#i’m trying so so hard to feel physically better
Note
Maybe #6 ...on a falling tear.
But maybe smut 😅
Ahem. Um. Yes.
Putting this under a read more cut for obvious reasons 😶
6. ...on a falling tear (but definitely smut)
It’s Ian’s day off, the house is empty, the vibrating anal beads they splurged on finally arrived in the mail, and they're having a great time.
It’s obvious, from the way Ian is grinning wide, eyes sparkling, laughter huffing from his lungs, that he’s enjoying this.
Mickey’s enjoying it too, of course. It’s just that he expresses joy a bit differently than most people.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck you, fuck you, Ian, gonna fucking kill you, fuck.”
Ian laughs again, and his warm breath puffing against Mickey’s spit soaked nipple gets an interesting response, so he follows it up by pursing his lips and blowing out a long, cool stream of air.
“Fuck. Ian,” Mickey whines, voice keening and plaintive once more.
It’s one of the many, many things Ian loves about his husband: the way his mood flips on a dime even during sex, especially during sex, how he’ll go from growling threats to pathetic pleading to blabbering praises and back again.
“So good, it’s so good, Ian, please, love you, you're so good.”
“Yeah? You like this, baby?” Ian pulls back to get a better view of Mickey’s face. It's quite the sight to behold: skin flushed and brows furrowed and mouth swollen and slick, plush lower lip bitten hard by one sharp little canine tooth.
Mickey tips his head back against the pillow. Shakes it frantically. “No, I don’t fucking like this, I hate this, fuck, I hate you.”
“Oh? You don’t like this?” Ian hums. Rubs one big hand soothingly up and down Mickey’s heaving chest. “Hm. Maybe we oughta try a different setting, then.”
“Wait–”
Mickey’s eyes fly open just in time to see Ian grin as he presses the button on the remote.
“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck, Ian, Ian, please–”
“Please what? Put it higher?”
Ian presses another button without waiting for an answer. Watches in awe as Mickey’s back arches, as his muscles tense, limbs straining against the restraints, as his cock jerks untouched against his stomach, come dribbling down to join the other spatters in varying states of drying.
Ian clicks the remote again. Drops the strength to the lowest setting, switches the pulse pattern to something steady and predictable.
Mickey sobs, just once, and Ian’s grin widens.
When Mickey cries during sex, that means Ian is doing his job really, really well.
It’d freaked him out the first time. Made him panic. Made him think he’d hurt Mickey in a way he hadn’t intended to.
But that was years ago.
Nowadays, making Mickey cry is one of Ian’s favorite activities.
“So good, baby,” he gushes, leaning in to kiss Mickey’s forehead. “You’re doing so good. You were fucking made for this, Mickey. Made to be tied up and pleasured and used all day long.”
Ian can physically feel Mickey’s skin heat up against his lips. Can feel him shudder and shake. Can feel him nod, just a tiny, jerky little motion.
Ian pulls back again, wanting to drink in the sight of him, wanting to see it forever and ever and ever. “Fuck, baby. I should take a fucking picture. Actually, I should just keep you like this 24/7.”
Mickey’s breath stutters, his eyes fluttering open to peer up at Ian blearily, the tiniest little noise clawing from his throat.
Ian smiles softly at him. Brings a hand up to cup his face and swipe at his tears with his thumb. “You want that, baby? Yeah. Maybe you’re right about not needing a job. Maybe I should just keep you tied up like this all day instead, ready for me to use whenever I want. Would be a great stress relief, after a long day of work. ‘Course, some days I’d be too tired to fuck you, but that’s okay. I can just leave you like this, right?”
Mickey whines in protest. Shakes his head.
“Shh, it’s okay, Mick. I’m just teasing,” he soothes, ducking down again to kiss the fresh tear rolling down Mickey’s cheek. “I’d never be able to leave you completely untouched. I’d have to do something. Something like this, maybe.”
He clicks the remote again, ramping the vibrations back up to level five, switching the pattern to an unyielding bzzzzzzzzzz.
“Fuck!”
Ian laughs. Palms at his own dick, just to take a bit of the pressure off. “We’re almost done, babe. Promise.”
“Yeah?” Mickey pants, melting a bit in relief even as his wrists flex against the leather cuffs fruitlessly.
“Ian! Fuck, fuck you, please please please, I need you, I love you, Ian–”
“Yeah,” Ian assures him. “Just gonna make you come one more time with these in.” He pauses. Cocks his head. “Well, and then of course I’ll have to pull these out of you, one by one, and fuck knows how many times you’ll come during that. Plus, I’m obviously going to have to fuck you at least once. Maybe twice. I’m feeling pretty worked up, y’know?”
