#not knowing the word for wheelchair for example

[personshapedsplder]

So if we're working off the logic that the kiy has been split in 2 halves, yellow and john, then that means that the king had john back for, what, maybe a solid half hour before throwing him away? And then immediately after that he got fucking snatched by kayne? So how is it that yellow remembers the dark world? Did kayne throw him in there to just deep fry him a little? Is 1 kiy + 1 dark world the recipe for a john? And then what happens to the kings body in the dreamlands? Did he just collapse where he stood? Are the cultists drawing dicks on his face?

Idk what's funnier, the idea that the kiy got john back and then immediately after lost ANOTHER slice of himself once his back was turned OR that he himself was whisked away to the exact position he just got john out of and was 100% powerless to stop it. Either way it makes him a bit of a loser and I love him for it

[theonewiththefanfics]

Sisyphus No Longer (one-shot)

Synopsis: Robby knows chaos intimately. He knows how to navigate it, and guide others through. But sometimes life throws a curveball so big, not even he can get out of the range of impact.

Pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x fem!Reader

Genre: mainly fluffy, lil bit of angst (Robby just lives in an anxious state of mind worrying about his girlfriend)

Warnings: swearing, bit of medical talk (hopefully mostly accurate lol, nothing explicit, though if you pick up on anything please do let me know, and I'll add it here 😊), innuendos, but no smut this time around.

Word count: 10,879 (here we go again 🙃)

This is a follow-up to An Itch You Can't Scratch, but I think you can read this on its own as well :) Please don't copy my work or repost it onto other platforms. all of the characters belong to HBO Max.

Robby’s life was chaos. But it was chaos he was used to.

         He knew how to navigate it, like a ship under the blanket of fog. Knew how to bend the mist to his will, and twist it to reveal the correct course of action.

         For example, chaos causer No. 1 – Myrna.

         She was a regular at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital. She dished out verbal assaults, like it was a Friday at a bar, trying to flash anyone who even threw her a glance, all the while being handcuffed to a wheelchair. The one time she’d managed to Houdini her way out, had sent the whole unit into a tailspin.

         But Myrna was a constant in his life. She brought a sense of levity during his incredibly stressful days and allowed him to crack a grin or two. He was her Fruitcake and she was his Fruitfly. They just worked like that.

         Then there was chaos causer No. 2 – Good old Gloria.

         If there was one thing in the world Robby hated, other than people who took their primary medical advice from Reddit forums, it was suits, and people in them. Especially those that tried to run hospitals, while prioritizing cost-cutting, instead of the safety of their staff and patients.

         “Would people recommend this emergency department to their friends or loved ones?” Gloria had asked him a couple of days prior, singing her usual song, albeit in a slightly different key.

         The only thing that’d saved her had been the fact a mother had walked in with her five-year-old son, a piece of crayon stuck in his nose.

         “Gloria, quite honestly, nobody is walking around recommending emergency departments, because nobody wants to be here. The last thing on the mind of someone with a split open head or a dying parent is leaving a five-star review. But sure. Be my guest. How about you go around the people sitting here, having waited eight hours to be seen, and ask them what they thought of the service today.”

         She bristled at his light, but clearly aggravated tone. “I imagine eight hours is a long time to wait.”

         “It is. You know how we could cut it down?” He crossed his arms. “More nurses. More staff. More equipment. It’s that easy. But unless you wish to get a rainbow sneezed on you, I suggest you walk away.”

         She wasn’t amused by his words, but when Dana sidled up, helping him steady the kid against the unpleasant feel of forceps digging around his nose for a sky-blue piece of crayon, she muttered in a low tone, “This is all alleged, and if anyone asks, nobody has seen or heard anything. But there’s a rumor going around, that someone might’ve put sardines behind the radiator of a certain someone’s car.”

         It had taken everything in Robby not to bust out laughing, even as the kid sprayed him with cerulean snot, which brought him to chaos causer(s) No. 3 – the whole of the Pitt.

         Ever since his one-night-stand and fleeing escapade had been revealed a month prior, by none other than the woman who was his girlfriend now, nobody was allowing him to live down the words she’d dished out upon her admission to the ED.

         Four hours.

         Shaking mess.

         God fucking help him.

         He was Mr. Stamina now.

         A ladies’ man (though he considered himself the man of only one specific lady).

         His closest friend Jack Abbot had even heard about this. As he’d come in to overtake the Pitt the evening after Y/N’s discharge, he’d clapped Robby on the back and requested his tips and tricks for lasting that long in bed.

         “What?” Robby scoffed, pulling off his stethoscope and zipping up his bag. “I can handle a whole ED on top of the hospital board for twelve hours straight, yet you don’t think I can handle one woman for four?”

         “I never said that.” Jack lifted his hands in mock surrender. “The real question is – when you two first met – was that during one of your seven days off-shift?”

         “Fuck you, man.” Robby pushed past him, ears reddening like ripe raspberries.

         “Nah, brother. That job seems to be taken already.”

         Robby had just given him the middle finger as he walked away and clocked out.

         That had been his life every single day since Y/N had taken a chance on him, and had become the one chaos-causer he was still trying to adjust to.

         It had been a little over a month since she’d broken her leg, and it had been a little over a month since they’d officially started dating.

(He’d scoffed at the term at first. “Dating?” he’d asked. “In my big old age?”

         “Okay,” Y/N had mocked him. “Would you like to call it ‘wooing’? ‘Courting’? Do we need a chaperone to watch over as we graze our fingers alo-,”

         “Alright,” he sighed. “Point taken.”)

         He couldn’t be any happier though. The way they’d gotten reintroduced wasn’t one he wished to repeat because seeing Y/N in any kind of mild discomfort made him wince, but he would always be thankful for the universe granting him another opportunity.

         He wouldn’t say that by the time she’d come to his place of work with a bone sticking out of her leg, he’d given up on love for himself, but Robby had resigned to the fact that maybe, a relationship, a romantic kind of love, wasn’t in the cards for him anymore.

         And yet now, as he dragged his tired legs over to the place she shared with her best friend Sara, his mind couldn’t help but wonder what had he done in this life or maybe a past one, that’d granted him such happiness. 

          A paper bag of croissants crinkled as he patted down his trousers, searching for the spare key Y/N had given him. Mainly it was because Sara was sometimes out late bartending at her second job, and his girlfriend, her leg still in a cast, was slow to move around the apartment. But still, Robby always knocked first.

It felt intimate, coming into her space like that.

         Like returning home, rather than simply staying over at someone else’s place.

         He heard shuffling and voices echo before Sara opened the door, welcoming him inside. His brown eyes ventured to the couch on instinct where he’d usually find Y/N, her leg on the coffee table while the two friends watched a movie or a show or a serial killer documentary, only to find it empty.

         Robby didn’t have to wonder long where she was, as he turned his neck and found Y/N in a heated conversation, her back towards the living area of the studio-type apartment, phone on speaker as a male voice argued back.

 His brain was immediately overtaken by the doctor side of it – he wondered how long had she been standing for. Had she elevated her leg at all during the day? What was her pain level? But the words that came out of her mouth completely overrode the code, as it wasn’t something he expected to hear at all.

         “No, you know what you’ve done, Harry? You’ve effectively killed our mother.”

         “What’s going on?” Robby asked Sara, as the woman plopped down onto the couch, his gaze frantically scanning Y/N’s form. “Is Mrs. Y/L/N alright?”

         Sara waved him off. “She’s fine. In fact, she’s never been better. No thanks to the hurricane over there though. Just listen. Y/N’s been ripping her brother a new one for like twenty minutes already.”

         Placing his backpack onto a chair, and sliding to sit on the armrest, he watched as Y/N opened and closed random cabinets, her back taut as a string.

         Even angry she was beautiful, Robby thought.

         Maybe old and worn men like him did deserve kind and gentle things.

         However, the way she spoke to her brother, well... She was as gentle as a cactus spike. “Harry, why the fuck would you do that? Why the fuck would you let her go alone?”

         “She’s not gonna be alone, holy shit, Y/N/N! Take a fucking chill pill!” her brother exasperated on the other end of the line. “Dad’s going with!”

         “Oh, great!” She threw her hands up and slammed an overhead cupboard closed. “That’s just fucking fantastic! You’ve turned us into Annie! Do you not have enough braincells to realize just how many people go missing while on cruises?”

         Robby looked towards Sara who was watching the drama unfold with a wineglass in her hand. “Cruises?”

         “One of her mom’s dreams has been to go on a cruise,” she explained. “She’s been joking that when one of her kids makes a million, they’ll get her a cruise pass.”

         “And Y/N’s brother made a million?” From what he’d been told, Harry was five years younger than his sister. “Smart kid.”

         “Dumb kid.” Sara snorted. “And not a millionaire. He just lives to torture her, I guess. He got their parents cruise passes for Y/M/N's birthday three days ago. Y/N even chipped in thinking it was for a new car or something. Quite frankly, I’m with Harry on this one. Their parents deserve a nice vacation in the Caribbean, but when Y/M/N phoned her to thank them for the present the two got for her…” Sara whistled. “I thought an eye might pop out of her skull. Or at least a vein, so now she’s been having the most epic crash-out. Want some popcorn?”

 He could do nothing but shake his head and cross his arms, a smile blooming on his lips as he watched Y/N war with her brother.

         “And if they get killed?” Y/N glared down at the phone on the kitchen counter. “It’s international waters! No jurisdiction wants to deal with that shit! They’ll become a fucking unsolved case!”

         “Oh my god, they’re not gonna get killed!” Robby could just imagine her brother pulling his hands through his hair as Y/N didn’t relent. “They’re two pensioners who just want to relax on a big boat and see some sights with a Margarita in their hand!”

         “And what if they are? Do you know where they keep the dead bodies on cruises? Next to those fucking Margarita mixes!”

         Harry’s sigh was royal. “And who exactly has such a vendetta against them?”

         “There’s a lot of bad people out there.” Y/N scoffed incredulously. “Do you need me to send you links to all the documentaries there are about people who’ve died under mysterious circumstances while on a cruise?”

         “No, what I think is, you need to lay off true-crime for a while. You’re starting to sound like some red-pill conspiracy theorist! Mom and dad just want to have a vacation. Besides, you’re never like this when they fly somewhere.”

         Y/N huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Okay. Fine. How about this – mom is completely time-blind and dad’s a topographical idiot. What if they forget their passports while on some excursion or get lost? I don’t want to see them on a single TikTok about pier runners and whatnot.”

         “They drove all through Spain, Italy and France last summer, and fun fact – didn’t manage to get lost,” Harry griped. “I think they will be just fine, especially because they will be with a group and a whole ass guide.”

         “That’s not good enough!”

         “Why can’t you just be happy for mom and dad? You know she’s wanted to go on a cruise for ages! She was so happy when she saw it was from both of us.”

         “Harry…” Y/N rubbed at her forehead, but before she managed to say anything, her brother said something that made Sara choke on her wine.

         “Why are you so fucking strung up? Is that new doctor boyfriend of yours not giving you any?”

         Quite honestly, if he’d been drinking anything himself, he would have also choked. He hadn’t known Y/N had talked to her family about him, nor had he realized she’d told them it was a serious relationship. It made warmth bloom in his chest. Or maybe that was just the blush turning him tomato red.

 “Actually, he’s -,” she twisted around and finally noticed he was sitting in her living room. “Right here,” Y/N finished in a clipped tone. “I’m gonna go. Next time I see you, Harry, you’re dead. Start writing a fucking will.”

         With that, she ended the call and gave Robby a sheepish smile. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

 “I gathered as much,” he chuckled, back popping as he stood up and went to Y/N. It was almost instinctive how his hands found their way to her waist, resting on the dips above her hips. “Seemed like you were in a pretty intense argument. Wanna talk about it?”

         “That depends.” Her hand trailed up his chest and settled on the nape of his neck, nails scratching against the skin there, a pleasant hum reverberating through his body. “Will you tell me that my brother is correct, and I’m obviously overreacting about this and that my parents will be totally fine? Or do you have common sense and wish to remain in a relationship with me?”

         He gave her a crooked smile. “Can’t it be both?”

         Y/N threw her head back and groaned, which gave Robby the opportunity to lean down and press a kiss against her pulse point, his own heart jumping in delight as he felt it speed up. He still couldn’t stop reveling in the fact, he had such an effect on this young, amazing woman.

         “I know,” she huffed. “I know they will be fine, but I can’t help but worry. I have this irrational fear of cruises. I can’t explain it.” Suddenly she snapped her head up so fast, her forehead almost collided with his teeth. “Oh God. Don’t tell me you’re gonna be like that someday. Because if one of your dreams is to go on a cruise, I think we need to end this right here and now.”

 “Sweetheart.” He cupped her face in his palms. “I don’t plan on going on a cruise anytime soon, nor once I’m geriatric. Unless you’re coming with me, I have no intentions of going on such trips.”

 Y/N sighed and nodded, seemingly accepting his response. “Okay good. Because I do not have the mental capacity it takes to solve crimes.”

         “They will be fine. It’s admirable you care for your parents so much, but they will be alright. And I do agree with your brother – you’ve got to stop watching true-crime for a bit.”

         “Well, there’s not much for me to do at home. I still have two weeks until Langdon gets me out of cast number two,” she grumbled and took hold of the crutches she’d placed against the kitchenette. “Work from home is great, until you’re done for the day, and you’re already home. I gotta kill the time somehow until Sara gets home or you come over.” Y/N snorted, raising a brow. “Kill time. Get it?”

         Robby just huffed a laugh as they made their way over to the couch, Sara having moved to a loveseat, so they could cuddle while he unwound from the day he’d had.

 “Leg’s doing alright?” He checked in, as Y/N put a pillow onto the coffee table and placed her foot there.

         “Just fine. Like it was yesterday. And the day before. And the day before, and ever since Langdon and Santos put it on.” She leaned over and pecked his lips. The kiss was short, but it was something he’d been dreaming of ever since he woke up in his own bed, in his silent and lonely apartment. “Give them some credit.”

         It had been about three weeks prior, that Y/N had come back to the ED for her scheduled appointment with Frank to remove the post-op plaster cast, get the stitches out, and get her leg into the one she’d be wearing for the rest of the recovery time.

 When she’d hobbled through the doors, Robby instantly rushed over to help her, smirks and wolf-whistles thrown their way. If he hadn’t been the attending, he was sure they would’ve gone on for the rest of the day. (The nurses did. He didn’t have the power to stop them).  

         “Back to work, people!” He called out. “Or I’m putting everyone on sanitary duty!”

   ��     That got the residents and med students scrambling to find a patient. Dana though, was not under his control like that.

         “He treating you good?” The blonde nudged her chin in Robby’s direction. “Because I can give you the combination of chemicals needed to remove bloodstains so that not even Luminol will find a trace.”

         Beside him, Y/N snorted at her words, taking the wristband Dana handed her. Without even thinking, Robby slipped it out of her fingers and wrapped it around her hand. An unmistakable heat rose on his face at the action. So simple, yet so telling of where his head was at, what his heart was thinking.

         “He’s fine.” Y/N glanced up at him. “Maybe a bit overbearing with the leg thing, but I just chuck it up to those wires they implant in all of your brains when you finish med school.”

         “If you say so.” Dana raised her brows and nodded. “Just know – the offer stands.”

         “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind,” Y/N chuckled and nodded at Robby that she was ready to move to the exam room where Langdon had already prepped the bed while Robby helped her get situated. Once she was as comfortable as she could be, he crossed his arms and asked, “You okay with a resident coming in and watching, sweetheart?”

         He could feel Frank’s eyes snap towards him, the younger man’s mouth curling up in a grin at the nickname that’d slipped past uninhibited, but he didn’t dare look at him. It was like dealing with a wasp – ignore it and hope it goes away. (It didn’t).

         “Sure,” Y/N shrugged. “As long as this isn’t some ploy from Saw where my leg will get spontaneously amputated or something.” She threw Langdon a gaze. “It’s not, is it? Because I’ve been having these really weird dreams where my leg just falls off while I’m doing something, and I don’t know if it’s my brain adjusting to the situation, or giving me a premonition I might be ignoring.”

         “I doubt Dr. Robby would let anyone touch you with an IV line without supervising.” Rubber gloves snapped against his wrists, but the smirk on his face grew twice as large, as he, no doubt to fuck with Robby, added a little, “Sweetheart,” at the end of it.

         “No, I would not.” He deadpanned, and if Frank was gonna be that way, so could he. “Santos!” Robby called out into the hallway, eyes locking on the intern who was milling around the HUB, who he knew Langdon didn’t particularly get along with. Seeing the smile drop from his cocky face was enough of a win. “Come and assist.”

         “But that’s just a -,”

         “A great learning experience?” Robby stopped whatever rebuttal was about to come out of Trinity’s mouth. “I concur. Now come and help Dr. Langdon.”

         She was smart enough not to roll her eyes at him, but her ire was palpable for being called in on such a minuscule job. She had a lot of potential, there was no denying that, but she was too overconfident for Robby’s liking, too alike the many cowboy-types he’d met and had to deal with, so he hoped by making her do the small jobs, she’d start to realize every single thing they did, was important.

         A proper IV line was important, listening to the patient as they explained their problems was important, being a steady and soothing presence was important. Even if you were only there to hold someone’s hand – it was sometimes the most important thing they could do.

         Langdon huffed as she entered the room, but remained professional as he introduced Trinity as their intern, the woman offering Y/N a small smile to which she responded in kind.

 Together they helped her move up her sweatpants to rest against her thigh while Langdon prepped the cast saw. “You alright with Dr. Santos performing the procedure?” he checked in with her.

         Robby noted how Y/N squirmed in the bed at the sight of the blade. She was a squeamish person, he knew that, but she was more squeamish because of her overactive imagination. “Can’t say I’m too thrilled about anyone coming near me with a saw, but you people gotta learn at some point, right?”

         “I mean, from my experience, everyone could take a page out of a mime’s book,” Trinity smirked as Y/N cocked her head. “They don’t scream.”

         Robby brushed a hand down his face as his (unofficial) girlfriend widened her eyes. “Santos, really? That’s -,”

         “Dr. Robby?” Dana interrupted him before he could tell that kind of bedside manner didn’t work on patients who already had dreams about spontaneous amputations. “Can you come here for a sec? We need a second opinion.”

         He didn’t want to. Despite the fact that he was the attending, and the attending on the shift no less, the thought of leaving Y/N’s side was abysmal. But he couldn’t neglect his duties and show such favoritism, just because his heart worried the whole time she wasn’t in his line of sight.

         “I’ll be back in a minute. Santos, listen to Langdon,” he told them and with that went over to Dana, Mel waiting by her side, a nervous bounce to her feet.

         It was an easy consult, more to reassure the mother of a sick teenager, the medication they would put him on, wouldn’t interfere with others he was taking and cause an allergic reaction. As he explained it to her, confirming Mel’s diagnosis and Dana’s recommendations, he could hear the saw turn on even a couple of rooms down.

         “Go,” Dana nudged him on the hip. “Or you’ll pop a vessel thinking they might be cutting something off that doesn’t need to be cut.”

         He brushed a hand over his face, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks as he excused himself and went back to the examination room. As he moved closer, voices could be heard in low tones.

         Robby shouldn’t be hovering like that. Y/N was in great hands. He knew nobody would deliberately hurt her, and Langdon, despite everything, was a good teacher. As he reentered the room, giving her an encouraging smile, he took in how Frank instructed Santos to move down the line, answering Y/N’s question as to why an oscillating saw was so much different than a rotating one and why they had to be used in a different manner – a lifting motion, rather than gliding one.

         Y/N let out a sigh of relief as the plaster cracked in two and was removed from her leg, no doubt the feeling of it euphoric. He knew how though it had been on her, but as Santos came to remove the lining, something shifted in her.

         The gaze she threw Langdon was alarmed. Almost panicked.

It made Robby straighten up.

“So.” Frank started, sitting down on a wheely chair and moving closer to the appendage while Santos got to work on unbinding the gauze that separated Y/N’s skin from the cast itself. “Wanna tell me what you’ve been up to?”

         “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she responded in an obviously fake-oblivious tone, not daring to make eye contact with either him or Robby.

         “Oh, I think you do.”

         “Nope,” she popped the p. “Absolutely do not.”

         Robby raised his brows at her, but she just kept looking at the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

         Frank let out a deep sigh. “Look, I can see that you have been doing something, and I need to know what. The talk about infection wasn’t just to scare you. You have stitches that are still healing. If something got inside the wounds there, it could end really bad. Spontaneous. Amputation. Bad.” He used the words she’d said before.

         After what felt like hours, but was probably no more than ten seconds, Y/N muttered, “Hypotheticals?”

