#i thought i was controlled w the meds but i guess not

[goatposter]

third night in a row I've woken up suddenly at 5:30am from a terrifying detailed nightmare about being attacked/stalked/watched. i just figured out (w the help of my dad) its probably seizure activity in my sleep. so im relieved its not ghosts warning me of my impending murder but also really sad and sad and sad now

[pink-vulpix]

.

[somber-sapphic]

Was wondering if I would be ok to request a sick reader with Wandanat where readers just come out of surgery (could be for anything, like injured on a mission, wisdom teeth etc) and they’re kind of loopy still, not really sure if it counts as a sick fix though so I don’t mind if it’s not your thing 😅

A Little Less Wisdom

〖Notes: Okay, I had my wisdom teeth out a few months ago and I thought I'd be funny after waking up. NO. I just cried. I cried a lot. And then I got confused and hit my ride home. It was a long day.〗

〖Summary: You need your wisdom teeth out.〗

〖Word Count: 1320〗

〖Pairing: Wandanat x Sick Reader〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Out of all of the problems you could face as a superhero, ‘impacted wisdom teeth’ was never on your list. It hadn’t even crossed your mind; it just wasn’t something you’d ever believed that you’d need to worry about. Maybe there was a part of you that considered the possibility, but when there were so many other more dangerous things to worry about dental health didn’t really make the top hundred.

But two weeks ago, when your girlfriends had noticed the way you were avoiding hard foods and the copious amounts of over-the-counter pain meds you were taking, they finally said something. It really didn’t click to you that anything was wrong until Natasha had brought it up, a look on her face that betrayed her true concern.

Once they had completed their makeshift intervention, you began to notice the real pain in your mouth and began to wonder how exactly you had ignored it in the first place. Your best guess was that something was always hurting from one battle or another, that this one just didn’t seem too pressing. That sprained ankle had been a worse issue than the tooth pain. Until you noticed it, of course.

After a checkup from Dr. Helen Cho (who reiterated over and over again that she was not a dentist) and a few x-rays later, you were found to have “severely impacted” wisdom teeth. Not just regularly impacted, but severely. Not only that, but it was all four of them. You didn’t do anything in halves.

Wanda had been shocked at how well you had been hiding your discomfort, while Natasha was more focused on helping you to feel better. She wanted you to have surgery as quickly as possible, stating her concerns about possible complications and expected recovery time.

This was her way of expressing her love, getting overly caught up on details, and making sure that everything was 100% taken care of so that neither you nor Wanda had to worry. She was a wonderful girlfriend.

The day of the surgery came and went, a mission getting in the way of your dental care. This didn’t particularly bother you, part of you (as embarrassed as you felt) was incredibly nervous about the operation. You had read up about it in secret and had learned about every single complication ever recorded in human history.

This was, of course, a bad idea. Now you were panicking about dry-socket, nerve damage, infection, and possible death as a result of the anesthetic. The idea of being completely out of control of your surroundings was not one that you particularly enjoyed.

Unfortunately, beings who wanted to destroy the human race could only keep you from getting your wisdom teeth out for so long. The day arrived and you were mildly freaking out about it. Wanda, who could literally sense your emotions, had been trying to keep you calm by distracting you with silly little tasks and offering small comforts.

Natasha was less subtle about her attempts to soothe you; she straight up hadn’t left your side the whole day. She kept murmuring reassurances to you while you watched some dumb TV show and had even done research of her own to combat what you had found. She combatted your fear with love and statistics. These two very different ways of trying to make you feel less anxious were working very well together to put you at ease.

You lay back in the dentist’s chair and stared with panic-filled eyes at your loving girlfriends who were hovering in the doorway, unable to enter the sterile field. Suddenly, a very loud thought filled your head.

It’s all going to be okay. Breathe. We’ll be right here. You’ll be okay.

It was hard to describe how it felt when Wanda projected a thought into your mind. You could tell that it wasn’t a thought of your own, it had a comforting feeling. A soft, gentle, loving feeling. It put you at ease more than the intravenous anesthetic that was being pumped into your body.

The last thing you felt as you closed your eyes was that lingering emotion that Wanda had pushed into your mind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“They’re waking up,” Natasha murmured, nudging Wanda slightly. The witch looked up from her phone where she had been anxiously tapping away at some game, a look of relief flooding her face. The two women stared down at you, both smiling as your beautiful e/c eyes fluttered open.

“Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?” Wanda cooed softly, reaching out to brush a few strands of hair out of your lashes. You opened your mouth as if about to speak, but then closed it again. You repeated the motion a few times, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you started to reach up for your mouth.

“No no no, let’s not do that. We’ve gotta leave that alone for now, okay?” The brunette chastised, quickly pulling your hand away. You pulled a pout, but the time it took for you to actually change your expression was absolutely hilarious. It took you a full five seconds to register that something had been said and react to it.

“Mh mufh iffmahds.” You mumbled around the gauze, the words you were trying to say lost around the cotton fabric stuffed into your mouth. Natasha leaned forward and bent down to kiss your head, leaving her lips there for a few moments to express her relief. She knew that nothing bad would happen to you, but the anxiety was always going to be there.

“Just rest baby, we’ll talk when you’re a little more awake.” She said kindly, grabbing Wanda’s hand as your eyes fell closed again. The redhead turned to her and grinned before kissing her soft pink lips.

“They’ll be okay Wands.” She reassured, resting her forehead against Wanda’s.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The peace of you being sort of asleep only lasted for twenty or so minutes. This time when you woke back up, you were ready to go. You quite literally came up swinging, your eyes wide and yelling something that neither of your girlfriends could understand through the gauze.

“Woah! Calm down, it’s alright babe, it’s okay.” Natasha said, reaching over to grab your fists.

“The chicken! The chicken’s comin’!” You cried, forcing the words out as you struggled against the grasp of your concerned girlfriend.

“What are you talking about? There’s no chicken!” The redhead replied, sounding frantic as she dodged a kick aimed at her face. You weren’t fully coherent, but your fighting skills were still very much intact. You had trained for this and were using your training to keep yourself safe from the aforementioned chicken.

“Robot chickens! So many, too many, can’t do it, gotta go!” You spat out, starting to get out of the reclining chair. You made it halfway up before falling back again, not entirely prepared for the weight of gravity. Gravity was hard.

“Y/n, Y/n. Listen to me. There are no chickens, okay? We’re in medical, you had surgery, and it’s all okay. Relax babes. You’re safe. It's just Nat and me.” Wanda soothed, putting every bit of calming energy into her voice. She felt bad for using witchcraft on you to alter your emotions, but she needed to calm you down as quickly as possible.

Thankfully, it worked. You sat back and relaxed, your body going limp against Natasha’s. You quite literally fell against your favorite assassin but remained conscious this time, breathing heavily as you relaxed again.

“I don’t like poultry.” You grumbled, nuzzling your face into Natasha’s shoulder. The redhead laughed softly, and Wanda let out a weary sigh, a grin spreading over her face. The operation was over, but it was becoming more and more obvious that that had been the easy part. Now they had to deal with an incredibly confused, slightly high you who would probably remember absolutely none of this.

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[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 6 thoughts

today's adventure with our favorite agents didn't really do a lot for me but. at least it wasn't super sad? so let's go? i guess?

liveblog begins NOW!

this episode sounds like it is gonna make me squeamish. extremely so. and also i just read the rest of the episode descriptions for the season and i’m sad so i really hope this is SOMEHOW a happy one. hey, listen, it’s possible!

author’s note: sometimes i hate being right. sometimes i hate thinking, boy, this sure looks like it’s gonna make me feel lightheaded, and it does.

oh, how i look forward to diving into the fluff fic recommendations from my last post…. <3 

but we must suffer through canon, no?

we open with someone about to undergo some liposuction, a thing i have never wanted to see. the patient is being wheeled in and the doctor is being informed of what kind of appointment he has next. the doctor is really really scrubbing his hands to the point i thought he was shaking and OH! his hands are very bloody. oh. i do not think that is clean. 

oh god i’m in for a rough ride this episode aren’t i, i realize as we see him bleed through his gloves and begin the surgery. OHHHHH an incision. I AM NOT LOOKING I AM NOT LOOKING. i am looking a little OUGH is THAT what this procedure looks like from the doctor’s end??? oh my gosh. oh man. the… sucking…

deep breathing.

the nurse goes to see a different patient and explains she doesn’t know where the doctor is. the doctor is… currently REALLY going ham on the sucking. WHAAAA we see the blood fill up the tube and oh man i’m not joking like straight up being so honest w you i can feel my body growing faint. i actually did not look at the screen until the intro because that was too close for me. and yes i understand he was….um. going TOO hard.

oh mein gott… the things i do for these two agents….

save me intro. save me pretty picture of scully. and that scene where they burst in with the guns and flashlights. save me.

okay. i’ve regained most of my feeling in my head. now the doctor is here, very sorrowfully explaining how he was watching himself do those things without having any control over it.

ah, he is speaking to mulder, who suggests that it may be spirit or demon possession. 

so mulder and scully are here talking to the doctor, but the lawyer says he did NOT want mulder talking to him lmaooo. 

scully asks what meds he’s taking and the lawyer again shuts them down. rude as hell. she wants to know about his sleeping pills. let her doctor as needed tf

oh…. scully going straight into a detailed explanation of how his medication worked <3 i just love her… this is why i suffer through the fat sucking (which has now occurred multiple times??)

why is mulder eyeing this nurse. don’t think i didn’t notice that…

this doctor was taking more than a sleeping pill a day, and she says it has controversial effects, so maybe that could make a guy do such a thing. it’s a good start to a theory.

she seems mad as hell that this space is being used for cosmetic surgery and not as a hospital and i love that she has some righteous rage going on there… let her save some damn lives!! 

