#it just barely been a week since my diagnosis

[iridescentclaws]

Diabetes is so homophobic I can't take it anymore /lh /hj

[ctrl-alt-deleting-yr-face]

it’s probably not a good thing that i relate to this song as much as i do huh

[official-megumin]

the donations post is once again dying out, so I'm making a new one.

We still really need money, I keep getting more sick.

It's so bad that I can barely even be transported by car because the changes in speed makes it feel like my head is collapsing in on itself.

But also walking leaves me so exhausted I can't comfortably stand up. I have been pretty much bedridden for weeks now, and my assisted living home isn't accomodating my needs at all.

They're supposed to be providing food, but since I have allergies. They don't actually make sure I can eat it. So we've had to order take-away, which is obviously kinda expensive.

I'm still trying to get medical staff to listen to me, I have gotten blood work done to see if any of my hormone levels can explain my illness, and from what I can see, it doesn't explain anything.

I also have a doctor's appointment this monday after having had to wait all month for it.

So please help us out, we still haven't been able to work on getting any further with marriage approval because of how sick I have been. We also need to have a diagnosis worked out for the approval anyway.

We genuinely have no way of making this all work out without help.

I could also still really use some help to just give us a bit more money to run on till next friday where I will get paid again.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 1- The Arrangement

Arranged For Love (Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Everything seemed to be going well for Y/N until it doesn't. Will this life altering event bring her closer to her family. Will this life altering event introduce her to Carlos?

The reader is Y/N, other than that everyone has a name

Y/N was majoring in Business; just like her grandma, Anika Baker had wanted. "You're smart, you're rational and the best of all you're kind" she would tell her grand daughter growing up. That's why she was currently studying to maybe take over her family business when she grew up.

She grew up in a matriarchy, where after the untimely death of her grandfather; her grandmother took the lead and brought the company to where it is now. Eventually, she did step back and let her son, Ivan and daughter-in-law, Rose Aguirre handle it. That was when Y/N was born. The first born of their family, she was so pampered; she got whatever she wanted. She had her dad wrapped around her little pudgy finger.

So, when her parents were away, their grandmother raised her and her siblings. She fed them, helped them with their homework and best of all, told them stories of kings and dragons. Y/N would sit intently while her grandmother would massage her feet after a tiring day at school or give her a head massage when it ached. Y/N would always love spending time with her, one way or another.

Y/N was off too college as soon as she turned 18. She finally got to be back home after 2 years for longer than a few weeks; the reason wasn't something to be happy about since a virus had spread across the world and was killing people at an alarming rate. Which meant school, colleges, offices had all shut down and were working from home. When she hugged her grandma for the first time in 6 months; "You've gotten thinner since the last time I saw you" she squinted her eyes at her grandma. "You know how it is with age, I don't have the appetite anymore" her grandmother reasoned. "Well, you should still eat. I'm gonna make sure you gain weight before I leave" Y/N said determined. "Sure, sweetheart" she laughed. "Let's have food. It's nice to have everyone back home, together for once" she emphasised. Y/N held her grandmother's hand as they walked to the dining table for lunch.

A month or so after she was back, her grandmother had started feeling ill. She wouldn't be able to hold down any food and she had been complaining of a stomach ache. With COVID restrictions, getting an appointment was extremely difficult. After a week or so, thankfully, her dad was now at the doctor's office with his mother. The kids were at home, dotting it down to the regular stomach flu which was taking longer than usual to clear.

What came as a surprise to the family, after a couple tests was that, the matriarch of the house was suffering from stomach cancer. Couple more tests later, and it said that it had advanced quite a bit having spread all over the body. The doctors weren't sure what they could do other than ease her pain. Everyone was crying in their rooms while trying to hold a tough facade in front of Anika, so as to not worry her.

At breakfast, a few days after the diagnosis. "You lot are all cry babies. It's just cancer. I'll get the treatment and be well" Anika smiled. Everyone hoped what she was saying was true. But as the treatments started; things started to get worse for her. The medicines were taking a toll on her. Their once active grandmother was reduced to bathroom runs and staying put in her bed. She barely had the energy to eat on her own.

The matriarch's children were sad and couldn't help but cry since they couldn't do much for their mother other than watch. The grandkids would think of ways to make food exciting for their grandmother. The whole family had come together. They were all living together to care for their ailing mother. "I like this very much" Anika told Y/N. "What do you like, grandma?" she asked. "Having all my children here, fretting over me" she said looking at her 2 children fondly. Y/N smiled, "They always fret over you, for as long as I can remember" she replied. "Hmm...but this feel different...it feels nice" she hummed.

They had a scare a few months later; Anika's health had deteriorated suddenly and needed hospitalisation. When she was admitted in the hospital; everyone went to visit her in turns. "I wish I got to see at least one of my grandkids get married" she said barely above a whisper. She beckoned Y/N forward, "Darling, you're the oldest. You're the smartest. You always listen to your grandma don't you" she cooed. "Grandma, I don't like where this is going." she mumbled. "I know it is too much to ask for but why don't you get married. I'll find you a nice man" she reasoned. "Grandma, no. I'm only 20. I'm not getting married, not yet anyways." she whined. "ugh! I love you grandma, I really do but I don't have any plans of getting married, yet" she said pulling away from her grandma. "I'm going home. I hope you get well soon" she stormed off.

Y/N was fuming, she got that her grandma was sick and wanted to see major milestones in her grandkids lives and she wanted to share her happiness with her too but that doesn't mean she will throw her own granddaughter under the bus. She hated the fact that it was always her who would have to do as the elders told her to. Why couldn't it be her siblings or her cousins for once? Why did she have to get a married now? She has so much she wants to achieve, she can't be tied down just yet. People her age barely even remembered the name of the person they last slept with and she should get married; her grandma had gone crazy, she thought.

While Y/N was losing her mind because her grandma wanted her married; Carlos Sainz Junior was losing his mind since he got a contract with Ferrari next year.

In the world of Formula One, there was a change in tide. Sebastian Vettel would no longer be driving for Ferrari in the upcoming season; instead he was being replaced with an up and coming driving Carlos Sainz who was currently driving for McLaren. COVID had put a damper on things; but nothing could contain Carlos's excitement. He would be driving in red next year, something almost every driver had dreamt of when they dreamt of Formula One.

Carlos was your typical Formula One driver, he asked his father for guidance since he was a Rally Champion and looked up to some great drivers as inspiration. He had big plans; plan of winning his first race, plans of winning a championship title, plans of racing until he was 60 but none of those plans involved getting married any time soon. He couldn't imagine himself settling down, just yet even though his sister was planning on getting married herself. He had a long way to go; the biggest obstacle, he wasn't dating anyone as of yet so obviously marriage was off the table for the foreseeable future.

Now, there's a saying, sickness brings the lost together. That's exactly what had happened. Carlos senior had grown up with a family, albeit only for a few years of his childhood but those were formative years and he had spent a lot of his time with the Kastner family. They were his neighbours and even after they had moved away, they had still stayed in touch. He wouldn't forget their kindness and hospitality. For the few years that they were around he was incharge of making sure the oldest of the Kastner family, Ivan got to and back from school safely.

When Carlos senior found out about the ailing health of Mrs Kastner who would make him delicious food and baby sat them when necessary, he flew in as soon as he could with his family in tow. COVID didn't make it easy to visit the sick but Carlos senior would be damned if he didn't meet or introduce his kids to the woman he talked about. Carlos senior greeted Ivan, "You've aged" he laughed patting his back. "As if you haven't" he clapped back. The two happy to see each other after a very long time apart. "I heard Aunt Anika is sick" Carlos senior spoke. "News travels fast" Ivan chuckled. "Not fast enough since she's been sick for a while and I only found out after she was admitted" Carlos senior pointed out. "Yes, yes, she'll be discharged soon. She's been doing so much better for the past few days" Ivan explained. "That's good to know" Carlos senior sighed. "Can we meet her?" he asked hopeful. "I think she'll be over the moon when she find out you've come. She kept up with all your races" Ivan added. "I'm glad she did. I think it was the combined prayers of my mother and yours that I'm still alive after being this reckless" Carlos senior laughed. "That I will not disagree with" Ivan smiled opening the door to the hospital room where Anika was reading the day's paper. She placed the paper down to see who it was and a smile broke out on her face; "Carlos, darling, how've been? I've missed you" she spoke trying to get up but Carlos senior was already by her side, "Don't get up. I'm right here" he leaned down and hugged her. "I've missed you too." he whispered. She patted his back, "I see you've done well for yourself" she said scanning the faces of the 4 people behind him. He pulled away and introduced his wife and 3 kids to her. "Did he get into rallying just like his father?" she asked shaking Carlos junior's hand. "Worse, he's in Formula One" Carlos senior smiled. "Darling, stay safe. I might have to start praying for one more now" she shook her head. "This is the woman who was best friend's with your grandmother and they love each other too much" Carlos senior announced to his kids. "What team does he race for?" Anika asked Carlos senior drawing his attention. "I'm racing for McLaren now, but I'll be racing for Ferrari next year" Carlos junior replied. "congratulations dear. And Carlos, a bit narcissistic I think to name your kid after you" she laughed.

The atmosphere was lively and bright, everyone was busy catching up with each other and trying to let each other know what was going on with the other.

In all of this, the gears in Anika's head were spinning. If Carlos's son, Carlos was single he would be the right fit for her grand daughter. She had always adored and dotted on Carlos senior growing up, so it would only make sense that she would want a good family to take care of her grand daughter. If there's anything to go by how Carlos senior turned out, Carlos junior would fit right in with their family. She felt giddy thinking about the possibility of merging their two families. She knew if everything went well, they could easily be getting married at the end of the year or the beginning of the next. She just wanted what was good for her grand daughter, having something nice come out of it like a handsome and rich husband was a bonus.

The Sainz would be staying in town for a few days before they would be leaving. Anika had invited them over for dinner once she would be discharged since she couldn't send them away without feeding them herself. It was a day before her discharge and she was sat with both Ivan and Carlos. "Since the two of you are here, there's a proposition I would like to make" she said. The two men sat up straight waiting for Anika to continue. "I might not live long" she began but was cut off by mutual 'nos and you'll live a long life' before she shushed them. "Let's listen to the doctors and I know they are trying their best but we have to be realistic too. If I do live long, I'll get to watch the happiness unfold if don't then I'll at least be a part of some of it." she explained. The two men were very confused with where she was trying to go. "I want to make a proposition like I said, I think it would be great if Carlos's son, Carlos married Ivan's daughter, Y/N. I've always wanted to watch my grand kids get married, this way I can die happy" she finished. Their mouths opened and closed a few times before Carlos spoke, "Aren't they still too young?" he asked. "It's just a suggestion, it's up to you two and them to decided if they'll go through with it. Would I be happy if they got married? Obviously but at the end of the day it'll all up to the kids. I just want what's best for them" Anika said. The two men were thinking. They were stuck. "You two can think about it, maybe we can introduce them to each other at the dinner tomorrow" Anika said hopeful. This was going to be difficult conversation to have for both Carlos and Ivan, they thought.

Taglist- @herexpertcollector @redrevvedup @chaostudee @larastark3107 @jovialpainterunknown @vip-access @sugarvibez @champomiel @inarabee @virazeeee @seonghwaexile @champ15ns @ajthefujoshi @musicheaux @npcmia @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @mochipatch @gleeblegnarp @formula1-motogpfan @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs

[kentsjohnson91]

𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮ᵐʳ⁷³

*gif by @makarhughes

in which matt’s helped y/n through her chronic illness for years, but one night, it all becomes too much.

warnings; chronic illness (lupus), hospitals + hospitalization, worried matt rempe

When you were 14, you sat in the sterile doctor's office, your hands trembling slightly as you waited for test results. You had been feeling off for months—fatigue, joint pain, strange rashes—and you knew something was wrong, but hearing the words "You have lupus" felt like the ground was pulled from beneath you. Your chest tightened as the doctor explained the diagnosis, your mind racing with questions you didn’t know how to ask. All you could think about was how this would affect your life, your schooling, and the people you loved. You felt numb, unable to process it all at once.

When you were 19, you had met Matt during an off-season charity event. You were volunteering at an animal shelter, and hadn’t expected much from the night, just another hockey fundraiser with a few familiar, but many unfamiliar faces. But when you were introduced to Matt, something clicked. He was easygoing, with a quiet charm that drew you in right away. You guys spent the evening talking, first about hockey, then about everything else. By the end of the night, you were laughing like old friends. You hadn't thought much of it at first, but as time went on, your paths kept crossing, and it became clear that meeting Matt wasn’t just a coincidence—it was the start of something that changed your life.

