#yeah i feel like some people need the reminder

[synthetickitsune]

Full Stomach, Full Heart ✧ w.jh

Pairing: Wen Junhui x reader (gn) Genre: angst, hints of comfort Summary: What was the last thing you ate, actually? Yet better question would be when was the last time you ate a full, nutritious meal. You don’t think you can remember though. And you know Jun will hate to hear it. Word count: 2.2k Warnings: food struggles, mentions of reader not eating properly

You feel something’s wrong within the first hour after waking up. Deeply wrong, but you’re equally deep in denial, so you write it off as a side effect of getting up too early and immediately scrolling on your phone, so you go back to sleep. When you wake up again, you’re not really sure you slept at all. Somehow, though, the time has passed too quickly for you to just be spacing out in bed. You need to get up. 

The feeling is still there, a weight on your chest and your mind feels like it’s clouded by a thick fog. Your bones feel heavy. Just standing feels uncomfortable and draining. You get some water and crawl back into bed. A text from your boyfriend is waiting for you, wishing you a good morning and asking if you’ve eaten yet. Your stomach churns at the idea of eating, so you ignore the text in favor of more sleep. 

Only sleep just won’t come. Not for long anyway. It’s all brief flashes of unconsciousness that leave you disoriented and tired once you wake up. Switching between unsuccessful attempts of napping and mindless scrolling on your phone, with some spacing out on the side, time passes. You try to make yourself get up again and do something, try to guilt yourself into being productive, all without result. Nothing works, nothing feels right.

You can’t tell what’s wrong exactly, but somehow it feels like everything is. It makes you upset, most of all with yourself. There is nothing that needs to get done, however you can come up with a list of a hundred things that you could get done if only you dragged yourself out of bed. There’s no reason you should be like this, you tell yourself. It is what it is, you tell yourself next and close your eyes again.

Without your permission, time passes. It slips away from you, then forcefully reminds you of its existence when your phone starts to ring.

It’s Jun.

“Hey,” you whisper. You hope he heard over the commotion around him. Suddenly you realize you really hate people today. Staying in bed seems even more appealing. Nobody is going to bother you here.

“Are you alright?” Jun cuts straight to chase. His voice is kind but laced with worry. “You never responded to my text.”

Oh. Shit.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I am,” you hesitate a little, “Just don’t feel too good.”

You can see the frown on his face when you close your eyes and focus on the brief pause. The background noise, the voices, get distant and quiet. Somewhere on the other end of the line, a door clicks shut.

“‘Not good’ as in…?” he asks and you sigh. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you regret being honest in the first place. Just a little. But then again if you haven’t told him, he’d drive himself crazy with worry and that’s the last thing he needs during practice.

“I just don’t feel much of anything,” you admit, “I’m just really tired. I don’t want to do anything, don’t wanna talk to anyone.”

He hums in sympathy. It makes something warm flicker in your chest. You can imagine the hug he’d give you if he was here - enveloping, like the world doesn’t exist, his hand cradling your head, the other on the small of your back pulling you close with just the perfect amount of force. He’d hold you until something made him let go, and then still kiss you and promise to be right back.

“I’m sorry I called,” he whispers, “I just got worried.”

“No, I don’t mind you,” you reassure him even as every word drains more energy out of your already exhausted body, “You don’t count.”

“Why thank you,” you hear the smile in his voice. It’s natural for you to smile as well without thinking, if only you had the energy too. Regret wells up in your chest, even though Jun won’t know about this little turmoil. “Have you eaten?”

Your heart pauses for a beat. The answer is clear, but what was the last thing you ate, actually? Probably just instant noodles or something like that. Better question would be when was the last time you ate a full, nutritious meal. You don’t think you can remember though. And you know Jun will hate to hear it.

“...no,” you admit quietly. You curl under the blanket. He might get disappointed and worried but he won’t yell at you, you know that, yet it still feels uncomfortable. The silence drags on and leaves you suspended in anxiety. You beg him to talk inside your head, to say anything - to snap at you, anything will do. Just not the silence.

“y/n, it’s so late…” he says and you know he’s not scolding you, that he’s as gentle as he can be, but it still sounds like you’re getting scolded.

“I know,” you murmur, “I’m not hungry though.”

It’s an understatement. The idea of eating itself makes your stomach churn. And maybe it’s hunger in disguise, maybe. Most likely. You know you should eat. Food feels repulsive, though.

“You need to eat,” he insists, quietly, still gentle. You can hear the change in his voice when he adds: “I’ve been busy a lot, huh?”

“Jun…” you shake your head, “It’s not your fault. I need to take care of myself.”

“I want to be there for you when you’re not feeling well,” there’s a moment where his voice gets higher. You can imagine the lightbulb appearing above his head and it makes you slightly concerned. “I’m gonna help.”

“Wait, no-”

“Shh, no arguing,” he shushes you. You can hear his voice get more distant. “I’ll order you some food. A lot of it. So you can choose.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna see anyone. Please. I promise I’ll eat later, just not now,” you try to change his mind. It’s pointless, you’re well aware that Jun is the most stubborn when your wellbeing is concerned. The silence on the other end of the line, occasionally broken by tapping noises as your boyfriend’s fingers dance across the screen, tells you resistance is hopeless. Still you try.

“I don’t want to go anywhere to pick up the food. I won’t even go downstairs,” you warn him,

“I won’t pick up the phone if anyone calls. I won’t talk to anyone,” you sulk.

“Jun, please forget about it-”

“Will you cook?” he interrupts you, a slight edge to his voice. You shrivel under the blanket.

“No but-”

“Are there any leftovers you can heat up?”

“No, Jun-”

“Don’t ‘no Jun’ me,” he sighs, “I’m gonna figure this out, okay? Don’t worry.”

Before you can ask for an explanation, beg him to let it go, anything, he hangs up. You groan and pull at your hair. It’s pointless to argue with Jun, however, and although you’re frustrated you know you can trust him. So you return to numbly lying on bed.

It’s some time later that you’re woken up - from sleep or daydreaming, you have no idea - by a text. You frown and pick up the phone, already annoyed. Who dares to bother you now?

Joshua: hey i’m downstairs so don’t get creeped out when i come in with the food

Joshua: if you're awake

Joshua: if not - sorry! ><

…what?

You don’t have much time to process what’s happening before you hear the code being put in and the doors opening. You’re tempted to pretend you’re not home but also what the fuck is he doing here? Taking a quick look at Jun’s messy hoodie and sweats you’re wearing, you ultimately decide that it’s not your fault Joshua’s going to see you like this. He came in uninvited. So much for not talking to anyone. You get up and groggily walk out of the room and look for the intruder.

You find him in the kitchen… putting food containers on the table?

“Hey,” he greets you softly with a friendly smile without pausing his actions.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, confusion written all over your face. Your arms are wrapped around your body protectively. Joshua doesn’t even look at you as he meticulously takes everything out of the bag.

“That’s my line. You should be in bed” he chuckles. Finally he looks up and upon seeing you don’t get the situation at all, he shakes his head with a small laugh.

“Jun said you’re not feeling well,” he explains, “So he asked if anyone could bring you food while you rest. Are you okay to eat now or should I put it in the fridge?”

You stop yourself from screaming aloud. And sighing. And hitting your head against the wall.

“Thank you,” you say instead, “It really wasn’t necessary.”

“No problem,” Joshua smiles at you again, “So?”

“I’ll eat in a bit,” you decide, relaxing slightly. You don’t feel like eating if you’re being honest but you also think the nausea starting to kick in is caused by hunger at this point. You should make yourself eat. Somehow.

“Okay. Do you need anything else? Medicine, dessert?” he jokes and you roll your eyes at him even though the target should really be Junhui.  

“I’m fine, thank you,” you try to smile at him despite your irritated mood. You make a mental note to thank Joshua again and apologize later because he leaves as quickly as he came. You should also talk to your boyfriend about using his friends as couriers.

Speaking of which…

Your phone rings again the moment you sit down and angrily stab the utensil into the closest container. You really can’t be bothered to use dishes that you’d have to wash later.

You accept the call and put your boyfriend on speaker.

“Hi… Joshua texted me he dropped off the food?” Jun sounds timid, careful almost.

“Yeah, he did,” you play with the food without raising any to your lips, “I hope you paid him.”

“No, but I owe him one,” he chuckles, still tense, “You know how he is.”

You hum. You do. But that still doesn’t mean your boyfriend should take advantage of his friend’s kindness to bring you food when he’s too busy. It’s not like any of them ever have too much time on their hands to be doing this.

“I… I just thought it would be okay this way,” his voice softens, “That you could avoid social interaction but still get the food delivered. I told Shua to leave you alone.”

You hum again. Not that you mind talking to Jun, he’s always the only exception, but you’re tired. And hungry, yet the idea of picking up the food, chewing, swallowing just seems so exhausting.

“I’m sorry,” Jun’s voice drops into a whisper, “But you need to eat.”

“I know,” you murmur, “And thank you. It’s just I really don’t feel like it even though I’m so hungry right now.”

It’s quiet on the other side for a moment, and then you hear him talking away from the phone - asking Soonyoung for a short break. You can’t hear what the response is but the next thing you hear is the door closing and Jun’s fast steps.

“What happened?” you ask, smiling a little as you imagine your boyfriend speeding through the corridors.

“I’ll facetime you in a bit, yeah? We can eat together,” his voice is full of determination and confidence that you don’t share.

“You’re going to eat in the middle of practice?” your eyebrow raises on its own.

“...Yes.”

There’s another slight pause.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” you chuckle. You still haven’t found the will to take a bite. Sharing a meal with Jun sounds nice, though. It’s highly unlikely it’s actually going to help with the predicament you’re in but the idea really is nice.

“You don’t have to eat much, I won’t either,” he coaxes you softly. You hear more doors opening and closing. Then something that sounds like a fridge and him rummaging around. “Just eat something, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” you promise.

“I’ll turn on the camera now,” Jun warns while he, at least judging by the sound, puts the food in the microwave. 

You just admire his pretty face while he waits for the food to warm up and try to push down the nausea. It’s hunger, it must be. But it does nothing to help you feel like eating. Your boyfriend yaps on about his day so far, about the practice, whines a little about how hard the new choreo is. It’s soothing, comforting. Ultimately, though, it doesn’t help much.

New wave of guilt washes over you when he sits down with his food and looks at you hopefully. You need to eat. You really need to. If for no other reason, then at least so that he doesn’t worry and can fully focus on the practice.

Finally you force your hands to move, your lips to open and your jaws to chew the first bite. Jun’s bright smile feels much better than the food you swallow.

“There we go,” he whispers to himself, trying to bite back the smile as he digs into his own lunch. You hear it anyway.

You smile a little too as you fight against your head to share a meal with him.

[siolixz]

ღ Of Love and Loyaltyღ

One-Shot

+18

<Part 1> <Part 3: final>

Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader

Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She and Oz have developed a relationship of sorts and now she changed based on her circumstances and everything she has around her. Reader is a young girl infatuated with a man decades older than her- who is also very dangerous and powerful (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)👌 Oz's mom is actually dead in this story. I will write a third and final part to this after the last episode. Everyone in this story is 18+ and consenting 100%.

Enjoy, give some feedback if you want. (>‿◠)✌

Warnings: violence, age-gap relationship, smut(¬‿¬)

You finally made something of yourself. Sure it was all blood money, but you did- you did what you had to do to survive and not only that, to thrive. 

