#or dismissed. or not taken seriously. or seen as overreacting

[roachemoji]

can someone put out A hit on me but instead of killing me they just come and hold me. a hired thug for a hired hug

[lesbianfeminists]

From heart disease to IUDs: How doctors dismiss women’s pain

Several studies support the claim that gender bias in medicine routinely leads to a denial of pain relief for female patients for a range of health conditions

One woman was told she was being “dramatic” when she pleaded for a brain scan after suffering months of headaches and pounding in her ears. It turned out she had a brain tumor. Another was ignored as she cried out in pain during a 33-hour labor. She was supposed to be getting pain medication through her epidural, but it had fallen out. Dozens of women complained of torturous pain as their vaginal walls were punctured during an egg retrieval process. They were told their pain was normal, but, in actuality, they were getting saline instead of anesthesia. These are just some of the stories of women who say their pain and suffering has been dismissed or misdiagnosed by doctors. Although these are anecdotal reports, a number of studies support the claim that women in pain often are not taken as seriously as men.

This year, the Journal of the American Heart Association reported that women who visited emergency departments with chest pain waited 29 percent longer than men to be evaluated for possible heart attacks. An analysis of 981 emergency room visits showed that women with acute abdominal pain were up to 25 percent less likely than their male counterparts to be treated with powerful opioid painkillers. Another study showed that middle-aged women with chest pain and other symptoms of heart disease were twice as likely to be diagnosed with a mental illness compared with men who had the same symptoms. “I was told I knew too much, that I was working too hard, that I was stressed out, that I was anxious,” said Ilene Ruhoy, a 53-year-old neurologist from Seattle, who had head pain and pounding in her ears. Despite having a medical degree, Ruhoy said she struggled to get doctors to order a brain scan. By the time she got it in 2015, a tennis ball-sized tumor was pushing her brain to one side. She needed surgery, but first, she rushed home, hugged her 11-year-old daughter and wrote her a letter to tell her goodbye.

Ruhoy did not die on the operating table, but her tumor had grown so large it could not be entirely removed. Now, she has several smaller tumors that require radiation treatment. She said many of her female patients have had experiences similar to hers. “They’re not validated with regards to their concerns; they’re gaslit; they’re not understood,” she said. “They feel like no one is listening to them.”

Doubts about women’s pain can affect treatment for a wide range of health issues, including heart problems, stroke, reproductive health, chronic illnesses, adolescent pain and physical pain, among other things, studies show. Research also suggests that women are more sensitive to pain than men and are more likely to express it, so their pain is often seen as an overreaction rather than a reality, said Roger Fillingim, director of the Pain Research and Intervention Center of Excellence at the University of Florida. Fillingim, who co-wrote a review article on sex differences in pain, said there are many possible explanations, including hormones, genetics and even social factors such as gender roles. Regardless, he said, “you treat the pain that the patient has, not the pain that you think the patient should have.”

Women say reproductive health complaints are commonly ignored

Women often cite pain bias around areas of reproductive health, including endometriosis, labor pain and insertion of an intrauterine device, or IUD. When Molly Hill made an appointment at a Connecticut clinic in 2017 to get an IUD, she said she was warned it would be uncomfortable, but she was not prepared for “horrific” pain. Hill, now 27 and living in San Francisco, recalled that during the procedure, she began crying in pain and shouted at the doctor to stop. “We’re almost done,” she said the doctor told her and continued the procedure. “It was full-body, electrifying, knife-stabbing pain,” she said. After it was done, she said she lay sobbing on the table in physical and emotional pain. “It felt violating, too, to have that pain that deep in your core where you feel the most vulnerable.”

Studies consistently show that women who have not experienced vaginal birth have much higher pain during IUD insertion compared with women who have given birth. A Swedish study found that among 224 women who had not given birth, 89 percent reported moderate or severe pain. One in six of the women said the pain was severe. Although numbing agents and local anesthetics are available, they are rarely used.

In some cases, women have sued physicians for ignoring their pain. Dozens of women sued Yale University claiming that during an egg harvesting procedure at its infertility clinic, they were supposed to be receiving the powerful painkiller fentanyl. But some women were getting only diluted pain medication or none at all, according to lawsuits filed in the state Superior Court in Connecticut. Later, the clinic discovered a nurse had been stealing vials of fentanyl and replacing the painkiller with saline solution. The nurse pleaded guilty last year and was sentenced for tampering with the drugs. One of the plaintiffs, Laura Czar, wrote about her experience for Elle magazine, describing it as “a horrible, gut-wrenching pain,” and told a doctor at the time, “I can feel everything you’re doing.” Despite her protests, the doctor continued. Yale said in a statement that it “deeply regrets” the women’s distress and has “reviewed its procedures and made changes to further oversight of pain control and controlled substances.”

Racial disparities in pain management

For Sharee Turpin, the pain of sickle-cell disease sometimes feels like tiny knives slicing her open. Sickle cell disease is an inherited blood disorder that can cause suffering so severe, its attacks are called “pain crises.” But when Turpin, who is Black, experiences a pain crisis, the 34-year-old does not rush to the ER in Rochester, N.Y. Instead, she combs her hair, mists some perfume and slips on her “Sunday best” in hopes that the doctors and nurses won’t peg her as a drug seeker, she said. Sometimes, Turpin gets a care team that understands her pain. Other times, she is treated as a bother. “I’ve even been told ‘shut up’ by a nurse because I was screaming too loud while I was in pain,” she said.

Abundant research shows racial bias in pain treatment. A 2016 study found half of white medical students and residents held at least one false belief about biological differences between Blacks and Whites, and were more likely to underestimate Black patients’ pain. “The management of pain is one of the largest disparities that we see between Black people and White people in the American health-care system,” said Tina Sacks, an associate professor at the University of California at Berkeley and author of “Invisible Visits: Black Middle-Class Women in the American Healthcare System.”

Labeling women “hysterical” or blaming psychological causes

Research shows men in chronic pain tend to be regarded as “stoic” while women are more likely to be considered “emotional” and “hysterical” and accused of “fabricating the pain.” Carol Klay, a 68-year-old from Tampa, had endured years of chronic pain from arthritis, degenerative disk disease and spinal stenosis. During a hospital stay last year, her doctor noted in her medical record that she was crying “hysterically.” Klay said she was crying because she was unable to sit, stand or walk without agony, and the doctor had removed morphine from her cocktail of pain medications. She wonders whether the doctor “would have called me hysterical if I was a man,” she said. Tampa General Hospital said it could not discuss specific patients, but stated: “Patient treatment plans, including medication orders to reduce pain, are prescribed by multi-disciplinary clinical teams.” Research shows women’s physical pain is also often attributed to psychological causes.

Jan Maderios, a 72-year-old Air Force veteran from Chipley, Fla., said the trauma of having pain dismissed by doctors has stayed with her for years. She saw about a dozen doctors in the early 1970s for pelvic pain. When clinicians could not identify the cause of her pain, she was referred to a psychiatrist.

“You start to doubt yourself after so many medical experts tell you there’s nothing wrong with you,” she said. After a hysterectomy in 1976, Maderios learned that fibroid tumors in her uterus had been the source of her pain. She said learning her pain was real — and physical — “made all the difference in the world.”

Why women’s pain complaints often aren’t taken seriously

During a 33-hour labor with her first child in 2011, Anushay Hossain, 42, of D.C., opted for epidural pain relief but said she still felt it all — every contraction, every cramp and every dismissal of her pain by her medical team. The doctor reassured her that she was getting the maximum dosage of pain medication.

In fact, she wasn’t getting any at all. She said her epidural had slipped out. By the time the error was caught, she was shaking uncontrollably and in need of an emergency Caesarean section, she said. “There’s a pain gap, but there’s also a credibility gap,” said Hossain, author of “The Pain Gap: How Sexism and Racism in Healthcare Kill Women.” “Women are not believed about their bodies —period.”

This pain gap may stem, in part, from the fact that women have historically been excluded from medical research. It wasn’t until 2016 that the National Institutes of Health (NIH) required sex to be considered as a biological variable in most studies it funded. “We’re making progress,” said David Thomas, special adviser to the director of NIH’s Office of Research on Women’s Health. “But we do have a long way to go because there’s this whole institutional approach to doing research — pain and beyond — where it tends to be male-focused.”

Nearly 95 percent of U.S. medical school students said instruction on sex and gender differences in medicine should be included in curriculums, according to a 2015 survey. But only 43 percent said their curriculum had helped them understand those differences and only 34.5 percent said they felt prepared to manage them in a health-care setting.

“It is changing, but it’s changing very slowly,” said Janice Werbinski, immediate past president of the American Medical Women’s Association and chair of the mentorship committee of the association’s Sex and Gender Health Collaborative.

How women can advocate for better pain care

It took decades to solve the mystery of Maureen Woods’s chronic pain. Woods, 64, of Myersville, Md., started having joint pain in her teens and, over the years, told dozens of doctors her pain was “debilitating,” she said. Some told her it was all in her head. In 2017, she was diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, a connective tissue disorder often causing loose joints, dislocations and chronic pain. She said women who are not being heard should keep advocating for themselves. “You have to go with your gut — something is wrong and I need to find a doctor who can figure it out,” she said. Marjorie Jenkins, dean of the University of South Carolina School of Medicine Greenville, urged women against feeling pressured to accept an “everything is normal” non-diagnosis. “If your provider does not appear to be listening to you or believing what you’re saying, then you need a new provider,” Jenkins said. “You are the client, you are the customer and you are the owner of your health.”

Women can also take a family member, friend or other support person who can corroborate their stories, said Alyson McGregor, an emergency medicine professor at the University of South Carolina School of Medicine Greenville and author of the book “Sex Matters: How Male-Centric Medicine Endangers Women’s Health and What We Can Do About It.” Particularly in emergency departments, she said, there can be an inherent bias. “There’s this assumption that women are emotional and they’re anxious and that that’s the main issue,” she said.

[cumulohimbus]

Dear fellow transmascs, trans men, afab nonbinary beings, and anyone who is not directly impacted by transmisogny; (*Note: we won't get all the terminology right here probably, but we don't keep up so much on current discourse about labels and acronyms--we apologize if some is outdated, we did our best.)

We know sometimes it's hard to not feel hurt, and in some cases personally smeared by other beings talking about the impact of transmisogny and transmisogynoir. Sometimes these messages are interwoven with comments about shitty (white) transmasc/afab enby beings, and we understand the urge to protest: "Are we not also at risk of discrimination and violence for being trans?"

Well, yeah, sure. And there's already a word for that: it's just "misogyny". This being is not so scared of being saddled with unlawful charges or even flat out murdered by police, because we expect that, despite passing okay-ish, if police were to clock us as trans they're going to just treat us as uwu weak woman.

We have noticed a common pattern with transphobia/transmisia.

For transmascs & afab enbys, transphobia/transmisia often seems to manifest in being dismissed and not taken seriously. "You're just a lesbian." "You just have depression and anxiety and you're overreacting." "You must have penis envy." It's patronizing and invalidating, absolutely. We cannot just be what we say we are; we will forever be the weaker, submissive, maternal ones. Some of y'all get so incensed at this that you participate in "pragmatic denialism", i.e. the mindset of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em". You swing so hard at masculinity that you perpetuate unjust and demeaning patriarchal social structures. This being has been there before--early on in our transition, because it was the only way we felt like we could have any sort of autonomy. And we've moved past that now; we very much hope you learn to do the same.

A former religion teacher of ours once mailed us a four-page handwritten letter about how she was praying for us because we must be so mentally ill to think we're trans. She could accept us if we were bisexual, but we "have a vagina", therefore we "are a woman".

But she didn't silence our voice and try to cut us off from our entire community. She didn't threaten (or perpetrate) violence or calling law enforcement on us. She didn't call us an "it" (I mean, it/its pronouns are fine for us these days, but you know what we mean). She didn't paint us as a sexual deviant or predator. She didn't brand our very existence as obscene. We were wrong--misguided--but never obscene.

For transfem and amab enbys, transphobia/transmisia carries extra layers of complexity. Many deal with a number of the same things we've described above I'm sure (the not being taken seriously, especially if they do not go to great lengths to present themself as femininely as possible, which we find extraordinarily infuriating). But then there are those who do take transfem and amab enby beings seriously, and in doing so also label them as abominations. Because who would willingly demote themself to womanhood and femininity? There must be some sort of predatory motive...

To try to summarize these patterns of transphobia:

Transmascs/afab queers = are and will always be women = misogyny Transfems/amab queers = were men who 'chose' to demote themselves to womanhood (and therefore must have some dangerous ulterior motive) = transmisogyny (a type of misogyny where victims are seen as men simply playing pretend as women; it denies transfem beings their womanhood AND punishes them for their femininity because femininity is already inferior to masculinity)

All this is to say, please don't divide the community more. Please just listen to the experiences of trans women and amab queer folks; ask how you can be supportive if you're able. And do yourself a favor as well: throw away your puritanical beliefs about obscenity. Obscenity is largely a whole crock of bullshit. My religion teacher would have been equally, if not more correct about us if she had deemed us "sexually deviant" instead of merely "mentally ill", and you know what? We own our weird kinks; they're not hurting anybody else (unless it's consensual ;p ).

For those that read all the way to here, there is nuance we surely skipped over for the sake of this post not being wordier than it already is. We encourage you to analyze the words we have said, and not put any in our mouth which we have not said. The things we have left out would require an entire textbook.

Transfems and amab queer folks (and also intersex folks!) feel free to add on anything as you see fit; my sword and shield are yours.

-Cumulohimbus, et al.

[askgothamshitty]

Hi! I really don’t want to annoy you but I am really frustrated and I don’t have anyone to talk to and I feel a little alone so I hope this long ass message isn’t going to be too much of a bother to read. I have been having conversations with my boyfriend about what’s been going on with the show called The Boys (I don’t watch the show I just hear what’s been happening from him) and what’s been going on with a character name Hughie and it’s brought up a lot of conversations about male victims of SA/DV and female abusers/sexual predators because Hughie was repeatedly sexually assaulted this season. It’s not that I don’t think he has valid points but sometimes he gives me MRA vibes and I love him a lot so I wanted to get your input if I am being irrational or I am missing something from my thought process that is keeping me seeing from his perspective completely. And if he is wrong on some parts can you please tell me your thoughts and how you would explain it? Because I am at a loss on how to properly address female abusers/predators and male victims in a way that doesn’t make me feel like we’ve hit MRA talking points and in a way that properly addresses how male victims/female assailants are treated. On tv male victims have the absolute worst representation, I have lost count on how many times a woman has raped a man on screen and it was treated like an oppsie or a minor bump in the road or it wasn’t acknowledged at all by show or fandom, like it has ruined SO many shows and movies for me (and they’re pretty popular too). My boyfriend mentioned The Boys and How to Get Away with Murder and Bridgerton as examples. He said male victims are treated way less seriously in comparison to female victims and at least women are allowed to be victims but there is something that bothered me that I can’t quite put into words why. In Bridgerton what Daphne did to Simon was rape as well as reproductive coercion but because it was a women doing it to a man it’s not seen as either. Do you know how to address this kind of thing that would be helpful to male victims of this kind of thing? And do you think this is an appropriate or accurate way to talk about this? Something is not quite right about this to me, the way that people usually talk about male victims and female perpetrators implies that there is equality that that male victims have yet to reach to where female victims are at and thinking about female perpetrators needing to be treated as seriously as men make me want to break out in hives but at the same time they ARE treated as if they’re less guilty. I don’t know how to properly explain why there is something off with this framing to him so I was wondering what are your thoughts on how we should address male victims and female abusers/predators? Is imagine if the roles are reversed way of talking about this valid or is it just an MRA thing? And do you think male victims have a harder time being believed than female victims and have a harder time in general?

You’re not bothering me at all, lovely! 😊

This is my perspective: it is true that male victims of sexual assault are not taken seriously, especially when the perpetrator is a female. This is due to the patriarchal ideology of rape that only understands men as (“natural”) rapists/women as (“natural”) victims.

There are ways in media that male victims are treated differently than female victims. Particularly, there is a persistent trope that treats male rape as funny and goofy. Pop Culture Detective on YouTube has a great video about this.

However, just because female victims are not involved in this trope does NOT mean things are easier for them in our culture. They are not taken seriously, they are seen as hysterical and overreacting, particularly in cases of intimate partner rape. They are not seen as victims, rather they are often seen as women who had a regretful sexual experience or a vengeful ex or a promiscuous slut. They are not believed, they are dismissed and ignored. Male perpetrators are not hated, they do not have their lives ruined, they are not blamed.

So the bottom line is, yes, male victims are not taken seriously. Neither are female victims. Our rape culture denigrates victims of all genders.

Further, yes, this “haha a woman raped this man” media trope is unique to men and you don’t really see the opposite happening on prime time TV. But there are also unique ways female victims are treated in media (specifically, coercive behavior is played as romantic on TV/movies, and assault/battery is eroticized in porn).

I would definitely say that trying to argue that women are privileged in this area, that women are believed when men are not, is an MRA talking point. This doesn’t necessarily mean that your BF is in MRA/red pill communities because this rhetoric is pretty popular everywhere, even among women and online social justice advocates.

Maybe sit down with him and talk about how terrible those tropes are (again I recommend that YouTube video) and how those play into myths about “legitimate” victims and perpetrators. But also make it a point to explain how the inverse is NOT true, and that female victims are also mistreated, not believed, etc.

[crippleprophet]

hiii!! i was wondering if u have any advice on getting taken seriously and getting care in an emergency department as a chronically ill/disabled person?

i've had progressive muscle weakness, fatigue, nerve issues, and pain for like five years that hasn't been properly diagnosed (been told it was fibro but. doesn't seem to fully fit that anymore. idk if anything will show up on tests but even if it doesn't i feel like the more correct diagnosis would be ME. my current gp thinks i have [seronegative] myasthenia gravis but gps can't order emgs so can't diagnose it), and recently have been having trouble breathing that seems like it's due to muscle weakness in my chest and follows the same patterns as my other muscle weakness.

my gp can't do anything to help (and referrals always get declined because the system is overwhelmed) and can only advise that i go to the hospital, been to one hospital who sent me home because my oxygen saturation was fine (even though from what i've read shortness of breath caused by muscle weakness doesn't show in oxygen saturation til it's Very Very bad, at the time i could only speak a couple syllables per breath and my peak flow was around half of what it usually is), i asked my gp what to do and he told me to try the further away hospital and explain that i haven't been able to get care at the closer one.

my mum is going to take me in a couple days (unless i really can't breath in the mean time obviously) and i'm nervous because i usually get dismissed, or they'll do a couple tests but not the ones that would actually show the conditions that i might actually have. i don't know how to advocate for myself without getting seen as overreacting, or get care for a chronic condition that has become urgent because usually if it's been happening for a while they'll say to just talk to ur gp but. my gp can't do anything.

