#you only have (old diagnosis) what's wrong with you

[gyllenhaalstories]

FREAK LIKE ME — ELWOOD DALTON x PLUS SIZE! READER ❤️‍🩹

summary: what doesn't kill you makes you freakier, amirite?

warnings: blood & injury, smut (mild blood kink, praise kink, blowjob, nipple play, titjob). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2120

gifs credits: @/tay-swifts (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: me? writing for dalton again? groundbreaking. ❣️🩹 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"Hey, Doc," Dalton smiled. "Do I need surgery?"

You walked away from the sink, holding your clean hands in the air as to not soil them. "Sorry." Your chin pointed at the counter. Dalton climbed on it, next to all of the medical supplies, while you sat on a chair in front of him. "You're a lost cause."

"That's a rough diagnosis." He shrugged lightly, his smile widened when you took a closer look at the old bandage.

You sighed and only then his smile faded a bit.

"I tried." He answered before you could reprimand him.

You had told him to be careful and avoid abrupt movements, you could not have asked something more impossible than that.

"They started it. I had to end the fight and... Yeah." Another shrug, but this time he winced when you detached the bandage off his skin. The feeling of the glue pulling at his skin and the wound exposed to the air reminded him it was not all fun and games. He forgot about that reminder pretty quickly.

You disposed of the old gauze and started to clean the stabbing wound. You liked to do most of those tasks in silence, focused on taking care of your man.

The silence left more space for Dalton's noises to be heard. The winces, whimpers and gasps echoed loudly in your mind while you patched his wound. There were moans too. Lots of them.

When you first helped him out with his situation, having failed to convince him that nurses were better suited for the task, you figured the moans were just how he expressed his pain.

Maybe it truly was his way to express it. You thought that when you got hurt for as long as he did, the reactions were numbed. Instead of a scream, that was what he would do. You were not wrong, only you were not exactly right.

Because Dalton loved the pain, in a masochist type of way that you still had trouble to understand. He said multiple times before how he liked "to pay for it".

You had never questioned him further. You had never explored this further. Maybe, just maybe, you could entertain this part of him...

"Hey, you good?" He noticed how you stalled, there was concern and worry laced in his voice.

You cleared your throat, realizing that you were lost in your thoughts. "Yeah. It's just..." You scrambled for an answer and pulled open the wrapping of the new bandage. "It looks gnarly."

"You should see the other guy." Dalton scoffed, but suddenly he flinched with his lips curled up and face scrunching. He waited for a second or two, then he breathed out. "Oooh, that hurts."

You watched his reaction closely while you pressed your hand on the bandage, hoping this one will last for longer than a few hours.

His eyes locked with yours. He smiled, again. "I'm not complaining."

You stroked your thumb over his skin while he enjoyed the moment, not pulling away just yet.

His body relaxed, getting used to the pressure against the lesion. Oh yeah, he was loving it.

You stood up and he was visibly disappointed. You were not gone for long, you washed your hands and joined him by the counter again. "You're a freak. You know that, right?"

"I'm aware." He wore that title with pride like a champion's belt.

You pulled your shirt above your head and disposed of it on the floor. You held Dalton's gaze while you knelt down in front of him. Your shirt serving as a thin pillow for your knees.

He stood up, immediately searching for something better that would not hurt your body, but your hands were already busy unzipping his jeans.

You took in the view of the striking contrast between the white bandage and his tan skin. You drank in the sight of Dalton towering over you while your eyes explored his abdomen and chest, all the way up to his face that was painted with a layer of curiosity.

But mostly lust. He watched you struggle to pull his free his cock from his clothes. "Good job." He praised you when you peppered kisses over his semi hard cock.

You stuck your tongue out and licked a few long strands along his shaft before you took him in your mouth.

Dalton's grunts got louder as he got harder at the feeling of your tongue teasing him. "I told you..."

You pulled your head back and twirled your tongue around his tip. You looked up at him and batted your eyes with a hint of innocence that made him smirk.

"It's better when you do it instead."

You knew he mostly referred to his aversion to hospitals (and pain killers), but the way he started to slowly push his cock deeper into your mouth confirmed his words had a double meaning.

He loved what you were doing right now, he loved how you turned him on with just a touch, but he also loved the attention and care you poured into your actions and into making sure that he was as safe as he could be. Not many people cared about him, at least not after the events. All he needed was you.

He snapped you back to reality when he made you gag around his cock. You pulled back, hands leaning on your thighs while you tried to breathe through the coughing.

"It's okay, breathe slowly. You can do it." He walked you through every step of the process so you did not panic at the sudden lacks of oxygen. "I know, it always takes you by surprise but you love it, don't you? I love it too." He spoke, softly, and he presented his tip to your shaky chin. He gathered some of the spit and your lips parted open for him. "I love it when you gag on my cock."

Another harsh thrust hit the back of your throat and tears pooled in your eyes. You held on his strong thighs instead and, somehow, that helped.

"I love it even more when you cry like this. So beautiful." He placed a gentle hand on the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. You melted against his hand, but he used this sweet gesture to set the pace.

Your head bopped back and forth on his length, each time you took him better and deeper. You felt a bit less scared of the gagging, though it happened plenty of times. You figured out a long time ago that you would never get used to just how big your man truly was.

Dalton began to properly fuck your face, never pulling you too far away from him. He loved to feel you struggle around him. He loved to feel your hands try and grasp at something, anything, to help you stay focus and not push him off. He especially loved the way you pressed on his wound.

You earned the loudest moan you had heard from him today. So, you increased the pressure of your palm against the bandage and you toyed with his pain tolerance that was terrifyingly high.

Dalton played with you instead. He tested just how much you could take, keeping his cock so deep that your nose brushed over his shaved skin and that your chin touched his balls that were now covered in spit.

He gave you breaks to catch your breath and you smiled at him every time. He told you, over and over again, just how pretty you looked for him down there until your cheeks warmed up from all the praise and compliments.

So he shoved his cock inside of you again, with a newfound sense of urgency. He was getting close and you could feel it by the way he throbbed heavily in your mouth. You could hear it, too, with the melody of grunts and moans that he made. Dalton lost a bit of the mercy he was known to save only for you. He was chasing his own high and you happily let him.

Your left hand rested on his waist, nails digging into his flesh as you tried to take his pounding. On the other side, you kept pressing his wound. The more he winced and he scrunched his face in pain, the more you knew that he was enjoying himself.

It took more tears on your face, more muffled moans around his cock and a few more thrusts for Dalton to cum in your throat. So far down, you had no choice but to swallow his load. He pulled out, slowly, and smiled from ear to ear at the mess of spit and cum that covered both your face and his cock. He nodded briefly, giving you permission to clean up the mess.

You earned another good job, spoken in that soft voice of his that made your brain melt into a puddle. Just like you did at the beginning, you left small kisses all over his body. You focused on his defined v-line and puffy abs while working your way up.

Dalton helped you to stand up, guessing that all this time spent on your knees might have hurt a bit. "Easy, easy. I got you." He supported your arms until you were back up on your feet, then he insisted you sat down.

You did not protest, you were at the perfect angle now. You wrapped your arms around his waist, dragging your hands across his skin. You brushed over the bandage, only then noticing a touch of red through the material. You pressed a kiss in the valley between his pecs.

Kisses that continued until a faint grunt emanated from Dalton's mouth.

You wrapped your lips around his small nipple, your tongue twirled around it. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling, too.

Dalton pressed his body against yours when you gave the same treatment to the other sensitive bud.

You licked, sucked and nibbled on his nipples just the way he liked it.

He melted in your arms, your warm breath tickled the skin of his chest. It was still crazy to you how such a strong man could barely resist the gentle touch of your lips.

Soon enough, you left his chest as drooly and messy as his cock. That did not stop you, you were fuelled by all of his little reactions.

Heavy breathing, high pitched moans, his hips jerking forward. You loved everything that he was giving you.

You could feel his bulge pressing against you and this was the only reason that convinced you to pull away. You wanted more of him, you wanted to feel him so bad. As if he could read your mind, Dalton cut you off.

"You think you can give me all this attention," Dalton took a deep breath. "And I won't do the same to your pretty tits?" He leaned forward, crashing his lips against yours with a hungry kiss while he took the opportunity to let his hands wander over your skin. He caressed his way from your neck and down on your arms until his rough hands landed on your hips. He squeezed your flesh for a moment before moving upwards to fondle your breasts, only then being reminded of the presence of your bra that he unhooked effortlessly.

"But Dalton," you whined, watching your bra land on the floor. "I need you." He groaned, encouraging you to keep using your words. "I need you to fuck me, please." He hooked a finger under your chin, making you look up at him. "Please."

"You know I can go for a third round." He scoffed, amused by the way you insinuated that this moment you shared would end so soon. Then, his voice dropped lower, his ocean blue eyes appeared darker. "I can go for as many rounds as I want." He rectified himself.

You moaned sinfully, watching him stroke his cock to full hardness again.

"Hold them, yeah, just like that." You pressed your tits together, he pushed his cock in the small gap between them. Spit fell from your lips and dripped down on your chest. "That's my good fucking girl." He used the spit as lube and started to fuck your tits.

Not once did his eyes lose sight of you, your face turned him on just as much as the feeling of your tits on his sensitive cock. "You're a little freak like me, huh?"

His gaze fell down to your chest, he grunted again at the sight of his precum glistening on your skin. You looked at each other with lustful eyes. Dalton smiled. "If only you knew."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured VIII

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: There's an emergency

"Alexia...Alexia...Alexia!"

Alexia comes back into consciousness slowly. It's still dark out and her alarm clock proclaims it to be nearly two in the morning.

Olga is standing over the bed and even in the dim light, Alexia can tell something is wrong. Olga is saying something but Alexia is still waking up and only tunes in at the very end.

"-Already called Jenni. She's going to meet us there."

Alexia sits up, rubbing her eyes. "Meet us there? Jenni? What's going on?"

She flicks on the bedside light. Olga is still in her pyjamas but she's wearing her coat over the top and a pair of shoes. She's got Jaume on her hip.

He's got old little red pinpricks all over his neck and arms.

"Is that chickenpox?"

"No," Olga says, babbling at rapid speed as she shoves the sheets off Alexia's body," I thought it was but I saw some article on my feed about how to make sure it's not anything else and-"

"Olga? What is going on?"

"I think it's meningitis," Olga finally says," And we need to take him to the hospital."

Alexia's up like a shot, hopping around on one foot as she grabs the first set of shoes she can find. "It can't be," She denies," We got him vaccinated. I remember it!"

"That's what I thought!" Olga says back," But the rash doesn't go away when I press a glass to it and you know how he's been lately!"

Alexia nods, pulling on a Barca issued jacket. She pauses as she moves. "Bambi," She murmurs before raising her voice," Shit, Bambi! She was running a bit hot after her ballet class. But I just assumed it was all the movement. My phone...Where's my phone? I need to-"

"I used it to call Jenni," Olga says as they both go running out the door," She's going to meet us there."

She and Olga get there well before you and Jenni do.

Jaume is taken to get a spinal tap but the doctor is confident that it's meningitis so puts him on antibiotics as soon as the procedure is done.

"I don't understand," Alexia says," My kids are vaccinated! Both of them! They're up to date. I took Bambi to all of her boosters! Jaume's scheduled for another one when he hits a year!"

"Sometimes vaccines aren't one hundred percent effective," The doctor says, clearly used to calming enrage parents," What matters is that you saw it and you got him in tonight. The spinal tap should confirm the diagnosis but we've already got him on an IV." The doctor turns to leave before stopping. "You've got another child?"

Alexia's head frantically nods. "Yes. A girl. She's four. She's being brought in now."

The doctor nods, scribbling something on his clipboard. "As soon as she's here, have someone page me. Older children find it harder to stay still for the spinal tap. I'll contact anaesthesia and get someone to bring a mask."

Alexia's head changes from nodding to shaking furiously. "No!" She says it a bit louder than she meant to that even Olga looks shocked.

"It'll be better," Olga tries to explain," If they put her to sleep-"

"No, I mean..." Alexia shakes her head, the words spilling out of her mouth naturally. "She's allergic! To Isoflurane! That's the gas anaesthesia, right? Right?"

She looks around wildly as the doctor's face turns grim.

"I'll get some local," The doctor says," I know we made you wait outside for Jaume but it would be best if you came in for your daughter, if we're only using local, to keep her calm."

It's a waiting game until Jenni arrives with you and Alexia finds herself doom scrolling. She's dived into whatever article she can find on meningitis in children and the more she reads, the worse she feels.

They're yet to be allowed into see Jaume as the staff work to get him a bit more comfortable but Alexia can see him through the window and he's completely passed out asleep.

"I didn't know y/n was allergic to anything," Olga says softly.

Alexia laughs. It's more a nervous chuckle than anything else. "I don't even think Jenni does. My father was allergic. It skipped me and Alba but I wanted to check for Bambi, just in case."

"It's a good thing you did," Olga says.

Alexia looks down at her phone. "Where are they? They should be here by now."

"They'll be here soon. It's going to be okay."

It takes another ten minutes for you and Jenni to arrive.

You look infinitely worse than Jaume. The rash is completely obvious, taking over your whole body and Jenni looks just as distressed.

It takes another ten for the doctor to return.

You don't understand what's going on. Your Ma-Jenni woke you up super early before the sun has come up. She didn't get you dressed or brush your hair how you like it.

She didn't explain much at all...or, anything really. She just put you in the car and didn't say anything.

You'd tried to ask but your throat felt all scratchy and your tummy hurt.

All you know now is that you're at the hospital with Ma-Jenni, Mami and Miss Olga. There's a strange man with cold fingers that takes your shirt from you and makes you curl up on your side.

"Ma-Jenni?" You ask, trembling," What's going on?"

"Ssh, Bambi," Ma-Jenni says. Her tone is harsh, harsher than you've ever heard her speak to you and your tummy ties itself in a knot at her words.

You can hear the strange man talking nonsense to the adults and your eyes go wide at the tray of tools that's wheeled in. They look pointy and sharp, like the tools from that silly doctor show that Tia Alba likes.

You suck in a harsh breath when you feel a pinch at your back. You yelp and instantly try to wiggle away.

"No!" You cry," No! Off! Stop it! I don't want to! I don't want to!"

You force yourself to uncurl. You don't want this strange man touching your back. He makes it hurt and you got want any more of his sharp tools in your skin.

There's a grip on your legs though, forcing them back into position. You turn your head to look at who's got you against your will.

It's Ma-Jenni.

Her grip is firm and hard as she forces your kicking legs still. One of her arms has clamped them together, forcing them to stop moving while her other hand is on your hip, forcing your down onto the table until you're immobile.

You want her hands off you. Ma-Jenni has big hands that are perfect to hold you but not like this, never like this. You don't want her touching you like this.

"Ma-Jenni," You sob," Stop it! Stop it, please! Please!"

She doesn't stop though, merely readjusts her grip and pushes you down further until you well and truly can't move your bottom half.

"Stop it!" You continue to say," Stop it, Mama! Mama, stop!"

Hands curve around your shoulders and these are familiar hands too.

Mami's hands are perfect to hold in yours. They're always warm and they always hold you so gently. But now they've got your arms pinned to your chest and are forcing your shoulders firmly into the examination bed.

"Mami," You cry," Please stop. Mami, please. I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mami! Stop!"

Mami's lips ghost your hairline. "I'm sorry, Bambi," She says, her voice a whisper that you can barely hear over your panic," I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay. You just need to be still. I'm sorry."

You can't move and the strange man is doing things to your back. You can't feel any pain but you can feel pressure and you can feel when he sticks something beneath your skin where things aren't supposed to go.

The only thing you can do is move your eyes and they focus on Miss Olga, the only adult in the room that's not actively hurting you.

"Miss Olga," You sob," Make them stop."

Her eyes nervously dart to the door like she wants to run away but she doesn't. She steps closer to where the adults are holding you, crouching down until your heads are almost the same height.

"I'm so sorry," She says to you," It's going to be okay, I promise. They're just making sure you're healthy."

"Miss Olga, please," You reply. You try to kick out your legs but Ma-Jenni just grips them more tightly," I'm sorry. I can be good. I can be better!"

"Hey," She says softly when your eyes dart towards your Mami," You are being so good. There's no one being better. Do you know what's going on?"

"No."

"You're very sick," Miss Olga speaks gently to you and brushes away a portion of hair that's covering your eyes," And we need to know what's wrong. Do you remember a few months ago when we came here and they put a needle in my arm?"

You do remember that. It was on one of hospital visits that you went on to see baby Jaume in Miss Olga's belly. They took some of her blood that appointment.

"They takin' my blood?" You ask shakily.

"They're taking a little bit of fluid from your back," Miss Olga explains," And they're going to test that for the illness they think you have. Like how they took my blood to make sure I was healthy."

You sniffle.

Mami and Ma-Jenni's hands are like shackles around your limbs, wrapped around your flesh and unwilling to even give you an inch.

"I'm scared," You whisper.

"That's okay," Olga whispers back," It's always okay to be a little scared. But you're doing so well. You're being such a brave girl. I'm sure it won't be much longer now."

You can feel the thing in your back moving and you try to shift with it but Ma-Jenni's hand clamps down on your hip and anchors you to it so you can't move again, not even a little rock back and forth.

"Hey," Olga says, pulling your attention away from what's happening at your back," Your Mami told me that you've moved up in ballet. I'm sure it's so much fun."

"It is."

"That's great! Do you want to tell me about it?"

Actually, you find that you do what to tell Olga about your ballet. Your words come out stilted and stuttered but you force them out of your mouth.

Olga smiles at you. She's got a pretty smile, you think. Mami must really love girls with pretty smiles.

"That sounds so cool," Olga says to you," You must be so talented." She leans a bit closer to you and you don't even feel the man taking the pointy thing out of your back. "Hey, maybe when you're all better, you can show me some moves. Only if you'd like to."

You duck your head down as the hands slowly leave your body. "Yes, please."

You're rolled onto your back but you keep your head tilted to look at Olga.

You don't know much about her apart from the fact that she's marrying your Mami and they had baby Jaume together.

Mami and Ma-Jenni are still talking to the doctor so you can fully focus on Olga.

She and baby Jaume look alike, you think. They've got the same eyes and nose and face shape. You think that baby Jaume might get her pretty smile when he's older too.

Her hand is gently resting on the side of your bed and you very gently move your own until your fingers are touching.

She hasn't got big hands like how Mami and Ma-Jenni's are big but they're still bigger than yours. They're safe too. You know this because she's never once dropped baby Jaume, even when she once tripped over and fell on her butt. She didn't drop Jaume once.

She smiles her pretty smile and you smile too, not even noticing when the nurse hooks you up to an IV.

"Hey, Bambi," Mami says," Everything's going to be okay now. I'm so-"

You stubbornly don't look at her and she frowns.

"Bambi?" Ma-Jenni asks," How's your back?"

You don't even deign her with an answer. It's still early and you're very tired. You don't want to talk to them, not when they pinned you down like that.

"I'm sorry," The nurse says," But I'm going to have ask you all to leave. The legal guardians can sleep over but that's all."

You don't know what legal guardians means but you do know that Ma-Jenni isn't one. She lives in Mexico for most of the year so she can't be your guardian because you don't live there with her.

She looks like she's going to argue but she doesn't. She reaches to give you a kiss on the forehead but you flinch away and she stops before her lips can press against your skin.

"I love you, Bambi," She says," And I'll be back to see you as early as I can."

You don't answer her.

It's just Olga and Mami left.

"I'm going to go sit with Jaume," Olga says and you frown.

"Jaume's sick too? Did I get him sick?" Your bottom lip wobbles.

"No, of course not." Olga says firmly," You and Jaume just got sick at the same time. It's very sad but it does happen."

"Really?"

"Yes." She heads to the door. "I hope you feel much better later. Maybe, if you feel up to it, you can tell me about your trains? Your Mami says that you love them a lot."

You nod. "Yes."

Then, it's just you and Mami left.

The nurse has set up a little bed next to yours for Mami to sleep on.

Mami seems a little nervous with you, pulling at the sleeves of her pyjama shirt. She looks at you.

You look at her.

You only saw her a few days again, when you painted pottery together and you asked her if you were wanted.

Mami doesn't sit in her bed, she pulls up a chair next to yours. She tries to reach for your hand but you pull it away before she can touch you, cradling it against your chest as you stare.

"Bambi," She begins before shaking her head and stopping. She takes a few moments before opening her mouth again. "I'm very, very sorry."

Those weren't the words that you were expecting.

You still don't answer though. If you blink, you can still feel her phantom hands over your body and the iron grip she had on your limbs.

She scoots the chair closer.

"I love you so much and I'm so sorry that you're sick."

She looks like she wants to say more but you don't really want her to keep talking.

"Bambi, I...I have not been a very good Mami to you," Alexia has to force the words out of her throat even if you give no indication that you can hear her," And I'm very, very sorry."

