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#i don't even know who was in the hospital
rafesfavgirl · 17 hours
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two graves, one gun — r. cameron
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sad rafe fic bc i just got my period and i'm feeling extra emotional :')
❝ so long, london stitches undone two graves, one gun you'll find someone ❞
pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: after another night of getting coked out and passing out on barry's couch, rafe realizes you deserve better than him and decides to let you go.
words: 1.3k+
warnings: drug addiction, break-up, might make you cry, ANGSTY asl
the sole of your heel taps anxiously against your living room's hardwood floor, as you stared at the time on your phone's lock screen, which lit up with a photo that wheezie took of you and rafe sitting at one of the tables at midsummers last year, looking at each other as if you were the only people there.
8:30 p.m.
your heart aches at the realization that he had forgotten your date again, but the nerves that settle in your stomach win over, as you think about where he probably is.
pushing your weight off the sofa, you grab your car keys from the hooks on the wall, and dial rafe on your way out the door.
straight to voicemail. fuck.
you skip down the steps in front of your house and unlock your car in the driveway to get in, immediately starting the engine to get on your way.
you dial rafe again as you pull into the road—to no avail.
"damn it, rafe," you mutter, eyes switching between the road and your phone as you type him a message.
you: where are you???
when the message doesn't even go through, you let out a frustrated groan. either his phone's dead or it's switched off. you step on the gas to speed up, zigzagging between cars to get there faster.
you pull to an abrupt stop in front of a beat-down house on the south side, and switch the car off before hopping out.
"mrs. country club, what brings you to this side of the island?" barry stands from the porch when he sees you walking towards him, fuming.
"oh spare me the fake hospitality, barry," you tell him. "where is he?"
"where's who?" he shrugs—but you knew he knew what you were talking about.
"don't play dumb with me," you spat, attempting to walk past him. "i know he's here."
he steps to the side to block you from going any further. "maybe so, but it ain't a pretty sight."
"ugh," you manage to walk past him and proceed into the house, with him on your tail. "rafe!"
barry catches up to you and blocks your way again. "hey, i told you-"
"barry, you're really testing my patience here, alright?" you say, refusing to back down. you weren't scared of him—okay, maybe a little, but you weren't about to let him see that. "rafe!"
you push past barry again, and make your way further inside, immediately rushing to rafe, who was passed out face-down on barry's couch.
"oh my god, rafe!" you crouch down beside him, not missing the un-sniffed lines of coke on the wooden table in front of him, and pick up his head in your hands. "baby, baby," you gently pat his face with your hand. "can you hear me?"
"told you it wasn't a pretty sight," barry leans against a wooden post and watches you, making you roll your eyes.
"rafe," you try to wake him up again. "babe."
thankfully, his eyes flutter open, relief washing over you as you let out a sigh. "oh thank god."
"y/n?" his voice is barely above a whisper when his eyes lock with yours. "shit!"
you move aside when he suddenly sits up, searching the couch cushions for his phone. "what time is it?"
"rafe-"
"no, fuck!" he shouts when he realizes his phone is dead, and looks up at barry. "i told you to wake me up if i knocked out!"
"i'm not your keeper, cameron," barry shrugs. "just take your shit and go, a'ight?"
"baby…" rafe turns to you kneeling on the ground beside him, his voice much softer now. "i swear i set an alarm— i was just— i didn't think my phone would die and-"
"hey," you place your hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly to make him look at you. "don't worry about it. let's just get out of here, okay?"
he nods, and you stand up, dusting yourself off as you do.
"i'll meet you in the car, doll," he tells you. "i just gotta take care of something."
the car ride back to your house is almost completely silent, until rafe breaks it.
"you look beautiful, by the way," he says, eyes shifting to you.
you glance at him, a small smile on your lips. "thank you."
"god, i'm such an idiot!" he groans, clearly frustrated with himself over the situation. "how many missed dates is that this month?"
"rafe, i told you not to worry about it," you tell him. "it's okay, i get-"
"y/n," his voice is stern now, his eyes burning holes into your skin. "how many?"
you sigh, turning the wheel towards the curb to park the car in front of your house. "four," you answer, switching the ignition off. "that was the fourth one this month."
rafe scoffs and shakes his head, eyes averting away from you. he just couldn't look at you anymore, because he knew that even if you didn't show it, you were disappointed. not only at him, but maybe even yourself for putting up with him.
"hey," you place a hand on his knee, and he glances down at the gesture, before finally looking at you. "it's okay."
"how is it okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing. "all i do is disappoint you."
"baby, that's not true," you try to reassure him, but he doesn't buy it.
"it is true," he tells you. "and you don't deserve it."
not knowing what to say, you just glance down at your hand on his knee. "rafe…"
"no," he cuts you off, and places his hand above yours to slowly push it off of him. "i can't keep doing this to you."
letting out a sigh, you adjust yourself in your seat so you're looking at him. "okay, rafe, before you saying anything else— i love you, alright? there's nothing you can do that-"
"and that's exactly the problem, a'ight?" he snaps. "you're never gonna walk away from me yourself! even when i bought this shit from barry after i told you to wait in the car." he reaches into his pocket and tosses the small bag of blow in between the two of you. your eyes shift from it to him, the uneasiness in your stomach only getting worse.
"i have a problem y/n," he tells you. "and it's not the kind you can just 'fix' with love."
"then we'll get you help. we'll do any-" you try to reach out to him, but he resists.
"no," he says, motioning a hand between you two. "this has to end."
the words you dreaded hearing comes out of his mouth in one fell swoop, your heart shattering into a million pieces.
"what?"
"i'm never gonna be the guy you need me to be," he shakes his head at you, and if it weren't so dark outside, you swear you'd see his eyes watering. "and since you can't let go, i have to do it for you."
tears brim along your lower lashes as you speak, "no. that is not your choice to make."
"god, y/n, can you stop making this harder than it already is?" he pleads.
"can you stop acting like it's so easy?" you retort.
"you think this is easy?" he asks, taken aback by your accusation. "it kills me to do this."
"then don't," you say, voice cracking as you reach out for his hands. "we can work through your addiction together, rafe. we'll-"
"that's not your responsibility," he shakes his head at you. "if i'm gonna get better, i need to do it on my own."
you sob, "i— i don't want this to be the end.”
rafe glances down at your hands, before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.
you lean into his touch, and a single tear rolls down your cheek—one that he wipes away with his thumb.
"i love you so much," he says, eyes closing as his head tilted down against yours. "i'm sorry."
his lips place a soft kiss on your forehead, and just like that, he's gone.
part 2 coming soon!!
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @crvptidgf @star-girl-05 @redhead1180 @shadyshadyy @prettypimpcess12 @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238 @deadgirlwalkingirl
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nonstoplover · 8 hours
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all of my heart ~ carlos sainz (cs55)
my masterlist | my f1 masterlist
pairing: carlos sainz jr. x fem!reader
summary: a short story of carlos becoming a father
words: 2K
warnings: one tiny swear word in spanish ig, otherwise nothing, just fluff fluff fluff and dad!carlos which deserves its own warning tbh
a/n: i know you love the dad!driver trope, @vetteltea, which is why i dedicate this blurb to you (though i think you'd maybe prefer this to be with seb now that i think about it), as a thank you for all the amazing fanfic you provide this fandom with. i love you so much, you're so talented, so inspiring, and i truly wish to be like you. <33
please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!
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Carlos is still a little out of breath when he hears it for the first time.
A delayed red-eye flight and an excruciating traffic jam caused him to almost miss this appointment. The first he finally has the chance to attend – having had a race when the initial one happened –, and he almost missed it.
As a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face, obvious sign of how only seconds ago he was still running up the stairs of the hospital, a smile forms on his lips. Looking at her, lying down, the screen beside the bed showing a picture of their baby.
Well, at least they say it's that. For the love of God, Carlos can't see anything on it. He still nods along with a wide smile when the nurse asks him if he sees it. The focus shouldn't be on him and whether he can see it or not, but on his girlfriend.
God, this woman. He hasn't seen her in over a month now. And this is how they meet again: when they meet the little one officially as well, though on a screen only. Hell, the last time he saw her, they had no clue of this wonderful piece of news. From watching her wave with a smile through the glass at the airport, before he turned a corner towards his flight and disappeared, fast forward to now, when he catches sight of her lying form, just as gorgeous as ever, if not more, with a baby growing inside her. A creation by him and her.
They're gonna have a child, Carlos thinks, and as if it's the first time he realises this, his heart stops for a second. In happiness, in awe, in fear.
Because as the image on the screen gets displayed, and Carlos gets lost in-between words like embryo and transvaginal scan, suddenly the doctor announces that the baby indeed has a heartbeat, listen, you can hear it. And this one sentence, followed by the almost inaudible little thuds, is enough to make everything feel real.
Of course, he already knew what the positive pregnancy test meant, the one she showed him first on a FaceTime call, then sent as a separate picture later. But this, hearing that tiny heartbeat, it made everything even more real. They had actual proof now of what is going to happen in the near future. It might not have been planned, but it doesn't make it any less sweeter.
With his heart beating away in a rapid rhythm, he feels his facial muscles pull as his lips curve into a smile, so wide that it even showcases his pearly white teeth.
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When he sees her the next time, the first thing Carlos does is place his palm against her tummy. The bump is already visible – well not in the hoodie she's currently wearing, but it's there underneath, he knows –, and he's been dreaming about holding it for many, many days now.
She lets out a giggle, throwing her head back a little, having expected a kiss upon her arrival, not this. Carlos practically doesn't pay her any attention, his sole focus is on talking with his baby.
