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divinesouldariax · 9 months

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h/c spell prompts with Cure Wounds and Ashton and Milo? (Romantic or platonic, dealers choice!)

Ahhh this one was nice and cathartic, in a difficult way. Thank you for the prompt! I hope you enjoy it! <3 ~Martin

Content warning: this fic contains some dark and unhealthy thoughts and actions on the subjects of chronic pain, disability, self-endangerment, alcohol use, and guilt. Also, there's blood.

Milo was cleaning up a spill from a mug of coffee in the front room when Ashton walked in through the front door, covered in blood.

Well. Covered was maybe a slight exaggeration, but it was soaked down half of the front of his vest, dripping from their nose, and dried across their hands. He was stumbling, unsteady on his feet.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Milo said, shocked and a little horrified.

“Fight,” Ashton said shortly. They continued to walk in, heading down the hall towards their bedroom.

Milo rushed after him, grabbing the curtain to stop him from closing it behind them. “Are you drunk? You are bleeding. A lot.”

“Yeah.” Ashton sat down, wiping roughly at his nose and barely wincing.

“Fuck. Let me go get some stuff, I can heal–”

“Don’t fucking bother,” Ashton told them.

Milo frowned. They crossed their arms. “Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” Ashton tipped their head backwards and let out a sharp, tired laugh. “Doesn’t fucking matter what you do, Miles, it’s not gonna stop.”

“Stop bleeding? Come on, give me some credit, I can fix a broken nose. And whatever happened to…” Milo gestured at their own collarbone, seeing the gash that was probably the source of most of the blood on Ashton’s.

“No, not the fucking bleeding, I don’t care about the fucking bleeding.”

“Then–”

Ashton let himself fall backwards diagonally across his bed. His chest rose and fell as he breathed just a little more heavily than he normally did. “All of it,” they said unhelpfully.

After a pause, Milo said, “Okay. I’m gonna go get my healing stuff, ‘cause you’re getting blood everywhere.” When Ashton didn’t protest again, Milo went to fetch all of the healing supplies they had built and learned how to use after Ashton’s fall.

When they returned, Ashton had his eyes closed and he didn’t respond to Milo quietly saying his name. It wouldn't be the first time they had come home and immediately passed out drunk–at least it was on his bed this time, and not in the hallway–so Milo set to work healing up the new injuries as best as they could. The jagged cut just below Ashton’s throat was superficial, and his nose wasn't actually broken. Milo took out a handkerchief and used it with a little magic to clean away all of the blood from Ashton's clothes, skin, and the blankets underneath him. They were about to get up and leave him to rest when he spoke.

"See? Doesn't fucking matter."

"What do you mean?" Milo asked.

"Getting hurt, getting fucking healed, doesn't matter. Everything still fucking hurts."

Milo winced. "Ash…"

"I can get beat to shit and I don't even care."

"Oh, gods, Ash–"

"No, and it–it doesn't stop, and I drink and I fucking…punch somebody, just to make it stop for a second, but I know it's gonna fucking…be back. Never gonna fucking leave me alone. It's always going to fucking hurt."

And there was guilt. There was so much fucking guilt that Milo didn't know what to do with it. It was their fault that Ashton had ribbons of metal gluing their shattered bones and flesh back together, their fault that he hadn't been healed right, that he would never be free of the pain and the reminder of the fall, of the Nobodies leaving, of everyone fucking leaving them.

They wanted to get angry. Milo felt the same boiling fury in their own chest that they saw sometimes in Ashton’s eyes, and they wanted to scream, to get rid of the guilt by giving into their worst impulses and telling Ashton that he was fucking lucky to be alive, would he rather Milo hadn't bothered to save them, would he rather be dead–

But they didn't want to know the answer to that. And they didn’t want to lash out when it wasn't Ashton that they were furious with.

"Do you want me to go so you can sleep?" Milo said softly.

"No," Ashton said, their voice hitching and their hand reaching out briefly towards Milo before they pulled it back down to their side. "Fuck. I mean, you can. It doesn't fucking matter."

Already in pain, doesn't matter if it gets worse. Everybody else already left, doesn't matter if you do, too.

Milo let out a quiet sigh, pushing the rage away to deal with another day, and stayed.

#my writing #ashton greymoore #milo krook #prompts #cr fic #critical role fic #author has chronic pain and is currently quite pissed and tired about it #not quite at the 'starting barfights with strangers' level of pissed but yknow i get it #to the other folks who have sent me these prompts: they're all lovely and i will get around to them #eventually. probably. i have to admit i'm not like great at filling prompts these days #but i'm trying! and i'm spinning the prompts around like a washing machine. tryin to get good ideas. it'll happen.#okay goodniiiiight i'm gonna try to pass out now and ignore my own pain

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tup-ika-5385 · 9 months

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Fic Complete!

Chapter Summary:

Hardcase has been in a bit of a funk lately. After finally being released from medbay, he feels like he’s just treading water, only making himself more frustrated as the shoreline gets farther and farther away. What does recovery even look like for him?

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Jesse mused from his seat in the mess hall, scooting over to make room for Hardcase, who was stubbornly juggling both his food tray and his crutches with a determined frown on his face.

“More like the wrong bed entirely,” Hardcase grumbled before he could stop himself. His left arm was shaking with effort as he moved to set down his tray. A few drops of juice spilled before Jesse could intervene, but Hardcase had insisted on grabbing his food himself and gave him a warning look even as the drink sloshed threateningly when he put it down. He growled in frustration, using a few napkins to mop up the worst of it.

Jesse blinked at his uncharacteristic response, eyeing him carefully. “You good, vod?”

Hardcase sighed, wincing internally. Even if he was in a bad mood, he shouldn’t take it out on his brothers. “Yeah, sorry Jess…”

It was Hardcase’s second night sleeping in the barracks, and to his unending frustration, his well-loved top-bunk wasn’t something he could get into by himself anymore. Jesse had been more than happy to swap bunks, but Hardcase couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness pooling in his stomach every time he tried to relax in the lower bunk. Recovery had been so painfully slow, and he’d known it would be, but so many big things had been changing recently. Was it too much to ask for this one thing to stay the same?

Using his good arm, he repositioned his bad arm on the table so it was holding his tray steady. His left hand was mostly recovered, and his elbow could bend by itself without too much trouble, but his shoulder was still stiff and weak in a way that made doing most things difficult.

At least he could put on his blacks by himself now with minimal assistance from his vode, compression shirt only slightly impeding their fit now that most of his bandages had been removed. Patch had walked him through the steps a couple days ago: dressing his injured limb first, then pulling his shirt over his head, shoving his good hand through the sleeve, twisting it to fit, and hoping for the best. He’d managed to get about 2/3 of his armor on himself, and usually Dogma would help him with the rest, but he’d sensed Hardcase’s mood this morning and wisely thought better of it, meaning Hardcase was only partially kitted up at the moment.

His armor was another point of contention, now that he was thinking about it. Fives and Jesse had done a great job preserving his armor, and had cleaned it as best they could after Umbara, but his new backplates and shoulder pad were as shiny as… well, a shiny. His arms still shook with fatigue if he held them up too long, which would inevitably ruin his usual meticulous armor patterns if he ever decided to fix them, but he hadn’t even been down to the firing range yet since his injury, so who knows if it’d ever be needed if he couldn’t ever fight again.

“So I was thinking of going to the training room later, if you wanted to join me,” Jesse offered with a carefully casual tone.

Hardcase gave a self-deprecating snort. “So you want me to sit and watch? No thanks.”

Jesse shook his head. “There’s weights and– and other exercises, you know. And if you brought the hoverchair, we could probably adjust the punching bag for you to go a few rounds. You look like you could stand to punch something, vod.”

Hardcase was silent for a moment, mulling it over in his head. He’d been itching to punch something for nearly a month now, but it would be just as frustrating to go and find that he couldn’t do anything. There were so many little tasks that he never used to think about, like putting on his socks or brushing his teeth that he now had to plan out to the smallest detail. And he tried– he tried to put on a brave face, but nothing was the same, and neither was he.

So he hesitated before finally responding, “I dunno… maybe.”

Jesse gave him a half-smile, accepting his answer for now and pushing down a pang of concern for his brother. “Well, let me know when you decide. I’ve missed my workout buddy.”

“Yeah, me too.” Hardcase responded, returning the smile reluctantly.

_______________

Sitting in a circle in the too-quiet barracks, a couple of troopers from the rehab group busied themselves by playing a game of sabacc. Exempt from duty while they were still recovering, Hardcase and the other injured troopers were left with more free-time than they knew what to do with.

Thankfully, a few of their brothers were off-duty at the moment, so Attie, Tup, and one of Sev’s batchmates had joined the group, even if Dogma wasn’t playing at the moment. It had been fun getting to know the other troopers recently. They’d had a couple assignments together, but Hardcase hadn’t really had a serious conversation with Nax or Attie before the past month. They had some pretty interesting stories of their time in the 501st.

Sev was the one who had originally wheedled them into a game of sabacc, especially now that Patch had made Sev a little card-holder so he could play without too much difficulty. The shiny had a surprisingly good sabacc face, earning himself a sizable stash of sweets. Last round, he’d won with a sylop card and a positive and negative seven, canceling each other out for a winning hand.

Presenting his cards with a grin, he gloated, “What can I say? Seven’s my lucky number.” Cackling, he raised his seven uninjured fingers for emphasis, earning an exasperated sigh from Nax, who had the worst luck of the group.

An atmosphere of easy camaraderie filled the barracks, only to be interrupted by a chirping timer. “Hardcase, time to take your meds.” Dogma said gruffly, barely bothering to look up from his datapad. Ever since being given his new posting, he’d been pretty absorbed in learning all he could.

Hardcase groaned in annoyance before putting down his hand of cards and leaning over to grab his small container of muscle-relaxers and anti-inflammatories from his bunk. Dogma had already refilled his canteen earlier so he didn’t swallow them dry… again.

