#phone for hearing impaired with text

[hearworldusa]

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[describe-things]

[ID: A digital painting in pastel colors showing a colorful crowd of different animals holding a Palestinian and Indiginous Australian flags, with text above them that reads, "From the river to the Sea, always was, always will be", with white doves flying next to the flags. A small artist's signature at the bottom reads, "jesterpunk". End ID.]

[Emoji description: A white dove with a green sprig. A black heart, a yellow heart, a red heart, and the Palestinian flag. End emoji description.]

🕊️ every year in my lifetime, I've seen an ugly blue british flag printed on single use cups and ugly tshirts on January 26th, celebrating stolen land, stolen language and stolen children. this year in particular, I feel the need to make my politics clear through art, as the horrors of colonialism and genocide are mirrored internationally in Palestine. I want to be clear, you do not get to enjoy my art without knowing clearly what my politics are, and you do not get to ignore my politics as an inherent part of my art. no one is free until everyone is free 🖤💛❤️🇵🇸

[tinytennisskirt]

Rumours

Art x Fem!Reader

Summary: You hate hookup culture, so your roommate Tashi sets you up with her boyfriend’s best friend. A nasty rumour interferes with the date and confusion ensues, but there’s still time to fix things so the night isn’t a complete waste. It can still be cute and romantic.

Warnings: written in my notes app and unedited- miscommunication trope, mentions of sex and certain foreplay, one kiss.

So you’d managed to find yourself scheduled for a date with Art Donaldson, college tennis player. It was of course, the work of your best friend and roommate Tashi Duncan. She’d set it all up- all it took was one night of margaritas and sitting upside down on your bed, feet up against the wall, saying, “I’m kind of tired of being alone. I want to do things, I want to go on dates and I want to fall in love and out of it without the pressure for make out and hookup culture. It’s so tiring to sit here night after night.”

And Tashi was immediately on it. She whipped out her phone and was texting someone and you didn’t hear about it until the next day, sober. She’d set you up for a date with one of her friends. You weren’t involved in her passion for tennis and you were relatively new to this place, so you hadn’t met Art before. But he sounded nice enough. Tashi described him as a bit taller than her, but she stood at 5’10, so that meant he had to be around 6ft. Blonde, curly-ish waves and big ears. You’d chuckled a little at that.

Tashi didn’t warn you about anything, she was excited and set the date up for 7pm. Art would swing by your dorm and come get you and you’d go for dinner, practically a blind date. Or a vision-impaired date.

You carried out your class of the day, excited. Tashi said she’d lay out your perfect outfit while you were in classes after she got back from tennis with Patrick. You’d met Patrick, of course, he was over quite a bit. He was best friends with Art, you knew that much. It was funny he was never around.

When your partner for an assignment, Mary, who was one of your class friends- asked why you looked so eager to get out of class, you apologized. She laughed, “It’s okay, we are already ahead on the project, you’re allowed to slack a little.” You apologized again.

“I promise I’m invested,” you chuckled. “I have a date tonight is all. I haven’t been on a date in… forever.”

Mary tilted her head with intrigue, “Oooh, where to?”

“Some restaurant called The Bistro?” You answered. “Apparently it’s not much of a Bistro and just a nice place to eat and get a drink.”

“I love it there! They have great garlic bread but I don’t recommend for a first date,” she laughed and shut the book you two were annotating. You smiled. “Who with? Is it the cute barista guy from the campus coffee shop who was totally eyeing you yesterday? Please say it is.”

You shook your head, “You know my roommate Tashi? She set me up with one of her tennis friends- Art Donaldson?” You noticed Mary’s smile fall. No. What? “What is it?” You pressed immediately.

Mary shook her head, “I’m sure it’s fine. I just know you- that’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that I know you hate hookup culture with a passion. I know you. And I also know things about Art… he has a reputation.” She cringed away like you were going to explode. You weren’t. You found the anticipation in your stomach was fading slowly.

“Oh…”

“But it’s just a rumour… I’ve heard from a few girls he’s only good for sex.” She waved her hands around like mad. “It could be totally a lie but I’ve heard it from… quite a few girls. Too many. Just be aware.”

You clicked your tongue. It figured. “Thank you. I had no idea.”

Mary apologized to you and gave you the rest of her energy drink because she felt so bad about breaking it to you- which you both laughed about. It was a bit funny, but the idea of going out with someone sex-oriented was something that you weren’t interested in. You weren’t about that- After being used in that way before you promised you wouldn’t put yourself in that position again. But rumours were rumours.

Despite everything, a date was a date. You’d get free dinner out of it, hopefully. Maybe. And you could always call Tashi to come get you. You went back to the dorm and Tashi had laid out something velvety and pretty for you with a small sweater and some black heels. She’d done well. You did your hair and makeup nicely and the clock continued to tick as you thought this over. Did you really want this?

The knock on the door snapped you out of you staring yourself down in the mirror. The time to contemplate was up and it was too late. You could just… not answer the door? Maybe he’d go away after a bit. But you were hungry and ramen compared to restaurant food did not seem so appealing. You hated what you were doing with every fibre of your being, but you opened the door with a smile.

He stood there in a sweater and nice pants, hair blonder than you’d imagined, and a toothy grin on his face. He looked sweet. That was your first impression. You didn’t notice the way his jaw went slack a little the moment you opened the door because as pretty as Art imagined you’d be, you were prettier.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey,” he replied, extending his hand. “I’m Art. You must be y/n.” It wasn’t often anyone asked to shake your hand like this. You shook it gently. “Tashi told me a lot about you but I didn’t know you’d be so…” he stopped himself and smiled at his feet. “I am too forward already.”

“You’re doing fine,” I smiled. I tried to put my prejudice aside. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you as well.”

He smiled a crooked smile. Almost like a smirk, but I hoped it wasn’t a smirk. You could like a crooked smile a whole lot better. The two of you made introductions and began to walk through the dorm and outside. “I’ve been having car trouble lately. The back seats are a bit of a mess, it’s where my put the parts I’m working on.” He said before opening the passenger side door for you. He was nice. Sweet even. You didn’t mind the backseat was a mess.

“Thank you,” you said, slipping into the car. The car smelled like a mix of cinnamon and apples and a bit like a car, but good enough. The conversation on the way there consisted of talking about music. He liked the same stuff you did, apparent by the amount of cds he had in his glovebox. He was funny, too. You liked that. He was cracking jokes effortlessly and looked at you a bit much for someone who was driving but eventually you got there and sat down and ordered.

“So what’s tennis like?” You asked, folding your hands on the table. “A question from an outsider.”

“Competitive,” he replied. “But I’ve been at it since I was a kid, me and Patrick- you’ve met Patrick, which now I come to think he has mentioned you as well- me and Patrick went to the same tennis academy.”

You nodded, “So it’s been your life.”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink, “Yeah. I’d say I’m pretty good but I would like an outsiders perspective, you know.” He smiled even wider and it only got more crooked. You smiled back. He was inviting you to watch him play. “What’s your thing? Your life?” He asked.

You grinned, “Maybe writing. Or reading? It’s boring, but-“

“It’s not boring,” Art interrupted. “I like reading in my downtime. I just finished The Turn of The Screw.”

“For fun?”

“For fun,” he laughed. He had a nice laugh and a smooth voice. Mary’s voice echoed around your head, repeating the ghosts of his past. He was almost too good to be true. He read for fun? A sports-oriented man who read for fun? You leaned on your fist. He looked you in the eyes, trying to read you, almost angling his head as if it would help him see into your mind. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine,” you nodded, smiling a little bit embarrassedly. But you straightened your posture out. “You read for fun as a boy in college, it’s rare. I like it.”

He looked down at his plate, almost sheepishly. You didn’t know he was hiding the flush in his cheeks that went from ear to ear. The conversation carried on and he was still sweet. The food arrived and you talked about school and life before it and you were really beginning to see past the rumours.

Near the end of dinner you used the washroom quickly. You fixed up your blush and powder. He was nice. He was really nice and really sweet and he was full of compliments in subtle ways, about the small things. But you couldn’t stop thinking about what Mary had said. Who was to say that-

Your thoughts met an abrupt end as a girl in the bathroom of the restaurant tapped your arm. She was tall, thin, with hair like red velvet. You nstantly recognized her from my first class of the day, she was a girl who raised her hand often. “Hey!” She greeted me, wrapping slender arms around your neck in a hug you weren’t expecting. She smelled strongly of whiskey. Oh…

“Hi…” you said warily, patting her on the back as she pulled away. “How are you?”

She smiled a drunken smile. “I’m good! But I have to tell you something- I saw who you’re out with and I just wanted to come and warn you- he’s a player and I heard he’s only in the game for a fuck.” She giggled but shushed herself immediately after and leaned against the wall.

The pit feeling in your stomach made it churn. Things were really going well with Art, you were fractions away from letting it all go. He read for fun, for fucks sake. You bit your lip- “How do you know?” You asked. It wasn’t as if a drunk girl would give a great answer but maybe enough of one.