Later on in the car she inquires jokingly the reason behind why she's not the first to be greeted by him, and he explains with a serious tone why that's the priority. "You get all this time to speak to her and bond with her, and she's already inside you which is a bonus, but she has to know exactly who her father is."
"She, huh?" she raises a teasing eyebrow, and he simply smiles, shrugging in a nonchalant way.
"I can feel it in my bones."
He looks so self-assured that she can't help but lean in and press her lips against his cheek. She still can't believe she'll get to have a kid with this man.
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Doubt starts rising in his mind when they reach the third trimester. The date underlined in bright red in his calendar creeping closer and closer, making him more self-conscious and unsure than he's ever felt.
What if he won't be a good father? What if his job gets in the way of his child really feeling close to him? What is he supposed to do anyway? He already has no idea what he's doing in this whole pregnancy, safe to say, how is it going to be when he finally gets to hold the baby as well?
He's read multiple long articles, spending every flight he's had to take nose deep in his phone, until his eyes hurt and words started to lose their meaning. He wants to be the best father he can be.
This even includes several calls to his parents, asking for advice from them as well, trusting and valuing their words far more than the ones he can find online. He knows that his parents proved already that their methods work, they've been good parents to him and his siblings.
Still, the only thing that seems to reassure him is that they – the baby and him – have her. His superwoman of a girlfriend, who simply seems like she was actually born to do this, to be a mother, taking every obstacle in their way with a cheerful step and a smile reaching from ear to ear on her face.
How did he deserve her?
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As he's gritting his teeth to stop himself from letting out a groan while the pain he's feeling in his hand spreads – mierda, this woman is strong – he repeats one sentence as a mantra. Only to keep him from worrying his heart out for the love of his life, who's currently letting out loud gasps and occasional curses, her eyes teary and her cheeks red from the strain of pushing and pushing and pushing.
I hope the baby looks like her.
Why is this so important to him? He has no idea. He doesn't even know why the thought popped into his mind in the first place. He just knows he has to keep on repeating it to divert his mind, otherwise he'll lose his sanity.
Simply, he has to focus on picturing a baby with her eyes, her hair colour, the elegant line of her nose, the curve of her lips, her rosy cheeks. Every inch of their baby looking like a mini-her. Because what would be better than looking at his girlfriend and marvel at her beauty? Of course, looking at her and his daughter, and seeing the exact same beauty? Sure, it would be nice to have a tiny detail of him in their baby girl somewhere, just so that it would be obvious to the whole wide world that this is his baby, that the woman giving birth to her now is his woman. Maybe the exact copy of his eye colour? Or his locks of hair, silky and thick? It doesn't matter. Honestly, who cares about how she looks, he will love her no matter what. With his whole heart, with more love, a deeper connection than he's ever felt before.
Minutes pass, then some more, until it feels like an eternity has gone by since they arrived to the hospital. But then he hears it – crying. The unmistakable baby sound, entering the haze of his mind like a sharp knife, bringing him back to reality in a millisecond.
Everything seems to quicken up, and the next thing he knows is that the bundle of his child is placed in his arms, and after that initial wave of slightly terrified chills running through his body, immediately a mixture of relief, joy and tranquility spreads in his veins. He has no idea why he was so scared this whole time. This is... subconscious. Instinctive. Meant to be.
In that very moment he wordlessly promises the baby to always be there for her, always looking out for her, always caring and loving her with all of his heart. He won't let any harm ever reach her.
"Congratulations, Mr. Sainz, on the birth of your son," the doctor approaches him, and that last word bursts the bubble Carlos has been surrounded with.
Son?
His eyes widen, lips fall slightly open in shock – right until he hears the exhausted sounding but unmistakable giggle coming from the bed. "I told you," she grins.
"A boy," he mumbles dreamily, glancing at his girlfriend, lips curving into a smile matching hers.
"Good thing I came prepared with boy names as well," she continues, slight pants leaving her lungs still.
The memory when she practically wanted to force him into choosing a male name as well, just in case – because he was so sure about their baby being a girl that he didn't even want to spend a moment thinking about names for the other sex –, pops into his mind, and he shakes his head. He was wrong.
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Tiny feet patter on the floor, growing louder and louder, before a second later they suddenly cease and get replaced by a high-pitched giggle.
She glances up just as Carlos appears in the doorway to the kitchen, their son hanging from his arms, his little cheeks red from all the laughter. Her heart swells at the sight and sounds, her eyes shine bright, connecting with his easily – the love of her life.
Miracle. That's what the little boy is in their lives.
Watching Carlos be a father has been the best thing she's ever had the chance to witness. The way he plays with him, practically going back to being a child, his sole focus being on entertaining his son.
The Sainz household they established not too long ago is filled with laughter every day, the walls reverberating with the joyous sounds until they fill their hearts.
"When's dinner ready, mi amor?" Carlos leans in, pressing a loving kiss on her temple.
She cheerfully smiles, her fingers moving to caress the impossibly soft, dark brown hair on the little boy's head. "A few minutes," she replies, catching her fiancé's eyes once more. "If you two help me set the table, we can eat sooner."
Her son nods eagerly, as much as his three-year-old energy allows, and waves his tiny arms to wordlessly tell his father to put him down on the ground. Carlos obeys, then opens the cupboard to find the appropriate plates – all plastic, reserved for the times when it's only the three of them eating, to allow the young one to help them without the worry of him breaking anything.
She watches from the corner of her eyes as her two boys move towards the dining table, where Carlos lifts their son to stand on a chair, this way allowing him to reach the tabletop. His hands never leave the boy's waist, just in case, and when he's finished setting the plates, helps him back on the ground.
"Good job, chiquito," Carlos holds his palm out at the proper height.
"Gracias, papá," the little one slaps into his father's hand eagerly, making his mother smile so wide it's close to actually hurt the muscles in her cheeks.
They walk back to the kitchen counter with proud looks on their faces, and she places the bowl of salad in Carlos' hands. "It's too heavy for you, pumpkin," she explains when her son opens his mouth to complain.
"Te adoro," Carlos steals a melting kiss from her lips as his fingers get a hold of the bowl, before leaning back and fully taking it from her. I adore you.
With her heart fluttering with nothing but pure happiness and blood rushing to her face, she enjoys the way that bashful smile forms on her lips that only he can achieve. Her gaze follows his movements, the way the T-shirt clings to his arms, to his back muscles, and how the soft material ripples with every move he makes. He is breathtaking. He truly is, because unawares, she lets out a soft gasp watching him and has to endure the knowing glance and that smirk he casts her way above his shoulder. He knows her too well.
She shakes her head, attention going back to her son still standing by her feet, patiently waiting for his next task. A perfect mini-him, way more than she could've ever asked for.
A perfect child, a perfect man to call the love of her life, a perfect life. And it's all hers.
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a/n: i'm back baby!! i've been gone for the longest time ever (since last summer) but i'm in my final year of uni and i had to write my thesis too so hopefully that's a good enough excuse. writer's block ain't fun still. it really just feels nice to post something again.
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valkyrieeeee · 1 day
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You have surgery | Han Jisung
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ᑉ³pairing; Boyfriend! Han Jisung x Reader
ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff,
ᑉ³warnings; Wisdom tooth removal, dentist, Anesthesia, amnesia
ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon! Based on a true story (me!) Edited!
Part of the "He helps you when.." collection. Other members parts: Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin| Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
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As the nurse administers the anesthesia, you squeeze the hand you're holding tightly, drawing strength from their steady grip. You feel a cool sensation spreading through your veins as the anesthesia takes effect, gradually enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and tranquility.
A wave of anxiety washes over you, but it feels distant, muffled by the encroaching haze of unconsciousness. Your palms grow clammy, and your breath comes in short, shallow gasps. He reaches out, His touch is barely perceptible, a faint brush against your cheek. His whispered words of encouragement are like echoes from a far-off place, reaching you through layers of fog.
"Hey, you've got this," he murmurs softly, his voice fading into the recesses of your mind. "I know you're scared, but you're the bravest person I know. I'll be right here when you wake up, holding your hand okay?" His words cling to your consciousness like a passing dream.
With one final breath, you faintly hear the words "I love you" as you close your eyes, letting go of your fears and surrendering to the gentle embrace of unconsciousness.
-
As consciousness slowly returns, you find yourself floating in a hazy fog, your senses dulled by the lingering effects of anesthesia. Your eyelids flutter open, revealing a dimly lit room swirling with shadows and blurred shapes.
Confusion washes over you as you struggle to make sense of your surroundings. The faces that hover at the edge of your vision are unfamiliar, their features distorted and indistinct.
Panic begins to rise within you, a knot of fear tightening in your chest as you search desperately for something familiar. Your heart races in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as panic tightens its grip around your throat.
You try to push through the fog, to grasp onto fleeting fragments of memory that slip through your fingers like grains of sand. But the harder you try, the more elusive they become, slipping further and further beyond your reach.
Desperation claws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to flee, to escape this nightmare world of shadows and uncertainty. But where can you run when you don't even know where you are?
And then, amidst the chaos of your mind, a voice breaks through the fog, a soft whisper that cuts through the darkness like a beacon of light.
"Hey there, sleepyhead," his voice trembles slightly, gentle yet filled with love. "It's me, Jisung. How are you feeling" he asks softly, his tone laced with a mixture of hope and fear.
"Who are you?" you manage to croak, your voice trembling with confusion and fear. The name 'Jisung' means nothing to you in this moment of disorientation.
A flicker of sadness passes through his eyes, but he quickly masks it with a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Jisung," he repeats gently, his voice tender yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. "Your boyfriend. Do you remember? We've been together for a few years now."
You blink, trying to process his words, but the fog in your mind refuses to dissipate. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your heart heavy with guilt. "I don't remember."