         “If you must,” Frank’s words were weary, especially as he threw Robby a confused look over his shoulder.

         “And you?” she nudged her chin towards the attending. “Do you promise not to have some sort of a meltdown? Or worse – give me a lecture?”

         Robby’s mind was a frantic mess, trying to think what horrible thing could have happened, what emergency had he not seen, when finally, she relented.

         “Alright. Fine.” The words were basically bitten out. “I may or may not have, hypothetically of course, used a spatula to scratch. And maybe some… metal bookmarks I have. And uh, a wooden skewer, a clean one though. And umm… there might be some bobby pins and hairclips inside as well.” After a beat she added, “They kinda got stuck, and I couldn’t fish them out.”

         And, sure enough, when Santos finished removing the lining, three bobby pins were embedded against her skin – one on the top of her foot, one against her knee, and one behind in what Y/N called it, her knee-pit.

         Robby pinched the bridge of his nose, huffing a breath, as Frank did the same. “Is that all you used to scratch?”

         “Yes.” Y/N didn’t dare look at either of them.

         “Honest?”

         “Yes!” she asserted, before quietly adding, “Nothing else would fit.”

           Santos snorted from where she was cleaning down Y/N’s leg and applying an anti-scar ointment on the hurt skin, removing the bobby pins as she went along, thrashing them before the woman could ask for them back.

         Robby couldn’t really fault her for her actions. The itchiness and discomfort a plaster cast could create was a lot to deal with, especially with how she’d been cooped up inside for a whole week without much to do.

 “You could’ve caused a serious infection,” he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “You know better than to do that.”

         She threw her head back in a groan. “Please, Michael. I asked you not to lecture me. I tried, okay? I really did. But then I just kept thinking about how itchy it was, and you weren’t there to stop me, and it just all boiled over. By the time I had the bobby pins stuck, it was too late. So, actually, it’s all your fault.”

         He could only let out a slow, steady exhale and shake his head as he moved to stand by her side while Langdon and Santos gathered the materials for the new cast.

“So,” he broke the settled silence, hoping to stop the pout that’d bloomed on Y/N’s face. “The spatula. Was that the one you said melted on the stove?”

         “Yeah,” she grimaced as his resident and intern had to position her leg properly. “I wasn’t gonna like, wash and put it back with the utensils, you know? That’s disgusting.”

         “That’s what’s disgusting?” Robby looked down at her.

         “Uh huh, keep talking like that, and see where it gets you.” She pointed up at him. “As of right now, we’re still in the situationship phase.”

         “Situation-what?”

         “Oh, please don’t break his mind like that,” Langdon butted in, as he lifted her leg slightly and told Santos how to properly attached the 3D-printed cast. Y/N let out a hiss of pain and he watched how her grip tightened on her sweats.

         Robby didn’t even think twice before his hand slipped inside her palm, allowing her to squeeze it.

         “Alright, good girl.” Langdon nodded at the woman on the bed before looking up at Robby, the way his jaw clenched, and snickered. “Oh, sorry. Is that a thing between you two? I hope I’m not stepping on some toes here.”

         “You know what, Frank?” Robby squinted at his fourth-year resident. “I think I might have just found Gloria some spare funding.”

         “Point taken,” he said with a laugh before removing his gloves and addressing Y/N. “How’s the pain? This cast is much lighter, as you can probably already feel, and will be easier to navigate in terms of movement and hygiene gene.”

         “Manageable,” she nodded running a hand down the new material covering her leg. “Tylenol – two tablets every six hours, but no more than six a day.”

         “Perfect,” Frank nodded and took hold of her chart, writing down her words. “And the pain level now?”

         “Like a four? Maybe five?” Y/N hissed. “Can’t say this was too comfortable of a procedure.”

         Robby smoothed a finger down her cheek. “Do you feel like you need any medication right now?”

         “Maybe?” she huffed. “It’s just that with the moving,” she shuddered and swallowed hard. “I like, I could feel like plates and screws grating against the bones. Like I know they actually weren't, but it felt like they did, and just yeah… I think it’s apparent I don’t do well with these kinds of things. I honestly don’t understand what kind of steel stomachs you have. I would have thrown up all over the place if I had to see shit like this every day.”

         “Well, if Gloria thinks our patient satisfaction scores are low now, she should be glad you don’t work here.”

         Y/N huffed at Robby’s words. “This Gloria woman should come down and try being a doctor or a nurse herself. I know I’m not the easiest of patients as is,” she winced and threw him an apologetic glance. “And I think I might have traumatized that kid – Whitaker – the first time I was here, but from what you’ve told me about how people treat you… Sound like she’s about as close to real medicine, as Katy Perry is to being a real astronaut.”

         “I like you.” Santos pointed at her. “Let’s keep you around.”

         She just shrugged, giving Robby’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll stick around for however long this guy wants me to.”

 His heart thumped in his chest. He wanted to say, “And if I want to keep you around forever? Will you stay?” but all he did was squeeze her hand back.

         It wasn’t the time or the place for it. They were still, as Y/N had said, though he barely had any inclination as to what it meant, the situationship phase, but hopefully there would be more phases. And he wondered where it would lead him.

         He was no longer a single ship passing through the night. He had a new constellation in the sky he could follow, as he managed the residents and students, evaded Gloria and her bureaucratic bullshit; whenever his mind needed a respite, he turned to the new stars gleaming in the cosmos.

           As Dana had discharged Y/N, and Robby walked her to wait outside for the Uber, he allowed himself to skim his knuckles along hers. She responded by intertwining their pinkies.

         And now it had been a month of that.

         She was a month of evenings and nights spent together. A month of mornings waking up grumpy that turned to laughter and kisses. A month of good coffee, and bad movies, but he never took it for granted. He finally had a truly safe space to come to after days when he thought nothing good could exist in the world.

         The worst time of day though was the very early mornings, like right then, when he had to leave the space he’d come to cherish so much.

         When he was cocooned by her arms and blanket, his body soaking up the warmth Y/N offered, like leaves do the sunlight. Cracking a bleary eye open, he noted the slit where he’d forgotten to pull it tight.

         A heavy sigh left him as she groaned, pulling at his back so their chests could be pressed closer.

         “Don’t." He could feel her mouth move along the skin of his pecks. “It’s way too early to wake up and I’m way too comfy to let you.”

         “I need to get ready for work,” Robby brushed a hand along Y/N’s hair. “You can still catch some sleep.”

         She just huffed, shaking her head, grumbling softly, “I’m not gonna be able to fall back asleep, and you know it.”

         His heart stuttered in his chest, but before he could say anything, she’d already sat up, glaring down at him, as if he’d insulted her. “I’ll get the coffee ready for you.”

         “You don’t have to –,”

         “I’m already up.” Y/N let out a yawn almost unhinging her jaw like a snake. “Might as well save you some time.”

         She was just about to slide out of the bed when he rose too, taking hold of her wrist. “I meant what I said last night. Every word.”

         Ever so slowly, mind still addled by sleep, Y/N smiled, leaning back over and kissing him, not caring about either of their morning breaths. “So did I.”

         Maybe Robby didn’t actually hate mornings. Not when she poured him his coffee to-go, not when she stood before him, mussing his hair a little and pressing her lips against his.

         “I’ll be back by nine.” He wrapped his hands around her waist if only to prolong the time they had together. “And I’ll bring back some of those croissants from the patisserie down the block.”

         “The Crème Brûlée ones?”

         He hummed against her mouth in confirmation, before pulling away.

         “You know, every day you make it harder and harder for me to let you go.” Y/N scratched the nape of his neck.

         The smile he entered the ED with was idiotically big, so much so when he met up with Jack on the roof, the night shift attending couldn’t help but break his stoic demeanor.

         “Jesus, brother.” Abbot dragged a hand down his face, a corner of his mouth pulling up in one of those rare smiles. “The girl’s got you whipped like a prepubescent teen.”

         “I feel like a prepubescent teen with her around,” Robby laughed. “Keeps me on my toes, I’ll tell you that.”

         Abbot just nodded, looking over the Pittsburg skyline. “Happiness suits you. You deserve happy.”

         He could only smile, because the truth was, ever since the conversation they’d had before falling asleep wrapped up in one another, he was almost euphoric.

         They’d been curled on her bed, her legs over Robby’s lap as both of them were engrossed in some form of literature – her in a fantasy book, the kind when he’d asked what it was about, she’d twisted the pages away from him, hiding her face that was no doubt heating up, while he was reading the newest of the medical journals.

         It was almost on instinct how his hand rested against Y/N’s thigh, squeezing the flesh there, prodding against the skin where the cast met it when she huffed and squirmed away.

         “Don’t," she muttered. “Because unless that hand of yours might slip higher up, you are not allowed to touch like that.”

         His lips pulled, ego rising at her words. “I’m just checking if everything’s good here.”

         “Everything’s good there,” her eyes drifted to her leg. “Besides, that’s just mean, what with you imposing celibacy on me.”

         He threw his head back in a laugh, eyes closed tight at the motion, and he could feel her hand move to the back of his neck. He tilted his head to look at Y/N.

         “I like seeing you laugh,” she scratched at the short hairs there, her Y/E/C eyes, a color that had quickly become his most favorite in the whole world, so incredibly soft as she looked at him. “I like seeing you relaxed. I sometimes think you forget how to be human. How to be just Michael.”

         “Well, being with you reminds me of it.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. “It’s easy with you around… it’s easy to be just Michael.”

         “Yeah?” She tilted her head back to get a better look at him. “Is there a magic button I can push to turn off that doctor brain of yours, so you don’t worry about me that much?”

         He gave her a small grin. “It’s not the doctor part of the brain that worries about you. It’s the one that’s slowly falling in love.”

         Instantly, her whole body stiffened, mouth falling open.

         And so did his, because fuck, he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. At least not yet.

         Their eyes didn’t leave one another, but for a second there, Robby thought Y/N might not be breathing until air stuttered in her chest.

         “Umm,” he cleared his throat and took out the novel from her hands, tucking her bookmark in it before closing the pages. “Look… you don’t have to say it back. I know it might be too soon, but it’s something I’ve been feeling for a while. And… it’s not something I’m gonna take back.”

         “So…” Y/N swallowed hard. “So, these aren’t like empty words?”

         “No.” Robby gave what he hoped was a warm smile, her eyes lowering to watch how he fidgeted with the corner of a page of his journal. Gently, her fingers slipped between his, easing the rising anxiety. “I mean every single one of it.”

         Her little ‘okay’ was nothing more than a trembling exhale as he watched her mull over her thoughts. Just as he was about to say something to let her off the hook, to tell her anything that would interrupt the gathered silence, she spoke up.

         “I mean, if you were fucking with me right now, it’d be like the meanest thing in the world.” She sniffled and wiped at the corner of her eye.  “I uh… I can’t say I’m there yet, you know, but when I think about us… when I think about maybe a few years down the line it isn’t scary. Does that make sense?” She huffed, her fingers squeezing his tighter, as if afraid he’d disappear, and he squeezed right back, promising he wouldn’t. “Anytime I’ve been in a relationship, I’ve never really been able to see past the next few days. A few weeks maybe, but with you… I can see years. I can even see us with a cat.” Y/N let out a teary laugh, and Robby’s own bubbled up in his chest. “I mean if you don’t get tired of me before that.”

         “I’ll never get tired of you.”

         “You get what I mean.” She pulled up their interlinked hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I just… it’s a tangible future. A solid one.”

         “And solid’s good?”

         “Yeah,” Y/N wrapped her other arm around Robby’s back, holding onto his waist like he always did hers. Like she was the one terrified he might slip away. He’d never dream of leaving, not after knowing how it felt the first time. The two weeks of regret and guilt made him wonder if he had norovirus with the way his stomach constantly roiled. “Solid’s very good.”

         Afterwards, they simply basked in the silence, and not before long, they were both side by side, covered by Y/N’s down duvet. He could tell she was just on the cusp of sleep when his words brought her back. “Cat? Singular?”

         “Maybe two,” she shrugged in his hold, yawning. “Or more. It depends on how many tears it takes for you to adopt a whole shelter, and trust me – I took theatre in high school. I can cry on command.”

         Robby snorted shaking his head.

         “But honestly,” Y/N continued, “I’m down for almost like any kind of pet, as long as it’s not a gerbil or a Guinea pig.” He felt her frown against where her face was tucked in the crook of his neck. “Those things die traumatic and dramatic deaths, and, not to toot my own horn here, I think I’m traumatic and dramatic enough for the both of us.”

         They fell asleep debating whether or not a landlord would allow them to keep a python as a pet, and Robby debated all the ways he could covertly block any search results on her devices about snake breeders.

        It was the question he’d presented to Dana and Heather, by the time it was four in the evening and the ED had slowed down a bit, hoping to get some advice from the two women.

         “Wait, don’t tell me you’re afraid of some little snake!” Heather pointed at him over the counter where he sat at the HUB station. “Dr. Robby! I didn’t take you for such a wuss!”

         He removed his glasses rubbing at his eyes. “First of all, she said she wanted a cat at first. And now suddenly I have to contend with the fact I might have to live with a twelve-foot Amazonian predator?”

         “Actually, royal pythons grow between three to six feet, not twelve,” Dana said. The two threw her a gaze, and she shrugged. “Kid’s going through a weird reptile phase, so I’ve been getting all kinds of interesting facts about them.”

         “Do not let them interact.” Robby pointed at her. “They will only encourage one another, and then both of us will -,”

         But his words were cut short as the pagers came to life, pulling all of the Pitt into action as a fire was happening in a local area, three ambulances inbound, five minutes out. However, any sort of thoughts about preparation for the incoming got washed away when the words Green Garden Glen came up.

         Instantly, Robby’s blood ran cold, his head snapping towards Heather and Dana. “That’s Y/N’s apartment complex. That’s her address.”

         “Robby, don’t go there,” Dana said, taking him by the biceps. “We don’t know anything yet, okay? Call her first while we still have some time. We’ll handle the prep.”

         “Fuck!” he buried his hands in his air, eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, yeah. Okay.”

         It was a miracle his hands were steady as he fished the phone out of his pocket, years of conditioning taking over, even as his mind was like a ship being tossed around by a hurricane. But as the line kept beeping until an automated voice told him “The number you are trying to reach is unavailable,” he could feel the boat begin to sink.

         “Did you get through?” Heather asked, a frown on her face as Robby shook his head. “You know it doesn’t mean anything. The cell towers probably just can’t handle the influx right now.”

         But any words he might have, were stuck somewhere between his heart and his throat, as his brain mulled over what might’ve happened. Had it been her and Sara’s apartment? What was the damage? What was the cause? A candle? An oven? A stove? A forgotten hair-straightener?

         Robby would have kept spiraling like that, had it not been for Collins who brought back his attention to the present as the first gurney got wheeled in, an elderly man on it.

         He’d been around Y/N’s and Sara’s enough to recognize him as their first-floor neighbor, the one with a penchant for yelling at people who he believed were there to steal the roses he grew below his window.

         Mohan and Whitaker were examining him as they got instructed to wheel him to room eight by Princess.

         “Conscious and somewhat coherent,” Robby heard Whitaker describe while the neighbor kept rambling on and on about how the fire must’ve been set to kill his plants. “Surface level burns to the upper arm area and stridor in the lungs from smoke inhalation. Lidocaine was administered on the scene and continuous oxygen is being given.”

            “Recommendations?” Mohan asked.

         “Keep him on oxygen,” Mel piped up from where she’d joined the two. “Monitor the levels and if needed, prescribe antibiotics afterwards.”

         “And the burns?”

         “Given how it’s surface level, we’ll hook him up to an IV to replenish the fluids in his body, and wrap it up with some bacitracin on the affected area. A tetanus shot for precautionary measures,” Whitaker rattled off, eyes shooting between Mohan and Mel. “Is – was that right?”

         “You’re doing good, kid,” Mohan nodded and with that, they all disappeared into the assigned room.

         Robby’s eyes scanned the ED – Langdon was intubating a woman with the help of Mateo and Javadi, Dana had taken on a mother with a child, a bleeding burn wound to the kid’s leg, and Collins was coordinating with Princess and Perlah, all the while he stood there like a fucking idiot.

         “Get it fucking together,” he muttered to himself. It would do nobody any good if he didn’t do his job. He was the attending, for fuck’s sake. People relied on him. And yet he couldn’t move. It was only when a voice he dreamt about sounded in the room.

         Robby might’ve gotten whiplash from how fast he snapped his neck towards the entrance and saw Y/N get wheeled in on a gurney.

         “I’m fine,” her words were muffled by an oxygen mask as Dana rushed for her. “Seriously. Just got my leg bumped against the doorway, but I’m alright.”

         But the words had no meaning when Robby’s eyes zeroed in on her stomach.

         Red. Deep, dark red seeped through her (his) shirt, the one she walked around the apartment with, the one he’d remove from his body on her request and lay on a chair for her to wear the next day. It was now covered with too much of her blood.

         Why wasn’t Dana putting any pressure on it!?

         He was just about to rush to her when Heather stepped in the way. “Robby, no. You shouldn’t do this.”

         “The fuck I shouldn’t, I need to!” he exasperated, watching as McKay ran for her and together with Dana, wheeled Y/N out of his sight.

         “You, know this better than I do, we’re not supposed to treat people we know and care about.” She once again got in his way. “Don’t give Gloria a reason to get on your ass about preferential treatment.”

         “I don’t give a shit about Gloria or the administration!” He snapped. “Not when the woman I love is actively hurting!”

         “Yes, you do,” Heather asserted. “And it’s because you do, you will let McKay and Dana take charge. You know she’s in good hands with them. And you’re no good to Y/N without a head on your shoulders.”

         “Heather, please.” He dropped his head. “I can’t…”

         He didn’t need to finish the sentence for her to understand what he meant, because he’d already said the quiet part out loud.

         He loved her. Plain and simple. He wasn’t falling in love, not like he’d told Y/N the previous night. He already was in love. He just didn’t want to scare her away, by telling the true intensity of his feelings. And how could Heather or anyone ask him to step aside when his worst fears were coming true?

         After he’d heard about her nightmares about how she thought her leg might spontaneously fall off, certain images had appeared in Robby’s mind during the darker times of the day – Y/N in his ED, hooked up to a million wires and tubes, a ventilator keeping her breathing, while a neuro told him there was no brain activity.

         He’d woken up in a cold sweat that night, one of the few times they’d stayed separate. A full moon had blazed through his window as he’d made himself a cup of coffee and plopped down onto the couch.

         Robby had debated about calling or texting Y/N, just to make sure it had been only his mind working against him when she’d called him first.

         He picked up on the first ring. “Sweetheart?”

         He was breathless to hear her voice.

         “Sorry,” Y/N muttered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

         “You didn’t,” his reply came quick, soothing her worries. “I was already up.”

         “Why?” He could hear her shuffling and huffing as she no doubt pulled herself into a sitting position. “Was it a bad shift? Need to talk?”

         “No, no…” he shook his head, even though she couldn’t see. And it hadn’t been a bad shift. It’d been a usual one, though his mind did wander to Jack and how it was going now. The night brought out every type of insane. “ ‘S probably just the moon. I forgot to pull the curtains closed.”

         “Ahhh.” Robby could practically see the grin stretching on her face. “So now you agree with me? That the full moon does make people crazy.”

         He chuckled recalling the debate they’d had the previous day. “I never disagreed with you. Anyone that works in any type of social sphere, knows full moon equals trouble. I just said people are not like the ocean – we don’t get the water in our bodies pushed and pulled at like that.”

         “Whatever you say, gramps. I don’t need you to confirm I’m right and you’re wrong.”

         They’d spoken for well over an hour that night, falling asleep on the phone to one another’s breathing as their lullabies.

         What if he didn’t get that anymore? What if he no longer had the chance to fall asleep next to her? To watch her put her makeup on? To help her wash her hair or curb her shopping addiction?

         What if he no longer could have that solid future with a cat in it?

         Fucking hell, he’d take a billion pythons if he had to, just as long as Y/N was there to help him with them.

         He wanted to fight. He wanted to rage and shove Heather away, but he knew she was right, and as that settled in his mind, all the energy left him like a tidal wave.

         Robby barely felt her pull his face to the crook of her neck, his hands weaving around her shoulders searching for any kind of grounding.

         “I can’t lose her,” he muttered, tears he’d tried to suppress falling unabated onto her uniform, while Heather rubbed a hand up and down his back. “I don’t think I can get through that.”

         “Look.” She pulled his face out from where he’d hidden it and made him look her in the eyes. “Go and help Santos. I’ll go talk with McKay and Dana, and see what the status is.”

         And there was nothing more he could do than just nod.

