#And this is not me saying that mental health treatment is all bad. It’s not. The key is about consent and autonomy and community care.

[oswildin]

Just to add generally so everyone is clear and aware…

A “friend” who acts like this is not a friend.

A “friend” who sends unsolicited pictures of their SH or claims they will take their own life because of you is not your friend. They’re a manipulator.

A “friend” who constantly tries to guilt trip and make out like you’re the bad guy, is not a friend.

I also want to add that these instances don’t always have to be so harrowing, direct or dramatic in nature. A “friend” could also use subtler language/techniques to try and guilt trip you:

Deliberately misinterpreting someone’s words and twisting them to make it seem like they have upset them or offended them. For example:

Person A: “Please don’t do/say that.”

Person B: “Why would you say that to me? Am I not allowed to feel this way? Are you trying to invalidate my feelings?”

Person A: “That’s not what I meant, I said don’t do/say that because I care.”

Person B: “No, you don’t. You’re invalidating my feelings and my mental health. Don’t tell me what to do.”

It’s clear Person A is asking Person B to not do something rash or speak badly about themselves. However, Person B immediately turns around and snaps at them, accusing them, trying to make them feel bad and twist the narrative to make it seem like Person A was trying to invalidate or minimise their feelings. Everything is a personal attack to them. They will make you feel responsible for their own emotions, like it’s on you to make them feel better or listen to their struggles but not be allowed to take a break, suddenly hounding you when you do go quiet on them.

This “friend” may also try to hold certain things over you, whether they be true or not, and this is to get you to stay, as evidenced in this latest statement.

This “friend” may suddenly go silent with you to make you chase after them. They may use the silent treatment to ‘punish’ you.

This “friend” may try to sabotage your other friendships/possible friendships by telling you to block others who have wronged them and be upset when you don’t do it, immediately accusing you of being on ‘the other side’ to try and make you feel guilty for not doing as they say.

Unfortunately, I have witnessed and been victim of manipulation and emotional abuse first hand in my life, so I sadly can spot the behaviour and pattern, even through a computer screen.

(I also researched some general behavioural psychology independently for a time, so I have an understanding of certain techniques and why people do them.)

If your “friend” ever makes you feel guilty, like the bad guy, or like they are your responsibility, they are not your friend and I would advise you stay very clear. You don’t owe anyone an explanation, not them, not anyone else who asks. You can cut ties with someone for your own health whenever you want in these situations, because this is not a normal two way street friendship. Do not let them make you feel bad for ‘abandoning’ them, you aren’t, you are just putting your own mental health first.

I am not stating the “friend” does not struggle with mental health issues and doesn’t have their own problems, but just because they do, it doesn’t mean they get to take it out on others and make them feel bad. Their subconscious thought is typically: ‘I feel bad so others have to too.’ Of course, this is all regarding to this behaviour being repetitive. Anyone is capable of the is behaviour when under strain or bad mental health; but when it is constant and the behaviours are exhibited over and over again with no evidence of change or self improvement and accountability… That’s when it becomes a concern.

I’m 26, and I know what is healthy and what is not when it comes to friendships. This is not healthy.

Today, we'll be focusing on one of LLD's main victims in the past. Official-President-Loki was among the many that asgards-trickster-god harassed, most likely coming from a place of jealousy. LLD seems to go for popular users (not just on Tumblr, unfortunately) and spread lies across their page, when they're not guilting and baiting their own death to the user themselves. It's truly nerve-wracking (if not a little embarrassing) the extent they're willing to go to try to ruin a person's life.

The following is evidence of LLD's harassment toward Official-President-Loki. Please stay safe, folks!

[aro-culture-is]

quick note - this blog is gonna be sparse again for at least this week. trying new medications and tbh initial side effects are not super pleasant + actual effects build up. as a result: currently as if unmedicated for mental health, with anxiety+ side effect, extra fatigue, dizziness, and fatigue. it's uh, sure something.

totally recognize that most of y'all know we're absent at times due to health things, just wanted to give a heads up that this one is at least anticipated.

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

Just! Yeah! Can we pls not fall into the ~old fashioned mental health care was so fucked up bc they did horrible things to NORMAL WOMEN, (not just freaks who deserve institutionalized torture)~ trap like pls I am begging!! Modern psychiatric care is also rooted in the same saneist and ableist annd racist and misogynist bullshit, just dressed up in a nicer outfit. Institutionalization is incarceration, and people suffer enormously in psychiatric hospitals at the hands of horrible power hungry staff and also approved treatments every single day. Autonomy in mental health care is not a given, and we need to be very careful about assuming that non consensual torture does not happen anymore in mental hospitals. I think it’s important we discuss it, and I am eager to hear/see more of what Taylor has to say (I think her bringing it up is suuuper reasonable and a very ripe creative world for her to explore so I’m not saying nobody should talk about it). Like. Just. The assumptions. Pls. Can’t believe this is a post I’m making on my swiftie tumblr but here we are!

[our-lady-of-mcr]

everytime i think im done ranting i remember something else LMFAO this one is extra long i hit tag limit god mf damn

[madigoround]

Something happened at work and I don’t even have the words to ramble about how upset I am about it I just feel so defeated and I don’t know what I can even do or why someone in a position of power would choose to do this to someone like as human beings

[theodore-lasso]

.

[thethingything]

whenever we go through a particularly rough patch, there always seems to be this point shortly afterwards once we start trying to recover and get our shit together where it's really hard to tell how well we're doing because in some ways it looks like we're doing way better but in others it looks like we're doing really badly.

usually it's some combination of being more organised and doing better at keeping up with chores and catching up with stuff we'd been struggling to keep on top of, and even doing a lot better at using various coping mechanisms, but then also getting really fucking depressed and having flashbacks and nightmares and panic attacks and random breakdowns and more (dissociative) seizures than usual and just generally having symptoms that make it seem like our mental health is much worse.

like obviously during the rough patch we also have a fuckload of the same symptoms because of our mental health being shit, but during that it's constant and we can't keep up with basic shit and it's clear that we're struggling, whereas in the weird period afterwards we look like we're doing great from an outside perspective and seem to flip back and forth between feeling like we're doing great and feeling like the world is ending.

