#he is blind as hell and has scoliosis

[buttered-milky]

Diversity win! The war criminal who just committed genocide is disabled!

[seanceofghouls]

What are your disabled ghoul hcs?

OH BOY SO some of this is just projection because I like to project onto characters I like but my most fleshed out headcanon is for Dewdrop

My headcanon for Dew is the transition from water to fire was extremely rough in his body and it didn’t fully work. While yes he is now a fire ghoul, his body can’t handle the fire magic coursing through him and slowly it is basically burning him away, weakening his organs and muscles bit by bit. It’s gotten to the point he can’t stand or walk for long periods of time. It’s also weakened his hands and arms giving him carpel tunnel like symptoms hence why he wears the compression sleeves.

I also headcanon Rain using a cane due to his body not being made for life on land. It was made to be underwater so the gravity on his already flexible joints causes a lot of pain as well as for his legs to randomly give out (he has very thin and delicate bones like a fish and his tail is mostly cartilage, so his bones break very easily) he’s also pigeon toed (I’m so sorry if this is an outdated term it’s the term I’ve always heard for my own condition) which causes him to trip often so the cane offers extra stability when walking.

Phantom has hEDS, and has a similar issue to rain, the quint area of hell has much lower gravity than anywhere else or earth so the gravity on his joints causes chronic pain but it also causes him to be unstable while walking due to not being used being in such a heavy gravity area, so he uses forearm crutches for extra stability and to releive the pressure on his hips which are prone to popping out of place.

Zephyr is mostly blind so he had a seeing eye hellhound summoned specifically for him! He also has braille stickers on the keys of his keyboard so even in the low light of a concert he’s able to play just as well! He also has scoliosis which causes back pain when standing or walking for too long hence why he had a chair!

Like I said, a lot of this is projection and I plan on hitting more ghouls with my disability beam soon but it is 4:30 am but I will update this as I have more headcanons !!!

[tiredaf23]

Headcanon time >:3 (gotta cut the post bc its too long 😔)

Curly:

he/him, probably they too.

Most definitely our panromantic asexual (repulsed) icon

Probably around 34-ish, I'd say 38 at most

I know he was originally supposed to be British, but he's Icelandic to me

White (Icelandic) but moved to America when he was around 22-ish, so his accent is a little softer than before.

100% has a Dinosaur plush he named "Curlasaurus"

Audhd (idk man, i just see it), BPD (unhealthy attachments to people lead to unintentional biases), and GAD (having to keep the peace also leads into anxiety disorders).

Only 100% able-bodied, no pain on the ship fr 😔

________

Swansea

You will never find an Appalachian dad who isn't like Swansea. Source, my grandpa.

He/him, doesn't understand but will definitely try.

57 to 62 years old. Look at him. He's old (/silly)

That one text meme:

Boy shut up. Boy shut up. Boy shut up. Boy shut up.

Okay, sorry...

Boy you want hotdogs?

Straight

White (either Virginian or from North Carolina)

Unironically wears bass pro shop merch

Depression (due to divorce and loss of kids)

Arthritis and carpal tunnel (old hag/j)

Had jaundice at one point. It scared the shit out of him and he slowed his roll on alcohol because he was scared to leave his kids. This was before his divorce.

______

Anya (party hat Anya :D)

She/her, but also okay with bell/snow neo pronouns

25 to 30 years old. Somewhere around there!

Lesbian at first, but completely repulsed with everything after the Jimmy incident

She owns a little stiffed teddy bear that has a nurse's outfit on!

Since she was around 8, snow always wanted to be a nurse!

Sounds like Fluttershy from MLP and I know using ponies is kinda iffy with headcanons, but I love Fluttershy and I love Anya and I need them both to be my mothers. 👁👁

Swansea won't admit it, but he's a major sweet tooth. ^w^

Bell ses emoticons instead of emojis because she finds them "nicer and not as condescending"

Egyptian and Greek! I don't think a lot of people realize how close the two were hand-in-hand in history. Hell, Cleopatra was Greek!

Depression, MAD (major anxiety disorder) OCD, chronic intrusive thoughts, slight hallucinations (static in her vision and random soft voices)

Blind in her left eye. I like the idea of bell needing glasses because of the OST cover.

_______

Daisuke

Any pronouns work for him as long as you still refer to them as a guy. She's cis but is apathetic to pronouns.

Probably 18 to 23 years old. Somewhere in the "I'm an adult, but my brain isn't fully developed" stage.

Queer as in "idk yet but I'm not questioning."

Adores xenogenders and will ask you rant about yours.

Guys are you skibidi alpha?

Okay, idk what time frame it's set, but he'd totally say this.

Japanese (canon) and Native American (I'm not sure what tribe, as I'm not sure how exactly to headcanon Native characters in detail)

ADHD (i mean come on), depression (homelife), PTSD (homelife)

Scoliosis and chronic pains. Probably needs a cane but he says YOLO unironically, he ain't using it (that's dangerous, please use your mobility aids if you need them)

Definitely punk at heart, but doesn't like dressing it because he feels punk shouldn't have a dress code (kinda self incorporated in there)

Definitely owns blue laces though, it you catch what I mean 👀

_______

Jimmy

He/him, probably not 100% homophobic (as in he won't threaten you for it) but will use the whole "a gay guy hit on me once" schpiel to avoid gay people

Around 35-ish. I want him to be close to the age of Curly, but not quite his age, ya know?

Straight. Dead blank. Makes Swansea ashamed for being straight.

Mixed (white and Mexican)

Didn't come from a good home. Due to the (very unfortunate) stereotype of "Mexican mom's are brutal", Jimmy didn't get help to get away from his abuse. He grew up in Texas where everyone thought it was okay and didn't say anything.

Probably snaps often. While sometimes he doesn't mean it, he never apologizes for it. He grew up thinking apologizes are for pussies.

Now I'm not using this as an excuse for his actions. It's just proven that people who come from bad homes are more likely to be bad people. This does not mean you are a bad person. Not everyone who comes from bad homes become bad people.

I think it's Canon bro's a brony and I'm gonna make it worse: He watched the Rainbow Dash incident on repeat and flat out refused to watch the show after it became Canon she's a lesbian.

This is going to be the controversial part. Mental disorders. Because no matter what I put here, it can be seen as "demonizing" a disorder. I'm not. I'm going straight off of the DSM-5. I got bored and read it during school (technically yesterday, it's 1am, Nov 2nd, and I cant sleep) so I spent 3 - 4 hours total reading and putting these characters in the categories I think they're in.

I do NOT believe in cluster-b abuse!! I do NOT believe that my headcanons for Jimmy's disorders are an excuse for his actions. I do NOT defend Jimmy.

I just wanted to say that before I put them down.

NPD, Bipolar, C-PTSD, autism, BPD, anorexia.

Hypermobility, tic disorder (because it's visible, I put it with the physical disorders, though I acknowledge it's a neurological one), and chronic pains in his knee and lower back.

[hobohobby99writer]

Hello

I'm Swirls!!!! (obvy not my real name) I'm 25 and she/hers/hers I live in Canada it's very cold! I'm devastatingly almost unemployed but I feed the homeless!

