#don't touch my wheelchair <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[this-simplefeeling]

they did it!! they actually did it!!!! good disability representation in a sci fi setting!

the moment in the star beast where shirley has to stay behind while the troops go up the stairs is perfect. it's not overly tragic, it's just how it is and that's that. i'm SOO so glad they didn't have like some bullshit rocket in the chair that made her fly or some shit. they just let there be a representation of an obstacle we encounter on a daily basis and have to be okay with. kissing rtd on the mouth for that.

[fuctacles]

"You said you weren't dating"

Happy New Year @stevesjockstrap <3 I'm sorry this is late, this is def not what you (or I) had in mind and I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, I will coontinue this soon :')

Also fill for my @fourormore bingo "Didn't know they were dating"

Ships: Corroded Coffin, Steve/Gareth | 2.6k | M | CC living together (AND THEY WERE ROOMMMATES), pre-relationship, Jealousy, Jealous and confused Eddie, confused Steve, some flavor of a/demi-sexuality happening

"Gaaaareeeeeth!"

"Eeeeedieeeeeeeee!"

Jeff sighs. Every day he questions his choice in friends. Did he really have to pick the ones that use echolocation to find each other? It's not like the apartment is that big anyway. 

Eddie jumps off the last few steps with a thud, and not for the first time, he worries one day he's going to break a leg doing so. And how a lead guitarist on a wheelchair will look in a metal band?

"Could you not jump like that?" he asks, knowing full well it will have no impact on Eddie's behaviour. But at least his conscience will be silent. 

"I could, but where's the fun in that?" Eddie grins at him as he passes, trying to pat his head but Jeff ducks out of the way. He just started growing it out. 

"Yeah, walking in a cast will be hella fun too," he mumbles, but gets completely ignored as Eddie has already entered the kitchen. 

"What is it that I'm hearing of you hogging the garage this Thursday?" he asks as soon as he sees Gareth.

His answer is a loud sniffle and a choked voice. 

"What's it to you? I just need it."

Eddie furrows his brows, suddenly worried.

"You okay, man?"

But as he steps closer he can see it's just the loads of onions Gareth's been trying to chop all by himself. He rolls his eyes. 

"Outta the way, nerd," he commands as he hip-checks his friend away from the counter. "Wash your hands and face, I don't want no snot in my food."

Gareth snorts softly, but goes to the sink to do as he was told. 

"You have at least three extra pairs of hands on deck, you should learn how to use them," Eddie half-heartedly scolds him.

"I know, I know," Gareth groans like an exasperated teenager, making Eddie smile. He was the youngest of the group and sometimes fell into that role way too easily.

"So, what do you need the garage for that doesn't involve your band? Working on a solo project already?" Eddie tries prying again. He can already feel the sting of his eyes, but keeps chopping. 

Gareth hums. 

"Yes and no," he says eventually. "It is a solo project, but I'm doing it with another person."

Eddie turns to him, blinking slowly while a singular tear rolls down his cheek. 

"What?"

His friend tears off a paper towel to dab at his face.

"I saw an ad that someone is looking for a musician to help with a personal project. And I answered it," he explains simply. 

Eddie leans away from his touch, his eyes wide in shock. 

"You're inviting a stranger into our metal haven to play their boring personal shit?" 

"Yes," Gareth deadpans. "Well, I haven't met him yet, so I don't know how boring it is. I just thought it would be fun to do something different."

"What's wrong with our thing?" Eddie bristles. 

"Nothing?" Gareth frowns. "I just wanted to try something else?"

"Traitor!" his guitarist slams the knife on the counter. "Betrayer of bands! Of sacred blood brother bond!" he seethes, escaping the kitchen. 

Gareth sighs. 

"You never did the blood pact," he murmurs to himself. He grabs the abandoned knife to drop it into the sink. At least all the onion has been chopped. 

"Hey, Gar?" Doug enters the kitchen with a confused frown. "Why is Eddie crying and telling me you're ditching us for some guy?"

===

It's Thursday and Eddie is seething. Faint sound of drums is coming from the garage, short, sharp, and unprofessional. Why is Gareth wasting his time on this guy? He didn't even come through the front door to properly introduce himself. What a jerk.

"Are you gonna just sit there like that?" Jeff asks him with a raised eyebrow, spotting him as he flies down the stairs. 

"He has to come up here at some point," Eddie roundaboutly answers that 'yes, absolutely'.

"And what then?" Jeff crosses his arms. "You're gonna give him a shovel talk? For paying our drummer for music lessons?"

Eddie's eyes widen.

"He's paying him?" 

"Obviously?" his friend scoffs.

"Gareth's a whore," Eddie gasps in mortified realization. 

Jeff shakes his head with a tired sigh, heading for the door.

"Honestly, you could follow his example, the rent isn't going to pay itself," he says, lacing up his boots.

"I am looking!" Eddie seethes.

"And I," Jeff stands back up and throws on his jacket. "Am off to work. Look harder." He salutes his friend before going out.

Eddie shakes his middle finger at the closed door. But then, he deflates. Jeff is right, he hasn't been very successful in finding a job, but he didn't want to do something that was completely meaningless and sucked the joy out of his soul. Nevertheless, he grabs the freshest issue of the local paper and flips it to the ad section.

At the very least it's a good pass-time for his stake-out mission.

His willing a pen to fly into his hand when the basement door opens to the sound of laughter.

"—all wrapped up in the shower curtain, yelling for me to kill a spider. He—Oh, hi Eddie! This is our lead guitar, Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."

Eddie gapes at his friend and the stranger in his house. 

Well, not exactly a stranger. Everybody from his year, and his second year, and half of his third year, knew of Steve fucking Harrington. The one and the same now waggling his fingers at him with an awkward smile. 

"Hi," he says like he hasn't been tainting Eddie's drummer with his whole jock thing.

"You're telling him our story," he goes ignored so Eddie can seethe with accusations at his friend. 

"Yeah?" Gareth raises an eyebrow at him. "I have half the rights to it?" he points out. He motions to Steve. "Bathroom is right under the staircase."

"Thanks," Steve skitters away, relieved to be out of eyesight. 

Eddie is ready to tear Gareth a new one about telling a random guy the story he always tells, but he's beaten to it by his friend's furious glare.

"Why are you rude to him?" he grits out quietly so his voice doesn't carry all the way to the bathroom. "He's our guest."

"He's your guest," Eddie corrects. "I didn't invite him."

"Well, he's also paying me to come up with music for his songs, so you could at least not make him leave and find a friendlier place to do so."

Eddie scoffs. 

"And what are these songs about? Boobs and parties?"

Gareth takes a fleeting glance at the bathroom door, before hurrying to the couch to lean over it and get closer to Eddie.

"They are actually so depressing, dude," he whispers. "Like, I'm kind of worried about the guy."

"I'm kind of not believing you," Eddie pulls a skeptical face. 

"Remember the song Jeff wrote after Toffee died? They're all like that."

"Oh shit."

The bathroom doors open and they jump away from each other so they wouldn't look like they were whispering behind his back.

"Hi, uh," Eddie swallows his pride for the time being. "Sorry for being a dick, guess I just don't like when someone steals my favorite drummer." He shrugs with an awkward smile.

Steve, thank gods, laughs good-naturedly. 

"Ah no worries. I promise I'll give him back in perfect condition."

He smiles, but not at Eddie, at Gareth, who gives an awkward chuckle. Eddie looks between them, the interaction blasting alarm bells in his head. 

"Want something to drink?" Gareth ask his paying guest. 

"Oh I'm parched." The infuriating smile, no, a smirk, turns up a notch. 

Suddenly, Eddie loathes the idea of these two being out of public eye for even a second. 

===

"Okay, but like, why a drummer?"

Doug shrugs.

"Because it's a less popular, in demand instrument? It's easy to find a guitar," he pointedly motions to the three of them. 

"But why—"

"Eds!" Jeff interrupts him with annoyance in his voice. "Because Steve offered to pay and Gareth answered the ad? It's quite simple."

Eddie bites his lip. He's running out of reasonable arguments on why he doesn't like that his friend is hanging one on one behind closed doors with a former king of jocks. 

"So you guys are okay with that?" he asks, a bit petulantly. When only silence answers him, he looks around his friends. They're both crossing their arms with a sour expression. He raises his eyebrows. "Well?"

"Not really," admits Doug. 

"Yeah, no," agrees Jeff. 

Doug uncrosses his arms only to cross them the other way.

"I just don't— I'm not angry that he took an extra gig."

"I'm kind of proud, actually," Jeff pipes up. 

"Yeah," Doug nods. "But I don't trust Steve. He gives off this vibe like he's going to snatch Gareth from us at any moment, which is ridiculous," he snorts. "But it's how it feels."

"I can see that, yeah," Eddie nods eagerly, relieved that he's not the only one to feel weird about this thing. "I just don't like how he looks at Gareth, like he's just..."

"Like he's another person to bend to his will."

"Yeah, with this prince charming smile of his!"

"Yeah!" 

"What if he's an evil sorcerer—"

"—a wannabe bard with maxed out Charisma—"

"Oh yeah, yeah, totally—!"

They cut off suddenly when the garage door opens. 

"Hi, guys!"

Eddie squints with distrust at Steve's Prince Charming smile. 

"Hi, Steve."

"Mind if I..." He motions towards the bathroom."

"Not at all, be our guest. Want something to drink?" 

Both Eddie and Jeff glare at Doug after his offer. 

"Oh, if you have some tea, that would be nice." Steve rubs his neck in a very un-jock way. Probably to lower their defenses. "I didn't know singing dries your mouth this much," he chuckles awkwardly. 

"You sing?" Eddie raises his eyebrow in surprise. 

"Well, I'm trying to."

"And he's doing it really good," Gareth picks up, emerging from the basement as well. He pushes Steve gently towards the bathroom, and he goes with a small laugh.

Eddie doesn't like this familiarity between them. When he looks around, the others don't seem thrilled either. 

"Speaking of," Gareth slumps between his friends on the couch, seemingly unaware of the energy in the room. "I'd like him to use his voice properly, but he's hella self conscious you'll hear him, so could you leave for a bit next week?"

His friends gape at him.

"Just an hour," he adds.

"You want us..."

"...to leave our house..."

"...so Harrington can abduct you and steal our gear?"

Everyone turns to look at Eddie.

"Okay, man, I think you're exaggerating, just a little bit."

"I admit he makes me a bit paranoid," he crosses his arms, scrunching his nose in distaste. 

"Guys, don't be assholes," Gareth sighs. "He's a cool guy, I think we even could be friends."

Now everyone's eyes turn to him.

"We are your friends," Jeff points out. He's offended, aghast. Eddie nods vigorously to show he's also offended and aghast. 

"I can't have an extra friend outside of the band?" Gareth crosses his arms, his expression turning stormy. 

"You can," Doug hurries to placate him. "But you know how he's been in high school."

"High school was years ago," he points out. "He's chill now."

The door to the bathroom open and everyone go silent. Steve, caught under their stares, seems to shrink in on himself. 

"I'll wait in the garage," he points to the door before skittering off. 

Gareth turns back to his bandmates, arms falling at his sides with a sigh.

"You don't have to trust him, but you could trust me, at least."

They're silent for a beat, until Jeff sighs and nudges him in the arm. 

"You're right, sorry. We'll give you guys some space."

"For the vocal lessons," Doug adds, like there was anything else they could be talking about. "I'll go make that tea." He stands up to make a tactical escape to the kitchen.

Gareth turns to Eddie, the last one to say anything. 

"Fine!" he throws his hands in the air with a pained expression. "But only because you're using," he makes a vague gesture in Gareth's general direction. "Those eyes of yours."

"Eyes of mine?" his friend seems amused, for better or worse.

"Ugh, you know what I'm talking about!" Eddie stands up and storms off to his room, followed by confused stares.

"He'll come around," Jeff pats Gareth's knee. 

"I fucking hope so."

====

"He said an hour," Eddie points out for the fifth time, while fishing for his set of keys. 

"Pretty much he didn't mean one hour from the moment you leave."

"Yeah, more like an hour of their actual session."

"Well, he didn't specify, so that's on him," Eddie scoffs, before triumphantly pulling out the keys from the pocket he's already searched. 

They open the door and push each other inside to escape the chilly winter air as soon as possible. 

Eddie, being the first to stumble into the foyer slash corridor amalgamation opening into their living room, gasps. Someone else makes a startled sound, Jeff bumps into him, and they almost trip when the full picture in front of them gains clarity. 

Gareth leaning against Steve Harrington, lips bruised from kisses and hair sticking out at weird angles, the other's hand on his hip. He quickly pushes it off and backs away form Steve. 

"Why are you guys back so early?" he bristles at his friends. 

"Apparently to catch you cheating?!" Eddie yells out, scrambling out of his jacket because the sudden spike in anger made him feel like he was boiling from the inside. 

Steve's head snaps towards Gareth. 

"You said you weren't dating."

"We're not!" he groans, tired and exasperated. "Eddie is just being dramatic."

"I'm dramatic?!"

"Yes!"

"I think you should leave, Steve," Doug pipes up, falsely calm. His voice is unsteady, when he speaks, so Jeff sends him a cursory glance to find him just looking sad. Betrayed, even.

"Yeah. Leave, Steve," Eddie picks up happily.

Steve looks to Gareth, and he gives him a nod. 

"I've got this. I'll see you later."

"Okay," Steve gives him a nod and hesitates like he's about to give him a goodbye kiss, but thinks better of it. "See you," he simply says, disappearing into the garage. 

They wait in tense silence until the sound of closing garage doors is followed by the start of an engine outside. 

"What the fuck, Gareth?!" Jeff bursts out.

"Yeah, what the fuck?! Harrington?! Really?!"

"What the fuck you guys!" Gareth bristles back. "I can't even kiss a guy in my own home?!"

"It's our home," Doug corrects him.

"So? Do we have a no-boyfriends policy now?" 

"Boyfriend?" 