“everyone’s doing it… or so i’ve heard” <- the thought of mulder getting plastic surgery is so silly… like is he not already the most gorgeous fellow alive

mulder’s on the floor looking at some weird marks and drawing a pentagram in the victim’s blood. average behavior for a guy like him. not convincing to scully, however.

scary facts with scully: deaths due to doctor's errors are upwards of 80,000 a year! that’s horrific and for my own sanity i’m not going to google how those stats have changed 

“i don’t think it’s a simple possession, scully, i think it’s sorcery or black magic or something like that” (said with his hands on his hips in the standard mulder pose) love him so bad…. please recite to me the different levels of magic in order of complexity

they run into the nurse who was on call at the time the sucking incident went down, and she is like idk how it could happen… but when mulder tells her the doctor is claiming he was possessed, she says “i guess it’s cheaper than malpractice insurance” LMAO i like her… don’t tell me she was the one doing the sorcery or something, let us have one nice side character who makes it out alive 

(author's note: ...)

then the agents try to talk to a doctor, but she says the patient can’t wait, which sparks more scully bitterness. mulder is watching the surgery stream. weird fellow

cutscene to a table with a conspicuous pentagram on it. someone is saying they need to keep calm. it seems they are the doctors at the facilities?

okay, so another procedure is going on. the patient says she’s getting a skin peel but the nurse is putting LEECHES ON HER?? man what the hell is going on here. and it’s the nice nurse who is doing it too 😭😭😭

mulder is making faces in the mirror now, seeming to mull the possibility of getting rhinoplasty over LMAOOO but scully knocks at his door… it’s video time!! woohoo, pop that bad boy in the VHS player!!

aww, it’s not a fun time video. it’s the video of the killing, and mulder claims to see a pentagram. scully is gagged that the doctor stabbed/sucked the dude to death, but i’m choosing to focus here on her beautiful freckles…..

he’s saying that a pentagram is for protection, so it wouldn’t even make sense, BUT “it does make sense that witchcraft or black magic would find a theater in a place like this, preying on the weak and vainglorious” <- woah... he's a philosopher

get yourself a man who can explain the positive connotations of pentagrams and other nerd stuff with 100% sincerity

oh my god, mulder is sitting on the bed and looking up at scully here, and i need it FRAMED. do you know the scene i’m talking about? i’d give you the time stamp if i had it. the way he’s looking at her…. oh my goodness... my heart. 

the stomach pills the doctor was taking had an ingredient used in hexing rituals. live scully response: “well, if it’s that simple, why don’t you put out an APB for someone riding a broom and wearing a tall black hat?” <- LMAOOOO get his ass

he scrunches up his nose at this comment and oh my gosh. oh… i want to hold this grown man.

BUT he is saying the ritual might not be over yet, while he stares up at her so adoringly, and man… i’m so sensitive 

okay back to the hospital, where this shady coalition of doctors seems to be debriefing. the nurse is there, who i am now suspicious of for engaging in leech-related activities. 

oh! one of the other doctors went into a patient’s room and started burning their face with a laser. luckily, this is visually unrealistic enough for me to not nearly faint this time.

so this doctor who did the face lasering- dr. ilaqua- is now being seen by scully. and he is on the same sleeping medication as the first guy!!!

back at a computer, mulder is looking at before and after rhinoplasty pictures. NO... i love his nose… he had BEST NOT DO A DAMN THING to it. and he’s holding a pencil up to test how straight his nose is and MY MAN. STOP. you are beautiful. who told you otherwise. i love his nose.........

oh! the leeches were used to make a pentagram on the victim’s body. this is not a good sign.

this creepy panel of doctors is meeting again when the agents arrive and do not give a fuck about their meeting. yes!! more agents walking into places without knocking!!! it is my favorite! it sustains me!

scully says she’s sorry to barge in but it’s a matter of urgency whilst not looking sorry in the slightest. which suits her!

and one of the doctors- dr. franklyn- is explaining that there were similar deaths 10 years ago… and they’re pinning the blame on the nurse!!! saying she was there 10 years ago and just transferred back in!!!

i do not believe it in the slightest that if she IS involved in this, she is doing it on her own. but the doctor says she left early. where to?

well, the camera takes us to go do some creepy chanting, of course! in a room filled with candles and statues and jewelry. and she’s naked i think too which is a risk around so many open flames. okay and now some hair is being cut. but it’s not the nurse who is doing the chanting nor the trimming. whoever it is seems to be falling asleep. 

the agents are here, and it is dark, and they are not messing around. they are going to this creepy house. with a cat meowing and a broom on the steps! i see what you did there.

mulder jokes that the broom gives them probable cause LMAO and then he starts to open the door as if it actually does… only to find a pentagram!!! dun dun DUUUUN!

it’s kicking the door down time, a good time in my opinion. where they hold the flashlight in one hand and the gun in the other… yeah. always a showy move. never gets old.

oh no!! scully finds the ritual space!! what could she have been doing in here?, she asks... girl i think you know damn well lmao

dr. franklyn from the council is coming home to his mansion… and his lights won’t turn on. that’s suspicious. that’s weird. 

it’s very very quiet as he goes into his bathroom… AND FINDS SOMETHING WRITTEN ON BLOOD IN THE WALL!!

it looks like latin which i sadly cannot read :(

well, it could be blood OR lipstick, all things considered

and the tub is flowing with blood which is not a welcome sight. as he stares at his reflection like narcissus, something LEAPS out and GETS HIM!! so now there is a very bloody person loose in his house!!

he goes to call 911 but gets put on hold… as this person is going to TOWN on him with a knife. 

the agents roll up and we see that it is the NURSE who is covered in the blood and just did the stabbing!!!! she says she needs to be let go, but i’m not gonna lie, i think that would be a very bad idea. mulder wants to chat. she’s saying she’s trying to stop “them”, but they’re too powerful… and then she… chokes up needles?? oh. and blood. 

scully says get her in surgery NOW and also i’m going with her to the ER. while mulder looks at all the pins on the ground from her insides and then PICKS ONE UP???? the germs…..

so dr. franklyn got away and is being stitched up by one of the other doctors. they are not seeming to be enjoying the witchcraft theory. mulder watches dr. franklyn lay down in his bed and then when he leaves he starts to levitate!!!! what!!! and he’s smiling while doing this!!!

who are these weirdos…

it’s 3:40 AM and mulder has his demon books out, but really he’s looking at himself again in the mirror. bro is insecure and it’s making me sad. 

a knock at the door. scully!! at nearly 4 am. “god, you look tired”, says mulder, in a way that expresses concern rather than being mean. and she actually doesn’t look tired at all because it’s TV, but i’ll suspend my disbelief again. 

anyway, the nurse died from throwing up hundreds of pins. but how did they get IN there…

it has to be allotriophagy, says mulder, consulting his witchcraft encyclopedia! when you’re possessed and cough up strange and horrible things! which i shall use as an excuse next time i need to call in sick to work.

he stole the book from the nurse’s house, and also a calendar, where he found april 30th starred. and he explains it is one of the “four greater witches’ Sabbaths”, a natural thing for an FBI agent to know! /s

oh get this… the high holy days correspond to the birthdays of the victims!!! so that would be a good way to predict who is next.. but mulder says the nurse was trying to protect them with the pentagram, and she must have known something about dr. franklyn!!

so the doctors are talking about having a good thing going and people trying to take it away… i guess they're all in on this?

dr. franklyn has another procedure coming up, but the other doctor is like no dude you look terrible and you can’t mess this up, we'll get shut down, i’m doing it 

and gasp!! there is a patient going in that was born on one of the holy days!!! and that patient is going into surgery right now!

OH MY GOSH HE BURNED HER FACE OFF. THERE IS NO FACE LEFT. WHAT. WHAT DID I JUST SEE. 

so now they’re talking to another doctor, dr. shannon. they’re talking about how they successfully covered up the death cases from 10 years ago because they have made a TON of money doing plastic surgery. she says 4 patients died and a doctor named dr. cox worked himself to death. hmm...

mulder says to run dr. cox's photo through a cosmetic program… and it makes dr. franklyn… woah… spoooooky……

now we hear some labored scraping as dr. franklyn is doing knife twisting. carving… something. very sweatily. gross.

mulder’s theory is that dr. cox killed those patients in order to become dr. franklyn through some blood sacrifice to make himself pretty. i mean... did it work? let’s discuss. he looks fine, but not "i killed four people to look this good" fine.

now he’s getting some more tools… and he’s hurting the other doctor, dr. shannon!! with his mind! he didn’t even touch her!

mulder is at dr. franklyn's house with scully and they have their guns. god they’re beautiful. and she’s standing on a pentagram!! that has been inverted!!! 

“they represent the goat of lust attacking heaven with its horns”, he says about the pentagram <- he’s SUCH a nerddddd omfggg

and he wrote in all the names of the patients he killed in his carving!! including dr. shannon!!! uh oh...

and they’re bringing dr. shannon in for surgery, saying she swallowed something.

dr. franklyn is…. cutting into his scalp. i am not looking so don’t worry. 

mulder says do not let them operate on dr. shannon!!!!

oh my goodness, franklyn is just. cutting into his face. and i’m not looking but i am HEARING. the noises that are being produced.

they’re cutting into shannon and bleh. blehhh.

scully bursts in and says stop the surgery NOW!! and they’re all, who tf are you, get out of here!!! but she says i am a DOCTOR you need to LISTEN TO ME!! i love when she does that!

mulder is on the prowl for dr. franklyn. and he sees that he made a pentagram in blood. OH MY GOD HE CUT HIS OWN FACE OFF?? and left it there like a snake shedding it’s skin 😭😭

they pulled a ton of surgical instruments out of dr. shannon… so mulder says franklyn must have failed to complete his ritual….

but he managed to kill some other person who was born on halloween…. okay, that wasn’t a happy ending….

