#but i always criticize myself for everything

[albino-notes]

Blijf bij me

Description: ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ You despise hospitals, but with your boyfriend Joost by your side, even the prospect of having surgery feels a little more bearable. ⋅˚ ৎꪆ｡• 𐭩ᡣ

Pairing: Joost x chronically ill!reader (relatively gender neutral besides 1-2 mentions of 'girl')

Word Count: 3.2k (really let myself go with this one lol)

Contents: a bit of angst, tons of fluff, loads of forehead kisses (i am a slut for them), mention of hospitals, needles (sorta) and wounds, negative self-talk, little bit of swearing (i wrote *fuck* once i think)

A/N: fic based on these headcanons! got discharged from the hospital last week and feel a lot better now! thanks for the well wishes <3 @iloveonionbowie39 i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! i hope i didn't make it too negative, but as a chronically ill girlie myself i felt the need to include the negative, self-critical part of having an illness. let me know if you want me to change it up, i definitely don't mean any harm to anyone!! finally, feel free to point out any improvements for my writing as i'd like to continually improve myself <3 also let me know if you want tantu fics in the future

Hospitals had always been a source of dread for you. The pungent smell of antiseptic, the bright, white lights, the bare and sterile environment, the overworked nurses with their short fuses – all of it combined to create an atmosphere you despised. Even though you’d been to the hospital more often than you could count, the thought of returning there sent shivers down your spine every time.

People assumed you had become used to it; that it wasn’t a big deal for you. And partly that was true, at least when it came to regular check-ups. They mostly consisted of blood tests, ultrasounds, occasionally MRIs too. It was nothing you hadn’t done before and the tests were usually over quickly, allowing you to soon be able to return to your otherwise colourful and carefree life. When it came to having surgery, however, it wasn’t that easy to distract yourself from the darkness inside of you. Your usual stays lasted up to a week and left you no possibility to escape from the reality that, despite all attempts, your life would never be as carefree as other people’s. You were chronically ill, there was no real cure for it, and you would always have to rely on this cold and clinical place to be able to at least minimise your symptoms.

“Uh, I think I have everything. Are you coming?”

Just then, Joost came trudging down the stairs with two of his hoodies draped over his right arm and his left arm tucked behind his back. “I figured you would want some cosy hoodies to keep you warm.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Aaaaand,” he continued with a smug grin on his face, “I’ve got a surprise for you for when you go into surgery. Are you ready?”

You look at him with a puzzled expression.

“Close your eyes.” You did as you were told. Joost could barely contain his laughter as he grabbed your hand and placed something small and fuzzy in it. “Now open them.”

Your initial instinct was to roll your eyes, but now it was you who had to suppress a laugh. You pull a face as you eyed the yellow stuffed toy in front of you in disdain. “I’m not taking that to the hospital.”

“Oh, come on. Minions need love too,” Joost chuckled. “Just admit it, it’s the best gift ever.”

“It’s really not,” you said, playfully crossing your arms.

“Too bad, I’ve already paid for it. It’s coming with,” he said, laughing as he grabbed the plushie from your and dropped it into your hospital bag.

The short ride to the clinic was filled with nervous chatter, mostly coming from Joost. He tried to keep your spirits up with jokes and anecdotes, comfortingly brushing over your thigh as he did so, but soon noticed that nothing could be said or done to ease the growing tightness in your chest.

“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered under your breath as Joost killed the engine of the car once you got to the hospital parking lot.

The hospital was just as you remembered: cold, clinical, and uninviting. Joost squeezed your hand as you checked in, his reassuring presence at least a small comfort. “I’m here,” he whispered, “it’s gonna be okay, liefje.”

⋆⭒˚.⋆

You were scared to death when you first told Joost about your illness. You were smitten with each other from the moment you met, held together by an invisible string that didn’t need distance to make your hearts grow fonder. Joost knew from the day he met you that he wanted to be with you, and of course you felt the same – however, the first few weeks of meeting him were also filled with doubts and anxiety about how he’d react once he knew this side of you. You kept procrastinating your confession, trying to savour every moment with him in case he would reject you. But when Joost finally asked you to make your relationship official, you knew you could no longer keep your medical history a secret.

“I guess I’m taking that as a no?” Joost had said, followed by a nervous chuckle as you had watched him wordlessly for a few moments, not knowing how to even start a conversation like that.

