#between work school and studying for the mcat i am just so stressed out

[deanisbisexual]

i am so terrified of putting myself in six figures of medical school debt only to find out that i’m fucking miserable as a doctor

#do not reblog this #i just want to vent #i'm honestly researching getting a masters in social work because i am so scared that i'm lowkey thinking about not pursuing medicine #and that makes me so fucking sad because i've wanted to be a doctor since i was 14 #but my depression/anxiety has been so bad since my dad and i got covid last year that i am so desperate to just be happy and i know medical #school is only gonna make it worse #between work school and studying for the mcat i am just so stressed out #i'm so paranoid i'm gonna get covid again because my clinic has us doing covid testing in office instead of drive thru testing because $$$$ #im struggling to concentrate without my adhd meds but i can't see a psychiatrist or a doctor because i don't have insurance #and im not gonna get insurance through my job because i have to go part time so i have more time to study for the mcat #and im just in a stupid fucking catch-22 situation and i can't get out of it #also if you're reading this and haven't gotten vaccinated please go get vaccinated

[alt-rose]

take a break | colson baker

colson baker imagine

take a break - you’re studying for the MCAT, and he reminds you of the importance of selfcare.

warnings: none? language? school stress? 

it wasn’t unusual for Colson’s living room to be a mess. from all the ragers that he’s thrown to the guys’ weekly get together, the living room was bound to be trashed. empty bottles and glasses usually littered every surface with rolling papers and ash spread thoroughly in between.

however, the mess that currently inhabited the living room was not Colson or the guys’ doing. it was yours. you had taken over the living room, claiming it as your study zone.

you were currently studying for the MCAT, which you were taking in a few weeks. Colson had been so supportive when you decided to visit him during the important time in your academic career, and you were only asking for a few hours a day to yourself so that you could study for your upcoming test. you promised that you would spend the rest of your time with him since you were spending your spring break camped out at his place and would eventually need to head back to school.

he was so proud of you, and he was incredibly impressed with your work ethic. applying to medical school was not an easy feat, and you had worked your ass off to get to where you are today, which is something that he could relate to.

so, Colson let you trash his living room. he had banished the guys from his house for the duration of your break (or at least, kept them out of your study zone), and he even cleared out when you had planned to study, usually spending his time in the studio working on his next album.

when he was gone, you spent your day drowning in study guides and practice tests. your papers were sprawled out on the living room floor as you used the coffee table as your desk. you had pens and highlighters buried within the mess. you had your textbooks cracked open to whatever page that you had frantically flipped to when you couldn’t remember something. mugs with day-old coffee and empty fruit snack pouches were abandoned on the end tables by the couch.

it was safe to say that you absolutely destroyed his living room.

--

             “I’m going to head to the studio for a few hours.”

peering up from your place on the floor, you watched as Colson zipped up his jacket and shoved his wallet and keys into his pockets.

             “text me if you need anything?” he suggested before making his way over to you, leaning down to plant a kiss on the top of your head.

             “sure,” you murmur before pulling him down to kiss his cheek.

             “don’t study too hard,” he joked, earning a stressed laugh from you.

the both of you knew that asking you not to study hard was like asking you not to breathe. both are necessary for your survival.

after he left, you decided to use the silence to your advantage, and you began to take another practice exam. that exam then turned into taking another exam when you didn’t score as well as you had hoped, and then you were spiraling.

you scoured your study guides and notes to review the material you had missed. your eyes were burning from the strain, and your head was beginning to pound. you were digging yourself a hole in your insecurities. you had broken down into tears twice now from the stress. you were dizzy and nauseous from forgetting to eat; not that you really had the stomach for it right now anyway. you don’t even remember the last time you got up to use the bathroom.

when Colson came home after 9 hours at the studio, he found you in the same position that you were in when he left. you were hunched over your books. your blue light glasses had slid down your nose, and your hair was a mess. leaving you to finish whatever you were working on, he made his way to the kitchen to clean up whatever mess that you had left him, only to find that there were no dishes in the sink. the kitchen hadn’t been touched since that morning.

             “hey,” he began as he made his way back to the living room. “did you eat anything today?”

you only hummed a response as you flipped through one of your notebooks, completely ignoring him. finding what you were looking for, you jotted a note down on one of your study guides.

             “hey,” Colson tried to get your attention once more as he took a seat on the floor across the table from you. he watched your eyes flick up to him briefly before they directed their attention back to the work in front of you. “dude.”

             “Col, give me a minute to finish this up, and I’ll talk to you then,” you snap at him as you take a few more notes.

Colson let out a sigh as he watched you go back and forth from your notebook to your textbook. he chose to sit and scroll through twitter while he waited for you to finish, but after 20 minutes had passed, he knew that you weren’t going to stop anytime soon.

             “jesus,” he muttered to himself as he put his phone down on top of some of your papers on the table. “have you taken a break at all today? have you eaten? looked out a window?”

you scoffed at him.

             “I don’t have time for breaks, Colson,” you said coldly. “I have to study because I have to take this test in a few weeks – a test, might I add, that will define my future – and I am not even remotely prepared for it. my practice scores are decreasing. I can’t remember any of this material. my notes are shit. and, I am going to fucking fail, which means I am not going to get into medical school, and all of my years of working my ass off in school will mean absolutely nothing. I cannot just take a break when I have everything at stake here.”

you both took a beat. you were taken aback by your sudden outburst. yeah, you meant every word of it, but you hadn’t meant for it to come out so harshly. and, you definitely didn’t mean to snap at Colson, who had been so supportive of your goals from the beginning. he was kind of shocked by your snappy attitude.

             “I understand,” he broke the silence. “I understand that you are really stressed, and I know that you have a lot of pressure on you. I just want to help, and I think taking an hour to eat and do something other than tear apart your notes would help.” he gently placed his hand on top of yours. “it’s late. I’m tired. you have to be tired. let’s call it a night. I’ll make you something to eat, and then you can turn your brain off for a few hours. killing yourself over this work won’t improve your scores-”

             “Colson,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away from him. “I just need to review a bit more.”

             “no,” he said sternly. “you need to rest. self-care and all that shit is just as important as studying.” he stood up from his spot on the floor, now towering over you. “come on, get up.” you gave him an annoyed look, practically telling him to F off. “no, come on, don’t give that shit. get up.”

he moved to your side of the table, and he pulled you up from the floor, despite your protests. to keep you from running back to your work, he threw you over his shoulder, and you yelped from surprise.

             “put me down,” you whine, pounding your fists on his back. “you’re being a jerk.”

Colson carried you up the stairs toward his bedroom before finally setting you down in his ensuite. you landed on your feet quite ungracefully, only for Colson to pick you back up to place you on the counter. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. you glared while Colson silently challenged you to make a run for it.

he raised an eyebrow at you once he was sure you would stay before turning to the bathtub. he turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before stopping the drain.

when he finally turned back to you, he found you slumped over with your eyes fixated on the floor, as if you were trying to micro nap while you waited. he suddenly felt less confident in leaving you to take a relaxing bath alone while he fixed you up something to eat, now knowing that you were on the verge of sleep.

gently placing a hand on your cheek, he moved to hold you close while the tub began to fill. he rested his chin on the top of your head while you tucked yourself into his chest.

             “was gonna leave you to take a bath, but I don’t want to leave you to drown in the tub if you’re going to fall asleep on me,” he murmured into your hair.

you let out a tired (and slightly loopy) laugh.

             “you might have to join me,” you murmur into his shoulder.

             “okay.”

with that, he moved to pull out two towels and dropped some fancy bath salts into the tub before finally moving to help you off the counter. he helped you slip out of your clothes before moving to undress himself, and then the two of you climbed into the tub together.

you sat with your back resting against his chest, and your head was resting against his shoulder. he let you close your eyes for a few minutes, allowing you to take a small nap. while you laid against him with your eyes closed, he gently ran a soapy washcloth against your skin to wipe away the fact that you hadn’t showered in at least two days.

             “still with me?” Colson hummed lightly.

you nodded against his chest.

             “do you want me to wash your hair?”

             “yes, please.”

Colson’s heart melted at how small your voice sounded. wordlessly, he gently moved you forward so that he could rinse and wash your hair with the detachable showerhead. you rested between his knees while he ran his hands through your hair. you were seconds from falling asleep, his motions slowly luring you to sleep. once he was finished with you, he let you rest your head against his propped-up knee while he quickly rinsed and washed himself.

he watched you carefully as he moved to unplug the drain and to hang up the showerhead before gently running a hand over your cheek. you opened your eyes at his touch.

             “ready to get out?” he asked softly, only receiving a sleepy nod from you.

he got out first, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist before holding your towel out for you. you stepped into the towel and let him wrap you up. after taking a minute to dry off, Colson grabbed the robe he got for you the last time you came to visit, and he wrapped it around you after taking your towel to expertly wrap your wet hair up in it.

you sat on the bathroom counter, slowly doing your skin care routine while he took a moment to dry himself off and put on a pair of boxers.

“you okay if I go fix you up something to eat?” Colson asked from the doorway, watching you apply your moisturizer.