Telling Matt about your chronic illness had been one of the hardest things you ever did. You remembered the night clearly, sitting across from him with your hands clenched tightly in your lap. Your heart pounded as you struggled to find the right words, terrified of how he might react, “I have lupus.” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, afraid of seeing pity or disappointment in his eyes. But instead of pulling away, Matt gently reached for your hand, his quiet reassurance easing some of the weight you’d been carrying alone for so long.

Ever since then, he’d been the absolute sweetest boyfriend — always taking care of you when things got rough, and always reassuring you about your strength and resilience. It had even gotten to the point where Matt had offered to take games and practices off, but you always told him no. Despite his reluctance, he always listened to you.

While you had been feeling okay over the past couple of weeks, today was one of those days.

It had been one of those mornings where you knew, as soon as you opened your eyes, that it was going to be a rough day. Your body ached in ways that made it hard to move, and a low fever had settled in overnight, leaving you feeling drained. You groaned softly, rolling over and catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror— the familiar butterfly-shaped rash had returned, bright across your cheeks.

Matt wasn’t in bed next to you. You cursed to yourself as you realized the time, noting that he was at morning practice. You groaned, tears welling up in your eyes at the pain you were in. You tried to fight through it and get out of bed, but the pain was too much. You felt helpless. With the strength you did have, you reached out to grab your phone off of the nightstand next to you, sending a quick text to Matt.

one of those days. will you be home soon?

You waited anxiously for Matt’s reply, but didn’t have to wait long.

leaving the arena now. be home soon, my love.

On the other end of the phone, Matt could sense something was wrong. Even when you were dealing with a flare up, you were as independent as could be. You hated asking for help, because it made you feel like you were a burden. The fact that you texted him was a miracle in itself.

When he got home, he set his gear down in the garage and made his way up the stairs to your room as quickly as he could. Within minutes, he was sitting beside you on the bed, concern etched on his face. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently, brushing a hand across your forehead to check for a fever. You were burning up.

“Better now that you’re here,” you joked, cracking a small smile, but Matt could see right through it. He smiled at you sadly, climbing into bed next to you. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes. Whenever you went through a flare up, you felt as though you could sleep for days on end.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes, settling down under the blankets as you gently placed your head on his shoulder, “close your eyes, love, and just rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

So you did.

Matt stayed close all day, making sure you stayed hydrated when you woke up, adjusting the pillows when you needed more comfort, and even gently applying cool compresses to your face when the heat of your fever became unbearable. Every time you tried to apologize or downplay your discomfort, he stopped you with a quiet, reassuring smile, “I’ve got you,” he’d say, his voice calm and steady.

By the time bedtime came around, you were still achy, but the fever had gone down a little, and the rash had begun to fade. Matt had barely left your side, keeping the TV on low and talking to you softly, filling the silence with easy conversation to distract you from the pain. As the two of you lay in bed that night, Matt’s arm draped protectively over you, and you felt a deep sense of comfort. You hated feeling weak, but with Matt, it never felt like you had to fight alone.

As you fluttered off to sleep, Matt pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. He loved it when you slept — you were so extremely beautiful, and he knew that sleeping took the pain away for a brief moment of time. At the same time, however, he couldn’t help but worry. It had been a long time since he’d seen a flare up this bad, but you had gotten through it. That gave him just enough solace to fall asleep next to you after hours of worrying as you slept, his arm still draped gently over your body.

Within minutes of his eyes closing, Matt stirred in his sleep, feeling you shift beside him. He was exhausted, having stayed by your side all day, but he’d never leave you when you were having such a rough time with your illness. He had only just fallen asleep when he felt a light tug on his arm.

“Matt…” your voice was faint, barely a whisper in the dark room, but there was an unmistakable tremor in it that shot adrenaline through him.

He blinked his eyes open and sat up quickly, heart already pounding. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, even though dread immediately settled in his chest.

You looked at him, your face pale and clammy, beads of sweat dotting your forehead. You swallowed hard, struggling to speak. “I… I don’t feel right. It’s never been this bad before. I think… I think I should go to the hospital.”

Matt’s stomach dropped. The words hit him like a punch, and suddenly, he was wide awake, fear gnawing at him. He kept his face calm, though—he had to. If you saw how scared he was, it would only make you panic.

“Okay,” he said gently, his voice even though his mind was racing. “Let’s get you there. Can you sit up?”

You nodded weakly, but as you tried to move, you winced in pain, and Matt immediately reached over, helping you. His hands were steady, though inside, his chest felt like it was caving in. You were never the type to admit that you needed help, and hearing you say that you wanted to go to the hospital made his heart twist in his chest.

Once you were sitting up, Matt quickly grabbed a sweatshirt for you, carefully sliding it over your shoulders before easing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his hands never leaving you as he helped you stand.

Every second felt like it stretched on forever. In his mind, he was already imagining the worst—what if something was really wrong? What if you were in more pain than you let on? But outwardly, he stayed calm, focusing on the next step. He needed to get you to the hospital, and everything else could wait.

Once the two of you were in the car, Matt kept glancing over at you, his hand gripping the wheel tighter than necessary. “You’re doing great,” he said softly, hoping the words would bring you some comfort, though the knot in his stomach tightened every time you shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“It hurts,” you cried out, your voice shaky as you gripped your stomach and leaned forward to rest your head on the dashboard. Matt flinched at the pain in your voice, tears gathering in his eyes, but he couldn’t let them spill.

“I know, baby, I know. We’re almost there, just hold on.”

The drive felt like it took forever, every red light adding another layer to Matt’s mounting anxiety. But he didn’t rush. The last thing you needed was a reckless driver on top of everything else.

When you finally arrived at the hospital, Matt helped you out of the car, wrapping his arm securely around your waist as you guys made your way inside. The bright lights and sterile smell of the hospital hit him hard, but he kept his focus on you, his heart aching at how much pain you seemed to be in.

As Matt checked in, you leaned heavily against him, your head resting on his shoulder. You hadn’t said much since the car ride, and Matt’s worry spiked even higher.

The nurse took both of you to a room, and once you were settled on the hospital bed, Matt pulled a chair close, refusing to leave your side. The doctors came in, asking you questions. Although you were obviously in tremendous pain, the doctors wouldn’t let up and get you help. But all Matt could do was watch, his hands clenched together in his lap, his mind screaming for answers.

When the doctors left to run tests, Matt finally let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He took your hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re gonna be okay, alright? They’ll figure out what’s going on.”

You gave him a small, tired nod, your eyes glassy from pain and exhaustion. “Thanks for staying calm,” you whispered, your voice weak but filled with gratitude.

Matt forced a smile, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Anything for you.” But inside, his heart was racing, every second dragging on painfully as he waited for some kind of news. He kept stroking your hand, praying silently that everything would be okay, all while forcing his expression to stay calm.

For your sake, he would hold it together. But the second you were out of this hospital, he’d let all his fear and worry flood out—just not yet. Not until you were okay.

Within minutes, you had passed out from exhaustion. The doctors moved quickly around you. Matt stood by your side, holding your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in an attempt to soothe both you and himself. Although you were asleep, he could feel the tension in your grip, the way you were holding on to him like he was your anchor in a storm.

“I’m right here,” he whispered softly, leaning closer to you. “You’re going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

But even as he said it, the fear gnawed at him. What if you weren’t okay? What if this time was worse than before?

The doctors were speaking in low tones, their words just out of reach, and Matt’s stomach churned as he tried to make sense of it all. He wanted to demand answers, to make them tell him what was going on, but he couldn’t leave you. He needed to stay with you, to keep you calm, even as his own fear threatened to overwhelm him.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor approached, her expression serious but not alarming. Matt held his breath.

“We’re going to admit Y/N for observation,” the doctor explained. “Her symptoms are concerning, but we’re taking all the necessary steps to stabilize her. We’ll get her comfortable and monitor her closely.”

Matt nodded, swallowing hard. “Is she going to be okay?”

The doctor offered a small, reassuring smile. “We’re doing everything we can. She’s in good hands, Mr. Rempe.”

Matt thanked her, but his focus was already back on you. You were still holding his hand, your grip weak but steady, your eyes still closed as they wheeled you toward a permanent room. His chest tightened again, but he forced himself to stay composed, even though he was falling apart inside.

Once you were in the room, Matt sat down beside your bed, his hand still clutching yours. The room was quiet, the beeping of machines the only sound breaking the silence. Your breathing had calmed slightly, but you looked so pale, so fragile, that it nearly broke him.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead on your joined hands, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m here. You’re going to get through this, okay? You’re stronger than this. I know you are.”

And even though he was terrified, even though the fear still clawed at him, Matt knew he’d stay with you through it all. No matter how scared he was, no matter how hard it got, he wouldn’t leave your side.

You were everything to him, and he’d do whatever it took to make sure you were okay. Even if that meant staying up all night, fighting sleep when his eyes would flutter shut. The clock struck 1:00, 2:00, 3:00, 4:00, 5:00, and so on, but the boy refused to sleep, his tired eyes glancing over to you in concern more times than he could count. Time moved slowly, but that didn’t matter to Matt.

The next morning, around 9:00, sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of the hospital room, casting a soft glow across the bed. You blinked awake slowly, the familiar beeping of machines and the sterile hospital scent filling your senses. As you adjusted to the light, your eyes immediately found Matt.

He was still in the same chair beside your bed, his posture tense but upright. His hand was still holding yours, his grip firm even though he looked utterly exhausted. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and it was clear he hadn’t slept at all. His face was slightly scruffy, and his hair was messy from running his hands through it all night, but his gaze was focused entirely on you, concern etched deeply into his features.

“Matt?” your voice came out raspy, your throat dry from a night of fitful sleep. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, trying to pull his attention back from wherever his thoughts had drifted.

His eyes snapped to yours, relief flooding his expression as soon as he saw you were awake. He immediately leaned forward, his tired features softening. “Hey,” he whispered, his voice thick with fatigue. “You’re awake.”

You nodded slowly, your body still heavy with exhaustion, but you could already feel the difference. You felt better—weak, but a little better, “You stayed up all night?” you asked softly, your heart aching at the sight of him so worn out, knowing he had been up watching over you.

Matt gave you a tired smile, but his eyes were filled with love and relief. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice gentle, “I didn’t want to sleep in case you needed me.”

You frowned, your heart swelling with love for him, but also a hint of guilt creeping in. “Matt, you didn’t have to do that. You need rest too.”

He shook his head quickly, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. “I’m fine. I wanted to be here. The only thing that matters is you.”

The emotion in his voice made your chest tighten, and you felt tears prick your eyes as you looked at him. You knew he was tired, that he had been running on pure adrenaline and fear since the two of you had arrived at the hospital, but there he was, still sitting by your side, refusing to leave.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

Matt leaned forward, his free hand brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “You won’t ever have to find out,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I’m always going to be here for you. No matter how hard things get.”

Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in your eyes. “I hate that you’re worrying so much,” you whispered. “I hate that you have to deal with this because of me.”

Matt’s expression softened, and he shifted in his chair, leaning in closer to you. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. Not even close. I’d do this a thousand times over if it meant being here for you. You’re everything to me.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart swell, and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You let them fall silently, grateful for his unwavering support, his love that never faltered even when things got tough. You squeezed his hand tightly, wanting him to know how much he meant to you, how much his presence had kept you grounded through everything.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the words filled with all the emotion you couldn’t fully express.

Matt’s face softened even more, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you too,” he murmured, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment before he pulled back to meet your eyes. “More than anything.”

You stayed like that for a while, the room filled with a quiet peace as you held onto each other. You could feel the weight of everything—your illness, the hospital, the fear—start to lift, replaced by the warmth and comfort of Matt’s love. He had been your rock through it all, never wavering, never leaving your side.

“You should rest now,” you whispered softly, your hand still holding onto his. “You’ve done so much for me. Let me take care of you for a little bit.”

Matt chuckled softly, the sound warm and soothing despite his exhaustion. “Maybe in a little while,” he said with a tired smile. “But right now, I just want to be with you.”

You smiled up at him, your heart full. “You’re the best,” you whispered, your voice filled with affection.

Matt gave you a soft smile, his eyes filled with nothing but love. “Yeah,” he said quietly, brushing a thumb gently over your knuckles, “I know.”

You chuckled softly, an eye roll quickly following. But as the morning light filled the room, the two of you stayed there, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, knowing that together, you could face whatever came next.

That was until you checked the time, however. You groaned, and Matt’s head shot up, his brows furrowing as he looked over at you to figure out what was wrong, “Matthew Rempe! What happened to morning practice?”

And that was the first time he had left your side.

[valeriianz]

Summary: Part 2 of my Hard of Hearing!Dream. Part 1 here! Dream struggles with his new disability and Hob tries to help... along with Dream's new friend, Jessamy.

Square/Prompt: A1 - Why Did You Do It?

Rating: T

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: human AU, deaf!Dream, angst, happy ending, established relationship

Fill for @dreamlingbingo! (thank you @mallory-x for the read through!)

