#this medication literally changed my life ive been doing shit i never would have been able to do before

[hackfurs]

i feel bad about all the people who don't message me anymore because i was in my turbo flop era back then and they caught the ick

[confessions-into-the-void]

The fun thing about my life right now is I'm finally coming off of the SNRI I never wanted to be in in the first place. I tried one, it didn't work and was sooooo close to being done with it when my doctor convinced me to try a similar one. The side effects were worse than the first one and by this time I knew how bad withdrawals were, so I put up with it. Until now. Until I couldn't handle it anymore and here I am. It has been almost a week since I've had this medication in my system and holy shit.

Last night was probably one of the worst brain nights I've had in a very very long time. I am usually so good at stopping and correcting myself when I start getting into negative self talk, but last night I couldn't.

It went on and on, just thinking the most absolutely horrible things about myself. I couldn't stop it, I couldn't get my brain to shut up and I had to just lie there and take it.

During all of that, something changed inside me. While yes, those thoughts were so awful and not true, it also made me realize that maybe it's time for a change.

I have spent every year since I lost *soul pet* desperately just trying to survive. I feel like every time I take a few steps, I fall back even more. I lost access to a lot of my *healthy* coping mechanisms and have resorted to the unhealthy ones. I lost such a big part of my identity and my purpose when he left. I went from taking care of someone 24/7, distracting me from taking care of myself, to only having to take care of myself in a blink of an eye. I don't know how to positively take care of myself. I only know how to pretend and how to survive.

Since then I have gone through so many medication changes, so many doctors and therapists and Ive made some improvement, but I'm still falling short.

I was doing so good for so long. I was getting my body healthy, I was going out more often, spending time with the music that lead me to this city. I was so close to thriving, even though I didn't know how I was doing it.

And then last year happened. It was a whirlwind of disasters over and over. I didn't think I would ever feel the pain like I did in that one year again, but I did. I went from being almost on top of the world after my first round of TMS and traveling and smiling and making plans

To this.

To the hole I've ended up in now. Last year I lost my oldest friend. Someone that saved my life more times than I could count. Someone who stayed my friend every time I fell for the lovebombing. Someone who was such a big part of who I am. I could not have been *performer name* without him by my side, cheering me on, capturing the moments in photos, lugging my ass around from show to show, dragging my ass to other states. I was so far out of my shell because of him.

And I never got to tell him.

I don't know how to show positive emotions to people. I don't know how to tell people how important they are to me. I sure as hell wish I did.

Over time, we grew apart as I moved away, but he was always the one reminding me of the literal children we were when we met. My mostly uninked skin, before a lot of the pain and trauma. All of my other friends just kinda fell away over time. But not him.

And then he left. Life got too much and he couldn't do it anymore. And while I respect his choice so much, it doesn't change the fact that it sucks. I'm not trying to make his death about me, but moreso talk about the parts of me that died with him.

In just a few years, my whole identity was stripped away from me because the universe is cruel and we're all at its mercy. I tried to rebrand. I tried to be reborn, but *my name* just never quite felt right.

I don't know if anything will ever feel right again

During this time of trying to figure out feelings and handle my pain and grief, my health was put on the back burner entirely. I went from eating healthy, to desperately choking down sweets or chips in an effort to just *feel* something other than the gut wrenching despair I was going through. My body is the absolute worst it's ever been, and it's cycling.

I am always a huge believer in fat positivity because no one should have to hate themselves because of their size, their stretch marks, their shape. Everyone deserves to love themselves as they are. Everyone should be allowed to do what feels best for them. So what if someone diets religiously to have the best nutrients? So what if someone eats what they want because it's good? Because life is too short to not enjoy food. So what if someone is desperate to just feel something?

And I try to love my body for what it is, all of it. I try to allow it to do what it is going to do and not dwell on it. I try to allow myself to enjoy me as who I am now, and not compare myself to the unhealthy 20 something year old I used to be. And overall I do pretty ok at that.

The problem lies in the operation of my body. It fucking hurts. Everything fucking hurts all the damn time. My knees give out, my tendons click and slide around. Elbows lock up, ribs shift, sternum gets wonky, jaw locks for months on end. And these are things I've always had some sort of issue with, but I can't deny that my body is struggling to support itself and it sucks.

I'm trying to find a healthy place where I can focus on the physical aspects of my health that I haven't been able to focus on because my mental health screams so loud, but also not go overboard where it becomes my identity and I become hooked on the feeling when I watch my body change. I've gone through that before, and thankfully I have always been able to recognize when it starts to become obsessive. There's an addictive high involved in dieting and exercise. Getting "in shape" sometimes feels like going to a casino for me, and my gosh, I am the type of person who should never ever step foot inside one of those.

It becomes a feeling I can't control and the numbers take over my brain and I rabidly drool over the clothes I can now fit in. And then

And then it becomes a game. How far can I take this?

I've taken it pretty far, and when I hit double digits, it still wasn't good enough. It was never good enough. It became my life, my goal, my mission and I cared about nothing else.

It was never about control for me

It was always an obsession with winning. Breaking records, creating new ones. How close could I get to disappearing.

I'd flaunt myself as if I liked the way I was. I hated it. I've never been happy with it (although, I'd kill to be as "fat" as I thought I was back then. Everything was such a mask while I drooled over the numbers on a scale that meant more to me than pretty much anything else.

And I sit here, feeling the aches in my bones, the stain in my muscles doing the jobs of the other parts that hold a body together. I feel the struggle to tie my shoes, to fit in my clothes. I feel all the problems and pain I put off to tend to the grief that needed my attention more.

I have harmed my body while trying to fix my mind.

I can't do this anymore.

I miss me

Not the size of who I used to be

But the things I used to be able to do.

I miss the hours of dancing without my heels throbbing

I miss being happy in the clothing I wear

I miss utilizing the closet I so carefully curated to become something that represented me

I miss not hurting this bad

I need to make change.

The words in my brain have made me really face the elephant in the room. I cannot go on living like this.

I deserve for my body to feel the best it can.

But how?

How do I retrain myself to enjoy things that will be beneficial for things other than taste? How do I find a way to get the dopamine rush I need without choking down a chocolate bar in the middle of the night? How do I cope and grieve without filling my mouth with taste just to distract me from reality?

How the fuck do I change?

I am to the point now where I'm not sure I really like any aspect of myself.

I mean yeah, I'm a lot kinder now than I used to be. I'm thoughtful and caring and funny and resourceful

But im also insecure, competitive, obsessive, awkward. I struggle to exist within my own body and mind.

Where do I begin?

I've always sneered at the people who are like "new year, new me" as if some kind of arbitrary date actually means anything more than a new calendar and having to hit all your deductibles again.

I think I understand it now. I need time to be ready. I need time to plan and to really comprehend what I want, why I want it, and how I'm gonna make it happen. I have to nap out the most healthy ways for both my brain and body to move forward. I have to figure out how to care for myself in a way I never really have.

I'm probably not alone in this.

Plus, with a whole shift in my diet, I gotta get the binging out of my system (not literally of course).

I have to fully settle on the mindset that I do not care about what I look like. I do not care about the physical changes in my body and how small the numbers can go. I have to find a focus beyond that. I have to find some sort of measurable *thing* where I can see progress, but isn't going to send me spiraling down to eating just one small bag of chips all day while working a labor intensive job. I also have to figure out how to make the time to make my body move. I have to figure out how to navigate around the first while while these bones and joints and muscles get used to being put under even more pressure, to eventually have pressure taken off. I have to go into this knowing that for a while it's going to fucking suck. I'm going to fucking hurt and I'm going to need rest days and I need to figure out how to balance not sending myself into a flare but also pushing myself to keep improving

I am no longer the person I used to be

I don't want to be the person I am now

If I can't ki11 my body, I can at least erase the parts I hate. I can morph myself like putty into something I can learn to love

I can create the 2.0 version of myself

I can make them and shape them

But most importantly

I can love them

(I feel like this post is probably the closest one I have where people can figure out who I am, but like if somehow one of my IRL acquaintances do figure it out: no you didn't. You will pretend you never read any of these words and honestly maybe even pretend you don't know me)

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent / personal / s.i. / sh mention / long post / extremely negative dont read

I rly wanna fucking stop existing man life is too fucking hard I cant do this shit

My grandpa basically blamed me for the house's electricity usage when i literally only used my computer for one week last month and like 2 days this month. Anything else this month has just been phone charging or running my 2 small aquariums. Idk why i have to take the blame for that just because im a young person when my grandpa literally has been using large machinery in the garage and we rent out our guest house which has an a/c unit running ALL the time (our house does not have a/c or any internal system. Utilities are included in the guest house we rent so we pay for that person to stay cool while we sweat over here lmao.)

Ive been suffering for weeks in the 90-100 degree weather with no fan because my bathroom flooded due to grandpa installing the wrong fixture in my toilet (i literally only needed to replace the flap which required no disconnections! But he insisted, and now my only clean fan has been stuck in my bathroom with the window open letting in all the heat). Like. I enjoy the heat. Im fine with no ac. I tolerate it fine. But i need an occasional few minutes of being in the fan if the windows have been letting in all the heat. Normally id keep my blinds closed and the shower curtain closed so the heat doesnt get extreme but because i need to air out the bathroom i cant do that ((Literally when i lived in nyc w no ac, i would just go out to the living room and turn a/c on for like 1 minute while i stand in front of it, and then off again and i was fine for the rest of the night, i cant sleep with ac or a fan on or else i get hypothermic - i actually started getting hypothermic the other night because my blankets fell off the bed on a cooler night, it sucked lol))

Im so sick of having to wear shoes in my bathroom due to the carpet being pulled back, its uncomfortable to traverse that mess while having an injured back. Im sick of all the wildfire ash thats poured into my bathroom and probably my room too. (I had JUST changed my last air filter the day before the fire started lmao probably used up the whole thing already, i never got to keep my clean air room i had just started).

I had to deep clean the kitchen and deep vacuum the entire house with my back thats been injured since MAY since grandpa wont clean up after himself, and apparently my mom has also not been cleaning for years in her room (and my mom has the nerve to judge me for having a clean but cluttered room! Its her fault its cluttered because im not allowed to have anything of mine except food downstairs!). I havent been able to get treatment for my back because my mom has the only car and shes been out of town for the past month+.

Im fucking scared as fuck because i couldnt get ahold of a doctors office for a prescription for my endo and so now ive been having to take the leftovers i had of a lower dose. I live in a dead zone so a lot of the time i cant make phonecalls, idk if the issue was my end or the doctors and im just too stressed to try again bc if i think ab endo im gonna have a mental breakdown, its already bad enough having EXTREME phone anxiety due to not being able to understand people when they talk especially over a garbled phone connection. Im supposed to quit this med at the end of the month and idk how im gonna survive. I might not. I was completely su// ici// dal during the last couple flare ups. Endo is incurable and apparently im resistant to medication and surgical treatment. So its untreatable for me too.

Then theres my whole depression. This just fucking kicked off a really terrible mood swing and ive been like crying and moping in bed for hours trying NOT to think about where i know the things i used to s.h. before are packed. Bc that hasnt ever stopped being on my fucking mind since before i even started as a teen lmao. I cant stop thinking about how im existing against my will. Theres just no good way to die. Id feel guilty too because of how expensive my jaw treatments are and i havent even finished.

Speaking of, my jaw is still fucked and not getting any better lmao. Im in constant pain and headaches because of the aligners on my teeth. Im making myself sick from eating depression foods because by the time i take the things off my teeth to eat and drink, my mouth hurts, my jaw hurts, my head hurts, my tummy hurts, and after i eat anything i feel sick and tired and lightheaded from not being able to snack or drink when i want at my own pace, and then suddenly having to eat a whole meals worth of food in one sitting. (Not that i do that lmao ive been eating really lightly bc i am not physically up to the task of cooking or eating anything. I CAN cook. Just not physically, or mentally any more). So ive been eating terribly within my already limited diet. (And my jaw wont stop popping and cracking painfully every time i chew anything which is so humiliating and frustrating and painful and i cant eat a lot of foods i used to.)

There just too much going on all at once and im fucking sick of everything. I was already at my fucking limit before my mom fucked off to do pet sitting for a relative and went back on her word that she'd bring the dog to stay at our house. Which means ive gone since May without treatment for my back except for the chiropractor i see right after my therapy appointment. Which i dont think is doing enough. I dont know what more can be done when i constantly have to do back breaking things around the house. And when i told my mom ab how im not able to get the care i need because of her leaving, she turned it on me and said it was my fault for not making an appointment. Fucking gaslighting asshole. How the fuck am i supposed to get to an appointment 30-40 minutes away when i dont have the car? (Because theres no where local that will take my insurance, and i dont think even the places 30-40 minutes away will take it either.)

I dont know how anyone manages to live. Just existing is constant pain due to fibromyalgia and arthritis. Its constant hypervigilance and fear from the endo. Its extreme treatment-resistant depression (i fucking wish antidepressants worked on me lmao but that was the most miserable 5 years of my life trying every class of them). Its gender dysphoria and i cant transition because i cant work or live independently (its not safe for me to come out or transition while living in grandpas house hed kick me out). Its loneliness because i have like 2 friends i occasionally talk to online but no one close and were not on the same circles even, not like i even have a stable internet connection to do anything more than just over messaging. I dont have the mental energy to be friends w anyone either bc i have nothing to offer. Existing while alive is a full time job with no pay or benefits. I dont even know anyone irl thats not relatives (im not close with anyone in my family at all) or a doctor. I dont have a license or car because family wouldnt let me practise when i did have permits and i certainly can't afford the $12k a year it costs to own a car in Cali, let alone to purchase one. I cant work but im not disabled enough to be legally disabled. Certainly wouldnt be able to afford to live in this area/county even if i could do some work beyond an occasional online resale, which sucks because this is where my tribe is and i just wish this area was a better fit for me. Just doing things around the house is what caused my back to go out in the first place and now its a chronic fucking issue, and i can barely walk to the mailbox or do grocery shopping. Its not safe for me to live alone either, probably, even tho i cant handle living with roommates because im too asocial for them.

Im so sick of everything. Why do i have to be blamed for the electricity. Im an artist and apparently using the skills i spent 4 years learning at college and countless hours improving on my own is using too much electricity if i turn on my computer to participate in a week of a drawing challenge. What if i had a fucking work from home job?? (Not like that would ever happen, grandpa wouldnt choose the cheaper and faster internet plan i told him to go with and instead chose a more expensive plan with a different company that has a data cap, so now it sucks for no reason other than that he doesnt want to take advice from either a woman or a young person! [Im not a woman but he doesnt know that]). I cant even try to apply for any kind of work from home job bc of the internet. Its hard enough trying to make a call over data, having to put it on speakerphone and reach my phone against my room window while i lean over the counter. I was already unemployed before the pandemic due to the same mental health issues i havent stopped suffering from.

I wish that i wanted to live and do better for myself but whats the fucking point any more. I dont even want to live. I have no fucking reason to. At all. Im only alive bc there's no good way to die. Every day i think about how much i wish i didnt exist. It sucks and theres no fucking treatment that works. Therapy probably helps but its not making improvements for me when there are too many things out of my control making my life completely fucking miserable, its just damage reduction at this point.

