#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

[crippled-peeper]

this is kind of just like. a general complaint. ive had back issues for years and years. severe enough that my entire upper body is warped. but everyone just told me im "too young" to have back problems...my mom even lied and said i didn't have scoliosis, and literally just admitted to me in january that she knew about it and chose not to do anything...i could have been braced or something as a kid...but now i have severe throbbing pain, unstable joints, and possible nerve/tissue damage, and im having to pay for everything relating to it. absolute joy. and even though my problems are minor compared to yours, it is really fucking frustrating when people just blow off having a medical disability. im sick of the "too young" thing, or people saying "have you tried stretching?" i did PT for two years now and it's only gotten worse...they even said it'd take over 10 years to make any changes. but yeah yoga will fix it im sure. people are soooo normal about medical issues. ugh

you know what’s kind of wild is that even though you say your problems are “minor” compared to mine you’re actually living through the very first pages of my spinal disability story

My mom did the exact same thing where she like… pretended I did not have scoliosis (despite doctors telling her I had it many times) until it was so irreversible and bad that they had no choice but to fuse my spine as my bones had grown completely misshapen.

They sent me to PT (like you were) and they danced around it a lot but ultimately nothing really could be done. I remember she (my mom) even eventually took me to get fitted for a brace, but by then it was far too late and they told her it wouldn’t do anything.

One year later at 15 i had my spinal fusion at UNM children’s hospital. I had an extremely rough recovery and was in the ICU for days followed by months of rehab and relearning stupid shit like how to put a shirt on again and how to put socks on

due to the mechanical forces on the spine, I probably would’ve never gotten my severe herniations and spinal cord injury above my 10-level fusion if I never had the fusion in the first place, too.

So I’m often plagued by thoughts that are exactly like “what if you took it seriously? where would I be right now? Probably not here, maybe somewhere better” that are really upsetting sometimes. If only she’d gave a shit all those years ago, right? but also it’s been so long now and she’s actually dead now (from Covid of all things) so I’ve got nobody to be mad at about it anymore

Keep advocating for yourself, even if you are young, and even if your spinal disability seems “minor” because spinal disabilities have this awful tendency to escalate over one’s lifetime . Don’t be afraid to seek the opinions of multiple doctors if you ever consider/need surgery. It’s not “doctor shopping” or anything shameful . It’s the rest of your life that’s going to be affected.

[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.

[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.

[swampmurd3rs]

speaking to the void ii

its the last day of the 2022 and i feel like i havent accomplished as much as i wouldve liked to. its unfortunate really. i made art, and a lot of it. i didnt try anything new, activity wise. the art i made has changed a lot, but my interests have remained about the same. college has been hard, i feel like if im not doing something, im failing. it sucks because i would love to relax but i dont have the capability to “relax” in my body. im always go go go and i never take time for myself. sometimes i want to change that but most of the time, i dont care enough about myself to even eat and shower. my weight has been a Big Deal this year and i feel so disappointed in myself, honestly. was it because i started a new medication? yes. should i have taken measures to make sure i didnt gain 50lbs in a matter of months? also yes. this shit sucks and i wish i had never got on nexplanon. that shit literally ruined my life lol. it doesnt help that ive been unemployed for months and, therefore, havent been active like i used to be when i was working. im hoping to get a job in january, im tired of being at home all the time. i get bored so easy and its tiring being on my own all the time. since november last year, ive had levi as a friend and boyfriend. its been over a year we have been together and i now have someone who cares about me and doesnt ridicule me for being mentally ill. its nice but i feel like i dont deserve it sometimes. this relationship is the best thing to ever happen to me, i think. i dont want anyone but levi, he is my everything. even through my bad days and shitty mental health issues, hes stuck by me and not given up on loving me the way he thinks i should be loved, wholly and truly. i love levi so fucking much. in retrospect, my boyfriend and friends made this year bearable. like yes, shit still kinda sucks a lot but at least im here. 2022 was a ride i wasnt ready for, i dont know how i couldve prepared myself though so. thanks for everything, heres to 2023 and becoming a better me.

[angiethewitch]

this is one of the most ridiculous mental health takes ive seen.

removing it as a disorder means demedicalising it. a disorder is something that affects your every day life and impairs the way you think and act. PTSD is a disorder because the symptoms match the description. do not tell me my full body flashbacks, dissociation, extreme anxiety, severe depression, substance abuse issues, panic attacks, phantom pains, suicidal thoughts, self harm, eating disorder, intrusive thoughts, sometimes flashbacks so vivid I literally cannot tell if I am still in that time period and I think im 14 again, inability to sleep without medication, and many more symptoms I cannot think of right now that literally occur on a daily fucking basis, is a normal way to live. natural and valid? of course. that's what I've been learning in therapy, that my brain is simply trying to protect itself.

demedicalising the illness is only gonna harm people because we need medication and treatment, and saying its not a disorder and boiling it down to a coping mechanism is never going to help. the brain literally changes from trauma; your amygdala goes from tiny to swelling up and constantly on red alert. that's a physical change in the brain due to trauma. your brain literally changes. ptsd is the amygdala thinking you're always in danger because you were at one point. taking the term away and saying it isn't a psychiatric condition is unbelievably stupid for a doctor to say and so extremely irresponsible. I would never trust my doctor if they had social media and were spewing this shit on there. it was classed as a disorder for a reason, because PTSD actually changes your cognitive function and how you perceive the world. nobody is saying that it's the fault of the victim or survivor of the trauma, it's recognising it as a medical disorder so those people can fucking get treatment. just saying uwu it's normal and okay <3 is not gonna help me, it's not gonna get me therapy, and any decent doctor of the mind knows that each brain is different and responds a different way.

also? maladaptive coping mechanisms aren't bad, they just need to be addressed IN THERAPY. doing drugs was my maladaptive coping mechanism, and it kept me alive long enough to get therapy. you cannot treat millions of people online through a tweet and it is so irresponsible to say this kind of thing. all this is gonna do is give people who don't know any better reason to carry on with their self destructive behaviour because a doctor online said it was normal and not disordered. I know that because I know full well at 16, 17, even 18 I would have used that excuse to keep harming myself.

and...

shocker.

