#learning both on his own and from others things ways that can aid and help
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In any verse Tim knows he's lucky being surrounded by so many supportive and loving people in his life, that unless it causes a legitimate and or significant risk to himself no one is telling him not to do something because of his disability- even helping him to find ways to navigate and make things work out.
He understands that he's not lesser because of it but even he still has moments now and then of questioning.
Should he do something, is X a good idea, when meeting someone new has a bit of caution not knowing how they'll react (and hoping they won't treat him different / be weird)
As well as being aware that he does have his limits, there are things he can't do.
Mostly in regard to his vision but arguably also applies with his chronic pain as well as the more psychological elements.
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Perhaps more so relevant / leaning toward with Lab!life , Wonderland Tim. Learning to navigate the world and find his limits, learning its okay to ask for help or even say no.
I think for a short time anyway a small part of him might question, upon his growing fascination with knights n stuff. Can one still be a knight if he can't see (partially anyway in his case) After all he knows it makes him more vulnerable. None of the knights in stories are ever injured - Now he wouldn't fully believe that it's something he can't do at all but it certainly makes him think and wonder and ask.
Cause sure there might be all the typical training but some of it would need to be specialized / altered in away that works for him
#what happens next (plot thoughts)#honestly just in general I'd love to explore the aspect of him adjusting/ navigating even every day life with being half blind#learning both on his own and from others things ways that can aid and help#not just him learning either but those around him would likely have to learn and figure out ways to adapt with his blindness#someone finding out the hard way why not to just appraoch on his blind side (or at least make your presence known first )#Tim getting frustrated over a sudden unexpected change in surroundings in someway that he wasn't told about and now hast relearn to navigat#a certain place#and anything else that can be thought of (get this lad a cane pls)#- works for any verse of course#like obviously there's more to his character then just half blind but at the same time I think his partial blindness is an aspect#I've not often given a chance to fully explore - I do try to bring it up when relevant / appropriate but yeh
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season 1 rafe with his gf & son
i have to be sooo truthful here in that rafe is like 90% the actual worst during the events of season 1 to high school gf!
he's still doing drugs and going to parties, never coming home until the early morning if at all
maybe he was on better terms with his gf for a while, but everyone on the island knows that the pair are always on-and-off
when they are good, rafe is surprisingly sweet to her. he's always opening doors and looking after their son so she can rest. rafe is so much more physically affectionate too during these times, with his hands always on her, stroking her hip or playing with her hair
and then when they fight, it's like all that goes away and he's back to ignoring her
she lives in the main house now as that's where their son's nursery is, but most of the time she's sleeping in the guest room after they argue
rafe's idea of family bonding is going to the country club, drinking his expensive whiskey and eating overpriced food. he likes seeing his son look around wide-eyed at the new sights and new people, and he enjoys having his son sit in his lap while he drinks, mumbling nonsense to see his little smile
he tries to take his son out golfing once only to realise that he couldn't be away from his mother for so long, much to his annoyance. it's fine though bc he's insisting they all go together next time - problem solved in his mind
rafe and high school gf! go to midsummer's together as each others dates. rafe wouldn't have let her go with anyone else anyway, but he likes the display of having her on his arm. he matches his suit to the floral design of her gown to make the statement even clearer (they have a child together and he's worried about people knowing she's his???)
he manages to hide a lot of the events that go on from his gf, but some of them still reach her ears courtesy of sarah, and he can't stand the disappointed look she gives him. sometimes though, he makes her sit down and listen to his explanation, trying to get her to see his side. he's so relieved when she nods and no longer looks at him in that way (but she still doesn't tell him he was right, he always notes)
when barry burns rafe, he's knocking on the door of the guest room with tears in his eyes, clutching his badly burnt arm to his chest. gf just looks at him wide-eyed, telling him to sit on her bed while she grabs the first aid kit. rafe can't help but let the tears stream down his face as she cleans, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as he sobs. that night is the first time he sleeps with her in the guest room, his head nuzzled into her chest as she cradles him
ok but if barry ever threatens his girl and kid rafe won't let it go. he's landing a punch on the drug dealer's face immediately, his rage spiking instantaneously. barry learns not to threaten them again after the second time he wore purple bruises on his chin
oh, sweet pretty gf has no idea what rafe has done to the sheriff, and he plans to keep it that way. he wanted to protect his dad, but he absolutely refuses to let anything happen to his own family. she's so shocked when he tells her of john b's actions, the boy having lived down the hall from them, and rafe plays into the role of protector again. he's got her in his arms as she cries about how he was around their son, and rafe just hums and tells her "i would never let someone hurt either of you, you know that right?". it warms his heart to see her nod into his chest.
sometimes his gf walks into the nursery only to see her son not in his crib, but she knows exactly where he is. pushing open rafe's door she sees the two of them in bed, her sweet baby cuddled up on rafe's bare chest as they both sleep. he needs to be with his son when he has a bad day, which seems to be more often than not nowadays
rafe is rapidly growing more mentally unwell and the only thing that seems to soothe him is his gf and son, and he spends as much time as he can with them. the little baby is always in his arms as he coos down at him, watching his kid's eyes brighten at the sight of his dada. rafe reasons with himself that everything he does is to protect his family and that he couldn't be wrong then, could he?
Click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son
Click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son
Click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son
Click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son
Click here for the 18 month gap before season 4 rafe, gf & their son
Oh this was a bit of a novel, but rafe truly has so many facets to explore, let alone once you give him a big motivator like a kid!
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe outer banks#outer banks x reader#outer banks imagine#outer banks headcanons#outer banks fanfiction#high school gf! au#dad!rafe au#dad!rafe
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take it from me
pairing: bilingual!joel miller x f!afab!reader
summary: joel is a simple man who simply finds pleasure in pleasing you.
warnings: moodboard used for aesthetic purposes - does not represent the reader description, 18+ MDNI, no timeline, no specified ages, no mention of sarah or ellie, LATINO JOEL (most translations within the text except for some reused pet names/common phrases). This is porn with minimal plot (but unrelated plot I canon—his favorite artist is Linda Ronstadt and I stand by it.), Joel maneuvers reader, manhandling essentially, no other descriptions of reader other than nipple piercings, body worship(?), Joel’s filthy fucking mouth, mention of thigh riding, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of intense emotions, aftercare.
word count: 3.3k
HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS
a/n: fun fact, I’m a virgin, so if it seems far fetched it’s probably because it is. anyways, a special shoutout to ramon nomar for being the muse for this piece, another to @mrsswilliams for beta-ing and fueling my horny antics, thank you to my spanish teachers for guiding me to this moment (probably not your intention but I digress), and to you for taking the time to be here and hopefully enjoying! happy reading xx (banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics)
Addicting is the only word Joel Miller can muster up to describe you as his mind clouds with lust each night he’s alone, bucking into his own fist and spilling his sins after he’d met you. Of course you’re beautiful and charming above all things, but he can’t help the way his cock stirs after simply a phone call from you describing your day. How you miss him and want to meet up again soon.
Joel isn’t the brightest man, which he is very self aware of. But what he craves to learn about you, what your favorite flower is, favorite ice cream, your desires, outranks any level of intelligence a man could hold. He wants to please you, not for a superficial reason to use against you down the line. He enjoys your smile and the way your eyes crinkle, your dimple making an appearance on occasion, and it makes him feel good. The little things shine a light in his chest, ever the people pleaser.
However, he finds a red, hot desire to rouse you, make you squirm under his tender touch. To watch every fiber of control and tension dissipate from your being.
But he’s cautious.
He’s treading on thin ice within himself. He wants to give and give and give, but he’d never forgive himself if he overwhelmed and alarmed you. Your wit keeps him on his toes, tempting and trying his willpower to take things at a palatable pace.
But he’s just a man at his simplest form, a glutton for pleasure wanting to carve himself a home within you and give everything he has to please you.
You found yourself perched upon his lap, a forgotten movie droning in the background as hands and lips explore new territory. Joel firmly guided your hips, firstly against his own, then he aided you across his denim clad thigh after you wriggled your pants to the floor.
Choruses of Spanish praises, filth, ‘mamita, use me’, and phrases alike rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he found pleasure within your own. Consuming every moan, gasp, and ‘don’t stop’ you were so eager to give.
He struggled to deny your beautiful pleas to get him off as he had for you. You knew he wanted you to, there was no doubt in your mind considering the prominent bulge straining and begging you to. He reassured you, or rather made excuses for himself to ease the guilt he felt at your subtle disappointment.
I’m not coming in my jeans in front of the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
You said you had work in the morning, anyhow. We outta get’cha home, preciosa.
Joel kissed you softly as he pulled up your pants, grabbed his keys, opened his truck door for you, waited at red lights, and finally as he dropped you off at your apartment building, sealing the night with melted wax, branding himself on your heart until you meet next.
Made it home okay, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.
And he does.
His head is already spinning at the thought of going out with you again. He’s showered, trimmed, even ironed his flannel before making sure it’s buttoned and tucked properly. Well rested is not one of the qualities he’s adorning—no thanks to you running his imagination rampant—but the adrenaline he feels, and the coffee he drank at noon, make up for his lack of preparedness.
At the end of the day, those things don’t even matter. Joel Miller makes it as far as his front door when you ring, bringing you inside with the intention of grabbing his own keys. His hands find you instead, your face in a gentle caress as he compliments your attire, your appearance as a whole, and your waist as he kisses you with increasing fervor. You don’t stop him, and he doesn’t stop himself.
“Ay dios. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day,” he mumbles against your neck, walking you backwards to his bedroom. His shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, suffocating him until you pop each button open one by one. You leave him in his black undershirt, half untucked in his dark washed jeans.
The back of your knees find his mattress before you even realize, forcing you to sit parallel with his waist. He takes his time, always calculated with his hands on every sweet spot he can reach. Joel cups your jaw, admiring your blown out pupils and the raw lust overtaking your features.
“Wanna take good care of ya, now,” he soothes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, you know I’ll stop for ya, promise.”
It’s half of a promise to you, half of him asking you to promise to tell him if it becomes too much. You nod, reaching for him once again.
“No, chiquita,” he holds your hand to his chest. “¿Me prometes? You promise me?”
“I promise,” you say clearly and wholeheartedly. “On my life.”
With your renewed consent, he folds himself over to kiss you deeply. His tongue dances with yours, similarly to a few nights prior but with increased desperation. Fingertips graze up your sides, nerves twitching under his subtle touch, only unlatching your lips to lift your top over your head. His eyes fixate on the pebbled flesh and metal protruding your bra, making quick work of the clasp before removing it.
“I knew you had something hiding underneath this,” he muses, toying with the fabric of your bra between his first two fingers. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, hm?”
Joel skims his thumbs on the underside of both of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your collarbone. He suckles your delicate skin, committing the taste of your sweet musk and desire to his memory. He softly licks over one of your nipples, taking in how your head tips back with a sigh. He brings it into his mouth, nipping and assuaging the pierced bud until you manage to free his shirt out of his waistline.
“Paciencia, amor. Patience, sweetheart, please,” he pacifies as he guides your hand out of reach from his belt. “Just wanna savor you. Can I?”
You nod and opt to tangle your fingers in his curls. Approval seeps through his smirk as he continues his ministrations for as long as he pleases, feeling accomplished each time your hips chase his.
Joel stands up straight, running his calloused hands over one of your clothed legs, meticulously pulling each shoe and sock off and tossing them to the side to find later.
