#i know ive gained weight since i last saw them and ive started body checking again

[fanfic-cave]

Abandoned

Rating: SFW/PG-13 (although theres kissing and stuff if you dont want to read that in public)

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC

Warnings: Angst, fighting and arguing, talks about order 66/jedi being killed, making out it gets a little heated ya’ll

Summary: Hunter has discovered Sera's intentions to abandon the team and leave. The have an argument, amongst other things. Does she stay, or will she leave the bad batch for good?

Authors note: More OC stuff, I just get scenes in my head and I have to write them out. This is the furthest ahead ive gotten in the story I think. I have ideas of other things (which kinda get hinted at here), but im not sure how exactly I want to accomplish them.

Be sure to check out my post and put in your 2 cents on what I should write next!

Tags: @mangoberry99

You walked into the small, dark room, with Hunter right on your heels. He was definitely mad at you.

You tightened the mask on your face, and kept your hood up. Hunter switched the lights on and shut the door. “You were going to leave?” Hunters voice was raised, practically growling. He whipped around to look at you, his eyebrows arched and nostrils flaring. Yup. Pissed.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” You folded your arms defensively. “Just cause you’re a Jedi?” Hunter spoke loudly. “You owe us an explanation.” Somehow you thought Hunter really meant that you owed him an explanation.

You turned your face away, saying nothing. You didn’t feel obliged to share anything, you just wanted to retreat and hide like you always had. Hunters mouth turned down into a frown, and you could tell he was getting more upset. “I hate to break it to you, but being a Jedi doesn’t make you more special or different than the rest of us-"

“Hold on a damn minute-" you interjected, uncrossing your arms.

“And you don’t get to shut us out just because you are one.” He spat it out and you felt your face heat up with anger. “You were going to go without saying goodbye, Sera. You realized how messed up that is?” He was yelling now.

“I told you, you wouldn’t understand!” You yelled back. Your hands balled up into fists.

“No, I don’t! How could you befriend us, gain our trust, and just leave? Omega-"

“Don’t.” you interrupted before he could finish. Your voice had lowered in pitch, but it was loud and it echoed around the room. “Don’t bring her into this.” You were doing this to protect them, especially her. You didn’t want him to guilt trip you by using her.

“It would’ve destroyed her. You can’t face that? That you were going to abandon her?”

“You have no right-!” You turned to face him, pointing a finger at him and walking up to him.

“Take that damn thing off.” Hunter said. You froze. You knew he was referring to the mask. He stared at you with a hard look on his face, still fuming with anger. “I said take it off.” He ordered.

You yanked it off and threw it at his feet, hoping to hit his foot. He easily moved his left foot to avoid getting hit. “Happy?” You threw up your hands as you said it, venom laced in your tone. Your mask felt like your defense, a protection. You felt safe with it, and you had worn it since abandoning the clone wars and the Jedi order. You felt too vulnerable and exposed without it right now.

“Don’t lecture me, I know what I was doing, and I-" your voice cracked. You took a step back and took a breath. “I thought it was better than the alternative.” Your voice was quieter now. You looked down, then you turned around, your back to him. You didn’t want to see him, to face him. You placed your hands on the table in front of you, leaning forward and taking slow deep breaths.

“How would that be better?” Hunter's voice was lower in volume, matching yours. He seemed upset, but not angry anymore. He sounded hurt, or maybe sad.

You finished another deep breath. “The Jedi are being hunted down. I can only hide for so long.” Your voice was much quieter now, barely above a whisper. You felt weight on your chest as you said it. You crossed your arms and hugged yourself, trying to squeeze away the tight feeling in your chest. Once you started, you couldn’t stop. “I could feel it when the Jedi were killed, Hunter. Thousands of voices being silenced. And now, I can feel it.” Hunter waited for you to finish. “The Empire knows there are hidden Jedi across the galaxy, and they’re going to come and find us.”

You turned to face him, tears in your eyes. Hunter looked worried as he listened to you, watching your movements. “If you’re with me, you could all be killed.” You choked out the last part, the tears coming out. You covered your mouth with your hands, trying to hold in the cries that escaped your mouth.

You squeezed your eyes tight and couldn’t see, but you felt arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you in. You received the hug and wrapped your arms around Hunters torso, then buried your face into his chest. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, the sobbing escaping you, ripping through your chest.

“Shh,” Hunter quietly began comforting you. You felt his hand stroking your hair, the other arm squeezing you tight against him. You held onto him as you cried, like holding him would help you hold yourself together.

You stayed there for a minute, quietly sobbing while Hunter stroked your hair and quieted your cries. After a minute had passed, he spoke. “You remember what I told you when we found out you were a Jedi?” He paused and you waited quietly, tears still rolling down your cheeks. “I said we would protect you.” You had stopped sobbing, and you took shaky breaths in and out.

You felt him kiss the top of your head. You pulled away from his chest to look up at him. He wiped the tears out of your eyes with his thumb. “I promise, I won’t let the Empire kill you,” he had grabbed your chin, and looked into your eyes with intensity as he spoke. You smiled at his optimism. Normally you might argue that he couldn’t guarantee that, but he looked so set in his decision. You didn’t think you could persuade him otherwise.

He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, and you met him halfway, enjoying the moment of closeness. You felt like he was grounding you, keeping you here in the moment instead of fearing for the future. “Is this okay?” You felt his breath hit your face as he spoke. It was warm, and he smelled nice. You nodded. He squeezed you around the waist and pulled you in tighter, your hips now touching.

You felt your heart skip a beat. You two had never been quite this affectionate. You had an idea that Hunter might feel something more than friendship towards you. There had been moments, exchanged glances, lingering touches. Conversation where you both opened up, and had been vulnerable with each other. You already knew how you felt, but never were quite sure where exactly he stood.

You opened your eyes, and examined his face. You could see details that you couldn’t make out without being this close. The details in his tattoos, the shape of his eyes, of his face, his mouth. You felt yourself become more brave. You tilted your face to the right, your nose skimming past his. His lips were not even an inch away from yours now.

You saw Hunter's eyes open, and he was watching you. You waited, not wanting to advance more without permission. You held eye contact for a moment. He looked at you questioningly, processing what you were doing. You waited for him to pull away or come closer. You quietly froze there, the two of you only breathing and examining each other in your closeness, neither of you sure what would happen. You found yourself getting lost in his brown eyes for that short moment.

Suddenly Hunters lips were against yours, his hand at the back of your neck, fingers reaching into your hair. You breathed in through your nose, and your bodies began to move together. You felt yourself rise up to your toes to reach him, to get closer. Your arms were still wrapped around his torso, and you pulled yourself closer to him, just as his other hand gently pushed you in from the small of your back, trying to close every gap between your bodies.

After a minute, Hunter pulled away to allow yourselves a second to breath. He studied your face, like he was trying to memorize it. “It’s about damn time.” You said between breaths, and he laughed. His eyes seemed to light up with excitement. You reached up to his neck and brought him back in. You felt a burning in your chest as you continued kissing him. You wrapped your fingers around his biceps, and began to push him towards the nearest wall. He let you move him, his arms around your waist, making sure you came right along with him. You went back up on your toes, reaching to kiss him.

Hunters hands shifted away from you, then you felt them grab you underneath your thighs. You were suddenly lifted up, your legs reflexively wrapping around him. You gasped and broke from the kiss, holding onto him to keep yourself from falling.

“I’ve got you.” He spoke confidently, placing one hand on your shoulder as the other fully held you up. Then, he took a few steps and set you down on the table. Your face was now an even height with his. You made a face “You think I’m too short to kiss you?” You huffed out. Hunter smiled and said “You are kinda short-“

“Oh shut up.” You grabbed his shoulders and forcefully brought him back in. You tightened your legs on him, as if trying to lock him in place. He had one hand on your hip, the other touched the back of your shoulder where your bare skin was exposed. It felt like a fire was ignited where his fingertips met your skin. Hunter broke away and planted kisses on your cheek, then he moved to your jaw. You felt yourself reach at his shirt on his back, tempted to start pulling at it. You felt intoxicated by the moment, drinking in the bliss you felt as his kisses moved to your neck.

Wait. How did I get here again?

You released him and pulled away gently as the thought crossed your mind. Hunter stopped and took a step back from you, being sure to give you space if you wanted it. Your legs no longer were wrapped around him, you sat on the table and Hunter stood just a foot away from you. “Did I overstep?” Hunter asked. He watched you carefully, concern written all over his face.

“No, no I loved that Hunter,” you reached your hand out and grabbed his. You gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just trying to process. Weren’t we just fighting?” You looked back up at him. He looked up, trying to recall the events. “Right, and then you were crying-“

“And now we’re kissing.” You laughed and shook your head. “That really escalated huh?” You looked back up to him as you spoke. Hunter was smiling, he looked genuinely happy.

You ran your hand through your hair, your braid now very much messed up. You began to undo it. Hunters smile faded and his eyebrows knitted together.

“What is it?” You asked.

“You won’t leave, right?” He asked, the brooding expression you were all too familiar with was set back onto his face.

“Oh.” Right, I was going to leave. You felt your heart squeeze. “No, I don’t think I will.” You said after thinking. Hunter sighed in relief. “Good.” He approached you again, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Oh, you wouldn’t let me?” Like he could stop me. You kept that thought in your head.

“No.” He spoke firmly. His eyes locked with yours, and he looked determined. “I know the empire is hunting down the last of the Jedi, but we’re not exactly on good terms with them either.” You listened as he spoke.

“I don’t like the thought of you trying to survive on your own. I’ve always had my brothers, and having a squad, or a family, to rely on has gotten us all through it. I want you to rely on us, let us help you.” He put a hand on your cheek as he finished, and leaned in closer to you. He looked almost sad as he said it. You realized if he really cared about you, the thought of you leaving must hurt as much as leaving him would’ve hurt you.

