#its just...ive never had surgery before

[riddle-me-ri]

Whelp, I've sealed my fate. I've officially paid for my oral surgery (paid for professionals to give me pain 🙃 with a smile on their face)

I'll be having three wisdom teeth removed and a baby tooth that never fell out and is just chilling below it in my gum...so yeah...if I'm a wee out of it in July this is the big reason why

[s0fter-sin]

i need ghoap frantically making out against a door finally taking the leap on their feelings. need ghost grinding against soap, expecting to find him just as hard as him, only to feel nothing

and in all his wisdom and experience, he concludes soap was tortured and never told him

he’s trying to think of a delicate way to say he understands, that he’s been through it and it doesn’t change anything about how he feels (and who the fuck touched him so he can hunt them down and rend them limb from limb)

meanwhile trans!soap’s just trying to find the best angle to grind his cunt on ghost’s thigh

just it never even entering ghost’s head bc he’s never known a trans person but he has met plenty of people who’ve been tortured - himself included - so of course that’s his logical leap

soap takes off his shirt and he sees his top surgery scars and ghost asks if he wants him to kill the one who did it and soap just hums like, “actually, man did pretty good, they healed real well,” and ghost’s just teary-eyes with awe at how well he’s coping, “looking on the bright side, that’s my johnny.”

imagine he thinks johnny was fully castrated but sees he’s determined to still have a sex life with him so he buys packers and straps to help him bc hell yeah healing and soap’s just like, “holy shit i’ve never had such a thoughtful partner before, such a sweet man, lt.”

[ink-asunder]

Having demand avoidance in a medical setting is literally hell. Like, patient autonomy is already absolute ass. It's only made worse when doctors CONSISTENTLY tell you what to do and act like you HAVE to do it instead of consulting with you first like normal fucking people.

[theygender]

I've been trying to figure out and justify why I've been experiencing so much fatigue lately. At first I thought I may have developed anemia from my endometriosis making me bleed for 8 weeks straight but my blood tests came back fine. Maybe I'm just exhausted bc I had to work that entire time while actively sick? But I had quite a few days off to rest this month and I haven't been as sick recently, so what gives? Turns out I didn't need to look for an outside source. Apparently fatigue is one of THE most common symptoms of endo and it's just not mentioned often bc most doctors underestimate the impact fatigue can have on people's lives 🙃 The call is coming from inside the fucking house

[databent]

sometimes you just haveto laugh a little bit.not much else you can do

[sprinklethetangerine]

I'm gonna make..

Doughnuts

And I...

Kinda don't fucking want to

(Pretend there are sparkles there)

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

AHHHH CONGRATS ON 5k!!! Ok ok, hear me out on this request because I think it might make a good little fic. I can’t decide between Hesh or Price for this one but I got a general idea: stoned Hesh or Price. You know those videos of husbands waking up from surgery and not recognizing their wife right away but knowing they’re the most beautiful person in the world (something like this: https://youtu.be/kV8KyeApBJY). Well maybe it’s something like he got hurt from a mission (hurt enough to require drugs/anesthesia for the plot) but is recovering back at base and imagine their wife is their medic and she’s trying to update his team on how he’s recovering and you just got a stoned Hesh or Price completely hopped up on drugs following his injury, just fawning over her and he just goes bananas when she “reveals” they’re married. The team got a kick out of it

—Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞

You walked around the room, tidying up what you could if only for the simple fact that it could distract you from the unconscious body in the bed. Realistically as a medic, you knew he would be fine—he was in the best hands possible—but Hesh had a track record for being unpredictable. 

He’d gotten into some trouble out in No Man’s Land again. Broken arm and ribs; a bullet through his thigh. He was so pumped full of medication and anesthetics from surgery that you doubted that he would be waking up soon.

But then again, Hesh was always surprising you. It was one of the reasons you’d married him, after all. Never a dull day.

Elias’s voice calls from the doorway. 

“You’re going to fall over at this rate,” you blink quickly, turning with an extra blanket in hand to spread around your husband’s comatose state. 

Your father-in-law has his arms crossed, and Logan slinks his way through the doorway with an arm looping your shoulders, a head pushed into your scalp silently. You sigh deeply, tension that you hadn’t realized was on your face lessening.

“Only if he keeps me from seeing those greens of his.” 

Logan huffs a laugh, squeezing you as his father grunts—the stern man’s eyes softening in a way they only would for you and his boys.

“He’d be more worried about you than himself if you did. Put my mind at ease, okay?” Your eyes roll but you nod with a small smile. You don’t argue with his point in the slightest. 

So, that was how you ended up here, in a seat by Hesh’s hospital bed—your hand in his and your head nodding back and forth with fatigue. Elias and Logan are casually playing a game of chess from across the room when David’s eyes flutter; his mouth releasing a low groan.

Your lids snap back, spine straightening, but before you can get a word out, your husband is pulling his hand from yours. His green eyes are loopy, pupils blown wide. 

He mutters something under his breath, lips grimacing and face pulling in at the sight of you. 

“Hesh?” The two men stand as you check his vitals, heart hammering until there’s nothing out of the ordinary and you can sit back down with a sigh and a relieved smile. “Take it easy, alright? You got out of surgery a little while ago—everyone’s here for you—”

“W…Where’s my wife?” His words slur, jaw loose as he rotates it; the unbroken arm with an IV chord stuck in it raises as jerky digits rub at his eyes. You’re left at a loss, blinking slowly in confusion before sharing looks with your in-laws. “No offense, Miss, you’re pretty and all, but…shit, why’s everything spinning?”

A hand covers your mouth, heated embarrassment lighting inside of your veins. 

“Hesh, Sweetheart,” your arm reaches to the brunette, trying to grab his wrist that he weakly moves away. 

