#and the fact of the matter is ive had medical professionals tell me that while my symptoms are textbook - how i express them isnt always

[kaurwreck]

I cannot relate when people talk about being unable to distinguish comorbid symptoms, at least not to the same degree. I have mine fairly parsed, including where they overlap and exacerbate each other, in part because of how aggressively I've pursued treatment while also staggering it in such a way that allowed me and my psychs to identify the separate disorders.

[topgun-imagines]

Forget Me Not (iv)

Requested: no

Summary: With the simple stress-induced headache out of the way, you finally get the opportunity to reconnect with Bradley.

Word count: 2.0k

Warnings: hospitals, amnesia, mentions of death, headaches, memory loss, inaccurate medical terms, angst.

Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x wife!reader

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��Jake,” No matter how many times Natasha called his name, the head-strong pilot refused to stop. Still, they followed him through the sterile-smelling halls of the hospital until he stopped abruptly. “Hangman,” She tried again, more firm this time. Wordlessly, he turned to her and snapped something along the lines of ‘What, Trace?’ “Look, you know that we’ll be behind you no matter what,” Jake stared at her blankly and willed her to just get to the point. Your doctor was on the other side of the door right in front of him. He could be talking to him right now if Phoenix would just hurry up. “But you have to tell us what’s going on.”

The pilot should feel elated. He should be excited at the fact that his wife is feeling better. However, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of dread that was growing stronger and stronger by the second. Jake may not have been a doctor, but he did know that a headache after brain trauma was not a good sign.

He tried to muster up a grateful smile, he really did, but all he could offer her was a barely-there tired grin. “I know, Nix,” Sucking in a sharp breath, he knew that he had to tell his friends why he was in such a rush. “We were just talking and then she suddenly seemed like she was in pain. She said she was going to sleep.” Instantly, Bradley and Natasha understood what the problem was.

They stood behind him as he knocked on the door and waited for your doctor to answer. When the door was pulled open, the man was just putting his stethoscope around his neck. He greeted Jake with a smile. “What can I help you with, Lieutenant?”

“Sorry to bother you, sir,” Jake started, attempting to remain professional even though he was worried sick. Once the older man assured him that it wasn’t a problem, he continued. “But I was hoping that you could come check on my wife. She appeared to have a headache earlier.” The man nodded and followed Jake back to your room. When he stepped inside quietly with Jake close on his heels, Bradley and Natasha took that as a sign to return to their seats.

Inside the room, you were peacefully sleeping on the scratchy hospital sheets, breathing softly and eyelids fluttering every few seconds. Jake watched you worriedly, working his lip between his teeth. The doctor was careful as he looked in your eyes, still trying not to wake you up. He checked a few more monitors before offering Jake a reassuring smile. “Everything seems fine. Given all the stress she has endured in the past couple days, a headache isn’t out of the norm.” With those words, Jake could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Jake thanked your doctor as he stepped out of the room. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. After everything that had happened over the past few days, all he wanted was for things to be okay. At least for a little while.

When Bradley saw your doctor step out of the room, he patted Phoenix’s hand gently before stepping inside. The first thing he noticed was Jake leaning against the wall, his head tipped back and eyes shut tightly. “You okay, man?” The usually put-together pilot startled at the sound of his friend's voice.

He cleared his throat and nodded, his eyes only meeting Bradley’s briefly before looking back to you. Bradshaw stepped forward to comfort his friend, but instantly noticed the dishevelled state of his clothes and hair. He had been wearing the same outfit for almost a week and Bradley was convinced that he hadn’t showered for at least two. “Jake,” Bradley started cautiously, not wanting to piss the man off. He only hummed, not taking his eyes off your peacefully sleeping form. “When was the last time you showered?” That caused his eyes to snap to Bradley.

“I’m not leaving her. Not again.” The words were out of his mouth in mere seconds. Jake squeezed your hand softly, completely disregarding Bradley’s statement as he looked at your sleeping face.

Bradley shook his head. “That’s not what I'm saying,” Trying again, Bradley chose his words even more carefully this time. “I’m just saying that she’s sleeping now. You have time to go and take a shower and take care of yourself,” He knew that there was one statement he could use that was a surefire way to get Jake to agree. “She wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

Silently, Jake stood from that creaky, uncomfortable chair and turned to his wingman. Before he responded, he sucked in a long breath and released it. “You’re right,” He nodded, silently thanking Rooster for calling him out. Just as he was about to step out the door, he turned back. “Would you stay with her? I don’t want her waking up alone.” Bradley could hear the care laced with worry in his friend's voice.

He nodded reassuringly, taking a seat in the creaky plastic chair and pulling his phone out. As Jake closed the door softly, Bradley began swiping through another level of Candy Crush.

“Morning, Sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned as you blinked your eyes open. You smiled at the sound of his voice and twisted your head to face him. You noticed that you could no longer feel your heart beating in your temples. That sent a surge of relief through you. Before you could respond to the mustached man, he spoke again. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

You nodded with a soft smile, giving Bradley permission to ask whatever he wished. “I know that you probably don’t like people asking you this, but can you remember anything else?” His words were quiet as he tried not to scare you. While he was curious to know whether you could remember anything else, he didn’t want you to feel pressured.

You nodded before you began speaking. “It’s okay,” Pausing for a few seconds, you tried your hardest to remember anything that you could. “I remember.” Suddenly, memories of a breakfast spent in bed with someone flooded through your mind. You could see the colour of the sheets and feel the cool sea breeze from the open window. There was a man next to you, he had his arm wound around your waist, his thumb drawing delicate patterns into the bare skin of your waist. You were looking at him with pure love. The only problem was that you couldn’t see his face. You had no idea who he was.

You gasped, tears welling in your eyes at the knowledge that you had someone to come home to. Someone that you loved more than you could know. And you couldn’t even remember him. You sniffled quietly and Bradley watched you through concerned eyes. “I remember a breakfast in bed,” You started and the pilot immediately softened. “I can remember the colour of the sheets and the smell of the food. But there’s someone beside me that I can’t see,” Eyes slipped shut, fat, hot tears rolling down your flushed cheeks in waves. Desperately, your mind chased the man that you couldn’t remember, regardless of how hard you tried. “I can’t remember him.” It sounded almost like a whimper as you wiped the tears from your eyes.

Suddenly, you remembered the man sitting beside you. “I’m sorry.” You murmured, embarrassment serging through you. The lump in your throat was almost overwhelming as you cleared your throat.

Once you wiped your eyes once more, you turned to Bradley. You couldn’t pretend to miss the sympathetic look in his eyes. You hated seeing that look. It felt as if everyone around you had been looking at you like that ever since you woke up. For once, you wished that the people around you could just treat you like they did before the incident. Not that you could remember how that was. You knew that it was because they cared about you, and you really did appreciate it, but you couldn’t help but feel as if they were looking down on you in some way.

Bradley watched as you tried your hardest not to let any more tears fall. It reminded him of the scared girl that he had met all those years ago. When Bradley first met you, you had just joined the Navy. You were living in a small apartment on the south side of Baltimore, away from any of your family and friends. It had only been a few weeks since you moved into your tiny apartment when he met you.

The pilot had met you in a bar, spending the entire night trying to befriend you. It was obvious to most that you were the more reserved type, and even though you tried to ignore him, eventually, Bradley was able to crack through your tough exterior. Ever since that moment, he was your best friend. The two of you were inseparable. It almost made you wonder whether there was something else between the two of you that you couldn’t remember.

“Scoot over.” Bradley tilted his chin forward. You shuffled over slowly, tears still welling in your eyes as you thought back on your memory. Who was the man in the dream? Could it have been Bradley? One of his arms settled around your shoulder after you nodded in approval. Pulling you into his side, one of his thick thighs rested against yours and his foot nudged yours.

Your head dropped down to rest on his shoulder. Bradley’s thumb brushed slowly over the soft skin on your arm. “You don’t have to remember everything all right now,” He murmured, no louder than a whisper. “The most important thing is that you're okay,” You could feel his chest rumbling under your ear, his voice being even deeper than it normally was. “You gave us all a really good scare. All we want is for you to be okay. Okay?” He grinned when you giggled from the tickle of his mustache against your cheek.

All that could be heard in the small hospital rooms was the sound of your soft laughs as Bradley told you tales of the mischief that you and he got into over the past few years. While you enjoyed hearing Jake tell you stories about how the two of you met, there was just something about listening to Rooster talk than had you snuggling further into him.

“One of my favourite memories of us was in that bar one night in Tulsa. With the piano.” That was all you had to say and Bradley knew what you were talking about. One night, after the two of you had been reunited in Oklahoma, you headed out to the local bar. Bradley decided to teach you how to play Great Balls of Fire on the piano. That night had ended with you and Bradley stumbling drunkenly back to his housing, lying out on the back porch while you stared up at the stars. It was by far one of your favourite moments.

That had Bradley chuckling quietly as he reminisced on that wonderful night. As your head dropped further into his chest, you started to wonder whether or not it could have been Bradley in your memory. Your hand reached up and you fiddled with his dog tags, seeking comfort in the presence of the mustached aviator. After the hell that you had endured over the past few days, you were ecstatic that you could finally feel at peace.

Bradley continued whispering softly to you, not sparing any detail as he recounted moment after moment from your past. Your eyes fluttered shut, soothed by the low timbre of Bradley's voice. It was hard to remember a time when you had ever felt this relaxed. Holding you closely, Bradley was happy that he was able to draw your mind away from the overwhelming stress of the past few days. Little did you know that Jake was standing just outside the door, listening intently to every word whispered between you and his wingman.

a/n: thank you all so much for reading!! Stay tuned for future parts of this series and let me know if you would like to be tagged <3

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[vegance]

1. The difference is a human baby is a human and thus should have all protections we provide humans.

Also some ara and vegan places will keep animals alive in spite of them suffering, you just can not keep a cow in a wheelchair.

2. Just because modern supplements allow vegan lifestyles that doesn’t mean people should ignore the millennia of evolution that went into forming our digestive tracts. That evolution will still impact our modern lives. Its why we cant get b12 from sources other than animal products or supplements. Its just not bioavailable for us.

3. You can tell if a local farm meets your own standards by, going to visit it. That’s what i meant there. Also cows literally do not give a shit about ai and dairy cows have kinda accidentally been bred to not care too much about their calves.

4. I have serious doubts about how healthy a vegan baby formula is. Not to mention even if it works for human babies how about all the orphaned animals, some of which are obligate carnivores and may not be able to process whatever vegan replacements are in the formula. Bioavailability is a super important thing to remember. There’s reasons cattle and such can survive and thrive off of just grass but humans cant. And it’s bioavailability, which is different for each food and for each species.

5 and 6. Those weren’t aimed at you specifically. Those were general things meant for everyone. And it wasnt meant to be condescending. It was meant to be neutral. The simple fact is ive seen people source from documentaries and papers that have been proven to be false. Not everyone knows how to find peer reviewed papers. And the general public often does think documentaries are fact to the point that one made about mermaids was believed.

why is being human the only thing that affords a being the right to be free of torture, cruelty and being killed? what's the reason? what is this based on? does this mean that any being who is not human should not have that right? primates? whales? hypothetical intelligent alien societies? no? only humans. or only homo sapiens? where do you draw the line? and why?

and like...the historical fallacy is just not an argument? it does not matter what humans used to do, or what they had to do.

many people also do not get enough iodine, selenium, vitamin d, folic acid (in pregnancy) without either supplementing themselves, or consuming fortified food (or animals who were fed vitamins). so where does that leave us? there are many things that we didn't evolve to do, or to have. unless you are advocating that everyone live a paleo life, that argument just has no meaning. medical professionals say it is possible to be vegan and healthy. that's all that matters

how many people go visit farms? how many people really only ever eat the meat /animal products that has come from a farm that they know everything about? almost no one. and there are very few farms in most high income countries, where the animals actually have a good life. most people just do not have access to that. and it still doesn't change a thing about the slaughtering process.

honestly, i trust the actual food administrations who approved those vegan formulas more than like...a random anon on tumblr. why should you know more about the topic than them? and again, what do like,,, orphaned baby lions have to do with you eating a cheeseburger? literally nothing. you are not a baby? it does not apply to you.

i appreciate that the source thing was not aimed at me but like...its not like that is just a vegan problem? i still don't get why you would bring it up here specifically. especially on a blog where i pretty much provide sources for almost everything that i say

edit: and cows literally do care to be seperated from their babies. and honestly, if you look at how ai of cows is done....like i think the chances are pretty high that it causes them at least some discomfort? and cows are literally restrained while it is happening. and anyway, cows cannot consent, it is literally a human being sticking their entire arm up their anus and a metal rod up their vagina. that's sexual exploitation. doing the same thing for any other reason would get you charged with bestiality

[mari-beau]

GIVE ME A REASON: PART SEVEN -A Rogue One fanfic

Final part to this story! 😘😘😘

Read on AO3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part Seven

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: None?

Words: 2,888

Story Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

Also can be found on AO3.

Nervous.

The hardened rebel spy was nervous. So was Jyn, of course, but it was still a surprise to find the tangible expression of Cassian’s jangled nerves. She thought he’d be better at hiding it. At hiding all of his emotions when he wanted.

But maybe he didn’t feel the need to hide it from her? Although it was a subconscious tick he probably wasn’t aware of… Which wasn’t helping the butterflies in Jyn’s own stomach. In fact, it was really starting to annoy her.

She reached for his hand, wrapping her fingers around his in an attempt to still their drumming against the side of his leg. He was still standing, but with no thanks to the Alliance. The inconsiderate bastards could’ve maybe provided a chair for the wounded captain. Not that Cassian would’ve accepted, anyway. At least everyone was just milling about until the ceremony started, so they were able to take a position against the wall, allowing Cassian to casually lean against the immense stonework for support.

He’d been looking around the large hall, watching the crowd of Alliance personnel and council members, observing and evaluating, as the spy habitually did. But when she touched him, his eyes snapped immediately to her hand on his. They widened and then that furrow formed between his brows and he frowned.

So that was how it was going to be?

In his bed, he could hold her so tight their bodies practically fused together, could nuzzle her neck, his lips could ghost over her skin in tantalizing, teasing non-kisses, he could lean into the touch of her palm on his cheek, make salacious pleased noises when she stroked his head and neck, or trailed fingers down his spine. But any sort of affectionate display in public wasn’t allowed.

Not that she wouldn’t have grabbed his hand to still his annoyingly drumming fingers if they were only just friends. They were only just friends, anyway.

He twisted his hand free, gently, casually, but removed it from her grasp nonetheless.

His dark eyes met hers and she held the gaze. Let him see the hurt, even as she thought it a stupid thing to feel hurt about. And yet… Meeting Cassian Andor had redefined her world, her existence, how she felt, how she dealt with those feelings. Her very place in the galaxy seemed to have changed.

Because here she was in a giant hall in a ruined temple, surrounded by hundreds of Alliance soldiers, waiting for a princess to tell her ‘good job’ or some such. But even stranger, she was standing beside a person she truly trusted. She couldn’t remember ever trusting anyone before, not wholeheartedly, with no reservations, no reluctance or doubt. Not since she was a child living in that cozy home with her parents that now seemed a dream.

This seemed rather dreamlike, too. Mon Mothma, the head of the Alliance’s council, dressed in regal white, looking like some ethereal being -maybe the ones Cassian had told her about in that intimate, vulnerable moment- had entered the hall and a hush formed as everyone scrambled into neat military rows, coming to attention as the elegant woman approached the dias.

She began to give a speech, but Jyn couldn’t focus on it. Cassian had started fidgeting again, shifting his weight and drumming his fingers against his leg. It seemed so entirely unlike him, and yet Jyn could sympathize. She had always tried to maintain an unreadable exterior, too, or rather, she had always tried not to feel things because everything she felt was too painful. She imagined it was similar with Cassian. And she imagined he was likewise nervous now, because being the center of attention felt wrong in every way, and just such a situation was imminent.

Jyn hated the idea of Cassian’s vulnerability being exposed to the world, that he would be required to limp the ridiculous distance up to the dias at the front of the room, in front of everyone, probably with her assistance, if he’d accept it. The man did not deserve anyone’s pity. They should only respect him for everything he’d done for the rebellion, for everything he’d sacrificed. And from what Jyn could tell, he didn’t even want that, it was so ingrained in him to work in the shadows.

She grabbed his hand again, but it was honestly more to calm herself than him. This time, though, his fingers encircled hers and did not pull away. His attention remained on Mon Mothma as she finished up her speech and introduced the princess.

Dank farrik.

Princess Leia was young and pretty, likewise clothed in regal white, but in a dress that hugged her perfect curves and accented the elegant line of her neck. Her brown hair and dark eyes offset her perfect porcelain skin. More enticing, the princess had the bearing of someone like Mon Mothma, but there was something more lively in her, adventurous and passionate maybe. Jyn would’ve felt justified in her previous unwarranted flash of jealousy when Cassian had described Leia Organa as if he knew the young woman, if Jyn didn’t find the princess extremely attractive herself. Force, if it didn’t feel like Cassian had been imprinted on her very soul, and if Jyn’s libido hadn’t already decided it wanted him and no one else would suffice… But a princess would’ve been way out of her league, anyway.

Cassian’s fingers squeezed her hand, and he leaned in, a whisper tickling her ear.

“You’re staring.”

“I’m just paying attention,” she whispered back.

A very quiet chuckle escaped him.

“Sure,” he said and she glared at him but continued to hold his hand, an anchor against the tide of nerves roiling in her stomach. “Why were you surprised that I might... kiss men sometimes? You like both men and women, too?”

“I rarely like anyone.” She stroked her thumb over the soft flesh at the base of his thumb. “But when I’m attracted to someone, it doesn’t seem to matter what their gender is.”

If they were pretty, they were pretty. She couldn’t really say why or what criteria made someone attractive to her. Although Leia had some gorgeous brown eyes. And so did Cassian for that matter, although his were a little darker, and as much playful as perceptive as they studied her face. And maybe she had become so soft that she’d gone to actual mush, because she could stare into those eyes forever.

Was that her thing? Is that what did it for her? Was she an ‘eyes’ girl?

Oh. Maybe she was. Because she found herself utterly captivated by Cassian’s beautiful eyes, finding everything she wanted and more in their dark depths... An if she didn’t know better... She could swear that he wanted-

“Captain Andor. Jyn Erso.”

Jyn nearly jumped out of her skin. Alarm likewise flashed across Cassian’s face before it was promptly hidden by a facade of professional pleasantness as he straightened. His hand slipped out of hers but landed at the small of her back to urge her forward out of the ranks.

And then Jyn found herself face to face with Leia Organa. And felt such gratitude that the princess had come to them and not made Cassian come to her, limping on an unsteady, barely begun to heal leg, that Jyn found herself smiling broadly, genuinely, at the kriffing gorgeous young woman.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for the rebellion. I know you’ve lost much.”

Jyn bowed her head, although being as small as she was, the even more petite princess still could’ve managed to drape the medal over her head with no problem.

“We all have lost too much,” Cassian said, after bowing to receive his own medal from the princess.

Leia Organa was good at maintaining her facade but Jyn saw the sadness in the young woman’s eyes. Jyn had cried while Cassian was in deep, medicated sleep, when she heard that Alderaan had been destroyed, feeling like she had failed after all. But what pain that loss was to its princess, Jyn couldn’t quite fathom. She had lost much, her parents, her childhood, but she had never loved an entire planet, full of people who she was a leader to. She had sort of led a unit of soldiers. And they all had died. And that was agony.

Except for Cassian. She still had Cassian. And if Jyn was honest, he was more than an entire world to her. He was a kriffing galaxy. She slid her arm around his waist because his hand on her back was not providing enough contact when Jyn felt like she might fall to pieces at any moment.