Out of fear he would interpret the situation as a rejection, you finally told him everything. Your memory of it was cloudy, your heart was threatening to jump out of your chest as you explained the situation to him. You were sure some words hadn’t even really been audible, as you were racing to get it all out of your system before your courage could leave your body. When you were finally done, you were expecting him to wish you a good life and walk away, which had been the reaction of most men you had dated up until that point.

Much to your surprise, all he said was, “Thank you for telling me. Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

That hadn’t been the reaction you were expecting at all, leaving you confused. “What do you mean? You’re okay with it?”

He chuckled. “Why shouldn’t I be? I'm not judging you for something you can't control.”

“Okay, but,” you said, frowning, “sooner or later it will affect you too. This life I’m living… it’s not exactly a walk in the park.”

“Okay, but,” he said, now mimicking you – not in a condescending way; he just couldn’t quite comprehend why you thought he was the disadvantaged one in the situation, “you’re still you. I liked you before and I like you now. And if anything, I’m sorry that you had and still have to go through all that. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to help you get through it.”

“Thank you,” you muttered. That was everything you could manage to say as you felt a tear rolling down your cheek. “So do you still want to be together?”

“Oh, schatje,” he smiled, taking your hands in his, “that was never up for debate.”

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The preparation for the surgery was a blur of medical jargon, forms to sign, and nurses bustling around. Joost helped you change into the hospital gown, pressing a soft kiss just beneath your shoulder as he tied up the strings around your neck into a loose bow. “My brave girl,” he hummed softly into your ear, his voice a tender whisper. “Ik ben zo trots op je.” (I am so proud of you)

You glanced back at him, your eyes feeling wet and heavy. “I don’t feel very brave right now.”

Joost placed his hand underneath your chin, gently moving your face towards him. “You are, liefje. Even if you may not see it right now.”

The nurse came in to check your vitals once more, and Joost stepped back, giving her space but not without taking your hand in his first, squeezing it gently to remind you of his unwavering support. As the nurse finished her tasks, she gave you a reassuring smile. “Everything is looking good. We’ll be ready to take you into surgery in a few minutes."

Joost leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead, and then another, and then two more on either side of your face for good measure, bringing a much-needed smile to your face. What would you do without him? “You got this, schat. I will be right there when you wake up,” he promised.

As you were transported to the operating room, you clutched the Minions plushie tightly, irony not lost on you that it had somehow become a source of comfort.

True to his word, Joost was the first person you saw as you opened your eyes. He got up from his seat, leaning over you and carefully brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face and then gently stroking your cheek. It hurt to see you pale and lifeless like that as you lay there with IV fluids dripping into your veins and the cuff of the blood pressure monitor wrapped around your upper arm. The room was dimly lit, and your vision was still hazy, but Joost’s presence was a beacon of clarity for you. “Hey there, sleepyhead,” he greeted softly, his voice filled with relief and affection.

You managed a weak smile, placing your free hand over his. “Hi. How long was I out?”

“About three hours,” he answered, intertwining his fingers in yours. “The doctors were here. They said that everything went well and that you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you for being here, Joost.”

He gave you that wide smile you loved so much, the one where he had to squint because his mouth seemed to take up half of his face. “I told you I’m not going anywhere.”

You looked around your hospital room, your vision now starting to clear up. You immediately noticed a fresh bouquet of chrysanthemums on your nightstand, their colourful appearance brightening up the bland room in an instant.

“I hope you like them. They didn’t have much to choose from, and I also had to rush to get some other stuff you might need,” he explained, reaching out to grab a bag that revealed some magazines, comics, unread books that had been collecting dust in your bookshelf at home, and Joost’s old Gameboy. “Sooo, what shall it be? Super Mario, Zelda, or Pokémon?”

“Thank you for everything,” you said with a pout. Just then, an involuntary yawn escaped your mouth.

Joost chuckled silently. “Alright, maybe you should get some more sleep first.”

When you woke up again, the sun had already started to set outside of the big, barred windows of your hospital room. Joost was fast asleep in his chair, his hair damp with sweat and messy, and his clothes wrinkled. He was snoring softly, and a pang of guilt hit you as you watched him being so uncomfortable in his chair with his back hunched over, his neck propped up against the wall, and his jacket serving as a blanket. You hated that he sacrificed his sleep for you; just because you were in this miserable situation didn’t mean that others needed to be miserable too.