Distracted by the group’s lighthearted banter, Hardcase leaned back to grab the container with one hand. For a brief second, he forgot– he forgot that his left arm couldn’t support his weight, even while sitting, and he let out a strangled yelp as it buckled underneath him, quickly followed by a wave of sharp discomfort.

Upper body unbalanced and half-laying on his bad arm, Hardcase hissed in pain as he tried to reposition himself. He screwed his eyes shut and yelled, “Kriff!”

Reaction half pain and half frustration, he banged his good hand on the floor, startling the group with his outburst. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see one of the bottles of meds spinning slowly across the floor, coming to a stop in front of Attie.

“You okay, Hardcase? That looked like a pretty good fall.” Tup asked, concerned. He’d noticed Hardcase’s mood this morning too, but it had almost disappeared while they played sabacc, until now, that is.

“I’m fine!” He ground out stubbornly, struggling to get back up on his own. Dogma got up from his perch on a nearby bunk, offering him a hand, but Hardcase batted it away with a growl, insisting on getting back up on his own. Dogma looked briefly conflicted, but relented after another glare from Hardcase.

“There’s pain meds in here too if you need them,” Dogma offered slowly, trying to gauge Hardcase’s response.

“I don’t need pain-meds, and I’m not a kriffing invalid.” Hardcase shook his head, protesting even as he tried to steady his breathing from his half-fall. He tried to ignore the feeling of eyes on him as his cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He hated feeling like this.

The group was silent for a long moment before Nax eventually spoke.

“... the other day, I slipped in the fresher, completely wiped out. Attie had to drag my naked shebs back up onto the shower chair. It was slippery and embarrassing as kriff.” Nax offered gruffly, giving a half-smile to Attie, who was sitting next to him. “... ‘s okay to need help, and to have off-days.”

Attie responded by nudging him with his shoulder before looking back at Hardcase with understanding, knowing what it was to be broken and then learning to remake himself, even if their circumstances were very different.

Hardcase sighed, anger and self-recrimination fading. Nodding reluctantly, he muttered, “Feels like every day’s been an off-day, lately…”

This time Attie was the one to speak, reaching to hand Hardcase back his meds. “Some battles… they stay with you. Teth was like that. Umbara too.”

Hardcase looked up in surprise, taking the bottle from Attie. It was almost an unofficial rule that nobody talked about Teth, especially around Attie. So for Attie to bring it up himself was pretty significant.

He listened intently as the older trooper continued to speak. “We can’t change it, or stop it from changing us, but we can start to move on… just a little bit.”

Attie took a slow breath, lost in thought. Sometimes he’d think back to those times after Teth, even two years later, remembering “anniversaries” of times that he’d been really bad off. Now, he’d just sit back and marvel at how different he felt, compared to how he did then. Things got better; they really did, and they would for Hardcase too.

Before he could stop himself, Hardcase found himself asking, “How do I do that?”

Attie gave him a half-smile before shrugging. “Honestly, a lot of it just takes time… but it doesn’t hurt to lean on your brothers, or let them drag your naked shebs off the shower floor, like Nax here.” He elbowed his brother in the ribs, prompting a good-natured grumble.

Hardcase huffed in amusement before sighing. He wasn’t known for his patience, and this whole recovery process had already taken much longer than he wanted it to. But when it came to his brothers, spending time with them and leaning on them for support, he knew how to do that. So he accepted Dogma’s help unscrewing the caps of his medications, giving Tup a grateful smile as he passed out the next round of cards. Thankfully, his vode had more patience than he did, and were willing to be there for him, no matter how long it took.

____________________

Peeking his head into the fresher, Tup finally located his missing batchmate. “There you are, Dogma! Come on, we’re going to miss first-meal!”

He hadn’t seen much of his batchmate the past couple days, but he’d noticed that Dogma had been a little on-edge. He wasn’t sure if it was his new posting, or the General’s upcoming visit with the rehab group, but he’d been keeping a closer eye on Dogma, just in case.

“In a minute.” Dogma nodded without looking up from washing his hands, gaze laser-focused on the task.

“What are you doing?” Tup had been waiting for him the last ten minutes; usually Dogma left the fresher in less than three.

“Washing my hands.” Dogma stated redundantly, reapplying soap for the second time since Tup came in.

“Well, I can see that. Why are you still doing it?”

Silence.

“Dogma?”

“… it helps.”

“Helps what?” Tup's voice took on a concerned tone.

“I don’t know, it just does. Go on ahead, I’ll meet you there.”

Despite Dogma’s dismissal, Tup stayed in the doorway, watching as Dogma’s hands turned red from the hot water. His normally short fingernails were clipped practically down to the skin, but he still scrubbed underneath them like his life depended on it.

“Dogma, I think your hands are clean enough.” He spoke cautiously, like he’d spook his batchmate by calling him out on it.

Dogma’s breath hitched, and finally, he paused his scrubbing, muscles tight under his blacks. Tup took the opportunity to walk to the sink before shutting the faucet off with careful hands.

Resting his hands on Dogma’s arms, above where he’d been washing them, Tup questioned his batchmate with a quiet tone. “Dogma?”

“… I can still feel it sometimes. Their blood on my hands. Y-Your blood; Krell’s blood…” Dogma’s voice was thready and his eyes refused to focus as Tup guided him to the flimsi dispenser to dry his hands.

Tup gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You never fired a shot at me, vod. My blood was never on your hands.”

Dogma’s voice shook. “B-But I could’ve—“

“And you didn’t, right? It took you some time, but you made the right decision… any blood spilt on Umbara was Krell’s doing and Krell’s alone.” Tup gave Dogma a wobbly smile, trying just as hard to convince himself of that fact, that the troopers he’d gunned down on Umbara weren’t their faults.

When Dogma still looked unconvinced, Tup brought their foreheads together in a light tap. Tup continued, “Remember what Patch’s been saying? Thinking about doing something is different than actually doing it, especially if it’s something you never wanted to do in the first place. It’s like…” He thought for a moment before coming up with an example.

“It’s like…the other day, I wondered what my hair would look like if I dyed it mustard yellow, like that brother from the 212th with questionable hair decisions. That doesn’t mean my hair will instantly turn yellow, or that I’ll dye it that color in the future.” Tup made a face of disgust, expression exaggerated for comedic effect, earning a small huff of amusement from Dogma.

“Sometimes thoughts are just thoughts, vod. They don’t have to become anything more than that– n-not that your thoughts aren’t important to me though.” Backtracking slightly, Tup gave Dogma a sheepish smile. This conversation broached on a lot of topics that really weren’t his expertise, but understanding Dogma was something of a science itself, and Tup had been training in that since he was decanted.

Dogma, for his part, gave a slow exhale, attempting to calm his racing thoughts as he relaxed in Tup’s hold. He nodded at Tup’s statement and tried to accept it himself. “Y-You’re right… thanks, Tup.”

After a moment, he pulled away, looking down with a grimace to examine his hands, still red with irritation. Tup followed his gaze before making a noise and using one hand to nudge him towards the door. He kept his tone free of judgment as he herded his batchmate down the hall. “Let’s head down to medbay really quick. Should probably get that looked at, just in case.”

Dogma frowned, but didn’t fight the gentle hand on his shoulder. Sighing reluctantly, he mumbled, “Lead the way.”

______________________

Hardcase grinned to himself from his seat in the rehab room as he listened to the General’s stories. Apparently there’d been a mission where a magnet attracted his metal prosthetic so strongly that it lifted him up off the ground.

That story had nothing on the time Commander Tano found out about the prosthetic. Apparently nobody had bothered to tell her that General Skywalker was missing an arm until a month later, when she woke up at 2 am to use the fresher and found him pulling one of his fingers off to make an adjustment. Her scream had even woken the Captain, Skywalker reported with a grin.

“Hah! I remember that one, sir! I swear between you and the Captain, she didn’t stop hearing about it for a tenday!” Hardcase laughed; he’d only been a shiny when that happened, but it wasn’t the kind of story you forgot.

Looking around the room, he was pleased to see that most of the other troopers had started to relax after the first few tense minutes of the Jedi walking in the door. The chairs were organized in a rough circle, and Hardcase had positioned himself right next to the General, with Patch on his other side. Given the timing of his injury, Hardcase had missed the worst of Umbara, and while he really didn’t need to be there for the prosthetic advice, he hoped his presence would help the more anxious troopers to relax around their General. After all, it wouldn’t be long before they were deployed again, and they’d have to learn to trust the Jedi again.

When he’d first arrived at today’s meeting, Dogma’s entire body had been rigid with nerves. He hadn’t even given a response to their daily check-in. But as he sat across the circle next to Nax, holding one of the stress balls that Patch had scattered around the room, Hardcase noted that he looked a little better than he had earlier, listening with interest instead of looking trapped in his seat.

So far, the General had told a couple stories to put the group at ease, and then gave some general advice on prosthetic maintenance. Apparently he was supposed to put lotion on his residual limb when he took it off at nights, but he forgot often enough that Captain Rex had taken to carrying extra in his pack when they went on campaigns. He’d also mentioned that some people noticed that they sweat more after an amputation, with their overall skin surface area decreasing, making it harder for them to stay cool. Hardcase had grimaced at that part, wondering if he’d have similar issues with his burns.

Finally, he opened the floor for questions, looking patiently around the room. There were a few moments of nervous silence before Sev asked, “So… do you put on your pants first, or your arm first when you get up in the morning, sir?”

A couple troopers groaned in exasperation, but he retorted, “It’s a serious question!”

Anakin chuckled before responding. “Usually I’ll put on my arm first, so it can help. I’ve tried it the other way around before, and it usually gets caught in my robes.”

Another trooper, a shiny, raised their hand to ask a question, biting his lip with nervousness. “Sir, is it– h-how did you get used to it? Living with a prosthetic arm instead of your own? I-I’ve tried to get used to it, but I still can’t– can’t look at it without feeling like I’m part clanker.” He curled in on himself a little, gaze turned away from the prosthetic arm in his lap.