“I’m truly glad you both survived Scarif,” Princess Leia said, as if the loss of just two more lives would’ve crushed her, that the knowledge that some had survived, that some could and would survive this fight, was what kept her going. “Your bravery has saved us all.”

“Thank you,” Jyn said, unable to think of anything else to say.

The princess inclined her head, a bittersweet smile on her face, before she turned and began walking back to the dias. When Jyn returned her attention to Cassian, he was looking at her again with that expression in his eyes.

“We should probably get back in line,” she whispered, but was unable to break away from his captivating gaze.

“When have you ever been one to stay in line, Jyn Erso?” There was the small flash of his tongue wetting his bottom lip and Jyn nearly forgot how to breathe. No longer fixated by his eyes but his mouth. Was he-

His hand at the small of her back urged her closer, his other hand cupping her face and-

Oh.

Cassian Andor’s kiss was… Perfection. It was everything a first kiss, any kiss should be, excited and eager at the start, making it perhaps a little too rough when his mouth crashed against hers, but then suddenly softer, gentle, a tentative question, which she returned, sliding her lips against his, parting them in invitation, which he accepted, deepening the kiss. He tilted his head, angling his mouth against hers, sucking at her top lip then her bottom, submitting to her own explorative press and slide of her lips, the small nips she made with the edge of her teeth. His tongue darted over her lips, swiping into her mouth just the smallest fraction, just enough to tease and tantalize and make her release a groan of pure carnal want.

The room, the world, had faded away entirely but suddenly came crashing back hard. People were hooting and clapping, whistling and chuckling and shouting lewd, encouraging comments. Cassian broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against hers for a moment.

He had just kissed her. In front of everyone. They might as well have been standing on that dias, in front of the princess, making out for the entire Alliance to see.

“You kissed me,” she said, still incredulous.

“Yes,” Cassian met her gaze with his dark brown eyes, which seemed to be honest-to-goodness twinkling, for Force’s sake. “And you kissed me back.”

“But, you kissed me. In public. In front of everyone.”

“Yes.” Cassian was a good liar, pretending that it wasn’t a big deal for him to so openly display an emotion such as affection. He shrugged. “It was a bit territorial of me. Sorry.”

Jyn hadn’t even thought of that. She was so busy fighting her possessive feelings for Cassian, it hadn’t occurred to her he might be feeling possessive of her.

“Don’t apologize.” Don’t take it back. Please.

He smiled at her. And parts of her that she hadn’t previously known existed before meeting him, responded, filling her with warmth, as seemed inevitable whenever she was in the glow of that smile of his.

“Let’s get out of here while we can,” he leaned in to whisper, a little closer than necessary so that his mouth was just a couple of teasing inches away from hers.

“Yeah,” Jyn whispered back. “Your leg must be bothering you. I think we need to get you back to bed.”

His mouth twitched and he raised his eyebrows at her. Like he was in any condition to follow through on the innuendo that she actually hadn’t intended.

“Do you know of… er… a back way out of here?” Jyn asked as they ducked back into line. Things seemed to be picking up for the next part of the ceremony. And she’d honestly had enough pomp and circumstance for the day.

“Of course. I’m a spy,” Cassian said, giving Jyn a wink as he took her hand and somehow began to sidle through the ranks of rebel soldiers, weaving seamlessly between them and towing Jyn along, none the worse for wear for his injured leg.

They managed to reach the wall, slide along it and duck into a shadowy corner that was the entrance to a hidden narrow hallway just as all the troops came to attention and did an about face. Apparently the heroes of the Battle of Yavin were making their grand entrance. Jyn would’ve been curious about them if she wasn’t being towed along by the most compelling person she’d ever met, the most frustrating, uptight, passionate, tortured, beautiful man in the galaxy.

Halfway back to his quarters, his limp was worsening, so Jyn pulled her hand out of his and slipped her arm around his waist. It was difficult to say whether he maybe just wasn’t as much a stubbornly independent sort as she thought, or whether he trusted her like no other. But either way, he accepted her help and being snuggled up against him felt like where she belonged.

When they reached his quarters, Cassian collapsed onto his bed with a sigh. It had been a long day, even for her, and she was only recovering from comparatively minor injuries. So she was actually a little surprised when he didn’t immediately pass out. Instead, he gave her that look again.

“Come here.” Sitting up, he reached for her. And Jyn came, more than willingly, practically jumping into his lap, only hesitating when part of her shouted to be careful not to hurt him.

He smiled. Oh, that smile.

“It’s okay.” His hands found her waist. And oh, they fit her curves like they were made to hold her.

“But your injuries. I don’t want-”

“Straddle me.” He tugged gently at her waist. Heat blazed through her, and a wanting she’d never experienced the likes of before. “You can keep your weight off me that way, if you want.”

“Oh, right.” She put a knee on the bed on either side of his thighs, settled onto his lap without -he was right- placing her full weight on him. Cassian made a pleased noise, his hands never leaving her waist, but beginning to stroke up and down her sides, beneath her vest but separated from her bare skin by the fabric of her shirt, which she was honestly a bit thankful for. Her senses, her kriffing emotions, were already overwhelmed, especially when she looked down to find his face tilted up towards hers, his pretty dark eyes fixed on her, showing her everything he kept locked up so deep inside.

His eyes were all soft and imploring, filled with a desperate need to give and receive affection, to be understood and loved, to connect with another person on a soul deep level, emotionally… physically. It made her heart race and her skin prickle with gooseflesh. She had the same longing she had never been able to define before.

Jyn took his face in her hands, leaned down and kissed him. It was as good as the first time. Maybe even better. No less eager for one another, the ambrace was enthusiastic and a bit sloppy. But it slowed to that intense teasing exploration of one another, this time deepened by their tongues eager to taste one another, stroke and caress. The kiss was seeking and answering. It was… It was...

Kissing Cassian was a revelation. Not just confirmation that her attraction to him was reciprocated, but a soul-baring epiphany.

Most of her life, all of her adult life, Jyn had had nothing beyond surviving, no reason for living besides that death was the alternative. Cassian had tried to give her one, give her the Cause, his cause, the Rebellion. And for a while, she’d adopted it. She would still make it hers. But she was too cynical for it to be her reason for living. And if she was truly honest with herself, it was only her Cause because it was his.

Cassian Andor had given her something to live for, something to fight for, but it wasn’t what either of them pretended it was.

He was her reason. He was her Cause.

The kiss broke, and Jyn rested her forehead against his, the need to be close persisting despite the biological requirement that they break for want of air. His hands released her waist to cradle her face.

“Cassian…” She could barely recognize her own breathy whisper, could not find any words.

His thumbs stroke her cheeks and he sighed, his voice low and husky when he spoke.

“Me, too, Jyn. Me, too.”

END

[sohotthateveryonedied]

You Gotta Fend for Yourself

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Bruce is Tim's emergency contact. He gets a call to meet Tim at the ER.

“I’m looking for a patient.” The woman behind the ER desk looks bored as she eyes Bruce, takes in the pressed suit and diamond cufflinks. The way he fidgets, drumming his fingers on the desk and trying very hard not to look as anxious as he feels. It’s easier to reign in his worry when he’s wearing the cowl. “Name?” “Tim Drake.” “Give me a minute.” She types his name into the computer, and Bruce can’t help but wonder how she manages to type with such long fingernails. “Your son is in bed eight. It’s over there, against the far wall.” She points him in the general direction. Bruce considers correcting her on the fact that Tim is certainly not his son, but he doesn’t need to tell this complete stranger that. Let her think what she wants. He thanks her and goes where directed. His chest loosens when he finds Tim sitting on a medical cot, neither bleeding out from a gaping wound nor missing any limbs. Instead he’s playing some sort of racing game on his phone, indifferent to the bustling emergency room around him. An oxygen mask sits beside him, forgotten. He and Bruce should really have a conversation about the importance of listening to medical professionals. “Hey, kiddo.”

Tim looks up and his eyes go wide. “Bruce. You...actually came?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been gargling sand. “Of course I did. I am your emergency contact, after all.” Tim blushes. “I told them not to call you. You really don’t need to be here if you’re busy, I can get a cab home. And I’m sure I can talk the doctors into letting me check myself out without an adult, so—” “It’s okay, Tim. Really. You actually saved me from a board meeting.” Tim doesn’t look at all reassured. Bruce sits on the side of the cot beside Tim, who moves over a few inches. “Your teacher told me you went into anaphylactic shock in the middle of geometry.” Tim rolls his eyes. “I got a candy bar from the vending machine and the wrapper forgot to mention there were walnuts in it. It’s not that big a deal.” “Oh, sure, not that big a deal. You just stopped breathing for two minutes. Totally normal.” “I’m breathing now, aren’t I?” Tim takes an exaggerated breath. “See? I’m fine. And, for the record, it was the teacher’s fault. I had my hand raised for a whole minute trying to tell her that I couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t even look at me. Eventually I just passed out.” Bruce blinks. “You raised your hand? While your life was in danger?” “I didn’t want to be rude.” Lord, beer me patience. “I’ll get you an EpiPen to carry with you from now on.” “I usually have one, but I used it up a couple months ago and kept forgetting to ask my dad for another one.” A shrug. “Don’t you keep one in your utility belt?” “That’s for civilians.” Bruce’s eyebrows crease. “It’s for keeping people safe, not just civilians. You’re a person, so I want you to use whatever you need to keep yourself from dying in the middle of class. Got it?” Tim nods, a little sheepishly. “Yes, sir.” “Good. Now, how are you feeling?” Tim flicks the IV tube. “Cortisone and a shot of epinephrine earlier. I’ll be fine.” Even so, Bruce can’t stop himself from checking Tim over anyway, just to be sure. He needs to see that Tim is okay with his own eyes. He feels Tim’s throat for any residual swelling, checks his pulse. “Can you breathe okay?” “Yep.” “What about your mouth, does it feel numb or tingly? Any swelling?” “No and no.” “Are you dizzy at all, nauseous?” “You do realize we’re in a hospital, right? Surrounded by actual doctors?” “Yes, and I don’t trust a single one of them unless their name is Leslie Thompkins, Alfred Pennyworth, or Bruce Wayne.” “You’re insane.” “Good. Maybe then you’ll stay alive long enough to see the new year.” Bruce takes out his cell phone and drafts the beginning of an email in his notes app. “I should call the school and give them hell for not looking after you. Or at least for not being more aware of their vending machine snacks.” He knew Tim never should have been allowed in a public school. That’s like locking the most perfect, innocent kitten in the world in a cage with rabid coyotes. Completely irresponsible. “You’re overreacting, B.” “You could have died.” Tim scoffs. “Stop being so dramatic. This isn’t even the worst allergic reaction I’ve had. My parents were terrible at remembering to tell the nannies about my walnut energy, so there were a lot of close calls.” Bruce should be more surprised at that information. After he sues the school for the wrongful almost-death of a student, he should sue Drake Industries just for the hell of it. “Where are your parents? Are they on their way?” Jack Drake is as disagreeable a man as disagreeable men get, but he’s always revving for conflict. Bruce will definitely be able to sway him to his side of this matter. They can bring it up to the board of education, draw up new regulations for the school’s allergy protocols. Tim scratches absently at the rash on his neck. Bruce swats his hand away. “Dad brought Dana on a business trip to Philadelphia. It was only supposed to last the weekend, but they decided to stay a few extra days.” “A few?” “Eleven, to be exact.” Yikes. Big yikes. “You at least called them, right? They’ll want to know you’re safe.” “I called Dad when I first got here, but he didn’t pick up so I left him a message. I’m pretty sure he got it, because Dana keeps texting me to make sure I’m okay and asking if they should come home early. Dad still hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure he’s worried too.” Even as Tim says the words, it’s clear he doesn’t believe them. Never mind, fuck Jack Drake. Bruce can find another parent to start an alliance with—one who actually cares about their kid. Maybe Crystal Brown is free tonight… Bruce flags down a passing nurse. “Can I get some discharge papers for my son, here?” Might as well throw that in, give himself some extra authority. Whatever gets them out of here quicker. “Thank god,” Tim says. He plucks out the IV and swings his legs off the bed. “I’m sick of this place. You can just drop me off at home and I’ll be all set?” “Drop you off? You’re coming home with me, Tim.” Was that part not clear? “It’s cool, really. I’ll be fine after some rest. You don’t have to look after me.” “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” Bruce thanks the nurse who brings over the discharge papers in record time. People really don’t appreciate nurses enough; he should donate a few million to boost their salaries. He pushes the clipboard into Tim’s hands. “Here, fill these out and we can get going. I’ll call ahead and have Alfred make supper.” “And then I can go home?” Bruce shrugs, eyes fixed on his phone screen as his thumbs fly. “You already have a room made up at the manor, so I don’t see why you can’t stay over tonight. Besides, I’d like to keep an eye on you, just in case.” Anaphylaxis can be a tricky thing. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a mother hen?” “Once or twice.” “Well, they’re right.” Bruce snorts. He works more on his email draft to the school, making a mental note to censor out the swear words during revision. He’s getting flashbacks to years ago when Jason had a close call with some shrimp at a party for a museum opening. Bruce nearly decimated the catering company for not putting out warnings for potential allergens. “Tim?” “Hm?” “How come I’m your emergency contact?” Tim freezes. He doesn’t look at Bruce and twiddles the pen, quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know who else to put? I figured it would never actually be needed, so it wasn’t like you’d ever find out about it anyway. But don’t worry, I’ll change it tomorrow so you don’t need to do this again.” “No,” Bruce says, a little too quickly. “Keep it. It’s...more logical for it to be me. And I really don’t mind.” “You sure? You don’t have to.” “I want to. Partners look out for each other, right?” Tim’s cheeks are flushed under the allergy-induced redness, but he nods. “Right.”

[random-imagines-blog]

Get Hurt {Dean Winchester x Reader}

Requested by:  @fandomofyourchoice-89​ Wordcount: 3973 Summary: Arguing with Dean is never fun. Getting into an accident after you leave said argument is even worse. But such things can have a silver lining. Notes: Some swearing.

You might have offered a lot of things to Dean Winchester, but your freedom was not one of those things. A bit of flesh here, a bit of blood there was one thing, but letting him dictate who you am allowed to talk to - and when? That was asking too much of you. When you woke up to a good morning text from the bartender you were chatting with the night before, you had been feeling pretty on top of the world. It was nice to have a little bit of positive attention, even if it wasn’t exactly from the person you were hoping to have it from. Dean may know monsters, but he couldn’t pick up on your feelings, even from a foot away. He snatched the phone out of your hand to see who the text was from, joking that it was probably from your mom, but when he saw the unfamiliar number, he went from teasing to overprotective. That was not the Dean that you liked to see. He was treating you like you were his car, when someone else was trying to get in the driver’s seat.

“I don’t need to justify myself to you of all people!” You said, wrinkling your nose as you pulled on your sweater for the day. The weather outside wasn’t at the point of frightful, but it was still chilly for the early fall. It helped you to feel less exposed to Dean’s eyes as well, which was good with how sharp they were being today.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean shot back. You looked over at Sam, hoping for some sort of aid, but there was nothing there. The tall moose of a man just disappeared into the small bathroom, closing the door behind him. On one hand, that was a smart move. Your fights with Dean were known to be explosive, though they didn’t happen very often. It was usually just sarcastic comments. But no amount of sass was enough to express your anger today. You were not in the mood to deal with this shit. Not today, and not ever. On the other, it was annoying. You could really use the back up.

“It means that you don’t get to lecture me about a single text message, when you’re the one who always goes home with the bartenders, the single moms, who even knows anymore. Any woman gives you a pretty smile and you swoon off into the sunset, leaving Sam and I behind. And you’re giving me hell over a single text? Really?”

“I don’t sleep with every girl, and it shouldn’t matter! I work hard, I deserve to have a little fun.”

“The fact that you don’t think I work hard enough to exchange numbers with one guy is insulting, Winchester. Downright insulting. You threw your coat on over your sweater, given the weather - and you just wanted to have as much of your clothes on as possible. And there was good reason for that. “You know that vacation that I’ve been talking about taking? I’m leaving today. Right now, actually. Goodbye to your storm cloud, hello sunny California.”

“You don’t get to walk away like this,” Dean said, going to the door that lead to the outside world, and folded his arms. “We have a lot of work to do in this area, Bobby said-”

“Then you better get to it then, shouldn’t you? No time to waste. Not for Dean, the hard working man! And since I hardly do anything, according to you, I should leave. I wouldn’t want to be a hindrance to your greatness!”

In response to this, all that you got was silence. You threw your bag over your shoulder, and put your helmet under your arm, ready to leave. Your bike was calling you, and you were looking forward to the dust blowing under your tires back out on the open road. The problem was that Dean still wasn’t moving.

“Get out of my way, Winchester,” You said, reverting to last names. That tended to be how you reacted when angry at him.

“No,” He said, his biceps flexing beneath the flannel shirt that was keeping him warm. “You know that we need you-”

“And I need away from you!” You shouted, exasperated. “Either you are going to move from that door, or so help me, I’m going to call the police on your credit card scams.”

It was one of the few threats that you had under your belt. Sure, he and Sam would get booked and it would take a couple of hours for Bobby to talk them out of it, but that was a couple of hours horribly wasted.

“Fine, leave, just walk away,” Dean’s deep voice seemed to go even deeper as he moved away from the door.

“Fuck you,” You said, giving him the finger as you walked out of the motel room. It felt good to leave that negativity behind. That overbearing feeling that made you feel as if Dean only saw you as a little sister, rather than as the capable woman that you knew you were. Actually, it was like he didn’t see you as a woman at all, which was hurtful. You’ve loved him so long and-

And you were going to leave that behind, just for a little while. You would come back eventually. The Winchester charm always got to you, the same way that it did for every other woman that Dean talked to. It was the shy, stoic nature behind those green eyes. The way that he quietly seemed to look into your soul, and never had a complaint about what was found.

Think of the palm trees that you were going to see. Think of the beaches, the waves rolling on the sand. Think of being able to lay out and feel the sun on your skin. You could order fruity alcohol drinks from hot waiters wearing only their bathing suits. Maybe you’ll even spot a Kardashian, which you could rub into Dean’s face. You could roll over and say, “Ha, Dean, I spotted her first!”

Except for the fact that Dean wouldn’t be there. It was just as much a break from him as it was a break from the hunt.

You got onto your bike, put the helmet atop your head, and backed away from the black impala as quickly as you could. You refused to look back. That would just be giving Dean satisfaction that you were having second thoughts.

You turned out of the motel and ended up on a long stretch of road that lead west. That was exactly the way that you wanted to go. There weren’t many people about, considering this wasn’t one of the big highways though that would be coming soon.

You slowed down as you saw a shadow dart out across the road, coming from one of the patches of trees. It startled you enough that you lost your balance on the bike, and it started to wobble beneath you. You braced yourself for the crash as the bike finally decided which side it was going to fall on, and you skidded off of the concrete onto the brush by the side of the road. All you can remember is trying to make sure the bike didn’t land too hard on your leg, for it could easily break it.

-

When you came to, you were hearing arguing. The familiar sound of Dean’s voice. “Leave Sammy alone,” You groaned, before opening your eyes. Instead of the expected scene of a motel room, you were surprised to see that you were in a hospital bed. And instead of Dean arguing with his brother, it was a small woman in scrubs that was giving Dean hell.

You remembered everything in that instant, and reached up to touch your head, expecting the worst case scenario. You were anticipating blood or bruises or waking up with a huge bulging eye like Quasimodo in the Disney film. Your chin was a bit tender, since that part hadn’t been entirely covered by the helmet, but the rest of your face felt fine. Dean was watching over you with those stern eyes of his, and suddenly you wished that you were ugly. Then he wouldn’t give you shit for leaving because you already suffered the consequences.

“Don’t start,” You said, looking at him before turning your attention to the Doctor. Or nurse, you couldn’t quite tell. “I definitely feel the effects of the painkillers so I don’t really know what’s wrong.”

