#just feeling the disability extra hard lately

[lovelaceisntdead]

ah. sad.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[moonsandmobilityaids]

To Walk In

Pairings: Remus Lupin x disabled!reader (Part of my poly!marauders x disabled!reader universe) Summary: Remus learns something about you that you'd hoped none of the boys would ever learn. And then, he proves it doesn't change anything. Warnings: Catheter usage, smut (separate from the catheter usage, oral - fem receiving, p-in-v sex, sex toy) Series Masterlist

The castle of Hogwarts is silent save for the hushed whispers of portraits dozing in their frames and the distant cooing of owls perched high in the towers. In your private bathroom, however, there's a different kind of quiet—one that hums with the tension of a struggle unspoken.

You stare at the sterile plastic package in your hand, its contents as familiar to you as the wand resting on your bedside table. You've dropped one already tonight, your fingers clumsy with frustration, the catheter slipping from your grip to land uselessly on the tiled floor.

Physical discomfort gnaws at your lower abdomen, a constant presence that’s grown more insistent over the past hour. Your bladder is full, too full, and despite your attempts to ignore it, the pressure has become impossible to dismiss. The ache beneath your skin makes every small movement feel monumental, a battle waged within the confines of your own flesh.

"Come on," you mutter to yourself, trying to steady your trembling hands. "Just... just focus."

The soft creak of your bedroom door reaches you, a sound so faint it could easily be mistaken for the castle settling into its midnight slumber. But you know better. Your heart lurches in your chest as you freeze, one hand still clutching the catheter.

Shuffling footsteps—a hesitant dance across the stone floor—betray the intruder's identity before his scent does. It's Remus, carrying the lingering traces of parchment and old books that cling to him like an extra layer of skin. He'd meant to sneak in unnoticed, hoping to find you already asleep so he could slide beneath the covers without disturbing you, succumbing to the warmth of one of those late-night cuddles he craves but seldom initiates.

Even though you can't see him from where you sit, hunched over in the bathroom, you can feel his presence seeping through the cracked door, filling the room with a silent reassurance. You want to smile at the thought of him waiting there for you, body pressed against the cool sheets, eyes heavy with sleep. But smiling is a luxury you cannot afford right now, not when every ounce of concentration needs to go towards this task at hand.

Your muscles tense as you listen intently, praying that he'll stay put—that he won't venture further than the edge of your bed. The last thing you need is for Remus—or any of the boys—to walk in on this. Not now. Not ever.

This isn't something they're supposed to see. This isn't something anyone should see.

You draw in a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. The catheter remains unused in your grasp, a tangible symbol of the vulnerability you've fought so hard to keep hidden. They may know about your medical conditions, but this—they don't know about this. And you've worked tirelessly to keep it that way.

Being disabled is one thing; it comes with its own set of challenges and perceptions to navigate. But this—this is different. This is intimate. This is personal. This is the unspoken reality of what it means to live in a body that doesn’t function as it should, a truth that feels too raw to expose, even within the safety of these ancient walls.

"Love?" Remus's voice drifts toward you, a low rumble barely discernible over the static hum of your thoughts. He stands on the other side of this barrier—this seemingly insignificant piece of wood that for now, is all that shields you from his worried gaze.

"Are you... alright in there?" he calls out again, concern lacing each syllable. The floorboards creak under his weight as he moves closer to the door, leaning against it perhaps, or merely bracing himself for whatever may come next.

"I'm fine," you reply, forcing a lightness into your tone that feels foreign and hollow even to your own ears. "Just... give me a few more minutes."

Your words are meant to reassure, to create an illusion of normalcy within these four walls. But despite your best efforts, they emerge strained, laced with an undercurrent of desperation that mirrors the silent war raging inside you.

The silence that follows drapes over you like a heavy cloak, thick and suffocating. You close your eyes as a wave of self-loathing washes over you. Look at what you've become, whispers a cruel voice in the back of your mind. Weak. Helpless. Pathetic.

The door handle jiggles slightly before you hear the soft knock against the wood. "Love?" Remus says again, his tone softer now, threaded with uncertainty. The pause that follows feels as though the world itself holds its breath, waiting for your response.

"Remus, I said I'm fine—" But even as the words leave your lips, you know they hold no weight. Your plea sounds feeble, drowned by the deafening thunderclap of your heartbeat.

"I know, but I..." His sentence trails off into silence, leaving only the unspoken implication hanging in the air—thick and potent, a testament to the bond shared between you.

Without another word, the door creaks open slowly, revealing Remus standing in the dimly lit hallway, his face drawn with worry. He steps inside, his gaze immediately landing on the catheter still clutched tightly in your hand.

"Merlin, love..." His voice catches, eyes widening as he takes in the sight before him—the sterile packaging strewn across the sink counter, the way your fingers tremble around the catheter, your body curled protectively over itself.

He doesn't move at first, just stands there frozen, shock pinning him in place while his mind races to make sense of what he's seeing. Then, as if propelled by an unseen force, he crosses the room until he's standing at your side, his presence a grounding anchor amidst the tempest of emotions swirling within you.

"You shouldn't have seen this," you whisper, the confession slipping past your lips before you can stop it. Shame burns hot beneath your skin, stinging worse than any wound could. This was meant to be your secret, your hidden struggle, yet here it lies exposed under the harsh fluorescent light.

Your body tenses, every muscle coiling tight with a primal urge to hide—to conceal the evidence of your struggle and retreat back into the safety of shadows where vulnerability cannot reach. But it's too late for that now; the truth is out, laid bare under Remus' watchful gaze.

You don't need to look at him to know what he's thinking—how could you not? The image of you, broken and struggling, must be etched deep within his mind by now. And though you tell yourself it doesn't matter—that his opinion of you holds no power over your worth—a part of you can't help but fear the judgment that might follow.

Will he see you differently now, tainted by this newfound knowledge of your weakness? Will he turn away in disgust, repulsed by the reality of your condition? The thought settles heavy in your chest, a stone dropped into still waters sending ripples across the surface of your hard-won peace.

"Love," he murmurs, the sound barely more than a breath as he tentatively reaches out to touch your arm. His fingers graze your skin lightly, not so much an action of comfort but one of connection—a silent promise that you are not alone.

His gaze meets yours then, those familiar grey eyes holding nothing but genuine worry for you. There's no trace of disgust or pity in them, just a deep-rooted empathy that comes from knowing pain all too well. It’s a look that speaks volumes about who Remus truly is—compassionate, loyal, steadfast—even when confronted with realities that others might shy away from.

"I'm here," he says softly, reaffirming that unspoken vow between you both. As if understanding the gravity of this moment, he doesn't ask why or how, nor does he demand answers. Instead, he merely holds your gaze, offering silent reassurances through the simple act of being there.

Wordlessly, Remus' hand moves from your arm to take the catheter, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. The contact sends a spark of surprise coursing down your spine, but you don’t pull away. Somehow, his presence brings a sense of calm amidst the storm, and despite everything, you find yourself trusting him in this vulnerable state as he begins to help you.

It's a slow process—one filled with cautious movements and hushed whispers—but under Remus' careful guidance, you manage to use the catheter without further incident. All the while, he remains focused, his expression unreadable save for the slight furrow of concentration etched into his brow as he navigates each step with meticulous attention.

There's something almost soothing about the way he handles things, his motions precise yet gentle, his voice low and reassuring. And though the situation itself feels like a nightmare come to life, Remus' unwavering composure anchors you, grounding you back to reality.

When it's finally over, you're left sitting there, feeling drained and exposed. But alongside these emotions is a subtle shift in atmosphere—the air no longer thick with apprehension but laced with a newfound sense of understanding.

As you lean back against the cool tiles, exhaustion seeping into your bones, you expect to be overwhelmed by embarrassment—to want to hide away from Remus and the world outside. But instead, what washes over you is an odd sensation of relief.

“Let's get you back to bed," Remus suggests, his voice a steady beacon guiding you out of the storm. You nod, your movements stiff and mechanical as you transfer to the wheelchair and follow him out of the bathroom.

Your body is stiff and unyielding as you slide into bed, nerves coiled tight beneath your skin. This isn't how it was supposed to be—him seeing you like this, at your most vulnerable, stripped bare of any pretense of strength or independence. But here he is, tucking the blankets around your legs, adjusting the pillows behind your back until you're propped up just right.

The silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating, filling every corner of the room with its palpable weight. Your heart hammers against your ribs, each beat echoing the question that's been gnawing at your mind since the bathroom door swung open: Will things change now?

But then something shifts—a rustle of fabric, a slight dip in the mattress—and before you can register what's happening, Remus is sliding in beside you. His body curves around yours, a solid presence against your side that both surprises and reassures you all at once.

"Relax," he whispers close to your ear, one arm winding carefully around your waist while the other cradles your head, fingertips brushing lightly against the nape of your neck. It’s an intimate gesture, one that should feel out of place given the circumstances, but instead it feels... right.

You want to pull away, to put distance between you and the man who now knows too much. Yet your body betrays you, leaning into the warmth he provides, craving the comfort found within the circle of his arms. There's a sense of safety there, a haven amidst the chaos, and despite everything, you find yourself succumbing to its allure.

"I'm sorry," you begin to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want you to see me like this—so..."

"Shush," he interrupts gently, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as if to wipe away the apology before it fully forms. "There's nothing to apologise for."

"But I should be able to do this on my own." The words tumble out, raw and jagged around the edges. "I’ve been doing it on my own, it’s just a bad night."

His eyes hold yours, steady and unflinching. "Love," he begins, hesitating slightly as he searches for the right words. "This doesn't change how we feel about you. Not me, not Sirius, not James."

A soft kiss is placed at the corner of your mouth, slow and deliberate. It’s followed by another that lingers longer, Remus' lips pressing against yours with an assurance that leaves no room for doubt.

"We're here because we care about you," he continues when he pulls back, each word punctuated by a gentle squeeze around your waist. "Because we want to be, not because we have to be."

For a moment, you let yourself believe him—let yourself bask in the warmth of his acceptance. But then reality seeps back in, casting long shadows across the corners of your mind. You can't ignore the truth of your situation.

"Look at me," he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. And despite the storm raging within, you obey, lifting your gaze to meet his once more. His hand comes up to cradle your face, fingers brushing lightly over the curve of your cheekbone. "I love you so much, and so do the others. I don’t care about that.”

His lips find yours again, and he kisses you with a tenderness that belies the strength of his resolve. His mouth moves against yours slowly, deliberately, as if each contact is meant to reassure you of his presence, his willingness to stand by your side.

Remus' hands roam gently over your body, mapping out territories familiar yet uncharted in this context. They move with purpose, not to ignite desire but to stoke the fires of comfort, trust, understanding. Each touch is a soft plea for you to let him in, to allow him to share in your pain even when words fail.

His fingers skim along the curve of your waist, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to trace patterns on your skin—a language only the two of you understand. There's no urgency in his movements, only the steady rhythm of someone who knows how to wait, who understands the value of patience amidst chaos.

"Let me help you," he whispers against your neck, his breath warm and comforting. "You don't have to face this alone."

His kiss deepens, a silent vow etched into the space between your mouths. His body is firm against yours, protective yet yielding to every breath and tremor that courses through you. The tension woven tight around your frame begins to loosen under his touch, unravelling with each brush of his lips against yours.

"Better?" he murmurs, drawing back just enough for his breath to ghost over your skin. You nod, words failing as warmth radiates from the point of contact, pushing back the chill of dread. He's close—so close you can feel the heat of him, a beacon cutting through the fog of your troubled thoughts.

His breath skims your neck, fingers tracing a path down your arm, grounding you in the here and now. You yearn to lose yourself in him, in this moment where nothing else matters but the rise and fall of your chests, the shared space between heartbeats.

"I love you," Remus murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. Each word is a promise, a vow that wraps around you like a warm blanket. His lips brush against your jaw, then trail down your neck, tracing the line where your pulse beats a steady rhythm.

Each touch sends a jolt through you, as if an electric current is passing between your bodies. It's intense, almost too much to bear, but it's also soothing. A reminder that you're not alone in this, that there are people who choose to remain by your side rather than leave you to face the darkness on your own.

As Remus repeats those three words, something inside you shifts. You want to believe him—to let yourself be swayed by the certainty in his voice, even if it's only for a fleeting moment. But the fear of letting go, of allowing someone else in after everything that's happened, claws at the edges of your resolve.

The intensity of Remus' kisses amplifies, his hands tracing a path from your waist to the curve of your breasts. His fingers knead through the fabric of your shirt, evoking a gasp as they find your nipples, already taut with anticipation. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more of this sweet torture.

His lips trace the line of your collarbone, each kiss leaving a damp imprint that cools against your heated skin. You shiver, not from cold but from the raw desire coursing through your veins at his every touch, his every breath against your skin.

Your heart races as he moves lower, his mouth closing over the peak of your breast, sucking hard even through the barrier of your shirt. A moan escapes your lips, half surprise, half pleasure, as your back arches off the bed.

With a growl, Remus tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it to bare your breasts to his hungry gaze. He groans low in his throat, a sound that vibrates against your skin, sending another wave of tingles down your spine. The cool air of the room caresses your exposed flesh, making your nipples tighten further under his stare.

You feel a flush of self-consciousness creep over you, a stark contrast to the heat still smouldering in your belly. Your hands move instinctively to shield yourself, a silent plea for modesty that seems so out of place in this moment of shared desire. You remember the shame of earlier, the humiliation that lingers like a shadow on your soul, and you can't shake off the feeling of unworthiness.

"Look at me," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as if sharing a secret only meant for you. His hands come to rest on your own, fingers intertwining and guiding them away from the fabric barrier you've created. "You've never hidden yourself before, don't start now."

His words are an appeal, a plea that tugs at something deep within you. You find yourself surrendering to his gentle insistence, your hands falling away as your chest heaves with anticipation.

The whisper of fabric against skin sends a shiver down your spine as Remus carefully slides your shirt up, exposing your stomach to the cool air of the room. His fingertips trace a path along the bare flesh, warmth radiating in their wake and sparking a fire that threatens to consume you whole.

Your back arches off the mattress, a gasp escaping your lips as his touch grazes over your already-sensitive nipples. The contact is fleeting, yet it's enough to make your heart pound in your chest like a war drum, echoing the rhythm coursing through your veins.

His mouth replaces his fingers, and you can't help the soft moan that rises from deep within as his tongue flicks over your skin with unspoken promises of pleasure. Remus devotes himself to your body, shifting his attention to your other breast, leaving no inch untouched. He nestles into the valley of your cleavage, planting kisses there that spark trails of desire down your spine.

Every stroke of his tongue, every press of his lips against your skin is a silent confession, a testament to the hunger that has been slowly awakening between you. The warmth of his breath against your flesh sends shivers down your spine, each one a delicious prelude to the symphony of sensation he's coaxing from your body. You arch into him, lost in the sensations that are building, threatening to consume you whole.

The heat washes over you in waves, each moan drawn from your lips a testament to the skill of his mouth as it teases and tastes. His tongue swirls around your nipple, drawing it into a peak before moving to its twin with equal fervour. His fingers trace a path downward, and your groans grow deeper, more primal, when they brush against the waistband of your knickers.

"Remus," you gasp, a plea and a protest tangled together. "You shouldn't... not after..."

The reality of what he saw feels too raw, too present to ignore. But Remus pauses, breath warm against the skin just below your breast, and you feel the press of his teeth—gentle, reassuring.

"You saw me..." you begin again, voice shaking. "You don't want me like this..."

"Shhh." His voice is soft, a gentle command that stills your protests. He lifts his head, eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that steals your breath. "I always want you."

Your protests die on your lips as Remus's hand descends once more, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin just above the waistband. Your body tenses, anticipation mingling with fear. But then his lips are there, pressing a soft kiss to your abdomen, and the tenderness of it unravels you.

"Let me see you," he murmurs against your skin, and you find yourself nodding, surrendering to his quiet command.

With a final glance to ensure your consent, Remus begins to undress you. Your hips lift off the bed as he eases your panties down your legs, leaving you bare before him. The cool air of the room kisses your exposed skin, but it's nothing compared to the heat of his gaze.

"You are... exquisite," he murmurs, a note of wonder threading through his voice. Remus begins to press softly against your clit, each gentle rub sending tremors radiating from your core.

The way he touches you is like poetry, a rhythm all its own that makes every nerve in your body sing. His other hand slides under you, lifting your hips slightly for better access. There's no rush in his movements; instead, he seems content to explore you at his leisure, becoming more familiar with the canvas of your body than even you are yourself.

His thumb continues its slow circles around your clit, and you can't help the moans that escape you. They're soft at first, but as his touch persists, they grow louder, more insistent and your body arches into his touch, craving more. The fire within you builds, stoked by his skilled fingers.

The kiss of Remus’s lips against your clit sends a shockwave through you. His thumb is replaced by the plush pressure of his mouth, a sensation that steals away whatever shards of reality still cling to your consciousness.

"Remus," you gasp, fingers digging into the sheets as if they might anchor you to the world. But there's no grounding force strong enough to keep you from being swept up in the storm that's brewing inside you.

His tongue delves deeper, exploring the folds of your body with a tenderness that belies the primal hunger beneath. Each slow drag of his tongue sends a new wave of pleasure coursing through you, every nerve thrumming with an intensity that threatens to consume you whole. 

"Gods, you're incredible," he rumbles, the vibration against your sensitive skin sending a fresh wave of excitement through you. His words are muffled by his own desire to continue unravelling your secrets with his tongue.

His attention becomes more focused now, his tongue swirling around your clit in slow, deliberate motions that make your toes curl and your breath hitch. Every flick, every teasing lap at your sensitive bud, builds towards something monumental, a crescendo growing louder with each passing second.

His hands shift, spreading you open further, granting him better access to your depths. With a reverent sigh, he descends once more, exploring you as though he's been granted the greatest privilege. His tongue delves deep, tasting, savouring, drawing forth a moan from your lips as you feel yourself clench around the invading presence.