Jisung's expression softens, sadness passing through his eyes once again , but he remains silent, his concern evident in the gentle squeeze of your hand. As you slowly regain awareness, you find yourself in a dimly lit room, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.
Your gaze sweeps the unfamiliar surroundings, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Where am I?" you murmur, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
"In the hospital," Jisung replies, his tone gentle yet urgent, his words a beacon of reassurance amidst the fog of confusion. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, but you're all done now. Everything's going to be okay," he adds, his voice laced with a desperate plea for recognition, his eyes searching yours for any sign of comprehension.
"Maybe going for a walk might jog your memory," the nurse suggests as she walks into the room, her voice a gentle interruption in the stillness.
You try to sit up, only to realize you're cocooned in warmth, covered in two blankets and a coat. "What's all this?" you say, puzzled by the unexpected comfort.
"You got cold, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see you tremble, so I tried to cover you as much as possible," Jisung explains, a slight tremor in his voice betraying his concern as he gestures to his coat draped over you.
With the help of Jisung and the nurse, you slowly stand and begin to shuffle around the hospital corridors, the steady rhythm of your footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. As you move, the motion seems to stir something within you, coaxing snippets of memories to resurface from the depths of your mind. With each step, the fog of confusion begins to lift, replaced by a growing sense of clarity.
And then, like a dam breaking, the first clear memory floods back, washing over you in a rush of recognition.
You pause mid-step, a look of realization dawning on your face.
"BBama," you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I remember BBama."
Jisung's expression changes, a mix of surprise and mild disappointment crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a forced smile. "Yeah, BBama," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "He's a good boy."
You sense a shift in his demeanor, a subtle tension in the way he grips your hand a little tighter. Guilt washes over you as you realize the impact of your words, the inadvertent reminder of your forgotten memories hitting Jisung harder than you expected.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, reaching out to touch his arm in a silent gesture of apology. "I didn't mean to—"
But before you can finish, Jisung shakes his head, his forced smile softening into a genuine one. "It's okay," he reassures, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of sadness. "It's just... funny how memories work sometimes."
As you walk, Jisung's disappointment hangs heavy in the air, his silence speaking volumes as you navigate the hospital corridors together. You can feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts, a palpable tension in the way he holds himself.
Guilt gnaws at your insides as you realize the depth of his disappointment, the fear that perhaps you'll never fully remember the moments you've shared together. You want to reach out, to erase the hurt etched into the lines of his face, but words fail you in the face of such uncertainty.
Lost in thought, you suddenly remember a fleeting moment, a snapshot of a memory that cuts through the fog.
"The ferris wheel," you say, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you recount the memory that has surfaced in your mind. "It was a sunny afternoon, and we went to the carnival. We got on rides, and we laughed and talked for hours."
Jisung's eyes light up with recognition, a spark of joy dancing in their depths as the memory comes flooding back to him. "I remember that day," he says softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "It was one of the best days of my life."
"You were afraid of heights and got scared at the top of the wheel. I kissed you to calm your nerves," you recall, a blush tinting your cheeks as you relive the tender moment. "And in that moment, everything felt... perfect," you add, your heart fluttering at the memory of Jisung's comforting embrace.
His gaze softens, his eyes shining with love and longing as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "It was perfect," he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing gently against your skin.
After spending some time reminiscing in the hospital corridors, Jisung helps you gather your belongings and leads you out of the hospital. He takes your hand gently, guiding you with careful steps as you navigate through the corridors and out into the crisp evening air.
As you step outside, you're greeted by the cool breeze, a welcome relief after the sterile confines of the hospital. Jisung flags down a taxi and helps you into the backseat, ensuring you're comfortable before climbing in beside you.
During the ride home, you lean against Jisung's shoulder, the events of the day catching up with you as exhaustion washes over you. Jisung wraps his arm around you protectively, offering silent comfort as the taxi makes its way through the city streets.
When you arrive home, Jisung helps you out of the taxi and supports you as you make your way inside. Once indoors, he settles you onto the couch, fluffing up pillows to make you comfortable.
"Minho hyung dropped off some soup for us. Let me serve you some," he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen.
As you sink into the cushions, the sharp ache in your jaw intensifies, signaling to your senses that the anesthesia is wearing off. Every movement sends a jolt of agony through your body, and you clench your teeth to stifle a cry of pain.
Your eyes brim with tears. Talking feels like shards of glass scraping against your raw gums, and even breathing seems to exacerbate the throbbing ache in your jaw.
With Jisung in the kitchen, you try to compose yourself, not wanting to alarm him. You take slow, shallow breaths, trying to find a way to cope with the overwhelming pain that courses through your body.
But despite your best efforts, silent tears slip down your cheeks, betraying the torment you're enduring. You press a hand to your mouth, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape, not wanting to disturb Jisung as he prepares soup to ease your discomfort.
Minutes feel like hours as you wait for Jisung to return, each second punctuated by sharp pangs of agony that seem to intensify with every passing moment.
Finally, you hear the soft shuffle of footsteps as Jisung reenters the living room, a tray of steaming soup in his hands. He pauses as he sees you, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of your tear-streaked face.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with concern as he rushes to your side, setting the tray down on the coffee table before gathering you into his arms.
You cling to him desperately, unable to hold back the flood of tears any longer. "It hurts," you manage to choke out between sobs, the words barely audible as you bury your face against his chest.
Jisung holds you close, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. "I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'll make it better, I promise."
You cling to him desperately, your tears soaking into his shirt as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of agony. Each sob racks your body, a symphony of suffering that echoes through the silent night.
"I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as he presses another kiss to the top of your head. "I wish I could take away your pain."
As Jisung holds you, he whispers soft words of comfort, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your suffering. You feel a flicker of relief in his arms, a fleeting respite from the relentless ache that grips your body.
Eventually, Jisung guides you to sit up, his hands gentle as he helps you into a more comfortable position on the couch. He retrieves the tray of soup he prepared earlier and sits beside you, offering you the spoon with a tender smile.
You try to eat, but the pain makes even the simplest of tasks feel like an immense effort. Each attempt to swallow is met with searing agony, and you can't help but feel a sense of incompetence wash over you.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to eat. "I can't do this."
Jisung's heart breaks at the sight of your distress, but he remains steadfast in his support. "It's okay, love," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm as he takes the spoon from your hand and gently feeds you, " Let me help you."
With each spoonful of soup, Jisung's movements are deliberate and gentle, his fingers cradling the spoon as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He watches you intently, his gaze soft and reassuring as he anticipates your needs.
As the warm broth passes your lips, you can feel the tenderness of his touch, his fingers brushing against your skin with a feather-light caress. It's as if he's not just feeding you soup, but pouring his love and care into every bite.
Despite the pain that still lingers in the corners of your mind, you find solace in the simple act of being cared for.
As he continues to feed you spoonful's of soup, he notices the heaviness in your expression. With a playful glint in his eyes, he brings the spoon closer to your mouth but then pulls it away with a mischievous smile.
"Here comes the plane!" he says, his voice filled with playful enthusiasm as he mimics the sound of an airplane soaring through the air. He moves the spoon in a swooping motion, as if it's about to land in your mouth, his expression hopeful for a glimpse of your smile.
Despite the pain and discomfort, you can't help but chuckle at his antics. His determination to bring a smile to your face melts away some of the tension, and you find yourself playing along, opening your mouth wide as if ready to accept the imaginary "airplane" spoon.
Once you've finished eating, Jisung takes care of everything, cleaning up the kitchen and washing the dishes with meticulous attention to detail. He returns to you, draping a soft blanket over your shoulders and ensuring you're comfortable on the couch.
Then, he gathers you into his arms, holding you close as you cling to him. He wipes away your remaining tears, whispering words of love and comfort until your sobs subside.
"Shh, it's okay, my love," Jisung murmurs softly, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "You're safe. Just breathe," he whispers, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. "Let me kiss the pain away," he murmurs, pressing another tender kiss against your temple.
As your tears gradually subside, Jisung holds you close, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. He brushes away your tears with his thumb, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I hate seeing you in pain," he admits softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I wish I could take it all away."
You nestle closer to him, finding solace in his embrace. "It's not your fault," you reassure him, your voice muffled against his chest. "I know you'd do anything to make me feel better."
Jisung's arms tighten around you, his love evident in every gesture.
"I was so scared," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "When you didn't remember my name or my face," he begins, his words carrying the weight of vulnerability, "it felt like my world was falling apart. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of having you look at me as if I were a stranger."
Your heart aches at his confession, realizing the depth of his fears. "I could never forget you, Jisung," you assure him, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "You mean everything to me."
A soft smile tugs at Jisung's lips, his eyes reflecting the love and adoration he holds for you. "Knowing that means more to me than you'll ever know," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you more than words can express." he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I'm sorry you're in pain. I'd rather it be me than you."
You lean into his touch. "You're my everything, Jisung," you whisper, your face close to his. "And I wouldn't want to go through this with anyone else by my side."
As you lean into his embrace, you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. And as he lulls you to sleep with soft murmurs and gentle caresses, you drift off into dreams, knowing that no matter what, you'll always have Jisung there to hold you and kiss the pain away.
