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ephemeralgalaxies · 3 years ago

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Loki Ep4 Spoilers (again)

TL;DR Mobius is a jealous loner desperate for a connection to heal his own broken self, but for all the crap he gives Loki about not being able to trust others and putting up walls, he's just as terrified of being known and then left behind.

Would just like to take note once again on Mobius refusing to listen to Loki, for once not being able to tell apart (on the surface) what are lies and what's the truth because Loki has done the impossible-- learned to love himself (kinda). For once, this is a part of Loki's life that Mobius doesn't get to witness, and it breaks him. He can't spend weeks analyzing each little tell, it's all right there in the moment. It's a different Loki than he's ever known. Before, in ep1, Mobius knew exactly what to say to get answers out of Loki-- he's studied this. But now? Now Loki is a regular, real person (in a sense... TVA is kinda weird in their "is this technically a part of reality") that went through another traumatic event without Mobius watching alongside. He's scared and doesn't trust himself. He's jumping to conclusions, he's pushing down all his typical questions, coming off harsher, less patience.

And then when he realizes that Loki has learned to care for/love Sylvie (in whatever way that is, this Loki has never truly loved anyone before-- always holding back in fear), it throws out everything he's ever known about Loki out the window. He is changing, not just into someone the TVA can use, but rather into a person of his own. And Mobius doesn't know how to process that immediately, instead resorting to trying to embarrass Loki about his "crush" on Sylvie, lashing out on idea of them forming a romantic relationship because Loki couldn't even form a proper friendship with him (in his mind, especially after Loki leaves the Supermarket with Sylvie in ep2).

He's getting jealous, defensive, angry. The only other time we've seen him remotely this "not-calm" was earlier in ep2 when Hunter B-15 instructs Loki to come with her instead. (my god, he really is just so jealous) (to be fair, though, his closest friend is a lying back-stabber who gives the order to prune him, so... not like this version of Mobius is really in the healthiest environment to begin with...)

And the fact that he just won't let go with that, freaking "I don't need you anymore... or as you might say, 'our interests are no longer aligned.'" Like, I'm sorry but that is a sure petty jab at Loki for choosing Sylvie and this "variant life" over staying and helping him at the TVA (as he's still refusing to believe that they are all variants like Loki/Sylvie say). Especially adding "Yeah, I guess you don't do partners. Unless, of course, it benefits you and you intend to betray them at some point," and "Why? Cause I lied about your 'girlfriend'?"

LIKE SIR. IM TRYING TO MAKE THIS A SERIOUS POST AND IM CRYING WHILE WATCHING BUT I JUST KEEP LAUGHING AT HIS RESPONSES BECAUSE THEY'RE KILLING ME JUST HOW HURT HE IS BECAUSE LOKI FINALLY LEARNED TO LOVE SOMEONE AND HE WASN'T A PART OF IT. BECAUSE LOKI LEFT HIM IN ORDER TO BE "HAPPY", THIS WHOLE JOURNEY FOR MOBIUS-- PROBABLLY HIS BIGGEST CASE --JUST BURNT OUT, ENDING LIKE THAT. ALL HOPES OF "SAVING THE BROKEN THINGS", THAT "SCARED LITTLE BOY SHIVERING IN THE COLD" GONE BECAUSE HE NEVER REALLY NEEDED MOBIUS. BECAUSE LOKI (EVEN SYLVIE) COULD BE HAPPY ON THEIR OWN. THEY DIDN'T NEED TO BE THE VILLAIN, TO CAUSE PAIN AND DESTRUCTION AND DEATH. THEY COULD MAKE THEIR OWN LIVES.

And if they could do that... then how good is the TVA, truly?

So instead, he has to twist this, find some way to be repulsed by Loki's development-- "this kind of sick, twisted romantic relationship" because how dare Mobius, even for a second, think that maybe there is more to this relationship between Loki and Sylvie than an "incredible seismic narcissist" only ever being able to fall in love with himself? To look in the reflection and see beauty-- not in the dagger and what it's bond, it's craft, it's story means, but rather in the image mirrored back through that love. The person loving, not the existence of love itself. That's why it stabs you in the back, that's why the metaphor failed, because at the time, Loki didn't understand real love, romantic, familial, platonic, or self. He cared for his mother, but he failed her-- he lost her. He always pushed her away enough to keep himself safe, never truly feeling it all. But with Sylvie? it's different. Sylvie understands him. Sylvie, in some ways, is him. Of course he has to learn to love her, to appreciate all she has accomplished despite her struggles. He has to love her so that he can understand that he, too, deserves love. If Sylvie, with the same childhood and parents as him, with trauma and blood on her hands like him, that same desperate attempt to be alone in order to save themselves from being abandoned... if he knows she is worthy of love and happiness, then why can't he be as well? Why does he always have to be alone?

And then when Mobius tells him that Sylvie's been pruned, it destroys him-- he's alone again. Because he can never return to his timeline, never have that Ragnarok bond with his brother, be a true Odinson, avenge his mother. Sylvie is dead-- the one person that could possibly love him because she was him and he's a narcissist (in his own words). Mobius no longer believes him, can no longer see through the lies, too blinded by his own rage and fear and pain. Loki, once again, has no one (the fact that you can pinpoint the exact moment he realizes all this too, ep4 23:06, while Mobius continues to brush his warnings aside and rant on Loki and Sylvie).

"Well, I'm gonna have to close this case now, 'cause I don't need you anymore."

And so, he takes one last jab at Mobius--

"Out of all the liars in this place, and there are a great many, you are the biggest."

M: "Why? 'Cause I lied about your girlfriend?" Because I told you she was dead, because you were terrified, because you don't know how to go on without her?

L: "Oh, no. That I can respect." Ofc you would, that's your job, get information out of me. Manipulate me into thinking I can trust you because you don't trust me enough to let me tell you on my own. Because everything I do is out of my own interest. Of course you would lie about that, so would I. "I mean the lies you tell yourself."

You refuse to believe me now, to think that I could care for you as well, that I am capable of more than loving myself or a version of me. That maybe, for once, I'm not just trying to look out for myself. That maybe knowing that you're trapped here after believing you actually had free will, to learn that no one in this universe-- this sick, twisted timeline --actually has free will. Please believe me, please let me help. I didn't give up on Sylvie, I won't give up on you if you just give me time.

Anyways, this episode absolutely destroyed me

#loki spo #loki series #loki ep4 #loki #mcu loki #mobius #mobius m mobius #sylvie #mobius actually owns my heart #I swear I do love him #being petty and jealous is human nature #but dear god it's fun to psychoanalyze him #lokius #sylkie #(is that the ship name??)#wowki #still don't know why I like this one as a ship name im--

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ootori-sibs · 4 years ago

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Kyoya's second shot

Episode eleven: Kyoya's adventures in hate!

Tw: self harm, self hate, starving (mentioned)

What time was it? What day was it? Kyoya couldn't answer any of those, he was sitting in the bath, there was no water. He had tears running down his face, biting his lip as he took another slash at his tight, the blade gripped tightly in his fingers. There was blood at the bottom of the bath, there was blood on his fingers, it was his own blood though, so it was all ok. It had been a while since he'd had an intrusive thought, but he'd imagined the blood as someone else's in that moment, likely Haruhi's now he thought more about it- he always finds himself exploring intrusive thoughts before pushing them away, and even then little details nag at him, begging to be rationalised, made more realistic. If Kyoya would hurt anyone it would probably be her, but he wouldn't, so he was only hurting himself tonight.

Cut

Slash

Cut

He always struggled with the cutting, though the aftermath was the best part, starting was terrifying and impulsive, and the act was just painful- though cathartic and wonderful. He wondered how long he'd spent making cuts tonight, last time he'd spent maybe an hour? He was never sure, he didn't time himself, he feared the ticking of the clock would only make him more frantic. So he sat in silence as he made the cuts; one for his leg, one for his arm, and switch sides… he was left handed, so the scars on the left arm were always more sporadic and messy, he wasn't sure how to remedy this.

Cut

Slash

He didn't really have a system, but he wanted each side to be equal, if he could focus on that instead of the fact that Tamaki knew… Tamaki knew. He'd figured out why Kyoya had the corset so tight- why Kyoya had his tie so tight, he'd asked if the starvation was on purpose too… it wasn't, but how long until Tamaki realised there were scars? How long until Kyoya broke his promise? How long until Tamaki hated him? How long until-

Slash

Kyoya let out a sigh as one cut dug slightly deeper then he'd intended, he did his best to avoid getting too hurt, he wanted the scars to heal quickly after all- what if someone found out? Fiyumi and Yuuichi always got so worried when they found recent cuts, it really wasn't fair- it was Kyoya's body wasn't it? Why should they care what he does to it? He'd say he hated them but he didn't hate them, he could never hate them, they were his siblings and he craved their affection, attention and praise, things he knew they'd give so willingly if he asked, but he could never find the words, he could never ask for anything, ever.

Cut

Slash

Kyoya wasn't one to every ask for anything, especially not help, he knew he needed help, it was obvious: he was self-harming, he was depressed, he was spiralling, he kept breaking down, he wasn't eating, he simply wasn't very happy, but he couldn't ask for help- that would be surrendering. He would have all the happiness and health he needed the day he could kiss Tamaki, the day he could hold his hand and not be worried about what Haruhi would say- because Haruhi would be disgraced and Tamaki would be his. That was all Kyoya wanted, love. Was that so wrong?

