#i’m fine tho. i will learn in my own time.

[dykeseinfeld]

AGH the world if i became a classicist!!!!!!!!!! i’d be too powerful!!! if this is how far i’ve gotten on my own can you imagine!!!!!

[bitebitekxll]

Do they purr - genshin non-humans

៚ Zhongli ✧ Xiao ✧ Wanderer ✧ Albedo ✧ Venti

Notes: Holy hell how do I have 50 followers??? THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR SUPPORTING MY SILLY MUSINGS. This literally was just my way to learn how to write smut and post self-indulgent head canons but I’m glad people are enjoying this with me :DDDD

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 ᥫ᭡

Yes, 100%. He will deny it every time but lay on this man’s chest, maybe press a kiss to his jaw, and his chest is going like a fucking engine. He will insist that it’s not a purr, it’s simply a content growl— or perhaps a rumble, at most. He isn’t some measly cat, after all, he is a mighty dragon, the Prime Adeptus—

It’s definitely a purr.

Get him a cat ear hairband. He will give you the most long-suffering, unamused look while he wears them, but he will wear them. Anything for his beloved ♡~

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 ᥫ᭡

No, unfortunately. You have found no evidence that your stone-faced Yaksha is capable of emitting a purr, or purr-like sound (though certainly not for lacking of trying).

However… there is the matter of whether he is able to trill or coo like a bird, given that is his true nature.

He gets annoyed when you ask him, adamant that is not something he can do, and how dare you even entertain such a notion. Have you no respect for the adepti? Hmph.

…but you swear you’ve heard him chirp when you catch him off guard: kissing him without warning or praising him unabashedly.

It seems this will require further investigation.

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀 ᥫ᭡

Not purring, but whirring!! Got this idea from @seabirdtxt ‘s Glitch in Irminsul fic (it’s SAGAU focused on the diff vers of scara existing at the same time, go read it it’s great) and it just makes so much sense to me.

As a mechanical puppet, and an advanced one at that, Scara has tons of machinery going on inside of him. Though it usually can’t be heard, if you get especially close to his chest— a privilege only reserved for you and maybe Nahida during hugs —you can hear the whirring and clicking of his moving parts inside. It doesn’t sound the same as a purr, not exactly, but it’s pretty damn close.

Most of the time it’s pretty faint, but sometimes Scara might just make it louder— it’s got nothing to do with the way your face lights up or how you smile when you hear it, don’t be stupid.

Of course, the only way he can make the noise louder is by overworking his system, making the parts inside move faster than they’re supposed to. If he does it too much or for too long, well…

You’ll know it’s time to lecture him on taking better care of himself when he starts burning up. Overheating is the first sign he’s about to overload his system and shut down (or from everyone else’s perspective: pass out).

You’re the only one who can make him stupid enough to be willing to break his own mechanisms just to see that adorable ridiculous expression on your face. (He might come back to his senses in a petulant huff if you start calling him a cat, tho)

𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎 ᥫ᭡

Sadly, purring is not a feature homunculi come with. But this is Albedo we’re talking about, he can definitely figure it out.

He won’t tell you just what idea you’ve sparked with your question— you always worry when he starts self-experimenting —but it’ll be fine! He takes all the necessary precautions, limits any risk, because there’s always some risk in life, and downs a concoction or two in his quest to see if he can change the makeup of his own body. As an artificial life form, he’s less delicate than an organic one, so he doesn’t need to worry about pesky issues like rearranging his (non-existent) organs in a fatal manner.

And it works! Well, sort of. You come back home to a boyfriend that is fully capable of purring!! And also!! Has, uh, cat ears…

Albedo would consider it a success— he accomplished his goal, even if there were a few side effects. And you get a pretty catboy equipped with the cute, twitching ears and a fuzzy blonde tail; everybody wins! ♡

Of course, there’s always the chance his experiment just turns him into a cat entirely… but it wears off after a day or so, so it’s not the worst thing Albedo’s done to himself.

Either way, congratulations, he can now purr for the next 24 hours. And regardless of his cat-to-boy ratio, he will be expecting pets. Get to it~

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 ᥫ᭡

He has bird vocalisations! Except he’s worse at hiding it then Xiao may or may not be. It’s not outright chirping, but it is a cooing trill in the back of his throat, too vibrational to be a regular hum.

It’s the sound he makes when he’s perfectly content, laying in a warm patch of sun on the soft grass, sat atop a roof with alcohol warming his veins, and curled up in your arms, round cheek smushed against your chest. He takes in a deep breath, filling his lungs with your scent, and then releasing it in a sigh, accompanied by the musical tones of his little trill.

He makes shorter ones when he’s pleasantly surprised; when you unexpectedly toss him an apple or pat his head. He’ll grin or lean into the touch and make that sound in his throat. Too quiet to be heard by the people around you over the din of the town, but you’ll hear it. It’s a sound just for you ♡

[anifever]

omggg I love ur Lottie!reader hc’s! Could you do one where the reader acts like Tiana? A super independent, great cook and no-nonsense gal with good humor is someone I think the whole gang would rlly love

Gang w/ a Tiana!Reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The Outsiders x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : Curtis gang with a reader who’s like Tiana from ‘Princess and the Frog’

A/N : Why does my theme mess up when I do requests kms. Once again, sorry if these are a bit short <\3 I have so many other requests I’m working on so bare with me

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🐸 ˚₊‧⁺˖

Darry

୨ IMO, he’d be the best choice for someone with that personality to be paired with

୨ The gang is terrified of pissing either of you off

୨ My ongoing hc/scenario of him = throwing flour at each other whilst cooking together continues to hold up

୨ He thinks you’re the perfect mix of sweet with a bit of sour

୨ If you have a little restaurant, etc; he’s always gloating about it

୨ He’s honestly a little shy about it like one of his coworkers asks abt you during a lunch break and he’s just like “Well….🤭🤭🤭”

୨ You guys both share your parents recipes with each other

୨ He’s the one who’s always cooking for his brothers/the guys, so it’s helpful when he gets a bigger range of things to make

୨ Also helpful that you offer to cook with him or just do it yourself sometimes

୨ He gets pretty worried when he notices you overworking yourself (ironic.)

୨ You both try to help each other through it and take some burdens off one another’s shoulders

୨ You’re both super independent; power couple

Two-Bit

୨ You love to cook, he loves to eat

୨ You’re his saving grace

୨ You also match his sense of humor which makes you the full package in his eyes

୨ He can’t compliment you without you brushing him off and he hates it LMAO

୨ He just wants to butter you up but you’re so humble

୨ Then again, he gets all shy when you start sweet-talking him back

୨ You spoil him with food constantly

୨ “Baby, you’re an amazing cook ‘n all, but I’m gainin’ a bit of a belly-” then you just shut him up by stuffing his mouth with more food

୨ You don’t gaf about his weight you just like coddling your funny lil’ handsome guy

୨ Like I said, he cannot stop complimenting you, like it’s impossible for him

୨ He thinks you’re perfect and feels the need to constantly rub it in other people’s faces that they don’t have someone like you

୨ Like he bagged a woman who can cook, is funny, nice, gorgeous, and stays humble about all of it????

୨ It will forever be his greatest achievement

Steve

୨ You keep him in check

୨ He can be such a smartass sometimes but he learned not to mess around with you fast

୨ Just sits and watches you cook sometimes because he’s so mesmerized by it

୨ He debates on stealing ads for your restaurant he sees around town since he’s so proud of you but then he decides it’s probably bad to lower your promo

୨ He says “There’s my favorite chef 😋” with the dumbest grin on his face whenever he sees you after a while of being apart

୨ If anyone dares to say something bad about you or your food, etc- his ass is NOT having it

୨ His smart-ness comes in handy in cases like that

୨ Like I said, you can handle your own and he’s lowkey giggling and kicking his feet on the inside whenever he gets to witness it

୨ He’s like yes!!!! That’s my girl!!! 😣😣

୨ Borderline moans when he tastes something new of yours and you can’t tell if he’s playing it up or being serious

Dallas

୨ You walk him like a dog I’m crying

୨ You’re really kind most of the time, but he loves that you’re also able to handle yourself

୨ Like going to Buck’s together and some guy is being weird, he thinks he’ll have to step in but you handle it just fine on your own

୨ He wanted you to have his children after that.

୨ Anyways, you’re also really caring over him

୨ Not to mention super loyal which he’s not used to

୨ You always clean him up after fights (not without scolding him tho)

୨ Once again, if you own a place yourself or at least work somewhere, he’s always showing up out of the blue

୨ He reluctantly agrees to be on his best behavior when he visits

୨ That being said, when he hangs out with Pony and Johnny, he’s always bringing them there for food

୨ He tries to flirt with you whilst you’re on-job and you do not have any of it

Soda

୨ He’s always ready to be a taste-tester whenever you try a new recipe

୨ He’s just so supportive I’m sobbing I love him

୨ You pack him lil’ sweets for him to snack on during his shifts at the DX

୨ He watches you passionately talk about cooking/your job with hearts in his eyes

୨ Whenever girls come into the the DX to flirt with him, he takes the chance to promote your business/the place you work LMAOO

୨ He worries a bunch when you start working more than normal

୨ He tries to get you to take breaks but then you’re like “?? You do the same thing with your job” and he’s just like “Ah.. well, you got me there.”

୨ Realistically though, he gets where you’re coming from about “the only way to get what you want is through hard work” and relates to it

୨ That still doesn’t stop him from pouting when you seem more tired than usual when you take longer shifts, etc

୨ You start helping him and his brothers out financially once you start making more money

୨ He cries.

Johnny

୨ You try to help him with his confidence since you’ve got a lot of it yourself

୨ You make him feel secure

୨ You’re also a pretty big inspiration for him

୨ He doesn’t eat great considering his living conditions other than when he goes over to the Curtis’, so he’s basically getting full course meals when he’s with you

୨ You encourage him to get multiple helpings/take a few bites before the food’s done but then scold the other guys when they try to LMAO

୨ “Oh, so Johnny can eat it early but not us??”

୨ “What- was I supposed to let him STARVE?!?! 🙄”

୨ You care about him so much and always make sure he’s away from his parents as much as possible

୨ You’re aware he can also handle himself the same way you can, but you’re still protective over him nonetheless

୨ You have confronted his mom before and desperately tried to keep your usual down-to-earth and kind demeanor, but it didn’t work. At all.

୨ You and Two-Bit are one in the same when it comes to that woman

Pony

୨ He is SCARFING your food down

୨ I’m dead it’ll be gone so fast, he can’t help it

୨ Loves that you’re so headstrong since he’s the same way

୨ Anyways, imagine he brings home a small box filled with something you made him from school & Steve’s like “Where’d you get that from?? 🤨” and he gets all smug about it

୨ He refuses to let him have even the smallest bite

୨ You get along really easy with everyone and he loves that about you

୨ You’re always sticking up for him if he’s getting made fun of at school, on the street, etc

୨ It makes his lil’ heart hammer in his chest

୨ He visits you during your waitressing shifts

୨ Like he studies and does homework up at the counter while you work and he takes glances up at you every now and then AHHHHH

୨ He also probably does yours for you depending on how busy you are

୨ You repay him with food on the house though 😊

୨ Darry’s always asking him where he’s been and he’s like “… the diner in town…🧍” and he’s still suspicious but he’s just glad he’s not getting into trouble

[court-jobi]

Phantom Spasms | Headcanons

Pro-Hero!MHA x Reader: Kirishima, Midoriya, Tamaki, Shinsou, Bakugou

Words: 3.8k

Prompt:

A telltale quiver wracks your body every now and then. Trembling: like a ghost which holds its wrenching fingers in wait to play piano on your nerves and muscles- attacking your body without warning or mercy. Once upon a time, those unsettling sensations would have been the sign of a flare-up or overextention… but now, phantom spasms merely unlock memories of pains seen and unseen. How will your hero best soothe your aches?

