#i have to stop vaping for surgery

[spark1edog]

ugh this next few weeks of cutting down on nicotine is gonna be rough for everyone i’m sure

[hamsterclaw]

An 18+ crackfic ft kth x reader.

Dedicated to Kim Taehyung's massive military arms.

Warnings: Crack, unseriousness and seriousness, medical professionals AU, mentions of blood, surgery, death, organ donation, vaping, explicit sex, birth control and copious swearing. 8k words.

start

‘Uh, guys,’ says the new intern, peering around the makeshift barrier you’ve draped between you and the surgeons. ‘There’s a lot of blood.’

‘Pretty, isn’t he?’ says the anaesthetic nurse, almost cooing.

Min Yoongi, your anaesthetic attending, looks unimpressed. ‘Who said he could look around the barrier? Threw me off my game.’ 

He waves his Switch dismissively. ‘Go check it out, Dr L/N. Also, Mr Kim, mind your minion.’

‘For fuck’s sake,’ snaps Mr Kim, otherwise known as Professor Kim Seokjin, head of cardiothoracics at your hospital and editor of Cardiac Surgery, the main journal for cardiothoracics in the world. (Impact factor 10.3)

You scramble round to see and realise the intern’s not lying.

‘Probably a litre of blood loss, maybe two,’ you call over the barrier.

‘I’m on it,’ calls Jung Hoseok, the perfusionist. He doesn’t quite beam his trademark sunny smile, he’s too busy running blood into the bypass circuit, but his pleasant, polite tones are a nice change from Kim Seokjin’s frosty comments and Yoongi’s grunts of disinterest.

‘You checking out my ass?’ asks Kim Taehyung, cardiothoracics fellow, deep voice lowered, a smirk you sense rather than see behind his face mask. 

‘Dunno, is your ass making the patient bleed like a stuck pig?’ you retort. ‘Also, Jimin’s ass is better.’

Kim Taehyung’s brows draw together and he throws you a look that tells you that you’ll pay for that later, and it sends a delicious thrill up your spine, because Taehyung’s been looking good lately.

He always had a face to make one look twice, and now that he’s been hitting the gym and running in the mornings, he’s got a golden tan and arms that strain even through his baggy scrubs tops.

‘We have VF,’ says Yoongi, cool as a cucumber, throwing you a look. ‘Just as well we’re on bypass, but did you idiots get air in the coronaries again?’

You realise that whilst you were fantasising about Kim Taehyung choking you with his big arms and then his dick, all the alarms in your monitoring have been activated.

‘I can’t help if I make everyone’s hearts flutter,’ says Professor Kim Seokjin, Assistant Dean of the top medical school in South Korea.

‘Ah, stop,’ titters Hoyeon, the scrub nurse who’s been working with him for the last ten years but manfully pretending like it’s the first time she’s heard the joke.

The intern’s still staring, mouth agape, and you realise he’s staring at you. 

‘Having a stroke?’ you ask, glaring at him.

‘Sorry noona,’ he stutters.

Beside him, Taehyung snickers. ‘Noona?’

‘Jesus fuck,’ scowls Yoongi. ‘Charge up the damn paddles and get me the fuck out of here.’

Yoongi tugs off his mask in a clear violation of operating theatre policy. ‘I’m getting coffee. If the patient dies, it’s on you.’

He tosses you a capped syringe of fentanyl and then he’s out.

Professor Kim Seokjin eyes you over the draped barrier from the lofty heights of the step he insists on using even though he’s the tallest person in the room. ‘Don’t worry about Dr Jeon, it’s his first time at everything, apparently.’

‘Apparently,’ you echo, firing up the internal defib paddles that Taehyung’s already wielding.

There’s a thin alarm that stops as the shock is delivered, restarting the heart.

Your monitoring resumes regular, steady beeping, Jung Hoseok cheers, and Dr Jeon hits the floor, twitching. 

‘Fuck,’ says Professor Kim Seokjin, clinical lead for the cardiac services directorate. ‘Was he clear?’

‘Apparently not,’ sighs Hoyeon. ‘You told him to hold the retractors, didn’t you?’

You wonder if, as the last remaining anaesthetist in operating theatre 1b, you should be checking on him.

You step back round the barrier and lean over his supine form.

Dr Jeon does have pretty eyes, you note, as he blinks. 

‘You’ve been defibrillated, stay still,’ you explain, reaching to check the pulse in his throat. 

‘Whatever you say, noona,’ he says, his voice clear and high. 

Above you, you can hear Taehyung chuckling to himself.

Yoongi reaches down and plucks the fentanyl out of your hand. 

‘The patient’s BP’s up, why the hell haven’t you given this yet,’ he complains.

You stare at him, including at the smear of powdered sugar on his cheek from the doughnut he scoffed that he hasn’t bothered to wipe off. ‘Sorry, boss.’

Yoongi rolls his eyes. ‘The intern is fine. One shock never hurt anyone.’

‘Don’t worry, noona,’ echoes Dr Jeon, a little dreamily still. ‘I’m fine.’ 

You get up. ‘I’m not your noona, Dr Jeon, we’ve just met,’ you say sternly. ‘Now get up.’

***

You take a furtive look around and when the coast is clear slap the side of the vending machine with the flat of your hand.

The bag of candy you paid for dangles tantalisingly from the shelf instead of falling into the metal collection bin for you to fish out.

‘Shit fuck damnit,’ you swear, preparing to slap again.

Your wrist is caught in mid-air, and a male voice says, smoothly, ‘Allow me.’

You watch, mildly awestruck, as Kim Taehyung grips both sides of the vending machine and shakes it, jostling your candy free.

Shit. When did he get so strong?

He retrieves the bag of candy but instead of holding it out to you, he pockets it instead.

‘Tell me more about how Park Jimin’s ass is better than mine,’ he says, looking down at you.

The arrogant, gorgeous asshole. 

You shove your whole hand into his pocket before he can stop you and curl your fingers around the plastic package.

‘Let me have it,’ you warn.

He smirks. ‘Whatever you want, baby.’

He leans back against the vending machine, all hooded eyes and thick muscles, and your hand stills in his pocket.

‘Tell you what,’ he says, voice all smoke and sex, tendrils of seduction curling around your ears. ‘Let’s go to the on-call room and I’ll unwrap it for you too.’

***

It’s been a while since you and Taehyung last fucked, but there’s never been anything tentative about him, not when he has you in his sights.

He curls a hand around the back of your head, widens his stance so you can reach to kiss him better, and relearns the shape of your mouth so quickly it’s like there was never a gap.

You gasp as he backs you up against the door, lifts his hips up against yours like he means to fuck you into it.

‘Taehyung ah,’ you mumble.

‘Hmm?’ he murmurs, warm breath on your cheek near your ear, his dark wavy hair tickling your ear as he kisses down your neck.

‘I was checking out your ass,’ you confess, yelping a little as he nips where your neck curves into your shoulders.

‘I know, baby,’ he croons, approving and patronising in a way that would infuriate you if he weren’t so goddamned hot. 

He tugs at the hem of your scrubs top, divesting you of it so smoothly you’re awed despite yourself. 

‘So pretty,’ he tells you, eyes dark, voice dropped low. 

‘S-s-s-sorry –’

Both of you jump at the unexpected voice. 

A face pops up from the bed, and you scream and jump into Taehyung’s (big) arms. 

You’ve never seen his entire face, but you definitely recognise those huge eyes. 

Taehyung’s still got his arms around you. ‘Fucking hell, Jungkook. Get the fuck out. We’re not at the Vegas artificial heart conference now.’ 

‘What happened at the Vegas artificial heart conference?’ you mutter, pulling your scrubs top back on. 

‘Don’t get dressed, baby, we can still?’ Taehyung lets his voice trail off suggestively. 

‘Nope,’ you say, shaking your head. ‘Next time, defibrillate him harder.’ 

‘Don’t worry, I will,’ Taehyung promises, throwing Jungkook a dark look. ‘Dinner tonight?’ 

You sigh. ‘Don’t forget to bring my candy.’ 

***

You’re sitting behind him so you can’t see his face, but you suspect that Kim Namjoon, your colleague and fellow anaesthetist, is asleep. 

There’s something about the slant of his shoulders that gives him away. That and the soft snores and myclonic jerks.

You kick his chair to wake him up before Yoongi notices.

‘Fuck,’ utters Namjoon as he jerks awake and knocks his coffee cup off the table.

You raise your eyebrow at the clear liquid now puddling on the floor.

Min Yoongi turns away from the screen where you’re dialled into a multidisciplinary meeting with a hospital in Busan and you both freeze guiltily.

‘It was kind of you to wake Dr Kim up but you do realise I could see both of you in the camera view,’ he points out. ‘In fact, that was my only entertainment whilst we were waiting for this idiot to get the point.’

‘We’re not on mute!’ you say, quickly, trying to salvage the situation.

‘Don’t worry,’ comes the dry voice of Dr Choi from the Busan team. ‘I know how Dr Min feels about me.’

‘Why don’t you do something about it then,’ mutters Yoongi. ‘Like die.’ 

‘How bout I fuck your minion?’ asks Dr Choi.

You and Namjoon look at each other uneasily. 

‘Relax,’ snaps Yoongi. ‘He can’t fuck a damn thing with his pencil dick. Even if he could, you wouldn’t feel it anyway.’

‘Will you motherfuckers shut the fuck up and just accept this patient for surgery?’ 

‘Certainly,’ comes the smooth velvety tones of Professor Kim Seokjin, lead author of the 2019 seminal paper on kidney injury following cardiopulmonary bypass. (Cited 29 times)

The squares on the screen reshuffle, and you’re treated to a close-up of Professor Kim Seokjin’s very handsome face, backlit to perfection with two surgical lights from theatre 1b. 

