#at least my supervisor for my clinicals seems really nice

[ilyberrymuch]

nothing better than talking with your clinical advisor about your placement schedule and having her go 'oh no! your schedule for your clinicals is all wrong! and you aren't meeting the university's policy for amount of hours! You have to email the director!'

so you email the director and he goes 'meh I approve your schedule as long as its matches these other requirements' (which it does although he said 8 am to 3 pm and it will actually be more like 7:30 to 2:30 but specifics dont matter since its still the same block of time)

and then even though technically everything is fine now, the advisors lack of chill freaked you out so much that now you worry everything is still wrong and you will be penalized

🙂just have to keep telling myself that everything is fine and grad school is a privilege

#grad school #its literally only been 3 days since classes started again and it has already been so stressful 🙃 #I understand its the advisors job to make sure I meet my requirements but she had absolutely no chill about it #and then it was all fine anyway! #but I still feel uneasy #at least my supervisor for my clinicals seems really nice #berryposting #rant post #personal

[salembutnotthecat]

tw emeto, fever

introducing another new kid, but he’s related to vanessa and willow!

also additional tw for an empty threat of harming an animal (it is empty, it was only used as a motivator) just in case.

“How long are you going to keep knocking so… gently?” Vanessa asked.

They’d been standing outside the door of Willow’s friend and clinical partner, Milan Kovalev-Wang, for a solid thirty minutes.

“He wasn’t there for clinicals today,” Willow told Vanessa, “I just want to check on him.”

“How can you be friends with the guy your boyfriend cheated on you with?” Vanessa asked

“Ex boyfriend,” Willow corrected, “And it was easy, we already had something in common.”

“Right, because everyone wants to have a best friend where the common denominator is a shitty ex,” Vanessa said, “Fine, let’s go.”

Vanessa actually didn’t mind Milan. He was nice enough, and from how he and Willow seemed to act with each other, neither of them knew what Joseph was doing when he did it.

Vanessa still wanted to see Joseph’s head on a stick, for sure, especially after breaking Willow’s heart. But, Milan got a pardon in Vanessa’s book, at least for now.

“Well what do you suggest I do?” Willow said, “I don’t want to be rude I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“He might not be able to hear you,” Vanessa said, “Wills, you need to be louder.”

“But won’t that bother the neighbors?” Willow asked, “You do it if you’re so certain how to make him answer.”

Vanessa needed no further permission, she knocked hard on the door.

“What’s his middle name?” Vanessa asked

“Nikita,” Willow said, “What are you-“

“Milan Nikita Kovalev-Wang, if you do not open this door I will personally break it down,” Vanessa yelled through the door, “I swear to god if you will not open this door I will personally skin Zvezda and turn his fur into a beanie.”

“Zvezda is just a kitten,“ Willow whined, “Leave him out of this.”

Vanessa held her hand up, pointing to the door.

Sure enough, the lock clicked. The door opened.

Milan leaned against the door frame, hair messy, scrubs wrinkled, and looking half out of it at best.

“You are such a ray of sunshine Vanessa Lillian McAllister,” Milan scoffed, tucking his mouth in his arm as he coughed.

“Well, I would be nicer if you answered your damn door,” Vanessa said, “Where’s my baby?”

“Zvezda is not your baby,” Milan said, allowing both girls in.

Vanessa sat on the floor, and Zvezda came out of his tree, going to Vanessa’s lap immediately.

“Right, forget that I feed you and Vanessa threatens to skin you,” Milan snapped at the cat.

“I threaten you that I will skin him, not him,” Vanessa said, petting Zvezda, “And for the record, that’s only when you make Willow panic.”

“You two are nauseating,” Milan said, groaning and placing his hand on his stomach, “Extra nauseating today.”

Willow rolled her eyes, before standing in front of Milan, carefully feeling his face for fever.

“I was just worried, you didn’t come to clinicals, and you weren’t answering your phone,” Willow said, “Or the door.”

“How long had you been out there?” Milan asked, heading into the kitchen in search of a small cup for water. Anything to make his throat hurt less and mouth taste even a little better.

“Not long,” Willow said, following him, “You should sit, you don’t look good at all Milan…”

“Thirty minutes,” Vanessa answered the question, holding Zvezda like a baby, the cat purring intensely and nestling up against her.

“I’ve been vomiting since like 2:30,” Milan said, “I was either actively getting sick or too exhausted to move off the floor.”

“This morning or-“ Willow started.

“Yesterday afternoon,” Milan said, “Nothing more embarrassing than losing your lunch in front of your supervisor while you’re supposed to be doing vital rounds.”

“Doctor Sanchez is really understanding,” Willow said, “I’m sure he didn’t think any less of you. Speaking of vitals…”

“You want me to tell you or you want to take them?” Milan asked.

“Well, why not both,” Willow said, “Where’s your kit?”

“In my room, on my dresser,” Milan said.

“Ness, my dear,” Willow said, “Can you grab it?”

“Yeah,” Vanessa said, trying to remove Zvezda from her person, where he had since crawled up her sleeve and rested awkwardly in a position that was mostly in her hood but clinging to the sleeve covering her shoulder, claws digging into her sweatshirt, “Zvezda is coming with…”

“Of course he is,” Milan said, turning to Willow, “Heart rate is elevated from dehydration and strain, no rebound tenderness anywhere, bp dipped around 4 this morning but that was after I’d thrown up for a solid… forty minutes with maybe thirty seconds to breathe between rounds.”

“And a fever that feels like it’s right on the borderline of home treatment and hospital treatment.” Willow said, “I’ll check you too, see if there’s anything concerning… well… more concerning.”

Vanessa set the kit on the table before heading back into the living room with Zvezda.

“You know, for an EMT, you sure hate treating people,” Willow teased over her shoulder as she got to work checking Milan’s vitals.

“First of all, license is expired,” Vanessa said, “Second of all, I can’t do much when you’re working on him too. And third, I’m being blessed by a cat being affectionate and you’re just mad.”

“I’m mad you’re not giving me affection, there’s a difference,” Willow answered.

“Did you not hear me when I said you two are nauseating?” Milan said.

“Someone is anti romantic,” Willow said, “What happened to that Leo kid?”

“Nothing good,” Milan said, leaning back.

Willow grabbed the stethoscope, listening to Milan’s heart rate and then hesitating slightly before listening to his stomach.

Milan could feel the nausea in his throat, forcing him to swallow hard and take a deep breath.

“Well, no appendicitis, stomach virus most likely, IJessica had one, Hayley too… me and then Vanessa got it from me,” Willow said.

“And I’m still not happy about it,” Vanessa said, shaking a feather toy for Zvezda, the small bells jingling as Vanessa talked.

Willow rolled her eyes, putting Milan’s stuff on the table, “I’ll disinfect those..”

“I don’t feel good,” Milan said, a sick hiccup jolting his chest.

“Yeah, she just said you had a stomach virus you idiot,” Vanessa said.

“As endearing as your sarcasm is,” Milan started, but his words were lost in a gag, prompting him to cover his mouth.

“Oh, shoot,” Willow sighed, “Come on let’s-“

She went to help him stand. But he’d already darted off as his feet were on the ground.

Milan lurched towards the bathroom, his steps hurried and unsteady. Willow trailed closely behind, her brow furrowed with worry.

Each retch wracked Milan's body, his throat raw and his breaths shallow. Willow swiftly soaked a soft cloth in cool water, tenderly dabbing his clammy forehead. She could feel the tremors coursing through his body, his muscles strained from the relentless assault of sickness.

"Deep breaths, Milan," Willow whispered, trying to ease his distress. "It'll pass. Just try to breathe."

Vanessa peeked around the corner, her eyes reflecting her concern. "Do you need anything?"

Milan shook his head weakly, still clutching the edge of the toilet. "Just... water."

Swiftly, Willow fetched a glass of water and a small bowl, placing them within Milan's shaky reach. She knelt beside him, her touch gentle as she rubbed his back in slow, reassuring circles.

After what seemed like an eternity, the intense spasms of sickness began to relent, leaving Milan drained and utterly spent.

Milan practically collapsed against the wayy, leaning against the cool bathroom tile, his eyes squeezed shut, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Maybe you should lie down," Vanessa suggested, her voice tinged with concern.

Willow nodded in agreement. "Let's get you settled in bed. You need to drink and try to rest."

Assisted by Willow and Vanessa, Milan shuffled back to his room, collapsing onto the welcoming softness of his bed with a weary sigh. Willow handed him the glass of water, urging him to take small, soothing sips.

"Rest now," Willow murmured, after Milan seemed to struggle to simply drink some water. She brushed his sweaty curls off his face.

“I’ll be right here, okay?” Willow said.

-

“I don’t mind helping him,” Vanessa said, “But, does he have anyone else? Like in general.”

Willow shook her head, “His dad’s in the military, his mom is a porn star, so neither of them are around a lot. His dad wishes he went to the military too, and his mom is, well, his mom,” Willow said, rubbing the sleeping Milan’s shoulder steadily, a continuous pattern of comfort for her friend.

“And then, I mean Milan is always studying or working,” Willow said, “The only person he might’ve had was Joseph. Before we knew what Joseph was doing to us. And unless Joseph was a real different man than when I was with him…”

“He wouldn’t have been much help either,” Vanessa said, “I remember that much of the little shit.”

“Yeah, so, just me,” Willow said.

A sick growl came from Milan’s stomach, followed by a soft whine.

Willow sighed, continuing to rub his shoulder.

Willow exchanged a worried glance with Vanessa, both understanding the gravity of the situation. Milan lay there, pallid and weakened by the illness coursing through his body. His vulnerability pulled at Willow's heartstrings; she knew she had to do something more to ease his discomfort.

Willow was a med student. And she knew she couldn’t be so emotionally attached in the emergency room, but when it came to her loved ones, it killed her to see them suffer.

Vanessa sighed, “Let's see if we can find something light for him to eat. Either it’ll calm down his stomach or he’ll have something to come up. I’ll check his kitchen."

Willow stayed close to Milan, softly murmuring words of reassurance to him as Vanessa hurried into the kitchen, scanning the cabinets and fridge for anything that might soothe his queasy stomach. Amidst sparse supplies, she managed to unearth a sleeve of crackers.

Returning to the room, Vanessa offered the crackers to Willow. Willow took them, nudging Milan awake.

"Here," Willow said gently, propping Milan up slightly. "Try to eat a little. It might settle your stomach.”

“Or give you something to throw up so your stomach stops sounding like that,” Vanessa shrugged.

Milan weakly reached for a cracker, nibbling at it hesitantly. His stomach gurgled in protest, he could taste water and acid in the back of his throat.

"Good job," Willow encouraged, even though he froze in terms of nibbling the cracker, her voice soft and comforting. "Just take it slow."

Milan felt sick, and hot. He felt like he was boiling. A sure sign of his he most certainly was going to be sick again.

“Willow did you bring over the trash….” Milan started. He felt like he couldn’t move, if he got up now he’d vomit all over the rug in his bedroom, or the hallway.

“Yeah,” Willow nodded, turning and grabbing it, handing it over, going back to brush Milan’s bangs out of his face, “I always forget how curly your hair is…”

Milan wanted to laugh. But instead, his stomach lurched, and the traces of crackers quickly left his stomach, followed by the water. And then, acid and saliva.

Milan coughed, hard, heaving up small traces of bile with an abundance of saliva. Willow didn’t flinch, holding Milan up.

Vanessa started rubbing Milan’s back and also bracing him to make it so Willow wasn’t harboring the whole burden of Milan’s weight.

“Just take it easy,” Willow said, reassuring him, “You’ll be okay…”

#emeto #emeto fic #emeto cw #emeto tw #fever cw #fever tw #sickfic

[wanderinglotus7]

Rhythm & Groove

At the end of October, I will be at BIDMC for 3 months. Orientation started June 20th; however, I didn’t dive into the work around July 20th (practically when I returned from Costa Rica). To refresh everyone, I am a social work advocate for Adelante. The human trafficking program both for BIDMC and Brigham and Women’s Hospital (BWH). For the longest of time, I was confused on how I needed to split my 40 hours during the work week. I was doing more outside of Adelante than actually with Adelante. For BIDMC, Adelante falls underneath the Center for Violence Prevention & Recovery. CVPR works with individuals who have experienced domestic violence/intimate partner violence, sexual assault, trafficking, and community violence. Trafficking cases are rare. I mainly encounter patients and clients experiencing DV/IPV situations. As for community violence, I would say gun-shot wounds and/or stabbings. Either way, it all entails trauma and violence.

I’m mostly doing trauma work in all contexts. The two or three weeks leading up to Labor Day weekend were tough. I was so emotionally drained and fed up with everyone. My nerves were plucked, and my tolerance for people was very low. That’s sad to say because I am a social worker, and we are suspected to be so compassionate and understanding. I’m still compassionate and understanding, but I have my limits. I am human like everyone else. Once everything started to settle down, and I began setting my boundaries with certain clients, I could breathe again. I don’t have to allow my life to become messy because clients’ lives are getting messy and complicated.

My job is challenging, but also rewarding. You don’t know how the simple gestures of life can make a difference in someone else’s life. Bringing a patient a cup of ice, praying with him/her, or a simple hug can change the outlook on someone’s day. Even if it’s for a small moment. Most of my frustrations comes from the shitty systems we, as helping professionals, have to deal with (collaborate with) in order to help the underserved. Sometimes these systems seem to do more harm than good. It all goes back to power, politics, money, and I dare say RACISM. It hurts my heart because most of my clients are low-income and identify with the BIPOC population. And being a young Black woman in a WHITE world, I feel and see the mistreatment on a daily basis because of my own experience and working with my clients. Being educated isn’t a guaranteed protection from the world of isms that exist in the United States.

Since the summer I went from a caseload of five to eight which will continue to grow. I am expected to balance caseload of eleven or twelve clients. When my supervisor told me this, I was thinking to myself that those numbers seem to be high for one individual especially outside the clinical context. Unlike my clinical cohorts from Boston College, I am not strictly providing my clients with therapy. My job responsibilities changes depending on the client. I’m really doing a combination of informal therapy and on-going case management on-top of being On-call for CVPR (being the main point of contact for onsite CVPR services on Fridays). 32 hours for Adelante. 8 hours for CVPR. At least I get to work from home once a week which is a nice change of pace from my typical work day. Honestly, I try to do less on my off-site days. I use those days to try to catch up on client notes and studying. FYI, I’ve been studying for my Master’s ASWB exam. The ASWB is the licensure exam I need to pass to become a licensed clinical/certified social worker. Right now, I am waiting for the state board of Massachusetts to approve my application so I can register for the exam.

Realistically, Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays are Adelante days. Fridays are CVPR days. Wednesdays are meant for whatever I need to get done (i.e. emails, case notes, follow-up calls, studying, team meetings, a nap [lol], etc.). On Wednesday, I was presented with an opportunity to co-facilitate a group provided by CVPR. I’m going take a risk and go for it. Since my time with Amirah, I have been interested in doing some type of group work. But this group will be about providing psychoeducation and support to other social work or related professionals who deal with trauma associated with their job/career. This would be an eight-week workshop. Again, I said that I wanted to work within the community, and I would be doing that because my team will be hosting these workshops with other agencies and organizations. Again, I did write down in a notebook that one of the roles I wanted to do was International social work, and I am doing that too because most of my Adelante clients are foreign-born citizens.

It may seem like I have everything together. Yet, I’m still discovering my style, my approach of being a social worker. Not only a social worker, but a dedicated advocate. 

#social work life #professional #finding purpose

[stevenbasic]

”So, tell me how it went..!” Melissa asked, tucking her fit, bare legs underneath herself on the white leather couch in her new office, attentively turning to me as she sat up. She’d summoned me to her office to have our Friday coffee, and had made us each a cup. Dressed especially informal for our “casual Fridays” in a v-neck green tee and girlish black short-shorts, her figure was on particularly luscious display today and I’d already caught myself staring...twice. “I want to hear everything!”

She was, of course, talking about my long-overdue meeting with her friend Abby, a sales rep from Evolution, a local pharmaceutical company intent on getting my practice involved in a clinical trial of their new product. Melissa, since her start as our new Office Manager, had been unusually invested in setting up a meeting between the two of us; they’d been friends for years, I gathered, and this was a favor to Abby. Little did I know that this favor would quickly spiral into a whirlpool that would threaten to drag me under and drown not only me but...well, read on. 

I took a look into my “World’s Best Boss” mug - a gift from her. Far too much milk, I saw...but I think I was starting to like it that way. “Okay, uh,” I began, taking my first sip, “yesterday afternoon…”

...

…I had just escorted Mr. Kowalczyk to the desk, pushing him along in his wheelchair, helping him start to check out, when Aubrey had given me the message. 

“There’s a sales rep waiting for you in your office,” she told me, eyes sparkling. Aubrey - a slim, elegant brunette - had looked especially pretty yesterday, maybe done her hair differently. We were trying her out at her new position as front desk supervisor, and she already seemed to be taking to the job well. 

“The one from...uh...Melissa’s friend?” I asked, a bit confused, “Abby?” Mr Kowalczyk, hearing the name, asked about Melissa - as he had three times earlier. “She’s off today, she’s not here,” I reminded him, now for the fourth time today, as his wife appeared alongside us. Melissa had this Thursday off, apparently for some doctors’ appointments of her own. 

“Yes, Abby,” Aubrey answered, turning her attention, for the moment, to our patient’s wife, “Co-pay is ten dollars, Mrs Kawalski...”

“That’s Kowal-check,” the elderly woman corrected, narrowing her eyes and apparently none-too-pleased. 

“That wasn’t supposed to be until tomorrow,” I commented, immediately annoyed but feeling my pulse start to quicken, “I was going to sit down with her on Friday…”. I signed Mr. Kowalczyk’s prescription. 

“It got moved up,” Aubrey told me, taking a credit card from my patient’s wife, “she’s here now…”

Why was I so nervous?

“Thank you, Mrs. Kawasaki…”

...

“...yes, sorry, I should have told you myself,” Melissa apologized, biting her lower lip, after a sip of coffee, “but it was a last minute thing. And I was still at my appointment when I heard…”

“Well, yeah, it’s okay…” I replied, eyes dropping to her still-tan thighs as she brushed at them with well-manicured fingers, tips painted a mint green to match her top, “it was just a surprise, is al-“”

“Isn’t she so pretty..??” Melissa asked, and urged me to continue my story…

...

“Thank you sooooo much for meeting with me,” Abby had greeted, immediately standing up from the chair in front of my desk as I entered the room. She stepped to shake my hand, “I’m Abby, from Evolution Pharmaceuticals.”

“Sure, sure, no problem,” I replied, noticing the confidence in her grip and the dimples in her smile. I recognized her right away from a picture Melissa had sent, early on. Maybe in her early thirties, Abby was an attractive person; lots of sales reps are. My guard was up, as it always was in these sort of sales meetings, but something in the sparkle of her eyes struck me...and her figure was nothing to sneeze at, either. I found my attitude softening already. “Melissa’s friend, right?” She had medium-length, medium-brown hair, and a nice tan complexion. Nice hips.

I guess I could give her a few minutes.

“Yes!” she answered, as we both moved to take our seats. Abby was dressed smartly, in a grey pencil skirt and sharp white blouse. “She and I met at Evolution, at our clinic, earlier this year. She’s great, so fun...”

Wait what?