You still don't say anything. You just lie on your back with your eyes wide open.

"I'm sorry for what happened at home and I'm sorry for what a few-"

"I'm tired, Mami," You say, your voice quiet and exhausted.

"Right," Alexia says, scolding herself inwardly at keeping you up. It's still the middle of the night. "You go to sleep, Bambi. I'll be right here if you need me."

The stress of everything tonight seems to knock you out quickly but Alexia doesn't move to her own bed. She doesn't move. She doesn't sleep. She just stays in that seat even as a nurse pops their head in to confirm that both you and Jaume have bacterial meningitis.

A week hospital visit and IV's full of antibiotics is what awaits you both, baring any complications.

Jenni returns as soon as visiting hours begin again, pulling Alba and Eli in tow.

Eli diverts briefly to check on Olga and Jaume while Jenni and Alba come straight to you. You're still asleep when they arrive, lying on your back with a cannula in your hand to administer your medication.

"You look exhausted," Alba says in greeting, handing off a cup of to-go coffee to her sister," Did you sleep at all?"

"No." Alexia continues to stare at you, focussed on the soft rise and fall of your chest as you sleep.

"I'm surprised you're still here," Alba continues and, for once, her tone isn't biting. She seems genuinely surprised. "Haven't you got training?"

"I called off for the week," Alexia replies," And next week. It's more than enough time for them both to recover."

"You're taking time off?" Alba looks even more surprised than before. "Like, actually?"

Alexia doesn't know why that's so confusing. "Of course. My kids are sick. They need to be looked after."

Alba's mouth opens and closes a few times before she settles on something to say," How is Jaume?"

"Good, better. The doctors said that it's good we caught it when we did. The longer the rash is there for, the worse he could have gotten. It came up last night. We caught here as quick as we could."

Alexia's glad for that. She has no idea what could have happened, how much worse Jaume could have gotten if they had left it a few hours, let alone a few days.

Jenni is strangely silent at her words, reaching out to gently brush some of your hair out of your face.

"How long of a hospital stay?" Alba asks.

"About a week for both of them. The doctors said that they're going to do a hearing test with Bambi in a few days and then four weeks after she's recovered."

"And Jaume?"

"The same," Alexia confirms," Olga is with him now."

"Mama's with her," Alba says," We picked her up on the way."

There's a rustle of sheets as you blink awake. A yawn takes over your whole face as you wake up.

Mami, Ma-Jenni and Tia Alba are all looking at you and you pull your blankets up until they're over your nose.

You don't like the fact that Mami and Ma-Jenni are in the same room together. You can still feel their weights on you, pinning you to the bed as you struggled to get free.

You don't want them here. Not within arms length of you, in case they take your top away again and pin you down.

"Tia," You croak out and Alba pushes past Ma-Jenni to take your hand.

"You're not looking too good there, Bambi," Tia Alba says," How are you feeling?"

"Is Jaume still sick too?"

"He's getting a lot better. Your Abuela and Olga are with him now."

"Is Abuela and Olga going to get sick too?"

"No, don't be silly. Adults don't get sick like that." Tia Alba's teasing you. She's putting on a silly voice and it shocks a little giggle out of you. "I'm sure once your Abuela is done with baby Jaume then she'll be right in to see you."

"And Olga too?"

Alexia goes rigid in her seat. "Olga doesn't have to come in if you don't want her to."

You don't even acknowledge she's talking to you.

"No one has to come in that you don't want to," Jenni promises you but you don't give any indication that you heard her either.

"Olga thinks that I'm talented," You say to Tia Alba," She asked me about my ballet and my trains. She wanted to know more. Did you bring any of my trains?"

The bag on Jenni's shoulder is passed off to Alba. She digs through it, pulling out a spare change of clothes as well as a few model trains that had been shoved in there this morning.

"I want to show Olga my trains," You say," When she's done with baby Jaume." You run your trains over the bed, making little chugging noises with your mouth.

"I think that's a great idea, Bambi," Alexia says but you don't answer.

You haven't acknowledged her or Jenni since you woke up and it's put her on edge. Even when you were scared a few days ago, you still acknowledged her.

But your focus is purely on Alba but even that is hit and miss.

Whenever Alba reaches out to play trains with you, you flinch away. You look up at her in shock each time before glancing back down at your arms as if you can't believe you flinched.

"How are you feeling, Bambi?" Eli asks as she comes in.

You shrug and raise your hand. "They put a thing in my hand."

"They put one in your brother's too," Eli says," It's to give you your medicine."

"Did they put the thing in Jaume's back too?"

Eli nods. "They did."

Your eyes are haunted as you stare at her. "Did they pin him down too?"

Whatever bubble that the room was in bursts and Eli notices the way Alexia and Jenni both exchange a wide eyed look, like two little children caught red handed.

Eli has to think over her words carefully. "You're both very sick," She settles on eventually," Do you know why they had to put something in your back?"

You parrot back the words Olga told you and Abuela nods.

"That's right," She says.

"Olga says I was very brave even though I was crying."

"I'm sure you were the bravest little girl in the world," Abuela kisses your forehead but her lips feel too much like Mami and Ma-Jenni's and suddenly you can feel their hands on you again.

You kick your legs out and move your arms to shake the phantom hands off and they're gone as quickly as they appeared.

"Alexia, Jenni," Abuela says," Can I talk to you out in the hall?"

As they all leave, you look through the windows of your room.

Olga is lingering outside, looking into your room every so often before looking away.

"Tia Alba," You say," Can I still show Olga my trains?"

"Should I bring her in here?"

"Yes, please."

Ma-Jenni and Mami stay outside with Abeula for a long time but you don't even notice.

You've never talked with Olga like this before, not really. There had been a few moments when she was pregnant with baby Jaume where you watched things together and you helped her cook but you had never been like this with her before.

You hand her one of your trains and smile when she plays with you, gently moving the trains around your bed together.

"Is Jaume going to be okay?" You ask her because she's Jaume's mami and she knows things like that.

"He's going to be just fine," She promises you," And so are you. Just a few more days."

"I'm going to miss ballet," You say," That's bad. Mami never misses her training so I shouldn't miss mine."

"Your Mami's missing training now," Olga says," And she's missing it until you get healthy again. That's what you should focus on. Getting healthy again so you can go back to ballet."

"Mami is missing training? Why?"

"Because she wants to make sure you're okay," Olga says," Because she loves you."

You don't believe her but Olga looks very serious so you think that she must think that's true.

"Olga," You say," I'm hungry. When's lunch?"

She laughs a little bit about your blatant change of subject. "A few hours still," She says," How about I go to the shop and get you a snack?"

Olga slips out into the hallway where Eli is still lecturing Jenni and Alexia about their treatment of you. Your sobs and begging still rung in Olga's ears, the way that you cried and cried and begged and begged.

"She's hungry," She says, interrupting the lecture," I'm going to get her a snack."

"I'll come with you," Jenni says," I need a coffee."

The trip to the little shop was awkward, made even more awkward when Olga selected a plain chocolate bar only to have it plucked from her hand and replaced with one with caramel.

"She thinks the plain ones are too hard," Jenni says, almost carelessly," She doesn't like how they feel on her teeth. She prefers caramel."

Olga stares down at the chocolate in her hand, noting down another new thing in the column dedicated to you in her mind. It's painfully bare with only a few things - trains, ballet, the allergy she found out yesterday and now your favourite kind of chocolate.

She had told Alexia she wasn't threatened by Jenni and that's still true but that doesn't mean that Olga isn't intimidated.

Jenni just looks a bit intimidating with her tattoos and her height and the stern look on her face when it comes to you.

"Thanks."

It's silent for a moment as they both wander through the winding hallways back up to the peds wing.

"No," Jenni says eventually, shaking her head like she had been fighting with herself," I'm sorry, Olga. But I have to know...How could you let this happen? With Bambi, I mean? Stuff like this doesn't happen overnight."

Olga wants to bolt, to run and escape this but she holds herself firm as she scrambles to find something to say, knowing exactly what Jenni is talking about. "I didn't notice," She settles on eventually," It is wrong to say but it is true."

Jenni can't seem to understand though. "But how? Bambi is...How could you just not notice?"

"I just didn't," Olga says," And that was wrong of me. It was wrong of Alexia. We've talked about it...a lot...We're trying to move forward, for y/n."

Jenni looks at her, long and hard and Olga suddenly understands what rival players feel when they see Jenni come onto the pitch.

"Don't let it happen again," Jenni says firmly before taking off again, leaving Olga to scramble to keep up.

You're exactly as they left you, sitting in the middle of your bed. You're making chugging noises with your mouth as you run a train over Eli's arm.

Alexia is back in her seat next to your bed but you've scooched away from her as far as you can get.

"Caramel!" You cheer when Olga presents your food," That's my favourite! Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

You munch happily on your food a little but before you stop to scratch at your rash.

Automatically, like she did a few days ago when she first noticed it, Jenni takes your hand to stop you scratching.

You violently flinch away, tearing your hand away from hers. You scrunch your eyes closed firmly as you suck in air.

You can feel the hands on your legs again, forcing you to go immobile as the strange man pokes and prods at your back.

"No!" You cry out, turning away and curling up under your blanket," Stop it! Stop it, Mama! No bad touches! No more bad touches!" You kick your legs out. "No! Stop it!"

"Out," You can hear your Abuela say.

Eli-"

"Out, Jenni! Alexia, you too! Olga-"

"I'll go and see Jaume. He should be up from his nap by now."

"No! No! No!" You continue to chant as the blanket is pealed back.

It's not Ma-Jenni though. It's Abuela with Tia Alba hovering over her shoulder.

You sniffle if you sit up again.

"What happened, huh, Bambi?" Abuela asks," What was that about?"

"Mama hurt me," You say," When the strange man touched my back. I asked her not to! I asked her to stop!"

"I know," Abuela says," I know, Bambi."

"I didn't know what was happening," You say," It was scary and Mama wouldn't tell me what was going on."

It was very scary. You didn't think Ma-Jenni would do that to you, would pin you down and not explain what was happening. Mami could be harsh sometimes and you know she can be rough on the pitch too. She even said she was sorry while doing it but Ma-Jenni didn't.

Ma-Jenni told you to shh and pinned you down and didn't say sorry. You can still feel her hands on you, constantly pinning your legs down and pushing you further into bed.

She didn't say sorry at all and that's what scares you.

"I'm sorry that scared you," Abuela says," I'm sure Jenni didn't mean to."

"She didn't say sorry," You say," And she hurt me."

"Bambi-"

"She did! I'm not lying!"

"No one says' you're lying," Tia Alba assures you," I think you're telling the truth but, Bambi, you needed to have that done, so you can get better."

Ma-Jenni comes back when it's dark. There's no lights coming through your windows and the moon is out so you know it's night time.

Mami is meant to be sleeping on the bed next to you but she's not there.

The door to your room opens though and Ma-Jenni steps in.

But she doesn't look like Ma-Jenni though. There's something different about her. Maybe it's her too sharp features or her too pointed teeth. Maybe it's the curve of her nails or the way she's looming over you.

You can't move and Monster-Jenni's sharp claws dig into your legs easily.

You shriek but she's pressing her whole weight down onto the hand that's got your legs while her other one pins you down by your chest. You can't move. You can't stop her no matter how much you plead and beg and sob.

She's still holding you with bad touches and the strange man appears again. He's got too sharp teeth too and a massive needle that looks even scarier than before.

"Mami!" You cry as you jolt awake, gripping your bedsheets and screaming.

Mami's up like a shot, looking around like she thinks someone's hiding in the shadows. You're scared that Monster-Jenni is there too.

"Mami!" You sob, reaching desperately for her, your mind recycling her apologies as she held you down.

This time though, you crawl into her arms and sob, burying your face in her shirt as you cry.

For a moment, Alexia is in shock at your willingness to touch her. Whatever you had dreamt about must have been bad because you've curled your body around hers and Alexia very carefully curls her arms around you.

"It's okay, Bambi," She whispers," It's okay. It wasn't real. None of it was real. I've got you. Mami's got you."

"Mami," You whimper," Mami, it hurts."

"What hurts?"

"Everything!"

"I'm so sorry, Bambi," Alexia says and she knows that you know what she means, just like how you know she knows what you mean by everything," It's all going to be okay. I promise, this is all going to be okay. No matter what happens."

"I'm scared, Mami."

"I know, Bambi. I'm going to help make it better."

[alotofpockets]

We've got you | Arsenal WFC

Pairing: Arsenal x Teen!Reader

Request: Arsenal teen reader fic where they have an eating disorder and the team helps them through it.

Warnings: Eating disorders, passing out, talk of negative body image.

A/n: Thank you @catasha for proof-reading and your feedback & thank you @lessi-lover and @greynatomy as well for your help 💗

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

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As the youngest player on the team a lot of your teammates kept a close eye on you. They made sure you did your homework, helped you pack your bag, and in general were there for you for whatever you needed. There was one thing they hadn’t noticed though, and it was that you had started eating less and less. You were actively trying to hide it from them, so you didn't blame them for not noticing.

You had been diagnosed with an eating disorder when you were fourteen years old, and though you had been doing better the past year, your old habits started to reappear. Of course, something like that doesn’t really go away, but the voices in your head telling you that you shouldn’t eat have been quiet.

None of your teammates knew about your diagnosis, as you hadn;t struggled with it during your time with Arsenal. Well, not until now. In your plan to hide it from your teammates, you hadn’t counted on someone knowing the symptoms of an eating disorder, but one of them did. Alessia Russo, one of the more recent signings was keeping an eye on your food intake, unbeknownst to you. She had noticed you barely touching your breakfast. At first she didn’t think anything of it, but when she saw you only eating a few bites of your lunch, until you excused yourself, her mind started to wonder. She recognized patterns she had been stuck on in her highschool years, and hoped that she was wrong, but she couldn’t just let the thoughts go.

After training that afternoon, Alessia walked with you back to your bags, having placed hers conveniently next to yours at the start. The two of you are talking, when she grabs a protein bar from her bag. “Man, I’m full. Can I interest you in the other half? I would hate for it to go to waste.” You hesitated, but took the bar from her, not fully confident in denying food one on one. Alessia continued talking, but you didn’t hear a word she was saying as you were trying to convince the voices in your head you should eat the bar she offered. You don’t deserve to eat. You’ve gained weight, eating the bar will make it go up more. You tried to fight it. I already took the bar, I have to at least take a bite to show my appreciation. After fighting with the voices in your head for what felt like half an hour, you managed to move the bar up to your mouth with a shaky hand. Luckily Alessia was busy untying her boots, and didn’t see your hands shaking. One small bite is all you were able to eat before the voices in your head started to get loud again. You smiled to Alessia, “Thank you for this.” and head back to the locker rooms. Once you were out of sight from the rest of the team, you threw the bar in a nearby trash can. 

You were currently training in Portugal, so you didn’t have much time where you weren’t surrounded by your teammates. Each meal time was taken together, so you diverted to making it seem like you were eating by tactically moving around the food on your plate, putting a bite on your fork and moving it around while you were conversing with the people surrounding you. Trying to keep their focus on your words, rather than the lack of food actually entering your mouth.

Alessia stuck around until most of the room had cleared out, leaving just the two of you in the room. She moved over to your table, “Hey y/n, how are you doing?” You look up from your plate, “Oh hi Lessi, I’m doing alright. How are you?” She smiled at you softly, “I’m doing alright as well. I wanted to check in with you, to see if everything was okay, since I noticed you hadn’t really touched your food.” Your cheeks turned red, had she noticed? You quickly shake off the thought and shrug your shoulders, “Oh, yes, I’m okay. Just not very hungry, that’s all.” Alessia didn’t want to push you, knowing that that could make it worse, so she settled on talking about football instead, to bond with you, and not let you be on your own. 

The next day you were running around during practice, you loved drills where you got to show your speed. The team was split into two lines, as you would be competing against each other. One person from each team would go at the same time, sprinting to the finish line, the one that reached it first would earn the cone for their team. The team that got to ten cones first would win the exercise. 

Your team was currently at nine cones, while the other team was at eight. It was you running against Lotte, and if you were the fastest, you would get the victory for your team. “You’re going down, grandma.” The team knew you as a joker, so Lotte was used to your antics. “Yeah yeah, you just focus on not tripping over your own feet, kiddo.” You roll your eyes at her, “That was one time!”  

The two of you get ready on the line and wait for the countdown and the whistle to blow. You were running neck and neck, until about three quarters of the way, it was then that you got a step ahead of Lotte, but your lead didn’t last long, as suddenly you found yourself getting weak and dizzy. You divert from the straight line that you were running, and slow down your run. Lotte immediately noticed that something was wrong, and stopped her run to help you. “Hey kid, what’s wrong?’ She grabs your shoulders to keep you in place. “Dizzy.” Is all you get out before you collapse in her arms. 

You passed out for a moment, but luckily the medics were quick by your side. “What happened?” You ask when you see all your teammates standing around you with worried looks on their faces. “You passed out, kid. Do you know what happened?” Leah had your head laying in her lap. “Don’t know.” You say groggily, still not feeling well. “Let’s get you to one of the physio rooms to get you checked out.” One of the medics reached down their hands to help you up. 

Everyone was in the hallway, waiting to hear what was going on, a few of them pacing the hallway, and others sitting along the wall. “She was joking around just moments before, how could this happen out of nowhere?” Leah voiced the thought that most of the girls shared. “I might have an idea.” Alessia said softly. 

The medics walk out of the physio room once they are done examining you, “She seems alright now. We don’t know what happened yet, so we will have to keep a close eye on her. We advised her to stay in the room for at least another hour, just until she feels a bit stronger again. You can see her though.” 

After what Alessia had just shared with the group, just Alessia, Leah, and Kim go into the room first. “Hey kiddo, how are you doing?” Leah sits down on the bed with you, and wraps her arm around you. “I still feel a bit weak, but otherwise okay. You all look very serious though, what’s going on?” Leah looks up to Kim with tears welling in her eyes, not being able to do the talking without breaking. You were like a little sister to her, and it hurt seeing you like this. “It came under our attention that you haven’t really been eating, and we wanted to check in with you. You really scared us out there kid, you need to take care of your body. Can you please tell us how long this has been going on?” They knew now, so hiding was no longer an option. “I was diagnosed with an eating disorder when I was fourteen.” You could feel Leah tense beside you, as she came to the realisation just how serious this was. “I never mentioned it because it’s not been a problem since I’ve joined the team. It started playing up again a few weeks ago, I can handle it.” You were downplaying your wording, trying not to scare your teammates. Leah shook her head, “You’re not handling it though, you literally passed out!” You were shocked with the emotion behind her voice. “Leah, I’m fine.” Leah felt herself getting angry, “No, y/n, you’re not.” She said before she left the room, not wanting to get angry with you while she knew you were struggling.

It stays quiet for a moment, before Alessia speaks up. “I struggled with my weight and my body a lot growing up. I wanted to be skinny, but it ended up making me too weak to play. I learned that for football being strong was more important than my body fitting this image in my mind that society had created.” Kim continued where Alessia left off, “It’s important to give your body the right nutritions, it is for all of us, but especially for a growing body like yours. Skipping meals can harm your body, more than it will do good. We understand that this is a lot, but we really do not want anything like today to happen to you again.” Tears started to form in your eyes. Kim stands up and goes in to hug you, “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got you.” 

Once you calmed down a bit, Kim continued the conversation. They wanted to do everything in their power to help you, because they understood how mentally challenging an eating disorder could be. “We’re going to set up a meeting with the dietitian and nutrition team tomorrow, and get you on a plan that will help you eat in a healthy way, that is based on your body specifically. Alessia is going with you, because her experience will help make sure your best interest is at heart. We are going to be there with you every step of the way. You’re a part of a team, and that means we don’t let anyone go through something alone, okay?” You nodded, “Okay.”

In the hallway Leah is crying into Lia’s arms, after she asked the rest of the team to give you some space today. “She’s acting like nothing is wrong, Wally.” The older girl rubs her hands over her best friend’s back in soothing motions. “I understand, but she needs you Lee. I know you’re angry with her for not telling anyone she’s been struggling, and with yourself for not noticing she was, but let’s focus on the fact that it’s out in the open now, and you can help her.” 

Lia’s words were convincing, so much so that Leah headed back into the room, and asked for a moment alone with you. “Hey kiddo, I’m sorry I ran out. I couldn’t handle my emotions in a way that would be fair to you, so I needed a moment.” You smile at her softly, “It’s fine Lee. I understand, it was big news, and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.” Leah steps forward and hugs you to her chest. “Let’s get you home, okay?” You had been living with Leah since you moved to London, probably the reason that you were closest with her. “Okay.”

The next morning Leah drove you to London Colney for your appointment with the dietitian and nutrition team. Alessia was already waiting when you arrived, she greeted you with a hug. “It’s good to see you, kiddo. Are you ready?” You returned the hug. “As I’ll ever be.” 