He looks straight into the camera with his trademark head tilted half smile. ‘Your place or ours?’

***

‘Your place or ours, like a fucking nightcap,’ complains Namjoon bitterly as he follows you onto the train to Busan. 

You don’t know why he’s complaining, he’s not the one carrying Yoongi’s beloved Hario V60 Switch immersion dripper and mini mill. Yoongi had insisted that you bring his coffee paraphernalia to Busan in your backpack because - ‘the coffee at St Mary’s is shit’ and ‘I don’t trust him to carry it’. 

You grimace as the him in question, Namjoon, throws himself haphazardly into a seat and there’s the audible snap of breaking plastic from his backpack. 

‘Was that something important?’ you ask, out of obligation. 

‘Just my work tablet,’ Namjoon says, shrugging. ‘I have two, anyway.’ 

‘Now you have one,’ you mutter, looking for a place to stow Yoongi’s stuff. 

‘Let me,’ offers a husky voice you know well. 

You turn your head to confirm that it’s Park Jimin’s hands lifting Yoongi’s stuff and placing it carefully in the overhead compartment. 

‘Thanks, Jimin,’ you say. 

Jimin smiles and waves you into your seat, then sits next to you. 

‘Heard you were singing praises about my ass,’ he says, a flirtatious twinkle in his eye, a lilt to his voice that lends a soupcon of filth to his words. 

‘She took it back,’ corrects Kim Taehyung as he slides into the seat next to Namjoon. 

Jimin doesn’t even raise an eyebrow. 

‘Want to go to the beach after the surgery?’ he asks you. 

‘Dunno, did you bring swim trunks?’ you ask, feigning innocence. 

He laughs, delighted. ‘Nope.’ 

‘Then yes.’ 

Taehyung says, ‘I’ll share my suncreen’ at the same time as Namjoon says, thoughtfully, ‘You can probably buy swimming trunks —’ 

Your phone rings. It’s Yoongi. 

‘Where are you and Namjoon,’ he asks, forgoing a greeting entirely. 

‘On the train. We’ll be there in two hours,’ you tell him. 

‘Two hours? Are you walking from Seoul? Backwards?’ Yoongi asks, exasperated. ‘I’m already here and I need a coffee.’ 

‘You’re already there? How?’ 

‘Never mind. Are you with the cardiothoracics fellows? Kim Seokjin and I are waiting to start.’ 

‘They’re on the same train,’ you say. 

‘Jesus fuck,’ Yoongi snaps. ‘What part of urgent surgery didn’t you guys get? Even the intern made it before you, and he doesn’t even know what operation we’re doing.’ 

‘We can get a taxi straight from the station,’ you offer tentatively. 

‘You weren’t going to do that anyway?’ 

‘Just tell me what you want,’ you beg. 

Yoongi sighs, his eyeroll so obvious you can hear it through the phone. ‘We’re in theatre 4. Come as soon as you arrive.’ 

‘Well fuck,’ you say, as he hangs up on you unceremoniously. 

***

Taehyung nudges you. 

‘Want me to carry you?’ he asks, sympathetically.

In your mad dash to the hospital once your train got into Busan earlier, you’d stacked it coming down the

station steps and twisted your ankle. Thankfully Yoongi’s coffee kit was intact, you’d have never heard the end of it otherwise.

You’d managed to make it just in time to recover the patient post-op and even to make Yoongi a coffee so he couldn’t be too mad at your and Namjoon’s tardiness.

Jimin and Taehyung had managed to smooth down the ruffled feathers of Professor Kim Seokjin, pioneer of the Toro sutureless repair technique used by cardiothoracic surgeons around the world. (First presented at the World Cardiothoracic Congress 2015 in Philadelphia)

The day hadn’t been a total wash, and now you’re heading to the beach for a beer before taking the train back home.

You look up at Taehyung to see him smiling at you affectionately.

‘I can walk,’ you tell him.

‘I didn’t build these muscles for nothing,’ he coaxes. ‘At least lean on my arm.’

You can’t help your smile as you slip your hand into the crook of his arm.

‘I’m tired,’ you tell him.

He tugs you closer gently. ‘I know, baby.’

You don’t think you’ve ever been out with him before like this. You’ve gone out in a group plenty of times, but you’ve never really touched him in public.

Which is not to say you haven’t touched every inch of his skin in private. 

You are friends who fuck after all.

By the time you catch up with Jimin and Namjoon, they’ve cracked open the beer and made a space on the beach far enough back that the tide doesn’t reach.

‘Cheers,’ Jimin says, passing you a drink, barely reacting to the fact that Taehyung’s got his arm around you. 

‘Cheers,’ you say. ‘Where’s —-‘

You stop dead mid sentence as the intern, Dr Jeon Jungkook, emerges from the water and approaches you, shirtless, and wet. 

You blink, twice, then turn and bury your face in Taehyung’s chest. 

‘Why is the intern so naked?’ you mumble.

You can feel the rumble of Taehyung’s laughter in his chest before you hear it.

‘Do you want me to ask him for you?’ he asks.

‘No. I don’t want to talk to him.’

He laughs again. ‘Shut up and drink, you’re going to make me jealous.’

Now you’re laughing. ‘I’ve never seen you jealous, Tae.’

It’s true.

In the two years that you’ve been fucking Taehyung on and off, you’ve never seen him be possessive about anything.

Now that you think of it, he’s the most self-assured person you know.

You’re still laughing to yourself as you turn back to the group, only to realise that the intern is sitting right next to you.

‘Am I embarrassing you, noona?’ he asks.

There’s more than a hint of cockiness in his tone.

The little shit knows his body is fucking hot. 

You haven’t survived the last three years under the tutelage of Dr Min Yoongi for nothing.

‘I’m not embarrassed,’ you say, looking him dead in the eyes. ‘I guess since you’ve seen me without a shirt on it’s only fair that I get to see you shirtless too.’

Jimin’s eyebrows rise.

Namjoon rolls his eyes.

Jeon Jungkook blushes so hard his ears turn red.

Beside you, Taehyung snorts and cracks open another beer.

***

You’re trying to finish up your chart from the patient you just recovered but the recovery nurses are discussing hot theatre staff again.

‘Scary, but hot.’

You stifle a smile as Yoongi walks out of theatres and heads straight for you.

‘The bed on ICU is ready,’ he says, not bothering to give you any context.

‘Of course,’ you say, bowing.

He gives you a suspicious look. ‘We’ll start at 7 tomorrow.’

‘Yes, sir,’ you say, saluting.

‘I have more beans,’ he says, a final parting shot before he walks off.

You make a mental note to collect the fresh coffee beans from Yoongi’s locker at 6am tomorrow because a 7am start for him means a 6.30am start for you.

Beside you, the recovery nurses sigh collectively, and you know without looking up that it’s Professor Kim Seokjin, winner of the De Leval prize for outstanding contributions to cardiothoracic surgery on three separate occasions - 2017, 2018 and 2020.

‘Waaah I don’t have to worry now that I know my patients are in your hands,’ Professor Kim Seokjin says to the nurses, jovial and charming as always.

To you, he smiles and nods politely. ‘Wake and extubate my patient please, they can be discharged tomorrow.’

Now Yoongi’s words make sense. 

‘Ah, I’ll try my best, but Dr Min wants the patient on ICU overnight,’ you say.

Professor Kim Seokjin may have a wing of the medical school named after him but it’s Min Yoongi who’ll have your head on a platter if you don’t follow his instructions.

You wince slightly as you catch sight of the patient’s vitals. Yeah. Yoongi called it. He’s not the most highly paid anaesthetist this side of the Hangang for nothing.

You’re prepping to transfer to the ICU when you hear Nurse Choi giggle. 

‘He’s so handsome!’

Next to her, Nurse Kim says, in a voice that’s higher than usual, ‘He’s so nice, too. Ara said he was a total gentleman on their date.’

You look up, expecting to see Park Jimin or even the intern, but instead you see Kim Taehyung.

The punch you feel in your chest surprises you.

Why would you care if Kim Taehyung’s taking other women on dates? 

It’s not like he’s dating you.

You’re concentrating so hard on trying not to be upset that you don’t notice that Taehyung’s standing beside you until he picks up an infusion pump.

‘Seems like a lot of adrenaline,’ he comments.

‘I think Professor Kim was, uh, optimistic about his heart function,’ you reply. 

You take the pump from him and snap it onto the trolley pole. ‘We’re going up to the ICU.’

Before you can stop him, Taehyung’s taken up position at the head of the bed. ‘I’ll help you wheel him up.’

‘There are porters for that sort of thing,’ you protest.

He just looks at you patiently.

In the end you acquiesce and let him help. He waits by the nursing station whilst you hand over.

‘Dinner at the Kitchen?’ Taehyung suggests when you’re done.

‘Sure,’ you agree, falling into step beside him.

Then you remember. ‘But you can’t come over after, I’m on my period.’

‘Why can’t I come over when you’re on your period?’ asks Taehyung, swiping his ID to let you both into the changing rooms.

‘You can come over but no sex,’ you tell him, as the intern emerges from behind the scrubs dispenser.

He flushes immediately and drops his gaze.

‘Noona,’ he says, bowing in greeting. 

‘You seem more shy with your clothes on, Jeon Jungkook,’ you observe.

‘Not always, noona,’ Jeon Jungkook murmurs. He flicks his eyes to yours briefly.

You laughs, surprised, and his whole face flushes prettily. 

As soon as he leaves, Taehyung frowns. 

‘I’d probably be worried if I thought there was a chance he wouldn’t pass out if you flirted back,’ he says casually.

‘I don’t date jailbait,’ you say. ‘What are you doing?’

Taehyung’s hoisted your backpack onto his shoulder.