“I’m okay,” you give him a small smile. “thanks, Cols.”

once you were finished, you dragged yourself to his bed, still wrapped in your robe with no motivation to put your pajamas on. you curled up against the pillows, letting yourself rest your eyes for a moment, while you waited for Colson.

             “I made you a sandwich.”

you opened your eyes to find Colson kneeling on the bed next to you with a plate in his hand. you move to sit up to let him lean against the pillows next to you.

             “you’re a saint,” you laugh lightly as you lean into his side.

             “hardly a saint,” he laughed back at you as he handed you half of your sandwich while he grabbed half of his.

             “a god?” you suggest taking the sandwich from him.

             “maybe.” he raised his slice to you. “cheers.”

             “cheers,” you laugh as you bump your sandwich against his. you took a moment to take your first bite. “oooo,” you call to him covering you mouth as you finish your bite. “you’re an angel. that’s what you are?”

             “alright, you noob, knock it off,” he smiled at you. “if anyone’s an angel here, it’s you.”

             “yeah, yeah, okay, you sap,” you nod back him before taking a bite.

the two of you let a comfortable silence fall over you as you finished your sandwiches. once you were both finished, Colson placed the plate on his nightstand before turning his attention back to you, only to find you already tucked under the covers. following you, he slipped under the covers before situating himself comfortably on his pillows. he pulled you into his chest, and you rested your head on his chest.

             “thank you,” you murmur.

             “for what?” he lightly stroked your damp hair.

             “you always take care of me. I love you for that.”

             “I’ll always take care of my girl.”

you lightly ran a hand up his arm, tracing his tattoos.

             “you’re going to be a great doctor one day-”

             “Cols,” you sigh with a defeated feeling sinking into your chest.

             “I mean it,” he told you. “you’re so smart, and I know this is a really stressful time for you, and it’s really difficult for you, but I know you’re going to do great on your test. you’ve been studying nonstop for weeks. you know you’re prepared, and I know it may not feel like it because you’ve been taking so many practice tests and stuff, but I think a break would do you some good. you need a fresh start. get out of your head for a bit, you know? take a day to get out and have fun, and then you can go back to studying for the rest of the break.”

             “Cols.”

             “spend the day with me tomorrow. we can go to the beach, or we can go hiking, or shopping, or anything you want to do. let me get you out of this house.”

you let out a sigh, taking a moment to think. he wasn’t wrong. you needed to get out, and you needed a break.

             “okay,” you sigh into his chest.

             “good,” he smiled to himself as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. “now sleep.”

             “don’t have to tell me twice,” you laugh lightly before nuzzling yourself into his chest so that you weren’t putting any strain on your neck. he reached a hand up and turned off the lamp, and darkness fell on both of you. “hey Cols?”

             “hmmm?”

             “I love you.”

             “I love you too, (Y/N/N).”

.

.

.

hope you enjoyed! i took a break from some schoolwork to finish this piece. college is hard, my dudes. feel free to send requests! - rose xx

#colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker imagines #colson baker x reader #machine gun kelly imagines #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader

[florenceandthemachine]

broken Tumblr asks part ??: in which I think I figured out that adding a read more into the asks are what breaks them.

anonymous asked:

the team makes Buck cry. send tweet.

hi anon I really am sorry if you were hoping for some hurt / comfort bc uh. this is just the hurt. xoxox

also my love, thanks, and eternal devotion to @buckleydiazs for giving it a quick beta 💖

Buck was on cloud fucking nine.

For a year—an entire year—he had been stuck in the doctors office, twice a month, while they ran test after test after his… multiple accidents. Blood tests, lung tests, flexibility tests, he had been poked like a pincushion and stretched like a rubber band, he had been through physical therapy, occupational therapy, and just regular therapy (hell, he was still in regular therapy), and now finally, finally, he was finished. 

“So, you don’t show any signs of abnormal clotting and your risk for a second pulmonary embolism is low. As far as your ankle goes, but you’ve regained full mobility, and as much as I wish I could take all the credit for that, I know you’ve been working your ass off in therapy. Congratulations, Mr. Buckley.”

He was cleared. Fully out of the woods. Clean bill of health. 

Finally, finally, after a year of hell, he could put everything—his crushed leg, his bleeding lungs, his stupid lawsuit—behind him. Finally, he could breathe easy, easier than he had in a year, and the only thing he wanted to do in the entire world was share the news with his family. 

Normally, Maddie would have been first, but he always felt bad about tying up a dispatcher when he called her at work. Her shift ended in an hour or so, though—like his normally would have, if he didn’t have his schedule switched during doctor days.

Well, if he can’t tell his sister, he can still tell his family. 

“Hey, Chim!”

Buck is all smiles as locks his Jeep, his medical release in hand, jogging easily to catch up to Chim’s retreating backside. Buck grinned as Chim turned around, raising his brow. “Hey, do you and Hen have a second? I wanted to show you both my—“

“Oooh, sorry, no can do Buckeroo. Hen’s taking her MCAT’s in two days, I have every second of her free time booked solid with studying.”

Buck faltered a little bit as they walked, raising his brow. While he really was proud of Chim for doing a full 180 so quickly—going from feeling betrayed to supporting a friend was no easy feat, and Buck knew that as well as anyone, but he also knew that a full day of studying wouldn’t do any good. 

“Come on, Chim, I’m sure she can take a break to—“

“Noooo, Buck.”

“Chim.”

“Buck, seriously. She’s been working too hard for this, and I’m not having you break up her flow. This is important to her, you get that right?”

Of course Buck got it, but…

“I’m not going to let anyone ruin this for her.”

….ruin it? He just wanted to share some good news.

He understood that Hen had to study, and that her upcoming MCATS were really important to her, but this was important to Buck; and for Chim to jump straight to that degree made his heart sink a little bit with each beat, his head traitorously whispering to him ‘what if Chim is right?’. Hen had been one of his biggest supporters as he got off of blood thinners, as he started back into his various therapies, and he had thought he returned the favor, helping her study in his free time whenever he could, and helping her take her mind off of things when she needed to as well—maybe his distractions were more harm than good, but he knew Hen well enough to know that if no one pulled her away from her work, she just wouldn’t eat, sleep, go home, any of it. Was it really that bad that Buck wanted a minute?

He felt his smile start to slip so he hitched it back up, nodding his head. “Yeah, sure, I… okay, just hit me up when you’re all done, I guess?” He said, hoping his voice sounded more confident than he felt. It must have worked, because Chim clapped both of his arms and turned away, leaving Buck standing there for a moment before he shook himself out of it.

It was fine. Hen wanted to study, that was important. Buck tried to pump himself back up as he took the stairs to the loft two at a time, reveling in the simple act of fully rolling his ankle. He tilted his head as he heard Bobby’s voice spill out of his office, turning on his heel to his next target. Besides, Bobby sounded frustrated—some good news would do him good, or so Buck thought. 

“…no, I don’t—no, we can’t just take—wait, what? No, I will not hold!”

Buck almost laughed as he knocked on the Cap’s open door, smiling when Bobby waved him inside.

“Look, forgive me if I’m not entirely sympathetic, but when we’re down an engine, and you can’t tell us when repairs will be done—well then you’d better transfer me to someone who can!”

“Everything alright, Cap?” Buck couldn’t help but smile as Bobby strangled his phone, sighing in defeat when the plastic wouldn’t yield. 

“You know, Marty was a crook in the end, but damn, he was a good mechanic. What’s up, Buck?”

Buck winced at the reminder of the nearly would-be heist, humming thoughtfully as he waved his full release forms. “Well, this shouldn’t take long. I got back from the doctors today, and—“

Bobby’s groan cut him off, hanging his head in his free hand. “No, Buck, no. I can’t have you sick right now, and nothing good ever follows ‘doctor’.”

Buck laughed, but Bobby kept going, the stress of the day and being down an engine clearly getting to him as he continued on. “And the last time I heard “doctor” from you, it was followed by lawsuit, which—yes, I’m still holding, hello?”

Lawsuit?

What the fuck? 

Buck reeled back like he had been slapped, the smile frozen on his face even with Bobby’s clear dismissal. He was glad that he didn’t have to say anything else, at the very least, because his throat felt hot and tight and it was all he could do to stay steady as he pivoted on his heel, walking out of the office. 

He hated the fact that that was the first thing Bobby brought up, but he hated even more how much that dark cloud was still lingering over his head. If Bobby would be so candid when Buck was barely two words in to saying something, who’s to say what choice words he had about Buck when he was gone? 

The lawsuit was the worst part of his life, the biggest mistake he had made, and he couldn’t wrap his head around it being thrown in his face when he was ready to walk in and share what was the best news he had ever received. Is that… all he would have here, all he would have been able to look forward to?

He started back down the stairs, his legs acting independently of the rest of his body, a dull tingling spreading through his chest as he finally sat down. He didn’t know if there was a happy medium between cold and numb (‘shock’, his mind provided, ‘you’re in shock’), but whatever it was, he was deep into it.

God, he had honestly thought that was all behind him. How fucking stupid was he to think that he was going to be able to come back from a mistake that huge, even a year later?

“Buck?”

