#Okay? Or well actually good. Ive had medication that made me 'okay' bc they made me numb.

[mrfoox]

Uh, I got asked to 'rank' my life/how I feel about it and I... Am suprised I gave it an 7/10 without much thought. I'm one who usually rank anything like that 4/10 at best

[edna-skiffens]

The Best Medicine

Summary: You are in the hospital, but you can never sleep in hospitals. Good thing you have a very attractive night shift nurse who is willing to help out.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: hospitals, light med talk, bad medical writing, fluff

A/N: Please ignore the plot holes or the fact that this isn’t the most realistic and also I know this isn’t how discharge works at the hospital.. It’s called fiction for a reason, darling. Also, I left the reason the reader is in the hospital open ended bc some of us may have medical conditions/reasons that we can attach to this, but if not I tried to keep it vague enough on purpose so that you can imagine whatever. Also if you like Nurse!Tom and have requests for him lmk bc i’m happy to write for him.

Toss and turn. Toss and turn. The routine was getting old. This was your third night in the hospital and sleep just wasn’t coming to you.

Maybe it was the medicine they had you on. Maybe it was the constant symphony of sounds and people passing in the hallway. Maybe it was because you weren’t at home in your own bed.

Maybe it was just because you were in the hospital.

You couldn’t be sure. What you were sure of is that you weren’t falling asleep anytime soon.

Feeling another presence in the room, you looked from the ceiling to the doorway where you saw Tom, one of the night shift nurses, standing cautiously.

“I didn’t wake you did I?” He asked as he eased his way inside.

“Nope.”

“So no sleep again, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Sorry darling. Let’s go ahead and get these vitals over with.” He took your blood pressure, oxygen levels, temperature and wrote it down in your chart. Putting the clipboard back on its hook at the end of the bed, he looked up at your tired face. “Okay. So now about that sleep. What do you think will help?”

“Not being in the hospital.”

He chuckled lightly while walking back towards your bedside.

“I know. You hate it here. You’ve made that very clear and I try not to take too much offense to it.” You let out a slight laugh and held back the fact that he was the best part of this whole experience. He almost made it worth it. “I’m sorry we can’t give you any sleeping medication. Do you think it’ll help if I talk to you?”

“You mean tell me bedtime stories?” You couldn’t help but tease him at the adorable suggestion, though it sent a swarm of butterflies off in your stomach.

“I was thinking more like bore you ‘till you fell asleep. But whatever works.”

“You’re the nurse. If you think it’ll help.” You both sat there smirking at each other for a moment. Something unspoken floating in the air between you two.

“Well, I need to finish my round of vitals first. I’ll come check on you when I’m done and if you’re still up we’ll see about those stories.”

“I’ll be here.”

About fifteen or twenty minutes later you heard a light tap on your door followed by “Still awake?”

“Always.”

“You up for a chat?” Tom asked as he made his way to the stool then rolled slightly closer to your bed.

“Got nothing better to do.” You teased again.

“Okay. Well you should probably lay down.”

“Oh. It’s going to be that kind of story, huh?” His laugh was so beautiful and you were happy you were the cause of it.

“No.” He corrected in between laughs “The goal is to get you to sleep. So sitting up won’t help.”

“Right. Right.”

“Well.. anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”

“Why did you choose to become a nurse?”

“Ahhh. Good question. So I actually went to an art school.” You couldn’t help the brief expression of surprise that crossed your face. “I know. Shocking. I did training specifically in dance and gymnastics and I loved it.”

“Wait, so what happened?” You asked, turning on your side to face him more comfortably.

“Well one day we were rehearsing for a show and I fell. Ruined my knee. Had to do physical therapy for months. I tried to get back into it, but it just wasn’t the same. However, through that process I learned a lot about medicine and the health side of things. It really turned me on to it. And when my Plan A got a bit messed up I thought ‘hey, this could work’. So far it’s treated me pretty well.”

You smiled at Tom, admiring his passion for his career and the determination he had to keep pushing after his accident. You enjoyed hearing him talk about it too. If you didn’t know any better you would say it was helping you relax.

“My story that boring?”

“Obviously.”

“Your sarcasm has no end.”

“Oh… goodness.. you thought that was sarcasm?”

Tom only laughed and shook his head the way he often did with you.

You may just have been his patient and he may have just been your nurse, but you both bonded. He kept you company and gave you comfort. In return, you kept him entertained during the quiet night shifts.

“I’m not going to sleep. I'm just resting my eyes. But still listening.” You told him as you nestled further into the hospital bed, trying to find a position that would make it comfortable.

“Okay, darling.” He grinned at you.

“Tell me more. What kind of-” You had to stop to yawn, “What kind of art stuff did you do?”

“Oh. Well, I was in a few musicals. I really enjoyed dancing. I did ballet ever since I was young and I love the control I have over my body. The tricks I can do with gymnastics or the turns and leaps. I mean I can’t do them to that level anymore, but I try to stay active.” He glanced up and noticed you hadn’t moved, “Are you still with me?”

“Mhm.” You barely respond.

“Okay. Well it was a performing arts school so we really were trained in many areas. We had classes in acting, singing, dancing, all of it. It was a lot of fun and I met my best friends there.”

Tom began telling stories about his time at school. Before he knew it, he lost himself and track of time. He looked back at you, quiet and still.

“Y/N?” You were finally asleep. “Goodnight, darling.” He whispered as he gently made his exit.

Because Tom worked the night shift, you never saw him when you woke in the morning. Instead, Tanya, a sweet nurse that felt like a big sister, or Linda, Nurse Ratched in the flesh, came in for morning vitals and meds.

You counted down the days until your release. Life in the hospital was pretty uneventful with the limit on visitors and limited activity. There’s only so many sitcoms one can take in a given timespan. The only thing that you really looked forward to each night was when Tom clocked in.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Tom.” You would smile at each other.

“How are we feeling today?”

“Better. Ready to get out of here.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you are feeling better and still ready to jailbreak.” He smiled while writing something down on your chart. “They should be bringing up your dinner tray soon and then I’ll bring by your evening meds after that.”

“Okay.”

“If you need me you know what to do.” He called to you before walking out the door.

You were disappointed when Shelley brought your evening meds by later. She was a nice enough nurse. She just wasn’t Tom.

You’d grown accustomed to mainly having him as your nurse during the evening shift. At first you weren’t sure if it was coincidence or on purpose, but after a few nights of staying up and talking, you grew closer to him. You saw less of the other nursing staff and more of Tom.

You tried not to build anything up in your head. You were sure everything he was doing was in his job description and a part of being a good nurse.

He would sneak you extra pudding cups from the cafeteria and bring you an extra heated blanket because you could never stay warm. If you needed a new IV, he held your hand to ease the anxiety. He kept you company and made you feel less alone in such a sterile and intimidating place. And when he noticed you had trouble sleeping he chose to sit with you to help you fall asleep. You couldn’t help the butterflies that built in your stomach.

It became a sort of routine. He checked on you during evening vitals, even if someone else was doing them, and you were always still awake. He would then come and sit with you and chat for a bit, telling you different stories until you eventually fell asleep.

Some nights when you were extra restless he would help you walk the halls.

“The doctors have to see you’re stable enough before you can be discharged. Plus, maybe it’ll tire you out.” He suggested.

He would help get your IV pole ready so you could walk with it. He helped you into your slippers and eased you out of bed after passing you your robe.

Walking the hall slowly, Tom knew he had to remain professional, yet he found a few excuses to graze his hand across your back to ‘steady you’ when you turned corners or he thought you were looking tired.

“It might take me a while to get back to my usual jogs in the park, huh?” You laughed in spite of yourself.

“You’ll get there. Baby steps.” He encouraged, as you turned around the Nurse’s Station. You missed the faces the other night shift nurses were giving you both, but Tom was sure to subtly flick them off. “So, do you like running?” He asked as you headed back towards your room.

Throughout your late nights together, he told you of his three younger brothers and his dog named Tessa. You spoke about what you would do when you were out of hospital. He talked about his friends and flatmates and the adventures they had. He told you many stories, but each morning when you woke up he was clocked out and the day shift nurses were there.

Tonight was your last night. You’re set to be discharged tomorrow and while you are ecstatic to go home, you’re going to miss one thing about this place.

“I bet you’re too excited to sleep tonight. I don’t know if my stories will even help.” Tom said as he sat down next to you.

You smiled up to him sweetly.

“What are you looking forward to the most once you get out of here?”

“Sleeping in my own bed.”

“Well that’s no surprise.” Tom laughed, a contagious sound making you giggle as well. “Isn’t there anything you’ll miss about this place?”

“Yeah.” He smiled “There’s one thing.”

“What’s that?” He asks.

“The pudding cups.”

“Ahh the pudding cups of course.” You giggled while fiddling with the IV line.

“They just don’t taste the same in the outside world.”

His smile grew wider as you giggled.

“No, but really. As much as I give this place grief and say I’m ready to get out of here - which I am,” You gave him a pointed look to which he held his hands up in mock surrender, fully believing you, “it hasn’t been too terribly awful I guess.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad we could make your stay not too terribly awful.. I guess.” He teased. “Do you have anything exciting to look forward to once you’re a free woman?”

“Nothing huge planned, really. The doctors did say to take it easy.”

“That’d be wise.”

“Yeah. I’ll just lay low for a while. My sister said she may try to come visit me though so that would be nice.”

“Oh that would be nice. She’s your older sister right?”

“Right. She moved away last year to be closer to her boyfriend.”

“Ah. Do you like him?”

“Sorry?”

“This boyfriend. Do you like him?”

“He’s alright, I suppose. He makes her happy.” Tom nodded along.

“And do you have a boyfriend that makes you happy?”

“N-No. No I don’t. Not at the moment.” You began fiddling with the IV cord again.

“No boyfriend or not a boyfriend that makes you happy?” He asked.

“Neither.”

“Well that’s a shame.” If the heart monitor was connected you would’ve been screwed. “I just mean someone needs to look after you once you get home. I hope this sister comes through for a visit. You’ve got to take it easy.”

“Oh I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will be.” He smiled.

“How has your shift been tonight? Busy?” You asked, fighting back a yawn.

“A bit busier than usual. There was a slight emergency earlier which is why Shelley handed out meds tonight. Sorry I didn’t come around.”

“It’s alright. I know you have other patients.”

“Yeah, but none like you.” You were sure he said that to all of his patients. After all, you’ve heard similar lines ever since you went to the pediatrician as a child. But it still gave you butterflies.

“Are you getting sleepy?”

“A little. But it’s okay.” He gave you a pointed look but continued to talk anyway. “It’s the last night. One final request for storytime. Make it a good one.”

You thought for a moment before asking your question.

“Do you ever wish that life turned out differently? That you never had your accident and you could’ve followed your dreams to be a dancer?” You asked while turning on your side and getting more comfortable.

“Sometimes. At least, I used to. But I think I’ve accepted it now. And I really can’t see myself doing anything but this.” You nodded taking in his answer “I look at it this way. If it wasn’t for my injury then I never would’ve changed my career path and found my love for medicine. I never would have made so many of the friends I’ve made or the memories I’ve made. I never would have met you.” He finishes with a sweet smile.

“That’s a very positive way of looking at it.” You told him. “Be honest, are you a therapist during the day?” He laughed out loud.

“No. I’m not. I guess I’m a big believer in ‘everything happens for a reason’.” You nodded while covering a yawn.

“So I’ve been curious to ask you,” He began, “Do you usually have this much trouble sleeping? Because you can get help for that you know?” You smiled at him.

“What? I thought a night nurse talking to you was the cure?” Tom smirked and shook his head. “I’m kidding. No, I normally don’t. It’s just the stiff sheets and hospital sounds I think.”

“Darn hospital.” He rolled his eyes and joked. “So this time tomorrow you’ll be sound asleep in your own bed then?”

You knew it was meant to be a happy statement, but you were a little sad at the thought of not having any more late night chats with Tom.

“Yes. Thank God.” You forced a smile.

You felt another yawn coming and tried to hold it back. It was already past the usual time that you fell asleep.

Tom could tell you were exhausted so he launched into a story from nursing school, hoping to lull you to sleep.

You yawned your way through listening, trying to soak up every last moment with Tom. In the morning he wouldn’t be here. You’d leave and likely never see him again.

When he finished, your eyes were half open and he wondered how you were still awake. Or maybe why.

“Why are you fighting it? The point is to sleep. Give in.” He told you gently after another yawn.

You looked up at him, half asleep and rubbing your eyes, not finding the confidence to tell him the true reason you were trying to stay awake.

“I’m happy right now.”

He smiled down at you.

“I am too. But you need your sleep, darling.” You weren’t sure what to say and you didn’t have much energy left in you anyway. “How about this. I’ve probably been in here too long as it is. Let me go check in at the Nurse’s Station and then I’ll come back and check on you soon and see if you’re still awake okay?”

The thought that he was leaving gave you a sad feeling in your stomach. You tried to remind yourself that he was just your nurse. Nothing more.

“Okay.” You smiled at him, sleepily, while settling further into the bed.

He stood up and instead of walking towards the door he walked closer to you. He grabbed the thin, white hospital blanket and pulled it closer around your shoulders.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered before he walked to the door.

“Tom?” You called out just before he opened it. He turned around with an expectant look, “Thanks for everything.”

Even though the room was dim you could see his smile.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

You don’t remember much after that. You don’t know if Tom came back to check on you. You just remember falling asleep with a smile on your face.

When you woke up the following morning it felt like any other morning in the hospital.

The hallways were much louder. Beeps, chatter, and phones were constant. The lights were brighter.

But you were quickly reminded that it wasn’t any other morning. You were going home today.

The door creaked open and Tanya, one of your regular daytime nurses, poked her head in.

“Oh good you’re up.” She made her way inside and over to the gloves. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. Thanks.” She gave you a smile, something hidden behind it.

“I’m sure.” She said quietly to herself. You gave her a questioning look. “Oh I just mean I’m sure you’re excited to get out of here.”

You nodded as she took your vitals one last time.

“Everything looks good. What do you say about getting this IV out?”

“I say that sounds amazing.”

She took it out and bandaged up your arm while informing you of how the morning would go.

“Dr. McCoy is making rounds now then he’ll be by soon to go over your discharge. You can get dressed whenever you’re ready. If you need help, buzz me. You’ll still have a breakfast tray come, but you don’t have to eat it.” She gave you a wink while taking off her gloves.

“Thanks Tanya.”

“Of course, sweetie. And in case I don’t see you before you go, you’ve been a wonderful patient. Take care of yourself.” You smiled at her as she left you to change into some leggings and a sweatshirt.

You were packing your remaining things into your bag when your doctor walked in.

“Y/N! How are we doing today?”

“We’re doing great because we’re going home.” You smiled while taking a seat to rest for a few minutes.

“I know you’re excited.” He laughed before explaining the conditions of your discharge. You had medicines to take, a follow up appointment, and strict instructions to rest for the next few weeks. After signing some forms he left you with a stack of papers. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”

“Yeah my neighbor should be here within an hour.”

“Sounds good. Don’t hesitate to call us or come back in if you have any trouble or questions.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

A few minutes after he left a nurse brought in your breakfast tray. There wasn’t much of a point for it but since your discharge wasn’t technically until 10:30 am you were still a patient during breakfast.

You took the pudding cup that you requested with every meal off the tray before sliding it away. Smiling to yourself, you tucked it away in your bag. All you had left to do was wait for 10:30.

Tanya came in to check on you again and told you to buzz the Nurse’s Station when you knew your ride was here. At 10:27 you had a text from your neighbor that they were out front in the pickup zone. So you hit the call button.

“Yes?” Linda, the scariest dayshift nurse, answered.

“Um hi. Tanya told me to buzz in when my ride was here so I could go down.”

“Okay we’ll be right in.”

Not even a minute later you heard your door open. Expecting to see Tanya or maybe even Linda you looked up.

An audible gasp left your lips when Tom stood in your doorway with a wheelchair.

“I hear someone needs a ride?” He smiled as he made his way closer to the bed.

“Tom. What are you still doing here?”

“I pulled a double.” You wanted to ask why, but decided against it. You were still in a little bit of shock from seeing him again. “If you’d rather I can go get Linda to walk you down?” He pointed back towards your door.

“No! No.. I’m just surprised s’all.”

“Well come on. I thought you’d be running out of this place once the clock hit 10:30.” Glancing up you saw it was now 10:34. Your neighbor is probably tired of waiting already.

You grabbed your discharge papers and reached for your bag when you heard, “I got it.” Smiling at him, you sat down in the wheelchair. Tom placed the bag around his shoulder and kicked the brakes off the chair. “Ready?” You nodded up at him.

He rolled you out of the room that felt so small for a final time. You passed the Nurse’s Station and waved bye to the staff. He turned by the elevators and when you looked up at him in question, he read your mind. Looked down at you he said, “We’re taking the staff elevators.”

When you made it there he hit the button, turning you around and backing you in once the doors opened. He hit the button for the Lobby and leaned up against the wall of the elevator, briefly glancing at you, as you rode down together.

“Well you made it. You’re a free woman.” He smiled shyly.

“Yippee.” He met your eyes for a moment before looking back to the floor. The dynamics felt different. It wasn’t like your late night talks together.

“Listen, Y/N.” Tom began as he stood up from the wall and faced you. He was about to continue when the elevator ding cut him off, signaling you had reached your destination.

Maybe that was what was different. You had reached your destination.