Before leaving he told you to get in the car while he talked to Sofia outside, when you got back he was on his knees- a gun pointed at his face. You acted on impulse and drove the car into one of the guys there; best thing you could’ve done at the moment he told you.

 You would think that planning to escape would distance you from him but it did the opposite- even after wrecking his car, that poor gorgeous car; you’ve never been in one as fancy before- let alone drive it.  

“I’m so-sorry about your car.” you said as you stared at it in flames. 

“Yeah- what're ya gonna do 'bout it- only the good die young.” he came closer to you and grabbed the back of your head- forcing you to look at him. “Don’t be sad about it- you’re worth a thousand more to me.” 

He told you that you two were “really in it now”- and he couldn’t have been more right about that.

He got the Bliss operation back from the Maroni family by burning the mother and the heir apparent to their family- together. His brutality frightened you but If he wanted to rule the mob- he had to be brutal and unwavering in his choices, at least that’s what you told yourself to justify what he had done. Now not only Sofia Gigante was after you, but also Sal Maroni.

In the weeks following you had your own operation- underground, in a sewer system that connected you to all of Gotham, you became Oz’s eyes and ears above ground, traveling on your motorcycle- giving him news about the world above and delivering his money directly in his hands. He had given you your own gun—"just in case someone messes with you"—though you never ended up using it.

 Oz trusted you, even after your attempt at an escape- he moved you two to an apartment on the East Side, one that reminded you of your old one; without electricity but it did its job. In the apartment you got very close to him, you got to know him much better and you changed too in the meantime, you were more confident- more sure of yourself next to him. 

He was all you had, the one person who made you feel like you were the center of his world. One night- he came "home" late, as he often did. You were already in bed, curled up and trying to stay warm when you felt the familiar weight of his body sinking into the mattress. He slid under the covers and pulled you close, and you sighed, finally feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

"The people in charge really don’t give a fuck about us," you murmured, exhaustion lacing your voice. It was a tired frustration—being cold at work and now being cold at home. Winter was coming, and your mind drifted to families with children who needed warmth.

He took a deep breath. The long days weighed heavily on him; managing his people and the constant stress left him drained. Most nights, he would grab a bite, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, cold or not, he’d fall into a deep sleep. You’d take advantage of those moments, cuddling close and pulling his heavy arm over you. Oswald slept like a rock.

"I’ll do something about it," he said, his deep voice vibrating through you. In the weeks you’d been together, you’d learned how to speak to him, how to make him feel powerful—your man, your only one. He was the only man who had ever made you feel this way, and you couldn’t deny the rush you felt watching him command respect when he barked out orders to his men, a cigar perched between his lips. God, he was handsome. Your stomach would flutter every time you caught a glimpse of him, even if only for a second.

He was a towering presence, terrifying when he loomed over you, and seeing him angry was enough to scare you senseless. But it also sets your heart racing for other reasons too.

Before the club, his gaze never strayed from you; now, it was his hands that constantly sought you. He couldn't help himself when you were close, sometimes grabbing you in public like an eager kid in a candy shop. You learned that when he called you into his "office," it meant he was either seething with anger or burning with desire—either way, you knew he’d end up taking it out on you. 

He’d told you more than once that he hadn’t felt this alive in years, and you could sense the shift in everything he did—from the way he spoke to the intensity in the way he fucked you. He had changed.

You told him about Squid- about how he came up to you today- asking you where you got your clothes- “what shit you got cooking” - Oz asked you if it was going to be a problem, you told him no; he could count on you- you won’t let him down.

“You know, I think you’re the only thing keeping me good, doll.” he traced circles on your arm. If you were keeping him good, what was Oz like when bad? The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt his hands traveling under the blanket and beneath the sweater and t-shirt you had on and you proceeded to hiss once they made contact with your skin “your hands are so cold” you said and he chuckled.

The next day, you made true to your promise and met up with Squid- you had a plan, of course you did, you would give him some money and hope he would leave you alone.

Of course the dumb bastard declined the money- of course he tried to intimidate you to “bring him to the big man” or else he was gonna go to the Maronis or Falcones- maybe they would help him; the fuck was he thinking?  That a small-time asshole like him could make a deal with Oz? 

So many thoughts were running through your head, what if you did bring him to Oz? You didn’t want to bother him, he had enough stuff he had to worry about- plus the things Oz would do to him were too graphic to think about. What if you ran? No, he would catch you- probably beat the shit out of you too. Shit.

“Ok, I’ll take you to him.” you said as you were going down the steps, him following. Fuck-fuck you had to shoot him, this motherfucker was going to ruin whatever you had going on.

You had to shoot him, no other time better than now- your pistol was in the front of your jeans. Do it now.  You grabbed your gun from your pants and before you knew it, you turned around and pulled the trigger. 

When you opened your eyes, Squid was gripping his throat- blood was coming out in buckets- he stared at you and your shocked face. Neither of you believing what you just did. Your breathing was becoming heavier and heavier- almost gasping for breath- you just shot someone- he was going to die. 

Oh god, he was dying. You watched as the light drained from his eyes and you didn’t want to stick around to see him pass so you ran- you ran to your motorcycle and then you drove above the speed limit, probably breaking a few laws too until you got underground.

 He was probably dead by now- you just killed him. You never realized that you were crying as well; you ran to his office and thanked the lord that no one was around to see you. 

You opened the door and there he was, wearing a well tailored shirt and a vest- writing something down- money next to him. He quickly looked up as he heard you come in and then dropped his head down to continue what he was writting “Well look who decided to pay me a visit”,  he muttered with a smirk; you tried to control your sobs and when he heard the shallow breath you took to steady yourself- he looked up again “The fuck happened?” he immediately got up and went towards you.

You told him what happened between sobs as he held you on his lap, seated in his chair.  You told him everything; about Squid- how he threatened to go to the Falcones or the Maronis- how you knew you had no choice and while leaning back he told you that it will get easier, this isn’t the end of the world.

“You wanna know something?” He grabbed your face and made you look at him “You did what was right, you protected yourself, what you have. No one can take that from you- I’m proud of you.” Your sad demeanor was gone by now and replaced with the familiar warmth you had whenever he said something like this.

 He kissed you and brought your body and embraced you “You’ve grown so much in these weeks, you’re no longer the kid that used to sneak around buildings-” you kissed him, bringing his lower lip between your lips. You wanted to forget- forget what happened and what you did- he always made you forget all your worries, you only ever thought about him when you were in his presence. He put his arm beneath both of your legs as you were sitting and you almost yelped when he got you on his desk.

“Oz-” Ok, maybe getting him started wasn’t the best idea, whenever you got him going he would forget about the windows in his office or the fact that someone might hear you.

You tried to bring one of your legs between the two of you, trying to stop him “-Oz, when we are home” you tried to reason with the man, even if getting fucked in his office would turn you on in the worst ways and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t getting wet already.

 He loved the power he would hold over you- whenever he would manhandle you in any position he would like or whenever he would order you to do something- you couldn’t lie, you liked it too; sometimes he would have you suck his cock as he solved the men's pay, sometimes he would have you on all fours on his bed- Oz was a man that loved to be in control, to be number one- the best. You knew that. 

He was already getting your jacket off, “Oz-” he grabbed the money from the table and placed it away from you two, before getting back to kissing and groping you.

He grabbed hold of your clothed pussy and from the feeling of his hand there- you raised your butt slightly up and pushed back into him.

 This relationship that you two had, it made you feel like a woman- it was so different than the one you had with Robert, where it was just light touches on your face and small kisses- Oswald was a man, whenever he wanted you, he would have you and it made you feel as if you were wanted and desired- it made you feel alive.

He stopped and you knew someone was probably at the door. Shit- this is so embarrassing, you looked down and without making eye contact, went into the small room connecting to his office- he had a bed there, a small one; not big enough for two people to sleep comfortably but it was something. It was also way more warm in here than outside where everyone else was working. 

You took your sweater off and sat on the bed, while listening to what he was saying to the guy that came in, something about the meeting he had and a surprise. You had to ask him about that, but after he was done with you.

 Your heart was beating out of your ches- the door opened. 

He looked at you and made small steps towards the bed, you were smiling while scooting back- with butterflies dancing in your stomach; wondering what he was gonna do next when he grabbed both of your legs and placed them on either side of him before joining you on the bed- on top of you.

One of his hands immediately went to your ass, giving him easier access to rubbing himself over you and the other one was supporting him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as your lips met his. Despite the darkness and heaviness of the moment, he still radiated a magnetic presence—full of charisma as ever, his scent enveloping you in a way that made everything else fade. From the sharpness of his aftershave to the depth of his cologne, he had it all. He started pushing himself even harder against you, where it was almost painful; you moaned in his mouth and against his tongue. 

He raised himself on his knees on the bed, casting a shadow over you and ordered you to take your jeans off and get on all fours while he was taking his vest off and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Your hands were shaking a little bit as you unbuttoned your pants and took them off.

After you obeyed him and raised your butt in the air, he grabbed hold of it- to angle you how he wanted; excitement so palpable you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, almost laughing. You felt him slowly enter you, giving you a few small moments to adjust to his size- you closed your eyes and moaned, you don’t think you’re ever gonna get enough of this man; all of him.

“Oh baby-” he was always so vocal during sex. 

The feeling of him stretching you out and the feeling of him pushing himself in you in and out- whenever he would press himself back in, he brushed up against your g-spot- the sound of his body when it connected to yours was so loud- it made your cheeks burn- you were so wet and he didn’t even touch you all that much, like that night at the club. He had a gun under your chin and you were so wet, who even were you anymore?

You arched your back, consciously making yourself as pleasing as possible for him. The act itself sent a thrill through you, but it also made your cheeks flush with a mix of desire and shy uncertainty- the usual girlhood embarrassment that flushed your cheeks overtaking your body whenever he had you like this. 

When he found his rhythm- while grabbing your waist and pushing you back into him, he’d shower you with praise. “You take me so well… you’re such a good girl—my good girl.” He knew exactly how to make your stomach flip with words like that—this old dog. 

He pulled you back against him time and time again before you felt like it was almost painful, your moans of pleasure mixing with those of pain.

He pulled himself out and got on his back next to you, ”Come ‘ere” you giggled in excitement- he loved whenever you rode him.

You squatted over him- your legs on either side of his body and with one of your hands- you brought his cock between your legs and you watched closely as his stupid grin was wiped from his face when you lowered down on him, mouth open- you gave him a quick peck on his lips. Your legs were almost shaking and a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. 

From this position you could feel him so deep inside- you started to grind yourself on him- it felt so good; you almost started crying again. 

Oz grabbed your tits from underneath your shirt and was slowly pushing himself deeper in you “You’re my girl- I’m so proud-” he groaned as he said that, this mountain of a man- beneath you, between your thighs; you felt like you held the power “-I’m so proud of you.” 

From this position you could feel him brushing against your clit, the feeling only making you go faster, the thrill of reaching your peak on him taking over “easy…easy” he repeated- obviously, you didn't listen. 

You shifted the tempo, lifting yourself up before sliding back down, causing him to grimace. Without missing a beat, he pulled your upper body down, pressing you flush against him- you pressed your face against his shoulder and he grabbed it- holding it there; the cold feeling of his rings compared to how hot your face was giving you goosebumps.

You felt him adjust his legs and from this position he started to fuck you how he wanted to. He thrived on being in charge, practically reveled in the power it gave him. God, your throat was dry- you were sure you would be sore down there after you two were done.