(note: i know ur only supposed to go to the emergency room for things that are really urgent and the fact that i'm waiting a couple days might make it not urgent. my gp has said this is the best thing i can do though because there's literally no other avenue for me to get care and with my breathing the way it is i am even more restricted in what i can do than i have been before.)

oh god, i’m so sorry you’re in this position and am sending so much love to you. obligatory disclaimer that i’m not a medical professional, just Some Guy with a couple degrees, a girlfriend in medical school, and a whole lot of medical trauma.

that being said, my only advice is to lie. lie your ass off, lie like your life depends on it, most importantly lie in an informed fashion - which is easy in this case because you pretty much know what you have, you just need them to do the test you want. the doctor thinks they’re creating a clinical picture on a blank canvas and you need to give them a paint-by-numbers.

here are the factors i would consider and the narrative i would construct if i was in your position, but it’s your body, your experiences, and your care (or lack thereof), so all of this is just my opinion and your mileage absolutely may vary:

most importantly, make sure anyone with you in the ER is on the same page. a lot of doctors assume patients are lying by default because they suck, so if somebody contradicts you, you’re probably screwed. when my gf takes me to a doctor’s appointment, we have a “what are we lying to them about” meeting ahead of time. you know your mum best, so you probably know what approaches she would/wouldn’t be on board with, but i’d initiate that conversation like “i’m concerned this hospital might dismiss me like the other one did, so i’m planning to say XYZ to hopefully get them to take me more seriously” and not “Some Guy on tumblr told me to lie my ass off” lol

next, make your symptoms match the textbook. downside to this, i definitely recommend not bringing up ME/CFS because they can’t/won’t test for or treat it (i have a friend in the UK who almost certainly has ME/CFS and just got sent to even more physical therapy). here’s where it helps that your GP is pretty sure they know what you’ve got (whether you actually have that or not): research myasthenia gravis (i recommend continuing education sites geared towards clinicians), know what’s on that list, and (with some exceptions) say you have those symptoms. my personal strategy is three-tiered:

lies of creation: unless it’s something immediately life-threatening or something they can concretely disprove, say you have symptoms of your disease even if you don’t. ER doctors don’t give a shit if they can say you need to wait it out and go to a specialist, regardless of that being unrealistic and your symptoms being unlivable, so you need something urgent and serious. (my gf says “they might be worried if you’re having trouble swallowing. maybe.”) myasthenia gravis typically waxes and wanes, so even if you’re able to do something when they examine you, it would be totally realistic for you to not have been able to a couple of hours ago (eg, when you arrived to the ER). for example, i told the NHS i totally had a positive MRI in the US that i was having delays getting access to the records of, even though my MRI didn’t show a speck of inflammation, because at least that got me a couple months of flare medication while they confirmed and an NSAID when they decided i was in remission rather than literally nothing. obviously you can’t tell them you’re seropositive because they’ve unfortunately got that record, which means you’re already fighting an uphill battle, which leads to my favorite sub-category lie of creation: anything you’ve read or believe or know that works in your favor, your GP told you. memorize what percent of people with myasthenia gravis are seronegative - don’t lead with that, because doctors hate when people are educated about our conditions or know what’s wrong with us, but if they say “we won’t do an EMG because you can’t have myasthenia gravis because of your bloodwork,” then you can be like, “my GP said that’s pretty common, like, about X% of people don’t show up on the test, and they’re really convinced i have this.”

lies of exaggeration: increase frequency of symptoms, impact on your activities of daily living, rank on a scale. familiarize yourself with what the numbers on the pain scale generally mean in terms of ability, and elaborate - “my pain is at an 8, it’s really hard to XYZ.”

lies of omission: this ER doctor was an asshole and still would’ve fucked me over regardless, but the instant i said “yes” when he asked if i experienced acid reflux, he stopped listening to a single word i said. i was experiencing acid reflux, and i knew that symptom happened with IBD, celiac, and a host of other serious conditions, but he instantly decided that was all that was going on with me, tried to send me home with just an antacid during the worst pain of my life, and led to me experiencing malnutrition and all my hair falling out due to the severe delays in accessing care. my recommendation for “instant dismissal” (or worse, “instant institutionalization”) symptoms to omit are: acid reflux; menstrual cramps or really anything related to menstruation; anything they could dismiss as covid - if they try to dismiss your breathing issues as covid, say you’ve tested negative this week even if you haven’t had a test. if you’ve had covid and you’re certain it’s not in your chart (assume it’s in your chart if you’ve ever said it to a doctor), say you’ve never had covid. if they still try to say it’s covid, stress that this has been going on for years before covid; anything psychiatric.

so, what i would do:

“i have X, Y, and Z symptoms. my GP thinks i have myasthenia gravis and is working on referring me, and said to go to A&E if A, B, or C got worse. A, B, and C have [measurably gotten significantly worse since the last time you went to A&E] - i’m having trouble breathing, swallowing, and [other].” hope that they decide to do an EMG on their own.

if they try to send you home or try to do useless tests, say “my GP mentioned that i really need an EMG in order to get the treatment that would help me be able to breathe, swallow, [other]. will this test also do that?” (one of the instances where you strategically ‘play dumb’ because doctors hate when we know things)

if they still won’t do anything helpful, either you or your mum say: “i’ve/they’ve had these symptoms for five years and it’s never been remotely this bad. i/they seriously can’t breathe, swallow, [other] - how do we manage these symptoms before we can get to a specialist?” i’m white and, having been super professional/polite until then, this is the point where i start crying; you know your circumstances best and whether that will incur racism, etc, upon you from the medical system.

if they still want to send you home, i (again, being white) would at that point firmly request a second opinion. they still might send you home with nothing; i did all of this shit and received 50 pills of 50mg tramadol in addition to the antacid, and probably an angry note in my file, and not a millisecond of further testing.

i say this with love and from experience, in the interest of minimizing trauma and devastation: you need, to the best of your ability, to go to the emergency department with the expectation of receiving no care. i recommend a buddy, a reminder, and a reward: message a bitter crip or someone else who Gets It throughout the process and have support in place for if/when you get home with new medical neglect and trauma; remind yourself that your symptoms are real and serious and, in my gf’s words, “if your GP thinks you have myasthenia gravis, you almost definitely have something neuromuscular going on.” i like to make posters of my reminders (example here: link); do something that will make you feel better afterwards - my go-to is buying a new stuffed animal after experiencing medical trauma. i have a lot of them lol

for more advice on coping with medical neglect before and after appointments/visits, see my post here (link). if you don’t know anyone who’ll understand or be available and helpful to support you during your trip to A&E, feel free to dm me and i’d be happy to give you my WhatsApp. i wish you so much luck and you’ll be in my thoughts, i really hope it goes as well as possible - you deserve quality, compassionate, thorough care. if you’re comfortable with doing so and feeling up for it i’d really value an update afterwards 💓💓💓

[hopscotchandlemon]

Finding The Answer - Part One

Gibbs/Reader

Rating: Teen

TW: Mentions of death, bereavement

Part 1/4

A/N

This was the first NCIS fic I wrote back in May this year and posted on Ao3. 

You waited in the room as instructed, shifting uncomfortably in the corporate seating. You didn’t know if Gibbs was going to be able to help but he was the only person your Dad had trusted so he had become the only person you could trust too. You’d met Gibbs just the once and that had been at your father’s funeral 6 months ago. He had introduced himself to you and had chatted about your dad with kind words. Before he’d left he’d handed you his card and told you to call if you’d needed to. You were holding that card now as waited for him.

‘Hey (y/n),’ a familiar voice said.

You stood up and embraced him.

‘Hi Gibbs. Thank you for seeing me, I know you’re busy,’

Gibbs looked down at the card in your hands. ‘I meant what I said when I gave you that card. Anytime. Did you want to talk somewhere quiet?’ You nodded and followed him as he headed through the office to a room with a large table in. He gestured for you to take a seat and he sat next to you.

‘So what’s up?’ he asked.

You showed him the letters you’d received. The ones demanding money to not expose secrets about your dad. You’d dismissed the first one as a prank but then the second one had arrived and you’d taken them a little more seriously. You’d handled the letters as little as possible and kept them in a sandwich bag.

‘You been to the cops with these?’ Gibbs said, studying the letters.

‘Yep, they said it was probably a krank and given my dad is dead they didn’t think there was much they could do.’

‘Is there anything else you’ve noticed?’

‘A car parked outside my work sometimes. It’s not an employee car, I checked. Police said it was probably a coincidence.

‘Yeah I don’t like coincidences. Did you get a licence plate?’

‘That’s the thing Gibbs, it was a different plate everytime but I’m sure it was the same car.’ You say, handing Gibbs a list of the plates.

‘Anything at home?’

You shook your head. Gibbs looked at you for a little while.

‘You still living alone?’

‘Yeah. Still in dad’s old house. Not ready to say goodbye to it just yet.’ You say, spinning the card between your fingers.

‘Ok if I hold on to these letters? I’ll get our forensic scientist to see if she can find anything on them.’

‘Sure. So you don’t think I’m overreacting.’

‘Not sure you can overreact to being blackmailed. So no one has contacted you about collecting the money?’

‘No. That was another reason the cops gave for thinking it was a krank. Said there was no evidence they intended to collect the money. Still gives me the creeps through.’

‘You feel safe at home? Can you stay with anyone?’

‘I’m fine,’ you reply, brushing away any concern.

Gibbs stands up and you follow suit.

‘I’ll let you know what I find out. If anything else happens, no matter how small. I want you to call me.’

‘Thanks Gibbs. You know, when dad knew his time was nearly up he would reminisce about his days in the core. You were the only person he seemed to trust. Thank you for listening to me.’

‘He was a good man (y/n). And I trusted him too.

With that Gibbs escorts you to the door and you embrace before leaving ************************************************** Gibbs takes the letters straight to Abby’s lab.

‘Hey Gibbs, what ya got’ Abby asks as she roller blades over to Gibbs.

‘I need you to have a look at these letters, see if you can get anything from them.’

‘Oooh creepy!’ Abby states as she reads the letters before putting on a pair of gloves and getting to work.

************************************************** Despite having not seen the suspect car when you got to work, you were dismayed to see it there when you left at night with yet again a different licence plate. You text Gibbs to let him know the car was there and the latest licence plate it was riding with. He replied saying he’s take a look and to get yourself home.

Back at home you started to make yourself a salad and sat eating it watching an old cowboy movie. You were enjoying a glass of wine when there was a knock at the door. You cautiously get up to answer it. Looking through the spyhole you can’t see anything. Figuring it’s just kids, you get back to your sofa. After ten minutes there is another knock. Again you get up and still there is no one at the door. When it happens again you run to the door and fling it open. The car you keep seeing at work accelerates past. When you look down you see a package addressed to you. Your heart is bounding in your chest. You leave the parcel insitu and phone Gibbs.

[kth1]

Atmosphere [Namjoon x Reader]

Atmosphere [Namjoon x Reader] ⟶ Credits: @kimtaehyunq​ ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+ | Celebrity/Boyfriend AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: strong/mature theme, adult content, language, titty play, we remembered the condom this time, slight angst, slight dom elements, more fluff, a bit of overstimulation, soft and cute ending, etc ⟶ WC: 8.2k+ ⟶ Summary: Namjoon and you have been dating for a few years now, fully aware of the worries a relationship with a celebrity would be like. One night you spoke up, showing a bit of jealously after him coming back home from a promotional trip across seas. You didn’t mean to slip up, you didn’t want to taint the air with insecurities, but you lost your composure. Don’t worry, you guys figure it out. ⟶ Teaser: “Namjoon can read you like a book, knew exactly what to do when to do it. He fully enjoyed the way your body reacted to him, how simple of a task for him to pleasure you in this way. Your cries from pleasure giving him excitement that he was treating you the way you deserve.” ⟶ Author’s note: Finally, I didn’t write a story in first-person. I caught myself several times having to fix my context of wording, but I did it for you! I had this story in mind for a while, but it felt difficult to tie together. It came out softer, cuter than I anticipated. Please let me know for any grammar mistakes! Enjoy! 🐾

You ran into your bedroom and slammed the door behind you, locking it immediately. Namjoon’s footsteps were sounding nearer, quickly making their way towards the room. You slumped your body against the door, pushing your back up against it to create more of a barricade and prevent Joon from entering. He tried jiggling the doorknob, noting that it resisted the turn. Leaning up against the carved piece of mahogany wood that separated the both of you he spoke, “Babe?”

He groans, hearing silence from the other end but knowing you were obviously holding yourself captive inside the shared room. Your eyes were watery, hands in fists and completely vibrating with rage. You were livid, mad at every negative thought that crossed your mind and… more upset with yourself more than anything. You overreacted and didn’t know how to handle yourself.

“Y/n… Just open the door. Talk to me.” He sighed. Namjoon’s knuckles tapping at the door slowly, the sound echoing thought the silence between the two of you. The agonizing noise banging against the labored wood filling your eardrums. Tears slowly escaping the crease of your eyes, you sniffled as you plucked at pieces of the carpet below you.

“Baaaabe!” he repeated, drawing out the sound of the vowels. You can hear the annoyance in the tone of his voice, he was one to maintain his calm and collect himself well especially during intense situations. But he’s still human. There are times where he really can’t handle all the stress and he cracks.

“Joon, leave me alone!” you choked out, voice cracking. You couldn’t help your voice from shaking, the emotions packing into your body were too overwhelming for you to contain.

“Just open the door, please.” There was no light to his voice. Joon’s patience running terribly thin. He’s trying to confront the situation. Trying to figure out what got you so riled up and darting away from the kitchen table. Sharing a delicious meal between the two of you, was it something he said?

Water filled up the clear glass before you, swishing the three single ice cubes as the cup filled up with liquid. Namjoon’s soft features content as he placed the pitcher off to the side, out of the way of the rest of the silverware. You smiled, showing gratitude and nodding a quick ‘thank you’ with a subtle gesture.

“Thank you for making dinner, it looks great!” You beamed a grin to him. Scanning over at the plates in front, figuring out what portions and pieces you want to grab. Joon nodded, dimple creasing in the side of his face as he stares at you in adoration.

He’s been away for a few weeks, taking care of business and working hard. Attending events all over the world to promote his new album. He’s a solo artist, expressing his thoughts and feelings through lyrics and various tunes. Emotions tied to each word that overflowed each song and every song. You were proud of him, releasing his 4th mixtape tilted ‘No Atmosphere’.

He was a hard worker, so dedicated to projects and assignments. There’s nothing wrong with that at all, this is what he loves. What he was made to do. Such a wise, humble, and reliable soul he has. He takes responsibility very seriously – which is a blessing and a burden. Picky, he gets frustrated with himself, overthinking every little detail. He strives to please everyone around him, putting them first, always.

A series of topics spread over the course of your meal, filling each other up with what you’ve missed, sharing news and making plans for future dates. He expressed how much he enjoyed visiting Spain, London, Ireland. Quoting ‘I wish you were there to see this!’ as he scrolled through photos and videos he snapped on his endeavors.

Meanwhile, you were stuck there. In your shared two-story apartment. A place that was generously too large for just the two of you. And much too big for one single person while the other was gone for long trips, multiple times a year. You had your part-time work, your full-time classes for your master’s degree, a few social gatherings from your small friend group. But you always came home to an empty apartment when Joon was gone.

“Hey Joon?” you disrupted his rant. One he didn’t realize he trailed on and on, boasting about how happy he was when visiting a party that honored his album.

He blinked, losing his train of thought and focused his eyes on yours. A soft smile curving up on his lips from hearing your light voice. “Hmm?”

What he didn’t notice was how you stopped eating the food, fiddling with your fork against your plate as you used one of the prongs to kick a small pea around. Scraps of leftovers and uneaten pieces still lay across your plate and you hesitantly spoke up, “What happened back in London?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows raised in worry, his eyes curious and confused at what you were asking. “What about London? I did a lot there?” You could tell Joon went into deep thought, retracing everything he had already mentioned to you and seeing if he possibly forgot anything.

I did a lot there. You shook your head trying to remove that sentence. But it played over and over, like a broken record. Shouldn’t he phrase that answer differently, you thought. Of course, it rolled off his tongue in innocence, but it held weight on to your chest. Your mind circled that sentence because you kept remembering something you had seen, something that was exposed on the internet.

“There was a video, Joon.” You mumbled under your breath, placing the fork down on top of the napkin.

This wasn’t the place to confront Namjoon, not after him prepping this dinner for you. Not when you finally had relaxing time ever since he came back from his promotion trip. Countless interviews and media articles which talked the anticipation of the album. You kept up to date with most of them, following him as he remained contact with you through your personal phones. Confrontation during this time shouldn’t been optimal, but you muttered the sentence. Your curiosity perked up – and there’s no way of brushing it off now.

You assumed Namjoon knew exactly what you were referencing by the way his face slightly dropped. A video. That video. From a bystander from the album release party… seeking social attention, posting a damn video about the continuously rising artist in attempt to cause disturbance and tainting his image. A fucking video that was pixelated, rendered, a copy of a copy, uploaded on twitter; showing what seems to be Namjoon being close, being in an ‘intimate embrace’ with another female. A female that was not you.

It was blurry, the video couldn’t hold much value to the normal eye because it was difficult to make out faces. But anyone with an expert eye, anyone that knew Namjoon, or was a big fan of him, knew that was him in the video. The slicked back hairstyle, the long dark coat that should be considered as a cloak draping over his body, the mask held over his chin and hooked over each ear. Blurry or not, you knew the figure in the video all too well.  

“Y/n, it’s not what it looks like.”

“They wrote a lot of stories about that video.” You scoffed. You don’t believe Namjoon would be unfaithful at all, you knew him to be extremely loyal. A lot of stories indeed. And guess what, you read every single one of them. Each wrenching your heart just a bit more, coming up more and more theories inside your head. You swallowed down the tang, the hurtful stories, holding them in the pit of your stomach until you completely word vomit all over Joon. Spilling your insecure thoughts.

“What is it then?”

Joon copied your action, placing his fork down and now reaching across the table to grab your hand. You removed it fast, Joon grabbing at the ghost of your palm as you start to shy yourself away. Staring at him as he let go a sigh.

“It’s nothing. It was taken at an angle –“

“Nothing?!” Your eyebrows shot up, gulping down the buildup of saliva that horded in your mouth. “That ‘nothing’ seemed pretty comfortable to you by the looks of it.” Your snarky remark officially ripped open a wave of hostility between the both of you.

“She was the party director!” He raised his voice in defense, baffled that you two were even having this conversation in the first place. Stunned that you didn’t bring it up earlier. “She scooted closer to me in a group photo – I’m sure you’ve seen the photo online.”

“The video was after the picture was taken, Joon!”

“I didn’t do anything, Y/n. Nothing happened before or after that. Her arm was around me. She was on me. Not the other way around.”

Namjoon sounded more dismissive now. It was clear he was getting fed up with the subject, doesn’t believe he has to prove his clean hands to you. Because he’s done everything for you, you were his girlfriend. His love.

Now – you sit here against the bedroom door. Holding back as many tears as possible as Namjoon desperately tried to enter. The emptied and unoccupied space between you two caused unnerving feelings for you. You got worried, it wasn’t your intention but for some reason you really felt that pang of hurtfulness when you came to the realization that Namjoon could have someone better.

“Y/n!” He shouted.