He raises a brow, matter of fact. ‘You’re on your period, let me carry your stuff.’

‘Please, you’ll make me fall in love with you,’ you tease.

He laughs. ‘That’s the plan. Come on, I’m buying dinner.’

***

‘That dinner was worth a blow job,’ you announce, licking the last of the sauce on the wings off your fingers.

Taehyung pushes your water glass closer to you. 

‘I didn’t buy you dinner so we could fuck,’ he says.

There’s an edge to his voice that makes you look at him carefully.

‘I’m sorry. I’m just — it’s just that, that’s what we do, isn’t it?’

Taehyung looks irritated. ‘It doesn’t have to be just fucking all the time does it?’

His tone is shorter than he’s ever been with you.

You sense you’re in dangerous waters here, but you have no idea what the right thing to do or say is.

‘You’re right,’ you end up saying, but it took you so long to say it that it comes out flat, like you don’t really mean it.

Taehyung gets up. ‘Anyway.’

He still sounds annoyed.

You follow him out of the Kitchen in silence.

‘I’ll walk you home, it’s late. Don’t worry, I won’t invite myself in.’

He sets off without really waiting for you to answer.

It’s a short walk to your apartment, not really long enough for you to gather your thoughts, but you know you can’t let him leave like this.

‘Tae?’ you ask, tentative, touching his arm.

It’s too dark to really see his face, but you can feel the tension in his muscles draining away under your fingers.

‘I’m sorry I snapped at you,’ he says.

‘It’s ok,’ you tell him. ‘I don’t think of you as just a fuck buddy, you know?’

‘I know we said no strings, at the beginning,’ he says. ‘But we’ve been doing this for so long —‘

He’s right. 

It’s been nearly two years since you first slept together. 

You’re thinking back to the first time and the rush you’d felt when he’d leaned over casually on a group night out and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

He still makes you feel that way, if you’re being honest. 

You guess since you’ve never really dated that you’ve never seen anything that would take the shine off how you feel.

You’ve never seen him in holey sweatpants or with a shiny face or greasy hair or stuffing his face with yesterday’s takeout.

Well actually maybe you have seen that.

You’ve reached your door. 

You figure it’s now or never.

‘Come in, if you want,’ you say. 

He looks at you. ‘I don’t want to force anything because I was being an ass.’

‘Well, we’ve been fucking for two years,’ you remind him. 

You smile. ‘You can be an ass. You don’t have to be on your best behaviour all the time.’

Taehyung’s smile makes your heart skip a beat. 

You take your time unlocking your door, regaining your composure.

‘I’m taking a shower, there’s ice cream in the freezer,’ you tell Taehyung. 

He’s hanging his coat up in your entryway. You don’t think you’ve ever told him how much his fastidiousness about his clothes tickles you.

By the time you’re out of the shower, he’s on your couch, feet up, a steaming cup of tea and a tub of ice cream on the coffee table.

‘Here,’ he says. ‘I made you tea.’

You smile at him gratefully. 

‘How are you feeling?’ he asks. 

‘I’m fine,’ you tell him. You slide onto the couch next to him. ‘Want to watch a movie?’

‘If I get to pick,’ he says. 

‘Choose whatever you want.’

You sink back into the cushions as he picks the show, some feel good baseball movie. He grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over the both of you, and when he slides his hand under the fleecy fabric to hold yours, you don’t pull away.

It feels good to hold him.

***

You’re checking your anaesthetic machine, drawing up drugs for your first case when the intern Jeon Jungkook bursts into your anaesthetic room like he’s just escaped the jaws of certain death.

‘Noona,’ he begs.

‘I’m not your —‘ 

You cut yourself off and sigh. ‘What do you want, Jeon Jungkook?’

‘I fucked up,’ he says, panicked.

‘Is that the medical term for it?’ you ask, cracking open a vial of antibiotics so he’ll get to the point.

‘I forgot to order the blood for the first patient.’

You roll your eyes. ‘So call blood bank, there’s time.’

‘I called them!’ he cries. ‘The patient has antibodies! They can’t have blood ready for another four hours!’

‘Oh shit,’ you say. 

Professor Kim Seokjin, chair of the hospital patient safety committee (awarded the national Clinical Excellence Award in 2022), is notorious for sticking to protocol. You know that he would never start a case if there wasn’t blood available.

You know just as well as Jeon Jungkook does, that he’s doomed. A cancelled case would tarnish Professor Kim Seokjin’s sterling reputation.

The little shit with the hot body is fucked. 

You both look up as the theatre doors open and Professor Kim Seokjin and Min Yoongi stroll in for the pre-op briefing.

Beside you, Jeon Jungkook whimpers.

‘Pull yourself together,’ you hiss.

Before he passes out with all his hyperventilating, you step forward. 

‘Dr Jeon and I were just discussing the order of today’s cases,’ you say, smoothly. ‘We think the first patient should go last, at the end of the day. They live quite far away and we should discharge them tomorrow anyway.’

Professor Kim Seokjin smiles. ‘Always thinking about the patients,’ he says, approving.

Min Yoongi eyes you and Jungkook suspiciously then visibly decides he doesn’t give enough of a fuck to question it. 

As soon as they’ve left you grab Jungkook by the neck of his scrubs top. 

‘Go and beg blood bank to guarantee you the blood will be available by the end of the day,’ you say. ‘I don’t care if you have to sleep with someone, just take care of it. Also, use protection.’ 

Jungkook’s throat works visibly with emotion. 

‘Noona, thank you for saving my ass,’ he says, bowing so low he nearly tips your drugs tray off the counter.

You sigh. ‘Just get it done, ok?’

‘I will,’ he promises. 

***

The annual staff party takes place in December, you go every year when you’re not working.

It’s not what you would call a classy affair, but there’s an unlimited free bar and a buffet table.

You’re trying not to get pulled onto the dancefloor by the overexcited Jung Hoseok when you see him.

Tall, dressed in a crisp shirt that makes his skin tone pop, wavy hair styled half over his forehead, he looks so good your mouth goes dry.

He’s already looking at you.

You send him a pleading look as last summer’s dance anthem comes on and you finally acquiesce.

Hoseok’s a great dancer, you’ll give him that, with an energy that’s infectious. You’re starting to enjoy it when Taehyung slides in smoothly behind you.

His body presses against yours, you get the sense he’s leaning closer, then his voice sounds in your ear.

Intimate like a caress.

‘You look really pretty,’ he says. 

You turn your head and he’s right there, lips curled in a smirk, head tilted to yours like it’s just the two of you.

You turn into his arms and his hand lands on the small of your back, an inch too low for polite company.

He dips his head low to whisper in your ear again, and you let him lead you off the dancefloor, into a darkened part of the room.

‘My place?’ he murmurs, eyes intent on yours, his tall frame leaning over you.

You curl a hand over his forearm, and he wraps a possessive arm around your waist to take you home.

***

Shit, Taehyung is hotter than you remember.

He’s splayed over his couch, tugging you down so you’re draped over his thick thighs, your skirt rucked up, his thick length throbbing against your core.

He lays a kiss right next to the corner of your mouth, teasing when you turn your head to try to kiss him.

He’s got a hand on your waist, another one curved over your breast, and he grunts when you rock your hips against his.

‘Fuck, when’s the last time we did this,’ he murmurs into your ear, voice thick, syllables running together in a honeyed drawl that makes you close your eyes.

‘Dunno, don’t make me wait,’ you complain, tugging at his shirt.

He doesn’t answer, kissing you again with an eagerness that let you know he wants this as much as you do.

He tastes like the chocolate mint he was sucking all the way to his apartment and he licks into your mouth in a way that makes your crave the feel of his cock plunging into you.

‘Tae,’ you moan.

His hand runs down your spine, tugs the zipper of your dress down, making your dress fall in a pool at your hips. He gazes at your breasts in the bra you picked out because you know he likes white lingerie.

He chews on his lower lip as he traces a finger over the upper curve of your breasts, then he lowers his mouth to you.

He unclasps your bra, helps you pull it off.

The way he admires your half naked body makes you feel like you’re burning up from the inside.

He pulls your hips closer, grinds a little against you, showing you he’s still hard as a rock, but he’s always been a patient man.

He kisses the soft curves of your tits until you’re whining his name the way he likes. By the time he sucks a nipple into the wet warmth of his mouth you’re barely aware of anything but him.

 He lays you down, gets on top of you, mouth still on your tits, hard cock jutting into the space between your legs, teasing.

You curl an arm around his neck, hanging on as he aligns the blunt head of his cock to your entrance and pushes in.

‘Fuck,’ you gasp. He fills you so well your eyes close with the pleasure of it.

He circles his hips on the next thrust, and you whine his name.

‘Gonna come on my cock?’ he asks, voice low, words coming out staccato as he keeps fucking you. 

‘Yeah, fuck, don’t stop,’ you moan. 

‘I won’t,’ he promises, curling a hand under your knee to keep you from scooting up the bed with every thrust.

Fuck, he’s strong.

He rolls his hips tight against yours, and you can feel your orgasm tingling through your toes, your pleasure centres lighting up each time he groans and moves deep inside you.

‘Tae,’ you pant.

‘Yeah,’ he grunts. ‘Hold on.’

He takes a moment to push your hair away from your face and give you a cocky smirk as though you couldn’t feel exactly how hard he is.

‘Gonna cum?’ 

‘Uh huh, don’t stop,’ you plead..

‘I won’t,’ he promises again. ‘Wanna feel you —‘

You cry his name as he grips your ass and you come.

‘Good girl,’ he praises, voice low, the tendons in his neck straining as he fucks you through it. 

‘Shit, I can feel you,’ he groans. ‘Fu—-uck.’