         It took her over three agonizing minutes, three minutes of him attempting to do his job as an attending, three minutes of challenging the decisions of his students, and making them explain their conclusions before Collins returned.

         The rock sitting atop Robby’s chest finally rolled away when she said, “Y/N’s fine. McKay and Dana gave her a thorough examination, and apart from mild smoke inhalation, there are no cuts, no burns, no bruises, no nothing.”

         “Thank you.” He pulled her in, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you for being a sound voice when I couldn’t think straight.”

         “She’s really important to you, huh?” Collins pulled back, teasingly emphasizing the word ‘important’.

         “I yeah…” He dragged a hand down his face, the tips of his ears blushing, which meant he was probably as red as a fire truck already. “Yeah… She’s… something.”

         Heather patted him on the arm. “I’ll help them finish up here. You go and check on your… something.”

         He was never living down his words, but he didn’t care. By the time Heather had taken over, Robby was already halfway across the unit and entering the room where McKay and Y/N were conversing.

         They’d switched out the oxygen mask for a nose cannula, which meant she had to be getting better, but the second their eyes locked, Robby was by her side, her cheeks in his hands as his gaze roamed over her face and body.

         “Michael, look at me.” Y/N placed her palms over the top of his hands.

         “I am.”

         “No, you’re assessing me,” she countered him. “I said, I want you to look at me.”

         “I’m…”

         “Michael…” her tone was soothing. Warm. Comforting. And finally, he glanced at her. “I’m fine. And before you say or ask anything – it’s not blood.”

         Her hand went to the back of his neck, scratching at the skin there, trying to calm him. He should be doing it to her. Y/N had been the one who’d just gotten rescued from a burning building. But he couldn’t tell her no, as her fingers wove through his messy hair, calming his racing heart.

         “I was making dinner. Found that pasta recipe, the one I told you about when mom and I went to Valencia and got drunk off a pitcher of Aperol.”

         “So, this is…” His eyes went to the large red stain on the front of the shirt.

         “Tomato sauce. Poured the whole fucking jar onto myself when the fire brigade arrived. Sirens scared the shit out of me. Didn’t have time to change before I smelled the smoke and started on my way down.” Y/N smiled at him. Not a teasing quirk of the lips, but a reassuring one. She probably saw he wouldn’t be able to handle it in that moment. “It’s just tomato sauce.”

         And as what she was saying, registered in his brain, Robby could note the tangy and slightly sweet scent of the fruit. There was also some basil and garlic in there as well. And the color? Yeah, as he looked it over again, it wasn’t the dark and rich tone blood had, but a lighter, more orangey one.

         He looked up at her, her hand on his cheek. “I’m fine.”

         It was enough for him to pull Y/N into an embrace, knowing it wouldn’t hurt her.

         She was alright.

         She was living and breathing.

         Her heart was beating in a steady rhythm against his chest.

         She was safe and in his arms.

           As he catalogued these things, noting them down into the chart he had of Y/N in his head, Robby finally allowed himself to relax, as her hands moved up and down his back, dragging away the horrible images that’d invaded it.

           It was McKay clearing her throat, that suddenly reminded Robby where he was. “I uh, I’ve scheduled an x-ray for that leg of hers.”

         “Which I don’t need.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

         “Well, as your doctor, I say you do,” McKay countered.

         Robby intertwined their fingers. “Do it for me, please. All the jostling as you got down the stairs couldn’t have been good for the break.”

         “Fine,” she groaned. “But honestly, I wasn’t doing much of the climbing. Halfway down a fireman got hold of me and I got carried the rest of the way.”

         “Oh.”

         That was all he said, but it was definitely the wrong thing to say, because of the way Y/N’s gaze snapped to his, scanning his face for something. And when she found whatever, it was, she was looking for (a slight twitch to his left eye), her lips pulled back into a ferocious grin. “Jealous?”

         Robby sputtered before scoffing. “Of what? They were doing their job. If anything, I’m grateful for them.”

         And he was, of course. The thought of the firemen not getting to Y/N in time as she clambered down her fourth-floor apartment with a broken leg, was terrifying. But he couldn’t do anything to stop the blush from rising, nor could he hide the way his eyes shifted to McKay who was grinning just as much as his girlfriend.

         God, the Pitt would have a field day discussing him.

         “Don’t worry.” Y/N leaned up and pecked his cheek. “I kinda like it when you’re jealous, but as much as men in uniforms are hot, I prefer mine in hoodies.”

         A violent heat exploded through his body, especially as she looked him up and down like he was a walking-talking meal, and McKay didn’t do him any favors by letting out a low whistle and even pawing at him.

         That made Y/N throw her head back in a laugh, only to elicit a big coughing fit. Immediately, his palm was pressed against her back, helping her ride it out. Her teary eyes lifted up to meet his, mirth still glimmering as he wiped a tear from the corner of it.

         “Serves you right,” he mumbled, and chuckled, kissing the top of her head before helping her lay back.

         As McKay went on to check with radiology and get her a gown so she could get out of the dirty clothes, Robby handed Y/N a cup of water, before asking, “Where’s Sara? Is she alright?”

         “She’s fine,” she sighed, giving him back an empty cup. “She went out of town to visit her girlfriend’s parents at around two-ish? I don’t have my phone with me, though. Could you give me yours so I can give her a call?”

         “Of course.”

         “The apartment’s fine, by the way,” she said as she punched in Sara’s number. “The fire inspector said we’re okay to live there, as the only damage is the smell, but I’ll just air it out.”

         He despised the words coming out of her mouth. The thought of Y/N in an apartment that smelled of fire and smoke, surrounded by danger – Robby’s brain simply couldn’t comprehend it, so his mouth moved before he could tell it not to.

         “Move in with me.”

         The phone in her hand clattered to the ground, but neither cared. “What?”

         “Move in with me,” he said again, only a bit slower, to allow his head to catch up with what was happening. Not that it helped.

         “Michael…” Y/N let out a nervous laugh. “We’ve been dating for barely a month.”

         “I know, I just… I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Your place is ruined.”

         “My apartment’s fine.”

         “Okay, let me rephrase that – as if I’d let you move back somewhere fire detectors are more decorative than action figures.”

         She raised her brows at that. “How’d you know the fire detectors didn’t work?”

         “You said it yourself – the sirens scared you. Means the detectors didn’t do their job. The building’s definitely not up to code.”

         “Look…” Y/N took one of his hands in hers, squeezing them whether to comfort herself or him, Robby didn’t know, but he held onto her touch nonetheless. “The only reason you’re asking me right now is because you’re scared. So please don’t get me wrong, when I say ‘no’, it’s not because I don’t want to. It’s because I want you to ask me when the time is right. Not after some emergency, but when you feel like you’re truly ready for it. I told you before – there’s no rush.”

         His heart warmed at her consideration. They’d had a similar conversation before where Robby’d laid out his insecurities of him being older, of feeling like he had to play catch-up with the younger generation and the world that was constantly changing.

         She’d thrown him the most epic side-eye she could muster while half awake and looking at him over the bowl of her oatmeal. After a long moment of silence, she sighed, chewed what was in her mouth and put her spoon down. “Do you really think I don’t feel the same way? I mean, you’ve done so much already in life. You have so much experience, and you’ve contributed so much good to the world. I constantly feel like I have to play catch-up with you. With proving my worth, with proving how even though I’m twenty-six, I’m worthy of you.”

         “You are! Why would you ever think any different?” He was flabbergasted even at the insinuation she wasn’t.

         She raised her brow at him. “Then why would you think that way about yourself?”

         Y/N had him there. Michael chuckled and shook his head, raising his coffee in a toast. “Touché, sweetheart.”

          Now, she was looking at him from the hospital bed, eyes just as kind as they’d been that morning. “When the time comes, I will say yes. But I want this to be something not done under duress. If it makes you feel any better, I can stay at yours for the night, but I’d like to go home and grab a few things before that.”

         “I can lend you clothes if you need them,” he eagerly offered. Call him a simp, as the youngsters said, but he lived for seeing Y/N in his clothing. Once the cast was off her leg and she’d gone to at least a couple of rounds of physio, he’d get her to wear just one of his shirts with nothing underneath. And hopefully she’d allow him to peel that piece of clothing off too…

         “Oh, no, that’s not… that’s not it.”

         Robby’s brows rose at the sudden stuttering and shyness, her heart picking up its rhythm and announcing it to everyone through the monitor she was hooked on. Now it was his turn to grin. “So, what’s going on?”

         Y/N buried her face in her hands. “You’re gonna think I’m weird.”

          “Sweetheart,” he hung his head like it was a horrific prognosis he was pronouncing. “You already are.”

         “Micheal,” she dragged his name through a laugh. “I’m being serious.”

         “And so am I.”

         “Alright, fine… Just please don’t laugh at me.”

         “I promise.” Though it was tough as it was to keep the smile from his face.

         She took in a deep breath as if steeling herself before nodding. “I uh, I got a weighted blanket.”

         Robby’s brows rose. “Okay… I’m not sure why I would find it weird. I mean if you think I’m such a blanket hog, you could’ve just said so.”

         “No,” Y/N shook her head, chuckling. “It’s not because of that. Though I have read that statistically, relationships where partners sleep with separate blankets, are healthier, happier and last longer, but it’s not because of that.”

         “Then why?” He brushed a finger along her cheekbone. “You having trouble sleeping?”

         He couldn’t remember Y/N tossing or turning much, though quite often if he got to her place after a prolonged shift, she’d already be in bed by then. Quietly, he’d shower and pull on a clean pair of boxers, before sliding into bed next to her. Like a magnet, she’d turn towards his chest, her good leg slipping over his hip and head moving to lie next to him on the pillow.

         “You’re one creepy crawly,” Michael had once told her as they were settling in for the night, his arms in a tight hold around her waist. By the morning, it would be numb, but he’d take it if it meant she stayed close. “It’s like you’re trying to get inside my skin.”

         So, he thought of that moment, when Y/N asked, “Do you remember that week when Jack asked to switch around for the day shift? It was literally the worst sleep I’ve ever had. And not because of anxiety or anything else… because I just can’t fall asleep normally without you.” She lifted her eyes to his and gave a shy shrug. “I can’t do it without your weight pressed against mine, or without feeling the dip in the bed when you sleep next to me. You… you’ve burrowed inside me like that.”

         The night when she’d called out of the blue came back to him.

How quickly she’d sense him slipping into the sheets beside her.

         That same morning when she said she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep after he’d woken to start the day.

         So many little things fell into place.

         “So yeah.” Her eyes were filled with hope as she looked at him. “When you do ask me to move in, properly ask me, I will say yes. Please don’t doubt that.”

         Robby was sure his heart was about to burst from his chest.

         On the one hand, he hated knowing Y/N couldn’t fall asleep without him being there. She shouldn’t be losing valuable time her body could be using to heal and rest, just because of him and the job he had.

         On the other, knowing the impact he had on her life, knowing just how important he was to her…

         Because she was that important to him too. Whenever he was too tired after a shift and went back to his place so as to not disturb her, his mind always remained there. He fell asleep to the image of Y/N playing behind his eyelids and woke up with her voice whispering ‘good morning’ in his head.

         He craved her presence, craved her smile and looks. He wanted for her mornings and evenings, and happiness and pain she might have. And for once, he felt like someone craved him that way too.

         “So…” Robby knew he must be red all over from the way his body felt on fire. “Can I ask you next week then?”

         Y/N chuckled, pulling him by the sleeve of his hoodie, so he could lean over her. “You’re impossible. But you’re my impossible.”

         Their sighs of relief mixed together, as their lips met.

         He wouldn’t tell her he was in love with her. Not yet. There was nowhere to rush.

Robby was no longer Sisyphus, rolling a boulder up a hill, only to watch it crash back down.

He was Odysseus finally returning home to his Penelope.

Tags: @kathrinemelissa A/N: I don't feel like this is my best work. I've rewritten this like three different times, and I had a couple of ideas that at the time I felt I could combine into one, but I don't think this flows as good as I would like it to, but I just really wanted to write from Robby's perspective for this one :( Part 3 is already in the works, and I'm definitely feeling better about that one :)

If you wanna be tagged, let me know :)

[osokasstuff]

sometimes when i try to describe my relationships with being visibly autistic, i think "visibly developmentally disabled" explains it better. where i live, autism awareness is really low, so people who see me don't think about me in correct medical words and diagnoses, etc. they probably don't know what autism is, how it presents, maybe don't even know the word autism. but they do know clearly that something is wrong with me. that something is wrong with my mind (sorry for the wording. they put it like that and i don't know how to express the specifics of this treatment better).

some people seem to think that visible autism means "everyone know your exact diagnosis and understand what it means and think about you in proper medical terms," something like this. i think this idea leads people to say things like "autism is invisible disability" (presuming always and for everyone) or "well everyone's autism is visible if you know where to look."

visible disability is not about everyone knowing the specific diagnosis by look. visible disability is about people knowing that you are disabled by look.

another example: i'm a mobility aid user (cane/crutches/wheelchair depend on situation), and i'm visibly physically disabled because of it. people don't know my exact diagnosis by look, but they know i'm disabled in a physical way.

similar for visible autism: people may not know exact name of condition, but they know that i'm disabled in a developmental way. and act accordingly.

[vioqueenofmushrooms]

AWESOME SEX-ED

Ok it has just occurred to me that probably not everyone knows about my favorite sex-ed resource, Scarleteen! They have loads of great articles with information about sex, birth control, etc. They also have ways for you to ask questions that you want answered!

They have articles on everything from having sex as a disabled person, a fat person, and/or an intersex person to how to get FREE birth control as a minor(!!!) asexuality 101 and so much more!!

This is an awesome resource and my go-to when I want to know something about sex, I highly recommend it for anyone with questions/curiosities about sex, and while it's largely teen focused, there will be something here that's helpful for just about anyone!

When I started writing this post I was just going to include a couple articles... but I found so many I like so here are a bunch that may be helpful under the cut (Disclaimer: I have not read all of them because there are so many, nor am I in every group of people they're about, for example I'm not intersex or disabled, so I can't speak to the accuracy of all of them, but I've generally found Scarleteen to be pretty reliable.)

The articles I've included are mostly less typical stuff and things I think are super important but not talked about enough, if you're looking for more basic sex-ed just going to their website will get you started.

Tagging a couple accounts on here who do sex-ed stuff incase they want to reblog (No pressure though <3) @certifiedsexed @batmanisagatewaydrug

ALSO APPARENTLY SCARLETEEN IS ON TUMBLR??? @hellyeahscarleteen amazing.

Anatomy

Quickies: Sexual Anatomy | Scarleteen

With Pleasure: A View of Whole Sexual Anatomy for Every Body | Scarleteen

Intersex stuff

(Inter)sex and Relationships | Scarleteen (A series of articles by an intersex person)

Supporting Your Intersex Child Through Puberty | Scarleteen

Trans stuff

Supports for Trans Youth and Their Families (and a few words for everybody else) | Scarleteen

It's a Trap: How to Spot Anti-Trans Resources | Scarleteen

Self-Care Amidst a Deluge of Anti-Trans Legislation | Scarleteen

Transmasculine Flow: Let's Talk Periods | Scarleteen

Welcome to Trans Summer School! | Scarleteen (At the top there's a drop down that says "This piece is part of Trans Summer School" which shows you all of the articles)

The Lowdown on Low-Dose Testosterone | Scarleteen

Finding Our Own Voices: Renée Yoxon and Gender-Affirming Vocal Therapy | Scarleteen

Some Books and Balms for Nonbinary Folks | Scarleteen

Fatness

Fat Bodies: Learning to Care for Your Rolls and Folds | Scarleteen

The Confidence of Fat Sexuality: An interview with sex educator Elle Chase | Scarleteen

Disability stuff

Disabled Sex: Sex for Two (or More) | Scarleteen

Wheelchair, Bound? Kink and Disability | Scarleteen

Consent Is Sexy: Sexual Autonomy and Disability | Scarleteen

We Need to Talk About Sex and ADHD | Scarleteen

Body Talk: Listening To and Learning From Your Chronic Pain | Scarleteen

A Disabled Persons Guide to Talking with Your Partner(s) About Sex | Scarleteen

Sex and Parent Caregivers | Scarleteen

Disabled Sex Yes! | Scarleteen

I really want to have sex, but I don't know how, and I'm queer, chronically ill and isolated. | Scarleteen

Birth control

Getting Birth Control May Be Easier Than You Think! | Scarleteen (Aka how to get FREE BIRTH CONTROL as a MINOR. Not just for the USA but also Australia, Canada, India, New Zealand, South Africa, and the UK)

How to Manage Pain with IUD Insertions | Scarleteen (Not even just about pain, super in-depth helpful guide)

Other

F*c&!ng First Aid: A Quick Guide to Common Sex Injuries | Scarleteen

From OW! to WOW! Demystifying Painful Intercourse | Scarleteen

Sex after rape. Where do I begin? | Scarleteen

Becoming Out: a totally non-exhaustive, step by step guide to coming out | Scarleteen

Your PMDD Primer: A Necessary Guide to an Under Researched Disorder | Scarleteen

Crisis Pregnancy Centers: Harm, Not Help | Scarleteen

Just the Basics, Ace: An Asexuality Primer | Scarleteen

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

time

Summary: Not wanting to face Joel after you found out that you're pregnant, you leave the Boston QZ to live with Bill and Frank. Almost four years pass before you can't hide from him anymore, letting him finally know why you ran from him all these years back.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 6.7k

Rating: E

Warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy, secret pregnancy, secrets, fluff, trust issues, Joel being Joel, making up, kissing, age gap (not specified but it's around 15 years), smut (unprotected sex), mentions of alcohol, Joel really is bad at feelings, but he's trying, Girl Dad Joel Miller, happy end

A/N: if these two had a relationship status it would be "it's complicated" Another WiP done! So now I am allowed to think about Biker Raider Joel for a moment, right?

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Pedro Masterlist || Joel Masterlist || Main Masterlist

“You know you’ll have to face him at some point,” Frank had a fond smile on his lips as he sat in his wheelchair next to you. He was watching Bill who let himself chase across the yard of his picture perfect post apocalypse home. 

Nobody would expect that just down the street, outside of the fence the world as you knew it had ended. 

“I know,” you sighed. 

“He asks for you every time he’s here. If we had seen you, if we knew where you are. He’s gonna understand,” Frank said and you scoffed. 

“He’s not gonna care. He has Tess and… he’s not…” you shook your head, searching for the words, “he’s not the man I fell in love with.”

“We all can change,” Frank said, reaching over to squeeze your hand. 

“Bill is the best example for that. Could you have imagined him like that when you showed up here three years ago?”

You watched Bill play with your daughter, Ava, playing catch. 

“Joel is not like that. He was like that. Before. But that part of him died long ago.”

You sat in silence for a while, just watching Bill and Ava, trying to soak it all in. It would never be like that again and you were already dreading having to explain all of this to her. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whispered, fighting against the tears as you looked at Frank. He smiled softly at you before he came closer, kissing your forehead. 

Four years earlier

You knew he could tell when you were lying. He would know with one look at you that you were full of shit telling him that this was not working for you anymore. Whatever this between you was.

Joel and you had known each other since before the outbreak. You had started babysitting Sarah to earn some extra money while you were finishing you degree when she had just been nine years old and you had moved in next door.

You had been there on outbreak day. Next door, still living at home to take care of your sick father. You would never get the picture of his infected body lunging at you out of your head the night the world changed. 

You and Joel… You didn’t know what Joel and you were exactly. 

You loved Joel, you knew that. And you were pretty sure he loved you too. You just wanted… more. Most people did not allow themselves to love so openly anymore. And in Joel’s case? Losing Sarah had changed him. After fifteen years the man who had been Sarah’s father was gone, replaced by a man that still had his face, but was missing the warmth and comfort Joel Miller had once provided. 

You could see it in glimpses, whenever his hand would rest on your back when he passed by. When he fell asleep in your arms deep in the night. When he kissed your forehead before he headed out for work. 

Loving Joel Miller was easy. 

Being loved by him was close to impossible. 

You never really labelled your relationship, mostly because you did not think of it as important. You trusted him more than any other person on this planet. It’s why you ignored the way he had started looking at Tess. It’s why you did not question him when he stayed away at night. You ignored it all, opening your arms for him when he chose to come home to you, letting him in your bed just to feel close to him. To feel something. 

The jealousy was killing you slowly, making you reckless when you let him have his way with your body. 

But once you had missed your period the first month, and then the second, you knew that there was only one possible answer to your dilemma. You had never been late before. A ration card swapped for a twenty year old pregnancy test had your worst fears come true. 

You were pregnant with Joel Miller’s child. 

Fifteen years after you both buried his daughter. The daughter he never got over losing. 

