Absolutely obsessed with your Simon and legally blind reader! She is a spunky cute little spitfire!! Screw Simon, I think IM in love! 🫶
I, too, adore reader. Have a nibble.
LB!reader Masterlist
Simon rubs at his sternum with the heel of his hand, pressing down with a little too much pressure. It's a poor attempt to quiet the racing of his heart when he sees you shuffle forward towards the copy machine by Soap and akyle's desks on his way to the airfield. His gear rattling quietly on his shoulder and full tac vest. He doesn't normally bump into you on this side of the building.
Your head lifts as he tries to slip past you but you call the softest, "No 'hello', handsome?"
It stops him immediately. Wheels are up in less than five minutes, he should be moving but you chirp his apparent nickname and he's struck. Growing roots through his stone heart and he's utterly powerless to the washing ashore om your beach.
He's plqnting himself directly in front of you before he can stop himself. Your chin tilting up with a confused dip of your brows. He's so close your stuttered breath at his sudden looming flutters his eyelashes as he hunches to study your face.
You can feel the heat of him, he's so close. His scent thick and heady from proximity. "Bein' deployed." He grunts bluntly, the lowest rasp you've heard him utter yet.
"O-oh." Lightheaded at the genuine flicker of disappointment in your face. You're unhappy about him going. "Like right now?"
"Mhmm."
"Don't die."
"Probably will." He doesn't miss the recoil or annoyance on your face.
"Okay, enjoy that, I guess?" A smile cracks his cheek at the reaction he's pulled from you. Like a boy pulling your braids and being met with a smack.
"Ain't gonna give me a kiss before I do?"
First it's shock painting your expression and he want's to kick himself at the HR case that'll be waiting for him.
"Not a chance." You scoff and his heart drops into his stomach. "I only dole those out upon returns."
He scoffs a laugh. "Yeah? I'll hold ya to it."
"Alright, get out of here then, coffee bitch."
It's worth the earful from Price when he ends up late on the tarmac.
Once again bringing up the fact that albinism is always tied to varying degrees of visual impairment. Disability is inherent in our condition and glossing over this (due to ignorance or not) is an act of ableism and fetishisation. Before you create an original character or any sort of fiction you ought to not stick to lazy research. Albinism affects real people, not just animals and social stigma because of our looks is only half of the story. Please do not contribute to a superficial understanding of an already rare and not researched enough condition, happy 10 years of international albinism awareness day.
I feel so grateful for that food pantry delivery for people with disabilities that I called two weeks ago. It was delivered today and it was like a whole grocery order at a major store. I didn't expect that.
I was emotional and almost cried looking at it all. To be taken care of by your community is a vulnerable thing.
TW// one mention of a non-consensual kiss, aside from that nothing but fluff and humour! This idea was based on a snippet from one of @nohugsallowed excellent Matt fics! Thank you again so much for letting me expand on this idea that Matt would love this musical🫶🏻. Spoilers for legally blonde, and legally blonde the musical
In fact, as Foggy Nelson stood before you, having laid his grand plan out on the table, if anybody asked, you’d have said he was batshit insane.
Or it’s what you’d have said before Matt walked in the door.
You open your mouth to speak, or maybe to warn him, but Foggy doesn’t give you that chance.
“Matt!”, he starts, lawyer voice in immediate activation with his presence.
“Just the man I wanted to see.”
His shoes scuffle to a stop, his head tilting on a quirked eyebrow behind his glasses.
“Okay”, he begins, an amused, but wary smirk spreading across his face.
“What are you two up to?”
——————
“No.”
Matt’s face is set firm, his mouth in a tight line, all business, his voice short and clipped.
His partner on the other hand, is an entirely different matter.
“Wha- come on!”, Foggy squawks, arms raised in the air before slapping down on his thighs.
Turning to you, he gestures to your boyfriend in outrage.
“Help me out here!”
You finally release the giggles you’d been holding in since this conversation started.