The doctor went into professional mode, coming to your side and checking the IV bag that was giving you fluids. “I’m Dr. Williams, you’re in the Kansas Medical Center, and you’re going to be just fine, first and foremost. You did break two of your ribs, but neither ended up piercing any organs. You did fracture your femur and patella, though with some physiotherapy once the cast is off, you should be back to normal, unless you were running marathons.”

“Not quite,” You said, breathing out in relief. Though that did make you well aware of the odd feeling in your chest. Those pesky broken ribs, no doubt.

The doctor left the room after giving you another sweep, and an idea of how long you may have to be in the hospital for. Another night of observation, then she wanted to have you come in for physiotherapy. You said you would, though no doubt you would be back on the road before then, and doing your own exercises. This wasn’t the first time that you’ve broken a bone, though it was the first time it happened outside of a hunt. You figured you knew enough to take care of it on your own.

“What, because I left you had to argue with the Doctor too? Your temper knows no bounds, Winchester,” You said to Dean once Sam stepped out to get some coffee. Dean looked far from amused at that. “Did our insurance scam not go through?”

“This isn’t a joke,” Dean said, closing the door to your private room. That alone told you that the insurance went through. There’s no way that they would put you in a room like this unless they were getting the big bucks. American Medical Care at it’s finest. “You were an inch away from puncturing a lung. If the farmer didn’t see you wipe out-”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure that being friends with angels had a hand in that,” You leaned back against the pillow rather than attempted to sit up. Dean came to stand at the end of the bed, and clenched his fists around the bars at the end of it. “Look, I don’t know how they got a hold of you, or what you think you’re doing, but I’m still taking off to California. Just ... bring my bike to Bobby’s and I’ll fix it when I get back. I’ll just fly, or bus as soon as I can sit up properly.”

“The hell you are,” He raised his voice at you. He hadn’t straight up yelled at you like that in quite some time, even while he was angry. It was startling. “We are all sticking around here, and you are going to listen to the Doctor’s orders.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” You muttered. No Winchester was good at following orders, not even from a well-meaning Doctor. And because of how much time you’ve spent around them, you might as well have been one.

“Excuse me?” He asked, quick to hear your words.

“You’re not well known for following anyone’s orders, Winchester. You just like giving them out, even when completely unwarranted. Like right now,” You glared at him. “Did you just come here to tell me more about what I should and shouldn’t do? To gloat? Just tell me what you want from me, so that we can move on, honestly. This is getting old.”

“I want you to be safe!” He said, his hands tightening around the rails, the knuckles turning white. “I don’t want you off with some random guy, and I don’t want you alone in California and I don’t want you to crash your stupid damn bike on a country road!”

“Why do you think that I can’t take care of myself? We’ve been hunting together for years now!”

The look in his eye after I said this made me sink a little into myself. They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And the hurt that he was feeling made me understand that he was leaving no bit of road unpaved.

“You ended up in the hospital because you ran away,” Dean said, leaning down low, hanging his head so that you could no longer see his expression. That didn’t mean that the pain was invisible, though. “And I’m the one that made you do that.”

“And if I died, you would blame yourself,” You sighed, catching his line of thinking. “But I’m okay. I’m always okay.” You would have gone to the other end of the bed and touched his hand if you could. You could feel the anger and the guilt radiating off of him, like black lines in an anime show. But the discomfort, and pain which was starting to come through despite the meds, was making you stay where you were. “Alright, I have an idea.”

He lifted his head slightly at that, his eyes wide and glistening like a Disney princess. The great Dean Winchester, crying?

“Buy me a burger, bring it back here and we’ll have a dinner and talk - actually talk, not yell at each other this time, okay?”

-

After you were released from the hospital, limping on a cast that was a huge hindrance, things began to change. You couldn’t tell if it was from guilt or because Dean actually wanted to take care of you. But you let him do whatever it was that he wanted to do, because it was the only way for him to cope with what had happened. You and Sam had talked about it late one night when Dean was out to get you your favorite burger, and both agreed that it was best to let this run it’s course, unless he got entirely overbearing again. It was bound to happen sooner or later though. He had already offered to carry you to Baby on more than one occasion rather than let you hobble.

“Dean,” You groaned for the second time that day, though you were definitely blushing more this time. It was a good thing that he couldn’t see through the bathroom door. He was just on the other side of it, so he could hear you, though. “I can bathe by myself. You’re just getting perverted now.”

“I just want to help,” He said, being able to hear that stupid damn smirk on his face. God, he was irresistible. Even you had to admit that it had  been nice to have him pamper you. But now he was wanting to help you wash in the bath while your cast had to be raised up on the edge of the tub. It had been a little difficult to get in and out of lately.

You wrapped the robe tighter around your body. “If I agree...” You said, coyly, biting on your lip, fingers against the lock. “Do you promise that you won’t look.”

“Depends,” He said, and you saw the door physically move, like he was leaning against it. “Are there going to be bubbles to help cover you up?”

You looked behind you at the bathtub that was about half full. You had a small pile of bathbombs that you bought online to at least try to make the experience a little better. It took a lot longer to get in and out of the bath, so you might as well make it as pretty as possible. “There might be a few bubbles, but the water will be colored,” You admitted. It would hide some parts of your body pretty well. But others would be sticking out.  

“I promise I’ll try my best,” was all that Dean had to offer.

“Okay just umm - just give me a second, alright?” You unlocked the door to the bathroom, then attempted to take a step backwards, but pushed a little too roughly on your casted foot. A sharp pain went through your leg and you cursed yourself for being so stupid.

“Are you alright?” Dean asked, his ears catching onto that.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a minute, alright?”  You called out. You took off the robe, and grabbed the towel instead. You wrapped it around your body in a way that it would be easy to take off once you were ready to sink down into the water. What you really needed help with was keeping your balance as you went down, since you had to keep one leg up. Even then, you had it wrapped in cellophane so it wasn’t as likely to get wet. You definitely regretted taking off the way that you did.

You put your good foot into the water, then crouched down, attempting to go on your own as far as you could, but you felt yourself wobbling. You had to put your casted leg on the ground outside of the tub again. You didn’t trust yourself not to fall. Holding the towel tightly against your chest, you finally said, “Okay, I need help. But don’t look, okay?”

The door slowly opened and Dean came inside, one hand covering his eyes and the other reaching out to try to grab a hold of something. He himself nearly tripped on the small carpet and you had to hold your hand out to steady him. You sighed, wondering if he was being this bad on purpose. “Alright, just hold my hand and help me get down, yeah?”

Dean could at least do this. As you got closer to the water, you slid your towel off with the hand that Dean wasn’t holding, and tossed it outside of the tub.

“What was that?” He questioned right away.

“My towel,” You admitted to him. “So keep your damn eyes closed.”

“Eyes closed. Scout’s honor.”

“As if you were a scout.”

You balanced your bad leg on top of the lip of the bathtub so it was jutting out. It was a bit awkward but once you were sitting in the tub, and leaned back, it was a lot better. You sighed contently, then realized that Dean was still holding onto your hand. You quickly snatched it out of his grip then closed the shower curtain on him so he couldn’t see anything anyway. “I’m all sorted, thanks.”

“No problem,” He said from the other side of the curtain. You waited for him to leave but you didn’t hear any footsteps, nor the bathroom door open and close. But what you did see was one side of the curtain moving slightly, as if it were being pulled ever so slowly.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Can’t blame a man for trying,” He chuckled, the curtain falling back into position. “I never ... really apologized for making you run away. And causing all of this.”

“You could never make me do anything. And you didn’t cause this. The stupid farmer who didn’t mind his chickens did,” You wrinkled your nose, thinking about how tempted you were to sue that guy. “Though I will accept your apology about being a jerk. And a bitch.”

“Hey,” He said. You heard the toilet cover flip down, and Dean had the audacity to sit on it. The nerve! Although ... it was actually really sweet that he was in here, making sure that you didn’t have to bathe alone. “I might have been being stubborn, but I had a point. That bartender was a jerk. He was giving his number to everyone with a pulse.”

“So what if he was? It’s not your job to tell me who I can and can’t see. And if I do end up getting hurt, then it’s on him, and it shouldn’t be me that you get mad at.”a

“I wasn’t mad at you,” He said, and you could hear him tensing. The water was moving in small ripples around your body, and it was the only thing causing sound. “I was mad at myself for not telling you sooner.”

“Telling me what?”

“That I care about you.”

This was getting to be a  bit too much for you handle. You put your hands on either side of the tub, took in a deep breath, then lowered yourself into the purple-colored water. It smelled strongly of lavender with jasmine, and the scent had filled your nose just as you slipped under the water. You didn’t open your eyes, you just went under to cool the feeling of your cheeks burning. Even the warm water was cooler than that. When  you rose yourself up, you saw to your dismay that Dean was peeking around the side of the curtain. But at least his eyes were on yours, rather than on any part of your body. And that everything you didn’t want him to see was covered by the colored water and the bubbles that came with it.

“What are you doing?” You said, moving your hands to cover yourself up further.

“You didn’t reply.”

“Did I have to? I would think that my actions over the last few months in particular spoke enough for me.”

Dean stepped back, the curtain moving into it’s usual position, but you still didn’t relax. “It’s really hard to have this conversation when you’re naked.”

“Shouldn’t have started it then,” You grumbled, but you couldn’t even find yourself getting mad. Dean cared about you. That was something that he didn’t say to many people. If he did express that - holy shit, were you ever in. Neither of you spoke for the next ten minutes. Instead, you just focused on yourself, washing your body and your hair. As far as you could tell, Dean didn’t peek again, but remained on his seat on the porcelain throne. “I’m going to need some help up, if that’s alright,” You said, once you’ve finished.

“Yeah,” He said. “Eyes are covered.”

You pulled the plug on the bath, and watched as Dean’s strong arm came through the curtain, holding his hand down low to grasp yours. You took it, and slowly, with the help of his sturdiness, got back onto your good foot, the other still being supported by the side of the bathtub. “Do you think you could...” You were about to ask him for your towel but he took  his hand away from you before you could finish your sentence. Instead of getting handed a towel, the curtain opened and revealed Dean holding open your robe. He no longer had his hand over his eyes like a child, but he was facing the opposite way, eyes closed. You smiled, thinking about how sweet he was being.

And hoping it would last after you healed up properly.

[writing-reading-inspiring]

Matter Of The Heart (Tom Holland X Reader) - Chapter One

Summary: (y/n) doesn’t expect much more out of her life, mostly because it’s ending. However, she definitely didn’t expect to catch the eye of a famous actor who likes to visit the kids on her floor.

Warnings: diseases and medical issues are talked about, mentions of death, curse words

I woke up to the shining sun beaming in from the windows to the right of me, illuminating the entire room in a golden light. I could hear birds chirping as they welcomed the new day with gratitude and grace. Ugh, what show offs.

I grumpily pulled my personal duvet over my head, trying to block out the streams of light long enough to fall back to sleep. 

I knew I was supposed to be awake and that I would probably get shit about this from my doctor, but I really wanted to sleep. I mean, come on, who else doesn’t want to sleep in a few hours more than they’re supposed to.

I sighed in contentment when I was finally able to make it dark enough for me to drift back into sleep. Unfortunately, I was stirred again by a persistent knocking at my door. Damn it, Jade.

“Go away,” I gracefully responded with hair stuck in my mouth.

“You need to be up, (y/n). You have scheduled equipment today,” Jade replied, opening the door as she spoke.

Jade is one of my favorite nurses that works at the hospital. I, of course, would never tell her that, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

“But, it’s so early. Why can’t I ever just rest peacefully and undisturbed. You know medical professionals say to get eight hours of sleep, yet it’s the medical professionals that wake me up before I can get that.”

Jade rolled her eyes at me, “First of all, it’s 10:30 in the morning, so you should have gotten well past eight hours of sleep if you weren’t binge watching an entire season of Supernatural. Second of all, if we left you undisturbed, you would sleep till 5:00 at night and then the night crew would be very upset about having to take care of you on top of their patients who need 24/7 surveillance. So, stop being dramatic and get out of bed.”

I couldn’t help the small grimace that grew on my face as she spoke. We both knew she was right and I had no choice but to get up for the day.

“Fine, but only if I get at least an hour to myself today. I want the promise of not being watched every 10 minutes.”

Jade gave me a look of understanding while she set up her cart. Every morning, she would take my vitals to make sure everything was working right.

“I know it’s difficult, sweetie. You’re an 18 year old girl who doesn’t even get to step outside of the hospital without a nurse with you. It’s tough, but you have to understand that we’re only here to make sure you can live as long as you can. We need to watch you every 10 minutes to make sure that the world can have it’s beautiful (y/n) for as long as it can.”

Jade stopped prepping her needles and came to give me a hug. I sat up and held her back tightly, knowing that she spoke from her heart. That’s one of the things I loved about her and all of the other staff members at the hospital, they genuinely cared about the patients here.

She pulled back from me, giving me a smile as she went back to her cart. “Now then, let’s get you checked up so you can get dressed.”

I nodded at her and crawled to the end of the bed, putting out my arm for her to take my blood pressure. 

I knew by now what the routine was for the mornings. Blood pressure, temperature, heart beat, and blood samples. 

Every morning a nurse would come in and do these tests without fail. At night it’s similar, but I don’t get any blood work done. It’s then that they reconnect me to the heart monitor and put the IV back in me. The doctors want me to be hydrated as much as I can be, so they slowly have me receive saline when I’m sleeping.

Once Jade was done, she left me on my own to get changed, promising that she would be back in 10 minutes to make sure I got some food in me.

I looked through my suitcase, trying to find something comfortable for the day. I was very limited in what I could wear because of testing and the fact that I only can wear what fits in the suitcase. That’s why Aunt Avery exchanges my clothes every two weeks, so I can have different styles.

I grabbed a cute pair of black sweatpants and a white top to go along with it. I didn’t feel like having shoes on today, so I just put on a pair of socks.

Once I was done, I grabbed my phone from the bedside table. 

“Guys, please. I can’t answer all zero of my notifications at once.”

“That’s kinda sad, you realize that.”

I jumped at the sound of Jade’s voice from behind me. I turned around to face her only to see her silently laughing at me.

“Hey, I need to keep myself entertained. The best way to do that is to always keep up my amazing sense of humor, even when I’m alone. Besides, are you surprised I don’t have any texts? I live in the pediatric ward of a hospital.”

She only shook her head at me before placing a tray of food on the table.

“It’s still sad. Anyway, you need to eat before your echocardiogram.”

I sighed before complying. I’m so tired of laying down while doctors poke and prod me for answers. I mean come on, is it really that bad if I go outside just for a walk?

Jade left me to eat my eggs alone as she went to see another patient. 

“Well then, I guess it’s just you and me Mr. Goldberg,” I pitifully said while putting on You.

Every day at the hospital is just like the last. I do testing, then eat, do more testing, take a walk, maybe go to the day room, do even more testing, sleep, and repeat. I swear one day they’ll transfer me to the mental ward if they keep this up. 

I had just finished my eggs and episode six of season two when Jade came back in to see me.

“So, how was your breakfast? Are you still hungry?”

“I’m always hungry, you should know that by now. I’m satiated for now, but give it an hour or so. The food was good though.”

Jade gave me a smile and a small laugh before putting the food tray in a bin in the hallway for the janitors to take back to the cafeteria. 

“I know, I know, I’m such a comedian. Maybe I can do that for a living. You think the hospital would employ me?”

She laughed louder this time, putting her hands on my shoulder, prompting me to stand up.

“Come on, sweetie. It’s time for your echocardiogram. Maybe you can come up with new material while they do it.”

I put my hands over my heart in mock defense. “That hurts. That truly wounded me, Jade. I may need to request a new nurse.”

We continued to joke around as we made our way to the fourth floor where they have a cardiologist office.

“Ah, Miss (y/l/n), you’re here, finally,” Mrs. Denver told me as I walked through the door. I gave her a fake smile and rolled my eyes as she turned her back. She’s a very condescending woman.

Jade gave me a pointed look before squeezing my shoulder and leaving me to fend for myself. By now I know the routine. I do whatever tests Doctor Hasting wants me to do and then I’m free to roam the hospital until 1:30 when a nurse meets me in the cafeteria.

“Okay, here’s the dressing gown I need you to change into. You can wait in the last room on your left. The Doctor will meet you there in a minute, but you know that with all the times you’ve come here.”

I gave her another fake smile, “Thank you, Mrs. Denver.”

I made my way to the room she told me to go to and changed quickly. Ugh, this hospital gown does nothing for my figure. 

I sat down on the examining table and waited for about five minutes before Doctor Hasting arrived. 

“Hello, (y/n), are you ready for your echocardiogram?”

I nodded in response to her words, just wanting to get this over with quickly.

“That’s great and I have some good news for you. We only need to do one other test today, you’ll be done here in about an hour. So let's get started then.”

I sighed in relief before laying on my back as she started to prepare the machines. 

True to her word, I was able to leave after about an hour went by. She told me that she would give the information she gathered from my results to one of my nurses once all of the charts are printed. 

Smiling, I changed back into my sweatpants and t-shirt and said goodbye to the staff in the clinic. 

I made my way to the first level of the building, planning on walking in the garden. I was just about to reach the garden doors when I heard my name being called behind me. Shit.

“(y/n)! (y/n)! I know you can hear me.”

I turned around to face Jade. “Bro, this is some of my only alone time. I’m supposed to meet you in the cafeteria at 1:30.”

She gave me a pointed look, “Well, I’m sorry that I thought you might want to know that you’ve been cleared to visit other patients.”

My eyes widened at her news, “I can go see the kids? Are you being serious?”

She smiled brightly back at me while nodding her head, “You sure can, sweetheart. I know there’s some little patients that have been wanting to see you for the last three weeks.”

For the past month, I’ve been quarantined from the other patients. The doctors have had me pumped with medication that lowers my white blood count and makes it hard for my immune system to fight back any diseases. They figured that the best course of action would be to keep me away from other sick patients. 

I know it’s not cool to be excited to hang out with a bunch of kids in a pediatric ward, but I can't help it. They’re amazing kids who are insanely strong considering everything what they are being put through.

I also know that they absolutely love to see me. I mean, who can blame them though. They think it’s cool to be around an older girl and I get some hope back being around them.

“When can I see them?”

“Right now is preferred. There’s actually a very special guest arriving today, so you may not want to miss that.”

I kind of stopped paying attention after Jade told me that I could see the kids right now. 

I started walking towards the activity room, “Come on, what are you waiting for?”

Jade laughed at me before meeting me at my side, “You really love those kids don’t you?”

I scoffed, trying to act cool, “They’re okay. I mean okay for a bunch of snot ridden children.”

She rolled her eyes at me, bumping my shoulder. “I don’t blame you for caring about them. They’re good kids. They’re also very brave for facing their illnesses like they do. Kind of reminds me of a certain someone when they were younger.”

I lightly smile while looking away. I don’t remember much of my first hospital visit, but I was told I was unaffected by everything. I didn’t really understand my condition when I was 6, I only knew that I had lost my mom and brother. I do remember my second visit though. I was diagnosed then. It was hard for me to deal with, but I never let anyone know that. 

It’s still scary sometimes, knowing that I can die at any time. 

We had finally reached the activity room after a couple of minutes. 

The room was arranged strangely. All of the chairs and the couches were facing a huge open space at the front. I barely remember Jade mentioning a guest, but even when people do visit, they don’t usually rearrange the room. It takes too much time out of the faculties day. 

“(y/n)! You’re here!”

I quickly changed my focus to a little girl in a pink long-sleeved shirt, tutu, and crown.

“Luna! Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty. Hello, you’re majesty,” I finished with a curtsy and a wide smile on my face.

“You may stand,” Luna told me while I chuckled under my breath. She really is something else.

“How are you, princess?”