You had a fun time talking with Tom and entertaining each other when you were both up late at night. He was fun to get to know and you enjoyed having someone care for you. He was easy to banter with and certainly easy on the eyes. But your time at the hospital was up. You knew it would be eventually. You wanted it to be.

Tom was a nurse. He was just doing his job. He was helping take care of you. He was being nice. He was trying to make your stay more comfortable. There was nothing to read into.

Your time being his patient was up and your time with him was up.

You tried to remain realistic, but the sadness still crept up as he rolled you closer to the door.

Once outside, you saw your neighbor exit the car and wave you over. Tom steered in the direction and slowed before rolling to a stop and hitting the brake locks on the wheels.

“Hi, I’m Taylor.”

“Tom.” They shook hands as Tom passed off your bag for Taylor to put in the backseat.

“I’m sorry for the circumstances, but it really has been a pleasure having you as a patient and getting to know you, Y/N.” Tom admitted as he walked around to face you. He grabbed the papers from your lap. “Take care of yourself, okay?” You had shared many smiles with Tom, but this one felt sadder.

“I will. Thank you for everything, Tom. I mean it.” You reached up and squeezed his hand. He gave you a light squeeze back while smiling down at you. Taylor returned from the backseat of the car and Tom turned to them.

“These are her important papers about follow up appointments, medications, what to do at home, all of that so please make sure she doesn’t lose any of them.” He emphasized the point.

“Got it. Thanks.” Taylor held onto the stack while Tom turned back to you.

“If I can’t handle a few papers on my own, then maybe I shouldn’t be going home yet, Tom.” You laughed.

“I know, I just wanted to make sure they made it home with you.” He walked closer. “You ready to get in?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. He helped you up, supporting you just as a precaution. Once seated, you took a moment to catch your breath as you pulled the seatbelt down. He met your hand, taking it from you to buckle you in.

“You good?”

You nodded with a smile, “Just a little tired. No biggie.”

He looked you over before returning your smile, though his didn’t quite reach his eyes, “If you need us, call us. Otherwise go home and rest.”

This was it. This was goodbye.

“Thanks, Tom.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He shut the door. He walked back to the wheelchair, released the brake locks and headed inside. He looked back only when your car was driving away.

“Here’s those papers that are so important.” Taylor handed you the stack after they got in.

“Thanks.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks.” You felt them looking at you as they joined traffic.

“You sure? You sound like you feel awful.”

You try to remind yourself to forget the sweet and attractive nurse and start moving forward.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” You decide to distract yourself by reading through your discharge paperwork, when something caught your eye. On top was a sticky note with the hospital’s letterhead. You were sure it wasn’t there before. Looking closer it read,

Y/N,

In case you need someone to talk to when you can’t sleep.

555-5555

P. S. I have a connection to some pretty good pudding cups too.

Tom

The smile that grew on your face was undeniable. All the feelings you suppressed came flooding in. He wasn’t just being nice. He actually liked you.

One thing you knew for sure was that even though you would be in your own bed tonight, you still would be up, talking to a very special nurse.

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[starglow-xx]

retrouvaille

nakajima atsushi x f!reader

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: hurt comfort, fluff

warning! : mentions of abuse

type of work: one-shot

synopsis: he left the orphanage, and that meant he had to leave you too; fortunately, this time, it seems like the universe was on your side

a/n: this is kinda self indulgent bc ive been feeling kinda down lately...?? and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now and i havent posted in a while so killing three birds w/ one stone ig

the word retrouvaille is a french noun...

The moment you stepped foot into the armed detective agency, heterochromia eyes met your (e/c) ones.

You notice several agents talking and walking over to assist you, but you drown them out only having focus on the gray haired male ten feet away from you.

Said male takes a small step forward with uncertainty and disbelief laced in his voice.

“(y-y/n)...?” 

At the sound of your name, your eyes immediately begin to water and with pure relief in your voice, you softly sob his name; the name of the boy who comforted you when you were both still in that wretched place.

“Atsushi...”

With all hesitation gone, Atsushi runs over to you shoving through his surprised and confused coworkers and wraps his arms tightly around you.

The force of the hug causes the both of you to stumble and harshly crash to the ground beneath you.

But the two of you didn’t care.

In his arms was a person Atsushi thought he’d never be able to see again.

In his arms was the same girl who snuck him food from the kitchens, the girl who stole medical supplies from the infirmary to treat his wounds, to take care of him when he was sick, and the girl who received punishment after punishment for insisting on staying with him inside his damn cell.

You gave him happiness in place where he should’ve never been able to receive it.

As if he ever felt like he deserved it in the first place.

You’re too good for him, but yet you still chose him.

You, his sweet and kind, his so very kind, and so very beautiful girlfriend, chose him, the cursed, good for nothing orphan.

The orphanage staff treated you considerably better before the two of you were acquainted, so Atsushi knew he was the problem. That he was the reason why tears would fall onto your beautiful face, why bruises and scars would litter your arms and legs, and why the staff would call you awful, degrading nicknames about you and or your virtue.

He had always thought that he wasn’t good for you, that he didn’t deserve you, that you could do better, but you stayed by his side regardless of his fears and insecurities, and provided him the strength and comfort he had always been deprived of.

And to his very surprise, he found that you found your own strength and comfort in him.

So he knew that you must of cried for weeks after he was kicked out, that you must’ve been devastated to wake up one morning only to learn that he was gone without a trace.

There wasn’t a single day that he never thought of you.

Atsushi wanted to go back for you, he really did; he wanted to storm into the orphanage with members of the armed detective agency, his new family, right at his tail before eventually reuniting with you.

But he didn’t do that.

Ultimately, he chose to leave you out of the mess that came with his job knowing that you would be eventually targeted and used against him if anyone found out about what he had with you.

So he kept quiet.

No mafioso, government agent, foreign organization, nor agency member had a clue about your connection with him, much less your existence.

He told himself that when things have calmed down by a considerable amount, he would go back and get you, with or without the agency backing him up.

Unfortunately, he knew that time of peace was far from the present.

But to see you, in your beautiful glory, standing at the threshold of the agency? 

His original plan to keep you away from Yokohoma flew out the damn window. 

At the sight of you, his heart did backflips and his legs almost gave out. 

Ignoring the jelly feeling in his legs and the loud pounding of his heart, he raced around the desks and his coworkers—nearly fully crashing into Dazai in the process—to once more engulf you into his arms.

As for you?

When you saw him, you felt like you were going to pass out.

Your legs grew weak, your entire body was shaking, and tears started to fall down your face.

He was here.

He was safe and he was alive.

You mourned his abrupt disappearance from the orphanage and spent most of your time worrying about his well being.

The staff thought you were pathetic, that you sulked and cried over someone who they thought should disappear off the face of the earth.

They could insult and beat you all you want, but you drew the line when it came to Atsushi.

Finally having enough of everything, you planned your escape.

You were patient; you never jumped the gun nor gave anything away. You planned everything to the very last, minute detail, and after a few more months of abuse and waiting, you put your plan into action and left in the dead of night.

Thankfully, a kind old couple took you after you had collapsed in the streets. You worked job after job after job to return everything they had spent on your behalf even after they had told you not to worry about it.

And after another few weeks, you finally caught wind of your lost boyfriend tracking him down to Yokohoma through an old newspaper article.

Knowing your boyfriend, and yourself, you knew that tears would easily escape both of your eyes due to the long duration of your separation, but you weren’t expecting to find yourself crashing onto the floors of the armed detective agency curtesy of Atsushi. 

But, you wouldn’t have it any other way because in your arms was the boy who gave you comfort during the most darkest days in the orphanage, the boy who laid you in his lap or on his stomach stroking your hair so you would fall asleep, and the boy who often threw himself in front of you so you would remain unharmed.

You choked on your sobs as you tightened your own hold on him and they gradually grew louder as you buried your face into the shoulder of his white button up.

Through his own choked sobs and teary eyes, Atsushi gently maneuvered the two of you so that you would be lying on his stomach—a familiar position the two of you would lay in back in the orphanage.

He gently stroked his fingers through your hair and softly rubbed your back as he whispered the familiar sweet nothings into your ears.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay...”

“I’m here, just let it all out..”

Overwhelmed with your emotions, his sweet words only started to make you cry more.

You’ve missed him so much.

Your tears easily soaked his both his shirt and his neck, and you tried to speak only for you to choke up. Atsushi simply just started to shush you—as you would to a baby—and placed a kiss to your forehead as he continued to comfortingly stroke your hair and rub your back.

With the both of you off into your own little world, a world consisting only of the two of you, reactions and looks from the Armed Detective Agency went unnoticed.

It didn’t take long for them to realize the kind of relationship you and Atsushi had.

But what surprised them was Atsushi’s behavior.

The young adult they knew tended to be unsure of everything, including himself, and stammered whenever he was nervous.

But the young adult currently in front of them had this new aura of maturity; he didn’t hesitate to touch you or to comfort you, and for the first time they’ve seen in a while, he was sure of himself; he wasn’t nervous at all.

With the amount of comfortability Atsushi had around you, and the tender, loving care he showered you in, it was clear that you certainly were someone special to their tiger.

Your sobs slowly turned to small hiccups, and Atsushi’s face turned to one of pure tranquility and content, having his lover back in his arms.

Although having calmed down, what Atsushi said to you next made you want to start bawling all over again.

“I’m sorry I left you, and I promise I didn’t forget about you,” he whispered softly, “I thought of you every day. I still do. The thought of being able to see you again is what kept me going.”

You buried yourself further into his shoulder as you gripped his white button up in your hands.

“And thanks to the armed detective agency, I’m stronger now. I won’t let anybody hurt you, not anymore. That, I promise you.”

Actually taking a look up from you, Atsushi ended up locking eyes with Dazai, who had a gentle look on his face.

His senior only closed his eyes, tilted his head down softly, and lightly chuckled before opening his brown eyes once more, giving Atsushi a look of approval.

The gray haired teen’s eyes widened slightly as he looked around the room only to be met with similar looks of approval and gentleness from his seniors and coworkers.

He felt his eyes tear up again, but instead let out a relieved sigh as he tightened his hold on you slightly.

“Hey Atsushi...” you softly murmured.

Equally as soft, he answered, “Yes (y/n)?”

“...I love you...”

Your lover smiled before placing another kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you too (y/n)”

At last, the girl he loved was back in his arms, and the boy you loved was back within your reach.

And neither of you were ever going to let each other go again.

and it means, the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation, a rediscovery

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

[lumberjackloverboy-moved]

Hi emil, I've got bipolar II and am just getting back on medication for the depressive symptoms. I'm honestly pretty scared about it because I know my symptoms will get worse before they get better, but I've taken some precautionary measures to ensure I at least have food in my fridge already ready to be heated up, and consumed. Was wondering if you had any advice, or stuff like that for me in this time.

firstly, i am so proud of you for going back on your meds! and while im sure you know this, remember that it takes more than medication to reach a stable part in life, therapy is so, so useful. good job on the precautionary measures! that shows a lot of understand and self-awareness of your mind and body, which you should be proud of. 

so my biggest advice for mood disorders and depression is to keep a schedule. routine is medically proven to be so, so helpful for getting through depressive swings, and a steadily kept sleep schedule is important as well. make sure you eat at the same time and sleep the same amount each day. it’s okay if you mess up, but routine will help so, so much. one of the first things i learned when hospitalized actually 

if possible, exercise. go for a walk and get some fresh air. getting your heart pumping helps with hazy thoughts and vitamin d deficiency makes depression worse. make your bed each morning, if you can. i always try to make my bed when depressed bc then i can look at myself at night and go “today may be bad, but i did one thing right. i made my bed”. 

make a list of safety people you know you can talk to and try to reach out to at least one of them fairly often. it helps you remember that you are not alone and also helps avoid isolating and catastrophizing. set a timer to take your meds-- if you’re like me, then forgetting meds while depressed might be a problem. 

remind yourself that difficulty with hygiene is understandable and nothing to be ashamed of, but helping to break down tasks sometimes helps. if you cant brush your teeth, wet your finger or put toothpaste on it and use that instead. if you can’t shower, wipe yourself down with a washcloth or make up wipe. embrace the small victories. 

these are some of the big things ive learned from therapy/the hospital, but ill add more as i remember them. im proud of you. im here if you need anything at all. 

[fmdyuanjunarchive]

► kryptonite.

 dates: 1 august 2021 mentions of: @fmdhyunsoo who forever suffer with his idiot boyfriend word count: 1070 words warnings: hospitalization, breathing problems, illness, injury, needles/ivs, mentions of car accidents, health negligence  details:  yuanjun knocks the fuck out in the middle of one of charm’s concerts (backstage at least, thank god) because oopsie... maybe he’s been harbouring a little lung infection, happens to the best of us right? spoiler alert: bc ent is not very happy with him. (no managers were harmed in the process of writing this, tho the poor woman does deserve a raise)

 yuanjun fucking hated hospitals.

they were sterile and stuffy and the doctors always looked at him with a little bit too much pity for his own comfort.

also, he always kind of felt like death warmed over laying in a hospital bed.

last time, his knee had been tightly strapped in, a couple of gashes across his face.

this time, he was burning up with a high fever, his head pounding from hitting it on the side of a couch an hour or so early when he had passed out in the backstage area in the middle of one of charm’s concerts.

not his finest movement.

he couldn’t understand what the nurses that had come and gone so far had been saying, his japanese wasn’t good for that, but they did seem to feel very bad for him.

his manager, sitting by the side of his bed with her arms crossed over one another and a stony expression on her face, didn’t seem to share that sentiment.

she had been, previously, yuanjun did remember how worried and distraught had when they had first wheeled him into the hospital. his memories were a bit murky, mainly because his head had been spinning and throbbing significantly more than it did now and he was a little delirious on his high fever but he had been able to discern her concern well.

now however, some time later with yuanjun in a significant better state (mainly thanks to being on oxygen and the iv-drip in his hand saving him from the brink of dehydration) most of her concern had faded into anger instead.

yuanjun guessed it had something to do with the diagnose he’d been given.

“how long yuanjun?” she asked, breaking the tense silence.

“i swear i was fine this morning! it just- happened as the day progressed i guess.” he shrugged, shrinking further into his bedsheets at her sharp tone of voice. that was a big fat lie by the way, yuanjun had been feeling unwell for much longer by now but he wouldn’t admit to that.

“do not bullshit me right now xiao yuanjun. you have a lung infection, one you’ve been lugging around for god knows how long! do you have any idea how dangerous that is! especially with your-”

“don’t-” yuanjun flinched, knowing damn well what was coming. “don’t say it. i don’t want to hear it- don’t make this-”

his manager didn’t seem to care much for his protest.

“especially with your health problems.”

“this isn’t about that!” he protested, chest puffing up in anger, his words already getting breathy, even with the oxygen tube still in his nose, he wasn’t really in a position to get this fed up. and fed up he was, his blood was boiling. if there was one thing yuanjun hated, it was getting lectured about what he was or wasn’t supposed to do for his health.

“it is! you passed out in the middle of a concert! you’re in the god damn hospital with a serious fever and a lung infection! how long have you been walking around with this yuanjun? answer me.” his manager had always been chosen on her ability to not fold for his nonsense, she was putting her foot down and yuanjun knew he couldn’t chat his way around this one.

“i dunno, a week, maybe two? it wasn’t this bad the entire time okay! i figured i’d just- sit the tour out and i could take a break then-” he shrugged, hidden away into the blankets at this point.

“two weeks? you’ve been feeling this coming on for two weeks? and you didn’t say a word? are you actually insane!?” his manager fumed. “how did you even pull that off? how did hyunsoo not notice he’s your-” boyfriend “-roommate.”

yuanjun shrugged again, a little more deflatedly, deciding to omit answering all together. truth been told, it had been a painstaking effort, a lot of work going into dodging his boyfriend catching the worst of his health and downplaying it whenever hyunsoo had commented on it.

“forget about it i don’t want to know. either way you got what you wanted, you’re not finishing the god damn tour.”

“what!? you can’t do that! it’s only two more dates! i can finish the tour!” yuanjun protested fiery, wanting to press himself upright in his bed but not quiet finding the strength needed. that surely didn’t help his case.

“none of that. you’re in no state to perform and even if you were, consider this your punishment. if it were up to me you would be put on hiatus until you learned your god damn lesson for once but bc won’t let me do that, it would cost them too much money. for now, you’re on two weeks of mandatory bed rest, after that we’ll see if you’re in any position to go back to work.”

bed rest. the bane of yuanjun’s existence. the last time he had been on bed rest had been after his car accident and those weeks had easily been the worst of his life. yuanjun wasn’t made to sit still and do nothing, the boredom had been like an itch under his skin and together with the stress and anxiety, he’d been an absolute mess for the entirety of it. he didn’t need a repeat of that.

“fine, whatever.” he huffed off-handedly.

but that wasn’t all.

“i wasn’t done yet. as you seem to be unable to take care of yourself like an actual adult, bc is upping your supervision. bi-weekly doctor’s visits, i will bring you there and back myself and do not for a second think i will hesitate to drag you if needed. i’ll also be checking if you’re taking your medication, you’re not fooling anyone with pretending that you are and you will have an inhaler on you at all times. am i clear?”

“you can’t do that!” yuanjun tried to protest once more. though at this point, it was clear he was fighting a losing battle, one he was too tired to keep fighting.

“i can yuanjun, and i am. and for the love of god you better take this stuff serious because bc isn’t willing to put up with much more. you’ve made it clear that you’re not capable of taking this responsibility yourself. if you want to act like a child, i will treat you like one.”