She pointed at you, “A friend of a friend went out with him… steak I think. And he was all nice-“ she hiccuped. You braced yourself. Art was still out there… maybe. Why couldn’t things just be easy? You felt the fight or flight kick in. “But after he expected his dick sucked or whatever-“

Your stomach dropped again. Fuck! Why couldn’t men be nicer? Easier? More full of love and not lust. You stood in this bathroom believing in a drunk redhead and you hated it. You pulled out your phone and wanted to call Tashi. But this was Tashi’s friend so suspicions that he was a boy who used women and it just felt wrong. You sighed a deep, long sigh. “He expected it?”

“Yeah! He was all pushy.” She said. “Anyways I gotta go, just had to tell you.”

“Wait-“

She stumbled away. You inhaled again, so deep you ran out of capacity. You were not the kind of girl who valued men like that or kept them around. Was it so hard to just be loved and cherished? For fucks sake, fucks sake! You were gripping the edge of the sink so hard, your knuckles were white. He was so cute, he really was. Blonde curls, crooked smile, the way he spoke and he was so charming.

You walked out of the bathroom and back to the table, Art smiled as you sat back down. “Hey, you okay?” He asked. “I was thinking of getting dessert… do you want to share or… I’m happy to get you one for yourself.”

You pressed your tongue to your cheek, “Art… I think I’m going to cut our night short.” You started, looking down, away from him. It was a bit too late, you’d seen his face fall, his smile slip away into softly opened lips.

“Oh,” he nodded, pulling out his wallet. You stopped him too quickly, nearly putting a hand on his and immediately yanking your hand back.

“No-“ you said. “I’ll pay, I’m sorry I wasted your time.” Anything to get away from someone whose rumours had followed you to the restaurant. There was a time

He shook his head, “It’s okay, really. I-uh…”He shook his head again. You hated the feeling in your stomach as it rose and fell again and again. “I’m sorry.” He said.

You wondered why. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” The rumours were too much. He raised his hand for the bill. “I’m just… I…” you found yourself unable to lie and say you felt sick. He looked at you, eyes meeting eyes with nothing else to look at but how blue they were, with a bit of brown on the left eye. But he wasn’t company you wanted to keep. “I’m sorry.” And you paid with your card when the waiter came. He looked away from you and you messaged Tashi to come get you.

He stood with you outside, the wind tousled your hair. You looked over at him looking out over the parking lot bathed in purple light from the restaurant sign. You looked away. He looked over at you, but you didn’t see it until he took a deep breath. “Was it something I said?” He asked. You looked at him, not turning your body, but your head. “I’m sorry for asking, I know how it sounds, but part of me isn’t going to let this go unless I know if it was my fault.”

You looked at your feet in your pretty shoes. “It wasn’t anything you said,” you replied. The silence amongst the nearby whoosh of traffic was unbearable. Your eyes met. You hated being terrified of being used- girls like Tashi embraced it for the experience but you were tired. And maybe if you were more naive or not so set on a high standard then you wouldn’t be leaving before dessert. You wished you weren’t terrified of it. And you wished you were tired. Art nodded. More silence.

What an awkward first date. You wished you hadn’t left the dorm in the first place. The wind moved his hair around. His hands stayed in his pockets. “Should have let me pay,” he chuckled quietly. “I have to go back to my dorm to tell Patrick not only did I fuck up a date with a pretty girl but she paid too. You know you’d be saving me from him if you stayed? You know him…”

His little attempts at bringing levity made you smile and you hated it. “I’m sorry,” was all you said. It felt like all you could say. He smiled a bit back at you. Tashi pulled up in her jeep and you waved at him. He waved back. A silent goodbye.

The door wasn’t even closed and Tashi was speaking, “Why? What did he do?”

You didn’t know she’d be unhappy. “I heard things about him? A girl pulled me aside in the bathroom to warn me- I was told a few things about him today and it threw me off, I can’t-“

“Art is the sweetest guy I know, you couldn’t even finish your meal? I get that you know what you want but I went out of my way to try and get you what you wanted and… I’m so sorry but that’s not right. What you did. You could have stuck it out.” She spoke a mile a minute.

“I heard he’s only in it for sex!” You said, defending yourself. You and Tashi didn’t fight, you had to voice it or else she wouldn’t understand.

“What?”

“Mary told me- and then the redhead girl from my morning class at the restaurant told me-“

“Mary Sinclair?” Tashi said. “Call her right now.”

“Hm?” Her words were whizzing out of her mouth and they were sharp. She was genuinely never like this with you. She was only like this when she knew she was in the right.

“Call Mary Sinclair,” she repeated. She started driving away. “I’m sorry I’m yelling- please.” You listened because Tashi was so firm.

“Hey,” Mary started when she picked up. “How was your date?”

Tashi grabbed the phone from you- “Hey Mary, this is Tashi. Just calling to ask- You said something about Art Donaldson?”

She stuttered on the other line. You narrowed your eyebrows. This was fast. This was very strange and out of character for how you and Tashi treated each other. Tashi looked over at you, driving with one hand. “Yeah, I mean. I know he sleeps with girls on the first date. And I know he’s a player of sorts- I was only warning- I heard from a friend of a friend.”

“Which Art Donaldson?” Tashi followed up, her tone still strong. Straight to the point. You were honestly afraid she’d crash putting all her effort into the power of her voice.

Mary clicked her tongue, “Tennis player? Tall, wears a lot of sweaters. Brown hair, big nose, kinda long-“ and you perked up. “He’s roommates or… friends with that blonde guy.”

Oh fuck. What did that mean? You had a feeling but you hated what it truly meant. You looked at Tashi, who arched her eyebrow at you. “Who spread those rumours?” She followed up. “I mean- who told you that?”

“I heard them from Tessi,” she replied. You immediately knew who that was. That was bathroom redhead girl. Oh my god. “Why? What’s going on?”

Tashi spoke through her teeth, “Who did she hear them from?”

“Some girl he went out with three months ago. I forget, she’s a friend of Tessi’s I think and her name is… Val?”

“Fuck!” Tashi said aloud. You were caught up in how fast this was unfolding and the moving car and Art. Who was Art? “Thanks Mary!” She hung up and put my phone back in my lap. “I’m sorry, y/n, this is not fair to you or to Art.”

“I’m- what the fuck?”

“They’re talking about Patrick. Someone is confused, they’re talking about Patrick, Val is his ex… before me. She hates his guts, she thinks he played her. He didn’t, he just… wanted me. Someone along the line mistook him for Art, got their names mixed up- you’re right for trusting your gut.”

You just blinked. Tashi veered a little harshly. “Patrick? They think Art is Patrick? Somehow? That’s so- how? They’re so different.”

“I don’t know either- I’m sorry I’m yelling- Patrick is the so-called player, not Art.” And your stomach dropped lower than it had before. And your heart instantly gushed. He was not a dick, he wasn’t a player, he was just everything you hated to like- he was charming, kind, he read for fun, he was complimentative and funny and you had just fucked him over after what was a good date, inner thoughts aside. And he even asked you stay, god he thought he did something wrong. You felt ache in your fingertips.

“Tashi, can we beat Art back?”

Tashi pressed her hand to her forehead, “Boys dorms?”

“Please,” you said. Suddenly it was urgent. The whirlwind picked you up again. Tashi who was already driving a little recklessly turned her jeep onto campus grounds as fast as she could. You feared a little for your life. You had just done something awful to what was the perfect guy and it was all under false notions, your prejudice, your fear of someone being two-faced or fake and not being genuine.

“You can’t get in without a keycard, you have to catch him before he gets in and that’s his car parked right there in the lot,” she veered over to the entrance and saw Art walking down the side of the building. He was sweet and quite perfect and you ruined everything. She could have called Patrick who she knew was hanging out there, she could have helped but there wasn’t another thought in your mind. You ditched your bag in her car and got out of the jeep just to have your ankle immediately bend when your high-heeled feet hit the ground. What a misunderstanding, it burned in your chest and fingertips like an ache. The pain in your ankle was momentary only because you needed to move. You kicked the shoes away and ran, barefoot on the grass, across it to the sidewalk, feet hitting the rough hard ground. You had never felt faster. You didn’t call his name, you didn’t want to make him turn.

You ran and you ran and he was at the door, reaching for his key card. This was a great mistake- this was a crazy mistake. You almost ran into him, you stopped just before and he turned his head, eyes widening a bit. Your curled hair had grown in volume from the wind, your nose was pink, your breaths were heavy and harsh and you were barefoot.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. He met your eyes. You couldn’t catch your breath, your lungs burned and your heart beat a mile a minute. “Art, I’m so sorry.” You pressed your hand to your stomach. “Something happened, some misunderstanding and I- I let it determine how I felt about you and truth is you were lovely but the false information I’d been given overshadowed it and I-“ you huffed. “God, I’m saying I fucked up. Aside from that you were perfect and I really liked talking to you.”