“I’m great. The doctor told me that the bad thing in my brain is going to go away soon.”

I couldn’t help the tears that began to pool in my eyes as I hugged her. “That’s amazing, Luna. That means you’re going to be all better,” I said, truly happy for her.

“Why were you gone so long?” 

She pulled away from my hug as she looked up at me. “I had to do a lot of tests and procedures for the doctors. The medicine they gave me made me really weak and made my monster protection kind of low. That’s why I couldn’t come see any of you.”

Luna jumped up and down, “That means you’re going to be all better too. My mommy always tells me when I have to meet with my doctors that the more I do it, the more I get better. You were gone a long time, so that must mean you’re close to being better too.”

I really didn’t know what to tell her. I know I wasn’t going to get better, but I couldn’t tell her that. She needs to have hope in all aspects of her life. 

I turned my head up to meet Jade’s eyes. She held so much sadness in them knowing that the only way I was getting out of the hospital was in a hearse. 

I quickly turned back to Luna, “That’s right, honey. But that doesn’t really matter right now. What’s important is that you’re going to be all better really soon.”

She smiled back at me, “You’re going to be healed soon too. James, Elena, William, Quinton! Did you hear (y/n)? She’s going to be better soon.”

I didn’t notice that some of the other kids gathered around Luna and I during our conversation.

I looked back at Jade, not knowing what to do.

Luckily, she saved me, “Come one kids. Our special guest is almost here. Lets get some seats in the front row, yeah?”

I nodded at her in gratitude as she lead the small group to some chairs.

“(y/n), are you coming?” Luna asked me.

“I’m actually going to stand in the back, okay? That way I don’t block any of your guy’s views.”

“Okay!”

I watched as Luna skipped to the front to meet with the rest of her friends. I really do love those kids.

I made my way to the back of the room as some more patients from the pediatric ward came in.

I’ve never seen this big of a turn out for one of these things. It’s kind of weird to be in a room of this many people.

I watched as the last of the kids arrived and took their seats.

Jade surveyed the room before standing in the open space at the front of the room. 

“Hello everybody. So, today we have a very special guest. Now, he’s going to be here any second so I want to say a few things. He came all the way from Queens to see all of you so I expect you all to be very nice and pay attention to our guest. Can you all do that?”

A chorus of ‘yes’s rang through the room.

I zoned out after Jade started to talk again. I knew I should probably listen to her, but I honestly didn’t care enough.

The guest speaker was probably some clown or mime coming to cheer up the kids. Then again, she did say the guest came all the way from queens. Maybe, it was some inspirational speaker.

A round of applause and the sound of excited cheers drew me out of my thoughts. I looked back at the front of the room to see what all of the commotion was about.

Is that … Spider-Man?

[ezrascat]

Just thought I’d put this here.  My first go.  A bit of McKirk fluff.

The Other Side of Midnight

It was coming up on midnight and Bones was happily ensconced in his corner, a glass of Scotty’s Laphroaig clutched in his hand (where did that man find this stuff? He was probably distilling it and just putting it in the bottles - still, tasted damn good), watching as Captain Kirk moved from group to group of these terrible, boring delegates, charming them and appearing interested in the rubbish they were spouting. If anybody had cared to glance over to him where he stood in the shadows, they would have seen his heart in his eyes.

It’s the alcohol, he said to himself. I’m better than this at hiding it.

He took another mouthful of the spirit and rolled it slowly around his mouth. It really was incredibly smooth. It couldn’t be the real stuff, it just couldn’t, but by Christ… He raised the glass again and then stopped, startled, as a hand covered the top of the glass.

“Designed to be savoured, Dr McCoy,” said Sulu with a smile. “It’s not water, you know”.

“Technically I could argue that,” Bones growled. “But I take your point”. He raised the glass in a toast but didn’t drink it. “Just got a bit distracted”.

Sulu followed his gaze and nodded. “So I see. He does a good job, doesn’t he? I don’t know how he keeps that expression on his face”.

Bones watched as Jim turned to yet another group, his eyes passing apparently unseeingly over the little group of his crew, but Bones saw the softness appear fleetingly in his eyes and the slightest quirk of his lips. He raised the glass again and felt his eyes soften in response. He loathed these receptions with the passion of a thousand burning suns, but he would follow Jim into the bowels of hell if he was asked to (in fact, he thought he had on a couple of occasions), and Jim had asked, looked at him with those stupid eyes, his legs all tangled around Bones’ own, his bed hair pointing in every direction, and had said, “Come with me, Bones. You’re not specifically invited, but I want you there”.

“Well of course I wasn’t invited”. Bones did the whole ‘gruff and angry’ thing (he was beginning to suspect it was his default setting), and he employed it now. “After all, why would they invite the Chief Medical Officer?” He had raised his hand, unable to resist Jim’s gravitational pull, the allure of the long, lean back, the skin that still held the hint of a tan (after a fantastically filthy couple of days spent on Atraxia IV – who knew this old body could get into that kind of position?). “If you want me there, then I’ll be there”.

Jim had smiled at him and flumped onto his back, trapping Bones’ hand beneath him. “Good,” he said. “Thanks, Bones. I need you there…” He turned his head and smiled again, forcing Bones to really glower so that he didn’t give himself away by doing something ridiculous like smiling in return. “After all, what if I eat something weird and have a reaction to it? Need you to save me”.

“Is that all?” Bones pulled his hand out from beneath Jim’s back and reached up, making a half-hearted attempt at smoothing down the mad hair before running his hand down JIm’s face, cupping his cheek, smiling as Jim tilted his head to rest against Bones’ warm palm. And yes, of course he smiled, he wasn’t some unfeeling zombie (oh, that had been a laugh, when they had met the unfeeling zombies. Jim’s remark afterwards about feeling as if he was in a holovid? Yup). And with a warm and enticing handful of Jim Kirk, who could possibly pretend to be anything other than happy?

“You’re my saviour,” Jim had replied, nipping softly at Bones’ throat. “You know that, you know you are, so don’t pretend”.

Yes, he was Jim’s saviour, and yes he did know that. He had saved this angry, angry young man who insisted on lashing out in all directions with no real idea what it was he hated, and who did not believe that there was anything in him that was worth anybody’s time. But what Jim still – still – refused to accept or acknowledge was that it had been mutual. They had saved each other. It may have had all the subtlety of a wreck on the highway, but these two had recognised each other and realised what was needed. Bones would forever be grateful for that. He would forever be grateful for the fact that he, and only he, got to see this part of Jim – this ridiculous, boneless creature wrapped around him, open and vulnerable and showing Bones every part of his soul. Nobody had ever seen that before, and sometimes it made Bones want to weep for the sheer joy, responsibility and heartbreak of it all.

Bones shook his head, coming back to the present. He held up the heavy crystal tumbler, letting the light play through the peaty colour of the liquor. This was really good shit if it could send him off down that kind of avenue. He glanced around, but nobody seemed to have noticed, so perhaps he hadn’t been staring at Jim with his tongue hanging out (it had happened. He had been semi-conscious, but still…)

“Dr McCoy”. Spock materialised in that creepy way of his, annoyingly blocking his view. Bones pushed himself upright, refusing to slouch in front of such a very – upright – person.

“What can I do for you?” He nodded at Uhura who stood beside Spock, one arm resting lightly on his forearm in a display of possessiveness that was the human equivalent of a tongue down the throat. Living on the edge, you two. He stopped himself from going any further down that route.

“It is a pleasant surprise to see you here tonight.” Spock turned slightly to acknowledge Sulu, who was by now standing in the corner, glassy eyed. “Mr Sulu seems to be somewhat unwell”.

“Mr Sulu seems to be somewhat hammered out of his skull”. Bones shifted as if he was going to move away, but Uhura shook her head. “I’ll see to him,” she said. “I think he’s missing his family. We need a long chat”. She squeezed Spock’s arm (calm down, Uhura!) and made her way over to Sulu, just stopping him from sliding down the wall. She put her arm around his waist and without any visible effort led him from the room. That woman had the core strength of a – thing with a hell of a lot of core strength. Again, Bones’ mind began to wander and he recalled himself with difficulty. Really, Bones, waaaay too much to drink.

So there he was, left with Mr Talkative. He thought about taking another sip of the good stuff, but managed to stop himself. Not for a while. You’re heading into Sulu territory. And Mr Talkative was looking at him in that way he did when he was about to ask something really personal. Oh god.

“Dr McCoy, I am glad that we met.” As if they had just run into each other in the street. “I was hoping that I could discuss something with you”.

“Yes?” Bones said warily. This could really go in any direction.

“It is about the Captain”.

Oh thank all the gods! I don’t want to think about their sex life. Shit! Now I’m thinking about their sex life.

Bones put the glass down. “What about him?”

“Although I know it is none of my business on a personal level, on a professional one, I have to say that I think the Captain is looking over-tired. Do you think he has been taking on too much recently?”

“He always takes on too much, we all take on too much,” replied Bones. “His problem is that he broke his ribs when he fell into the pit on Q’oth, and got his foot half ripped off at the same time, and then refused to stay in bed to recover, as usual. Oh, and then he got that fever about 10 days later. He’s been through a lot in a short time, and we’re none of us as young as we once were”.

“I was going to suggest that perhaps a medical leave of absence for perhaps 48 hours would help?”

“Yes it would, and don’t think I haven’t thought about it”. Bones shrugged. “But you know what he’s like”.

“Indeed.” The one word said it all. May as well try and catch the rain as tell that man what to do when he don’t want to.

“Short of tripping him up and dislocating his knee, there’s no way I can persuade him,” said Bones. “And tempting as it sometimes is to do that, it wouldn’t go down well”.

“I have a proposition that does not involve bodily harm”.

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” Bones grinned, a little manically, he suspected. As expected, there was no reaction. What goes on in that head of yours? When you die, can I dissect you?

***

It was the other side of midnight and the reception was slowly winding down, people taking their leave, heading either planet side or to their cabins. As always, the space that had been so glamorous-seeming during the reception began to take on a slightly sordid, seedy air.

“Makes you want to throw open the windows and let the night air in,” Jim said, now leaning comfortably against the wall next to Bones, their shoulders touching.

“Don’t do that,” Bones said. “Don’t even say that. You know what you’re like for saying something and then doing it”.

“Bones,” Jim laughed softly. “The windows don’t actually open”. He reached over and picked up the long-abandoned glass that was still on the table near Bones’ hand. He took a quick sniff at it and blinked. “That’s good, good stuff”. He took a tentative sip and Bones fought down his immediate response to knock it away from him just in case he turned out to be allergic to it. He wasn’t allergic to whiskey, Bones knew that perfectly well; it didn’t like him, but that was an entirely different matter involving vomiting, headaches and self-pity.

“I’d like that,” he said. “I’d like to be somewhere with night air and stars and – us”. He may have started blushing halfway through the statement. It was awful personal and romantic for a public space.

Jim smiled, settling back against the wall, slightly closer, his fingers touching the back of Bones’ hand. He didn’t speak, but Bones, sneaking a look at his face, saw the tiredness there, the sheer bone-deep exhaustion. It wasn’t so long ago that Jim had been through a bout of depression that had been horrible to witness; it had left Bones weeping in frustration at his inability to help the man he loved to come back, and it was something he never wanted to experience again. Sometimes it felt as if all he wanted to do was pull Jim close and keep the world at bay. And he knew what Jim’s response to that would be.

“Come on, Bones.” Jim pushed himself away from the wall, moving in that abrupt way he had sometimes, usually when he had made a decision that would in some way cause Bones to roll his eyes. He rolled his eyes.

“What?” he said suspiciously. “It’s too late and I’m too old for it, whatever it is”.

Jim held out his hand, cocked his head in that way that he knew was guaranteed to make Bones melt and gave a half smile. “Dance with me”.

There was a nanosecond’s silence. “What?”

Jim waggled his fingers. “Dance with me”.

And just like that, as usual and forever, Bones submitted. He went for a token snort and eye roll, but nothing more than a token, and pushed himself away from the wall in his turn, reaching out and taking Jim’s hand. Jim smiled, but not in triumph, just in satisfaction and pleasure, and turned, the hand holding Bones’ behind his back as he led the way to the open space, now almost empty as the last of the crew and delegates left.

Reaching the centre of the room, Jim turned again and rested his free hand on Bones’ shoulder, then rested his head on that hand. Bones felt the tension leave him in a wave and pulled him closer, his cheek resting against Jim’s hair. He smelled of sweat and alcohol and the undefinable smell that was Jim. The smell of home, Bones supposed, without surprise. Jim had been his home since that first day on the shuttle.

Once, Bones would have been embarrassed to do this, to be seen behaving like this in public. He loved Jim, but had no wish to put it on public display. He wanted to keep it between them. Private. Impossible. But that was impossible. Jim swept aside any inhibitions he may have had, and now Bones was happy just to be there; there with his Jim. He tightened his grip. Christ above, he loved this man. Jim grunted an acknowledgement and shifted an impossible micron closer.

“Jim”. Bones whispered the name, no more than a hint of sound. “Jim, listen. I’m done for a while, I’m tired, I’m cranky and I’m middle-aged. I haven’t had leave since – don’t remember”. He turned his head as much as he could trying to see if there had been a reaction. “I plan to sign myself out for 48 hours starting tomorrow. The mission is done, we have to stay here for another three days to unload the cargo before heading back. I’m just asking you plain and simple to come with me”. He pressed his lips against Jim’s hair to still any complaint. “I know you’re real busy, but I’m tired, and any leave without you wouldn’t be leave, you know? I don’t want to go anyplace without you”. He stopped, realising he was rambling, and felt Jim sigh against him, leaning on him a little more heavily, angling his head so that Bones felt soft lips against his neck.

“You know something, Bones? All you had to do was ask. You’re right, and I know you’re right, and I know you’re right. You know me, I just need to be told sometimes”. Bones felt Jim smile against his neck. “Spock can look after anything that happens, I guess. It’s only unloading whilst in stationary orbit”.

“Let go sometimes, darlin’. Just let go. Trust your crew”.

“I do. Of course I do”.

“You have nothing left to prove. So listen to me; let me the one who tells you that you need to rest”.

“Mmm. You do it really well”.

“You were ready to be told, don’t try and fool me. You can blame me for anything that goes wrong now”.

There was no response. Bones smiled and moved his hand, resting it against the back of Jim’s neck. There are no words. There will never be words big enough for this. Thank you, Spock, for the suggestion. (“Dr McCoy, you are an intelligent man. Surely you understand that all you have to do is ask him to join you. Do not demand; simply focus on yourself, on your own need. He will not deny you”. A big ‘fuck you, dimwit’ wrapped up in so-called logic. Enjoy the rest of your life, Uhura.

On the other side of midnight, Bones and Jim danced to music only they could hear.

[mayapenelopeclutterbucket]

*SPOILERS* for TGD 3x12 “Mutations” aka this is me typing from the dead because this episode gave me more then one heart attack 😭🙏🏼

Also I’m sorry this post got so long I’m just so excited/happy Jesus Christ like wow just wow

So I wasn’t initially going to watch this live because I have work at 5 in the morning 🙃 and because I wouldn’t be able to pause it while my hands try to keep up with my thoughts but it’s been so long since I’ve been able to do it and I missed it despite my hatred of commercials lol so wish me luck!

Also I’m very very excited for the melendaire content we’re getting tonight since they’re working together again and I’m freakin hoping at this prom they throw Melendez either does a double take at how nice Claire looks OOOOR we get him asking her dance 😭 just SOMETHING PLZZZ

I haven’t even started the ep yet and already can’t wait to see some of the moments in hd tomorrow once it comes on Hulu 😂

I can’t believe shaun is really gonna move out like I get where Carly is coming from but shaun is allowed to have female friends and after some theories from the last ep I’m worried shaun only told Carly he loved her so she wouldn’t leave him like “everyone else”

Aww adorable these two are so cute and Claire thinks they’re adorable as well and imma sue abc if one half of that couple dies or even worse BOTH

Melendaire group chat finally popping again 😭 although I don’t text back until break I love y’all tho 💕💕

So secret checkups with glassy and Morgan 👀 when are ppl gonna find out about her arthritis for the drama~~

Oh my god since when does Melendez go in there for MRIs it’s so just to see Claire oh my god Melendez being in love with Claire and her usual compassion

Omg cuties joking about Claire going to therapy and it working well and talking about love and being happy

Like why else have them interact like that omfgggg I can’t not even five minutes in and we were already getting melendaire content 😭 THEYRE SOULMATES

God damn it I knew it something was gonna happen to the girl since the guy is a okay

Well damn that medication Morgan is on for her arthritis is FUCKING her up smh 🤦🏻‍♀️

Aww all she wanted was one prom but we know Claire will make it happen for her

Aww them talking about prom and Melendez wanting Claire’s answer and her talking about her mom so freely and then going to see glassy together THE MELENDAIRE MOMENTS KEEP COMING 🙏🏼

The fact the writers were just like fuck park lmao he doesn’t even need to be in this scene with Melendez & Claire or instead of Claire 😂

I’m surprised Carly didn’t say anything about lea knowing their business again

Lmaoo Andrews calling Morgan out about sucking up and her owning it

Claire you are not sorry for overstepping don’t lie lol

Sharly working together professionally how adorable

Park is so annoying I’m v done with him he has no soul IM TIRED OF IT

I have missed Claire being pushy to help her patients

I’m glad Carly’s smarts and her being badass scenes are being extended past the lab

Oof Melendez being supportive of his boo and unsurprised of Claire wanting to make their patient happy (BECAUSE HE LOVES HER FOR IT AND IS GRATEFUL HE GETS TO WORK WITH HER REMEMBER) and wanting her to find a way around the mom 😭😭

God I love these two

Oof trouble with sharly has risen

Awww Carly and shaun getting each other and their ideas and finishing each other’s sentences l*mlendez could NEVER but melendaire could 😂 sorry cheap shot I know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Glassy is gonna out Morgan on her arthritis soon I feel it

Wow a shaire moment when was the last time they shared a fucking scene like they’re supposed to be besties wtf happened writers?!!? Aaaand it’s over in like a minute

😭😭 Claire is such an angel she’s the freakin BEST

Carly using science to explain how she feels to shaun cute

Oh my god no you can’t use an Ed sheeran song with cancer patients 😭😭 that makes it 20x sadder

Melendez and Claire are totally staring at each other in awe omg

Omg Claire Melendez are chaperones park no where to be found y’all know what that MEANS and they’re the only other people there they better fucking dance together omg I can’t he just said Claire looked to be feeling idiotic happiness 😭

AND HOLY FUCKING SHIT I WAS RIGHT I FROZE AND COULDNT BREATHE BUT MELENDEZ REALLY DID ASK CLAIRE TO DANCE AND THEY DID HOLY SHIT I CANNOT BELIEVE WE GOT THAT MELENDAIRE MOMENT I’VE BEEN DYING AND WAITING FOR SINCE I SAW THE BTS SCENE OF CLAIRE IN THAT OUTFIT AND FOUND OUT THIS EP WAS GONNA BE A PROM EP I had to type all that after the moment ended so I could really experience it since I can’t pause OR rewind but I was yelling oh my god so much my sister had to ask if I was okay 😂😭 I had a heart attack when he asked her if she wanted to dance ngl

Claire being inspirational and giving good speeches again I love her so much and am so glad she’s doing better

Carly you better not have changed your MEDICAL opinion because you wanted it to align with Shaun’s 🙄

Wow glassy you really had no other ideas nor could you jump in I hate him

The melendaire exchanging looks scenes are back in action

Wow that Carly and shaun moment was super adorable him calling her idea perfect and brilliant and her being brilliant and almost perfect 😭

Man they really said fuck park this ep huh he isn’t with Claire and Melendez again

