#Doctor Rewinder Machines

[syrecjh]

──★ ˙🍼 ̟ !! 24 Hours with Tiny Dynamight

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x reader, pure fluff

You’re not entirely sure how it happened. One moment, Endeavor was barking orders through the comms, smoke was rising in thick, tar-black ribbons, and the villain was cornered—palms sparking, eyes crazed, screaming something about “rewinding heroes to innocence.” The next, Katsuki Bakugo had thrown himself between you and a blast of shimmering violet light.

You remember his snarl. His teeth bared. “I said—watch your damn blind spot!”

And then the light swallowed him.

He's... gone.

Or, at least, that version of him is.

What’s left is a boy no older than five, blinking up at you with wide ruby-red eyes, fists clenched like he’s still ready for a fight.

You had blinked—and where the fury of Dynamight once stood, there was now a pint-sized version of him. Blonde, wild, and very, very small. His hair’s even more chaotic now, if that’s possible—fluffier, softer, sticking up like fire reaching for the sky. His voice, when it comes, is tinier. Sharper. Confused.

“Who are you?! Where’s my mom?! Where—where am I?!”

You freeze. So does everyone else.

His hero suit now slumped comically around a child-sized body, red eyes wide, blinking up at you with confusion and a wild streak of terror that turned into immediate rage.

Shoto drops the villain to the ground in shock. Izuku’s jaw falls open.

“Oh no,” Midoriya whispers. “That was a regression quirk. He’s been reverted… completely. Physically and mentally.”

“Oh, for the love of—” Endeavor growls. “I told you to stay put.”

And there was nothing else to say. Because the damage was done, and you were now holding a toddler-sized Bakugo back from lunging at a vending machine that apparently “looked at him funny.”

Back at Endeavor’s agency, the chaos truly bloomed.

The doctors said the quirk’s effects would last twenty-four hours. No longer. Which was, in theory, comforting.

In practice? Not so much.

Because Little Bakugo—who couldn’t have been more than five years old in this form—was an unholy combination of too much energy, zero filter, and a quirk that still sparked from his palms. Shoto tried reasoning with him. He got singed. Izuku tried logic. He got a plushie to the face. Endeavor? Bakugo bit his hand.

You?

He climbed onto your lap and refused to leave.

“Only she can touch me!” he screamed when Shoto tried to lift him. “She’s mine! You ugly fire popsicle! Back off!”

“Fire popsicle…” Shoto blinked. “That's new.”

“Deku, I swear if you try to hug me, I’ll explode your nose off!”

“But Kacchan, I’m just trying to—”

“BOOM!”

Sparks flared. Screams echoed.

You were the only one he didn’t try to incinerate.

When you brushed his hair back from his forehead, he calmed like lightning stilled by soft rain. When you tucked a blanket around him, he called you “the prettiest damn hero” and clung tighter.

He tried on sunglasses three sizes too big. Demanded a cape. Challenged Endeavor to a duel. Fell asleep on your chest mid-rant.

Shoto quietly took a photo.

Izuku followed.

Neither of them spoke. They just shared a look.

Blackmail material.

It was nearing dawn when the curse—or gift—began to lift.

You were curled on the agency’s couch, one arm around a snoring Little Bakugo, his tiny fingers knotted in your sleeve. The heat of him was familiar, even if the size was wrong. A quiet weight. A softer fire.

And then—

His body shifted.

Muscle. Mass. Full height.

You startled slightly as his adult form slumped against you, head pillowed right over your heart. His eyelashes fluttered. The boy was gone. King Explosion Murder had returned.

“…the hell?” he rasped.

You froze.

Katsuki Bakugo blinked up at you—chest to chest, cheek pressed to the curve of your collarbone, a confused warmth spreading across his face. A flush bloomed at his ears as he tried, and failed, to sit up gracefully.

“What… what the hell happened?!” he sputtered, flinging himself off the couch.

You blinked back a laugh. “Long story.”

Shoto, in the doorway, held up his phone. “You were very clingy.”

Izuku grinned beside him, scrolling through the gallery. “You called her ‘the prettiest damn hero.’”

Bakugo’s eye twitched. “Delete. Those. Now.”

“I already sent them to Kirishima,” Shoto said flatly.

You expected him to explode—literally—but instead, he turned slowly to you, mortification in every line of his face. “Did I… seriously say all that crap?”

You smirked. “You also bit Endeavor.”

“Worth it.”

He groaned, dragging his hand over his face. “Remind me never to save your life again.”

You stood, stretching, and walked past him—but not before whispering, “You also said I was yours.”

He froze.

You didn’t wait for his reply.

But as you glanced back at him—red-faced, shoulders tense, glaring at the ground like it just insulted his pride—you couldn’t help but think...

Maybe some quirks were blessings in disguise.

Especially the kind that turned a boy back into a child, just long enough to say the things his adult heart was too proud to admit.

[chadobi]

I just thought of this funny scenario: The rise boys (or just Mikey and Leo separately)have been pining after reader for YEARS, and one of reader’s guy friends (who knows about the turtles) gets more touchy and affectionate towards her. Cue jealous turtle that leads to them confessing. BUT when the boys are officially dating their crush, and prolly try to rub it in, the friend admits that he never liked reader that way, and just wanted to get the guys to confess (secret wingman lol)

Operation: Confess or Die

Hi guys! I hope everything’s good with you! Sorry I haven’t been very active lately, but I’m on medication from the doctor and it’s causing a hormonal storm, so I’m basically in a constant PMS mood 😭

Rise!Leo x Reader

Summary: Leo’s been secretly in love with you for years, but it’s all been stolen glances and half-baked plans. When your best guy friend Eli suddenly starts getting… touchy? Affectionate? Flirty? Leo loses it. The twist? Eli’s doing it all on purpose.

The city was buzzing below, all soft golden streetlamps and distant car horns. The spring air was warm with that faint scent of subway steam and night jasmine from your fire escape planter. It would’ve been perfect for a quiet night in—if Leonardo Hamato wasn’t currently having an emotional crisis in your living room.

Leo sat stiffly on the armrest of your couch, arms crossed, trying to act like he wasn’t calculating how many punches it’d take to knock Eli’s smirking teeth out of his face.

Three. Maybe four. But that’d be rude.

“I’m just saying,” Eli said, leaning a little closer to you with that lazy smile of his, “you should’ve seen her trying to win that claw machine last week. Fourteen tries. Fourteen. I had to physically drag her away.”

You gasped, shoving him playfully. “That thing was rigged!”

Leo watched as your shoulder pressed into Eli’s side. Your laughter rang out like a damn bell, and something sour twisted in his stomach.

You didn’t even notice his glare. Why would you? You were too busy watching Eli like he hung the damn moon.

Leo tried to calm himself. He’s just a friend. He’s always been around. Nothing’s different.

Except now Eli was brushing hair behind your ear. And calling you nicknames like “sweetheart” and “doll.”

And the worst part?

You weren’t stopping him.

Two hours later, Leo was back in the lair, face down on the floor of the dojo while Donnie ran diagnostics on a busted drone.

“I’m done,” Leo muttered into the mat. “I’m just gonna lay here forever. Maybe if I stay still long enough, time will rewind and I can delete all of tonight.”

Mikey flopped beside him, propping his chin on his hands. “You still didn’t tell her?”

Leo groaned. “I couldn’t. She was with him again.”

Donnie didn’t look up from his tablet. “The statistically improbable friend who’s suddenly acting like a human Labrador retriever?”

Raph crossed his arms from the doorway. “Maybe he’s got a thing for her.”

Leo flipped onto his back, face pale. “Do not say that.”

“Then do something!” Mikey chirped, poking his plastron.