This is my side blog my other blog is hobohobby!! (It's a little more unhinged)

I want to be a professional writer.

I love making friends but please don't text me a list of critiques you have about my writing you can post a few in my comments but just a list bashing it is pretty mean.

This is a safe space

DNI homophobes, transphobes, pervs!!!

DNI if you vote trump!!

DNI if you are an abelist!!

DNI if you think "everybody has a little bit of autism" DNI if you are against people with aspd, DNI if you think d.i.d is fake. DNI if you think you're OCD because you like your house clean. DNI if you think people with addictions and homelessness are subhuman. DNI if you are against hypersensitivity or hypo. DNI if you think you have to see disability.

I was born into a very neglectful and brutal household. My Mum has Bordeline personality disorder and a meth addiction. My father is an extremely abusive alcoholic with a meth addiction. My stepdad adopted me at 17 he is an amazing man. But he is passing away of end stage empsymema. My sibling harasses the hell out of me. I'm married to a wonderful man who has severe autism and cannot work. His siblings are ruthless about him just getting a job even tho he can't.

There is my trauma dump. I've been in poverty for 25 years if I were to publish my book "It's been 5 o'clock for a really long time" I may be able to scrape by depending on if people read it or not.

My favorite movies are...

Dinner in America

BFG

Big fish

Cyberbully

Guess who's coming to dinner

Groundhog day

Oculus

Mother!

The shining

Cube

The village

Signs

Old

Sixth sense

Finding nemo

The machinist

My favorite shows are...

The wilds

Doctor who

Degrassi

My favorite authors are...

Lois Lowry, C.S Lewis, Dante, Beatrice Potter, Roald Dahl, Shel Silverstein.

My favorite songs are...

Pumped up kicks, kids, Ohio, wicked games, seven by rks, fast car.

My favorite foods are...

Cheesecake, chicken, turkey, duck, blueberries, fungus, blue cheese, perogies.

My favorite things are..

My husband, cat, the colour yellow, and bricks.

Diagnosises

Autism, Dyspraxia, ocd, ptsd, MRSA, HPV, scoliosis, major depressive disorder, PCOS, hypothyroidism, interstitial cystitis, kidney damage, blindness, hearing impaired, Athsma, generalized anxiety disorder, body dysmorphia, bulimia.

THIS IS ALL ABOUT ME

[fandom-monium]

hi! can i request some fluff with reader taking care of a sick reid pls? I love your fics 🧡

AN: Thank you!! Hope yall dont mind i switched it around :))

Doctor Nurse Reid

Summary: In which you get sick and Spencer looks after you. "I don't mind germs if they're from you."

WC: 2.1k

TW: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, poor badass Reader got a fever :(, fluff, mutual pining you know me :))

—

Something's wrong.

The thought crosses Spencer's mind like a lightning bolt, alarming enough it makes him look up from his morning reading to glance around the bullpen. Coworkers sitting at their desks, others sipping coffee in the kitchen, but no one's running around like there's a fire. Nothing stands out.

But something's wrong and he knows it. He's just not sure what. It makes him itch.

He runs through his morning routine. Socks mismatched—check. His morning coffee from his favorite coffee shop—check. He came in early—also check. Okay, he's good at least. He carefully scans the office again.

The blinds partially open, he can see Hotch bent over his desk so severely he has half a mind to warn him he'll develop scoliosis. Rossi is in his own office doing... whatever Rossi does. JJ and Emily's desks are empty, but they left a few minutes ago for Garcia's cave, and Derek slouches in his chair, fiddling with a pencil as if it'll do a trick. And you—

Your desk is empty.

"Hey, did you see (Your Name) come in yet?" He asks Derek, trying to keep his tone casual. Sometimes he gets caught up in his reading to notice the world around him. Maybe Derek saw you.

But he shrugs, twirling his chair around. "Nope. But don't worry, Reid. I'm sure (Your Name) will come in any minute now."

He sputters, "Worried? Pshhh—who said I was worried?"

Derek raises an eyebrow at him before spinning his chair again.

Perfectly normal. Nice. Spencer mentally pats himself on the back. He's probably right, he thinks, turning back to his own work. They've all been late to work before, and you're no exception. Granted, this is the latest you have ever been, but he won't judge you. Everyone has their reasons.

But a few minutes turn into half an hour, and half an hour turns into one, until eventually they're called into the conference room, quickly debriefed because the case is urgent. Hotch wants them on the plane yesterday.

Before he has the chance to even bring you up, Hotch calls to him, "Hey, Reid, (Your Name) isn't answering their phone. I want you to check on them. "

"But—"

"You have a key to their apartment right?"

"Well, yes—"

"Perfect. Don't worry about us, you can video call with Garcia," Finality in his tone, Hotch strides out of the room, following behind the others, who try to hide impish grins.

Spencer blinks owlishly, frozen in the empty conference room.

—

Should he be mad at his team for leaving him behind?

Yes.

Is he mad?

No.

If Spencer's being honest, any anger or annoyance he initially felt goes out the window, replaced with excitement as he carefully makes his way down the hall towards your apartment, like you'll burst through your door any second, guns blazing at an attacker or something. Anything's possible with you. Then he realizes—

He's at your apartment. Alone.

The thought nearly sends him hyperventilating.

He shakes his head, reminding himself he's been to your place before, that he's there to check on you and not, as Derek would say, "put the moves" on you. He is there out of concern for a colleague—a friend—so when he reaches your door, he meekly knocks, "(Your Name)? It's me."

No answer.

Frowning, he knocks again before letting himself in.

At least your apartment seems untouched. Appliances off, curtains drawn with windows locked shut, and your clothes strewn here and there (he cracks his neck looking away from your underwear atop a pile of laundry), but nothing warrants concern.

So, where the hell are you?

Padding down the hallway to your bedroom door, he softly knocks, calling you. Again, no reply, and worry bubbles in him as he enters your room.

Only for it to fizzle out when he sees a very you-shaped lump in the center of your bed.

Spencer's shoulders drop in relief. "(Your Name)."

The lump shifts slightly.

Well, that's something. Stepping over more clothes and your half open go-bag, he stands at your bedside and gently shakes you. "(Your Name), wake up."

Something between a gurgle and snarl. He shakes you harder.

"Mmm..." You peek out from under the blankets, bleary-eyed. You croak, "Reid?"

"Good morning," He says, smiling down at you.

Had this been any other day, his smile would have made your heart jump, make you squeal so loud your neighbors would complain, or send you spiraling into embarrassment because Spencer's here in your room. You must look like a mess and—shit—you haven't cleaned since god knows when.

But then your head throbs and you groan, ducking back under the sheets like a turtle. Fuck how messy everything must look.

"Are you okay? Your face is flushed," Spencer asks, voice muffled above you. You feel him tug at your blankets and you pull them tighter around you. Your cheeks burn.

"I'll be fine. Just go ahead without me, I'll meet you at work."

"The team already left."

Your eyes shoot open and you immediately sit up, "Wha—ack!" You clutch the side of your head, your vision swimming.