“I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep you,” Abby continued, tucking her skirt beneath herself as she sat, pulling some slick promotional material from the fashionable leather bag beside her, “but I just want to introduce our product, go over some of the opportunities with you…”

What followed was both the typical sales presentation I’d seen a hundred times from different reps and at the same time one of the weirdest things I’d ever heard. From the emails and propaganda with which the company had flooded me over the past weeks, I’d read - or at least skimmed through - lots of it before. They claimed to have developed a novel general-health supplement for women; the science was still sort of hush-hush and what they could reveal was frankly a bit baffling. Normally I wouldn’t touch this sort of crap with a ten-foot pole, it all sounded so fishy at first. They were touting ambiguous improvements in mentation, endurance, strength, a whole host of other things. But I didn’t want to disappoint Melissa and, well, while I knew that the “Lean In” grants we were scheduled to receive - and frankly were going to be dependent on - were tied to us supporting female-led businesses, it soon became clear to me in talking with Abby that, um...we almost didn’t have a choice. I was starting to get the feeling that if we didn’t start working with Evolution, there’d be no money from Lean In. And so, becoming nervous, I was slowly forced to pay a bit more attention as we sat across my desk from one another, ten minutes or so into it. I was beginning to realize...we actually needed them.

But I still definitely had my doubts, my reservations, a whole load of concerns. How safe was this going to be?  “And these patients,” I asked, “for the trial...the subjects. They would come from…?” It was a reasonable question. My practice was geriatric, and this was a product for younger women.

“We’d take care of that, we’d bring them in, we have a whole list of gir-...of women ready,” Abby assured me, her disarming smile doing its job, “We wouldn’t need to involve your current patients at all.” She watched me nodding, knowing she had made more than a bit of an inroad with me. “In fact, you wouldn’t even have to do much,” she continued, proceeding confidently, “we’d supply you with the new staff you’d need, we’d bring in all the supplies and equipment. We’d hook you up with our trial coordinator from corporate, she’ll organize everything. You’d just end up doing some video chats with her once in awhile.” At that Abby smiled strangely.  “Her name's Brenda, you’ll like her.”

“It all sounds, uh, umm…”

Sitting there, at my desk, part of me couldn’t believe I was even considering this, still even talking to this woman. That part of me, though, wasn’t seeing what another small part of me was seeing - that the power dynamic in this conversation, between Abby and I, had gradually shifted. It was her, now, who held the upper hand. She represented the money, she was the big player. I was really the small fish here.  The only thing that kept me from feeling like a nobody was knowing that my practice was somehow important to them, that they wanted me for some reason.

Why exactly was that?

“We’re a small company, but it’s not just money from Lean In that we come to the table with,” Abby continued, eyes sparkling, “we’d been bought a few years ago by a big, international group, so now we’re just ripe with resources. We can help you through tough times like you’ve been having, business down, income fading-.”

“Well, now,” I interjected, my pride rankled, “I wouldn’t say that…” I mean, I wouldn’t say it, but it was totally true. But how did she know all this?? Had she and Melissa been talking abou-

“Oh, shh, you don’t need to be embarrassed, it’s okay,” she said, “It’s nothing to be ashamed about, we understand. We know your practice is shrinking, but your needs are growing. And that’s why we’re growing too, so we can help nurture you, provide for you.”

This was humiliating as fuck but...why was I getting hard? Yes, Abby was attractive, blouse just a little too tight, chest just a little bigger than necessary. She was pretty, yes. No, actually...now with all the power in the room centered on her, with the strength she represented, she was downright hot. And the scenario she was laying out for me, this relationship I’d have with her big, female corporation? It felt positively...maternal. And, it was beginning to feel like a foregone conclusion, that I would be taken under their skirts. But again - why was I getting hard?

“Evolution will take good care of you,” Abby assured me, her voice growing subtly more tender, as if reading my thoughts, “and as we get bigger, and grow, we’ll carry you along with us. We can tuck you in to our...corporate structure. You’ll be safe, there, close to us.”

If I hadn’t noticed the outline of her bra beneath her blouse before, I was noticing it now. 

“Would you like that?” she asked, probingly. 

“Uhh…”

“We’d make sure you don’t get left behind, as the world changes,” she continued, “because the world is changing, Dr. J, and we think our product is going to help women succeed in it. Don’t you want to be there with us?”

“Uhhhh…”

Seeing my anxiety starting to get the better of me, Abby smiled disarmingly. “You probably need to talk to Melissa about it, before deciding on the trial,” she began again, “right?”

Oh my god I couldn’t believe it, how demeaning that was, but I knew it was my out - for now. ”yeah I guess I probably should…” I said, weakly…

“Of course you do…” Abby smiled. 

…

“So…<nnngh>...” Melissa all but groaned, inching closer to me on the couch, “you wanted my approval, first?” 

As I had recounted my story, described the meeting to her, Melissa had slowly, gradually, become visibly more excited, completely engaged. She’d asked me to repeat details, recount conversation, all the while gazing intently into my face and moving intimately closer to me on the soft leather couch in her office. Her curves, her larger body had me slowly retreating, backing up as best I could. An arm rested on the back of the couch behind me.

“w-well I, uh…” I stammered, eyes dropping again for a furtive glance at her thighs, hips, her tiny waist. I was, at this point, already overtaken by the scent of her perfume. “it’s uh-“ 

“It’s like you’re recognizing you need my help, isn’t it?” she asked, a strange huskiness in her voice, “Isn’t it?? That you have an easier time when I make the decisions for you??”

I couldn’t say anything, looking at her. I was tongue-tied realizing, in that moment, how assertive women now framed the borders of my life, affected my daily choices. And they were, if anything, all pushing me into the clutches of other powerful women. If I took this money, allowed this clinical trial to set root in my office, it would mean becoming dependent on both Evolution and Lean In. Lean In, I was learning, was a well-connected, obviously well-funded female empowerment organization, one that seemed determined to get women into places of influence and strengthen them while they’re there. And Evolution Pharmaceuticals was not just the rinky-dink pill pop-up that I’d assumed it was, but rather a small piece of some larger player...and maybe I’m just being paranoid, but probably also controlled by women. If I took this money, I felt like it would be sucking from the big collective teat of the country’s - and perhaps the world’s - most powerful alpha females.

“I, uh…” I began, forgetting where I was, “yeah…”

“Omigod I am SO happy with you right now..!!” she suddenly, finally gushed, sitting up taller, jumping towards me and abruptly throwing her arms around me. Strong hands behind my head now pulled my face to her chest. “You are such a good boss!”

“mmmrf!”

Embracing me to her bosom, she squealed, and hugged me tighter. Soft breast squashed into my face, my head plastered to Melissa's big left boob. 

Oh my god what is she doing?!? I panicked, arms flailing helplessly as I heard her start to laugh. Despite my struggles, she held me firm - if anything, holding me even tighter still. 

“M-m-m-Mulithhah!” I tried, voice muffled by the mushy mass mashed into my mouth. 

“Shhhhh…!” she giggled, “I can’t help myself, I need to hug you!” Pressing herself into me, she moaned in delight. “Hug hug hug! I need to show you what a good boy you are!!”

The warmth, the softness of her breast was overwhelming, and as she held me firm I - despite myself - started to calm, give myself up to her massive tit. “mmmmf…” I tried again, this time my complaint sounding more like a little sigh. 

She looked down at me, quietening down herself. When she spoke again, her voice had softened. 

“That okay, sweetie?” she purred, cupping my head from behind with one palm as the other moved into my hair, “Can you breathe down there?”

I groaned something, something in assent and - god help me - rubbed my nose into her.

She giggled.

“There you go…” she cooed,  now petting my head, “all good now, all good. Just breathe...” 

I sighed again, every breath I took full of her perfume, the scent of her skin. I heard, through her chest, her cooing little praises.

“Good boy...good boy…” she lauded, enveloping me with affection. She was peering down at me, I knew, though my eyes had closed already. I felt her ready herself, and winced in shame even before she asked me the question that I knew was coming:

”So, with the trial…” she asked, “what have we decided?”

=================================================

Thanks so much to the incomparably amazing Dani Doreen for the image. We're so proud to have her onboard as our resident "from the neck down" Melissa and can't wait to work with her some more. She's so awesome and I'd recommend everyone check out her GTS/SM content:

Dani Doreen’s OnlyFans

https://onlyfans.com/danidoreen

#Growing Into the Job

[cordria]

Doctor

She walked down the hallway of the clinic, hearing her heels click-click on the tile floor. Heels were not horribly appropriate for her job - she was on her feet all day - but oh how she loved the way they sounded. Click-click-click, so professional. It made her stand up straighter, sound more authoritative, and she didn’t feel quite so short. More than worth the pain in her feet.

Her white coat fluttered behind her, like she was walking in the wind. Her chin-length hair brushed her cheeks. The clipboard was held close to her chest, and her ID tag clinked against it with each step. 

“Hello,” someone said, falling into step next to her. “Are you new?”

She smiled - she loved how her smile showed every sparkling tooth in her mouth - and turned to the speaker. An older male, dressed in scrubs, with a pleasant-looking face. “Yes! Kelly Levi.” She stopped long enough to hold out a hand for a shake.

“Peter Barrish,” he replied. “I didn’t know they were hiring.”

“Oh, I’m so excited,” Kelly said. “This is my first job. My first patient.” Her voice fell almost to a whisper as she brushed her fingers on the folder clipped to the board.

“That sounds exciting,” the nurse said with a kind smile. “Need anything?”

She shook her head, feeling her dangling earrings bounce. “Thank you so much, though.”

“Welcome to Amity Park Urgent Care. Hope to see you around later.” 

“You will,” she said. “I’ll definitely be around.” With one last smile, she headed down the hallway to room four, her heels click-clicking with each step. 

She paused outside the door and glanced down at the clipboard. Teenage male with a broken arm and a variety of other small injuries associated with falling from a second floor window. Failed a preliminary concussion test. A noted fear of doctors. She took a deep breath, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and stepped through the door.

An African American woman sat in a chair near the computer, chatting with the young man that was sitting on the bed. She glanced over at the sound of the door opening. “Hello, doctor,” the woman greeted.

“Hello,” the boy parroted, only with a quieter, somewhat terrified timbre to his voice.

“Good morning.” Kelly shut the door behind her and took a bit of sanitizer, spreading it around her hands as she surveyed the room. She caught her reflection in a small mirror above a sink, grinning at the doctor that smiled back at her. Her smile faded a bit in confusion - her eyes were a brilliant green instead of their normal brown. That was odd.

“It’s just a broken arm,” the young man said, breaking her out of her reverie. “I don’t really need to be here.”

“And a concussion, and a variety of other injuries,” Kelly said, turning to her patient. “You fell out a window?”

He scowled. “Fell is a strong word.”

She arched an eyebrow, not quite sure what that meant, and sat down in the doctor’s chair. Her heart felt like it was fluttering up in her throat with excitement. “My name is Dr Levi.” She shook the mother’s hand.

“Angela Foley,” the woman said. “And my son, Tucker.”

“Nice to meet you.” Kelly glanced at the computer sitting on the desk, realizing she didn’t remember her password. She’d have to ask, and write it down this time. Too many new things to remember. She batted the thought away, opening up the folder on her lap. She didn’t need a computer. “Well, it’s pretty straightforward. We’ll get you down for x-rays and get that arm set and in a cast. It’ll be a bit before we can do the follow-up on the concussion, so you’ll probably be in a cast before that happens. And the nurse noted that a few of your cuts might need a stitch or two.” 

Closing the folder, she looked up at the young man. His arm was resting in a home-made sling, bandages were here and there on his other arm and face. A thick pair of glasses, that looked to be hastily fixed with duct tape, rested on his nose. 

He was scowling down at his lap, but glanced up at her. Then did a double-take, opening staring at her.

“How’s your pain level?” She reached into the file organizer on the desk and pulled out a laminated paper with numbers on it. She held it out so the boy could see. “Scale of 0 to 10.”

“Uh…” he tore his eyes off her, looking down, reading the paper. “Six?”

She hummed and nodded. “I’ll get you something to take the edge off that, get in some orders for the x-ray. Which of the cuts were you worried about?” She set down the folder and walked over to the bed.

The young man leaned away from her, eyeing her out of the corner of his eyes. She felt a spike of annoyance, but brushed it away. The file had noted that the boy was terrified of doctors. At least he wasn’t screaming and running away.

“Tucker,” his mother chidded. The woman got up and came over, pointing to one on his cheek and one on his arm. “These, in particular, seemed deep.”

Kelly nodded. “Let me take a peek at those quick.” She pulled on a pair of gloves and eased the bandage away from the boy’s cheek. He shivered at her touch. “I know, cold hands,” she said gently, “sorry.” The cut on the cheek didn’t look too bad. The one on his arm was a nice gash. “The one on your arm definitely deserves a few stitches. I think we’ll just put a bit of glue on the cheek, help keep the scarring down. It doesn’t look too deep.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Angela said, smiling and sitting back down. 

“I’ll get those orders in for the x-ray and send a nurse in to escort you down.” Kelly stood up. “And I’ll send in something for the pain. Any questions?”

Tucker was still staring at her like she’d grown a second head. Kelly pushed the thought out of her mind. Perhaps this was how his phobia presented. 

“I have a question,” the boy asked. “Are you new here?”

Kelly blinked. “I meant questions about what’s going to happen to you. Your visit here.” She hesitated a moment. “But yes. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “Just… wondering.”

“Tucker,” his mother said. “Let the nice doctor get to work.”

Kelly smiled. “Oh, it’s no problem. You hang tight a few minutes. I’ll get this order in.” 

As she stepped out the door and closed it behind her, trying to remember what her supervisor had said about how to put in an order for an x-ray - her silly brain was having trouble today, she just couldn’t remember - she heard the young man ask for his phone.

“It’ll just be a minute, you don’t need a game to entertain yourself for that long,” the mother responded.

“I want to call Danny,” Tucker said. “He… fell too. DIdn’t get as hurt, though. Lucky. I want to see how he’s doing.”

Kelly shook her head and walked over towards the nurse’s station. She would have to ask about the orders. Hopefully she wouldn’t seem too absent-minded. She walked a bit harder on the tile floors, making her heels click louder. Click-click-click. Maybe the professional sound would make up for the silly question. Overall, she thought her first patient had gone rather well so far.

“Oh yes. I’m going to be around here for a long time. I love this place,” she said. She felt a happy fluttering in her chest, and just for a moment the clinic around her seemed to glow a brilliant green. “My hospital,” she whispered. “Mine.”

#dannymay2020 #quick writing #having a good day today! #yay for good mental health days #:)

[blindedbythedarkness]

Josh,

Sometimes it's really fucking difficult to not believe that the universe is personally biased against me. And I know that's kind of rich coming from the one of us that didn't get driven to suicide. But I just, I know you of all people would understand. I wish I had you to really talk to right now.

I'm gonna ramble because I just need someone to listen. But where to fucking start? Life right now is just spinning plates. On one day this week I found out a critical hospital referral I was relying on had never been made; I was rejected by yet another landlord for a house next year that I'd really been betting on; my supervisor met with and bullied me for a solid two hours and my one social event of the week got cancelled. So, that's about when it all started to get too much.

The doctor I've been seeing has been incompetent from the start and made so much work for me in the 6 months I've been in her care. Despite diagnosing my Potentially Life Threatening connective tissue disease, she never even named it in our appointments, leaving me to discover the true horrors of my body through playing detective with my blood results. Long story short, to be confident that I can go on a treatment for it without bleeding out, I need to see a geneticist. But despite agreeing that I should see one, she's refusing to refer me to one directly. Instead, she's referring me to a pain rehab clinic at a separate hospital and saying they can internally refer me to genetics. The wait on the pain rehab clinic? At least two years. Plus, of course none of this information was forthcoming and required weeks of emailing back and forth. So now I'm angry, anxious and stressed about my health. I want to make a formal complaint but I don't know when I'll find the time.

That wasn't even the worst thing, though. The worst thing was uni reminding me just one last time that it truly doesn't give a shit about its students and why I hate it to its very core. The final piece of work I have left to hand in is a research project that I've been working on all year. However, my supervisor is an utter cunt, and I don't say that lightly. He's incredibly narcissistic and rude for a start. For a presentation I had to do, he forced me to use his own slides without ever looking at mine. He once ended an online meeting because I misspoke when explaining a figure, telling me to call him back when I knew what I was on about because he "never forgets what he sees and doesn't want his brain soiled with incorrect information." Given he never remembers what we've spoken about from one meeting to the next, I call bullshit. Oh and this week? He asked me to explain a figure to him and when he said he didn't understand I asked him if he was looking at my screen share. He said no. I just despair!

To make matters worse, he's never fucking happy with me. He's made me start my work from scratch 3 times now and had a different problem each time. We're rapidly approaching the deadline now, so to get all the work done for the 3rd time I've been working 9am-5pm 6 days a week. Not that he cares. The results don't fit his hypothesis, so I must simply be incompetent. He even once had the audacity to suggest that I "didn't want to do the work" while looking through a 70 page document of my results, because I couldn't explain the findings of a figure I'd made a month ago off the top of my head.

In this weeks meeting, he again gave me an extortionate list of new tasks to do, while berating me at every turn. With a month left submit my thesis and my write up not started, I tried to explain to him that I wouldn't have time to complete the list. He just shrugged and said, "Well I think you should do it." And yes, this man is aware that I have been struggling physically and mentally recently.

I didn't know what else to do to make him listen, so I contacted the course supervisor (who I'd already briefly made aware of my issues with him). She told me to "quit" and "just get on with writing my thesis"... until four hours later after she had spoken to my supervisor and completely changed her mind. She video called me to tell me to do the work and I just broke down. I don't make a habit of ugly sobbing in front of people I've only ever met twice over Microsoft Teams, but this was a particularly bad day.

"Trying to do this work is going to destroy my physical and mental health."

"I can't do this anymore."

"He never listens to me."

"I've been working 6 days a week and it's killing me."

She didn't care. She told me that since my supervisor is an experienced professional, he must know how much he's asking of me and since he insists it's quick and easy stuff, it must be. This man has never done this analysis himself. He doesn't even know how; half the stuff one of his lab workers taught me and the rest I taught myself.

"Chill out" and "calm down" she told me, "do the work and if you have any problems ask John (the lab worker)"

By the time I pressed the leave button, I could barely breathe, let alone talk. I was just choking and sobbing and had snot pouring down my face. I was just so tired. So stressed. So... ignored. I didn't know where I would find the hours in the day, but I started by cancelling the trip to see my parents this weekend. To them I am not a student, and a student with health problems at that. I am simply a machine to use for free research.

I just wanted the stress to give me a break. I just wanted a break. I was genuinely afraid that my heart was going to stop from the stress alone. I didn't know where else to turn. The counseling service put me on a waiting list. My tutor told me to "just keep trying my best". My mentor told me to talk to my course supervisor. My course supervisor told me to work. A was busy revising for an exam the next day and I didn't want to bother him. So, I turned to my unhealthy coping mechanisms instead.

I didn't mean to do it as badly as I did. I just wanted to scratch my skin enough to feel it burn and give me something else to feel instead of the huge mass in my chest. But the scissors were sharper than I thought and when I looked down there were four long cuts that had gone through the skin and fat. I knew immediately I'd fucked up. There was no way those edges were coming together on their own. Honestly, I was just mad I'd given myself something else to do. So, I covered them with gauze and tape and kept on working. Because I needed to work. I needed to get it done. I would deal with going to the hospital later but I couldn't lose these working hours.

