#but that doesn’t mean i don’t feel weirdly guilty for it

[stephmainly]

hate when one of my add-ons for a post starts getting reblogged like why am i the bus driver all of a sudden

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴜꜱᴇ ᴍᴇ

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘥

smut, period sex, dry humping, mutual masturbation, friends with benefits, consent, needy reader, cum in boxers, messy, vulnerability

word count - 1.7k

It’s past midnight when the credits roll.

You’re curled up against Matt’s side, cheek pressed to his shoulder, legs tangled under the covers. The heating pad is long cold, cramps dull but still lingering, your body heavy with that warm, needy ache that always sneaks up on day two. You’re sore, yes, but also so, so needy. Everything feels extra sensitive. Your thighs rub together every time you shift, and the soft drag of your pad is just enough to make you clench.

You’ve been subtly rocking your hips, chasing that perfect pressure, but Matt notices. 

His hand shifts on your back. “You alright?”

“Mmhm.” You nuzzle closer, embarrassed. “Just… can’t get comfortable.”

He pauses. You can feel him thinking. Then, quietly, he asks, “Is it cramps or…?”

His voice trails off, cautious.

You open your mouth to respond, but then stop. Swallow the rest. You don’t want to say needy. Don’t want to admit the way you’ve been rocking down into every little flicker of pressure, how warm and swollen everything feels, how your brain’s fuzzy with it, full of this low, rolling kind of want. But he already knows. Of course he does.

“God. Is it that obvious?”

His hand stays where it is. “A little.”

You sigh, frustrated and turned on and breathless as you shake your head.

“It just… feels good,” you mumble. “The pressure. I don’t know. I get weirdly horny on my period.”

He clears his throat, fingers curling lightly against your hip as he speaks softly. “I don’t wanna make it weird, but… if it helps to, like, move a little… you can. I don’t mind.”

You blink up at him. “Like… how?”

He shrugs one shoulder, careful not to jostle you. “I don’t know. You could use my leg? Or, like, if you wanted to be on top of me, I wouldn’t, like, not in a weird way, but I’d let you.”

Your stomach flips. You stare at him for a long beat, your heart fluttering in your throat.

“Really?”

He nods, eyes soft. “Whatever you need. I mean it.”

And god, you need it. The ache between your legs is unbearable now. You shift, moving to straddle him carefully, your thighs snug on either side of his hips. The pad presses right against your core, right against him.

“You’re sure?” you ask, breath catching.

He looks up at you like you hung the stars. “Yeah.”

So you move. Slowly at first, grinding your hips in tiny circles, letting the pad catch against the soft fabric of his sweats, and fuck, it’s instant relief. The friction, the heat, the weight of him under you. You moan without meaning to, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

He exhales sharply when your hips stutter, when the soft, wet sound slips between you. Matt’s hands hover before settling on your hips, not pushing, just there. Steady. Supportive.

“You okay?” he asks, voice tight.

You nod quickly. “It just… feels good.”

You rock against him, a little faster now, and you feel it. Him. His cock thickening beneath you, twitching in his boxers with every pass of your hips. You’re grinding on him now, properly, your body pulsing with each drag of fabric on fabric.

“Is that—?”

“Yeah,” he says, quiet, almost guilty. “Sorry.”

You glance down. His cock hard against you, thick under the soft fabric of his sweats.

You press your forehead into his shoulder. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

He groans, like it physically pains him to hear you say that. “You’re on your period.”

You nod. “Still want to feel good.”

Your hips roll again, higher, this time. You’re not on his thigh anymore. You’re grinding against him now. Right against the thick line of him, clothed and leaking and tense.

He lets out a low, wrecked sound. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m just… really sensitive. It’s all I’ve been thinking about. All day.”

“You’re gonna kill me,” he breathes, eyes squeezed shut. But he doesn’t stop you. If anything, his hands grip your hips tighter, guiding you as you grind against his cock.

It’s messy and hot and desperate. You’re both still clothed, but the slick sound of your soaked underwear is unmistakable. You can feel how wet you are, feel the way his cock twitches beneath you every time you whimper.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Really didn’t mean to get you…”

“I already told you. Don’t apologise,” he breathes, hands tightening slightly. “Feels good. You feel…”

He groans when you roll your hips harder.

“Fuck, baby. You feel amazing.”

The nickname slips out, and it sends a thrill straight through you. You whine, soft and high, picking up pace until you’re panting, chasing the friction like it’s oxygen. His cock’s pressed right against your core now, and you swear you could come just from this, just from the pressure, the stretch, the way the pad drags slick and wet between you. 

“Matt,” you gasp, “I think. Fuck, I think I’m close.”

His hands hold you tighter, rocking his hips up just slightly, helping you ride him. “That’s it. Just like that. Come for me.”

His hands are steady on you now, grounding you, letting you move exactly how you need. His cock is thick and hard beneath the layers of fabric, and the pad only adds to the pressure, the extra tension. The way it presses perfectly into your clit each time you roll down. And everything’s so sensitive. So warm. The ache that’s been sitting low in your belly all day finally finding its outlet.

You grind down one more time, sharper, and your whole body locks up, toes curling, legs trembling, a gasp torn from your throat as the orgasm washes over you. It’s sharp and pulsing, like your nerves are fluttering right under your skin. Your stomach tightens, hips stuttering as you ride it out, and you swear you can feel it through your entire core, heat and wet relief and the bittersweet release all tangled together.

Your clit throbs, oversensitive already, but you don’t want to stop. You don’t think you can. You keep moving in little desperate pulses, chasing the last waves, whimpering into Matt’s neck as your thighs twitch uncontrollably.

After a beat, you murmur, “That was…”

“A lot,” Matt finishes, brushing your hair back. “But… in a good way?”

You nod, cheek pressed to his heartbeat. “In a really good way.”

You sit for a moment, breathing against him, as a comfortable silence settles between you.

Your head’s still buried against his shoulder, breaths shallow, skin flushed and buzzing, but you realise he’s hard beneath you. Still. You can feel the weight of him, thick and hot against the damp press of your pad, and something about that makes you throb all over again.

You shift your hips slightly. His breath catches.

“Sorry,” you murmur, but your voice sounds more curious than apologetic. “You didn’t…”

Matt shakes his head, quick, breathless. “No. I mean, yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to…”

“I want to.”

You lift your head, look down at him, and he’s already looking up at you like you’re the sun.

Your thighs are sticky with sweat and heat and the faint mess of it all, but the weight of your body over his, the way you’re still straddling him, it feels natural. Like something you’ve done a hundred times and somehow never done at all.

“I just…” you bite your lip, rocking gently against him, slow and shy. “You’re so hard, Matt. You let me, fuck, you let me use you like that. I wanna make you feel good, too.”

His hands flex at your hips, and you feel the twitch of his cock beneath you.

“You already do,” he says softly. “You, Jesus, you have no idea.”

You smile, dazed and drunk on the way he’s looking at you. Then you roll your hips again, slow and deliberate, and this time it’s for him. Your pad is soaked now, warm and slick, and it makes the friction that much heavier, deeper. Your clit still tingles from before, and each grind sends tiny electric sparks back through your body, but you focus on him.

The way his jaw clenches. The way his eyes flutter shut. The stutter in his breath when you drag your hips forward, pressing your heat right against his cock.

“You like that?” you ask, voice low, velvety with afterglow.

He nods, brows knit, eyes squeezed shut. “Too much.”

You keep moving, your rhythm messy now, more instinct than control. Every time your core drags over him, you feel the thick line of his cock push against you, just right, and it makes your stomach flutter. Your pad squelches faintly, soaked through, but Matt doesn’t seem to care. If anything, it makes him groan deeper.

“Can’t stop thinking about it now,” you whisper, almost to yourself. “How you’d feel inside me. When I’m like this. Full and sore and warm and so, so…”

“Fuck, baby,” he chokes out, fingers digging into your hips. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You lean down, kiss the hinge of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. You’re both damp with sweat and heat and something heavier that neither of you can name.

But it doesn’t need to go further. Not yet.

You slow your hips, still pressing close, drawing little circles against the hard ridge of him. You can feel he’s close. His whole body’s gone tense underneath you.

“You can come like this,” you murmur, lips brushing his ear. “Just like I did. I want you to.”

And he does.

It happens fast, his hips bucking once, then twice, and then he’s gasping into your neck, breath ragged as he spills into his boxers, the warmth of it blooming between you. He clutches you tight like he might float away otherwise.

You both go still. Just breathing. Your heart racing where it rests against his chest.

After a minute, he laughs, soft and stunned. “Holy shit.”

You giggle, pressing a lazy kiss to his cheek. “Yeah.”

He hums, thumb brushing your back. “Did you mean it, when you said…” He trails off.

“Yeah,” you say again, smiling against his skin.

“Next time, then.” He says quietly, and you nod, neither of you moving to get up. You just stay there. Wrapped in each other, warm and messy and underwear soaked.

credits to rose for the dividers!! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: i need to dry hump matt on my period it's state mandated

main taglist: @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturns-mermaid @shortnsweetsturnz  @cowboylikenat @camzeecorner @courta13 @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss @throatgoat4u @shadowthesim237 @emely9274 @sturnberries @bluestriips @lovergirl4gracieabrams @chrisslut04 @tezzzzzzzz @strnilolover @vanteguccir @chrislova @riasturns @sturnsblogs @darksturnz @httpssturns @mi-co-uk @ribbonlovergirl @lovesturni0l0s @grace-sturnz @auttysturnz @kier-with-a-k @malsmind @edu4rd0ss

till next time!!

[gingerkunoichii]

☆ Yandere Naruto Men and their Obsession with You ☆

MASTERLIST Characters: Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha, Obito Uchiha.

Warnings: abusive relationships, control, emotional manipulation, lovebombing, obsessive crazy love, isolation, intense jealousy, violence, almost physical abuse.

