#I've been to the doctor multiple times about it and even went to the emergency room once

[onewordshy]

I don't usually like to complain but literally like, it sucks having to justify how much pain I'm in to everyone, and that includes myself. I just genuinely do not believe that I am justified to physical pain, and even when I'm actively in pain I'm telling myself "you're making it up." I never thought about it until one time I had a toothache so bad that I physically collapsed on the stairs crying and couldn't see but when I went to the dentist afterwards I told him that maybe it wasn't that bad and I was just making it up and he was like "if what you're saying happened to you happened, why would you think that?" And honestly I still don't have an answer.

And I'm so mad that I was taught to think this way! Because I know the answer is that nobody took me seriously as a kid and just pushed me to keep going even when I was suffering and now it's an ingrained behavior! Like I used to avoid going to the doctor because every time I would work up the courage to go to ask about something that was bothering me, I'd just get shot down and made to feel like an idiot for asking. I'll never forget the time I told my doctor I was suffering from pressure in my skull and headaches and he just looked at me and said "and what do you want to do about it?" Like, that fucked me up! Because I was scared and in pain and went to you for help and you made me feel like shit for it! And then you got to move on with your day and I just had to pretend like everything was fine! I cracked my ribs with a metal cannister and felt them poking me in the lungs when I bent over and I still went in to work!

But yeah I've had some sort of issue with my throat for the past few months that's made it hard for me to breathe, causes shooting pains down my neck/ears, and I can barely talk. I can't sing anymore, which sucks, and I feel so fucking selfish for feeling bad about that for some reason but like that's always been a major part of my life and now I just like. Can't do it. And it feels like it's been such a battle to get anyone to realize just how big of a deal all of this is for me but because I can still walk and function everyone just expects me to be okay and no one seems to get that it's completely destroyed my life and I don't know what I'm gonna do if I don't get help for it soon.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knows there's only one way to contend with what Carl did, and he will gladly do it for you. All he wants is his house, his kid and his girl. You on the other hand don't know quite how to deal with anything that's going on, because it all seems out of your control. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, fighting, blood, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You were so anxious for your first day of work, you actually woke up way too early and spilled blazing hot coffee all over your scrubs, forcing you to make a detour back to the bedroom to get changed. All you seemed to be able to think about was that video. That goddamn video. You wished you never looked in that box in the attic.

Once again, you were on the verge of tears as you pulled on a clean top and went to wake Noah up for the day. Everything felt like too much right now unless he was with you. The fact that you were as dependent on Noah as he was on you was probably nothing to brag about, but he really lit up every time you read to him or made him food. And you felt much better inside when he was snuggled up with you or holding your hand. 

You felt like his mom. You felt like you belonged here with him. He trusted you to take care of him, and you always would. But your confidence where Bradley was concerned felt stunted now, and you couldn't even talk to him about it. If you were even strong enough to bring it up at all. 

Noah climbed out of bed and went right to you for a hug, never questioning if he was welcome with you. "Morning, sweet Noah," you whispered against his soft hair. "Did you have happy dreams?"

He yawned and said, "Yeah. I was a pink dinosaur, and all of the other dinosaurs were afraid of me. So I got to eat all the Skittles."

"Wow," you said with a laugh as you carried him into the kitchen for breakfast. "That's the best dream I've ever heard of."

"Yeah, I know." 

He ate some eggs while you successfully drank your coffee and vanilla creamer without spilling it this time. And when you dropped him off at daycare, the same girl was working at the front desk.

"Hi, Noah," she said sweetly before handing you the clipboard to sign with a bland expression. You kissed Noah on the cheek and watched him walk in with the other kids before you signed your name. "And will you be picking him up again today, or should we be expecting another babysitter?"

You froze, and a startled laugh escaped your lips. "I'll be picking him up. And I'm the only babysitter." She appraised you again, so you added, "Only the best for Lieutenant Bradshaw and his son," before you spun on your heel and strolled out to the parking lot. 

You were driving the Bronco. You were in charge of Noah. Bradley was acting like some sort of sugar daddy boyfriend with the credit card you had tucked in your wallet. You shouldn't have been feeling insecure at all. You tried not to think about anything except getting to work on time for your first day. 

And being out of the house did help. You met all of the doctors and other nurses, and some of them were your age. Dr. Kelly treated you to lunch, and you got to chat with her a bit. You learned you'd get to assist with a few special needs kids later in the week. It was exciting. You had your own tiny workspace. Being there occupied your mind. 

But when you were asked to fill out a small stack of new hire paperwork in the afternoon, your pen stopped on the page multiple times. You hesitated twice before you eventually wrote Bradley's address as your own. You wrote his name and phone number down as your emergency contact, but you felt ridiculous writing 'boyfriend' where it asked for your relationship to him. After a brief debate, you wrote it anyway and moved on. And a beneficiary for your life insurance? Well, you didn't really have anyone else, so you put Noah. 

And then when you handed everything back in, you felt kind of like you were pretending to be an adult. 

----------------------------

Bradley waited on his bunk for Carl to return. It was getting late, and he wondered where the fuck he was. Without completely dismantling the tiny room, Bradley had searched through as much of Carl's shit as he could. And that was after confirming that he was only missing the one polaroid that you sent with him. 

His ears were ringing. Fingers twitching. He was absolutely repulsed by the thought of anyone else looking at that picture. But especially Carl. That was a line you just didn't cross with a bunkmate. Bradley had seen some wild shit in his days, walked in on some things he wished he could unsee. But you simply did not mess with personal items. And you certainly didn't take anything under any circumstances without permission. And if it was anything pertaining to a wife, girlfriend or significant other, it was absolutely forbidden. 

And if you broke any of these unwritten rules, well... you should know what you were in for. 

When Bradley heard a key in the door close to midnight, his hands automatically curled into fists. Your pretty face popped into his mind, smiling up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. Even though you weren't here, you deserved to be defended right now. He'd protect you and Noah until he used up his dying breath. And that just meant things weren't looking too hot for Carl at the moment. 

The other man strolled in wearing his gym clothes, and it struck Bradley that Carl was probably a little older than he was. He was in good shape, too, but that wouldn't stop Bradley from beating the absolute shit out of him if necessary. 

"What's up, Carl?" he asked, remaining seated with his fists planted on either side of him on the bed. When Carl seemed barely able to meet his eyes, Bradley knew for sure.

"Hey," he replied awkwardly. "Just wanted to hit the gym when it was empty."

Bradley just watched him for a few seconds, silently demanding eye contact. When Carl finally stopped bumbling around and met his eyes, Bradley slowly stood. "Where is it?"

Carl's eyes flashed with panic as Bradley rolled his shoulders and took a step closer in the already limited space. "What? What are you talking about?" He tried to back away, but there was really nowhere to go. 

"If you make me ask again, it's going to be a lot worse for you, man."

"I... I..." Carl's eyes followed Bradley's left hand as he loosened his fist. And then Bradley slammed him back against the door. 

"You know better," Bradley growled. "This isn't your first deployment. You know the rules. And it belongs to me. Where. Is. It?"

"The photo?" Carl whispered as Bradley pressed the heel of his hand against his sternum with even more pressure. 

Bradley raised his voice. "Where the hell is it? It better have never left this fucking room."

"I have it!" Carl swore, and Bradley released him.

"Get it," Bradley said as calmly as he could, but his voice was shaking. He watched Carl dig around in his bedding, procuring the photo of you and your perfect tits and your barely concealed pussy. Bradley had a flashback to Noah's birthday party when Jake kissed you. Then he pictured you at the fraternity house, drunk and helpless. Carl was about to pay a pretty large price. 

"Here," he grunted, extending the polaroid out to Bradley. Once he set it down on top of his dresser, making sure the photo was still perfect, he turned back to Carl and sucker punched him right on the nose. 

Blood was gushing onto his gym shirt as Bradley said, "That's fucked up, Carl. You had my photo in your bed."

He was holding his nose, looking at Bradley with guilty eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"That's my girl, you piece of shit." Bradley was seething as he rammed Carl back up against the door. 

"She's your girl?" he asked, trying to stop the bleeding with both hands now. "She looks barely legal. How old is she?"

Bradley released him and took a step back before he did more damage than he intended to. "Do you really think it's a good idea to ask me that, Carl? You probably jerked it to my girlfriend after you stole my photo, and now you're asking me how old she is?" He was panting, letting the rage flow through him, and then both hands curled into fists again.

"Shit, I didn't- I wasn't-"

"You're not very bright, are you?" Bradley asked, cutting him off. "I'll let you walk out of this room with your face mostly intact as long as you guarantee that you'll wear your bruises around this carrier without even so much as looking in my direction. And don't you dare visit the infirmary. Your indiscretion doesn't blow back on me. You got it?"

Carl looked resigned as he lowered his hands from his face and nodded. "Yeah. I got it."

Then Bradley landed one more punch, hard as hell, and Carl staggered around the room for a few seconds before he managed to take himself out into the hallway and toward the bathroom. Bradley carefully picked up his polaroid, and his heart ached. He was yours, and he'd have done anything to see your beautiful face in person right now.

And if Carl didn't so much as speak to him or look at him again for the rest of the deployment, it would be just fine with Bradley.

-------------------------

You always felt like you were rushing around. When you got out of work an hour early one Wednesday, you decided to use the time to go grocery shopping before you picked up Noah. It was easier to get just the necessities this way. The downside was that you were definitely getting lost in your own thoughts as you stood in the produce area selecting apples. 

It was almost a relief that Bradley hadn't contacted you yet. If you had to look him in the eye right now, you weren't sure you could do it without crying. That USB drive was currently on top of the refrigerator where you couldn't see it, but it was still enough to upset you when you thought about it. But at the same time, you missed your boyfriend and wanted him to come home, and you knew Noah would benefit from talking to him.

You wasted so much time looking at fucking apples that you were going to be late if you didn't get going. You winced as you used the purple princess credit card to pay for the food, and then you organized everything in the back of the Bronco. You loved driving it and briefly wondered if he'd still let you after he got home. 

You pulled into the gas station that was just a few blocks from Noah's daycare, once again using Bradley's credit card. You sighed as you inserted the card for payment and then started to fill the tank. And then you looked up toward the next row of pumps, and you were sure you knew that BMW. A second later, you met Meredith's gaze, and a chill went through your body.

You were afraid your voice was going to shake, but you called out, "You're not supposed to come near me."

She laughed maliciously. "This is a gas station, and I was here first. So maybe you should stay away from me."

"With pleasure," you snarled. You had to close your eyes against the sick feeling that rose inside you. Naked. You could picture her naked. Bradley used to love her. 

"You already ruined my life," Meredith snapped. "So your little restraining order stunt really doesn't matter to me." Then she was climbing into her car, and you watched her peel out of the parking lot and into traffic, heading in the opposite direction from Noah's daycare. 

Your hands were unsteady as you finished up at the gas pump. She was right; she had been at the gas station first. She was with Bradley first. She was Noah's mom before you ever came into the picture as his babysitter. She was everywhere, and she wouldn't go away.

----------------------

Bradley emailed you days ago to let you know he would be able to FaceTime with you and Noah tonight, but you'd only written back, "Sounds good." You didn't give him any updates. You didn't call him Daddy. You didn't say anything else. 

Sounds good.

He grunted as he worked out in the gym. The sooner he could get this deployment completed and get home, the better. Carl's face was starting to look better now, but Bradley smiled every time he saw the bruises. He had no idea what excuse the other man had given for looking like a raccoon with two black eyes and a bent nose, and he didn't really fucking care. If anyone assumed he was the one who caused the bruising, they probably also assumed it was warranted. 

Those polaroids were wrapped up and put away now. But Bradley wanted the real thing. Your body and your voice. He'd been thinking about how insufficient it felt to call you his girlfriend. Just the same way you'd always felt like more than Noah's babysitter to them. But now with your lack of a real response, Bradley felt a little foolish for thinking about proposing to you. 

When it was time to make the call home, he sighed deeply. And when you answered your phone on the living room couch, your expression was hesitant. 

"Princess," he rasped, holding the iPad with both hands. "Baby. I miss you."

It felt like an eternity before you responded. "We miss you, too." 

He had so much he wanted to say and talk about, but your voice was just a little too soft, and your eyes were just a little too sad. "What's wrong?" he asked, but you were already shaking your head.

"Here. Talk to Noah." And then you were out of the frame, and Noah was there. Bradley laughed as he talked about daycare and making something called peanut butter snails and going for hikes. He held up some of the coloring sheets he had worked on, and Bradley noted that you had dated all of them. You always did little things like that. Now he'd be able to see which days his son worked on the coloring sheets when he got home. 

"I miss you so much, bub."

"Will you come home soon?" Noah asked, and Bradley's heart absolutely melted. 

"Really soon. And we can go to the beach and maybe take a little vacation, okay? Now can you sit with Princess so I can talk to her, too?"

And then you were immediately back in the frame and scooping Noah onto your lap. So you must have been standing right there the whole time. 

"That's better," Bradley sighed. His house, his kid, his girl. "You have no idea how much I wish I was on that couch with you." 

You smiled softly. "Do you know when you'll be back?"