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*·˚ᑉ³ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like. © Valkyrieeeee 2024
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usereddie · 1 day
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explain couch theory for dummies please
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alright!!!
basically, couch theory started last season in 6x01. we got a snippet of the script for the buckley diaz scene at the beginning of the episode, where buck, eddie, and christopher are all having dinner together, and christopher teases buck for not having a couch.
buck is upset that bobby didn't consider him for interim captain and goes "i just wanna know what these other candidates have that apparently i don't."
christopher goes "buck, you don't even have a couch."
buck explains that the last two couches came with girlfriends (to which eddie replies "i think you mean the last two girlfriends came with couches.") because ali picked his couch when he got the loft, and they kept taylor's couch after she moved in, meaning that when she moved out, she took the couch with her.
the theory REALLY starts, though, when eddie points out that buck and taylor broke up months ago, he could've replaced the couch by now.
and buck gets a soft look in his eyes as he looks at eddie and goes "well, maybe i don't want to pick the wrong couch again."
that's kind of the root of the whole couch theory.
there's another scene in 6x01 where buck mentions not having a couch to bobby and saying he doesn't want to make a mistake again, referring to life experience.
essentially, the couch metaphor is actually something that happens in canon throughout season 6. the couch theory is the spin off of that metaphor, where it's very obvious that eddie is the damn couch.
throughout the season, there's this theme of buck searching for the right couch. it continues at the very end of the coma episode (6x11), when the buckley parents ask buck why he doesn't have a couch after they come home from the hospital.
we find out in this scene that maddie is aware of the couch metaphor because she goes "oh, that story is too long to tell while standing."
we then get a scene in the following episode (6x12) while buck's in recovery, of him trying and failing to get comfortable on his couch.
in this episode, the 118 and co are showing up to buck's apartment to keep him company, a system created by maddie to make sure buck is fine and that he's not by himself while he recovers from the lightning strike and coma.
buck doesn't want all this attention, though, and, eventually, gets fed up and goes to eddie's house.
where he immediately gets comfortable on his couch, and falls asleep before eddie even brings the beers out.
it did make the fandom lose it, thanks so much for asking.
not directly related to the couch theory, but after buck wakes up on eddie's couch, they talk about the shooting for the first time since it happened.
couch theory kind of continues throughout the season. there's a scene that's essentially a beat by beat parallel of buck falling asleep on eddie's couch with christopher falling asleep on the couch, and the buckley diaz family implications went crazy with that one.
seriously, i'm not kidding. beat by beat.
the writers, actors, producers, etc were all aware of what the fandom thought about the couch theory and how it related to buddie, also. couches were mentioned in interviews, tweets were liked, it was a whole thing.
but, i'm assuming whatever oliver says in today's (april 25th) article about the couch theory is gonna be a little more....buddie specific than anything was during s6.
anyway, after buck falling asleep on eddie's couch everyone sort of hoped for a continuation of the couch arc that involved eddie, because obviously eddie was the couch. you have buck, who didn't want to pick the wrong couch again, who couldn't even get comfortable on the couch his parents bought him, immediately fall asleep the second he sat on eddie's couch?
insanity!!!!!! it was crazy!!!!!
i don't remember if anything happened between 6x13-6x17 that was directly in canon. obviously the fandom kept going with the couch theory, speculating all the ways that the couch could mean buddie canon (there's a lot of fic from s6 that's full of couch metaphors and couch mentions)(my fics, too).
kameron gives birth to the sperm donor baby on buck's couch, also.
i forget that detail.
anyway, end of 6x18, buck and natalia are sitting on his balcony and he turns to her and asks if she wants to go buy a couch.
people died that day.
that's more or less it. i'm sure there's more that i'm missing, but essentially, the couch theory is the idea that eddie is buck's couch, the couch representing a romantic relationship.
or, not just a romantic relationship, but the right one. buck's couch is buck settling down, finding someone to spend the rest of forever with, a family, a home.
and then he got that in eddie's house, but he was too blind to see it.
alright. i think that's it! hope it made sense :)
let's pray today's interview doesn't kill us all
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scintillyyy · 2 days
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can i say something. i am kind of scared to say something bc dick ship wars kind of scare me even though i have absolutely no preference and care extremely little about dick ships. but. hm. the thinking about 80s and 90s medias as products of their time got me thinking a bit.
so. the interesting thing to me about dick-kory in the 70s and 80s vs dick-babs in the 90s and early 00s os how much each of those couples was entrenched in the media ideals of the time and what people were looking for in a ship.
so like, if you look at dick-kory, theirs is a larger than life love that is destined from the moment she kissed him to learn human language. and theirs is a dynamic and relationship dripping in the popular soap opera tropes that were very pervasive a the time. you can't actually divorce their tribulations (dick being kind of condescending to kory as the Man of the relationship, she's a princess who has to get married for political reasons and dick gets mad, kory gets mad at him for supposedly cheating when he was raped by mirage, the epic wedding that gets literally blown up by raven to name a few) from the media norms that were very popular. they fight passionately and make up passionately very frequently. this is a very common dynamic in the 80s, where soap operas were topping the charts. everyone was watching general hospital. *30 million* people tuned in to see luke and laura get married and their relationship started with him raping her (which was later turned into "seduction") and they were considered like THE couple ever. everyone was watching dynasty. dallas was hugely popular. falcon crest. knots landing. dick and kory's relationship mirrors a lot of what people were eating up back then in the soap opera type media the new titans was emulating. luke and laura. gary and valene. bo and hope. bobby and pam. dick and kory. can you really talk about dick and kory if you don't know what was going on with "bope" back then? for reference, here's what was going on with bo and hope:
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anyways. enter the 90s and the soap opera fervor died down in a massive way. soap operas were no longer prime time material and their popularity died down in a massive way & actually people started more making fun of the overwrought storylines and soaps in general. the ideas of destined, one true love was suddenly far more unappealing to people who thought it was cheesy & tired. what people in the 90s were looking for was not true love that is constantly tested and put through the wringer--what was gaining in popularity was UST and will they won't they dynamics. enter dick-babs. and while i wholly disagree with the idea of diminishing kory's importance in dick's life just to uplift babs, i don't entirely disagree with the notion that kory probably wouldn't have really worked in batbooks, so i understand why batbooks wanted to focus on a loveline for dick for a character they had full control of and could work into the stories. and, hm. moving dick away from the destined one true love at the time that was kory allowed them to put him in the romantic situations that 90s audiences were vibing with instead. because you can't suddenly do a will they won't they with a couple who's been solidly dating for *years*. so with dick and babs you're able to do that. he's interested while she's dating someone else. he flirts with someone else for a bit while she's single. while the entire time they're still good working partners while circling around each other. will they? or won't they? and this was super common in late 90s/early 00s sitcom shows that people loved and were at the top of the charts. the x-files with scully and mulder. friends with rachel and ross. fran and mr. sheffield from the nanny. it's still very much playing to what people wanted to see back then.
anyways as someone who truly has no horse in this race i do think media norms of the time around couplings are interesting to dissect.
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thurio-edau · 3 days
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SBG GANG MENTAL ANALYSIS
sorry for the delay!
alright, gotta say... this one's a bit shorter. but the next will come like a train wreck i promise😇
Part 3: Ben Clark
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oh the sweet old Ben... a kind and loving soul muted away. I'm thinking of inspecting his trauma and his general actions, and give him a diagnosis which I'm sure is canon even. I'm sure everyone who knows the disorder itself is aware that Ben is, in fact, suffering from PTSD.
let's start. first, what is PTSD?
PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is a mental condition where someone feels what they have previously went through in a past traumatic experience. PTSD is frequently found with flashbacks to the moment, overwhelming feelings and sudden responses. there are two types of this disorder, PTSD and C-PTSD. but we'll look in the first one for now.
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Ben has always been a really kind character. ever since the beginning. more of a 'gentle giant' type of character, though we never see him talk. he's soft, he loves to help his friends and never does anything vulgar around them, including the phantom dimension. he feels nice when he gets praised even if he doesn't show it too.
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the first time we see him getting flashbacks and his anger issues being visible is when we first see Barron's behaviour towards Logan. anything that includes actual bullying gives him flashbacks and his response is his anger issues unleashing.
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in his backstory, Ben is shown that he's more of a shy type of person, but he loves singing. because his tall and intimidating appereance doesn't match his softness, a group of dumbasses try to 'fix' him which he rejects. back when Shane strangled him, is what he gets flashbacks to. it was something that changed his entire life, he had a passion for singing but he never did with his damaged voice. god knows how many times he was hospitalized when he was going around to fights because of his outburst of rage.
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yep, rage. I'd classify his anger issues as the 'rage' type with PTSD. PTSD rage makes more sense to me than just normal anger problems. I've seen and lived with many people with anger issues, but none of them are similar to rage. anger problems in general are usually verbal, if you don't make them mad to a point they're all bark and no bite. but of course after a point the violence behind the generic anger issues can unleash (see Tyler)
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okay, back to Ben and rage. rage is an extreme condition of anger, the person gets violent and their thoughts are clouded with the rage which makes them not think before doing anything drastic. but he's not very closed off about it either, actually. the time where he accepted Aiden to do the storytelling was before the first half of season one, the gang wasn't even that close.
this means that he saw them as actual friends so early on. probably before everyone. Ashlyn took her sweet time accepting the friendship, I'm kind of sure that Aiden didn't at first (see Tyler, yet again), Tyler also definitely didn't (as said by Taylor in season two premiere) and I think Logan has attachment/trust issues but that's for later. the only other possible person that might accept the group fastly is Taylor but with Tyler's influence so close to her, there is also a chance she didn't at first.
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Ben was fine with his friends knowing his past. he put his earphones on because he didn't want to hear about it, or else he knew he'd get flashbacks yet again. I'm thinking that it could be diagnosed too. Aiden knows that it's not just a memory, it's flashbacks to Ben and he covers for him whenever he sees something that might trigger Ben. after learning the situation, Taylor also does the same. they learn the severity of his problems and are all fine with helping him.