His Loving Obsession • Naruto isn’t just obsessed—he’s everywhere. His sunshine demeanour means no one questions it when he’s constantly by your side, always checking in, always making sure you’re okay. But behind the smiles and laughter, there’s something darker—a need so strong it borders on suffocation. Every time you smile at someone else, every time you talk about your plans without him, his stomach twists, and that friendly grin becomes just a little tighter. • Naruto doesn’t just love you—he worships you. He remembers every little thing about you, from your favourite snack to the way you like your coffee. He’ll show up with small surprises—your favorite candy, a new book you mentioned in passing, a blanket because he noticed you shivering the other day. He’s always thinking about you, always looking for ways to make you smile. • Naruto is a master at making you feel guilty without ever outright saying it. If you spend time with someone else, his expression falls just enough to make your chest ache. “Do you really think they care about you the way I do?” There’s no malice in his voice, only a quiet vulnerability that makes your chest ache. He’s not trying to control you (or so it seems)—he just can’t bear the thought of losing you to someone who doesn’t love you as deeply as he does.

• His jealousy is weirdly explosive. If someone flirts with you, his entire demeanour shifts. The laughter stops, his voice drops, and his eyes harden. It's like he's a whole different person. He’s quick to insert himself between you and the “threat,” acting like the person speaking to you is some sort of strange pervert, making it awkward for everyone.

• Naruto’s love becomes all-consuming. His hugs are tight, his hands always on you—your waist, your arm, the small of your back. He needs the reassurance of your presence, needs to feel your warmth under his fingers. His kisses are soft but desperate, like he’s trying to pour all his feelings into every movement, whispering against your lips, “No one can take you from me, Y/N.” You're so bombarded by him that you have no space to ever question it.

His Toxic Obsession

• Shikamaru doesn’t just watch you—he studies you. Every word you say, every nervous habit, every glance you throw at someone else—it’s all meticulously catalogued in his mind. He knows you better than you know yourself, and he uses that knowledge like a weapon. When he speaks to you, it’s with a precision that leaves you reeling and self-doubting, his words cutting straight to the heart of your insecurities and desires. • He isn’t loud or obvious when he cuts people out of your life. He does it quietly, methodically, in ways you don’t notice until it’s too late. Maybe he “accidentally” forgets to tell you about a group hangout or makes plans that conveniently overlap with your commitments to others. Before you realize it, he’s the only constant in your life, the only person you can turn to. “See? It’s just us now. It’s easier this way.” • Shikamaru doesn’t need to raise his voice to control you. His calm, measured tone is enough to make you second-guess everything. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Y/N? I mean, do what you want, but…” His words always trail off, leaving you to fill in the blanks. And when you do change your mind, he’s there with a lazy smirk, like he knew you would all along.

• When Shikamaru finally confesses, it’s not a plea—it’s a statement. “I’ve been patient with you. I’ve let you figure things out on your own, but it’s time you see what’s obvious.” His voice is low, steady, leaving no room for argument, your self-worth is so battered down from everything he's done you actually believe him, actually want to be with him.

• Shikamaru’s love is suffocating, an intricate web of manipulation and control that feels impossible to escape. But beneath the darkness, there’s an unsettling tenderness—a quiet devotion that makes you hesitate. “I only do this because I love you,” he says, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. And in those moments, you wonder if he truly believes it. If maybe, somehow, he’s convinced himself that this twisted, obsessive love is what you need.

His Unrelenting Obsession

• Sasuke’s fixation is nothing short of paralyzing. His eyes follow you everywhere, dark and unblinking, like he’s dissecting you piece by piece. It’s suffocating, the way he can hold you in place with just a look, his intensity seeping into every interaction until it feels like there’s nowhere to hide. He had never been so entranced by someone or something before you. • Sasuke wouldn’t hesitate to dismantle anything—or anyone—that threatens his control. A co-worker who’s too friendly? Suddenly, they’re fired over a baseless rumour. A friend who tries to intervene? They start receiving anonymous threats. It’s never loud or messy; it’s surgical, precise. He’s a ghost in the machine, orchestrating your isolation with a chilling efficiency that leaves you wondering if you’re imagining it when he acts the same as he always does - cool and detached. • Sasuke would make you dependent on him without you even realizing it. He’d insert himself into every aspect of your life—your confidant, your protector, your only constant. When things fall apart (because he made sure they would), he’s the one picking up the pieces, whispering, “You don’t need anyone else. I’ll take care of you.” And in your weakest moments, it feels like the truth. • If you ever try to leave him, Sasuke’s calm exterior would shatter. He wouldn’t yell or beg—he’d act. Your phone? Smashed. Your keys? Gone. Every avenue of escape meticulously closed off until the only person you can turn to is him. His voice would drop to a dangerous whisper: “Everyone has left me. You don't get to do that, Y/N.” And when he says it, it feels like a vow—a terrifying, irreversible truth. • Beneath the darkness, there’s a twisted form of love—a desperate, all-consuming need to keep you safe, to keep you his. Sasuke genuinely believes that what he’s doing is for your own good, that no one else could possibly love you the way he does. And in his mind, it’s not obsession—it’s destiny. You were meant to be his, no matter the cost.

His Devoted Obsession

• Kakashi’s tactics are subtle and insidious, cloaked in warmth and care. He’d insert himself into your life in ways that feel natural, like he’s just a dependable friend who’s always there when you need him, always appearing when things are going dire. But it’s calculated. Every comforting word, every thoughtful gesture, every perfectly timed “coincidence” is part of his plan to weave himself into the fabric of your life. “You looked a little overwhelmed, so I thought I’d step in.” • Kakashi convinces himself that his obsession is rooted in a desire to protect you, that it's normal he would be like this after everything that had happened to him throughout his life. If you’re in danger, he’s the first one there, stepping in with a calm authority that leaves no room for argument. “You don’t need to thank me. I’d do anything for you.” • His charm is his greatest weapon. He knows how to put you at ease, to make you laugh, to make you feel safe. His lazy demeanour and soft-spoken words hide the intensity of his obsession, lulling you into a false sense of security, that he would never do anything to hurt you. When he teases you, his tone is light and playful, but there’s an edge to his smile that makes your pulse quicken.

• Kakashi doesn’t need to be loud or aggressive to isolate you—he’s far too smart for that. Instead, he subtly plants doubt in your mind about the people around you. “They didn’t seem very supportive of you earlier, did they?” “Are you sure they have your best interests at heart?” His tone is so soft, so thoughtful and seemingly wise, that you don’t realize he’s slowly nudging you into relying on him alone. • He doesn’t see his actions as manipulative or controlling—they’re protective, necessary. “I can't lose you, not after losing everyone else,” he’ll say, his voice so soft and convincing that you genuinely believe him. But the truth is, Kakashi’s love is a cage, and no matter how warm and comforting it feels, it’s one you’ll never escape.

His Desperate Obsession

• He loves you so desperately, so tenderly, with full unrestrained love. It feels like you were swept off your heels by him and his intensity, the way he knew he wanted you from the beginning and the way you completely crumbled underneath him was almost pathetic. He loves you like no one has before, gifting you thoughtful things he knows you like, listening to everything you say with genuine interest. He protects you, no one bothers you whilst you're with him suddenly - and you don't quite understand. • Itachi carries the ghosts of his clan in every step, every breath, every calculated action. He’s spent his entire life sacrificing, losing everything to protect what he loves. But you? You’re something he can’t sacrifice, something he won’t. He tells himself that this time, he won’t fail, won’t let the people he loves slip through his fingers. This time, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, no matter the cost. • Itachi’s protectiveness goes beyond reason. He’s already failed once, letting his clan fall under his blade for the greater good, and he refuses to fail again. He doesn’t trust the world to keep you safe, so he takes matters into his own hands. The friend who’s too nosy? Gone without a trace. The ex who tries to reach out? Shows up in the news dead. You don’t see the strings he’s pulling, the shadows he’s working in, but the world around you becomes eerily smooth, free of threats. “You’re safe with me,” he’d say, his tone so calm, so certain, that you believe him. • His obsession is fuelled by guilt as much as love. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, not after what he’s done, but that only makes him cling to you harder. You’re his second chance, his proof that he can protect something without destroying it. He doesn’t tell you this—he doesn’t want to burden you with his darkness—but every glance, every touch carries the unspoken weight of his guilt. “You make me feel human again,” he’d admit in a rare moments of vulnerability. • If you ever tried to leave, Itachi wouldn’t react with anger or desperation. His voice would stay calm, his movements controlled, but there would be a finality in his words that makes your stomach twist. one that you know you can't resist because at this point he had made himself the top of the pyramid in your life. “You don’t understand what you’re saying. The world isn’t safe for you without me.” And if you push further, he’d step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’ve already lost everyone I’ve ever loved. I won’t let it happen again. Not with you.”

His Masked Obsession

• When you first meet him, when you're only friends he keeps up the guise of Tobi. Tobi is a harmless goof, all smiles and playful antics. He makes you laugh, brightens your day, and slips into your life so easily it feels natural. But Tobi isn’t real—he’s a shield, a distraction from the storm brewing beneath. Every laugh, every clumsy joke is calculated, a way to draw you closer, to make you trust him. “See? Tobi’s a good boy!” he chirps, his eyes gleaming with something darker than innocence. • As Tobi, he drowns you in affection. He remembers every little thing you like, shows up with thoughtful gifts “just because,” and tells you how much you mean to him at every opportunity. “You’re Tobi’s favourite person! No one else compares!” His voice is light, his tone warm, and it’s easy to feel safe around him. • The switch happens when you least expect it. The moment you cross a line he doesn’t like—talking to someone else for too long, brushing off his affection, or even hinting at distance—the mask shatters. His voice drops and lowers, his posture stiffens, and the playful Tobi disappears. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, his tone sharp and cutting. It’s a complete shift, like you’re staring into the eyes of someone you don’t recognize. • Losing Rin shattered Obito, and the thought of losing you pushes him over the edge. Every moment he isn’t with you feels like a threat, every smile you give someone else feels like a betrayal. He projects his pain onto you, his desperation spilling out in violent outbursts followed by trembling apologies. “I can’t lose you,” he growls, his hands fisting in your hair as he pulls you closer. “Not again. Not ever.” • After every outburst, Tobi returns, full of apologies and desperate affection. He showers you with gifts, clings to you like a lost puppy, and whispers tearful apologies. “Tobi’s so sorry! Tobi didn’t mean to scare you!” His voice is trembling, his hands gentle as he cups your face. He tells you how much he loves you, how he can’t live without you, how he’ll do better. • Obito’s love is suffocating, destructive, a wildfire that consumes everything in its path. He doesn’t see his violence as cruelty—it’s protection. He doesn’t see his obsession as wrong—it’s love. “I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take you from me,” he says, his voice calm but his eyes wild. “Even you, if I have to.” And in his mind, that’s not a threat—it’s a promise.