It was very helpful having the both of them there. Leah for reassuring you, and Alessia to make sure you answered all their questions properly. After an hour of talking with the team, they had set up the basics of the plan for you. In the next couple of days they would get back to you with a more elaborate plan, including meal options and recipes. 

You know that your journey with food and your body weren’t going to be easy, but you knew that you weren’t going to be alone. The team had always been like family to you, and yesterday showed you again that they would love you unconditionally, and that they would be there for you, no matter what. 

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[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Can you tell me what hurts? - John Marino

Word Count - 5.5 K

Summary - Always struggling with having a abnormal menstrual cycle, and doctors not seeming to care. It sort of became the norm for you to just not really know what's going on with your body. After meeting John, you were worried if he would get scared with how sick you really got so often and run. Or would he be the one to stick around and try to help you figure out what's wrong?

Warnings - mentions of shitty doctors, a mental breakdown, some minor fighting, mentions of blood but I feel like that's a given, PCOS diagnosis

Author's Note - Thank you for always supporting me. I literally wrote finished this segment today because well life. If you have read the other segments of the 'Let me love you' series then you will know that this one is written in a different style. PCOS is one of those things that affects many different parts of life and so this segment does have more time jumps then I normally write. I just really wanted to do a good job of presenting PCOS as a whole, and not only one part.

let me love you masterlist. main masterlist.

Not having a regular menstrual cycle wasn’t something new to you. Never once in your entire life have you ever had a regular period. Fighting with doctors off and on until you ran out of willpower to try to figure out what was wrong with you. Why were you on birth control since you were a freshman in high school? Why was it if you let your body get off the medication you wouldn’t have a period for an entire year? Why would the pain from your natural period put you in the fetal position on your coach? Why was it so hard to lose weight compared to others? Why did you grow body hair three times as fast as others? And why did no one else seem to give a fuck to run the proper tests? 

Fighting with doctors since you were fifteen you ran out of willpower to fight, what was the point. Both of you knew that you had PCOS but they were too scared to diagnose someone so young with it. They didn’t want to have to tell a 19 year old at the time that you might struggle to have kids one day. So you did what you were told, you took birth control and every year like clockwork when your body becomes used to the drug, and your period wouldn’t stop for a month you would change your medicine and start the endless cycle over again.

Meeting John in your mid-20’s, he had no idea that you struggled almost fighting your body every month. Even if you didn’t have your period you still had the side effects of birth control.  Whether in pain from the medicine or crying out of frustration that you were deemed to take a pill for the rest of your life and no one seemed to care to figure out what was actually wrong with you. John still doesn’t know that your body seems to hate you not being able to regulate your own period. Both of you have only been seeing each other for about 6 months. He knew you were on the pill, and you both have been tested and have been having unprotected sex. But he doesn’t know that about once a year your body becomes a crime scene constantly covered in blood, not being able to have a maxi pad on for more than 30 minutes at a time. Although your body doesn’t seem to have any routine, the one thing it has down is when your body becomes used to the brand of birth control you’re on. Every November, your period came and it didn’t stop until after labor day, sometimes the first week of October depending when it came. As each day passed your stomach started to hurt more and more not sure if it was cramps warning you of what’s coming, or your one anxiety in the fact you were about to enter a month of hell and possibly a few ER trips before you could get in to your gynecologist.  

Sadly it was the first as you went to the bathroom to find that your period had indeed started. Sighing to yourself you reached under your sink and grabbed out a maxi pad and put it on. After you’re done using the bathroom, you go to the kitchen and grab some Advil and take 3 hoping it does something to ease the pain you felt. Cursing to yourself as you remembered that you had a date planned with John tonight to go to the movies. No longer feeling like leaving your apartment you decide to call him to cancel, and of course he picks up on the first ring. 

“Hey baby I was just about to leave my place.” sounding rushed. 

“Yeah about that..” taking a deep breath, feeling terrible about canceling but knowing that if you forced yourself to do too much now no way would you be able to last your usual month of hell. 

Johnny softly asks “What’s wrong y/n/n” it’s clear in his voice that his own anxieties are rising and you officially feel like a piece of shit girlfriend for canceling so last minute and not being able to be one of those girls who can just push through having their period. 

Closing your eyes as tight as they go, and gripping your uterus with your free hand you sigh loudly on the phone. “Johnny.” barely above a whisper. “I don’t feel so good.” trying to get the message across that you feel like absolute shit without having to tell him that your period from hell has arrived. 

“Are you sick honey? Do you need me to pick something up from the pharmacy? Can you tell me what hurts? So I can get the right medicine baby.” It’s easy to hear the shuffling in the background, knowing that he is probably slipping on his shoes now to leave. 

“It’s not that kind of sick Johnny.” you shyly admit. “I’m just on my period.” you whisper as you hear Johnny no longer making any sounds on the phone. 

“Okay well, I am still coming over.” he decided.

“Johnny you don’t have-” 

“No, I planned to go to the movies with my girl, so the movies will just have to come to her place instead. Are you craving anything baby? I can stop at the grocery store, do you need anything? I read somewhere once that a heating pad helps. Do you have one?” firing off his questions in seconds, it was sweet but overwhelming a little having someone care so much. 

“I don’t have any cravings, get whatever you want and yes I have a heating pad, but it’s too far away and I’m being lazy.” you softly chuckle your confession. 

“I can instacart snacks I’ll come straight over.” Suddenly you hear the door to his car close. “And before you protest you are in pain Y/N and you won’t grab your own heating pad that will help you so I will.” He hangs up the phone before you can even open your mouth. John spends the night with you, showering you with love, he does make faces of discomfort when you make a face that you're in pain. But he doesn’t say anything, you told him you're fine, nothing out of the ordinary. Which it wasn’t for you when you got your period. John was so sweet and caring the entire night it really did make you like him even more than you already did. Maybe even fall a little more in love with him, even though it was too early in your relationship to say the “L” word. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks have gone by and your period hasn’t lighted up, if anything it has only gotten worse.  Thankfully Johnny has been very involved with hockey the past two weeks that when you are together, you're at least able to hide the frequent trips to the bathroom, or popping Advil like it’s candy. But tonight John asked to spend the night and as much as you missed your boyfriend you really didn’t wanna admit to him that you’ve been sleeping with a towel under you because you don’t want to ruin another pair of expensive sheets or worse get a stain on your mattress. When you tried to make excuses that you had an early morning tomorrow, he said he didn’t mind waking up with you. When you tried to say that your apartment was messy, he said it couldn’t be as bad as last week when he went to Luke’s apartment since Jack has been in Michigan recovering from shoulder surgery. When you said you didn’t have any food in the house, he asked when that’s stopped you both before from ordering in, and that he will wake up even earlier to go to your favorite bakery tomorrow. Honestly you couldn’t think of any more excuses so you reductively decided to let him come spend the night with you. 

As soon as you got home from work, you took a much needed shower and changed into some sweats. Deciding to attempt to clean your much neglected kitchen since you have been feeling like absolute shit. Starting with the dishes you loaded the dishwasher, and cleaned by hand all your pans. Wiping down all the counters, and doing a quick mop of the small kitchen floor you started to feel better. 

Just as you were dropping the water into the sink and putting the mop away, John buzzes to get into your building. Walking over and letting him up, you speak into the mic to let him know your door is open. Deciding that you're suddenly feeling lightheaded probably because your iron levels are starting to be affected. Trying to make it to the coach, you almost make it when John walks in locking the door behind him. 

“Hey I went ahead and picked up-” stopping mid-sentence when he notices you sitting on the coach hunched over in pain. “Baby what's wrong?” he asks, sliding his shoes off, slowly making his way over to you. 

Sitting up you put the best fake smile you can muster. You say “nothing just needed to stretch out my back is all.” Feeling terrible about lying but you also would have felt more uncomfortable telling John who you’ve only been seeing for six months about your menstrual problems. 

“Okay” although you know he doesn’t believe you, but you’re thankful he’s letting it go at the moment. 

You have never been more thankful that John said he was tired after practice and rather not leave the coziness of your apartment. Deciding on a movie, both of you were cuddled up together on the coach, you only have to pay attention trying to put some pressure on your uterus so it wouldn’t hurt so bad. Now John was only half paying attention because everytime you shifted to try and lessen your pain level, you subtly rubbed against his dick and now he was starting to have what was a semi into a fully hardened dick. Feeling another cramp coming you shifted your body again trying to ease the pain. But before you could, John's hands stopped your hips, his mouth going to the side of your cheekbone. “Baby if you don't stop moving I think my dick might get permanent damage.” he whines, as he leaves little open kisses down your face. 

“Oh sorry” you blush trying not to not to move your hips too much. 

“Or we could let it happen.” As he starts leaving little kisses starting at your temple and then going below your ear, his hand going under your hoodie, inching closer and closer to your waistband. 

“Johnny I can’t” squeezing your eyes shut as hard as they possibly can until you see stars because you really didn’t wanna have to tell him this now. 

“okay.” laying back down against the couch. John would never push you if you weren’t in the mood but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was confused.

“I'm still on my period.” you shyly admit.

Sitting up more now as if his brain is doing the math, “wait didn’t you have your period like two weeks ago?” he questioned. 

“yeah.” Turning your back now to face him better. 

“Baby is it supposed to last that long?” he rhetorically asks. All you do is look down at your hands and he gives a knowing tone. “Baby, are you okay?” he asks gently, trying to hold you in the awkward way you're half laying down, half sitting down on the coach. 

“Yeah this just happens sometimes. I made an appointment with my doctor, okay.” you mumble, obviously wanting to drop the conversation and your thankful thank John lets both of you focus back on the movie. 

As the movie continues you couldn’t help squirming a little, as your back started arguing and your body suddenly felt even more fatigued probably from the low iron levels. Knowing that you should probably get some nuts or something from the kitchen. But all you can do is wince in pain, as it feels like someone is holding a sharp knife inside your stomach and every time you attempt to turn they twist the knife to cause more pain. 

“Baby?” You can hear John’s voice but you can’t process him speaking to you and breathing through the pain. Finally the pain subsides and you answer a very frantic looking John. 

“Yeah.” answering a little more weakly than you would have liked. 

“Can you tell me what hurts baby?” His brown eyes look so soft, full of care and also worry for you. His arms are going under your hoodie to attempt to deeply rub your stomach. His care made you want to cry because how can this boy be so caring. 

“Nothing, just my stomach. And I think my iron levels are low.” attempting to softly smile at your caring boyfriend but the worrisome look he’s giving you back, your smile must have looked more like you were in pain. 

“What do you need? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do you want me to grab your heating pad for the pain? You should probably be drinking more fluids love, can I get you some water?” generally asking.

“No, they aren’t gonna do anything. I have some painkillers in the kitchen and some nuts that should help with my iron levels. If you want my heating pad on my bed but you don’t have to, I can get up and grab it and the nuts.” As you go to get up, he gently places you back on the couch. 

“You must be really sick if you think I’m letting you leave this coach.” He says, leaving a kiss on your cheek and half climbing over you, half pushing you off of him. 

“What am I supposed to do when I need to go to the bathroom?” you yell to him as he disappears to go into the kitchen. 

“We will cross that bridge when we get to it.” He yells back in between the slamming of a ton of cabinets trying to find what he was looking for. 

A small chuckle leaves your lips at how demanding John is that you need to stay on the coach. “Johnny, we're gonna get to that point in a few minutes.” you tease him, although you are getting to that point where you need to change your pad. 

“Okay baby hold on.” He comes back with every single type of nut that you had in the cabinet; peanuts, mixed nuts, cashews, even peanut butter and a giant glass of ice water. Putting everything on your coffee table. 

He bent down so his eyes were on the same level as yours and he didn’t tower over you as you laid on your side on the coach. “Do you wanna go to the bathroom now or do you want me to go grab the heating pad and we can cuddle?” he softly asked, as his hand went to your hip and squeezed it while he waited for your answer. 

“Bathroom.” you whisper, slowly making your way to sitting up again.

“Okay will you please eat something first to help your lightheadedness, I don’t want you to pass out or something.” biting his lips is a nervous habit he picked up years ago back in his prep school years, a clear sign that he was having anxious thoughts due to your physical state. 

Now fully sitting up, you nodded your head no. “Johnny, I need to go to the bathroom.” your stern voice leaving no room for debate. John only let out a sigh as he turned around on the balls of his feet, now his back facing you. 

“Hop on baby.” he says he turns his head to try to make eye contact with you still at this odd angle. 

“What?” letting out a breath that could have passed for a giggle and a sigh mixed together. “I can walk Johnny.” 

“Baby please.” almost sounding like a whine. He continued softly “please let me take care of you.” he begged. 

“Okay.” Putting either leg on Johnny’s he stood up, walking you to the master bathroom. Softly he placed you on your feet when you got there. Quickly leaving so you could use the bathroom. Once you were done everything you needed to, you were leaving the bathroom, expecting to make it back to the living room where you expected John to be. 

But instead as you opened the bathroom door, you saw that John put all the nuts he got earlier, and your glass of water on a tray and it was now sitting on your bedside table on your side of the bed. He was currently turning on your heating pad for you, his back turned to you. 

Out of pure shock at how he was acting you gasped, it was enough for him to turn around in a second, practically leaping towards you asking “baby please can you tell me what hurts?” His arms closing around you pulling you towards him. 

“Nothing” you whispered. “Nothing at all. I just have never had someone care this much is all.” Holding onto him as tight as you could to attempt to share how grateful you were for your boyfriend. 

“Well get used to it.” he whispered in your ear, gently lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. “Please eat some nuts, and if you feel any worse I am taking you to the hospital.” 

“John, they aren’t going to do anything.” Not trying to pick a fight with him, but rather tell him what you already knew, even if your tone came out sounding a little condescending. 

“You don't do that Y/N.” he tried to counter argue but all you did was bring your hand to your face and pinch the skin on the bridge of your nose, trying to rub off the frustration that was starting to build up again. 

“Yes I do.” Slightly raising your voice, despite the fact that John was sitting right next to you on the edge of the bed. “This happens every single year okay. My body gets used to my birth control, I sometimes end up in the ER, occasionally for a blood transfusion an-” Johnny cuts you off before you can even finish the ‘and.’

“A WHAT?” His voice is much louder than it has been all night. “We are going to the ER, you are weak and lightheaded, and your period has been here for two weeks. What's that 14 days, you need medical attention.” 

A sigh leaves your lips as you explain to your very caring boyfriend again how they aren’t going to do anything. “Okay I only needed a transfusion once, and I usually don’t go to the ER till I hit 30 days okay. And it’s not like they give me medicine to stop it. I have to go to my doctor for that, but she’s booked up for a few weeks. It’ll be fine.” Trying to reach for him not sure if it’s to bring him comfort or yourself. “ Johnny, will you come lay with me?” Seeing his beautiful brown eyes soften. “Please” you beg, knowing you probably sound pathetic but you didn’t know if he was mad at you, thinking he could be because you said no to the hospital, still navigating the dynamics of your almost 7 month relationship. 

Nodding his head, he finally slips his shoes off not having time earlier he just realized due to worrying about you. He climbs over, turns on his side facing you and brings his hand to your cheek as you face him. 

“Hi” he whispers. “better y/n/n?” as he still lays over the covers. 

“I wish you could get closer.” you shyly admit. 

“What? Do you wanna lay on top of me baby all you had to do was ask.” Kissing you gently and pulling you on top of him. 

“No I can’t.” trying to get off of him.

“What do you want Y/N” sounding confused but also sighing, probably getting a little frustrated at the scatteredness of your mind tonight. 

“I wanna lay on top of you, but I-.” Taking a deep breath you deepen your face into his shoulder. As quiet as a mouse you spoke, “I’m scared of bleeding through my pad during the night. I don’t wanna get blood on you.” 

“It’s okay baby girl.” 

“No it’s not.” speaking at a normal tone. 

“Y/N. I am telling you that it’s okay, if you want we can use the towel I saw when I was turning your heating pad on.” 

“You saw that.” Almost sounding like you were close to tears, you face now in his neck, too scared to pull away because he would definitely see the embarrassment written all over your face. 

“Hey hey shh honey.” wrapping his arms around you, bringing you comfort for the first time since you exited your bathroom. “Please just let me love you for tonight.” he confessed as he attempted to kiss as if your face wasn't hiding. Shaking your head, yes that’s exactly what he did, turning off your heating pad. He spent the night whispering random little stories into your ear until you fell asleep, John not far behind you as the tiredness of the day lured him to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally today was the day of your doctor’s appointment with your gynecologist. Sadly, it had gotten to the point where you had to call out of work yesterday, because you felt so weak. It felt as if your body was rejecting you, the blood clots that were passing were huge and you felt sick to your stomach. Johnny has been staying at your place for the last week because “ I can’t leave you alone when you're like this Y/N.” So he just came home from morning skate to find you still curled in bed, half consciousness, craving sleep that just wasn’t coming. He practically shoved the phone in your hand to call out. Thankfully you had taken today off because of your appointment because there was no way you would have made it into work today. Slowly getting up to eat something and take a shower before you had to leave, surprised to open your bedroom door and hear the T.V in the living room softly playing along with what smelt like breakfast. Finally begrudgingly making your way into your kitchen you were shocked to see Johnny at the stove making breakfast. 

“Johnny, I thought you had practice.” as you softly pad your feet over to him wrapping your arms around his bare stomach, resting your head on the back of his shoulder blade. 

“I did but your appointment is today.” Speaking in a confident tone, like he didn’t need to be anywhere else. 

“okay..” Questioning your boyfriend's logic but before you could ask any questions he turns around and responds. 

“Listen you have been feeling like actual shit for weeks and I wanna support you by being there. Plus I don’t want you driving after yesterday.” Speaking in a comforting tone, it made you want to cry because you’ve never had someone care so much about why your menstrual cycle was so out of whack. 

“Okay.”

“Oh okay go sit down baby. I made you breakfast.” excited about his creation even though you couldn’t see it. “I woke up early today, to read about foods that are high in iron to help you before we find out what’s wrong. So I had eggs and then I had a spinach salad. And before you start, just eat some of the salad baby. I know you hate raw spinach but I made a dressing that’s supposed to be good and-” Finally looking over to you with your plate in his hand to see tears in your eyes. 

“Oh no babes.” Rushing over to where you were sitting on the bar, abandoning both plates of food in the kitchen. Carefully taking the pads of his thumbs to rub comforting circles on your cheeks and wipe any tears. “baby can you tell me what hurts?” The worry in his eyes so evident as he looked down at you. 

“Nothing.” you choke out, pulling John closer to you to almost standing between your legs as you sit in the breakfast bar chair. 

“Y/N/N I can’t fix ‘nothing.” softly chuckling, he whispered the next words so soft you barely heard him. “Why are you crying honey?” 

Finally removing yourself in the comfort of his chest, “ it’s just no one has ever cared like you before.” Looking up at him. 

“Well you better get used to it baby girl. Cause I’m gonna be here until you don’t want me anymore which I pray never happens.” Both of you share a soft smile, as he glances at your lips and gently leans in to share a gentle kiss.  

John stayed with you the entire day, even at the doctor's office holding your hand as the doctor was explaining how the ultrasound worked to see if you did have any cysts on your ovaries. The doctor was in the middle of asking him to step out so they could do the test, but you just tighten in his grip. “I am not leaving unless Y/N wants me to.” he states. 

“I want him to stay please.” your voice shaking from the level of anxiety you felt in the pit in your stomach. “Please Dr. Smith” your eyes pleading with the middle age white woman. 

“Okay Y/N. The tech will be in any minute okay.” softly speaking trying not to raise your anxiety any higher. John held your hand the entire internal ultrasound whispering in your ear how proud you were doing, even though it was definitely adding to the pain you felt. He held your hand the entire way home. He didn’t say a word, just kept rubbing his thumb over your hand. All you did was stare out the window, your mind replaying the words of your doctor. 

“Well as you know Y/N this could be a couple of different things, you could have PCOS - now what kind we would have to figure out. You could have some other type of hormonal disorder and I can recommend you to a hormonal doctor. But either way Y/N I am going to be honest, based on your previous scans and bloodwork it will be very hard for you to have children one day.” Her eyes went soft out of compassion but all you could think about was how compassionate could they be when you were probably the 100th woman she ever told this to. 

“What’s the percent?” you whisper, your eyes reducing to look at John. Your relationship many be new but you didn’t want anyone else but him and you knew he wanted children. 

“It’s hard to say, we will have to wait for new scans to come in.” Dr. Smith says, as she stadn to exit the room. 

Now in the car staring at the window you let the tears fall, you might have never known if you ever wanted kids before John. But once you met him, you knew you wanted to and the fact that something that you might not have even wanted until a few months ago may never be a possibility makes your silent tears turn into a sob as John parks the car in your apartment’s underground parking garage. He turns off his car, as he buckles his seatbelt and turns to you. But you refuse to look at him, you didn’t want comfort from the man whose dreams of becoming a father you might have just shattered. 