Once the blood was dripping from the gauze I finally, begrudgingly, went to the hospital. Honestly? They were surprisingly nice. They were understanding and they listened. I was so worried that they'd think I was some cringy emo kid looking for attention. I honestly felt like a total knob going there, but I didn't have a choice. I never felt judged or like they thought I was wasting their time or that it was all my fault. Of course, I know that it was my fault and I felt like a fool. But I also don't blame myself for becoming so desperate. At one point a doctor came in with a medical student who was visibly shy and embarrassed when examining me. I told her I had a place at medical school, so not to worry as I'd be in her place soon. And again, I was shocked because they didn't once tell me not to go. I thought they were going to say "if you can't cope right now, starting medical school isn't for you!" But they never said anything like that. Instead they were shocked I'd gotten in to such a good uni and seemed incredibly genuine when they wished me well.

Oh, and the wounds? Thankfully I didn't need stitches so I got them pulled together again with steri-strips. And in case you didn't believe me that I didn't intend them to be so bad, I nearly passed out three times after looking at them. So, I truly am a fucking idiot, Josh. Lesson learnt, I suppose. Though I'm still afraid what will happen next time I run out of options.

It's finally the end of the week now, but the universe still hasn't given me a break. My mum called earlier and told me my rabbit will be crossing the rainbow bridge tomorrow as he seems to have had a stroke. I mean, it's a small mercy that he's an old bunny and he's been unwell for a long time, so it's not a shock. But it's still so sad and I'll miss him so much. What really tops it all off is that I was going to see him this weekend until I had to cancel my trip home due to the workload.

Man, I just. Why does shit stuff seem to come so easily to me? It's difficult not to feel personally victimized when shit news after shit news lines up so well. I wish good things came as thick and fast. I hope to fuck my luck changes soon because honestly I'm terrified that it's taking years off my life.

Thanks for listening, Josh,

C

#bad day #bad week #bad luck #c rambles #c talks #depressed #depression #depressing thoughts #mental health #mental illness #mental health awareness #suicide #suicide awareness #suicide prevention #suicidal thoughts #self harm #bereaved #bereavement #stress #break down #overwhelmed #grief #grieving #mourning #loss #pain #heart broken #university

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Fifty-Four: Advanced ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Suigin Ryū ] [ SasuHina, blood ] [ Verse: Oil and Blood ] [ AO3 Link ]

She still can’t believe she’s doing this. One minute, Hyūga Hinata is taking what she had hoped would be a quick walk to clear her mind so she can get some sleep. The next, she’s stumbling across a man in an alleyway, beaten and robbed of his mods. And now, she’s hauling him a few blocks from where she found him in an effort to get him to a medical clinic: one for both biological, and technological aspects of humanity.

So much for getting to work on time in the morning…

But then again, work is the only reason she knows where to go. Given her position in claims for mods insurance, Hinata has grown...acquainted with this particular place for those she can’t help professionally. This place works...under the radar. Under the table. Not entirely legal once you look a bit under the surface.

Which is exactly why Hinata is dragging an Uchiha through alleyways to the building she has in mind. It’s probably his only chance. His family are almost all notorious yakuza. If she took him to a typical hospital, he’d just get thrown in a cell and probably left there.

Laws are a bit...finicky when it comes to people like him.

So, instead, she’s ignoring every instinct screaming at her to leave him and go home, pretend this never happened.

As if the gods are laughing at her (if there are even any gods left, given how far man has strayed from nature now), it even starts to rain.

Wonderful.

Thankfully, they’re only a block down when it starts pouring, Hinata struggling to keep the man upright while sparing a hand to knock at the rear door.

The door for...less than legal help.

“H...hello?” she calls, trying not to be too obvious. “Is a-anyone here?”

Silence reigns for about a minute, Hinata starting to feel the effect of this guy’s weight on her. His head is hanging, no longer having the energy to keep himself upright. Not that she blames him...looks like he was put through the wringer pretty well.

As she studies him, she can hear a series of locks releasing, looking back at the door just in time to see it swing open. Beyond is the typical doctor she communicates with for the clients she can’t help herself. “S...sorry. I, uh...have a bit of an emergency?”

Eyes widening, the practitioner wastes no time. “Here, let me help you - poor thing, caught out in the rain of all times -” Taking his other side, the woman helps heft him past the door, which swings shut of its own accord...and locks without prompting.

Here, in the rear end of the building, are the spaces reserved for those a bit beneath the law. Illegal mods are a booming business, after all...and someone has to take care of them. One man is asleep on a cot, curtain pulled closed by the doctor before she helps lay the Uchiha atop another.

“Goodness...quite the specimen you’ve found yourself, Hyūga-san,” she murmurs, gesturing for Hinata to sit as she starts examining the patient. As if knowing it would be there, she checks his collarbone for the tomoe crest Hinata already spotted. “An Uchiha...of course. I swear I’ve had half your lot through my door at one point or another,” she mutters. Practiced hands make quick work of his shirt, Hinata squeaking shyly and turning aside as she gets into the nitty gritty.

“Let’s see...bruising over the abdomen, might have some bruising on the ribs, but nothing seems broken.” With a mod of her own, the physician hovers a hand over his chest. As a light shines from her palm, a holographic rendering comes up from a screen along the top, displaying a real-time image of the bones. “...no...no cracks or breaks. Lucky,” she chides. Looking over the rest of him, she finds no skeletal damage. “You’re going to be sore, and purple as eggplant in a few places, but you’re not about to die.”

“His mods, are they…?”

Gently lifting the remaining stump of his left arm, she scans it with practiced, biological eyes. “Let’s see...fitting is a model seventy-four G. Fairly new, about six months out of date. Newest models are already into the seventy-sevens. Which means he’ll need an arm no older than a seventy-three J...I’ll have to check my inventory. Now...the more pressing matter is his eye.”

As she goes to turn his head, the man bats her hand aside, teeth gritting. “Don’t touch me…”

“Uchiha-san, you’re in good hands. Your fitting looks damaged. I need to see if I can repair it. If it needs replacing, I’ll -”

“Just...give me a minute to rest. I’ll be fine.”

“B-but…” Hinata murmurs, brows wilted in worry. “You’re in...very poor shape, Uchiha-san…”

“I’ve had worse. I don’t need you both fawning over me…” His words curl up with a grunt, muscles tensing against a wave of pain.

The doctor’s nostrils flare, expression set. “You have a damaged eye fitting. It’s bleeding. Infections in that area are unacceptable. Now, you can lie here and be patient...or I can knock you out and work in peace while you sleep. Up to you.”

For a long moment, he eyes her warily, seeming to weigh his odds. But when she makes a display of electricity between her fingers, he sighs and relents, going slack against the cot. “...just be quick.”

“I’ll work as fast as you’ll let me,” is her retort, moving to examine his eye socket.

“Um...do you want me to stay, or…?” Hinata fidgets. She really should get home and try to sleep...she has work first thing, and her supervisor isn’t very allowing…

“You can go, Hyūga-san,” the doctor replies, giving her a glance with a tired smile. “I’ll contact you in the morning. Odds are, he isn’t going anywhere for a few days.”

“You can’t -!”

“Hush,” she retorts, giving him a look as he struggles. “I told you, I’ve worked on your lot before. I can contact someone and let them know where you are. Until you’re stable, you need to stay here, rest, and let me get you back into working order. Now, what model was your eye?”

“...Rinnegan.”

That makes her own widen. “...you lot sure like your advanced tech - no wonder someone stole it,” is all she comments still working. Glancing back to Hinata, she nods. “You can head out the back door. I’ll call you in the morning. If he’s still here, you can check on him after work. I know you’ll worry, otherwise.”

Sheepish pink brightens Hinata’s cheeks. “...thank you. And...sorry for the late call…”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m up late most nights working on owed repairs for dropped off mods. Consider this a nice change of pace.”

Still unsure, Hinata nonetheless takes her leave, jogging back through the rain. Well...that was a lot more than she bargained for, but...at least he seems to be in good hands. Apparently this woman’s seen Uchiha before...Hinata shouldn’t be surprised. There are, to her knowledge, only a handful of underground mod specialists. And most pick sides when it comes to the turf wars. Apparently this one tends to side with the Uchiha.

She makes a mental note never to bring her a Senju.

Once back in her apartment, Hinata crashes face-down atop her bed with a sigh. Part of her knows she definitely won’t sleep now...not with that man to worry about. She never even asked his name...but his attitude suggests he probably wouldn’t tell her anyway…

Still, she needs to at least rest, so she crawls into bed, mind wide awake.

Work is going to suck...but that’s what coffee is for.

Come morning, she goes about her routine, feet dragging. But a quiet ring in her ear reminds her of the doc’s promise to call with an update. “H-hello?”

“Hyūga-san, it’s me. Just wanted to let you know the Uchiha’s doing fine. I need to replace his eye mod socket, but otherwise he just needs bed rest. I got ahold of his brother and assured him Sasuke’s in good hands.”

“Sasuke…?”

“His name. Or at least, what he gave me. Might be an alias, but he was a bit too groggy to think much, so I’d wager it’s the truth. Anyway, you should swing by after work if you can. I’ll be done with the surgery by then. He might still be under, but I’m sure you’ll feel better seeing him back in...well, not quite one piece, but not quite so rough.”

“I understand...and thank you again. Really, I -”

“No need for thanks. I’ll be well-compensated, believe me. I have good enough rep with the Uchiha by now, they trust my work...and make sure I’m well paid for it, and my loyalty. If anything, I should thank you for the business.”

Hinata gives a quiet scoff. “All right then. I’ll s-see you later.”

“Mhm.”

Work drags on even worse than usual. Hinata rarely has something to look forward to after, and it makes each droning call even more unbearable. But thankfully nothing is too out of the ordinary, and she’s walking briskly back just after five.

This time she enters the front door, hearing the mechanized chime. The waiting room is oddly empty, only a few patients within. Side activities aside, this one does good work, and Hinata is usually hard-pressed to get anyone in during regular business hours.

“Ah, there you are! Come on back - he’s all done,” the doctor calls, letting Hinata through the lobby door. Her hands wring, a bit nervous.

“Don’t worry, he’s still out. He might rouse a bit, but he’ll be rather delirious for another thirty minutes or so. I plan to keep him overnight and release him back to his brother tomorrow when he gets here.”

“So soon?”

“Yeah...the worst of it’s about over - mostly I’m just waiting for a contact to get here with replacement parts. His arm is pretty simple, but getting my hands on another Rinnegan eye model won’t be easy. Other than that, he just needs to rest. And he can do that at home rather than take up one of my cots.”

Hinata nods. That makes sense...besides, he’ll likely be more comfortable at home. “I feel like I owe you, I -”

“No, none of that. The Uchiha will more than repay me. You did your part by bringing him here. If anything I owe you,” the physician teases with a small smile. “Now, go say hi - I’ve still got a few more patients to see before six.”

“Okay.” Left in the back room, Hinata notices that the occupied cot from the night before is now empty. Feeling a bit intrusive, she steps up beside Sasuke’s bed.

True to her companion’s word, he’s still asleep, and he looks so...different. Not nearly as exhausted, but still rough...yet far less grumpy. He’s been all cleaned up of blood, and changed into proper hospital attire. His eye socket is still empty, as well as his arm, but both are in good shape. New, shining metal glints in his face where the mod implant sits.

Done nosily observing, Hinata sits beside him...only to jump as he shifts.

“...back again?” he rumbles, tone dragging with exhaustion.

“I...w-wanted to be sure you were all right, Uchiha-san.”

“Told you, m’fine,” he retorts again, but there’s not nearly the bite to his tone this time. He just sounds a bit...exasperated. “Bunch of fuss over a bit of a bruising…”

“But...Suigin-san said you needed a new eye fitting…?”

“Tch...it was just a little bent...coulda salvaged it. She just wants more money…”

“I doubt that. M-most of her profits go right back into funding the people who can’t afford their care. She even lives in this building to cut costs.”

That earns a glance. “...you friends?”

“...sort of, I...I guess.”

“She called you...Hyūga?”

“Mhm.”

She can see the recognition in his eyes, but thankfully he doesn’t press it. “...well...for what it’s worth...thanks for dragging my ass out of the gutter.”

His blunt wording makes her jump. “I...I couldn’t just leave you there!”

“You also dragged me here...didn’t have to. A bit stupid, though...I could’ve hurt you.”

“...I doubt that. You could barely stand, and your m-mods are gone.”

He snorts. “...or the bastard who beat me could’ve come back.”

“...well, you’re here now. And you’re going to be fine, so...that’s a-all that matters.”

He considers her for a time, head turned to see her with his remaining eye. “...fair enough. But I don’t like owing people, so...you’ll get compensated, either way.”

“Oh, I-I don’t -”

“No arguing. Fair’s fair, Hyūga. And no one tells me no.”

Sighing lightly, she doesn’t argue.

“...well...no offense, but...m’not exactly in a talking sort of mood, so…”

“Oh, t-that’s fine. I just...wanted to check on you. Suigin-san says you’ll get replacements by tomorrow morning, and...you can go home.”

“Mhm. Aniki’s going to chew my ass out…” Sasuke sighs. “...could be worse. Could be dead.”

“Y...yes. That’s true.”

“Eh, I’ll deal with him...later. Until later, Hyūga. You remember what I said. And next time you find some cretin in an alleyway...leave him there, all right?”

“I’m not sure I could.”

“...well, leave him if he’s a Senju.”

Sighing again, Hinata doesn’t reply, just standing with a hint of a weary smile. “...I hope you have a s-speedy recovery, Uchiha-san.”

“Hn...I’ll try. Get along home before more trouble finds you, huh?”

“...all right.” Giving a small bow, Hinata heads back out through the lobby, finding it now empty. Walking home a bit slowly, she has to wonder how an Uchiha is going to pay her back. She doesn’t exactly need anything...and what on earth could a member of the yakuza have to give her?

...he might just be the trouble he’s warning her about.

                                                           .oOo.

     (This is a direct sequel to day 250, if you'd like a little more context!)      Anywho, more cyberpunk universe! Featuring an OC of mine cuz...well, I wanted to, honestly xD This verse is...very quickly growing on me lol - it's a neat twist on typical Naruto powers and abilities! Hopefully I'll get to do some more soon if another prompt fits! Poor Hinata...something tells me this little act of charity is going to lead to even more disruptions.      Buuut on that note, it's late, I'm sleepy, and I better call it a night. Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #suigin ryū #blood // #oil and blood [ au ] #365daysofsasuhina

[writeforcarat]

Home [Part 1]

—Cat Shelter Volunteer!Wonwoo × Reader

—Fluff

A light drizzle specked the hot grey pavement before turning into a summer downpour.

It was almost noon on a Monday and you hit the brakes of your bicycle near a subway exit, where a sea of commuters had started emerging, pulling out their umbrellas, cursing at how the rain had just put a damper on their already busy day.

You, too, had a packed schedule ahead. It was your second week working as a part-time English teacher at an academy. And while tutorial classes were held in the afternoon, instructors were expected to arrive before lunchtime—an unwritten rule you had managed to comply with up until now.  

In a hurry, you slipped into a raincoat (thank goodness, you packed one), and checked the time. You had about 20 minutes to get to the school, which wasn’t that bad. If you could just speed up a bit, you’d make it on time.

You hadn’t gone that far yet when you heard it—an excruciating yowl that only got louder as you approached the end of the street. Curious and a bit alarmed, you came to a stop, got off your bike, and brought your ears closer towards a patch of bushes, where the sound seemed to be coming from.

Another cry pierced through the humid air, and you instinctively took a step back.

Taking a peek through the bushes, you found a spotted white and grey cat—drenched, soiled, and cold—your gaze meeting its feline eyes that were veiled with agony. The poor creature tried to stand up, only to fall back down on the wet ground. That was when you noticed that it had a limp and wounded leg.

You felt a pang in your heart. You had always had a soft spot for animals, especially cats, and this was a situation you couldn’t simply ignore. A cat needs help. Your help… but you were also running late. Sighing in resignation, you shrugged off the thoughts about work (maybe, they’d understand) and scooped the cat into your arms.

“You will be fine,” you whispered to it. “I’m here.”

Somewhat comforted, the cat purred in response, and you repeated reassuringly, “I’m here.”

Shifting its weight to your left arm, you tugged your bike with your free hand and walked towards the shed of a bus stop nearby. Thankfully, the sky was starting to clear up again and the rain was nothing more than a light shower. You sat down on the cold steel seat so you could let the cat rest on your lap.

Think. You said to yourself before resolving to text your supervisor to inform her about your “emergency.” You didn’t go far into detail, really. That you would explain only if worse comes to worst later. You then started searching for cat shelters nearby. Multiple results returned, with the closest one about eleven blocks away.

Chimes pleasantly rang, as you opened the door of Happy Cat Shelter and Veterinary Clinic. The cold air from the AC sent a chill that crawled on your skin, which the cat probably felt, too, since it snuggled closer to your chest.

“H-hello?” You called out, a tremble caught in your throat.

“Welcome to Happy Cat!” You heard someone respond from the inside; his voice deep yet friendly. A crashing sound reverberated through the walls of the office. “Be there in a sec!”

The shelter was not exactly big, but it wasn’t small either. From where you were standing at the receiving area, you could see cats crawling and prancing about in their playroom, and to your right, you eyed the door of the clinic with a sign that said the doctor was out, making worry flood through you. The next closest shelter with a vet was much farther away, and you couldn’t afford to take another side trip.

You glanced down at the cat. It was so exhausted; its sleepy eyes had fluttered shut.

A door swung open, and you looked up with a start. A lanky bespectacled boy clad in a black shirt came walking towards you, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologised before letting out a gasp, as you and the cat became clearer to his sight. “Oh my God.”

You realised that you were still dripping wet, a puddle surrounding your feet, locks of your wet hair matted on the sides of your face. Of course, your makeup was messed up, too. Shit. You were not a pretty sight, nor was the injured cat in your arms. You lowered your head in embarrassment.

“Please, don’t move. You might slip,” the boy said concernedly before you could even utter a word, his hand gesturing for you to stay put. “I’ll go get towels.”

Wonwoo wasn’t having an easy Monday. He wasn’t supposed to be working, but two of his co-volunteers called in sick, and the shelter’s manager, who was on vacation, begged him to cover for their shifts.

Not that he didn’t want to come in for duty, it was just that he had previously asked for a few days’ off, as he had to work on an important project before the summer break began. It didn’t help that the cats were also being extra temperamental and extra energetic, thrashing about the place with much vigour.

So when he saw you standing at the door—drenched and in distress—he knew that his day wasn’t about to get easier. Nevertheless, it had always been in him give help to anybody who needed it—be it a person or a cat. In this case, both.

The bespectacled boy returned shortly with a rag, which he dropped to the floor to absorb the small pool of water around your feet, and, as promised, soft and clean towels. He handed out one to you, and as you accepted it with a “thanks,” he carefully took the cat into his arms with another towel, whispering soothing words to it.

“I saw her on the street,” you said, wiping yourself dry with the towel. “I was actually on my way to work, but I couldn’t leave her. She’s wounded and injured.”

“I can see that,” he said, intently examining the cat in his arms. “Thank you for bringing her here,” he glanced up at you.

Now that he was standing closer, you finally had a better view of his face, and, God, he’s handsome. With his dark fringes falling just below his eyebrows, you instantly noticed his stunning eyes that showed both sincerity and softness as he looked at you.