I even exercise. Often. Despite the pain in my back and everywhere else. It does not help when i have fibromyalgia. Im in extreme pain even with the lightest exercise. But ive been exercising since the last endo flare up in fucking march in the hopes itll make my next endo flare up a little less worse if im stronger. Who knows if its working. Guess ill find out after the end of this month. God im so fucking scared.

I dont want to do anything rn im just so fucking miserable. But now my room is heating up since its the end of the day and im sweating too much to keep lying in bed being miserable. Idk what im gonna do. Besides ignore the ideation and knowledge about where my sharp objects are. I was working on sewing but i lost steam because of grandpa blaming me for the electricity sending me down a spiral. As if im not already doing enough cleaning up the whole fucking house and trying to prevent mold growth from the leak he caused and then laughed it off and wouldnt help me move (not my) furniture to prevent water damage.

Fuck i still have to measure the carpet padding so i can buy more later. At least the carpet itself is safe. Its getting dark out and i threw that padding shit outside and forgot about it last week so i dont wanna deal with measuring that right now. Ugh.

What do i even do when im too fucking depressed to do anything at all?? No one fucking prepares you for how fucking miserable being alive actually is.

[bleuberrygliscor]

look not to be that bitch. but i spent years of my life in therapy.

i spent years doing things, reading books, trying to fucking fix my own brain due to my body's really cool way of building up tolerance to my medications. Flip flopping between drugs, between therapists, between group therapy locations, between coping mechanisms both "healthy" and "wildly fucking harmful".

i spent blood, money, and tears on CBT (Cognitive behavioral therapy) because the years of talk therapy i did never helped me heal (and im sure my therapist that i lovingly refer to as Miss M got tired of watching me trigger myself trying to explain my fucked up brain). and Neither of those things worked for me. it was fucking crushing going to group, week after week, and watching people who lost spouses, lost jobs, actively threatened to kill themselves, get better and stop coming. to attend an anxiety group session only to have the therapist attempt to remodel one of the exercises in real time due to me being unable to close my eyes for more than a minute, playfully commenting about me cracking the arm of the plastic chair from gripping it so tightly. to watch a rotating cast for almost a year, and still be the only one left, passing them on the way to the pharmacy on the first floor and hearing that they've been doing better. the pure jealousy in watching people who were, by all accounts, fucking worse than me, recovering and yet here i was, getting some other ssri to try for the next six weeks and hope my manic episode doesnt freak out my friends.

but i figured out something recently.

i have been journaling for years, since 2002, very infrequently, at the behest of my second therapist. he suggested that writing things down would be best for me. He was very fucking wrong. i hated doing it. it just made me feel worse, lamenting my dull life, tired of writing that i did the same 3 things again today (went to school - did homework - slept). so i joined journaling subreddits and communities later on, and to the surprise of no one i hated it even more with the added competition from people who wrote nicer than i did, took better notes, led interesting lives, when my highlight was "i downloaded an mp3 from mp3bee today and i didnt get rickrolled :D". but this month (literally the last 3 days) ive been scrapbooking instead. and not just that, I've not even been talking about the nothing that i do, literally today was a nightvale quote, and im excited to do something tomorrow.

This is a really long fucking tangent, but my point is that i spent years trying to be everyone else, trying to do the shit that works for other people, and never doing the shit that works for me. fuck i didnt even know it worked for me until Tuesday of this fucking week.

Maybe opening a window, or changing you pjs doesnt help you, but something out there will. youre worth the time it takes to find it.

[anotherkpopvictim]

Broken But Healing - Hoseok X BTS Littlespace Drabble

“Imogen asked: I’d love little Hobi being really unwell (maybe even a hospital trip) and just being taken care of by the rest of the members.”

A/N: First of all, thank you so much for requesting! I changed it slightly to an injury sending Hobi to the hospital instead of an illness or something. I hope I did your request justice.

Second, I am so sorry for posting this literally months after you requested it. Sometimes life just doesn’t bring me the will or inspiration to write, but I finally got it finished in a way that I liked.

Relationship: Little!Hoseok X Caregivers!BTS

Rating: G

Words: 2114

Hurt/comfort, fluff

DISCLAIMER: I don’t know shit about medical stuff so I’m sorry if it’s inaccurate but I tried my best.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Hoseok knew that going into a career that involved dancing meant having sore feet all the time and countless other injuries. It was unavoidable. He’d been lucky enough in his thirteen years of dancing not to have done anything severe. He’d never even broken a bone before.

However, there was a first time for everything.

All the BTS members and staff were gathered together in the rented performance hall, polishing everything up for the online concert they were going to be having in just a few weeks’ time.

Hoseok made a simple misstep while going through the choreography and his foot missed the stage, instead plunging him off of the rather high platform they were on.

As the lead dancer felt the breath knock out of him and an excruciating pain running up his left leg, he could hear the distant-sounding calls of his bandmates.

“Hoseok-ah!”

“Hyung!”

Namjoon was the first one to reach him, followed quickly by the other members and some of their staff. The leader had wide, concerned eyes as he kneeled next to Hoseok’s collapsed form. “Hobi-hyung, can you hear me?”

There were a few startled gasps and a couple swear words from the others, but Hoseok could barely focus on anything other than Namjoon’s face, the floaty feeling in his head, and the sudden numbness in his whole body.

“Hobi-hyung,” Namjoon repeated, trying his best to keep his voice calm.

Hoseok swallowed, “J-Joonie?” his tone was soft and airy, instantly giving away his little headspace. “H-Hobi f-fell.”

Namjoon, who immediately crowded in closer when he realized the other was in littlespace, took his hand and smiled sadly. “I know you did, baby. It was a pretty bad fall.”

Seokjin came into his view, immediately taking up Hoseok’s other hand. “Can you tell hyungs how you’re feeling, sweetheart?”

“I-It hurt before, but the pain went away now,” Hoseok replied softly.

Seokjin and Namjoon shared a concerned look between them at that.

Before anything else could be said, Jimin appeared at Hoseok’s head, upside down in his vision. “Baby, it looks like you’re gonna get to ride in an ambulance today, isn’t that cool?”

“Am-bu-ance,” Hoseok sounded out, eyes widening. “B-But the pain is gone. Hobi doesn’t need help.”

“Your leg is hurt, honey,” Seokjin said, kissing the little’s knuckles in comfort. “A doctor needs to look at it.”

Hoseok whined, looking between his three bandmates. “H-Hurt? I-Is it bad?”

There was a silence before Jimin smiled at him, though even upside down it looked more like a wince. “It’s pretty bad, baby.”

Almost instinctively, Hoseok lifted his head to glance down at his legs but was stopped by his three boyfriends pushing him back and shaking their heads frantically at him.

“No, don’t get up, sweetheart,” Seokjin said, a strained smile on his lips. “Don’t look at it.”

“Just look at us,” Jimin added, running his fingers through Hoseok’s disheveled dark locks.

Hoseok was so distracted and out of it that he barely noticed when the paramedics arrived, nor when they stabilized his leg. He frowned when he was lifted onto a gurney and the world began flying by. He immediately missed the warmth of Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jimin’s hands on him.

Yoongi came into his view before he could whine in displeasure, running a hand through the younger’s hair before they lifted him into the ambulance. The eldest rapper hopped in after him and sat next to him as the vehicle started up.

“I’m right here, Hobi-ah. Hyung’s right here, love,” Yoongi assured him.

A few seconds went by (or a few minutes - Hoseok’s mind was getting too fuzzy to understand time properly) before the younger spoke up. “H-Hyungie, don’t feel good.”

“I know you don’t, bub,” Yoongi replied softly. “It’ll be okay, though. I promise.”

Hoseok didn’t get to hear anymore before he fell completely into unconsciousness, but the older man’s words made him feel more at ease.

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

“How is he?” Jungkook stood up abruptly in the private waiting room as Yoongi walked in. Jimin put a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle tug so he would sit back down.

Yoongi sighed, “He passed out on the way here. The paramedics said it was from shock but his vital signs were normal, if a bit elevated but they said it was to be expected. They just took him into the operating room so I had to leave him.”

“Did they say anything about how badly his leg was broken?” Namjoon asked worriedly.

Yoongi shook his head and sunk into Taehyung’s lap, who wasted no time wrapping his arms around his hyung.

Being a dancer and just an active person in general, all of them were worried about how long this injury was going to affect their boyfriend and how he would get through it.

It felt like forever before the doctor finally came into the room, a small smile on his lips. “Jung Hoseok is doing alright,” he said before anything else. The man was on the shorter side and probably in his late forties, a pair of black-framed glasses sitting on his nose. Dr. Song was one of the doctors that frequently tended to the BTS members, so it was nice to see a familiar face.

All six of them were on their feet and anxiously awaiting what the doctor would say next.

The man took a deep breath and glanced down at his file. “Hoseok-ssi suffered an impacted fracture of his left fibula and caused some damage internally, but nothing major was disrupted. Thankfully, he only has two hairline fractures in his tibia that should heal within a few weeks.”

They all let out a simultaneous sigh of relief; at least Hoseok hadn’t broken both leg bones.

“And the operation went alright?” Seokjin asked.

Dr. Song nodded, “Smooth sailing. He’ll be in a cast for about eight or nine weeks. After that, with some physical therapy, he should be back to dancing by the beginning of next year.”

“That’s good to hear,” Jimin said with a smile. “Thank you so much for everything, Dr. Song.”

The man smiled back at him. “No need to thank me. I can take you to him now if you’d like, though he is still unconscious at the moment.”

The six of them eagerly followed the doctor through the maze of hallways until they reached a room marked with ‘Private Room #7’ written on it in clear, bold letters.

“He should be awake within the hour but he’ll probably be out of it for a good while after that. We’ve given him some medication for the pain and judging by the notes on his file that says he’s sensitive to drugs, he’ll most likely be a bit loopy.” Dr. Song explained as he led them into the private room.

The room itself was fairly large and had a sofa and a few chairs around for seating. Dr. Song moved to pull aside a curtain that revealed Hoseok laying on the hospital bed. He only had an IV in his hand and a heartrate monitor over his left pointer finger. They observed their boyfriend’s paler than normal complexion but peaceful face as he slept.

“I’ll come back in a little while with some prescriptions to help with his pain,” Dr. Song gave a quick smile and bow which the boys all returned before the man left the room.

As soon as the doctor had disappeared, all six pairs of eyes were back on their boyfriend’s unconscious form and a silence fell over the room for a few minutes.

“He’s not going to be happy when he wakes up to find himself in the hospital,” Yoongi commented.

Jimin hummed in agreement, “He hates hospitals.”

They all knew how much of an understatement that was. Hoseok had a huge phobia of hospitals. Thankfully, their private room was fairly comfortable and homey, only the IV and monitor giving an indicator it was a hospital room at all.

“Do you think he’ll be Little?” Seokjin asked.

“Hard to say for sure,” Namjoon replied. “Though I think he might slip pretty quickly even if he wakes up Big.”

Jungkook was the one that looked away from Hoseok long enough to realize that they were kind of just creepily standing around his bed, hovering over him. “I think we’ll scare him if he wakes up and sees us like this.”

They went about gathering some chairs and along with the couch in the room, there was enough seating for all of them.

Taehyung was leaning on his hand as he watched Hoseok once more. He pouted and sighed, “I feel bad for hyung. I hope his leg will heal alright.”

Yoongi reached over from his seat to ruffled Taehyung’s hair, a fond smile on his lips. “We’ll do everything we can to help him, and we can hope.”

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

Hoseok blinked his eyes open, though they felt like they were weighed down by lead. He was met with the sight of a white ceiling and tan walls and unmistakable machinery beside him, and his six boyfriends scattered around the room.

Namjoon and Jimin were curled up together in a comfy chair on the right side of the bed Hoseok was on, fast asleep. Yoongi and Jin were slumped together on a couch a few feet away from the end of the bed, also fast asleep.

The only two who seemed to be awake were the maknaes. Taehyung and Jungkook were both seated on a chair together on Hoseok’s left, speaking softly with each other. When they caught sight of Hoseok’s open eyes they sat up straighter and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Hyung!” Jungkook blurted out.

Taehyung immediately shushed him, “Don’t wake the others.” Then he turned back to Hoseok with that gentle, boxy smile of his. “I’m so glad you’re awake, hyung. You really scared us earlier.”

Hoseok blinked at them, still trying to put the puzzle pieces of what had happened together. He was in a hospital - that much he had gathered - but the why was what he didn’t know.

Jungkook seemed to read his mind and said softly, “You had an accident during our concert rehearsal earlier.”

Oh, now he remembered.

Hoseok’s face paled and his eyes widened as his mind replayed the horrible experience. Tears welled up in his eyes before he could stop them, and he sniffled loudly. “H-Hobi gots hurt!” he managed out with a scratchy voice.

Jungkook instantly got up and hurried out of the room to get him a cup of water, while Taehyung’s face softened at Little Hobi. “You did, bub.” He replied, taking one of Hoseok’s hands into his own. “But you’re going to be just fine. Do you hurt at all right now, sweetheart?”

Hoseok shook his head and Taehyung smiled, relieved.

Jungkook returned with a large Styrofoam cup of iced water. He held it out and positioned the straw for Hoseok to take a sip. The cool water instantly helped the dryness in his throat.

“D-Does...” Little Hobi started, “Does Hobi have booboos?”

Taehyung and Jungkook shared a glance before Taehyung answered, “Yeah, baby. You broke your leg, but the doctor fixed it up in a cast so it can heal quickly.”

Hoseok let out a little whine as he looked at his legs, obscured from his view by a mountain of blankets (Seokjin’s doing probably). One leg was obviously larger than the other because of the cast, but at least he wasn’t in any pain.

“Hobi hyu- I mean, Hobi love,” Jungkook said, grabbing his attention once more. “I got some colorful markers from the nurses,” he held up a small bag of markers that Hoseok had missed, “I thought maybe we could draw pretty things all over your cast to help it get better. What do you think?”

Hoseok’s eyes widened and he smiled, tiredly but happily. “Yes, yes! Please Kookie. Please Taehyungie! Draw pretty pictures, please!”

The two maknaes chuckled fondly. Taehyung nodded, “Of course, love.”

Hoseok wasn’t so scared when Jungkook maneuvered the blankets off of his left leg and revealed the bulky cast covering most of his leg. It looked too plain, but Taehyung and Jungkook quickly worked to fix that by covering it in a variety of colors.

Hoseok giggled as the other two bickered about their drawings, feeling the last of the absolute fear he’d felt earlier leave him completely. He was still uncomfortable in the hospital, his fear ever lingering, and he was even more scared about his leg healing, but he knew he had his six boyfriends right by his side (quite literally, right now) who would help him through the tough weeks to come.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A/N: Fun fact: I have never broken a bone before so I don’t know actually know what it feels like. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it!!

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

I Don’t Think You’re An Angel (Anymore)

A Lewis Nixon x OFC One Shot

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Thank you to @basilone​ @softspeirs​ and @mercurygray​ for all your help on this! I am much happier with how it turned out thanks to y’all’s suggestions :)

Warning(s): Some suggestive language, but that’s about it

***

Her father once told her that nursing would make her feel fulfilled. It would get her back on her feet after such tragedy struck. Nothing healed like giving back and healing others, he said. Especially after downing whiskey and kissing strangers didn’t work, she thought. 

It did the trick, to be sure. Nursing school was rigorous, but it taught her a lot about herself. She met some of her greatest friends there, and new connections soothed the ache from the burn of the ones she lost. With a new support system, she wearily clawed her way out of the ashes of her grief, and stood up again. And when the war came, she and thousands like her were able to charge into the fray. 