"I'm not sure, Baby. Not soon enough. Tell me about work."

So you indulged him in a few stories, and it sounded like you fit in there. You liked your coworkers, especially Dr. Kelly. You loved all the kids you got to talk to and care for all day. But you still seemed a little distant.

"Are you sleeping okay?" he asked. "Any issues?"

You pressed a kiss to Noah's cheek and said, "We just miss you. That's all."

"We want you to come home," Noah whined. 

"Please?" you added softly. 

"So soon," he reiterated, wishing he could give you both a kiss. "Watch for my emails?"

"I will," you promised. 

"I love you. Both of you."

Then you and Noah said in unison, "I love you, too." And then he had to end the call.

------------------------

Well it was done now. You were on your way to get the last few things from your place with Noah before you turned your key over to your landlord. Or former landlord. You were done paying rent here, and now you could start helping Bradley pay his mortgage. In fact, he would be home in a few days, and you'd talk to him about it then. There were actually a lot of things you wanted to have a conversation about.

"Do you remember when you came here for dinner? And I made you spaghetti in my little kitchen?"

"That was a long time ago," Noah insisted, and you held his hand as you walked up the sidewalk. "You live at my house now."

"Yep," you replied softly as you let go of his hand and dug around in your bag for the key you hardly ever used now. "Let's just hope that makes your Daddy happy and not annoyed since I never really gave him a verbal answer," you mumbled, finally locating the key. 

As you shoved it into the lock, Noah knelt down and picked something up from the porch. "What's this?" he asked, reaching his hand up to you.

Your eyes went wide. "Drop it," you said right away, and he let the piece of broken glass fall back to the porch. But there was more. Both of you were standing in it, and when you reached to turn the knob, there must have been a shard there.

"Shit," you gasped as your right palm started bleeding. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you kicked the door fully open. One of the panes of glass in the door had been smashed, and there was more of the mess on the floor inside. "Don't touch anything," you hissed, and Noah started crying. 

You kept him close enough to take a few pictures as soon as you were able to fumble with your phone. You took seven photos of all the glass plus the item that had been left. For you. It was just a dollar store coloring book, but there was a note on top of it written in crayon. Have fun playing house.

It had to have been from Meredith. Who else could have done it? She was already claiming you ruined her life. And ever since you saw her at the gas station, you were nervous that wasn't the last of her.

Blood was starting to pool a little bit in your upturned palm, and there wasn't much you could do at the moment except for ruin your shirt. "Let's get out of here," you whispered, and the two of you walked back across the porch, the glass crunching beneath your feet. 

You were able to buckle Noah with one hand, but even when you got back to Bradley's house, you were still bleeding. And the glass needed to be removed. So you finally caved and called Natasha. 

"I kind of need your help," you told her vaguely over the phone.

She laughed in response. "I kind of need a lot of things. What can I do for you?"

"Can you come by and help me remove a piece of glass from my dominant hand?"

"Fuck. Of course. I'm on my way," she replied, all tones of joking  gone. 

She was there in less than fifteen minutes, and she washed her hands right away. Then she used the sterilized tweezers that you handed to her to carefully remove the glass. "Just the one piece?" she asked, meeting your eyes. 

"I think so. I already checked Noah really thoroughly."

Nat's expression darkened. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

You were pressing some gauze against your palm now. You might need stitches. You would probably benefit from getting stitches. But you couldn't do them yourself with your left hand, and you didn't want to leave Noah right now. Not even with Nat. He was watching a Mickey Mouse cartoon on the couch, and you didn't want him further away from you than that. 

"It was just some broken glass," you replied. 

"Here?" she asked, looking around the kitchen.

"No. At my old place. It's fine. I just need to tell my landlord about it, and I'll replace it." You were amazed how easily you were able to keep your voice steady. 

"Right," Nat replied with an unamused look. "Bradley will be home in a couple days? Do you want me to stay here until he's back?"

"Of course not. We're fine," you insisted, averting your gaze.

She stood to leave and sighed deeply. "Please call me back if you need anything, okay? And do us both a favor and don't lie to Bradley when you pick him up."

You pressed your lips together and nodded. "I won't," you said softly. And after she left, you took Noah into bed with you and snuggled him tight. 

---------------------

I hate Carl. I hate Meredith. I want Daddy to come home. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 32

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

[sabo-has-my-heart]

I have been following you for a long time, actually, you are the first person I followed here and I saw that you have emergency requests. I was wondering if you had time to write one for me. So here's the story, the last few years have been more than a mess for me. I've been pretty methodically screwed for the past 4 years. Because things in my country are very complicated and very rough… I haven't had a single normal school year since the year I was in elementary school. First, it was Corona for a year and a half, then there were a lot of missiles, then there was the whole issue of laws and trials and now there is a war… Of course, in the background, there is a hurricane of political problems and next year the war will probably continue plus there will be many problems with the teacher's strikes… and all this is simply אoo much for me, I'm only in high school… I assume that you probably already know what country I'm from… but please let's put all the politicians aside, please… the things you write helped me get through all of this. So if you can, can you write to me about a reader (female) from One Piece or Demon Slayer who went through a very difficult time and all she wants is a few moments of quiet. Just a month or a year or week without fighting or weird things. just a normal life iven if it only for a littel bit. with a happy ending. Sorry for all the truma damping and thank you very much.

(I hope all this is understandable, English is not my first language and I wrote it in Google Translate)

Hi there! I'm the first person you followed? That... that makes me want to do a happy wiggle, I'm going to go do a quick happy wiggle.......... okay, I'm back from my happy wiggle. Things sound very rough over there, but I actually don't know where you're from. I don't watch or keep up with the news. I know there's the stuff with Palestine, Ukraine, and Trump was found guilty, but that's it. Before any of you get mad at me for not keeping up with the world, please know that I do this for my own well being. If I kept up with the news, it would shoot my anxiety and depression through the roof and I just really don't need that. As much as I care about human life and others, I need to focus on my own health and well-being too. I'm happy that my writing has been helping you get through it all, it's always flattering to know that my writing has helped someone and don't worry about trauma dumping, if it helps, I'm always happy to lend an ear. So this is an Ace fic, so I hope you enjoy it and I hope it makes you feel better. My best wishes on getting through this!

Word Count: 1170

Warnings: Female!Reader, comfort

     Why had things been so chaotic lately? It seemed as if every time you turned around there was some new thing going on, some new problem or some new drama. It might be fine if it were just one thing, if it was just Thatch chasing Ace through the halls for raiding the fridge or just a few attacks or storms hitting the Moby Dick. Who in their right mind attacked the strongest man alive anyway? But it wasn’t just one or two things. Yesterday it had been Marco roping you into helping him get the crew into their yearly physicals. Last week had seen a severe storm that had threatened even the Moby Dick, calling for all hands on deck. The week before that was an attack by an entire fleet of marines. Before that there had been multiple attacks on islands under Whitebeard’s protection. Okay, sure, you weren’t the only one taking care of things. The different commanders all split up, 5 of them taking their respective divisions to check out the islands, with you joining the second division as a temporary ‘doctor’ in case anyone was injured. During the storm, you’d been mostly taking care of things below deck with the other Whitebeard nurses, making sure cabinets were securely tied shut, glass bottles of medicine safely packed away, and anything on wheels kept from rolling everywhere. That wasn’t the point, however. The point was that you were tired of something new and stressful always cropping up!

     Honestly, was it really so much to ask for some peace and quiet? A moment of respite where you could just relax without worrying about the next thing. Okay, sure, you’d had a few days here and there where things hadn’t gone wrong. Nothing bad had happened and life aboard the Moby Dick was quiet, or at least, as quiet as things got on a ship with 1,600 males. However, with how things had been lately, you hadn’t been able to relax once. Always on edge, always expecting the next thing to crop up. How long had it been since things had been quiet on the Moby Dick? How long since you’d had a true moment of rest? Hell, you hadn’t even had time to simply relax with Ace. Just the two of you, laying on the deck, napping under the warm sun; or curled up under a warm blanket, forgotten mugs of hot cocoa having long since gone cold as you slept, leaning against each other. Okay, yes, the two of you were often caught simply napping together, but was that really such a bad thing? It meant things were calm, that you could afford to relax enough to take a nap, that you could sleep. Sleep had been… difficult lately. Tossing and turning as the anxiety of what would happen next ate away at you, waking up in the middle of the night at very little bump and thunk, expecting the worst. Ace had been trying to help as best as he could. Wrapping you up in your favorite blanket, heating himself and the blanket up to the perfect, soothing temperature, lightly humming songs that he didn’t even remember learning, though he’d deny humming if you ever asked about it. Thatch had made you mugs of tea or cocoa, Marco had given you sleeping pills, but none of it helped enough.

     Looking out over the railing, you sighed. There weren’t storm clouds on the horizon, no marine ships for miles, and nobody causing any particular chaos, but you still felt on edge. Feeling a hand on your shoulder nearly made you jump out of your skin, spinning around to find a familiar freckled face smiling at you.

     “Calm down, it’s just me. I came to check on you, you’ve been staring out at the ocean for a while now.” Ace said, standing next to you, leaning with his back against the railing.

     “Oh… Sorry. I guess I’m just on edge is all. There’s… been a lot happening lately and I just can’t seem to relax.” you admitted, sighing as you let your shoulders sag, the tension ebbing away for the moment. Ace nodded in understanding, looking up at the sky.

     “Yeah. It’s been pretty busy lately. I can’t remember the last time we took a nap together. But I mean, it’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before. We kind of signed up for this when we became pirates. Or… well, when you became one of Pops’ nurses. Besides, it’ll be fine, we’ll manage. As long as we’re both alive and together, we’ve got this.” Ace smiled at you as he tried to comfort you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

     “I… I know, I just… I guess I just… I wish it would stop, you know? I don’t need much, just a month, hell I’d settle for a week, of peace and quiet. No attacks, no storms, no running from an angry Thatch, or Pops telling me I can’t fight off marines because I’m ‘not a Whitebeard Pirate’... stupid no women rule. He has nurses, why can’t I be an official Whitebeard pirate?!” you grumbled, resting your arms on the railing and resting your head on your arms.

     “Hey, it’s alright. It’s not all that cool being a Whitebeard pirate anyway. You always have a huge target on your back and you have to listen to Marco whenever he tells you to do something, it’s probably way better that you’re not." Okay, he didn’t actually believe that. He loved being a Whitebeard pirate, but he was trying to make you feel better. “If it makes you feel better, I can take you on a vacation or something. We’ll talk to Pops and we can find a nice, peaceful little island where all we do is nap, eat, and mess around.” you smiled at Ace’s proposition, thinking about it for a moment. It would be nice after everything that had happened. A little vacation on a warm, peaceful island. Somewhere small enough that a marine presence wouldn’t be necessary, lots of trees to nap under, a warm beach with soothing waves, staring up at the stars as you drifted off to a good night's sleep.

     “Yeah… that sounds nice. Once we get the chance, we should talk to the captain.” you said softly, feeling yourself relax ever so slightly, not noticing the huge grin on Ace’s face.

     “No need! Marco’s been harassing me about taking some time off after what happened at Marineford and no one will mind if you’re gone for a little while. Pops has plenty of other nurses. We’ll pack some shit and tell Marco that I’m finally taking that time off. Let’s go!” Ace pushed himself off the railing, holding a hand out to you, making you smile.

     “Yeah, let’s go.” you took the young man’s hand, letting him pull you down the halls of the Moby Dick to pack some things. A little time off, that’s all you needed, all you both needed.

[sincelastsession]

I almost aired all this out over Facebook so i decided to justpost it here instead.

--------

I'm being harassed almost daily by my neighbor.

My things were vandalized while I was home but since I don't have a picture of it on camera happening the apartment complex won't do anything. And it happened twice. And they have their fucking ring doorbell down on the ground pointed at my apartment. And they will not leave me alone including the children who shout things at me. And the office keeps telling me it's hearsay.

But my other neighbors would never do any of this And these people and the other new people that have just moved in are trashy as hell and the entire complex is just not safe anymore. How was walking from getting my mail and the woman told me that she was going to hurt me and that I was as stupid fat bitch because she thought I was reporting her for noise complaint again and the fact that she lets her children run around completely unattended and they have fucked with my things. And they know that I can't do anything about it.

And I've been looking at fucking cameras and I don't know anything about fucking security cameras and I'm trying so hard to just find one and pick it out and buy it.

I have done everything that I could possibly do about that. I even went over that with my therapist and he has no clue what else can be done other than "move". I cannot continue to walk around my own home with noise-canceling headphones to block out the insanely loud bullshit.

I've been trying to move for quite a while now. I've had 3 different doctors tell my parents that they needed to move me as soon as possible. I was given various dates of when I would get to move and different places did that I was going to get to move to. I was just recently told never mind And that I will not be moving at all. I cannot trust anything that they say because they lie and they say one thing and then they say the other.

And I've been in therapy and have goals for therapy and I cannot reach any of the goals coming up in therapy with the environment I'm living in it's not good for me and there's nothing that I can do about it. So basically I'm just wasting therapy appointments. I was just trying to move to a peaceful spot, decompress and unpack and the go hard in therapy to reach a goal to become financially independent away from them all.