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to their s/o wearing mobility aids

When I said I was prioritizing the illnesses I had, I didn’t expect the hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, but here we are. For those who don’t know what it is: it’s a genetic condition that affects the ligaments, making them longer and/or looser, which cause problems over time. In my case, it affects my legs, so I’ll write about those. As always, if you want to read more of my work, you can click on the coloured texts! here the Tumblr masterlist, and here are the first two chapters of Everytime it Rains.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |

Jayce:

He’s well-versed in what to do and not do, being around two people with a similar condition (though he’ll never call it a "disease" out loud for fear of making anyone uncomfortable).

His help is as subtle as possible: he’ll grab your backpack, shoulder bag, or anything else you’re carrying to keep you from overexerting yourself.

During walks, he’s the one who’ll suddenly mention it’s getting cold, too hot, or that he just remembered something, as soon as he senses you’re getting tired, assuming your fatigue is worse than his.

The first time you said, “I’ll pass, my knees are about to bend” he didn’t realize they bent backwards, and when he saw what that actually meant, he went pale.

He felt guilty about his reaction for at least a week.

Viktor:

Tell him something he doesn’t know.

He’s the one who’ll comment, “Where’s your brace?” if he sees you with bare legs and no aid, maybe tapping your foot lightly with his cane to emphasize his disapproval.

On the bad days—when fatigue, cold, or any external factor makes both of your legs useless—you end up helping each other out, spending most of the time on the couch with pillows under his knees and your legs draped over his.

If you have to do something alone while he’s busy, he’ll ask Jayce to accompany you, ensuring you don’t overdo it without realizing.

Ekko:

Honestly, he couldn’t care less. I mean, it’s not a big problem for him

The first time he saw your knees bend weirdly and too much, he just said, “Ouch.”

Other than that, there are hoverboards! If your legs stop cooperating at some point in the day, he’ll just have you balance seated on the hoverboard, saying it’s a gentleman’s duty to escort such an attractive lad/lady around.

He doesn’t ask what you want or need; he just does it, whether it’s bringing you food or removing your knee brace to let your skin breathe.

If he’s going to be away from the house for a while, he leaves a few things ready for you, like water bottles, so you don’t have to strain yourself carrying them up the stairs on your own.

When he sees you’re worn out, he’ll ask if you want a massage, using some body butter to improve circulation, relieve stress, and keep your skin elastic.

Vander:

His first instinct would be to carry you, but since that’s sweet yet sometimes awkward, you both agree that at night ‘it’s a man’s right to carry his wife/husband to bed, disability or not’.

He doesn’t know exactly how to help, so aside from asking if you need anything—like grabbing your aids, bringing them to you, or helping you put them on—he won’t push, knowing you’ll ask for help if you need it.

If you need to go upstairs, he’ll always walk behind you so that if your knees give out, he can catch you and avoid disaster.

At least two rectangular pillows appear in every useful room so you can place them under your knees. The problem is that you forget about them most of the time, so they’re not much help—at least until he comes along, lifts your legs, and places them in a more comfortable position.

"My legs hurt."

"Oh no, I’m sorry, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut them off," he jokes with a mock-serious expression, bursting into laughter when you swat at him in response.

Silco (old man):

Some things you could do on your own but feel more intimate when done together. That’s why you often trot into his office with the fabric sleeve and brace in hand, handing them to him, and he gives you his shimmer syringe in return.

There’s no specific reason beyond the mental closeness and vulnerability of the act.

“Too tight?” will always be his question, even though he knows by now how to adjust it perfectly and doesn’t need to ask.

When you’re together, he’s the one to carefully remove it, stroking your leg while lost in thought.

He never sends anyone to assist you; instead, he asks if you think it would be better to have someone accompany you, making sure you reassure him if you insist you can manage alone.

Silco (Young Man):

Zaun isn’t exactly suitable for crutches or unsteady footing, so as soon as you let him know about your condition, he feels even more compelled to improve the city (or at the very least, smooth out the streets).

He’ll ask questions—few but direct—to understand what it is and how he should act.

If you drop something, he’ll be quick but subtle about picking it up and putting it somewhere easier for you to reach.

“Do you want to go home?” is the question he’ll ask you most often, even if it’s just with a look, despite you explaining multiple times that you’ll let him know if you can’t keep going.

But he knows you push yourself beyond your limits, so he worries.

At night, he’s made it a small ritual to massage your legs when you stretch them out in bed, and it actually helps relieve the tension.

Jinx:

“I can make you a mechanical one.”

When you explain what the condition is and that you don’t need a replacement leg but help for the ones you have, she starts carrying around a notebook, taking notes on the “flaws” of your aid to make you a custom version better suited to your daily life and body.

“I’ll do it!” is her go-to response for anything you need to do that she thinks takes too much effort. She doesn’t even ask; she just throws herself into it with so much enthusiasm it becomes amusing after a while.

You don’t have many intact knee braces or aids left, because according to her, they were “boring,” and she’s customized them—though they still work pretty well.

Even if she won’t admit it, she’s become even more protective of you. For example, if someone bumps into you in the street, she’s ready to jump to your defense immediately.

Vi:

She doesn’t really know how to react or respond because of how versatile the condition is. How does she figure out which days your legs won’t work and which ones they will? Or when they’ll start hurting before it’s too late?

You two agree on a small code: you tap her hand or shoulder three times rhythmically when you start to feel fatigued so that if you’re in public or with company, you don’t have to announce it to everyone if you don’t want to. She’ll immediately understand.

She’s a little scared of doing the wrong thing. She doesn’t know how to handle it and, even though she tries not to, she starts to perceive you as more fragile, moving with a fear of accidentally hurting you.

But she learns over time. She’ll simply ask more often if you need anything when she’s going to the kitchen or the store.

And when you’re cuddling, she’ll pull your legs onto hers.

Caitlyn:

She asks you to explain the condition to her—what you can and can’t do and how she can help.

She’s the ultimate advocate for your aid.

If you skip wearing it one morning because you don’t feel like it or the pain hasn’t started yet, you can bet she’ll notice and say something.

Sure, it can be a bit annoying, but considering it’s a degenerative condition, you know she’s right, so you can’t really get mad at her.

If you’re just not in the mood, she’ll put it on for you herself, with such care that you start to wonder if there’s an instruction manual she got that you didn’t.

Beyond that, she’s not overbearing. She trusts that you’ll communicate when you don’t feel like doing something, and she doesn’t presume to know your limits better than you do.

Mel:

It’s not too much of a problem, considering most of your activities together don’t involve much walking or moving due to her work.

That doesn’t stop her from taking an interest, though. At least once a week, she’ll ask you how your legs are

If they hurt, if you need different support or more comfortable shoes, or if you just need a footrest or a cushion—she’s ready and ensures everything you might need is on hand. If she can’t get it herself, she’ll send someone.

During dinners, she privately asks whoever is in charge of arranging things to provide you with a footrest and an extra cushion on your chair. If you tell her it’s unnecessary, her response will be, “Can’t I spoil my partner a little?”

She knows you’ll let her know if you’re having issues, but she takes all the necessary precautions to ensure no problems arise in the first place.

Sevika:

Again, tell her something she doesn’t know.

The difference between your legs and her arm—besides the fact that yours are still intact—is that they require less messy and time-consuming maintenance than hers. So not only does she not mind helping, but she hardly even notices.

She won’t ask if you need anything unless you say so or show explicit signs of struggling. It’s a deliberate choice to avoid making you feel like she thinks you’re not independent or capable.

On the couch or in bed, she’ll have you rest your legs on hers and prop you up with cushions behind your back, making sure you’re fully supported.

[thesnackthatsmilesbacck]

Boyfriend Katsuki and sick reader are my fav duo😞🫶

Your head is full of wet cotton and betrayal. The betrayal being your own immune system, which has decided to wage war against you during the week when Katsuki actually has a day off. The universe is cruel and probably bored, and maybe that’s the point of everything.

You’re slumped across the couch like a Victorian ghost, wearing one of his sweatshirts that smells like smoke and sleep, breathing through only one nostril, and trying to remember what it felt like to be a person. A healthy person. A person who could kiss their boyfriend without being pushed in the face by his foot.

“Get off, you’re gonna get me sick,” he says, shoving at your cheek with his socked foot like you’re some pitiful, coughing raccoon who wandered into his home. “I need my damn lungs to save people.”

You stare at the ceiling like it holds answers. “What if I died right now?”

“You’re not gonna die.”

“But what if I did?” You let the thought bloom fully, even though it’s ridiculous, even though you know your brain is being a little dramatic because it’s hot and sore and miserable. “Wouldn’t you feel guilty for not giving me any affection? For being mean to your poor, beautiful, doomed girlfriend?”

He groans like this is some great burden, like loving you is a job he didn’t apply for but still shows up to every day with quiet devotion anyway.

“I give you affection all the time,” he mutters, pulling the blanket more over your legs even as he pretends he’s not doing it. “Just not when you’re a walking virus.”

“Just one kiss,” you whisper. “One forehead kiss. You don’t even have to use lips. You could just… hover.”

He gives you a look, the kind that could incinerate a building or make your heart flip. “That’s not how kissing works, dumbass.”

“I’m sick, not stupid,” you say, and then cough so hard it sounds like a death rattle. “Mostly.”

Katsuki sighs, then drops his head back against the couch. You can feel the tension in the air between you two — not bad tension, but the kind that’s always been there, humming under the surface like background radiation. It’s in the way he never really relaxes unless you’re in the room, the way he gets weirdly quiet when you’re too tired to banter back.

He mutters something under his breath.

“What?”

He repeats it, louder this time. “I’d feel like shit. If you died.”

Your heart hiccups in your chest, because the thing about Bakugou is — he doesn’t lie. Not when it matters.

You blink at him, fever-brained and full of uncontainable affection. “See? That’s all I wanted. Love. Guilt. Vulnerability.”

“Yeah, well. You’re annoying.”

But then he leans in. Slowly. Like he’s afraid of being caught in the act of caring too much. He presses the back of his knuckles to your forehead — testing for temperature, but also lingering longer than necessary.

And then, finally, a single kiss to your hairline.

It’s barely anything. But also everything.