“Stay away from me,” he grunts, head limply lulling on its pillow. “Thought I told you to keep it to yourself. My Wife’ll rip,” Hesh’s voice fizzles, a loud yawn peeling his bandaged face back, “you to pieces.” A pause. You hear Logan trying to hide his loud laughter behind his lips. “Did…the doctor send you?”

Your body turns to Elias, face beaming and expression exasperated. 

“Now that he’s awake will you get the other three? It’ll be easier to give the news to all of you at once.”

“Already commed ‘em,” the man states, watching his eldest with a raised brow and a slow smirk. “Least we know he’s a loose cannon on anesthesia.” 

Merrick, Keegan, and Ajax all file in, and as you continue to watch over a loopy Hesh, his small noises and babbling continue even when you give the breakdown of the patient sheet. You stand just shy of brushing the bed’s lower frame. You won’t lie and say it isn’t hilarious.

“He needs to keep out of the field for at least two and a half months, boys, and I’m not joking about that, alright?”

Your husband’s slow voice slashes through your speech, and the rest of the Ghosts snicker, sharing knowing looks as Hesh tries to lift the hand currently wrapped to his chest to keep it still. “You’re a real beautiful lady, Doll, y’know that? I’m sorry you like me so much, but I love my wife, you hear? Please don’t be angry with me.”

“Hesh, Darling,” you walk closer and bend down carefully. He blinked owlishly at you, finger coming up to poke at your cheek. Your hand grabs his as you hear Ajax make a quick remark to Keegan about the man being ‘totally whipped even when he’s high.’ 

“David, hey,” your voice prompts him to smile, perhaps now only realizing the familiarity of it. “I’m going to tell you something, hm?”

“Okay,” he watches, petting your neck with his thumb. 

“I am your wife.” The man’s eyes widen comedically as everyone shares a long laugh with one another. 

“No way,” Hesh breathes after a moment, awe-stricken. “Really?”

“Really.” There’s a moment of silence, and then the heart monitor begins to pick up its pace to a fast pound. Your face goes hot with love, and you bend your head forward in a long and honest laugh into his shoulder. 

Green eyes shift to the men, and Hesh beams, cheeks red and heart racing as he slurs out, “This is my wife?!”

It was safe to say they were never going to let him forget about this.

[wiltkingart]

as another fruity tguy i really REALLY love the way u draw men so so much i see your work and i feel warm from head to toe cause you make trans men so beautiful. i can feel in every work that you love transmascs and being a tmasc and it comes thru in every paintstroke to me.

sorry to hijack with a big paragraph but last anon rly spoke to me and i wanted to share my experience if its ok

to last anon-- my journey is perhaps different from others but for me when i started T i also felt like it was the most important, life or death thing, but after spending time on T i found that even if the results werent as Manly as i was hoping for originally, i suddenly found myself in love with the simple fact that i had changed and my body had changed in a way that was on MY terms, even if it wasnt """perfectly passing"". since then ive found that not having T or having to lower my dosage was no longer painful or frightening.. im not sure how else to explain it other than At First, it felt like the testosterone was trying to fight Against the woman that Was my body, to sort of Transform it completely into this Man, but one day i just suddenly realized "oh. im not fighting anymore. and im actually pretty happy" and even tho i wasnt Perfectly masc by a long shot there was suddenly.. peace. i fell in love with my patchy body hair and my funny voice and my weird dick and then to my own suprise i found myself falling in love with the things i used to hate and wanted to get rid of. i suddenly loved my boobs (i wanted top surgery for YEARS before t) i loved my eyelashes, i loved the way my body looked in womens clothes, and i still loved being a man. im still a man and happier with that than ive ever been, but im more feminine now than i really ever have been! and its because suddenly being a man and having this mans body was something that belonged to ME, not to anyone else. this happiness and this body were on MY terms!!! so anon, i hope that you can try hormones and you get to explore the changes that bring you joy and that you find even more joy in the things you never expected before. but if you dont get hrt? youre still one of us always. i hope you will still find the love in your heart for yourself and the man you are regardless. peace and love and trangenderism ❤️

just want to add on that i relate heavily to your part about "falling in love with the things i used to hate and wanted to get rid of" because my chest was one of my biggest source of grief pre-T and could not imagine a life for myself without top surgery, and even injured myself from binding too much. but something about being on hrt and finally seeing and experiencing myself with more masc features (and living my life as a guy, in my own way) gradually flipped a switch in my brain and i started to love my boobs. and then when i stopped T i was worried and scared i would lose that love, but now i actually love them more than ever (if my art wasnt indication enough hehe). there's so many ways to be trans, and be a man, and i'm so grateful i gave myself the patience and space to explore that, and that i can continue to explore and experience joy with it. peace and love and transgenderism forever 💙

[mca-attack21]

Nothing Like Greys Anatomy (Jeremiah x Conklin Reader)

TW: Hospitals, surgery

You hated being sick. That’s probably why you chose to ignore the loss of appetite, vomiting, and fever. The stomach pain was a little more severe than normal, but you had just started working out with Jeremiah, so you figured it was a combination of sore muscles and vomiting. You decided to pop a few ibuprofens and spend the day in bed with a book. It wasn’t long before Jeremiah knocked gently on your door. “Love, are you awake?”

“Yes Jere, you can come in.”

“Why is it that my beautiful girlfriend is hiding away from the world?” he asked, being dramatic. 

“I’m not feeling the best.”

“Awe, babe,” he frowned. He took in your appearance, you looked flushed. “What’s wrong? Just feeling sicky?” he asked, placing a hand on your forehead, “You definitely feel warm.”

“My stomach hurts, I’m nauseous, I kept throwing up last night, and I’m pretty sure I have a fever cause I keep getting chills.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up? I could’ve taken care of you,” he asked with pouty eyes. 

“Because I’m fine Jere, I took medicine about an hour ago, I’m just waiting for it to kick in.”