I'm guessing it's something to do with how brains process stuff because if you go through something traumatic that's not just gonna go away once it's over, but good god I would like it to be easier.

anyway we're currently in that weird recovery period and we also have just over a month before we hit a wall of anniversaries of stuff that always fucks us up and that usually comes with us having to work on processing shit and like, I'll put in the work to process and deal with that, but god I hate how much work it actually is just to try and manage our mental health and I hate that I spent all summer going "I am being actively traumatised and can't do anything about it and I'm gonna have to deal with processing all of this later" and sure enough now I'm having to deal with processing it

[kaijutegu]

Today I was talking with my mom about why seeing an alligator is fundamental to my mental health. At first she laughed but I got her to listen and she gets it now. My psychiatrist and I call this the alligator litmus test, and it works really well for making decisions about my treatment. I bring this up because perhaps there is something in your life that you can use in a similar fashion.

I have severe major depressive disorder, and I treat this depression with medication. I've been on meds for about... seven years now, and sometimes we have to mess with them. But sometimes the emotional part of the depression is just super bad and there's something underneath that needs to be addressed. When we are figuring this out, my psychiatrist says to take one alligator and call her in the morning.

See, no matter how bad I'm feeling, seeing an alligator almost always cheers me up in the moment. (This works with other large crocodilians, too- they gotta be big, it doesn't work with caimans. I don't know why.) I can't look at their goofy toofers and beautiful eyes and bumpy hides and not be a little wowed by them. Millions of years of evolution have led to this amazing creature and they are completely unbothered by me. Almost all of the time, they make me feel happy. Or maybe I'll feel sad for some unspecified reason. Maybe I'll get worried about the ecosystem or something- but invariably, I will FEEL.

Unless, of course, it's my brain chemistry. If I can experience an alligator and not feel anything- not happy, not sad, just numb- there's something wrong and we should talk about adjusting my meds. Usually with a little tweaking I'm back to my very functional medicated baseline in quick order- instead of wasting time with coping skills and such alone when what I really need is brain chemicals, it's a much quicker way to communicate what's going on with me. At the same time, it also helps me know when the coping skills ARE likely to work without changing up my meds, or when there's something I need to work through with some help.

It's a pretty solid test. Might not work for anyone else on the planet, but it works great for me!

[searchingwardrobes]

I have been debating sharing this for some time, but with the new year weight loss ads amping up, I feel it's something I have to say. I'm worried for people's health.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you probably already know about people taking the diabetic drug ozempic for weight loss. You've probably heard the debates about the ethics of taking needed drugs away from diabetes patients and maybe even the side effect of "ozempic face." However, there is one side effect of taking these drugs that, in my opinion, people are not being warned about.

If you carefully pay attention to the television ads, you will hear them mention "pancreatitis" as a possible side effect. If you're like me a decade ago, that word probably means nothing to you. Let me warn you, however, it is no minor thing. My husband suffered from chronic pancreatitis for five agonizing years. The pain is beyond comprehension. Doctors who specialize in the pancreas describe it as the worst pain a human can endure. There is no actual cure. Little is understood about the disease, so treatment is difficult. Doctors who understand it are few and far between. It took my husband forever to get diagnosed. He went through multiple surgeries and procedures, but nothing worked. He had to go on an extremely limiting diet. If he varied from it in any way, he would have an attack. The only way to recover from an attack was to not eat at all for days, then slowly add in broth and jello. Did he lose weight? Yes. As a matter of fact, one day he stepped out of the shower, and I burst into tears at the sight of him. He was skin and bones - I could count every rib. Was it worth it to be thin? If you even ask that question, I'm concerned for your mental health.

They couldn't figure out exactly why my husband got pancreatitis. At that time, they thought only alcoholics and drug addicts got pancreatitis. This made it difficult to get compassionate medical care, unfortunately. Now they know that prescription medication (particularly diabetic medication) and high cholesterol can also cause it. Then there is another group - where they just don't know. But you better believe I would hesitate to take any medication that could cause pancreatitis. I would weigh my options carefully to assess if it was worth the risk. In my opinion, weight loss is not worth that risk.

My concern has been heightened seeing the Hers commercials for these drugs (under different names, but rest assured, it is the same thing). These commercials brag that you can get these drugs from Hers with just a simple virtual call, no questions asked. I wonder if people are fully aware of the risks of these drugs. I also wonder if we even know all of the risks yet. I also fear that the culture around these drugs could develop into an us vs. them mentality. That if it's so easy to be thin, why wouldn't you be? And some are getting dangerously thin on these drugs.

I know some diabetics who are on these drugs, and necessarily so. They tell me that it causes nausea when they eat. That's why they don't eat much. Again, that doesn't sound like a pleasant way to live. If you need it to regulate your blood sugar, that's one thing. But if you don't? Why would you do this to yourself?

My husband is now healed of pancreatitis. It was a miracle. You may not believe in that sort of thing, but I'm telling you, there is no other explanation. We had exhausted every medical solution, then the pandemic hit. We were concerned because hospitals were only taking life or death cases. What if he had a bad attack and needed an iv of pain meds? What would we do? Weeks passed - no pain. A month passed - no pain. Six weeks passed - no pain. He decided to grill a steak - something he hadn't been able to even take a nibble of in 5 years. I watched him take a bite, holding my breath. Nothing. He ate the whole thing. No pain. Five years later, still no pain. The doctors can't explain it, either.

So our story has a happy ending. Not everyone else's does. I hope people take the time to read this. If you do, please, please share it. I don't want anyone suffering needlessly.