Dad has me blocked and is "done" with me because he won't acknowledge what he and my sister did to me in January was WRONG. I sustained tissue damage in my neck. I still have a year to report it but I was threatened multiple times.

My executive dysfunction is completely fucking out of control. I'm in autistic burnout and having a PTSD flare from hell. But according to my father I'm just full of shit and my doctors are all wrong and he's right.

I just had to take my ESA cat June to the vet. She's not doing well. I have to give her meds twice a day.

I can't have kids. My cats are the closest thing that I will ever have to children. So it was awesome to hear from both of my parents that they didn't Care about my fucking cat when I tried to let them Know what was going on.

And they talk so much shit to my aunts and uncles and I can't get any just verbal support from them. I just told not to contact them unless it's an emergency. They have absolutely no fucking clue about what my life is actually like or who I am as a person. Just nasty assumptions.

They don't realize that I'm struggling so hard to get away from these people and their cyclical bullshit. I really need the support and they don't care. They have no idea how much I have been used and have been abused my entire life. They don't care to know.

I mean I'm almost 38 this is fucking embarrassing.

No one has to live with this but me so it'd be great if everyone would shut the fuck up about how they don't like hearing about my life or how much of a pain it is to talk with me because they won't educate themselves on shit.

Trying to get an autistic person to act allistic imo is like trying to tell someone they aren't actually gay. Which yeah I also get criticism about like it's a phase. I'm almost 38 it's not a fuck phase jfc.

I didn't ask to be born in such a dysfunctional family I did not ask for all the horrible horrible traumatic things that happened to me to happen.

And I'm sure lots of people have it much much worse but holy fuck

I mean I'm having to wear a fucking heart monitor because I probably have a heart condition that has been aggravated by all the stress I've been under.

And now I have just found out that my sister and her fiance broke it off and somehow this is my fault even though I had no idea what was going on.

I have spoken to her ONCE in the past 6 months and I told her now ex fiancé "Good Luck" as he went into training recently for the marines.

To top it all off my sister fucking hates me because I showed my mom a photoshoot she did and my mother goddamn slut shamed her clothes. It's not like they had her in dance wearing next to nothing for years before she was an adult. And yes I tore into my mother because the amount of clothing doesn't matter. I was fucking raped at a party as a teen with an adult around and I was not wearing "skimpy clothes".

I don't know what to do I just want to fucking scream and scream and scream

And I can't even scream in my own apartment because then the neighbors will have a reason to fall a noise complaint against me because they're that petty

I'm about to fucking start smoking cigarettes again.

Fuck this

[zsuuv139]

rare original content time! and its gonna be me venting

cw: weight "management", weight loss and gain, gynecological issues, doctors, the rona

so either this story starts in my childhood: i've always been a fat girl and have recently discovered that it was basically eating for attention, positive or negative, since i also was a glass child.

or this story starts 3 years ago, with the pandemic. where i gained even more weight. but i also met this guy and he and another friend somewhat motivated me to lose a lot of weight (that i was really happy with and i felt better in my body, happier overall due to exercise). and then last february (2022) not only did i hook up with a guy, i also got myself a nice little BV out of it. and ofc the rona. after the rona cleared up, i went to a gyno who also did an ultrasound and found a cyst. i felt my life implode - i had only heard bad stuff about ovarian cysts.

they told me to not do intense workouts and put me on hormonal birth control. i could barely stand on my 2 legs. and i was depressed as hell. gained a lot of it back. got off the birth control because suddenly the cyst was not on my ovary anymore but somehow adjacent to it and hormones dont help anymore. still couldn't work out.

am also supposed to get an mri that either has a 6 month waitlist or a 100+ usd cost - my monthly pay is about 1k usd so i kinda cant afford it.

i recently took steps toward getting the mri - another gyno visit. now i also have a polycystic ovary (just one of the 2. hormone levels still ok - not pcos).

im also currently getting fired/ laid off and at the time of that appointment, i had just found out and was already exhausted because of multiple failed applications. i was certain that the layoff would happen and was looking and interviewing but got no offers.

when i tried to explain my health situation to my doctor, i ended up crying. she was patient, gave me some paper towels to wipe my face and explained how the procedures were gonna go. i liked the experience overall.

i also gained all the weight i had lost back.

docs want to investigate possible insulin resistance - i got my blood drawn and since then i have a bruise where i was stuck. this has not happened ever before, and i did used to get blood tests for a thyroid issue. im now wondering if this is bc im fat.

went to an endocrinologist - thyroid levels not optimal, and potential insulin resistance that i was hoping they could advise me on.

she calls my name. "how's it going with the weight loss?" i remark that not well.

"do you have endometriosis?"

"im not sure. afaik it needs surgery to be diagnosed and i havent had any surgery in that area. but my periods do hurt like hell and get kinda plentiful, so it wouldnt be a shock."

first few questions go normal, i know my meds, doses, diagnoses. she starts talking about weight loss. i just take it in an "ok im not coming back to her" way. then she starts asking about the cyst. i tell her what i know. she asks "but what does the mri say?" "dunno, they have a 6 month waitlist" "and youre not willing to pay for an emergency?"

now, in her pov, this random fat woman starts crying.

in my pov, all my job hunt stress and worries bubble up - im crying as im typing this ffs, and i do have a job offer currently! i recall how, if i qwere to go on unemployment, i would be eligible for 120 usd a month - i couldn't even pay rent with that! i recall how our transfer within the company was treated - we were told there would be opportunities and we will have to apply, then we applied, got little feedback, and as the other project's start date approached, they started pressuring us (most specifically, me) to do our tests asap and i was literally given 20 minutes on the end of a workweek to decide if i wanted to start on the other project on monday. did not go well.

so i just ended up crying - and angry at myself, since earlier i would just be angry if anything happens, and i was used to working with anger, but i dont know how to deal with crying.

she may have acknowledged that i was crying, saying she knows this situation is not easy but i should do everything to get out of it (no shit).

then, sobbing, i explained that the gyno did not say the mri would be urgent, and she did acknowledge the long waitlist.

doctor goes back to weight loss / eating habits. do i eat dairy? dairy is like fertilizer for the cysts, she says. "i don't drink cows milk. i do like yogurts and cheeses tho." "no, you cannot eat cheese".

what the actual fuck is happening?

she asks me to lay down for an ultrasound of my thyroid (to make sure its all good). i explain that its left side was taken out and on the right, there seems to be just a tiny little lump, and im kinda curious if it grew. should i take off my shirt? nah, just pull the neckline apart.

i would have rather taken it off but k.

she acknowledges that the left lobe is indeed not there, and goes to town with the ultrasound ot see whats up on the remaining right half. kinda hurts but whatever. lets just get this over with.

"how much do ypu weigh?"

"honestly, too much rn"

"100 kg?"

"uhm... [i am above that so i say 5 kg less]"

...

"why did they leave the right lobe?"

fuck knows, lady, it was 10 years ago and im not a doctor. i was an entire child, do you think anyone cared to explain the medical decisions? do you think i understood?

"the theory was that they were hoping it would work at least on its own or that it would make up for the left part"

"well that isnt happening"

"i have noticed. but idk if taking it out now would do any good."

"nah"

tells me i can wipe off the gel and calls me back to her desk while she writes up her report.

tells me that i need a nutritionist for the insulin resistance and refers me to a colleague. then gets back on weight loss.

"the small blob on your thyroid would go away if you managed to lose the weight"

"also don't eat bread. don't have more than 2 slices a day" "i already don't eat bread" "then stop eating pasta."

gurl idk how to tell you but pasta and cheese are the only joy left in my life.

"but you have to go to a specialist. no one can do this alone"

idk how to tell you but im not _paying_ for someone to yell at me to lose weight... i know a lot about diets, nutrition, how a meal should look like, calories, intermittent fasting (btw, have you ever had an endocrinologist recommend intermittent fasting? i heard it was bad for your hormones lol), and i don't want to give like 70 usd for a "specialist" to potentially tell me nothing new. is this arrogant? yes. but again im not rich.

is it cheaper than whatever i would need to do if my body continues to deteriorate? idk. i would have to put it on my goddamn credit card tho.

and then i look on the paper she gave me.

she wrote "emotionally-pshychologically unstable" as a symptom. fuck off the entire way.

i left her office. i cried. i cried some more. i complained to my friends. almost lost it when i couldn't attach a lid on an iced coffee and it spilled on me. i didn't tell my parents because i do not trust them with questions regarding my mental health.

and i read her note about our meet again.

she wrote

"antecedent: right lobectomy.

currently right lobe micronodule"

so that's how doctors listen to fat people.

[magellanicpenguin]

as someone with -9.25 vision, and who grew up in a 100% myopic family, I would like to add some more

After you get past around -7, the ends of the frames start getting very thick. the lenses are ofc curved so the middle might be fine, but the ends are going to look straight out of a cartoon. By the time you get to -8, the ophthalmologists will start recommending hyper density, or at the very least grinding the edges so they're faceted instead of sharp. Even with excellent (at the cost of dental) eye insurance where we pay nothing for frames or lenses, the lowest level of hyper density is +140$. Full hyper density like what my mom gets is maybe +$400. Without insurance, easily a grand.

the larger the glasses the harder it is to actually install the lenses into the frames. I really wanted to try aviators the last time I went to get new glasses, but I was pressured into plastic again due to a) how stupid I would look with how thick my lenses are and b) how difficult it would to get the lenses into a big wire frame. Like, "they're gonna break" level of of difficulty. Big plastics, like what I've been wearing for about ~7 years now, are preferred because they have much more give

your prescription changes the most during puberty, and in old age (at the very least the shape of the lens changes, making your eyes more farsighted) The absolute worst they'll ever be is in college, where bad sleeping and reading habits strain your eyes the worst. My mom got all the way to -10.50, but after going into the workforce she went back down to -9.75

you should get an eye exam once a year; this includes at minimum a peripheral vision check (clicking machine), an analog comparison of your left and right eyes (i.e. the black spatula), and sitting in the chair (fine-tuning your prescription with the famous strings of letters)

You may also opt to get dilation. This is an every other year thing, where they give you eye drops, wait thirty minutes, and then check your retinas with a bright light. They will explain every time what it will look like if you get a catastrophic retinal tear, that you MUST call the ER immediately, and that you explain what's happening to the emergency responders, because there is a VERY brief window where the damage is reversible. fyi, they say it'll be like a curtain of light descending over your vision. risk for this comes down to genetics, prescription, eyeball shape, lens shape, stress, etc.

If you have I believe -2.5 and above, you're also recommended to get the glaucoma test ever other year. With my level of nearsightedness, I am at extreme risk for glaucoma and it's recommended I get the test every year (not that I do). My family lovingly refers to this test as the Puff Test. It's a machine that blows air into your eyeball to measure pressure. It's also the world's greatest flinching machine; flinching fucks up the reading tho so then they have to take it again. I'm a full grown adult and I have cried and flinched every time.

As long as your eyes have not changed, and they're not giving you problems, YOU DO NOT NEED TO GET NEW GLASSES. Even with good insurance, my mother would only get new glasses once every six or seven years. As an adult, your eyes don't change that much, and it is insanely uneconomical to do so. If your doctor is telling you otherwise... that's weird. Even for more normal prescriptions, I believe once every other year or every three years is normal in my area.

there are multiple reasons my a lens might pop out of the frame. If you have wire frames, it's most likely because a tiny fucking screw just jettisoned itself onto your carpet floor... this happened enough in my family, we have one of those glasses screw sets to just fix it ourselves. You can get the lens back in by yourself given enough patience. If it fell out of a plastic... I've never tried that, cause that's real fucking hard to do, so it's never happened to me. However, a professional should fix them without charge.

With high prescription lenses, the glasses literally warp your face. Being so nearsighted, your eyes will look small and beady, and the sides of your face get pulled in by about an inch. Thankfully, big eyes runs in my family, so my face almost looks normal... but we're completely unrecognizable without our glasses. When I was a child, I couldn't recognize my own father or mother without their glasses.

As one of a family of 7 glasses-wearers, I thought it was strange and horrible to not wear glasses. I purposely exaggerated my difficulties in during my first exam (~4 or 5yo) so I could get a pair of glasses and 'be part of the family'. I was incredibly proud of my first pair of glasses in kindergarten, though I often misplaced them

It is my belief, and I believed shared among my family, that directly contrary to the tropes, people look better with glasses. When people tell me "oh have you tried contacts" "oh you know you can fix that now", I a) get pissed because how fucking dare you and b) laugh because glasses look so much better. The subtle differences in shape and shade of a frame can completely transform how your eyebrows, cheeks, and nose look. A good pair is just as good as a good contour, honestly. As such, either trust your ophthalmologist with your life or bring someone you DO trust to have good compositional sense, because a photo will NOT do you justice

winged eyeliner is impossible. My ability to see accurately in a mirror is shorter than the length of an eyeliner pen (a short one). That is, the end of the pen butts into the mirror. Eyeshadow brushes are the same. At most, I just apply it blind or with my glasses still on, then clean my glasses. However, nobody can see shit anyway. I've been complimented on patchy, uneven ass make-up many times. Glasses cover up all sins.

i am lazy. I rarely take off my glasses when taking off a shirt. tbf all of them are oversized, or I just endure the discomfort of my glasses getting smushed against my face

I have fallen asleep with my glasses on many times, not on purpose but accidentally. Usually they travel up to my forehead, as I don't roll much. I haven't had a lens break, but I have had legs break.