“I had a plan,” Leo grumbled. “Phase One was charm. Phase Two was rooftop dinner. Phase Three included ambient jazz and maybe sparklers—”

“Yeah?” Donnie interrupted. “What phase are we in now? Emotional self-destruction?”

Leo groaned again. This time louder.

The next time Leo visited you, it was worse.

It was so much worse.

He arrived just before sunset, perching outside your fire escape to wait for your usual “come in” knock—except he didn’t knock. He froze instead, listening to the laughter spilling out from your living room.

You and Eli were on the couch, curled close over a shared phone screen, watching some dumb TikTok compilation. You were laughing so hard you had to clutch his arm for support. He didn’t pull away. In fact, he put his hand over yours.

Leo’s hands clenched the railing. He swore his blood pressure hit critical.

He jumped down, stormed across the fire escape like a soldier entering enemy territory, and knocked. You answered with your usual warmth, your face lighting up like it always did when you saw him—and for a split second, Leo’s fury melted like ice.

But then Eli appeared behind you.

“Leo!” you said, smiling. “Come hang out with us!”

“Yeah, c’mon in,” Eli added with a casual wave. “We were just watching fail videos. You’d be surprised how funny goats can be.”

Leo stepped inside, every muscle tight. The apartment smelled like popcorn and vanilla candles, and the sounds of bleating goats and screaming skateboarders echoed from the TV.

He sat on the farthest edge of the couch, as physically distant from Eli as possible.

You didn’t notice his glare. You were too busy rewinding a goat parkour clip.

But Leo noticed everything.

The way Eli kept “accidentally” brushing your hand. The way he leaned toward you to whisper some joke. The way you leaned back without hesitation.

And then—just as the next video loaded—Eli said it.

“Y’know,” he murmured, voice soft and just intimate enough, “I really love spending time with you lately.”

Leo blacked out for a second.

Then he stood up.

Fast.

“Okay—NOPE,” he snapped, pacing a tight line in front of your coffee table. “Nope nope nope nope—I can’t do this anymore, I’m gonna explode, I’m literally malfunctioning—”

“Leo?” you said, blinking. “Are you okay?”

Eli just sat back with a suspiciously neutral expression.

Leo whirled to face you, shoulders tense, eyes blazing.

“I like you,” he blurted. “Okay? I like you. Like—like like. Not just friendly ‘I’ll carry your groceries’ like, or ‘I’ll beat up a creep for you’ like—real, actual, romantic like. And I have for a long time.”

You stared at him, lips parting.

“I wanted to tell you ages ago, but then Eli was always around, and then he got weirdly touchy and then I panicked, and now I’m confessing in front of a goat video and this is not how I pictured this going—”

You stood slowly. Moved toward him.

“Leo.”

He stopped rambling.

You looked up at him—his cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes wide with panic.

And you smiled.

“About time,” you said softly.

His heart stopped.

You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I’ve liked you forever, dumbass.”

He blinked. “Wait—what?”

“I figured you’d tell me eventually,” you said, laughing. “But watching you squirm was kind of fun.”

From the couch, Eli stretched, popped his knuckles, and casually said:

“Well, my job here’s done.”

Leo snapped toward him. “Excuse me?”

Eli stood, brushing imaginary dust off his jeans. “I’ve known for like… years that you were in love with her. Figured if I upped the affection, you’d grow a spine.”

Leo’s jaw dropped. “You—you were faking it?!”

Eli winked. “You’re welcome, Blue Boy.”

Then he slung his hoodie over his shoulder and strolled toward the door.

You stifled a laugh behind your hand.

Leo turned back to you, flustered beyond belief.

“So… does this mean I get to kiss you now?”

You grinned. “Only if you swear you’re not gonna wait another three years to ask me out.”

[zeke-fanfucs]

angst... pls.... Karmor dead... Sad bvz crew.... Meeksies happy... Pretty please

I say as I scratch at your window 🙏😛

I actually made a few of these! This is my favorite! Also HIIIII @iqirius ! Love the little Karmor. It looks like Colt just took a bite on his face.

Dust Settles Slow

The sand was red.

Not the usual rust-stained dunes of Springrock, but the kind that sank heavy into the soil — blood pooling in the shallow depressions where Karmor had fallen.

He lay there, still.

Too still.

No glow of power.

No sudden, desperate gasp to prove them wrong.

Just… nothing.

The first sound was Albus.

A roar that shook the metal beams of the half-collapsed bounty station. He slammed his fist into the wall until the steel warped, knuckles splitting even with the demon-healing. It didn’t matter — the hurt wasn’t in his hands.

“You idiot! Why didn’t you— why didn’t you do anything?!”

It wasn’t anger at Karmor. It was at himself. At the way the fight replayed in his head — Karmor in his sights, an enemy gun drawn, and Albus too far away.

Hipswitch didn’t speak.

Didn’t breathe — not in the way machines pretended to.

He was already standing over the man who’d pulled the trigger, revolver in hand. The barrel didn’t even hesitate.

One shot. The killer dropped before the echo faded.

But there was no satisfaction in it. No justice.

Only an awful, metallic taste of failure.

When he turned back, Karmor’s body was still there, unmoving. Hipswitch holstered the gun like it weighed a thousand pounds.

“I’m… sorry, partner.”

The words came quiet. They felt useless.

Mahatma hadn’t moved since the moment the shot rang out.

His gaze fixed somewhere over Karmor’s shoulder, as if he could will the world to rewind if he just stared hard enough.

Inside, the grief was a crushing, white-hot static.

“…No.”

It was all he said. All he could say.

And then Attila was there — not by choice, but because Mahatma simply… wasn’t. The doctor’s body moved differently now, sharper, colder.

Attila knelt beside the corpse, scanning it not as a friend, but as a problem to be catalogued.

The detachment was terrifying. Necessary.

They took Karmor back to base in silence.

Albus trailed behind, blood dripping from his hands.

Hipswitch carried the body like something fragile that might break further if held too tight.

Attila led the way, eyes calculating, Mahatma’s voice buried so deep it was like he’d died alongside Karmor.

The wind picked up, sweeping across the desert. It stung their faces, rattled loose siding, and dragged sand over the crimson-stained ground until it was just another patch of Springrock dust.

By the time they reached home, it felt like Karmor had been gone for years.

And none of them knew what to do with the silence he left behind.

The medbay lights hummed. Too bright. Too clean.

They made the stillness worse.

Mahatma sat in the corner, knees pulled in, head resting against the cold metal wall.

Karmor lay on the bed just a few steps away — sheets pulled over his chest, the stillness of his frame cutting like glass.

Mahatma didn’t blink much anymore. Didn’t eat. Didn’t even change his shirt.

Every time someone passed the medbay, they saw the same scene: the doctor watching like he was waiting for a pulse.

“If he’s… if he’s not all the way gone,” Mahatma murmured once, “maybe there’s still a way.

People rot slower here, you know. Maybe if I— if I find it—”

Albus was the one who finally stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

He didn’t talk right away. Just stood there, demon eyes dim in the artificial light.

Then he crossed the room and crouched down in front of Mahatma.

“Doc… you’re killing yourself sittin’ here.”

Mahatma didn’t move. His voice cracked when he said,

“If I leave, he’ll wake up alone.”

Albus’s jaw tightened. He hated himself for the next part, but he grabbed Mahatma by the arms and hauled him up, ignoring the fight in the doctor’s body. Mahatma kicked, clawed, and shouted things Albus pretended not to hear.

“He’s gone!” Albus barked, the words slamming into the walls. “He ain’t comin’ back!”

The shouting stopped. Mahatma’s knees buckled. Albus caught him before he hit the floor.

He didn’t let go until the fight bled out of him, replaced by shaking.

Hipswitch wasn’t there.

He hadn’t been in the medbay since the day it happened.