Remus' tongue dips lower, swirling around your entrance before pushing inside. You buck against him, the sensation too much and not enough all at once. His hand reaches up to press against your clit, his thumb rubbing in slow circles as his tongue continues its sweet torture.

"Remus," you moan, "more... please."

His tongue responds by delving deeper, licking and sucking while his fingers play with your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. A low groan escapes your lips, your body arching off the bed as pleasure courses through your veins.

He moves his mouth back up, tongue lapping at your clit before sucking it into his mouth. The sudden shift in focus has you gasping, your hands clawing at the sheets beneath you. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he releases your clit with a soft pop, only to dive back down. Your hips grind against his face, seeking more contact, more pleasure. Remus obliges, his mouth and fingers relentless.

"Ah... yes," you gasp, your breath hitching in your throat as he continues his assault.

He pulls away momentarily, leaving you panting and desperate for more. But before you can recover, his fingers replace what his mouth has abandoned. Two digits push into you, stretching you in a way that draws a whimper from your lips. He pumps them slowly at first, then quickens the pace, each thrust hitting a spot deep within you that leaves you writhing.

"I love watching you squirm beneath me," he growls, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers up your spine. His eyes are dark with desire, taking in every twitch and moan that escapes you. There's a predatory gleam in them, knowing that you're at his mercy.

With a flick of his wand, the suction toy is summoned from its drawer. It arrives instantly, and he sets it to a low, teasing hum. He places it against your clit, pressing softly as he continues to kiss along your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat, caught between the pressure of the toy and the heat of his lips.

Your hands clutch at the sheets, every nerve ending alight with anticipation. The vibrations grow stronger, more insistent, matching the rhythm of your quickening pulse. You move your hips in time, but Remus is in no hurry. He takes his time, ensuring every touch is calculated to leave you gasping for more.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through you. His satisfaction is evident in the way he savours each sound you make, how his fingers never falter in their exploration. The toy hums, a continuous pulse that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

Your legs tremble, knees falling open even wider as Remus pushes his fingers deeper inside you. They curl slightly, the pads brushing against that spot that has your breath hitching in your throat. His teeth graze the sensitive skin of your thigh, just barely, and goosebumps erupt across your body.

"Fuck," you gasp, your hand reaching for the mess of brown hair between your legs. Your fingers thread through the soft strands, tugging slightly as a silent plea for more.

He hums against you, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure up your spine. "You like that?"

You can feel the warm buzz of the toy pressed hard against your clit, the intensity causing your breath to come in short, uneven bursts. The combination of his fingers and the toy is too much, and you can't help but cry out, back arching off the bed.

"Yes, Remus... don't stop."

His movements become more confident at your encouragement, fingers moving in a steady rhythm, always hitting that perfect spot inside you. The pressure builds, a knot of pleasure tightening in your belly, and you know you won't be able to hold back much longer.

The toy against your clit pulses more, stronger this time. The intensity of the vibrations escalates abruptly, pushing you closer to the brink with a desperate urgency. Between the relentless pressure of Remus’ fingers inside you and the insistent suction on your clit, you’re coming undone, your body writhing and bucking beneath his firm hold.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful like this," he growls, voice rough with desire. His gaze never leaves yours, drinking in every twitch of pleasure that crosses your face. Each shudder sends another jolt through him, your mewls of need only fuelling the fire within.

Remus shifts, leaning down to capture your lips again, even as he withdraws his fingers from your core. Your mouth opens readily for him, tongues tangling. His taste is intoxicating—a heady blend of lust and something uniquely Remus—that threatens to consume you whole. A soft whimper escapes into the kiss, your hips canting upwards in search of friction.

The suction toy is insatiable, pulsating against you in a rhythm designed to bring you to the brink. Every pulse sends shockwaves through your body, each one stronger than the last, leaving you gasping for breath and bucking against the bed.

"Relax," Remus whispers, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks. "Just let it happen."

You try to follow his instructions, but the pressure inside you is building, coiling tightly in your core. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, your body begging for that final push.

Then, without warning, the suction toy is gone, removed with a soft pop that leaves you feeling empty and aching. But before you can protest, Remus's tongue is back, lapping greedily at your folds and replacing the toy's artificial stimulation with something far more intimate.

Remus moans into your pussy, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. You respond with a moan of your own, your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him closer. The need to feel him inside you is overwhelming now, every fibre of your being crying out for his touch.

"Remus," you gasp out, your voice a threadbare whisper of desperation. "I need..."

His breath is warm against the inside of your thigh, a stark contrast to the cool air that now caresses your exposed skin as he pulls away. He tugs at the waistband of his own trousers and there's a sense of urgency in the way he discards them. His erection springs free, hard and flushed with desire.

A soft incantation escapes his lips, and his hand glows momentarily with magic, slickening his length. The sight is utterly erotic—his hand moving slowly, purposefully along his shaft. His heavy-lidded gaze never leaves yours, the intimate connection unbroken even in silence.

Then, positioning himself at your entrance, he moves his hips against yours in a slow grind that has you both gasping. There's a hunger in his eyes, a desire that mirrors the ache building within you.

"Look at me," Remus says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. When your eyes meet, he thrusts forward, and you can't help but cry out.

He moves slowly, each thrust measured and careful, as if he savours every second of being joined with you. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath, the urgency in his movements betraying his need for control. Your body reacts instinctively, arching into him, meeting each stroke with a counterthrust of your own.

He reaches between your bodies, pressing the suction toy against your swollen clit. The added stimulation, coupled with the sensation of him filling you completely, is almost too much to bear. It's raw and intense, a perfect antidote to the fear and tension that had gripped you earlier.

"Love you... so much," he confesses, voice thick with emotion. His movements become more insistent, his body language speaking volumes of the depth of his affection, even if words fail him.

The pressure from the toy against your clit and the relentless pace of Remus's thrusts push you closer to the precipice of pleasure. Your body responds instinctively, every nerve ending alight with anticipation for the sweet release that is just within reach. A warmth starts to spread from your core, radiating outwards as euphoria begins to take hold.

"I love you too," you breathe back, reaching up to wrap your fingers around the back of his neck. He leans down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, conveying his feelings with a fervour that leaves you breathless. His hips shift slightly, finding a rhythm that has his cock stroking deeper inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

He turns the dial up a notch, and the toy buzzes with new intensity against your clit. Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the waves starting to build.

"Don't fight it," Remus grunts into your ear, his rhythm unyielding. Each word is a command, a sweet promise that sends you teetering on the edge of a precipice you fear you might not find tonight.

But then you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. The sensation of his hard cock sliding in and out of your tightness is nearly enough to send you over the edge. He leans in to capture your lips with his, his tongue exploring your mouth as he fucks you faster, harder.

The sensation of his hips against yours, the rhythmic push and pull that sends his length gliding over your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot within you... coupled with the unrelenting pressure of the toy against your clit, it's a maddening pleasure that threatens to consume you.

"Beautiful," Remus murmurs, his voice soft yet thick with desire. He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his words a balm to your insecurities, wrapping you up in a cocoon of warmth and adoration.

Your back arches off the bed as he thrusts deeper, the angle hitting places untouched before. A whimper escapes your throat, lost in the cavern of his mouth as he continues to move relentlessly within you. Your body tightens around him, the walls of your core squeezing his girth in an intimate grip that has him groaning into your mouth.

His moans mingle with yours, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through your heated bodies. Every sound, every touch, every movement heightens the sensations coursing through your veins, pushing you towards the edge of ecstasy.

His arms tremble, the muscles straining as he fights for control. "I'm so close, love."

"You can, Remus," you whisper, your voice a breathless plea. You're teetering on the edge yourself, the coil of pleasure within you wound so tight it's painful. "Let go for me."

The sensation of him pulsing inside you is overwhelming, his thrusts growing erratic and desperate. The suction toy against your clit is relentless, pushing you towards your own release.

His eyes flutter shut, lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over him. "Ah, fuck... I—" He chokes back a groan, his entire body tensifying. "I'm going to cum."

He stills above you, his cock twitching inside you as he reaches his climax. Warmth floods you, his seed spilling deep within. His head falls forward, buried in the crook of your neck, his breath ragged against your skin.

His body is heavy on yours, a comforting weight that pins you to the bed. His chest rises and falls rapidly against you, damp with sweat, his heart pounding a frenzied rhythm that echoes your own.

"You didn't—" Remus starts, his voice rough with exertion. He props himself up on one elbow, peering down at you with concerned eyes. His hair is tousled, sticking to his forehead, and his cheeks are flushed a deep pink. "I can—"

He reaches for the toy that lies discarded by your side, but you stop him with a gentle hand on his arm. Your fingers trace the lines of muscle there, still trembling from the effort of his climax.

"Remus," you breathe, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. "It's okay. I didn't need to."

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you reach out to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, there's a strange comfort in this intimacy, in the warmth that radiates from his body and the gentle way his fingers trace patterns on your skin.

"Alright," Remus relents, setting the toy aside. His voice holds a note of resignation, but he doesn't argue further. "If that's what you want."

"It is," you confirm, your voice steady despite the turmoil within you. "And for the record, I don't need an orgasm every time we have sex."

"But you should have one," he insists softly, his thumb brushing a comforting path along your cheekbone. It's a simple gesture, yet it anchors you amidst the storm of emotions threatening to pull you under. "You deserve everything good, love."

The words wash over you, warm like sunbeams breaking through a canopy of clouds. You want to believe them, and you do. Your lips curve into a tentative smile, encouraged by the sincerity in his eyes. He mirrors your expression, his gaze never wavering from yours.

Slowly, as though afraid to break the spell, he leans closer. His breath mingles with yours, a shared secret between two hearts beginning to understand each other. Then his lips meet yours, a gentle kiss that speaks louder than any words could.

When he pulls away, his eyes remain fixed on yours, holding you captive within their depths. They're a window to his soul, reflecting the same warmth that lingers on your lips. And in that moment, you understand what it means to be seen, to be valued, not for what you can do or who you can become, but for who you are.

Remus' weight shifts off of you, replaced by the gentle pressure of his arm drawing you close against his side. His voice is a low rumble in your ear, each word enveloping you like a warm blanket. "I love you."

You turn to face him, your eyes meeting the steady gaze of his. The sincerity reflected there causes your heartbeat to stutter, a sweet ache spreading through your chest. His face is close, so close that you can count the freckles dusting his cheeks, see the faint lines etched by years of laughter and worry.

"I love you too, Remus," you whisper back, your voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the sheets. His touch is a balm to your weary soul, washing away the lingering concerns of the day.

[veren-cos]

Asking out the Bachelors (SDV)

x disabled!reader

You presented him with a bouquet. But before he could speak, you interupt. "Now before you say anything!" He looks at you confused. "I want you to know before you make any big decisions that I am disabled. I get around fine enough, I mean, I can handle my farm and all. But some days it's rough. And I won't be able to. I might not have the energy for anything. I really- Really -like you, but I don't want to be hurt down the line because you can't deal with this." You put your heart on the line and awaited his response.

All Bachelor's below the cut

Harvey

• Gives you a big ol' hug

• Probably cries a little because he is so happy that you asked him out

• Hopes you don't notice

• You definitely do, but don't say anything because-how cute is he!

• The two of you just stay there for a second, because it's not like you can really move when you are trapped in a hug

• "Dear, having a disability is no big thing. So you need a little extra support sometimes. I am your man!"

• Literally will go to the ends of the Earth to help you when things are acting up

• When you go into more detail about it, he knows a lot already! (Duh he is a doctor)

• But he will do a lot more research about the specifics once you leave.

• He stays in that hug for a really long time before realizing that he never actually accepted your bouquet and becomes a bit of a flustered mess

• You think he is adorable

Sam

• As much as he likes to think he is sooooo cool, he is so happy that he just gives you a double thumbs up and a dopey grin

• He says, "Farmer you don't know how happy this makes me!"

• Invites you into his house to talk about things more, and plucks around his guitar while doing so.

• He doesn't know crap about disabilities, besides adhd and a few more common ones.

• But he is willing to learn!

• The two of you actually have a really long heartfelt conversation about it.

• Lots of hugs.

• Like he cannot get over the fact that you are dating now.

• Maybe a makeout session if the mood feels right?

Sebastian

• Kinda just stares at you for an uncomfortable amount of time

• You have no idea what he is thinking, and frankly neither does he.

• His brain is frying at the fact that you like him back.

• And then he is also panicking at the fact that you think he won't like you because of something you can't change!

• Grabs your hands once he snaps out of it, startles both of you

• "Yes!" He somewhat shouts, "yes! Yoba, I swear. I care for you and nothing about you will change that."

• Proceeds to just hold your hands and blush because OHMYGOSHMYCRUSHLIKESMEANDIJUSTTOLDTHEMILIKETHEMAND-

• Later when you talk about your disability more, he recognizes the name from late night internet browsing, and will do whatever he can for you when things get bad.

• Like Sam, there is a lot of communication about how he can help because he isn't well informed

Alex

• Literally picks you up???

• Idk he is weird (it's okay we still love him)

• Like holds you bridal style and gives you a big smooch on your cheek

• He doesn't care you have a disability

• Will do his best to learn how to help!!!

• Absolutely will take care of your farm and animals if need be

• When he sets you down he gives you an actual kiss

• Shows up at your farm the next day after talking to Harvey

• He wanted to learn a bit more about helping people with disabilities, now having two important people in his life that have them! (You and George)

• The two of you talk about everything

• Overall he'd be really good about it once he got going

Shane

If he was sober at the moment

• "We all have our problems, and yours is nothing."

• "I'm shocked you want to go out with me, but remember, this was your idea!"

• Aka, he tried to act all tough but when you look at his face, he is just a softy

• He has a slight blush on his face

• He is so happy you trusted him enough to tell him your personal business

• Won't be perfect by any means at helping when things get hard, but he tries

If he was drunk at the moment

• "I'm not dealing with that."

• And then he walks away.

• Regrets it so much when he sobers up but the damage was done

• If you felt that he deserved another chance it wouldn't be for a long time

• If you get together later, every time things flare up he just feels so guilty.

Elliott

(Apologies in advance for possibly being out of character. He is the one I know the least about-)

• Similar to Alex ngl (kinda?)

• He smiles at you, places his hand at the nape of your neck, and then gives you a kiss on the cheek

• Let's his head rest on your forehead for a few moments before accepting your bouquet

• Gives you a gentle kiss

• Will learn all of the things to know about your disability

• Makes sure you check in with Harvey about it whenever things get bad

• Will make you soup :) he knows it won't 'fix' anything, but he doesn't know when else to do when people aren't feeling good

• It's cute

• Will gives you cuddles after he accepts the bouquet, and makes sure to talk to you about what you need.

• He tells you, "nothing can change the way I feel about you. You are the light of my life." (Or some fancy poetry that idk how to write)

This is the first thing I've written that I've posted, so please lmk if I made a typo or something!!! And let me know if you want me to elaborate on any prompt. Or give me a prompt! I will be posting more, I just have to edit them.

Also I mostly write x reader, which I am down to make weirdly specific. Mostly fluff or hurt/comfort, but I am down for almost anything so if you have any fic you want written, lmk!!! I might not get to it for a while because, life, but we'll see! Hope you had fun reading, sorry for the long outro-

(Thank you to my friend for proofreading if you see this)

(Edited Alex's, thanks for pointing out George is disabled!)

[deramin2]

Essek constantly gushing about his partner but pointedly not giving his name hits me so hard in the feels.

Two formative childhood experiences for me:

ONE

I was severely, mercilessly bullied as a child at every school I went to even if they're was no overlap of kids, and authority figures either ignored me or directly told me it was my fault. I was socially toxic. Any other kid who publicly associated with me was also targeted for harassment. I was best friends with a girl around the corner but because I was a couple years younger (in itself an invitation for bullying) and a parish, we could never let anyone know we were friends.

I've been told I should be upset at her for this, but it wasn't her fault. It was the other children who made it a fact that she would be harmed by publicly being my friend. She didn't make those rules, we were both just honest that it existed and there was nothing we could do to change that. The best we could do to survive was at least protect her. And that benefited me by actually having a friend.

So if we talked about each other it was"my friend." No names. No acknowledging we knew each other in public. No introductions to other friends. Keeping that divide up was necessary to survival. I had a couple friends on the same freak level as we and we were in fact targeted with additional harassment to get to the other person. It was a legitimate threat to live with. At some point I just stopped thinking it was ever necessary to reveal who my friends or family are unless it's both explicitly relevant and necessary.

TWO

I learned to use the internet in the late 1990s when anonymity was considered a best practice. Don't give out your age, sex, location, or other identifying information. You don't know who is on the other side of that screen or what they will do to you if they know. Sperate your online and offline worlds to protect yourself.

This helped reinforce experience one because clearly adults also acted like those kids and this just normal human behavior no one will ever put a stop to that you need to be on guard for at all times. Build in air gaps so if one of you is compromised it's harder for the perpetrator to get to other people you care about. Defending them through anonymity is a way of showing you love them.

Also since some family are searchable through have state government jobs that right-wing nut jobs chips target them for, I wanted to make sure they couldn't be connected to me as a queer trans disabled person active online. In case something I said led to them being targeted.

(This is correct advice, even though it flies in the face of modern online conventions. There are tons of malicious people on three internet who will target you and anyone you love if they decide to hurt you.)

RESULT

By default, I refer to people by their relationship to me, not their name. My friend, my partner, my parent, my family, someone I know, etc. Often I avoid gendering them to make it even harder to identify them. I have to consciously consider if the person I'm talking to has any reason to know my associate's name. Blacklist everyone, then whitelist exceptions.

I do this even if both people know each other because the specific association feels dangerous. Better to be viewed as acquaintances than a meaningful relationship that changes how either of us could be viewed. It's not even really a judgement on thinking the person is untrustworthy, I just don't want to spend any extra energy thinking about it. It doesn't even feel relevant because my relationship to this person fellas like it conveys more information that actually matters.

ESSEK

Essek knows both he and Caleb are being targeted by powerful people who have shown they will target loved ones to get to them. Additionally, tensions between the Empire and Dynasty are still high and it could very easily compromise how their own sides view them if it's known that they're romantically entangled with someone from the other side. It could also blow each other's cover and make their meeting places more vulnerable to attack. Especially if their enemies know they could hit both of them at once.