He could feel himself starting to panic—loathe as he was to admit it—but as per usual, Eddie was a step ahead of the game without even knowing it. Even now, just hearing Eddie take a few steps closer to him started to ease his heartbeat, and he swallowed a few times as he nodded, fighting off the headrush as he was able to breathe again.

“Hey, Buck, you good?”

“Hey, Eddie, uh…hey!” Buck stood up and wiped his hands on his pants, paperwork forgotten next to him as he tried to smile. If anything, he knew—he knew to his very core, he knew, he… he prayed Eddie would be able to share this little victory with him. “Eds, you have a second to talk?“

Buck almost swallowed his tongue as the alarm sounded through the station, his jaw clicking shut as footsteps started to come down the stairs. 

“Hey, we’ll talk later, yeah?” Eddie called, already heading to his locker. It was all Buck could do to hold it together, nodding his head as he waved them off, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when the ladder pulled out of the station.

--

Eddie may have had a good start on his day, but Buck did not. 

He had woken up, kissed Christopher goodbye as Carla brought him to school, and less than ten minutes later, he had a brown envelope in hand, with a curt “You’ve been served”.

Shannon’s will was being contested. The will that Eddie didn’t even know she had. By her father, who Eddie had only seen twice in several years of marriage. 

The will was simple enough—a few grand left to Christopher’s college fund, a small pair of earrings to her sister, and that was it. There was nothing to contest, in Eddie’s mind, but contested it was.

He looked over the paperwork twice, and it made less sense the second time around—as much as he hated to admit it, the worst part of it all was knowing that Eddie was going to be alone at work again, because Buck had another day off scheduled in the books. 

So yeah, he may have been a little grumpy as he threw a few weights around in the work room for the start of his shift.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Eddie was spiraling; he couldn’t understand how someone could be so bitter, so selfish, to try and stop a few thousand dollars from going into a college fund for their grandchild. His mood only soured as his shift went on, there were no distractions, no calls, nothing to help him pull his head out of his ass, and no one he could talk to. Chim had almost bitten his head off when he said hello to Hen that morning, Bobby was dealing with yet another broken down, tax funded nightmare, and Buck—

And Buck was here. 

“Buck?”

Eddie did an honest to god double take as he saw Buck sitting on the bench, like he had been summoned from the depths of Eddie’s mind, even though he looked like he was in a state of shock.

“Hey, Buck, you good?”

He couldn’t lie, it made his heart skip a beat when Buck smiled at him—even if he could tell that Buck’s heart wasn’t in it. 

Before he could say anything more, the alarm sounded through the house, and Eddie was about a step away from fully losing his mind. “Hey, we’ll talk later, yeah?” He said, trying to give a small smile as he started to double back to his locker.

The call, to put it mildly, had not gone well—any fire call where the main focus wasn’t the fire was bound to be troublesome. A ten year old had started a fire in a laundry room, which should have been simple enough, except it was the same laundry room that he and his brother had apparently been locked up on for months. 

Suddenly what started out as a fire call turned into fire, medics, and police, and Eddie felt his hands start to shake as he worked with Hen to revive a ten year old boy. Barely older than Christopher. It wasn’t the first time he had seen abuse face to face, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last, but something about it was working him up more than usual. He was glad his shift was almost over—the only thing he wanted to do was go home, hug his kid, and sleep.

“—ooh, Mads, they’re back, gotta go. Hey, Eddie!”

He knew he was in deep when not even hearing Buck’s voice could brighten his mood—it was all he could do to hitch a half-hearted smile onto his face as he stepped off of the spare rig.

“Good call, right? Maddie said it sounded like everyone should pull through.”

Eddie just felt himself wind up tighter as he shook his head, rolling his jaw to force himself to keep it loose. “No, Buck. It was not a good call. It was a very bad call.” Bad didn’t even begin to cover it. Eddie could still feel his heart in his throat, feel a tiny body in his arms as Hen started compressions.

He was too wrapped in his own world to notice Buck falter, clearly thrown in the conversation. “Well, hey, if you’ve got a second—“

“Come on Buck, give it a break. I just want to get the fuck out of here as soon as I can.”

Pulling his boots off, he tossed them with perhaps a bit more force than needed into his locker, missing the way that Buck’s face shuttered. “You too, huh?”

“‘You too’? The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Eddie, I just wanted to share some good news, and—“

“Well things aren’t just good or bad, Buck! Just because no one died does not make a good call, and just because things are bad right now doesn’t mean I have to be cheered up. I’m allowed to be pissed off. I’m allowed to have one fucking minute!” Eddie snapped, chucking his jacket against the hamper in the corner, jaw clenched so hard he would have been afraid of cracking a tooth if he was in his right state of mind.

“So please, tell me what is so god damned important that I can’t see my kid until you tell me.”

The moment the words left his lips, he knew it was a mistake. The only person that loved Chris as much as Eddie was Buck, and he knew that, saw that more clearly than ever as his white hot anger dulled into something more manageable. He swallowed as he turned around, and… fuck, Buck wasn’t even looking at him.

“…Buck, I—“

--

“Clean bill of health.”

Buck couldn’t bring himself to look up up as he tossed the stack of papers onto the bench, doing his absolute best to keep himself composed as he spoke, his jaw tight and brow furled. 

He had been so proud of himself for avoiding a panic attack while they were on the call. He had never gotten them before this past year, but between the earthquake, tsunami, Maddie’s kidnapping, and bomb, he had become fast friends with the crushing weight. But he had done well��he kept himself above water, so to speak, and when he called Maddie he was proud to say that his voice was almost steady, and prouder still when she congratulated him for his job well done in therapy, demanding he come over and celebrate tonight. 

Well, even if he couldn’t count on his family friends team, he could always count on Maddie. It was a small joy in the world, but right now, it felt like it was all he had.

“Officially back to 100% mobility in my crushed ankle, officially out of the woods for another clot. Did you know it would take me a year to be clear of another embolism, because I refused blood thinners? Well, I figured you might, since you’re been running calls without me, every other week for a year, while I sit in a hospital room.”

Buck finally brought himself up to meet his teammates eye as Eddie’s frustration started to give way to confusion, and that, that hurt more than anything else today. Had anyone even realized why his schedule changed every other week? Did anyone care? “And alright, like you said, it might not be that important to you all but—“

“Buck, you—“

“But it’s really fucking important to me! All I wanted to do was share the good news with the people who are supposed to be family, my team, and instead all I got was blown off, snapped at—Eddie, I mentioned the word doctor in front of Bobby and his first concern was if he had another lawsuit on his hands.”

Buck was mildly aware that he was shaking—he had never really handled stress like this well—but the bigger concern was the tightening in his throat, that sinking pressure he felt right beneath his lungs. He could handle a lot of things, but that didn’t mean he could handle crying in front of Eddie quite yet.

“It’s been a year, Eddie, and I thought things were getting better, so what gives? What did I do, what have I done to deserve being treated like this? I’m serious, please, tell me, so I can fix it!”

Buck’s voice was reaching a fevered pitch as he gestured around the locker room, feeling himself splinter as he begged, literally begged, to know what he had done—why his work had meant nothing. Would he be mortified later? Probably, but everyone had a breaking point, and Buck was realizing (belatedly) that he was past his.

“All I wanted to do today was share a victory with my team, at least share it with you, you’re supposed to be my best friend, and I—I don’t get why—“

If Buck could clearly see Eddie’s face, he might have laughed at the pale, slack jawed, panicked expression before him. As it was, though, his eyes were starting to burn, and even as he reached to rub them, his body finally gave up, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Why is everyone being so fucking mean?” 

Buck didn’t bother with another platitude as he pushed past Eddie, rubbing tear tracks off of his cheeks. He felt his face heat up as he stormed out of the firehouse, fumbling for his keys, and heaven help any member of the 118 who stood in his way. 

--

Buck was crying.

The team had made Buck cry.

Fuck, Eddie had made Buck cry. 

He just stood in the locker room as the sound of Buck’s Jeep faded into the distance, feeling his heartbeat throughout his entire body. All Buck wanted to do was share some positivity with the team, and Eddie had… eviscerated him. He bent down to pick up some of the papers Buck had left behind, his heart falling even further (as if that was possible) as he read over the paperwork.

Fuck.

“Hey, Eddie, is Buck in here? Chim said he wanted to talk to—woah, what’s wrong?”

The sweat on Eddie’s skin had cooled (hell, how long had he been standing there?) and guilt sunk heavier into his stomach as Hen walked into the locker room, with Chim trailing behind her. Eddie’s eyes were still glued to the release in his hand, barely noticing as Chim spoke, staring down at his phone. 

“Uhhh… why is Maddie telling me to camp out with one of you tonight?” he asked the room as a whole, sharing a confused glance with Hen before they both locked eyes on Eddie, who… well, who probably looked as bad as he felt.

Which, considering Eddie felt like he was about to cry himself, was saying a lot.

“We fucked up. I fucked up. I think—I think we broke Buck.”

And he had no idea how to fix it. 

#911 #evan buckley #edmundo diaz #buddie #(maybe if you squint) #hurtfic #buck needs a hug #fic #911fic #911 on fox #flospeaks

[feelingfredly]

The Fox Guards the Wolf

Part Three

The Rooster and the Hen House

The dojo was humming with activity, and Ichigo breathed in the familiar scents of sweat, leather mats, and incense, pulling his focus tightly in upon himself, and letting all of his stress melt away.