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When Dream turned 30, he celebrated it in a crowded bar that doubled as an art gallery, close to his apartment. It was his favorite bar, because it was an eclectic gallery first, with a bar open for events. Luckily, there was a local exhibit on the night of Dream’s birthday and he knew it would be the perfect place to celebrate. This way, he could appease his friends who wanted to go out and drink and celebrate, and Dream could stare at art and make a quick escape if need be. It gave a chance for everyone to focus on anything else but him after the initial round of shots. 

Hob never took his focus off Dream, though. Even when they would float away to opposite sides of the room, Dream would turn his head and find Hob staring at him, smiling at being caught before turning his attention back to the person he was in conversation with.

At that point, it had been two and a half years since Dream had told Hob about his diagnosis… that he would go permanently deaf. In that time, he did indeed completely lose his hearing in his left ear, but his right was still working pretty well. He had just gotten used to tilting his head slightly to the left so people would understand to talk directly into his good ear.

And Hob was still here. Patient, sweet, loving Hob. Who Dream secretly had a crush on probably since they were first introduced. They’d moved in together last year, and while there were some bumps in the road, complications that arose with moving in with a lover, Dream was surprised to find that he was… happy.

He couldn’t stand it, sometimes, how happy Hob made him. Even his friends had noticed how he smiled more, seemed to have a more positive outlook on life and even on his disability. And it felt natural, like Hob just brought out all the good traits about Dream, like they had been lying dormant and just needed the confidence, the reassurance that he was allowed to feel this way. This happy.

And then, 45 days after Dream’s birthday party, he woke up to Hob shaking him awake, because he was sleeping through his alarm that was apparently blasting through his phone.

But Dream couldn’t hear him. Or the alarm. 

He watched with horrifying realization, as Hob’s lips moved, hovering over him, but no words came out. 

So much for five years. 

Hob had clocked Dream’s blank stare relatively quick, his lips shaping the letters of Dream’s name with a hand on his face, Hob’s brows pinched up and–

Dream cried. 

He felt foolish for it. He knew this would happen eventually. He just thought he’d have more time. 

Dream speaks with his audiologist the next day, with Hob by his side. Dream had wondered about hearing aids while he still had a modicum of hearing, but had been hesitant. His insurance barely covered them and, while hearing aids may have helped in the past, after several tests, his audiologist confirmed with Dream that now, they wouldn’t even be able to pick up background noise. They wouldn’t help at all.

Dream and Hob had left the office with defeat hanging heavy in the air. Mostly from Dream. 

He’s not proud of the person he had been in the week following his permanent hearing loss.

But in time (and therapy), Dream was able to move on. And it really wasn’t so bad, once Dream accepted that this was his life now.

If he closes his eyes, he thinks he can still hear Hob’s voice, especially with his lips pressed against his throat, behind his ear, murmuring sweetness into his skin and sending vibrations into his skull. It’s one of the most calming things Dream has ever experienced; laying in bed with Hob, in the absolute darkness and absolute silence, his remaining senses heightened, it’s both relaxing and unexpectedly erotic. To feel Hob completely surrounding him, grounding Dream, warm and solid and safe, it lights Dream up from the inside and reassures him that everything would be okay.

And in time, Dream comes to appreciate the silence. It’s nice, it’s peaceful. Living in a large city, with constant chatter, cars honking and sirens blazing, used to be a sensory nightmare; that creeping, prickling feeling of overstimulation has vanished and now it’s just… nothingness. 

It was scary at first, Dream would be a fool to not admit it; watching the world continue around him, people living their lives, living his own life, all in absolute silence. Not being able to hear the beep of the microwave, indicating when his food was done, or water coming out of the faucet while he washed dishes, or the sizzle of oil in a pan while cooking… little things that Dream had never really perceived whilst hearing them every day. All of that sound just– gone. Like hitting the mute button on a movie.

Dream tries to convince himself that he doesn’t miss the mundane noises, he could barely hear them anyway… but he often feels lost without them. So learning to welcome the quiet was the only way Dream could stay sane.

Though going deaf after decades of being able to hear (albeit poorly) and speak gave Dream the advantage of continuing to communicate in spoken English. He still has an inner voice, can still read lips very well, and so the communication gap with his friends and even strangers isn’t as wide as Dream had feared.

It makes learning sign language difficult. Dream at first did not take the lessons very seriously, especially with Hob being the only person to practice with, in those early days. Hob did help, though; he fumbles and signs broken ASL and Dream fumbles back. But it had been so easy to fall back on the habit of using his voice. But as months turn into a full year, Dream learns by trial and error that he realistically can’t continue traversing through a hearing world without sign language.

The hardest challenge he’d run into, for example… Dream never thought he’d need to prove his deafness.

Of course people get confused when he can speak perfect English, out in public spaces like a cafe or a bookshop, only to then turn around and seemingly ignore everyone around him. It is a strange experience, for Dream, to go around communicating as usual, speaking when he can’t even hear his own voice and reading lips. But he can’t be constantly on the lookout for anybody trying to get his attention. Watching belatedly as someone he had been exchanging dialogue with, roll their eyes and walk away in a huff. Dream truthfully has no idea how he might come off to a complete stranger who can’t realize that he’s deaf. Rude, perhaps. Or uncaring.

It’s enough to convince Dream to get fake hearing aids… he feels ridiculous wearing them, like he’s giving in to a social construct that only exists in his own head. But, annoyingly, while wearing them, the way people communicate and treat him improves exponentially. 

Funny, that.

Hob, of course, notices.

“When did you get these?” He touches the little device in Dream’s ear, his fingers turning into a caress. “I thought aids didn’t work for you?”

Hob speaks while he signs, they both do, to help make the hand motions stick. Though Hob often slips up and signs exact English, not proper American Sign Language, which he’s doing now. It doesn’t help in the learning process, but it’s a start, and Dream has no leg to stand on when it comes to corrections.

Dream swipes his index finger across his nose.

“Fake.”

Dream offers no more explanation, turning a page in the book he’s reading. They’re sitting on the couch, Hob properly facing the TV, and Dream lounging sideways, his legs draped over Hob’s lap.

Hob taps the edge of Dream’s book, getting his attention once more.

“You’d rather put a sign on you that announces to the world you're deaf?”

Dream sighs, knocking his head back.

“I know I shouldn’t have to…” Dream starts, his fingers fumbling, a new sign of nervousness he never thought he’d had before. “But it might make things easier.”

“Things?” Hob finger spells, his hands coming down, palms up, in a sign of confusion.

Dream moves a hand to his mouth.

“Communication,” and then to his ear, “understanding.”

Hob’s brows furrow and Dream slowly looks back to his book.

Dream wonders if they’re thinking the same thing. Remembering how difficult it became, living together, after Dream lost his hearing permanently. Hob would forget that Dream couldn’t hear, which was frustrating enough, but the slip-ups were near constant in the beginning. 

They’d get into arguments over it, a flame that Dream wasn’t proud to admit he’d always fanned. He hated that his hackles were constantly rising, always on the offensive, like Dream was expecting Hob to take the bait and fight back. That would, of course, spiral into meaningless fights over something stupid like leaving the laundry in the dryer for too long, or forgetting to pick up a particular ingredient they needed for dinner at the grocery store.

Dream was ashamed to admit he didn’t help in the situations, often coping out by just– not looking at Hob so he couldn’t see his lips moving or his awkward signing. He’d turn around and stomp away and Hob would be left to chase after him, hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around so they could communicate.

It got easier… Hob was so patient with Dream. He never got so angry he would give up. He always apologized, even when Dream was just being dramatic. 

Hob knows by now that Dream would never take the easy route. And sure enough, Dream ditches the fake hearing aids. With them on, people started treating him with gloves on, or stare at him nervously, wondering how to approach. It’s frustrating and annoying– how Dream can’t seem to find a middle ground.

It takes unloading to his new deaf friends about Hob; seeking advice for how to temper these unexpected feelings of disappointment and changes in Dream himself… they never used to fight, before Dream lost his hearing. This is unknown territory for the both of them. 

Dream had discovered the community in his city, for deaf people. He’d found a meetup online, after his therapist suggested looking into attending the weekly meetups.

As always, Dream was at first skeptical. His sign language was still spotty at best, and he wasn’t a social guy even when he could hear so. He wasn’t hopeful.

Luckily the deaf community in his city is more than accepting of him, patient when he slips and signs exact English. And when Dream is done airing out his grievances, they encourage patience with Hob. That having a hearing partner is always going to be a struggle, but Hob is clearly coming from a place of compassion and wants to learn. That’s more than can be said for most people. 

Dream feels foolish, all the sudden, for his actions against Hob, looking sideways at Jessamy. She was one of the founders of these d/Deaf meetings, and they clicked immediately. Unlike most of their peers in the group, she too had been born hearing and then lost it due to illness. Her and Dream were a lot alike, though she was older and had been wading through this new world for over two decades. She was fluent in ASL, and didn’t even speak while communicating.

“It’s considered rude to speak here, during these meetups,” she had explained during Dream’s first time with the group. 

Jessamy becomes something like a confidant for Dream. She too has a hearing partner, Matthew. The amount she and Dream have in common is almost frightening. But in time Dream discovers it’s nice… to be seen. To be understood. She helps Dream comprehend the beauty of the silence even more. And that they can still attend hearing events just as before. 

So with her encouragement, a few months down the line, Dream and Hob join her and Matthew at a music festival. Jessamy excitedly points out interpreters several of the bands have on stage, and Dream feels a bit of relief. He can also feel the vibrations all around him from the loud speakers, though it’s not as pronounced as they would be in a venue with wooden floors; the earth beneath their feet grounds the pulsating bass lines to something dull and unrecognizable.

Dream’s not quite fluent enough in ASL to understand every word the interpreters use, especially at the speed they’re going in to keep up with the song, but he gets the gist. And he has to admit it’s… fun, doing this. He hadn’t been to a concert or music festival in almost five years, and spending it with both Hob and his new friends is nice. It’s easy to stay within their safe space and not feel pressured to speak with strangers or awkwardly ignore them; everyone here minds their own business and in time, Dream loosens up.

After finding available, good seats for the next band they’d all agreed on, Hob and Dream set out to the nearest vendor to grab drinks and snacks for the four of them, while Jessamy and Matthew hold down the fort, so to speak.

While standing in line, Hob asks if Dream is enjoying himself. And, surprisingly, Dream is. He says as much with a smile and taking a playful nudge from Hob.

As the line shrinks and they come closer to the counter, Dream’s gaze moves from the short menu taped to the window to the man taking orders. His lips move sluggishly and hesitantly, speaking with an accent that makes it difficult for Dream to parse. But it doesn’t phase him, what everyone wants is on the menu and the transaction should be simple.

Now, Hob could just place the order for him– for all of them, but Dream had been determined, lately, to converse in transactions like this himself. It was good practice not only for Dream, but also whoever was taking his order as well. To learn patience and practice his communication skills. It was a little nerve wracking, but for the most part it was easy. If a cashier or barista or medical professional had trouble exchanging words with Dream, well, that’s what he carried a pen and pocketbook around for.

The person in front of them moves to the pickup counter and Dream sees the man behind the counter call out what must be a, “Next!” but the way his lips move, it looks more like, “Nect!”

Dream swallows and signs as he speaks, to– hopefully– indicate how this would potentially be a one-sided conversation.

“Two orders of fries, one mac and cheese, three shots of Bacardi, one shot of vodka, and a lemonade, please.”

The man barely looks at Dream while he types the order into an iPad. Dream nods, mostly to himself, and looks down as he reaches into his back pocket to grab his wallet.

When he looks back up, the man is in the middle of saying something to him.

Dream’s brows wrinkle.

“Can you repeat that? I can’t hear you.”

After he speaks and signs, Dream offers up his card, assuming the man just told him the total.

But the man visibly sighs and leans forward a bit, his mouth opening widely.

Dream focuses but only manages to make out the words “fries,” “double,” and “which do you want?”

“Um…” Dream licks his bottom lip. “One more time? Slowly, please.”

With a truly agitated face now, the man moves his lips again, but as Dream studies them, hoping to fill in the words he missed, instead new words are added and Dream finds himself stumped.

“Fries, yes. And singles, for the shots,” he guesses.

The man types something into his iPad but looks again at Dream with a growing look of irritation in his gaze. Dream looks behind him and sees a line of customers, before facing the man again, once again catching him in mid speech.

“Hold on,” Dream grumbles, settling the card down and digging through his pocket for the pen and paper. “Clearly I am deaf and raising your voice is not helping–”

Dream nearly jumps as Hob steps up suddenly to the counter, almost getting in front of Dream.

They exchange a few words before finally Hob nods and hands the guy his own card.

Dream stands silent, his pocket notebook in his hand and blinking slowly at Hob, who gives him a sheepish smile over his shoulder before nodding again to the man and taking both their cards back as well as the receipt.