This time, Mickey comes with a high pitched whine and a steady stream of tears.
Oh yeah. They are definitely having fun.
send me a number~
#prompt games#gallavich#my scribblings#milestone achieved: first actual smut posting#nobody look at me rn#um. thank you for the prompt. i hope you like it?????#maybe???????????#hopefully?????????????????#🫣
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sometimes you really just have to believe that certain things will work. like taking magnesium to sleep better. like stretching in the morning to help your body hurt less. like eating fruit in the sun. like going on a walk when you don’t feel good. like asking someone for a hug even when you feel weird about it. sometimes it helps if you just tell yourself it does.
#magnesium actually does help tho just sayin#and so does stretching in the morning. mad about that one#also take vitamin d with ur magnesium if u can it helps ur body absorb it better to make it work more#i’m trying so so hard to feel physically better#it’s very hard. i think if i wasn’t so physically ill i would be a lot mentally better this year#golly ollie
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Who up listening to good luck babe by chappell roan and having it resonate not in the way intended but resonating nonetheless. About to go ham in the tags about the overlap of being a lesbian and being aromantic...if u even care....
#my art#gore#organs#its 2am so not a lot of this is going to be very coherent but this song makes me feel a lot of things about it all#like. its the Expectations#the expectation that im going to date men and the expectation that im going to date at all have always felt equally stifling#theres that feeling of not trying hard enough or not realizing it at first or trying to lean into what you're told you should feel#and having it not pay off time and time again and wishing you could just make it work#because everyone else around you has it just fine and you dont get why you're struggling with it so much#THERE ARE MORE SIMILARITIES BETWEEN THE TWO IS WHAT IM SAYING#like obviously figuring out aromanticism is especially weird because its a lack of something BUT THEYRE PRETTY SIMILAR#realizing I dont want to date anyone mirrors realizing I didn't like boys but like. idk man its worse sometimes?#I wouldn't trade it for the world it means a lot to me but its almost like people go out of their way not to understand it sometimes#at the end of the day I am the you in that song#it was a very very long road to being okay with never falling in love because that was something I wanted for a very very long time#at the end of the day I will never have to be someones wife and I think its better that way#but its also hard not to get jealous sometimes#like I know its irrational I know I get physically ill at just the thought of being asked out but like#sometimes ill see my friends with their girlfriends and ill feel like clawing my own chest out with want#but also if anyone asks me out I will have to dig myself into a pit and never come out. I think.#I want to be with women but I dont want to Be With Women if that makes sense#its another layer of difficulty that I dont think I'll ever be able to get past#I feel like at this point I should just be trying to conditioning myself out of any form of desire because its just not an option for me#which definitely isn't true and like chappell roan says. you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.#but its also so tiring to have to sit here with the feeling and feel bad for having the feeling.#I dont know#I think if I felt a little more or a little less I’d be fine but I’m stuck in the middle#it feels very weird talking about this openly but also its very difficult to talk about with friends because most of them dont get it#anyways something something Josies monologue from bottoms#im going to bed
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#tw weight#tw ed#I have been trying so hard to eat healthier and be more physically active in a healthy non-ed way#just in a - feel physically better way#and I have been succeeding#in that I DO feel physically better#but my stupid brain still lies to me about what the mirror shows#and it’s so damn frustrating because I’m hitting goal milestones (weight lifted time worked out that kind of goal)#but feel like I’m getting nowhere because of how my brain is wired wrong#and telling me that nothing has changed even though I know it has
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mm goin through the horrors. the horrors are bad i can’t recommend the horrors.
#my city is about to burn !! hard to say how bad it will be. but at this point damage looks likely#the fire is very unpredictable and growing and strong winds will push it this way tomorrow#my home will probably be safe. im beside the lake. it’d have to chew through the whole city to reach me#but i’m still scared for family who live closer and all the thousands of people under evacuation orders already#half the city is on evacuation alert. state of emergency declared#my province is on fire#it gets worse every year#this summer was a series of severe alerts. fiercer thunderstorms. hotter heat waves. smoke from dozens of fires#i’m not a pessimist. but at times like this. man. its hard to see a future that gets better#☹️#i’m so. angry that it’s gotten this bad. i feel very violent abt the people who let this happen. the ones who had a say in it .#ive also been feeling extra shit physically lately and this smoke is not helping the return of my chronic cough#half of my organs are fucked up at any given time and years of seeking answers has yet to provide anything substantial#its bad. it’ll probably end up ok and many people are having it worse but fuck it’s all bad rn.#theres nothing to do about it right now. and i’ll have to try and get some sleep. too many insomnia nights recently.#just needed to yell into the void. get out some of the stress#ghhhhhhhgggghhhhh ok. gonna go find distractions until this body gets tired enough
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cold as shit & freezing my ass off in this winter (But at least we made it to December.)