“Sorry Fog, but I told you he’d say no”, you say wryly, a fond smile tugging at your features.
At this, Matt stands, Foggy immediately following after him and the sight is akin to watching those god-awful sales people that harass innocent bystanders into investing all their money in pyramid schemes.
That image in your mind alone made you snicker.
“But- but-“
“Foggy, when have you ever known me to go to the theatre?”, Matt asks simply, thinking his own logic will win this argument, when-
“You’ll enjoy it!”, Foggy chokes out, his whole body blocking the door after almost vaulting over a desk to get in front of Matt.
“I swear to God, you’ll enjoy it. It’s… legal.”
Matt huffs out in exasperation, but you can tell that he’s thinking about it.
“Legal”, he repeats suspiciously, as if testing how the word sounded aloud.
Foggy’s eyes light up as he realises the loophole he’s unintentionally stumbled upon, before making immediate eye contact with you, a firm stare that says ‘do not blow this for me’.
“Yes! Yes, it’s a- a gripping courtroom drama, about justice and morality and societal expectations, and the trial is about a defendant who is falsely accused of murder due to social prejudice and assumption! You love that kind of stuff!”
You had to admit it, Foggy presented his case very well. Appealing to Matt’s morality and passion for justice was in ingenious move…
And he wasn’t exactly lying.
You see Matt roll his neck back in agitation, a common tell that his mind was working hard. You can also tell that he’s trying to subtly scan Foggy over for deception, which he welcomes with open arms. When he doesn’t find any, he taps his cane in deliberation, the sound like a thumping rabbits foot.
“So… kind of like ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’?”, he asks carefully, and you fight yourself to not audibly coo at the hope in his voice.
Foggy fights himself to not bust a gut laughing.
“Exactly like that.”
You and Foggy wait with bated breath, your eyes flickering towards each other conspiratorially.
Sigh.
“Fine.”
The sudden burst of cheers that erupts from you both startles Matt, his shoulders jolting a little, before relaxing into a soft smile as Foggy rubs at his shoulder, his own grin splitting his face open.
“You’re gonna have a blast”, you say, the smile in your voice evident as you press a kiss to Matt’s cheek.
The three of you start to go about your day, but Matt doesn’t miss the way you hurriedly excuse yourself when he throws his next words over his shoulder.
“This better not be a musical.”
——————
You can’t help but look around you in awe at the incredible seats Foggy had managed to secure for the three of you.
“Disability card”, he says simply, throwing a piece of popcorn in his mouth on a sly smile.
“Why do you think I wanted grumpy guts to come so badly?”
Matt elbows him in the stomach, and you in turn give his arm a light slap.
“Behave, you two”, you joke in his ear. You had seated Matt in the middle of you both, something you’d attested was for his comfort, being walled in with familiar heartbeats and scents.
Really, it was just so he couldn’t escape.
“Sorry, sweetheart”, he murmurs affectionately, leaning in to give you a soft kiss.
You hum against his lips, before his head cocks sharply.
Uh oh.
“There’s an orchestra here. They’re bringing the instruments out of their cases”, he says, voice suspicious, daring you both to come up with a lie that he can finally catch you out on.
Foggy stutters a little, but those two seconds are all you need.
“Every theatre show has an orchestra, honey”, you say breezily.
“For overtures, and such.”
Matt grumbles a little in his seat, shifting restlessly, and Foggy presses his thumb and forefinger in a neat ring, accompanied by an approving nod - nice one.
As the orchestra begins to tune their instruments, you can’t help but smirk to yourself. You knew you couldn’t fool him for much longer, but the fact that you’d gotten him here in the first place made your heart swell with pride, a sneaky sense of joy threatening to bubble up out of your throat.
At long last though, the curtains came down and your luck runs out on the clear boom of a voice from the Gods.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats and prepare for tonight’s performance. We kindly ask you to turn off all cell phones and refrain from speaking or singing along during the show...”