They all recoil at the word. Even Gareth seems surprised by using it himself. 

"I mean, he's not, but if he was," he fumbles. "You know what I mean!"

"What do you even need a boyfriend for?!" Eddie bristles, making more than one pair of eyes turn to him with confusion. 

"Sex? Kissing? Dates?" Gareth offers incredulously.

Eddie waves his hands.

"So? We're here! You should have just asked!"

"I should have asked," Gareth repeats at him slowly, so he understands what he has just said. "To have sex with you."

Eddie falters a little bit. 

"Yeah? We're friends, right?" he says, suddenly less sure of himself. "We trust each other. Right?"

"Right," Jeff parrots him, sounding a bit doubtful. "But like..."

"Okay," Doug pipes up suddenly. 

"Huh?" 

They all turn to him now. He shrugs.

"Let's have sex."

tags: @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @wheneverfeasible

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute, Chapter 4 - Law

Source for the pic

Word Count: 4487 (these just keep getting bigger!)

Warnings: Fem!Reader, This is going to be a series featuring Ace, Sanji, Law, Zoro and Kid.

Special Warning: English is not my first language!

Summary: You had your life in Grand Line City all figured out. A wonderful job, a fiancé and a shared apartment. Until you found out he was cheating. Your father, Shanks, had a horse riding accident and you decided that this was just the right time to return home. You were expecting a peaceful, uneventful life back in the Calm Belt, but, fate had other plans.

Notes: I'm really sorry if I messed up some medical expressions. I tried to Google everything first!

| Chapter 3 - Zoro | |Chapter 5 - Sanji|

Law:

Your dad's grunts and wails have been increasing both in volume and in intensity, so you let out a long breath of relief as you finally park the truck at the clinic’s - thankfully almost empty - parking space. 

“Hey, dad” you say softly as your heart clenches at the sight of your father’s sweaty face and scrunched up brows. “I'm going to grab you a wheelchair and some help, okay?”

You take his grunt as a positive answer and run inside the clinic, only noticing your dishevelled state as you catch sight of your reflection in the glass doors: your white top is not white anymore and there's a tear at the bottom; your shorts have dirt and oil all over them; you don't even want to get started on your knees and legs, which are bruised and scraped from kneeling on the dirt; and your once perfectly braided hair is no longer perfect and it is barely braided. 

You sigh as you enter the clinic and wince in pain as you step your foot wrong. You definitely sprained it when you were with Zoro. 

You drag yourself to the front desk and the blonde girl gasps as she looks at your state. “Oh, my!” She gets up hastily and goes around the desk to reach you. “Are you all right?”

You nod frantically. “I'm fine, I'm fine. I-... Kaya?”

The girl looks at you with a furrowed brow but it doesn't take her more than five seconds before her mouth turns into an ‘o’ and she exclaims your name happily. “You're back! It's been ages!”

You laugh and nod. “Yes, we should catch up. After we get my father inside. He hurt his back and-...”

“Again?” You swear this time your ears start fuming. This has happened more than once and this doctor keeps sending him home? Oh, he is going to get a piece of your mind. “Shachi, Penguin, can you be darlings and bring Mr. S. inside? He's had another incident.”

You cross your arms against your chest and frown as you watch two men go outside with a wheelchair to bring your father inside. 

“They'll take him to Dr. Trafalgar. How about you, sweetie, are you alright? You don't seem well.” Kaya was your friend from kindergarten to half of the middle school, until she went home to be home-schooled. You lost touch with her even before you left town, but she has always been such a nice friend that you actually find yourself sharing a soft smile with the blonde. 

“I've had a few mishaps with the car before getting here.” You sigh. “I'll go freshen up in the bathroom and then I'll meet my dad. Is that alright?”

She nods and points you to the ladies’ room. You stand in front of the mirror and, as you're passing your fingers through your hair, trying - and failing - to detangle its knots, you realise you should eat something. You discarded breakfast on account of that stupid asshole and his selfies, and you and your father didn't have a chance to eat lunch. 

But first, you let out a deep sigh at your appearance, you should try to make yourself presentable. You don't want to chew the doctor's ears out looking like a hobo. 

Washing up as best as you can, massaging your sprained ankle, and redoing your braid - there's nothing to be done about the state of your clothes - you deem yourself somewhat presentable and, as you leave the bathroom, you see your father being wheeled to a room so you follow him quickly. 

“Daddy!”

“Buuuuuug! The doc gave me the good stuff!” He slurs and guffaws, opening his arm and almost throwing himself off the chair to hug you. Then he turns his voice into a whisper. “He stabbed a needle in ma butt!” Shanks uses his hand to hide his cheeky laugh before he continues. “Imma stay here for a while because they'll put some more drugs in my arm. And then we can go.”

What? IV and an injection? That's the whole treatment? No. Not on your watch. 

“Yeah, that's good dad, rest.” You smile at him and then turn to the man with the brown hair who is wheeling him. “Hey, where's the doctor's office? I need to speak with him.”

“Er… I… Hum… Dr. Trafalgar doesn't like unannounced visitors…” He stutters but you silence him with an angry look. “But if you must know, it's that door.” He then chuckles nervously and wheels Shanks to a room. 

You take a deep breath and stomp towards the office the attendant pointed out to you. After one step, you stop stomping because your ankle hurts too much, but you still make it to your destination. You knock lightly on the door, because you're not a savage, but start to tap your foot on the floor when you don't get an immediate answer. 

As you raise your fist for a second round of angrier knocks, you hear a deep ‘come in’ from inside the office and you open the door, wearing a frown. 

Which is quickly turned into a stunned expression because you didn't quite know what to expect from the doctor you've been hearing about, but this was not it. 

He's hot. 

There's no other way to describe the man in front of you. His black hair is tousled to perfection and you have to swallow a lump when he fixes his amber gaze upon your own. The frown and the furrowed brows only add to his allure, as you notice the tattooed forearms and knuckles. What an interesting choice of tattoos for a doctor, you can't help but think. 

They spell DEATH. 

The rest of his arms are covered by his white coat but you can't help but wonder if he has more ink on them. But that wondering soon stops, because he's already asked you twice about what you need and you have been transfixed in the same spot, drooling at him. 

“Right, hi! My father. Shanks! He was just here.” You exclaim as if that explains everything. 

“Yes, I know. I'm his doctor.”

He stares at you. “Oh, it’s my turn.” You stumble with your words and, is that an amused smirk in the stoic doctor’s face? Couldn't be, since it disappeared as soon as it appeared. “What is wrong with him? I keep hearing that he needs to come to the clinic more than once a week because of his back. That's not normal.” You seem to regain your cool and remember that you are there to get some answers from this man. 

He leans back in his chair and gestures for you to sit but you're too wound up to stay still, so you decline and start pacing the office. You're having a hard time breathing, so you start to fan yourself with your hand. 

“You're right, it's not.”

“What is it, then?”

His fingers entwine with one another as his gaze follows your form. You're limping, fanning both of your hands now, and you look like shit. You must be quite a spectacle.

“Doctor/patient confidentiality.”

“Are you kidding me?” Does your voice usually sound so far away? Because everything seems super bright and all the sounds are blending together. You stop and grip the back of the chair tightly, your knuckles turning white from the strength. 

“I'm not. Your father is sane and, other than his back, of good health. I have discussed treatment plans with him. He knows what he has and he knows what he needs to do in order to recover. To you, I can't say anything without his explicit permission.” You see him tense up as he stares at you and your behaviour. His brows furrow further as he turns his body to the side, as if he's about to get up. 

“But I'm his daughter!” You let out a ridiculous whine and start to gasp for air. 

“And I'm his doctor.” He gets up and approaches you. “Sit. You're so pale I can almost see through you. When was the last time you ate and-...”

That's the last thing you remember before waking up in a bed next to your father. 

-*-

You blink as your eyes adjust to the brightness of the room and take shallow breaths. Your head is throbbing and the constant beeping noise from the machine is not helping you at all. You realise that the beeping machine is hooked to you through your finger, as well as an IV attached to your arm. 

You raise your torso with a grunt and see that the cuts and bruises on your legs have been tended to, and your ankle is now sporting a not-so-fashionable elastic bandage with a pack of ice sitting on it. 

“Bug! You’re up!” Your dad flails his arm in the bed next to you to get you to look at him. “Law! Kaya! Someone!”

Pressing your thumb and index finger against the bridge of your nose, you sigh deeply. “Dad, dad, there’s a button to call the nurse next to the bed, please don’t scream.”

But it’s not necessary to use the button because Kaya enters the room with a concerned smile and gravitates towards you. “Sweetie, how are you?” Her voice is so gentle and kind that it forces an immediate smile from your lips. 

“My head is killing me. What happened?”

“Well, Dr. Trafalgar said it’s probably hypoglycemia - low blood sugar - he had some blood tests done, the results should be in at any moment. Have you eaten anything today?”

You nod and are about to say yes, of course, but the words don’t leave your mouth because they are not true. You really haven’t eaten anything today. “No.”

“Then, that’s definitely it.” Kaya giggles. “I could hear you yelling at Dr. Trafalgar from where I was sitting. He looked kind of flustered when he opened the office door, carrying you in his arms.”

You blush as your eyes widen. “What?”

“Well, you were unconscious, so he carried you to the examination room.” She giggles again and lowers her voice so your father doesn’t hear the rest. “Sweetie, you two looked straight out of a romantic movie. He was carrying you bridal style with a look of concern and you looked rather frail all curled up against his strong frame.”

You keep feeling your face getting hotter as the beep from the machine next to you grows louder and faster. Kaya has always loved romantic movies, so it’s no wonder she would think something silly like this. For all you know, Dr. Trafalgar was dangling you by one arm and you banged your head on all the thresholds before reaching this room.

It would explain the throbbing headache. 

“Nurse Kaya, I do hope you’re questioning the patient about medical history and the possible cause of this incident and not engaging in idle gossiping?”

You gasp alongside Kaya as Dr. Trafalgar approaches you both, a scowl on his face and his brows scrunched. How is his forehead not permanently wrinkled from all the pouts and frowns?

“No, I was just gossiping. I’m sorry.” Kaya giggles as you gasp at her truthful response. Is she allowed to speak like this with her superior? His stare at Kaya is so intense that, after a moment, she excuses herself and leaves you two alone with your father on the other bed, seemingly distracted by a soap opera on TV, until he spots the doctor next to you.

“Oh, Law! How is my baby girl?”

“Don’t call me that, dad.” You whisper between clenched teeth. Law? Is that the doctor’s first name?

“I’m going to examine her now, Mr. S. You can watch your show.” Shanks mouths a droopy ‘okay’ and turns back to the TV. He is still pretty high on drugs, apparently. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” His amber eyes stare at yours and you feel compelled to look at his name tag, instead, but then you are staring at his chest, and is that more ink coming out from the neck of the shirt he is wearing? Does he have a chest piece?

The beeping becomes faster and you switch back to the piercing eyes. “No, I haven’t.” You say, trying to distract yourself. 

“It’s certainly hypoglycemia, then. I will observe you.”

You nod and he removes the stethoscope from his neck, pushing it against your exposed cleavage. “Breathe in.” You take a deep breath. “Now out.” You do. He takes a step forward and tells you to lean forward as he repeats the process on your back. “In. Out.” 

He reaches for a small pen-like flashlight from his coat pocket and points it at your eyes. “Look up. Down. Now the other one, up. Down. Okay, that’s it.”

“That’s it? Aren't you going to say I'm a good girl?” You giggle for a second and then stop abruptly. Suddenly mortified as his eyes pierce into your own with an unreadable expression. “I'm sorry. That was stupid. Are there drugs here?” You point to the IV and as his stare doesn't waver, the beeping on the machine just keeps getting faster and louder. 

“That's just a dextrose and saline solution. No drugs. That was all you.”

The machine just beeps louder and louder and you grunt as you rip the monitor off of your finger, rendering the beeping into a continuous, even more annoying, beep.

“Stupid thing! I think that might be broken.” You snort, wail and hide your face in your hands. Can you be an even bigger idiot? Why are you acting like this? Aren't you supposed to be yelling at this doctor on account of your father? Where has all of your bravado gone? 

Out the window when you passed out and were carried like a princess by her knight in shining armour. As well as all your sane thoughts on feminism and women’s rights, apparently.

Crap. 

“Are you done?” He asks, deadpan as he turns off the monitor and the beeping stops. Now you’re frustrated again, but you simply pout and nod without making eye contact. 

He flips through some files and hums softly. “Your blood tests came out normal. This was a simple incident of low blood-sugar, next time try not to stay too long without eating anything, or, at least, if you’re going to fast, drink plenty of liquids, tea or water, preferably.”

“I wasn’t fasting.” You mumble between clenched teeth, your eyes locked on the chipped nail polish that had come out when you ripped the monitor that was attached to your finger. 

“Whatever weird diet you are on, then. Stop it. You look extremely healthy, you don’t need it.” Could that have been a veiled compliment?

“M’not on a diet.” Your mumble is even quieter.

“Sorry?”

“I’m not on any diet, or fasting, or anything. I just didn’t eat, that’s all.” This time you speak loud and cross your arms over your chest for emphasis.

“You didn’t eat the breakfast I cooked, bug? Is this still because of that jackass fiancé that cheated on you?” Shanks is literally screaming so you know that, by now, the entire clinic knows you’ve been cheated on. Yet you simply inhale, use the back of your hand to wipe away a stray tear and nod.

“I'm going to kill him.” Shanks simply declares as he tries to get up from the bed. “Law, help me kill him.”

You glimpse that amused smirk on the corner of his lips as he watches your father struggling with the bed covers. 

“I would really like to be your partner in crime, Mr. S. But, you see, I took an oath.”

That statement makes you giggle and he turns his gaze back at you, smirk still in place, and your heart does a weird thing that makes you catch your breath. 

“Shove that oath up your-... Ouch, dammit!” Shanks’ legs get tangled in the sheets and he almost falls as he tries to get up. 