[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.

[captainscanadian]

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 6)

My Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Summary: Bucky Barnes is ready to fix the mess that your parents had created, but he doesn’t want you to know about it.

Word Count: 7076

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Steve (Platonic), Doctor!Steve x Lawyer!Peggy

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse & Alcoholism, Surgery, Organ Donation, IV & Needles, Emotional Distress, Physical Pain, Drugs, Hospital Stay, Homelessness, Mentions of Death & Cancer

A/N: Recently a lot of people have been asking me if Bucky can murder the reader’s parents. As much as I understand your strong hatred towards them, the answer is no. Sorry not worry. This one’s dedicated to Naynay for being the reason why I started posting all of my crappy writing on here. <3 Pic & gif are not mine, credits to the respective owners!

It was only a matter of time before Dr. James Barnes had been paged down to the Emergency Room for a consult. A patient had come in complaining of chest pain and shortness of breath. This eventually led him into the OR to repair the woman’s dissecting aorta, a surgery that typically lasted a few hours with no complications. It was a procedure that he had performed many times before. He need not fret over it, despite it being an emergency procedure than a pre-planned one like the one this morning. Perhaps, it was the unpredictable nature of heart surgery that had been so attractive to him. He could not deny that he liked the adrenaline rush that came with literally racing death itself and beating it fair and square.

By the time he had gotten out of surgery, it was way past lunchtime and Bucky was starving. After getting Shuri to inform the patient’s family about the patient’s current status, he found himself grabbing a salad from the hospital’s cafeteria and retreating to the doctors’ lounge for some rest before he was to get hit by the next cardiovascular crisis at hand. The unexpected circumstances that came with the job were perfect for a guy who had once wanted no commitments. But now to say that his attitude had changed would be quite the understatement. Nevertheless, Bucky sucked it up and went about his day like any other surgeon in the hospital.

While a part of him was feeling uneasy, thanks to the escalation of things that he had returned to, he knew that all he had to do was push through it all until his shift would finally be over. But he was unsure what to do next. He wondered if he should go back down to the post-op ward and see you. As much as he wanted to return to his place at your bedside, a part of him was hesitant. He was unsure about whether you would want him there, especially after what had happened with your mother coming to see you. He did not want to risk being shooed away by you.

After all, it made him wonder if you could not even trust your own mother, how you could be able to trust anyone else. All of a sudden, your hesitance to become close to anyone in the hospital made sense to him. After all, your mother had been the source of all of your trust issues. And as much as he was willing to accept that you might never ever trust him and let him into your life, he could not deny that it would hurt like a bitch either way. He was not ready to put himself through that, at least not yet.

“Steve, you’re still here.” Bucky noted upon seeing his best friend lying down on the sofa once he entered the lounge. “Your shift ended hours ago. Why haven’t gone home, you punk? You’re one of the only ones who actually have a life outside of the hospital. Why are you even here right now?”

Sleepily flipping through the channels of the television to find something decent to watch, Steve looked up to see his best friend and gave him a weak smile. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere, Buck, not after what happened to Y/L/N. Being her emergency contact is a huge responsibility and I feel like I should stick around, you know, just in case... I don’t want any her to have any other complications.” He told him with a sigh and a shrug of his shoulders, sitting up to face his best friend who sat down in front of him.

“How is she?” He asked, biting down on his bottom lip as he picked at his salad for a moment.

“She’s... awake, talking. No further complications, no infections. She’s in a bit of pain but she’s a little hesitant about the amount of drugs she puts in her body. Nat redid the sutures herself and closed her up so they’re all... still in place. Wanda’s sitting at her bedside to make sure she doesn’t move at all, just to keep them still intact. Thor’s watching the door to make sure no one comes in or leaves without being noticed.” He explained. “She’ll be fine, Buck. She’s... recovering.”

Nodding as he bit down on his bottom lip once more, the dark haired doctor continued to pick at his salad. “You should go home, Steve. I’ll be here and... I’ll call you if anything happens. Just go home, get some sleep. You haven’t even seen Sarah in two days. At least, spend the night at home for her and come back in the morning.”

“No, Buck, it’s fine... I don’t mind sticking around the hospital for a few more hours. I’m way too sleepy. It’s definitely not safe for me to be driving home on my own and Peggy had a meeting at the firm this afternoon. She said she won’t be back until she’s picked Sarah up from daycare, so I’m just hanging out here, waiting for my girls.”

A soft chuckle escaped Bucky’s lips as he finally took a bite of his salad, leaning back in his seat and putting his feet up against the coffee table. “You’ve really got your shit figured out, Steve. Work-life balance, marriage and kids...” This was true. Compared to him, his best friend really did have his whole life figured out. The two of them had always been competitive despite being best friends since childhood. From the SATs to their undergraduate years to the MCATs to Columbia Medical School, even their surgical residencies thereafter, Bucky and Steve had always come in neck and neck at the top of their classes. But when it came to family life though, it seemed like Steve was already way ahead of Bucky.