Cut

He was slowing down now, he'd been at this for a while and his arms and legs were quite bloody, he should probably stop. He gave himself one last scar on his right arm, before placing the blade down on his sink, then he slowly stood up, reaching to grab the shawer head, he took it and sat back down, rinsing all his cuts off with cold water, until most of the blood was off of himself and in the bath. He then got out of the bath, grabbing the bandages kept in the first aid kit, making sure to wrap them tight, but not so tight around his thighs because that got uncomfortable at times. He picked his book up and… oh dear, he'd gotten blood on the book. He took his finger, using the blood to at least make his sketch more realistic- he couldn't wash paper after all, that would dissolve it.

He left the bathroom, glancing at the window, oh it was nighttime, wonderful. Kyoya made his way to his bed, passing the table and pausing for a moment, there was some uneaten food there, he must have forgotten to eat dinner. He sighed, sitting down to pick at the cold pie. It wasn't enjoyable persay, but the food did make him feel better, maybe next time he'd even get to the food when it's hot. God, he couldn't believe that sort of thing was a maybe, he really was pathetic huh? He sighed, checking his clock- he had no idea where his phone was.

2:04 - Just got out of the bath, didn't bathe though, did some cutting. Ate dinner, it was pie, it was cold. Feeling a lot of hate; mostly for myself, a little bit for Haruhi too.

God, Haruhi was awful. Theoretically she'd done absolutely nothing wrong, but in truth she was awful; she'd stormed into a social ecosystem where she did not belong, took the hottest guy in school after Kyoya had called dibs- not to mention how she'd constantly berated the poor king constantly the year before, and now they were in love? Kyoya didn't fucking buy it, no sir. Tamaki was just in love with the idea of common folk, and Haruhi was a vessel to channel that through, not that Tamaki realised that- as much as Kyoya adored him, Tamaki wasn't smart enough to psychoanalyze himself.

He hated the twins too, their first instinct was to stand up for Haruhi, when she wasn't even anything like them. Hikaru was horribly crude and rude and judgmental and Kaoru just went along with whatever Hikaru or Haruhi said- not to mention they'd both laughed at him the day prior.

Honey wasn't much better, sure he acted all sweet and innocent, pretending to be caring whilst he dug his nails in, right where it hurt. He always knew what to say to get the conversation moving in just the wrong direction, and acted like he had no idea, Kyoya just hated that cutesy facade so much. Honey could display that much weakness, because he actually had strengths to back it up with, Kyoya only had weaknesses.

Mori was another one who made Kyoya's blood boil, how dare he stay so quiet, why can't he just shout how he's feeling like the other hosts? And he's so hot when he actually does stuff, he should remind people he's more than just Honey's prop more often. But he never speaks up, not in defence nor against any host, and it was awful, didn't he know they were all friends? How can he just sit there and watch? Kyoya needed someone on his side and he just sat there- Mori's a voice of reason, he could have stopped Haruhi, but he didn't. For that reason, Kyoya hates him.

But how could he say such things about his wonderful friends? He hates himself so much more. He's a horrible friend after all, absolutely terrible, he'd turn against then all if it meant he could be with Tamaki. But friends don't do that, what kind of a friend is he? He feels horrible at the very idea of hurting his friends- it's only Haruhi towards whom he feels no remorse, she brought it upon herself. She did ask if he was alright when he was so stressed, she always made sure he was alright, she did so with all the hosts… she was so caring and that made Kyoya hate her even more, because she made him look like the bad guy, she made him feel horrible for hating her, what kind of a friend does that? She should be rude, she should accept her role and let Kyoya be the good guy for once. It's so unfair, she can't be the hero for the second year in a row- let someone else have a go. But Kyoya wasn't very heroic, was he? The council sure showed the contrary- god, he hated the council, every last member.

Eclair was obvious, Kyoya hated her because she almost stole Tamaki, but also she was pretentious, older than he was by like- a year, she hated him too do the feeling was very mutual. She was a horrible, business orientated person… and so was he.

Umehito, he was the magic man. He was a coward, to let his fear of light cripple him like that, Kyoya has a fear of intimacy but you don't see him screaming anytime someone gets close. He believes in magic, which is stupid and immature, Kyoya knows magic isn't real, wishes and dreams never come true, and the only curse is the burdens you place on other people. So Kyoya hated him, it was as simple as that.

Chika was a child, Kyoya hated children. The idea of responsibility scared him especially when it was more than just numbers he was responsible, so having a child in the council was a scary thought, even if Chika is supposed to be the muscle of the group. He's unbelievably rude too, for a child he knows an awful lot of swear words, Kyoya would have a word with Honey if that didn't mean admitting to having a council. There was also the fact he saw a lot of himself in Chika; a small, younger sibling, who despises his elders for being better than him, and pushes himself to horrible extremes because of this, never factoring age into the equation, hating any ounce of fun an older sibling has whilst still being the favourite… Kyoya hated Chika because he hated himself.

Akira was exactly what his nickname implied: a bitchboy. Kyoya had always thought him quite slimy, but had decided he hated him when Akira had tried to expose Tamaki for things Tamaki could never do in a million years. Now behaving like a child and calling Kyoya slurs? That was just extra reasons to hate Akira, not to mention his general aura made Kyoya highly uncomfortable.

Seika was a bitch, plain and simple. She was Tamaki's favourite guest before she was banned, and Kyoya had hated her for a long time because of this, he hated her when she bullied Haruhi- back when Haruhi was still new, and he hated her now for being so cruel to him in the group chat. Slurs weren't fun and neither was calling anyone a whore. To be fair, Kyoya would hate her without all of that because let's face it; she's an absolute bitch with terrible hair and an even worse attitude.

And Arai… he was poor? Kyoya couldn't really think of any good reason to hate Arai, which was odd, because Kyoya hated people quite easily. He hadn't paid much attention during the online meeting, and during the first meeting he had spoken out against Kyoya's plans, so that was one reason to hate him; insubordination. He wasn't anything special but that wasn't much reason to hate him. He'd insulted Kyoya when offering help, how dare he assume Kyoya wasn't perfectly ok! He'd… he'd offered Kyoya help, and a willing ear…

Kyoya Ootori: Have you been talking to Haruhi?

He didn't know what he was doing, but at least he had an excuse to be messaging Arai at, what? Three am? He sighed and stood up, heading to bed. At least his bed cared for him, he didn't hate his bed… He was just getting in when he heard his phone buzz.

Peasant: why? Was I supposed to?

He… actually responded? What was he doing up this late? Was this a good reason to hate him?

Kyoya Ootori: Well no, but you could have been.

What are you doing up at three am anyway?

Peasant: what are *you* doing up at three am?

Oh, he had him there actually, Kyoya couldn't really think of any good excuse, so he sighed and answered the most generic and foolproof answer.

Kyoya Ootori: I couldn't sleep.

Peasant: oh wierd, me neither dude

ive just been doing homework for the past three hours

Kyoya Ootori: Oh? So you're busy at the moment then?

He couldn't tell you why he felt a pang of disappointment, maybe he was actually going to reach out for someone… maybe he wanted to talk.

Peasant: nah not really, just got done i think

why? You wanna talk?

Kyoya Ootori: Possibly, I find myself unable to fall asleep, though I don't have any homework to occupy my time.

Peasant: ohh, thoughts keeping you up?

Kyoya Ootori: It appears so.

Peasant: you can talk to me man, i dont judge

Kyoya Ootori: Could you compile a list of character flaws? I don't know you well enough to hate you.

Peasant: wh- are you trying to hate me? Why?

Kyoya Ootori: I hate every other member of the council, it's only fair.

Peasant: i mean i can see why you hate them but if you hate someone you shouldn't spend time with them bro, why are they even on your council?

Kyoya Ootori: Because they were useful, emotions cannot be involved with business.

Peasant: i mean this in the nicest possible way: youre not running a business, youre trying to take someones man

Kyoya Ootori: I saw him first, it's not my fault she doesn't respect that I liked him before she even knew he existed.

Peasant: we already went over this, you cant call dibs on a person

you should have asked him out if you really wanted him

Kyoya Ootori: And I already told you: I thought he was straight.

Peasant: then why would you call dibs on a straight dude?

Kyoya… had never considered that. Why had he called dibs? He supposed he hadn't, he just never thought he'd ever feel challenged, never thought Tamaki would ever date anyone. But when he found out Tamaki was bi it was too late…

Kyoya Ootori: Change of topic then, what homework have you been doing?

Peasant: mostly maths, i struggle with it

what have you been up to this whole time if not homework?

Kyoya Ootori: Other than eating my food, I cannot say.

Just know that it isn't anything you couldn't mention in polite company.

Peasant: ok but i think it might be

spill

im betting its either sex or self harm

hope its the first one

not cause of a weird reason or anything though

Kyoya Ootori: Well I certainly don't find myself sleeping around at all.

He'd said it, oh god he'd said it. He'd just admitted to self harm, to someone he barely knew, was this good? Was this asking for help? This was a good thing right?

Peasant: dude… self harm??

oh fuck man

are you ok??

i mean, obviously not

but like

are you safe?

Arai's immediate response was care- worry, but care. Yet he barely knew Kyoya, how could he care like that? It was… entirely alien to Kyoya.

Kyoya Ootori: I am safe, I have cleaned and bandaged everything I need to.

Peasant: so you wanna talk about it?

this is why youre here isnt it?

im here for you man

Kyoya Ootori: Unfortunately emotions are not my strong suit, and I was not aware it was possible to get this far.

He may as well be brutally honest, since he'd already opened up this far. The worst that could happen was Arai hating him.

Peasant: alright, youre very brave to reach out to anyone, even in a small way

i want you to remember that

now do you want a distraction? A solution?

maybe even a phone call?

Kyoya Ootori: I couldn't possibly trouble you for the latter, and the second opinion is already something I am in the process of figuring out, a distraction would be wonderful if you are willing to provide one.