They walk to the pickup counter without exchanging a word, meanwhile something begins to burn the back of Dream’s neck, prickling down his arms and coiling in his stomach.

Dream tugs on Hob’s arm as they settle next to the mobile vendor. 

“What just happened?” He doesn’t speak. Dream can’t find his voice right now.

Hob rubs the back of his neck, his gaze focused on something behind Dream.

“No french fries,” he signs without confidence. “Curly fries only.”

Dream blinks. The uncomfortable feeling in his gut tightening.

“Did you just order for me?”

Hob’s shoulders deflate, nodding.

Dream gapes like a fish for a few seconds, his eyes darting from Hob to the man that just took their order, and back.

“I don’t want curly fries. I hate curly fries. We could have gone to another vendor. You didn’t have to–”

Dream cuts himself off, balling his hands into fists and taking a long breath, closing his eyes, shaking his head.

Hob always did this. 

It took a while for Dream to notice, how if they were together, Hob would finish a conversation for Dream. Would speed an uncomfortable situation along with an interjection or provide unnecessary context with a stranger “He’s deaf, sorry…” without consenting with Dream first. 

When Dream realized Hob was doing this, he would go quiet, unsure whether or not to stop him or correct him in some way. Dream never knew exactly what to say. Did Hob think Dream was incapable of handling tricky conversations himself? Did he think Dream was a hassle?

When Dream opens his eyes Hob’s hands are out, placating, his eyes apologetic.

“Why do you do that?”

Hob blinks. “What?”

Dream’s heart rate is steadily rising, his fingers shaking slightly. 

“Make my decisions for me.”

“I didn’t realize I was,” Hob starts, his own signing gone fumbly. “I thought I was helping.”

“Yes. That’s the problem…” Dream starts, finally speaking again and letting his hands fall to his sides, his brain struggling to interpret correctly.

“What do you mean?” Hob asks.

“You don’t need to rush me out of an uncomfortable situation,” Dream starts again, his hands gesticulating uselessly. “If I’m communicating with someone whom I can’t understand, we can figure it out. They will learn. They need to learn.”

Judging by the way Hob is nervously looking around, Dream’s volume is surely rising. But he finds he doesn’t care.

“I’m not this thing you need to handle with gloves. Let me see a problem through until the end. No matter how long it takes.”

Dream is breathing heavily, he realizes, sucking in a gulp of air.

“Of course not.” Hob finally speaks, forgetting to sign. “I'm sorry.”

Hob’s eyes are welling up with tears and it somehow makes Dream more agitated, more words stumbling from his mouth without his permission.

“Then stop treating me like a burden!”

Dream turns and walks away. 

It’s foolish, and childish. And as Dream stomps away, his own vision becoming blurred with tears, he knows it’s not just this moment that’s made him snap. It’s the culmination of events from the past year of being fully disabled. He hates that he can’t hear. He hates this adjustment period. He wishes he’d been born deaf so at least this hurdle, this life change wouldn’t feel so mountainous. 

Dream wipes his eyes shamefully as his pace picks up to a run, pushing past people blindly. Regret screams in his bones with every step he makes, with every inch he puts between Hob and him. His chest aches with the urge to turn around and apologize, but he shouldn’t have to. He shouldn’t! 

Dream’s shoes clumsily connect with the dirt underneath him, his face becoming hot and, as he rounds the corner of an unoccupied stall, Dream collapses to the ground and allows the tears he’d been fighting back to fall freely, a sob choking in his throat.

He grips his hair as he cries, his face stuck between his knees. The past year flashes before Dream’s eyes, all of the hardships, the doctors’ visits, the fights with Hob. He didn’t deserve Dream. All of his kindness and patience and for what? For Dream to snap on a dime and expect too much out of him all at once? 

Dream groans loudly, agitated at himself for seeing the problem; him, and unsure how to change. He knows he has a right to his feelings, but communicating them was so difficult. He’s becoming impatient with himself, with his slow learning curve, with Hob’s complacency to stay in their safe little bubble and treat Dream like this breakable thing. 

Dream couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but his sobs had stifled down to sniffles, and by the time he felt a hand gently land on his shoulder, Dream was doodling shapes in the dirt.

His head snaps up and finds Jessamy staring back at him, her brows creased in worry.

“Hey…” She’s bent over, her hair falling in her face. “What’s wrong?”

Dream ducks his head, shaking it, officially feeling foolish for running away. The regret he’d felt for leaving Hob starts up again and he suddenly feels so scared. At this rate, Hob would break up with him. Surely he was getting sick of Dream’s dramatics, him lashing out.

“Hob and I never fought…” Dream starts, his hands moving sluggishly. “... when I was hearing.”

Jessamy plops on the ground in front of Dream.

“It’s me,” Dream continues. “I’ve become so… sensitive, since going deaf. I feel like, sometimes, Hob treats me like a child. Like he wants to wrap me in bubble wrap. It’s so infuriating– I’m not some helpless thing that can’t figure things out!”

“No, you’re not…” Jessamy starts, reaching a hand out and giving Dream’s knee a shake. 

“It is OK to feel like this. You’ve only been deaf for a year…” her brows come up encouragingly. “The transition is tough, but it will get easier, in time.”

Dream nods solemnly, tracing lines in the dirt again. Jessamy waves her hand to get his attention once more.

“And you’re not alone, you know.” She smiles gently. “You got me and Matty–” she huffs a laugh at the look Dream gives her. “... and the entire gang to support you.”

Dream knew she meant everyone at their d/Deaf meetups and offered her a small smile. She’s right, of course. Despite how withdrawn and antisocial Dream had been in the beginning, even now still creeping out of his shell, the people he’d surrounded himself with had been nothing but kind and accepting and willing to listen and connect in ways Dream hadn’t thought possible. 

“Hob is still around, too,” Jessamy interrupts his thoughts, her brows lifting knowingly. “That man loves you so much; you should see the way he looks at you– it’s disgusting.”

Dream manages to crack a real, genuine smile at that, especially with the way Jessamy is fluttering her eyelashes and putting on a spot-on impression of Hob’s puppy dog eyes. 

He pulls a hand through his hair and looks down again. Images of Hob’s easy smile flashing behind his eyes, his hands caressing Dream’s skin, his strong arms lifting him in a hug, his sweet lips tracing the lines of his jaw and ear, murmuring sweetness that Dream could no longer hear but feel instead. Could plainly see Hob’s devotion and affection in their everyday lives together, how he would always start the coffee in the mornings so Dream would wake up to the smell of it. How Hob would leave the hallway light on during the day so Dream would come home– late from work– and have something to see by. How he always offered to help with dinner prep, chopping veggies or stirring something, often using the excuse to crowd Dream against the counter and kiss Dream silly.

“That man would pull the moon down for you, I hope you know.”

He would, Dream realizes, swallowing thickly. And he would do the same for Hob.

Dream nods, wringing his fingers out as Jessamy continues on.

“Remember, this is a learning experience for him, too.”

Her painted nails move with perfect fluency, always slowly for Dream to understand. And as one thumb comes down from her forehead to meet the thumb on her other hand, Dream nods again, sniffling and wiping his eyes.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Her lips curl sweetly, gaze flicking sideways suddenly.

She nudges her head. “Speak of the devil…”

Dream looks too, and finds Hob approaching them.

He curses to himself, wiping his eyes with more urgency and catching the almost giggle that Jessamy makes.

“I’ll leave you two alone?”

Dream takes a steadying inhale, pushes his shoulders back, and makes a weak fist and nods it back and forth.

Jessamy stands just as Hob steps up to them, his eyes guarded yet hopeful. She makes a sign of texting before stepping around Hob with a clap to his shoulder.

Hob watches Jessamy leave before meeting Dream’s gaze again, but says nothing. His eyes never leave Dream as he crouches down and takes a seat next to him, leaning back against the wall.

Dream stares back, studying the lines of Hob’s face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, which are shiny and puffy, like he’d been sobbing, too.

“I’m sorry,” Dream whispers, pushing a fist into his chest.

Hob sighs, his shoulders going with it. He speaks as he signs.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Dream shakes his head. “You’re always the one apologizing for my outbursts–”

“But you were right,” Hob interjects, his eyes pleading. “Dream, can I say something?”

Dream’s heart leaps into his throat, swallowing harshly. He nods.

“You need to tell me…” Hob’s gaze shoots up to the sky, as if searching for the words for his hands to convert. “... the first time, when I do something that makes you uncomfortable. So I can remedy it immediately.”

Dream takes a deep breath as Hob continues, his hands moving slowly but surely. 

“Don’t let bad things fester and build. Talk to me.” His hand comes to his mouth in a motion similar to how Dream explained on the couch months ago. “Communicate. If you don’t correct me in the moment, I’m bound to repeat it.”

He takes Dream’s hands, his thumbs tracing circles over the knuckles. 

“I want…” Hob awkwardly makes the simple motions with his hand still clasped with Dream’s, making him bite back a smile. “... to do this right.”

Dream takes another breath that rattles, his eyes prickling at the corners.

Hob’s eyes have gone watery, too, his smile lopsided.

“OK?”

Dream nods. “OK.”

Hob rises up on his knees just as Dream does, falling into each other. Dream squeezes his arms around Hob’s shoulders, tucking his nose into Hob’s hair and breathing in the scent of him, letting it envelop him and calm him.

Hob’s lips brush the skin behind Dream’s ear, pressing a kiss there, before he feels them move.

I love you.

[garciaasfluffypen]

things are changing (and only for the better)

pairing: jemily x adhd!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: dialouge heavy, alcohol use, discussions of ethical non-monagamy/polyamory a/n: please please PLEASE tell me if i get anything about polyamory wrong in this series. i myself am not polyamorous, and i want to do this justice. if i'm doing anything wrong or harmful in my writing please let me know.

it had been weeks since you had a girls night with emily and jj, and you were thanking all the gods out there that you finally got to have one. 

the team had been whisked off on three back to back cases, leaving everyone begging for the weekend off. once it was granted, the first text you got before you even left the office was a message from jj stating “our house, wine, 30 minutes?” with an outstanding “YES PLEASE!!” being sent back within seconds of receiving the text from your favorite blonde. emily and jj had been amazing to you since figuring out about your adhd diagnosis, and knew how deliberating it could be if you weren’t on your medication. the inattentiveness had been your downfall multiple times, but your team knew how to accommodate you and make sure all of your needs were met to ensure you could work at your full capacity. specifically jj and emily. 

being on the medication around the team was very important to you. it was something you had been weary of, keeping them from seeing your adhd funks. it still was something you didn’t want to subject them too just yet. despite being on the team for a few years and being friends with them for longer, you had done a good job at keeping the full nature of your funks away from the team and frankly… you wanted to keep it that way. the only person who had seen you in your funk so far was hotch, but that was because you had fallen asleep at the office on a thursday night and didn’t get the chance to pick up your meds on the way home from work. and besides, you didn’t want to hear it from them, about how stupid you were for not taking your medication when you relied on it to keep your brain from shutting down. it had happened before, you forgot your meds at your apartment and had a date that ultimately ended up in you staying at your exes place. when you woke up the next morning and realized, they were upset when they realized you would be in one of your funks and practically shoved you out the door. 

you’d hate yourself if you lost emily and jj like that. 

you shook yourself out of your thoughts and grabbed the fruit platter you had picked up from sam’s club on the way to the house, heading over to the side door that you knew led straight to the kitchen. emily and jj were quietly talking to themselves by the counter, sending a wave of worry through you. they couldn’t be talking about you, right? they invited you over, they wanted you here, they--

“y/n!” jj’s eyes lit up as she saw you, coming over and pulling you in for a hug. “i was starting to think you didn’t want to come.”

“i wanted to get the fruit platter you guys like.” you sheepishly replied, a red hue covering your cheeks. “i felt bad coming empty handed.” 

“you know you don’t have to bring us anything, lovey.” 

your heart jolted as emily called you lovey, the nickname naturally falling out of her lips. lovey… you liked that.  

“i know, but i wanted to.” you shrugged. “it's the least i can do for all you’ve done with me the past couple weeks.” 

“you having proper accommodations is important, y/n. we want you to be comfortable.” 

you smiled at the brunette. “it means a lot to me, really, and i never really properly thanked you for being so attentive to everything.” 

jj came to squeeze your hand. “you don’t need to thank us. just being here is more than enough.” 

the blush found it's way back to your cheeks as you looked down, barely registering the look emily and jj shared before you felt a finger under your chin, lifting it to make you look into emily’s eyes. that was something new, something she had never done with you before. 

and you… liked it? 

“what were you feeling for dinner?”

“i’m not super picky,” you paused. “on nights like these i typically do something easy like mac and cheese or ramen or something but we don’t have to do that if you guys want something else.” 

emily chuckled, a loving glint in her eye. “if you want mac and cheese, we can get mac and cheese.” 