Spencer's already at your side as he rests a hand on your back, brow furrowed in concern. "Yeah, Hotch said you weren't answering your phone, so he sent me to check on you."

"But—"

Without thinking he presses the back of his hand to your forehead and his frown deepens, "You're burning up. Have you eaten yet?"

Your lips part in surprise, eyes heavy as you stare at Spencer. Touch never came easy to him, but his palm is a cool relief against your skin, and you hope the heat rising to your face is from the oncoming fever. "Uh no, I haven't."

"Okay, you lay back down while I update everyone," He says, stepping into the hall. "Then I'll make tea. How do you feel about peppermint?"

"Thanks, Reid, seriously, but I can do it myself," You say as you struggle to push off your blankets, the strength in your arms sapped out of you. The last thing you want is to trouble him.

But before you can set foot out of bed, Spencer repeats himself, his unusually stern voice making you freeze, "I said, lay down. I'll make tea, okay?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer, he shuts the door behind him, and you fall back into your pillows, scratching your head.

... Yep, the heat is definitely from the fever.

—

“I see. We'll be back in a few days, so there's no problem,” Hotch crackles through the phone.

“Allright."

“…Is there something else, Reid?”

"Ummm..."

"...You don't know how to set up for a video call, don't you." It's not a question.

"I do not, no."

"...Call Garcia. We'll talk soon."

"Thanks, Hotch."

"Of course. And Reid?"

"Yes?"

"Tell (Your Name) we hope they feel better soon."

"I will."

—

“Open your mouth.”

You purse your lips together, arms crossed as you meet his gaze with defiance.

Spencer holds the thermometer closer to your lips, “Seriously, (Your Name), open your mouth.”

You shake your head, turning away.

He squints at you, “Are you a child?”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Yes. Now open up, so I can take your temperature and diagnose you!”

“Doctor, my ass.‌ You can’t diagnose shit!” You hiss before hiding under your covers.

Counting down, Spencer huffs, slowly easing his death-grip on the thermometer.

He’s so glad he’s not a medical doctor.

—

“Where do you keep your medicine?” Spencer asks, looming at the threshold.

You avoid eye contact.

He guffaws, “You don't have any medicine?”

“I don’t get sick.”

“And you’d call this…?”

“Listen, this is just like when I get a soar throat or a stuffy nose—”

“Both of which you have.”

“It’ll pass!” You rasp, coughing into your sleeve. Spencer cringes. “Eventually."

Rolling his eyes, he steps into your bathroom, not bothering to ask for permission as he rifles through your medicine cabinet. Nothing. By the time he stumbles upon the single bottle of tylennol, he’s already gone through your hallway and kitchen cabinets. Sighing in relief because at least you own some medicine, he picks it up and checks the label.

It’s expired.

He chucks it into the trash bin.

—

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to make a corner for himself in your apartment, setting his old laptop on your kitchen counter (away from your laundry) with Penelope’s tech support. He’s down the hall from your room, far enough any noise he makes shouldn’t disturb you, but close enough he can still keep an eye on you. It’s the perfect spot.

“I was studying the crime scene photos, and I thought the symbol looked familiar, ” Spencer says, the case files laid out on the floor and on the counter. “I looked into it and they’re definitely ritualistic in nature—”

On the screen, the team nods in understanding as Spencer continues, following him and his hand gestures as closely as they can, until at some point in his info dump, he notices the team’s focus shift, their grim moods changing. Penelope's lips are barely suppressed into a smile, Emily’s fist covers her grin, Derek and JJ exchange knowing looks, while Hotch and Rossi smirk, trying to mask their own amusement.

“What’s so funny?”

The front door creeks. Spencer whirls around, and his heart drops, “(Your Name), what are you doing out of bed?”

So close. You flinch, shutting the door. “I’m going to work, obviously.”

“You’re sick.”

“No, you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. And I thought the medicine would’ve knocked you out by now.”

“Jokes on you, I’m resistant to most poisons!”

“It’s medicine; it’s supposed to help!” Spencer pinches his brow, sliding off the stool to herd you away from the door. He feels a headache coming on. “You know what? Nevermind, let’s just get you back to bed.”

You snort, gently batting his hands away, “I don’t need you to baby me.”

“I’m not babying you, I’m showing you I care,” He retorts as he ushers you back towards the bedroom.

Without either of you realizing, the team watches the entire scene unfold, hearts warming as their teammates bicker. And when Spencer returns, he notices the odd looks they give him.

“What?”

Penelope giggles, “You two fight like an old married couple.” Everyone collectively agrees.

Spencer pouts, ignoring their jests as he falls back into his rant, making them go back to work.

But for the first time in his life, he nearly squees.

—

"I know I haven't said it yet, but thank you for taking care of me, Reid," You sniff, wrapping the blankets closer to you as you lay in bed. Your bedside lamp bathes your room in a warm light, casting shadows and contouring the sides of your face. It's already late, but the teams called enough times that you know the case is a tough one, tougher without their best minds constantly present. You blink the sleep from your eyes. "I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll even do your paperwork for the rest of the week."

Spencer sets a fresh cup of tea on your bedside table before raising an eyebrow, "I'm pretty sure you snuck some of your paperwork into mine yesterday."

"...I don't recall."

He chuckles, sitting next to you, "It's okay, you don't owe me anything."

"But I do," Covering a yawn, you snuggle deeper into your blankets, "You're the biggest germaphobe I know, I doubt you wanted to be around me like this."

As you shift into a comfortable position, sleep finally catching up to you, Spencer's lips part to reply, but his throat closes as he realizes that for almost the entire time he was here, not once was he concerned of germs or contamination or dirt, at least not on himself.

His only concern was you.

After a pause, he mumbles, "I don't mind germs if they're from you." Blushing, he turns away, heartbeat in his ears as he holds his breath, waiting for you to respond. Or reject. Shit, he wants to keel over and die—

Snore.

His shoulders sag in relief. Carefully removing himself from your bed, he turns off the bedside lamp before placing a kiss at the top of your head, shutting the door quietly. His footsteps fade down the hall.

In the dark, you squeal into your pillow.

—

AN: Hi! Anyone else try to be more productive when they're sick?

As for my little absence, college was kicking my ass, and I needed to focus on career decisions and stuff. Now that I'm writing again, I started this as a warm up and ended up going over my word limit by a lot hehehe. Hopefully I finish Battle Tactics part 2 soon...

This was inspired partially by @spacedikut's Nurse Reid fic, if you couldn't tell by the title :D))

Hope you enjoyed!

—

Bonus Scene:

—

“A-choo!“

You hand him another tissue, wincing. ��Sorry.”

Voice throaty, Spencer dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand, “No, no I did this to myself, but I appreciate you coming to look after me, even though you’re all better now.”

“Of course I would. Besides,” You hand him a cup of tea this time, and he takes a sip, humming. You smirk, “I don’t mind germs if they’re from you.”

Spencer chokes on his tea.

[majinkura]

Jason Headcannons...

Well first off,besides the hydrocephalus Head,and possible blindness in his right eye,as we can see in the gif above,my mans got what looks like a curve in his spine,scoliosis....