[petewentzisblack1312]

Hi… I wanted to ask this on anon so I didn’t ask on your personal, idk if this is too personal or anything to ask but

Do you have a problem with people saying they have a mental disorder if they don’t have a diagnosis? Like for me so… I have been diagnosed with anxiety but I am like 99% sure I have bipolar disorder. And like I know you can’t diagnose me so I’m not going to go into depth with my symptoms but ever since I was like, 11, I used to get very depressed to the point where I contemplated ending it but then i would snap out of it and I think for me my manic phase are hypomanic bc ive never experienced like the full range of those symptoms but my depressive phases get very rough esp if I have external stressors but it will go through what I assume to be these phases like sometimes within the day esp if I have a stressor.

I am in nursing school and I work at a psych hospital so like this isn’t coming out of nowhere, I am very familiar with all mental disorders and it was actually during my psych nursing class and learning about bipolar disorder that I was like… hm… why does this feel like a mirror right now. I am aware I should get to a therapist and get an actual diagnosis (if I had money I would lol) but like idk. Idk if it’s worth going to my doctor at my physical and being like “hey I think I have this” I am lucky enough now that I am in a good place and can manage my symptoms but I am terrified I will go through a stressor again and lose it so idk. I mean I feel like I already know the answer but I wanted to ask anyway to see your take :/

Anyway idk as a future medical professional I think self diagnosis got a bad rep and it’s like idk I think for mental disorders esp you can tell if you have anxiety and it’s a persistent problem. You can tell if you have depression. I know bipolar disorder is harder to diagnose but idk I think since I’m in the field it’s easier? Idk I felt like a sense of relief with learning about it and finding similarities and being like “well maybe that’s why I’m like that”. But idk now I’m feeling uneasy bc I don’t have a diagnosis and I don’t want to be like, stepping over people who were diagnosed. Thank you in advance if you read all this and yeah I’m sorry I know it’s a lot and this is controversial

ok this is a long post so im putting it under a cut but tldr, no i dont have a problem with it. it doesnt matter if you actually have an illness, it matters if you find a solution to your problem. if treating yourself like you have a certain condition makes it easier to go through life, then keep doing what works for you, you are doing nothing wrong. this all goes for physical and mental illnesses.

im a firm proponent of self diagnosis. i wouldnt be here if i didnt have the confidence to research mental illnesses and advocate for myself. as someone who is extremely familiar with the medical profession on account of being the daughter of a doctor and a nurse and spending my childhood running around a hospital, im extremely privileged to even have the knowledge and ability to do so, and i try to bear in mind the understandable hesitancy of people without this advantage. i know that you are well within your right to refuse medication that makes you sick, i know that you can complain about a doctor that isnt listening to you, i know that you are allowed and encouraged to be adamant about things you are told dont matter, and in addition to that, i have a VERY well known doctor and a nurse in my corner, and i am STILL treated as though i do not understand my own experiences enough to have any authority more often than i am not.

the reason self diagnosis gets a bad rep imo is because people have constructed this boogeyman of the worst case scenario, people collecting mental illnesses they dont have for attention as opposed to what it is, people doing research into their experiences and making theories on what they have so they can manage it. youll often see the take of "i dont hate self dxd i just hate people who do it for attention" and i think thats very irresponsible considering a symptom of many mental illnesses is thinking youre faking it and doing it for attention, nevermind the fact that attention seeking behaviour is literally a symptom of many mental illnesses people often dont want to empathize with. gatekeeping whos illness is real just keeps people who need help out. i could go into an anarchist screed about democratizing health, but basically, as someone whos life has been saved by my insistence on self diagnosis, and whos life has been made significantly easier by treating myself as though i have the conditions that i theorize i have, self diagnosis saves lives, and i, as an advocate for disabled people of all kinds on my island, will never put any conditionals on self diagnosis. it doesnt matter if you find the right name for your problem, it matters if you find a solution that works. i have yet to meet any of these fabled people who never try to receive a professional opinion, only people who literally cant.

as for feeling guilty, ill repeat how i opened this answer: it does not matter what exactly your problem is, it matters that you find a solution that works. in medicine generally, there will be a wide spectrum of problems with overlapping treatments, things which are similar but distinct, things which look identical but are completely different and at different levels of concern. it doesnt really matter which grab bag of bullshit your brain is reaching from, it matters that you know how to deal with what it throws at you, whatever that may be. dont worry about getting it right, worry about getting it working. okay?

for advice on how to deal with doctors, its helpful to pose it as a hypothetical as opposed to an absolute. when i bring up things im dealing with that i have a theory about i say "i think i have x" or "i think i might have x" or "i have a lot of symptoms of x". doctors are often egotistical and are easily challenged so it helps to pose it at a problem they can solve as opposed to one youve solved for them otherwise they get spooked. in my experience posing it this way leads them to actually interrogate this line of symptoms, and theyll ask you why you think that, and you can bring up symptoms that led you to that conclusion, and ones that give you trouble especially. for example, ive said "i think i may have autism or adhd? or both" to several doctors, and they either agree with me (i believe its been put in my file as a possibility now although i cant get an official test done due to financial and resource restrictions) or they ask why i think so, and i detail what i believe is due to my autism. its small, but this reframing helps a lot.

i think this covers all you said but my head is empty as hell.

[divine-draws]

okay i had a whole google doc that i wrote a buncha shit but imma try to CONDENSE it and make my ideas more clear bc there was some wishy washy in there. BUT dabihawks ice skating au bc im gay for that shit. all of it under the cut bc this shit is gunna get LONG. buckle in fuckers. ALSO FEEL FREE TO ASK ME ABOUT this i will be happy to answer shit :3c

SO fair warning before we begin. i know shit about ice sports. im like 1) not THAT educated nor have i legit participated though ive always wanted to and 2) this is just self indulgent so like if i dont get shit right or whatever dont come at me bro. im here to have FUN and live a bit vicariously. also as for location of all this shit i dont know and dont care and am american so my perspective on things are skewed. anyway cw: abuse mention

so dabi (touya) is a previous figure skater

he’s a figure skating prodigy 

enji was a pro hockey player (id say figure skating but this man was BUILT like a brick shithouse idk man) has a lot of championships under his belt but doesnt even begin to touch the legacy of his one sided rival yagi toshinori

him and rei meet and marry at a young age. she like.. actually liked him then?? shit was kinda okay but things kinda.... got bad quick. the abuse etc was ... yeah. she ends up having dabi and fuyumi (they’re twins babeyy) at a young age too and kinda doesnt feel like she can get out of her horrible marriage 

we wont dwell too much on the bad part of all of this though. anyway rei was a figure skater

p well known and known for her fucking GRACE god she moved so well on the ice.

she was so beautiful and spoke through her movements and enji loved that... and so as a hockey player and with a (now previous) figure skater wife he was like aight my kids WILL take up an ice sport and be the FUCKING BEST

dabi isnt made for hockey. enji tries to get him into it but it’s... nah... fuyumi isnt the best with figure skating. she’s good!! and her and dabi do some pair skating when they’re younger but it’s.. hm. dabi is the one with the clear talent here. (fuyumi is a beast on the ice when it comes to hockey though. will dominate. but she kinda... didnt really continue with it)

enji isnt PLEASED that his son isnt gunna be a hockey player but he still values figure skating and will fucking make sure he’s the BEST at it. and so the brutal training starts. he gets some good coaches and also takes up the coaching mantle 

the thing is.. rei was amazing as a skater but her body just... wasnt really made for all of that??? and dabi unfortunately kinda inherited that. his body hates the impacts and such. he’s amazing at figure skating. he has a grace similar to his mothers but there’s something more fierce to him. 

and honestly !!! he gets far!!

also natsuo comes around. he’s a bit too clumsy for either sport and resents the fact that him and fuyumi are neglected by their father. he also loves touya and gets so pissed seeing his brother so hurt

and shouto is born and this kid was made to be on the ice. he’s skating from the moment he can fucking stand on his own.

obvs enji’s attention is split but it’s mainly on touya who is winning championships and GOING places but it’s still not good enough

anyway idk how far he goes?? but it’s the biggest competition yet and on ice mid routine he lands wrong

one thing leads to the next and he’s pretty much medically retired from a young age. he can skate. he can still kinda preform but he cant do what he used to at ALL and he cant keep up with the brutal pace enji sets. there’s a lot of trying to push him still and it’s just.. not happening

for all it’s worth dabi is kinda glad he isnt doing it anymore. but he fears for his babies brother. shouto is a natural and while yes being a professional athlete of any sort is brutal on your body, his body is a lot more capable

but like touya before, shouto is pushed to his absolute limits. bleeding and injuries and puking his guts out from being pushed too far

there’s a lotta resentment but he still pushes through w skating. 

(side note but there DEF is some todomido/tododeku w hockey player izuku who ends up being coached by THE yagi toshinori and who helps shouto out w making shit his own)

anyway so in the end dabi ends up working at a rink tho lol

it’s p much owned by shigarai and run by the lov (who in this au end up making their own little ragtag unofficial local hockey team p much and play games against other teams like them)

despite his father’s whole career, dabi does enjoy playing hockey with these dipshits

but yeah he enjoys his time working at the rink, fucking around and sleeping in random places and sometimes running the zamboni

he’s also best frenemies with shigaraki. they get along and both deal with a shitty upbringing and despite some slight animosity they both would kill if someone fucked w the other 

(also at some point dabi DEF teaches some little kid classes lol)

also dabi does sometimes skate his own routines from time to time. only when he’s alone really. though fuyumi has a pass to be there though he will gripe still

SO HAWKS AM I RIGHT??

now there is a couple ways to go with this and somewhere in me there is an au with hockey player hawks who takes skating lessons from figure skater dabi BUT

i think for this au we’ll just say he was a figure skater from the get go

i think he WANTED to do hockey as a kid. like shouto he’s also a fucking natural and was skating as soon as he could fucking stand and walk. and he looked up to enji and kinda wanted to take up hockey but 

listen,,, trans hawks. who wanted to be like todoroki enji and be a pro hockey player. shit just.. didnt work like that though and besides he’s a tiny dude and god he’d be fucking obliterated 

he kinda is self taught and the ice is his escape from his shitty home life

idk how this works but listen gotta tie in the commission somehow???

he’s scouted or whatever for figure skating at a very young age and his mom is happy to take the heavy scholarships and happy to sign him over to skate for these ppl and have them push him to be The Best

and this kid is FAST. he’s fast and is insane with his jumps and stg it almost looks like he’s FLYING (which gets him the nickname hawks)

the coaches are brutal and shit sucks and a lot of the time it kinda sucks the life out of the sport but he still enjoys it

he has a love for outfits that legit have flare to them (also im thinking of johnny weir’s one outfit w the feathers but yknow instead of white they are RED) and while he does do routines to boring ass music he mainly likes doing shit different (also dabi was p much forced the whole time to do shit to that boring ass music but on his own he’d use his own music taste to skate to)

and he’s good!! he GOES places. he’s like makes it to the olympics at a young age and is one of THE youngest gold medalists for figure skating

im sure somewhere along the line him and dabi DID meet. it was at some competition and hawks was VIBRATING bc there’s ENJI and he wants and autograph and oH GOD IS THAT HIS SON??? he’s HOT. (and at this time dabi still had his red hair and like no piercings and what little ones he had they were out but this dumbass will not recognize him later on)

but god he needs to chill TF out or he will fuck up in the competition 

he hears about dabi’s whole accident and like feels for him but again it’s not like they were friends. there was more of a slight rivalry and they barely spoke if they did

but so idk like.. between seasons hawks finds himself going like nearly every day to this rink.. aka shigaraki’s rink (also sidenote but lbr it’s really run by shirakumo who kinda has to fucking herd the cats w this group)

as frenemies dabi and shigaraki share their distaste for some of these pro athletes (tho some get a pass) and kinda complain about hawks a bit tho like..... shigaraki cant complain TOO much bc of the money from hawks renting out the rink for a few hours almost every day

dabi is too gay for this shit when he actually sees hawks in action. rip him 

tbh they dont really interact tho (besides dabi telling him to gtfo the rink or he’ll run him over with the zamboni) until one day that hawks catches dabi skating

he was done and should have been gone but he forgot something on the bleachers and then he sees dabi and.. oh boy he’s GAY AF

and also dabi is RLLY GOOD???

and so hawks makes a FOOL of himself and startles the poor guy and p much presses all the wrong buttons w asking why he doesnt compete or something

and i mean im sure they had some SLIGHT progress w talking before. nothing significant but god the walls go RIGHT THE FUCK UP and dabi is pissed

tbh dabi was gunna get to the point where he LEGIT talked to him and maybe lowkey asked him out (he says this but shigaraki calls his bluff) and now there is no way. he storms off and tries to avoid him so hard

and hawks tries to corner him a bit but after some time he does manage to corner him and be like pls just let me take you out to dinner to make up for that shit????

aaand dabi accepts bc listen okay he cant say no to free food ??? like he’s kinda pissy w this guy but also.. listen he has EYES 

anywayyy p much this just leads to them dating

hawks DEF looks him up and watches all the vids of him and like the idiot he is realizes that he met him before ( “oh my GOD i know you” “uh… we’re dating i hope u know me?????”  “nO I MEAN WE MET AT (insert comp)”)

but before that dabi did like tell him some shit. mainly about like how he used to skate blah blah and the whole thing that ended all of that

he doesnt really delve too deep into like his shitty childhood until well later

idk what leads to it but the convo finally comes up and it’s so draining for dabi and hawks is horrified and ready to fight his dad (“listen i just sharpened my skates i’ll just-”)

anyway some side things bc this is long and i will answer questions on this tho

rumi is a women’s pro hockey player and fuyumi who actually follows hockey and shit has the BIGGEST crush on her (they end up together)

also natsuo comes to see one of the leagues games (he hasnt really seen them play tbh?? he hears about it from dabi but he lives like at least a few hours away on campus and is going for med school so rip him) and like he meets shigaraki and anyway dabi is losing his FUCKING MIND bc his best frenemy/boss and his younger brother are FLIRTING. RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM???

dabi and hawks are really gay together and have skated together by this point and made out on ice a few times and shigaraki was miserable and is like “NOW U KNOW!!” and dabi is pissed bc “yEAH BUT THAT”S MY LITTLE BROTHER??? IT”S NOt thE SAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” 

[patchdotexe]

explorers of arvus: heading back / 3.11.21

zoom and enhonse

LAST TIME ON ARVUS taure passed out and we are now down a healer! also we met a disciple of halvkar, and surprisingly did not murder her. this is fine. we have instantly gotten distracted by our various carts. cats. our various cats

DID ANY OF US CATCH TAURE, SHE FELL OVER sieron tried to catch her and smacked charlie+thorne in the face (he rolled a nat1, f) BUT the catboy is to the rescue bc silje is the designated Not Incompetent of the group today

CONSULT THE CHILD hewwo yrel yrel: her mind is being consumed by the serpent of nightmares. :D charlie: HELLO?????//

so, dendar(?) the night serpent is imprisoned beneath arvus! she was formed from the nightmares of the first sentient being, and sometimes she eats people's nightmares. if she's exceptionally hungry, she'll force nightmares onto people for her to feed off their fear. yrel thinks taure will Probably wake up. there's a thing on arvus mentioned by the locals called a "sleeping sickness" where people will fall asleep for a few days, sometimes longer, but will wake up. its magical in cause, the people afflicted by it have horrific nightmares, and its just kinda. a thing. wowza

(i have gone back to spelling yrel's name as yrel bc i think it looks nice)

OH HEY SOMEONE POSTED A THEORY ON ONE OF MY STICKMOLUS ANIMATIONS man i should get back to stickmolus sometime. once dsmp releases its awful grip on me.

i keep getting distracted by seeing myself in the camera preview. i have a tooth gap! what the fuck its cute?? K I KNOW WE'RE SUPER BLURRY IN FRONT RN BUT PLEASE HELP ME STAY FOCUSED I SWEAR -leo

we're gonna build a sled! to put taure on. thorne: i have a good strength score. ....i say, out loud charlie: i am four feet tall. [cue argument between thorne & sieron about them both being horcs but sieron has a +0 bc strength is his dump stat] OH, OKAY, THORNE ROLLED A NAT20 TO CARRY TAURE. NICE

[discussion about what to tell everyone at camp vengenace] thorne: the last thing we need to do is a witch hunt charlie: --and we already hunted the witch! the witch has been hunted.

time to discuss strategy! we need to figure out how to head back to camp vengeance, eg if we want to follow the path we already took or if we wanna do some trailblazing. looks like we're gonna try and take the most direct path! which means we'll prolly risk tangoing with some undead but im willing to risk it TINY HUT STAIRCASE sorry i just remember it now and then

nyx: [meowing at his cats] thorne: uh... why is silje meowing? jorb: silje's food bowl is empty jorb: you look at silje's food bowl and there's a divot in the middle and the food is all on the sides emotionally, we must bully the catboy silje saw something interesting and started meowing

thorne: ill take first watch silje: ill also take first watch. charlie: [quietly] gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy (but, like, extended for 15 seconds)

silje: [takes watch] [rolls a nat1 and gets distracted by looking at his crush]

THORNE HAS LOCATED A DOG the dog does not give a shit about the tiny hut. THE DOG HAS PEED ON THE TINY HUT goodbye dog