“i don’t want to make you guys special order me mac and cheese, you really don’t--”

“y/n.” jj locked eyes with you. “it’s on us tonight, promise. go put on your cozy clothes and get comfortable, yeah? we’ll get dinner set.” 

“i don’t want to be a bother…” 

“you’re never a bother, not to us.” jj paused. “is your rejection dysphoria acting up again?” 

“a little bit.” 

“do you want to talk about it?”

“can i get a glass of wine in my system before we talk about it?”

“of course. now go get cozy, i’m ready to curl up on the couch and shit talk all the stupid people we’ve run into over the past few weeks.” 

jj watched you as you chuckled and sauntered off to the main room before quickly turning around and running to grab your go bag before heading back in. emily came up and wrapped her arms around jj from behind, placing her head on the blonde’s shoulder. 

“y’know, this could be the last moments of us without y/n in our lives.”

“emily!” jj swatted at her arm. “don’t you dare say that.” 

“i’m just saying!” emily shot jj a joking look. “considering how they reacted to the finger under the chin, i doubt that will be an issue we’ll need to worry about, though.” 

“i hope so.” jj turned so she was facing emily. “i really like them, i like them a lot. and i want them to know that i can love both of you equally.” 

“and we’ll explain it to them if they decide they want to be our girlfriend, yeah?” emily squeezed jj’s hands. “we’ll take it one step at a time.” 

“do you think they like us?” 

“i would sure hope so, or else they wouldn’t be here.” emily looked to jj. “do you think they don’t like us?”

“it’s hard to tell with them, i’ll be honest. i’m just nervous they’re going to say no and everything is going to be messed up. i don’t even know if we fully explained the polyamory thing to them.” 

“i don’t think we did either, now that i’m thinking about it.” emily bit her lip. “okay so we start with that then.” 

“we start with that.”

emily and jj found a restaurant with something all three of you would want before ordering, making sure it would be there in a timely manner before heading out into the living room. emily went to change into her comfy clothes first, leaving her in a pair of yale sweatpants and an old shirt of jj’s that neither of them knew the origins of. returning with the wine she had been itching to pull out all week, emily plopped herself down on the couch and handed you a glass, smiling at you fondly as you took it while you bounced a mile a minute, talking about something you had seen on tik tok on the jet earlier. jj changed into the flannel pants she had stolen from emily eons ago, a pale blue oversized t shirt sitting on her small frame. jj came and sat on the other side of you, the way the three of you typically sat during girls nights, both women giving you all the attention you could desire while on one of your tangents. 

something was off, though. you could feel the vibe shift about an hour and a half into the night, your meals all discarded on the coffee table while you and emily nursed another glass of wine. jj had opted for her favorite beer at that point, the bottle opener sitting next to an empty styrofoam container with the discards of jj’s meal. your energy slowly faded as the dread started to set in, the rejection sensitive dysphoria feelings coming in full swing. you felt yourself start to get into a daze, fingers playing with the hem of your tee as you stared off into space. it took emily a minute to realize what was happening before she placed a supportive arm around you and pulled you close, placing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“what’s up, y/n?”

“the vibe is off.” you said, quieter than you had been the rest of the night. “something’s wrong.” 

“well, we did want to tell you something.” jj started. “it’s not bad. nothing bad is happening right now, but we were holding off on telling you in case you didn’t…” she paused. “how do i say this without sounding like an asshole?”

“we’re scared that you’ll see us differently after we tell you what we want to talk to you about.” 

“okay…” you looked between them, noticing genuine concern. “i’m gonna need more wine, aren’t i?” 

emily chuckled, the smile you know and love crossing her features. “well, that depends on how you take what we’re about to tell you.”

“i don’t need to be scared, right?” 

“not at all.” jj squeezed your hand, coming closer to you on the couch and leaning into your other side. “unless you see like a ghost or something. then you can be scared.” 

you chuckled. “i doubt there’s going to be a ghost in your house, jayje.” 

“you never know!” jj smiled slightly, glad that you weren’t too deep into the feeling of despair and could joke with her. “all kidding aside, are you in a mental state to have this conversation or do you want to sober up a little bit?” 

“no no, i’m okay.” you nodded. “as long as i don’t stand up. that’s when it’s all going to go to my head.” 

“understandable.” emily rested her cheek against the top of your head. “remember how you saw me talking to tara about that girl i saw who i wanted to get to know?”

“um.. i think so. the one from the coffee shop?”

“exactly.” emily paused. “it didn’t work out, unfortunately, but that was partially because we hadn’t even began talking about this.” 

“so, as you know, we've been exploring the idea of… seeing other people.”  jj piped in, pausing to pick her next words carefully. “but we never fully explained to you what we meant by that.”

“we’ve been exploring polyamory.” it was emily’s turn to pause, gauging your reaction. “the two of us, sharing another partner.”

“cool.” you smiled, relieved it wasn’t something horrible. ”have you found anyone yet?” 

you could have sworn you saw both emily and jj visibly relax. 

“well, thats the thing. we’re not sure if they realized they were being flirted with… or that we’re interested in them that way.” 

you popped a grape in your mouth. “tell me everything, how does this work? wait! tell me about them!” 

emily smiled. “well, they’re easily one of our favorite people ever.” 

“have you known them long?” 

“about five years, give or take. em, when did we meet them?” 

“god, what was it… christmas of twenty nineteen, right?” 

interesting. you met the team in twenty nineteen after penelope dragged you to a girls night just after thanksgiving. what a coincidence. 

“they’ve been friends with us for a while. we’ve only recently started flirting with them about six months ago.” 

jj smiled fondly. “although like em said, we can’t tell if they’ve realized we’re flirting with them yet.”

“so they’re a bit aloof. that’s charming.” you smiled at them. “i’m so glad you guys found someone, i fully thought you guys were flirting with me these past few months.” 

there was an awkward pause. 

“wait… why are you… am i the someone?” 

emily cleared her throat, grabbing for her glass of wine. oh. 

oh.

“i am the someone.” 

“we like you, y/n.” jj grabbed your hand. “more than a friend. and i know that sounds weird, and you can say no- we’re not pressuring you to do anything or make any decisions tonight.” 

“i…” you paused. “how did you… are you guys okay? like, relationship wise?”

“we’re more than okay, i promise.” emily squeezed your other hand. 

“we’ve been talking about it, just the two of us, for a few months.” jj licked her lips. “the only other person who knows is tara, she’s gotten us in touch with a great support group that has everything we need to know about getting started.” 

“both of us realized we wanted something more, but didn’t want to end things at all.” emily explained. “we figured out that both of us had too much love to share with just one person, we wanted to share it with someone else.” 

“so… wait, can i ask questions?” 

“of course, babe.” 

“how would this work? the three of us?” you paused. “you’re… married.” 

“we know it won’t be easy, since you’ll never be able to officially legally be with both of us unless some magical law goes into effect that changes the world's view on polyamory. but, it would be like any normal relationship, but you would get both myself and jj. there would be boundaries and rules, and we would talk about those only if you want to give us a shot.” 

“we would want you to be as happy and relaxed and comfortable as you can be. everything is open to be talked about, especially when it comes to your comfort levels. and like we said, you can tell us to shut up whenever you want and we would.”

“and if i were to ask to kiss emily?” 

“then i would say yes, do it.”

“and the same goes for jj?”

“i would want you to do what makes you the happiest.” jj kicked emily’s shin. “i mean, i’d say yes.” 

“sorry i’m… i’m trying to wrap my brain around this. it’s being slow. you guys like me?” 

emily chuckled. “yes, lovey. a lot.” 

“more than you know.” jj nudged your shoulder lightly. “is that okay? that we both like you?”

“you know i’m queer, of course it's okay.” 

“but are you okay with that?” 

“why wouldn’t i be?” you looked between emily and jj. “have you gotten turned down before?”

“not in this aspect, no.” emily answered. “but yes, i have been turned down plenty of times.” 

“and i dated men in my past.” jj chuckled. “do with that information what you will.”

“yeah… men are stupid.” you chuckled. “okay so, hold on. i’d be dating both of you then?” 

“only if you want to.” 

“we’re not pressuring you at all. you can take some time to think about it-”

“- no no, it sounds really nice. dating both of you.” you smiled. “i just never thought…” 

“y/n, no matter what you think, you are loveable.” jj turned your face to look you in the eye. “you are loveable and you deserve the world.” 

“and we want to give you the world.” 

“we’d give you the universe, if we could.” 

“so what do you need from me?”

“your word.”

jj looked at you, a stern look overtaking her features. gods, did the room just get warmer?

“you tell us yes or no, and we go from there. we don’t want you to-”

“the answer is yes.” you stumbled over your words, jj’s look affecting you more than you thought. “i’d love to be your girlfriend.” 

both emily and jj let out a sigh of relief, bringing you in for a hug. it was real, it was happening. they didn’t read the situation wrong and you liked them back. you liked them back, and you said yes. 

“in that case, as our girlfriend, what do you want to do?” 

“can i kiss you?”

“of course you can.” 

you turned to jj. “and then can i kiss you?”

“please.” 

“then it's settled. i give you some smoochies, we binge ice cream and watch silly reality tv.” you smiled, nodding once. “the perfect night in.” 

emily and jj chuckled at your happiness, bringing you in as close as they could muster. you turned to emily first, placing a small peck on her lips to test the water before cupping her cheek, smiling into the kiss. you then turned to jj, who simply smiled widely at you before meeting you in the middle for the kiss. while it was an interesting scenario, you found yourself feeling comfortable. you were in the arms of two of the most important people in your life, and things were going to change. 

but they were changing for the better.

[thatdisasterauthor]

I am so fucking exhausted right now. I really felt like I was starting to get my feet under me over the summer, and now I'm back to barely keeping my head above water, and I'm just so done with this bullshit.

I start my full time dispatcher job in maybe Marchish, but the permanent pay fix didn't go through so we've got another year or two of regular pay plus a retention bonus, then my pay might get slashed by 30-50% because I highly doubt the incoming administration is going to be any more favorable to wildland firefighting than the current one.

And I don't even know how the hell I'm going to make it to Marchish without dipping into my top surgery fund because $164/week in unemployment is a fucking joke. I would've been better off if they'd just never taken the damn unemployment taxes out of my paycheck in the first fucking place.

And top surgery! My original date for it passed the other day and it hit me like a fucking truck. I've been so damn uncomfortable ever since and I just want to rip the damn things off. But I have no fucking clue how I'm going to afford it now.

And then there's my books. If the tariffs get passed my main method of publishing, the one that brings me the most income, is down the drain because there's no way I can afford to work with my printer in China if there's a fucking 100% tariff, and there literally aren't ANY printers in the US that offer all the features I need. (And if they claim they do, they're usually just a middle man for working with a Chinese company anyway.) I can still publish in other ways, but it won't get me as much money.

And having a literary agent has honestly been a bit of a clusterfuck for various reasons I'm not going to get into, so any sort of traditional deal is seemingly more and more off the table.

And I gave my dad an ultimatum after the election that I was deeply dissapointed in the fact that he voted for Trump AGAIN, and that if he wasn't willing to work on his racism and other issues I needed to take a step back from having a relationship with him. He never replied and hasn't talked to me since. Haven't spoken to my mother in years. Which just leaves me and my little sister, so I've really got no support network to speak of.

And then there's applying to a PhD, which I want to do so, so badly, but I just can't fathom how I could do that and afford it. The program I'm aiming for is paid, but not even close to enough to support the cost of living where it is, let alone the cost of moving over there.

And I think I need to finally pursue a formal ADHD diagnosis so I can get meds, but I can't do that until I start my new job and get health insurance. And, honestly, I'm really wary of getting a formal diagnosis anyway with the incoming administration. It just feels like something I don't know if I want on paper with all the crap they're trying to pull. But I cannot keep rawdogging this shit without meds.

And you know what? I'm fucking tired of being single. I'm tired of fighting this shit alone. But as an ace, autistic, queer person in a very conservative area (and the fact I can't afford to go out and DO anything) meeting someone is pretty out of the cards, given I have no interest in long distance relationships.

Just.

Ugh. So fucking tired.

I'll make it through, I always do, but man, I am tired of it constantly being a battle.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being upset that my boyfriend of 3 years doesn't remember our anniversary even though i know he has adhd? ☕️☕️

I (26 W) have been dating my partner (32 M) for over 3 years now. He is officially diagnosed with ADHD and I am currently waiting for my own diagnosis for ADHD. He got diagnosed shortly before we got together and he has opened to me about how insecure he is over his disabilities causing a rift between us since all his previous relationships end with his partners leaving after they "get tired of dealing with his issues" because he also has autism and has been rude before in regards to my weight despite knowing that i am recovered from an eating disorder and this is the context in which his insecurities were disclosed to me. I also don't mean rude like accidentally, he literally put his hands on my stomach and said "what is this" after we had already had several Big Fights in regards to his previously rude behavior. For further context, I told him on our second date that I have a strict boundary around food and my weight and would appreciate it if he kept comments about my body weight or how much i eat to himself because it's triggering for me.