OH! dr. franklyn has a NEW FACE and is now getting a job in LA!

so… he’s just gonna… keep doing successful surgeries for 10 years and then take a little break to go on a killing spree, get a new face, and dip?

well. at least he sticks to a schedule?

um. okay. so what am i thinking here….

well, i did nearly faint many times. i am not looking forward to editing my notes and reliving that. i do not think this is an episode i would give a rewatch based on how i reacted to it.

but, the last few episodes have been super dark, and this one somehow felt… lighter? despite everything. we got some jokes in there and some silly time. and even if it ended on a “oh no, he’s still out there!” reveal, it was somehow less emotionally draining than the last few. 

was it ridiculous? yes. but was it also kind of refreshing after the last two episodes? also yes! which i think is a testament to how dark things have been rather than the quality of this episode. 

it was fine. it didn’t really do a whole lot for me. i mean, interesting to think of plastic surgery as devil worship, i guess, but potentially a reductive take. idk. i guess i don’t really spend a lot of time thinking about these things. 

things i DID like in this episode: that conversation mulder had with scully, where he was sitting on the bed looking up at her like he was going to ask for her hand in marriage or to be best friends forever and ever or talk about the meaning of being alive or some similar topic. it was so terribly tender. also, facts with scully! tell me about controversial drugs!! and mulder, tell me about the symbolism of a pentagram! i love these nerds! that was kind of it, though.

it was an episode. an episode with some good things and some meh things. that’s sort of par for the course. just… next time, less surgery. please. for me?

[stonerskinny]

my scale told me i weigh 279.8 and then also 275.8 like twenty seconds apart and now that i am ~alone~ i want to check like five times and get an average but i have drank an entire bottle of gatorade so i think that’s gonna skew things

i am 50 hours into this fast and i desperately do not want to break it but i know im gonna have to tmrw morning before i take my new med because otherwise i’ll absolutely throw it right back up

considering just breaking it now to get things moving but im scared ill binge because im high and that was my routine for like a month

i think i have lost absolutely no weight because somehow i look noticeably larger and more bloated i swear like maybe i don’t know what i look like but i just know its worse

suicidal thoughts r strooooong tonight which is so unfortunate because you’d think at this point i could at least be glad im still fasting but i just feel like it’s too early to break it. i am kind of an extremist can u tell

think i will chill for a minute and then try to go to sleep at a semi decent hour so i can get up at like 9, take my thyroid med, break my fast w some celery (& somehow still feel guilty abt it) and then take my vyvanse

and then i’ll just start another one even tho ill be promptly breaking it the next morning to take my med, because fuck me

i know i should probably ease back into this a little slower but where’s the fun in that

okay i’ve now been awake long enough that i want to binge. although i think i just want to self harm actually and that’s a good way to do it. i cannot break my fast in the middle of the fucking night!!!! what is WRONG WITH ME!!!!!!!

maybe i WILL take my meds on an empty stomach tmrw morning and just suffer the inevitable nausea that will cause in order to punish myself for even thinking about binging. like a cat with a spray bottle ✌️

a round of b/p just sounds so fun tho. me likey the head rush

guess we’ll see if i have any self control!

[doberbutts]

I just saw your post about how testosterone has helped your disability tremendously, which if I remember correctly is hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (but maybe I’m wrong). I’m agender and have been considering early menopause to help with my abundance of menstrual health issues, but if t helped your hEDS too that makes me really want to consider it further. If this is too private you absolutely don’t have to answer it but I’d love to know more as a fellow disabled person.

It's POTS actually :) though POTS is highly comorbid with hEDS and I *am* hypermobile, to a degree that I made my physical therapist wince with how easily I can assume positions that should noooooot be possible without pain when I was in recovery due to my car accident. She actually asked me if I have EDS and I said well I have POTS so... not officially but is it possible sure I guess.

So no, I do not have hEDS. But also yes I might have hEDS. Schroedinger's diagnosis.

No, testosterone helped my POTS symptoms disappear to almost nothing. This is at least partially because POTS does not get along with estrogen ans menstrual cycles, and taking testosterone lowered the estrogen in my body and also stopped my menstural cycle. Don't get me wrong, I still have some symptoms, but they are dramatically improved. I can do all sorts of things I used to not be able to.

There is... a bit of debate whether I have POTS at all. But I do have MCAS and, as said, I'm hypermobile, so very likely yes POTS is very likely. But with my NCAH diagnosis, it's equally possible that I *do not* have POTS, because NCAH also causes weird changes to your vasovagal response and your autonomic nervous system. In other words, do I have POTS AND NCAH... or do I just have NCAH?

Personally I don't really care because adding testosterone fixed the symptoms way better than anything the POTS meds were doing so w/e, if it works it works.

It's "makes you intersex and sometimes gay disease but also you faint a lot and your body *really* sucks at handling stress disease". To be fair the classic form of CAH can just outright kill you if not well controlled. Nonclassic CAH by comparison sometimes still tries really hard but is less likely to do more than give you some serious medical trauma.

So like. Am I fainting because my body doesn't know how to handle stress which triggers a response of my autonomic nerve and because my adrenal glands are too busy making androgens to give me some fucking cortisol to communicate with my autonomic nerve, the thing guesses wrong and I hit the ground as my body attempts the biology version of "have you turned it off and then back on again"? Or am I the unluckiest fucker on the planet and I have two annoyingly underdiagnosed but much more common than we thought disorders which both hate estrogen and make me faint a lot?

Or, bonus, since POTS joins PCOS in the "disorder named for a symptom that's not even diagnostuc criteria and no one actually knows what causes it" family, is what we're calling "POTS" actually a group of symptoms that has a wide range of causes and my cause for my own symptoms IS NCAH? Who knows 🤷‍♂️

[crispy-ghee]

Thank you <3

It was interesting bc I was aware that antidepressants could fuck w/ your bipolar (had previous experience w/ that in college argh), but I was on a mood stabilizer that quite a few other people I knew who also had bipolar were taking at the time. And it worked for me for a while, but I guess mental health is not always a straight and stable road. I just never thought that the medication I was taking *for* bipolar was actually going to make me actively worse.

I still have my moments (luckily, I can predict when those are going to be, now that I've stabilized after taking the new meds the past few months, and can up my doses/circumvent my behavior in response), I can only stabilize my bipolar, I can't make it *go away*, but I'm in a much better place than I was even back in September.

I can count a huge number of situations these past few months where I would've spiraled and lost my shit if I hadn't made these adjustments in my life. Things are still hard in their own ways, I can't control the things *outside* my head, and there have been really difficult things going on in my life this last quarter of the year, but the fact that I haven't completely imploded yet despite some crushing, fucked up pressure is promising in and of itself.

Anyway, I'm resilient, stubborn-ass motherfucker. Sure things have been sad. Things have been hard. But I'm gonna get through to the other side just like I always have, punching and roaring (in a healthier way now lol).

[icharchivist]

Ok I need to tell someone (already told my brother but I was being reassuring w/ him and i want to be dramatic)

I ALMOST LOST MY FINGER

MY RING FINGER ON MY LEFT HAND

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

so I have a family ring i wear on that finger, and yesterday i twisted my ankle, fell and caught myself by my hands, and the edges of the ring are sharp enough i guess that it cut my finger 2-3 mm into my FLESH on the bottom of the ring, where the finger connects with the palm

and I have anxiety, so as one does I stressed over it BUT told noone because I wanted it to like, go away on its own. I put mercurochrome on it and then i assumed it was good.

the part that is important to understand is that because I am fat, but I put on the ring on that finger when I weighed 10 kilos less, the ring is stuck on. I have not taken off the ring in YEARS. and i still couldnt take it off because, despite the fact that it hurt, I didn't magically lose those 10 kilos when I fell.

so I went to bed. because i am on a pain medication (hip problems) i didn't notice any bad pain, but oh boy. The ring was still there. And whilst I control my hand movements during the day, when I sleep it's a fucking PARTY apparently because when I woke up, the finger...

whilst it was not cut off!! the cut was deeper!!!! by a few mm!!!!!!!

and it still did not hurt, and also barely bled (because the blood flow on that finger was not ideal due to the ring), so i put a bandaid on and did my things. including DRAGGING A FULLY LOADED GROCERY CART AROUND WITH MY LEFT HAND

but then i was like "it hurts a lot" and then remembered that since i am on pain meds, it must HURT A LOT A LOT

so i went to the pharmacy, when the lady took one look at it and went "you have to go to the emergency room" and I went "why?" (because im a MORON) to which she answered "you are going to loose your finger? if you don't take off that ring that is CUTTING YOUR FINGER OFF??? theyre gonna cut it off at the emergency room" and THANK GOD WE'RE FRENCH because "ils vont la couper" was gendered of course but now writing it back in english it sounds like she meant my finger haha but no she meant they're gonna cut the ring at the emergency room

the ermergency room

the room that is for emergencies

the room that is for emergencies that I toooootally went to

....

so i, after hearing her advice, i did not heed her advice, and did NOT go to the emergency room (i don't have a car)

...