“You know, you could have that too if you really wanted to.” Steve reminded him, a sigh escaping his lips as he fidgeted with the remote in his hand. “If you’re willing to commit and sacrifice being a complete workaholic to make time for a wife and kids, you could...” He was not an idiot. He knew that Bucky wanted the kind of life that he had with Peggy, even if he had denied it countless times before. He could not help but want that for his best friend too. After all, he knew that not only did Bucky want to settle down and have family, but that a part of him also wanted it all with you.

And knowing of your past, Steve wanted that for you too. He knew that you deserved to be unconditionally loved by someone, for you had not experienced unconditional love ever before. He wanted that for you because he understood how much Bucky loved you. If only things did work out in your favor and the two of you finally accepted your feelings for each other. Steve can only hope or sit back and watch, for he was certainly not a meddler of things.

The dark haired doctor let out a sigh before shaking his head, taking another bite of his salad and trying to ignore Steve’s words. “Yeah, well... that’s not what I want.” He lied, even though a part of him knew that the other could see right through his bullshit. “I mean, I do love her but... I don’t think she’d ever love me back, Steve. I know for a fact that she won’t ever accept me. So if it’s not her, then it won’t be anyone else.”

Before Steve could even say anything in response to that, the door burst open with a rather annoyed Peggy Carter entering the doctor’s lounge. “I got your text, darling, and I must admit that I’m not surprised at all.” She announced, plopping down on the sofa next to her husband. “Hello, Barnes.”

“Peggy.” He gave her a nod, continuing to pick at his salad before taking another bite.

“Where’s Sarah?”

“Her cousin Sharon wanted to get her some lunch. She had just woken up from a nap when I picked her up from daycare. Seemed a little cranky because she was hungry.” The woman replied with a shrug. “And I didn’t think she should be here when we’re talking about this, you know? Sharon said she’ll bring her back in an hour or so. Gives us enough time to talk, you know?”

Bucky grew confused at her words and raised his eyebrows at Steve. “Talking about what?”

Peggy turned around to look at Steve. “Have you told him yet, Steve? Because he sure does look too calm to know what happened.”  

Steve let out a sigh as he rubbed his eyes. “I’m way too tired to deal with how he would react so I thought I’d wait until you were here. You’re better at breaking this kind of bad news than I am.” This was partially true. Being a doctor, a cardiothoracic surgeon at that, Dr. Rogers had certainly been trained on how to deliver bad news to his patients. Most of the time, such bad news included the unforeseeable factors: the patient’s condition receding beyond the surgeon’s control, surgical complications and even death.

But with what Steve was forced to deal with at that moment, though certainly not as bad as patient death, it was Peggy who was much more equipped to deal with such dilemmas. She was a Cambridge-educated attorney who happened to work at one of the most reputable law firms in New York. She was certainly used to dealing with extortion cases, not to mention that you had also approached her for legal advice on becoming an organ donor to your abusive father.

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky asked as he sat up on the sofa and set down his food, turning over to look at his best friend’s wife. “Peggy, what is it?”

Peggy let out a sigh as she sat back in her seat. “I’ll tell you but I want you to promise me that you won’t go off on a complete fit of rage or do anything absolutely stupid.”

He let out a sigh as he ran his hand through his hair. “If this has something to do with Y/N, then I'm not making any promises I know I can't keep.” He told her before turning to Steve. “Did she tell you something? Did she... tell you what happened with her mother?”

Steve bit down on his bottom lip before leaning forwards in his seat. “Her mother... told her that her decision to come forward and donate her liver to her father lead to... them having hundreds of thousands of dollars in medical bills. And now she’s emotionally blackmailing Y/L/N to pay for them because they couldn’t afford the surgery.”

To say that Bucky was completely unsurprised by this revelation would be an understatement. After all, this had exactly been his suspicion ever since he had found out about your parents coming down to Brooklyn Hospital in the first place. They had not come searching for better medical treatment from Dr. Romanoff. They had come in search of a way to extort money from you. But finding out that your mother’s attempt at extortion was the reason behind you bleeding out like that only made the man feel angrier at your parents. But he did not show it. “I mean, I saw that coming.” He said with a shrug, returning to his salad.

His calm and composed reaction made Steve and Peggy turn to look at each other for a moment.

“What?” Steve asked, blankly.

“I got suspicious.” Bucky replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “When Y/N told me that her formerly abusive slash estranged father was admitted here, I was... a little surprised. I knew she was from this small town near Philadelphia so, how in the world did they manage to get all the way to Brooklyn, let alone at the hospital where their daughter worked? I mean, it all did seem like a coincidence but... I didn’t think that there was any way that they did not know... that their daughter worked there. I... had no reason to trust her parents, right? And I was... right. I mean, they tracked her down... they came here... and I don’t think a liver transplant was what they came looking for. I think they came here to tie Y/N down... emotionally... and try to get money from her to pay for the outstanding medical bills that they have in Philly. But their plan didn’t work. Y/N volunteered to get tested because she... has a heart. She cared about doing the right thing and being the better person. She cares... about... everyone but herself, even her abusive parents. When Y/N volunteered to get tested, do you remember what happened, Steve? Her mother wouldn’t even accept it at first, because she knew that the surgery would mean more medical bills and they weren’t financially stable. She’d just lost her job and they don’t have insurance. Y/N had to get Romanoff to explain how long they would have to wait until UNOS found him a match just so that she would agree. This has been their motive all along... to get money from her. Because they... went bankrupt when Y/N was a little kid and the mom had to work as a maid to keep things going, dad drank away all of their money and now that mom doesn’t have a job anymore, hey... look, the child we abused who ran away from us is working as a doctor in New York and making six figures so why don’t we just go over there and do what we always did best... emotionally abuse her and get her to pay us a large amount?” He could not help but roll his eyes, huffing as he leaned back in his seat. “Fucking pieces of shit, they are...”