“Can I get you anything? Do you want to spend the day cuddling and watching movies?”

“That sounds nice, Jere.”

You went to stand up but the dull ache on the right side of your stomach suddenly felt like it exploded. Your vision was taken over with a blinding whiteness, you cried out in pain. You would have fallen to the floor if Jeremiah wasn’t there to catch you. 

“Y/n? Talk to me. What’s wrong? What happened?” He asked frantically, but you were too busy crying out in pain to respond. He shifted his weight and hoisted you into his arms bridal style. Quickly carrying you downstairs, he was met by his mom who came hurrying round the corner. 

“What happened? Is she okay?”

“I don’t know, she said she wasn’t feeling well and then when she went to stand up she almost fell over.”

“Get her in the car. I’ll call her mom.”

He carried you outside and got you situated in the backseat with your head on his lap.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you, everything is going to be okay,” he promised repeatedly.

After a few minutes the pain seemed to subside. Your breathing returned to normal.

“You okay princess?” Jeremiah asked. 

“It hurts Jere.”

“What hurts?” 

You held your right abdomen, “Here.”

“Sounds like appendicitis” Susannah chimed in. 

You groaned. 

When you got to the hospital Jeremiah ran in and grabbed you a wheelchair. When they were checking your vitals they were concerned that your heart rate was elevated and that you had a 102.4 fever. This apparently was on the edge to where they could not tell whether you appendix had burst or not. They took you straight back to a room. The Doctor came in and examined you, explaining that you definitely had appendicitis. They needed to get a CT to determine if it could be treated with antibiotics, if it needed to be surgically removed, or if it had ruptured. To say you were scared was an understatement. You’d never liked hospitals and being the patient was 10 times worse. 

Jeremiah was by your side the whole time. He helped you change into your gown. He held your hand as a nurse put in an IV. He even convinced the nurse to let him go down to CT with you. They made him stand in the protected room and watch while they got you all situated. He could see that you were freaking out, so he took a chance and flipped on the mic. 

“Y/n you’re doing great. Just close your eyes and pretend you are floating in the pool. The space donut is going to take its pictures and I’ll be here the whole time. I promise.”

You calmed down and the radiologist thanked his and got started.

A few minutes later, you were headed back to your room. Everyone was crammed in there. Jeremiah had to sit on the end of the bed, careful to avoid your wires. 

“Wow, full house in here,” the Doctor said as he walked back in, “Unfortunately, it does look like we are going to have to remove your appendix. We will do laparoscopic surgery. You should be able to go home today or tomorrow. You’ll have pain meds and antibiotics to take. Take it easy for the next two weeks and then you should be good as new. Of course you’ll need to follow-up with a primary care doctor,” he explained. 

Jeremiah squeezed your hand, a silent signal that you were okay.

Your mom followed the doctor out into the hall, no doubt bombarding him with questions. 

It wasn’t long before they took you to pre-op. No family allowed. Everyone wished you luck and promised they’d be there when you got back.  In the room alone you were starting to freak out about everything that could go wrong. After all you had watched Greys Anatomy, you were aware that even the simplest surgeries could have fatal complications. You were so in your head that you hadn’t heard the door open. 

“How’s my beautiful girl?”

“Jeremiah? You’re not supposed to be here.” 

“I used my charm on one of the nurses. We only have a few minutes.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted.

“It’s okay,” he promised, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“But what if it's not?” 

“Then we will figure it out. Together. I promise.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m gonna sneak out, before I get caught,” he explained before kissing you.

-------------------

The next thing you remember was waking up. 

“Hey there Sleeping Beauty.” Jeremiah said, standing up. “How are you feeling?” 

“I feel great,” you answered, still loopy from the pain meds, “Has anyone ever told you you’re cute?” 

Everyone laughed.

“Surgery went well, we should be going home today,” your mom informed you. 

“You’re pretty, you know that?” you replied. 

Again everyone laughed. 

You well asleep again, the next time you woke up you were much more alert and oriented. This time only your mother and Jeremiah were in the room. The others had all been sent home by your mom. She would have tried to get Jeremiah to go with them, but she knew better.  

"Hi there," you smiled.

"Hi there," Jeremiah answered.

"How'd it go?" you asked.

"They said once your up and walking that we can head home."

"That's good," you paused, "Did you come visit me right before or was that a dream?"

"That was real," he smiled.

"So when they say I need to be up and walking, what are we talking? Cause I'd walk a marathon to get out of this gown and back into my clothes," you joke.

Jeremiah and your mom help you to stand and you start to walk a bit. It definitely felt weird. Your mom got one of the nurses and soon enough the Doctor came back in with discharge instructions. Jere took great pleasure in wheeling you out to the car.

When you got home the whole gang had a movie night. Though you fell asleep not even a quarter of the way through the first movie. Jeremiah just held you in his arms, happy to have you home.

[dappersautismcreature]

this is gonna be so sappy forgive me lmao

i have been alone on christmas before, ive been stuck at home while my mom was away with my sister, my dad was recovering from surgery, my dog was too, and just imagining how id sob if i had the community i have now to support me through that.

the qsmp team recognizing that and putting together a fun, funny, sweet, calming, gathering place stream is one of the sweetest things ive seen. i know if im ever alone on christmas, or ever feeling alone in general, i know i at least have this community to turn to. and that sweet vod to watch.

ive never been great at interacting online, its always seemed like a colder way of communicating to me, I struggle with it. but the people on here, you guys are full of warmth and genius ideas and are genuinely hilarious. every single one of you <3 its been a pleasure to post about qsmp with you guys for like, nine months.

due to a lot of weirdness surrounding friendships at the start of this year, with a few friends just totally ditching me, ive really needed to feel somewhat safe with people I interact with. thank you for being so kind and awesome, i feel safe in this space, lmao.

every single one of you, that celebrates christmas, i wish you the happiest of holidays. and if its not great, if its loud and scary and stressful and whatever, a bit of gary advice from someone who's been there, a day is a day, you can create the feeling whenever. do not hold joy to one day. holidays, even if nothing bad happens, can still be stressful, but that isn't eternal.

happy christmas, all that junk

[ivysturnss]

Transition -Sturniolo Triplets

Summary:Where the triplets come back home and have some news waiting for them.