He folded his arms. You immediately felt small. Stupid. “Art, I’m sorry. Someone told me you were a player and I am not- I’m not about that. I don’t like people like that, not for myself. I let someone tell me that was who you were but they were confused and they were talking about Patrick! Tashi told me his ex… spreads rumours.” You breathed out heavily. “I’m so sorry, I really should have asked you about it or something. Or even asked the girls who told me. They were confused and they didn’t even know it. I was scared that you were some dick like the others but you’re not. And I’m sorry. And you’re letting me ramble and honestly it’s fine because I could just talk about how sorry I am forever.”

“She does spread rumours like that but Patrick… he couldn’t be me,” Art said. He said it with a straight face, but what he said was a little funny. I smiled. And I wanted him to smile too. “I liked talking to you too. I thought it was going really well, honestly.”

“I was just scared, I promise. I believed it. I believed it to keep myself safe and I’m baring my insecurities in the open right now with little to no filter- just- I didn’t get the feeling you were like that whatsoever, but I was told…”

He nodded, “I know. I’m sorry someone told you that, but it’s definitely not me.” He kept his arms folded. The ache manifested into your whole chest. You’d been such a dick. You hurt someone kind because of a rumour. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your face flushed hot. Scalding. You must have turned entirely pink. “I really- I just wanted to tell you I was sorry and why and what happened before you went inside. I am really sorry, Art. It was really a lovely night things aside. I am frankly mortified and upset I acted the way I did and I just… I wanted you to know how sorry I am.” You expressed, your hands gesturing all the important parts. He kept his lips straight. You felt judged. I guess that’s how he felt. “Look, I’m going to go. I really didn’t mean to make you feel like you did something wrong. It wasn’t you at all. I’m sorry I completely misjudged you. I’m going to go now, back to my… um… dorm.” Your flush burned your skin. “Thank you for listening.”

“You know you’d be saving me from Patrick if you stayed?” He said. His arms unfolded and his small smile was back. Very small. But there. You clutched your stomach and swallowed hard. Your heart still beat a mile a minute.

“Art-“

“It’s okay. People get mixed up between me and Patrick all the time. And although I didn’t like the no-reason-pay-and-leave, I still like you. I think you’re really sweet and pretty and you just ran across the residence lawn barefoot just to apologize with a million words because you felt that bad. I think that makes up for the judgment. Plus… it makes sense. I heard what Tashi told Patrick about what you’re looking for in a guy, it makes sense that you’d ditch.”

You breathed out hard. “She said she wouldn’t tell…”

“You’re sweet. And you were protecting your peace.” He said. He looked at his feet. “And I get it and I like you.”

“I like you too.” You huffed. “Can we-“

“Start from scratch?”

“Yeah,” you grinned. He smiled a crooked smile and the weight was partially lifted. You still felt awful, but less so. He understood.

He stuck his hand out to you and you shook it. His crooked smile was in full bloom. You blushed. “Art. Not Patrick.” He said.

“Y/n,” you replied. “Do you want to get out of here? This is me asking you out. Again.” You clarified. He laughed a little.

“Yeah I’d be honoured, but I pick the spot… again.” He agreed. You nodded. And nobody spoke for a moment, you just smiled. And his blue eyes weren’t so down-looking. “Do you need shoes?”

“Depends on where we’re going…” you said. “Thank you though. For understanding.”

“You’re too pretty for me to care about what some other girl said about someone else,” he said. “You don’t need shoes, come on.”

And you walked off together, starting up some new unrelated conversation. He took you to play tennis, he kicked your ass but you were also barefoot and in a dress. You ended up laughing hysterically and he was everything you wanted and more. And the events of a few hours ago faded out like nothing. It became a thing of the past and all you both knew now was badly swung tennis rackets and bare feet on the court, laughter, harmony. And it was nearly 2am when he walked you back to your dorm. He carried your shoes that you found by the sidewalk.

“That was fun,” you said outside your door. “Thank you again for forgiving me.”

“Thank you for running across residence to apologize,” he replied. You smiled. So did he. “Don’t let anyone mix me up again? I’m going to talk to someone about that…”

You laughed, “I’ll fix it for sure.”

“Thank you.” He put his hands in his pocket then immediately took them out. “I want to see you again.”

“I’d like that,” you answered. Your eyes met properly. “Very much.”

“Me too,” he said. “And you looked beautiful tonight. Even with your hair all messed up.” You’d been whining about it on the court. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Or I guess today.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said. His eyes fell downward. You could tell he stared at your lips. Despite all you stood for, tonight was enough to warrant it. You grinned in the silence and he matched it with his smirk-like smile. And it was mutual, the kiss. Both of you leaned in, meeting in the middle. Soft. Easy. Simple. And quick. Just his hand on your cheek, pushing your hair behind your ear before pulling away. “Goodnight.” You said. Your body felt warm.

He grinned, a little bit of a twinkle in his eye. “Goodnight.”

Rumours were just that- rumours. And they’d gone to die, at least for you and Art. You took off your makeup, got into your Panama’s, completely debriefing with Tashi as you did. She had been trying to get to the bottom of it since she got back, it turned out. There was going to be nothing in the way anymore, all pre-conceived notions thrown out the window.

You smiled as you fell asleep with the promise of being called tomorrow. Nothing else mattered.

[adventuringblind]

Stay With Me

Daniel Ricciardo x blind!Reader

Summary: Reader runs into Daniel at a race. He sticks around longer than she is expecting.

Warnings: Pretty major age gap

Notes: blindness is a spectrum!!! I'm basing this off my own vision. No perifreal for the win!

Masterlist

Twenty-one. She's twenty fucking one years old. How had she managed to get herself into this situation and being blind majority of her life? No idea.

To say she is panicking would be an understatment. She's terrified. No idea where she is. Can't find her friend. And she hates her cane so she didn't bring it cause the ground is flat around here.

They'd gotten separated for a few seconds. Yet she still managed to get turned around.

She keeps bumping into people who shout at her to watch it. Her heart is in her throat as she attempts to find the wall. She wants to sit and cry and never move again.

A hand on her shoulder makes her jump. She braces for the shove out of the way. But it never comes.

"Are you alright?" Says an Australian accented male.

"Just lost..." She trails. The idea of explaining that she's blind isn't what she wants to do right now. She doesn't look blind which has made people call her a liar and overdramatic. Something she's not sure she could handle right now.

She tries to rapidly scan what she can of the males face. From what she can gather, he's Daniel Ricciardo. Typical. At least he's nice. Maybe he won't notice her internal and external panic.

"Can I help you get where your going?"

"I'm looking for my friend, actually. Just got turned around." Her nervous laugh makes an appearance.

"Any chance you can call them?"

She face palms herself mentally. She would've done so already if she could find a wall of any kind that people didn't shove her off.

"I was going to - but I can't seem to find a wall. I know I don't look it but I'm blind." She grimaces at herself. Her mind preparing for the inevitable-

"That's kinda cool!" Not the response she was expecting. "Are you comfortable taking my arm?"

She hesitantly says yes, still waiting for him to just drop her off somewhere ridiculous. As a cruel joke or something.

She's seen Daniel race. He's not doing it currently, but he's still a major part of the sport. Her brain logically knows that he's not going to do anything. Yet the all-consuming fear of being told off is eating away at her.

Daniel guides her hand to his bicep. Exactly like how someone who is trained to lead someone visually impaired would do. It's the first thing she truly notices about him.

The second is how warm his skin is.

The walk for about a minute. Daniel pulls her hand off him and sets it gently against the cold metal of what she's assuming to be, is a wall.

"Sorry if I startled you earlier. You seemed panicked." He apologizes. It's sincere. She can hear it in his voice.

"I just thought you might be another person trying to shove me out of the way." She laughs nervously again. She hates that stupid laugh. "Can I ask where you learned to do human guide?"

"Had a friend who was blind as a teenager. I guess I just retained some of what I learned."

She may not be able to see his smile, but she can hear it. It puts her at ease. Then, she pulls her phone out of her pocket to text her friend and drop her location.

"You don't have to wait for me if you don't want to. I really appreciate your help."

"I don't mind, really! You seem interesting and I like interesting people."

She prays her blush isn't noticeable. She can feel the heat in her cheeks rising, but maybe he won't notice.

"Maybe we can continue this over dinner?"

In all her years, she'd never been asked out. And now she's being asked to dinner by Daniel Ricciardo.

"You should know first that I'm twenty-one."

"And?"

"As long as you don't care, then I'd love to go to dinner."

~

She'd assumed he'd be at some after party. But then again, it's only the second race of the season. Maybe they don't do after parties this early.

He'd picked her up from her hotel room. She went for a simple look since she didn't really have much else. A date was not on her agenda this weekend.

A date with Daniel fucking Ricciardo. It sounds straight out of a book. Or a romantic comedy of some sort.

The thing was, it wasn't comedic. Sure, Daniel made her laugh. But she never felt embarrassed.

He's caring and gentle. He told her weird jokes and funny stories. He listened to her when she said things.

Then he promised to call her.

Part of her is doubtful that he will reach out to her again. Yet that little hopeful voice in her brain says just maybe.

~

And that little voice was correct for once. Daniel messaged more than she expected.