My glasses are thick and big, and plastic. You sit on my glasses on a bed or on a sofa, they're gonna make a noise, but they probably won't break. It's more likely the legs are gonna get fucked.

Mine are also really heavy. They fall off my bed (often) or my face (occasionally, I have oily skin) with a big clatter. I've never had a pair break from a fall before. I have had one chip before.

If a non-glasses wearing person wears my glasses, after about 1 minute you'll get a migraine. After several minutes, it starts to damage your vision. It's fun for a few seconds, no more.

Because of how dependent I am on my glasses (and paranoid), without a table or something within six inches of my pillow, I set my glasses next to my pillow. This does result in losing my glasses on occasion. On one memorable morning, I spent an hour blindly digging through the garbage trying to find my glasses only to discover they had fallen into the space between the bed and the bedframe (as they ALWAYS do). I am never as frustrated, desperate, and humiliated as I have been when my glasses are missing. You have to grovel on the ground like an animal to get close enough to see your glasses, and any discoloration could be your glasses, only to discover it's trash or a fucking spider... horrible. Either have your previous pair as a back-up, or live with someone who should have their eyes on.

Some notes for anyone writing a character with glasses, from someone who wears glasses everyday:

- glasses need to come off before changing a shirt, unless it has a really big collar. Otherwise, glasses will get ripped off by said shirt collar.

- weather will affect how well you can see out of them, especially rain. Raindrops will dot glasses and it’s like trying to drive a car in the rain without working windshield wipers. Snow sometimes does this too, but not as bad, and lots of dust kicking up will make glasses dirty and foggy. If it’s humid enough (talking like swampy, Deep South levels, weather app says “90-100% humidity”), glasses will fog up when you step outside. If it’s crazy windy, glasses can fly off and the character should hold onto them or take them off and put them somewhere safe. They’ll usually get dirty or break in a pants pocket, so maybe have character carry around a sturdy glasses case if needed.

- not all materials are good for wiping glasses off. Some shirt materials just make it worse.

- if your character’s glasses are super dirty or smudged, they will be able to see it 24/7 as they look around and it’s annoying af.

- although glasses can keep things from getting in a character’s eyes (like something that’s been sprayed), it doesn’t protect our eyes all the time, especially if it’s coming at an angle or there’s a large amount. For that, you’d need actual safety glasses or goggles (and yes, they do make prescription goggles, but they’re not cheap).

- speaking of waves, for the love of god, DO NOT have your character swim with their glasses on. At best, they’ll get wet and they won’t be able to see. At worst, if they’re forced underwater or an ocean wave smacks them in the face, they’ll fly off and/or break.

- a crack in glasses is actually annoying af and makes it very hard to see.

- if a character’s face is wet, like from sweat or a ton of rain, their glasses will continuously slide down their nose and they’ll need to keep pushing them back up.

- lots of liquids other than water will make glasses opaque.

- glasses should be fitted pretty well to a person’s head. So if the character’s face is dry or there’s a moderate amount of wind, the “legs” that go behind their ears should be tight enough that they don’t just constantly fly off or slip down their nose. If they do, they’re too big (but obviously something a tornado will make them fly off).

- although I hate the whole “they took off their glasses and now they’re a ✨ model ✨” trope, people do tend to look very different with glasses on vs off - especially a character like Harry Potter who constantly wears their glasses. It’s not unrealistic that people who don’t know the character well (or even those who do, but just aren’t as quick) won’t recognize them at first without their glasses.

- as far as I know (correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve never been able to do this), if a lens pops out of the frames, it can’t be popped back in by non-professionals without the right tools. The glasses are just done for.

- if your character has contacts in (or this is a psa for anyone who wears contacts), DO NOT have them rub their eyes. The contact will pop out and they’re very translucent and tiny, so trust me, it will just fall and be lost forever.

- being able to see clearly out of one eye and not the other (like with a broken/missing lens or a contact falling out) causes headaches.

- glasses are expensive af in the US (idk about other places). One time when I didn’t have vision insurance, an eye exam and two frames with lenses (I have blue eyes and very extreme light sensitivity, so have to have prescription sun glasses as well as regular glasses) cost over $900USD. If you want the special frames that become tinted and basically turn into sunglasses when you walk outside, it will cost extra.

- speaking of those lenses that become tinted when you walk outside, they take awhile to fade back to normal after you go back inside. Your character needs to be prepared to still be “wearing” sunglasses for the first 5-10 minutes after they walk inside.

- if a character is wearing contacts, they can wear normal sunglasses. If not, they’ll need special prescription sunglasses to be able to see. You cannot wear prescription sunglasses with contacts in or you won’t be able to see anything. Ever tried to look through your friend’s glasses and everything’s weird and warped and giving you a headache? That’s what it will look like.

- not exactly glasses related, but people with lighter colored eyes will always have worse light sensitivity than people with darker eyes. I have very blue eyes and looking up at the sky on a sunny day will literally make me see stars, and especially if I’m driving towards the sun while it’s setting, I have to have my sunglasses on or I literally will not be able to see and tears will be leaking out my eyes the whole way home.

- speaking of prescription sunglasses, unless your character can see pretty far without their glasses or they’re far sighted, you cannot just take prescription sunglasses off and still be able to see, especially while driving. You just have to deal with it and keep the sunglasses on and look like a Matrix wannabe if it gets cloudy or starts raining, or you have to do the super speedy Dance of Death where you’re still watching the road in front of you, taking off one pair of glasses and putting the other on super fast (which usually requires you to use your mouth to open and close things).

- GLASSES ARE FRAGILE. Seriously, a very petite person could sit in them and snap them in half. They’re not something you want your character just throwing around.

- there are varying levels of how well someone can see. There’s farsightedness and nearsightedness. Some people don’t have that much trouble and can see pretty far, so only wear their glasses as needed. But some people (aka moi) can genuinely only see a few inches in front of their face. Like if I ever lost my glasses or they broke, I’d be done for. I wouldn’t be able to work or drive or do anything around the house.

- glasses need to be replaced about once a year because of possible prescription changes or sometimes lenses losing their strength and becoming harder to see through. Trying to tough it out after long enough will give your character headaches/migraines and sore eyes from eye strain.

- some mascaras (especially thick ones) will smudge glasses when the character blinks. Same with false lashes (although they’ll brush instead of smudge). Usually less intense mascaras and shorter fake lash lengths are better.

- eye makeup is harder to see with glasses on.

- please, please, PLEASE stop using the whole “omg look how much prettier/more attractive they are without their glasses” trope. Not everyone’s eyes can handle contacts and some people prefer wearing their glasses. And it makes those of us who prefer glasses or have to wear them feel like shit, especially because there aren’t a lot of characters with glasses in media who don’t become the butt of a joke (ie the one wearing glasses is the “ugly duckling” for it like in princess diaries, or like Velma from scooby doo always losing them and patting around, or people who wear glasses will always be some sort of dorky/insufferable know it all).

- glasses come in all shapes, sizes, and colors and can be used to actually enhance a character’s style! Some of them even have magnetic frames that click in place over the simple pair, so have fun using glasses to build your character’s style.

- edit to add: no one ever purposely falls asleep with their glasses on. You will crush and break them when you roll around. However, if a character does accidentally fall asleep with them on, a love interest gently taking them off so they don’t wake them up and setting them on the table next to them can be a super cute moment.

- whoops thought of some more. Hair products, especially hairspray, can be a bitch to get off glasses and doesn’t always just rinse off with water. If they’re spraying anything, including dry shampoo, the glasses have gotta come off and get out of the line of fire first.

- hair can and will get caught in the little hinge by the legs and we do occasionally not notice till we take our glasses off and rip a hair out of our heads.

- be careful when you comb or brush, cuz if the glasses legs get caught in the brush or comb, it will be ripped off our face.

Hope this helps! May the writing gods bless your work 🤓

[possthrowaway4q]

I've learned/realized a lot about my health issues recently, and I... really need some opinions. Particularly from people with traumatic brain injuries. So I'm gonna share my story.

Major Trigger Warning: birth complications, asphyxiation, seizures, child endangerment, medical neglect

(Sorry this isn't under a readmore I have literally never been able to use them on mobile without breaking the post)

I was lied to about my birth story. I was told by my mother that I came into the world a beautiful and perfectly healthy baby (and in her defense she very well could've convinced herself of this). This is, according to what my dad told me now that I'm an adult, completely false. My mother and I both almost died. The doctors didn't believe she was in labor yet. Called it Braxton Hicks for multiple days. Wasn't until one of them actually checked and saw my head that they believed her. Came out completely blue with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck and was totally silent when they unwrapped me. Had to spend multiple days in the NICU in one of those oxygen tents. Don't know a lot of the details because apparently it wasn't discussed much. No idea if the doctors said anything about potential long-term issues and even if they did, there's no guarantee my parents kept an eye out properly. Didn't find out until a few years ago that I had hallucinations and frequent vivid nightmares as a young kid and the person mentioning it clearly didn't think much of it, despite me vaguely remembering seeing two separate child therapists around that age. Like, early elementary, I think.

That's not the only event though. Summer between 5th and 6th grade I had a drug-induced seizure. I was being watched by a family member who was kind of notorious for hoarding all sorts of medications. Including ones she was no longer prescribed. She didn't keep everything in their proper bottles either, moving pills between and re-labeling them. Including putting prescriptions in OTC containers. I asked for something for a headache. She gave me a pill saying it was Tylenol - didn't even see the bottle it came out of - and left me be again. Wasn't long before I knew something was wrong. Thankfully, I had my phone in my hand and was able to text her before I lost complete control of my muscles. Dunno how long exactly the seizure lasted, but it must've been at least ten minutes because that's how far away my parents lived and they were there with me when it ended. Remember my dad picking me up and holding me until I could talk and move again. We never did go to the hospital. Idk if it's because we all assumed I was fine once it was over or if it was because no one wanted to get the family member in trouble. Would explain why she called my parents instead of an ambulance, I suppose.

Been thinking about that tonight. Realized I was never really the same after that. I went from all As in school to completely unable to keep up with most subjects. I couldn't think or focus, I was in a fog most of the time, was losing large gaps of time and couldn't remember both short and long term things, and shortly after that was the beginning of my three year long psychotic break. Everyone remembers how the start of middle school is when all my mental health symptoms went into overdrive and I was just. Notably worse. And to top it all off, I always have said that my memory of my past seems to only go back to a few substantial memories in 5th grade and everything prior basically doesn't exist most of the time.

So I guess my question is just... could I have brain damage? Birth asphyxia is bad enough, but a 10+ minute long seizure as a child? I'm pretty sure that's way past the threshold of a medical emergency/when permanent brain damage can start. But every time I mention the idea to anyone, it gets brushed off. Either because I "don't need another thing wrong with me" or "does it really matter?" or because neither thing are your typical ideas of a TBI.

Sure, I've got a bunch of other reasons I could have these symptoms. Even just on the mental health side, ADHD, autism, psychosis, dissociative disorder stuff, and it's been too long for any doctor to say definitively one way or the other if they even take me seriously. But... I don't know, could those have contributed? Hell, could that be the root source of some of it that no one connected to because we never talked about it after the fact? (I even completely forgot for a long time. Didn't think it was a big deal. Didn't really understand seizures at the time.) I can't emphasize enough how drastically my health changed after that seizure. But maybe it was just puberty or the increase in difficulty/stress from going from elementary to middle school.

Surely it's possible though that those things at least exacerbated underlying issues or something? I guess the root of my question is whether the traumatic brain injury community would have me. I don't think I'll ever be able to fully, publicly identify that way, but I still desperately want to know if I'd be welcomed if I tried. Could I really have brain damage or am I just being dramatic or a hypochondriac or something? I just wanna know why I'm so fucked up in the head.

[mckiwi]

Whumptober 2022 Day 8: Stomach Pain

Characters: Stephen Strange, Christine Palmer, Wong

Summary: The toll of magic is different for everyone. Apparently for Stephen, it means a change of diet.

Ugh. He knew he shouldn't have gone back for a second helping. Stomach full and content, Stephen threw his breakfast bowl in the sink to wash later. He plopped into his favorite chair and took out the book he had been reading. He hadn't gotten through three paragraphs before the Sanctum rumbled in warning. Something was wrong. A light flickered in the hallway, then a little further. Trusting the Sanctum to lead him, Stephen followed the flickering lights to the relic room. He immediately saw the problem.

A vase was shattered on the floor with a black cloud surrounding it… demons… an amazing start to his day. The black cloud quickly formed snarling faces, all of them chanting we're free, we will reign yet again, we have escaped, and other victorious cries. "Oh no you don't," Stephen said and cast the Shield of the Seraphim around the unwanted guests. They, of course, didn't appreciate it as they immediately started clawing at the golden runes caging them. He then fastened the vase back together and trapped the demons back inside. Not a permanent fix, but long enough for him to find a better containment.