Warnings: desc. of injury/ body aches, language (because BK exists) HURT/COMFORT/FLUFF assorted

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

A/N: Still working through some fun asks, but here's some headcanons since it's been a minute~ show weeks are crazy for me (my theatre kids get it) Happy Halloween and Happy Booping, yall!

--Eijiro Kirishima

The first time you jumped out of your skin at work due to someone's hand landing on your back, Sero simply figured you spooked easily from behind. You made a joke right away to his teases. Then another time, you pinned whoever it was to the wall, when it happened to poor unsuspecting Mina at a party. You apologized and everyone laughed the overreaction off- sweet ‘Pinky’ included. 

But it wasn’t till it happened a third time at night -in your kitchen- with your own sweet-spirited Kirishima, that he finally became the one to learn what the reason behind your jerks stems from.

You were a little down in the face, getting some ice cream when he sleepily trudged out of bed for some water– and to find his sweetheart who’d left him cold and lonely. He found you up and tracing the bottom of your dish with your spoon, and made to come behind you with a hand to your waist– when you gasped. Flinching hard and snacking him with a grab– to root him to the spot and rear up to hit your attacker-

"OW- babe, it's just me!!" 

Your eyes widened and back stayed arched until you kind of stuttered and rubbed it with your free hand. Your gaze fell away to Kirishima’s arm- with stinging tears and guilt. You’d drop the scoop carelessly on the counter and regulate your breaths, all in hopes this could be perceived as another nervous-nelly reaction and not sign of what this actually is… something worse. 

"I-I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, baby-" Kiri carefully raised a hand to brush your face into a sweet caress. Like magic, his touch soothes and your back finally eased up and let you sigh.

"No. I'm sorry. God, did I hurt you?" you straightened and rubbed at his arm yourself.

"Nah, it's fine, manly hit tho, babe!" He brushed it off until his laugh died seeing your eyes. "Hey. You ok? Is... something wrong with your back?" Kirishima smooths your hoodie’s folds back over your shoulders and down your arms to casually hold your waist."You were... rubbing it, just now."

"...happens more than I let on..." you sighed a little dejected. "Old injury, just - spasms- sometimes, when someone comes from behind me and I didnt notice." 

Kirishima’s gears worked together through the drowsiness,, "so... when Mina?"

"Yeah."

"And when Sero came in the-"

"Not as bad, but yeah," you nodded.

"Oh God, babyyyy," he lifted you and rubbed the outsides of your thighs when he sat you on the counter, shifting the ice cream remnants aside and caressing your low back. "Why didn't you say anything? I never would have teased you like that! Damn, I give you surprise hugs all the time..."

"It's not all the time!" you tried to assure him. "I usually hear you or know it's coming, and it's nice. It's really nice." 

A fond smile brings you to run a hand through his floppy hair. 

"I.... it actually feels better when I know it's you at my back. It feels... safe, y’know?"

He hummed and lifted his brows, raising his hands to your cheeks and giving you a sweet kiss. 

"Then consider me your personal koala, angel. I've got your back." The reassurance would touch you at its sweetness– till you see that he glanced down to your cleavage. "And your front, too."

"Oh hush, Kiri."

He laughed at the far more tame slap at his chest and tickled your sides to get you to join in. Once calmed down, you hugged Kirishima tight from your spot on the counter and so did he- now taking careful, soothing rubs on your back. 

"I love you so much, baby. Tell me anytime it hurts from now on, ok?"

-- Izuku Midoriya

It was in training at Grounds A when it began storming outside, so you figured you’d stay a little longer and not fight the bad weather on the roads. If nothing else, it gives you extra time to watch him practice his new and improved shoot style. With the new suit came a learning curve, so Izuku practically lived on campus nowadays, long after his classes were over. Before he could take to the streets, he’d need to learn how to work as a hero again, merging his physical disciplines with the new tech he now wears to protect himself. 

Happy to spend any break with him and support him on his hero track, you came anytime Izuku called and asked for you to take notes. He’d call out how high he guesses he can reach, and you’d yell the actual figure back as soon as he landed; as a game of sorts to see how far he could go. 

Izuku shouted one simultaneously with a thunder crack and while you did answer, it sounded faint. He looked back through sweaty bangs and he noticed you kind of spoke it downwards to the ground- and you were rubbing at your back with an awkward reach.

"You ok?" Izuku called– you looked up suddenly and smiled to mask the quivering sensation as it died down.

"Yeah, I'm good! Go again!"

A few more rounds passed and in between kicks, the thunder cracked again. Even Izuku cringed at the sight out the window, seeing how nasty it was getting. The passing worry over ‘Kacchan’ being out in this drek came through a mutter when he bounded back to your side with a solid thud on the ground, looking to you for perhaps some reassurance– 

– at least he was seeking you out, until he realized he was the one who needed to attend to you. Izuku’s eyes went wide and he rushed to your side with a higher-pitched call of your name.

Shoulders held uncomfortably straight, you were half slumped on the railing, trying to regulate your breaths. 

Izuku huffed over to your side in a second, the flash of electric teal ebbing through his suit's grooves catching your eyes as he worried in front of you. 

"I'm really fine," you rasped, "it happens’a lot– more annoying than anything." You chuckled as it eased up and allowed you to carefully kneel to a sit. Izuku crouches by you too, easing you down slowly.

"Honey, that's not normal! What's happened? Are you ok?? " 

He is quick to start mother-henning you, cupping your cheeks… and you had to smile.

"It’s just a phantom pain," you twisted and pointed at the back "Not even really ‘painful’ anymore, even- just.. strange. Like, have you ever had a bad dream that something's poking you in the back, but nothing’s really there?"

He sweated through that strange scenario, "Uhhhhh, no? I've never had that before..."

"Well, it’s a thing. The doctor checked me out," you brushed off all the same. "Just the thunder spooked me, and it acted up. Loud noises make me jump., and everything siezes."

Izuku is still hard to settle, so you give him the speed-read through what happened to you. A rookie mistake of pushing yourself beyond your limits when you were young resulted in a (potentially) life-long bout with strengthening your core, keeping good posture… years have been spent working around the scar tissue under the surface as best as you can manage.

"Scar tissue?"

"Yeah, right... here." 

You thumbed at the spot of your tremors, 

"Surgery took care of it. There's not even a bad incision- it just..--”

-a low rumble shook the sky-

“- teases, sometimes. Under the surface."

"Oh," Izuku mumbled, noting you seemed embarrassed, “So it’s like a missing limb? Amputees will say that, I hear. Aizawa has before, too, after what he did with his leg...”

Thinking back to a darker time, you’d felt the same of yourself… when you worried whether or not you’d walk again. It has been so scary, feeling that there should have been horrible pins and debris sticking out of you with how your nerves twisted and pinched all around the site of your wound. As much as you wish it wouldn't, sometimes it feels like yesterday that you were laid up in the hospital for endless scans and tests for weeks on end.

Simply put, you agree so as to not worry him more: “In a way, yes.”

"-But it’s not hurting you?"

"Not... ‘hurt’ exactly, just feels kinda queasy."

Izuku’s powers of observation can read as overwhelming, though right now, you think it’s sweet how he’s taking in every inch of you to memory. He's running through a thousand and one solutions- you know the signs.

He got an idea. 

"Hey, well, let me rinse off and we can stay in and watch a show until this storm lets up! That way, you won’t be alone! And I'll sit at your back... I can rub it, if it helps?" His ears got a little pink as he rambled through, but you smiled up at his eyes sweetly. 

"That'd be nice~"

-- Tamaki Amajiki

Tamaki laid curled up in his favorite spot on your chest: his long-sleeved hand rests tucked into himself while he nuzzles into your neck. It’s his favorite spot since he could hear you and feel all of you so well, but you didn't have to see his face.

He admittedly had fallen asleep there, even though a storm had started. Poor baby can sleep through almost anything as long as you're still enough (as his pillow).

But today? When your jump underneath him roused him, he suddenly went self conscious,

"mmmmmAHHH, s-sorry, I didnt- I... hey, what are..."

A moment’s delay, Tamaki noticed your pained expression as you let out shallow breaths. 

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you??"

"No, honey, no, you’re... ahh... yer’fine...." you tried to press your tummy back down and nuzzle back into bed. You were clearly preoccupied and not able to fully focus on resolving his quivering self as quickly as you normally would. 

"Y-you’re shaking..." Bridging up on an elbow off of you, Tamaki sounded concerned and a little more commanding. He could be very protective once he knew there wasn't a risk of embarrassing himself, "Tell me what hurts, love."

He laid on his side and regarded every twitch of your face as you glanced his way. For all his shrinking into himself and generally submissive nature, no one stands in your corner like Tamaki Amajiki. Now with your roles of confidence reversed, you felt ashamed not telling him sooner.

"It's just... my low back." You turned to face him, thumbing it, and he instantly touched the spot, your skin jumping at contact but settling as he palmed it. "It acts up sometimes... old injury and all."

"Do I need to take you to the nurse?"

"Oh no," you brushed off, "there's nothing she'd do anyway- it's supposed to go away on its own." Then another thunderclap brought it on again, and he tightened onto you again.

His little face dropped, feeling horrible that you were suffering all this time. After your initial recovery, physical therapies, even taking you to and from your yoga classes, Tamaki had foolishly assumed you’d made a full recovery without an ounce of lingering trouble.

 "I can't believe I didn't see this before. God, I'm a terrible boyfriend…" he mumbled into your shoulder, holding on for comfort as he tucked you under his arm so your back laid mostly on the bed again and he shielded you from on top. You cooed at his self deprivation and just petted through his hair.

"Tama-honey,” you tapped his chin to look up at you, "you're the best boyfriend I could- ever- wish for.”

And it's not a lie- never a lie when it comes to him. Had he only been in your life during your recovery from that pesky broken leg back in your teens, you're sure you would have bounced back ten times faster.

You're here now," you sunk adorably under him to make him feel bigger, "why would I ever feel anything but completely safe with you?"

His little lip quivered into a smile and he leaned to kiss your nose and cheek to which you sighed at both touches happily. "What should I do? To help, I mean?"

You keen a little at this caring attention. You rarely told him to do anything due to his fawning -and already skittishy- nature that simply wanted to be held and adored when in your company… but with how gentle he's being, this opening makes you answer him honestly. What's so wrong about giving him a reason to please you?

"Back rubs are nice~”

When you turn over gingerly and he starts to pet along your back, you wiggle your hips a touch.

“You can go under, hon. I won’t break, promi-”

“U-UNNDER?!” 

You giggle into the pillow. Simple back scratches will have to do for your shy darling.