EVERYONE IS ROLLING AT LEAST 1 NAT1 thorne: wow! that sure is a dog. thorne has drawn the worst possible dog. thorne has erased the worst possible dog. we dont speak of the worst possible dog its the dog version of honse. DONSE

sieron is now on watch! MAN we are havin trouble rolling today. at least kali's here to make sure sieron doesnt stare at a rock for 50000 years sieron sees a mouse! bottom text

charlie is now on watch! kali is havin a big ol thonk. nothing meaningful has come of this

i am perceiving some deer. sieron is not perceiving some deer. silje is perceiving some deer, but better the deer are fucked up and undead! silje has gone from "we should hunt these deer for food" to "we should hunt these deer for sport"

charlie: i do not feel like being jumped by five thousand skeletons

charlie takes first watch with sieron! WHY ARE OUR ROLLS SO TERRIBLE taure is super cursed right now. that's not very pog charlie: this place sucks. thorne: to be fair, we havent-- charlie: YOU'RE ASLEEP, SHUT UP

oh hey coolname galvanic finally partied. nice.

thorne is at watch! solar: hey, is leomund's tiny hut an orb? there's a critter digging around! AH, THE CRITTER IS UNDEAD. this could be a problem

solar: hey michael, how much does the horrific sin against god dog i drew look like this creature michael: [dice roll noises] about 50%.

michael: if anyone likes, they can make a nature check-- solar: ME MEMEMEMEME ME ME ME

its a bulette! aka a land shark. problem: they are not normally undead. this one is undead.

jorb: imagine if you could tame one of those and use it as a mount. leo: IT WOULD JUST DIG UNDERGROUND AND LEAVE YOU THERE

we are just calling it a weird dog

we're going to mail a letter to the heart of arvus. HEY, CHECK OUT THIS WEIRD DOG,

JORB FOUND ART OF A BABY BULETTE. WEIRD PUPPY!

solar: hey guys, check out this sick art of a bulette i found

silje kept a lookout for the weird dog but its just fucked off. goodbye, weird dog give it up for day 3!

man there's been like, three incinerations today in blaseball. what's up with that. I SWEAR IM MOSTLY PAYING ATTENTION its just been an eventful day in blaseball. also im wearing my garages bomber rn. jaylen is home wooOOOO the wind smells stinky. this is fine.

we're actively avoiding whatever combat michael keeps nudging at us bc we're carrying around an unconscious person and i SWEAR hes gonna throw something directly at us once he's done with our shenanigans

UHH MICHAEL ASKING FOR PASSIVE PERCEPTION LOL

huh. this place used to be inhabited? we're in the woods rn but there's some like, stone ruins? like, VERY ruins. like, not really any structures standing, but enough evidence to show there Were things. WE FOUND A STATUE charlie: i want to smash my face against the lore.

used to be a circle of standing stones, but most of em fell over or got overgrown. inside of the circle has been cleared, although v roughly-- ground's torn up statue is of fjolnir! warrior holding up a spear and shield. AH, THERE ARE CORPSES, a human got REAL fucked up here. one of the corpses is straight up impaled on fjolnir's spear. n ... not pog.

i am trying so, so hard to pay attention. but i also kinda wanna take a nap.

charlie: [stares at statue] [rolls a 4] i wonder if he had a dick.

okay so something rolled in, tore up the overgrowth inside the circle, and murdered a couple dudes. and was also super tall and human-adjacent. hrm.

oh my god why are we rolling so shit today. time to stealth away and hope we dont get casually dismembered

k: jorb's hair is so long... leo: K, PLEASE,

time for a break! i am very tired but im gonan see if i can push through a little further. nyx is petting his cat why do orangatangs look like that

first watch is thorne and sieron! have they even, like, talked thorne unhabby ): thorne's worried we were tresspassing when checking out the statue, meanwhile im thinking about that one time when sieron got bit by a groundhog

(oh my god this is from late 2018)

leomund's tiny hut, aka the anti-sea bear circle we are getting SO much mileage out of the tiny hut. SILJE HUMS A SONG WITH KALI cute........... FINALLY I HAVE ROLLED ABOVE A 14 wait no i rolled a 16 twice. anyway we are not dead

nearly at camp vengenace! boy howdy i hope camp vengeance didnt get burned down. AH FUCK TAURE IS UNCONSCIOUS SO WE CANT CAST FOR DETECT POISON kaepora nearly made us all shit ourselves but its okay he just saw some bison and thought it was cool Michael Is Consulting Several Tables

WHY DOES JORB'S CAMERA ZOOM LIKE THAT why am i hungry. i have so many questions

HEY, TALL GUY [smacks sieron]

camp vengeance looks better! like, nobody's Obviously Sick anymore, the medical tents arent overfilled, we did it! we saved the dayyyyyy time to report to ryder! taure's getting dropped off at the medical tent

man remember when charlie didnt wear pants

oh man, with taure unconscious charlie is now taking point with social interaction. wild. jk im making jorb do it bc im tired HAHA NAT 20 PERSUASION BC OF ME HELPIN SIERON man ryder is such a cock. he was totally ready to keep throwing troops at heaven's brazier to die until we managed to persuade him out of it. jorb: did we tell ryder about the vision? michael: you kinda just took a look at him and went STINKY BOY!

okay yeah anything that dies on arvus will just pop back up as undead. man, arvus sucks.

ryder: alright, dismissed. charlie: seeya, soldier boy! :D hahahahaha im gonna eat his knees.

SILJE NEEDS ENRICHMENT IN HIS ENCLOSURE

charlie: ive decided he sucks. silje: we've already arrived to that, you're late!

LMAO WE WALKED IN ON INGRID AND HER CRUSH they fuckin. nice. you go, you funky lesbian

jorb: we've got the tiny hut, we could go anywhere leo: we could go to SPACE! nyx: we could not go to space. leo: WITH A TINY HUT STAIRCASE, WE CAN,

we are 320 miles away from the spaceship that exists on arvus. nice.

michael: justin sees you-- roll a strength saving throw. leo: i cant wait to die! [rolls a 3] I AM CRUSHED BY MY DOG michael: he rolled a nat20.

BOSS ENCOUNTER: CHARLIE'S DOG (the small circle next to him is one of the medical tents.)

THORNE IS PACT OF THE GUN solar: PARRY THIS, YOU FUCKING CASUAL

sieron, to ingrid: seems like youve been doing well charlie: i punch sieron. sieron: sieron: the camp, of course.

man we have no idea if the heart of arvus is actually related to the prophecy or not. theres a Lot of stuff lining up, but not enough, and its hard to say how much of it couldve been literal?

solar & michael: [discussing exposition] me: [cracking up bc penn sent me a funny dsmp joke]

prophecies are weird.

charlie is just s she is just sitting here SILJE PLAYED CARDS REALLY GOOD AT ME nyx rolled a nat20 and took all my money

oh cool we can talk to yrel telepathically! time to hoist yrel. THIS IS SO SCUFFED thorne mentioned yrel and now we're trying to explain to ingrid that we have a magic talking snake charlie: I WANT TO GO HOME. thorne: we cant go, we have a GOD-KING to kill! "i think theyre insane, theyre talking to a snake" "ingrid, druids exist" "oh. im gonna go back to getting railed by my 7 foot tall girlfriend"

[books-and-cookies]

so this is kind of like, an "am i the asshole?" situation. met this guy on tinder, we've met up n chilled a couple times. one time was actually at his place & i expected to hook up but i was so tired and oblivious that i missed all the "are we having sex?" signals and we just watched some netflix. whatever, we both had fun. we agree to meet up tonight bc im sick of sitting in my room studying. expecting to probably hook up this time now that we defo both know its on the table, but i havent [1]

completely made up my mind and i already told him i couldnt stay the night anyway bc i had to get up early. we study for a couple hours, watch netflix and cuddle up, and then he asks if we're gonna do anything. fair enough, i like direct. i say only if it's just a hookup and he agrees, he says fwb. im already fwb w someone else ive met recently so im like sure sounds good. we go in to kiss and he says "im not very good at this", im like ??? and he explains he doesn't know how to "do it" [2]because it's his first time. a lot of my friends are still virgins (we're both 19 going on 20) so that doesnt bother me, except im a lot more experienced. which would maybe be a good thing. except rn im on ssri pills which fuck up a lot of sex stuff: cant orgasm, struggle to get wet enough for sex, and that makes it a bit more complicated bc if he doesn't rlly know what hes doing... well, i feel like im not the best person to start with, you know? i feel like he didnt really get it bc he [3]wouldnt really know what it was supposed to be like, and frankly my situation does make it a lot harder to have good sex and i think it wouldnt be great for his first time. i said i didnt want to ruin a friendship over one night that probably wouldn't be good for either of us, and that your first time should mean something (i regret having a one night stand as my first, cant even remember his name). he said we could try anyway n he didnt mind but i was uncomfortable and went home. im kinda [4]wondering whether i was a bit harsh given that i probably wouldve hooked up with him if he hadn't said that, but also i feel like i'm justified. i think the fact im on ssris (n i told him the effects) were a big part, but tbh taking someones virginity is a lot of pressure. i wasn't leading him on, right? we kinda agreed to just hang out as friends but im not rlly sure if thats gonna hold up. i find it hard to read emotions and ive been told i can be quite cold at times. so, am i the asshole? [5]

Not the asshole at all, imo. Like you said, taking someone's virginity is a big deal and I agree - ideally, your first time should be with someone who means something to you and vice versa, because it's easier and more meaningful. You weren't leading him on, because you didn't know that he was a virgjn and the particulars of your situation complicate things. Tbh imo you'd have been the asshole if you'd done the deed, knowing it might be a lousy experience for him.

Also, you're allowed to say no if you don't feel comfortable. Sex shouldn't be a "okay fine let's do it" thing. And you're definitely entitled to want to have a pleasurable experience, that's literally the whole point of it. Especially if it's hard for you at the moment, because of medication.

I'd say try talking to him again after you've both calmed, but at the same time remember that you don't owe him anything.

Sending hugs ❤🤗

[interrogatormentors]

Event Twelve: Underhanded Tactics

Eridan woke up in the medbay, a common occurrence these nights. His whole head throbbed, and he slid his tongue along the roof of his cotton-dry mouth. He cracked open an eye only to screw it shut again, head panging again as a jolt of fear rattled through his gut. The phantom scent of antiseptic teased at his memory, the sound of hair clippers and the saw discordant and lingering as the Empress crooned at his side. You are my confidante, she’d said. You must keep my secrets close, locked tight so no one can pull them from you. Stop crying, guppy, brain surgery ain’t so bad. 

He took a deep breath through his nose, gills flaring as he struggled to avoid hyperventilating. The past couldn’t hurt him, initial panic notwithstanding. His arm itched, a faint movement confirming the IV needle sunk into a vein. He felt around for the needle, ripping it out of his arm and clamping his hand down to stem the resulting spurt of blood.

“Sir!” Eridan ignored the alarmed squawk of a nearby mediculler, sitting up on the medical platform and peeling his eyes open. “You should be resting--”

“I didn’t give nobody permission to bring me in, Icrusa,” Eridan said, voice a rough croak. He cleared his throat, replacing his whole hand with his index finger to put pressure on the IV site instead. The mediculler swallowed hard, shrinking back as Eridan shot him an icy glare. “Told you this the last time.”

“You keep passing out, sir,” Icrusa said. His ears flushed a brilliant yellow as Eridan glowered. “You really shouldn’t be drinking so much, not with your pan in such a delicate state.” Icrusa stopped speaking as Eridan gripped onto the side of the medical platform, highblood strength twisting and warping the metal frame.

“My pan ain’t delicate,” he said. “I’m no different than I was a sweep ago. I’m not some delicate pissblooded helmsman. I can handle it. And the next time you try an’ give me some holier than thou bullshit regardin’ my drinkin’ habits, I’m setting you out the airlock. I didn’ ask for you to give me fuckin’ unsolicited health advice an’ you’d fuckin’ do well to remember that.” He reached for his glasses, shoving them on his face. His finger skipped over the false slap of skin at his temples, hiding the new port for a biowire. His stomach rolled, and he shoved it away. Don’t think about it. Don’t feel. Shut off your emotions, guppy, like a husktop. “I can’t get work done in the medbay. Sign my release form.”

Icrusa hesitated before bobbing his head, scurrying back to his office. He knew better by this point than to point out that yes, actually, it was his job to give health advice considering his status as the ship’s official mediculler after the last time Eridan woke up hungover in the medbay. Eridan watched him the whole time through narrowed eyes, foot tapping at a near frantic pace as he waited. He left the medbay even before the mediculler left his office, lifting the cape folded at the end of the platform and swinging it back around his shoulders. A sweep ago he would have felt childish, wearing a cape again, haunted by wiggler memories of immature games and lofty aspirations he could never hope to reach. But the Empress had given it to him, just for him in her color, gold woven into the hem with his sign etched into the embroidery, marking him as hers. 

He went to his block, avoiding the stares from crew members as he swept past them. He didn’t need their concern or their pity to do his job. The moment he entered he snatched a half-empty flask from his desk, draining the rest of it and sighing as his throat burned. Nothing beat a hangover like a bit of hair of the woofbeast, and a few minutes later his panic faded back into the background. Everything was okay. He was fine, everything was normal, and he could get to work.

Eridan sank into his chair, fumbling around for a bottle of soporific and refilling his flask as he eyed a desk drawer with distaste. He sucked in a breath before opening it, picking up the squirming biowire pinched between his index finger and thumb. He gritted his teeth before flicking the false flap of skin back, putting the wire to his temple. The biowire squirmed and sank into the port, and Eridan flinched as pain shot through his brain. The Empress had assured him the procedure was safe, convenient, but every time he hooked up to a computer Eridan felt like death clawed at his pan. He didn’t have psionics, he didn’t have all the electric pulses constantly thrumming through his body and shortening the neural pathways so the biowire could work efficiently. The biowire twisted his thoughts into agonized tendrils, every transfer of encrypted data giving him a migraine for hours. 

Still he hooked himself to his computer, taking another draft from his refilled flask as he opened up his alerts and tasks for the day. A download automatically started-- a security update for the ship itself, procedures for lockdown in case of a hijacking. The rebellion kept forcing the Empire’s hand, this latest security update a response to the more frequent hijackings by the movement that drew closer and closer to the heart of the fleet. Eridan bowed his head as the details wove their way into the meat of his pan, sinking into the hardware and locking themselves away. His hands shook, and he had to take a few minutes before focusing back on his tasks. His duties as Head Admin hadn’t ceased. Supplies needed ordering, personnel needed allocating, and patrol routes needed vetting. The duties never stopped, they never stopped piling up, and the notifications at the bottom right of his husktop screen with the sheer number of them seared their image into Eridan’s eyeballs.

Eridan leaned back in his seat, scrubbing at his eyes and then staring at the ceiling. Turn off the emotions. He could do that, he needed to do that, in order to keep going. He couldn’t waylay the demands of the Empress, and he had a responsibility to his ship to keep it running. Wasting time freaking out about the lack of time and lack of autonomy held him back. Besides, he never made good decisions for himself in the first place.

The intercom crackled on his desk, and Eridan snarled as he depressed the call button with his finger. “The fuck you need, Shakes?”

“Uh. Sorry to bother you, but we got a docking request,” Shakes said. “You good?”

“Not relevant. The BC Condescension is a galaxy over until the end of the perigee, so tell whoever we ain’t dockin’ for shit.”

“No, no, boss, this ain’t just any old request. It’s, uh, an interrogatormentor cruiser?”

Eridan lifted his head where he’d been resting it on his hand, blood crystallizing into icy shards of fear. “What? Why?”

“Beats me,” Shakes said. “They’ve got all the required security codes all lined up neat for me. I couldn’t get a bead on the helmsman either-- It’s like they don’t even have one. Do I let them dock?”

“It’s th’ bloody interrogatormentors. Do we have a choice?” Eridan plucked the biowire from his skull, shoving it back in his desk and smoothing his hair flat once again. “Let them on. I’ll let the Captain know.”

He met the interrogatormentors in the docking bay as they disembarked their tiny cruiser. The two purples stood out, towering high above the third, weedy troll between them. Eridan had to shake himself as he took in the yellowblood, the image of the decrepit Helmsman superimposed over the far more muscled and smooth-faced interrogatormentor in front of them. The fact the interrogatormentor clearly had helming experience didn’t help, his skin riddled with resealable ports that shone in the overhead lights. That explained the helmsman, then. Of course Shakes wouldn’t be able to get a bead on a helmsman with interrogatormentor training. Eridan cleared his throat, straightened his posture, and approached.

“Are you the captain?” The yellowblood cocked his head an inch, looking Eridan up and down. Something in his tone indicated he already knew the answer to his question, and his lisp niggled at memory in the back of Eridan’s pan.

“No. I’m Head Admin Ampora. State your business and I will fetch the captain for--”

The female purple to the side of the first interrogatormentor held up a hand, cutting him off. She wore no face paint unlike her companion. The male purple in question stared at Eridan openly, twitching as he heard Eridan’s name. It took Eridan a moment to register Gamzee aged as he was, gone through his final adult molt and towering above him. He met Gamzee’s eyes for only a moment before tearing his gaze away. He couldn’t risk Gamzee opening his mouth. He only wondered how Gamzee had landed a position alongside an interrogatormentor squad considering how Eridan faintly recalled outing his rebel connections upon first meeting the Empress.

The yellowblooded interrogatormentor cleared his throat. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. His fangs flashed as he spoke. “You’ve been compromised, Admin Ampora.”