You took a deep breath, then spoke. “Since I left the order, and the war, I’ve always been on my own. Having someone to rely on again has been a bit of an adjustment.” Hunter kept his eyes fixed on you, hand still on your cheek. You moved to put your hand on top of his. “I’m still learning how not to run, and I don’t want to run from you.” You squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes. “Honestly, I think I love you.”

Hunters eyes widened a bit as you said it. You smiled and you could feel yourself blushing. Now, though, you weren’t ashamed.

You saw Hunters eyes move to the door and back to you. Then you heard foot steps and Omega calling for Hunter. “I love you too.” He whispered it, and the door opened.

I know. You mouthed it, then slid off the table to stand next to him. You could practically hear him roll his eyes and you smiled.

I don’t think I could leave now. Not even if I wanted to.

[courtofjurdan]

One Chance part 15

Jurdan College AU - previous chapter

masterlist

A/N: I wrote this three times and I think I still hate it. I hope you guys enjoy it and I promise the next one will be better. 

Cardan saw her black out and fall over. He tried his hardest to get to her before she fell, but he was too far away. She fell on her side. Cardan was worried for her and the baby because Jude did have a hard impact with the ground and the side of her stomach took a lot of the blow. 

He turned her over to lie on her back. He took her face in his hands. 

“Jude, baby, wake up, please.” Cardan paused to think. He needs to call an ambulance. He pulls out his phone and dials 911. 

“This is 911, what’s your emergency?” 

Panting, Cardan replied, “My-” small pause then decided he could think of this later. “My girlfriend just fainted. She’s kinda sweaty and hot to the touch. And she’s 16 weeks pregnant.”

“Where are you at?”

“Elfhame University.”

“And did you say pregnant?” 

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay. By any chance can you see any blood between her legs?” 

Cardan looked at her leggings and saw no stains. “No there’s none.” 

“Okay that’s a good sign. Put your hand on her stomach. Can you feel any small movements? You might not since she’s not too far along.”

Cardan did as told and he couldn’t even feel the slightest movement, which started to worry him despite what he’s been told. “No, I don’t feel anything.” 

“Okay. That’s okay. The ambulance is on their way. If someone nearby can get a cold rag to put on her forehead that might help her wake up faster.” 

“Okay.” Cardan looked over his shoulder to find some kids and the professor from their last class standing there. He asked the professor to get what he needed and he did. Cardan placed the rag on her forehead. Cardan thanked the operator and waited for the ambulance.

Jude was sliding in and out of consciousness. Never enough to speak but her eyes would move and then she would go back under. 

Cardan kept one hand on her face and the other hand rubbing gentle circles on her bump. Reassuring her she was going to be okay. 

In ten minutes the paramedics were there and loading her into the ambulance. Cardan followed them in his black mustang. Getting there at the same time she did. He parked and went back into the room with her. Because of their relationship and the fact that she was caring his baby, they let him stay with her. 

She was still out when they got her to the hospital. They started to hook her to a whole bunch of monitors. They put these sticky pads in her chest to monitor her heart rate. They started putting this monitor around her stomach to monitor the baby’s heart rate. They started an IV and gave her fluids. 

Cardan held her hand through all of it. Even though she had no idea. He sat in the chair beside her bed the whole time. They told him everything looked fine. Her’s and the baby’s heart rate were great. Her body just needs rest, she’ll wake up on her own time. Cardan let the sound of his baby momma and baby’s heartbeat lull him to sleep. 

——-

Cardan awoke to his hand being moved. That means Jude is starting to wake. He opened his eyes and quickly stood onto his feet. Jude was just waking up. He cupped her face into his hand. 

“Hey Jude, how are you feeling?” 

She looked at him confused. Then started to look around. 

“Wh-what happened?” Jude muttered. 

Cardan took his hand off her face. “You passed out in the hallway after you were leaving your class. I saw you fall and I couldn’t get you to wake up so I called 911.”

“The baby?”

Trying to keep down his panic and keep his voice calm for her, “Um, they said the baby is okay but I’m not sure what caused your episode. They were waiting for you to wake up.”

Jude nodded her head. And realized she was holding Cardan’s hand so she took it back abruptly. She had Cardan go get the doctor while all the memories of why she was mad at him flooded back. 

Dr. Tatterfell came into the room. Without Cardan. 

She spoke, “Hey Jude, I’m glad to see you awake. I told Cardan to stay out there unless you want him in here?”

Jude shook her head no. Dr. Tatterfell continued, “We did some blood tests and your blood sugar was really low. Some women can get something called gestational diabetes. We check during the 24-28 week checkup. But you're only 16 weeks so we obviously haven’t checked for it. Some people have it more on the severe side and I would say you are one of them.” she paused. “Have you been feeling much more tired recently?” Jude nodded. “Nausea?” Jude nodded. “Bigger appetite and drinking more?” Jude nodded. “Okay well we can’t take all the symptoms away but we can sure try to manage them.”

“Are there any risks for the baby?” Jude asked hesitantly. 

“They can have low blood sugar when they’re born. They can have jaundice. Pre-term birth. Can have some breathing problems. And you can get high blood pressure which can hurt the baby, try to be as stress free as possible. So If you ever feel off call us immediately.”

Jude shook her head yes. The doctor talked to her about the route of treatment they would go, and some diet changes she can make. After that, Cardan came in while the doctor left.  

Cardan asked, “Are you okay? Is the baby?”

Jude told him the rundown of things. 

“Jude, you should have told me you felt bad. I would have tried to help.”

“Well I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Cardan, or if you’ve had your tongue down to many people's throats, but I’ve been distant.”

Cardan sat down in the chair beside the bed and watched Jude as she rubbed her hand in circles on her bump. 

“I’m sorry, Jude. I forgot who I was. I’m not the kid who mocked and tortured you anymore. I don’t want to be. I messed up, and I messed up bad.”

“Yeah no joke.” She paused. “Cardan I need you. I can’t do all this alone. I can’t raise a kid alone.”

Cardan looked up, voice thick with emotion, “You will never be alone.”

“Let's take a break. I will go back to my dorm.”

“Jude, you can’t stay alone. If I overheard right, the doctor said it was wise for someone to stay with you. I’ll sleep on the couch. You get the bed. I’ll keep to myself.” 

“Okay. But if I get annoyed, I’m leaving.” 

Soon Jude got to go leave. Her body was weak and she just didn’t feel good. Cardan got her back to the dorm and to bed. After that he left to go get Jude some food for her newly formed diet plan. 

————

Cardan helped Jude and was as friendly as he could be. Jude had good days and bad days with him. If she felt bad, she was a butthole. If she felt okay, her attitude was more playful with him. Things were beginning to heal between them. The bitterness was slowly leaving them. It was back to cuddling and playful banter. 

One night watching a movie on the couch, Cardan spoke up, “Jude, are we good? Will we ever be what we used to be? Well we started to be?” 

Jude didn’t know if this was the hormones talking or not, “Yeah Cardan were good. I love you too much to give you up over a mistake. A drunken mistake at that. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay? Then I may not forgive you.”

Cardan chuckled. “Okay. I love you, Jude.” He dropped a kiss to Jude’s head which was laying on his shoulder. 

————

It’s been two weeks, which makes today November 13th. Not only is it Jude’s birthday, but they get to find out the gender of their baby today. Well they won’t find out but the bakery that will make a cake blue or pink cake will find out today. 

They decided to have a small get-together with their friends to reveal the gender. It was Cardan’s idea. Jude just wanted to know at the appointment, but Cardan wanted to have a small party. Jude relented. It can’t be that bad. She just hates surprises. Waiting another day won’t hurt. 

On top of the gender reveal party, Cardan wanted to celebrate Jude’s birthday on the same day, to which she also relented because Cardan’s puppy dog eyes are charming. But she said yes on the behalf Taryn gets celebrated also. 

Jude doesn’t like to celebrate her birthday. The memories of birthday parties as a young kid with her mom and dad are what come to her mind. But Cardan wants to make her birthday different. A happy day. 

They are waiting in the waiting room of the doctor office. Jude has missed the last appointment in being busy which she knows is bad but since she was at the hospital and everything was fine, she saw no need in coming in sooner. 

She is 18 weeks. Almost half way through her pregnancy. Her stomach doesn’t just look like she’s gained weight, it's obvious that she is pregnant. 

She cradles her bump with one hand and holds Cardan’s hand in the other. She is rather anxious for this appointment. She doesn’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, but she is just nervous anyway. 

“Jude Duarte.” 

Cardan gives her a hand and helps her up even though she can get up easy-ish. She goes back and lays down on the table and pulls the hem of her t-shirt up. Dr. Tatterfell comes in.

“Hello, Jude how are you?” 

Jude gives a sweet smile, “I’m doing good. Feeling huge.” 

Dr, Tatterfell laughs at that. “Well, darling, it only gets worse from here. Have you been eating, drinking, and resting well?” 

“Umm yeah I have.”

Dr, Tatterfell gives her a look of disbelief and looks to Cardan, standing beside Jude. 

Cardan clears his throat. “Well she has definitely been eating well. More like raiding my kitchen. Drinking lots of water. The rest is…. complicated. Some days she rests, and other days I can’t get her to stay still. She is stubborn.”

“Yes, I do pick up on that. Jude, rest is very important. You are almost halfway through your pregnancy. You are going to be really tired. Your body is working for two people. With gestational diabetes on top of that, it’s important to rest.” 

Jude nods her head in understanding. Dr. Tatterfell continues with a genuine smile, “Well now, would you like to know the sex of your baby?” 

Cardan and Jude look at each other, Cardan speaks, “We would not. We want to have a gender reveal party to reveal it. So could you put the results in an envelope?”

“Yes I can. I can also give you pictures of the baby today without the gender so it will still be a surprise but you can still have pictures of your baby.” 

They both nod their heads. The doctor squeezes the cold gel into Jude’s bump. Cardan grabs a hold of Jude's hand and they look at the screen together. Jude looks over at Cardan with admiration in her eyes. He shows so much love for someone he hasn’t even met or felt. She loves him for that. 