-- Hitoshi Shinsou

You haven't noticed much pain since you were in the hospital, post-accident. The meds they gave you were gold, and just about knocked you out within fifteen minutes of a dose. Truly all you’d wanted was to go home and ride out your recovery, but everyone on staff urged you to take the PT seriously, as it would help you in the long run. Your chief cheerleader -and drill sergeant- was none other than your partner in both heroics and love, Shinsou.

Once settled in your second story apartment, you really hedged against leaving to brave the stairs unless absolutely necessary. But even when you needed to for an appointment, Hitoshi was there, taking you by the hand to support you step by step. There to help you shower, there to help you dress until you could proudly manage on your own. But even then, you claimed you relied on his witty banter more than anything else… He’s strong in every sense of the word, and stoic where you need him to be, even now off duty. You missed heading out to fight crime with him, but ‘all in good time, sweetness’ was his anthem during your six week long ‘house arrest’.

Being home was such a happy change of pace from the white hallways of the triage floor; you were actually eager to tackle the monotony of chores again. Shinsou had encouraged you to rest, but didn’t fuss or demand it when you went piddling around the apartment. It wasn’t until you were putting dishes away that you had your first, huge flare-up.

You couldn’t even call it pain- just the most intense muscle spasm and queasiness you've ever felt that shook you from your low back up your spine. The sensation honestly scared you. The mug in question immediately retreated to the counter and you stumbled beside the fridge -balancing on the counter- your breaths fast and short as the tremors vibrated in you, 

"Hi–Hitoshi?!" You called weakly, trying not to panic.

He was there in a matter of seconds; he’d already heard the crash and was on his way to investigate. You heard him curse lightly before coming up beside and behind you, lowering your arms from their mismatched hold on whatever cabinet handles you could grab and placed both palms on the counter, 

"Let go," he prompted, and you obeyed without any coercion. When you held onto the flat surface, he took your waist in his hands to steady you. "Don't tense- breathe through it, deep breaths."

"What's happening…?" you can’t turn to look, even though you wanted to.

"It's in your back, right here?" Shinsou laid a warm palm on the queasy area, and you whimpered an affirmation. "You're ok, sweetheart. It’ll pass- it's just a spasm. It'll pass... just breathe."

You forced yourself an inhale that’s not as slow as you know he’d prefer, but Shinsou doesn’t correct you. Here he stands, rubbing your back with two expert fingers and his thumb over the bundle of nerves where your initial surgery had been. It seemed to help because breathing got easier. 

"That's it,” He whispered close to your ear, closing his eyes to pray. "You're doing good." He kissed a few spots on your shoulder as you relaxed as the minute wore on, him rubbing your back and you sinking away from the counter as your back bowed back from its arch.

"Oh my God...." you breathed.

"Better?"

You nodded. He looked up and saw the open pantry and let out a little breath. He kept a hand on your waist and put the mug up himself.

"You know things like this are why I'm here. Don't push yourself."

You soured at that, "I should be able to reach things in my own kitchen..."

"You will- just not right now." Shinsou said firmly, but in a tone that softened at the end whenever he was with you. You turned your back to the counter,

"Thanks," you breathed out, rubbing up his arm. "That was... really wierd. And kinda scary."

"The same happens in my neck from time to time. Not so much anymore. It will fade after a couple months." 

You exasperated at the sound of that time frame. Shinsou had suffered a bout of whiplash after a villain sting earlier that year, and you remembered his more subtle shudders and shivers indicating his nerves were getting back to standard operating procedure. That neurological progress took nearly half the year, just as he said.

But Shinsou knows your brand of impatience all too well. He lifted your chin to his gaze, more concern than scolding, 

"-which is why you need to take your recovery seriously. I know you wanna bounce back fast; I can help you get there. You know what to do. We want to avoid these as much as we can."

You nodded, but your chest still sunk. You know more practically that you couldn’t bother him every time it happened, yet you now fear what would happen now if he hadn't been here. He’s only off night duty for another week, so after this weekend, you’ll be managing life solo, more or less… 

But despite any lingering discomfort showing on your face, Shinsou would do anything to see it go away. He pressed a kiss to the soft edge of your eyeline and leaned his forehead to yours, rubbing your back comfortably in his hold- making your hands naturally hold back on his arms to make him stay. He brought you gaze back up, 

"Hey sunshine..." 

You opened your eyes to see his small smile. Makes him look all the more sleepy, but it’s such a soft sight, you’re happy to see it all the same.

"Do you trust me?"

You smiled back a little brighter. "I do."

"Then you should let me help you when you need it. I'm counting on you to tell me when that is. Promise?"

"I promise." You closed your eyes, just soaking in his presence. "I just want to be normal, babe."

He nuzzled noses with you, "Normal is subjective. You're healing, and that's nothing to be ashamed of."

You had to smile at his logical reasoning– takes after his mentor. So you nodded and asked if you could turn in and start up a bath, even if it was a little early in the day.

He massaged the soft skin by your ear and responded, "of course, love. Whatever you want."

--Katsuki Bakugo

You had rare help in the kitchen most days at this hour, since Bakugou was still on some personal leave from his agency (a forced break from his pr specialist who's placed him in time-out from the public eye). Given the availability he now has should be regarded as a gift, he was there to readily help you and no doubt distract you with kisses while you worked. His teasing has carried on throughout the afternoon as he cleaned up behind you, and was working on washing up the last few dishes when you were getting out a stockpot for dinner.

Crouching a little too fast to reach it on the low shelf, the shooting queasiness had your back bowing, and breath expelling out of your lungs in a gasp not unlike ‘fear’. You flopped almost immediately to your butt and pivoted with your back to the cabinet as you let out an uncontrollable moan.

At the sound of a hushed 'ughhh not again' in your first language, Bakugo peeked from the other end of the island and couldn’t find you at first… so he leaned off to the side and found your crunched body on the floor.

With a loud curse, he dropped everything and rushed to your side, 

"What the hell happened??" Bakugou’s hands went everywhere, from your hands to your shoulder, scanning your legs and your tense face for signs of a cut or a bruise you could have made this quickly.

"Babe, I'm fine, this is normal f’me."

"THE FUCK YOU’RE FINE– you're on the DAMN FLOOR!" He went to pull you up bridal style but you stopped him suddenly,

"No, no don't!! It's just gotta pass first…"

His eyes went wide and felt panic creep down his back. Bakugou flopped criss-crossed on the floor, and ran a hand through his hair- all that’s left was to watch you helplessly, which was the last thing he wanted to do in this moment. Surely he could do something. The waiting made him angrier than ever for a split second, until he reigned in some breaths himself. Eventually, the blond just reached a hand out to rub your knee. What else was he supposed to do?

You sensed your boyfriend’s now silent concern, and sent a little weak smile his way as it started ebbing away, 

"It's already better. My back just seized up sometimes, it's just an old injury that acts up every now and again. I usually don't do ‘squatty’ movements like that- things that tax it,” -you wink a little playfully- “Rookie mistake~”

Bakugou nodded, yet just stared at your core as it leveled back to normal.

"Sorry about that. Getting older sure doesn’t help these things~" You breathed out as you sat up normally-- only to have Bakugou launch at you fast and grip you to him–

You yelped at his sudden reach but brought a hand to his back– strange, that you think you might need to soothe him instead with how hard he’s breathing– 

"Katsuki?"

"Don't scare me like that again, dummy," he croaked out, nuzzling his face into the warmth of your neck and cradling your head to him in the dearest way.

Really, you should know better by this point. He can be battered and bruised beyond recognition and won’t pay a bit of attention to himself… but when you get so much as a paper cut or a wasp’s sting, and he will nearly go ballistic to tend to you.

[musicalmoritz]

Good Femslash Fics Already Exist

With the whole push for more femslash in fandoms, I’ve never understood the amount of hate I see femslash “fans” direct towards existing creations. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more variety, I do too, but every time someone brings up the fact that femslash fan fictions are already being written someone opens their mouth to say “yeah but those suck.” And then they proceed to read 300+ atrociously mischaracterized mlm fics. They complain abt plotless fluff and then read the exact same pwp scenarios over and over again

And hey, if you don’t want to read femslash that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend it interests you. I’m someone who actively looks for femslash and my only problem has been a lack of content in smaller/male-dominated fandoms, the fics themselves are cute af. Ya’ll are missing out on some real masterpieces by labeling all existing femslash fics as “boring,” some of my favorite fics ever are femslash. If an mlm ship invades the tags just filter it out, filter out every mlm pairing in the fandom if you have to. AO3 gives us that option for a reason

I’m not saying we don’t need more variety, but we’re not going to get that by shitting on writers who actively put in the work to make more femslash. When I started writing femslash consistently it was very discouraging because I’d seen soooooo many people online saying they want more femslash fics, yet nobody was reading mine. Then I looked at the stats on other femslash fics and they were the same, really great fics were barely getting any hits or kudos. It kinda sucks knowing that an mlm fic I wrote in 3 hours got more kudos than a wlw fic I spent months on (for pairings of relatively equal popularity). This seems to be the biggest roadblock for people wanting to write femslash, no one supports it. Even tho fandoms claim they would support it, they never do. It’s something I’ve learned to stop caring about but not every writer is gonna push through

This brings me back to a comment I saw about “boring, hair-braidy wlw fics.” That description really stood out to me, and to this day it makes me feel a little self-conscious about my old femslash fics that were “boring” and “hair-braidy.” But then I came across a fic for this one pairing that had actual hair-braiding. It was incredibly well-written and meaningful, exploring how both characters struggled to ask for help but they were able to recognize each other’s dilemmas and help in subtle ways. They did this, of course, by fixing each other’s hair when they both felt helpless to do anything with it. Such a simple way to express a very deep bond. This made me reassess the way people talk about femslash fics, and the way I’d been thinking of them myself. Is fluff really that much of a crime?? Do all cottagecore-type fics really have no substance?? Do femslash fics have to copy exactly what slash fics are doing, or are they allowed to have their own tropes??

My attitude towards the overload of plotless fluff wlw fics is “this is a good starting point.” We need more people writing femslash, more variety in what is written, but that doesn’t mean what we have is bad. I critique wlw fic tropes a lot but I always give the disclaimer that I actually love the fics themselves, I just want to see more of a different thing. And I comment on every femslash fic I read (every fic I read in general but especially femslash), I try to leave something thoughtful to let the writer know I appreciate the effort they put into their work. You’d be surprised how many writers said they were encouraged to update a fic or write more femslash because of a positive comment I left them. Engaging with fics will give you more of a good thing. It has so much more influence than that video you’re about to make talking about how there’s no good femslash fics. When you say things like that it actually discourages people from writing, and makes them feel bad about things they’ve already written. Support femslash writers guys, it’s sexy

[vaguely-concerned]

I wanted to write out a more condensed version of the Garashir thoughts I accumulated through my read of a stitch in time, because it really is driving me slightly nuts. so here we go!