#dadbots.txt#starting the new month off with a sore throat & body aches due to household cold-like symptoms. Thanks. Even when I was trying 2 avoid it#and with how cold it is — permanently staying In bed forever. Like it’s physically making me curl into a crab rn oh my god it’s so cold#Which is both hell and good in both ways. Bad since I stay in bed too much anyway. Almost everyday.#Especially with chronic low energy and 24/7 fatigued. Mentally and physically. And i really gotta do better -#- and reduce that since that adds up alongside other unhealthy habits. And I can literally feel it taking a toll on me unfortunately.#But also good since I’ll be resting more often than not. It’s not something i do and so having the opportunity to rest is kinda nice?#Still. Two sides of a coin right now. And this cold is definitely not helping me or the fact it’s easier to get sick 10x more.#Back to pain relievers and heat ig.#Although with this just. Might be a cold but also not? Thing? Since not all of my sore throats are colds but overproduced mucus. Gross.#But been drinking tea like habitually to knock this out and warm blankets and stuff. Feeling better as of typing this. So thank god it’s wo#This month been… interesting to say the least. A lot of personal talk and changes that should’ve happened years ago.#But hey. You live and learn.#And I’m not mad at it. I’m making progress when I would’ve shrugged and say it’d never happen. Now it’s happening and even I’m surprised#Doesn’t mean it’ll completely override everything in my life or push stuff to the side. Though it’s better than nothing so I’ll take it.#Winter is always hard for a lot of people and I’ve been hit with it as well. Even near the holidays and all.#Been rough. And the constant realization that each month I don’t remember…. Anything. That has happened.#But also that I did a little more than previously and slowly pushing it each month. Little by little.#There’s been a drastic change from last year to now. Went through new lifestyles and experiences. Exploring different fields. Etc#So it’s been one hell of a ride anyway. And that I can sit back and be content with. Even if nothing else is currently going on yknow#December probably gonna be slow. But we’ll see. Hope to bring new opportunities fortune and possibilities along the way. Take care y’all
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i am trying to work on eating healthier, which is all tied up in all kinds of feelings about body and weight, and my best friend / cuddlebuddy has made some comments lately about about appreciating how soft i am and it’s just been. really nice and reassuring honestly.
#it’s all so hard right#bc i Don’t have a good relationship w food right now and i am Not eating well for my body#and also it’s really hard to talk about / deal with all of that without Also touching on weight stuff#and i have put in… a lot of time and effort to accepting and trying to love my body#i spent years ashamed of it and constantly hiding and i am genuinely so proud of how far i have come towards being confortable in my skin#not perfect. but so much better.#AND IT’S JUST. something i’ve been feeling really sensitive about.#and he’s being very supportive of my healthier eating but Also very vocal about loving my body#and i just really really appreciate it rn#i’m trying to be really intentional about focusing on feeling better physically and nourishing my body rather than on Losing Weight#and it’s just haaaaaaard when those two things are synonymous for most people#it’s really nice to feel like someone else is supporting me in it
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girl help I’m experiencing that common yet elusive late night motivation to get my life together knowing it will fall apart in the morning </3 girl fucking help me
#I hate ittt#I’m always like ‘I’m gonna start doing this’ or ‘I’m gonna finally try and get myself in a place where I can maybe take college classes’#and ‘I’m really gonna try and fix my sleep schedule and stop getting distracted instead of getting something accomplished’#and then in the morning evil me is back and they hate me and everything else#and would sell the world to hell for five more minutes of sleep#and my executive dysfunction has its claws in me again#man it sucks being so behind. I don’t want to like complain and make it sound like I’m worthless bc I’m not but man it’s hard#it’s hard watching ppl younger than you achieve your dreams of learning and getting better and breaking through that mental fog#they’re not always much younger either just like. two years is enough to make me wonder what would have happened if I was there#I know it’s not all in my control why I’m here either— there’s a lot of factors at play#but one of them IS that growing up I couldn’t never beat that