But boy shit no she died 😩😩

Wtf why can’t Claire and her patients ever catch a BREAK like leave Claire ALONE and omg does Claire being heartbroken again mean we get another Melendez comforting Claire scene?! Becaus the way he stared after her after she ran off 👀👀 oof is NOT platonic lol

Aww sharly held hands to comfort and support each other

Holy shit I was right suck it katie @pinkobsessedfreak (I’m just kidding I love you 😂💕💕) for bringing the group chat down and shutting my theory down

BECAUSE GUESS WHAT WE SERIOUSLY GOT MELENDEZ GOING AFER CLAIRE WITH ANOTHER STAIRS AND BALCONY SCENE AND HIM COMFORTING HER AND MAKING HER FACE HER FEELINGS AND TELLING HER ITS OKAY TO BE ANGRY AT HER MOM (I was robbed of a hug but it’s okay I got everything else I fucking needed tonight) and now he has an idea for with something that makes him feel better

That fake out 😂😂

Wow oh wow this ep really was chock full of melendaire moments NOW THEYRE BONDING BY MELENDEZ AND CLAIRE RUNNING TOGTHER AND HIM HELPING WITH HER GRIEF AND AND EMOTIONS AND TEASING EACH OTHER OH MY GOOOOOD IVE DIED AND COME BACK TO LIFE SO MANY TIMES THIS EP SO IM SORRY IF THIS POST IS SO LONG

don’t y’all love how lim was in this epcand yet we didn’t get a SINGLE l*’mlendez ep because I sure af do!!! Also park who?? Lmao he was hardly in this ep even tho he working the same patient with Melendez and Claire they really shoved him out to make these endless melendaire moments happen

SLOW BURN BABY WE BACK IN FUCKING BUSINESS

Also in other news shaun lost his v card and it looks like we’ll get some more Morgan angst with her mom possibly dying or some shit like that like man these writers really don’t want any of the residents and doctors to have good parents or alive ones for that matter lmao

Also some breznick moments which will be cute

YALL IM STILL SO EXCITED FROM TONIGHT LIKE OMG THIS SHOW THIS SHIP GETS ME EVERY TIME I CANT WAIT TO GIF IT TOMORROW 😭😭 like I can’t get over it I’m in SHOCK still

We’ve really gotten Melendez comforting Claire not once not twice BUT THREE TIMES this season. This really is our season and people try to say Melendez treats all his residents like he does Claire or that he has done the same for others before YEAH FUCKING RIGHT

Okay I’m done I think freaking out at least on this post freak out about it in the comments with me tho or my ask or by reblogging just be happy with me okay 😂

P.S. check out my melendaire gifset that’s not showing up in the tags 🙃

[hashtagartistlife]

i have always been lucky, growing up asian in a predominantly white country. when we were poor, at least i spoke english fluently enough that we weren’t cheated out of money because of language barriers. in primary and high school, i wore glasses and was stereotypically ‘asian’ but at least i was sent to a school in the nicer districts where blatant racism was discouraged. At least I was sociable enough, or sociable in the right ways, to make friends. At least i was top of my school so that i had something to hold over everyone else. when i went to uni, at least i was in a degree that was full of other immigrant asian kids. now that ive graduated, at least i’ve got a decent job and title that makes people think twice about making jabs at me for my race. I’ve been lucky. I’ve been so, so, inordinately lucky. 

BUT 

when i was in primary school they made me sit through three years of ESL, two years more than I actually needed it because by the end of the first year I spoke english better than all the white kids in my normal class and yet they kept me there for two more years because ????? and

when i was in high school they gypped me out of the valedictorian spot two years in a row to some white girl even though i’d run the numbers in my head (like all good asian girls do) and there was no possible way she could have scored higher than me except, of course, in the gray areas of the syllabus called things like ‘attitude in class’ or ‘participation’ or ‘????????’ and mother sat me down and had the ‘twice as good as them for half the recognition’ talk which is a talk i never thought i’d get because i was leagues above everybody else in my year and yet, and

my brother who was small and quiet and apparently not sociable enough or in the right ways was bullied all the way through primary school even though his english is perfectly fine, and in fact english is his first language and 

in uni in physics class which is literally 75% east asian kids the coordinator employed by the actual uni said to the exchange student waiting in line in front of me that we speak english here, you know that, right? just because he fumbled a word or two in their exchange, and 

at work where i am a medical professional old white men lean towards me conspiratorially and wink and say ‘well, with the kind of stuff they eat over there, it’s no wonder’ in a scornful tone of voice like I, too, am not part of the continent they just damned and

none of this matters none of me matters i am a daughter and older sister and valedictorian and a masters degree and a medical title but somehow all that i am is asian when strangers who pass me on the street tell me to go back to where i came from and call me a pig. i pay more taxes than you, i have contributed to this country more than you ever will, i will contribute to this country more than you can ever dream of and if i win a nobel prize, if i publish a book, if i get called overseas to present at symposiums ten, twenty, fifty years from now i will do it with australian tagged behind my title and i will wish it wasn’t there, because of people like you. back in korea looking up at the sky my mother grew up looking at, i will get homesick for australia and i will feel awful because of people like you. i have been as lucky as it is possible to be while growing up asian in a white country and still i can eke out stories of discrimination like finding halloween lollies scattered on the lawn after trick-or-treat. every asian who grows up in white countries has these stories. every asian. even the lucky ones. even ones like me. 

i am tired that in the wake of an international emergency the first worry that all immigrant asians have is not the virus itself but the fear of discrimination i am tired of having to smile at people who make racist jokes and think it’s a conversation starter i am tired of feeling guilty that i do not have the energy or the emotional space to correct these people every time i am tired that every time someone asks me where im from i have to wonder how i should answer. i crave the privilege of existing without being questioned 

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

Ok, last chapter was labled in text as chapter three, it is in fact chapter four. I only had one brain cell left when I was sorting that. anyway, chapter five. trigger warnings for abuse.

Chapter Five: Light ‘em Up By Fallout Boy

               This was it. It was time. D-day, final boss, no not final boss. This was just the beginning. Today was the day they brought Virgil home. This was absolute next level stuff.

               Patton frantically washed the dishes from breakfast. And having run out a long time ago was now just washing the same plate over and over.

               “Logan! What do we do?” Patton looked over to his husband in desperation. “What if he doesn’t like it here? What if he doesn’t like us? We only met him a couple of times! I want him to like us! What if I’m a bad parent?”

               “I’m sure you’re worrying over nothing.” Logan was installing outlet plugs. “You’ll be an excellent dad. And Virgil has already taken to you quite a bit.”

               “Are you sure?”

               “Of course.” Logan looked up at him. Patton could see the terror in his eyes.

               Duh! Patton cursed himself. How could he not see how scared Logan was of all this. Logan was the one who everyone accused of not being empathetic. And he was the one who everyone called a robot. Of course, he’d be afraid of parenting. And of course, he wouldn’t say that.                

               “Hon,” Patton knelt to eye level with Logan. “I know you’re gonna be a fantastic dad. You already have been. Every time I started freaking out you grounded me back to reality. And not just this past week with Virgil either. Always. And you listened to the doctor without going all out of sorts, you got Virgil to talk about himself and you knew when we were overwhelming him.”

               Logan sighed and stared at the outlet. All that energy now inaccessible just because of a piece of plastic. Stopped up. Ineffective. No good.

               “I-” Logan started and was instantly cut off.

               “You’re not bad at emotions.” Patton embraced him. “You’re better at them than anyone I know. The Logan right here is the best Logan there is. And I would know. I married him, on purpose.”

               “I love you.” Logan sighed, tensely hugging Patton back. “I want you to know that.”

               “I know. I’ve always known. And I love you too. With all my heart.”

               “I never had to wonder that.”

               “And I never once had to wonder if you loved me.”

               Logan pulled away and smiled.

               “Well, then.” He rubbed his neck nervously. “Let’s go get our son.”

               “That sounds nice.” Patton sighed. “Our son.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               “You ok now sweetie?” Patton asked dabbing Virgil’s mouth with a wetted down paper towel. “Do you need to throw up again?”

               Both of them were sitting on the floor of Virgil’s hospital room. Virgil was doubled over holding his stomach and breathing heavily. The transition was not helping his anxiety.

               “No, I think I’m empty now.” He said shakily, shooting Patton a suspicious glance. “Let’s just go.”

               Patton stood up and pulled Virgil off the floor. He guided him to the bed and sat him down carefully.

               “We brought you these.” Patton handed him a grocery bag. “One of our friends gave us some old clothes that might fit you. Since, well you know, the fire.”

               Virgil fell backwards onto the bed and groaned.

               “What is it? Are you gonna throw up again?” Patton darted over to him.

               “I’m not gonna be able to dress myself for another couple of days.” He hissed, completely red. “Not without help. I didn’t think of that.”

               “I guess this is a pretty bad week for you.” Patton said blankly, but the awkwardness wasn’t lost on him.

                                                                               #             #             #

               Virgil limped into the lobby with one crutch to support him and Patton hovering over him like a linebacker to stabilize him if anything happened. Patton isn’t exactly doctor supported medical equipment, but if you can get one it helps. Virgil’s free hand occasionally fluttered up to check on a bulge in his hoodie, where he had stashed the bear. He was more or less constantly making sure it was still zipped up in there.

               Logan and Roman stood anxiously in the lobby with Virgil’s medication in hand. The four met in silence and turned towards the door. Everything was working out without a hitch. But the hitch was waiting for them outside.

               A title wave of reporters came crashing down on them and they were consumed by camera flashes while being beaten with microphones, tape recorders and video cameras. Working like predators the press worked between the four of them and forced them apart. Patton looked frantically for Virgil, thinking that the reporters must have trampled him like Black Friday shoppers. He saw Logan, who was also on the brink of panic. He caught a glimpse of Roman, who was shoving people back like a bouncer. And lastly, he saw Virgil, looking panicked as one reported bounced around him like a birthday clown on crack.

               He started wading towards him to get rid of the goon when he saw said goon knock Virgil’s crutch out of his hand. Virgil stumbled back and fell to the ground, and the bear fell out of his jacket. The goon stepped back a bit while Virgil started having a panic attack. Most of the press backed off when they saw him, but some of them got even closer. Oh, hell no. They would not hurt his baby.

               “EVERYBODY BACK OFF!!!” Patton screamed in a voice that would defeat Goliath.

               They all looked to him, utterly stunned.

               “I AM GOING TO COUNT TO THREE AND THEN I AM CALLING THE POLICE! ANYONE STILL HERE WHEN I GET TO THREE IS GETTING ARRESTED! GOT THAT!? ONE!... TWO...”

               They all scattered as professionally as they could.

               “AND IF I SEE ANY OF THIS ON THE NEWS TONIGHT EVERY STATION IS GETTING SLAPPED WITH A LAWSUITE!” He shouted after them.

               He rushed over to Virgil, who was still on the concrete, Logan and Roman at his side.

               “It’s ok sweetie.” Patton soothed. “They’re gone now. It’s ok.”

               “Did that freak hurt you in any way?” Roman asked softly.

               “N-No.” Virgil wheezed. “I-I- I’m o-o-kay.”

               “Virgil,” Logan said gently, “This is going to sound strange, but I want you to list all the prime numbers you can.”

               “W-why?” Virgil gasped, face wet with tears and going very pale.

               “Just trust me.” Logan squeezed his shoulder. “Can you do that?”

               “O-k-k-ay.” He coughed. “T-two, three, f-ive, se-seven, eleven, thirt-thirteen.” His tone became steadier. “Seventeen… nineteen, twenty-three,” He took a deep breath. “twenty-nine.” He stopped abruptly. “That-that worked!” He smiled slightly. “What kind of black magic was that?”

               “It’s just left brain/right brain science.” Logan explained. “Fear and anxiety are controlled by the right brain, so those feelings can be reduced by doing left brain activities.”

               “Cool.” Virgil whispered. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

               Patton stood up and pulled Virgil to his feet, foot.

               “Logan knows all kinds of things.” He beamed. “He’s the smart one.”

               “Say padre,” Roman said picking Virgil’s crutch up off the ground. “I haven’t heard your Zeus voice since senior prom. Are you alright?”

               “I’m fine.” He gently stroked Virgil’s hair. “I just got upset when that guy knocked Virgil over.”

               “Well, we shouldn’t have to worry about any of them again.” Logan smiled, handing the stuffed animal back to Virgil, who immediately socked it away back into his hoodie.

               “Yeah, I about peed myself and you weren’t even mad at me.” Virgil added. “That was some intense stuff, Uncle Patton.”

               Patton felt the excitement tinglies ripple through him. He was Uncle Patton! And Virgil called him it! What a rollercoaster of a day.

               “You should have seen him at prom.” Roman added teasingly before lapsing into a tense voice. “Have any of you ever thought about how it feels to be treated like dirt just because you think differently?! Have you!? Have you ever considered that?! No, and why should you?! You don’t actually think at all! You want to talk about incapable of empathy? How about a room full of monsters who torture somebody and laugh while they are screaming for help!?! Have you ever considered how horrible it is to be the outlier who has the misfortune to cross your socio-paths? No! of course not! You only see things from your point of view! And everyone else must be broken! Well fuck every last one of you! And if you don’t all descend to hell when everything is over then I’m going to petition god to send you there himself!” Roman finished. “It was glorious.”

               “I didn’t say the “f-word” did I?” Patton slumped his shoulders.

               “You don’t remember?” Roman laughed. “I almost made that my yearbook quote. It was a soliloquy to rival ‘to be or not to be,’ someone put it on a poster in the library.”

               “I seriously considered making it my valedictorian speech.” Logan added. “And if I had been in a better state of mind during your speech, I would have gotten down on one knee and proposed to you then and there.”

               Patton blushed and looked at the ground.

               “We should go.” He whispered.

               “I call bullshit!” Virgil objected. “No way Uncle Patton said that.”

               “We’ll tell you all about it on the ride home.” Roman said gleefully.

               “No, we won’t.” Patton mumbled.  

               “Let’s be on our way.” Roman ignored him. “I’ll drive.”

               Roman did tell the story on the ride home. And no matter how many times Patton tried to change the subject, Roman went back to his story unfazed.

               “And so, we finally arrived, an hour late and very tired.” Roman continued his retelling. “En route I stepped in a puddle that was about knee deep and ruined my pants.”

               “Virgil, what’s your favorite color?” Patton interrupted.

               “Purple.” He answered, gazing into the front seat. “Then what happened?”

               “Well, we missed the photographer because we were late. Which worked out, because we weren’t exactly looking our best. During the slow dance my date was asked by a girl to dance, and he danced with her the entire night. He later told me it was because he wasn’t out yet. But he went as my date to prom, not my friend, my date. And everyone knew.”

               “What a bitch.” Virgil agreed. “Did you get back at him?”

               “Later.” Roman smiled. “Now Logan was actually not out yet, so he and Patton did just go as friends, as far as everyone else knew. Neither of them really danced, they just kind of hung out.”

               “And some idiots crept up behind us and emptied the entire punch bowl over our heads.” Logan added.

               “Why?”

               “They didn’t like me.” Logan shrugged. “And the feeling was mutual.”

               “Virge, do you have a girlfriend?” Patton tried again.

               “No. Then what happened?”

               This kid liked gossip.

               “Well the idiots harassed Logan for a longer while, then Patton had his glorious monologue. And the shame that filled the room was tangible. A few girls ran out crying. And one dude just left.”

               “How come the teachers didn’t step in for any of this?” Virgil asked.

               “Virgil, you’re in school, right?” Roman countered.

               “I mean, it’s summer but yeah.”

               “Do your teachers do much to stop harassment?”

               “That answers that question,” Virgil looked out the window. “Then what happened?”

               “Patton and Logan went outside. Leaving everyone to sit in their guilt.”

               “Our first kiss.” Patton mumbled dreamily. Something good came from all that.

               “And I was elected prom queen.” Roman finished.

               “Don’t you mean king?” Virgil asked, looking back at Roman. “I mean sounds like you’re a dude and that you were a dude then too.”

               “Yes, but they thought it would be a great joke to vote for me as queen. You know because gay. But since they all voted for me, I won.”

               “What did you do?” Virgil looked mortified at the idea.

               “I marched myself up to that stage, blowing kisses to everyone. And when I got up there, I kissed the prom king right on the lips. It was one of those romantic kisses where you dip the other one back. Then I hammed it up like it was the Oscars. I gave a speech about how proud I was of their acceptance and how humbled I was by their kindness. And how they were so beautiful that they all deserved crowns. Then, I danced out while singing ‘I’m still standing’ by Elton John.”

               “No!” Virgil objected eagerly.

               “I did.”

               “Did he?” Virgil beamed at Patton.

               “He did, everyone was talking about it when we got back to school.” Patton answered. “That and me yelling at everyone.”

               “I think you did the right thing.” Virgil said, turning back to the window. “I don’t get why you’re embarrassed; all you did was call them out for being dicks.”

               “There are a lot of feelings about that night.” Patton looked away. “It’s complicated.”

               “No, it’s not.” Logan looked back at him. “What’s complicated?”

               “I don’t wanna have this talk in front of Virgil, ok hon?”

               “Are you still upset about…”

               “Yes. Please. Not now.” Patton cut him off.

               “Ok. We will discuss it later.” Logan held up his hands in a peace-making gesture.

               Virgil looked back and forth between them then went back to the window.

               “Virgil,” Logan changed the subject. “I forgot to ask what grade you’re in now.”

               “I- eighth grade.” He said quickly. “Just like all the other kids my age.”

               “So, you’re starting high school in the fall?” Logan continued.

               “Yes?” Virgil squeaked, now turning red.

               “No one wants to talk about school in May.” Roman interrupted, sounding flustered. “He just got out a couple of weeks ago, don’t remind him he needs to go back.” Roman changed the subject. “Tell us more about the inferno, I may want to do a showing of it at the college. Or adapt a version of it. I think it would be nifty to set it during the civil war.”

               “It takes place in hell,” Virgil interrupted. “The time period doesn’t really matter.”

               “You, my dear who’s who of the damned, have a lot to learn about theater.”

               Logan gave them the footnotes of the inferno until they arrived home.

               “Right, first things first.” Patton said, helping Virgil out of the car. “It’s lunch time. I hope you’re hungry kiddo. People have been sending us food like we were planning on bringing home an entire orphanage.”

               “Ok.” Virgil responded blankly.

               “And once you’re settled in, we’ll introduce to the miracle that is the life work of Walt Disney.” Roman added with his usual flare.

               After both lunch and a tour of the house Virgil sat on the couch curled up in a little ball and holding his stomach. Oddly enough, he hadn’t even eaten that much. He kind of picked a bit at some solid food and ate a bowl of soup. Nothing that would normally upset someone’s stomach. Patton sat down next to him and rubbed his back gently. Virgil loosened up and tensed again.

               “Is your belly giving you trouble again kiddo?” Patton asked softly.

               “No, I’m ok.” Virgil was quick to answer. “I just ate too fast I guess.”

               “Ok then.” Patton continued to pet him.

               Logan walked over and sat down on Patton’s other side. They both shared a parental look.

               “As promised.” Roman strutted in holding a DVD case. “Glorious entertainment. And fair warning, I will sing along with every musical interlude.”

               “How do you manage to remember every Disney song in existence, yet still forget your keys at least twice a week?” Logan teased.

               “Some memories are more important than others.” Roman sat down dramatically.

               “Is that why you’re so good at breaking windows?” Virgil said suddenly. “Lots of practice?”

               They all looked at him stunned, and he mirrored their expressions exactly. Maybe even better. Virgil’s eyes darted back and forth, never settling on any one of them for too long. His breathing got visibly quicker and he tried to shrink into himself.

               Instinctively Patton pulled the boy closer and held him as if he were using his own body as a shield. Virgil sank into him, tense enough to turn into a diamond.

               “Well, then it’s a good thing I forgot my keys all those times.” Roman broke the tension and laughed. “Things work out!”