But the last thing Bonnie wanted now was to be on her feet - in a much more literal sense. The Austrian sun shone outside, calling to her, coaxing her to come out and warm her face and rest her sore feet. But she didn’t have a day off for another two days. And after almost eight hours at the hospital, there were still more patients to check on before she could clock out. She felt that familiar throb in her heels as she headed into the next ward. 

Shit.

There he stood. The man she once knew as Lewis Nixon, but for many years, only referred to as “The Worst Mistake I Ever Made.”

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

He was coming closer, accompanied by a red-headed major she didn’t recognize. To her dismay, they headed for Sergeant Grant’s bed, the very patient she was supposed to check on. He was still recovering from his surgery until he was well enough to be moved to England. 

She decided to grit her teeth and bear it. Years had passed. Why should he bother her now? He probably wouldn’t even recognize her. She knew herself to be an unremarkable part of his life. How else could he have done what he did?

She strode over to the bed and ignored the men standing beside it. She lifted Grant’s chart and scanned it, but she couldn’t absorb anything. She could feel Lewis’s eyes on her. Moments that might have been hours passed as he stared, and she pretended she didn’t notice.

“Bonnie?”

Shit.

Biting back a groan, she looked at him, and met his eyes. Those eyes that once made her legs weak and her heart soft. But now only activated her punching reflex. She glanced at his collar to get his rank.

“Captain,” she said coolly. 

She returned her eyes to the clipboard.

“Okay, I know it doesn’t take that long to read a chart,” he said. 

She snapped it shut and glared at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a medical professional. Would you like a white coat and stethoscope? Just clock in since you seem to know so much!”

“Still mad, I see,” he said with a grimace.

“Oh, get over yourself,” she shot back. 

“So, you two know each other?” the red-head observed, cutting the tension. 

“It was a long time ago,” she said. “We went to school together.”

“We used to date,” Lewis added. 

“Could not have been more obvious I preferred to keep that private, but I guess we’re in this room now,” she said. 

“Dick, this is Bonnie Butler,” Nix said. “Bonnie, this is Major Dick Winters.”

“How do you do?” she said politely. 

“Nice to meet you,” Dick replied. “Bonnie Butler...like the little girl from Gone With the Wind?”

“If fairness, I had the name first,” she pointed out. “And I haven’t broken my neck falling off a horse, but I avoid them just in case.”

They both chuckled, and she refrained from smirking with satisfaction. Her need to impress him disturbed her. 

“I gotta admit I’m surprised to see you here,” Lewis said. 

“We haven’t spoken in years, Lewis, anything I’m doing should come as a surprise to you,” she returned.

Now that the initial contact was made, she had an easier time going about her job checking on Grant. It was pretty basic, just taking vitals and ensuring he was still stable. Which he was.

“Well, I’ll let you visit now,” she said.

She started to go.

“Kathy’s leaving me,” he blurted out.

She turned to face him, expression level. “Is that supposed to mean something to me, Lewis?”

It should have felt like victory. Like justice. But it only made her sad. None of it meant anything now. Her loving him, him loving Kathy, and Bonnie hating them both for it. The agony she faced because he chose her friend was only worth a few years of marriage. 

Did everything have to fall apart? Was nothing truly built to last? The war showed her that even thousand-year-old buildings would crumble under a bomb. Just as she crumbled when Lewis dropped the truth about him and Kathy. But now they were in ruins as well, so what was the point in any of it?

He shifted his weight between his feet, as he always did when he was anxious. He looked at the ground and then back at her, his eyes revealing how deeply he was stung. 

“Guess not,” he said. “I’ll see you around, Bonnie.”

She didn’t answer for so long he feared she would not at all. But she was still looking at him.

“I should hope not, Lewis,” she finally said. 

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the wing. Dick looked at Bonnie and then at his friend. He had never seen Lewis look so guilty. There was a deep remorse there, which indicated a great impact on his life, but Dick could not recall Lewis ever mentioning this woman. 

“What did you do to her?” Dick asked. 

Lewis cleared his throat before he answered. “Did I ever tell you how I met Kathy?”

Dick shook his head. 

“Well, Bonnie and I were dating,” Lewis began. “Kathy was her best friend. And, well...we fell in love. Behind Bonnie’s back. We had an affair for six months before we came clean.”

Dick blinked, taken aback. He knew Lewis was not the most ethical person in the world, but he did not expect his friend to be capable of something like that. He didn’t blame Bonnie at all for the way she spoke to Lewis. That kind of betrayal went deep because it was not just her boyfriend, but the one person she was supposed to be able to rely on when her boyfriend messed up. And then, to add insult to injury, they ended up married. Now, Dick was impressed with how Bonnie handled the news of the divorce. She had every right to laugh in his face. And she didn’t.

“Did you apologize?” Dick asked. 

“Oh, only about a thousand times,” Lewis replied. “And even after some time went by, Kathy and I tried to reach out again, but she wanted nothing to do with us. And we didn’t blame her, of course, but it still hurt.”

A beat passed. Lewis watched the door where Bonnie disappeared and wondered now if his split from Kathy was his punishment for what he did to her. That he and Kathy - because they started as a transgression - were perhaps doomed to fail. 

“C’mon, Nix,” Dick said. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Or dink,” Lewis returned. 

They left the hospital, but he found himself wishing he could find her again. Explain some more. But he knew better.

The following morning, Bonnie went to change an IV for a young corporal who had drunkenly jumped from a fourth story window and broken his leg. Many of the injuries she treated these days were caused by the jubilance of VE-Day, and she couldn’t say she blamed them, but she did wish they would be more careful. 

“Thanks, Nurse Butler,” the corporal said. 

“I’m just doing my job,” she replied gently. “This’ll only take a moment.”

She reached for the bag, when she suddenly heard a dreaded voice from behind her. 

“Careful with those, they can get messy,” Lewis said. 

She whipped around. 

“I’m sorry, don’t I first open my eyes and realize it’s a new day?” she asked sarcastically.

“I didn’t -”

“What is this magic bag in front of me?!” she exclaimed, holding the IV bag out with taunting wonder. 

“Look -”

“I’ve done this before,” she said sharply, becoming serious again and facing the patient, who was snickering.

“I know that,” he said.

“Then stop telling me what to do,” she retorted.

“I was joking,” he said calmly. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” she shot back, with a bitterness that told him she meant more than just the joke.

He did not speak again until after the IV was replaced. When she finished, she ignored Lewis and began walking away. 

“Bonnie, wait, I think we should talk about things,” he said, trailing behind her. 

“I disagree,” she replied. “Besides, I’m working.”

“When is your shift over?” 

“You know I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Please -”

She halted and whirled around. He skidded to a stop a few feet away. 

“What is it you’re so desperate to tell me?” she demanded. “That you’re sorry? Because I’ve heard that before, Lewis, and I don’t care.”

“You really can’t forgive me?” he asked. “After all this time?”

She wondered that herself often enough. But there was too much. Not only the betrayal, but the effects of it. How could she forgive him for the worthless way she felt? How could she forgive him for her now ingrained lack of trust? How could she forgive him for the nights she spent crying on the kitchen floor, convinced that this was what love felt like? 

His eyes clung to her gaze, and she endured a long moment of weakness where she felt totally incapable of turning away from him. But she knew she could now because she had done it before. 

“No,” she said, surprised by the croak in her voice and the lump in her throat. 

She didn’t wait for him to answer. She walked away, and thankfully, he didn’t follow. 

Another day passed. Lewis did not return to the hospital, and Bonnie was relieved. She worked the rest of her shift in peace. The only disturbance was a violent thunderstorm, which rumbled in the sky and pelted rain down against the roof all day.

When her shift concluded, it was still raining. Unwilling to get drenched, she went to the doctor’s lounge, which nurses frequented as well, for a drink. She had the next day off, so she figured she could afford to get a little tipsy. Her true goal was to get Lewis Nixon off her mind, but as she walked in, she met a dismal sight. There he sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey, looking sadly at a letter. 

She looked at the heavens to address God directly.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

She waited a moment, but received no reply. So with a sigh, she went over to the bar and took the stool beside Lewis. 

“You know, if you’re not medical personnel, you’re not really supposed to be in here,” she said.

He looked at her. “Are you speaking to me now?”

“I never said we can’t speak in general,” she said. “Just not about our past.”

“I see,” he returned. “Well, to address your earlier statement, this is the only place they have Vat 69 in all of Europe apparently.”

“You’re still drinking that nasty stuff?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“You’re not?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve moved on.”

With that, she ordered a gin and tonic. They waited in silence as the bartender prepared it. The soft clink of ice and pop of the gin bottle might as well have been explosions. There were no other patrons to fill up the space. 

“So, are we gonna catch up?” he wondered. “Like old friends?”

“I don’t think we were ever really friends,” she replied. “If we were, you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he warned jokingly. “That is forbidden territory.”

“Do you wanna talk or do you wanna fuck around?” she retorted. 

“If we’re not gonna address the elephant in the room, I’d argue that all we’re doing is fucking around,” he said. 

She couldn’t help but chuckle at that. As she relaxed into her chair and took a sip of her drink, memories of them laughing together swam before her. Those tidbits of happiness that she locked away so that they couldn’t hurt her anymore. Back when she thought of him as her whole world. 

“Alright, let’s fuck around,” she said. 

She let him go first. He talked about his son, then about joining the Airborne, about meeting Dick Winters, and he even admitted that he never fired a shot in combat. She told him about nursing school, enlisting, and a bit about her journey through Europe. It was all very surface level and appropriate. But it wasn’t them. 

“Would I be trespassing if I asked about your parents?” he wondered after their third round.

She considered it as she sipped her fourth cocktail. They grew up together, so she supposed it was fair. 

“Fine,” she said. “But it might depress you. Dad passed away, and Mom really hasn’t been the same since.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “They were always nice to me. Even after…”

She nodded, turning her glass on the counter, keeping her watering eyes focused on it. As her mother deteriorated, she kept asking where “that angel Lewis” was. Mrs. Butler doted on Lewis Nixon as if he were her own son. And Bonnie’s was not the only heart broken when everything happened. But now Mrs. Butler was stuck in a time before that, and Bonnie never had the heart to remind her that things were different now. 

“She asks about you,” Bonnie blurted out. “Mom does.”

“And what do you say?” he asked. 

“I tell her you’re coming any day now,” she said. “Of course she doesn’t know the difference. She can’t remember anything.”

He half smiled. “Well, I better go see her so I don’t make a liar out of you.”

She half smiled back. “That’d mean a lot to her.” 

She paused a beat while a doctor and another nurse filed in and took up two stools just a few seats away from her and Lewis. The other two were obviously romantic - their knees touched, their hands lingered close to each other, and they hardly looked at the bartender as they ordered. They were so wrapped up in each other. Bonnie felt the distance between her and Lewis was cavernous in comparison. She took a dink.  

“Um, how are your folks? Feeling alright?” she asked after swallowing.

“Oh, they’re the same as ever,” he said. “A little cold, a little rich. They’re gonna lose it when I tell them about the divorce.”

“You’re a grown man,” she reminded him. “What could they do?”

“You act like growing up means your parents can’t be obnoxious,” he said. “They can and they will.”

She bit her lip with hesitation. “Can I ask you something? It might be crossing a line.”

“Honey, I’m on my fifth whiskey, you can ask me whatever you want,” he assured her, knocking back the last gulp in his glass.

“Why can’t it work between you and Kath - your wife?” she asked. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say the name. Calling her “Kathy” made her who Kathy was. Bonnie’s former best friend who betrayed her in the worst way possible. Calling her “his wife” reduced her to an abstract. She could be anyone in theory. 

“She met someone else,” he answered. “Ironically enough.”

The air around them felt thick again. 

“You can laugh,” he said. “It must feel like poetic justice or something to you.”

She shook her head. “The last thing I feel like doing is laughing. That kind of hurt is not something I would wish on anyone, not even you.”

“It feels like you’re supporting me, but just barely,” he joked. 

She offered a smile. “I’m sorry, Lew. Really, I am.”

“Thanks,” he said. “But how on Earth are you so goddamn understanding?”

Her brow furrowed. “What? I’m not being understanding. I still think you’re rude for what you did.”

He blinked. “Rude?!”

“Yes, rude!” she cried. “You wanna cheat on me? That’s fine! You wanna marry that girl and get her pregnant? Fine! But to make it my best friend? That’s just rude!”

He laughed. An old, buried admiration for his smile crept up into her heart - right along the very cracks he had created and she had forced back together, never fully repairing the damage. She looked away, only to see the other couple was kissing now, and Bonnie had to turn her back to them.

“Well, I apologize for my rudeness,” he said.

“Based on the situation, I’m sure it won’t happen again,” she replied. 

“Ouch,” he said. “But well deserved on my part.”

“I’ll say,” she agreed. “But...can I ask you one more thing?”

“We have already crossed way beyond the line, go ahead,” he said.

“If you two felt that way about each other,” she began. “Why didn’t you just tell me? If you had been honest, I would have told you I’d be fine. I would never have stood in the way of your happiness. The lie hurt me more than the blow to my ego.”

He took a drink of his fresh glass of whiskey and swished it in his mouth briefly before swallowing - a tactic she was familiar with. He was constructing a careful answer.

“First of all, in fairness to us, we had no way of knowing that,” he said. “Second of all, and perhaps worst of all, we...we didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But don’t you see how it’s worse that you -”

“Of course,” he cut across her. “Of course we see how what we did was worse. We were young and stupid and afraid. And look where we are now.”

At that, they both finished their drinks. She bounced her foot a moment as what she was about to say bubbled up. Could she really say it? Did she mean it? She glanced at his face and got her answer. 

“Okay,” she said. “I’m ready.”

“To what?” he asked. “I hope it’s to tell those two to get a room.”

He nodded down the bar at the doctor and nurse. Their drinks remained untouched, but the same could not be said for their legs or their backsides. Bonnie snorted.

“C’mon, give them a break,” she said. “You remember what it was like when it was new.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said fondly. “Remember that time at Joan Watson’s party, when you and I went upstairs and -”

She squeaked to cut him off and her face went beet red. A fleeting memory of his hands on a lot more than her legs made her squirm in her seat. She cleared her throat. 

“As I was saying,” she said firmly. 

“Right, sorry,” he said through a chuckle. “What is it you’re ready for?”

“To forgive you,” she told him. “We’re both different people now, aren’t we?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’d say that’s true.”

He sat up a little straighter, appearing lighter. He pursed his lips too, fighting the grin that was spreading across his face.

“Wanna get out of here?” she suggested. 

“I’m still enjoying my whiskey,” he said. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough whiskey for - I dunno - a lifetime?”

“Not my lifetime.”

She rolled her eyes. He met her gaze and smirked. Then, he got to his feet, and offered her his hand. She took it, and they touched for the first time since what they each thought was to be the last time. Who could have imagined they would find each other again in Austria? So far from home and everything they knew together? And yet, through clasped hands, they felt that home was not so far away after all.

He helped her off the stool, they paid, and then walked outside together. The clouds had disappeared and the sun was beating down a fresh, fragrant warmth. The air was clear. The storm had passed. 