They look at their baby’s head, nose, arms, fingers and then Dr, Tatterfell asks them to close their eyes for the next part so she can find out the sex. After she’s done, she looks at them both and says, “Congratulations.” 

She prints the photos and the results and puts them in an envelope and gives them the “safe” picture, meaning it doesn’t show the gender. 

She gives Jude a tissue to clean herself off with and says she will see her in a few weeks. Before she leaves the room, Dr. Tatterfell mutters, “Happy Birthday by the way.” 

————

They drop the results off at the bakery and Cardan takes Jude to lunch for her birthday. 

They were walking back to the car when Jude stopped suddenly and put a hand to the side of her stomach. 

Cardan whirls around, “Jude, what’s wrong?” 

Jude grabs his hand and places it  over the spot where their little baby kicked. Realization dawns in Cardan and he muttered quietly, “Did the baby just kick?” 

Jude nodded her head. Cardan’s grin widened. He bent over and kissed the little bump saying, “I love you, little one.” He captured Jude’s lips and walked to the car.

He and Jude watched a movie marathon and went to sleep. They were now sleeping together again. Now that forgiveness was bound. 

They were both excited about tomorrow. Not only was it Jude’s birthday party, but it was the day they would finally learn the gender of their little one.

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[thedankfaerie]

i am posting this here because i am tired of burdening my boyfriend with my feelings. this is a little nsfw. and this is my call for help. i dont know who to talk to anymore about this.

i need someone to hear what i feel

or at least, a free space to say what i feel 

im in a low place. i feel so awful about myself and my body and i hate this feeling. i hate that this time last year, i was so happy about the way i looked. i was working this awful job that had me so overworked and overtired and poorly treated that i skipped meals and slept through meals regularly... i lost so much weight from stress in just a year and was the skinniest i had ever been. mentally, i was not in a good place being exploited by my managers... but my self esteem re: my body was at a new level i never knew could exist for me.

last year, i felt powerful and confident about my body, and i expressed that through sexuality. i was fucking my ex that i still liked (i grew out of wanting him back, but he never did, and it was nice to have the upper hand). i was also fucking an old fwb that i stayed friends with, that was also recently single, so we reunited again at the perfect time. i was also seeing this one guy (now my boyfriend) so if ever i got tired of the sex i at least was able to calm down and settle down with someone who genuinely wanted to know me. of course, i ended up catching feelings for this guy, and cut off the other two to pursue something more serious (we are now dating and are moving in together next month!) anyways, it was so nice to be wanted. to feel... i guess sexy? sex is empowering. and it shouldn’t be taboo to say that as a woman, or anyone really. i dont want to give off the message that a woman’s validation is fueled by men’s desire - but hey, don’t you feel flattered when someone thinks you’re attractive? desire and lust aren’t everything... but they matter. and they have an impact on how you feel about yourself, whether or not you believe me when i say that is up to you. 

 and i hate that i would gladly put myself through the stress that i did just to feel happy about my body. before the summer ended, i finally had enough and i quit my shitty job. i was jobless for a month, but was able to enjoy the rest of the summer with my new ‘skinny’ body - last year i took my first bikini picture ... a 2 piece! i have never done that. i still think about how happy i was that summer to look and feel good about myself. 

i have struggled with self esteem issues since highschool. i always felt like i was too big. i used to follow all these blogs of pretty people and try to copy their poses to feel pretty and i used to spend hours after school trying on short dresses and clothes to stare at my body in the mirror. i used to starve myself to the point of literally wanting to faint on the daily, until finally i admitted it to one of my teachers. she respectfully asked if i wanted to speak with the school guidance counsellor, and i declined. but she encouraged me to speak up to at least a friend, so i did, and it helped, and for a long time, i was okay. after i graduated that teacher still checked up on me for a few years every now and again.

4th year university was when i realized how much i had let myself go. i was the heaviest i had ever been, it was my graduating year, i was looking for a job and was always worried about my grades. every time i was stressed or every time i needed to study i bought pad thai and bubble tea. a ritual. i didnt realize how much that had caught up to me until i saw old pictures of myself. at this point, i started my (shitty) job, straight out of graduation.

i actively avoided scales, i didn’t like looking at the number because it just made me upset. and i already felt upset looking in the mirror, i didn’t need something else to make me upset. but i did. and i was 20 pounds heavier than i was in highschool - the heaviest i had ever been.

i cried.

i didnt do much about it. i was too busy. my first job out of uni was a brand new daycare and i was head teacher of a toddler class - also i was the only staff on floor since there were not as many kids. there was nobody to train me, at all. i had to teach myself everything. i had no time. 

a little while before starting the job, i met this guy. he was so hot, but such a dick - we had a “thing” but it was so toxic. he started off interested in me, but i turned him down. his attitude changed and he started being a douche, but we became friends because we were seeing each other so often. i didn’t have a car yet. he was driving me everywhere. he lived 5 minutes away. he was the type of friend that would text me “im outside, lets go out”. we hung out as friends at first, we would have “study dates”, until we started hooking up. we acted like a thing but he denied we were ever one - but got mad at me whenever i tried to look elsewhere. but i guess in that time, it was nice to be wanted, especially by someone so attractive. 

but again, a year in that shithole job went by fast. i would stay late after work. i would come in on weekends. i was expected to not only help new kids transition, but train new partners. and given that my supers refused to support me, i watched a lot of people quit due to pressure. i had to keep retraining. and kids kept coming. that never stopped. i can honestly say my class wasn’t settled until december, and i started in september. everyday it was ‘its fine, it will get better’. 

a year in that shithole, with 0 support, and i lost all the weight i gained - and more. i was the skinniest i had ever been. even in highschool. i looked at old pictures of myself from when i started the job at my heaviest. i couldnt believe that was me. and i was so happy looking at myself in the mirror. for once! 

after i quit that job, i started another job that i hoped would be a happy ending.

and it wasn’t. it stressed me out just as much. i also moved out by this point, a month after i started this job. my hours are whack. 7-9, 11:30-6. i woke up early and got home late. i never had free time. my last shift at my old job was 7-3:30 and i had the whole day to myself. im someone that needs social interaction and alone time, and by the time i got home i was so tired, i would just cook, clean, shower, and go to bed. and that was my life. sometimes i would get so tired that i couldn’t cook, i just went and ate out. i tried to make personal time with my friends after work but by the time i reached their house, it was late, and places were closed. and id have to leave early anyways because i had work early the next day... so fast food was the only way to make this work. on top of this, this was the most difficult class that i had ever had. the kids behaviours’ were so difficult and i couldn’t handle it. i would cry in my car 3x a week. i would cry 4 minutes before my shift starts in the washroom and walk out and pretend i was okay. i would have my boyfriend come over as much as i could just so i could cry in his arms. i couldnt leave this job because i had just moved out and having a consistent rent payment was a huge responsibility for me. as well, if you know anything about ECEs in canada, just know we make shit pay. but this job pays me better than most ECE jobs... by a landslide. AND gives me benefits, which is so hard to find. i am still at this job - i was at my breaking point at the time covid started, so i was rejoicing when we closed for covid. i havent worked since march, but i needed that time off so desperately. 

with that being said, i gained the weight back.

not everything, but i definitely could tell i was packing on some pounds.

cue covid.

i havent worked since march. i fell back into a lazy routine of ordering fast food. lying in bed. resting. just enjoying NOT dealing with my difficult class. 

but i gained it all back. and i think im back at my heaviest weight. i picked up all my summer clothes from last year from my moms... half of them dont fit me. my favourite pair of shorts won’t close. i just sat and cried in a mess of clothes on my floor in front of the mirror. this was last week.

im trying to tell myself, ‘you’re in the middle of a global pandemic, go easy on yourself’... but do you know what it’s like to finally get what you’re chasing, and have it be taken away from you? i finally had a taste of what it was like to look AND feel good about myself. something ive wanted since i was a teenager...and it’s gone. it’s my fault and i accept that, so please don’t tell me i did this to myself. i know i did. but i can still be upset about it. i look in the mirror and i try to suck my stomach in and pretend nothing changed but its not the same. i see old pictures of myself, especially that bikini pic. ironically, i captioned it “i will never have the confidence to take a bikini pic again”... and here we are. i look at the clothes i wore last year and remember how fucking good i felt wearing them. i try putting them back on and seeing my stomach bulging and my arms looking fat and my love handles, something i didn’t see last year. and i just take them off and opt to wear something frumpier that doesnt hug my figure.

i try to tell people about how i feel but i cant take those ‘love yourself and all your flaws’ campaigns seriously. i dont think i can listen to another ‘you have to just keep faking it until you make it and if u just tell urself ur beautiful u will feel beautiful!’

because if you’re me, you know you cant kid yourself. if you’re me you can’t ‘love every flaw’. you fixate on them. and you let them define you. and if youre me, flaws are all you see.

i hate myself for getting back to this point. 

i have a very supportive boyfriend that knows about all this, who is trying to actively get me to go on runs with him. we are trying to go for walks more and be out and about. he reminds me of little things, like if we are getting bubbletea he will suggest i go with less sugar. he is trying, we are trying. and i appreciate him so much.

today i complained in my car about this to my boyfriend, again. for the millionth time. and he still was supportive. but i just feel like i cant keep doing this to him. he said something today, which i think was him trying to give me a reality check to show me that i cant just wish i could starve myself and overwork myself to lose weight and call it a day... but it stung. he said “i don’t want to be with someone that’s not healthy. i have standards too” and i realized then he deserves so much better than to fucking babysit my complaining ass. i am 24. and i shouldnt be putting this on him. he is an adult with problems just as real as mine and i shouldnt be burdening him with this anymore. 

im scared to talk to him about how that comment made me feel, because he’s so right, and he has every right to leave me. i would honestly. the amount that i worry and fixate on all my flaws and complain and have crying breakdowns about this is not fucking normal. and it shouldnt be his problem. i just want him to be with someone that doesnt give him this baggage. he met me in my ‘prime’ days when i just started getting my skinny body last year. when we finally started dating, we were super sexually active. and i mean, having sex like 15 times a week. im not kidding. now we havent had sex in almost an entire month. i dont feel sexy anymore and its impacting my sex drive.. he tries to start it with me and i just can’t because i feel like he is probably repulsed by my body. this is a huge huge huge problem, seeing as sex was a huge part of our relationship (we are very emotionally in tune with one another, but sex was a great addon because we both love it so much). i hate the way i look without clothes on. i cant bring myself to do it because it makes me feel like shit about myself.

but we are moving in together next month. and that is a huge step. and i am worried that i will never change, and he’s going to feel like he’s stuck with me because he’s moving 40 minutes away from his hometown to live with me. i almost want us to break up so he can be with someone with less baggage but i also love him and i want to be better for him and for us. 

someone please help me. 