Immediately, Matt’s shoulders tense.
Oh this should be good.
“… Foggy.”
“… And without further ado, we proudly present the cast of Legally Blonde!”
Faster than you can blink, Matt stiffly rises from his seat on a clear of his throat, but you’re both prepared for this. Lightning quick, you and Foggy press a firm hand on each of his shoulders, forcing him to sink back down slowly, a firm scowl planted across his features.
“I cannot believe you-“, Matt starts on a furious whisper, but you just shush him teasingly.
“Show’s starting”, you say, your voice hushed and light as Matt sighs petulantly, arms folded and slumped like a child in his seat.
——————
You had to admit, the first third of the show was rocky.
The chorus of exuberant Delta-Nu’s were obnoxious to Matt’s ears at the absolute best, the melody of the first four songs accompanied by scoffs, or winces, or a rolling of his eyes.
Your favourite number of Act One ends with an explosion of pink glitter, some of which lands on Matt, and he sinks back, defeated in his seat like he’s being put through a natural disaster.
He leans over to Foggy, his voice low in his ear.
“I was promised a courtroom drama”, he mutters indignantly.
“This is a courtroom drama! There was a gavel in the opening number”, he hisses back, on what he believes to be a legitimate argument point.
“There was also an excessive amount of pom-poms”, Matt retorts, his nose crinkling as though the dance number had victimised him personally.
“Justice can have pom-poms!”, Foggy says on a just too loud whisper, earning them a violent ‘shhh’ from the row behind.
“You two are ridiculous”, you say so quietly, you know only Matt can hear. He huffs out an annoyed breath, but when you take his hand in yours, he allows it.
Despite yourself, you smile a little in victory.
He’s not that mad at you.
Where the evening got interesting though, was when Harvard Law came into the picture; his ears perking up, his finger tapping along with ‘Blood in the Water’, a ‘not quite smile’ adorning his features as he murmurs to you that he used to have an old professor just like Callaghan - cut throat, and precise, but ultimately only wants to push you to your best.
Honey, you’ve got a big storm coming.
Foggy is utterly unable to contain his shit eating grin when Matt grazes your elbow, whispering softly,
“So, they’re using musical motifs to track her character development?”
Eyes shining with fondness, you nod softly, unable to contain your joy as you watch him finally start to relax.
“That’s right”, you whisper lightly back to him, watching as he shifts back in his seat, his cheek resting in his hand now in thought.
“Hmm.”
——————
Act Two is where things get dicey again.
Not because Matt wasn’t enjoying himself, in fact entirely the contrary, though he’d deny it. As the setting transforms from Harvard Law to a full blown court case, he is practically on the edge of his seat.
The music has shifted now, the stakes growing alongside the leading lady, everything becoming more mature and assertive. You don’t miss the way Matt’s head tilts in confusion when Brooke Wyndham refuses to give an alibi.
But then-
“She’s protecting someone”, he mutters lowly to you, calm and entirely serious.
You smile, saying nothing.
The next thirty minutes are what can only be described by you as ‘you have to see it to believe it’. Matt’s entire frame locks up with seething rage when the reveal comes around of Callaghans true intentions, the faintest trace of the Devil in his eyes showing as he assaults Elle Woods with a non-consensual kiss right for all the audience to see.
You thought that was bad enough.
But then the cross examination starts.
Matt is completely focused as Elle begins her opening argument. When she stumbles, he winces, but oh, when she starts to succeed?
Matt Murdock is practically vibrating in his seat.
You can see the cogs working in his brain as she unfolds her argument, can see him becoming frustrated with the prosecution, muttering “objection” under his breath several times, to which Foggy reminds him that he literally cannot object to a musical.
“Bad form is bad form”, he mutters back, as if it makes perfect sense for him to do so.
But then, the tension peaks.
The orchestra swells.
Matt listens intently as the classic trap is set in real time: The Perm Argument.