[naw-naw-honeyimgood]

ChengQing (lmao never realized that was their fucking ship name)

so pros of (Jiang Cheng/Wen Qing):

one of the few possible het ships available to mdzs fans like there are all of five named female characters and this is the only one not in an established het pairing. and like sure ive seen yanli w/ someone else a couple times but you CANT put her with JIANG CHENG and i cant say ive ever seen mianmian in a serious relationship in fics with anyone besides either her canon hubby or a chick (usually yanli, wen qing herself, or even sometimes both lmao).

it’s basically written itself in cql!! he has a very obv and clear crush on her, even gives her a comb and offers to help her! she seems interested but the way the storyline went it was simply not meant to be :’(

you get to pair off jiang cheng!! ngl once u finish mdzs its kinda sad for everyone not wangxian (in their generation/above) cuz theyre the only one that get a happy ending. Everyone else is forever alone / depressed / bitter or a combination thereof. so it’s nice to see jiang cheng getting a happy ending!

he... gets... kids...? like ngl as a childless person that is happy to stay that way thats not exactly a pro in my eyes but you might look at his relationship w/ jin ling and say “he’s a great father! he deserves to be a father!” which okay good news! wen qing can bear children!

Now. Cons. 

for one thing the fact that you have a lack of options doesnt exactly mean every possible het pairing can have good chemistry even if you change circumstances enough. there comes to a point where certain pairings can only be really viable if one or both of them are ooc.

lets be honest im willing to bet that AT LEAST 80% of the reason cql introduced this ship was because they were not allowed to make the wangxian pair explicitly Together (and i dont even mean anything specifically sexual), and they needed SOME SORT of romance to feature in the story. xuanli doesnt count because theyre an established background ship,  the jiang parents dont count as romance, we aint talkin about the villain relationships, and lbr, mianmian already had a lot more signif in cql than mdzs. so it makes sense that they took the arguably most important male chara besides wangxian and made him have a crush on the most important female character that wasnt his SISTER. 

what im trying to say is that cql pulled that pairing out of a hat. if you look at canon at ALL i highly doubt there would ever have been feelings, just as there never were. we dont quite know the age dif but we know that wen qing was the older sister and wen ning might have been a bit younger? than the boys? cannot quite remember but we dont know if she was only a year or two older or if it was like. mingjue and huaisang. we dont know! and i canNOT see jiang cheng going for an older chick. also their personalities would clash So Much. she has older sis vibes and not the gentle kind like yanli. she snaps at wen ning’s mumbling and stuff a good couple times- you think she’d tolerate jiang cheng’s emotional immaturity? hah. 

this also kinda segues into my main point of: as depressing as it is that jiang cheng is forever alone unless you pair him off... he would honestly put whoever you pair him off with through hell. he’s not nice. so many jiang cheng stans like to argue that he’s a traumatized kid that was raised to channel his emotions through anger (and raises bitterness under his skin like an ugly puppy) but inside he has a heart of gold, and they’re... not exactly wrong! i mean- literally every younger chara is traumatized in some way. but... that doesn’t really... excuse the shit he’s pulled? as much as jiang cheng stans like to forget: jin guangyao was RIGHT when he said that jiang cheng’s insecurities got wei ying killed. his CLOSEST ALLY. 

tying back to wen qing we have their actual CANON interactions (or lack thereof). wen qing didn’t exactly protect wei ying and jiang cheng out of the goodness of her heart when lotus pier fell: she was protecting wen ning (her BROTHER) from the repercussions of his own actions by saving wei ying (and Jiang Cheng ig idk he was just there bUT YOUNG MASTER WEI-)

not QUITE sure why she agreed to doing the golden core transfer (maybe scientific curiousity? i mean she had an unproven medical theory and here was a volunteer) but it def wasnt For Jiang Cheng.

and then the next time she saw him? do you guys remember the next time she saw him? it’ was when jiang cheng came up to the burial mounds to kill wen ning’s corpse and tell wei ying to turn over the wens. 

KEEP IN MIND that jiang cheng KNOWS wen ning and qing SAVED HIS FUCKING ASS after lotus pier (not How but he KNOWS THIS) and yet he still tells wei ying to hand them over.

he makes wei ying choose between what amounts to the cultivation world and his morals. 

that does not a good healthy relationship make. also again their personalities would clash like so bad. i love wen qing way more but you have to admit her personality is super similar to madame yu’s. and we already agreed that jiang cheng was traumatized as a kid. im not saying fengmian didnt have a hand in it but you gotta admit a good amount was madam yu and her insecurites and accusations she piled on her son. and you wanna pair him up romantically with someone who won’t take his shit and smile? will call him out? HAH.

im not saying this because i think jiang cheng should be with a softer personalitied (guy) like lan xichen or wen ning or huaisang because god knows those pairings have their own issues. im just saying that in canon-verse all i can ship whole-heartedly is jiang cheng / therapy, but since there is not therapy in canon-verse, or even if there WAS then there’s no way he’d admit to needing it, then yeah he can stay single for all his bitter life. better that than making jiang parent relationship 2.0 like fuck.

(this of course means that in modern aus where he DOES get therapy i am Open)

also real quick but jiang cheng was NOT a good parent to jin ling and i will not take constructive criticism like sure he was better than the jiang parents and the lan parents but that is SUCH a low fuckin bar and it’s a fact that in chapter 9 jin ling literally thinks “if I can’t slice off her head with this blow, I will die here- death it is then!!” (taken gratefully from the exiled rebels scanlation) and that is NOT a healthy-minded child.

the only healthy minded children is like. jingyi. and probably sizhui. although i am not here for the way the lan sect raise children but sometimes you have to take what you can get.

also i want you to look me in the eye and tell me that wen qing could and would do anything besides throw down with someone that so much as looked at her brother wrong

because jiang cheng apparently decided to lay the blame for jin zixuan’s death at wen ning’s feet (which is incredibly ironic considering he blames wei ying for yanli’s death??? like i feel like he could stand to use his brain cells a bit more??) and repeatedly tried to kill him.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

to the anon that sent me an essay, this is for you

to everyone else, idk what this is

from anon:

here are a few things ive thought of to an obsessive level but these are completely non-bts related so u can choose to skip it. hell, you knew u that already.

1. before becoming parents or after emerging into adulthood everyone should be sent to therapy. sometimes i question if it is to fill the gaps their childhood has blown wide open that adults have children. or is it to fulfill some moral responsibility they have to simply reproduce. if its the first, to think about it, is kind of fucked up. you are depriving your child a stable future, creating replicas of exactly what you suffered, if u are not stable yourself.

You know, probably. People have kids for a number of reasons, not all if them good. I am a product of such a cycle, generations that used physical and emotional punishment on their own children to lash out their frustrations in life. The easiest one to bully is the offspring you made, because they don't know any better. They think that's how life is, because that's how life always was. I suffer for it, all the time. But, you know, therapy does nothing if you don't want it. You have to be willing to listen to be helped.

Most people are not willing to listen or change. That's the big problem.

2. its sad how the whole ' one in a million ' concept is staring at me. haruki murakami said mediocrity is constant. that thought haunts me everyday becuase of how many people are just a sea of faceless creatures as the world decides which one is the outlier. its the scariest thing i have ever felt, but it is inevitable. mediocrity should be normalized. there is an exorbitant amount of pressure in youth to produce and create and every other teenager is doing mun and every other adult is in the medical field, but at the cost of what? sure, you just saved the world, but did you save yourself?

Everyone is in outlier which makes nobody special. Society has slowly but surely created the idea that people need to be better than others, the idea that "better" must exist. To want more. And why is that?

Money.

Why is everyone pressured to make a product? To monetize their hobbies? To "do work you love"? Why is this the ideal? Because someone wants to profit from you. Someone is always greeding for more, more, so they make you feel this need as well, feeding off your futile attempts to be the "prefect you" but the perfect you doesn't exist. Why is it that every outlier put on a pedestal feels disillusioned / pressured or greedy / selfish? Because you've been tricked, feeling sad and deflated that you can't achieve something that isn't real.

3. middle class. im part of it. we're probably the most entitled section of society there is. it is so amusing to me how we have basically everything we need to survive but always want more. its weird how the poorer sections dont have time to think about their lives at the stake of capitalist countries, while we're here thinking about everything in our day that has harmed us, complaining about shit that isnt even required to survive. my mind is bursting because im literally fucking typing / this / because i have the privilege to and im STILL . doing . it .

Entitled? Everyone feels entitled. Not just middle class. You think rich people don't want more? Pfft. Everyone wants more, simply because that's what were trained to think. Everything around us is always asking you to want more, tying your worth to what you have instead of what you are. Your worth equating to material possessions has been taught to you all your life from the media, all for the sake of profit. The worst is when they turn your own morals and ethics on you to monetize that as well.

4. i hope i dont forget everything that has ever happened to me. not because i'd want to hold it over peoples head. but because i really dont want to grow ignorant. i dont want to have hollow opinions and i dont want to live a life where its easy to be just as. i dont want to be in a herd of sheep.

You will forget. Neurons die all the time. It's a known fact memories get disorganized, remade, and blended with fantasy. You are organic, an imperfect machine. Even your memories are imperfect, only focusing on specific things and not the whole picture because human brains focus on what's important and not what is. This is a survival tactic and it's what causes you to polarize one way or another. Even you, telling me this right now, you are declaring "I want things to only be this way".

But, you know.

"Polarization is the ugliest flower in the world."

Your past and memory is not the only thing that shapes opinions. Agreeing with others is not being a sheep. Are you a sheep because you agree killing an innocent as a police officer is not okay? Sometimes ignorance is okay. You don't have to know everything. Sometimes it's better not to.

5. im really jealous of bts sometimes. its fucking insane. theyre so successful but they have and continue to endure so much shit from the world. passion. passion is the word i want to chop up and throw into a blender and smother in a fire. they have it. and i dont. they are so hardworking. its something ill never be.

They don't have to do anything. They can quit at any time. They choose not to for many reasons. You choose how much you can take and how much is too much. You chose who you are. There are many hardworking, passionate people you don't know, because they don't want to be known. Passion, hard work, these things exist in many forms, and not all of it is so exposed like it is with BTS.

And let's face it, not all of those things can be good. They said so themselves.

6. i think we should really stop saying 'well if u were in their place what would u have done'. we cant do what we havent been given the chance to experience. we cant think about what we wouldve done because we have lived our lives NOT doing it. i am living my life only one which way and there is no other way i can know yet.

We say this to help others realize that prespective is importamt. It is not about actually living it, but having the empathy to understand and see from another person's eyes. No one is asking you to be Dr. Strange and live all 5 million possibilities. You can think someone's actions / words are wrong but, in that moment, they didn't think that, either because they grew up a certain way or because certain things happened to them. You don't have to live the experience to have some level of understanding, even if imperfect.

im sorry for this brain dump , i dont really have anyone else im willing to talk to and i completly understand if u skip this. hope ur fine tho and taking care. love ur works !

I'm an INTJ. My brain never turns off. It's a curse. But thank you for enjoying my writing! Hope you liked this too LOL

[dastardlydandelion]

respice finem

ao3 link

content warnings: referenced violence and abuse

part one link

obligatory irl inspo link

Max keeps pacing up and down the diameter of the room. She stretches her hands over her head and Billy thinks her protective hovering is starting to bug the nurses. They both stayed overnight but Billy’s at least taken a couple breaks. He got himself some Doritos from the vending machine. Borrowed and smoked a cigarette even though he virtually quit a couple years back. Took a short drive to a Kmart up the road and bought Max a change of clothes, supposing he wouldn’t able to get her anything of her own if her home was wrapped in caution tape.

“You wanna go down to the cafeteria, maybe? Get something to eat?”

“Not hungry.”

“Okay…did you know they have a gift shop? Wanna go check it out?”

“No.”

“Do you—“

“I’m not leaving, Billy.” Max’s eyes glitter in a stubborn glower.

“Oh, but maybe you should, sweetheart,” Susan says softly. “You’re getting restless.”

“I’m fine.”

“You should get out of this stuffy room. Go for a stroll, stretch your legs. I would if I could.”

Pure heartbreak flashes across Max’s face and Billy feels his own lurch.

“Oh dear, bad joke.” Susan frowns and flaps her hand, the tube connecting it to the IV pouch swaying gently in the air. “That was in poor taste, I apologize. But I do think you need to get some fresh air, Max. I’ll be fine.”

Max pauses. Her hands come together and she taps her thumbs together as she mulls it over.

“I’d feel better if you stayed here.” Max shifts her gaze to Billy.

“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” he says honestly. Max is obviously wired and getting more antsy by the minute but Billy is the opposite. He’s wiped out after driving for several hours straight and aching from head to toe after scrapping with his dad.

“…alright,” Max relents after a very long moment. “I’ll be back in fifteen.”

She gently swipes the back of her hand over her mother’s cheek. Susan blinks contentedly and hums in approval as Max trudges off to the door. She leaves. Susan's gaze flickers to Billy and then down. She frowns at the guardrail of the bed and uncertainly pushes at it with her palm.

“What’re you doing, Sue?”

“I don’t need this. I’m not going to roll out of bed.” She continues pushing at the guardrail but her efforts are weak and uncoordinated. Even if she had more power and precision behind her pushes, Billy’s pretty sure these things aren’t designed to be collapsed from the patient’s position.  

“It’s fine, just leave it alone.”

“No,” she refuses, eyes narrowing. “It’s in my way, Billy. It’s separating us.”

Something knocks loose inside his chest. Billy hasn’t seen her in three months. He hadn’t been particularly sure he’d ever see her again.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give it a go. Here.” He sighs out and messes with the thing and after a couple tries and a few silent shrieks from his very sore shoulders, he finally figures out how to get the damn rail lowered, adjusting it accordingly.

“Thank you so much,” Susan breathes. “Now it's easier to do this.”

She stretches out her slender fingers and rests her hand upon his knee. She gives it a couple dulcet pats. Her pinky pokes inside the fraying tear in the denim, soft pad of her fingertip cool against his skin. Billy swallows, wonders how much he is allowed to touch. She wouldn’t be this affectionate with him if she knew.

“It’s my fault Neil found you and Max,” Billy admits, heart pumping guilt like sludge in his veins. “It’s my fault he almost killed you.”

“What?” Susan stares at with owlish eyes.

“I wanted to send Max a gift in the mail,” Billy explains, speaking slowly and plainly. “I hid it under my bed. My dad saw it when he raided my room looking for some shit he thought I stole from him. That’s how he got your address. I tried to stop him, Susan. But I couldn’t…I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Billy.” Susan signs, rubbing her lips together. Her hand travels from his knee to his wrist and she gently pushes up his jacket cuff. Billy doesn’t stop her. He watches her eyes darken at the sight of the bruises.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“You said it was a gift for Max?”

“Yeah…new skateboard.”

“I wish you would’ve just driven over to drop it off. Because if you came over, you would’ve seen how nicely we decorated our little duplex…you could’ve seen my darling little gnomes sipping tea and these delightfully clever novelty magnets Max found for the refrigerator. You could’ve sat on our couch and while it’s a bit worn— we got it secondhand —it’s very comfy. Maybe if you saw how nice everything was and sat in our cushy, comfy couch, you wouldn’t have wanted to leave.”

Billy gapes at her, noncomprehending. He just confessed he’s the reason she almost got killed. That it's his fault his dad literally broke into her home to beat her to death with a wrench. And Susan doesn’t seem angry at all. He knows she's on the good shit, but still. She's not out of it. She heard what he said. Ahd she is frowning but it’s a more fretful expression than anything, dimple between her eyebrows, forehead crinkled in concern.