The cowboy had thrown himself into every job that came their way — and then some.

Bounties with impossible odds. Gunfights in enemy towns. Missions they all knew were closer to suicide notes than contracts.

When Albus tried to call him on it, Hipswitch just said,

“If I keep movin’, I don’t… think too hard.”

But at night, up on the roof, Hipswitch would stop.

Look at the stars.

And remember the day Sensei had hired Hipswitch to kill him.

He’d laughed back then, a laugh that hurt in his chest. He couldn’t do it. Sensei had to push Hipswitch to do it.

Now, he would’ve given anything for the chance to go back, to do anything differently — to keep the man alive, even if it meant Karmor hating him.

Instead, he had the stars. And the bitter knowledge that whatever purpose he’d been faking before…

it was gone now.

[lewismcqueen]

work husband. 02

lh44 x black!reader

read from beginning 03 masterlist summary: after talking things out, you bump into Lewis on the weekend. wc: 1,724 a/n: sped up the pacing bc i'm tryna wrap this up by pt 3 lol. enjoy!

Unfortunately, the next morning you fully remembered the night before. You found yourself rewinding it as you removed your work clothes (now soaked-through with bedtime sweat) to take the quickest shower you’d ever had to manage in your entire life. The look he had given you at the bar, the reluctance to take back his own jacket—did you imagine some of it? Insert a longing expression where there wasn’t one? 

It would have been easier to blame everything on the alcohol if not for the unusual silence you were met with once you finally made it to the office. Lewis greeted you with a smile, of course, but he didn’t bother you with random questions or offer to pass you a snack. He stayed to his cubicle, only speaking when necessary. Naomi gave you a look as if she wanted to ask if something was up, but elected not to say anything.

Things were like this on Wednesday. Then again on Thursday. By the time Friday rolled around, you’d had enough.

“Hey, can we talk? In the break room.”

“What for? You alright?”

Lewis’ brows knit together with worry as he followed you into a small space equally as bland as the rest of the office, with one rickety folding table standing in the middle on which sat a simple coffee machine. A few packets of Swiss Miss powder and a single cup of creamer sat in the barrel of it. Thankfully, no one else was there, so you shut the door quietly behind you. 

“Are we good?” You gestured between yourself and him.

He blinked. “I would hope so. Why d’you ask?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged. “You’ve just been…quiet this week.”

A thin smile spread across his lips.

“Can I not have a moment of solitude?”

You crossed your arms. “Lewis.”

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in surrender before dropping them to his sides, a more earnest look coloring his expression. “I thought you might want some space after Monday night.”

You opened your mouth to respond, then closed it. The haste with which you had ended that night made it seem like you were more sure than you really were that you didn’t want anything between you two. Even now, you held your mind back from imagining how that night would’ve gone if you had stayed at the bar a little longer. You shook your head.

“I told you it was fine. I don't want…” You trailed off, noticing how terse your voice had gotten. “You don't have to keep your distance, or anything.”

Lewis said nothing for a moment, studying your face the way he had that night as if he was looking for something. 

“I won't, then.”

A knock at the door interrupted your conversation, followed by a familiar voice:

“Are you guys making out in there? I need coffee!”

Lewis sighed, and you looked at him with a grin before turning to open the door, revealing Charles standing in the doorway. The man had blue-ish bags beneath his eyes, dark hair sticking out in multiple directions.

“Sheesh. You look like you died twice,” you remarked, quickly moving out of the way so that he could enter. “We were just chatting.”

Lewis’ brows shot up to his hairline. “Jesus, Charles. What happened?”

He shared a dead-eyed stare between the both of you.

“Overtime.”

With solemn nods all around, you and Lewis left the breakroom, bringing your discussion to a tentative close.

He found you again at the end of the day as you packed your things to leave. His knuckles tightened around the handle of his black crossbody bag, as if he was holding on for dear life. No other part of Lewis' body language betrayed any sort of hesitation as he casually threw his jacket over his shoulder and sauntered over to your desk, sing-songing your name.

You looked up and grinned.

“Have you finally realized that you can't live without my meticulous note-taking?”

“Your handwriting is about as easy to read as a doctor's note, so no,” he said with a cheeky smile. “I was gonna ask for your number, actually.”

You frowned in confusion. “Don't you have my number?”

Lewis shook his head. “I have your personal email, which you occasionally use like a messaging app,” he raised an eyebrow, “but not your number.”

You unlocked your phone and created a new contact before handing it over to him. 

“Knock yourself out.”

-

Lewis H: Hey 👋🏾 

You: I don't think that emoji matches your skintone bruv

Lewis H: wowww

You: 😁

Lewis H: this convo just started and I'm already being bullied.

You: Wouldn't be me if you weren't 🫶🏾

-

The weekend rolled around, and you remembered your promise to yourself to get out more after looking in the mirror and realizing how dull your usually-warm brown skin had gotten over the winter months. This could not stand.

Luckily for you, it was nice out today—the kind of sunshine that made grass look greener and cast a golden hue over everything, like the saturation had been turned up. None of that watery winter sunlight that fooled you into thinking that the temperature had actually gone up. You wore a black sundress with a golden butterfly pattern around the skirt, short enough to make sure your legs got just as much sun as your chest and arms. Car keys in hand and purse sitting in the passenger’s seat, you set your destination to the nearest restaurant with outdoor seating.

You shifted uncomfortably on a hard folding chair as you waited for your menu to arrive, the sun having heated the metal before you got there. Just when you lifted a hand to shield your eyes from it, a man's passing shadow gave you a moment of shade. Your eyes adjusted before widening once the man's face came into view.

“Lewis?”

He stopped, loose braids whipping around his face as his head snapped in your direction. Recognition spread across his features.

“Holy shit, you exist outside of work?”

“Yup, I keep the same name and everything. 

You rested your chin in your palm and gave him a once-over. Lewis wore chunkier earrings that glittered with every movement. A Cuban link chain peeked out from beneath a boxy, bright red shirt with two buttons left open to expose a patch of bronze skin. His shorts matched in color, which you found slightly amusing. 

He gestured towards the empty seat in front of you. “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.”

A waiter came around with two menus just as he sat down. He messed with the ring on his left hand—much larger and shinier than the understated band he wore around the office—and scanned the menu with a frown.

“Not finding anything?” 

“Not yet. Have they got a vegan menu?”

Your lips pursed in thought as you traced your finger down your own menu.

“Shit, I don't think they do,” you said, giving Lewis an apologetic look. “Sorry about that.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Don't worry, it's not like you've dragged me over here. I'll figure something out.”

You closed your menu and hummed, looking deep in thought.

“Did you drive here?”

“Nah, I don't live far. I actually wanted to check this place out,” he flashed a smile, “Happy coincidence that I ran into you.”

“Good,” you leaned in conspiratorially. “Can I take you somewhere else?”

Lewis’ eyes went wide. “Take me?”

You snorted, “Yes, take you. Unless you feel weird and emasculated by that—”

“No, not all!” He laughed. “I've just never had anyone offer before.”

You rose from your seat, smoothing your dress over after pushing it back in. 

“I know an Ethiopian place down the street. You like spicy food?”

Lewis placed a hand over his chest, as if he had just been gravely insulted.

“What kind of man would I be if I didn't? Spices run through my bloodstream.”

Your car was parked just a couple of blocks down, a shiny black Infiniti that you never let stay dirty for more than 24 hours. You didn't notice Lewis watching the way your hips swayed in the sundress as you made your way to the driver's seat. The air filled with that spicy-woody scent that seemed to be his signature as he slid into the passenger’s side and firmly shut the door.

“How's my lil’ passenger prince doing?” You asked with a smirk, one hand resting on the wheel.