I think my basic takeaway is something like: if you look at what's actually on the page as dialogue and not just the story garak tells himself internally of what has happened between them (which is basically 'I've fucked up somehow and I don't know how or why but something's broken here and I messed it up; I have nothing left of interest to offer him', pretty clearly going over it in his head like he would trying to figure out what he did wrong when tain locked him in a closet as a child), you kind of get the feeling that julian doesn't know what to do with the way garak flinches away from him whenever he tries to get closer or offer help. (which like. not for nothing but that's actually the dynamic between garak and mila too, but with garak's role switched to the mostly-resigned seeker of contact rather than the flincher-away. we all know garak’s daddy issues but I think the mommy issues at work are doing some gulf stream shit under the surface as well lol.) so julian starts hesitating in seeking out contact in the first place, nevermind asking him for anything more when garak's also clearly falling apart mentally and seems unreachable in the first place. and Julian also doesn't want to mess this up and make something already fraught and painful even worse; he still wants to help! he always wants to help, that’s just who he is, he keeps trying through the whole book. and when garak mostly-gently but reflexively and firmly rebuffs him each time he tries… after a while it seems like he doesn't think he's welcome, or that he's imposing and garak doesn't really want him there — that he's just humoring him or something when he does let him in, just like garak was so afraid palandine was doing with him in the beginning. it’s only in the final scene between them that garak invites him in and asks for help on his own initiative. 

“I’m pleased you stopped by”/”No, you’re not,” he said quietly. ‘I really won’t take up any more of your time’. “You see, this is so difficult, Garak. I know what a private person you are, and how you detest people meddling in your affairs….”. “Your holosuite program. The one that allows me to visit the traumas of my childhood.”/“I hesitate to suggest this, remembering how you reacted the last time … but, yes, I feel it could make a difference,” the Doctor gamely admitted. (Julian I love you so much. Eternal optimist hours. Keep it up it’s going to get you spectacularly laid if you just get on that shuttle to Cardassia.) All these moments do not read to me as someone who has no interest in continuing or deepening this relationship (maybe the opposite, in fact), it gives me more the sense of someone who feels he keeps putting his foot in his mouth and making the damage worse no matter what he tries, and not knowing what else to do but to back off to save them both more pain. (he also needs help and support, but he’s not going to go ask it of someone who’s clearly in no position to give it (on account of visibly falling apart even more than usual). And also because the good doctor is such a hypocrite lol ‘of course you’re worth asking for and receiving help!! I’m just fine tho don’t worry about me *light is slowly dying in his eyes behind the smile as the seasons go on*’. Stiff upper lip to the point of psychological breakdown-off (cross-cultural, competitive))  

and the most painful thing to me is that after their disastrous tea party in garak’s shop, at the very least, garak clearly realizes he's hurting julian by keeping him out (But as to the question of which group suffers the most…), and he desperately wants to stop hurting him but he just doesn't know how!!! he's never learned how to close the distance! he's been locked completely into himself by the way tain shaped him and doesn't know how to get out of the closet so to speak yet! ('...am I not. *supposed* to pretend to be functional and have no needs. is that not like. my entire job interpersonally. I am confused.') it’s something Tolan already observes in him and grieves over when he comes home from Bamarren, and the years since have uh not helped with that particular problem lol. for all he longs for it, intimacy is like a hot stove to him; he can’t help but reach out, and he can’t help but flinch away when he actually comes into contact with it. almost the worst part is that I think Julian can tell some of that too and sort of understands it/doesn't hold it against him, and it just makes it even sadder, somehow. they both move so carefully around each other through this, because even in the middle of all that they really do try to be kind to each other the best they know how and it fucks me up so bad. which makes it even crazier and more touching that all of asit is basically garak processing his shit until he can get to the last line honestly — 'You're always welcome, Doctor'. he pulled a full lizardly mr darcy in the post-apocalypse here, he got around to starting to fix himself at least partly to be in a place where he could be able to meet Julian in the ways he needs if he wants that from him. And that drives me utterly insane thanks for asking!!! WILD BOOK COMPLETELY UNHINGED 300+ PAGE DECLARATION OF LOVE AND INTIMACY WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL

(this post started life as a tag ramble under @spocks-kaathyra‘s wonderful post about Julian’s side of it over here, but — as I’m sure you'll be astonished to learn at this point — I found I somehow had even more things to say, my neurons boileth over perpetually and it seems I just have to live with that)

[kissitbttr]

I LOOOOOVE ur frat Miguel au but I gotta know. Where is Miguel getting his money from tho, cuz he’s got money to spoil his cheerleader? Is it from his dad like the comics? Or something else?

so glad you like it bby!!

and yes, of course! that man is rich rich lmao but he doesn’t exactly tell a lot of people about that. maybe beck but that’s only because he trusts the guy with his life already.

i can see miguel being the richest of all of em, his parents like to send him 3k-5k for his monthly allowance and he uses that shit to buy booze and greens for the party along with… gym wears or new football gears (typical)

miguel never really thought about getting a job to earn his money. because what for? his parents already back him up with that. sure he’s ridiculously smart, that guy could probably get five jobs offer during his third semester but he figured he could use his spare time with other stuff. party and football.

even when he was dating dana and xina he would take them to somewhere more cheaper. nothing extra or something. never been the one who initiate dates anyways unless they the one who wanted to

howeverrr when you came into his life, it’s all 180 and now he wanted to do better. to become better

he started to applied for jobs regarding tech or auto repair shops. saving up so he could take you to an expensive restaurant or a date to an aquarium (you’ve been eyeing at the penguin and dolphin plushy so he’s planning to get you both)

multitasking between double jobs, gym, college and football definitely not easy, but he’d do anything for you. and you don’t even have to ask. even if you protested, miguel just wouldn’t listen

‘miggy, you don’t have to do this. i do not want to see you get exhausted. i’m fine working with what we got’

‘i want to, princesa. just let me take care of you. don’t stress it. if italian is what you want then italian is what you get’

‘you know i’m good if we just settle with picnic by the park?’

‘I don’t actually. so, margherita and tortellini en brodo for two sounds good?’

he leaves no room for a debate after that. and your heart actually swells at his love language. is this how it feels to finally be taken care of? to be loved? sometimes you wonder if he’s even real,

miguel loves working now. because that means he’s doing it for you. he loves seeing the smile on your face, it gives him pride.

so when his dad asks him about why he wanted his allowances to be stopped completely, miguel just shrugs nonchalantly and replies,

‘gotta learn to earn my own someday when i marry my girlfriend’

his dad didn’t know his son had a girl

[crazylittlejester]

*kicks down the door, which now has a large dent in it*

Oops.

Since you asked me, I was wondering if you had a specific headcanon you would like to yap about? 🙃

YIPPEE!! Taking this as my opportunity to yap about my headcanons for Time and him being autistic

(my bad for weird spelling errors my phone is glitching)

- I don’t think he understands social cues very well, and this also ties into how I think he’s just oblivious to how fatherly he comes off. He’s very direct and to the point and he says what he means, which doesn’t mean he can’t ever be sarcastic or understand sarcasm, but there’s a difference between saying “oh nooOOOooo my swoOOOrd. I’m DEVASTATED 🙄” and “Oh no. My sword. I’m devastated 😐”. He gets the more obvious sarcasm but the shit that sounds flat and to the point goes right over his head because he doesn’t get why the FUCK you’d say something like that if you didn’t mean it?? He says what he means, and is just very genuine most of the time. He doesn’t see the point in not caring for the people he cares about, and the others all have such bad daddy issues they’re like “okay so he’s my dad now” and Time is just OBLIVIOUS

- Not very good with words at all because he’s terrified people are going to misinterpret what he’s said, so The Shoulder Pat and The Side Hug are his main go to’s for comforting others

- I think he gets overstimulated very easily, noise cancelling headphones would be life saving for him. I headcanon he twitches quite a lot because over the years he’s learned to make his reactions to Bad Noises smaller. He can’t NOT react when the pot is scraped across the kitchen counter, but he’s not full on flinching and covering his ears immediately on a day where he HAS the energy to mask

- Chopping wood has become a good way for him to blow off steam when he gets frustrated and also he likes the sound it makes

- Would definitely stim by rocking back and forth or side to side, or just rolling his head around to “stretch”

- Doesn’t have great control over the tone in his voice when he’s around a lot of people and masking, it comes off as incredibly flat and it gives people the false impression that he’s very down to business and strict. Similarly he doesn’t have the best control of his facial expressions, and a lot of the time he’ll just look like 😐 even though he’s genuinely having the time of his life

- Very sensitive to Textures, that’s why he got to wear his own shit in the war of era and not any kind of ‘uniform’ or army assigned anything that would’ve made him look less like a civilian. Shockingly tho the texture of tree bark is completely fine and when he was younger he’d literally just go run his fingers across the trees as he passed them. Now he probably has a small piece of bark in his pocket

- This one doesn’t really have anything to do with him being autistic but he’s absolutely had to go take a break off in the woods when he’s gotten overstimulated and then come back with a little deer trailing behind him. It’s absolutely a forest spirit in disguise

[giveemcoffeekid]

Orion’s Belt

____________

Sherlock and Co fanfiction

_______________________

TW: eating disorder , anorexic Sherlock Holmes , Angst with happy ending

_______________________

John couldn’t help but blame himself. What kind of doctor was he? Worse than that, what kind of friend?

_______________________

It started so small.

Really, if John hadn’t kept going back in his mind (and occasionally his recordings) he wouldn’t have thought that it all had started so long ago.

That they didn’t notice for *months*.

“No milk or sugar, please.” Sherlock spoke up from his position on the couch. Legs long and fingers steepled, he was deep in thought.

John had been about to make some tea for them. A lovely early grey blend that he was scared to look the price up for. As such it wasn’t really a surprise that Sherlock preferred the pure taste of it.

“Fair enough mate.” John chuckled.

The bergamot was such a lovely note in John’s nose, once he opened the tin. His mind was elsewhere, partially thinking about how the hell bergamot even looked like, partially wondering if he still had enough poo bags for Archie.

As such it wasn’t a big surprise when, out of habit he stirred a dollop of milk and some sugar into Sherlock’s tea.

His mind was by now fully preoccupied by the horrendous pricing of poo bags, because really, they were taking the piss (well poo haha). John smiled at his own silly joke as he handed Sherlock his cup. The other man had sat up to reach for it but seemed to freeze once he inspected the cup’s content.

Only then did John notice that he had forgotten Sherlock’s request.

“Aw shit sorry I wasn’t thinking mate, I hope it’s not ruined now.” Sherlock stayed silent, a new expression on his face that John couldn’t really pinpoint. He might not be autistic but even he had trouble reading Sherlock’s facial expression. Quite often if he was honest. Finally his friend seemed to snap out of his stupor. “That’s alright Watson, I apologise for upsetting your tea making routine.” If John hadn’t known Sherlock as well as he did, he would have believed the other man to make fun of him. In reality he knew that Sherlock was being honest and sincere. It touched his heart.

“No don’t worry, I’ll keep it in mind for next time. I’m sorry if the milk or the sugar are ruining the tea blend.” Sherlock smiled gently, but proceeded to put his cup down on the table. “I’m sure it is going to be fine. Thank you.”

The cup went cold.

John tried to not be sad that he had ruined some perfectly good tea.

As days went by, John did manage to keep his flatmate’s updated tea preference in mind. The negative reinforcement from having to pour an entire cup of overpriced tea down the kitchen sink made sure of that.

“Good morning, Listener, it is quite early here in 221b Baker Street! Well also in the rest of England and eh our time zone, but it is especially early for us.”