Warnings: FLUFF!!! Usual swearing , mentions of surgery , crying ,questioning ur gender and I think that's it.

Pairing: older bro!triplets x ftm!reader

A/N: reader is 17 in this and I'm sorry if its bad I thought of this on the spot

Nick Matt Chris MaryLou You

------------------------------

You was currently sat up on the kitchen counter with my mom infront of u calming u down whilst small tears run down ur cheeks "What if they don't accept me!" "Buddy look at me please" you wipe ur nose with a tissue your mom had given u a few minutes prior then drifting ur eyes to look at her. "Are you listening to yourself right now , one of your brothers is gay and they accepted him ur not any different sweetie!" "I am though , nick hasn't changed he just likes boys but ive changed completely I haven't seen them in 9 months and the last time they saw me I was their little sister with long curly hair and braces." you say slightly raising ur voice and tears were now flowing heavily.

It was true the last time u had seen ur triplet brothers u had curly brown hair what hung just past ur chest , braces with pink bands , nails did but very short what u was forced to have done by ur best friend. None of ur friends and family knew at the time but just before ur brothers had came 9 and a half months ago u was questioning ur gender , long nights spent scrolling through tiktok and Pinterest looking at hairstyles for boys , male clothing just anything "boyish" in general and that's when it dawned on you. Im trans! You took inspiration from matts anxiety journal to make your own journal but instead of it being for anxiety you named it "Transition Journal". Any spare time you had you would write down ur thoughts , ways to tell ur family, name ideas and in the end it was full to the brim. It was a mix of a scrapbook and a diary it had photos cut out of outfits and where to buy the clothes and accessories from written next to it aswell as haircuts cut out so when u came out and got ur hair done you could show the barber what u wanted.

"No one else in the family views u any different so I highly doubt they will but if they dont they are getting the next flight back to la and never coming back in this house!" This makes you let out a little laugh and smile "That's not very nice you can't just kick them out like that" " I suppose that is a bit mean but whatever it takes to have u happy!" "Thanks , I'm so tired after all this crying so I'm going to get out of this and take a nap but can u text me when they are here and where they are in the house?" "Of course I can I'll also tell them not to go in your room have a good nap!"

3 hours and 15 minutes later

Your pov:

I wake up from my nap and automatically hear shouting and laughter downstairs so without even checking my phone I know my brothers are home , I sit up against my headboard and grab my phone and reply to a few of my friends who messaged me before checking my moms message.

Mom

-Hey buddy , we are all sat in the living room but we are watching a film so they are distracted so if you want a drink you will be able to get to the kitchen if you move quick enough.

You

-Alright I'll come down now please keep them distracted

read

I put my socks back on and fix my hair a bit before grabbing my phone and putting it in my pocket then quietly making my way to the stairs. I get halfway down and look to my side to see them all engrossed on the tv so I make a run for it running down the stairs and into the kitchen. I open the fridge and take out one of my Arizonas and slowly walking into the living room. When I reach the couch i sit down beside Chris casually taking a sip of my drink placing it on the small wooden table next to his pepsi. "There you are how was ur nap flo?" he asks still not taking his eyes of the tv but hearing him call u your dead name just felt weird the last time u was called it was a few months ago by a substitute in school but that wouldn't happen anymore as u had just graduated. I didn't answer him as technically he was speaking to no one and this makes him look at me , his head hadn't even turned half way before he quickly stands up Infront of me "What the fuck are u standing up for!" All i do was stare back at him as my body just froze there was two ways this could go he could either hug me and support me or could shout at me and leave and i wasn't sure what was happening. Matt and nick look over at me and do the exact same thing as chris and stand either side of him and because none of them where speaking i decide to.

End of ur pov

"I um.. I transitioned" your voice came out quietly but loud enough for everyone to hear. Your parents thought it was best for u to have this moment alone so they got up and walked into the kitchen shutting the door behind them. "We can see that, when did this happen" he asks in a soft tone but still in shock. It was pretty obvious to those around u that you wasn't a girl anymore u had short hair, a light stubble , you looked more masculine and u was currently wearing black and blue plaid pj bottoms with a vintage tee u had thrifted a few days ago. "Before u came the last time I was questioning it and I made a entire notebook full of things I still have it if u wanna see but anyway I told mom and dad like a month or 2 after u left and it just went from there I guess." "And why did u not tell us sooner?" "Well I wanted to tell u guys in person so that's why I waited till u came back and that's what I'm doing now". The 3 just nod and sit on the floor infront of u "Do you have a name like a name u want to be called from now on?" Matt asks putting on of his hands on ur knee comfortingly "Yeah I do actually , it's Finn but mom and dad call me buddy aswell!" "Good choice bud I like that name". "Do you think you'd ever get surgery?" "Well we looked into it and I'm at the right age as u have to be 16 and I'm 17 but we want to wait a bit before I do as we just wanna go day by day and not jump into it all at once y'know!". Matt looks over at nick and nick just nods knowing what he was going to say "Finn I don't wanna sound rude but who do u like?" "What do u mean who do I like?" "What's ur sexuality like I'm straight so is Chris and Justin but nicks gay so what are u?". I take a deep breath knowing this question was coming and try to hold back the tears but that doesn't happen. Nick is fast to move and sits beside u pulling u into a hug. "You don't have to tell us right now if u don't want to we can wait." "Mhm we will wait as long as u want us to wait" "No ill tell u" you sit back up but take nicks hand and he rubs his thumb against the back of ur hand. "As you now know I'm trans so ur probably thinking I like girls but I don't I still like boys". "Thank you for sharing this with us we are proud of you" "Just so you know we love you even more" "I love you guys aswell" "Guys do you know what this calls for?" "If I'm thinking what ur thinking I'm totally down" "Celebratory McDonald's?" "DUHHH". Nick and Chris run off to the car whilst matt stays back with you. "How about u get that notebook of urs and we can look at it whilst having our McDonald's." You nod and run up stairs to get the notebook whilst matt goes to the car.