An unrecognizable look flashed across his face, and you could've sworn you saw his Adam's apple bob up and down, as if he'd just swallowed or gulped. White teeth found his bottom lip, trying and failing to hold back a smile.

“I'm all good, trust me. I actually don't love driving that much.” 

-

“Damn, you fuckin’ those mushrooms up!”

Lewis looked up from his plate and spoke through a mouthful of inguday tibs, the food muffling his speech. “It's amazing! You've got to try this.”

You laughed as you speared a well-seasoned vegetable with your fork and pushed your plate forward.

“Just gimme a little.”

He plopped a sizable amount of the dish onto your plate, and you added it to your fork before bringing it up to your lips to taste.

Your eyes became saucers as the spices burst in your mouth, brightened by a hint of citrus in the background. 

“Yeah, this is the one,” you nodded. “If I had no home training I'd take your plate and start eating the rest of it.”

Lewis chuckled as he watched you eat. “I'll have to come back here with you then, so you can order yourself some.”

You looked up and tilted your head. 

“Could I not order it on my own?”

He winked, “You could, but I'd rather be there paying for it.”

Whatever witty thing you were about to say next died on your tongue, your mouth falling open in shock. After picking your jaw up off the floor, a timid smile spread across your lips.

“Are you asking me out?”

Lewis winced, some of that confidence melting away. “That was too forward, wasn't it.”

“Considering that I'm about to make plans for next weekend? Not at all.”

He perked up. “So it's a date?”

The eagerness in his tone drove up your heart rate. 

“Yes, it's a date, Hamilton. Get with the program!”

[1bibypersecond]

I just don’t get how they built such a beautiful connection between Viktor and Sky (or HexcoreSky, whatever you want to call her) in Acts 1 and 2, only to destroy it all in Episode 8 with a super rushed goodbye, and then give us a Viktor without humanity for just one episode (or half, really). And then, his "best friend" suddenly accepts him as he is when Sky had done that all along?

Like, if they were going to do that, they should’ve just written Sky out way earlier and let us have this no-humanity Viktor on screen for way longer. And don’t even get me started on the fandom. They don’t get that it was Ekko who saved Viktor, not Jayce. Ekko was the one stepping out of Viktor’s equation, not Jayce. Plus, in Season 1, the mage that gave Jayce the rune design was based on Ryze, so that whole Viktor Doctor Strange time-travel vibe in Episode 9 just felt... so bland. I’m over the whole time-travel trope—it’s so overused that it’s boring. I always knew Ekko would be the one to do it because that’s his whole character, but Viktor? Ugh, it felt like they were trying to wrap everything up way too quickly in the last episode, so they just threw in time-rewinding to make it all fit. Honestly, I rolled my eyes so hard when Viktor started his speech to Jayce about the different timelines. I was like, "Oh no, here we go."

Honestly, I get why League of Legends fans didn’t like Viktor’s rework. Mechanical Herald Viktor was way more tied to the social inequality conflict between Zaun and Piltover, something I was really hoping they’d explore in more depth. The new Viktor is much more connected to the arcane and magic, which is fine—I like cult-leader Viktor—but it loses that important conflict we saw in Season 1.

We were all excited to see Viktor’s final evolution, which lasted… half an episode? Why? Like I said, they could’ve written Sky out way earlier, given that her ending was so lackluster, and spent more time exploring this emotionless being. Maybe he was just too OP and they couldn’t keep his superpowers on-screen for too long without completely wrecking the world. I get that. Machine Viktor could’ve lasted longer because he wasn’t tied to those arcane powers.

I get it, the show is called Arcane, but the conflict between Zaun and Piltover made it feel so much more relatable. As someone from Latin America, watching how northern hemisphere countries pollute my country, dump their waste here, and have companies that destroy our environment (it's not like we don't do it to ourselves but it's still a form of oppression)—it’s a form of first-world oppression that I saw reflected in Season 1 of Arcane. But Season 2? It felt so distant. Magic isn’t real in real life, and yet Season 1 balanced magic so well that it still resonated with issues like social, economic, educational, and environmental oppression. Season 2, though, started to drift away from that. Sure, at first, you see more of that Zaun/Piltover conflict, especially with Caitlyn and the oppressive martial law (because yes, that’s literally a dictatorship). But then Jayce swoops in like, “Hey, we’ve got a bigger enemy, let’s team up,” and boom—Marvel finale.

Anyway, these are just some fever-induced thoughts I’ve been having. My ideal ending? Viktor slowly becoming Singed, like they hinted in Season 1 with that “I understand now” line. Viktor as the Herald, tucked away in a corner of Zaun like Singed, secretly helping people—not driven by feelings or morality, but by a greater good: helping those in need. Meanwhile, his humanity (Sky) tries to find him somewhere deep in his mind, ultimately leading to the creation of Blitzcrank. That’s what I thought we were getting. Instead, we got astral destruction and a bromance. Oh well, it is what it is.

[adacatlovelace]

Okay I think I finally understand Emesis Blue. Major Spoilers below.

So the first thing you have to understand about Emesis Blue is that, while it seems to change a lot of TF2's lore at first, it simply grounds it in reality to examine how such an wacky insane world could be possible and the ramifications of many things we simply take for granted.

It begins with the CEO of Helix Industries funding a respawn machine to give Redmond and Blutarch bodies for their outrageously long gravel war. It works through the use of time manipulation, bring a person back from death by rewinding their timeline back to when they were alive. This can also be done multiple times to create copies of people. However, their consciousness still dies, leaving them to experience an eternity, driving them insane. This is the "Respawn Gap" the time between death and respawn. This is treated with Diazapam disguised as Valium to make them forget the respawn gap

10 people are found to be respawn compatible, but the nameless DOD solider/10th class was subjected to the respawn gap so much that they'd immediately kill themselves upon respawn. However, soldier became the perfect candidate for all the tests done. He didn't need to take the diazapam because his mind was already broken. (As an aside, I dont think the soldier in Emasis Blue actually served in the military. Hell, soldiers whole thing is thinking that he did because he's an absolute lunatic)

At some point, Archibald stepped down from Helix, leaving the faceless man in black in charge while Archibald took over running Builders League for Blutarch Mann. Still needing someone to do his dirty work, he hires Spy as his right hand man, tasking him with first executing Heavy, Sniper and Scout for "Treason" (Not clear what actually caused it, but those three are important)

Meanwhile, the Conagher Slaughterhouse is converted from a testing site for the respawn machine to a disposal site for the many corpses from both testing and the gravel wars, run the Conagher "brothers" two flawed respawn clones of the engineer.

On top of this, the Man in Black utilized it to continue research the means of true immortality, without the flaws of the respawn machine. To accomplish this, he brings in a Red Medic as well as Sniper and Heavy, previously killed by BLU and now working with the man in Black. Alongside them, he also brings in a respawn clone of Ludwig, the Plague Doctor or M, as well as Pyro, who likely took the job out of their own sadistic nature.

It blurs the line between Ludwig and M becuase the fact of the matter is that they are the same person, M simply being a version of Ludwig that didn't have the madness brought on by the Respawn Gap. Unfortunately for Scout, the respawn machine malfunctions and he's officially fired from BLU. Not wanting to take the hit lying down, he plans on taking legal action against BLU, either risking drawing attention to Helix or simply causing trouble for BLU. As a result, M and Pyro are sent to make him disappear.

However, like the darkness that Ludwig is constantly fighting, theres still a trace of good in M. Like M from the movie, he wanted the death to end so he works to bring Ludwig to Conagher Slaughterhouse, knowing Spy and Soldier to follow them and for them to learn the truth.

At the same time, information about the respawn testing is begins to surface and Archibald needs to disappear for a bit, planning on using the respawn machine at the slaughterhouse to come back when things either clear up or he can make an escape. However, the respawn machine in the slaughterhouse had whatever device was responsible for the time manipulation previously moved somewhere else that needed it and needed to be transported back by Heavy.