Peggy Carter’s eyes grew so wide at Bucky’s speech that Steve almost feared that they might have popped right out of her skull. “Holy shit, Barnes.” She covered her mouth as her jaw dropped. As a mother to a little girl herself, she could not understand how anyone could put their own child in such a situation. To say that she was disgusted by your parents would be an understatement. She was beyond glad that you had managed to break free from their abuse when you did, but the fact that they were still very a part of your life at that moment pissed her off. She needed to find a solution to all of this and make sure that they never bothered you again.

“How do you know all of this?” Steve asked. “How do you know about them going bankrupt when she was a kid and that she ran away from their abuse?” After all, he was well aware that you had not disclosed these events of your past to anyone but him and his wife. He knew of your circumstances with your parents, because he was your emergency contact. You had told Peggy in case there was a legal dilemma to your decision. You wanted to ensure that the fact that you had reported their abuse all those years ago did not get in the way of you donating your liver now. But how did Bucky know all of this? Steve had no idea.

“Yeah, the whole ‘outstanding medical bills in Philly’ thing is news to the both of us.” She agreed, looking at her husband before turning over to his best friend. “I don’t think she intended to tell anyone about this, not even to Steve and I. And... as much as I would like to believe that she trusted you enough to tell you any of this, I think she would have at least told us that you were also aware of her past. But we know Y/N and she wouldn’t have just told you any of this that easily. So, let’s just cut to the chase... What did you do, Bucky?”

The blonde haired doctor’s eyes grew wide as he realized the change of tone in his wife’s voice, for he knew that this was the tone she often used in court. “Bucky... please don’t tell me that you...” A part of him did know what his friend might have done, but he still refused to believe it until he admitted it himself.

“I got Becca to look into her parents.” He confessed.

“Bucky!”

“Are you insane?!” The hospital’s in-house attorney exclaimed, her British accent rolling off of her tongue with such ease and poise despite the fact that she was fuming at the man’s actions. “You fucking hired a PI to look into a patient?! Do you even realize how many potential lawsuits could possibly come out of that?”

“You violated Y/N’s privacy, Buck!” Dr. Rogers added, shaking his head in a slight disappointment. “How do think she’d feel if she ever found out what you’ve done? She’s already got a lot of trust issues and you’re not making this any easier for yourself!”

“I mean, I had to do what I had to do!” The dark haired doctor defended himself. “I get it, Steve. I violated her privacy by hiring Becca to look into her parents and her abusive childhood with them. Sure, she might hate me for it. I don’t care. I only did it because I care about her, Steve. I knew that something wasn’t right when her parents showed up at the hospital. As much as I wasn’t okay with her donating her liver, I respected her decision and her bodily autonomy. She had the right to do whatever the fuck she wanted and I had no say in that whatsoever. But that did not stop me from being suspicious about her parents. I mean, I couldn’t ask her because she wouldn’t tell me. I knew that you knew a lot more about her past than any of us, Steve. Of course, she tells you everything. But is she going to tell me if I asked? Not even a chance. And are you going to tell me if I asked you what was up with her and her parents? Also no, because you’re the most righteous human being on this entire fucking planet who cares about honor and all that bullshit and you trained your God damn fellow to be just as honorable and righteous and follow in your footsteps... which has now cost her a piece of her liver and a whole lot of blood.” Bucky paused to take a breath before turning over to Peggy. “And of course, you knew everything too, Peggy. Y/N told me that she came to you for legal advice, just in case. But I also knew not to ask you either, because you would have given me a whole lecture about attorney-client privilege and I saved us all a hell of lot of time by just going ahead and hiring Becca to do the work for me.”

Steve let out a sigh as he stood up from his seat. “I need a cup of coffee.” He announced as he walked over to the kitchenette and started to make himself a cup.

“Can you also make me a cup of tea, please darling?” Peggy asked Steve as she rubbed her temples, her eyes not leaving Bucky’s. “You’re insane, Barnes. You’re absolutely insane and you know that. And to even call you the godfather of my child, good lord, what have we done? You’ll be such a terrible influence on her when she’s older, I’m sure of it.”

Dr. Barnes finished the last of his salad and nodded, chuckling softly at her remark. “I know, Peggy. They say that love makes you crazy... and I’ve been doing some pretty crazy things lately. I won’t even deny it.” This was true. After all, Bucky had been doing more than just sit at your bedside while you were asleep. A week after he had found out about your make shift clinic at the homeless shelter, he had made an anonymous donation of a million dollars to the shelter in hopes that a part of it would be able to fund your cause. And for the next two years, he would go on to do much crazier things when it came to you.

Whether it was buying an extra cup of coffee every morning and bringing it over to you just to see you give him a sleepy smile in gratitude, or waiting for you to get out of surgery every other night and lying about a late night craving for Indian food just so that he could give you a ride home, there were certain things that he had started to do that would make anyone think he was crazy. But to him, it was all a part of him trying to become a better person, because you had made him want to be a better person.

Even last year, he had startled the entire surgical department meeting by suggesting a fundraising gala to help raise money to increase the number of pro bono surgeries that were being performed at the hospital. Chief Stark had been surprised that Dr. Barnes had been the one to even make that suggestion; his bet would have been on Rogers. But without much debate, the gala had been approved by the hospital’s board of directors. Tony had put Bucky in charge of throwing the ball itself, which the man had surprisingly managed to pull off.