Peasant: of course!!

i could tell a story, or walk you through some fun puzzles, or maybe something else, idk, its up to you

Kyoya Ootori: I would be fascinated to hear any stories you have to tell.

#tamakyo #ouran high school host club #kyoyassecondshot #kyoya ootori #ohshc arai #ohshc #tw self harm #Second

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attackpunk · 5 years ago

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Mayhem and Matrimony, Chapter One

Rating: Explicit, but not until future chapters, Pairings: Batman/Joker, Warnings: none

I will be posting more of this if people are interested, so leave a comment and a reblog why dontcha?

It was never sunny in Gotham. In fact, it was hardly ever daytime. Nights always seemed unusually long, and when the morning did deign to arrive, it always came with an entourage of clouds. This was the way that all Gothamites preferred to live. If they wanted sunlight, they would have lived in Metropolis (and Metropolis was just too… metropolitan for any respectable Gothamite).

Unfortunately, the Joker was not a respectable Gothamite. He was not a respectable anything, and he quite liked it that way. The Joker loved sunlight. He loved warm breezes and balmy afternoons. If it weren’t for a few choice superheroes, he would have moved to Metropolis long ago. Yet he stayed. His philosophy was that Gotham had character. Everything in Metropolis was pre-packaged and plastic wrapped, much like their god-like Boy Scout, but Gotham had life. And of course, Gotham had his beloved Bat.

Joker prided himself on being a psychopath, even a sociopath- yet when it came to the Bat, his heart melted. Nay, it soared. If only Batsy felt the same way. Actually, scratch that, if only Batsy realized that he felt the same way. Then everything would be tickety-boo.Joker surveyed his surroundings and smiled. Everything was going perfectly. A stunt like this was not only expensive, stylish, and daring, it was also a declaration. He wanted to see how much he could push his Bat, and if he got a happily ever after in the process? Well, then it would be a win-win!

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harley skating towards him with a clipboard.

“Everything’s ready, boss,” she trilled happily, chewing her bubblegum. She held the clipboard out to him,“Just need you to sign these terms and conditions and we’ll be on our way.”“Perfect, dollface, just perfect!” Joker said, clapping his hands together. He felt like a schoolgirl getting ready for prom night. Only with more murderous intent. Or maybe not. It all rested on Batsy.

He made his way over to the car he was going to be riding into the GCPD. It was one of his trademarks, a purple Lamborghini with green accents. It was garish, grotesque, and altogether way too expensive to have any kind of quality or class. He loved it. Getting in, he wondered just how this would all play out. Fuck, was he nervous?

No. Obviously not. The Joker, the scourge of Gotham, did not get nervous over a boy. Not even one that he was madly in love with. One that he would do almost anything for. But what if…

No! He was not going to think about things going wrong. Batsy would see reason. He had to. Or Gotham’s streets would run red with blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne was a little bitch. At least, that’s what Batman thought. Nevermind the fact that he was Bruce Wayne; that was a technicality. No, in his civilian persona he chose to be a little bitch. It diverted suspicion away from what he spent most of his waking nights doing. And yet, he felt… empty. Like something was missing. Maybe he spent too much time as Bruce Wayne. Or maybe it was the opposite. Anyways, he was headed to the GCPD to be a public disturbance. Of course, he would be a calculated public disturbance. The real reason for his trip to the GCPD was to gather intel. Gordon had come to him about a potential mole in the precinct, and had asked him to discreetly monitor the officers. Batman was not discreet. Neither was Bruce Wayne, but at least no one knew that Bruce Wayne could sucker punch them into oblivion.

So that was the reason why Alfred was driving them into the grey, grey city in a black, black car, dodging traffic and politely cursing the absolute atrocities that were committed by the drivers of Gotham on the daily.

Of course, it was just their luck that when they arrived it was absolute chaos. Bruce was not a betting man, but he was willing to bet the entirety of Wayne Enterprises that the Joker was behind it. It would make sense. The Joker was a psychopath, with no moral compass to speak of. Or, Bruce thought, perhaps he had too much of a moral compass.

Gotham cops, and even cops in general, were not the most compassionate of creatures. Maybe this was the Joker’s twisted sense of justice. But it was not his job to psychoanalyze his arch-nemesis. Although, it wasn’t like the shrinks at Arkham were doing a good job of it.

Bruce shook himself. Gotham needed him; what was he doing thinking about the Joker’s motivations? That sort of thinking was reserved for the Batcave, and if Bruce were being completely honest with himself, his bed. Now was not the time.

“Alfred,” he said, voice slipping so naturally into that gravelly growl, “Is there a Batsuit anywhere close to here?”

Alfred glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

“Sir, do you even have to ask? I would have thought you had every location of every Batsuit memorized.”

“I’m a Bat, Alfred, not a computer,” Bruce replied dryly.

“I have one in the trunk, sir. Should I drive towards the nearest safehouse? Or mayhaps an alley?”

“Alley will be fine. Our main priority is protecting the people.”

Then, somehow, impossibly, things got even weirder. Well, perhaps not so weird for Gotham, but definitely weird by literally anybody else’s standards. The Joker was on a pedestal, rising above the chaos below like an angel. An angel in a wedding dress wielding a flamethrower.

Miles away, Superman heard a chorus of “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck” from Gotham. That was a rare occurrence; nobody in Gotham was disturbed by anything. Until now. Clark paused. Should he go investigate? No, Batman probably had things under control. Besides, he thought, punching a robot, he had his own problems.

Back in Gotham, the Joker was having a roaring time at the GCPD. Everybody was confused and hysterical, which was just the way he liked it. He signaled to Harley, who turned on the speakers attached to the trucks his henchmen had ridden in.

“Good morning, Gotham!” he yelled, his voice amplified by the lapel mic on his breast, “Are y’all having a lovely time?”

“No!” the people of Gotham yelled back, on fire and spiteful.

“Well, alright then. Would you like all of this mayhem to stop?”

“Yes?” yelled the people of Gotham, on fire and suspicious.

“Well then I only ask for one thing, dear Gothamites. I want…” Joker paused. Make them wait for it…

“Batman’s hand in marriage!”

Boom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Batman in question was halfway through putting on the Batsuit when he heard the shocking declaration. Now, Batman of course did not freeze in shock. The only time Batman was frozen was when Mr. Freeze scored a lucky hit. What he was currently doing was… analyzing the situation. While not moving. With his mind completely blank. It certainly did not take Alfred getting out of the car and slapping him across the face to get him to move again. It was five minutes before Batman burst onto the scene of the decimated GCPD, and everything was still on fire. Fucking typical. Only now the Joker was using his flamethrower (was it bedazzled?) to burn down the entire precinct. And the firefighters were trying to get through a blockade of stolen, armored trucks.

“Fuck,” Bruce whispered under his breath. Then he said it a little louder for good measure. Joker was speaking again, having caught sight of him.

“Batsy, my darling, did you hear my proposal? You marry me, and I’ll stop terrorizing Gotham!”

“Over my dead body. You’re insane!” Batman shouted back, though he was barely audible above the sounds of general mayhem.

“Maybe so, but this is an offer that’s too good to pass up, don’tcha think?”

Bruce stopped and thought about it. Personal sacrifice had never meant anything to him. He had given up any semblance of a normal life the moment he put on the cowl. And marriage to the Joker came with an end to his reign of terror. Who knew when an offer like this would come again? And, who knew what the Joker’s retaliation would be if he refused? Oh, fuck. Was he really doing this?

He was. He found himself scaling the demolished precinct, trying to get up to the Joker’s level. Or, metaphorically, stooping down to it. Either way, soon he found himself standing on the Joker’s pedestal, gazing upon him in all his wedding dress and flamethrower glory. Fuck, he was beautiful.

Wait, did he really just think that? Well, said a tiny, sarcastic part of his brain, he is your future husband. Oh, fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I accept your proposal,” Batman growled at him, looking both angry and nervous at the same time. Damn, that was a look. Wait, did Batsy just say yes? Joker gaped in shock. He hadn’t actually expected this to work. Batsy looked nervous, and Joker would bet his entire criminal empire that he did too. God, they really were a pair of idiots, weren’t they?

“Hey, boss!” Harley shouted up to them.

“Oh, thank God,” he and Batsy said. In unison.

“Wow, we’re practically an old married couple already, Batsy!” Joker joked as they watched Harley get closer to them, dragging a harried justice of the peace behind her.

“Don’t push it,” Batman warned, a tic forming in his jaw.

“Alright, my love,” Joker purred. Oh, this could be rather fun. He’d be able to mess with his Bat as much as he wanted once they were married. Which would be very soon. Oh wow. He and Batsy would be married. As in, till death do us part.

Or maybe not. The Justice of the peace had apparently broken free of Harley's grasp, and was now taking to the hills along with the rest of the populace. Smart guy, Joker thought. Or not, since Harley appeared to be in pursuit.

"So, we're getting… married right now? You're not going to try and court me first?" Batsy said, and was it the Joker's imagination or did he look put out? Well, that simply would not do. He only wanted the best for his Bat.

"Why, Batsy, what do you call all of our midnight trysts?" he replied, hoping to assuage his beloved.

"You consider trying to kill each other foreplay?" And oh, wow, was that a bit of sardonic humor in Batsy's voice?

"Why, yes I do! Would you rather I took you out to dinner? I, ah, don't quite think that would be received all too well, Bruce Wayne in a fancy restaurant with the Joker. People might talk."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce gaped.

"How the hell do you know who I am? And why the hell did you say that so loud! Isn't your mic still running? Oh my fucking God, what is wrong with- wait, no, that's a stupid question," Bruce was well aware that he was rambling, but it was definitely justified because his insane arch-nemesis knew his secret identity!