So the events of Emesis BLU happen, M locking Archibald in the dungeon to trap him so that he could be found and likely killed by Spy. Various time anomalies happen due to the presence of the briefcase. Everything comes crashing down and Ludwig shoots himself knowing that M is still out there, waiting to enact the final part of his plan. M kills Spy, Soldier kills Blutarch (and inadvertently Redmond) M crashes his ambulance, and Medics fractured soul finally finds peace in the afterlife.

However, like demo says "Our true enemy has yet to reveal himself" referring to the man in black.

[everwhovian]

Can you do a continuation of that junho making inho choose yuna fic?? Except it’s inho and yuna being there with junho as he’s dying cause he wasn’t able to have a transplant done?? I want more angst to be put out into the world😔

I am sobbing! I can tell that you want more angst to be put out into the world... my sanity is slipping, oh my god. 😭

(warnings: major character death)

Part 1 | part 2 | part 3

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The machines have gone quiet.

Not off. Just turned down – like the hospital is trying to be kind about it. Like soft beeps and gentle blinking lights can somehow make any of this easier.

The room smells like antiseptic and the faintest trace of blood. The kind of smell that clings to skin, seeps into clothes. In-ho doesn’t think it’ll ever leave him.

Jun-ho is dying.

They don’t say that, not out loud. They call it “comfort measures.” They call it “letting him go peacefully.” But it’s all the same.

He’s lying in the same damn bed he’s been in for weeks, only now he barely looks like himself. Pale, too thin, bones sharp under fragile skin. His chest rises in shallow stutters. His lips are cracked. His fingers twitch every now and then – like he’s trying to hold onto something that keeps slipping away.

In-ho is sitting beside him, hand wrapped gently around Jun-ho’s wrist. It feels too small. Too cold. Too still.

His little brother is slipping away in front of him, and In-ho is powerless to stop it.

Jun-ho’s chest rises, slow and shallow, like each breath is a fight his body’s already lost interest in. His lips are dry. His eyelids flutter but barely open anymore.

He’s here.

But not for long.

Yuna is on the other side of the bed, bundled in a wheelchair with blankets wrapped tight around her legs, her face pale and wet with tears. She hasn’t stopped crying. Not since the nurse said the words: “It won’t be long now.”

They’re not prepared.

They’ve known this was coming, but they’re not prepared.

In-ho’s chest feels like it’s being torn apart slowly, piece by piece. He keeps trying to breathe, but it doesn’t work. Every inhale tastes like guilt.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

He was supposed to fix it. He always fixed it.

He thinks about when Jun-ho was six and woke up in the middle of the night crying because of a nightmare. Their mother was working the night shift. In-ho had still been up after a long shift. He’d crawled into bed with Jun-ho, wrapped his arms around him, and whispered, “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

Jun-ho had believed him.

In-ho had believed himself.

He doesn’t know what the hell to say now.

In-ho sits on the other side of the bed, knees pressed close, one hand gently cradling the side of Jun-ho’s face, brushing his thumb along his cheekbone.

Jun-ho’s eyelids flutter. It takes effort for him to open them, and when he does, his gaze lands on In-ho. Not scared. Not angry. Just tired.

“M’tired,” he murmurs.

In-ho swallows hard. “I know. It’s okay. You can rest.”

He brushes his thumb gently over the inside of Jun-ho’s wrist. It’s all he can do. He wants to crawl into that bed and hold him like he used to. Wants to rewind time. Wants to scream.

Jun-ho turns his head slightly. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” In-ho lies. “I’m not mad.”

He’s shattered.

He’s so angry – at the world, at the doctors, at himself. But not at Jun-ho. Never at Jun-ho.

Jun-ho’s eyes flick to Yuna. He smiles – barely. “You look better.”

She lets out a strangled laugh. “I should. You gave me your future.”

Jun-ho’s voice is fading. “It was never mine.”

In-ho closes his eyes. That line will haunt him for the rest of his life.

He feels like he’s failing in every direction.

He couldn’t save Jun-ho.

He couldn’t convince him.

He couldn’t even get their mother here in time.

She wanted to come. Of course she did. But someone had to work. Someone had to keep paying rent. Keep the electricity on. Keep pretending that they were just a normal family with normal problems.

He should’ve told her. He should’ve made her quit. He should’ve made it happen.

Jun-ho deserved his whole family there, not just what was left of it.

“I’m sorry,” Jun-ho whispers.

In-ho snaps out of it. “No. No, don’t –”

But Jun-ho’s eyes are already slipping shut.

“I just… wanted you to be okay,” he breathes. “That’s all.”

“We’re okay,” In-ho says quickly, desperately. “We’re okay. Me and Yuna, we’re okay.”

Jun-ho smiles faintly. “Good.”

Everything goes still. Too still. In-ho squeezes Jun-ho’s hand.

“Hey,” In-ho whispers, desperately. “Still with me?”

Jun-ho’s lips twitch. A tiny smile, crooked and faint. “M’here.”

In-ho huffs a breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “Good. You better be. I didn’t shave for this.”

That gets a weak sound – almost a laugh. It breaks In-ho’s heart.

“You remember that time you shaved off your eyebrows?” In-ho says softly. “You were eight. You thought it’d make you faster at dodgeball.”

Jun-ho’s mouth moves, like he’s trying to laugh again. “Didn’t help.”

“No,” In-ho says. “You cried the whole way to school. Wouldn’t take your hood off for a week.”

Jun-ho makes a little noise – half amusement, half ache. His fingers twitch in Yuna’s hand.

In-ho leans a bit closer, brushing Jun-ho’s hair gently back. “You always looked up to me... I never got it.”

Jun-ho’s voice is barely there. “You were always there.”

That nearly undoes him.

In-ho swallows around the lump in his throat. “You made it easy.”

He leans in until their foreheads are almost touching, until he can feel Jun-ho’s breath ghosting against his own.

“I was seventeen when I started raising you, Jun-ho,” he whispers. “I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I burned your lunch, I forgot your homework, I cried in the shower more nights than I can count.”

A breath. Sharp. Shaking.

“But I never – never – regretted it.”

Jun-ho blinks slowly, like every movement takes effort now.

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me,” In-ho says. “You made me better. You made me… me.”

Jun-ho shifts slightly, eyes glassy. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” In-ho says, voice cracking now. “God, Jun-ho, I love you so much.”

His hand slides down, carefully tucking the blanket tighter around Jun-ho’s chest. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fix this. I tried. I tried everything.”

“You stayed,” Jun-ho whispers.

In-ho squeezes his hand. “Always.”

Another breath. Slower this time. A pause between the inhale and the exhale that lasts just a bit too long.

“You can rest now,” In-ho whispers. “I’ve got you.”

The silence stretches.

And In-ho can feel it – the shift. It’s not sudden, not some clean break. It’s gradual. Like watching light dim. Like something slipping out of reach.

Jun-ho’s fingers twitch again, but slower now. His breaths come farther apart. Each one a little thinner. A little shallower.

His face is pale, mouth slightly parted, eyes half-closed.

And In-ho knows.

He sees it happening.

Sees the end inching closer – not in some dramatic crash, but in the quiet unraveling of a body that’s done everything it can.

“No,” In-ho whispers.

Yuna hears it. She’s still in the wheelchair beside Jun-ho’s bed, bundled in a blanket, her fingers wrapped tightly around Jun-ho’s hand. She doesn’t speak. Her other hand comes up to cover her mouth, eyes already swimming, trying to be strong. Trying not to break.

In-ho stands before he even realizes he’s moving. He circles the bed, pulling the blanket back with shaking hands.