 You knew anyone walking by could 100% hear you at this point, you tried to be quiet but to no avail with this man. Oz seemed to like whenever people would stare at the two of you and it excited him to think anyone would be listening in.

You brought your face up when he slowed down and kissed him, putting your tongue in his mouth. This felt so amazing but you knew he probably had places he had to be. “Do I make you feel good baby?” you nodded, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the right side of his face, right on the thick scar that ran from his mouth to his cheekbone.

He was a strikingly intimidating man, his features hardened by a life of danger. You slowly brought yourself down and up- trying to match his movements. 

“You get so tight around me-” he placed his arm over you, bringing you as tight as he could on him. 

One of your hands went under the pillow he had under his head and the other was gripping the side of the bed. His rhythm was becoming sloopy- switching between fucking you and kissing you, on your cheeks or on your mouth; he grabbed your ass in both of his hands, squeezing and pushing you down on him while he fucked you. 

You looked in his eyes, the light from above casting a shadow over them that only added to his allure.  “-I’m gonna cum” you nodded again- words escaping you “Tell me where-tell me” he closed his eyes- you knew he would start with that, the only way he finished was inside you. 

Whether it was your mouth or your pussy. Oz loved when you would describe how he felt in you, how you loved when he would fuck you- how you wanted him to cum in you. It turned him on. It turned him on how embarrassed you would feel most of the time he made you say those things.

You told him you wanted it inside and It wasn’t long before he started his fast pace again and you closed your eyes, trying not to moan as loud as you would like- fuck he felt so good. It mustn't have been long before you felt him slow down and the familiar feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you. You had to drink some water- your throat was hurting. Oz hugged you close to him and while one of his hands was rubbing your back he kissed your forehead- “You feeling better?”.

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

Author's note: Bro you just fucked him AGAIN?

Finished there the story because I KNEW i would start writing a lot and I wanna finish part 2 in time for the finale. I'm sososos excited for it and sad it will end ugh. Anyways hope you enjoyed and thank you to all the people that wrote nice things to me regarding my writing, I've been having some health problems lately and your messages made me feel so much better, truly. Have a nice day :))))))

[lurkingshan]

Every You, Every Me

Story 4 (Part 2)

Picking up from where we left off.

Man, you should NEVER butt into a harassment situation without actually knowing what is going on. I would have left, too.

Sad, though, I was hoping for more sex and dick jokes instead of drama.

This plot has taken a weird turn. And kind of a boring one tbh. I don't really care about this Phukan drawing credit conflict. Let's get back to what we're here for, please.

Thank you, show 🙏🏻

Ope, James from the flashbacks is indeed an ex. He looked so uncomfortable at that marriage proposal? Weird vibe since it seems they didn't actually break up, but perhaps just a weak acting moment.

I love it when romance shows remind us it's fine and normal to have significant past relationships and people can love more than one person in their life and there's no need to be weird about it.

Okay that said this love confession and "I can't live without you" feels pretty fast for these two.

This shot through the shower curtain is strange, it's making Sian look like a ghost.

Hell yeah, rip the towel off! I love that we keep seeing shots of those painted blue nails.

Sian looks gorgeous in the window in that morning light.

Oh no he's singing... okay it's not nearly as bad as a lot Thai drama singing, I survived.

Cuuuuute montage during that song.

It must be said though that "you're my favorite musical note/you're my favorite work of art" are such cheesy lines.

Hahahaha little brother you really need to start knocking.

HEY THEY ARE MONTAGING ACROSS THE STORIES ALL OF A SUDDEN

OMG @twig-tea was right!!!! They are actors making a series of BLs yasssssssssssss

"You and Your Beautiful Soul" is the show they're currently making.

Is this breakup scene yet another BL, or the real guys?? OMG

New names Pun and Inn (which matches with the previous brief glimpse of BTS). I think these are the actual actors who have been playing all these other characters.

FIAT IS BACK

YEP, they showed up to set upset from their breakup.

"You're not me, you don't understand." WTF that line is the same as in the breakup we just watched.

Oh, so they breakup and make up frequently.

Who is this sassy tall man 👀

Ope, and next week we seem to be staying with this story of the actors instead of changing up again. This has been the real narrative all along, and it tracks well with the stuff I noted in my binge watch--the changing names, the performances getting better as the episodes go on, the way the physical intimacy differed so much and built to be stronger across each story. All of that makes perfect sense if they're an actor pair working together across multiple shows and getting more seasoned and comfortable as they go. Such a smart concept. I'm curious if we'll learn when they started dating and about the arc of some of those previous breakup and makeups against their BLs. I hope so!

[changingplumbob]

With the pancakes cooked the pair sat down to breakfast.

Silver: Did you sleep well

Glenn: Yeah I did actually. Is that like an old person thing to ask

Silver: I'm not that old

Glenn: You won't tell me your age so in my brain that translates to old

Silver: *chuckling* I'm trying to be mysterious. So you're really okay from the whole bachelor challenge now? You're not just pretending

Glenn: I thought it wasn't good practice to discuss ex's with someone attractive that you can imagine developing feelings for

Silver: You only imagine? I must be doing something wrong

Glenn: No! You're not- I mean... your brother was the first time I properly fell in love so it was a big thing to get over but- I don't want you to think I'm pining for him when I'm not so that's why I'm trying not to mention him

Silver: Good. Because I do like you Glenn. I don't really have any flowery prose to say it in but being around you feels...

Glenn: Amazing? Mind blowing? Like you want to both listen to me prattle on and kiss my mouth to make me shut up?

Silver: I was going to say comforting but sure, let's go with those

Glenn looked down at his plate and felt warm inside. He didn't want Silver to leave tomorrow, but he had to remind himself Silver was still here for now. He was attracted to Silver but saying plainly what his feelings were... he had no experience with that. Relationships were still foreign to him after so much of his life was spent keeping people at arms distance.

Silver: So what do you want to do today then

Stay sitting here talking. Get lost in your eyes. Finally get a glimpse of the abs you claim to have.

Glenn: Well the weathers nice so a run could be good. Then maybe some fishing

Silver: Oh I love fishing! That sounds like a good plan

Glenn: Got any tips you could give me? My fishing skill is still rather low

Silver: I guess you'll just have to wait and see

Glenn: Ah, do you want a proper shower? I need to get changed but I can wait-

Silver: As much as I enjoy your abs I'll let you get changed first. I may have been living outside for decades but I can still be a gentleman

Glenn got changed quickly and left Silver to do what he needed. Trying not to think about what Silver looked like undressed under hot water he headed back downstairs and got startled seeing a visitor at the door.

Glenn: Ophelia! Why didn't you knock

Ophelia: Oh I saw you letting me in so I knew I didn't need to knock for it to happen

Glenn: Right. Well uh... this isn't really a good time for visitors

Ophelia: *quietly* Because of Silver

Glenn: What? How did you know about him? I put extra shields over the house

Ophelia: Ah Glenn... I see the future remember?

Glenn: So... you've seen him sticking around? Staying?

Ophelia: Not exactly. Can I come in?

Glenn let her inside and was filled with an undefinable nervousness.

Ophelia: You know I can't tell you exactly what I see

Glenn: *sighs* Because it's like cheating

Ophelia: You remembered! I wish Drusilla would remember, and Carmine, and-

Glenn: Ophelia?

Ophelia: Hmm? Oh yes, point. Well I've seen enough to know what his name is and that he's here at the moment

Glenn: He told me he's not the best at meeting new people

Ophelia: Oh I don't meet him now, just talk to you. But it's tricky. So I'm telling you this stuff as your friend okay? Not as a fortune

Glenn: Now you're making me nervous

Ophelia: Everyone heals at different speeds from different hurts and running can be a survival method. It doesn't mean someone doesn't care about what they're running from. And just because someone runs doesn't mean they don't want to come back, okay? Sometimes we need to meet people on their terms. Can you get the door for Miranda?

Glenn: *confused* Can I get the door for Miranda?

Ophelia: Yes she'll be here in ten seconds. Nine, eight...

Glenn got up and sure enough when he got to the door he opened it in time to let Miranda and a box in.

Ophelia: You finished it

Miranda: Considering you saw it finished before I did I think it's odd you need to ask

Ophelia: *shrugs* I am odd

Glenn: Is the box for me

Miranda: Yes

Ophelia: No

Miranda: So you wanted me to make it to give to Glenn but it's not for Glenn

Ophelia: Don't worry, he knows who to give it to

Glenn opened the given box. Inside was a cellphone.

Glenn: I already have a phone

Ophelia: That's why it's not for you. Miranda say the stuff you're going to say

Miranda: Ah, right. Well I combined the latest technology and a little bit of magic in this baby. Basically it has satellite reception capabilities combined with magic stability. So wherever the person who has the phone is, they'll always have signal and be able to call and text

Glenn: Reception, anywhere?

Miranda: Mmhmm. Whether they're on a glacier, or deep in a cave, or smack bang in the middle of a forest. This phone will get a signal, the person will be reachable, as per Ophelia's request

Glenn was in shock. He didn't even know if Silver knew what a phone was but... it was so much better than relying on snail mail when he left. Which from this gift it seemed like he would be doing as planned tomorrow. Ophelia got up and pulled him in to a big hug.

Ophelia: Stay strong Glenn

Glenn: Thanks Ophelia

Ophelia: Come on Miranda. Glenn is busy now

Miranda: He's literally just standing in his living room but whatever floats your boat. Later Glenn

Glenn waved them off and steeled himself to go upstairs and talk to Silver.

Previous ... Next

[httpmellari]

woah how does one use tumblr??

“ like always, — bub. ”

poolverine oneshot | no warnings besides some mild sexual jokes and mentions of blood | FLUFF

· · ─────────────────── · ·

most people think that wade wilson — better known as deadpool — is completely unable to share a sweet moment with an individual without making jokes about the sexual innuendo that filled the air.

and while that’s 100% true,in certain moments,when he’s still groggy with sleep,cuddled up with somebody,it’s more than guaranteed that his brain,fogged up by the amount of sleep he had just gotten,won’t be able to process the sentences enough to make a sexual joke in reply — if he didn’t have any nightmares, that is.

and maybe that was what logan loved most. — and LOOK,not that they don’t have the freakiest sex drive ever,but sometimes a soft awakening thanks to the warm sun seeping through the blinds is just what he needed.

and that was what was happening. probably thanks to the previous night.

which i won’t go in too much detail about,however,i can assure you that the honda odyssey was NOTHING compared to it.

· · ─────────────────── · ·

Logan burrowed deeper into the warmth of Wade’s chest,all spooned up in his arms; the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby that chased away the remnants of the night’s dreams. The sunlight poured in gently, casting a soft glow over the room, illuminating the tangled sheets and the two bodies entwined within them.

With a soft grunt, Logan stretched out like a lazy cat (like one that was left by the dumpster for a week,but that’s another thing.) his muscles unfurling as he extended his limbs, pushing against the mattress with a sleepy determination. The bed creaked softly in response, the frame shifting under the weight of his solid form. It was a symphony of motion—Logan’s broad shoulders and defined chest rolling into Wade, who melted into the mattress, his arms instinctively tightening around him.

Logan’s head was still nestled in the crook of Wade’s shoulder, the soft fabric of his shirt brushing against his cheek as he inhaled the faint scent of lotion and the lingering trace of warm skin. He could feel the subtle rise and fall of Wade’s chest, a soft pillow for his morning reverie. With a lazy flick of his wrist, he let out a low growl, a half-assed attempt to shake off the drowsiness, and stretched again, arching his back like a feline.

