#I watched a whole ass video about how to suture for this

[softquietsteadylove]

Hi :) I read all of your prompts here and I really love them all! So I was thinking how about and hospital Thenamesh AU? You choose if both are doctors or one of them being a doc and the other one a patient!

Pretty sure you will write something great!

"Just look at them."

"You mean look at Gil."

"I bet when he does CPR their bones are just shattered."

Thena huffs, slapping down the tablet with her charts (that is exactly why they have shock absorbent cases). "Are you going to actually help with the incoming patients?--or would you prefer to stand around them and watch them save lives instead of participating?"

The various interns and a few nurses scurry to cover up their open appraisal of their colleagues. "S-Sorry, Doctor."

Thena just rolls her eyes at them. It's a phenomenon in the ER that the EMTs and paramedics are the desired dating pool for anyone looking. And unfortunately for Thena, her emergency room is the hub for such dating pools. "Tell me what we've got."

"Kid fell off his bike, has a pretty nasty lesion from it," she gets briefed, receiving the necessary information. "He'll live, but we told him to prepare himself mentally to get stitched up."

Thena looks up at Gil as he gives her the lowdown on her patient. Gil is such a softie at heart, and he absolutely has a weakness for kids. She smiles, "did you tell him he was coming to see the scariest trauma specialist in town?"

"Nope, but I did tell him my very good friend Thena would take extra good care of him," Gil beams right in the face of her cynicism and snark with upturned eyes and full cheeks. He leans down to whisper, "especially since one his dads has been panicking the whole way here?"

"I see," Thena nods with a sigh. She's not the best at dealing with those accompanying her patients; she's not exactly known for her bedside manner. "You've talked to them?"

"Tried," Gil shrugs, still walking with her as the young man gets taken down the hall and transferred from his stretcher to a proper bed. "You know how parents can be."

"Yes, I certainly do," Thena mutters, speaking quietly and quickly with Gil as she prepares to deal with her least favourite part of her job. She pulls on a pair of gloves, "but usually your charm is more effective at subduing them before they reach me."

"Maybe I'm losing my touch."

"I doubt it," she gives him a coy little smirk as she sits on her stool and wheels it over to the boy. "Hello, Jack. My name is Thena, I'll be stitching you up tonight."

The kid sniffles a little but nods, putting on a much braver face than one of his fathers.

"Where did that nice paramedic go?" the panicky one asks, his glasses moving on his face as he looks around.

"Gil has to brief the nurse's station on their run and release their equipment so it can be restocked for the next one," Thena answers straightforward as she starts her most basic examination of both Jack and his injury. "How did this happen, hm?"

"Riding around with those hooligans, that's how!"

"Dad," Jack sighs up at his anxious father. He looks at Thena again, "we were taking turns going down the big hill by the old library. I guess I hit a rock or something, and..."

"You know," Thena looks at Jack with the smile Gil tells her is more effective than she thinks it is, "it's a good thing you were wearing a helmet when this happened. Or I'd be stitching up...all this-"

Jack laughs away the rest of his tears as Thena motions to the general vicinity of his head.

"Okay," Thena looks at Jack as she picks up her scissors, "are you ready?"

Jack looks at his parents and their held hands before nodding.

"Sorry," Thena mutters as she cuts his pants at the knee.

"I never liked those jeans anyway."

"Phastos, please," one husband says to the other, who physically zips his lips.

Thena lets out a faint laugh as she knots her line and takes her sutures in hand. "Did Gil tell you about how things work?"

Jack nods, watching her with her hooked needle anxiously.

"Gil told me that he already applied the topical anaesthetic," Thena explains, although she remembers after the fact that she needs to use more everyday terminology. "The numbing cream is going to help with the pain, okay?"

"Okay."

"How's...this?" Thena asks, applying some very light pressure on the cleaned wound's edges.

Jack squirms, "it kind of stings a little, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be."

"It's okay to be scared," Thena says as she makes the first bite and anchors her monofillament. "But this is just going to ensure that your scrape here heals properly."

"Jack, how we doin'?" Gil asks as he rejoins them, leaning over Thena's shoulder as she works. "See?--didn't I tell you she's the coolest doctor in the place?"

"She's pretty cool," Jack concedes, less tense as he looks at Gil instead of at Thena sewing up his shin.

"Gilgamesh, I am trying to work," she says in a light tone, since they both know she could complete Jack's suturing with her eyes closed.

"It's been a quiet night," he shrugs, winking at Jack, who laughs. He looks at his fathers again, one of whom seems to appreciate his sense of humour (the other one is just trying to breathe). "Don't worry, Doctor Thena here is the best at what she does. I trust her with my life."