Stephen lightly clutched his stomach as a sudden wave of nausea rolled over him. That wasn't even a taxing spell? Why would he be feeling affects? Perhaps it's just because he recently ate. Yes, that had to be it. His stomach just hadn't digested the food yet.

Later that day, Stephen only took about five bites of his pizza before his heart started to burn and his gut twisted. What was going on? Two instances in one day? He was healthy, wasn't he? He felt the best he had in years. He wasn't diabetic or at risk for most medical emergencies. Maybe it was time he called in that favor with Christine.

————————

"Check again," Stephen demanded.

"I can check again all you want me to but the fact still remains you have a stomach ulcer," Christine explained, slightly sympathetic. "There's multiple reasons a stomach ulcer can appear, there's-"

Stephen raised a hand to stop her, "I know, Christine. Thank you, but I'm aware of the causes as well. I've still got a doctorate, not that anyone cares."

Christine sighed, "you know I didn't mean it like that. What do you think caused it, then?"

Stephen returned the sigh, "the only thing I can think of is-"

He opened the fridge and immediately gagged as he saw its contents, "Wong! Please tell me there's a perfectly good explanation for why there's eyeballs in the fridge!"

Wong meandered to where Stephen was and made a small noise of realization, "so that's where those went."

"Why are they in there?" Stephen asked. "That's gotta be at least twelve biohazards."

"Magic," Wong answered and opened the jar.

"Magic?" He repeated, watching as Wong snatched an eye from the jar, "for what? Potions? Spells?"

Wong popped the eyeball in his mouth like a grape, "for a snack." Stephen heaved.

"Crap," Stephen groaned.

"Crap? What's that mean? You need to take a crap?" Christine asked.

"What? No. Well… yes, but that's not what this is about," Stephen deflected. "Magic takes a toll. That's why we have relics to take the strain our bodies can't. That's not to say the body doesn't get away scot-free, though. The toll can take many forms as it changes your biology to be a better conduit for magic. It can affect the blood, brain, eyes, lungs, ears, and even the stomach."

"What's that mean for you then? You'll have stomach ulcers from now on?" Christine asked worriedly.

Stephen shrugged, "I don't know. I'll ask Wong about it. He should know. It's probably nothing serious."

————————

"I'm perfectly serious, Stephen. Your stomach can't tolerate human food anymore," Wong explained.

Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose, "this can't be happening."

Wong laid a hand on his shoulder, "it's alright. You'll just have a slight change in diet. The other sorcerers who have a similar toll have adapted. So will you."

"I don't wanna eat eyeballs, Wong! I live in New York City! I want to eat pizza, french fries, and all the other greasy foods that'll shave at least twenty years off my life!" Stephen protested. "What if I ate human food anyway? I'm used to pain, I can deal with heartburn if that means no interdimensional… whatever is gonna enter my stomach."

Wong pressed his lips together, "I assure you the food isn't that bad. You can still eat salad, it'll just be lettuce from another dimension. As for eating human food, you still can, it'll upset your stomach and give you bad reactions. Similar to someone who's lactose intolerant. You're just human-food intolerant."

Stephen dropped his head on the table. A moment later, he heard a click beside him as Wong set down a bowl. It almost looked like spaghetti, but Stephen wasn't fooled. "What's in this? Alien intestines? Bug guts?"

"Pasta, meat, and sauce," Wong deadpanned. "From the Elysium dimension. Grains and fruits grown from the Elysian Fields. Meat straight from the Farm." Wong pushed the bowl to Stephen's elbow.

It did smell quite pleasing, far better than the sandwich he tried to choke down earlier. Stephen stared at the bowl incredulously, then at Wong. His stomach growled. "If this kills me, I guarantee you I will come back to haunt your every waking moment." Stephen twirled some noodles onto his fork, raised it to his mouth, and took a bite. The flavor exploded in his mouth so suddenly and-

Oh.

That actually wasn't half bad. A bit more of a herbal taste than spaghetti normally had, but not bad.

Wong smirked at Stephen's surprised face, "told you."

[nessaxc]

___________________________________

Stress Reliever || Kuroo Tetsurou

You're working so hard one day that you develop a migraine so Kuroo is determined to help relieve it.

~ Rating: Explicit

~ Words: 2.5k

~ Tags: Fluff, Comfort Sex, Lap Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Sexual dialogue, Swearing, Vaginal Sex,

___________________________________

Funny enough the day didn’t start off terrible. In fact, it started off pretty well. You woke up fairly early enough to drag yourself out of bed to do your morning exercises. Even after exercising and getting ready, you still had time to make yourself some coffee, and you were feeling in a positively good mood, though, that quickly went away.

Your professor was nagging you about the extra exercises and apparently you had a deadline for it, so you were swamped with work, and felt like you were being pulled in multiple directions. As such, you completely skipped lunch and barely had time to snack or eat the rest of the day. That was a major mistake and now you were starting to regret it horribly. The coffee stain on your shirt was a grim reminder of how much of a shit day you were having, so you tugged it off later that day to change into a comfortable nightdress.

Your head felt like it was on fire. You tried to focus on your computer screen, but the light of the device hurt your eyes and you shut them, pressing the heels of your palms into closed eyelids. The lack of food and water, plus your stress was starting to cause a migraine to emerge and you foolishly tried to just wish it away. Obviously it didn't seem to work.

Then Kuroo came around when you were working in the living room, wearing a deep red robe, sipping from a cup before he pulled it away from his lips to ask, "You okay, baby?" he walked over, and when he slammed his cup down on the table it made you wince.

"No," you admitted. You pulled your hands away from your face and nearly sobbed as you saw that your computer was now frozen.

You bit back a collection of swears that you wanted so desperately to scream. Instead, you grimly began to work again after everything closed, clicking on a browser to get back started.

"Earth to Y/N!" he waved his hand in front of your face, chuckling in amusement, and you just moved your head to the direction of the screen. The more you went on, the harder it got to concentrate. Your migraine was full on now, and your head was throbbing so much that it made it near impossible to focus on anything. You closed your eyes for a few moments, before you forced yourself to open them as you returned to the exercises you were working on.

"I think you need to relax," he suggested, "you can barely look at the computer screen," he laughed as he mocked the way your eyes were falling closed, his eyes heavily lidded as he slowly blinked them, a dazed look on his face.

"I can't, I have more work to do," you muttered. You appreciated his attempt at showing concern, but you really were too busy to leave now. You didn't even know what time it was, but you constantly told yourself that you weren't going to stop until everything was finished.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you fought the urge to look at him as he massaged the curve of it with his fingers.

"Aw don't be such a workaholic," he told you, and you nearly hissed at him, "I think what you need is a break, doctor's orders!" he exclaimed with a chuckle. "C'mon, you don't have anything that can't wait until tomorrow."

"I'm fine," you lied. You were stubborn and hated leaving things unfinished.

"You're not fine, c'mon, now the boss is telling you that you need to stop working," he urged, and you would have laughed because he was speaking in that cute whiny voice you loved had you not been so invested in your work. "I won't take no for an answer," he said with an amused smirk.

"No it's okay," you started, "I can keep going," you said, your voice lacking any sort of conviction. "I have a deadline."

"Well I said you don't, the professor gonna have to wait, last I checked you're supposed to listen to me, not that old fart," he pulled the laptop away from your grasp, and you wanted to argue but the words died in your throat as your head throbbed painfully.

"Tetsurou, I wasn't finished," you said, your voice expressing weak disapproval.

He scooped you up into his arms suddenly, humming away loudly and acting as if he didn't hear you. He carried you all the way to his room, bridal-style, which you couldn't help but giggle at, and he flopped down on the bed, positioning you on the comfortable seat that was his lap. He ran his hand along your arm, stroking the skin there as he eyed you with a suggestive look on his face.

"Migraine?" he asked. He knew you so well. You had the tendency to get migraines when you pushed yourself too much, and you groaned in response.

"You had a tough day huh?" he continued, a pout playing on his lips before he chuckled. "No biggie, I'm here to fix that," he assured, his voice somewhat soothing for once.

"It sucked," you mumbled, leaning into his touch as he stroked both of your arms with his hands, feeling yourself relax a little more. He pulled you closer against his chest, his breath tickling your neck.

"Sorry you had a shit day," he chuckled, his grin widening when you cracked a small smile, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "But that's why you always have me to make it extraordinary!" he exclaimed smugly.

"It's fine, I had worse," you admitted, and he continued to laugh at that. You both fell into silence for a few moments. You loved that you could have a horrible day or a shitty migraine, and Kuroo would be there to help make you feel better. You were so comfortable and warm, despite the pounding in your head. But even with that pulsating ache in your head, you found yourself getting lost in the features of his face — those long ebony eyelashes, that single strand of black hair that fell in front of his forehead, the glimmer in his eyes, you drank it all in, and of course he noticed this.

"Like what you see, baby?" he raised both eyebrows inquisitively, his smirk only broadening even more so, entertained by your watchful stare.

"Maybe," you said with a light shrug, acting as if it was nothing.

He slid his hands up to your shoulders, kneading his fingers into them, and the feeling made you shiver slightly. You found yourself craving his touch almost instantly. You were suddenly very aware of his hot skin against yours and his hot breath chasing the skin on your neck.

"You know," he said before leaning in to press kisses upon your neck, "sex actually helps migraines."

As soon as he said the words, you felt him twitch against you. His lips then brushed your shoulder and you could feel his sly smirk.

"Is that so?" you asked, your voice taking a very different tone, that suggested a challenge. His fingers wandered down to the hem of your nightdress in search of the skin underneath.

"Yes, or so I've heard," he teased, making you chuckle in response.

"Make me feel better then," you whispered. You reached for the first button of your nightdress, his eyes widened a little as you worked your way down, and you emitted a soft gasp as you felt him harden against you. You popped the next one open but he quickly became impatient with your pace, he brought his hands back up and tore the dress open, letting the buttons fly about the room in loud pings before tossing it away.

You couldn't help but giggle in response to that because of how eager he was, and he quickly joined your state of laughter. Your hands fumbled to rid of the robe that covered his body, slipping it off in a hurry and allowing it to join your ripped dress on the floor. Your cheeks turned to the color of scarlet upon the sight of his stiff erection pointing up, amazed by how hard he was already.

You shivered when he cupped your breast. His hand was cold, and your nipples were already hard from the chill in the night air, but when he brushed his thumb over the sensitive tip of your breast, you sighed in pleasure. You trailed your cool fingertips down his side to his hip, your breath hitched.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he said under his breath before a chuckle slipped through, then he pressed his lips to yours. When you began to trail your fingers up and down his member, his tongue plunged into your mouth. He cupped your other breast, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your nipples. You inched forward, rubbing the ball of your thumb against the head of his member. When you were almost straddling him, you shifted your weight from your knees to your feet, sliding one arm around his neck to hold your balance as you kept fondling his member, and he nipped at your bottom lip, letting out a low, pleased moan.

"Oh shit," he growled before he added, "you're mine, all mine," he repeated, giving you one last hard kiss, then nuzzling his way down to your neck, and you arched to give him room as he brushed his lips just lightly across the tops of your breasts. You angled your hips, gripping his shoulders as you rubbed the slit of your sex into the hard length of his erection, your clit sliding against the underside of his shaft, and when he suckled against your nipple, you shuddered, making you whimper loudly.

"Mmm, yes," you murmured, closing your eyes as he lashed his tongue back and forth against your nipple, then gently bit the underside of your breast.

"So beautiful, fuck, I love how this perfect body is all mine," he cooed. He moved to the other, stroking your wet nipple as he pressed his other palm into the small of your back, guiding you as you ground against him. He murmured your name against your breast, and closed his teeth around your nipple. Your clit brushed the tip of his member and you moaned, hips trembling a little as you kept rubbing against him in a desperate attempt for some relief.

"Baby, get inside me," you moaned, and he kissed you between your breasts before he straightened. His dark-eyed gaze was intent on yours, watching as you were a complete and utter panting mess against him. He guided you up, angling himself under you, making you lean forward and you caught his earlobe in your mouth hungrily.

"Please, baby, please, oh fuck," you cried, and when he was just barely seated inside you, instantly you tilted forward, the tips of your breasts rubbing against his chest. He pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, and you trembled as you sank onto his member, working your way down until your hips were flush.

You threw your head back as you thrust into him fervidly, losing yourself in the sensation of him inside you, filling you. When you took his full length and then gently circled your hips, his thumb still working against your clit, you both moaned aloud.

"Mmm. You feel so good," he growled. "Harder, baby," he urged breathlessly.

You adjusted your weight and he tilted back a little, changing the angle just slightly. When you began to bounce up and down on his member, he let out a louder moan, flicking your clit even harder, his other hand coming up to pluck at your breast. You cried out in pleasure when he squeezed your nipple between his forefinger and thumb, then did the same to the other.

"Yeah, babygirl, you're so fucking sexy," he panted hotly upon your moist skin, "so perfect riding my cock like this, oh fuck," he uttered gruffly around a grunt.