The first Saturday of every month was for officially refereed matches, and he’d faced three different opponents over the course of the morning, but none of them had beaten him so far. Now he had one more round, and he was done for the day.

He bowed to the referee, and then to his opponent, sending his best friend a challenging smirk.

“Hajime!”  

The two were evenly matched.  They’d been training together for four years, but this was the first chance they’d had to face off against each other recently due to Renji’s crazy study schedule.  Not many of the students at the dojo had as much experience as they did, and it was nice to be able to stretch his skills without being afraid he was going to accidentally hurt someone.

Ichigo raised his hands and lunged, thrusting one leg out and hooking it behind Renji’s foot as he trapped their hands high between their chests.

Grappling was Renji’s bread and butter.  He was taller, and a little heavier, and if he could get a good grip Ichigo would be in trouble. Today Ichigo was faster, though, and getting a good foothold off the bat gave him all the edge he needed.  He twisted, pulling Renji’s body closer, and then threw him over with all his strength, slamming the taller man onto his back.

“Ippon! Soremade.” The referee’s voice cut through the background noise. Match over. Three for three.

The friends stood, faced each other, and bowed again.

“Shit, Kurosaki,” Renji said, once they cleared the mat, “You were really in the zone today. I haven’t seen you move that fast since Inoue-san tried to get you to eat her chocolate-wasabi onigiri.”  He laughed but Ichigo remembered that day. He had moved pretty fast.  With Inoue’s food you had to—it was run or die.  “Three ippons in a row! You could have at least given me a chance.  You had me on my back faster than a fūzoku.”

Ichigo shook his head and tried to ignore the trace of red the teasing brought to his face. Renji was shameless.  Luckily, he’d taught Ichigo to give as good as he got.

“Just didn’t want to tease you too much, Abarai.  I know how hot and bothered you get thinking about pinning me like that.  You’d never have been able to spar with a hard-on.”

As freshmen the two had met in the dojo.  Ichigo had taken judo lessons since he turned twelve, and had been expected to keep training by his father, but Renji used judo as an outlet for some of his less socially acceptable impulses. He loved the physicality of it, and said more than once that it was the only thing that kept him from getting kicked out of school. It had only taken a few weeks for the two sparring partners to become friends, and after that first semester they found an apartment close to their classes and moved in together.

They’d fought off and on that first year. Renji went out drinking every weekend and slept through half the undergraduate population—male and female—and didn’t understand why Ichigo spent all his time studying. After a while, though, the newness of freedom wore off and he settled down into a more reasonable routine.  He had an ambitious streak that pushed him, and he strove to be the best in every class, but it never turned him into an asshole. He was still the charming, outgoing goofball he’d been from the beginning, and he only occasionally teased Ichigo about his volumes of Shakespeare by the bathtub, and the medical journals he left on the kitchen counter.

His dad hadn’t been thrilled when he said he wanted to move off campus, but after a few meetings he and Renji had hit it off.  Both Renji’s parents had died when he was small and he’d been raised in foster care, and while Kurosaki Isshin would never admit it, the redhead had become almost a second son. When Renji had been accepted to law school, he was just as proud as he’d been of Ichigo’s MCAT scores, and he’d bragged about them to anyone who would listen.

Hopefully, he’d never realize what his sons had gotten up to over the years.

“You working at the clinic tonight?” Renji asked. “I didn’t check the schedule this morning.”

“Not tonight.” Ichigo said. “I swapped with Yamazaki-san, so he could attend his little sister’s graduation ceremony last week, so I have an unexpected evening off.”

“Hot date?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes.  “Only if you count my laptop.”

Renji snorted.  “Sadly, that might sound better if I knew you had a porn addiction, but no.  You’re going to find some dusty corner and commune with your muse again aren’t you?”

They hit the lockers and Ichigo pulled his clothes out, focusing on getting dressed so he didn’t have to answer.

Renji was more supportive than most about his writing. He agreed that spending a year working on getting his novel finished and finding an agent was important, but he didn’t understand Ichigo’s choice to stop dating until he’d made a final decision about med school. For him, getting laid was a priority—like breathing—and he was convinced Ichigo was crazy to try to deny himself.

It wasn’t like Ichigo had completely given up on sex.  He’d had a few dates where he’d ended up in someone’s bed, but they’d been one night with no strings attached, and he never ended up in the same bed twice.  There just wasn’t enough attraction with any of them to make it worth the effort.

“My muse, as you put it, is better company than anyone I’ve been out with recently.” He tugged his shirt over his head and pulled it down. “Anyway, you know how I feel. Until I get things settled it isn’t fair to ask someone to put up with my shit.  Hell, I don’t want to put up with my shit.”

Renji came around the corner, dress shirt unbuttoned and untucked, and Ichigo sighed.  It wasn’t fair. The man was hot as hell, with his chest tatted up, and his muscles rippling subtly under smooth skin. At one time Ichigo thought he’d found his perfect match, but it wasn’t meant to be. They’d slept together a few times, and the redhead was as enthusiastic a lover as he was a sparring partner, but there was something missing and they both knew it.  

“Don’t sell yourself short, man.” Long fingers made short work of his buttons. “There are lots of people out there who have less of an idea of what they’re doing with their lives than you.  You’ve got a job, you’re writing a novel, you’re smart, you’re good looking,” he looked down at him and grinned, “and you have the hottest roommate in the history of cohabitation.”

Renji cocked his head to one side, looked at something over Ichigo’s shoulder, and stage whispered.  “Someone’s taken notice at least.  Although he seems a little on the shy side.”

Ichigo turned to see what he was talking about.  “What? Who?” All he could see were a few other judo students.

Renji shook his head, and looked a little dismayed.  “Dude was just standing by the door.  I noticed him watching the matches earlier.  Good looking guy.  I guess he saw me watching him, uh, watching, and ducked out.”

Ichigo slid his feet into his shoes and grabbed his bag, the weight of the laptop heavy as he slung it over his shoulder.  

“You sure he was watching me?” He looked at his friend. “Of the two of us, you’re the one who gathers groupies.”

Renji lost his smart-ass grin and shook his head.  “No way.  I gave him a good long look—you know I like the ones that look like they could do a little damage, and this guy looked like he could hold his own—but he didn’t notice me at all.  He was all about you.”

Ichigo felt his heart speed up a little.  “What did he look like?  Kind of tall?  Shoulders? Blond hair?”

Renji shook his head again, but looked questioningly down at him. “No.  Your height. Dark. Black hair, dark eyes, mid-twenties? Moved like a fighter.”

Sounded like another not-Yakuza, but this one had found him. Shit.

He shut his locker door a little too hard and tried to tamp down the disappointment he felt that it hadn’t been the geta wearing man from the day before. It wasn’t like there was any reason to expect to see him again. He hadn’t even told Ichigo his name.  

Even if he had said he’d see him again.

Renji stared at him a minute, and Ichigo could hear the wheels grinding away in his head as he put two and two together and as usual, ended up with five.  “What’s going on, Kurosaki? Are you in some kind of trouble? Is this blond you mentioned giving you grief?”

See? Five.

Still. While Renji could be as over-protective as Isshin, it was hard to mind. One of the things they’d first connected over was a hardcore desire to avoid the local gangs, and it was still a hot-button topic for his roommate. Renji had more than his share of run-ins with tough guys in the foster care system and he’d considered it his job to protect the kids who were weaker or smaller than him, whether it was from lousy foster parents, or predatory thugs looking to recruit cannon fodder for their turf wars.   For a lawyer, it was an excellent skill set. He could usually smell gang members a mile away, and it helped keep him out of trouble.  So, if this guy didn’t set off Renji’s sensors, maybe he wasn’t a bad guy.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

“Something strange happened yesterday at Como’s.  I was getting ready to  head in for my shift at the clinic when these two guys showed up with neon signs over their heads screaming We’re Bad Guys. Before I knew it, I was running a little interference in the middle of some sort of throw-down.  No one got hurt.” He thought about that and changed it. “Well, one of the guys with guns got hurt, but he was kind of asking for it.”

Renji stopped dead in the middle of buckling his belt, his eyebrows halfway to his hairline.  “Guns? Why am I only hearing about this now?  Did you call your old man and tell him?”

This was so not a conversation Ichigo wanted to be having.

“I’m telling you now. I didn’t tell you yesterday because you were balls deep in the flavor of the week when I got home last night and I didn’t feel like ruining the mood.  And no, I didn’t call my dad because there was nothing he could have done about it.  He’s retired.  Anyway, the man who was at the center of the whole thing seemed to have everything well in hand. He was so smooth you’d think that sort of thing happened to him every day.”

Renji made a strangled noise.  “Competence isn’t a good thing in these situations. You have to take this seriously. If you got in the middle of some turf war…”

Ichigo scrubbed his hand over his face. “It wasn’t like that. These guys were more like high-end kidnappers than gangbangers.”

Oddly enough, that didn’t improve things. Renji looked like he was going to have a stroke.  His face was almost as red as his hair.