You’d be lying if you said that the sight of him carrying the poor cat you’d just rescued didn’t make your heart melt a little.  

A bit flustered, you turned towards the direction of the clinic and said, “I’m not sure to what extent you can help, but, please, keep her safe until the vet arrives.”

“Of course,” he said almost instantly. “The vet won’t be here until after lunch, but I will give him a call, since this kitty needs to be treated.”

“Thanks,”

An awkward pause engulfed the room, and you realised that you hadn’t even introduced yourselves to each other yet.

“I’m Y/N,” you said just about the same time he told you that his name was Wonwoo. Both of you let out a sheepish laugh.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, diffusing the tension. “Let me bring her inside first. I’ll be right back,”

“Erm, I should get going,” you said matter-of-factly, motioning towards the door.

“Hang on,” Wonwoo snapped, “I know you’re in a hurry, but we have protocols here. There’s some paperwork to be dealt with before we officially take in any cat.”

“Right,” you bit your lower lip, starting to worry more about work at that point. “I understand, but I am running really late right now.”

Having thought of a quick solution, Wonwoo shifted the cat’s weight to one arm, then swiped a clipboard and a sheet of paper from the reception desk with his other hand and suggested, “Perhaps, you could, at least, give us your contact details and bring this drop-off form to fill out and submit later. We don’t usually do this, but I’ll try to explain the situation to my boss. I’ll call or text you if anything turns up. Would that be alright?”

“Yeah, sure,” you nodded, taking the clipboard and form, grateful that he was being considerate enough. You quickly wrote down your name, mobile number, and email address on the contact list on the clipboard, and handed it back to Wonwoo. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said, and reminded you to come back with the drop-off form filled out before you left.

A wave of relief washed over you, seeing how your co-workers didn’t seem to notice your absence earlier when you arrived at the academy about 30 minutes later. They said hello like they usually did, as you walked into the teachers’ office; some were even offering you lunch food. Your supervisor was also nice enough to ask if you were okay and give you a clean shirt to change into.

Your classes ran smoothly that afternoon. The gradeschoolers enjoyed the vocabulary exercises you had prepared for them. They surprisingly expressed much excitement about their pop quiz, too, when you said that top scorers will get a choco pie each.

As you were packing your things, looking forward to calling it a day, your phone buzzed, an SMS popping up on the screen. Although it came from an unknown number, you already knew who it was from. You tapped on the notification to read the entire message.

“Hi, Y/N! Kitty’s okay now. No need to worry anymore. Just don’t forget to sign the form and bring it to the shelter. You can drop by tomorrow. We’ve also got some good news.  -Wonwoo”

The message tugged the corners of your lips upwards into a smile. For some reason, receiving that text made you feel so much better after a long day.

“Hey, look at that beautiful smile,” your co-instructor quipped, as she walked by.

You looked up from your phone, still beaming. “What?”

“Did your boyfriend text you? I haven’t seen you smile like that before.”

Your eyes widened and your lips parted, as though to say something, but not a word came out. Your co-instructor chuckled at your expression. “You’re adorable. See you tomorrow!”

“See you,” you said, happily thinking about what tomorrow will actually bring. [PART 2]

Thanks for reading until here! I didn’t actually intend for this story to get this long, but I guess I got too carried away with writing it. Anyhow, if you enjoyed this scenario, hit like or reblog and please do look forward to the continuation of the story.

My Q&A is also open to requests. Don’t hesitate to drop some prompts or suggestions, and I’ll see what I can do!

#seventeen #svt #wonwoo #kpop #jeon wonwoo #seventeen fic #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen scenario #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt fic #svt au #svt imagine #svt reaction #svt reactions #svt scenario #svt scenarios #svt fluff #wonwoofic #wonwoo au #wonwoo reaction #wonwooreactions #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo scenarios

[fuck-customers]

I work at a pet hotel - mostly just with dogs, but also the occasional cat or bunny. And in general, I really do love my job! There's not a ton of customer interaction, thank god, my direct supervisor is super sweet, and when one of my favorite dogs is staying with us I literally just spend my breaks sitting in their room and petting them to de-stress. It's also in general a pretty exhausting job, because working with animals is uniquely exhausting, and occasionally we get some AWFUL dog moms, but really, I do love it.

(For context, we have a lot more tasks to do than just walking and feeding the dogs - lots and lots of cleaning cleaning, essential things to keep the hotel running, the typical booking appointment and entering charges, so much fucking paper on an outdated and needlessly complicated system that makes every task take three times as long as it should.)

My one real issue though, is that we are so understaffed right now it's not even funny. We're attached to a vet clinic, and the two doctors who own the clinic don't seem to have any real clue how many people are required to keep the hotel running. They assumed September/October would be our off season, so even though a bunch of employees quit recently, they wouldn't let my supervisor hire anyone new. They didn't consider that 1) a bunch of the employees are college students, so almost no one is available to work monday through thursday right now and 2) our clinic is in an area with a TON of retirees, who all take vacations at this time of year because the weather's nice, the prices are cheaper, and they don't have a job or kids in school to worry about. So we've been consistently busy.

But weekdays, and also sometimes on the weekend, generally only have ONE person per shift now, leading to almost all of us working overtime because we can't get everything done during our shifts, and our bosses getting mad at all the overtime hours that WOULDNT EVEN BE AN ISSUE IF THEY LET MY SUPERVISOR HIRE MORE PEOPLE. (Just at LEAST to replace the people that quit.)

My shift last night was so long and exhausting that I literally slept in past 1pm today, and normally I physically can't sleep in past 10am even if I've been up late and don't set any alarms, and my back is so sore I can hardly walk. I clocked out for my legally required lunch yesterday but then worked through it because I hadn't finished feeding the dogs, because I'd started that an hour and a half late because we had so many dogs and new check ins that it was impossible to keep up with everything, and I still ended working two and a half hours past the end of my shift.

It's not fair to the employees, but it's also not fair to the dogs. We like to take them out at least 6 times a day, for walks or playtime, or for the older dogs who don't want to have much activity, at least to pee. But with one-person shifts, it's impossible to take all the dogs out that often when we have all our other tasks to do (and when we cant leave the dogs in the yard unsupervised).

I really want to stress that I genuinely do love my job, and I don't plan to quit over this rough patch. And that I truly don't blame my supervisor for this. She's working more shifts alone than any of us, practically lives at work lately, and if she heard I'd worked through my lunch I'm certain she'd be upset because she doesn't encourage or make us break any labor laws. 

I blame the vets who own the clinic, because while I'm certain they're very good at THEIR jobs, they also seem to have very little idea of what's necessary when it comes to our jobs. They're completely out of touch with our part of the clinic.

I guess my main consolation is that they'll definitely let us hire new people before the end of November, because that's when the time they actually realize is the busy season really starts and we never have less than 3 people a shift during summer and the holidays. But really they should just let my supervisor hire more people now because the idea of training a ton of new people DURING peak season doesn't sound fun either lol.

#fuck managers #submission

[thexgrayxlady]

Hey, 12. "Don't you trust me?" from the Angst/fluff Prompt List. For Shepard and Kaidan.

Notes: Sorry thistook so long to finish. It kind of got away from me.

Scheherazade

He could still turn back.

The floor was dead. The overhead lights buzzed and hisfootsteps echoed in the too empty hall. The walls were a hospital off-beigethat if there was some signs of life, might not have been so distressinglysterile.  This part of the building wassupposedly sectioned off for apartments, but the only signs of life were theguards stationed at regular intervals down the too long and too narrow hallway.

Security was tight. Anderson had to vouch for him just to beon the list of approved visitors. Then it took days of screenings to actually geta time slot for a visit. He had to get approval to bring in coffee. Thenlayers and layers of locks, scanners, searches, and guards quarantining theapartment at the end of the hall from the rest of the building.

Kaidan didn’t know what the hell the brass thought wastingresources on this kind of security was going to do when Shepard decided she wasdone with this. He doubted any of it would even slow her down.

He could still turn back. Get back on the elevator and goback through the searches and scanners and guards. Tell his parents he couldmeet them for lunch early. She would never know. Even if she did, he doubtedshe’d care.

But he needed to do this. Shepard was willing to tradeinformation. He had to know it was good before he sent his students to act onit.

Besides, a second coffee would go cold before he could drinkit.

He showed his credentials to the guard at the door. He wasyoung, but to have this kind of post, he had to have some experience. He had notags or identifying marks of any kind. None of them did. Too dangerous to giveShepard something like that.

He asked how she was doing. The guard shrugged, said he’dnever talked to her, but she seemed friendly. Laurie really liked her. The newnightshift guy played cards with her once, said she was terrible at poker, butenjoyed playing anyway. He reminded the guard to be careful what they told herand to tell nightshift to stop playing cards with her. She was better than theythought she was.

The guard swiped his keycard and scanned his hand. The heavydoor slowly slid open. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until herealized that the only thing on the other side was a short entry hall, hastilyconverted to secondary containment.

The young guard paged the interior, told them that they hada visitor. This time, Kaidan was acutely aware of his heavy beating heart.

For all the time he spent getting preparing for this, hewasn’t ready to see her again.

The apartment was small, sparsely furnished. There was atreadmill by the window, wear already obvious on the belt. A desk covered inneatly stacked books. Her nearly trademarked color coded folders laid out forefficiency next to her favorite pens.

It reminded him of her home on Arcterus station. Ready to beshown to a prospective buyer at a moment’s notice and they would never know wholived there before.

Her guard was a heavily muscled woman with her hair drawnback in a tight regulation bun. She was amped. He couldn’t imagine they’d leaveanybody with a weapon she could use.

“Commander Alenko,” Shepard said. She cut silently aroundher guard, her lips drawn into her perfect, made for the cameras smile. Sheexuded easy confidence, it was obvious that no matter how qualified or capableher guard was, Shepard was in control. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Shepard looked much like she always did. All lean muscle andrazor sharp edges neatly wrapped up in a designer suit. He didn’t know if hewas expecting different. If destroying a solar system had changed her at all,she hid it well.

“Brought yousomething,” he said, holding the coffee cup out to her. 

“Thank you. That was very considerate,” she said. Shepardgestured to the kitchenette, then turned back from the guard. “You can leave usnow.”

“Mira.” She had the guards wrapped around her fingeralready. “You know I can’t leave you…”

“Laurie.” The guard’s eyes went wide. Shepard wasn’tsupposed to know names. “This is official business.” Shepard set her cup downon the table and rounded on the woman. Shepard was soft and polite and withoutthinking, Kaidan cut in between them. “We’ll be discussing sensitiveinformation and he has the same clearances as Hackett and Anderson.”

Behind him, Laurie stiffened and his amp port tingled, butshe slowly retreated to the door.

“What the hell was that?” he asked. She could have just putthat woman’s career in jeopardy and for what?

“Don’t worry Commander,” she said, leaning back in her chairand draping her arm over the back. “We’re on camera. There’s a series of suitswatching me from the building across the street. If this arrangement is goodenough for Anderson and Hackett, it should suit you.”

“I’m not worried about security,” he said. “How do you thinkit’s going to look for her when her supervisor finds out that she left you without…”

“She’ll be fine. I don’t get social calls,” Shepard said,pulling out a chair for herself and gesturing to the one opposite for him. “TheAlliance would prefer information be kept on a need to know basis. She doesn’tneed to know. So if you would please sit down so we can get to business.”

He took the chair across from her. She studied him with idlecuriosity, like she was supposed to be here.

“It’s so nice of you to come see me.” Something about theway she said nice made him think it was anything but. “What brings you here?”

He should have said, “Because I’m heading up operationsbased on your intel. I need to make sure I’m not sending my students into atrap.”

But that wasn’t everything. Before this, she fed theminformation on Cerberus operations. She made a deal with Hackett for immunity.She set Jack up with a job at Grissom. They even worked together on a fewoperations. He thought things were getting better between them. Then, out ofnowhere, she destroyed a relay and killed hundreds of thousands of Batariancolonists. There was no coming back from that. No matter how much he wanteddifferently. But he wanted to understand.

Instead, he sat in silence, drinking his coffee and tryingto think of what to say to a woman who he’d once loved and now, barely knew. Allthe while, Shepard watched him like a circling hawk.

She picked up her coffee, swirled it a couple times and tookan experimental sniff. Then, almost casually, she swapped their cups. Shebarely managed to conceal her disgust when she tasted the milk and sugar inhis. She said nothing, but the accusation stung.

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked. Even at her paranoid worst,she was never like this. Listening to what he thought was her death overAlchera almost destroyed him. Even with everything she’d done, he wouldn’t dothat.

“You’re an Alliance man.” Shepard shrugged and took anothersip. “Night shift leaves creamer in the mini-fridge if you want it.” As if that was his biggest problem with thissituation.

“I would neverhurt…” he started. “Do you think that I could poison you?”

“I think it would be convenient for the Alliance if I don’tmake it to trial,” she said. Like she was talking about the weather.  “Don’t act so surprised. You, of all people,should know I’m not the first monster they’ve swept under the rug.”

He feigned interest in coffee creamer. He should have expectedit. Her handlers thought it was too dangerous for her to have names. He’d toldher way more than that. He’d given her everything she needed hurt him. And hetrusted her enough to think she wouldn’t use it.

That hurt more than the jab itself. More so because shedidn’t mean it. She just knew that it would hurt.

So he fumbled with the lid. Watched hazelnut cream swirlslowly into coffee until he could look at her again. She stared back, studyinghim clinical and uncaring, and he still couldn’t quite make eye contact.

“You’ve been giving Hackett information,” he said, slowly takingback his position across from her.

“Alliance isn’t giving out luxury house arrest suites forfree,” she said. Had she always sounded so condescending? “You think I’mholding back the good stuff for a better view?”

“We both know you can leave whenever you want.”

“I could, couldn’t I?” She smiled and he half expected tosee a second row of teeth behind it. Her aura of danger had been exciting once.He almost couldn’t believe he’d ever loved it. “Almost begs the question, whatdo I get for staying?”

“Room, board, and a court appointed lawyer,” he said. Shewanted him to bait him into trying to figure out why the hell she came back. Hedidn’t care enough to join her game.

“Two out of three’s not bad.” She shrugged and he glancedover at her desk. He hadn’t noticed the subject material before. She was justarrogant enough to defend herself, but she was also good enough to pull it off.Even now, he had to admire her ego.

“So, if you’re so sure I’m going to break out,” she saidwith detached interest. “Do you want to run away with me again?”

“You know what I’m going to say.” Was it his imagination ordid she look disappointed?

“Pity. You made a damn good traitor Alenko,” she said. “Whatchanged?”

“I know where my loyalties lie.” She hadn’t changed. She wasangry and frustrated at a stagnant career and she took advantage of theNormandy attack to get out. Even if she hadn’t really joined Cerberus, for twoyears, she let him think she was dead. That he abandoned her to suffocate alonein the dark.

After everything that happened to him, he knew better thanto fully trust the Alliance. He had a history, a faulty implant, and ties toShepard. If something else went wrong, he’d be an easy target. But at leastwith them, he knew what he was getting into.

“After everything I’ve done, you still don’t trust me.” Shesaid it like a fact. The sky was blue. Her drivers’ license was fake. He didn’ttrust her. And it didn’t bother her in the slightest.

“It’s exactly because of everything you’ve done,” hereplied.

“You knew who I was when you helped steal a ship andfollowed me into the Terminus. That night before Ilos, you knew what you weregetting into. You did it anyway,” she said, her eyes flashing a dangerous, coldblue. He’d seen that look before. When she went up against Saren on the Citadeland knew just what she had to say. “And from what I can see, you did nothingbut benefit. Don’t get me wrong, you deserve it. You’re a good soldier Alenko.I was too. Look how they rewarded me.” She dismissively gestured to theapartment and the heavy locks on the door.

“You destroyed a star system and killed three hundredthousand Batarian colonists,” he said.

“Did you have a pointcoming here?” she asked, her lips drawn into a thin line. “Or did you just wantto remind me exactly why I didn’t want to come back?”

“What happened in the Bahak system?” he asked.

“If you’re talking to me, then you’ve either already readthe files or you’re a fool.” She draped an arm over the back of the chair andstared out the window.  “You’re manythings, but not a fool.”

“Humor me,” he said. He still regretted that he didn’t tryto hear her out on Horizon. This time, he’d listen.

“Cerberus took control of a mining facility, just like X57. Theysent me in to finish the job.” To anybody else, she could have sold it. But heknew her too well to think she was doing anything other than reading off ascript.

“That’s what the files say.” She promised she would neverlie to him. He was never comfortable with the double standard, but he could useit now. “What really happened?”

“Kaidan, why does it matter?” She rested her forehead on herfingertips and for just a second, the illusion fell away.

Her clothes hung off of her. Her ribs rose and fell underthe fine cotton. Her hair was thinner than he remembered. She’d covered up darkcircles under her eyes as best she could with makeup, but it wasn’t perfect. Hercuticles were faintly ripped, her fingertips covered in papercuts and her palmshad small spots of ink.

For a month, all she had for company were people who weren’tallowed to talk to her, weren’t even allowed to tell her their names. Everyonewho came to see her either wanted something from her or wanted to tell her whatto do. He couldn’t blame her for resenting visitors after that.

She worked herself to the bone under good circumstances.Living like this, she wasn’t sleeping, instead spending every spare momentworking on her defense because she didn’t trust anybody else to do it. If notthat, she was running until she was almost too tired to stand out of a mix ofstress and boredom. Her world shrank down from an entire galaxy to two rooms.Not an inch of either she had to herself, even for a moment.  For all the power and control she tried toproject, she had neither.

He’d been in the middle of enough cover ups to know whenthere was something more going on.

He thought she was here only because she wanted to be. ThatShepard could leave whenever she wanted to. She still could and she knew it. Yetshe stayed. Mira was normally long gone by the time things got dangerous. Yetshe surrendered quietly. Mira Shepard never did anything if she didn’t have areason. Even more so if that thing could end in her death. There was somethingstronger than locks or walls holding her here.

But it was only for a second. She tucked away theexhaustion, loneliness, and fear. Her hand stopped shaking on the coffee cup.Her eyes stopped flicking to the door. And just like that, she was poised anddignified, like there was nowhere else in the world she’d rather be.  She had no use for those kinds of feelings, soit was better to just compartmentalize. She made it too easy to forget she was only human

There was a chance that this was what she wanted him to see,but even at her worst, she never wanted people to feel sorry for her.

He wanted to reply, “Because you still matter to me,” but hedidn’t think she’d forgive him.

“I need to know if we can trust your information,” he said. Likethere wasn’t some little part of him that desperately wanted to reach acrossthe table, take her hand, and tell her…he didn’t know what exactly. He didn’t know if there was anything he could say.

She got up and went to stand by the window. He wasn’t sureif he imagined Shepard dragging her feet through the first few steps. He followed,but stopped just too far to touch her even if he wanted to. Even if she’d allowit, there was too much between them.  

“All you need to know is that I have no regrets.” There wasearthforged steel in her spine and she spoke with nothing less than perfectconviction.  

“What’s out there Shepard?” He didn’t think she’d say itoutright, but Shepard didn’t lie to him and he still knew her well enough tounderstand.

“Three hundred thousand dead Batarians and a broken relay,”she said, folding her hands behind her back. She picked her words carefully,unable to tell him the truth outright, but enough for him to see its shape inits shadow and the dark space where it should have been.