“Joost,” you whispered, trying to wake him up. Joost exhaled sharply, widely opening his eyes. “You should go home and get some proper rest. You’re going to hurt your back in this chair.”

He drowsily shook his head, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. “I’m not leaving.”

You carefully scooted over in your bed and lifted your blanket. He looked hesitant at first, but your pleading expression convinced him. He took off his shoes and climbed into your bed, mindful of all the cables that were attached to you.

“Better?” You asked, closing your eyes as the warmth radiating from his body engulfed you. You laid your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his ribcage.

“Much better,” he agreed, his voice a gentle rumble. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Is this even allowed?”

“I don’t care.” You smiled before both of you drifted off to sleep.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Boredom was a constant companion in the hospital, but Joost made sure it never overstayed its welcome. Once you were feeling better, you were browsing through the magazines and comics together. When your eyes would get tired, he would read to you from the books he had brought and whenever he was out getting coffee or snacks or lunch for himself, you would play on his Gameboy. When he got back, though, he demanded your full attention.

“Did you know,” he started one afternoon, a wide grin on his face, “that honey never spoils? Archaeologists have found pots of honey in ancient Egyptian tombs that are over 3000 years old and still perfectly edible.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Where do you even find these facts?”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “TikTok. The source of all reliable information.”

Worse than the boredom, though, was the awful hospital food. “If I see one more bowl of noodle soup, I’m going to lose it,” you grumbled.

Joost’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you planning?”

He laughed. “Just you wait and see.”

The next day, he waltzed into your room with a takeout bag, the tantalising smell of burgers and fries wafting through the air.

“Oh my God, I fucking love you,” you shouted, unable to hide your excitement at the prospect of some delicious fast food. “But what if I’ll get into trouble for this?”

“Nonsense, schatje. Healthy mind, healthy body,” he replied with a grin, feeding you a fry. “Besides, if someone scolds you for it, I’ll just say that I forced you to eat it.”

You savoured the taste of the burger, feeling a sense of normalcy return, even if just for a moment. “This is the best medicine ever,” you said between bites.

Joost laughed. “Better than my forehead kisses?”

“Hmm, it’s a close call,” you teased, leaning in for another kiss.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Eventually, you got sick of how drowsy all the pain medication made you. From then on, you refused them, secretly wishing that it meant that they would discharge you sooner if you could prove that you were recovering quickly.

You wouldn’t admit it in front of any of the nurses or doctors, but you were suffering. Your incision stung, your head was throbbing, and your back was starting to become sore from always lying in the same position. Of course, Joost saw through your spiel right away.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call a nurse?” Joost asked tentatively, not bearing to see you suffer so much.

“No, I’m fine,” you insisted. “Can you distract me a little?”

Joost didn’t need to hear that twice, quickly fishing his phone out of his pocket and facetiming his friend and producer Tantu. (wouldn't be a albino-notes fic if i didn't include my mans <3)

“What’s uuuup?” Tantu said, waving to the camera. He was sitting in his usual spot, which was his desk. “Hey, Y/N, how are you feeling?”

“Not good,” you managed to get out, clutching your bandage, hoping that would stop the burning sensation.

“Uh, Teun, why don’t you DJ for us a bit?” Joost intervened.

“Of course,” he laughed, switching to his back camera, revealing his digital audio workstation on his computer. “Ready?”

“Let’s go,” you said with a weak smile. He clicked on a button and soon a melody could be heard which you quickly made out to be The Winner Takes It All by ABBA, one of your favourite songs, but there was something different to it. As the first verse progressed, the bass got louder and quicker. As the chorus began, the song progressed into a Gapperpop remix.

“Oh my god.” You laughed. “I can’t believe you guys butchered my fave.”

“Ouch,” Joost objected jokingly, “and nuh-uh, Tantu butchered your fave, not me.”

You shook your head, laughing, but you had to admit that it helped. For a moment, you forgot all about your pain.

“That’s not everything. Show her the other thing we worked on,” Joost ordered, chuckling.

“Alright,” Tantu laughed, opening another file. “You better prepare your compliments for this one, Y/N, ‘cause this right here is the real thing.”