He texted her daily and called her at night. He sent her pictures of anything and everything.

They just talked. For hours.

She really couldn't see why he would like her so much. It's not like she's the most interesting person. She's not rich. She feels very average aside from the lack of vision.

"I don't understand why you find me so interesting." She'd expressed over a phone call one night. "I feel rather boring compared to the girls you see most of the time."

"But those girls aren't you. You smile at the most mundane things that you find absolutely fascinating. You listen to me rant about life and never tell me to shut up. You give good advice and you're intelligent."

It sent butterflies into her stomach. A blush creeps over her cheeks, and she's glad he can't see her right now.

"But I feel like I can't compare. Like I'll never be able to live up to the expectations."

"Fuck 'em all, as I like to say. Stay with me and I'll show you ever reason I love you and why you should love yourself as much as I do."

And that's exactly what she did.

[cuntressgoingdigital]

RUNAWAY | abby anderson x reader

free palestine! click this link for more info

synopsis: you and abby are in a mutually destructive situationship. after everything you put each other through, you both always find you way back to one another.

notes: gonna be sooo honest, this isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea and that's okay! heed the content warnings. this is a super angsty catharsis piece.

cw: 18+ content MDNI, reader referred to as a girl, alcohol ment., top! abby, mutually toxic relationship, no happy ending, honestly neither of y'all are good people

word count: 1k

all you could do was sigh when you read the text that popped up on your phone. 

can i see you tn?

it was 2AM, you and your friends were on the way back home from the club. you had texted abby hours ago. you always did this after drinking. not because your judgment was impaired, instead you wanted to be able to blame your actions on the alcohol. you would’ve texted her completely sober. you often did. 

“what are you staring at on your phone?” your friend tried to snap you out of it, but nothing would stop you. your friends learned to stop trying.

the text interaction was instigated by you, around 8PM, after one sip of a cocktail your friend had made for you. 

fuck you abby

who is this new girl? 

what happened to all the shit you said last week?

she had posted a picture with some pretty redhead on her arm, her face buried in the crook of abby’s neck. she always did this. she knew it would make you mad.

and you always took the bait. 

now it was 3AM, your friends had left you for the night, and abby was knocking on your door. you had sobered up in the last hour or so. your mind was clear. all of your actions were your own. 

immediately abby leaned in for an embrace, prompting you to practically leap back. 

“who the fuck is she?” there was an undeniable venom in your voice. you didn’t have time for pleasantries. 

abby moved past you, crossing the threshold into your apartment. “she’s one of manny’s exes. we’re still cool so me and nora had dinner with her. that’s it.” 

cue the inevitable repetitive screaming match that you two would end up in once every few weeks. the walls were thin and you knew your neighbors could hear. luckily, they minded their business. 

“abby it’s like you don’t give a fuck about my feelings! all week you're texting me ‘i miss you’, ‘you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel this way’. what happened to that?”

you couldn’t ever stay mad at her. you used the same playbook she did. after a couple weeks of not talking, a post on social media would lure her back in. an “accidental”

i had so much fun with you last night <3

that was immediately unsent. it was a song and dance that both of you were perpetually stuck in. after this long, it felt like you couldn’t leave the dancefloor now. 

for the record, abby wasn’t lying. it was just dinner. nothing else. it was clear the girl wanted her. hugging her for just a moment too long, getting a little too handsy when they went to the club together, the frequent requests for one on one hangouts. 

abby wasn’t anywhere near interested. 

she didn’t want any of the girls she would entertain for a week, sometimes a month (never longer). she couldn’t fuck them without thinking of you. without missing you. one too many times when a girl was between her legs she had accidentally uttered your name. 

that’s why every argument resulted in the pure bliss of hate filled make up sex. whoever was on the receiving end of the accusations would placate the other with ‘they dont mean anything’, ‘i just miss you so fucking much’, ‘i wanna be with you’. 

that night when you’re face down in the mattress, back arched, her strap buried impossibly deep inside you, you forget everything. the reasons you hate her. why you would never work. she takes you by the chin and pulls you up, back flush against her chest, fucking up into you while she whispered in your ear.

“fuck, you look so good like that. my pretty girl.”

you would always be her’s.

“such a fucking slut. only running back to me when you need to be fucked back into your place, yeah?” she hoped that wasn’t true. she wants to hear you say that it isn’t true.

“i love you, abby.” was all you could manage to say between thrusts.

abby starts thrusting with a fervor. her hands were gripping your hips so tight you feared they might bruise. she knows your body so well that she can tell when you’re about to cum. you’d dig your nails into her arms, gasping for air, whimpering her name. 

“i love you too, baby girl.” 

that was all it took for the floodgates to open. 

neither of you had lied. you both loved each other more than anything in the world. you said it during arguments, over dinner, at the end of a phone call, and most often during sex. 

if it came down to it, you would die for one another. 

the orgasm was so intense it brought tears to your eyes. abby could fuck you for hours, and she often did, especially when you were mad at her. tonight was one of those nights. by the time the sun had fully risen in the sky you were both sweaty, sore, and exhausted. 

you spent the next few weeks together. she had a key to your apartment that you hadn’t taken back after any of your fallouts. after work, you would find her at home, making your favorites for dinner. she came and went as she pleased, but you knew she’d be back. such was the nature of your relationship. 

when it’s good, it’s amazing. when it’s bad, it’s miserable. the good never lasted long. your record best was a little more than two months. then, one of you would get antsy, terrified of the ‘what are we?’ conversation. 

after being away from each other, the monotony of peace set in. one of you would find a way to snake back in. 

you were mutually destroying each other. you knew that. abby knew that. a happy ending wasn’t likely for either of you. 

but, that was okay. 

she was familiar. this was easier. you had to leave or live with it. 

and here you were, laying in her arms, pressing kisses against her chest and collarbones, while she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. 

[describe-things]

Image description start. Two images.

The first is a digital painting of Mickey Mouse as a ghost, with 11 out of 365 listed in the upper corner. This background is green, with a lighter green border. Mickey is drawn as a blue ghost with simple red eyes, wearing darker blue overalls, and white shoes. He has notches in each ear, and a long tail. He sits with one leg folded on the ground and the other bent in front of him, looking over to pet a small formless sheet ghost with a small smile.

The second image is a simple license reading *

"public domain", with a circle with a zero inside.

Image description end.]

Ghost Mickey

011/365 #hunt the mouse

booooo!!!

I am making 365 new versions of Mickey Mouse for the public domain and releasing them under public domain all year long.

You can join the initiative to #hunt the mouse or suggest a theme yourself via my ask box.

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this for a lovely anon, I hope you like it!

It is a Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace x deaf!female!reader imagine.

Thank you @footprintsinthesxnd for proofreading!

Warnings: reader has a hearing impairment

You were going out for groceries with Nat to prepare dinner to meet her friends for the first time when you realized that you were standing in the same aisle in which you had first met her, the love of your life, all these months ago.

You had just put the glass of jam into your cart when you saw a gorgeous woman approach you, with a wide smile and her eyes trained on you as she began to speak.

Her smile was entirely infectious and you couldn’t help but smile back, but your face soon turned apologetic as you tried to focus on the movement of her lips to keep up with what she was saying.

You chuckled gently, your eyes focusing back on hers when she finished speaking.

The way the woman was looking at you as well as her beautiful combination of light skin and dark hair took your breath away, and it took you a moment before you could react.

You raised your hand to your ear and gently shook your head with an apologetic smile on your lips, trying to show her that you couldn’t communicate with her the way she wanted you to.

Nat’s reaction had only taken a second as she had thought about it before pulling out her phone and quickly typing away at it.

She turned her phone so you could look at it and read what she had written in the notes app, the heat rushing into your cheeks as your eyes met hers again.

‘I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, I just needed you to know that’ were the words beaming at you from her phone screen, and you felt similarly glowing as well.

You had been taken aback, the heat in your cheeks only ever intensifying as your heart rate quickened.

You didn’t quite know what to do but Natasha turned her phone back to herself to type, a hopeful smile playing around the corners of her lips.

When she turned the phone again the screen read ‘can I get your number?’, and you had gladly given it to her.

She had texted you immediately and you had a conversation over text messages while standing in front of each other, taking in the other’s reaction.

Now a few months had gone by, and you had developed a relationship that you and Natasha lived for.

Natasha had learned to communicate with you through simple touches, glances, and of course ASL, which she had picked up rather quickly, and you were grateful for her.

It wasn’t that you were grateful that she did any of these things, it was important and expected of a partner after all, but you were incredibly happy you had found Natasha.

She was kind, caring, funny and a force to be reckoned with, she was headstrong, breathtaking, beautiful, and didn’t let anyone tell her what to do.

You were always so happy whenever you were with her and you moved in together so you could see each other as often as possible.

You were so proud of Nat for what she did and who she was and she was just as proud of you, you could see it in the way she looked at you when others were around.

Nat had asked you whether you wanted to meet her fellow aviators and you had agreed happily, seeing as they had asked to meet you after hearing about you and seeing how happy and at ease you made Nat.