               “You’re not mad?” Virgil’s voice was muffled by Patton’s hoodie.

               “No, it was a brilliantly timed joke.”

               “And the implications that Roman would have to damage property to get into his own house were amusing.” Logan added, reaching over to pet Virgil as well.

               Virgil jerked back away from Patton and gagged a few times. He clamped his hands over his mouth and slowly took them away. He paused for a solid minute, and they could see him mouthing out numbers. He stopped and looked at the three of them. Then silently leaned back onto Patton’s shoulder.

               “OK.” He said still sounding stunned. “Let’s just watch the movie.”

               Roman did indeed sing along the entire time, and Virgil seemed to enjoy both the movie and Roman’s one man show. Virgil got all quiet during Sally’s song and Patton could have sworn that he heard him sniffle a few times. Naturally, he gently ran a hand through the younger man’s hair to console him.

               During Oogie Boogie’s song Roman jumped up to dance with it, and gingerly pulled Virgil up to join him. Patton and Logan stared in shock as the scene unfolded. There was their son, happily being spun and dipped as Roman did the motions along with the soundtrack. Roman did a great job making sure to keep weight off Virgil’s cast, and when the song ended, gently set him back in his place.

               “Remind me to teach you how to dance when your foot heals.” Roman said joyously.

               “But don’t feet heel all the time?” Patton added.

               Virgil smiled; Logan groaned. And they went back to the movie. Virgil became intensely interested when Sally came in to rescue Santa. He leaned forwards, almost off the couch and chewed his bandages eagerly. Patton saw him mouthing out the words ‘come on, come on’. Then it happened, Oogie Boogie caught on to the rouse.

               “No!” Virgil yelped, this time falling off the couch.

               Virgil sat on the floor looking more embarrassed than hurt. His face slowly shaded itself in a pink glow as he gaped up at them mortified. He cleared his throat and stared at the floor.

               “I…” He started but gave up.

               “She’s gonna be ok.” Patton ruffled his hair. “Jack’s gonna rescue them.”

               “He’d better, he started this whole mess.” Virgil sniped.  

               “See, it isn’t just me!” Logan suddenly shouted. “He sees it too!”

               “Two of them! Now there’s two!” Roman threw his hands in the air.

               “Santa wouldn’t be in this mess if Jack hadn’t kidnapped him and stole his holiday!” Logan protested.

               “They do this a lot.” Patton smiled down at Virgil.

               “He told those three not to involve the boogie man!”

               “Which wouldn’t have even been an option if he hadn’t kidnapped Santa in the first place.”

               “And he really shouldn’t have trusted those three morons.” Virgil added. “I think we can all agree to that.”

               “Yay, common ground!” Patton interrupted. “Let’s just finish the movie.”

               “Patton,” Roman stated. “You’re the tie breaker, what do you think?”

               “I don’t care who’s fault it is! I just want everyone to get along!”

               Virgil disinterestedly slid his upper body into Patton’s lap.

               “Well, you’re definitely a parent.” Roman sighed. “We’ll stop.”

               They finished the movie in silence. As the credits rolled Roman slid off the couch to retrieve another movie from the collection. That brought up a new crop of problems.

               Where to find a Disney movie without abusive parents? He analyzed the collection slowly and picked out all the contenders. Lilo and Stich, perfect. Aladdin? Can’t have abusive parents if you’re an orphan. Mulan, that works. He drummed his finger on Beauty and the Beast, no. better not.

               He pulled out his first three options and strolled back to the others. This was a good enough start.

               “Now for our viewing pleasure, we have options.” He declared. “First contender…”

               He was cut off by a knock on the door.

               “Shoot me.” He finished.

               “I’ll get it.” Patton offered. “It might be Thomas doing another inspection, or here to see Virgil.”

               Virgil slid his head off Patton’s lap and draped himself onto the couch instead.

               “Virgil, don’t sit on the floor.” Logan said stiffly.

               “Let’s see what news stations want to make us mad while he’s gone.” Roman said chipperly, grabbing the remote.

               “It’s just gonna be an artist rendering of me flat on my ass sobbing like a two-year-old.” Virgil hissed, pulling himself onto the couch.

                      Patton glared through the peephole. Barbra had brought them a pie as an excuse to see if this newcomer was weird. Wishing for a garage that they could park in so no one could tell if they were home or not, Patton opened the door.

               “Heyya,” He greeted cheerfully. “What brings you to our neck of the ‘hoods?”

               “Well, I saw you arrive this afternoon with a guest.” She laid it on thick. “So, I thought I’d bring over a pie. Sort of as a welcome to the neighborhood gift.”

               She was moving from side and standing on her toes trying to see past him. Patton sighed, he wanted to like her, but she was so insinuating. And one time he saw her in a restaurant, and she was rude to the waiter. If you want to be mean to minimum wage employees, then you shouldn’t get to benefit off them.

               “That’s so sweet.” Patton continued he didn’t have the heart to be mean to her. “It looks… unique!”

               “It’s a new recipe,” Oh no, now she was into it. “It’s sugar free, gluten free, vegan and non-GMO.”

               “Wow. What flavor?”

               “It’s Brussel sprout pie. You wouldn’t believe how many plants are made with those mutated poisons.”

Ok, well that makes it a casserole. And not a pie.

“Thank you so much.” Patton took the pie.

She didn’t go away. He looked from side to side. He looked at her, she looked at him. Was she really going to do this?

“Is it true about your brother?” She finally asked, she looked annoyed. Did she just expect him to tell her?

“Which part?”

“That he tried to murder his son! Is there any other part?”

“I don’t know about any murder.” Patton said slowly. “But my nephew is staying with us for a while, while everything gets sorted out.”

“Ok, but just be careful, we don’t know who started that fire, it might have been the boy. You know what teenagers are like.”

“Thanks for being on the lookout.” He smiled. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to be going.”

She was about to say something else, but he stepped back quickly and closed the door. He walked past the other three and straight into the kitchen. He then dumped the casserole into the garbage disposal and disintegrated it. Pleased, he strolled back into the living room.

“It was Barbra.” He explained, sitting back on the couch. “She brought us a thing.”

“I see, did you give it a merciful death?”

“Yep.”

“What did I miss?” Virgil looked up at them, hanging upside down on the couch.

“One of our neighbors is quite annoying and nosey. And opinionated.” Roman explained. “We put up with it at first, but then she told us she wished Logan was dead.”

“That’s a blatant lie.” Logan objected.

“It is not, it’s a different point of view.”

“She told you she wanted Uncle Logan dead?” Virgil squeaked, scrambling back to normal sitting position. “Why?”

“She didn’t say that.” Patton rolled his eyes. “She just adamantly believes that vaccines cause autism.”

“And can’t use google.” Virgil agreed. “What’s this got to do with Uncle Logan?”  

“I have Asperger’s syndrome, which puts me on the autistic spectrum.” Logan explained. “Barbra did not tell me she wanted me dead.”

“Let’s pretend that she’s right though,” Roman interrupted. “She’s not, but if she was that would mean that she hates autistic people so much that she would rather have people die of curable illnesses than be that way. In conclusion, she wishes Logan was dead.”

“She doesn’t like Logan though; she acts weird around him.” Patton wrapped himself around Logan like a blanket. “And if you have a problem with my soul mate then you have a problem with me.”

“I hate her already.” Virgil nodded. “Are all your neighbors like that?”

“No, everyone else is cool.” Patton sighed contentedly. “You’ll probably meet them later. But we’ll wait until you’re feeling better.”

“We also need to get you a new wardrobe.” Roman slapped him on the shoulder. “Joan’s donations, while generous, can only do so much for you.”

“And you need underwear, we’re not getting that used.” Patton added.

Virgil turned bright red in response and just gawked at him in utter shame.

“Don’t look like that.” Patton teased. “We all have undies on. It’d be embarrassing if you didn’t.”

Virgil silently cocooned himself into his hoodie.

“What?” Patton, genuinely confused, asked.

“Just stop.” Logan put a hand on his shoulder.

“Right,” Roman added. “We’re watching Lilo and Stich. Virgil needs to understand what we mean when we call Thomas Cobra Bubbles.”  

[hunterenough]

I am Dean.

I am Dean. I’ve identified with the character essentially since the show aired. We’re about the same age, both oldest siblings, and we’ve both had a lot of responsibility thrust on us that we just had to learn to handle. We’ve learned to stuff down what we feel because it’s our job to get shit done, and most of the time, feelings just get in the way. We love deeply, but most people think we’re unfeeling because after 30 odd years of boxing shit up, we’re damned professionals at it.

Right about the time the show started, I’d dropped out of graduate school and was living back at home while I worked up enough cash to find a place of my own. There was very little about my life that I felt was my own, and it was very much like being back in high school. All of the things that I’d learned about myself in the years I was away were erased, and I was very much trying to act like the person everyone thought I still was. I think Dean was the same, that each time he was out on his own, he learned a little more about who he actually was, and that each time they came back together, he had to act like nothing had changed, like he was still the perfect little soldier his dad had raised. I had to act like the quiet book-smart girl my family knew. But we knew, Dean and I, what we were hiding from the world in those moments. For Dean, I think it was a recognition of grey areas, an understanding of what love really could mean, how different his life could be.

I was a lot less successful at hiding it in the long run. I didn’t come out to my family intentionally. My dad happened to come home from work early one day, and found me napping with my then girlfriend. Shit hit the fan, I was essentially kicked out of the house, and wound up living with my girlfriend. I’m really lucky. It was a pretty smooth transition, and my brothers were incredibly supportive. It took nearly a year, but my parents eventually realized that having a queer daughter was not the end of the world, and they’d rather have me in their lives than not. It wasn’t perfect, but I’ll give them every bit of credit for learning to not only accept me, but to show that they had never stopped loving me. My mom even tried to explain that they just didn’t know how to talk to me about it at first. That relationship ended, not well really, but that didn’t matter, life went on.

I met my husband-to-be the same year Dean met Cas. I won’t pretend we danced around starting a relationship like they did, but I think Dean and I had a pretty similar approach. I performed my role as a new girlfriend the way I figured people thought I should. I held hands and we kissed in public. Honestly, that’s not how I’d ever been in a relationship before. I’m not huge on touching in general, less so in public, but nobody had ever seen me in a relationship with a guy, and, after everything, I just didn’t feel like trying to explain myself again.

Performing is exhausting. When I realized that this guy was important, that I really might want him around long term, it felt even more so. Again, I’m lucky because when i started to let my mask slip, this guy fell in love with the real me too. Our relationship settled into a comfortable safe space, and I was happy. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but at the end of the day, he was always there for me.

Dean, I think, had that with Cas. Regardless of their “relationship” status, whether they were best friends or something more, Cas was Dean’s safe place. He was the person that knew all of his weaknesses and flaws and still chose to stand by his side.

Fast forward to season 12. A lot happened in those years, both for Dean and for me. Honestly though, this is where Dean and I found our next huge plot of common ground. In 2017, my husband was diagnosed with cancer. I watched Dean wrap Cas for his funeral pyre while I was sitting in a hospital room next to my husband who was hooked up to IV’s in his arm and a central port in his chest. I completely understood the stoicism of the act. Our practicality and sense of duty serves us well when our world is going to shit. Dean turned to drinking, I learned exactly how to be responsible for my husband’s at home care. I’ll never be able to explain how well I understood exactly what Dean was feeling when he met Billie. I didn’t want to die, but honestly if it was my time, then so be it. I’m not suicidal, never have been, but I didn’t have a lot of fight left in me after I lost my husband.

Now, to the end of Season 15. I think Dean’s characterization after Cas was taken was spot on, but I can say that primarily because nearly all of what we saw was him with others. Remember, we’ve had years of practice stuffing our feelings down, doing what needs to be done, and acting fine.

I held my husband’s hand while he died. I did exactly what I promised him I would and told him I loved him and that everything would be okay. (We’ll get back to how much that part of the finale kicked the shit out of me in a bit.)  

When he was gone, in the living room of our house mind you, because that’s what he wanted, I got shit done. I called his nursing service to report his death, called the funeral home to retrieve his body, and started notifying our friends and family. I smoked a pack of cigarettes and kept my shit together because I knew that if i started to cry, I might never stop. I watched the home nurse and the funeral director prep his body and roll it away, sent his mom home, and when I was finally alone, more alone than I’d been in years, I sat next to his bed and cried until I couldn’t breathe.

By the time my brother showed up a couple hours after I’d called to tell him my husband had passed, I was doing the dishes. It was well after midnight at this point. I’d told him I was good, but...he’s my brother, and he knows me. He came with a bottle of whiskey (another thing Dean and I have in common), and sent me to bed after we’d shared a few shots.

The thing that you don’t know, unless you’ve been through it, is that there is a TON of shit that needs to be done after someone dies. I planned a cremation, a memorial, dealt with insurance companies and our mortgage and all of our joint accounts, and by the time all of that was underway, it was time to go back to work.

When someone you love dies, there is an expectation that you’re going to grieve publically. For me, for Dean, that is unacceptable. If we’re weak, if we lean on someone while we’re dealing with our grief, then we’re letting down the people that depend on us to be strong. Yes, that’s a completely acceptable and normal thing for a good chunk of the population, but that’s not who we are. I can honestly say that moving forward with my life was literally the only thing that kept me going.

So, the final two episodes.

I didn’t question for a second that Dean didn’t talk about Cas’ declaration or his sacrifice. I sure as hell didn’t. I didn’t doubt that he’d make a seamless transition back to casework in the same way I went back to my own job. Having a role to perform that I understood and knowing how to act in specific situations made it so much easier for me to push things down. He had to prove to Sam that he was fine for the same reason that I did, so that the people who love us wouldn’t be watching our every move waiting for us to run screaming off the next cliff. My brother, the same one who showed up with whiskey, did essentially the same thing that Sam did. He didn’t push me to talk. He helped me clean all the medical supplies out of the house, made sure my house and car weren’t going to kill me, and texted me weird random memes daily just so I would text him back.

I also didn’t question the empties in his bedroom or the coat in the trunk. In private moments, when no one is around to see, it’s ok to loosen the relief valve on all of the shit that’s been tightly contained. I slept in my husband’s hoodies and emptied my bar. I understood those things. No one knew about the nightmares, and I ignored the fact that I was drowning in a million memories of my husband every day I spent at home.

To me, those things go hand in hand with losing the person you love most. Regardless of whether or not you think that Dean loves Cas romantically, you can’t argue that Cas was his life partner in a way completely different from Sam. Sam is his responsibility, Cas was his choice. He loves them both, just differently.

Disregarding the revival of an old character for no apparent reason and the fact that it was one of John’s old cases, I didn’t struggle with the handling of the vampire scene in the barn either. I don’t believe that Dean would have ever killed himself intentionally. He would have seen it as his responsibility not only to survive, but to live. Cas just died to save him, again, and there’s no way that Dean is going to let that be for nothing. For me, it was finally going to a Supernatural convention and taking a trip to Paris. For Dean, it was Pie Fest in Akron. They drove fifteen hours for pie. Live, don’t just survive.

He didn’t intentionally throw himself at that hunk of rebar. It was a byproduct of doing his job. But, I think, his reaction to it was the most real thing that could have happened. He didn’t want Sam to call an ambulance or try to save him. He didn’t want Sam to do anything but give him permission to stop fighting. He needed to hear that it was ok.

I’ve never been close to my own death. I don’t have that perspective, but in the year and a half that my husband fought cancer, I was taught to understand this moment as well. When we moved to the palliative stage of my husband’s treatment, the part where medical care is no longer about treating the disease but is now focused on providing comfort, we talked about everything. The thing that scared my husband the most was leaving me behind. He worried about how I would deal with my grief, he worried about me being alone, he worried about how I would manage a sixty hour work week and four pets and a four bedroom house and a two hour round trip commute. He didn’t worry about being dead, he worried about me being alive.

The night my husband died, we all knew it was coming. There are a variety of medical indicators, blood pressure changes, muscle changes, and most critically, at the very end, the fucking death rattle. I cannot explain this sound, I hope you never hear it, but you’ll know if you do. So, at the very end, when my husband was fighting for every breath, I held his hand, and I told him I loved him and I told him that everything would be ok. It was my way of telling him that he didn’t have to fight for me anymore, that I would be ok without him. It didn’t have to be true, but he had to hear it. I couldn’t let him die with all of that worry and guilt swirling around in his head.

Hearing Dean ask Sam to tell him it was ok hit me so fucking hard. For me, it was the clearest declaration of his love for Cas that he could have given. He literally looked at his brother, who he has sacrificed his life for in a myriad of ways, and asked for permission not to fight anymore.

Sam did the same thing for Dean that I did for my husband. He recognized that Dean would hold on as long as he could just to make sure that his little brother would be ok once he was gone. He knew Dean was miserable and suffering, so he held Dean’s hand, told him he loved him, and that it was ok. It didn’t have to be true, he just had to say it.

To be honest, I didn’t have a problem with Bobby being the one to welcome Dean to heaven. In fact, I think he was a great choice, regardless of whether or not it was a Covid related decision on the writer’s part. Bobby was his dad, someone he trusted, and was the logical person to let Dean know that Jack had revamped heaven before sending Dean out to do what he had to do to find his peace. I didn’t expect an emotional scene, it would have been out of character for both of them.

I didn’t have a problem with Dean climbing into Baby and just driving. Two years after losing my husband and I still do the same thing when the shit in my brain is moving too fast for me to deal. Baby is home to him, a place he feels comfortable and in control, and driving is the best way he knows to find some perspective.

I didn’t have a problem with the montage of Sam’s life. I thought it was terribly constructed, but the content of it was predictable. Sam stayed true to character and did what he asked of Dean before hopping into the pit. He went out and made himself an apple pie life. I would have been surprised and disappointed if it was anything different.

The thing that made me hate the finale was the end. When Dean turned around on that bridge, what we should have heard was “Hello Dean.” That hug should have been Dean and Cas. Regardless of whether or not you think they shared romantic love, Cas was family, name on the table and all. I didn’t need a love confession, I didn’t need a kiss, I didn’t need some grand romantic moment. I just needed that thank-Jack-you’re-not-stuck-in-uber-hell hug like the one Benny watched in purgatory or that Mary saw after the soul bomb. Dean’s been in heaven for a bit, long enough that Sam could have witnessed this one from the passenger seat with a grin.

There’s no way Dean would have found peace without seeing for himself that Cas was safe, and you’ll never convince me otherwise.

[gvaf-radio-blog]

I was laying in bed trying to not think about the rejection when the crying fit started, normally it goes away after a bit but this welled up and I felt an emotion like onto a rage induced tornado surging through me and I pounded the floor screaming like I lost a limb to a bear trap and started to pray to God, keep in mind I am a Satanist, to either help me find a way to get the love of my life back or to give me the means to end my life.  Satan was very understanding but reminded me to call them first next time since Satan never told me I was damned for being born pansexual and they did turn me on to better fashion and literature, sorry Satan.

It had been going on like this for the better part of July and there were several things going on in my life at the time one of those was a firm belief that I had grown too old, too fat, too broken to be any use to anyone other than to make others feel better and be target practice for the Russian Cupidi who seems very intent on making others fall in love with me on the other side of the continent, little fuckers have surprisingly deep laughs I found out . There was a person I was convinced was the love of my life because they seemed to understand me, never made unreasonable demands of me ( I thought)  and to put it simply we could not be in a room alone ever. We worked well together in fact each time we would meet it ended in us kissing and tearfully saying I love you to each other  while holding each other head to head crying. Everytime I heard a slight Russian tinged laugh. We were for a short time had an almost family, an almost family is where things are just off and need adjustments. I wanted tp make us a full family badly I wanted this family to happen because these kids were at one time treated like mine own, I am a  simple and boring man except for the Cupidi and a stalker with cat ears who keeps leaving dead birds on my front stoop.  