[facultativeactivity]

Man, Star Wars has such a great lore, I wish more of it was in the movies

"the jedi don't have therapists-"

jedi philosophy, and in particular the practices and teachings that jedi were expected to implement in their everyday lives, was therapy. dialectical behavior therapy (dbt), to be exact. anyone who's familiar with dbt knows where i'm already going with this, but like genuinely look up the basic tenets of dbt and it's identical with what the jedi were doing.

dbt, to put it simply, is a specific therapy technique that was designed for ptsd and past trauma. it's pretty different from traditional talk therapy. it combines a few different environments (individual, group, etc.), recognizing that no single format of treatment can stand alone.

the key focuses of dbt include:

emotional regulation- understanding, being more aware of, and having more control over your emotions

mindfulness- regulating attention and avoiding anxious fixation on the past or future

interpersonal effectiveness- navigating interpersonal situations

distress tolerance- tolerating distress and crises without spiraling and catastrophizing

i'm sure it's already clear from that list alone how much the jedi teachings correspond with the goals of dbt. the jedi value, teach, and practice the following:

identifying and understanding emotions

mindfulness and living in the present

compassion, diplomacy, and conflict resolution (on interpersonal scales, not just planetary or galactic)

accepting and tolerating certain levels of distress or discomfort (particularly mental, such as discomfort at the thought of losing a loved one to death)

idk man seems almost as if jedi mental health practices and dbt are two sides of a completely identical coin. (fun fact: both star wars and dbt are products of the 70s.)

and guess what? dbt was specifically designed as a treatment for borderline personality disorder. remember that one? or, if you don't, maybe you remember a specific character, the one who was literally used as an example by my professor in my undergrad psych class when she was teaching us about bpd?

tldr: simply existing within the jedi community, practicing jedi teachings, surrounded by a support network of other jedi of all life stages, was the therapy for anakin. even when viewed through a modern lens. it was even, more specifically, the precise type of therapy that has developed in modern times to treat the exact types of mental issues he was struggling with.

[destinygoldenstar]

”Gangle is a sociopath in Episode 4. She’s the reason things went wrong and everyone hated their experience and her.”

And to that I say…

YES. YOU ARE CORRECT.

She does do a lot of messed up stuff in the episode. Being bossy, disregarding her workers health and feelings, outright enslaving Jax and attempting to brainwash him… yeah it’s not good.

Even if you hate Jax and think he deserves it, you gotta admit Gangle didn’t have to be this cruel about it.

”���and that makes Gangle a villain.”

THAT is the part I have to respectfully disagree with.

Gangle is very sympathetic. She is treated terribly by everyone throughout the show, and when she finds someone that does treat her well, she questions how genuine it is.

There’s also her clear mental disorders, bipolar, borderline personality, autism (that one technically isn’t a disorder), depression, whichever one you see and view it as.

She came from an environment that not only crushed her, but told her she had to wear a mask to function. She’s tried to fix it so she can function in the circus too, but nothing has worked. Because sometimes it’s not that simple. Sometimes treatments don’t work for a person. And it’s extremely hard to find something that works.

So I, as well as others, sympathize with Gangle, and her behavior is very well explained.

BUT, THERE’S STILL NO EXCUSE.

Yes she’s sympathetic, but that shouldn’t excuse her actions at all.

That’s why there’s ONE LITTLE THING that prevents me from saying Gangle is a bad person.

It’s NOT because she’s sympathetic.

It’s because SHE TAKES ACCOUNTABILITY.

She was given the opportunity to pin the blame on someone else. But she chose not to.

She took accountability that she was responsible, messed up, and confessed that she broke.

And she gets consequences for it by having her score docked.

It really PROVES that she is capable of acknowledging when she’s in the wrong.

And she says this AGAIN by confessing she messed up and hurt the people around her.

And the story doesn’t excuse her, either. It’s not brushing off what she did as a joke and nothing else.

Zooble and Pomni both consider what she’s going through and offer help.

But neither of them ever excuse what Gangle does or coddle her.

Both of them just offer help when they see she needs it. (Gangle just shows more appreciation to Zooble cause she knew Zooble longer)

Regardless if Jax and Ragatha forgive Gangle or not, there’s people that do.

They don’t help because it’s ‘not as bad as you think it is’. They help because they sympathize and understand.

That’s a major difference. I would look back at the scenes I screenshot here to understand what I’m talking about.

[honeybuckin10]

Hospital Beds - a Hawks x fem!doctor!reader One Shot

Summary: Hawks heals more than his wings after the Paranormal Liberation War attacks [wc: 4.6k].  

Warnings: mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of character death, descriptions of wounds, swearing, angst, fluff, comfort, potentially unpopular Hawks opinions. characters slightly aged up.

a/n: started writing thinking this was gonna be cute and flirty, ended up taking a kind of serious turn (still otherwise cute and flirty with happy-ish ending). might do a spicier part 2 at some point. as always, don’t be a ghost reader pls and ty <3

Hawks’ eyes were focused on the window, lost in thought. There was a crowd gathered outside Central Hospital. From the muffled voices through the glass, it didn’t sound like they were there for support. He felt the span of his back against the hospital bed, a sensation both foreign and grounding. The space where his wings once were stung slightly at the contact, despite the heavy nerve blockers he assumed were administered earlier.

“Back again so soon?”

You broke him from his trance as you shut the door behind you. Your eyes immediately scanned his monitors, a pleasant smile never leaving your face.

“At some point, we really do have to get your heart rate checked out.”

He didn’t actually have a high heart rate. But the machines he was hooked up to always went crazy whenever he got sight of you. He was too embarrassed to say anything, though he wondered if you noticed why his charts never reflected any underlying conditions when his vitals were checked by others.

“You’re not a very good patient, you know. Though now that you can’t talk, perhaps you’ll actually listen.”

He tried to respond, but quickly remembered he couldn’t open his jaw, not very much at least. No sound came out of the small gap between his lips.

You had treated Hawks on several occasions now, usually after incidents involving fire. Most were minor. He’d come in and joke that he’d done it on purpose to see you. You’d roll your eyes, every now and then you’d even dignify him with an actual response: ‘nice try’. But his injuries now were unlike anything you’d ever seen. You knew it was bad when he didn’t try flirting with you. Then again, it’s not like he could even if he wanted to.

Your tone was light and breezy, but the furrow in your brow betrayed your façade.

“I’m only joking, of course. But in all seriousness, your trachea was severely damaged from the smoke inhalation during the attack. Fortunately you narrowly avoided respiratory failure, but you won’t be able to use your voice for a couple of weeks. Lucky for you, technology has advanced enough that you won’t have to carry around a notepad everywhere you go. We recommend using the voice app on your phone.”