It's genuinely dangerous for their connection to be known, so they don't name names. It's not even a matter of whether Bell's Hells would intentionally misuse that information, but what they also could just let slip to the wrong person. It's not really worth the risk when "my partner" is all the information they actually need to understand him.

My guess is that Essek said "Bren" is hiss partner because they already know a Bren sent them to Astrid. And since Caleb no longer uses the name Bren it would be much harder to connect them. It would have caused more questions, more prying, and more risk to give no name for his partner when directly pressed. So he gives a truthful but less dangerous answer. The anonymity is an act of love.

[spicerackofblorbos]

Chapter 1: November

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, eventual smut (these update with every chapter)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! This is my first time writing fanfiction in a loooooong time, like the last time I wrote was probably in 2011. So with that said please be kind with any feedback or comments. I hope you enjoy! (also I made Hange's pronouns she/her/them/they)

Edit (11/27/2023): Hey guys, welcome to my little world of Unspoken Words. I have quite literally used this story as a way to better myself as a writer. As you read on, you may find that I've progressed (ofc I have a long way to go) but because of that, my first few chapters might be rough. With your patience, you may find a liking to this story as I know I've loved writing every word of it.

☾ word count ➼ ~7.1k

20-something years ago 

You’re not sure how, but you find yourself sitting in the back of a big, white van. Red and blue lights danced in your eyes, and it felt like a thousand people surrounded you. Something plastic is placed on your face then you are instructed to breathe in deeply. You thought it was funny to be told to breathe, like you don’t just do it naturally, but you follow instructions regardless. It’s hard though, every part of your body hurts, chest included. Every breath you take feels like your insides are on fire.  

‘Fire’, you think.  

Everything is on fire.

Present Day

Levi stood blank faced as he meticulously cleaned the blender station for what felt like the 100th time today. The late afternoon rush had just tapered down so he took advantage of the next to empty café to clean as much as he could before closing for the evening.  

“It’s 20 degrees outside, how are people still wanting frozen drinks.” he murmurs to himself, placing the blender back in its spot. Levi turns to the front counter and slings the towel he was using to dry things onto his shoulder.  

His best friend, roommate, and business partner could be seen restocking some books on tall shelves, a gentle smile lighting up his boyish features. It’s been about a year and a half since they started this business venture together and they had no idea at the time how successful their bookstore-café combo would be in this small town.  

Erwin’s thirst for knowledge kept their shelves as variable as ever while Levi’s love for perfecting the art of tea kept the drinks flowing. The problem, however, was Levi’s lack of people skills. He was seldom seen at the register, nor would you ever see him smile or talk to the customers. He often would leave you with a grunt and a swift turn after handing off the drinks.  

No, for that, they had hired a couple of local highschoolers to do the facing work.  

“Mr. Smith, Levi?” a soft voice rang out to the left of him. Levi shifted his attention to a taller girl with shoulder length raven hair standing next to him. Being as Mikasa is his cousin, they found early on how weird it was to be called ‘Mr. Ackerman’ as they shared the same surname. It was this connection too that got them to where they are today.  

“Would it be okay if Eren and I take off a little early tonight? We have some big tests coming up and we’d like to take some extra time to study.” Mikasa shifted her dark eyes to the darkening windows as the sun set just over the horizon. Pinks and oranges flooded the partially clouded skies.  

”Tch.” Levi could not help but roll his eyes. He raised a brow at her and leaned back against the counter behind him for support. “Sure, I guess,” he continues. “But do you really need it or is it for that blockhead?”  

As if summoned by his words, Eren comes up from behind Mikasa and wraps a red scarf around his girlfriend’s neck, both of their jackets hanging off one of his arms. Eren is a good kid, always on time and followed directions, but the amount of sass he held in his body was something else. Levi and Erwin did not mind though, as he added a certain energy in the café that the customers seemed to enjoy. The two men wouldn’t say it out loud, but they really appreciated having them both on the team.  

“Hey, I heard that. And yes, I need to study desperately. Econ is so hard and for what?!” Eren’s teal eyes widened for emphasis. To add to it he even put on a fake pout.  

“I-”  

“Just take the trash with you on the way out and you’re good to go.” Erwin piped up from behind a bookshelf.  

Mikasa nodded in acknowledgement towards the voice, a silent thank you. Like Levi, she was not one for many words. He once thought it was an Ackerman thing but then he thought back to his annoying uncle and changed his mind quickly.  

With that, she and Eren both untangled the aprons from their bodies, grabbed their belongings, and picked up the trash bags that were already taken out of the cans. They opted to leave through the back since the dumpsters were located that way. Again, Levi wouldn’t say it to anyone out loud, but he really did like those kids.  

Erwin could be heard stacking more books into the shelves which left Levi to polish the counters again. It was the last hour before they closed so it stayed quiet for the most part, only interrupted by the sounds of scuffling shoes and books being placed on hard surfaces. Light jazz filled the rest of the silence. Then the bell signifying new customers rang from the front.  

“Levi, can you grab that?”  

The raven-haired man just huffed in response then stepped over to the register. His eyes fell on two figures right in front of him. A frazzled brunette and... you.  

Due to the season, you are bundled up in a thick parka and knitted beanie. A big scarf wraps around your neck and face so that all Levi could see is your flushed cheeks and thick lashed eyes. Truthfully, you reminded him of a marshmallow.  

“What’ll it be?” he asks, deadpan. The brunette is the one to respond, the voice loud enough to make him wince.  

“Hmmm... well one English breakfast tea latte with lots of room for sugar aaaaand I’ll take a peppermint hot chocolate. Oh, and extra whip! We’ll drink it here.” She fished out a card with a dramatic thwip and handed it to Levi’s outstretched hand.  Their café is one of those where if you were to stay, they offered washable cup ware as to keep the prices down on disposable cups. Not to mention the lessened ‘environmental impact’ as Erwin would say.  

Levi glances at you before turning to make both orders. You give a small wave and smile a little, but he was already working quickly on the drinks. 

He went into autopilot as he steeped the tea and steamed the milk. He really appreciated customers that ordered anything outside of coffee, especially when it came to tea. It’s not that he hated coffee, though it’s not like he liked it either, but it just wasn’t his thing. Coffee offered a different kind of bitterness that he wasn’t very fond of. With extra whipped cream in one and extra space in the other, he whirled around to place the drinks on the counter.  

The one with glasses is the one that picks them up and they promptly walk in the direction of where you currently sit, one of the tables in the back corner by the window. You were stripped of your big parka and scarf, though the beanie stayed. Your eyes were wandering around the café in wonder, and Levi was pretty sure this had to be your first time here. But truthfully, he wouldn’t know, he didn’t make it his business to know his customers. That was Erwin’s and the kids’ job. 

“The shelves are full and I’m exhausted.” Erwin came around the counter with a couple of empty boxes in his arms, heading straight for the back to the dumpster. Levi stepped back and leaned against the counter once again, his own black tea that had steeped while making yours cradled in his fingertips. He kept looking at his only customers while he sipped the black liquid. The teacup almost slipped out of his grip as he saw you dumping a large amount of sugar into your cup.  

 There you sit, extremely focused on the cup in front of you and lips pressed together tightly, almost as if you were afraid you’d put in too much. The sight would have been funny if you hadn’t just ruined your entire tea, he thinks to himself. You smile to yourself in satisfaction and put the sugar jar back where it came from. While you stir the sweetener in gently, the brunette in front of you talks animatedly. Hands were flying everywhere, and Levi could practically feel the energy radiating from the corner of the room.  You were doing the same, silently laughing. 

Suddenly the front door flew open, the bell ringing loudly with it. Levi grits his teeth, steeling himself for yet another customer interaction. But his shoulders dropped in relief at the sight of only Carly, Erwin’s girlfriend. She saunters up to the counter with a big smile aimed towards Levi and without even asking she slid behind the bar. Erwin had already made it from the back and was in the process of putting away the leftover ingredients from the day. Carly wraps her arms around her boyfriend and plants a big kiss on his face, to which Levi quickly looks away. It wasn’t weird for her to come in right as they were about to close.  

What was weird, he thought, was the shock that flooded your face as you eyed the very public display of affection. Levi knit his brows in confusion as the brunette pivoted in her seat to see what you were staring at. Their face fell, any evidence of a good time completely erased.  

“Carly?”  

The person in question whipped around so fast at the voice and the panic that exuded from her was palpable. She quickly unwrapped herself from Erwin’s embrace.  

“Hange.”  

If it wasn’t for the jazz in the background, the lengthy silence that followed would have been deathly.  

Carly clears her throat and laughs awkwardly.  

“Uh, why are you here?”  

The person named Hange just lifts their hot chocolate cup awkwardly, not really saying anything. Their eyes shift between Carly and Erwin, clearly understanding what had happened.  

“I-I’m sorry, you guys know each other?” Erwin sounds cautious, like he already knew the answer. Of course, he would, he isn’t dumb. His piercing blue eyes survey the situation, going back and forth between the two.  

“Well, uh. I-” Carly stutters, clearly at a loss of what to say in the predicament she found herself in.  

“She’s my girlfriend.” Hange claims calmly.  

This admission makes Erwin sigh heavily, confirming what he had pieced together. Levi stared at him in bewilderment as the man just chuckled quietly.  

“Well. I suppose that’s it then.” And with that he turns on his heel and stalks off to the back room. 

“Wait, Erwin I can explain!” She follows right on his heels and disappears into the back room as well. A minute later you can hear hysterical crying and calm retorts reverberating from the back. If Levi could shrink into the cabinets to get out of this situation, he would. Instead, he focuses on the other party who were having a very quiet and rushed discussion. Well, a one-sided discussion, as he only heard one voice.  

Levi, realizing it was almost time to close anyways, rushes to close the distance between him and the front door. He really did not want to have to deal with other customers while the drama unfurled. So, he flips the door sign to ‘Closed’ and unplugs the ‘Open’ neon sign hanging in the window. A couple walks by about to open the door, probably out for a café date from the looks of it. But they were only met with a dead stare from the sharpest eyes they’d ever seen. With that, they briskly turned around and left down the sidewalk.  

Levi spins around and from here he gets a better look at the two trapped customers. You were moving your hands all over the place like you were earlier. But with an even closer look he realizes you weren’t just talking animatedly with your hands; you were talking with them. You were signing. 

You reacted to your partner’s conversation just fine, so it was clear you had some sort of hearing. Your scarf now hung loose around your shoulders, and it looked like you had tears brimming in your eyes. Levi swiftly walks back to the counter; this is obviously not a conversation he needed to be a part of.

“Hey, don’t worry about me. It’s only been a couple of months. Really, it’s better to find out now than 3 years from now.” They laughed without humor. You know when Hange was saving face for your sake, she was never as sly as she thought she was.  

‘You don’t need to be strong right now.’ You sign then reach your hand out to touch her cheek softly. Physical touch had become your second language early on, if only to emphasize. Fortunately, Hange was okay with that and often embraced it with open arms.  

“I know, my little strawberry. I just need some time to process everything.” They pat you on the head lightly with a small grin. You swat their hands, blushing at the nickname you were so graciously given so many years ago.  But you nod back, knowing they would not change their mind.  

The tall blonde glides through the back door, alone. His face was grim as he tugged loose the tie around his neck.  

“Hange, was it?” He started walking towards you and your very startled sister.  

“U-uh yeah. That’s my name! Listen I had no idea, I’m so sorry. I would have said something obviously but-”, they take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”  

“Erwin Smith. There is nothing to apologize for as I can only assume there’s only one blame to be given. I hate that we must meet under such a circumstance, but it is truly nice to meet you.” He raises a hand waiting for a handshake.  

Hange takes it after a second of processing, shaking the hand vigorously with both hands.  

“Well, unfortunately it is what it is. I’m sure Carly and I will be speaking soon. I’m assuming she’s not just hiding back there.” They flick their gaze to the back door he had just come through.  

“Ah well, yes. Long gone... how long were you two...?”  

“Only like, 3 months or so. You?” 

He flinched at that and murmured, “3 Years.” 

Thinking back to her comment not 10 minutes ago, Hange bit their cheek.  

“Oh man I’m so sorry.”  

“No, please. It’s alright. None of this is yours or my fault. We couldn’t have known, but now we do.” Erwin chuckled to himself. You wonder if he’s trying to save face the way your sister did. His gaze now shifts to you. He is a very handsome man. To your extreme surprise, he starts signing to you. 

‘I'm sorry, who might you be? I noticed you signing earlier. I know a little from the books I have read.’ His crystal blue eyes sparkle at you as he signs. You can’t help but break out into a huge grin. You sign your name back and compliment him on his raw signing form.  

‘I am of hearing, though. So please feel free to talk, and I will sign back.’ You clarify to Erwin, the smile not falling from your face.  

“That sounds like a plan. Levi, stop hiding behind the counter and come say hi.” Erwin calls out, not bothering to look over his shoulder. You hear a grunt in response and not 10 seconds later, the barista stands cross armed next Erwin. He nods a hello to each of you.  

You knew he was shorter than you, at least a couple inches, based off the interaction at the counter earlier. But seeing him side by side with his friend was almost comical. But as short stature as he was, it did not keep him from holding himself with such authority. It made you nervous.  

‘Thank you for the tea, it was very good.’ You sign, your sister translating in real time for you.  

“Tch, are you sure? I saw you dump enough sugar in it to make it syrup.” Levi retorts dryly.  

That makes you smile sheepishly. His fixated stare unnerved you a little, but you stare back regardless. Now that he was closer, a glass case no longer between the both of you, your eyes traveled along his face in close inspection. 

He’s beautiful, you think to yourself. His features are sharp and angled. Steely gray eyes pronounced a permanent exhausted look. It was a shade of gray you’ve never seen before, and they were mesmerizing. As if he could feel you staring holes in his face, he flicks his eyes to the side, clearly uncomfortable. But you can’t help it, because really the most intriguing thing about him was not his metallic eyes. It was the scars that marred his porcelain skin.  

A couple of scars ran down the right side of his face. The prominent of the two trailed from the top right of his forehead all the way down to his chin, cutting into his right eye and both lips. You’re pretty sure his eye was quite damaged due to the slight muted discoloration of the eye color.  

He’s beautiful, you repeat to yourself. You glance over to Hange, and they just look over at you with a knowing look. You know she was just begging to ask Levi too, but she just shakes her head. So, you fold your hands together and pinch your lips together.  

“Well!” Hange yells out, breaking the silence. “This human really needs a drink. Let’s all go! Erwin, I demand you let me treat you to a couple drinks!” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and laughs.  

“A drink sounds fantastic; I will gladly take you up on that offer. Let me just close up rea-” He’s cut off by Levi raising both of his hands up in protest. You notice the two missing fingers on his right hand. The pointer and middle were gone. Whatever this man went through, you just had to know. But you toss those questions onto an ever-growing pile and bite your cheek.  

“Erwin, I can close up. You go ahead.” Your sister just smiles widely and practically jumped up and down. The blonde man just clapped his hand Levi’s shoulder and smiled at him.  

“Thank you. You’ll join us after? The usual place?” Levi just shrugs his shoulders in response.  

Part of you hoped he would. You couldn’t place a singular reason why though.  

.

Fifteen minutes later, the three of you found yourselves in a well-lit and very crowded bar. Somehow Erwin had snagged a table near the back wall. Heavy rock blares loudly from a live band maybe 20 feet away. Overwhelming was an understatement, but you grit your teeth and sit down on one of the stools.  

“Whatcha want, my darlings?!” Hange yells over the music, slapping both hands down on the table and staring at the both of you.  

“Whiskey neat, whatever they offer is fine.”  

You sign the words ‘apple’ and ‘juice’ followed by a ‘thank you’. You’ve never been one for a drink. While it was tolerable to be around, you’d rather not have to taste it if you could help it.  

Looking around, you see all manners of people surrounding you. Something about it makes your stomach turn but you shift in your seat to quell it down. You’re sure it’s only so crowded because of the prospect of a Friday night and the promise of no plans the following day. The town of Jinae was not anything special, but it was quaint. You and your sister found out quickly it was a place where everyone knew mostly everyone. After only settling down here from your hometown 5 months ago, you were still learning of all the local spots.  

From the looks of it, this bar was one of those. “The Scouts” was an inviting place, decorated with dark greens and wood tones. The walls were littered with many frames of a lot of different people. You imagine it might have been local residents in various locations of the town. All of the wood was worn down, so it was clear this place has been in business for a while. A neon sign hangs above the stage where the live band played, something that resembled blue and white wings. It makes you wonder what the significance is.  

Your thoughts are disturbed as a glass is placed in front of you. Realizing the dryness in your throat, you pick up the glass and take a big swig of the amber liquid. You’re met with a burning sensation, and you gag. This alerts Hange of the unfortunate mistake.  

“Ah I’m sorry my little strawberry!! They do look quite similar though, don’t they?” They switch the glasses quickly and laugh. You notice the very noticeable cup size differences between the two and you stare at her quizzically. “I may have taken a shot while at the bar, sorry.” she adds on. It makes you shake your head, but you grab her hand reassuringly and chuckle.  

‘I’m sorry.’ You sign at Erwin, and he just smiles back.  

“Not a problem. But I have to ask, how was it?” A bushy eyebrow raises at you in amusement.  

You just stick your tongue out and make a gagging gesture at him. You laugh though, not really upset.  

Two apple juices in, the live band ends. Hange and Erwin are very deep in conversation, which you suspect might be about Carly. You can’t really hear what’s being said though. With the absence of music, chatter quickly fills the air. Honestly it was really starting to get to you. So, after tapping on the pair’s shoulders and signing where you were going, you find yourself leaning over the guard rail just outside the bar’s door.  

The sun was already far gone. A crescent moon sits high in the sky and a smatter of stars surrounds it. The cold air felt very welcome on your very flushed face. You exhale a big sigh, which garners a puff of steam. It makes you laugh so you do it again. Then you start to wonder how long you might be able to last out here before getting frostbite when suddenly a body starts leaning against the rail next to you.  