As he stretched, Logan felt the familiar twinge of soreness ripple through his muscles, a reminder of the previous night’s escapades. He grunted again, this time louder, a gruff sound that rumbled in his throat.

“Ugh, damn it, Wade,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. “I’m too old for this shit.”

“Too old for what, exactly?”

Wade replied, his voice still thick with the remnants of sleep, the cheeky undertone unmistakable even in his drowsy state.

“I thought we were both very much alive and ‘kicking’ each other’s asses—or, at least, one of us was. You just laid there grunting like an overstuffed cat.”

Logan cracked one eye open, peeking up at Wade.

“Yeah, well, this ‘overstuffed cat’ has his ribs crushed trying to turn over for an hour. Thanks for that,” he shot back, letting his head settle back against Wade’s chest, the warmth still inviting despite the lumpiness of the shared mattress.

“Hey, you know I’m not responsible for your physical state,” Wade said, a smirk evident in his tone. “I mean, have you seen yourself? You’re the human embodiment of a muscle truck, and yet you complain like a squirrel who stubbed its toe on a tree. It’s downright adorable.”

Logan snorted, half-amused and half-annoyed.

“This adorable muscle truck is going to stick you on the couch for a week if you keep this up,” he grumbled, stretching again, this time more exaggeratedly, eliciting another creak from the bed, as if the frame itself was groaning in sympathy.

“Consider it price of admission for sharing your life with me,”

Wade countered, and Logan could almost hear the grin in his words.

“Just think of it as a reminder that our love is like, well, a good taco—slightly messy but oh-so-worth-it.”

“Love tacos now?” Logan muttered, trying to find a comfortable position amidst the soft chaos of limbs and blankets. Despite the soreness, there was something perfectly soothing about their banter, the easy flow of conversation wrapping around him like a warm cloak.

“Why not? Tacos are exciting, delicious, and they can really spice up a boring meal,” Wade quipped, a playful glint shining in his eyes, even while he remained semi-horizontal.

“Besides, your refusal to admit how awesome I am just makes me want to tease you more. It’s like a taco with extra hot sauce—way too tempting to resist.”

“are you gonna stop with the tacos?” Logan rolled his eyes, though a small smile crept onto his lips. “Keep talking like this and I’ll be tempted to throw you out of this bed myself.”

“Is that before or after I get to take you out to brunch?” Wade asked, feigning innocence as he shifted slightly, causing Logan to feel the warmth of his skin even through the thin fabric of their clothes.

“Brunch? Do you even know what time it is?” Logan replied, suppressing a yawn that threatened to break free, still half lost in the comfort of their cocoon.

“Time to start thinking about breakfast. I mean, since the ‘muscle truck’ is so sore, the least I can do is prepare some carbs to revive you,” Wade said, making a show of trying to move out from underneath Logan’s weight.

“No. Stay here,” Logan insisted, though he knew he wouldn’t actually stop Wade if he wanted to get up. “I’ll just—uh, I’ll curl up and get some more sleep. The soreness will sort itself out.”

“Now who’s being adorable?”

Wade chuckled, but just as he shifted again, Logan feigned a playful growl. In one swift motion, he unsheathed his claws, the glint of adamantium catching the morning light as they punctuated the space between them. Without much thought, and driven entirely by a mix of sleep and mischief, Logan pressed his claws into Wade’s chest, eliciting a dramatic gasp from the merc,the blood staining the bed sheets.

“Is that how you’re gonna play it today?” he said, his voice teasing despite the extremely mild pain. “You know, I’ve had worse wake-up calls. It’s kind of sexy, actually. A little stab-and-go action to start the day.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t be encouraging me,” he said, though the corners of his mouth were betraying him, twitching into a smile.

Wade arched an eyebrow, looking down at the crimson spot blooming on the new bedsheets.

“Oh, great. Bloodstains before breakfast? I was gonna try to keep the place looking classy!"

He quipped, feigning distress as he playfully pressed a hand to his chest where Logan's claws had punctured. “And here I thought last night was already going to leave its mark on the sheets. Looks like it’s both of our faults—talk about a messy night!”

Logan's eyes darted down to the growing patch of red, and he couldn't help but let out a small snort of laughter. “awh shit’ now they’re even dirtier.“

“Relax, peanut. You know the drill,” Wade interrupted, flashing a grin that could only be described as devilish. “Besides, I think it’s an improvement. Gives the bed some character, don’t you think?”

Logan let out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head slightly as he withdrew his claws. “You’re stupid,and insane.” he said, but his tone was surprisingly affectionate, the tenderness rising in spite of the ridiculous situation.

“If I remember correctly, ‘insane’ is just a fancy way of saying ‘free-spirited’,”

Wade quipped back, shifting to give Logan a playful nudge. “But hey, since you already got the sheets all messy, wanna grab some breakfast together? I’ll make you a mocha-flavored protein shake to help with your ‘old man’ muscles, and I’ll even throw in some of those fabulous pancakes you love. — without burning the kitchen,this time.”

Logan poked him in the shoulder, still slightly irritated at the sight of new blood staining the sheets.

“I’ll just have a plain old cup of coffee on my own — on the couch, if you’re that keen to sleep on a blood-soaked mattress.”

“ ain’t you just sour in the mornin’ peanut? “

“like always, bub.”

· ───────────── ·

art by: drizzledrawings on ig

[sonotcopingatall]

vacation gone wrong

sana x fem!reader

synopsis: you and sana, workaholic doctors, go on a vacation for a week. no phones, no surgeries, just the two of you. what could go wrong?

wc: 2.7k

warnings: i’d say none. it’s just really fluffy with chaos lol

it was supposed to be the perfect anniversary getaway.

sana, your brilliant and often frustratingly busy cardiothoracic surgeon wife, had been working her ass off for months. saving lives, performing surgeries, managing a department full of patients - she was damn good at it. but even she knew she needed a break. so, you’d both agreed: a week in a cozy, secluded cabin by a quiet lake. no phones, no surgeries, just you two, and maybe some wine and cuddling. a fucking dream, right?

you’d been married for five years now, which felt both like a lifetime and like it had all happened yesterday. both of you were workaholics, driven by the same damn passion for helping others. but this? this was about you two. about the break you both desperately needed.

but of course, the universe had other plans.

it started innocently enough. you and sana were driving through the winding mountain roads, music playing low in the background. you were laughing about something dumb - the kind of stupid, inside joke only long-term couples could understand. sana’s hand was resting on the gearshift, and you kept sneaking glances at her because, let’s be real, she was hot as hell, even after five years.

“can you believe we’ve been married for five years?” you ask, your voice dripping with affection.

sana smirks, eyes soft. “feels like just yesterday we were sitting in that little coffee shop, bitching about how insane our schedules were.”

you chuckle. “i remember you telling me you’d never have time for a relationship.”

“did i?” she laughs, glancing over at you, her eyes glinting mischievously. “i must’ve been lying.”

“damn right you were.” you poke her shoulder playfully, but just as you do, a sudden, bone-shaking screech fills the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of metal crunching. the car jerks to the side.

“hold on!” sana yells, her voice suddenly sharp and focused. she yanks the wheel to avoid a head-on collision with an out-of-control truck, its tire blown, veering into your lane.

your heart slams in your chest as sana wrestles with the wheel, your stomach flipping as the truck skids past. you blink, trying to regain your bearings, your pulse hammering.

“you good?” sana asks, voice tight, eyes scanning you. her hands are already checking the dashboard, her medical mind clicking into high gear.

you nod, trying to calm the hell down. “yeah, i’m fine. are you?”

“i’m good,” she mutters, still scanning the road. “i’m pulling over to check on them.”

you open your mouth to protest, to remind her that this was supposed to be vacation, but she’s already out of the car, her white coat flapping as she rushes to the truck. you can’t help but roll your eyes. “sana, seriously?”

you follow her anyway, because what else are you going do? you’re both doctors. you’ve seen your fair share of chaos. but when you see the truck driver, an elderly man sitting in his seat, looking a little dazed but otherwise fine, your worry shifts to something else entirely: a motorcycle zooming towards you from behind, clearly out of control.

you spin around, your stomach dropping. “sana! get down!”

but it’s too late. the bike rider is coming in too fast, and before you can even think, the rider crashes into a tree just a few feet from where sana is kneeling by the truck driver.

fuck.

sana’s on her feet before you can blink, already running toward the downed rider, her doctor instincts kicking in. you follow her, your own heart in your throat, your mind racing. the woman on the bike is unconscious but breathing, and sana’s hands are all business, checking for any injuries.

you try not to stare at her, but goddamn, you’re impressed. it’s always hot when she’s in “doctor mode,” but watching her save people like this? it’s next-level.

the next few hours blur together. you both take care of the elderly truck driver, call for an ambulance, and tend to the motorcycle rider, who thankfully wakes up, grumbling about how she’s going to be “so sore tomorrow.” you’re just glad she’s alive. by the time the paramedics arrive, you’re both covered in dirt and leaves, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

you climb back into the car, still trying to catch your breath. “do you think we’ll actually make it to the cabin this time, or is that asking too much?”

sana glances at you, shaking her head and smirking. “you really think this is it? the universe’s done with us? babe, we’re not even close to being done yet.”

you laugh, but you both know she’s right. you’ve barely started the damn vacation and already the universe is giving you a full course of bullshit. but, as you glance over at her - tired but unshaken, a little dirt streaked across her cheek, but still radiant - you feel a surge of fondness. maybe this is it. maybe it’s not about the vacation. it’s about surviving this shitshow together.

the next day, after a restless night full of nightmares and whispered reassurances from your wife, you start the drive again. you’re both cautiously optimistic as you cruise through a forested section of the road, sunlight flickering through the trees.

but of course, just as you round a bend, there’s a loud cracking sound. a deer bolts out of the trees, eyes wide with terror, running straight into your path.

“sana, fucking stop!” you shout as she slams on the brakes, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as the car skids across the gravel. the deer bounds away, a blur of brown and panic. the car comes to a stop, just barely missing it.

you both exhale like you’ve been holding your breath the entire time. “okay, okay, that’s it,” you mutter, hands trembling. “i think we should just go home.”

“no.” sana’s tone is firm, eyes steely, even though you know she’s just as rattled as you are. “we’re fine. we’ve got this.”

you both know damn well that you’re far from fine, but you also know that neither of you will let this stop you.

by day three, the frustration has started to settle in. another near-miss, another car accident. it’s getting fucking ridiculous. you’ve almost come to terms with the fact that this vacation is cursed when another damn van suddenly swerves into your lane, sliding toward you at a terrifying speed.

“sana!” you scream, but you know she’s already on it. the car swerves, just barely missing the van, the side mirror of the van grazing your bumper. a few seconds later, the van skids into a ditch.

another. fucking. near-miss. you’ve both barely processed it when you pull over once more.

“okay, okay,” you mutter, voice a little raw. “maybe we’re just not supposed to have a vacation, huh?”

sana turns to you, her expression softening despite the exhaustion in her eyes. “maybe we’re just meant to be together. no matter what.”

she’s right. no matter how many times life throws a curveball, you two always come back to each other. and honestly? you wouldn’t have it any other way.

finally, on the fifth day, you both make it to the cabin. you’re bruised, battered, but somehow, more in love than ever. you’ve survived every crash, every disaster, because you had each other. the cabin door slams shut behind you, cutting off the chaos of the world.

and as you sit on the porch that evening, staring out at the peaceful lake, you feel the weight of the world finally lift. the chaos is over. for now, anyway.