"Don't let him fool you," Thena murmurs as she throws her next knot, "most of the people I get in here already have the benefit of his care before they even see me. I quite literally couldn't do my job without him."

"Aw, honey," Gil jokes, blushing and pushing his hands into the pockets he's thrown on over his uniform. "You're embarrassing me in front of the patient."

"Was he like this in the ambulance?" Thena peeks up at Jack, who is still laughing at their interaction. She shakes her head, already done with her work. "He's all charming on the way here and then people get scared of me--makes me look bad."

"Come on," he nudges her with his fist within his hoodie pocket. The parents startle a little at the thought of him jostling her when she has a needle in their child's skin. But they also notice in this moment that she's already done and handing her needle back for disposal. "You couldn't look bad if you tried."

Thena rolls her eyes, although she's smiling--she can feel it. It really hurts her reputation of being the 'scary' ER doctor. She looks at Jack, "guess what?"

"What?"

Thena holds up her hands, pulling off her gloves and throwing them away. "I've been done for five minutes already."

"Oh," Jack blinks down at his stitched up leg. He can barely even tell what happened, "whoa."

Gil nods at Jack and rests his pocket on Thena's shoulder, which she swats away gently, "best in the biz."

"Thank you, Doctor," the less nervous father expresses with a winsome smile, gripping his son's shoulder. "You've both made this a much more bearable experience for us."

"That's what he's for."

"That's why she's the best."

Gil and Thena both look at each other for the contrasting statements, although they share the same sentiment, in a way.

"I'll get your paperwork done and then I do believe you can head home," Thena smiles as she stands, her ponytail swinging as she does. She nods at the calmer husband, "your husband deserves to take it easy the rest of the night, I think."

The father smiles at her, "as does yours!"

Thena blushes. She honest-to-god blushes, her hands flailing around in front of her as she tries to form the words. "N-No, h-he's not--we're-"

"If only," Gil just laughs, heading back to the nurse's station with Thena's charts in hand (which he's really not supposed to be doing, but everyone knows that Thena and Gil kind of play it fast and loose with how much he's really allowed to hang around at her side).

[friendlylocalwhumper]

interviews

colby | colby released | desmond and kip | desmond and kip released | sonia | sonia released | major | major meets nona | state of affairs 1

Interview 1: Remy

“What’s your name?”

Long black curls frame an elegant face. Kind eyes are shadowed by thick eyebrows and circles underneath from exhaustion. Bruising spans across the cheekbone catching the light from offscreen, blue and green and yellow. He cradles his left elbow like a single wrong twitch will get him writhing in pain.

“Remy,” He whispers to the person behind the camera.

“Remy. What happened to you?”

His eyes flick to something the camera isn’t pointed at. His fingers flex slightly with nerves. “I… got caught sneaking in someplace.”

“Why were you sneaking?”

The shirt that he’s wearing, heather grey and wrinkled, has blood on it. There’s a smear of brown by his nose: dried blood. Remy lifts his good arm, leaving the injured one alone, to tuck his nose into the crook of his elbow and inhale. It appears to calm him down.

“Is there something special about that shirt, Remy?”

He glances up and nods, talking into his sleeve, speaking above a whisper now but it makes no difference, his voice is muffled. “Yeah. It’s… I borrowed it. I was sneaking in, to see… his parents wouldn’t approve. They were never going to. A warlock, a boy… I just wanted to see him. Not even do anything. We’ve only kissed.”

“I’m not judging you, Remy.”

Nervous tapping fingers still. He offers a jerking nod. “I know. It’s just… this is all I have, his shirt. My shirt. He gave it to me, said it’s mine now. It still smells like him. It won’t forever. And I won’t see him again. I promised I’d keep coming back, even if it wasn’t safe for me. As long as it was safe for him.” Remy falls silent, haunted. “...He said it was safe.”

The interviewer allows him a moment to collect himself. Then, they ask, “Was he wrong?”

Tanned fingers scratch idly at a scabbed-over cut on his cheek. “...He was really wrong. I got… we got caught. I never used magic in that house, I swear. Never even talked about it. I just wanted to be with him. His brother came in. Tried to kill me.”

“What exactly happened? What made you think he was trying to kill you, not just scare you off?”

Remy snorts. “Grabbed me by the neck, tried to shove me out the window I climbed in. I almost fell. M-... my… the guy I was with, he defended me. Got into it with his brother so I could run. I tried to grab my shirt off the floor, but I got his instead. He might be dead. He might hate me.” Remy is staring at the floor, shoulder scrunched up to his cheek like the pressure can replace a warm hand cupped there in support.