With a start, you whip your head to face the newcomer. Instantly you relax at the sight of Erwin’s friend. He was adorned in a big peacoat and his casual slacks. A tan turtleneck sweater peaks out from the jacket’s collar. His face was flushed as well, no doubt from the cold.  

Levi. 

He wasn’t paying you any mind though, instead his gaze laid upon the sky above, at the stars. You wave at him anyways and offer a small smile. He glances at you with a side eye and returns a curt nod.  

Not one for words. 

So, you both stand there in silence, staring up at the twinkling lights above. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. Something about his presence radiated a sort of calm, and you were happy to bask in it.  

After a few minutes, he shifts his weight in your direction, so you face him. He’s staring up at you and it makes you swallow hard. His eyes glowed silver from the moonlight. Truly you have never been this fascinated with a person until now.  

“You like the stars.” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement.  

You nod in agreement, smiling to emphasize your love for them. He purses his lips at that. It seemed as if he wanted to say something else to that, but nothing came out. It just makes you frown a bit. You just have more questions that keep piling up. Everything about him just emanated mystery and it made you want to know all about him.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to him, exaggerating your frown to show your concern. You’re only met with a look of confusion. You forget that he does not know much if any sign. And you kick yourself for leaving your communication tools at home. To be fair though, this is not where you expected to be tonight.  

You then get an idea to use your phone to type to him but before you even reach into your pocket, you’re interrupted by a sudden blast of warm air as a couple stumbles out of the bar, both in a giggling fit as they cling to each other. They take off down the road, laughing even harder. The brief warm air makes you shiver, reminding you of the cold outside.  

As if thinking the same thing, Levi catches the door before it closes and holds it open for the both of you. You’re suddenly well aware of the very loud singing happening from within and your eyes widen at the familiarity of one of the voices. You and Levi make your way to the voices and are greeted with the sight of Erwin and Hange duetting a Backstreet Boys song.  

What a sight it was. The tall brunette, face flushed and glasses askew, had their arm around Erwin. He his blonde hair was quite tousled, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. They both swayed together as they belted out the lyrics. As if their smiles were contagious, you felt yourself grin. It was kind of cute. So, you pull out your phone and snap a quick picture, sure to show Hange in the morning. It was a good thing too, because the song ends right as you put your phone away in your bag. Levi clicks his tongue and huffs. You glance over at the noise and notice a small upturn to the corner of his scarred mouth. Noticing your gaze, his face vacates itself from any emotion as he stares back ahead.  

“Oi! Eyebrows!” He calls out to his friend. Levi starts making his way to the stage, walking with a slight limp. Yet another question to add onto the pile. “I’m gone for 45 minutes and you’re already singing.”  

“I’m fine! Just a couple drinks in.”  

You all make your way to the table you had laid claim to earlier. You survey the table and count at least 6 more glasses, not counting your two. It was hard to see who drank what.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to your sister, concern etched on your face. They just nod lazily and give a thumbs up with both hands. Levi is regarding you with a look of understanding, and it seems he realized that you had asked him outside.  Music starts playing over the speakers again, and people start making their way to the dance floor. Hange squeals and downs the rest of her drink quickly.  

“Erwin let’s go!” She grabs his arm, not waiting for a response. He gives a mock salute to the two of you and follows without question. Levi just clicks his tongue again and heads to the bar to get himself something. So, you plop yourself down on the stool and stare out into the room. Out of nervous habit you start fidgeting with the napkins in front of you. A moment later, Levi’s hobbling over with a tray of drinks. 

“I got the idiots some water, they look like they need it.” He places the glasses down with a thud, including one of his own housing some sort of caramel liquid. Then he’s sliding something over to you and you’re about to protest that you don’t drink but you realize it’s not a glass. It’s a notepad and pen.  

“If you need something, this might come in handy.” is all he says.  

You’re quick to show your appreciation with a bright smile. You also note to yourself that you could have very well have used your phone to communicate but you were not one to disregard someone’s thoughtfulness. It makes something bloom in your chest, warm and comforting.  

Your many years of not having a phone of course meant writing – a lot. Your handwriting evolved plenty with time so that meant it was extremely neat. It had to have been so that the reader would be able to read it without an issue. 

First you write your name, as you realize no one had really said it out loud while at the teashop. Following that you add ‘I think your shop is wonderful, and I really did enjoy the tea you made.’ You also want to jot down the questions from earlier that were still swimming in your mind, but you hold yourself back. You tell yourself maybe later, granted if there would even be a later.   

When angling the paper so he could see it, his eyes flit across the words quickly and you’re given a grunt in acknowledgement. Pulling back the notepad, you bite the inside of your cheek. While it wasn’t awkward being next to him, he sure made it hard to talk to. His cold demeanor gave you the feeling he wasn’t the type to talk about himself, especially with someone he just met. So, asking questions about him or his life was out the window. Likewise, he did not really seem interested in hearing your life story, not like you were planning to spill it anyways for fear of being met with disdain. You had plenty of experiences with that growing up.  

Tapping the pen against your chin, your eyes drift around the bar room. There a multitude of people lingering about, shouting over each other to be heard. A couple sits in a corner, whispering who knows what to each other. Both of their cheeks are flushed and eyes heavy with lust. A handful of people are on the dance floor grinding away, your sister and new friend sticking out like a sore thumb as they dance with reckless abandon. All of this gave you an idea, remembering something you’ve read before many moons ago. You start scrawling on the paper again.  

‘Are you a gambling man, Levi?’ 

You shift the pad back over to him and he glances down again after taking another sip of his spirit. He was holding his glass in a way you’d never seen before and honestly it was a little weird.  

“Tch, hardly. Why do you ask?” He looks hard at you as you scratch something else down.  

‘I propose a game to pass the time. Let’s make some bets about the random people in this room.’ 

He looks at you incredulously. You stand your ground, not averting your gaze even a little. When you don’t back down, he just scoffs and shakes his head at you.  

“I literally could not care less about these people,” he clicks his tongue. “But I suppose there’s not much else to do so I’ll bite.” Knocking back the rest of his drink, he moves around you to lean back against the wall so that he is facing the rest of the crowd. You shift so that you are doing the same. You don’t overlook the proximity to the shorter man, nor the fact that your arms are almost touching. You start to scribble once more.  

‘Winner gets to ask the loser one question.’ As his eyes fall on your words, he seems a little taken aback. Levi seems to think for a moment, like he’s weighing his pros and cons.  

“One non-personal question.” He amends. You both nod in agreement. So, your eyes travel around the room, looking for your first target. It falls on a group not so far away.  

‘I bet that gaggle of young girls over there are here for a bridal party.’

You point in the direction of the said group. Currently they were taking tequila shots, lime and all. All of them sparkled and were dressed up to the nines, save for the silly little hats adorning their heads. And they were having so much fun.  

“No way,” Levi scoffs, “That has to be a 21st birthday. They all look like babies.”  

Suddenly someone comes through a parting in the crowd with a tray of assorted colorful drinks garnished with cute little accessories. They all yell in excitement at the sight. One of the girls raises her glass and starts shouting.  

“To Estelle! May your married life be full of infinite love, happiness, and orgasms!” They all cheer and take big gulps of their drinks, followed by more giggling.  

Levi glances art you, his gray eyes dull in the dim bar light. An eyebrow lifts at you as well.  

“How did you know?” 

You do a sweeping gesture starting from one shoulder down to the opposite hip. He looks back over to the women and conveniently the soon-to-be-bride had faced your direction. She was indeed wearing a white sash sporting the word ‘BRIDE’ in bright pink letters. He huffs as he rolls his eyes, and you smirk at him in return. You press the pad over to him, already equipped with your question.  

Levi scoffs at your question. As promised, it wasn’t very personal. You figured ice breaker like questions were a good start. But his pause made you question if this was a good idea, you didn’t want to run him off or make him uncomfortable. Then he clicks his tongue, and his face softens ever so slightly.  

“My favorite hobby, huh? It would have to be cleaning.” He simply states. 

Cleaning?  

‘Like mopping, dusting, all that jazz?’  

“Yeah, it brings me peace. I like the control. Plus, I can't stand filthy things, people, or places. It’s repugnant.” He scrunches his nose at the last statement. A laugh bubbles up and you can’t help but let it loose. You’re shot with a glare and a sharp tone.  

“Funny?”  

You shake your head no and smile lightly while your hands move adeptly on the pad.  

‘Not funny, just amusing because it’s not something I would have expected. It’s different. If it makes you happy then it is an admirable hobby.’ 

Levi’s looking away from you now. If it wasn’t so dim, you would have seen there was a light dusting of pink color his cheeks and ears. He clears his throat and scans the room for his victim. His eyes land on the couple in the back corner whispering to each other. He notices their not-so-subtle hand movements as they felt each other up. Nodding in their direction, he looks back over to you, leaning close so you can hear.  

“I bet that couple will get up in the next 3 minutes and excuse themselves to somewhere private.” Your eyes travel in that direction, only to look away hastily at such an intimate scene. You’re not able to think of a counter-bet because honestly, you’re thinking the same thing. Your eyes settle back to his face, but he’s already looking back at the couple. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say. Suddenly his face is filled with a satisfied look, only to be replaced quickly with a look of horror. You follow his gaze again, afraid of what you might see.

Fortunately, it’s nothing risqué, as you catch the tail end of the couple slipping into one of the public, unmarked restrooms. But the thought of their future actions was enough to gross you out. Looking back at Levi, you scrunch your face up in disgust. He nods in understanding.  

“This is why we don’t use public restrooms, especially in a bar.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his good hand. “When I said somewhere private, I meant like a residence or something. Filthy animals, unbelievable. They better scrub that bathroom down. Maybe I should tell the bartender when they’re done. Maybe I should help clean.” 

His retorts crack you up, your shoulders bouncing from silent laughter. He just stares at you impassively as he runs his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face.  

“Well, it’s not like we should ruin their fun. Anyways I suppose I won. Let’s see... what’s your favorite color?” 

You part your lips, dumbfounded. This was never an easy question, as you found joy in a lot of different colors. You bite your lip and start writing, but after a couple minutes Levi rips the pad from your hands out of impatience.  

salmon 

turquoise? 

canary yellow! 

orange 

dark forest gre- 

He just looks at you in alarm.  

“Just pick one.” he scolds. 

You snatch the pad back and scribble down, ‘It’s not that simple!’  

“It is to me. White, easy.” You just stare right back at him, not believing what you just heard. Out of all the many shades and hues out there, this man decides the color white.  

‘Why?’ 

“It’s clean.” is the only response you get.  

It makes sense, you think. But seriously, this man was so weird. But like you said earlier, it was different and that made it refreshing to you. You start searching for your next bet.  

As if in a scene from a movie you’ve seen a dozen times came to life, your eyes snap to a lone woman sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and playing on her phone. A couple seats down, you spot a few men chatting. One of the men is staring hard at the very oblivious woman. You nudge Levi with your elbow, not unnoticing the slight flinch from your touch. You point to the scene, and he is quick to understand.  

“I bet when he walks over to her, she’ll get up and leave.” He says confidently.  

Trusting your instincts, you scrawl back quickly as you notice the man started making his way towards the woman. Sticking your tongue out at him, you angle the pad to him so he could see.  

‘Absolutely not. She’ll tell him off right away.’  

To both yours and his surprise, not one moment later she throws the rest of her drink contents onto the man’s head. She gathers her belongings, throws a wad of bills on to the bar, then stomps out of the establishment. The rejected man staggers back to his friends, and they applaud him for his supposed gall. This event left you both stunned. There’s a moment of pause where you and Levi just stare at each other before all hell breaks loose as he starts talking and you start scribbling furiously.  

“She walked away, I win.”  

‘She threw that drink on him, that’s practically telling him off. And that happened before any walking off.’  

“That hardly counts, no words were used.” He scoffs and folds his arms across his chest as he stares hard at you. You weren’t sure if the indignation was real or not, but it was evident in his face.   

‘Words are not always needed to convey intent.’ You shoot back at him, shifting your weight to tap your foot defiantly. You would know this of course.  

This makes Levi pause. He opens his mouth to say something but then Erwin and Hange came crashing into the little bubble you two had made. Suddenly the sounds of clinking glasses and mindless chatter came rushing in and you took a step back.  

“Um, I think Hange might have had a little too much tonight.” Erwin says, to which your attention is drawn to a very drunk Hange. They were a blubbering, sobbing mess. Whining about things that ranged from Carly to her work stress and everything in between. Your sister rarely got this drunk, but you imagine the events from earlier might have been her breaking point. This was a sign to get her home.  

You hastily round the table to wrap her arm around you and prop her up. Then after whipping a $20 out of your purse and throwing it on the table in front of the boys, you give them a grateful smile and sign to Erwin.  

‘Thank you both for tonight. She and I had a lot of fun. But I need to get her home before she gets worse.’ As if on cue, they let out a loud wail and start sobbing into your shoulder. You shift your body to hold them closer so that you don’t drop them. Erwin grabs your $20 and shoves it back in your purse before zipping it up. He had left you no time to protest as he places a large hand on your shoulder and stares intensely at you.  

“Please, let me take care of this. Tell them this was an exceptional time. And to please stop by the café again, we owe each a good, sober talk.” His bright blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you warmly. “It was a pleasure meeting you too. I hope you join Hange on the café visits as well. I think Levi has warmed up to you just nicely.” He wiggles an eyebrow at his friend. Levi just shoves him back and rolls his eyes.  

“Tch, fuck off. She’s alright, I guess.” He’s staring at you now, not as cold as before. “You owe me an answer next time we meet.”  

You purse your lips at him and shake your head in disagreement. 

‘I totally won that, don’t even think otherwise.’ You jot down lazily on the notepad still on the table. It wasn’t as neat, but you were propping up a whole human, you couldn’t help it.   

“Are you sure you’re safe to get home okay? We can he-” You cut Erwin off with a wave of the hand. Their spot of choice was actually very lucky, as you only live a few minutes away. And to be honest, you needed the cold air. So, you sign a quick goodbye to your new friends and make your way out. 

Walking down the snowy sidewalk, you pat Hange’s head as she grumbles about random things. She opted to walk herself, but you kept your hand in theirs to lead them in the right direction. She only stumbled a few times but overall, you were able to keep a steady pace. You note that before you left, her glass of water had been untouched, so you make a mental reminder to hydrate her before throwing her in bed.  

‘Alcohol was not kind to those in their 30s’ you heard their voice say in the back of your mind.  

As your steps left crunching noises in their wake, you peer up at the moon and glittering stars. A certain raven-haired and silver-eyed man etched in your brain. You wonder how soon it will be before seeing him again.  

‘Levi’ you sign to yourself with a free hand. A smile cemented to your face the whole way home.

☾ Next Chapter: December

[sirfrogsworth]

If there is a post discussing ableism there is a decent chance a disabled person is writing it.

I really appreciate the work this person did transcribing that post. I am always grateful when people make my work more accessible.

But I am really getting tired of defending myself on this.

My disability makes me very tired, reduces my concentration, and kills my willpower.

For a long time I thought that last thing was me being lazy. That's what my own father thought for a long time. And I was often scolded when I was younger for being lazy. And to this day I struggle with feeling depressed when I cannot be productive.

But willpower is a fickle thing and I do not believe it can be explained simply by calling people lazy.

I have nearly a thousand unfinished posts in my draft folder because I simply ran out of willpower to finish them.

Inspiration is fuel. Sometimes it is the only thing I have to overcome how tired I am and how hard it is to stay focused. And if I lose the inspiration to do something, there is a good chance I will not be able to finish it.

When I set out to create one of my typical high effort posts, the process looks roughly like this...

Research any topics I am unfamiliar with.

Gather any images I need.

Brainstorm what I want to write.

Write a first draft.

Write a second draft.

Write a third draft.

If there is humor in what I'm writing, I will do a joke pass.

Then I do a grammar check.

Then I do a grammar check.

Then I do a grammar check.

I keep doing grammar checks until I find no more mistakes.

Then I do a quick fact check and google anything I am not 100% certain is correct.

Then I do a polishing pass and address any formatting issues.

And if I get this far, I publish the post.

By the time I get to publishing I am usually very tired. I no longer have any ability to concentrate. And the willpower to put any more effort into the post is long gone.

It's not that I don't want to transcribe images. It's that I just don't have the willpower to do so.

It is just not feasible for me to go back and transcribe everything. I don't want my posts ending up with those thousand unfinished drafts.

There is also the matter of not knowing if my post will reach 10 people or 10,000 people. I can't justify using up all of that energy for 10 people. My energy is my most precious commodity. I have to be very careful how I use it.

Disabilities vary wildly and lately I have seen a lot of disabled folks struggle to see the world outside their particular limitations. And that is frustrating. If we are going to be a strong community and advocate for ourselves, we need to learn more about each other's needs and limitations.

I'm not saying this person intended to call me lazy. But, if I am being honest, reading this felt like those days of my dad calling me lazy and wishing I had a better work ethic like my brother. He was a great dad, but he was not perfect. Especially when I was younger and we didn't understand my health issues.

So before you criticize someone please try to consider if there is a legitimate reason to do so. Maybe look at their tumblr and read their bio. Or check out a few posts.

I can be too quick to judge. It's something I have to work on as well. But this is the last time I'm going to apologize for not doing extra labor on my posts.

[wordy-little-witch]

Can we know about Atlas or Buggy Seraphim idea you have. Are they smaller than S-Hawk and S-Crocodile? What are the reactions of Buggy, Crocodile, Mihawk, and everyone else?

So I actually don't have like. A STRICT idea for S-Buggy, all in all. But what I DO have is this:

• he is, indeed, smaller than the rest. My personal thought process is that while they ARE made between cybernetics, lunarian and sourced DNA, they also have to.... idek I guess like INCUBATE. So if they got the DNA for Buggy during Impel Down, growth would be a lil closer to the rest. Still notably OFF but not quite so... teeny.

