Do you remember? What was your first anime? Who you wanted to be as a child: a beautiful justice warrior, the pilot of the giant robot or maybe you wished to be spirited away far from this world? What you opened for yourself only now and already want to show to all your friends? And what you want to remind people about?
OLD&GOLD Zine isdedicated to anime from 70s to 90s. And it opens its SIGN-UPS.
And under anime from 70s to 90s I mean every anime from 70s to 90s ranging from romantic comedies to psychologic experiments; from TV series to Miyazaki’s films.Yes, Lupin III and Candy Candy. Yes, Urusei Yatsura and Dragon Ball and even Akira too. Yes, Cowboy Bepop and Serieal Experiments Lein are in the list as well.
Huh? You started to remember how much you loved the very particular show? You are getting interested? So hurry up and check the brief info and send your sign up formto firstname.lastname@example.org.
“Tell me how it is to be a nurse, how is it to be a doctor?”
Questions that perhaps give us the most pause.
Except, if you ask us, the work on the frontline feels anything but explainable, anything but extraordinary.
We wake up in the morning, we dread going to work, we hit the snooze button like any other, wishing the day wasn’t Monday, wishing the 12.5 hours stretched before us wasn’t today, wishing we could snuggle under the covers, away from the world. We surface, kick the covers off obstinately, brew our coffee/tea, curse the obnoxious commuters. We resemble any responsible adult when we go through the motions of everyday life.
Except; the responsibility hasn’t even begun.
We punch in, walk onto the unit, surveying the waiting room as we walk in - a determinant of how the shift may be; large groups grieving, families arguing, solemn looks, crash cart lined up outside the room, empty nursing station warning trouble in one or more of the rooms, and we want to turn around and walk back off the unit.
Except, we don’t.
We take our assignment for the day, the patient who is crashing in room 12, and another supposed low maintenance patient, awaiting step down unit. We peek at the low maintenance patient on the way to the crasher, heart already feeling the guilt that we are about to neglect this patient today while we deal with the storm next door.
Except, we don’t have time for guilt - yet.
We spend the day in what could only be described as chasing our own tail; watching patients mercilessly who state “I won’t fall,” accepting blame when they do during the four seconds we turned the other way, we scurry back and forth titrating drips, sending copious labs, adjusting ventilator settings, participating in rounds, admitting, discharging, and transferring patients…and ready to begin it all over again before the room is even properly dry from being bleached clean….we spend an inordinate amount of time cleaning up after doctors, and other providers, a trail of empty gauze, sodden dressings, syringes, tape, packaging and other assorted items so they do not become trapped under patients, or invade what little personal space they have, we dedicate moments, and sometimes backbreaking hours with patients, turning and positioning, and tucking them in snug and warmly - not just because a damn hospital policy tells us to, but because it’s the one little thing we can do to give them a little dignity, a clean environment while this room and this bed is their home. We escort families in, and tactfully shoo them out with the frequency of cleaning the escaping diarrhea around the flexi-seal tube, somewhere in the middle of this reflecting on the harsh realities and visuals of nursing that television shows will never depict.
We grapple with decisions, weighing the risks and benefits of what we’re about to do and often it occurs without anyone else in the room, the enormity of the responsibility so overwhelming, yet we cannot think and stew on it until the day is done.
Except, try as we might, we’re not sure we could articulate it well to the masses, either.
We forgo meal breaks when a patient is decompensating; not because we desire the glory of trudging on, but because for this day, this patient is our world, our responsibility, and one hour away from them in an understaffed unit - with a fellow nurse watching them alongside of his/her own catastrophic situation - well, it isn’t a meal break we will enjoy peacefully, so we tell ourselves we’ll just catch up a bit more, then go. Just another 10 minutes, then 10 minutes becomes just another hour… until it becomes just two more hours to change of shift, just one more hour, just thirty minutes.
Except, on most days, we aren’t even aware of how much time has escaped and we’re catching up on all the vital signs, the hourly intake, the interruptions and time seems to stand still in the moment when the patient arrests and the room is flooded with doctors and nurses trying to save this life.
Time stands still, even though an hour has passed and the patient is successfully resuscitated, and we go about the ordinary tasks of maintaining human function that the media will never portray, we go about cleansing the grime and gore that won’t stop gushing from all orifices - a sight we endure that’s by no means extraordinary, but an ordinary function of what we do, we spend time that feels like hours scurrying after orders while patients circle the drain, when our voices have grown hoarse over days and weeks from pleading with the doctors to grow some balls and tell the families honestly their loved one isn’t coming back, and it’s time…time to stop slaughtering them with invasive treatment, time to do what’s humane, not what’s good for ego, time to to stop and let them go….even though our hearts are shattered to admit defeat too. Most days we tell ourselves ordinary has to feel “enough” as we stare at the ceiling while sleep won’t come.