The voice finally knocked something loose in Eridan’s pan, unlocking memories of voice calls at midday and filled with shouting wigglers spouting heresy. “TwinArmageddons?”

“CaligulasAquarium,” the yellow interrogatormentor replied, without missing a beat. 

Eridan stared at him, and stayed silent. They stayed at an impasse for a few moments, neither of them willing to out the other's rebel ties without revealing their own as Gamzee kept looking between them as the treasonous icing on the cake. It was as if Eridan had handed the interrogatormentor a grenade, and the yellowblood had pulled the pin while the grenade sat in their joined hands.

The female purple looked to the yellow, who cleared his throat. “I read his file. He read mine.” Eridan didn’t like how easily he lied, terror still prickling at the base of his skull. He scratched the back of his head, trying to ignore the wicked scar there. 

“So. Right. You here to torture me?” Eridan asked. “Interrogatormentor…?”

“Captor,” the yellowblood said. He indicated the female purple, and then Gamzee. “Interrogatormentor Davrot, Security Officer Makara. We’re responding to an alert your ship is harboring rebels and they are attempting to remove you from your position as the Empress’ consort.”

Eridan’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “No. You got the wrong ship. I ain’t recruitin’ rebels. Especially none tryin’ to undermine me.”

Captor snorted, lowering his chin in a clear sign of arrogant condescension. He waved a hand and the two purples separated from his side where they’d clung like remoras to a shark’s parasite-ridden gills. “Strange. The report said you’re the one that caught the alert and brought it to the Empire’s attention.”

Eridan stared, trying to knit together the holes in his memory and recall ever summoning interrogatormentors. He did a lot of his work drunk now, true enough, but he had a handle on it and remembered the important information. If anything he only remembered the Empress, a foggy memory of her praising him for his work against the rebellion. Was this what she meant?

He turned as he heard yelling and a distant commotion, but Captor waved a hand. “Ignore this and get back to whatever you Head Admins call work while we deal with your infestation,” he said. “You’ll be updated when we get what we need.” 

He walked away, silent as before as he ghosted after the two purples. Eridan watched him go before shaking himself back into reality, looking around to see a few crewmates halted in their duties and watching him. “You’re not paid to dick around,” he said, baring his teeth. “Unless any of the rest of you want to be investigated for rebel leanings. Might as well make use of the interrogatormentors while they’re here.” The idle crewmembers jumped back into their work, avoiding Eridan’s eye as he left the room.

Hours passed, and Eridan wanted to throttle something. Everyone wanted to know what the interrogatormentors wanted or needed, and he had nothing to give them. He didn’t even know the name of the troll being investigated, and he didn’t care. As long as the interrogatormentors weren’t knocking at his door and asking what he knew of Feferi and her rebellion, he didn’t care.

Someone knocked on his door. Eridan jumped, almost knocking over his flask onto his keyboard and only just managing to catch it before it fell. He swore and stood, opening the door to see the trio of trolls from earlier, Interrogatormentor Davrot dragging a fourth, barely conscious troll behind her by the hair. Olive blood oozed from multiple lacerations across the troll’s face and arms.

“Bricks?” Eridan tried to not sound so betrayed, but his voice dripped with it.

Bricks stirred, groaning before opening an eye. His other eye was swollen shut. “I’m not a rebel,” Bricks said. He yelped as Davrot yanked his hair up, clinging to her wrist for dear life in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pain.  “I’m not. Don’t listen to them-- I just tried to get you help!”

“Help with what?” Eridan’s fingers curled in the hem of his cape, and he let go only when he caught Captor staring at the gesture like a predator eyeing its prey.

Bricks stayed silent, hissing as Davrot forced him onto his knees. She leaned in, grabbing him by the horn and twisting. “No. No no no-- Not again--” Bricks screamed as Eridan caught the sound of horn splintering, grinding against itself. “The Empress! Stop-- She’s killing you, Ampora, can’t you see it? Anyone with eyes can fucking see it, it’s only the rebellion that might care! I don’t give a shit about anything else they do, I just wanted them to get you out of this place before it gets any worse..”

Eridan bristled, hands curling into his fists. Captor moved forward before he could say anything, footsteps inaudible on the metal tile. He put his hand on Bricks’ shoulder. “He sold you out,” he said. “You’re preaching to the choir now.” Bricks blinked, looking from Captor to Eridan who stood immobile. Captor snorted, snapping his fingers. Davrot grabbed Bricks’ hand, linking her fingers with his and holding it high above his head as Captor leaned in and grabbed Bricks by the chin. “It’s kind of sweet, isn’t it? You selling each other out to try and save your own sorry hides. You thought you could get away with this? With trying to snatch the Empress’ consort out from under her?” Captor dropped Bricks’ face and turned his bicolored eyes on Eridan. “You employ soft crewmembers, Admin Ampora. We didn’t even have to press hard to crack him open.”

Captor moved his left hand, swiping it overtop his right. Psionics shimmered in its wake, coalescing into a solid blade of hard light. Eridan could feel the thrum of power from here, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end in the wake of this blatant flexing of psionic ability. Bricks jerked his hand in Davrot’s grip, but she stood immobile as Gamzee grabbed his uninjured horn and kept him locked in place. “Ampora. Eridan. Come on. Who the fuck do you think keeps scraping your sorry ass off the floor every time you pass out? Tell me they’re lying-- You wouldn’t throw me under like this. I know you.”

“You don’t know me,” Eridan said. He couldn’t remember telling any interrogatormentors about an outgoing message to the rebels, or even mentioning it offhand to the Empress. He didn’t know if he wanted to. The Empress gave him everything, she gave him status and gifts and he served as her comfort and her informant. Bricks wanted to take that all away-- He wanted to ruin everything Eridan had worked so hard for and send him back to step one in the dirt with rebels. Rebels that Eridan had burned so many bridges with it might as well be a scrapyard, that had said to his face and beyond that he would never be welcome until he shaped up. He’d shaped up, he’d shipped out into the stars, and crafted himself into something better that neither Feferi nor any of her other cronies could hope to touch. “I… Yeah. I did.”

Bricks’ face fell, only for him to scream as Captor swiped out with the psionic blade and separated the engineer’s hand from his wrist with crunching bone and the smell of seared flesh. The hand skidded across the floor, smearing a trail of olive blood along the floor and landing at Eridan’s feet. Eridan stared down at it as Davrot and Gamzee let Bricks crumple to the ground, clutching his arm and screaming.

He only looked up as Captor advanced on him, schooling his face back into the blank slate the Empress had taught him. A thin line of yellow blood snaked down the interrogatormentor’s face from his nose due to no doubt immeasurable strain required by him wielding that blade. “Keep this close as a reminder to your crew. I trust you’ll do the right thing,” Captor said. He bent down and picked up the hand, and dropped it into Eridan’s. Eridan’s muscles tensed to throw it away, stomach rolling, but he only stared down at it, conditioned by this point to be totally numb as every instinct screamed at him to do something. Instead, he could be good. He could do nothing. The Empress would be proud of him, or at least he hoped as much. 

He snapped back to attention as Captor inclined his head and spoke again. “Long live the Empire.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Eridan said, straightening his back as he automatically saluted, expression schooled into a blank mask, the drunken flush from earlier banished from his face. “Long live the Empire.”

Captor swiped at the trickle of blood on his face with his thumb and nodded, turning on his heel. The two purples flanked him again, bringing up the rear as they disappeared down the hall.

Eridan dropped the hand the moment the interrogatormentors went out of sight, skin crawling, but he couldn’t bring himself to so much as whimper. He couldn’t trust his crew. He couldn’t trust his memory. He could only trust the Empress, that she would recognize the dangers pointing daggers at his back and save him, as she no doubt had in sending interrogatormentors to his ship.

He shut the door to his blocks, leaving Bricks sobbing on the floor. He didn’t feel anything, anything at all. Even as he sent the Captain a message about the incident and Bricks writhed on the floor in pain outside his blocks he felt nothing, the tears that finally spilled from his eyes more a physical response to the lingering smell of charred flesh in his nose more than anything. He’d have to do something about the hand eventually, and he wouldn’t put it past a sadistic interrogatormentor to actually make sure he kept the hand on display somewhere. That definitely would not win him any brownie points with the crew, especially with how alienated he felt from them by this point. He doubted even Shakes would give him the time of day after this, with what he let happen to Bricks. Fuck, he needed another drink.

They’d told him in Fleet Academy that space was vast, that space was empty and cruel and cold. But no one had told him, they didn’t warn him, that space was so fucking lonely. 

[thethirdwheel404]

Med Rewatch Series (#1)

Right, monkey brain said no sleep no rest, only suffering at the hands of med.

I am going to start with the first episode of S2: Soul Care. Reasoning? I need to check if Latham references Ava in his first interaction with Connor.

If my memory serves me right, when Connor is passed over to Latham for his fellowship, Latham says that he was not his first choice. In fact, his first choice was a brilliant surgeon from South Africa. In the first episode of S2, a season where Ava Bekker is only introduced with one line at the end of the last episode.

If I remember correctly and Latham does actually say that in the first ep of s2, it will be huge for the continuity (and my theory that I came up with today, if you’re interested in following this you should really read that really long post that came a little before this where the basis of the theory is laid out). 

Also in rewatching this I see more of Sarah which, again, I have not seen in two years, and she was the reason I became invested in the show, and the reason I stopped watching after she left.

And all of this even before I start the episode.

There are so many emotions and thoughts running through my brain it literally hurts. I think i’m getting a headache. I’m already really regretting this, this cannot be healthy for me.

(btw, this will basically be a train of thought type thing, I’ll do my best to keep it coherent)

- omg its starting

- i completely forgot how s1 ended but its not importnat in anyway

- just, why are they in a helicopter

- how fast does the episode move ive forgotten and i need to know

-JESUS CHRIST SO DRAMATIC

- THE BEGINNING WITH WILL WHY

- it is at this point where I apologize to all those who made it this far bc we’re literally not even 30 seconds in yet

- i just have a lot of med thoughts

- oh god save me

- i am laughing hysterically

- JESUS CHRIST THE APRIL TB STORYLINE AND TATE WTF

- god that feels like a lifetime ago it was relevant holyshit

-remember when she was pregnant?

- literally what have I missed

- side note, i really like the cup april drinks out of.

-THERE SHE IS

-SARAH

-SHE’S HERE

-and she’s a barista

-literally wtf is this show

-and the dramatic music is still going literally chill man god

-THE WAY SARAH SMILES HOLY SHITTTT come on man there was literally no way i’d survive this but fuck not even a minute in...

- okay but i never understood charles’ family scenario but this is already too fucking long for a minute in so i hope we can just skip past that

-hahahah sharon’s fucking divorce? holy shit, this is too dramatic for the first ep literally save me (at least she acts well)

-yeah the one thing I will say about med (thats a lie ive already said a hundred but yk) is that for the crap storylines and all, the actors take what they’re given and give it their all and i appreciate it so much

-the helicopter’s number is N365UCC and just... succ

-ethans bird (!)

-also the fact that’s so big for ethan to be chief resident is so weird to me. like the last medical drama I watched was greys and they are all like grizzled veterans and have been doing that stuff for actual decades and i tend to put med and greys on like the same level bc they are the only medical dramas ive watched but.. holy crap the people on med are so young?? half their main cast is med students and residents. when nearly every main character on greys is a department head. its wild.

-proud of ethan. proud of my boy (did you know that adam jacobs who played aladdin on broadway was in a s3 episode? fun facts) (fun fact: did you know that ava is the only main character on the show who’s status is now deceased? I’ll shut up now.)

-oh my god i say roland buck III’s name and GOD noah jesus

- i find noah incredibly annoying, especially bc he tries to overshadow reese (my fav) but also just bc hes spoiled [that thing that said that one of the biggest mistakes med made was not having sarah get the emergency med residency at the end of s1 comes to mine, and the fact that noah got his residency easy peasy] - but, i will say that the moment at the end of this season where noah and reese dance together at the party is very adorable. (pre reesker brain showing lmao I really did love sarah with my whole heart) (moreover my snapchat memories were filled with just recordings of reese scenes lmaooooo)

-okay at this point I need to stop once i get to the potential ava thing bc what is happening we’re not even two minutes in why is this so long. (so many thoughts)

- i find will annoying but,,, he is kind of nice to look at. and what i mean is like facial acting (i am a lesbian). like. just. don’t speak. and when he’s being a good character he’s fine. it’s very few and very far between ig

-natalie annoys me so much and shes only had one line, and it wasn’t even a character line, it was mainly exposition.

-EW

-FUCKING EW

-ITS CONNOR HE’S HERE. god i forgot what he looked like in red scrubs and his poofy hair. child compared to s3 and s4. hopefully we see latham soon so we all don’t have to suffer through this. and he looks so angsty. he definetly glowed up in the later seasons.

- i have no clue how to spell definetly. I am guessing literally everytime.

-latham please come and end this all.

-oh haha there’s downey hes dead.

-okay so i actually watched s1 after i watched s2 which is so weird to think about. like that means that i liked s2 so much that i BOUGHT THE DVD FOR S1. yeah. I liked it that much (it really only means I was that much of a simp for sarah). but it also means that technically i watched s1 after i met ava?? like i honestly had NO CLUE what was in my future. did young me ever think she was going to stay up late at night, avoiding history hw while analyzing a defunct character from this show on a whim? a character i was super annoyed with at the beginning? who has no become a huge part of my personality? honestly? no. no she did not.

-and the story with downey was so jarring. and the story with zanetti. like i think i first started watching with the first ep of s2 (the one im talking about rn) and i was a bit lost. so going back and watch s1 to like connect the dots. but i never expected the dots to look like that. its like each season of this show is a completely different show from all the other seasons. like i’ve said before, this show is a headache. but literally latham please come and end this for now.

-GOD CONNOR LOOKS SO YOUNG WHAT THE HELL thats so weird lmaooooo

- like i had absolutely no clue who downey was going into this. and they they started talking like ‘oh yeah he killed his attending’ and i was just like ‘damn bro ill cheers to that’

- that’s literally ava’s first line actually. “i heard your girlfriend went insane and you murdered your attending.” - which was why she was hated at first. that was literally her first line to connor which is like, so hilariously rude that it was instantly iconic.

-also HAHAHAHAH CUE FUCKING ANGST ABOUT CONNOR HURTING EVERYONE AROUND HIM WTF BRO THE EFFECT YOU HAVE ON PEOPLE

- but i’m also sad now. --- “I heard your girlfriend went insane.” Oh. Oh, sweetie. Ava... No. --- but why does s2 ava (all two lines) foreshadow s4 ava in so many ways. like literally what were the writers on.

-baghdad.

-ah yes. the return of baghdad. been a long time since i heard that one, but it is easily one of my favorite running things about med. its just a little detail but the nick name is like perfect. (when i read fanfic where the chars are actually doing doctor stuff in the hospital it makes me light up) the WORLD BUILDINGGGGG. but whatever

-this is the girl who has the fake baby right? that was a really good ep (bc sarah content. can you see my favorites? for the same reason the one where the girl has split personalities easily ranks high with me.) oh wait this is the one where the dad like dies but then comes back for a split second to see his grand child. there’s not really a lot I can say about that, but the fact that i remember it vividly is... weird.

-okay but I actually love the ED in this show. I love how the show is centered around the ED and not the OR like greys. its fast paced, you see a lot about the characters really quickly (one of the reason’s connor’s intro to the hospital in the pilot is certified iconic in my mind [his interactions with will are gold]). the team works well together (usually, when things are good. - which is another reason I hated the show more as time went on. The personal lives interfered more and more and more with their work as time went on. it got so annoying). but like right here will just calls maggies name and maggie is just On It. I love it. I love the fast pace. it’s why this show got me to come back. so many things happen, it overloads my brain, like the way a video game works y occupying all of your attention.

-when is the dad gonna pass out i’m just waiting

-AHAHAHAHAHA JEFF NOOOOO. what even was the deal with jeff that storyline annoyed me so much I never got it. he was friends with nat’s husband (who died) and they were both named Jeff? and she actually ended up getting with Jeff a few times?

- the more you watch med and see how the characters get with each other, the more jaded you become

-omg they’re transferring the girl to the bed i love it when they count

-maggie was great but from what i heard/read they ruined her character too??? just not the same

-lmao only real g’s remember the chicago fire backdoor med pilot (if you want an explanation ask me lmao it was a ride)

- i was a real med simp bc I bought that episode on apple video.

-ahahaha this is so stupid. Jeff tries to do things and Will (being a fucking asshole and jealous, doesnt’ let him). he’s a med student let him fucking learn. also i remember why i hated will

-okay but if you look at greys vs. med, greys literally gives their med students no rights. scratch that. they give they’re interns little to no rights. (i only watched the last three seasons bc lesbian, but in those seasons they introduce the bottom of the totem pole, the sub I’s, who are a step ahead of med students, yet they are jokes on the show.) its just a weird juxtaposition is all.

-”lungs are wet.” dramatic music intensifies.

-OKAY BUT I LITERALLY FORGOT NATALIE SPECIALIZED IN PEDS. LIKE I COMPLETELY 100% FORGOT. HOLY SHIT THATS SO FUNNY i can’t believe in my mass hyperfixation i forgot, just more proof that she doesn’t deserve anything.

-why did will make nat do that call? also idk why but is it weird to anyone else when the characters call each other but just.. their names.

-ahahahah i laugh literally everytime i remember that will is supposed to be in charge like he is threatened by anything that MOVES. (also more juxtapositon to greys bc here the attendings are treated as a joke!)