“Do I need a condom, baby?” He mutters against your knee, toying with the hemline of your pants.
You tell him no and quickly explain you’re clean and protected. Something in him visibly switches, desire becoming carnal. He clings tight to his sense of control, desperately willing himself to give himself to you, not give into himself.
Joel drags both layers of bottoms down your legs, watching you challenge him by keeping them clamped together. He exhales heavily through his nose, your limbs relaxing slightly, but just enough for him to retake control.
“Christ, looks like I was wrong again,” he sighs, smoothing his flattened palms over your open thighs. You can get prettier. “Oh she’s pretty, mamita. All this for me?”
A gasp falls between your lips as you’re tugged closer to the edge of the mattress. Your head spins, the only thought crossing it is Joel. His hands. His words. His filthy mouth and how it’s mere centimeters from where you want him to be. Need him to be.
“Joel,” you whine, feeling the scratch of his blunt facial hair on your inner thighs. His lips tease the sensitive skin around your pussy.
“What?” He coos, fingernails biting your flesh. “Dime, baby. Tell me what you want.”
It feels pathetic, you’re completely at his mercy, stripped down on his bed while he remains fully clothed over you. He has you in the palm of his hand, putty waiting to be molded and shaped however he pleases. Bliss has already warped your features, the anticipation of what’s to come already numbing your brain.
“I want you,” you cry simply.
“You have me, don’t ya? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”
Frustration bubbles in your belly. You’re truly not annoyed, but the tension might snap you in half before he gets the chance to.
“Want you to touch me,” you plead. “Want you to make me come, please.”
Joel hums with content, thumbs pulling your cunt open from the outer lips. A slick, sticky mess you are, hardly touched and begging to come. Arousal seeps from you, finding its way to your tight hole. You watch Joel wet his lips, the self restraint slowly dwindling from his gaze.
“Show me,” he huffs. “Be good and fuck your hand f’me. Wanna see how you like it.”
The sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against itself is enough for your hand to fly below your hips. Relief floods your nervous system the moment you circle your clit, hips lifting and chasing the friction. Sighs leave your parted lips, eyelids falling shut with pleasure.
“Ah ah,” he corrects. “Eyes on me, beba. Sigue jugando con esa flor bonita. Mírame.” Keep playing with that pretty flower. Look at me.
You comply with his request, half lidded but maintaining eye contact nonetheless. Your fingers toy with your cunt lazily, eyes settling between his burning gaze and his taut boxers. His length strains beneath the thin fabric and his hand twitches at his side.
“I love watching you, mami,” Joel purrs. “Wish y’could see how perfect you look right now…perfectly wrecked just for me.”
His words egg you on, pace quickening on your throbbing clit. Moans spill from you as you watch Joel squeeze at his seemingly uncomfortable erection for his own relief. His other palm keeps your legs spread for him, kneading desperately at your thighs as you work yourself towards the edge.
“¿Quieres que te ayude, mamita?” Do you want me to help you?
Joel settles on his knees, both palms splayed against your skin to keep you pinned down. He licks a broad stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking harshly on your labia before diving into your weeping cunt, all while audibly sighing with delight at your taste. Your hand instinctively rushes to grip his curls.
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he grumbles while putting your hand back where he says it belongs. “Keep playing with yourself. Make this pretty pussy cry all over my face, cosa dulce.” Sweet thing.
Your digits pulse against the nerve bundle, shocked by the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you. It’s absolutely obscene. He slurps up everything you have to give, edging you until your legs clamp over his ears. Joel sings into your cunt, a delicious melody that sends you into a frenzy. Your walls flutter around him as he guides you through your orgasm, nose nudging your hand out of the way to make more room for himself.
Your gaze drops from the ceiling to his blissful face, thick eyelashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he savors you. It all begins to feel like too much as you grip onto his shirt. You pull the cloth towards you and he gets the hint, dragging his mouth away from your pussy and removing his top.
“So desperate to come, mamita, already finished with me?” He cants, smoothing a thumb over your kneecap.
“No- just need a breath,” you pant. You take in his features, broad shoulders with a strong chest, thick arms. His hair alone has you running laps, the sparseness of it littered on his torso and below his belly button, his curls tousled already from your hands, and his beard—fuck his beard—is absolutely soaked with your arousal. He makes no attempt to wipe it clean before kissing you. The taste of your cunt dances on your tongue as he licks into your mouth.
“Joel,” you sigh, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck. “I wanna suck your cock, please.”
“You wanna suck it?” He smirks, slipping his hand beneath his boxers before shoving them off of his thighs. His fingers slip through your folds briefly before he deposits your cum onto the tip of his dick. Mischief plays on his expression as he opens your legs once more.
Joel slowly stuffs his cock into you, not your mouth but your pussy. A gasp escapes you, morphing itself into a moan. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in deeper.
“Thought you wanted to suck it,” he grunts with a devilish grin, grinding his hips down into yours.
“Hmm, I’ll suck it later,” you draw out with a smile.
He leans down to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin before pulling off.
“God, mamita,” he exhales. “Love fucking this pussy. Takin’ me so well.”
His hips drive into yours at a devastating pace, only using a portion of his length to massage your pussy. You quickly adjust to him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. You cry his name while simultaneously having all of the oxygen punched out of your lungs. Joel swallows your wails whole, moaning against your lips in return.
Your legs tense around his body, face twisting up with pleasure under the weight of his. Lips drag against your skin, anywhere he can reach. The room spins around you, eyes rolling back into your head as his hand snakes down to play with your clit. You desperately claw at Joel, gripping his curls in one hand and bruising his back with the other.
“Dámelo. Give it to me like I want, sugar,” Joel coaxes.
The bundles of twine prickling your flesh and holding you together in one piece snap, your body completely shattering into a million fragments underneath him. He stays buried inside you as you pulse around his cock, humming into your neck and soothing his hands over your burning skin.
Joel gently settles onto his side near you, cupping your jaw and kissing you feverishly. You shift your body to face away from him, pushing back against his soaked erection. His eyebrows furrow, grunts of detest coming from him.
“No, mami, I want to look at you while I fuck you. Ven aquí, come here,” he corrects, grasping your arm to guide you to press up chest to chest with him. A brief hiss escapes him as the cool jewelry brushes up against his nipples.
“These’ll be the death of me,” he sighs, latching his mouth to yours once more as he maneuvers you the way he wants.
His cock slips easily back into your wet heat, arms trapping your upper half against his as his legs anchor to the bed to buck into you. He grips onto your ass for leverage and you find yourself holding onto it with your own palm. It’s slower, intimate, reeling you in to take more, to take it all.
He draws another orgasm from you. Your heart thrums against his hardened chest, his pounding against the confines of his ribcage. He collapses on his back with a breathy groan, sweat perspiring on his forehead. You push back his sticky curls as he catches his breath this time.
“You still wanna suck it?” He chuckles cheekily, offering but not forcing.
He’s surprised as you eagerly crawl down his body, curling over his thigh while taking his cock in your fist. Your back is to him once more, but beggars can’t be choosers, especially while he’s stuffed in your mouth so perfectly. His fingers drag along your spine, palm splaying flat to soothe the sensation quickly after. His hand stills and stomach flexes as you take as much of him as you can, pumping your tight fist over the remainder of his length.
“Fuck me,” he shutters mindlessly, “feels so good, amor. Treating me so good.”
The praises fuel you, moaning around his tip as he continues to trace shapeless trails onto your back. Your mind feels cloudy, not thunderstorms and impending doom cloudy, but rather a sunny, breezy, nothing could ever go wrong kind of cloudy. You feel taken care of for once, free to slip into a warm, blissful state with Joel. He feels safe.
“Come back, preciosa,” he grins as you make your way back up his body. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply once more, running his hands gently all over your skin as you settle on top of him.
“Missed ya,” he chuckles, kissing your swollen pout a few more times before wetting his fingertips with his spit. He reaches down, circling your clit as his cock twitches against your seam. Your head falls beside his, feeling too heavy to hold up on your own.
Joel protrudes your cunt once more, nestling into you carefully at first. You writhe over him at the push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls, hips snapping down against his with subtle slaps of skin rejoicing. He picks up his pace beneath you, overwhelming your senses a bit too quickly.
You work your core to sit up, fully sheathed with his length as you grind against him. He grips onto your hips, watching you use him for your own pleasure.
“Tan bonita, amor,” he hums smugly, his fingertips dancing along your bare thigh, his other hand tucked behind his head to prop himself up. “So pretty, mami, fuck.”
He tweaks his fingers against your nipples, pinching the pebbled flesh carefully as you ride his lap. Tufts of his neat pubic hair scratch at your clit, the friction of everything causing you to soak his lap further. You’re being pushed to your limits, throat dry and voice hoarse. Joel wishes to have put water on his bedside table, he would’ve had he’d known you’d end up here so quickly.
“Doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He checks in, toying with your fingers that have found a home on his chest. You silently nod, eyelids low and face contoured with bliss.
“Think you can give me one more, bebita? Come on my cock one more time and I’ll give you whatever you need.”
Your voice hardly sounds like your own, but you mean it when you tell him yes, please. He feels it when you clamp down on his length, his thighs tensing so tight they almost cramp. His legs hinge at the knee, body pivoting you forward into his chest. Joel grabs fistfuls of your ass as he fucks up into you, all of the air leaving your lungs.
His grunts and groans become less calculated and intentional, thrusts becoming sloppier and instinctual. You squeeze him tight, toes curling as you already tumble towards your impending high.
“Mierda,” he hisses, strong arms pressing your torso firmly to his. His lips consume your every breath, whine and borderline scream.
“Take it, use me, amor. Dámelo, cariño, and I’ll give you my cum. Take it from me,” he grunts sharply, pressing into you impossibly deeper and faster. Your skin bursts into flames, embers showering your body as he pulls that final high from you. You shutter above him, dead weight against his body as he uses you to finish himself off. He evacuates your warmth and pumps out his load between your sticky, worn out figures with a drawn out groan.
Joel makes the first move to stand up, cock softening and hanging between his legs. He starts to step towards his en suite bathroom to find a towel, but you reach for him.
“I’m just gettin’ somethin’ to clean you up, honey,” he smiles before seeing a sadness in your eyes, longing for him to come back. Tears prickle your eyes and Joel quickly makes his way back to the bed.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stay, baby, cálmate,” he hushes carefully, holding you close to him. “We’ll getcha cleaned up in a little bit, I’ll make you whatever you fancy for supper and relax with you, sound good?”
A nod suffices his question, knowing you trust him enough to stay rather than run off eases him as he grounds you back to reality with his warm embrace.
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#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#my writing#fic: take it from me
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Writing and drawing amputee characters: Not every amputee wears prosthetics (and that's ok)
Not every amputee wears prosthetics, and not doing so is not a sign that they've "given up".
It's a bit of a trope that I've noticed that when an amputee, leg amputees in particular, don't wear prosthetics in media its often used as a sign that they've given up hope/stopped trying/ are depressed etc. If/when they start feeling better, they'll start wearing their prosthetics again, usually accompanied by triumphant or inspiring music (if it's a movie). The most famous example of this is in Forest Gump, Where Dan spends most of the movie after loosing his legs wishing he'd died instead. He does eventually come around, and him finally moving from his wheelchair to prosthetics is meant to highlight this.