“What happened to your arm?”

A twinge of pain rolls through the limb as Remy’s reminded of it. “Oh. The brother, he pulled on it. Messed something up, inside, I think. I don’t know any healers.”

“And what’s it mean for a magic user, if you can’t find a healer?”

Dark lips angled into a frown, Remy looks into the camera for the first time. “You find a place to hole up and you hope it heals on its own.”

“No hospitals means you’ve gotta make do with what you can find. Can you always find supplies when you need them?”

He snorts, eyes back on the interviewer. “Barely ever. Mostly you can find the basic stuff, or trade for it. Wrappings, uh, rubbing alcohol, bandaids. But the painkillers, the suture kits, the, uh, splints and slings, that stuff is impossible to get. I’ve seen…” Curls ranging from pitch black to a deep warm mahogany, depending on how much light they catch, get thrown dense and wild as he shakes his head. “That’s dark stuff, though.”

“Go on. Just the truth, that’s all I’m looking for. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Remy scrunches up his nose, itching at the blood clinging to the skin there. “Um. Yeah, okay. I was saying… I’ve seen people die from not being able to get bandages, using hoodies and stuff instead. Infection. Seen kids… there’s just, a lot of bad stuff happening, that doesn’t have to happen, just ‘cause we can’t get what we need.”

“So your arm? What are you going to do about it?”

With his good shoulder, he shrugs. “I don’t know. Get drunk and find someone to shove at it until it pops back into place, I guess. Or just try not to move it, for a couple weeks, and hope it’ll fix itself. Even if I do find a healer, I don’t have anything to trade. So, um… I guess I’m kind of screwed.”

The interviewer doesn’t answer. Remy’s eyes find the camera again, brown twinkling with the same light that illuminates the colors of pain at his cheek. The image freezes, the video finished playing, lingering on the face of the warlock who was resigned to pain and little hope of finding any help, even from his own kind.

Interview 2: Nona

The video starts with a blur of movement. Brown carpet that’s been crushed into a grimy, stale, solid mass. Stained walls, a torn beanbag chair, limp hands with split knuckles.

“Tell me about the safehouse.”

The witch tips her head, eyes narrowed. The camera is aimed at her, and she looks like she wants to fight it. “Why.”

“Because it matters. You matter. Someone, someday, is gonna ask how we survived. You’re part of the answer.”

The interviewer’s explanation doesn’t flatter her. Lilac hair goes flying as the witch tosses her head back, clearing the straight strands from her face.

“I’m Nona,” She starts, mouth hanging open on the last vowel. She tests the camera’s patience for a handful of seconds before continuing. “I’m a witch. I run this safehouse. It’s a grimy shithole but ask anyone who comes through, they know I’m in charge.”

“So I’ve heard. Does it matter, that they know?”

“That I’m in charge? Fuck yeah. You’ve gotta make it clear. No one’s in charge, anyone can throw their jacked-up muscle around, then people are getting the shit beat out of them all over power struggles. One guy wants the living room to himself, the other’s decided he rules the kitchen and if you want food, you gotta pay an entry fee. Stresses everyone out. Gets people more hurt than they already are. That’s why I kick people out, lay down a couple rules, show my face every now and then.”

“You’ve got to remind everyone that there’s someone keeping the place running.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. It doesn’t work, otherwise. And they could take over anytime. I think about it all the time. But they know I keep the fridge stocked. They know I forgive shitty mistakes and let the worst ones come back when they’ve been fucked up by cops, or something. I found this place and I built it up myself. Boarded up the windows, got the electricity going, sewed up the shitty cushions so you can sit down without fluff shooting out of the seams. And you know how long it took me?”

“No. How long?”

“One motherfucking day. I did it in one day. You know why I busted my ass for sixteen hours?”

“Why?”

“Because if I didn’t finish, if I didn’t get a lock on that front door to keep the dumbest non-magic criminal fucks out, I wouldn’t have a place to sleep that night. I put the lock in last, because if I couldn’t manage the rest in time, I didn’t deserve to fucking sleep. I wanted to make this a place that people could sleep, at least. And I did it. People know that. Ask me why they don’t do it themselves, make a new place, get to be in charge.”

“Why?”

“Because they hurt. They’ve been sleeping on floors, and getting beat up, and they’ve been walking in shoes that don’t fit them. Because they’re angry, and paranoid, and tired all the time, and they can’t pick a lock without their hands shaking, so they sure as shit can’t fix up a whole house. And they’re so focused on fighting each other, watching their own back, making sure their stuff isn’t stolen, that they can’t stop to pick up a project and see it through.”