"Oh yes, Tetsurou," you sobbed as your inner flesh started to spasm around his member. You rode him harder, faster, seeking the friction your body craved without missing a beat, slamming your hips up and down upon his, frantically bumping into them without a care as your cries bounced off the walls of the room. "Yes, yes yes, baby, it feels so fucking good—"

"Come," he demanded hoarsely as he forcefully pressed down on your clit then slipped the pad of his finger into it with an untamed motion. Your arousal was making you shudder with desperation, and your sobs rose until you were almost screaming as he rocked up under you. Beads of hot sweat formed on his temple, making his hair stick to his warm skin as his body twitched with the sensation of engulfing you completely.

"Fuck, your pussy feels so good, baby," he praised, and your face flushed a deeper red, tipping your head back as your whole body trembled. You lifted your hips up and down as fast as you possibly could because you knew you were about to burst any second. You gripped his shoulders painfully tight for leverage when you finally reached your climax.

"Oh fuck," you mewled, rocking your hips side to side, almost corkscrewing down onto his member, and the wild movements of his finger stilled, groaning as he let himself come. You sank down onto him as he pulsed inside of you, and stayed lock to him, skin to skin, wrapped around each other.

Your head was against his neck as you panted hard upon his skin, eyes fluttering open as he tilted forward, letting both of your bodies fall back upon the soft cushion of his bed once you two shared a moment of simply attempting to get your breathing under control. He reached for the blanket, pulling it up around you two, over your bare shoulders, and then you realized you were shaking as your sweat dried on your skin.

"Mmmm," you murmured against his skin, placing a soft kiss upon his neck in a weak attempt to thank him.

Your migraine was now just a dull throbbing pain, and you felt so relaxed and satisfied that you went limp against his body. He lifted your chin up to make you face him, removing a few strands of hair from your face. He planted a couple of kisses along your shoulder and then your cheek. "So how's my girl feeling now? All better?" he asked with a chuckle, running his other hand down your back, feeling the soft flesh beneath.

"Better, much better," you purred as you stretched your body closer to his touch.

He chuckled, "Glad I could help."

___________________________________

[mistchievous]

Story time!

For @evcndiaz and the rest of you nosy bastards lovely human beings. 😂

This is the story of me breaking my foot on Day 1 of an almost month long vacation to Europe.

I was at Père Lachaise Cemetery with my ex. We were exploring and using Google Maps as a guide.

It had been raining off and on all day, and the stone for the pathways was super slippery and coated in leaves that made it even worse. We'd both been griping about almost falling multiple times over the course of the hours we'd been there.

Well, we were wrapping things up, but she wanted to go to the grave of Edith Piaf before we left (Idek who that is, bro), and Google Maps had been giving us all sorts of direction problems.

Well, we went up a few steps just to discover it was the wrong way, and we turned to go back down. And I slipped.

My right foot bent in half underneath me and I heard it crack.

Literally yelled out "FUCK!" in the middle of this ancient respected cemetery, and my ex and two strangers rushed over to check on me.

I didn't actually believe anything was broken because I've literally never broken a bone before in my LIFE. Thought the pain would be worse tbh.

But it did hurt like a bitch, and I couldn't walk on it. And we were TRAPPED. So the ex called security, but I was able to stop a man driving a security van while she was still on the phone with them.

Of course, my stupid American ass doesn't speak French despite coming to France, and the driver didn't speak English (he's valid tho -- again this is France). So we were like pantomiming at each other until I was able to get my ex over to explain. He then drove us to the entrance of the cemetery where a taxi picked us up and took us to the emergency room.

I ended up stuck at the hospital for almost 8 hours.

When I was in the back, the doctor and I had another fun adventure trying to understand each other across language barriers.

Turned out I'd broken my foot (it was swollen and painful af by now) and would need to wear some special boot while it healed.

But they didn't have the boot. So my ex took Uber to multiple 24 hour pharmacies across Paris before being told it would HAVE to be ordered because despite what the doctor said, no one would have it on hand. So then she came back and left again to go BACK to the pharmacy and return with crutches.

And I've been laid up in her mom's apartment hobbling around for the last day when I haven't been asleep.

Knocked a towel rack off the wall by grabbing it to stop myself from falling at one point.

ANYWAY! Tomorrow is Monday, and they order my boot. It can take up to 48 hours to arrive, but once I get it, I should at least be decently mobile while I heal.

The Normandy sidetrip to see @tarlosbuddie didn't happen. The Venice sidetrip to see @buckbuckley will prob be pushed back a few days.

And it's because it was raining, the sidewalk was slippery, and I'm clumsy as FUCK.

[newhologram]

New's Ketamine Diary

7.30.22 Unfamiliar Stability

Trips have been really mellow still, which isn't really a bad thing. I bounce back a lot faster now and haven't needed to use my cane around the house as much after. Still not sure if the humidity did something to the troches or if it's time to discuss upping the dose.

Had to do a dose 2 days late because of PET scan and other things going on. It was a pretty easy trip, with not as intense out-of-body feelings, but still some nice visuals. I saw stop-motion Khonshu and it was interesting. Luckily my mental health had already been fine, but it was nice to have this little boost.

Then 5 days went by without me realizing it was already k day again, oops. I was still feeling so great mentally and emotionally that it wasn't even on my mind, although it could have been a dissociation episode. But like in a good way? I don't know. Even though I've been so laid out from multiple flare ups and 3-5 doc appts per week, I've been thankfully supported by a fun and intensely therapeutic special interest. Even after a stressful family emergency and having to run the house and do errands by myself for a week AND work two days in a row, I feel okay. I'm tired and in pain, I'm frustrated, but I feel very level. I feel good, like I can handle all of this.

Two weeks before my period, I usually have really deep depression. I definitely had intense chocolate cravings. Like probably the most intense of my life. I tried to limit myself but I was eating a lot of it. I could feel that my hormones were being wacky but there was zero depression. Crankiness at my chronic pain, sure, but less intense than usual.

I thought maybe it was because I was so distracted by just having fun with special interests. It's also likely because I've been doing ketamine therapy regularly for 4 months now. It may be finally built up in my system enough by now.

But I did also buy an essential oil balm for periods (by Cora, for anyone interested) and have been using it every night all over my belly. I used to make my own blends all the time and used a lot of clary sage/jasmine/ylang ylang for hormone chill, but haven't been able to afford my essential oil hobby in quite some time. So having this again in my daily routine may be helping too, but--

Now doctors are finally giving me enough Tramadol and Xanax that I can use it on bad days 1-3x a week, which means I'm able to not only be more productive, but rest and recover better. I'm still generally struggling to sleep, summertime insomnia is always bad. But I've been having some good nights. I still feel like I got hit by a truck when I wake up, but the little extra spoons I have can be used to cook and do things for myself that will give me more strength. Obviously having better pain management and emergency meds for bad days has a positive impact on my mental health.

This kind of mental and emotional stability and contentment is unfamiliar to me. At least, lasting this long. It's usually fleeting, before a C-PTSD trigger or hormones or a flare up steamrolls any sense of hope I had cultivated. I spoke about it a few times with my therapist, because it's just not something I'm used to, which is why I kept wondering if I've just been dissociating. So I'm trying to familiarize myself with this kind of place, and to be present in it.

PET scan and labwork results came back generally okay, inflammation as expected in my gut, will check back with oncologist in a few months but again, I think this is just more evidence to suggest endometriosis.

In a few weeks I see the gynecological oncologist, who technically does endo surgery, but again… probably not the kind I need. What a mess.

[ii-zi]

Truthfully can't remember ever not being sick. Afaik I've been "sickly" since birth; this meaning I'd get sick a couple weeks right after getting "better" of the same thing, having multiple illnesses afflicting my body, being sick for months at a time, etc.

Literally just last year I was (and still am) continuously "sick" to the point of barely functioning for over 7 months. I was only "functioning" because I completely disregarded both my mental health and the toll it'd have on my body just so I don't "fall behind" on life lol. I wouldn't even know I actually got COVID if it wasn't for my family all getting sick too due to how the life altering symptoms are so similar to what I'd experience in a mildly bad day.

A couple months (?) ago I saw that post about the "pain index" for hospitals. I actually knew about it beforehand? But what i learnt sorta put it in perspective. It's like a 1-10 scale for when you go to ER (emergency room) and have to describe you pain to the doctors. Can't remember exactly how it went but it was something like "barely ever exist, not aware of it most of the time/doesn't affect" to "can't move bc of it can't think of anything else". The same post went on a tangent about how abled/not chronically ill people have a base index of 0. Which means that, in a un-injured, resting state, the pain they constantly experience is 0. 0. No pain inflicted as a secondary reaction to existing. It hit me somewhat hard, bc at first i thought "yeah that's normal", but quickly i realized it was not my personal experience: the fact that I can ("can") regularly function (i.e. force myself to) doesn't mean I don't experience it. At this point people just don't believe be bc I "can't possibly be in pain/going thru something all the time"

I don't remember ever not being in pain. I've had to, since the very first moment of my existence, make several extra efforts to function quasi-effectively in the same way others do on a regular basis. When normal people experience the symptoms I'd have in a good day, they'd usually call in sick: stop momentarily their busy lives to recover (and with good reason) not only due to how taxing it's for the body, but also because of how hard it is to simply function as a normal person under said conditions.

I know the "world isn't fair" and all that kinda stuff we're always told, but why do I have to perform up to a regular standard when I gotta start in such a disadvantaged position?

The most realistic outcome I could get out seeking a diagnosis would be debt because I'm also fucking poor a "minor" bothersome issue (ex. gastritis) and a "keep pushing" lol. The next best thing would be a "chronically ill but Fit to Work".

I've had to force myself, since the very beginning, to function minimally like the others, overstressing my mind, over abusing my already pained body. I'll never be "allowed" to perform on even terrain, but i am permanently expected to get not only similar, but excelling results so I can "prove" I'm still "worth it" because of all the same shit that makes it all so difficult.

Not only i want a fucking rest, but the permanent option of taking one whenever I fucking need it

[flameohotwife]

Happy FFWF! Has there ever been a section of any fic you’ve written where you look back on it and find yourself impressed with yourself? If so, feel free to link the fic it’s from and talk about it!

Happy very belated FFWF (but on the right day!)! This is a really hard question, because I am my own worst critic. I had to go through my fics to find something, because nothing really stuck out just from thinking about it, but I think this section of Balance and Babies is something I'm really proud of:

When the final suds were in the drain and Bumi was happily snoring in his crib, Aang looked around his house to survey the damage.

Aside from the fruit pie and lunch mess in the kitchen--which had somehow managed to reach the walls, too--there was also a sea of small toys, a pillow fort, some spilled milk on the rug that was starting to sour, and some unknown substance smeared on the windows that even Momo wouldn’t touch. Aang sighed and bent some water from a nearby basin, hoping he could actually make the place look presentable before Bumi woke up again, or an angry acolyte showed up at his door.

As he cleaned he became aware that he might not have all the ingredients he needed to make the dinner he had planned, so halfway through rinsing the curdling milk from the rug he took a detour to the kitchen to check. He thought of the many things Katara was able to keep in her brain about their son and running their house on a daily basis, in addition to continuing her healing training on her own, teaching a few younger kids waterbending when she could, offering him advice on council affairs, teaching and loving their son, and actually keeping Bumi from injuring himself.

Aang felt deeply humbled and beyond thankful for his wife--his partner in all things. He was having so much fun, but by the end of each day he was exhausted, often falling asleep himself while trying to convince Bumi to do the same, and leaving the afternoon’s mess to hopefully be cleaned up in the morning. Even though he often helped with shopping or cooking or cleaning and spent lots of time with Bumi when Katara was home, being completely immersed in it like this--and cut off from most outside interaction with other adults--was more isolating and draining than he ever could have imagined. He was amazed that Katara frequently had the energy to stay up with him while he looked over treaties or tried to document the swaths of Air Nomad history that no one else would be able to do, and then for other activities once the lights went out. She was more amazing than he had ever even understood.

This got long so I'll continue under a cut.

This particular part of that story took a LOT of work to get right. I was stuck on this section for a very very long time, but I *think* I was able to do exactly what I wanted to with this passage. I wanted to convey just how *much* the "default parent" (the parent schools call first in an emergency, who knows when doctors appointments are needed and scheduled, who remembers what size clothes and shoes the kids are wearing, who has a mental checklist of everything that needs to get done in the house, etc.) has to remember every minute of every day. I wanted to convey both how tiring that can be, since I spent a lot of time also showing the rewarding and fun parts of parenting.

It's all, as the title says, about balance, and that balance is HARD to achieve especially once multiple kids enter the picture, but it's a hard adjustment to make with your first kid, too, as they grow from an infant to a toddler with CLEAR desires and minds of their own haha. The response I've gotten from other parents has been great, but I hope it isn't too overwhelming for non-parents to read, too. It's just another part of life and I love exploring those things through Kataang and the cloud family. Thanks so much for the ask! Sorry this got so long, haha.

[agentnolastname]

Half a Heart

An OH alternate universe where Casey Valentine got into Mass Kenmore Hospital's resident program instead, but she ends up meeting Ethan Ramsey anyway.

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X Casey Valentine (MC)

Chapter 1

Summary: Casey runs into a car crash on her way to her apartment less than a day before her first shift as Mass Kenmore resident.