The thing is, it's not that it's unrealistic - in fact my last major mental health spiral was started because one of my prosthetics was being a shit and wouldn't go on properly, despite fitting perfectly at the prosthetist's the day before. I'm not going to use my legs when I'm not in a good headspace, but the problem is, this is the only time non-prosthetic using amputees ever get representation: to show how sad they are. Even if that's not what the creator/writer necessarily intended, audiences will often make that assumption on their own unless you're very careful and intentional about how you frame it, because it's what existing media has taught them to expect.
But there are lots of reasons why someone might not use prosthetics:
they might not need them: this is more common in arm amputees because of how difficult it can be to use arm prosthetic, especially above-elbow prosthetics. Most folks learn how to get on without them pretty well. In fact, most of the arm amputees I know don't have prosthetics, or only have them for specific tasks (e.g. I knew a girl who had a prosthetic hand made specifically for rowing, but that's all she used it for).
Other mobility aids just work better for them: for me, I'm faster, more manoeuvrable and can be out for longer when I'm in my wheelchair than I ever could on my prosthetics. Youtube/tik tok creator Josh Sundquist has said the same thing about his crutches, he just feels better using them than his prosthetic. This isn't the case for everyone of course, but it is for some of us. Especially people with above-knee prosthetics, in my experience.
Other disabilities make them harder to use: Some people are unable to use prosthetics due to other disabilities, or even other amputations. Yeah, as it turns out, a lot of prosthetics are only really designed for single-limb amputees. While they're usable for multi-limb amps, they're much harder to use or they might not be able to access every feature. For example, the prosthetic knee I have has the ability to monitor the walk cycle of the other leg and match it as close as possible - but that only works if you have a full leg on the other side. Likewise, my nan didn't like using her prosthetic, as she had limited movement in her shoulders that meant she physically couldn't move her arms in the right way to get her leg on without help.
Prosthetics are expensive in some parts of the world: not everyone can afford a prosthetic. My left prosthetic costs around $5,000 Australian dollars, but my right one (the above knee) cost $125,000AUD. It's the most expensive thing I own that I only got because my country pays for medical equipment for disabled folks. Some places subsidise the cost, but paying 10% of $125,000 is still $12,500. Then in some places, if you don't have insurance, you have to pay for that all by yourself. Even with insurance you still have to pay some of it depending on your cover. Arm prosthetics are even more expensive. Sure, both arms and legs do have cheaper options available, but they're often extremely difficult to use. You get what you pay for.
they aren't suitable for every type of environment: Prosthetics can be finicky and modern ones can be kind of sensitive to the elements. My home town was in a coastal lowland - this means lots of beaches and lots of swamp filled with salty/brackish water. The metals used in prosthetics don't hold up well in those conditions, and so they would rust quicker, I needed to clean them more, I needed to empty sand out of my foot ALL THE TIME (there always seemed to be more. It was like a bag of holding but it was just sand). Some prosthetics can't get wet at all. There were a few amputees who moved to the area when I was older who just didn't bother lol. It wasn't worth the extra effort needed for the maintenance.
People have allergies to the prosthetic material: This is less of a problem in the modern day, but some people are allergic to the materials their prosthetics are made from. You can usually find an alternative but depending on the type of allergy, some people are allergic to the replacements too.
Some people just don't like them.
There's nothing wrong with choosing to go without a prosthetic. There's nothing wrong with deciding they aren't for you. It doesn't make you a failure or sad or anything else. Using or not using prosthetics is a completely morally neutral thing.
Please, if you're writing amputees, consider if a prosthetic really is the best mobility aid for your character and consider having your characters go without, or at least mix it up a bit.
For example, Xari, one of the main characters in my comic, uses prosthetics unsupported and with crutches, and uses a wheelchair. They alternate between them throughout the story.
#disability#disabled#id in alt text#writing#writing disability#disability representation#authors of tumblr#write#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writer#creative writing#writing tips#writing resources#writing help#writing advice#writing disability with cy cyborg
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cute wings
(sfw)
Nameless!Sunday x Nameless!reader
Based on Sunday's ultimate animation and my own headcanons about halovian's lore.
.
.
.
"So what was that move you whip out earlier? The one with the vines and everything!" You said, clearly impressed while sitting down on one of the couch.
"Have you been hiding the other two pair of wings or do they only come out when you do that last move?" You asked eagerly when Sunday enter the parlor car, the both of you having just gotten back from your trailblazing expidition together. Your eyes following him as he joins you on the couch, with sparks of curiosity in it.
It hasn't been that long since Sunday joined the Astral express, but he could definitely say that it's been enough for him to start opening up to all the nameless and vice versa.
"Ah, are you refering to my supporting spell?" This is the case especially for you, with your seemingly endless energy and desire to learn about everything, it's only a matter of time before you start flooding him with all these question about anything that piqued your interest.
"For halovians, our wings are like a representation of our emotion and power, similar to that of our halo." Sunday pause for a moment, you guessed to try and think of an answer that will satisfy your question.
"To put it simply, take that fight we just won earlier for example, I was using my power to aid us, the wings that appeared were due to my strong emotion and use of power at the moment." He turned to look at you as you nod multiple times, trying to grasp your head around the new information like a lost puppy trying to figure out where it is.
You do that quite often - something Sunday has took notice and find endearing.
Cute, he think.
"Sooo... does that mean the wings can only come out when you are in a state like that?" You finally said after some time. "Aw pity, I was hoping you could make them appear anytime you know, I think they are really adorable!" You said what you were thinking with all honesty, completely oblivious to the fact that your last comment caught the halovian off guard and flustered to his core, hints of red dusting his cheeks.
"Th-that is not entirely correct, I can make them visible if I want to, but I'll need to be in a state of strong emotion or focus on my power in that case." Sunday tries to brush of your compliment about his wings with his answer, but before he could given it anymore thoughts, you have already came up with an idea.
Sunday jolts slightly as you prop your chin onto his shoulder, your face display a smug expression, looking up at him with your hand on top of his own.
"Wait, if I'm correct... Then I'll just have to make you feel emotions strong enough for your cute wings to come out, right?"
Huh? What did you just say? What are you planning? How did- what? There is a million things going through Sunday's head right now and the fact that your gaze are still fixed on him while this is happening does not help at all. Sunday doesn't know what is worse, the way he got insanely flustered just by a few compliments or you being extremely close to him right now.
"Well...? Aren't you gonna say anything?" He heard you said in the slowest and most teasing way possible, as if to get even more reaction from him. Before he could even answer, you stood up and move infront of him.
"Sunday." you said while bending down to face him, your hands on your knees and face tilting down at him with an adoring smile.
Huh?
"Yes?" He managed to say, his head spinning to guess what are you planning to say next.
"Although it hadn't been long since you join the express, you have been adapting and trying your best to keep up with the crew really well." Sunday can feel his cheeks burning with every sweet words uttered from your mouth. You on the other hand, are determined to get his marvelous wings to come out.
"You have done a great job as a nameless... Don't you think so too?" You continue, still looking down at him but leaned in a bit closer, too close for Sunday to maintain his composure. If he still has any, that is.
"Ah, th-thank you. That's very kind of you to say." As his wings move to cover his face, he can here an audible 'aww' coming from you which caught him by surprise. Resulting in him moving them to his side again, for a better view of what was happening.
"It worked!" Opening his eyes, Sunday sees you smiling and gushing over his wings - ah, right, his other wings that have appeared due to him being oh so flustered just by your simple remarks.
"May I touch them?" You asked, your gaze gentle, yet still intense that it makes Sunday gulp nervously as his face turn even more red.
"Yes, you may." Sunday doesn't know why he gave you permission, as if you being in such close proximity to him wasn't enough to get his heart pounding. Especially with the fact that his wings are actually pretty sensitive.
With a happy grin, you reach out to glide over the feathers with the back of your hand, not missing how doing it make Sunday shudders a bit.
"Oh, sorry!" You retrieve your hand after noticing.
"No no, it's fine... please continue." He assured, not wanting you to feel bad. Even if he doesn't exactly want you to keep thumbing his wings like this... purely because it's making him all embarrassed and a blushing mess.
"You know... what I said earlier about you joining the express. I wasn't just teasing you, I actually meant it." You reach out for his wings again, this time with a soft smile, making sure he knows you are being sincere.
Sunday made a dumbfounded expression, or atleast you think he is, his face shows a mix of gratitude and confusion as he stare at you.
"I am grateful that you hold me on such high regards, though... I do not believe I have made any significant contribution to the express, more less better than all of you." Sunday answered truthfully. How could you say all these good things about him when he doesn't deserve any of it? How are you still able to welcome him with open arm? After all his mistakes, after the grand pursuit of a dream paradise through such manipulative methods, and-
"Sunday!"
He blinked,
Once,
Twice,
"Hey, are you okay? You just zoned out for a moment." You move your hands from his wings to his shoulder, sitting down next to him again, tone worried.
"Sorry... I was just deep in thought. Were you saying something?" He quickly apologized, feeling bad for making you worried. Yet again another reason he doesn't deserve your praises, Sunday blames himself.
"I said stop thinking bad about yourself. Don't ever say anything like that... nobody is perfect, everyone has their own flaws and values. You just have to not let your doubts get to you." You turned Sunday towards your direction a bit, so that he's looking at you in the eyes.
"Hm, promise me you'll never think negatively about yourself again." You said firmly, waiting for him.
"I-I promise." With an exhale Sunday replied to you, smilling. "Thank you."
You smile back "There we go, now that's my little angle~"
!?
This is the second time you have caught him off guard in this conversation. Little angle? At this point he swear you will be the death of him eventually, Sunday think as you suddenly lit up.
"Well, let's lighten things up a bit..." you said, pulling out your phone. "Say cheeseeee" what are y-
Snap
Just like that, a picture of Sunday smilling sheepishly and flapping his wings was sent to the astral express family group chat. Earning you a panic, embarrassed Sunday and the multiple 'aww's from the trailblazer and March.
_
The Astral Express Family
You: (picture)
You: I found a happy bird on the express today~
March: aww
Trailblazer: wow! Six wings!
Trailblazer: aww
Sunday: ...
_
#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#sunday hsr#sunday honkai star rail#sunday x reader#sunday x you#star rail sunday
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Physio’s Daughter pt.2
Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader
Preview: read Part 1, you continue to work with the Canadian team and your partnership with Jessie develops
Warning: some cursing I think, very very very minimal suggestion to sex
WC: 3.8k
A/N: this might be my new favorite story I’m writing (sorry all you Better Boyfriend fans)
The next week had gone by in a flash. Mark had called you, telling you the same things that your mom already had. He wanted to extend an offer to you to join the team, working as a student, for the summer and through the Olympics. He also mentioned that Jessie had spoken highly of you directly to him. Knowing how impressive having experience working for Team Canada would look to future jobs, you couldn’t turn down the offer.
Upon accepting you had started working everyday at the training facility, sometimes carpooling with your mom, picking her up from your childhood home and other days she would swing by your apartment and pick you up. Other days when she would have meetings or individual appointments you weren’t invited to, you’d drive separately.
On your first day Mark had sat you down in his office and asked you about your experience and what you were hoping to gain from your summer. You told him the more you could do the better, whatever he thought would be the best.
You honestly didn’t care too much about the jobs they gave you, as a student you expected to do the simple, more mundane work, making ice bags, organizing closets, restocking first aid kits. You expected to be more of an observer, stepping in only if extra hands were needed.
However much to your surprise, Mark had decided the opposite for you. After your meeting he had asked you to sit tight as he walked out and into the dressing room. He came back with a half dressed captain, Jessie only wearing her training shorts and actively throwing on a sweatshirt as she followed Mark back into the office.