He leans forward, utterly transfixed and, despite not being able to see what is happening, he hears the collective held breath of the audience, the upticks in their pulse.
Excitement.
“She’s laying foundation”, he breathes out, the logic of the argument clicking in his brain and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was in awe.
Beside you both, Foggy cannot take his eyes off Matt, completely unable to believe what he is seeing.
As the audience bursts into applause and gasps, cheering for Elle as she wins her case, Matt puffs out a slow, satisfied breath, almost a whistle.
“That was clean”, he says and Foggy sounds like he’s been strangled.
“Oh my god. Oh my GOD. He likes it!”
Matt makes a noise that is somewhere between a scoff and a stammer, entirely offended at Foggy’s outrageous accusation.
“I just appreciate good litigation”, he says defensively.
“You’re smiling!”, Foggy argues, his voice giddy with delight as he points in Matt’s face.
“I am not!”
And once again, from the row behind:
Shhh!
——————
As you exit the theatre, Matt distractedly brushes your knuckles, his face warm and relaxed and Foggy stares at you both like he’s witnessed a genuine miracle.
“So…”, you begin, your voice light and teasing as you press a kiss to Matt’s scarred knuckles.
He sighs.
And then he smiles.
“It wasn’t awful”, he concedes, and you figure that’s the best you’re gonna get.
But then, after just a moment, he leans down to you, a tiny moment of privacy as he murmurs softly,
“The cross examination was pretty impressive.”
“I know”, you say coolly, as if you’d known all along that he’d love it.
All at once, as if remembering what his stance on musicals is supposed to be, he straightens a little, the heat rising to his cheeks.
“But if you tell anyone I said that-“
You cut him off with a kiss right over where the blush colours his face.
From behind you both, Foggy makes a delighted noise, and on a reluctant smile, Matt bows his head in defeat.
As the crisp air of Autumn in New York hits the three of you, you begin your walk back to Hell’s Kitchen, and Foggy tries his luck just one more time.
“So, I was thinking next week, we could all go and see Wicked-“
“No.”
——————
Three Days Later:
You enter the office of Nelson Murdock and Page to chaotic conversation coming from Matt’s office.
You’re hesitant to enter at first, their voices overlapping and you think they must be arguing over the details of an important case.
But then you hear it.
From the calamity of voices, Matt’s rings out clear as a bell:
“No- no, Karen, you’re not hearing me, she already had a 4.0 average!”
Your body freezes by the desk.
Surely not.
Cautiously, you nudge the door open and take in the sight.
Foggy is folded over in Matt’s chair, cheeks beet red from wheezing, his laugh utterly unintelligible whilst Karen and Matt argue.
“I get it Matt, but-“
“No, no, no, listen to me, Karen!”, he interrupts as his hand waves around wildly.
You can’t help the way your mouth drops open in shock.
“They said she wasn’t serious enough for law school, and they make it a whole big deal when she becomes “serious”, but she got into Harvard because she was already smart!”
He is arguing this point as seriously as though it was his own defendant on trial, and you and Foggy and Karen make eye contact at the exact same time, her eyes tired and weary.
“Okay”, she says on a huff.
“You two are never allowed to take him to the theatre again.”
i don't think people take me too serious when i say i'm legally blind. Like, guys I am legally never allowed to drive, I need assistance with a lot of stuff because I can't see. People both irl and online tend to be like "oh but you're not THAT BAD OFF" it's not a thing of whether my eyes are "that bad off" it doesn't matter, they're still blind. i still use magnifying and screen readers. i'm learning braille because my eyes are getting progressively worse and I'd like to be able to still read.
I may not be totally blind, but that's the thing, a lot of blind people AREN'T Totally blind. Blindness is a spectrum. and i don't think a lot of people realize that. And I'm just as valid in my blindness as someone on the spectrum with better eyesight than me, or someone with worse.
(This is OK to reblog. I hope that sighted people who might read this really get it into their heads that blindness is a spectrum...)