He’s coming himself, you realise, his movements slowing, his grip tightening on your ass almost to the point of pain.

He dips his head for another kiss, open mouthed and sloppy, tongues mingling as the tension drains from his body and he collapses on the bed next to you.

‘Are you squished?’ he asks, slurred, trying to disentangle your thighs from his.

You shake your head.

‘Don’t go far —‘

He laughs, affectionate. ‘Forgot how clingy you get. Gimme a sec, just get this —-‘

He breaks off. ‘Shit.’

‘What?’ you ask, trying to see.

‘Condom split,’ he tells you. 

‘Oh.’

You sit up, and there’s a tell-tale gush between your legs.

‘Yeah.’

You roll out of his bed, your legs like jelly still, and head for his bathroom.

A moment later he sticks his head round the door. 

‘You ok?’

Your eyes meet. 

‘Yeah.’

‘There’s a 24 hour pharmacy down the block,’ he says. He hesitates. ‘I haven’t slept with anyone since we last fucked.’

Despite the situation, you’re surprised. ‘Really?’

‘Have you?’

You use the bathroom and wash your hands. 

‘No.’

‘Shit, are we monogamous?’ Taehyung asks, sounding so incredulous about it you snicker. 

‘Shit, it’s like we’re a couple or something,’ you joke.

He hands you one of his sweatshirts to get dressed. 

‘Guess so,’ he agrees. ‘Do you even want to go to the pharmacy? We can have a baby. I like babies.’

You smile at him fondly. ‘You’re good with babies,’ you say. ‘But we can’t have a baby now.’

‘Honestly?’ he says, pulling his own clothes on. ‘Even talking about it is making me horny.’

You laugh as he passes you your panties. ‘Come on, let’s go, I’m hungry.’

Taehyung helps you on with your coat. 

‘Is my hair a mess?’ you ask.

‘Looks like you’ve been fucked,’ he advises. ‘Keep it that way so no one hits on you.’

‘You’re ridiculous,’ you scoff. ‘Who’s going to hit on me at the pharmacy?’

‘Who wouldn’t hit on you?’ he counters, sounding perfectly serious. ‘You’re hot.’

He locks his door and you head down to the main entrance of his building.

He slips his hand over yours so naturally you don’t realise what he’s doing until he’s holding your hand, and then you don’t want to let go.

***

It’s the week before Christmas and you’re in the staffroom having lunch with Namjoon as Hoyeon and Mina pass out the secret santa gifts.

‘Here’s yours,’ Hoyeon announces brightly, passing you a silver paper bag 

You accept with a nod and thanks, pulling out the card.

‘Thank you for being you, love Santa,’ you read out loud.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. ‘Christmas is a soulless commercial holiday.’

‘Ok, atheist,’ you say, rolling your eyes back at him.

‘I’m agnostic,’ he mutters.

You unwrap your gift and stop, frowning, at the duck’s egg blue box.

‘Wasn’t there a cost limit?’ 

You lift the lid to reveal a pair of sparkly earrings. 

‘That’s at least a carat each,’ Hoyeon observes.

‘This can’t be right,’ you say.

‘Do you like them, noona?’ asks the intern Jeon Jungkook, popping up from out of nowhere.

You and Namjoon stare at him open-mouthed.

‘Are you my secret santa?’ you ask.

He nods eagerly. ‘I was so happy to get you.’

‘There was a gift cost limit,’ you protest.

‘I don’t know how much they cost, I just put it on my black card,’ he admits.

You’re still staring at him.

‘Jesus fuck,’ observes Yoongi from somewhere behind you. ‘What in the name of blood diamonds—‘

‘They’re ethically sourced!’ says Jeon Jungkook, indignant.

‘No diamonds are ethically sourced,’ Yoongi says, pityingly. ‘Anyway there was a gift cost limit. She can’t accept.’

Jungkook pouts.

‘They’re beautiful, but Yoongi’s right, Jungkook,’ you say gently. ‘Besides, you can’t afford —‘

‘My family own the hospital,’ Jungkook tells you, earnestly. ‘And a few others too, and Sharpcor.’

Now Yoongi’s staring at him too. ‘Your family own the biggest pharmaceutical conglomerate in South Korea?’

Hoyeon whistles. 

Namjoon splutters. ‘You left a pair of diamond earrings in a random gift pile in the staffroom?’

‘Not the point,’ you and Yoongi say in unison.

‘Who knew the intern was chaebol,’ remarks Hoyeon. She pats him reassuringly on the shoulder. ‘So handsome, too.’

Hoyeon smiles at you. ‘Almost as handsome as Kim Taehyung.’

Namjoon chokes on his lunch.

‘You and Taehyung?’ he asks, incredulous.

‘Where have you fucking been?’ Yoongi asks, scornful. 

He turns to you. ‘This is why I don’t trust him to carry my coffee stuff.’

‘Anyway, I wanted to thank you for helping me out the other day,’ Jungkook says. ‘And if Taehyung ever treats you badly you should tell me.’

He narrows his eyes. 

‘I’ll take care of him for you, noona,’ he vows. 

‘Uh, thanks?’

‘Where’s my secret santa gift?’ Namjoon asks, looking through the pile.

‘Working with me is its own reward,’ comes the silken tones of Professor Kim Seokjin, awardee of the ‘Trainer of the Year’ award for five years running as voted for by SNU medical trainees. 

Kim Seokjin smiles kindly at you. ‘Nice earrings.’

***

You’re sitting at the ICU hub validating your observations from the last case when a shadow falls over you. You look up automatically to see Kim Taehyung.

‘Hey,’ he says, that smirk on his face that you’ll never admit to him is fucking hot.

‘Hey,’ you say, casual.

He leans over the screen of your computer. ‘So I figured —‘

He’s cut off by Ara, one of the ICU nurses.

‘Thank you for my secret santa present,’ she says, smiling at him warmly.

‘How did you know it was him?’ you ask, signing the last of your prescriptions.

‘We talked about how much I love cats,’ she replies, looking up shyly.

Taehyung smiles. ‘It was me. I’m glad you liked your present.’

‘I wondered, if you’re not too busy later, if you wanted to go to the cat cafe we were talking about?’ Ara asks.

Taehyung glances at you. ‘Actually, Ara —‘

He pauses like he’s waiting for you to jump in.

You’re logged off, all done, but waiting to see where this goes.

‘I’m kind of seeing someone,’ he finishes.

You get up, and Taehyung follows you out of the ICU. 

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ he complains, as soon as you’re out of Ara’s earshot.

‘Like what?’ you ask.

‘Like how we fucked three times last night?’

You both fall silent as Nurse Choi passes by pretending not to have heard.

‘Why would that stop you from going to the cat cafe with Ara?’ you ask. 

You’ve spoken thoughtlessly, and as soon as the words leave your lips you realise how collossally stupid they are. 

Of course you care if Taehyung goes on a date with Ara. 

It’s too late to take them back. 

Taehyung stares at you, brows drawn together. 

‘Unbelievable,’ he says. 

You’re hurt, but you don’t know what to say to salvage the awful wrong turn this conversation’s taken. 

For once, your quick mind fails you, and whilst you’re clicking through how to fix this, Taehyung’s turned away. 

‘You know what, I don’t want to do this,’ he tells you. 

He lifts his gaze to yours. ‘I thought we were finally getting somewhere, you know? What was the point of us these two years?’ 

He doesn’t wait for an answer, which is fine, because you can’t give one. 

As he walks away you already know you’re making the biggest mistake you’ve made lately in letting him go. 

***

Yoongi sighs, exaggerated. 

‘Did you start your Christmas drinking early or what?’

‘Huh?’ you ask, blankly. 

‘You’re one short step from getting thrown out of my anaesthetic room,’ Yoongi says, a sharpness to his tone he doesn’t normally use with you. 

You struggle to focus on the monitoring in front of you. 

‘Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping well,’ you apologise. 

‘Next time you have a bad day, do us both a favour and call in sick,’ Yoongi says. ‘This patient is relying on us to keep him alive and under anaesthesia for his operation, and at this rate, you’re not going to achieve that.’ 

You take a step back at his harsh words. 

‘I’m sorry, I’ll call in Namjoon,’ you say hurriedly. 

‘Leave the —’

Yoongi breaks off as you pick up the glass bottle of acetaminophen. ‘I told you it was broken,’ he says. 

You stare blindly at the cut on your hand from the glass shard of the broken bottle. 

‘Fuck. I’m so sorry. I’ll get Namjoon,’ you say. 

‘No. Sit the fuck down,’ Yoongi says sternly, tossing you a pack of swabs to mop up the bleeding. ‘Watch the monitoring until I get back, and if the patient’s tube falls out you’re damn well going to snap gloves on and reintubate him, cut hand or not.’ 

You daren’t disagree. 

You tie a swab around your bleeding hand and force yourself back into the routine you’ve developed over the years you’ve been training with Yoongi. 

Patient. 

Monitoring. 

Lines. 

You run through all three checks in a loop until you hear the door to the anaesthetic room swing open behind you. 

‘The patient’s stable,’ you call, not turning around. 

‘I know they are,’ comes Yoongi’s voice. ‘Go get your hand stitched up.’ 

You turn and instead of Namjoon you see Taehyung. 

You look at Yoongi, betrayed. 

He’s staring back at you, face impassive. 

‘Do you think I actually need help? I’ve been giving anaesthesia since before you could even draw a propofol molecule,’ he says, dryly. ‘Go get your hand stitched up.’ 

Taehyung’s looking at you, but he hasn’t moved from his spot near the door. 

‘It might not need stitches,’ you protest. 

‘Why don’t you let the surgeon decide,’ Yoongi suggests. ‘Get the fuck out of my anaesthetic room. I expect you back here next week at your usual level of competence.’ 