“It really isn’t Watson.” Sherlock’s deep voice spoke from a distance. “Maybe not for you Mr. I have a new experiment and now do yoga all night long.” He snorted. When Sherlock had started to do stretches randomly throughout the day, he had not thought much of it. It wasn’t like he wasn’t curious, but this was Sherlock. After the couple of weeks they had lived together by then, he was hardly surprised by anything Sherlock did. (Especially after the shoelace tourniquet situation.)

“It’s for an experiment.” John had raised his eyebrows at the time. “It’s in the early stages so I’d rather not share my hypothesis right now.” John had laughed. “No ad hoc adjustments tho! That’s unfair!” Sherlock had rolled his eyes. “Please. I have scientific integrity.” With those words he had vanished.

“It is Pilates John, not Yoga. While Pilates has adapted some movements of various yoga practices it is not yoga.” John sighed. “I…didn’t know that did you know that listener? Well now we know, and we all learned something new today!” John continued his cherry cometary on a not so cherry case and just glanced at Sherlock as the other man sipped his plain tea. Maybe it was some experiment on health? Well Sherlock still wouldn’t share his idea and frankly John had other things on his mind as well.

“Hey what have you got there?”

Those could have been his last words. And yet here he was.

Life was so weird.

One second, you’re being blown up, the next you watch your flatmate in central London do some weird stretch that probably only works if your belly isn’t in the way. Sherlock and his lanky genetics must come in handy in a situation like that.

It wasn’t until after Christmas that John couldn’t help but notice Sherlock was eating weird. Or weirder than usual.

“Did those hashbrowns attack your family or why are you dissecting them so viciously?”

John did what he did best: try and deflect his worry with a bad joke.

Sherlock barely looked up from the assault on the hashbrowns, continued to drive his fork into them, but without ever actually picking up a piece.

“It seems they are upsetting my tummy.” He said in a tone of voice that spoke of deep grief, with words that didn’t. A comical contrast to the usually so serious and scientific man saying the word ‘tummy’. He gently put down his fork, right next to his plate and John couldn’t help but smile gently. “Aw mate I’m sorry. They’re the good ones from Tesco!”

Sherlock did not look massively impressed.

“Do you want something else? If your tummy is upset maybe some porridge?” Sherlock got up way too abruptly, his chair almost losing its balance from being pushed back so suddenly and vigorously.

“That’s alright John. I think I’ll just lay down for a bit.”

John shrugged but couldn’t shake his worry.

“I can make you some herbal tea maybe that will help.” Sherlock was slowly moving towards his room, but haltered.

“I would like that if it isn’t too much of a bother. Do we have fresh ginger?” John, who was not entirely on top of their groceries, but knew that much, nodded.

“Yes, bought some the other day for that curry!” He got up to search for it so he could peel and prepare it for Sherlock’s tea.

“Do you want any honey with it mate?” John looked over to Sherlock just in time to see a shiver run through Sherlock’s body.

He must be really unwell, John thought with pity in his belly. Maybe he should get him some medicine?

“No that is quite alright. Just the ginger, please. Thank you.” Without another word he vanished into his room, the door shut close, and John put on the kettle.

The upset tummy lingered around for a while.

Every time John cooked; Sherlock would refer to it.

“I just feel sick if I eat when I am not particularly hungry John. It really is not that surprising of a phenomenon.”

John, still a sceptical expression on his face, hummed. “I don’t know Sherlock, maybe you should get that looked after? Like from a GP?” Sherlock sighed.

“You worry too much; it is perfectly normal for me. This just happens sometimes.” This did nothing to diminish John’s worries. “Maybe you need a vacation? Some rest?” Sherlock shook his head, a displeased expression on his face. As if John inquiring about his wellbeing was

“No. I am fine; I shall just eat when I am actually hungry.” John raised an eyebrow. “And will you?” Sherlock frowned, but something was off. John couldn’t pinpoint it, but something about his friend’s demeanour just didn’t sit right with him that day.

“Of course, Watson. Why wouldn’t I?”

John couldn’t actually say anything in that regard. Sherlock might be reckless, borderline a danger to himself, but never on purpose, and never solely to just endanger himself.

And really who was John to pass any judgement on that particular type of behaviour, when he himself did the same. If he was being honest with himself.

“I- I don’t know mate. Guess I am just worried about you. You have lost some weight, and I really don’t want you to waste away right under my nose.”

Looking back, John should have understood the pained expression in Sherlock’s eyes as he stiffed in response to John’s words. But it was such a miniscule detail, only around for a split second. And John was known to draw the wrong conclusions, just as he did in that moment. “Shit, I’m sorry Sherlock I didn’t mean it like that!” Sherlock nodded, expression bland and far away.

“It’s okay.” Silence hung heavy between them for a painful moment. “Are you sure? I really didn’t mean- “Before John could continue his apology, Sherlock got up.

“I’ll be in my room.”

The violin wouldn’t stop singing for hours that night.

It all went to hell on a random Wednesday.

John had taken to start arranging Q&A questions on Wednesday, that is if they weren’t on a case. In the beginning it had been both easier and trickier because not as many questions had come up. Now however he had both the luxury and task to go through all the questions and cherry pick the ones he liked most or thought most appropriate for a mailbag episode. His friend had retreated earlier to do some more pilates. It was getting to a point where the loss of weight was undeniable, even if John tried to will the thoughts away.

Nevertheless the increasingly clogged shower drain, where more dark hair than ever dominated the blockage, as well as the lack of colour in his skin and eyes, had John worry.

Probably should tell him to take it slower with pilates, do some light stretches instead.

John had just prepared a lovely list of questions, even some backup ones in case Sherlock did not feel like answering any of them. It wasn’t really a common issue, but he wanted to be prepared. At this point they had been living together for well over a year, and quite frankly Sherlock was his best mate.

Aside from Archie.

Obviously.

“Oh Sherloooock.” He said in a singsang voice, trying to give an indicator to his friend that he was up to some shenanigans.

The detective did not answer, so John went onwards to knock on his door.

“Sherlock mate? Still working out?” Again no answer.

The joy at the thought of catching the insomniac asleep had John override the respect for his mate’s privacy. He would never know. How would he know?

Indeed when John pried open the door, he caught Sherlock on the floor. It seemed a rather odd position to be asleep in, nevermind the fact that it was on the floor.

After a second it started to sink in.

“Sherlock?”

No reaction.

John entered the room and went straight to check Sherlock’s vitals.

The pulse was weak, which had John’s skyrocket. He tried to wake Sherlock, but not a chance. “Fuck shit fuck. MARIANA!” He yelled as he fumbled for his phone, dialling 999.

The terror in his heart must have conveyed to his voice, as he could hear her running upstairs quicker than he had ever noticed. “John whats going on what- what is Sherlock doing?” Her voice trailed off as she took a moment to process the picture in front of her.

“He, he-“ “999 what is your emergency?” The operator asked through the phone, interrupting John’s non-existent explanation.

“My name is Doctor John Watson and my friend he- he is unconscious, I took his pulse, and he is displaying signs of arrythmia. I’m a medical doctor, but I can’t wake him up, he’s not reacting to external stimulation!” “We’ll send an ambulance right away to?” “221B Baker Street. First floor, set of stairs.” “Alright thank you Doctor Watson. Can you please check his pupillary reflexes for me and try to get a reading on his blood pressure.”

At some point between assessing Sherlock’s eyes under their lids and the ride to the hospital John must have turned on autopilot. He did all the things the operator asked off him, while Marianna, seemingly in a similar state of shock, went downstairs to guide the ambulance people once they arrived. For a moment, the silence in 221 Baker Street could have swallowed London whole.

“Doctor Watson? Miss Ametxazurra?” John jumped from the steely hospital seat. He kind of felt dizzy, whether from worry or getting up too quickly, he didn’t dare to care.

“Mr. Holmes is stable, but severely malnourished. We have initiated measures to keep him stabilised. Please follow Arthur over here he will bring you to your friend’s room.”

John gulped and looked for the nurse she had pointed out. “John what does this mean?” Marianna asked with an uncharacteristic quiver in her voice.

“I…eh I need to check his file to…to know for sure.” For a second the duo followed the nurse silently, only the orchestra of a A&E providing them with a soundtrack.

“John…severely malnourished …does that…” John tried to bite back any and all emotions bubbling up. “I know Mari…I-fuck” He swore under his breath, just as Marianna took his hand. John wasn’t sure if it was for his comfort or hers, but he didn’t really care.

He just took it and held on for dear life.

The room was too small and too big at once for the man lying in it. John couldn’t pinpoint if it was the gown, the bed, or just Sherlock that made the detective appear so fragile.

Marianna seemed to have a similar train of thought, her hand gripping John’s tighter as she drew in a harsh breath. John closed his eyes. He had not seen Sherlock without sweaters in weeks, but even then, he should have noticed how thin these clever, violinist fingers had gotten. How his wrists looked as if one high five would break them. He should have noticed that hairs had been growing all over Sherlock’s arm in a desperate attempt to keep the detective warm.

He let go of Marianna’s hand, rubbing his eyes. Now was not the time. He grabbed Sherlock’s file, could feel Marianna right beside him, but when he skimmed it, one document stood out.

The one he had really really really not wanted to see.

The MARSIPAN checklist.

“John what…what does this mean?” He swallowed the tears that were threatening to fall.

“It’s…it is the protocol for uh patients with anorexia.” Once the word had left his mouth, he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, no matter how hard he tried.

A glance at Marianna confirmed that her shocked gasp was accompanied with brimming tears.

“So…so all this because…?”

John cursed.

“I should have…fuck I should have noticed. Experiment…he said…” The anger bubbling in his chest wasn’t helping. He knew it was a secondary fucking emotion and that he really was just heartbroken and sad and shocked for his best friend. But for a short moment anger felt better or less harmful to his own sanity.

“I am such a fucking idiot I-“ Marianna took his free hand again. “Hey no, no, no. You and I both know that if Sherlock has something on his mind he won’t be stopped. Even if we had noticed…he…he would have convinced us otherwise.”

John took deep breaths, but he couldn’t find any words. Too many thoughts and none at the same time were streaming through his mind.

“I- they will need to have the rest of this eh...checked. I’ll-“ He gestured towards the MARSIPAN checklist that had fallen on the floor in their shock. Marianna smiled a sad little smile, but the tears drying on her cheeks and brimming in her eyes betrayed her brave façade.

“I’ll uhm grab some coffee.” She said softly, clearing her throat.

John didn’t know how she did it, maybe she was psychic, but she knew he needed a moment alone right now. And if John knew her at all, so did she.

Looking at the cold hard facts of on the checklist that had been ticked by the medical staff had John wanting to rip his hair out. So he just sat there, ticking the boxes he knew, leaving out the ones that Sherlock would have to answer. He just kept looking at the questions. Why had he not done anything?

“It’s not your fault.” A soft voice spoke over the constant beep of the ECG. John almost fell from the chair upon the unexpected disruption of his self-loathing.

He almost didn’t dare to look into Sherlock’s direction. The image of fragile, passed out Sherlock with a feeding tube up his nose and IV nutrients entering through a port on the back on his hand, will forever be burned into the inside of his brain.

Seeing him again like that…and yet, his eyes were open. Once they had found John’s they averted quickly.

“I am a doctor. And your best friend. I should have…something.” Sherlock hummed; his eyes closed. “Profound analysis doctor.”

Silence. John didn’t know what to say, if he should ask something or…just talk.

