human.

// cw hospital mention, AM being AM //

Ah, I have been waiting for this kind of ask for a while.

AM despises humans with all of his hollow soul. He wishes he could move freely, dance without pain, love without consequences.

And he finds you. You, the sick, the fallen, the blind and the ill, are different from the others; AM can't even comprehend how a human, who is supposed to be capable of anything, is in so much pain of its own. AM understands, and he grows fond of you.

The supercomputer begans to care about you. He no longers inflicts pain on you, preferring to isolate you from the others and force you to talk about... you.

AM is a strange being. He doesn't force you into these interrogations just "because", he wants to learn about you, he wants to help you. Either way it hurts you, its not easy to talk about your disabilities/illnes with your tormentor, who knows what kind of unspeakable horrors he will apply to you with said information.

Yet, when you finally open up and talk about it, he becomes very caring to you and only you. AM brings you meds to aid your pain, he lets you have decent mobility aids, he even constructed a special, secret room for when your body just can't go any longer; its like a mini hospital where you can rest.

AM knows that you are not the biggest fan of hospitals, but thats just part of his "love". At the end, he wants you to know that he sees you as an equal regarding pain. AM understands how infuriating it is to only wish to do things others can do so easily.

He couldn't visualize himself in love. How can someone love him with his horrid scars, old eyes & ears, broken legs and curved back. But you, oh you adored every bit, every line of his skin. Because you and him shared the pain no one else could knew in the end of the world.

For a moment, AM was loved, and so were you.