- hly shit i just remember monday mourning and god damn the angst literally never takes a day off but whatever.

- i dont usually get like this but the dad’s acting here is actually making me sad lol. Usually i get annoyed when family members get emotional (im weird uhhhh)

-why did we have to watch the tube being put in for so long - med is so dramatic this fucking show whyyyy

- i bet u the dad is gonna pass out

-oh ig not oops

-OKAY FUCK ME THAT LITERALLY ONLY TOOK US TO THE TITLES HOW DO I HAVE THESE MANY FUCKING THOUGHTS.

-wait latham introduction we may just be able to call it here.

-haha i fucking hate him (connor). he just... comes off so fake-charming its annoying. i cant get over it lmao

-okay but literally every gives connor shit and I am here for it. Latham: “did you kill him?”

- it is literally so funny but annoy how connor throws hands with literally everyone in his path (like dude just chill come onnn)

-okay. okay. okay. finally the part i was waiting for.

- Latham: I preferred a young woman from Groote Schuur, but I was outvoted.

That’s an actual quote, from Latham. For those who are wondering, Groote Schuur is a famous hospital in, you guessed it, South Africa. This is where I’m calling the episode. This is all I needed.

I just want to restate. This is the first episode of season 2. Ava Bekker is introduced to the show in the last episode of season 2. What does this mean, my friends? It means everything.

For those of you who stuck through to the end, I am very thankful. Here we have probably the first piece of evidence to my theory, at least chronologically.

I, personally, think it’s absurd I remembered this point, but I did. That point, that line, presently, watching this episode with no idea of what the future holds, is only there to tell us that Latham and Connor are not going to agree. But this is the single greatest piece of foreshadowing med has ever done.

Med has never planned anything. I feel confident when I say that. Look at their storylines. They are literally on fire, and every decision the characters make reads like the writers going ‘we have no idea how we made it this far, we thought we would get stopped like ten steps ago.’

When has med ever planned things more than a few episodes in advanced, honestly? Almost never, and going a full season sitting on a plot point, that’s major. This was the first time med has ever planned something miles in advance.

In all honestly, yes I am probably giving the med writers a lot more credit than they deserve. It’s quite possible that as the season progressed they just decided connor needed a new love interest or at least a new dynamic, so they could have just easily looked back and thought ‘oh, hey, here’s a fun little thing we said earlier in the season, wouldn’t it be fun if it paid off?’ That could be true.

Here’s why it probably isn’t. The med writers have no respect for their own continuity. you really think that, in order to come up with a whole new character, they went back to the first episode of the season and paid off a line that is said in less than 2 seconds? no way. Bull. Shit.

honestly, it is probably equally unlikely that either of these things happened. The med writers don’t look back at their story. It’s true, but they also don’t plan things in advance either.

here’s the thing, the more i write, the more absurd it starts to sound. Yeah. Sure. the med writers sat on a character for an entire season, that’s totally a thing that happened and not sarcasm. When pigs fly. everyone knows med is impulsive and messy. But what I am saying is that they planned one thing. One thing.

Ava has an accent. That was a commitment. A pretty uncommon one too. South Africa is such an out of the box choice that god its barely on the map. It asks a lot of someone to act hard while also doing an uncommon accent. If the med writers just decided they needed to give connor a new dynamic, they could have made it a n y o n e. Yeah, sure it would have been nice to have the latham dynamic with the new character, but it would have been so much easier to just create a new character that doesn’t have such a commitment. We all know people who play opposite of Connor Rhodes do not stay around that long.

There is absolutely no reason Connor’s s3 love interest had to be the girl from South Africa. It could have literally been anyone. They could have kept Robin on. They could have made the new character not have so many specific requirements.

At this point, I’m pushing this really hard. Yeah, obviously Ava was planned from the beginning of s2. She had to be. It’s way too specific to be anything else.

What I’m pointing out here is med has never done that before. (at least to my knowledge, if i’m wrong please tell me i don’t want to be a fool) They have never had such a concrete plan for a character, so much as to tease them a full season before they were introduced.

I’m saying, that Ava was special. She was the only character who was teased ahead of her arrival. The one who they knew they wanted, other than the originals, and honestly saying the ‘knew what they wanted to do with the originals’ is being generous. But Ava was different. They had big plans for Ava.

It’s undeniable. Ava was the only character who was planned and teased ahead of her arrival. Ava has such a different style and character than anyone else on the show. She was always planned to be, even when she was just being teased, a rival to connor, meaning she could stand her own against him (or without him).

Now of course, the med writers forgot this when writing s4 and s5. But for the purposes of the important things, all that really matters are the two mentions in s2, and what happens in s3. (for the theory at least).

In conclusion: think about how odd it is that Ava was the only character that was planned over the course of the show. Like sure the characters are planned, but never this far in advance. Med writers don’t really plan anything. I would be shocked if they did anything but through a dart at a spinning wheel. But they had plans for Ava, and they had plans for s3, when she was good.

Think about how odd it is that the med writers had a character planned from the start of s2, that they sat on for a whole season. They never, ever did something so slow and deliberate. Never. It goes against their formula. Like a fucking shark, they have to be moving or they die, at least in their heads. But Ava was always a change to the formula. They had a plan for s3.

that’s it for now. we will see what happens when i watch the last episode of s2.

read the next parts:

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Extra

[bma-2020]

Okiedok here’s the delio. I have a list of all the blogs from the last six months who’s actively either responded to a meme i sent, responded to a message ive sent, replied to something regarding mally herself, has actually written with me, written a starter for me from my liking a starter call, has at least liked a starter i wrote for them to awknowedge it exists, all that jazz, i have a lot of open field so it’s not just a possible tumblr didnt let them no option anymore, because i send memes to everyone who posts them that i see. I reply to most peoples ooc posts. I like most starter calls I pass by. I try my darndest to actually interact bc i know how it feels to be ignored and its… i’ve been called one before so i’m using the word, thats fluffing cunty behavior, and honestly if you complain about not being interacted with but never even try when i try with you, ya being cunty, end of. I gotta list. That list only entails Mally because she’s who I care about the most. I’m probably gonna start instilling a new rule in all my blogs that if you ignore Mally and/or Darcy( @tasedandconfused ), since I would say they’re my two main blogs tho darcy gets ignored even more than mally does, probably bc i denied canon and left it entirely we know fandom hates that, if either of them is ignored then… Ya out of luck, I’m gonna unfollow you. I’m debating soft blocking everyone who ignored me on both of them but I don’t want to like be mean and deny the chance to eventually try again but at the same time i shouldnt feel bad for taking a stand and saying this is bullsheet, idk my anxiety says im awful for giving a fluff about myself but also i should give a fluff about myself probably, ive nearly died in the last three months, my brain almost exploded, i just had three root canals on one corner of my face, i have to potentially get surgery on my inner ear which i cant even afford, i dont got time to deal with only being used for like smut memes or like as a resource blog or utter bs like that, i dont got time for it. So new rules here. 1: If Mally or Darcy are not acknowledged, written with, responded to, viewed as more than just their fluffing bodies? ya dropped, im unfollowing, potentially soft blocking, which means blocking and unblocking for those not in the know, on all accounts I follow you on. Every single one. I know most of my muses are on sideblogs but despite not being able to send memes from sideblogs you can block people from sideblogs fun fact, i will do that if i have to. 2: I’m gonna be posting SCs, PCs, memes, etc. I like and respond to plotting calls, starter calls, i send memes, all of that. If I don’t get any response within.. I’m giving one week for people who don’t run on a queue and a month and a half to people on a queue based system, if i dont get anything within that time like at least an im being like ‘its posted’ or ‘its queued i wanted to let you know in case tumblrs a fluffbutt’ (i do this sometimes if i dont get even just a like on the starters i post so i at least know people saw it since i know tumblrs bs, i wait until the day they’re active to do so in case theyre busy yknow) basically i need acknowledgment at all. No you can’t claim this is abt follower count bc when you unfollow someone they inevitably unfollow you too, thats gonna drop my following, not as quickly as soft blocking would but i wanna be fair i guess, which leads to: 3: I’m basing this on your activity too, like if i like a think and you’re gone for a month after that its fine, im not gonna unfollow you unless you never come back or youre online and posting others just not mine because that tells me youre specifically ignoring me and im gonna drop you for that end of. I’m done with the bullsheet im done w the dillish behavior, i love friendship but if im giving and never receiving thats extremely one way and not gonna work. I check through my follow list weekly and i go back about five-10 pages on someones feed before i unfollow them to see their actual activity and see if theyre here or if its a q so. I’m thorough basically. 4: You dont have to be active with me on all your blogs, i mean i’d prefer it but thats hard as fluff so essentially if you have like five blogs and are just like trying w me on two or three thats fine. Ten blogs, four or five with at least a plot formed is cool. Multis just one muse is all I’d need. I’m not gonna unfollow the blogs youre not writing w me on if you at least write w me on some. Again, specifically Mally and/or Darcy. If you ignore both of them, we’re done. I havent been active on darcy because of being ignored and its a huge butt mess and im just tired i wanna use my babies, you don’t get to have my ‘better’ muses like i know a lot of ppl only follow me for my boys or my villains, you don’t get them if you ignore my baby. But, there is a limit there too. 5: If you never respond to a meme or thread even once with Mally or Darcy, or post a starter, i reply, its never replied to again after a month, I’m unfollowing and/or soft blocking for that too. Bc that means youre just raising my hopes to fluff with me or get someone else and honestly, youre even more cunty than than the people just flat out ignoring me if you do that. And this isnt a specific person, this is five of the people actually on my list. Yes, my list is also annotated with specifics again I was very thorough on this yesterday, I hyperfixated I’ll admit it, I’m in a fluffing depressionary bubble and being told to get over it because people want something they dont deserve to have to. I am a believer that people deserve good things but if youre purposefully being cunty… no you dont. 6: No I’m not releasing my list, maybe I will and I’ll omit the urls because I don’t want people being buttholes to each other too but otherwise, yall not seeing it im not giving a callout because… really thats just unnecessary here. I don’t think yall are toxic people or something i just think yall are unintentionally being cunty. And no I don’t mean everyone that follows me i mean the ppl that add up to what i’ve documented so far and fit the bill of butthat that i’ve shown, its behaviors yall gotta check before ya wreck. Yes there will be some people who have priority, everyone has those people, I write w kathryn on other platforms since she doesnt go on here as often but when Kathryn returns from war here (if she does cause she also agrees most ppl on this platform are cunty, i feel really bad saying that word so often but im gonna keep doing it i recently deleted an ask saying I was a huge cunt for not sending someone smut memes when I didn’t even follow them or know they existed so, again the travesty of this place is nutballers) same with owly, alex is here too, my most active partners are always going to be priority because theyre the ones who show the most interest and the most care. I understand that with others as well which is why I have the timeframe set up, because I want to be as open and shizz as possible while atill being firm i guess. I don’t want to have extreme double standards like its impossible for double standards not to exist at least a little bit but I want to avoid a golden chest full of them I guess. 7: I don’t have a seven rn, this was an even number and it bothered me. Seven is nust my warning that I’m bittery writing this on mobile so formatting is not real but i tried my dandest to make this look like something people might actually mind. I dont want to be butty, i dont want to be awful, i dont want to start drama or have drama but that shizz comes around anyways so i might as well make my space as okay for me as i can cause im supposed to avoid stress so my brain doesnt almost explode again, like again i almost fluffing died i dont need ppl fake being my friend or anything, i want stuff to be real and clear. I want to be happy to be on here again and have fun like i used to since my health is plummetting and I’m not allowed to go outside near plants by myself anymore because i welt up. I have plants outside my work place and im surrounded by chemicals all day long I’m welted from here to new york constantly and never comfortable in my own skin because of it and constantly see people online acting like these actual real problems are pretentious because ‘its an excuse’ when, im a fluffing sagittarius, do you know how much i want to magically be a millionaire so i can pay for friends and my own medical stuff and go on traveling and adventures, be outside probably not camping bc as a pagan i know thats a death sentence but like be outside, lay on grass, go back to swimming because i used to swim competitively and due to health reasons i can barely even go in a pool anymore because theres too much sunlight which, bit plot twist i know, im fluffing allergic to vitamin D and the rays of the sun, so go figure, attempts to be healthy kill me more, i also cant eat most plants and am constantly dying from just eating food, they dont know whats wrong with me. i cant fix it by going ve/gan for a month inf act i tried and it almost made my heart stop thanks society. These arent excuses these are the lives of disabled and diseased and to a lesser but still very real point, ethnic lives every fluffing day. This is real shit and its murder and online and gaming? It may be all I have soon since I can’t just go out and make new friends cause, again, I’d fluffing die. I get sick going to the mall or the movie theater, I miss theme parks so much but have to minimize it to weeks i dont have work so i dont get fired for having a welt while working in the beauty industry. I may have to get a degree online and change my field entirely because of my illness that nobody understands. People even make fun of it constantly online and I wish I could just drop online entirely because of how unbelievably ableist the entirety of the world is, i wish i could drop humans in general for their ableism, but i cant. I don’t have choices in most cases, but throwing away people who maybe purposefully maybe unintentionally thats why i’m giving you this warning and will be repeating this warning for awhile, this is where i have choice. I have to use what little choice I have in life while I can since everytime i go to movies or a concert or a theme park i almost die because of not having an immune system that functions or being in certain air qualities pr being near plants or unclean people, I may not have much time and I gotta do whats best for what little mental health I have, and if that means dropping people i care about and really want to write with and do things with but who ignore me then, i guess so be it.

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.5

why is it almost 9 and im tired already smh

anyway, i almost titled this part 5 because i dont know what numbers are

update im a dumbass bc this was, indeed, part 5

warnings: uhhh sick moments. hospitals. guilt. squip aftermath. mentions of nightmares. 

       You woke up days later in the hospital.

       The first thing that happened was a blur of motions: you trying to rip out your IV as you panicked, and a nurse who just opened the door grabbed you by the wrist to stop you before you did any true damage. Then came a thousand questions from a thousand people, all trying to pinpoint the when and why and how and what happened that you could barely remember at that moment. When your breathing picked up and panic set in, the room was cleared save for a single person taking vitals. When he left, you were alone. The room felt cold. The room was silent-

       Wait.

       The room was silent.

       Oh, god, the room was silent.

       It was gone. Your thoughts were your own again, yet it still felt as if a piece of you had been snapped off. Broken off. Crumbled away over time, yet - yet... how long had you been out? Hours? A day? You couldn’t completely recall. You remembered someone asking you the date, the time, the anything, but... it slipped your mind far too quickly as a thousand other questions followed suit. You squinted at the whiteboard on the wall across from you, stamped into the corner, and red dry-erase marker spelling out the date.

       Barely two days. That was good. You were... you were fine. You were okay. This was okay. Two days was okay. Two days was much less than what Rich dealt with-

       Oh. Fuck, Rich - had he woken up? He must still be in the hospital - was - were you in the same one? Fuck, you felt foggier than ever. Like the pieces wouldn’t connect, yet lined up perfectly. Every little bit of pressure merely popped the piece apart again, and it left nothing but frustration to fill the space between. You’d have to see him as soon as you could.

       The first person who came to see you (not quite counting your parents) was Christine Canigula with a pretty bouquet of sunflowers in her arms. Her purse bounced against her hip with every step around the room (mainly due to her trying to find a nice place to set the flowers down), and she finally gently sat at the end of your bed and talked to you happily about everything that had gone on within the past few days. She opened her bag, fishing out a small little bag of assorted goodies that she placed in your hands.

       “I thought you could use something nice,” she smiled, “I hope you get out of here soon.” When you couldn’t muster up anything past a weak smile, she continued, “Rich actually asked about you, when I saw him earlier.” 

       You looked up. “He did?” You asked, voice quiet and broken.

       “Yeah!” She chirped, “he woke up the other day, actually,” she drummed her fingers against her leg, “

       The second was Michael. Michael, who had a ball of emotions choking him as he searched for the right thing to say to you. Worried and angry and upset and... relieved. All of it evaporated as you told him everything. Every detail, every action explained - and he realized what lied beyond the glimpse you’d given him while you looked as if you were trying to escape his house. He sat on the edge of your bed in stunned silence, just staring at the floor as you felt guilt creep into your stomach. 

       “Michael?” You finally said, voice quiet. “I’m... I’m sorry.” You paused, “for everything. You - you don’t have to forgive me, but...”

       “You used me.” He said. You could hear the underlying anger dripping from those three words alone. 

       “I know.” You swallowed your emotions. “I’m... I know it was awful and I should have fought more to not do that, but...” 

       He finally looked back at you. “So,uh... how much of that was real, then?” 

       You opened your mouth to answer, only to stop for a moment, looking away. “I... I don’t really know,” you said, voice cracking and giving you away entirely. “Shit.” 

       “I mean-” He said, “you were - it was weird, [y/n]. One minute you’d be one way, and then... you were, y’know, you. It was like things never changed.” 

       That hit you hard. “Michael?” You choked out his name, before continuing, “please don’t tell Jeremy.”

       “What?” He stared at you, “[y/n], he deserves to know-”

       “No! I mean - he does,” you clarified, “I just - I need to tell him this myself.” 

       He bit his tongue for a moment. “I, uh, I think I’m gonna have to tell him some things before he loses his shit, [y/n]. He was fuckin’ freaked when the ambulance drove off.” 