The General’s tone softened as he answered, “For a while, I didn’t. I was really angry; angry at Dooku, angry at Obi-Wan, and at myself. I was restricted to either the temple or the Negotiator for nearly a month, between waiting for the swelling to go down and starting rehab myself. This was at the very beginning of the war; it felt wrong to just sit around or do flimsi-work while my master was out fighting battle droids.”

A couple troopers nodded in agreement, having felt much the same way for the past couple weeks. He continued. “Even after I got my prosthetic, I didn’t really get comfortable with it until after I accidentally short-circuited the thing. It was in the middle of a deployment, so I had to fix it myself if I wanted to get anything done. And once I got started, I… went a little overboard.” He gave a sheepish grin, removing his glove to show it off. Golden chrome and shiny servos greeted the troopers, looking distinctly Skywalker-esque.

“My arm wasn’t going to grow back anytime soon; not even the Force could manage that. But I started finding ways to live with this one, make it my own.” He gave a reassuring nod to the trooper that had asked the question.

“I also learned a lot of new ways to do things. Honestly, I probably supplement with the Force more often than most jedi, but if it means I can do maintenance on R2 without needing help every two minutes, I’ll take it. No need to make my life harder just because I’ve always done things a certain way.”

The group continued for about an hour longer than usual, asking questions and chatting as they became more comfortable with their commanding officer. Hardcase listened with half an ear, but he kept thinking about the General’s response and the idea of making his injuries, his disability, his own.

Two days later, Hardcase came into the barracks with a new tattoo, a krayt dragon sprawled across his back and snaking down his arm. He straightened with pride as Tup and Sev gushed over the new tattoo. He’d gotten some advice from the General about the tattoo’s placement and design, and he'd checked with Kix to make sure that it wouldn’t set back his recovery, but as he looked at himself in the mirror that night, he gave himself a confident grin. He always knew it was going to be a cool scar.

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illputdownmyrootswhenimdead · 1 year

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hmmm i just saw some Bad Fandom Content

#was looking at pjo content bc i was Thinking about nico again lol #stumbled upon some s0langelo content and decided to look at some fics #and WOW a lot of this stuff is just blatantly fucking ableist #when i was active in the pjo fandom i generally didn’t read other people’s fics #and while i knew there were elements of ableism in the books i thought the fans would do it Less #but. VERY much not so #it’s incredibly ableist to pair off your disabled character with a healer/doctor #a healer/doctor who isn’t even nice to said disabled character and ignores his boundaries #and who abuses his position of authority as a healer/doctor to bend the rules in really unpleasant ways #literally so many s0langelo fics are just savior fantasies and it’s really gross #i noticed these elements in the books but it never clicked how gross they are #and the fandom takes it extra far by majorly infantilizing nico #which is uhhhhh. idk if i even need to say it but that’s a really bad thing to do to a disabled character #(the fandom also ignores the fact that nico canonically has chronic fatigue and probably chronic pain as well)#(idc if rr hasn’t made it explicitly canon nico regularly passes out or needs to rest after using his powers at all)#it’s such a weird bad ship and most people handle it poorly #and yet it’s like the second most popular ship. hate it here #listen i used to like it! it could be cute! but rr and the majority of fans make it creepy and weird and ableist #it makes me so so annoyed that will demanding that nico do certain things and trying to exert power over him through ‘doctors orders’#yeah yeah let’s just have this very disabled character have his medical agency taken from him by his doctor bf #that’s fine and not something that happens irl constantly #anyway it made me upset #generally the way the books and the fandom treat nico makes me sad.#im gonna take him and put him on the top shelf.#dove talks #yes im talking about pjo in 2023. sorry

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chihirolovebot · 1 year

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Venus have you considered watching hxh? Since the author started writing again and promised to end it (the author had chronic pain)

I HAVE i've been wanting to start it for a while actually . i know its pretty long but like . i watched jojos which is like 150 eps so im sure i could handle it + i know its supposed to be amazing !!! i would probably rly like it. i might start it sometime soon !!!!

#thats awful abt the author tho :(#it has to suck so bad to be so passionate abt something but unable to tell it a lot of the time #i respect them a lot for still trying despite their chronic pain!!!#dear venus.

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drchucktingle · 4 months

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THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY

just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.

(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)

i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.

the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.

i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.

PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE

a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)

ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.

months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’

turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes

at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)

as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.

fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.

when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM

SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:

CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:

well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.

PART TWO: RESCINDED

a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask

right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.

of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered

there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA

first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.

second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.

in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.

TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.

i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.

but here we are.

PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?

this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:

when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.

it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?

i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not

my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.

at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense

PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES

it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say

BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?

is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.

if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.

and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?

(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)

i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.

you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.

if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.

so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.

THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.

as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING

AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?

let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.

when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.

if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?

or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.

PART FIVE: GENDERED

this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.

if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned

PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY

there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?

i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'

putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.

i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY

another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions

PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL

i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.

i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)

which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.

if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK

and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME

youtube

KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck

UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:

true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo

to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love

please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it

MOST RECENT UPDATE:

here is more

#love is real #chuck tingle #tingleverse #texas library association #actually autistic #lgtbqia #Youtube

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littlestpersimmon · 1 month

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Heya guys. Sorry for posting this for the billionth time. But maybe if you guys would like to give my posts about patreon a boost it would mean the world to me. I know I post this a lot and I don't take any help I receive for granted. I've only been able to make two new drawings since February. Bc every day I have been working almost 9 hours. I'm sick nearly every other week, my lymph nodes are swollen n I've been feeling incredibly depressed. I am from the global south, in the philippines, government help is near nonexistent. I am the sole caretaker of three disabled people. My mom can not do any housework, she is a full time wheelchair user, she needs care 24/7, insulin, adult diapers and kidneys that are under threat of failing if we don't watch her health, my dad has a chronic heart condition and my sister is autistic with a very low frustration threshold. Both my parents are diabetic, and I am the only person in my family who can work. I currently have three jobs, one in publishing, but I have a morality clause which means the publishing house can take back every single penny I make if I or the author fail to meet certain expectations. Anyway.. I have been working nonstop, my scoliosis is untreated and extremely painful, n for the past few four days I have been rationing a single can of spam and a few potatoes. Would mean the world to me if you guys could pick up a print, or subscribe to my patreon, or reblog any of my old art or send me a tip on ko-fi or anywhere else. Sorry and thank you again. I remake these a lot, but I sincerely don't take any of the help I receive for granted. Thank you again.

My inprnt

My patreon

https://www.patreon.com/littlestpersimmon

My tipping jars

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sleepsong · 1 year

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i am going to burn down the us healthcare system. btw

#my best friend has been without her meds for TWO MONTHS because her doctor. her pharmacy. and her insurance #cannot get their FUCKING shit together. we had to get my dad involved #(he has a very similar chronic illness to my best friend and has been dealing with it for over 30 years)#and over the past few days they have been on HOURS of phone calls with people just trying to get her her meds.#everyone keeps being like oh we can’t solve this! call your doctor. then the doctor goes we can’t solve this! call the pharmacy.#then the pharmacy goes we don’t have insurance authorization! call your insurance. and over and over and OVER again it goes #and i can’t even imagine what would happen if my dad weren’t here to help like she would probably just never get her meds #i am so fucking angry!!!#she has been in debilitating pain for months and these people just keep ignoring her #talk tag

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fyorina · 3 months

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ᡣ𐭩 ALWAYS!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: taking care of a certain suicidal detective is thankless work—or so, that's what everyone says at least, including dazai himself, but you're not as convinced. (wordcount: 1.8k; sfw, mentions of dazai's struggles w depression & self-care; fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: dazaiiiii <3

Dazai chronically neglects his physical health.

You don't know if it's on purpose or not, you don't think it really matters either way, although some of your coworkers beg to differ in the way that they chide you for "encouraging" his behavior when you go out of your way to take care of him when he refuses to do so himself. Kunikida thinks that he’ll never learn to take care of himself if he constantly has you there as a fallback, but you think it's a bit ridiculous to not extend a hand to someone who is clearly struggling. You know Kunikida means well for Dazai, and he often goes out of his way himself to help the man in his own ways, but sometimes it's not as simple as having to "learn to take care of yourself" and you fear that if no one's there to set him straight when he starts to disregard his health, it'll just turn into another suicide attempt and you'll all be scrambling to help him when his body gives in because it's too weak to sustain itself.

Sometimes, he neglects himself in major ways. Frequently, you catch him going all day without eating, sometimes days if you don’t notice it right away, all because he claims that he’s not hungry. He rarely cleans his wounds properly after missions and they end up getting infected, and that’s always a mess because then he starts whining about "this type of death being too painful" and Yosano has to spend hours treating him.

Days like today, he neglects himself in minor ways—ways that he thinks he can get away with because no one cares enough to scold him over every little thing.

No one except you, at least.

It’s bitterly cold outside, the wind is harsh and dry, and the heat in the office has utterly failed. Usually, the president would let you guys go back to the dorms rather than let you suffer in the cold, but the case the office is handling is time-sensitive, and you need to at least set up the preparations for the infiltration mission that’s going to take place in a few days.

Dazai is late, of course, and Kunikida is even more irritated than usual because if all hands were on deck for this, you’d all be able to head back to the dorm earlier. You’re a bit annoyed too, honestly, because your fingers are freezing and your nose is cold, but you figure that Dazai is going to get enough shit from Kunikida anyway.

The door to the office cracks open—speak of the devil, you think to yourself—and your eyes cut upward to where Dazai is peeking into the office, as if to see if Kunikida was waiting for him. Luckily, the president called the irate blonde and Tanizaki into his office to go over the specifics of the infiltration.

“Dazai,” you say, shooting him a flinty look. “You’re late.”

“Bella,” he tosses you a charming smile—one that never works, mind you, but he never fails to try. “I have a good excuse, you see.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” you press. “Let me hear it”

“Ha, well…” he trails off, and your expression drops when he finally steps into the office and you see he’s only wearing his thin tan trench coat.

“Dazai, what are you wearing?” you ask, appalled. You’re bundled up in your winter jacket and a scarf and you’re still freezing—and you’ve worn Dazai’s coat often enough to know that there’s absolutely zero insulation or protection from the winds.