“Oh, you’re back!” Jessie exclaimed when saw you sitting in Mark's office.
“She is.” Before you can answer for yourself Mark steps in. “And I want you two to work together. For one, Jessie we need to have your calf back to 100% before Paris, on top of that as captain, you need to be in the loop as far as what is going on with your teammates. That’s where you two are going to mingle.” His finger points between you and Jessie before he turns his attention to you.
“I want you to be fully responsible for working with Jessie on her calf. I think that will be a better use of your time, instead of throwing you 50 small tasks, take on one large one, do it right. Obviously if you need guidance, the rest of the team is here but I want you to take as much of the lead on it as possible.”
“Understood, I can do that.”
He turns to face Jessie. “Assuming you’re okay with that? You know your own body, if you have concerns or questions about her treatment plan, ask. She’s a student, we don’t expect her to be perfect, you’ll help her. I’m not making you a Guinea pig, you’re not a test subject, more of a learning experience. I mean that in the best way possible.”
“Of course, I feel good about that.” You feel relieved as Jessie agrees to his plan, you hadn’t had much time for the nerves around the responsibility of this job to build up too much but there were some doubts starting.
“As far as the stuff beyond your calf. I want Jessie to get updates on teammate’s, not details but just general ideas of who’s having more fatigue, who needs to be watched, any of those things that as captain she should know, you need to be informing her.” He’s now back looking at you.
“Yes sir, I can do that.”
“Perfect, then you’re both free to go.” He claps his hands together and then motions toward the door.
Jessie is the first one out, she holds the door open for you as you follow her into the main physio room. The rest of the room is empty, today was just a film and media day, most of the players not coming in for any treatments. The physio staff had found themselves elsewhere in the building. Behind you, your boss leaves his office, locking the door before tossing a pair of keys in your direction. He tells you it’s they keys to get in the building and the master key for anything in the training room, in the event you’re here before anyone else. You thank him and watch as he leaves, leaving you and Jessie alone.
You watch as Jessie wanders over to one of the tables, turning and with what seems like ease, pushing herself up and onto the table with her arms. She flops back laying fully down on the table and you can’t help but notice when she puts her arms behind her head her sweatshirt rides up, exposing the lower bit of her abdomen. Catching yourself staring for a second too long you turn away and walk over to the end of the table where her head was.
She has her eyes closed, hands resting behind her head, she looks peaceful. She must have been able to hear you move by her, she opens one eye, looking in your direction.
“Somehow, media day tires me out more than anything.” She goes back to having both eyes closed.
“Because you hate it.” You answer, you’re not sure if she was even asking for a reason but the silence felt uncomfortable and you wanted to fill it. Her eyes both open and she turns her head to look at you. Her eyebrows are pinched slightly as if she’s confused by your statement.
“You hate being in front of the camera right? You probably work yourself up over it, whether you know it or not. It’s probably more stressful on you mentally than playing is.”
“Wow no one told me you were going to school to be an emotional therapist too.” You can practically feel sarcasm dripping off her sentence. She rolls her eyes at you and for a second you feel like an idiot, she obviously knew she hated being in front of the camera, you didn’t need to tell her.
Jessie moves to flip over, propping her head up on her hands. Her smile is big across her face. She reaches an arm out and swats at you, hitting just above your thigh that was at her eye level as you stood at the end of the bed.
“I’m joking, loosen up. If you stay this nervous all summer you’re going to hate it here.”
You knew she was right, being uptight was not going to make anything easier or any part of coming to work fun. But knowing she was right and actually trying to lessen your nerves were two different things.
It took time but by the end of your second week you were feeling more comfortable, slightly confident in the choices you were making, you felt familiar with the staff and all the players, it was becoming more fun.
You and Jessie had fallen into an easy routine. You’d both get to the training facility earlier than everyone, you’d both sit down in your makeshift office and go through paperwork. You’d take the time to run her through each of her teammates, giving her the information that Mark had requested she get as captain. Sometimes there were only a handful of updates to give her and the two of you would end up sitting around chatting.
When her teammates began to arrive you’d make your way into the training room, Jessie would get changed and come back to start treatment on her leg. You’d run her through exercises, stretches, regimes for icing, all the necessary recovery steps for her leg. You’d still run around, occasionally helping the rest of the players, taping, rolling, massaging, but you always came back to check on Jessie. You didn’t think much of it, the time you were spending together, if anything it was more of a requirement for the two of you to spend time together, not a choice.
During training Jessie would check in during water breaks, you weren’t sure that was required but she always found her way over to you, chatting for a minute, usually starting with an update on how she was playing but sometimes just telling you other information, what she had for dinner, the color of the puppy she saw on her way in, small details about her life, before she’d have to go back out.
The more you talked with her the more your silly little young school girl crush came back. Only by this time it was full force attraction, more than just a crush. You were confused how everyone who talked with her wasn’t in love with her. She was kind. It was a simple way to describe her and definitely didn’t do her justice but she was, at the end of the day she was kind and good natured and it drove you crazy.
She was always quick to help you find something in the training room, quick to offer you an extra jacket if she saw you were cold watching training, first one to offer to carry any equipment to and from the field. It was her small gestures that stood out so much.
After training you had a similar routine, helping her, and other players with their recovery. Talking with Jessie about her calf, offering various treatment options to her and letting her guide you. You’d finish your treatment with her and unlike most players who would hurry out of the training room in a rush to get home, she’d stay around talking, offering to help clean or just sitting around. She’d stay until most of the staff had begun to go home and Mark would usually tell her to get out.
It wasn’t long before others took notice of the partnership the two of you had developed.
After a late night at the facility, your Mom began poking at the subject on the ride home.
“How’s it going with Jessie?”
“She’s good, calf is still giving her tightness but it’s less frequent than before, I think she’ll be playing full 90’ before the end of camp.” You think nothing of her question, assuming she’s asking about how her recovery is coming along given the Olympics were coming up quickly.
“She sure does hang around you a lot.” You start to hear the accusatory tone in her voice.
“She’s required to, Mark told both of us we have to work together.”
“I’m pretty sure staying late everyday, to do nothing but sit around with you, wasn’t in the requirements, or the extra chats during water breaks.” She looks over at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Usually she’s giving me updates on her leg.” Defending her behavior to your Mom, it wasn’t really your fault Jessie came over to talk during practice.
“Don’t lie to me, you two were talking about the new pasta place down the road today.”
You don’t say anything back to her, just staring as she glances between the road and back to you.
“Look, I’m saying this as someone superior to you at work, I just think you need to be careful. This is a job, you’re responsible for her health. You can’t be messing around, she’s a coworker. You don’t want to appear unprofessional.”
As if her scolding wasn't enough, she adds, “As your mom, I have to say, she’s 4 years older than you. She’s as close to 30 as you are 18. You’re still a student, she has her career figured out, you’re only just starting yours. Not to mention it’s usually not a good idea to sleep with someone you work with, it makes things complicated.”
“Mom! I’m not sleeping with her.” Your voice is raised, and you feel your cheeks start to burn at your Mom’s suggestion. It’s a mix of anger and embarrassment, mainly from the fact that she would accuse you of sleeping with Jessie, that’s not fair to you or to her.
This is what you hated about working with your Mom, she would still be your Mom at the end of the day. You knew she kept a close eye on you, closer than Mark, closer than any of the other staff, she watched you like a hawk, all day everyday.
“There’s nothing going on.” You add, “She has no interest, it’s work for both of us.” You were thankful when your mom pulled into the driveway to your apartment complex.
“Just take a second to consider what other people might think. You don’t need to have a bad reputation this early in your career because of a fling.” The way she was talking to you felt like you were back in high school and she had caught you sneaking beers to take to a friend's house. It was a voice of concern mixed with a hint of disappointment.
“I already told you, nothing is happening. I don’t need a ride tomorrow, I can take myself.” You tell your mom as you exit the car, closing the door behind you a bit harder than you should.
When you get inside you let your bag hit the ground hard. Frustration from your mom’s comments is still running through your veins. You move to the kitchen, grabbing leftovers out of the fridge and throwing them in the microwave for a minute.
As you eat you think about work, you had to meet with Jessie tomorrow morning but you decide after that you were going to prove to your mom there was nothing going on. You were going to distance yourself, give Jessie the same treatment as everyone else.
That’s what you do, for the next few days you still meet with Jessie in the morning, giving her updates but kicking her out of the office once your professional talks are over. Jessie seemed a bit confused the first few days as you pulled away more and more from her but she never mentioned it to you. You’d finish her recovery treatments and then head into your office which was more of a closet made into a temporary office. You would claim you had paperwork to do and then end up just staring at the blank computer in front of you, wishing you could be having a mindless conversation with her about dogs or bikes or travel spots. Jessie had numerous stories from traveling with Chelsea that you loved hearing about, with every story she told you, you added a travel destination to your bucket list.
You kept up with distancing yourself, somewhat grateful that the international window was coming to a close while you still would have to go to work, Jessie wouldn’t be there forcing you to avoid her.
It was the second to last day of the international window and you were getting started on morning treatments before the friendly match the team had later that afternoon. You had given Jessie her heat pack, not sticking around to talk with her but moving over to where Janine was sitting on the table chatting with some of the other girls.
“Waiting to get your knee taped?” You ask, offering to do it for her.
“Yeah that would be great.” You move to grab tape and adhesive spray. You zone out of the conversations being had around you as you get to work, you’d see how Janine’s knee was taped everyday so it was an easy task to do but not completely a habit you had to use some focus.
“You’re only saying that Jess because it’s the most recent coffee you’ve had.” You zone back into the conversation hearing Janine mention Jessie.
“What about you?” Janine kicks her leg slightly, indicating she was talking to you.
“Sorry, what?” You hadn’t heard what the question was, too zoned out in your own thoughts.
“What’s your go-to coffee order?”
“Oh, usually a cold brew, sometimes I’ll add caramel or raspberry syrup, nothing too crazy.” You answer as you finish up taping her knee. “You’re all set.” You pat her knee and she hops up off the table, thanking you and heading out the door.
You turn and see Jessie putting away her heat pack, something you usually did for her. She gives you a glance, a blank expression on her face as she moves to grab the ball to roll out. As her teammates all filter out, it’s just you and Jessie left in the training room as the rest of the staff followed out to set up for the match. She hadn’t said much to you all day and something felt off, you attempted to make conversation with her.
“Are you looking forward to being back in Portland?”
“Yeah, sort of, I always miss the people here, Portland is all still so new, not quite home yet. Plus the training staff there isn’t nearly as fun, you won’t be-”
“Hey if you’re not doing anything besides chatting, come help set up.” Your Mom’s voice comes from across the room, her head stuck through the door.
Of course she walked in now, not when you were helping Beckie, not when you had been filling water bottles, not when you had been talking to Julia about ankle taping, not when you were having a friendly chat with Quinn, not when you were helping the other staff refill first aid kits. Of course she walked in when it was just you and Jessie, not helping her accusations from last week.
“Coming.” You turn away from Jessie and follow your mom out. As you follow down the hallway she looks back at you. She doesn’t say anything but her glare is enough to keep you from trying to defend what she saw.
The friendly was easy, no injuries, no issues, Canada taking the win 3-1. Jessie was able to get back into playing a full 90’ which while you tried not to show it, you felt proud of. You were proud of your own work, being able to get her back with your help but also proud of Jessie for working through her injury. Thankfully since she was playing the full 90’ there was no time for her to chat with you on the bench, much to your Mom’s relief. You had finished up the evening working with some of the team on stretching and helping them plan for their few weeks back at their club teams. It wasn’t difficult work but it had kept you late at the stadium, leading to a rough start to your next morning.