BECAUSE I AM SMART and remembered there was a jeweler on the same street, so I went to the jeweler, and he said "?didn't they tell you to go to the emergency room?" and I said "can't you do it?" and he was super nice and careful, whilst he cut off the ring - the ring which belonged to my dead grandma, that she gave me to remind me that our family would always be there for me even if they passed (like SHE DID - jk at the time she meant my dead uncle, not her, she was alive when she gave it to me) so yeah i feel SUPER GUILTY ABOUT CUTTING IT OFF BUT IT WAS IT OR ME FINGER still i feel guilty about it

and then i went back to the pharmacy and the lady was like "yOU CUT IT OFF YOURSELF????" because she knew I was back after only 15 minutes or so, and she knows where I live (since its my neighbourhood pharmacy) so I think she thought I went back to my flat to do it myself haha

I reassured her I hadn't, and i showed her the cut and she went "hmmm ok doesnt need stitches.... .... ...............for now" ?????????????? then she gave me a product to help it heal+scar safely, and she sent me on my merry way so i guess in the end im all good................... .for now

(I typed this message veeeeeery carefully I swear)

(thank you for listening haha)

oh my fucking GOD JULIETTE??? THAT'S TERRIFYING??????

it somehow gets worse in worse in each paragraphes and it starts out PRETTY BAD TO START WITH

Although now i can't help but be a bit worried, i admit i'm also amazed and horrified by how long it took to take care of it..... while also thinking about how with the combo anxiety+distance i probably would also have tried to ignore it until it goes away so i can't actually judge you on this one

I'm just glad it ended up being okay and you managed to work around it. So sorry the ring had to be cut for it though :( but i guess you can see it as payback. it did cut you first after all!

I do understand the need to be dramatic to deal with this situation and i'm glad you did it here though. At least it's ending well.

And DO be careful with your hands now :o

anyway i wish you a good recovery and good luck with your new bandage-themed-ring that will hopefully make this situation easier.

Take care!!!

[whats-wild-to-you]

Dr. Daredevil (Jay Park AU)

Jaebeom

The blood in my veins turned to ice when my eyes landed on her. Even though she stood several feet away from me, I was still able to recognize her.

Her whole attitude changed when she realized I was walking right up to her. I knew she expected me to recognize her, to greet her, but I wouldn't. Couldn't, actually. Not when my career, my whole existence was on the line.

What the hell is she doing here?

A week went by before I saw Chaeyeon again. I was turning the corner when I saw her examining the OR board. Then she grabbed a piece of chalk and put her name on my surgery.

I don't think so, sweetheart!

The coast was clear when I approached the OR board, looking left and right to make sure I was really alone, before I erased her name.

The next time I walked past the OR board I saw her name again.

"Stupid woman!" Instead of erasing it again, I called my nurse and had her push the surgery back. There was no way I would let Baek Chaeyeon into my OR.

Getting rid of that pesky woman proved to be more difficult than I thought. The next morning I saw her running after me, getting onto the same elevator.

"Any interesting surgeries planned for today?" She asked, and I had to hold myself back from rolling my eyes at her.

Would she ever give up?

"Sorry. My OR is full." The doors of the elevator opened, and I escaped immediately, my feet instinctively carrying me far far away from her.

Fortunately I didn't run into her anymore that day. Hours later I got word that she was in the OR.

Good, at least now she won't come and ask me for OR time.

Late at night I packed up my things, ready to leave. I needed to talk to my grandfather. This situation with Chaeyeon could easily get out of control and he was the only one who could do something about it.

"Well, she needs to get fired then!" My grandfather remarked dryly as soon as I had finished briefing him about Chaeyeon.

"Fire her?"

I didn't intend to sound so shocked but I guess I felt some kind of pity for her. When I entered the parking garage, I caught her talking on the phone with someone. As I listened in, I realized she must've been talking to her bank. If she had money problems, firing her wouldn't exactly bode well.

"What do you suggest?" My grandfather snarled, but I remained quiet. This was one of his rhetorical questions. He didn't actually need my input. "That we let her into your OR so she can destroy you and the family name?"

"I'll come up with something! Don't do anything for now."

Two Years Ago

"There was nothing you could've done. The patient was very sick when he came to us, you knew this. We did our best. It's not your fault he died during surgery."

Except that it was!

I was only in my second year of residency, still wet behind the ears, but I had to act haughty and refuse Dr. Song's help.

"Dr. Park, you got this, right?" He had asked me the day before the surgery.

"Of course!" I had replied full of confidence.

I didn't have it.

My palms were sweaty, my hands shaking so much I couldn't hold the instruments still long enough to cut out the patient’s tumor.

An experienced doctor, a capable doctor, would be done by now, a small voice in my head said mockingly.

I looked up, locking eyes with Nurse Jung. Two years ago when I had started my internship, I had met her at a bar not too far from the hospital. We both got drunk and I ended up in her bed and in her, well, in her.

Seeing her a few weeks later in the hospital, I wanted the earth to swallow me, but then she approached me first, letting me know she wasn't angry that I never called her back.

Soon I found out that she could be of great assistance to me. She had actually gone to med school, but had to drop out. She never told me the reason why, but it didn't matter anyway. What mattered was that she knew a lot, much more than me, and was irreplaceable in my OR. From then on I requested her for all of my surgeries, sparking rumors among the hospital staff that we might be lovers.

‘Dr. Song, don't worry. None of the rumors are true! She's just a really good nurse and we work really well together.’

Dr. Song had hired me on the spot. No probation. I had my grandfather to thank for that, which meant he probably dished up Dr. Song some pretty impressive lies about my qualifications.

The old man never seemed to care about how I would cope with things. How I would make the other doctors and the patients believe in those lies.

I was supposed to be a great surgeon. A prodigy. In reality I was just mediocre. At best.

"Well, then take her. I trust in your abilities Dr. Park. Maybe I should give you both a raise?" He joked and I bowed my head before leaving his office.

~

"Dr. Park, good morning!"

A very chipper Nurse Jung walked up to me, taking the briefcase off my hands.

"Your bypass surgery has been pushed back. There's an emergency patient waiting for you in OR 3." She spoke low, her voice calm but firm. Reassuring.

"I see."

"The patient is prepped. We're ready for you."

"The usual team?"

"Of course."

I quickly entered the locker room, changing into my scrubs. While in med school, I was dreaming every day about those scrubs. Back then, they were like a superhero uniform to me. Now they suffocated me.

Stepping out of the locker room, I glanced to my left and right.

"Dr. Park!"

Great! Of all times she had to run into me now!

"Not now, Dr. Baek, I'm busy!"

I didn't even give her a chance to speak. I knew I had to steer clear of Baek Chaeyeon. I just didn't know how I would do it!

After inhaling a few deep breaths, I pushed the door to the OR open.

I scanned the room. They were all here. Nurses Jung and Choi and the man of the hour.

Dr. Kang.

"Good morning, everybody! Let's get started."

Nurse Jung stood to my right, while Dr. Kang and Nurse Choi stood on the other side of the table.

The patient was already put under when Nurse Jung handed me the scalpel. She whispered in my ear, guiding my hand to where I needed to make the incision.

"There!"

I felt it too and started cutting a 7-inch long incision line. Then Jung handed me the rib spreader and I felt the bile in my mouth. I placed it inside the patient's sternum and slowly spread his ribs.

Dr. Kang was watching my every move, his hands fidgety to snatch the scalpel off my hand.

"What now?" I mumbled and felt all eyes on me.

"Now you take a step back and let me operate."

Sighing a breath of relief, I took several steps back, while Dr. Kang and the two nurses hovered over the patient.

"You know, when I say step back, I don't mean for you to actually stand in the corner. You can still watch, maybe you'd learn a thing or two!" Dr. Kang mumbled behind his surgical mask and I knew exactly he was smiling.

"Why? I have you!"

Dr. Kang's hands paused for a second as he looked up to me. "Yeah, but for how long?"

On the outside it looked like me and Kang Hyuntae were friends. Colleagues thought I was Hyuntae's mentor. Only he and I knew what our relationship was really like.

Kang Hyuntae was talented, hard-working and a fast learner. Due to personal reasons he tanked his intern year and had to take his intern exam twice. From then on he was regarded as unreliable and lazy. But I knew what he was capable of, I knew I needed him on my team.

We started our internship together and at first I didn’t know that about his failed intern exam. I just knew he was already a much better doctor than me. I befriended him, and a few months later introduced him to my grandfather. He did a thorough background check on him and knew he had financial problems.

My grandfather offered to sponsor Kang Hyuntae in return for him lending me his hands.

Kang Hyuntae agreed immediately and so our special relationship began. As soon as Nurses Jung and Choi had been vetted by my grandfather as well, he spread the word about his genius grandson working at SNUH. Patients from all over the country came to Seoul to see me, get a consultation from me, and be operated on by me.

It gave my ego a boost, but every night when I lied awake in my bed I was disgusted with myself. I was nothing. A quack. Kang Hyuntae was the star and at first I would sing him praises. But as time passed by, fame and image got into my head. I started believing my own lies. I was a medical prodigy. I was a God. The only time I would be humbled down was in the OR. Whenever I saw into Kang Hyuntae's eyes, I was reminded of who all the praise really belonged to.

Lately I had noticed a shift in Hyuntae's behavior. He was growing frustrated, agitated and restless. He had performed countless surgeries, and yet I had earned all the praise. He realized that as long as he worked with me, for me, he would never receive the recognition he deserved. In short, he was a ticking time bomb.