Dazai gives a look that’s eerily reminiscent of a dog that knows it did something bad, brown eyes just a bit too wide and the corner of his lips turned downward. He makes his way over to his desk, right next to your own, and you notice how he’s violently shivering, face bright red and lips so dry and chapped that they seem to be bleeding.

Your eye twitches in irritation, Dazai gives you a sheepish smile and then winces as his bottom lip splits and blood dribbles over his lips.

“You’re an absolute moron,” you hiss and rise to your feet. “Sit down.”

You all but storm over to the break room, rifling through the closet to find the blanket you stored in there a while back for Kunikida when he decides to stay over at the office to finish up work. It’s fluffy, and warm, and entirely not meant for Dazai’s idiocy but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Yosano gives you an amused look when she sees you gathering the blanket in your arms as she passes by the break room.

“You know, I bet he does this just because he likes when you fuss over him,” she says offhandedly, leaning against the doorframe as she watches you kick the closet door back shut.

“Well, it’s either fussing over him or letting him go off and get himself killed,” you scowl, making your way out of the break room back toward Dazai, who’s sitting dutifully where you left him.

“That’s so unfair,” Ranpo immediately complains. “I asked for the blanket earlier and you said no, you can’t just give it to Dazai because he’s your boyfriend.”

“First of all, I can give my blanket to whoever I want, maybe you shouldn’t have stolen my tootsie rolls, Ranpo,” you say, ignoring the way Ranpo raises his chin indignantly. “Second of all, Dazai is not my boyfriend, he is just incompetent at life.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Ranpo scoffs. “The day you two get together is the day the entire office can finally be at peace. We’re sick of the pining.”

You gape, picking up a stray desktop tape and flinging it at Ranpo’s head. Ranpo dodges with a cackle, letting it soar past him and into the wall. You glare at him and return your attention to Dazai, not even saying a word as you bundle the fluffy blanket around him until it’s fully covering his thin, shivering form.

You notice that his neck is still uncovered, both skin and bandages visible—red and frigid from the wind outside. Brows knit together, you unwrap your scarf from your neck and wrap it around his neck neatly.

You think it’s a bit cute the way he’s staring up at you, bundled in thick blankets and your scarf, but you’ll never admit that.

You frown as your eyes dart down to his chapped, bleeding lips. You dab at the wet blood with a tissue before letting out a sharp sigh, wandering back over to your desk and grabbing your lip balm from your drawer. You take a step closer to Dazai again, he watches curiously as you reach out to tilt his head up.

The skin of his cheek is cold beneath your fingers and you stroke it absently, trying to warm it up a bit, before you bring the lip balm up to your lips, biting the cap to take it off before dropping it back down in your hand and placing it in your pocket.

Dazai is uncharacteristically quiet as he watches you bring the lip balm up to his lips. You trace the outline of his lips with the balm, gentle over where they had cracked from dryness and the cold. You can feel his warm breath against your hand and you try to ignore his proximity because no, Dazai is not your boyfriend, but sometimes you wish he is—for all of his quirks and as much as he frustrates you, you care for him desperately.

And when he’s like this, pliant under under your touch as he lets you take care of him, watching you with wide eyes filled with an indecipherable, adoring emotion… You feel it all the more intensely.

Your touch lingers for a moment as you finish coating his lips with the lip balm before you finally let your hands fall to your sides.

“Not dating my ass,” Naomi snorts from across the room, still blatantly watching the two of you, as if you were some reality entertainment. You scowl at her and throw a pen in her direction, she only giggles and tosses you a wink.

You shake your head and take a seat back down at your desk, putting your lip balm away and about to go back to working on the research for the infiltration mission. Before you can focus, Dazai scooches his chair closer to you.

His cheeks are still flushed pink from the cold, hair tousled from the wind, and his lips are shiny from your lip balm. He leans in a bit and you raise your eyebrows a bit in amusement.

“Yes?” you ask quietly, lips tilted up in a small smile.

Dazai doesn’t answer for a moment, his eyes are glittering in a way that you know is dangerous but you don’t move away like you probably should. Instead, you stay still as he leans in a bit more and captures your lips in a soft kiss. It’s brief and gentle, no more than two or three seconds long, and his lips are terribly chapped and tasting of your lip balm, but it has your heart stuttering in your chest and your face feeling hot. You can hear Naomi gasp in delight, clapping her hands together, Yosano let out a deafening whoop of a cat call and Ranpo cry a loud finally!

Dazai leans back—his eyes are still shining and his lips are turned up. He looks as if he’s about to say something but before he can, the door to Fukuzawa’s office slams open and Kunikida storms out of it: “You shitty waste of bandages! You’re two hours late!”

“Not now, Kunikida!” Yosano says loudly, intercepting the man before he can rip Dazai right out of his chair. She pushes him toward the break room, throwing the two of you a grin and a wink. You shake your head a bit in amusement.

The moment is ruined, but Dazai is undeterred, finally speaking up.

“Let me take you out later, bella?” Dazai asks, voice quiet and teasing as he rests his chin on his hand, leaning on his desk as he looks over at you.

You laugh. “The only place you’re going later is back to your apartment because you’re going to be sick, Dazai.”

Dazai pouts, over-exaggerated and dramatic but then he amends, a bit more softly, “Take care of me later?”

Your smile is gentle now as you reply with: "Always.”

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai fluff #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fluff #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs fluff

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tamberella · 2 months

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Congratulations on your author debut, I'm so excited for your book!! 😇💕

Would you consider talking about the whole process of becoming a book illustrator /children's book author?

Thank you so much, I really appreciate it!! And I'd be happy to share the process!

It all started for me with my 3dTotal artbook. 3dTotal is a small publisher in the UK, and they mainly focus on collections of artists' work. They use Kickstarter to fund each book, and my agent (the amazing Seth Fishman at Gernert) discovered me through the Kickstarter for my artbook Windows to Worlds!

He asked if I had any interest in working on graphic novels or picture books, and I had already been thinking about picture books! He found me my first picture book project with Penguin Workshop, Mother of Sharks, written by the awesome Melissa Cristina Márquez, which came out last year!

While I was working on Mother of Sharks, I was also talking with him about developing The Bakery Dragon, based of course on this painting, which was (and is) one of my proudest artistic moments.

For a little background on the painting, I painted it right after a really challenging couple of months medically - I was dealing with medical complications from my chronic illness for about 6 months, and I wasn't able to finish a single painting the whole time, I was just too exhausted from hospital visits and being in pain. That painting was the first piece I was able to actually complete (both emotionally and literally) in about half a year. So it always held a really special place in my heart, and I really wanted to keep living in that little world. I think there's something in it that is very special to me, about being outside in the cold, seeing warmth and love through a glass barrier, and wanting desperately to reach it.

With Seth's guidance, over a couple months, I developed a pitch for it. The script developed slowly alongside the designs for characters, locations, etc.

(Early version of Ember above! He has changed a bit!)

I thought I had already read a lot of picture books, I've always loved them, but I read hundreds and hundreds during this process. There is something uniquely fun and challenging about telling a complete narrative in 48 pages (which is already a long picture book, many are 32!) My book also pulls some elements from comics, such as speech bubbles, which I found to be incredible assets for humor and character development.

My pitch included designs, some early example spreads, and a rough script with story beats and jokes! My agent took it out into the world, and the publisher we ended up going forward with was Knopf, an imprint of Penguin Random House! I absolutely love the Knopf team and the beautiful books they put out! My editor, Katherine Harrison, really understood what I wanted to accomplish and has been so incredibly helpful in her guidance!

And from there... through rewrites, dialog adjustments, and lots and lots of drawings, it became a book! I'm happy to answer questions about the process! I'll leave you guys with a little preview from the interior of the book! (And of course you can pre-order it here, gotta learn the author skill of always including that link haha!)

#ask #book making process #author process

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

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Bend Until You Break ~ Part 1

Thank you for this request from the lovely @anemptypuddingcup for a Yandere!Law that the Reader goes to for help with a serious health condition, only for Law to take a liking to her... I swear I will write sweet Law one of these days, but for now please enjoy Yandere!Law. This contains !!DARK CONTENT!! so please check the warnings, and skip this one if it may be triggering or uncomfortable for you. This one's for us hypermobile baddies out there. 🥄

Pairings: YANDERE!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist

Word Count: 2679

Ao3 Link

Summary: You have struggled with mystery pains and injuries for most of your life, and had resigned yourself to suffer after every doctor told you there was nothing wrong. But when a world renowned doctor/pirate comes to town to offer aid in exchange for supplies, you decide to give hope one more chance. Maybe you'll finally find a doctor you can trust.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Dubious Consent, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Yandere, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Hypermobility, Medical Examination, Medical Trauma, Medical Conditions, Chronic Pain, Injury, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Doctor/Patient, Abuse of Authority, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to be Added, (Reader is described as having hair "above her shoulders" that she can brush)

A/N: This chapter is SFW, but I'm adding in many tags to start out with since this mini series will contain heavy/dark content. PLEASE heed the tags, and do not read this fic if you aren't comfortable with these topics. Some of these medical issues may or may not have come from personal experience 🙃

Extra A/N: I am not a doctor, and this is not meant to be educational, or to contain any health advice. Please seek a health professional. Hopefully you'll have better luck than Reader 🙄

I should just leave. He’ll just tell me the same things. It’s a waste of time.

You were close to convincing yourself to walk away, especially as the discomfort and pain of standing in one place for so long started radiating up your body.

The line got shorter, and you stretched and bounced, trying to hang onto a sliver of hope.

“Hello, how’s your day going?”

A talking polar bear in an orange jumpsuit waved at you from behind a small table, handing you a clipboard.

“I-I’m well thanks. How…”

“Good! It’s always nice when the captain can help people. He’s the best! Just fill that out, and he’ll be with you soon.”

Looking at the form brought you out of the shock of speaking to a bear. Instead, it filled you with intense frustration, until you were practically boiling in your skin.

‘Rate your pain from 1-10.’