“Kidnappers.” He glared. “Do you have any idea how crazy this sounds? And you didn’t let your dad, the retired police lieutenant, know? What the fuck, Kurosaki?”

Ichigo ignored the questions and walked out into the dojo with Renji struggling along behind him, still trying to get his shoes on.

“You know how Goat-face gets.  The minute he heard he’d start freaking out and acting like I was fourteen and being brought home from getting my ass kicked, again. I’m twenty-three, Abarai. I have a black belt in judo and a brown belt in karate.  I can handle myself. I don’t need to run to my dad for help every time something happens.”

He didn’t mention that it would terrify his sisters, or that it would throw the entire Kurosaki household into turmoil, forcing his dad to relive the nightmare of his wife’s death.  His father had many skills.  Moving on wasn’t one of them.  

“Kurosaki-san!”

The voice came from one of the younger instructors trying to flag him down as he headed for the exit.

“Someone left this for you at the desk.” Ichigo took the message with a respectful bow and murmured thanks, and continued out the door.

After the dojo the street was oddly quiet, the background buzz dropping to just faint traffic noise, and the two friends stopped and stood against the wall, looking down at the card in Ichigo’s hand.

It was a white card with a small red embossed inkan in the corner, the writing clean and precise, and it was clearly addressed to Kurosaki Ichigo.

“What’s that?” Renji asked, peering over his shoulder. “Love letter from a secret admirer? Maybe he was too shy to stay and ask you out in person. Or maybe it’s a ransom demand from your friendly neighborhood kidnappers. It’s even odds.”

Ichigo made a fed up sound. “Drop it, Abarai. Remember, I know where you sleep.”

Renji waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “As if I could forget. I keep my door open in case you ever want me to comfort you after a bad dream.”

Ichigo stared at his friend. It was like living with an overgrown puppy with ADHD and a sex addiction. How the man managed to survive in law school was a mystery.

Maybe he fucked all his professors.  It would explain a lot.

“Who is Tsukabishi Tessai?” Renji asked, switching his focus back to the note and Ichigo groaned at the mental whiplash. Definitely ADHD.

“I met him yesterday at the coffee house.”

Ichigo thought back and tried to remember all the details about the man that he could.  He was tall, even taller than Renji, with dark skin and tiny braids running along his scalp. The most powerful feeling Ichigo had been left with about him, though, was one of almost preternatural calm.  It was as if nothing short of a bomb going off could unsettle the man.  A good trait for someone faced with armed bad guys, he supposed.

“He was not one of the kidnappers I’m presuming?”

Ichigo sighed but didn’t feed the troll.

He re-read the note wondering if it was some sort of trick, but it hadn’t changed.  “No. He showed up after everything started to go to hell. He was driving, but he didn’t act like any chauffeur I’ve ever heard of.  Instead of freaking out over someone trying to grab his boss, or over the fact that we basically beat the crap out of two guys in the middle of the sidewalk, he just apologized for being late, took their guns and tossed the men into the back seat of his car.”

Renji looked like he wanted to start yelling again, but he restrained himself.  Barely.

“And this is… what? A thank you note? A threat? He wants to make sure you keep your mouth shut and don’t tell the authorities?”

Ichigo shook his head again, and gave up trying to make sense of it all, and handed the card over for Renji to read for himself.

“He’s offering me a job.”

[life-of-khanoor]

July 6, 2021

I never ended up posting my April draft because I had more to say and think about but I just forgot about it because during such a traumatic moment in my life I decided the smart thing to do would be to add more stress to my life even though I never even dealt with the first stress. 

It all came crumbling down. All of it. 

Moral of the story: Take care of your mental health because if your mental health isn’t in order then no matter how much time and energy you pour into everything else - it won’t matter. You need to be okay internally for your external to be okay. 

I don’t know where to start. But I’m going to be more consistent with these journal entries, because I have decided to start therapy. I started therapy that was offered at my school in November of last year, but the therapist was only available every 3 weeks and she agreed my problems needed more consistent time to be dealt with. So in December I stopped any form of therapy. In late March to early April, all the truth came out. All the ugly, hideous truth about my past came out to my significant other at the time. I told him that the person he was feeling so insecure about for the 1st year of our relationship, was not my best friend but actually my ex-boyfriend and someone I had been hooking up with while we were together. This ugly truth only came out after his truth came out which was that he also was indulging in some form of cheating not physical, but through the exchange of pictures. Honestly, I wasn't expecting it at all. Which made me realize, he’s actually a really good liar. This made me start thinking about how I could trust him as he goes into dental school with so many females around him. It was driving me insane. Still does from time to time but I just remember that whatever happens, well, God willed it. 

Anyways, instead of dealing with the issue, I had a more pressuring matter at hand. The MCAT. The bane of my existence came knocking on my door when I could least handle it. But I had to go in head first because if I didn’t take it now, I would not be able to apply to medical school this cycle, and if that didn’t happen I would be wasting another year of my life and I would be a bigger pile of uselessness. My family already thought of me as useless and wasting their money and if I didn’t take the MCAT, apply to medical school, and get in - I would be proving them right. Well, from May to the end of June I began my grind, I was putting in 8-10 hours a day of studying. I was trying by absolute darn hardest to get it all but 2 weeks before my MCAT, the anxiety hit me in the face. I was waking up every morning with anxiety attacks, the day before my MCAT I woke up and had a panic attack and was crying and was not okay. I honestly still don't think I am. I started therapy but I’ve only gone to 1 session and I unloaded so much past grief and trauma like it’s all so much that’s happened. And I’m trying to get back into it but honestly I’m not ready like clearly I’m not I feel so manic. Through this depressive period in my life (which is still happening but to a lesser extent now that I know I’m holding onto something I need to let go of), I can say for a fact that my “boyfriend” has not in  been supportive. If anything, he's made it worse. But thankfully, I met this amazing girl who’s been so supportive even though she has her own issues. I really feel like God send her to me. So if you’re reading this god, thanks for that. 

The MCAT didn’t happen. Day before my MCAT I realized I couldn’t do it, I wasn’t ready - not in terms of my prep and not at all in terms of my mental health. That night the boyfriend that I cheated on, who decided to stay with me because of the “goodness” in his heart, unloaded all his hatred, resentment, and angst toward me. This mixed with my own feelings of failure and uncertainty ended it for me. I could not handle it. I could not do it, I could not. I had all this hate for myself pent up. I tried killing myself. This wasn’t the first time I tried or thought about killing myself in the past month and a half. I wanted to end my life, I can’t handle it anymore. It all hurts so much I feel so lost all the time. I feel so empty. Like the shell of a person. I feel alone. And this person man, this guy just isn’t worth it. You know you spend 2 years of your life with someone, they become so ingrained in you, so intertwined with you and you think this is meant to be because you can’t see it working any other way right? But it’s nothing but pain anymore. It’s just a constant reminder of everything bad. Even if now I’m not that person anymore like it’s not possible to live it down. And he thinks it’s possible. God I fucking feel so suffocated with him. I feel locked up. The whole time he stayed with me during my MCAT prep, he made it feel like he was doing me such a huge favor, and indeed he really was but it was because he wanted to be there, I didn’t ask him to be there for me. I was ready to leave, that was the only option that even seemed in any way viable. It’s not like I do better with him around, if anything this whole relationship has been my lowest productivity. But he insisted on staying, and I regret letting him. For fucks sake I cheated on you not once, not twice but probably 5 times, what makes you think we’re meant for each other. We’re not. We had something good. But I ruined it. We keep trying to hold onto our past relationship, what WAS good. But what’s good right now? What? Is there any good right now? You might think it because I’m pasting this smile onto my face because you’re starting dental school and moving to NYC and I don’t want to be a Negative Nancy. But nothing is good. God fucking nothing. I don’t even ENJOY talking to you anymore. I get anxious because I think you’ll judge me for this or that. I’m walking on eggshells with you. I talk to you and I feel the weight on my shoulders getting heavier and my heart feeling weaker. Just because YOU think you’re there for me, doesn’t mean you’re what I need. I can’t even talk to you honestly. I can’t talk to you and feel like I can’t be 100% myself. I feel so scared to even say things anymore so I don’t say them. God you’re not my boyfriend, I don’t even think I’d consider you a friend. There’s no love here. There was. But there isn’t anymore. I listen to our songs and feel nothing. I look at our pictures and I feel sad. There’s nothing between us anymore. You're just hurting me more and more and more. And now I’m here every other day contemplating suicide, like what do you want from me damnit what do you want? It feels like you just wanna suck me dry until there's nothing left. Something with such a bad bad history, could never be something good. Not now anyways. Not after such a fresh deep wound. I need to heal and he does too. We're not together because we love each other lol, we’re together because we’re comfortable here. It’s familiar. But he's about to start the rest of his career in a different city and I need to start the rest of my life without my past weighing me down. So it’s over. 

Ending this relationship is probably going to be the best thing I’ve done for myself in a really really really long time. I can already feel the weight being lifted off my shoulders. Maybe all the praying in the middle of the night, waking up with panic attacks, imagining myself dead, maybe this is what it all came down to. Maybe I needed to rid myself of this before I could move onto greater things. God really is the greatest of planners. 