“Mr. S. please calm down. We're not killing anyone today okay?” Dr. Trafalgar turns to you. “He seems pretty determined, maybe you should distract him with something less illegal?”

Is he funny as well? He seems so stoic and uptight but he's responding to your father's shenanigans with a dark humour that's making you laugh. 

“Daddy, lie back down on the bed, we will schedule another day to kill him, I promise.” You use your commanding tone and your father grunts before settling back down again. “Besides, since it's the three of us together, I would like to ask you, Shanks, what's the treatment that Dr. Trafalgar recommended for your back because the Dr. doesn't want to share that information with me.”

Your lips turn thin as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“That's a good lad, Law. Thank you.”

You glare at both of them but Dr. Trafalgar just raises his arms defensively. “Doctor/patient confidentiality!”

“Dad!” You huff at the same time as your father groans loudly.

“Just tell her, Law. Or I'll never hear the end of it. And I still have a murder to commit.” He mumbles. 

You turn your attention back to the doctor and try your best not to give him your ‘see you could've told me earlier and we would've avoided this whole situation’ look, but you definitely give him one of those. 

“Your father has a herniated disc in his spine. This occurs when the soft inner core of a disc between the vertebrae protrudes through the tough outer layer, putting pressure on nearby nerves.” 

Your brows tighten at all the medical jargon but you're understanding the essentials, so you nod for him to continue. 

“Mr. S. experiences stabbing pain that radiates along the path of the affected nerve and can lead to episodes of intense pain and sometimes a feeling of weakness or numbness in the affected area. Activities that cause strain on the spine can make it worse. Something like bending down or lifting stuff.”

You turn to your father with a glare in your gaze, your frown heavy and your eyes watery. “I told you you should rest!” Your words are but a sliver that escapes your lips. Dr. Trafalgar continues.

“When the medication hasn't provided enough relief, as it's your father’s case, surgery may be recommended. The procedure typically involves removing the herniated portion of the disc to relieve pressure on the nerves and alleviate symptoms.”

The silence stretches and evolves into a thick fog that encapsulates the three of you within. Your next words are measured carefully, but need to be asked. “Is it a complicated procedure?”

Of course it is! It's on the spine! 

“Each case is unique on its own. The complexity can vary based on factors such as the location and size of the herniation, as well as your father's overall health.”

“And the risks?” Your gaze alternates between the doctor’s professional stance and your father's slumped and defeated form.

“Like any surgery there are inherent risks of infections or allergic reactions. Specifically to this surgery, there's always the chance of the symptoms remaining or that another surgery might be necessary. There's also a more severe risk of nerve damage, which can cause temporary numbness or weakness. Yet, in this case, I would argue that the benefits far outweigh the risks.”

“Dad…” You start. 

“I don't want to discuss this right now.” He discards the use of your nickname and calls you by your birth name, declaring his seriousness of the matter. 

Your lower lip trembles and you nod at him letting out a very soft ‘okay’. Suddenly, realisation hits you. This was probably the reason why he had the horse riding incident. It was the cause not the consequence. 

Dr. Trafalgar places a very gentle hand over yours and you gasp at the shock of his touch. “I will send nurse Kaya to remove your IV and your father's so you can both be on your way and discuss this properly.” You nod. “If you have any questions, you can always call me or visit the clinic.” You nod again, suddenly exhausted as your body starts to complain of all the abuse it suffered today. 

He leaves calling out a ‘take care, Mr. S.’ to your father at the door. Silence permeates the room as you turn and let your feet dangle from the bed, your eyes focusing on the lying form of Shanks. 

“Dad,” you start. “I know you don't want to talk about this, and I will respect your wishes, but just hear my opinion, you don't have to say anything!” You add and your father takes a deep breath but doesn't say anything so you take that as consent for you to continue. “You're young and very active. These episodes keep you from living a normal, fulfilling life. Dr. Trafalgar said that the benefits are far more than the risks and I think you should consider the surgery.”

The door opens up and Kaya comes in with a bright hello and a smile. “Think about it, dad.” You finish as Kaya stands at your side with a tray of equipment to relieve you of all the paraphernalia attached to your body. 

“So, how are we feeling?” She asks you as she swiftly disconnects the empty IV from your arm. 

You sigh and give her a lopsided smile. “I'm feeling better, Kaya, thank you.”

“Aaaaaand?” She giggles at you and your brows scrunch at her. “Dr. Trafalgar?”

You feel your cheeks grow hot, even if you will them not to. “He's very competent. He explained to me everything about my father's condition. He's very professional. I'm impressed.” As you admit this, you realise that maybe you should apologise to him for your earlier behaviour but maybe he's with another patient now. 

“That's not where I was going.” She pouts at you. “He's single, you know?”

You wince as she takes out the needle in your vein and puts a bandaid over it. “That's… okay, I guess.” You don't really know what to say. Kaya seems to be trying to set you up, but you really don't want to think about men at this moment. 

“You're impossible!” She mutters your name as she shakes her head and removes the melted ice pack from your ankle. “There, you're done. I'll take care of your father and you both can leave.”

-*-

Penguin and Shachi insisted on taking your father to the car themselves and you were at the desk with Kaya, settling the payment and documents. You were exhausted. Physically and mentally. The news about Shanks had left you preoccupied and you were having trouble processing. 

As Kaya finished inserting some data on the computer, you sighed deeply and pressed the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb, closing your eyes and trying to suppress the growing throb in your head. 

Suddenly, you feel a presence on your side as a deep voice fills the air. “Are you feeling well?”

Opening your eyes and forcing a weary smile on your lips you slightly nod. “Just the culmination of all the exciting events of today, I guess. A throbbing headache.” You shrug. 

Dr. Trafalgar takes out a set of keys from his pocket and goes behind Kaya opening one of the cabinets and taking out two pills from one container. Then he goes to the water dispenser and fills a cup. 

“Give me your hand.” You open your palm as he sets the pills there, lightly brushing his long fingers against your skin. “Take them. It will relieve the pressure on your head.” You set the pills in your mouth. “Water.” He hands the cup to you and you drink it. Then he reaches into his pocket and takes out a wrapped onigiri. “Then eat this.” You reply with a meek ‘okay’. “Good girl.”

He smirks and you nearly choke to death on another sip of water. Then you burst out laughing and you notice that the smirk is still adorning his lips. Surprisingly, he laughs along with you and you are forced to admit that the way his deep voice slurred with the words ‘good girl’ made your knees buckle and your body tingle in very unholy places. 

“I'm sorry.” You start, as soon as the laughter dies down. “For overreacting earlier.”

“It's alright. I will blame your reaction on your abnormal state.” He says cheekily and you smirk back at him. 

“By the way, do you carry all your fainting patients in bridal style?”

He scratches the back of his head and looks down, seemingly embarrassed. “Just the cute ones.” The blush spreads from your cheeks to your nose and you're left speechless. Where had the stoic doctor gone? There seemed to be a cheeky flirt in his stead, did he have a twin?

“Thank you, Dr. Trafalgar, for everything.” You decide to finish the conversation there since you're liking it way too much, which can turn very dangerous. 

He nods. “It's Law.” You raise your brow at him. “My name, call me Law.”

“Law. Thanks.” His smirk turns into a slight smile that traps your gaze as you breathe slowly. Single, right? How? 

Kaya’s soft harumph seems to wake you both from your trance and Law excuses himself with work he has to do. “Don't be a stranger.” He adds and then wishes you and your father well before leaving. You sigh as you turn to Kaya, who's watching you with a knowing look and a very silly smile. 

“This was rom/com happening in real life, I swear. Girl, I'm dying here. You need to go on a date with him!” She squeals. “I don't think I've ever heard him laugh!”

“I'm not going on any date, Kaya.” You say, deadpan as you accept the receipts she hands you. “I'm off men at the moment, thank you very much.”

“Yeah we all heard your father. Sorry about your fiancé thing… Though maybe it was better to find out before the wedding actually happened!”

You nod. You couldn't agree more, actually. “I'm going to go now. Dad and I both need rest.”

You and Kaya exchange phone numbers, not wanting to fall out of touch with her, and wave goodbye. The exhaustion is taking its toll on you and you still have to try and convince your father to agree to the surgery. Maybe you'll leave that fight to another day, though. 

As you walk to the truck you unwrap the onigiri and take a small bite. It tastes homemade. Delicious. 

As scrumptious as Dr. Trafalgar Law, actually. 

No, nope. Not gonna happen. You shake your head as you take your seat ready to face the challenge of driving with a stick yet again. And somehow, between driving with a stick and trying to avoid thinking about Dr. Law, the first one seems like an easier challenge.

[deadwooddross]

PLEASE tell us your Opinions

oh noooo, aagh ooogh twist my aaarm Now excuse me while i ramble on about Wicked, ahem, Okay so really my musical opinions arent even bad mostly, it's very cute and catchy and popu-UUlar, and is kind of like....a nice little fan fiction compared to. the book. the two are Very different My main thoughts are: 1. Fiyero. Poor sweet Fiyero. Who keeps selecting these mayonnaise men when one of the first things ever described about him is the fact he has dark skin. Like...hello....he's from the desert/savanna region with nomads and elephants.... 2. Fiyero again, why GOD are we doing the same ancient "ohhh a boy between the giiirls, he like her not meee" schtick when it should actually be Glinda and Fiyero playing tug of war with Elphaba, if anything. They're both in love with her, this is textual, there is precedent for this. She's also very very focused on other things and keeps trying to wriggle out of affections tender touch even though she wants it so bad, you see. the big scaredy baby. 3.I actually like that the madam Morrible thing is a Little more...subtle. In the book its VERY in your face, but I like baby elphie being keen to injustice while also having a more vulnerable side that can be personally manipulated. All the more reason for her to be even more bitter and defensive about it Later 4.Nessarose...now this one i understand may have some caveats for the stage, but I don't really like that they put Nessa in a wheelchair. Spoilers if you haven't read it, but in the book she was born with no arms. Which I think is a unique choice, though I do have some criticisms on how it was handled in the book too. I'm curious if the new one about Elphie's childhood will go into it, but the thing about being born armless is that humans are VERY adaptable, and if anything fancy slippers would be something of a hindrance for someone who relies a lot on their feet. Nessa being sort of herded into functioning a certain way that forces her to be extremely reliant on everyone around her though...that'd still be interesting. Slippers of a well-meaning sort that only further lock her into a very specific expectation of existence, oh my 5. Accepting the the musical for what it is, my god it loses a lot of the fact that elphaba is a radical anti-fascist struggling against the wizard gestapo, and that's not even slightly an exaggeration dfhjdfhj. So in summary! I dont mind that it's a happier retelling, but I think it cuts out a little too much of what I like about the book to fully appreciate it. AND it makes Fiyero annoying to me, which is a shame because I like him in the book

[cipheramnesia]

Part 3: The Death, Rebirth, and Afterlife of Parasite Alice

The Riverside Clinic for Wellness and Long-term Care weathered safely the storms of the burn just as all the worst memories navigate the mindscape unimpeded. The venerable history of the red brick and white trimmed building carried it through the poor and homeless left in squalor to the airy chill of lobotomy and electroshock therapy, two wings wide and three floors tall. Its height well serviced its intent, too short for escape even via a yearning leap from the roof to its concrete driveway.

The persistance of such single-minded enclosure of the divergent mind carried forward to the interior, with mutiply sectioned floors along each wing navigable only through a network of stairwells. A more modern elevator spired through the center of the building, lever operated and gated by iron on all sides. None of the layers of white tile or muted gray carpet or soothing art prints or geometic wall paintings over the years could fully excise the prison lovingly built into the architecture. Inside, it promised no escape. Outside its dignified facade offered warm reassurance that aging loved ones to difficult children and everyone in between would be safely forgotten.

Some part of Alice understood all this as the square black truck complained about stopping at the brick stairs with their awkwardly late addition of a wheel chair accessible ramp, leading to wide white doors set with large windows blocked by gauzy white curtains. The driver helped her out of the car and she said, "I can do it just fine!" before almost falling as her legs wobbled. She didn't like strangers touching her, but now everyone was a stranger and she leaned on a stranger just for the simple task of reaching the door of the building where she will die of cancer.

The doors swung inward to reveal an average man with a surfeit of dignity to his gray peppered mustache and deep, dark eyes beneath a noble high forehead and a gently swept back head of mostly gray hair. His thick belly preceded his wide shoulders into any room, and his hands were noticeably large with thick fingers, moving quickly and nimbly to pull a wheelchair onto the small porch. He wore checked trousers, a pale yellow golf shirt, and his arms were exceptionally hairy.

"So good to meet you," he let one hand overtake his stomach to greet Alice, which she disregarded. "My name is Dr Hopewell, and I'm the administrator here at Riverside. I've heard quite a bit about you, and I wanted to make you comfortable right away. You're quite the special guest!" He smiled away the dignity of his profile.

"I don't need a wheelchair," she said. The driver shrugged and let her go, forcing her to grab to armrests to keep standing. "I'm just tired." She gave daggers out of her eyes to both men before maneuvering herself into the seat. "Don't get used to this."

The driver passed a clipboard over her head. "You gotta sign for the delivery, also initial there... and there. Sign and date there too. Okay, nice knowing you."

Dr. Hopewell was already turning her and rolling her into the building before the driver started the truck. "Don't worry Alice, we'll make sure you have the best of care here. You're a celebrity after all, but there may be a few bumps ahead!" They wheeled past a heavy wood door and a much larger orderly took over, pushing her down the hall then bumping up a flight of stairs.

"We specialize these days in unique individuals like yourself. I understand you won't persue treatment?" She folded her arms and rolled her eyes. "Well, if you change your mind, we can be ready to start immediately." The chair and orderly bumped back down stairs into another long hallway. "But here is your room, and we've put you with someone you should get along with. She's very unique."

The room was small, two beds with a curtain divider, wall mounted TV sets, a closet bathroom, one tall window and a few small sets of sad artificial wood drawers.