Shepard didn’t turn herself in. This was a sacrifice. Shewouldn’t come back here for the Alliance. Not even to stop a war. Her life wasworth too much for that. She wouldn’t risk execution if the alternative wasn’t extinction.

“How long until your trial?” He still knew how to talk toher. He couldn’t ask about the Reapers if there was a chance anyone would overhearit, but he could ask about this.

“Six months,” she said. Even if it was a sacrifice, she wouldn’tgo quietly to her death. She’d choke the courts with their own red tape if itmeant she’d get a few more minutes. She only had to drag it out until theinvasion.  

“You’re sure about this?” He tried to ball his hands at hisside to stop himself from reaching out to her.

“You never know with these things,” she admitted. “It couldbe tomorrow, they could put it off indefinitely. All I know is that I can onlyhold it off for so long and in the end, it’s not my choice.”

Everything Shepard did was ultimately her choice. Exceptnow, things were beyond her control. Even with everything she’d done, she wasalone and scared and she deserved better than this. His hand stopped justbefore her shoulder, as if there was a wall between them.

“How are you doing?” He didn’t expect a response, not a realone anyway, but he caught her off guard.

“I’ve been better.” She turned just enough that hisfingertips just brushed up against her. A jolt flew between them. Just biotic static, nothing more.

“Is there anything I can do?” Slowly, carefully she leanedinto it. Her back and shoulders relaxed and her breathing steadied just alittle. He wondered how long it had been since anybody touched her.

Then she caught sight of their reflection in the window.

“Just go.”  It wassudden, cold, and sharp, but he didn’t fall back. “See your family. Be a goodsoldier for Steven. Whatever you need to do. Just don’t come back here.” Itsomehow felt more like instructions than a dismissal.

He backed away slowly, reluctant to leave her alone again,but he had his orders. Still, he paused at the door. “Be careful Shepard.”

She didn’t respond at first, but just before he left, shereplied, so soft he almost missed it, “You too Kaidan.”

#Gray Writes Stuff #rpgwarrior4824 #Commander Shepard #Kaidan Alenko

[junionigiri]

Peony Pink and Cherry Blossom Tea Ch 6: Can We Talk

Summary: Things go wrong in the feelings department in the worst way

Relationships: Todoroki Shouto/Uraraka Ochako; past Shindo You/Uraraka Ochako; background Tokage Setsuna/Jirou Kyoka

Rating: T

Warnings/Notes: um. Angst and I’m sorry about that. Pls don’t hate Yui

“Hey there,” someone says from behind her. “That’s… an interesting thing your doing to our weights.”

Uraraka Ochako, fifteen years old, first year student of Ketsubutsu High’s general studies department, looks guiltily from the floating set of weights to the owner of the voice.

Her eyes meet dark hair, all messed up but in a nice way, like he just rolled out of bed. A handsome face with a sharp jaw, a little dirty and scratched from a scuffle. His gym clothes are all soaked with sweat and burnt and torn to shreds at different areas. He smells like he rolled around a barbeque pit, making her wonder what the heck are these hero course students doing, killing themselves in training?

“Oh,” she says in embarrassment, releasing her quirk on the weights all at once. They fall noisily on the concrete floor, making an ugly sound that causes both of them to flinch. “Yeah, sorry. Am I allowed here? If I’m not, can you pretend that this didn’t happen? Sorry, I got bored, and my friends--”

He raises two pretty eyebrows at her, lets one side of his mouth curl up in interest. “You got bored waiting for your friends, so you started floating weights around? Most girls just play on their phones or text, or something,” he says with amusement.

She shrugs and scratches the back of her head. “I would, believe me, but--”

Her phone is an ancient thing with a huge line in the middle of the screen that dies when she uses it for more than fifteen minutes. It’s at ten percent right now, and she left her charger at home, and she really didn’t want to walk the 2 kilometers to her tiny apartment in the darkening city without a working phone.

She doesn’t want to explain the pathetic story of her phone and poverty, though, so she stammers out, “Much more interestin’ usin’ my quirk than playin’ Candy Crush, that’s fer sure.”

He guffaws, and she sees a row of perfect, mesmerizing white teeth. “Well, you’re right about that,” he says. “You’re also right about you not being allowed here. This place is technically for hero course students only.”

She flinches. “Um… okay… so about the pretending part--”

He tilts his head, a smile that’s both playful and devious on his lips. “You asking me to be an accomplice, Ms. General Studies?”

On the surface, that easygoing smile is telling her that it’s okay to say yes. But Ochako finds something a little disconcerting under that facade of his--she knows he’s plotting something under that pretty boy face of his, but what?

She stares dumbly at him, not really sure what to do, until he laughs and breaks the tension. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t see anything,” he tells her with another easy smile. “Just don’t do it again. You might wreck our equipment with that quirk of yours, ya know?”

She feels her ears turn red. “I’m sorry, I just got surprised. I don’t get to practice my quirk as much as you guys,” she says, picking up the weights one by one, floating the heavier ones in the air. She tries to be gentle with the landing, but partial gravity release is hard. When she releases them, the guy has to run and catch them in one hand.

Muscles in his arm bulge as he does. She bites her lower lip.

She isn’t sure if he notices. He pauses a bit, eyebrow raised. “That’s too bad, ‘cos your quirk is cool. If you went to the heroes course, I think we’d work really great together.”

She blushes further. No-one has ever told her that her quirk was anything other than ‘okay’, because while it’s exceedingly simple compared to others, at least it didn’t make her look weird or smell bad. ‘Cool’ isn’t a term she’s ready to hear. “Thank you,” she says, because she isn’t sure what else to say.

The guy steps closer to her. “I’m not just saying it. I’m serious. You don’t look like you believe me.”

She laughs awkwardly and steps back. “I… I didn’t say that.”

“Here, I’ll prove it to you.” Suddenly her hands are in his, and he’s staring right into her eyes and she’s paralyzed.

She hears her heart pounding wildly in her chest, feels the blood rush from her brain to her heart to her cheeks and the sound is so loud she almost doesn’t understand what the boy tells her next.

“Let’s spar. Right here.”

She freezes. Makes a silly face that makes him laugh out loud.

“I’m serious!” he repeats, dragging her to the sparring area with cushions. She stammers all the way there, even when he somehow gets her to pull off her shoes and stand in front of him, arms akimbo. “It’ll be quick. You try to activate the floaty thing on me, and I’ll try to dodge. Promise, I won’t use my quirk against you or knock you out or anything.”

She gives him another ridiculous look, shakes her head. “Are you sure?”

He smiles lazily at her, and positions herself for combat.

With a smirk, she tosses her uniform blazer aside, rolls up her sleeves, gets into position.

It’s a tough seven minutes, but it ends with the over-enthusiastic boy hooting up the ceiling in excitement, and Ochako collapsing on the mat from sheer exhaustion.

She releases the quirk, and he falls, lands on all fours like it’s no trouble. He helps her up with one pull of a strong arm and asks for her name, as if the thought just came to him then.

What a weirdo, she thinks, and tells him her name.

After that fight, life goes on in General Studies. In between struggling with English and chatting with her friends about the cafes they want to visit after school, Ochako doesn’t think much about him, except in quiet moments where she’s alone and she’s free to squeal and smile and roll over in her bed like an idiot.

Two weeks later, she finds a letter in her locker--a messy scrawl asking to meet with her outside. No signature. Her girl friends squeal at the potential confession. She shrinks at the potential threat.

When she gets there, Shindo Yo, as promised, stands there by himself with just his easy smile and his sincerity. “Uraraka-san, I like you,” he says with an intense look in his pretty dark eyes that makes her melt. He takes both hands in hers again, making sure that her finger-pads don’t make either of them float this time. “Please go out with me.”

She manages to say yes, somehow, despite the fireworks going off in her little brain. The happy smile on his face makes her heart feel full. He holds her hand, fingers intertwined, and takes her home.

When they find out the next day, all her friends squeal and ask how the heck did you manage to get the most popular guy in the hero course to look at you? At the risk of admitting violating school policy, she keeps her mouth shut and her smile consistently mysterious. 

Days later, she opens her shoe locker and finds it full of garbage.

 *

 Ochako, strangely enough, misses the unsophisticated, garbage-in-your-locker type of bullying in high school. Because at least then she has a concrete, visual evidence of all the nasty shit going on in those evil little minds of theirs. Plus she can make the garbage float above the bullies and make the icky shit drip over their heads. It’s a satisfying stunt she pulled off once, and paid for with a hard shove against her locker, which didn’t make it any less worth it.

Now that she’s all grown-up there’s nothing as solid as garbage that showed their nasty thoughts in striking clarity. Only whispers and dirty looks that just won’t die down. Only these so-called professionals making her wait for too long when she needs to endorse important things about patients, and then blaming her for her slowness when things happen. Only anonymous comments on her (already locked) social media accounts and on the HGH Facebook pages that make not-so-subtle comments about her spending so much time staring into Doctoroki’s eyes that she makes a lot of mistakes at work.

Her HGH ‘parents’ are enraged, of course. Mina especially is always on the verge of throwing hands at anyone who so much as squints in Ochako’s direction. Eijiro, the more rational parent, has been coaching her to tell the nursing supervisor about the goings-on, but how is she going to do that when one of them told her to keep her relationship from affecting her work?

Also! How can her ‘relationship’ get in the way of work, anyway, when there isn’t much happening in that area? Sure, they make enough public appearances (lunch in the very middle of the cafeteria, facing each other, fifteen minutes max twice that week!) to keep the charade going, but… Doctoroki and her have gone back to being quiet.

It’s not that they’re being cold. They text as often as they can, but things have been insane at work. Shouto needed to back-up Dr. Momo a lot this week. There has also been an increase in villain activity everywhere, which means more wounded civilians and pros to tend to. Ochako herself feels the strain. She replies to him diligently, tries to get a conversation going despite the hour-long gaps in between replies.

It definitely isn’t the same as the nice talk they had over the weekend. She supposes this is why there are articles and articles in girly magazines about how hard it is to date anyone in the medical profession--for them, time is a construct that only serves to tell them how much they haven’t accomplished yet.

But at least this time Shouto seems to be a little less clinical in his texts.

  Todoroki Shouto (1434H): Got a case with pedia--trauma, burn injuries, just stabilized. The pro who rescued the child days ago just visited. Midoriya is having his pre-op crying session as we speak.

Todoroki Shouto (1434H): Should I comfort him, or let him be? I feel very out of place just watching him here.

 Ochako giggles imagining the scene. Deku-kun doesn’t always need the pre-op sobfest, but in hard cases he does it to focus, and so he doesn’t burst out into tears in the middle of the OR. Or so he says.

Three hours ago, she realizes, as she looks at the timestamps. If the other nurses didn’t make her wait so long and didn’t give her such a hard time during endorsements, she might have been able to reply to him earlier.

She starts to type, sorry, Shouto… you know, im having a hard time with work lately

… and then shakes her head, puffs her cheeks, deletes. No, don’t… Shouto doesn’t need to hear your drama, he doesn’t need more emotional load, he doesn’t have that sort of responsibility for you. This isn’t real. Isn’t real.

  Me (1737H): sry! Brought a couple of cases to med ward, took a while!

Me (1738H): i hope u told him he was gonna be okay! deku-kun needs a lot of tlc!!!

Me (1738H): work hard!!! I hope the baby makes it :(

 She sighs and drops her phone in her scrubsuit pocket and patiently waits for her ‘tattoo date’ in the hospital lobby.

Her phone vibrates again, and she inhales a bit, hoping that it’s Dr. Tokage telling her that she’s on the way down and they can finally go to Illusion Inks for her next session with Jirou. It’ll be an hour of her being pierced with needles while watching two pretty girls shamelessly flirt while she simmers in mild jealousy, but it’s definitely better than moping about at home and waiting for the next reply from--

  Shindo Yo (1740H): Hi, Uraraka-san!

Shindo Yo (1741H): Busy day at work, I bet (✖╭╮✖) it’s the same for us too

Shindo Yo (1741H): what r u up to?

 She stares glumly at the texts. Of course it isn’t Doctoroki. She breathes, asks herself why she’s doing this, but does it anyway.

  Me (1742H): I’m on my way out of work, senpai.

Shindo Yo (1743H): wow, ur replying fast to me today! Happy~ Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ

Shindo Yo (1745H): u must be rly rly pissed at work today huh? lol

Me (1747H): ig

Me (1747H): lots of villain attacks lately. busy

Shindo Yo (1748H): u know it :( we’re trying our best too. Just worked a double shift cos of that. Im beat!

Me (1749H): same

Shindo Yo (1750H): yeah u look like it 〈(゜。゜) gotta do sth bout that

 She freezes and narrows her eyes at the text. Wait, don’t tell me--

  Me (1751H): senpai. Dont be creepy

Shindo Yo (1752H): waaaah im not

Me (1752H): im callin security

Shindo Yo (1753H): pls dont i promise im not bein creepy!!!

Me (1754H): yes. u. r!!!!

Shindo Yo (1754H): only a little!!! just dont move ok?

 From her vantage point in the middle sofa, she immediately looks around the lobby. There are only a few people sitting, waiting, speaking to the receptionist, who all suddenly turn to her with barely-concealed interest in their eyes.

She smells strawberries from behind her. When she turns her head, she gets a faceful of box and strawberry scent. “What the--”

“Whoa, easy,” that familiar voice says with a chuckle. “You really are extra pissed today, huh.”

She gets the box out of her face and gives Shindo Yo a solid glare. “Senpai! What are you doing here?!” she squeaks.

He isn’t wearing his skimpy hero uniform, thank god. He’s in a shirt, a leather jacket and skinny jeans, a lazy smile on his face that would have made her stupid with want in her younger years. He chuckles again and leans forward. No sense of personal space whatsoever, as usual. “Had business here. I’m just waiting for my associate to get to the lobby so we can time out.”

She raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. “We?”

“My new agency, remember? We’ve been crazy busy lately, but when we get time we try to see the people we help out on the field.” He moves the box around, as if it’s proof enough of his claims. “I just saw a young lady I rescued from an attack in Naruhata. She gave me an entire box of strawberry mochi. Which is sweet, but unfortunate, seein’ as I don’t really like sweets and all…”

Even though it’s not uncommon for pro heroes to do just that, especially the young ones, Ochako isn’t convinced. “Really. Where is she admitted?”

Shindo rolls his eyes, pulls out a card attached from the box and reads. “Dear Seismic-sama, Thank you for saving my life. Heart eyes. It isn’t much, but please accept my gift! This is my fav snack ever and I hope this makes you happy, exclamation exclamation. Stars and hearts and cute rabbit with hearts for eyes. Love, Luna-chan from room 432.”

He lets her read the card, and she has to admit that the glittery gel ink and the cutesy handwriting makes it look genuine. She stops narrowing her eyes. “Okay. I guess that’s pretty nice, senpai.”

“Right?” he says with a proud little grin. “Am I still creepy, Uraraka-san?”

She puffs her cheeks. “You still are,” she says with a petulant upturn of the nose. “I really thought you were waiting to ambush me! You really gotta be less weird when you text!”

“Haha, fine fine.” He tries to look apologetic, but not really. “So… you alone here? Are you waiting for Todoroki-san, or…”

“Oh… no… he’s busy,” she says. Instinctively, she looks at her phone and sees no messages. She wonders if the surgery is over.

“Hm. Odd.” There’s a little devious glint in his eyes as he says it, one that makes Ochako narrow her eyes at him again like he’s a creep. “What, I’m just saying! Because she told me she’s just finished talking to him, and--”

She? Who she? Also, what would Shindo know about Todoroki anyway? Seriously, why does he care so much about the two of them, when--

“Shindo-senpai. Uraraka-san,” someone says from behind him, making Ochako’s words of protest die in her mouth.

Two people approach from behind them, staring at their conversation as if it’s the strangest thing in the world. Ochako meets Kodai Yui’s raven eyes and glassy skin and aura of gentleness that she’ll never achieve in her lifetime ever. The momentary breathlessness that any normal person gets from staring at her magnifies upon seeing the person next to her.

“Oh… Yui-chan and Todoroki-kun,” Shindo says. Standard friendly smile on his face, a raise of an eyebrow as he glances at Ochako knowingly. “You guys done with your little talk?”

Ochako doesn’t mean to stare, but the way Shouto looks at her in a mildly perturbed manner makes her wonder how shocked her face must look like.

Yui nods. “Our patient is okay. Todoroki-san and Midoriya-san did well.”

The other pro nods, and then sticks his hand out to shake Shouto’s. “So I guess that means I should congratulate you, Doc? Yui-chan was so worried about Tanuki-kun. She was pretty happy knowing that you were on board the case and all, ya know?”

Face not moving the slightest, Shouto nods and takes Shindo’s hand. “Thank you. Seismic-san, right?”

“Nah, you can call me Shindo. Or, senpai. We didn’t go to the same school, but we’re both proper heroes, you and I,” he says, eyes creasing. “Uraraka-san calls me that, so I don’t mind if you do too.”

“Hm,” says Shouto, looking at Ochako curiously.

Ochako stupidly looks down on her hands.

Yui glances at the two of them with an unreadable look before looking at Shindo again. “Senpai, Yoarashi-san might be wondering where we are right now.”

“Ah, you’re right.” Shindo makes a bashful face and bows to the two of them. “Sorry for cutting our conversation off so abruptly, Uraraka-san! I guess we can continue next time, eh?”

“Huh? No, that’s--”

Before she can protest no, we aren’t talking about anything important at all, don’t say misleading things in front of my fake boyfriend, Shindo is already pushing Yui by her shoulders out of the lobby and giving the two of them a small wave of one hand. Soon, they disappear in the elevators, leaving the doctor and the nurse alone.

Shouto blinks once and trains his eyes to hers. “You two seem close,” he says neutrally.

She nods, bites her lower lip. “I knew him from high school.”

My first boyfriend, she wants to say. First person I ever loved. First boy to ever break my heart. Because it’s the truth, a distant one that’s so far away that she should feel nothing significant if she admits them.

Still, she doesn’t. And she wonders why the words don’t come.

“Hm,” Shouto repeats.

There’s something odd going on in his eyes, something very hard to read. Ochako decides that if he were to ask anything at all about Shindo, that she’d tell him everything--how they started and how they ended and how Shindo is weaseling himself back into her life and she’s probably giving him one too many chances to do so by replying to his stupid texts because she’s stupid and lonely and stressed over all the gossip and all the things going on in Shouto’s family that really isn’t any of their faults--basically all that she can’t tell Shouto because heaven knows he’s got too much on his plate as it is, and Shindo seems to like listening to her, but she really wished that it was just Shouto and her and none of this shitty drama--and even though none of this is real, sometimes it feels so real , just like their drive back from Shizuoka, and--

And…

And, Shouto doesn’t say a single word. And… all that senseless drivel dies down her throat. She looks down on her hands again and gives up on that trainwreck of ideas.

Instead, she braces herself and says, “You and Yui-san.”

He blinks. Without a word or a single movement, waits for her to continue.

She inhales as quietly as she can, and speaks again. “I didn’t know you guys spoke too,” she manages, without any incriminating lilts to her tone. Or so she hopes. “I mean… I’m not, you know--I’m just a little bit surprised, I didn’t know she was the pro you were talking about earlier--”

Ochako do you really sound as much as a jealous bitch as you do in your head?! You’re just stating cold hard facts, so don’t be weird about this. Don’t be stupid.