“Are all magic users like that?”

“Mmh…” Nona taps her chin. “Most of them. It’s the easier way to be. You get stuck in a loop of getting hurt, running, hiding, going out again to get something you need, and getting hurt again. It’s hard to get out of that. The only ones who can really try to do more are, like, witches who get tired of the loop. The guys, they don’t get out of it as much. But we don’t live long, anyway, so it’s not like anybody gets much of a chance to change through the years. There’s no plans, just trying to live through the day to get to sleep again.”

Nona cracks her knuckles and stretches, lounging in the beanbag chair a moment before sitting upright again and scuffing the heel of her boot against the floor.

“Does anyone ever challenge you? Try to take over?”

The witch nods, hair falling forward over her shoulders to brush her cheeks. “Sometimes. I knock ‘em on their ass with magic, though, so they never get far.”

“Get far?”

“They never do much. I don’t let ‘em.”

“Never do much? What is it they try to do?”

Eyes dark with makeup glint with anger. “They try shit. You’re not stupid. This talk’s over.”

“What do they-”

“You get that camera out of my face,” Nona growls, knocking it off whatever held it, sending the picture flying with blurry smeared colors, “Or I’ll-”

The audio cuts off, and the video stops on a blur of brown and grey, the chaos of escalating fury falling into silence.

Interview 3: Lux

“Okay.” The camera shifts, settles, shifts again. Someone breathes heavily from beyond its line of sight. “Okay. It’s safe here. Can you talk? We got away. Can you talk now?”

The camera turns, finally set up securely against some steady surface, to focus on a shaking warlock with a hand pressed to his stomach. Blood seeps between his fingers.

“Ye-eah, I can - th-this is important, you said?”

The interviewer gasps a few more harsh breaths. It sounds like they’ve been running hard, and can only now catch their breath. “Yes. Yes, it’s important. Tell me - tell the story of what, just happened.”

Blue eyes flick up to the camera, then the off-screen interviewer, then back to the camera. “Um. O-okay. I can… I can, talk about it, just, hnn - I-I, what’re you gonna use this for? What can I… is it safe, to t-talk about…? Anything?”

“Lux.”

“Mnh?”

“We already talked about this.”

A shudder runs through him, a wince twisting his features. “Oh. S-sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just that I explained all that, like, twenty minutes ago. Do you have trouble with your memory?”

Tense shoulders tilt inward. “I th-thought, thought you wanted to hear ‘bout, what happened.”

“I do. I also want to hear about you. Why can’t you remember things?”

His breaths, jagged and quick from running, too, don’t even out. “...What happens if I don’t want to talk?”

It’s silent for a moment. He looks like he’s prepared to get hit.

“That would be disappointing. But I’d leave you alone. I don’t interrogate people, I just try to collect their stories. You don’t have to do anything, Lux.”

An uncertain hum slips out of him and he lifts his head from where it fell, his body uncurling from the defensive position it settled into. “Really?”

“Really. Can I ask you something?”

A shoulder scrunches up toward a dirt-streaked cheek in a half-shrug.

“Did you really think I would hurt you, if you didn’t want to talk?”

There’s no audible guilt in the interviewer’s voice, but sadness flickers across the warlock’s face. “Oh, it’s - it’s okay. You didn’t do anything, to, to scare me. I don’t think. It’s just… I’m just like that.”

“Why are you like that?”

The fingers of his free hand twist a loose thread of his ripped sleeve. Lux stares at the floor.

“Lux?”

“Hmm? So-orry. Um. What did you ask?”

“Why are you like that? Why do you get scared? I’ve done a lot of these interviews, and most people are angry, or tired, or sarcastic. Most don’t let it show that they’re scared. You seem very open about it.”

It’s hard to tell, in the poor lighting of the video recorded at the first snatched moment after some escape from danger, but Lux is paling from his wound. He glances down at it, curls hanging. When he looks back up, he blinks, searching for words to answer with. “Um, I… got made that way. I was, I was… do you know who the Hunter is?”

“The Hunter? He made you open? I thought he killed everyone he took. Did he kill someone you knew?”

“Mnh - uh - ye-eah, but - that was just part of it. He-e, he used to kill, everyone. Mostly. Then he… he took me. I was there, he had me, for… for a year.”

“A year? How did you survive a year with the Hunter?”

“He… I don’t know. He just liked me. It was a l-lot, a lot of pain. And… mind magic.”

Lux glances up, as he mentions the taboo magic, and cringes. He must’ve seen a reaction in the interviewer.

“So your time with him wore you down, took way your defenses. He… did that, to you, and now… what is your mind like now?”