I feel so light after getting all this off my chest. I genuinely cannot go another day with this in my life anymore. I think that all this time, all this mental hurt and anguish has been an inner fight with myself. The struggle because I was ready to grow but I wasn’t willing to let go. 

[thoughtstojots]

End Reflection: sophomore year of college

This year has been quite the year but most definitely a step up from the last in many ways. Here are some conclusions and progressing thoughts. 

1.) I still am not sure what I want to do with my life... maybe a doctor, maybe someone in product development. Whatever it may be I still want to dip my toes in so many other subjects and fields of study like cardiac research, textiles, sociology, European history, political science dealing with health care and international relations, food waste, biotechnology. The list GOES ON. If anything I have realized this year, it is that I just want to learn, to know, to try to understand, and to do whatever I can to gain a better perspective of what I want to learn about. 

2.) Academics are not my priority. Important? Yes. Needed? Well, maybe not. That doesn’t mean I neglect them at all. Yes, I still put effort and I still intend to get good grades but I am most definitely not losing sleep (or as much as my more school-oriented-high-school-self would have) over stressing out about a class to get an A in. 

a. What if I want to be a doctor? Then I should have exceptional grades to bring up my overall resume. Grades are one way to boost your resume but definitely not the only way. I’m not just letting them sink and watching them drown. Rather, I’m just choosing my room over the library. More so, because I’m not so sure I want to be a doctor, I don’t think it’s worth it to lose sleep over it especially in these harder science classes. And if I do choose med school, I’ll work super hard to do well on the MCAT (easier said than done, but doable). 

b. Somewhere in the fusion of the egg and sperm that made me, the DNA lineup possibly allowed me to be slightly smart. This year, the year I have honestly slacked the most ever in school, I have noticed that my plummet was not too bad. I mean it may be that I’m getting more sleep than others but I don’t have to work as hard as a lot to get the same results. When it comes to understanding connections between differences and learning trends and patterns, I much say I have a knack for it after just seeing it the first few times. And I guess with this, I choose my battles. I.e. organic chemistry. Mechanisms no problem. Remembering reagents, problem. Wouldn’t have been if I had taken some time to make flashcards or a Quizlet but oh well.

c. My desire to learn really comes into play with all of this. I enjoy hearing it for what it is or maybe reading on it to know more about it. But hard core studying, no thanks. Evolution lecture was very interesting (during the times I wasn’t sleeping in it) but more enjoyable was the book (when I actually read it). The book was actually interesting and from there, informing, and a good way to study. But I didn’t go out of the way to study so I could get an A on the exam. 

d. Regrettably, I still don’t know how to effectively study. The studying I did this year was a lot of piggy backing off of other’s study sessions or self teaching myself something I did want to know more about but was probably only going to be two multiple choice questions on the exam. 

With this mentality, I have become more relaxed and less stressed. I have invested myself in so many other things that have made me happier. That was also a difference between high school me and college me. My grades were "priorities” in high school but I kept a balanced life of doing extracurricular activities that I honestly enjoyed. It just happened that a lot of my social life at time was also interwoven with these activities, making it all manageable. Once I entered college, I came in with the mindset that my grades were my priority and actually made them my priority. There’s no doubt, there are times I still regret my past action and choices, comparing my what is to a what could have been scenario (but I always overthink things and look back on what a “better” situation). It’s difficult not to but I’m learning.

3.) The time spent with certain people is way too short. This year I have really branched my self in varying social groups and met many people. Sad to say though, quite a few of them graduated this semester. Even sadder to say, a good handful were international students who are returning/have returned to their prospective homelands. Those who are not, are off to better things away from Lexington. Earlier in the week I was comparing my social group from freshmen year to this year and noticed stark contrasts but also some underlying themes. 

a. The Greek life scene was definitely not up my ally. A lot of partying and drama, fake sisterly bonding, and an awkward climb to a crumbly social hierarchy. I think the worst part about it was that it kept me encapsulated in a bubble where I found no individual growth. My days revolved around it with going chapter meetings or mandatory events, trying to eat or hang out with my “sisters” to bond, pretending to care about the dumb shit they got themselves into. It was all just not my scene. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t meet any great people. I met wonderful women in the sorority I was in and I know a handful of strong, intelligent, women in sororities now. But it was not until I was out of that cliquey, over-dramatic environment and involved in other things that I saw some of the better qualities in these women. One, it makes me happy to see the great things of them do outside that realm. Two, it’s disheartening to see how two-faced these same people can be around different people. 

The people I met this year, wow. I can’t even say they were a complete 360 but really they were just on a different playing field. As much as I would like to think it had something to do with the Law of Attractiveness, it was probably more so luck. From work, to clubs, to labs, to classes, to volunteering, to random hangouts, to studying, I met some good people that I have shared some great memories with. (There have also been a handful of bad apples that I wish I didn’t have memories with.) They were all integrated in their own communities but were so welcoming to me. In one short year, I have experienced more warmth from strangers than I have a lifetime. I wish they didn’t have to leave. 

b. Dipping my toes in other things has also kept me a good distance from the pre-med crowd. But even in freshmen year, I didn’t seek their integration. I have met more pre-meds but I have learned to pick and sort who I enjoy being around, who I find annoying and aggravating, and who I totally don’t want to talk to unless I need something from them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Surely enough, this distance has made it easier to relieve some guilt I have about my not-so-stellar grades and to pursue more enjoyable events. But hey, late night study sessions with lots of Starbucks and good company is something I will forever cherish. Also, it has been so much fun meeting science orientated people not pre-professional anything.  

4.) Home is still too far. Yeah, a little over an hour away but with no car and limited time, it is far. Talking and texting my family weekly is still inconvenient for al of us as we’re each getting busier and busier.  In some ways it has been a good thing, especially for my siblings. Since I am a second overbearing mother figure sometimes, they have less to deal with now that I am away and I can see that it has been for the better. They’ve grown and accomplished so much. I’m proud. 

5.) Just because I have free time doesn’t mean I’m free. This year was also a lot about balancing my energy levels in terms of school, work, socializing, and having me time. I tended to overbook myself thinking I was getting equal amounts in everything but not realizing that I needed unequal amounts of some things for me to really thrive. 

6.) The year of not shopping for clothes failed. Sorry not sorry. I cheated the system for so long by having Umair buy be things and I buy him things in return. Now it has just collapsed. Somewhere in March, I bought something. But, hey, I did last longer than many assumed. 

7.) If you can’t be a team player, don’t be on the team. There were some shining moments where I showed some intelligence, organization, and leadership skills throughout the year among different groups. However, if I must commend myself on anything, it’s for being a team player. Understanding where the faults are, doing your part, and upholding yourself to the standards set, it’s not impossible. You’re just really accountable for you. But to be on a team, please be aware of of the others and try to be understanding. You don’t have to break your back for someone but you could try bending a bit. It’ll only help you be more flexible. 

8.) I’m really not that young. They say age is just a number and it really is. But it’s also a number with limitations and responsibilities. No driving until this age.  No drinking until this age. Vote when you’re this age. Apply to things when you’re this age. Sigh. As much as I look forward to getting to a more respectable age, I don’t want to grow up at all. It’s all contradictory to me. 

[realtalk-princeton]

How do you study for all the premed requirements and do extra stuff that helps your application and then how do u study for the mcat??? How do u do it? How do u retain all that information? And pass your classes?

Response from Nick Carraway:

Just take a deep breath; you seem a bit overwhelmed.

1) You don’t take every single premed requirement at the same time. You might take 1 or 2 max in a semester. Thus, you’re not studying for “all the premed requirements” at one time.

2) As for the MCAT, you don’t even think about studying for the MCAT until the year you plan to take it. If you’re planning to apply straight through without a gap year, you need to take it prior to senior spring. Many students take it over the summer before their junior year in this case. I chose to take it in April of my junior spring. I studied for the MCAT between August and April of that year (which was a bit of overkill, but it worked out). If you are taking a gap year, I suggest taking the MCAT the summer after junior year. When you’re taking it over the summer, you can easily study from June-September and take it early-mid September. That is plenty of time when you’re not dealing with the stress of courses. If you’re a freshman, the MCAT should not be on your mind right now! I wasn’t even premed as a freshman!

3) The ‘extra stuff.’ I realize that my recent answer about what med schools are looking for aside from good GPA and MCAT score was probably a bit overwhelming for freshman premeds. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stress anyone out. The extra stuff really falls into 3 categories: research, clinical experience, and nonclinical volunteering. 

3a) Research can be nonexistent until your senior thesis. You can also do research during the year (I started freshman spring; many people will start over the summer after freshman year during an internship or on campus; the timeline varies a lot per person). If you’re doing research during the year, I recommend committing ~10 hours per week to the lab. Otherwise you realistically won’t be productive. It seems like a lot, but often you have down time to do other stuff (though that is NOT the case with my thesis research; I am legitimately always busy; in the last lab I was in on campus, I had large amounts of downtime to do work during).