It was obvious she loved you in the way she even just glanced at you, her eyes losing the hardness and fierceness to be replaced with a softness and adoration that was unmatched.

Nat had only ever told them nice things about you and when her friends saw you so tentative and curled into your girlfriend’s side they understood why.

You seemed sweet and shy and just about the perfect person for Nat, someone she could be vulnerable with for once in her life.

Bradley, Jake, Bob, Javy, Mickey, and Reuben all greeted Nat before they turned to you, with Bradley hugging you and everyone else following his example.

It was a heartfelt gesture and you immediately felt at ease, feeling accepted and welcome in their presence.

It was strange for you to come into a circle of like-minded people who did something you couldn’t even fathom for a job, but every one of them was as kind as could be to you.

The conversation started slowly and was rather awkward at first, with everyone standing around the living room with drinks in their hands, but surprisingly Bob was the one who broke the ice.

You were just about to escape back into the kitchen to check on the food that was still in the oven when Bob addressed you, his eyes catching yours and a timid smile appearing on his face, which you mirrored.

“So, how did you two meet?” You read from his lips and were reaffirmed with Nat signing the words to you, and you were glad Bob had asked you instead of Nat, even though he had probably heard it from her already.

You were quick to sign back at her, a wide smile on your lips as you saw the way she reacted to your response.

Nat blushed and smiled and her eyes were only trained on you, her love and focus on you as well.

“She says ‘I was at the supermarket and didn’t know that I was looking for her all my life. But when she tapped my shoulder and told me that she thought I was beautiful I knew that Nat was the one I had been waiting on’”, she translated and you smiled at her, happy to have her and very proud of how quickly she had learned to read sign language.

‘I didn’t tell you you were beautiful, I said you are the most beautiful woman I ever met. And I stand by that statement’, she signed back at you, and you had to laugh at how determined she was to get that point across.

When you laughed Nat looked at you as if the world revolved around you, and you leaned in to kiss her lips tentatively once you had finished laughing.

The others just watched your small exchange with compassionate smiles, seeing and also to an extent feeling the love you shared in their chests as well.

You led some more of those small conversations before the timer on your phone buzzed, signaling that the food was ready.

Nat sat next to you at the dinner table, always trying to sign as much as she could to you.

It was an evening filled with stories and laughter, Nat translated what her friends said and sometimes signed funny comments of well-meant jokes about her friends to you, and you signed back with just as much happy enthusiasm.

From then on Nat took you with her wherever she went, to the Hard Deck, to meet friends at their place, or to Navy events, where she was adamant to get an interpreter for the speeches.

You were always beside her with a smile that was fueled by her love and devotion to you, which you of course gave right back to her.

tagging: @starkleila @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @harper1666 @malindacath @aerangi @kassieesworld @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @simping4wanda @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @simping4wanda @bonitanightmxres @ratcatcher2world @glowingtree @wingmanvenus @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

[deramin2]

Please make sure you know how to use speech to text on your phone and what app you're going to use in case you suddenly lose your hearing and have to communicate to a doctor about it.

And make sure your aging parents (or other friends and family) know this. This is not something you want to be figuring out while you or they are sick and or disoriented. And you definitely don't want to be trying to do tech support over text while someone's in the hospital and if you can't this very soon they'll get inadequate or slow care.

It's possible to write on paper or a white board but my experience is it's much slower and people use confusing shorthand to speed it up.

I really encourage people to experiment with and learn all the adaptive technology in your pocket even at a basic level because really big disability impairments—temporary or permanent—can happen way faster then you imagine and it's much scarier and more frustrating if you don't know what to do to compensate.

There is so much adaptive technology already in your pocket that was science fiction even 20 years ago, or wildly expensive and harder to set up. What we have today is truely incredible for aiding disabled people.

Learn when it's easier, less stressful, you can take it in more slowly, and get used to it off and on. Not while you're having an emergency. And itt will also teach you how you can take small daily actions to ensure access for disabled people (like writing alt text and captions and video transcripts).

[describe-things]

[ID: A digital painting of a gazelle with a keffiyeh, and a goat holding a Palestinian flag looking at eachother and crying, with the sun behind them in the shape of a map of PAlestine, with rays steaking off to the sides, and birds flying. Behind them are bushes and olive trees, with the words, "Free Palestine" and "Ceasefire Now.". End ID.]

I suck with words, and what's happening in Palestine is beyond insane.

Don't stop talking about Palestine! Beyond the strike, boycott! keep sharing information! Donate wisely!

[hearworldusa]

Shop for Alarm Clocks and Bed Shakers for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing with the best selection of alarm clocks online ! Count on us for the best deal for high quality alarm clocks for the deaf and hard of hearing to wake you up. Our wide range of alarm clocks will definitely make you feel confident about going to sleep at night and waking up on time. For more information and expert advice, call us at 1-866-889-4872.

[violentlyexplosive]

man, trying to find good fan-written work featuring a blind/visually impaired character (or reader) is like wading through waterfalls of literal shit. like I hate being mean about this kinda stuff, I understand not everyone on the planet knows what it's like to not be able to see properly, but for the love of GOD, GOOGLE IT. OR ASK SOMEONE. OR JUST DON'T WRITE ABOUT SOMETHING YOU KNOW LESS THAN NOTHING ABOUT.

if you're hell bent on writing a visually impaired or blind person, here are some quick pointers so you don't come across as an ableist prick:

99% of us don't hate being blind. some of us were born this way. others have had plenty of time to come to terms with whatever happened to us. for a whole lot of us, it is simply a fact of life, and not something we even really think a lot about on a day to day basis. I am sure there are tons of low vision people out there that do hate it, but it is an incredibly individualised and nuanced experience. please for the love of all literary goodness, don't do the whole "oh woe is me, I'm blind, however will I go on!!!" thing. it's tired, overdone, and frankly a little insensitive.

WE DON'T JUST SEE DARKNESS. WE DON'T SEE BLACK. WE DO NOT SEE. for some people, like myself, we have significant vision loss, but can still see clearly enough to move through life without much difficulty. for others, they might have large blind spots, and small sections of vision to rely on. only a very small percentage of us have absolutely 0 vision, and in those cases, it isn't "darkness" or "pitch black" that one sees- it is nothing. I know it can be hard to wrap your head around, but a common example used is: bend your arm and point your elbow forward. what does your elbow see? nothing, right? not blackness, not darkness- just the absence of sight. that is what total blindness looks like.

ok, so I'm aware this one people are getting better about, but it bears repeating: blind people do not touch faces to "see" them. why the fuck would we do that. I'm sure with close family members, romantic partners, or even friends, it may be something one does just for the fuck of it, or to make note of a specific feature (i.e. hair texture, nose shape, scars, etc,) but nobody is out here using their fingers to map out people's faces just on the reg. do you have any idea how awkward that would be. I don't know where your face has been, and I'd frankly rather just imagine the specifics of your features and admire your blurry visage WITHOUT my fingies, thank you very much.

OUR OTHER SENSES ARE NOT MAGICALLY ENHANCED. we're not superheroes, we're disabled. sure, over time, we might come to rely on our other senses more, and hone them better, but we're not fucking Daredevil. I can't hear the buzzing of my lightbulbs because I'm legally blind and super cool (unfortunately,) I hear them because I'm fucking autistic.

a good chunk of us don't know how to read braille. an unfortunate side effect of having text to speech functions on phone cameras is the loss of this skill. if i can't read something, I ask someone else to read it for me, or I take a picture and zoom in. braille differs from country to country, language to language, etc etc. even if I learned Irish braille (written as Gaeilge, by the way, so not even in English!) I would not be able to read braille in my native language of Swedish. and beyond drugstore products, it typically isn't used much. I've rarely, if ever, found braille menus, instruction manuals, books, etc. and with modern technology, learning and knowing braille is falling increasingly out of style.

not all blind eyes look milky/all white. my fully blind eye is constantly closed, but my functioning, legally blind eye is perfectly normal in appearance. in fact, you've probably met one or two people in your life who would qualify as legally blind/low vision who function and, through all outward appearances, are no different from you.

we are not weak little babies that need protecting. I'd argue that visually impaired people can probably get around better than some fully sighted people, purely because we're forced to be more aware of our surroundings. not to mention some of us have guide dogs or friends/family/what-have-you to help us manoeuvre when necessary. just because we can't see well doesn't mean we're damsels in distress incapable of wiping our own asses. we're people with personalities and skill sets and life experiences, not infants.

ok so I'm sure this has come across as aggressive and/or rude, but yknow what? I don't particularly care anymore. I have seen far too many ignorant and uneducated people try to write or otherwise portray blind/visually impaired characters using guesswork and stereotypes from television, and I've just hit a wall in terms of being able to disregard it and not care. I do care. a whole lot, apparently. I'm tired of seeing random people on the internet deciding they'll write a low vision character and butchering it so terribly it makes me physically cringe. if you have to write a character with a visual disability, I implore you to read a fucking book, google it for 15 minutes, hell, make a reddit post or something to ask actual visually disabled people about their experiences so you're not making a fool of yourself, talking out of your ass and insulting an entire category of human beings. it is that easy.