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another thing I'm sure of is that he's extremely attached to his friends. we know that everyone is close-knit, but Ben specifically. he might not speak but that doesn't mean that he doesn't enjoy their time. he does, fully. which is I think why he/his room was... like that in the facility, without any spoilers.
to say, the gang is more than just friends to him; they're his found family, where he feels like he belongs. they don't judge him for his silence there. they understand his past. they're not scared of him just because of the way he was built and they're not going to be either.
but what about his family?
families are one of the most important part of a character and their backstory. the family is what decides how they will live, act and even feel sometimes. then what about Ben's? where were they during his backstory?
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yeah. Ben's rage causes something terrible to happen.
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but it ends better for everyone. Ben gets the therapy he needed, starts to live with Aiden, makes the gang his friends and it actually goes well.
his parents?
we meet Naomi and William during Lily's birthday.
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yes, Mike, Lily is goshdarn adorable.
first, I think Naomi and William aren't to blame. I think they did the best they could; they tried to help Ben, tried to help him get therapy, sent him to Aiden's place to help himself. then why didn't Ben's story stop?
Ben couldn't control his rage until their house got destroyed and he realized just how far it got. he sneaked out of the house, a lot of people seem to not see that detail. and they seem to be very caring, too.
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they're amazing as a whole family, to be honest. even the little Lily doesn't care about her birthday getting wrecked, because she wants to help Ben and his friends. she indirectly helped Tyler extremely well, since the sedative idea came from her in the first place.
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Naomi was the first person who brought up the whole 'we-are-seeing-phantoms' discussion and William didn't hesitate to talk about it. Naomi was also the first person to notice the phantoms when the worlds collided for a mere second.
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and Ben himself has shown completely zero negative behaviour towards them. and Lily gets treated like a princess -even if she accidentally neutered Ben-
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side note here, that Lily also really loves the family too. the way she cuddled Aiden when he died and came back was so cute to be honest.
so I don't think the family is anywhere to blame either. it was Ben who was strangled, Ben who fought, and Ben who saw therapy. the reason why I'm talking about this is because a lot of people suddenly blame a character's family when there's a problem with them.
guys. people with caring, loving families can be traumatized too. just because someone has a happy family doesn't mean they're suddenly over any trauma they live. doesn't mean everything is suddenly okay. it means that they have an accepting place to go to, a safe space. and Ben's family? I think they're just like that. they desperately try to help. help their son, their nephew and their friends. hell, Lily trying to help also speaks volumes in my opinion. their father -dilf no.2 after Mike right here- William was the one who offered the idea to get the kids saved from the centipede phantom. and to be honest? it was pretty smart.
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she also tried to prevent Emma from going mad because come on, Emma would absolutely wreck anyone if they dared blame Ashlyn for this. (still I think Jessica has to apologize for being to insensitive smh)
Naomi really seems like a sweetheart to me, I already said what to be said about William in a single very important side sentence and if there was any kind of in-family neglect Lily would also be affected. but she isn't so I think we're good? I adore the whole Ben family tho.
to wrap it all up.
Ben is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder which makes him see flashbacks and turn into a rage mode each time he is triggered due to his backstory, being bullied because he's too soft. his rage causes a gang to destroy his home (HELLO?? ARE THERE NO FUNCTIONING COPS IN THIS STOR-- oh wait it's america yea there ain't nvm) and his parents try their best. move, get Ben to therapy and let Daniel's side help him by doing stuff he loves. Ben is still trying to recover, but his flashbacks are strong due to impacting his entire life from his voice and make it difficult.
(vocal chords repair by time actually, but he hasn't been speaking for like 4 years so maybe it'd need some voice exercises until it returns to normal?? if it's just vocal chords he'd be alright. imagine if he could talk and sing normally all this time but he just didn't know. it's something between "aww poor guy :((" and "lmao"
but I don't know about voice box, can someone enlighten me on vocal chord damage vs. voice box damage? thamks)
and Lily. Lily is a cinnamon roll. no other opinions allowed.
-i wanted to make a part for Ben and Taylor but i decided wasn't fit here :P-
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leclerc-hs · 49 minutes
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tachycardia pt.2 - cl16
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pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated French (didn't really put french in this), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.5k author's note: hi!!!!!! did you miss me??? I missed all of you! sorry this is SO short but I wanted to post something in honor of reaching 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I love u all sm and I'm sorry this is kinda shit. I've been in a really bad writing funk recently but I'm hoping to get out of it. don’t forget to talk to me and don’t be shy I love to hear from all of you!!!! I will try to get the ball rolling on this series as soon as I can. I just kinda started it without even knowing where I wanted it to go so I'm kinda just winging it as I write with whatever comes to mind. if you have anything you would like to see happen in this series PLEASE don’t be shy and let me know I love to hear your thoughts and ideas!!!! xoxo taglist: @amalialeclerc @barcelonaloverf1life @charizznorizz @magicpancake @zabwlky1999
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
AS YOU SIT across from your younger sister in the cozy confines of the café adjacent to the bustling hospital, you can’t help but marvel at the enigmatic workings of her mind.
“Is it really like that? Sex in the on-call rooms?” The question bursts forth accompanied by a hearty laugh, your body leaning forward in laughter. 
“How many times do I have to tell you no?”  You retort, meeting her gaze with an air of firmness amidst the playful banter. 
“What about in the locker room?” She presses further, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“No, and stop indulging in such ludicrous fantasies.” You respond, bringing your cup of coffee to your mouth, you pause before taking a sip. “You know well enough that I don’t engage in relationships with doctors.” A fleeting sense of contentment washes over you with the warmth of the coffee. 
She emits a deep sigh, deeply annoyed. “Are any of them at least cute?”
You feel your stomach churn as the image of Doctor Leclerc floods your thoughts. He’s far more than just attractive. You hesitate for a beat, staring at her wide, expectant eyes. “Yes.”
Her eyes light up almost instantly. “Who?”
“I forget. I don’t really know him.” Liar.
“What does he look like?”
“Brown hair. Very green eyes.” Your fingers twiddle with the napkin on the table, feigning disinterest.
She gives you a skeptical look as if she can read your mind and tell you’re lying. But she doesn’t push further. “When do you have to be back?”
You briefly glance at the time on the screen of your phone, “Shit.” Rising abruptly, you shove the chair back with a jolt, shooting your sister an apologetic glance. “I have to go. I’ll see you at mom’s this weekend?”
You’re already pushing the front door of the café open by the time you hear your sister half-shout, “Yes!”
-
You burst into your patient’s room, breaths coming in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed with exertion. You say a silent prayer to whatever higher power that he wasn’t here yet. 
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 
Did you mention that this particular patient has a knack for hitting on you?
Your heart skips a beat, and if it weren’t for the already flushed hue of your cheeks, you’re certain the blush creeping up on your neck would be glaringly obvious.
“Mr.,” You pause to glance at the chart to double-check his name, “Mr. Hart, how are you feeling today?”
“Meilleur, now that you’re here.” Better. You curl your lips upward into a soft smile, jokingly rolling your eyes at his antics.
“Surely you’re sick of seeing my face, Mr. Hart.” You quip, reaching for a stool beside his bed while simultaneously checking his IV bags. “Today’s the day I think!”
Mr. Hart has been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from a surgery for a atrial septal defect.  
“Jamais.” Never. He insists, his head sinking back against the pillow as his gaze follows your every movement. “I’m so close to being able to ask you out properly.”
In that moment, a new scent permeates the air, distinct and alluring. Without even turning around, you sense his presence—the man who just breezed in behind you. Whether he heard the exchange or not, you weren’t sure, but the subtle shift in the atmosphere is palpable regardless.
“Mr. Hart,” His voice, deep and honeyed, washes over you, almost too sweet to be genuine. “Still stirring up trouble for our lovely nurses?” Despite the playful tone, you can sense an undercurrent of something morecalculated beneath his words. His presence radiates warmth, his tall figure looming beside you, close enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. 
“No,” Mr. Hart grins. “Just her.”
Doctor Leclerc’s smile remains fixed, but you catch the subtle clench of his jaw as you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Just stopping by to let you know that we might need to keep you for another night.”
The news catches you off guard; you were under the impression that Mr. Hart would be discharged by the end of the day. As if he could sense the questions brewing in your mind, Doctor Leclerc continues, his voice reassuring. “Just a precautionary measure. I assure you; we’ll have you cleared to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Mr. Hart hums nonchalantly, as if the prospect of another night in the hospital doesn’t bother him in the slightest. His attention remains fixated on you as you inspect the sutures on his chest, his fingertips grazing against your gloved hand with a deliberate touch. “Can’t complain as long as she’s the one checking on me.”
You let out a small laugh, but don’t say anything, as you stand up and remove the gloves to toss them in the waste bin nearby.  
“Mr. Hart,” Doctor Leclerc’s voice is unamused now. “You would be wise to refrain your hands from touching her again. Next time I won’t ask so politely.”
-
Pressed against a wall while in the presence of Doctor Leclerc seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. His tall frame blocking any potential onlookers from seeing who he had cornered.
“Dis-moi,” Tell me. His voice is low, lethal. “Do you flirt with patients often, hm?” 
“What is your problem?” You quip, your brows furrowed as you crane your neck back to look him in the eyes. 
“My problem?” He scoffs, leaning closer to your face, his lips thinned in annoyance. “My problem is that I have to stand there and watch a patient flirt with you,” He clicks his tongue in frustration, turning his head to look away for a brief moment. Giving you a moment, to take in the sharpness of his jawline, and the unshaven scruff that shadows it. “And you…” His voice trailed off.
“And I, what?” You pulled your lips into a slight frown.
“You smell like that,” His hands wavered around your body, in an exasperated manner.
“Smell like what?” 
As he shook his head in disbelief, a mixture of frustration and something deeper etched acoss his features. The disbelief seemed to stem from his inability to fathom that you were completely unaware of something soevident to him. It was that scent, the sweet floral scent that always accompanied you. It drove him mad sometimes. How it was almost the only thing he could focus on sometimes.