You were sitting at your desk early at 5am, head resting against your hands, you were exhausted, the game ending late last night, staying to finish up recovery and cleaning up took a toll on your sleep already. What also didn’t help was lying in bed thinking about Jessie. She had felt cold today, she didn’t come to talk to you during halftime, she didn’t ask for extra help during recovery like she normally did. You knew it was your fault, well your Mom’s fault for her comments, but you were the one who pulled back from her first. You felt bad, pulling away from her but it’s what seemed to be the right thing.
“Hey.” A knock on your door frame pulls you from your exhausted brain fog. You look up to see Jessie much to your surprise, you hadn’t planned any of the players to be in this morning. They only had to be in later for film and to wrap up the camp before everyone went back to their clubs for a few weeks before the Olympic period began.
“Can I?” She pointed to the chair she usually would sit in.
“Of course.” You gesture to the chair across from you and Jessie walks in, two coffees in her hands. She places them both on the table before sliding one across the desk to you.
“What’s this for?”
“You.” She takes a sip from her own coffee. You take a look at the handwriting on the cup, labeling your drink as a cold brew with raspberry. You look up at Jessie questioning how she got your order.
“You mentioned your coffee order to Janine yesterday.” She says with a shrug as if you had directly told her your order and she hadn’t been listening into your conversation.
“You didn’t have to get me a coffee Jessie.” You take a sip of it anyway, you weren’t one to turn down caffeine especially after a long night.
“Well it’s more of an excuse to talk to you. I wanted to see what’s been going on.”
“Nothing new really, especially going into the break, no new injuries or anything from last night so no real updates, everyone’s doing well-”
“That’s not what I meant.” She cuts you off. “Sorry to interrupt, it's just I meant why it feels like you’re hiding from me?”
“Oh. Um.” You spin the coffee cup between your hands, looking down at it. You didn’t want to have to explain to her that your Mom is concerned you have a crush.
“If I did something, I’m sorry, I can fix-”
“You didn’t do anything.” You let out a sigh, there’s no way you were going to get out of talking with Jessie. You didn’t want to have to explain it to her, but you also didn’t want her sitting around thinking she did something wrong.
“It’s more my Mom, as embarrassing as that is to admit.” You pinch your eyes shut, feeling shy that you’re admitting that as a 22 year old, your Mom got into your head and made you change your behavior.
“Your Mom?” Jessie seems surprised, she definitely wasn’t expecting your Mom to be involved.
“She made some comments to me, she thought our relationship was becoming unprofessional. She even accused me, well us, of sleeping together.” You explain your behavior, you regret mentioning the sleeping together part as soon as it comes out of your mouth. You keep staring at the coffee in your hands, too nervous to look up and see Jessie’s reaction.
“Oh.” Jessie doesn’t say anything else.
“I obviously told her it wasn’t anything besides professional. We were just working, but her words got in my head so I figured the easiest way was to take a step back.”
“Oh come on!?” You could see her throw her hands up in your peripheral vision.
“What?” You lifted your head to look at her. You weren’t sure why she seemed to be annoyed with you.
“Am I really that bad of a flirt that you thought all those conversations we had were strictly professional?”
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I think one of the most fascinating aspects of Joshua's character is that he was raised by a cult that worships him and it shows.
The game is very unsubtle in depicting the Undying as a cult, if a benign one whose goals are largely aligned with Clive's: the way it recruits from the disenfranchised dredges of society, the way it isolates it's members from the outside world, and associates devotion to their deity with worth as a person, even glorifying self sacrifice even past the point of reason- something Clive and Cyril butt heads on repeatedly.
And you can see the way that both being raised by them and being their messiah has impacted Joshua: the way Joshua feels that he can and should be able to do everything on his own (rebuffing Jote's efforts to help him even with small matters, avoiding Clive in order to 'protect' him), the way he's feels a right to order the lives of others around his own wishes (his meddling in the politics of each Kingdom, especially Sanbreque), even the subtle hint that he's given up on trying to persuade the Undying not to sacrifice their lives for his gain (and the even more subtle implication that he's maybe accepted that self sacrifice is a good thing, given his own self-sacrificial tendencies for Clive).
Their's this big gap after the reveal Joshua is alive where you wonder: how did he get from where he was Phoenix Gate (the shy innocent boy who wanted to do his duty more to make his brother proud then for it's own sake) to where he is at Drake's Spine (confident, mysterious, cold blooded in his pursuit of his goals), and the game answers that so effectively in the introduction of the Undying. This is where he learned it, this is what shaped him after everything fell apart and he went into hiding: a cult that all at once was trying to parent and worship and aid a 10 year old messiah whose only real desire was to save his brother from the monster that tore them apart.
#FFXVI#Final Fantasy XVI#FF16#Final Fantasy 16#FFXVI Spoilers#FF16 spoilers#joshua rosfield#The Undying#cyril#jote#clive rosfield
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Dr's Assistant Danny
So, Danny has to run away from Amity after deciding to tell his parents about his powers. They acted like they accepted him, but when his back was turned they shot him with one of their Inventions and dragged him into the Lab for Study.
They think he's been taken over by a Ghost and decide to be "Surgeons" by opening him up and removing the Ghost by hand. Throughout all of this, they are just telling Danny that they are qualified doctors and can definitely do this perfectly. But they don't even use Anesthesia, and don't know the first thing about Surgery. But their delusions of being perfect Doctors have taken a hold of them, and they can't even comprehend the idea that they are doing it wrong.
After a week of "Surgeries", they mess up and forget to lock his Cell, and Danny manages to escape, hopping on a Bus headed to New Jersey.
He ends up in Gotham, hiding in an Alley to avoid Civilians and to bandage himself up. Thankfully his parents stitched him up fairly well after the last session, but he is still really hurt. And the cuffs restricting his powers don't help either.
He passes out in the Alley and wakes up in a Doctors Office. He panics, thinking that his parents found him and took him back to the Lab. Thankfully, the resident Dr rushes in to calm him down.
It's Dr Leslie Thompkins, and she really wants her patient to stop struggling thank you very much.
She manages to calm him down, and explains that she found him in the Alley, but that he was seriously injured. He was out for 4 days.
He explains what he can, that he told his parents that he had powers and that they didn't take it well. Not the Ghost thing, but he does explain that his parents could charitably be referred to as "Mad Scientists", and Dr Thompkins figures it out from there.
Since he doesn't have a place to stay, she let's him stay at her place. It's not much, but it's enough for 2 people.
After a few days, he starts helping out in the Clinic as a way to repay her.
After a few weeks, he starts taking on the bigger jobs and starts learning about medical aid
A few months in, and both Danny and Leslie realize that he has basically become her Personal Assistant. So she trains him in the legitimate way, teaching him all she can about being a Doctor and basically everything he would have learned in Medical School, which really helps with his trauma over the whole "constant unethical surgery from people who claimed to be licensed professionals" thing.
He still has those Restraining Cuffs on, they could never figure out how to take them off and they were basically unbreakable, but he was fine on his own.
And a note to add to this is that all of this is taking place in the early Years of Batman, like Years 1 and 2. So it's certainly a shock when Danny walks in for work and sees The Batman lying on a Cot.
Over the many following years, Danny gets used to his life in Gotham. He managed to contact Jazz, and his friends as well, even if they needed to keep it very secret for fear of his parents finding out.
He manages to get on friendly terms with most of the Bat Family from their many, many, many visits to the Clinic.
He never does reveal his past to them, he knows that they would never not poke their noses into it, so he tried to keep it on the down low around them. He even hid his Cuffs all these years. (He doesn't want to attract his parents attention)
But that all changed one day.
He messes up. He accidently calls Jazz outside of their scheduled safe times and his parents just so happen to be visiting her new house at the time. They pick up the call for her, and Danny, not knowing it's not Jazz on the other end, says "Hey Jazz, it's Danny. Just wanted to let you know that I'll he busy with work for a while so I won't be able to call as often".
When he gets no response, he gets concerned and asks "Jazz? You there?"
His parents immediately begin to trace the Call, but before they can get an exact location Danny wises up and hangs up. Buts it's too late, his Parents know he's in Gotham now, even if they don't know exactly where.
Danny doesn't know that they tracked him down though, but he quickly figures it out when Red Hood is rushed into the Clinic a week later after being attacked by "A big guy in an orange jumpsuit with a laser gun", who was joined by "A tiny lady in a blue jumpsuit with a baseball bat"
The Drs Fenton reached Gotham and immediately began tracking any Ecto-Signatures they could find. And Red Hood just so happened to be the closest one.
Now Danny has to find a way to deal with his parents without his powers. Since the Anti-Ecto Laws are still in effect, they aren't technically doing anything Illegal, and their Government Contracts would protect them either way.
He needs to figure out how to get rid of them. Due to the high concentration of Ectoplasm in Gotham, there are many unknowing Liminals in the City. His parents could end up attacking many innocent Civilains in search for him, maybe even subjecting them to the same things he was subjected to.
The only way he can think to do that is to give himself up.
Of course he knows Dr Leslie would disagree, but before she can stop him he sneaks out in the middle of the night, leaving a note thanking her for all that she had done for him over the years. It explains that the people who attacked Red Hood are his infamous Parents, and that they are searching for him. They could end up hurting alot of people if they stay, so he needs to nip this in the bud and is going to turn himself in to them.
She immediately takes the note to Batman.
She still vividly remembers the state she found Danny in. He still has the V-Shaped Scar on his chest from his experiences with his parents, and she'll be damned if she' going to let that happen to him again. (She kind of adopted him as her son a while ago)
She tells them everything. How she found him in the Alley, his injuries, how she nursed him back to health, his story about Meta-Hating Mad Scientist Parents, the unbreakable Cuffs he always hid, all of it.
Now it's a race to find Danny and save him from his Parents again.
#Dp x dc#Danny phantom#Dc#Dcu#Dpxdc#Dc x dp#Dcxdp#Doctors Assistant Danny#Danny as a Doctor#Dr Leslie Thompkins#Batman#Batfamily#Gotham#Danny's parents are the worst#Danny is a good friend#Red Hood is Liminal
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Accepting help: Tulin and the Champions
For all the problems I have with totk, one thing I love about it is the development of the sages, particularly Tulin.
His arc is about learning how to accept help from others, which is so interesting when compared to Revali, who was very isolated and had to be self reliant. Revali seemingly had no family or anyone else in his life to fall back on, and as a result he had to become the best possible version of himself as a warrior to make up for that. In BotW we see Revali go to EXTREME lengths to be the best warrior he can be.
A comparison could even be made between Revali and the rest of the Champions. What they all have in common is that they all died alone in their divine beasts. No one came to rescue them. Zelda and Link had each other, and that’s ultimately how they both managed to survive the calamity. The champions had only themselves to rely on in their final moments, and in the end it wasn’t enough.
But back to Tulin, his arc (and to a lesser extent the other Sages arcs are about this as well) is about accepting help from others. Tulin has his parents, Link and the other Sages to fall back on. Tulin wanted to prove that he was strong enough on his own, but eventually realised that his strength came from those around him. Tulin receives the Great Eagle Bow when he shows that he can be strong AND accept help when he needs it.