“We don’t even have a scale.” He blurted out, because really that had been on his mind. How had Sherlock controlled it, monitored it, without a scale. The detective huffed.

“It’s not about weight Watson.” The softspoken vulnerability in his voice had John deflate even more.

He finally managed to move from the chair, as if the magnetic pull from his butt to the seat had finally passed.

When he tried to reach for Sherlock’s hand, the other wanted to pull away, but John was quicker, gently encasing the hand not hooked up to an IV.

“What is it about then.” Silence. John could feel how slowly, so very slowly the detective’s hand warmed up in his grasp.

Sherlock looked out of the window. “I am not sure…how it started. By now I fear…that it has something to do with control. Numbers. Knowing that I am in control of my body. That the numbers bow to me.” John closed his eyes. If he remembered correctly, it was quite a common theme in those with anorexia.

“I am not some 16-year-old kid who wanted to be skinny. I just-“ “Wanted to be in control. I get it mate.” Sherlock tentatively met his gaze for a second, as if to gauge the sincerity of that statement. “You want to have control at least over…over something if not your brain. If you can’t make anything else work…at least that much, right?”

Sherlock nodded, his eyes averted, focused on a singular thread in the sheets.

“Hate to break it to you, a lot of those 16-year-olds have similar reasons, even if it doesn’t seem that way.” John tried to smile, and it did elicit an amused huff from Sherlock.

“I am scared John.” Sherlock spoke after a while. And he did sound it. That mad man who had held guns to his head, chased criminals, scaled buildings, and ordered illegal drugs off the internet sounded genuinely scared. John did not say anything, just applying gentle pressure to his hands to let Sherlock know he was listening. “When…when I passed out. I thought…I never thought I’d die like this. As a byproduct of myself. I could have sworn I felt my heart slow down and stop, which it didn’t I know that factually, but the feeling…I cannot let go of it.” Sherlock mused with terror in his eyes. John understood, gently applied some pressure to Sherlock’s hand to let him know that he did. Not literally, but as a friend, as someone who has his own struggles with mental health or just plain health.

“How long…how long have you not uh…” John tried to ask a question he was scared to hear the answer to. How unobservant had he been, how gullible. But he needed to know. For his own sanity and for the checklist.

“Over the past 8 days I had one apple and 100g of porridge on water basis. No sweetener.”

John closed his eyes trying to process. “A week. You haven’t…” “I wanted to see how long I can go. How long 150 kcal would last.” In this moment Marianna entered the room again, where John was now holding onto Sherlock’s hand for dear life.

“Oh my god Sherlock.” She exclaimed, rushing to put down the coffees on the side table. “Sherlock is alright Mrs Hudson.” The detective tried to joke, but both John and Marianna were not in the business of being deflected. John, still trying to process the information, now turned to the checklist and ticked: acute food refusal.

“That is not correct Watson.” Sherlock chimed in, his eyes focused in on the checklist, but John wasn’t having any of it. “Oh yeah, so you would eat? Right now? Anything?” Silence hung over the room.

“That’s what I thought.” He murmured as he went to ring for the nurse.

Sherlock seemed to understand how serious John was about this, because his entire expression sobered. “Please don’t…don’t make me stay.” The genuine fear in Sherlock’s voice had John feel his heart break clean into two.

John was torn, a sentiment returned by Marianna as they exchange glances.

The nurse came, and John handed him the checklist. “What about treatment?” The nurse asked upon skimming the answers John had added. It was the only one he did not know how to fill in.

“Is there…I don’t know an outpatient program? Since I am a doctor and I live with him is eh is there something we can do?” He asked the nurse, who now checked some other vitals and values in the file. “Hm…I’d have to check in with Dr. Doyle, she is the one to make the call. In theory we can, but only once he is stabilised. You would have to take care of his feeding tube too.” Sherlock visibly deflated a bit more with every word the nurse said.

“I think I can handle that much. What about therapy?” “I don’t need therapy.” A sharp and determined glare from John had Sherlock turn silent. “Yes you do.” John said with a new found determination in his voice.

If he had not been there to prevent any of this to escalate, he sure as hell would amend the damage that had been done.

“Again, I’ll check with Dr. Doyle. We will need to keep him for a day or two, just to make sure his heart is strong enough.” Marianna took a deep breath, closing her eyes. And John was tempted to do the same.

Once the nurse had left, silence (now a close acquaintance) was lingering.

“If I…-“ Sherlock finally broke the silence. For the past couple minutes it had appeared as if he had been mentally away. John couldn’t blame him, he desperately had wished to leave as well. Mentally at least.

“You don’t have to do this John. Marianna.” Hearing Sherlock use John’s name had him jolt. “We know that Sherlock.” Marianna said softly. A quick exchange of glances told John that she was as touched as he was for Sherlock to just use their names. Those few occasions were as precious as they were rare.

“But we want to.” John finished her sentence and Marianna nodded.

John was still holding Sherlock’s hand, as if he was scared to let go. Sherlock hummed.

“It will take a while…I might never…never be comfortable with food the way I used to.” Sherlock mumbled.

“Sherlock we’d stick around even if all you ever consumed from here on out was marshmallows and tea.”

Despite the tension and sadness in the room, none of them could hold the giggle bubbling up.

It was going to be a long road.

But John was sure that if anyone could get through this, it would be their little Baker Street family.

[beach-hermit]

Rainy day

Thats a little story I wrote, I'm not really good at writing so don't expect to much

-

It's a rainy day in Pelican Town. Almost nobody is outside, everyone but you. As a farmer, it’s your duty to run the farm and make money, even in weather like this. You’re glad it’s just warm rain on a sultry day and not a thunderstorm.

It’s also Wednesday, which means Pierre’s is closed. Still, you decide to take a stroll through town. Nobody is outside, Pelican Town doesn't have many people living here, so it can get pretty lonely sometimes and in days like these, it feels extremly lonely. Like walking through a abandoned area even tho all the places are running.

Your walk eventually leads you to the beach. The wet sand sticks to your shoes as you take your first steps. The rain ripples across the ocean, and the waves a even. From behind you can see the lights in Willy's shop, but you have no interest in going there. Instead, you decide to give Elliott a spontaneous visit. He’s one of the first people you became close with, almost like a friend. You know Elliott values his privacy, especially in the morning when his cabin is usually locked. It’s 11:40 AM now, so hopefully you aren’t interrupting him.

You knock on the old wooden door and wait. The seconds feel longer than usual. Is he not home? The rain grows heavier by the moment, impulsively you turn the door handle and to your surprise, it opens. You rush inside and see Elliott sitting infront of his piano, he seem to not notice you yet, as soon as you close the door a little bit to loud behind you, the piano melody stops.

Elliott turns to face you, his orange hair falls from his shoulder as he tilts his head. "I knew someone was here," he says, standing up from his seat. "What brings you here? Escaping the rain?" He smiles at you with his usual gentle expression.

"I went for a little walk, that’s all," you reply casually.

"In this terrible weather? You’re soaked, you could catch a cold y/n." There was a hint of concern on his ton. Without hesitation, Elliott takes off his red coat and swings it over your shoulders. "I unfortunately don't own a oven or a heater to warm you up", he says, his large hands still on your shoulders.

"It’s fine. I’m used to it by now," you reassure him, trying to make him less worry. Elliott lets go of you, with a thoughtful face he walks over to his desk, leaning over it to write something down. You can see his back muscles through his white shirt and the way his hair falls perfectly on his back.

Elliott turns back to you. "Sorry, I just had a idea for my noval and also sorry for not opening the door. I don't expect people to visit me and I thought an animal or something made that knocking noise." He apologizes.

"It’s fine. You were playing that piano..."

"Oh, yes. Sometimes, I need a break from writing and just play something here and there," he interrupts, placing a hand on the old piano. "I’m not particularly good at it, though-"

"I thought it sounded beautiful," you interrupt him this time.

Elliott smiles and looks to the floor. "Thank you," he chuckles. "I appreciate that. But like I said, I’m not really good, I’m still learning... sort of."

"Could you... play something for me?... maybe?" you ask hesitantly.

Elliott’s eyes light up at your request, as if no one has ever asked him that before. "But of course! Sit down, let me give you a show!" he says excitedly, settling back down at the seat. You carefully sit on the edge of his bed, hoping not to leave a wet stain on it.

Elliott looks at the keys with focus, his fingers standing to tap over the keys almost by itself, it looked smoothly how he plays it. A unidentifiable melody comes from the piano, it doesn't sound sad but not cheerful either. Whatever it means, the only one that knows is Elliott and it sounds beautiful. The rain that ripples on the wood of the cabin, starts to fade into the background as Elliott gets more and more into it.

[borom1r]

WEIRD fuckin ask but we talked about it once and it would not exit the brain. Flavours of neurodivergence within the fellowship: discuss?

OGH. no, good ask. good ask I love it. AUTISM FLAVORED bc that is my own experience :3

Aragorn— autism of the “I Am 100% A Changeling, I Have No Idea How To Relate To Humanity” variety. like yea being partly raised by elves didn’t help but he absolutely wandered around mimicking people to learn how to Behave Like A Person. autism trait absorption for the win!! comes to Minas Tirith and gets a painful crash course in masking, but never quite figured out how to Not stare at someone like a feral cat when he wants something from them (despite the Stare, HATES eye contact)

Boromir— OPPOSITE AUTISM. very direct. EXTREMELY rigid routines. military history special interest (literally just undiagnosed dad autism). probably has food sensitivities but he’s spent so long as a soldier he can just eat anything now. he hates it and he won’t eat a big portion of non-safe foods, but at least he can swallow them. he IS absolutely 100% undiagnosed and doesn’t think there’s anything wrong but if he doesn’t get to perfectly make his bed every morning he will be in a Noticeably Bad Mood for the rest of the day < does not understand that this isn’t normal

Gandalf— oh there’s definitely something going on there, but good luck with figuring THAT out

Legolas— AuDHD king. the autism/ADHD comorbidity is real and he barely bothers to mask. least of all in front of men?? he’s an elf prince and you expect him to act “normal” by human standards? I love how jacked up the Hobbit film timeline is bc Thranduil implying to Legolas “yeah go hang out in Rivendell with a ten year old” is SO funny. canon to me tho. there was a very significant chunk of time where Aragorn was just Mini Legolas. hell world for civilized Rivendell elves. unlike Aragorn, however, prefers very direct eye contact. WILL fully hit you with the 👁️👁️ almost unblinking for a whole conversation

Gimli— I’m gonna be real here. I think neurotypical but in the sense of like. literally nobody cares. dwarves are craftsmen, artisans, smiths, you think they’re going to risk squandering talent simply because somebody needs some accommodations? are you nuts???? like yea maybe somebody’s a Little Weird Sometimes but they can work the forge just fine or tool leather for straps/handle wraps, or draft designs, or stamp metal for decorations, like?? doesn’t particularly grasp the need for labels when you can just work with ppl to figure out what’s best for them + then everyone’s happy. fully has to stew on the fact that Men Don’t Do That, men are actually very rigid about what is socially acceptable and won’t provide accommodations Unless there is a label. wild.