“I waited for you, Billy.”

Oh.

“We talked about this before you left, Susan,” Billy gently reminds her. “I told you why I chose to stay. Remember?”

“You wanted to protect us,” she murmurs, thumb chary as she rolls it over his bruised wrist. “Me and Max.”

Billy solemnly nods his head.

“Mm…” Susan’s eyes rove the room and then settle back on him as her lips curl into a doleful smile. “How well do you suppose that turned out?”

Billy’s eyes travel along the chest tube to the rectangular drainage unit on the floor, the printed numbers and increments he doesn’t really understand. Glances to her legs elevated on the pillows. The right one was more badly broken. Not badly enough to require surgery, but still too swollen for a hard cast. The swelling in her left went down and Susan got fitted for a cast just a couple hours ago. The dark purple color she picked matches the massive bruise that currently blooms across most of Billy’s back.

“I’m sorry.” He bows again even though it hurts, it hurts, he’s goddamn sore but not as sore as he is sorry. Billy feels the knot tremble in his throat and he is possibly more sorry than he’s ever been anything else in his life. There is a beast in his belly with a thousand guilty eyes and shame in every one of its silent, miserable cries.

“No, no, raise your head. Don’t— it’s not your fault, Billy.” He feels Susan’s hand sweep the fringe from his face in a few quick motions, delicate and deft. “Won’t you look at me?”

Warily, he glances up. Susan’s eyes are misting up as he feels his own stinging again. Shit. Max is going to kill him if he makes her mother cry.

“I am the one who needs to apologize," Susan declares. "For the life of me, I couldn’t convince you to come with us. I failed you.”

“What?” Billy scoffs in disbelief. “No, that’s not on you. I’m stubborn, I’m—“

“I am the adult,” Susan cuts him off, voice sharp even as her hand rests against his cheek lamb gentle. “The real adult, you're barely twenty. You did what you thought was best but I’m older and I knew better, and I couldn’t make you see it. I let you stay, I left you in the lion’s den.”

Billy doesn't really see it that way. He doesn't feel like a child, doesn't want to be treated as one. And he's no longer Neil's legally, albeit he's been nowhere near financially independent. Couldn't work for a long time after that gruesome nightmare turned reality that was the worst fucking Fourth of July ever. Had to fork over all his paychecks to Neil even after he could go back to work— supposedly put toward residual medical bills insurance didn't cover, but hell if Billy truly trusted any excuse Neil could and would hold over his head. In any case, that's not entirely why he stayed with Neil. And staying with Neil wasn't even exactly the same thing as not going with Susan and Max, but abandonment wasn't a factor in the equation at all. He doesn't feel that way, how could Susan think that?

“You left me the address,” Billy pointedly reminds her and he does not let himself crane his face into her touch even though it’s cool and soft and he feels his stomach loosen with this, this featherlight clemency so careful and sweet.

Because of course he knows why he was left the address and it was never so he could mail packages.

“I should’ve grabbed you and dragged you to the car.” Susan doesn’t sound like she’s kidding.

“You could’ve,” Billy breathes and he’s not kidding either. “You’ve seen me get grabbed, Susan. I don’t fight it. Not in the house. Never did…not until he found that address.”

Susan’s thumb brushes away the tear that spills over, unbidden. Billy reaches out and does the same for hers.

“I’m not mad,” he promises in earnest.

“Neither am I. In fact, I’m…” Susan trails off, exhaling heavily as she draws her hand back from his cheek. “I don’t know, Billy. He was going to kill me. Maybe both of us and I could never say that I’m glad that happened because I am not. I am not glad Max had to see and do what she saw and did. I am not glad that at present, I cannot even stand without assistance. But…you’re here. You’re here because of what happened. Because of what happened, Neil…I never have to worry about Neil again. I never, ever have to look over my shoulder worrying about when he will find me because he already did.”

“That’s one way of looking on the bright side, I guess,” Billy mutters, voice hollow.

“Your father has done all the harm he will ever be able to do, to any of us, and now we’re together again. Isn’t there something to be said for that, Billy?”

He swallows thickly, nodding his head as he places his hand on the bed. Susan’s fingers slide over his and that’s how Max finds them when she returns.

“There you are,” Susan welcomes, smiling warmly. “That was a bit longer than fifteen minutes.”

Max freezes. “Did you need me?”

“No, honey, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just happy that you took a good break.”

Max visibly relaxes and shuffles over, lightly squeezing her mother’s upper arm. “I saw Neil.”

Billy exchanges a look of shock with Susan.

“Yeah, he had a new guard today and we talked for a couple minutes. Cool lady with a cool name, like some Greek Goddess name. She gave me a dollar for the vending machine and let me in his room.”

“Are you okay?” Susan frowns, worry crossing her features as her lashes flutter.

“Yeah, Mom. Neil doesn’t scare me anymore.” Max leans in and presses another kiss to the crown of her Susan’s head. Billy’s never seen her more affectionate than this, so doting and tender with her injured mother. “It was actually good. To see Neil like that…to know I did that. It confirms it, I guess? I mean not that I didn’t know, because obviously I know I didn't dream or hallucinate what happened, but…”

“Seeing is believing, perhaps?” Susan tilts her head, mussy red tresses shifting over the pillowcase.

“Yeah, like that. Seeing is believing, I guess. I saw the neck brace and the handcuffs and now I’m…well I’m not gonna turn into a badger every time you want me to take a break.” Max’s mouth quirks, expression sobering when she glances to Billy. “Are you gonna see him?”

“I don’t know,” Billy answers. He keeps thinking about it.

Maybe he’d feel better like Max does. Maybe he’d feel worse. He thinks he’d hate himself if he wound up having some scrap of sympathy. He thinks maybe he’d rip the pillow out from under his father’s head and smother the rest of the life out of him. He thinks he would have the opportunity to say everything he’s ever wanted to say but worries that he would not have the words, worries they may dissolve on his tongue with that stern, steely stare that’s shackled him all his life.

“Not yet,” Billy decides at least.

“You look weird,” Max bluntly blurts, scrunching her nose.

“That’s not nice,” Susan protests in mild reproach.

“It’s not mean,” Max counters, shrugs a shoulder as she looks back to Billy. “You okay? Is it hard being in a hospital again?”

Susan too raises a brow.

Billy reflexively lifts a hand to his chest, curls his jacket in his fist until the button presses uncomfortably into his palm. Few things in his life had been more challenging than his hospital stay and it wasn’t even being in pain or sick or weak, then weaker, then stronger and still in pain— it was sterility. It was being cooped up. It was no privacy whatsoever and never the right noises. It was everything being terrible except Max and Susan even if Max and Susan being around constantly was sometimes terrible but never, ever because they were terrible because they genuinely weren’t and— and now they’re all here again with some of the details rearranged.

Billy realizes that’s the hardest part, maybe, that the details are rearranged. Discovers that maybe it is worse to see someone you care about hurt than hurt yourself. He cannot speak but maybe they know, maybe they can read it in his face because then Susan’s reaching up again, brushing gentle fingertips over his scabbed up knuckles until he relaxes the death grip on the jacket balled into his fist.

“If you decide you want to see Neil, I’ll walk you to the door,” Max offers.

“Thanks,” he manages, terse but sincere.

“And if you want to see him, Mom, I’ll—“

“I don’t,” Susan breaks in, vehement and almost nervous, hand retracting from Billy’s and clasping fast to the opposite above her chest, IV tube swinging again. “I don’t, Max, I really, really don’t.”

“Okay,” Max promises her immediately, gingerly draping an arm around her in a reassuring embrace. The closest to a hug she can manage. “You don’t have to. You never, ever have to see him again, Mom. If you don't want to, you don't have to and that's that. I won't let anyone make you.”

Susan’s eyes dart back and forth as she leans into Max as much as she can, releasing a shaky exhale. Billy’s taken his breaks. They finally got Max to take her break. He thinks maybe Susan needs a break too.

“You wanna see what’s on tv, Sue?” he suggests.

‘No news,’ Max mouths at him above her head. Billy blinks knowingly.

“Sure,” Susan agrees, relaxing and shifting a bit as Max lowers her arm. “Um...maybe the animal channel?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s see what nature is up to.”

[t0sshii]

ginhiji hospital au??

I needed to get this off of my brain and I can’t draw or write so here it goes... Ginhiji but Hijikata is a nurse working in a hospital and Gintoki is the new resident who comes off as lazy but is actually a really good doctor (which surprises our boy Toushi)

More thoughts under the cut? (I have more thoughts about hijikata because.... i have more experience there LOL)

I’ve been a working nurse for more than half a year now so I kind of know what I’m talking about? (but not really because i’m definitely still a baby nurse that’s still learning OTL) but really im a baby don’t ask me specifics

I got into Gintama super late and I have so many regrets because it’s taken over my life. 

hijikata working in either medsurg, ICU, or emergency because it’s not slow, needs great time management skills and working under pressure /but i have a bias for medsurg because that’s where i am right now... but i feel like he would definitely be the same kind of intense that some ICU nurses i know are... 

he’s definitely the type to not take a proper break at work... would probably eat saltines from the nutrition room 

reason 1: he’s too busy

reason 2: hates to go on break if he has to leave hella shit for the person covering him (so he give all his meds, clean his patients, give pain meds...make sure they NEVER call the person covering him on break) but that also means when things don’t calm down he feels like there’s never an opening for one

meanwhile he will give meds, clean patients, and do everything for whoever he covers for break 

when this happens kondo sends yamazaki to cover him for breaks because you can’t tell patients to eat their food when you haven’t eaten toushi 

is really good at putting in IVs, nobody on the unit even tries to put them in when he’s working they’ll just ask him to do it for them

a charting superuser lol

his brain... impeccable. a work of art. a pinnacle of organization. made his own because the hospital issued one doesn’t work for him

probably looks something like this

note: allows you do just quickly circle things during shift change instead of writing it all down...i would probably make past medical history section bigger though (do i use a sheet like this? no because i am... organized chaos and writing it down helps ME--but toushi probably wants to take as little time possible writing shit down) 

reads his work e-mail, even the newsletters from the hospital

kondo is nurse manager and is a very supportive one (the potlucks!!! tries his best to make sure everyone feels supported at work ; w ;) hired hijikata..

when hijikata is charge, the work is distributed evenly thank god 

also “it’s an hour until shift change and if this patient doesn’t come up in 10 minutes they’re not coming until after shift change” 

everyone asks him for help because he knows all the hospital policies

what nurse isn’t frustrated with doctors lets be real 

exhibit A: “my patient is in TEARS with 10/10 pain and the doctors have the audacity to ask if THEY TRIED TO DISTRACT THEMSELVES WITH ART?” (this is a literal conversation I’ve had with a resident before) 

hates talking to interns because he ends up having to teach them how to do their job 

hates talking to jaded attendings

only attending he likes is shouyo

used to have long hair in nursing school but cut it after his ponytail got into some shit during a bed bath 

still smokes.. kondo hates it because we’ve all seen what it’s done to our patients and you still smoke?

has tried to quit but never works out

gintoki also gets on his case about it

just imagine hijikata in those black figs joggers scrubs UGH 

in this universe they’re called digs because copyright and this is still gintama we’re talking about

these scrubs are unnecessarily expensive so he didn’t actually buy them himself ( “why the fuck would i buy expensive scrubs if i am going to get literal shit on it”).. if left to his own devices he will wear those ugly ass hospital issued scrubs

Kondo and his other friends split the price for the black joggers and a 3 pocket scrub top -- because we all know hijikata puts ALL his supplies in his pockets. he NEEDS pockets

Gintoki thinks his ass looks good in those joggers UGH 

Hijikata won’t admit it but the digs are his favorite pair they are so comfortable. still won’t buy them with his own money though

student nurses are scared of him because he’s intense and asks hard questions, really strict... doesn’t bully but pushes students and orientees really hard

but also any one who can survive being trained by him becomes an excellent nurse

that nurse that’s on top of their shit and THINKS instead of just following orders

“saw his potassium is high. can we do something about that?”

“there wasn’t continuous oxygen monitoring ordered but i put them on because it doesn’t look good. can we get an order for that” 

all the doctors trust him because he’s just so goOD

gets on gintoki’s case about looking like a bum at the hospital all the time

if he EVER catches wind of doctors talking down to his nurses or older nurses bullying the newer ones (which never really happens because kondo is a great manager who fosters a very nontoxic work culture) they will...FEEL. HIS. WRATH. 

also will not tolerate patients treating him (or his coworkers) like shit. will be more professional dealing with patients tho than with the MDs. but if it’s an MD berating a nurse, they better be ready to get their ass KICKED

Gintoki is the new resident along with katsura and takasugi in.... internal medicine? surgery? idk? 

i mostly just wanted write this one: hijikata has a patient in a pain crisis 10/10 pain, given all available pain meds, tried everything possible but still no relief. paged the new resident working with this patient 

hijikata fully expects either a call saying “sorry i can’t order any more pain medicine for this patient” or just another IV medicine ordered with no communication at all 

but gintoki comes into the patient’s room (first thing hijikata notices is unprofessional hair, wrinkled jacket, mismatching socks and thinks this doctor is going to be lazy AF), speaks to the patient with great bedside manner, talks to the patient about pain management strategies and WORKS WITH THEM for a better plan for medication. walks with the patient in the hall and even takes them to the bathroom 

hijikata is FLOORED. because this never happens with MDs.