executive dysfunction plus mental fog and procrastination#and then I shot myself in the foot by saying I waited to long and shouldn’t even try#and now I’m realizing I could but the years I spent fighting with myself weigh me down now and then#I can’t let it get to me because if I let myself get weighed down by it all I pull others down with me#but sometimes it does make me sad. and frustrated. when I feel this motivation when im lying in bed tired at some ungodly hour#suddenly struck with wanting to change my life and not having the daylight nor the physical/mental ability to get it done right then#not to mention the privacy. if I chose to get up at the buttcheeks of midnight and morning I would be not only destroying my own schedule#but disturbing a bunch of others too#anyway this wasn’t supposed to turn into a rant sorry#I haven’t talked a lot lately so it’s all bubbling inside I guess
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(vent cw sorry i ran out of room in the tags to say that. it’s illness-related anger as usual. content warning for medical everything)
im so fucking sick though. just in general
#and i am so tired of people acting like they know my experiences better than i do#stayed home from school today falling behind in everything couldn’t fcuking get out of bed and my dad said that yesterday my energy was up#so i’m obviously faking it today. like yeah yesterday i laid in bed for hours then came to your house and sat in a chair. saw me for 30min#you don’t get to tell me that yesterday i was feeling well because i fucking wasn’t and you have never noticed or cared#when i fucking passed out got a black eye from hitting my head on the way down. he didn’t fucking bat an eye#now i’m stuck awake because i have stomach pain and my heart has been pounding so loud for hours#and i’m trying to sleep and i need to make it to school tomorrow but i can’t#and i’ve been trying and i’ve been lying awake. and at this point i don’t know how to deal with this anymore#i get sick three times a month you’re supposed to be sick three times a year. this isn’t even counting days where i can’t stand#when i say i’m sick i mean i have sore throat congestion and sometimes fever. and it’s almost always a direct result of trying to live life#like i went to the mall thursday prom shopping. walked a few hours. woke up next morning sore throat runny nose couldnt focus on school from#all the pain in so many places and all of my regular symptoms just being escalated so badly. cant think can’t see cant stand#and that is messed up!!!! that is messed up!!!! and my mother tells me she finally agrees i need anxiety medicine#like hey thanks!! that’s helpful!! however!! why do you only endorse mental when it’s the only alternative to physical#why has my mom always denied viewing my anxiety as anything i shouldn’t just push aside. until it becomes a way to tell me that my physical#problems should also just be pushed aside. why is it so hard to get an audience with a doctor#ANYWAYS i have my stupid follow up appointment. this friday. i dont know how it’s gonna go down#i’m just going to tell the doctor how much it fucking sucks. i guess i’m going to ask for a referral to a neurology specialist in the cities#which will drive my family insane they don’t want to enter the cities to help me. but our clinic doesn’t have what i need#i might get the doctor to do a stress test on friday though if they can do that. but i want specific autonomic testing#and like yeah. i get that anxiety is in the autonomic system. part of fight flight freeze and what EVER i’m not trying to say it’s not!!!!#but does it occur to anyone that my heightened anxiety is one of several symptoms. rather than somehow being the cause#heart rate in panic attack sitting down is 120bpm. heart rate in normal brain walking down the hallway is 140bpm. it’s not my fucking brain#anyway i just need a doctor to actually fucking look at me. actually do the tests actually monitor. because it’s there if you look#but nobody cares enough to look and i just have to sit here falling behind in all my classes and not able to do my job that i love#and just wait for it to somehow get better when i’ve been like this as long as i can remember and maybe it’s worse now but it’s always been#there and everybody writes it off as me being lazy or not putting in enough work and maybe i would have been in sports as a kid if i could!!#people act like my fitness now is because of choices i made as a child but i have ALWAYS had worse reaction to exercise than my friends#and anyway i just. idk. sore throat and stuff is gone now but overall discomfort and disability is not. but i’m going to school cause i cant#keep missing it for health reasons just have to watch my heart go insane and do nothing. out of tags i’m sorry. i’m just so tired.