So yes I was that fool everyone has laughed at in a heart break fueled misery that pop songs and movies lie to us and say “ AH but tis only the third act! The two distant lovers will be reunited and the love song with start after the credits”. I want to start rounding up the con artist that make a living by filling empty headed children with these notions of true love or that love conquers all and sodomize them with live lobsters.  I don’t want to violate ethically challenged people with shellfish everyday, just on those days when I have to deal with the doll eyed masses, ok so basically every day I was trying to give myself the benefit of the doubt.  The Ex had asked me if the reason I wanted to get back together was because they were a “sure thing” I told her that they were really a long shot but if I didn’t try then I couldn’t live with myself. Fast forward a few weeks and several insulting explanations later and I am now turning over all the reasons I am broken goods and that I should not rise above my station because I deserve to be alone, i’m scum, I’m why baby jesus cries and milk spoils when I walk into the room. I started taking pot shots at the local Cupidi with my compound bow but it was hard to aim with eyes full of tears and the edible kicking in finally. I don’t know how to say fuck you in Russian but I think I know the sound of the word. 

Next we find me red eyed muttering some gibberish that’s been fueled by what I would find out later to be a suspected mental illness that is only half way being treated with medication and therapy. To give you a funny and disturbing visual. After not eating or sleeping for several days  I looked like what could be described as a  cross between a fat Reinfeld and a goth George Costanza , or Meatloaf on a bad day. I give you options for your visuals, am I not merciful?

It’s now sometime between one and five A.M and I am looking up the price of the least expensive .45 handgun because I’m poor and I’ll be getting some extra money soon because I turn thirty nine in a week I do not want to be thirty nine so I start looking for american style solutions, happy fucking birthday. I chose this caliber because having some medical training and studying the wonderful world of trauma  I got to see in full detail what a self inflicted head wound looks like and what a person's life is when the bullet doesn’t take enough grey matter. I didn’t want to be alive then I sure as hell didn’t want to live as a joke character from a Garth Ennis story so I was going to get a bigger bullet .  America, fuck yeah.

so I started to make my final birthday plan and feel at peace with having my last ride of Clove’s, bourbon and a good pub hamburger then, Tchüess. BANG! Obviously I didn’t buy the gun to end my misery and embarrassment as my brain was telling me I needed, because instead my brain going into OH FUCK mode was throwing everything it had at me to save the ship. Then it hit pay dirt. I rediscovered a natural emotional energy that put my mind into a laser focus clearing the fog and lies away  just enough to stop my self destruction and restart the rebuilding I began in the winter. The emotional energy that saved me from turning my head into goo goes by the name of pure fucking spite.

I realized that my idiocy levels had reached a critical mass when the Cupidi in hazmat suits who seem to be , in Russian , bitching about extracting me to go get recharged . They came down to take me back to a containment unit that will refill my cynicism back to optimal and lethal fuck off capacity. After my IV of coffee and Monster™ grape was removed I was set loose again into the wilds of Southeast Portland to reconnect my brain with seething hatred that I somehow misplaced my hatred during the heartache attack between Southeast Division and Southeast Clinton street where I  was bludgeoned with a baseball bat by the woman who was wearing cat ears. I was on a time limit because I had to do this quickly and retract my steps before my appointment with a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner at two P.M later that day. I managed to find my hatred , my senses and a new found desire to attack any human with those fucking anime cat ears on their head and entered the office and was treated like a human being not a Cro Magnon sociopath who might try  to kill people on the train, it was a nice change of pace honestly.

We talked about my past trauma and some of the diagnosis that where off base and some that came close to the mark but the main thing we talked about was the depression, the depression that had me looking for a gun as a treatment plan. This Nurse Practitioner pinpointed everything that I had to hide from others or train myself not to do in less than thirty minutes, Let me give you a bit of perspective. 

Most of the mental health professionals I worked with in the past used a method I call flow chart counseling, example:

Therapist sees me walk into the door, therapist will ask if I drink if yes how many drinks in a week, if no move on to the next question. Therapist: Mister Cromag do you drink?

Me: yeah, I like a good beer, or wine I take a shinning to good bourbons as well.

“Therapist now flows to follow up questions”

Therapist: How many drinks per week?

Me: Well, I like to have a drink that pairs with my dinner and some weekends I’ll have a bit more during games or socialization depending on who’s around.

“Therapist now moves down to alcoholism”

Therapist: how long have you been an alcoholic?

Me: I’m sorry what?

Therapist: You binge drink Mister Cromag, more than four drinks per week means substance abuse.

Me: No it means I like the taste of a stout. “Moves down the chart to denial”

Therapist: We need to find you an addiction specialist.

Me: You think my drinking is bad, wait until I tell you about my porn collection.

After that exchange I was referred to a physical therapist to help with carpal tunnel and after a traumatized therapist had to call security all while frantically  trying to find a flowchart for the psychotically horny they made a suggestion about me having an Oedipus complex.

So you now see what I mean, a lot of professionals never got to the heart of it and there are other stories where I’ve had the professionals all but sneer at me when my symptoms are presented. So this Nurse Practitioner was a nice change of pace and with the discussion about my issues, what I thought I might have been dealing with  (sometimes people see that I do have some form of intelligence and not just hit thing with club real hard unga bunga) we then worked out what medication I needed to treat  the thing I was dreading, being diagnosed with  Bipolar 1.

Bipolar and ADHD share many of the same characteristics and as I’ve learned if you have one the other is more than likely there it just needs to be screened for. Bipolar is also a hereditary form of mental illness which makes it a bit unique where others are mostly trauma induced but Bipolar just kinda waits for something to happen and when nothing does it creates its own fun. To add to this good time Bipolar  is classified as a “mood disorder”  your highs are hyperactive boarderlining and often going into a full true manic state of mind and body, not nearly as fun as it sounds. Then the lows are soul crushing affairs that amplify the depression and then takes the lies you brain tells you and creates a story based on people around you, your fears, past trauma and then makes you this poisoned lullaby cake that tastes like candy feels like medicine until you fall to your knees paralyzed and the fangs sink into your back and you see too late what is having you for dinner tonight.

So that’s a quick and blurry on Bipolar 2, I have Bipolar 1 which means I get all of that plus the added fun of hallucinations, and not the type Terrence Mckenna taught us about. These are things that just manifest as if they are real life like if you were in a  film and it was edited without  warning and in this new situation  you now have to improvise a reality, any  reality, this is why I take *drugs prescribed and other. The other issue is that it feels like my memories get remixed and things that happened now have a new twist, a paranoid hurtful twist.  Good example of this is when I was making a terminal wishlist and believed that there were people who truly wanted me to die because I interpreted their actions as malicious. Another example is I was walking home to the apartments  around ten or twelve years ago, I was walking home at the time with groceries and when I got through the front door there was construction going on at the apartment above me. I sleep days and at best i’ll get four hours due to shit employer, new born child, a girlfriend that was Sybil the next generation who completely refused to get treatment because she was a psych major and thought she was the heroin to overcome all odds  in a lifetime movie.  So on top of this my mental illness is not in check, no insurance and if I mention medication at work I could get fired. 

 I wish this was a part I made up  but I mentioned I was on antidepressants at one time and they removed me from two positions back to entry level until I got clean off celexa, Not allowed to do the fun drugs and then punished for using the boring ones no idea why I stayed there for eight and a half years. 

Back to the construction, I get home try to put my groceries away and one of the workers says he needs to do something in the bedroom I tell him to get bent , he calls me a fat fuck and I proceed to beat him bloody! Except it never happened, I woke up beating my fist bloody onto the tiled floor of the kitchen where I had started to put away my groceries until I jumped into this other reality, I’m just happy the kid wasn’t home because it might have scared her and made her cry and knowing I made her cry hurts the worst, I would have attempted that second suicide earlier. This freaked me out I’ve never had an hallucination like this I was scared, when I told then girlfriend hoping to get support or at least pointed in the direction on where to look she labeled me a schitzophrentic started talking to me as if I was going to flip out  and that I was even more dangerous.  I let that turn around in my head for years thinking that this was the linchpin to me being broken and with the way she talked to me I believed I didn’t deserve help. This was one of the main reasons I had to kill myself after she took my daughter away.

Like a few million other miserable , confused people out there I didn’t know a blessed thing about what was happening, I remembered the mental abuse and emotional abuse from the church, and some had argued physical and neglectful abuse I recieved at the hands of my family or my mother’s husbands who told my mother to no provide for me but instead buy him a new toy car. My step sister who somehow hates the knot headed reprobate more than I do stole his precious camaro and rear ended a Semi. After learning she was ok I fell on the floor laughing because all I could think about was this NASCAR addicted stunted man child calling his mommy to whine about a broken toy, to add to this mental image he was wearing a blue jean diaper and clutching a plush Richard Petty teddy bear.

There’s more but I don’t feel the need to talk about school bus drivers and me losing memory of one full  year of my life, bullying at the hands of adults and children alike. I feel like that would be redundant and unfortunately all too common a story I’ve heard from so many people in my life, friends, lovers , coworkers the fucking homeless people who talk with me after I give them beer money. Leaving some of the genetic issues aside you bastards need to understand how wide spread some of these traumas are for fuck sake my motley of misfits are all walking trauma case studies and instead of getting help YOU people ridiculed them, or gave them the greatest useless sentence in the english language which is :

 “Just get over it.”

Do you know what I would like to see? I want to see all of us survivors roaming the streets like that piss poor movie they claimed was a horror movie the Purge and with a list not unlike the list owned by the man that comes around Johnny Cash sang about during his song of the rapture, and I see men, women, and nonbinary people going to the address of those passive aggressive twits and beating them within an inch of their life, then carving into their chest (backwards) “get over it” then we move on to the homes of the rapists and tell them “you asked for this” before destroying their cocks with battery acid. The screams in the night would be glorious with the bats acting like percussion and the screams keyboard swells it would be like Front 242 unplugged. Maybe then the sniveling pretentious nra members out there will learn a bit. At best, it would be fair warning not to be passive aggressive asshole and learn a bit of compassion and mindfulness or to just get their heads out of their ass about battles they know nothing about if they want to avoid severe head trauma that one can not just simply get over. 

Living with mental illness is not easy at any level whether a small bit of depression after a breakup or full blown PTSD after a brutal rape that leaves one unable to leave their house. Whomever has these afflictions are the ones suffering and your feelings of inconvenience or fear  of those sufferers need to be thrown into the Willamette river, I would say you need to follow suit  but there’s enough garbage in this river you can fuck off into a trash compactor.

Living is the hardest thing I do but I keep finding ways to stop the thoughts from taking over and I will and have done whatever it took to not die and sometimes the only way I was able to beat the mental illness was being bat shit insane. Some people think I’m a drug addict, others just think I need to talk to my old invisible friend, a few well meaning souls have suggested psychedelics and these people are pure and I will castrate any who try and stop them from their holy work from the almighty Bob. what I do need is to find that bitch with the **baseball bat and introduce them to a proper bonfire that I’m going to roast one of those little commie Cupidi on, oh yes I want my revenge for St Louis. 

*the drugs in question are cannabis for the most part, when I’m spinning hard it helps tune me down and when the depression hits it shuts up the thoughts that plague me. Not a cure all nor is it a replacement for proper medication and therapy. I like to think of it a supplemental medicine that has the added effect of making Tool sound even more epic and letting me sleep peacefully. 

** all wildy violent, funny and or cartoonish descriptions written about are there to be funny and entertaining no Cupidi do not exist and the Cat ear person does but the assault was less bloody and didn’t involve a bat  but it was far more traumatizing.

[sholiofic]

Powerfist. Hospital Au :D

Night ER shifts were the worst. It was either incredibly boring (though Danny kind of enjoyed the opportunity to chat with patients and brighten up their night a little bit), or it was very exciting, but not in the good way.

Tonight was one of the exciting nights: multiple car accidents, a couple of overdoses, a gang clash that ended with six people injured. Danny was grabbing a moment to have a cup of coffee and a sandwich when Claire stuck her head into the break room. “Hey, we just got word on inbound casualties from a shootout in Hell’s Kitchen.”

Danny blew out his breath and put the mostly-uneaten sandwich back in the employee fridge. “Some nights, huh?”

“Must be a full moon,” Claire agreed. Danny looked baffled. “Oh, you know, full moon? Superstition that lots of crazy things – you know what, never mind. Sometimes I think you must have been raised in a monastery.”

Private tutors, college at 16, he could have said – but didn’t, because he hated the feeling he got (the looks he got) when people found out what his upbringing had been like. He knew that he’d had a lot of advantages in life; he knew how lucky he was to have graduated from medical school with no debt in his early 20s, moving on to a residency at a metro hospital he had carefully selected so his mother wasn’t on the board of directors.

But it also meant he’d missed out on a lot. His social life hadn’t been exactly … normal. His parents had been politely supportive of his life choices (at least he didn’t have to deal with the kind of crushing parental expectations that both Joy and Ward did) but he also knew that they hoped he would change his mind and come back to run the company eventually. Neither of them could understand why he would rather spend his days dealing with sick people, covered in blood and much more unpleasant bodily fluids, when he could have been sitting in a corner office at Rand.

Danny tossed down the last gulp of stale coffee and went back out to the ER.

The influx of casualties had just come in, blood turning police uniforms and casual clothes the same dark red; a reminder that when they came through those doors on those gurneys, it didn’t matter who they were or what they’d done five minutes ago – the struggle to save lives was what mattered.

Danny wasn’t even sure if the guy on the gurney in front of him was cop or con. In a bad way, was what he was; barely breathing, and Danny couldn’t even tell how he was still breathing with the clear evidence of his blood-sodden, bullet-holed clothing that he’d taken a couple of rounds point blank to the chest. The nurses were all busy, so Danny reached for the kit himself, preparing to get the IV catheter in place, when the man’s eyes came open and his hand shot out and grabbed Danny’s arm.

“Kid,” he whispered. “Hey, kid. Can you push this gurney around the corner?”

“Calm down,” Danny told him, pushing up his sleeve to find a puncture site, and added, “I’m a doctor,” because he’d realized that he had probably been mistaken for an intern or a nurse – it happened a lot; he was not only young for a resident, but baby-faced on top of it. “Just settle down; you’re going to be okay. What’s your name?”

“It’s Luke, and listen, I really need you to push me around the corner.”

Danny tried unsuccessfully to free himself from the grip on his arm; this guy had a grip like iron. “No, I really don’t need to do that. You’ve been shot.”

“Listen, I need privacy for a minute. Please.”

“I don’t care what you need to do, trust me, we’ve seen it all here –” He was having trouble finding a vein. He should probably have just gotten Claire.

Luke’s dark eyes searched his face. “Kid. Please.”

The thing about Danny – the thing that made him the most popular doctor in the entire hospital with the patients, and put him in a sort of ongoing love-hate relationship with the nurses – was that he’d always had trouble saying no to anyone who genuinely needed something. It was the whole reason he’d wanted to be a doctor in the first place. “Okay, I’ll do it, if you’ll hold still and let me get an IV in you.”

He shoved the gurney around the corner, into a hallway out of sight of the main ER. A harried nurse hurried past pushing a crash cart, but no one was paying attention to either of them.

“Thanks,” Luke said, heartfelt, and he sat up and started pulling off the monitoring electrodes stuck on him.

“Hey! No! Wait!” Danny tried ineffectually to push him back down. “You’ve been shot –”

But he was starting to realize that something was clearly not right here. The guy had been shot. The evidence of the bullet holes in his hoodie said so. The hoodie which he was currently stripping off, smoothly and efficiently and not at all like someone who’d just taken several rounds to the chest.

His chest was – amazing. For several reasons, but one reason was that it didn’t have a scratch on it despite the fact that Danny could see light through the bullet holes in the hoodie as Luke stripped it off over his head.

“What the hell,” Danny said in spite of himself, and he reached out to touch Luke’s chest, only jerking his hand back when Luke gave him a look. “I’m a doctor,” he defended himself, blushing. “I’m only trying to – listen – what the hell, man? Where’d all the blood come from?”

“The blood’s not mine,” Luke said, and Danny looked at him in disbelief. “Okay, just listen. I’m an undercover cop. I know this all looks weird, but I need something clean to change into. You don’t have to help; I know you’re busy. Just point me at a supply closet.”

He swung his legs off the gurney and then sat there for a minute, breathing hard.

“Okay, you are hurt,” Danny said, moving quickly to support him. “Look, there could be internal trauma, concussion injuries – you need to –”

“What I need,” Luke said, taking a deep breath, “is to change into something I can walk out of this hospital in, without looking like a gunshot victim.”

“You are a gunshot victim!” But it was clear Danny wasn’t going to win this argument. “Okay, look, I can get you clean scrubs, or – no, we’ve got a bunch of stuff in the Lost & Found, I bet you can find something that’ll fit you there. C'mon this way.”

A few minutes later, Danny was swiping his card to unlock an employee side entrance. Luke was moving better, looking better, and Danny was starting to think he was just misreading the whole situation … except, while Luke was digging through clothes in the Lost & Found, Danny had looked at the tip of the insertion needle for the IV and found that it was bent, like someone had slammed it into a steel plate.

And maybe it was a defective one, but …

Something was weird here. He wanted to know what.

“So you’re a cop?” he said. “A bulletproof cop? That sounds awesome.”

“It’s complicated.” Luke grimaced. “I shouldn’t even have told you that much, uh –” He glanced at Danny’s name tag. “Danny. Trust me, you don’t want to be mixed up in what I’m mixed up in.”

But maybe I want to be. Nobody had ever accused Danny of taking the easy, reasonable path through life. “Look, if I wanted to get in touch with you, how would I do that? To follow up,” he added quickly. “On your injuries.”

“I don’t have any –”

“Listen, I’m a medical professional, and your breathing didn’t sound great for awhile there. Even if you can survive being shot, you can still get internal concussion trauma. Just put my mind at ease and give me a way to make sure you don’t go home tonight and suffocate.”

Luke huffed out a sigh, then rolled his eyes and grinned. Apparently Danny wasn’t the only one who had trouble saying no to people. “Look me up at the 29th Precinct,” he said, and was gone out the door, into the night.

[nszypher]

Then It Got Better

I wrote up a bit of an emotional piece going over the timeline of my last couple of weeks involving my top surgery. It’s long, and I don’t expect most to read it, but I thought I would share all the same.

Tuesday, we drove down to Dallas. It was a half day affair. Mom went to work until just after noon so she could try and get them into a better place before leaving for just over a week. It gave me a chance to finish up anything I needed to do at the house before we left. We gassed up the car and then stopped for lunch before heading out of town. We accidentally ordered grilled chicken when we wanted breaded, and apologized as soon as we realized the mistake and asked if there was any way they could swap them out. They just gave us new breaded chicken. We both felt a bit bad but I did actually pay more for the grilled stuff. We drove through small towns, talking some and listening to a podcast mostly. The weather was nice. Our hotel was experiencing a problem with its keymaker, which meant that we were stood outside our door with half of our bags trying to get in, or waiting for a new key. The front desk person finally just let us in with her master key and promised she would have one working when we got back from dinner. We told her it was no problem, that it wasn't her fault, and went to dinner at the Magic Time Machine. We were served by a guy dressed up and acting like Nacho Libre, a movie I've never seen but do know a little about. Mom discovered she was allergic to Mahi Mahi, but otherwise, the meal was great and we did have a working key when we got back to the hotel, which was good because we also decided to stop by Walmart and pick things up before going back to the hotel.