You let out a chuckle, suspense building up inside of you as you watched as Tantu clicked on the same button as before, starting the track. The song began with a classic Hip Hop beat, which made you suspect that they had made another remix, but then you heard Joost’s voice.

Joost Klein and Y/N in the hospital together

Het eten hier is niet erg lekker (the food here isn't very tasty)

Of course I am not leaving your side

Say “blijf bij me” (stay with me), couldn’t leave even if I tried!

“Oh my God,” you laughed, clutching your bandage as the way your stomach contracted sent sharp spikes of discomfort to your incision. “This is brilliant. When’d you even make it?”

Joost laughed. “Hey, I had a lot of time to kill while you got surgery, okay?”

“Honestly, I think we should put this on your new album, man,” Tantu said, grinning. “Add a couple of adlibs from Y/N and the fans are gonna eat it up.”

“Best I can do is a couple of groans and moans from how much my wound just hurt from laughing my ass off,” you joked, even though the silly song by Joost and his friend had successfully managed to cheer you up.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Finally, the day of your discharge arrived. Joost was diligently typing out everything the doctor said in his Notes app, determined to remember all the instructions so he could best care for you when you got home. Then, Joost helped pack up your belongings, including the Minion plushie you had grown surprisingly fond of.

Once you got settled into your apartment, your boyfriend made sure you always took your medications on time, drove you to your follow-up appointment, and most importantly, took as many naps with you as you both possibly could.

Doctor-mandated rest didn’t seem so bad when Joost was spooning you from behind, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder blade and whispering, “I love you,” as you slowly drifted off to sleep. The warmth of his embrace, the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat, and the gentle caress of his words made each moment of recovery a bit more bearable.

One evening, as you lay together on the couch, wrapped in one of Joost’s oversized hoodies, you looked up at him. “You know, I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

He smiled, his eyes filled with love. “One day you’re gonna realise that you’re stronger than you think. But I’m glad I could be there for you.”

You snuggled closer, placing your hand on the nape of his neck. “I love you, Joost.”

“Ik hou ook van jou, mijn lieve meisje,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You know, I keep having to think about the first time you told me about your illness.”

You furrowed your brows. “You do?”

He nodded. There was a pained expression on his face. “It broke my heart to see you so afraid of my reaction. Did you really think I was gonna walk away if I knew?”

Your throat closed up. All you managed to get out was, “Well… yeah?”

“Oh schatje, I’m so sorry you felt this way,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“To be honest, I still don’t get why you would willingly put up with all of this,” you muttered, averting your gaze in embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me,” he ordered. When you looked back into his mesmerizing ocean blue eyes, there was nothing but love to be seen in them. “I fell in love with you, illness or not. In sickness or health, am I right?”

You smiled. “We’re not even married, though.”

“You mean not yet, liefje,” Joost corrected you, humming against your forehead as he left one more kiss there.

[llittletingoddess]

New James edit today or no James at all for a week.

Told ya I hate being Virgo...

[seiwas]

shouto dresses like this in the assistant!reader au because he is a man dressed BY women FOR women (aka you’ve helped curate his style over the years 🥺)

[verocitea]

Gonna try to make “if you can’t draw it good, just draw it bad then” my motto for the rest of this year, because my perfectionism is kind of being my biggest hater creatively right now.

[northern-passage]

one thing i find really difficult about navigating the IF space is the direct line of contact between readers and authors. we share the same space, and i think that plays a big part in this weird blurred line we have in this community and overall lack of boundaries.

for a lot of people this is a fun hobby and while i personally try to keep it... semi-professional most of the time, it's easy to get wrapped up in having fun on tumblr (or the forums, or reddit, wherever it is that you mainly post/interact) and have a lot of personal interactions with both readers and authors alike - which is fun! i like it more often than not, but i also think that's why a lot of comments in this space can end up being really entitled, over-familiar, and inappropriate.

it's no secret that most authors get really weird messages on here, and while this is also a problem on social media at large and not just specific to IF tumblr, it is still definitely a big problem in this community.

and to be clear i'm not saying that you can't be friendly with authors or readers (i've become friends with a handful of readers myself) and i definitely don't mean to imply that there needs to be a huge divide between us; that's silly - again, most authors are readers, most readers are authors, we’re just people on the internet sharing the same space. but all of us deserve to have our boundaries respected. this is my story, and we are strangers. as a general rule of thumb: if you wouldn't say it out loud to someone you just met, you probably shouldn't be saying it to a stranger online. especially anonymously.