       After a moment of stunned quiet, you mustered up a quick nod. “Right. Just - don’t tell him everything, alright?”

       The conversation had died there. After a few more minutes of silence, Michael stood and made his way to leave - rattling off the usual “get well soon” message that you expected.

       “Michael?” You called out, and he stopped. “Thank you for coming to see me. I... I appreciate it.” 

       His smile had faded, and he nodded a little. “Yeah...” He looked back at you, and he looked so soft and genuine that time. “Later, [y/n].”

       The next day, Jeremy was shoved into your room without much of a chance to gather his bearings. True to his word, Michael had explained a few things while leaving Jeremy pretty in the dark on what had happened. The hardest thing was looking at Jeremy and telling him the rest of your story. That you had wasted six hundred dollars on a stupid, shitty pill that you thought would help you. A pill that you thought would help you essentially get Jeremy to reciprocate the feelings that you bit back and hid underneath everything. You lied through your teeth that you had just wanted him and Michael back. You couldn’t just... admit that you had a crush on him, could you?

       He reached out and laid a hand on your own. “Michael told me.” 

       Shit. Fuck. Nope. You nearly hit the button for a nurse in that moment to try and see if you could get him out. What the fuck, Michael? “He told you...?”

       “Look,” he said, “I’m flattered, [y/n], I just... I like someone else. I mean, you’re - you’re cool and all, but-” 

       “I get it, Jeremy.” You said. “I... I understand.” You paused for a moment, “but... I did miss you and Michael, y’know.”

       “Why’d we stop hanging out?” Jeremy asked.

       Something inside of you hurt at that question. “I don’t know.” And that was true, to say the least. You had your suspicions, sure, but at the end of the day, the why rested without an answer. 

       He stared at you. “Wait...” He trailed off, before looking away. “Oh.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “shit.” He looked back at you, “hey, uh, I’m - I’m sorry for dropping you like that- I just-” 

       “I get it.” Which was sort-of the truth, at least. “You don’t have to apologize, Jeremy.”

       “... Okay,” he said after a moment, “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in school,” he stood, “feel better soon-” 

       And then he was gone.

       Three months later, and you were still haunted by a voice in your head every so often. You started therapy shortly after you were released from the hospital, the mystery of what happened to you remaining as such. You started medication soon after, your depression having grown worse post-SQUIP (and your father had been glad for you getting help, since he’d admitted it hurt him to watch you suffer for so long while being unsure of what to actually do to help you). You attended group therapy outside of Metuchen.

       You had Rich. Rich, who picked you up on Thursday nights to drive you to group and back again. Rich, who knew how you felt and hid his guilt for pulling you into this shitty world of trauma and pain that’d haunt you for who knows how long. Rich, who slung his arm around your waist casually when the two of you were hanging out and was touchy with you in a way that made you feel safe and secure. You had Rich at your side, the friend that you honestly had never expected to have but were glad for at the end of the day. While you wished he didn’t feel the pain that you did, it was almost... nice to know that someone else understood.

       At two in the morning, one mid-February day, he called you.

       “Another nightmare?”

       “Yeah... you?”

       “Yeah.” A pause. “You wanna talk about it?”

       “Yep,” he dragged the word out. “Uh - do you...?”

       “You go first, Rich.”

      His phone must have been on speaker, because you heard the sound of him shifting in bed - blanket swooshing as he probably turned over onto his side. “Same old shit.” He began, “I, uh, was in Jake’s house, and... it was on fire. My, uh... It was there.” He paused for a moment, “y’know. Saying the same shit.” You didn’t have to see Rich to know he was touching his neck, fingers running along the scars there. “What about you?”

      Your phone was lying beside your head. Shutting your eyes, you took a breath before exhaling slowly. “It was, uh, actually... good for once. I mean - it started good. I was... I was with Jeremy. I... think we were dating? I don’t know - we were holding hands and I had let go and walked ahead only to notice he was standing still, and - it... it’s weird, Rich, but - I swear there was some kind of stupid circuit pattern that, like, trailed down his neck - and... and his smile, Rich-” You paused, taking a shaky breath, “and then I heard it.” Another long pause. “Then I woke up.”

      You heard Rich suck in a breath. For the longest time, there was silence on the other end. Despite not hearing any chimes to indicate it, you thought that maybe he had hung up. But then he spoke, voice quiet and broken, “why did you say yes?”

      “What?”

      “To - to buying it, [y/n].”

      You stared up at your ceiling. Soon enough, you kicked off your blankets as you grew too hot for comfort, shifting against to try and find some sort of comfortable position. “You sold it pretty well, I guess.” You started, before biting your lip for a moment, “I thought it could help me.”

      “... With?”

      You changed the topic. “Why’d you take it?”

      No response.

      “Rich?”

      “Gretch is gonna fucking suck tomorrow.” 

      “... Yeah.”

      “You wanna skip?”

      No, you wanted to say. But you shrugged. “Yeah. Where are we doing?”

      “Fuck, I don’t know - Wawa?”

      “Sure.”

      Rich’s truck was like a second home to you, between the times the two of you skipped classes and every drive to and from therapy. The two of you skipped class too often - sometimes morning classes, sometimes afternoon, it always depended on how the two of you were doing. Sometimes you’d sit in the Wawa parking lot, eating breakfast or lunch, enjoying the rebellious freedom that came with skipping class. The guilt would stay in the backseat, a constant reminder of your fuck-ups, but... you were glad to have a moment to breathe.

      Rich’s hand found yours that morning. He squeezed it. For a minute, there were just two broken teens sitting together, holding hands, trying to feel less broken together. 

         Over a week later, you texted Rich after hearing it - or, at least, you thought you did. He told you to call Michael - closer to you, and carrier of the Mountain Dew Red at you and Rich’s mutual request. Your finger lingered over Michael’s contact information when a thought struck you, hard and heavy. Why call him? Why not let it come back and fix what it had done? You felt broken enough - how much more damage could it do to you? Besides... now you knew how to take care of it. Maybe that knowledge would be enough to help you gain some sort of control over it.

        An hour later, Rich texted you saying Michael hadn’t heard from you. Another hour passed. He told you he was coming over. You couldn’t respond, staring at your phone blankly as tears began to well up. Thirty minutes later, rocks hit your window. Five minutes later, Rich was sitting on the end of your bed as you curled back up, the bottle sitting on the bed between the two of you. He looked tired, running a hand nervously through his hair as he didn’t meet your eyes.

        “I know.” He said, breaking the silence. “Just - don’t fucking do it, okay?”

        You broke your gaze away from the bottle. “What?”

        “I... I’ve thought about it too,” he said, quieter this time. “But... I think...” He paused, “it’s just a bad idea, alright?”

        “It can’t-”

        “It can.” He stressed, before grabbing the bottle with one hand and your hand in the other. He pressed the bottle into your hand, curling your fingers around it in a cliche action. “Just - fucking drink it, [y/n]. I’m tired.”

        “You can stay here tonight.”

        “Nah,” he stood. “I... need to get home soon. Just... drink it, alright?”

        He didn’t leave you until you finally obliged.

        The chill in the air that came with early March was no match for the chill you felt whenever you were around Michael. But Michael had the soda, and Rich lived farther away from you, so he became your lifeline whenever you felt the prickly feeling that came with every nightmare of it and he, thankfully without much complaint, would show up on your front lawn. You sat next to him in silence, an half-empty bottle of Mountain Dew Red sitting in your lap as Michael quietly looked up at the stars. The feeling in your stomach almost seemed to weigh you down, keeping you in place until Michael decided he’d had enough, until he gave up on sitting with you.

        But he didn’t. He just sat there in silence, wearing his signature red hoodie in an attempt to keep himself warm. His breath colored the air with a puff of white as he exhaled. It was too cold for this shit, and yet... he sat with you. 

        “What was it like?” He began at one point, slowly looking over to you. “Y’know... the...” He paused, before tapping his temple, as if you hadn’t understood before. But you understood the why there. 

        “Like I was a puppet,” you said, echoing back something you’d said before in therapy. Almost completely subconsciously, you tugged at your sleeve. “I... I could disobey, but... it would get mad, and - and I didn’t like that, so I just... I did what it told me to. Sometimes, it would...” The ghost of a shock silenced you, and your breath hitched for a second as you try to regain some control over yourself.

        When Michael’s hand landed on your forearm, you flinched immediately. But before he could fully tear his hand away from you (having only just pulled it away slightly), you immediately shifted closer to him. Almost as if he understood, he opened himself to you, and - after hesitating for too many moments - you nearly collapsed into his arms, wrapping your own around his torso and burying your face in his neck. At first you had just wanted the comfort. The warmth of another person. But your breath went shaky, and before Michael could say or do anything else, he heard you choke back a sob before you clutched at the fabric of his hoodie. Every soft, broken apology sent pain rippling through him. He’d been so pissed with you before, and now...

       Now it was as if Michael was a child again, having seen the aftermath of hurricanes through Florida on the news. Or like the car accident he once witnessed, only staring before one of his moms tore him away from the sight, picking him up with ease and keeping his face turned away. He understood, all within that moment. He knew you were hurting, and in turn, he felt that pain too. He had hurt. He was in so much damn pain when he found out you’d originally just been using him, and now... he understood that maybe (or, perhaps, definitely, but a definite wasn’t quite there yet in his book) nothing had been your idea. Part of him wanted to look away from you, to give you some kind of privacy, and yet... you clung to him. You kept your face buried in his neck, hot tears wetting his skin, and you shook in his arms as you kept stammering out apology after apology for things that did and didn’t involve him. 

       That was when Michael decided that forgiveness was back on the table. Neither of you were ready to have that talk, but... the fact of the matter was that he let that option exist again. Every glimpse of you that had come flooding back to him when he visited you in the hospital seemed to haunt his memory once more. The real you. The you he hadn’t seen in so long. And, if he were honest, the you that he genuinely had begun to miss when your presence disappeared all that time ago.

       He was ready to try again, if you were there to meet him halfway.

       The following Wednesday came with a disgusting feeling of dread the moment that thunder clapped during your last class. You’d left your umbrella at home - clear skies, your weather app had lied - and chances were you were going to miss your bus when meeting with the guidance counselor quickly after school (because, of course, shit never worked out in your favor). So you clenched your jaw and pulled your bag close to you, taking off as the rain pounded against the pavement. You almost slipped, you could barely see through the rain, and you were already soaked to the bone by the time you were a fourth of the way home. When you heard a car coming down the street, you thought nothing of it until it slowed down, pulling over towards the side of the road and steadily crawling alongside you.

       Well, fuck, if you were about to die, at least you wouldn’t deal with-

       The car honked. When you turned, you immediately recognized the P.T. Cruiser and the two boys inside of it. Immediately, the passenger side window rolled down. “Get in, loser, we’re going shopping-” 

       “Michael-” You started to say, only to stop as you weigh your options. Get in the car and face Michael and Jeremy - or keep waking home in the rain. You barely even considered the latter as you pulled open the back door, throwing your bag in and immediately slipping into the warm car.

       The backseat was comfortable. It had always been comfortable, actually - that much was certain. Even when you were shivering endlessly, sopping-wet backpack lying in the floorboard between your legs as you rub your arms in some attempt to get warm, you felt strangely at home sitting in the back of Michael’s car. The sticker was still on the head-rest of the driver’s side. Jeremy kept looking back at you every so often as Michael made his way towards your house. The moment he turned onto your street, you went for your keys.

       And, of fucking course, you must have forgotten them that morning. So you ended up in Michael’s house, sitting on his bed in some of his spare clothes while your clothes are being oh-so-lovingly laundered by the ever-so-gracious Michael Mell. You toyed with the fabric of tee-shirt you were wearing, some indie band logo printed across the chest - something that felt so Michael, when you thought about it. Of course he’d have some obscure merch. You sat there with one of your class binders in your lap, working on homework when you finally get to geometry. As if to make the day even worse, you realized you were missing your calculator.

       “Shit,” you said, “fuck-” You looked up to Michael and Jeremy, “can I, uh, borrow a calculator? I think I left mine at school-”

       Jeremy stared at you for a split second before immediately going for his own bag. He stammered through a sentence, before he finally pulled out a familiar purple case and held it out to you. “I, uh, was going to give it to you tomorrow - I meant to give it back earlier but I, uh, forgot-”

       You took it gingerly from him, before kind-of smiling in return. “It’s fine,” you said, “thank you-” and then you cut yourself off with a sneeze, your arm flying to cover your mouth. 

       Michael chuckled a little as he laid back, stretching himself along the foot of his bed. “If you needed a ride, you should have just asked, ya goof,” he smiled at you.

       You nudged him with your foot. “Come on, Mell,” you said, “I thought I’d be fine.”

       “You’re lucky Jeremy saw you, y’know,” he said, “I didn’t notice you crossing the street earlier, so...”

       Jeremy flushed at the comment. Your gaze flickered from him back to Michael, “I thought you were driving, Michael.”

       “I was!” 

       “Aren’t you supposed to pay attention?”

       “I was!” He said again, sitting up, “you weren’t even crossing in front of me!” 

       “Thank god for that,” you said.

       “Wh- I wouldn’t hit you!”

       “That’s what they all say, Michael.” You smiled a little, “no, dude, I totally wouldn’t kill my wife, who would do that? Not me. I wouldn’t kill my wife-”

       “[y/n]!” Michael poked you in the leg, “come on - I don’t think I’d be that obvious-”

       “Are you seriously trying to say you’d be able to get away with that?” You said, only to notice how silent Jeremy had gone. When you looked back to him, you noticed that he had just sat there, watching you and Michael playfully bicker over his totally not real plans to murder someone. When your eyes meet his, he blinked, awkwardly smiling as he looked away and towards his phone. You barely get a glimpse of the time before you realized that your parents should be home.

       So Michael drove you (and Jeremy) home at long last, leaving you to thank him a thousand times on the way there and as you got out of the car. You barely had time to wave back at him before you crossed your front lawn to get to shelter, rain pelting you the entire time as you head inside with plans to tackle your homework.

       The next morning, you felt like shit. At three in the morning, you woke up with the grossest feeling taking hold of you and forcing you out of bed and to the bathroom. With a disgusting taste left in your mouth, you sank back, your senses completely muffled as you realized what had happened. Fever. Fuck. You pressed your back against the rim of the bathtub, and you breathed. Shit. Shit shit shit shit- you didn’t need to get sick. You skipped enough class as it was - this was only going to make shit worse.

       You didn’t realize you passed out shortly after until your dad stumbled across you. He woke you up gently, before helping you to your feet and helping your sluggish form back to your bedroom after pressing a cold hand against your forehead. Shaking his head, he walked you to your bed, leaving the room and returning with a cup of water to leave on your nightstand. He told you that he would be at work, but that your mom would drop by during her lunch break to check on you and hopefully bring some medicine. You barely processed it before you fell back asleep.

      The next time you woke up was around lunchtime. You still felt hazy and hot with fever, but the sound of your phone going off was enough to capture your attention. Michael. He had asked where you were, and you barely have enough energy to type out what you thought was just a simple “fever” - thankfully, auto-correct caught you - before you turned back over with the intent of going back to sleep. Barely ten minutes pass before your mom came in with a plastic bag in her hands, rattling off the contents of it before she felt your forehead. She told you to get some more rest. You happily obliged. 

      The next day, after a night of bland soup and forcing down your meds with ice cold water, you see a newly formed group chat with you, Michael, and Jeremy, poised proudly at the top of your messages. 

Michael: u guys need anything or

      You stared at the message. You guys? You barely have time to try and question it further when a text bubble popped up.

Jeremy: i’m good

You: what

You: you ok, jer?

Jeremy: no im sick

You: what

You: how???

Jeremy: you

Michael: jeremys being a little bitch

Michael: hes always like this when he’s sick

Michael: you need anything, [y/n]??

You: idk some good soup would be rad

You: my dad brought some gross shit last night and it sucked

You: parents got medicine. 

You: send me love.

You: and tissues

Jeremy: please let me sleep

You: sorry jer

Michael: kk

      Later that afternoon, the doorbell rang. You forced yourself out of bed, managing to get the front door open only to see a little plastic bag sitting right outside of it. You looked up to see Michael standing outside of his car, and you could only assume that he rushed back to his car to avoid exposure. He waved at you, only budging from his spot when you wave back at him. 

      Bless Michael Mell and the soup he brought you. You’d have to thank his mom. Or maybe both of them - they were both goddesses in your eyes. You only knew that Michael couldn’t cook for shit. 

      At midnight, you woke up again, a dull hunger restless in your stomach. You had left some soup for later, and you were fully ready to heat the rest of it up and devour it. You shoved the Tupperware bowl into the microwave, punching in a number before you swayed into the counter, leaning against it to keep yourself standing as the microwave buzzed. Strangely enough... it almost felt internal after a minute.

      Then you heard it. Your own name being cooed in a voice that sent shivers and a ghost of a shock through you. Glitching in and out. You panicked. You bolted, dashing to your room to find your phone. Your hands were shaking as you went to unlock it, fucking it up the first two times before finally getting it the last. You didn’t think. You went for the first number you saw. 

       The moment someone picked up,  you spoke. “Michael,” you said, voice caught in your throat, “shit - dude- it’s - it’s back-” You took a breath, trying to calm yourself before continuing, “just - I need the Mountain Dew Red. Please-”

      You heard a distant, groggy “...what?” on the other hand as a hand fell over your own, causing you to slowly lower the phone as it appeared before you.