James Barnes had made yet another generous donation to his own cause this time, while also convincing his three sisters in helping him organize the event so that others could also take part in the act of giving back. He had approached his retired parents in hopes that their contacts could help him find more sponsors. And thanks to you, he had hired the lovely Indian couple who owned the restaurant you had been living above to cater the event. The rest of the event had been paid by him, with some of the doctors also pitching in.

It had been a rare occurrence for Dr. James Barnes to take part is such formal events, so there was no denying that his attempts at organizing one and showing up at that was quite refreshing to see. He had donned a designer tuxedo, his luscious long hair coiffed into a neat bun. He looked prim and proper, to say the least.

But if one had observed him rather closely that night, they would have noticed that his bright blue eyes were constantly darting towards the entrance throughout the whole event. Even when he had taken to the stage to make a speech and had commanded the attention of an entire banquet hall, no one had noticed how his gaze was constantly wandering towards the double doors that led his guests inside. Perhaps no one except Wanda Maximoff was able to figure out that this entire event had been Bucky Barnes’ attempt at channelling his inner Jay Gatsby.

The bottles of champagne had been popped, poured into flutes and emptied long before, dinner and dessert served promptly thereafter. It was not until after the DJ had opened up the dance floor did James finally receive the long-awaited arrival of the woman he loved. And in an instant, his lips curled into a smile at the sight of you in your silver-grey evening gown. He knew that the shimmer and sequins were very unlike you, but he appreciated the effort you had taken to follow the dress code.

As you noticed the host of the evening upon your entrance and made your way towards the dance floor to greet him, you could not help but notice that he cleaned up quite well, in his tuxedo and his hair in a bun. Oh how attractive he looked in that bun, you could not deny it. You rarely saw him put his hair up, except for that one time when he had showed up to a consult with his hair tied up with a Hello Kitty hair-tie a while back.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought of how handsome he looked that evening and you quickly shooed away your thoughts, walking up to him with a bright smile. “James, hey... I’m so sorry I’m late. I didn’t mean to miss the dinner and half of the party. I had a last minute consult at the ER and I had to do an Endarterectomy. It took longer than expected and by the time I got home, showered and got ready... it took me a while. I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” His smile was genuine and one that brought you a sense of calm. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it, things like that are not always in our hands. I wasn’t even sure if you’d show up, to be honest. I know that... social events like these are not really your thing. At least I’m glad you decided to spend the rest of your evening here instead of being cooped up in your little clinic. It means a lot, doll, really... thank you for being here.” He bit down on his bottom lip rather nervously as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. It was an act of politeness to say the least, a sign of gratitude that you had even bothered to show up late than never, even though you did have an excuse to not be there.

You felt your cheeks heat up once more, a sense of warmth in your heart as you felt his lips against your cheek. There was something gentle about the way his warm breath lingered against your skin, but you quickly looked down to hide the blush. You could not help but grin widely at his understanding nature and you looked around the ball room.

It seemed as though a majority of the guests had already left. The DJ had been playing a slow song and naturally, Steve and Peggy were at the center of the dance floor. You must have heard a thousand times during your bi-weekly dinners with the Rogers’ of the story of their first date and their first dance. Even after years of being married, the two of them still looked so in love. You could not help but want that for yourself. But you felt slightly greedy for it. After all, you had always believed that you did not deserve to be loved by anyone.

The blonde haired doctor noticed your gaze on him and gave you a wave, his wife still leant against his shoulder as they swayed along to the song. You chuckled, shooting him a quick thumbs up before turning to James. “Looks like you’ve really pulled this off, Dr. Barnes.” You noted, seeing that the gala had been quite the success. “I must say that I’m impressed.”

“I couldn’t have done it without your help though, doll, thanks to you and your undying loyalty to the Singh’s.” He politely remarked. “The food’s a big hit- hey; have you even had a chance to eat anything since you got out of your surgery?” It had taken Bucky a moment to realize that it was way past dinner time and knowing you and the way you had rushed to get here after your surgery, you might not have eaten.

“Um... no.” You shook your head.

“Come on, let’s get you in the kitchen and grab you some of that delicious food.” It had been a rather impulsive move on his part, when he had just casually grabbed your hand and lead you away from the dance floor.

You had been caught off guard by his actions but you paid no heed to them anyways. You had assumed that it was just his way of being a host, making sure that all of his guests were well fed and taken care of. After all, you had paid for your ticket to attend this gala and he probably just wanted to give you your money’s worth. You would not have imagined that his actions were a sign of his undying love for you.

He walked out of the ball room before turning down the hallway to where the kitchen was, complimenting and thanking a few of the wait staff along the way before entering the kitchen.

You stood at the door, watching as he made his way over to the head chef who was also your landlord. He really was a wonder of a man, you thought. How thoughtful and kind had he really been, for as long as you’ve known him? To think that the two of you had managed to not get along in the OR at some point seemed to surprise you. But that fall out had only made the two of you become the closer. There was no denying that.

After asking the woman to fix you a plate of food, he walked back to you with a cheeky grin on his face. “I told them to set aside your plate in case you showed up. They’ll just reheat it in a moment.”

You could not help but let out a chuckle at that, raising an eyebrow nevertheless. “How did you know that I would even show up though, James?” You asked, curiously. “After all, I do have a tendency to make plans at first and bail on people.”

“I just had a little faith that you would be here... considering that it’s for a good cause and you’re not the kind of person who turns away from doing something to give back.” He replied, grinning widely as he realized that he really did know you well. “Plus, you did pay for the food, the champagne and a little dancing. As a responsible host, I wanted to make sure you did get your money’s worth.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you walked past him to enter the kitchen, greeting the lovely Indian chef with a hug before taking the plate from her. “Well... since I’ve got my food here now, where’s my champagne?”