How the fuck am I supposed to rate all the different types of pain I’m in on any given day?

‘Circle the parts of the body where you are experiencing pain.’

I could put circles over so many things. Might as well circle the whole fucking chart, and have them call me a liar.

‘List your diagnoses, and family medical history.’

I don’t have one, doctors never find anything. Mom has some similar symptoms, but they're so mild that she's never tried to get a diagnosis. You’re the one who’s supposed to figure this out!

You resisted the urge to vent your anger onto the page, bullshitting your way through instead. You tried to write in the most convincing way to get this new doctor to take you seriously.

This new doctor. “The Surgeon of Death.” A fucking pirate.

But he was supposed to be the best, and he was here on your shitty little island for a couple of weeks, trading medical treatment for the town's supplies. You had already heard reports of “miracles,” that he could perform surgeries in an instant, that he could fix anyone.

Please fix me.

This was it. You couldn’t take anymore trying after this. Just trying to get a doctor to listen to or believe you was almost worse than the daily pain. Almost.

“Miss Y/N? The captain is ready for you now. My name is Bepo, by the way,” the bear grinned as he took the clipboard from your clammy hands. At least you hoped it was a grin.

He handed the form back to you as he led you through the dimly lit hallways of this strange submarine. It felt like you’d entered some other realm, an underworld, on your way to strike a deal with a demon.

As long as he can fix me…

“Here you are,” Bepo motioned as he opened a large metal door. “You’re in great hands.”

Hands.

Hands were the first things you noticed as you entered the examination room.

Those hands were tensed over the back of a rolling chair, gripping the thin padding as if waiting for you so he could sit down.

Long fingers mesmerized you, tattoos etched along the back of each hand. And as you stepped into the well lit room, you saw the word “death,” spelled out across both sets of those fingers.

The sound of his throat clearing snapped your eyes to his, your skin flushing as you realized he’d been speaking to you.

As you realized how fucking gorgeous he was. His black hair looked a bit mussed, but it only added to the effect, along with his goatee, and his dark, pretty eyes.

Already more useful than my other doctors. Easy on the eyes.

“May I look at your form, miss?”

‘Oh, of course,'' you stuttered, thrusting the paper toward him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Dr. Trafalgar. You can take a seat.”

Well, his bedside manner seems pretty standard, you thought with a small sigh, sitting down on the familiar crinkly paper covering the exam table.

He circled behind you to close the door, and what sounded like a lock clicking into place had your heart rate spiking.

“Stand up, please,” he said firmly, your form still unseen in his hand.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you said–”

“Walk to the corner, and sit back down, please.”

His voice was unreal. You would have jumped through hoops for him anyway, praying that any doctor would listen.

But his command seemed to curl into your brain, and you followed it immediately.

“Why are you favoring that hip?”

“Oh, it…”

Here’s where your credibility would fall apart. Your nails dug into your palms as you willed him to believe you.

“Sometimes if I stand too quickly, it feels loose. Sometimes it pops, and is so painful that I can’t put any weight on it.”

He stared at you for a moment, and you fought not to recite a list of excuses, to try to explain why it hurts when you’d never been injured before.

“And your right knee?”

“Oh, it’s not bad right now. It used to swell sometimes, and was really painful. But it’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“Did you sustain any injuries?”

“N-No. None that I can recall.”

His lips quirked a bit before he reviewed your chart.

Believe me. Believe me. Believe me.

“You’ve reported your shoulders as being your most pressing concern. Why is that?”

His eyes were almost painfully sharp as he scanned you, focusing on your face as you answered him. He’d sat backwards on the rolling chair, his arms folded across the back with his legs spread wide to either side.

“They’ve been acting up recently. They often feel… loose. That’s how it feels to me. Sometimes if I move a certain way it almost feels like they pop out of place. But I can still move them after, it’s just incredibly painful. And then it’s weak, and I can barely hold anything.”

“What are some of the activities that have caused this to happen?”

He was impossible to read. But you couldn’t lie. He wouldn’t be able to help you if you lied.

“Um, brushing my hair. Taking off a jacket. P-Putting a sports bra on.”

“Did you used to have longer hair?”

“What?”

“Do you keep your hair above your shoulders to prevent shoulder pain? Or does brushing it still cause issues at this length?”

“Oh. Yes, actually. I used to have much longer hair.”

“I imagine you’ve adjusted many aspects of your life to cope with this pain.”

Warmth flowed into that deep voice, and you shivered as you watched him steeple his fingers against his lips for a moment.

“If you are comfortable, I would like to run through a few simple movements to check your flexibility. Many of which you can do on your own, but I will check in again if you are comfortable with me touching you for the others. You can always let me know if you would like to stop.”

“Okay.”

The doctor dug through a drawer to pull out a clear measuring device, almost like two rulers connected at one end. He adjusted it, creating an angle before setting it aside.

He never picked up the device again, and you fought not to shake. He looked at your elbows, your knees, your thumbs, your pinkies, frowning slightly as you followed his instructions.

“Now, please bend over, and try to touch your toes. Just go as far as you– hm.”

Your palms were flat on the ground, just as they’d always been able to go. You could even put the back of your hands down, and stretch them along the ground behind you if you wanted to.

“Doctor?”

“You can take a seat.”

Wincing as you sat, you shook out your legs, feeling his eyes as he watched your every movement.

He stood, towering over you as he came close.

“For this next part of the examination, I will be touching you with my hands, and in some cases leaning or holding parts of your body against mine so that I can check the range of motion in your joints. I may also massage certain tight muscles to help you relax as we move through the problem areas. You have quite the list for us to get through, but if at any time you wish for us to stop, just let me know. Do you understand?”

“I do,” you breathed, your face angled up to meet his.

“Do you consent to me touching you?”

His voice came out softer once again, and you couldn’t hold in a shiver as you consented.

Those fingers…

His long fingers were so gentle as they crept across your body, testing, pushing, pulling. You fought to listen to his commands, pushing against or holding your body how he told you.

“I imagine that seeking treatment has been challenging for you,” he rasped as he leaned over your face, his fingers gently massaging your shoulders.

The pain and pleasure of his hands testing you had brought up a strangely emotional pressure, almost like tears in your throat.

“It has.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It must be incredibly difficult to suffer so much pain, and not be believed.”

You started to nod to keep your voice from cracking, but he pressed his fingers into your skin just a bit.

“Can you keep still for me,” he whispered, and it sounded so close that you opened your eyes.

“Just relax,” the doctor soothed as he stepped away, pulling a few tissues out to press against your cheeks and temples, catching the tears that had spilled when you’d opened your burning eyes.

“I’m sorry, doc–”

“No need to be sorry, Y/N. You have been suffering, been living with pain for years. It’s all those doctors that left you like this that should feel ashamed.”

His fingers had returned to your body, still relaxing, and testing.

“Thank you, doctor.”

“Please, call me Law.”

He was pressing gently along your collarbones as his name rolled over you, a small sound escaping your throat as you melted beneath him.

“Do you have a good support system? People in your life that can help you with this?”

“I mean, my mom and my boyfriend help me. They’re supportive.”

He took those fingers away, and you mourned them, wishing you could feel that soothing touch forever.

“I’m going to test your hips now, Y/N. Please tell me if you experience any pain.”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling self conscious of your breathy voice. His words just kept pouring over you, his voice so relaxing, so good.

“How does that feel, Y/N?”

“Fine.”

He had your leg stretched along his torso, your foot dangling over his shoulder. You clamped your eyes shut. The sight of him between your spread legs, pushing your leg toward you, had you biting your lip, trying not to make any more embarrassing noises.

“How’s this?”

“Fine.”

He hadn’t gotten close to your limit, but he went agonizingly slow. You could feel his firm abs warming your thigh through your clothes, his thin shirt not doing much to keep the press of him at bay.

“You said that your mom and your boyfriend support you. How do they do that?”

“Oh, uh,” you shook your head, trying to focus on the question, and not the gentle rocking motion he’d started as he pushed you even further.

“They help me when… They help me when I’m having bad days. They listen. They both do little different things when things are bad.”

“How’s this?”

“Still fine.”

“You can go further?”

“Yeah, I can–,” you had reached for your thigh, planning to pull it toward your chest to show him, but his eyes above you stopped you before his voice did.

“I’ll get you there, Y/N. You can hurt yourself if you rush. Can you take it slow for me?”

“Perfect,” he praised when you nodded, still gently rocking your body forward and back as he pushed, finally reaching the limit.

“That is quite the range of motion,” he noted, carefully laying that leg down to move to the other side. “May I?”

He set himself up again, moving slow as he used his body to stretch you.

“You said that they help you on bad days, is that right?”

Meeting his sharp eyes, you took a minute to understand.

“Yes, they do.”

His face tilted a bit as he pressed closer. He started that gentle rocking motion, almost thrusting against you to help your body relax.

“But Y/N, from what I’ve seen today, it seems like all of your days are bad. Aren’t they?”

“I…”

“All these years with no one to believe you. It must be hard to believe yourself sometimes. Do you think they really believe you, Y/N? Do they believe how much pain you’re in as you struggle through each day? As you stand up too fast, or brush your hair? Do you think they understand?”

He’d pushed closer, looming over you as he held your thigh against him.

“Why are you–”

“I need to make sure that my patients have the support systems they need.”

His voice had smoothed back now, from almost heated to cool and detached.

He’s the only person that’s ever seemed like they understand. He must believe me. Of course he would be passionate about it, he’s a doctor. A doctor that believes me.

Closer and closer, his eyes watching yours.

“Do they believe you?”

“I think,” you started, eyes wide as you fought more tears, “I think they try to believe me. They just… They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t understand.”

“How’s this?”

“It’s fine.”

“Alright, last push.”

Your thigh was pressed between your bodies, and he stayed there.

“Does this hurt, Y/N,” he rasped, his breath warming your face.

“No.”

He helped you stretch your leg out on the table, sitting backwards in the rolling chair before he told you to sit up.

“I believe I understand the cause of your pain, and why you’ve had a difficult time obtaining a diagnosis.”