(this has actually happened and me and all my coworkers were SO PLEASANTLY SURPRISED)

hijikata once sent gintoki a message asking if he wanted to lower the dose for a medication because the lab for it was high 

gintoki thought he was the pharmacist because hijikata is just that good

likes the sound of hijikata’s voice on the phone so he always returns his pages even if it’s just to say “ok i’ll put the order in” 

secretly gets excited when he sees hijikata’s name on the chart under the care team 

one because he’s hot

two because he’s a good nurse

actually learns a lot from hijikata

gets to know hijikata’s bad break habits and gives him a coffee whenever he notices he’s working (but is absolutely disgusted when he brings out the mayonnaise)

“how can you tell your patients to be healthy when you put that shit in everything you eat?” 

hijikata counters with “you can’t tell me what to eat when you’re on your way to diabetes asshole” 

tries to be the kind of MD shouyo is 

being in healthcare is hard so the two of them do drink together if their days off line up to vent....

hijikata complains about dumb MDs (gintoki makes mental notes on how to not be an annoying MD), how busy his days are, and why are we always understaffed... how can we run out of IVs? 

gintoki complains about all the calls he gets, how stressful residency is, why are rounds so early, that midget takasugi, the long ass working hours, being on call fuckin sucks

both bond over sharing crazy stories about patients or how their day went....also hospital complaints because what healthcare worker doesn’t complain about their hospital 

get into “who’s job is more stressful” arguments a lot

on particularly hard (emotionally, physically, mentally) days the other would show up with a bag of food and drinks? 

when the two start dating, it’s usually just... hanging out at work? 

if somehow by some miracle, they get their breaks together (if at all) they eat together

if they do have days off together they usually spend it sleeping (literally you guys) or relaxing at one of their apartments

sleep deprived healthcare workers lead to many....petty...arguments but they make up by the end 

it’s late and i have more thoughts? but i have work tomorrow. but i needed to get this OUT OF MY BRAIN.

also feel free to message me about any of this!! :) asks are always open hehe

[claire-willz]

I want you to know the number you did on me. I want you to know how badly you fucked me up. I can lie through my teeth and say how over you i am, and how i'm doing good now and I'm in a better mental state and whatever the fuck. I mean I think i am? I'm not 15 and self harming and shit anymore, I don't do the same shit I did back then. I don't know if I'm in a better mental state, or if I've literally just grown up. You fucking broke me. You broke my spirit, you broke my soul.You were so fucking mean to me, I still, 8 years later have your voice in my head mocking everything I do, including writing this bullshit. You fucking ruined me. My life and who I am would have been so different if I had never met you. I mean fuck, i was so desperate to get over you I started sleeping around with anyone who would give me the time of day, which eventually lead me to be a prositute because i thought 'i do it anyway but for free, why not get paid for it?'. In this whatever post I plan to be as vunerable as i can be, and in that, I feel like I'm worth fuck all because I was a prostitute. Because of you. 8 years later and saying your name feels like I'm spitting fire, my stomach turns and i get this rush of emotions, love, hate, heartbreak, guilt.. 6 years ago, I tried to take my own life. I remember thinking how when it worked you would say 'well she was actually strong enough to do it, never thought she would'. But It didnt so.. 5 years ago, I had the biggest depression breakdown to date which cost me not one but two hospital admissions in the space of 24 hours, and I remeber worrying that you would find out because I wanted you to know I had changed even though we hadn't spoken in 2 and a half years. I was depressed, the pressure that you still put over me to be everything i never was that you wanted collapsed me i suppose. Mix that with me trying to be a better person for you and never feeling like it was enough because you fucking hate me and honestly, i see myself the way you do, or did, been too long now, maybe after 8 years you changed your mind? just in case you came back, just in case. I don't remember the sound of your voice, I barely remember what you look like. I don't remember your likes and dislikes, I don't remember your traits and hobbies, But i remember how you made me feel. And I know, because ive been telling myself for years that i need to forgive you, and I think i have, But if i really had, I wouldn't be writing this, so i don't know. Everything I did to the drugs I smoked, the alochol I drank, the people I considered friends and the men i slept with was all to get over you, and in return... I got cripping anxiety as a result from all of it. My psychologists says that to me, you represented everything i wanted at the time even if it wasn't who you were. You represented the love i wanted from my dad, you represented a happy life, you represented acceptance and approval, stability, just everything I didn't have and never did have that subconsiously I always wanted.. and yes, you did put me into therapy, not soley you, but you did. You're right, I am crazy, and i blame you for it, you made me crazy then got mad when I was. But what i wanna know, is how the FUCK do i fix this mess you made, they say time heals all wounds but i disagree, a shitload of water has run under the bridge, every single cell in my body has changed, but the time hasn't healed the wounds its caused a huge infection, the water running under the bridge has stopped running and turned into a lake, the cells in my body still crave you and still yearn for your smell and the sound of your voice saying 'stress less baby'. If i could still remember, it would ring in my ears, but its hard too when your voice is basically forgotten in my memory. I don't know how to get over you, I've tried literally everything. Hypnotism, medication, drugs, alochol, sex (and alot of it), I've tried dating other guys,I've written you letters and burnt them,Ive talked about you in depth to that many fucking people its embarrasing, yet I'm still here. Saturday night and i'm still missing the absolute shit out of you and I'm still hurt over you, stalking any only tumblr profile that has even the hint of your existence then feeling my stomach turn when i remember how it felt when you did the things you did to me. Its like its october 2012 all over again, it feels the exact fucking same and I don't know why. I hate it, I wish it could stop but I really am convinced that I never will. I won't get over you, the damange you did won't heal. I hate you, I hate you so much it literally lets my skin aflame, but I would do absolutely anything to have you back in my life. I don't think I'll get this happy ever after I've been dreaming of, I don't think I'll find someone and get married. I wish you never existed, because this isnt normal. The feelings and everything i go through daily still isn't normal. And i wish it wasn't like this. 24/7 you're torturing me. And i mean youre happy now, you have a wife and a kid, you moved on so long ago I'd be suprised if you ever remembered me. You won't ever read this, and i hope you don't. Maybe this is just another lame attempt to get over you, it won't work, but helps the pain for a little while. Being completly vunerable and honest in a 'letter' isn't something ive done yet. The rest that i wrote were all bullshit on how i forgive you and how i dont love you anymore and how i am doing so much better than you ever thought possible and blah blah blah. All lies, they feel real at the time and maybe they are, but when its moments like these that are so fucking raw the truth just comes out and i'm here, thinking of you and hating everything thats happened. I see my life and three sections, before you, during you, and after you. Before you life was easy, during you.. life was amazing and intense and extreme, after you is pain and denial. Its embarrasment and sadness. Evens bandaids fall off, even stitches get infected. Open wounds sometimes stay open. And its your fault. Maybe if you did come back life would get easier for me, maybe i wouldn't hear your voice, maybe I would go crazy on you again. I know i did awful things to you, but were they that awful? I did them because i was hurt, but you did worse too, and you never owned up to it, and yet youre still the victim in my eyes, even though you moved on and you don't feel the way i feel. I am the victim here, not you and fuck you for thinking that, fuck me for thinking that, I'm just as bad for viewing you that way, I could probably choose not too, but its so embedded into my subconsious i don't see any other way to view you. Because i hate you like you were the bad guy, and love you like you were the victim. It would have been easier if you died, not gonna lie about that. If you had died, my life would be easier. I don't mean that as 'i wish you were dead', but i mean that if you hadnt of left my by choice, it would probbaly be easier to deal with. I know ive changed as a person, i made alot of mistakes and i grew up and grew from them which is something every single person has done and yet i feel your judgement in the harshest way for every single one of them. I carry the guilt for the things that i did as if i did them to you, the one i cared/care about most. I don't know how well this explains everything within me ranting about shit and whatever, but i tried.

[mymindsmadness]

Why I hate seeing the Uchiha logo on Sakura’s shirt/why I don’t ship SasuSaku

DISCLAIMER: I’m not shitting on anyone’s ship. I get it. You love them. You do you booboo, I’m just here to speak my truth. Don’t come at me with comments shitting all over the things I love. You have your opinion and I have mine.

If you are a SasuSaku shipper and you read past this point, you have no one but yourself to blame for your anger!

I’m probably gonna rant a bit, so I’ll start with the bottom line. Sakura and Sasuke’s relationship is one of the most toxic relationships I’ve ever seen.

Unrelated (but kind of related): All the female character are written pretty shitty, and that adds to this whole mess.

Part I [Young Love]:

Okay. I get it. She’s all for Sasuke and he doesn’t give her the time of day. We love a queen that gets hers in the end. The problem is that Sakura’s core personality traits are based off of her obsession. Her wants. Her flaws. Her essence as a [non] person is completely defined by Sasuke’s character. This is even verified when Kakashi asks them about themselves and Sakura literally gives [giggles] Sasuke for every answer.

When they’re tested with the bells, Sakura shows no ninja prowess whatsoever. She shows no skill beyond hiding in a bush. The only time we really see her moving/thinking/talking, is when it’s to ‘rescue Sasuke’. She even refers to him as ‘my Sasuke’ a dozen or so times. Seriously, it could be a drinking game.

During the chunin exams, we see a little more of a backbone from Sakura. But even as she struggles to make herself be seen, she really only wants to be seen by – you guessed it – Sasuke.

When Sasuke gets extra angsty [YOLO style], and tries to leave the village, Sakura tries to go with him. Think about that. Sakura tries to leave the village. Her home. Her family. Her friends. Everything! She does this because the idea of becoming a criminal is more appealing than being left behind by Sasuke.

But you know what? I’ll excuse it. She’s only thirteen at this point. She’s entitled to make stupid choices in the name of puppy love. We’ve all been there, man. And sure, at thirteen all love feels like true love. You know what girl? I forgive you.

Part II [Personal Growth]

At this point, Sakura’s whole character arch is defined by the people that leave her. And I could forgive this – almost. Enter Tsunade. I love Tsunade. I worship Tsunade. She is probably the one female character in the whole show that is as well integrated as the men [if we ignore the fact that her whole backstory is revolved around them]. When Sakura started training with Tsunade, I knew there was about to be an Eye of the Tiger montage. Sure enough, my girl comes through. Come Shippuden, Sakura is kicking ass and taking names [literally]. Better yet, she found her niche in medical ninjutsu [insert joke about how females always play the healers]. She’s got chakra for days and the control of a saint. Piss my girl off? You ‘bout to lose a lung.

Yes, Sakura’s still insecure when it comes to her place among the others, but can we blame her? She had demi-gods as teammates. But it’s different now. Sakura knows she’s a badass. She’s fully aware that her control and strength are something to be proud of. She uses those years of neglect and training to help her comrades!... and chase down Sasuke.

By the beginning of the 4th war, this bitch has lost her damn mind. At this point, Sakura and Naruto have been searching for Sasuke for the last 3 [or so] years. All this time, Sakura is under the impression that she’s in love with him. The times from when Sasuke left to the end of the war, are some of the most defining years in a person’s life. At 13-17 is when a person’s personality really starts to develop and lay out the foundation for the adult they will be.

Part III [All’s Fair]

Now, I’m not saying that Sakura didn’t hold a certain level of love for Sasuke her whole life. It’s very possible. However, there was no way it could be a romantic love. Think about who you were when you were twelve. Now think about who you were at seventeen. Did anything change in that time?

Sakura could not have been in love with Sasuke because she didn’t know who he was. They hadn’t been in contact in years! She had the memory of who he had been on a pedestal, and without him around to alter that image, it became more and more idyllic. By the time Sasuke returned [at the end of the war], Sakura was still in love with the idea of him.

She had put their relationship and romance in the forefront of her mind all of her life. It had been her driving force and defining mindset. When this crazy ass bitch [ily gurl] activated her seal and literally jumped on a pike for her boys, it was the most badass thing she’d ever done. And when she was done with that? She got upset that Sasuke hadn’t noticed/cared. She was fighting for her friends, her family, her village, her life… and all that confidence she had gained was brought down by the fact that the boy she thought she loved didn’t notice.

Part IV [In Which Sasuke Cares… Allegedly]

Remember when Sakura finally got Sasuke to notice her? When he overcame his terminal broodiness and admitted that he was touched that she never gave up hope in him? When he kissed her goodbye with the promise of returning and being worth all of her unfounded love and attention?

Oh… right… that never happened.

I mean… he tapped her forehead like Itachi did to him that one time… Same thing I suppose.

Okay, okay… I might be being a little harsh. I’ll concede that it is a genuine act of affection for Sasuke. But… a minor one. Alright, our broody boi doesn’t like PDA… Still, we’re given no indication that they talked about their feelings before this goodbye. That’s backed up by the fact that she asks to go with him – something she would have done before now if they had. Legit, Naruto got more of a goodbye than Sakura did [two dudes, chillin’ in the woods].

To the best of everyone’s knowledge, Sasuke only stayed in Konoha for about a year after the war. Now, depending if you follow the manga or anime, some of that time might have been in jail. My point is, that a year or less was spent in the village after several years of Sakura loving him from a distance.

At this point, she very well might have learned about the older Sasuke. She might have decided that she did still love him [doubtful on a realistic level]. But then he leaves. We’re not sure for how long, but if we look at Boruto, it’s common for him to leave for long periods of time.

Once again, Sakura is left behind with her memories of the man she thinks she loves [because without a functioning adult relationship, there’s no way to be sure].

Part V [Sakura Achieves Her Nightmare Dreams]

Let’s step into Boruto for this next part. We flash forward to all of our beloved characters in their adult years. I know what you’re thinking ‘Oh! I’ve missed so much! They’re all so grown up!’. Hahaha, don’t worry. They’re not at all the same people.

Since the series is based on the children, we’re forced to fill in some of the blanks ourselves. Sakura – the best medic nin in Konoha. The woman whose strength rivals that of her mentor’s. The woman who mastered the Seal of 100. The woman who grew into her own as a character, even if the driving force was a boy - is living her best life as… a housewife? I mean... maybe?

We don’t know this for sure, and a lot of us hope she runs the hospital or something [because we want all good things for our girl], but have you noticed that she doesn’t wear a headband? A ninja one that is. The girl who worked hard to not be left behind’s whole adulthood is… the woman left behind.

Even if it can be argued that she achieved her goal… has she? Yes, she wanted to be Sasuke’s wife and baby mama since waaaaay too young of an age to be thinking about that shit, but like this? We know from the fact that Sakura fainted when Sasuke came home that he’s rarely there. This means that she probably raised their daughter alone. Even now, she can’t just leave because Sasuke’s always away.

If you think I’m taking libraries with filling in the gaps, I refer you to that one time her daughter basically asked if they were really married. And if you think I’m exaggerating Sasuke’s absence, I refer you to that time he almost killed his fucking daughter because he didn’t know what she looked like!

Let that sink in.

Part VI  [In Summation]

Sakura was a girl that grew up with a false ideal of love. She obsessed over a person that didn’t exist and carried that falsehood into her adult life. When presented with everything she thought she had wanted her whole life, Sakura jumped on the chance because it was the logical move. In gaining everything that she thought she wanted, Sakura lost any personal growth that she had gained by the absence of her obsession aka Sasuke.

Sasuke, who had ignored her as a child, tried to kill her as a teen, and barely acknowledged her beyond using her to revive his clan, can’t be bothered to even appreciate her. Even as he leaves again as an adult, he says goodbye to their daughter [again, with an oh-so-affectionate poke], but simply walks away from Sakura.

The truth is that given the way she blushes and faints around him still, Sakura doesn’t know him. She’s still in love with an idea of the man that grew from the boy she had been obsessed with all her life. She wears the Uchiha symbol on her back as a reminder that she did it. She got the guy! True love wins again! I mean… maybe? He’s fucked her at least, so…

There’s a chance that Sasuke loves Sakura. I think he loves her for loving him. At the very least, we know he’s fond of her… I assume.

Sakura was a character that was used to further the plot of a man. Even as an adult, she’s left to sit and pine as the boys go off on their adventures. She’s a woman that’s stuck in a hell of her own creation – even if she loves her daughter and the things that marrying Sasuke has brought her.

There’s ‘getting the guy’ and being trapped in a toxic idealized relationship. How you choose to see this one is up to you.

[theycallmegothboy]

1-100 >:DDDD REVENGE!!!