35 minutes later

You was all sat in the McDonald's parking lot finishing up ur food and going through ur notebook. "Whys there a photo of my head? Chris questions pointing at the photo "It's because this is one of haircut pages and I liked ur hair back then so I was going to get it but I didn't in the end." "I think you would suit it you should definitely try it one time". "Hold on this is a very important question." "What is it?" "Do u watch RuPaul?" "I love that shit I watch it all the time" "MATT DRIVE US HOME RIGHT NOW ME AND FINN A STAYING UP ALL NIGHT AND BINGE WATCHING RUPAUL START THAT ENGINE!" the car erupts into laughter as matt starts the car to drive you guys home.

@6ix9inewiturmom @nicksbf @thenickgirl @soontosturniolo @delilahsturniolo @dirtylittleheart333 @pvssychicken @nicksbestie @talulahinthestars @nicksgirlfriend @schlutt4matty @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @zariyam @little-bisexual-intern @toysizee @sturniolowh-0-re @sturnobsessedwh0re @vanteguccir @mattthemunchsbiggestfan @delimeats-000 @sturnfannn @slutforsturnioloss @evie-sturns

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for suggesting that my friend (A) NOT focus so much money into her little brother's (B) top surgery?

their family, while not toxic or abusive, is a little more close (or enmeshed?) than i ever was with mine. and thats great! it works for them and i love how much they care for each other. but A is 25 and married, significantly in debt, has a kid (on purpose) and her husband hasnt earned that much in the years since he went straight from high school to the work force. he now has a job getting like 25-30 an hour i think, but still thats not a lot for their situation. she had a salaried job (about 30k/year) but it wasnt working for her and she decided to quit. which i totally support, the position wasnt great for her and she wasnt great for the position. if she hadnt quit, she woulda been let go. she's looking for new jobs now.

anyway, all this to say, they are NOT flush with cash. and yet, every penny they have left after basic needs is being put toward B's top surgery- before even paying down their debt.

i especially want to know if i'm the asshole in a transphobic sense, because part of my reasoning is that B is a super skinny kid, and only 15 years old. he has an A cup at most. and the family had to jump through a million hoops to get permission or whatever for him to get his top surgery as gender affirming care.

i've brought up the idea that maybe B waits till he's 18 and gets it as an elective/cosmetic procedure, because the cost will be about the same to do that versus to get it as gender-affirming care under insurance. and that gives B time to save up his own money, and his family more time to organize their finances and contribute their parts. but A never seems to give a direct answer for why their family is so set on B getting his surgery before he's 18. of course i believe he should be allowed to by law and he shouldn't have has to go through so much trouble.

but B works summers only, at a low-paying job (ive worked the same job when i was a teen, it isnt enough to save up much) and is depending on his family for all this, even though his sister (A) and parents are all in rough spots financially. A just seems so stressed about money and i wonder if i'm the asshole for thinking she should just focus on her and her little immediate family for a while till theyre back on their feet. its noble and caring to be so invested in B getting the care he needs, but it's hurting A's finances, mental health, and family stress levels.

of course at the end of the day, it's none of my business. i'm A's friend, not life coach or money manager or anything else. i'm just curious what the aita voters think about all this. if i were to push the issue and make suggestions, would i be the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[ravennaortiz]

One day

Summary: Sequel to Be Okay- A Chibs Story

As always 18+

Chibs sat in the chapel of the hospital. He had been on his knees, hands clasped crying and begging for hours for you too be okay. For the doctors and nurses to put you back together. For you to open those beautiful eyes. For you to say anything at all. To see your smile, hear your laugh, feel you warm breath on his ear as you whispered to him. Once again he found himself traveling down the reason he was here and you were in surgery. “My fault” he said out loud his words echoing off the walls.

 The ambulance ride had been tense and painful. His mind reeling of the what ifs. They were struggling to get an iv when your heart stopped. The drawn out beep and the blank screen had been gut wrenching. He could only sit back and watch as the paramedics fought to bring you back. The crack of ribs, demands to push this and that made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t look away though. His eyes were locked on your lifeless ones. He prayed to a god he wasn’t sure he still believed in. He prayed for you to be okay. He pleaded for him to fix this, this you. Give you a chance like you had given him a chance. “My fault” mumbled Chibs right as the monitor beeped again and showed a slight pulse. With a shaky breath he exhaled as he closed his eyes, thank you.

“I need to go with her” Chibs had bellowed as he swung at one of the male nurses. Thankfully for him and the nurse Tig and Juice grabbed onto him and pulled him back to the doors of the er. “Chibs, shhh, its okay” murmured Tig as he held Chibs to him. “No no no” grunted Chibs as he struggled to get out of both man’s grip. “You gotta let them work on her. They have to take her somewhere you can’t go. “soothed Tig. “I need her to be okay Tig” murmured Chibs as he slowly dropped to his knees. “We know” stated Juice as he patted Chibs shoulder. “All my fault boys” Chibs murmured as tears poured down his scarred face.