If it was only after he was named a Warlord, then I can see Atlas being visibly MUCH younger than the others.

Let's say for these purposes the current seraphim are around 10~. Atlas would be, on the older end, about 7-8~. On the lower end, he could be from 2-5~.

• he's semi or nonverbal! He either prefers to or can only speak in sign. Buggy has stints where he goes semi-verbal, and he was a late talker himself, but for Atlas it's. A constant thing. Words are hard.

• his wings are disproportionally tiny compared to the others and the tips of his feathers are white-grey.

• he wears a cat ear beanie!! Loves cats!!! Loves all animals actually. Give that boy an animal encyclopedia and he's RIVETED for HOURS

• his Haki is.... very strange. His range for Observation is outright NUTS and nobody expected to have a nonverbal cyborg baby going into a sensory overload every time he tried using his Haki. ((His abilities there are currently disabled btw))

• loves music

• kind of clingy all things considered. Atlas is real hesitant about trust but once you've gotten into his I Trust You Group, he's following you like a duckling.

As for reactions -

Buggy

• this is... it's complicated, okay? He's doing his best but seeing the kid initially gives him.... so much anxiety. On the one hand, the carefully cultivated persona he's crafted is now going to inevitably implode. It's already well past salvaging as is, but smth about having the final nail in the coffin makes his chest knot up.

• is very patient and doesn't treat Atlas any differently from any of the other seraphim. That's a kid, they're ALL kids, and Buggy's a clown - making kids happy is literally in the Code.

• he will forget sometimes that not everyone knows sign language so he and Atlas will be absolutely going HAM about something and get really confused and/or offended when someone interjects or asks what they're doing.

• he absolutely calls Atlas smth like "my little mime" or "mime of mine", and it makes people melt. Carries him ((and the others as needed)) around, usually on his hip, can and will pepper faces in kisses and swing them around to get squeals and laughter.

• mama buggy supremacy need I say more /hj

Mihawk

• was certainly not expecting this. Like. At all. Hawkeye Mihawk was blindsided.

• ngl was very hesitant on having ANOTHER vulnerable party on the island, especially one so.... small. His own seraphim and Crocodile's seemed so intimidatingly tiny and then this little guy just.... proves everything wrong there. Holy fuck.

• when he realizes Altas's Haki is so sensitive, he asks Buggy what he does to cope. When he finds out Buggy always just.... locked it down, he's flabbergasted. Makes it his MISSION to research oversensitive oberservation haki. His spouse and tiniest child deserve better.

• is very good with Atlas's sensory needs and winds up also encouraging the other seraphim to be more open as well. None of these bitches are neurotypical.

• if asked, he will deny getting a little choked up when Atlas, Birdie and Angel each called him some variant of father. He did though. He absolutely did.

Crocodile

• he's too big and cool and wealthy for feelings (/j). But if he did have them, he'd be extra soft with Atlas. Angel and he click due to many reasons. He and Birdie are decently close. He and Atlas are... a little different. For one, the tiny little clown lunarian is so.... well..... tiny. And quiet. He likes small, cute, quiet things.

• he spoils all of the kids absolutely, but if anyone asks, he'll gut you. Stop. He has a reputation damn it.

• considered getting an AAC book, not only for Atlas but definitely considered heavily with the kid's presence and needs.

• was a little concerned with all the little red flags from all the kids, but ESPECIALLY from Atlas - especially because he can see the red flags now in Buggy too, now hidden under layers upon layers of masking. Reptile man is doing some math here.

• sometime the world gets a little too Much for Atlas, and Crocodile will never admit to the Emotions that come up when the kid creeps up to him, tugs on his pants leg, and signs 'hide, coat?' He let's the kid take as much time as he needs and does NOT stop to think on the ramifications of being considered a Safe Place for him ((He thinks it a lot))

BONUS REACTIONS

Angel

• the Oldest of the seraphim because he came out first so OBVIOUSLY he's the biggest and oldest. Takes his role as Big Brother VERY seriously

• weird mix of VERY protective and Cain Instinct. He'd never ever ever hurt Atlas but sometimes his baby brother is just........ so very.......... smackable.............

• learned sign in the lab a little later than the others, uses it far less, but knows most of the swears.

• complains about how ANNOYING having brothers is but if anyone else complains about his brothers, he'll throw hands.

Birdie

• still thinks he should be the oldest since he was STARTED first and only came out after Angel due to technical issues, but whatever

• still deciding on his name but is very tempted to follow Atlas's example and pick something Cool and Mythical. Is debating Avalon but isn't sure he wants to commit to the accidental A-theme they'd have going on.

• he learned sign the first after it turned out Atlas couldn't or wouldn't talk. Played it off as a useful skill to have anyway. Secretly a big softie.

• he's the type to wordlessly take Atlas's hand in a crowded area to make sure he "doesn't get lost or kidnapped", tries to play it cool but always flutters his wings that little bit more when a smaller hand holds his own just a lil tighter.

• preens the others far more, but absolutely keeps any spare feathers bc he knows Atlas likes them.

• milder Cain Instinct but he can and will bite with and without warning. Not even always aggressive either. Sometimes he just loves someone so much he just noms

• usually keeps Atlas company when he's overwhelmed and needs to decompress - he's either a cuddle buddy or a silent sentry if protection. Anyone who tries to interrupt gets stabbed

[solitaireships]

Love Letters

I've had this fic on the back burner for a little bit, but I got it finished now! It spawned out of the idea of Curly leaving little notes for Lyra that he loves her, so I thought I'd turn that into something a little more

Rating: Gen

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1202 words

Divider by saradika

Content warning: mentions of medical stuff

As soon as Lyra leaves the kitchen, she gets hit with a rolled up paper ball. It startles her out of her thoughts, falling to the floor before she manages to get her mind to process she should pick it up. 

Life has been different in the months since Curly was able to come home. If nothing else, she’s glad that he’s out of the hospital. It took time for him to get the help he needed, but he was able to get artificial skin grafts, and they were able to do enough to make sure he’s not constantly in pain. Still there have been growing pains though as they’ve had to figure out how to make navigating the house easier for him in a wheelchair and how to plan their days around some of the extra help he needs at home. 

At least Curly’s getting used to his new prosthetics. He’s still wobbly when he walks, but using a cane has helped to steady him. He always complains about how it takes up his hand, something far easier for him to do now that he’s been getting better with those prosthetics as well. Neither of them are sure if he’ll talk again, so they’ve started taking sign language lessons together. He’s still working on having the finer control of his prosthetics needed for that though, instead usually writing what he wants to say. His handwriting is different than it used to be, sloppy and unsteady, but Lyra’s glad either way that they’ve found a new way to talk to each other. 

In a way it’s nice. Lyra’s always liked reading and writing— her whole job is based around it. It’s nice that something she loves can now be helpful for someone she loves. 

Another good thing about Curly’s prosthetics is it’s clear from his throwing arm that physical therapy is helping him. He has good aim when he throws messages at Lyra to get her attention. 

She picks up his most recent message, uncrumpling the paper as she makes her way over to where he’s set up in the living room. He took off his prosthetic legs, presumably in an attempt to get comfortable, and rested them against the side of the couch. His eye follows Lyra as she makes her way over to sit next to him, half looking as if he’s trying to read the note along with her. 

“‘We should get dinner’?” she repeats. “Okay, what are you feeling up to tonight?”

Lyra knows meat’s not an option. Curly doesn’t want to talk about why, but he’s quit eating meat since getting back to solid foods. He’s told her a lot about what happened on the ship— of the ways he failed his crew, of the ways he wishes that he could have changed things, of how horrible every moment was for him after the crash. But he never wants to talk about the final moments he had before being put in the cryo pod, and that’s something Lyra decided she’ll never push him on. He’s been through enough as is, there’s no point in trying to make him relive something he clearly doesn’t want to think about. All that matters is he’s able to actually eat again, she knows he hated the feeding tube he had to use for a while. 

We should go out, Curly writes. He flips the page, then writes on the next, Your choice where. 

“We don’t need to. We’ve got plenty of stuff here, I could make that pasta with the mozzarella you like. Or if you want to order from somewhere, we can just get it delivered,” Lyra says.

She’s surprised that he would suggest going out in the first place. Curly hasn’t liked going out much lately. It’s hard to miss the looks people give him in passing, the mix of pity and disgust at how he looks. Lyra hates seeing how people treat him now that he’s disabled, and she knows that he hates being treated differently for it. She hopes he’s not just suggesting going out because he knows she misses when they used to go out on dates more often. She’s content enough staying home as long as it means that he’s comfortable. 

Curly shakes his head. Then he writes another note. We’ll go out. You pick where. 

“Okay, I—” Lyra pauses. She’s not really sure what she wants, and if this is what Curly would want too. “Are you in the mood for something?”

He shakes his head again. 

You pick. It’s my treat.

“Alright then. Did, uh, did anything bring this idea on?”

Before the crash I told you I would- Curly pauses, letting Lyra read before flipping the page- take you out to dinner when I got back. 

Thinking about the day Curly left feels like decades ago. There’s a bittersweet feeling to it, with hindsight making it one of their last moments together before their lives changed. But Lyra remembers what Curly’s talking about— he had told her he would take her out to a nice dinner when he got back, and that he would make up for half a year’s worth of kisses. Both those gestures had fallen by the wayside in the months since he’s gotten back. There have been other priorities, and they wouldn’t have even been able to do either of those until recently. 

Maybe him bringing this up is a sign that they’re starting to get back to a sense of normalcy. Lyra knows that healing isn’t linear, but maybe this means that things are getting better. It’s not the same as it used to be, but they’ve been getting into a new routine. Things are becoming regular again, and she hopes that they’ll stay that way.

“Okay. How about that Chinese place over on Kingston? I’m in the mood for dumplings,” Lyra suggests. That and she knows they have plenty of vegetarian options that should work well for Curly. 

Sounds good. And remember I’m paying, he writes. 

“Thank you.”

I love you, Curly writes. He tears out the page from the notebook, offering it to Lyra. It’s practically a routine at this point— he gives her every note he writes saying he loves her, telling her it’s because he wants to make sure she always knows it. There’s a stack of love letters slowly building up on her work desk, and she keeps one in the pocket of her jacket, in her purses, in her nightstand. Everywhere she goes, she always carries a bit of Curly’s love with her. 

“I love you too,” Lyra says. She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Let me get my keys. Do you want to walk or use your chair?”

Chair. Get my blue beanie?

“Sure thing,” she replies as she stands up. She folds up the note Curly gave her, tucking it into the pocket of her pants. “I’ll be right back.”

It’s nice to think that the two of them are getting to go out to dinner together. Lyra can’t remember the last time they did. Hopefully this will be the first of many nights out together, and hopefully his love notes to her will never stop. 

[chaotic-on-main]

Chapter 1: November

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, eventual smut (these update with every chapter)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! This is my first time writing fanfiction in a loooooong time, like the last time I wrote was probably in 2011. So with that said please be kind with any feedback or comments. I hope you enjoy! (also I made Hange's pronouns she/her/them/they)

Edit (11/27/2023): Hey guys, welcome to my little world of Unspoken Words. I have quite literally used this story as a way to better myself as a writer. As you read on, you may find that I've progressed (ofc I have a long way to go) but because of that, my first few chapters might be rough. With your patience, you may find a liking to this story as I know I've loved writing every word of it.

☾ word count ➼ ~7.1k

20-something years ago 

You’re not sure how, but you find yourself sitting in the back of a big, white van. Red and blue lights danced in your eyes, and it felt like a thousand people surrounded you. Something plastic is placed on your face then you are instructed to breathe in deeply. You thought it was funny to be told to breathe, like you don’t just do it naturally, but you follow instructions regardless. It’s hard though, every part of your body hurts, chest included. Every breath you take feels like your insides are on fire.  

‘Fire’, you think.  

Everything is on fire.

 ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Present Day

Levi stood blank faced as he meticulously cleaned the blender station for what felt like the 100th time today. The late afternoon rush had just tapered down so he took advantage of the next to empty café to clean as much as he could before closing for the evening.  

“It’s 20 degrees outside, how are people still wanting frozen drinks.” he murmurs to himself, placing the blender back in its spot. Levi turns to the front counter and slings the towel he was using to dry things onto his shoulder.  

His best friend, roommate, and business partner could be seen restocking some books on tall shelves, a gentle smile lighting up his boyish features. It’s been about a year and a half since they started this business venture together and they had no idea at the time how successful their bookstore-café combo would be in this small town.  

Erwin’s thirst for knowledge kept their shelves as variable as ever while Levi’s love for perfecting the art of tea kept the drinks flowing. The problem, however, was Levi’s lack of people skills. He was seldom seen at the register, nor would you ever see him smile or talk to the customers. He often would leave you with a grunt and a swift turn after handing off the drinks.  

No, for that, they had hired a couple of local highschoolers to do the facing work.  

“Mr. Smith, Levi?” a soft voice rang out to the left of him. Levi shifted his attention to a taller girl with shoulder length raven hair standing next to him. Being as Mikasa is his cousin, they found early on how weird it was to be called ‘Mr. Ackerman’ as they shared the same surname. It was this connection too that got them to where they are today.  

“Would it be okay if Eren and I take off a little early tonight? We have some big tests coming up and we’d like to take some extra time to study.” Mikasa shifted her dark eyes to the darkening windows as the sun set just over the horizon. Pinks and oranges flooded the partially clouded skies.  

”Tch.” Levi could not help but roll his eyes. He raised a brow at her and leaned back against the counter behind him for support. “Sure, I guess,” he continues. “But do you really need it or is it for that blockhead?”  

As if summoned by his words, Eren comes up from behind Mikasa and wraps a red scarf around his girlfriend’s neck, both of their jackets hanging off one of his arms. Eren is a good kid, always on time and followed directions, but the amount of sass he held in his body was something else. Levi and Erwin did not mind though, as he added a certain energy in the café that the customers seemed to enjoy. The two men wouldn’t say it out loud, but they really appreciated having them both on the team.  

“Hey, I heard that. And yes, I need to study desperately. Econ is so hard and for what?!” Eren’s teal eyes widened for emphasis. To add to it he even put on a fake pout.  

“I-”  

“Just take the trash with you on the way out and you’re good to go.” Erwin piped up from behind a bookshelf.  

Mikasa nodded in acknowledgement towards the voice, a silent thank you. Like Levi, she was not one for many words. He once thought it was an Ackerman thing but then he thought back to his annoying uncle and changed his mind quickly.  

With that, she and Eren both untangled the aprons from their bodies, grabbed their belongings, and picked up the trash bags that were already taken out of the cans. They opted to leave through the back since the dumpsters were located that way. Again, Levi wouldn’t say it to anyone out loud, but he really did like those kids.  

Erwin could be heard stacking more books into the shelves which left Levi to polish the counters again. It was the last hour before they closed so it stayed quiet for the most part, only interrupted by the sounds of scuffling shoes and books being placed on hard surfaces. Light jazz filled the rest of the silence. Then the bell signifying new customers rang from the front.  

“Levi, can you grab that?”  

The raven-haired man just huffed in response then stepped over to the register. His eyes fell on two figures right in front of him. A frazzled brunette and... you.  

Due to the season, you are bundled up in a thick parka and knitted beanie. A big scarf wraps around your neck and face so that all Levi could see is your flushed cheeks and thick lashed eyes. Truthfully, you reminded him of a marshmallow.  

“What’ll it be?” he asks, deadpan. The brunette is the one to respond, the voice loud enough to make him wince.  

“Hmmm... well one English breakfast tea latte with lots of room for sugar aaaaand I’ll take a peppermint hot chocolate. Oh, and extra whip! We’ll drink it here.” She fished out a card with a dramatic thwip and handed it to Levi’s outstretched hand.  Their café is one of those where if you were to stay, they offered washable cup ware as to keep the prices down on disposable cups. Not to mention the lessened ‘environmental impact’ as Erwin would say.  

Levi glances at you before turning to make both orders. You give a small wave and smile a little, but he was already working quickly on the drinks. 

He went into autopilot as he steeped the tea and steamed the milk. He really appreciated customers that ordered anything outside of coffee, especially when it came to tea. It’s not that he hated coffee, though it’s not like he liked it either, but it just wasn’t his thing. Coffee offered a different kind of bitterness that he wasn’t very fond of. With extra whipped cream in one and extra space in the other, he whirled around to place the drinks on the counter.  

The one with glasses is the one that picks them up and they promptly walk in the direction of where you currently sit, one of the tables in the back corner by the window. You were stripped of your big parka and scarf, though the beanie stayed. Your eyes were wandering around the café in wonder, and Levi was pretty sure this had to be your first time here. But truthfully, he wouldn’t know, he didn’t make it his business to know his customers. That was Erwin’s and the kids’ job. 

“The shelves are full and I’m exhausted.” Erwin came around the counter with a couple of empty boxes in his arms, heading straight for the back to the dumpster. Levi stepped back and leaned against the counter once again, his own black tea that had steeped while making yours cradled in his fingertips. He kept looking at his only customers while he sipped the black liquid. The teacup almost slipped out of his grip as he saw you dumping a large amount of sugar into your cup.  

 There you sit, extremely focused on the cup in front of you and lips pressed together tightly, almost as if you were afraid you’d put in too much. The sight would have been funny if you hadn’t just ruined your entire tea, he thinks to himself. You smile to yourself in satisfaction and put the sugar jar back where it came from. While you stir the sweetener in gently, the brunette in front of you talks animatedly. Hands were flying everywhere, and Levi could practically feel the energy radiating from the corner of the room.  You were doing the same, silently laughing. 

Suddenly the front door flew open, the bell ringing loudly with it. Levi grits his teeth, steeling himself for yet another customer interaction. But his shoulders dropped in relief at the sight of only Carly, Erwin’s girlfriend. She saunters up to the counter with a big smile aimed towards Levi and without even asking she slid behind the bar. Erwin had already made it from the back and was in the process of putting away the leftover ingredients from the day. Carly wraps her arms around her boyfriend and plants a big kiss on his face, to which Levi quickly looks away. It wasn’t weird for her to come in right as they were about to close.  