Shouto speaks, after a beat of loaded silence. “I should have texted you about her, I suppose,” he says quietly. “She went to us right before the surgery to make sure that--”

“Paging Dr. Todoroki to ER. Dr. Todoroki, to ER now. Dr. Todoroki--”

They look up the ceiling, then at each other, and down on the ground simultaneously. Open their mouths at the same time, wordlessly clamp them shut as if they’re each other’s awkward, awkward mirrors.

Shouto exhales quietly, and says, “I should go. That might be Dr. Aizawa looking for me. I heard there’s been another Nomu attack nearby.”

Ochako nods. She tries to give a bright smile. “Okay. Do your best, Todoroki-kun.”

“Okay. Be careful going home, Uraraka.” He looks down on her hands, that odd look never leaving. Ochako carefully stares at his mouth, waits for the usual smile he gives her before they part ways.

It doesn’t come. Soon she watches his broad back disappear as he goes past the doors to the ER.

Later, she realizes that she’s still holding the box that Shindo left behind. For Seismic-sama, the card reads, clearly visible to the naked eye.

She wants to shove her face repeatedly into the stupid mochi.

 *

 The bothersome feelings of that odd encounter don’t leave her, not even when Setsuna eventually makes it to the lobby and asks her why she looks like she looks like Dr. Shiozaki after talking to an atheist. She manages not to say a lot of how she feels on the way to Illusion Ink, but eventually caves to the heavy interrogation when Kyoka starts working on her tattoo again.

(It’s really hard to be dishonest while a sharp needle is drawing lines on the inner, softer side of your arm.)

She doesn’t tell them about the fake-dating scheme. Just her honest troubles about people talking shit and treating her like shit, but not hard enough that she can complain to people about it. People hinting that she isn’t good enough for Shouto, just because she’s an ordinary nurse with an ordinary face and an ordinary quirk, and how fucked up it is that people would rather see him with Yui-san rather than someone like her.

And actually seeing him with Yui-san, out of nowhere… that took her by surprise. Made her feel weirder than it should. Shouto didn’t even look that bothered when Ochako was eyeing the two of them with all those silent questions floating in her head. She was ready to listen to whatever excuse--no, explanation he would give, but he got paged, and all she has is that heavy shitty feeling in her tummy to bring home.

“Hm,” Kyoka says, as she lifts the needle and dabs her swollen skin with gauze. (Lots of people going hm this evening. She’s starting to get sick of it.) “And you say that Doctoroki saw you talking to that Shindo guy at the lobby, right?”

Ochako winces, but doesn’t say anything.

“Hm,” Setsuna concurs, as her sharp teeth work through a strawberry mochi. “Todoroki saw, all right. I was watching all of you from the back, ‘cause it looked like drama was ‘bout to go down--”

Her jaw drops, allowing a shocked stupid sound escape from it.

“-- and it was obvious that Seismic was super into you,” she continues without an ounce of shame. Her disembodied hand floats and stuffs a mochi into Kyoka’s mouth, who receives it blankly. “If I were Todoroki, I’d be super bothered. But he didn’t say anything at all after that encounter. Right, Ochako-chan?”

She closes her jaw, and winces again. That’s also part of why she feels like shit right now. “Is it weird that I feel bad that he didn’t feel bad about this?”

The other girls look at each other. “Well… I mean if it were us, and it was Yui instead of Seismic makin’ eyes at Kyoka-chan, I won’t be bothered,” says the lizard girl thoughtfully.

“I agree. Yui looks like a sweetheart,” the tattoo apprentice agrees with a sage nod. “I even got her photobook! It’s really nice, I understand why they had a stampede over it--”

“Oh shit, is it the unofficial one by the photographer, Spiral?” gasps Setsuna, eyes wide when Kyoka nods at her smugly. “Let me borrow please omg I heard the entire book is soul-cleansing, and heaven knows my dead and rotting soul needs cleansing--”

Ochako immediately realizes that she’s speaking with the wrong pair. She sighs as they gush a little more about Yui, until they notice her simmering in a pool of insecurity.

“Oh, but we don’t mean that you’re any less of a sweetheart than Yui,” says the internist with a cackle. “Uh… right. What I was saying was, it’s different, what happened earlier. Seismic and you? I dunno, I guess for others it looks like you guys were just talking but… when I saw you I had half a mind to get you out of there… something just didn’t feel right, I guess? And I was totally waitin’ for Todoroki to do the same, but...”

He didn’t. The little nurse twists her lip. “I wish you got me out of there, Dr. Tokage,” she sighs. “Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so…”

Disappointed. Guilty. 

“Weird,” she finishes, with a sigh.

“Hm.” Kyoka and Setsuna say in unison, eyeing her with sympathy and suspicion and it’s weird how they mixed those together.

“Well,” the tattoo artist says thoughtfully, triangular eyes boring right into hers in the most grown-up glint she’s ever seen, “I get the confusion, I really do. You’re dealing with a lot at work, so you’re not at your best right now. Maybe that thing with that Shindo guy is nothing, and that thing with Yui is nothing, and maybe it isn’t worth it to be weird about it. But I think that all those weird things that you’re feeling should be expressed as they are to Doctoroki. You know? I mean… it might be a weird conversation, but you guys are in a real, adult relationship--”

She tries not to choke at the last part.

“--and real, adult relationships require real, adult conversations. Otherwise, there’d be misunderstandings, and trust me, those are the things you want to deal with as soon as possible. Right, Setsuna?”

Setsuna nods and gives Ochako a sawtooth smile. “Gotta say, Ochako-chan, you got your work cut out for you, eh? Shouto’s a talker, isn’t he?”

The nurse sighs deeply. He can be, if he wants to, but it’s obvious that he didn’t want to say anything earlier. Maybe for him it’s all nothing.

Maybe she should talk to him about it. But… how to start talking to Todoroki Shouto about… feelings ?

Yikes, Ochako. Good luck.

The troubled nurse closes her eyes as Kyoka continues shading the entire planet Saturn on her arm.

 *

  Me (2143H): hey! Im home from illusion ink. Arm hurts like crazy. Dr Tokage gave me a ride back. How r u?

Todoroki Shouto (2200H): That’s good. I’m waiting for our turn to use the OR. It’s going to be a busy night.

Me (2202H): Oh no. Please do your best! ;;;;

Todoroki Shouto (2201H): Thank you. I will.

Me (2217H): Say, Shouto. I know this is weird for me to ask, but

Me (2218H): Can we talk?

Todoroki Shouto (2219H): ?

Todoroki Shouto (2219H): We’re talking now.

Me (2220H): No, I mean. Like a real talk irl. Over food or sth

Me (2221H): I can treat you anywhere u like promise

Todoroki Shouto (2221H): Ah.

Todoroki Shouto (2222H): It might be difficult to do so soon. I’ll do my best to make time.

Todoroki Shouto (2224H): I’ll let you know as soon as I can.

Me (2226H): Oh! Thats totally fine i get wat u mean

Me (2228H): so yeah, i guess ill just wait for ur schedule to clear up;; and mine too hahaha

Me (2245H): ah, so, i gotta go to bed soon, got the morning shift tomorrow

Me (2246H): good night ^_^

  Todoroki Shouto (0214H): Sorry about that. We just got out of surgery.

Todoroki Shouto (0215H): Please be patient with me, Ochako.

Todoroki Shouto (0230H): Good night.

 *

 Things happen. Outside, society’s on the verge of crumbling because villains keep popping up left and right.

Life in the hospital, however, goes on.

This week, Shouto and Ochako manage to make exactly one public appearance: a coffee run at the convenience store next to the hospital lobby, before he forces his sleep-deprived self to drive her home. She isn’t sure if he does it out of obligation to their set-up, or if he needed a functioning pair of eyes at the passenger seat to wake him up if he falls asleep on the wheel… which happens twice, at different stoplights.

They make it to Ochako’s apartment without incident. She watches him carefully as he rubs his tired eyes and takes a swig of the cheap coffee, which makes his mouth curl in distaste. “Are you going to make it home, Doctoroki?”

He nods, although his sallow eyes seem to say the contrary.

She swallows nervously and says, “You can… take a nap inside, if you want to--”

“I’ll be okay,” Shouto says, with sudden clarity. “I don’t want to impose.”

But you should, she thinks. “I don’t want you to get in an accident.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t. Promise.”

He drains the coffee, to prove his point further. Ochako continues to eye him warily, but it looks like entering her tiny home will make him more uncomfortable than dying on the road, so she keeps her mouth shut.

“You can… take a nap in your car, if you need to,” she says, unbuckling her seatbelt with a sense of defeat.

“Don’t worry about me.” He tries to look at her with some assurance. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home. Or when they pull me out of the wreckage. Either way.”

She laughs nervously. That’s all she can do at this point.

Thankfully, twenty minutes later as she sits on the floor biting her fingernails to the crescent, Shouto sends a photo of his car, parked safely in the garage. Home. I’ll be sleeping in a bit. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

And that’s that, for the week. Ochako feels a little empty, if she were being completely honest with herself, but really, she shouldn’t have hoped for anything different than this sudden exhausted back-and-forth between them.

She shouldn’t have allowed herself to feel much more than that.

Because as it happens, on the dull Tuesday that follows, all hell breaks loose in the feelings department, in the worst way that it can.

 *

 It happens like this:

1409H. Most of her work is done, she isn’t on deck for the next procedure. All her paperworks are done, and her shift is essentially over. It’s one of those rare good days at work where she finishes on time. Eijirou and Yuuga are done, too, and to celebrate the rare miracle of being out of the hospital in the light of day, they decide to treat themselves to a nice meal.

Eijirou and Yuuga argue about where to go for some time. In hindsight, Ochako thinks that things might have gone differently if Yuuga had insisted on wanting to eat Monoma’s croque madame a little bit more, but as it happens Eijirou convinces them that NTG cafe is the way to go, because have you even tried their truffle pasta Aoyama? Oh my god you should, and also he wants to see if the owner, Bakugou, is doing okay today. (He doesn’t elaborate much when he’s asked why he wants to check, though.)

Ochako hasn’t been to this cafe much--the first time she ordered something, Bakugou was manning the counter and had the gall to write RoundFace on her cup. Never mind how accurate it is, and how very amused Mina was at the time it happened, it was still pretty darn rude. But she digresses.

Today, though, the other blonde barista named Kaminari takes their orders, and they take a seat at the back of the cafe, near the exit at the other side.

As they wait, Yuuga gushes about the Idiabazal cheese he got thru the Cheese of the Month club. Ochako tries to be interested, but ducks down to send a message on her phone very quickly:

  Me (1432H): I finished work on time today so im eatin out with eijirou-kun and yuuga-kun :) i hope work won’t be too insane for you today.

 She stares at the screen for a good minute after she sends it, expects nothing and sees nothing. She pushes her phone back to her pocket, tries to lose herself in Yuuga’s sparkles, and…

The cafe collectively holds its breath, as the pro-hero Yui enters.

Even Yuuga pauses for a good second to say, “Ah! My, isn’t she stunning?”

Dressed simply in a sleeveless white shirt and jeans that fit her just right; very light make-up that enhances the glow of her face. Straight, dark hair that falls over her shoulders. She goes to the counter to place her order, not minding how Kaminari instantly goes whey and almost messes everything up.

“Yeah, she is,” Ochako admits with just a smidgen of sour in her voice. She watches as Yui regards the grenade-matryoshka bomb at the counter with prolonged interest, opening and closing the doll as if it’s the most amusing thing in the world.

Huh, she thinks, seeing the unmistakable smile on the other girl’s face. So she can do something else with her mouth…

She reprimands herself for sounding so mean, and goes back to sipping her cold brew.

The door chimes as another person enters the cafe. She doesn’t look up, not until she hears Eijirou cough, and Yuuga hum in surprise.

Ochako almost doubles over herself, when she sees the scene in front of her.

Todoroki Shouto looks mildly out of breath, like he ran on the way there. His coat is slung over his arm, and when he reaches out to touch Yui on the shoulder, she turns and stares at him as if she’s expecting him to be there.

“What the,” Eijirou mumbles, looking at Ochako with more than just a little concern.

They exchange very sparse words, and pick a table at the other, more intimate end of the cafe. They don’t seem to notice that they are there. When they sit, Shouto’s back is to them. Yui’s face is visible from Ochako’s vantage point, if she peeks over the other customers’ shoulders.

“Well… this is quite étrange ,” Yuuga whispers to her, conspiratorially. “Did you know about this, mon enfant? ”

She numbly shakes her head and keeps an eye on them from a distance. Yui seems to be saying, thank you for meeting me here, Todoroki-san. You must be busy.

Eijirou reaches out for her hand. “Baby, you okay? Maybe we should go there and say hi? You know, it could be nothing, and...”

Ochako shakes her head again, and watches Shouto’s head move a little as he speaks. The heroine replies with a curt nod. There are plenty of words being exchanged--she misses a lot of the words being said, and barely deciphers, I understand. For your family though, this might be important.

The blonde turns to her with a questioning stare. “ Mes amies, Ochako doesn’t look so well, perhaps we should leave instead, let her have some fresh air--”

“Shush, you two,” she snaps, a little too sternly than she means. Her two friends flinch and look down. She’ll say sorry later, but now she can’t feel any sense of apology, she can’t feel anything--

Okay, Yui says, an odd look in her eyes. Her mouth doesn’t move from its usual straight, impassive line. She says something that Ochako can’t quite catch, and then--

I want to hold your hand.

Shouto freezes. Ochako freezes even more, because Yui reaches out and holds his right hand, and he doesn’t stop her, and she says something in such a low voice, her mouth barely moving, like it’s a secret between the two of them, and Shouto leans forward, says something back, and--

“Babe.” Eijirou’s tone is sharper now, sharp enough to cut through the panicked haze that her head is suddenly lost in. “Ochako. Look at me.”

She does just that, and wonders why his face is suddenly so hazy and why it’s hard to breathe. When she inhales, it’s shaky, and an ugly sob wants to escape from her open mouth. She doesn’t let it though, she focuses on the way Eijirou is holding her hand and the way Yuuga is patting comforting circles at her back, keeping the sounds at bay.

“Let’s get you out of here, okay?” the redhead says softly. He shimmies out of his hoodie and places it on top of her shaking head. “You don’t have to say anything, we’ll just get you through the back exits, get you some fresh air--”

“ Oui, ma petite chérie, ” Yuuga adds, dabbing her cheeks with a paper napkin and glaring at the other tables, who begin to stare. “We’ll take care of you, do not worry.”

“Okay,” she hiccups stupidly.

They make it outside somehow, away from prying eyes. Ochako guesses and hopes that the faraway table doesn’t notice them and her and her stupid tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. Eijirou drives her home, with Yuuga tagging along, sitting in careful silence.

In her tiny apartment (the one Shouto doesn’t even want to step into, ahhh it makes more sense now), she allows her friends to sit herself down on the floor, wrap a blanket or two around her, play her favorite songs. Yuuga fusses about her bare kitchenette and somehow comes out with a cup of hot cocoa, while Eijirou sends an SOS to Mina and Hanta to come after their shift, if they can.

They ask her to talk, in turn. About her and Doctoroki, if there were any problems, if there were any signs. Because, social media aside, come to think of it, her friends don’t know a thing about the two of them. “I mean, I see you guys eat together at work sometimes, but I… haven’t seen you two talk up close. Except that time in the locker,” Eijirou says as gently as he can.

She shakes her head. Keeping up appearances is hard enough to do for the crowds and Shouto’s family. “We haven’t been… talking a lot.”

They never did get back to talking about their IRL talk. They ask why, and the urge to tell her closest friends about the fake dating scheme wells in her chest like a dam about to break, but she stops herself on time. Still, she can’t give another reason other than being busy. Eijirou and Yuuga look at each other and sigh in unison.

“Whatever is going on, mon cher,” Yuuga says, after they carefully try to wheedle more useless details from her, “You two simply must talk. Yes?”

Ochako sniffles and says, “But… talking is hard.”

She’s afraid of admitting to Shouto that she feels hurt, even though by all accounts she doesn’t have the right to. Especially when Shouto did all this in the first place ‘so no-one gets hurt’.

Eijirou laughs and ruffles her hair, like the brat that she is. “Yeah. It is. But I don’t think you’ll feel any better just not talking about this right?”

She buries her face in her fluffy blankets and whines.

 *

  Todoroki Shouto (1756H): Good work today. The patient we operated on is recovering really quickly.

Todoroki Shouto (1758H): Are you on your way home?

Me (1805H): ya i am. In mina-chans car

Todoroki Shouto (1806H): Okay. Let me know when you’re safe at home.

Me (1810H): …

Todoroki Shouto (1812H): …?

Me (1814H): why

Todoroki Shouto (1820H): …

Todoroki Shouto (1821H): I’d like to know that you made it home without anyone causing you harm or threatening you.

Todoroki Shouto (1822H): I don’t want a repeat of what happened in Shizuoka.

Me (1825H): ah. ya that makes sense

Todoroki Shouto (1829H): Are you all right, Ochako?

Me (1830H): yeah i am

Todoroki Shouto (1831H): You sure?

Todoroki Shouto (1832H): Please be honest with me

Todoroki Shouto (1832H): Whatever is bothering you, I’d like to know. I’d like to help.

Me (1834H): Doctoroki

Me (1837H): Shouto, I mean

Me (1838H): When should we break up?

#todoocha #todochako #shouchako #peony pink and cherry blossom tea #cafe/hospital au #todoroki shouto #uraraka ochako #shindo yo #setsujirou #tokage setsuna #jirou kyouka #kirishima eijiro #aoyama yuuga #kodai yui #angst ahhh #sorry

[ahhllee]

Arrival

I’m barely awake as I write this but I’m too excited to sleep just yet! I arrived today around 6am in Korea (after some minor delays and an airport train debacle in Chicago O’hara). I met with my driver who took my luggage for me and helped me to my apartment from the airport. After getting locked out of my apartment with only my phone on me for a long 10 minutes, I finally got inside and was able to start to explore and settle in.

I was happily surprised to find that there were already many amenities provided by my school. I have internet set up and ready, cable coming in a couple weeks (once the teacher I’m replacing moves out), a TV, microwave, rice cooker, kettle, iron, hairdryer...even one of the teachers dropped by to donate an umbrella to me! Yeah, Korea was pretty gloomy and rainy today (geez, what kind of meaning does that have for me lol) but at least the pollution (미세먼지) was pretty low.

I’m so impressed by my apartment and all the help my school has given me. After a nap, shower, and a couple phone calls, I texted my supervisor to let her know I was pretty much all settled in. Ms. S came by and showed me the boiler room, how to work the heating and cooling, and wrote some translations on sticky notes for my intercom (!!! so fancy, Korea doesn’t do peepholes I have a whole camera and speaker system!) and microwave. She also gave me a LOT of information about the businesses in the building (dentist, two nail salons, clinic, convenience store, cafe, sauna...etc. etc.) and what will need to be done this week. A lot of information to take in, but I was glad to know that she really had it all prepared and helped answer questions I didn’t even realize I had.

After going through every cupboard and appliance in my apartment, she took me and some of the other teachers who were available to a buffet dinner. It was really good and she even checked with the staff about my food allergies for me. I got to know some of the other teachers and they seem really great! I’m excited to be training with one of them and working with the others!

Tomorrow Ms. S will take me for my medical exam and I will go with her and another teacher to the teacher’s clinic appointment. Ms. S really seems to go out of her way to help her staff out, which is really sweet and makes me feel a lot better about being in a foreign country where everything is really...foreign for lack of better term. I’m going with them so that I can see more of the area and go grocery shopping with them.