“You’re mad at me…” You whispered to yourself. How dare you bring something so silly up at the table. Ruining a great meal, the one he planned and set up, you ruined it with your insecurities. You were curious, but the curiosity shot you back in the face. Coming off more anxious and fearful, questioning the loyalty of your boyfriend. You were upset with yourself more than anything. Letting stupid rumored scandals corrupt your mind.

He knocked again. You, being aggravated and worked up at his constant need to get you to open up, hit back at the door in frustration. A sob leaving your mouth.

A loud thump nailed into the other side of the wood you were leaning against, Joon kicking at it and proceeded to yell, “Why are you crying?! Open the fucking door Y/n!”

He sounded scary, something you weren’t used to coming from him. Picturing him with clenched teeth, fists with white knuckles, eyebrows furrowed together. Again, he kicked at the door. The shutter sound making you crawl away from the frame, “Unlock it now!” he spat out.

“Joon, stop! You’re freaking me out,” your breath hitching once the pounding stopped. Silence filling the void of the air. Standing up with trembling hands, taking a slow step towards the door. Joon rested his head against it, hand still around the knob. Exhaling he responded, “Please.”

Your hand froze over the lock, pinching it between your two digits. You gathered yourself together, mustered up the courage to twist the metal piece. Right away Namjoon turned the knob and pushed the door in, forcing you to take a few steps back into your room.

Holding your arms to yourself your head fell, looking at the ground. Namjoon walked up, closing the space between the two of you and wrapped his arms around your body, tight. Taking you in his embrace. Your arms remained crossed, trying to wiggle around in his arms to break free.

“Stop, Y/n.” Namjoon grabbed your head and shoved it against his chest. His hold too sturdy to break away from. He noted that your breathing was erratic, unstable. He was bothered, the conversation struck a nerve but also disturbed you.

Your tears flowed, dripping down your cheeks. “You’re mad at me,” you muffled into his chest. Namjoon swayed back and forth with you in his hold, trying to calm you down. Shushing you and rubbing his large hands on your back. Putting your face into your hands, you cried realizing that what you said, what you were accusing under hidden messages, was a mistake.

“I’m not mad, Y/n. I’m concerned.”

“What are you talking about? You are mad!” You prosecuted Namjoon, hysterical. “You were shouting! You hit the door!” You screamed out, sniffling into your hands.

Joon shuffled the both of you back to the bed, helping you sit down on the edge and he took his place besides you. He stared at your beating red face as he took his thumb and wiped away the stained trails that seeped from the brims of your eyes. “Breathe for a second.”

You leaned your head back and avoided eye contact. Your breathing did calm down after giving yourself time, feeling the warmth of Namjoon’s palm that rested on your cheek. His eyes darted back and forth with yours, pleading to be looked at and trying to read your thoughts from the mannerisms that played across your face.

“I’m just jealous.” Your hands found their way back across your body, acting as a shield, protecting yourself from anymore harm. But the harm you were receiving was from deep within your body. An overbearing ache in your chest.

Namjoon tilted his head after your statement, as if he didn’t understand. He weaved his eyebrows together, frustrated at the thoughts he drew up in his mind. “What? Jealous of what?”

“You go around everywhere. You get to meet and partake in actions with a lot of people… girls… very pretty girls. All these women saying they’re going out with you, or you have models cooing over you.” You continued to rant on. All those rumors and gossip getting to you. Even though Namjoon gave you continuous attention regardless of where he was in the world, you somehow manage to believe in the filthy tabloids.

Joon closed his eyes at your nonsense and shook his head. “Shut up!” He covered your mouth with a quick kiss. A comforting warm kiss, one you craved for after a long day with your nose in the books, hours spent at the part-time job. A greeting kiss, but it was more than just a greeting to you. It welcomed you to another side of Joon. A sensitive side that you only get to see because… well, you’re his girlfriend. You’re special to him.

He slowly pulled away and caught your gaze, “I’m just an ordinary guy, Y/n, nothing is going to change that. Nobody is going to make me different from who I already am. I love you. I don’t love them.” His hand held your chin up to make sure you stayed in view. “I have you and I’m happy with that. Why can’t you see that?”

Doubts portrayed in your thoughts for a few moments. Thinking that he’s just saying these things to make you feel better. Your mind was so clouded with these dirty lies, that you felt self-conscious about yourself. Were you even good enough for Kim Namjoon?

“I-I’m sorry” snuck out of your mouth.

“No. I’m sorry.”

You gave Joon a puzzled look, why is he saying he’s sorry? He wasn’t in the wrong.

“If I was giving you the proper treatment of what a boyfriend should do, you wouldn’t feel this way. Right here, right now.” He leaned in once again and kissed you softly. Hands outlining your face. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him across you and onto the bed. The kiss deepened and his tongue glazed over your slightly parted lips.

“You shouldn’t be sorry at all.” You whispered against his lips, heated breath fanning across his flesh. “You do plenty for me, you’re really generous to me Namjoon. And… I’m so sorry for doubting you for a second.”

Of course, you had an idea of what it’d be like to date someone famous. He’d be much busier than a typical boyfriend, he’d travel further, and gone for periods of time. You were well aware of this, and for a good amount of time it really didn’t bother you. Namjoon always felt like he was holding you back, but he loves you too much to let you go. Far too many conversations like this have come up in the past between the two of you. Between the ‘talking’ stages to the ‘dating’ stages, and now officially together, you two have chatted about the toll of a full on relationship may cost.

But this didn’t stop either of you. Even when you tried taking things slow, seeing how things felt and figuring out if you were suited for this sort of lifestyle, you two gradually connected back to another. Namjoon couldn’t stay away from you for too long, and you were always welcoming him back with open arms. He was loyal to you. You understood him the most and when there were times he couldn’t express himself properly, you were there to help.

Laying down, Joon rested his head on your shoulder and wrapped an arm around your stomach lazily. One of your hands mindlessly toyed around with the strands of his hair as the other found place over his forearm.

“I understand why you felt the way you did; I really do.” He spoke in a sotto voce. “Y/n, I get curious too.”

Joon was referencing that he, himself, thinks about the possibilities of you being influenced by other men. Especially if he’s away, he puts all trust into you, but it doesn’t stop his overthinking mind to wonder. Maybe he wasn’t good enough for you, maybe he was holding you back. He was afraid of tying you down if you weren’t happy with the situation you were in. Namjoon always swallowed his negative thoughts, dismissing them because he rather focus on the future and being happy.

Your grip tightened around him, not knowing what to really say back to him. Feeling guilty in more than one way now. “Joon –“

“I love you, Y/n.”

He remained resting his head on your shoulder with his eyes closed. He casted a soothing and calm aura with how relaxed he became. He doesn’t like a hostile environment and the tiniest of squabbles are typically unnecessary and overreacted. He preferred to just talk it out, communicate with another to know what is really going on.

You kissed the top of his head, sniffing his hair and intaking a fresh vanilla scent. The wisps of hair folding under your fingers as you slightly groomed him. “I love you too, Joon. I really am sorry.”

Joon was happy having you, honestly. You gave him energy, satisfaction and your undivided attention. He never expected you to be as good to him that you already were. He couldn’t ask for more from you, he’s already taking up so much of your commitments and he tries hard to always make it up. Dinners, dates, cute surprise visits, facetime and random texts in the middle of the day when he’s thinking about you. He knew effort and communication were strong keys to hold the two of you together and he always tried his hardest to maintain these.

Again, you had a strong idea on how your relationship with Joon would be like. And you accepted it. You want it because you want him, and that was enough for you to say yes to him after the seventh date together at the aquarium two summers ago. His hands were in the touch tanks, searching around for cute little critters and lightly petting against their various skins. Spotting some fascinating crabs and he described to you how you reminded him of them.

It was playful, he was joking around trying to get you to smile even more that day. But the best thing about that day was when he turned to you, with salted wet hands from the tank he grabbed yours in return and stared deeply into your eyes. Asking if you’d like to take the relationship in seriousness, wanting to be official. At that moment you could care less that your hand was drenched with cold water, you only cared about the tall, handsome man that was holding that hand.

You were content, laying with Joon on your shared bed. Feeling enveloped with love and adoration. Suddenly he leaned up, hobbling himself over you and pecked your nose. He had a spark in his eye, something he tucked away in his mind but now lit up momentarily. He smiled down at you, listening to you giggle, “What?” you questioned.

“Hold on, I have to grab something. Wait right here.” He pointed at you with a finger, warning you to stay put. His grin had a hint of mischievous humor behind it as he got up off the bed, walking out the room and down the stairs towards the kitchen area. You can hear Namjoon rummaging through bags, drawers, you name it. You thought to yourself, what is he even doing out there?

“Joonie?” Your voice rang out loud enough to stretch the area of the house. You sat up, looking around the room but your hearing zoned in on the muffled sounds that were coming from downstairs.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” he vocalized with a honeyed tone.

You can hear the patter of his feet, trailing up the steps and patting back into the bedroom. He smiled fondly at you as he entered, walking back over and sitting besides you. He claimed that he was grabbing something, but you didn’t recognize anything being carried in when he returned. You were perplexed to say the least as your eyes searched around.

Namjoon noticed your gaze that scanned in all directions, amusing him on how easily curious you were. His dimple shining bright he raised an eyebrow, “Lookin’ for something?”

Slightly offended, because that question had an obvious answer to it, and you didn’t understand what was going on. You cocked your head to the side, quirking a frown, “Well yeah, you said you were grabbing something?”

He smirked, holding your hand in his as his other hand shoved into his pocket to pull out a Prussian blue box, handing it over to you. He nodded, edging you to open the top.

You swore right then and there your heart stopped beating. You thought your holy spirit drained your body and elevated up to the heavens at the sight of this small thinned cardboard box. Completely unaware of what the contents that lay within it, but your mind went racing straight to one thing. Holy shit, holy shit. This can’t be happening? Like this? It’s so sudden and random? This didn’t feel right.

Your eyebrows raised practically to your hairline, eyes wide and mouth frozen. You hesitantly held the box between your digits, glancing up at Namjoon with a tiny bit of unsettlement in your eyes. You felt your heart in your throat, pounding loudly over the nerves that coursed in your skin.

“Open it.”

The saliva that accumulated in your mouth was swallowed thickly with a gulp, flipping over the lid to the box and seeing a shiny silver object inside. It took you seconds to register the thingamajig, observing that it was some sort of flat, circled charm that had your name, address, and number engraved onto it. You were processing the information in your mind, a small sigh of relief exhaled through your nostrils that it wasn’t something extreme like a ring or anything.

“A… tag?”

“Mhm! I was going to give it to you after dinner, but we never finished our meal.” He chimed in with a playful banter.

“Why a tag?” The gift was random and completely out of the blue. But the gift itself was even more unusual than expected. Not once in your life has someone gifted you a tag with your contact information on it, were you supposed to wear this around a necklace, a keychain perhaps?

Joon takes the charm with the pads of two of his fingers, flipping it over to the other side. “So you can fill out this side with its name!”

Then… it clicked. Oh my. A tag. A dog tag. You two were getting a dog?! You gasped; emotions ran ecstatic through you as you jumped up with joy. “A dog?!”

Delighted that he brought jubilation to you, he stood up holding your arms to help you stop springing off the floor. He chuckled, “Yes! I figured you needed someone to keep you company during the times that I’m not here for you. I know how much you love animals too, so I wanted to ask if you’d like to get one.”

You locked lips with Joon. Throwing your arms around his neck, dropping the box in the process, and pulled him closer to your body. Eagerness racing through your muscles as you leaped yourself off the floor and linking your legs around his waist. He caught you under your thighs, laughing into the kiss as he brought you back to the bed.

He cradled your body, supporting himself on top of you has you leaned back down on the fabric below. Running your hands up and down his arms, he deepened the kiss. Both of you captivated with another and riveting another’s attention to a now quickly heated session.

You tugged on his bottom lip that was more dominate than the top, grazing your teeth on the tinted pink flesh. He inhaled sharply, feeling his heartbeat fasten as his body anticipates upcoming actions. And yours did the same. Namjoon was tender handling you, a more amorous side taking over his persona.

His smooth chap-stick covered lips butterflied across your dried-up cheeks. Stamping warm kisses to your flesh as he trailed down to your jaw and peppering along the column of your neck. This wasn’t some sort of hot n’ heavy, steamy romantic session. He was gentle, he took his time, he was intimate with you. You can feel it in the air, in your bones and most importantly you felt it in your swelling heart.

It was sweet, the warmhearted feeling that took over your body because of Namjoon. Hushed giggles and bashful laughter crowded the room. A fun-loving atmosphere. And you were completely smitten by it all.

“May I take this off?” Hands curled around the material of your shirt slightly lifting it up to the underside of your breasts. Rubbing his thumbs along the bare skin below your bra.

Biting down on your bottom lip, you flashed an excited smile in reply, “As long as I can take yours off.”

Joon looked smug, lifting your shirt up and off your torso. He went to lean down to connect his lips back onto your skin, but you caught him before he could fully commit. Yanking his shirt high up his chest until you couldn’t hoist it any further since his arms where in the way. He laughed at your antic, how cute it was and enthusiastic you were. But he obliged and lifted his arms up for you.

There was no time to waste, Joon sloped back down on you. Pecking his plump lips on your collarbone and down towards the valley between your boobs. Feeling how soft your skin was, lightly nibbling at it. You hummed through your nose, arching your back into Joon’s face, urging him to continue.

One of his manly hands cuffed your left breast as his mouth connected to your right, open mouth kisses and softly sucking at it. You released a tiny moan, enjoying the sensation that was being stimulated on your breasts.

And boy, you were so sensitive on your boobs. Especially when he toyed with your nipples, moistening them up with his mouth and rolling the buds between his fingers. It wired you, Namjoon played with you like an etch-a-sketch. It feels fantastic. Waves of goosebumps cycling across your skin as he continued running his tongue across your aroused nipples, making sure to give the other boob the same attention. You mewed for him; the blush drawn on your upper cheeks as your body grew hotter under his touches.

He reached behind you with a hand, unclasping the hook of the bra and allowing the fabric to relieve your delicate girls. Turning you on was Joon’s pleasure, he cared about pleasing you more than being pleased. He could spend all day groping your tits if that means you’ll be satisfied.

You were easily wet; the games Joon played with your boobs sparking your nerves and arousal. Prepping your body for more, aching for more of his gentle touch.

Daringly you reached your hand between the two of you, palming at whatever you made contact with until you found a stiffening bulged that stuck out with the fabric of his pants. You can feel the warmth radiating through his region, heated up and you knew very well he wants to reintroduce his member to you.

“Joon – take off your pants.” You ordered in a hushed tone. Squeezing at his dick. “My body really wants you right now.”

As your sweet voice compelled his ears, he listened. Shuffling his pants off with a smirk and a light shake of his head. “I wanted to touch you a bit more.” Giving you a small pout.

“Aww.” You smiled, seeing the little kid of him. “You can touch me with this big boy instead.” You tried sounding a bit sexy, almost kitten-like as you eyed his member.

Willingly you unbuttoned your own jeans, tugging them down your thighs and letting Joon help you with the rest. His fingers ran up to your undies that remained on your frame, seeing the cute little ocean doodled pattern on them with a dampened and darker spot that was clung to the outline of your lady-lips. He was turned on and completely in awe of how cute you are.

“Why do you do this to me?” he laughed, feeling happy with you and hooking his fingers around the thin waistband of your undies. Towing them down your legs with a fit of giggles.

You blushed; a bit embarrassed at your attire but not even self-conscious being completely nude in front of him. “I don’t know – I just thought they were cute!” You retorted back fast.

“They are cute. You’re even cuter for wearing them.” He chirped.

Namjoon swooped back down, placing his hand over your mound and letting a finger dip in between your folds. Sliding your natural lubrication all over he glided it over your clit, making you moan in the process. Your hands found their way into his hair, fluffing it up even more while Joon teased at your entrance.

“Your body really does want me, huh? I don’t think I even need to use my fingers.”

Nodding, you bucked your hips up chasing his floating fingers. Wishing he’d do something more with them than just shifting between all your lady bits. “Let me get a condom.”

You reached over to the bedside table, pulling out a drawer to frantically search for the magical package that contained the secure rubber. Swiftly you ripped it open, offering to help apply it along his length. You pinched the tip of the latex, rolling the rest down his long shaft and giving his dick a few teasing tugs.

Joon groaned at your touch, flexing his dick in the process of your pumps. He was more than ready to take you in, ready to share the closeness with you once again.

With that, Joon pushed you back down on the bed. Lifting one of your legs over his hip as he centered himself at your core. Your slick allowing him to slide between your folds effortlessly as he prodded his tip in your hole.

You held your breath, anticipating Joon to fill you up all the way to the hilt. You want to feel him inside you, widening your walls and your body vibrating around him. He locked eyes with you, smiling as he leaned down to plant another kiss on your lips. In sync he inched himself further into you, a grunt escaping his chest as you disconnected yourself from the kiss to breathe. You tossed your head to the side, latched your hands around his shoulders as Joon set a pace with his thrusts.

Your body missed Joon so much, you didn’t even have control over how your cunt clenched tightly around his dick. Your walls compressed in a series of movements; your cunt thirsty for him. Breathy gasps leaving your mouth once Namjoon whispers to the skin between your neck, “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this. Ah – Y/n, you’re so wet.”

Earlier you felt a deep ache within your chest from the persistent pain of worry and hurt. But now, all of that washed over. You feel something deep, but not from pain. Not from the obvious penetration from Joon’s lengthy cock kissing the doorway of your cervix. You feel deep feelings, words and actions not able to compare to the affection and fondness between the two of you.

You felt warm, completely at ease even though you’re sweating, catching your breath, sensitive nerves awakening to the sexual stimulation between your legs. A heavy body on top of you, pounding his dick into your sweet succulent juices. His hips banging into you, his head stuck in the crane of your neck.

This warm feeling overruled all physical activities and all auditable sounds. But what it couldn’t stop was the twisting of your lower abdomen muscles, the stiffening of your walls and tense grip over Joon’s shoulders. Your body reacting on its own agenda. Your throat feeling dry from the open mouth breathing, you tried speaking but only moans were formed.

Namjoon can read you like a book, knew exactly what to do when to do it. He fully enjoyed the way your body reacted to him, how simple of a task for him to pleasure you in this way. Your cries from pleasure giving him excitement that he was treating you the way you deserve.

“Joon I’m – I’m close!” you panted, feeling that orgasm rolling closer and closer to a release.

As much as both Joon and you wanted you to spasm all around him, he stalled it. Delaying you from the contractions of your pelvic muscles that would send electrifying waves all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. He stopped all actions, halting himself deep inside you and slowly rocked his hips to continue a small force of friction between the two of you.

Your body was frustrated, your cunt was soaked, and you were vexed. “Joonie?” you whined out, bucking your hips up into him. Feeling that build up in the pit of your stomach slowly fade away.

Joon leaned up, kissing your cheek. He hummed to himself, satisfied with the state the both of you were in. “I would love to stay like this forever. Do you feel this?”