“five years,” you murmur, your hand in hers as you both look up at the stars.

“five more, and five after that,” she whispers, her voice like a promise.

“maybe ten,” you grin, nudging her shoulder.

the universe can keep throwing bullshit your way, but you’ve got this. together. and that’s all that matters.

bonus scene: dinner at the lakeside restaurant

after what felt like an eternity of mishaps, you and sana finally settled into a quiet dinner at a lakeside restaurant. the space was warm, intimate, with soft lighting and the hum of conversation filling the air. you could almost forget the chaos of the past few days - the truck, the motorcycle, the deer, and everything in between. tonight, it was just the two of you, enjoying a peaceful moment.

“here’s to surviving the chaos,” you joke, raising your glass of wine and giving sana a playful grin.

she chuckles, her fingers brushing yours across the table. “yeah, but i’m not tempting fate again. let’s just enjoy this for once.”

you laugh, feeling the weight of everything you’ve been through lighten, even just a little. for a moment, it feels like the world outside doesn’t exist - you’re safe here, tucked away from the madness. but then, as if the universe has other plans, everything changes.

a loud, panicked shout breaks the calm: “someone help! my wife— she’s going into labor! oh, god, please, somebody help!”

without hesitation, you both stand up, instinctively moving toward the commotion. a man is pacing frantically between tables, his hands running through his hair as his wife bends over, clutching her stomach in pain. her face is pale, her breaths coming in shallow, jagged gasps.

without a word, you and sana exchange a look, both of you already in motion. there’s no hesitation in the way you move, no panic. you’ve been through this before - you know exactly what to do.

you approach the husband first, your voice calm but firm. “i’m a doctor. we’re going to help her. i need you to take a deep breath. you panicking isn’t going to help her right now.”

he nods shakily, his eyes wide with fear, but he tries to steady himself. “she wasn’t due yet. she’s only 28 weeks. i don’t know what to do.”

“you don’t have to do anything right now. we’ve got this,” you assure him, your hand on his shoulder for a moment before you move toward the woman. “ma’am, i’m here to help. my name’s dr. y/n, and this is dr. sana. we’re going to keep you and your baby safe, okay?”

she nods but doesn’t speak, her breath quickening. another contraction hits, and she cries out, her grip tightening around the edge of the table. her husband’s face is stricken with helplessness, but sana is already beside the woman, her hands moving quickly, checking her pulse, assessing her condition.

“ma’am, i need you to focus on your breathing,” sana says gently, her tone soothing but authoritative. “in through your nose, out through your mouth. let’s take it slow. you’re doing great.”

the woman nods, trying to follow the rhythm. her face is twisted in pain, and her hands are gripping the table, knuckles white. you step in, kneeling beside her, offering her a soft smile to help keep her calm.

“you’re doing great,” you repeat, squeezing her hand. “just breathe with me. in through your nose, out through your mouth. focus on me.”

her eyes meet yours, full of fear. “please, is my baby going to be okay?”

“yes, we’re going to make sure you both are okay,” you reassure her, glancing up at sana, who’s already keeping an eye on the woman’s vitals. her expression is controlled, but you can see the urgency in her movements.

the husband steps forward, his face twisted with anxiety. “i don’t understand… she wasn’t supposed to go into labor yet! what do we do?”

sana glances up at you, her eyes narrowing in thought. “we don’t have iv fluids here, but there’s a first aid kit in the car. i’ll grab it. it’s not much, but it could help stabilize her for now.”

the husband’s eyes widen with disbelief. “a first aid kit? what good is that going to do? my wife’s in labor early!”

sana remains calm, her voice reassuring. “it’s not ideal, but it’s what we’ve got. i’ll be right back. stay with her.”

you nod at her, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “we’ve got this,” you say to the husband, keeping your tone firm but supportive. “we just need to keep her calm, keep her breathing.”

sana rushes out the door, and you stay by the woman’s side, speaking gently as another contraction hits. “you’re doing great. just breathe with me. in, out. keep your focus. we’re here with you.”

her grip on the table loosens slightly as she follows your instructions. she winces with the pain but nods. “it hurts so much…”

“i know, but you’re strong,” you reply, your voice steady. “you’re doing everything right. stay with me.”

the husband is still holding her hand, his own face tight with fear. “we’re going to be okay,” he mutters under his breath, trying to steady himself as much as he’s trying to steady his wife.

minutes pass, and the tension in the air is suffocating. the restaurant has gone silent, all eyes on the small drama unfolding in the corner. you glance toward the door, willing the paramedics to arrive. “the paramedics are coming,” you murmur to the woman. “they’ll be here soon. you’re doing great.”

another contraction hits, and she gasps in pain. the time feels like it’s moving slower now, the seconds stretching endlessly.

just then, the door bursts open, and sana rushes back in, the first aid kit in her hands. without missing a beat, she snaps on a pair of gloves, moving toward the woman with expert precision. you meet her gaze for a split second, and in that moment, everything falls into place. this is where you both excel - in these moments, when everything is on the line.

“check her cervix,” sana says, already preparing to assist. “we need to know how far along she is.”

you grab the gloves from her, moving into position immediately. the woman winces as you gently check, and you nod, your voice steady. “she’s two centimeters dilated. early labor, but still manageable for now.”

sana checks the woman’s vitals. “her pulse is stable for now, but these contractions are getting closer together. we need to keep her calm, and we need paramedics here fast.”

the husband’s anxiety spikes again. “but they’re not here yet! i called them forever ago! where are they?”

“stay with her,” you say firmly, offering him reassurance. “the paramedics will be here any second now. we’re doing everything we can. focus on your wife. she needs you now more than ever.”

as if on cue, the paramedics rush in, taking control immediately. one of them quickly kneels beside you, and you brief him on the situation. “she’s preterm, two centimeters dilated, contractions coming every few minutes. we’ve kept her stable, but she needs to be in a neonatal unit.”

the paramedics work quickly, moving with practiced efficiency. you glance at sana, and the briefest smile passes between you. together, you’ve done what you can, and now it’s out of your hands.

as the woman is wheeled out, her husband still holding her hand, she looks up at you, her voice barely above a whisper. “thank you. thank you so much.”

you squeeze her hand gently. “you’re going to be okay. we’ve got you.”

as the paramedics disappear with the woman, you and sana stand in the quiet, watching them go. the weight of the situation lifts just a little as you turn to her.

“well,” you say, your voice quieter now, “i think that was our adrenaline for the night.”

sana chuckles, a tired smile on her face. “i swear, you thrive on chaos.”

you shrug with a grin. “guess it comes with the job.”

but as the adrenaline fades, the exhaustion sets in. you take a deep breath and, with a quick glance at sana, you both rip the gloves off, tossing them into the nearby trash bin. you take a moment to catch your breath, before sitting back down at the table. the world is starting to slow, but you still feel the adrenaline coursing through you. the meal is cold, the wine forgotten, but it doesn’t matter. you look at sana, and in her eyes, you find a quiet comfort.

“even after all of that,” she says softly, “i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, or do this with anyone else.”

you smile, squeezing her hand across the table. “me neither. no matter what happens, we’ve got this.”

and in that quiet moment, as the restaurant resumes its hum, you both find peace in the shared understanding that no matter the chaos, you’re always ready to face it - side by side.

[gothamite-rambler]

Batfamily Mitzvah: Bruce tried to make sure Selina never learned about cousin Linda

Context: As the family birthday gathering approaches—an event they can hardly stand—Kate discovers some new information about the bar mitzvah. Specifically, she learns that it's called a bar mitzvah for boys. With this fresh insight, she decides to make a surprise visit to share the news with her favorite cousin, Bruce Wayne… right in the middle of his date with Selina Kyle. Isn’t she thoughtful?

Kate strolled past the tables of a high-end restaurant, catching the attention of a few patrons who raised their eyebrows at her disheveled appearance. As she reached Bruce's table, she slapped her hand down dramatically on the surface to announce her arrival.

Kate: Bruce, have you—

Bruce: How were you able to enter this place? That's not an insult about your appearance; you already know how I feel about that. They won't allow people in unless they pay an entrance fee.

Kate (raised an eyebrow): Oh, like Golden Corral?

Bruce (frustrated): You know that's not the same.

Kate chuckled, snatching a piece of broccoli from his plate and quickly popping it into her mouth before Bruce could grab her hand.

Kate: I'm just messing with you. I told the guy at the front that I was your jilted mistress and that I'd stab him if he tried to stop me from confronting you.

She gestured toward the nervous reservation man, who trembled slightly and quickly raised his menu to hide his face as Kate waved. Bruce sighed, burying his face in his hands.

Selina (taking a sip of her wine): So I'm not the other woman? Nice.

Kate: Love your dress, Selina. You dumping him soon?

Selina laughed, shaking her head with a hint of bemusement.

Selina: You're not my type.

Kate (pointing to Bruce): He is?

Bruce (impatient): Hey, why are you really here? To embarrass me? Because it's not going to work this time.

Kate: I’ll just have to try harder then. Anyway, I messed up a few details about our cousin Linda's grandson's Bar Mitzvah. First, I got the name wrong; apparently, the girls have a Bat Mitzvah. Why didn't you tell me that?

Bruce: You mocked me for not knowing I’m Jewish, which was a mistake that can happen to anyone who watched their parents die in an alley.

Kate: I should have a jar for the times you use your orphan status as a get-out-of-jail-free card. A dollar every time it's used.

Selina (joking): You'd need more than one jar.

Bruce gave Selina a look of betrayal at her comments about him. Selina smiled, sipping from her wine glass.

Selina: I say that not to be mean, Brucie. It's just that sometimes you overuse it. Like avoiding a paintball event at your job because 'my parents were shot in an alleyway.'

Kate: Or when you ducked out of a wedding because you said it reminded you of 'Mom and Dad getting married.' You weren't even a thought when they got married.

Bruce (bending his fork): Kate, you skipped out on that wedding too!

Kate: Yeah, but I’m awesome and don’t need an excuse. I just said I wasn't going because Cousin Marty sucks and has been married nine times, and that bride number ten isn’t 'the one.'

Selina: How long did they last?

Kate: He's married to bride number twelve now. I’ve stopped bothering to learn their names, right, Bruce?

Bruce had his face covered again as Kate playfully slapped her hand against his back.

Bruce: Please circle back to the details about the Bar Mitzvah so you can leave.

Kate snapped her fingers, remembering why she originally made this visit.

Kate: I forgot the name of the synagogue, but I wrote down the directions. The party afterward is at The Grand Oak Banquet Hall, where Beth and I had our Bat Mitzvah—I got it right this time.

Kate slapped Bruce on the arm again while chuckling. Selina covered her mouth with her cloth napkin, nodding in agreement with a smile.

Kate: Linda is apparently going all out for this, and while I hate her so much, it's best we’re on our best behavior. She might put us in the will.

Bruce: I'm good.

Selina (interjecting): Linda was the one who stabbed her husband with a poker from the fireplace?

Kate: No, that was our great-aunt Susanna. Linda was the one who hit her husband with a car.

Selina (correctly guessing): After he slept with her sister, they stayed together not because they believed in marriage, but because that sister later died in a hospital fire.

Kate: That's the one! Damn, you remembered the fire too? Wow, cuzzo, you’ve got a great listener here.