I try to be mindful of his limitations but recently, he asked me if he had forgotten our anniversary. This wouldn't bother me as much if it wasn't our third anniversary coming up in a couple of weeks and if I hadn't repeatedly told me over our time together the exact date of our anniversary. Now, I don't expect him to remember dates off the top of his head. I struggle with that information myself but what I DO hold against him is the fact that he KNOWS he forgets things and doesnt make ANY effort to have a failsafe against that. I put everything in my phone and he WORKS in tech so he knows how easy it is to set a repeat event with reminders nowadays so I don't understand why he can't just fucking figure out how to remember our anniversary without constantly making me be the one to remind him. I have told him exactly this and asked him why he didn't write it down over the last 3 years if he knows he's bad with dates. he said "that's a good point" and that was that. Now, he keeps trying to manipulate the information out of me by asking me when I'm like half asleep because he "thought i might slip up and just tell him."

Am I in the wrong for being mad over this? it feels like he doesn't care enough to do the bare minimum of being in a relationship with another person. I've dated others before with ADHD and it's never been a fucking issue before for them to remember our anniversary. I myself put in the effort when I care about someone to do the bare minimum and write down information I want to remember about someone. I just don't understand why I feel so guilty over getting mad about this when I feel like I have every right to be upset because it's not like I haven't been forthcoming before, it's not like i haven't repeatedly told him over the years and he puts in birthdays to his calendar so like why doesn't he care enough to put our anniversary into it? He wants to marry me but I dont want to spend the rest of my life reminding him to care enough about me to remember things like my birthday, our anniversary or my eating disorder.

But I also know that expecting people with ADHD to remember things is kind of an ableist move and I don't want to start an argument where I'm being a dick to his disabilities. So WIBTA if I decided to make this into a big deal because it is for me knowing my partner has ADHD and cannot help being so forgetful all the time?

What are these acronyms?

[natashaslesbian]

We Saved Each Other (Part Seven)

Summary: Your mom starts to notice some differences in your behaviour and she’s not the only one. With the help of Maria and Clint they figure out the next steps

Word Count: 1.9k

Parings: (Natasha x Daughter!Reader) (Natasha x Clint) (Natasha x Maria)

Warnings: Crying, panic attacks, talks of autism symptoms/diagnosis (written from personal experience with my own autism)

————

A week ago, you and Natasha moved into Clint’s barn. It had been recently refurbished so it was the perfect place for you and your mom to take residency in. There was a cozy fireplace in the living room and the windows held a beautiful view of the wide fields. Although you were excited to have your new mommy and be living next door to your uncle, auntie and cousins, you were having a hard time settling in. Natasha was starting to notice some differences in your behaviour, the way you reacted to light and sounds and the subtle ways you were a little different to Lila. The young Barton was the only example Nat had of a normal upbringing for a child and in the months you’ve been with her it was obvious you weren’t developing in the same way. Natasha just thought it was your red room upbringing, they didn’t exactly care about the well being of their widows.

The interruption to your routine once again had Natasha’s suspicions on high alert. You were seeming to thrive at the tower but this big change was taking its toll on you. It was yet another restless night for you both, you were again taking residence in your mamas bedroom. “Come on sweetheart, just close those pretty eyes and I’m sure you’ll be asleep before you know it” Natasha whispered “I don’t like the sheets mommy” you whined. Your mom had brought seven different sets of bedsheets by now, both for your bed and her own, but you seemed to hate them all. “I know baby, I promise I’ll go and get our old ones in the morning” Natasha said as she gently stroked your head. You were desperate for your old bedsheets, they were so soft and comfy, they felt like heaven. You continued to fidget a little longer until the exhaustion finally caught up with you and you finally fell asleep.

Breakfast was the next mountain to climb, there had been no time to grocery shop so the cupboards were filled with little to nothing from the Barton’s pantry. Every morning you had coco pops, but since moving in all there had been were cornflakes and you hated them. They went soggy in the milk and got stuck all around your teeth. Natasha has tried to offer you other alternates including pop tarts but all you wanted were your coco pops. “You won’t grow big and strong if you don’t eat your breakfast y/n” Natasha cooed in the hopes today would be the day you would actually eat the cornflakes (or anything else for that matter). “I don’t like it” you mumbled as your eyes became watery “oh sweetheart don’t cry” Natasha said as she came to your side “how about mommy takes a trip to the store after I pick up our sheets okay?” She suggested “yes please” you said.

You begged Natasha to take you with her to the tower, you couldn’t bare to leave her side. Your mom explained that there was work being done and it would most likely be very busy but still, you refused to let go of her as she tried to pass you into Clint’s waiting arms. “I think I’m just gonna have to take her with me” Nat sighed as she adjusted you on her hip. “You need a ride?” Clint asked “yeah that’d be great actually” Natasha smiled, grateful for the extra pair of hands. You fell asleep during the journey, giving your mom a few minuets to finally get a little rest of her own. “Somethings wrong Clint I can feel it” the redhead muttered as she looked down at your sleeping form. “Is she sick?” Clint politely asked, “no, no something else is wrong” Nat sighed “it’s something else, I just don’t know what”

As soon as Natasha stepped foot in the tower you bolted awake as the sound of drills invaded your head. You cried loudly into your mamas neck and wrapped your hands tightly around your ears. “Shhh sweetheart it’s okay it’s just some construction work remember” Nat cooed in an attempt to calm you down. “Let’s get up to your room” Clint suggested, leading you both quickly to the elevator. You calmed slightly when the doors finally shut, opening your eyes to blink up at your mama. “See you’re okay baby” she whispered. When the three of you arrived at your desired floor, it was apparent that the work being done wasn’t just confined to the lobby. You shrieked at the sudden appearance of hundreds of workers, all of them men and racing past you in every direction.

You squirmed out of Natasha’s hold and crashed to the floor in a panic. “It’s alright y/n, come on let’s go get our things” Nat said as she crouched down to lift you back up. “No!” You yelled as hands attempted to pick you up off the floor. You found your feet and they took you running through the forest of tall legs around you. “Y/n!” Natasha called after you, the fear of loosing you setting in quickly. She began to run after you, swiftly followed by Clint. The two bumped into every worker as they tried to keep their eyes on you but soon enough you were out of eyes reach. “Y/n!” Natasha called again, throwing a builder to the floor as he crossed her path. She came to an abrupt stop as the crowd around her dispersed and she was met with the many hallways leading to different parts of the tower.

Clint came crashing into Nats side and managed to stop them both from hitting the floor. “Natasha take a deep breath” he said as she met the widows eyes “she can’t have gone far we’ll find her” he assured. “Clin- Clint” Natasha stammered “I can’t- breath- Clint” she mumbled as she tried to take a breath. “Natasha, hey, look at me, you need to breath for me, like this ok” Clint said as he began to take deep breaths encouraging Nat to do the same. The red head didn’t know what was happening to her, sure she’d had many panic attacks and breakdowns before but they had never been this bad. By now, Clint had learned how to best help his friend when these moments arose, he led Natasha a few feet down one of the several hallways where it was slightly quieter.

Nat pressed her back against the wall and gently slid down to the floor. “Natasha” Clint said as he crouched done next to the redhead “deep breaths okay, in and out, you’ve done it before you can do it again” he calmly spoke. Natasha was just starting to regain control of her breath when Maria came running down the hall “Romanoff” she called, the widow immediately turning off her emotions when the agent appeared “it’s y/n she’s in your guys room” Maria said, out of breath from her small jog. Natasha didn’t waste a second as she stood to her feet and sprinted wildly down the corridor. She almost crashed into the door but managed to stop herself before she could burst in and scare you even more. “I’ll be here” Clint said from a few doors down, giving Natasha the space to comfort you.

“Y/n baby” Natasha quietly called as she slowly pushed open the door “are you in here?” You peaked your head out from under the covers when you heard your mothers voice. Her eyes landed on yours and she softly walked over to the bed “what happened sweetheart, did you get scared?” Natasha asked, you nodded your little head as you reached out to your mom “too loud mommy” you whimpered. Natasha didn’t hesitate for a moment as she came to scoop you up into her arms “oh baby I’m sorry, I should’ve known it might upset you.” She cooed as she wrapped you up in her embrace. You let our soft whimpers as your mama gently rocked you, the motion slowly lulling you to sleep. “You have a nap baby girl, I’ll get us home okay” Natasha whispered.

A soft knock on the door brought Nat back to reality “come in” she quietly said. “How is she?” Clint asked as he peered around the door “asleep, the noise scared her I think” Natasha said. “Can I talk to you? Can we talk to you?” Clint said, pushing the door wider to reveal Maria stood beside him. “What’s wrong?” Natasha said in a fearful tone “nothings wrong I promise, it’s just, well we wanted to talk to you about y/n. About maybe getting her tested for a learning disability” Clint said. “What” Natasha said, gritting her teeth. She gently placed you down between the sheets and ushered the two agents outside. “What the hell are you talking about?” She said frustratedly. “Well” Clint began “this morning in the car when you were saying that you thought something was wrong with her” he said “I didn’t say something was wrong with her” Natasha cut him off “she’s not stupid” she bit at the pair. “No ones saying she is” Maria said “she might just have some different needs” she finished.

“Are you calling my daughter special needs Hill?” Natasha questioned angrily. “Natasha calm down we’re just trying to help, we’re concerned and I know you are too” Clint said. “I guess she is different I just- figured it was because of the red room” Natasha said sadly “but it’s not is it” she sighed. There was a moments pause before Maria spoke up again. “I noticed a few things when we were at the store a few weeks ago, when she got lost. And Clint said he’s noticed some stuff to” she said. Clint cleared his throat “she obviously doesn’t like loud noises and crowds are defiantly an issue for her” he said “there’s other things as well like her delayed speech and her reaction to light. I’m worried it might be autism” he finished. “Autism” Natasha questioned. She had heard of it before but remained unsure of what it actually looked like, if any girls at the red room where found to have any kind of disability they were executed.

“So what do we do?” Nat asked, all she wanted to do was keep you safe so although the circumstances made her nervous she knew she would do whatever it takes to help you. “We can get a shield professional to asses her” Maria said “they’ll look at her behaviour over a period of time and then make a diagnosis” Natasha let out a nervous sigh “okay” she whispered. “Whatever happens we’ll be here for her, and you” Clint said. “Will they take her away from me?” Natasha asked, keeping her tears at bay. “No of course not” Maria said “Natasha it’s not your fault” she continued when she realised the root of Nat’s worry. “Hey look at me” Clint said “nothing will ever change the fact that she’s your daughter. This will just allow us to help her.” He said. “Okay” the redhead sighed “I’ll set everything up” Maria smiled, excusing herself to get back to work. “Why don’t I take you both home” Clint said.

The journey back felt longer than usual. You stayed soundly asleep in your mamas lap as she gazed down at you with love. Natasha was battling with the thousand thoughts racing through her head. Would people look at you different if you had a learning disability and how would you cope with another issue on top of the mountain of ones you already had. The widow pulled you closer into her chest as you began to squirm “shhhhh you’re okay, mamas here baby” she cooed. “Mommy” you whispered “bad dream” you whimpered. “I’m sorry sweetie. Mommy’s here okay. I’ll always protect you” Natasha said as she gently kissed your forehead. She meant every word, she would always and forever look out for you.

————

Finally the next part of WSEO is here! Sorry it’s been so long🩷

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut t / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

[drferox]

My MS Diagnosis

So I’m approaching the 2 year mark since my Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis and I thought I’d better document how I got here, because being the patient is a weird experience, especially for a condition that had kind of vague symptoms that needed a fair amount of work up.

My symptoms actually started in early 2020, when I was in the third trimester of pregnancy. The main symptom was mistaken for carpal tunnel syndrome - numbness in my fingers that would progress to increasingly violent pins & needles sensations, that would progress to burning if I tried to push through it. Only this sensation would extend all the way up to my shoulders at times. I stopped performing surgery, because not only was I unsatisfied with my lack of sensation to know what I was doing with my tissue handling, but the pain would get worse quickly in constrictive surgical gloves in the presence of patient warming. So I stopped performing surgery in late pregnancy and was told it would get better a few months after giving birth.

It did not.

So six months after giving birth, finding myself able to use my hands for short periods but still unable to perform surgery to my standard, I went back to complain to the doctor. I also couldn’t play video games properly, my arms would often be numb when I woke up, all the way up to my shoulder, and they were super temperature sensitive. Even hot water from washing dishes would set them off.

They sent me down a carpal tunnel work up - ultrasounds and talking to a neurologist. The short version is they did tell me I had mild carpal tunnel… on one side only.