Another woman sat in a rolling tube frame chair in the far corner of the room. She was big and soft and still in pajamas, her belly stuck out a bit from under the top, and her sloping shoulders seemed to be a permanent fixture of her slouch while the sweeping curve of her neck to her chin echoed in her faint jawline. Her nose was long and straight and Alice thought it was very fine with her dark black eyes looking a thousand miles away and her arrow straight glossy black hair hanging behind the chair. Alice wondered what it would be like to hold her hand. Would she squeeze hard or gently? Interlaced or fingers to thumb.

She about the woman's hands and lips and eyes enought, it took her longer than it should have to realize the other woman was also shimmering with the golden glow of the burn.

[heretyc]

Horror [Trager, Eddie Gluskin, Val]

Horror: A collection of small fics, consisting of Outlast's most iconic antagonists [in my opinion].

The poll I started isn't over, but "canonically" is winning and I love it. Dark shit here we come lol. I will be writing for my beloved Terror-iffic Trio [aka my favourite antagonists from each game]. A party with these 3 would be lit.

Drabble ideas here.

Content Warnings: Uhhh...Outlast Antagonists lol. That is your warning.

Trager: Gore, awful jokes, his bare ass.

Eddie: Gore, murder, injury, mentions of his...lovely little display, sexual assault [minor, just a slight touch, no penetration]. [Please lord don't let him teach an art class.]

Val: Sexual assault [slight penetration w/ fingers], gore, murder, mud, Val's bare ass, mud breasts and mudgina.

I mean it, this is pretty heavy shit. It isn't too graphic, but if SA triggers you...either look away or read with caution. Trager's section is safe. Unless you're afraid of his ass...cause me too, man.

MINORS GTFO. Miners can stay as long as they're not minor miners.

Read with caution, I condone none of this. Fics underneath the cut.

You/MC take the place of the protagonist. So...you are Miles/Waylon/Blake. Yayyyyy....? Or nay? Depends on how you feel. MC is gender neutral, but is referred to with fem pronouns in Eddie's section for obvious reasons. You do not talk in Trager or Eddie's sections as Miles and Waylon were "mute". You speak in Val's section, though. You are described as having breasts in Val's section as both sexes/all genders have breasts. Tiddies for everybody!!

Enjoy.

Drabble idea: "See, this place isn't haunted!"

Sometimes, a saving grace can be your one way ticket to hell. And this had been an excellent example of that. The angelic voice over the dumbwaiter was a dream come true; after running and hiding for so long, it was like you were granted a break.

Only for your face to fall as the scarred face of a man greeted you. The air around him reeked of danger.

This was not the haven you were lead to believe was waiting for you.

"You made the right choice here, buddy," he declared before punching you in the jaw, a pained yell leaving your throat, and he was quick to take advantage of your shocked state to haul you into a wheelchair.

He must have done this a dozen times, as he was quick to lock your wrists into the cuffs attached to the chair. They were tight, and he merely chuckled at seeing your attempts of getting out of them.

He looked fucked up.

He stood in front of you, hands behind his back, and his eyes were scanning you like a wolf scans its prey before it mauls it to bits, "You're not a variant...huh. Well, buddy...you can call me...Trager. Everyone else does, anyway."

As Trager made noises looking you up and down, you looked at his face. Coated by some half-assed attempt at a mask and some strange glasses upon his face, you come to the conclusion that he was some doctor here.

He clicks his tongue and smacks you on the back, "You've got a lot of things to learn here, buddy. I am honoured to be your teacher."

Teach you about what, exactly? You didn't want to know. But he started to push you forward, and you only questioned where your hell would be.

This place was already hell, but...at the hands of some crazed madman, it was different.

Trager hummed to himself, making jokes here and there, and he once grumbled when you didn't laugh at a stupid impression, before he finally made it to an elevator. It was...somewhat cleaner up here, for some reason.

However...

You could feel a breeze upon your skin, and upon hearing the howl of wind and torrential rain, you saw an exit. Pitch black and windy, yet so much more welcoming than in here. You questioned if there would be a tornado warning or something by how violent the wind seemed to be.

The rain out there was intense, torrential, heavy and oh so divine, and Trager only chuckled.

"You want to take a quick walk, bud?" He leaned down next to you, eyes looking into yours like he was an old friend, despite also looking feral. "Run free, like Forrest Gump? Unfortunately, we're running out of time." He clicked his tongue once more, pulling you into the elevator.

This was a cruel joke. Even the Elvis impression - awful impression, mind you - wasn't as bad as this.

Standing beside you, Trager pressed a simple button on the control pad before clasping his hands together behind his back. After a moment of movement, he looked back toward you, his voice a tone that suggested jest, "Did you know they call elevators a "shaft" in other places of the world?" He chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

Looking at him, you realized his skin looked...awful. Like he was a draugr from that video game you used to play.

His scalp was scarred, and after spending an hour in this place, you realize you're lucky your scalp was untouched.

Wires upon wires were wrapped along his arm, and upon closer inspection, you were horrified to notice that they weren't wires, they were tubes.

Of his own blood.

How did he not feel that?

A man like him probably enjoys that, to be honest.

His nails were quite long as well, albeit you couldn't blame him...hygiene in a place like this was laughable. He probably had to exert his inner wildcat to defend himself in this shit hole.

You nearly sobbed when the elevator came to its destination, and he took hold of the handles once more.

It smelled of death and lost hope up here.

Choruses of screams reached your ears and you flinched. He seemed to notice, as he violently shushed the poor bastards trying to break free of their confines, "Sh. Shshshsh...you weren't putting your tongue to good use anyway!"

Tongue...??

The man shrieking had a bloodied mouth, and he soon quieted after choking on, what you assume to be, his own blood. Trager only sighed, muttering to himself, "Really, I just needed something to lick my stamps."

This...was a cruel joke. Taking someone's tongue for stamps?? You were deep in thought, only for Trager to notice and grin evilly, "You should see what I do with the balls."

...Dear god.

"Yeah, this weird...cannibalistic guy downstairs begs for them...the guy knows what he wants, I gotta give him that. He reminds me of somebody...eh, buddy?"

He poked you in the shoulder as he pushed, and it appears he was referring to you.

"I saw your camcorder. You're some sort of journalist, here to...what, expose one of the biggest experiments in history?" He laughed at the notion, shaking his head. "I admire the bravery, really. Braving through disturbed masses...I have to admit, I'm impressed."

You only gulped.

"People love to say this place is...haunted." Trager noted, pushing you into a bathroom of some sort. Bloodied, smelled of decay and looked like a paradise for bugs and bacteria.

What had scared you the most was the array of torture devices he had laid out on a tray. This man was deranged, one way or another.

He continued his one-sided conversation, focusing on the aforementioned tray as he walked over to it, "I mean, who wouldn't? People love to paint asylums as haunted. They hear a ghastly noise or a terrified scream and immediately tell the papers that a house of human suffering is haunted."

Trager's hand hovered over each instrument of torture, trying to pick which one, but he hadn't stopped talking.

"And I am more than sure that's your entire...reason for coming here. Trying to prove it was haunted. But guess what, buddy?"

He finally picked up a blade, long and serrated, and he pressed it against a finger of yours, the edges sharp against your thin flesh. He leaned in close, his dry lips forming into a smile, "This place isn't haunted."

He moved away, the blade removed from your finger, and you breathed a sigh of relief as he placed it back down onto the tray.

"No, no. It's worse."

He finally picks up a gigantic pair of scissors, much like something you'd see picking away at a shrub, and he was more than eager to shut them and open them, metallic hisses invading your senses, much like the feeling of doom.

You will die here.

"This place is an example of human cruelty, my friend," he announced, voice loud and cheerful as if he wasn't about to maim you, and he placed the blades around some of your fingers. He cared not for your horrified shrieks and begs, he only leaned in once more and whispered,

"And you will be nothing but an example of what happened here."

Slice.

...

"Oh, come on, buddy...it's not like you needed your middle finger anyway. Now open up...I have some stamps to lick."

Drabble idea: "Oh my god, are you okay?!"

"Darling, please! You act as if I've done something rancid! What have I done to you to make you so afraid of me?!"

The bloodied behemoth on your tail was quick and hurried as he chased after you, his feet slamming against the rotting floorboards. You almost couldn't hear the music that played alongside the horrific display he handmade. The smell was awful, but the sight of it was enough to make you vomit.

You would not be the victim to the Groom. Not now. Not ever.

You would not have your pelvis slit, or your chest stuffed like you were a sex doll [ironically, that's all you would be to him], and you would not let him confess his undying love for you. It was fake and corrupt like this entire asylum.

Despite the smell of mildew and death, adrenaline filled your blood and you could tolerate the disgusting scents as you breathed in, your legs not yet faltering.

You've heard what he's done. The man who so giddily chased you rambled about it as you snuck around, and you were not pleased.

This was the only way out. Sometimes you have to take risks...right?

This wasn't worth it, though.

And sometimes, luck runs out. Like right now, as you are stuck in a dead end.

There was only an elevator. And it was not on your current floor.

Shit.

You could jump and risk a broken leg...or...

The emergency ladder. Broken and rusted, but it's tetanus over death.

You could explain all of this to the news with lockjaw.

"Wait, what are you doing?! Don't, don't-!"

You had leaped, gripping onto the ladder as your bottom half slammed against it. With a hiss you tried to pull yourself up, only for the ladder to break underneath you.

The top had snapped, and you tried to grab onto what remained on the wall, only to fall, your heart stopping.

Of all things to die from, it was a rusted ladder.

Oh well.

As your body slammed onto the top of the elevator, a sharp pang began to blossom from your ankle, and you look to see shards of glass sticking out of your flesh. Now coated in blood, you cried out and ripped the shards out, piece by piece. Blood pooled around your foot as you cradled it.

"Oh my god, are you okay?!"

The behemoth above looked down at you with a horrified expression, his hands out and wanting to hold you.

"I hate to see you suffering without me! Why would you do something like that to yourself?!"

His voice was full of panic and concern, and for a moment it seemed wholesome, until the panicked silence became one of anger. There was...tension.

"You would...rather die...than be with me...?"

His tone had shifted so quickly. He was unpredictable, and that's what had made him so...scary. In general, he had looked like he crawled from a 1940s horror series. Sweeney Todd had come to mind, actually...

"You're just another whore, aren't you?" He growled out, only to sigh, like this was a normal occurrence. "It's quite alright, darling. A good man can turn a whore into a house wife...and I have faith in us. Let me just..."

The elevator roared to life, and you panicked even more, now. Your poor heart would likely kill you before he had the chance to. But as you rose, he merely hummed to himself, waiting for the elevator to rise to his floor.

You had no chance at moving or escaping, as when you reached the proper floor, he was quick to grab you before you became sandwiched between the top of the elevator and the ceiling.

He dwarfed you. Instantly. He carried you bridal style, an eerie smile on his face, "Come, now. I must make sure you look perfect for our wedding."

You had no chance, now.

He clicked his tongue, footsteps hard against the rotting boards, and his voice was quieter as he spoke, "And I need to wrap up your foot...you are a silly one, darling."

It didn't feel silly. It felt like your ankle and foot were on fire, stinging like mad.

You had accepted your death already, but if there was also one thing you could accept, it's that he wasn't actually half bad.

Minus the...anger fits and the "whore" bit, he would have been wonderful. Looking up at him, you see a man soiled by corruption.

His eyes would have been a beautiful, shiny blue if not for the pools of hemorrhage. They had looked...empty. Dead. But whenever he looked at you, they shone like his soul had been revived.

Is this what he had wanted? Love?

Everyone in this hell hole had been deprived of it.

It was sad. Really fucking sad.

But you had read about what Eddie had done, and seen it too. And he was past the point of no return. He had done too much to be redeemed.

Dread made itself a home in your stomach as you were laid upon something cold and wet, and you were strapped in. Arms and legs spread, and your clothes were ripped off.

You were now nude, and being touched by the Groom himself.

His hands were gentle as he caressed a calf, "You have such soft skin...you will look absolutely beautiful," he cooed, hand gliding itself upwards toward your knee, then your thigh, and then...

You only flinched when you felt his hand begin to caress your genitals, as gentle as could be, as if he wasn't violating you. T'was the touch of a lover.

But he was no lover, no.

His fingertips merely grazed along your private flesh, rubbing it as if he had wanted to stimulate you, and you wanted to scream.

Eddie sighed dreamily, like he was a married man and his life would be filled with nothing but happiness, and he, luckily, let his hand glide up to your navel. "You look divine already, but when I'm finished with you? Oh, darling..."

He removed his hand, thankfully, but he was quick to turn on the saw, and all you could feel was cold air from its rapid movements and doom.

He gripped the sides of the table you were on, and he was smiling like this wasn't totally fucked up, "I know this will be hard..."

You felt the table move, slowly but surely, and you began to wriggle, but he continued, "You will have to deal with this...and then the conception, which I promise, will be wonderful," he winked as the saw came closer, "Then the pregnancy...and oh, I can just imagine the birthing. You will look so beautiful, darling...like a goddess. Mothers are goddesses in their own right."

And all you could feel was the sting of the saw, and your soul fading from your body.

...

"You're just like the rest. Filthy whore."

You're lucky you weren't alive to see your mangled body, tossed with the rest.

Ready to rot.

Drabble idea: "I want to go home..."

Val, in a sense, had been an angel to you.

They did not have a halo, made of purity and gold, or have pristine, white wings to wrap you and hold you close, no. They did not bear robes of white or play a golden harp or sing a divine chorus.

But they had wanted you all to themselves. And they would not let Knoth's guard dog, or his sickly bastards he called "friends", ruin you before they had a chance to.

Because unlike Knoth, or Marta, or Laird or Nick or whoever the fuck, Val would put you back together.

They are a loving mother, dedicated to spreading love.

It had been painted in blood on your way to the mines, 'LOVE SET US FREE'. Bottles encasing candles, bodies strewn up like Christmas decorations...