FELIXXXXXXXXXXXX >:(( 1. Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?  -spotify  2. is your room messy or clean? -it’s pretty messy i guess  3. what color are your eyes? -blue and grey

4. do you like your name? why? -yeah it’s fine 5. what is your relationship status? -single 6. describe your personality in 3 words or less -certified intrusive thot 7. what color hair do you have? -brown and rn it’s red 8. what kind of car do you drive? color? -i dont have a car 9. where do you shop? -hot topic, goodwill, target 10. how would you describe your style? -comfy emo 11. favorite social media account -of mine, probably discord or youtube 12. what size bed do you have? -twin >:(( 13. any siblings? -i have 1.5 brothers  14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? -probably vancouver, idk canada seems lit 15. favorite snapchat filter? -i like the one with devil horns and a tail but its cute 16. favorite makeup brand(s) -i dont wear makeup 17. how many times a week do you shower? -i used to shower every day, but i dont do anything that gets me dirty so like maybe 3 times but if i leave the house then i shower 18. favorite tv show? -stranger things 19. shoe size?  -8 or 9 20. how tall are you? -5′6 with shoes >:(( 21. sandals or sneakers? -sneakers wtf 22. do you go to the gym? -lol no 23. describe your dream date -making some pie or something together and then eating the pie and then sitting on some rooftop looking at stars 24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? -quite a bit actually but i’m saving up for a phone lol so soon it will be like maybe 10 dollars lmao 25. what color socks are you wearing? -not wearing socks but the ones i had earlier were white (ankle length) 26. how many pillows do you sleep with? -just one but it sucks 27. do you have a job? what do you do? -NO BUT IM TRYING TO GET A JOB BUT THE FUCKIN PEOPLE THERE ARE GHOSTING ME AND WONT REPLY TO MY EMAILS SO LIKE SBJHBJS 28. how many friends do you have? -like 4 lmao 29. whats the worst thing you have ever done? -idk nothing super bad but i do a lot of small shit that makes me feel guilty when i realize what i did 30. whats your favorite candle scent? -juniper rosewood 31. 3 favorite boy names -leo, clay, charlie 32. 3 favorite girl names -ivy, uh... idk thats all ive got 33. favorite actor? -no clue 34. favorite actress? -no clue 35. who is your celebrity crush? -not a celeb but i’d smash danny phantom 36. favorite movie? -nightmare before christmas or edward scissorhands 37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? -no, but my fav book is probably the prince and the pauper? idk 38. money or brains? -CASH MONEYYYY jk probably brains but if your entire personality is being “smart” like fuck off lmao   39. do you have a nickname? what is it? - a bunch of people call me son (see #49, #100), some call me rat, dumdum, goth boy

40.how many times have you been to the hospital? -just once i think when i was birthed. i also went once with my brother cause he kicked some scissors i left out on the floor and it sliced his toe the fuck open and he needed stitches and i watched him get the stitches and almost passed out :/ 41. top 10 favorite songs -please dont make me do this i dont have it in me 42. do you take any medications daily? -yea i take 20mg of vyvanse but i need to get it raised to 30 cause 20 is Not Enough 43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) -i got some dry fuckin skin yall dont even know 44. what is your biggest fear?  -it depends. the dark is a pretty constant one though 45. how many kids do you want? -like 2 or 3 eventually 46. whats your go to hair style? -in my face, looking stupid 47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)  -it’s pretty small 48. who is your role model? -i dont fuckin know lmao  49. what was the last compliment you received? - “i belive in you, my son, you’re an amazing human being“ (same friend mentioned in #100, not actually a parent of mine) 50. what was the last text you sent? -”no it’s a raccoon“ YOU GET NO CONTEXT LMAO 51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? -i dont think i ever hardcore believed in him, maybe i did though i remember sleeping under the tree one christmas eve waiting for him but i was like “oh yeah that makes sense“ i guess 52. what is your dream car?  -i honestly dont give a shit as long as it actually fucking works 53. opinion on smoking? -cigarettes? fuck no that’s nastyyy. weed? that’s fine i guess but wait till you’re like 18.  54. do you go to college? -no. am sophomore n highschool 55. what is your dream job?  -musician/palentologist 56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?  -fuck the suburbs lmao, but also im tired of rural, so like.. semi urban?? 57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?  -no but i take the little soaps >:)) 58. do you have freckles?  -yes 59. do you smile for pictures? -awkwardly, yes 60. how many pictures do you have on your phone?  -dont have a phone but i have like 12 on my computer currently. 4 are of me, the rest are of my cat or random shit 61. have you ever peed in the woods?  -yes 62. do you still watch cartoons?  -cartoons these days kinda suck but like if they were good fuck yeah i would like gravity falls can come hang yknow? 63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? -i had nuggets from mcdonalds today so i guess them? i dont really care 64. Favorite dipping sauce?  -i got sweet and sour but i dont like it that much. that schezuan sauce was great 65. what do you wear to bed?  -wouldnt you like to know? ;))  66. have you ever won a spelling bee?  -NO ive only been in two. the first one i misspelled the word “turmoil“ cause i had never heard it before and the second one i spelled the word “owed“ as “ode“ cause i was thinking like ode to joy and then i felt like a big Fool afterwards :(( 67. what are your hobbies? -lol what hobbies 68. can you draw?  -i am physically able to draw, but not well, no 69 (haha). do you play an instrument? -yeah i play a few 70. what was the last concert you saw?  -i saw Chicago in either georgia or tennessee i cant remember in like 2016 71. tea or coffee? -hot coffee, iced tea. NOT the other way around. (i love both though) 72. Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? -starbucks 73. do you want to get married? -sure why not 74. what is your crush’s first and last initial? -dont have a crush 75. are you going to change your last name when you get married?  -idk maybe 76. what color looks best on you?  -i dont know but i wear black a lot and that’s pretty dope 77. do you miss anyone right now? -yeah  78. do you sleep with your door open or closed? -closed 79. do you believe in ghosts? -on the fence. not 100% “oh my god look at these gHoSt oRbS i need to sage my house!!!“ but i accept that there’s some things i wont understand about the world and that i have no answers to. i wouldnt be surprised if there are, and i wouldnt be surprised if there aren’t. 80. what is your biggest pet peeve? -whatever my adhd decides i viscerally hate with a firey passion right at that moment  81. last person you called -my brother (the 1 of the 1.5 from #13 and the one who sliced his toe in #40) 82. favorite ice cream flavor?  -chocolate is dope 83. regular oreos or golden oreos?  -regular double stuff. if you say golden, mint, peppermint, or thin oreos i’m gonna have to euthanize you, i dont make the rules.  84. chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? -rainbow cause it’s prettier  85. what shirt are you wearing?  -queen shirt from hot topic 86. what is your phone background? -i didnt get a phone between question 60 and now but my computer one is some mountains with the moon in the background 87. are you outgoing or shy? -really depends on who i’m around 88. do you like it when people play with your hair? -YES FUCK AAAAAAA (this girl played with my hair literally once in middle school and i was like oh shit and i had a crush on her until the end of middle school true story,,, so ashley if you’re out there-) 89. do you like your neighbors? -to the left they’re fine and their dog is nice but idk what happened to the horses so that’s sus but that’s where our cat came from so they can hang  guess, behind me they’re fine but their boys are loud, to the right they’re fine, and even further to the right are the dope neighbors and waaaaaaaaaay far to the right is a llama and he’s dope as hell 90. do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? -whenever the fuck i remember to/have the energy 91. have you ever been high?  -i dont think so but i wouldnt put it past myself 92. have you ever been drunk?  -not that i can remember, no 93. last thing you ate?  -sloppy joe from a can 94. favorite lyrics right now -”not gonna waste my life, cause i’ve been fucked up“ 95. summer or winter?  -fall. fuck you 96. day or night?  -night but i like it when it’s actually night and it doesnt get dark at like 4 fucking pm cause that makes me depressed 97. dark, milk, or white chocolate? -dark is good, milk is fine, white is only suitable for fancy stripes on chocolate covered strawberries 98. favorite month?  -i vibe with september 99. what is your zodiac sign -sagittarius (was almost a scorpio but i was holding out >:))) 100. who was the last person you cried in front of?  -in person, my mom like 6 months ago, on a discord call, my friend (i love you by the way, you’re the best,,, i dont think he has tumblr but im just putting it out there) like a month or so ago. i hate crying in front of people, i turn into such a hyperventilating snot monster which is not suitable for human gaze and thats the real tea :/

felix this took like 2 hours of my life i will never get back i hate you and i hope you’re happy with what you’ve done <3 <3

also anyone who wants to stalk me, enjoy this information that im handing to you on a silver platter :)) <3

[hunterenough]

I am Dean.

I am Dean. I’ve identified with the character essentially since the show aired. We’re about the same age, both oldest siblings, and we’ve both had a lot of responsibility thrust on us that we just had to learn to handle. We’ve learned to stuff down what we feel because it’s our job to get shit done, and most of the time, feelings just get in the way. We love deeply, but most people think we’re unfeeling because after 30 odd years of boxing shit up, we’re damned professionals at it.

Right about the time the show started, I’d dropped out of graduate school and was living back at home while I worked up enough cash to find a place of my own. There was very little about my life that I felt was my own, and it was very much like being back in high school. All of the things that I’d learned about myself in the years I was away were erased, and I was very much trying to act like the person everyone thought I still was. I think Dean was the same, that each time he was out on his own, he learned a little more about who he actually was, and that each time they came back together, he had to act like nothing had changed, like he was still the perfect little soldier his dad had raised. I had to act like the quiet book-smart girl my family knew. But we knew, Dean and I, what we were hiding from the world in those moments. For Dean, I think it was a recognition of grey areas, an understanding of what love really could mean, how different his life could be.

I was a lot less successful at hiding it in the long run. I didn’t come out to my family intentionally. My dad happened to come home from work early one day, and found me napping with my then girlfriend. Shit hit the fan, I was essentially kicked out of the house, and wound up living with my girlfriend. I’m really lucky. It was a pretty smooth transition, and my brothers were incredibly supportive. It took nearly a year, but my parents eventually realized that having a queer daughter was not the end of the world, and they’d rather have me in their lives than not. It wasn’t perfect, but I’ll give them every bit of credit for learning to not only accept me, but to show that they had never stopped loving me. My mom even tried to explain that they just didn’t know how to talk to me about it at first. That relationship ended, not well really, but that didn’t matter, life went on.

I met my husband-to-be the same year Dean met Cas. I won’t pretend we danced around starting a relationship like they did, but I think Dean and I had a pretty similar approach. I performed my role as a new girlfriend the way I figured people thought I should. I held hands and we kissed in public. Honestly, that’s not how I’d ever been in a relationship before. I’m not huge on touching in general, less so in public, but nobody had ever seen me in a relationship with a guy, and, after everything, I just didn’t feel like trying to explain myself again.

Performing is exhausting. When I realized that this guy was important, that I really might want him around long term, it felt even more so. Again, I’m lucky because when i started to let my mask slip, this guy fell in love with the real me too. Our relationship settled into a comfortable safe space, and I was happy. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but at the end of the day, he was always there for me.

Dean, I think, had that with Cas. Regardless of their “relationship” status, whether they were best friends or something more, Cas was Dean’s safe place. He was the person that knew all of his weaknesses and flaws and still chose to stand by his side.

Fast forward to season 12. A lot happened in those years, both for Dean and for me. Honestly though, this is where Dean and I found our next huge plot of common ground. In 2017, my husband was diagnosed with cancer. I watched Dean wrap Cas for his funeral pyre while I was sitting in a hospital room next to my husband who was hooked up to IV’s in his arm and a central port in his chest. I completely understood the stoicism of the act. Our practicality and sense of duty serves us well when our world is going to shit. Dean turned to drinking, I learned exactly how to be responsible for my husband’s at home care. I’ll never be able to explain how well I understood exactly what Dean was feeling when he met Billie. I didn’t want to die, but honestly if it was my time, then so be it. I’m not suicidal, never have been, but I didn’t have a lot of fight left in me after I lost my husband.

Now, to the end of Season 15. I think Dean’s characterization after Cas was taken was spot on, but I can say that primarily because nearly all of what we saw was him with others. Remember, we’ve had years of practice stuffing our feelings down, doing what needs to be done, and acting fine.

I held my husband’s hand while he died. I did exactly what I promised him I would and told him I loved him and that everything would be okay. (We’ll get back to how much that part of the finale kicked the shit out of me in a bit.)  

When he was gone, in the living room of our house mind you, because that’s what he wanted, I got shit done. I called his nursing service to report his death, called the funeral home to retrieve his body, and started notifying our friends and family. I smoked a pack of cigarettes and kept my shit together because I knew that if i started to cry, I might never stop. I watched the home nurse and the funeral director prep his body and roll it away, sent his mom home, and when I was finally alone, more alone than I’d been in years, I sat next to his bed and cried until I couldn’t breathe.

By the time my brother showed up a couple hours after I’d called to tell him my husband had passed, I was doing the dishes. It was well after midnight at this point. I’d told him I was good, but...he’s my brother, and he knows me. He came with a bottle of whiskey (another thing Dean and I have in common), and sent me to bed after we’d shared a few shots.

The thing that you don’t know, unless you’ve been through it, is that there is a TON of shit that needs to be done after someone dies. I planned a cremation, a memorial, dealt with insurance companies and our mortgage and all of our joint accounts, and by the time all of that was underway, it was time to go back to work.

When someone you love dies, there is an expectation that you’re going to grieve publically. For me, for Dean, that is unacceptable. If we’re weak, if we lean on someone while we’re dealing with our grief, then we’re letting down the people that depend on us to be strong. Yes, that’s a completely acceptable and normal thing for a good chunk of the population, but that’s not who we are. I can honestly say that moving forward with my life was literally the only thing that kept me going.

So, the final two episodes.

I didn’t question for a second that Dean didn’t talk about Cas’ declaration or his sacrifice. I sure as hell didn’t. I didn’t doubt that he’d make a seamless transition back to casework in the same way I went back to my own job. Having a role to perform that I understood and knowing how to act in specific situations made it so much easier for me to push things down. He had to prove to Sam that he was fine for the same reason that I did, so that the people who love us wouldn’t be watching our every move waiting for us to run screaming off the next cliff. My brother, the same one who showed up with whiskey, did essentially the same thing that Sam did. He didn’t push me to talk. He helped me clean all the medical supplies out of the house, made sure my house and car weren’t going to kill me, and texted me weird random memes daily just so I would text him back.

I also didn’t question the empties in his bedroom or the coat in the trunk. In private moments, when no one is around to see, it’s ok to loosen the relief valve on all of the shit that’s been tightly contained. I slept in my husband’s hoodies and emptied my bar. I understood those things. No one knew about the nightmares, and I ignored the fact that I was drowning in a million memories of my husband every day I spent at home.

To me, those things go hand in hand with losing the person you love most. Regardless of whether or not you think that Dean loves Cas romantically, you can’t argue that Cas was his life partner in a way completely different from Sam. Sam is his responsibility, Cas was his choice. He loves them both, just differently.

Disregarding the revival of an old character for no apparent reason and the fact that it was one of John’s old cases, I didn’t struggle with the handling of the vampire scene in the barn either. I don’t believe that Dean would have ever killed himself intentionally. He would have seen it as his responsibility not only to survive, but to live. Cas just died to save him, again, and there’s no way that Dean is going to let that be for nothing. For me, it was finally going to a Supernatural convention and taking a trip to Paris. For Dean, it was Pie Fest in Akron. They drove fifteen hours for pie. Live, don’t just survive.

He didn’t intentionally throw himself at that hunk of rebar. It was a byproduct of doing his job. But, I think, his reaction to it was the most real thing that could have happened. He didn’t want Sam to call an ambulance or try to save him. He didn’t want Sam to do anything but give him permission to stop fighting. He needed to hear that it was ok.

I’ve never been close to my own death. I don’t have that perspective, but in the year and a half that my husband fought cancer, I was taught to understand this moment as well. When we moved to the palliative stage of my husband’s treatment, the part where medical care is no longer about treating the disease but is now focused on providing comfort, we talked about everything. The thing that scared my husband the most was leaving me behind. He worried about how I would deal with my grief, he worried about me being alone, he worried about how I would manage a sixty hour work week and four pets and a four bedroom house and a two hour round trip commute. He didn’t worry about being dead, he worried about me being alive.