[wintersxsoul]

The Night We Danced

Summary: Two dorks in love that have to wait to get drunk to confess their feelings.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Maybe some language, drunk people and I think mentions of sex?? 

A/N: This is my entry for my dearest @writingsoftheloser 1k historical writing challenge! I got the Victorian Era, so I came up with this longass nonsense. I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback and reblogs are free and make me really happy and motivated <3

  Bucky Barnes was a dancer.

He sometimes had flashes of his old life in the late 30’s and 40’s, long summer nights dancing with beautiful dames, little Stevie by his side laughing and stepping in the ladies’ shoes. Everything was much more simpler, happier, but war happened and the dances turned into battles, the warm hands that he was used to hold became rifles and glocks. The jazzy tunes turned into gunfire, dates turned into risky missions and the thought of a long happy life turned into dust when he fell off that train.

Bucky Barnes stopped being a dancer to be a soldier, a spy, a deadly assassin.

They had taken all he was away, all his memories, his hopes and dreams. Everything was wiped but not his motor skills or knowledge. They turned him into the most efficient soldier, cold and calculating, his only motive in life was completing his missions. He had killed mercilessly, not questioning even once who was in front of the gun, he just knew he had to pull the trigger.

Everything changed the moment Steve Rogers, his best friend since childhood, found him 70 years after being used and tortured. Steve saved him from the claws of Hydra and gave him the opportunity to gain back his own self, to finally give his life meaning again.

His life changed drastically when he joined the Avengers, he could use his unrequired skills to help people, to save lives. He had his closest friends, Steve of course, Sam, Nat and then he met you. Once he was able to recover almost all his memories, he had a long heartfelt conversation with Natasha since she had suffered in similar ways. The brainwashing, the body killing training, the horrors of the Cold War and the cruelty of the Red Room.

You and Nat were inseparable, both becoming SHIELD agents the same year. You were a freelance hitwoman, both of your missions were to kill the same target. But before you could kill each other, SHIELD stepped in and rescued both of you, seeing your potential and the ability to do the missions other agents weren’t able to. When Bucky first came to the compound, you were away because your last mission went badly and it almost killed you, so Fury and Steve decided it was better for you to lay low for a while. Months went by and Bucky’s curiosity only grew, he really wanted to meet you, since everyone talked about you like you were an angel. When the time came to finally meet you, everything he ever heard about you was not nearly accurate to him. You were as much of a mystery as Nat, but unlike her, you opened up to him fastly, trusting him blindly. You both held each other on your worst nights and were also there for the other when you needed a good laugh.

You could have never imagined that the infamous Winter Soldier could be such an absolute dork with such a pure heart and soul. At first he was a bit sulky and moody, he was like a ghost around the compound, but months of therapy and help from his friends turned him into the man he was today, the man you loved deeply, even though you lied to yourself trying to make it seem like a platonic feeling. For years you remained as best friends, until the masquerade ball Tony organized for Natasha’s birthday.

“So, what are your plans for the party?” You asked Bucky nonchalantly while you looked for costume designers online. He looked up from his book and shrugged, he really didn’t know what you meant but he knew you would elaborate. You closed your laptop and placed it on your nightstand, all your attention on your friend now. You laid across the bed, resting your head on his lap. You were staring at the ceiling so you totally missed Bucky’s adoring gaze.

“Well, apart from getting hammered with Thor’s Asgardian alcohol, I don’t really know.” You rolled your eyes internally at his comment. You laid on your stomach so you could face him, your chin resting on your hands on top of his chest.

“Obviously you are doing that, but it’s not what I meant.” Bucky chuckled and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t sure about asking him to be your partner, maybe he was planning on going with someone else, maybe he wanted to go on his own. You cleared your throat while reaching out to fiddle with the laces of his hoodie nervously.

“Are you going with someone?” He frowned, realizing that you didn’t assume (like he did) that you were going together. Maybe you were planning to go with a date? He knew it had been more than a year since you had dated someone so maybe you wanted to use the party as an excuse to do so?

“What you mean with someone? I d-”

“You should ask Sarah from Forensics, I’ve heard she has a huge crush on you. She’s sooo soft and pretty. I have her number if you wa-”

“Okay, Y/n stop right there. I am not going with Sarah or with anyone else but you.” His eyes widened at his own boldness but he quickly found a logical explanation.

“I mean, we always go together to this kind of shitty parties we both dread. But if you are going with someone else is fine.”

“Yeah, yeah I just thought that maybe you wanted to go with an actual date and not your best friend.” He tousled your hair and you whined jokingly. He mumbled “dork” and you stuck your tongue out.

“My best friend is pretty cool and when she gets drunk the party starts, so I am not missing that for Sarah from Forensics.”

“Oh god James, and I am the dork? You absolute dumbass.” You shook your head in amusement and sat on the bed, putting your disheveled hair in a low ponytail. You slapped him lightly on the right shoulder and got down of the bed, gathering your stuff.

“I can’t stand to see that beautiful stupid face right now, I have to look for a fucking dress. You better wear something in dark red cause, you know it-”

“it’s my color” he mocked you using a high pitched tone of voice and laughed at the face of disgust you jokingly pulled off.

“Fuck you.”

“Why don’t you f-” His sentence was cut off by the bang of his door closing but you already knew what he said. You rolled your eyes and made your way to Nat’s room since you needed to organize shopping days and all that stuff.

-

Bucky Barnes was a dancer and fortunately he still had some moves, but waltzing was out of his league. He knew what a masquerade was of course, so the fact that he had to learn how to dance a completely different style was...frightening to say the least. He talked about it with Steve so they both were headed now to a masterclass while their dates were out shopping. Nat had asked Steve as her date because she wanted to go with his best friend. Their friendship was the most platonic you’ve ever seen and watching them flirt and banter was the highlight of your days. Nat was a fantastic dancer of course, she used to be a fucking ballerina, so she offered to teach you some moves. She was the only one who actually knew your feelings towards Bucky because you had confessed them one night you had drank your weight in vodka and when you saw Bucky’s text asking you to please be careful, you laughed and told her. You didn’t remember that conversation and when Natasha tried to ask you, she realized she shouldn’t bring up the topic until you were ready to believe it yourself.

“Ooof Nat, should I really buy this expensive dress?” You asked her while checking yourself out in the mirror. The dress was absolutely stunning, made of a dark red taffeta or a similar material, short sleeved and a beautiful v-neck, not very revealing but enough to make your babies pop. The bodice hugged your curves and the skirt was puffy.

“Listen, Stark is paying for everything, that includes our dresses. So yes, you are going to buy it.” She stood up and lead you back to the changing room so she could purchase both of your dresses.

Steve sighed heavily at Bucky’s complaints. They’d been dancing for four hours straight and they weren’t getting any better, or at least that’s what they thought. Bucky really couldn’t believe he had been dragged into this mess just because he loved getting drunk with you under any circumstances.

“Come on Buck, don’t worry. You two will probably be too drunk to even stand, why bother so much in learning this shit?” Bucky rolled his eyes and nudged his friend on the shoulder.

“Listen pal, I wanna do this right. You know how much I love dancing so this is just an excuse to learn something new.” He could almost believe his own lie, but Steve knew better. He knew Bucky better than himself, so he obviously knew the unspoken thing that was going on between two of his best friends.

“Okay buddy, whatever you say. I just hope Y/n appreciates all this instead of laughing at you like Sam and Nat are probably going to do.” He muttered something to himself and left the room without saying a word.

“Fucking idiots, I hope they fuck soon.” Steve said to himself before turning around and smiling at the dance teacher.

“Let’s do this Janet, I have a very dangerous woman to impress tonight.”

-

“I really, really, really, really regret the day I gave you access to come into my room whenever you want to.” You told Bucky, who was laying on your bed on his stomach, his face buried in the pillows. You slumped next to him and buried your face in the pillows as well. You really thought you looked like idiots but you couldn’t care less.

“Can we stay here? We can watch one of those victorian romantic movies you love and get wasted on our own.”

“You know I would love to, but Nat would kill us. Besides, you hate those movies.”

“I was just trying to persuade you Barnes, you don’t need to be so rude.” You stood up and opened your first drawer, pulling out the two masks you had bought throwing Bucky’s to his head and he responded with a fake “ouch”. He sat on the bed and looked at you amused, the small mask in his hands.

“And you have the nerve to call me rude. I already have my mask and I won’t show it to you until tonight.”

“Wow, sorry for thinking about you and your shitty memory, old man.”

“You know what Y/n? I’ll see you tonight before I throw myself out of that balcony.” You giggled at his fake tantrum. You really loved your friendship with Bucky, because even though you were always joking around each other, you had your backs. He was always there and so were you.

“You want me to walk you to your room?” He frowned at you but his eyes widened when he realized what you were about to say, but you said it before he could cut you off. “In case you don’t remember where your room is at.”

“That was one time Y/n, please let it go.”

“Never.” And with that said, he left. You giggled remembering the first night you two got drunk together. It was the first time Bucky had tried Thor’s alcohol so he was excited to finally get drunk after all those decades. He drank by himself almost three flasks and encouraged you to drink a bottle of vodka on your own, so at 6 am, you were stumbling through your room floor because Bucky had forgotten where his own room was, so he wanted to sleep at yours.