Which did not make any damn sense considering I had symptoms on both sides all the way up to my shoulder.

The worst neurologist in the world could not explain to me why a mild problem on one wrist was affecting sensation all the way up to the opposite shoulder, and just said ‘it happens sometimes’. Now, I like to think I have a solid understanding of the basics of how a body works, and was really unsatisfied with this answer. They recommended I talk to a surgeon, since I’d already been doing a bunch of physiotherapy, but I decided not to. Surgery could have put my hand in a cast for up to 6 weeks, I had a 6 month old baby to care for at home and a partner who was useless at best, and abusive at worst. I could not afford the time in a cast.

So I went to try something else, visiting an osteopath to see what they could do about my ‘mild’ carpal tunnel, and while I’m there, these headaches I’ve been getting.

She spent a good long while stretching out different muscle groups, and found that certain neck muscle stretches changed the sensations I was getting in my fingertips. So whatever was causing the hand problem was coming from somewhere in the neck, and she recommended I get a CT scan.

Went back to my doctor to get a referral for a CT scan, and explained what was going on. He thought about it for a minute, didn’t voice his concerns, and upgraded it to a neck MRI.

That MRI found a demyelinating lesion in my neck. So went back for a full Central Nervous System scan and found a couple more borderline ones.

That sent me back to a (different) neurologist, had a proper neurological exam that found a few random patches of altered skin sensation in addition to the arm weirdness I had going on. So I was probably a MS case, but not particularly severe as MS goes.

To confirm it I needed a lumbar puncture to look for oligoclonal bands in by CSF. The lumbar puncture was a moderately unpleasant experience which then mandated that I remain lying down for 24 hours so that my spinal fluid didn’t spring a leak. With a baby and a distinctly unhelpful partner, I barely made it to that 24 hours.

And then… I sprung a CSF leak. Which is a jolly weird experience I can tell you.

When your CSF leaks from a lumbar puncture you will feel perfectly fine… when you are lying flat on your back, because your spine flops over the hole and plugs the leak. If you’re upright at all the spine flops away from the hole and it slowly leaks out, and you get more of this weird frontal headache that gets worse the longer you’re upright, standing there talking to the ER admissions nurse. And the info I had explained that it can progress to seizures and similar the worse it gets, but I only got as far as pain and fuzzy vision. I seriously could only be upright for ten minutes without pain, and had to lie down to resolve it.

That required some medicine-that-looks-like-magic to fix, called a blood patch. Doctors took some of my blood, fresh out of the vein, and inserted it into my spine approximately where the leak should be, so that the clot would cover the leaky patch. Self blood magic. It worked brilliantly, about an hour later.

The CSF tap ordeal confirmed the presence of the oligoclonal bands, and then I got stunted into the public health system, in a department specifically geared towards managing Multiple Sclerosis patients. They debated for a little while, at a multidisciplinary meeting, whether I was really MS or a Clinically Isolated Syndrome (which is like Multiple Sclerosis but without the ‘Multiple’ part), but settled on MS. Yes, Tumblr, I was nearly diagnosed with CIS.

The shoe thing took about a year from when I actively complained to doctors, or about 18 months from the first probable symptoms. That’s approximate because some things that were thought to be pregnancy symptoms could have been due to MS, like fatigue and leg weakness. I’m pretty lucky that I’m comfortable in hospitals and with medical procedures, am reasonably medically literate. I think the magic phrase that got things to happen quickly was ‘these symptoms are greatly affecting my ability to do my job’.

I don’t think my MS has progressed since starting the medication (and I’ll talk about the medication in another post). I’ve acquired one additional brain lesion since diagnosis, but I have no clue what physical symptom it’s associated with.

While some symptoms are better, I still cannot perform surgery to the standard or with the endurance that I used to,so I basically don’t any more. I can do about ten minutes, which is enough to bail a new graduate vet out of trouble, but not enough to take over completely for them. I’ve had a few years to think about it but I don’t know what the MS is going to do to my career, only that I can still practice for now.

It’s not great, but it could be a whole lot worse, and that’s how I got here.

[swissboyhisch]

New York Luck

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Reader

Summary: After a lovely holiday, your partner breaks up with you and so you turn to your only friend in the city.

Word Count: 1055

A/N: I'm not super happy with this. I feel like it's rushed but I want to put it out anyway.

<< PREVIOUS

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Why is it that every time you come to New York, something bad happens. The last time you had gotten your shitty diagnosis. This time your current boyfriend and yourself had decided to go on a holiday to Hawaii for a week and of course, an hour after landing back in New York he decided to break your heart.

Something about not being ready for a relationship. Apparently. And here you were ready to tell him I love you on your holiday but held back because he was a little distant at night. That’s why you’re now standing in a Walmart; wearing a pair of sunglasses trying to find food.

Sadly you can’t even go home. In three days you have to have another surgery. A different one to the last time you were in New York. Now you’re stuck in the city, alone and crying your eyes out. Dealing with health issues and a break up. What a great combo. And to make things worse, you can’t even drink away your emotions!

Aisle by aisle, you grab chocolate, some cupcakes, cheese and crackers, a bit of everything. Oh and a bottle of coke, can’t forget it. That’s when you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You turned to where the voice came from. 

“Mat?”

One of the few people you knew in the city. Mat wasn’t a stranger to you. Quite the opposite actually. The pair of you grew up together then reconnected later on once he had been drafted. After a couple hook ups since the reunion, you two were close when you did meet up.

“Are you okay?” Mat questions, spying your reddened cheeks just under your glasses. 

“I uh… Yeah,” You tried to brush it off. Discreetly wiping the stray tears that dripped down your cheeks. “Just some personal stuff.”

The hockey player wasn’t buying it. He had known you long enough to see through your lies. Even if they were really bad like the one you just told. “Okay, what’s up? I know that’s a lie. You were literally just in Hawaii.”

“Stalking my insta?” You joke weakly.

“Gotta see what my favourite girl is up to.”

That made your heart hurt more. Here Mat was calling you that where as your ex could barely call you his girlfriend in front of his friends. God, you thought your relationship was great. Fuck. How could you be so blind. 

“Yeah we got back this morning and then he broke up with me an hour after we landed.”

Mat immediately brought you in for a hug. “Shit. He’s an asshole for that.”

“Doesn’t help I have surgery friday,” You add, sniffling.

“Another one?” Mat sighs. “He’s a coward for breaking up with you before that. It’s a dick move.”

You shrug off the comment. “I’d rather him do it now then drag it out. Now I can just focus on myself. Gonna get snacks and have a night in my hotel. Maybe get ice cream from the place next door.”

“Can I join?” Mat asked. 

“Are you sure?”

Matt agreed and the two of you finished grabbing snacks for the night and finished Mat’s shopping. He brought groceries for his apartment so the two created a plan. First, drop off Mat’s groceries to his apartment. Then head to your hotel to have a chill night. 

You two arrived back at your hotel, which was quite a fancy one since you and your partner had planned to stay there together. First, before retreating to your bedroom, you stopped by the ice cream place and got way too much. Enough that Mat’s nutritionist would cry at the thought of the hockey player consuming all that sugar. 

“This is nice.” The two of you walked into the nice hotel room. A modern style hotel room on the 9th floor. A king sized bed in the middle with the bathroom off to the left as you walked in. There was even a window with a blind in the shower. “Have you stayed here before?”

“Yeah, my ex worked nearby so I’d stay when I’d come to visit him,” You respond.

Mat grabbed the bag of snacks and put that on the counter, wrapped you in a hug and dragged you onto the bed. The smell of his cologne filled your senses. Despite your old hook up ways with Mat, the familiar scent still gave you butterflies.

“I wanna have a shower and get into my pyjamas,” You sighed, pulling away from Mat. You grabbed some clothes and went to go to the bathroom when a sulking sound came from the boy laying on your bed. When you looked at him, he was pulling the puppy's eyes. “What? Do you wanna join?”

“Please?” You giggled and agreed, leaving him to join you when he wished. “Thank youuuu!”

The bathroom was really modern. A large mirror in front of the sink and a huge shower with a rainfall head. Your favourite type of shower. After turning on the water to your preferred temperature, you stripped and got into the shower. The water felt calming as you stood under the stream. 

“Heya,” Mat mutters as he slips into the shower. 

You leaned into the hockey player as he wrapped his arms around you. This wasn’t the first time you had showered with him. But let’s just say usually, a simple shower wasn’t just that. 

“Are you okay?” Mat asks as you’re unusually quiet around him. That question just makes you break. A flood of emotions coming through. Mat was quick to pull you closer, tight against his naked body as you started to sob. “He’s an idiot.”

“What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing. I promise you it’s him. He’s the worst person for doing this to you. He’s the problem.”

Once you had calmed down and the two of you had finished washing, you changed into your pyjamas and cuddled up on bed with a ton of snacks surrounding the pair of you. Mat had signed into his Disney. You allowed him to pick what the two of you would watch for the night. When you saw the intro it solidified the hidden feeling for him. It was your favourite show.

“Thanks for this,” You mutter to Mat.

The brunette kissed the top of your head. “Always.”

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

[esclizku]

The morning after

🏷️ Sick-fic, Sick x Caretaker, Fluff, Vanilla, Domestic, Established Relationship, semi-SFW

Call of Duty, Soap x Ghost short One-Shot Fan-fiction Word Count: 704

if you like this kinda stuff, go check out my ao3, wink wink divider by firefly-graphics

The morning after was always something he was looking forward to. Ghost was sweet all the time of course, there’s no doubt about that. But something about whenever they were passionate flipped a switch in Ghost, which Soap loved. The cold rough hands begged for the touch of his warm skin, tracing the soft patterns of the barely visible abs. Those dull, matte eyes made more contact with his ice-cold blue ones, and fuck. The way he treated him.

The mixer whirred to life, the ingredients inside flinging around the glass frame. Soap was a little bit winded from last night, his back ached, his legs trembling, but most of all, he wasn’t feeling like doing anything. The exhaustion that came from this age hit him all at once. He didn’t expect them to get to him at this age, especially since the military kept him active. Yet, despite being around 2 years apart, Ghost always woke up a little bit more energetic after sex, and that was evident even now.

Soap hissed when he felt his lover sneak up behind him, shoving the cold hands from winter into his warm jumper, cupping his abdomen. “You fuckin’ ass…-“ Was the sentence that got a warm chuckle out of the Brit, and he rested his stubble beard onto the veiny neck, muttering. “Why are you up this early?”

“Stomach’s growling since six in the morning.”

“You should’ve woken me up, Johnny.”

“So you can be hungry with me as well?”

“So I could make sure you’re okay.”

“Are you playing caretaker again, Simon?”

Soap looked over at Ghost with a warm gaze despite the cold blue in his eyes, one that was almost taunting. The Brit blinked softly, the wrinkles under his eyes becoming more prominent as he huffed a laugh out of his nose, almost scoff-like one, and muttered.

“You know me too good.” He grumbled, his hands warm at this point as he slid them out, turning off the blender. “Get back into bed.”

This is what he meant when he said a switch in Ghost flipped. When Ghost was bringing him the smoothie he had started along with an ice pack to his bed, where he laid somewhat sleepy. The way Ghost sat next to him, lifting the shirt and placing the ice pack onto his skin softly, onto the deep purple and red bruising Ghost’s teeth created, making Soap mutter swears and curses at him. And then the questions, Are you aching? Or Do you need something else?, it made Soap scoff almost when he insisted on making breakfast.

He cupped Ghost’s cheek, redirecting his gaze up into his eyes. “Darling, your sex is good, but it’s not ‘causing paralysis in both my legs’ good,” With a soft tone, he tilted his head. “Now stop worrying, or else your wee little head will fall off.”

Ghost was barely convinced, looking down at his body again. “You’ve been complaining about your back and legs a lot recently, I’m just looking out for you… If I made it worse…-“ He sounded a little worried, his eyes scanning him for any aches, like it was something that could be seen by the bare eye. “Bloody hell..”

Soap knew where this behavior was coming from, to be honest. Ghost, now that he’s older (well, if 38 even counts as old), has had his fair share of medical scares. First seeing the damage of his smoking, Second the diagnosis of his sleep disorder, and not to mention his scoliosis… It all mixed into making Ghost a healthier person, yes, but now he was also very aware of Soap’s health. Every ache could be a problem, every crack and every trip is treated with utmost care, and Soap didn’t mind it that much to be honest.

Just when he was worrying like this did it bother him.

Ghost opened to say something else, probably related to Soaps previously mentioned sleepiness, or how he was dizzy  a week prior, or something else entirely. Soap had no shame interrupting him with a kiss though, the chapped lips hitting Ghost’s delicate ones.

“Shut up,” Soap whispered into the kiss, their lips still soft and gently touching. “come lay with me.”

[ereardon]

Bob Floyd masterlist

*All of my fics are 18+. Please do not repost my work without consent or steal my work. Reblogs and comments give me life so please do interact if you'd like!