What were they trying to do, exactly? Make their cause look homey? Elegant? Acceptable?

You had felt oddly welcomed. Every single enemy in your way was slain, journals and notes left in your path to urge you to come to them.

"Come to me," the red ink beckoned you on the dirtied paper, "and I will show you my love."

They had been so kind as to leave batteries and bandages. Before you had taken the small, makeshift raft, a final note had been placed in one of the small shacks, the bed made and smelling of firewood,

"I am waiting for you."

You did not want this. But you needed to find a way out.

The mines were not welcoming. You were not alone. And you had been chased into the underground, where you are now; held down by Heretics as they muttered, "mother, burn..."

Like the fallen angel ready to relieve the sinners of their pain, their martyrdom, Val had approached, coated in mud and looking like the demon of the mountains.

In their hand was a torch, raging with fire, and it made their white eyes so much more intense.

They had hummed eagerly, the hum evolving into a laugh as the torch was placed down and the Heretics were shooed away. You were too afraid to move or notice their cold, dirtied hands leaving your flesh.

Their eyes were wide, pupils tiny, and they smiled as they strutted to you, "We are creatures of appetite..."

They moaned, feeling up their body and their fake breasts, like they were a porn star and giving you a show.

"I want to feel your hunger," their voice became quiet, something only you could hear, and they leaned close, your eyes staring frantically into theirs, searching for any fragment of humanity.

There was none. And you felt saddened, knowing that the Val in those journals was not this Val.

This was something different.

"I want to know your desires...and show you what true pleasure feels like," they rasped, pushing you down and straddling your hips, grinding against your clothed stomach. Your fear had aroused them.

"I want to go home..." you whispered, tears rushing from your eyes, and they only laughed, leaning close to your face and whispering, "This is your home, my love," a muddy hand came up to caress your cheek and wipe the tears away, "and I...will be doting."

You had no chance to respond or even acknowledge the powder blown into your senses, or the tongue forcing your mouth open, and immediately, they sought dominance over your own muscle, wrestling with it. It had ventured to each nook and cranny of your mouth, like they wanted to taste everything about you, and they eventually pulled away with a moan, saliva connecting you two.

They licked their lips, humming in delight as their hands rushed to push up your shirt and reveal your chest. "Your body...is delightful," they breathed out, squeezing your breasts and rubbing your nipples with precision.

That powder did something to you. You had hated the feeling of their hands, but now you were overheating; desperate and quiet moans leaving your throat and making the cultist above you grin.

"I don't..." You couldn't even finish your sentence, as they pinched a nipple and made you shriek. It made them chuckle, and their hands moved south, ripping your zipper and breaking it. They got off for a second to completely rip your pants and undergarments off, and their naked thighs wrapped around your bare hips.

"Did you enjoy my gifts?" They questioned, hands now massaging your thighs, "You needed those batteries so badly...to document the lies of Sullivan, didn't you?" They purred, their hands tight and knowing just where to touch to get you to cry out in pleasure.

"That's why you came here. Fell from the sky, wrapped in flame..." they bit their lip, feeling aroused at the notion, "To record his bullshit."

You had even forgot about your camera, and you questioned where it was, until Val snorted, "It's gone, my love," their hands moved upwards to your genitals, "taken away...by my children. You won't need it anymore."

There was no pain when you felt their finger enter you. It was more pleasurable than anything you had ever felt, and it made you moan the loudest, and Val had revelled in this.

With precision their fingers located your pleasure spot, and sped up.

Your pleasure was their pleasure.

"God doesn't love you...not like I do."

And in time...you would know it to be true.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Something feels wrong

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Alejandro x Pregnant! Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Emotional, pregnancy, couple, complications with the pregnancy, mention of blood, thinking the worse, language

Request: Maybe some ANGST where there are complications with the birthday of the third baby

𖤐Summary: Y/n is 5 months pregnant; this was hers and Alejandro’s first baby together and something felt off with her. She ends up going to the hospital where some of the doctors and nurses were being rude and unprofessional to Mrs.Vargas

——————

———————

Y/n Vargas was 6 months pregnant, she understood she was supposed to rest for the birth, but she had to be up walking around, sitting still was an issue for her.

She was washing the dishes; Alejandro came around the corner into the kitchen, he looked at her and then placed his hands on her waist.

"Mi amor, go lay down, you need to rest, you can't be up doing things," Alejandro said.

"But I want to help..." she said, leaning into his touch.

"I know, but it's okay, I can do it for you, I want you to rest so you don't stress yourself and the baby out," he said as his hands went under her stomach and held it up. She let out a satisfied sigh and leaned back into his chest loving the height being lifted off her front.

"I can't wait for her to come already," Y/n said as she smiles up at her husband.

"Mami, Santiago took my red pencil," Maria, their 3-year-old daughter came up to her parents with tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"Maria, we have other red pencils, you don't need that specific one," Y/n said as Alejandro gently brought her stomach back down and she groaned feeling the weight back.

"But it's my favorite one," Maria said as tears now stained her cheeks.

"Maria," Alejandro said, picking up his daughter and kissing her temple. "Let's go find Santiago and get your pencil back," he said as they walked back upstairs to the playroom.

Y/n smiled at them two and went back to washing dishes, but something felt a little off. She leaned over the counter holding her stomach, she squeezed her eyes shut when her stomach was hurting.

She started panting trying to catch her breath like she just ran a marathon.

"Okay, that problem has been sol-mi amor? What's wrong?" Alejandro asked, running to her and holding her hand.

"S-Something feels w-wrong..." she pants.

"Like what?"

"L-Like...the baby...something f-feels wrong," she said, looking up at him. Alejandro looked around Y/n to see if something was wrong and saw a trickle of blood running down her leg.

He went back upstairs and grabbed a bag that had supplies for the hospital, he also quickly grabbed the kids. He hurried the kids out the door and helped Y/n out the door as well.

"It's okay, mi amor," he tried his best to reassure her, he got her in the passenger side and took the kids next door to their neighbor, Mrs.Torres.

"What's wrong with mami?" Maria asked, tears back in her eyes looking at her mami in the passenger side looking like she was in pain.

"I don't know, amor, we are going to the hospital to find out, you two will be staying with Mrs.Torres for a few hours till we figure everything out, okay?"

"Okay, papi," the kids hugged their father.

----------

Alejandro ran to the lady at the front desk who quickly got off the phone and looked at Alejandro.

"Sir?"

"My wife, she's pregnant and she says something feels wrong with the baby."

The nurse called for a doctor and grabbed a wheelchair for Y/n, Alejandro opened the passenger side door for her, and the nurses and doctor helped Y/n sit on the wheelchair and pushed her inside and got her into a room.

"How far along is she?"

"She's 6 months..."

"Has she been resting?"

Alejandro didn't want to sugar code it. "She rests but will quickly get up and do something."

"So not resting enough," the doctor said, and Alejandro nodded as he looked at his wife in pain and pale as a ghost.

"Is she okay?"

"She will be okay; we'll check on the baby and your wife to see what is going on..."

The doctor moved the curtain to hide Y/n from Alejandro, but he pushed them open to sit next to his wife and hold her hand. The doctor didn't mind as long as they get to do their tests on Y/n and the unborn baby.

----------

2:00PM

Y/n was asleep on the hospital bed in that uncomfortable paper hospital gown. Alejandro held her hand, his big hands covering up her small right hand, his forehead on his knuckles, he looked like he was praying for his wife and baby to be okay.

Alejandro never thought something like this would happen to his family, he was already thinking the worse before the doctors came back to say anything.

"Please, please, please, be okay....I don't want anything bad to ever happen to my family," Alejandro whispered, he felt tears in his eyes wanting to fall and soon let them.

Salty tears fell on his cheeks and fell on his knuckles. Y/n moved around in her sleep and her eyes fluttered open, she looked at her husband whose eyes were red. She brought her hand to his cheek.

"Alejandro? Did the doctor come back?"

"Not yet I'm just...scared for the both of you..." Y/n just gave a lazy smile glad that he is worried for her.

"Alejandro-"

Knock knock

"Alright, Mr. and Mrs.Vargas, I have good news and bad news," the doctor said, flipping his chart and looking at the worried married couple.

"What is it doc?" Alejandro asked.

"Good news...nothing is wrong with the baby, and she will be just fine once born but bad news...the baby will more likely come out too small or will have some sort of disorder, not sure what, downs, handicap, not sure what."

"We don't care as long as the baby is fine and will be healthy, if she is handicap, we will do anything and everything to love her like our other children," Alejandro said as Y/n smiled at him.

"Alright...well, we'll have you guys soon discharged is a little bit and you two could go home."

"Thanks doc," Alejandro said.

He leaned forward and kissed Y/n's forehead and his hand on her stomach. Y/n felt tears in her eyes, and they soon fell, she was relieved that everything was okay, and nothing would be wrong.

-----------

3:20PM

Alejandro helped Y/n back inside the house and took her upstairs to their shared bedroom to let her rest and sleep and soon went next door to Mrs.Torres' house to get their children.

Maria opened the door to her parents' bedroom seeing her mami on the bed. A blanket over Y/n's body and she was trying to sleep, Maria walked up to her side of the bed.

"Mami?"

"Hmmm~ Maria..." Y/n groans as she put her hand on the back of her head kissing her forehead.

"Mami, are you okay?"

"I am...Maria..." Y/n used her hand under her cheek to sit up. "The baby may come out handicap, you know what that is?" Maria nodded; she had a few handicap kids in her daycare.

"Yes, mami."

"That also means we may have to give the baby some extra attention."

"I understand, mami..."

"I do too," Santiago said, coming into the bedroom.

Y/n's glad that her kids understand that her and her husband will have to give more attention to the baby.

----------

Alejandro was helping the kids with homework and even making dinner for everyone, Y/n was asleep trying to rest.

Alejandro fixed burritos for the kids but made soup for Y/n. He poured the soup into a bowl and went up to the bedroom, he pushed the door open and placed the soap on her nightstand with a glass of water next to it.

He sat down in a chair next to her side of the bed and gently woke her up. Y/n groaned from being woken up again, she rolled over and saw it was her husband and could smell the soup.

"Alejandro..."

"I made you some soup and brought you some water," he said, kissing her knuckles.

"Thank you."

"Of course, anything for you, mi amor...I'll come and get your dishes later and I'll come back to check up on you," he smiles.

"Okay," she said as he left the bedroom and left the door open just in case.

-----------

9:00PM

Santiago and Maria had passed out on the couch with 'Bluey' playing in the background. Alejandro turned the TV off and picked his kids up taking them both to bed.

As he tucked in his daughter and son, he walked back into his bedroom, seeing Y/n against the headboard of the bed with the TV playing 'Good Girls'.

"Why are you up?" He asked as he started to remove his clothes and getting sweatpants on.

"I just woke up...and Hailee keeps texting me about what episode she's on for Good Girls and I needed to catch up," she smiles at him.

"Right...come here," he lays down on his side and pulled Y/n close to his body and kissed her forehead and then lips.

"Te amo, mi amor (I love you, my love)," Alejandro said with a goofy smile on his face.

"I love you too," she said kissing his lips.

[tales-of-wocdes]

I’ll be honest, while it make make sense for the MC’s recovery, as an adult reader I’d be pretty uncomfortable reading about a child being put in diapers and/or soiling themself in detail. It’d be a huge turnoff for me and I don’t think I would continue to read. Just in general my personal preference as a reader is to lean away from anything that infantilizes the MC more. On one hand, I recognize that their circumstances would mean they’re not on a typical developmental pathway compared to other 7-8 year olds. On the other hand, I think your writing already does an excellent job of capturing that while still doing justice to the MC’s age. They feel like a traumatized 7-8 year old who’s immature and confused because of what happened to them, not a 3 year old, is what I’m saying. I guess just personally I think a diaper or pacifier would sort of ruin that characterization for me, I’d much rather prefer the MC to gain some agency by learning how to navigate the bathroom on their own via wheelchair or rely on more age-appropriate toys for comfort. That said, these are just all my own thoughts as a single reader. Obviously other readers disagree with these preferences, and ultimately I respect that it’s your choice as the author to have final say about what does/doesn’t go. My point isn’t to try to threaten you with a loss of readership— I just want to express my own perspective and ultimately it’s your choice to make! I am really invested in this story and quite enjoy your writing, so I also trust that you know what’s best for your work.

Thank you for these thoughts. I appreciate it. This is valuable feedback and info about reader preferences, even if it is just one person :D I have a feeling you are hardly alone here.

The long post queue allows me time to think, but I don't really go back and edit my answers which are the immediate thoughts most of the time :D That would take a lot of extra time. This however, I think I will let jump the queue because I did say I would get back to you all on this and I think it is better addressed earlier on. And for me it has been several days.

I am willing to consider all suggestions, and appreciate receiving them (at least so far :D) but ultimately it is up to me to decide what I believe to be appropriate or what fits. I retain the right to always change my mind and thoughts mature over time. And here, I agree with you. A pacifier or diapers is not something I see happening in the story, even as an optional extra. Why? Because as you said, MC is immature and very confused but 7-8 years old.

Something to fiddle with? Yes, that could happen. Some kind of chewing necklace? Perhaps. I have been googling and indeed such things are available for older children and even adults. Sensory necklaces/toys I think they are called. For example in the shape of just a tube, or something that look vaguely like a fang. Age appropriate toys? Absolutely. Cool magical toys? Even better. I would be happy to hear ideas about those.

A "gift" from a totally out of touch "grandpa" that thinks giving a child something like a magical suit of armor is a good thing? That gets confiscated by Havard due to property damage? Absolutely... I wonder if there is a way to write random events... I'll look into it. This is btw, something I came up with just now. It is not something I have planned.

A "bathroom arc"? No. After a brief bit of thinking, I don't really want to write it at all so I won't. And I have a feeling that many people would not like reading it if I did force myself to do that. A comment in passing about odd bathrooms are for MC? Sure, that sounds fine to me, but leaving the gritty grimy reality-checks for something else is probably better.