[describe-things]

[Image description start. A version of the yes/no meme format, with a cartoon character first lifting a hand in disgust, then pointing happily.

The no section reads, the system is broken and must be fixed.

The yes section reads the system is working exactly as intended and must be destroyed.

Image description end.]

[abbeyk111]

Natural Readers

Natural Readers is a website that uses AI to turn text into spoken speech. It is available as a website, Chrome extension, and Mobile App. It also has both free and paid versions, but the free version allows the user unlimited use of the "free voices" on the site. On the website, the user picks one of the voices—which they are able to listen to each one before they make their selection—and then just copies and pastes a chunk of text into the box. The selected voice then reads the entire text out to the user. If the user has the Chrome extension, the bot can read directly from a Google Doc, online books, and email. If the user has the mobile app downloaded on their phone, they can take a picture of the page they want read aloud, whether from a book or notebook, and the bot will do it.

I can see how this software can be useful in many ways. Firstly, if there is a word or name in a piece of text that a person is unsure how to pronounce, in theory, they should be able to enter it into the box and have the bot say it back to them. It can also work to make things more accessible to those who have vision impairments, as they can take photos of text and have it recited to them rather than struggling to read them. I can also see how it can be helpful to people who prefer listening to Audiobooks since they can enter Online books and texts directly into the site and have them read aloud. It can also be useful in terms of literary criticism and analysis because tone is very important when it comes to what the author is trying to express, and in being able to enter the text and hear it back to you, you may be able to better hear the tone of the author/story.

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 55 - Flirting With Disaster

Summary: Lee drives down a dark road. Jo searches for him. A nasty phone call triggers her anxiety. Craig is a hero, but Orlando is not impressed. A warning is given. Lee and Gordon scuffle once more. Donna puts her foot down.

*Chapter Warnings* Alcohol use, drinking and driving, language, angst, anxiety, mentions of drugs, physical altercation

Chapter characters: Lee, Josie, Emily, Craig, Orlando, Gordon, Donna

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

Salem, Massachusetts

March 22, 2022

It was now dark and Lee had been driving for hours, swaying back and forth in his Dodge Dart with the windows down and the music blaring, trying to wash it all away just like you said, but his version of that was sipping on his second pint of Fireball. He was now at the impaired level to where he didn't care if he wrapped his car around a tree, but he chuckled when he thought of how it would be much more ironic if he crashed into an oncoming train.

As he changed the radio station, he found himself screaming with vein popping rage at the top of his lungs when the song came on that he had texted lyrics to you of earlier that day.

I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you. Take me back to the night we met.

Simultaneously, you had been doing the same thing, minus the booze but listening to the same radio station as you drove around, crying your eyes out to that song and looking for Lee after he had just left you standing in the cemetery at his father's grave. You had called him over and over but he had shut his phone off. You left repeated voicemails and went to every known place you could think of that he might be, but he wasn't there or anywhere. Lee was just gone boy gone.

Was it all worth it? Dragging the truth of his past out of him, especially on that day of all days? His father's one month of passing. None of that day was supposed to go the way it went and it suddenly went from bad to worse.

Your phone rang as you pulled up to your apartment, but it wasn't Lee. It was Emily, your good friend from Ireland who had extended her stay in Salem when Jason supposably died to be there for you, but in all of the chaos, you had forgotten all about her.

"Em?? Hey." you softly sniffled. "What's up?"

"I guess I could ask you the same thing." she scoffed in her subtle Irish accent. "Where have you been and why have you not told me about Megan?? I just found out from your mom who I called to find out where you were at."

"Oh Em, I am so sorry. So much has been happening and it's all just a mess."

"Right. Well...are you ever coming back to the ice skating lessons for the kids? I've been covering for you and I need a break. I want to go out with someone on the 25th to a party and I'd like to take that entire day to go shopping and stuff. Can you at least do it that day?"

The 25th...that was Lee's upcoming birthday which you had forgotten about too and now you felt like even more shit, if that were even possible. Of course, you and he were supposed to spend it together, but now, all you could hear was his cold voice reiterate through your mind...fuck forever.

"Hello? Josie...can you?"

"Oh...sorry, I umm, I can't Em. I just have so much going on."

"Yeah, I noticed. Well, I can't do it. I'm not missing out on my plans."

"Ok, well. Just cancel the class. There's plenty of time. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? What is wrong with you anymore? You love that class and the kids. It's like no one exists now except your precious Lee."

"Hey, don't do that. Don't talk about him like that."

"Whatever."

"Em I said I'm sorry."

"Of course. And that makes it all ok. I stayed here for you ya know? And I've seen you not even a handful of times in 2 months. Twice to be exact."

"I know and I swear, I'll make it up to you soon, just not right now. So umm...who's the mystery man you're going to this party with?"

"Oh so now you're interested in my life? Well, if you must know, it's Johnny."

"What? Are you mad?? Jesus Em. You KNOW who he is."

"Oh stop it. You're not my mother. I'm a grown ass woman and can do as I please. In fact, I've been seeing him awhile now, ever since he came to the ice arena that day."

"Well that's just great, so you're into drug pushing mob men now."

"Don't be a hypocritical bitch. You had your fun with him before too and let's not forget who Jason was and from what I've heard, your landlord is one too who you're quite cozy with."

"Wowww. They don't do or sell drugs Em! So now you're letting Johnny fucking Zacchara fill your head with bullshit about me I see. You've never acted like this. He's bad news and you know it and clearly, he's rubbing off on you."

"Get over yourself already. Jealous much?"

"WHAT?? Jealous of Johnny??? Em grow the fuck up. You KNOW I don't want him. If anyone's jealous, it's you because he still wants me and you know it and he's using you to stay in my orbit."

"Oh, that's right. I'm not good enough compared to you. Johnny could never truly like me for me right??"

"God, you sound just like Megan."

"Well clearly Megan had a point! Everybody wants Jo! Well you know what. I DON'T. Fuck off!" she shouted and hung up.

"Ahhhhhhh!!!!" you screeched as you squeezed your phone with two hands, picturing yourself strangling her.

As you made your way up the stairs of the complex, it slithered up on you like a python in the everglades, wrapping around your chest and throat and relentlessly constricting as it pulled you straight to the ground to devour you whole. Shaking, gasping, clutching your chest, you crawled towards Craig's door where his music could be heard thumping about. He was never going to hear you. You had no voice. Even if you made it to his apartment, you didn't have the strength to bang on the door or reach for the handle that you knew was locked. You frantically dumped your purse out and grabbed your phone but in your frenzy for air, you couldn't turn it on. You must have literally squeezed the life out of it like your anxiety was doing to you at that moment. It was time to focus and fight. Your ears concentrated on the muffled music, your hands focused on the feel of the carpet beneath you, your tongue could taste your chap stick but your nose, it was useless to search for smell. Your eyes then caught sight of the fire alarm that happened to be just above you. Reaching, stretching, grasping and clawing at the brick wall, your fingertips were merely inches below it. Time was running out. Everything was about to go black. In your desperation, you found one last boost of adrenaline to lunge upwards and pull the lever. Ear piercing decibels sounded through the halls and blinding overhead lights kicked on as you slid down the wall, and then...there was darkness.

"Jo! Jo, come on sweetheart, wake up!" a desperate voice echoed in a gargle, sounding as if it were underwater.

"Miss March, can you hear me? Open your eyes for me." another voice, unfamiliar, stern but calm and more clear triggered the flickering of your lids.

"That a girl, there you are." the voice continued and now you could make out a face.

It was an EMT. As you gasped and darted your eyes all around, you then realized you were in the back of an ambulance. You swiftly sat up, knocking the oxygen mask from your face to see the very frightened face of Craig gaping in at you from outside the open back doors. Behind him was your car and a firetruck there, red lights swirling about. You were still at the complex.

"C..Craig??" you fearfully stammered and began to sob.

The EMT quickly jumped back before he knocked senseless by Craig's catapulting entrance. As soon as he reached you, he pulled you right onto his arms, clutching you tighter than the snake attack had done.

"Jesus Jo. You...you weren't breathing. You scared me to death. Don't cry. Don't cry. I've got you." Craig huffed into your ear.

"What...what happened??" you squeaked through his beastly bear hug.

He leaned back and cradled your face in both hands, his baby blues glassy and wet as he began to ramble. "I...I heard the alarm and ran out to find you unconscious in the hall. I had to give you cpr Jo and then finally, you gasped the most beautiful, sweet breathtaking breath I had ever heard besides Blaise's when she was born, but you were still out of it and then the EMS got here and I informed them of what I knew, about your anxiety and all and..."

"Oh my god...I...I remember now...I...it just hit me and I...I couldn't get to you...I pulled the alarm..."

Craig stroked your cheek and became the most open and vulnerable that you had ever seen him. "Thank the mighty lord above that you did or you'd be...Jo...I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you."

"You...you saved me? Craig...I...I don't know what to say."