The nurse had told him Jun-ho wouldn’t feel much anymore. But In-ho doesn’t care. He won’t let him die alone. Not upright in a chair. Not watching.

He climbs carefully into the bed, maneuvering around the wires and tubes, easing himself beside Jun-ho. It’s cramped, but he makes space. Pulls Jun-ho close – gently, gently – his arms folding around the boy’s frail frame.

He feels the ribs beneath the gown. The uneven rise and fall of his chest.

He tucks his chin against Jun-ho’s temple, brushing his fingers through his hair.

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

Yuna leans forward from her wheelchair, clutching Jun-ho’s hand in both of hers, her thumbs brushing over his knuckles.

Jun-ho shifts. Just barely. His head tucks closer into In-ho’s shoulder, his breath warm and shaky against In-ho’s neck.

Then –

“Love you,” Jun-ho breathes.

It’s so soft. So faint. Like a secret.

In-ho shuts his eyes.

His arms tighten. “I love you, too,” he says. “So much, Jun-ho. So much.”

Yuna lets out a quiet, broken sound. “We love you,” she whispers. “Always.”

Jun-ho lets out a long, trembling sigh.

And that’s the last sound he makes.

His body stills.

His chest doesn’t rise again.

And In-ho just holds him.

Like he used to, all those nights after nightmares.

Like he did when Jun-ho was little and the world was too big.

He holds him through it – through the silence and the stillness and the breaking of his own heart. He presses his lips to Jun-ho’s hair and whispers the only words he has left.

“You did so good,” he murmurs. “You held on so long. You were so brave.”

Yuna lets her head fall forward, shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she holds Jun-ho’s lifeless hand in hers.

In-ho stays wrapped around his brother’s body, his chest pressed to Jun-ho’s back, his tears soaking into the gown. He presses his cheek to Jun-ho’s temple and closes his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “You can rest now.”

Jun-ho doesn’t move.

He is gone.

And In-ho stays there, hands clinging like letting go might mean losing him all over again.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers again.

But now, it’s only an echo.

And the room holds its breath with them.

One heartbeat gone.

And two broken pieces left behind to carry it.

[khorazir]

Fic Writer Meme

I’m quite late to this, but thanks a lot for the tag @discordantwords

How many works do you have on ao3? 30 in total. Most are for BBC Sherlock, three are for Dead Boy Detectives

What’s your total word count? 1,574,736 (how did that happen?)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Enigma

The Horse and his Doctor

Rewind

Putting up Shelves

The Summer Boy

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Yes, I do, although sometimes, it takes me a while.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

All of my fics have happy endings. For a while, I played with an angsty ending for my WW2 codebreaker fic Enigma, but ultimately decided against it and gave the boys their deserved happy ending.

Do you write crossovers?

Yes, kinda. I’m currently writing a Dead Boy Detectives fic (The Case of the Stolen Barrow) that borrows characters from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld. And there is going to be a crossover between Sherlock and Dead Boy Detectives as the next fic in this series.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really, but there has been what I like to refer to as the Rabies Incident for my Horselock fic The Horse and his Doctor. When I mentioned that John, a veterinarian, would insist on a rabies shot for an animal he found, I got a number of messages from UK citizens reminding me that there is no rabies in the UK (even though I had checked with actual UK vets before and they’d said that of course they’d give a rabies shot to an animal of unknown origin). But yeah, just so that people know, there is no rabies in the UK ;)

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, kinda. Most of the sex scenes I have written are rather emotional and a little awkward and experimental (and thus hopefully realistic).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Some have ended up on Wattpad and in other places where they shouldn’t have been. I wouldn’t really call that stealing. I think (I hope) in most cases those who uploaded them there didn’t have any bad intentions. I don’t like it, though. The same goes for my art, which has been stolen and ended up on t-shirts and stuff without my authorisation.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I used to co-write Tolkien fanfic on messageboards back in the late 1990s and early 2000s, but eventually, my co-authors dropped off, so the fics were never completed.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

At the moment Johnlock and Payneland, but I also have a soft spot for Faramir and Éowyn (book only!), and Laura Holt and Remington Steele.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I do try to finish all my WIPs, although it sometimes takes me a long, long time. Although I have an inkling that The Passage may never be finished ...

What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m quite good at writing dialogue and descriptions of places.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing smut is not my forte, I guess.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I have included dialogue in other languages in several of my fics, but they are always languages I either speak fluently or have at least a working knowledge of.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

If you count a machine-typed fic from the early 1990s, it’s Indiana Jones.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

At the moment, I’ve got my hands full with four idiot detectives, two alive and two dead.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

Oooh, that’s difficult. I have a soft spot for The Summer Boy, and also Slipstream and Nightjet. And my cracky Dead Boy Detectives fic The Petition because I had so much fun writing about demons bitching about their work conditions in Hell.

I don’t know who has been tagged before, so if you’d like to play, please do.

[trulysummersprivate]

"You drew stars around my scars ✨"

I'm Dr Petra Grey-Summers, but you can just call me Petra. I just moved into The Avengers Tower as the official Mutant Therapist, offering my services to our future heroes and current team because I believe even heroes need help sometimes.

I do have a mutation of my own, nothing special but Professor X calls it Chronokinesis, I can pause, rewind and fast forward through time which helps when clients want total privacy in their sessions.

Ask me anything! I will be here posting excerpts from my diary, my thoughts and feelings, answering questions about the Mutant Academy as I was schooled there and anything else you all need! The excerpts will be edited to protect my clients identities of course, Doctor Patient confidentiality but yeah! Happy to be here.

A few things: I do like Taylor Swift (calm down @purpleprincessonfyre) but I also like Dolly Parton, Queen, Florence and The Machine and MARINA.

I am NOT a superhero. I do not handle weapons or fight crime. I sit at my desk and listen to your problems. Only thing I fight is depression, anxiety and inner demons. I don't Don any capes or catsuits unless it's Halloween night.

Yes my folks are Jean Grey and Scott Summers and yes that was tricky but I was mostly raised by my grandparents while they were still X-Men, on their farm in Tennessee so I'm a little country.

I love hot teas and a good cosy night in watching cheesy rom coms with a bucket of buttered popcorn on my lap.

Yes my hair is naturally red, you can thank my Mom for that and yes I do get freckles in the summer.

And finally, I kind of want a pet but I doubt they'd allow that at the Tower? Maybe a teacup poodle would be okay? I love dogs.

Okay that's all, I think. For now 🍂

Come say hi!

@askstevella @ask-missparker @ask-starrk @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @cherrysft @meiramel

[overlordmetal]

Art Rewind: Marvel

"Cyclops" (Marvel NOW)

While I’m not too big on comics from today or the past decade, I did really like the design they gave Cyclops for the Marvel Now era, prompting me to sketch him in 2019. I found said sketch and colored it digitally to give it a nice finish.

"Attack of The Goblin"

Drawn in 2020 as a birthday gift for @espeiderman.

"Doctor Doom"

Inspired by Hamlet, I drew this in 2021 after gaining a newfound appreciation for the character.

"i Am Machine"

Inspired by the album cover of Three Days Grace’s "Human", I drew a more Ultron-inspired version in 2021.

"Punisher"

Drawn as a birthday gift for someone I’d role played with for a while back in 2021.

"Captain America"

Drawn in 2021 to celebrate American Independence Day. As Axl Rose once said in a Guns N' Roses song (if you know, you know), "Captain America's been torn apart, now he's a court jester with a broken heart".

"Big Bertha"

Drawn in 2022, Big Bertha is probably my favorite obscure Marvel character, I’d love to see more of her around.

"Reflection"

I was really in a zone when I drew this one back in 2023 for @espeiderman’s birthday, I still like how moody the whole thing turned out.