Wednesday was the pre-op appointment. As uncomfortable as I was about things, and they were all things I knew was coming, they made it as nice and painless as possible. The surgeon, Dr. Dulin, was very professional, explained things very well and what they were going to do and why. He did have to touch my chest, and measure to see for sure what he was really working with since he had only seen pictures up to now. But he did with respect, I could tell, and it was over quickly. He even recognized that I would need a nipple reduction, something I had wondered about and was going to ask, but didn't have the chance. He already decided before I could. The nurse, Kristin, took before photos, asked me all about my medical history, which made me glad mom was there, and even gave us a very informative booklet with almost every bit of information we could possibly need about the procedure and what to expect before and after as well as risks and anything else. Dr. Dulin was nice and Kristin was nicer. And then they sent me off with prescriptions, telling me to make sure I walked away with four and that they'd be in touch to tell me, for sure, when I needed to be there in the morning. We went to Walmart to fill the prescriptions and waited so long for them to get filled. And then it was left overs from the Magic Time Machine for lunch and off to malls, on the way to which we got the call telling us to be there at 7:30 in the morning. We were enchanted by Northpark, a fusion of mall and museum, and fell in love with the Lego and Disney stores there. We are still, after all, just children. We got dad a Lego Batman keychain as thanks for watching all my animals while we were away. A Barnes and Noble across the way distracted us but we did end up at Galleria mall, which was also nice but not as cool. Dinner was at the Rodeo Goat and after that, it was home to try and get some rest before the big day, but not before a call from the anesthetist just to introduce herself to me and make sure I was feeling as good about it all as I could.

Thursday was the day.

They told me that would be the worst day. In many ways, it was. I didn't sleep well the night before, I got up entirely too early, I was very nervous, possibly for the first time really for this. They had a hard time getting an IV in me, and it was wholly unpleasant the two times they tried, the first blowing out a vein. Not their fault. I have finicky veins. And then I woke up and that was the worst. I couldn't see well for a while, and got very nauseous suddenly, which the care nurse was quick to take care of. I didn't catch her name, but I'm glad she was there. They waited to call my mom to pick me up until I felt better after that. It fortunately passed quickly but I was still miserable Of course I wasn't happy right after. I was in pain, I felt terrible. I wanted to curl up and go home and sleep and I was instead put in a car and our five minute drive back to the hotel turned into fifteen because mom got lost and I couldn't help her. But I did remember all the instructions they gave us, occasionally better than mom, and the shining light is they didn't know what my preferred pronouns were in the recovery room, so when they talked to my mom, they referred to me either as Kai, which everyone at the clinic had done, or "they/them" since those were neutral. The fact that even they cared in the recovery room, nurses I would only ever see once, meant a lot. And the rest of the day was filled with pills and Gatorade and uncomfortable shifting and not moving and even more sleeping than I'm used to. Mom bought ice packs while I was in surgery and made a point to go back to the hotel and get them frozen and ready for me in such a thoughtful measure only to be told don't use them. I think she thought it was forever, but looking back, I think they just meant that night. Not that it mattered. I don't know there was much that would've really made me feel any more comfortable or okay.

But then it got better.

Friday I went back for my first post-op. They asked how I was doing and remarked that I looked surprisingly well. I credit the Gatorade. They took me and removed the ace bandages they had wrapped around and on top of everything. And suddenly, I wasn't in so much pain or discomfort. I didn't realize that something so minor could make such a big difference. Kristin gave us maxi pads to help keep the binder from cutting into my skin, and showed mom how to cut little crescents out of them so they would fit around my arms. Kristin also loaned mom a pair of scissors to cut the pads with since all we had were tiny ones, like one on a pocket knife, and an extra binder when she heard we were in a hotel and didn't really have easy access to a washing machine or drier. I still only could manage to eat apple sauce and broth, a little cereal dispersed throughout, still fell asleep several times, still only had the brain space for Netflix movies. Mom and I got up ever few hours and walked the hallway on our floor. Mom even started writing down the pill schedule, when I took one and could take the next, since they had time restraints and had to be taken so long between each. She's much more organized than I often am.

And then it got better.

Saturday was a nice day, and we decided to walk around our hotel outside a couple of times. It was so nice to get out of the building and breathe some fresh air. I ate something more than just applesauce and cereal. I played video games until evening time, when we went back to Netflix. I was feeling pretty good. Still a little painful, but overall pretty good. Still couldn't do a lot for myself, but things weren't so bad anymore.

And then it got better.

Sunday we went to Target. Mom needed some things like a new bar of soap because hers had run out. She also wanted to get a CD. I wanted to get out of the hotel, even if it was only for ten minutes. We got our stuff and both agreed we didn't want to go back just yet. Getting out of the hotel was uplifting. We both were getting a bit stir crazy. So we slowly walked around the Target. She found a set of plush Porg and Porglets, and we both fell in love and she bought us both a set. Mom had never seen Moana and it was no longer on Netflix, so I bought the Blu-Ray. I found card sleeves I had wanted before Christmas but that were no longer sold in our Targets and got a set. We spent an hour or so in Target, and went we left, I bought us both coconut Bais to drink just to change it up. Later, when I realized my period had started, we walked to an Alberston's that was just around the corner, stopping in at the GameStop first. We got what I needed along with some new drinks to change it up as well.

And then it got better.

Monday, we hit a few malls. I don't remember which ones they were. They didn't make as big of an impact on my mind as the ones we went to before the surgery, but we went to a few. Mom and I, for the first time in a long time, moved at about the same speed, and had to stop just about as frequently to rest. We took my pills with me in case we needed to do any of them while we were out, but strategically waited until after lunch so we hopefully wouldn't have to. We stopped by the Half Price Books flagship store, which was massive, and spent hours in there just looking at the stuff. I bought an Italian soda, my first one ever, and it was really good. We spent too much money there, but I found something I've always wanted at a price I could actually afford. Mom was also on the hunt for a new purse, so after the bookstore, we made one last stop to a JC Penney, which to our surprise, was a stand-alone store and not part of a mall. And she found a purse that was just perfect and on sale for a price she didn't feel bad about paying for.

And then it got better.

Tuesday, we went to the zoo. It was always something I had wanted to do in Dallas ever since my first A-Kon down there when we rode past the exit for it on the tram at least twice a day. The zoo was so nice. The weather was perfect. We didn't even need jackets. In the children's zoo, there was an aviary where you could go in and interact with some birds. You could feed them stuff on a stick for a price but mom and I agreed we didn't need to do that. Still, as soon as we came in, one flew down and landed on my hand and just hung out with me for a while, almost as if he was happy I wasn't a screaming kid. They had so many cool exhibits, and their enclosures looked so nice. They even had one place where you could feed giraffes. Even if you weren't, you were allowed to go in and get right up next to them. I could've reached out and touched one. It was amazing. I've never seen anything like that. I've never experienced that with a giraffe before. We were so enamored with it that we missed the last part of the zoo, which was a bit sad because I would've liked to see the baby gorilla and lions, but the giraffe experience was something new. We stopped back by Half Price Books because a friend wanted something that I had gotten, promising to pay me back. Luckily, they did still have one for her too. For dinner, I was sick of the food we had in the hotel so I treated mom and I to the messiest crab legs I think I've ever eaten. It was a bit pricey, but she's worth it.

And then it got better.

Friday was my second post op appointment and the one where I would get to see, for the first time, the results and look at my future. We checked out of the hotel before going, and everyone was happy to see me. Dr. Dulin had, after doing all the things in the operating room, adhered foam onto my chest, then put a binder over it, and for 24 hours, wrapped that in an ace bandage. No wonder that first day was so miserable. And pulling the foam off was also miserable. I couldn't watch. I could barely even breathe. They did it as fast as they could, and mom said Dr. Dulin smiled when he saw the results of his work. And I smiled and uttered words of disbelief when I did too, which made him smile even more. He was pleased with the result, which is good since he is a perfectionist by everyone's account, and I was beyond words. I was seeing, for the first time, my body as I always thought it should be, albeit bruised and swollen and with a bit of marker still from the surgery so he did it all correctly. Kristin smiled with us, talked with us about this and that, our cat, the zoo, while also giving us all the supplies she thought we would need to at least get us through the next few days. Adhesive remover, tape, gauze. She loaded us up. We made plans for me to send photos in a month to check progress so I wouldn't have to try and make it back down to Dallas. And then we were out the door, checked out of the hotel and going to head back to normal life. We stopped back by Northpark because I wanted a keychain from the Lego store, and we decided to eat lunch there as well. We also attempted to find a compression shirt because Kristin told us we could use that instead of the binder if we found one that was snug enough. We couldn't. But we tried. We made one last stop by the Disney store where they were having a crazy sale on their plushies, so I bought a Koda and mom bought a Pua. Lego store trip then netted me a keychain, but I also bought mom one more thing as a huge thanks for being my rock this week. I couldn't have done it without her.

And then it got better.

I've been home for a few days now. Things are returning to normal. I've finished my course of antibiotics, dad acknowledged the letter I wrote and left for him. It might be the only discussion we have about it, but at least we had it. My pain is so much less now. I can drive and be mostly independent again. I think the swelling is going down. Surely. It's hard to tell for sure, but I already like what I see in the mirror better than what was there before, lingering bruises, marks, bits of foam, and swelling aside. I cannot accurately describe how different and happy I feel now that it's over. Over a year of planning, and half a life time of wanting, and it feels like it came and went so fast and yet, there's a whole future ahead now that looks a bit brighter than before. I know this won't fix all my problems. Dark days are still ahead, but at least I won't also hate myself on top of them. I'm not saying I wanted more fanfare. Really, that seems terrible, but for all the build up and wanting, it's hard to believe it's over. I had been focused on it for so long that I feel just a little empty now. Just a little. There's still so much more to do and see. And I'm ready for them just as soon as I'm done physically healing. But emotionally, and mentally, I've already done so much over the past few weeks. It's done, and I'm still happy to the point of tears about it.

[tumblunni]

Oh fuck i cant stand this

Ive already almost used up my damn mobile data again and i only bought it yesterday. Fuck i want to go home. You guys are like the only comfort i have here and i dunno what im gonna do when i cant message you again

Fuckin hell stupid shit day! I was supposed to go to a therapy class thing today but the stupid bus went past where my abusive father lives and i had a MASSIVE FREAKOUT and had to go home and then ofcourse to go home you have to go back on the stupid same bus!! I fuckib failed and wasted the doctor's time and he had to grab me to stop me from running off the bus crying and back to fuckin hell dad's house because im shit and i deserve everything he ever did to me

AND THEN fuckin same doctor continues the relentless constant tide of everyone misgendering me and making crass transphobic jokes

"You see you've gotta understand the other opinion" he says, as if trans people werent fuckin raised SURROUNDED by cis people's predjudiced opinion of us and taught it was fact. As if it didnt take me SO MUCH WORK to even become confident enough to stand up for myself! I've gotta see the 'other opinion' that "yknow well families and children use public bathrooms and theyre scared trans people will molest their children so its understandable they want to kick you out or even act violent to you". Yknow the OTHER OPINION that MY OPINION DOESNT MATTER and also MY ENTIRE EXISTANCE IS A CRIME but i'm the one being predjudiced for not accepting that OPINION, right?! Im here trying to tell him that no that isnt rational because there have been LITERALLY NO RECORDED CASES of trans people molesting children in public bathrooms, or even "evil men faking being trans" to do the same thing. There's been more cases of actual cis men breaking into women's bathrooms to drag women out for merely LOOKING trans. More cis women have been harassed because of anti trans laws than they ever did before! But hey "respect that other opinion", right? And also "at least its not as bad as russia" and "but gay pride is everywhere now, that one footballer had rainbow shoelaces." Hey wow i never noticed that not only was homophobia totally over but also transphobia was remotely related to that! Wow! I seriously had to bring out the fuckin 1600s historical investigation on pre-british olde englishe that showed the existance of a gender neutral pronoun before the word "he" ever existed, and the existance of transgender pride and pronoun discussions in the 1800s before the word transgender was even popularized. I cant believe i fuckin had to do a 'show your sources that queer people existed before the internet' IN REAL LIFE. WITH A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL. I can point at the damn NHS website but nooooo!

Oh and yknow what got me the most? YKNOW WHAT GOT ME THE MOST?? "We have sick people here, you cant expect them to remember stuff like that. Dont ruin their recovery by bringing up stuff like that." Like..fuckin..IM A FUCKIN PATIENT TOO. I wasnt even asking the other patients to stop hurting me i was asking you the staff to maybe consider it! And seriously you want me to be so super ultra perpetually prepared and perpetually rational and able to keep my existance secret and out of every conversation yet theyre too ill to learn about lgbt people existing? Just a sentence would be too painful? And me living every day being misgendered doesnt impact my ability to recover at all, eh? Fuckin shitting fuck hell.

And i hate it i HATE IT because he's being nice so i'll be the bad guy if i complain. Likehe fuckin..doesnt even know he's being rude and doesnt want to consider the idea. He says 'i dont like your tone' if i suggest the concept and FUCK in that moment i was so fuckin scared he was gonna hit me like my dad did. Or at tge very least kick me out of the hospital if i dont cooperate with him. He just fuckin..thinks he's perfectly unbiased and accepts everyone and "oh but i like to make fun of everyone equally". And i even fuckin raised the subject that people who say that often only make fun of minorities and never themselves, the majority, or major power structures. And he's just like 'yeah yeh i hate people like that'. Whoosh. Rigjt over the head. God i wasnt even TRYING to be passive aggressive i was trying tk outright tell him why what he said was upsetting me but NOPE. Trying to explain how its just so hard and tiring to have to verrrrrry patientlyyyyy explain yourself to EVERYONE EVERY DAY CONSTANTLY while they sling loads of rude words at you and it should be just allowed because they 'dont know better'. Like you ask me to educate you but at the same time im rude if i actually tell you?? And god i also tried to explain how the fuckin bathroom violence thing isnt an example of 'educating another opinion' AGAIN by saying like... If someone just asked me to explain being transgender i would. If someone just said they were uncomfortable i would leave. That's 'another opinion'. Reacting with slurs and violence to a trans person existing and not doing anything to you is not 'another opinion' and its not someone who 'just didnt know'. He was seriously trying to argue that it WASNT BIGOTED it was just someone rationally being afraid for their children because of a danger that doesnt exist, and rationally reacting with extreme violence rather than doing anything else. Rationally. RATIONALLY. oh just MISTAKENLY committing a hate crime! Cos they just didnt know trans people exist! Not cos they hate us! Oh no! Yeah sure we totally have a fucking DUTY to educate these POOR UNKNOWING PEOPLE while theyre attacking us, and its our damn fault if we didnt...

And just fucking FUCK i hate how someone can say all that stuff and still be "nice" and still not hate me personally? Like its so messed up?? He's not anti trans or anything he just has so much more damn sympathy for cis people than trans people, and puts all the onus on us to somehow prevent our own murders. And he thinks that "i dont have a problem with trans people" means doing LITERALLY NOTHING to change your behaviour to make trans people feel accepted. They should just magically know that your jokes are jokes when theyre surrounded by so many people saying it honestly, in CONSTANT FEAR OF THAT EXACT THING LEADING TO VIOLENCE. And like in order to be "a guy who has no problem with trans people" he has to do nothing, while in order for me to be not bigoted against HIM it means i have to never get offended by his jokes and also never talk about myself and also constantly educate him about things because he doesnt want to learn, even though he works in a hospital thats supposed to have an anti discrimination policy. Like fuckin just NOT HURTING LGBT PEOPLE doesnt make you discrimination free, shit like telling me to misgender myself because my pronouns would confuse the other patients is kinda fuckin fucked up. Also "that's a question for later" is all i CONSTANTLY get when it comes to talking about legal name changes or therapy or even just talking to an lgbt support group. I have to wait until i stop being depressed because oh no im talking about too many mental illnesses at once. Its been seven years and i havent fuckin stopped being depressed, bitch! Ever consider a fuckin symptom of gender dysphoria is a big ol fat depression!!! And just gahhhhh he was so fuckin baffled and angry that i would dare to get emotional about the subject?? Like he just saw DEBATING WHETHER TRANS PEOPLE ARE REAL and WHETHER PEOPLE WHO MURDER THEM FOR USING THE BATHROOM ARE JUSTIFIED as a perfectly normal casual discussion that a Non Transphobic Man could have with his transgender friend. Why oh why would i cry about this casual hypothetical discussion? Hey its not like it fuckin affects me directly! "Well its never happened to you right?" A Ha Ha Ha Ha. Also fuckin "so which bathroom do you use?" and "well you're not really transgender if youre not getting the surgery-oh wait you do want the surgery? How does that work then?" I swear i could just see the gears turning in his head and he was about to say "do you want both down there". Gahhhhhh *cringes myself into a tiny tumbleweed and blows away*

Also the entire time he kept calling being trans a sexuality and also asexuality. "No youre not trans youre asexual right?" Yeah sure ive just been saying im trans and saying im not a girl and wearing a chest binder and talking this entire conversation about my experiences as a trans person in public bathrooms just to pull an elaborate prank on you. And like i know what he meant is that he thought the word for nonbinary was asexual (has asexuality REALLY made so little progress towards getting into the sex ed curriculum in the entire 25 years of my life?) But like seriously he was like "youre not really trans if youre nonbinary". And then fuck dude i dont wanna explain how surgery works to you!! And especially not also my entirely unrelated sexuality that has entirely different equally upsetting predjudices!

Ans gahhhh fuck i just got no sympathy for crying and he acted as if it was just some wildly unexpected occurance he never could have predicted. And i hate it cos he's nice to me whenever the subject is about anything else. I cant get any symoathey from ANYONE because he's A NICE GUY and why dont i just understaaaaaand other opinionnnnnns

I wanted to fuckin quit this whole thing on the spot and go home. Only reason i cant is because my support worker is off work until thursday auauauaughhh

Fuck at least one positive i guess is that ive made progress in the social anxiety or at least gotten better at giving the impression im making progress. Cos i want to LEAVE AS FAST AS POSSIBLE. And also fuck all my other worries seem less suicide-inducing when im actually getting the closest ive ever been to killing myself on a daily basis because of a stupid other thing that i never could have predicted. Go here for one form of self hate, come home with another! Yayyyyy

And fuck i havent even made a single bit of progress on drawing or writing anything and i cant practise making ganes cos my laptop cant run rpgmaker and i havent even started reading my giant pile of books cos they fuckin LOOK THROUGH THE WINDOW EVERY SINGLE HOUR TO MAKE SURE YOU AINT KILLED YOURSELF. i have no fuckin pribacy and its making me wanna kill myself even more!! I just live constantly on edge looking at the fuckin door window and i cant even do anything to distract myself because im too scared of them looking at me!! Or barging in at no notice to tell me i have to do some big stressful thing RIGHT NOW because i dont even get advance notice of anything aaaa! And fuck i dont have anywhere to go to even calm down from a panic attack cos i have no privacy so at least im getting over being scared of going outside cos outside is the only place i can go to cry. Fuckin strangers in the crowd at least wont cause shit if they see me.

Fuck i want to go home. Fuck i wish i had enough money to keep buying mobile internet. Its like fuckin 750mb a day to run tumblr but its all ive got to talk to any person who doesnt hate me or patronize me or think im faking a bunch of shit or whatever the fuck. And im not even any fun to be around when im like this so im probably just ruining your day too. And im probably gonna vanish again soon and then just go back to crying alone and getting worse and probably never being able to leave

I knew it was gonna be stressdul but i didnt predict any of this.. I just wanna fuckin die. I wanted to jump out the car and go to my old dad's house and have him pull open the door and slap me around a bit. Like call me a fucking dyke, call me a sick retard, be honest about your feelings! I'd fuckin take being abused over this "oh youre the bad one for being mad because i had goooood intentions" reverse psychology bigotry from hell. Either these people are evil geniuses or theyre even more stupid like me. Fuckin shit dad please manifest in my room and slap me, killing me instantly. I feel like being scared of you would at least be a faster emotion than this nebulous sensation of confusing unease and dysphoria 24/7 for 6 fuckin months. One week done, haha! Hahahabahahahahahahahahahahahahshahahahahahshshshahshahahahhahahaaaa