"Relax, baby, I already disabled the mic. And it wasn't that hard to figure out your 'secret identity.' Bruce Wayne is the only person in Gotham with enough money to fund this kind of endeavor and a tragic enough backstory to warrant it. I'm insane, not an idiot," Joker said.

Bruce relaxed, if only slightly. This could actually work to his advantage, if he played his cards right (pun intended). Joker had never come after him in his civilian persona. Maybe that was a sign of trust between them? Bruce mentally shook himself. How could he ever trust the Joker?

You’re trusting him enough to marry him, that sadistic voice inside him whispered.

“Oh, motherfucker,” Bruce groaned, feeling a headache coming on.

“What’s wrong, dearest?” Joker asked, looking for all the world like a concerned bride-to-be, and wasn’t that a scary thought?

“What the fuck do you think is wrong, Joker, I’m marrying an insane clown with a penchant for extravagant murder sprees,” he snapped. This situation was getting too ridiculous even for Gotham, they were thirty feet in the air and the Joker was wearing a wedding dress. He was allowed to be a little angry. Angry at what, he didn’t know. Angry at the world, the Joker, himself; it was all the same thing.

He found himself staring at the Joker, almost accusingly. Though Bruce was loath to admit it, Joker did look stunning.

“Batsy, not to alarm you, but we have a wedding to...perform? Do? Is that the right word? Either way we’re getting hitched. Come on, you can look at me during the honeymoon, God, this corset is tight.”

Joker lowered the platform they had been standing on, which really was too small for two grown men, and began to walk towards his Lamborghini, Bruce awkwardly following him.

"Where are we going?" Bruce found himself asking against his better judgement.

"To where the ceremony is being held. Did you really think I'd marry you in the ruins of a police station? Not really my, ah, style, wouldn't you say?"

Bruce had to admit he was right. Joker's style was much more… gauche. It was something to be appreciated. Almost.

They approached the car, Joker sliding easily into the driver's seat. Bruce walked around to the passenger side, feeling vulnerable.

Christ, he was getting married. To his arch-nemesis. That was knowledge that would probably never sink in fully. How was this his life? He was in a car, a Lamborghini no less, with the Joker driving them to their wedding. Their fucking wedding. Bruce was panicked. No, no; not panicked. Batman did not get panicked. He was a calm, collected figure of justice, and he should damn well act like it. That didn't stop his stomach from twisting into knots. God, he really was like a bride on her wedding day.

Would Joker expect them to consummate their marriage? Ice flooded his veins. Bruce may be into men and women, but he had never once had relations with another man. He had fantasized, of course, imagined strong hands on his hips and a thick cock in his ass, but he had never acted upon the desires that left him tangled in his sheets, panting. But now… he was getting married. And the Joker was a man. Who was most likely in love with him, however much sense that made. Maybe now…

No. He would not submit to the scourge of Gotham for something as base as desire. He never had, and never would. But would he if it were for the good of Gotham? What if this was the only way to save his city? Joker had promised to stop his villainous ways if Bruce accepted his proposal, and he had. Wouldn't such a union between them, however complicated, ultimately do only good? And perhaps, if he played his cards right, he would never have to sleep with the Joker.

The bastard part of his brain told him that this was bullshit. He happily ignored that part of his brain and stared at the Joker. The white of his wedding dress was almost paler than his skin, and the purple accents were entirely typical, yet also somehow… alluring. The dress was sleeveless, and Bruce spent five minutes trying to figure out what laws of physics allowed it to stay in place. Eventually he realized that Joker was wearing a corset that had to be crushing his ribs. Bruce wanted, for just a moment, to take it off of him. To loosen the vice that had to be uncomfortable, had to be unpleasant. To ease, to soothe. That thought, that want, scared him more than anything else that had happened today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things were going perfectly. Almost too perfectly. Surely it couldn't be this easy? Joker wasn't paranoid, but surely Batman had something up his gauntleted sleeve. He always did. Batman may have been one of the smartest people on the planet, but he was also about as observant as a brick wall. There was absolutely no way in hell that Batsy had realized his feelings that fast.

Oh god, this was a sacrifice play, wasn't it? Instead of actually confronting his feelings, he was rationalizing what he was doing. Well. That certainly would not do.

They had arrived at the venue, chosen specifically for its sentimentality. It was the Gotham Bank, specifically the rooftop. He glanced at the Bat, trying to gauge his reaction. He had become rather good at reading his expressions, even concealed as he was under the cowl.

Batman, no, Bruce, was speechless. For a moment, anyways.

“This-this was where we first met,” he said, softly, almost reverent. Joker felt something in his chest give way and shatter. Bruce liked it. He had done well. He smiled, a soft thing, so unlike his usual, mania-induced grin. He looked at Bruce, who was looking at him. This was the man he loved. This was the man he was going to give up villainy for. This was the man he was going to marry. He had never been so sure of anything. Goddamnit, he was in love with Bruce Wayne, the Bat of Gotham, and he was going to shout it from the rooftops. Literally. He offered his arm to his Bat.

"Shall we?"

Batman hesitated, only for a fraction of a second, but then he took Joker's arm, and up they went.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was going absolutely perfectly. They were scaling the Gotham Bank, with him in Batsy’s arms. Thank god he didn’t mention the staircase that led up to the roof. Or, thank god that Batsy knew about the staircase and didn’t want to use it anyways. Either way, everything was working out absolutely fantastically. He rather liked being pressed close to Bruce, arms around that strong, bulky frame, so unlike his wiry one, and Harley’s voluptuous curves. Batman was solid. It was nice.

When they finally reached the roof, he found his surprise for Batsy waiting for them. All of their friends were there. His bridesmaids- Harley, her wife Ivy, and Selina- were stunning in their violet dresses. He had taken the liberty of, ah, not exactly kidnapping, but rather… violently persuading the various Batboys to act as the groomsmen. They looked murderous, which was not ideal, but he could work with it. At least he didn't have to gag them. And really, they could get out of their handcuffs easily. He had seen them all do it before; they were perfectly capable of escape. And yet they weren’t. He wondered why.

In the seats lining the aisle were Gotham’s finest criminals, all dressed in their Sunday best. Scarecrow’s burlap looked especially nice, and did the Penguin have a new suit tailored for the occasion? Even Bruce’s loyal butler, Alfred, was there, looking altogether quite calm for a senior citizen surrounded by dangerous supervillains.

“Batman!” Grayson called out, almost leaving from his spot as the best man. It was cute how he was still trying to hide his mentor's identity.

"Nightwing," Batman growled out, looking uncomfortable,

"What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask the same about you," the Boy Wonder replied with a smirk that almost belied his unease.

“I’m doing what’s best for Gotham,” Bruce said, and what Joker wouldn’t give to see under that alluring cowl to see the expressions flit across his face.

“Doing what’s best for Gotham my ass,” Jason Todd, the infamous Red Hood said from where he was standing, “You two have been flirting with each other since day one. Y’all just need to bone.”

Batman spluttered for a moment, then said,

“Bone!? Bone!? How dare you- wait a minute, didn’t he kill you?” Bruce said, incredulous.

“Yeah, but I got better,” Todd said, looking much more nonchalant than he usually did. But, then again, this isn’t supposed to be an angsty story, is it?

Everyone decided to just go with it. Good.

“I, ah, hate to interrupt this lovely father-son moment here, but we do have a wedding to do, right darling?” Joker said. He was growing just the tiniest bit impatient. He wanted to be married, dammit!

Batsy, to his credit, had the manners to look abashed. Wow, he had now seen more expressions on Bruce’s face today than he had in all their time together thus far. Joker extended his arm to his love.

“Shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking motherfucking fuck

Alarm bells were ringing in Bruce’s head. This wedding was happening right the fuck now! Jesus fucking hell. Holy shit. He must look like a total idiot right now, but he was allowed to be a bit concerned! Joker was waiting for him, arm outstretched. Bruce grabbed it, his brain on autopilot. Or, not on autopilot, the pilot was there, but said pilot was almost certainly having a panic attack and quite possibly going into cardiac arrest.

They were walking down the aisle.

They were at the altar.

The justice of the peace was there now, a bit more bruised than he had been the last time Bruce had seen him.

Everything was muted; he was swimming through noise and panic with the peace of a drowned man. All he could hear was a dull roar, that is until Dick slapped him on the shoulder. Suddenly, everything slipped back into focus.

“...Into this - these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together - let them speak now or forever hold their peace,” the justice said, his voice wavering only slightly. Damian looked to object, but was held back by Tim. Bruce was somehow grateful.

“And now, would you speak your vows?” the justice said, glancing nervously around.

“I shall,” Joker said, looking suddenly solemn.

“Batsy, from the moment I met you, on this very rooftop, I knew you were the one. No one but you had ever been able to bring out the best in me the way you have. Whether we were fighting or flirting, I always felt complete. And now I want to be complete with you, officially.”

That was- unexpected. Bruce honestly hadn’t thought the Joker was capable of feeling things, at least not things like- no, he refused to say it. Everyone was staring at him, why was that?

Oh. He had to speak his vows. What the hell was he going to do now? He had no idea what to say. He was Batman, he didn’t need words; a well placed glare was usually enough to portray his meaning no matter who he was speaking to. He cleared his throat.

“Joker,” he began, “I- I don’t really know what to say. This entire situation is completely ridiculous, but I mean what situation with you isn’t? I guess it’s just a part of your charm.” Oh fuck, did he really just call the Joker charming? He glanced over at his children and, yep, they had definitely caught that. Even Damian looked smug. Okay Bruce, deep breaths. You just have to get through this then this whole nightmare will be over. Well, said that little voice in his head, damn that voice, it really will have only just begun.