Chaeyeon

I exited the OR at the same time a young surgeon exited OR 3.

He cleared his throat and introduced himself to me.

"I think we haven't met yet. I'm Kang Hyuntae."

"Baek Chaeyeon."

Something about his name sounded familiar. Initially I couldn't remember where I've heard it before but then it dawned on me.

Every time Park Jaebeom's name showed up on the OR board, so did his.

"Did you just come out of Dr. Park's OR?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, yes. He needed an extra set of hands." Dr. Kang said, but was completely avoiding eye contact.

"See ya!" He waved at me, then disappeared.

For a moment I thought about waiting for Jaebeom to finish his surgery but since I didn't know how long it would take, the idea seemed incredibly stupid.

When I finally got off work I let myself get persuaded to join Ahn So Hee and Yoon Ahnjong for after-work drinks in the nearby bar. They had both taken pity on me, stating that it is important to have a little fun after work.

"All the hot doctors frequent there." So Hee winked at me.

If that was the case I was sure I'd run into Park Jaebeom sooner or later. Maybe that was worth checking the place out.

After ordering a round of drinks, we all sat at a table, Ahnjong's stare fixed on the entrance. I was sitting next to her and every time someone entered she would whisper his name in my ear.

"Are only doctors coming in here? I don't want to date someone from work!"

That was not entirely true but I was tipsy so I was blabbing.

When the door opened again I saw Kang Hyuntae walk in. Immediately Ahnjong leaned towards me.

"This is Kang Hyuntae, he's Park J-"

"I know. I've met him."

Drunk as I was, I waved him over to our table, the eyes of Ahnjong and So Hee threatening to bulge out of their sockets.

"Good evening, ladies!"

"Join us!" I slurred loudly and several heads turned in my direction. Kang Hyuntae smiled and sat down next to So Hee, who by the looks of it was close to hyperventilating.

I didn't blame her. Dr. Kang was tall, with long, wavy black hair and a nice body.

When I saw him earlier in his scrubs I couldn't tell just how ripped he was. But the tight white shirt he was wearing now left little to the imagination.

I saw him watching me closely as I downed my Vodka sour and went to the bar for more. I walked away from the table, intentionally swaying my hips more than was necessary, and heard him almost choking on his drink.

When I walked back to our table he was gone and when I asked if he would come back, both So Hee and Ahnjong shook their heads.

"His master called him." So Hee slurred.

"His master?"

"Dr. Park." Ahnjong clarified. "You cut me off earlier when I wanted to tell you. Hyuntae is Dr. Park's friend."

"Friend ..."

"They're inseparable."

"Is that so! But why did you say master and not friend?"

Suddenly I wanted to learn more about this Kang Hyuntae and his relationship to Jaebeom. There was something mysterious about him, that much I knew.

-> next chapter

[evilichu]

a recap on my life this last couple of weeks

look if you just happened to stumble across this blog, i'm letting you know that this will have a lot of suicidal mentions and other cute little things about my mental illness (bpd). and this is just me talking about my life, it's not interesting

i had really strong suicidal thoughts. i started planning to do it, but not like in that same week cuz i had to write a ton of letters and buy more pills to make sure, you know?

but on one of those planning days i told my boyfriend i was feeling like shit, and since he was scared for me i reassured him that i would go out of my room and hang out w my mom —i'd be safe. so my mom saw me bawling my eyes out w no explanation and she decided to change my psychiatrist appointment to the very next day.

and that was the first time my psychiatrist ever saw me in a planning phase. it usually lasts a couple of days and then i'm ok for some time, and then it comes back and i go further on my plans.

so my psychiatrist (dr evangelina) kind of freaks out i think cuz she's never seen me so cynical and careless and just not ok. she changed my meds. and she warned my mom to keep an eye on me cuz i could do some wild shit.

later that day. i had a meeting and my boyfriend was acting weird as hell. but the thing is that i usually overthink so much that i don't even know wether i'm overthinking or sensing something real. but then he was dropping me off that night and i was like bro, u good? and he tried to break up with me.

yeah. so. i don't blame him, having to deal with something like this is so hard, and he explained that he felt like he could one day wake up and someone would tell him that i had killed myself and that it was too much for him to bear with.

i honestly respect him so much for telling me that. cuz yeah, i knew it was fucked up, but i don't know. i think him trying to break up with me shook me to my core. and i snapped out of it.

don't get me wrong, right then and there i was like ok i guess i'm getting out of this car and killing myself cuz what's stopping me now. but at the same time i couldn't, i couldn't let him go, i just started asking him to stay, and promising that i would do better.

at that moment, him leaving me scared me much more than dying. so i had to do something. at first i was just bullshitting, saying anything for him to take it back, but i didn't think he would so i didn't really mean it, i was just trying cuz i was desperate.

it was the most confusing shit ever honestly (at least for him) i laughed, cracked jokes, cried, hugged him, told him to not touch me when he tried to comfort me and then i asked for a hug again, i cried more, i wanted to scratch my eyes out, and then i laughed some more, and

he was insanely understanding. and he explained to me that he still loved me but he couldn't be in a relationship with this much uncertainty and so unstable. so this is when i took a while, and i understood.

so i agreed, and i promised that i wouldn't kill myself. mis planning-phase i explained that i could not control my own thoughts, but i would try to control what i did with them. i promised i wouldn't write any letters, and that i would stop stocking pills.

we didn't break up. he even asked for forgiveness about this whole thing a couple days later, and although i understand the guilt of trying to let go during hard times, there was nothing for me to forgive. he truly is the sweetest human on earth and i feel terrible for all the pressure i put on him. there is only so much someone can deal with. i get sad whenever i think about all the damage i caused him.

anyway, i started thinking about getting it together. i was like you know what? fuck mental illness i can do whatever i set my mind to. i started planning on doing some shit. so far, i'm doing good. i'm not getting better, and kind of worse everyday, but not worse than what i was before, you know?

how do i explain this?

i started aiming for the stars. and then i was like, but getting to the moon would be great. and then, well it's good enough that i bought some tape so i can build a rocket. and now i'm using the tape to put some cute posters on my wall. what even is this metaphor?

i don't wanna kill myself right now. i wanted to be a great human being, but i'd be ok with just being someone i don't hate. i do think that soon the awful thoughts will come back, and that scares me shitless (i have started crying lately. not as often, but like every other day, and whenever i start crying i'm like oh no! it's happening again! but it passes). but for now i'm okay, just being a normal human being. i think.

as normal as i can be, which gets into: new hobby.

i bought my niece a doll, an off-brand barbie. but my cute little niece is not interested in it at all, which is fine. she likes spiderman, not dolls [btw, my sister bought her a spiderman costume and it's the cutest thing ever! it's like spiderman shrinked and it's now travel size]. but i was so excited when i bought it, like, it made ME really happy to buy a doll, and i wanted to play with it and touch it as soon as i gave it to her. so, i wanted a doll.

i resisted the idea at first. c'mon, you're an adult. you're twenty one. then sunday came and oh man. i stayed the whole day in and in the afternoon i started seeing pictures of my siblings, people who i used to call friends, everyone was out having fun. and i was just so alone. i've always been.

so i was like, fuck it. i went out and bought myself two fucking dolls. cause who cares. i always played alone in my room, and my siblings didn't want to play with me because they were older, and it's just that feeling over and over again. everyone is growing up without me, life keeps going on and they don't care that they left me behind. so if it's going to be me and my dolls, then i guess i better buy myself some dolls.

i've been sewing clothes for them. and i'm having so much fun with it. and i told my boyfriend and him being the cutest human ever ordered me an original barbie (they are so expensive here).

i've been giving them names. we have alexa, june, margo and gigi. and soon will arrive erin (i'm so excited for her!!!!)

and that's it so far. anyway, back to life

[hernymills]

ftr im feeling a little better after talking to the pharmacist, who seemed patient with me and explained like don't keep taking all 30 of them if it doesn't still hurt like take it for the least amount of time possible, I can take Tylenol (which is the same thing as acetaminophen) with it but don't take ibuprofen or naproxen etc I had a lot of questions and she even asked if I had any more. Shout-out to the hero working at that Dillons pharmacy fr

What's the normal amount of time to wait between a root canal and a crown? Mine is May 19, I got them to schedule it beforehand when I pre-paid for the root canal bc I had the evaluation and x-rays in fucking January and am just now having the first appointment to address stuff fml

Am I supposed to brush that tooth in the meantime? I didn't have the presence of mind to ask before I left

That's the thing still bugging me I guess. I was a "perfect patient" to YOU. like don't get me wrong I would have been emotionally devastated if the dentist said I hadn't gotten an A in patient (which is normal to want and possible to achieve) but like... the way my neurodivergence manifests makes me less of a problem to others and more of a problem to myself I guess?