“I swear to god,” he says quietly, “if I get sick, I’m making you eat plain rice for a week. No seasoning. Just punishment rice.”

“Deal,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

The thing is, being loved by Katsuki Bakugou is like being caught in a fire that refuses to burn you. It’s hot, and stubborn, and it doesn’t always make sense — but it stays. It always stays.

And maybe that’s what makes it real.

[uhhhh-em-draws-stuff]

So Spider-Man AU won!

Red Hearts is the daughter of the head scientist Bridget Hearts at wonderlabs, a lab specializing in genetic mutation. Her mother wants her to follow in her footsteps in the scientific world, but Red has no interest in science. She wants to pursue art but isn’t allowed to, so she sneaks out at night to use spray paints across the city. Bridget isnt an abusive mother, rather just strict and emotionally distant. Red is enrolled at a science specialized high school even though she has no interest in it. There she met her best friend. Chloe Charming. Chloe is the daughter of the NYPD captain charming and Ella charming who was friends with Bridget in high school. Red has been secretly harboring feelings for Chloe for months now and refuses to tell her, convinced they aren’t returned. As of this point Chloe feels nothing but good friendship for Red.

One night while staying late with her mom at her lab, an escaped spider bites Red on her upper left arm. Red smacks it away and doesn’t think anything of it until she gets home and immediately passes out on her bed face first. She wakes up in the morning and notices she can see without her glasses. Then she walks toward her mirror and notices something is different about her appearance. Her arms are much more muscular than before and she has definition in her abdomen. “oh that’s new” she says. She spends much of her morning trying to control her sudden strength and stickiness, weirdly enough. Red makes it to school in one piece, barely, causing Chloe to worry.

Over the next few weeks she creates a suit and starts dealing with small crimes in her area, to captain charming’s dismay. She creates a persona known as “the red spider”

Meanwhile with Bridget, she is trying to genetically engineer ways to enhance brain performance, but she tested it on herself too early and turns her mind into a Jekyll and Hyde like state with “Bridget” and “The Queen of Hearts” the queen of hearts quickly becomes the red spider’s #1 enemy.

One night the red spider saves Chloe from being mugged in an alley. Chloe starts saying how she can’t shake the feeling that she knows her. The spider refuses and says she must be confused. Chloe slowly rolls up the bottom of her mask and the spider let’s her. She stops just above her nose. She leans in and kisses her in the pouring rain. A few moments later she pulls away and stammers a goodbye and runs into the night leaving a confused Red behind.

The kiss stayed on Chloe’s mind for days, why did she do that? Who did she even kiss? Whoever it was her father despises. She also feels strangely guilty. Feeling like she betrayed Red, but she doesn’t like Red like that? Right?

Afte one particularly bad fight with the queen of hearts, Red manages to swing to Chloe’s bedroom, seeking bandaging, knowing she has to reveal her identity to Chloe. She slips in through the window, Chloe staring mouth agape from her bed. Red slowly pulls off her mask and looks up at Chloe. The two stared at each other for what felt like forever, until the moment was broken by red wincing and clutching her torn up stomach. Chloe rushes over and helps red pull down her suit to her waist and sets her down against her bed. She heads to the bathroom and comes back with a cloth, water, and bandages. She starts to clean the blood and grime off. Once a good amount was cleaned Red noticed Chloe looking at her newly there abs.

“Is THE Chloe charming checking me out?”

Chloe turns the color of Red’s hair and goes “WHAT? NO! ….those are just…new, is all”

Once red is all bandaged up, they lay in Chloe’s bed, side by side. Chloe sighs and says “so we have some things to talk about” Red turns to her and goes “okay I’m sorry i didn’t tell you but I didn’t want you to get hurt and about the kiss, I’ve liked you for like ever and I would’ve let you kiss me even if you didn’t know it was me, but you do now, so I don’t really know what that means for us but-“ the blue haired girl cuts her off with a kiss, placing her hand on the side of Red’s face.

“If you couldn’t tell, I like you, too”

“Oh, really? Couldn’t tell after you kissed me twice.”

A few weeks later the red spider and the queen of hearts have another particularly heated battle. In the last move, the queen throws her cards and the spider creates a reinforced web to bounce them back at her, hitting her square in the stomach. As she lay on the ground, her mask slipped off. The spider slowly approaches the figure and realizes the figure looks familiar. As she reaches her, the cold shiver of realization goes down her spine. Her mother is the queen of hearts. She just HURT her mother, possibly fatally. She rips her mask off and kneels next to her.

“Mom, hey, you’re gonna be okay”

“Red? Wha..what are you doing here?”

“Mom I’m the Red spider. I just hurt you, I’m so sorry please hold on I’ll get help-“

“Red, there isn’t time. I’m going, we have to face it”

“No no no no no no no mom you’re gonna make it, just let me get help”

Bridget grips onto her daughters hand with the little strength she has left.

“Red. Listen to me. I’m dying. Right here. There are some things I want you to do.”

Red nods signaling for her mother to continue.

“I’m leaving wonderlabs to Maddox, I know it was never your dream. You still have a share in the company but all of the stuff I do is left to him. I’m sorry I tried to force science on you, I just wanted you to be successful.”

Bridget takes a shakey breath.

“Keep in touch with chloe, she’s a good girl with a promising future. Maybe one day she’ll work at wonderlabs. I’d love to have her brain there.”

Red feels the tears welling up in her eyes start to fall.

“I love you, Red. I know I didn’t say it enough but I do. So please get out of here so you aren’t wanted for my murder. Go, I love you.”

And with that Bridget was gone. The queen of hearts, the head of wonderlabs, her mother. Gone.

Red flees the scene. She cleans up and prepares to face the press that night. Her funeral was the next week. She was asked to say a few words. She got to the podium and started sobbing immediately before she could say anything , she stepped down and let Maddox talk instead.

The city doesn’t see the red spider for a while after that.

After 6 months, the spider comes back, but something in her air was off, it was more reserved, less chatty, less there, but the city was glad to have her back either way.

Behind closed doors the spider cries in the arms of her girlfriend almost every night, plagued with nightmares and guilt she can never share.

[ancientboyfriends]

Could I request something platonic with Thanatos meeting and becoming friends with a shade reader who is Hypnos’ wife and mother of the oneiroi (as to how they had the kids, either through some random bullshit or their relationship started when wifey was alive and the children were had sometime before her death and brought into the Underworld to be with their mother)? Previously, no one knew about Hyp’s wife or kids outside of Hades, Persephone (because there’s no way he’s handling a secret relationship on his time off AND somehow got his kids into the Underworld without them knowing), and maybe Zag if he encountered wifey and the children on his runs.

I’m sorry if this is weirdly detailed. I just thought it’d be a cute concept. I love Thanatos deeply (the wing emoji I sign off with refers to both Hyp and Than), but that doesn’t mean I don’t think sometimes platonic stuff with him can also be really cute.

-🪽anon

Thanatos & Shade!Sister-In-Law!Reader

Honestly, it’s a miracle that you managed to keep the marriage, not to mention, the kids secret for so long; especially with how much Hypnos has been dying (no pun intended) to gush about you

You mentioned Hades and Persephone are the only ones who know, but I don’t think he’d be able to keep it from his mother Nyx either; they both live and work together, and she’s perceptive as hell

In the original mythology, there’s 1000 Oneiroi, but for this ask I’m just gonna stick to the triplets: Morpheus, Phobetor and Phantasos

I can’t really think of an origin for them either, so I’m just gonna say Hypnos pulled some godly magic to make it possible and now you’re both parents

I think you’d spend a lot of time in the nursery, looking after the babies, so that would be where Zag meets you (whenever Hypnos isn’t in his usual spot by the Styx at the end of the run, he’ll be in the nursery with you)

The nursery would be painted to look like the night sky, with glow in the dark stars on the ceiling

If your room would help Zag in any way, I think you would give him one of the babies’ toys to borrow, but they’re actually imbued with some kind of dream magic that can stun monsters or something idk

Or maybe you’d just full on give him one of your babies (they can use dream magic on the monsters and make them weaker/stun them), and when he dies, they just poof back to the nursery

So, one day, Zag and Than would be sitting in the lounge and talking, and Zag would make some kind of throwaway comment (something casual like “oh, I met Hypnos’ wife yesterday, she was lovely, your nephews are adorable”), and Than would be worried that he’s completely lost it

“Hypnos… is not married, nor does he have a children. I believe he would’ve told me, like he tells me everything else.”

But Zag insists, and now Than has to see this for himself, so he accompanies Zag on one of his runs, and that’s where they finally reach the nursery

You and Hypnos would be putting the babies down for a nap when you hear someone arrive, assuming it’s Zag, but as soon as Hypnos realises his brother is there, he gets very nervous

He’s never kept anything from his brother for, and he’s been feeling so guilty about keeping something as big as this from him

The only reason he kept it from him was because he didn’t think Than would understand, or he’d just get even more annoyed with Hypnos if he started showing him the countless hypothetical photos in his hypothetical wallet

Than’s just standing there in shock, staring between Hypnos’ stuttering, your sheepish smile, and the sleeping triplets in their crib; his gaze lingers on the crib the longest and he slowly floats over to it, peering down inside

When he sees his nephews—nephews—in there, looking all cute and sleepy, something tugs on his heart; he was prepared to be angry with his brother for keeping this from him, but thinking back to the way he always dismisses Hypnos for his job… wow, maybe he wouldn’t have even told himself about something like this

He and Hypnos have a brotherly hug and some heartfelt apologies, with Thanatos promising to be supportive of your relationship; and he lives up to that promise

Whenever both you and Hypnos are busy, he’d be glad to babysit; he’d either be carrying them in a baby carrier for triplets (two on his front, one on his back), or when they’re older, on child leashes as he goes about his job like it’s normal

Yes, the mortals are a little confused when Death finally comes for them, and he’s got three babies trying to chew on his scythe

On the rare occasions he gets a break, he’d chat with you in the nursery; asking you questions about your relationship with Hypnos, helping with the babies (he’d rather not change a diaper, though), and just getting to know you

I don’t know if he can do this, but for the sake of this ask let’s say he can, he brings back souvenirs from the surface; little wildflowers that he asks Persephone to preserve, toys that he sees lying around, anything

It reminds you of your old home on the surface, and it makes the babies giggle and squeal with delight as they play

Overtime, you start to become good friends, and he finally feels comfortable enough to call you his sister

Sometimes, when Zag reaches the nursery, Thanatos might be there too, holding onto a laughing baby, his stoic demeanour cracking ever-so-slightly

Can you imagine Hypnos’ face when he sees you both calling each other brother and sister for the first time? He has never smiled that wide in his life, and he instantly pulled you both into a tight hug

Overall, he’s a very good brother-in-law and uncle, loves you, his brother and your babies; but don’t you dare hurt his twin, or he will make your afterlife hell

[lostsyren]

I WATCHED ALL THE EPISODES!!! here are my thoughts on Rafe’s characterisation!! ok spoilers ahead:

I don’t agree with everyone saying rafe is out of character. Firstly, he’s always been insecure. He’s always needed someone to reassure him and be his yes man: (topper, Ward, Barry even Wheezie). So it’d make sense he’d do the same thing with Sofia– asking her for advice, making sure he’s doing the right thing etc etc.