Even the new Sage’s powers are all designed in a way that reinforces this. The Champion’s abilities were all gifts that they honed to use by themselves, they used their powers to fight alongside their allies, but still their powers were never really meant to be used though a second party. In a way, their gifts are weakened when they are given to Link. For example Mipha’s Grace can only be used on Link in BotW, but when she was alive she could heal anyone.
By contrast, the Sage’s abilities are supposed to be used with the aid of another, they are amplified by Link. Tulin’s gust is more or less useless to Tulin himself, but with another person it had a lot of utility. Yunobo requires someone to aim him to get the most out of his charge. Riju is still learning how to control her lightning and needs someone else to direct it. While Sidon could probably use the water shield on himself, Sidon wants to protect others, so his power manifests as a physical shield to protect his friend.
This idea of the champions being isolated and not being able to receive much help from others makes a lot of sense. They were the last line of defence for Hyrule, they were the Plan B incase Zelda did not awaken her powers. When they became Champions, all of them were well respected warriors amongst their people, a lot of responsibility fell on them to be the protectors of not only their people, but all of Hyrule. For them to show weakness would mean Hyrule losing faith in their beloved champions.
The new Sages have a support system that the Champions did not have, they are allowed to have faults and not be perfect, because they have other people to support them and I think that’s beautiful.
#the champions didn’t have a support system because they WERE the support system#also when I say that the champions abilities are weakened by giving them to link#that is not a commentary of the strength of their abilities#it’s about the function#the champions abilities have more utility for the champipns themselves than they do for link#botw#totk#revali#urbosa#mipha#daruk#tulin#riju#sidon#yunobo#link#zelda#totk spoilers#the champions#the sages
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takes one to know one
day 26 — cockwarming w/ junhan ⌞⌗ kinktober ⌝
𓂃⠀𓈒 badboy!junhan x fem!reader
genre: smut — mdni! wc: 1.2k
contains: situationship, sub!reader, cockwarming, usage of toys (vibrator), creampie, dirty talk, pet names, slight angst if you squint and brief mention of bruises
[ kinktober masterlist | general masterlist ]
First, he mocked you for the color. “Do they make them all pink?”
Then he mocked you for having a secret drawer. “What could a good girl like you hide anyway?”
Following by a few jokes about you wanting a vibrator at all. “Do you even have time to touch yourself from all this studying?”
You’re surprised to hear so many questions from him one after another, and they’re all about you. He’s usually so reserved no matter who’s around him, quiet and focused only on his own thoughts running in his mind. You’re surprised to see him suddenly bubbly and all because of this.
It seems like stumbling upon one of your secrets was needed to spark his interest to be more vocal, because the last few times he came ringing at your door was to feel physical connection rather than creating an opportunity for you to get to know each other in different ways.
You get it. For you, it feels like a sweet reward every time you learn even the smallest detail about his mysterious life; most of the time you learn those little things from his mother who still remembers you since you and her son used to attend the same high school. Whenever you cross paths in the neighbourhood you never ask about Hyeongjun, but she can’t help share her worries with you sometimes, about him taking the wrong path.
You highly doubt he finds the fact you own a vibrator as something special, but you can understand how he sees you in a new light now.
“Stay still, please.” You murmur quietly, trying to keep your focus on his wounded brow. You're almost done cleaning it up when the familiar buzzing sound suddenly goes off, making you glance down. Hyeongjun’s eyes lower as well and you feel how your entire skin heats up from his amused expression as you sit on his lap. “Stop moving, I just need to put the band aid and you're done,” you say, pretending to disregard his ploy.
Your gazes meet after he slowly brings his attention back to you. The corners of his lips relax, but the playful spark in his tired eyes remains, and for a short moment you feel strong difficulty in looking away from it.
As you carefully place the band aid the distracting noise your wand emits continues beneath you and soon enough rises higher as his thumb seems to force the volume up.
You roll your eyes as you reach to close the aid kit.
“What?” Hyeongjun chuckles provocatively. “It's a toy, we're supposed to play with toys, right?”
The unsettling fresh bruise painting the skin under his right eye steals your attention again, preventing you from acknowledging his teasing.
“At least wait for this one to heal before picking up another fight, okay?”
A pleasant thrill spreads inside you when his free hand appears on top of your thigh; it slowly travels further until it reaches your hip which tempts your own hand to move in the same direction. Not to interrupt anything, but to encourage the way it sneaks beneath your shirt.
“Remember what happened last time I was here?” He asks as the memories he’s recolling turn his voice lower. “Do you keep thinking about it like me?”
“I do,” you nod, guiding his hand higher. A sigh escapes your lips when you both squeeze your boob; the soft sound comes out from the sudden relief you feel from having him touch you again.
You missed it so much although you know it would be safer if you can learn to live without it.
“One more time?” He utters, tugging your bottom lip with his thumb.
Despite being aware of the way you’re only going to complicate your feelings, you allow Hyeongjun to unzip your pants. To kiss you with tongue and to find your clit through your panties that you keep on your body every time.
His mouth lowers to nibble on the sensitive skin of your neck and doesn't retrieve even when you lift up slightly so you can sink down his cock.
Just like last time.
You still haven’t had actual sex. You just keep him inside and make out until one of you cums first. It feels pleasantly fulfilling and yet not enough at the same time.
The swift, smooth entering into your wet walls makes him grunt softly just below your earlobe before he makes you moan from yet another sloppy kiss.
Hyeongjun’s lips finally take a break as he turns your vibrator back on, placing it against your clothed folds.
“When you use this little thing,” his low tone makes your body tingle with each following word, “do you think about the things we do?”
“Do you want me to?”
“I'm asking the questions here, baby.”
You take longer to respond as he forces the head of the toy harder onto your clit. The waves of stimulation invade your body even stronger, causing you to squirm in his hands, but to also clench around his cock with intensity as you envelop him in warmth.
“Yeah,” you admit, opening your glossy eyes,” I think about a lot of things... How we take things further.”
You didn’t expect to spit it out like that, but seems like the buzzing stimulation makes you lose control over your own mind.
Your hand glides up Hyeongjun’s chest who can only stare at you with slight surprise. He’s too fixated on the question why would a good, well educated girl like you, want to have sex with a guy like him… He fixates on it a bit too much to his liking.
“Oh, yeah?” He murmurs while suppressing another groan provoked by your strong tensing. “Does imagining me fuck your tight cunt makes you cum?” He traces his lazy gaze from your panties all the way up to your eyes just when they’re about to squeeze shut; the same moment your hips make a needy movement which he makes sure to prevent right away. “Shit, hold still, doll.”
The fingers of his spare hand sink forcefully into your skin to keep you steady, meanwhile yours wrap around his black shirt for support. The vibrations still focused on the same spot push you higher towards the edge and you can tell the rush is going to wash over you soon.
“I want to see her so badly,” he mutters, glancing down at your panties adjusted to one side. “She’s keeping me warm so well.” The corner of his mouth slides in satisfaction as your moaning turns uncontrollable. His expression quickly changes to something desperate though after his jaw drops open in awe.
As your walls grip onto him during the overwhelming seconds of your orgasm, his own climax hits him hard, and Hyeongjun’s fist tightens around the handle of the vibrator till his knuckles go white.
Your thighs shake, your minds turn foggy and you both forget to breathe while the moment of bliss lasts; feeling even better than the previous one.
“You know what?” Hyeongjun speaks up after a moment of waiting for your breathing to come back to normal. The nice after effects are settling into your skin as you simply let your eyes wonder all over the other’s face.
You’re still sitting still, with walls warm, marked by his cum and hugging him tight as he continues his thought after a pause that you’re not sure how to understand:
“My mom thinks I should hangout with you more often. She thinks that a good girl like you can fix me.”
! please do not repost, copy or translate my works
! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed
#kinktober#kinktober 2024#— writing: xdinary heroes#xdinary heroes smut#junhan smut#han hyeongjun smut#junhan hard thoughts#hyeongjun hard thoughts#xdh smut#junhan x reader#hyeongjun x reader#xdinary heroes x reader#xdh x reader
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The hand rubbing scene is the gayest sex scene GMMtv has ever had on screen, allow me to explain to you why.
Gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul 
Now I can’t speak as someone who is completely blind (obviously) but I can speak as someone who has been progressively losing their sight for the past 15 years - ironically enough from a car accident. Why hello Day, I see you! (pun intended) But I’m also a person who grew up HoH (hard of hearing) from the age of two years old onward, I had tubes put in my ears, wore hearing aids, the whole shebang. The chances of me actually regaining my ability to hear completely was very very slim, the fact that I did actually end up regaining some - not all - of my hearing by my late twenties was a damn shock to us all. The point being, when you are a person who’s lost one of your senses that you are used to having, your body starts to overcompensate.
Most everyone has heard/read/seen things about how removing one sense can lead to your other ones becoming stronger. There’s even been studies that show people born deaf or deafened at a very young age, that their brain starts to rewire itself to allow them to experience sound in a visual way, via touch. It’s sort of like how blind people learn to read braille in a way, the touch creates a picture in your mind allowing you to see the way that word looks and sounds and feels. Theres a whole bit in Scientific America you can check out if you want that breaks it down in layman terms without the writing acting like you’re stupid, which is always nice when it comes to medical jargon lol.
So my point that to Day, his sense of touch is not only in overdrive because it like much of the rest of his senses - smell seems to be a big one they’re leading with - are scambling to try and overcompensate for the sudden lack of sight that is getting worse as time passes. But because he had pulled away from basically the entire world post blindness setting in, spending the last year of his life in his room hardly interacting with anyone, his own mother and brother barely being allowed to touch him. That for Day, his sense of touch is absolutely frantic. Which is why it’s so important for Mhok to constantly place his hands on him, not only to help lead him back into the world but to allow Day to recognize him by touch alone. And it’s being shown that he is, Day already knows Mhok’s voice and it’s touched a bit on the way he smells (ciggs) but this last episode is really starting to show how the touch of people is starting to fully affect Day, especially when he’s out of the house and how Mhok is instantly recognized even though he always follows up his touch with a vocal confirmation that it is in fact him that is touching Day.
So that hand stroking scene, the way Mhok runs the pads of his fingers gently up the centre of Day’s palm, how he strokes the back of his hand like it’s a kitten. That right there could genuinely feel like sex to Day, if not sexual in manner at the very least. The fuzzy look Day gets in his eyes, going from blank, to blissful to bashful and then finally awkward. It wasn’t just because of the fact that the dude he lowkey is starting to have a crush on is rubbing his hand in what I’m seeing being called a ‘weirdly intimate way’. It’s because Day’s body and brain is reacting to that touch in a way that people with all five senses might not completely comprehend, imagine your most intense erogenous zone (btw the palms of the hands are occasionally considered one) now imagine if that intensity was ramped up by ten, or twenty or even fifty and then imagine that that erogenous zone was suddenly everywhere. The most innocuous part of your body could bring you the most incredible sensations, both sexual and emotional, that’s what Day is feeling.
Mhok, now Mhok, he’s not stupid. Far from it in fact, he’s clued in on that not only is Day queer but also that he has a bit of a crush on him. Mhok has also quickly adapted to how he needs to teach Day to see the world in a new way, hence all the touching and smelling and reinforcement that Day can in fact do things for himself, including asking for help when he needs it. So Mhok knew exactly what he was doing with the hand rubbing, sort of. Did he know the sensation would be heightened, my best bet is totally. But did he expect to have his reaction to it go beyond that of teasing? Given his own bashfulness, doubtful. When you’re dating someone with a loss of one or many senses, you tend to change your own preconceived notions of what intimacy with your partner is. For some people offering a foot rub to their partner is a clear come on, an offer for something to lead to more. But for a blind person, especially a newly blind person like Day. They use their hands to navigate their entire world - you literally read with your fingers - so a blind persons hands are basically their most important tools in a lot of ways. To have someone touch your hands with such care, such reverence, it’s not just intimate, it’s full on foreplay.