With a disapproving click of his tongue, he took a deliberate step back, as if needed physical distance to collect his thoughts.
Ignoring your inquiry, his gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentler expression as they locked on yours.
Caught off guard by the swift change in his demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of whiplash from the abrupt shift.
“I wouldn’t say often,” you began, punctuating the order with a slight shrug. “It’s all harmless.”
His response was solemn, his voice carrying a weight of protectiveness that left no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want them to put their hands on you ever again,” he declared firmly. “If you ever have issues, you can come to me.”
His words resonated with a gravity that made it clear he meant every syllable, his stance unwavering in its determination to shield you from harm.
Your throat tightened as you swallowed, acutely aware of the intensity in his gaze tracing the delicate curve of your neck.
“Moving forward, I will be the one to check on Mr. Hart,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of authority softened by a touch of concern.
With a deliberate motion, he extended his arm, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
The proximity of his touch sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the tenderness in his gesture catching you off guard, yet somehow soothing in its unexpectedness. Dr. Leclerc’s presence seemed to envelop you whenever he was near. As if nothing else in the world existed no matter the premise of the discussion, including the constant bickering you two always seemed to do.
“Will you be at James’ retirement party?” The question slipped from your lips before you could fully weigh its significance. Yet, deep down, you knew the answer matters more to you than you cared to admit. You found yourself wanting him to be there, though the reasons remained elusive, even to yourself.
Yes, he was an ass to you most of the time. But, for some reason you couldn’t really fathom, he was always in the forefront of your mind.
His head tilted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Though he would never openly confess, the idea of attending hadn’t crossed his mind until that moment. However, if there was even the slightest chance that you would be there, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. 
“Yes,” he replied simply, the single word carrying more weight than its brevity suggested.
You nodded slowly, as if processing his response required a deeper level of understanding. “See you there?” You ventured, the question hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.
He nodded, pulling his lips into the faintest smirk.
“See you there, mon lapin.”
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Can you make some sad libby headcanons? I swear all your other sad headcanons made me cry😭
sad libby head canons
YES! libby is literally the fucking best and she's so underrated. trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal thoughts/attempts, eating disorders, and sexual assault. hope you like them <3.
she used to apologize to her mother after she would hit her (in tig she says her mother used to hit her when she was stressed)
she's been self-harming since she was like 12. she used the blade in her pencil sharpener and cut the tops of her thighs (you can't see them even when she wears shorts)
drake convinced her that him SAing her was out of love, and that he knew she 'wanted' it so she should stop complaining. she'd be the one who ended up apologizing to him after he'd assault her
in high school, because of how tough things were at home, she used to do drugs (she had this really bad group of friends that sort of influenced her) (she didn't get addicted to the drugs though, if was more of a once in a while thing when she couldn't handle her life anymore)
at some point, her mom was doing really badly financially, and they were forced to move into a smaller one bedroom apartment. libby thought her mom deserved the bed bc she worked so hard so she slept on the floor.
she's so used to people hitting her that it doesn't even hurt anymore. when someone does, she sort of dissociates in order to not feel anything.
her mom used to tell her she was overweight (she was literally underweight, her mom was just jealous). libby then developed an eating disorder (bulimia)
the ED was sort of an on and off thing for her. every once in a while, she'd get the idea in her head that she was overweight and ugly and should do smth about it, but, then, avery or one of her friends would help her get better.
the reason she's drawn to men like drake is bc it's the only thing she's familiar with. her mom was a piece of shit too, so for her its what's normal/what she deserves (this is less of a head canon and more psychology but eh)
she'll do anything anyone asks of her. she can't say no even if it makes her uncomfortable/she doesn't have the time/doesn't like that person.
she sometimes gets so mad at the world that she punches walls until her bones almost break.
she hates getting mad at people bc she reminds herself of her mother.
she's terrified of becoming a mother (even though she wants to be one) bc she's convinced herself that she'll be like her mom, if not worse.
her mom used to get mad at her for ricky (her father) leaving. so much so that libby started blaming herself for it
drake used to tell libby that if she didn't let him have his way with her, he'd hurt avery. libby, of course, didn't want that so she would let him do awful things to her.
she hates taking baths bc drake used to waterboard her (if you don't know what that is, search it up)
when libby used to do things her mom didn't approve of/like (mistakes all children make and learn from like spilling a glass of milk), she would deny libby basic needs like food, water, a bed to sleep in etc.
idk if this one will make sense (it makes sense to me but idk), but libby dyes her hair a new color very often bc its a way for her to start anew. like lets say she breaks up with drake again and she hates herself for getting back together with him in the first place, she dyes her hair a new color to signify the beginning of a new era.
she will literally break her back to please people/be the person they want her to be. if they think she talks to much, she'll stop talking, etc (people's opinions of her matter a lot to her)
tw prob one of the darkest hcs i've ever written: libby ended up in the hospital once bc she slit her wrists trying to off herself. this happened right before she took avery in. the doctors didn't think she'd make it.
she'd considered offing herself multiple times before and after the last hc, but she doesn't bc just the thought of it makes her feel guilty. she doesn't want people to cry over her bc she thinks she doesn't deserve their tears, and she doesn't want to leave people she wants to help
she insists everyone get therapy but herself bc, to her, other people matter more
the only thing that brought her comfort as a child was this stuffed bunny. she used to press it to her wounds bc it would dull the pain (this might not make sense but whenever i get hurt (cause im ass clumsy bitch), putting pressure on the wound dulls the pain). she also found comfort in how soft it was.
drake threw that bunny away cause he thought it was worthless. libby told nash about this and he searched the entire fucking country until he found that damn stuffed bunny (idk how he did but he's a hawthorne so...)
when she has panic attacks, she'll either be very silent/still in a corner or she'll be clawing/pulling at anything around her (including herself)
she didn't do well in school not bc she wasn't smart but bc the students and teachers were so creepy towards her (would harass her constantly) that she felt uncomfortable even stepping into the school
absolutely hates it when drunk people interact with her/get too close to her bc whenever drake got drunk, he'd hit her
hannah's death hit her hard too. they were actually much closer than people thought they were. hannah helped her through a lot of shitty things that happened in her life. she would visit her grave every once in a while to tell her she wished she was still here bc her life (and avery's) was absolutely shit without her. she would breakdown in the middle of the graveyard every time
whenever she felt like hurting herself but didn't have a blade nearby, she would dig her fingernails into the already existing wounds to make them bleed again.
drake once beat her up so bad she ended up in the hospital with brain swelling and a fractured arm. the swelling in her brain was so bad they didn't know if she'd make it out alive.
here's a happy libby head canon to (hopefully) make it all better:
she used to be this supervisor at a daycare when she was younger (that's probably not even a thing but lets pretend it is). the kid would make her drawings all of the time with hearts and proposals and stuff. she loved the kids so much, she would hug every single one of them and bake them cupcakes. they were literally her best friends, and some of them still send her messages through their mom/dad (she would befriend their parents and give them her number/email)
not proof read bc i'm a lazy ass bitch. i say this in every post, but pls talk to someone if you need help (if there's no one in your life you can talk to, contact a helpline). sending lots of love to everyone <3.
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y2kawaii · 2 days
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༊*·˚ The Grieving Husband And Lost Widow — Part One (John Wick X Fem Reader)
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Summary: John was a loving husband to his wife, Helen…that was, until she succumbed to a mysterious illness that has plagued their relationship for years before her being hospitalized for the final time. After saying his last goodbyes, John was about to leave the hospital until he ran into (Y/N) – who happened to also be grieving the loss of her spouse.
The last few months proved to be a challenge for (Y/N) with her husband being sick with a mysterious illness that the doctors haven't been able to find a cure to or even properly diagnose. So, on the last day of your husband's life, (Y/N) went to visit him in the hospital for one last time, just to hear his voice and hold his hand before he took that dreaded last breath.
"I love you, (Y/N)..." Your husband's breathing was incredibly shallow as it became more and more difficult for him to breathe normally as his soul steadily slipped away from (Y/N)'s reach.
"I love you, too..." (Y/N) stifled back the tears that were threatening to fall free from her eyes, not wanting to cry in front of your dying husband.
Then, just like that, (Y/N)'s husband took his final breath. His eyes closed, and his head turned ever so slowly onto the pillow that was underneath it as his hand slipped away from your own, signaling that he was now completely gone.
Overwhelmed by the grief of losing your husband, (Y/N) wiped your eyes and stormed out of the confined hospital room that your husband just passed away in. Now officially a widow, you could feel your heart instantly split into two; it was a pain that you couldn't describe, like your heart has been ripped out of your chest.
Now alone, without your lover, (Y/N) was blindly rushing through the hallway of the hospital with your head hanging down, allowing the long locks of your hair to fall in front of your face. However, (Y/N) would suddenly be stopped once she bumped straight into the muscular chest of a man who happened to be standing there, appearing to be lost in the trance of his own grief. Their impact would shortly be followed by a small clank that could be heard on the ground, only for (Y/N) to glance down and realize that what just fell was a necklace that the man must've been holding.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" (Y/N) exclaimed as you promptly bent down to pick up the piece of golden jewelry that the man was previously holding onto. Then after stretching your hand out to the man to return the necklace, (Y/N) would end up shifting her gaze up until it met his own.
"It's alright," the man responded. His voice was so deep yet also slightly gravely, which was something that made (Y/N)'s heart skip a beat in a way that it hasn't ever since you met your husband. Of course, you don't let those thoughts get to you in that very moment, knowing that you were already vulnerable to the emotions that were circulating through your mind. Then (Y/N) would notice the faint streaks of tears that were also visible on the man's cheeks, right underneath his eyes.