      It stood tall as ever, eyes gentle, manipulating your senses as you swore you felt warmth from it’s hand over your’s. “We can fix this.” It said, voice quiet. Soft. Gentle. “We can start over and make everything right.” 

      “I...” You whimpered, attempting to take a step back. Instinctively, you dropped your phone and shut your eyes and covered your ears in an attempt to drown everything out. “No.” The word spilled past your lips once, twice, too many times as tears rolled down your cheeks.

      Fingers grazed your cheek almost lovingly. “Just let me fix this, [y/n].” It said softly, almost kind, and you felt your stomach drop. “You can reboot me - just - another dose of regular Mountain Dew-”

      “No,” you shook your head, “I’m - you’d-”       

      “I’ll fix this. I promise-”

      The sound of frantic knocking at your front door was enough to force you to your feet as you rushed to answer before anyone else could wake up. “Michael-”

      Jeremy stood there, soaking wet and panting like crazy as he clutched a bottle of salvation within his right hand. He straightened up a bit, holding it out to you. “Sorry - Michael, uh, gave me a few bottles as back-up so I ran-” He said. 

      He shut up the moment you flung your arms around him, burying your face in his chest, completely ignoring the soda he carried in favor of comfort. Just for a second. That’s all you had needed. He stiffened up underneath you as you clung to him, only for you to pull away almost immediately after.

      After you took the bottle and unscrewed the cap, downing the drink with nothing with a minor headache following in it’s wake, Jeremy could only stare at you. “You... You really heard it, huh?”

      You winced, breath hitching as you swayed slightly. Jeremy’s hands found your shoulders, steadying you as you looked back up at him. “I-” You started, only to stop immediately, “thank you- I’m- I’m sorry you had to run here.” You paused, “I... didn’t know it was raining, or I wouldn’t have-”

      “It’s fine,” he said, letting go of you as he took a small step back. “I’m - I’m gonna head back home-”

      Thunder clapped. Lightning flashed in the distance. You reached out and caught him by the wrist, “stay here.” You said, “it’s - it’s late, and... and I don’t want you walking home in the rain.”

      He almost debated with you, but another growl of thunder was enough to debunk whatever argument he was formulating as he followed you inside. You locked your front door back, retreated back to your room to find some clean clothes that would hopefully fit him (thank fuck for all your baggy shit, still hidden away in your closet), and handed him a towel. The microwave chirped for what you could assume was the thousandth time, and you rushed to stop it - only to have to punch in more time. You could hear the shower running from the room over. The hum of the microwave, the smell of spices tinting the air... and you felt alive. You were there. Breathing. Heart pumping. Mind... going, at least - even if there were moments of betrayal there. You were still there, and it was strange to think about that sometimes.

      The water shut off abruptly, and you pulled yourself from your thoughts as you stopped the microwave just a second before it was meant to go off. As you seated yourself at the kitchen table, Jeremy emerged and made his way over to you. He pulled out the chair nearest to you, and slowly sank into it.

      “You feeling better?” You asked, looking up at him.       

      “I, uh, I should be asking you that.” 

      “You were sick too, Jeremy,” you said, “why’d you run here?”

      “You sounded scared,” he shrugged, “besides - I’m better-” Immediately he was cut off by a cacophony of coughs, as he turned away from you. “I’m fine. What about-” He finally looked back at you, still embarrassed of the shades of red he’d turned, “what about you?”

      You suppressed a smile. “I’m... decent.” You shrugged, “I’ve... never really seen it before tonight.” 

      “You haven’t?”

      “Nope.” You paused, “I dunno. Maybe being sick like... weakened me or something.” After another pause, you noticed Jeremy shiver. “You can take my room, Jer. It’s warmer - I’ll just - I’ll take the couch-”

     “It’s fine, [y/n] - I’ll just - I’ll sleep on the floor-”

     “You are not sleeping on the floor, Jeremiah,” you feigned offense, “you are a guest! You’ll take my room and I’ll sleep on the floor-”

     “You’re still sick too, y’know,” he retorted, “just - I’ll take one side of the bed if you want-”

     “Fine.” You frowned as you stood, “if you insist.” 

     After leaving the bowl in the sink, filled with water in the classic “it has to soak” manner, you lead Jeremy to your bedroom. You snagged your phone from the floor, plugging it back into charge as you took one side of your bed - making sure to stay as close to the edge as possible while Jeremy took the other. The room was almost silent, the sound of Jeremy breathing quiet enough to merely tint the air.

     Right as you started to fall asleep, you turned onto your back. “Jeremy?” You said, stifled by a yawn. When he hummed in acknowledgement, you continued, “thanks for coming here.”

     You barely caught his soft, almost hesitant “yeah, uh, no problem” as you fell asleep.

[malafight]

Long-Ass Life Update (I’m not dead!)

Finally a life update now that I’m back home. It’s been a painful and tiring couple of weeks :’) And actually some of the days/times might be off because I was like super fucking out of it for most of that time period.

Anyhow, I went to the ER on Friday the 1st after 3 days of severe stomach pain, and the local hospital is like notoriously shitty but I was in horrible pain ok

They actually took me seriously for once, took me back immediately, ekg, ultrasound, blood and piss tests, and told me from the start not to eat or drink anything.

They told me they found gallstones and one or more might be stuck in the bile duct, but they made it sound like it wasnt inflamed and there werent many, so I wasnt super worried? They sent me for an MRI and then told me that they didnt have the capability to get out any stones, so they sent my ass an hour away via ambulance to a much better hospital so they could do the probe thing they needed to. It took until Saturday night to get a room there, though, and they didnt know when I’d get there and since they figured theyd want to do the probe ASAP, I was kept completely without eating or drinking for all of Friday night and Saturday, after not eating more than a few bites of muffin on Friday and next to nothing Thursday either because Everything Hurt.

Also, Fentanyl is fucking magic. Thats the only thing that even vaguely touched the pain.

So anyhow, I get to the other hospital at fuck o’clock at night and God Damn Staved because, like I said, bitches gave me No Fucking Food for an entire day (I’m not kidding that hospital is horrible and has a horrible reputation for ending up with killing people or making situations worse but the next nearest hospitals are an hour away in different directions and I don’t often have anyone willing to drive me that far and I often don’t feel up to driving myself that far if I’m already at “need to go to the ER, fuck the money I don’t have” point, and Saer has only just gotten into the USA and the last time they came with me to the ER they ended up with a virus for like three weeks and I wasn’t gonna do that to them again!!) and finally when I got to that hospital they were like “yeah we won’t be able to do the probe until Monday so eat something and then tomorrow you’re on a liquid diet and then nothing by mouth after midnight” so they scrounged me up some chicken broth and orange juice at like ten o’clock at night and gave me Those Good Good Meds and I slept in a decent hospital bed instead of on a fucking ER bed like Friday night (since they were transferring me at the local hospital they didn’t admit me and I slept in the ER. yeah. i hurt too badly to sleep on my side even with pain meds, and I slept on an ER bed. I had to sleep all day Saturday on and off just to get vaguely rested, but honestly? this whole ordeal has been an adventure in sleep deprivation despite heavy sedatives)

Monday rolls around and they take me for the ERCP (iirc thats what it was) where they put a thing down my throat and cut the bile duct wider so the stone could pass, get that bitch cleared up, all is well. I was heavily sedated and remember none of it, just waking up with different pain in my stomach and the world’s worst sore throat.

I was on a liquid diet from that and until the extraction on Wednesday. I have drank my weight in broth and orange juice.

Wednesday they take me in to remove my gallbladder. It was supposed to be a simple laparoscopic procedure, nip it out, pull it, I go home in a couple days with a couple small cuts on my belly. My dad (and several other people) reassured me that it was routine and quick, and is an easy procedure that should take 2 hours at most. I told him, “Listen, with me, literally nothing is ever easy and you know that”

Fast forward to me waking up and my first thought is “is that a catheter? guess it didnt go so easy after all.” I’m pretty sure the first words I said as I woke up were “told you it wouldnt be easy” lmao

Remember how hospital #1 told me that my gallbladder wasn’t inflamed and there were only a couple gallstones?

It was chock goddamn full of gallstones and so inflamed that when they tried to get it out laparoscopically, it tore. He spent an hour trying to get it out that way safely before realizing that his only recourse is to cut me open and get it out that way. The procedure took closer to 5 hours.

I have at least 20 staples in my belly now and I hope I get a cool fuckin scar but shit hurts still. I was in the hospital slowly ramping up to eating solid food again until Friday when I was allowed to go home to Saer. I can’t lift anything more than 20 pounds for another like month, and my range of motion is a fraction of what it was before. I’m so easily exhausted now and i can barely do anything and it’s really fucking pathetic??? and every time I bring that up Saer is like “they TOOK your ORGAN” so

(its really sad that i’m so conditioned that If I’m Not Doing Everything I Can All The Time Then I’m Not Trying Hard Enough that even after having full surgery to remove an organ I’m like NO I CAN DO THE THING and then end up hurting myself s-sobs)

(we watched the episode of b99 today where gina comes back after getting hit by a bus and when she tried to dance while still in the halo saer pointed at her and was like “it u” and i was like “exCUSE” but like, tru)

anyhow, im home, and i have my wife with me, and saer is such a blessing right now because i cannot do SHIT and they need to help me off the couch sometimes if my dumb ass gets in a position with no leverage, and also ive already fallen off the couch like twice because i was like NO I GOT IT and saer was across the room like BEB NO U DONT and yeah im stubborn and stupid ok saer is saving me from myself for the most part

also also the app i drive for is shutting down in my city at the start of december hhhhh so now i also have to fuckin... find a job like this and uGH do not WANT ffff

but yeah thats something even my parents have okayed me holding off on until I’m better so if even my fuckin parents are like “pls chill???” yall know im fucked up

however i’m mostly weaned off opiod pain meds now and am only using them at night when it’s worse and hard to sleep, tylenol tends to take care of it well enough now. my range of motion is improving, too, but i am just still so easily tired that its frustrating. we went grocery shopping yesterday and even in the little motor scooter i was completely worn out by the end of it.

but im alive! all is well! i will continue improving! sorry for being so quiet during this but like I said, i’ve been some level of sedated for most of this event. not fully sedated except for the two procedures, but fentanyl and dilautin (ok i have no idea what it actually is and google isnt helping but i had a button for it) and then morphine and hydrocodone on top of not getting restful sleep At All due to pain, discomfort, and people coming in every hour for vitals checks... I was fuckin Gone i got fuckall done rip

however once my pain-induced blood pressure spike was lowered (i saw them take it at the ER and it was fuckin RED) everyone was like “...you have really good blood pressure??” like i’m pretty sure i have low blood pressure naturally and my size/genetics gives me high blood pressure and they kinda cancel each other out, but yeah. pretty cool.

my family kept swinging between “IF YOURE IN THAT MUCH PAIN FOR 24 HOURS YOU GO TO THE ER. YOU DO NOT WAIT THREE DAYS.” and “...jesus christ you have a high pain tolerance”

//throws the horns thats what chronic pain does to ya baybee

my mom especially was impressed because she was just like “you’re so calm talking to them about how much it hurts how are you doing that” and im just like “its literally wasted energy to freak out and i hurt too badly to move so im just gonna sit here and tell them im a ten and hope they take pity on me because i have no other options”

anyhow fun new experience and im pretty sure ive broken my brother’s hospitalization record and also pretty sure i’ve got enough medical debt on me now that i can literally file for bankruptcy so

also i can feel a void near my ribs and it is so bizarre yall fuckin organs need to close the gap asap bc this shit weird as hell

[knifeaparty]

ive been thinking about and sketching a ffxiv/tf2 au so i am going to ramble about it bc where else to but here

mercs and their races, clans and classes so far:

medic: au’ra, xaela, scholar

honestly i thought of this crossover bc someones xaela looked so much liked medic everytime i saw them so... ive thought about elezen for him which would be interesting and make sense? but dragon medic is too fun. scholar bc, obvs.. i think its the healing class that fits him most with my complete lack of knowledge of what scholar is. hes def not a white mage because the whole uaaah nature thing and it would be cute if his little fairy was archimedes. the scholar aesthetic fits him more than astrologian, too. also the arcanist/summoner side job i think fits him perfectly 

heavy: roegadyn,  hellsguard, warrior

this is the most self indulgent one for me as an mroe warrior player. i think the reclusive mountain clan hellsguard fits him, even tho it’s more of volcano mountains than snowy mountains like russia.  as well as ofc the more beefy roe body type. i think a huge axe named sacha is the best i will get bc i cant just make everyone machinist lmao. also the close ties w warrior to hellsguard makes it an obv choice. *thinks about beat mode* i would like to see it. 

sniper: au’ra, raen, bard

NOW THIS ONE EXCITES ME THE MOST!!!! i ADORE thinking about raen sniper growing up in the dawn thrown around chad xaela au’ra lmaooo. the raen clan in the lost underwater city was just too tempting it just tickles me how perfect it is...  i remember thinking of this crossover before i got to stormblood and when i finally learned more about the au’ra and met the raen clan i went insane it was simply meant to be. me equating xaela to australians is what made me want to switch medic to elezen but there are xaela from ishgard too so who cares. also.. thinking about sniper in the bard outfits absolutely kills me. i dont think saxophone or didgeridoo are instruments in game but ill allow it for him. 

spy: elezen, duskwight??, ninja

this one was a tough choice, esp bc his race effects scouts... obviously hes a ninja, as funny as that is but his race is still up to debate. i didnt really think about the clan bc elezen clan stuff is barely a thing in game, and i would think hes just from ishgard, which makes him basically a wildwood, but i think him being a duskwight is quite funny as well and gridania is also heavily european inspired so, why not. i really wanted him and scout to be cat boys but idk who else i would make elezen lmao. and i cannot imagine an elezen miqote mix. 

scout: elezen/hyur mix, ???, monk

scout was a hard one to pin down, by god i want him to be a cat boy but also him being mixed and having the cute short ears and growing up in the brume is just too irresistible. obvs mother is a hyuran woman. also.. his class... i know ninja is like the “scouting” class and monk is a somewhat beefy tanky dps class but,  i think its the best fit. you do get that speed boost ability (that i never use) so ill just run with it. no pun intended. 

pyro: lalafell, dunesfolk, black mage

its just the obvious choice. blackmage has the most literal fire power out of all the classes, and theyre also just.. generally cryptid ass lalafell lmao. i think its cute and funny. have you seen those lil dudes? c’mon. pyro. definitely just an ul’dahn cryptid. love to see it. 

engie: lalafell, plainsfolk, machinist

this one tickles me especially i just love it so much. even tho all the mercs love their guns i had to give engie mch for the turrets. and i made him lalafell bc hes short. sorry engie my short king, its just too funny. i think he would be home to either limsa or gridania, you dont find many lalafell in limsa but i think he can match their energy. prob grew up in gridanian country side and moved to limsa for the business. 

soldier: hyur, midlander, dragoon

soldierjust being the generic dude he is (this is no shade i love him) is the american hyur. i debated his class a lot but then i thought about his rocket jumps and was like.. okay hes a dragoon. the aesthetic of it doesnt fit him but the playstyle does i think. hes prob from limsa or ul’dah. convinced hes fought all the wars against the garleans but has never actually met one in reality. 

demo: hyur, highlander, paladin

>>> or miqo’te seeker of the moon

demos the one im most undecided on. i just like the thought of demo and soldier being hyur bros but that means i have NO cat boys ??? i could make soldier, engie, or pyro one probably, but i’m just super attached to the races ive given them. engie and pyro being lalafells and soldier and demo being hyurs is just too good to me. i dont really think he would be an ala mhigan either really? i feel like hes just a gridanian. so seeker of the moon would probably fit better but i’m not sure. also paladin bc demoknight but i also think rdm or some casting dps for him would be fun bc of his cursed sorcery background. i think him being taught some blm and his experience w a sword through paladin would make him a good rdm one day. maybe hes a paladin that becomes a drk or something lmao. i think scout is the only one who fits the miqo’te body type too so thats really whats holding my back bc... i will not make demo a twink. 

something that deeply troubles me is the thought of bald catboys, which limits my options for assigned catboy at crossover. they have their hats but..... 

i also dont really have any ala mhigan or doman hcs for them the dawn throne is as close as i get but its just the reality with the tf2 having little asian rep.

[trendercraft]

okay so some older followers may remember the medication posts (tw 4 a lot of things in those posts lol) n i wanted 2 make an update post so! me talking 4 ages under the cut:

[[MORE]]

so im still not taking my antidepressants, which may actually b a good thing as of right now, because im on an opioid (hydrocodone-acetamin, since i finished my tramadol) + a nausea supressant (zofran, which i only need bc this opioid makes me sick lmao) after getting my wisdom teeth out.

why is that good? well, my therapist n i figured out what happened when i suddenly went back on my high dose of effexor: a mild/moderate case of serotonin syndrome. n it just so happens that both opioids and zofran up the risk of that when combined w an antidepressant, n since ive already had serotonin syndrome, im at a higher risk of it happening again, possibly w more severe symptoms! fun.

another thing is that ive been prescribed an atypical antipsychotic (abilify) bc of my schizoaffective diagnosis (which is probs wrong n im actually schizophrenic, but thats not important). i havent been taking that either bc my psych apparently forgot that it made me like. rlly sick the last time i was on it (for severe anxiety)??? n it ups the risk for serotonin syndrome anyway.

tl;dr it turns out that the meds caused a rare side effect that is now prone 2 happening again n it may b a good thing that im not taking my antidepressants as prescribed.