"Ghost-Spider redesign"

A reference sheet I drew for a client of their own interpretation of Spider-Gwen back in April.

"Seeing Red"

A little comic strip I made in June about Scott and Jean from the X-Men comics.

"Eye-to-Eye"

A quick artwork I drew of Marvel’s Cyclops and Wolverine, perhaps the most prolific rivalry within the X-Men. My friend had been asking me to redraw an artwork of his depicting the dynamic between the two characters, so it was good to finally get around to that.

"Wolverine"

A birthday gift for my good friend, I’d seen Deadpool & Wolverine recently at the time, which inspired me to draw the famed X-Man himself.

[am0ralexis]

Please Wake Up (angst/sad) 💔❤️‍🩹

The beeping of the monitor is the only sound in the room. It’s steady, constant, a cruel reminder that she’s still here, but not really here. I’m sitting in this damn chair, the one that’s too hard and too small, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, my hands clasped together so tight my knuckles are white. I can’t stop staring at her. Y/N. She looks so fragile, so unlike herself. Tubes and wires snake around her, machines doing the work her body can’t right now. Her chest rises and falls, but it’s mechanical, artificial. And her face… her face is so still. No smile, no crinkle of her nose when she laughs, no spark in her eyes. Just… nothing.

I want to scream. I want to shake her awake. I want to rewind time and take back every stupid word I said. But I can’t. All I can do is sit here and talk to her, even though she can’t hear me. Can she? The doctors don’t know. They say talking might help, that it might pull her back to me. So I talk. I talk until my throat feels raw, until I’m choking on my own words.

“You remember that time we went to the beach?” I start, my voice cracking. I clear my throat, trying to steady it. “It was that stupid little lake, not even a real beach, but you were so excited. You packed this ridiculous picnic—sandwiches, chips, fucking hummus—and made me carry it all. And then, when we got there, it started raining. Just pouring. But you… you just laughed. You threw your head back and laughed, like it was the funniest thing in the world. And then you grabbed my hand and dragged me into the water. ‘If we’re gonna get wet anyway, might as well commit,’ you said. God, you were so… you.”

I stop, swallowing hard. My chest feels like it’s being crushed. I reach out, brushing my fingers against her hand. It’s warm, but it’s not her. It’s not the way she usually holds my hand, squeezing it like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.

“Why did we fight?” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the beeping. “It was so stupid, Y/N. So fucking stupid. I don’t even remember what it was about. Something dumb, something that didn’t matter. But you got mad, and you left, and I didn’t stop you. I just let you go. I should’ve stopped you. I should’ve… I should’ve done something. Anything.”

The guilt is a weight I can’t shake. It’s suffocating me, pulling me under. I squeeze her hand, desperate for some kind of response, some sign that she’s still in there. But there’s nothing. Just the steady rise and fall of her chest, the relentless beeping of the monitor.

I lean back in the chair, running a hand through my hair. It’s a mess, greasy and tangled, but I don’t care. I haven’t showered since it happened. I haven’t done much of anything except sit here, waiting for her to wake up.

“You have to wake up, Y/N,” I say, my voice breaking again. “You have to. I can’t… I can’t do this without you. You’re my person, remember?” I laugh, but it’s hollow, a bitter sound that echoes in the sterile room. “That’s what you always said. ‘I’m your person, Alex. You’re stuck with me.’ Well, I’m holding you to that. You don’t get to leave me. Not like this.”

The tears come then, hot and unstoppable. I don’t bother wiping them away. What’s the point? They’re just another reminder of how helpless I am, how powerless. I can’t fix this. I can’t make it better. All I can do is sit here and wait, and hope that somewhere, somehow, she can hear me.

“Do you remember our first date?” I ask, my voice thick with tears. “It wasn’t even supposed to be a date. We just went to that crappy diner because neither of us had any money. You ordered pancakes, even though it was, like, 8 PM, and you teased me for getting a burger. ‘Who eats a burger at a diner?’ you said. And then you stole my fries when you thought I wasn’t looking. I pretended not to notice because the way you smiled when you thought you got away with it… it was the best fucking thing I’d ever seen.”

I stop, taking a shaky breath. The memories are flooding in now, unstoppable, and I can’t decide if it’s a relief or torture. Every moment with her flashes through my mind, every laugh, every touch, every stupid little thing that made me fall for her in the first place.

“You made me so happy, Y/N,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “You still do. Even now, even like this… you’re my whole world. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if you don’t wake up. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep breathing if I don’t have you.”

The room is silent except for the beeping of the monitor. I don’t know if she can hear me. I don’t know if she’s ever going to hear me again. But I keep talking, because it’s all I can do.

“Remember when we went to that concert?” I ask, forcing a smile through the tears. “The one where you convinced me to wear that ridiculous hat? I looked like an idiot, but you said it was cute, and then you kissed me, and I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care about anything except you. That’s how it’s always been with you, Y/N. You make everything better. You make me better.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My head is pounding, my eyes are burning, but I can’t stop. I can’t.

“You have to wake up,” I say again, my voice breaking. “Please, Y/N. Please. I need you. I need you so much.”

The beeping of the monitor continues, steady and unrelenting. I close my eyes, letting the tears fall. And then, faintly, so faintly I almost think I’m imagining it, I feel it—a twitch. Her hand, the one I’ve been holding, moves. Just a little, just enough to make my heart stop.

“Y/N?” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

[theweirdkidinside03]

2024 - Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter is the Song of the Year

Espresso - Sabrina Carpenter

Beautiful Things - Benson Boone

Dilaw - Maki

Not Like Us - Kendrick Lamar

Lovin' On Me - Jack Harlow

I Had Some Help (feat. Morgan Wallen) - Post Malone

Die With A Smile - Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars

Lose Control - Teddy Swims

we can't be friends (wait for your love) - Ariana Grande

Fortnight (feat. Post Malone) - Taylor Swift

APT. - ROSÉ & Bruno Mars

Good Luck, Babe! - Chappell Roan

BIRDS OF A FEATHER - Billie Eilish

Salamin Salamin - BINI

Please Please Please - Sabrina Carpenter

REWIND - B1A4

Water - Tyla

Too Sweet - Hozier

A Bar Song (Tipsy) - Shaboozey

Diet Pepsi - Addison Rae

Taste - Sabrina Carpenter

Agora Hills - Doja Cat

TEXAS HOLD 'EM - Beyonce'