You could already see his reaction. The eyes you loved so much empty before he would tell you to deal with it. 

You could not face his anger or disappointment, but mostly you could not face him not caring. So you packed your little belongings once he had left you in the morning, sneaking out of your bed without a word.

You did not leave a note, just fled the QZ, making your way over to Bill and Frank, hoping your friendship with Frank would make them take you in. 

Of course Bill hadn’t want to, but once he saw your stomach swell (and tasted the sweets you baked in his kitchen) he had put all his work into making the house next door into your home. 

“Mama, can we go get Strawbebbies?” you chuckled, holding her hand as you walked with her on your daily walk by the fence. 

“Strawberries, baby,” you tried to correct her. Ava pouted at you, her dark curls swinging in the wind, her brown eyes so much like her fathers. 

“That’s what I said!” she put her little hands on her hips and you smiled. 

She was definitely her father’s daughter.

“Okay, baby. Let’s get some Strawbebbies,” you picked her up, making her shriek with laughter. Once again you were glad you made the decision to come here. She could grow up like a child was supposed to. 

Even though now that Bill and Frank were gone it was getting kind of lonely. You had all enjoyed a last dinner together before Bill and Frank had tucked Ava in for one last time and read her a story. 

You had tried to keep the tears at bay as Bill had reminded you of the folder full of instructions of how to take care of things around here for you. 

After dinner you had walked them to the gate, opening the fence for them as they took their last walk. You had watched them until they had disappeared into the dark woods before you made your way back to their house. You had cleaned the dishes and tidied everything up, before with a heavy heart, you had turned off all the lights and closed the door behind you before you walked to your house, allowing yourself to cry yourself to sleep as you sat on the floor next to the bed of your daughter, watching her sleep. 

That night was almost three months ago. The days were getting shorter, the nights colder. You’d have enough firewood for this winter but come spring you would have to find a way to make more. 

You had just finished making breakfast for Ava when the motion detector alarmed you that someone was at the gate. You froze, telling Ava to eat her fruit salad before you made your way downstairs to check out what was happening. 

Your heart was pounding against your chest, once you noticed his face. 

Joel Miller. 

And a…. Teenage girl?

The gate swung open after he put in the code and you allowed yourself fifteen seconds to panic. You knew this day would come. The day after Bill and Frank had gone you had checked the basement, finding that Bill had put on 80’s music, the distress signal. 

Even though you had turned it off immediately deep down you knew he would show up at some point. 

You just did not think it would be that soon. 

You grabbed your gun, checking if it was loaded before you made your way back upstairs. You did not think you would need it, but it was better to be prepared. 

“Ava? Remember when Uncle Bill played hide and seek with you and showed you the best place to hide?” you asked, hiding the gun in the back of your jeans as you got to your kitchen. She nodded. 

“I want you to hide there until I come and get you,” you said. 

“Hide?” she asked. You nodded, kissing her cheek. 

“Take Sluggi with you,” you smiled. Sluggi was the stuffed plush slug Bill had gotten for her. She nodded and ran out of the kitchen and upstairs, You heard her door to her room close and took a deep breath, calming yourself. 

You knew this day would come. You knew one day you would have to face Joel Miller and you knew you would have to face his reaction. 

You never regretted your decision to leave. Life has definitely been better here. That did not mean you had just stopped loving him, no matter how much he had hurt you in the past. 

Stepping towards your front door you could see him walk towards Bill and Frank’s house. 

You closed your eyes, taking a calming breath before you opened the door and stepped out. 

His head snapped towards you once he heard the door opening, eyes widening for a split second before he pulled the girl that was with him behind his back. 

He was protecting her. 

“What are you doing here? Where are Bill and Frank?” he asked, his voice low. 

“They’re dead. Frank got worse and… he couldn’t…” you shook your head, lost of words. He just looked at you before he shook his head, trying to put in words what he wanted. 

“I just… We need some…” he took a deep breath, looking up at you, a million emotions playing over his face. 

“Are you hungry?” you asked the girl behind him. 

“Starving,” she replied and you smiled a little.

“There’s some fruit salad left on the kitchen counter if you want?” you asked. She stepped around Joel and he looked at her. 

“It’s safe. There’s… there’s no one there,” you lied. He gave her a nod before she walked past you into your home. 

It had been years since you’ve been alone with him. He did not really change. His hair maybe a little grayer, the lines around his mouth a little deeper, but he was still Joel Miller. 

“You left,” he said. 

“I did.”

“Why?”

You took a deep breath. You looked past him towards the house the girl had walked in, hoping your little girl continued to hide. Knowing her she had was working on her puzzle. She would be okay for a moment. 

You knew she was safe. You just needed a little moment alone. 

“You can have some fruit salad too. I am going to get some vegetables for dinner,“ you gave him a nod, before you turned around and walked towards your garden, ignoring him as he called after you. 

With a basket full of salad, cucumbers and some tomatoes you pushed the door of your house open. Joel was sitting on the stairs, across the door, already looking at you. 

The girl walked past the both of you towards the living room, an apple in her hand she was munching on. 

„This is so fucking weird,“ she shook her head and you snorted while Joel hissed at her. 

„What? It is weird,“ she said, her head turned towards him. 

You smiled a little as you looked at her, before you walked towards the kitchen, setting the basket down. You had to go up to check on Ava. 

And you had to talk to Joel.

You couldn’t hide her from him, even though you wanted to do nothing more than that. 

You took a deep breath when he walked into the kitchen. 

„Is it okay if Ellie takes a shower?“ He asked, knowing that there was warm water around town. 

„That’s her name. Ellie,“ he clarified.

„Oh. Of course, yeah,“ you nodded and Ellie walked in, snorting as she looked up at Joel. 

„You could use one too dude,“ she said and you had to fight hard against the grin as you watched the look on Joel’s face. 

You were about to offer her to show her to the bathroom when you heard a door upstairs click open, followed from little footsteps, your eyes widening. Joel frowned, his hand immediately searching for his gun, his arm putting Ellie behind himself. 

He raised his gun, taking a step forward as you ran around the counter, the knife you had put out to cut the salad now in your hand. 

„Gun down,“ you hissed and his head snapped to you, his eyes widening when he saw the knife in your hand. You stood in front of him. 

„I will not repeat myself, put the gun down, right now or I will put this knife in your thigh,“ you fingers flexed around the handle of the knife. The footsteps came closer as you kept eye contact with Joel until he slowly lowered his gun. You nodded at him once you saw him put the gun back to wherever it came from, then looked at Ellie who was looking at you with wide eyes, before you let the knife fall down to the floor just in time as Ava jumped the last step down, rounding the corner. 

„Potty?“ She whispered shyly, looking up at you with big eyes and you sighed, before you nodded, the people behind you forgotten as you picked your daughter up. You risked a glance at Joel as you turned towards the stairs, your daughter in your arms.

His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, before you practically ran up the stairs. 

„Who is the man mommy?“ Ava asked as she was finished, washing her hands like you taught her, making as many bubbles as possible as she rubbed her hands together. 

You sucked your bottom lip in as you watched her, your hand brushing over her soft hair. 

„That is an old Friend of mommy,“ you explained, and she nodded. 

„And the girl?“ She asked. 

„That is a friend of him, I think. I am not sure.“

She finished washing her hands and you handed her the towel, her little face full of concentration as she dried her hands, making you smile.

You got down on your knees in front of her, your hands on her shoulders. 

„Do you think she’s gonna play with me?“ She asked, hopeful.

„We can ask her,“ you said with a smile.

You weren’t prepared for the sight in your kitchen when you came downstairs. Joel was standing at the counter, the sleeves of his shirt rolled back as he cut the tomatoes with the knife you had threatened with him not only ten minutes ago. 

He didn’t look up as you entered the room, but Ellie did. You looked between them warily. 

„I’m Ava,“ your daughter chirped and you took a deep breath, Joel still not looking up. Ellie looked at him with a frown, before she sighed, rolling her eyes, and walked towards you.

„I’m Ellie,“ she said and smiled a little and bend down to her knees. Ava looked first at her, then at you. 

„Ellie, do you like sea turtles?“ You asked and the girl looked at you. 

„Uh…. I guess?“ She said and you smiled. 

„Because Ava loves them. Her whole room is full of them,“ you said and saw interest flicker in her eyes.

„Can I see?“ Ellie asked and you nodded. 

„You wanna show Ellie your sea turtles?“ You asked Ava and she nodded eagerly. 

„Awesome,“ Ellie said, taking Ava’s hand before you could offer to show them, the girls already walking upstairs towards Ava's room. 

Which left you alone in the kitchen with….

„How old is she?“ Joel asked, still not looking at you as you turned to face him. He grabbed the cucumber after he had used the knife to put the tomatoes in the bowl you had prepared for the salad, beginning to slice them. 

You took a deep breath. 

„She turned three last month,“ you said, watching him nod slowly, the knife hitting the cutting board the only noise in the room. 

„She has my eyes,“ he finally said and you sucked your bottom lip in, nervous. 

„Yeah she has,“ you agreed and he finally looked up at you, setting the knife down, his hands spread out on the counter, resting his whole weight on them. 

„Why didn’t you tell me?“ He asked, his voice quiet. 

„I didn’t know how. Joel…. You were barely acknowledging me outside of when you were inside of me. You spend all your time with Tess doing god knows what. How would you have reacted if I told you that I was pregnant? You never even acknowledged what we…“ you stoped yourself, shaking your head. 

„You should have told me. I could have…“ he stopped himself, searching for what to say and you looked at him, waiting. 

„I could have helped you. I would have….“ He shook his head, his hands shaking. 

„I’m gonna need a moment. Can you watch after Ellie?“ He asked and you nodded, confused and he nodded back before he walked past you and out of the house. 

You just didn’t think it would be almost two days before he got back. You were outside in Bill’s garden, letting the girls help you pick everything that was ready from the garden when you noticed him walk towards the house. 

You knew he was still inside the little locked up town Bill had made his safe haven. None of the alerts had went off, indicating he had left. And yeah you could have searched after him, but what good would it have done?

You’ve known him from almost twenty years, and you knew that he needed time to process certain things. 

He hadn’t talked to anyone in almost a year after the outbreak and what happened to Sarah. 

„Look what the cat dragged in,“ Ellie said as she spotted him and Ava perked up, her little head turning towards where Ellie was looking. 

Joel nodded at the girls before he looked at you. 

The sun was already setting and you had dinner prepared inside. 

„How about we have some dinner and then Ellie can read you some more of the story you started yesterday?“ You asked and both girl smiled at you. Ava ran past Joel who looked after her as she disappeared into the house, Ellie following her. 

„Next time you ditch me, at least tell me?“ She glared at him before she walked back into the house. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. 

„Can we talk?“ He asked. 

„After dinner?“ You said, getting up and grabbing the basked full of fresh vegetables. 

„Yeah. Yeah okay,“ he nodded and you walked towards the house, giving him a hesitant smile when he grabbed the basket from you and walked inside after you. 

It was two hours later that you found yourself on the left corner of your couch, your legs tucked under you, a glass of wine in your hand. 

Because this conversation needed some alcohol. 

And not only because of what you were about to talk about, but because of the man who was sitting on the other side of the couch, similar glass of wine in his hand. 

Because he looked so damn good.

He had showered while you put the girls to bed after dinner, the whole scene feeling so domestic. Like a dream you had many many times before when you were still dreaming. 

Dreaming of a normal future. 

Dreaming of a normal life. 

Dreaming about how it would feel like if Joel Miller loved you back. 

Because no matter how much he may have hurt you in the past, you just could not stop loving him. 

„I’m sorry,“ he whispered after a while and you turned your head to look at him, his eyes already on you. 

„I’m shit at talking about those things….“ He stopped.

„Those things meaning feelings?“ You helped and he groaned. 

„Yeah. Always sucked at it. Even before….“ 

He sighed. 

„Sarah would be so angry with me with how I treated you,“ he whispered and your eyes softened. You could count on one hand how often he had brought Sarah up ever since she died. 

And while you thought you could understand him in the past, you loved her like yours after all, now that you had Ava, you realised that loosing her would kill you. 

It would be something you could never come back from. 

But he did. 

„I never cheated on you. I know you thought I did, can’t blame your for it. Tess was just…. Fuck, how do I explain this?“ He sighed, his fingers rubbing over his chin. 

„I never deserved you. You’re too fucking good for me. For everyone really. Because even after the whole world went to shit, you still had some kindness left for everyone around you. I know how much you hated what we did in the beginning. And I hated myself for putting you through it. I hated myself for putting you through everything I did to you since the moment Sarah died…“ he said and you could see his eyes watering. 

„Can’t blame you for hating me and leaving. And not telling me about….“

„Joel….“ You said, setting your glass down and getting closer towards him, your hand reaching for his. Slowly he turned his hand so you could put yours in it, his fingers wrapping around your hand softly. 

„I’m not gonna lie and tell you that it’s okay. Cause I was hurting. You were hurting me. Every time you left in the morning without a word. Every time you passed out drunk and drugged after you came back. It was like living with a ghost and it was killing me. That was the reason I decided to leave when I found out. I could…. I couldn’t bring a child into this. And I knew I wanted her before I even met her. Even though it seems crazy to bring a child into this world. But… She was half you. And the thought that there was even the possibility that you didn’t wanted her….“ You took a deep breath. 

„Honestly? I can’t tell you how I would have reacted. I was… I was really fucked up in the weeks before you left. I was taking too many drugs. Drank too much. Got too fucking reckless. But that changed when you left,“ he said and squeezed your hand. 

„Not right away. It might have gotten worse first but… I got better. Not perfect, but better. And I… Fuck I even talked through some shit with someone. Made me realise I never even told you how much I love you,“ he said and you were pretty sure you stopped breathing as he looked at you, a small smile tilting his lips up. 

„Pretty sure I fell for you the first time you walked through my door wearing that pretty baby blue dress. Even though you were way too young for me. Still are. But…. I hope you knew, know. I really fucking love you,“ he said and you felt a tear running down your cheek. 

„Can you tell me about her? About Ava?“ He asked before you could form an answer to his confession. And so instead you told him. 

You told him about how you craved strawberries your whole pregnancy. How Bill traded one of his guns for the seeds from Tess.

You told him that she only slept through the night in the beginning, when Bill put her to sleep. 

You told her how much she reminded you of Sarah when she smiled at you. 

You told her how every time you looked at her you saw him. 

Hours went by where you two talked, you ending up leaning against Joel’s side, his arm around you. His fingers brushing over your arm, his other hand still holding yours. His lips brushing over your skin when he told you about how Ellie ended up at in his care. 

How he wanted to take her to Wyoming to search for his brother who might know how to find the fireflies. 

„Do you know where he is?“ You asked and he shrugged. 

„Not exactly. I know he messaged me from the Cody tower, so that’s where we’ll be going,“ he mumbled and you nodded. 

„We could take Bill’s truck,“ you said and he stilled. You looked up at him. 

„We?“ He asked and you chuckled, sitting yourself up so you were facing him, your hand now on his cheek. 

„You really think I’m gonna let you go now?“ You asked with a smile. 

And then you finally kissed him. 

It was decided that you would leave within the next 5 days, giving you enough time to make a list (You always made lists) of everything you had to pack. 

Which was a lot. Getting four people across the country on a trip that hopefully would be just like you remembered road trips to be, took a lot of supplies. 

And while you were preoccupied deciding which food was best to take, Joel had asked you if he could spend some time with Ava. He wanted to get to know her. And of course, you agreed. Watching him, Ellie and Ava walk towards the garage where they spend hours doing god knows what. 

It was almost dark outside when they walked back in, your heart melting as you watched Joel carry a very sleepy Ava inside who told you all about how seatbelts where very scary, something you would make sure to ask Joel about as you took her upstairs, putting her to bed. 

The days went by quickly like that.

Joel quickly became Ava’s favourite person which could have to do with the fact, that she was always allowed to sit on his shoulders. Ellie had been confused, yet delighted at the change in the grumpy man she had left the QZ with. 

He even got his Dad jokes out, making the teenager groan in mock annoyance throughout the day. Ellie also spend a lot of time with you, wanting to learn everything you offered to teach her. Starting from making protein bars for the trip down to how to properly braid her hair. 

Even though she preferred you doing it. 

You got the impression that she never really had anyone how just… listened to her or wanted to spend time with her. She told you she grew up in FEDRA School and that her mother had died while giving birth. 

She had no family and her best friend (though you got the impression Riley had been more than just a friend) had died not that long ago. 

That the only thing she had left in life was her purpose to save the world. Joel had told you that she was immune, Ellie showing you the healed scars to confirm it. 

„You know that that’s not the only thing you have left, right?“ You asked her, sitting on the porch next to her, enjoying one last sunset, watching Joel and Ava play soccer. Her little feet chasing after Joel with happy squeals. 

„What do you mean?“ Ellie asked and you looked at her with a smile. 

„You have us, Ellie. You think we just gonna let you go?“ You asked and she stubbornly shook her head. 

„I have to do this. It’s my purpose. I have to save the world,“ she said and looked away from you. 

„Are you saying this because you feel that way, or because someone told you so?“ You asked and she looked at you. 

„Because it should be your decision what to do and what not. And… think about it, even if they are somehow able to make a cure out of your blood, do you really think they will be able to make enough to make a vaccine for everyone? Who will decide who gets it? And if they end up deciding on giving it to everyone…. There are so many bad people out there. Do they deserve to be saved too?“ You asked and you could see her thinking about your words and you smiled softly at her. 

„Even if you don’t like hearing it, your a kid Ellie. You should grow up and live first before you make a decision like that. You don’t even know how they would get whatever they needed from your blood. If I remember correctly Cordyceps grow in the brain, what if they have to get into your brain to get out whatever they need?“ You said and her eyes widened. 

„But Marlene….“ She whispered and you reached over her, taking her hand. 

„I don’t know how well you know Marlene, but I’ve known her for more than ten years. I know how she manipulates people to get what she wants. You wouldn’t even notice it,“ you said and she sighed. 

„I’m gonna think about it,“ she said finally and you gave her a small smile. 

„That’s all I ask about. Now how about you get upstairs and take one last long hot shower before we are on the road for days?“ You asked and she nodded, standing up and turning away from you to walk inside the house before she turned back to you and hugged you quickly.

After saying good night to Ellie later you walked towards your daughters room, her little suitcase for her toys laying open next to her bed, waiting for Sluggi to be put into the next morning. She was already in bed, Joel sitting on the floor next to her, reading to her. 

You wished you could take a picture of this. Unfortunately the Polaroid camera had broken earlier this year. 

„Mommy!“ A tired Ava smiled as she saw you, her arms raised towards you. Joel looked up and smiled at you as you walked over, climbing into the bed behind your daughter, pulling her into your arms. 

„What story is Joel reading you?“ You asked. 

„The little mermaid,“ she said and you found Joel’s eyes. You had been thinking about it for the last days now. Telling her who Joel really is. He slipped into your life like the missing piece, the man you had fallen in love with all these years back seemingly falling right back into his role as being the best father there ever could be. 

So before you could talk yourself out of it you said

„Your sister loved that one too.“

Joel gulped, his eyes growing sad for a moment, before he looked at Ava. 

„I have a sister?“ She asked you, her eyes big.

„Mmmh…. Her name was Sarah. She watched the movie every single night before she went to bed,“ you explained and Ava pursed her lips in an ooooh motion. 

„There was a movie?“ She asked in awe.

„Oh yeah there was. And a cassette with the music. Can���t remember how often she made me listen to it“ Joel said and smiled softly. 

„Where is Sarah?“ Ava asked and your smile went sad. 

„She’s where Uncle Bill and Uncle Frank are. Watching over us,“ you explained and she hummed. 

„I wish I could hug her,“ she whispered and you nodded, tears in your eyes, squeezing her against your chest, your hand reaching out Joel’s hand finding yours as you kissed her forehead, looking at him who had tears in his eyes. 

„Me too baby. Me too,“ you whispered before taking a deep breath.

„You know Joel is her daddy,“ you finally said and she looked at you. 

„He is?“ She asked and you nodded. 

„I bet he is the best daddy,“ she sighed and you chuckled at Joel’s cheeks turning pink. 

„Yeah he is. What would you say if I tell you that Joel is your daddy too?“ You asked and her big eyes looked at you first and then her head turned towards Joel. 

„My daddy?“ She asked and both you and Joel nodded with a smile, her smile getting wider, before she jawned.

„I always wanted a daddy,“ she whispered before her eyes dropped close. 

You were walking down the stairs to Bill's basement after you showered, finding Joel checking if he could manage to take any more guns. The supplies had all been packed into the truck already, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave anything of value behind. 