This is all basically flavor text, which is one of the better aspects of interactive fiction but does not need to have a significant effect on the plot :D I want to accommodate reader preferences and offer up a pretty good level of choice, but there is still an overall direction I want to go.

[autism-autobot]

LMK Angst Fic Part 5

Author's note: I think there need to be more platonic and friendship cuddling in media and in the world, so here we are. (Definitely not touch starved nope not me!)

Part 4:

It was around three in the morning in the celestial realm. Nezha had become accustomed to sleeping beside Sun Wukong every night and had even begun to enjoy it despite the reason why they started doing it. He had always thought of Wukong as a good friend and companion, which he didn't have very many of thanks to his workaholic attitude. Him and Wukong had even become quite comfortable with each other.

Nezha was aroace and Wukong still considered himself spoken for since his previous marriage had ended in death and not divorce. So it was as platonic as could be. However, they were both touch-starved and emotionally neglected as children, so there's that.

Wukong and Nezha had grown used to falling asleep snuggled up next to each other, with limbs tangled in weird form around each other. But neither of them were exactly still while they slept, so Nezha wasn't immediately concerned when he couldn't feel Wukong next to him when he flopped his arm around beside him to try and find the monkey he'd grown so close to.

Until he heard the whimpering.

That can't be good.

Nezha bolted upright in the bed. He searched the dark room for his friend's ginger-colored fur. He found it at the edge of the bed.

After clambering over to Wukong's side he gently and quietly asked:

Nezha: Wukong, are you awake? What's the matter?

SWK: *sobbing* I-it's my head! It's hurting! It hurts so bad! Please-

Nezha: Shhhhh, Wukong. It's alright. I'm here, it's okay. You'll be okay.

Nezha had become accustomed to Wukong's post-circlet migraines and various other symptoms of Wukong's traumas. It seemed as though even after Wukong had learned to cope with the physical damage done to him, his body had not, and was therefore having it's own posttraumatic episodes.

Nezha had found ways to sooth him luckily.

Nezha laid Wukong in his original position on his side of their shared bed and put an ice pack on his forehead. He then lit some incense and lightly wafted the fumes in Wukong's direction so he could smell it. That was more to soothe the monkey's panic than anything.

After laying back down beside Wukong, Nezha wrapped an arm around his chest.

Nezha: Are you comfortable enough?

SWK: I think so.....*gasps*

Nezha: Wukong what-

SWK: Hot flash. Don't worry, it's already over. Gosh, that felt bad.

Nezha: It will be alright my friend. I am here.

SWK: Thank you. For everything.

Nezha: No problem, I quite enjoy your company. I just wish you weren't in pain as often as you are.