3b) Clinical experience can’t be nonexistent on your app, or you won’t get in. Some opportunities to get clinical exposure near Princeton include: hospice (HPA sends emails about this every year), volunteering at UMCPP (the local hospital that’s about 10 minutes away on Route 1), volunteering with the local EMT squad (PFARS; this is what I’ve done for my clinical volunteering). There are also lots of other less obvious ways to fulfill this. You just need to be helping patients (this can be in the ER scribing on your gap year or something; it can be working at a summer camp helping children with disabilities; it can be in an elderly home or as a tech in an ophthalmology clinic). Really the opportunities are endless, you just need to make something happen. I ride with the EMT squad 8 hours per week (and have been doing this since sophomore spring). If you don’t get anything started freshman year, that’s totally fine. Just start thinking about it sophomore year! 

3c) Nonclinical volunteering. This one is the most obvious I think. Really do whatever interests you! There are tons of organizations through the PACE center that you could get involved with; Habitat for Humanity; working with an underserved population in some way; tutoring kids around here or helping with college applications. If you could at least join one of these groups your freshman spring to get the ball rolling on that, that’d be great!

4) It seems like you’re worried about fitting all of this in. Through these descriptions, I hope you can see that everything doesn’t have to happen 20 hours per week starting freshman year. That would be absurd and not manageable. Start volunteering with a PACE center that you’re really interested in this freshman spring. Do research over the summer (or wait until your thesis starts). Start getting that clinical exposure to make sure the medical field is right for you sophomore year. You can’t spend 100% of your time studying, or else your application for med school will literally have nothing on it. They want to see well-rounded and involved people that will bring something to med school classes, right? Grades are important, but are you really going to study 24/7? I certainly can’t, and going into lab for the night or taking a night off during a shift at the EMT squad can really clear my head and prep me to be really productive the next day. It’s not like you need to ‘do it all at once,’ you just need to work it all in somewhere. 

5) Please, please don’t take this to mean you need to scramble to join a lab, join xyz clinical volunteering gig, and start volunteering tomorrow. I’ve noted when I started all of these things (many sophomore spring, largely because I wasn’t premed until sophomore spring). You will be okay! 

6) Meet with HPA! They are better than I am at helping confused freshman premeds through this process. 

I’m not sure why I’ve started answering questions in these numerical lists, but it seemed like this answer was going to have a lot of parts to it, so I went for it. Feel free to send in another submit. I didn’t mean to frazzle anyone! Just here to help the best I can.

[doktorcrimson]

I still can’t believe I fucking got into med school

In my previous post I mentioned I got accepted into medical school, and damn I still can’t believe that happened (  ﾟДﾟ)

DOKTOR CRIMSON IS ACTUALLY GONNA BE DOCTOR CRIMSON WAT

I was looking at American Association of Medical Colleges (AAMC) data sheets earlier and HOLY COW I can’t believe how lucky I am to even be offered an acceptance! Not to mention that I got into one of my top choices, a wonderful school with excellent academic programs and diverse patient populations. I am truly grateful to be in this position and so proud of myself...

FUCK YEAH DOCTOR CRIMSON!

Keep reading if you don’t mind me rambling.

Just to give a rough idea how competitive MD programs are in the US. There are roughly 150 accredited MD schools total. Usually a school receives a few thousand applications per year. Some schools may receive 10k+. Schools only accept enough to fill a class of about 100 students (some schools accept more, some schools accept less). That means the average acceptance rate for med school is about 5%. If you compare this to applying to college, you are literally applying to Harvard everywhere.... Out of 53042 applicants total in the US, only 21030 get accepted somewhere. That means 60% of applicants don’t get in anywhere every year, and that’s quite scary.

I had no fucking idea if I would get in or not. Like many have said, this process is literally a crapshoot (;o;)

The school I will be attending this fall had about 8k+ applications total. They only accept enough to fill a class of roughly less than 200 students. That’s a little more than 2% of all applicants for this school....

HOW THE FUCK DID I BECOME THE 2%??? Like I checked the facebook page for my class and I saw people who went to college at Harvard, UPenn, Princeton etc.?

I guess hard work does pay off and I’m not too dumb haha (ﾟ∀ﾟﾉ)ﾉ

So lemme talk about my application process last year. There’s a forum called Student Doctor Network (SDN) that I usually go to for resources applying to med school. People who post there are typically higher achievers compared to average applicants. When I was on the waitlist, seeing people getting multiple acceptances and even having the luxury to decide between school A vs. B really got me at the low point. 

I submitted 26-27 primaries back in July but ended up only being complete at 23 schools due to budget. Unlike some superstar applicants I didn’t get an early interview in August/September nor did I get an outright acceptance mid-October. My first interview came from my state school in October and I got my second interview in November. Normally my state school would be my best bet in getting into medical school since they have an in-state preference. However, my state school interview resulted in a rejection right before my second interview (like the decision was made literally a week before). 

I cried like an idiot that day and the following day. I didn’t want to tell anyone and I thought getting into med school was over for me. I got rejected by my state school, the school with the highest probability of being accepted at all. How am I supposed to get in a school that is ranked much better and more competitive than my state school? Honestly, I fucked up that interview myself and I knew what I did wrong (I regretted it right after I did it). I walked out of that interview feeling rather miserable and uncertain. Also part of it was because I was inexperienced and probably should’ve prepared more for my first interview. But still, it hurt, and it hurt a lot. Even today whenever I think about it, it’ll always an opportunity I missed. If I did get accepted to my state school, things would be very different right now.

I was lost. I finally decided to tell only one person, my good senpai and friend, who also happened to be an MD-PhD student. He told me to do a mock interview if possible. So I did it, got some feedback. Didn’t feel like I’ve improved much but more practice is always better. I went to my second interview with a much-relaxed attitude. My second interview was at the school that eventually accepted me and was the 2nd or 3rd school I wanted to go to out of my top choices (my #1 choice rejected me pre-interview haha). It felt really different than my first interview. I actually liked the school better despite I didn’t know anyone in the area nor did I have many ties to the school. I could tell my conversation between me and my interviewer was much better than my first interview. He even asked me about my art and con experiences, which probably had some influence in getting me an acceptance. I drew him a little sketch doodle with a person sitting in a coffee mug at the end of my interview. I walked out feeling confident, and the rest of the interviews I attended never gave me that same feeling.  

It then became a long wait until February when I finally received more interviews. But then again it was late in the cycle, I didn’t have much hope getting into those schools. I was placed on the supposedly high priority waitlist from the 2nd school I interviewed at the same month. After attending those other interviews, I knew the 2nd school, one of my top choices out of all schools, would be my best bet getting in at that point. With the help of a friend editing, I submitted an update letter within the same day I received the wait list status.

It was then another long wait. After May 1st med school traffic day, I was anxiously waiting for waitlist movements. A batch of waitlist acceptances had gone out the first week for the 2nd school I interviewed at. If I couldn’t get in somewhere during May, I would have to prepare for another application cycle. I was also looking for a new job at the same time since my current job didn’t pay much, let alone the fact I needed more money if I had to go through this application process again. I was extremely stressed. Other schools I interviewed at also threw me on their waitlists. My relationship with my family wasn’t great at that point either. I wanted to give up so much. I kept thinking: what did I do wrong this cycle? My GPA and MCAT definitely weren’t the factors keeping me out of med school. I had a good amount of clinical experience and research. My other extracurriculars weren’t extraordinary, but it did have some uniqueness. I guess it was it my interview? I mean, I’m not the most talkative person but I think I’m alright in small conversations. I admit I’m rather low energy compared to even a lot of other introverts, but how would I improve that next time? Should I just give up?

I was ready to meet with my pre-med advisor that Saturday morning for a new committee letter. I decided to check my email once more before I left the door.

HOLY GOD OF CHEESECAKES I DON’T HAVE TO APPLY AGAIN ANYMORE AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHA

And that’s my med school application year in a summary.

Big hugs and gross smooches to @theathelier~ I literally would’ve never made it to med school without your essay edits and emotional support! You know how upset I was those months before May. I tend to not show it in front of others but deep inside I was struggling very hard. I had some really negative thoughts at some point (really negative thoughts) but I keep thinking about you and other friends who have shown me support (yes, thank you @phoodledoodles for starting a med school specifically for me with a 1:1 student to faculty ratio and guaranteed nap time every day if I didn’t get in). I would’ve felt so guilty if I didn’t get in this cycle because all the effort you put in reading my essays QAQ Love you and I will make my best attempt to visit! *we still need to go to that pho place together*

@phoodledoodles @aeryecho I love you both, too <3

I’d like to mention @shinionlydrawsfreestyle for being my secret role model during my application cycle haha *senpai plz notice me face* I actually remember you on SDN from last application cycle (along with bananafish haha), I never expected to find your tumblr page. At first I felt yeah I’m probably the only weeb trash artist that does cons and digital art as a hobby while pursuing a main career that’s not even remotely related. And then I was searching “reviews for acrylic charms” and I found your blog and I read your bio that you said you were a med student and I went HOLY CRAP I WASN’T THE ONLY ONE. 

Congrats on finishing MS1 and good luck next year studying step 1, senpai!

Ah if my secondaries were like this post I would’ve never gotten in med school :P Thanks for reading if you got this far.

Love and Peace~

#doktor crimson #not art

[waybacktoremembering]

September 5, 2019

The day before the first day of uni.