Selina (pointing her thumb at Bruce): I've had decades of practice with this guy.

Bruce muttered curse words under his breath, still trying to comprehend how this was all happening during his date with Selina.

Bruce (muffled): Don't forget the part where you said you'd do the same to me after I told you the story.

Selina: I said it was on a list if you ever betrayed me.

Kate: Hot, smart, and vengeful. I can see why he loves you.

Selina: Aww, thanks.

Bruce (raising his voice): Can you just tell me why you’re here?!

Nearby patrons stared at the trio perplexed causing Bruce to blush with embarrassment. Kate smirked, pleased by his discomfort.

Kate: Right, so the Bar—not Bat—Mitzvah is going to be at that event hall at four in the afternoon, but we can be twenty or thirty minutes late. It gives us time to grab a few drinks at the bar next to the hall. I'm a regular there because of these events.

Bruce (lamenting): I hope they have strong drinks.

Kate (relating): Oh, they do. It's formal, and the color Linda picked is all shades of blue. Her son and his wife apparently have no say in the matter.

Selina (surprised): Oh wow. Wait, is it connected to an inheritance or will?

Kate (nodding): Yeah, she’s crazy but rich as hell. Like as rich as him.

Kate pointed to a mortified Bruce, who stared at his plate of steak, zoning out of the conversation, prompting Kate to flick him on the ear to get his attention.

Kate: As I was saying, she demanded blue everything because—

Kate cleared her throat.

Kate (hoity-toity New Yorker accent): "He's a boy, and boys love blue, and I'm payin' for it."

Bruce rubbed the temple of his forehead at how accurately Kate imitated their cousin. Selina listened with enjoyment, not touching her plate of salmon.

Kate: I'm thinking we could wear blue suits, but the shades need to be different because we aren’t matching. All right, Bruce? Bruce?

Selina (playfully hitting Bruce on the arm): Make sure your shade of blue doesn’t match hers.

Bruce rolled his eyes.

Bruce: Got it. Why aren’t you wearing a dress again, Kate? Worried it’ll look ridiculous on you?

Kate: I know I can rock a blue dress; I have in the past. But this is a protest so that Linda knows I’m into women and won’t try to set me up with her friend from church who totally can "change my mind about being a lesbian." I’ll wear combat boots and get a buzz cut until she sees and tolerates it. I’ve accepted that I’m never going to get to acceptance.

Kate chuckled at her own joke.

Selina (agreeing): I swear, my mother was the exact same way. I totally get wearing the suit.

Kate: Thank you, cousin-in-law. Hey, Bruce, I’m starving; I didn’t stop for food before making this important visit. I’m just going to do this real quick.

Kate took the knife next to Bruce’s plate and sliced a small piece of steak, chewing it for a few seconds while nodding.

Kate: Medium rare, good pick.

Bruce: Yeah, I was enjoying it too. Let me see if I got everything: You got the address to the synagogue, it’s at the banquet hall that side of the family has used since I was a child, Linda is insane but we have to behave so you can get her beach house in the will, the formal color for the event is blue because she’s crazy, and you want me to wear a darker shade of blue for my suit. Did I miss anything?

Kate: Bingo you got it all correct! And Lenny will be there; he got released from Oaks Asylum, and he’s going strong on being a vocal Batman truther. He hasn’t let up about that.

Selina (confused): Batman truther?

Bruce (exhausted): They think Batman is a mythical entity, which is why he always lurks in the night. They don’t consider that more crimes happen at night—nope, he's a cryptid. I stopped enjoying the rumor when it spiraled into other nonsensical conspiracy theories.

Kate quickly swiped a slice of potato from Bruce’s plate before he could react. He huffed in annoyance but reminded himself to stay calm since they were in a public restaurant.

Kate: To be fair, the guy wears a bat suit.

Selina giggled, enjoying the exchange as she sipped her wine.

Bruce: It’s not funny; he won't shut up about it. And you’re not one to talk, Kate.

Kate: Don’t be jelly; Batwoman looks better than you.

Bruce: Selina, am I actually unconscious in a hospital right now?

Selina (shaking her head): Sorry, this is real.

Kate (mocking her cousin): He’s upset I interrupted your date, like you won’t be having sex later.

Bruce groaned, tapping his fingers on the table as he desperately wished for Kate to leave.

Selina: She's not wrong, but Bruce, you've held off on asking if I want to attend this Bar Mitzvah.

Bruce: It’s better for your sanity if you don’t meet them.

Kate: Oh, come on, Bruce; she’s used to the crazier aspects of your life. She should come with us. The more the merrier… and Linda not talking to me. Fair warning, though: She likes to be called Aunt Linda by everyone except her kids, and she will ask you a ton of evasive questions about your criminal past. It's a good laugh once you realize she's batshit insane.

Selina: I've dealt with intense interrogations and my own insane family reunions. I don't mind—

Bruce (interrupting, at his limit): No, no, you are not coming. I'm doing this to protect you—

Kate (correcting): He's worried they'll embarrass him in front of you.

Bruce (pointing to the way she came in): Kate, leave! Thanks for the info, but leave now or I will have security drag you out of here.

Kate: I think I successfully embarrassed you enough, and you’re welcome. Just remember, in two weeks, we’re going to the synagogue. I know churches scare you because you’re a baby, but at least try to step foot in this one.

Bruce blinked with suppressed frustration, choosing not to reply.

Selina: That means he’ll do it.

Kate: Good, now you’re not eating that steak, and I’m still starving, so I’ll take this off your hands.

Kate quickly grabbed the plate that Bruce was still prodding at, earning a fierce glare from him. He resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting that plate back.

Kate: Oh, and this—

With a swift motion, she slapped her cousin across the face with enough force that he fell to the ground.

Bruce (high-pitched): WHY?!

Kate: I LOVED YOU, YOU BASTARD! YOU CAN HAVE HIM; HE'S BROUGHT ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF!

Selina (playing along): Yes, get out of here; he’s mine!

Kate: Good riddance.

Dramatically, Kate stormed out as Bruce recovered, sinking back into his chair while rubbing the stinging side of his face. The surrounding patrons looked on with mixed reactions—some were shocked, some disgusted by Bruce Wayne being a cheater, and two old men nodded in approval.

Selina: She is such a delight.

Bruce groaned, annoyed that he lost his meal and looked like a fool.

Bruce: She took my steak! Dang it.

Selina (sliding her plate over): Want my salmon? I'm full.

Bruce: I appreciate that; thank you. I can't believe I'm going to have to be around Linda, Lenny, and all of them. Selina, if you truly love me, please don't go.

Selina: I have insane family; I get it and won't go, but if you change your mind, I have a dress that's perfect for parties like this.

Bruce: Thank you, and I'll consider that, but for right now, let’s enjoy this date.

Selina nodded.

Selina (jokingly): You think people here will figure out she was your cousin?

Bruce closed his eyes and held his head down, sighing at that realization.

Bruce: I'm going to get her back for that.

1st part -> Batfamily Mitzvah

[zhuoyichenpretty]

ep 24 commentary (brain fried edition)

my head is a little empty after ep 24 tbh!! brain is not braining after all the zyc hurt no comfort (-:

some scattered thoughts here and there, painstakingly corralled like cats out of my vacuous brain and into a list (spoilers):

ZYZ is really emo this episode poor dude like he is having a hard time keeping it together it seems. Every other word out of his mouth is depressing as shit, which is saying a lot considering how depressing he usually is already (': I kind of wanted this episode to pick his brain more, give him room to emote in the aftermath of all that. But it almost feels like the character refuses to be alone, like he might spiral if he has too much time to get in his own head. I'm still so curious to know, though, what he thinks about the state of their promise in light of how far ZYC went trying to save him. “He has us,” ZYZ said to WX. When the time comes, I wonder how he'll reconcile that with what he’s asked of ZYC.

PSJ and Ying Lei bonding! shenanigans! I did laugh thank you guys. Also, not that the team didn't operate separately before, but I really get a sense of how much ZYC held things together with how apparent his absence is. It's obvs heartwarming seeing how hard everyone is working to save him (PSJ especially for me bc I love their mutual tacit trust and respect and all the ways they're alike and different), but ultimately it's still so angsty (':

Kind of love the couple instances where ZYC has been referred to as fragile/weak/of delicate constitution (depending on how you wanna translate it) like that's a very interesting quality to assign to basically the tank of your team. Even if the comments are made facetiously, it just reminds me of how often we witness his mortality, and of course how everything about the styling, aesthetics, and content of the flashbacks to his childhood reinforce a characterization of vulnerability at the very heart of him. I saw someone mention how the Cloud Light Sword responded to ZYC's tears and to that vulnerability rather than brute strength, and I totally agree. I love how this "fragile" characterization plays into the whole fate weapon deal. ZYC's strength is (imo) unconventional, and it is his sensitivity, his compassion, and his deep capacity to feel that the sword acknowledges, resonates with, and empowers. Almost like it protects his tender heart rather than making it something he needs to overcome to get stronger.

One thing I will never get over is how incredibly they styled TJR as baby!Yichen, adult ZYC, and Bingyi. What do you mean this is all from one drama and not three separate productions. Insane. I'm out of my mind with how gorgeous every change in costuming is.

A tangential note is I've seen people mention (paraphrasing very much here) ZYZ's demon form being nicely subtle in its eerie inhumanity and tbh I have a similar feeling even just about human adult ZYC imo. Especially when his hair is down and he's got that thick eyeliner on and we get a close up of his contacts, if you told me from the start that he's half-demon half-human or something I'd believe it. Along the same vein, baby!Yichen reads completely human to me, and Bingyi of course completely demon. Something something the Cloud Light Sword bridges the gap something. This point is unintelligible and not narratively based but I had to make it because I've been thinking "wow ZYC elven" for days now.

Saw a tag about yuanyi getting us through some dark times but man they are PUTTING me through some dark times rn help?/

Been trying to put off talking about the baby Yichen scenes because wow I cried immediately. Well, no, I was like "yay! I love seeing baby Yichen!" and then they crushed me into demon dust lol. And then WX had to tell that absolutely precious story about when she got sick and ZYZ had to go like "actually ZYC was probably lonely as fuck" and yeah that's fine I didn't need my heart anyway.

Ending on this point so I can put a pretty screencap here: There is so much gravity to just the short scene of Bingyi removing his mask and dropping to his knees with that anguished and fatigued expression. TJR's acting is the gift that keeps on giving (me angst).

so sorry if anything here didn't make sense, i currently have the same thousand-mile-stare as Bingyi the more i think about how this all might end and how long I'm gonna have to wait to find out.

[low-budget-korra]

My comments on Arcane s01

-Vi is the sister I wish I had, fr. And as an lesbian older sister myself, it wasn't hard for me to connect with her from the very first episode.And now that I've watched the show, I don't understand how some people blame her for wherever she did to Jinx. Yeah, Jinx was just a kid but guess what, so was Vi. Jinx lost everything? So has Vi.

"but Violet abandoned Powder" No! She was protecting her lil sister. And she just saw her sister murder their entire family, how y'all think she feels? And she was about to save Powder before she was kidnapped.

And the fact that she manages to be so soft and good besides everything she went through... Vi is THE exception.

-Powder/Jinx was just a kid and all but damn. Vi forgives it all she has done, and in the one time Vi needs her forgiveness, she's so quick to hate her for good. Did she really realize what she had done?