I’m really...happy right now. I was so anxious from arriving in the airport to finding my taxi man, and getting my bearings. I started to unpack and I can organize everything nicely later on, I just want to get everything out of the luggage so I can see what I need. I am happy to be in my space, knowing that I’m only a floor away from two other teachers and down the hall from another. I have my supervisor on speed dial as she insists she’s here for us all 24/7. It’s great to have this tiny community for help in a time where it would be really easy to feel alone. I can’t want to start working with the kids (I think my youngest class are 3rd graders!? That will be interesting...) and get adjusted to this lifestyle. I know that I can do this well, I just have to let myself take it all in and give myself the time to adjust. It might be weeks or months before I finally can take a breath and feel like I’m in control again (and if you know me, you KNOW control is a huge thing for me), but I’m ready to take this all as it comes to me. It won’t come easy, but taking the easy way out was never my intention.

[confused-scientist]

Things I Learned in Med School - Week 109 - 110

Apologies I realise I’ve been even more absent than usual over the past weeks. Things have been pretty crazy for me over the past few weeks and I haven’t really had the chance to sit down and write anything.

So here we go (I can tell this will be a long one so I’ll shove it under a cut)

Basically, at the end of this block our MD research project report is due, and there were a few more results I wanted to get before finishing it up. Honestly, I probably had enough data already without, but this was stuff I had said that I was going to do when I set this project up like 2 years ago, so I really wanted at least an attempt at getting it done.

But this basically meant that I would have to run from clinical to the lab even day for at least a week to get it all done. Luckily I am psych, so it wasn’t too hard to get off earlyish (aka after lunch) but even then I ended up burning the midnight oil more often than not. Was it worth it??..

Then this week it was all about finishing off the draft of the report asap, so I ended up again working until the early morning for most of the week just so I can give it to my very busy supervisor to read through so I have enough time to get it back, edit it and then send it off to my research tutor who also need to look over it before I submit it in… just over 2 weeks time… *gulp*

I also still need to cull a bunch of words… I think I’m still around about 500 over, and I just discovered this week that for every 300 words over you get penalized 10%! (wtf). Anyway, the whole thing has basically dominated my life over the past 2 weeks to be honest (to the detriment of EVERYTHING ELSE).

Luckily CL psych has been pretty awesome placement. The team itself is really good – everyone is really nice and they all seem to get on really well, they are also super happy to teach, answer questions, and give opportunities to do interviews, take notes, present cases and do MSEs/formulations.

And look… while I still don’t think psychiatry is necessarily MY calling, my thoughts on psychiatry have definitely evolved over the past 7 weeks – I’ve gone from dreading to going back on Monday morning (after the first week) to slightly disappointed that its all over. This is reality having two really awesome placements, where I just had teams that were really welcoming and happy to teach.

Finished off my last week of clinical placement with having my observed clinical interview for psych. I wasn’t really planning on having it this week, but my examiner was away so I hastily organized for early Friday.

You know what is really great prep for an observed long case… not sleeping for two weeks.

My patient was a little difficult – they had schizoaffective disorder and were quite thought disordered and also labile… going from positive, liking me and co-operating, to shutting down every single question I asked and asking the examiner whether we were finished, and then back again. As soon as I ended the interview and the patient left the room I realized to my horror that I haven’t done a proper risk assessment… which is basically something you can AUTOMATICALLY fail for.

I ended up flagging it very early during my presentation, and then examiner was like “You know I could fail you straight away for not doing this? But since you flagged it so early I’m going to give you a chance to save yourself.” Cue a 5 min discussion about how I would complete the risk assessment, what was high risk and low risk, what are protective factors… and then he was like “Okay, you survive.”

I actually ended up doing pretty well, but lost a few marks in the history section due to my risk assessment failure… but whatever I am more than happy to be done and dusted.

Only 1 thing left for this year… my Psych exam next week. I can’t wait to be done. Anyway, here are some things I learned in med school this last (two) weeks:

1.       Blood-injection-injury phobias are unique b/c they have 2 phases – the 1st phase come was an increased heard rate, and the 2nd is a vasovagal reaction leading to a drop in HR, low BP and fainting

2.       Just having 1 friend who abstains from drinking increase the chances of an alcohol user staying sober by 30%

3.       Clozapine is the only anti-psychotic that is clearly more efficacious than any other anti-psychotic

4.       1/4 of all deaths in the age range 15 – 19 in Australia are from suicide

5.       Streptococcal infection is associated with OCD and Tourette's syndrome

Quote of the week:

“They need to rationalize [their] meds. You shouldn’t just use a little bit of this and a pinch of that. It’s not a curry!” – Psych Reg

‘til next week

#medblr #studyblr #the clinical years #paam #things i learned in med school

[harmonic-psyche]

The Finalysis: @askgoopi and @askthewaywardaliens

Hey, I am back with more characters for The Finalysis™! Below, I analyze the characters from @ecstaticshli​‘s EarthUnBound continuity on @askgoopi​ and CogDis sister blog on @askthewaywardaliens​. Both blogs are still continuing their stories. While technically only @askgoopi​ is set in the alternate timeline called “EarthUnBound,” I am using that title for both blogs here because of their shared author/artist and characters and because is sounds Really Friggin Cool.

I am still experimenting with the visuals for these Finalysis posts, and I wanted to try something a bit less bare than in my Finalysis post for @askgiegueandcrew​. Hopefully the image is not too crowded. Also, I swear that the “Goopi vs. J” fight in the middle of the picture was unintentional at first — but then I realized that it reflects how they would probably react upon meeting. oh geez, now i want to see them meet and see how many milliseconds it takes for them to start fighting

With that said, on to the character analyses!

Blue Starman ("Stupid," or "Blu"): Seems like an ISFJ.

This nervous-looking "[s]cared nerd Starman" is much more easily frightened than his fellow Starmen, which suggests inferior Ne — especially considering that he regrets being a coward, his "personality" is "Chicken," and he has a bad habit of second-guessing himself. Even in his military decisions, he shows caution. As a "pushover," Blu lacks the toughness of auxiliary Te, implying Fe instead. Also, seeing Giegue happy would make Blu happiest, showing Fe's desire to make others happy. While these facts suggest ISFJ, I have not seen enough of him to feel confident about my typing.

Giegue ("Goopi"): Probably ESTP, maybe ESTJ.

Canon Giegue is ISTJ, but "Goopi" here appears much more impulsive and aggressive. For example, his "bad habits" include "attacking others for seemingly no reason." While canon Giegue is not friendly, before the madness set in he tended to stay calm unless provoked or carrying out a cruel plan. In contrast, Goopi takes a sadistic pleasure in attacking others just for the sake of killing them. He once broke a promise with Static simply because he wanted to kill her after torturing her. Canon Giegue also uses a much more detached and clinical tone than Goopi, who loves using crude, petty insults so much that he literally named all of his Starmen after them. That degrading, crude humor is most common among ESTP types, and notably lacking from Giegue in canon or on @askgiegueandcrew​. In canon, Giegue only acts to follow his plan(s) or when he loses control of himself. On the other hand, Goopi often acts merely for pleasure without a plan or a reason: "I don't need much of a reason," "I did what I did because I wanted to." These show far more impulsive and hedonistic behavior, implying Se rather than Si.

At first, I was unsure if I could justifiably type Goopi differently from canon Giegue. Since they are from different universes, though, they are different characters: Goopi is "a completely different Giegue" (PMs with @ecstaticshli​ 2018-06-22).

J the Shadow: Definitely ISTJ.

Cautious, tough, and stoic to the core, J is an archetypal ISTJ. As an introvert who is still working on acting social, he prefers to avoid the spotlight. Si-dominance is evident in his (over?)protective unwavering loyalty to Vivi, since he considers himself her personal "bodyguard" (a.k.a. "guard dog" — compare the running joke about Si-dominant Pia the loyal dog). J does not hesitate to intimidate, threaten, or attack others to prove it when he thinks that they threaten Vivi. He shows no F-type squeamishness. While he "[t]ends to not be very friendly to others ... if he trusts someone he will be loyal and do his best to protect them," showing Si loyalty without Fe friendliness.

Te over Fi appears in his tough attitude, blunt tone, resent for receiving others' pity, "aggressive demeanor," and tendency to be embarrassed by emotional and cutesy situations — which, naturally, happen all the time around Vivi. When feeling insecure, he responds with aggression. As he has shown repeatedly, he hates being called adorable despite the obvious fact that he totally is adorable. In his own words, "It ain’t exactly easy for me to, uh, open up to others." Auxiliary Te's coldness and inferior Ne's paranoia make him distrust others by default ("We don’t know these people! I can’t trust them!"). While this can cause tension when he first meets other characters, it does help him protect those he cares about, especially Vivi. He also shows inferior Ne when he is totally thrown off by strange new perspectives, like whether he qualifies as an "insectoid."

Note also that, since "J is based on a later version of Giegue from EarthUnbound," it makes sense that J and Giegue would have identical personality types. Again, typing by analogy is unreliable, but in this case it sits on a huge pile of more-than-sufficient other evidence.

Nebula: Seems like an ISFJ.

This "[c]autious noodle" is "[c]alm, for the most part," but "[t]ends to panic when things go horribly wrong," making "other people assume ... [that s]he's a worrywart." Those show inferior Ne, and a lack of Te's decisiveness. Even though Nebula made Static act serious (a minor miracle) when Goopi attacked, came up with a plan, and pointed out that other mooks needed help escaping, she froze up and did not volunteer to help them when Static asked. These show her calm, serious planning skills (Si) and desire to help others (Fe) without any impulsivity (Ne). Nebula corrects others about scientific details even in crisis situations, showing that she is a stickler for detail (Si). Also, she probably would not dare kill anyone, showing what I call "F-type squeamishness." I do not have all that much confidence in typing Nebula, though. I have only seen her in a crisis situation, in which characters often act unusually compared to their normal personality. 

Rac: Seems like an IN__.

Nebula's boyfriend is a "really smart," "nerdy noodle" who "[t]ends to be skittish and awkward at times." Being skittish and awkward suggests introversion. While there is only a weak correlation between intelligence and MBTI (specifically, iNtuition), there is a strong correlation between nerdiness and being an IN__ type.[citation not needed] Rac’s "fears" include "[s]paghettification" and "black holes in general," which are an unusually abstract subject to fear, suggesting N. His "bad habits" include "[s]econd guessing himself," showing a lack of confidence. As a research supervisor, though, he possesses a strong scientific curiosity and enough leadership skills to run his lab. Having never seen Rac's behavior, I cannot type him precisely. Any of the IN__ types could fit this description.

Starman Jr. ("Ugly," or "Ly"): Definitely ESFP.

Ly's "[s]assy and snarky" attitude, chill demeanor, and casual slang-based speaking style point to Se-dominance . So too does her low patience and risk-taking behavior, like when she threw a secret party which accidentally got Static captured. Still, she had good intentions: "I just wanted to do something nice for my friend." Still, Ly's impulsivity and good intentions do not always end poorly. In fact, they may be the only reason that Vivi is still alive.

When Ly found Vivi on a deserted planet, Ly insisted on taking Vivi aboard to heal her. Another Starman asked how they would handle Giegue's reaction, and Ly replied that "I'll figure that out when we get to that point." In other words, she had no plan (low Ni and Te), acting only on impulse (high Se and Fi). When Javik Goopi tried to throw Vivi out the airlock, Ly saved her life by standing up to Goopi, literally annoying him into stopping. It takes nearly-reckless courage to stand up to someone so powerful and unstable. Beyond that, the intentional use of annoyance for persuasion shows Fi's determination and willingness to embarrass everyone involved (compare Vivek the ENFP), whereas Fe-users would likely melt from the secondhand cringe.

Like Static's, Ly's individualist passion (auxiliary Fi) is accomplished through a facade of toughness (tertiary Te). After all, she is "practically the only one who can pretty much talk trash to Goopi’s face and not be killed for it." Her high Fi often causes righteous indignation. Combined with her tough demeanor, this makes her take no BS from anons ("Screw you! Nobody asked for your two cents, bub") who try to help Goopi or from inexplicably hostile mooks. Those show no Fe politeness, even though Fi makes Ly "willing to sacrifice [her] safety" for her friends' at the drop of a hat because of how much she cares about them.

Unlike Static, Ly lacks the eccentric cleverness of Ne — but she makes up for it with Se's down-to-earth decisiveness. Also, contrast their speaking styles: Ly's tends to have more "shortcuts," like dropping letters from the front ("worried 'bout," "lost track of 'em,") or end of words ("somethin' to," "damper on everythin'," "comin' up"). Dropping the -g from the end of words shows informality. Also, a lot of Ly's slang comes from slurred speech ("wanna," "gotta," "gonna," "outta") — and "ain't." Those all shorten words to make them more convenient, but also sound "unrefined," for lack of a better less pretentious word. At least among CogDis OCs, that style is a dead giveaway for Se-dominance (compare Boson, Juice, Rigby, and Szortski). Sensors are more likely to view language only as a tool, making them more straightforward. In contrast, iNtuitors also like to play with it, which is why — unlike Ly — Static really, really loves puns. 

Static: Definitely ENFP.

See full analysis for details. also i totally would've called that this "noodle" is a hugger. wait now i want to hug her :S

Vivineeh ("Vivi"): Probably ISFJ, maybe INFP.

I have tried to figure out which of those two types this "adorable" and "precious" (seriously, she is absurdly cute) noodle is for sooo long! Either typing could explain that she is "timid," "[w]ill cry at just about anything," and "super sensitive," since those come generally from I_F_. Likewise, either typing could explain that she "likes [b]eing kind, ... being around children, ... hugs, soft and/or fluffy things, [and] anything she finds cute." Sentimentality, enjoyment of receiving affection, and compassion can suggest high Fi or high Fe.

The evidence that I have seen barely tips the scales towards ISFJ. Vivi "always tries to be super nice and polite," because "she dislikes making others feel bad," and she loves making friends. Wanting everyone to be happy is generally a trait of high Fe-users, as is indiscriminate positivity — especially politeness, which shows an intuitive submission to social norms. Fi is typically less prone to share its feelings, more selective about them, and defiant of social norms like politeness. Finally, the "fearful" Vivi frequently worries and is easily scared/offended by dark humor, suggesting low Ne. I have already mentioned why inferior Ne causes worrying, and dark humor is appreciated by high Ne-users (compare Ano and Static) but offends Si's often-purist sensibilities. Finally, unlike other CogDis-related IN_Ps, Vivi does not show absentminded or eccentric behavior (contrast Keter, Loris, Niiue, and Origen).

Now consider the evidence for INFP. One might think that Vivi's social awkwardness suggests dominant Fi, because Fe is more socially adept. Yet ISFJs can often be socially awkward too, especially when caused by inferior Ne caution (compare Yi the ISFJ "just being awkward"). The contrast between Vivi's personality and J's also makes her seem like an INFP, because it seems unlikely that they share the same dominant function. Typing by analogy is weak evidence, though, and different extraverted-judging functions (Te vs. Fe) can cause a huge difference in demeanor. At first I though Vivi did not show Si-dominance because I had not seen her show its common (and admittedly stereotypical) traits like obedience to authority or effective detailed memory, but she shows both (PMs with @ecstaticshli​ 2018-06-22). While many parts of her culture "sicken and unnerve" her, as one would expect more from a Fi- or Ni-dominant repulsed at their society, she inherited most of her beliefs from her caretaker Marair. Like most ISFJs, most of her values are inherited from her family.

I am not entirely confident in an ISFJ typing, though. Vivi "likes ... trying new things, learning, [and] visiting new planets," which suggests high Ne. While Si-dominants can love learning, especially if it involves fact-collecting (compare Ore), they generally do not like trying new things. I cannot explain why Vivi likes trying new things, such as visiting new planets, using an ISFJ typing. In fact, she can be downright "adventurous" if she does not feel threatened (PMs 06-22). Similarly, Vivi's "hopeless romantic" idealism is more common among daydreaming INFPs than concrete ISFJs. As a Geik, Vivi seems more like an ISFJ, but as a Gieeg, she seems more like an INFP — but since they are the same character (PMs 06-22), I cannot type them differently.

Alright, that concludes my analysis of @askgoopi​ and @askthewaywardaliens​! Unless I forgot any characters. I considered including some of the other Starmen who serve under Goopi, and probably ought to add the Last Starman featured in recent posts —  especially since he may have a type very rare to CogDis (canon and fan-) characters. But since most of them appear almost exclusively in the background, have minimal dialogue, and lack Charahub entries, I realized that I would not have enough material to make a guess at their personality types.

I am unsure whose characters I will analyze next. Hopefully it will take less time to post the next part of Finalysis. Until then, goodnight!

#cogdis #mbti analysis #personality analysis #askgoopi #askthewaywardaliens #the finalysis #original content #myers briggs #mbti #psychology #goopi #vivi #vivineeh #static mook #j the shadow #nebula #rac #okay so normally i would leave a bunch of commentary here #as is my custom #but uh #it's like 1 am here #so i might leave it pretty short #but it suffices to say that i love these characters #and their stories #so thank you @ecstaticshli! :D #your art is amazing btw

[sleepyfan-blog]

How about #7 ('All I see is you') of the Song Lyric Prompts for ConHayth? uwu

pairing: Conhaythwarnings: father/son incest, modern AU, CEOxVet AUwords: 2,884

@balsaminaceae

​summary: Haytham visits Connor at work

Connor was having lunch in the breakroom of the research facility that he’d been working in for the better part of a year and a half. His father’s plans for having Abstergo offer some low-cost veterinary clinics in New York City – as well as in a couple of other cities were well on their way to being fully implemented – and they were starting to hire staff for it, and while Connor wanted very much to apply for one of those positions… He’d bonded with Corbin – one of the eagles that the research facility was doing behavioral studies on. The fact that he could see through the eagle’s eyes was something of a great deal of interest – not just with his supervisor, but with the rest of the research team. They had asked him an awful lot of questions –many of which were dizzyingly confusing and others he refused to answer without asking Haytham if he should answer first… As they pertained to the strange second sight ability, and as Connor suspected that his father had it as well, the young man was… Unwilling to speak of it, without Haytham being fine with him answering those questions as well.  

His uncertainty and reticence hadn’t gone well with his research partners – and he had noted more than a couple of suspicious glares from his supervisor as well. Although what they thought that he was hiding beyond not being comfortable answering what little he did know about the strange ability… Connor had no idea, and while the young man would normally just ask Haytham outright – as the two of them had been living together for the better part of six months now… His father was half-way across the world, taking part of an international business conference that many high-powered CEOs were attending, and had been for over a week. Connor missed his beloved dearly, and though they had been able to text one another occasionally – it wasn’t anywhere near close to what he wanted… Especially since they weren’t able to have texting conversations for more than an hour or two, as the time zones that the two of them were living in were so badly mismatched. Haytham wasn’t sure how long the conference was going to be – and to make matters worse his father had also implied that he might be staying longer than the end of the conference, depending on whether or not he was able to make connections with one or more of the CEOs who were based in that city or country… So then he would stay and hammer out some sort of business thing that would be beneficial to both of their companies.  