"You can call him a hero Ma'am." the EMT intruded. "His quick thinking and actions kept you alive until we could treat you. With that said, we really should take you to the hospital now."

Panic crept up on you again and you began to ramble and beg. "N...NO. I am fine. I feel fine. I'm used to these attacks and I have meds for it...and my mom...she don't need this. No Craig...no, tell him I'm fine and that you'll be with me...right?? You'll stay with me...won't you?? Please don't make me go...PLEASE!"

"Jo I...I can't make you do anything and I won't...but...I'm worried about you. I know you know your body and all, but I also know you do not take your meds..."

"Craig...I swear to you....I am alright. I would never lie to you....not again."

"Not even to save your ass from going to the hospital?" he softly grinned as he stroked your hair. "And to be clear, you never lied to me. At least I don't see it that way."

"No...I won't lie even for that. I just don't want to go when I know I'm alright now thanks to you....and I don't want to face Orlando or Dave right now either. Can we please just go inside."

"I'll tell you what. Let's compromise. Please, for me, go to the hospital just to get checked out and then if all is good, I promise, I will bring you right back here. You'll be in the ER so I doubt your mom will see you and if you see your doctor friends, then you can ask them not to tell her. I will stay right by your side Jo. Please, it will make my heavy heart feel so much better."

His damn smile had some way with you. "Fine. I'll go but not in the ambulance. You have to take me."

"Deal."

You were quiet the entire car ride, staring out into the darkness while feeling Craig's eyes glancing upon you from time to time, but he also remained quiet. Knowing the man you had come to know, you knew he was trying to be respectful and let you rest. When you were ready to talk to him about things, you would. You knew though that you would be talking soon enough...to Orlando because he was the general physician of the ER and sure enough, his car was there when you arrived and he was at the nurses station when you walked in.

Orlando's eyes widened with fright and he sped right to you, offering a hand of support under you elbow and frowning as he gazed at your forehead.

"Josie? What happened?? You're limping and you have what looks like rug burn on your head."

"I...do? I guess I should have looked in the mirror. It's no big deal Landy. I just had a..."

Orlando's chocolate eyes became black as licorice as they darted over to Craig with a death glare. "What did you do to her!" he snarled and inserted himself between you and the man he knew was a mobster.

"Whoaaa down Fido." Craig commanded in a most calm and collected manner. It was not easy to intimidate him from all that you had seen.

"Landy, no. He didn't do anything to me. If anything, he saved my life."

"What??" Orlando gasped as his concerned eyes bolted back to you.

"I...I had a panic attack. A bad one and I passed out. I must have hit my knee when I fell and my head too. Craig found me and he helped me. I wasn't breathing, so....that's why I'm here. He really wanted me to come be checked out."

Feeling rather foolish, the good doctor apologized, but you still saw it in his eyes that he did not trust Craig, nor like him at all. "My apologies. I shouldn't have made presumptions. Thank you for what you did."

Craig's simple reply carried a hint of cockiness in his tone that you immediately recognized. He had been offended and you hoped he would let it go, but... there was also the fact Landy was Ethan's brother and you knew that didn't sit well with Craig either, even if Orlando was nothing like Ethan. "No worries Dr. Bloom."

"Alright, let's get you in a cubicle. Looks like I'll be your doctor again." Landy grinned and led you away.

"Wait!" you snapped and halted to look at Craig. "He comes too. I want him there."

The two men locked eyes. Craig's were smug and satisfied. Landy's were perplexed and wary.

Orlando was stern in his stance as a physician and as your friend. "He may come in AFTER we get you situated and assessed."

Your eyes saddened as you moved them to Craig's. "It's alright sweetheart. I'll be right outside this door." He assured and then his eyes went straight back to Orlando's with warning. "I'm not going anywhere."

Landy angrily whipped the curtain shut behind the two of you. "Sweetheart??" he groaned. "I do not like that guy. Since when are you so friendly with him??"

"Landy. Let's not talk about Craig right now...or ever for that matter. He cares about me, that's all and don't forget, I'm breathing because of him. Now...I need you to PLEASE not tell my mom about this..or Dave or...well, it don't matter."

"Lee? Did you ever find him after you called me earlier?"

"No and we're not talking about him either got it?? Can we just get this over with and this day already??" you snapped as you sat down on the bed.

Orlando half smiled and his eyes fell after your harshness towards him.

"Shit. Damn it Landy...I am so sorry." you reeled and took his hand. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just so exhausted, physically AND mentally."

His fingers caressed over yours as the smitten doc tried to hide how good it felt to touch you. "It's alright. I know you're stressed and how scary panic attacks are. They take a lot out of you. And my lips are sealed. I can't talk about my patients anyways remember? Let me check all your vitals, do some routine blood work and then since you did fall and have a wound on your head, I'd like to send you down for a CT to rule out a concussion and get an x-ray on that knee as well."

"Ughhhhh....ok." you moaned.

Landy did all his preliminary testing, then gave you a gown to put on and left and sure enough, Craig was standing right there when he walked out.

Orlando stopped with a hard sigh and slammed his pen down on his clipboard. "Stay put. She's dressing." he scoffed and walked away.

Craig arrogantly followed. "You know." he softly whispered near Orlando's ear as he came up behind him while he was writing. "I don't like you much either."

Orlando swayed around with a glare. "You were eavesdropping??"

Craig chuckled. "Curtains are paper thin, practically useless for sound barrier. I'm pretty sure you knew that when you decided to complain about me to Jo, whom...by the way," he raved. "She shut you down real quick didn't she? You see, it's really simple Doc. She cares for me and I care for her. Get over it."

"I'm sure her boyfriend won't...get over it. Did you forget about him while you're staking some wolfy claim on her?"

"No. But it seems he's forgotten about her. I'm pretty certain that he is one of or possibly even the main reason she had that attack tonight. From the things she's confided in me, I would bet my life on it." Craig then looked around with gloating eyes. "Where is the good Dr. Pace anyways??"

"Don't you have a daughter to look for or something?" Orlando irrationally retorted with instant regret.

Craig stepped forward, leaving only a foot's length between the two 5'11 men as his eyes and tone hardened. "You definitely have that Bloom blood and mouth don't you? I'd watch what you say to me, especially about my daughter. Ethan didn't watch what he said to me and he didn't enjoy the consequences of that. I will find that little bastard, mark my words and I will get my daughter back and that ball-less brother of yours will meet his judgment day right here on earth just as others have for messing with me and those I love. Even that cop brother of yours walks a thin line with me. Those who like flirting with disaster get eaten by the so called wolves you speak of, or in my world as they put it, go swimming with the fishes. Have I made myself clear Landy?"

"Crystal." he snapped and daringly pushed past Craig's shoulder to go back to you.

"Knock knock" he called out in a pretend pleasant voice before opening the curtain.

"I'm good Landy."

Orlando brought in a wheelchair. "Hop in."

You giggled. "I'm so doped up right now on what you gave me that I can barely move."

"Here. I'll help."

After he wheeled you out, Craig came right to you and dropped to his knees to hold your hand.

You smiled and took his hand as your words slightly slurred. "They gave me drugs."

"I can tell." he chuckled. " So you're feeling ok then? No pain?"

"Oh I am feeling just fine." you giggled. "You're so sweet Craigy. I'm glad you're here with me. You make me feel better."

Craig squeezed your hand and smiled, giving a swift, smug glance up at Orlando. "I'll tell you a little secret. You make me feel better too Jo."

"Well it's not a secret anymore silly. Landy's standing right here. Oh gosh, I just love your smile Craig. It's so pearly white."

He released a hearty laugh. "Just how much drugs did they give you?"

"It's time to go Josie." Orlando interrupted.

"Ok but...Craigy...will you follow us down and wait for me?"

"Anything for you.... sweetheart."

Orlando rolled his eyes and wheeled you off with Craig on his heels. Once you were all done, you were taken back to your room to wait on the results and to rest and during that time, Craig stayed at your side and listened to you blabber about your burdens under the influence of your meds.

Finally, you were cleared. No concussion, no concerning damage to your knee, just bruised, and BP and oxygen normal so you were sent on your way. By the time Craig got you back to the complex, you were out for the count with your head on his shoulder. Unable to wake you, he carried you up to your apartment and placed you in your bed, covering you up, then he opened a bottle of your wine and sat on the couch drinking until he too fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Lee had miraculously made his way in one piece to Gordon's house in Boston, but he was definitely broken inside. Once he forced entry into the garage, he began trashing all the contents of a storage unit in search of something important to him.

"Come on... Where is it??!!" he growled as he threw boxes and knocked over shelves.

Gordon was still up and heard all the commotion and when he got to the garage, he found his brother panting in a confused state as he sat on a toppled box.

"Lee! What are you doing???"

"Where is it?" Lee softly snarled through his exhausted pants.

"Where is what?? Why did you trash my things??? and...how the fuck did you get in here??? Are you drunk???? You drove here this way???"

"Spare me the bogus brotherly concern. Where...are...my...drugs??!!" Lee fiercely chanted.

"You're kidding right?? We, meaning you AND me, used that stash years ago. Jesus Lee, how much have you had to drink or...are you high??"