[wereh0gz]

Thinking abt a werewolf sonic and vampire shadow au

Shadow is EXTREMELY dramatic abt being a vampire to the point of even dressing like a stereotypical movie vamp with a cape and everything. And isolating himself bc he can't let others see his "monstrous form" (he just has sharper and longer fangs and looks kind of ill)

Meanwhile sonic is with all his friends letting them give him chin and ear scritches stomping his foot on the ground and wagging his tail like the big ol' doggy he is

Sonic is one of the few ppl who visits shadow during the day when he can't come out and likes to keep him company, much to his dismay. Sonic even lets shadow feed on him occasionally (by biting his arm not his neck. Idk I always found that weird. Also less risk of serious injury) when shadow hasn't been able to get enough to eat

In return shadow watches over him when he goes feral werewolf mode (he isn't like a bloodthirsty monster but he does lose braincells when becoming a funny doggy. Shadow's just making sure he doesn't do anything stupid in his increased impulsivity)

That's all I've got really just wholesome halloween monster schenanigans

[spock-smokes-weed]

four cops were killed in my city and the fucking president of the united states is coming down to visit with the families

and like I'm not one to celebrate the death of someone, death is death and I don't think those cops should have died, but it is infuriating how every piggy who dies is valorized and it's painted as such a horrible tragedy, so much so that the president feels the need to show up for the families.

all of this while the CMPD are currently on college campuses beating the shit out of peaceful protesters. it's so fucking frustrating to see the local media stop and wail over the death of four cops while there is crickets over the police beating on college kids.

it's just so obvious that cops lives matter more that normal citizens and it just makes me so fucking angry. and I don't like being this angry. but seeing Joe FUCKING Biden crawl out of his hole to comfort the family of these cops while he's actively enabling genocide in gaza makes me so angry I want to vomit blood

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

stumbled across a ballad of songbirds and snakes critique video and I couldn't even watch it because the person so did not get what the book was doing and saying and the comments were complaining about the unnecessary romance when it's super obvious it's not intended to be a romance. suzanne collins is, yet again, ahead of her time because I remember the hate mockingjay got when it came out for killing prim and having katniss vote for new hunger games when those plot points are crucial and are meant to act as a commentary

[sc3n3kitt3h]

doodles !!!!

[foolishnpd]

hmmm I've noticed that a lot of my I'm The Best thoughts come out when I'm angry/upset. I guess superiority is a coping mechanism? it's like a way to comfort and bring myself back up to a good level again

[soggypotatoes]

I see so many posts abt loving to be a hater but honestly!! I love to be a lover!! it's so fun!! I love loving songs that I don't think are particularly "good", songs that are unpopular in my circles that my friends make fun of me for liking.. I love enjoying the company of people others don't like, even if I know I wouldn't like them if I were rationally making a decision about it.. I think all people are interesting to talk to, and I love that! I love finding things to like in everything. idk man. people see this attitude as dumb or naive, but I'm fully aware of everything bad in the world. I just find life a lot easier to live if I love everything I can

[digitalgirls]

why is it that every time someone shows interest in me i immediately lose self confidence when it should be the opposite

[dormont]

THIS GAME HAS SOME FUCKING NERVE MAKING THE LAST SHOT BE OF HERO SCREAMING AND CRYING AND THROWING UP

[robinsnest2111]

"I don't deserve to live-!"

girl, don't make me recall my own self hating shit thoughts 😭

[niishi]

the amount of times I've been (rudely) made fun of for using 3in1 makes me so mad every time I think about it.... bc like........ predatory capitalism will get you around every corner. I can't just be myself and be happy about it. tv, books, ads, family, friends, etc. everywhere you go. everyone's been brainwashed into thinking buying stuff and doing what rich ppl say makes you better. like idk I'm sorry but I TRULY do not care about materialism or looks. attractiveness to me, comes from confidence and a kind personality. it has nothing to do with how anyone looks, or what they buy and have. doing stuff to make YOURSELF happy is amazing. doing stuff to make a point to others that you're better than them.... idk man... seems like a waste of time trying to fill a pot that has a leak and could fully break at any time.

[peapod20001]

Whenever smth I say or do gets misinterpreted I do this in my head