“Y/N.” you could hear John’s scared begging voice, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to turn to him. “Y/N please don’t shut me out.” he whispered, his voice strained with pain that was the final straw that broke you turning your head. John’s head was leaning against the headrest as he looked at you, his brown eyes even darker filled with emotion. After a few minutes of you refusing to speak to him, he asked you a simple question. “Baby do you trust me?” as he leaned closer to you, as if he was on the edge of his seat. Shaking your head, yes, it was as if your body moved in an instant. Struggling to see through your tears, all you could feel was John unbuckle your seatbelt and pull you over the middle console, pushing his seat back as far as it went. Somehow you fit in the small space that was left in his lap. Both of you lost track of time, but eventually you calmed down playing with the strings of John’s hoodie, as he put one of his hands under the back of your shirt drawing random shapes on your skin. 

“Hey Johnny?” Finally feeling like you can speak despite the rawness of your voice and the scratchiness of your throat. 

“Yeah baby?” he whispers, scared that if his voice goes above a whisper you will start pulling away from him like a few minutes ago. 

“Please don’t leave me.” Putting your face as deep as it goes in the crock of his neck. 

“What?” he breaths out. “Why would you even think that?” His hands suddenly squeeze you tighter, almost as if he started becoming scared that if his grip on you wasn’t tight you would slip through his fingers. 

“I can’t be a mom and you wanna be a dad.” Although the logic made perfect sense in your brain all John could do at your confession is scrunch his eyebrows together. 

“Again what?” His hand that was resting on your thigh moving you guided your face to look at him. 

“You really wanna have kids one day but you heard the doctor what if I can’t.” you admit your fear and all it does is give you more anxiety as you await an answer from John.

“Baby is that why you’re upset?” A big smile breaking out on his face, his toothless grin as you nod your head yes. “Baby I have always said I wanted KIDS with YOU. I didn’t even have kids on the radar until that family skate where I saw you with all my teammates kids’. I never even thought about and the idea of leaving you fuck no.” Both his heads going to hold your face. 

“And baby I am pretty sure I said I wanted to have kids one day with you. If we have trouble getting pregant we can do IVF okay. And if that doesn’t work we can adopt I don’t care if our children are biologically ours or not. I just wanna raise kids with you ONE DAY, not today.” John finishes his speech and all you can do is say okay and as you crash your lips in a kiss as a thank you to him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Few Weeks later…..

John held your hand the entire time in the waiting room while your doctor read your results, he practically held you when you went back to the room for the results of your updated bloodwork and ultrasound. The nerves of what was the possible next step was getting to you, you couldn’t stop your leg from shaking. John gently put the palm of his hand on your knee as a gentle reminder that you aren’t alone in this. 

Eventually Dr.Smith walked in, she told you that it was very obvious through your ultrasound that you had PCOS and she found it odd that no one had diagnosed you up to this point. She did tell you that unfortunately there was no cure which you already knew. She spent the next 30 minutes in your room, not answering your questions but John’s. When she told John that a Mediterranean diet was best for women with PCOS he immediately went to Amazon. He lightly demanded that Dr.Smith tell him which cookbooks were the best and from that moment on you didn’t really cook. John always cooked for you or with you, he even changed to a mediterranean diet. Johnny would always make sure he had made plenty of meals that you could easily heat up, or dinners that he froze that you could eat when he was on long roadies. 

Johnny always took care of you, of your intense cycles, crazy mood swings, special diet, working out with you. Although he stopped when he realized you couldn’t stop undressing him with your eyes. Johnny was with you the entire way, you felt relief not only because you had a name for what was happening to you. But because you had a support system within John for the crazy rollercoaster that you were on due to having PCOS. 

Every single day, you find yourself being even more grateful for listening to Johnny all those weeks ago when he asked you if you would just “let me love you.”

[primussavethesemechs]

I want the human/cybertronian life difference to be talked about more in canon

Cuz I mean. it’s RIGHT THERE.

Just a smidgen of true acknowledgment I BEG YOU HASBRO‼️

i mean come on all it takes is someone mentioning how long the wars been going for one of the humans to go “4 MILLION YEARS???? WHAT THE FUCK HOW OLD ARE YOU???”

And optimus or ratchet to be like “…5/7 million?” And all of the humans to have a break down CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUVE BEEN ALIVE SINCE BEFORE THE HUMAN SPECIES EXISTED??? WE WERE MONKEYS WHEN YOU WERE BORN???

And the (woefully uniformed) cybertronians to be like “??? What do YOU mean your species was still evolving when I onlined, how long do you guys live?? A thousand?? A few hundred??”

And the gobsmacked humans to be like “??? NO WE HARDLY LIVE OVER A HUNDRED ITS CONSIDERED AN ACCOMPLISHMENT?? AVERAGE OLD AGE DEATH IS LIKE MID 80s!! TECHNICALLY THE AVERAGE LIFE SPAN IS 72 OR SOMETHING???”

Cue the autobots being like “😨 72??? THATS A CHILD WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT⁉️”

the more attached/emotional bots looking at their charges and realizing that not only are they sparklings compared to them but they’ll die as sparklings too in just a few decades, causing them to straight up have a mini meltdown.

Yeah they’re in a war and they’ve lost plenty of friends, but never to anything as predictable and inescapable as old age.

It’s the seeing-it-coming part that gets to them, the slow dread of knowing that even if they do everything right and keep them out of danger and they stay healthy there’s nothing they can do to stop them from withering away in a couple of decades.

Most versions of bumblebee looking at their charge/friend and realizing his assumptions about the fact that since they’re both still young that they’ll have plenty of time to just. Live together and have fun- are wrong?? Immediately tears. Even if cybertronians can’t cry tears he’s doing whatever the equivalent is and running away to cry in his room. And then running back to snatch them and take them with him cuz HE CANT WASTE A SECOND IF THEIR LIFESPANS ARE REALLY THAT SHORT HES GONNA JUST HAVE TO SPEND 24/7 WITH THEM

This whole concept ESPECIALLY applies to TFP since all of them got their own little human buddy and there’s only like 5 autobots to begin with (of the main season 1 crew) they’ve lost so many of their own so recently, their numbers are already dwindling down to nothing, they’re losing the war and the kids are what’s given them a major morale boost. To continue fighting they need hope, and the kids have kind of become their hope for the future- to know they’ll die off in under a century despite how young they still are is a shot to the spark.

Look me in the eye and tell me bee wouldnt panic hearing that Raf only has 70-80 years to live. LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME HE WOULDNT HAVE SOME KIND OF FIT OVER BEING TOLD THAT HIS LITTLE BUDDY (from a cybertronian perspective) HAS A LIFESPAN EQUIVALENT TO A LATE STAGE TERMINAL ILLNESS DIAGNOSIS. Bee would start treating Raf like a kid with stage 4 cancer 😭

I just KNOW bulkhead would have the worst reaction other than bee, maybe even worse cuz he looks at miko and realizes she’s used up basically a fifth of her entire lifespan already and she’s Still So Little and straight up starts weeping. That’s his DAUGHTER you can’t take her from him so soon it’s not FAIR! He might have to go destroy a canyon wall or something to let some of the anger and grief out

Arcee is Not taking it well either.

She JUST got attached to this one, just got used to a new partner and your telling her that no matter what she does he’s never going to last as long as tailgate of cliff jumper did?? Even if both he and she do everything they’re supposed to do to protect him and extended his life?? Depression time baby

Optimus and ratchet don’t react as much outwardly to the news as the others but inside they’re both 💔💥

These kids have brought optimus a level of contentment he hasn’t felt in vorns, and he sees how bright their spirits shine- Only to now know those precious spirits will burn out in less than a century- it gnaws at him inside, yet another strike from the cruelty of fate

Ratchet is devastated but refuses to acknowledge it, these kids- yes even miko- have become his pseudo grandkids and he’s not ready, nor will he ever be ready, to outlive them. Jacks reminds him too much of a younger optimus, still learning and still hopeful. Miko is… well she has a fire to her that ratchet can appreciate (when she’s not actively annoying him) she’s determined enough to make anything happen which he does begrudgingly respect even if he wishes she wouldn’t just throw herself into any and every situation just for fun.

And Raf…

Raf is his apprentice, the only one of the kids to understand him and listen intently to his stories of cybertron. To show appreciation for his work and his ideas, to Listen and Learn and Improve his inventions. He harbors the most fondness for Raf since he sees so much potential in him, and has taken him under his wing in teaching him cybertronian language and biology.

He feels almost like he’s training a student to take his place- only for the ground to be ripped out from under him to know that Raf will never have the chance to succeed him, will never even outlive him.

A parent should never have to bury their child, and ratchet already feels that he has.

-

TLDR the autobots find out humans have fruit fly lifespans next to them and become one big soggy mess of tears, optimus and ratchet included although they try to have a stiff upper lip about it (and fail to varying extents)

I swear this was supposed to be about any and all continuities but TFP took over completely😭 idk it just fits the best since they focus so much on how attached the bots get to the kids

Edit: btw this was inspired from the fact I found out that the cybertronian equivalent to a year (yes I know technically they have solar cycles which are roughly a human year but what they consider a year vs their lifespan/time perception is different) is a vorn. A vorn is 80 HUMAN YEARS. I saw that and went “oh wow a vorn is like a whole human lifespan!😃” and then I went “OH A VORN IS A WHOLE HUMAN LIFESPAN 😀“

[afro-hispwriter]

Levi Ackerman x doctor!reader

Warnings- implications of child loss

Wc-796

-

“You shouldn’t be going,” Levi says for probably the tenth time. You were tightening the straps on your horse that was connecting to the wagon behind him. 

“You’ve said that.” You say. “We’re not even leaving the walls.” 

“And? Eren might-.”

“And if he does, you will be there to protect me.” Your hand rested on his cheek but he only frowned. “I'm the head doctor, my love, and also none of my subordinates wanted to risk their lives in the walls like this.” Levi raised his hand and grasped your hand and entwined your fingers. 

“We’re riding slow, I don’t care if it takes us a week.” 

“Aw Levi, you should know better than anyone that I don’t ride slow.” His cheeks turned pink. 

“Y/n, please.” 

“Okay fine.” You brought his hand to your mouth and kissed it softly. The voices of his squad made him pull back. He took the reins of the horse and held it steady. You slipped a boot through the stirrup and hoisted up on the horse. 

Levi called over the stableboy who had his horse in hand. He hopped on his horse and walked it beside yours. His squad then followed by mounting their horses.

“Any of you ride above walking the whole way there, you’re off the squad.” 

The Levi squad all raised their eyebrows and looked at each other in confusion. 

“Sir, may I ask why?” Eren asks looking back. All Levi did was stare back. 

“No.” 

-

Nightfall came and there were still at least a few more hours before you made it to the old scout headquarters. 

You grabbed a pole to the tent and fastened it to another. You were grabbing the tent fabric when Levi snatched it out of your hands.

“Hell are you doing brat? You should be sitting down.”

“Levi, I can’t sit and do nothing, it looks wrong to the others.” He rolls his eyes.

“Fuck what they think, you’re more important.” You sighed softly and placed a hand on his cheek. He grabbed your wrist and kissed the inside. 

“Go eat or drink something, please.” He says softly.

“I can’t, Levi.” He closed his eyes. 

“I know, I need to know.”

“Me too, tonight?” His face relaxed and a small smile appeared. 

“Tonight.” 

-

“Eld is in charge, me and Y/n will be back shortly.” Levi holds his arms out for you to loop your arm with. You gave them all a small wave before turning back to look forward. 

The Levi squad all turned to each other with more confusion.

Levi walked you away from their eyes and ears. He held your hand as you stepped over a log to sit on. He sat down right next to you, shoulder to shoulder. 

You dug into your back pocket and pulled out the folded letter then handed it to Levi.

“You open it.” He sucked in a deep breath and took the piece of paper. He started to unfold him when you stopped him by grabbing his wrist. “Levi?”

“Hmm?” He turned to look you in the eyes.

“Please know that I never have or will ever be mad at you for choosing me over our daughter.” Levi closed his eyes and leaned forward to press your foreheads together.

“No regrets.” 

“No regrets.” You pressed your lips to his cheek and his face warmed. He turned his head to look at the paper. He opened the paper and his eyes started scanning it. The beginning had some medical jargon on it that you understood. What you read made you freeze. 

The overall diagnosis was at the bottom.

Congratulations Miss Y/n L/n on your newfound pregnancy. Please return to Wall Sina Hospital as soon as possible to discuss the care plan. 

“Oh.” He says and folds the paper again. 

“Levi.” You say and place a hand flat on your belly. 

“Shh.” He drops to his knees softly into the wet grass. He rested his hands on your knees, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against yours. “This is a good thing, another chance.” He sat back on his heels slightly and grabbed the hand that you had on your belly. “You’re so perfect Y/n.” 

“B-But what if it happens again? What if I'm just not cut out to be a mother?” 

“Don’t say that, this is different.” 

“Levi, I can’t go through that again.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed.

“It’s not going to happen, we’ll do everything we can. I will. I promise. Nothing will take this away from you.” You bent down and knocked your foreheads together, Levi closed his eyes and smiled at the action.

“To us.” 

-

Likes, comments, or reblogs are greatly appreciated🫶🏾

[seireitonin]

“Toby/ other characters would be an abuser!1!” A talk on why that pisses me off

Hi. My name is Seirei. I don’t want to share super personal shit on the internet, but due to certain factors in my life I have BPD. (this is NOT self diagnosis. I have been to a professional and for now they think I have this due to certain trauma/ symptoms I’ve shown) This is part of the cluster B personality type. That being said Toby and many other creepypasta characters either canonically have ASPD/ BPD or it’s a generally accepted headcanon that they do. Now this in itself doesn’t bother me if it’s done well and with research. But the problem is most ppl just slap these labels onto them without doing the proper research. I’ve gotten multiple comments on my TikTok like “well I think Toby is an abuser bc he has ASPD/ BPD” I hate that. I hate that so much. You guys say it’s for “realism” but you’re just demonizing mental disorders. You’re demonizing people like me. In you having your “realism” youre hurting me and ppl in the cluster B personality type. ASPD/ BPD doesn’t instantly make you an abuser. These are personality disorders brought on trauma. Especially trauma with parents/ family. People with ASPD/ BPD know that we’re not well all the time. We’re suffering from disorders that affect our lives. From trauma/ experiences that we didn’t ask for. These are DISORDERS. These aren’t fake edgy illnesses that you can slap onto a character with no thought when you want them to be angsty. For example when ppl say “Toby would be an abuser/ not be capable of love because of his ASPD and he went through abuse in his past” not only are you taking away the depth of his character, you’re just straight up demonizing mental disorders. If you read his story, he loves his mom and sister so much. People with ASPD can love. But it does cause him to be obnoxious and rude. But this isn’t coming from a place of malice. He’s a traumatized man w a disorder! This isn’t me saying Toby can do no wrong and he’s 100% healthy. Toby definitely has issues and I’d never erase that. But to call him an abuser because he has ASPD is so gross and you’re just demonizing ASPD to be edgy without doing research on it or the cluster B personality type in general. As I said before, people with cluster B personality type KNOW we have disorders. We live with them every day. They affect our lives, our relationships, ourselves. We know that we fuck up and what we do isn’t healthy all the time. We KNOW. We’re not doing it because we’re “abusers” we’re suffering and hurting. Again this isn’t me saying that everyone with BPD/ ASPD is a good person who’s willing to do the work and grow. There are bad people with these disorders. But that doesn’t mean everyone who has them are instantly abusive. I’m not an abuser at all. Never have been and never will be. But BPD does affect me and the way I act that can come off as hurtful/ unhealthy and I KNOW THAT. Im always actively putting in the work to be better, like a lot of people with ASPD/ BPD. Just because we have these disorders doesn’t instantly mean we can’t change/ be better. Doesn’t mean we’re not humans with emotions/ trauma of our own. Toby obviously had to do some kind of inner work to be able to be with Clockwork the way kastoway portrayed them. (If it’s canon or not is irrelevant here)When you say shit like “Toby is abusive bc of ASPD/ BPD” that’s what you’re telling us you think of us. You see us and treat us like monsters but then talk about how much you love Toby/ other characters for having our very real disorder. ASPD/ BPD can be seen as two sides of the same coin. They have so many similarities but are shown in different ways. Do proper research before you talk about mental health because you’re stigmatizing/ demonizing disorders that are already looked down upon. Toby does canonically have ASPD and possibly BPD but it’s written into his character pretty well(as well as a 13 year old in the 2010s can do) and now that ppl are older we can actually analyze his character/story correctly. But Jeff and many other characters still aren’t getting this same treatment and they need it.Do better.

[korya-elana]

Your doctor isn't always right.

This'll be a long one. No tl;dr

I see a lot of rhetoric about "doctor shopping" and "your doctor is obviously right, quit trying to claim an illness that isn't yours" and other such nonsense. So I'm here to tell you why these guys suck and why they're wrong.

I'd like everyone to keep in mind that I am studying brain science, I readily admit that, due to my health issues, I could have died without my doctors. I am firmly pro-science and pro-medicine. However.

I was actually going to type up this post a few weeks back and then the universe smacked me with a relevant situation. For some context, I recently moved back to Ohio. I had lived in NY for the past few years due to traumatic circumstances and had not received any care for my disabilities at the time. Considering one of my issues is Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (my joints and connective tissue are loosey-goosey and don't work right) and EDS causes me severe pain from constant rib dislocations/subluxations, I went to go get pain management from a specialist as soon as I was back.

This "specialist" (literally the head of the relevant department) told me there was no way that I had EDS despite my relevant testing and family history, started testing me for the WRONG illness (Marfan's, which you can tell by looking at me I do not have) and then, despite his admittance he doesn't know much about EDS, proclaimed I don't have it and it wasn't worth seeking any help. And he obviously did shit for my pain. He also said this about my proven autoimmunity.

Fast forward to two weeks ago. At the ripe old age of 30 and relatively good health despite my disabilities, I had a real stroke. Not only is this highly unusual for my age and health, it was a very, very specific type of stroke that is highly indicative of a much more dangerous type of EDS than my previous specialists had ever thought. And now I need extremely expensive and hard-to-get approved genetic testing. I have therapies several times a week and in a month I see a neurologist. Specifically, a stroke specialist where I will likely be the youngest person in the waiting room by at least 20 years.

This doctor could have killed me. He could have permanently crippled me beyond repair due to his advice. I legitimately thought I was dying. I have lost parts of my life and activities vital to my sense of self that I will never get back and I am very early on a very long road to recovery. Because my doctor was wrong. And I'll sure as shit be suing him.

So if you think your doctor is wrong, I want you to ignore every single asshole tumblerite telling you that your doctor knows best and knows better than you do. Seek that second opinion. Or your third! Or your fourth! I went through five doctors before I found one that actually knew what he was talking about and could help my dysautonomia symptoms for real. There is merit to talking about diagnosis hunting and being more sure than you should be. But doctors are not perfect. Malpractice kills people. Follow your gut feeling and find someone who knows how to talk about it. Shutting up and ignoring that feeling could get you hurt.

[foreverdolly]

𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 |80's mechanic!austin x best friend!reader

summary: it's starting to look like he might never make it out of the friend zone. austin has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and he's terrified that you'll never see him as anything more than a best friend and protector. with the fear of you one day outgrowing him fresh on his mind, he's now hell bent on getting you to view him in a different light. madly in love and terrified to lose you, austin butler is playing for keeps.

pairings: 80s mechanic! austin x childhood best friend!reader

word count: 4.8k

notes/warnings: SMUT! in part two, virgin!austin. . . need i say more?, i love pining and this fic is testament to that, shaky/hurried hands, who doesn't love a good best friends to lovers fic, he has a deep southern accent, austin is the small town's metalhead and he's swelteringly hot without even trying. (this is going to have to be two parts because it turned out too long after editing. the smut alone is like. . . five pages on google docs.)

The incessant metallic clinging and loud mechanic whirs echoed against the cement flooring of the auto body garage. The sun was peeking just over the trees right outside the open garage doors, the spring sky slowly burning gold and pink. Most of the men were rushing to finish up with the vehicles that they were working on, eager to get home to their families after a long day of work. There was one mechanic though -who might be young, but made up for it with skill- was still elbow deep under the car’s hood, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. He’d only been looking at the car for five minutes and knew exactly what was wrong with it. The elderly woman had gotten her car towed all the way to Travis’ shop after the damn thing stalled out in the middle of the Winn-Dixie parking lot. The young mechanic could see her through the lobby’s windows watching him, her tiny wrinkly hands balled up into nervous fists.

“Aye- Austin?” Travis jogged right up to Austin, placing his hand down on one of the side mirrors as he waited for the diagnosis. 