Well, now I see why some people compared her to Azula. The difference is that Azula never had anything like Vander or Vi, Jinx had that and still went nuts. And also, Azula never goes for the murder, not really when it was expected (like when she was betrayed by Mai and Ty Lee). While Jinx would give 2 shits about kill people for funzies.

Yes, I feel sympathy for her, just as much as I feel anger towards her. She is a complex character that's for sure. And mentally ill

And my hate for her is mostly for the way she treats Vi honestly

Anyway, there's this joke on Brazilian fandom that Jinx is homophobic and that's why she can't stand Caitlyn and can't stand seeing her with Vi, and I think it's honestly hilarious

-CaitVi is a wonderful ship. Nothing against the explicit and big gestures such as kissing and all but damn, I missed the subtlety. The minor and meaningful touches, the gazes...it reminded me so much of Korrasami

-I loved Jayce and Caitlyn's relationship. When united, gays and lesbians are strong.

And I still don't get why people keep pretending Caitlyn actions on s2(as far as I saw in the trailers) aren't justified. Her mom was murdered by the people she tried to help, if it was me, I would also raise hell upon them. Anyway, let's talk about s1 Caitlyn and she is just so adorable.

She really wanted to make a difference, to help. She got out of her bubble and got a taste of the real world, and I bet it hurt. She just wanted to help and to do what's right but she paid the high price and has all the right to me mad at s2

And from the way she flinched at Jinx during the "dinner" scene, at bet the hours she spent under Jinx mercy weren't nice

-Im sorry, I didn't care much about the hextec plot. I know it's important and it's what makes the character on the road but their inner struggles and their subplots are far better to watch.

The only interesting part of them was Jayce cuz he is such an interesting character. For the way I've seen people talk about them, I thought he was gonna be the worst but no. You can see he struggles with some decisions. He ain't bad, he just does bad decisions

-Ekko is such a G man. If something happens to him in s2, I will riot. I like how he is the exact opposite of Jinx.

Ekko also lost everything and everyone, but instead of Jinx, he turned his pain into something good, into helping others the way Vander and Benzo helped him and the other kids.

I wasn't expecting him to be friends with Heimerdinger but I love that for him

-Lets talk about something serious, Jinx was right in her anger towards the upper class but blowing things up was not the answer. Vander knew and saw things how it was, making deals is better than having innocent blood in the streets.In fact, I saw a lot of simplified comments about the politics and social aspects of Arcane and now that I've watched the show I see how damn immature and naive a lot of them are.

Do not get me wrong, we should rebel every time we need and violence is a part of that. No revolution happened without it. But we should be wise about the battles we pick.

Let's look at Caitlyn for example, she is born rich and a good person. It's naive to expect someone born with everything and disconnected with the lower class problems and needs, to all of sudden be an ally to social causes. Born rich and privileged doesn't necessarily mean you are born a bad person, just as much as born poor doesn't automatically make you a good person.

Now, do you think Caitlyn deserved to lose her mother like that? Do you think she deserves what Jinx did to her just because she was from Piltover? That's when you lose potential allies and gain strong enemiesIt's not that simple. Social problems such as class differences, poverty, violence...it's not something that you can fix that easily. Oh man, I wish it was but it ain't.

With all that said, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Vander...none of them are evil and most of their actions (if not all of them) have a solid reason behind it, but this doesn't mean they were the best thing to do.

-Fuck you Silco. He is what happens when you put a "wherever it cost" mentality, cuz sometimes the cost is high. Too high. Also, he doesn't want justice or revenge, he wants power

-The animation and sound design is a masterpiece too. And the fight choreography? Damn shit was fire

[glisten-inthedark]

So I watched someone's byler analysis video on youtube, and their perspective on the van scene blew my mind for some reason? Idk why I never even considered this. It seems so obvious, but it's made me think thoughts.

I love speculating abt what Mike was thinking during the van scene... but yeah they said that Mike probably knew that Will was talking about himself during the veiled love confession.

Most people think Mike is oblivious, but I have a feeling that Mike REMEMBERED that El doesn't know about the painting + that it was for 'someone Will likes'.

If Mike really, truly thought the painting was from El, and that those were El's feelings that Will talked about, why all the lip glances? Why all the longing stares and gulps and breathing? Mike felt so moved by the painting and by Will's words... if he thought they were from El, wouldn't he just stare longingly out the window or anywhere else OTHER than WILL?

The byler analyst also said that Mike's 'Yeah?' at the end was one of uncertainty - he was subtly asking for confirmation that these were Will's feelings. Like it's just dawned upon Mike that Will might have feelings for him, and his hopes are getting up. He said that sort of to 'test the waters.'

People also wonder why Mike didn't say anything when he saw Will cry into his hand. But I think:

They weren't alone, so anything said would have to be veiled anyways.

Mike and Will often speak to each other under the guise of talking abt El... it happened at Rink-O-Mania too. It would be difficult for Mike to say anything directly to Will after that van conversation, maybe?

Mike may have saw that Will needed space for a bit? Or Mike himself needed time to process their conversation and revel in the painting?

The byler analyst also said that this conversation led Mike to almost break up with El at the pizza place, which I agree with too. It very much looked like a mutual breakup about to take place. I feel like Mike has wanted to break up with El for a while now... he keeps on telling Will about his relationship problems, as if he subconsciously wants encouragement that breaking up would be the right choice for them.

Anyways, when Will said, 'You're the heart' whilst El was choking, a switch might have flipped in his brain. It went from:

Will? sees me as the heart?

Wait... it really was El who sees me as the heart... wait... so it was all El all along? Not Will? Not Will at all? But I thought-

Which explains the confusion and distress on Mike's face as Will probed him. As the byler analyst pointed out, if Mike REALLY thought all along that the painting + Will's words were from El, there is NO reason for him to seem so confused when Will reminded him that 'You're the heart.'

And that's when Mike's hopes fell again. Anyways, would love your thoughts on this!

Hello! How are you?

Ok, so at first I wasn't entirely sure Mike figured out the feelings Will was talking about were his, but the more I think about the scene, the more convinced I get that even though he didn't know everything, he knew enough.

Finn claimed that he asked the Duffers how Mike could have been that oblivious but I think he's a lying liar who lies because he did not play that scene as if he didn't know that his character didn't know. No, he played as if he was entranced by Will - not by the painting that was supposedly coming from the girl he loved - but by the person giving it to him.

So I totally believe that he knew, how much he knew I can't say for sure, but he knew something which explains Finn's acting choices, because like you said, if he truly thought the words were from El, he wouldn't have looked at Will like that.

And is the perfect setup for more misunderstandings, because as soon as Will tells Mike he's the heart, he figures he misunderstood the entire thing, he probably felt like he was such an idiot, which also explains his expressions, and it leaves the writer in the position of allowing Mike to be the one pining and believing his feelings are unrequited.

OH THE ANGST!!

[thybirbman]

They are, in fact, each other's first friends at the academy. Only friends, really. Because guess what, Houhua? You are not the only adult trapped in a child's body! Well, you're the only genuine article, but Itachi's a genuine replica! In that, he is also way too mature and does not know how to act like a child while still being influenced by his child prison and is therefore off putting to the rest of the child population.

I totally get Houhua not noticing Itachi's puppy crush at all, that's super fun, but I am so attached to Houhua being fully aware of the crush. Like he knows this small child has THE biggest puppy crush on him, and the part that goes straight over his head is that he is not, in fact, an adult (and therefore romantically unattainable to a small child) human male that a small child has a puppy crush on. He is actually a small child that another small child has a puppy crush on. Meaning, he is not, in fact, unattainable at all. He is VERY attainable, actually, and he should start working about that- but oh no, Houhua has his airpods in! He can't hear the Itachi's Eternal Devotion bus coming! It's gonna hit him!

Itachi is so confused, a little scared, kinda betrayed- but also, does he have any right to feel that way? When he's killed (almost) their entire clan? Does he have any right to feel betrayed about Houhua hiding his abilities from him when he would have used that exact knowledge to dispose of him? Should he not be grateful that Houhua didn't trust him because he doesn't deserve to be trusted because this way Houhua is alive?

Also, I need you to have this mental image as well- Itachi and Kisame on their Akatsuki missions, and in the middle of the night, Itachi will just be in the corner. Just. On his knees, in the corner, forehead to the wall. Just mentally repenting. Because fuck Houhua has only gotten more beautiful as time went on.

Itachi tried to kill him. Tried to ruin what they had. Tried to end it. And Houhua stopped him. Hoyhua didn't let him. And fuck, that's a mystery and Itachi feels so many things about it but one thing he definitely feels about it is- fuck, it was so hot. Like looking back on it, if Itachi does not remind himself that HE KILLED HIS ENTIRE FAMILY THE SAME NIGHT, thinking about how Huohua got away would get him so hard, so fast.

Like, imagine being Itachi. You've done this horrible thing, forced into a position where it was the only option you thought possible, and then you went through with it, even though you didn't want to- and then someone stopped you. Showed you it maybe wasn't the only way. Imagine the fear you'd feel about the fact that you were able to be convinced to kill the people you love, but then the utter relief that comes with the knowledge that there is someone out there that can keep you in check? Yes, Houhua didn't win against Itachi, but Itachi is about as mentally ill as they come. He failed in his mission to kill Houhua, which means Houhua won, which means Houhua, in a way, is stronger than Itachi, at least in his mind, and that means Houhua can stop him. If Itachi does something wrong, if he chooses wrong, Houhua can and will correct him.

Because Itachi might have been the clan heir, but he is such a follower. He follows orders, and he does not give them. He hates having that responsibility, that amount of power. He doesn't trust himself with it- look at what happened the last time he made a decision! Yeah, that decision was strongly influenced by Danzo, but Itachi doesn't give a crap, he has some severe survivors guilt/just actual guilt to deal with.

He hates having to make big decisions because he doesn't trust himself to make the right choice, and now Houhua is here to hold his leash. And that is frankly the hottest thing to ever happen.

Is this a healthy way to live? No. Is it about as healthy as you're gonna get in the military focused dystopia that is Naruto? Yeah, kinda. And again, doesn't really matter that Houhua didn't really win and can't actually fight off Itachi, he won in Itachi's mind, and that's enough for Itachi's monkey follower brain to be like, "welp, guess we listen to him no matter what now."

Also, I feel like I'm making out to be way worse than it would be. This is basically just- Itachi is just really into being told what to do and would like to not be in charge. Houhua would like to have literally any control over his life. And well, I'm just saying, he would have a lot of control over a lot of stuff if the Uchiha heir/Uchiha heir's brother was gladly at his beck and call...

And last but not least, Jun. Oh, Jun, Jun, Jun... the answer is simple! Houhua has two hands. Thruple. (Because you can pry Houhua/Itachi from my fucking cold dead hands.)

Also, I get what you mean with Itachi having control freak energy, but to me, at least, his control freak energy is very much "oh god, idk what I'm doing and I do not want to be here or be in charge, BUT I AM, SO I GUESS I NEED TO JUST KEEP TRACK OF EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE AT ALL TIMES BC IDK HOW ELSE TO DEAL WITH THIS HELP". His need for control comes from a place of complete panic and a distrust in his own ability to evaluate a situation, and if literally anyone else could take the wheel, he would be eternally grateful. But also, only someone with his undying trust and loyalty could ever be trusted with the wheel and he will bite anyone else that tries.

Basically, I feel like if he was eternally devoted to Houhua, and Houhua told him, nah, I knew about this, it's cool, Itachi would immediately go boneless with relaxation and just zoink out of the conversation. Trusted person has said everything is fine, so literally cannot comprehend a world where everything isn't fine.