SWK: You and me both.

~~~

They slept for a few more hours before getting up. Sun Wukong tended to be very weak during and after a migraine, as was the design of the circlet he once wore. Nezha helped him to the downstairs living room and set him up on the couch.

SWK: Ow.

Nezha: Sorry.

SWK: Nah, it's fine. I should be the one saying sorry to you.

Nezha: Whatever do you mean by that?

SWK: You're always having to help me out with stuff and getting me out of trouble.

Nezha: That is only half true. Besides, I do not mind taking care of you.

SWK: But don't you think of me as weak for needing help like this?

Nezha: No, not really. If I did, however, I'd be the world's biggest hypocrite.

SWK: What? How so?

Nezha went into the adjacent closet and pulled out a wheelchair, it was the active kind too, unlike the bulky ones you'd find in the hospital.

Nezha: I haven't told you this before, I probably should've by now but, I guess I share similar insecurities.

Nezha: I am disabled. I'm an ambulatory wheelchair user, meaning I can walk about easily at times, while others I cannot.

Nezha: That is also why I have my fire wheels, sash, and staff. They are mobility devices. Albeit they are a bit atypical.

SWK: Cool!

Nezha: Really? You think they're cool?

SWK: Well, yeah! I think that type of stuff is pretty interesting. I get why you wouldn't exactly want to show it off though.

Nezha: Thank you. Perhaps if you are ever needing some help after a migraine or other health complication, you can use one of my many wheelchairs! I hardly use most of them anymore, it's nice to have backups. Just in case.

SWK: Thanks for the offer. Maybe I'll give one a spin after I feel a little bit better. I still feel like my head will explode if I sit up.

Nezha: Alright then. I'll park this one next to you so you can have an easy transition when you are ready.

SWK: Thanks again.

Nezha: You are quite welcome.

Part 6:

Masterpost

[drymushroomfics]

A Gift {2/3}

Chapter 2: Birthday

Rory McCann x Female Reader Ch. 1 Ch. 3

Waking up, you take a look around the room. In nothing but your bra, you notice your dress and ripped underwear on the floor. Memories start to flood back from last night. You run your hands through your dishovled hair and let out a breath. You don't even know what to think of it. You were so worn out that it didn't take you long to fall asleep after he left you. You don't even know what last night will do to your friendship with Rory. You've always had a crush on him but it turned into something more last year when you went sailing with him for a couple days. Waking up and spending all day with him and no one else made you realize just how much you enjoyed him just as he was.

You knew you loved him. Now everything might be ruined. You get out of bed to find your phone, hoping to find a text or call from him. Nothing from him. Only texts from your other friends, wishing you a happy birthday. You loved hearing from your friends but the ache and worry only dulled the gratitude.

•○•◇•○•♡•○•◇•○• Rory sips at his morning coffee, his mind whirrling with negativity. Last night was too much for him. He was so rough and vulgar with you and you loved it. He'd never heard a woman make the noises you did last night and even thinking about it now, it made him hard. He feels ashamed of how much he enjoyed treating you that way. His insecurities start to seep in further realizing that you were moaning for Sandor; not him. He worries that you only want the fantasy of the Hound and not who he really is. He's just Rory, your close friend. He's worried that's all he'll ever be to you. He's worried that what he did last night really fucked up your friendship. •○•◇•○•♡•○•◇•○• A little into the afternoon, you finally decide to out right face your woes and call him.

The line rings and you fiddle with the edge of your shirt.

You can't help but to smile despite your worries when you hear his voice.

"Hey… Are you alright?… I'm just calling to check on you. I haven't heard from you… Since yesterday", you say.

"I should've already called to check on you… I should've already wished you a Happy Birthday…I'm sorry… I really am… I should've talked to you before and-"

"You don't have to apologize, Rory…. It was… I can't imagine a better gift… for any holiday, really…"

You hear him let out a sigh of relief.

"So… you enjoyed it?… Even how I treated you…", he asks.

"I think uh… it was pretty obvious."

He laughs, "I guess it was… I uh… I enjoyed myself…but you already know that too."

"Wanna come over and get drunk with me, then?"

Rory remembers the surprise party. Everyone's ambushing your house at nine so if he came by earlier, it'd give you time to talk.

"Eight tonight, alright with you?", he asks you.

"Perfect…. You're not gonna roll in here in a wheelchair next, are you?", you ask, joking with him.

"You're unbelieveable!"

You laugh.

"No… I don't think I could do to you what I did last night in a wheelchair."

Heat spreads through you at his statement.

"Maybe my next birthday? I'll get the Kenny special?"

"Funny… See you at eight, y/n."

•○•◇•○•♡•○•◇•○• Hearing Rory's knock at the door, you try to mentally prepare yourself for seeing him again.

When you do open the door, your eyes meet and you both stand there unsure of yourselves and each other.

"Happy Birthday.", he smiles, hoping to break the tention.

Your heart always melt when he smiles at you.

"Thanks, Rory.", you reply, letting him in and taking the wine he'd brought.

He follows you inside and memories can't help but come back of you and him last night. The way he touched you; the way he fucked you. Your face heats up and you do your best to dismiss it. Pouring the wine for each of you, you can't help but wonder what's going through his head as he stands in your kitchen.

"Wanna sit outside?… It's nice out. Not as cool as I thought it'd be tonight.", he offers, slipping out of his sweater.

You nod following him onto the back porch.

You and him take a seat on your outdoor swing, looking out at the darkened sky.

"I have to ask… What made you think of uh… bringing Sandor back out as my gift?, you ask him.

He scratches at the back of his neck, his nerves flashing through him.

"Well… I knew you liked him… I wanted to give you something no one else could… I think I managed that."

You let out a little chuckle, "That you did… But uh… You were there too, Rory… You… You came down my throat. I don't think that happens when you're just friends, mostly."

His face reddens at your words.

He moves his hand to take hold of yours. You turn to look at him as he takes in a breath, nervous to confess his true feelings. Looking into your soft eyes, he knows he has to be honest.

"I wanted it… I wanted you… I just… Maybe I should've told you before barging in and making thinks complicated… I thought if you didn't want me, then I could at least give you something you wanted while being selfish and experiencing my wants as well."

You move your free hand up to the side of his face, "Rory… You didn't have to dress up as anyone to give me a fantasy… When I told you that you were enough of a gift, I meant it… Don't get me wrong, last night was beyond wonderful but, under those clothes, was just you; Your mind… Your body… That's all you… and I want you."

His heart swells at your reply, all his fears and worries leaving him. He takes his hand and pulls yours from the side of his face to kiss your soft palm.

You find yourself leaning forward, reaching up to meet his lips. His hand goes to the back of your neck, cradling you there. Thats when both of of you realize that you never kissed each other. Not once last night did your lips touch, making right now so much sweeter.

"I think I'd like to request one more gift for my birthday…", you tell him when you pull away.

"..and quite frankly on any other day of the week… I want you, Rory. Not someone with your face. You just as you are. I want to see you and it'd be nice if you didn't bolt afterwards…", you explain.

"I really am sorry… I started to get second guess everything and had to leave before I broke character. I wanted it to be special for you."

"Of course it was. But, I think I can say that I'll always prefer the real you… Don't ever think less."

You smile at each other before his lips meet yours again.

Visions of you on your knees and his cock in your mouth flash through his mind and he feels his arousal growing. Just as your hand moves to his jeans, you both hear knocking.

"Who is that?", you ask, confused and breathless.

"Fuck.", he groans, straightening himself.

"Go answer the door.", he tells you.

Confusion on your face, you walk inside and toward your front door.

"SURPRISE!", your friends yell as you open the door.

You smile brightly, greeting and hugging them.

They all step in, making themselves at home; as usual.

"Did you really think we'd leave you all alone on your birthday?!", your friend, Anna asks, setting down a white box on your kitchen table.

"Of course not.", you reply, moving to the cabinet and grabbing glasses to make drinks for your friends.

Your heard turns when you hear the back door shut. Rory steps into view and they all look at him.

"What were you two up to before we got here?", your other friend, Daniel asks with a smirk on his face.

"Talking, why?", you question, eyebrow arching.

"No reason…. Rory's shirt's a little unbuttoned."

You and Rory look at each other before realizing you never touched his shirt.

Your friends all laugh.

"Fuckin' caught ya! We've been tryin' to get you two to fuck for years!

It's about fuckin' time!", he laughs, holding up his drink to cheers.

"Oh fuck off!", you joke, holding up your own glass.

"Here's to you, my dear, and finally getting laid by our other dear friend, Rory!", Daniel announces.

Everyone clinks drinks.

Anna moves to open the white box she had set down, revealing a birthday cake with your name on it.

"You really didn't have to!", you smile at them.

"Oh shut it!", your other friend, Allen, chimes in, sticking candles in the cake.

They make you take a seat and you blush as everyone sings you Happy Birthday as Anna lights the candles.

"You better make a good wish.", Daniel winks.

You close your eyes, your brain immediately picturing Rory with his arms around you. You realize that you have everything you need right in this room.

You open your eyes, blowing out the fire.

Everyone cheers and clinks their glasses again.

You spend the rest of the evening with not a care in the world. Just you and your friends having a nice time.

Well, almost not a care in the world. You may not have had any worries the whole evening, but being interrupted by your friends earlier left you in a wanting state. Your mind couldn't let go of Rory's touch. You wanted him now.

[muffy-heeler]

notes about the sign after my second watch in no particular order

SPOILERS AHEAD‼️

When it dropped at midnight where I was (I was obsessively checking Disney+) I immediately dropped my paper to watch it and ohhh my god.

When Pretzel mentions his guinea pig I am almost certain he says "moms" as in two mothers despite the captions apostrophe, because "my mom's said he would come back" makes no sense to me and it's not the kind of weirdly written kid-speak Joe usually writes. Delightful!! My boyfriends been saying for ages they gotta put gay dogs in bluey lol

WINTONS DAD AND THE TERRIERS MOM‼️ I think theyre so cute even if theyre a tiny speck by the house with a pool at the end. And, of course it has a pool. I'm so glad Winton's dad found love :3

Lazarus Drug was THE song choice ever. Oh my god. I cried so hard. And I think choosing such a mature (and I don't mean that bc it's a drug metaphor I mean it bc it's a metaphor at all) song really gives kids something to grow into. Sure those kids who love bluey will only sorta remember it, but when they get older and relisten it'll blow their minds. I also just like the song lol it's very White Rabbit meets Laura Stevenson. Anyways. I also noticed they're credited on a few other bluey tracks according to Google, including some of my favorites like It Was Yesterday, Wagon Ride, and Rain!

Didn't notice any pretty dust particles in the episode, which was interesting because they save those for the most touching episodes and moments. Lmk if you see them anywhere!! I have a theory there's some during the butterfly hiking sign scene so hmu if they are there

Wheelchair dog spotted on the birds eye shot of the lookout before the shaggy dogs use the binoculars! I just love how Joe seems to understand the difference between representation, where diverse people are coexisting and living their own lives, sometimes as the focus of the story sometimes just existing as people, and that performative representation where you only see a minority when their story is being used to uplift the protagonists. Another great example of this is obviously Turtleboy where Dougie and Bingo's stories coexist, and one is not inferior to the other but instead we end up rooting for both of them. Bit of a tangent but my point is Joe is always putting disabled and neurodivergent and MORE types of characters into his show and it's delightful

That's all I noticed in my first two watches but I'm sure there will be more 😭

Edit:

When Bingo gets stuck in the railing Bluey goes to help her because, I presume, it's happened so often that even she can deal with it now

None of u were gonna tell me Meg Washington was Calypso cmon man

[shinypeachkitten]

The beginning pt 21.~~Paul Landers

Enjoy my darlings:3

That morning you were allowed to leave the hospital. You took a shower while the nurse talked to Paul some practical things about the baby. Paul picked Lily up and changed her nappy and when he was done he kissed her forehead before holding her. You were mesmerized by the image of your man and your daughter. This was the most beautifull thing ever. Paul looked up to you and smiled. '' We made such a beautifull daughter, thank you so much sweetheart'' he said with tears in his eyes from happiness. ''Awh babe, no thank you'' you said while kissing his lips. You looked at Lily and smiled. She really was beautifull. ''Knock knock'' we heard a voice say and looked at the door. It was Richard. '' Come in'' Paul smiled and Richard walked in with the biggest smile. Behind him you saw Margaux walking in. ''Omg Margaux'' you said happy and stumbled to her to hug her. '' Hey sweety'' she hugged you and kissed your cheek. '' It's been a long time'' she said and you nodded. ''Happy to see you more often now'' you said and she smiled. ''Ohh, who is this beautifull little girl?''Richard said while Paul give Lilly to him'' Richard grabbed her gently and smiled to her. '' Lilly Landers'' you said smiling and Richard smiled. ''She is perfect. Hello Lilly, Uncle Richard here. I'm going to spoil you rotten'' he said and Paul rolled his eyes. '' Already?'' he laughed with Richard and Margaux congratulated Paul before looking at Lilly. '' She is perfect. Looks like her dad'' she laughed and Paul smiled Proudly. Richard gave her to Margaux and hugged you and kissed your forehead. '' Proud of you'' he said and you felt so touched by all the sweet words. ''Y/N, i don't know if you knew, but before i played in band, i was a maternity nurse. I can help you out of you like'' she said and you nodded right away. '' Please, i rather have someone i trust and know than someone unknown. Especially with Paul being famous. You can't trust no one anymore.'' Margaux nodded. ''Did you sign your release papers?'' You said and you gave them to her. '' Time to go home'' Paul said and you nodded. Richard got a wheelchair for you while Paul and Margaux put Lilly in her carseat. You sat in the wheelchair and Richard pushed you. But Richard won't be Richard if he didn't fool around. He started to run with you in de wheelchair and meandered through the corridors. '' Be carefull with my wife!'' Paul yelled and Richard stopped. '' Last time i checked, you haven't even asked her'' he jokely said and you grinn. '' Time will tell my friend'' he said smiling and helped you out the wheelchair in the car. You , Paul and Lilly were in the backseat while Richard drove and Margaux sat beside him. '' I can't tell you how much my genitals hurts'' you said and you heard Richard coughing. '' Oh, i will believe that'' Paul said with big eyes. ''I have deep respect for you. You did really well. She's so beautiful, I can't stop looking at her'' Paul said while putting his hand on your knee. You felt overwhelmed with love. ''Thank you Babe, i'm so happy right now''.

Once you got home , Paul helped you out the car and you smiled when you saw that they decorated the place. You had a stork on your balcony and an banner saying; Hooray, it's a girl!. When you opened the frontdoor, you heard chatting and looked at Paul. He shrugged. He had no idea what was going on. He walked in with Lilly first and you followed with Margaux and Richard behind you. When you walked in the livingroom you looked surprised. They were balloons and all kinds of really cute decoration. ''Awh guys'' you said and you and there you go again with the tears. '' Come here'' Till said and Hugged you tight. '' Congratz with your beautifull daughter'' he kissed you forehead and soon Christoph came to hug you. Then Olli and Flake. Then Lilly started crying and Paul made (with help of Margaux) her a bottle. Christoph helped you down on the couch. You smiled thankfull at him and he winked at you. ''Are you giving her the bottle?'' Margaux said to Paul and he looked at you. '' Yes, daddy will feed her'' you said with a wink and Paul smiled from ear to ear. He sat down next to you and gave Lilly her bottle. After he fed her, She moaned and pooped her pants followed by a smell. '' Oh god child, you smell like your dad'' Olli yelled and sat on the other side of the couch. You started laughing and Paul looked away with a disgusted face. ''Pfoee, little girl, you stink'' he said and laid her down gently between you to change her. When he pulled down her leggings you started to laugh. '' Well Dad, good luck with that'' you jokely said and Paul looked in horror. His sweet little girl had poop everywhere. '' Come, lets wash her up and change her'' Margaux laughed and she and Paul went to the bedroom. ''I'm so glad Margaux is here to help'' you smiled to Richard and he smiled to. '' She is amazing Y/N'' Richard said and you could see he meant it. You laid your hand on his shoulder. '' She is, you both deserve eachother'' . ''Thanks sweetheart'''he said and you smiled. ''Sweetheart, we are off. If you or Paul need something, call us'' Till said and you nodded. '' Thanks alot. The decoration and the gifts are amazing'' You said and thank the boys. Richard asked if it was okay if he stayed. ''Ofcourse'''you smiled and he stood up. ''I'll make sure you get food this week so you and Paul can focus on the baby'' ''Thank you, very much appreciated''

Richard started cooking and after a while Paul came back with Lilly. ''Soo, this little girl is clean and she fell asleep in my arms'' Paul said with a smile . ''You're a amazing dad Babe'' you said and Margaux smiled. Paul gave you Lilly and you looked at her while she was sleeping peacefully. When you wanted to cover her a little more with her blanket you saw her cute little outfit and you mouth fell open. A text was printed on her sweater : Mommy, will you marry my daddy? When you looked at Paul, he sat before you on one knee with a beautifull ring in his hands. ''Omg Paul, Yes!'' you cried out and Paul smiled and put the ring on your finger before hugging you and Lilly.

''You make me the happiest woman on earth'' you cried and Paul looked you the eyes. '' From the moment i met you i knew you were the one. I talked about it with Richard even. I never ever want to be without you and this amazing little girl'' You kissed him and put your hand on his cheek '' We never want to be without you either. We love you so much babe'' . This was it. This was what you wanted so bad. You, Paul and a little daughter <3

[tilbageidanmark]

MOVIES I WATCHED THIS WEEK #204:

THE EXECUTIONER (1963) is a classic Spanish dark comedy. Naïve funeral worker Nino Manfredi meets the daughter of a state executioner. Both are social outcasts because of their dreaded associations with death, so they are pushed toward each other, to marry and start a family. In order to win the right for a new government apartment, meek Manfredi is being lured to take over his father-in-law's job, and the time eventually comes when he has to perform a gruesome killing by garroting his first 'customer'. (Screenshot Above). This is my second film this month with delightful old actor José Isbert (after 'The wheelchair'!), whose character of Amadeo carries the plot. 7/10.

🍿

There were quiet a few opulent spectacles about the election of Popes recently (The two Popes, The young Pope, Amen, The Borgias, We have a Pope, and of course, Godfather 3). It's a genre that lends itself to magnificent production design and reverence to authority.

CONCLAVE adds a dramatic chapter to this sub-genre. It's a very well made thriller with an imposing cast of carpet-chewing male thespians, (Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow), with the addition of the beautiful Isabella Rossellini. It's a tense and riveting story, with a terrific score. It ends with a black-and-white power struggle between liberalism and conservatism, and an unexpected bombshell finale. 8/10.

(Don't watch the trailer). My second by Edward Berger (after 'Your Honor'. Now I want to see his 'All quiet on the western front').

🍿

5 MORE LATVIAN ANIMATED MOVIES, 3 BY GINTS ZILBALODIS:

🍿 FLOW is a stunning adventure story about a solitary black cat who learns to live with others. It feels like The Age of Water in 'Myst', done in a striking visual style, lifelike animal movements and with a wordless, genuine heart. It's Latvia's submission to this year's Oscar, and I hope they win. I also hope that there will never be 'Flow2', and that the director Gints Zilbalodis never goes to work for Pixar, even if they offer him $10M. 9/10.

🍿 The young director, Gints Zilbalodis, tells in an interview that up until 'Flow' he had made all his movies alone, without any co-workers. His previous feature, the 2019 AWAY, was an impressive world-building experiment like 'La Planète sauvage' for the 21st century. A boy undertakes a mysterious journey through (another) Myst-like island, followed by an 'Iron Giant'-like creature that may or may not be unfriendly. Wordless, beautiful, highly creative, but without the emotional depth that 'Flow' employs. 💯 score on Rotten Tomatoes.