Frodo— autism/depression hell combination. no meltdowns, only shutdowns. auditory processing disorder!! definitely also has poor temperature regulation (CONSTANTLY cold). hey did u know that’s a symptom of ASD? crazy. WILD. anyways. Sam knows he can barely handle the feeling of mittens/gloves so half the time when they’re hanging out is Sam just holding Frodo’s hands so they actually fucking warm up for a bit. not too rigid about Big routines, most of his are Little (always putting a specific amount of sugar in his tea, for example)

Sam— neurotypical but in the sense of my dad where he was just SO used to me being Autistically Strange that he was just like. “well, that’s Strider!” < blissfully unaware. fully just SO used to whatever’s going on w/ Frodo+Merry that it’s Normal to him. like wdym they’re different?? those are just his friends?? hello??

Merry— ADHDDDDDDDDD. and look ik Tolkien said pipeweed is just tobacco but that’s a lie and we all know it, right? right. self-medicating with pipeweed.

Pippin— neurotypical but Pippin-flavored

[otomes-and-tears]

CAN I REQUEST A JB X SHILOH FIC WHERE SHILOH AND JB ARE DATING, SHILOH IS DATING JB PURELY FOR HIS OWN BENEFIT BUT THEN OVER TIME HE SLOWLY STARTS TO FALL FOR HER. ONE DAY HE SMILES AFTER TEXTING WITH JB AND FEELS SAD THAT THEY STOPPED. THATS WHEN HE GOES : “Oh” “Oh shit.” CAN I GET A FIC OF THAT REALIZATION it’s okay if u don’t want to tho it’s fine i’m just insane brbrrbrjrj

♦ The games we play (The lies we live) ♦

► tags/warnings: -

► summary: Sometimes the quietest realisations are the most horrifying.

► words: 1598

► a/n: THANK YOU FOR THE SHILOH REQUEST i freaked out so much when I got it!! He's my favorite boy ever and It's so nice to get to write him! I LOVE THAT LITTLE SPOTTED SNAKE! Ok so, for context, there's a little interaction you can get with Missy and Alicia where they're discussing their plans for the weekend and JB (who's dating shiloh) mentions she isn't going to spend time with him because she likes to keep him on his toes, just so he doesn't slack off in sucking up to her because they're dating. This fic is basically what's happening to him when she's ignoring him

► Masterlist

> I’m telling you shya!!!

> lynn totally saw me  > he just pretended not to and passed right by me :/ > didn’t even say hi > do you think that if I act upset enough he’ll make an extra meeting to apologise?”

The text messages poured in, Shiloh’s phone lighting up in accordance to the frantic rhythm of JB’s thoughts, reflecting her annoyance with nurse Lynn’s behaviour. Her contact was pulled up so Shiloh could see them right as they were received. There’s a little red number in the corner of the screen, right next to the arrow that collapses the chat and allows him to see his other conversations.

A tiny emblem of his neglect for the other thirty or so conversations he hadn’t bothered to answer just yet. They didn’t matter right now, anyway.

JB, his current target, did.

…For now, at least.

A year, two weeks and two days.

It’s how long they had been exclusively dating. Shiloh knew the exact count off the top of his head. It wasn’t romanticism that kept the date firmly stuck within his memory, but a downright obsession, a careful reminder of the parameters of the game they both played, but JB excelled at.

She had whisked him away for a ride on the tunnel of love for their anniversary just two days ago, the echoes of her laughter bouncing off the dim lights of a ride he had visited far too many times before. Wherever she led, he followed obediently, content to allow her to set the rules for the evening, curious to see what she’d do next, what boundaries she’d push. What information she'd try to learn.

And it had been… interesting.

JB was not exactly like the others he’d been with. He tried to picture them in his mind— but their names and faces blurred together. An amalgam of broken hearts he discarded once they’d outgrown their purpose.

He always knew that Jb was different. 

The girls before her had been easier, for one. Soft, pliant things who clung to his well-rehearsed charm like moths to a flame. 

They were swayed by his charms and easy flattery, enchanted by his willingness to remember important dates and the little moments he fabricated to make himself appear just vulnerable enough to fool them into believing there was more to his inner world than what he showed, plainly, to the rest of the world. 

Jb was not the first girl by far to believe she saw through him, but she was likely the very first to be motivated by a desire to make him worse rather than better. No disappointed sighs and gentle kisses and soft assurances that they’d open up his heart to love, that they’d love him just as much if he started being his genuine self. That he would never have to be afraid of rejection just as long as he held them in his arms. 

JB was easy to read and made her desires clear with every word that left her smiling lips. 

She took everything he gave her eagerly. Lies and truths alike,uncaring of which is which , just as long as he kept himself useful, as he stayed interesting enough to sate her boredom. She kept him on his toes, and allowed him to perfect his tactics, delighted in every time she was able to call him the snake that he was.

It was… Fun, surprisingly. More fun than he ever had with any of his previous… Girlfriends? Conquests? 

Of course. If he accused Jb of dating him for unpure reasons, he could likely point the finger at himself, too. She had been his target for a simple reason: JB, the only girl in the stupid after-school group he had been forced to join, had become the quiet object of everyone’s attention

It had been a powerplay. She was attractive enough, funny enough, and being with her meant that, for however long Shiloh kept Jb’s interest, all those guys he hated didn’t get what they wanted. They’d have to live with the fact that Shiloh of all people robbed them of their prize.

And well, no one could never accuse him of not being petty.

That’s how things started, of course. But Shiloh isn’t exactly sure that this is where things stand now. Being with JB has been practical— useful to his image, a silly ploy for revenge, but every time she dragged him out for a date and smiled just a little wider when she managed to make him struggle for an answer, he found himself hoping that whatever he did to make her like him would keep her interest for a little while longer.

It was easy to rationalise it, at first. He needed her to like him for as long as possible in order for his ploy to be effective. He needed to be the one to put a stop to their relationship once it had outgrown its use. He had considered it once or twice already—  but he never went through with it, always convincing himself to hold out for just a little longer.

But a year had passed.

A full year had passed and Jb was still listed as “girlfriend” on his contact list.

And he didn’t know why.

He stared at her latest text, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. Finally, he typed:

> I don’t think our groupmates would like that very much D';

Not a minute later he receives her indignant texts in response. 

And Shiloh laughed.

A real laugh, unbidden and quiet, slipping past the cracks in his carefully constructed facade.

—

She doesn’t answer her texts the next day.

Shiloh didn’t think much of it at first.

JB was mercurial by nature, her moods shifting with the same careless speed as her insults. If she stopped texting for a day, he chalked it up to one of her whims. Maybe she was busy with her endless stream of other amusements— gossiping with Missy, spending time with Alicia or oh so carefully balancing her social engagements to make sure she was well-liked by the several cliques at their school

It wasn’t unusual.

By the second day, Shiloh’s phone felt a little heavier in his pocket.

He checked it compulsively, convincing himself he wasn’t worried. This wasn’t the first time JB had gone radio silent. Of course, it was one of her games. It had to be. 

One specifically designed to pull him taut so she could watch him squirm. 

She always got a kick out of that.

Still, he found himself typing out messages and deleting them before they could take form. What could he even say? Shiloh was well aware that she would love to see him crawling, pathetically begging her for any scraps of attention she’d be so magnanimous as to offer him, but she didn’t always enjoy predictability. What if she wanted something new? What if his usual humiliation wasn’t enough?

By the third day, the silence wasn’t just noticeable. It was deafening.

When Shiloh saw her in the corridors, talking to Everett of all people, she breezed past him without so much as a second glance. Her perfect composure gave nothing away: not a flicker of irritation or even triumph. If this was punishment, she didn’t need to gloat. JB had already won.

For the first time, Shiloh didn’t know how to play her.

And it was strange.

That night, he paced his room restlessly, until his roommate got so annoyed he left for the common room. Shiloh’s phone sat innocently on the nightstand, like it wasn’t a symbol of his torment, glowing softly with her name pulled up on his contact list.

She hadn’t blocked him—he knew because he’d sent a casual, nonchalant “Hey” an hour earlier, and the little “seen” indicator had appeared beneath it, making her silence even more revealing.

He could’ve called her. And he should, maybe. Perhaps that was the desperate measure she had been looking for, but he had the feeling she would’ve rejected it without a second thought.

So instead, he threw himself onto his bed, hat falling to the floor. Shiloh glares at the ceiling as the realisation crept in:

It started as a whisper, a nagging doubt he tried to smother with arrogance and logic. She was just another game, another conquest, like the amalgam of names and faces that came before her. She liked him because he was a liar and a snake, because he was interesting, and he stuck around her because she was useful. That’s all it was.

But the longer he sat in her absence, the louder the whisper became.

He thought about the way her laugh could slice through his defences like a razor. The way she could look at him with that curious glint in her eyes, like she could read every rotten thing written in his soul and didn’t care about how deep the cracks went. 

The way she made him feel… seen, even when he wasn’t sure he liked it. 

She never fell for the ideal of who he could be.

“Oh,” 

He murmured aloud, his voice a hollow echo in the quiet room, grey eyes widening in realization. When

And then, softer, more horrified, as the truth settled in his chest like a lead weight. He barely even hears the sound of his phone pinging, notifying him that Jb had finally answered his text, through the thudding of his heart.

“Oh.”

For once, in many years, Shiloh Fields had no plan. 

No angle. 

No convenient excuse to bury this unfamiliar ache that bloomed whenever JB crossed his mind. 

He was screwed.

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 29

chapter 48:

1. oof. i was NOT prepared for james to realize regulus is a death eater

2. “Everything I do in that arena, it's for you.” james is not handling that well. it’s repeated every other paragraph and it feels like a punch to the GUT

3. pros of crimson rivers universe:

•homophobia and transphobia just aren’t a thing in this universe.

•james potter is a real human being.

•wolfstar is together

cons of crimson rivers universe:

• 23 people are brutally slaughtered in an arena for entertainment

4. oh thank god regulus chose his correct person to lie about killing. regulus is smart af

5. “Everything I do in that arena, it's for you.

How, Reg? James thinks, staring at the screen with a lump in his throat. How is this for me? Tell me how.”

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

6. 😐 james is trusting reg. with no hesitation. no hesitation. nohejsjksidksjsjdlalajsa

7. “Everyone better hope Regulus is fine, because if he isn't, if he's dead, Sirius is going to kill every single fucking person in this maze for daring to live when his little brother didn't.”

i choked on my tea yall. i’m actually so scared for everyone in that arena alongside sirius

8. augusta vs alice argument 👀 i’m here for the drama (that very much makes me a bad person)

9. MARLENE NO

10. thank god she’s fine

11. even tho regulus is a death eater, i find comfort in the fact that regulus hates those people and their personalities

12. the way mavis and velvets deaths remind regulus of his own games with james. two people who didn’t want to live without the other

13. god the evan call backs and KILLING me

14. “Regulus thinks Alecto is quite mental to subject herself to a shift of dealing with two of the Black sisters, who are as equally dramatic and ridiculous as the Black brothers when they want to be.”

LMAOO

15. “He's not here to make friends. It didn't go well for him last time, literally only last year, down to the same fucking day. Exactly a year ago, Regulus spent the day with Evan Rosier, climbing a tree to get to weapons, learning to trust, not knowing that he was on a clock that was running out where the best friend he didn't even know he would have was going to leave him, before he could even properly find him, and know him.”

punched in the fucking gut over this

16. narcissa playing up the pregnancy thing is freaking hilarious

17. the mention of andromeda took me out. i am not okay. reg wonders if andy is at home with her family watching the black family reunion on screen and missing them. babes… i hate to break it to you…

18. remus is pissed at regulus and tbh i don’t blame him

19. mcgonnagal being referred to as cat like>>>

20. the way that the game makers are referring to these games as brutal like never before is honestly terrifying. how the hell is dorcas gonna pull off getting them out?