You handed him his cell phone, when Hawks noticed a plastic bag of personal items behind you with unknown origins. You followed his eyes to see what was distracting him.

“Oh yes, a young man named Tokoyami brought you a change of clothes and some other things you may need while you were out. Said he was your mentee.” You paused, searching for some kind of reaction. You thought it might brighten his spirits. His eyes widened somewhat, but there was still no smile. “It’s clear you’ve had a big impact on him.”

Tokoyami. His mentee. A child. More memories of the battlefield came flooding back. Twice. Dabi. He knew you hoped that bringing up his pupil would put him at ease. But Hawks was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt that he had put the student is such a dangerous situation.

“I also spoke with Dermatology. They informed me that sixteen percent of your body is covered with third degree burns, another twenty percent second degree, and twenty-two percent first degree. Given the severity and location of the burns, you’re also at risk of developing contractures that could compress your airways in the future so we’ll need to keep a close eye on that. Once your wraps come off, they’ve prescribed you a topical treatment that you’re to use three times a day until everything is healed. You’ll also be started on an oral antibiotic immediately, which you’re to take for three weeks.”

He attempted to use his new voice.

“What about wings?” You took a deep breath. Not good.

“I’m getting to that. I’m going to adjust your bed a little first. Are you able to lean forward?” He nodded as the bed rose up and the angle of his back moved more upright. He winced, unable to hide his discomfort but did as you instructed.

“I’m sorry, I know this is painful for you. I’m going as quickly as I can.” You talked through how you were examining his dressings, that his biggest risk at the moment was that the wounds would get infected, and that the dressings would need to be changed again before the end of the day.

“I think they will grow back. But it will be painful and it will be slow. You must be patient during this time and you’ll have to stay out of the field for a while. I’d recommend taking a well-deserved break until they’re fully healed.”

Bedrest sounded like Hawks’ personal hell. He only nodded his head. He didn’t have the energy to protest.

“You’ll also need to go through a psychiatric evaluation before rejoining field.”

Hawks let out a muffled groan. You let out an exasperated laugh.

“Really, you didn’t make a peep when I was examining your open wounds but you draw the line at psych eval?” You watched as he typed out his next thought.

“Waste of time.” Your eyes softened.

“First of all, this is standard procedure. Endeavor, Mirko, Eraserhead, all those UA students are going to have to get one too. Second, even if it wasn’t, what you – what you’ve all gone through would cause even the strongest soldier some kind of stress. We want to make sure that you’re all in the right headspace so that you’re the most prepared you can be going against whatever this enemy is. You have to take care of yourself first before you can take care of others.”

Hawks sat there a moment in silence, absorbing your words. Wondering whether you would be so sympathetic and kind if you knew the truth. He began typing.

“I killed someone,” the unnatural voice said. It came from him, but it didn’t feel like him. It echoed against the walls of the sterile room, void of emotion.

You pulled a chair next to his bed so that you were slightly below his eye level.

“I heard. That must be a lot to carry.”

“You hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m a bad person.”

“You’re not.” You paused, choosing your next words carefully for the fragile hero. “I don’t know what your world is like. I wasn’t there so I don’t know exactly what happened. But I do know that we are both in the business of saving lives, albeit in different ways. My guess is you made a split second decision on what was in the mission’s best interest to save the lives of your colleagues and ultimately the lives of civilians. Nobody has a crystal ball to know whether that was the best or right choice. But it was a life or death situation, and you did the best you could in the moment. It’s natural to feel remorse and guilt, but you can’t let it debilitate you for the rest of your life either.”

What right did you have to comment on such things?

“You’ve never killed someone,” he countered.

“I have. In my OR. There are some people that can’t be saved, no matter how hard you try.”

“I think he was a good person,” he typed, wondering if that negated everything you just said.

“Good people do bad things all the time. It doesn’t make them bad people.” He sighed, swallowing the searing pain as harsh air passed through his lungs. You watched closely as the hero studied his bandaged hands, refusing to make eye contact. “For now, the best thing you can do for yourself and Japan is rest. We need you.”

He sat with your words. It didn’t dawn on him until long after you left the room that you weren’t just talking about Twice.

-

As you warned, the days passed at a glacial pace. He didn’t enjoy how quickly he acclimated to talking through his phone. He had growing pains from the nubs of his wings that began to poke through his skin. Each day brought a revolving door of doctors and healers and other specialists, by whom he was constantly poked and prodded and observed. Hawks hated every minute of it. Almost every minute.

You came in daily to monitor the progress of his wings. It was the most painful part of his recovery. But you entered his room with a smile and sunny disposition, like you weren’t about to inflict torture on him for thirty minutes. The air hurt his exposed back when you removed the old bandages. It stung when you applied antiseptic to cleanse the area. It felt like he was going to pass out when you ran your gloved fingers along the growth that was coming in. He felt all the more pathetic laying on his stomach as you did your work.

But you did your best to distract him with bad jokes and hospital gossip. Not that you had to put in that much effort. Your presence was distracting enough.

On the fourth day after the battle, you finally got a chuckle out him. What’s black and white and black and white and black and white? He shrugged as you applied ointment. A penguin falling down the stairs. You quickly realized that your methods may have been faulty as his laugh devolved into a coughing fit, his lungs still weak.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Try to remember your box breathing.”

He held his breath at the top of his inhale. Four, three, two, one. Exhale. Four, three, two, one. He repeated this for a minute before his breath finally returned to normal. He gave a thumbs up. I’m ok.

Relief washed over your face. “I’m sorry I made you choke on air. But glad to see you in better spirits today.” He began typing.

“I’m always in good spirits when you’re around.” You bit back a smile no one could see as you started redressing the incoming wings.

“Ah, there he is. Yeah, you’re definitely starting to feel better.”

“Can’t you tell? I’m the pinnacle of health.” The gallows humor was hard to miss despite the monotone robotic voice, the statement in stark contrast to his fully bandaged and hospitalized body.