Like I asked about written instructions beforehand bc I kinda knew I was gonna be brain-busted afterwards and not in prime condition to be asking questions (which, is maybe harder for me even on a good day bc I trip over wording and whether my question is normal and whether I'm asking too many and I'm focused on whether retaining the information well enough at the same time that I'm trying to retain the information) and aaaa idk like at the beginning he said I'm in control and to let him know if I had any pain and then like I have a maybe different perception of pain so I don't really bring it up until it's Pain but I try to communicate before it's unbearable like it takes practice and is something I'm working on and I was trying to communicate sometimes like answer questions w YES or NO in ASL and he didn't seem to get it but I didn't want to move my head with tools in it so I tried to go more like thumbs up vs moving my fist as if it were a head shaking no bc idk I didn't have a good angle for thumbs down and at another point I was trying to tell him that the pain was growing (like the anaesthesia starting to wear off) by starting w smth that had been understood before, index and thumb held close together for "a little" and then for "growing" I like widened the gap between the fingers and he sort of got it but sort of didn't? I think he thought I was getting tired? idk he asked at the end of I know ASL and I said "some... mostly fingerspelling..." and idk I think he said that he didn't understand some of what I'd been trying to indicate but like he had a lighthearted tone abt it that irks me I dunno. like I was trying to keep up my end of the communication here, I had headphones on to help w some of the sounds but didn't turn up the audio far enough to actually drown out the drills and stuff in case he said something, bc usually when he did it was like... w no warning that he was about to say something so I'm turning it down fast and straining my audio processing disorder to figure out the question/command

Idk! Part of me thinks I'm taking this too seriously and part of me thinks I'm not taking this seriously enough. Should I say at these appointments that I'm autistic, and not only mention the ADHD that comes up anyway bc of the meds? Is it like a masking thing, that I don't seem like someone who actually needs that accommodation I asked for or smth? It's so frustrating, I have no idea whether this all is totally nbd to neurotypicals and they'd have no problems advocating for themselves in appointments or whether they'd need to or what. Would they just be totally chill about taking a med they haven't been on before, without the prescribing dentist saying anything about it? Would they have just talked past all the hardware in their mouth? Speaking up is hard for me without physical barriers damn!!

I asked for them to write down instructions, they didn't do that. Just verbally told me not to eat on that side (I don't have lower teeth on the other side)

Like should I have asked what prescription when they asked what pharmacy instead of assuming it'd be something I'm familiar w? Am I supposed to know what to do w once-daily celecoxib 30 of them? Am I supposed to just take them every day until the crown appointment? Well, 1 week short of that appointment.

They said ibuprofen I could have w it right? My brain was already busted at that point bc of the stress of the root canal I don't remember w confidence

Fuck I forgot to ask whether I should brush there or like skip that tooth yknow

Fuck it already hurts and the numbing is wearing off fast

[doebt]

Ok. i slept 14 hrs. i woke up. ive been awake for 11 hrs. and im dead sleepy again. IS THIS NORMAL. is that NORMAL. is the ratio NORMAL. bc it doesnt feel normal

[kashimos-hajime]

homestretch of the hard times | g.t.

summary: the eve days of your potential death kinda spurns things to move forward: for takemura, it means confessions. for you, it means making exceptions. and drinks. ‘cause takemura’s the pickiest fucking eater you’ve ever met.

WARNINGS: small spoilers for act 1 of cyberpunk 2077 and references to non-spoiler texts between takemura and v, just fluff, small angst, swearing, idk what else is going on so if there are actual spoilers thats completely coincedental ndlnskfsldnf pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v word count: 2.6k

a/n: so cdpr did us dirty for not allowing us to romance him (to my knowledge) but he has my mind, heart and everything else so :) listened to the bones by maren morris w/ hozier

part of the tales of a two-bit thief series

It starts with something straight out of a romance movie: A car crash, saving each other’s lives (well, him more than you) and “Wait, V, I need you.”

You don’t know how you got here, to be precise. There were a chain of events, some absolutely stand up fucking moments on your part, and just… fuckery. So much fuckery and life went to shit.

All you know is the ticking time bomb’s only ticking louder and at this point, the only thing that can silence it at all is the man beside you. Not even the meds Misty gave you can help you now. 

You’re sitting in his car because you called him and he had answered and now… now they’re on one of the off ramps looking over Night City like they own the fucking place.

Maybe you did, once. Ha, maybe back when everything seemed more job to job and not life to life. For a moment, maybe you were in the big leagues.

Takemura doesn’t say anything, even though you can tell he wants to. His hair still pulled into that man bun, collared shirt with not a single wrinkle in sight. Weird how he never looks out of place, not really. Not even with the car crash. Shit, he always looked good.

You think you’re actually gonna miss that. That one semblance of someone being put together that gave you the hope that maybe you could stick it too.

You think you’re gonna miss a lot of things about him—from his stupid complaints about the food here, to his stupid random philosophy texts in the day, to the fact that he eats the ramen you buy anyway without complaint, even though it’ll never compare to what he has in Japan.

The thought that counts.

They don’t even have the radio on, just the dim lights of the car, a window rolled down. You don’t smoke but you feel like you should be tapping a cig either way. You haven’t had the time to just fucking breathe—not with Silverhand breathing down your neck, corpo rats swarming you on all sides. 

Everyone wants a piece of you, it feels like. 

You look at Takemura.

Almost everyone.

“Thank you,” you tell him quietly, with difficulty. It’s hard to get through your words without thinking Silverhand’s behind your back, mocking you. You’re so fucking tired. “It hasn’t been easy.”

He doesn’t respond. He’s too busy looking at one of the cars nearly collide with a pedestrian. You could’ve laughed. You used to make fun of the shitty drivers in Night City, knowing full well you’re one of them.

You get chased by a couple of cops, rules start to bend.

You used to wonder why you never left.

Then, you actually left, and you realized that hell, you can take the person out of Night City—can’t take the Night City out of a person.

Atlanta fucking sucked, but maybe you should’ve stayed there.

But then, a tiny voice whispers as you look out the window to the fresh night wind. You never would’ve met him.

It’s funny, you think. To come back and get a brain tumour in the shape of a rocker who can’t fucking touch anyone who loves him, who he loved, only for you to fall in love with a corpo you can’t fucking touch at all because… because there is no time left. It just isn’t fair.

“I used to be a corpo kid,” you confess, looking at him with a wry smile again. That catches his attention. He looks at you with those eyes that scrutinize you, interrogate you, peel you apart to your bare essentials and you have to look away before you can’t control your face anymore. God fucking damn it. “Not when it mattered, obviously, but… I remember what it was like. Grew up hating every single on of them.”

“Your parents were Arasaka?”

“Mhm. Security division.” It’s like your eyes are magnetic to his because when you blink, you find yourself regarding him again. Your fingers play at your lips. “Counterintelligence. I was supposed to go into that, too. Big dreams.” 

“I see.”

“Yeah, then my parents were tried for treason and murdered, so I got thrown out. That’s it.” Your hand falls away. You pick at the chipped nail polish on your thumb. “Never told anyone that. ‘Cept…” Jackie. Well, he’s fucking dead, now. “‘Cept you, now, I guess. Guess some corpos aren’t so bad.”

The corner of his mouth pinches up like he’s flattered and you can’t help the pleased warmth spreading through your chest. 

“Should I be honoured I am one of the few exceptions you have made?”

“Well, I don’t make exceptions often, so…” You grin slyly. He looks away just as you catch a flash of his smile growing. It’s a nice smile. You wish you saw it more often before the end of the road. Maybe it’s one of the regrets you have, too. “Yeah, maybe you should feel special.”

“Hm.”

“C’mon, Takemura. Humour the walking dead, yeah?” You stretch against the leather of his car seat with a pleased sound. “I’m spending what time I have left with who I want to. Can’t ask for much better than that.” A quiet hangs in the air as you melt against the black leather and you look at Takemura who’s staring at the wheel with an intensity you don’t often see. It makes your gut squirm. 

“And I? I am one of those people?”

You lean on one hip and look at him, bending a knee and resting an ankle on your thigh. He looks at you with an uncertainty—an uncertainty you’re sure echoes in your eyes.

It was business, then it wasn’t. Maybe it never was.

“Yeah. You’re one of the few on the short list.”

“Exceptions again.”

You laugh. “Yeah. You’re an exception to most things, I think. Weird, that.”

“How so?”

“Ah, I don’t know. I’ve had family—still do, ones that matter, you know. Just… no one ever like you, Takemura. Drives me crazy.”

“The feeling is mutual. Your mocking brings you onto thin ice, V.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel. The engine’s off so it seems more fidgety than anything. Weird. You never noticed he fidgeted before. Maybe he’s nervous?

About what?

“I must ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“If you have a future, what do you see for yourself?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. You frown and pick at your flecking nail polish even more, looking at your hand and focusing more on that so you don’t have to answer your question. His eyes burn into you and you swallow, trying not to act like you haven’t thought, in regret, at night, about a hundred million fucking times the possibilities they could’ve had together.

You’re not about to say all that.

Instead: “Settling down with the family. Mama Welles, people at the Coyote.” You blatantly don’t look at him when you add, “Others. This has been enough action for a lifetime.” You rest your hands on your lap and chance a glimpse at him. He’s looking away from you, out the window on his side, and you shift in your seat. “How about you? You must’ve… had dreams. Before all this shit went down. You make it out of here and then what?”

When he looks at you, your heart nearly cracks at the sadness in his eyes. He smiles, but there is no strength, and his eyes are darker than the night surrounding them.

“I would go to the countryside, just as I’ve always wanted. Leave this, all of this, behind. Rural Japan is beautiful, so a small town would suffice where everyone knows everyone. We do favours for one another. It is community. Nothing like here.” His lips pull into a tiny frown. “When I was a younger man, I wanted a daughter,” is all he says. “I believe I could have been a great father, so perhaps… perhaps one day.”

“A daughter? Not a son?” you ask curiously, and he almost chuckles. You can’t help the faint smile on your face. 

“If my daughter grew up anything like her mother,” he explains with a slight glance towards you, “I would have more hope than a son who was like me.”