He looked up when he heard your footsteps, giving you a small smile. 

Walking over to him you were surprised when he reached for you, pulling you into his lap, one of his arms looped around you, his other hand on your cheek, his fingers brushing over your skin. 

„I didn’t know you were gonna tell her,“ he whispered and you smiled. 

„She deserves to know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell her sooner. If I would have stayed you wouldn’t have missed so much…“ he stopped you by kissing you softly. 

„None of that. We both know I would have fucked this up. I would have said some really fucked up things and hurt you even more. So, there’s nothing you have to be sorry for, okay?“ He looked at you, his eyes pleading. 

You released a long breath, bringing both of your arms up to cross behind his neck. 

„Have I told you lately that I love you, Joel Miller?“ You whispered with a small smile that he mirrored. 

„Don’t think so. But I don’t blame you, I gotta say it a lot more often than you to make up for all the years I didn’t tell you. I do love hearing it though. Love you,“ he mumbled before he kissed you again. His lips moving on top of yours slowly, his hand tilting your head up a little so he could deepen the kiss. 

With a little sigh you parted your lips for him, his tongue dipping into your mouth, a deep moan coming from him, his arm pulling you closer against him. 

There had been lots of making out in the last days, stolen kisses when the girls weren’t in the room, secret touches under the table while you had dinner. 

But you haven’t slept together. 

And you were ready. 

„Joel,“ you mumbled, parting from his lips. He hummed, his lips running down your jaw. 

„We aren’t gonna be alone for a while,“ you whimpered, your head tilting up to give his wandering lips some more space. 

„What are you proposing?“ He asked, playfully nibbling on your neck. 

„I’m proposing that you fuck me, Miller. Right here,“ you gasped when you felt his other hand slip between your legs. 

„Right here?“ He asked, his fingers over the seam of your slick panties. 

„Mmmmhh….“ You closed your eyes, biting your lip when he pushed the fabric to the side, his fingers dipping between you slick folds, lazily teasing you. 

„All that for me?“ He asked and you opened your eyes, crashing your lips against his. 

„It’s been almost four years Joel. Please don’t tease me,“ you whined and his eyes softened before he picked you up and set you down on the table behind him. Within the next minutes you were both naked, your hands in his hair as you kissed him as he stood between your parted legs, the heavy weight of his cock resting against your stomach. 

„Gonna need to prepare you,“ he hummed, his hands on your ass. You shook your head. 

„Please just fuck me. You know I can take it,“ you whined, one of your hands wrapping around his cock, making him hiss. He groaned, sucking your bottom lip between his before he slapped your hand away, his dark eyes fixed on yours as he held his hand out to you. Waiting. 

Feeling your whole body heat up you spit in his hand and the left corner of his mouth twitched. 

„My good girl,“ he praised you and you couldn’t stop whimpering. 

He brought his hand down to wrap it around his cock, coating it in your saliva, before he lined himself up. You had dripped on the table you were sitting on, more than ready to take him. 

„I love you,“ he whispered and you looked at him with a soft smile, your lips parting when he slowly pushed his cock into you. Filling you inch by inch, both of you starring into each others eyes. 

„Missed this,“ you moaned. 

„Missed you,“ you crossed your legs behind him, giving him a little push, his cock finally filing you up completely. 

„Fucking Perfect,“ he groaned kissing you again before he began to move, pumping into you slowly. 

You let yourself fall back down against the table, stretching your arms over your head, your back arching, your tits moving every time Joel fucked into you. 

He licked his fingers, bringing it down between your legs, his thrusts getting harder as he rubbed your clit, your pussy clenching around him. 

„Yes… Baby… Just like that….“ You moaned, your hands coming down to play with your tits. 

„You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?“ He asked, moving faster, his skin slapping against yours every time he moved.

Nodding, you moaned, your eyes rolling back as you came, your whole body shaking as he fucked you through it. 

„Shit….“ He groaned, both of his hands now coming to rest on either side of you as he leaned down, fucking into you deeply, chasing his own orgasm. 

„Want you to cum again,“ he grunted, kissing you, drilling his cock into you, the whole table moving over the floor. 

„Want you to cum inside me. Let me feel you,“ you whimpered, your hands in his hair, trying to meet his thrusts. 

„Fuck that is…. Not a good idea….“ He laughed and you grinned. 

„I don’t care. Wanna feel you. Cum for me, Joel. Cum inside me,“ you whispered and he groaned, fucking into you a half dozen times more before you felt him twitch inside of you, filling you, making you cum for a second time. 

Both out of breath you looked at each other before Joel leant down and kissed you. 

„Sleep in bed with me?“ You hummed against his lips. 

„As long as you let me,“ he answered against your lips before you both sneaked upstairs. 

Against all odds after six days of a rather boring trip across the country you reached the radio tower in Cody. And two days later a group patrol of people on horses found you, asking you all kinds of questions before a man pulled the bandana that had been covering his face down, revealing Tommy Miller in the flesh. 

By now you were living in Jackson for almost a year. 

Ellie had decided to stay and live her life, the constant threat of someone looking for her still on the horizon, but it was decided that the town was not in immediate danger. Patrols kept an eye out for fireflies, but they haven’t spotted anyone. 

You were living a happy life all things considered. 

Ava went to pre school, Ellie went to normal school. They really became sisters in the last year, spending a lot of time together. 

Even though Ellie started to spend more and more time with a girl called Dina you suspected was more than just a friend. 

Joel was always working on improving the house. 

He had changed the most, back to the man he had been before the outbreak. Yes, he still was the protector when he needed to be, but most of the time he was just Joel. Your husband. 

„Yellow?“ He asked, holding the can of paint up.

You walked over to him with a smile, nodding.

„It’s a happy colour. I like happy colours,“ you shrugged and he chuckled, setting the can down on the floor before he put his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

One of his hands came to rest on your growing belly, the baby inside kicking up a storm as if it could sense their dads hand, making you both smile. 

„Still think it’s gonna be a girl?“ You asked and he nodded, before he kissed you softly. 

„Think I’m meant to be surrounded by beautiful girls,“ he hummed before he kissed you again. 

[dropoutconfessions]

dropout absolutely can and should do better with diversity and representation. that’s not the controversial part here, because i think everyone basically agrees on that

the issue here is people claiming that dropout is awful and horrible and transmisogynistic and ableist and whatever other extreme inflammatory buzzword (last month it was all about the antisemitism)

because that’s way out of proportion. dropout is doing better than like. 90% of current commercial content when it comes to diversity. i think people need to remind themselves that progress is not instantaneous. things have become a lot more diverse and representative in media over the last 20 years, but there are plenty of us that remember it wasn’t long ago that that wasn’t the case. and additionally, dropout has expanded their catalogue significantly recently, but it’s still at-heart a very niche, very nerdy platform. the representation you want might not want to be on d20 or game changer or wherever. improv is a hard thing to be good at and frankly looking at the talent on dropout would be intimidating to look to join, especially if a minority demographic isn’t already highly represented, and knowing this started as a group of friends. it’s not an excuse, but i can see how that might affect things

you can say you want more from dropout, but the bitching about just how shitty they are is ragebait, and i don’t think it’s at all helpful to post or respond to it

I agree with some of the sentiment of this post, but I would like to add a few things

Everyone is transmisogynistic. Everyone is racist. Everyone is ableist. Everyone is antisemetic. Etc. This includes the people within these oppressed groups too. Because these are systemic and widespread social issues that seep into our belief systems in subtle ways because bigotry is normalized. Dropout is likely not intentionally avoiding hiring transfems, but that doesn't mean that subtle, internalized transmisogyny isn't the reason people have noticed a lack of transfems.

These words aren't inflammatory or extreme words. These are simple actions, none of them are necessarily malicious. Like I said, it's incredibly easy to be accidentally bigoted.

Yes progress is gradual, but all of these instances are people asking for gradual progress. The increase in transfem and in general, trans representation, has stagnated throughout dropout's existence, with the exception of The Seven creating a sharp spike in the amount of representation / episode. Disabled representation haven't even sparked an argument, it's just been people wishing there were more visibly disabled people involved, like wheelchair users.

While improv comedy is a hard thing to get into, dropout is not just an improv comedy show anymore. And honestly, several of the shows have had people who aren't improv people for ages now. Um, Actually, Dirty Laundry, Dimension 20 are all examples of this. Nerd shit and ttrpgs are places where minority groups thrive already, so it's not out of the question for them to find representation. And basically anyone can be on Dirty Laundry.

and honestly? what makes you think it's okay to call women asking for representation "bitching about it"?

[howlett-dekarios]

𝚂𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑

▏Trilogy!Logan x Reader

▏Summary: You were the perfect student of Scott's. But after you've came back form university, you've changed and Logan can't stand it.

▏Warnings: dom!Logan | virgin!reader | NSFW | MDNI | big breast | | breast play | slight overstimulation | kinda mean!Logan | unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!) | spanking | Logan calling reader names | male masturbation |

▏Word count: 3,5k

First days in school were a very weird experience for him. Being around so many kids and a few teens who were genuinely interested in studying here. The place itself being some sort of safe space for them. Truly unusual to watch something from so close, or even being considered a part of. Xavier wasn’t pushing him into anything though, rather giving him time to adjust to the new reality. Logan didn’t really feel like matching the whole vibe. Being a responsible adult, an example for youngsters.

He was called by Charles into his office. What he didn’t expect though was to be bumped into on his way in.

“Of course Professor, it will be done as soon as possible-“ A young woman's voice was stopped when her head hit the hard chest of Howlett. Her gaze quickly rose and was met with his unreadable eyes. “I-I’m so sorry Mister..”

“I’m Logan, kid.” His voice stern. “You should be more careful.”

“Yes, of course, I’m so sorry.” She stuttered. This guy wasn’t giving the nicest aura. Big, grumpy and intimidating with the cigar between his lips. “It’s my fault, I-“

“I’m just kidding, kid.” He gave her a teasing smirk, definitely enjoying how she had been panicking just seconds ago. Logan was a bastard who was well aware of his posture. “Nothing happened.”

“Sure..” Her red cheeks made him smirk even more. Are all students like this girl? “Goodbye, Professor, have a nice evening. Same for you Mr. Logan.” And with that she left as fast as possible, embarrassed by the whole situation she put herself into.

“Take care, bub.” His attention focused on Charles again. “Are all of them so scared?” The question was rather sarcastic one.

“I prefer the term of well behaved and polite.” The man in the wheelchair smiled and got back to sorting documents that were stuffed on his desk. “Besides Y/n is one of the best students here. Very smart and well raised young woman.”

“Oh is she?”

“I’m quite positive. She was asking me for the recommendation letter for the university she wants to get into.”

“They can do that?” Logan was honestly surprised. He couldn’t really imagine graduating from such school and being accepted in a ‘normal’ world later.

“It’s not so common unfortunately. Most students prefer staying here and becoming teachers like Jean or Scott. That or move out to the countries where the knowledge about mutant kind is less advanced.”

“They’re running away from reality-“

“Seems familiar?” Charles gave him that knowing look which other mutant already hated from the first day here. Older professor was actually one of the few people who had the ability not to take offense and even mouth back. Old ‘I know everything’ bastard.  “But I didn’t call you here to talk about Y/n performance in studies. You made your decision, Logan?”

Howlett wasn’t dumb, well knowing about what exactly this question was. Him staying in the mansion. If he was ready to fit into school reality. To deal with kids, or worse, with Scott. But what choice did he really have in that matter? It was that or coming back to the shadows. To live from paycheck to paycheck, getting any non-attachment job, vanishing as soon as someone realized who he truly was. And here? As much as Logan hated to admit it, it started to feel like home. Being accepted, doing whatever he wanted without needing to think about being discovered. A stabilization he never thought he really needed.

There was one more thing. He was in debt to Charles. For all the help the old man provided him with getting back the memories. For making it possible to puzzle all his life together. Such sort of debt wasn’t something a man can forget just like that. Or at least Logan couldn’t.

“I’m gonna stick around. No teaching though.” Not yet at least. He wasn’t ready for such responsibility.

“A babysitter then?” Xavier laughed, which only made the other man roll his eyes.

“I can train older ones.” Make himself useful by the skills he has. Not much but could be good to start.

“Very well, so be it Logan.”

And that’s how he officially became part of the life of the mansion.

For the next month Logan hasn’t gotten a lot of occasions to cross his way with Y/n. She was too focused on her studies and getting ready for the university life she planned for herself, and he definitely wasn’t the type to beg her to move her ass and join the training with the rest of teens. He really couldn’t point out why every other member of the team was so fascinated about that girl. Sure, she was nice, kind and smart, but that wasn’t making her anyone special in his mind.

That’s how on her last day in the mansion Logan was indifferent towards her. When Scott and Storm were all teary, hugging her and wishing luck, he stayed aside, watching it from the far corner of the room.

“Mr.Logan-“ Her face made it clear she didn’t know what to say after that.

“Just Logan, bub. You’re a grown up so act as one.” Maybe a bit too rude, judging by Jean killing gaze he felt on himself. “Just do your best there and don’t let anyone boss you around. If all I heard about you from Charles is true, then I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

“Thank you.. Logan.”

“Y/n we need to go, you’ll be late for the tour around campus.” Scott called her after packing everything in the truck.

“I’m coming.” She smiled at Logan one last time. “Sorry for not attending your classes.”

“Yeah, whatever, it was your choice.” He shrugged, patting her arm. “Just don’t bump into anything on your first day there.”

“I won’t-“

“Y/n!”

“Coming!”

And just like that she was gone, starting a new chapter.

It was quite funny how history repeated itself.

After five years and graduating from the university she was once again at home. Talking with Professor about wanting to come back. To help both the school, since she had a degree in psychology so she could help students to understand their emotions, but also to fulfill her responsibilities as a mutant. Charles has always been saying how her mutation was so unique and how much it could serve for goodness.

In those few years she understood where she should be. Who she should be helping. As a successful psychologist it would be so easy to just open her own practice and make good money, but deep down Y/n got the feeling that it wasn’t what would make her happy. Being surrounded by normal people, hearing all the hideous things they’ve been saying about her kind.. it just made it more clear. It wasn’t her world. She wasn’t welcomed in it. She never should’ve left the mansion.

She was so stuck in her own mind that she didn’t notice the body in front of her. Not until her nose sunk deep into someone’s white wifebeater.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-“

“Old habits die hard, huh?” Deep voice made her realize who exactly she bumped into. Again.

At this point Y/n was sure that the universe is just playing its most hilarious pranks on her.

At first Logan didn’t recognize her.

Those five years changed her entirely. From a nineteen girl who he had only seen with her nose in the books, to a fully grown woman.

Fuck, a very attractive one too.

The upper messy bun, the white shirt and dark shorts which left very little to the imagination.. If the concept of glow up was real, then it sure as hell could be used in her case. He really needed to double check if it was actually her.

“Logan.”

“Y/n.”

They’ve been looking at each other and if not for Charles, it quickly could’ve been awkward.

“Good to see you here Logan, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Man in a wheelchair smiled and pointed at his student. “Y/n decided to join the team. But she will need a little bit of training before she can go for the missions. I believe your teaching skills could be useful for us.”

“And how do I know she won’t bail it all like the last time?”

“I’ve changed.”

“Yeah, I can see it.” Quite literally. One was sure, if Scott could see his thoughts right now, he would probably beat his ass because none of them were appropriate. “Fuck, alright.”

“Excellent. Welcome back Y/n.”

Next weeks were true torture. Watching her in clothes that wrapped her body tightly. All sweaty and with a face that showed true motivation to win against him. One thing he learned about Y/n was how university indeed changed her. From a polite and shy student, to a bratty and confident woman. Testing his patience limits whenever she opened her mouth.

Every night he was coming back to his room, getting in the shower and getting off to the thoughts of her in his bed. Laid down naked, spread all just for his pleasure. Her mouth finally shut up by his dick inside, abusing her throat. Logan wasn’t certain why it all made him so on edge, but something in her just made it impossible for him to focus. The thoughts of her irresistible.

He couldn’t act on it though. She was too young for him. Being the precious girl of Scott and Charles, the brightest and so perfect student of theirs.

But one evening made him lose it all.

“Always having such a fucking smart mouth bub, huh?” He hissed through his teeth, while having a strong grip around her throat. “Never taking my advices-“

“Maybe I would if you wouldn’t have your eyes on my tits all the time.” She mouthed back, using her power to form a dagger and sticking it into his lower stomach. “You’re always so grumpy, why is that? Haven’t put your dick into anything in a long time?” The bluntness of her words took him completely off guard since Logan was sure about hiding it rather well. 

Those few seconds gave her enough time to pin him to the floor, her legs on his chest and another dagger white energy dagger near his throat.

“I won.” Y/n gasped, clearly out of breath. After weeks of sparrings and constant failures she’s finally made it for the first time.

Her being on top of him was enough for Logan tho. In a second he rolled over, strong arms pinning her to the training matt.

“Get the fuck out.” He groaned, looking into her eyes. He wasn’t playing anymore. “We are done.”

There was no way of him working with her ever again. 

For hours Y/n was debating on how to approach Logan. What she should say, how to apologize to him. She took it too far, using some cheap shitty distraction to win. In reality she wasn’t even sure if Howlett had any interest in her, and judging by his reaction it was clear that he took the offense. The accusation of being unprofessional like this.. it was a really low blow.

That’s why she was currently standing in front of his room, knocking and waiting for an opportunity to say sorry.

What she didn’t expect was to be met with him half naked, wearing some sweats and having wet hair.

“I-I’m.. listen Logan, I’m sorry about what I’ve said-“

He didn’t give her a chance. Instead his big hands grabbed her waist, dragged into his room and pinned to the other side of the closed door.

“Oh, really, princess?” He fumed, his eyes focused on her face like he was really looking for any sign of doubt, not really in a mood to be played over again. 

“L-Logan I’m really sorry-“

“You should be, bub. Using my weakness, like it wasn’t you who have been wearing these tight pants and bras of yours.”

“W-what-“

“Everyone thinks you’re so smart but I see that you don’t have basic instincts, huh? Teasing me every damn time, like you don’t want me to fuck you dumb, and then having the audacity to just spit it in my face.”

“I swear I didn’t-“

“Is that so? Then why can I smell you know, Y/n?”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck his heightened senses. The second he grabbed her she started getting wet, squeezing her legs just to provide any sort of pressure. 

“Logan-“

“I asked you a question, bub.” The threatening tone near her ear made a shiver run down her spine. “But let me ask again. Do you like it Y/n?”

Truth be told, the time she spent with Logan made her realize how handsome the guy was. Strong and cut muscles, the height, and now the chest hair and happy trail going down under the waistband.

“My eyes are here, princess.” He chuckled seeing her struggle.

“Y-yes.” If before she was out of breath, then now it was literally no existent.

“Good.”

And just like his eyes landed on hers. Swallowing her flavor. Devouring any place he could. Quickly the kisses lower to her neck, leaving the trails of his spit and teeth on it. Bruising it like it was his job to do so. 

“Logan!” Her moans were a pure symphony for his ears.

“Legs.” The simple order made her obey, wrapping her legs around his waist like it has always been their place. “Good girl.”

It didn’t take him long to make her a moaning mess. Dropping her on the bed and undressing, leaving her fully naked just as in his scenarios.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about it for too damn long. Always wearing those tops that are fucking too little and cute for your slutty tits. I imagine guys on campus enjoyed them.” Her nipples were being abused just like the neck before. “But they’re mine now, you get it, bub?”

“Yes, yes, please.” She cried, trying to cover her eyes, both from pleasure and embarrassment.

“Ah, ah, ah, none of this. You can’t act all shy on me now when you’ve been such a bratty bitch all the time, baby.” Logan grabbed her hand and pinned them together above her head, not making it possible for her to do anything else than just take what he was giving. After he was satisfied with his work on the upper parts of her body, he took his pants off and smirked at her reaction. Logan was quite aware of his size being above any normal human, so it wasn’t any surprise. “Never had anything like that, huh? None of your little college boys gave you something like that? But don’t worry, princess, I’ll make sure it fits.”

But before he could enter her, she stopped him, putting her hand on his chest.

“Logan, wait!” Seeing his confused face, she whispered the thing he couldn’t believe was real. “I-I’ve never done it..”

“Come again?” But her reaction to his question ensured him that what he just heard was true. “You are a virgin?”

She nodded, not being able to look into his eyes.  

“Y/n look at me.” She shook her head, afraid of him being mad at her. “I said look at me, bub.” Logan gently grabbed her chin and forced her to face him. “It’s okay. It’s fine, you don’t need to be ashamed. Fuck, you’ve been so confident in your words back there that I thought.. but it doesn’t matter. It’s all good, I’ll be gentle. Just tell me if anything will be wrong, okay?” When she nodded one again, he smirked. “Words Y/n. You have such a smart mouth then use it now.”