“You will be, soon enough.” You finished applying new bandages. “That’s it for me today, unless there’s anything else you want to share.”

“Capricorn. 27. Single –“

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” You pulled off your disposable gloves, turning to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “I already knew that from your chart. Nice try,” you teased.

“Didn’t know you were stalking me.”

“Goodbye Hawks, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew your faux sternness was hardly believable, as you caught him wink before you closed the door.

-

Two days later you bumped into Hawks and Best Jeanist in the hallway. You broke into a wide grin when you noticed the two heroes, pleasantly surprised to see just how much progress your patient had made in such a short time.  

“Good morning gentlemen.”

“Good morning Dr. y/l/n,” Best Jeanist said with a small bow. Hawks was visibly confused about his formality.

“Please, there’s no need for that. It’s just good to see you back in the land of the living.” Best Jeanist helped fill in the gaps for his perplexed cohort.

“Hawks, Dr. y/l/n was part of the team who developed the drugs to put me in a temporary death-like state to convince Dabi that you’d killed me. We can thank her for setting us up for success to get you undercover.” Hawks knew he missed out on a lot during his covert mission, but had no idea how many parties were involved outside the ordinary network of hero agencies and the Commission. You blushed at the praise.

“It was nothing, really. You guys are the ones doing all the hard work.”

“Truly, we are in your debt,” Best Jeanist piled on. You weren’t used to so much flattery and you had a job to do so you tried to end the conversation.

“Anyways, I have to get to my next patient. Jeanist, keep an eye on your partner. It’s good for him to walk around a little bit but make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” He gave another bow.

“I’m right here,” Hawks typed, unamused by the turn of the exchange.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Hawks,” you yelled over your shoulder before disappearing down the next corridor.

The session later that day was nothing out of the ordinary. The nubs sprouting from his back had formed into tiny but well-defined wings and he was able to sit up during exams as opposed to lying face down on the hospital bed. All signs of positive progress.

He watched wistfully as you documented your observations, swaying his legs off the side of the bed like a child.

“They’re coming in quite nicely, I’m really happy with where you’re at.”

“Great what do I need to sign to get out of here?”

“Ahhh not so fast. You have to stay at least another two days and even once you’re discharged, you most certainly are not ready to return to active duty.” He pouted underneath his respirator mask.

“You’re no fun.”

“Sorry, just doing my job.” You proceeded to check his other vitals before heading out. First you took off his mask to check his lymph nodes, pressing your fingers firmly against the outer side of his jaw, moving down his neck. He was acutely aware of the lone thin layer of latex that separated you. He couldn’t stop the warmth that crept up his face, thankful that most of it was still covered. His flushed cheeks may have been under wraps, but he couldn’t hide his quickened pulse from you. You put on your stethoscope and instructed him to breathe deeply a few times, the cold metal circle moving from his upper back, to lower back, to his chest.  

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Your lungs are sounding better but your heart’s beating like crazy.”

He feigned surprise, which was much easier when he didn’t have to control his own voice. “Really? That’s odd, no one else’s said anything.”

You pulled up his chart again to check the inputs of all the other practitioners who’ve treated the hero since his arrival at Central Hospital. All values normal.

“On a scale from one to ten, how much pain are you in at this point?”

“Two or three.”

“Are you feeling nervous about anything?” He chewed his lower lip trying to think of a way to get out of this, knowing that if he said no you would run more tests which would be unnecessary and prolong his stay.

“Yes,” he lied. Kind of. He actually was a little nervous, though definitely not for the reason you likely thought. You brought your chair next to his bed again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” A loaded question.

“No.” The good thing about talking through his phone and the mask was that he could get away with saying less. Sympathetic people tended to not ask follow up questions.

“Okay. Well, you know I’m always here if you ever want to talk.” You spoke slowly, your reassuring voice laced with uncertainty. It was difficult to get a read on him when you couldn’t hear the tone of his voice or see his face. “Do you have any questions?” He nodded.

“Will you go on a date with me?” You almost choked on your own saliva. You blushed, but forced yourself to remain stoic.

“I’m very flattered, but there are strict protocols against physician-patient relationships.” Your stern message was undercut by your stammering, high pitched squeak.

“What if I promise to never get hurt again?” You tried not to smile, knowing it would only egg him on. You were failing.

“You shouldn’t be making promises you can’t keep.”

“What if I find a different doc?”

“You’ve gotten awfully good at talking through your phone,” you muttered under your breath.

“Can’t hear you.” Despite his mostly covered face, you could tell from the crinkle around his eyes that he was enjoying every moment of this interrogation.

“I-I’d have to take it up with the Board of Ethics.”

“That’s not a no.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Can I say one more thing?” You sighed, bracing yourself for whatever nonsense he was about to spew.

“I’d rather you didn’t but legally I think I have to say yes.” You watched as his thumbs frantically moved over the keyboard.

“Thank you for taking care of Best Jeanist. This operation wouldn’t’ve gotten so far without him or you.”

“Oh.” Your felt your heartbeat in your throat. “Again, just doing my job. Glad I could help.” You fiddled with some papers. “Let’s try this one more time. Do you have any other questions… about your health.”

Hawks shook his head, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Despite the fact that you wanted to scold him for the bizarre interaction, you were reassured by his pleasant disposition, one you hadn’t seen since he arrived.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

-

Tomorrow rolled around but you entered an empty sterile room, bed ready for a new patient. After a few seconds your confusion passed and you saw red.

You stormed down the hall in search for any hospital staff, until a poor resident had the unfortunate luck of being in your path.

“Where the hell is my patient?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Room 3409. Yesterday my patient was there and today the room is empty. He wasn’t ready to be discharged so where is he?”

“I-I-I don’t know ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. y/l/n, this is a hospital, not wrestlemania if you could keep it down please. And stop traumatizing the junior residents.” Hawks’ pulmonologist emerged from his office and tried to placate you. You glowered at the first young doctor as he silently excused himself from the conversation that was definitely beyond his paygrade.  

“Please tell me he got moved to a different wing.”