🍿 His 2014 FOLLOWERS was more like a loud sketch. A boy who runs away from school, joins an escaped prisoner.

🍿 ELECTRICIAN’S DAY (2018), an original story about an ordinary day at a mental hospital, which started with a power outage. Disgusting visuals and sound effects. 8/10.

🍿 There must be an active animation scene over there. BIRTH (2009) is my second animation by Signe Baumane (after her genial, and better, 'Rocks in my pocket'). A clueless pregnant teen must learn about giving birth. Supported by (and done in similar style to) Bill Plimpton. [*Female Director*]

🍿

SYMBOL (2009) is a truly-weird surrealist fantasy by a popular Japanese comedian. It tells two separate stories that have no connection to each other at all. In the main one, the comedian, dressed in a colorful polka-dot pajamas, wakes up in a giant, empty white room, not sure how and why he got there. Hundreds of tiny angel dicks sprout out of walls, and every time he touches one, a certain object drops into the room (?) from a hidden door. [I remember the documentary about Nasubi ("Eggplant"), a contestant in a Japanese game show who was left (naked) in a similar room for a whole year, so this must be common theme on TV over there.]

The second unrelated story is about a Mexican Lucha libre wrestler named Escargot Man, it is told in Spanish, and done in a realistic style. The combination between the two is crazily 'different', but in the end the whole premise doesn't work at all.

🍿

2 FILMS ABOUT CANNIBAL FAMILIES:

🍿 "...We know what to do, but we do not do!..."

Talking about bizarro!

SLACK BAY (2016), my second film from French director Bruno Dumont (after Léa Seydoux 'France'). Placed at the gorgeous, half-empty Bretagne of 120 years ago. A vacationing family of inbred industrialists (including half-witted Juliette Binoche) meet a clan of ugly mussel-gatherers, who indulges in cannibalism [Basically, they're 'eating the rich']. Then the visiting hermaphrodite daughter falls in love with the coarse elder son of the fishermen, and all hell breaks loose. There are also a couple of policemen who look like Hergé's Thompson and Thompson investigating the disappearances of all the previous visitors, and everybody keeps tumbling down all the time in various ridiculous ways. And towards the end, people start elevating and float up in the sky. It's a really absurd class war fable.

(Unfortunately I could only watch it without subtitles, so I must have missed a lot, but that's okay.)

🍿 "What was this before it was leftovers?..."

For me, Bob Balaban will always be François Truffaut's translator in 'Close Encounter of the third kind'. But he came from a distinguished family and himself had an impressive career as a creator. PARENTS (1989) was his debut feature, and is more of a Lynchian atmospheric suburban nightmare than a black comedy horror flick. Maybe it's because of the score by Lynch collaborator, Angelo Badalamenti's. Maybe it's because the ambiguity which is told from a young boy's point of view. But it's strange and disturbing, and definitely not for vegetarians like me. Randy Quaid's creepiest performance.

🍿

DAAAAAALÍ! (2023), my first film by Quentin Dupieux is a fake surrealist meta-biography of the eccentric painter, played here by four different actors with exaggerated mannerism and an odd accent. A framing Buñuelian plot about a miscast journalist who tries repeatedly to score an interview with him, but she doesn't have any insights to interest him, or us. It has 💯 score on Rotten Tomatoes, but I found it woefully unsatisfactory: Dalí deserved so much better.

🍿

LEONARDO DA VINCI is the new, 4-hour PBS documentary by Ken Burns, his first non-American subject. Exploring the life and legacy of the most celebrated Renaissance Man who ever lived. Using an extensive overview of his many notebooks, scientific inventions, his search for knowledge and artistic journey, it's a visually fascinating trip, while being explained by a group talking heads (and blabbering heads alike). Still the topic is too captivating to spoil. Recommended. 7/10.

“…On a page dedicated to an 1,800-year-old Euclidean geometry problem, he trailed off: “It was time to eat. Et cetera”, he wrote, “because the soup is getting cold”. It was among his last notebook entries…”

🍿

"Yes, I can see now..."

I need some sweetness in my life, so I turned again to Chaplin's CITY LIGHTS. Extremely sentimental, defiantly romantic with a final scene that made Einstein cry and that James Agee called "the greatest single piece of acting ever committed to celluloid". 9/10. Re-watch ♻️.

🍿

2 PORTUGUESE SHORTS BY AKI KAURISMÄKI:

I've seen 13 of Aki Kaurismäki features. I need to watch the rest of his work:

🍿 "Sopa 1,80..." TAVERN MAN (2012), a lonely innkeeper is preparing lonely soup and waiting at a lonely bus station with a lonely bouquet of flowers.

🍿 BICO (2004), a poetic postcard from one of them half-abandoned, half-empty mountain Portuguese villages close to the Spanish border. 10/10.

🍿

VAL LEWTON X 2:

🍿 VAL LEWTON: THE MAN IN THE SHADOW (2007) is a fair Martin Scorsese tribute to the legendary producer, responsible for a slate of terror/horror B-movies at RKO Studios during the 40's.

🍿 "Drink your milk!"

THE SEVENTH VICTIM, my 3rd horror film produced by Lewton, a story of a young woman discovering a Greenwich Village satanist cult. I understand that he was a "Producer-Auteur" and that his atmospheric mood pieces contained symbolic "underpinnings about sexuality, colonialism, power", but they are just not for me. The devil worshipers of Rosemary's Baby were more of my thing. But, Oh boy; That Bureau of Missing Persons surely was busy!

🍿

ADVENTURES IN PERCEPTION is a Dutch introduction to M. C. Escher's art. It's a terrible documentary, which is not helped by the dissonant modernist score, and the fact that this copy was of low-resolution. It was nominated for an Oscar in 1971. 1/10.

🍿

I've seen a bunch of documentaries about The Newport music festivals, both the jazz and folk varieties. 'Jazz on a Summer's Day' was masterful, and the Dylan ‘Don’t look back’ stood out. But this unfocused 1967 FESTIVAL was terrible, in spite of the rich lineup of dozens of folk, blues, gospel and bluegrass artists. Shoddy editing, very little exciting music and boring snippets of random people expressing their uninteresting opinions. 'Maggie's Farm', and a few seconds with Mimi & Richard Fariña, were the only worthy numbers. The crowd were 100% all white. 2/10.

🍿

Re-watch ♻️: The ZAZ posse, Zucker, Abrahams and Zucker, made some great spoof comedies (Airplane!, The Naked Gun movies, Hot shots, Police squad!, etc), and some not so-great straight comedies, like RUTHLESS PEOPLE (1986). "They were entirely different kinds of movies" and I forgot how forgettable this one was. It gets 1 point from me for the Jimi Hendrix's 'Foxy Lady' use, and 1 for credit animation by Sally Cruikshank, but that's about all. So, 2/10.

"Hey! It's Enrico Palazzo!" RIP, Jim Abraham.

🍿

SOME SHORTS:

🍿 CARS WITHOUT A HOME (1959) a quirky, jazzy mockumentary about abandoned cars in Czechoslovakia.

🍿 In MOTHERLAND (2022), a young Korean adoptee raised in America, returns to Korea to search for her birth mother. It's one of many movies about the Korean diaspora. (Via). [*Female Director*]

🍿 While waiting for her new Oscar picked film 'Arzé', I took in Mira Shaib's 2021 STILL ❤ BEIRUT. It covers some of the responses to the giant chemical explosion that devastated the city, and caused a national trauma, but wasn't very good. [*Female Director*]

🍿

This cute story by one Jameela Jamil got me curious enough to check out a television show called THE GOOD PLACE. One episode of "smart" fantasy, "creative", all inclusive and bright. But so so glib, shallow pop culture trying to appear deep. After two minutes of the second episode, I had enough.

🍿

(ALL MY FILM REVIEWS - HERE).

[fearedblueflames]

Hawks / Keigo Takami dating hcs <3

Hello everyone! I know it's been a while since I last posted, but I'll be a bit more active from now on! Enjoy reading! (Please do not copy or plagiarize my work!)

━━━━━━━━━━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━━━━━━━━━━

he still has the Endeavor plushie from his childhood

I can imagine that when he's bored bc you're working at home he'll open the door, peek his head inside and stare at you like a chicken until you turn your attention to him

Too. Many. Feathers. On. The. Floor.

probably startles sometimes when he walks past a mirror

your shared bed is full of pillows and blankets, mostly during spring

possesive, especially when someone approaches you

he'll stare them down until they apologise and leave quickly

pretty touchy, unless you don't like it, then he'll find other ways to show you his affection

deep talks during night time are his favourite

when he thinks he can fully trust you, he will also vent quite often

absolutely melts when you do his eyeliner

when you do, don't be surprised bc you will have to sit on his lap <3

always has his arm around your waist

passionate kisses >>>>>>>>>>>>>

definitely at night, but also randomly at day time will kisses lead to heated make out sessions

loves to mess with you, always sends a feather to you

nicknames for you: kid/kiddo, love bird, dove, little hummingbird, princess/prince, baby bird, chicken wing (when he's messing with you), doll, song bird, birdie (this man will call you every bird name)

don't try to mess with him by touching his wings cuz you'll be the one who needs a wheelchair after

he really loves you, don't try any cheat/break up pranks, it will take weeks till he'll trust you again (in the best case scenario that is)

just in case gave you a feather so he knows where you are :)

(I hope these are accurate, though they're a little short, a reminder that my headcanons are just how I feel like the characters are, if you have different then that's okay! The next one will definitely be Dabi, but let me know who I should do after! Have a nice day/night!)

[chillart22]

2024 is easily my worst year.. yet.

Spring 🌸

It started in the spring, when lying in bed at night became painful, I had a sharp pain in my ankle at the area where it touches my bed, and to prevent the pressure sore I have to sleep in a more uncomfortable pose.. I'm used to it by now so it's ok, no big deal.

Summer ☀️

My mom's health got worse, she's been my caregiver for many years now, and because I don't have the strength to transfer in and out of my wheelchair all by myself she has to do all the lifting. She's 67 years old, she's strong and does everything alone but it took a toll on her health and every lift is more and more painful for her. There's literally nobody else who could help us or I could rely on. I only have a good life as long as I have my mom by my side. If she has to go to a hospital, or worse and I end up alone I will be sent away in a care home. That's something I want to never ever experience.

Fall 🍁

In the fall I found an amazing ceiling lift, which would be life changing for us and I could even use it alone but that would be around $15k 😞 which is way out of our reach.

Because I can only sleep on my right side since last week I started having pain in my hip too. Which means I have to sit up at least 2 or 3 times every night, to relieve the pressure from that area. My sleeping schedule is completely ruined and it affects my daily life too. I'll be buying a mattress topper, hopefully it will make my bed softer to sleep in.

Oh and I also had inflammation 3 times this year from a teeth but I cannot go to the dentist because of the upper mentioned reason.

And there's another thing... I haven't left home for many years now (I do go out to the garden/front yard but I don't leave our property), at this point even the thoughts of leaving terrifies me. Now I have to go to the bank to confirm my bank account which I've been using for over 10 years, they require a document based verification. But I don't even have a valid ID card, it expired last year, I have to renew that too. This put an enormously stress on me. No idea how will I get it done..

So yeah, that's life.

If you're still reading then thank you 💖 and I'm sorry I didn't mean to complain I just don't have anyone to tell this and I needed to vent a little.

Update: I bought a mattress topper but it didn't help, just made everything worse, so I'm back where I started.

[nineinchclaws]

🦇⠀ash williams & reader with POTS

fandom⠀evil dead

characters⠀ash williams (army of darkness)

warning(s)⠀some sexually explicit content towards the end, very brief mention of alcohol

tags⠀gender neutral reader, established relationship

note(s)⠀getting kind of self indulgent with this one fellas!!! so this is just mainly going off of my own experience and things i do. also sorry if ash is ooc, i'm not really used to writing him yet and am still trying to figure out how to <//3

divider⠀firefly-graphics

*⠀ash had never heard of POTS before he met you, so naturally, he was quite curious about it and asked you questions when he could.

*⠀he knew to be respectful and not push boundaries with asking these questions. in fact, he was a little bashful about it because of how much he liked you, just wanting to be careful as to not make you uncomfortable. any answers you gave, he'd listen closely and do his best to remember.

*⠀when you two got closer and he found his feelings for you growing, his main way to educate himself outside of asking you was by reading, so he'd pick up any books or magazines that he could and payed quite close attention to them.

*⠀being physically disabled himself, he knows how frustrating and upsetting it can be at times, and especially with ignorant people.

*⠀if you use a mobility aid and he sees people badgering you about it and making inappropriate comments, or touching it without permission, he has no problem getting them to back off, if you want help. will probably throw a few punches if he really has to.

*⠀he trusts you to be able to take care of yourself, but will still occasionally ask you things like if you have a salty snack and a drink with you whenever you go out. also always makes sure that your pantry is stocked with salty foods, and has no problem paying for these things if he goes grocery shopping alone.

*⠀also makes sure that you have painkillers for the headaches.

*⠀very willing to go on last minute shopping trips if you find you're all out of any of these things.

*⠀all in all, he's aware of and respectful of the fact that you can still be independent and are capable of doing things on your own, perhaps some more than others. but if you ever need a hand with anything, just call for him and he'll be there.

*⠀if you're part of the percentage of people that experience syncope, ash makes sure he knows the warning signs and will always try to be there when you faint to catch you and have you sit or lay down somewhere. he'll stay by your side until you wake up and he knows you're alright.

*⠀very patient when it comes to your brain fog. however, the first few times he noticed you pausing for longer than someone else might, he tended to try and help by trying to finish your sentence for you. of course, this often didn't help as much as he thought it would and you just ended up losing your train of thought completely.

*⠀he did eventually stop doing that when you told him, because he'd probably just continue to do it without piecing things together on his own if you didn't.

*⠀after this, though, he is patient. he doesn't mind waiting for something to click in your brain or for you to collect your thoughts or remember what you were saying. he'll also reassure you that you did, in fact, turn off the oven or lock the door.

*⠀has no problem attending your hospital/doctor appointments if you want him to come, and if he's free. he'll help you deal with asshole doctors if you're not able to on your own. he's always sticking up for you.

*⠀if you go somewhere and it isn't wheelchair accessible, and especially when it is described as such, he is pissed. unfortunately, due to this being the '80s and accessibility not being law until 1990 in michigan, there isn't much you guys can legally do about it. he might chew out whoever's in charge of the place, but if you don't want him to, he'll keep quiet. for your sake, he won't complain about it to you, but you can tell he's annoyed. though, he's much more concerned about you than himself.

*⠀ash will absolutely listen to you complain about anything, not just your chronic illness, and he always shows you sympathy.

*⠀he'll help you to decide on a design for your compression socks/stockings if you ask him to.

*⠀encourages you not to stay in bed too much so things don't worsen, but doesn't push you. if you can exercise, he does it with you. he also makes sure to go on a walk with you as often as possible, and brings along your wheelchair or carries you back home if you're not able to continue walking.

*⠀ash loves going on these walks. he finds it relaxing being able to go out and enjoy nature with the person he loves.

*⠀obviously he loves to flirt with you and tease you. making you flustered is one of his favourite things, and obviously, this gets your heart pumping faster and faster and one time, it's so bad you almost faint. he helps steady you if he notices you swaying and helps you to sit or lay down. he feels bad, but he can't help but let out a little laugh as he teases one last time,

*⠀"you really like me that much, baby?"

*⠀you shoot him a playful glare and he stops, still smiling a little as he sees what else he can do to make things easier for you.

*⠀makes sure that your apartment isn't too warm or too cold, as he knows how sensitive you are to temperature and that hot environments can make your symptoms flare up. he'll buy you a handheld fan for when it's hot outside, too.

*⠀will hold your hands to try and warm them up.

*⠀he has to get used to you sighing heavily and sometimes multiple times when you're dealing with air hunger. at the beginning of your relationship, he thinks you're angry at him or about something and will ask you if something's wrong, but of course, usually things are alright and you're just battling with your lungs. he does eventually learn.

*⠀at times, cuddling with him can be either heaven or hell: heaven, because he's practically a heater and keeps you warm, and hell, because sometimes you get too warm, and you end up burning up.

*⠀he ends up becoming very familiar with the signs that you're not doing good: breathing heavily and/or slowly or your eyes fluttering or when you get quiet when you're feeling nauseous, dizzy, or lightheaded, when you sway in place, or when you rest your head on something and close your eyes to try and deal with certain symptoms.

*⠀if you aren't able to work, ash doesn't judge at all, and if he's around when anyone gives you shit for it and you can't defend yourself, he'll jump in to get the person to stop being an asshole.

*⠀doesn't mind carrying you if you ever need him to. he loves getting to have you in his arms and holding you close to him, so any chance he gets, he'll take it.

*⠀never gets angry with you if you need to cancel plans. sure, he'll be a little disappointed, but he's much more concerned for you and wants you to be alright.

*⠀likes to decorate any mobility aids you have (cane, crutches, walker, wheelchair, etc.) with you, mainly by putting stickers or ribbons on them. however, ash isn't really the best when it comes to decorating, so some recommendations he gives you either look ridiculous or clash with your mobility aid and/or any other decorations it has. he does try his best.

*⠀any days that you're stuck in bed or on the couch, ash will gladly spend them with you and do anything he can to make things easier for you. ask him to do a chore that desperately needs doing? he's on it. need him to run to the store? he's already grabbing his keys, but won't leave without giving you a kiss somewhere on your face. just want a shoulder to cry on or you want a hug? come straight to ash.

*⠀as much as he loves alcohol, he may urge you to be careful with it and steer clear of it, if it triggers your symptoms. the same goes for caffeine.

*⠀he really loves to shower and take baths with you, for some reasons more obvious than others, but he also really just likes getting to help you get clean. if you need him to help you bathe, he'll do so with enthusiasm.

*⠀he loves hot baths, but he's willing to sacrifice them when you join him if they make you dizzy or nauseous.

*⠀if you guys have a sexual relationship, he makes sure to be careful with you. he won't water down the things he usually does in bed (not if you don't need him to) and he checks up on you as frequently as he would with anyone, but he does keep a little bit of a closer eye on you to make sure you're still doing okay and that you're not about to pass out.

*⠀if you do, he'll stop what he's doing and, depending on where you are and what position you're in, he'll lay you down somewhere and prop your feet up with a pillow and get you something to drink - either water or a sports drink - and something salty to eat, or even some ice if that helps, for when you wake up again. he also has no issue waiting for you to be able to continue or completely ending it there if you can't or don't want to go on.

*⠀one of ash's favourite positions is doggy, but if you aren't able to do that for very long or at all, he can definitely settle for another position. another of his favourites is pronebone, which should be much easier for you to handle, given that all you need to do is lay on your stomach.

*⠀having your ankles over his shoulders is also pretty good, one of the reasons being that having your feet up helps circulate your blood better, and you could definitely use that during something that gets your heart beating fast, such as this.

*⠀when it comes to aftercare, he wasn't too good at the start, having not known too much about your specific needs. but the longer you're together, the more he gets used to what you need and want. he'll let you rest while he cleans up, then lays with you and props your feet up with a pillow. he'll cuddle you while asking how you're doing and getting you a drink or food to help you feel a little better if your symptoms are flaring up. and if you're feeling well enough, he'll get a bath started for you.