Do you feel this, Y/n? The sensation filling the room, the air, your heart. The thrill that frenzied in your veins and muscles. Flushed, excited, ecstatic, blissed out of your mind. The feeling Joon raptures you with, sending your body to a state of euphoria. It was wild. You didn’t feel normal, but it was the best feeling you could ever experience with another. And this is what Namjoon wanted to continuously feel.

Without notice, tears fell from your eyes as you nodded to his statement. You weren’t sad or upset, but in complete awe over Joon. How could someone be this perfectly imperfect? How could someone be so sweet for you. And you still question yourself if you were even good enough for Kim Namjoon.

He whipped away the tears that shed onto your skin, hushing you. “You don’t need to cry, Y/n. Believe me, I already know the way you feel.” Because… he feels it too.

With the little room you were given, you wrapped your arms around Joon as much as possible. He smiled down at you, returning the hug and rolling the two of you over with him still pivoted inside. You now lay above him, peering down into his eyes you went to speak. The movement of your body caused your pelvis to rub against his, squishing your swollen clit against him and bursting a shriek out of your mouth when you snapped back into reality.

The heightened arousal between your legs was still on edge and ready to burst. Joon bit down on his bottom lip once he felt your pussy clench around him. The experience between the both of you was riveting but was soon going to vanish because of the greediness your bodies had. Your mouth dropped open, “I love you” spilled out without wavering.

Namjoon’s hands rested on your sides, holding your waist as you slowly grinded yourself against him. Allowing his dick to swirl inside of you while your sensitive bud rubbed against his pelvic bone. You couldn’t help yourself; your body had a mind of its own when it rushed itself back up the stairs to orgasm. And you got there, fast.

Your body jerked; your hands planted on Joon’s chest to hold yourself upright as you released yourself all over him. Unfolding all the pent-up energy and feelings. Your hair cascaded over your face with labored breathing, groans ascending out of your mouth. “Joon, I – I, I going to – Joon – Ahh!” you squeaked out once the second wave coursed through your cunt, expanding a pulsating vibration through your body.

“So beautiful. Fuck – Y/n, you’re so damn beautiful!” Joon watched every second of you coming undone on him, seeing how you squirmed around him, using his body for your own pleasure, moaning his name. In a selfish way, Namjoon felt fulfillment seeing you like this – all displayed for him to treasure and praise. It turned him on, hearing your voice singing into his ears as he jutted himself up further into your moisten cunt. Over stimulating your nether region, he was determined to make you go one last time before he spills into the condom.

You’re barely holding yourself up straight, hunched over with your palms placed on his torso. Sweat formed along your hairline and between the contact of your skin with his. The mixture of your sweet n’ salty juices shining along your lady-lips and Joon’s cock. Before you could call out his name in another breathless voice, he has your mounds in each of his hands, squeezing them tight and pinching at your perked nipples.

You gripped at his wrists, letting out a shocked plea for him to stop because the sensation was so good that you couldn’t handle it. “Joon!”, you choked out, gasping for air as you tried to lift your body off his. He refused.

He flipped you back over, Joon locking your hands above your head with one hand around your wrists. He didn’t care for the mess on the bed, the tossed pillows and taunted comforter beneath the two of you. Your attempt of wiggling out of his grasp was a failure after he pinned you down with his body. Dick hovering over your delicate pussy.

“One more time, for me.” His voice was stern and serious while he murmured into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“I – I can’t!” Your chest heaved erratically, feeling your legs already shake and stomach contracting from the multiple orgasms you’ve already encountered. You felt weak.

“You will, love.”

Your request was again, hushed. Namjoon tilting his hips for his dick to dip back into your entrance, he placed kisses on the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched, throwing your head back into the bed, feeling Joon slam himself deep inside you, causing your nerves to shudder.

You struggled for air, body completely trembling uncontrollably as you cried out for Namjoon. You swore your vision went blurry while you received this mind-blowing orgasm. Joon held onto you tight, allowing you to ride out your high. Slowly pulling himself out of you once he knew you were finished.

Namjoon and you laid close to another, exhausted from the physical activity and especially from the toll your body took. Your eyes shut, not able to lift your body off the bed. Joon smirked, giving you another peck on the cheek before leaning up to discard the used condom, knotting it and tossing it in the trash bin. “You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

You laughed, shaking your head to yourself. “I heard you the first time, Joon.”

“I know.” He chuckled, laying back down and wrapping his arm back around you. “I mean it every time.”

You hummed in response. Tracing sluggish patterns on his forearm with your index finger. You slowly drifted further into your tiredness. “We’re still getting a dog, right?” You drowsily asked.

You felt a soft pair of warm lips contact your forehead; the sensation was comforting. “Of course, babe.”

About a week later you were staring out the window, watching the scenic views pass by. Acres of landscape in the countryside took up the area. The environment felt fresh and calm. Much different from the inner-city area with nonstop traffic and busy streets. You turned your gaze at Namjoon who was driving the car, his eyes remained on the dirt road ahead, but he could sense your stare.

As if he knew what you were thinking, he spoke up “Almost Y/n, the farm is about 2 miles up.”

You smirked to yourself, looking down at the palm of your hand that held the shiny silver dog tag. You fiddled with the metal, twisting the item back and forth between your digits. Anticipating the new addition to the house, a furry companion, hopefully the cutest puppy in the world.

The two of you slowly pulled up an extended driveway, parking in front of an old tiny brown snug farmhouse. A large red barn hidden behind the home, attached was a large fence that enclosed a few goats and pigs. A pack of stray chickens roaming around the grounds. Shutting the car doors, the smell of the plantation entered your nostrils, “Definitely a farm.”

You were greeted by an elder couple, warm smiles dressing their wrinkly faces. They were dressed as if they were in the middle of housework, tall muk boots, overalls and plaid shirts. “Hello there! You’re here for one of the pups?”

Joon reached out to lace his hand with yours, walking over towards the sweet couple. Charming and innocent eyes beamed back at you two. “Hey there! I’m Namjoon, and this is Y/n! We spoke over the phone!” Joon perked up, pulling you along with his strides.

The older couple waved Joon and you on, walking the both of you towards the barn in the back. Having small talk in between the short distance, hearing cute comments about the various animals you passed on the way.

“That’s Molly over there, Mama of the litter.” The older man pointed out a dog laying down in the pasture, her coat was a dark golden tone and it shined in the sunlight. She was watching over at your area, observing the new persons that entered her home. She sniffed the air as the breeze picked up, letting her head lay back down on the ground, but her eyes never left yours.

A loud creaking sound snapped your head towards the barn, watching the woman open up the doors wide for you to enter. Joon and you followed in after the couple, stopping short at a stall on the left. You heard little yips and yaps from the other side of the wall that fenced in the young pups.

You peaked over the edge, instantly widening your eyes when you see six little furry golden retriever puppies playing around with another. All varying in different shades of gold and creams. Your excitement caused you to clutch Joon’s hand tight.

“Oh my god! They’re so cute!”

“You want to go inside? Sometimes it’s easier for you to choose once you spend some time with them.” The older gentleman gestured, unlocking the latch to the wooden door and popping it slightly open, making sure he doesn’t allow any of the pups escape the corridor.

You glanced at Joon quickly, getting reassurance from him before eagerly nodding your head and walking into the pit. Immediately you fell to your knees, allowing any of the puppies to come running on over and jumping up on you. Their fur was so soft, angel-like and had that sweet puppy smell to them. You giggled with the six rambunctious babies. Grabbing a few chew toys and loose rope to play around with. You were happy, completely lucky to be blessed with these cute little ones in front of you.

You took your time with each of the pups, feeling out which one would be yours. Of course, you were tickled pink with glee, and wanted each of them. You joked with Joon briefly, giving him puppy-dog eyes and asked him if you could adopt them all. But unfortunately, you could only choose one. You were so indulged with playing with the puppies you didn’t realize how much time you spent with them. It’s been over twenty minutes before you heard a voice directed towards you.

“Did you find a new friend?” Joon spoke softly towards you. He leaned over the gate, smiling down at how cute you looked with a pile of puppies flooding your space. But he noticed that there was one puppy curled up in your lap, tuckered out and resting itself.

You looked up at Joon, trying to hold back your smile. “I think one found me!”

Then it was decided. The small, dark golden fur ball that laid across your thighs was going to be the newest addition to your world. You exited the stall, carefully holding the puppy in your arms. Joon giving it a small pet on its head before turning back to the cute elders.

“Thank you so much, you were so kind to us. Thank you for allowing us to adopt.” He flashed a smile to them. You thanked them as well, nodding your appreciation while trying not to disturb the sleeping pup.

Joon handed you the keys to head back to the car as he fished through his back pocket for his wallet to pay the man. You walked through the frame of the barn, turning your head back to the older dog named Molly. There was a slight ache in your heart, feeling bad that you were taking away one of her babies. Your smiled towards the animal, thinking that it would settle the upsetting feeling inside your chest.

“Excuse me, Miss?” A deep modulated voice, coming from what seemed to be the elder man, rang through your ears.

Questionably, you turned on your heels, facing back towards the inside of the barn. But you were caught completely off guard when there was a body before you. Down on one knee, with a box raised up between his hand, Namjoon smiled up at you. The black velvet box cracked open, flashing a sparkly stone.

“Y/n.”

You froze, feelings swelling your heart up. You felt your heartbeat in your throat when your jaw dropped. If it wasn’t for the exhausted puppy in your arms you’d probably fall straight down to the floor. This is happening. Holy shit.

Namjoon cleared his throat, realizing he has your full attention. “Y/n… words, actions, even music, cannot express the feelings I have for you. The amount of love I have towards you is unexplainable. I want you to know that I appreciate every waking moment with you, from the very first day you entered my life. Thank you for always being there, for always making me happier, for supporting everything. You are the greatest woman I know, and selfishly I wish to ask you for your hand in marriage because I want you all to myself for the rest of my life.” He spoke confidently, glistening in his eyes he smiled with each word that he admitted.

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

Tears fell down your cheeks, your eyes flickering back and forth between Joon and the ring that was bestowed in front of you. Your hand came up to your mouth as your sobbed out loud, shaking your head in reply.

“Yes! – Yes, oh my god yes I will!” You choked on your words, but they were clear enough for Joon to hear.

You rushed yourself towards Joon, wanting to hold him. Joon catches you by your arms, not allowing you to crash yourself into him because of the puppy that you were holding. He held you around your back, pecking your cheek as he held your hand still as he linked the jewelry to your ring-finger. He snuggled against your head while he back hugged you tightly. The puppy, now fully awake from all the commotion, was wiggling around and licking at your crying face.

You heard camera clicks, the sound alerting you to look up at the older couple who each were recording and snapping photos of the scene in front of them. You smiled, half embarrassed but also filled with joy.

Sniffling, your eyes met Joon’s, “You paid them for this?”

“I had offered, but they said that a time like this is priceless.”

One last picture was taken of a smiling newly engaged couple with a brand-new puppy in their arms.

© All rights reserved under @kimtaehyunq​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This tumblr is the ONLY place my fics are posted.

[zynart]

stop complaining about sjws and get a little empathy

Here’s my hot take: people dismissing social justice folks for being angry need to get some empathy

This might sound harsh but don’t get defensive and stick with me. If you value calm and civility and reasoned debate, you can live with that

The thing is, it’s understandable to be angry or even overreact sometimes when society’s constantly shit to you.

Being able to either be unaffected by an issue, or have the fortitude to be calm no matter how much it upsets you, shouldn’t be a prerequisite for your thoughts to be valid. If anything, shouldn’t it be the other way around: if “SJWs” are angry, why not try to understand what about society is that upsetting for a given person? Why not try to understand why they might be angry?

Why not have approach it with generosity, thinking of them as people as fully human as you are, as people who collectively have similar human thresholds for bearing suffering or injustice, who rightly have anxieties and fears and resentments about the state of the world?

Why not think of them as people who deserve the same respect and empathy, where we don’t demand that every single one stay perfectly calm and be perfectly informed and study up on the details and have the rhetorical fluency to be on fair playing ground against some 36-year-old conservative doing tours on campus

Why not listen—in good faith, with a fair representation of their concerns, instead of Weissian strawmen or cherry-picked examples—to the angry, period?

If you’re actually trying to understand a social phenomenon, and not just nursing some generational resentment about how the kids these days listen to too much rap music, or bitterness at the idea of being challenged, or if you’re not just making a public spectacle of your own process of resolving the cognitive dissonance between your view of yourself as a brilliant defender of liberal and updated social norms—which I honestly realize can be a psychologically distressing experience, with how much a central thesis of this file may be that so much of the dysfunction of Online is that we’re all flawed human beings lashing out at each other over our discomfort with resolving cognitive dissonances, which I can see particularly stings if you’re thin-skinned and take it very personally—where you’re taking the idea that you may be less relevant or valuable or correct as ideas march on, or just opposed to change, or even just in deliberate bad-faith instead of self-deluding bad-faith

Instead of all this, why not be constructive. Why not try listening to the hurt, to people who feel oppressed, to try to understand what’s causing it and trying to find a way to make it better?

People don’t like being angry. It might feel cathartic sometimes, and that might feel good sometimes, but nobody likes being angry and the idea that people passionate and furious about social injustice just like being angry is condescending and dehumanizing, just a little bit, isn’t it?

People don’t like being mad! Being angry doesn’t generally feel good. It sucks. It’s draining. People aren’t doing it for fun. People aren’t just having a lark when they speak up about things that, more often than not, will get them flooded with both well-meaning condescension and outright harassment. There may be a few exceptions, but assuming that everyone that’s upset about the way things are is just that is an extremely uncharitable view of humankind: odds are, for any group of people, they’re fundamentally just like you, and that includes the vocally angry and the outspoken.

If a group of people in society is upset about something that they experience, it’s just a bit callous to demand that every one of them meet a certain standard of calm and respectable. People that can remain calm are the exceptionally reserved. People who remain calm are going above and beyond what we should expect of them so they can try to politely convince everyone else. That shouldn’t be the expected standard, that should be seen as a gesture of politeness

Even within movements, even among people who share the same goals, there seems to be this expectation: the idea that those in a movement that are angry or upset are embarrassing and counterproductive and a hindrance to achieving your goals, that they are people you need to quickly disavow so that the people you’re trying to convince will take you seriously.

I understand that impulse. It can be frustrating. But it’s still kind of a shitty thing to do

Abandoning the parts of your movement that express themselves in less “acceptable” ways is starting from weakness, already ceding ground.

You shouldn’t play along in invalidating your movement. You should demand that their anger be taken seriously, explain that it’s a valid response. You should view yourself as a representative or an ambassador for that justified anger, and for all those folks that are justifiably angry

If I’m part of a movement and I’m calm enough to be identified as a “reasonable” social justice person, why the fuck would I embrace being used as a bludgeon to discredit the valid anger and reasoning of people who believe the same things? My calmness doesn’t refute their anger, it complements it.

[back to home]

[belonglab]

Gaslighting: A Tool of Oppression and Exclusion

by Alisha Patel, Communications & Research Fellow at GenLead|BelongLab

February 2, 2021

“I don’t see color.” This is one of the most common phrases people will use to defend themselves against accusations of racism. It isn’t the best, but at least it’s not explicitly racist, right? In a culture where calling out institutional and systemic racism feels like an ongoing battle that’s fought tiny steps at a time, that phrase feels like an adequate place to start. However, this phrase is actually a form of racial gaslighting, and its acceptance only perpetuates stereotypes and the racism we are trying to fight.

Gaslighting in general is a form of manipulation and psychological abuse where the perpetrator convinces the victim that they are imagining or overreacting to abuse. Over time, this can solidify the perpetrator’s position of power over the victim, turning it into an ongoing cycle of abuse. The effects of gaslighting are extensive-- the victim will start to second guess themselves and their judgments. While this form of manipulation is often talked about with regard to personal relationships, it can additionally be used to to cloak bigotry like racism.

Racial Gaslighting

Racial gaslighting often is used to excuse microaggressions in all forms. It can invalidate someone’s experience of perceived racism by subtly denying their feelings and emotions, excusing implicit comments meant to demean or discredit them, or even excusing explicit attacks on them. Its effects are grave; it subtly reinforces and sustains racial and social hierarchies that inevitably hurt minority groups. Not only does racial gaslighting allow stereotypes to continue, but it also degrades the victim’s sense of self and teaches them to invalidate their own instincts and judgments.

For example, imagine if someone had experienced racism in the workplace and attempted to tell a fellow coworker about the incident; instead of empathizing, the coworker reassured the victim “it couldn’t possibly be racism,” “it is all in your head,” or “you’re too sensitive.” Statements like this place the perpetrator in a position of power and control under the guise of morality, while undermining the victim’s experience as lesser-than. In turn, the victim can develop feelings of anxiety and depression as they start believing they cannot trust themselves and cannot express their emotions outwardly. According to clinical psychologist Dr. Roberta Babb, racial gaslighting also, “overtly and covertly erodes a person’s sense of self, self-worth, agency and confidence.” Thus, racial gaslighting feeds internalized oppression and Imposter Syndrome.

Racial gaslighting is so common that it is sometimes difficult to tell when it is happening, and it can even be unconscious or unintentional. Normalized phrases like “I don’t see color” seem to mean well at first glance, but in actuality serve to invalidate the struggles of a minority group while erasing the group’s lived history. It tells the listener, quite unequivocally, “I am not racist. What you are perceiving as racism on my part cannot possibly be racism.” Phrases like these are un-nuanced and oversimplified takes that may have been accepted in the past, but as we learn more about deep and entrenched racism, we see they are outdated, insensitive, and quite frankly, racist.

This type of manipulation often is used by mainstream media and people in power, ingraining its use in our culture and further highlighting the power dynamics underpinning racial gaslighting. Think of Donald Trump and his response to protest movements through the past year: On one hand, he refused to condemn Neo-Nazi protestors, saying there were “fine people on both sides.” But he mischaracterized Black Lives Matter protests calling for an end to police brutality as thugs and threatened them with the National Guard, warning “when the looting starts, the shooting starts.” He then mischaracterized the white supremacist, violent insurrection he incited on January 6th as a march, declaring his love for the insurrectionists. According to Trump, white supremacists are allowed the benefit of the doubt and could possibly be good people at heart. Yet, those in support of black lives are automatically dangerous and should be perceived as a threat. With these statements, Donald Trump at once validates the platform of white supremacists while invalidating black lives in the United States and negating the idea that racism is a problem; he normalizes the presence of white supremacy while revealing the inability of the country to acknowledge its inherent racism and bigotry. Anyone witnessing photos and images of how the BLM protesters were treated versus how the white supremacist insurrectionists were treated at our Capitol can see that racial gaslighting has deeply permeated our country systemically and is a problem that outlives the Trump presidency.