I had planned to reach university by 8am so I can go for drop-in advising sessions for my degree. I got up past 8am instead. I convinced myself this was alright since I don't really have anything important until 11am (when the meeting for the AB lab was for). I take my time to shower and do my make-up. I had taken too much time looking for my ID so I can get the upass so I decide to eat on the way.

Around 9.50am I get a notification on my phone telling me I have to be in the lab by 10am. I panic as I thought the lab meeting was at 10am instead of 11am. Turns out I had scheduled my volunteering at 10am. It's okay, I'll just extend my stay till 4pm perhaps.

I get my bus pass first before heading to the lab and Trinh is actually working at the upass office which is nice. I get to the lab around 10.40am and head to the lab first before heading to the meeting room. It was pretty casual and brought up things that I can improve on or implement into transcribing for the substitution study (e.g. being more clear about what leaving the blank means, avoiding short cuts that cannot be understood). After that the meeting veered into GREs and Andrew's dissertation. I start to realise that Noor and Ummara, other volunteers for the study, are actively trying to get the info they need. And they KNOW what info they need as volunteers for the lab. I realise I'm not present and inquisitive enough to do that despite being here for 2 years but then again, at least I can improve on that. Diandra and I chat for another hour after that just regarding GREs and grad school, also her life. She was born and raised in Calgary and even attended her first two years of uni in U of C but transferred over to U of T where she took majority of her psychology classes. They didn't have labs though which is unfortunate and to my advantage since u of c offers them. Unfortunately for her she had to work as an RA to find out she likes stats. She said she's taking the GRE since she realised most grad schools need it but is not limiting herself into admitting to just within the psych department. She is also taking a few weeks off to study for it since it's in this month. She says it's best to skim through the test before studying seriously to familiarise with it. She also said not to try practice questions without studying first to avoid being demoralised. She also mentioned that U of C has a preference for non-ucalgary students for the clinical program which is odd but also means I have to go out of Calgary to increase my chances of getting in. Now I really have to narrow it down between trying the MCAT and trying GRE. At least I know GREs work by percentile so really I'm only as good as bad everybody is. I also realised how David has a preference for students who actually have the potential to achieve a lot of things. That's the qualification to be in his lab I guess. Andrew is a high achiever, a lot of grants and projects on hand while Ashley was in the 90th percentile, having the 2nd highest GRE score. Karen Tang was also an excellent honours student, winning best presenter award and all. Yep, definitely has high standards.

I volunteer a little bit more after the talk. After that, I head to arts advising to see their hours and I see Trinh on the way and we chat for a bit. She is working at the upass office for easy money which is neat. I believe she already graduated and will look for jobs soon.

I was supposed to stay in school longer but got fed up for being there for so long so I head home. I changed my mind last minute on the way and detour to Wow Bakery and Incha tea house for my bread and bbt fix. Best detour ever.

I got home pretty early and don't remember much honestly. I am currently working on narrowing down my RQ and I think I'll be doing the third one about commuters and non-commuters since I'm starting to realise that my understanding of the relationship between stigma stress, help seeking, and perceived stress is wrong. Let's hope I finish on time.

That's all for now.

[australiathestoryofus-blog1]

How do you ace the MCAT?

I answered this at a query that was different. You'll be able to get the answer here, and I will also paste it under.

I will tell you I aced the MCAT.

The very first time I took it, my heart was not in it. I didn't understand why I had been taking it. I felt as though I had been carrying it as it was expected of me. My frustration with all the examination bled in my relationships, leading to a stressful loop of discouragement. Because of this, my initial scored test back in August 2014 was fairly awful. Under average. I really don't know anybody who might give me a straight face and say "Good job, Nicholas! That is a fantastic score!" I wasn't satisfied.

Fast-forward per year, I completed my undergraduate studies, maintained my diploma in Chemistry and certification from Philosophy, Politics and Economics in the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and moved back to Phoenix, AZ.. My dad took me out to supper another day summer time, at which I voiced to him my doubts regarding medical college. I didn't understand how to answer. Inside my heart, I felt "yes," however there was just 1 way to know for certain - that I had to retake it. This time I had to provide the attempt I understood I could give - maybe not for my dad or anybody else, but only for the liberty that comes with knowing I did my very best. I desired choices. If I did not go into medical school, I did not need it to be due to a few evaluation.

I believed that I could balance a fulltime job program with MCAT studying along with other connections and actions. Again, I had been making exactly the exact same prideful mistake. I had been pursuing some idealized path rather than walking the trail depending upon my own capacity. So, the next time that I took the exam, I was not prepared. I took it, did not feel great about it all, and ended up voiding the scores. I had been humbled, frustrated, but decided.

Evaluation #3 - June-August 2016 - 2 years following the initial MCAT. I dedicated 8 hours per day x 7 days/week x 10 weeks following 560 hours of analyzing. However, I knew I needed to make every hour count AND make it so I did not burnout after week. I'd sleep and wake up at 6:30am as frequently as I could (sleep was essential to ensure I did not burn). Meditated. Drank a massive bottle of water (it had been in the Summer recall). Did pullups about the trees at the neighboring park. Stuffed weights in my backpack occasionally also. Said hello to the older ladies in the area that have been awake walking their dogs. My eyes, mind and body were prepared for to work.

I analyzed from 8am-3:30pm exactly enjoy the actual MCAT session, using a 30 second lunch between a few 10 minute breaks following 90 minutes of analyzing. (8am-9:30'm study. 9:30am-9:40'm break. 9:40am-11:15'm study. And so forth). Then I'd nap. Then I'd exercise. Then I'd cook and cook dinner. Then I'd chill a little. Then I'd begin studying again in 8:30pm-11:30pm using a 10 minute break in the center. Then I'd spend another half an hour just closing my eyes and dreaming and thinking and possibly talking to loved ones and composing something favorable to myself in a small notebook I maintained to maintain my attention on what things and throw off the remainder. Lights out at midnight and begin the entire thing repeatedly. **Notice the way I "coated" my sleeping - until sleeping and waking - up with matters which are positive and emotionally relaxing (going for walks, saying hello to neighbors, doing pullups, drinking water, showering, meditating, studying, talking to loved ones, writing small notes, believing, dreaming, focusing).

I'd practice issues from Day 1. Examine these thoroughly. Each word. Each word. Whether it had been about the AAMC "listing of subjects to understand" or NOT - that I could not care less. If I did not understand it, I researched it. And that I took a practice test every 3 days or so. In 10 months of analyzing which amounted to I think 18 clinic evaluations. The 19th evaluation was the true thing. Plus it was like another day in the office by there.

I knew I had been free the morning that I walked to the testing centre for the next time. I knew that I put in the job. I wound up improving my score so far my percentile group improved by about 50 percentile points. For example, my CARS score rose from 52 percent to 98 percent. I had been satisfied.

Me. What changed? I got from my manner. I began appreciating the process of growing and learning as an independent thinker.

And that is the way I studied to have a fantastic score.

To recap:

Learn to become self-conscious of if you DON'T understand something Research those items Exercise more passages to find out more and more and an increasing number of things you don't understand. Realize and get familiar with all the depth of your ignorance. There's not any such thing as large return. Eliminate in the own mind. And keep in mind, that is my narrative. Therefore don't! Require 15 weeks or 20 months! These "programs" are ARBITRARY. They're COMPLETELY SUBJECTIVE for you and your own pace.

Read gradually (such as a 3rd grader - I read by copying the words with my finger haha). Read together with emotion. Know. Study these items. Speed will come with training.

It is my hope that this was useful :-RRB-... I got sidetracked in the office whilst typing this I am sure I might have lost my train of thought.

Fantastic luck!

[realtalk-princeton]

I'm choosing not to do any certificates, but I am interested in going into medicine. Will med schools or nursing schools ask why I didn't complete a certificate and would that put me at a disadvantage? Thanks!

Response from Viola:

From my understanding, certificates are pretty much "useless" professionally unless there's a clear connection between what career you want to go into and the certificate you're doing (eg non-COS majors getting the Applications of Computing certificate to go into tech, English majors doing the Theatre certificate bc there's no theatre major etc...). I feel like most students get a certificate otherwise because they're interested in the topic, want to combine what they've learned in their certificate with their thesis (COS majors doing a Visual Arts certificate to do perhaps a digital art thesis), want to show off language proficiency, or just because their course of study makes it very easy to pick up certificates with an extra class or two (I've heard this a lot from some of my engineering buddies). 

As a premed student, I really can't see how not doing a certificate can put you at a disadvantage. Med schools are primarily looking for smart students who can do the academic work and have the non-academic competencies for being a doctor (communication skills, teamwork, etc). This article from the AAMC spells it out pretty well, I'd recommend giving it a read:  https://students-residents.aamc.org/applying-medical-school/article/med-schools-looking-for-15-competencies/. 

As you can see there really isn't much that a certificate can do to help demonstrate these competencies to med schools beyond your already rigorous Princeton curriculum. Your thesis work, extracurriculars, GPA, and MCAT score will do much more for you on that front than a certificate imo. I can't imagine a scenario where med or nursing schools ask you why you didn't complete a certificate so I think you're fine. Don't stress too much about it, premed is already stressful enough.

Hope this helps :)