“Joker, while I admit the circumstances of this are not exactly typical, I really don’t think any kind of wedding with either of us could be. I almost hate to admit it, but you bring out the best in me, and I can only hope that in the future I can bring out the best in you,” he finished. That should be enough, right? He looked at Joker, and almost froze. The Joker was smiling, but not his normal, maniacal smile. It was soft, and hopeful, and it made something in Bruce’s chest crack open. Oh, fuck.

The justice of the peace, still looking terrified out of his wits, seemed to gather himself enough to say,

“You- you may now kiss the groom.”

Bruce didn’t even have time to panic.

#dc #dc comics #the joker #joker #batjokes #fic #bruce wayne #batfam

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sugarless--girl · 5 years ago

Text

College Strays

College was a new start for Umino Iruka. He didn't have to be the same snot-nosed brat that desperately needed people’s approval. But it was harder shaking off that need than he expected and as a result, he was saddled with some of the most annoying people he had the pleasure of meeting.

I took some of my own college experience and shaped it into Iruka's own. I had the lovely idea of Iruka accidentally adopting a bunch of disaster college student despite being a disaster college student himself. It would've been nice to expand a bit more but for now, I think I'm satisfied with this much.

This was for the Umino Hours Discord Exchange hosted by @magnustesla. It was written for @anniemaar and the platonic pairings requested were Iruka & Kakashi, Iruka & Anko and Iruka & Yamato. I unfortunately couldn't fit the last coupling in as I'm really not sure where to fit Tenzo in all of this but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! I had fun writing this :)

Read on AO3

Iruka rubbed his eyes as he tried to ignore the pounding headache, annoyingly steady and distracting. The nausea kept him from shooting up in his bed as he felt someone shift against him. Oh god, he didn’t go home with someone, did he? But, no, the feet pressing against his back were definitely Anko’s, seeking for warmth in the cold winter. Goddammit, Iruka went all out at last night’s party, hadn’t he? He always did this.

“Just one drink ‘Ruka,” Anko would say, and Iruka would acquiescence because the week was long and being an RA for students around his age really sucked…

Second years didn’t get any damn respect did they? Well, he could normally deal, but this week had been especially bad. His side job (side hustle, as Anko liked to call it) was tutoring students in English and helping them with their essays. And because it was midterms season, every one of his clients seemed to be calling in with a last-minute proofreading request. Of course, Iruka took each damn job. He needed the money (he also had a hard time rejecting people—and that wasn’t something he felt like psychoanalyzing anytime soon).

College was supposed to be a fresh start. A way to move past his rebellious and misguided past, but he immediately failed when Anko decided to befriend him during their freshman orientation. Somehow him (politely) declining to answer the icebreaker question—how he got the scar across his nose—was somehow a “challenge” to her. Her goal was supposedly to unlock his secret, tragic backstory or whatever. As a result, she became impossible to shake off, despite them being in a totally different majors (English and education for him, business for her). Anko was determined to stick with him until graduation it seemed like—something that Iruka doubted would last.

And now she had burrowed in his bed in an attempt to sleep off the copious amount of alcohol she had guzzled down. Anko shifted against him as she lazily got up. Iruka narrowed his eyes, furious that she never seemed to get as bad of a hangover as he did.

She stretched, popping her shoulders before turning to Iruka. She smirked at his frown and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You seriously needed to relax.”

“And your solution was to get me drunk?” Iruka said, attempting to raise a brow. He winced when he realized that even glaring was making his headache worse. (He could not deny that a night of dancing made him feel lighter than ever, but this was not about to stop the brunette from giving Anko grief about the whole thing).

“Yep. It’s what I’m best at, after all,” Anko said with a smile that didn’t completely reach her eyes. Iruka wanted to protest that she wasn’t just someone he blew off steam with by drinking with, but he didn’t know what else to add. Before he should add anything, Anko reached out and tapped the crease in his eyebrows. “If you keep frowning, you’re gonna just make the hangover worse.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

Anko rolled her eyes. “I only handed you one drink! I even tried to stop you from chugging down the last few drinks but hey, you didn’t listen.” Iruka sighed. He vaguely remembered that. Clearly the week was much harder than he had expected, as he barely protested when Anko had given him the beer. He pulled the covers over his head to help block out the sun from searing his eyes any further—it only mildly helped his hangover. “I still blame you,” he mumbled through the covers.

“Yeah, yeah.” He heard shuffling from her side in the bed. (It was a miracle they both managed to squeeze into his tiny, twin-sized bed—RA’s got their own nice studio apartment but the same shit-sized bed as everyone else).

Iruka felt Anko ruffle his hair. “I’ll make up for it, alright? Breakfast’s on me.”

“I guess that’ll do…” he mumbled. “I feel awful, though. I’ll probably throw it back up—whatever you feed me.”

Anko lightly laughed before moving away—probably to go freshen up. “Next time, listen to me before you decide to pile on extra work, alright? Maybe you won’t go as hard on the alcohol as you did this time around.”

Iruka nodded his head, although he doubted she saw him. He supposed it wasn’t a bad night out. He did feel a bit better about the previous week more than anything and hey, midterms were over so he deserved a night of fun.

“How’s pancakes sound?” Anko called. Iruka felt vague nausea at the idea but agreed to it nonetheless. He needed to eat—couldn’t really starve a hangover, could you? Besides, Anko’s pancakes were delicious.

"What are you doing here?” Iruka asked. Well, it was less of a question and more of a statement. Genma grinned up at Iruka with a cheeky smile while Shizune looked between the two nervously. Clearly, she had been dragged here. “How—”

Genma stood up from the small dining table (it felt more like a desk to Iruka than a table for food) and sauntered over with ease that he shouldn’t have for someone that broke into his apartment. “How did I get here? Well, my dear friend—”

“We’re not friends.” Iruka said, voicing lacking conviction. (What constituted as friends? He had to come to the terrible conclusion that Anko was indeed a close friend, but did this include Shizune and Genma? All they did was bother him with their schoolwork)

“It was magic!” Genma’s smile was more annoying than anything else and Iruka had the strangest urge to throw his book bag at the other. A long day after classes and studying and he comes home to this? Two acquaintances that broken into his studio apartment, which was 100% breaking-and-entering?

“I could have you arrested for this.” Iruka sighed as he dropped his backpack on the ground, bending down to unlace his boots. Shizune squeaked and it took everything in him to not apologize. She was complicit in all of this, after all.

“But you won’t! Wanna know why?”

Iruka just stared. Genma stared back—daring him to guess. The silence was uncomfortable and clearly, neither were backing down from this stupid disagreement. Goddammit, he already had one annoying person in his life (aka. Anko)—he really didn’t want to deal with another.

“We brought food!” Shizune exclaimed—the silence had gotten to her. “You helped us out during midterms and well, we felt…..that we should do something nice, you know? I know things haven’t been easy and I figured bringing you food would be a good way to thank you and all…..”

“That makes me sound pretty nice, huh?” Genma remarked, scratching his chin

“It was my plan,” Shizune huffed.

“That sounds about accurate,” Iruka said faintly, trying to scan his small apartment for the food. He was starving.

“Hey I still split the bill—”

“Which was expected of you—”

“And picked up the meal.”

“Yes, but—”

“What did you guys bring me? Where’s the food?” Iruka interjected. He was starving.

“Oh, here.” Shizune said, reaching for the fridge and bringing a whole lot of containers.

“Is that Thai?” Iruka asked faintly.

“Yeah,” Shizune said with a smile. “Genma mentioned that you liked it.” Iruka grabbed a bowl and began unloading some Pad Thai into it. So Genma really did listen to him? And Shizune cared enough to think of bringing him food? Huh.

“Are you gonna give me some?” Genma asked, knowing what the answer would be. Iruka sighed and began loading another two bowls with the Pad Thai. “You buy me food and then demand for it back, huh?”

“Oh! Well, I don’t really need—” Shizune said, hands fluttering anxiously.

The brunette grinned suddenly, his bright smile catching the two off guard. They were, of course, disarmed by his charm—which was something that often happened in Iruka’s company.

“I’m only teasing. You guys are the ones who bought the food so of course I’ll give you both some.”

Genma started “Uh, it was for you—” Now, he decides to be a reasonable person?

“What? Don’t wanna have dinner with me?” Iruka pouted. Genma and Shizune blanched. It was hard saying no to him. How could they refuse?

The trio settled down to eat at the cramped table—he really should buy some more chairs if people were going to come over more often—and somehow, the tiredness that accumulated throughout the day was gone from his shoulders. He felt the tiredness lift from his face as Genma joked with Shizune’s crush while the other shot back at him about his latest rejection. In the excitement of free food (and good company) Iruka totally forgot to ask how they managed to get into his apartment. Well, he could always just blame Anko.

“Why….why are they here?” Kakashi asked with a strangled voice. He was sitting at the dining table as Iruka attempted to teach the other man why English was necessary for a biology major like him. Unfortunately, Kakashi kept glancing at the other residents in his room. Iruka didn’t blame him.

Anko laid on his bed, watching some dumb movie with Kotetsu it seemed like. They were both fans of unironically watching My Strange Addiction. Seriously, they both had such trash taste in shows, neither were allowed full control of the movie for movie nights. Kurenai was on the floor, a hundred percent concentration as she tried to get her nails absolutely perfect—it was always the same red color but since she kept messing up her right hand, the process usually took ten times longer than for her left hand. Izumo and Shizune were chatting at the stove, making spaghetti for the third night in a row. Iruka was a worse cook than the two of them and besides, they were all poor college students, so he really didn’t have many complaints. A decade of eating the awful, shoddily-made food in the orphanage really lowered his standards.