(I got that too)

So,I think his chest cavity should have had a slight twist to it as well...but his rib cage seems to be even on both sides.

And I’m pretty sure he’d have pyronies disease,and sterile...I kind of have this headcannon for Vincent as well,both boys are very self conscious about that however....

EDIT - I forgot about Jason’s regeneration....so forget the peen thing,I’m big dumb.

(FUCK IT - he’s dead so WELCOME TO STERILITY!)

As for both Jason and Vincent talking - I imagine them both with speech impediments - similar to how deaf people talk.

Also,with Jason I like to imagine his mind being slightly normal,only being tricked by Ginny in canonverse because he saw his mother in her....I mean how else would he make all those traps he uses. In short - he smart.

Same for Vincent - they both share the same brain cell....

One last thing,in my story/comic thing - this Jason looks like the one from 7,but slowly heals to how he looks in 3,still has the undead strength,stamina,etc AND CAN RUN! (But Vincent’s still faster in that regard)

Savini Jason is like a powerup for him in my story,he can go into hell mode whenever he’s super pissed.

Oh And the underground tunnels exist from 2009......

[breanime]

Hey Bre! I’d love to see “Person A giving Person B a foot/hand/neck/back massage” with Nick Amaro please? I have lupus and really could go for a massage from Detective Amaro right now. This has been a flare from hell I swear.

I hope you’re feeling better, and if not, I hope this Nick story relieves at least some of the pain. :(

You had been working like crazy lately, barely having a moment to yourself, and you were beat. Your body couldn’t take any more; your muscles were sore, your bones were cracking, your joints were stiff… You could barely even get out of bed in the morning without groaning in pain, let alone run around at work and in the city.

Nick, you knew, wanted you to take some time off. You knew because he’d been asking you for the last two weeks to take some vacation time off. But there was still so much work to do, and you didn’t want to take off because you had a few little aches and pains…

But then the aches became anything more than “little”, and you had to admit it was too much to bear.

“I’m coming home early,” you grumbled into the phone, “My body feels like it’s been stomped on by a herd of elephants.”

“Oh, amor, I’m sorry,” Nick sighed on the other end, “How close are you?”

“About an hour,” you slumped in the back of the cab, “Traffic is crazy.” Your cabbie murmured something in the front, and you sighed. “Scratch that,” you amended, “Probably two… maybe three… Will you be able to get home on time today?”

“Uh…” You heard movement on the other end of the line, and pictured your man moving around his desk. “…Yeah, I think so. You want me to pick up something to eat? Or I could cook…”

“Whichever’s easier for you,” you answered, closing your eyes, “I just want to get into bed and melt.”

Nick made a sympathetic noise, and he talked to you a little while longer—asking if you wanted to book a massage and what meds you needed—before the two of you hung up.

Two and a half hours later, you slumped your way up your driveway. Sighing, your bones aching and feet feeling too big for your shoes, you opened the door and stepped inside to…

…your own private spa?

Nick was standing in the middle of the living room—except it wasn’t the living room. The couch and furniture had been moved to the back of the room, stacked up by the wall, and replaced by a massage bed. He was wearing a fluffy white robe that looked soft to the touch, and hopefully nothing underneath it.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed, coming over to you and helping you out of your shoes and coat, “You look like you’re in pain.”

“I am… What’s all this?”

“Private spa,” he answered, taking your shirt in his hands and pulling it off of you, “We’re gonna start with a full body massage and then move to face and hair masks,” he explained, kissing your forehead as he helped you out of your pants, “I ordered from our favorite restaurant, and we are not leaving this place until you’re feeling better.”

Nick was as good as his word: he gave you an amazing massage that had your toes curling. He laid you on your chest on the massage bed, covering you with a towel, before dripping warm, sweet smelling oil down your back, legs, and arms. He ran his strong hands all over you, rubbing the oil into your skin and pressing down on all of the knots and pains in your body. You moaned into your pillow, eyes closed and feeling your body relaxing more and more with every touch.

“Is this okay, mi amor?” Nick asked, his voice low and soft.

You opened an eye, peeking up at him. He’d closed the blinds and lit a few candles, and the whole room felt, smelled, and looked calm. “This is wonderful, thank you, Nick.”

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, his hands still working the muscles of your back. “No problem.” His hands were trailing lower, and you sighed happily when you felt them on your feet. “You gotta take better care of yourself, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you agreed, melting under his touch, “But this helps a lot…”

“Good,” his voice was near your ear now, and you sighed when he moved his attentions to your neck, “I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

You nodded, too comfortable to speak, and closed your eyes. You don’t know how long Nick massaged you, working on your back, neck, feet, hands, and head, but by the time he was done, your entire body felt loose and warm. Nick led you to the bath, getting in behind you, and washed your hair while kissing on your neck. After the back was dinner, and then your favorite movie as you laid your head on Nick’s shoulder. You ended up falling asleep, and when you woke up, you were treated to breakfast in bed.

Your body felt 100 times better, and a few weeks later, when Nick came home grumpy and achy, you knew exactly what he needed…

“Welcome home, baby,” you greeted him once he walked through the door, “Are you ready for a Spa Day?”

*******************************************************************************************

Writing this made my scoliosis hurt, no lie. Thanks for reading!

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[sachertortes]

DARCY AND STEVE HARRINGTON OMG!!! 😍😍😍 College themed #9 with the spider or ridiculous first sentence #4 with the demons Our Steve love is on the level and I appreciate you.

@ragwitch YAAAS STEVE HARRINGTON! I had way too much fun writing this, and I hope you have fun, too!! You are wonderful

Prompt: #4, Ridiculous first sentences, “that is the tenth demon summoning this week holy shit!”

Pairing: Steve Harrington (Stranger Things) x Darcy

Rating: T, for language

Notes: Spoilers for Season 2 of Stranger Things.

Steve Harrington’s Five Rules of Babysitting

1. SAFETY FIRST

Fine. Okay.

So he knows he shouldn’t be one to talk about safety when he let a bunch of kids drive then go exploring in what was basically a creepy tunnel in a field, but in his defense he’d been knocked out by some dickweed with a shitty mullet and was sort of loopy at the time.

But.

Safety first. Always.

Keep all doors and windows locked at all times.

Don’t let the kids choke on anything because maybe you don’t know CPR and you only know the Heimlich from the diagram you’ve glanced at while waiting for your order at the Dairy Queen.

Know where your weapons are.

(Example:

There’s a rifle is in the closet.

The box of bullets is on the highest shelf in the kitchen.

The kitchen drawer is full of knives.

Eleven is playing Connect Four with Max.

And…

“Lucas!” Steve bellows over his shoulder. “DON’T TOUCH THE DAMN BAT.”)

2. KEEP THE LITTLE SHITS OCCUPIED

Slightly related to Rule Number One, because if they’re playing their dorky boardgames, they aren’t out on their bikes trying to find interdimensional slugs to keep as pets.

When they get tired of boardgames (or when everyone gets tired of Max and Mike screaming at each other about whether a “Zoomer” is a thing), pop a movie into the VCR.