“I’m afraid not.” He spoke again before you could let out another outburst. “I warned him of the risks of a premature discharge, to which he insisted he was feeling fine and that those were risks he was willing to take. I had him fill out some paper work and a consent form and he left this morning.” Your nostrils flared as you silently seethed.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that so I don’t have to report you. Oh, and one more thing…” The doctor took a deep breath before proceeding, worried he may end up the subject of your wrath. “This is probably terrible timing, but – he requested to take you off his care team,” your eyes widened “…and should he be re-hospitalized that you not be involved.”

“WHAT?” You continued mumbling a string of profanities under your breath. The doctor continued slowly and calmly.

“He made it very clear it had nothing to do with the quality of care he received from you. But he uh, mentioned something about a potential conflict of interest.” He took a step back as you burned an imaginary hole through his head with your retinas. “I cannot emphasize enough how much I do not want to know any more information about this.”

“There is no more information about it because it doesn’t exist!” You wanted to scream. “Fuck him. Fuck you. Fuck this hospital. I’msosorryItakethoselasttwoback.” You stomped your foot down like a petulant child before storming off. “FUCK!”

-

By the next day you had cooled off, that is, until you saw Hawks loitering outside Endeavor’s room as you were making your rounds.

“YOU!” you boomed. Hawks’ excitement to see you was quickly replaced with fear as you approached and you were close enough that he could see the rage steaming off you.

“Hey doc,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t you ‘hey doc’ me.” You were very close to his face. He was sure he would’ve felt your breath if he didn’t have the stupid respirator mask on. For a split second he thought about taking it off but realized that would only further enrage you. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He began typing but you swatted his hand before he could answer. “Ow.”

“And you –“ Best Jeanist would be the next recipient of your verbal lashings. “You said you would keep an eye on him. Liar.”

Hawks had never seen his colleague scared before, but there was a first for everything.

“He just wanted to come for a ride-along, I promise he stayed in the car the whole time!”

“I have never been more disappointed,” you said in a low voice. Best Jeanists bowed.

“I am very ashamed and deeply regret my actions. I am sorry.” That seemed to pacify you momentarily. You returned your wrath to Hawks.

“I told you you’re not ready to return to the field. And now I hear you’re refusing to receive treatment from me? I cannot explain to you how embarrassed and insulted I am.” You allowed him time to type this time as Best Jeanist stood there as witness, desperately wishing for the floor to open below and swallow him whole.

“You’re right. I’m not ready. But this enemy is moving too quickly, time is of the essence. I’m in good enough shape that I can help off the field. I’m sorry I went against your professional judgement.” You continued to glare at him with pursed lips.

“And?”

“And I was being proactive. I’m taking you on that date.” Your face flushed immediately while the avian hero somehow remained shameless. You did your best to maintain your composure.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.” You crossed your arms defensively.

“After a stunt like this, I wouldn’t be so sure. Plus, since you’ve already taken it upon yourself to be discharged I’m not sure why you’re even here.”

“Now that we know about the Todoroki family connection to Dabi, we need to gather intel. Also need to consolidate info from those at the Jaku Hospital attack. Off-field work, if you will.” Your eyes narrowed, only to be met with undeterred playful golden irises.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But I feel the need to make it known that I’m not happy about it.” The injured hero smiled again.

“Thanks, doc.”

“Again, our sincerest apologies for the mishap.” Best Jeanist did his best to make up for his companion’s clear lack of repentance.

You only gave the heroes a parting glare as you walked away.  

The rest of the day passed, otherwise uneventful but long and exhausting. You kept a professional and pleasant face for the benefit of your patients, but it was getting hard to maintain after all you’d seen in the last seven days since the attacks. Yes, there were cases of miraculous recoveries in the face of overwhelming trauma. But far more frequent were lives that were forever altered by all that had transpired, not just for patients themselves but all the other souls connected to those individuals. The hospital was at capacity, and each bed represented not just one person but a web of lives that now had to face a new crippling reality. If you thought about it too much you could cry – which you did, in the nearest break room or supply closet if had even just two minutes between appointments. Thus, your favorite part of the day became doing paperwork in your office at the end of your shift. It was methodical and soothing, and allowed you to disassociate.

It was at that moment when you were enjoying your oasis that an intern rushed into your office, disturbing your peace.

“There’s an emergency on the top floor, you need to come quick.” You immediately got up and followed her down the hall and up the elevator, asking clarifying questions about the situation.

But when you entered the room in question, all you saw was a picnic blanket on the hospital bed, two champagne flutes, a bottle, and the number two hero. The intern shrank in the doorway.

“I’m really sorry, he said he would send me a bunch of merch if I could get you here.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” You rubbed your temples, hoping it would transport you to another dimension where you never went to medical school and thus would not be here. “You are not to accept a single thing from him, do you understand?” The intern nodded aggressively. “Now go, I’m sure you have better places to be, ideally with a patient who actually needs help.” The intern scurried away without another word.

“And you,” now turning to Hawks. “Bribing medical professionals? Super illegal.”

“Sorry.” His mischievous eyes said otherwise, clearly undeterred by your scolding. You scoffed.

“No you’re not.” He shrugged. You took a closer look at the set up. “Seems kinda wasteful, doesn’t it? You can’t even drink.”

He turned the bottle to show the label. Sparkling nonalcoholic cider. The corners of your lips tugged upwards, threatening to betray your steely exterior.

 Any semblance of a smile quickly vanished, however, when he removed his respirator mask.

“What are you –“ He spoke before you could protest or before he lost his nerves.

“I’m going to be gone for a really long time after today. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Or if I’ll be back.” He cautiously grabbed your hands. “Regardless of which it is, I really want to make sure I don’t break any promises.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when he paused. You suddenly found it hard to keep eye contact.

“This is a hospital, not the Make A Wish Foundation.” Despite your icy response, you made no effort to pull your hands away from him. He gently rolled his thumb over your knuckles, trying to memorize every ridge and crease.

Most of his face was still covered in bandages, but you liked that you could now see how his lips curved into a lopsided smirk, punctuated by laugh lines that formed around the corners of his mouth. You liked knowing that you were responsible for it. Your mind concocted imaginary circumstances of other things you could do to get him to make the same perfect expression.  Your eyes lifted to meet his when you were done daydreaming.