“It’s not the engine. The transmission,” He pointed towards the old hunk of junk, leaning his head back under the hood to show his boss. “It’s completely shot. She said it will jerk when she accelerates and the wheel will sometimes shake when she’s goin’ fast enough. What’s happening is that it’s slippin’. The damn thing won’t stay in gear. This car is ten years out of date- I mean. . . It's a ‘74. So even if we order the parts-” 

“It’s gonna cost more to fix than it would be for her to just buy a whole new one.” The boss finished for him, sighing when he saw Austin nod his head in agreement. 

The long haired blonde blinked his eyes against the burning sunset, shooing a gnat away from his face as he leaned his hip against the car. He crossed one booted foot over the other as he waited patiently for the man to make a decision. While Travis enjoyed making money, Austin knew that the bastard was above stealing it from little old ladies. With a small huff of defeat the middle aged man began walking back in the direction of the lobby, most likely to break the bad news. He stopped just before he opened the door, pointing a quick finger-gun in Austin’s direction. 

“Are you comin’ over to Mark’s cookout tonight? You can bring your girl.” He called out over the loud noise. 

Austin shook his head before flashing the man a little face of distaste. 

“I’ve gotta go to my dad’s house to grab some of my old shit. Besides- I don’t have a girl to bring.” 

Travis shot him “a face” right back, but one of disbelief. “Yeah, right. A girl doesn’t just bring her friend a hand packed lunch every other day unless she was hopin’ for somethin’ to happen between them..” And before Austin could even defend himself the man was gone, sauntering solemnly over to the corner where the elderly woman was sitting. 

You weren’t the one that was hoping for a chance at romance, but Austin was. He’d rather die than admit it, but his co-workers' words lit a small fire in his chest; a hopeful pyre that didn’t dim. 

The wooden stairs were old and weather worn, the nails rusted with age. Austin always felt a sense of dread when he heard the familiar creaking under his feet, and the fact that he could hear the television droning on from inside of the trailer didn’t make it any better. It meant that he was home, and the blonde knew what that meant. A fight was sure to ensue, and after the shitty day that he had at work, that was the last thing that he wanted to endure. He found that the door was unlocked, per usual. The inhabitant of the rickety death trap didn’t have anything worth stealing. 

“Why are you here?” The middle aged man looked terrible for his age, though Austin blamed that on the endless supply of alcohol and drugs that ran through the man’s system. 

Austin cleared his throat, closing the door behind him with a grimace. He didn’t want to be here, but there were still a few boxes back in his old room that he needed to grab. After that he’d be gone for good, or at least that’s what he told himself anyway. His no-good father was used to relying on other people to save the day, one of those people being his own son. 

He blamed his strong sense of duties on the fact that he was raised in the deep south. “Being a man” was hammered into his skull from the moment of his very conception. Taking care of your family, especially when they are unable to do it for themselves, was considered a must. Austin had always hated his father. In fact, he couldn’t remember a single time in his life when he had felt gratitude or love in any magnitude towards his father. Still, he was a man and needed to provide for his family. . . right? He didn’t want anyone to think less of him for abandoning his father. More than anything, he didn’t want the wrong kind of gossip ending up in the wrong people’s ears.

What was important to him now was getting the hell away from his abusive father. He was old enough to start thinking about what he wanted for himself in the future. He’d always craved companionship with a certain person. . . children were on his radar too. The last thing he wanted was for his druggie father to be in his own kid’s lives. 

The lanky man didn’t fit in the small home anymore, and he hadn’t for years. Both physically and emotionally, he had outgrown his prison many moons ago. He took a few seconds to look around the living room. Now that he wasn’t there to clean up after the grotesque man, the house smelled absolutely putrid. Austin’s nose wrinkled in disgust, eyes dancing along the empty beer cans and overflowing sink. 

“Jus’ gettin’ the last of my stuff.” Austin grumbled, his bulky black boots sticking to the dirty linoleum floors as he tried his best to breeze past the older man’s old recliner. 

A hand reached out, gripping at his wrist to stop him. Austin looked down, the muscles in his sharp jaw clicking as he held back the urge to rip himself out of the man’s reach. He knew that he was too big for the man to intimidate now, but his body still remembered the pain his father had put him through as a kid. 

“Ya talkin’ bout that toolbox?” The man’s voice was gravely, all thanks to the menthols he religiously smoked. Austin could smell the Miller Light and smoke coming off of him now. It was nauseating. 

The blonde ripped his eyes off of the man’s face, peeking off down the hall to see his old bedroom door wide open. He had locked it from the inside and crawled out the window the last time that he was here, taking the spare key with him. It was still tucked away safely in his wallet. His breathing stuttered when he realized that the doorknob had been taken off completely. 

“I need it for work. What did you do with it?” Austin tried to school the deep southern accent out of his voice. He got into the habit of doing that around his father from a young age, desperately wanting to seem as different from the old man as possible. 

“If that’s what yer here for, don’ bother. I sold it.” The young adult’s heart sank to his ass, and this time he didn’t hesitate in ripping his wrist out of the man’s hand. 

“To who? Where is it?” Austin questioned heatedly, staring daggers into the old man’s face. 

The sandy haired man was staring back at the television now, watching old reruns of some shitty old Western movie that must have come out in the sixties. He didn’t answer Austin, too drunk to care and too high to listen. 

“Dad!” Austin’s deep voice boomed, echoing around the filthy trailer. “Where the fuck did you take it? The pawn shop off’a Assembly Street?” That was where his father often sold stolen shit for a few extra bucks. 

That got the other man’s attention. He didn’t take kindly to being yelled and cursed at, especially not by his son. He could always deal it out, but refused to take it. Ray Butler had stopped beating on his son during his Junior year in highschool though, realizing that the boy was now bigger than him. Out of a cowardly fear for his own safety, he stuck to the emotional abuse instead, which only got worse once he didn’t have a true outlet for his frustrations. Austin bristled as he watched the old man glare up at him, taking a long swig from his beer before answering. 

“I took it to Keith’s. If ya needed it so bad, why the hell didn’t you take it with ya in the first place? It’s in my house, so I can do whatever the fuck I want with it.” It was surprising how coherent the man was, especially since he must have been drinking all day long. 

Austin’s father hadn’t had a job in the last seven years, but still managed to scrape by somehow. He was a petty thief whose criminal record stretched all the way back into his boyhood. He had raised the blonde to be the exact same way, but the only thing Austin had truly adopted from his “teachings” was a shared hatred for cops and a scrappy sort of resourcefulness. The other kids that he was forced to interact with at school were the ones that taught him how to fight. They enjoyed taking turns trying to beat the shit out of the town’s poor kid, but once he finally hit his growth spurt in the summer after sixth grade the roles were largely reversed. Nobody messed with him by the time that he had entered high school. He was feared by his peers and just as hated. 

The negative image that he had created served him well though. Not only had he made a name for himself, he had also gained the ability to protect his best friend, which was the only thing he really cared about. Getting the dog shit knocked out of him was one thing, but seeing boys and girls teasing her was a different story. He remembered storming into the girl’s bathroom during his junior year very vividly, yanking up one of popular blonde’s by the back of her shirt. 

“I’m a Butler, so don’t think that I’m above hittin’ a girl.” 

He’d constantly ask you if the bullying persisted even after that, but you always went out of your way to tell him that they had stopped their teasing. Austin was made fun of because he lived in a trailer that should have been condemned long since they originally moved in and barely had enough money to get school supplies every year, but you were picked on because you were perfect. It didn’t make any sense to him, but girls are strange creatures. You made good grades, was the nicest person he had ever met without even trying, and your natural good looks made matters even worse for you. Getting the mean girls to steer clear of you wasn’t the hard part, but keeping the male pervert’s away was an entirely different story. 

It didn’t help that after a long day of putting up with the constant glares, rumors, and telling boys to back off, he’d be forced to come home to incessant tongue lashings. He barely had time to study after taking care of the forty year old drunkard, hence his rotten grades in school. You could only do his homework for him so many times, but hey- you tried. He graduated because of you, at the very least. 

He had landed a job as a mechanic straight out of high school, having been skilled for his age. Who knew that driving a shitty lemon of a car that he constantly had to fix up would lead to a career? He had gotten lucky, which was a rarity in his life. 

Getting his own place was one hell of an achievement, but his past always found a way to come back and haunt him. 

Austin stormed through the connected kitchen and down the hall, sucking in a deep breath before he entered the room. All of the boxes that he had stacked in the corner had been ransacked and picked clean. It was Austin’s fault for thinking that a simple locked door would keep his father out. The blonde could scream over his stolen Iron Maiden and Dio tapes later, for now he needed to focus on the important thing: his tools. 

“You sold them to your crackhead dealer? For what? A bag, right? That was over a hundred dollars worth’a tools!” He screamed from the backroom, kicking an old wooden chair that had been junking up his old room for ages. The thing went flying, hitting the opposite wall with a resounding cracking noise. 

Austin was covered in car oil, smelled like gasoline and sweat after a long day of work, and all he had wanted was to slip in the trailer undetected and grab his things. He had hoped that his father would have been passed out in his room by now so that he could have been in and out without being forced to converse. Nothing ever seemed to go his way. The blonde reached for the metal baseball bat that he still had stuffed under his childhood bed, knocking it against his boot a few times before storming out of the room, pushing past his father and heading straight for the front door. 

“Austin, wait,” The male knew what was coming. The only time his father ever referred to him by his name was when he wanted something. “Can you give me twenty dollars? I need’a pay the power.” 

The baseball bat felt heavy in his hand. He balanced the weight for a second, his jaw clicking as he imagined just how good it would feel to bring it down on top of the other man’s head. If Ray ended up dead, he was sure that he could blame it on a handful of people who he had stolen from or cheated. Austin didn’t need that on his conscience though. So instead of barking back a reply or even pulling out his wallet, he yanked his hand away with a grunt, storming out the door. 

“Jus’ use the money that you got from sellin’ all’a my shit.” He called out before slamming the door behind him, the small and dingy diamond shaped window vibrating with the force of his anger. 

“Is your mama home? If not then I’m gonna use your shower.” Austin gently pushed his way into the house, kicking off his dirty work boots before bounding up the familiar carpeted stairs. 

You blinked in the entryway, slowly closing the front door before turning around to watch him go, the chain from his wallet jingling with his movement. With a small sigh you locked it behind you, following up after him. 

“Well hello to you too.” You teased, watching him open up the linen closet so that he could grab a towel. He was caked with grease, his sun kissed cheeks speckled with black and gray. His black work shirt fit snugly on his form, having shrunk in the wash. At his hip, swinging around with every step that he took, was his black handkerchief. It was also wrecked with engine grease, having been used to clean his hands one too many times that day. He looked devilishly handsome, but he always did. Nothing new. 

“Sorry. Really bad day. Just got back from Keith’s place- he had some of the shit that I left at my dad’s.” He left the bathroom door open as he slipped off his socks, then hurriedly took his shirt off and threw that into the dirty clothes hamper. His small apartment didn’t have a washer and dryer hookup, so he had been doing his laundry at your place for the last two months. 

You didn’t mind, and your mother and father hadn’t noticed either. You sucked at your teeth, turning around to give him privacy. You heard the shower turn on, then the familiar clanking of his chain wallet hitting the side of the sink. Once you heard the shower curtain open and close you turned around, seeing the room empty, his dirty clothes piled neatly in the hamper. You closed the bathroom door behind you as you stepped inside, jumping up on the counter so that you could swing your legs back and forth as you spoke. He seemed frustrated, and you could tell that he needed to talk about it. 

Growing up in a tragically tiny town meant that everybody was always in each other’s business. From preschool to your senior year in high school, every moment was spent with the same exact children. You could count the newer families to move into the small community over the last five years on one hand. Life was slow moving in the old south, and things were horrifically monotonous. You and the blonde had been stuck together like glue ever since primary school, and you didn’t see it changing in the future. 

To say that you knew Austin like the back of your hand was an understatement. Every flaw, quirk and triumph had either been discovered by you, with you at his side, or involved you in some way. In a town filled with mostly elderly folks, kids often found a group of likeminded people and stuck with them for the entirety of their lives. It was horribly predictable of the two of you, yet here you two were, connected at the hip. The bond between you and Austin went above just being best friends. It was something tied to your soul. It wasn’t just hard to imagine a life without him in it, rather it was impossible. 

He didn’t have to tell you that he was angry for you to know that he was beyond aggravated. The restlessness was plain to see. Whether he would be upfront and tell you about the reason or not, you could tell that he needed someone to just sit and listen. Austin wasn’t the kind of person to talk in depth about the things that really upset him. He was more of the “suffer in silence until I inevitably blow up” type. You, on the other hand, weren’t afraid to whine and cry to him about even the slightest of inconveniences. The two of you were polar opposites, and yet it just worked. 

“Keith let you in the house?” You asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow as you watched the steam beginning to curl up and over the curtain. 

Austin let out a humorless laugh, and you could imagine him shaking his head back and forth. You smiled despite the situation, bringing your hand up to your mouth so that you could bite down on your thumb nail. You instantly regretted it, pulling away to see that you had already chipped your freshly painted fingers. 

“A’course he didn’t. I broke into the fucker’s place. Got my tool box back, but the damn thing had been ransacked already. The bones picked clean. I’m out over fifty dollars in tools- checked it once I got back into the car.” 

“Jesus- did he see you? That guy is absolutely insane.” Thankfully, you’d only met the man in passing a handful of times. He was the crazy townee that everybody knew and feared. Keith was the kind of person that you point out to your developing teens to scare them away from drugs and alcohol. “If you don’t want to end up like Ole’ Keith, you better not touch that stuff.” He had a bunch of handmade signs outside of his house with bible scriptures on them, meanwhile the man was dealing meth and coke to make a living. As was the deep south, filled to the brim with religious and moral hypocrisies. 

Either you were a devout Christian or just another local crackhead. Thankfully, you and Austin didn’t fall into either of those categories. You seemed to have made one of your own over the years. 

“He wasn’t home. His truck was gone. The dude left his bedroom window unlocked, so I just ripped the screen off.” 

You used to worry for Austin on a daily basis. The burns and bruises he’d come to school with broke your heart, but no matter how many times you begged your parents to let the blonde come and live with you, they always let you down. You were happy that he finally had somewhere safe to lay his head at night, though he still hadn’t broken the habit of spending most of his down time with you (and you prayed he wouldn’t ever grow out of that habit). As soon as he got off work he was making his way up to your bedroom, often dead tired down to his bones or pissed off. Your parents were gone most of the time anyway though. Your father was a hotshot business man who was away for work most of the time, and your mother insisted on following along with him after the “incident” that happened when you were twelve.

Men who spend most days without their wives and children breathing down their neck usually take advantage of the opportunity. Your father was no different. He was no saint. Then again, neither was your mother. She took most of her frustration out on you after that, and though you knew that her outbursts weren’t a direct cause of anything that you had personally done, that didn’t make it any better. 

Austin was just as much your therapist as you were his. Maybe that was the cause for your codependency. . . either way, neither of you regretted it. It only strengthened the bond, really. 

After Austin was showered and dressed in an outfit that he had left at your house some weeks ago, the two of you found yourselves sprawled out on your bed. You were busy finishing up some homework for one of your classes, and he was reading one of your magazines. He had his head hanging off the side of the mattress, ankles crossed up on one of your pillows. His wet hair was dripping onto your floor. The constant droplets hitting your outdated shag carpet lulled the two of you into a comfortable silence. The two of you didn’t need to talk 

“Where’s a newer one? This one’s a year old.” He suddenly dropped what he was reading onto the floor next to his head, sitting up so that he could face you again. 

You scrunched up your nose, dropping your psychology textbook beside you. 

“That is the newer one.” You told him, to which he scooped it up and off of the floor, turning it over and pointing at the date. 

He was right. It was old. 

It was the June twenty-first issue, the date clear to see on the front: nineteen eighty-four. Bob Dylan was posed on the front in all of his tambourine-man glory. 

“Shit. Sorry, Aus. I thought I handed you the Beatles Anniversary edition.” You started to stand up, but he waved you off. 

“I should probably get going anyway. I have to try to cook myself something. If I don’t eat now then I’ll jus’ go to bed hungry.” 

You had hoped that the two of you could order pizza tonight, but you kept your mouth shut. Lately you found yourself clinging to him a little bit harder than usual. Maybe it was the stress of your sophomore year in college, but you couldn’t be certain. You tried to school the disappointment off of your face as you nodded, standing up to walk him back to the front door. 

“Are we still driving down to see Dave’s show? His band sucks, but he’ll be disappointed if we miss it.” He asked you at the front door, shoving his sock clad feet into his work boots and tying them up haphazardly. 

You slapped your forehead with the palm of your hand, eyes wide. You’d completely forgotten about your friend’s show tomorrow. You’d planned to stay after class and study in the library, but you didn’t mind cramming for next week's test. Austin laughed, the sound causing you to smile to yourself. His laugh was deep, rich and completely contagious. He reached out, his large hand wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face. 

“You forgot, didn’t you?” He leaned down so that he was at your height, his smile practically blinding. 

You sucked in a breath, but nodded your head anyway. It was hard not to notice his beauty in moments like this. He’d always been handsome, but lately you’d been looking a little too closely at that. A sick twinge of guilt soured your stomach, a feeling of what could only be categorized as “betrayal” causing your face to flush. He was your best friend, and if he knew that you were looking at him like that he would probably be disgusted with you. Hell, you were horrified by your own thoughts recently. You tried to blame the odd feelings on your long-standing lack of romance, but you were starting to believe that was just an excuse.

“I completely forgot.” And you felt bad about it. You’d been so busy with your school work, the recent fight that you had with your mother and. . . well. . . Austin. You cleared your throat softly, kicking at an imaginary pebble on the tiled floor to try and distract yourself. 

Austin seemed to notice the change in attitude and put his hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair in the way that he knew you despised. He chuckled when you slapped his hand away, instead moving his hand to the base of your neck so that he could pull your much smaller form against his in a tight hug. He’d always been lean and tall, but his physically demanding job had caused his muscles to fill out. He felt warm and strong, smelling of your shampoo. 

“I’ll drive us tomorrow, alright? Maybe you can get some studying done in the car.” And with that he removed his arms from around you. 

You felt the loss of his warmth like a slap in the face. You let him go though, watching as he bounded down the steps towards his van, his keys jingling in his hand with the movement. He was in higher spirits after spending a few hours in your presence. He felt lighter, like some of the crushing weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. You leaned against the doorframe, peeking your head out just to watch him. 

“I love you! Drive home safe, alright?” You called out. 

Austin couldn’t fight off the blush that raised to his ears, but he turned around and quickly returned the sentiment. You had told him that you loved him every day, but his heart still pounded like it had the very first time. Only these days he wished that you really meant it. 

That you loved him the same way that he loved you. 