(Suggested Movies -

Ghostbusters (naturally)

Raiders of the Lost Ark (but tell the kids to cover their eyes when Indy does)

Star Wars

Movies That Do Not Go Over Well -

Alien

Firestarter

Howard the Duck)

3. A BALANCED MEAL IS IMPORTANT

“Listen, kid, you gotta eat something other than Eggos. You’ll get scoliosis.”

“Scurvy,” supplies Will.

“Whatever. Scurvy.”

4. KNOW YOUR EMERGENCY CONTACTS

In an emergency CALL:

911  

The Parents  

Joyce Byers.

Seriously, one time he saw Joyce look at some kid who called Will “Zombie Boy” with such cold, murderous rage that the kid apologized and ran away.

Joyce doesn’t fuck around.

Call.  Joyce.

5. NO VISITORS/OUTSIDERS

Listen. They’ve all seen some shit. They’ve been through a lot.

Like, a lot.

So their little circle is now them, Ms. Byers, the Sheriff and the doc from the lab. No one else could possibly know the shit they’ve been through. Hell, no one else would possibly believe them and it’s just easier to stick to their own small band of weirdos.

Makes it easier to keep an eye on them, too.

Outsiders are suspicious. After what Nancy and Jonathan told him, outsiders could be wearing wires and the next thing you know you’re held against you will in (another) government facility wondering if you’ll ever see daylight again.

So when there’s a knock at the door and Steve opens it to find a short brunette girl - a stranger, he’s understandably suspicious. She is not coming inside.

No way.

“You’re the babysitter?!” she laughs, eyebrows hiked up and hand on one hip.

Yeah. She is not allowed inside.

No matter how cute. No matter how shiny her cherry red lip gloss. She’s not coming in.

“Darcy!!” exclaims Dustin from behind him. “This is my cousin Darcy. Come in!”

Well, shit.

“Kiddo, your mom wants you home soon. And thanks for letting me in finally.” Darcy turns to him and rolls her eyes. “I thought you were gonna make me stand out there with the creepy noises forever.”

Fuck. His heart is doing some bizarre thing where it sinks and speeds up at the same time.

He should’ve known it wasn’t over, shit like this is never over.

Then just as suddenly he’s angry and tired.

Can he please make it to graduation without ending up in a body bag? Is that too much to ask?

“This is like, the tenth demon summoning this week holy shit,” Darcy declares, shrugging off her acid wash jean jacket and shoving it at him. She goes over to the couch, where Lucas hesitantly slides over a bit to let her sit.

He blinks, still holding the jacket. (It smells faintly like Love’s Baby Soft). “Wait. What?”

“…What.”

“You said demon summoning.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You thought those were demons?”

Lucas stops the movie. Everyone waits with bated breath.

“Well, yeah. At first, I called Fish and Wildlife and they said they were coyotes, but like, I actually saw one and have you ever seen a coyote with that many teeth? So. Small town plus weirdo animals plus that Department of Energy thing equals demon summoning. I saw it on Phil Donahue. Totally demons. Right?” She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear and eyes him expectantly.

He throws her jacket over an arm chair then motions for her to follow him to the kitchen. “Not..not quite. This is gonna sound crazy but you thought those were demons so…”

When Darcy promises not to laugh at them and call up the loony bin, Steve takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his hair. “Okay, so I guess it started with – “

Dustin walks in clutching a bag of Cheetos. “Ohh! Steve are you tellin’ her about the demodogs? Hey, everyone, we’re tellin’ Darce about the demodogs!!”

“Jesus Christ.”

STEVE HARRINGTON’S UNOFFICIAL SIXTH RULE OF BABYSITTING: TEAMWORK

Two adults (and he and Darcy are adults, damn it, they’re the only ones who can legally drive) are better than one, especially to corral six kids.

Ms. Byers and the Sheriff are on a capital D Date even if they insisted they weren’t. (Why go to Hawkins’ one Italian restaurant with actual table cloths if you weren’t on a date?).

And with a tiny pang in his chest that had really been getting tinier by the day, he notes that Nancy and Jonathan are hanging out together, too. (Probably riding around town together, listening to the sad wailings of British guys in black overcoats.)

Teamwork makes it easier to deal with the noises outside the house. The noises that are getting closer, softly clicking, chittering.

Mike and Lucas slide the sofa so it blocks the front door, and everyone else pulls the blinds down.

“This is my life now,” Darcy says, in disbelief and resignation as she pulls out the box of bullets from the kitchen cabinet.

She slams it on the counter, and the old toaster rattles a little.

“I’m sorry,” says Steve. “But I’ve been through this before. We’ll get through it again,” he promises.

Darcy takes a deep breath.

“Listen, I can’t even believe I’m doing this, but this is a very stressful situation,” she murmurs. She turns to him and presses her body along his front while the Byers’ plastic laminate counters dig into his back.

And oh wait, he can feel it, that…electricity, it’s like the air around is humming, colors sharper.

“I’m gonna need you to do a Thing, okay? Because you’re cute and y’know your hair is kinda cool – “

“Thanks,” he says, unable to help his smile. The hair. Always gets ‘em.

“Shut up, Steve, and just kiss me!” she hisses at him, pulling him towards her with two fistfuls of his Members Only jacket.

“Okay, yeah,” he manages to get out before he slants his mouth over hers and his entire world is alight with fireworks

He jolts when their lips finally meet. It’s clumsy at first, their teeth bumping together. But Darcy’s lips are silky and slippery with gloss. Her tongue slides over his insistently and she tastes faintly like grape BubbleYum. His hands are sliding just a little bit under that soft, pink sweater of hers and this is usually the part where the girl tells him to cool it but she doesn’t - her hands are tangled in his hair, nails grazing his scalp.

He cups her jaw, and he feels like he’ll vibrate right out of his own skin.

She pulls away with a smack. “Wow. Good kissing, babysitter.”

Her breath comes in quick pants when it fans across his face and when he looks at her she gives him a tiny lopsided smile.

“Seriously?!” a voice exclaims from behind them, high and outraged. “My cousin??!”

Darcy rolls her eyes and gently pushes Steve away. “What is it, Dustin.”

Dustin turns to him with a narrowed gaze. “You’ve got,” he gestures his hand vaguely over his mouth, “like all over you, man.” He shakes his head, mildly disgusted.

Steve runs the back of his hand over his lips and says, “Where are we on those-”

Something outside screeches warningly and the hairs on his arms stand on end. He grips his baseball bat tighter. He looks to his right and there’s a hard glint in Darcy’s eyes as she loads the rifle.

“Ready?” he asks her.

She turns to him and gives him a sharp nod. “Ready.”

They go to join everyone in the living room.

They wait.

They wait some more, with only the harsh puffs of their panicked breathing and the sound of the crickets outside.

“Are they…coming?” Darcy asks, shakily, after five agonizing minutes have passed.

“They’ll be here,” he says.

“They’re not…they’re not coming,” El says softly from behind him. Her voice is doing that slightly scary thing where it sounds too high and too far away.

“They went back?” Lucas asks.

“No. She means it’s not them,” Will says haltingly, scrunching his face.

“Well, what is it?!” demands Max, face flushed with annoyance. She begins striding to the door.