What was weird, he thought, was the shock that flooded your face as you eyed the very public display of affection. Levi knit his brows in confusion as the brunette pivoted in her seat to see what you were staring at. Their face fell, any evidence of a good time completely erased.  

“Carly?”  

The person in question whipped around so fast at the voice and the panic that exuded from her was palpable. She quickly unwrapped herself from Erwin’s embrace.  

“Hange.”  

If it wasn’t for the jazz in the background, the lengthy silence that followed would have been deathly.  

Carly clears her throat and laughs awkwardly.  

“Uh, why are you here?”  

The person named Hange just lifts their hot chocolate cup awkwardly, not really saying anything. Their eyes shift between Carly and Erwin, clearly understanding what had happened.  

“I-I’m sorry, you guys know each other?” Erwin sounds cautious, like he already knew the answer. Of course, he would, he isn’t dumb. His piercing blue eyes survey the situation, going back and forth between the two.  

“Well, uh. I-” Carly stutters, clearly at a loss of what to say in the predicament she found herself in.  

“She’s my girlfriend.” Hange claims calmly.  

This admission makes Erwin sigh heavily, confirming what he had pieced together. Levi stared at him in bewilderment as the man just chuckled quietly.  

“Well. I suppose that’s it then.” And with that he turns on his heel and stalks off to the back room. 

“Wait, Erwin I can explain!” She follows right on his heels and disappears into the back room as well. A minute later you can hear hysterical crying and calm retorts reverberating from the back. If Levi could shrink into the cabinets to get out of this situation, he would. Instead, he focuses on the other party who were having a very quiet and rushed discussion. Well, a one-sided discussion, as he only heard one voice.  

Levi, realizing it was almost time to close anyways, rushes to close the distance between him and the front door. He really did not want to have to deal with other customers while the drama unfurled. So, he flips the door sign to ‘Closed’ and unplugs the ‘Open’ neon sign hanging in the window. A couple walks by about to open the door, probably out for a café date from the looks of it. But they were only met with a dead stare from the sharpest eyes they’d ever seen. With that, they briskly turned around and left down the sidewalk.  

Levi spins around and from here he gets a better look at the two trapped customers. You were moving your hands all over the place like you were earlier. But with an even closer look he realizes you weren’t just talking animatedly with your hands; you were talking with them. You were signing. 

You reacted to your partner’s conversation just fine, so it was clear you had some sort of hearing. Your scarf now hung loose around your shoulders, and it looked like you had tears brimming in your eyes. Levi swiftly walks back to the counter; this is obviously not a conversation he needed to be a part of.

“Hey, don’t worry about me. It’s only been a couple of months. Really, it’s better to find out now than 3 years from now.” They laughed without humor. You know when Hange was saving face for your sake, she was never as sly as she thought she was.  

‘You don’t need to be strong right now.’ You sign then reach your hand out to touch her cheek softly. Physical touch had become your second language early on, if only to emphasize. Fortunately, Hange was okay with that and often embraced it with open arms.  

“I know, my little strawberry. I just need some time to process everything.” They pat you on the head lightly with a small grin. You swat their hands, blushing at the nickname you were so graciously given so many years ago.  But you nod back, knowing they would not change their mind.  

The tall blonde glides through the back door, alone. His face was grim as he tugged loose the tie around his neck.  

“Hange, was it?” He started walking towards you and your very startled sister.  

“U-uh yeah. That’s my name! Listen I had no idea, I’m so sorry. I would have said something obviously but-”, they take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”  

“Erwin Smith. There is nothing to apologize for as I can only assume there’s only one blame to be given. I hate that we must meet under such a circumstance, but it is truly nice to meet you.” He raises a hand waiting for a handshake.  

Hange takes it after a second of processing, shaking the hand vigorously with both hands.  

“Well, unfortunately it is what it is. I’m sure Carly and I will be speaking soon. I’m assuming she’s not just hiding back there.” They flick their gaze to the back door he had just come through.  

“Ah well, yes. Long gone... how long were you two...?”  

“Only like, 3 months or so. You?” 

He flinched at that and murmured, “3 Years.” 

Thinking back to her comment not 10 minutes ago, Hange bit their cheek.  

“Oh man I’m so sorry.”  

“No, please. It’s alright. None of this is yours or my fault. We couldn’t have known, but now we do.” Erwin chuckled to himself. You wonder if he’s trying to save face the way your sister did. His gaze now shifts to you. He is a very handsome man. To your extreme surprise, he starts signing to you. 

‘I'm sorry, who might you be? I noticed you signing earlier. I know a little from the books I have read.’ His crystal blue eyes sparkle at you as he signs. You can’t help but break out into a huge grin. You sign your name back and compliment him on his raw signing form.  

‘I am of hearing, though. So please feel free to talk, and I will sign back.’ You clarify to Erwin, the smile not falling from your face.  

“That sounds like a plan. Levi, stop hiding behind the counter and come say hi.” Erwin calls out, not bothering to look over his shoulder. You hear a grunt in response and not 10 seconds later, the barista stands cross armed next Erwin. He nods a hello to each of you.  

You knew he was shorter than you, at least a couple inches, based off the interaction at the counter earlier. But seeing him side by side with his friend was almost comical. But as short stature as he was, it did not keep him from holding himself with such authority. It made you nervous.  

‘Thank you for the tea, it was very good.’ You sign, your sister translating in real time for you.  

“Tch, are you sure? I saw you dump enough sugar in it to make it syrup.” Levi retorts dryly.  

That makes you smile sheepishly. His fixated stare unnerved you a little, but you stare back regardless. Now that he was closer, a glass case no longer between the both of you, your eyes traveled along his face in close inspection. 

He’s beautiful, you think to yourself. His features are sharp and angled. Steely gray eyes pronounced a permanent exhausted look. It was a shade of gray you’ve never seen before, and they were mesmerizing. As if he could feel you staring holes in his face, he flicks his eyes to the side, clearly uncomfortable. But you can’t help it, because really the most intriguing thing about him was not his metallic eyes. It was the scars that marred his porcelain skin.  

A couple of scars ran down the right side of his face. The prominent of the two trailed from the top right of his forehead all the way down to his chin, cutting into his right eye and both lips. You’re pretty sure his eye was quite damaged due to the slight muted discoloration of the eye color.  

He’s beautiful, you repeat to yourself. You glance over to Hange, and they just look over at you with a knowing look. You know she was just begging to ask Levi too, but she just shakes her head. So, you fold your hands together and pinch your lips together.  

“Well!” Hange yells out, breaking the silence. “This human really needs a drink. Let’s all go! Erwin, I demand you let me treat you to a couple drinks!” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and laughs.  

“A drink sounds fantastic; I will gladly take you up on that offer. Let me just close up rea-” He’s cut off by Levi raising both of his hands up in protest. You notice the two missing fingers on his right hand. The pointer and middle were gone. Whatever this man went through, you just had to know. But you toss those questions onto an ever-growing pile and bite your cheek.  

“Erwin, I can close up. You go ahead.” Your sister just smiles widely and practically jumped up and down. The blonde man just clapped his hand Levi’s shoulder and smiled at him.  

“Thank you. You’ll join us after? The usual place?” Levi just shrugs his shoulders in response.  

Part of you hoped he would. You couldn’t place a singular reason why though.  

.

Fifteen minutes later, the three of you found yourselves in a well-lit and very crowded bar. Somehow Erwin had snagged a table near the back wall. Heavy rock blares loudly from a live band maybe 20 feet away. Overwhelming was an understatement, but you grit your teeth and sit down on one of the stools.  

“Whatcha want, my darlings?!” Hange yells over the music, slapping both hands down on the table and staring at the both of you.  

“Whiskey neat, whatever they offer is fine.”  

You sign the words ‘apple’ and ‘juice’ followed by a ‘thank you’. You’ve never been one for a drink. While it was tolerable to be around, you’d rather not have to taste it if you could help it.  

Looking around, you see all manners of people surrounding you. Something about it makes your stomach turn but you shift in your seat to quell it down. You’re sure it’s only so crowded because of the prospect of a Friday night and the promise of no plans the following day. The town of Jinae was not anything special, but it was quaint. You and your sister found out quickly it was a place where everyone knew mostly everyone. After only settling down here from your hometown 5 months ago, you were still learning of all the local spots.  

From the looks of it, this bar was one of those. “The Scouts” was an inviting place, decorated with dark greens and wood tones. The walls were littered with many frames of a lot of different people. You imagine it might have been local residents in various locations of the town. All of the wood was worn down, so it was clear this place has been in business for a while. A neon sign hangs above the stage where the live band played, something that resembled blue and white wings. It makes you wonder what the significance is.  

Your thoughts are disturbed as a glass is placed in front of you. Realizing the dryness in your throat, you pick up the glass and take a big swig of the amber liquid. You’re met with a burning sensation, and you gag. This alerts Hange of the unfortunate mistake.  

“Ah I’m sorry my little strawberry!! They do look quite similar though, don’t they?” They switch the glasses quickly and laugh. You notice the very noticeable cup size differences between the two and you stare at her quizzically. “I may have taken a shot while at the bar, sorry.” she adds on. It makes you shake your head, but you grab her hand reassuringly and chuckle.  

‘I’m sorry.’ You sign at Erwin, and he just smiles back.  

“Not a problem. But I have to ask, how was it?” A bushy eyebrow raises at you in amusement.  

You just stick your tongue out and make a gagging gesture at him. You laugh though, not really upset.  

Two apple juices in, the live band ends. Hange and Erwin are very deep in conversation, which you suspect might be about Carly. You can’t really hear what’s being said though. With the absence of music, chatter quickly fills the air. Honestly it was really starting to get to you. So, after tapping on the pair’s shoulders and signing where you were going, you find yourself leaning over the guard rail just outside the bar’s door.  

The sun was already far gone. A crescent moon sits high in the sky and a smatter of stars surrounds it. The cold air felt very welcome on your very flushed face. You exhale a big sigh, which garners a puff of steam. It makes you laugh so you do it again. Then you start to wonder how long you might be able to last out here before getting frostbite when suddenly a body starts leaning against the rail next to you.  

With a start, you whip your head to face the newcomer. Instantly you relax at the sight of Erwin’s friend. He was adorned in a big peacoat and his casual slacks. A tan turtleneck sweater peaks out from the jacket’s collar. His face was flushed as well, no doubt from the cold.  

Levi. 

He wasn’t paying you any mind though, instead his gaze laid upon the sky above, at the stars. You wave at him anyways and offer a small smile. He glances at you with a side eye and returns a curt nod.  

Not one for words. 

So, you both stand there in silence, staring up at the twinkling lights above. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. Something about his presence radiated a sort of calm, and you were happy to bask in it.  

After a few minutes, he shifts his weight in your direction, so you face him. He’s staring up at you and it makes you swallow hard. His eyes glowed silver from the moonlight. Truly you have never been this fascinated with a person until now.  

“You like the stars.” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement.  

You nod in agreement, smiling to emphasize your love for them. He purses his lips at that. It seemed as if he wanted to say something else to that, but nothing came out. It just makes you frown a bit. You just have more questions that keep piling up. Everything about him just emanated mystery and it made you want to know all about him.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to him, exaggerating your frown to show your concern. You’re only met with a look of confusion. You forget that he does not know much if any sign. And you kick yourself for leaving your communication tools at home. To be fair though, this is not where you expected to be tonight.  

You then get an idea to use your phone to type to him but before you even reach into your pocket, you’re interrupted by a sudden blast of warm air as a couple stumbles out of the bar, both in a giggling fit as they cling to each other. They take off down the road, laughing even harder. The brief warm air makes you shiver, reminding you of the cold outside.  

As if thinking the same thing, Levi catches the door before it closes and holds it open for the both of you. You’re suddenly well aware of the very loud singing happening from within and your eyes widen at the familiarity of one of the voices. You and Levi make your way to the voices and are greeted with the sight of Erwin and Hange duetting a Backstreet Boys song.  

What a sight it was. The tall brunette, face flushed and glasses askew, had their arm around Erwin. He his blonde hair was quite tousled, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. They both swayed together as they belted out the lyrics. As if their smiles were contagious, you felt yourself grin. It was kind of cute. So, you pull out your phone and snap a quick picture, sure to show Hange in the morning. It was a good thing too, because the song ends right as you put your phone away in your bag. Levi clicks his tongue and huffs. You glance over at the noise and notice a small upturn to the corner of his scarred mouth. Noticing your gaze, his face vacates itself from any emotion as he stares back ahead.  

“Oi! Eyebrows!” He calls out to his friend. Levi starts making his way to the stage, walking with a slight limp. Yet another question to add onto the pile. “I’m gone for 45 minutes and you’re already singing.”  

“I’m fine! Just a couple drinks in.”  

You all make your way to the table you had laid claim to earlier. You survey the table and count at least 6 more glasses, not counting your two. It was hard to see who drank what.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to your sister, concern etched on your face. They just nod lazily and give a thumbs up with both hands. Levi is regarding you with a look of understanding, and it seems he realized that you had asked him outside.  Music starts playing over the speakers again, and people start making their way to the dance floor. Hange squeals and downs the rest of her drink quickly.  

“Erwin let’s go!” She grabs his arm, not waiting for a response. He gives a mock salute to the two of you and follows without question. Levi just clicks his tongue again and heads to the bar to get himself something. So, you plop yourself down on the stool and stare out into the room. Out of nervous habit you start fidgeting with the napkins in front of you. A moment later, Levi’s hobbling over with a tray of drinks. 

“I got the idiots some water, they look like they need it.” He places the glasses down with a thud, including one of his own housing some sort of caramel liquid. Then he’s sliding something over to you and you’re about to protest that you don’t drink but you realize it’s not a glass. It’s a notepad and pen.  

“If you need something, this might come in handy.” is all he says.  

You’re quick to show your appreciation with a bright smile. You also note to yourself that you could have very well have used your phone to communicate but you were not one to disregard someone’s thoughtfulness. It makes something bloom in your chest, warm and comforting.  

Your many years of not having a phone of course meant writing – a lot. Your handwriting evolved plenty with time so that meant it was extremely neat. It had to have been so that the reader would be able to read it without an issue. 

First you write your name, as you realize no one had really said it out loud while at the teashop. Following that you add ‘I think your shop is wonderful, and I really did enjoy the tea you made.’ You also want to jot down the questions from earlier that were still swimming in your mind, but you hold yourself back. You tell yourself maybe later, granted if there would even be a later.   

When angling the paper so he could see it, his eyes flit across the words quickly and you’re given a grunt in acknowledgement. Pulling back the notepad, you bite the inside of your cheek. While it wasn’t awkward being next to him, he sure made it hard to talk to. His cold demeanor gave you the feeling he wasn’t the type to talk about himself, especially with someone he just met. So, asking questions about him or his life was out the window. Likewise, he did not really seem interested in hearing your life story, not like you were planning to spill it anyways for fear of being met with disdain. You had plenty of experiences with that growing up.  

Tapping the pen against your chin, your eyes drift around the bar room. There a multitude of people lingering about, shouting over each other to be heard. A couple sits in a corner, whispering who knows what to each other. Both of their cheeks are flushed and eyes heavy with lust. A handful of people are on the dance floor grinding away, your sister and new friend sticking out like a sore thumb as they dance with reckless abandon. All of this gave you an idea, remembering something you’ve read before many moons ago. You start scrawling on the paper again.  

‘Are you a gambling man, Levi?’ 

You shift the pad back over to him and he glances down again after taking another sip of his spirit. He was holding his glass in a way you’d never seen before and honestly it was a little weird.  

“Tch, hardly. Why do you ask?” He looks hard at you as you scratch something else down.  

‘I propose a game to pass the time. Let’s make some bets about the random people in this room.’ 

He looks at you incredulously. You stand your ground, not averting your gaze even a little. When you don’t back down, he just scoffs and shakes his head at you.  

“I literally could not care less about these people,” he clicks his tongue. “But I suppose there’s not much else to do so I’ll bite.” Knocking back the rest of his drink, he moves around you to lean back against the wall so that he is facing the rest of the crowd. You shift so that you are doing the same. You don’t overlook the proximity to the shorter man, nor the fact that your arms are almost touching. You start to scribble once more.  

‘Winner gets to ask the loser one question.’ As his eyes fall on your words, he seems a little taken aback. Levi seems to think for a moment, like he’s weighing his pros and cons.  

“One non-personal question.” He amends. You both nod in agreement. So, your eyes travel around the room, looking for your first target. It falls on a group not so far away.  

‘I bet that gaggle of young girls over there are here for a bridal party.’

You point in the direction of the said group. Currently they were taking tequila shots, lime and all. All of them sparkled and were dressed up to the nines, save for the silly little hats adorning their heads. And they were having so much fun.  

“No way,” Levi scoffs, “That has to be a 21st birthday. They all look like babies.”  

Suddenly someone comes through a parting in the crowd with a tray of assorted colorful drinks garnished with cute little accessories. They all yell in excitement at the sight. One of the girls raises her glass and starts shouting.  

“To Estelle! May your married life be full of infinite love, happiness, and orgasms!” They all cheer and take big gulps of their drinks, followed by more giggling.  

Levi glances art you, his gray eyes dull in the dim bar light. An eyebrow lifts at you as well.  

“How did you know?” 

You do a sweeping gesture starting from one shoulder down to the opposite hip. He looks back over to the women and conveniently the soon-to-be-bride had faced your direction. She was indeed wearing a white sash sporting the word ‘BRIDE’ in bright pink letters. He huffs as he rolls his eyes, and you smirk at him in return. You press the pad over to him, already equipped with your question.  

Levi scoffs at your question. As promised, it wasn’t very personal. You figured ice breaker like questions were a good start. But his pause made you question if this was a good idea, you didn’t want to run him off or make him uncomfortable. Then he clicks his tongue, and his face softens ever so slightly.  

“My favorite hobby, huh? It would have to be cleaning.” He simply states. 

Cleaning?  

‘Like mopping, dusting, all that jazz?’  