“Chibs” called Tara as she stepped into the chapel carefully. Frowning as she caught the older mans words. She knew there would be no use in correcting him though. Chibs bolted up his eyes red and swollen. He looked frantic. “Is she” he started to ask as Tara smiled softly and nodded. “She’s going to be okay. She is coming off anesthesia and should be awake in hopefully a few hours.” Replied Tara as Chibs moved and pulled her in for a hug. “Thank you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you” sniffled Chibs.

Once you were able to have visitors he was by your side. Holding your hand, fixing you hair, placing gentle kisses over the bruises on your face. He would have climbed in the bed but Tara said you were to fragile. He talked to you, sang to you. Listed all the reasons he loved you. Waiting on you to open your eyes so he could bask in your love that shown through. The club came and went around him. Dropping off fresh coffee, gifts and food.

You were well loved by the club. Each member have a unique relationship with you. You were more than just Chibs Old Lady. You were warm and friendly, always taking care of them. Looking out when you could. Sweet as pie is how Happy described you. Calm in the eye of any storm. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. All this to say is why Tig and Juice were so slow to respond to the angry screams and sound of things crashing from your hospital room. Surely you wouldn’t be yelling and cussing right?

“Lassie stop… It’s me” begged Chibs as he dodged flying medical equipment as you screamed at him to get out. Your eyes full of a fury and hatred he had never seen before.

“What’s going on?” demanded Tara as she pushed the men out of her way.

“I don’t want them in here” you had spat as tears poured down your face. Tara simply nodded as she started to usher the three men out.

“Wait. Love please” pleaded Chibs as he managed to get to your bedside. Your next words nearly killed him.

***

Your words echoed through Chibs mind as he rode back home from the hospital. He wanted nothing more to stay but you had sent him away. He had left like a beat dog with his tail tucked as Tig and Juice tried to plead his case.

"Why did it take you so long?"

He couldn’t blame you. It was a valid question. One he didn’t have an answer for. One day you would forgive him though he prayed.

Three Months Later

"Look at you Lass" murmured Chibs as he sat watching you take your first steps since your attack. You gave him a small smile as tears snaked down your cheeks and your body shook with the effort.

You thought that week being beaten had been hell but nothing had come close to touching the torture that was relearning how to do things that came easily. You were thankful for Chibs sticking by you no matter how mean you were, how many things you threw at him. Him and his love were always by your side. Telling you one day you would be okay.

"Guess one day was today" you stated as he kissed your forehead once you had reached him.

[holdmeclosebutdontloveme]

CW: Mentions of previous experience with miscarriage.

The sun setting down to the sea, leaving a palette of orange and purple in the sky. The waves move freely, its water cool against his skin with a breeze that compliments it well. Such scenery have been constant in his life for a few years now and yet he is always grateful each time his attention moves away from his kitchen, in a daze of the nature sitting close to his home.

Unbothered by the fast-paced changes of the city life, Nanami have finally settled at a town far away - with you.

You had pushed him to quit his job, albeit unaware of the direct influence you had over his decision. But the stresses of the corporate world have left him mentally and physically unwell; leaving him on a brink of self-harm through alcohol and continuous overtime to push forward an agenda he is barely rewarded for.

Nanami feels guilty for the sympathy you always cuddle him with. Even if you offered it, willingly, pouring out the love you have for him through words and actions.

Now, the two of you have finally pursued the dream he had only imagined. A cafe near the sea, a concept Nanami never thought to be feasible but locals and tourists alike flock in for the baked goods he makes in the kitchen and enjoys the beverage you always have a knack for.

Even Satoru visits a few times in a week, buying more than he could eat just to pack it up for his students.

It's a blissful life with its own ups and downs but, regardless, Nanami readily faces everything.

Despite it all, he was unprepared for this.

You have been at the beach these days, especially when the cafe is quiet and knows that Nanami can easily handle both the kitchen and cash register alone. He doesn't mind the extra workload, aware of the time you need to process the tragedy you have faced while he was away that day.

And as he closes the cafe earlier than its initial closing time, a habit that slowly becomes a routine, he sees you on the shore.

You have changed from your usual work get-up, opting for the comfort of shorts and t-shirt. Nanami also notices you were barefoot, leading what little waves that ends up on the beach to greet the soles of your feet. The breeze have swept away your hair, tucking a few strands on the back of your ear with a solemn expression, all the while you faced the sunset.

The purple hue darkens the corners of your face as the little yellow strokes glisten the unshed tears in your eyes, even your wedding ring was shining brightly. Silence was what greeted him as he stood next to you, mimicking the words he couldn't say and gulps it all down to burn in the acid of his stomach, feeding him until hunger arrives once more for dinner.

Unfortunately, his appetite have diminished to nothing these days. Not even his favorite bread could heal a wounded heart. Not when yours have closed off entirely.

However, the persistence of a habit have left you to caress the tiny swell of your belly. A reminder of what had been there - the future, a life.

His daughter who he dreams of every night, listening to her laughter as her feet felt the waves for the first time. Her dress wet by the splatters of seawater done by you and a cheeky smile he gave to reprimand your behavior.

Sometimes she would've look like you, other times his daughter was his own image as a child. But regardless of the features she'll inherit, she was beautiful.

Most especially, she was his and yours entirely, molded by a love so big it couldn't be contained inside his heart. Yet she left before was done being baked in your belly.

"To somewhere better," you had said to him, while tears streamed down to your chin, trying to keep up a smile just to cheer him up. Even if you were the one being admitted in the hospital, tied with an IV fluid and monitored heavily by doctors and nurses.

You were alone when it happened and alone once more while you have undergone surgery to remove your little girl from her home within you. A tiny thing, intangible and bloody in form, but you describe him of the love you felt as you saw her out of you for the first time.

You couldn't hold her but the nurses have put her in a blanket near you. Before she was taken away for good.

Nanami...

If Nanami had been there, he doesn't know what he would've done. The possibilities were endless but the overall reaction he has for himself was an indescribable anger towards his absences, all caused by inconveniences conveniently placed at the wrong time at the wrong place.