[brandileigh2003]

Wolfstar fic recs featuring disability, chronic illness, chronic pain, or characters who are deaf or blind

**please feel free to drop your own fic or recs in comments and I'll add.

~~~please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know. ~~~

orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond divorced wolfstar get back together, flashbacks to remus getting diagnosis, breakup, and Sirius dealing with alcoholism. Raising teddy. Hea.

-love finds a way by littleoldrachel: Jurassic Park exes to lovers

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe: @lavenderhaze get back together, raising teddy, the second has mcd but if you just read first you can pretend he's ok? (I know I have friends who don't touch mcd with 10ft pole)

-(really you can't go wrong with any of peachyybabe, disability, chronic illness and/or mental health/illness in all.

-Forget the World by @amberlink mcd. Sirius is a surgeon, saves remus' life and they marry for insurance. But ofc fall in love along the way as Remus' heart gets worse. this was so good and explored brief as well

-my jokes are my armour, my kindness is my sword by @littleoldrachel remus owns flower shop and meets the gang (seizures and chronic pain

-Like Real People Do by third_crow coffee shop au, also sirius raising harry. So good.

-Tender is the touch (of someone that you love too much) by @purplefiction-ao3 remus has heart condition, written by person with chronic illness themselves

-Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations by TheQueerTailor Sixth year has just started and Remus is barely keeping up. He's just sixteen but it feels like his body is falling apart.

-heat and balance by @eyra also interesting look into Sirius dual role of partner and caregiver

-We’ll Make It Out Alive by wolfstar_addict417 texting fic, raising teddy

-the mayors of simpleton by fruity_individual get back together, remus is blind, raising teddy

-Found Heaven by fierrochase fluffy text fic, so cute together

-Black's Anatomy by @grasslesss greys anatomy fic, remus has lupus

-The Sickness Unto Death by oliverdalstonbrowning university au, remus has cystic fibrosis

-Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot bookshop au, sirius raising harry

-My Only Sunshine by Loua29xx: remus had cancer. Mcd

- Young Blood by viwrites @just--vi road trip au, jegulus main, remus has heart condition (I've been told the 2nd focus more on wolfstar, haven't gotten there yet)

-I Don't Care if My Heart Breaks by orphan_account: bookshop au, remus has cerebral palsy

-Be silent like deep water by @her-smile-forges-galaxies remus is deaf

-Give Me A Sign by@theresthesnitch soulmate fic, remus is deaf. Wip

-Kill Your Darlings by MesserMoon: @sophsicle jegulus main but remus is deaf. Hockey and University au

-Signs of Affection by KittyCargo: remus is deaf, teacher asl

-For the Love of Ducks by viwrites Remus has heart condition

-a lot of Lucigoo89 feature in some way. @lucigoo

-Sweets and Books by Writer_INFJ_2w1: bookshop au, chronic pain

- feel what its like to be new by peachyybabe: boarding school au, sirius is blind

-Rarer Than One in a Million by Sp00nhater wolfstar is so soft and sweet, meet in hospital

-one shot: Another New Potion? by depressed_and_nauseous

-wip: bite the hand by raggedypond: zombie apocalypse

-The Language of Flowers by B1ackCatChatsBack Remus has ra, flower shop

-Good Old Fashioned Lover Boys by Hell_Again: bakery au

-Casimir Pulaski Day by breadpoetssociety: cancer, mcd

-Forever Is a State of Mind by orphan_account (deaf remus)

-Living Like We're Renegades by orphan_account (hoh remus, university)

-Mile High by quidditery chronic pain

-this is not a temporary love (now my heart is in your hands) by littleoldrachel (pining, abandoned as far as I know, but worth it!!!)

-I Didn't Come Here to Party, I Only Came for the Cake by attheendoftheday gbbo Remus with fibromyalgia

-Six Feet Apart by Belle_Lestrange101 pandemic fic, Remus has hiv

-Beyond the Heartbeat by bizarrestars: ultimately a story about grief of regulus, with the middle soft wolfstar falling in love. Remus and illness is featured.

-Small Bones of Courage by Anonymous mcd, please read tags, sensitive topics. Later in life lycanthropy is terminal for remus.

-Fractured Skies by orphan_account coffee shop fic, Sirius is deaf, Remus has epilepsy

-as it was by peachyybabe A story about falling in love with a stranger in a bookstore and learning how to live again.

-An Infinte Ocean orphan_account: teddy has cf, Sirius is amputer

-Blind Werewolf McWolf by orphan_account Remus is blind

-Message from Seat 25A by PleaseDonateBlood 1 shot lupus

-if you were a waiting room. by beaniesandblackcoffee

-Time May Change Me by Kaymardsa lupus

-Underneath It All by Kaymardsa: seizures, texting fic

-i don't want to be your muse by yellowmarshmallow muggle asexual remus with chronic fatigue syndrome

-waiting room by haey1

-Remus lupins guide on how to (not) become a quidditch seeker by Girl_rotting

-**all of my fics have disability or chronic illness rep two of my faves: silence between us (deaf remus + disability) and inevitable (cancer, mcd)**

These are prb widely known but...

-Highland Fling [+podfic] by @picascribitremus has lupus. They meet when Sirius is backpacking

-Text Talk by merlywhirls: Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.

-Blends by rvltn909 coffee shop (sequel names goes into it a lot more)

-A Cup of Sugar by MsAlexWP: both harry and remus disabled

-Discards by picascribit read tags , sensitive subjects: remus has hiv

-A Wolf's Heart by mizdiz : meet in bookshop, remus has heart problems, mcd

-Problems with Narrative Structure and the Rules of Manly Engagement by @xinasvoice : get together fic, remus is an author has fibromyalgia

@just--vi did a tiktok video with these mentioned too that I forgot (give her some love)

-A Wolf, A Bear, A Dungeon Master, and Boy Wonder by ratmom819

-Forever is Definitely Punk Rock by orphan_account (lupus)

-Put Your Head on My Shoulder by jennandblit

-Sunshine on Leith by eyra

Spoons and Stars by Chlobliviate (Rec from glittery-grandma) chronic fatigue and pain, wolfstar in uni

Others who sent me recs:

With different eyes by Shadowmun: blind Sirius is a seer. (haven't read this but def it's on my list) Also check out ao3 or tumblr there are some others that aren't wolfstar @mundrakan

---feel free to check it my main rec list

I shall also direct you to some lists by the @wolfstarlibrarian I'm sure there is some in common but they also have more one shots that I unfortunately usually don't track for the most part (this is amazing account, and not mine, but give them lots of love)

Wolfstar + Chronic Pain, Wolfstar w/Disabilities, Deafness, & Blindness, Wolfstar Hospital AUs, Sick Fic Oneshots, Terminally/Chronically Ill Remus Fics

[natashaslesbian]

We Saved Each Other (Part Seven)

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

Word Count: 1.9k

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

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

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

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

Taglist<3

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

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 9. Don't Know

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Synopsis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Fighting. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2722 words. A/N: Shoutout to @ghosts-girl_ on IG for sending me a Sukuna fanart that was inspired by this fic! Tysm <3!

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

Going back to the hospital always scared me. I always enter the doctor’s office with sweaty hands while imagining the worst in my mind. The white and neat walls, decorated with informative posters about the importance of exercising regularly. The light gray floor was freshly waxed, I could see my scared face reflected in it. There were a few fake plants around to make the place look less intimidating.

The doctor was asking me questions about my lifestyle over the past six months while typing incessantly on the computer perched in the middle of the large desk. The doctor took out the new x"ray that had been taken of my neck and inspected it in front of the light screen. He didn't say anything, he just analyzed her very carefully to not make a wrong diagnosis. My manager, Mei Mei, came with me this time for support despite having a tight schedule. She noticed I was nervous, so she patted me on the back to calm me down.

“Do you think she can fight soon, Doc?" Mei Mei asked him my biggest concern.

“Her neck has completely healed, if she wanted, she could fight tonight,” the doctor answered with a smile.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips at the wonderful news I had awaited for so long. 3 years to be precise. I was out of the octagon for 3 years on medical recommendation so that my neck would heal completely and avoid future injuries. My face was about to cry with joy, so I hid it in my hands. I was about to reborn, I already wanted to return to the gym with my team to train like in the old days. Start again, conquer the battlefield and recover the title that was taken from me.

Mei Mei and I left the office to meet my friend and training partner, Nobara, who was waiting for us along with Mei Mei's younger brother, Ui Ui. I told her the good news, and she hugged me happily. We used to do everything together before I was injured, now we could go back to our routine as if nothing had happened.

“Everyone will be very happy when they see you back at the gym,” Nobara said excitedly.

“Finally,” I sighed heavily jokingly. “Mei Mei, shall I ask you to gather the team?” I asked her nicely.

Mei Mei was in charge of ensuring that my schedule was met without delays. She was the one who organizes my fights, gathers athletes for special training, hires doctors, etc. She was always busy, but she never let me out of her sight. Not only that, but she always took care of my my needs even though Team Black gives me everything I need. I told her not to worry so much in several occasions, but she always responded with “you never know.”

"I'm already on it, darling. Also, since your appearances with Ryomen, there are several sponsors interested in you,” Mei Mei reminded me of the unexpected kiss Sukuna gave me after his crushing victory against Naoya a couple of weeks ago. "Your life will return to normal in no time."

"When do you plan to come back?” Nobara asked me excitedly.

"I don't know yet, I have to talk to Sukuna's manager to agree on a release date and find a replacement,” I replied.

"When you have the date, let me know,” Mei Mei asked me without taking her eyes off her phone.

"When you return, could you bring me something signed by the King of the Ring?". Ui Ui asked excitedly.

"I'll see what I can do,” I answered honestly.

Mei Mei and Ui Ui left after that. Once we lost sight of them, Nobara took my hands to approach my face curiously. I moved away from her face at the unexpected proximity. When I saw her eyes sparkling from excitement, I could imagine what she wanted.

"So… You and Sukuna, huh?" she asked excitedly.

Since living with him, I have noticed that our relationship had improved, but only as a coach-athlete relationship. I haven't noticed that he treats me sweeter, that he gives me flirtatious glances or that he gets nervous when I am around. He continues to act as the same fearsome Sukuna as always.

My feelings towards him have also increased. When I have to watch him to make sure he does the exercises, my mind travels back to the passionate nights we've had together. I can no longer see his hands without thinking about how he holds me by the waist or his face without imagining him moaning my name. He made me blush without even trying, I was fed up. It was so frustrating not being able to do my job well.

"There’s nothing between me and Sukuna,” I answered, removing my hands from the grip.

"Don’t lie to me! Everyone saw that passionate kiss he gave you!" Nobara scolded while pretending to make out with herself.

"Sukuna only did it to annoy Naoya," I answered, trying to downplay it…

…but I couldn't ignore it. After that night, my perspective on Sukuna had completely changed. I wasn't surprised that I fell in love with him, I mean, I have a reputation for choosing the worst possible men. I had to get rid of this feeling as soon as I could. If I could do it while I lived with him, great, but I knew perfectly well that after asking for my resignation, Sukuna would throw me out and this feeling would go away on its own like a cold.

"And how are you so sure that he doesn't like you?" Nobara asked me.

The idea that Sukuna was interested in me in that way was tempting. It wasn't crazy considering we've already slept together twice, and he kissed me on international television, but I highly doubted that was the case. Yuuji had told me that Sukuna wasn't interested in having a girlfriend and I doubt that will change anytime soon.

“Impossible,” I answered without further ado.

"Oh, come on! Men never kiss woman just because,” Nobara argued.

"What do you know know about men? You're a lesbian,” I joked.

"I know how they behave when they like a girl, it's what we have in common," she challenged me.

My heart wanted to believe her, but my mind warned me with red flags that I shouldn't. Being in love is complicated.

At first, I had a hard time adjusting to living with Sukuna. I lived alone for so long that I forgot how it was living with someone. Quickly, I could adapt to his cold attitude in the morning, seeing him walk around the house wet and with a towel wrapped around his slutty waist, and listening to his complaints when we left the gym. Sukuna is the one who pays for everything, the only thing I could contribute to the house was to cook for him from time to time if the cook was not available. I couldn't help but feel like a sugar baby, but that feeling went away every time I used the magnificent indoor pool.

The microwave announcing that my popcorn was ready brought me out of my thoughts. I was preparing myself some popcorn as tonight's fights began. The schedule was not very exciting, except for the main fight. The fight for the heavyweight division championship between Toji Fushiguro and Aoi Todo. A battle between two powerful giants of the UFC.

I returned to the kitchen to prepare the popcorn to my liking in a bowl. I opened the refrigerator to look for the juice I had bought before I got home. Being a high-performance athlete, Sukuna's smart refrigerator only served to store large amounts of chicken breast, vegetables, and sparkling water. If I wanted something with sugar or “chemicals”, I had to buy it myself and hide it so as not to tempt Sukuna's appetite. As I closed the door, I noticed the new dietary regimen that Sukuna's nutritionist had asked hm to follow.

"Chicken, rice, and broccoli for 4 days straight? No wonder he's always so angry,” I thought out loud as I quickly scanned the sheet of paper.

No sugar. Do not eat carbs after 6 pm. Just an egg without yolk in the morning. I knew that Sukuna was a highly disciplined athlete, but going on such a demanding diet was ridiculous. If a nutritionist asked me to follow this regimen like a soldier, I would fire her in no time.

There were so many things I wanted to change about his extreme lifestyle, but I was sure I wouldn't be able to figure it out before my last day. Furthermore, I had to tell him that I would no longer be his coach and that someone else was going to take my place. I didn't know how he would even take the news. I just had to make sure to tell him when he is in a good mood. Who am I kidding? He is never in a good mood, that goes against his personality.

"Fuck this shit!" Sukuna yelled as he reluctantly entered the house. Now was not the right time to tell him.

He tossed his backpack onto the small stool at the entrance, where we kept our shoes and had a mirror for finishing touches. Sukuna slammed the door shut which offended my ears. I just watched him confused while I ate my popcorn.

"Things didn’t go well with the Olympian?" I asked, trying to understand where his anger was coming from.

While I was at the doctor, Sukuna went to the Olympic stadium to have an exclusive sparring with a boxing gold medalist. He insisted that I cancel my appointment to come with him, but I told him that even if I did that, I wouldn't be much help. My specialty is jujitsu, not boxing. I told him that Gojo knows more than me, and he stopped annoying me.

"That idiot asked for a break on the fifth round. Can you fucking believe that?! The best boxer in the nation?! My balls can last longer than that!” He exclaimed in annoyance as he ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

"Could it be because it was training and not a real fight?" I asked before putting a popcorn in my mouth, staying calm. If I got down to his level, he would only get more upset.

"If I had wanted to waste my time, I would have trained with one of the gym's rookies,"Sukuna mumbled.

He sat on the stool and sighed heavily as he unlaced his shoes to enter the house. I could see the helplessness in his eyes at not having the demanding training he wanted. Having a perfect streak of 28 overwhelming victories, he hasn't had a rival who can match his level in years. Always being the winner means that you are not learning, and you are staying stagnant while others moved forward, Sukuna was afraid of being left behind.

I sighed as I understood his anger, putting the bowl aside to approach him. I took advantage of the fact that he was at my level to gently massage his shoulders. Even though I didn't do it with a romantic intention, touching him like that after weeks felt like drinking water in the middle of the Sahara. A temporary pleasure that I had to take advantage as much as I could.

"Do you know what it means that he didn't last more than 5 rounds?" I asked him while massaging his neck.

"I'm not in the mood for your shit," he mumbled, focused on his shoes.

"Let me finish!" I barked. "It means you're better than an Olympic medalist," he looked at me again, calmer now.

"You think?" he asked me, looking at me to deduce if I was saying it out of pity or not.

"Of course! You are the king of the ring, not just in the UFC!" I cheered, giving him a friendly pat on the arm.

"Not everyone can go against the king," he said with an evil smile.

It was one of those few times I've seen him smile like that. I'm glad to know that I could be of use to him outside the gym. I wanted to be the cause for him to smile more often, even if it meant he didn't feel the same way about me. A reality that I was willing to accept for the sake of both of us.

The fight between Aoi Todo and Toji Fushiguro was about to start. The current champion, Toji, entered shining his glorious belt with Welcome To The Jungle by Guns N' Roses in the background while the commentators read his statistics. Aoi, the challenger, Todo looked forward to the fight from the octagon. The crowd was excited, music was blaring from the speakers, and commentators were debating who would take home the belt. It was an important fight that deserved to be seen on the room's beautiful 80"inch screen.

"That son of a bitch," Sukuna snorted behind me, referring to Toji. He was in my robe as always before going to sleep.

"A talented son of a bitch," I joked. "Sit down and watch it with me."

"I'll watch it until I get sleepy," Sukuna scoffed as he sat next to me on the couch.

After formal introductions and the referee's instructions, the first round took place. The two mastodons faced each other face to face in a rain of punches and jabs that seemed to have no end. They were like two bulls striking each other with their sharp horns, making the plaza resonate with the power of their tackles. It was clear that Aoi Todo was a born boxer who did not allow himself to be intimidated by the enormous presence of Fushiguro with those beastly hits. Before Toji could take him to the ground, like he had done in the fight against Sukuna, the bell rang.

“Who are you rooting to?” I asked Sukuna excitedly.

"I do not know, and I do not care." he answered with a yawn. That answer deserved me to throw my empty popcorn bowl at him.

"It's a very important fight! You should know!" I scolded him as the TV went to commercial break. "Todo and Fushiguro have been fighting for the division title for 2 years. Both have won twice simultaneously. This is their fifth fight. It's the fight for 3 out of 3!” I explained. Sukuna shrugged his shoulders, downplaying it the importance it deserved.

"And who are you rooting for?" He asked me to make conversation as they returned to the fight.

"Aoi Todo is a magnificent boxer like you…". At the comparison, Sukuna gave me a killer glance. "Obviously, you are the best," I corrected before he killed me.

"That is what I thought."

"But Toji is a complete fighter, I am team Toji for life," I replied with a proud smile. Sukuna gave me another killing look, this time it was more stern. I really don't learn from my mistakes, huh? "Obviously I'm Team Black before that," I said with a guilty smile.

The champion threw a quick jab, but the challenger easily dodged it. Aoi responded with a combination of quick strikes that made Fushiguro flinched. He stumbled back, but stayed upright. He threw a wild right hand, but the challenger blocked it with his forearm. The challenger took the opportunity to launch a flurry of jabs that Toji dodged like a master. Aoi continued entering her field, causing Toji's back to hit the fence. He threw one last desperate right hand, but Todo dodged it and responded with a left hook that sent the champion to the ground.

"¡No!" I exclaimed upon seeing the knockout.

"Too bad…" Sukuna mocked me.

After my champion couldn't get up easily, the referee ended the fight. The challenger had won the fight with a monstrous knockout. The crowd roared and Todo raised his arms in victory as he ran around the octagon. He had defeated his legendary opponent and became the new champion of the heavyweight division.

"First words after defeating such an important rival?". The interviewer asked Todo as he celebrated with his team supporting him behind him.

Next →

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[sorchathered]

Sweet Home Texas pt. 2

A/N- hey yall just a little something I wrote while I was traveling today, I don’t know how often I’ll get to update after this with the move rapidly approaching but I had some free time. :)

Pairing- Jake “hangman” Seresin x Oc Ella Mcree

Warnings- angst, language

“I can’t do it anymore.” She said with a heaving sob as she crumbled in on herself, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as if she were holding herself together.

“I’ve been with him for almost 20 years, I don’t know any other way of life but this is…this isn’t a life anymore! Happy moments are almost non-existent, I can’t even remember the last time he prioritized me before his job or his friends, hell I don’t think we’ve even been on a date in at least a year. We are constantly biting each other’s heads off, everything I do seems to be wrong or met with a condescending look. I’m not a child! I’m a 35 year old woman with a thriving career! Just because he has some kind of god complex as a pilot doesn’t give him the right to treat me like I’m stupid. I don’t want to be mean, and I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t think I can be married to him anymore. Love shouldn’t feel like this, love shouldn’t hurt like this. If the end goal is to be together for 50 + years and hate every minute of it then I don’t want it. I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Jake but I won’t do this anymore.”

Jane Wyatt had been seeing Ella and Jake Seresin for couples therapy for nearly 6 months now, and in that time their relationship had shown no growth. Jake dug his heels in and fought Ella at every corner, he knew he worked too much and probably could have put more time into them but he maintained that she knew this was his dream and he was trying to make it to the top. One day things would be easier, she just had to wait it out.

Ella felt like she was dying on the vine, she had put her life on hold for Jake for so long and now that she was thriving in her career and fast tracking it to become the cfo of a major company in San Diego suddenly Jake couldn’t handle it. Having her at home barefoot and pregnant had never been a part of their plan, they both knew it but he felt like he was losing control and took it out on her. Accusations of cheating when she worked late hours, nitpicking everything she did, he didn’t mean to make her feel small but something in his subconscious just wouldn’t let it go. The house was burning from the inside out and he was refusing to throw water on the fire, they’d burn down together and stay married and maybe one day they’d crawl their way out of it.

Jane watched the scene unfolding in front of her, Ella falling apart and Jake white knuckling the chair across from her, jaw clenched so tightly it felt like his teeth might crack. She knew what the diagnosis was and it was one of the worst parts of her job.

Being a couples counselor was not for the weak, and she knew that at one point the two people in front of her had been head over heels in love. But this wasn’t the same couple from twenty years ago, and it wasn’t helping either of them to stay on a sinking ship.

“I’m sorry to you both, you’ve spent over half your lives together and I know this is not how either of you saw it going. My professional opinion? It’s time to take a step away from each other, whether that be for a few months or in dissolving your marriage can’t be determined yet, only time can answer that. But neither of you are good for each other right now, and my opinion is unchanged. You need to let each other go and find out who you are without each other. It’s the only way to move forward.”