“I thought they were one in the same.” He was insufferable. His arms fell to his sides when you separated yourself from him. For a moment he almost looked like the defeated shell of himself that was in your care a week ago. But it was quickly washed with relief when he saw you grab the bottle.

“You are the worst patient I’ve ever had.” A satisfying *pop* echoed in the room. He knew your words were hallow, as your acquiescence was rewarded with the hero’s bright eyes and heartfelt smile that made your heart beat in time with the little bubbles that evaporated around you. You handed him a glass of cider, his fingers ghosting over yours as he took the flute from you that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not your patient anymore.”

[theforesteldritch]

My mom's going back to university to study to become a therapist and her biopsych textbook is... interesting. It straight up states that XX chromosomes=female and XY=male, no variation or exceptions, forget about the existance of monosomy or trisomy of sex chromosomes I guess let alone AIS, Swyer syndrome or de la chappelle syndrome. Oh but wait it gets worse. It later brings up intersex variations as 'exceptions that prove the rule' of bullshit binary ideas about sex and brings up some case studies, one of which is about a woman with CAIS and then proceeds to invite a debate over if she should be told the truth and that she has CAIS. Im going to fucking rip a wall apart, at least my mom has me as the context to know that that's bullshit, but what about people that just take that at face value? People that want to go on to be psychologists or therapists? They're going to fuck any intersex patients up so bad if they think it's debatable if we should be told the truth about our intersex-ness, and not only that but think its ok to surgically 'treat' us without telling us or giving any semblance of informed consent.

I'm reminded of how I read about how one intersex woman had to break into her doctor's office to steal her medical records, because she knew something was up but even as an adult they refused to tell her. And how intersex people are far more likely to have poor physical and mental health, a good chunk of that probably attributable to the fact that shit like this happens and so we're probably more likely to avoid doctors and mental health professionals and not trust them, for pretty good reason. Some of the things I went through during diagnosis and right after and some of the things they did were traumatic and violating. But at least they fucking told me I have CAIS and gave me a say in my plan for treatment/monitoring when I pushed back. The bar is so low that despite how horrible and traumatic some of that and how I was treated was, to the point where I'm still processing certain things almost 3 years later, by other standards I got incredible care. Because at least they fucking told me. That is the bare fucking minimum. No, that's lower than the minimum, or should be, but we've been mistreated by the medical system so much that telling us we're intersex at all is a step in the direction of progress.

But people, supposedly mental health professionals and doctors, want to debate if we should be granted the basic decency of knowing.

[holylikeana]

pro Ana

New page, I stalked proana profiles and half of you don’t know how to be a real Anorexic. This isn’t for the Anorexics who count calories and go for runs to be skinny because you got sad. If that’s you, you have a chance to get treatment, get better before it’s too late. I’ve been through all possible treatment. There’s nothing else to be done the doctor says. Ana will never hurt me. I have control of my body, my choices, and my mental health. A disorder doesn’t control me anymore, I choose to listen. The Anorexics who know that Ana has always been by your side and will never leave, find comfort in the thought. You must know the truth and the lies. Pro Ana isn’t just promoting unhealthy weight loss. A true Ana knows it’s much deeper. It’s pro purity, pro perfection, pro self control and discipline, pro making Ana the center of your world. She’s the “goddess” of thin. Starving isn’t self harm like cutting. That doesn’t change you or fix your problems. Starving is a privilege of entering enlightenment. Your problems are much smaller in comparison to your desire to make Ana proud. Nothing hurts you anymore. You wont just survive, Ana makes you feel alive. If you’re strong enough you will push though temporary discomfort until you reach the other side. Where you are purified, and perfectly thin. You must want it bad enough. Any doubt will make you fail. Ana never leaves those who are devoted to her. She’s kind to those who listen to her teaching. She’s strict and cold the weak. If you’re going to speak on pro Ana, know who Ana really is. If you have a problem with this lifestyle, you won’t make it as far as the rest. If you agree, may Ana bless you for she is proud.

[itsrlymine]

Hi, it's 🎸💫 anon! Before I start, how are you?

I have such a story to tell. This is the biggest breakthrough in my journey ever since knowing abt manifestation (and since I've been knowing it from middle school to high school years) I became aware of me being pure consciousness rather than inducing it (thank u for that) and I could cry out of joy, genuinely. My health is better—from dental, anemia, tmj, tinnitus, heart, etc. Those are all literally healed now. My life quality has increased, I have no more social anxiety or a fear to present infront of people, I've made my desired group of friends and even with me being naturally shy and an introvert it doesn't pose as an issue. I get equal treatment instead of being the one who gives so much or being a free therapist. I've manifested apologies from people who've wronged me. My grades are better now due to me having more of a motivational drive despite having ADHD. Everything mental is better as well—I was always getting depressed or low energy very quickly. Better self-concept, confidence, etc.

ANYWAY, I don't wanna yap TOO much. So, desired face, body, voice, talents, the whole fucking nine. I look so gorgeous I get compliments at school from my looks to wardrobe it's honestly amazing. I've joined multiple clubs which will look hella good on my report for College like forensics, dance, physics, (I used to be so bad at math but guess who. Manifestation!) My grades in school are amazing, I'm richer and can help out more people when I want to, which has always been my thing. If I could describe my life in one word I would probably say y/n. I finally feel as if my teenage years aren't wasted. On the lines of that, I've also revised lots of stuff in my life and I'm planning to do so much more. (I can't wait to go to a concert for the first time.)

BOOM SHALALAKA YES GAWDD🗣️ I am so glad I decided. I am so glad your blog was a tool for me to realize everything so quickly. Guys, when I say don't wait—don't. Just see what's behind that door, open it. Don't procrastinate, none of that shit.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mental health, abandonment issues, abuse, etc. words -> 1.4k

abstract -> insecurties sometimes need to be faced

mingi's perspective

“Mingi I know you don’t want to but it's for your health,” she said and I pouted not wanting to leave my room… “How is he that tall and a baby?” I scoffed at the tiny tiger. 