“Oh no you don’t.” Steve reaches down and yanks her back by her jacket collar.

“I’ll go,” offers Darcy and before he can forbid that, she’s crouching by the window and looking outside.

“Shit!” Darcy screams, and he’s over by her side in a second, his bat in position. But when he looks at her, she’s…smiling?

She pulls the curtain aside for him.

On the front porch, one of the tiny ragged things hisses at him, glaring at him with two shiny black eyes and he bursts out laughing, pure relief washing over him

“Possums!” he calls over his shoulder. “Just possums!”

Everyone groans.

He’s never been so glad to see those oversized rats ever in his life.

Afterwards, when the little assholes have mostly finished ragging on him for making them barricade the house against rodents, they put the couch back and sag onto various surfaces in the living room in front of the TV.

“God, that sucked. I need coffee,” Darcy grumps while she stomps to the kitchen. “And food.” She puts her hair up in a messy ponytail and begins rifling through the Byers’ pantry, setting a bag of flour and sugar on the counter.

She bends over to rummage through the fridge next and wow. God bless Jordache.

When she turns she’s got a carton of milk in one hand and is holding a box of eggs with the other.

“You guys like waffles, don’t you?”

El, by his side, is smiling up at him hopefully.

He sighs tiredly, makes his way to Darcy and takes the eggs from her hands. “Yeah. I’ll help.”

See?

Teamwork.

[kriskonfesses]

Just a little change... 1/1

20 (give or take) years. That, my friends, is how long it takes for a bunch of scientists to discover the genetic issues that cause a disease and for a treatment of any kind for the disease to be released (other than just treating it symptomatically). Well, in my case. My entire life can be summed up in a similar number of years. My mom always told me that they had pinpointed the exact chromosome that was malfunctioning in people with SMA right before I was diagnosed.  Now, I finally get to do something about it. So, here I’ll keep my progress of the treatment I’ve been panicking/searching/drooling over for the past four months. A little more than a year ago Spinraza, the first ever gene therapy for SMA, was FDA approved and tomorrow I get my go at it. December 2016 I’m sitting on the bed in the guest room of my dad’s new house. It’s the day after Christmas and I have a sore throat (that eventually ended up in the ICU, save that for a later date). I’m flipping through posts on facebook when I came across a peculiar post on a rare piece of magic... well, sorta. It may be science but it seemed miraculously exciting. A drug called Spinraza which would stop the progression of my disease and was very expensive. That was of all I knew and all I wanted to know at the moment. I called each person in the house to the room one at a time and told them and none of them seemed very cheerful about it. I couldn’t understand why no one felt the way I thought I should feel. And they had a point. It wasn’t a cure. It’s almost a million dollar treatment. It’s done every four months for forever. There is no promise to gain strength. It’s a needle going into your spine. I could go on... And for us, we didn’t know much about the result, but I always held hope a little in the back of my head. I gave up and decided to wait. I heard insurance was hell to get through. Yet, my muscles have gotten weaker... My already painfull major depression just made everything suck, everything sucked. It had been sucking since my pneumonia. Nothing would change what has happened to me, but my mindset needed the change. That's when I realized I had stopped seeing my therapist since pneumonia and I really needed one. I called her back up and the results were amazing. My panic attacks have literally gone from twice a day to once a week. Then, I got the other important thing that helps with depression: Meds? No, sun. I took a cruise. I felt so relaxed and away from my troubles and it was great. I know I seem a little off track right now but stick with me here for a sec. Around this time I got an invite to a Facebook group about Spinraza. I started seeing all these wonderful stories about babies and toddlers. They were breathing without the need for support, crawling, sitting up, and walking on their own. The joy of knowing that these kids would never have to grow up going through the trials I had to was priceless. Nowhere near as many hospital visits, no missing learning important things in school like tying your shoes because you had PT, no difficult special ed bus drivers, no missing field trips or field days.The families would save some pain in the process, too. Maybe this would prevent some siblings from having to go to therapy. Maybe it would even save some marriages. I know having children with disabilities can be a heavy load for parents to carry. Although I know my own parents had their unrelated reasons for divorce, it still stung to think that my disease didn’t help the matter.  While reading and wading through emotional stories, I learned children weren’t the only ones noticing changes, even though these changes in adults were never promised. I heard stories of people who could lift a cup or open a lid. These things may seem minuscule to the vast majority of people, but they can be huge to those who have no way to care for themselves. You don’t ever understand fully until you have to ask others to do everything for you. I heard people were talking clearer. It has always been a fear of mine to lose the ability to speak clearly as it is the only form of control I really have. Just the thought of not having to lose my voice or my already weak ability to pick things up is exciting. And honestly, that right there is the reasoning behind getting this treatment. So I started. My very first step is to research as much as I possibly could. Learning about the procedure, the side effects, and the expectations is very important. I read thousands of comments and questions on the Facebook page and read as much on the official website as I could. I didn’t want to go in and be blinded by complications, so I tried to find a way out of all the problems before I even started the process. Unfortunately, for a person with panic disorder this severe, this caused a lot of stressing about things I never should have had to worry about, to begin with. I also learned every situation is vastly different. When I came across a person in the same state with the same insurance I have, who kept getting denied, I instantly thought I would be in the exact same situation. Turns out I was wrong and I spent a month worrying about it. I can always be counted on to overthink things. My next hurdle revolved around the location of the treatment. While Austin isn’t behind the times when it comes to medical facilities, it is nowhere near the largest or most medically advanced cities in Texas (Texas has 3 of the 10 largest cities in the country in it and Austin certainly isn’t one of them, even though it is the capital). Since at the time Spinraza hadn’t even been out for even a year and the cost was such a large risk, very few places were willing to administer the drug. I pretty much had two options, Dallas and Houston. I looked into Houston and found a place but they wouldn’t take my insurance (aka Government insurance) because of something called “Buy & Bill”, which pretty much means my insurance agrees to cover it as long as the hospital pays for it initially and then gets reimbursed. Obviously, it isn’t the ideal situation. Someone said that university hospitals tend to agree to “Buy & Bill” more often and one of the doctors I was told to look into was at the University of Texas Southwestern in Dallas. When I finally scheduled I had to wait about a month until my appointment. I brought the partially filled out Start form with me and was prepared to start with no idea what the wait time was. I had heard people waiting anywhere from seven months to a year. I got assigned my Family Access Manager about two weeks later. He came out for a meeting and went over everything. Most of this I had already known from my tedious research. He told me that it was my job to be proactive. Implanting myself like a thorn in the side of the doctor's office I fought for speedy results and proved myself a worthy self-advocate. After a couple of months, I received one of those annoying insurance calls where a machine says something to the effect of “blah blah blah your request for a nonformulary prescription has been approved blah blah blah.” I was having a lot of insurance issues at the time, but the call eventually said “if you’d like to know the name of the prescription press 1″ and that is how I found out I was approved for Spinraza. There were still things to do before I could schedule. I had heard something called a Hammersmith test was required to be done by a PT to get approved, but I had been approved without it. Similarly, a CT scan was required to find an opening. The procedure is called a Lumbar Puncture. It is a process of injecting a needle between the vertebrae of the spine to pierce the neural foramen, withdraw 5cc of spinal fluid, and inject 5cc of Nusinersen, or Spinraza. Commonly people with SMA suffer from Scoliosis and require rods to be put in to straighten the spine. When this is done bone grafts are put in to help keep the spinal rods in place. This is a problem because the spaces between the vertebrae are covered by bone grafts leaving no way to directly access the neural foramen. There are multiple ways around this. They can go into the cervical spine (the neck), which is above the rods, but that can be dangerous as there are many important nerves and it is dangerously close to the Spinal cord. They can add a window. This means they perform surgery and cut a small square of bone out of the way. But, all surgeries have risks like infection or respiratory issues related to the chronic lung problems associated with SMA. Choosing the correct fix truly depends on the patient. While I called multiple times to schedule a CT scan, I was finally told that all of that would be handled the day of the first injection. The last thing to do was schedule my first procedure and prepare to make the long journey to Dallas. I don’t know what my results will be and I certainly won’t stop until I try. To be continued... Written 1/10-1/13