Jake was out of his seat and out the door before she even finished, Ella crying out for him as he made his way to the elevators and out to his truck. He finally let himself break when he was alone, he knew it took two people to build a life but he had pushed her to this point. He knew she’d been unhappy and he had done nothing to stop it, nothing to change it, just expected her to push through like they always had. He didn’t know who he was without her, he’d never even kissed another woman before her; how was he supposed to just move on? The thought made him feel physically sick. He couldn’t go home, so he called his wingman, Javy Machado to admit defeat and ask for a place to stay.

That was nearly four years ago, Jake replayed that awful afternoon over in his mind in bed after he’d seen you at the bar tonight, you’d looked damn good. Still all fire and sharp wit, and it reminded him just how far apart you’d grown in the time since then. He had hoped if he gave you space to grow and learned the tools he needed to work on himself that the universe would bring you back together, but it hadn’t. That is until you walked in tonight. Circumstances be damned, he wasn’t signing those damn papers. He’d let this go on too long, he was going to romance you and show you just how good things could be, if you’d found someone else well that poor sap would have to go because the two of you were endgame and he knew it. Now he just had to convince you. Easier said than done.

🏷️ Tagging- @attapullman @bobgasm @roosterforme @mynameismckenziemae @seitmai @jessicab1991 @djs8891 @buckysteveloki-me @dontletthemtakeyoualive @crazy-ravioli @dizzybee03 @sarahsmi13s @sunsetsimpsblog @auroralightsthesky @bradshawssugarbaby

[eccentricgrace]

juice jam || IronDad

summary: peter and tony go out for smoothies, they get interrupted by some annoying paps.

tags: fluff, protective tony stark, banter, paparazzi, tony stark acting as peter parker's father figure

wc: 2,563

cross-posted to wattpad under the same name!

"Your pick is fine, I'm not saying it's not!" Peter argued back quickly, his eyes wide. On his own tongue, the cold icy fractals of his far more delicious Pink Starburst smoothie. "I'm just saying it's not the best one on the entire menu, that's all."

Tony held the foam cup of his Chocolate Moo'd in a protective vice grip— which is basically blended chocolate frozen yogurt —and screwed up his face. He lowered his shades with an inelegant poise and a good serving of disgruntlement. "Pete, you're drinking a smoothie that is literally called 'candy in a cup'. I think I'll take my own advice and hold off from the type two diabetes diagnosis for a few more years."

"Okay," Peter said. "Okay. Okay. But you haven't even tried it. I bet you'll admit mine is better if you try it. Ned did. He didn't believe me at first either, he refused to say anything was as good as the strawberry banana one."

"I'm inclined to agree with him just to tick you off."

Peter huffed and put the half-guzzled cup on the table. He pushed it towards Tony. "Just try it. You're so grumpy, Mr. Stark. For no reason."

"'No reason,' he says," Tony mumbled, reaching for the bright pink smoothie. "As if you didn't come into my smoothie haven, my church of juice, and begin spewing— spewing blasphemy."

Peter hid back his smile.

Tony had picked him up from school today. Plans were to have sitcom-takeout night with May, but as they were getting into the car, Peter had gotten a message about her having to work late. With their plans changed, and both of them damp with the autumnal rain that was nasty and cold the way New York rain usually was: of course the best way to waste time and beat the cold was even colder smoothies.

They were at the Jamba Juice at Rockefeller Plaza, which in itself was a feat considering the company he was in. Tony was wearing his "disguise", which really only consisted of his shades, a hat, jeans, and a hoodie pulled over his head. Nobody had noticed them yet.

Peter couldn't help but wonder what people saw when they looked at them in the corner of the store. The way they bantered sometimes, the ease of which they moved in each other's company— they'd been referred to as "father and son" more than once by cashiers and waiters alike. It was a nice compliment, to be seen that close to someone he looked up to. He could keep it tucked very secretly under his sleeve, for no other purpose than to keep him warm.

(And maybe sometimes he wondered how Tony felt whenever someone said something like that. The casual "I'll get a table for you and your son" or "you and your son look so alike!")

Tony took a sip of the pink smoothie, staring blankly ahead of him. Peter watched expectantly for something dramatic— his eyes to light up, his brows to raise, his hands to be thrown in the air with the angry astonishment of being proven dead wrong.

Instead, Tony sighed, put the cup down. Indignantly went to his own drink, furiously sipping at the straw. Peter's smile grew.

Then, finally:

"Fine."

"Yes!" Peter burst with victorious laughter, reaching over the table and taking his smoothie back. "I told you! I told you so. I would never lie about this. It's too important."

"Oh, so this is too important for you to lie, but when you had that little injury the other day, it wasn't?" Tony asked, a dry smile plastered on his face. "Is that what you're saying to me right now? Your poor old man?"

Peter's grin turned guilty, and he quickly went back to finishing the second half of his smoothie.

"Geez," Tony commented with amusement. "Ease up on that straw, you're gonna go into one of your spider-hibernation things. The middle of a Jamba Juice is not the time or place, kid."

"I think it's the perfect time and place, actually. Really truly. I can feel myself getting sleepy just thinking about it."

"Har har. What a comedian you are," Tony said, sliding out of the booth. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket. "You ready to go?"

"Yep!"

Peter wiped his hands of the sticky, watered-down juice that had dribbled down the side of the cup, and stood.

As he did so, the back of his spine began to buzz. He heard a series of shuddering clicks, and he narrowed his eyes to look around the small space.

"What's going on?" Tony asked casually, but there was an undertone of something distinctive in its quality for fixing things. He had clearly taken notice of whatever changed in Peter's face, because this was the voice he only used when they were dealing with Spidey extracurriculars.

Peter forced his shoulders to relax. He scratched at his face, half-covering his mouth, and lowered his voice to say: "Dunno. Someone's watching us."

Tony hummed impassively, but Peter saw his eyes sharpen, he saw the way the heads-up display of his glasses lit up faintly from behind the dark lense. He subtly scanned over the joint, like Peter did, and finally landed on something outside the window.

"Paparazzi," Tony said simply. He sighed deeply and began to shuck off his hoodie and hat. "Alright, kid. Pop quiz, listening? Trade."

"Uh," Peter helplessly let the trash in his hands be taken, and instead grabbed hold of the hoodie that was tossed into his hands. "I guess?"

"Put those on." Tony walked over and threw both of their cups and napkins in the trash. He walked back and smoothed over the wrinkles on his dress shirt. "Do you smile at the camera people?"

"Yes?" Peter guessed, his voice muffling through the fabric of the thick hoodie he was wrestling over his head. (Funnily enough, Tony's old clothes were all slowly becoming his size. It's crazy what a growth spurt and benching the equivalent of like, forty trains on a daily basis can do to a physique.)

"Wrong. Never smile at the paps," Tony shoved the hat over Peter's head, a baseball cap of the Yankees, which he as a proud Queens born-and-raised local would pretend not to be personally offended by. "They're gonna ask you a bunch of questions, are you gonna answer them?"

"No," Peter said, more sure of his answer this time.

"Good job." Tony reached over and fit the hood snuggly down on his head, drawing the strings in a little. "Are you gonna look at them?"

"No—" Peter squirmed as Tony started to mess with the hat to further cover his head. "Mr. Stark, is all this really necessary? I mean, they already got a picture of my face earlier!"

"Believe me, they're not gonna have that picture by the end of the day, and I don't intend to give them anymore." Tony patted him on the shoulder. "Alright, you're all set. Listen, this part is important: stay close to me, don't get lost in the crowd, and absolutely don't listen to anything they say. They're gonna try to provoke a reaction from you. Don't buy into it."

"Okay," Peter gave a smile, while a weak, uncomfortable laugh bubbled out from his chest. "I think I got it. I still don't get why you think they'd care about who I am, though. I'm not the celebrity, you are. They're not gonna care about some—"

"Spider-baby-asking-questions time is over," Tony said, raising his eyebrows. "The more we stand here, the more cameras there's gonna be when we finally get out on the street. Time to go."

"I—" Peter blubbered for a second, and then followed Tony quickly as he turned to the door. Stay close.

Peter learned quickly that Tony walked very fast when paparazzi were involved. He also learned quickly that paparazzi were the closest human equivalent to mosquitos in the summer heat. They swarmed, an entire bloodthirsty group that materialized out of seemingly nowhere, and they were so loud, all buzzy and everything.

He clumsily dodged through bright flashes of the most cameras he'd ever seen, never less than two feet from Tony at all times. If he wanted to, he could count maybe seven different people shouting questions at him, even more shouting at Tony.

"Kid! Look here! Hey! Hey, over here— Hey! Give me a smile! Can you smile for us? Hey, Tony!"

"Mr. Stark! Few questions for the record? What are you doing with a kid?"

"Hey, look over here! I've got a few questions for— Can you spare a minute of your time?"

Tony was valiant as he weaved through the mob, only glancing back every few seconds to make sure Peter was behind him and in sight. The occasional sarcastic comment that brought Peter back to watching YouTube interview compilations way before all of this.

Anyways, he made it look so easy, all of it practiced and seamless, which made sense after Peter remembered that his mentor practically grew up in all of... this. He wondered if Tony would tell him any horror stories of dodging this when he was a kid— he wondered if he even wanted to know.

"Tony, just a second! What happened with the Accords? Have you heard from Captain America?"

"Look over here! Here! Mr. Stark, who is that?"

"Kid, what's your name? Look here for us! Hey!"

He and Tony had almost made it to the car, and Peter was following all the rules. It was harder to not smile than he thought, solely because this whole thing had rapidly become increasingly intolerable, and Peter had a habit of smiling when he was nervous, but he was doing well so far.

In fact, it helped a lot to focus on how miserable it all was, really. When he felt a nervous smile coming on, he just redirected his attention to the cacophony of camera shudders that were assaulting his very sensitive eardrums, or the people yelling over each other, or even the general sound of several shoe pairs scraping over asphalt and concrete. Sensory hell. Don't even get him started on the flashing lights.

"Hey kid, get his attention for us!"

Peter's whole body buzzed loudly, and then he was yanked back by the wrist.

He was fine. Obviously he was fine. Maybe shaken, maybe even the tiniest bit impressed by the audacity, but he was Spider-Man, and he was capable of simply jerking his arm back— which he did.

The facts above apparently didn't matter in the slightest to Tony, because when Peter met his gaze again in the crowd, there was something in it so angry that his lungs went tight with alarm.

"Did you just grab him?" Tony said dangerously, staring at the offender with a blazing fury in his eyes. "Did you fucking grab him? You do that again you're getting amputated by the fucking limb, you hear me?"

He pushed back through the crowd and took hold of Peter's sleeve. Cameras flashed. Peter's face was a bright, embarrassed, cherry red. Tony was breaking his own rule, mortifyingly, just because of him. Oops.

"I'm sorry," came the voice of a man who absolutely didn't sound sorry. "I apologize sir, I just wanted a few lines for an article—"

"Oh, yeah, you wanted a few lines? I'll give you a few lines, buddy. What's your name? What company do you work for? Huh?"

Tony was yelling. Yelling like Peter had never seen him yell before, and the cameras continued to rattle and blind his peripheral vision. He tried tugging at his arm down to get Tony's attention, because the grip Tony had on his sleeve was firm enough to make his knuckles white and he'd surely notice the slightest movement.

"Mr. Stark, we gotta go," Peter tried. "C'mon."

Tony, his face still snarled up like the protective thorn of a blackberry bush, hesitated then. He schooled his expression into something tight-lipped and lock-jawed, and then steamrolled forward to the car.

As soon as they got in, Tony quickly locked their doors, and Peter let out the breath he'd been holding. He reached up and pulled the hood off, then tossed the hat to the backseat.

"Wow. That was—"

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, the stiffness never leaving his posture.

His eyes were darting all over Peter for any other signs of injury or distress. They lingering especially on his wrist for a moment, then Tony reached for his arm gently and scanned over the area with stressed meticulousness. His eyebrows furrowed, his trembling thumb trailing lightly over the skin.

"I'm all good," Peter promised, his eyes wide. "Really, I'm totally okay, no bruises, no breaks."

Tony looked... bad.

His eyes shot back up to Peter's, and there was a lot of guilt in the way they narrowed. If he didn't know any better, he'd say Tony even looked misty. Admittedly, that was horrifying; like it always was watching a trusted adult break down a little.

He always hated it when May cried, but she did cry— after a bad shift, or a sad movie, or one of those pet commercials on television, Peter always heard the tell-tale sniffle at his side, and the way she always would look up as if it would stop the tears. (It never did.)

But that was May, and Tony was not May. This just was different. Tony Stark didn't cry. Tony Stark was Iron Man, he was invincible, surely he wouldn't shed a tear just because some stranger grabbed his wrist a bit too tight.

Peter frowned. "Mr—"

Tony let go of his arm, then turned the key into the engine. He sniffed once, and didn't look back at Peter. "FRIDAY, I want all those articles and photos deleted as soon as they hit the web. Kid, seatbelt on."

"Yes, sir."

The car went silent, except for the anxious drumming of Tony's hands against the steering wheel. After a few long moments, even that had subsided. Tony seemed calm enough now that Peter's curiosity sparked up again.

"You looked at them," Peter spoke up. He looked at Tony through the corner of his eye. "You, uh... talked back to them too. Kinda broke your own rules."

"Yeah." Tony shrugged. "Well, rules kind of mean jack to me if I think you're in danger. Part of the job."

"The job?"

"Taking care of you. Making sure you're safe, protected, happy, healthy, learned, and whatever," Tony said, one hand coming off the wheel to make aimless gestures as he spoke. "You know, the job."

Peter's definitely heard of all of those responsibilities. The thing is, he heard them in some health class lesson, listed as the job description for a parent.

"The job," Peter repeated quietly.

Tony shrugged again. He turned at an intersection. "Yeah. Whatever, I read mentoring books. I'm a good student."

"Right."

"You sure you're okay?" Tony asked again, glancing over, giving him a quick scan. "Adrenaline should be worn off by now, huh? Still nothing hurts?"

"No," Peter said, feeling like he was in some kind of accidental-pseudo-father-acquisition daze. He blinked a few times at the sudden alarm in Tony's expression. "I mean—No, nothing hurts. I'm all good."

The relief again, palpable in the air as Tony relaxed in his seat. He nodded quickly and finally turned onto the Queensborough bridge. "Good. That's good. Alright. Great. This was fun, kid, huh? You had fun?"

"Yeah, definitely," Peter agreed easily. He let himself smile. He felt light. "It was a lot of fun."

"Good," Tony returned his smile. "Let's get you home to Aunt May, then."

"Yeah," Peter sat back in his seat. He turned the radio on and smiled comfortably. "Okay."

[thatdogmagic]

As before, if you don't know what's going on, and aren't up to speed on Tumblr nonsense, you are totally allowed to go do something else. It will be a much better use of your time.

So, yeah.

I know the logs going around. I know how they come off if taken at face value, from the author's 'I did nothing wrong here' point of view.

Disclaimer up front: what I'm about to say isn't excusing aggressive behaviour, or saying that everything I said is wonderful and/or justified. Even if I think HaliteaTiger et al are going out of their way to heap all their responsibility on to me, like they were just innocent babies who couldn't make decisions for themselves, I don't think anyone deserves to be in the blast radius of an autistic meltdown (required viewing), especially of the Fight variety.

Talking about that is how Haligren and I bonded, in fact. Even before I knew it was autism, we talked about our mutual issues with explosive and dissociative anger.

All this is to say, I am not going to lengthen this post even more by pausing to say, every time I defend myself, that I'm aware of my own bad behaviour. Which I know is going to rub some people the wrong way/serve as 'proof' I'm just as bad as they think, but honestly? Don't care. This post isn't for you. You've decided based on vibes-based posting and cherrypicked logs you don't like me, and that's your business. You're welcome to leave now. I haven't given you any method of knee-jerk replying to this anyway.

For everyone else, the tl;dr is this: it should strike people as odd that I am the only person taking any real responsibility for a situation so prone to blowing up (friends working together) that it regularly shows up in every sitcom known to mankind.

To me, it is the height of irony that my main detractor decided to post me saying the r-slur about myself as an indictment, when 'look at this r-slur' has been the thesis of everyone's posts ever since this started. And no, I'm sorry, they know that's exactly what they're doing.

I can say that with confidence, because each one of them was informed, very clearly, and very early on, that I, as an at-the-time 41-42 year old, was going through some serious struggles with a recent autism diagnosis. In the case of HaliteaTiger, she even ignored photographs I'd taken, physical evidence of what meltdowns could do to me in my younger years.

They know this is explicitly attached to a disability, and they're going on record saying they can't possibly believe that's the case. That I must be lying for my own benefit.

In short, that I'm too smart to be that (r-slur). I must simply be malicious, manipulative, abusive instead.

Which is exactly why the word is so easy to reach for in those moments of meltdown.

Doesn't make it right, of course-- not only should I not use the word, I should really be kinder to myself. But I have a hard time being angry with myself for repeating what people have been saying to me for pretty much my entire life, even if they're not saying it outright.

So. Let me be blunt: I am not taking responsibility for other people deciding that they can "handle me," in spite of a downpour of warnings, disclaimers, and full-blown discussions. It can only be my fault for so long that I am exactly who I say am.

What I can take responsibility for is moving too quickly. It was taking that feeling of 'oh this explains everything' that the diagnosis brought with it, and thinking that relief could translate into control. I wasn't in a rational space for how things went with HaliteaTiger - and I was as clear about that as I could have been - but in the end, I was the one who said 'yes' to working together. I was probably the one who had the idea to work together in the first place. And I genuinely thought I could handle it. Obviously, I couldn't, and I meant every apology I gave when that became evident.

(aside: since people will rightfully ask, I have footnoted why I agreed to work with Jackal/Trish in spite of saying I learned from this bad experience with Haligren; if I go into it here I'll veer off track again.)

When I say this is where my responsibilities begin and end, I'm not writing that off as a small thing. I know now that, that soon after diagnosis and reorienting my life, I was going through a kind of 'skill regression.' Whether I knew it or not - that I was effectively a loaded weapon that could go off at any time - it doesn't change the outcome. Besides that, I knew full well what I was capable of. I had years of experience telling me it was probably too soon. 'Wishful thinking,' and the myriad other reasons for poor impulse control, doesn't clear me of that. I'm not going to ask, never have asked anyone to forgive me for it, either.

That said: it is where my responsibilities begin and end.

Keep in mind, Haligren herself posted what was more or less, 'she did exactly what she said she'd do and I can't accept that maybe I had a hand in this by not bothering to listen to her. Again.'

And the same goes for Jackal, albeit to a far lesser extent. We've already covered the fables she's invented for this.

You know, I know I've said it before, but I feel like it's worth pointing out again that this is all this needed to be. 'I thought I could handle this and I couldn't' was all it needed to be, from everyone. There was and is no shame in admitting that. And admitting it to ourselves didn't need to be all bad, either. It certainly hasn't been for me.

ex: It's allowed me to set much clearer boundaries for myself and others; it's let me see a lot of weak points that need the most work; and it's allowed me to just exist more comfortably with others.

There are things outside of my control that can still trigger me, but I've gotten better at pulling back in time, and if not pulling back in time, then lessening severity. Which sucks, sometimes, because it often means pulling back from things I'd rather be doing, because they're too overstimulating. ex: I often have to stop playing flashy video games because the visuals can exacerbate any ambient tension I already have.

It's where 'ah yeah this why this is a disability' realizations come in. Having to literally lay in a dark room to get your nervous system to shut the fuck up. Which I didn't know, couldn't have guessed would be a requirement for getting my Everything to calm down, any more than I could know that certain types of treble played at higher volumes could make me start feeling panicky and fucked up. I didn't even know 'dark room + reading' would work for me until sometime this year.

With all that in mind, I've been trying to be a lot more mindful about surrounding myself with people who I know for sure know exactly what's going on. Who take it seriously, and understand that I'm still learning a lot as I go, making up for a lot of years to a point where I sometimes feel like I'm relearning how to walk, or tie my shoes. They understand that just the process of de-masking is difficult, either because they've done it or are in the process of doing it, themselves.

I will not hold it against them if they witness a meltdown and decide enough is enough. Which is part of this I don't think Haligren et al ever realized:

I don't want people around if I'm genuinely too much for them. Because, and I know this might come as a shock but, I don't want to hurt people. I never have and I never will. I don't get any kind of fulfillment out of the sound of a telephone, or some random visual overload, sending me into an absolute rage and that coming out at someone I care about. That's not cool or comfortable or fun, that's stupid. I don't get any joy or reward from that. There is nothing that has ever positively reinforced it, and until I knew what it was, every single method I could use to fix it just fell completely flat.

I've spent much of my life feeling completely hopeless about it. Which is something else Haligren and I talked about. Something she experienced herself and sympathized with (which I can say is true; funny enough, she took the reactions to some of her own random explosions and posted them as 'proof I'm just mean all the time'). I have my theories as to why I suddenly lost that sympathy - I wasn't 'fun' anymore when my struggles were real, for one - but that's for later.

Still: everything that happened between us, she already knew was possible. That it was a matter of 'when' not 'if.' That it was not me giving myself permission, it was me telling her, this is a thing I struggle with constantly, it does take a certain type of person to work this closely with me on projects I feel this strongly about.

For reasons only she can say, she decided she was that certain type of person. I did not strongarm, goad, or pressure her into that role. I did not ask 'are you sure?' in some bizarrely nuanced way that inferred she had no choice.

Example: I was in what I can recognize now as that 'pre-meltdown' state when she approached me about using Clip Studio's comics formatting. For whatever reason, I snagged on having found the tool confusing in the past and lost my fucking mind about not wanting to use it. I apologized because it was undeserved, at best random and out of nowhere.