✤: Fluff

❂: Angst

❀: Smut

Series

❀❂✤ Friends Don't — Bob x OC [Reid Coleman] – Complete

Bob has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly volunteered to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late?

❀❂✤ Golden Hour — Bob x Bradley x OC [Dr. Olive James]

Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

❀❂✤ The Back Seater and the Baker — Bob x OC [Haley Nichols]

Bob hasn't seen Haley Nichols since he was fifteen. But when Haley shows up out of the blue with one sentence that throws Bob for a loop – "I'm turning thirty in two weeks, are we still on?" – all of the feelings from their childhood return. Bob never thought that Haley would remember the marriage pact the two made when they were just kids, even if he never forgot. So what happens when Bob falls all over again for his childhood crush? And what will Bob do when he discovers the real reason she came back to capitalize on the pact is to secure her inheritance and save her bakery from bankruptcy? Will he believe Haley when she confesses that she loves him, too?

❀❂✤ At Sea — Bob x Reader

I’ll be home in five weeks. That’s what naval aviator Y/N told her fiance before leaving for deployment in the Atlantic. But time ceased to stop when she met Bob Floyd, the ship surgeon. Shy and honest, Bob quietly slipped into Y/N’s life, creating a complicated dynamic on an already intense mission. Falling for Bob was not in Y/N’s plan, and as she continues to weave a web of lies, she must make a choice: return to the life she left on land, or forge ahead into the unknown with Bob. But before Y/N can decide, disaster strikes, leaving Bob to make the decision that will alter their lives forever. 

One shots

✤ One Night — Bob x Reader – Complete

You have your eyes on Bob at the Hard Deck, but have to shoot down Jake Seresin first.

✤ Gas Station Tears — Bob x Reader – Complete

After your boyfriend dumps you, your car stalls out in a gas station parking lot. Luckily, Bob Floyd happens to be there to fix your car. Can he fix your heart, too?

❂✤ It Was Never Him — Bob x Reader – Complete

You catch your boyfriend Rooster making out with a girl at the Hard Deck and only one person can comfort you in the aftermath: Bob Floyd. 

❂ What Are You Thinking? — Bob x Reader – Complete

Bob Floyd is a quiet man. Sometimes you have to ask him what he’s thinking just to know what wheels are turning inside of his head. He always gives you a response, until one day, years into your marriage, he turns the question on you. 

❀ When I'm Done With You — Bob x Reader – Complete

At a fraternity mixer, you lose your (admittedly shitty) boyfriend in the crowd. That’s when Bob Floyd, president of Alpha Tau and your boyfriend’s personal nemesis, finds you and decides to make you his. 

❀ She Calls Him Daddy – Bob x Reader – Complete

Coming home from college for winter break, the last thing you expected was to run into your best friend’s father while out shopping for new lingerie to surprise your fuck buddy with. You had always tried to hide your attraction for Mr. Floyd because he was Anna’s father. But all rules are thrown out when Bob invites you over on Christmas Eve while Anna is at her mother’s house. You’ll never be able to look at your friend’s dad the same way ever again.

✤ More Than Enough — Bob x Reader – Complete

The first two times Bob Floyd ends up in your emergency room he’s a mess. You never expected him to return a third time. But when he does, it changes everything.

[stagkingswife]

Around the holidays I had the unique joy of meeting up with @windvexer in person while they were visiting my beloved New York City.  Over sushi, dessert, and then just hanging out in their hotel lobby we had a wide ranging conversation about our practices, UPGs, etc.  The conversation eventually drifted to comparing our spirit lead initiations.  Chicken’s story is theirs to share, or not, as they choose. But I’ve been thinking a lot since that conversation about my own initiation and how it parallels another important story in my life. 

When I was 15 I was a dancer and I was good, like competing at a national level.  I was cast as Odette in my ballet school’s adaptation of Swan Lake.  I practiced, and rehearsed, and trained all year long for the role. Then a month before recital weekend my family and I went on a weekend trip to Gettysburg. I also love history, and my dad and I had just read a book about the battle of Gettysburg together, so we clambered all over the battlefield.  I tore a calf muscle doing this.  I saw my usual doctor for injuries and wore a cast for three weeks, walked through rehearsals, took it easy.  Once the cast was off a week before the recital I ramped up slowly, warmed up more than usual, stretched carefully, everything.  But come recital weekend I danced my heart out and left everything on the stage.  3 weeks later I was diagnosed with CRPS in the leg I had injured. What does any of this have to do with my initiation?  Everything, just bare with me. 

My childhood mentor had been initiated by the spirits of her tradition, and she had spoken to me about the effect this had had on her.  I had written an academic paper on initiatory spiritual traditions and the phenomena of initiation sickness.  I knew, long before Oisin ever broached the topic with me, that a spirit lead initiation could wreck your life, that it would be trying in ways that were specifically designed to change you on a fundamental to suit the spirit's needs, and that undertaking one would have consequences I couldn’t even begin to image.  I also knew that dancing Swan Lake one week out of a cast could have disastrous results for my dance career.  But I loved the music and choreography.  I loved how I felt while I was dancing.  So I danced.  I was already in love with Oisin when he presented me with this trial. I loved learning from him, and working with him, and if there was something hard, even something impossible, that he needed me to do so that I could keep learning and working with him - it was no question. 

I had no way of knowing when I was teenager waiting in the wings in my white leotard and feathered wig that I was about to dance my last ballet.  That in less than a year I would start using a cane, or that I would one day swap the cane for a wheelchair, or any of the changes and accommodations that I’ve had to make in my life for my disability.  I only knew the love. When I said yes to Oisin I couldn’t have predicted how much it would break me when he killed my soul, dismembered it, and scattered the innumerable shreds across the Otherworlds.  I could have imagined the amazing and terrifying things I saw and experienced on my journey to find those fragments and assemble myself - or what it was like to live without a complete soul in the meantime. And nothing could have prepared me for the permanent changes the whole process had wrought on my life: on my physical health, my mental health, the very fact that my spiritual oaths and promises must always come first for me.  I only knew the love. 

17 years after my diagnosis, and 13 after my initiation started, I look back at the choices that led to both and would make them both again, even knowing the consequences.  These two choices, more than almost anything else in my life, have shaped who I am as an adult and I like that person.  These choices came from the right place, both times.  Not from ambition, greed, guilt, or fear, but love.  And I can’t ever regret what I did for love.

[theoceantot]

Chapter 9

Since the moment Y/n was born she was already rejected by thr world. She had two loving parents that worked good paying jobs and spoiled her to death. That was until the diagnosis. When Y/n was two she all of a sudden wouldn't respond to her name whenever her parents were talking to her, started biting them, and had tantrums when things were too loud.

Worried about her daughter they took her to a doctor where they figured out she was on thre autism spectrum. Both her parents were disappointed and started treating her differently since then. There was no more warm hugs and "I love yous" just angry glances and quick snotty responses. School was no different. The bullying was awful and the teacher did nothing about it. By the time she was 11, Y/n would start to act younger to cope with not having a childhood. Sometimes voluntary others involuntarily. She didn't know why she did this until she was in the library reading a psychology book and the term "age regression" was mentioned.

Since then you'd steal some adult pacifiers, coloring books, and stuffed animals to hide in your room. This helped with your school and home life becasue you finally had a way to cope with the abuse. Then the night the demon attacked and ripped your mother and father to shreds. You sat in the corner of your room holding your stuffy close while you cried.

Muzan heard you and slammed the door open. He's never seen any of his victims act like this. He was intrigued. Not intrigued enough to let you go though. He kneeled down to you and you started hitting your head against the wall. Muzan chuckled and stuck his finger in your stomach releasing his blood into you. He left as you screamed in pain. You would have died if a spirit with hanafuda earrings didn't help. He held you in his lap as he petted your hair.

You were confused becasue you couldn't physically feel him but spiritually you could. You haven't seen him since but every night you wished he'd come back. Instead of seeing your savior again you've been getting night terrors that would result in panic attacks. Shinobu knew the other girls needed sleep so she asked the other hashira if she could stay with them for a week to try and solve your night terrors.

To her shock and disbelief Sanemi said you two could stay with him. When she asked why he just said.

"Its my way of apologizing"

That was enough for her so she took you two to Sanemis estate. She knocked on the door until Sanemi opened the door. Shinobu was wearing her usual attire while you were wearing the demon slayer uniform with a matching harori. Mitsuri had it custom made for you saying how it would be so cute for you two to match.

'Fuck she's cute' Sanemi thought.

"Salami!"

'Nevermind..'

Y/n quickly embraced Sanemi in a hug. She was so much shorter than him so the embrace was barely at his waist. Shinobu had to cover her laugh with her hand while Sanemi glared at his fellow hashira. Eventually, Y/n let go and went to explore the house leaving the two colleagues to chat.

"Are you sure about this? I can't promise you're going to get a good night's rest"

"I figures as much. Let me take care of her while you rest. Your eye bags say it all"

Shinobu twitched her eye. How rude! But he was right. She was exhausted and needed sleep if she was gonna keep caring for her baby.

"Are you sure about this? If you need me don't be afraid to wake me up"

"I've got this just get your ass to bed"

Shinobu nodded and headed off to a guest bedroom. Now that left you. Sanemi knew he was way over his head but he needed to earn Shinobus forgiveness. He grumbled and walked around trying to look for the regressor. After some time Sanemi found her sitting in the shade outside looking up at the butterflies. Her eyes seemed like she was thinking about something sad.

"Why am I such a freak" Y/n whispered and then cried into her teddy

Sanemi wasn't sure how to comfort you. You'd probably freak out if he touched her so he tried a different approach instead. He quickly went to the kitchen and made some ohagi. As he finished up he turned around to see your purple tear stained eyes clutching your stuffie. Sanemi awkwardly handed her some ohahi which she took with her hand and shoved in her mouth quickly eating.

"Nummy!"

Y/n eyes glowed brightly when suddenly a pair of purple butterfly wings appeared on her back. Sanemi just stood there mouth open trying to process what he was seeing.

A little that could fly...

A lot of trouble

"No fucking way.."

"Fuck?"

Oh god, now he was really fucked

"Brat, you can't say that?"

Y/n cocked her head to the side in confusion not understanding what she did wrong. All she said was a word that uncle Sanemi said. How was that bad?

“It’s a bad word that you’re not aloud to say just leave it at that”

Y/n nodded her hand and kept eating the ohagi. After eating the five more that were on the tray Sanemi offered to take her on a walk around his estate which you happily agreed to. On the condition that he carried you which led to a long sigh but did it regardless. After 10 minutes he felt a small bite in his shoulder. Sanemi then remembered that this is how the little one showed affection and admiration to the people she loved.

“I’ll let it slide just this once”

Y/n giggled and hugged his neck. Sanemi stopped walking and froze. When his little siblings were still alive they’d cling onto his neck when their father would beat his mother. He’d hold them close and tell them everything would be okay and that’d he’d protect them.

Y/n thought something was wrong so she put her hand on his cheek and was about to cry. Sanemi snapped out of it when he heard her sniffles.

“I’m okay brat calm down” Sanemi softly said and started to bounce her on his hip. This caused Y/n to start laughing and start swinging her legs. Sanemi smiled at this since nobody was around to see him. Not only that but Sanemi was actually happy. It was like being with his little siblings all over again.

“Wanna fly kid!”

“Yaa”

Sanemi threw Y/n high in the air and then catches her. The third time Sanemi throws the baby in the air butterfly wings come out of her back and she starts flying.

“Kid come down” Sanemi orders

Y/n tries too but she keeps going further higher and higher in the air. At this point she’s freaking out and crying. Sanemi uses one of his wind breathing techniques to launch himself in the air so he can grab her and return her safely to the ground.

Y/n was shaking in his hold trying hard not to cry but some tears managed to escape.

“It’s okay kid you’re safe” Sanemi softly said and rocked her back and forth. Right now you just wanted Shinobu. Of course you loved Sanemi but he wasn’t your caretaker.

“Mama!”

‘She has been sleeping for awhile now hopefully she’s well rested now because I don’t know how to deal with this’

Sanemi carried you back into his estate being shocked to see Shinobu sitting on the couch.

“Oh my poor baby! What’s wrong?” Shinobu worryingly asked.

Y/n reached her arms out to her and Sanemi sat you next to Shinobu.

“We were playing and when I threw her in the air those damn wings came out”

“What wings?” Shinobu asked curiously

“The brat has butterfly wings and can fly on top of having all those damn insects around. Pretty annoying if you ask me”

Shinobu was secretly dreading you now having wings. Flying around her estate crashing into things and knocking stuff over. She prayed to the gods none of that would happen. Sanemi continued to chat with Shinobu about things mostly about missions and how her poison was developed while you were falling asleep with a small smile on your face.