"A resident. At Mass Kenmore. I actually start my shift in a few hours." She says still not sure of how to continue speaking without stuttering.

"Oh, that's nice, I guess." Ethan says and hangs the chart at the end of the bed. "I'm gonna check on other patients. You can stay here as long as you want."

Casey nods at this and smiles. "Thanks, Dr. Ramsey."

"You're welcome." Ethan stops by the door and faced her again. "You did well. Be confident next time, Rookie."

Word Count: ~1.6K

Trigger Warning: Car Crash, Accident

Note: May contain inaccuracies

***

"Carl, we seriously have to go now, I'm running late!" Casey stumbles upon their porch as she hastily puts her boots on.

Tomorrow is her first day as a resident, and there's only one flight scheduled for Boston today. Missing it, means not being able to attend her first day. That's why she really don't want to be late. Somehow, her brother does not feel her urgency though.

"You still have a couple of hours away from your flight." He says with a straught face as he walks past her, entering the car and opening the engine. Casey enters the car immediately, closing the door off with a bang. Carl laughs at this. "You need to stop being so nervous. You'll make it, and you'll enter Mass Kenmore head up high tomorrow. You'll do great."

Casey just snorts, rolling her eyes, "Well, thanks for the vouch of confidence but the plane won't wait."

They both shared a laugh as the car starts zooming through the highway.

***

It was a seven-hour flight, but it went by fast. She didn't even know they were landing, only realizing it once they actually did. As soon as she got off the plane, she yawns and stretches. Looking around, the thought finally sinks in.

She is indeed in Boston. Alone and about to spend residency in one of the city's most promising hospital. She wasn't sure if she is ready for this, but standing there right now at the Boston Logan International made her realize one thing. It's now or never and the only thing she wouldn't be able to accept is failure. She smiles to herself capturing a picture to send to her family before getting an uber.

It wasn't long before a black sedan stops in front of her. She immediately puts her bags inside and steps inside the car, giving her apartment address to the driver before she eases back into her seat.

Boston, I hope you're ready for me.

***

The drive was supposed to be a short one, considering that her apartment was just minutes away from both the airport and Mass Kenmore. However, her car stops in the highway, just a short distance away from what seemed to be a crash. She immediately got out of her car and walks towards the scene being cleared by paramedics. She stares out in shock.

Sure, they were warned about things like this before, but even during her internship, she never experienced something like this. She scanned the area assessing how bad the situation is. Two long school busses are completely toppled over, and with only a couple of paramedics out, she's sure they aren't gonna be finished anytime soon.

She sighs, running to the triage tent where she saw a paramedic furiously going through materials.

"Are there any doctors present yet?" She asked, the man just looked at her for a brief moment, continuing what he had been doing as he answered her question.

"None. They're on their way though."

She nods as she moves out of the tent again, scanning the area. She saw a little boy not too far away, desperately trying to move his fingers. She immediately runs to where he is.

The kid is stuck in a limbo, two pieces of metal are piercing him, one on the chest and on the abdomen.

"Code red! Someone get in here!" She shouted waiting for a paramedic. One of the EMTs run to her direction pulling a gurney along with him. Another paramedic helps to remove the metal from the boy, slowly lifting it up. The EMT carried the boy carefully into the gurney. Casey follows suit, since the boy had his hand wrapped on her finger, looking at her with tears in his eyes. "You're gonna be fine."

They rode the ambulance and starts making their way to the hospital. The EMT had attached an EKG on the child.

She leans back on the seat, sending a quick text to her uber asking him to drop her things at her apartment. Then she watched the kid closely and noticed how his breathing became rapid, his jugular vein distended.

"How many minutes before the nearest hospital?"

"Edenbrook is atleat 10 minutes away."

"He's tamponading, i'm afraid we can't wait that much." She bites her lip, unsure of what to do. She's an internal medicine resident, performing anything on the boy might cause her license. However, if she does nothing, he'll have no chance at all. "I need a needle and a catheter, I'm gonna do a pericardiocentesis."

"Are you allowed to do this?"

"Do you want this kid saved?"

The EMT did not speak again, instead he handed her the needle. Which she immediately took.

"We don't have an ultrasound, you're gonna have to go in blind." Casey nods at this, shifting her gaze into the young boy's chest.

"Tell me if there's even the slightest ST elevation."

Here's to praying it'll all goes well.

***

It felt like the longest ride. The pericardiocentesis went smoothly, the kid's breathing seemed to normalize after she did it. Pericardial fluid is still draining when they arrived at the hospital. The kid had held her hand again after she finished doing it.

I have to stop being attached to people this fast.

She shakes her head as the doors opened, they were immediately greeted by a couple of hospital interns.

"Carter Thompson, a nine-year-old male, with multiple metal puncture wounds obtained from the bus crash." The EMT nods at Casey hoping she'd explain the situation further.

"His BP is 100 over 80, he went under a cardiac tamponade on the way so I had to perform an emergency pericardiocentesis. One of his arms looks obviously fractured."

"Who are you?" One of the residents looked at her, confused.

Right. Who am I. A kid is dying, Karen.

"I'm Casey Valentine. I was on my way when I saw the crash." She said. The interns just nod despite the still confused faces. She watched as they pull the gurney away, walking towards the hospital.

"I think you've made quite the call." The EMT says suddenly.

"I hope so." She smiled at him. "By the way, I'm Casey. I guess you've already heard earlier. I believe I haven't gotten your name, though."

"I'm Rafael."

"Nice name." She says as he went inside the ambulance to fix the equipments inside, letting another EMT replace the equipments taken earlier. "I think I'm gonna head inside to check on him."

"I think you should." Rafael nods and offers his hands. Casey takes and shakes it. "It was nice meeting you."

"You, too. Looking forward to see you again, soon." With that she enters the hospital.

***

She was waiting for an update for a couple of hours. She sat on the lobby checking in on her work groupchat every once in a while. She's tired from the flight, and the fiasco earlier, yet she can't find herself leaving. She would just like to make sure the boy is okay.

"Is there anyone here who knows Carter Thompson?" She sat still, waiting for someone to speak. A few seconds after, no one did. So she stands instead and approaches the nurse.

"I was the one who took him in earlier." She says. The nurse nods leading her into a room where a doctor stands, busy writing on a chart while Carter lies on the bed, still unconscious.

"Dr. Ramsey, his guardians aren't here." The nurse said the moment they got inside the room.

"We're gonna have to wait for them then."

"There's someone who is waiting for an update on him though."

Casey shifts uncomfortably as the attending looks up from his charts, his eyes landing on her.

"Who are you?" He asked, voice stern. Casey couldn't help but stare.

How is this hospital filled with good-looking people?

She clears her throat when she noticed that the man still looks at her with a straight face.

"I brought him in earlier."

"Oh, you performed the pericardiocentesis." He says and puts the chart down, turning to face her. "A good call, I must say. He is doing fine now."

Casey looks at him expectantly.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more."

Right. Confidentiality protocols.

Nodding, she speaks. "I just want to make sure he's alright. I'm not sure if I've done the procedure right earlier."

"You're a rookie?" Ethan is not one for small talks yet he found himself wanting to have a small conversation with the woman that is standing before him.

"A resident. At Mass Kenmore. I actually start my shift in a few hours." She says still not sure of how to continue speaking without stuttering.

Casey what did your brother tell you about simping?

"Oh, that's nice, I guess." Ethan says and hangs the chart at the end of the bed. "I'm gonna check on other patients. You can stay here as long as you want."

Casey nods at this and smiles. "Thanks, Dr. Ramsey."

"You're welcome." Ethan stops by the door and faced her again. "You did well. Be confident next time, Rookie." He says as he turns to leave. And then he walked away, leaving Casey with a big smile on her face.

***

Note: Hello! This is my first attempt on writing a chaptered fic, this is also my first time to write something OH-related. I hope this is atleast okay to read;-; that's the end of chapter 1! I'll update as soon as I finish the next part!

Taglist: @mvalentine @anotherbeingsworld @starberrybliss @nikki-2406 @clowneryme @drariellevalentine @lillylavander20

[blueeyedheizer]

All Over Again - Matt (part 1)

WARNINGS: mention of a car accident, memory loss

A/N: Here it is ! The first part to my 3 or 4 parts fic. :) I know this trope is far from being original but I wanted to give it a go. Also this was originally supposed to be a one shot but the more I was writing, the more I got ideas so I decided to split it into a multiple part fics. let me know what you think xx

----

Matt was supposed to have been home from practice 2 hours ago. It was almost midnight and you were worried sick, pacing around the house and looking out the window every two minutes. You didn't think much of it at first and figured he had stayed in the studio a little longer to work on more songs, but after an hour you began to worry. You had tried calling his bandmates, but according to them he had left practice on time with everyone else.

“Did he seem upset during practice?” You questioned through the phone, biting your nails anxiously.

"It was a hard day, yeah. He kept on messing up his parts and was a bit more irritable than usual." James explains. You let out a deep, shaky sigh, one hand coming up to rest on your forehead and closing your eyes as you tried to keep your composure.

"Look James I, um- i'm sorry to bother you with this but Alex won't answer the phone either, do you think they might have gone to a pub together or something?"

"Alex went straight to his girlfriend's after practice. I'm sorry love, I really don't know about Matt. But don't worry about it too much, yeah? I'm sure he's fine. You know how he can be sometimes." you nod your head repeatedly, allowing a tear to slide down your cheek.

"Okay, yeah. Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks anyway James." you croak out before saying goodbye and ending the call. You had thought of calling Javed, but you knew it was already late and there was no way his dad would've let Matt in at such an hour. Your heart was beating insanely fast inside your chest and you were feeling like you could break down at any moment, the worst thoughts occupying your mind.

You eventually decided to lay down on the couch and play your favorite movie to try and get rid of the nagging voice in your head. Maybe he just went on a walk to clear his mind and stopped by a pub nearby. He might have met up with some friends there, which would explain why he was so late.

After a little while you heard the sound of the front door open. You immediately shot up, running over the door as Matt walked in. He didn't seem hurt at all, which was relieving. But you were still upset.

"Where the hell have you been?! Do you have any idea what time it is?!" he doesn't say anything and walks straight past you. "Matt, what's going on?!" you call after him as he makes his way to your shared bedroom.

"Why aren't you in bed?" he says coldly, completely ignoring your previous questions

"Because it's fucking midnight and my boyfriend who was supposed to be home two hours ago didn't show any sign of life until now!" you say and he scoffs. "I was worried sick, Matt!"

"I don't have a curfew to be home, Y/N. I've already had a shit day so if you could just fuck off and stop giving me unnecessary lectures I would appreciate it." you open your mouth to speak but close it again. You genuinely didn't know what to say anymore.

"Fine. Maybe I should leave and go have fun on my own somewhere then, since we don't have a curfew."

"Yeah, good. Leave. Maybe I'll finally get some peace and quiet." he spat.

With that, you turn around and walk out, grabbing your coat and car keys on your way. You storm out the front door, slamming it back close behind you and run straight to your car, silent tears leaving your eyes as you do.

You weren't sure how it happened.

Tears were blurring your vision as you drove to your best friend’s. You knew that she would gladly let you in, no matter what time of night you showed up, plus she wasn't the type to go to sleep early. You hated driving at night, but you needed to get some fresh air, you needed to get away from Matt. 

You eventually began to regret your decision of leaving as the fog covered your vision more than it already was with your tears. But it was too late to come back, and you still weren't ready to face him after what had just happened. He wanted to be alone, then he was going to get his alone time. Your hand gripped the wheel tightly as you wiped your cheeks and eyes furiously, but no matter how hard you tried to calm down and focus on the road, the tears would come back and blur your vision.

And before you had the chance to react to what was coming in front of you, you felt a violent collision, and your world went black.

Matt knew something was wrong the moment his dad burst into his room in a panic the next morning.

"Dad?! What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?!" he yelled.

It was barely 7am when he got a call from the hospital letting him know that you had been taken there after a car accident. He was in shock, barely able to let any words out. You were like a daughter to him, so the news were hard to swallow. All he did since he burst into the room was to blurt out your name along with barely coherent words between breathless pants.

"Dad? What is it? What's wrong with Y/N?!" Matt said, immediately jumping out of bed. He grabbed his clothes and put them on quickly, waiting for an answer.

"She got– she in an accident last night. It's bad." he managed to get out.

Matt's heart stopped beating for a moment as he tried to comprehend what he was being told. Everything around him seemed to have stopped as the events from yesterday flashed through his mind. He stared at his dad, speechless, his face suddenly draining of all color as his eyes filled with tears. He was suddenly hit by a wave of guilt and he felt the whole air being knocked out of him. His heartbeat picked up and the room soon felt too suffocating. He couldn't breathe, the room was spinning, his ears ringing.

His dad grabbed his face with both hands to keep him grounded him then pat his cheek slightly.

"Come on now, we have to go. She needs you, son." He said, keeping a steady gaze on him. Matt snapped out of his daze and stormed out of the room, his dad following closely. He grabbed the car keys on his way and they both headed to the hospital in a hurry. Of course Matt’s dad insisted on driving, knowing that his son was in no way able to focus on the road in this state.