You frown.  “You’re not a bad man, Takemura. Any son like you—with your code of honour, your shitty selfie skills—no one’s gotta a chance.”

He merely scoffs in response. Again, with the you mocking him. It’s a wonder he lets you.

“But really, that sounds… nice. A daughter, a wife.” You drum your fingers against your knee and his eyes dart to yours, click like they were always destined to meet, and your lips part. Words stall on your tongue and you want to speak but in the dim lights, you are lost in the darkness of his eyes. Something comes, something goes, and you barely croak out, “Whoever marries you will have to deal with so much of your shit that the kids have to turn out alright. The complaining, for one. Picky eater for another.”

This time, he does chuckle and you swallow a breath at the sound. “Dealing with it comes with practice, V.”

“Is that so?”

“Shouldn’t you know?”

“I—“ For once, no funny retort, no witty quip shoots out of your mouth, and you realize that there is an implication—an intricate dance where they’re struggling not to step on each other’s toes and nearly failing at every turn, yet somehow, it works because they’re dancing, and it’s quiet, and it’s… it’s peaceful.

Shit, you’re getting a load of this. When’d you become a poet?

“I guess I should know,” you finally say. “Never understood why I got so giddy whenever I saw your texts, you know, seein’ your name flash on my phone.” You laugh bitterly. “Guess I know why, now.” He’s silent and you don’t look at him. You look at the dashboard where you’ve kicked your feet up a dozen times, the glove compartment that still has your sunglasses inside.

Shit.

“Thank you for everything. Shit’s a little… more bearable, I guess. When you’re around, that is.” The words come out stilted, awkward, but your heart is so heavy in your throat you feel like you’re going to choke. You look into your lap, your whole body incinerating under what you’re sure is the most judgemental glare of your life and you just hope to fucking God this man says something, does something.

Holy shit. You’re going to die of embarrassment. Didn’t even think that was possible.

Then, a loud sigh. A sigh you’ve heard often enough beside you right before a gunfight or when he has to eat the food you ordered for him or even the nights when they’re exhausted, bruised, and just plain tired right before going to sleep where they lay on the floor.

It’s exasperated, a how on earth did we get here, a very annoyed again, you’re so fucking stupid, and you’re still running through your list on what this particular sigh can mean before a hand gently takes hold of yours. Your eyes dart to his, blinking and he stares at you like you’ve just stabbed him. Your heart is fucking racing in your chest, pounding like thunder. His fingers fold over and you realize, as you interlace fingers, that his skin is burning at your touch. 

Or maybe, it’s the other way around.

They sit there in silence, not looking at one another, looking out windows, parts of the car, everything but each other, and when he squeezes your hand, you close your eyes and swallow your heart.

It’s over.

“V,” he murmurs, voice so deathly quiet and raspy in your ears that your gut clenches. You turn to watch him. “Tell me that you will not stop fighting.” You swallow your breath as his eyes flicker from your own to your parted lips. He inhales quietly and you swear you can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his fingers in your grip. “That this is not all for nothing.”

“It isn’t.“

“Then I was right.” His eyes flutter back to your gaze and he tilts his head. Wisps of fine hair escaping his manbun brush over his nose and you reach up on your own accord, swiping it behind your ear. You lean over the console, your elbow digging into the leather and, tentatively, you trail your fingers down his jaw, hold his face in your hand. “I am… what is that phrase you use so often?”

“SNAFU?”

“No.”

“Assblasted.”

“No.”

“Royally fucked?”

“We need to expand your vocabulary.” You smile nefariously as his other hand reaches for your chin. He pinches it lightly, thumb stretching up to brush over your lips and your face freezes at his touch. “But yes. Royally fucked. I wasn’t wrong when I said I needed you.”

“I think that meant a whole something else back then,” you whisper rawly and he smiles sombrely. His thumb leaves your mouth to brush your cheek, his eyes fixing on you as if he’s trying to memorize aspects of your face: the arch of your nose, the bow of your smile, the way your brow wrinkles. “Meant more business-like.”

“I did. And now, I believe the terms have changed.” He arches an eyebrow. “Are we at a mutual understanding, V?”

“Yes.” And I hate that we are. Your hand along his jaw lifts to wrap around his wrist. “Consider that feeling mutual, yeah? It goes both ways.”

“I will.” Another small smile graces his lips. It makes him look younger every time and you rub your thumb over the back of his hand. 

“Do you wanna grab something to eat before you drive me back home for some shuteye?”

“The choices here are atrocious, V.”

“Then, drinks,” you propose, letting go of his wrist. He lets go of your chin, and turning to face the front, you kick up your feet on his dash. He stares at you for a moment then sighs because there really isn’t anything he can do about it. Nor, do you think, he wants to. You squeeze his hand and send him a silly smile. “How about drinks? I wasn’t hungry anyway.”

“Are you paying?”

You eye him incredulously. “Who do you take me for? You?”

He snorts and the engine roars to life with a flick of his wrist. He grabs the wheel dominantly and you swallow at the way his fingers wrap around the handle. “The Afterlife, then?”

“Or, we could make it rustic.” You pull his hand into your lap playfully and run a thumb over his knuckles. His eyes flit over and you send him a smirk. “I know Mama Welles doesn’t like you, but the Coyote’s serving cheap. Happen to like me there.” He begins to pull out of their little overhang and he nudges their joined hands into your abdomen, silently telling you to buckle in. Rolling your eyes, you mumble out a ‘boomer’ underneath your breath before letting go of him and following orders.

He settles a hand on your thigh and squeezes. You hang an arm out the window. 

The wind’s running through the car, he has the radio on low, and they’re easing through onto the highway.

Your chest is lighter than a feather, mind’s quieter than a ghost.

You’ve seen scarier deaths, dealt a lot more. You know that silence is a bigger killer than most bullets.

But here you are now…

“I’m changing this,” Takemura says. “This music is terrible.”

…Shit, maybe life isn’t so bad, ending the way it is.

[funnyexel]

Potential Yandere x Abused Fem!Reader

A/n: This is another drabble. I’ve been trying to pass it as a x reader story but I got severely stumped so I decided to still post it. (cause I feel like I did a fantastic job on it) If you squint, you could count this as yandere.

Summary: Basically, the story is about you running away from your twisted household (controlled by your step-mother) to get away from her, as you were escaping you get kidnapped. You soon find out it was your “dead” husband, your step-mother arranged you to marry for money and soon after killed him because he was trying to help your situation. Now he is bent on protecting you and getting “even” with your step-mom...any means necessary.

Warnings: Scars, Mentions of death, Mentions of abuse, Trauma, Slight smut, Mushy stuff. Masterlist Mega List

You ran away. You just couldn't take it anymore. The loneliness and the abuse was killing you from the inside out. Tears burn in your eyes and stain your cheeks. Now caught up in yourself, you neglect to realize the hand over your mouth. "Finally." You managed to let out a few muffled screams before you completely knocked out.

"No one will want a fat, stuck up brat! 20 more!" "Yes, Mother."

Transitioning from low breaths, you awake breathing heavily. "GET OUT!" You flinch at the sudden noise and clashing of objects. The somewhat familiar male voice sighs. You try to shift the bag off your head but fail. "oh right the bag." He snatches the bag off your head. Your head whips to the side, tears smoothly fall down your face. He forces your face to see his. "p-please-" The tears in your eyes wash away and you can see a clear picture of the male. He caresses your cheek. "Y/n~ It's been a while." He holds the back of his neck.

Slowly jerking your head back. You try and gather your emotions. 'Do I want to hit him or kiss him?' You thought. "I missed you." You keep your gaze with him. Blood rushes to your face without your consent. "I guess you didn't miss me.." He falsely pouts. "I did." You whisper. He smiles. "Get off the floor." You get up and realize that you had your hands behind your back for nothing. Looking him up and down, you analyze his tall and muscular nature. Wanting to run up to him and kiss him. You decide to hold back. The thought of him suffering from the lost of touch is funny to you.

Just like how you both were when you were younger. You finally ignore your thoughts and listen to your aching body. Legs trembling, you trip over your weak feet before you could faceplant, he catches you. 'Oh right. Prince Charming waited 3 long years to get me.' Now remembering the horrible memories. He lays you down on a couch and removes your clothes to unveil your undergarments. He uses a med-kit to patch you up. "Your scars have gotten worse." He looks up to you slightly. You look away from him. "Stop staring at me like that."

He chuckles at your annoyance. "Are you hungry?" He briefly stops bandaging you to give you a tray of food. "Eat. If you're hungry tell me. Don't sit here starving yourself." You eat little by little enjoying the food. He moves from your legs to your arms. "What happened to your ring?" He examines your left hand kissing it softly. "I still have it." You reach into the side of your bra and take out the ring dangling on a chain. "Who gave you that chain?" He finished patching you up. Given your silence, he knows where it's from. 

He reaches for your hand to retrieve the chain and take the ring. "I do not want you to have anyone else's stuff but mine." He puts the chain on the table. "You're unusually quiet." You turn away. "W-where have you been for three years?" You glide your hand over his tattoos and bold muscles. He gently takes your left hand and holds it in his, to place the ring on your ring finger. "Trying to get you." He kisses the ring and clutches onto your hand. "I-I thought...y-you w-were...I s-saw."

Tears stream down your face unexpectedly with the whirlpool of emotions. "Dead." You couldn't hold yourself back from his touch anymore. You launched yourself into his arms and fit into his lap perfectly. He softly whispered reassuring little nothings in your ear. His voice soothes your uneasy state. "You'll be safe with me. I promise to you that you will never go back, ever." You clench onto him harder, making small marks into his skin through his clothes.