Sweat beads across the warlock’s brow. He doesn’t ask for the interview to stop. “It’s, it’s a mess. It’s just all mixed up, and I forget things, and… everything is hard. M-my… my magic, ‘specially, it, it doesn’t like to work anymore.”

“Do you think that was part of his tactics? He kills a lot of magic users, it seems like he’s trying to cripple the community. Did he mix you up so that your magic wouldn’t work, so you wouldn’t be a threat?”

His frown draws lines into his face. “No. He just, he just liked it. Scaring me. Changing me. It’s not about… he doesn’t do it for, like, society. Going after magic users, it’s just because they’re already hurting, no one cares about us. We’re just easy to target. He’s not like the feds.”

“You sound like you know him pretty well.”

Lux takes a breath, holds it, then nods. His head is heavy on his shoulders. “Better tha-an anyone, I guess.”

“Better than Quinn Mae?”

He blinks. “Quinn - you mean, Quinn, who, who let the Hunter take them, to try and… make a difference?”

“Yes. They sacrificed themself to learn about the Hunter. And it seems that they were successful. But do you know more about him than they do, even after that mission?”

Emotion gets Lux fidgeting. “Th-they - they did a good job. I think they probably learned really important stuff. It wasn’t… I don’t think it was a good idea, but I, I’m proud of them, for trying. I just - I was there for so long. I know more than the facts, I know how he feels about stuff. The Hunter loves, loved me, I… was close to him, for a long time. And I, I haven’t been much help, even though I know all that. Just knowing about him doesn’t make him that much easier to take on. It, um - it actually makes him angrier.”

“Angry enough to start torturing his way through every witch and warlock alive?”

“That’s - you’re out of line.” The assertion is quick and anxious. “It’s not Quinn’s fault. It’s no one’s fault. The Hunter likes to hurt people, he likes to punish people for being brave. Quinn did the, the bravest thing in the world, and that - it just, I guess it set him off. But it’s not their fault.”

“Sounds like cause and effect, Lux.”

“No. I - if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine, he - he wanted me back, he wanted to hurt me, and I said no. I said no to him. He’s punishing me.”

“How did you say no? Did he ask? Why didn’t he just take you anyway?”

The trembling has gotten worse in Lux again, and it jars his hand against his wound, adding tension to the way he sits. “He-e, he called me. On my phone. I said no. I said - he could take me, but I wouldn’t make it easy. I wa-as trying to be b-brave. I was - healing. But… but I guess, he’s been frustrated, and, and I… set him off. I don’t know. He’s hurting so many people, and I’m trying to, to find them all, to make sure they don’t die, to help them process it all. I know what it feels like.”

“So you’re trying to help with the spree, on this end, after they get hurt.”

“Ye-eah. Trying.”

“There’s no way you can save them before they get hurt? You can’t stop him?”

The warlock’s brows twitch. “I-I… no. I’ve thought about it. I’ve… I tried to offer myself up, instead. He loves me, I thought maybe he just wanted me to, to break, to take their place… but he doesn’t want me. He said, said maybe some other time. He just wants to… he’s having fun.”

“I see. Alright, Lux. I’m sorry for bringing up a painful topic. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. It’s not your fault. I try not to step in with how I feel, but I wanted to say that. It’s not your fault.”

Lux’s head is dipped down, leaden with guilt. “Yeah, well… you don’t know him like I do.”

[rockybalfeatherboa]

getting these mtl headcanons outta my system

This is a long ass post but these r some random metalocalypse hcs that I feel kinda strongly abt some r real silly ok here it goes 

Aka me projecting

Toki - Enjoys activities like roller skating, weight lifting and boxing (that’s why he’s yknow fucken ripped) - Also enjoys model cars but not nearly as much as his beloved fighter planes - Thick brows - Hair is very thick and smooth (and,,pretty) but he doesn’t put a lot of work into is making the other guys kinda jealous - Sometimes shaves his legs below the knee but that’s it - Does shit like host teen choice awards and guest star on children’s tv shows BUT THEN acts surprised when kids love him,,,tf bitch this is ur fault - Absolutely loves physical affection he fuckin loves hugs and kisses!!!! - Prefers making out and titty groping groupies (and maybe a blowjob) over having sex with them .. but will still do it if he feels like he’s up to it - Kisses with his eyes open (and overall just real fuckin weird ok) - Keeps the video from Juliette sarmangsadandle in his nightstand he treasures it - Mostly writes his own keyboard parts for songs - Band thinks he’s hilarious when he doesn’t try to be but when he tries to tell jokes they don’t work ,, but he’s really funny in Norwegian it’s just the jokes don’t really translate too well so he just,,keeps it to himself - Pickles taught him how to smoke and now they like to chill and smoke together it’s like “their thing” - But he’s really picky about it he only smokes indica - (This is me projecting) Learned the phrase “if u feelin froggy then jump” and never stopped using it