The night my husband died, we all knew it was coming. There are a variety of medical indicators, blood pressure changes, muscle changes, and most critically, at the very end, the fucking death rattle. I cannot explain this sound, I hope you never hear it, but you’ll know if you do. So, at the very end, when my husband was fighting for every breath, I held his hand, and I told him I loved him and I told him that everything would be ok. It was my way of telling him that he didn’t have to fight for me anymore, that I would be ok without him. It didn’t have to be true, but he had to hear it. I couldn’t let him die with all of that worry and guilt swirling around in his head.

Hearing Dean ask Sam to tell him it was ok hit me so fucking hard. For me, it was the clearest declaration of his love for Cas that he could have given. He literally looked at his brother, who he has sacrificed his life for in a myriad of ways, and asked for permission not to fight anymore.

Sam did the same thing for Dean that I did for my husband. He recognized that Dean would hold on as long as he could just to make sure that his little brother would be ok once he was gone. He knew Dean was miserable and suffering, so he held Dean’s hand, told him he loved him, and that it was ok. It didn’t have to be true, he just had to say it.

To be honest, I didn’t have a problem with Bobby being the one to welcome Dean to heaven. In fact, I think he was a great choice, regardless of whether or not it was a Covid related decision on the writer’s part. Bobby was his dad, someone he trusted, and was the logical person to let Dean know that Jack had revamped heaven before sending Dean out to do what he had to do to find his peace. I didn’t expect an emotional scene, it would have been out of character for both of them.

I didn’t have a problem with Dean climbing into Baby and just driving. Two years after losing my husband and I still do the same thing when the shit in my brain is moving too fast for me to deal. Baby is home to him, a place he feels comfortable and in control, and driving is the best way he knows to find some perspective.

I didn’t have a problem with the montage of Sam’s life. I thought it was terribly constructed, but the content of it was predictable. Sam stayed true to character and did what he asked of Dean before hopping into the pit. He went out and made himself an apple pie life. I would have been surprised and disappointed if it was anything different.

The thing that made me hate the finale was the end. When Dean turned around on that bridge, what we should have heard was “Hello Dean.” That hug should have been Dean and Cas. Regardless of whether or not you think they shared romantic love, Cas was family, name on the table and all. I didn’t need a love confession, I didn’t need a kiss, I didn’t need some grand romantic moment. I just needed that thank-Jack-you’re-not-stuck-in-uber-hell hug like the one Benny watched in purgatory or that Mary saw after the soul bomb. Dean’s been in heaven for a bit, long enough that Sam could have witnessed this one from the passenger seat with a grin.

There’s no way Dean would have found peace without seeing for himself that Cas was safe, and you’ll never convince me otherwise.

[blackcoffeeandblankpagess]

1/2 so i’ve been dealing with (read ignoring) an ankle/foot injury for a number of weeks/months. i kept telling myself it was fine because there’s no bruising etc and i was marathon training and had consulted with a pod who showed me how to strap etc. in reality it’s not getting better and it’s been about 10 weeks since the original injury. the marathon has been cancelled. ive pulled back on training but i think i probably need a proper rest... i’m scared that ill put on weight but ashamed that

2/2 this is my fear because i am the first to say it does not matter and weight fluctuates etc etc which i DO believe but i also have a history of anorexia and disordered eating and find change hard. also im scared of losing fitness and having to start again.. i don’t really know what my question is. tell me to take time off? going to try and get a go app & mri scan for see if there’s any visible damage to ankle/foot but don’t know that i’ll be able to with all the restrictions atm... sigh.

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okay hi I weirdly love that you sent me this message, don’t get me wrong that is a shitty spot to be in and I’m sending you a big hug, BUT I feel like I could have literally written this myself I resonate SO much so....hopefully because of that I can say something somewhat useful.

First of all. Take a break. I mean it. Just stop everything for like...a week to start (obviously longer is fine too, but a week might seem less terrifying at first). That doesn’t mean oh I’ll take a break from running but bike 20 miles a day...no! I am also someone who has an EXTREMELY hard time giving myself permission to rest (aside from my rest day) because I will internally debate until the end of time over whether or not it’s necessary etc. etc. and honestly I get a huge sense of relief when a medical professional tells me to take a break because I’m like oh okay cool this is literally their career they know what they are talking about and I’m listening to their advice. BUT especially if you are injured and you ARE injured from what I am hearing here even if you do not technically have the scans to prove it yet, you NEED to rest. If you keep going and pushing through the pain you are going to dig yourself deeper and deeper into the hole and it is going to take WAY longer to dig yourself out. Also, especially given your ED history, I would be extra precautious about handling injuries and ensuring proper recovery. Obviously I know literally nothing about your injury or your ED background, but I would not take a lack of bruising to mean that it’s nothing serious (I’m not trying to scare you here but I feel like sometimes we need to have someone just shove the truth in our face so here you go). If it is something like a stress fracture for instance (which again, I have NO idea the details of your issue so maybe it isn’t), then you might not *see* anything but your bones would LITERALLY BE BREAKING and the more you run on that the more you are breaking them down and the recovery could move from just needing a few weeks rest to needing surgery. Not to mention the long term damage you would be doing to your body. Something I had to really, really come to terms with after I got my stress fracture was realizing I had been underfueling for YEARS and even if I wasn’t actively trying to restrict myself, I had gotten used to not eating enough and that meant my bones were breaking down more and more every. single. day. and it is easiest to build bone density when you are young and gets progressively more difficult as you age so the choices you make today are going to affect you deeply in the future. It’s easy to see it as just one extra run or one skipped snack but the truth is that for those of us who buy into those things we never really stop at one, and all of those “just this one time”s add up. And it’s not good. This past summer I forced myself to take a week off of literally everything not because anything was physically wrong but because I realized I was exercising way too much and significantly undereating and I knew I was on the fast track to hurting myself and causing long term damage.

To your second point about fear of gaining weight- first of all I have so, so, so much respect for you for being able to admit that fear because realistically a lot of us have it, I certainly dealt with it when I was injured, and even if we rationally know that in the grand scheme of things it ~doesn’t matter~ the truth is that coming from an ED background the thought of weight gain is probably going to cause some anxiety! like you said I could talk all day about why gaining weight doesn’t matter and you are more than a number etc. etc. but you and I both already know that. Maybe this is a problematic approach that I’m about to share but honestly if someone had told me this when I first found out about my stress fracture it probably would have relieved anxiety and especially given these wild times I think relieving anxiety is prob a good thing- when I had my stress fracture I didn’t workout for four months. Literally NOTHING. no cross training. no swimming. no biking. no walks. I was on crutches. I literally had to be driven to class. My activity level was at a -12. I ate almost exactly the same as when I wasn’t injured (which, led me to learn I was DEFINITELY under eating), and I gained MAYBE like....5 pounds or less (or maybe none at all it honestly was probably 99% in my head). Literally not enough for anyone at ALL to notice except for me because my pants felt a tiny bit tighter. This honestly made me question a lot of things. For one, I knew I needed to really up my intake when I was allowed to be active again. Two, I started to reallllly question WHY I felt the need to do all this activity if being completely inactive didn’t lead to my body changing much. It made me realize how much I underlyingly relied on exercise to micromanage my body. It was a lot to think about.

ALSO. I didn’t get my period regularly for about 4 years and once that stress fracture hit I made it my MISSION to get it back (and I did!) because that is a huge red flag and I knew that if I wasn’t getting it, that once my bone healed even if I was cleared to run again I was just on track to get another injury because sure maybe THAT injury healed but my shitty bones were still shitty and that meant another injury was just as likely. I decided that gaining a little weight (whatever that meant) was critical  because I would much rather be a few pounds heavier than constantly switching between running and injured. Also, more importantly, I want to be able to be active throughout my whole life and if your bones are shit at 21 (when I got my stress fracture) you are probably going to be really f**ked once you are actually the age that people’s bones start to deteriorate. 

The most important thing I have learned is that everything you do in terms of over exercise/under eating has HUGE LONG TERM CONSEQUENCES and it is SO easy to ignore that when you are in the thick of it because often you don’t feel those consequences until years later but listen, you do not want to wait for things to get really bad before you decide to start trying to truly, properly recover.

It’s really easy to get caught in that inbetween place of not doing horribly but also definitely not feeling as free as you could when it comes to food/body stuff. Ask yourself WHY you are scared of gaining weight and like I said, operating under the assumption that we know weight gain is okay etc. etc., realistically your body is probably not going to go through some wild change if you just take a break. Think about it, most people barely exercise and they eat whatever and they are all FINE! It’s easy on the internet/social media to feel like everyone is out running 23498239432 miles and eating kale or whatever but most people really aren’t like that and they are getting along just fine.

Also, something that helped me was realizing that I really do not want to spend my whole life constantly terrified that if I eat too much or take a break or whatever my body is going to change etc. etc. and I realized that if i don’t want to spend my whole life worried about that then at SOME POINT I was going to have to just start living how I wanted to because 1. once you start living how you want to you realize the world does not in fact end and you can have your cake and eat it too (ha). and 2. you aren’t going to just suddenly wake up one day and not care about these things anymore, if you really want to be free from it you need to make a conscious effort to live the life you actually want, not the one that is stemmed in fear

In the past year I have grown SO much in terms of food/exercise. And my body has literally not changed. I was holding on so tightly to this perceived control that was entirely unnecessary. Your body is designed to want to stay generally the same (unless of course you are currently in an unhealthy spot) and when you just chill out for a sec you realize that your body is capable of doing naturally what you thought you had to be micromanaging and taking care of all along. 

I will leave you with a quote that I heard one time somewhere (how’s that for a source) “You have a lot more to gain than you do to lose”

By letting your body heal

By not making decisions out of fear of gaining weight

By eating what you want

etc.

This was long af and I may have rambled but I hope it helps. Like I said, I’m not trying to scare anyone but also sometimes feeling a little bit of that “oh shit wtf am I doing” feeling is the kick in the butt you need. (but I know it is super duper hard and I am sending you all the love and support and also hoping your foot is something minor)

So yes, take a break, talk to your dr, be super honest with them. When I had my stress fracture my dr and pt were both like ok here’s the deal- rest and eat a lot of food. so I would advise that ;)

[boojersey]

content warning for this long ass fucking story: lots of medical fuckups and body horror in the doctors office. this is super graphic depiction of my doctor visit which entailed a procedure. you have been warned >;)

i went to the foot doctor today to get my lifelong ingrown toenail issue corrected on one toe after i stubbed it so bad the nail split down the middle and the entire top half of my toenail unseated and snapped off and this was easily the weirdest doctor visit ive ever had so strap in folks. so i was talking to the doctor and she was telling me about the procedure and i was like i get to watch right and she was like uh ya if u want ! and she was literally drop dead beautiful in an intelligent and passionate slightly frazzled doctor way and i was so fucking chill every second she was in the room.

the nurses come in and tell me theyre gonna apply the anesthetic and one of them is brand new and in training and i was like UH i need to be laid down. bc if i see the syringe while you do this i WILL pass out. and they were like sweet ok just fine and so the anesthetic involved two syringe applications (since both sides of my toenail get ingrown) basically ballooning up my foot with some anesthetic and as they did this they “froze” my toe with i believe nitrous? it was weird bc it wasnt the same chemical i was familiar with that was a numbing agent but it was a freezy thing anyway. anyway the first syringe goes smoothly. the second one???? FUCKING snaps in half on the way in. the plunger literally *pop* snaps in half and theyre like ...........thats never happened. so they go for another syringe and im like. heave ho in the brain trying to be ok but i was SMART AS SHIT before going to this appointment because i knew what the surgery would entail and i Wanted to watch. so i drank about half a twisted tea and i was feeling very liquid courage otherwise i literally mightve cried during this appointment. anyway. they come back and administer round two again? and THE SAME THING HAPPENS. and my toe is NOT NUMB YET and so i FEEL as the nurse says well im not wasting another needle AND MACGYVERS IT PRETTY MUCH TREATING MY TOE LIKE PLAY DOH AND SQUEEZING ANESTHETIC AROUND SWISHING IT THRU THE FLESH. ALL WHILE I FEEL HER FORCING THE ANESTHETIC IN BY HAND AND NOT BY PLUNGER BASE.it was seriously terrible.

nurses eventually finish. they have to bring me a cup of water. anesthetic didnt totally do its job. i still feel on the bottom of my toe. they say its fine. im thanking the gods im tipsy. i feel as she pokes the bottom of my toe with the surgical pliers again and im about to ask if they can just do it anyway because im so terrified of more anesthetic. the beautiful doctor reenters and im suddenly feeling completely better. she tells me the fact i can feel only on the very bottom is no big deal.

i dont give a shit about the anesthetic. she tourniquets me up at the base of my toe (this is usually something that my phobia kicks in with since its usually a sign im getting a needle; pretty doctor is here so all is well and my anxieties do not appear) and goes ‘still wanna watch?’

the nurse who was training the other answers first saying im skittish. i say yes. her jaw drops. ‘you cant take the needle but you can take watching your toe get ripped apart?’ i nod eagerly. i do not tell her this is because i watch dr miami’s snapchats and ran a gore blog in my teens. i can tell the doctor likes me. she goes into a story about how she’s kind of glad about the new safety features corona brought because she is less able to smell patients with foot odor. as shes saying this shes inserting something inbetween the receding nail and the skin it has so long bruised and hurt in my life and in one smooth motion pries my skin apart. i watch, rapt, as she sections off the piece of the nail she deems ingrown with a pair of scissors, then takes the pliers and like a first grader’s baby tooth yanks and removes the nail. the piece that had been causing me so much pain was ENORMOUS. im talking like a centimeter wide which is a lot for a nail. it’s jagged and sharp, having grown only into whatever flesh it could. she pries out a few more bits, then picks up an object that reminds me of a microscopic spoon? if you’ve seen the tiny kitchen videos it reminds me of what an ice cream scooper would look like on there. she takes this and cores out the area like an eye on a potato. its insane to watch happen to myself, especially with the reminder that its happening to myself in that theres still a dull thumping feeling regardless of the anesthetic during this procedure, theres just no pain or Feeling feeling. she repeats this on the other side, then tells me about the chemical shes going to be inserting into the now gaping wounds in my toe. it’s got a 99.9% chance of making these changes to my toenail width permanent, meaning i should never be plagued by a purple and sore toe just because my brittle nail broke the day before. im practically crying in relief as she takes pointed qtips dipped in this chemical and spin cycles them into the wounds like a pneumatic drill. she gets up and says i should think about the medical field if i dont get queasy at such an event, and i let in on my phobia to the room of her and the two nurses. theyre all clearly confused by the parameters of it as i tell them i have a tattoo and pierce my face, i just cant Look at a syringe or ill pass out. the doctor leaves and im left in her wake of calm as the nurses wrap my toe in bandages. theyre red. it looks like a clown nose for my foot.

i hobble out of the room and schedule my follow up for the other foot. i need a sharps bag taped around the lower portion of my sock because it’s raining as i climb the stairs of my apartment. i have had to piss like a motherfucker the entire procedure but was too afraid to interrupt. i cant wait for the rain to let up to take my socked foot up to the third floor.

my mother tells me its disgusting that i cant shower for the day. i go into my room, drink the rest of the twisted tea, and promptly fall asleep for four hours.

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