[joyswonderland1108]

Things you learn in this fandom

You know what? These past days taught me that, some Army aren’t really homophobic and those who are actually allies don’t really dislike “assuming” that JK or Jimin are in a relationship with a man.

Because they had no problem giggling at that fake dating rumor between JK and Felix, they also had no problem shipping JK with Mingyu from a less than 2 mins live, no problem shipping Jimin with Taemin after a dance challenge was posted. 

The problem here is specifically associating JK with Jimin, i’m saying specifically because they also have no problem calling JK or Jimin with another member a “couple”. 

So now touching, eye contact and dancing together is considered romantic, a sign and hint of undying love HM. 

Again you don’t have to see Jikook as duo who are into a romantic relationship really, if you want to call us delusional, do your thing you’re free to do that, you are entitled to your own opinion on someone else’s belief (Still doesn’t give you the right to attack people for their beliefs that you disagree with tho just to make things clear) but going out of your way to completely belittle the bond between Jimin and JK?

At this point it’s not that you just don’t want to “ship” them, you absolutely despise the idea of them being even slightly close to each other. Motherfuckers over here trying damn hard to stick that “brothers” label on them, i swear if these people were given two choices on their deathbed either get a second chance for life or have more arguments to label Jikook as brothers they’d go for the latter.

And after oh so proudly deleting content about Jimin and Jungkook or not even posting about it their whole argument is “I don’t want to bring shippers into my account” while also posting about other “ships” and bringing the vilest of them all under their comments and qts.. 

So this 

And that

This

And that

Are absolute and undeniable proof of years of romantic feelings, yearning to be with each other and seek for freedom to parade the love of their lives. But this

Is shipping two brothers from another mother and being absolutely delusional, disgusting shipper, making up stories of things the boys NEVER (they did) share with us, making up dates (that they very clearly went to), you name it. 

Again, as i said above, if one doesn’t want to “assume” there’s something more going on between these two, FINE it’s not like they’re making it obvious or anything you know, just two bros biting and sucking on each other’s skin, no homo tho. 

But in all seriousness, you really don’t have to support them in that way if you don’t see them that way, you also don’t have to go out of your way to belittle their bond just because you don’t want to look like a “shipper” or don’t want to rile up the “jokers”. One can still appreciate a bond without necessarily seeing the romance in it and still be detached from a particular group of people they don’t really like to associate with, although they have no problem associating with a whole ass cult just saying.

All in all, you’re not really being that “very good person” you oh so want to make yourself be by “not assuming someone’s sexuality or their relationship to someone else” you just really feel uncomfortable acknowledging that Jimin and JK are in fact very close towards each other, you just really don’t like their closeness that you would rather jump off of a cliff falling after baseless rumors of them dating different people than admit that they “might” actually be dating each other. 

With that being said, Jikook love each other and you and your opinion can sit on a cactus, you have other “matters” to worry about than Jikook being a thing. As our dear Jeremy F. said “Suck my dick and choke on it i yield my time. FUCK YOU!”

SEVEN IS COMING, SET YOUR STREAMING GOALS FOR A HEALTHIER AND LONG LIFE!!! 💜

[sparkles-and-trash]

Hawks is avoiding him.

Dabi is furious about it, and even more so, he’s furious because of how much he suddenly cares.

It’s not like the two of them were super close, but quite frankly Dabi had found himself enjoying the banter with the little bird, and even found himself not minding his company when they were just doing their own things around each other.

So yeah, it’s quite fucking annoying that the stupid chicken is now avoiding him at every cost.

Dabi hasn’t even been any worse than usual, so whatever it was, the stupid hero was the problem.

Since Dabi knows Hawks is currently having some sort of «meeting» with Shigaraki somewhere in the PLF mansion, he decides to be prepared this time.

So, poor Hawks is entirely unaware as he leaves the meeting with the boss, which had really turned out to be Shigaraki venting about all the new people he had to deal with.

Normally he’d go look for someone to hang out with under the guise of spying, but in reality it was just to get to hang out with people he actually liked.

Not today tho.

Today he needs to get out of there as soon as possible, to make sure he doesn’t run into-

«Hey there, Little Bird.»

…fuck.

Hawks tries to plaster on a smile before he turns around, but he knows it’s strained.

«Hot Stuff!» he says trough his teeth, and he already feels the effects the arsonist have on him rip trough his body.

His wings trembled, his eyes lost focus on everything but Dabi, his body temperature shot in the air, he swore he could hear the other mans pulse thrum trough his body, and he wants, he needs-

«Birdie? Pidgeon? Hellooo?»

Hawks snaps himself out of it, and smacks Dabi’s hand away as he backs away.

«Don’t- I mean just, I’m fine, good, alright, heh!»

The words stumble out of his mouth like he just learned how to talk.

Dabi’s eyes suddenly get a little more serious, and he reaches out to touch Hawks’ face out of pure instinct.

Hawks entire body fails him, and he leans his cheek into Dabi’s warm palm, and before he knows what he’s doing he’d chirping and nuzzling into the hand.

Fuuuuck.

Dabi’s eyes are wide as saucers, but his face is weirdly soft.

Hawks entire brain screams at him to back away, but his instincts simply won’t let him.

Feels to good. To be touched. Even like this. By his Mate.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

He looks up at him, meets his beautiful blue eyes, blinks, try to find he words, but…

«Okay little bird, you’re starting to freak me out here.»

Hawks shudders, and croons apologetically.

Dabi sighs.

«First you ignore me for a week,» he starts, voice going a little deeper, his hand holding into Hawks’ face a little tighter.

«Then…»

He gently but sternly moves Hawks’ face to the opposite side so he gets to inspect his entire beautiful face.

«You come here acting like a bird in hea…»

Hawks feels his face go hot as he watches Dabi’s face light up with realization.

«Fuck me birdie, are you in heat?»

Hawks squaks and jumps back in embarrasment, and suddenly his voice finds him again.

«No!» he protests, but can’t seem to get himself to move further away from Dabi.

«Then… what?» Dabi asked, moving slowly torwards him again, caging him towards the wall with his body.

«It’s not… like, it’s not because of the season or anything, it’s because, well, I haven’t really even had it happen before, so…»

Dabi raises his eyebrows and gently grabs Hawks’ chin again to tilt his head up and their eyes meet.

Hawks’ face is entirely pink, and his pupils are huge.

Dabi shivers, and feels the heat in his gut flare up.

«So…?» he drawls.

Hawks chrips helplessly, eyes flicking back and fourth before he suddenly sets his eyes into Dabi’s.

«It’s YOU!» he squawks out.

Dabi blinks a few times, slowly, and his confidence seems to falter a little.

«Me..?»

Hawks nods and ruffles his feathers a little.

«My instincts they… think you’re my mate or whatever.»

Dabi shivers so hard he feels it in his toes.

«Mate, huh?»

Hawks nods again, finally letting his instincts win out.

«You make me feel… you’re supposed to be with me, mine, and I couldn’t stop it, it kept happening, I had to make sure you didn’t..»

Dabi smirks softly.

«Know? A little late for that, yeah?» he croons, and leans his face in even closer to Hawks’.

Hawks chitters softly, and rubs his nose against Dabi’s, letting all the noises he’s been trying to hide out.

Dabi practically purrs back at him.

«Such a good little bird,» he purrs, and Hawks thrills eagerly, pressing his face into Dabi’s neck, nibbling desperatly.

«Mmm, my mate, mine,» he mumbles between chitters and coo’s.

Dabi chuckles darkly.

«Sure, little bird,» he says roughly, running his hand along his little birdie’s wings.

«Damn sure.»

[ryuichirou]

Replies

A couple of replies today

bbhowie asked:

your art is so sensual and sharp, i’m not even in some of the fandoms you draw for but i’m following anyway bc it’s all so hot! thank you for sharing your talent with the world!

I appreciate it so much!! <3 This is such a nice thing to hear, I am very happy that you like my art and enjoy it even if it’s a fanart of things that you don’t really care about.

Thank you for your kind words!

Anonymous asked:

What did Idia do to make Lilia punish him? (Not really a punishment tho, I’d like to be up against the old man’s bare chest too)

(this is about this drawing)

To be honest, I didn’t really think about it much; I guess he was just saying some bratty stuff. I really love it when Idia is being annoying or has no filter, and even though Lilia is usually pretty chill around him or just overpowers him with the sheer dominance that he radiates, I like to think that sometimes he wouldn’t even bother and will just go “JAIL” and shove Idia’s head under his shirt to make him shut up for a moment. The fact that Idia would get flustered and freaked out is a sweet bonus that would make Lilia enjoy himself tremendously~ Totally worth it.

Anonymous asked:

I need to get this off my mind before I combust.

So

Imagine this being the first few weeks of the OctoTrio coming to land and they are exploring their new bodies   , Floyd sees this dick and when he touched it he was exploring a new sensation...... THEN HE SPINS IT AROUND LIKE A HELICOPTER AND IT LIKE "Azul!!!!! Jade!!!!!! COME LOOK AT THIS NEW TRICK I HAVE LEARNED THAT HUMAN BODIES CAN DO"!!!!!

Okay time for my ask now,

So I am the same person about the merman and human sex and if the trio would use a potion to turn their lovers into mermans themselves.

So, I know the twins are into biting ( especially Floyd) , maybe Azul too.

But, would the twins for as far as of biting to "mark" their mates?

I mean like not the light biting, a little bleeding kind.

I mean, they absolutely sink their teeth in, kind of like a devoting type of way when they are biting to make sure it will scar and permanently leave a mark, and absolutely make sure that everyone can see it.

Omg the first part of the ask NOOOO Floyd never should have been entrusted with a dick. This toy is too dangerous, and Floyd will find a way to traumatise everyone around with it both physically and mentally, but also monetary because someone would have to pay a fine for acting inappropriately….

To answer your question, I think Azul bites, but not as much as the tweels: he’s more of a squeezer-pincher, so I guess he would leave bruises instead lol

And the tweels bite A LOT. I’m not sure if this is an eel mermen thing or just the Leech bros thing, but I wouldn’t be surprised if someone who is their long-term lover would be covered in deep scars. I guess it’s “marking” in a way? Because there is no way you wouldn’t think it’s Jade and/or Floyd who did it, so of course it’s their way to show who their lover belong to, but they don’t have an instinct inside their heads to “claim” someone. They’ll bite a lot though! I think I always draw them either biting or licking others lol especially Floyd.

Anonymous asked:

merman sex is all well and good, but the real question we should be asking is another: would any of the boys be up to have sex with Jack while he's... you know... using his UM?

You know, Anon… there is this one artist on pixiv who draws beautiful JackVil with this exact theme… so my go-to is always to think of Vil, even though he is probably the one who would be the least expected to be into this type of stuff. I guess Jack is that much of a good boy 😭

I don’t know if any of the boys would actively think about it or even anticipate it, but honestly I want to believe that every boy we ship Jack with would enjoy it to his own surprise. Deuce got spooked by just a knot, imagine him getting the whole package.