Skwisgaar - shaves e v e r y t h i n g bc of 1) the aesthetics and 2) loves the way it feels - long lovely legs - huge fucken feet - has a klokateer pluck and tweeze his eyebrows them shits be on fleek - cries in secret at least once a day it’s become routine - He kept in touch with his Swedish gf for a while but then fell off and went back to hoeing #hoe4lyfe - Secretly wishes he can go back to wearing all white but he has to maintain brand recognition bc of the band - Wears very slight sweet smelling cologne behind his ears and wherever else cologne goes - Either eats a fuckton or not very much during the day,, keeping his metabolism on her toes - Guitar playing for him is like ultimate stress relief and also he fidgets with it he loves that thing - Has a book of various songs or riffs that he’s written on the guitar that dethklok will never ever use - Wears highlighter - Has run into one of his grown ass children in the bank one time and had to get the fuck out of there immediately,,they didn’t realize it was him tho -  Puts his feet on nathan just to bother him - Great teeth / really conscientious about hygiene - Cold hands and oily skin type - He has a pretty good sense of rhythm but ,, he can’t dance he can’t dance for shit oh my god it’s a disaster to look at - “I look like I can’t cook… that’s accurate” - When he drinks wine he does that thing where he swirls it around like a bougie piece of shit - Lactose intolerant :/ - Talks with his hands a l o t it’s over dramatized and very fascinating to watch - Responds to compliments with “I know”

Murderface - closet gay*   *gay but he grew up in such a homophobic environment so he tries to ignore it and pretty much force himself to be straight, explaining his constant trouble with women (Bc the attraction isn’t genuine ) and his fragile masculinity (so he’s always a “fellas is it gay to-“ or a “no homo” type of guy ),, his self esteem issues don’t help this out at all - big fuckin crush on skwisgaar (and skwis loves the attention) - sleeps with a retainer - hair is so dry,,,,,,please give this man some conditioner oh my god - knows pretty much everything about the civil war and the American revolution literally ask him anything he’s like a textbook - Somebody come get this man a pedicure - He has a lot of fans and they adore him it’s just that he’s oblivious to it,,, ppl love murderface!! - He’s not as ugly as he thinks he is or that people make him out to be, it’s just that people may think that only Bc the rest of Dethklok is so pretty. He kinda just ends up looking the worst by four-way comparison. It’s just a different type of look he has there’s nothing really wrong with his appearance - Imma go head and say it,,,he uses “y’all” - He and toki have actually made some decent songs for planet piss but it’s usually when they’re jamming out so they pretty much never get recorded 🤷🏽‍♀️ or remembered - He can move his dick voluntarily I mean I already knew that people with dicks can do this but murderface has like a whole new level of control with his - Got banned from Fintrolls bc he pissed in the olives but he just keeps coming back bc what are they gonna do? nothing - He takes his weapon/torture device collection very seriously like when u walk into his room u better not touch a damn thing or so help me -

Pickles - has nose piercings but doesn’t wear em - Small ear gauges - Strong toned legs especially shins and calves - Has not had a swig of h20 in 6 years but somehow has nice skin (a mystery) - Loathes Seth but absolutely a d o r e s  the baby!!! He loves that damn baby and always appreciates when Seth or amber send pics or FaceTime call !! Fuckin uncle pickles!! - Helps toki compose his keyboard parts for songs (Bc he too can play the piano) - Kinda flexible but not as he used to be,,he used to be able to do a full split - Likes to bug Charles a lot bc they’re the closest in age , sometimes they hang they’re good buds - Watches shitty reality tv (bad girls club, LHHATL (it has to Atlanta), etc) as a guilty pleasure - Kind of an asshole but in a way that leaves u wanting more - Played basketball freshman year of highschool,, he was ass at it lmao - Idk how much this has to do with being a headcanon but if pickles was a vine he’d be “I said whoever threw that paper, ya moms a hoe” he just carries that energy - Smells like a light combination of weed and cologne it’s really nice - Will tell one of his band mates to go blow their nose if they’re sniffling too much