“Just ignore them,” Iruka sighed. He turned to face Kakashi, who avoided his eye contact. He didn’t hold it against the other man—he was pretty anxious. Something that most people completely missed when talking to him as they assumed his curtness was him trying to be a dick. But no, that was just Kakashi being nervous. “So you had questions on your last English paper? It seems like you improved a great deal, so good for you!” But, it seemed like Kakashi wasn’t done when he asked “I—do they do this every night?”

“Well, no,” Iruka said, glancing at the others as he tried to recall their schedule. “Anko has volleyball practice Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoon; Shizune has to go to the clinic on Tuesdays and Wednesdays; Izumo has Mondays taken up by his physics lab; Kotetsu has work on the weekend at some restaurant; Kurenai only really drops by occasionally and Asuma even more rare; Genma is free all the time but you never can predict when he won’t be here—he sometimes brings Raidou. I guess….most of us are here on Thursday? But, it all really depends.”

Kakashi just stared and looked around the room. “And…...you’re okay with this?”

Iruka shrugged, about to dismiss the question before really thinking about it. Was he okay with it?

Truthfully, it could get a little annoying and on his nerves if people started to overstay their welcome (and that usually meant Anko and Genma) but honestly? If he was being 100% real with himself—it was kind of nice. He liked everyone being here. It reminded of the orphanage but this time, the people chose to stay with him instead.

Just as he was about to respond to the question, Genma opened the door, bringing in a whole case of beer. “Santa’s here! And I’ve brought presents!”

“Oooh!!!” Anko cheered, hopping off the bed. “Gimme, gimme!”

“What? No way, these are for ‘Ruka,” Genma said, holding the case over his head. Anko, being a head shorter than him just kicked his shins in retaliation. “What the hell??? Mooooooom! Anko’s being mean to me!!”

“Settle down children.” Iruka sighed before getting up. Best to separate them before things escalated and they ended up breaking something again. “And you really didn’t need to get more beer, Genma. We already have plenty of alcohol.”

“More doesn’t hurt, does it?” Anko said, clinging onto Genma’s legs in an attempt to trip him over.

“Definitely not.” Genma agreed—his words at odds with his actions as he was trying to pry off Anko from his legs.

Iruka took the case of beer to the fridge and was about to go back to Kakashi before Shizune put a hand around. “Try this out, Iruka!” she said holding out a piece of zucchini with a pair of chopsticks.

The brunette leaned down and ate the piece. “Huh…..this is pretty good.”

“We found a recipe online because we wanted to jazz it up a bit more,” Izumo said watching Iruka’s face. “So….you think it’s good enough?”

Iruka smiled. “It was always fine before.”

“You were seriously okay with eating spaghetti for three days in a row?” Izumo asked skeptically.

“Free food is free food. But it’s great, Izumo. You’re both getting better at cooking!”

Izumo ducked his head to hide his flustered expression while Shizune giggled. Iruka smiled at the two before going back to Kakashi. The silver-haired man was watching Genma and Anko viciously wrestle (god, it was always all or nothing for the two of them wasn’t it?) with horrified interest. Iruka snorted and Kakashi turned back to him catching his eye momentarily before dropping his gaze.

“They’re a bunch of weirdos, aren’t they?” Iruka said turning to look at Kurenai who had managed to rope Kotetsu into painting her right hand. He must’ve been doing a better job than her if her pleased smile was to say anything. She caught his eye and shot him a wink—Iruka couldn’t wink and Kurenai took any opportunity to rub it in his face. She tilted her head slightly, toward Kakashi and Iruka caught on.

“Uh…..I-I guess?” Kakashi said, toying with his surgical face mask.

Iruka smiled at Kakashi’s awkwardness. It was a lot more endearing when you got to know the guy better.

“But to answer your question from earlier…..it’s not bad,” Iruka said with a slight smile. “The company…..well….it’s better than being alone, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Kakashi said stiffly.

Iruka stared at the silver-haired man before looking down at the homework on the table. He began gathering it up as he thought about his next move. The sad and bitter child in him that never got adopted into a decent foster home was quiet now. He may have lost his blood family but….these guys were enough for now, weren’t they?

“Well, only one way to find out. Will you stay for dinner?”

#naruto #iruka umino #anko mitarashi #genma shiranui #shizune #kakashi hatake #kotetsu hagane #izumo kamizuki #kurenai yuhi #fanfic #fanfiction #platonic pairings #college au #this was fun to write :)#umino hours exchange

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waitineedaname · 5 years ago

Note

♡❤️ DAVE

oh you know my weaknesses

♡ - romantic headcanon: this isn’t necessarily a romantic headcanon but there’s not cuddling option on the ask meme list, so. dave is a goddamn cuddle FIEND. he’s so fucking tactile, and he doesn’t even really realize it half the time.

I’m gonna use karkat as an example but this goes for really any dave ship, but he’ll be holding karkat’s hand and it’s Time For Fidget so he just ends up playing with his fingers and running his thumb over the scars on karkat’s hand and tapping out a beat on his wrist and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it because he’s just relaxed

or they’re sitting together on the couch and he swears they started with a normal amount of space between them, but somehow he ends up draped over karkat’s lap, snuggled so close it seems like he’s trying to fuse with him or something.

and don’t get me STARTED on the hair petting, dear god, he just melts.

the boy is touch-starved and he THRIVES with physical affection. physical contact that isn’t aggressive and is filled with love and comfort and care? wild

♥ - family headcanon: one for each strilonde because I’m weak for family stuff,

Rose: you know that sibling dynamic where you send each other cursed images and dumb memes and try to annoy each other into blocking you for the rest of the day? yeah that’s them dsklfjdlfkj they’re constantly trying to get on each other’s nerves and it works, but they’re both godawful at admitting when they’ve lost (especially rose. ESPECIALLY rose). but they also care about each other a whole lot and even if every other part of their lives seems to have gone to hell, they know they can rely on each other (albeit with a few barbs)

Dirk: even though dave knows dirk is different from bro, he’s still similar enough to set off some trauma sometimes, and dirk knows this. dirk cares about him a lot and he hates that a version of himself fucked dave up so bad, but then dave doesn’t want dirk to beat himself up about it, so they’ve got this balanced out thing to help each other out. dirk is extra careful to avoid setting off any of dave’s triggers, like he avoids flashstepping around him because the fast movements set dave on the defensive, so he tries to keep his movements predictable. when he finally started fitting in his hats, he happened to wear one around dave and dave nearly jumped out of his skin, so he doesn’t wear hats around him. and most of all, he tries to show dave that he’s proud of him whenever he can because he knows dave never got that validation from his bro. and in return, dave helps him out of guilt spirals, like when dirk is convincing himself he’s an awful person and he’s doomed to end up the bastard his pre-scratch self was, dave is there to tell him no dude, trust me, you’re nothing like him. it’s a constant work in progress for both of the, but they’re trying and that’s all that matters

also, not to give dirk two headcanons on here, but I like to think that dave ends up a little bit taller than dirk. bro was a physically imposing person in dave’s life but dirk is just a lanky sixteen year old when they meet. he’s survived off of fish and preserved food his whole life, and it’s kind of stunted his growth, so he’s not as tall as he could be and he’s kinda scrawny. dave had his own dietary restrictions in the first thirteen years of his life, but he actually managed to alchemize some full, regular meals on the meteor, and that helped his growth spurt and made him fill out a tiny bit (he’s still a noodle though), so meeting the post-scratch version of his bro and seeing that he was a couple inches shorter than him and just a mess of teenager acne was something of a comfort for him

Roxy: dave fucking LOVES roxy. dave craves some kind of positive parental figure and let’s be real, that’s not dirk, but roxy is immediately like HELL YEAH, you’re my SON and I LOVE and SUPPORT YOU, let’s talk about your FEELINGS. they’re basically the most supportive person in the whole comic and they have no qualms just drowning dave in love. plus they’re super similar and they get along like a house on fire. so many shenanigans. so many rambles. so much laughter. dave’s list of best friends goes 1) john 1b) karkat 1c) roxy, because they’re all number one. ALSO just something sweet that I think is fun, when roxy starts exploring their gender and decides they want to try out dressing more masculinely, they go to dave and the two go on a shopping spree, which is why they end up looking a lot like dave before they eventually settled into their own aesthetic

Hal: oh you thought I was done??? NO, robot brothers are brothers too. in literally any scenario I can worm him into, I love hal being a good older brother to dave, he’s hal’s favorite brother. I know I’ve already talked to you about this, but I love the idea of a humanstuck au where hal is the person dave went to when he needed identity help. like, if he went to dirk, he’d tell him “Labels are for soup cans” and be supremely unhelpful. if he went to roxy, they’d be like “idk man im figurin this stuff out too but chase ur bliss!!” because they don’t really know what’s going on either. if he went to rose, yeah she’d probably help him figure something out, but at the cost of being psychoanalyzed for three hours. but hal is 1) openly gay and nonbinary (“so are you a dude or” “I’m [windows error noises]” “h. how’d you do that with your mouth”) 2) extremely honest 3) always down to show off how much he knows about a topic, plus dave trusting him so much makes him go ??????? so yeah he’s very helpful

#wow uh this turned out super long #dave strider #dlfkjdslkfj you opened the FLOODGATES sam #you know I'm always down to talk about my boy #dirk's ended up super long oof #but I think about them figuring out a healthy brotherly relationship a lot #I kinda wanna write a fic where dave takes roxy clothes shopping tbh #bc dave is honestly the only human boy with any fashion #like the clothes they have in the game?#john's just having fun #dirk is a MESS to look at WHAT are those shoes #jake is uh. doing something.#but dave?? those SUITS??? serving looks always #notedchampagne #asks

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logicalstansadvice · 3 years ago

Note

Agreed, anon 1 & 2; anon #3, maybe we shouldn't try to psychoanalyze Sebastian in any kind of "real" way....it's fine to joke that he may be a submissive though 😜!