As the banquet was wrapping up, Bucky had excused himself to check on the clean up. The red carpet had been rolled up, the table linens piled up and the chairs stacked neatly on top of one another. The DJ had taken down the speakers and loaded up his equipment in his van, the cleaning staff was busy sweeping the confetti off the hard wooden floor.

You found yourself wafting down your plate of food in the kitchen while the staff got busy with doing the dishes. Chatting away with the lovely Indian woman who continued to pile up the remainder of the food onto your plate, you managed to eat until you were full. You did not realize how hungry you had been until you had eaten second and third helpings of the Singh’s signature biryani, but you were grateful to the woman for wanting to feed you well. After all, this was the closest experience you had to a mother’s love.

James had not returned until an hour later, having sent off the last of his guests home before dealing with the payments for the DJ and the linen rentals. He let Rebecca take care of the rest before excusing himself for the night, grabbing the last remaining bottle of champagne from the fridge before making his way over to you. “Sorry that took a while, doll.” He told you as he chuckled, holding up the bottle. “But I got what you asked for...” He could not help but notice the aluminum tray of food that you were holding and he raised his eyebrow at you.

“What? I had three plates of food but there was still some left over. There was no way I was going to let some good biryani go into the trash. Plus, I figured that you wouldn’t have had a chance to eat anything either, being a good host and all. So, what do you say, we get out of here and find ourselves a really nice late night view of the bridge and... have a little picnic?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him before letting out a laugh.

“I... think I’d like that.”

Bucky was taken by surprise that you had even made this suggestion, but it was not very unlikely of you to be concerned about wasting food or watching someone else go hungry either. Having left the venue of the banquet together, the two of you somehow managed to end up on the roof of your loft home somehow. You had been the one to suggest it though, for you wanted him to see the view from up there.

It was a mid-August night, the air was breezy. You kicked off your heels and sat down on the concrete step as you looked up at the stars. The night was quiet, even though there was the occasional laughter of passerby’s walking past the restaurant that stirred up the silence every now and then.

He had taken off his coat and wrapped it over your shoulder, in case you got cold, a plastic fork in his hand that was picking through the aluminum tray as he ate the food that you had packed up for him. “Did I tell you how lovely you look in that dress, Y/N?”

“Did I tell you how much I like your hair like that, James?” You asked, teasingly. “I have to admit, you clean up real nice.”

“You too.” He chuckled as he took a bite of his food, looking around the neighborhood that he had been so familiar with when he had been younger, but now he felt like a stranger. After Steve had moved in with him, he rarely came down to this part of town. While it was home to his best friend, to him it had been an insignificant part of Brooklyn, at least until you had moved here. Nowadays, it seemed that he came by this neighborhood every few days whenever he’d offered you a ride home and to see that these trips only made him miss his former nanny would be an understatement.

He missed her dearly, for the woman had raised him as her own. He knew that it was people like her who needed the care and concern of people like him. It was why he had thrown this gala in the first place, not even Steve knew about how close this was for Bucky.

Perhaps if Sarah Rogers had the money to afford the best care in Brooklyn, her doctors would not have managed to misdiagnose her with pneumonia. Her cancer could have been caught sooner and she might be alive. These pro bono surgeries were just a way for him to prevent such tragic deaths that could have been easily avoided.

You popped the bottle of champagne, laughing heartily at the fizz that spilled slightly on your gown. But you could care less about it. “You first.” You told him as you held the bottle towards him.

Taking the bottle from you and taking a swing, he turned over to look at you with a smile. “Why do you still live here, Y/N?” He asked you, curiously. “You’re not a fellow anymore. You’re a board certified cardiothoracic surgeon and a good one at that. I’m sure you can afford a nicer apartment with the amount you get paid.”

“I mean, I could... but I don’t really want to leave my little loft.” You replied, shrugging as you took the bottle from him and took a sip. “It’s been my first real home in forever, James. It’s the first place that I moved into... that wasn’t a campus dorm or a sorority house. It wasn’t supposed to be some kind of temporary accommodation.” Like a foster home. “I mean, I could find myself a bigger apartment but... it’s just me. I don’t take up that much space. I don’t like taking up too much space. I’m fine living here. It’s nice and cozy. It’s home.”

“But aren’t you worried about the safety hazards, Y/N? You live above a restaurant, the stairs are too narrow. In case of an emergency, you won’t be able to get out quickly.” He noted.

You let out a sigh as you handed him the bottle. “You know, after spending a cold winter night in the street... any other place can feel the safest.” You admitted, biting down on your bottom lip. “Plus, I work so much that I’m barely home anyways. It’s fine, James. I’m fine here.”

“Alright... if that’s what you say so.” He nodded, giving in since he knew that he could not change your mind that easily, taking a sip of the champagne before setting it down for a moment. He set down his tray and stood up from his seat on the step. “Anyways, I think the roof has enough space for just the two of us.” He remarked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “And I think I owe you a little dance. So if you wouldn’t mind, Dr. Y/N/N... shall we?””

You could not help but roll your eyes at that. “I believe you do.” You remarked as you stood up, brushing off the back of your dress before slipping back into your heels.

Bucky put on a song before setting down his phone, holding out his hand with a bow of his head. “M’Lady.”

You giggled softly as you tried your best at a curtsey, only to trip over your gown and grab onto the man’s hand as you laughed.

He let out a hearty laugh as he helped you regain your balance, his arm wrapped around your waist as he began to slowly sway along to the music.

You blushed slightly as you held onto him, your ear pressed gently against his chest, the sound of his beating heart bringing you a sense of solace as the song began.