“Can you fix it?”

Your thrill of excitement got caught in your throat at the look in his eyes, his palm up to halt your questions.

“I believe it may be a connective tissue disorder, which would explain your hypermobility, as well as the complications you’ve had with many parts of your body. You've already met the criteria for one type based on our examination today. I would like you to come back tomorrow so that we can review more of your symptoms to be sure, and to discuss treatments.”

“You can do surgery, right? Can you fix it?”

You had gestured to him, your body panicking with failing hope. A gasp left your throat as those tattooed fingers caught your hand, his thumb rubbing over your skin as his voice went low.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. This is not a condition that can be cured,” he confessed, squeezing your hand as your body slumped. “Connective tissues run throughout our entire body, and if I am correct, yours may be weaker than most. 'Loose,' as you said. Unfortunately, there is no known way to repair or replace those tissues.”

A weight fell over you, and you found yourself not quite in your body. Your body that you’d fought so hard to fix.

That can never be fixed.

The doctor pressed your hand between his, smoothing over and warming your fingers until you were present enough to meet his eyes.

“It may not be curable, Y/N, but it can be managed. You don’t need to suffer alone in such pain like you have been. I’ll do everything I can to ensure that things are better for you. Do you trust me?”

There was something so intense about his face. The way he looked at you felt heavy, like he really did see the weight you’d carried all these years. You sank into those gray eyes, and realized you did.

“I trust you, Doctor.”

“Please. Y/N,” he hummed, releasing your hand, “call me, Law.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Welcome to my frustration with the health care system 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

Part 2

#cw dark content #cw yandere #cw doctors #trafalgar law smut #eventual smut #trafalgar law x reader #one piece smut #reader insert #fem!reader #x reader #turtletaub fics #one piece x reader #trafalgar law fanfiction #fic requests #use of y/n #cw chronic pain #cw medical #smut

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xthescarletbitch · 27 days

Text

bg3 ladies helping with chronic pain (x reader)

sfw, but i still prefer no minors

cw: gn!reader, chronic pain mentions, fluff!!

word count: 1000+ (each is roughly 250-300)

author's note: no, i haven’t finished the game yet, but pain has been kicking my ass lately, and i was curious about how the ladies would react if their partner had chronic pain. self-indulgent? maybe. (and i realize everybody has different experiences; these are just based on my own.) enjoy. <3

lae'zel

it takes lae’zel some time to understand the concept of chronic pain, but she tries her best to comprehend it for you. at first, she struggles with the idea because she thrives on the pain she feels from battle, but she soon realizes that it is not the same as the pain you feel. with the realization comes a more gentle lae’zel, one who just wants to take some of the pain away from you, at least for a little bit. lae’zel considers many different ways to aid you when you’re having a particularly hard time, and she feels that the best approach is to get you moving, if you are able to. she has had good results in the past by working her body to help ease some of her pain, so she only hopes for the same results with you. lae’zel happily and patiently guides you through some exercises geared to your most painful areas. she comes to understand your limits and grants you some breaks, should you need them. during your breaks, she’ll provide you with a drink to hydrate and some comments about what you are doing good and what you can improve on. she also makes it a habit of checking in on you throughout the workout routine to see where you’re at and if she needs to increase or decrease the intensity. lae’zel is also really good at yoga and will show you the ropes with that as well. she’ll demonstrate the pose for you and then help you in getting into position, being sure to spot you if you need it.

minthara

minthara may not understand chronic physical pain, but she gets the concept after some time with you. in the beginning, she’d question your outward symptoms because she assumed somebody had wronged you, or even outright hurt you. her first question was always: “who do i need to kill?” she was always fully prepared to murder the person responsible for your pain, not knowing that it was just something that happened to you. as mentioned before, minthara does eventually come to understand how and why the pain presents for you. she notes how debilitating the pain can become for you and figures that the best way to help is to try to distract you from your pain. oftentimes, that includes doing things with you, like reading her various texts or simply telling you her own stories. when this happens, she has your head laid on her chest as she runs her fingers through your hair, trying to bring some more comfort with her touch. using more of her touch, minthara will offer to massage the areas hurting you the most. she gets the best oils from baldur’s gate to use on you, ensuring that you get the best treatment. she takes her time to work the stress from your body and finds moments like those to be so intimate. it’s also important to note that minthara is extra protective of you when you are in pain. she just wants you to lay back and relax, taking no company besides her until you’re better. she’d also still keep the option of murder open for you if that would make you feel better.

shadowheart

shadowheart is probably the one who understands your pain the most. she is afflicted with her own form of chronic pain and knows just how difficult life can be when you’re juggling that and other things. for her, your company and affection are enough to make her symptoms feel manageable, so she wants to provide the same for you. she is more than willing to be there for all of your most painful moments and try to help you as much as she can. sometimes, this help can be in the form of healing spells that she caters to your affected areas. she’ll take the time to allow her hands to roam your body, touching the areas that are bothering you so that she may bring you a moment of relief. and during those moments, she’ll check in on you and make sure you’re doing alright. once her spells have been cast, shadowheart wants nothing more than to just hold you tight in her arms. she really feels for you—she knows it hurts, and she wants you close to her so that she can heal you as best she can. you will receive a lot of kisses. maybe she’ll even cast another spell on you to get you to relax in her arms, aiming to further lull you to sleep with some of her affirmations and declarations of her affection for you. shadowheart’s ultimate goal is to show you that she is there for you through it all, even the bad moments when you may lash out at her due to the amount of pain you’re in. she wants you to know that she understands, and she loves you regardless. you are her catharsis, and she wants to be yours.

karlach

karlach gets it; pain can be such a harrowing experience. and, like shadowheart, she wants to be there with you through it all, whether she understands every bit of it or not. dedicated is one way to describe this tiefling who will do just about anything to help you out in your worst moments. karlach’s first resort is to always become a living heating pad for you, available to provide heat for any area of your body. you could just lay right on top of her, and she’d be happy, using her hands to rub up and down your back, paying special attention to the areas that hurt you the most. it’s a form of cuddling that she cherishes deeply because she is able to take something malicious from you. if you just wanted to lay on your back, that’s fine with karlach, too. she’ll use her warm hands to apply heat to the affected areas, staying as long as you need her to. should you want her to, she’s even willing to provide massages to your tense areas. that, with the combination of heat, makes for an excellent treatment. and it’s good to note that as soon as karlach knows you’re in pain, she’s canceling all of your plans; you’re not going anywhere. she’ll have no arguments about it, either. she’ll convince you to stay in bed to soak up all the rest you can. she’ll take care of whatever needs to be done for you, and afterward, she’s all yours. she can also be like minthara and be protective of you; she doesn’t want you to lift a finger until you feel better.

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chaoticace2005 · 2 months

Text

Why Alastor has a cane:

1. It doubles as a microphone and looks cool.

2. It’s a power tool that he has to carry around to maintain his strength.

3. Gives him an air of authority.

4. He heard Lucifer had a cane. He needed a better one. Alastor’s has multiple functions!!

5. It’s just the style!

6. Lilith gave it to him and said he’s never to let it out of his sight.

7. It’s his emotional support cane.

8. The cane owns his soul. He has to carry it around where ever he goes as part of their deal.

9. Lucifer broke his ankle once when he kicked him. He has to use the cane for support.

10. That cane is actually sinners whose soul he owns. This is the final form of the first soul he owned. He took their energy until they became one with him and an inanimate object. Now this is where he keeps all the souls he contracts, taking more energy from them until they too become one with the cane. Husk is next :)

11. He was shipwrecked on an island. Completely alone (after eating everyone) he found the cane and named it “Wilson”, developing a parasocial relationship with it. Wilson died but when Alastor went to hell they were waiting for him.

12. When he fell to Hell he landed the wrong way and now his knee is perpetually messed up.

13. Husk told him he should “talk to somebody” so Alastor just grabbed the cane and said “fine.” The cane is now his therapist and he talks to it when he’s alone. His voice keeps everyone up at night.

14. Twisted his ankle from his heeled boots.

15. That bitch Susan seemed to think she was all that because of her cane.

16. It’s his pet.

17. It’s his one true love and the only thing that actually understands him.

18. He thinks his mother got cursed “Beauty and the Beast” style and turned into that cane. Whether this is actually the case remains to be seen.

19. ITS A BOMB

20. It acts a device to scramble signals, which is why he can’t be captured on camera.

21. So if he comes across something gross he can simply push it away with his cane.

22. Automatic weapon when you’re in a jam.

23. So he can say “STICKS and stones may break your bones!” as he torture and kills someone.

24. So he’s always show ready!

25. He just has chronic pain okay?! YOU try living over a hundred years, being a serial killer, and then getting shot!

26. The microphone actually gives off some feedback that is unbearable to some demons (like Husk) as another way to torture them.

27. The cane is actually Alastor. The body we thought was Alastor is being puppeteered by the cane.

28. It’s a palisman he stole from Emperor Belos and has been trying to keep hidden since someone ate all the others.

29. Vox once said canes were outdated and tacky, so of course Alastor had to prove him wrong.

30. It was a gift from Rosie!

31. So he has even more reach to wack the wings of flying ex-Angels.

32. It’s his soulmate.

33. You know those little blankets little kids carry around with them? The ones they’ll freak out if they’re missing. Yeah it’s like that.

34. He has crippling depression.

35. His therapist told him he needed to get some supports in his life.

36. It’s been the only one there to SUPPORT him this whole time. At this point he has to keep caney around. He’s moved so much in life with them, so to leave them behind would be immobilizing.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel memes #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon #radio demon hazbin hotel #the radio demon #stupid hazbin hotel lists #hazbin hotel crack #Alastor’s cane #vox hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel

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idyllicwillowtree · 8 months

Text

How Much Love

Genre: Steve Harrington x fem!reader / gn!reader; angst with fluffy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship

Summary: Steve has a migraine attack but he’s too stubborn to take care of himself.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: one curse word, non-descriptive vomiting, migraine symptoms, chronic pain, crying, one use of Y/N, dumb joke, p*rn reference?