We spend sacred minutes, which is more than likely scattered moments with patients who are suffering, end of life, experiencing the agony of distressing news. We are at the bedside during painful procedures, we are at the bedside when no one else is there, no families, no friends, no one to speak of, We are the comfort of the brave, the solace of the strong, the restful place of the tired, and dying. And somedays we cannot leave it all there, so the caregiver role strain, the responsibility, the extent of what we see and feel in one day cannot be captured in any articulate sentence,
When someone asks us how our day was, we’ll just say, “fine”
When someone asks us what it means to be a nurse, we are likely to simply say “responsibility.”
Stay away from me. Don’t get close, because if you do, I’ll get attached. I won’t let go. You’ll become my best friend. You’ll become my world. I’ll cling to you, and get jealous when you’re away. I will text you multiple times each day because I miss you. You’d be the one I care about more than anyone else. I’ll suffocate you with my presence. You are my obsession, and it will be unhealthy for both of us. You’ll then get tired of me and leave me. I will fall apart into madness because after all that, I forgot what its like to be alone. Stay away from me. I’m not okay.
Wish world Emma recognized Regina right away because she spent countless hours admiring an old portrait of the Queen in the forbidden room she wasn’t supposed to enter (I absolutely love this headcanon) 😌
I had this request seating in my inbox for a while now, after 6x10 aired. But I knew I would need episode 6x11 to truly support the claim that this wish world, which was supposed to be “Emma’s wish”, the world of how things would be if she hasn’t been the savior, were nothing but things the EQ/Regina would have imagined them to be.
Lets discuss it one by one, shall we:
Emma: Remember the EQ telling her that she is nothing if she isn’t the savior? Well, that’s how she sees her, as “pointless” without the job of being the savior. Regina is also known for running away from her guilty conscience, so this wish world end up “showing” how she actually did Emma a favor by screwing up her life.
The Charmings: The truth is that Regina as the EQ always looked down on them, feeling so much better, and she was basically creating a version of them being old and raising their daughter to fear instead of fight.
Henry: Oh, I think he’s the biggest proof of this world being made by the EQ’s wish, because he ended up being exactly as she wanted him to be in the real life. Vindictive with a hunger for fights and destroy.
Hook: Lets face it,Regina always looked down on him. Seeing him as something less, beneath her, or everyone. So of course in her wish world he would be a pathetic version of himself. With a terrible sense of style…
Robin: Now he is the biggest thing because we will still have him in these episodes. But my theory about him is that he’s actually a version of Robin that the EQ was in love with in oppose to Regina. See how he was loving the idea of being cared by the EQ? He didn’t say Regina, or beautiful woman. He liked the idea of being the powerful EQ’s lover. At least that’s how I see it right now. Remember how he wasn’t afraid of her when everyone run away? It was before he even knew who she was. The EQ made a wish world, in which a version of the Robin that SHE loved would be at.
So the way I see it, we can stop looking at that ridicules wish world as a canon thing for the “what if” Emma was never the savior. At the end of the day, the wish wasn’t made by her, it was made by the EQ, and it also belonged to Regina because the wishes belonged to the both of them.
We all know Aaron’s sweater paws and ring playing with such heartbreaking familiarity. Ryan Hawley deserves more appreciation for the subtleties.
Robert Sugden holds unto his elbow patches to remind himself he’s confident, and brave and he can do this!
Robert Sugden wrings his hands together. Part of him has this need to reach his hand over to Aaron’s knee for comfort, but thats what got them in this mess. So he’s gripping unto his own hand so tightly that it discolors to relieve stress picked up from watching Aaron during the Gordon trial.
Robert Sugden looks over to his mother-in-law partly because he doesn’t want to see the pain in Aaron’s eyes especially knowing he caused it. And also as a means of seeking much needed motherly attention, that he’s rarely recieved
Robert Sugden most often closes his eyes, not just for a blink, but as if he is shutting away from the world because he can’t cope with it. Imagining an entire different alternative universe where he has what he wants. The character has been doing this since he was a little boy, wishing his real world away.