Secondly everyone saying that him not being psycho is out of character doesn’t make any sense. When he was “psycho” he was off his head with coke. In season 3 we see him clean and instead he’s turned to alcohol. So it’d make sense for him to be this drunk, playboy persona and desperately try to cling to the “man of the house” vibe he established in s3.

Thirdly, everyone saying it’s cringe or not correct for him to act soft with Sofia…we don’t know how he acts with a girl. Sure we have fanfic interpretations, but those are often exaggerated and unrealistic. Rafe lowkey seems pathetic and clearly unstable after the death of his dad. He’s seeking comfort in Sofia, that much is obvious, and I’d say that’s pretty spot on for him– especially with how he’s not committing to the relationship (saying she’s just a friend, just a hookup) whilst simultaneously telling her he wants to start a life with her. This back and forth sway from two opposites is very in character of him. Like how he went from trying to kill his sister to feeling guilty, to trying to kill his dad but then saving him. He’s unstable. That doesn’t mean he’s solely angry and violent. It also means he needs an outlet to be vulnerable (and seeing his softer side is such a nice thing guys come on!!)

And finally, everyone saying Sofia is just a cookie cutter “y/n” stereotype is not giving her enough credit. We see her wildly different life, with a big family and her little home on the cut, directly contrasting the massive, devoid of family house that belongs to Rafe. That storyline has sm potential!! Like imagine rafe meeting her family and realising what a family should look like!!! She also clearly doesn’t vibe with his friends and the kooks, and she clearly likes him. The way they’re always touching each other, always near each other, this weirdly codependent relationship has sm layers to explore!! And rafe clearly cares about her, letting her tell him what to do, her little disappointed looks that make him overthink! Everytime they’re on screen, the vibe is undeniable!!

[spr1ngpvrinbunny]

🐾 Demihuman Cat!William Afton Headcanons 🐾 (I'm not so normal about this idk why)

If William Afton were a demihuman with cat ears and a tail, I imagine his personality would have a mix of his usual sharp wit and a more feline nature.

Touch-Averse but Secretly Craves It: He acts like he doesn’t want anyone touching his ears or tail, but if someone he trusts scratches behind his ears, his body betrays him—his tail flicks, his ears twitch, and he might even let out a low, involuntary purr before realizing it and snapping, “Don’t you dare tell a soul.”

Unpredictable Affection: One moment, he’s distant, giving you a look like, "Don't touch me, peasant." The next, he’s curling up next to you, arms crossed, muttering, “You’re warm. Don’t move.” And if you do move? He glares like you’ve committed a crime.

Sharp Reflexes & Silent Steps: He moves way too quietly, and it’s unnerving. You turn around, and he’s just there. He doesn’t mean to sneak up on people (or maybe he does, for fun), but his cat-like agility makes it easy.

Tail as an Emotional Indicator: No matter how well he controls his expressions, his tail always gives him away. Flicking? Annoyed. Slowly swaying? Amused or scheming. Wrapping around someone’s arm? He’s comfortable but pretending he’s not.

Dramatic Reactions: If you step on his tail by accident, prepare for the most exaggerated reaction. He’ll yelp, glare at you like you’ve committed an unforgivable sin, and act like he’s dying—until you apologize and give him attention.

Instinctive Need to Knock Things Over: He won’t admit it, but if something is precariously placed on a table’s edge, he’s tempted. Sometimes, when he’s alone, he’ll just… slowly push something off a surface. Just to see it fall.

Hisses When Startled: It’s rare, but if something truly catches him off guard, he’ll hiss before he can stop himself. If you tease him about it, he’ll get flustered and definitely try to gaslight you into thinking it never happened.

Super Soft Fur: His ears and tail are ridiculously soft. If you manage to touch them (and survive), you’ll realize they feel like the finest velvet. He hates admitting it, but grooming them is a guilty pleasure.

Imagine—when he smirks, you catch a glimpse of slightly sharper-than-human canines, adding to his already mischievous and unpredictable charm.

Fangs & Smirks: He doesn’t always show them, but when he grins in that smug, knowing way, the little flash of fangs makes him look even more teasing—like a cat that just knocked something over and is proud of it.

Biting Habit: He has a bad habit of lightly biting things when he’s deep in thought—like the tip of his glove, a pen, or even (if you’re close enough) your sleeve. It’s never aggressive, just an unconscious feline quirk. If you point it out, he’ll stop immediately and give you a very defensive look.

Playful but Dangerous? If he gets really comfortable with someone, he might teasingly act like he’ll nip their fingers when they try to touch his ears or tail—just enough for a light, harmless scrape of fangs. But if you’re someone he doesn’t trust? He’ll bare his teeth in a silent "Back off."

Heat Sensitivity: His ears are weirdly sensitive to temperature changes. If it’s cold, they get chilly fast, and if it’s hot, he gets extra grumpy. He might even press his ears against your palm absentmindedly, only to realize what he’s doing and immediately act like it never happened.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Unspoken Melody p.19

Hi guys, here's a new part of the story, if you've missed part 18 here it is :) If you want to read more of my stories, here's my masterlist.

Two drivers, one unforgettable concert, and a chance encounter with a pop sensation that leaves Oscar questioning everything he thought about music—and maybe even himself.

You were tucked into one of the corner couches in McLaren hospitality, sipping on a cold drink and basking in the leftover glow of the afternoon. The garage had been electric during qualifying—engines roaring, engineers on edge, the entire team holding their collective breath. You loved being part of it, even if only from the sidelines.

And seeing Lando land P3 and Oscar right behind in P4? It had sent a bolt of pride straight through your chest. You’d hugged Lando with a laugh, and when Oscar had finally walked in, still in his race suit, you’d thrown your arms around him without even thinking. It had felt easy. Natural.

That’s what friends did, right?

Your phone started buzzing where it sat beside you, shaking against the tabletop.

You frowned, picking it up. Your manager.

You answered. “Hey, everything alright?”

“No,” she said quickly, and your stomach sank. “Are you sitting down?”

“I… yes?” Your voice wavered.

“There are photos of you and Oscar. From earlier. Hugging.”

You blinked. “Okay?”

“They’re everywhere. People are posting them like you’re some new paddock couple. It’s going viral.”

You sat up straighter, heart starting to race. “Wait, what? It wasn’t— It was just a hug. It’s not—”

“I know that,” she cut in gently, “but it doesn’t look like that. He looks… really into it.”

You went quiet. A little stunned.

“I—” you tried, “It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t—like that.”

There was a pause, and then her tone softened, but became serious. “I need you to go to the media room. They’re broadcasting the driver interviews. You need to see it.”

You stood up, legs feeling a little unsteady. “What did they say?”

“Just go look,” she said. “And until I figure out how to handle this, don’t talk to anyone. Don’t comment. Don’t smile at the wrong moment. Just… be invisible, okay?”

The line went dead.

Your chest felt tight as you made your way through the halls of the motorhome, dipping quietly into the media room, where a few engineers and marketing assistants were half-watching the screens.

You stood at the back, eyes locked on the monitor.

It was Oscar.

“…she’s important to me,” he was saying, voice calm but firm. “But this isn’t your story to tell. And if anyone else here wants to keep digging into something personal, I’m done. This is about racing. Keep it that way.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

You hadn’t seen that version of Oscar before. So collected. So controlled. But behind it… he was angry. You could see it in the way his jaw tensed just beneath the surface.

Someone beside you whistled under their breath. “Guess we know what’s trending now.”

You slipped out before anyone noticed.

You didn’t know how to feel—confused, guilty, weirdly exposed. It had been your fault. You’d hugged him. Maybe too long. Maybe too close. And now it was all spiralling out of proportion.

Suddenly, you heard the motorhome doors swing open. Quick, determined footsteps on the floor.

“Where is she?”

You froze.

Oscar’s voice echoed through the entry hall, low and sharp, like he hadn’t stopped moving since the interview.

Someone answered him—probably one of the hospitality girls—but you couldn’t hear her over the pounding of your heart. And then—

He appeared in the hallway. Still in his race suit, still looking very much like the driver he is. But now, his eyes softened the second they met yours.

You stood awkwardly, not sure whether to walk up or stay frozen in place. But it didn’t matter, because he reached you first.

“I’m sorry,” you both blurted out at the same time.

You stopped, then looked at each other—and laughed, just a little, both of you nervous.

“I didn’t mean for them to put you in the spotlight,” you whispered.

“I didn’t mean to make things worse,” he said at the same time.

You looked at him. Really looked.

His brows were furrowed. The little crease between them you always noticed when he was focusing hard—now it was there in full force. But behind all that, there was something else.

Care.

He gestured gently toward the hall. “Come with me?”

You nodded.

You followed him down the quiet corridor and into his driver’s room. It was small and simple—his fireproof undersuit hanging on the back of a chair, a water bottle half-finished on the table, his cap tossed onto the bed like he hadn’t cared where it landed.

He shut the door softly and turned to you.

“I’m really sorry,” he said again, and this time slower. “I should’ve been more careful.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I hugged you. You just stood there like a deer in headlights.”

Oscar snorted. “A very happy deer.”

That made you laugh, despite yourself. The tension in the room eased just a little.

“Seriously,” he added, stepping closer, his expression gentling. “You didn’t do anything wrong. But I should’ve known the cameras would catch it. I just… I didn’t care in the moment. I wasn’t thinking about them. I was just happy.”

You looked at him, heart fluttering. “You were?”