He deserves the judgement from the nurses placed on him, their whispers and scowls of being a horrible husband who had left his wife to mourn for their baby by themselves.

It echoes in his head, in times where he was alone at the cafe or at home where sleeplessness eats his time away. Always looking at you, in a daze and in pain.

Just like how he is right now with his tears rolling down to his shirt with an opened mouth that fails to utter a word.

Unworthy of the hand that hold his tight.

[the-hopeless-haze]

When Will the Clouds All Disappear? (ch1)

Gregory House x Reader - part of Series If You Want It, You Can Bleed on Me

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: heavy suicidal ideation

“Kind of rude to make a cripple head to the roof of a building to look for you.” You hear his voice, loud and clear behind you, gravelly and distinctly masculine. You’d know it was him anywhere.

“What do you want, Greg?” You ask, sniffling. You're sitting on the ground, your back against the ledge, having made yourself sick staring off it for a good ten minutes before he arrived. Your head is in your hands, blocking him out, blocking everything out. You can’t open your eyes. You can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“You know,” he says firmly. You wish you had four hands so you could block your ears, too. You wish you were senseless. It would be so much easier. So much more peaceful.

“You wouldn’t have to worry anymore. I would just be gone,” you say, and you hate this, you hate everything, you wish he didn’t come up here so you could jump. Guilt-free. You know you look fucking ridiculous, with your hospital gown riding up to your thighs and those stupid non-slip socks damn near falling off your feet. Your hair is blowing wildly in the bitter January wind, and you feel lightheaded and woozy as it is, having pulled out your IV that hooked you up to fluids a half hour ago now.

“That isn’t what I want. I want you to come back downstairs with me.”

“How did you even know I was up here?” you question.

“You’re the one thing I can and can’t predict. Knew you’d come up here when they said you left the bed… still don’t know if anything I can say can get through to you. If you jump I jump?”

You shake your head. “No. You deserve to live.”

“And you don’t think you do?”

“No. And I don’t want to either.”

“Why not? I thought we had fun together.”“But you don’t care—“

“Why am I up here with you freezing my ass off if I don’t care?”

“Just go.”

“Not without you, sweetheart.”

You grimace at the pet name, it sounds so fake coming from his lips. “You didn’t even come to see me,” you whisper.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know what to say.”“Anything would’ve been better than nothing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. You’ll say anything so I don’t jump,” you say, tasting bitterness acrid on your tongue. You wish you could turn off your brain, but you’ve been here before, seconds to an attempt and still gone through with it with no one to stop you except for your diseased brain. And it was diseased, every impulse usually hardwired to keep your body alive at all costs screaming to be let out of its misery and to just let you die, please. It’s almost like an addiction, instead of one more hit, it’s just like, one more thing to let go of. One more thing to convince yourself doesn’t matter, one more person to convince yourself wants you to die or doesn’t care if you go, one more event you’ll never get to live through that you convince yourself you didn’t want to attend anyway.

“I mean it,” he says urgently. “I’m sorry. Okay? I’ve been a shitty boyfriend, lover, friend with benefits, or whatever you want to call me. I know I’m not the reason you’re contemplating this right now. You’ve struggled with this all your life. I’m not going to fix it. But Jesus Christ. You and I both know this isn’t the goddamn answer. You spent your whole life going to school and working to prevent people from offing themselves.”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you,” he says. “I came for the surgery—“

“You had plenty of time to see me. You weren’t there when I needed you to be! I’m just another patient, is that it? Don’t come visit them unless you think you’ll learn something? What was it, you never got to see a D&C before? I called you, Greg. You never answered. I had to call Wilson to make sure you weren’t dead but of course, you weren’t, you were just avoiding me and why should I expect anything more from you? Of course you run when things get hard; when the woman you’ve been fucking might need a little more than after-sex cuddles.” You stand up as you say this, turning your back to him, looking over the ledge. Fuck.

“I’m sorry. Just please don’t jump,” he says and if you were in your right mind you’d notice that he was getting increasingly desperate, but you aren’t noticing much of anything right now. Except that your plans were thwarted. You see firefighters and they’ve already set up a trampoline on the side of the building. You don’t say anything, nothing at all, and you start to walk away from that ledge and then sprint toward the other one, hoping that you can get over there, run faster than he can, but he’s on you, and he moves fast for someone with an injured leg when the adrenaline kicks in, and you feel yourself knocked to the ground, his warm breath fanning your face.

“Got you. You’re not getting away from me that easy,” he says, and you finally look at him for the first time since you’ve been up here. You wish he would crush you to death but he’s barely putting his weight on you, just enough that you can’t move.

“I can’t go through this again,” you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut, and you expect the hysterical tears but they never come. You feel numb. Empty.

“You can. You can and you will.”

“You’re going to put me on a hold?”

“I have to,” he says, and you could trick yourself into thinking there’s guilt in his blue eyes when you open yours again. “I’ll make sure they give you the good stuff. Say you need to be chemically restrained. Order you Haldol, Ativan, or whatever you want. But I need… I need to know you’re safe.”

“So you’ll sedate me?”

“It’s the only way I’ll be able to sleep.”

“Just like you to make it about yourself, huh?”

“Shut up,” he says sternly, tacking your name on the end of the command like a warning. “This isn’t about me. None of this is about me. I know that.”

“Then you should have let me go.”

“One day you’ll thank me,” he says, digging his phone out of his jacket pocket. “Hey. Yeah. I need help bringing her downstairs. She’s not going to go willingly.”

You hate how he’s talking about you the way you would talk about patients to your coworkers, and you hate him for calling Wilson to help him walk you down the stairs. Wilson’s a certified sap, and the look on his face, his brown eyes sympathetic and his brows furrowed… makes you want to hit him, and maybe you’d try if you had the energy to. You don’t want pity. You want to be left to your own devices. You want nothing, hatred, you could stand, but Wilson looking at you like you were a kicked puppy is more than you can handle right now.