The radio was playing quietly in the far corner – it was set to an older music station, and the world seemed to be out to make him miserable – as a maudlin love song started to play – just as Connor was checking his phone, in the hopes that Haytham had answered his phone – which the other had yet to do so… Prompting a long, unhappy sigh to leave him as he stared morosely at the delicious lunch that he had been picking at for the better part of ten minutes, unwilling to eat and not hungry anyways. The young man sighed again, pushing the salad away from him as he folded his arms on the table as he pressed his cheek against one of his forearms, as he continued to stare at his phone, willing Haytham to suddenly respond to him. With his colleagues exiling him socially for reasons the young man could only vaguely guess at, and his father being so unavailable (though for good reasons…) he was terribly, terribly lonely…  

“Hey, are you alright Connor? You look a little down.” Salai asked, frowning a little at him as the other moved closer. They were a new addition to one of the other research teams – and the only person who would actually talk to him, since he’d been unable and unwilling to answer his own team’s questions about the strange ability he had – as he didn’t know how he’d been able to bond with Corbin, only that he’d managed to do so accidentally.  

“Oh… It’s just… I miss my boyfriend. He’s been at a business conference for a while… It’s out of the country so it’s not like we can really talk and…” Connor answered with another unhappy sigh. With a concerted effort of will, he straightened up, looking at the other and asking “How are you, Salai?” 

 "I… Oh… I understand what it’s like to miss your beloved. I… I had been dating someone for years – he was a few years older than me, but oh… He was brilliant, warm and amazing. But I… I found out that he was in love with another, and though he was… Fond… Of me… It was this other person who held his heart so completely. I… I broke things off with him, as it was terribly unfair of me to ask him to stay with me, as though he did love me… I didn’t seem to be quite enough for him.“ The Italian responded, looking utterly miserable and unhappy.

Connor’s heart lurched painfully, and he shoved away any anxiety or worries that started to spring to mind “I… Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, Salai… I know that it’s a rather trite thing to say…”  

“But I know that you genuinely mean what you say.” Salai responded, sitting down next to the empty chair next to him, answering with a tiny smile “I… I broke up with my former boyfriend several months ago. I’ve heard rumors about your mysterious boyfriend from the others. How you talk so happy about him, but you never mention a name.”  

Connor shrugged a little, still somewhat distracted by the maudlin tone of the love song, reminded strongly of the years he'd spent on the small town run by anarchists, as he really had missed his father every day... and the only person he'd ever seen in a romantic sense was Haytham – not that had changed in the least. "No one's asked – besides... You know what Abstergo's policy is, regarding dating fellow employees is..."  

"Ah, but I heard that your mysterious Vampire doesn't work in the building – that he was part of the business side? Or was he one of Abstergo's lawyers? Or so the rumors have whispered." Salai responded, a small smile appearing on his face "And, since no one has apparently asked... What's your boyfriend's name? I promise that I won't tell."  

There was no good answer to that question, and Connor knew it. He shouldn't have spoken more about Haytham... But how could he not, when the source of his unhappiness stemmed from the fact that his beloved was so far away? "I... It's not that I don't trust you, Salai... It's just that... You know what the fraternization policy is with Abstergo and I'd rather not mess anything up, you know?" That and though he could technically use his father's middle name – Edward – instead of his first name, as the latter was much more common... Trying to call the other by his middle name, even as a not-quite lie to one of his coworkers felt... Wrong.  

The Italian hummed a little, nodding and smiling amicably "If that's how you feel... I understand. But... And I'm not trying to say that your guy is doing the same that mine was... But sometimes some of the so-called business trips that he took weren't business at all... But rather visiting his other lover. Not that I blame the other lover – he was under the impression that the two of us were in an open relationship as he's poly, and the two of us had met before. Ezio thought that our initial meeting was him meeting me as one of my boyfriend's steady lovers."  

Connor blinked a little in surprise, dark eyes widening a little as he connected the dots – as Salai had seemed vaguely familiar – as one of the anarchists who had several hunting dogs was named Ezio – and was dating both Sofia and Leo – and the latter had a boyfriend named Salai. The chances that this man and the one that he was thinking of were the same person were... Unusual – but Salai worked in the same field that the possible-other Salai did and... "… Your old boyfriend wasn't Leonardo Vince, was it? And his other boyfriend – Ezio Auditore – about six inches shorter than me, black hair, dark eyes and a grin full of mischief?"  

"I... Yes... How did you...?" Salai sputtered, eyes widening a little "How did you know?"  

"When two of Ezio's hunting hounds went into labor, I was the vet who delivered both litters. I also oversaw both litters' shots and vet visits, while I was working at that clinic. He really had no idea that the two of you were in a monogamous relationship as he's many things... But though he flirts with anything on two legs, he tries very hard not to be a homewrecker." Connor responded, a small smile appearing on his face. "Ezio found you to be quite charming, and spoke of you to me a couple of different times, actually."  

"I... Oh... That's flattering. And you're absolutely right about Ezio... He was... Is, quite the charmer. I wouldn't have minded sharing Leo, if he had only talked to me." The Italian responded unhappily, shifting a little closer to Connor, looking as if he was about to start crying.  

"Err..." The younger man responded, uncertain if he should try to reach out to Salai and lightly pat the other on one shoulder, or to politely look away so that he had a couple of moments to compose himself without being watched by someone.  

Before he could decide either way, the head researcher of Connor's department poked her head into the breakroom and ordered, looking anxious, voice pitched low but tense "Salai – get back to your station. Hill come with me. Kenway himself is visiting the facility, and he wants to meet you – since you were the one who was able to bond with one of the eagles. Perhaps you'll answer his questions, if not ours."  

The young man flinched a little, startled by the darkness in her voice, but nodded, getting up and following her out of the breakroom, startled that Haytham was actually here – and though he'd have liked a bit more forewarning by his beloved... It should be nice to see the other again... Besides, his surprise at the CEO being there was just as genuine as everyone else's. "Of course boss. And as I said earlier, it's not because I won't answer your questions... It's that I don't know how, and I can't answer them, ma'am."  

~  

As his boss had said, Haytham was there, looking unfairly handsome in a well-tailored suit, watching several of the eagles fly around in their large enclosures. Connor wanted very much to enthusiastically greet his beloved, it would be wildly inappropriate for him to do so in this setting, not in the least because his boss was starting to speak with Haytham, which was why he was staying quiet while listening attentively, catching the end of what she was saying.  

"And as I have stated in my report, the only member of any of the teams who have been working with the eagles, only one of them has been able to bond with one of the birds as the... Long held rumors whisper is potentially possible. Ratonhnhaké:ton Hill, the young man behind me, is the one. He claims that he had contact with the eagle when the two of them had been younger – and has of yet, been unwilling – or unable – to explain how or why he was able to bond with the eagle – and to see through the eagle's eyes. He did once take Corbin out of the facility, although why he never did explain, beyond the apparent need of the other's ability to fly to search for something." His boss stated, her voice a little sharp with irritation.  

Connor tried desperately not to fiddle with his hands, looking down and away from the both of them as he waited to be asked something to speak. The three of them were the only ones who were in the observation area, the young man noted.  

"Anarchists – the very people who had kidnapped me almost two years ago – had taken something that I... Could not afford to lose. Connor used Corbin to find who had the Object in question, taken it back from said anarchist and took it to where I was – as another of their group had nearly managed to kill me." Haytham responded, voice firm, catching both of their's full attention. His boss gasped in shock and horror, and the younger man shivered, wincing in pain at the awful memories associated with that day – as his beloved had very nearly died that day.  

"I... I see. But who is this Connor you are referring to, sir?" His boss asked, frowning a little in confusion.  

Connor cleared his throat a little, scuffing one of his feet against the floor, answering uncertainly "Ratonhnhaké:ton is my middle name. My first name is Connor."  

"And Hill is his mother's maiden name – which is the one on his Birth certificate." Haytham responded, bright blue eyes dancing with mischief. The young man realized moments before it happened what was about to – and couldn't help but blush a little – knowing that it would probably be easiest to get out of the trouble that he'd been increasingly under by his boss if this particular revelation was given now.  

"But Hill is not my only last name. Rake:niiii we agreed that you wouldn't interfere with thing while I was working." Connor responded plaintively, unable to stop himself from pouting at the other, drawing out the second syllable of what he was calling Haytham at the moment to show his displeasure.  

"Ah, but if I did not, your boss may have had you dragged away, as she thinks that you might be an anarchist, sent to try to ferret out the secrets of this facility, son." The older Kenway responded, voice light, but eyes serious and worried, showing just how serious the situation really was.  

"And why the... There is no way in the coldest depths of hell that I would ever support anyone who wants to hurt you, father." Connor nearly growled, finding himself moving closer to his father, taking the other's hands in his own. "All... All I see is you. I love you, and I care for you, rake:ni. There's nothing that I wouldn't do to try to protect you... To make you happy."  

"I know that, Connor. And I love you too." Haytham responded, gently squeezing his hands back, pulling him in for a hug, murmuring quietly "I've missed you."  

"Missed you too, rake:ni. You were gone for too long." Connor answered unhappily, hugging his father tightly, relaxing into his beloved's touch.  

"I... Ah... I'll leave the two of you to reconnect. I wouldn't want to... Erm. Intrude on this familial moment." His boss managed out, rushing off – the door on the far end of the hallway clicking shut as the both of them could distantly hear her hiss "Shoo, the lot of you!" And the sounds of confusion from Connor's research team – all of whom wanted to understand what was going on with something.  

There were cameras recording everything that happened in the observation room – which was why Connor murmured quietly into his father's shoulder "Want to kiss you, but not here."  

"I'll speak with your boss, see if I can't convince her to let you have the last couple of hours of work off, as I've only just arrived in the city. My phone died on the plane ride over here, and I was unable to charge it since." Haytham responded quietly. "When your boss's report came in, stating that there was a possible anarchist who had infiltrated this facility yesterday I... I arranged for a flight as soon as I could to investigate as I... I was worried for your safety – as well as the safety of your coworkers and the behavioral research that was going on here."  

"I... I just wasn't sure how to tell them about... 'Bout the second sight and I wanted to talk to you about what I should tell them first and I don’t know how I was able to bond to Corbin – or why the bond is there in the first place... Just that it is." Connor responded quickly "And... I don't want special treatment although I... I really, really want to head back home with you."  

Haytham sighed a little before answering "I understand – we'll speak about second sight later. And, though I would rather not admit to it, there are several things that I should do, and they will take me several hours to complete. See you home, after you get off of work? I will be working at home, finishing those things up."  

"Alright." Connor responded, nodding a little as he slowly let go of his father. "I love you."  

"And I... I love you too, Connor." Haytham responded, releasing his beloved and the two of them went their separate ways.  

#conhayth fic #my fic #ceoXvet au

[agape-l0ve]

hello i am back lol

I think the last few times I wrote out a blog was when jj was deployed.  tumblr was a really helpful tool for me at that time because it allowed me to be completely vulnerable without having to burden anyone else!

I was looking back at my old posts and it’s so interesting to read where I was back then and to see the progression of how much life changes in such short bursts of time! So here’s just an update for my future self -- warning, it’s not very exciting hahaha

So, since jj returned in dec 2018, it’s honestly been great! We saw 2019 and 2020 as a time to catch up on all the lost time we had in the previous years.  No more exercises, training, or trips away, life actually went back to normal - which was weird.  I look back and think about how we’ve only been in this lifestyle since 2016, but so much can happen within a span of 4-5 years.  I’ve finally graduated from CFCC’s OTA program, which was honestly such a blessing because our class was able to complete our requirements before COVID got really bad.  Well, I should say most of our class.  As of right now, I think only one more person is finishing up their FW II, which is crazy because these days, I find myself thinking about how I was just finishing up HH and transitioning into peds outpatient in FW II exactly one year ago.  

I’ll talk a bit about my FW II experiences.. since they were not the greatest lol.

Home health was really interesting.  I was honestly DREADING it because 1, I don’t like spending long amounts of time in the car and 2, I hate being in the car with just one other person - especially someone I don’t feel100% comfortable with. Also, I wasn’t too fond of the idea of going to people’s homes either.  I think this placement really stretched me and pushed me out of my comfort zone in every aspect.  Looking back now, I genuinely enjoyed the experience for what it was! Would I voluntarily do it again? It depends! (which is a step up from a solid no) 

Our area covered the extremely rural areas of our surrounding counties and it definitely served as a huge culture shock.  But everyone was so sweet and grateful for any help they could get and I will always remember some of the most awesome patients I got to meet.  The negative effects of this rotation mostly came from my supervisor.  She was an awful human being, but thankfully, she was at least a good OTR.  However, that being said, I saw ZERO treatments! Even when I tried to tell my professor, NO ONE LISTENED OR BELIEVED ME.  It was extremely frustrating because I had all of these assignments to do and all of them were about mf interventions.  Anyways, my OTR was untimely, rude, unapologetic, and lacked empathy out of her ass.  I was so ready to be done with her and thankfully, she didn’t ruin HH as an option for me - just wasted my time with her.  If someone could win an award for the amount of countless hours they could talk about themselves, it would be her.  9 hours every day, non-stop, talking about herself and how great she is and her bf. omfg JUST GET ME OUT OF THE CAR

FW II was supposed to be really exciting for me.  I was done with HH and moving onto what I cared about the most and what I really felt passionate about.  Helping children in clinic! It was honestly my dream.  It was a multi-disciplinary site with SLP, PT, and OT. Everyone seemed nice and it just so happens that my OTR at this placement was a former Marine and he and I had a lot in common paper.  Boy, was I in for it.  He turned out to be an extremely narcissistic man who thought the world of only himself.  He shit talked EVERYONE behind their backs, but was extremely fake to their face.  Him and the front office administrator would gossip every moment they got, like they were 13 year old bullies.  He suffered from several TBIs when he was enlisted, so it’s safe to say that his temperament issues and memory loss were definitely a result of those.  But the worst part is, he refused to admit it.  He would shit talk the boss, the PR manager, the PTs, the clients, and just about everyone in between.  And he brought 100% of his personal life into this, which I get if we’re co-workers, that’s fine.  But as your student, I don’t need to know about that kind of crap.  On top of that, I was his first FW II student... lol of course I was.  So he knew nothing about how to help me, guide me, or teach me. Instead of looking at the informational packed my professor handed to him, he puts that in the closet the entire 9 weeks I’m with him and proceeds to continuously throw me under the bus when it came to doing my assignments and treating patients.  Mind you, I didn’t get to treat anyone in HH, so this is now my first real opportunity to start treating patients throughout the entirety of my program.  Safe to say, I was nervous.  But I pulled through and did my best and I forced myself to become really confident really quickly.  I was awesome at it and I was honestly very proud of the practitioner I was striving to be.  He did help me from time to time and I’d like to believe there were moments where he was genuine and tried his best to help me.  But none of those times outweigh the flustercluck that was that clinic.  Anyways, I came out pretty salty about the whole thing, but I didn’t let it ruin my passion for helping children, as that is what I aspire to do in the future.  I made strides with kids my OTR wasn’t able to connect with for months.  And instead of encouraging me and allowing me to fulfill my duty as a student, he re-books them with another therapist and anyone in healthcare knows how that detrimental that process is to their progression and tells me that he’s just trying to be nice and share his case-load with other people.  No, you’re purposefully taking them away from me because you can’t stand the thought of someone being better than you at something.  His pride and arrogance will forever taint my experience there and I have no intention of going back - which is a true shame because I absolutely fell in love with the kids and some of the other therapists there.  Oh well, good riddance to both my HH OTR and my peds OTR.

Luckily through it all, COVID was just beginning and it only delayed my graduation process a few weeks.  I was extremely fortunate to be one of the first few in my class to finish up and start studying for my NNCOT exam!

Studying for my exam was a time and a half.  I honestly had -0% confidence in myself to pass this test.  I knew it was coming, I knew I had to eventually take it.. but time just snuck up on me so quickly and before I realized, it was my time.  I studied for about 3 months, graduating in June and taking my exam in Sept.  I took a short break immediately following graduation and then read an entire 3,000 page textbook, took over 300 pages of notes, and took practice tests and listened to podcasts/watched youtube videos.  It was a lot of information but it was honestly so rewarding to think about how much knowledge I’ve truly gained from these past few years.  Fast forward, Sept 23, 2020 was the day I took my test and it was great! A lot less structured of a process than they make it sound and I was able to complete my exam in about 2 hours and passed a few weeks later! I got my license and everything was great!

For whatever reason, during this time, I felt in my heart that it was time to get another dog.  This topic kept coming up un-provoked in EVERY single conversation we had with others and it just felt right.  Being home now, I was able to spend every day with Teddy, rather than taking him to daycare.  Because of the uncertainties of COVID at the time, I didn’t feel comfortable taking him in, nor did I want to drive if I didn’t have to.  Teddy became extremely depressed, always sleeping in the closet or between the toilet and wall, which are places he goes only when he’s hurt or sick.  I would try to play with him and take him out, but he had lost all motivation to do anything.  It hurt my heart that I couldn’t give him what he wanted or what he needed.  So, after a lot of thought and research, Chester came into our lives! Teddy’s breeder had JUST had a litter of puppies (on the same day I took my exam!) and I figured it was a good time to raise another puppy, since I have the time and no outstanding commitments right now.  We picked him up in Nov, right before Thanksgiving and jj’s brother was in town to help us.  It was a looooong day, 5 hours there and 5 hours back.  I think we got home around 2am, but since then, my life has just been on hold while I raise Chester.

Teddy was not happy at first.  I could tell he was confused and upset that another dog was here.  But over time, they have become much closer and share experiences that has helped him become a better brother.  Chester is a lot of work lol but he’s brought so much joy to all of us and I love him so much.  He’s currently 5 months, losing all his baby teeth, and getting into everything and Teddy has been enjoying the company (in moderation lol).

In regards to our life, we were really hoping to PCS back home summer of 2020, but it didn’t happen.  It was pretty disappointing because we’ve been on the east coast the whole time we’ve been active duty.  A lot of our friends moved either back to their hometowns or to the west coast and it felt really unjustified that we were stuck here, but even so, we are making the most of it.  We would have had to move through COVID and we wouldn’t have gotten Chester, so those are definitely some benefits of staying put.  Since we’re here for a bit, we’ve decided to purchase a house! Our friends down the street are selling theirs and we figured it’d be a good financial idea to start allocating our rent into a cheaper mortgage.  It has a double yard and it’s a bit newer than our current rental.  So we are hoping to move around June! I’m excited, it’s kind of a fresh new start without having to be too big of a move for now.  

Mentally, I’ve been fluctuating.  I have a lot of self-inflicted guilt from not working at the moment.  And yes, I agreed to get Chester and it’s a full-time job to watch him and not have to crate him all day.  I want him to enjoy his puppyhood and I want to be here with him as well, so I do cherish these moments that I can have with both him and Teddy.  However, I just feel like it’s the right thing to do or it’s what I’m supposed to do. I graduate and then I work! But being here, it’s just not the path for me.  Besides, I keep reminding myself that there are no job openings in my immediate area right now anyways.  So for now, I’m just spending my days with the pups and working on keeping the house clean, which does bring me a lot of joy.  I need to learn to enjoy life and not worry about what I’m not doing.  To help myself, I signed up for transcription services again, so hopefully that’ll bring in some money and take up some time.  I think it’s the need to feel productive and I haven’t had that in a while.  But with COVID, I’m sure that’s a very popular feeling.  

I think that’s about it for now, that’s what’s been going with me the past few years! I can’t wait to read this in 2 years and hopefully, I won’t be in the same place lol

byee

#sarah's ramblings