You look so wonderful in your dress I love your hair like that The way it falls on the side of your neck Down your shoulders and back We are surrounded by all of these lies And people who talk too much You got the kind of look in your eyes As if no one knows anything but us Should this be the last thing I see I want you to know it's enough for me 'Cause all that you are is all that I'll ever need I'm so in love, so in love So in love, so in love You look so beautiful in this light Your silhouette over me The way it brings out the blue in your eyes Is the Tenerife Sea And all of the voices surrounding us here They just fade out when you take a breath Just say the word and I will disappear Into the wilderness Should this be the last thing I see I want you to know it's enough for me 'Cause all that you are is all that I'll ever need I'm so in love, so in love So in love, so in love

 “Well, the fact that you deliberately admitted that only makes me wonder what kind of crazy thing you’re about to do next, Barnes.” Peggy noted as she took her steaming cup of tea from her husband. “Because I know that look on your face. You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he stood up from his seat, tossing away the container that had held his salad in the trash can before walking over to his locker. “I’m not planning anything, Peggy. I’m just... coming up with a solution to Y/N’s dilemma.” He told her with a shrug as he retrived his lab coat and put it on over his scrubs.

“Also known as planning.” Steve clarified as he sat down next to his wife and took a sip of his coffee. “Spill it, you punk. What are you going to do?”

“Well, right now... I’m going to go down to the pediatrics ward because Clint asked me to cover his shift for the afternoon.” Rolling his eyes, Dr. Barnes grabbed his stethoscope that hung on the hook in his locker. He turned around to look at Peggy for a moment. “Peggy, out of curiosity, how long will it take for you to draft a contract?”

The lawyer gave him a confused look. “It really depends on what the terms on this contract will be?”

“How about something along the lines of... ‘by accepting these two million dollars and an additional allowance of three grand’s per month... we, the Y/L/N’s agree that we will leave our estranged daughter alone for the rest of her life, we’ll never try to contact her and we won’t try to extort any more money from her,’ or something like that?” He asked her, smirking as he tossed his stethoscope over his neck and crossed his arms against his chest.

“Bucky, no.”

“I pay off her dad’s medical bills and give them a little extra so that they don’t come crawling back to her ever again.” Bucky stated with a shrug. “Steve, you and I both know what Y/N does with her hard-earned money. This clinic is... her everything. If she pays them off, she won’t be able to keep it going. I don’t think I can let that be taken away from her.”

Steve let out a sigh as he pondered Bucky’s suggestion for a moment. “As much as I agree with you, Buck, this isn’t your call to make. It’s hers. And even if she did find out about you wanting to do this, you know she won’t let you. Hell, she wouldn’t even let me pay them off when I offered to do it this morning.”

“She... doesn’t need to know, Steve. That’s why I’m telling the two of you. Peggy drafts a contract; I write a cheque, the Y/L/N’s sign the contract and take the money that they came for. Y/N will be happy once they are out of her life for good and that’s all that fucking matters.”

“But... Bucky, what even is the point of you doing all of this if Y/L/N doesn’t even find out about it?”

[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.

[imagine-loki]

Atlas: Space, Moon

TITLE: Atlas: Space

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 5/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album. 

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for, but my brain insisted on doing.

This series will be less like a multichapter fic and more of a one-shot compendium, but that they all interconnect in one way or another. It will revolve around Loki and Becca’s relationship (Taking Turns, Glow, Helmet Heists–don’t worry, more Loki-Charlie stuff will be along) and I will use those one-shots as reference to the timeline. Each chapter will be one song, used as inspiration for the story.

Chapter 5: Moon

Summary: Hell hath no wrath like an out-of-the-loop Tony. Are you ready for this to get kinda soft? Because it gets kinda soft. (Happens previous to Taking Turns.)

Warnings include: Language. Loki wishing heat-stroke had taken him, soft and vulnerable frost giant fluff, and two idiots who just need to fucking kiss already.

=

[Instrumental track-really good reading music, btw]

Loki groaned pitifully as he awoke. His whole body felt like it had been dipped in lead and tossed to the bottom of the deepest ocean where he fell into an ever-deepening trench. Except he wasn’t dipped in anything. He wasn’t in the ocean. He was in the Med Bay, after, most likely, being pulled out of the mission, and, after the humiliation of passing out, he just wished he was drowning.

He tried moving his fingers first, opening and closing his fists tentatively to gauge the ache. He found the dull throb a reminder that he was, indeed, an idiot. His skin looked pale–well, paler than usual–and several lines seemed to have been placed directly into his veins with fluids. He wondered how Banner had even managed to get the needles to pierce his skin, but that was neither here nor there.

A noise of pages turning beside him, rustled. Loki bargained with the universe to end his miserable existence now, rather than have to face the person he knew was occupying the chair beside his bed. The universe denied his plea, as it always did. He wondered why he even bothered asking, anymore.

Becca looked about as tired as he felt. Though her hair was tied up in a sleek braid that was draped over her shoulder, and her clothes looked fresh and kempt, her eyes had dark bags beneath them. They were also rimmed in red. She had been crying. Surely it had not been over him, had it? With a groan, he sat up.

“Welcome back.” Her voice was soft, though hoarse and her face was littered in small, half-healed cuts. He must not have been asleep for too long. He was almost hesitant to break the calm quietness of the moment, though that was quickly solved. 

The sound of Bruce repeating Tony’s name in a plea echoed in the empty medical facility. A second later Tony, red in the face, was in front of Loki’s cot, pointer finger gesturing the Prince.