"I-I need- have um-" You stutter causing your cheeks to heat up. He rubs your shoulder as a comforting gesture. "I...I've realized, over the time apart and grieving. That I-" You choke on your unspoken words but manifest the strength to hold his cheek and gaze deep into his eyes. "I love you. I thought that I realized too late and looking at this second chance. I was second guessing whether to tell you or not. But I wanted you to know." Slowly leaning in, a half a breath from his lips.

You close the gap, placing your soft lips on his and sluggishly parting your lips. 'His eyes are closed.' You thought studying his facial features. Whilst tracing your slender fingers over his godly jaw line. He got casted out of your trance, pulling your waist into his. Thirstily matching his lips up with yours. You felt déjà vu and a stinging sensation on your thigh. But it wasn't painful, it could never be painful from him. It was a stinging of coldness turning warm from your touch.

Your bottom lip felt wet. Very wet. He was asking for permission to your wonderful mouth. You opened your mouth for him without a second thought. Feeling his heavy palm trailing from your waist smoothly to your neck. Gripping hard but soft never wanting to let go. Your body shifted to straddling him and your hand stopped awkwardly waving in the air and rubbed along the hand holding your thigh. Applying warmth to his upper arm and bicep. You moan breaking the kiss, throwing your head back due to his icy touch up your back. You stare at each other, breathing heavily. "I love you too." He says between deep inhales and exhales. "You're always so warm." He buries his head in your shoulder, both his hands covering your back. "And you’re always so cold." You chuckle and shiver under his touch. Rapidly blushing, realizing you're only in your panties and bra.

You wiggle in his lap trying to reach a piece of clothing. But he holds you down with his heavenly grip. He lifts his head from your shoulder, blush lightly dusting his face. "Are you trying to get something out of me?" His muscular voice echoes in and out your ear. You hesitantly shake your head. Thinking about what he said you notice your sitting near his groin. He moves his hands around your back attempting to capture all your warmth. "Shirt." You gaze into his night black eyes.

A sweater is draped on your back with little to no movement. He sits up and puts your arms through the sleeves, then zipping up the sweater. Shivering at the new warmth, he places a kiss on your nose then mouth. You smile and touch your nose. He lifts you off his lap and onto the couch. "Stay in here. I'll be back." He gets up and looks over himself in the mirror. Seeing you staring at him from the couch with a slight pout. "Don't let anyone see those pretty panties."

Never taking your eyes off him, your cheeks redden and you push down the sweater to cover your underwear. He snickers at your actions, swiftly leaving the room. Your eye falls back to the mirror. 'This is really happening.' You thought. One song was replaying in your head, sex by eden but only one particular part of the song. 'Oh no, I think I'm catching feelings.' And you know you already told him you love him but it felt like you were catching feelings all over again. The statement from the man became distant as time passes by, or you became very bored very fast. Either way you got up from the couch, wobbling on your feet. You stare at yourself through the mirror. Dark circles having a long term stay underneath your eyes, big lips being temporarily present on your face, light hickeys being displayed on your lower chin and neck, and light tears burned into your cheeks. You rub away the tear marks with the oversized sleeve.

His sweater was sizeable to your body. It hugged your body perfectly but all the while drowning you in the sweater. Doing some more walking around. You come across a nicely framed photo of you and him. You remembered that like it was taken yesterday, if you recall correctly his sister took that picture. You were sitting in his lap, assembling a puzzle together but he was getting frustrated so you decided to take over. You laugh at the bubbly memory.

'I look so focus on the puzzle meanwhile he buried his face in my hair.' You slightly blush and put the picture back. You go to his desk and sit in his chair. "woaah~ this chair is so comfortable." You lie back into the chair and spin it, making sure not to mess up anything on his desk. "how long is he going to take?" You groan feeling extremely lonely. Listening closely, you hear the sound of a train, the speedy move of the train smoothly moving on the noisy tracks. As if they hit a bump on the track your body falls out the chair.

You turn over rubbing your knees. Multiple footsteps meet your ear range. Looking around, you quickly crawl underneath the desk slightly hitting your head on the way in. "ouch." And a squeal leaves your mouth before they busted in the room. "If this is just your bad hearing, we're gonna be in a lot of trouble." A strong woman voice exclaims. "I heard something fall. I swear." A male croaked back to the female. "Everything in here is bolted to the floor. Get out his office before he catches you." Someone chimes in and the footsteps fade out the room.

You left out a shaky breath and rub your head. 'I'll just stay under here.' You thought to yourself and nodded. In silence, you thought about what you would do about your still existing problems at your old home. Even though, you wanted to forget. You couldn't risk him getting hurt or worse. "Hey, where are you?" His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You knock on the inside of the desk and his footsteps approach you. He crouches down and looks at you curled up into a ball under the desk.

"what are you doing under here?" His soft tone flutters your heart and blesses you ears. As he extends his hand you eagerly take it and he pulls you out the dark space. He guides you to the couch and sits you down. "Here." He hands you black leggings. Getting up, you put on the pants and look up to him. "Promise." His hands meet your waist and lightly rubbed the sides. "Promise, what?" He chuckles looking down to you. "Promise you won't get killed."

You stare at him with solid eyes and spoke with a serious tone. "I promise to you I won't get killed." He matches your tone. "Pinky promise." You hold out a pinky and wait for him to meet your request. He smirks and holds your pinky with his. Shaking it twice. You let go and hug him, burying your face into his mid-chest. His well built arms circle around you, engulfing you in his body. You stay there until you begin to lose breath. "Accept my promise."

He smiles at you, before you could have a valid reaction, he traps you into a powerful kiss. Pulling your body closer and closer to his. All the while your hands travel to his neck, into his soft dark hair. The kiss was better than before, unrealistic at most. His tongue immediately got access to your mouth, exploring it and violating it. He slowly broke the kiss to trail them down to your neck. You huffed and moaned. Minimally visible air puffs leaving your mouth. He found your sweet spot and kissed it as deeply as he kissed your plump lips. Your lowly moans echoed the office, he gripped your chin and moved it to the side to get more access to your neck. His actions hit a sudden stop, he lifts up his head and plants a peck on your lips. He made you weak in the knees. And by the looks of it you made him the same way. He sat on the couch and patted his leg. You felt like sitting too but held off, to look in the mirror. 

A dark mark visible to the naked eye, was made by him on your neck. You traced your fingers over it in admiration. Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes sparkled. His marks did that special thing to you that you couldn't explain even if you tried. Turning back to him you, sit on his lap and rest your head on his shoulder.

[fairycosmos]

anxiety and intrusive thoughts piss me off so much sometimes like just when i'm done being terrified of one thing something else triggers me and the cycle repeats again like i guess that's the reality of how anxiety works but it's still so frustrating u know?

omg yeahhh i totally hear you god i can't express how much i GET what you mean. i think the cycles of mental illness are what really wears your mind down, above all the other shit that comes with being sick. it's really hard to live with, it's exhausting. it's tedious, even. you know what your brain is doing and yet you still can't stop it, and it's like you go mad trying to fight it. even on meds and with therapy and time and healing, you can get caught in the same old loops. it's a lot. when i was like 12, and my hypochondria was in one of its really bad phases, i was crying in my doctors office and he said the same thing. he was like: even if i tell you you're physically healthy, you're going to find something else to worry about and end up right back here again because that's the nature of mental illness, anxiety especially. now, it's the same with my intrusive thoughts, same patterns, same neurotic-ness. what he said really stuck with me because i kinda realized in that moment that i am never going to rid myself of this feeling entirely. that i will always be scared, searching for problems, hyper alert, out of control in my own head. and the goal is to manage and function, not to cure it at this point. that's just for me, though, and obviously experiences vary.

anyway, i'm sorry you're going through something similar and i'm sorry you know what it's like. i seriously would not wish it on anyone, and i understand that it often leaves you feeling completely disheartened and hopeless. takes up so much of your life, too. i think it's totally normal to feel that way when you've been put through the ringer so many times w the same old shit and the same old illness and all it ever does is permeate, it's the fucking worst. i do think having this level of self awareness about your repetitive thinking cycles and habits is a good sign and a tool you could learn to use to lessen the anxiety in its most heightened moments, BUT i also get that that is way easier said than done. i hear you and ur not alone in dealing with this at all. <3 i really hope you are able to find both the professional and personal support you need/deserve, and consistent moments of peace, with time. even if that's a whole process in and of itself. take care of yourself and try to approach it with a one-day-at-a-time mindset. you're doing a lot better than you realize just by coping and being self aware enough to send something like this. sending a huge hug over ur way rn x

[sapphic-sex-ed]

Im on continuous/extended use/whatever the correct term for skipping over the placebo pills birth control and like, Im sure the doctors would tell me if it's harmful/wouldn't prescribe it if they thought it would be bad but I feel bad sometimes for doing it cause I don't have much of a physical/medical reason to do it like endometriosis. It's more for emotional regulation--I already have trouble w/regulation even not on my period-- and to help reduce some dysphoria but like yeah. Idk where this was going I guess I just needed a vent.

There's nothing wrong with doing what you're doing. The only reason the placebo pills exist was that when the pill was developed in the 60's, women said they got anxious when they didn't have their periods as they wouldn't know if they were pregnant, so they added the placebos to ease that anxiety.

And easing emotional dysregulation and dysphoria are valid uses of a medication. Just how malaria meds can treat lupus in some instances, medicines doesn't have to necissarily be made for a specific thing, but can still treat it.

-mod liz