I feel like that should have probably let her know what was going on/its severity.

I would check in (or try to check in) with her after stuff like that and I know at least once initiated the 'are you sure?' conversation about working together, if not twice, in response to not catching myself in time. Long before she let me stick my neck out publicly and announce the collab we were working on.

IDK what she thought I was saying there. With any of that. Which was another problem in and of itself but we'd be here for actual pages of text if I had to go into how many times I was willfully misinterpreted as playing 4D manipulative chess or whatever.

So, yes, to say, 'I knew it could be bad but not this bad!!' is plain bullshit. It's bullshit. She knows that. And she knows I have logs of all of it.

Here's the thing tho: I don't *want* to fucking post any logs. Not least because I don't want *my* personal business out there for everyone to see, but I frankly don't want to be known as someone who posts someone else's, esp wrt mental health. Also:

I don't want to continue a slapfight that will only lose us all friends and colleagues, and may even create fractures in the actual community.

Because, let's be clear: that's the *only* endgame here. That is the best possible outcome of all of this: we annoy our peers and our community with a mountain of shit that will only ever boil down to 'we did not work well together, for a variety of reasons, and we all got messy about it.' That is all anyone will come away with after all the logs are posted, and all the shit is slung. Because there is no tell-all beyond that. There are no juicy secrets.

If you guys ('cause I know it'll be copy/pasted to you anyway despite blocks) want to die on that hill, that's your business. I *am* genuinely sorry anyone had to sit through my meltdowns; I truly don't want to have them, ever at all for any reason, and I don't want other people around me to take the heat of them. But that's the only thing I can really apologize for beyond 'I'm sorry it didn't work out' and whatever other *actual* mistakes I made.

We all made plenty. We all lost an opportunity we wanted in each other. We all lost out on telling our own stories quicker, and on telling new ones with one another. Pointing to one of the only people willing to take any responsibility for their part, and proceeding to dump *all* responsibility on their shoulders, will not fix that. Burning me in effigy won't save you from yourselves, either, because if you can't face this, you'll have all the same problems with other people later on down the line. You just will. There's no avoiding that.

As for me, as I said, I pared down who I work with quite a bit, to people who do take me seriously, and understand - really understand - what they're signing up for. Who won't look at me saying 'I don't take hints well so please just be up front with me' and disregard it as nonsense because I'm clearly too smart for that to be a thing.

It does 1000% require being around people who are willing to talk very frankly and openly about every conflict and confrontation. Which are, it should be noted, *not* people who are pathologically driven to pat your ass and say 'it's ok it's fine' when they clearly meant something different.

...

I'm not sure anything good will come of me posting this.

When I say the posts about me have been pretty much nothing but Jackal, Trish, and Haligren saying 'look at this r-slur,' I really do mean it. People gawking and engaging are joining in to do the same. Me making this post just invites even more of that, from them and from spectators.

Nothing good has come of me staying quiet, though, so it needed to be said.

Their disbelief that I could ever be 'that bad,' their unwillingness to listen to me when I talked about my limits, when I gave clear examples of where I might need additional support... I am not taking responsibility for that disbelief, no matter how many internet randos get sicced on me. Not from Haligren and definitely not from Jackal.

So, yeah, sorry/not sorry. I know someone having a visibly 'fight' response is easy to shit on, but, nah, no. I'm not going to apologize for saying I was *owed* an apology from Haligren, either, because I was, and she knows exactly why. She's just not willing to talk about the context of that moment, because that'll take all the wind out of the 'she was abusive and lashed out for no reason!!' sails.

It'll mean taking responsibility for her part in ruining the opportunity I represented for her and her work. Which is probably an uncomfortable thought to sit with, and clearly has been for years, considering how eager she was to jump in on behalf of someone who knew ahead of time that she held a grudge.

I'm sure that'll work out well for her. I wish them well in their future collaboration. Maybe I'm wrong and absolutely none of the problems they had with me will ever surface ever again with other people ever, and everything will be fine.

ps: Going on public record to say someone who told you, more than once, 'I have no interest in you romantically' indicated they actually had a mutual crush on you is rich. 'The thought crossed my mind' =/= 'I have a crush on you too,' so we're clear. If Haligren weren't playing a game of hate-telephone with someone prone to exaggerate, she'd have known that this assumption is part of the problem I had with her.

Same w/ the constant 'I'm not into women' reminders, like I'm incapable of remembering/might fall in love with her at a moment's notice because I happen to be attracted to women and femmes. Which might just be her being awkward but like, PSA: don't do that to your queer friends, it's weird and gross to just assume that kind of thing.

Especially when, in spite of that, it felt like sometimes I was being treated as a surrogate boyfriend on an emotional level. Which is pretty much what she posted outright, so-- thanks for clarifying that for me, I guess. ;p

pps: The only reason I even considered taking a risk on working on something more intense w/ people again, re: starting up with Jackal and Trish at all, was because I got laid off from my job, had severance, and unemployment. I had a window of time I could work hard on big projects and still be pulling in income. They were both given a pretty detailed account of what had triggered them w/ Haligren and also that they had happened/would probably happen, given how new everything was.

It was still a decision I knew could easily go sideways - and tried to account for that - but took the risk anyway. I knew what I was doing, which is, yes, where I explicitly fucked up, and my way of owning that isn't something I can put on display. I can only prove it with how I act and with whom, and that's what I intend to do.

ppps: I'd say more about whatever it is Trish is going on about in all of this but she and I barely spoke personally which makes her going scorched earth honestly pretty laughable and not really worth addressing.

[phantoms-lair]

If your still talking request 16

"Nothing active on the scans." Tsukauchi sighed. "Which means this isn't a continuous effect. Whatever was done is done, which means it's not a simple matter of reversing it. The three of them have lost their memories of their own quirks and anything in their lives pertaining to quirks. Which in today's society is...considerable. We're running their prints through missing persons, but so far nothing."

"They'll need help." Yagi agreed. "At bare minimum a quirk expert to help them rediscovered what their quirks are and to help them gain control over them."

Tsukauchi pursed his lips. "Which wouldn't be a problem except one of them can see a national secret. You know what the Commission would do to get their hands on someone who could do that? We need a quirk expert who can be discreet, isn't in the commission's pocket, and can be trusted if they figure out what 'blond skeleton means."

Yagi was quiet for a minute. "I may know of someone."

Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"My successor. Quirk analysis is a hobby of his and he's quite good at it."

"You want to use a fifteen year old with a hobby?" Tsukauchi asked in disbelief.

"Do you have a better idea?"

And curse it all, he didn't.

~

Takagi did his best not to react as the group entered the hospital room where the three of them had been examined of signs of a 'mental quirk' affecting their memories. The reason was one of the people who entered was none other that the Moonlight Magician himself. On their way to the hospital Conan-kun had shown him a message on his phone pleading with him not to react when he saw Kaitou Kid again. That Kid was protective over his detectives and would likely keep on eye on them in a new disguise. Then Conan changed the message to say he was scared.

Takagi knew the second message wasn't for him. It was incase anyone took a look at the phone later or saw him show Takagi the message. Conan-kun was smart, everyone knew that. But far fewer people knew he could be incredibly manipulative too.

Kid wasn't the only one to enter the room. The other person was an actual kid, maybe a few years younger than Hattori. He also had bright green hair (maybe? Takagi really couldn't trust what his eyes told him anymore).

"I'm Midoriya Izuku," The kid introduced himself shyly and at least the voice seemed to match the age he was seeing. "I'm going to be acting as your quirk councilor until, you know, a real one can be found."

"Oi, isn't sending a kid to do a doctors job a real dumb idea?" Hattori asked Kid accusingly. (Of course, he didn't know that was Kid).

"Oh no, this isn't like a doctor or psychologist." Midoriya assured them. "There's no diagnosis or anything. Just figuring how your quirk works and how to make it work in a way for you. Including turning it off."

"Turning it off would be nice," Takagi admitted. What good was a cop who couldn't trust his eyes? Midoriya cracked open a new notebook.

"Let's break down your quirk. What do you see that has been different?"

"Conan-kun looks older to me. And the man who was with the Detective looked emaciated with dark sunken eyes. Those were the things at least that other people said I was seeing wrong." And Kid, but if Conan didn't want these people knowing about Kid, he should probably keep shut on that. "Hattori-kun looks the same, if that helps."

"The same as he does in your memory, but your memory's been altered." Midoriya said, almost as a stream of thought. "And if you see someone whose variance isn't extreme you might not comment on it, which mean others wouldn't correct you, so there might be more variance you're unaware of." He was scribbling quickly in his notebook, then lifted his head. "Takagi-san, could you please describe me to the best of your ability. Hattori-kun, Conan-kun please correct him on anything he mis-sees."

"Green hair." That would be the one that should be wrong, but no one reacted to his words. Okay. "Green eyes. Freckles. Height about 166cm. White T-Shirt that says 'Jacket', Black Pants. Red Shoes."

"Does anything see unusual about my shoes?" Midoriya's voice quavered, like he didn't want to point it out, but had to for the test.

"I don't see a brand I recognize, but other than that no." What else? "Skinny arms and hands-"

"And that's where I have to stop you." Hattori cut in. "Midoriya's definitely done some intense physical training. Kid's jacked."

Midoriya looked at his own arms in surprise and then a wide grin flashed on his face. While his previous statements where said like a stream of consciousness, this was a mumblestorm of which only a few words like 'perception' and 'reflection' were understandable.

Conan and Heiji shared a look. They didn't know anything about quirk stuff, but they understood the way Midoriya's mind was working. He thought like them, just focused on 'quirk's' instead of cases.

Midoriya broke out of his mutterstorm. "Conan-kun, would you consider yourself mature for your age?"

"Yes?" Conan answered tentatively while Hattori nodded vigorously.

"Do you feel you fit in with people of Hattori-kun's age range as well or better than your peers."

"Why?" Conan asked with narrowed eyes.

"Because when Takagi-san looks at you, he looks at about the same height as Hattori-kun, so I'd guess he's seeing you as the same age."

"I have friends in my age group." Conan hedged. "But I have friend Hattori's age too."

Midoriya was practically vibrating and Conan recognized it well. It was the reaction of solving a case, of having that final clue slot in place. He'd learned to suppress it because with murders, well vibing with excitement wasn't appropriate. He supposed Midoriya was under no such constraint.

"Takagi-san, I believe your quirk lets you see someone as they seem themself! What you see isn't the physical reality, but their own self reflection!" Midoriya gestured to his arms. "This is actually kind of recent. I spent most of my life being told I was a scrawny weakling and I guess that's still in my own self image. Conan-kun sees himself at a age closer to Hattori because he views himself as more mature. All Might...actually it's best if you don't mention that to anyone. Ever." Midoriya looked bashful.

"So about turning it off?" Takagi pressed.

"So usually quirks come in around four. Up until that point kids had no access to them so they get a feel for having their quirk turn on and off and from there learn control. But you've had those memories erased while your quirk was in the 'on' position, so you have no variance to inform you how to turn it off. I think some experimenting with quirk suppression cuffs, or quirk like Aizawa-sensei's would help you find your off switch. After that it's just a matter of practice."

"Okay, Takagi-san. We have the start and a plan for you. What about you, Hattori-kun and Conan-kun? Obviously heteromorphic quirks are out, but have you noticed anything?" Midoriya looked at the other two expectantly.

Conan crossed his arms. "Why are you so sure we have these 'quirks' anyway. Takagi-Keiji could have just been hallucinating?"

Midoriya bit his lip. He couldn't say because Takagi-san had seen with All Might was a literal national secret, he was trying to deflect away from it. "There's sort of a shorthand test. It does occasionally throw false negatives, but never a false positive."

Conan narrowed his eyes. "So even if we fail your 'test', it's not acknowledging we may not have quirks."

"False negatives are rare enough you'd generally be considered quirkless." Midoriya gave a shaky smile. "I was a false negative that didn't manifest my quirk until about a decade later." "And what quirk is that?" Conan pressed.

Midoriya turned to the Doctor he'd come in with. "Can I demonstrate?"

Only Takagi saw how flustered Kid looked in that moment. "As long as you don't break anything." The 'Doctor' allowed.

"At least I'm already in a hospital." Midoriya grumbled, earning concerned looks from all, before he took a deep breath and accessed full cowling, green lightning dancing along his skin. "I'm keeping it at a very low level for demonstration purposes. Otherwise there would be red marks on my skin." Midoriya explained. "My quirk is called Superpower. It stockpiles energy that I can then feed into myself to boost my strength and speed. However my ability to feed myself this energy and adapt to it aren't a one to one ratio and I can -and have - shattered my bones." The green lightning faded. "The best current theory as to why my quirk manifested a decade late is that I would have killed myself if I'd gotten it any earlier."

"So what's this test?" Hattori asked, likely trying to steer the conversation away from the idea of self-destructive superpowers.

"It's called the toe test-"

"Really?" Conan asked dryly.

"Yeah. It's called that because it has to do with foot structure. Shortly after quirks became a thing, one of the other changes in humanity was in foot shape. One less joint in the little toe and a slimmer foot in all."

With an almost offended huff Conan slid off his hospital slipper, only to stare at his foot like he'd never seen it before. The little toe was shorter. The shape of his toeline was different. And for the first time since this started it felt real. "Right, I know whoever messed with your minds made you think this was weird, but it's completely normal. It fact you guys are more normal than me." Midoriya gave a comforting smile. "We'll figure this out." He clicked his pen. "But it is important we figure out what your quirks are. While I'm an extreme case, there is a chance of accidentally hurting yourself or others. Since anything relating to your quirk has been erased, sensations that you would have found normal now might seems unusual. For example, my best friend growing up had sweat that smelled like burnt caramel. It was normal for him, but if all details of his quirk were erased from his mind, he'd find that really weird." "Your friend power was having his sweat smell good?" Hattori wrinkled his nose. "No, his quirk was his sweat was chemically similar to nitroglycerin and he could ignite it at will." Conan, Hattori, and Takagi balanced, and Kid held onto pokerface by the skin of his teeth.

"But it is an example of something fairly innocuous that would give us an idea. Has there been anything like that?"

~

"All Might, I fear in making Midoriya your successor, you've deprived the world of a brilliant quirk councilor." Nedzu said calmly.

"Sorry?" All Might said awkwardly.

"Oh don't be. We'll just have to make sure he's honing that skill as well as his fighting techniques. I am also interested in the child. Of all three of them he seems the most-" shrewd? paranoid? "Well, I find this Edogawa Conan a very interesting person. "Tell me, are we still looking for a place to keep them safe?" "We are." Tsukauchi confirmed. "Consider it taken care of." Nedzu clicked off his phone and walked into the room. He delighted in the way the younger two startled at his appearance, but worried at the way the elders eyes flicked from his actual height to one more normal for a human. Oh dear, had he managed to gain a human self image in trying to fit in with them? He hoped not, but some self reflection may be due. "Principal Nedzu?" Midoriya asked. Oh dear, his thoughts had startled him right out of his usual introduction. "Greetings. As Midoriya-kun has stated, I am the Principal of UA and I'm here to make you three an offer." "What's UA?" Hattori asked. Nedzu laughed. "Oh this shall be delightful. I've never gotten to show my school off to someone who hasn't heard of it. UA is a high school, one that Midoriya-kun here attends. As you three need somewhere safe to stay, I'm opening our doors. We have some on-campus apartments and it just so happened an opening for Hattori-kun in General Education as one of the students there is transferring to another course." "Shinso's transfer is going through already?" Midoriya beamed.

"It would be a waste of time and talent not to," Nedzu said, as if he hadn't just rushed the transfer to make room for Hattori. "It would also be a simple thing to set up a private tutor for Conan-kun once we've established where he's at, educationally." "Why?" Hattori challenged, crossing his arms. "Aint it a weird thing for a school to be offering. And I heard you guys say we needed to be protected, would a school be safe enough?"

Nedzu smiled. He pulled a plastic card from his vest and handed it to Hattori. "I know you have no memory of what this is. Your idea of heroes comes from pre-quirk era comics about vigilantes. Heroes in reality are professionals licensed by the government who have chosen a career dedicated to risking life and limb to protect others. And not only myself, but every member of my faculty have this card. In addition, aside from general education, every other track is dedicated to heroes work in some manner or form. This is a globally recognized school. As such the need for security is paramount, and ours rivals any government facility. UA is here to help and no cost will be spared. That being said, Takagi-san, I would appreciate it if you would be willing to be an addition to that security once you've trained your quirk. The League does have a shapeshifter on hand in one Toga Himiko, and being able to see through her disguises would be a welcome boon."

"In that case we'll want to see if his quirk works through cameras and if it does if it's only through live feed or if it's recording and still photos as well. That might also help to see if it works on psychic impressions or by connecting to the subject's mind like Shinso's does. And if it doesn't that using photographs as a spot the difference could be a good way to train whether his quirk in on or off-" Midoriya's mumbling ceased to be intelligble at this point and he scribbled rapidly in his notebook." "As I said earlier, Midoriya-kun's dream of being a hero robbed the world of an excellent quirk councilor." Nedzu chuckled. "Of course if he'd decided to be a quirk councilor, the world would have lost a great potential hero, so I suppose no winning there." He truned his attention back to the three, retrieving his hero license back from Hattori. "Do you agree to come to my school?" "We don't exactly have a lot of options." Hattori sighed, while Conan next to him looked grumpy. "I became a policeman because I want to help people. If I can keep the students safe I want to do that." Takagi nodded.

"Excellent. We'll have you three moved to the faculty apartments." Nedzu clapped his hands. Paws? "And we'll still put every effort into helping you with you quirks, of course. While Hattori-kun's is still a mystery it sounds like Midoriya-kun has plans for Takagi-san, and having an intelligence quirk myself I can certainly help Conan-kun with his-" "We don't know that!" Midoriya's head shot up and his pen ceased it's rampant scribbling. "Yes, Conan-kun is obvious extremely intelligent, moreso for his age, but that doesn't mean it's his quirk! David Shield is considered on of the greatest genius of my Mom's generation and his quirk just makes his finger bones rubbery! Hatsume and Melissa are also geniuses and one has zooming eyes and the other is quirkless! Yaoyaorozu has an insane ability to store and retain information and her quirk lets her turn her fat cells into other materials. While I certainly wouldn't rule out an intelligence quirk you can't just assume-" It was at this point Midoriya's brain caught up to who he was contradicting and he froze.

Nedzu only chuckled again. "Think of it this way, Midoriya-kun. Like earlier with the toes test, you acknowledged that have a foot structure similar to your own doesn't necessarily mean they would be quirkless, but it would be safe to identify as such. Perhaps Conan-kun does not have an intelligence quirk, but in lieu of signs of another quirk it is safe to assume he does at this moment."

"Yes, sir." Midoriya sad in a tone that was more begrudging acceptance than agreement.

"Now let's get ourselves started on transferring you all to the campus as well as preparing assessments for Hattori-kun and Conan-kun." ~

Once they had left, Kid returned to the hidey hole he'd made for himself and let panic show on his face.

It had been good to see his three detective all doing reasonably well. At least until Midoriya had starting talking about quirks and he'd compared it to his own knowledge of quirk factors and then had to catch the thought because what the hell were quirk factors? Except he knew what they were. In fact he seemed to know a lot about quirk medicine he shouldn't have known. But the doctor he was impersonating would.

Was this his quirk?

Well, he'd need to test if it was. And if he gained the knowledge of who he disguised himself as, then disguising himself as Midoriya might help him analyze it.

Of course he didn't have the resources he did back in his own world (He was sure this was reality transfer. He wondered what explanation his detectives had come up with.), nor the usual amount of time he would have normally spent studying his target. But he could make do. Casual attire, makeup freckles, doing his hair to mimic Midoriya's unruly curls (he couldn't dye it green and he hoped that wouldn't affect it.)

He walked around his hidey hole, letting himself get into character, and then picked up the notebook and pen he'd absconded with. "Kaitou Kid's quirk syncs with his highly trained art of disguise, allowing him to access knowledge and information the person he's disguised as would know. This makes him even more tricky to prepare against for heists, as he can learn what the security measures are by spending some time as Nakamouri or whoever he's targeting."

Ooo, he hadn't had time to process that. Of course that depended on whether they still had these powers- he felt a shift like something unsettling. Right, staying in character, Midoriya would call them quirks.

"Apparently even thinking too much out of character can disrupt the connection. The disguise, being purely makeup would remain, as well as Kid being able to outwardly stay in character, but he'd loose the ability to access new information until he was able to resume the right mentality to activate his quirk again."

Kaito brushed a green curl out of his eyes, then froze, a grin spreading on his face. "Kid's quirk also contains at least a minor shapeshifting aspect, supplementing his trained skill. While useful in a pinch, it should not be relied upon as it would likely fade during a mental 'character break'. And Long term transformations tend to be harder to maintain, like the muscle form All Might uses to hide his injury from One For All-"

Kaito leaned back and digested what he'd just wrote, the knowledge of the impossible quirk and the 200 year old supervillain swirling in his head. His hair turned back to brown as a quiet Kuso escaped his throat.