Gender Gaslighting

Also problematic is gender gaslighting, where a woman may not feel comfortable voicing concerns about sexism because her concerns are automatically dismissed. Consider a woman -- let’s call her Jana -- who has been working for a company for many years and is very qualified for a promotion. Yet every time Jana expects to be promoted, a man is given the promotion instead, even though he has had less time at the company and is not as qualified. Jana may attempt to discuss this with her boss, but he insists it has nothing to do with her gender; he tells her she is overanalyzing the situation and being over-sensitive. While it is possible that Jana’s boss could be telling the truth, it is more likely that her gender is in fact playing a role in not receiving a promotion, as this pattern has repeated multiple times. However, Jana has learned that she does not have a space to speak up about this sexism, will likely be negatively judged for speaking up and thus have an even harder time getting that promotion, and therefore most likely will not attempt to speak up again. This is the same situation that is seen with racial gaslighting-- the cycle will continue for Jana, and her emotions may inevitably turn inwards, convincing her that she is not qualified for any promotion and deserves to be limited to her current level.

COVID-19 Gaslighting

We even see gaslighting around COVID-19. As a college student at a very urban university, the pandemic has shaken up every single aspect of college life. Though my school has adjusted as best as possible (we are tested twice a week and receive our results within 24 hours; most classes are online and if they aren’t, there are usually less than five people in-person, all socially-distanced; so on and so forth), interacting with other students and people my age really reveals the mindset around the pandemic.

As the pandemic has raged on, it feels as though people have accepted its presence, or stopped caring altogether. It’s a stark difference from the first lockdown in March, where it felt (at least for the most part) that everyone was on the same page. But now, instead of staying inside and mitigating the impacts of the pandemic, it feels as though it’s now a matter of working around the pandemic to do things we used to do. Those who are still staying inside have become more of the minority than the majority, and are sometimes gaslighted to feel overly paranoid for continuing to take the pandemic seriously. This gaslighting is clearly very harmful to society as a whole, as it simultaneously perpetuates coronavirus while undermining common sense and the empathy to care about the collective nation.

COVID gaslighting can exist on a small interpersonal level. Consider a situation where two friends want to get together, but one is insisting on following social distancing regulations while the other is suggesting to abandon them altogether. The one wanting to abandon social distancing may claim that they have both been isolating themselves since the beginning of the pandemic, and it is unlikely that they could infect each other. They may go on to call their friend overly paranoid of the virus and accuse them of not wanting to get together. Though this is not actually the case, the friend who was attempting to follow COVID regulations is made to be the villain, which is a common gaslighting mechanism.

Even worse, COVID gaslighting has been perpetuated by some people in power, who can afford to preach a careless and selfish mentality around COVID-19 because, even when they contract the virus, they have the money, power, and resources to combat it. Meanwhile, they continue to manipulate the American public into believing that COVID is not something to be taken seriously.Their followers adopt the same invincible mindset, but it is clear that they -- and most other average Americans -- are not in the same situation and do not have the same money and resources to combat COVID if needed. The situation is even worse for identity groups that have been historically oppressed.

Many Black and brown communities are disproportionately affected by COVID-19: African-Americans deaths are two times higher than would be expected for their population, and it is the same for Hispanics and Latinos. On the other hand, white deaths from COVID are “lower than their share of the population in 37 states.” These disparities result from institutionalized and systemic racism (fed by racial gaslighting) that has been snowballing since our country’s inception.

Combatting Racism by Contending with Gaslighting

It is in no way, shape, or form the victim’s responsibility to attempt to change their gaslighter’s behavior. Instead, it is important for us to create safe spaces for these victims to be heard and validated. Thus, putting a stop to gaslighting begins by looking inwardly at our own behavior and preconceived biases; particularly, if you find yourself recognizing some of the behaviors symptomatic of gaslighting, it may be wise to engage in self-introspection and attempt to accept some responsibility. Though some gaslighting may be done unintentionally or what you believed to be well-meaning, it clearly is still harmful and must be mitigated. To confront the biases that may underlie your possible gaslighting of others, you can also take this online test that examines and assesses internal biases that you may not have even noticed (it takes about 10-15 minutes). Attempt to challenge these internal biases, and pay attention to how they affect your interactions with others.

Additionally, be prepared and open to truly listen to and learn from other people and their experiences, and focus on increasing your awareness of others’ circumstances. These steps can begin the process of acknowledging gaslighter responsibility. By first starting on a personal scale, we can expand this introspection to a larger scale and begin holding the racist systems in our country accountable.

If you find yourself a victim of gaslighting, it is important to safeguard your mental health. This can be done by taking a step back from the situation and removing yourself from the environment to consider the hurtful behavior and resulting emotions. You can write down your thoughts to affirm your judgement as valid and for reference if necessary. It also can be helpful to talk with other members of your identity group and share experiences like this. Affirmation from others with similar circumstances can validate your experience of harmful gaslighting and remind you that you are not alone. This can help you to trust yourself more as well as recognize the gaslighting as it is happening.

In the moment gaslighting is occurring, it is important to call out the behavior publicly (when possible and safe to do so), showing the perpetrator and others in proximity that the behavior is inappropriate and will not be tolerated. Further (again, to the extent safe and not harmful), you can talk one-on-one with the perpetrator to discuss the behavior, making sure to describe the behavior and why it is harmful. Setting boundaries (e.g., taking a step back, removing yourself from the situation, as described above) will help to loosen any grip the negative environment or perpetrator may have on you.

As an ally, it is important to help support victims of racial gaslighting by helping to call out the unacceptable behavior, as well as creating a safe space for victims to express themselves and be heard and respected. Make sure that what you are doing is not self-indulgent or performative, but rather is truly helpful to the victim and in their self interest.

Combatting racism in a present day context is not an easy task -- it is extremely complicated and has far-reaching and entrenched roots in the United States. That said, the task should begin with dismantling the practices that perpetuate racism on interpersonal and societal scales. By recognizing racial gaslighting, it is possible to disrupt stereotypes and racial hierarchies, while also offering the historically oppressed, excluded, and marginalized a safe space to speak and be heard, which uncloaks hard truths from underneath imposed false narratives. Those who insist they don’t see color are not seeing people of color and their lived experiences.

Without seeing the hard truths, we are unable to address them.

[sapphic-sex-ed]

if my mental health takes a "im considering hospitalizing myself" nose dive when im pre-menstrual that cant possibly be *normal* can it? ive told 2 psychs about it and they both basically just shrugged and i know everybodys kind of miserable when theyre pmsing but i feel like if everyone with a period was literally suicidal 1/4 of the time i would notice. Am i just not handling it as well as everyone else?

Look into PMMD (Premenstrual dysphoric Disorder) - severe depression is a really common symptom. I’m so sorry those psychs have been so dismissive of your symptoms. Please try again and specifically bring up PMMD because it is a very real diagnosis in the DSM-V and they have no right to ignore it or dismiss it. Focus on the way the symptoms impact your life - suicidality is not something to be taken lightly so depressive symptoms really are key to focus on.

I really hope you find a psych that takes your concerns seriously. Menstruation and related disorders have been hand waved away for so long and people wih period related disorders (both somatic like endometriosis and psychological like PMMD) have been seen as overreacting. But you aren’t. What you describe is ceirtanly not normal and if any other follower feels this way I ureg you, too, to talk to a professional about PMMD.

-mod liz

[patromlogil]

Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts - Analysis: What Is Up With Logan?

Thanks to everyone who voted for where to start, looking a little deeper at the song there is just so much of Remus in there (duh) and I want to hold off on going too much with him just yet. Besides, I started the SVS analysis with Logan and there’s something to be said about thematic rhyming, having the starting point match. Also this part doesn’t quite align with a lot of the rest of the analysis so might as well get it started.

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Analysis Tag List

@bluezingzapper @theitalianscribe @riot-meme @dabookwormcat @thatoneevan @icantpayattentiontoanything @4-the-love-of-anime1074 @never-rose-fander @lhumya @lime-trash @salted-skittles @sweaterkitty-fluff @risiskifi @catsarebestest @imnotcameraready @zozomind @mrs-masen-cullen @magpie1230 @suyun-doo @tinwegf @daflangstlairde @ryans-own2051  @ukeneko @awesomefandomfangirlfan @chaoticglitcher @dreamteaze @a-happy-crusteacean @inksandpensblog @bumble-bitch-sanders @tourettesservicedog @chatnoirismycinnamonroll @centorinsystems @anxiousalwaysvirgil @sariahs-song​ @hufflepuffgirl01​ @rivertherushingwater​ @free-the-fandom​

people who asked to be added but whom Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag for some reason-  @iihulkgirlii  @thiaholimon  @awkwardboisposts @shinydreamer1262  @cyrianadebergerac

Something felt kind of off the first time around, but it took me a few more watches and a lot of notes before I was able to break it down and figure it out. When I say ‘what’s up’ I don’t mean, ‘what’s wrong’. Quite the opposite in fact. What I’ve noticed honestly makes me so proud of Logan.

What do we know of Logan as a character? He thinks fairly highly of himself. He often values his own contributions over those of the others. More than once he acquiesces to the other’s suggestions but infrequently shows any true interest in a plan that’s not his own. He’s prone to frustration when trying to communicate with the other Sides, and he wishes to be taken seriously.

In Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts (DWIT) though, Logan is patient, calm, collected, he barely becomes frustrated or lashes out at all. Logan doesn’t shoot the others down, or dismiss them, he hears them out, trying to gain an understanding as to why they’re reacting the way they are.

Mr Logic “I need to be taken seriously” Logan even screams out FALSEHOOD! With a sly smirk to show he understands what it is to overreact. In that moment, Logan knows he looks silly but he knows they will likely better understand a demonstration from him than an argument. Throughout the entire video, with one exception, Logan keeps his head and doesn’t push the others, instead hearing them out and countering their points directly and effectively.

So where has this change come from?

In Learning New Things About Ourselves (LNTAO), Logan ended the video having had an epiphany. The silliness the others frequently indulge in perhaps holds more merit than he’s understood and given them credit for. He may not understand or relate to it himself, but that doesn’t mean it’s worthless and to be disregarded. If anything, he probably realises that just as he struggles to understand their aim, they may well struggle to understand him on occasion. It would stand to reason that as a result of this, Logan might research how to better communicate with the other Sides in a way that would better benefit them all, and if you listen to how he addresses the other Sides, it makes sense.

Roman summons him, something that we’ve only ever seen Roman do when he needs Logan’s help, Though maybe minorly frustrated, Logan doesn’t complain about being interrupted, and though clearly caught off guard at being summoned he doesn’t look angry. He just asks what Roman needs and gets straight to it.

As for Virgil and Patton, Logan listens. Seriously, watch it again and see the shots of Logan just taking in what they have to say, giving them a chance to voice their concern before countering them without anger, or malice, or judgement. Watch him use their own words against them in a way that forces them to consider what they’re doing. Watch him catch himself in his frustration, only to stop and reword it, thanking Virgil for being vigilant and validating his experience instead of undermining it, then firmly yet calmly insisting that he listen. And it works. Virgil and Patton respond to this, needing a few points to be pressed and repeated but eventually getting to the correct realisation that Logan has been trying to help them reach from the start. And Logan, the entire time constantly reassures them all, Thomas, Roman, Virgil, and Patton, that this is all okay. It’s fine. 

Fellow fanders, what I found out about Logan was, he’s grown. Proof positive that he’s eaten a figurative slice of humble pie, realised that maybe he doesn’t have the only answers, then taken that realisation, and used it to better help him to fulfil his role as Thomas’s Logical Side.

And I am so proud of him.

[ncityislove]

The Jury is Out Ch. 2

➳Pairing: Renjun x Reader x Jeno (ft a few other Dreamies)

➳Genre: fluff/ angst

➳Word Count: 7K

➳ Warnings: under age drinking, mentions of infidelity

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You were used to working with the guy you despise most in the world on a day to day basis but one day all that changes when you have to work together after school for two weeks. Was it crazy to want to be friends with your enemy? Was it possible to be something...more?

A/N: Sorry about the slow uploads. I’m trying to work on my motivation to write rn :/ Hopefully the next part will be up soon!

***STORY HAS BEEN RE-EDITED

The halls are cramped and chilly as you squeeze in between groups of people obnoxiously standing in the center of the walkway. Today is finally Friday, meaning you could rest at home for the next two days. Heaven knows you needed it given how shitty your week has been. You were incredibly exhausted and you couldn't figure out why, considering you overslept literally every morning. Not to mention, you were still pissed at Renjun for leaving you to work on the booth by yourself. To be frank, you just weren't in the mood today.

You trudge through the open door of your first period and sit in your seat, readjusting your headband. Renjun makes an appearance shortly afterwards, his oversized backpack brushing the doorframe—seriously, what a nerd—and you promptly look down at your phone, not wanting to give him any attention. If he thought you were going to let this one go he was dead wrong.

Class starts and Mrs. Brookes walks in with an arm full of papers. "Good morning, everyone! It's quiz time!!"

You jolt awake at that, the quiz seeming to have completely slipped your mind. You even forgot to study last night, falling asleep before you got the chance to start on the rest of your homework. You rub your tired eyes, trying to remember all the materials you learned in the past week but it was so hard to function at such an early hour.

You groan, laying your head down on the table just as Renjun approaches and places a scantron on the top of your head. You sit up in your chair, the paper sliding off onto the black surface in front of you, to find Renjun studying you with an odd look on his face. Maybe he was still feeling queasy from the lab yesterday?

"Were you...did you start on the booth yesterday?"

You roll your eyes to sky, picking up your pencil to fill out your name. Renjun stands there for a moment until he realizes he won’t be getting an answer and moves on to the next table. You feel a small sense of victory. Could that have been remorse that you'd seen on his face? You shake your head, immediately dismissing the thought. Impossible.

Ha, as if he was capable of such an emotion!

Well, whatever it was, it was obvious he wasn't proud of his actions yesterday. He looked like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs, his head hanging low as he passed out papers to the students. He really needed to get that temper of his in check.

Mrs. Brookes passes out the quizzes shortly after Renjun finishes passing out scantrons and starts a timer. You quickly get to work, thoroughly mulling over the questions and answers. Not even five minutes into testing, Renjun stands up to turn in his quiz. Of course, he would be the first one to finish. He always was. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and finish up the last two questions, turning in your paper next.

Sitting back down in your chair, you put your earbuds in, searching for a song to pass the time when you remember your father's orders for you and Sadie to spend more time together. Sadie had been driving you everywhere since she returned, even when it was within walking distance, she insisted.

You [9:32 AM]: are you picking me up today?

You switch back to your music playlist, settling on the first song you saw when your phone buzzed in your hand.

Sadie [9:33 AM]: yep! we're having a sisters night btw and before you ask no you can't get out of it ;)

Your head falls into your hands as you scream internally. Sadie was driving you bonkers from all this 'sister bonding' she's been forcing you into.

-

Haven’s there again at lunch, this time though, there was a long line of people waiting to sign up for the blood drive. You pause, wondering where everyone was when you started sign-ups.

Haven's hair bobs back and forth in her loose top-knot as she nods in conversation with some girl having trouble understanding the process of the blood drive.

"They don't put you to sleep when they take the blood?" the girl asks with a panicked expression.

"No, that's not how blood drives work..."Haven replies, her lips in a thin line.

"If I ask them to, do you think they will?"

Haven rolls her eyes so far back you could only see the whites of her eyeballs. "No. Are you gonna sign-up or not?"

The poor girl looks like she was gonna piss her pants right then and there. She shakes her head no and briskly walks away.

"Next!" Haven shouts.

You sit down in the chair next to Haven and she glances at you, giving you a once-over.

"Cute bracelet. Where'd you get it?"

"Thanks, it was a gift from my sister. I'm not sure where she got it," you reply, fumbling with the charms.

Sadie had bought you the bracelet two Christmases ago and you'd haven’t taken it off since. Not for any reason, in particular, you just thought it looked nice with how plain your uniform was.

After the last person scurries off to their friends, you and Haven start digging in to your lunches.

"So..., "Haven begins. "are you and Renjun together?"

It takes a few seconds for her question to register in your brain and then you’re nearly choke on your PB&J sandwich, dramatically coughing for dear life.

"Together? As in dating??" 

You couldn't even hide how horrified you were by the question. The audacity of her to ask such a heinous question was unsettling. Didn't everyone know you hated each other? Even the teachers knew about your rivalry.

"Not even if he was the last person on Earth," you defend. "Besides, Renjun hates my guts."

"I see," she nods. "But how do you feel about him?"

You stop mid-chew. "Huh?"

"The way you guys talk to each other, I just assumed there was some sort of history there I didn't know about. I mean, he's cute, yeah sure, anyone with eyes can see that but he's also really smart and he's super sweet when he wants to be."

Sweet my ass—

"Hey!" Renjun calls out as he approaches from the side.

At this rate, he was going to make a daily habit of stopping by your table at lunch.

Haven gives you a suspicious glare before she busies herself by cutting up her fruits with the dull ends of her plastic fork.

"Hey," he repeats once he was closer to the table. "Are we still meeting after school?"

You almost said yes before you remembered you were still mad at him for ditching you yesterday. You give him a stormy look and pull out your phone, making a point that you were ignoring him.

"I know you're giving me the cold shoulder and what not—and I get it. I really do. But could you just meet me on the field so we can get this done? That's all I ask."  

And with that, he walks away.

"Hey, Renjun!" Haven yells after him. He glances over his shoulder but keeps walking.

That was weird.

"What exactly happened between you two?" you ask.

Haven chews on her bottom lip before shaking her head. "It's complicated."

Complicated. What did that even mean? Aren't all breakups complicated? Why did you care anyway, it's not like it's any of your business.

Right.

It wasn't any of your business so why did you ask that? It was odd enough that you were curious about Renjun's past relationships but now it was going to seem like you were actually interested in him. And let’s face it, hell would freeze over before that would ever happen.

-

After the final bell rings, you make your way to the track field. You debated on whether or not you should even show up but you weren't as douche-ey as Renjun.

Your feet pad down the concrete stairs, trotting across the damp grass. You spot the familiar head of dark hair in the center of the field as you near the booth. Renjun had already begun without you, taping the flags on each side of the booth. His uniform jacket was folded neatly on top of his bag on the ground and you drop yours down next to his. Renjun is too immersed in getting the tape to hold the flags to notice your arrival. Despite the cold, there’s a light sheen of sweat that coats his honey bronze skin, his fringe starting to stick to his forehead.

You clear your throat loudly and Renjun peeks over his shoulder.

"Oh, you came," Renjun let out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, well, I'm not you so..." you trail off.

"Right," his voice is low. "Look, about yesterday...I shouldn't have just left you like that." 

He pauses to wipe the sweat at his temples with the back of his hand. "I overreacted and I'm sorry. Things have been...off lately."

You’re silent for a moment, not sure of what to say. It wasn't like Renjun to show any real emotion towards you.

You approach him, adjusting the flag properly so the tape wouldn't peel off from the weight.

"You've been apologizing a lot lately."

The corners of Renjun's lips curve upwards. "I guess I have."

It was silent as he begins to nail a wooden board across the table legs.

You watch him work as you mindlessly painted a plank of wood for the top of the booth. His brow is creased as he carefully handles the hammer and nail.

"How'd you do on the quiz?" he asks, disturbing the stillness in the air.

"It was pretty easy," you muse. "I probably got an A."

"You always get an A, what do you mean 'probably'?" he chuckles.

A smile creeps on your face. "I'm just being modest here—of course I got an A!"