Nathan - doesn’t like it when people touch his hair without asking but HOWEVER if u ask before u do he’d probably say yes ,, just gotta warn him first damn - Hates hates h a t e s feet it’s like a weird squirmy phobia. He’s ok with his own feet and just *seeing* other peoples feet but let someone’s bare foot touch him and he’d probably black out tbh - Really socially awkward outside of his stage presence but I think we all knew this - Nathan’s really sweet he just ,, u gotta know him - Really emotional when he’s drunk - Secretly cussing out everyone in his head - He doesn’t completely dislike physical affection but he’s not crazy about it either - Also kisses with his eyes open (but unlike toki he’s trying to work on it) - Dad bod but we all knew this too - Slightly introverted ..he likes to party and shit but can only take that much social interaction for so long then it’s time for him to go home - Eyes are so striking and pretty oh my god it’s like they’re shining it’s all his gfs favorite thing about him - ,,,,,,,thicc - He’s one of those people that rip off their hangnails instead of cutting them 😖 - He can throw down on the grill goddamn why isn’t he in charge of snacks? - Knows how to suture a wound with some level of proficiency - He loves his parents he just hates how they embarrass the fuck out of him god leave me alone mom and dad! - This is ironic to the last thing but remember that video where it was like “son let me hear some of your music” “I don’t think you’d like it” “c’mon let me listen” and the song is just “I hate my dad I hate my dad I hate my dad” the whole time yea that was Nathan in high school - Strong arms (b,,beautiful) - As a kid he used to poke at roadkill for uhh entertainment - Used to be self conscious about his reading glasses but doesn’t gaf anymore - Severe case of resting bitch face he’ll literally be chillin but his face will be mean muggin but that’s just the way he looks - Tried PCP and ended up having to be chained to his bed betcha he’ll never smoke that shit again - likes crime investigation shows and serial killer documentaries - Will n e v e r  refuse a fresh hot salted pretzel

[elle-stevens]

The Break Up Blog - Day Thirty Nine

This is getting harder and harder to do every day. 

Don’t get me wrong, keeping a blog about my feeling since breaking up with X has been helpful and even cathartic to an extent. But dredging up every moment in my memory and every feeling that comes with it is exhausting. 

I slept alright save for the hours when I kept waking up and stressing about class. Every Friday, the students now have to write a diary entry in the books that C designed. Simple in theory, right? Except the elementary students at our school seem to genuinely have zero English skills. Or they have the requisite skills, but get completely flustered when they actually have to use it, kinda like me and my ambiguous relationship with Mandarin. 

So I changed the topics for grades 3 and 4 and thought that simplifying their task would help by writing vocabulary on the board. It kinda worked with grade 3 and all the students in my class managed to write a few sentences each. 

But grade 4? 

For 40 minutes, I sincerely thought that I was in a zoo and all the wild animals had gotten loose. One of my autistic students had a very OCD day and wouldn’t stop shouting out ‘The bus isn’t here!’ in Korean, too many of my boys were queuing up in front of the classroom computer to use the online dictionary. And of course, SB had a dumb fight with with another student, E, and legit walked out of my class and slammed the door on top of it. 

I’d love to say that the latter pissed me off simply because SB was in the middle of it. But he’s actually been relatively well-behaved in class in the last two weeks, almost like he’s had a lobotomy. And honestly, by the time he pulled that crap on me, I was too exhausted and dumb-founded to take offence. Now that I’m thinking on it now, I definitely need to tell SH about what happened in class. I hate to bother her about it because she already has to deal with this nonsense as their homeroom teacher, but I’ve just had it with the total disregard for my authority in class. 

I was forced to sit in the grade 6 homeroom and wait for them even though I knew they wouldn’t make it for class while having their school event during the day. I don’t get why the homeroom teachers force the foreign teachers to hang about like chumps during school events in the unlikelihood that the event will finish early and we’ll be able to pick up the slack with the dregs of the class period? It’s starting to feel like I went back to university two years ago and got a teaching certificate for nothing. I’m just an over-glorified babysitter at this point in my life and it sucks. 

N came to find me while I kept the grade 6 classroom warm (or chilled in this case because the afternoon was hot af). She wanted to have her ‘official’ conversation with me about renewing my contract at the school. I did change things up a bit when N mentioned tried to persuade me to consider applying for a teaching position in the high school department of our school. I initially wanted to do that months ago, but ML was pretty adamant that I was unable to change the terms of my contract since my school only hires high school teachers in the second semester and my contract ends in February next year. Never mind the fact that I initially interviewed for a high school position at my school before coming to my city, but got recruited into the elementary department at the last second when one of the teachers broke his contract in the middle of the school year. But who really cares about minor details like that? 