He smiled. “You were proud of me. That meant something.”

Your cheeks burned. You glanced down at your shoes. “Well… I was.”

He reached out, gently brushing your arm. “Look, I know this has gotten messy. And I know your manager is probably flipping out. But if I had to go back and choose between that hug and none at all, I’d choose it again.”

You swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. “Me too.”

He exhaled, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Okay then.”

You sat down on the bench under the window while he grabbed two cold bottles of water from the mini fridge and handed you one.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

For a few minutes, you both just sat there. Quiet. No cameras. No speculation. Just two people in a tiny room trying to make sense of the storm outside.

And somehow, being with him made the noise fade away.

Next part

@justaf1girl, @bm571158, @raweceekk

[thestormynobody]

Turnabout Timeloop Chapter 1

“I’ve heard enough. It’s time to declare my verdict.”

(This is bad.) Apollo didn’t have the evidence needed to turn this around. (What should I do???) He was out of options, wasn’t he? (That doesn’t matter!! I can come up with a good reason why. For now, I just need to ob-)

“Guilty.”

(….ject)

Almost instantly, a voice rings out across the courtroom. “NO!!!!! Frin would never do something like that!! Let them go!!!” Bonnie struggles helplessly in Odile’s arms. They must have found a way to sneak into the courtroom after all. Odile’s expression is unreadable as she tries to usher them back out of the courtroom. None of them had wanted Bonnie to see this.

Apollo’s client, Sifferin, nomiddlename nolastname (Still can’t believe that was allowed), stares in horror at the commotion. “Bonbon….”  They look shattered. Understandably so, considering they were just declared guilty of murder, and in front of Bonnie, no less. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t- I just- wanted to-I’m sorry.” Their voice is small. Practically drowned out by the scuffle happening in the back of the room.

(What do they mean?) Was there something he missed? There had to have been. It just didn’t add up. (I wish I had more time to investigate, maybe I could’ve-)

Apollo

Feels 

A 

Tug 

On 

His 

Stomach 

Apollo wakes up at his desk in the Wright Anything Agency. (A dream? Man. I must be really stressed about this case if I’m dreaming about losing it huh? That dream was weirdly detailed though….weird.) 

He tilts his head back and forth to try and deal with his stiff neck. It pops unpleasantly.

“You’re going to end up with back problems like me, you know.” A familiar voice calls out.

Phoenix. Wright. His boss. Didn’t he say something like this before? Apollo had just kind of responded noncommittally in the dream, something about not doing it again. It was pretty passive, and he’d felt weird about it after. Like he was a kid getting scolded by his dad. (Gross.) 

“Dunno, Mr. Wright. You sure you’re not just old?” 

“HA. I guess you don’t want this coffee then. More for me.”

“Wait, no I was just joking-” he wanted that coffee.

“Yeah, yeah I know-” He pauses and with a devious smirk adds “....kiddo.” and ruffles Apollo’s hair.

(Eugh.) Apollo nabs the coffee from Phoenix’s hand and downs it. He’s not sure how long he slept but he needs to get to work. There was lots to do. Meet with the client, investigate the crime scene, interview the witnesses…the sooner he got started the better. He didn’t want a repeat performance of his dream.

“Alright, you know Trucy and I are going to be out of town for her next show. Gonna have to get your own coffee for a few days. “

“I’m sure I’ll manage.” It was kind of a shame. Mr. Wright did make weirdly good coffee. Maybe he worked at a coffee shop at some point when he was disbarred? Who knows. Wasn’t like he’d tell Apollo if he had.

“Good luck on your case. I know Prosecutor Von Karma can be intimidating but she’s mellowed out a lot since I faced her in court. You got this!”

Prosecutor Von Karma…she had been practicing law abroad for some time now and had only just recently returned to Ka Bue. The daughter of Manfred Von Karma, the prosecutor with one of the longest win streaks known in the law world as well as the adoptive sister of the head prosecutor Miles Edgeworth. Family legacy aside, she was well known to be very good at what she did and to take very little nonsense in the courtroom. He’d have to be at the top of his game if he was going to be facing her. In his dream she’d been as formidable as he’d imagined… Perhaps it was some sort of subconscious warning against complacency? Sure. He’d go with that.

“Athena’s out of the office today but should be able to assist you in the trial tomorrow if you need back up.” He knew she’d been enjoying some down time after her last big case and didn’t want to drag her into his own workload. Still, her skills were invaluable in many past cases so he should consider his options carefully.  

“Water Charley for me, won’t you?”

Oh, he’d been in his own head about the case and not responding to Mr. Wright, oops. “Of course. I’ve got things here Mr. Wright. Go enjoy Trucy’s show”

“I know you’ve got this, I just gotta do my job as your boss, heh. See ya in a few days.”

“Don’t forget to take a few videos of the show for me!”

“‘Course.” He says as he leaves the room with a small wave.

 He fixes his signature spikes and pulls on his suit pinning his badge to the lapel. 

His pretrial nerves were starting to get to him as well as lingering weirdness from the dream. Well. No one was here to judge him for doing his cords of steel warm ups as he got ready sooo-

“APOLLO JUSTICE IS DOING FINE!!”

“APOLLO! JUSTICE! IS DOING FINE!”

“I'M FINE!”

“I! AM! FINE!”

(Alright!! All warmed up! It's go time, Apollo!)

He hops on his bike and pedals away to the detention center. He vaguely remembers how there had been a traffic jam in his dream so he takes an alternative route where he could stick to side streets more. Silly maybe but hey if his subconscious was trying to protect him from being late who was he to argue?

  A woman is waiting for him outside the building. She is technically the one who hired him. (Odile if I remember correctly. She’s a Ka Buan citizen but has been abroad up until recently. She was part of a group that saved the country of Vaugarde.) 

This case was somewhat of a diplomatic nightmare. Despite the distance, Vauguarde and Ka Bue were in pretty good standing with one another. Convicting one the saviors of Vauguarde carried steep political implications. A citizen of Ka Bue had been murdered though and the law was clear that justice must be served regardless of the circumstances of the accused. It was his job to prove his client innocent and possibly prevent an international incident. (No pressure!)

“Mr. Justice.” She says it more as a statement than a question. HIs defense badge must have given him away.

“Yes, ma'am! At your service!”  He realizes he sounds a bit too over eager and tones it back a bit. “You must be madame Odile?”

“That’s correct.” She gives him an appraising look. Her expression does not give away any conclusions she may have drawn. “Thank you for coming out on such short notice.”

“Of course.” (Short notice is kind of the norm in my experience…) 

“Siffrin is inside. They wouldn’t let me inside to talk to them but they should let you in as his lawyer.” 

(She seems calm for someone whose friend is currently being held on suspicion of murder. She’s either one tough lady or she’s convinced they didn’t do it.)

“I’ll see if I can get you visitation privileges after I talk to them.” 

She gives him a small nod. “Thank you.”

Apollo enters the detention center trying not to think too hard about how Odile had appeared so accurately in his dream. It was probably just his brain mixing up memory with dreams after all. She just looks similar enough that his brain THINKS it's the same! (....yeah that’s gotta be it)

His client looks very distraught. Understandable considering the circumstances but they look like they’re on the verge of a panic attack. (I should do something to calm them down.)

In Vauguardian he says: “Hey, breathe for a second alright?” When their attention snaps to him he hesitates for a moment then: “Here um. LIke this?” He breathes in. Then out. 

They follow his lead and after a bit seem to have centered themself a bit. A realization seems to dawn on them a moment later however. “How did you know to do that?”

“A breathing exercise? I mean. It's a pretty common calming technique isn’t it?”

“No- You…did it differently before” 

“Before…?” (I did do it differently in the dream didn’t I? This way seemed to work better for them in the dream so I guess I just led with it? But that was just a dream. Wasn’t it???)

They seem to be deep in thought for a long moment then they fix an intense look on him. “Something of mine was found on the victim. What was it?”

“A coin.”

The answer was so automatic he surprises himself. That wasn’t right. He hadn’t even been to the crime scene yet. Sure in his dream there’d been a coin but that was just-

“Stars. You remember.”

[angy-grrr]

Why does Hori always choose the complicated way out 😭 like, Iz/och already had a good history together in the timeline of the skip, so idk why he thought it would make sense for them to be so weirdly distant.

And if he worried over Toga, he could have just made Uraraka think about her fondly, and being happy that she was able to achieve something for her, and Izuku being glad that he is a part of it and that she is doing well since what happened years ago.

It was a perfect and chill set up but idk what went down.

you know what went down? That nobody gave a single fuck about the plain ship for years and most of their interactions are vague or just straight up friendly. I wouldn’t call what they had a “good” history, but it was the least worse kind of way to do it -just make them date, don’t focus too much on being dramatic or whatever as it doesn’t fit the characters and their dynamic like at all. It’s a plain ship, we can’t act like they are star crossed lovers when there’s absolutely nothing crossing them apart lol so if it was so important to make them kinda a thing, then making it chill was the best option. This level of drama and repression makes no sense when they are boy and girl on the same side same ideology same ideals supported by everyone and have nothing against each other, and it’s not even like she was feeling guilty over Himiko -she JUST started having those dreams when HE got the suit, which makes everything feel even more off:

1 it implies they don’t talk/see each other anymore. If she just starts thinking about talking more to him and getting even dreams about those “desires” in such a short time, it means they didn’t try to keep in contact really. Terrible setup for a dramatic confession/canonization when nothing separates them besides them not trying to be together.