"When are you ever modest?" Renjun retorts, a teasing smile playing on his lips. And you realize for the first time, it's a smile that was meant in a friendly way.

"I'm more modest than you could ever be."

Renjun moves on to the next board, picking up a new nail. "Maybe. That's the only thing you do better than me, though."

You scoff. You knew it was meant to be a joke but you couldn't help but feel irritated by how true it was.

"I will admit that you are better than me at a lot of things. If modesty is all I have on you, I'll take what I can get."

Renjun chuckles. "I was joking! There's tons of stuff you can do better than I ever could."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" you ask.

"If you're fishing for compliments, I'm not falling for that," he shakes his head with a laugh.

"I'm not asking for compliments, I'm serious. You're always one step in front of me, Renjun. No matter how you look at it, you're perfect."

Renjun stops hammering to look at you. "Was that supposed to be a joke? I don't know if you've noticed, but the reason why I have to work so hard to keep my spot at the top is you. You keep me on track because I know if I slack off for even a sliver of a moment, you'll take it away from me. I'm not perfect."

You stare at him for a beat, an odd feeling stirring in your chest.

"No one's better than anyone, alright? We're equals," he finishes, re-focusing on his task again.

His voice is cool and smooth like marble and for the first time you hear a gentle tone in his words. The gleam in his eye showed you a more sincere side of himself you never knew existed and it made your heart pick-up.

"Right, of course," you say, forcing a laugh.

The two of you continue to have small talk as you work. Him, always asking the questions and you, trying to answer them as politely as possible. After a while, the atmosphere begins to feel less forced and you’re able to talk to him freely without feeling the painful drag of awkwardness.

When the sun begins to paint the sky red, you both decide that was enough work for the day. You agree to meet on Monday again after school.

You walk together to the parking lot mostly in silence. When Renjun offers to walk you to your sister's car you decline immediately, not wanting Sadie anywhere near him. You wave to him as you got into the passenger's side of Sadie's Audi.

"See 'ya later!" he shouts before he hops into a black truck across the lot.

"Who's that? He's cute," Sadie says, craning her neck to watch him get into the car.

You buckle your seatbelt. "Not really. That's just my lab partner from anatomy."

"Are you kidding me? If I was your age I'd be all over that. And single of course."

"I don't know, I guess he is. I haven't really thought about him that way before."

Sadie drives out of the parking lot, looking at you as if you had two heads. "You guess? We really need to sort out your taste in men."

You hum, waving her comment off and thankfully she doesn't pester you about it for the rest of the way home.

"Let's make cookies!" Sadie suggests, tossing her keys in the dish on the table.

You scowl. "You know I can't cook."

"I'll give you the easy stuff to do," she says, shuffling into the kitchen.

You press your lips together, following her to your doom. Baking cookies wasn't something you ever wanted to do in your lifetime but here you were in the kitchen with Sadie doing something you didn't want to do, yet again.

"I'll make the batter and then you can mix it with this spoon here, see?" she holds up a large wooden spoon.

You nod wordlessly, slumping over the wooden counter while she washes her hands.

You watch Sadie gather all the ingredients from around the kitchen and set them out around a ginormous bowl from the cupboard you didn't know existed until now.

"Since mom and dad aren't home yet, I can finally tell you about Jodie!" Sadie claps her hands excitedly.

You mime gagging behind her back before slumping back over the counter.

"Oh god, where do I even begin," she pauses in deep thought. "Oh! We met at orientation, as you know. But what I didn't tell you is how he asked me out."

"And how'd he do that?" you try to hide the boredom in your voice.

"He brought a big basket of those muffins I like from the dining hall—well technically he stole them but anyways—he brought them to my dorm and asked me to dinner at this underground restaurant and, ugh, it was so romantic! It had all these twinkly lights and a live band!"

"That does sound nice. Except for the stealing part. I don't find illegal stuff romantic."

"Of course you wouldn't, but anyway, we've been together ever since. We made two years last month," Sadie smiled at her bowl of mush ingredients.

"Wow, I hadn't even realized it's been that long," you reply, toying with the wooden spoon.

"Yeah," she sighs. "Mom and dad met him a couple of days before our anniversary but they don't know everything that happened so when I tell you this, you have to promise me you won't say anything, okay?"

You perk up at the seriousness of her tone. "Yeah, of course."

Sadie looks hesitant before she speaks. "After about a year into our relationship, Jodie...he cheated on me with some girl in his psych class."

"He what??!" you jump up, nearly knocking over the ingredients Sadie had set up so neatly.

Who in their right mind would ever cheat on someone as amazing as Sadie? Everyone loved Sadie. And you meant everyone. If someone didn't like her it was because they were jealous and even then they secretly liked her! It just didn't make sense. No matter which you put it, you can’t think of a single reason why he would think that was a good idea or even be tempted to cheat with another woman. He was more foolish than you ever anticipated.

"And what happened? You're still with him?"

Sadie looks ashamed as she avoids your gaze. "We broke up for about a month after it happened. But yes, we're still together."

You grab her arm, making her look at you. "Why would you get back together with someone who cheated on you with some random girl?"

"You wouldn't understand, __, you're still young. You've never even had a boyfriend before. It's not that simple."

You frown, confused and albeit a little angry. Isn't it common sense to break up after your partner had an affair? Sadie was everyone's dream girl—she was sweet, loving, beautiful, knew how to cook and was too forgiving for her own good. The fact that she decided to stay with some loser who couldn't see that was infuriating. You didn't like Jodie before but now you actually had a valid reason.

"Please don't be mad, __," Sadie pleads as if reading your mind. "Love is...complicated."

Complicated. There's that word again.

Sadie tucked her hair behind her ears, searching for the right words. "Just because he hurt me, doesn't mean I don't love him anymore. I can't just turn off my feelings for him whenever I want. Those feelings don't go away so easily and you'll see that for yourself one day,"

"I'd rather not," you huff, crossing your arms.

Sadie drags your body to the bowl now that she was done measuring the needed materials.

"Not all relationships turn out like mine. Maybe you'll have better luck than me," she gives you a small smile.

You stir the mixture clumsily, as you give her an pointed look. "Yeah right, have you met me?"

"Oh hush," she slaps your arm. "Enough about me. What about this lab partner of yours?"

You grimace. "I promise you nothing's going on there. His friend Jeno, however, is much more interesting."

Sadie holds the bowl steady for you as your stirring grows sloppier. "Oh, all the Jenos I've met are always crazy hot."

"His looks don't disappoint, believe me. He's got the whole school wrapped around his finger. He's really smart too."

"I knew he'd be smart if you were interested in him. Does he play a sport?"

"Soccer."

"That's even hotter," Sadie replies, taking the bowl from you and forming a small ball with the dough. "Can you grab that big pan and put a baking sheet over it for me?"

You follow her instructions and she thanks you, placing a ball on the pan.

"What's crazy is, he's barely even spoken to me prior to this week but he suddenly asked me to go to his party tonight."

"Well, you're going, right?" she pauses to turn on the oven.

"Of course not," you answer in an incredulous tone.

"Why not?!" Sadie exclaims. "You have to go!"

"I don't do parties and I don't do boys, you know that," you resume back to your position over the counter.

"Right, those lame rules you made when you were like ten. Don't you think they're a little ridiculous? You can still have a life and be successful, you know."

You pursed your lips. "I like my rules."

"You like them because they keep you in your comfort zone. You gotta go, honey. You're gonna regret it if you don't. And you don't have to date Jeno. Just try to get to know him—ignore him all night for all I care—just go and have some fun for once!"

"I don't think—"

"Nope! You don't have a choice, you're going!" she says cutting you off.

"Put the cookies in the oven while I get everything ready!" Sadie shouts as she runs off to her old room in haste.

You throw your head back, throwing a silent tantrum before putting the cookies in the oven.

When you meet Sadie in her room, her entire contents of her suitcase were thrown out onto the floor with a giant case of makeup open by the mirror. You immediately walked back out yelling out a quick and stern 'no!'

"Wait! Come on, it'll be fun!" she runs after you, her arms spilling over with dresses you'd rather die than to put on your body.

Sadie manages to coax you out of your room and back into hers but only after you made her promise to not do anything too crazy.

You change out of your uniform and into a pair of jeans and one of Sadie's satin blouses. You already flat-out refused to wear her dress so when you rejected the idea of wearing any type of heels, she settled for her black booties. You’re lucky you wear the same size in everything otherwise you’d end up showing up in that old church dress your mom bought you four years ago before you all stopped going. There was never a need to get nice-looking clothes because you never went anywhere. 

You find yourself sitting on the floor in between your sister's legs as she curls your hair. You have major difficulty remaining still for long periods of time and Sadie burned you a few times because of it. When she’s content with your hair she attempts to do your makeup but your reject anything more than mascara and lipgloss, knowing what kind of harmful chemicals it was all made of.

You allow her to do your eyebrows solely because of the sad look in her eye when you said you didn't want to. It hurt like hell and you think you might regretted it a little but the outcome wasn't too shabby, although you'd never admit that to Sadie.

Sadie brings you a plate full of cookies as you did your mascara, giving you pointers as she munches down on a sugar cookie.

Once the torture was over, you feel like you were an entirely different person. Not in a catfish, full face of makeup kind of way but in a this girl never wears anything outside of her school uniform and pajamas kind of way. The person in the mirror looks so foreign to you and you can’t decide if it was a good or bad change but you didn't have too much time to dwell on it before Sadie was shoving you out the door.

After giving her the address from Jeno's Snapchat story, Sadie sends you a warm smile. Her nose crinkles a bit and she keeps staring at you with this motherly look in her eye.

"You look pretty. You always look pretty but you look especially pretty right now."

You're cheeks feel a tad warm as you give her an uncomfortable smile, thanking her.

Once you arrive at the address, Sadie grabs your hand and squeezes it. "Text me when you're ready for me to pick you up. Have fun okay? But be careful."

"Okay," you reply before exiting the car.

You wave to Sadie as she drives away, wishing you could call her back and beg her to take you home but it was too late for that. You came all the way here and now you had to man up and do this. But the overwhelming amount of second thoughts leave you frightened. You can’t help but wonder if Jeno's invitation to you was a joke or some sort of dare he was forced into. Even Renjun knew you didn't belong here.

You take a deep breath and walk towards the front door, letting yourself in. The music hits you like a wave, stunning you for a moment. You hadn't heard it outside the house so the overwhelming sound of the bass resonating through your bones made your heart pick up even faster than before.

The living room was packed with familiar-looking people, most of them leaned against the large walls of the room, a cup full of an unidentifiable liquid in their hands, others dancing wildly in the center of the room.

You decide to search for Jeno, not knowing what else to do. You squeeze through several clusters of people but the dimness of the room made it nearly impossible to see anyone clearly that wasn't less than five feet away, so you give up for the time being, taking an empty spot on the wall near the couch.

You unlock the screen of your phone, just about to text Sadie to come and get you when Haven strides up to you with a golden-haired boy you recognized as Jisung—one of Renjun's friends.

"What are you doing here?" she yells over the music.

You frown at her question. "You know why I'm here; you were there when Jeno invited me."

"You know Jeno?" Jisung asked, his eyes scanning you in curiosity. "I haven't seen you around before—are you new?"

Your fingernails dig into the skin of your palm. If you had a nickel for every time a student asked you that. You would think at least some people would have known you from the vast amounts of extra-curricular activities and sports you played but of course, you were just as invisible to them as you were to everyone else.

"I've been going to this school longer than you have, freshie," you fight the urge to roll your eyes at the kid.

"What's with the way you're dressed? Don't you own anything other than a lame shirt and some jeans?" Haven sneers, giving you a look of pure disgust.

You look down at your outfit, suddenly self-conscious. Was it too conservative for a party like this? Haven's mini skirt and flashy crop top made your outfit look dull in comparison. Maybe you should’ve worn one of Sadie’s dresses after all.

And here you thought bumping into Haven was going to save you from the embarrassment of hanging around the party like some loner without friends. before now, you never really cared to make friends throughout school, preferring to be alone. You had your parents and although they were annoying at times, they were more than enough company for you. You try not to allow her words to affect you but they do. Your throat tightens with sudden urge to cry but you fight it.

"Just because I'm not dressed like a whore doesn't mean it's not cute," you gruff, brushing past her.

You push through the crowd of people towards the front door only to bump into a hard chest that belonged to none other than Lee Jeno.

"Oof! I'm sorry—oh! __, you came," Jeno smiles pleasantly. "Come with me," he grabs your elbow, not waiting for a response as he leads you back to the center of the room to the twin couches. 

He signals his friends to make a space for you, ushering you to sit down next to him. You’re surprised to see Renjun sitting on the other side of you, immersed in what seemed like an intense level of Tetris.

"Hey, Renjun," you greet him.

Renjun glances up from his phone, his eyes going wide, obviously surprised that you showed up.

"Umm...Renjun?" you sit back, feeling uncomfortable after a while of him not saying anything.

"Hello? Earth to Renjun?" you snap your fingers in front of his face, finally sparking something in him as he blinks once then twice.

"S-sorry, hi," he says awkwardly then resumes playing his game.

You scowl, expecting a better response. Why was he acting so strange? Just a few hours ago, he insisted on walking you to Sadie's car but now he won't say more than two words to you? Did he not want his friends to know you were getting along?

You’re silent as Jeno jokes along with his friends, a crowd gathering around the popular boy.  His eyes squint into laughter whenever one of his friends says something stupid. Thankfully, he was turned in the opposite direction so you could admire the side-view of his chiseled face. You’re glad to have found Jeno when you did, or else you wouldn't have been sitting next to him now, feeling like you a part of something for once.

"Why do you look like that?" Renjun speaks and your cheeks turn rosy, hoping he didn't notice you staring at his best friend.

You attempt to look nonchalant as you answer. "Look like what?"

"I don't know. You look...weird," he says, his eyes staring straight into yours, making you feel cold.

You drew back from him, your heart feeling heavy at his statement. Did you really look so bad that two people had to tell you that to your face?

Apparently, Jeno had heard the conversation as he wraps his arm around your shoulder. "I think you look pretty," he pokes a finger in your cheek and you almost die on the spot.

You shake your head, embarrassed, and Jeno only chuckles, turning back to his friends but leaving his arm around you.

You don't say anything after that, listening to the notes of a song you’ve never heard before in favor of the conversation being held next to you. They were talking about sports, something--unless it was volleyball--that you didn't have much interest in. After a few songs, you get bored, looking to Renjun, who was still on the same level of Tetris. Feeling your gaze on him, you lock eyes for a brief moment then he looks away again.

Concerned, you nudge his elbow, "Are you okay?"

Renjun doesn't look back up at you. "I'm fine."

Obviously, he wasn't but you drop it, not wanting him to snap at you again like the other day.

Jeno tightens his arm around your neck, grabbing your attention. "You wanna dance?"

"Oh, god no," you answer quickly. "I don't dance."

Jeno tilts his head at you. "Hmm..."

You blink, waiting for him to continue.

He stands up abruptly, your eyes following him. "Come with me," he holds a hand out for you to take.

You remember your sister's warning and decide that doesn't sound like a safe thing to do. "I want to stay here."

Jeno pouts, sensing the reason behind your hesitancy. He grabs your wrist, pulling you up with strength you didn't know he had.

"I promise, I won't try anything weird," he smiles that Jeno smile at you and how could you resist?

You let him drag you away from the party, your eyes alert for anything if he tried something funny. You never fought anyone before but you decide that if it came down to it, you were prepared to, even if it was your precious Jeno.

You pass through the kitchen and dining area, where there’s a glass sliding door leading to a patio. He opens it, stepping through first and letting go of you as he held the door open for you. It was a wooden patio with a large grill and fancy table with a yard that has more than enough space for the entire party attendees to run around in. The quietness surrounds your ears as you venture out further onto the patio, noticing a pool at the end of the yard. It was the kind of backyard that everyone dreamed of as a kid.

Jeno motions with his head to follow him and you trail behind him to the lounge chairs by the pool.

"Is this more comfortable for you?" he asks crossing his legs as he lays back in his chair.

You smile, abashedly. "Yes."

Your eyes follow a group of leaves swirling around each other in the pool as you ask Jeno a question that had been on your mind since Wednesday.

"Why did you invite me to your party?" your heart pounds in your ears, remorse fueling your body at the question immediately. You wouldn't know what you'd do if he told you it was a joke. Or worse, if he suddenly confessed to you.

Jeno purses his lips, drinking from his cup, probably full of luke-warm beer. "Because I think you're hilarious. Plus you're super pretty. I always wanted to get closer to you so I thought inviting you to my party would be a good place to start."

You let out a breath, neither relieved or disappointed he didn't ask you out. But he did admit he was interested in you in a way, didn't he? You decide to ask Sadie when you get home.

"So, how's that booth coming along?"

You snort, remembering the project Renjun sucked you into doing with him. "It's nearly half-way done but it would be closer to being finished if I didn't have to start on my own."

"Yeah I heard about that," he giggles. "Go easy on him, okay? He's under a lot of stress right now."

Your eyes almost dart of their sockets. "That boy gets everything he wants. There's no way in hell he could have anything more than the occasional pimple to stress over."

Jeno snickers again. "You always crack me up," with a shake of his head he continues. "Renjun's father is really hard on him when it comes to school and he's also really disappointed in him for not being on the soccer team. The best just isn't enough for the guy, I guess."

You sigh, trying to wrap your head around the concept of Renjun having real issues. Of course, every person had their own problems it's just that you never actually thought of him as a person. He was always just an obstacle blocking you from the future you've always wanted.

"I didn't know that," you say after a while.

"No one does. He doesn't like telling people," he stops to take a gulp of beer. "Does that mean you'll be nicer to Renjun?"

"Ha!" you scoff, taking his cup and having a sip. You weren't really sure what made you do that but it was already too late, the warm beverage already making its way down your throat. It wasn't as bad as you thought it would be but it still wasn't a flavor that you particularly liked. You shrug, taking a bigger gulp of it.

"Nine times out of ten he's the one who starts it. He brings it on himself," you laugh.

Jeno's laughter chimes with yours and you enjoy each other's company for a little while longer, just staring at the moon hanging in the raven sky.

"I don't get how you can even stand being friends with him. You pick on each other all day."

Jeno sighs, kicking his feet in the air. "That's what friends do, I guess. Maybe that's just guys, though. I mean, it all comes from a good place but when it really comes down to it, we're always there for each other."

"That's nice," you say, suddenly feeling guilty for what you said about Jeno. "I wouldn't know. I don't really have friends."

Jeno raises his eyebrows at you. "Really? I thought you had a ton of friends in all those clubs your in."

"Nah, I never really connected with those people."

"Well, I'll be your friend," Jeno cheeses at you and you gush, an unmistakable blush warming your cheeks.

You nod, as you struggle to drink the last of the contents of the beer with an unwavering smile.

A stiff breeze blows by, the leaves rustling in the trees above your heads. You tuck your face into your jacket to brace yourself from the cold.

"I already broke two rules in the span of one hour," you breath, not caring your words formed aloud.

Jeno glances at you curiously, "Hmm?"