[mirajens]

dr. catch

paring: jellal/erza rating: t  chapter 3 of the rockabye series found on ff.n

Jellal and Erza meet in the most romantic of places: the physical therapy ward

"There he is, Erza. What did I tell you? Isn't he absolutely delicious?" 

 When Erza heard Mirajane's excited whisper, she looked up from her magazine and followed where her friend's finger shamelessly pointed at a new arrival.

At six months pregnant, it was twice as easy to get Mirajane thrilled about everything. Erza supposed it was because Mira was bored since she started her shifts manning the reception of the physical therapy ward. Before her temporary post as a desk rider, Mirajane had a reputation for handling the therapy of athletes twice her size, so Erza could understand how dull her new job seemed compared to it. This morning, when Erza came in with Natsu for his session, Mirajane started the usual gossip mill off by regaling the adventures of a handsome man who would come in sometime during clinic hours and take his shirt off during his session, rendering her brain dead for a whole hour. Erza supposed it was an exaggeration. This man was supposed to be a family friend so Mirajane bestowed upon herself the right to appreciate without malicious intent, despite being happily married.

The physical therapy ward was not family run but it might as well have been. Mirajane's brother, Elfman, and her husband, Laxus, were therapists in the same practice. Her sister-in-law, Evergreen, was a nurse. Their head orthopedic was her grandfather-in-law. Details like that made Erza confident in leaving her 10 year old in their hands. Natsu didn't grow up with his father but he knew the importance of family. It was one of the many things that made Erza proud of him.

Erza took Mirajane's pointing finger and shoved it down before the man could see. While agreeably delicious, he might not do well to know he was a spectacle. Erza hoped she was subtle while she took in his blue hair and the distinctive tattoo on the left side of his face. The man removed his windbreaker and stomped the snow from the soles of his boots.

"It sure is a mess outside. The snow must be a foot deep by now." He said as greeting when he finally got to the reception area.

"Good morning, Jellal. I hope the drive wasn't too much trouble. Freed is ready for you on the fourth bed."

"Great. Thanks, Mira." Jellal handed his health card over and left, but not before smiling kindly at Erza.

"What a dish, am I right? He was totally making eyes at you, Erza. I saw." Mirajane said in a miserable attempt at keeping her voice down once Jellal joined his therapist.

When Mirajane got like this (that is, in Erza's opinion, hysterical and delusional), Erza knew she had to pump the brakes before Mira could set her up on another blind date from Hell.

"Do you think your husband can hear you calling another man 'delicious'? Or maybe your future child is witnessing what a flirt her mother is?"

"Jellal is delicious. Visually, I mean. I don't think Laxus minds. They're college buddies."

"I doubt it works like that."

"Wait, shh. You'll miss it! This is the best part!" Suddenly, Mirajane grabbed Erza's forearm in an alarming grip.

Erza watched as Freed lead Jellal to the TENS station. Jellal took his shirt off before taking a seat.

"Beautiful, isn't it? He's receiving treatment for just his arm but he always takes his shirt off even when he doesn't have to. No one tells him because they know I would murder them in their sleep." Mirajane pretended to wipe at a tear. "It's a work of art. My pregnancy goes so well because I am privy to this miracle every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. He has the most impressive cum gutters. I mean, aside from Laxus'. Jellal's is a close second."

"You're gross." Erza finally said when she couldn't think of any other way to convey her sentiment without betraying her awe and agreement.

"Sure, Erza. Let's just pretend your eyes didn't bug out of their sockets when you saw his shoulders flex." Mirajane waited a beat before continuing. "His name is Jellal Fernandes. Very single. Like, it's baffling how no one is hitching a ride on that caboose. He'll be forty, this June. And did I mention he's a doctor? A really fancy one that travels. He worked for some scholars last year, which is how he got in an accident. I know it's about bugs or something. It's probably rude, but I can't remember much about him when he's on display like that."

Erza laughed. "I'll take your word for it. But don't even think about setting me up again, Mira. I'm serious. Not after Hibiki. You lost all your Well-Meaning Friend credit after that."

Mirajane pouted but she knew when she was defeated. "Your loss. He's a catch. With a doctorate. He's like, Dr. Catch." When Erza only shook her head in amusement, Mirajane sighed and began inputting Jellal's insurance information into the computer.

There wasn't much to do while Erza waited for her son's therapy to be over. If it wasn't mind-numbing Candy Crush on her phone, it was gossip with Mira, and that dried up much quicker today than Erza expected.

Jellal finished up with physio much than Natsu did. He gave Erza another smile when he approached the reception desk to check out.

"Mira said she'll be back soon. She wanted to buy snacks." Erza offered when Jellal saw the station unmanned.

"Oh, right. That's fine, thanks."

An easy silence passed between them but Erza never liked silences. Maybe she wasn't used to them. "You know you don't have to take your shirt off, right?"

"I don't?" Jellal asked, a brow cocked.

"Not really. You just looked uncomfortable so I thought I'd say."

"Ah, yeah. It's really cold in here. I guess that's why some of the older patients were snickering."

"And here I thought you were just showing off." Erza joked before she could catch herself.

"Hm. Got you to look, didn't I?"

Erza laughed. She normally didn't buy into cheesy flirtation but Dr. Catch had a natural skill for it. Emphasis on the cheesy. "I'd be blushing if you weren't already doing it."

He probably wasn't. But now he did. Erza almost laughed again.

"I'm Erza. I don't normally stand in for the receptionist."

"Jellal. I don't normally take my shirt off for no reason."

Erza grinned, fast and wide. "So what are you in for? Mirajane said it was about your arm."

"Ah. I fell on it when we were spelunking." He looked embarrassed for a while. "I find spiders for a living. Usually in caves or forests. So this isn't really my first rodeo."

Erza couldn't help the shudder. Anything with more than four legs needed to keep at least a ten foot radius from her. Thankfully, Jellal only smiled.

"Not a fan of the creepy-crawlies, I see."

"I'm sorry. I can't trust spiders after that one time in college."

"That's cryptic, but understandable. How about you, though? Do you come here often?"