“Okay.”

That’s when his member slowly entered her. Inch by inch, Logan was checking on her if everything was fine. The little pain expressions were a natural reaction considering his size, so he was soothing her legs, calming her down by praising how well she was doing.

“So fucking good for me, baby, so tight and warm.”

At first Logan wanted to give her some time to adjust but instead the girl told him to move.

“I want it, Logan.”

And who was he to deny her?

His pace was too slow for his liking, but her comfort was in first place.

“Faster, please.” She moaned, not being able to stand his gentle trust. “I’m not made of glass.”

Oh, she really shouldn’t have said that.

“As you wish.”

Logan grabbed her legs and turned her around, making her stand on all four. Pounding into her relentlessly, like his life depended on it. One hand grabbed both of her, holding them as a lever, making her arch in a way that will never leave his mind. Other went straight to her hanging breasts, squeezing them and overstimulating to her limits.

“Lo! Please, fuck, I’m close.. Lo..”

“I should’ve known that all it takes to finally shut you up is just to fuck you dumb. Such a good pussy for me, keeping herself pure just so I can use it however I want, isn’t it right princess?”

“Yhym, yeah, please, Lo!” Her mind clouded by the overwhelming pleasure.

“Already dumbfounded, how sweet. What would Scott think about you, baby, huh? You think he would be proud of his perfect student to be pistoned like a cheap whore? Just a hole for my pleasure of all the people?”

His fingers traveled from her tits to her clit, making small fast circles which made her legs tremble uncontrollably.

“Logan! I think I’ll-“

“I know, princess, I can feel you squeezing my cock. Give it to me Y/n, milk me so I can know how good your cunt is.” He kept his brutal pace, pounding into her from behind. Feeling how her legs were slowly giving up, Logan freed her hand and slapped her ass, leaving a red mark on it. “Cum on me, baby.”

“Lo! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It didn’t take much for him to follow her, reaching his orgasm, painting her walls white with his own cum. The trip to the drugstore for the morning after pill will be the first thing needed in the morning, but for now his mind was focused on something else.

Y/n didn’t take Logan as a type of the good aftercare guy, rather betting on the ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ man. But to her surprise after they both calmed down from their high, he grabbed her waist and cuddled her into his chest.

“You alright?”

“Yes.. shit, it was..”

“I feel the same, princess. You did a very good job.” He smirked, giving her tender pecks full of affection. “I’ll clean you in a second, baby. Also I don’t think you’ll be able to have any sparring tomorrow.”

The teasing comment made her blush, but she knew he was right. It’ll be a miracle if she will be able to walk properly. But it took her a second to realize the true meaning behind his words.

“So… we are cool?”                                                                                                         

It honestly made him smile. But it wasn’t his usual forced grimace. This time that smile was kind, soft and genuine which made her heart melt a little.

“Yes, Y/n. We are cool. Besides, you were right. I was checking your tits all the time.”

They both laughed at that and after a few more seconds in a tight warm embrace, Y/n fell asleep.

Finally after five years of being here, Logan found a good reason why it was worth staying.

BONUS

Their relationship was kept a secret. To Logan it was ridiculous, but Y/n didn’t want Scott to find out, knowing that her former teacher would be furious. He would definitely judge the choices she’s made, especially by choosing Logan of all the guys. So that’s why they’ve been hiding. Stealing private moments, hiding in empty classrooms for quick make out sessions. Sneaking out of each other's rooms in the middle of the night.

But one day, she fucked up.

Charles called the whole for an emergency meeting early in the morning. She was still tired from the entire night intimate session with Logan, that her brain didn’t have any moment to wake up and start working properly. Instead of grabbing her own hoodie, she put on Logan’s which was too big for her.

The whole meeting went smoothly, though she couldn’t understand why Scott was giving her angry glances, at the same time Logan smirking like crazy.

“Nice hoodie, sweetheart.” He finally whispered into her ear, when the gathering was over. The realization hit her instantly like a bullet. 

“I can explain-“ Y/n started.

“Fucking asshole.” Scott only bumped his arm into Logan’s chest on his way out, not wanting to hear it all.

“Well that could be worse.” Another smirk appeared on Howlett’s face.

The next thing she felt was his lips on hers. There was no way he wouldn't use the first occasion to show off his girlfriend. 

▏A/n: Was the first concept writing some sort of teacher's pet fic? Yeah, but then it slightly evolved. Hope you enjoyed it tho!

[cripplecharacters]

Navigation: Helpful Posts

[large text: Navigation: Helpful Posts]

Complication of posts from CrippleCharacters, as well as other blogs providing advice on writing disabled characters!

This post covers the general topics - for posts on specific disabilities, please see part two.

Last update: 12/01/2025

Character Making Basics and Ideas

[large text: Character Making Basics and Ideas]

- How to Start Doing Research When Writing a Disabled Character - Disabilities that are Common but Have no Representation - Facial Differences that Would Be Cool to Actually See Represented - How to Do Historical Research - Our "Disabled Character Ideas" Tag - Our "Character Inspo" Tag - Am I a Bad Person for Not Knowing Something?

How to Describe XYZ?

[large text: How to Describe XYZ?]

- Blindness Tropes: the "Blank Look" - Describing Characters with Facial Differences as Pretty - Difference between Fetishization and Being Seen as Beautiful - First Description: when to mention the Facial Difference - How Often Should You Mention Mobility Aids? - Dialogue and Speech Disorders - Sign Language in Dialogue - Words for Residual Limbs (stumps) - Describing a Limp - Words to Use instead of "Walk" for Wheelchair Users - How to not Describe Facial Differences as "Scary"

How to Draw XYZ?

[large text: How to Draw XYZ?]

- Tips for Drawing Characters with Facial Differences - Annoying Tropes in Art Re:Facial Differences - Drawing Blind Characters - Drawing Amputees - How to Draw (and not draw) Characters with Vitiligo - Drawing Cane Users - Decorating Wheelchairs - Drawing Characters with Down Syndrome - Drawing Characters with Cleft Lip - Drawing Burn Survivors

General

[large text: General]

- What's Off-Limits for Non-disabled Writers? - Writing a Newly Disabled Character - Writing a Visibly Different Character - The Accident - Including Disabled Communities - Disabled Characters in Historical Fiction - Coming up with Fictional Disabilities - Tokenism Discussion - Disability and Superpowers - Curing and "Fixing" Disabled Characters - Is It Realistic to Have Multiple Disabled Characters? - "Jaws Effect": how media affect the real world - Worldbuilding with Accessibility in Mind - How to Let Readers Figure Out the Character's Disability - Does the Disability Need to Have a "Purpose"? - Including Ableism in the Story - Casual Representation vs Fetishization (with albinism as an example) - Including Body Horror without doing an Ableism - Including a Storyline of a Character being Traumatized from Causing Someone Else's Disability

General Tropes

[large text: General Tropes]

- "Super-Crip": Magic and Disability - Abled Characters Pretending to be Disabled - I Did a Trope but It's Too Late - What You Should Do - made with the mask trope in mind, but could be applied more widely - Magical Cure - made with blindness in mind - Including Healing Magic without Disability Erasure - Why is the Cure Trope Bad? - How to Do a Scary Disability Reveal without being Ableist? - Disabled Character Recovering, but without Disability Erasure - Killing off a Disabled Character without Doing an Ableism - Writing a Disabled Villain without Doing an Ableism - What is Fetishization of Disability, and what Isn't - Not All Sign Language Users are Mute and American

Mobility Aids

[large text: Mobility Aids]

- General Overview - Overview, but with More Options - not writing advice, educational - More Detailed Look at Crutches and Canes - Magic Mobility Aids - Tips on Writing Wheelchair Users - Writing a New Cane User - "But Mobility Aids Wouldn't Exist in my Fantasy World" - Basic Information on Service Animals - Should My Non-Modern Wheelchair User use XYZ instead of a Wheelchair? - Accessible Wizarding for Wheelchair Users - Fidgeting with Wheelchairs - Pet Peeves for Cane User Characters - Wheelchair user trying to navigate Inaccessibility - Walkers and Rollators

Other Disabilities

[large text: Other Disabilities]

- Writing Characters with Tourette's Syndrome - Introduction to Writing Characters with Speech Disorders - Writing Little People (characters with dwarfism) - Dwarfism and Fantasy Stories - Stereotypes around Characters with Dwarfism - Writing and Drawing Burn Survivors: basics and resources - Caring for a Burn Scar: the everyday things - On Chemical Burns - Writing Characters with ASPD - Writing a Character with Russel-Silver Syndrome - Complex Dissociative Disorders Terminology: A Basic Primer - What to Consider when Writing about Pollution-induced Disability - Portraying Psychosis + Review of Jinx from Arcane - Difference between "Nonverbal" and "Nonspeaking" - Stereotypes and Tropes around Characters with Gigantism - Writing Guide for Characters with Schizophrenia - Everything Except Hallucinations

Making Your Content Accessible to Disabled Readers

[large text: Making Your Content Accessible to Disabled Readers]

- Why add alt text? - Image Descriptions Tutorial - Writing Image Descriptions for People Who Can't Write Them - "But how do blind people even use alt text" - How to Tag Your Posts (Tumblr) - ScreenReaders and Color Text (Tumblr) - FanFiction Accessibility

Recommended Blogs/Sources

[large text: Recommended Blogs/Sources]

- @blindbeta - @cy-cyborg - @a-little-revolution - @mimzy-writing-online - @writingdrugs - @vitiligo-is-not-a-trend - Fantastic website for any historical needs

[cy-cyborg]

The Untrustworthy Fake: Disability Tropes

[ID: A screenshot of Willy Wonka from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as he limps towards a crowd using a cane. In the picture, he has a brown top hat in his hand, and he's wearing a suit with a purple jacket, multicoloured bow tie and cream coloured pants. Beside him is text that reads: "Disability Tropes, The untrustworthy Fake" /End ID]

Tell me if this sounds familiar: A new character is introduced into a story with some kind of disability - usually visible but not always. Maybe they're a seemingly harmless person in a wheelchair, maybe they're a one-legged beggar on the street, or maybe they're an elderly person with a cane and a slow, heavy limp. But at some point, it's revealed it's all a ruse! The old man with a cane "falls" forward and does a flawless summersault before energetically springing back up to his feet, the wheelchair user gets to their feet as soon as they think the other character's backs are turned, the one legged beggar's crutch is knocked out of his hand, only to have his other leg pop out of his loose-fitting tunic to catch him.

All of these are real examples. Maya and The Three introduces one of it's main protagonists, Ricco, by having him pretend to be missing a leg in order to con people (something that works on the protagonist, at least at first), Buffy The Vampire Slayer had the character Spike, pretend to be in a wheelchair, until the other characters leave and he gets up, revealing it's all a ruse and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory introduces Wonka by having him slowly limp out into the courtyard of the factory, only for his cane to get stuck, causing him to "fall" and jump back up, revealing that he's actually perfectly fine. Virtually every single major crime show in the past few decades has used this trope too, from CSI to The Mentalist, Castle, Law and Order and Monk all having at least one episode featuring it in some way. Even the kids media I grew up with isn't free from it; The Suite Life of Zack & Cody sees Zach faking being dyslexic after meeting someone who actually has the condition in the episode Smarter and Smarter and the SpongeBob SquarePants episode Krabs vs Plankton has Plankton fake needing a wheelchair (among other injuries) after falling in the Krusty Krab as a ploy to sue Mr Krabs and trick the court into giving him the Kraby Patty Formula.

No matter the genre or target audience though, one thing is consistent: this trope is used as a way to show someone is dishonest and not to be trusted. When the trope is used later in the story, it's often meant to be a big reveal, to shock the audience and make them mad that they've been duped, to show the characters and us what this person (usually a villain) is willing to stoop to. Revealing the ruse early on though is very often used to establish how sleazy or even how dangerous a character is and to tell the audience that they shouldn't trust them from the get go. Gene Wilde (The actor who first played Willy Wonka) even said in several interviews that this was his intent for Wonka's character. He even went so far as to tell the director of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that he wouldn't do the film without that scene because of how strongly he felt this trope was needed to lay the foundations for Wonka's questionable intentions and motivations. His exact words are: "...but I wouldn't have done the film if they didn't let me come out walking as a cripple and then getting my cane stuck into a cobble stone, doing a forward somersault and then bouncing up... the director said, well what do you want to do that for? and I said because from that point on, no one will know whether I'm telling the truth or lying."

There's... a lot of problems with this trope, but that quote encapsulates one of the biggest ones. whether intentionally or not, this trope ends up framing a lot of actual disabled people as deceitful, dishonest liars. Now I can already hear you all typing, What?! Cy that's ridiculous! No one is saying real disabled people are untrustworthy or lying about their disabilities, just people who are faking!

but the thing is, the things often used in this trope as "evidence" of someone faking a disability are things real disabled people do. A person standing up from their wheelchair or having scuff-marks on their shoes, like in the episode Miss Red  from The Mentalist isn't a sign they're faking, a lot of wheelchair users can stand and even walk! They're called ambulatory wheelchair users, and they might use a wheelchair because they can't walk far, they might not feel safe walking on all terrains, they might have unstable joints that makes standing for too long risky, they might have a heart condition like POTS that has a bigger impact when they stand up or any number of other reasons. Also even non-ambulatory wheelchair users will still have scuff marks from things like transferring and bumping into things (rather hilariously, even TV Tropes calls this episode out as being "BS" in it's listing for this trope, which it refers to as Obfuscating Disability). A blind beggar flinching or getting scared when you pull a gun on them isn't a sign they're faking their blindness like it is in Red Dead Redemption 2. Plenty of blind people can still see a little bit, it might only be a general sense of light and darkness, it might be exceptionally blurry or just the fuzzy outlines of shapes, or they might only be able to see something directly in front of them, all of which might still be enough to cue the person into what's happening in a situation like that. Even if it's not, the sound of you pulling your gun out or other people nearby freaking out and making noise probably would tip them off. A person needing a cane or similar mobility aid sometimes, but being able to go without briefly or do even "big movements" like Wonka's rolling somersault, doesn't mean they don't need it at all. Just like with wheelchairs, there's a lot of disabilities that require canes and similar aids some days, and not others. Some disabilities even allow people those big, often straining movements on occasion, or allow them to move without the aid for short periods of time, but not for long. Some people's disability's might even require a mobility aid like a cane as a backup, just in case something goes wrong, but that still means you need to carry it around with you, and unless it can fold down, it's easier to just use it.

Disability is a spectrum, and a lot of disabilities vary in severity and what is required of the people who have them day to day. This trope, however, helps to perpetuate the idea that someone who does any of these things (and many others) is faking, which can actively make the lives of disabled people harder and can even put them in very real danger, physically, mentally and even financially.

Just ask any ambulatory wheelchair user about how many times they've been yelled at for using accommodations they need, like disabled toilets or parking spaces. How many times they've been accused of faking and even filmed without their consent because they stood up in public, even if it was to do something like get their wheelchair unstuck or as simple as them standing to briefly reach something on a high shelf. I've caught multiple people filming me before, so have my friends and family, and it's honestly scary not knowing where those images have ended up. This doesn't just impact the person either, a friend of mine was filmed while standing up to get his daughter (who was about 4 at the time) out of the car. He was lucky to have stumbled across the video a few days later on facebook and contacted the group admins where it was posted to get it taken down, but had he not stumbled across it by chance, pictures with his home address and his car's number plate, his child's face and his face all visible would have just been floating around, all because a woman saw him stand briefly to pick up his daughter.

Many people don't stop at just saying a nasty comment or taking a photo though, a lot of people, when they suspect people are faking, will get violent. I have many friends who have been pushed, slapped in the face, spat on or had their mobility devices kicked out from under them. I've even been in a few situations myself where, had I not had people with me, I think the situation would have turned violent.

There's even been cases where those photos and videos I've mentioned before have been used against real disabled people and they've been reported to their country's welfare system as committing disability fraud. While cases like this are usually resolved *relatively* quickly, in many parts of the world, their payment will be halted while the investigation is in process, meaning they may be without any income at all because of someone else's ignorance. If you're already struggling to make ends meet (which, if you're only living off one of those payments, you probably will be), a few weeks without pay can mean the difference between having a home and being on the streets.

Not to mention that when there's so many stories about people faking a disability in the media, especially when the character is doing it to get some kind of "advantage", such as getting accommodations or some kind of disability benefit, it perpetuates the idea that people are rorting the systems put in place to help disabled people. If this idea becomes prevalent enough, the people in charge start making it harder for the people who need them to access those systems, which more often than not results in disabled people not even being able to access the very systems that are supposed to be helping them. A very, very common example of this is in education where accommodations for things like learning disabilities require you to jump through a ridiculous number of hoops, especially at higher levels, only to have some teachers and professors refuse to adhere to the adaptations anyway because they're convinced the student (and usually disabled students as a whole) is faking.

Yes, the "untrustworthy faker" is a fictional trope, and yes, it does occasionally happen in real life, but not as often as media (including things like news outlets) would have you believe. However, when the media we consume is priming people to look for signs that a disabled person is faking, it has a real impact on real disabled people's lives. "Fake-claiming" is a massive problem for people in pretty much all parts of the disabled community, and it ranges from being just annoying (e.g. such as people spamming and fake-claiming blind people online with "if you were really blind, how do you see the screen" comments) to the more serious cases I mentioned above. It's for this reason a lot of folks in the disabled community ask that people leave this trope out of their works.

[starcurtain]

A Very Rambling Rant about Alhaitham and Aranara

Sigh. Everyone on twitter is all excited over this idea that Alhaitham can see aranara, and I don't mean to be downer but like... I kind of hate this. Not the idea of Alhaitham seeing aranara, which is very cute, very nice, yes, but more the way this kind of thing unfolds.

It's a classic example of unconfirmed material, extraneous to the actual game, getting put out on social media like it's canon: Someone tweets "ALHAITHAM CAN SEE ARANARA!!" and suddenly it's running rampant in the fandom and people are completely convinced it's canonically true, without the actual game or any confirmed story-relevant materials genuinely supporting the idea. This is exactly how misinformation gets spread. (I'm looking at you, "Jade enslaved Aventurine" Star Rail fandom brainrot.)

And it's this "bandwagon canon" that leads to constant issues in the fandom when people point out that even some widely accepted stuff is actually fanon. People are literally vicious over defending things that don't actually have any evidence in the game itself.

I really wish this fandom was better at distinguishing "This thing is factually true" and "This is a really cool idea and there might be a few hints for it! I'm going to make this my headcanon!" Watching stuff in fandom go un-fact-checked genuinely makes me terrified for people's ability to fact check real world issues sometimes!

Not to mention the way this conversation is happening is just really unpleasant too?

I saw multiple tweets with thousands of likes going around saying things like "Of course Alhaitham can still see the aranara; he has child-like wonder while Kaveh is traumatized and had to grow up too fast, so it makes sense he can't see them."

Which like... This is so gross to me? Are these people just missing the massive unfortunate implications of their own words--the idea that traumatized people can't experience wonder for the world anymore? That they're somehow broken and can't experience any child-like joy??? It's a deeply unpleasant take to me.

And not only that, it directly contradicts actual canon, because Yoimiya's entire second story quest was about a girl going through a traumatic illness that confined her to a wheelchair and led to her experiencing guilt and depression--and about helping her to see that everything that made life worth living was still there for her, and that she had never lost her wonder or will to live in the first place.

And the whole thing just smacks of a fundamental misunderstanding of why adults can't see the aranara in the first place. It's not because there's some sort of magical "You must be 18 or younger to see aranara" rule. It's because the aranara themselves choose not to be seen by adults. They protect themselves by making themselves invisible. They're not invisible by nature! Everyone can see them--when the aranara want to be seen. Conversely, this means that adults with "childlike wonder" are not just automatically seeing aranara left and right. No matter how happy and childish at heart an adult is, they will only see an aranara if the aranara personally trust them and want to be seen.

The aranara trust children because children are generally good-hearted (and also probably easy to escape from), so there is usually no need to keep themselves invisible to children, but even among children, they are invisible until they choose to be seen. (I think everyone forgot the quest where you find the child who was kidnapped by the Fatui in the forest, saved by an aranara who chose to reveal itself to her, but then she refuses to go back to the village, so you leave her at the aranara nursery--only the aranara there at the nursery choose not to reveal themselves to her because they don't know her yet.) Even with children, aranara don't just go running up on them--they're incredibly cautious creatures who only show themselves after they're sure they'll be safe. They distrust adults because adults deliberately use "growing up" as an excuse to abandon simplicity, kindness, and gentleness in order to embrace concepts that include getting ahead of others and seeking profit--two things which could be particularly dangerous for a vulnerable forest fairy population.