“I never complained,” Yeosang said. I knew he didn’t… but we have different treatments. “Which I’m grateful for Yeosang” she muttered and I hated that I pulled a tantrum on her but I hated the sessions with the doctor. 

“Mingi, please… you always do this when Saturday comes” she pleaded and I’ve done five sessions so far. I’ve been here for five weeks already. 

Everyone was so accepting…

Seonghwa and Hongjoong were often giving me advice and consoled me when y/n wasn’t present. While Yeosang even helped me get used to being a hybrid who didn’t do anything. San and Wooyoung just liked to mess around most of the time and even asked me to join. 

I sucked it up and followed making her smile…

I started realizing just how much everyone here adores the human girl. Even Yunho adored her in the little time he talked to her.

She was too good to be true.

I assumed one day she’d just not pick me up from the doctor… that I was a mistake for her.

“Mingi we’re gonna talk about your insecurities today,” the doctor said and I dreaded today’s session. Through the five weeks we talked about me… what I liked, and hated, did I liked my new home, and now… about my past

“What worries you the most while being under y/n’s care?” he asked and I sighed. “That I shouldn’t be there” I confessed and he didn’t show any emotion, just nodded and wrote things down. 

“Why is that?” he asked and I stayed silent until I realized he wouldn’t skip the question… “My past owner often told me how it was a mistake ever adopting me… she’d treat her other hybrid better and often threatened to leave me if I wasn’t following her orders,” I said and he nodded. 

“Do you feel that way in your new home?” he asked and I shook my head. “I feel included… all the other hybrids often give me company alongside y/n. She treats everyone equally but I worry one day it won’t be that way” I said and stopped writing to look at me. 

“Mingi you should know that voicing out your opinions isn’t a bad thing. You have a voice and if anytime you feel like you’re not being treated the way you should be then you can tell me and we’ll take you back” he said and I hated the thought of leaving my new home. 

“From the look on your face, you don’t want that. It's a good home, y/n is a good person and has had some of her hybrids for a year now. If I knew that any of those hybrids were unfit to be taken by y/n none of them would be with her” 

“How was today’s session?” she asked as we ate lunch at a cafe. It was something I really appreciated. Every session I would have my own time with her without interruptions where she’d talk to me and even praise me for going through another session.

“He analyzed my insecurities,” I said as I ate my food without looking at her. “Hmm… if you ever need to talk with me about it you can,” she said and I smiled softly

“I heard from Seonghwa that Yeosang did sessions?” I asked, finally looking at her and she nodded with a soft smile. 

“Yeosang was very difficult in the beginning… he would struggle a lot with food and concepts of… how do I say it?” she asked herself and I knew what she meant. 

“He’d be very adamant in not being indebted to someone's kindness and thought that he’d need to pay it back” she explained and I nodded. 

“He did three months there before showing signs of improvement,” she said and I was shocked. Did it take that long? “He improved a lot with food but still feels sick after eating new foods” she confessed and I nodded. 

“He’s improved so much though. And you are too!” she said with a grin clearly happy talking about hybrids. It made me smile at how enthusiastic she was. 

Yunho was right… She is a good person.

“I’ve had a question for you since you fostered me” I confessed and she looked shocked but nodded waiting for me to ask…

“Why were they taken away from you?” I asked and she looked sadly at her plate of food. Did I ask something I shouldn’t?!

“Hongjoong… he attacked me,” she said and I was shocked. Hongjoong was so protective of y/n who would constantly be behind her in public glaring at hybrids and anyone around. 

“He came from the circus as you know… he has a deep hatred for people one worse than San’s. He attacked me after thinking I would hurt him because I got too close too quickly. He grabbed my head with his claws–” She turned her head and lifted her hair so I could see the claw marks scars that she had.

“-- and threw me on the wall where I hit the wall… apparently Yeosang called Kun and soon hybrid control and EMTs came. They held them all as black-coded hybrids at first because of the attack. They were all under evaluation when I woke up and didn’t allow me to get them back after they were cleared.”

She explained and I didn’t know what to say. 

“I decided to give Hongjoong a second chance and he’s been amazing ever since, '' she added and I was so confused… “Why do you care so much?” I asked and it took her off guard. 

“Why are hybrids so important to you? Even though two attacked you? One used you… I don’t understand” I asked and she smiled. 

“Well… my parents have had hybrids since I was a kid. I grew up around them and they always taught me to be kind to everyone including hybrids. So mistreatment towards them always saddened me since I know you aren’t pets. You guys are like us just with animal genetics–” I hate how I felt my eyes burn with tears. 

“So I decided to volunteer in places like the Seoul Hybrid Rehabilitation Facility and write about my experiences as a hybrid activist. I soon also enjoy writing about hybrids. People sometimes only listen when they’re immersed in a book that tells them in detail about what they go through '' she said and I nodded. 

“I actually have a book that I wrote… my first actual novel.  About how hybrid and human roles were reversed. Humans were pets and hybrids the owners.” she said and I laughed and she smiled. 

“How about the one you’re writing now?” I asked and she chuckled. “It's named circus. I added all my hybrids in the story, even you and Yunho, '' she said and I felt my eyes widen. 

“A circus where so far six hybrids revolt and create a revolution against the government. The protagonist is named Jum a lion hybrid who is actually inspired by Hongjoong” she said and I was shocked. 

“How about everyone else?” I asked and she smiled while thinking about them and her book. 

“Seonghwa is a character named Si-woo a leopard hybrid, San and Wooyoung are inspired by cat hybrids called Kyong and Yong, and Yeong is a rabbit hybrid inspired by Yeosang. You are a hybrid, I decided to call Min-jun a German shepherd hybrid who works with the police, while Yunho is still a hound called Seo-jun” she said and I smiled. 

“Thank you,” I said and she chuckled. “I take a lot of inspiration from real life,” she chuckled.

That book was special to her. She often spent time with Hongjoong adding more to it. To be added and with Yunho… it was a feeling of warmth knowing I inspired something. 

I may not be with Yunho anymore but I knew that she loved me equally. I may miss my friend but I will hold onto this part of my life and enjoy it for the rest of my time with her. 

She was my safe place. 

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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