Erza was spared having to answer when Natsu barreled into her side. "Mmmmmmmom, I'm done!"

Erza felt the wind knocked out of her. Her son started talking too fast, too loud, and she missed half of what he was saying. She held onto key words: Ice cream, Gray and new ball. She was about to tell Natsu to speak slower when he suddenly gasped and pointed a finger at Jellal. Erza felt the punch of Deja vu when she instinctively pushed his hand down.

"IS THAT A SAILOR MERCURY SHIRT!" Natsu's question felt more like an exclamation. An accusation. Erza thought to herself, at least it's the tshirt.

She was twice as relieved when Jellal only grinned. "Yes, she's my favorite. My sister has one, too, but of Luna."

"I like Sailor Mars better. Lucy likes Sailor Moon because she's blonde and has a cat, too. Lucy's cat is named Loke. Do you like cats? Did you watch Sailor Stars already because Lucy can't get a copy of it yet and I don't want to hear any spoilers so don't get any ideas! And your tattoo is neat, is it real? Sometimes Gray draws on my face and-"

"Ok, you definitely don't need ice cream." Erza said, carding her fingers through his already sweaty hair. "How is your back now?"

"Achey. Can I nap until dinner? But I have to call Lucy first and tell her about Sailor Stars because she said to remind her to ask her dad again. Then I have to ask her about homework because I forgot to write it down. But after that can I nap?"

"Yes. Go get your bag and say thank you to Laxus."

Natsu ran off, screaming, "GOODBYE SAILOR MERCURY MAN". Erza laughed again because Jellal looked stunned.

"It's like watching F1 racing, huh? It's too quick to know what's happening until it's over." Her eyes followed the blur of pink scooping up his back pack while yelling inane updates to Laxus. "My son, Natsu. He's twelve, so that's twelve years of me being perpetually exhausted."

"I think that's the first time a child asked about my shirt before the facial tattoo. He seems like a good kid. I generally like anyone who compliments this shirt."

"He's rowdy, but sweet. He has scoliosis and does all these sports. It makes me nervous but as long as he's happy and not pushing himself."

By the door of the PT ward, Natsu, with his jacket zipped up to his chin and his bag strapped to his shoulders, yelled for his mother to hurry up. Erza smiled apologetically at Jellal. "That's the midnight clock. I'll see you around?"

"Yes, absolutely. It was nice meeting you and Natsu." Jellal's hands twitched by his side. She had such lovely hair he caught himself wanting to touch it. Mortified, he stuffed his fists into his windbreaker pockets. "Drive safe."

When Erza finally left with Natsu, Jellal walked up to Laxus, who was just cleaning up after his session. Jellal plopped down on the newly sterilized bed, ignoring the thinning of Laxus' lips. "Man. I just flirted with a married woman. And I almost touched her hair without permission. Like I was in a trance. I want to die. Can you recommend any other hospitals nearby that offers PT on my insurance?"

Laxus crossed his arms. Jellal almost made a joke about the extra 20 seconds Laxus took to grasp his words. "Erza Scarlet? You flirted with her?"

Scarlet. God, even her last name was perfect. "Your comprehension skills are still sharp as ever, Laxus."

Already tart and sour, Laxus looked downright done now. "Thanks, asshole. She's not married, though."

Jellal's brows knit together. "You pulling my leg or something?"

"I only pull legs when my occupation calls for it."

"Oh, haha. Laxus made a funny."

"She's not married. Divorced, I think. Mira told me. They're close." It wasn't rare that Laxus gave Jellal his classic side-eye, but it had been long since Jellal saw it in person. "If you stay around long enough, Lisanna's birthday is in two weeks. Mira's throwing a party. Erza's invited."

"And?"

"And?" Laxus echoed incredulously. "Jesus. 'You really want me to spell it out for you? Come to the party, ask her out. Are you sixteen years old?"

"Since when are you allowed to invite people for your sister-in-law?"

"Since your balls shriveled up and fell off, apparently. Go away. I have to work. Talk to Mira about the party. "

Jellal did just that. Laxus was unbearable when he was grumpy, which would be 80% of the time he was alive. Jellal went back by the reception area to wait for Mira to give his card back. And maybe ask her about that party Erza was going to be at.

[seksipomminpurkaja]

1-11 for harlei and 12-22 for pietro?

Sorry for the super super late response i was out making an impression with the goodspeed skooter and it was s ridicilous my friend had to stop me, so i dropped by her place and whoops i was there for three hours without noticing. im so sorry

The albino pirate

What is their worst fear? Her loved ones (parents, friends, ninida) dying or otherwise go through horrible traumaDoes your OC have a temper? She tries to keep it at bay, but can’t deny she has a temper, she’s still mentally growing upReligious beliefs? She’s not a strong believer in anything inhuman, though she does sometimes wonder if there is something beyond there, somewhere…Height? 165cmWeight? 73kg, she’s quite muscularWhat is something that they really regret? Not telling her parents sooner what she really is doing to earn all that money, so they’d have more time to swallow it down before she never sees them againSomething they’re proud of? The name she made for herself and her crew, pretty much out of nowhere, first no one knew who the hell K’oor and Hazel are, now, those names have passed once or twice in the underground as the captain of Valac and it’s chief engineerWhat is something they really hate? Being blackmailed, c’mon dude, she trusted you to keep your word, not sell hers forward, now she has two messes to deal withNow something they really love? Sex, every adrenaline rush she can get, be it flying too close to law enforcers or hang out in shady bars and alleysHow does your OC react when they’re embarrassed? She will do anything to deny whatever she just did, get defensive and just trying to move on an brush it offBirthday! Sometime in winter

Mute insecure

Are they a morning person or a night owl? A really, really night owlIs there anything you would have changed about your OC? His hairstyle many, many times, once he was what would later become Alez, and they were once the same character but then i threw all the shit at PietroIf you could compare your OC to an animal what would that be? He’d be a striped field mouse, little, quiet, hard to notice and first though uselessGive me a description of their family Abusive mom who did not like how her kids was growing and having trouble learning basic life skills, so she threw him out. His father, he has no idea he even has a sonAre they good with technology? They’re excellent, he’s build a dosen of cyborgs, and even more prosthetics, he’s a mechanical geniousDescribe some of their hobbies! Doodling robots, circuits, anythingDescribe their sleeping habits Bad, he doesn’t even have a proper bed, he sleeps when he absolutely has to, and only to be awakened by rats roaming over him or Frans bursting inWhat are some of their strengths He’s intelligent, creative, friendly, when you have patience enough to get that close to himWhat are some of their weaknesses He gets frustrated easily, poor people skills, some mind find him too odd, without not knowing what he had to go throughDo they suffer any mental disorders? (PTSD/Depression etc) He has depression, anxiety, paranoia, social anxiety, and i think i created an autistic character without even realizing now that i’ve read the ‘how to make an autistic character’ and i noticed many similarities Do they have any physical impairments (Blind/Deaf/Loss of a limb) He is mute, which increases his already hard time communicating, he knows how to write, but was overly happy Frans and Lola learned sign language just for him, i’m thinking about a mild scoliosis for him too (he shall remain my punching bag)