“Do you have any idea how fucked we could have been because of your little stunt?” Loki had the good sense to look down in shame, hair forming a dark curtain around his face to hide the flush creeping up his neck. “If Becca hadn’t been in position to get to you, we’d be retrieving your corpse right around now. Do you understand that, Loki? Dead! You would survived every other fucking thing the Universe had thrown at you and you would’ve bowed out because of fucking heat stroke!”

He growled, seemingly no longer capable of speech and knocked over a tray, making both Becca and Loki start.

“I had to pull Thor from his assignment because I had no idea if he was going to pass out, too. We had to scramble the whole roster to finish the mission because you weren’t bothered to tap out when you reached your limit! We nearly fucked this whole op because of you. You are in such deep shit, Mischief. I swear to God!”

With that sentiment hanging in the air, Tony turned tail and stomped his way out of the hospital room.

Loki turned to Becca, his eyes looked pained as he took her in. “I’m so–” She raised a finger, wordlessly telling him to hold his thought before she pointed back at the Med Bay entrance where Tony was rushing back in. She seemed almost amused by the man’s predictability. In reality, she was just used to seeing this song and dance routine being done with Peter.

“A frost giant in 110 plus degree heat? Really? You should have told us, Loki!” He roared and Loki stilled as his blood ran as cold as his species name. “You should have told us the second you started working here. Let me be clear. I don’t give a shit what the hell you are. You can be an ice giant, a fae princess or a goddamn opossum–you don’t keep that from us!” He raked his hair frustratedly, trying to swallow the rest of his yelling and barely succeeding. “I would have given you a different beat on mission. I would have given you both a different beat.” Loki opened his mouth to protest, but was promptly cut off. “Do you think I don’t know you went on that mission because of Becks? What kind of a moron do you take me for?”

“Not a damn word, Loki,” Becca warned, smirking. “This is not the moment to be clever.” Loki pressed his mouth to a thin line, glaring shortly at the woman for denying him his only defense mechanism at present. 

Tony rolled right through the joke, too keyed up to be amused. “You are grounded, do you hear me? Grounded! No more missions until I decide that you’ve learned your damn lesson. No more leaving the compound for pizza in the city. No special passes to Asgard. Completely grounded. Am I understood?”

Loki surprised himself by nodding effusively to the demands, back pressed against the headboard as though he intended to meld into the wall behind him. Tony stomped back out, muttering out loud about idiots who were going to give him a heart attack. Loki glanced back at Becca, who was sitting crisscross, book abandoned on the portion of her thighs left bare by her shorts. In the scratchy paper gown Loki felt entirely out-of-place in her presence. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to want to leave.

Despite her neutral expression, he could see something akin to hurt lurking behind her eyes. “I didn’t tell–”

“It’s fine,” Becca cut in, waving him off. “It was none of my business. I get it.” She sniffed delicately, her eyes dropping to the checkered floor of the hospital as if it help some great secret.

“Rebecca…”

She glanced up and unwound her legs, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “I’m glad you’re OK.”

When she made to leave, Loki wrapped his fingers around her wrist and held her still. “It wasn’t because of you or because I didn’t trust you.”

The woman looked like she debated not arguing but thought better of it at the last moment, letting the frustration pour out of her every pore. “That doesn’t change the fact that I was the one who watched you almost die without knowing the reason.”

“I didn’t want it to change how you saw me,” he explained for reasons he could not comprehend.

Becca scoffed, leaning down to get eye level with him. He could feel her breath on his face and at any other point in time, he would have celebrated being in this position. Something in the back of his head told him he shouldn’t cheer this time around.  “Literally no one gave a shit what you looked like as we dragged your giant-ass, blue body onto the jet. We only prayed you wouldn’t die before we hit ally airspace, you fucking moron,” she explained slowly, voice trembling and eyes watering. “We work with a bioengineered, sentient gem–you’re not that fucking special.”

Loki swallowed thickly, suddenly terrified of the burning rage reflected in her warm eyes. It was bright, beaming, smoldering fear that fueled it. Fear that she would lose him before they managed to land somewhere that might have been safe to intervene on him. Fear that she would lose a colleague, a friend. Fear that she would never make him pay for keeping her in the dark for so long. Loki felt every last bit of that fear, magnified tenfold to become his own.

He leaned his forehead onto her clasped hand. “I didn’t want you to know who I really was and chance scaring you off.”

“Are you dumb or what?” She snapped, gritting her teeth in an effort to contain her tears. “Why would I judge you over something you have no control over? After all we’ve done? All we’ve lived? I thought I showed you who I was a little better than that.”

“It wasn’t about you–”

“Evidently it was or you wouldn’t care if I saw!” She snapped before sighing, brushing his tangled hair back with her free hand. “You worried me a hell of a lot.” There was so much held back in her voice, he could tell, but he was not about to try his luck and pressure her into revealing her secrets. 

“I’m sorry, Rebecca.” Loki had never apologized for a damn thing in his life, but he couldn’t help but let the words slip now, as she watched him with worry in her eyes and hurt in her soul.

“Scoot over, Evil Smurf,” she teased softly, and the words landed as painfully as if she had called him my love. He wanted this. He wanted this playful pain, but he couldn’t reason to himself why. 

Swallowing a groan, he shifted over in the hospital cot. Becca clambered in easily and draped her arm around his shoulders, feeling him tense momentarily. After a second, the warmth of her digits seeped into his skin, and he melted into her side. When he let out a small sad whine, she pressed a kiss to his temple and allowed him to hide his face into the crook of her neck. Whether their silent agreement to shelve their discussion was due to shock of their mutual vulnerability or pure exhaustion, it was unsure. They merely accepted the conditions and sat tangled up, with only the sound of their breathing.

That’s how Bruce found them, asleep, an hour later when he went in to change Loki’s IV bag.