Author’s note: I know the migraine thing has been overdone but idc :) I'm pretty sure this could be read as gender neutral but you can lmk if that's not the case

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Steve knew he shouldn’t have gone to work. The second his eyes opened he knew it was going to be a rough day. The persistent throbbing on the left side of his face and the twist of nausea in his stomach would be enough to convince anyone else that they should take it easy.

Not for Steve though.

He’s done this dance before. The battle in his mind of not wanting to waste one of his precious sick days or if he should stay home and take care of himself so he can make it through the next day. He usually sucked it up and went with the former.

I’ve had worse before, he’d rationalize to himself. I can handle it.

His true motivation for leaving the comfort and warmth of his bed was the date he had planned for you two. Steve went all out with flowers, chocolates, dinner reservation at Enzo’s, and concluding the night snuggled up on his couch watching a rented movie.

But the customers kept coming. Steve could've sworn they were all there, not to rent a movie, but to exacerbate his migraine attack. Tired mothers bringing in their screaming babies, a group of smelly teenagers, and a boisterous man who was trying to convince Robin that The Godfather was the greatest movie ever made. That’s not even mentioning the flickering fluorescent lights that Keith refuses to change the bulbs in.

Robin began to take notice once Steve kept bumping into the shelves as he put away tapes around the store. She watched as he mustered up enough strength to pick up a stack of returned tapes and mindlessly put The Muppet Babies in the Horror section and something called I Dream of Weenie in the kids section.

By 4:30, he was absolutely fried.

“Go home, dingus,” Robin ordered.

All Steve could muster was a small grunt from his spot at the register. His forehead was pressed to the cool counter, toned arms wrapped around his head, trying to keep as much noise and light out as possible.

The bell on the door of Family Video was the final nail in the coffin. People have been coming in and out all day but this time the ring pierced through the side of his head like a burning knife, swiftly penetrating his brain and twisting it for good measure.

Steve’s back stiffened as he sat up too fast, stomach turning when he ran blindly through the store and into the bathroom before emptying out the contents of his stomach. He tried not to think about when the last time the toilet was cleaned as he kept his face in the ceramic bowl, spitting out the rest of the sour bile coating his throat.

Steve barely heard the door creak open through the throbbing in his head and the ringing in his ears, but he did notice the light in the bathroom turn off. “Go away, Robin,” he croaked out.

The disobedient footsteps continued towards him. He just wanted to be left alone, feeling too vulnerable in this state. He felt embarrassment twist in his chest at the thought of not being able to handle a simple headache.

A cold hand landed on the back of his neck and began to massage lightly. It felt comforting but Steve’s mind was rejecting it, “Robin, I said-”

He finally lifted his heavy head, half opened eyes widened slightly as he met your concerned gaze, only for him to start welling up. Steve’s lip trembled as it failed to keep a sob from escaping.

“Oh baby,” you whispered. “Not feeling good?”

Steve hung his head the best he could with his stiff neck and shook his head in response.

“It’s okay, Stevie. Try not to move your head too much.”

You squatted next to him on the nasty bathroom floor and gently brought him into your arms. You let him cry into your shirt, gently rubbing soothing circles on his back and neck. Steve knew that crying would only hurt his head more, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand the emotions he was feeling yet, but he knew he was relieved to see you show up. Like a superhero, there to heal and protect him from any harm.

“I’m here now, baby. Let’s get you home, okay?”

_______________________________________________

Steve was so out of it he wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew he was snuggled in a cocoon of pillows and blankets. He peeled his eyes open and recognized the dark ceiling of his bedroom.

You were puttering around the room, tidying up a little so Steve would have one less thing to worry about. He admired how natural it looked for you, knowing where everything goes and even avoiding the loud creaking spots on the floor. Steve had the sudden urge to reach out but you tucked him in so well he was having trouble slipping his arms out.

His grunt of protest over the blanket entrapment alerted you and you were by his side in an instant.

“What is it baby?” you whispered gently, “you need some water? Or a new ice pack?”

Only when you removed the cool washcloth from his forehead did he notice the satisfying chill. He must have been practically asleep when you brought him home because he really doesn’t remember anything.

“What time is it?” Steve croaked out.

He leaned into the kiss you pressed gently to his cheek before you answered, “almost midnight.”

“What?!” Steve immediately went to sit up, but in his weakened state you were easily able to push him back down. “We had reservations!”

“I know, Stevie. It was really sweet of you to make plans but nothing we can do about it now,” you tried to reason. “We need to get you feeling better.”

“But I-”

“Stop that,” you demanded, still with a quiet and gentle tone, but it was still enough to cut him off. “Let me take care of you, Stevie. I know you feel bad, but I want to take care of you.”

Steve wasn’t sure if you meant he was feeling bad because he was sick or because of the immense amount of guilt he feels whenever he sees himself as a burden to others. Probably a little of both.

“I just…I was looking forward to tonight,” Steve muttered tiredly. “And this stupid chronic thing just always gets in the way and I don't…I don’t like asking for help.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he was making much sense but your smile showed him you understood. Your expression was soft and comforting as you gently raked your fingers through his hair. “Steve, I love you. All of you. Every single part of you I just adore. It doesn’t matter if those parts are feeling bad or good, I’ll always be here,” you stroked his cheek gently with the back of your hand, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “I like caring for you Steve. It makes me feel good. So don’t worry about burdening me or anything like that, okay?”

Steve felt his lip tremble again but managed to gulp down his sobs this time. He whispered a quiet, “thank you” before fully relaxing. He lazily pursed his lips, silently asking for affection, which you happily fulfilled. You moved in close and kissed his lips as a way to let him know you will support him during this tough time.

Once you were leaned back you said, “now, on a scale from one to ten, how bad does it hurt?”

“Mm…Eleven.”

“No, it’s Y/N.”

Silence engulfed the negative space until a curious Steve peeled one eye open, only to see your shit-eating grin. He knew you’d be frozen like that until he laughed, but your expression was usually funnier than the joke.

He puffed out a laugh through his nose before shutting his eyes again. “That was horrible,” he said.

“Maybe, but at least I got you to smile,” you said smugly.

“Mm you sure did,” he praised you lightly. “Now c’mere. Cuddling is the best medicine.”

It’s called ‘chronic pain’ for a reason. Sure you can dull the pain with medications and treatments but it’ll always be there. Sometimes all you have to do is deal with it and ride it out, but it makes it so much easier when there’s someone there who loves and supports you.

Love may not be able to cure all kinds of pain but Steve thinks your love comes pretty close.

thank you for reading!

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wangxianficfinder · 10 days

Text

In the mood for...

Apr 19th

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1. Hi, I'm looking for fics where WWX is drunk/high and LZ noncons him @thehappyyellow

the sweetest dream would never do by honeyandviscera (E, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, Dark LWJ, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Body Worship, Breaking and Entering, Drugged Sex, Stalking, Come Eating, Unreliable Narrator, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat)

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2. Hey, hope you guys are well. For itmf, any opwwx! recs? Preferably completed please. Thank you for your time!! @tinyfoxpeach

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3. Helloooo Just came here jajsjs I'm desperate, lately I was thinking about some caveman! Or prehistoric ice age wangxian but I could not find something like that :( any rec? (Tysm for this page)

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4. more fics like lwj's big dick agenda? or just fics lwj being possessive. thanksss!

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5. Love your blog!!!!thank you for the hardwork!

Would love some disabled/chronic health issues wei wuxian pretty please 💖💖

🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 91k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, /Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming NHS, Disabled Character)

🔒 a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 120k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, WWX & WN & WQ, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence after Xuanwu Cave, Fall of Lotus Pier, But worse!, Power Imbalance, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Not Everyone Dies AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Loss of Limbs, Chronic Illness, Seizures, WWX’s Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Wēn Remnants Live, Wēn Remnants Deserve Better, WWX Creates a Sect | Yílíng Wèi Sect, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute LWJ, Service Animals, Crows)

The Darkness Before Dawn by PsycheStellata707 (M, 113k, wangxian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, Attempt at Humor, PTSD, Oblivious WWX, WWX-centric, Blind WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Everyone Lives AU, Except Those Who Deserves to Die, Oblivious Pining, Not Canon Compliant, WIP)

🧡 the river brought you here by chilianxianzi (Not Rated, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, POV Outsider, Amnesia, Past abuse, Strangulation, Found Family)

please don’t let me be misunderstood by sysrae (T, 3k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, getting hit by cars, Past Child Abuse)

some foolish thing I've done by sysrae (M, 4k, wangxian, Modern, College/University, partial hearing loss, Past Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, the real OTP is everyone x therapy)

🔒 how to make your dad fall in love with your high school teacher in five steps; the complete and bulletproof guide by ravenditefairylights (T, 90k, wangxian, modern, coffee shop au, nonbinary LSZ, hurt/comfort, trauma, past abuse, past domestic violence, healing, hurt WWX, found family, hospitalization, therapy, single parent WWX, pining, teacher LWJ, unreliable narrator, chronic pain, queer platonic relationship, genderfluid WWX, autistic LWJ, fluff & angst)

🔒 some things go forward by everythingispoetry (T, 73k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hospitals, Teenage Drama, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending)

Cure by Yukirin_Snow (M, 100k, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi, Modern AU, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Character, Cancer, Medical Procedures, Medical Jargon, Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Love at First Sight, possible trigger warnings) Wwx has cancer, happy ending. It's a really good fic. I love it.

Rest is Resolution series by MarbleGlove (T, 32k, JC & WWX, JYL/JZX, JZX & JGS, LQR & LWJ, wangxian, Fix-It, Post-Sunshot Campaign, this might be crack, Niè Cultivation, BAMF NHS, BAMF JYL, Canon Divergence, Madam Lan Backstory, Getting Together), but especially the first one, Elder, an Aesthetic It's WWX without his golden core leaning into needing assistance

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6. Hiii! For the next itmf, I’m wondering if anyone has read fics inspired on creative reality shows? I’d love to read about wangxian having to team up for something like baking impossible or blown away. I hope y’all are having a great day, thanks!