I told N I’d keep an open mind about it if she could swing things for me to work teach high school instead. I stopped considering it before when I thought that ML would stay in the managerial position for another year. But C told me that ML’s going back to Korea next year, so working under a new manager might actually be better. H might get pissed off at me for switching departments though; she’d probably take it as a personal affront to her management style. It is in part because of that, but honestly, I’m just done in general with this school. It’s too much bullshit layered with bullshit at every turn. 

After my meeting with N, I went back to my office, only for H to talk to me about a punishment I gave my fifth graders two days when they wouldn’t shut up in class. Instead of disciplining the students in my own way, H suggested that I turn the classroom in a democracy and let the students decide on their own punishments and rewards in the near future. It’s a great idea in theory, but now that I think about it, it’s basically an FU to the teacher. As it turns out, I’m pretty much irrelevant in my own classroom. 

And people actually wonder why teachers want to leave this school...

I saw N and ML talking out of the corner of my eye while H talked to me. I guess N gave ML the ‘good news’ about me wanting to leave. I could care less at this point. H’s eyes looked strangely red-rimmed during our talk, like she was seconds away from crying. I wonder if she heard about my news already? Who knows and honestly, who cares at this point? 

I’m over it. 

Still, I sat with CI at lunch and we had a good talk about our different classroom woes. He’s become a really good work buddy, I’m glad that C picked him out from a sea of what was probably a lot of crap teachers. Even talking to N about some of my minor grievances helped too. I even found time during the day to perform surgery on a clay doll one of my third grade girls made that had its leg and sword hilt (I don’t know what kids are into these days, lol) ripped off by her classmate. I went home to get my glue gun because the departmental ones are suddenly missing and I sutured the old sport’s injuries. Then I left said doll in the third grade homeroom, I hope my little chica finds it there. 

All of this dumb shit that happened - It’s ok really when I think about it. Now I know that I’m done with being treated this way. Good luck to my school principal with finding teachers that are half as competent and caring as C, me and even CI, even though he’s staying another year. 

After all the fuckery at work and the number that X pulled on me, I’m done with people taking me for a James Blunt in my professional and personal capacities.

‘James Blunt’ in this case is British rhyming slang. Do yourself a favour and look it up, it’ll give you a good laugh. 

I may look like a ‘James Blunt’, I may even act like a ‘James Blunt’ when I’m taking the piss. But don’t get it twisted: I am not a fucking James Blunt by any stretch of the imagination.  You can’t fuck with me and expect me to treat you the same way ever again. 

It only needs to happen once. And after that, I’m done with you. I may smile at you and even help you with things from time to time. But I will never open myself up to you again. 

That’s what happened to X in the end and I can see how it will happen with some of my current colleagues as the months progress. I thought it was kind of C watching C and H’s friendship turn to shit in real time when H became our manager. But I get how it happened: when you get a little of anything good, it makes you selfish and you end up turning on the people around you. 

I did that when I dated X. She became the centre of my universe and I lost track of everything and everyone. I even had a huge fight with P and G because of X when I used too much bandwidth from the family router to video call X every day for a year. 

That was a really bad fight and the way my siblings looked at me while it happened still haunts me. It’s like they saw me, but an uglier version, and they didn’t like it one bit. 

I shudder when I think of that memory, especially when it was all for nothing with X. I nearly lost my relationship with my brother and sister over X. And what the fuck was even the point of it all? 

I don’t ever want to be that way again the next time I fall in love. I want to go into the whole affair with my eyes completely open. 

There were some positives at work. Besides having some good heart-to-hearts, my colleagues really liked the coconut tarts I baked for them. Even if they were just blowing smoke up my ass, it felt good to hear the compliments and know that I’m not sucking at this too. 

I’m feeling really tired today, so I hope I have enough energy to exercise in a little while. I ordered dinner from a chicken restaurant below my apartment complex, I’ll cook something tomorrow. Since R wants me to charge me an arm and a leg for a physiotherapy consultation, I made an appointment at a local clinic tomorrow instead so a doctor can look at my right arm that keeps twinging whenever I move it. I hope someone speaks English there, I’m tired of floundering about like a beached whale with zero Chinese speaking skills. 

My sinuses are still pestering me, but not as bad as before. I still have to check through my student diaries this weekend and mark and correct them. That’s a problem that can wait till tomorrow after I’ve had a good night’s sleep. D’s birthday gift finally arrived, I also have to figure out when I can drop it off at her apartment. 

I just want to rest this weekend and not think about anything. After Sunday, I’ll be done with my current workout programme; I might switch to something simpler like swimming after this. 

I’m just done. 

My body and brain need a proper rest. 

I might stop writing these blog entries after Sunday is over, I’ll see how I feel. Right now, I don’t want to think and just drift off deeper into myself.