He turns his back on you so you have no choice but to follow Taehyung into the next room. 

Taehyung runs the tap so you can hold your hand under the stream of water. 

‘Just keep it under there,’ he says. ‘I’ll get some local and sutures ready.’ 

You watch the blood from your cut run into the sink and try to gather your composure as he gathers things behind you. 

You haven’t spoken to Taehyung since your awful encounter a week ago. You’d called him, but he hadn’t answered, so you’d left it at that. 

You’re wondering if you should turn around when he approaches you with a swab. 

‘Here, hold your arm up,’ he says quietly. 

You bend your elbow to keep your hand above your heart as you take a seat on the trolley. 

Taehyung gestures for you to lower your hand onto the tray he’s set up. 

He pulls up a stool across from you, and you look away. 

‘There’s a shard of glass still in here,’ he tells you. ‘I’ll give you some local and take it out. You’ll probably need a couple stitches.’ 

‘Ok,’ you say. 

You flinch at the sting of the needle, but he’s so gentle you don’t feel much more than that. 

This close, the familiarity of his cologne and the warmth of his touch make you miss him so much it makes you want to cry. 

You still can’t look at him. 

He’s quiet as he works on your hand. 

Finally, he says, ‘All done.’ 

You risk a look at your hand to see a line of beautiful neat stitches, just before he covers it with a dressing. 

‘Thanks,’ you say. You look up to meet his gaze. 

He leans forward and kisses you on your forehead, so quickly you don’t have time to react. 

‘Take the stitches out in a week,’ he says. 

He hesitates. ‘I can take them out for you, but if it’s easier, any of the nurses can help you.’ 

‘Tae,’ you say. 

He’s already getting up, tidying up the tray. ‘Just a sec.’ 

You wait for him after he’s left the room, but soon enough it’s clear that he’s not coming back.

***

‘You didn’t even dress this smartly when you interviewed for your fellowship,’ Yoongi observes from somewhere behind you.

You jump.

‘Jesus, don’t sneak up on me like that!’

Yoongi looks unperturbed, sucking on a vape that violates all of the hospital’s policies.

You remind him of that and he just snorts. ‘Technically we’re on university grounds.’

‘The real question is why you’re hanging around hiding behind a fern at the surgical appraisals,’ Yoongi remarks.

‘I’m not hiding,’ you say, sulky.

Yoongi mutters something that sounds like ‘fucking Kim Taehyung.’

You don’t bother asking him to repeat himself, because you’ve spotted him.

Before you can make yourself overthink it, you step out, right into Kim Taehyung’s path.

He steps back, startled, his hand automatically reaching to steady you.

‘Are you ok? Did I bump into you?’

‘No,’ you say, ‘I just wanted to say good luck for your appraisal.’

His smile is immediate. ‘You remembered. Thank you.’

You’re so busy drinking in how good he looks in a suit that it takes you a moment to realise he’s just asked you a question.

‘My hand?’

He holds out his hand, palm out, and you put your hand in his automatically.

He looks like he’s holding back a smile. ‘I think it was the other one,’ he says, so seriously you can’t be embarrassed.

He traces a gentle finger over your healing scar.

‘It looks like it’s healing nicely,’ he observes. His fingers curl around yours in a gentle squeeze, then he lets go.

‘Thanks for stitching me up,’ you say.

You both look up as his name is called.

‘Good luck,’ you say, quickly.

He looks like he wants to say something else, but in the end he just nods.

***

It’s 10am on Christmas day, and you’ve never been a grinch but your Christmas spirit is already running low.

So far you’ve extubated two patients on the ICU, one of whom promptly pulled out his art line, dousing you and Nurse Choi in AB positive, and the only fresh scrubs left in the dispenser were three times too large for you.

You sigh as you roll up your scrubs bottoms so they aren’t dragging on the floor as you head to theatres to answer your latest call.

You’re greeted by a rush of activity.

‘There’s an offer,’ announces Hoyeon as you enter the anaesthetic meeting room.

‘Heart or lungs?’ you ask.

‘It’s a heart, from Jeju-do.’

‘Where’s the recipient?’ you ask. 

‘Arriving in an hour,’ says Yoongi, briskly. ‘Go have lunch, it’s going to be a late night.’

It’s 10 am, but you know that with the logistics of all the pre-heart transplant tests, harvesting the donor heart and prepping the recipient, you’ll be busy for hours.

You head to the staffroom to bolt your lunch only to find Taehyung already there.

He glances at your sandwich and pushes one of his bowls towards you. ‘I brought extra,’ he says. 

‘Thanks,’ you say.

You eat in silence seated opposite each other.

Eventually he says, ‘Didn’t they have any scrubs in your size?’ 

‘I like the baggy look,’ you reply, deadpan.

You realise he’s lifting his own scrubs top off. 

‘Here, let’s swap. It’s closer to your size.’

You stand and he steps between you and the staffroom door to shield you from the view of anyone walking in.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t look,’ he says. There’s a teasing note in his voice.

You pull your top off and pass it to him, then slip his top on. 

It smells like him. 

‘Did you look?’ you ask, looking up at him.

He reaches to help you pull your hair out from the back of the top. 

‘Of course I did,’ he says, and he sounds so offended that you would even check that you can’t help giggling.

‘I miss you,’ you say, the words coming so naturally you don’t realise what you’ve said until his eyebrows lift slightly.

He doesn’t give you any time to worry. ‘I’ve missed you too,’ he tells you.

You exchange a smile, the first in a long time.

There’s exaggerated throat clearing from behind Taehyung.

‘There’s a patient waiting to get a new heart, but you guys take your time,’ says Yoongi, wielding his sarcasm like a whole other language. ‘It’s fine.’

***

You’re titrating pressors on the patient from Jeju-do as Park Jimin dissects down the major vessels and veins. 

In the adjoining theatre, you can see Yoongi, Taehyung and Professor Kim Seokjin (Executive Chair of the National Blood and Transplant Committee 2021-2024) waiting with the recipient.

Jimin looks up at you. 

‘About to explant,’ he says.

‘I’ve got you,’ you reply.

You watch, awed as always, as the donor heart is placed in a saline bath and rolled towards the adjoining theatre. 

Namjoon, beside you, takes over the haemodynamics and Jimin goes back to operating. You know that between them they’ll treat the donor with the honour their choice deserves.

For now, you head towards the next theatre to help Yoongi. 

Jung Hoseok’s running a spotless circuit, the recipient’s already on bypass, and the heart looks good to go.

As Taehyung and Professor Kim Seokjin (founder of the non-profit Healing Hearts that provides surgical expertise to low-income countries) remove the original heart and begin the long process of suturing the new graft in, there’s a quiet that’s uncharacteristic of operating theatre 1b.

You can’t help but admire how beautiful Taehyung looks when he’s like this, his face composed under his loupes, his hands moving with a grace and sureness that’s lovely to watch.

Yoongi and you swap each other out as the operation goes on, until just before midnight when the last of the graft sutures goes in. 

There aren’t any barriers between you and the surgeons, not tonight at least. 

‘I think we’re good,’ Kim Seokjin says, with a quiet simplicity you rarely ever hear from him. 

‘Good,’ Yoongi says, absent his usual snark.

Taehyung releases the aortic cross clamp, and as you watch, the newly transplanted heart fills with blood.

Then, it starts to beat.

Your eyes meet Taehyung’s, and you can see his smile even under the mask, your brain filling in the parts of his face you know so well.

You’re smiling back.

You think everything’s going to be all right.

***

It’s a couple hours later, when you’ve dropped off the patient on the ICU, and are heading to the locker room, that you hear your name called.

It’s Taehyung, a line on his forehead from where he was wearing a scrubs hat all day, eyes a little bloodshot from fatigue, and still the most beautiful thing you’ve seen this Christmas. 

He stops in front of you, there’s a moment of silence and then both of you speak at once.

You both stop, and you reach for his hand.

‘Do you want to grab some food?’ you ask. 

‘Like a date?’ Taehyung asks, but he’s lit up like a Christmas tree so you think he already knows.

‘Yeah, like a date,’ you say.

The way he’s looking at you makes you wonder why the hell you waited so long.

‘There’s nothing I’d like more,’ he says. 

He knits his fingers through yours, gently, and you walk down through the hospital together.

end.

Happy holidays! Take it easy. Love, Rei xx

[allsadnshit]

It's so wild to me that people will get filler and Botox and do like 30 step skincare routines but refuse to stop drinking and vaping etc cause I had such a good FaceTime with my dad today and like not only is he showing up so different and attentive and strong and clear as a father now that he's sober but he looked so good and I kind of can't stop thinking about how he's in his 60's and has always had a bad complexion and after a year of not drinking and doing yoga and therapy he literally looks like a decade younger and I think it's such a scam people push plastic surgery and expensive skincare on us as a society and yet not a soul is suggesting that maybe the best thing for our health is not poisoning ourselves

Like so many of my loved ones are heavy drinkers (have at least one drink most days, heavier on weekends) and have problems with their immune system and get sick really easily which can def be affected by so many factors but like it's just crazy to see an alcoholic who's literally been in my life since the beginning get sober and be like wow it's not just a matter of addiction and substance it was like actually not letting his body function at it's true capacity

Like I wonder how many of us walk around drinking and smoking and then wondering why we have early hair thinning problems, dull skin, and constantly catching colds and flues while we actively destroy our immune system

Like we all know alcohol lowers our immune systems ability to fight and be strong and do its job but it's so amazing to actually see someone you love get healthier than you've ever seen them

Even though I've been sober for a few years now too it does really inspire me that it's worth the trouble not just emotionally and mentally but physically too in so many ways!!!!