❤️ Knight Hunt! Phoenix Mountain by travelingneuritis (E, 51k, wangxian, modern, dating show, Modern Cultivation, but in the silliest way possible, Reality TV, the juniors are interns, Smut, Illustrations, low-stakes pining)

Wangxian Strictly AU Series by Selenay (E, 135k, WangXian, Modern: No Powers, Dance, Strictly Come Dancing Fusion, Ballroom Dancing, Dancer!WWX, Violinist LWJ, Pining While Dancing, Oblivious WWX, Gratuitous Costume Descriptions, Gratuitous dancing descriptions, Slow Burn, Ballroom dancing, Established Relationship, Romantic Fluff, [Podfic] Falling to the Rhythm by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona))

Previously, on LEGO Masters by trippednfell (M, 55k, wangxian, Reality TV Show Contestants/Judges, Modern, Mutual Pining, Forced to compete together, strangers to reality show contestants to lovers, there's only one bed, Platonic Cuddling, Autistic LWJ, WWX Has ADHD, Grief/Mourning, Wangxian miss their moms, so much pining, More Pining than LEGO in this LEGO fic, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, POV Alternating, Lego Masters AU, Not YZY friendly, Dysfunctional Jiang family dynamics)

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7. Do you by any chance know if there's any fic about the kid playing hanguang-jun role and the kid playing to be the yiling patriarch of that bunch of kids playing to be cultivators? As they have no names idk where to start looking. I'm in the mood for something wholesome 😌 Thanks in advance!

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8. Itm A) miscarriage fics where it causes problems in wx marriage.

B) girl dad wwx

C) cat dad wwx

Please find all of them in >20k or atleast 10 k. Please. Thankyou.

Rise of the Divine Oracle by BlakSalt (T, 291k, WangXian, Boy Love, Hurt/Comfort, Romance)

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9. hi! :3 itmf junior-central fics :) can be any combination of the quartet. ship fics are fine but no sizhui/jin ling pls bc they are cousins in my heart. thanks!! @monstergreentea

🔒 blue flies buzzing by RoseThorne (T, 2k, JL & LJY & OYZZ & LSZ, JC & WWX, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & LXC, Gossip, Rumors, Mentioned Wen Remnants, Sect Leader Yao Bashing, JC & WWX Reconciliation, NHS is a Little Shit, POV LJY, POV Third Person, Threats, Justice, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, LWJ is LSZ’s Parent, LJY Being LJY, Podfic Welcome)

🔒 hills and rivers are waiting by LtLJ (T, 15k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, the family that hunts demons together stays together, and doesn't murder each other, Case Fic, BAMF WWX, Mojo's post)

💖A Dramatic Reading by pupeez4eva (Not rated, 5k, wangxian, post-canon, humor, public confessions, curses, getting together)

❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

Would You Come Home? by s6115 (Not rated, 46k, WangXian, Junior Quartet Centric, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Junior Quartet Dynamics) Might work, though it's a little more Sizhui centric, but it's a very lovely showing of their dynamic in a low stakes setting

❤️ grow by cafecliche (T, 14k, WangXian, Age Regression/De-Aging, Character Study, Post-Canon) link in #12

You Bring the Colour by fuddy_duddy (rainier_day) (G, 12k, wangxian, art school, art restoration)

🔒 Yearning by Sanguis (T, 9k, WangXian, LingYi, Modern AU, Professors, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Bunnies, Pre-Relationship Secrets)

climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (T, 15k, JC & JL & WWX, JC & JL, JC & WWX, JL & LSZ, JL & WWX, Post-Canon, Mutually Unrequited Forgiveness, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Family History, Generational Trauma, Discussion of Canonical Abuse, Awkward Attempts at Communication, mentions of past JC/WQ, Fairy is a good dog)

history by tongzhi (T, 16k, LSZ & WN, JC & LSZ, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & Wen Remnants, LSZ & Juniors, LSZ & MM, Post-Canon, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, LSZ gets angry, LSZ and JL refuse to take their family's trauma forward, jiujiu is the best, Character Study, MM abolitionist queen)

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10. itmf any pregxian fics! thank you for your hard work admins :)

Reluctant partner by sacrificial_fawn (G, 31k, wangxian, LXC/JGY, Modern, Mpreg, Family Reunions, bonding over your shared trauma, Reluctant Bonding, Married Life, Supportive LQR, Past Miscarriage, LXC's excessive use of kaomojis, Male Lactation, non-graphic birth, LQR tries to be a good uncle but he doesn’t know how to, Intersex WWX, JGY can hold the baby as a treat, LWJ can have words and verbs as a treat, Slight OOC) very sweet imo, it has a bit of Meng Yao and Wei Wuxian friendship, it's also a teene tiny bit sad

All I Want by Selenay (E, 47k, wangxian, Modern, Mpreg, Post Holiday Romance, Consequences, Reunions, Idiots in Love, wangxian attempt to be sensible adults about it, they are very bad at it, Teacher WWX, Rating earned in later chapters, Handwavey Biology)

Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, wangxian, canon divergence, communication, established relationship, sunshot campaign, mpreg, canon typical violence, WWX has new golden core, canonical character death, happy ending, fix-it of sorts) He's not pregnant for a large portion of the fic, but it's not an insignificant amount of time.

Impermanence, Transience, Permanence by Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) (E, 39k, wangxian, canon divergence, unplanned pregnancy, mpreg, gore, sunshot campaign, assumed miscarriage, medical procedures, childbirth, golden core reveal) I'd be surprised if you haven't already read this one, but it's one of the few ones of the genre that I like.

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11. Hi!! For itmf, is there any fic where Lan zhan and wei ying personality swapped? It only temporary but the chaos cannot be contained @chibiizzy

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12. hey admins, any fic recs on wei ying getting injured or sick and lan zhan takes care of him or just anyone who gets very worried about him?? thanks <3

🔒🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 57k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU)

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 63k, wangxian, JL & WWX, post-canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, POV JL, JC & WWX Reconciliation, eventually, Reluctant Matchmaker JL, this kid is doing his best, Pre-JL/LJY if you squint)

How to Treat Your Injured Yiling Laozu by merakily (T, 3k, wangxian, Chronic Pain, Whump, Love Confessions, Literal Sleeping Together, Burial Mounds, Golden Core Reveal, LWJ has a lot of feelings about WWX being in pain, Hurt WWX)

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (E, 23k, wangxian, Canon Compliant, discussion of canon character death, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Getting Together, Yearning, Literal Sleeping Together, Really Excessive Amounts of Hurt/Comfort)

something left to save by androids_fighting93 (E, 57k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, No Bloodbath of Nightless City, JYL Lives, Not Everyone Dies AU, Hurt/Comfort, single dad wwx, Sick Character, Golden Core Reveal, the lightest d/s dynamic if you squint, handjobs, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Dynamics)

Heart of hearts series by apathyinreverie (M, 40k, wangxian, WIP, Dark LWJ-ish, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Recovery, Possessive LWJ, Possessive WWX, Protective LWJ, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt WWX, Caring, WWX Goes to Gusu, ridiculously self-indulgent, Canon Divergence, Amnesia, some definite manipulation, but not everything is as it seems, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ)

❤️ grow by cafecliche (T, 14k, WangXian, Age Regression/De-Aging, Character Study, Post-Canon)

What's Wrong With Him? by GrapefruitSketches (G, 2k, JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, JC & WWX & JYL, wangxian, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, Pining LWJ, POV JYL, Canon Compliant, Oblivious WWX, Unconscious WWX, Concerned JYL, JYL Knows Everything)

let the yoke fall from our shoulders by occultings (microcomets) (G, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Character Study, Mentions of Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, let capricorns cathart agenda, Happy Ending, Family Feels, Established Relationship)

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13. Itmf serious fics. Where wwx has personality like he has in 12 moons n a fortnight, he's so mature there uk. Ik that fic has funny and crack moments too, but it's mostly feels and serenity there, more fics where wwx is like that please?

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14. Hello. Thank you for all the hardwork.

For the next itmf I'm looking for fics whe WWX is not the only one to be resurrected.

Or where he is resurrected in other people bodies (I have seen the fic comp here ).

Thank you once again @anime-trash-parody

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15. itmf,,, a fic where wwx atracts the supernatural, the divine, the eerie,, like he has a connection with the burial mounds or the dead in general, they like him, they are atracted to him; spirits and deities like huli jins or like the fliwer maiden are also atracted to him or interact with him,,, does what im saying even make sense?

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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16. itmf any fics where they actually end up meeting baoshan sanren when going to or while doing the core transfer

Can't Tell Me Nothin by natacup82 (T, 35k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Family Feels, Communication, BAMF Women) They don’t meet during the transfer so it might not quite be what u have in mind but she does do something about it.

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17. Would love some genius modern wei wuxian extra if the juniors are involved thank you 💖💖💖💖💖

💖 One Can Keep A Secret (If He Does Not Know It’s There)by H_Belle (T, 5k, wangxian, NHS & WWX, modern w/ cultivation, inventor WWX, secret identity, identity reveal, YLLZ WWX, rogue cultivator WWX, pining LWJ, WWX pov)

living in my memory/living in my mouth by tardigradeschool (T, 32k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, reincarnation, college/university au, hurt/comfort, sharing a bed, light angst, nightmares, epistolary, pining, friends to lovers)

🔒 care by everbrighter (T, 35k, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, modern w/ magic, resurrection, family bonding, getting to know each other, past character death, pining)

🔒 The Second Jade of Lan's late but incendiary sexual awakening by KizuKatana (E, 41k, wangxian, First Time, LWJ's Horny Grip,LWJ does not know what hit him, and yet somehow he still realizes it before WWX, canon wangxian dynamics, college AU, LWJ starts off annoyed at WWXBut quickly discovers both his competency kink and a caretaking kink, Genius WWX)

i really want to know (who are you) by Stratisphyre (M, 19k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Modern with Magic, Golden Core Reveal, Single Dad WWX, Reasonable Authority Figure LQR, Allusions to violence and murder, Hospitalization)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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