Mhok wasn’t just touching Day, he was touching Day. It was meant to be seen as intimate because it was intimate, so intimate, in a way I don’t think either Mhok nor Day were expecting it to be because neither had ever experienced something like that before. That scene was truly the beginning of their relationship shifting, that hand scene was kind of like their first kiss.
Gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
#last twilight the series#mhokday#morkday#jimmysea#nontraditional intimacy#for real tho#JimmySea played that scene so freaking well#this entire show makes me happy#to have some sort of queer representation that I connect with so well#like Day I totally get you bb#also sorry for yanking your gifs Wanderlust#hope you don’t mind :)
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There's sooo so much to say about kabumisu and the parallels between Kabru and Mithrun in their individual characters and how both their similarities and their fundamental differences make them absolutely perfect for one another, both in the sense that they work together romantically and that they both helped one another grow as individuals to such an immense degree. They were each exactly what they needed, even when they have different values or alignments.
But something that just Gets Me is that. Both Kabru and Mithrun exist with one specific goal in each of their mind's. Kabru might seem less single-minded that Mithrun, but you have to consider how he goes about pursuing his goal: getting people to like him. He uses his charm and likeability, flexes his relationships, and gathers information - but it all comes back to the goal he has: preventing a second Utaya. We're told from the start that that is Kabru's goal and we see it reinforced multiple times on the way through the manga.
I feel like a lot of people in fandom overlook the impact Utaya had on Kabru and how it impacted his psyche and his motivations. But here's the thing: I think to some degree, this was what Ryoko Kui was intending. Kabru's overall intentions are well stated, I think, but we then see a lot of his actions and words that don't always seem directly related to this one-track mission, and it allows us this room to kind of question it and wonder if there's something else at play here.
Mithrun, on the other hand, seems relentlessly and directly devoted to his goal. He doesn't act on things that aren't directly related to his cause -- that is all we see in him. We don't have the same room to wonder about his intentions or motivations because we can plainly see that everything is directly related.
It's incredibly interesting to see how these two overlap: They both have their own one-track goals, but go about them in completely separate ways. Kabru uses his likeability and his charm to get what he needs to fulfil said goal, and sometimes that involves "detours"; Mithrun doesn't have the capacity for that, and he just runs straight at the issue. Neither Kabru nor Mithrun's story is fully revealed to the reader - we hear of Utaya, we hear the story told, but the flashes we see are only that: Flashes. A lot of Kabru's backstory is not revealed to the reader. Mithrun's story, on the other hand, is revealed through an unreliable narrator who we know cut out significant portions. Kabru is the one to tell Mithrun that he deserves to have his privacy, and that the world doesn't need to know everything, because Mithrun overshares to a point that could be self-detrimental.
They both have a goal, and a one-track mind for said goal. But they have so much they can learn from one another - and do learn from one another. They are both underhanded, they disregard themselves and don't take care of themselves the way they should, they're relentless in the pursuit of their goals... but they're also polar opposites in some things.
And all of this, when put together, forms them into two perfect puzzle pieces. These characters could have been made for one another in terms of helping each of them grow as individuals: each one is exactly what the other needed to aid their growth. They're insane. I love them.
#this is probably absolutely nothing it's 1am but I'm in my feels#they're so. AUUHGHGUGHGHGU#kabumisu#mithrun#kabru#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon spoilers
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Tim’s my blorbo so I’ll always take more Tim content
Apparently Cadmus knew Experiment Thirteen was the one to invest in because Experiment Thirteen had a soulmark.
Apparently Cadmus also considered terminating Experiment Thirteen because Experiment Thirteen had a soulmark.
Tim knows this because he broke into the place and stole a copy of Superboy's file the day after they met.
He also knows what Superboy's soulmark looks like, because these absolute bastards not only took multiple pictures of it, they put those pictures in his fucking file. Not even, like, classified or tucked away behind a firewall or a password or anything. Not even in a seperate folder. Just right there in his standard file where literally any random scientist or doctor or goddamn intern could trip right over them without even meaning to.
Forget the fucking mind control; that's fucked up.
So yeah. Tim knows what Superboy's soulmark looks like. It's a stark, dark red, all sharp angles slung low in the V of his Adonis belt and cutting from one hip to the other, looking not unlike a stylized bird in flight coming at the viewer head-on. Bold. Undeniable. Very much like Superboy himself, really.
And exactly like the mark that came in on Tim when, he now knows, Superboy was first put together in a fucking petri dish. So that's . . . a whole thing, there.
Well. At least his soulmate is only literally fifteen years younger than him, not physically and mentally.
Although that doesn't really seem like a big improvement, to be honest.
Tim didn't even know he was into guys, actually? Definitely didn't know Superboy was into guys, all things considered. Like, he would not expect somebody like him to ever be subtle about who or what he was into.
Maybe they're platonics, Tim tries to tell himself. The fact that his first thought upon learning that Superboy was his soulmate was immediately questioning his own sexuality doesn't really support that theory, though.
Though it does help explain why Poison Ivy putting her hands on the guy had pissed him off so bad.
Like. It very much does.
Tim doesn't actually know what to do about this. Bruce still thinks he doesn't even have a soulmate, due to Tim previously really, really not wanting to deal with the absolute embarrassment of admitting that said soulmate was an actual fucking baby, so Tim never got the Bat-version of the soulmate talk. Bruce'd sat him down to give it to him when he'd first become Robin, but Tim hadn't had a mark then, obviously, so they'd both just assumed he didn't have to worry about it. Tim is pretty sure Bruce had been as relieved as he had to dodge that particular bullet, really. Apparently Dick had needed visual aids and hadn't understood the "gilly talk" version. And Jason had had questions.
Lots of questions.
Creative ones.
Sometimes Tim suspects Jason might've been an asshole. Like, just a little bit of one.
So no, Tim does not blame Bruce for deciding to skip that particular talk with him, especially when they'd both thought he wasn't gonna need to know any of it anyway.
So . . . yeah. He doesn't know how he's supposed to approach this situation. Obviously telling Superboy that they're soulmates would compromise Tim's secret identity and therefore Bruce's, and everybody and their damn mother knows Superboy himself doesn't even have a secret identity so it's not like Tim can figure that out and approach him that way.
On the other hand, not telling him that they're soulmates isn't a great start to being soulmates, now is it.
Crap, Tim thinks.
Then he calls Dick, because if he has to sit through the Bat-version of the soulmate talk, at least maybe Dick will be slightly less embarrassing to hear it from.
As long as there's no visual aids involved, anyway.
"Hey, Tim," Dick greets as he picks up the phone. Tim has a carefully crafted plan of attack, of course; several, in fact. He's got all sorts of subtle ways to lead the conversation without revealing anything too damning or too specific and while keeping everything in hypotheticals. Just making the whole thing either a quick thought exercise or casual curiosity from an unmarked kid who's heard one too many soulmate stories and wants to know more. So Tim's prepared. Tim's ready.
Tim panics.
"Poison Ivy kissed my soulmate and I want to burn down her entire life," he blurts.
"Uh," Dick says. "You're . . . gonna have to catch me up a little here, baby bird. For starters, I thought you didn't have a soulmate."
"I didn't," Tim says as he starts to pace back and forth across his bedroom, because he's already screwed this up so there's no point in playing coy now. "Then some dickheads in Metropolis decided to steal Superman's dead body and make a cocky asshole with douchey shades and a leather fetish out of it."
"Ohhhhh boy," Dick says. "What'd B say?"
"I found out like half an hour ago and you're the only person I've told, so nothing yet," Tim says. "What's the Bat-protocol for finding out your soulmate is somebody in the community, exactly? Specifically somebody in douchey shades?"
"Depends," Dick says. "How'd the kid react?"
". . . I don't know how to say this without sounding like a total creep, but he doesn't know," Tim admits with a wince. "I broke into Cadmus to make a copy of his file after I met him and they just . . . had his soulmark in it. Like. There wasn't even a password. It wasn't even in an isolated folder. It was just there."
"That is the most fucked up thing I've heard since the last time I had to talk to Jervis Tetch," Dick mutters in obvious disgust. "Alright, well, how are you reacting, then?"
"My soulmate is a baby," Tim grumbles disgruntledly, dropping into his desk chair. "A baby who is also a teenager."
"Tim, you're a teenager too," Dick reminds him wryly. "You are very much so a teenager too, in fact."
"Yeah, and it sucks," Tim says emphatically. "And I have, like, actual legal guardians and a home and a trust fund. Superboy just lives somewhere in Hawaii with a sleazy businessman and his kid and some random guy from Cadmus!"
"That's, uh, actually not great," Dick says, sounding a little troubled.
"You think?!" Tim demands. "He's a baby! An infant! And he lives with his frigging manager!"
"What the actual hell," Dick says.
"Just–is it ethical to kidnap your own soulmate and does that even matter if they're not legally a person and so you couldn't actually be charged for anything anyway?" Tim mutters speculatively, drumming his fingers on his desk for a moment and then booting up his computer. "I mean, B can't get mad at me for doing it if the courts can't get me for doing it, right?"
"Wait, Superboy's not legally a person?" Dick asks incredulously.
"Nope," Tim says. "Which neither Cadmus nor the sleazebag selling his likeness for a living has in any way tried to correct, for the record. Technically he's classified as intellectual property, but Cadmus forfeited legal possession when Superman turned up alive again, presumably to avoid Superman ever finding out that they'd had said legal possession, so technically if I went and kidnapped him it'd be more like . . . salvage, maybe? Like, in the eyes of the law, I mean."
"Yeah, okay, in that case kidnapping your own soulmate might be less an ethics question and more a moral obligation," Dick says.
"Good point," Tim says, frowning consideringly as he pulls up his browser. "Do you think if I just do it as Tim Drake I can avoid compromising my identity?"
"I have no idea but if I were you I'd already be booking my flight and thinking up a cheap excuse to 'accidentally' flash a teen heartthrob superhero my soulmark anyway," Dick says.
"I am already booking my flight," Tim says mid-click of said booking. "Although, uh, flashing him our particular soulmark might require, like . . . third base, and I don't even know if he likes guys. I don't even know if he knows if he likes guys, he's like five minutes out of the cloning tube and like, I'm literally fifteen and don't know if I like guys, so why the hell would he?"
"Okay, yeah, that could be an issue," Dick says. "Hm. Wardrobe malfunction? Slutty beach day? Wet T-shirt contest?"
"I'm not above any of those options at this point, frankly," Tim grumbles, even though those ideas are all very "Nightwing" and not very "Robin". Technically he shouldn't be approaching this like Robin would anyway, because god forbid Superboy recognize his methodology.
Slutty beach day might have to be a thing, Tim realizes with resigned dread. He is really not comfortable with slutty beach day being a thing.
. . . maybe if he just gets lucky, he can catch Superboy having his own slutty beach day. Not to make any assumptions, just Tim's pretty sure if either of them were ever going to be the type to wear a speedo or low-waisted swim trunks or just walk around with their soulmark out in general . . .
Which, in Superboy's defense, well–his soulmark is already on file with Cadmus, so yeah. He might not even care if other people see it or not, considering that.