[waittheydontloveyou]

Here have my brain

1. Piper says hi. Mostly I call him ‘kitty’ or ‘kee kee’. He sleeps and lays on me all the time. It feels like I have a sweet lil baby again and it’s kinda nice yall. We think he’s 2 months old now.

2. My face has been more dry/peely/red lately. Not sure if it’s the kitten or just my lack of self care honestly. It’s not new but it is worse. I have what I think is rosacea or eccema or both. I know my skin does better under different eating conditions and was absolutely perfect when I did keto a million years ago. But lol no

3. Trying ozempic. Just got week 5’s shot. Slowly losing weight. A few pounds a week. (I’m down 21lbs total🎉 just like 80-100 to go🤣 god that’s depressing). I feel like I can tell a difference in my stomach but i said that and the next day a patient asked me if I was pregnant so maybe I’m just imagining it🤣(this is a recurring thing, people asking me if I’m pregnant since gaining weight. It’s all in the very best place to store fat. My belly😒) sometimes I lie and tell people yes I’m pregnant bc I don’t want them to feel embarrassed for me. 🤦🏻‍♀️🤣 like when it’s a patient and imma have to deal with them all night it’s sometimes easier to just say yes so they’re not all weird for 12 more hours) anyways I’m 28 weeks and it’s a girl and her name will be Polly. (Lol jk)

Pros: appetite is that of a human. Portion control is done for me. Like I don’t even want to eat more than when I feel full. I FEEL full. Haven’t felt that in years since starting depression meds 11 years ago. I’m less nauseated than before starting it, I’m guessing bc I’m prediabetic and my blood sugars were shit.

Cons: literally none for me so far. I was nervous re nausea bc I was already struggling with that before. But it’s improved it. I still get nauseas sometimes but it’s even less than prior to starting the med. I started off at the lowest ever dose (4 units- max is 45 I think). Todays dose I did 8 for the second week. Nice to know when/if things are stagnate I can move up. Im doing this in place of weight loss surgery for now.

4. Weight loss surgery. I went to my appointment last week and honestly it scared the crap out of me. They were trying to rush it and make you sign contracts stating you’ll get a cardiologist, pulmonologist, nutritionist, psych, surgeon all to meet you and then monthly until your surgery and then see psych and nutritionist and them after and if you don’t you’re off the list and have to start over. Also I have to stop vaping and they test you and lol I’m here bc I have no self control lol. Also I couldn’t afford it. The only way I can afford the ozempic bc my friend is an NP and gets it for me.

5. I straightened up some and showered today. Where’s my prize?

[theheartofappalachia]

Here I am, sitting in a parking lot writing about the past few days. My mamaw just got out of surgery and is still in ICU and thank the gods for the hospital having power. I came up here to get gas, signal and charge my phone and hopped on tumblr and reddit for a few just trying to get my mind off things....

And what do I see? Politics about this disaster and people only caring about Asheville fucking everywhere. Listen, Asheville wasn't the only place hit in this storm and North Carolina wasn't the only state and for those of us in Virginia, Tennessee and southern West Virginia it's starting to get real goddamn irritating seeing yall only talk about North Carolina and even then you're only talking about it because Asheville is an urban tourist center therefore it's getting media coverage.

Fuck those poor bastards that live up the hollers and in the hills away from town right? 37 trees. I've cut 37 trees off of houses in the past 4 days(one of them being my own) and while the power flickered on for a second today, it's still out. People's food is ruined, we're shitting in holes in the ground because indoor plumbing doesn't work without power(and hauling buckets of water to flush isn't feasible for some people). You think we can afford to just replace a fridge or freezer full of food? It's not that simple, not in this economy.

Insurance? Yeah we live in old houses that Insurance won't cover to begin with unless we do thousands of dollars worth of upgrades and then many who have insurance are being denied. Yall say FEMA covers it? What a joke. FEMA is great for what it can do but it doesn't replace houses, nor does it give out lots of money.

Nobody cares about your fucking politics. I haven't seen one politician in the mud with us. Nobody cares about voting right now. This isn't the time regardless of what you idiots say. Read the fucking room. We deserve this because of how we vote? Fuck you, again. Stop being high and mighty and come help instead of sitting back with your vape in your hand going "Kamala will fix this" or "Trump will send all the aid" or "Biden is going to rescue everyone". Newsflash, none of them give a shit.

People are legitimately downvoting those of us who live in these areas on r/Appalachia because we're saying stop bringing politics into it or please stop saying you're upset that your vacation spot is gone. Ya'll tag shit Appalachia left and right now yet you didn't give a fuck about us before unless it was to say how pretty our leaves are as you go camping for a weekend and leave your trash laying around....and you'll forget about us the next time a big news story hits.

I've gotta get away from social media for a while. What I thought would take my mind off the roughest time of my life did nothing but make me hate people.

[magicisrealandsoismyally]

Been seeing a lot of this going around so I just figured I'd write about it. You do realize that people having their full bodily autonomy to make choices for themselves means they're going to make choices you don't like right?

People will do things that hurt themselves and that will never be a reason to take away their right to bodily autonomy.

People have the right to get piercings, to get tattoos, to get a nose job, to get a face lift, to get top/bottom surgery.

People are going to drink energy drinks, to drink coffee, to smoke weed and cigarettes, to vape, to do hallucinogenics, to take opioids.

People are going to hurt themselves. You cannot stop that by taking away their right to have the tools to do it. Because they'll just find it some place worse. When I was young, I went onto transphobic forums and sites because I hated myself and decided I should feel emotional pain. I also took way too long way too hot showers. My parents took away both. So I started getting far too close to fire for my own good.

The only solution is to give them both the tools to do it and the tools to stop. The Swiss and the French figured it out with opioid addiction recovery and it worked. It's called the Safe Supply movement. It works.

You don't get to decide what's okay for people to do with their freedom if it doesn't harm others. All you can do is guide them towards better choices, which is proven more effective anyways.

And if you still want to punish people for drugs, sh, and bdsm, then the only thing I have left to say to you is this:

It's not fine for 2 consenting adults to hurt each other in an agreed upon fashion, but it's fine for you to hurt people cause you don't like their choices? Don't kid yourself. The real predator is you. At least we consent to power dynamics.

[softlittleheartsandsparkles]

age regressors: omg dni if you post: ed/thinspo/self harm. cause those aren't good coping strategies (okay true... But I'm feeling like public age regression is also NOT healthy at this point.) Age regressors: omg don't reblog bras because like those are sexual cause they go on your sex parts! (um...? my what parts. So.. are you saying then mammograms are sexual? ultra sounds? breast biopsies? breast surgeries...? bruh wtf) & also they are scary and they totally heighten my experience of age dysphoria!! So please don't!!! I'm a baby! protect me! Age regressions: oh yeah! we should totally normalize smoking, vaping, weed, drinking, tattoos and piercings! cause cute babies need this stuffs! (the only reason why I highlight this one is these are things adults legally can do, however they have fucking hissy fits over BRAS, which is something people in their teens and preteens wear and need.... but like, omg one is for sex parts! there for its sexual! but like yeah nipple piercing? cool uwu thats totally a baby thing! you do you baby! its baby safe! uwu; we need to normalize all the baby things!) Age regressions: WHAT this is healthy! okay! Unlike junkies i'm not like shooting up& wasting money on drugs!! and like unlike people who self harm I'm doing so much better!!! and I don't have UGLY scars!!! ... BUT I'm actually coping! oh but don't you dare critique me, I'm actually a baby and I got trauma! & if your say anything mean to me, I'll tell you i'm crying, experiencing *ACTUAL* panic attacks and its not fair and i have trauma! So don't YOU dare. (... you realize that there's maladaptive coping... right? Like this isn't to say its healthy or good, but it's to say there's a term for this& a therapist would point this out to someone who might feel ashamed. Just like if someone went to a therapist and said 'I keep spending money when i'm sad, i've spent over $1000 this month, on things I don't actually want or like or need, i want to stop." - a therapist would say something delicate like: 'okay... well have you heard of maladaptive coping? *Explains what it is* You said you do this when your sad. Would you be curious in trying other methods to emotional regulate...? Lets do this and also can you keep track of the urge to spend and how you emotions are when they pop up okay...? *home work*" - Your also belittling people society has enjoyed belittling for a long time. And these same people are actually aware of the harm there doing to themselves and there bodies, and they feel guilt and shame but it's also hard to stop due to different habits& emotions like fear, not to mention prior treatment from therapy might frighten them off.... Equally those same people, also have trauma. The same word you enjoy yeeting around. They actually *have* it. And those same people, they deserve a lot of respect and more respect then your giving them. These are still people at the end of the day& have families. And your extremely ignorant and fucking rude. So maybe don't use your trauma to kick down others who are unable to defend themselves. Cause trauma isn't an excuse to be an asshole. Thanks.) Same age regression blogs: *reblogs childrens underwear and will go on and on about age dysphoria and how there just coping& age regression is just oh so beautiful& super duper pure and super duper healthy and super duper adorable* Hey! WHY ARE DDLG/ERS FOLLOWING ME! I don't understand!?!1 don't you get it!1!1! there's a BaBy running this blog! I demand baby safe blogs only!! (your 24 years old, posting you 24 going on 2, reblogging kids underwear, and speaking about needing a cg, sfw "spankies" when your "naughty" & you say your a "baby brat", and you need someone to lead you around this 'world'... etc. wtf do you expect? your showing off in the very least is kink, its also borderline fucking uncomfortable stuff like reblogging kids underwear, & Is extremely triggering and wonders into areas I shouldn't have to fucking mention. But oi, your a "baby".)

[rgbflag]

Since I had to stop smoke * I sneak a lil vape pull before bed* cus I’m bout to have a major surgery, I’ve been reeeaaallllyyy on the edge.