2 It implies Himiko’s ghost is exclusively there for Ochako’s feelings. While this could be interesting to explore, it feels tone deaf when she only appears in relation to him to push Ochako towards him -as if she would never actually agree or try it if she was completely alone. Makes her look like an incomplete character -she needs Izuku and Himiko to work in the story, she isn’t allowed to just present herself and be strong enough as a character to be interesting for the readers. 3 Himiko’s love is supposed to be equivalent to Ochako’s love for Deku, which is insulting to a queer narrative considering how different they actually are -she isn’t even weird about him, she’s supported by everyone, everyone actually sees that “love” from the start and want her to get together with him, or at least are okay with it, and one of the most important ones, Deku doesn’t reject her nor judge her. I say this bc back when Himiko confessed, Deku was against an idea of love that related to some form of violent act, and Ochako showed us how she accepted it even if she didn’t try to attack. In the end, the love was mutual as Himiko got hurt by Ochako’s love -even if she didn’t do anything actively, as she reached her heart Toga realized she wants her to live more than anything else-, and at the same time expressed that form of love ppl like Deku and Ochako would understand (sacrifice; this act mixed their forms of love in one, having the heroic aspect of Ochako’s and the grotesque aspect of Himiko’s). This is really interesting, especially bc Deku and Katsuki also experienced this -he got hurt bc Deku showed how close he was to his heart-, but instead of exploring any of that… we are supposed to see it as “deku and ochako have the same type of love, they are the good ones, he wouldn’t reject her”, but still they haven’t talked about any of that either. It’s not an “I realized you and I feel the same way about love”, and still, narratively speaking we get no references to his idea of love in relation to Ochako (he says he could never hurt someone he loved, but we never see him in the manga giving her more of a special attention or protectiveness/possessiveness; the “most” is honestly pretty vague, and doesn’t work to come across as “that’s the love of his life and he doesn’t even know it”). They are way too similar, so we can’t really understand why exactly would we be happy about them not talking for years (losing the little nice foundation they had: friends to lovers, which sure, can be tricky, but hey at least it was something) and just now deku realizing she’s super special. I’m sorry, while it could be cute to have him just noticing his feelings and whatever, it doesn’t work bc THEY HAVENT TALKED TO EACH OTHER IN 8 YEARS AND A MONTH AND THEY WERE PERFECTLY FINE WITH IT. They just aren’t friends anymore. you can’t as an author tell us destiny brings them together and they must unite when they didn’t really bothered or payed attention to losing the other -Ochako was just “yearning” once they started working together, she was doing fine before! And deku cared even less! How could we believe they love each other so much when the lose of the other means so little it doesn’t even comes across their mind? I’m not saying making them miserable is good writing, but c’mon, they had a casual nice friendship according to 431 and then just lost contact, and NOW they are supposed to inevitably be together once again? Why would we believe that? The worse part? He knows how to write compelling romance, he did it for La Brava and Gentle Criminal, and he did it with Himiko and Ochako. He KNOWS. that’s why I say he just didn’t care lol

Also, I have seen someone saying “oh but it’s just like what happened with La Brava and Gentle, that the absence of the other just made the love grow stronger”, but that’s just not what happened here: I repeat, THEY DIDNT CARE ABOUT NOT TALKING TO EACH OTHER 90% of the separation, and DEKU JUST STARTED NOW BC MULTIPLE PPL TALKED ABOUT SIMILAR THINGS AND HE WAS LOOKING FOR A NEW THING TO FOCUS ON. NO LOVE GREW THESE YEARS, IN FACT THE ONLY ONE WHO STARTED FEELING STUFF MORE AND MORE WAS OCHAKO JUST THE PAST MONTH. AND HE DIDNT GROW ANY LOVE OF ATTENTION TOWARDS HER. LIKE AT ALL. NOT EVEN AS A FRIEND. HE DOESNT EVEN TRY TO TALK TO IIDA. WHO IS THIS MAN. WHO WROTE THIS.

[starsofang]

you deserve hell fire for this chapter. my emotions are everywhere. do you get off on pain? do you hate me? do you hate your other readers? do you hate the 141? do you hate dove? DO YOU HATE HAPPINESS???

The description of Graves is absolutely and utterly fucking disgusting and I feel like puking reading about it so thank you for that angie 😐 how dare you let him put his hands on dove????? HE GRABBED AND AND PUSHED HER TO THE GROUND. “She’s getting kicked down repeatedly.” - You in my Dm’s 2 days ago. I DIDNT KNOW YOU MEANT LITERALLY😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 WHAT IS WDONG WITH YOU😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 He put his nasty foot on her which okay first off, he needs to kill himself in the most violent way possible.

Im going to off on a nursing rant here because whenever I see injured mentioned in fanfiction my little nurse brain becomes happy. The pressure he would’ve had to put on her to actually crack and or break her rib is insane. People think it’s easy to break a rib but in reality ribs are protecting the heart, lungs and multiple other very needed organs. They NEED to be strong. He would’ve had to been practically stepping on her, he needed to be meaning to break her rib. Not to mention the healing process of broken ribs is excruciating. Anyways….

I come to your unholy abode to murder you with my screaming of how fucking amazing the chapter was despite my crying. The way they were worried about her, the way they were truly showing that she meant something to them and they weren’t just heartless brutes. I mean WE knew that but did she?? The wayJohn Fucking Price YELLS AND THREATENS GRAVES. THE WAY HE KNEW HOW TO HIT A NERVE. THE WAY HE COULD SHOW POWER EVEN WITH A GUN TO HIS HEAD. GIVE ME HIM NOW. MY LEGS ARW WIDE OPEN.

AND GAZ😭😭 “Talk to me, dove, I’m right here, focus on me.” WHAT THE FUCK😭😭 He worries so much about her, he fucking adores her and that’s what I love about Gaz and how you write him you crazy maniac. And as much as I would love to continue to speak about him let me skirt over to the fucking telescope. Why. why???? why would you sit here, make us think that the telescope was a sweet gift and even tease us with a kiss and the have graves STEAL IT?? THE LEAST YOU COULDVE DONE WAS GIVE US THAT DAMN KISS.???? My notes are progressively getting longer because I actually had typed out my opinion on the prophecy in my docs and i even MENTIONED the telescope before I was like “nah that doesn’t make sense.” YOY GASLIGHTED ME. WHAT DOES HE WANT WITH THAT DAMB THING.

THEM IMMEDIATELY GOING TO HER😭😭 GHOST FEELINGS GUILTY AND PRICE HATING WHAT HAPPENED😭😭 “We need a medic.” “She’s the medic!” That’s weirdly heartbreaking in a way that I could not put into words. Them all turning around hesitantly and not because they wan’t to be weirdos but because they are all so confused and concerned and don’t want to take their eyes off her. ESPECIALLY SOAP😭

Something is going to happen whilst they are on land looking for a doctor🤷🏼‍♀️ I just know you a bit too well by now.

THE KISS. THE KISS. THE KISS. THE KISS. ARE YOU GUYS HEARING ME. THE FUCKING KISS. HE GOT TO HER FIRST DESPITE EVERYTHING. “As long as I’m first.” OKAY SO MAYBE FUCK ME PLEASE?????????? HE STAYED WITH HER😭 SHE IS EVERYTHING TO THEM😭😭

IM KILLING YOU ANGIE😭😭😭😭

here comes my biggest opp 🙄

to be fair, i did warn u. in my own words, i said she got fucked up, i meant that shit. it’s my dream to write angst 😍 fun fact rlly fun fact i have a crush on cod graves so i had to make him as despicable as possible in this fic so i dont start to trip over him

i am no nurse, im working in a pharmacy for my degree (slay) but BOY DO I KNOW THAT SHIT HURTS. im the clumsiest person alive and ive broken so many bones that it’s sad atp. SO SOMEBODY UNDERSTANDS THE EXTENT OF A FRACTURE ESPECIALLY TO THE RIBS BECAUSE MY GOD THAT SHIT FEELS LIKE YOURE BREATHING THRU A JUICEBOX, PLS i had to make dove suffer as i have

THE ROOM SCENE WITH ALL OF THEM WAS MY FAVORITE TO WRITE UGHHHH FINALLY HAVING THEM ALL CONVERSING AS ONE AND SHARING THEIR WORRIES 😫 like a steak dinner istg

(i make no promises for next chapter, or the ones upcoming) (i have not planned it yet)

THE KISS I TOLD YOU TO TRUST MEEEE WHEN HAVE I EVER LET YOU DOWN. u were going crazy in my dms threatening murder and look here we are. u got ur wish. never falter in ur trust in me bc everybody knows by now when i say trust you trust 🗣️

also absolutely hearing you out on price. he’s a damn fine sir in this fic. it makes me hungry. i did it all for u.

I LOVE YOUUU 😜

[eliotquillon]

Would you write any flirtatious chase-cameron banter? Preferably set at a late night in the hospital after everyone's gone home and they're stuck doing labs, looking after a patient and they're a teensy bit delirious so it's weirdly also very honest and vulnerable.

anon i bet you thought i forgot about this req didn't you. NEVER FEAR. this actually took me a while to figure out what to do with (i love writing banter but flirtatious banter is scary especially for a 'new' fandom) (i still consider myself new to this fandom) but here we go. set vaguely during a non-specific part of fwb era--if pressed i'll say between 3x15 and 3x16, but the details are not relevant lol:

House, of course, leaves PPTH at 5pm on the dot with strict orders to keep running lab stains and PCR tests on their latest patient until they get a positive result. “Not like you three have anything better to do,” he calls over his shoulder, while Foreman rolls his eyes and Chase tries to catch Cameron’s eye. She’s not paying attention–too busy adjusting her glasses tiredly while she peers into a microscope, hair ruffled in a way that reminds him of her rolling out of his bed that morning–and Chase tells himself he’s not disappointed. They’re not together. It’s just sex. It shouldn’t matter that they had half-formed plans to get Indian takeout and play a drinking game while watching old episodes of General Hospital together that was almost definitely going to lead to–

“Alright, I’m out,” Foreman declares at midnight. “This isn’t fair, I wore the beeper last night. One of us needs to be awake for the differential tomorrow.” “Nice excuse,” Chase mutters darkly. “You mind bringing us up some coffee from the cafeteria before you go, Judas?”

“That’d be great,” Cameron adds, all faux-earnest charm, and Foreman actually has the grace to look a little bit guilty at that. He leaves the coffees on the lab benches–definitely not best practice, but nor is making three overworked doctors run labs all night–and leaves with the promise to relieve them at 6am if they come up with no further answers. Chase, of course, doesn’t believe him for a second, but this seems to pacify Cameron; she shoots him a suspiciously sunny smile, and wishes him good night.

As soon as Foreman’s out the door, she says, “And then there were two.” “And then there were two,” Chase echoes, eyeing her warily from where he’s waiting for the centrifuge to recalibrate. “Not quite what I meant when I asked if you wanted to hang out tonight.” That’s usually how they put it, in public–do you want to hang out later? Wanna grab some dinner? It’s really more for Chase’s sanity than Cameron’s; she seems unusually blasé about the whole friends-with-benefits situation, which is fine, honestly, but is it so crazy to just want to keep things to themselves for a while? To not want the hospital gossip mill offering their opinion on what is, objectively, a private decision between two consenting adults? And it’s not like Chase knows how to phrase it any other way. Cameron, if she had her own way, would keep being forthright about it: want to have sex later? Cool. Collected. And it isn’t that Chase has an issue with it, exactly. It’s just as she said it would be, after all. No strings attached. Easy peasy. But there’s just something so clinical about it. It feels strange, especially from Cameron, who he always assumed would be the flowers-and-dinner type.