TOUCH - KATSEYE

MILLION DOLLAR BABY - Tommy Richman

Popular - The Weeknd, Madonna & Playboi Carti

HOT TO GO!- Chappell Roan

yes, and? - Ariana Grande

Feather - Sabrina Carpenter

Cherry On Top - BINI

Guess (feat. Billie Eilish) - charli xcx

the boy is mine - Ariana Grande

Nasty - Tinashe

LUNCH - Billie Eilish

Training Season - Dua Lipa

Who - Jimin

Mamushi (feat. Yuki Chiba) - Megan Thee Stallion

greedy - Tate McRae

I LUV IT (feat. Playboi Carti) - Camila Cabello

Houdini - Eminem

Illusion - Dua Lipa

I Love You, I'm Sorry - Gracie Abrams

Love wins all - IU

obsessed - Olivia Rodrigo

 청춘에게 (To Youth) - EPEX

Whatever - Kygo & Ava Max

Tiramisu Cake - We Are The Night

Timeless - The Weeknd & Playboi Carti

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart - Taylor Swift

I'M HIS, HE'S MINE (feat. Doechii) - Katy Perry

Stardust - ZAYN

Misteryoso - Cup of Joe

Buzz - NIKI

Why Why Why - Shawn Mendes

Mantra - JENNIE

exes - Tate McRae

Make You Mine - Madison Beer

sining (feat. Jay R) - Dionela

Dancing In The Flames - The Weeknd

Namumula - Maki

Doctor (Work It Out) - Pharrell Williams & Miley Cyrus

CHIHIRO - Billie Eilish

WOMAN'S WORLD - Katy Perry

Casual - Chappell Roan

Guy For That (feat. Luke Combs) - Post Malone

Lucky - Halsey

Overcompensate - twenty one pilots

Selfish - Justin Timberlake

360 - charli xcx

Never Be The One - Olivia O'Brien

Eyes Closed - Imagine Dragons

Neva Play (feat. RM) - Megan Thee Stallion

Alienated - ZAYN

B.A.D. (feat. P-Lo) - Denise Julia

The Emptiness Machine - Linkin Park

HE KNOWS (feat. Lil Nas X) - Camila Cabello

Alright - Victoria Monet

Paladin Strait - twenty one pilots

Karma - JoJo Siwa

FAMILY MATTERS - Drake

HISS - Megan Thee Stallion

Nobody Knows - Shawn Mendes

KING KONG - TREASURE

Groin - RM

mikansei - zakinosuke

Disease - Lady Gaga

My Oh My - Ava Max

breaking news - flowerovlove

Tough - Quavo & Lana Del Rey

Liar - Jelly Roll

Love On - Selena Gomez

Delusion:All - ONE OK ROCK

LIFETIMES - Katy Perry

Nice to Meet You - Imagine Dragons

Angels Of My Dreams - Jade

MOUNTAINS - Stray Kids

Hands On Me (feat. Meghan Trainor) - Jason Derulo

BOA - Megan Thee Stallion

Chanel No.5 - Camila Cabello

Because I Love You - Halle

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML au: Miraculous Piece

(Basically just aged up miraculous heroes in the world of one piece)

Marinette D Cheng: (the D stands for Dupain) Aka Lady Luck. Captain/ Chef of the Miracle Pirates. Devil fruit: Make make fruit: A Paramecia type that allows her to create any object with her imagination. From clothing, weapons, even battle ships. Bounty: 777,777,777 Berries (most Notable crime: Killing a celestial dragon (it was actually Adrien, but it was a fake death)) Moniker for her in the navy’s own words ‘Luck beyond comprehension)

Adrien Agreste: AKA Black Cat of Chaos. Vice Captain of the miracle Pirates. Devil Fruit: Break break fruit: A Paramecia type that allows the user to destroy anything that makes contact with his left hand (so long as he wills it). Bounty: 444,444,444 berries. (Most notable crime: Attempted murder of a celestial dragon (this was Gabriel agreste, and it was real)) (his bounty is Alive only) (he is the son of the celestial dragon which is hidden)

Alya Cesaire: Aka Mirage Thief. Navigator of the Miracle Pirates. No devil fruit. Has weapons that make illusions and uses dials to deliver strong attacks. Also handles finances. Bounty: 111,222,333 Berries. (Most Notable crime: Stealing from a Celestial Dragon)

Nino Lahiffe: Aka. Shell shocker. Helmsman of the Miracle pirates. A Sea turtle Fishman (basically looks human but has a shell and greener skin). Master of Fishman karate, special technique Bubble art. Perfect at reading the flow of the ocean. Bounty: 231, 123, 321 Berries. (Most Notable crime, Freeing slaves from a celestial dragon)

Maxkov Kante: Aka. Metal scourge. Shipwright of the Miracle Pirates. Half human and half machine as a result of Vegapunk. He has an Ai intelligence inside him named Markov, thus choosing to go by Maxkov. Creates new tech for his crew. Bounty: 101,001,100 berries. (Most notable crime, Having information the world government wants)

Alix Kubdel: Aka. Devil Rabbit. Archeologist of the Miracle Pirates. Devil fruit: Clock Clock fruit: A Paramecia type devil fruit that allows the user to rewind or fast forward time around them by holding their breath. The more it’s used the bigger the headache the user gets. Can read ponoglyphs. Bounty: 333,333,333 berries. (Most notable crime: Threat to world government)

Rosé Lavillant: Aka Fragrant Healer. Healer/doctor of the miracle pirates. Rosé was a sick child that thanks to a master of herbal alchemy saved her life. Studying the herbs for years she became incredibly good at curing diseases. Her dream is to never let a child suffer from sickness like she did. Bounty: 80,080,008 berries (most notable crime: Assisting the miracle pirates in their attack on Sabody)

Luka Couffaine: aka Serenading Serpent. Musician/Therapist of the miracle Pirates. Devil fruit: Snake-Snake fruit: Model: Viper. His snake form allows him to slither quietly and use potent poisons when needed. He is looking for his sister who was kidnapped by the world government. Bounty: 150,000,000 berries ( Killing a vice admiral and attacking a war lord of the sea)

[ladyeloisee]

Do I Have a Choice?

My dearest readers. Two or three days ago, I received a cute call. Yes, it was damn cute because the caller went like this.

“Hello, may I talk to Ojas, ma’am?”

“Yes, you are talking to her. Who is this little one there?”

“I am Harithra, and Ojas ma’am was my English teacher.”

I was happy. I was crying the other second, and this little one made me feel special and valued. She was my student. She just missed me there and wanted to know when I am back to school. She wanted to become a doctor and treat people for free. She had her own dreams, and God, please don’t leave her hands like you did to me, right?

So, there were these little things that made me smile, and it really felt good.

And there are these two things that fill up my eyes with tears. And I have to struggle so that it isn’t rolling down. One is about my future that is almost like depending on my mother. Two is about my relationship, which is flying in the air unnoticed. Leave the latter one; maybe if the first one gets solved, everything else will.

I am living this phase of my life where I hate myself for everything so far. I did everything wrong. Maybe knowing that I am a girl and hence I am not supposed to build on my dreams, I should’ve married and settled down when I was 18. If I had this time machine to rewind and make things sound better, I would do that. It's me that is on the wrong side of life. As my friend said, I am afraid of the consequences. As it was, it had only hurt me so much and broken me into pieces that were hard to fix later on.

My dad was asking me to take decisions of my own, or I am going to ruin my life. And it’s true that I had already. Being a 20-year-old girl, knowing how hard my dad has been taking care of us, right from paying our bills to every single thing, I had just one thing. Be a hand for him and make him free. Of the debts and bills. At least help him pay my sisters’ college fee. I felt so much happier when I was able to pay for the family dinner.  I worked. I did work hard to score marks and to crack the interviews. But then I realized that there was this person who was reminding me that I am a girl and to stop dreaming, plan for the wedding, and get married. She has been screaming this inside me. I kept ignoring it. Then came the day when she won and I almost lost. Maybe someone who hardly took studies seriously and who didn’t earn might not understand the things that I felt. This is the era where every single girl out there wants to be on her own. And that is misunderstood as what? Being a bitch. Who goes against the will of parents? Etc... Man, the amount of curse we get here every single second is so powerful that we don’t even crack an interview properly.

Now, what is left? Other than finding ways to die? I just know that I am spoiling my own life. For my mother.

[conpaptex]

inspection machine

[idkaguyorsomething]

the edge of destruction episodes are also rather buckwild, because it comes after they’ve done the “one trip to the past, one trip to the future” thing, but this is the actual episode where we get the doctor’s characterization and dynamics with the others set in stone. everyone spends half the story in their nighties. they do among us for thirty seconds. the doctor threatens to kick barbara and ian out into the vacuum of space and barbara calls him a little bitch. susan goes crazy and starts stabbing a sofa. the tardis drink machine is broken. and the reason everything’s been happening is BECAUSE THEY LEFT THE REWIND TIME SWITCH ON. the climax revolves around the doctor explaining how spring-loaded switches work to the audience before saying sorry. then they all have a snowball fight and ian puts on the best/worst coat of all time. truly an experience