But I kinda like it? It forces me to be more present in my body and aware how I react to ppl.

But still a piss cunt

[morning-jellyfish-in-a-teacup]

So about the diet plan I mentioned ... already had to change it. Like I said, I'm a diabetic so changes might need to happen. Yesterday, I woke up with a low blood sugar (like danger low at 37) so I drank half a coke to raise it and used the vape I bought whenever I got hungry.

Well, before going to bed, my sugar dropped again. Finished the coke and that didn't raise it enough so I made a small wrap (tortilla, arugula, cherry tomatos, cucumber, red onion, falafel, feta, olives) and ate that. Then my blood sugar rose and I could go to bed.

So I made a new plan to try and limit my sugar dropping. I'll try fasting every other day as well as I can, but aim for at least 3 days out of the week. Going to try another fast today but we'll see how it goes.

Also still no word from my friend. The hope I've had that we can mend things ... it's basically not here anymore. I sent another text saying if she'd like to meet in person before/after her finals to let me know. Then I started to have another panic attack that things are really done so I sent her that same text through dm's just to make sure she got it. She's having a medical procedure tomorrow and the recovery time is extensive so, even if this wasn't happening, we probably wouldn't be able to see each other over break. I've planned to send her a text to try supporting her after her surgery ... and I might need to call it there. I literally don't know what else I can do to try mending things. Meeting in person last week seems like a huge mistake, it's made a bad situation even worse and just caused more misunderstandings. She's told me before that she can cut people out of life easily if she feels abandoned and like they aren't trying, hence why I've been trying like I've never fucking tried before to fix this. But now it seems like she's the one that stopped.

[residentdormouse]

Positively Pleasant ‘P’ Words Tag Game

Upon predicting the password to procure the pined after prose, I’m pondering the paradoxical feeling of pride and perturbation. Perhaps this puzzlement proves the philosophical predicament of whether perpetually pushing for pleasurable pursuits only pollutes our ability to perceive the peace provided from our passing progress. Maybe proportional precaution is needed to prolong preoccupation before its purpose pales against the prize.

(AKA, I found the word, but now there’s no other side quests to focus on. 😂)

My words: Past, Power, Present, Pull, Print

Your Words: Quick, Quiet, Quirky, Quaint, Quote

(@mrsmungus - Apologies if there are goose eggs; I tried to pick ones I could find myself, but it’s ‘q’ - we knew this time would come.)

Past

“I don’t understand. He’s smart, and funny, and has so much potential… Why is he making choices to sabotage himself, and… I just… ” she let out a frustrated shout, unable to put the rest of her thoughts to the adequate words.

They walked for a bit longer in silence until Nick stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He pulled back out his pad and wrote out another note, slower, more thought put into this message.

‘The world isn’t kind. You fight back against it or blend in until it becomes who you are too.’

She nodded with a sigh. The idea was insightful, and she couldn’t argue with it; it actually made a lot of sense the more she mulled it over. Harold had many times made the comment about his past, how he had been regarded, his treatment from peers and even family. Maybe that was who he became now too, but she truly hoped not.

Power

Further dream discussion took off. Were there drugs that could help? Could there be a way to block this? There were no answers, only another point nobody had touched yet, one which Glen felt a need to chime in on: did they want to?

"It seems to me, we're getting set up in a tug of war. Whether it's good vs evil, judgment day, powers higher than us playing a game, who's to say… What is clear to me: there's a protagonist and an antagonist forming, and these dreams, they’re giving us background. We take that away… well then, we're just opting to play the game blindfolded. Now, can’t speak for any of you, but personally I'd like to read the premise before making moves. Maybe, I don't know, maybe there’s something useful buried there."

Harold scoffed at the idea. "So you're saying what? Our dreams are relaying vital information so we can, what, fight for God or the Devil?"

"I'm saying I don't know. But I’d like to.” Harold scrunched up his face, still not giving it any real consideration. Glen took a couple more puffs from his vape, and pressed on with a light chuckle, "I think I know what your problem is, Harold."

"Glen…" Stu tried to give a warning to not poke the bear. Glen never knew how to listen to that instinct however.

Present

(Possible gore tag, but I had to. It not only has Present, but Past and Pull too.)

Maybe Hayden did have a history in medicine; as she stated, there was no way to know. But to do an invasive surgery without even remembering those past experiences? That wasn’t even touching the fact there was only a small possibility it was there in the first place.

That was just the basic facts. The little things, the barely visible shimmer of light in the cavity, the way muscles and skin seemed to move away or pull together on their own milliseconds before Hayden’s hands got there, how these events coincided with a distinct drain to her... If he wasn’t already looking for irregular things, these would have been dismissed. Tricks of light. But they were too far into the unknown to turn back now, and his eyes were open.

He wanted to ask her about everything. Not necessarily the past; she would only give him the same sad smile and shrug as she always did. But her thoughts at the time… Did she see what he did? Did she know?

The ordeal was clearly taxing on her, so he was fine to leave it on the back burner for now, but he couldn’t unsee what he saw. By the tree earlier, she wasn’t completely present. His mind equated it to a dimmer switch and she was set to low. If she wasn’t actively on his mind, he would have completely overlooked her sitting there. The differences between the girl he met on the trail that first day, and the one sitting by that tree; he couldn't explain it, but he would certainly not forget it.

No, she was a puzzle with too many missing pieces, but he was good at filling in blanks.

Pull

(I had a decent excerpt from earlier in Chapter 9 - one of my personal favorites for reasons - but then I went down a little further and noticed there are FOUR uses of Pull in this Harold dream. FOUR! I feel I need to now post this in shame for my lack of variance.)

Harold pushed himself up off the pavement. Blood lingered in his mouth, and he spit it off to the side of the road. The asshole with a beard threw a punch, but Harold felt a pull backwards.

Beard tried to steady himself as a gun appeared in Harold's hand. He held it up and pulled the trigger. One threat down. Scruffy douche bag to his right was an easy target. Another neutralized. One more to go.

A shot rang in his ears, but it missed by a mile. He spun and quickly pulled the trigger on the third assailant; three for three.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

Harold nodded. Moving to hand the gun back to Flagg, he noticed the man's expression had changed, eyes adopting a red glow and his smile widening. His hand now moved over Harold’s own, taking aim for him. The movement was quick, fluid, and when the dark man pulled back, Harold’s aim was now set on Redman. "Keep it."

Looking back one last time, Harold could now longer see the denim clad figure, but he could still hear his voice. "You may find a use for it."

Harold went to tighten his grip on the item, but his hand closed further into a fist. The gun was gone, but as he slowly relinquished his grasp, a black stone with an unnatural shine revealed itself in his palm. A real smile found its way onto Harold’s face.

Print

(I was decently worried about this one. There are only two times this has showed up, and one was literally the last section of Spiral, so guess this is all I got…)

Sitting at the desk, she made herself comfortable and grabbed a pen. Nobody could really miss one blank book in a cottage full of hundreds, and she felt like doodling. But this one was not longer blank. Quickly scanning the pages, she noticed it was all observations she had. Specifically about Glen.

When she closed the book and turned it over, she noticed his name beautifully written along the spine. Standing in a rush, she began to scan the room again. Another book lay next to Glen's; 'Stuart Redman' was written in bright lettering.

She backed away and noticed the previously blank canvas on the wall was now an acrylic painting of Kojak; the signature H.F. was printed in the bottom corner. Another hastily done paper sketch of her, Glen, and Kojak was pinned next to it.

Turning to her left, she stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed the dark painting sitting on the floor by the door. Blacks, grays, and two bright red eyes. 'Flagg' scrawled across the bottom in blood red calligraphy.

[watermelonlovershigh]

My aunt got diagnosed with lung cancer that was late to be diagnosed and now traveled to her throat. She smoked over a pack of cigarettes a day. So the lesson you should take from this is, don't smoke kids. You could end up with lung cancer and die.///Yep my mom's lung cancer was caught early and had surgery but she already had a tumor in her throat. She even stopped smoking when i was 13 and still died from it 2 years ago.

Oh wow i'm sorry. See my aunt, who's been married to my mom's half brother for 30 years or more, kept being misdiagnosed last year because they didn't look into her issues further. They kept putting it off as covid and then bronchitis because she was having breathing issues and it was taking her forever to get better from sicknesses. She finally went to a doctor that looked further into her issues and that's when she got diagnosed. She's going to MD Anderson in Texas next week because it's one of the top cancer hospital in the country.

She was never scared of smoking because she claimed to have an uncle who lived to 100 and smoked every day of his life. I feel like when people do get lung cancer from smoking its out of pure luck, or unluck i should say. Because i have known people to lived a long time as a smoker. But then again others do not. So i just say don't smoke to begin with.

Especially all these teens and young adults who smoke vapes. I'd never even try those because i feel like i have a very addicted trait about me where i know if i get addicted to something i would struggle to stop.

[spark1edog]

re: last rb i have to try and recount this year bc i am straight up Unsure

january

started 2nd term, had class with my ex

started zoloft again

february

i think i contacted the surgery center around here but im not sure

march

i literally don’t know i would have to do some digging

april

built monster hrt 4 you dot neocities dot com

i think i was getting my top surgery plans in place

may

started amusement park job

quit amusement park job

turned 23, i don’t remember if i did much or anything for my bday

started at build a bear

june

i think there was an art show in here somewhere

july

camping trip :)

august

3rd term, kind of a throwaway

september

4 year anniversary with partner but other tha. that i have no idea, probably just working and school

october

stopped vaping

art show

halloween

passed my class

november

top surgery; recovery

december

tired :(

[candaceandbentleysgreatadventure]

It’s been 2 and a half years….