You took a last look at yourself in your mirror and placed the mask in its place. It was a shame that Bucky had decided not to wear the mask you’d bought for him, but his taste was pretty great so you knew it was going to be amazing.

When you reached the party the place was already full of people. Everyone was dancing to the slow melodies or drinking at the bar. You noticed that Tony had removed all the furniture from the room so it looked like a grand dance hall, the usual modern lamps he owned were replaced by huge golden crystal chandeliers, the windows were covered by thick curtains that looked like the ones European palaces had. The cream and golden tones of all the decoration gave a really regal look to the party, the soft glow of the candles in the bar and the sound of champagne glasses relaxed your senses.

You fixed your long silk gloves and sighed, moving through the crowd towards the bar, where Nat stood chatting with who you assumed it was Steve, Sam was behind the counter pouring alcohol to his half empty glass.

“You mind filling this lady’s glass?” Sam smirked and you winked at him. He raised his eyebrow under his cream and red mask and he took out a tall glass.

“What would the lady like to drink?” He rested both of his palms in the counter, looking at you with an amused look in his eyes.

“Vodka on the rocks, s'il vous plait.” You heard Nat choke on her drink and Steve turned to look at you while Sam just poured your drink, a smile playing on his lips.

“Aren’t we starting a bit early, Y/n? Your date is not even here.” You shrugged at Sam’s comment and took the glass when he handed it.

“Since you all seemed so surprised with my drinking choices, I’m going. I need an unjudging friend right now.” You waved your hand gracefully and moved towards the centre, trying to find Bucky. After five minutes and an empty glass, you saw his bulking figure talking to some woman. You needed a moment to gather your thoughts because he looked absolutely sinful with the outfit he was wearing. The black pants marked all his muscles, specially his thighs, those fucking thighs that drove you insane and his ass...you shook your head trying to stop your mind. You needed another drink.

“Wow look who’s back and empty handed!” Steve said to the small group. You nudged him in the ribs and asked Sam for another glass of alcohol.

“Why are you this flustered Y/n?” Nat asked you when she noticed your flushed cheeks. You fixed your mask trying to hide your nervousness and failing miserably.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your three friends shared a knowing look and you rolled your eyes, finishing your drink in two sips and encouraged by the burning liquid, you went to where Bucky was. You could now see his whole outfit perfectly and your heart swelled. He was wearing a black ruffled shirt with a black and dark red embroidered vest and a black tail coat. His face was covered by a simple half Venetian mask, decorated with the same colors as the outfit’s. He was chatting with some agent you couldn’t recognize and you felt a pang of jealousy at how he was looking at her, smiling and touching her. At that moment you realized the alcohol was kicking in and that’s why you were having those stupid thoughts. You approached your friend and placed your gloved hand to his shoulder, indicating him that you were besides him and waiting for him to pay attention to you. You catched a part of the conversation and they were talking about one of the last missions the undercover agents did, so after a court nod from Bucky and a brief goodbye from her, his eyes were on you.

“Well, look at you!” He smiled at you warmly and you felt something flip inside you. “How did you recognize me?”

“Oh boy, you can mask that face all you want but you can’t mask those thighs.” You smirked and he started laughing at your comment, making you feel proud of your wittiness.

“How drunk are you already?” You brought your hand up between your bodies and pressed your thumb and index together whispering “a little” so only he could hear it.

“Lucky for you, I drank almost a flask, so that makes us dangerous already. Wanna dance?” He extended his hand and you took it accepting his invitation. You suddenly felt really nervous since it was the first time you were going to slow dance with him but unbeknown to you, Bucky Barnes felt sick due to his nerves. He wanted this to work, he wanted to show you and the world that he was still capable of being a soft person, not this cold calculative soldier with a dark past.

The feeling of his hand on your waist and your other hands intertwined was intoxicating you, your bodies pressed together, the only thing between you two were your clothes. You spinned around the room for what felt like eternity, time for you had stopped and everyone had disappeared.

You burst the small bubble you were both in saying you needed a drink, Bucky stopped swaying you and with your hands still intertwined, went to the empty bar.

“I’ve always loved the Victorian Era, you know?” He said while giving you a glass full of vodka, and took a sip of his flask. “The clothes, the courting, the chivalry and all that fuss.” He smiled sadly at you thinking that you wouldn’t notice.

“If you could, would you go back in time and stay?”

He took another sip, now longer, and shook his head. “Of course not, you wouldn’t be there.” He blurted out without thinking and you just giggled at the comment.

“Oh Barnes, don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure you would make good friends there as well.” You gave him a sincere smile and he shook his head again, taking another sip of the flask, this time a long one. You looked down at your glass and twirled the straw, looking at how the ice cubes collided with each other.

“I love you.” You jerked your head up and maybe it was the alcohol clouding your mind or the denial of your own feelings, but you didn’t notice his intense gaze, filled with love and adoration.

“And I love you too, you idiot. As my best friend, you should know that already.” You placed your lips around the straw and finished the whole drink, Bucky still looking at you shocked that you rejected his feelings without you noticing.

“No, Y/n, what I mean is that I’m-”

“You are what, Barnes?” Nat cut Bucky off and you threw yourself into her arms, kissing her face and wishing her a happy birthday. “I missed you, Nat. Where were you?” You started talking to her totally ignoring your friend, who got that as his cue to leave the party. He would never blame you for not feeling the same or not even noticing his feelings, that was totally on him, but he didn’t feel well enough to stay in the party. He knew you wanted him there, to get drunk together and then both of you ending up throwing up in the sink and the toilet, but tonight he needed to breathe, he needed to get out of the crowd.

“Hey, where is going Bucky?” Asked Steve while he approached Nat and you. You frowned and looked at the entrance, catching a glimpse of Bucky’s broad shoulders and hair leaving the party. “I’ll be back in a sec.” You said and stumbled down the bar stool, heading towards the entrance half running.

“We both know they are not coming back, right?” Steve said to Nat, a strong nod and a sigh answered his comment.

You ran as fast as your drunken state let you but before you could notice you slipped with the dress and fell.

“FUCK” You screamed to the empty hall and took off your heels and gloves, standing up trying not to fall again on your ass. Bucky was nowhere to be seen so you headed to his room, your head spinning due to the alcohol.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky startled you, making you lose balance but he caught you before you could fall again.

“I was just checking that you got to your room safely, since you know, you get lost and all that.” You laughed at his fake hurt expression and straightened your clothes. You noticed that he had taken off his mask and that you were still wearing yours. “Why did you leave?”

“I’m feeling a bit sick, I think I drank too mu-”

“James, if you don’t tell me what the fuck is wrong I’ll torture you until you do. The drinking excuse is the worst you could’ve used with me.”

Bucky sighed defeated, he knew he had to get it off his chest, after three years carrying this on his own, he needed to let the words out, he needed you to know. He reached for the laces of your mask and took it off, placing a strand of hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek.

“I love you, Y/n.” You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance just to mess up with him.

“Baby, we already established that I lov-”

“Y/n, you are not listening. I am in love with you. I want to be your best friend, your lover, your partner in crime and your drunk buddy.”

You stared at him wide eyed, not knowing what to answer or to do. He caressed your cheek with his thumb and you gasped at the feeling, making Bucky think that you were rejecting the act. You stopped him from moving his hand and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours lightly.

“Either you kiss me or I faint, so make a m-” And just like that, his lips crashed against yours with a passion and hunger you’ve never felt in your entire life. He pressed you against the door, the stupid huge dress stopping you from feeling anything. Your brain finally woke up and you realized what was going on. Bucky Barnes loved you, he was in love with you. And you were in love with him. You pulled away and stopped him, making him step backwards scared that he did something you didn’t want to.

“You love me?” You really asked him, thinking that maybe your brain was betraying you. He nodded and looked away, not wanting to see the rejection in your eyes.

“Hey coward, look at me.” You held his chin and forced him to look at you. “I love you too, always have. I was just too damn scared to admit it to even myself.” He smiled and kissed you again, this time slower, pouring every ounce of love he had for you in the kiss.

“What now?” He asked you once he pulled away to breathe. He had his hand on the back of your neck, caressing your skin with his thumb.

“As much as I’d love you to fuck me against every surface on that room, I am drunk and tired and I need to process everything.” He nodded and waited for you to come up with what you wanted to do next. “So you are going to take this dress off me carefully cause I can’t do it on my own and it’s expensive as fuck, you are going to give me one for your shirts and we are sleeping, together.” He nodded again and smiled, leaning in again to give your lips a small peck.

“Consider it done, asshole.”

[reflections-in-tea-cups]

Shadow

tw: pet death

We lost our beautiful, lively, shy, affectionate, panther of a house cat on Monday, March 25, 2019. While I hope the details of the past month fade from my memory, I know some of you are shocked at the news and want to know what happened. This story is still too painful to retell, so I’m putting it here.

It’s a long story with a tragic end. It’s not my best writing, but editing it further is beyond me right now. 

Shadow came into our lives on Feb. 13th, 2015. We went to the animal shelter to look at a dog – instead, we came home with an eight-year-old black cat. We thought he was a gentle old man, but as soon as he stepped out of the crate we realized they had sent us home with a panther. He was thirteen pounds of pure muscle, and the first thing he did was jump up six feet to hide on the top shelf of my closet.

Despite his size and athleticism, he was incredibly gentle and shy. He hid under the bed the first two weeks that he spent with us, only coming out after lots of cajoling. Even then, he’d often stop just at the edge of the bed so we could reach in and pet him. Once he was comfortable with us, he’d throw himself at our feet for pets and scritches, rolling around so we could get at his belly. He was always deferential to our resident female cat, despite having at least three pounds on her. He was playful and sweet, jumping up walls to catch at laser lights and crawling under the covers for morning snuggles. You always knew what his favorite toy was, as he’d leave it next to (or, more commonly, in) his food dish.