You smile to yourself. "Nothing. It’s just some stupid rules I made up when I was like ten."

"Is dancing included in those rules?"

"No, actually."

Jeno stands up with a grunt. "Would you reconsider my offer from earlier?" he asks, his hand held out to you like before.

You weren't sure if it was the now empty cup of beer or maybe you felt a change in you at that moment that you never felt before but you found yourself taking his hand and being led away to the dance floor.

The music was different than what you were used to, the beat a little too fast-paced for you but you followed what everyone else was doing around you, throwing your hands above your head and jumping until you were out of breath. Jeno guides your body closer to him until you were pressed against one another, his arm secured tightly around your waist. You throw your head back in laughter, never having thought the night would've turned out like this. Jeno’s fiery lauch chimes in with yours, his eyes squinting into slits as he twirls you around the living room. You’ve never felt so free. Your mind was always weighted by thoughts of homework and exams. Your life revolved around school and you never seen a problem with it. So many years spent cooped at home when you could’ve been experiencing this. A few more cups and you don't even have a second thought about dancing with Jeno, the two of you goofing around the living room and bouncing around wildly. You were too drunk to notice the entire room hooting and cheering you on and you were too drunk to notice Renjun's eyes glued to the two of you the entire night.

--

You toss your bag on the floor of the car, then plop down in the seat, Sadie already revving up the engine next to you.

She sends you an odd look once you’ve settled in. "No headband and ponytail today?"

Your hands smooth over the top of your hair instinctively. "No. I think I like my hair better down."

Sadie reaches over, pinching your cheek. "I think you look good either way."

You rub the spot Sadie grabbed, grumbling as you always did.

"One party and my little sissy's all grown up!" Sadie cries, her lips in a pout.

You face-palm yourself. "Nothing's changed. I just styled my hair little differently today, Sadie."

The car comes to a stop at a red light. "Are you sure this has nothing to do with Jeno confessing to you at the party?"

Your face turns beet red as you sputter to defend yourself. "It wasn't a confession! And I didn't have time to find my headband because I slept through my alarm. Thanks for waking me up on time, by the way, Miss I-Wake-Up-At-Four A.M-everyday!"

Sadie giggles an apology, patting your leg.

You arrive to your first period, sitting in your unassigned-assigned seat and throwing your belongings down in the seat next to you, waiting as the rest of the students poured in. The bell sounds and Mrs. Brookes comes in, stressing about the class average of the quiz you took Friday.

Your graded papers were passed back and you were delighted to see an A+ scribbled in red at the top. You look up to find Renjun and show him your score. You aced the quiz just as said you would back at the field the other day. When your eyes land on his seat, however, you find it empty. Your eyes scan the classroom but still no Renjun. Did he not come in at all? It was strange for him to be tardy–it was normally you who was always late. Was he okay? He did look a bit off the last time you saw him...

You find yourself constantly checking the door throughout the class period, expecting him to barge in with some lame excuse or maybe he had a real one for being late for all you knew but he never did.

Second and third period go by and still no sign of Renjun. You were starting to worry about the booth. You didn't want to work on it by yourself but if he wasn't going to show, shouldn't he at least message you?

You suddenly remember Jeno's words to go easy on Renjun. It was things like this that made it impossible to do just that. This was important to you and you could've sworn it was important to him too! Next time you see him, you’ll kill him! Not even Jeno could stand in the way of what you were going to do to him.

When you make it to the field later that afternoon, there’s a lot more kids than last week but, of course, still no Renjun. You puff your cheeks with air, zipping up your coat and start to paint the last part of the booth.

Not even a moment later, a kid walks over to you with a scarf covering half of his face and a coat so big he could barely move his arms.

"Hey, you're __, right?"

You put down your paintbrush. "Yeah? Who are you?"

"I'm Chenle. Renjun asked me to help you out with the booth for him."

"Oh," you blink. You were relieved you didn't have to do this on your own but you were kind of uncomfortable working with a stranger at the same time.

"Why wasn't he at school today, anyway?"

You could tell he was smiling by the rise in his cheeks. "He told me to tell you that he was sick today but I don't see a reason to lie to a stranger. He actually came late after third period."

You let a curse slip through your lips but hold in your rage, picking up the paintbrush again. There was no way he could be serious. He only missed three classes, which happened to be the only ones he shared with you. 

"So, why wasn't he at lunch?"

He shrugs. "I don't know either. I just assumed he was with Jeno," 

You let out a long sigh.

Jeno wasn't at lunch either? You hadn't even noticed; you were so busy looking for Renjun. Your eyebrows furrow, giving Chenle something easy to do while you finish painting. You’re angry more than anything. You blew up his phone all day, asking where he was and if he was okay and yet, not a single response but he was at school the whole time. Why would he do that? Was he avoiding you for some reason? You didn't exactly know why but it pained you to think that. Was it stupid to think you were actually becoming friends?

Of course, you weren't friends. Renjun was just trying to make working together tolerable. How could you think that when he was being so cold to you at the party? You were still competing with each other at the end of the day. What good could possibly come out of befriending your enemy? He didn't text you back because he didn't have to. He sent someone to help you out in his place and that was all he owed you.

You knew you had no reason to be upset. Renjun didn't trick you into anything. He never said he wanted to be friends. It was your fault for mistaking his kindness for something bigger than that. But still, your eyes sting with unshed tears, your back turned away from Chenle. You weren't going to cry in front of Renjun's friend. You'd embarrassed yourself enough already.

[spoonie-living]

How Do I Pain Scale? ER/A&E Edition

As our “Add ‘Distress’ To Your Pain Scale” and “Find The Right Scale For Your Symptoms” posts have made the rounds, we’ve gotten some discussion around how to get taken seriously for pain at the ER (A&E for some of y’all). Here’s a quick roundup!

Disclaimer: use these tips for legitimate pain needs, and don’t lie just because you don’t feel like waiting. That said, don’t undervalue your own needs either.

From @gods-and-punks:

...remember, at least for my experience in American Emergency Care, always rate your emergency’s pain 7 or higher or you won’t be prioritized.  My sister’s concussion almost didn’t get seen because she was so out of it that she said “3″ for pain, even though she was severely concussed.

Followed by a warning from shiniesandbuttsecks:

This *should* be a great idea, but from my experiences I’m pretty sure this would just lead to me being told I need better “crisis management skills” again and more suggestions that maybe my pain is a somatic symptom due to mental health difficulties and I just need a short course of CBT.

And more commentary on the subtleties involved here by adventuresinchronicpain:

It's a thin line to get the care you need. Use your best judgement on how much you can trust your doctor and the medical system you’re working in.

For people in the UK: If in A&E, say 7 or 8. This is mostly anecdotal from other patients but also from A&E nurses, but if you say anything less than 7 (the first time they ask) you go right to the bottom of the list, and if you say 9/10 there’s a good chance you’ll be seen as overreacting. Unless you’re screaming and crying, don’t say anything over 8, even if you feel like it. If you’re going in with something that needs to be treated at A&E but isn’t urgent, then obviously just be honest. But if you’re coming in and feel you need to be seen urgently: 7 or 8.

Overall, you just gotta be careful. If the triage folks or doctors feel like you're lying, you could also easily be dismissed. And it’s important for them to get a legitimate read on your pain, anyway. BUT, if you have a history of underrating your pain or an unusually high pain tolerance and are in that 5-6 zone, kicking it up to a 7 could help everyone out. 

[michartdesign]

Women’s Health is Important, My story. (Part I)

Let this be a cautionary tale to all the ladies out there who don't see the need to have checkups regularly. I am by no means telling what you should or shouldn't do, but I hope if there is something to take away from this, is to value your body and give it the respect and care it needs to keep healthy. 

All this started back in 2016 when at work, I suddenly became violently ill and had extreme lower left abdomen pain. I drove myself home and continued to roll around the floor just outside the bathroom in case I needed to throw up again. I have a history of painful periods, so I thought this was just a very bad PMS episode. After withstanding the pain for a couple of hours, I decided to go to the ER, by the time I got there the pain had subsided some, but every time I got up or walked, it got worse.

The intake nurse took my vitals and asked what my pain level was on a scale from 1-10, I said 8 and I were moved back to the waiting room, without even a painkiller. Now, I have an immense pain threshold, so I didn't look like I was struggling. After about an hour, they called me back in so I could be seen by a doctor. I explained my symptoms to her and she looked visibly concerned, she went on to check my belly, ordered an ultrasound and back to the waiting room I went. Again, no pain killers. I never saw the same doc again.  

I had my ultrasound done and it was so painful, I was shaking as the nurse scanned the area where it hurt and told me she couldn't see anything, she then proceeded to ask “why are you overreacting like this?”. I was appalled!. After almost 9 hours in the ER and shift changes, they finally call me in, I get some Tylenol and they let me stay in a little room with other ladies awaiting their results. 3 more hours pass until finally get an answer, they dismiss it as being PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) prescribe some Metformin, which ‘should’ help and some more Tylenol for the pain. I get discharged. I thought I was safe.

A week later, the same thing happens, I feel horribly sick, I'm throwing up and rolling around in pain again. I show up in the ER extremely concerned, I get dismissed as being an opioid addict and attention seeker, because “records show they already checked me an found nothing, plus, you have to give the pills time to take effect”. I spend another full day in the ER at a teaching hospital, where I have student after student check me and try to figure out which diagnosis best fits me. It was frustrating, to say the least! I get sent home with stronger painkillers and a diagnosis of depression. I couldn't believe it!

A month goes by, nothing happens, I finish my treatment thinking it had worked, I was beyond happy. When again, very suddenly the same pain, in the same area with the same symptoms come back with a vengeance!. This time I at least make it to the acute wing, where the nurse in charge orders an MRI test. I finally get told, that I have PCOS but nothing can be done surgically as there is no risk of complications. Then he asks me “Will you leave if I write your discharge papers?”, I say no, I need to leave with an answer, this pain is killing me and I'm missing work because of it. I should have kept my mouth shut because he thought I was there just as an excuse to not go to work!. I'm dying in pain here, this is NOT made up, open me up and check me!, I was extremely frustrated, as I get sent home with a note to excuse my absence from work.

Over the next few months, I have follow up after follow up with the OBGYN and the Gastrointestinologist and nothing is figured out, again I am a guinea pig for all the students. I get sent home with no answers, because ‘the pain I'm in is not indicative of the symptoms you are showing’. My emergency medical expires and I don't qualify for the regular medical because I earn too much. I fall into a medical limbo, where I cant neither qualify for Obamacare or Medical, so I let it go. I don't get the pain again and I am grateful to be healthy for the following couple of years.

Fast forward to June 19, 2019. I have moved back home to L.A and I'm happily dropping off my sister at school when BOOM, it hits me again, very suddenly. This time I can't even walk from the pain and I'm throwing up every liter of water I have in my body, the pain is well above a 10. I try to compose myself to drive home, but I am in such pain and so weak, I have to call my parents for help. As I wait in the car, I take some Tylenol. They arrive and are immediately worried at how sick and pale I look, as we drive home, every bump in the road makes me wail in pain. Dad suggests I go to the ER, I am apprehensive because of what happened last time. Because the pain had gone away the last time, I thought I could do away with some Advil, to reduce the fever also. Maybe the doctors were right, maybe this was bad PMS again. 

I get home, drag myself up the stairs and promptly sprint to the bathroom to throw up, parents leave for work and I try to take more painkillers because the pain won't stop. I throw those up to, I am getting more dehydrated, I start feeling clammy and look paler as the time passes. Over the course of 4 hours, the pain just keeps on getting worse, at this point, I can't even keep down water. I call my cousin for help and she drives me to the ER, this time to a different hospital of her suggestion, Valley Presbyterian. During the drive, I kept running different scenarios in my head, thinking about how I was going to convince the doctors that this time, the pain is serious. I needed them to listen, I needed answers. 

We arrive in the ER at noon, thank god is relatively empty. I get checked right away by the intake nurse, everything is elevated and I am told to come inside immediately. I tell the transport nurse that it is extremely painful to walk, can I please get a wheelchair and he scoffs and says “The room is right across that door”. Great, here we go again. I insist, my cousin insists and we get a wheelchair. A nurse comes in promptly to check me, I explain my symptoms, explain what happened in 2016, she proceeds to check my abdomen and I wince as soon as she touches me. She is visibly concerned as she notes that my stomach is very swollen as well. She says she will get a doctor.

The doctor comes in, asks me the same questions, checks me the same and I am given a bed as they run more tests. I am in the ER, inside and have a bed. I think, Victory! I am given IV fluids because I am extremely dehydrated and also IV painkillers, which they thought would help. They didn't, an hour passes by and my cousin is worried as I am visibly getting worse, I can't hold it anymore, I feel like someone is repeatedly stabbing and twisting my insides with a hot sword. I begin to cry. I tell my cousin to get the nurse, they ignore us for another 30 minutes, I ask for more painkillers, again ignored. An hour and a half pass, I am about to burst, my cousin tells me to just let it out, to wail and scream if I have to. 

I do, I can't hold it anymore, I am sobbing and screaming in pain. The doctor pokes her head out of her office at that same time, my parents return, she is told my family is here and promptly says “Oh I was waiting for her family to show up before we moved her.”. I am 31 years old, she needed to inform no one. I realize they were going to keep me in that bed until the pain went away, I worry that the next nurse or doctor will be dismissive as well. I ready for battle, despite being barely able to speak at this point. I am so weak, I can't even walk, they decide to move my bed to the acute unit. Once there, I finally meet my savior. 

I've been in the hospital for 4 hours now, they give me stronger painkillers, I am so thirsty but am unable to drink water as one of the nurses says “She might go for surgery, we need her to fast.”. At this point my mother is with me, holding my hand and I break down, the painkillers aren't working, I go into shock and repeatedly say ‘Please help me, it hurts’ for what seems like hours. I am deteriorating. The attending nurse comes in and is visibly concerned, he stays by my door as I continue downhills, he orders ultrasounds and Xrays. Here we go again.

I am taken to the ultrasound room, I am crying as the pain of the machine is unbearable, I begin to shake, the technician freaks out. Her superior comes in and does the test himself, pressing way too hard. I can't stand the pain and then he says the magic words “What is this? there a big mass on her left ovary”.I am relieved, finally an answer!, little did I know the seriousness and extent of the issue. I go back to my awesome nurse, he says they need a clearer image of what's going on, at this point, I'm so high, I hardly process what he is saying. He orders an MRI.

After 2-3 hours, I finally get wheeled out to the MRI, I have had so many different bags of painkillers IV, the pain dulls. Cue MRI, the pain soars to new heights again due to the heat the rays. I am back in my room, blood work comes back, I am in Diabetic Ketoacidosis, I'm immediately put in insulin and am so unstable at this point that the nurse request I am moved to the ICU to await the results of the MRI and keep my blood sugars under control. Everything is a whirlwind at this point, it's almost 2am, I haven't slept or eaten but the pain is somewhat controlled and for that I am grateful.

My family is tired and they leave, I am so thankful for their support. The OBGYN doctor shows up, she says “You have a severe ovarian torsion caused by an 8cm tumor in the left ovary. I have never seen anything like this, it is also hemorrhagic and necrotic, we need to remove it.”FINALLY! so it wasn't in my head, this wasn't a pain I could meditate away. This wasn't something that I was exaggerating. I am scheduled for surgery at 5:00am. RELIEF.  

[catbowserauthor]

TMNT MICHELANGELO STORY: A Single Act of Kindness 2

As for the two resident debaters...

“—understandable he’d be upset Raph!”

“Yeah, upset he can’t rub it in our faces anymore!”

“Raph, okay, so he went a little overboard—“

“A little?! He practically married that trophy-“

“BECAUSE IT MEANT I WAS WORTH SOMETHING!”

That shout sent everyone into utter and complete silence. Raph and Leo ceased their yelling and Donnie jerked so fast it was a wonder he didn’t get whiplash. All three of them turning to the source of the shout, their youngest sibling, standing rigid and still, fists clenched and trembling.

“W-what?” Donnie found his voice first. “What the shell do you mean it meant you were “worth something?!” Donnie rarely raised his voice but it was raising now. Unconsciously. He approached and took his younger brother's arm in a vice-like grip. "What do you mean?!"

Mikey finally looked up at them. Much as he wanted to just pretend this conversation never happened, much as he wanted to take back that outburst, it was done. He knew his siblings well enough to know that with something like that out in the open, they would be like little leeches. No getting out of it so just own it.

“Exactly what I said. It meant I was worth something. That I could do something right.” He yanked away from Donnie’s grip and fired at him “You think I don’t know the complete zilch I contribute to this team? Think I don’t see what little good I’m worth compared with all you?!” Don’t cry, he scolded himself. Don’t get emotional, this never ends— “Hard NOT to see it!”

His mouth really needed to start listening to his brain. Why was he doing this? He was the funny one, he was the one that kept everyone else from falling into deep depression. His job was to keep them smiling, no matter what. So, why was he failing so horribly right now? Why did just looking at Donnie and Raph send horrible memories shooting up his spine? Why couldn't he let go of this? It was an award, a position but it was silly for him to connect so much importance to it. It was silly. It was--

“I’m not strong like Raph, I’m not calm-cool-collected Master Ninja like Leo and your smarts make me look like some kind of vegetable Donnie.” He paced, begging his heart to shut up or his mouth to go numb or something but it was like a wound had been cut open. It was bleeding profusely and didn’t look to be stopping. As much as he tried to tell himself that this was silly, that he as overreacting, that he shouldn't have attached so much importance to such a simple competition, his heart had other plans and right now, it was tired of keeping that pain inside and erupted outward with that inner spiritual ache he tried so hard to cover up. “Know what it’s like with three brothers with those kinds of skills hovering over you when you grow up?” Mikey didn’t wait for a response though judging by their dropped jaws, they would have been unable to give one anyway. “I lost count of how many times I got told “why can’t you be more like Leo or Donnie? Heck, few times I needed to show more “passion” like Raph does. So....yeah, the Battle Nexus is stupid. I KNOW that.” Lord did he know that. He had known it for a long time. “You think I don’t know that first time was pure chance? I’m not an idiot!”

Idiot...how many times had he heard that word? How many times had he been called that, directly or indirectly? Did he believe it? Maybe a bit, more than he liked to believe it but on this, he hadn’t been fooling anyone, least of all himself.

“You think I don’t know if Leo had been well I’d have gotten my tail kicked?” He stopped his rapid pacing and locked eyes with his brothers. Theirs were wide and nearly frightened but Mikey's reflected only repressed inner torment finally bubbling to the surface now that it had started coming out, it was like a punch that was thrown. The energy was being unleashed and until it was done, it would not stop. “Or that if Master Splinter hadn’t withdrawn?" A few tears threatened to spill down his face and his voice caught, "And I _KNOW_ if the stupid arena hadn’t been messed with, I woulda lost to Kluh before my courage kicked in. I’m not an idiot!!”

“Mikey.” Donnie finally found his voice and that soothing reassurance spilled out like water. “We know you’re not an idiot.”

“No...just a lazy poor ninja right?” He snapped in response. Why was he getting angry? He’d grown accustomed to this thought about himself so why was it bothering him now? “Just a loud annoyance that slows you down right?” He really needed to stop yelling. Why was he yelling? C'mon mouth, turn off, turn off!