Let me catch you up. I FINALLY quit vaping and have been off nicotine for almost 2.5 years. I went an entire year and a half without cannabis. I lost some so called friends. I got diagnosed with diabetes. I got pregnant and gave birth to the most beautiful little girl. I bought a car. I started a small business. I had gallbladder surgery. My grandma died. Life.

Losing my grandma and having a surgery all within a week has literally rocked my shit. I usually shake things off pretty fast. I am struggling this time. People close to me have started noticing. I’m having nightmares and I have paranoia and anxiety. I’m so overwhelmed and tired.

And. For the first time in probably almost 3 years… I want to get high. Not blazed on pot high, I wanna get ripped on the opiates. I had to get weaned off those bad boys not even two weeks ago. Docs had me on dilauded which happens to be my DOC and fentanyl to manage post surgery pain.

What’s stopping me? The precious little life beside me sleeping peacefully. So we stay put, we choose life, we choose her, because even tho things are a little dark and twisty her little smile can brighten up anything.

Hi my name is Candace and I’m still a fucking addict. 8 yrs and 11 months.

[izzysbeans]

i live in europe and i don't have to tell you that here, things like being addicted to caffeine, smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol regularly are highly glamourized. Let me prefis this by saying that i do not believe ANY of these things are good for you but also that is not the point i'll be attempting to make in this post, because i believe all consenting adults have every right to inform themselves and pick their own poison. What i wanted to talk about was vaping. NOW LET ME BE VERY VERY CLEAR I DO NOT THINK VAPING IS IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM GOOD FOR YOU. But people here seem to be under the impression that vaping is waaaay worse then cigarettes or alcohol. like that little mint flavored machine with varing amounts of nicotine will cause lung cancer faster then the 30 cigarettes a day you've been smoking for the past 20 years. It is very normalized here for people to smoke cigarettes, i smoked my first cigarette when i was 12. Now i am by no means an expert, and i know that prohibiting young people from doing things has never been a good way to stop them from doing them, and people should absolutely be informed of what they're doing when it comes to anything potentially addicting. But this idea that it's very glam and "old money" and "classy" to smoke cigarettes, but then vaping is really bad for you and you're going to DIE, and like drinking 5/6 espressos a day is normal and cool but drinking a redbull or a monster energy is EVIL, and like alcohol is just totally fine all the time is like ??? I don't know dude i feel like that's really weird and another instance of just rich people trying to differentiate themselves from the poor like vaping was fine when it was expensive and new and it seemed like it wasn't nearly as bad as cigarettes but now that everyone can buy a vape from a vending machine and a lot of very young people are vaping so much they end up in the hospital for it all of a sudden it's the worst thing that's ever happened and we're back to cigarettes like ??? again, none of these things are good for you. But i feel like this has been one of those things like plastic surgery were getting things done got really popular and the market expanded to people who weren't as rich and so rich people went back to all natural again. idk I'd love to here your thoughts about this and also if you're a scientist and know things I don't about vaping vs cigarettes and coffee vs energy drinks ecc I'm really interested

[thateclecticbitch]

I work at a youth center which specifically helps teens and young adults recover from addictions. If for no other reason, don't start smoking, or please quit smoking, because these tobacco and vape companies are predatory as hell. Because they prey on people with anxiety and ADHD, on people of color, on LGBT people, especially trans people, on literal children.

Dont believe me? Think about why tobacco companies advertise their products as being beneficial for anxiety and focus. Think about why in black neighborhoods, you see more gas stations than grocery stores. Think about why tobacco companies have been sponsoring pride parades since the 90s. Think about why vape companies would make vape products in fun flavors like bubble gum and strawberry. Big Tobacco and Vape is not your friend, it's the kid at school who promises to be your friend if you just buy them enough stuff.

You may think it makes you look cool now, but there is nothing "cool" about gum disease and loosing teeth (and you WILL wish you had taken better care of them when you are older), asthma, going through chemo and surgery to treat lung and throat cancer, or early heart disease, and going into thousands or millions in debt for it.

"I've already raised my risk. Why stop?" Because while it's not as good as never having smoked in the first place, your risk of getting the terrible diseases from smoking decreases dramatically and immediately after you start quitting. You will see tangible benefits within days. Do not let the sunk cost fallacy prevent you from quitting. There are recovery programs out there that will help you. Support groups with people just like you who know what it's like. It's going to be hard as hell, you will probably need to try again and again, and I believe in you.

A lot of younger people have no idea what aging actually looks and feels like, and the reasons behind it. That ignorance is so dangerous. If you don’t want to “be old,” you aren’t talking about a number of years. I have patients in their late 80s who could still handily beat me in a race—one couple still runs marathons together, in their late 80s—and I lost someone who was in her early 60s to COPD last year. What you want is not youth, it is health.

If you want to still be able to enjoy doing things in your 60s and 70s and 80s and even 90s, what you want to do, right now, is quit smoking, get some activity on a regular basis (a couple of walks a week is WAY better for you than nothing; increasing from 1 hour a day of cardio to 1.5 will buy you very little), and eat some plants. That’s it. No magic to it. No secret weird tricks. Don’t poison yourself, move around so your body doesn’t forget how, and eat plants.

If you have trouble moving around now because of mobility limitations, bad news: you still need to move around, not because it’s immoral not to, but because that’s still the best advice we have. I highly recommend looking up the Sit and Be Fit series; it is freely available and has exercises that can be done in a chair, which are suitable for people with limited mobility or poor balance. POTS sufferers, I’m looking at you.

If you have trouble eating plants because of dietary issues (they cause gas, etc.) or just because they’re bitter (super taster with texture issues here!), bad news. You still want to find a way to get some plants into your body on a regular basis. I know. It sucks. The only way I can do it is restaurants—they can make salads taste like food. I can also tolerate some bagged salads. On bad weeks, the OCD with contamination focus gets so bad I just can’t. However, canned beans always seem “safe,” and they taste a bit like candy, so they’re a good fallback.

If you smoke and you have tried quitting a million times and you’re just not ready to, bad news. You still need to quit. Your body needs you to try and keep trying. Your brain needs it, too. Damaging small blood vessels racks up cumulative damage over time that your body can start trying to reverse as soon as you quit. I know it’s insanely, absurdly addictive. You still need to.

You cannot rules lawyer your way past your body’s basic needs. It needs food, sleep, activity, and the absence of poison. Those are both small things and big asks. You cannot sustain a routine based on punishment, so don’t punish your body. Find ways to include these things that are enjoyable and rewarding instead. Experiment. There is no reason not to experiment—you don’t have to know instantly what’s going to work for you and what won’t, you just need to be willing to try things and make changes when things aren’t working for you.

You will still age. Your body will stop making collagen and elastin. Tissues you can see and tissues you can’t see will both sag. Cushioning tissues under your skin will get thinner. You’ll bruise more easily. Skin will tear more easily. Accumulated sun damage will start to show more and more. Joints will begin to show arthritis. Tendons and ligaments will get weaker and get injured more easily, as will muscles. Bones will lose mass and get easier to break. You’ll get tired more easily.

But you know what makes the difference between being dead, or as good as, in your 60s vs your 90s? Activity, plants, and quitting smoking. And don’t do meth. Saw a 58-year-old guy this week who is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t quit whatever stimulant he’s on. I pretended to believe it was just the cigarettes, and maybe it is, but meth and cocaine will kill you quicker. Stop poisoning yourself.

Baby steps; take it one step at a time; you don’t need to have everything figured out right now. But you do need to be working on figuring things out.

[new-year-tiny-me]

My experience with semaglutide:

i started taking it back in early September (I am not diabetic, but was prescribed it by my PCP because of my PCOS symptoms). As someone who has struggled with BED and binge/restrict cycles for the majority of my life, it was an absolute godsend. i don’t know how to explain it other than it finally quieted all the food noise that is constantly going on in my head. i’m now just never really hungry and never really even think about food and that’s crazy for me because every minute of every day for as long as i can remember i was only ever thinking about food and weight and my body. the only side effect i really experienced was nausea every once in a while, but for the most part it has made my life so much better. the weight just melted off. it was like i would just wake up and suddenly my clothes were falling off of me. i’ve struggled with my weight my whole life because of PCOS and other hormonal imbalances and my weight hasn’t been this low since i was in elementary school. and it was effortless. i didn’t need to change anything about my lifestyle. i ate exactly what i was eating before (i was always a healthy eater when it came to my meals, it was just the binges that were usually unhealthy, processed foods) except i didn’t binge. not once. i have no desire to. i’m genuinely always full it’s crazy. i forget to eat more often than not and when i do eat, it takes me so long to do it that im actually enjoying all of the food i eat and getting full before i can finish any meal. i’m truly savoring food and enjoying meals now. this is how i imagine life is like for those people who “forget to eat” or just naturally don’t really have an appetite. i’ve saved so much money on grocery shopping and eating out. my skin completely cleared up. i probably should have been exercising and would probably be a lot more toned, but other than that my body looks great. i’ve lost 45 lbs since i started and i plan on losing at least 10-20 lbs more (i haven’t taken it in about 3 weeks because i just had surgery and have been recovering, so i’ve just been maintaining for now, but will start again today). i know there’s a lot of controversy surrounding it, but as someone who’s been on it for six months, i can say that i’ve only had a positive experience with it and am so incredibly thankful for it. i’ve also stopped vaping, don’t drink alcohol as much as i used to and don’t really drink caffeine anymore, and that was all unintentional. i just didn’t want to do those things anymore. (my doctor says there’s actually research being done that shows it can help people with serious addictions). i would not be surprised if in the near future semaglutide is used to treat BED in tandem with therapy bc the way it just quiets the binge monster in the brain is unreal. i’m so privileged to have been able to have access to it and have had the results i’ve had. it has been nothing short of life saving for me.