I’m not sure when he stopped eating. He still cried for food every morning and night, and he still went to the bowl and began lapping it up. We noticed that there was more wet food being left over, but that happens sometimes and it usually isn’t a problem – maybe one or both cats don’t care for that flavor of wet food, or maybe they got tired of it, or maybe they’re eating less because everyone is less active in winter. They always had access to dry food, so I didn’t worry.

I was shocked when I picked him up in late February and realized I could feel his bones. He was always a healthy, muscular cat – but suddenly he felt frail and old. Concerned, I made an vet appointment; the soonest available was two weeks away. Luck was on our side, and I got a call a few days later saying they could see us March 8th.

At the vet, we found our healthy-at-thirteen-pounds boy was now under ten. Blood work showed signs of pancreatitis, dehydration, and anemia. X-rays didn’t find anything surprising, just an empty stomach. He got anti-nausea meds, pain meds, and fluids. They sent us back home with some prescription food, instructions to monitor his food and water intake, and a blood recheck appointment set up for a week later.

His appetite increased for a few days. He still wasn’t eating enough to gain any weight, but any progress was hopeful. But by Wednesday (the 13th) he was back to barely eating anything and I called and got him an appointment for the next day. The 14th was terrifying – his weight had continued to drop, and as had his red blood cell count. They recommended hospitalization for IV fluids and medication, and to monitor his eating. I cried signing the papers to leave him there for the day.

When I went to pick him up that night, they said he hadn’t really improved and they recommended overnight hospitalization. Our vet isn’t a 24 hour clinic, so that involved transferring him to a local emergency vet. The ER vet reassured us that pancreatitis is often treated by a few days of pushing fluids, so we should remain hopeful. She also offered to do an ultrasound on his abdomen, to further look for anything else that could be causing his symptoms. No one really knew why he was so anemic, but maybe the ultra sound would see if/where he was bleeding internally.

After a sleepless night, the ER vet called to tell us Shadow had done well – they’d gotten him to eat a little, and the ultra sound hadn’t found anything too alarming or conclusive. The only thing they noted was an enlarged lymph node. We were told another day of hospitalization would be ideal, but we might be able to take him home that night. It was with a much lighter heart that we brought him back to our regular vet, giving them the overnight report and excited to get our healthy boy back soon.

However, our rollercoaster took a sudden dive. The vet reported that he hadn’t eaten and had only gotten more lethargic as the day progressed. The next diagnostic step they recommended was exploratory surgery, during which they would also insert a feeding tube so we could ensure he was getting the calories he needed. At this point, they were very worried he was about to enter liver failure from starvation.

We decided to go ahead with the surgery, which was scheduled for the next morning. We took him home that night for lots of cuddles – lapped up our affection all night. He was so happy to be back in his familiar environment, and our other cat also made it clear she was thrilled he was home.

Taking him to the vet the next morning was a tense affair. After finally being home, he wanted nothing to do with his cat carrier and let us know it. Three hours later I got a call from the vet – he’d done very well in surgery and was waking up comfortably! They had a new diagnosis based on the state of his liver and gall-bladder: feline triaditis. While they did take a couple biopsies, they were pretty confident we were on the right track. They said the prognosis was good but the at-home care would be intensive; not only were we responsible for his calorie intake through the feeding tube until he began to eat again, but there were also five medications that needed to be given once or twice a day. They still hadn’t found a source for the anemia, but hoped it would recoup with everything else.

We were thrilled to bring him home and dedicated to getting him back up to health. His food was specially prepared each day and given to him 4-5 times daily. He had to be quarantined from our other cat and dog for a while, so he was confined to the spare bedroom. Within three days, he was starting to eat on his own and was feisty enough to try and escape to the rest of the apartment whenever I opened the door. His stitches were healing well, and we got a onesie for him to wear instead of the hated cone (not that he liked it much better). The vet checked in that Monday, and was almost as excited as I was to hear how well he was doing. We started letting him explore the rest of the apartment with Leira and Kenai when we were home to monitor him, so he got more stimulation and got to hang out in all his favorite spots. Everything was looking up.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last. On Friday (the 22nd) I noticed that his eating was declining. We had just gotten him up to full calories through the feeding tube, so I figured it would take a while for his appetite to surpass what we were giving him. However, his appetite didn’t pick back up, and he began showing increased signs of nausea when I fed him. He also felt unusually warm. On Monday I called the vet, and left a message asking if this was normal recovery behavior. I spent the afternoon at home with him, waiting for the vet to call. They didn’t, so I called and asked again that evening – this time someone went back to talk to the vet in person. We were advised to take him to ER.

We went back to the ER where he had been hospitalized just ten days before. After a quick physical exam (where we saw he had lost even more weight, and he was feverish), they took him back for more bloodwork. He was extraordinarily anemic – his red blood cell count had decreased by half from its previous low levels. We could take him to a clinic that could do a blood transfusion – the nearest one was an hour away by car, and he’d have to stay there for at least 24 hours to make sure his body didn’t reject the blood. And since we didn’t know what was causing the anemia, it was likely the transfusion would only buy us a little time.

The next diagnostic step would be to test a sample of his bone marrow, a process that would involve putting him under anesthesia. There were three main suspects for his anemia at this point: a virus attacking his red blood cells and/or bone marrow, an autoimmune disorder (his body attacking his red blood cells), or cancer. We were advised that was a toss of the dice whether or not it was something treatable; even if it was, it would be extremely intensive and difficult for him.

We took some time to hold him close and think about our options. His options. For the last few weeks (and the last four years) we had discussed always trying to do what was best for him. And as he fell asleep in my arms, that most difficult choice became clear.

The vet told us we could take him home overnight if we wanted, but it we weren’t going to do a transfusion we should bring him back within 24 hours to put him to sleep. I didn’t want him to go through two more car rides (his most hated activity) and what would clearly be a painful and stressful night – we decided it would be best to let him go peacefully that night. He’d had a good day cuddling on the couch with me, Leira, and Kenai (one of the rare times I actually got a picture of him and the dog together). Luis and I held him for at least an hour, telling him we loved him and soaking in his sweetness.  Finally we knew we couldn’t delay any longer. Luis held me and I held Shadow as the vet administered the anesthesia, lulling him into sleep for the last time.

Shadow was so much more than we ever could have expected. I’ll never be able to describe him adequately, or what he meant to us. We will miss him forever, and cherish the time we did get to spend with him.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Hey! So Ive been trying to have more love for myself lately.. and it’s hard after having so many negative thoughts for so many years.. I was wondering if you had any advice on how to work on self love more.. and how can I be confident in what I wear or do even though I am a bigger girl... sorry if I’m bothering you.. I see you give great advice out and this has been weighing on my mind :( .. love your blog by the way! ❤️

Hey! First off, I give you all the kudos for trying to build up your self-love, because that shit ain’t easy. As a fellow bigger girl, it really does suck that extra bit more because of ridiculous societal messages telling us that “skinny” is “pretty”. 

So, this is just 100% a suggestion that helped me, and I can’t say it’ll help everyone, but I’m still gonna throw it out there. Because I despised my body ever since I hit puberty. I was always the “curvy” one in my friend group in middle school and high school, and even in undergrad I was sooooo hard on myself and always comparing my body size to others and feeling “fat” or “inadequate” (which, by the way, I’ve learned fat isn’t a dirty word. It’s just another adjective like any other word, and I love reclaiming it for myself because why does one word create so much angst in us?). Well, I hit grad school and finally decided enough was enough. We only get one body in our lives, and it’s the ONE thing that is ours and ours alone, so why was I waging war with the one true home my soul had? 

So, what I did was got a full-length mirror (eep, I know). I put that sucker in my bedroom and I MADE myself stand naked in front of it for at least 5 minutes every single day. Butt ass naked. It was HORRIBLE at first. I didn’t let myself look away, and I took in all aspects of my body from all angles (sometimes doing funny poses or funny faces for a bit of humorous relief because it got intensely difficult some days). And I did that every day for months and months. And ya know what? After a while, I started to notice things about my body that I hadn’t. Sure, maybe I wished my tummy was flatter, or my thighs smaller, but hey, that dip in my waist is pretty cool, and my shoulders have these cute little freckles that aren’t so bad…I think you see where I’m going with this. I started focusing on the parts of my body that I DIDN’T dislike, and the more I did that, the more little things I liked that I noticed. I did it with my face too, and really took in my features. And the longer I did it, the easier it got. And now, over 5 years later, I still have a full-length mirror and I still make sure to look at myself naked every day. I don’t always do it for 5+ minutes nowadays, but I make sure to get in a few good looks. And sure, there’s still days that I’m like “oh god” and start to get that negative thinking, but there’s also days where I look and think, “Well damn, I look pretty good!” We all have positive and negative self-esteem days, but it’s not letting the negative ones take over and telling those negative thoughts to fuck off. 

It’s also been me having to rewire my thought process about myself, as well as taking apart the stigma of what is considered “attractive”, because that word is so subjective. I’ve had people who say how attractive/pretty/etc they think I am, and then I’ve had people say comments that I’m not even gonna write out on here. The point is, you’ll never make everyone else happy, but what’s important is that YOU’RE happy and comfortable in your body. Regardless of size, shape, color, ability, etc…we ALL deserve to feel happy with the body we’re given. 

Another thing that has helped tremendously is my support system. I have a group of friends now who NEVER enable that negative thinking. In fact, I just went to the gyno last month, and I almost fell over when I got on the scale and saw I had gained 10-15lbs. It really fucked me up the entire rest of the visit. So I texted two of my closest friends as soon as I left the office, and I was frantically asking them, “Did I look like I gained weight to you, when you were just here for my birthday?!” And I told them what had happened at the gyno. They both responded with support, one saying that it’s just a number on a scale, and that that number doesn’t define who I am, and that if I FEEL happy and healthy and confident, then fuck that scale (this is why I don’t even own a working scale or weigh myself, bc those damn numbers really mess with  your head). The other friend told me that I was giving that number way too much power, and that I’m so many other qualities than my weight. She said that a number shouldn’t overpower my intelligence, compassion, drive, etc.