“Mikey!” It was Raph that time and despite the gruff presence that was forever in his tone, there was concern there. Deep rooted concern echoed in his voice and his strong baritone wavered a bit. He had never seen his youngest brother like this. Not ever. Mikey had always been their little bubble of optimism, of joking and if anyone was going to make fun of him, the orange banded turtle usually was best at making fun of himself.

What was this tearful, broken-hearted doubt-filled creature that looked like his little brother?

"Mikey," Raph repeated "I mean...yeah, you can be annoying but that's a little brother's job, right? I mean, heck, even Donnie here gets on my nerves sometimes." He jerked his thumb towards the purple banded turtle and under any other circumstances, Donnie would have sent him a lethal glare but right now, he went along with it. "And ya ain't an idiot."

"No," Mikey fired back. "No, I'm just someone that can't be trusted to come up with any good plans so why ask right? I'm just the one that you just need to figure out the place to shove him so that I don't cause too much damage, right?"

Leo finally spoke out, "Michelangelo, how long have you been keeping this to yourself?" His tone was firm and stern but not unkind. If anything, he looked completely lost. It was a horrible look to see on his face and guilt tore through Mikey's heart. The looks on Raph and Donnie's faces had been hard to take but Leonardo's positively killed him. There was a deepness to his eldest brother's eyes that just sucked you in and there was a vulnerability there that he made it his job to keep at bay but now, Mikey felt he had failed at that.

Just like he failed at most things.

"Doesn't do you Dudes any good to listen to me whine about what can't be changed, does it?" He countered his brother's question without directly addressing the inquiry. "So, I've just gotten used to it." He shrugged "I know I'm not gonna ever match Donnie in smarts or Raph in strength or you, Leo in ninja-ing so I figure if I can keep you all from going all emo on me, then that's good enough." He pulled from Leo's look, remarking "Sometimes all of you fall into that depressive mode so it's my job to keep that from happening. You guys are no fun like that. So, if I can make you laugh and smile, good. And if I do that by being an emotional punching bag, fine." He folded his arms, "Like I said, I've gotten used to it."

Donnie countered "That's not okay, Mikey! I mean, I wouldn't tease you like that if I knew it bugged you but you--"

"You always insult yourself first!" Raph countered. "And now you're standing here and telling us that it bugs ya but that's okay? Make up your damn mind, Mikey!"

"Raph!" Leo snapped but Mikey responded first.

"I tol' ya that it's fine, Raph!" he spat. "I'm used to it! That's my lot I guess," He laughed but it wasn't his usual laugh. There was no humor to it and even when he laughed, tears fell down his face. "I'm never gonna be good enough to match any of you. Even Sensei thinks so..."

"Now you can stop right there!" Donnie snapped, stepping forward. "We don't think that and neither does Sensei--"

"Bull." Mikey snapped back like a serpent. "He does! You all do!"

Leo stepped forward again and took his sibling in a firm grip, "Michelangelo, I don't know where you got it in your head that there's something wrong with you because there's not. You won't match us because you're Michelangelo. Just like we won't match you because we AREN'T you!"

"Thank God for that, right?" He countered and pulled from the grip, stepping to the side "Look, can we just forget this? I got all mad over something stupid. The Battle Nexus is stupid and I shouldn't have said it wasn't..."

Raph reached forward and pulled his brother back, a bit roughly, clamping both hands on his shoulders and shaking him, though lightly "Oh, shell no. We ain't doing that shit." His tone betrayed his deep concern and despite the harshness of his words, there was deep worry in his eyes, "What is it about this title, this Battle Nexus thing that makes you think you're worth something? What is it that the stupid tournament does that all your other talents don't do, huh?" There was desperation in his eyes that his family routinely did not see. "And don't you fucking say you don't have other skills, Mikey! Who's the fastest of us? Who's the most agile? Who's the one who comes up with the most off-the-wall creative ideas, huh?"

"That you don't listen to." Mikey countered. "How many times have ANY of you taken anything I've said in battle seriously? One time? And with a whole lot of incredulous looks at that." He cocked a brow at his brother's surprised look. "Oh, look, Mikey can use big words too." Groaning openly, he griped, head drooped "Look, I dunno what brought this on but can we just forget it, please? You're right, I lost, big deal..."

Donnie walked over and lay a hand on his sibling's shoulder "Well, obviously, to you it's a major deal." He bit his lower lip "Mikey, you said it made you feel like you were worth something. I...you should have felt like that anyway. We need to address this and I know you know it." He eyed him gently "That's why you're shifting between being sad and angry. You do that when you're trying to hide what you think about something--jumping between emotions."

It was something that normally people would dismiss as simply Mikey being hyperactive but his siblings had grown up with him and while Mikey did usually have multiple emotions, if he shifted between polar opposite ones, such as anger and sadness, it meant he was trying to hide something. Donnie found himself looking over the past, the times when Mikey had been calling attention to his victory and...yes, he saw it now that he thought about it. It was subtle but the shift in his eyes should have been obvious. The emotional change. How had they missed that? How had HE missed it?

Raph added as he crossed his arms, "Ya think we don't know that about you now? When Mikey shifts between emotions faster than he flips through commericals, it's because he's trying to cover something damn important." His sharp eyes softened a bit, "Something he shouldn't be."

Cursing his brothers' ability to read him so well as well as the spinning wheels he practically saw in Donnie's eyes, Michelangelo snarled, "Look, I just don't see the point. I've kept this to myself for a long time and--"

"And that's why it's coming out now." Leonardo stated simply. "You suppress anything long enough and eventually it snaps."

Groaning out loud, Michelangelo struck out emotionally, "This is why I came up here! To work through these stupid emotions without drawing you guys into it. I'm being a whiny sore loser, that's all there is to it." He backed p and said "Case closed, book over. Can we please head back down now? We're done. This is done, okay?"

"It's not." Leonardo remarked simply. "You know it and now, so do we. Can you be frank with us, Michelangelo?" He addressed his brother with an elder brother tone as opposed to his "leader" inflection. "The title of Champion obviously carries more weight for you than we knew. You said it made you feel worth something and the way you're talking now...you're totally dismissing anything important you've done as not counting..." Leonardo knew they hadn't helped with their teasing but still, to hear his sibling dismiss all his skills as not being important because they hadn't been utilized...it was haunting.

"Disqualifying the positive." Donatello said softly. "Common thought distortion." He added "And the bragging..."

Raph in particular eyed their genius brother "Somethin' else we shoulda noticed?"

Mikey chimed in before Donnie could answer "Ya did. I'm annoying with that, remember? But it's gotta stop now because I don't have that title anymore and--"

"People with low self esteem will brag and draw attention to themselves because it's the only way they feel they get recognition." Donatello admitted softly, not allowing his youngest brother a chance to divert the topic. He locked eyes with his sibling "We do know we were proud of you for that, Mikey." He was feeling like a broken record but given how they had dismissed it before, it was vital he made it clear they were proud and always had been.

Michelangelo's eyes darkened.

"No you weren't." Mikey's voice broke. It finally broke. "You were surprised. You never thought I would be able to do it. It was dumb luck, emphasis on the dumb part." He shifted his tone and Raphael winced, clearly recognizing the slur he had thrown at Mikey several times. "I should have lost. You thought it, Raphael thought it, Leo thought it. Sensei thought it." He jerked away from Donnie, stepping backward "You made that real clear."

"hey!" Raph cut in, "I mean, yeah, it kinda took us by surprise but.."

"I'm supposed to be the goof off, right?" Michelangelo challenged. "The one that gets into trouble. The one that can't think his way out of a paper bag." He froze there, bit down his emotions though it really was for naught. They were flowing, free as water right now. "You know how much it hurts to hear that from your family?" He managed to get out "With you guys, I expect it. It's a brother-thing. But..." He shook his head and his vision went blurry with tears "Father told me that. Told me that thinking was a "whole new world for me." You know how much that stung?!" He caught surprise in Leonardo's eyes a moment but by now, he was on a roll "I thought when I won the Battle Nexus Tournament, it meant I'd finally get respect from Sensei. That he might finally see that I was just as good...that there was ONE THING I outdid you guys at!"

Everyone had gone quiet.

"I thought if I got Sensei's respect that I might get you guys'." He was nearly sobbing now as much as he fought it. "I didn't though. It didn't change anything. So...I guess, the bragging was...I dunno. I guess I wanted to hear the praise from...someone." He bit his lower lip and dropped his head. "I wanted...needed to hear it. To hear I'd done somethin' right. That I was...capable of something. That's what that title means, okay? It means that I have something to offer, that I'm...that I have worth. I...I know it's a lie. I know that all the circumstances in the world went right for me not once but twice." Shuddering openly, he wanted to disappear, just fade into the earth. "I shoulda lost the second match, the rematch. By all the stupid rules, I should of lost but I didn't. So I _know_ it's a lie. It's a big fat, lie. But...it lets me pretend. I just wanna pretend to be worth something..." He clutched his fists tightly "It let me pretend..."

[fullmetalirin]

Fullmetal Alchemist OG vs. Brotherhood: Izumi (OG 27-28, BH 12)

We’re back to a 2:1 ratio.

Fullmetal Alchemist Episode 27: "Teacher"

Izumi has finally caught up with her wayward protégés, Edward and Alphonse. They have every reason to fear her as she drags them back to Dublith.

Someone is really phoning in these episode summaries.

Short recap of last episode's ending scene. Ed tries to run out the window, but is kicked by Izumi.

Izumi suddenly shifts to extreme politeness when talking to Al, because she doesn't know it's him.

Cartoon face as Al freaks out. I think it's appropriate, this scene is very over-the-top.

We cut to Mustang talking about making his move to Central. It seems like he's still in East City? Is this a flashback?

Izumi and Sig are dining extravagantly while Ed and Al are tied up in the car. LOL.

Flashback to them meeting Izumi. We get the scene from Brotherhood where they're studying human transmutation and won't tell Winry. It's much more appropriate here. Same line about them having stew for supper, so they're still staying under Pinako in this continuity. Also get the line about Ed loving stew.

While Al walks over the bridge, Ed walks on the railing. That's a nice touch.

Al brings up the story of Xerxes while they're studying. Apparently, the story is that the country was consumed in an attempt at human transmutation. Ed dismisses it as a fairy tale.

Winry is scared of the thunder.

Ed uses alchemy to make levees for the river, but it breaks and washes away their transmutation circle. That's a nice detail.

Sweatdrop on the villager when Sig tells him to back off. I don't like.

Izumi shows up to save the day. Ed notices she doesn't use a transmutation circle.

Izumi's performance seems similar in scale to what Ed did in episode 12. The brothers do note it as impressive that she transmuted so much mass at once.

Sig holds an umbrella for her afterwards. That's cute.

Izumi coughing up blood is played for comedy. I think it's appropriate, since this is not only a lighthearted scene but our introduction to her, and it amusingly undercuts her cool image.

Comedy slapstick when the brothers use the honorific for an old woman. She is mollified by a younger one, so it seems like it's a "lol women are sensitive about their age" joke, which I disapprove of.

Cartoon face when Izumi snaps at them for thinking she's a State Alchemist. They say it in regards to her circleless transmutation, so possibly it is a widespread myth that State Alchemists can do that?

Mustang assembles his team. So I guess he flew over to Central for the funeral, then flew back to East City to tie up loose ends? But I thought he already finished his transfer in episode 25.

Izumi's tattoo matches the symbol on Ed's jacket. I guess he got it from her?

Awkward interruption when Winry asks if Izumi has children. Foreshadowing!

A kid tells Izumi to fix his toy with alchemy, but she fixes it through mundane means.

Ed catches the kitten with the same stone-hand technique, though he angles it so the kitten rolls.

When the cat dies, Izumi explains she can't make a life.

Izumi reflects on how hard it is to help children understand death. In flashback, she tells Ed death is part of the flow of the universe, so you can't turn it back.

Izumi figures out Ed saw the Gate of Truth because he didn't use a circle to save the kitten earlier. Perceptive.

Izumi hits Ed so hard she draws blood when he admits to using human transmutation.

Fullmetal Alchemist Episode 28: "One is All, All is One"

Izumi strands Edward and Alphonse on Yock Island, where they originally learned an important life lesson before she took them on as apprentices years before. She wants them to have time to reflect on their mistakes.

That summary basically describes the opening scene. Unlike in Brotherhood, Winry is here. She comments on how mean Izumi is being.

Ed says he can't swim. So then how did he get out of the river in episode 10?

Ed reflects that they're not the same as they were before, which is the segue to the flashback to their first time on Yock Island.

On the ride over, the brothers don't take it seriously. They're playing with the water and calling it a sightseeing tour.

Izumi gives them a knife before departing.

Brothers comically overreact to the alchemy ban.

We cut back to present day, so I guess we'll be cutting back and forth. I can see why some people might not like that, but personally, I think it's really cool. Keeps you on your toes, and interweaves the two narratives instead of just giving you a block of information. It's also quite clever how the present-day scenes match up with the flashbacks; with their easy mastery of these skills in the present, we can see how much they learned back then.

Wrath is hiding in the trees!

In flashback, they were attacked by a guy in a mask their first night.

Ed is actually the more emotional and comedic of the two.

We see alchemy sparks from Wrath. He's wearing clothes – where did he get them?

Al sits in the ocean to pick up fish. That's clever, but seems dangerous – what if he gets water on his bloodseal? Ed also warns him he'll rust, which makes me wonder why that hasn't happened in all these years.

Back in flashback, cartoon skit when they catch the rabbit.

The fox bites into the arm that's automail in the present. I wonder if that was an intentional detail?

In the past, they try to eat mushrooms but get sick.

In the present, Al reflects that everything they're about to do might be a mistake.

Ed gets the epiphany during a fight with the masked man. He sees a dead cicada being decomposed by bugs.

If the masked man was meant to keep them alive why was he beating them up and stealing their food?

We end with Wrath appearing.

FMA Brotherhood Episode 12: "One is All, All is One"

Edward and Alphonse visit their master Izumi and her husband Sig seeking clues on the philosopher's stone. During their stay, the Elric brothers recall how they first met Izumi during a flooding in Resembool, and how they were formally accepted as Izumi's disciples after she stranded them on an island for a month as a test. They look back at how they figured out the meaning behind "one is all, all is one". Izumi realizes that the Elric brothers attempted human transmutation by their movements during hand-to-hand combat training. Realizing that they had attempted human transmutation Izumi tells the Elrics that she had also broke the taboo to bring back her baby who died during childbirth. The three make up, bonding over the hardships that they had suffered from their attempts at human transmutaton.

No alchemy opening. I guess it changes depending on whether they need to fill time.

We open with Ed flashing back to Hoenheim for no reason. I… guess this is the first time we've seen Hoenheim's face, and that's something we need to know when we see Father in a few episodes.

The Elrics meet Sig first. Cartoon where they're nervous.

There's no amusing bit with them mistaking Al for someone else, he just introduces himself immediately.

Al blushes because this is the first time he's had his head patted since he became armor. That's cute.

Izumi is in bed because she's ill. Ed assumes she hasn't gotten any better, and is cut off with a kick to the face when Izumi opens the door.

Izumi's face is in cartoon shadow.

Izumi insists she's fine, then comically vomits blood, followed by cartoon shift. I do not like.

Cartoon when Izumi hugs Sid. Ed is physically bopped by the hearts, which is funny.

The Elrics go straight to asking Izumi about the Stone.

Izumi says Hoenheim knows about the Stone. Ed gets mad and we get a flashback to Hoenheim leaving. We do actually get some of the scenes from OG 03, but we end with them seeing Trisha collapsed.

They have the same conversation about delivering a baby, but it's more natural since it just happened in this continuity. Sig looks upset at the end.

Similar scene with the levee, but the Elrics don't try to help first.

Now, since I've seen a post circulating about this, I'd like to compare some shots here. In OG:

In Brotherhood:

I'm not saying they purposefully chose to focus on her boobs in Brotherhood. It is entirely possible that they just wanted to do the cool zooming shot and accurately surmised that her hands were the most relevant point of focus. The clap does cover up her breasts quite adequately, which I’d show if I knew how to make gifs. But the fact remains that where in OG we focus on her face, in BH we focus on her chest with her head cut off. I know this is nitpicky; God knows there is so, so much worse to complain about in anime as a whole, and this anime in particular. But if you guys are gonna write essays about how Brotherhood is God's gift to feminism because it's so good at depicting boobs, I'm gonna expect you to hold it to higher standards.

Izumi coughing up blood is still comedic, but there's more blood and we spend longer time on it, which pushes it too far for me.

Izumi doesn't get taken to a doctor; the Elrics ask to be her pupil then and there. So we’re taking her illness less seriously in that aspect as well; it’s not actually debilitating. She punches them away with alchemy.

We get the same joke where she's offended they called her old.

Rest of the scene is similar, but random dude tells her they're orphans instead of Pinako. There's also no bit about sending them back if they fail their provisional training, Ed saying that won't happen, etc.

We jump straight to Yock Island. Brothers' reaction is much more over-the-top. She throws the knife to them instead of giving it.

During the flashback we get a cut back to Izumi. Sig worries the kids will die and Izumi says they'll be fine. This doesn't seem necessary. All it shows is that she somehow didn't realize the possibility kids can die if you throw them into the wilderness for a month.

Scene with the rabbit and fox is similar, but Ed doesn't get attacked.

The brothers complain about not having any fishing rods, and appear to give up on that avenue.

Ed sees Al as meat and tries to eat him. Then Ed sees ants as chocolates and starts eating them. This is how he gets the epiphany: he realizes he's alive because he eats things. I dunno, I think OG's version was more thematically appropriate to the theme of accepting death.

There's like… a clip show? when he realizes this. Unnecessary and weird.

They make… leaf capes? That’s so silly.

They feed the fox cubs when they beg for food.

Then we get the flashback to their fighting training with Izumi, but it's more cartoony. It gets an additional scene where they ask how Izumi can transmute without a circle, and she says her own body is a matrix that can invoke the circle's power. Back in the present, Ed realizes from remembering this that she must have seen the Gate as well.

Similar scene where she realizes they did human transmutation, but she only focuses on the fact Ed saw the Gate. She isn't angry at them for trying it. She then confesses, and we get a flashback to her own attempt.

Ah, the reason she tried it was because she had a lot of trouble conceiving in the first place. So she probably thought this was her only shot.

The brothers try to act like their losses haven't affected them, but we get the same hugging scene and they break down.

Conclusion

The content is pretty similar this time, but as per usual, I prefer OG's execution. I feel like we get a better grasp on Izumi's character by seeing both her menacing behavior towards the brothers and her kindness towards the villagers. I also like the technique of sending the brothers back to Yock Island in the present to segue us into the flashback.

OG also plugs the plot hole of how Izumi was planning to keep two children alive in the wilderness, and also how she could possibly know whether or not they adhered to the alchemy ban. Unfortunately, in doing so it introduces the plot hole that the guy should not have been directly interfering with them, and his presence does rather undermine the "learn from nature" idea.