Suspicion, on a show like Doctor Who, is gained easily. Strange behaviour, more often than not, might just be the sign of a threat or the beginning of an invasion. From her first appearance on, Heather comes across as a dubious figure. In a crowded lecture hall, she stares straight ahead, no sign that she is even registering the content. Encountering Bill at the bar, no words are spoken, just an enigmatic smile. And through it all, a the bright star in her iris, a curious feature on a show in which being human is optional.
And yet, these moments are undeniably framed as romantic. “The day you fall in love”, the Doctor exclaims as the camera rests on Heather’s face. And there, eyes are meeting, two people drawn to each other across a crowded room. When Bill meets Heather once again, our trust in this set up is tested once again, with an odd request that lures Bill to what is clearly a source of danger. A puddle without rain, a reflection that isn’t quite right, and a girl who first beckons Bill to look and then flees the scene.
Heather fits in an odd spot between different expectations. It looks like she is leading our heroine into peril, but she makes a poor evil seductress, too rough around the edges. Moreover, every detail make her less suitable for a sweet romance, drawn out over small encounters. Although even her last name remains unknown, we are given emotional glimpses. Alienation and discontent. She hates her surroundings and rejects who she is. A defect.
Still, the very second Heather catches the glimpse of understanding, she begins to open up. One moment, she is rude and dismissive, but an “Are you freaking out about something?” is enough to start confiding in Bill, to show her what she is preoccupied with, to admit that she wants to leave wherever she goes. To grant Bill a “maybe” when she asks to come along. The small, tentative beginnings of a romance, with all its unfulfilled promises.
It takes Heather’s transformation into the Pilot for the puzzle pieces of her isolation to truly fall into place. She has found a single droplet left behind by a spaceship and it consumes her until she too is shaped from flowing tears. Stripped down to to her wishes and thoughts, she isn’t pushing the outside world away. She is reaching out, through all of time and space, yearning for that connection not quite made.
Where Bill complains that her face betrays her emotions, Heather’s shows her detachment and hostility but hides her unhappiness and longing. Fragments of her depression. But there is hope too. In recognising someone who tries to understand. In the stars in her eye, of the universe she now holds within. And in finding that someone who is looking for you, maybe, some day.
Summary: The reader and Bucky have
been very close friends, best friends if you will, since they were young. Even
now that they are finally in their last year of college, the two are still tied
to the hip. When Bucky stops at her house after partying a little too much a
secret is revealed. Will this secret bring them closer to tear their friendship
Parings: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Fluff, like major fluff
Word Count: 1370
A/N: Oh, my gosh. This was supposed to be ot three days ago. Forgive me!!! I think this was my favorite part to write. It’s so
cute and I smiled while writing it. I hope you guys like it. There will be one more
part after this and most likely an epilogue. Just because why not. Anyways…
You hadn’t felt this miserable in so long. Bucky had texted,
called, he had even showed up to your classes. Each and every time, you did the
only thing you thought made sense. Oh, how wrong you were. The more you seen
his name on your phone, the more you heart fluttered. You spent the past week
missing him, wishing he was beside you, holding you in his large arms as he
found a way to comfort you. Bucky was always the one who was there for you when
you didn’t think you would ever be okay.
Sadness ,despair,melancholy ,nostalgia and an uncontrolled rage are like stones thrown to me every time i wake up in the morning…each day i carry a big rock over my heart so heavy ,that i barely slip from my bed…
The pain continues, like a spear during day by day getting worse ,leading me to a world of emptiness,with dark holes with no meanings.Thoughts of the end ,thoughts of mysery are keeping melting my brain ,my bowels ,my nothings…
During hours,minutes ,seconds and pulses , i am like a machine doing my obligations of a responsible woman ,someone who have to wear a mask,someone who everyone demands perfection of me ,someone who have to bare the stake of them and mine,someone who wants to scream but have to hide my another world…
I wish all the pain go away ,i wish to be obliterated from this existence ,i wish not to be only a simple being who is standing in a path of choices ,to be an obsctacle ,a pebble washed by the ripples of this ocean which crash in me sometimes hardly ,others gently to spread within me. a whisper of a love song ,a secret but soon i realize i have no power,no strenght ,nor a body ,a soul,an essence of me to hold this crashing states of mine ….states of insanity…
I desire and deserve so much more for me, but im tired of this life without living ,this hunger ,this madness which are pulling me to an unknown place ,to a cave ,to a well with any ground to touch…
I want fading away ,i want to hold on but yet these tricks of life ,life so grey that keep me pushing to the grave are draining me drop by drop …
So ,i will stare this wall and wait who knows for the key of my solution…
But life itself soon, will call me again to be wasted in an endless tiny beats of my heart, in every angle ,in every square without having the force to change…