Caught off-guard by the sight, (Y/N) couldn't help but become concerned for the man whom she'd just bumped into. "Are you...okay?" You ask with hesitance, but there was also a trace of concern laced through your voice.
"Eh..." The man grumbled at first before protectively curling the necklace in his fist, "I will be." He eventually added with a shrug of his shoulders - it was as if he was trying to act nonchalant. His voice even started to sound more gloomy than it did before (if that was possible).
"I was...going to have a couple of drinks down at the bar." (Y/N) spoke up softly, swaying yourself slightly as the awkward tension increased between the two grieving souls. "If you want, I could buy you a drink."
At first, the man appeared hesitant at the idea. His head tilted from either side while his eyes were locked down onto the necklace that he held securely in his fist. Then, after what felt like an eternity that was really only a few seconds, he made a light nod of his head in agreement to (Y/N)'s offer.
"Yeah...yeah, I'd like that." He answered, his deep voice softening only slightly as his eyes locked directly onto yours. It was only then when (Y/N) noticed the dark brown shade of the tall and fairly muscular man, and they made your heart flutter in a way that it did from your husband.
Turning to leave the hospital, (Y/N) quickens your stride to stay beside the man. For some reason, (Y/N) began to feel a subtle smile forming across your face, but decided against making any mentions of it. Instead, you speak up the very question that has been on your mind since you first laid eyes on the man. "So...what's your name?" You ask as the man walked out of the hospital with (Y/N), the front doors opening for them as they went outside and began strolling down the sidewalk to the nearby bar.
"It's..." The man began, but then cleared his throat as the words got caught in him. After a beat, however, he took in a sharp breath while staying focused on the path that was ahead of them.
"John. John Wick."
(this is part one! depending on how this fanfic performs, there will be a few more parts to come for this fanfic! ♡ )
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skrrtscree · 3 days
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P3M MAKOTO YUKI MISCONCEPTIONS
To be honest, it kind of annoys me when people watch the persona 3 movies and come away with it with the wrong idea of what Makotos character is in them. I don't mean the people who don't like the movies or their portrayal of him. It's fine if you don't, btw. Media is subjective, and different people will take away different things from the same thing, but I feel like some people end up completely missing the mark and mischaractizing that version of him.
For all the odd choices the p3 movies make, I'm adamant that his character and his arc is the best part about them, so it kind of urks me when i see tharpeople take away from it is that 'he's emotionless and devoid of personality' or 'a complete asshole who doesn't care about anything' both of which is untrue in all the films.
CW: blood in one of the images (the car accident scene, it just shows the hand but still)
First of all, the whole him being 'rude and uncaring' thing; To be honest, nothing he says strikes me as rude, it all comes off as blunt and not fitting the situation (him asking if they can leave during the hospital scene, and his answer seemingly having no sympathy when they talk to Natsuki). Of course to those who don't know him that well, he comes off as cold especially since his facial expression or tone barely change.
And the uncaring bit continues to get debunked through every film. Even in the first film, where he's closed himself off and doesn't care about living. He awakens to his persona to protect Yukari, he helps Fuuka collect her stuff twice despite not knowing her and even listens to her talk about Natsuki, he summons a different persona and throws himself at the Priestess to save Junpei. He goes against what he was told to do and goes straight into Tartarus because of the fear that his team will die if he doesn't.
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It's made clear in the first movie that despite avoiding connections with people, he still can't let people die, deep down he cares about those around him getting hurt and wants to prevent that. It seems to heavily be rooted by his PTSD of the accident, him getting flashbacks to it in both the second and third full moon at the thought of someone dying. He's willing to throw himself in danger, not giving up even if he gets hurt or could exhaust himself, he has no care about his life, but he still cares about those around him.
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The only claim I could see holding weight is the 'no personality' part but that's mainly because he spends half of the first film following orders from other people, but that itself can be seen as part of him, he doesn't have any direction or any care about his life so he follows what everyone tells and wants from him. He fights because he was told hed make a great asset to the team, he stays behind because him going would make Yukari mad, he has no reason not to listen or any argument to refute it, and this is dismantled near the end where he refuses to listen when they tell him to run because he can't let anyone die.
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This is all I've gathered from the first movie still, I could carry on for all of them (and there is alot to talk about in each one in regards to his character) but I think I've made my point. Not only does they continue to prove those points incorrect, his character continues to evolve with the events around him.
I don't think there's a right or wrong way to write or portray makoto. The movies are not the be- all-all-end all of his characterization, but when you're talking about or writing that specific version of him, just don't end up writing him in a way that completely contradicts what the film shows.
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t1oui · 1 day
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@jegulus-microfic | april 25th | headlights | 1,222 words | cw: mentions of a car accident, hospitals, mentions of smoking (nothing graphic)
Regulus tries so hard to think that Sirius is an idiot. That bloody thing'll kill you, he remembers saying. Sirius had only laughed. No one's laughing now.
It was just a Friday night. Regulus got home from work late and was looking forward to doing nothing until Monday morning. Was looking forward to being alone, sitting around with popcorn and staring at the telly until he fell asleep. Now, the idea of a simple night in feels light years away.
He never gets what he wants.
Sitting on a stiff white chair outside Sirius's room at St. Mungo's, Regulus's leg bounces up and down at a frantic pace, mind racing. Didn't he see the headlights? Didn't he try and stop? It wasn't his fault, they said. Regulus's older brother is in a hospital bed and he wants to strangle the idiot who put him there.
Remus is sitting across from him, eyes red-rimmed and body curled in around himself. He arrived before Regulus. Pettigrew was pacing until Remus yelled at him and he mumbled something about getting a coffee.
It feels like hours before Potter arrives. Regulus and Remus are only taking up two of maybe eight seats crowded into the hallway, but James sits right next to him. He's crying, too busy looking at his phone to pay Regulus any mind beside him.
"Why are you here?" Regulus grumbles. He sounds like shit. The corridor is far too bright for someone who wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. James glances up at him, looking confused and distressed and tired. God, Regulus is so fucking tired.
"My best friend is... he's...." James gestures helplessly to the room behind them. They're not whispering, but their voices are hoarse. Remus isn't paying attention anyway - he's been staring into space for hours now. "He's in there."
"No," Regulus says, shaking his head in frustration. He hates when people don't understand him. "Why are you... here. There's so many seats."
James stares at him for a moment. He still holds his phone in his lap - if Regulus looks closely, he can see the name Lily written across the top of the screen with a pink flower beside it. James opens his mouth to speak, but Regulus interrupts him, pointing to the phone.
"That's a hibiscus flower, you know."
"What?" James doesn't sound like he's actually processing anything Regulus is saying. Regulus presses his finger next to Lily's contact name. He remembers her from school. He never liked her much.
"The flower here," he says. "It's not a lily. It's a hibiscus."
James sniffles, shrugging helplessly. "There's no lily emoji," he says. "This one's good enough."
Regulus doesn't say that he thinks that's sort of stupid. He's too tired to, and he knows James doesn't really care. Who does?
"I don't want to be lonely," James tells him. Regulus stares at his ear.
"What?"
"You asked," James says, shrugging again. He shrugs a lot. "Why I sat next to you."
Regulus looks up, glances over to Remus. He's managed to gather all of his limbs up onto the small hospital chair and is staring into space, eyes glazed over, arms wrapped around his knees. "Why didn't you sit next to him?"
James's answer comes so quiet that he has to lean closer to hear. "I'd still be alone."
Regulus stares at him. "Oh." He wonders where Pettigrew's gotten off to. Wonders if Lily will come to take James home, will gather Remus into the car too. Wonders who will take him home now that the motorcycle he hates so much is nothing more than a pile of scraps, its owner not much more.
"D'you wanna see a picture of my cat?" James asks. Regulus looks back at him. James is tilting his phone towards Regulus, even though he never answered, and Regulus finds himself leaning closer again to look. His cheek brushes James's shoulder, and he expects James to tense up - they barely know each other. James is probably humoring him, but his best friend's weird little brother leaning his head on his shoulder is probably the last straw. James is just being nice because he's sad. Last Regulus heard, he has a pretty girl and a son waiting for him at home.
But James leans into the touch. Regulus is too tired to pull away. (Part of him doesn't want to pull away. He tells this part to be quiet.)
"Her name's Leo," James says, holding up his phone to reveal a small gray tabby. The smile is evident in his voice, which is soft and close to Regulus's ear. It sounds like a lullaby. "Harry named her."
"Leo," Regulus says softly. James's curls are tickling his cheek. It's not an unpleasant feeling - it reminds him of walking barefoot over grass on a sunny day.
"Like the constellation," James explains. "It's Haz's favorite. 'Course, he is a Leo, so he's a bit biased there...."
Regulus glances down and notices his fingers loosely intertwined with James's. He doesn't remember doing that.
"Leo's the constellation -" he begins.
"Your star," James replies. He sighs softly, content but a little shaky. "Yeah."
They're both silent for a while. It's weirdly comfortable, even in the buzzing hospital, even with Remus sitting numb across from them and Sirius laying unconscious behind them and Peter knocking around, probably smoking the pack of cigarettes Regulus saw him slip out of Remus's pocket before he disappeared.
"Is Lily going to pick you up?" Regulus asks.
"She has Harry tonight," James says instead of answering. It only leaves Regulus with more questions.
"I thought..." Regulus begins, but he doesn't know what he thinks, not really. James seems to, though.
"We broke up," he says simply. He shrugs a little, only one shoulder, trying not to jostle Regulus's head. "Few years ago."
Regulus is quiet for a while. He remembers school, seeing James's golden-brown arm wrapped around Lily's pale shoulders. He remembers a pang of pain at the sight, feels it now, a dull ache located deep within his chest. "I'm sorry to hear that," he says, but he doesn't sound sincere.