Then again, if Tim knew that a bunch of random strangers who'd wanted to mind-control him had all seen and taken pictures of his soulmark, he'd never wear anything that risked exposing it again. Like. Ever.
Possibly he'd just live and die in a wetsuit. Or coveralls. Overalls. Or just–whatever. Something like that.
. . . come to think of it, Superboy's costume is all one piece, isn't it.
Cadmus is full of assholes, Tim decides as he confirms his booking, then gets up to throw together a go-bag. He has no plan whatsoever, but whatever; it's a twelve-hour flight. He's gonna have time to think something up.
One go-through with airport security and a twelve-hour flight later, Tim has not thought anything up.
Dammit.
#timkon#tim drake#kon el#dc robin#superboy#anonymous#long post#wip: kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit
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better
Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
summary - you think you don't do enough for the crew so you work harder and train harder to be better. Ace thinks you do plenty already, but supports your decision regardless.
warnings - none
a/n: i hope the person who requested this sees it, because me being a dumbass at 3am, i accidentally deleted the reply to the request. i also hope i got it right!
You could admit that you were not the most useful crewmember of the Whitebeard pirates. In fact, you felt completely useless, like you couldn't contribute anything meaningful or helpful. But you didn't want to be that way, you didn't want to be just a burden to them, even if Ace would constantly remind you that you're not a burden and you were helpful. To him, at least.
But you wanted to be helpful to the entire crew. In fights, you wanted to be able to hold your own without being told to go hide or go check on the injured. You wanted to be able to fight without having to depend on your boyfriend to come save you if you were faced with an opponent.
"(Name) are you even listening?" A deep chuckle met your ears, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You turned away from the shop window, smiling at Ace sheepishly, "I'm sorry, just...lost in thought." The way you said it and the way your smile didn't quite reach your ears alerted Ace to what you were thinking about.
"Hey," he took both your hands and brought you a little closer, "If it bothers you so much, I can always teach you a few things." He looked at the items you were eyeing from the shop and smirked. "Daggers, huh? Come on." He tugged you into the shop to help you choose a set.
-
After a very long few hours choosing a pair of pretty yet lethal daggers (Ace was the indecisive one), you both made your way back to the ship. You were staring at the sharp weapons in your hands, marveling at how dangerous they looked and feeling excited to finally learn to be at least a little bit effective.
"Okay let's start with some basic stances," he began, his hand reaching for your hip to position it. "Place one leg like this, and the other like this." He demonstrated his words, showing you how to stand and how to position your arms.
"Ace," you laughed a few minutes later, "I'm pretty sure my butt does not need to be in any specific position."
His beet-red face popped up in front of you, a coy smile on his lips, "Sorry babe, couldn't help myself."
He spent the rest of the afternoon teaching you basic combat moves and acting as your personal hype man, cheering excessively when you got something right just to boost your confidence. It was working, and you were grateful to have such a supportive and helpful boyfriend.
-
After a few more days of this, you were starting to get the hang of it. Your combat skills had drastically improved, and while you still hadn't managed to beat Ace, there was massive progress and you felt it.
But aside from combat, you also wanted to be more knowledgeable in other fields. Like first aid. In case of emergencies, you wanted to know how to deal with injuries and minor wounds that could be fixed right then and there. You didn't want to be an all-out doctor or medic, but you wanted to have at least a little medical knowledge.
So you took to medical books.
You read everything you could get your hands on, even staying up late at night to study. Sometimes you would even fall asleep at your desk, which is where Ace would find you in the morning. It worried him, but he also didn't want to stop you from learning.
"You should read it to me," he suggested one afternoon, while he was lying in bed with you after having to force you to stop when your eyes started to droop.
"Hmm?" You looked up at him sleepily, "Read what?"
"Those medical books you're reading," his warms hands rested on your stomach, putting you at ease. "You should talk to me about what you learn, it could help you remember."
You smiled when he offered to listen to you, "Are you sure you'll be able to keep up?"
He gasped dramatically, "What do you think I am? Stupid?"
"Yes," you teased.
He feigned offence, playfully scoffing, "I detest that."
"I'm kidding," you laughed, shifting so you could bury your face in his neck. "But thanks for the offer. I might just take you up on that."
And you did. Every time you were reading, Ace was with you whenever he could be. He sat and listened to you explain and discuss the human anatomy, how to dress certain injuries and what steps to take if there wasn't a medic around. He really didn't follow along, and he often fell asleep, but you appreciated the effort he was making to encourage you.
"Aceeeee!" You giggled and flicked his nose gently.
"Wha-?" He jerked awake, eyes flitting around the room before settling on you, and a lovestruck smile formed on his lips. "Oh, hey babe."
"You fell asleep again," you pouted, unable to stop your smile.
"I'm sorryyyyy," he apologised, leaning forward and kissing all over your face. It tickled, and the laughs he pulled from you made him smile. "Carry on, I'm listening now."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
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I've always been a true believer of medic mikey and I've been thinking a lot of 2012 medic mikey today
so here's a bunch of thoughts about it from my twt if it feels weirdly paced and chopped it's because i just copy and pasted from different posts
Mikey probably started with the want of learning more about medicine after leo ends up in a coma.
Kind of like a brutal awakening that his older brothers are not invincible
until that point he probably helped both donnie and leo with basic first aid, since in 2012, the brothers all seem to know some sort of basic medical knowledge to a certain point (raph carries a first aid with him in half shell heroes meaning they all probably have their own).
Mikey probably sees leo burdened with his father's shadow and the weight of being the leader and letting everyone down, raph so worried about them at all times and so angry at himself for not being able to protect his family better, donnie mostly always stressed out. with no sleep. always having to FIX something and all this probably make mikey realize that putting being a medic on top of any of his brothers would just be for the worst so he decides to take it into himself to specialize in that part.
Mikey would ask help for getting more information to study about medicine and turtle health veterinary from both donnie and april (april would love to help +she can get more physical aid like books from libraries and such while donnie is the one brother who doesn't actually mind what mikey asks him and also actually answers his questions with facts). While studying he most probably would forget a lot about the scientific or actual names for different things so he would just make up his own designations because that way it makes sense to him (his brothers would all learn later on about mikey's own system perhaps because it's just them and it's not like mikey is going to go work at a hospital so it doesn't really affect them much).
Being the group medic just would fit him so well because hes very smart and not squeamish about A LOT of things in comparison to his brothers (throwback to when donnie did said he was actually squeamish in the show) so donnie probably would also encourage him in his studies and even try to help him to retain info with different methods that actually work with Mikey (because of adhd brain) like making references to his favorite show or comics while learning medical info to make it easier for him to focus.
The fact that mikey is the most perceptive of his brothers and also the one to keep a cool head when all of the other ones are losing it, would be factors that help him while being the medic as well.
Mikey being the smallest one and fastest of his brothers so hes probably the only one who could make it to any of them in record time if needed be.
I feel like, since 2012 mikey is the one brother who uses his skateboard the most, he probably would start bringing his skate strapped to his shell everywhere because he can use it as an emergency medical stretcher to move his brothers around in the case he was not able to carry them around physically
maybe even begging leo for a longboard later on because they are bigger which, again, could help him in emergency situations.
Thinking also on how leo probably didn't really talk much about the healing hands technique with his brothers so mikey probably unlocked the healing hands in his own way and in a really high stress situation where the sheer willing force was just wanting to help his family.
Mikey would definitely sing staying alive while giving cpr: muttering the lyrics along in a frenetic way while punching his brother's chest, because of their plastrons, and trying to get him to breath again all while listening his other brothers yells be deafened by the sound of lasers pass by over their heads.
And after being home and safe, he'd give everyone those lollipops right after quickly making sure none of them are dealing with a concussion (he is but hes fine, he promises).
Extra: some replies in twt that i also wanted to share here
#MANY THOUGHTS BRAIN FULL.#i think that's all and i didnt miss anything from the big ass thread i wrote but i might be wrong....#everyone is so lucky im not a writer.#tmnt 2012#tmnt mikey#tmnt michelangelo#fer silly twt rambling
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TWO SIDES AU!!
(Finished fully. I'm not changing anything now.)
Two sides AU is just two sides that kinda fight every now and then. When a player first enters the game they're randomly placed in a team (they don't choose)
Team A or Team C
Each round all players get 3 lives and once they lose all 3 they can't respawn until the game is over.
The goal of the game is to elimate the other team. When a team wins they now own that territory until they have to fight for it again.
What they're hoping to do is get rid of the other team for good so they can escape the game
Both sides currently think the other team is a bunch of npcs created by their ringmasters.
TEAM A
AIBEL
The leader of team A. He absolutely despises Caine yet he barely knows him and doesn't even know why he hates him so much. He clearly hasn't questioned this yet and is more busy keeping the players from burning the tent down.
GANGLE
Surprisingly the both strongest of Team A. When it comes to fighting she feels really bad about hurting the other team (unless they have their comedy mask on...) so if you're somehow still conscious after you get whacked by that hammer, you'll most likely hear them repeatedly apologize for hitting you.
JAX
(now with mime inspiration) Jax often enters the battle recklessly and never bothers to help his teammates. (They hate him) he also enjoys to constantly taunt and insult the other team, especially when he manages to gets a kill.
(for short, he's an asshole.)
ZOOBLE
Zooble doesn't like to rely on the others, and instead creates themselves a little army with small parts from their zoobox. But the thing is the critters have little HP and so taking them down is quite easy as long as you don't let them get too close to you.
QUEENIE
When the fight starts she tries to stay far and out of sight while taking down her opponents since she isn't the best with close combat. Although if it ever comes to it she'll leave her hiding spot and come to their teammates aid.
TEAM C
CAINE
The leader of Team C. He also dislikes aibel with no clue on why and a little bit of him wishes they didn't fight so much. But everytime they interact it ends in pointless arguing and bickering..
RAGATHA
Ragatha tries her best to help the team and lead them to victory. And so when her teammates are almost down she hurries to patch up any of their wounds. (literally patch it as in sewing.) Attempting to kill ragatha off first won't be easy since she always has her butcher knife prepared.
POMNI
A newer addition to Team C
She's still confused about everything in this place and rather leave than learn more about it, So often times she'll ditch her entire team to go and try searching for a way out. But when she's forced to stay in the fight she prefers to sneak up on her opponents exactly how she sneaks around the circus. (This is the reason she has no bells)
KAUFMO
(it's hard to draw him in my style :[ ) The second kaufmo gets on the field, everything is on fire. It's become a real problem to the point where outside of battle everyone tries their best to keep anything thats able to start a fire away from him, yet he always somehow finds a box of matches or two.
KINGER
When it comes to the battle kinger more focuses on his traps than the actual fight in hopes to catch a insect for his collection. (He has none so far.) If you let him, he'd go on rambles about the many traps he's thought of overtime and how they'd work. (Probably mentioning insects along the way)
EXTRA
I sadly reached the limit of 10 images so I'll just make a separate post and link it to this 😭
Extras here
#the amazing digital circus#au#tadc#theamazingdigitalcircus#tadc au#tadc two sides au#pomni tadc#ragatha tadc#caine tadc#zooble tadc#gangle tadc#queenie tadc#kinger tadc#jax tadc#kaufmo tadc#tadc pomni#tadc ragatha#tadc caine#tadc zooble#tadc gangle#tadc queenie#tadc kinger#tadc jax#tadc kaufmo#art#the amazing digital circus au
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