Itachi is such a messed up little traumatized freak (affectionate). He has so many issues about control and making important decisions and following orders and trust and just anything to do with his own bodily autonomy. And really, most high-ranking/strong ninjas in this dystopia militaristic dictatorship are gonna have some complicated emotions about that stuff.

Anyway, Jun and Itachi can totally be cat fighting before Houhua comes along to set everything straight, tho. Let them fight over best boy, until best boy comes along and drags them both away by the scruff.

Can you tell I'm trying so fucking hard to manipulate Houhua/Itachi into working out? Because I am trying so hard to make them work out, and I want said hard work to be acknowledged.

That's all, though. It's 2 a.m., so I'm blaming anything that doesn't make sense, all spelling mistakes, and anything embarrassing on that. Because it's 2 a.m. and I'm tired. But still, take all of what I've said super seriously, and please join me in the newly formed Houhua/Itachi camp that I just erected.

(BTW, I have never read/seen svsss, nor read any of the fanfiction. I am purely running on my love of Naruto and context clues. Just so like you understand why Jun was mentioned dos briefly (I do not know who he is).)

Also also also also. Sasuke is going to stab everyone. With everyone being just his brother and his brother's loser friend. He is going to stab them for all the reasons. For killing his entire family, for apparently being forced into doing that, for faLLING IN LOVE WITH A MASS KIN SLAYER BEFORE SAID KIN SLAYING TURNED OUT TO BE FORCED. WHAT THE FUCK, HOUHUA-NII?

So I vaguely remember Huohua was supposed to be the girl Itachi had a crush on? Or maybe I'm mixing him up with someone else. Either way, I think Huohua should, in fact, be Itachi's gay awakening at like 7 years old, and that's how Itachi-nii gets his loser friend.

And he does this by being the way bigger loser because he follows Huohua around like a lost duck and just... helps him with stuff. He tries to buy him dango (Itacgi's favorite treat), and then when that doesn't work, he buys him tomatoes (Sasuke's favorite treat), and when that doesn't work, he does not ask what Huohua likes, instead he stalks him and tries to figure it out on his own. Which would be super creepy as an adult, but the kid is like 8, so it's just kinda cute. A little scary because he does actually have sneaking skills, but mostly cute because he takes notes on everything Huohua buys, but the notes are like "bought milk. Give him a cow?!?! Picked flower. Buy him flower garden!?!?"in crayon with little doodle hearts on the edges of the pages. Huohua, of course, sees him as a child who has a puppy crush and doesn't quite have the heart to tell him off, and so is just waiting for said puppy crush to die off on it's own.

And then the massacre happens.

And it doesn't make any sense!

Itachi was such a sweet kid. His favorite moves were all non-lethal take downs, he would always offer Huohua his last dango ball even though dango was his favorite, he would help small kids walk home or hunt down a KPF officer to help them if they were lost. He hated killing, Huohua once saw him cry because he found a very small snake and it didn't have any legs, because it was a snake, but that was apparently a tragedy because it "couldn't run and be free".

So Huohua has a lots of mixed emotions, a lot of suspicions from being an author himself, and a lot of... not quite pining, but he misses Itachi's puppy love gestures, as selfish as that feels. Misses being offered dango he didn't want, misses having a shadow that took meticulous yet adorably stupid notes in him, misses seeing him kneel down next to a child half their size and seeing someone far too young act so old and responsible.

And then.

And then they meet again.

And fuck, Itachi's gotten kinda hot.

Look, the kid was- well, a kid. So all his actions were of an adorable kid who didn't know the person he had a crush on was actually unattainable. But now - because Itachi still has that puppy crush that is starting to look less like a crush and something more like eternally burning love unique to the Uchiha - but now. Now Itachi is a fully grown man and he's kinda fucking hot.

He has wrinkles! Huohua is hundreds of years old, okay? Wrinkles are kinda hot to him. And he's- not nice, currently, what with being a missing-nin, but there are traces of his childhood friend Itachi in there still. He uses those non-lethal take downs he used to practice non-stop, he still tucks his chin into his chest when he tries to meet Huohua's eyes, he still-

He still looks at Huohua like he hung the moon and like Itachi torn it down against his own will.

And then he coughs blood and leaves.

Just leaves. Just like that. Shows off what is clearly supposed to be the illness that kills him, leaving Sasuke unsatisfied in his revenge and setting him down the road of villainy, sends one last look of utter longing at Huohua, and then he just fucking leaves.

Fuck that. Fuck this. Fuck the system, fuck the story, fuck it all.

Huohua is bringing Itachi home and he's going to cure him and make him eat dango and then Itachi is going to offer Huohua the last dango ball and Huohua is going to accept it for the first time because it's no longer stealing candy from a child, it's sharing a treat with someone he-

Someone he-

Someone he loves.

IM YELLING !!! I WAS LITERALLY JUST THINKING AB HOW ITACHI IS TEXTBOOK SHANG QUINGHUA'S TYPE TOO, HOUHUA IS SO FUCKED

You're right ! Houhua reincarnated as Izumi, who was supposed to be Itachi's love interest as a kid (before he went and fucking killed her along with everyone else, rip)

He does NOT know he is supposed to be a love interest (probably for the best tbh, I feel like it'd be easy for him to get weird and ethical about it if he had to think ab the implications of Itachi possibly being "forced" to like him due only to his character role) so any crush directed towards him will be a fucking surprise attack

Poor Houhua <3

I'm crying at tiny baby stalker Itachi, I think they should get to he eachothers first school friends. I think Houhua didn't have many friends as a kid. His natural Houhua-ness was cranked up a bit when he was younger due to just kid hormones and kid-wired mind fucking with his emotions and reactions even more than they might have as an adult. + as adult man trapped in a child's body, he does not how to convincingly act like a normal kid and this lead to him being labeled as a total weirdo by both his peers and some adults

Houhua himself never really cared, so what if he isnt invited to some 6 year olds birthday party! Hes a grown man! But every once in a while he'll get kinda melancholy about it— again, I think he's heavily affected by the physical state his little kid brain is at that age, so his reactions can be a bit,, different than he may have reacted when older

But like. Outcast weirdo Houhua and untouchable, unsociable clan heir Itachi ,, they are friends and no one really talks to either of them

(Once he gets older, I think Houhua gets to work at trying to network w people. He,, doesn't really ever make any friends, but who needs friends? Not him! He has a network of acquaintances who owe him a whole lot of things and favors, and that's better than any friendship, yknow!)

Also they're both the most mature in their age bracket and I think that might help Itachi identify with him a bit more

ANYWAYS

Itachi develops a sudden interest in learning how to make handpulled noodles bc he hears Houhua complaining about craving some,,

Houhua straight up does NOT notice his crush, it just isn't smthn he's capable of registering at the time bc in his eyes Itachi's a kid. Also bc Itachi is his only friend, he's seeing all his little kind acts and going "omg,, my bro is so sweet,, the bonds of friendship are so nice,,"

I think Houhua absoloutley has a thing for just being treated well and having him and his work be visibly valued, I think he gets incredibly touched by acts like that and Itachi treating him in any sort of special way is absoloutley at path directly into his heart.

I also love the idea of him missing Itachi after everything, missing the things he used to do for him, missing feeling valued (although Sasuke tries his best, it's not the same)

He also just... misses his friend.

Meanwhile, Itachi, who went toe to toe with Houhua during the massacre— ultimatley winning but only after a very surprising struggle, deals with not just the guilt of the massacre but the burning question of why and how Houhua had been lying to him about how strong he was. Lying to not just him, but to everyone.

Successfully.

Itachi himself never shares with anyone about the struggle, not to Konoha in his reports about the Akatsuki, nor to "Madara". But he lies awake at night and retraces the steps of their fight and he burns

There's suddenly this really complicated issue in his heart of like— he can no longer turn Houhua into this perfect martyr to feel guilty over like he can with Sasuke. (Though he still of course feels weighed down by the guilt of all he's done) because there's tangible proof that Houhua was not everything Itachi thought. There's layers now, there's a mystery, Itachi is no longer completely in the driving seat of the fucking car crash in progress that is their story like he is with Sasuke's.

Where as in the original canon, Izumi joins the faces of those Itachi killed, as a girl he can claim to have killed gentler than the others, a memory of this perfect, innocent girl Itachi betrayed, another tally on his list of crimes—

Houhua leaves Itachi, bogged down with guilt but also reeling with "what the fuck was that"

(A silent notification appears in Houhua's inbox, congratulating him on changing the narrative in such a creative way)

I think Itachi may have been able to tear himself away from his affection for Houhua (and allow his affection for Sasuke to win out overall) if only Houhua hadn't left him with such a powerful mystery to weigh him down

Good going Houhua!! Ur so good at this narrative thing <3

ANYWAYS THEIR REUNION HAPPENING AND HOUHUA GOING "oh no he's HOT" HAS ME IN STITCHES THO I NEED THAT ACTUALLY. THATS CANON NOW.

Also the detail of Houhua finding his wrinkles attractive is actually really cute, I love that!!

Sasuke will genuinley lose his fucking MIND if he catches even a hint of Houhua being attracted to Itachi, and not in a funny way. Houhua look him in the eyes. Look him in the eyes and tell him you find his big brother who tortured him and murdered their entire family hot. Say it to his face.

No but I think Houhua has major suspicions ab Itachi and at some point he'll have to share them with Sasuke. He literally has no reason not to and comes to be very fond of the kid, so. The only question is when— both when does he tell Sasuke and when does he really gain enough meat to his theory of "something isn't right here" ab the massacre to really start piecing together any sort of coherent thought other than suspicion

I hate u actually bc I'm suddenly SO sold on a Houhua and Itachi romance of some kind, this is so compelling and interesting to me. But also Mobei Jun is wandering around somewhere as Jun and Houhua is going to run into him eventually and have to face his own relationship drama

Itachi pulling his fucking hair out out of confusion when Houhua manifests his mangekyou for this fucking random Kiri missing nin he literally only JUST met

(I don't think Itachi likes being left in the dark when it comes to things he cares ab very much, definite control freak energy. Houhua is driving him insane)

I think that Itachi and Jun may have gotten along actually, but Itachi catches wind of Houhua having a seemingly giant fucking crush on him and is suddenly filled with inexplicable rage, actually

Let them have actually worked together previously or smthn, that'd be funny. They worked together a couple times and had a good rapport— maybe akatsuki actually wants or wanted to recruit him? That could actually be kinda fun

Oh fuck that could also totally parallel svsss bc there's no way that Jun would want to join them, busy with his own shit of wanting to take over Kiri. But just like with Deidara, they can strong arm him into joining under threat of death just like Bingghe did to MBJ !!

I love parallels

[lale-txt]

it's been over a week but i legit haven't stopped thinking about this

[runningatypufullspeed]

I AM BEING FORCED TO ROLEPLAY AS SCYTHE FUCKING GODDARD FOR MY SCHOOLA SISIGNMRNT CAN SOMEONE END ME PLEASE END ME NOW

[bugeyedfreaks]

It’s the PPG witching hours so this is probably why I feel compelled to write this but also because that last ask has inspired me…

…I am always on the lookout for PPG fanfictions that people think I may enjoy, so… just to let everyone know if you did not already… I am always open to recommendations…

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[yappingmil]

Mmm having another like venting in my head but knowing the second im done venting im gonna be like you didnt mean that tho moment