“Yeah, it brings me peace. I like the control. Plus, I can't stand filthy things, people, or places. It’s repugnant.” He scrunches his nose at the last statement. A laugh bubbles up and you can’t help but let it loose. You’re shot with a glare and a sharp tone.  

“Funny?”  

You shake your head no and smile lightly while your hands move adeptly on the pad.  

‘Not funny, just amusing because it’s not something I would have expected. It’s different. If it makes you happy then it is an admirable hobby.’ 

Levi’s looking away from you now. If it wasn’t so dim, you would have seen there was a light dusting of pink color his cheeks and ears. He clears his throat and scans the room for his victim. His eyes land on the couple in the back corner whispering to each other. He notices their not-so-subtle hand movements as they felt each other up. Nodding in their direction, he looks back over to you, leaning close so you can hear.  

“I bet that couple will get up in the next 3 minutes and excuse themselves to somewhere private.” Your eyes travel in that direction, only to look away hastily at such an intimate scene. You’re not able to think of a counter-bet because honestly, you’re thinking the same thing. Your eyes settle back to his face, but he’s already looking back at the couple. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say. Suddenly his face is filled with a satisfied look, only to be replaced quickly with a look of horror. You follow his gaze again, afraid of what you might see.

Fortunately, it’s nothing risqué, as you catch the tail end of the couple slipping into one of the public, unmarked restrooms. But the thought of their future actions was enough to gross you out. Looking back at Levi, you scrunch your face up in disgust. He nods in understanding.  

“This is why we don’t use public restrooms, especially in a bar.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his good hand. “When I said somewhere private, I meant like a residence or something. Filthy animals, unbelievable. They better scrub that bathroom down. Maybe I should tell the bartender when they’re done. Maybe I should help clean.” 

His retorts crack you up, your shoulders bouncing from silent laughter. He just stares at you impassively as he runs his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face.  

“Well, it’s not like we should ruin their fun. Anyways I suppose I won. Let’s see... what’s your favorite color?” 

You part your lips, dumbfounded. This was never an easy question, as you found joy in a lot of different colors. You bite your lip and start writing, but after a couple minutes Levi rips the pad from your hands out of impatience.  

salmon 

turquoise? 

canary yellow! 

orange 

dark forest gre- 

He just looks at you in alarm.  

“Just pick one.” he scolds. 

You snatch the pad back and scribble down, ‘It’s not that simple!’  

“It is to me. White, easy.” You just stare right back at him, not believing what you just heard. Out of all the many shades and hues out there, this man decides the color white.  

‘Why?’ 

“It’s clean.” is the only response you get.  

It makes sense, you think. But seriously, this man was so weird. But like you said earlier, it was different and that made it refreshing to you. You start searching for your next bet.  

As if in a scene from a movie you’ve seen a dozen times came to life, your eyes snap to a lone woman sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and playing on her phone. A couple seats down, you spot a few men chatting. One of the men is staring hard at the very oblivious woman. You nudge Levi with your elbow, not unnoticing the slight flinch from your touch. You point to the scene, and he is quick to understand.  

“I bet when he walks over to her, she’ll get up and leave.” He says confidently.  

Trusting your instincts, you scrawl back quickly as you notice the man started making his way towards the woman. Sticking your tongue out at him, you angle the pad to him so he could see.  

‘Absolutely not. She’ll tell him off right away.’  

To both yours and his surprise, not one moment later she throws the rest of her drink contents onto the man’s head. She gathers her belongings, throws a wad of bills on to the bar, then stomps out of the establishment. The rejected man staggers back to his friends, and they applaud him for his supposed gall. This event left you both stunned. There’s a moment of pause where you and Levi just stare at each other before all hell breaks loose as he starts talking and you start scribbling furiously.  

“She walked away, I win.”  

‘She threw that drink on him, that’s practically telling him off. And that happened before any walking off.’  

“That hardly counts, no words were used.” He scoffs and folds his arms across his chest as he stares hard at you. You weren’t sure if the indignation was real or not, but it was evident in his face.   

‘Words are not always needed to convey intent.’ You shoot back at him, shifting your weight to tap your foot defiantly. You would know this of course.  

This makes Levi pause. He opens his mouth to say something but then Erwin and Hange came crashing into the little bubble you two had made. Suddenly the sounds of clinking glasses and mindless chatter came rushing in and you took a step back.  

“Um, I think Hange might have had a little too much tonight.” Erwin says, to which your attention is drawn to a very drunk Hange. They were a blubbering, sobbing mess. Whining about things that ranged from Carly to her work stress and everything in between. Your sister rarely got this drunk, but you imagine the events from earlier might have been her breaking point. This was a sign to get her home.  

You hastily round the table to wrap her arm around you and prop her up. Then after whipping a $20 out of your purse and throwing it on the table in front of the boys, you give them a grateful smile and sign to Erwin.  

‘Thank you both for tonight. She and I had a lot of fun. But I need to get her home before she gets worse.’ As if on cue, they let out a loud wail and start sobbing into your shoulder. You shift your body to hold them closer so that you don’t drop them. Erwin grabs your $20 and shoves it back in your purse before zipping it up. He had left you no time to protest as he places a large hand on your shoulder and stares intensely at you.  

“Please, let me take care of this. Tell them this was an exceptional time. And to please stop by the café again, we owe each a good, sober talk.” His bright blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you warmly. “It was a pleasure meeting you too. I hope you join Hange on the café visits as well. I think Levi has warmed up to you just nicely.” He wiggles an eyebrow at his friend. Levi just shoves him back and rolls his eyes.  

“Tch, fuck off. She’s alright, I guess.” He’s staring at you now, not as cold as before. “You owe me an answer next time we meet.”  

You purse your lips at him and shake your head in disagreement. 

‘I totally won that, don’t even think otherwise.’ You jot down lazily on the notepad still on the table. It wasn’t as neat, but you were propping up a whole human, you couldn’t help it.   

“Are you sure you’re safe to get home okay? We can he-” You cut Erwin off with a wave of the hand. Their spot of choice was actually very lucky, as you only live a few minutes away. And to be honest, you needed the cold air. So, you sign a quick goodbye to your new friends and make your way out. 

Walking down the snowy sidewalk, you pat Hange’s head as she grumbles about random things. She opted to walk herself, but you kept your hand in theirs to lead them in the right direction. She only stumbled a few times but overall, you were able to keep a steady pace. You note that before you left, her glass of water had been untouched, so you make a mental reminder to hydrate her before throwing her in bed.  

‘Alcohol was not kind to those in their 30s’ you heard their voice say in the back of your mind.  

As your steps left crunching noises in their wake, you peer up at the moon and glittering stars. A certain raven-haired and silver-eyed man etched in your brain. You wonder how soon it will be before seeing him again.  

‘Levi’ you sign to yourself with a free hand. A smile cemented to your face the whole way home.

☾ Next Chapter: December

[sunspotmangafan]

I hear the sunspot and disability representation: agency and respect.

Note I will be talking about ableism in media; if that is uncomfortable, feel free to scroll past.

So the other day I was watching your average media analysis videos on youtube and I came across this video that discussed disability representation, specifically in reference to deafness. I’ll be discussing it and such with how it relates to sunspot but I do recommend you check it out if you’d like.

There was the discussion of how in a fair amount of shows like medical dramas, when they have episodes that focus on a deaf/hard of hearing person and the decision of going with surgeries like cochlear implants that help them hear better, it seems as though the actual disabled persons opinions don’t matter because at the end of the day the kid is gonna get the ‘treatment’ to essentially ‘fix’ them in a way. If the person explicitly states they don’t want the implant, it doesn’t matter, they will ultimately get the implant because the narrative thinks it’s inherently better and will ‘help’/‘fix’ the person.

Like watching a video where they paint the parent who agrees with their disabled kid to not go with cochlear implants as a bad person/in the wrong.

Or shows going out of their way to give deaf characters surgeries like that to ‘fix’ them in a way. Such as deliberately not going to the parent that supports/listens to their disabled kid, or have the narrative change so that will make their child have the surgery that parent by the end as their arc.

It’s constantly giving “disabled people’s opinions and agency doesn’t matter because we as able bodied people know that they’re intently better if they’re more like us. Life will be inherently be better if they gonna conform to our world.”

I understand that ‘it’s better for you if you’re more like us’ mentality as an autistic person. But this so about Kohei and his journey in Limit as a hard of hearing protagonist.

In the Limit trilogy, a part of his arc is heavily considering getting a cochlear implant. The doctor goes over the pros and cons of it, and how even those who get it, they may not use it after the fact because it wasn’t for them or they experienced complications or whatnot, especially with how with many people who were deaf since birth (like ryuu), it’s not exactly gonna be always the best option. And how ultimately it is just a way to fit more into the hearing world.

And the most important thing here is this. KOHEI. GETS. TO. CHOOSE. FOR. HIMSELF!!!!

THEY LET THE DISABLED CHARACTER PONDER AND THINK FOR HIMSELF!! We don’t even get people ushering him to get one. In fact it’s mainly Ryuu who’s just like “dude you don’t need it”.

Ryuu is also great because he provides that push and extra perspective on his own terms using the language he’s most comfortable with to give himself the voice to challenge kohei’s internalised ableism.

(As Kohei said. He still looked down on those who couldn’t hear. He felt weak when he had to ask people to repeat themselves)

Also side note. IHTS really helps essentially destigmatise sign language. As the video says about the stigma around sign language. It’s nice to see people like Chiba, Ryuu and such be respected by the narrative when they talk about how they genuinely love the language. Kohei and Taichi are both endearing characters whose arcs involve learning to sign. Kohei starts to respect Chiba because he’s so good at not just signed Japanese, but actual JSL. It’s really refreshing!!

And you know what. While he did say that because he has late onset hearing loss, he was definitely drawn to the idea.

HE DECIDED NOT TO GET IT. AND THE NARRATIVE FUCKING RESPECTS HIM FOR IT!!!

They show that for Kohei, him getting better isn’t essentially a surgery to make him seem less Hard of Hearing. It’s about knowing he can be understood, and about knowing he can genuinely understand people, and that’s not inherently tied to hearing.

And they never act as though he’s made a grave decision, the narrative never acts like Kohei is in the wrong. It’s actually treating it like a happy ending, because it is, Kohei’s stopping thinking about a past where he may become completely deaf as though it’s inherently something he should try to avoid (a thing Ryuu helped him reconsider his personal feelings on which may have been shrouded in internal ableism) and start living in the present with a person that already respects, understands and cares for him, and who, at least now, he can hear as clear as day.

And we can’t help but be happy that he’s happy.

[autisticlee]

the thought of trying to make friends is so overwhelming anymore because it takes so much more work than I have energy for and at this point. but i'm so incredibly lonely and feel horrible every time I see a thing I want to do but either can't do alone or would struggle/not enjoy alone. I need the other person to do more of the work to compensate for my overwhelming autistic exhaustion. I can't be the one that does most or all of the work anymore. i'm experiencing extreme social regression, and I wasn't even good at it to start with. now i'm just incapable. but I want to go places and do things. just not alone 😭 going places alone is very overwhelming and I never have fun or enjoy it. (doesn't matter how much other people tell me they ~/go to/do things alone and have fun~ as if that will make me automatically have fun 🙄)

I need someone else to take the lead and be like "I'll be at your house at 9 be ready we are going to this thing" instead kf me having to plan it all and beg people to go and do all the work and try to get them to be on time and wait for an answer and not get one until it's time to leave and etc. I need to have plans ahead kf time and it stresses me out so much to have to make plans while doing the thing (like not finding a hotel until we are driving there) or someone saying we should do a thing and I tell them to figure it out and let me know but they do not. they expect me to or theybare extremely unreliable and it never happens.

it's too much I cannot do it anymore. I could barely do it before but I only did because i've been desperate for YEARS to have friends and forced myself to do things I couldn't do properly and ended up having a horrible time because I was so stressed out and !!!!!!!!! had to vent sorry. sighs. want friends without the extra work. only normal amount of work at most.

don't think anyone understands what I mean by I do all the work and no one else does anything. I have to always message people first, always carry the conversation because they respond with a few words or not at all. they never reach out first or ask me to do things. I have to make entite plan for everything. they give no input about it when asked. even though I don't know anything and stress out googling frantically and end up with bad plans that don't work right and ruins what we are trying to do. they often they complain about choices I made despite having no opnion before that.

they always say they don't know if they can go and will get back to me. I have to remind them 57483832 times just to always be told they don't know. the day of I am at the place and ask where they are and they are late or say they forgot to tell me they can't make it. or they said yes and cancel last minute. or they'll give a vague answer and end up unable but didn't just tell me and led me on.

or they last minute need me to pick them up. i'm always the driving friend when I honestly shouldn't even be allowed to drive because of my disabilities (I make major mistakes every time I drive and almost get into wrecks every time. surprised i havent....) and my car is old and falling apart and likes to random breaks down, so when it has issues, it adds to my frustration. most people live an hour away and the places we go are 2-6 hours away. i'm falling asleep while driving and they aren't keeping me awake like they promised they would. I'm making mistakes and going wrong ways and they aren't helping navigate me, but point out all the mistakes i do. following GPS on my phone is so hard! I always go the wrong way and take an extra 45 minutes to get places every time. but they don't feel like driving. and they dont care if we dont go. so it's my job to make sure we go and i'm forced to do a dangerous thing i hate and am very bad at.

they make me be the adult when they are more adult than me because they don't have as much a disability or maybe not at all? but they just don't feel like doing it and make me. they can talk to people just fine. I struggle to force out a few words and get misunderstood. I will go without food because I cant order it get food I didn't ask for and hate because i'm misunderstood. they don't help me and don't care that i'm having a meltdown and panic attacks. they think I should just do it alone. I put up with the sensory hell and try to ignore meltdowns as long as I can until they turn into shutdowns and I can't even function anymore and dissociate out of my body and out of the experience. and they have the audacity to say I look like i'm not having fun and get mad at me for being too quiet and not talking to and entertaining them, but won't help me get to a quiet place to sit and recharge. anything that goes wrong is my fault and they don't help. sometimes we get back late and I say they should just stay at my place because it's late and I cant take them home. they beg me to take them home. or if they drove to my house they just leave even though it's 3-4am. they can't wait to get away from me. at the end i'll say we should hang out again and they're like yeah ok, but never talk to me again.

i'm exhausted for a few months after so I can't message them. or anyone else. I feel like it all failed because I had to focus on way too much work and just shut down and dissociated and didn't get to "live in the moment" or enjoy anything at all. and I was boring so I didn't entertain them and they were bored. thinking hanging out with me isn't worth it.

yeah I get it, maybe they also struggle or whatever. maybe they need me to do all the work. but I cannot. maybe it's not *their* fault and they aren't actually being lazy and boring. but the problem is every person I try to befriend is like this. I need friends that ARENT like this! but the people that do the work I do won't be my friend! but I can't do this work anymore! if I DO get someome who does more of the work and let's me follow along, they get annoyed at me for following and being too quiet or awkward or weird and never invite me again.

also, I forgot to mention, I usually have to financially cover everything for them as well. I have to basically pay people to hang out. i've spent THOUSANDS of dollars on people just because I want to hang out and have to bribe them. i'm disabled. I work a part time minimum wage job for my family with my mom. cant get a real job. technically get paid less than I work but they get away with it because i'm powerless. I can barely afford anything and rely on my parents to pay for most basic needs, but can't convince people to spend money for me.

so it's not just "maybe people do this sometimes" or they have reasons for needing me to do all the work and I need to keep doing it. it's every single time!! and I cant keep doing it! but if I don't, I stay alone. I either can't do anything or go anywhere, or I force myself and don't enjoy or remember the experience because my struggling turns into dissociating and brain just shuts down. this leads to dangerous moments where strangers harass and attack me and I cant do anything. i'm not safe alone. but I can't have help or supportive and kind people in my life.

I need someone who is willing to do the work I can't do anymore and do all the work that needs done. i need someone who finds that stuff easy and dkesnt get tired and burnt out from it. I need someone to who keeps coming back and doesn't give up on me. I need someone who doesn't get bored and annoyed that I can't do all the work or act/respond "normal" and doesn't misunderstand me thinking I hate them or something. I need someone I have things in common with and doesn't just small talk or talk at me about stuff I don't care about such as making me their personal therapist since I'm good at listening. I need someone who doesn't get upset that I can't respond correctly or read their mind. I need soneome who enjoys doing things with me more than sitting around and talking. i need someone that let's me be part of things and includes me but doesn't force me to be the center of attention and leader. I need someome thst respects my needs and boundaries and supports me and helps me and doesn't let that push them away and abandon me! why is that too much to ask for???? why is that so hard??

[meefy]

2.,3.,5. and 14. for the roots game! any ans ocs but I would love to hear more about Xyvie :3

I'M SORRY THESE TOOK SO LONG i wanted to give as much detail as possible for all four of my AnS OCs and I hope you enjoy the Xyvie ones!

2. What was your OC's first job? Do they still work that job (or in that field), or do they do something else now?

Xyvie: she was too sick to work until she absolutely had to once her parents died, and they were no longer able to support her. She made and delivered cooked meals to the elderly, sick, or disabled residents of her small town. After moving to the royal palace in Tanbarun, she doesn't "work" so much as study (she wasn't able to go to school past what we'd consider late junior high) and she helps out the chefs once in a while!

Féanne: she wasn't allowed to work until she left home at the age of 24...she studied for two years and during that time in college worked as a scribe for extra money. Today she is Lata's trusty and beloved research assistant in the mineralogy department!

Feiran: he has been told all his life he needs to be a knight, and just sort of passively accepted it as his fate. Post-Féanne-fic, he goes to college and studies botany, and works with Yuzuri as her assistant in Lyrias.

Aleyan: a knight, like he was expected to be, then Vice Commander and finally Knight Commander of his knights circle. But,Feiran has been trying to get him to take charge of his life and decide what he truly wants to be.

3. How did your OC feel the first time they left home? Why did they leave?

Xyvie: afraid and overwhelmed mostly. She'd never been out of her village before except for shopping trips with her family. The circumstances of her leaving (going to the prince of her country to help solve her parents' murders) didn’t help matters either. She wasn’t used to such expensive, vast furnishings...