By the time they got there, Matt's eyes and face were bright red from how much he had been crying. He was out the door before the car even came to a complete stop, rushing into the emergency section of the building.

He burst through the front doors and begun looking around, trying to find a nurse, a doctor or anyone that could tell him about your condition. A nurse came out of one of the many rooms and he rushed towards her, tears still streaming down his cheeks as he asked where you were.

"Could you tell me her name again?" she asked, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. He nodded and repeated, trying to keep it together. The nurse lead him to the reception, searched through her papers then looked up after a few seconds.

"She's in surgery right now so I can’t let you go see her just yet. We're doing the best we can to keep her alive, but from what I know she got into a pretty bad accident, and this kind of surgery requires hours and hours of work." she continues and he nods, trying not to completely break down in front of her. She gives him more details about the surgery before leading him to the waiting room where your family and some friends of yours were waiting.

three days later.

''It's been over half an an hour...'' Matt finally spoke up, breaking the silence as he paced anxiously around the waiting room. "Someone should be able to tell us something by now.''

''I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Matt." Javed answered softly in an attempt to comfort both himself and Matt. Matt sighed and nodded before he finally sat down in the space between James and Javed. No one was speaking. Everyone avoided eye contact, too busy being lost in their own thoughts, moving their legs anxiously. Matt however couldn't stay still, but no one could blame him. He had been staying with you every day since you got there, even though you weren't awake, and now that they finally had some news they wouldn't let him see you. Family first.

He fidgeted and bit his lips nervously, the worst thoughts constantly occupying his mind. He buried his face in his hands, more tears falling down his face. Needless to say, no one had ever seen him like this before. He looked extremely tired and sleep-deprived, and the guilt was eating him alive. Javed placed a comforting hand on his back.

"You need to stop blaming yourself, Matt. This is not your fault." he says. "She’s going to be okay."

“It is my fault, J. If I hadn’t come home so late and told her to leave...—” he chokes, opening his mouth before closing it again. "She went out because of me. She's here because of me. If she had died—" he starts, but James interrupts him.

"But she's alive, mate. That's all that matters right now. You can't take back what you said or did, but you still have time with her to make it up."

As he was about to stand up and start pacing around again, Matt's head shot up at the sound of footsteps coming towards the waiting room. In a matter of seconds he was on his feet and your mom was at the door with a small forced smile and wet cheeks, a nurse standing beside her.

''Miss Y/L/N is awake.'' the nurse said. "You can see her, but you all should know that she's showing signs of amnesia." everyone's face dropped as they took in the information. "We do not know whether it is permanent or temporary. She remembers her mother and her name but couldn't tell us today's date, whether it is day, month or year. I just want you all to be prepared in case she has a hard time remembering any of you, which could be a possibility." Everyone in the room nodded then started hugging each other to express a deep relief along with sorrow. After three days of constant fear and sleepless nights, you were awake. But then, there was the possibility of you not remembering them. Matt hugged your mom tightly before they all followed the nurse into your room. His heart started racing as he thought about all the things he wanted to say to you. He didn't think apologies would be enough.

He finally snapped out of his thoughts when he reached the door to your room, his heart aching at the sight of his girlfriend laying on a hospital bed.

You were slightly startled when the door to your room opened again, your nurse walking in along with a bunch of people you couldn't quite recognise as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Your entire body felt numb. You tried to sit further up, but your were immediately stopped by a striking pain coming from your ribs. You lifted your hand in an attempt to scratch your head but you were surprised to feel a bandage under your fingertips and see one wrapped around your wrist. Confused, you realized the upper part of your body was bandaged, but you couldn’t quite figure out why.

"Hello again, Y/N." your nurse smiled "Some people are here to see you. Could you tell me if you recognise any of them?"

Vision still blurry, you frowned and attempted to turn your head to the right. You let out a small groan, the movement triggering an ache.

"Take your time, there is no rush." the nurse says.

Then someone took a seat next to you and grabbed a hold of your hand that wasn't bandaged. You eventually managed to take a proper look at your surroundings, looking around yourself. Your mom was there, along with Javed.

"Um...well, there's mom again. And Javed." you spoke weakly. A small smile curved your lips when you saw him. You two had been friends since 6th grade. You then looked at the two boys behind him. "I don't think I know you." you spoke with a frown." James and Alex's faces dropped a little, but they were kind of expecting it. You weren't as close with them as you were with Javed, so you had fewer memories of them and more forgettable ones.

Then you met the other boy's eyes, the one sitting beside you.

You said nothing while staring at him before realising that he was holding onto your hand which you slowly pried away from him. Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. His nose, his hair, his lips. Then his eyes. You looked into them, trying to find any form of familiarity, but there was none. Why was he holding your hand?

"Y/N?" he says, his voice weak. You could tell he was fighting back tears. You frowned again, lips parting in confusion. You gave your mom a worried glance before looking back at him.

"I...I'm sorry but, am I supposed to know you?"

[jennsmischievousmind]

EXSOMNIS

CHAPTER 4 - Two birds, no stone

Exsomnis: Wakeful, vigilant

Summary: Fresh Doctor out of residency you didn’t expect Conyers to be this uneventful until everything happened at the same time. From the outset, an odd meeting with what seems like a steadfast Detective but it was only the beginning.

Notes: English is not my native language, I’m trying to get better at it, please be indulgent.

Based on the movie Prisoners by Denis Villeneuve (so I don’t own any of the OG characters) if you haven’t seen it, I recommend you do (maybe before reading) :) The story takes place before and through the event in the movie.

 Thanksgiving was around the corner, meaning you were short on staff at the hospital leaving you no time to spend at home. Erin and Rachel were at Rach’s parents, they had tried to convince you to come but family dinners were not your thing, even more with a family you practically don’t know.  

2 days before Thanksgiving you crossed paths with Detective Loki. Since last time you didn't really have time to meet, so you took a few minutes around a coffee to catch up. He noted that you were alone on Thanksgiving’s night so managed to invite you for dinner. 

 “Dr Y/L/N, I’m sorry but we need you to stay on shift tonight, we’re shorthanded.” The HR announced as you were taking your break. You cursed under your breath, the HR gave you an apologetic smile. Phone in hand, waiting for Loki to pick-up you hoped he was busy too, it would make it easier.

“Hey,” he answered, you heard rustling papers, he was surely at work, you huffed alleviate.

“Hi, uhm, I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it tonight. Got to stay at the hospital. Understaffed.” You announced at once, ripping off the bandage as fast as possible. He could understand, it’s kind of the same at the station. He inhaled on the other side of the phone.

“Duty is duty, don’t worry.”

“Come out next year, and we'll do it all over again ok?” you heard him chuckle

“Let’s do that but not next year.” He offered hopefull.

“Agreed, see you soon then.” You bid goodbyes wishing each other a happy Thanksgiving.

 Little did you know after your call he asked to stay on shit for the night.

  A few hours later, you were finally free from the Hospital but you frowned as soon as you put a foot outside. By the time you reached your car you were soaked, the heavy rain whipped your windshield, making driving difficult indeed it took you twice the time to head home. It was 2 am on your kitchen clock, you wondered if Loki was still up, you texted him not expecting an immediate answer so went to bed immediately.

You woke up around 9am, dragging your overly tired self to the coffee machine, checking your phone while the hot liquid filled the big cup. Rach and Erin had ranted about how Thanksgiving at Rach’s parents went horribly awkward. Erin had even sent a ‘rescue me’ video from Rach’s parents’ toilet in the group chat, you couldn’t help yourself to smile and blessed yourself for not going.

No answer from Loki, you felt this inescapable pang in your stomach when you find yourself led, in the blink of an eye, to question your own emotional life.

Then your phone buzzed.

“Busy, talk to you soon, sorry. Loki” you stayed silent reading the text multiple times, somehow relieved that he had answered but not quite sure of how to render the text. Trying to find something to say, you finally decided for an “Ok sure.”

You drink your coffee lost in your thoughts, heading to the living room. The news on TV blurting the Thanksgiving usual hazards: Snowy roads; traffic jams; accidents; lost items in turkeys...

“Yesterday in the usually quiet town of Conyers, Thanksgiving turned into a horrid day for two families. Two little girls disappeared in broad daylight. Soon one suspect was in custody, he was apparently driving an RV that was parked in the girls’ neighbourhood early in the day. He tried to run away with his vehicle when found at a gas station parking late last night. The two girls are still missing as we speak.”

“Damn it.” you shook your head sighing, what is wrong with people you thought while listening to the news and at the same time checking your sns.

“Detective Loki from the Conyers Department of Police has been appointed to the case.”

Raising your head from your phone, mouth agape at the TV, you rewind all the pieces of information in your mind. If you had known sooner you would have said something else in the text. Long minutes passed, during which you wondered if you should send him another message. The blinking cursor in the box "new message" seemed to became impatient until the buzz of a call made you jump. 

“Y/N, have you heard about ...!? A honk made you put the phone away from your ears. Only two words “Loki”, “abduction” were audible.

“Hello to you too, yes I’ve just heard, that’s awful!”

“Yeah, hi, definitely not good timing for you though!”

“Erin!” you scolded and heard Rachel do the same. 

“Okay okay, just trying to lighten the mood.” she apologized.

“Where are you by the way?” you turned the TV off.

“Traffic jams.” She sighed, another honk resonated in the phone, you heard Rachel swear at another driver.

“Tell me when you’re home. And ... we should stop the night’s run for now just in case.”

“I wish we had to stop for another reason.”

“Yeah, call me okay.”

“Yeah bye.”

Instead of the usual run, you met with the girls for board games, usually, it involved a bottle of wine and Rachel’s exquisite cuisine. 

“Okay, hear me out” she put her glass on the ground, you rolled your eyes. All night she had asked about Loki.

“What about your needs Y/N? I feel like you're waiting for him to finally give you some time of his, as you're not a priority.”

“I'm not a priority right now Erin.” You sipped on your wine. 

“You know what I mean. I am just afraid that you're making his needs overpass yours without taking care of how you feel in all of that.” Her hands making big gestures, you grabbed them.

“We’re not even a couple or something, calm down! you smiled, I'm not blinded by the guy, I know what I worth, what I deserve. And my needs, for now, are fine thank you.” You stifled a laugh at her frowning face. 

“I shouldn’t have pushed for something to happen between you two.” she said questioning her cupid skills

“Ok, you released her hands and continued, look at me back in Cleveland, the exams took over me, the internship at the hospital was a disaster and how many times did you present me a guy?” 

“Lots of times…” she mumbled

“Yeah, and you want to know why it never worked out?”

“They were assholes.” She grimaced

“Hm mostly yeah, but I wasn't ready to be in a relationship! My mind was elsewhere, I had no time to take care of my physical and mental health as much as I should have. It was a hard time, you witnessed it.”

She nodded admitted it.

“I’m fine now but I can't crash into his life like that and take his focus out of this case especially because I know it won’t work out since he is concentrating on his duty.” 

“I got it okay, but there will always be another case and did he text you or something …”

“I know but I like to think we'll have a moment of respite. And he’s not quite the texter but that’s fine by me, you know I’m not a good morning and good night's texts kind of person.”

She stared at you squinting her eyes, you mimicked her wondering.

“You really want the guy!” she caught you so off guard that you almost spit your wine.

“Miss the point by miles, you cough, but yeah let's say that.” You both cracked into laughter. She was still a bit concerned, but she got around in the end.

40hours after the abduction, no sign of Loki except on the news, thankfully you had lots of work at the hospital so you didn't have time to let your mind wander.

When you heard the indictment of the paedophile priest, you almost threw a tantrum in the break room.

“How the fuck that asshole is still in charge of a church, he is surrounded by children all the fucking day!” you screamed at the tv, scaring the surgeon next to you, some students looked at you from the lunch table. The ringtone coming from your pocket made you walk out and step outside on the emergency staircase allowing you to take some fresh air.

“Hi there..,”

“Hey, I'm sorry I didn't call sooner”

“No no, it's okay I've seen the news. I know you have a lot to do ... and the freaking priest ... I mean why is that guy still out there.”

“I don't know Y/N, I'm not a judge.” He answered with a tight voice.

“Right sorry, I jumped on you, it's just that..it's really upsetting.” you sighed rubbing your eyes.

A 2-seconds silence felt, giving you both opportunity to breathe in and change the subject.

“Are you all right?” You asked

“Tired mostly, he inhaled, I wish .. I could see you without feeling guilty .. but my mind is on the case..” 

“Hey hey, you shushed gently, it's okay, they are the priority here.”

“Why didn't we met at another time.” He said gravely.

“At least we've met, even though you had to be stabbed for it to happen.” He chuckled over the phone. “I have to go back, be careful out there.”

“You got my word.”

He hung up, you took a big breath of fresh air before stepping back in the building, thinking of what he said. What would have happened if you had met at another time?

Erin bumped into you. 

“The community is organizing a vigil in front of the Birch’s house tomorrow night, she handed you a flyer, you’re coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll drop by your place so we can go together.” she nodded and you sighed looking at the face of the two little girls on the handout.

Chapter 5: Respect all, trust few soon