There's also an extremely complicated intersection between the aranara and memory, as they represent and upon "death" return to being the forest's living memory itself. Avin, the girl in Yoimiya's story quest, is a child--but still loses the ability to visit her aranara companion because her illness keeps her away from the forest so long that she simply forgets her aranara buddy ever existed. Even aranara who would love to continue playing with their human companions find themselves forgotten over and over again, because they simply don't linger in human memory well. It's a giant metaphor for how fleeting and temporary human existence is in comparison to the natural world! It's a metaphorrrrrrr.

(There's also the fact that aranara freely move between reality and dreaming--something which Sumeru's adult population only recently regained the ability to even do.)

And like... does no one remember that Yoimiya could only see the aranara because Traveler was there to introduce her to them? She doesn't just automatically see them even though she has all the childish wonder possible in her heart.

I even saw tweets saying that anyone who thinks Alhaitham doesn't have child-like wonder in his heart and wouldn't automatically be able to see aranara fundamentally misunderstands his character and I just... First, see the point above--this is already a misunderstanding of how aranara work.

Second, am I just crazy, or is there absolutely nothing about having wonder and curiosity and passion for the world around you that is confined to children? Are we really going with "Having an imagination is for kids" as our takeaway from all this?

Alhaitham absolutely is passionate! He loves Sumeru as much as Nahida does! The mysteries of the world fascinate him, and he wants to be doing nothing more than ravenously learning and taking in new information at every opportunity!

But finding wonder and joy in life's mysteries is absolutely not restricted to children!

There's nothing inherently "childish" about loving fiction and the fantastical world of books, having a vivid imagination, being passionate about learning new things, and just plain out enjoying life. I'm sorry everyone else has apparently become such miserable adults that the only way they can believe Alhaitham finds joy in the world is by assuming he must have maintained a "child-like" inner nature. Please go read more books and touch more grass and maybe you too will experience adult wonder and joy???

Alhaitham's vivid curiosity about the world isn't remotely "child-like." It's based on the same sort of philosophical obsessions that drove Plato and Aristotle to redefine human thinking. To Alhaitham, Sumeru is likely much more vivid and beautiful and full of intrigue because he is now an adult who has the ability to freely think, formulate deeper questions, and the means to pursue research into his personal passions. His teaser trailer is literally about how he took the job of the Scribe because the Scribe records truth--not child-like faith in the magic of the world, but a constant unfilled yearning to get closer and closer to what is real.

If Alhaitham can see aranara, it's because he's earned the trust of the aranara by his deeds, not because he's secretly still an innocent, sweet baby boy deep down who has chosen not to grow up. (And like, if "traumatized people don't see aranara" is really what we're going with, are we actually arguing Kaveh is the only traumatized, "grew up too soon" one here? Did everyone just forget Alhaitham is an orphan with zero surviving family members left in the world and that he spent his entire childhood friendless, at least as far as we've been shown?)

Winning the trust of the aranara is something anyone could do if they show strong enough positive traits--just basic kindness, gentleness, and patience, which I promise you, adults can have.

At the very least, if we're going to suggest Alhaitham is child-like, can't we at least point to his actual childish behaviors, such as constantly pulling Kaveh's pigtails like a schoolboy with his first crush? Throwing hands with anyone who pisses him off too much? Being a jokester who continually sends Paimon books because she picked on him for his choice of reading materials once? At least y'all could have started there... Come on, now.

Phew, this really was a whole rant, but I just needed to get that off my chest. The Hoyo fandoms on twitter are so, so bad. Like man, don't claim people are mischaracterizing someone while not even knowing the lore yourself... Sorry if that sounds harsh, but...

[comical-wheelchairs]

How I Work with Pre-K Kids as a Wheelchair User

I've given these tips to enough other wheelchair users that I figured I could make a post about it, and this blog is aligned enough with it that I figured I could post it here.

I've spent time as an administrator for a pre-K and school age programs, and I am also in my final year to be dual certified as a special education/general education elementary school teacher in America. I am also an ambulatory wheelchair user, but cannot safely move without a mobility aid, even when I am standing/walking. SO. Here's a guide/rundown of how I personally talk about disability with the kids I work with!

When First Meeting a Class

You do not need to explain/justify your wheelchair, and any adult who believes you do is probably doing it for their own curiosity and not an interest in the kids.

My personal recommendation is to say you are always happy to answer questions about yourself, and leave it open ended.

If the class had to be rearranged for your wheelchair and you feel comfortable saying so, I will sometimes say "I'm really grateful that you moved the furniture so I could get around. I can't wait to meet everyone!" It makes it clear why the need is there, and if a kid accidentally blocks you you can always ask them to move so you can get through and remind them.

When They Ask Questions

"Why do you use that?"

I respond by asking them what is 'that' - being careful to speak with a curious tone. For young kids, they might not know the word, and will probably point. From there you can say "oh! this is my wheelchair! have you heard that word before? i use it to get around since walking is [very hard/impossible/not something my body does]."

"Why don't you walk?"

I respond by telling them walking is something I can do for a little while, but it really hurts. Link it to a concrete example. "Have you ever gone into a super hot car, and you could do it for a little, but you wouldn't want to be in there all day?" "Have you ever tried to hold snow (or an ice cube) without gloves, and you could do it for a little but then it started to hurt your hands because it was so cold?" Make it personal, specific, and simple - developmentally they may still need support understanding that other people have different experiences (or might be totally unable to yet).

"How'd you get into that?"

I typically respond silly - "Well, I sat down!" If you want to, and you do not need to, you can make this into a (short, keep it short, their brains are so interested in everything and switch very quickly) lesson on transfers/how people get in/around with their wheelchairs.

"What happened?"

I respond by asking them what they mean. This typically leads to another question which I mentioned above. Alternatively I sometimes say "I realize a wheelchair helps me get around safely!"

"How do you use the bathroom?"

My strategy that's worked best is being calm and friendly while saying "I don't like talking about how I use the bathroom." If you can redirect after that (point out something for them to do, change the subject to something they'll find more interesting) it'll make it easier. If they ask why, you can say that everyone has stuff they don't like talking about and for you it's the bathroom.

Physical Interactions With Your Chair

They touch your chair

We had a big thing about this in my pre-K rooms - what we would do is if a kid tried to touch my chair (or did) I would tell them "It's so cool that you want to explore my wheelchair, but I want to make sure you're safe, because there's a lot of moving parts that can pinch you! Can I give you words for when you want to touch my wheelchair?" If no, then let them know you can't let people who can't be safe touch your wheelchair. If yes, give them a script to ask for permission - you will have to repeat it. A lot. Gentle repetition is your friend and within two months my kiddos were asking everyone permission to touch them at school. My script went "Teacher Pecan, can I touch your wheelchair?" "No, now it's a safe time, because [I am moving a lot/I am tired/I need a break/you have a task to do]. We can check in again [when it is a break time/when I feel better/when you finish your task." "Yes, it is safe to touch my wheelchair right now. Can you point to where you want to touch?"

They kick your chair

Every time a kid kicks/hurts your chair, say "ouch! that hurt! my wheelchair is part of my body, it helps me get around!" Repetition and speaking clearly are your friends. If a kid keeps kicking your chair, finding another thing for them to kick (for example, a ball) can help divert the kicking need into something safer for everyone :)

They (try to) sit in your lap

Gently use your hands to get them off or keep them off. Calmly say "Oops! My wheelchair isn't big enough for the two of us!" If they complain/protest, validate and then explain. My script is "I know it looks like a cool place to sit, but my wheelchair is just for me."

They (try to) push your wheelchair.

My last two chairs had no push handles, but my second one did! It can make sense to panic when I kiddo pushes you - I've had them try to push me into walls (by accident). Here's what I did that worked great: Immediately lock my breaks/grab my pushrims, and calmly say "oops! We don't push wheelchairs without permission!" If they stuck around/didn't immediately run away, I would ask them if they remember a time an adult picked them up and took them somewhere they didn't want to go (typically a car). If they say yes, and even if they say no, I explained that pushing my wheelchair feels just like that, and makes me scared. Most children never pushed it again, and everyone stopped after the second try.

Miscellaneous Tips

"Isn't that cool?" is your friend. Any time a kid is first learning about your wheelchair, end the sentence with it. Any time a kid is nervous about your wheelchair and you explain something, end the explanation with it. "It helps me get around, isn't that cool?" "These are called spokes. Aren't they cool?"

Wheelchairs can be grounding tools when you have a good handle on the class and boundaries! Only if you would like to. My spokes on my last chair were rainbow, and I would use my chair to physically get between them and the emotional trigger, and ask them questions about my spokes. "What colors are next to green?" "Can you point to which one is your favorite?" "Hmmm which color do I get if I mix red with blue?"

"Why doesn't [limb(s)] work?" My left foot is (mostly) paralyzed due to nerve damage, and my script is "My brain can't talk to my foot and tell it to move." You can say whatever you'd like, just try and keep it to basic body parts unless the kiddo is super into anatomy.

If they imply/say wheelchairs are bad, or you might be sad for being in one, you can correct them by telling them how cool your wheelchair is! Get them to compliment it too, if their attention span allows. "I don't feel sad about my wheelchair, I love it! I love the color! Do you? What color do you think I should get next?"

In conclusion - talking calmly, positively, and using repetition of the same words/scripts is a great way to not just exist in a classroom hassle free, but to get kids comfortable with disability/mobility aids at a young age. I have had kids get pinched by my chair (he grabbed my axle from behind), and luckily I had my higher ups on my side and they agreed that I made every effort to keep the kids safe (plus he learned his lesson lol, he always asked permission after that). Your mileage may vary based on admin and their attitudes, so play it by ear, and change any of my tips as needed. Feel free to send questions to this blog too. :)

[tribalauthor]

Hall of Fame (roman × sophia one-shot)

Summary: Roman and Sophia are honored with the task to induct Paul Heyman at the WWE Hall of Fame. On the way home, however, the power couple gets into a power argument. How are they going to resolve it?

A/N: if you want to dive deep into Roman and Sophia's love story, you can check out my fic The Wisewoman

Warning: age difference, smutty

word count: 4.3K

April 5th, 2024

Roman's POV

As a WWE superstar I am beyond used to the many cameras and flashing lights in my face. It's been like this for more than a decade now.

But tonight it's different because I am at the Hall of Fame red carpet side by side with my beautiful girlfriend. This is our first appearance together outside the WWE ring. Not as the Tribal Chief and Wisewoman but more like our true selves added with a little bit of glamour from our custom outfits.

"And here I am, with the most poweful couple in the business, ladies and gentlemen." Jackie approached us with her mic and cameraman behind her. "How are you feeling, guys?

"Amazing. It's an honor to be a part of another Hall of Fame ceremony and even a bigger honor to be here with Sophia." I replied in a matter of fact tone and then Jackie pointed the mic to Sophia.

My million dollar hot girlfriend. Her blonde hair was made into a high bun, wearing a long red dress with her full back exposed and deep cleavage. The dress is so tight that it makes her beautiful round butt pop and her pretty tits are way too out in my opinion and that drives me slightly crazy. You can't help but notice her glowy skin that is also iced out by the jewelery I bought for her.

"I feel lucky to be here tonight with the biggest draw of sports entertainment and also beyond proud of my uncle being a Hall of Fame inductee. He deserves that more than anybody." I can't help but giggle at her for keeping a kayfabe.

"You guys are rocking these outfits. What brand are they?" Jackie remarked.

"They are custom couture." I dilligently pulled down my grey blazer. "I wanted something that screams 'us'." I explained.

"Designers really did their job right. That suit is very fresh and the dress to die for." the brunette woman shook her head and Sophia spinned around in a circle.

"Right? I can't wait to take it off later." that just slipped out of my mouth and I saw Sophia slowly turning towards my direction with a serious rather mad expression.

She really doesn't play when it comes to restraining at work and I am lowkey scared of her because she is even more serious than me in some aspects. Even than Paul himself.

"Let's see how are you gonna play your cards tonight, champ." my girlfriend said with a pure straight face. So straight that it's sociopathic.

I pressed my lips and looked away like an embarrassed teenager. At the end of the day, she calls the shots.

"And you two are going to induct Paul Heyman later. Are you guys nervous?"

"Not really. To be frank even before I got in this business, I wanted to be the person who inducts my uncle in the Hall of Fame. He knew I was going to be the person, so basically I've been anticipating this moment for years and now it's here. I'm excited." Sophia replied with a soft smile and then Jackie pointed the mic at me.

"I-uh. I actually didn't expect Paul to suggest me this and when he did, I said 'no' at first. To induct a tremendous talker like him, you gotta be at his level and I think Sophia is the most perfect example for that." I explained the story briefly.

"I chose both of them because they are the closest people in my life." I heard Paul's voice from behind. There he is, one of my closest friends. Wearing his signature dark blue suit and red tie.

He came close to us with the wheelchair and I helped him put him between me and his niece. It's been three months since he suffered the leg injury and we still don't know when he is going to be back.

Jackie handed him the microphone as Sophia put her hand on her uncle's shoulder.

"There isn't any one more suitable for this than my niece and Roman. Both of them played and still play a big role in my life. First, we have the Tribal Chief promoting me from an advocate to a Wiseman and then Sophia helping me here while I'm absent. And doing an exceptional job, bringing new perspectives in the WWE." he turned his head, so he could look at Soph and then at me, and we both stroked his shoulder.

"My uncle Paul...where do I even start?" Soph started with her speech. She said earlier she ain't worried but we've been practicing our speeches for more than a week.

"He is the most amazing man I know. He's been by my side since I was a little kid, he always supported my decisions and he saw potentials in me that even my parents couldn't see back then. Paul Heyman isn't a typical uncle. You know, most uncles get drunk and talk smack at the family functions. Well, my uncle talks smack without the need of alcohol and he does it in the most dilligent way. So he is not like the rest." I admired her from the side. That woman is just exceptional from head to toe, inside and out and just in every single aspect you could think of.

The whole crowd laughed at her funny remark.

"He's also been my father figure for the last couple years." Sophia suffered a sudden loss of her dad years ago due to suicide and I don't even wanna imagine how that must feel. "He was the most supportive of me to accomplish my dream of getting a degree in journalism, he has taught me about the magic of logic and analytical thinking. He was also the one that suggested my name being Sophia which means 'wisdom'. My name was supposed to be Barbara. Can y'all imagine Barbara Heyman? Outrageous. Thank you, uncle." she looked at him in the crowd with grattitude and he blew her an air kiss. "After everything he has done for me the least I could do is to help him with his work while he is away." Soph continued. "And of course, to induct him in the Hall of Fame."

"Personally, I believe Paul Heyman deserves to be inducted at least three more times. This whole business wouldn't be the same without him. He elevated the company to new heights and he's been doing that since he was a teenager under the training of my dear late grandfather Richard Heyman. Keep up the good work, uncle." that is the conclusion of Sophia's beautiful speech. The crowd applauded loudly and I know my turn is next.

I leaned to the mic and took a deep breath. "This is a ridiculous spot to be in. I gotta cut a promo for the promo himself after the young promo spoke beautiful words. Is this how the roster feels interfering in my family business?" now everyone is laughing.

"Paul Heyman is a man that if you let close to your circle, he can change your life drastically and of course, for the better. He loves to say that I elevated him but this is a mutual work. As much as I elevated him, he elevated me too. There is no Tribal Chief without his Wiseman. Thanks to him, I saw many different perspectives that eventually led to the renaissance of the WWE."

"In a world where people tell you what you want to hear, Paul tells you what you need to hear and he knows exactly when to say it and how to say it. I think it's beautiful. As a man, I kind of even envy him for that ability and I still got a lot to learn in that aspect." I really decided to speak from the bottom of my heart and present my perspective of Paul.

As much as I wanted to go home immediately after the ceremony and enjoy my alone time with Sophia, we had to stay for the after party.

I am an almost 39-year-old man whose time for partying passed long ago. However, Soph is still a young woman who wants to meet different people and try to have a little fun when it's possible.

Of course, I respect that. That's why I agreed to stay here. It's also an occasion to meet with Paul, too cause I didn't visit him that regularly due to the tight schedule.

Right now, we are all in a big hall with the lights quite dimmed and rap misic playing in the background. While me and Paul were talking, I saw Sophia surrounded with her girl friends colleagues - Tiffany, Bianca, Samantha and Rhea, laughing and having a good time obviously.

"Paul, you need to be careful with the drinks." I instructed him. He is on his second glass of bourbon. As of me, I am just drinking a non-alcoholic cocktail. Tomorrow is first night of Wrestlemania, so I have to be in an immaculate condition.

"Oh, Joe, please don't act like my ex-wife. I am finally free from her for a little while." he just told me off and I couldn't help but laugh. He hates his ex-wife but at the end of the day, she is the mother of his kids.

He has the misfortune as he says to be taken care of by her.

"Alright." I put my arms up in defense. "I am just trying to save you from her wrath if you go back home drunk."

"You think I care about her wrath?" Paul furrowed his eyebrows. "I am a grown man. I can do whatever I want. I don't owe anything to Miranda. She decided to take care after me." he tried to prove a point here.

"Because you are the father of her kids. And after everything, y'all have been through, it's normal for her to pull up and help you." tonight is my time to give him wisdom.

"She just wants to annoy me, that's it." his rational way of thinking reminds me of Sophia so much.

"OG, what's up?" the twins finally approached us. I took a look at Sophia's direction and I saw that Theory, Grayson and Carmello joined the girls' party. I looked around the girls' men but they were talking with each other.

I could hear only muffled conversations from my cousins and Paul since my eyes were glued on Sophia and company. The boys seem to be entertaining them. My girlfriend was laughing her tits off.

What are they even talking about? And what is it so funny? They ain't funnier than me. I was about to go and join them but somebody caught my arm and that was Jim.

"Uce, what are you doing?"

"Just gonna check what's going on over there." I replied and got off his grip. Then I saw Paul also examining the view in front of us.

"You are worried about these guys?" he almost ridiculed me. "I can assure you my niece has zero interest. None of them is her type."

"Uce, you are a mature man. Act like one. Leave her be." Josh adviced me and hit my shoulder. I bit my inner cheeks, trying to keep my cool.

"I just can't stand her talking with other men and laughing with them." I said the truth as I put my hands on my hips or as fans call it - the dad pose. "I don't even talk to them, why would she?"

"Do I sense irrationality?" Paul seems in a shock. "I expect it from Roman Reigns but never from Joe."

"Oh, you have no idea." Solo shook his head. "Ever since he met Sophia, he became crazier than usual."

Then I looked at Paul, who has a smug on his face. "Are you in love with my niece?

"I am." I replied immediately since there is no ounce of doubt in this. "And I know that since the day she showed up in Triple H's office, introducing her as my temporary Wisewoman."

Suddenly Paul's smug transformed into a smile of pride and delight. "I knew exactly what I was doing when I sent her to that office."

"What? You knew that-" I couldn't even finish my sentence and my wiseman just nodded his head. "You could have introduced her to me way earlier, by the way." I said in a rather bitter tone.

"By earlier you mean when you were married? Or when she was a minor? It wouldn't have been the same." he shook his head.

"OG, you are really a mastermind." Josh clapped his hands in acknowledgement. I looked at Paul with pure surprise from what I just heard and shook my head, followed by a sip of my non-alcoholic beverage.

"I just want great nephews or nieces." I choked on the drink and the twins started hitting my back. "Sophia's mother wants too but she is too proud to admit it."

"Joe is not ready for kids, I fear." Solo spoke. "If you intend to react like this when Sophia's attention is on the kid and not on you...not sure if you picked the right father for your great nephews, Paul." he shook his head and I playfully grabbed his neck locking it between my arms.

"My judgement, Solo, has always been accurate." the wiseman spoke while the twins tried to get me out of my little cousin.

Once I got off him, I looked at the Sophia and company and now they seem to dance all together. With the boys.

"It was quite a night." Sophia groaned as she rested her back on the smooth black leather seat of the limo we are in.

I decided not to respond but I felt her suddenly putting her legs on my thighs and letting out a groan of relief.

"Those shoes killed me. Jimmy Choo is a secret criminal." I stood there, still silent. Not even moving. "What's up with you? Why aren't you talking?"

"I just don't feel like talking." I finally spoke with a shrug and I caught a smirk on her face.

"Something is wrong then." she concluded and dragged herself closer to me and ending up sitting on my lap.

Again, no reaction from me.

"Talk to me. What's up? Are you nervous for tomorrow?" she seemed so genuine, examining my whole face, trying to lift up my mood but tonight I feel like a grumpy uncle.