Well, they both made me tear up, because they were both so right, and I needed that reality check from them. I usually am pretty decent at giving myself that self-love, but I know that when I need some assistance with it, I have some amazing friends to help raise me back up and remind me that I’m a kickass woman who isn’t going to be cowed by something as silly as weight or body size. 

Holy shit, this got SO rambly. Apologies. I’m so passionate about self-love though, and I know firsthand what a process it is. I also know I’m privileged in a lot of ways, being white, cis, and able-bodied, and I can’t imagine the struggle others who don’t have those privileges have to go through in fighting those societal stigmas. 

Also, as far as what you wear, my advice is just make sure it fits and you’re comfortable in it, and fuck whatever size is on the tag. I used to be all caught up in the “omg, but it’s an XXL” or “but it’s a size X, Y, or Z size pants!” I have another amazing friend who is my go-to shopping buddy, because she’s an amazing emotional support for navigating the horrors of trying to shop for a curvier body (she legit brings a chocolate bar when we go shopping, and feeds me pieces when I start getting grumpy or down on myself if things don’t fit; she’s amazing). She gave me advice one time that always sticks with me. She said, “Ashton, NO ONE is going to know what size shirt or pants you have on. No one is going to demand to see the tag to make sure you’re wearing a large instead of an extra large. All anyone will notice is if the clothes don’t fit you properly, or if you’re not confident in them.” I was like damn….you’re so right. No one but ME (well, and my friend) knows what size these are, so why the fuck do I care, so long as *I* think I look cute in them? 

God, it really comes down to numbers, doesn’t it? Fuck those numbers. Fuck every single one of them. We’re so much more than a number. I am. You are. We ALL are.

Okay, now I’m done rambling. I don’t know if any of that was helpful, but feel free to message me at any time if you need some positive support! Also, I’m looking at your profile picture, and you are so gorgeous, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

[panace-of-swords]

Tw eds for the tags, just need to vent

[eachdayisasitcomes]

february 11 2017

My name is Meghan Rose Lewis. I am a woman, 18 years old, with blonde hair. The ends are lighter than the roots, and my eyes are brown like my father’s. I live in Massachusetts, which at this time of year will freeze your bones if you stay in one place too long. I like to write, I like to get my thoughts down; it helps. Sometimes people call things that are therapeutic for them cathartic. Catharsis can take on many forms. Tonight this is it’s form, on a blog only my eyes have ever seen. On a blog that nags me, a blog that ironically enough was last posted on this day two years ago. There’s something, someone rather, that is paining me- it started two days ago (well in four minutes it’ll be three days ago). And all Ive been able to do is have headaches, and cry, and stay up late, and not be hungry enough to eat, and curse their nae, and curse myself, and hate the very hands that held me and hate the very hands that type this. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry tonight, because what’s the use in crying over someone that doesn’t know you’re crying for them, over them, because you love them. Yes this someone is the same someone i wrote about exactly two years ago today on an extremely happier note. I’m sure I’ll remember this ordeal pretty vividly so I’m not going to explain it. Only for the sake of myself down the line. But, I still need my catharsis and that’s why I’m here.

Except I don’t know what to talk about, I feel so numb. God I hate that word. Numb it rhymes with dumb and it is dumb. Numb. Why would you take such a poetic phrase and squeeze into one dumb word. I’ve lost all feeling, My nerves no longer work, I can’t sense pain.

But wait I can so maybe I’m not numb. No, I am very much alive (a reference to my MCR days back when I was 12 and idolized Gerard Way, who wrote that on his neck at a concert once). I’m alive but it’s almost like it hurts to breath. It’s almost reminds me of running on Attleboro’s turf for my explosion practices in mid March when there was still snow on the ground. You’re coughing, nose running, cramps in your gut seizing your body, throat so dry, heart beating so unbelievably fast. But.

I also feel like I’m standing still. Like I’m in the center of some courtyard and all of the sudden walls, the sides of brick buildings, all four around you just crash. And it seems to go on forever. Like you can follow every single falling brick with your eyes, like you can remember the shapes that the puffs of dusty broken bricks make, just as you used to see shapes in clouds on old days where the sky was blue. Now just imagine those four buildings were your love, your best friend, your trust, and you heart. Fuck this is melodramatic.

I don’t really care though, and I don't feel any better but at least for the past fifteen or so minutes I’ve been distracted.

You know what I wish?

I wish there was a way to see the inside of peoples souls. I know everyone says it’s the heart that stores your love, appreciation, care, basically all your feelings for people you find important to you. And i do use the heart in a metaphorical sense, but I believe every emotion, feeling, sense of being, sense of reality remains in the soul. And that’s why I wish you could see inside of them to see intentions, and to see how someone really truly views you, and what you mean to them, or even how you play into their reality. Maybe that’s why the soul is so elusive, cause it knows that if it gets caught and the person that sees it didn’t like what they saw the soul, or more precisely the person in which the soul lies, will be removed from the soul seer’s life. This is sounding very confusing and science fiction-y and I’m super sorry in advanced. I don’t think there is anyone in my life with a bad soul, I think like any organ or living being it can get sick though, infected. People do shitty things, terrible things in the name of love and those things corrupt a soul and slither in and out like snakes.

I’m hoping that my friend doesn’t ask about the situation I talked about previously. I really don’t want to share, but at the same tie I do. i want to be free of this ordeal. i told myself i wasn’t going to  cry but now I’m starting.

When I was nine years old I entered puberty. A disgusting stage of life where your body smells, you face gets this weird thing called acne and you gain weight you didn’t know you gained until seven years later when someone shows you pictures. But yeah i started this stage pretty young in life. And I honestly think thats when my brain chemicals got fucked up and I think that’s when i started to develop depression and insecurities that were sad beyond measure. But the point is these things started almost ten years ago, and in ten years I have gone through two clinical depressions, countless anxiety attacks, three therapists, many refills of Prozac, and a lot of fucking tears. Poor me, right meg? no. this isn’t sympathy, fuck if I wanted sympathy I’d romanticize the shit out of this (crying at night makes me feel like a wilted flower and cue the single tear lol) this is just a time line of my happiness. I don’t think my happiness has been here longer than a year since then. And when i say happiness I mean this secure sense of self, of love, or laughter, of general goodness. Happiness doesn’t mean sadness never comes, no it can show up but its fleeting. It’s like dropping your pencil at school quick, its like shutting the lights off. But no since I was nine i’ve been trying to be happy again. I have been doing my best. I have tried to surround myself with people who support me and shit like tat. But it’s like no matter how close I get it comes crashing down (to seem more on this feeling reread paragraph 4). And i have no one but myself to blame. People may have done things but its ultimately my fault for letting them in close enough to crumble part of me away. I half believe that last sentence, because I do also believe what has recently happened to me, or what i recently found out, I did not deserve it. I want to believe my worth but when people.. what’s the word.. obliterate it, you feel like you’ve been worthless our whole life. Fuck this is so corny. I don’t know self. don't know what I did in a past life, don’t know why i let people get close to me, don’t know why people lie to me, especially a person you loved more deeply than anyone.

I really don’t want to stop typing, this is pretty good.

People do fucked up things, but it’s all in the way they fight for them, or the lack of fighting. I hope my someone believes I’m worth fighting for. and If he doesn’t then should I feel bad? Should I feel like I am too worthless to fight for to unworthy of love? Or should I realize that I am better than what I received? I hope it’s the last one. but I’m afraid I’ll turn on myself and feel worthless and unworthy. Does it make sense to say worthless and unworthy in one sentence?

Well let’s end this on a good note.

I like my middle name. Rose. I think it makes a great first name. I wonder what it means, lemme go check... it says “ Originally a Norman form of a Germanic name, which was composed of the elements hrod "fame" and heid "kind, sort, type". The Normans introduced it to England in the forms Roese and Rohese.” well Meghan (which means pearl in welsh, and possibly brave warrior in celtic or irish, and strong and capable in anglo-saxon) and rose go pretty well together. I don’t think my parents intended on this though. but yeah

My name is Meghan Rose

I am a Pearl, brave, strong, an capable, and a rose so famous, and kind, and I am glad to be myself. And I want to be happy, celebrated, and confident. told myself I wasn’t going to cry. I want to live up to my name.

maybe I’ll be back here soon.

[cryokinesisandlight]

Maybe if I skip Dinner (18)

previous  ╎  next

pairings: xiuchen and baekyeol. xiumin and baekhyun centric, though.

genre: angst

rating: nc-17

warnings: eating disorders (bulimia and anorexia), self-harm, self-hatred

please take care of yourself if you choose to read.

Joonmyun tells Baekhyun that Minseok has been involuntarily admitted to the hospital the next day. Joonmyun doesn't seem to know what to do but Baekhyun assures him that it'll be alright. 

He does feel a little sorry for their leader, but it's not enough to regret his desire to lose weight. He does, however, feel sorry that Minseok has been admitted to the hospital for a low weight because the other didn't deserve that.

The oldest member was perfect just the way he was and Baekhyun sort of wishes he could see that. He also sort of wishes he could have been as good as Minseok if it meant that he would be the one so skinny that the other members feared for his life. But they don't because Baekhyun isn't skinny nor is he good enough for their concern. 

Jihyun's efforts in making him open up seem so fruitless as he stares out the window after Joonmyun has left and decides that he can become skinny as well. He won't ever get to where Minseok is, he doesn't need to weigh 40 or below. 

He does, however, need to weigh 47 or maybe just 45. Anything that is below his 50.

Baekhyun turns around to smile at the nurse that is checking the wound on his wrist. The nurse doesn't seem to acknowledge Baekhyun so he clears his throat and they look up and send him a smile.

"Yes?" they ask before they continue their task on his lower arm. Baekhyun ignores the sting of pain as they remove the bandage to clean the wound and put on a clean bandage to make sure it doesn't get infected.