/// Yes ladies it really seems this fandom is full of know it all psychoanalyzers... Would really love to enjoy Sebastian as I did before but I can't. This fandom ruined it for me. Crushing over an actor and gossipping about him on blogs is supposed to be fun, right? Otherwise why do it? I mean, does he pay y'all to be his therapy dudes and analyze his behavior or smth? Or you do this with every rando? And by you I mean anons who analyze him, not the mods.

Anon #2

The anon with the essay, you're gen Z, right? Sigh... You kids need to learn to losen up a bit. I agree with your overall message, but dear god, you're serious as a heart attack! Sebastian is just an actor in the end. Who the fuck cares who he dates. I certainly didn't expect him to date some high moral high class smart hottie. He chose a superficial hw type cause that's what he is too.

Whether he is superficial/neurotic/whatever else is inconsequential.

We are here for his talent.

💄

#logical stans advice #logicalstansadvice #asks answered

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awkwardshanandagins · 7 years ago

Text

Well, shit, there goes my vision...

One step forward and two steps back. If you were to ask me to sum up my fertility journey in one sentence, that’s what how I would describe it. At least

up until this point. Every time we take a step in the right direction, the universe shoves me backwards. This past week it feels more like 300 steps backwards.

In May of this year, I had my second laparoscopy on my baby maker. I also had a procedure done called “ovarian drilling.” Sounds terrible, right? I figured while they were in there they might as well fuck shit up as much as possible. No but really, it’s about as bad it sounds. It’s a procedure in which they burn little holes into your ovaries. From what our fertility doc told us, this isn’t a commonly used practice but has been shown to help lower testosterone production and help with fertility but only temporarily. My understanding from the little bit I read about it is that us ladies with PCOS develop a hard outer shell around our ovaries in which burning the holes helps break that up. Somehow that hard outer shell makes it even more difficult for women with PCOS to get pregnant. Don’t quote me on this, I’m not a doctor, obviously. Well hopefully my hard outer shell is nice and shattered. I’ll stop using that term now, it’s only making me think of those little easter egg candies that are solid chocolate and have the hard outer shell. My favorite!!! Anyways, not the point.

Now that I’ve probably turned you off those easter egg candies forever, or at least gave you the gift of envisioning my ovaries while eating them, I’ll get back to my what I was saying.

Our plan was to have that surgery and attempt IUI, which is insemination (practically the turkey-baster method), once my doctor gave me the okay, unless we changed our minds to IVF which was quickly happening. My OBGYN is a kind older gentleman who takes his sweet, sweet time doing absolutely everything but I deal with the slowness because he’s the only one I’ve found who listens. As I’m sure so many already know, finding the right doctors is essential but usually super complicated. He told me I’d be good to start trying IUI at six weeks out from surgery. He suggested that once he “does his thing,” the fertility doc quickly start his part of this lovely process.

Depending on who you talk to you’ll get different information on whether laparoscopy actually improves fertility. My OBGYN is certain it will help my chances while my fertility doctor said it will have absolutely no effect whatsoever. My fertility doc actually suggested I don’t have the surgery at all and just go straight to IVF. He said the only reason to get a laparoscopy these days is for pain. Honestly, that was my main concern at this point anyways. I couldn’t go through the next several months of fertility treatments with the pain the endo has caused so I was going ahead with the surgery no matter what he said. This is when he suggested the ovarian drilling. He told me it was an easy procedure and I might as well have it done while my OBGYN is already in there burning the crap out of my insides (my words, not his). He said doing the drilling might give me better success with IUI if that was the route I was choosing.

So flash forward a few weeks and here we are. I see my OBGYN in two days to make sure everything is healed okay. If so, I’d be able to start the process for IUI or IVF. We were getting SO excited thinking within the next couple months we could finally be pregnant after 5+ years of trying. Of course, we know our chances with IUI are about that of a person with no fertility problems getting pregnant any given month but hey that’s a better chance than we’ve ever had before! Plus, we’re not ready to jump straight to IVF. I mean, dear lord have you seen how much that costs?!?!?! I f you aren’t to that point yet, I don’t mean to scare you but holy hell our babies are going to be expensive, ladies!! Also, what if we skip right to IVF and it doesn’t work? That’s our last resort. We have no other option at that point. If IVF doesn’t work, I won’t be carrying our child and that scares the shit out of me. So, we just aren’t there yet. We’ll take our chances on IUI and pray God will come through.

It’s funny how fast things can change. Here we are looking forward to FINALLY starting the process of HOPEFULLY getting pregnant and whammy, life kicks us in the balls.

I was at work last Wednesday, June 21st, just doing my thing, looking forward to a new promotion coming my way (a story for another day) when my vision changed suddenly. You know when you look at the sun for too long and you lose vision and see bright spots? That’s what happened, kind of. I started seeing funny out of my left eye, out of nowhere. One second I could see and the next second I couldn’t. I could see with both eyes open but when I closed my right eye whatever I looked at with my left eye disappeared. I was just missing a chunk of my vision. I could kind of make out things in my peripherals but anytime I would move my focus the dark orb would follow and envelop anything I was trying to look at.

I thought maybe I just looked out my window at the brightness a little too long so I gave it a few minutes to see if it would come back. I don’t even know if that’s a thing, but that was my first thought. It didn’t come back. I spoke to a coworker who told me about her ocular migraines and how what I was experiencing sounded similar to what she experiences. I took some advil thinking it would help this ocular migraine I was probably having and decided to wait it out. She told me for the 20 years she’s had them, they never last more than an hour. Great! I was already over an hour of not seeing but everyone’s different so I assumed it would pass quickly.

I’m a worrier. I make situations in my mind worse than they usually are. Probably from my fear of death which stems from losing my brother at such a young age, but we can psychoanalyze me later. First thought, tumor! I don’t know why, but tumor is my go-to. Weird ringing in my ear? Tumor. Headache? Tumor. Pinky toe hurts? Tumor!!! You see where I’m going with this. My other coworker, who was familiar with my tumor paranoia, assured me it was not a tumor and just a migraine. Deep down, I knew it was only a migraine, but who doesn’t like to be dramatic to spice things up in a boring office job?

It had been at least two hours with no vision so I thought I should make an appointment just in case. I’d rather know for sure it is an ocular migraine to bring my crazy brain some peace of mind. They could fit me in at 3:15 that day. It was only 11:00. Cool, four more hours I could sit around and panic. Just what a Wednesday needs! I sent my boss an email letting her know what was going on. At this point, I was certain she was sick of my shit. I had only been back a week and a half from my two week leave for surgery which I had not planned. Another story for a different time. I missed a lot of work with PCOS and endo (and always feeling like crap but never knowing why) and as understanding as she was, I knew she was probably thinking “dear lord Shanda, what is it this time?”

In talking to my coworker about my almost definite tumor, I remembered my mom had lost her vision in one eye quite a few years back, due to a blood clot. Oh cool, even better, now I have a blood clot on top of my tumor. I called my mom and she told me she had Central Retinal Artery Occlusion. Basically, she had a blood clot that burst and took her vision with it. This happened when she was 40 and she was now 65. Her doctor told her she was incredibly young to have that happen to her as it usually only occurs in people who are 60 or older. The good part, she had no pain. The bad part? Vision loss is permanent. That same coworker heard me on the phone talking (probably closer to shrieking) about a blood clot and IM’d me saying “you’re good.” Thank goodness for her. She keeps me grounded when I spiral out about all my tumors. She was overly confident it was just a migraine.

I got to the eye doctor and they immediately dilated my left eye so I’d be ready for the doctor by the time he was ready for me. My pupils are already huge, which every eye doctor always comments on like it’s some sort of weird compliment. Thank you, I grew them myself! So, when my eyes are dilated, they get enormous. I look like some sort of weird anime character. This time I looked like a weird anime character on drugs since it was only one pupil. It was fun staring at people in the waiting room, winking at them, making them uncomfortable.

When I met with the doctor, he said he originally thought from my symptoms that it was an ocular migraine. Ocular migraines do not last more than two hours usually so he was concerned it was something else. My retinas were still attached which was great news! That was actually my real fear since I’ve always been told I’m at high risk for retinal detachment which can cause permanent vision loss.

After all the tests, he mentioned it was apparent I was missing a big chunk of my vision in my left eye. Thank you, Dr. Obvious. He couldn’t see behind my eye to figure out the problem but expected it to be a Central Retinal Artery Occlusion. I had already forgotten the term from my mom telling it to me earlier. He explained it’s a blood clot and can cause permanent damage. He was referring me to a retina specialist. He told me before I left that if I wake up the next morning and could see, he would assume it was a retinal migraine. Still, he said, retinal migraines normally don’t last over 2 hours but anything is possible. I had hope! I was sure I’d see that next morning.

I tried so hard not to cry in front of him. I’m sure he saw the tears welting up in my eyes so I hurried out. While paying, I realized this was not covered by my eye “insurance” because it was considered medical and I should have gone to Kaiser. Wish they would tell you this shit up front! I had them fax my paperwork to Kaiser which led to a whole other mess of problems.

As soon as I got in the car, I lost it. The thought of permanently losing vision in one eye is awful. I realize things could be so much worse, but still, it felt like a huge loss. I called my husband on the way home and told him through my ugly crying that it might be permanent. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have been driving with one eye, crying and talking on the phone. Have no fear! I am an excellent driver and hurt no one that day.

I talked to my mom later that night and asked her again what she had happen to her eye since I couldn’t remember all these damn words. I told her what they thought it was and that I was supposed to see a specialist the following day. She insisted on driving me. Probably a good call.