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#I don’t know guys I just feel so… bereft of meaning in life.#I know better than to do anything stupid as long as people care for me but I don’t know why the anxiety#and depression is hitting me full force again.#I’ve done everything to stave it off.#I just feel like there’s this house I’m building inside of me completely normal feeling right?#Except mine is the goddamn haunted Winchester mansion.#Full of unfinished nonsensical rooms and driven by a near divine fervor to keep at it.#For what though? I have to ask myself for what I’m doing all of this?#Am I a terrible person and trying to construct living spaces for the people I love so confusing they’ll never escape?#Or am I trapping myself within the halls separate from the world around me?#Am I currently in love and denying it or am I just so terrified of people leaving that I’m twisted something pure into something abhorable?#I feel repulsed by my own incompressible feelings I don’t focus on myself because I don’t care enough#I listen to others and do what they want. Say the word and I’m yours as long as you’ll have me.#It’s a hell of a way to live in all honesty. Nothing good ever comes of it and yet I persist like this…#Everyday I wake up and it doesn’t matter what I do…#I’m still just as physically and personably undesirable as I’ve been ever since I’ve been legal.#I don’t inspire pity muchless something far sweeter.#It’s so hard talking to people when I get like this I want to talk to people#I want to share the love I feel for everyone in any form it comes but I can’t. I’m just me.#And I’ll always be haunting this home I’ve constructed myself.#Anyways I’m just going to direct all my energy into gearing up for the zine I’m in and my personal projects for Homestuck / Supernatural.#digital digital i wanna get digital
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Would really love it if now that my brain is behaving more my body would get the memo too
#the ocd is slightly better#this issue is still all I think about but I think I’m having that little bit of delusion I get with depression sometimes#because I can tell all my emotional reactions to things are off#like something that would usually really upset me doesn’t bother me and stuff I hate excites me etc#also I can just feel that I’m not myself#i know it’ll pass though. I’m not making any rash decisions#and I’m trying not to obsess or ruminate because that doesn’t help but it’s so hard not to when that’s all my thoughts are telling me#anyway. physical part is this horrendous nausea that means it takes me an hour to eat lunch because every time I take a bite I dry heave#and have to go stand near the bin because I feel like I’m going to throw up#which is not helpful for enjoying life or getting stuff done! wish it would stop#anne speaks#emetophobia tw#tw vomit mention#idk what the tags are that people use; sorry!
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bro I’ll never again be able to do it like I was doing it in high school
#I just read through my final essay for AP lang and the closing statement I wrote for my law class’ mock trial and they’re both such bangers#like genuinely the writing in both is better than what I could do today (to be fair at that time I had just taken a year of ap lang#and that had made me really really good at essays)#and like my valedictory! that shit ruled! I was told it was the best valedictorian speech most of my teachers had heard in a decade!#I was thriving!#Ok I wasn’t fully thriving but still. I had a 96% avg and was consistently churning out stellar work#plus I still had friends lol. uni has not been kind to me in that way#I miss it tbh. Like I defo had my ups and downs but god I was just such a different and better person then#I didn’t skip a single class in high school. Nowadays I skip half my lectures.#I just found out my com class is done with marked attendance so you bet your ass I’m gonna stop going to that!#like high school me could have never. high school me had 100% in bio 97% in physics and 96% in chem#and was looking forward to a career in stem. lol#anyway I’m just reminiscing#when I think about my childhood I get painfully nostalgic. When I think about high school I just feel sad that I’ve fallen so far#I miss being a good student who the teachers all liked who was in clubs and sports and leadership and the arts#and I recognize I could become that again if I really worked at it#but idk. something’s changed#I think I’m burnt out first and foremost. And then I just don’t care as much anymore. and as a result I’ve really stopped trying as hard#and it’s too bad#bro what happened to this post I was just gonna poke fun at myself for writing better in grade 11 than I do now years later#and then I had to get all sad about it
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i think i need to get off twitter so bad it’s like it knows i’m rlly struggling w the urges & im constantly seeing sh/ppl talking an sh… which is fine i j can’t keep triggering my depressed brain like this
#i’m rlly rlly rlly rlly trying not to sh#ik regressing back to old behaviors will not help me#it’s so hard tho but im trying so hard…. im trying so so hard#it’s my birthday friday & i don’t want to have deal physical wounds i don’t wanna turn 23 & have to deal with it#i feel paralyzed at the same time i know i will be okay either way#i want to get better
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He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.
“Uh.”
“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”
Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.
Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”
Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.
“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”
“Nope!”
“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”
Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.
“Deal.”
“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.
“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.
“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”
“What, you don’t have to do that.”
“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”
“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.
“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”
“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.
When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.
——
“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.
“Cass! What’s up?”
“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.
What…?
Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.
“Huh.”
“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.
“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”
“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.
“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.
“Woah!”
Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.
“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.
“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.
She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”
“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”
“Master Danny!”
Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”
Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.
But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?
Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.
Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.
——
“Cass? Why’d you call us?”
“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”
Cass paces.
“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.
“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”
“What.”
“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.
“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”
Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”
“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.
In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.
——
“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”
“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.
“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”
“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.
Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.
#danny phantom#Danny ‘plausible deniability’ Phantom#Jason Todd#red hood#batman#tim drake#dick grayson#cassandra cain#black bat#Tim usually would be a better liar#but usually he lies to Batman#not Danny#Cassandra Cain and these idiots that she unfortunately loves#Danny: you stabbed me so I’m keeping the knife#Danny plays finders keepers with Gotham muggers#he wins#cartwheeling in Wayne manor#dc x dp#dp x dc#bamf danny phantom
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#so like taking with the physical therapist yesterday helped me feel a bit more optimistic about my future#but they operate under the goal of getting people to as low of a pain rating as possible#which isn’t a bad thing!#but it’s just hard to believe them when they say that one of my goals is bringing my baseline pain down to a four (currently between 6 and 7#but used to be between 7 and 8)#like yes! it’s only been three months and my pain has gotten better but it just means that I’m able to do more to keep up with my peers#it was hindering me significantly and still does!#so whenever my pain decreases I do more and then my pain goes back up because half of it is just trying to live my life#my pain keeps me from functioning and doing things I want to do and I don’t even realize it because I’m so used to it#and that’s entirely due to my parents and the doctor not listening to me when I told them that I was in extreme joint pain year after year#and they dismissed me. They just dismissed me!#I could have gotten physical therapy so much earlier. It might have prevented tons of pain!#but I was ignored for five years and now I tell doctors my average pain level and they do a double take because a person should not be#going through their entire day at a 7! that’s not something most people are able to do let alone do every single day!!#but I never had any other choice#i bought myself a cane because I got tired of limping by the end of the day#I had no guidance or support. I barely knew what I was doing other than I needed something to help me when my hip won’t stay in place#I couldn’t even go to my parents because they wouldn’t believe me and they’d just make me feel bad for it!#I cannot conceptualize being in no pain because I almost never experience it#and apparently people aren’t even supposed to be in pain most of the time#it just. sucks. it really does
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A LUCKY ONE — satoru being sickeningly in love with you, gn! reader, you're naked in bed, calls you beauty
“well, well… look what we have here”, satoru’s morning voice wafts through the air as he lifts the blanket covering the two of you up, just a tiny bit but enough to take a peek — “a naked beauty in my bed”. the view of your bare legs (one of which is thrown over his) helps the idiotic smile on his lips crack wider. his lips look a little dry, you think. you haven’t kissed them since you fell asleep last night. you should fix that, you think, because yours start to feel a bit dry too.
you slowly charge towards his face with yours until your lips meet his for a short kiss. “you’re a lucky one — because i have a naked loser in mine”, you sigh as you pull away but—
—he pulls you back,
“oh, so?”, and effortlessly drags your body on top of his, wrapping his arms around you. both of his hands resting at the small of your back. “beauty and the loser sounds like a good match, no?”
“it’s not like i have much of a choice here. the beauty is stuck with the loser, you see”, you try to slip away but no use, he’s got you good — his arms won’t budge. “see what i’m talking about?”
“so you’d choose someone else to be stuck with if given the chance?”, he gasps, then purses his lips into a pout.
“as if you’d ever give me that chance”
“absolutely never”, he squeezes you tightly — physically emphasizing what he just said — before placing a hand at the back of your neck to pull your face close and hide it in the crook of his neck. “you’re mine”
“see, do i even have a choice?”, you try to hold back your chuckle at his adorable reaction.
“no. you’re stuck with this loser right here, like it or not”, he responds. still pouting, still holding you close.
“guess i have to learn to live with that”
“good. make sure to excel at it because it’s a matter of life and death — this loser can’t live without you”
“i’ll do my best then, or it’ll weigh on my conscious”
“that’s the only reason?”, another gasp leaves his mouth.
“hmm…”, you take your time before you continue, pretending to think very hard of another reason. “maybe the fact that he’s my loser has something to do with it, but i’m not very sure — either way, he’s a lucky one i’d say”
“yea”, his cheek squishes against your head, a pout still present on his lips. “he really is a lucky one, but you — you’re a very mean one, you know? just tell me you love me already”, he whines.
“or what?”
“or we’ll stay like this in bed all day”
“okay. i don’t mind”
“oh? neither do i, to be honest”, he snorts.
after all this is much better for him.
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