"My band member was admitted to the psychiatric ward yesterday and I was wondering if I could ... you know, go see him? We were really close and I just want to talk to him." The nurse raises an eyebrow and Baekhyun folds his face in sadness. 

It's not true that he was 'really close' with Minseok but who was he to deny the brotherly bond they had faked so many times. It's not that Baekhyun dislikes Minseok, no, not at all. Baekhyun likes their eldest, he really does. He just never got the opportunity to get really close to him before he started seeing flaws in himself and withdrew from the rest of them out of fear. It's not his fault nor is it the elder's fault. 

The nurse tells him that they'll call the psychiatric ward to ask if it's okay. 

14 minutes later the nurse enters again to tell Baekhyun that it's okay. That he can go see Minseok in the psychiatric ward for 30 minutes or so. He'll be followed there by another nurse so he doesn't get lost and there'll be someone inside the room with them to observe Minseok during the meeting because of his circumstances but other than that, it'll be okay. 

Baekhyun thinks he hears the underlying 'so you don't do anything that could get you admitted to the psychiatric ward as well'.

It seems the entire hospital staff knows that his journal screams Bulimia Nervosa and Baekhyun dislikes it with everything he has, but still, he can't deny that everything Jihyun has been telling him in the afternoons doesn't sound true. 

Baekhyun hasn't told her many things. In all honesty, he hasn't really told her anything worth telling anyone. He has mostly been speaking about Chanyeol or his fans. Nothing about himself. But Jihyun usually tells him about how he feels and it's scaring the shit out of him. So he closes his mouth. It does leave an impact on Baekhyun though. 

He sighs as he nods and gets out of bed. He hates the IV drip in his left hand and the stand he has to carry with him. He dislikes the pajamas he's wearing that screams patient and he can't stand the way the other patients look at his bandaged arm. Yes, he's got a wound there, so what. It's not like they know what really happened. 

He sighs as he follows the nurse to the psychiatric department. At least, he'll soon be out.

☆★☆

Minseok refuses to eat. It's rewarding, somehow, to stare into the doctor's eye and shake his head no whenever they try to tell him that he needs to eat. He doesn't. Sure, he's weak but he survived so far, he'll get to 37 and then he'll stop. He just needs those last few kilograms, the last few persistent kilograms. 

The doctors look frustrated. As if they've never dealt with someone as stubborn as him. Minseok prides himself in that. Because he isn't ill. He doesn't need their pity, their help or their food.

The nurses sigh heavily before they enter his room with a little something, Minseok knows. He has an IV-drip in his left hand but it's only saline and saline isn't going to make him gain weight, so that's okay. He can deal with that. 

He just needs to convince them to let him go soon and he'll be fine. He can handle himself and his weight loss just fine.

The door opens and Minseok turns to look at the man in his doctor's coat. He looks serious, a little like he's dealt with too many mentally ill patients throughout his career to have any passion or empathy left in him. 

Minseok decides instantly that he doesn't like the doctor. The doctor doesn't seem to care when he gets closer.

"Minseok," he starts and Minseok winces at the sound of his voice. Whatever he's going to say, Minseok is going to disagree with it, he knows this already. 

It's probably because of his refusal to eat but Minseok has explained to so many people that he isn't ill, that he doesn't need to be here and that they'll all be better off if they just discharge him. Nobody seems to agree with Minseok though and it's only making him even more unwilling. 

"We're going to insert an NG-tube so we can make sure you get some nutrition in you. I'm just telling you this before the surgery so you're aware of it. We don't need your consent." Minseok stares at him. They can't do that, can they?

"You can't do that," he says and sounds more certain than he is. When he meets the doctor's eyes, there's almost a mocking glint in them. He enjoys Minseok's pain at the news.

"We can. I'm afraid you don't have any power as you've been involuntarily admitted. You need the NG-tube to survive, Minseok." With those words, he leaves and Minseok gapes at the door. No way. He doesn't want an NG-tube. He doesn't want them to force feed him. That's gross. It's gross. It should be against the law. He's not sick, he can eat himself. He can ... He can ...

Minseok succumbs to the panic attack that is lurking right around the corner and lets it shake his body as he drags his knees up under him and rocks back and forth. 

His slow heart is beating a little faster, his skin a little clammier and they're going to make him fat, they're going to make him fat. The vision that swims before his eyes is so disgusting that it almost makes him vomit involuntarily. 

He'll be back to fat Minseok. He'll be back to the kid with chubby cheeks and a stomach that hid his feet when he was standing. He'll be back at 60, he'll be back at 80. 

They'll laugh when they force feed him and all he will be able to do is look at the way his body bulges out again. 

He's been so good, he's lost so much. He can't go back now, he can't go back now. And he cries into his knees as the idea that there's nothing he can do settles in him.

☆★☆

Another nurse opens the white door and calls for Minseok. There's only one bed in the room but the form on the bed doesn't make any motion to turn around. Baekhyun stares at it. Was Minseok really this small? 

The sharp edges of the body on the bed is more prominent than he remembers Minseok ever being. The nurse tells him that there's someone to visit and nods to Baekhyun as if to tell him to move closer. So he does. 

He takes the seat at the edge of the bed, the nurse placing herself in a chair beside the door. He lets his left hand linger slowly over the form on the bed before he removes it again.

 Minseok looks as if he could break with just a touch. His bones are so visible that Baekhyun is convinced there is nothing but skin and bones in him. Logically speaking that isn't true, but Minseok doesn't look like there's anything else. 

"Hyung," he tries and Minseok turns around at the unexpected voice.

"Baek," he says and the two of them get eye contact. Baekhyun only barely contains his gasp when he notices the tape on the other's cheek, holding the tube going into his nose in place. His cheeks look tearstained but it's hard to tell and Baekhyun promises himself not to mention it. In all honesty, the eldest looks horrible. 

Baekhyun takes a deep breath before he sends him a smile.

It's like watching a skeleton shift in the bed and smile faintly but even Minseok's smile doesn't reach his eyes. It creeps Baekhyun out. 

He wonders why he never noticed the other grow so small, how he never saw the life disappear from the other's eyes. Was he really that isolated? Did he really care so little about his band members that he hadn't noticed how Minseok had disappeared into nothingness? Was he really that selfish? 

A tiny voice in his mind tells him yes. Yes, he's so selfish, he's so horrible a friend that he didn't notice, that he didn't care. Minseok takes a deep breath and Baekhyun notices the way his chest visibly shift with the air he inhales. It makes him uncomfortable to be here.

Baekhyun doesn't want it to because Minseok is supposed to be his friend, Minseok is his friend, a brother in EXO. But here he is and it's like looking at death.

"Are you alright?" Minseok asks and Baekhyun realizes he hasn't said or done anything ever since he got in here. Ever since he made his presence known. He nods and sends Minseok a smile.

"Yeah, they say I can leave in another day or two when the wound is fully closed and there's only a slim chance it'll open with movement. I'm still not really allowed to use it though and they say the bandage has to stay on for another 2 weeks minimum to prevent infection." Baekhyun shrugs. It's not like it's the wound he cares about. There are other things on his mind, things that he's now starting to doubt. Minseok nods.

"That's good then. I'll be home soon as well." He sounds so certain that Baekhyun can't help but turn around to look at the nurse. She seems invested in her phone and it doesn't even look like she just heard what Minseok said. 

Baekhyun has a feeling Minseok isn't telling the truth, though. He hopes that Minseok isn't telling the truth.

"How much do you weigh?" he asks in a whisper and Minseok stares at him, as if trying to figure out why Baekhyun needs to know that. But Baekhyun really does need to know. Because it's scaring him. 

It's scaring him to see Minseok like this. And something inside of him tells him that it could be him. That he could be the skeleton in the bed with a tube down his nose if he hadn't been careful. 

If he had been better, this could have been him. But instead of making him feel sad that he isn't, it makes him feel relieved. Baekhyun knows it's a dangerous question but he needs to know. Minseok shrugs and his shoulders move under his skin so visibly that Baekhyun feels goosebumps at the sight.

"They say 40," Minseok says and lets his eyes drift towards the door. 

Baekhyun promises himself to tell Jihyun about Minseok. Because suddenly his dream goal of 45 is scaring him. He doesn't want to be Minseok. He doesn't want to turn into nothing but skin and bones. He bites his lower lip and nods. Maybe Jihyun will understand him for being such a bad friend. Maybe he's just made to disgust people but ... he can't fight himself anymore. 

As he leaves Minseok's room he makes a promise to himself to tell Jihyun that he wants her help. For real this time.

☆★☆

Minseok places his head on the pillow. He feels disgusting. He has never felt more disgusting in his entire life if he has to be honest. There has been another nurse to take his blood samples. 

They put in the NG-tube and he's been fed dinner. Without even opening his mouth, they had forced food into him in the most disgusting of ways. Minseok really wishes he could pull the NG-tube out but he feels so disheartened.

He just wants to go home, he just wants to shed the last 3 kg. so he can become really pretty. He doesn't want to be here when he isn't sick, but the atmosphere of the hospital is draining all of his energy. 

Jongdae had been there as well after Baekhyun. Jongdae comes every day to see him. Minseok doesn't get it. He doesn't really get anything these days. How anybody wants to talk to him when what they see isn't what he sees himself. 

He swallows the lump in his throat and closes his eyes. He doesn't belong here. Minseok doesn't want to die, that's not it. It's not a death wish. He just wants to be pretty. He just wants to belong somewhere, to be the one they all admire. To be the one they all like, to be the one in control. But as he lies in his bed he realizes he doesn't have control at all. 

There is nothing he can do from here. He isn't even allowed to walk, has been driven in a wheelchair every time he had to leave his room. And sure, he could get up from his bed and start walking around, burning off the calories they put into him. 

And maybe he will do exactly that when it's midnight and they're all sleeping.

When they can't hear him and he can bring the IV-solution with him so he can walk freely. Maybe he'll do a push-up or twenty. Maybe he will walk up and down the stairs in the hospital for an hour. Maybe he will. 

Because he can't let them ruin his progress. Not like this.