I wanted to try to go to work that next day so I didn’t piss off my boss but I woke up around 1:45 a.m. and my heart jumped because I remembered the doctor said if I “wake up and can see” it was just a migraine. I shot open my eyes like a creepy horror flick scene and realized I still could not see. I had a total meltdown. My poor husband, trying to sleep, and there I am shaking the whole bed from my convulsion like crying. I didn’t go back to sleep that night. I laid there feeling sorry for myself and grieving my vision loss as I was sure it was never coming back. I called and left a message for my boss that I wouldn’t be in. I didn’t care anymore at that point. I was sad and scared, mostly exhausted, but I just didn’t care if she was mad.

I impatiently waited for 8:30 when the optometrist’s office opened at Kaiser. They said they’d call me first thing in the morning after the eye doctor faxed the paperwork. They didn’t. Of course they didn’t. Why would they? I hate medical offices. They just dilly dally around as if nothing is ever a big deal. This is a big deal! This is a huge fucking deal to me! This affects the rest of my life. I called at 8:40. They didn’t have the paperwork. I immediately called the other doctor who said they already faxed it the night before but would do it again. Why do all doctor’s offices have to function this way? I have not met one person who has ever thought “easy breezy” is a good way to explain their experience with doctor’s offices.

About 30 minutes later I get a call from Kaiser. It was a young woman on the other end. She sounded sweet and innocent almost like a child, but boy did I want to punch that child once we hung up. She said the person who needed to review my file before letting me see a doctor would be in the next day and would contact me. She assured me she was quick and would call me early. Oh thank you, you little asshole! I’ll just sit here another day, without vision, possibly dying from a tumor, and wait for the “fast” lady to review my file. “NO.” I think I shocked her. How did this seem okay in her child like brain? Sudden loss or change of vision is considered an emergency and now they want to make me wait another day. How fucking dare they! They don’t know who they’re messing with, I will scream cry in all their stupid faces. She said there was someone else who could review my file. Why she didn’t just do that in the first place baffles me but it must be that child-like brain of hers that hasn’t fully developed. She calls me back and says I have to get all the same tests I already had done the night before since that doctor’s notes were “vague.” She wouldn’t let me see a specialist because “that’s the doctor’s recommendation ma’am.” I swear to God if it was possible, I would have reached through that phone and throat chopped the shit out of her. Fine. It’s better to see someone than no one at all. The appointment wasn’t until that afternoon. Fun! Another full day of sitting around obsessing about the tumor that was most assuredly taking over my brain.

I called my mom, ugly crying yet again. As you can tell, I was dealing with things very well. She told me she’d still pick me up and take me to that appointment and suggested for me to try to get some rest. Yeah right. A little later, my sister-in-law called me. She’s been a nurse for that past 7+ years. She validated my concerns. She told me this was an emergency and if Kaiser wouldn’t let me see a specialist, she was taking me to the ER. I HATE the ER! They make you sit and wait forever with people coughing and snotting all over themselves and then they just tell you to follow up with your doctor anyways. I told her I would have my mom take me to urgent care.

My mom called me a little later and told me she got in touch with my uncle who is pretty high up in Kaiser. He was angry they were not treating this as an emergency and told her to take me to urgent care. He also got me in touch with the head of the whole damn department who finally ended up getting me in with a specialist. It’s all about who you know. This whole ordeal took hours and I had to call the freaking head of the department in Washington D.C. just to get a damn appointment! Fuck you very much Kaiser.

I saw Dr. Miller that afternoon who, right off the bat, assured me it was very unlikely I had a Central Retinal Artery Occlusion. After all of the testing he informed me he thought I had what is called Optic Neuritis which is where the optic nerve connecting your eye to your brain becomes inflamed and obstructs your vision. Good news is, it’s likely my vision will return in 6-8 weeks. He said he could also treat me with a heavy dose of steroids which would help my vision come back sooner, but the steroids come with a lot of side effects. The last thing my moody-self needs is roid-rage. I felt a heavy weight lifted from my chest. I would get my vision back!!!!! He told me he wanted me to get a MRI just to be sure. The appointment was about over but I figured I’d throw one last question into the mix. How does optic neuritis happen? Does the nerve just randomly inflame? It’s almost as if he was trying to avoid giving me this information. He told me not to worry right up front. Smart! Every time you start a sentence with “don’t worry…BUT,” you know the person is going into full blown panic. Optic neuritis is the first sign of Multiple Sclerosis. The MRI would be able to show if I have lesions on my brain which would indicate MS. He said there’s a chance I don’t have MS but could develop it over time or I could already have it. “Try not to worry.” Sure. You just told a person who always resorts to worst case scenario that she has MS, but I’m sure worry is the last thing she’ll do. Pffft.

My family was all relieved until I threw in the fun news about possible MS. My sister and mom both tried to make me promise not to Google anything until I had the MRI and got the results. Ha! Yeah okay, like that’s going to work. I am a professional Web-MD’er. My mom took me home and I ugly cried one more time.

I waited maybe an hour before I was on Google frantically looking up MS. I’ve always heard the term but never really knew much about the disease. Going through the symptoms was like looking at a description of me the past few years. Everything was making sense. This was me! I already diagnosed myself with MS. I looked over at my husband who had been intently staring at his phone for awhile. He looked up and said “this is you.” I texted my sister to let her know I had in fact Googled the shit out of MS only to find out, she did too. She texted back and said “I think you’ve had this for years.” Eventually, my mom texted and agreed, this all sounded like what I had been dealing with for years.

It feels like in a matter of seconds, my life changed. I know I had no diagnosis yet and there was a very real chance I didn’t have MS, but I was convinced I did. I had to schedule my MRI for the following week on Tuesday. It was only Thursday. What a fun weekend I was going to have! There is no way I wouldn’t worry about something like this even though my doctor told me not to. I thought about it all weekend. I called in Friday as well and cried and Googled all day. Like I said, I was really dealing with this well. I wanted to prepare myself for what I was certain was coming my way.

The good news about MS is it’s completely manageable. I got to a point over the weekend where I was at peace with the idea of having it. At least I would finally have an answer to why I’ve felt like shit for so long. It would assure me that I have not been crazy this whole time and I’m not just a hypochondriac as my family would always joke about. Going to the doctor and constantly being told nothing is wrong with you really has a way of making you look and feel like a crazy person. MS would take that away. I wasn’t a crazy person, I was a person with MS. Not only am I a person with MS, I’m also a person with PCOS and endometriosis. Sheesh, that’s a lot on a body. No wonder I felt like crap all the time. There was nothing for me to do at this point but sit and wait.

I have been an emotional wreck since last Wednesday night. My moods are crazier than ever and I’ve cried so much I really don’t know how there is any fluid left in my body. Tuesday, my husband took me to get the MRI. Thank God I had my doctor prescribe me some anxiety meds. MRIs are really not that much fun. The first ten minutes were the worst. I had the most irrational fear while I was in there. I’m back to thinking I’m a crazy person. I was worried some sort of disaster was occurring while I was in the machine and the lady doing my MRI was no longer there. She left me in this machine which would never stop running and I would be stuck in forever! I thought my head was strapped down and I was certain there was no way for me to escape. She had put a wash cloth over my eyes so I wouldn’t be able to look around and panic, which was helpful, but I also now could not plan my escape route, if in fact the zombie apocalypse was occurring at that exact moment. Luckily, she pulled me out to put dye in my IV. I told her I was worried about being stuck and she informed me I could just wiggle my way out of the machine. I’m so dumb sometimes. Where do I come up with these crazy scenarios? The second half of the MRI was fine. I actually relaxed and let the vibrations soothe me a bit.

Now comes the worst part, waiting. She said my doctor would get the results in 3-5 days! It feels like an eternity and I’m now only on day two. I’m trying to keep my mind and body busy while I wait but have I told you how amazing I am at multitasking? I can be busy and STILL think about all this crap. As of yesterday afternoon, I have even more time on my hands to obsess. My boss sat me down yesterday morning and convinced me to take some time off. She’s seen me around work, tripping, running into walls, crying and just looking like complete death. She knows I’ve been struggling and that I feel terrible both physically and mentally, it’s really not that hard to see. My eyes are sunken and almost always filled with tears and I just stumble around like a drunk person bashing into things and knocking everything over. It’s actually a little complicated to get used to only one eye. I was a clumsy disaster before losing my vision, it has only intensified.

I am thankful she talked me into taking time off. It was something I knew I needed but I wasn’t willing to admit. I’ve always worked really hard at my job and I take pride in my accomplishments. Admitting that I wasn’t up to the task was almost physically painful for me. I know God had a role in this. He saw I needed a break and that I wouldn’t do it myself so he forced me into it. My boss would not have taken no for an answer. Back to FMLA, hopefully. I’m still waiting to hear if it’s approved and I just recently applied for short term disability. This is all very surreal. This is not how I saw my 30th birthday going. Oh did I mention, my birthday was a month and half ago? It’s been awesome. So far I’ve gone to the ER in New Orleans, had surgery, was forced into taking more time off than I expected to, lost my vision in my right eye and now might have MS. Solid start to my thirties.

I have to say, through all of this, I have been extremely blessed. I have the absolute best support system anyone could wish for. My family is amazing. My husband, my parents, my sister…they’ve all been there for me every step of the way. They’ll let me cry on the phone and bitch for as long as I need. They reassure me and lift my spirits consistently. My sister-in-law has been so supportive as well as my close friends. We all need support at certain times in our lives. This is that time in my life.

Needless to say, IUI/IVF has been put on hold. As devastating as it is, there is no way my body can carry a baby right now. So many things are still unknown. We will get there someday. We are determined to have a child and I cannot wait to hold my baby in my arms. Until then, we will wait as patiently as possible and continue to pray.

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