"No, I'm just tired." I didn't completely lie. I really am tired but I am also mad. Not sure if it's at her or myself, at this point.

"Okay. I understand." she nodded and then got off me.

I hate how understanding and mature she is. I mean I love it but I hate it cause she is literally the perfect woman and that's exactly why I am so jealous for her.

"You are mad at me." she concluded. Of course, she would understand.

"I am trying to be mad at you but I am more mad at myself." I replied frankly.

"Why? And please don't tell me it was because Austin and Grayson talked to me." I could sense the slight but not weak enough judgement in her tone.

"Nah." I said quietly. "Why were you laughing and dancing with them when you could have danced with me?"

"Oh my God." she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Why you didn't ask me to dance with you? Cause I bet you didn't feel like it."

"I didn't but if you were right by my side I could've felt like it and I would've make you laugh harder." I defended myself.

"Joe, stop making everything a competition. I am in a relationship with you. I am aware you are my dream man, my ideal type and the greatest boyfriend in the world. Why do you feel so bad when you know the truth?" arguing with Sophia Heyman is like a crossword with no right answer.

"Because I am just a selfish man and I want you only for myself." I replied confidently.

"Sweet but I am not your property. Do you see me getting all red about you talking to other women? It's completely fine. I also am aware you have crazy amount of female fans who would give everything to spend even just 5 minutes with you but I am not making a deal out of it. First, because I have self-confidence and self-respect. Second, I just have no other choice but to accept the circumstances." although I see her point, I cannot be completely sure how she would react if she sees me laughing with another woman or dancing. Perhaps she is right because she is way too logical and sometimes I love it but right now I hate it.

"And now you are probably gonna diagnose me as an insecure loser. Okay. If that's what you think." I shrugged still trying to sound calm.

"Where in my speech did you hear me saying that? If you were like that, do you think I'll be with you right now in your limo, wearing the dress and the jewellery you bought for me? If I thought you were an insecure loser, I'd never even breathe in your direction, trust me. Your confidence is what mostly attracted me to you, Joe. And that possessiveness was funny at the beginning but it surely starts getting out of hand now." if we were in a wrestling match right now, I'd be taking the pin in that very moment.

The saddest thing is I know that she is right and I know I am being childish as hell although I am approaching my 40s but that's what she does to me.

"Were you that possesive of your ex-wife, too?" one thing about me is that I kick out at 2.999 seconds and I felt the rage building up in me.

"Why does that have to matter now, Sophia?" I slightly raised my voice. My ex-wife had a completely different job from mine. She was an interior designer but to be completely honest, I definitely didn't have the same level of toxic possessiveness like I do now.

"It matters. Are you a possessive guy in general or you are like that because of me?" I wrinkled my lips and started shaking my leg intensely.

Suddenly, the car stopped and the driver said we arrived in front of the hotel. He definitely heard our quarrel despite the partition being rolled.

I, of course, thanked him and gave him a big tip since he wasn't obligated to listen to me and Sophia's dramas.

"We are gonna finish upstairs." she announced coldly and got out of the car. I had no other choice but to follow her.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about Miss Perfect. We always have to look unbothered and cold and diligent. I thought I was too much until I met you." I continued speaking as we walked at the sidewalk and the black and gold automatic door opened for us to get into the hotel reception.

"Was this supposed to be an offence?" she replied calmly and quietly as we reached the elevator. Again, I feel like a loser. She is so calm and reserved while I I'm on fire right now.

"Take it as you want." I pressed the number 10 button which is the floor of our room we are staying at. "And to answer to your question - no, I'm not usually the possessive type." I tried to sound as calm as her for now.

"Sweet." she said in the most sociopathic way possible, not even looking at me. "But as I told you, I am not your property."

I took a deep breath and I got close to her, pinning her at the metal wall.

"I've never said you are a property. I know you are a human being, Sophia, but you are mine. You understand?" I spoke with my voice low and as much as she tried to look unbothered I saw a spark in her deep blue eyes and I felt her heart beating against mine.

"What does it mean to be yours? I fear our interpretations may not be mutual or even close." she asked me. That's what being with Sophia means - always mind stimulations, logic at its finest mixed with grace and of course, insane dose of attractiveness. "You think that being yours means to be tied to you physically while I see it as souls being tied. It has nothing to do with the physical."

Ding.

We just reached the floor. Although I feel I am close to defeat, I still have time to think until we get in our room.

Once we entered in the spacious accommodation and closed the door behind me, I finally decided to give an answer.

"You are right, but I still think there is a physical aspect behind the meaning. All the stuff we do, while no one is watching." as I was explaining like a teacher, I saw her taking off her beautiful red custom dress, leaving herself with a bare chest and red lacy lingerie which I felt like tearing apart at the very moment. However, she took it off leaving herself completely naked. "And also forgetting what we were even arguing about once I see your beautiful naked body, the painters won't be able to execute perfectly." she knows what she is doing but I saw her grabbing the white towel and heading to the bathroom completely unfazed.

"Take your time and think about this." she shouted after me and got in the bathroom. I am not gonna think about anything.

With no any second wasted, I swiftly took my clothes off and let my hair down cause I know Sophia loves when it's fully down withe curls. I got in the bathroom which is rather spacious and with a big glass shower cabin. She was just turning the water on like she turns me on, too.

"Get out of here. I didn't invite you in." she said coldly but I didn't listen at all and went to her in the cabin. "Joe." she looked annoyed.

"Okay, you win." I raised my arms indicating I am giving up. "You win."

"Because I am right or because I took my clothes off. Be honest." she is always seeing through people and asked with a dose of skepticism.

"Both." I finally said and she rolled her eyes. "But you are completely right, okay. You are right that belonging to somebody isn't just physical but it does play a part too." I said and got closer to her.

"It plays part in the sex and not with getting upset at me attempting to form some sort of relationship with colleagues who can be males, too." she took the shower gel and put some on her hand, spreading it around her body.

I bit my lower lip and started helping her, caressing her body. To my surprise, she didn't tell me to get away.

"I agree." I nodded my head and slid one of my hands to her private parts and with the other, I cupped her breast.

Sophia cleared her throat.

"Hands to yourself!" she demanded but I leaned to kiss her instead.

"I am sorry, okay? But you are just so perfect that I wanna show you off to the whole world while I also want to gatekeep you." I genuinely apologized. "I know I shouldn't feel this way and I promise I am gonna work on this." I read through her eyes and I saw her cold rather annoyed look soften a bit and then she kissed my lips softly.

"Apology accepted." she finally showed her beautiful smile that can light up the whole city.

We exchanged another kiss that grew in deeper ones and not so slow-paced as we usually do. The lingering anger from the argument is still existent and can be felt in our kisses.

"Agh." Sophia moaned out loud as I put my dick in her hole. The remnants of the pique we both experienced can be felt in our sex, too. I was doing fast and deep thrusts in her because as much as I am sorry, I also have a statement to make. No other man will make her feel how I do. And I'm not gonna say it out loud because I want her to feel it.

Our bodies are glued to glass that has became extremely foggy and not just by the hot water dripping on them but also because of our hot breaths.

Sophia's legs are tied around my waist while my hands are holding the glass in front of me, so I can give her a full, deep experience.

Her moans, rougher and louder than usual, echoing through the whole bathroom mixed with my deep growls as backing vocals.

She just feels so amazing and looks the most amazing when I am the reason she feels good. And the fact that I am the only man that has ever made her feel good boosts my ego even more.

Both of us came in unison and I buried my head in her neck, breathing heavily while she arched her back and released all the moans like she just got free of the annoyance I brought to her earlier.

We stared at each other for a bit, talking with our eyes for now, faces extremely close and our hot breaths in a wind battle.

After exchanging a deep long kiss, Soph got on the ground barely holding on her feet. When I saw that for the moment she can't walk or stand straight, I took her in bridal style and marched to the bed.

"I love you." I finally said. We were hugging in bed, ready to fall asleep and since we started with the sex, we actually almost didn't say a word. I think we said more than enough before that.

Soph flashed me with her sweet smile, making me feel like the sun just rised and it's morning already although it's past midnight.

"I love you too, Joe." she replied and then I kissed her forehead. "You are the only inductee in Sophia's Hall of Fame, remember that." she giggled and I followed her too. I probably sounded like a school girl but that's the effect she has on me.

I pulled her really tight to my embrace and kissed her head, caressing her arms and didn't realize when we actually fell asleep like this.

THE END.

[seaglasswrites]

So, able-bodied people on, like, TikTok or whatever have been having a field day talking about how Nessarose could never be played by a disabled actress because she gains the ability to walk at the end of the film.

And if you are one of those people, I’m going to try my best to explain this to you as nicely as possible: You know how when we’re kids, we think that our teachers live at the school and chocolate milk comes from brown cows? Well, it’s kind of like that. When we’re, like, 8, we think that all wheelchair users are paralyzed and physically can’t move their legs, but when we get older we realize that most wheelchair users can move their legs, and a lot of them can even walk.

The reason I used an example revolving around children being stupid is because if you actually don’t know what the word ambulatory means, I think you’re stupid. I think if you’re that uneducated about how disabled people’s bodies work, you probably aren’t old enough to use social media in the first place!

And I’m not exaggerating the level of sheer idiocy you have to possess to make these kinds of posts and comments: I literally saw someone say that maybe they’d string the movie actress up like they did for Cynthia during the scene where she flied! That’s genuinely the type of thing a little kid would believe!

To top it all off, these questions aren’t coming from a place of genuine interest and confusion; Literally every person I’ve seen has been reveling in the opportunity to be smug and superior to a stupid cripple. People are jumping at the chance to correct a disabled person about how our bodies work and what is and isn’t ableist.

Maybe I’m overly pissed, but I have a right to be! You people have a child’s understanding of how physical disability works without even a child’s compassion or benefit of the doubt. I’m happy to explain to Timmy, age 7, why the sky changes colors. I’m not happy to explain basic knowledge to a grown adult.

[eveningspirit]

This little story is so far removed from The Pitt canon, that I don't even know if I should post it on AO3. Maybe later?

It's "Inconsistencies 'verse", so it's disabled Frank Langdon story. And it's also Shendon. Because my brain is apparently not immune to propaganda.

Also, it doesn't have a title. Yet. It's about 1200 words. John Shen PoV, first year pre-med.

.#

John has a boyfriend back home. They’ve been together since freshman year of high school, since they sat in that closet together, for three hours, listening to footsteps and screams and gunshots.

They sometimes laugh about it. How they survived a literal closet, so they were never in the closet about their feelings and their relationship. Rest of the town be damned.

John doesn’t have many friends. Actually, he only has one true friend. His boyfriend, Tony. They live—or lived, John has moved out and he’s not going back—in a traditional neighborhood of a middle-sized town, in the northern mid-west. Most kids at their school frowned upon an openly—brazenly—gay teenage couple. But he and Tony helped each other survive. Such experience bonds people for life.

Except, Tony is back home now, and John is here, in Pittsburgh.

Tony didn’t want John to go. Tony had low SAT score and average GPA. He wasn’t really interested in college at all, and John’s ambitions to apply for combined BA/MD programs sometimes made him laugh and other times made him angry.

Sometimes John wanted to give up his ambitions. And sometimes he didn’t.

John’s parents though, especially his Mother, would not let him quit, ever. She would scream at him in Chinese, if he got a B+ in AP Bio or Chem, so he wouldn’t even think about sharing his occasional doubts with her. She was a physical therapist herself. His Dad, when John once wondered out loud if, maybe, he would follow in her footsteps, gave him a long look and asked if he would tell Mom himself, or if this was a request for Dad to tell Mom in his stead. John only shook his head and went back upstairs to learn for his SATs.

So, John is in college now. He shares dorm room with Matthew, but they don’t talk a lot. Matthew has third girlfriend in as many weeks.

Tony stopped picking up John’s calls last week.

John likes his courses though, they keep him occupied and he’s not thinking about Tony not picking up his calls. He asked his younger brother, if everything is okay with Tony, because for a moment there, he was scared something happened. But nothing happened. Danny swung by the workshop where Tony worked and saw him fixing a green Chrysler. John doesn’t want to think what it means, that Tony doesn’t pick his calls.

Organic Chemistry is a good reason to think about something else. To think about hydrocarbons—alkanes, alkenes and alkynes—and their saturation, for example.

Maybe John should have stayed home?

No. He has moved out and he’s not coming back to their medium sized town in the northern mid-west. He’s going to learn all the properties of aliphatic and aromatic and heterocyclic compounds and all the bones of the wrist and even ways to solve triangles. And astronomy, if he has to. He’s going to become a doctor, like his Mother wants. Like he wants. And Tony…

Maybe Tony will accept it?

John looks at his phone under his desk, but there are no new messages.

The teacher finishes his lecture, thanks the class and says, “See you next Tuesday.” Then he adds. “Oh, hey, you, the kid in the wheelchair?”

The class falls silent as all thirty-plus students stop packing their books for a moment and stare. At the teacher first, then at the kid in the wheelchair.

John has seen him before. Thin, big head, chin dimple. He doesn’t know the guy’s name but it’s hard not to notice the one guy in a wheelchair on the campus. He’s in a room on the first floor, near the entrance, in the same dorm as John. Everyone knows that.

“Could you stay a moment?” the teacher finishes, like he hasn’t noticed the class’s consternation.

It must be awkward to be singled out like that.

The guy in the wheelchair doesn’t seem phased, though.

“Sure, sir. What’s this about?”

The teacher rises his head. He’s been packing his bag too. “I want to talk to you,” he replies. Clearly, he planned to talk to the guy in the wheelchair one-on-one. Once the rest of the class will have left.

The class is strangely slow leaving though. Like they all know.

“You can talk,” says the guy in the wheelchair.

The teacher rises his eyes again, looks at all the other students, who look at him in return.

“Uh,” the teacher is at least a little disconcerted. “I think it’s better if we talk alone,” he clarifies his position.

The guy in the wheelchair casts a glance at the people standing the closest. His roommate, another guy and a couple girls. They all nod. Neither of them even started packing.

“It’s okay. You can talk now,” the guy in the wheelchair says.

“Look,” The teacher appears more bugged, impatient even, than humbled. “I only want to make it easier for you.” John wonders how it will all turn out. Only a few students have left the class. Some hang around near the door. The four nearest to the guy stand their ground. So do some others all over the classroom. Including John. The teacher looks at them. He’s a little angry now. “Alright then.” He slaps his backpack closed. “I wanted to spare you humiliation, but if this is what you want. Are you aware that this is a pre-med track Organic Chemistry course?”

“Yes,” the guy replies with a straight face.

“As in, for future medical school students.”

“Yes. That’s why I’m in this class.”

The teacher sighs. “Listen. You’re probably smart, right? You may have had great test scores and, hell, what do I know, perhaps a perfect essay. But medicine is not a theoretical science. It’s practice.” He pauses, like what he said is supposed to be a clear and obvious argument.

John watches the guy in the—no, he can’t think about him as the guy in the wheelchair. He wishes he knew his name. The guy with a chin dimple. That’s better. Gonna be good enough for now. He watches the guy with a chin dimple with curiosity bordering on excitement.

The guy with a chin dimple nods. “I know,” he says. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?” he asks.

Like. Say what you’re implying, Mr. Teacher. John looks at the teacher and he smiles internally.

The teacher angles his head. “No. I wanted to tell you that you can’t practice medicine in a wheelchair,” he spells it out.

And. Ouch. Well. He’s not wrong, John thinks and he wishes he was. He wishes there was a way for a man who had clearly overcome a lot of obstacles already, to be able to overcome this too, but reality is brutal.

John looks at Chin Dimple and… is that pity, he’s feeling? Shit.

But Chin Dimple is not fazed. “That’s okay,” he says and his voice carries in the silent classroom. “Because I’m going to be walking in three years.”

Wow.

That’s impressive!

John wants to applaud Chin Dimple, but he stays silent, like the rest of the class.

The teacher is speechless. Chin Dimple turns his chair around and wheels out of the classroom, followed by his four friends and then, the rest of the students. They are all smirking and quietly commenting with things like, “way he told him,” or “what an asshole!”.

And John?

John thinks he may have fallen in love. A little bit.

.#

Thank you for reading.

Don't tell me if you didn't like it? *hides*

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi

I know this is a really stupid question but what does it mean when people say "If you can take that detail out and it doesn't change the story, it doesn't belong there"?

I have autism so that's probably why I'm not understanding, but to me it doesn't make sense. If I take something out, it will change the story, because,,, I'm literally taking something out. I'm changing it. The story had something, and now it doesn't.

I just don't know how to figure out what "doesn't belong".

It always seems like people use that "advice" whenever it comes to a character being disabled/POC/gay/etc. so I'm a little wary of it tbh.

When Removing a Detail Changes a Story Fundamentally vs Superficially

If you remove a detail from your story, no matter how small, it "changes" the story in that the detail is no longer there. However, there's a difference between a fundamental change (something that changes the story dramatically) versus a superficial change (something that changes the story in a trivial way.)

For example, let's say you have a scene where your character is eating ice cream with a friend, and they vehemently ask for no cherry on top. Does the cherry, and whether or not your character mentions it, have any bearing on the story later? Does your character's vehement rejection of the cherry tell us anything critical about the character?

Let's say that the cherry is important because as a result of this vehement rejection, we learn that the character is allergic to sulfides (which are used in the productions of maraschino cherries), and this sulfide allergy becomes important later in the story. Removing this moment, where they vehemently ask for no cherry on top, would fundamentally change the story because without it, the reader wouldn't learn that the character has a sulfides allergy, which becomes important later. This is a change that would deeply affect the story.

On the other hand, let's say the character doesn't have a sulfides allergy, they just don't like cherries, and this is not an important character detail and never comes up again. In this case, this vehement rejection of the cherry on top doesn't add anything to the story. Removing it only changes the story superficially, not in a way that matters.

So, to tell whether or not removing a detail would fundamentally change the story, ask yourself: "Does removing this detail prevent the story from playing out the way I planned it? Does removing this detail mean the reader won't understand a character or something that happens later?" If the answer to one or both of these questions is "yes," that makes it a fundamental change. If the answer to both questions is "no," it's a superficial change.

When it comes to the details of diversity like race, culture, religion, disability, sexual orientation, and gender identity, the issue tends to be more about making sure you're not just "painting on" this detail of diversity. Like... you can have a character who uses a wheelchair without that detail being the most important thing about the character, and without it playing a major role in the story, but you also need to make sure you create a thoughtful, authentic portrayal of a person who uses a wheelchair. In other words, you wouldn't want to gloss over or trivialize the ways in which being in a wheelchair affects the character. For example, let's say you have a group of characters who are solving a mystery and it requires them to go into an old abandoned house on a rocky hillside. The only way to access the house is up a flight of wobbly rock steps. You wouldn't want to just illustrate the character effortlessly wheeling themselves up these steps, because that would be unrealistic and inauthentic. At that point, the wheelchair just becomes a detail that's "painted on" because it doesn't really have any impact on the character or the story. But, if you show the other characters helping this character up the steps, or finding an alternate route for them to use, that makes sure this detail (that they use a wheelchair) isn't superficial.

The best way to make sure you create a thoughtful, authentic portrayal of a diverse character--when you, yourself, do not share that diversity trait--is to make sure you have a qualified sensitivity reader who does share that trait (and potentially more than one if possible) so they can let you know if there are issues with your portrayal.

Let me know if you have further questions!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[radiotransmissionaac]

want share some examples what communicating looks like daily for me with full time aac user nonverbal.

live alone not always talk to people face to face.

during day text friends. Sometimes if low scribal day (not write language good or at all), use emojis, images or aac on phone.

Most time write like see here, but if need ‘professional’ email sometimes can mask good write like how needed. (Blegh ableism)

If parents call, use video chat do Auslan (sign language). Big big lucky, Radio’s parents learn Auslan so talk to Radio.

When go shopping almost always use no tech aac like pointing, facial expressions & much simple Auslan (yes, no, thank you). Carry comm cards with for emergencies. Have different comm cards for how complex feel can use.

When catch train/tram, sometimes need tell driver which stop (because wheelchair.) so write out big letters piece of paper to show. This most easy because drivers not always understand numbers on hands or can hear/see AAC device.

When see friends person, use AAC device either picture board or text to speech, depend on what able which day. Sometimes small phrase can use Auslan while make word shapes with mouth & friends lip read. Or sometimes Auslan gestural so make sense even if not learn language.

If go somewhere alone like cafe use either point to menu or AAC device. If with friends often talk to friends ask order/speak for me. Not all AAC users like this so ask person you’re with first.

Know unique spot be LSN + always nonverbal AAC user so happy answer questions & advice.