"I certainly wish I was! That was the point of coming here!"

"Well you waisted a trip. You know I don't keep that shit around with Donna here."

"Oh come on Gordo! You probably snort that shit from her ass crack while she's sucking it off your cock."

Gordon's eyes widened and then he raised his brow. "Yeah, I...I've probably done that a time or two...so??!!"

"Come on man...you can't tell me you don't have anything at all...somewhere!! A little white lightning...that's all I need."

"Well...even if I did, I certainly wouldn't give it to you!"

"Why?? Because I'm drunk??"

"Nooo? Because you're a dick!!"

Lee chuckled sarcastically. "Oh, I'M a dick?? Who's the one trying to take MY farm from me??? and who's the one who didn't show up today at dad's grave???"

"DAD'S FARM! and we're both his sons!! You got him to sign it over to you under false pretenses and you'll never convince me otherwise. He wasn't in his right mind! And...and...who says I had to go to dad's grave with YOU??? I can go by myself!!"

"We're both his sons, you got that right, but YOU are NOT my brother!! You never had one ounce of interest in that farm. You HATED it there!! Look at you...you're a big city guy!! You only want it to spite me because dad left it to me...legitimately!! He didn't want you to have it!!!"

"Whatever. I'm not doing this with you. You're fucking wasted. Look, I don't know what's going on with you, but you're clearly on some downward spiral and I'm not contributing to it. Give me your keys. You can go sleep it off on the couch and then get the fuck out tomorrow."

"Fuck you. I'm leaving."

Lee pushed past him and Gordon grabbed his arm. "No, you're not! Give...me...your...keys or I'm calling the cops and telling them you're drunk and driving!!"

Lee jerked his arm away and shoved Gordon against the wall. "I will rearrange your fugly ass face if you so much as touch your phone."

"Fine...but you're not driving."

Gordon gloated as he held up Lee's keys he had taken out of his jacket and dangled them from his fingers, then ran like hell up the stairs to the house with Lee stumbling up the steps behind him.

"Give them back!!"

"NO!" Gordon yelled as Lee chased him around the kitchen table. "Call a cab if you want to leave!!"

Lee hopped on the table and crawled over it, then dragged Gordon to the ground and pinned him down, aggressively twisting his nipples.

"STOPPP IT MAN!!!"

"If you want me to stop..." he huffed through pursed lips, "then just give me the keys!"

"Get off of him!! ALL I gotta do is dial three numbers Lee!!" Donna shouted from behind, holding her cell in hand.

Lee stood up, defeated but kept a smug expression as he glared at her. "Well if it ain't ass crack Donna."

"Get out of here Lee. Now." she barked, ready to dial 911.

"Fine...fine...fine. Have it your way." he snidely complied, then looked at Gordon who still laid upon the floor, terrified. "Your dope probably smells like shit anyways. I'll be back for my keys tomorrow."

Lee took out his phone and called a cab as he staggered his way out the door. When he reached his car, he leaned upon it and lost his footing. Sliding down hard on his ass, he stayed there and sobbed with his head in his hands until the taxi arrived and took him home.

@redeemer46

[copper-rook]

RULES POST

triggers/discomforts

-> i mainly tag more common triggers! you can always request me to tag something for you as well.

-> tags will be formatted as "tw content" and "content tw" without quotes. for instance, tw blood and blood tw.

-> i will not write smut on this blog or any other blog. occasional suggestive content may occur, but is unlikely.

-> if you'd like to not see personal posts, you can block my personal tag which is "short little span of attention // mun post" without the quotes. however, this will also block updates until/unless i make an update tag.

-> common triggers that this blog is going to contain are injury, war, violence, and trauma. again, please be advised that you're welcome to block the tags!

-> i try to keep my blog as drama free as possible. i don't partake in callouts or anything like that.

interactions

-> i really don't care who follows me, but please note i only follow rp-related blogs from my rp blog! my own personal may follow you back if we become friends, though.

-> the exceptions to the above are blogs that make me uncomfortable or are otherwise inaccessible to me. porn, gore, bot, etc. blogs need not interact, for instance.

-> i don't engage with people who are cool with shipping minors with adults, siblings, or anything like that.

-> for full disclosure, i'm 21. i do not have an age limit for roleplaying with me, but some people do and that's perfectly okay!

-> while i don't practice strict reblog karma, i'd appreciate this blog not being used as a source for memes/asks/etc.! it's better to reblog things from their source when possible, or send me a little something first if it's not too much trouble.

-> while i do read rules, i sometimes have problems locating passwords if you have one! i try my best, but due to a visual impairment they may get missed.

-> for the same reason i may miss passwords, i don't include one in my own rules. it'll be pretty obvious to me if you've not read them.

-> unless i have reblogs turned off for a post, you can assume it's safe to reblog.

roleplaying

-> while this blog is dedicated to breda, my hub blog ( @words-by-theo ) is a multimuse blog!

-> i am non-private and semi-selective. that means i'll roleplay with non-mutuals, but not literally everybody. i have the right to deny a roleplay if i don't like it.

-> please do not use legacy editor to reply to me. it leaves me unable to trim reblogs, as i use beta editor and xkit rewritten.

-> i love ocs. i love crossovers. gimme

-> that said, please make sure your oc is developed and fits within whatever we're doing! i'd prefer if you had a bio posted for them, and i don't like pre-established relationships unless we discuss it ooc first.

-> i don't do exclusives. i love every unique take on other characters! the more, the merrier.

-> i personally default to using small text and the occasional icon, but can adjust if you'd like! for me, i will not write with people who use non-default/fancy fonts. even if my phone displays some, my screenreader will never pick up unicode.

-> i vastly prefer literate - novella length responses to extremely short ones, but as long as i have something to go off of, we're golden.

-> my activity fluctuates. i follow the philosophy of "roleplay is a hobby, not a job". that said, you can gently poke me about replies once every couple days or so. sometimes, i forget to publish from drafts.

-> it is perfectly fine to come start chatting ooc in my inbox!! i'd love to hear from you and get to know you.

-> mun =/= muse.

[justaradioguy]

new rules post, updated dec. 31, 2022!

triggers/discomforts

-> i mainly tag more common triggers! you can always request me to tag something for you as well.

-> tags will be formatted as "tw content" and "content tw" without quotes. for instance, tw blood and blood tw.

-> i will not write smut on this blog or any other blog. occasional suggestive content may occur, but is unlikely.

-> if you'd like to not see personal posts, you can block my personal tag which is "short little span of attention ;; mun post" without the quotes. however, this will also block updates until/unless i make an update tag.

-> common triggers that this blog is going to contain are injury, war, violence, and trauma. again, please be advised that you're welcome to block the tags!

-> i try to keep my blog as drama free as possible. i don't partake in callouts or anything like that.

interactions

-> i really don't care who follows me, but please note i only follow rp-related blogs from my rp blog! my own personal may follow you back if we become friends, though.

-> the exceptions to the above are blogs that make me uncomfortable or are otherwise inaccessible to me. porn, gore, etc. blogs need not interact, for instance.

-> i don't engage with people who are cool with shipping minors with adults, siblings, or anything like that.

-> for full disclosure, i'm 21. i do not have an age limit for roleplaying with me, but some people do and that's perfectly okay!

-> while i don't practice strict reblog karma, i'd appreciate this blog not being used as a source for memes/asks/etc.! it's better to reblog things from their source when possible, or send me a little something first if it's not too much trouble.

-> while i do read rules, i sometimes have problems locating passwords if you have one! i try my best, but due to a visual impairment they may get missed.

-> for the same reason i may miss passwords, i don't include one in my own rules. it'll be pretty obvious to me if you've not read them.

-> unless i have reblogs turned off for a post, you can assume it's safe to reblog.

roleplaying

-> while this blog is dedicated to kain, my hub blog ( @relentless-understudy ) is a multimuse blog!

-> i am non-private and semi-selective. that means i'll roleplay with non-mutuals, but not literally everybody. i have the right to deny a roleplay if i don't like it.

-> please do not use legacy editor to reply to me. it leaves me unable to trim reblogs, as i use beta editor and xkit rewritten.

-> i love ocs. i love crossovers. gimme

-> that said, please make sure your oc is developed and fits within whatever we're doing! i'd prefer if you had a bio posted for them, and i don't like pre-established relationships unless we discuss it ooc first.

-> i don't do exclusives. i love every unique take on other characters! the more, the merrier.

-> i personally default to using small text and the occasional icon, but can adjust if you'd like! for me, i will not write with people who use non-default/fancy fonts. even if my phone displays some, my screenreader will never pick up unicode.

-> i vastly prefer literate - novella length responses to extremely short ones, but as long as i have something to go off of, we're golden.

-> my activity fluctuates. i follow the philosophy of "roleplay is a hobby, not a job". that said, you can gently poke me about replies once every couple days or so. sometimes, i forget to publish from drafts.

-> it is perfectly fine to come start chatting ooc in my inbox!! i'd love to hear from you and get to know you.

-> mun =/= muse.