Féanne: elated and free. She left to pursue a higher education and make a career, rather than get married and help with the family business. She is very independent in that regard.

Feiran: he left for college both nervous but cautiously optimistic. He has a hard time settling in and thinking on his own without Féanne or Aleyan telling him what to do or believe; he doesn't settle in at Lyrias right away, as he is unused to seeing Féanne so independent and social. He ends up feeling a bit neglected and it takes some time for him to break out of his comfort zone and make his own acquaintances.

Aleyan: has never left home; as it stands, he will marry and live out the rest of his days in the family mansion - unless...

5. What did your OC think their life would be like when they grew up? Has it lived up to that expectation?

Xyvie: she had hope for a brighter future, and that the treatments and medical procedures her parents fought to pay for would grant her a new lease on life so she could work, go out, etc. Her parents' deaths and her failing health betrayed that hope. But she certainly never expected to marry the crown prince and move to the capital of Tanbarun...though once the shock of it all wore off, she's been settling in nicely.

Féanne: she dreaded her adult life, knowing she'd be destined to wed and stay put at her family's estate. Creating her own path, through studying and moving to Lyrias, has been her dream come true. And, meeting Lata (ie someone who loved and understood her for who she was) was an unexpected bonus to that.

Feiran: he looked forward to becoming a knight, until he realized it was not for him. But when he realized that, there was no going back, according to his father and elder brother - so he bowed his head and went along with it. But his sister encouraging him to leave gave him the motivation to try and forge his own journey towards happiness in Lyrias too. And though that move wasn't easy it did end up giving him the strength and independence he needed to succeed in his goals.

Aleyan: his life has played out exactly like how his family laid out for him...and though he'll never admit it, he wishes it hadn't. He’s never let himself think about what he actually wants vs. what others have told him he should want.

14. Who was your OC's first love? How do they remember that person now?

Note: where all of my OCs are aspec I am interpreting this question for both familial/platonic love.

Xyvie: she was very much a "daddy’s girl" as a young child so he’s likely who she’d consider her “first love”. Though as she got older they saw less of one another (he would work at the port town for weeks on end because travel was difficult), he continued to think of her often - he advocated for her strongly and vocally when she was unwell, and always brought her back treats and surprises from town when he returned home. She misses him dearly today and remembers, in fleeting and haunting images, how he tried to protect her when they were ambushed in the woods that night.

Féanne: her twin brother. He was the only person she could trust and rely on as a child; they were together since before they were born, so it only made sense. He remains her number-one person today.

Feiran: likewise, his twin sister Féanne…he is quite shy and reserved, and not overly demonstrative about it, but he cares for her more than anyone, enough that he chooses to shove aside his feelings of resentment and envy when she works up the courage to leave home for the first time.

Aleyan: he will tell you he loves his family above all else - that he wants nothing but the best for them. For Aleyan, the “best” is more materialistic - high status, great wealth, unlimited power. The way he shows it, however, is not really what one would consider love, and he feels mostly spite and resentment towards his twin siblings now…but that is mostly jealousy that they had the determination to stand up to their father and leave, and he did not.

15. What was comforting to your OC as a child? Do they still find comfort in that now?

Xyvie: she had a blanket her mother sewed for her as a baby that she slept with for quite a while. When she got older, the scraps of it became one of her favourite ponchos...so it continues to bring her comfort whenever she wears it.

Féanne: she'd stay up late at night, when her parents though she was asleep, with an oil lamp reading the books she'd secretly borrow from the kind elderly owner of a bookshop in town. She still loves to read, and doesn't have to hide away to do so anymore.

Feiran: counting his rock collection with his sister while hiding under his bed. Sometimes they'd play with them, building fortresses or sorting them by size, colour, etc. He gave his collection to Féanne when she moved out, but he takes comfort knowing she's putting it to good use in her studies.

Aleyan: cleaning his sword and doing reps. It made him feel special and important.

16. What does your OC's childhood bedroom look like?

Xyvie: she didn’t have one. Her family was poor and they shared the main living area as a “bedroom”, with an oversized futon that they’d roll up during the day or to receive guests. Xyvie got her own, smaller futon as an adult.

Féanne: what you’d expect in a high-end noble’s room: sheer curtains, queen-sized bed with a canopy and terribly-expensive linen and pillows, and a hand-carved desk to practice penmanship, with a few shelves for oil lamps and the occasional decorative plant or doll. The walls were otherwise painted a deep burgundy and had some oil portraits of herself and family on the walls. There was a dressing table with hair/skin products that she very rarely ever used (only when there were occasions she was forced to attend), and a walk-in closet with various fancy dresses that she also typically scorned. There was a small area with a canvas partition for bathing and changing. To her, it was very plain with no true personalization, and she hated it.

Feiran: very much like Féanne’s, except the walls were green, there was no dressing table (there was, however, a mirror and a few odds and ends), and there were hooks on the wall where he would rest his training sword. He also had a walk-in closet, with tunics and party attire. He was also permitted a shelf to display his rock collection, since it was considered an acceptable hobby for a young boy.

Aleyan: almost the same as Feiran’s, minus the rock collection. He also had a more varied assortment of training swords and shields, and a couple “real” metal ones, with some basic armour for training too. He also had a sewing kit on one of his shelves that one of the domestic workers (one of the ones who took a liking to Aleyan) let him borrow and showed him how to use thread and needle to hem one of his torn cloaks…and that eventually grew into his passion for sewing his own.

20. What were the most idyllic years of your OC's childhood? Does your OC miss those days?

Xyvie: riding in a coach with her parents and going into town to look at the marketplace down by the water. There was a baker’s stand she loved there, and her parents would set aside some money to buy her a lemon tart as it was her favourite. She misses those days greatly; she misses her parents and wishes she could spend that sort of day with them one more time.

Féanne: rolling around in the dirt with her twin brother, looking for rocks, bugs, cool sticks, etc. and overall ignoring her nannies’ demands that she keep her dresses neat and tidy. She especially loved seeing Feiran’s face light up when she was the one who found something particularly exciting. She misses that sort of innocence greatly, but she does not miss the sense of powerlessness she had when being scolded by adults for acting in “unladylike” ways.

Feiran: believing that he was going to be a strong, important knight like his brother and father, and that he'd earn their favour. He preferred spending time with Féanne growing up, but sometimes he liked to swing a stick or something around and pretend to be a warrior (like many children). He initially refused to start training until he was almost 13 (because he preferred to be with Féanne and she was not permitted to train as a knight) but he quickly realized he was not cut out for it…and by then he had been essentially threatened into continuing to train by his father and Aleyan, and it was too late. He prefers not to remember those days.

Aleyan: he was an only child until he was about five…and his parents took somewhat more interest in him then, taking him out to the knights training grounds to watch or for walks out on their family vineyard. But it was mostly nannies or domestic workers who looked after him; usually they'd bring him around the mansion to explore (as kids enjoy), and they'd let him help them sew, dust, bake, etc. Aleyan was much more curious and easygoing as a kid, and well-doted on as the firstborn son and only child. If he were to let himself reminisce on those days, he'd probably yearn for them quite strongly.

[bitter-limelight]

Time to sound like a cranky old person but,

I am begging gen Z to understand that you live in reality. Begging.

I work management in a job that attracts a lot of teens and young 20 somethings. It's an expected first job, not super hard, not super busy, but more involved than stocking shelves or bagging groceries. And I get some great kids once in a while, some young adults who are learning how to adult.

But I get more kids who are coming out of a post COVID terminally online cocoon who have never been given a realistic image of the world outside their Tik Tok screen and it's horrifying.

I routinely have kids who call out at least once a week because they're stressed, they're anxious, they don't feel good, they overslept, they stayed up too late (note that this is after I try to teach them that they do not need to tell their employer why they are calling out and that it's in their best interest to not share personal or medical information that can be used against them but they think saying they're sick will be a get out of work free card). I've had more than one employee who I find sitting on the floor in front of the customer area because they're tired or "just chilling". Several who tell me after they've been hired that they can't work mornings, can't work evenings, can't work more than 5 hours days or more than 3 days in a row. I've had several talk to me about how they need to prioritize their mental health and take a self care day today, and tomorrow, and two days next week.

And I'm WORRIED for these kids, because the thing is, they are right that capitalism is a soul crusher, that we are overworked, that we are expected to give too much, that we deserve better hours and better pay, that our mental health needs to be our priority. These are all true things, but they think they can step out of mom and dad's house and into a world where they will be given these things and that's just...not the world we live in.

When I get a new hire I tell them about what is expected of them, they sign papers about hours and call outs and attendence and how they can be fired for not following this (I have no power to hire or fire I just manage them at their work). And still I have 22 year olds crying at me in the bathroom because they got fired for calling out 13 days in a month. I have kids who don't understand why they can't just stand there on their phone "vibing." That they should be exempt from talking to customers because they have social anxiety and have to accommodate them (this is a customer service job, there is no accommodations for not interacting with customers ) "They can't fire me for being sick!" But they can. "They can't fire me, I'm disabled and need these accomodations!" But they can, because nobody ever taught you what a reasonable accomodation is. "But we have a union!" A union can't help you after you've been written up four times.

I try to be a good first job and first boss. You need an extra break? Sure, go grab a snack. A customer yelled at you? I'll handle it, go cool off then we will talk about what to do next time. If you have an emergency, talk to me, you can probably leave early. I try to be a buffer between these young people and the corporate machine above me, meeting them where they are while trying bridge the gap between their ideals and the reality they're facing. And I still have employees who quit, telling me they're over worked and this or that is illegal (it isn't, it's just unfair) and they're gonna go find a job where they're appreciated, only to come back a few months later and ask for their job back because everywhere else sucked too.

But sorry. You didn't put in your two weeks like I told you to so now you're non rehireable and banned from ever working at this brand again.

I admire Gen Z's desire for something better. I'm not here to be a corporate bootlicker. I'm here as someone who needs to work my ass off to make ends meet. I'm disabled, my options are limited. I've been fired for my disability, which is legal cause you can't prove that's why and do you have the money for a lawyer to fight them? I don't. I play the game, I get by, and I'm just honestly really worried for these kids who have big dreams of a better world but no idea how to get by in the one they are in. You gotta eat, you gotta pay rent, you gotta have heat and power and water. You have to survive while you work on a world where you can thrive.

This isn't "gen Z lazy, gen Z stupid, Gen z bad", this is gen Z, especially working class gen Z, disabled gen Z and queer gen Z is gonna be totally fucked if they don't learn some entry level work skills and how to not get fired from Costco

[broodsys]

yelling into the void

my biggest issue lately is a deep fear about my future being uncertain. i'm very disabled, i'm easily fatigued, and i know i wouldn't be able to do any kind of "typical" job, although i might be able to do a full-time office job, but it'd wear on me a lot at the same time, esp re: getting there and back

but i don't think that, realistically, i can just... avoid having a job. i need to work

and part of my big spiral lately is that i recently found one job that actually seemed feasible, and, bonus, like something i'd actually enjoy doing and had some experience with. i knew it was unlikely that i would get it, but i still hoped, y'know? i just really wanted this one thing to go my way. but, no. got rejected for it. and i've been really bad about applying around, but it feels so pointless, y'know? like there was a time i was submitting 40+ apps and getting nothing. so now i'm being choosier and trying to do better at them but it's still getting me nowhere

and i'm just. really scared and exhausted and demoralized

i've thought a lot about applying for disability, but there are a lot of limitations if i go that route. plus it would be a Process and i'll probably get denied multiple times and may have to fight to retain my coverage and all these other things

and yknow. unmedicated adhd sucks. it sucks! i have so much trouble doing shit but i'm wary of getting medicated rn because of the shortages and all, and i honestly think it'd be worse for me to find something that works and have it be taken away than to continue on with all my weird structures and routines that sorta-kinda work

add to that a lot of continuing tensions in my household, a lot of... i won't get into it, but health risk factors also in my household... and a serious inability to prepare food and eat well regularly that isn't even so much linked to my disabilities as it is to my family situation, it just sucks. it's hard af and there doesn't seem to be a way out except a job... which i can't get

and what's extra frustrating is that i actually want to work. i think having a job, so long as it's something i can do wrt my disabilities, would help me a lot, even aside from relieving the fear. i do much better with external structure. i try to build my own strict routines and that does help, but external stuff has always worked better for me. i've thought about returning to school but finaid is already a little :/ about giving me more money bc i've gone through the dental assisting program only to immediately return to school to get my BA, plus honestly i wouldn't even know what to do besides use school as an intermediary external structure

but i want to work. i want to do things. and in an ideal world, i want a job that lets me help - people, the environment, whatever, just to do some good. i want money that i can donate to causes. i want to have a sense of even relative security in my life and future. and i can't get that by doing nothing but holy shit doing anything feels so pointless rn

so yeah, that's the biggest, most immediate hurdle i gotta get over now. have to pick up my hope or at least my stubbornness and try again and fail again and try again anyway and it sucks so much and i'm so tired but there's no alternative

[creativitysparks4everxoxo]

I never make memes because I suck at making them, but I thought I'd try my hand at making one for TFE. This is so heavily inspired by that famous TFE meme that I first saw posted on reddit and then saw posted again on here. I felt that it needed a part 2 because the TFE haters have been extra exhausting lately. 😩

*This isn't just a meme post, this is also a scene playing in my head and basically a jumble of thoughts. Can you guess which character I represent? 🤣

EarthSpark haters: This show is woke garbage! The character designs are horrible and the voice acting is subpar! This show is grooming children and forcing gender politics onto our precious children blah blah blah! 😡😤

EarthSpark: A refreshing new take on the TF franchise that redefines what it means to be family, through the lens of a beautiful POC family that adopt a new species of Transformers called "Terrans". The Terrans are born on earth and are adopted into the loving Malto Family, where they form a strong bond with the Malto Kids, Robby and Mo. Although the show's main target audience is children, the enjoyment of this show is not limited to kids because many EarthSpark lovers are not kids, and this show is meant to be wholesome and action packed.

This adaptation shows the viewers that Decepticons are not inherently bad and being bad is a choice. We see that some Decepticons just want to live in peace and do not want to harm people, but because of the insignia that they wear, they are forever branded as the villain. However, despite this, some Decepticons are genuine friends with Autobots in this show, showing that at the end of the day, Decepticons and Autobots are still the same species and friendship goes beyond a label.

The first piece of TF media to introduce a non-binary character (the main cause of all the hate that TFE receives 😑), that is such an amazing character whose personality does not centre around their gender identity. As seen in the new batch of episodes released on March 3rd, that EarthSpark haters conveniently did not watch.

People who haven't seen it: I mean, it's pretty hard to form an opinion when we haven't actually watched the show yet. But we find the amount of hate that this show receives absolutely ridiculous. To hate on a show that you know nothing about, beyond the selective parts that you choose to hate is just sad. Maybe try watching the show first before you bash it? How do you know that Nightshade's personality will "centre around them being non-binary" if you haven't even watched the show yet? 🤨

How is this show "woke garbage"? Do you just have a problem with POC being the main humans? Or do you foolishly expect every piece of TF media to be identical to the G1 series or [insert preferred TF adaptation here]? Did you know that adaptations are meant to be a retelling of an existing story by incorporating new elements to further expand the story and offer a new take? Did you know that it's okay to add a variety of different characters from all walks of life, whether they are LGBTQ+, POC, disabled, non-binary, etc? These people exist in real life and it's good to teach kids this so that if they identify as any of these, they will know that it's normal and that they are not alone. They will feel seen!

We may watch TFE because it looks interesting and we like the Transformers franchise, and we want to see Transformers being Transformers! Or we may not watch TFE, but we won't bash it because we have not seen it!

EarthSpark lovers: We find the amount of hate that this show receives quite sad, because we absolutely love the direction that this show is going! We haven't had a TF show centred around family bonds since TFA! We really like the idea of a brand new species of Transformers being born on earth, and we like that they are adopted into the Malto Family vs just being seen as friends. This adds more depth and makes these characters even more interesting.

We find it cool that although the Terrans are these highly advanced, highly intelligent robotic beings, they still act like children and have their childish moments that consist of sibling rivalry, innocent naivety caused by them only being online for what, a few weeks in S1A? and other adorable childish moments.

This show may be marketed towards kids, but the amount of positive messages and themes shown is beautiful. Even more "sensitive" topics are present in this show, which is wonderful because kids should know about them.

Teamwork

Family bonds

Friendship

Giving second chances

Healthy discussions on gender identity

Racism

We like that TFE has given us G1 Daddy Optimus back, with his goofy dad moments. Too funny! And why is Bumblebee handsome AND adorable at the same time?!! 🥺🥺 He's just so precious in this adaptation!

We like the little details like Mo wearing a bonnet to bed to protect her gorgeous curls, or Robby being a hard-core gamer. Or Alex wanting to share his Filipino culture with his children and pass down traditions that he and his grandfather shared. We like that Dot is passionate about animals and enjoys bird watching. She's also a war veteran and has a disability, but she's still a badass! We like the Malto Family as a whole because they are such a nice family and they must be protected at all costs!!!

Ultimately, it is impossible to narrow down everything that we love about TFE in one post, because there is just SO MUCH GOOD with this show!

The character designs

The voice cast

The positive messages

The Terrans

Representation for POC

Representation for non-binary people

Daddy Optimus

Uncle Megatron

Uncle Bumblebee

Aunt Elita-1

Big sister Arcee

Not all Decepticons are bad

Dot and Megs' friendship

The sound design

And many, many, MANY more things!

Here is the TFE meme I drew inspiration from:

I can't seem to find the original reddit post anymore. Did it get deleted? But anyway, this meme is beautiful and if you're the OP of this meme and you see this post, thank you! I was thinking the same thing when I first saw this scene from "H.O.U.S.E. Rules".

*Edit: I've been adding to the list of things that EarthSpark lovers love lol so far I added Dot and Megs' friendship and The sound design, and I will probably continue to add more points in the future :)

If you made it to the end, thank you! 😊 That's all for now ~