“I wasn’t going to jump,” you say, and it’s unconvincing even to your own ears. “I wasn’t even on the ledge when you came up here.”

“Yeah. Well. It’s enough that I don’t believe you,” Greg says. “Your track record sucks. Every attempt has been after a traumatic event. Forgive me for being a little worried.”

You’re about to protest, say he doesn’t know anything, but you know he went through your medical files before the first time your lips touched his. Fair enough. Two could play at that game, certainly, and you took what you felt you could without him getting suspicious out of your file. You looked through his, too, because what’s good for him is by all means fucking good for you too, and if you can’t have normal conversations like a normal couple, at least you could learn about each other unconventionally. Isn’t that love, at least kind of love, searching high and low for information, trying to memorize somebody else like you know yourself?

Never mind that it’s illegal.

You feel his mouth on yours, his scruff scratching pleasantly at your skin, and… yeah. That’s when the fucking tears come.

You wish neither of these men saw you like this. You were meant to be firm, cold but compassionate, distant but likable, albeit only from that distance. You didn’t get close to people, not since you were younger, because you knew how you’d get and you knew it was a horrific sight. Wilson, you love like a brother, but Gregory… you love irrevocably, irreverently, irreversibly. Intense is an understatement, and you wish it wasn’t the case, you wish so badly you could turn it off and become the woman you were before that man and his cane hobbled into your life. You wish more than anything you were alone right now.

But then again. You might not be alive.

“Shh. It’s okay,” he says, and you don’t believe him. He doesn’t believe it himself. It’s just something to say. And he hates those clichés. He hates talking just to talk. Yet … he says that to you. He lies to you, just for your benefit. Everybody lies.. but it's usually for their own gain. “I don’t want to make this worse than it has to be,” he says slowly. “Make this easy for us.”

“You have drugs on you, Greg,” you say, rolling your eyes through your tears. You hate that you know him this well. “You’re prepared to sedate me regardless.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t want to have to get to that point. Would you rather be sedated? Because I can arrange that.”

“Get off me.”

“Are you going to walk with us?”

“Yeah,” you huff.

“Good girl,” he says, and in a different context that would lead to something very different than this. But no. He lifts himself off you instead of dicking you down, wincing when he puts his weight back on his leg, and he and Wilson both help you off the concrete roof. It’s now you realize your back is scraped from when Greg pushed you down, and you grimace as you stand up. Everything hurts.

You have four strong hands on your body now, Wilson’s thin graceful fingers wrapping around your left arm, the other hand on the small of your back to steady you. Greg, you’re more fine with seeing you this way, he’s a train wreck himself and you’ve gotten him out of his shell before. But Wilson? He’s got everything together, well, except for his marriages. House’s larger hands grip you too, one hand firm on your right shoulder and the other around your side.

It’s a slow walk down the stairs, back into the building and you feel a rush of relief at the feeling of heat on your body, but then it becomes too much and you don’t know what you’re fighting for because you know there’s no way you could run, you may be faster than Greg but there’s no way you’d get by Wilson in your current state, and then you’re pushed against the wall in the staircase, Wilson’s calling for security on a radio and a gurney on the radio, and they’re both holding you there and you’re struggling against them, arms you try to push out of the way and legs you try to kick but it’s to no avail, you feel the slight pinch of a needle in your arm and … that’s it. Maybe this is what you were asking for but you were too ashamed to say, too ashamed to acquiesce verbally to the sedation, too embarrassed to say “no, I need to be unconscious for this, thank you.” But you weren’t too embarrassed to pull a fucking nutty in the staircase of the hospital you work at.

“I would’ve just given it to you,” you hear Greg say. “You don’t have to do everything the hard way.”

And then, thankfully, mercifully, pleasantly, you fade out and away.

[untoldsoup]

Just wanted to make a quick update!

I know some people have expressed concern over my mental health because of the speed I get updates out so I figured I would make a post to clear the air.

Yes, I draw 3-4 or more hours a day. And I know it sounds alarming but I'm an introvert. I spend most of my time between work and home. Before starting this comic I would either play video games all day or scroll the Internet. If you look at my blog history, you will see I've actually had this blog since 2020. However before this comic I posted barely anything. Maybe one to two arts a year.

I had a long span of depression and life and health issues that really affected my passion for art (a year of spine problems that also prevented me from drawing until I had emergency surgery). Getting into the mario fandom really reignited my drive to draw again. When I find something I like I hyper fixate on it A LOT. I did the same with starwars for 4 years with a previous blog.

Also, this is my first time actually committing to a comic and I'm having a ton of fun with it, learning new things and fully enjoying the experience.

I do take breaks for other things (over the summer I worked less on the comic and more on other sidlink projects ect) to prevent burnout.

But drawing really is relaxing when I get home from work. I put on youtube or music and work on a page, then do some chores and a few other things before bed.

Not to mention I got a system down now and its easier to start and finish pages than it was at the beginning.

I'm working on the last update now and whats really motivating me is proving to myself I can finish such a large project. Ive never worked on something this big before and there is a sense of pride in completing it. I also plan on working on a ten page epilogue that wont be post on tumblr due to the nsfw rules, but will probably have on bluesky or discord or something.

I think after that I will however take a small break before working on the sequel (I do have the first 12 pages of the sequel ready to go, but it wont be posted till chapters one and two are both finished) just so I dont stress about it.

I'm a very anxious, isolated person and having projects to work on has helped a lot. I also started some depression meds this year that have been a boon to getting stuff done and not being sad all the time lol.

So all is well rn!! I'm on page 57 right now for the comic, and have a long xmas break coming up so I might meet my deadline who knows XD