"Don't be," James says. He's turned his head, and his lips brush just barely against Regulus's forehead. He should pull away, but instead, he just closes his eyes. "She's my best friend."
Regulus squeezes James's hand. "I'm glad you're here," he whispers.
James squeezes back. "I'm glad you're here, too," he replies.
He sets his phone down on his lap, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a jumbled ball of headphones. He tries for a minute or so to untangle them one-handed before finally sighing and pulling his fingers out from between Regulus's, pulling the earbuds into his phone. He hands one to Regulus.
"Put it in," he says, watching Regulus do nothing.
"Why?" Regulus asks.
"It's too... something in here."
Regulus gives him a small smile as he puts the earbud in. It fits weird, but not uncomfortable weird like he remembers. Just different. As he settles his head back onto James's shoulder, a soft melody begins to play into his ear. James sets the phone down on his knee before taking Regulus's hand again, resting his head against Regulus's curls. Regulus takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.
Maybe this night won't be as long as he thought.
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claudia-kishi · 15 hours
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life is short and time is weird. ever since i've moved here, the guy who rented the garage under my apt would be there almost every night working on his motorcycle, which annoyed the fuck out of me. i told my friends about it if they ever came over. even complained about it yesterday night when having dinner with some friends.
came back home to see heavy police presence. i had no news or any info after googling and everything, so i figured i'd find out later. woke up this morning to find out the motorcycle dude hit a bump and lost control, and his injuries were so bad that he died at the hospital. and the time shows that it was before i had dinner with friends. which made me feel well awful.
like i don't even know this guy but i saw him almost every day, and he helped me move my couch to my apartment, and he was kind enough to move his truck around so i could get to my own garage. and now my apt is quiet when normally i would have my nightly routine of shaking my fists in the air wondering when the sound would stop.
anyways i just needed to type this out somewhere so i could remember how i am feeling today because death is something i don't really know how to process and it happening was very much and it's making me think very cliche thoughts like life is short and live your life to the fullest. but also. they're cliche for a reason.
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pumpkinbxtch · 19 hours
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Hii, can you do a Leo Valdez x Reader one-shot about the reader getting deaf or half-deaf? Like when he discovers, or even hcs😭. I'm asking this because I got half-deaf last year and there's ZERO content about that with pjo characters. It's okay if you don't want to do it or feel uncomfortable❤️❤️❤️
ᝰ.ᐟ leo valdez x half-deaf!reader headcanons
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☆ radiostar is playin': on melancholy hill by gorillaz
warnings: none!
a/n: hi! i read your two posts and saw that you finally leaned towards headcanons. don't worry, it's okay, baby. Anyway! i have some experience in this because i had a classmate who was also half-deaf so here we go. If i make any mistakes, please let me know, okay? thank you for putting your trust in me. i hope you are very well.
— kisses from the hypothetical planet vulcan. 🧡
∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°
he was like boom in love and love pushes you to do things you never thought of doing, right?
At first, he's scared of messing things up with you, as if him being clumsy in love wasn't enough. He didn't want to offend you in any way, so he practically searched every corner of the library. You got him to read! And this fool never reads because it's hard for him, but there he was, researching about the topic.
He's definitely the type who always tries to help because he knows it can be tough sometimes, so when you have to go out in public, he makes sure to hold your hand tightly and NEVER let go.
He always positions himself on the good ear side so you can hear him better, and he gets even closer to you if there's too much noise around.
When he arrives somewhere and you don't see him immediately, he tries to make it noticeable that someone else has arrived, so he doesn't startle you.
But this guy is sometimes a teaser, and when you both reach that level of trust, he'll say things from afar knowing you won't hear well, but only because what he's saying is embarrassing
"I love you, I'm going to marry you, and I'm warning you from now on," he says from the entrance, and you deal with just seeing his lips move and hearing halfway.
You squint and shout, "What?!" and he laughs, so you show him the middle finger. "Idiot, you know I can't hear you."
Leo rushes towards you, and after giving you a kiss on the cheek, he whispers gently in your ear: "i'm sayin that one day your last name will be Valdez," and well, you end up as red as the forges he works in.
If you're the one who enters while he's working in the bunker or wherever he is, he immediately puts down the tools and gives you his full attention. This is also because he wants to make sure there are no loud noises when you're around. Sometimes you tell him it's not necessary for him to stop, but he does it anyway.
Although, if you insist, he'll look for the ear protectors he bought/made for you and ask you to wear them because he wants to keep you safe. Both of you might be wearing them, and even though he's working with dangerous, heavy materials, he can't help but steal glances with that loving gaze of his. Because oh gods, he fell so hard for you.
Even when both are alone, to talk to you, he gets close to the point where your foreheads are touching and gazes fixed on each other. You tell him he can back off a bit, and he shakes his head while giving you a kiss on the nose. "I know, but I still want to be close to you."
When there's not much noise on the street that could be dangerous, he chooses to walk with you arm in arm, continuing to tell you things and talk nonsense that makes you laugh.
Leo doesn't like going to hospitals much, but if he has to accompany you to your regular check-ups, he will, or he'll tell you that Will Solace is a very good doctor.
He whispers sweet nothings in your ear every night, to let you know he loves you.
Here comes a huge confession from Leo Valdez, he's definitely working on a device that could help you. With the help of the Apollo cabin, he thinks he could pull it off, and he's just refining it every day to improve your life because he simply wants the best for you. Even if he ultimately has to scrap it, he'll look for other types of gadgets he can create to help you.
Although he knows you can manage, Leo feels good and proud to be able to help the person he loves. You're the one who made him explore that part of himself where he looks out for your emotional and physical well-being.
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pocketramblr · 2 days
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AU where Rei had an secret affair with Giran
I'd question it except it's Giran so I don't
1- ok so, the way Ujiko or AfO or whoever got onto the forums Touya was on to be bad influences, they got his account from Giran, who while he was at it, got the information on other accounts the family had on various other sites. Endeavor really was too busy to ever use them... But Rei wasn't. So Giran starts up an online friendship turned flirtation with her.
2- when Shoto is three years old, Rei goes to get coffee with a cousin who ends up being over an hour late with no word. Rei is a little upset and mentions it in her texts with her friend, who asks which coffee house she's at so he can join her at least. She thinks it's a joke until he turns up, and well, it's easier to justify a bit of flirting if it's joking and friendly with someone you've never actually seen. Harder once you've met him in person.
3- for the next two years, the dates escalate. Rei's pregnancies were hard on her body and after her last one, she had her tubes tied- didn't need anyone after Shoto was so clearly perfect, after all. So, no fear of pregnancy at least. Plenty of fear of other things though, like her children's treatment and her husband's obsession. (Which is she thinks the only reason he never noticed or suspected anything, though the fact that she'd spiral in panic some days and delete a lot of messages that no one else was even looking at did leave less of a trail.)
4- Rei's on the phone with Giran when she breaks down and burns Shoto. He shows up at the hospital the next day, a concerned family friend. Enji isn't there to question it, and Rei eventually agrees to see him. She's more distressed about her children though, and apologizing to everyone. It gets better, slowly. Sometimes he's there where Fuyumi and Natsuo visit, so when the housekeeper quits and there's no one to help Fuyumi with the cooking, she calls the number of Mom's friend, asks what she should do but please don't tell Mom or Dad or Grandma or- Giran tells her it's ok, he can find a replacement for her, he knows someone who needs a job anyway.
5- wow nifty for Giran that he gets direct Intel on everything happening in the Todoroki house even without Rei telling him things. I'm sure that won't lead to some pretty targeted attacks against Endeavor and his agency that could do a lot more damage than in canon anyway sure that's not important. Rei is still compensated well for the information she doesn't know she's giving up, because Giran is fair even if he isn't honest, and he does like her. He'd set her up with her own place, if she was discharged from the hospital, but a few years in she's still refusing as she doesn't feel she's safe around her kids outside yet, but maybe it'll change with more time.
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crimeronan · 4 months
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i should probably clarify for the sake of being sensitive re my tags on the vid i just reblogged: some people do in fact get sad enough to kill themselves when they get caught doing bad things. i could be wrong in my assumption that somerton absolutely did not do that. i also don't really care whether he did or not because it's so unbelievably tacky to open an apology with "i don't want to make this a sob story, i was just so sad i tried to kill myself and everyone who has a parasocial relationship with me needs to feel bad/guilty/worried on my behalf, and everyone who doesn't have a parasocial relationship with me needs to feel bad/guilty/worried if they wanted to hold me accountable for anything. but i'm so sorry for making this a sob story! it's not like this is a prerecorded video that i have full editing control of or anything"
like.... i don't care if you actually were in the hospital or not. you chose to open your apology video with the most blatant and pathetic kind of emotional manipulation possible & i don't care for it. it's literally no one's problem except yours and your loved ones' if you were in the hospital. it's no one else's responsibility. certainly not the responsibility of the people you wronged.
people doing this shit brings out my lowest-empathy tendencies because it gets to my high-empathy friends and i've known too many people held hostage by their partners/friends/parents threatening suicide over the years, so whenever i see people being like "oh, he really does seem upset, though" i'm like.
listen. i know he looks sad in the video. i know he's saying he wants to be dead.
You Don't Have To Fuckin' Believe Him.
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i-tzi · 4 months
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POKEDDEXY DAY 1: BUG TYPE (#988)
Another year, another Pokeddexy!! 🎉
I honestly don't know how much I'll be able to combine because objectively January is kind of a shitty month for me lol
But WHO CARES, enjoy my boys, see you again at the end of the challenge if I'm still alive lol o|-<
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