“We could,” Cameron says now, pushing back her chair and spinning to face him. “If you wanted.” “You don’t mean,” Chase starts, fighting his flush at the thought of Cameron and sex and the fucking pathology lab, and Cameron grins from ear to ear.

“Hang out,” she finishes, simple and guileless. “I guess we’re doing it anyway, right? No harm in taking a quick break to chat.”

“That is not what you meant,” Chase accuses. God, she would probably kill him for thinking it, but there really is something beautiful about Cameron in the lab. Even when she’s exhausted and frustrated there’s a part of her that just lights up when given a microscope and a set of slides, like she’s some overeager freshman biology major donning a lab coat for the first time. It’s lit up right now: in the slightly manic gleam in her eye, in her rolled-up sleeves, in her glasses set half-askew on the edge of her nose. “Anyway, we don’t have time to chat. Unless you’re planning on being trapped in here with me all night.”

“And that would be so terrible,” Cameron hums, dangling her legs invitingly. She’d kill him for thinking this, too, but at this precise moment she seems so…normal. Not normal as in ordinary, quotidian, but normal as in not a woman with dead-husband-levels of hang-ups around relationships; normal as in the kind of woman Chase thinks he knows how to flirt with. It’s an illusion, but it’s almost like he could step right between the open vee of her legs and grin down at her teasingly, and almost like she would let him. 

Not that he wants to. Not that she would let him. It’s just sex. Just convenience. Just…microwave pizza.

“So very terrible,” Chase agrees, turning back to the centrifuge so he doesn’t have to keep looking at her and thinking about it. “Good thing we’re not actually locked in together.” “That could probably be arranged,” Cameron says. He can’t see her anymore, but he imagines her smiling again, polishing her glasses on the edge of her coat and her bangs falling into her eyes, the way she looks at him sometimes when they’re walking out to her car together on the way out of work and their fingers accidentally brush together and Chase can pretend that she’s thinking about holding his hand. He thinks that’d be nice, sometime. Just holding Cameron’s hand–not out of any hidden romance, but just for the sake of it. He knows her hands so well, the cracked-dry knuckles and fingertips from scrubbing them multiple times a day and the faintly oily, lavender-scented sheen of her hand cream that always sticks to her palms, and she always holds his face, his shoulders, his hips, but never his hands. “Get someone to call in a bomb threat.” “Call in our own bomb threat,” Chase raises weakly.

“Pretend I’m holding you hostage.” “Hey, why are you holding me hostage?” Chase demands, glancing at her over his shoulder in an accusatory fashion. “I’m the man!”

“I’m a femme fatale,” Cameron smirks, “and you were the one who said we didn’t have time to chat.”

Their pagers go off then; their patient is coding. By the time she’s stable, House is harassing them via speakerphone about test results and his latest epiphany, and it’s like the hours in the lab never really happened. By the time Foreman slinks back in, arguably in a worse mood after two hours’ sleep than he’d be if he’d never slept in the first place, the silly lab banter has entirely slipped from Chase’s mind while Cameron gnaws frustratedly on her bottom lip, and he isn’t thinking about it at all.

Honestly. He isn’t.

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

ok i just finished season 1 of daredevil and i will have articulate things to say about it at some point but for now here's the stream of consciousness notes i took while i was watching:

-I like Jack Murdock as a portrayal of a loving but flawed parent — like he clearly cares for Matt so much and he’s doing his best but there’s some parts of a “normal” childhood he just doesn’t really have the resources to provide. That being said being stupidly self-sacrificial clearly runs in the family. Just take the dive and collect your money my guy 

-“you shouldn’t be sneaking around at night you could get hurt”/ “we need to do this within the legal system” Matthew you fucking hypocrite (affectionate)

-weirdly fascinated by the way Fisk & co. translate for their sketchy group meeting that always seem to take place in abandoned parking garages, especially with how Wesley gives the general idea of what they’re saying instead of a direct translation — ok update i suspected this was because Fisk actually understood what everyone was saying and I was right!

-I like Foggy but I disagree with him about the purpose of a defense attorney — he wants to represent people who aren’t guilty/were justified in what they did but everyone deserves representation even if they 100% did the thing and were 100% wrong in doing so 

-Honestly probably worked out better for Matt that Stick was only around for a couple of years at the most. Also symbolic that he left before teaching Matt to use knives — Matt never fully goes down the road of lethal force (I mean some of the things he does definitely would kill people in real life but in real life he’d also be dead so it evens out) or fully cuts off the people he cares about. Also are they implying that the reason Matt doesn’t permanently have broken ribs and/or major blood loss that he meditates? I mean suspension of disbelief obviously but that is. very funny 

-Fisk is, on the one hand, very detail-oriented, but he’s also impulsive and emotionally reactive, so he has to come up with plans to cover for it. Also I feel like his and Wesley’s relationship is going to implode at some point. Or one of them (probably Wesley since Fisk is like. the main villain) is going to die

-are they sponsored by Dell 

-obviously I know why they do this for cinematic reasons but it’s very funny that in-universe Fisk gives his entire speech in 1x08 without actually saying his name until he dramatically announces at the end. Although maybe that’s just for dramatic effect and in-universe he's just repeating it? Also don’t throw your computer Matt you have no money 

-Matt’s smug little smile when Karen says the man in the mask looks badass flipping around :3 

-“the whole wounded, handsome duck thing” 

-i love how much they dwell on the actual implications of finding out your friend is secretly a vigilante/has had superpowers the entire time you’ve known each other, and that knowing they go out at night to beat people up, even if it’s for the “right” reasons, would still be alarming 

-actually not bad on the nighttime colour-grading front! I can see what’s happening which is better than most shows 

-I appreciate that there’s an actual plot about/explanation of how Matt gets his body armour 

-Wow who could have guessed leaving the gun in the middle of the table was a bad idea. I kind of liked Wesley but honestly what a dumbass way to die. Do admire the bluff though “you don’t really believe I’d put a loaded gun where you could reach it?” 

-love the approach to superhero realism here — not necessarily in the abilities or the way the plot is constructed (although that’s good, too) but in the characters’ reactions (Foggy finding out about Matt; Karen when she kills Wesley, Fisk when he finds out Wesley is dead) 

-“I thought your days of being relevant were past” ouch 

-reasons Wilson Fisk is evil: murder, drug dealing, doesn’t like cat videos 

-I do like that Fisk kind of gets the power of friendship thing though? But like it makes him worse 

-I’m very much not the most qualified to make this judgement and I’d want to check what people who actually *are* in a position to judge have to say about it, but I feel like this show has a bit of an… orientalism problem, I guess? But orientalism that also includes Russians, and also I know this is partly an extension of her being a very minor character but Doris (Ben Urich’s wife) is the only character who seems like she’s *only* there to like. encourage others through her wise words and doesn’t have much of an internal life of her own (besides the priest I guess but I feel like with priests that’s kind of their job) 

-Did Foggy not go to Ben’s funeral? 

-Fisk is also going to kill Leland. Maybe stop killing all your allies Fisk 

-I think it’s cute that Matt still holds onto Foggy’s arm when they’re walking even when it’s just the two of them and Foggy already knows that he doesn’t need to do it 

-Why does Marvel keep naming wise mentor figures who die Ben? Matt and Peter Parker should make a club (is Ben Urich in the comics? I haven't read the comics)

-“while actively being arrested” has got to win some sort of award for worst marriage proposal but I guess I admire that he just went for it? 

-Ominously large number of minutes left in this episode after the seeming resolution 

-Matt’s dumbass little horns <3

-Fisk: “You think one man in a silly little costume will make a difference?” bro *you* thought one man in a silly little costume would make a difference when you were the one man. Also I hope the silly little costume protects Matt from blunt force trauma 

-I’m honestly still not entirely sure how/if Nelson & Murdock actually made any money

-I feel like that bit near the beginning where Karen and Matt both have secrets and Foggy’s like “I wish I had a secret” describes their dynamic basically

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

god. this is a really selfish and stupid ask but i've been feeling weirdly guilty so. is it okay to like an autistic coded character?

okay it sounds stupid on paper but there's this character who i like. blorbo, if you will. anyway one of the reasons i think blorbo is a cool and interesting character is that blorbo was born with impressive powers that made her deemed too dangerous for the world, and they had to remove them, taking away what made her herself to her own detriment- blorbo is left with a permanent stutter and a permanent blow to her self-esteem.

so it turns out blorbo is autistic coded

and i don't feel like it'd be right for me to like blorbo because she's tragic if there are real people who go through the same thing. but i really like blorbo and think she's a really cool and interesting character

so basically

aita?

Hi there,

I think there are a lot of neurodivergent characters out there, however I don’t think the writers meant them to be neurodivergent (if that makes sense).

And many have head cannons about characters too. I’ll share one with you.

There was this gothic novel I had to write about in college called “We Have Always Lived in the Castle”. The two main characters are Mary Katherine (Marikat for short), and her sister, Constance.

Constance has agoraphobia, which means she doesn’t go outside, so Marikat has to go out during the week to pick up things for the house.

Something interesting about Marikat is that she follows a schedule. Like many neurodivergent people like to do. She usually goes to get a cup of coffee before running errands (if I remember correctly). However, the boys in town tease her each time she goes out, which probably makes her upset. And she’s very interested in types of poisonous things. Like mushrooms.

And the cloths she wear are very different from her sister’s, who wears bright dresses. While Marikat usually wears darker clothes, and I don’t think I’ve seen her wear a dress.

It would make sense if she was neurodivergent. She follows a schedule, wears clothes that others might find strange, and her special interests is most likely poison.

Here’s a picture of them. Constance is the one with the bright pink dress. Mary Katherine is the one wearing the dark shirt/dress.

Anyway, I don’t think it weird to like an “autism coded” character.

Holly molly that was a long answer. Lol.

I hope this helped answer your question. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ❤️