#physical health not mental health ya know

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

Ever since the show aired, I've wanted to write a mortal AU fic where Percy knows something is wrong with him and tries to get help but when he talks to Sally about it, she says there's nothing wrong with him. He's just special. He's half god.

And he isn't.

But now that cat is out of the bag and Percy just has to live with his mother's delusions (and reevaluate his entire life and his mother) and try to find actual help for his problems. While also not revealing that his mom is insane and this is why he's never been to the doctor before.

[muiromem]

Trying to maybe figure out stuff for a Voyager edit/photoset. Can't seem to find the right photo though...

Anyone know some moments from Bun-Of-Steel era Janeway holding something up? Or just gesturing with her hands up?

[princess-of-the-corner]

I know we /just/ had a conversation re: Quirks influencing behaviors and natures but GOD the fact that I ended up writing it so that the Todoroki's give a whole new meaning to the term 'seasonal depression'.

[floral-hex]

I’m fucking disabled

[lllsaslll]

I forgot Tumblr is (barely) my only safe place to vent

[fairyfleshprison]

You know what confuses the hell outta me as a Canadian being force fed American politics by proxy of having the internet ?

Is there only ever two candidates?

I could've sworn there was like 4 parties that you could vote for but like for the last eight or something years it's been like Trump or Biden then kamala or Trump or Trump and Obama. Like are there no other people running for office over there? I feel like I'm in the twilight zone, and it's just the same three people on a loop. But you guys do reelection every four years so like...what's even going on over there ????

[bittwitchy]

my gift is being annoying, see, i can hate myself and be so horrendously anxious that i think trying to make being alive easier for myself is somehow offensive to others bc thats how so many people online act like literally any accomodations not made by the doctors that dont care abt you at all are somehow unnecessary and ‘fishing for attention’ to the point i ruin myself and destroy my body avoiding accomodations bc i dont want to ‘seem like a bad person’ for quite literally needing help. but give me a tv show and 30 seconds with new information and i will either give you the most thought provoking theory or the most wildcard theory ever and always be correct.

[cryptidsdad]

robert fostering dogs from the shelter that damien works at? hm ??

[isaacathom]

fully off the shits. zeke's death took me out, man.

[transgender-catboy]

When I said spiderverse fixed my mental health, I meant it.

I woke up at fuckin 6am, I've been going to bed at 10pm! I went on a walk this morning, unprompted.

I went out in the world to better my health... because of SPIDER-MAN !?

[annabelle--cane]

kinda curious to see how results fall on here. I know a lot of these boxes are a bit constricting, most sober people I know irl have reasons more nuanced than these, but if one of them is mostly right then go ahead and pick it.

[peachsukii]

✮ content. little thoughts related to this post. fem!reader. mentions of mental health struggles & blood/wound care. reader is a little mean to herself. angst w/ comfort + fluff. softie bakugo.

Lost in the nothingness inside your head, you don’t have time to react when the cup slips from your hands, crashing into the sink with a loud crack. It was an accident, but you can’t help thinking that the universe is out to get you, and somehow, that you deserved it. Your favorite mug laid in ceramic slices, shattered under the running water of the kitchen sink.

“The hell was that?” Bakugo calls from the living room while making his way to the kitchen. “Did ya—”

He stops, the look on your face sending a chill through him as you stared into the sink basin, eyes unfocused and hazy. Carefully, he approaches you and turns off the water.

“Sweets, you’re bleeding,” Bakugo says hurriedly, a hand coming to take the shard from your grasp. When did you even pick that up?

“Lemme clean you up, yeah?” It’s phrased as a question, but Bakugo won’t take no for an answer — it’s not in his vocabulary. He runs into the bathroom and back to the kitchen in the blink of an eye, first aid kit in hand. The tin bangs against the counter as he throws it open. He lets out a breath before taking your hand to examine it further.

“Doesn’t look like anythin’ is stuck in the cut. Here,” Bakugo pauses to turn the faucet on and pushes your hand under the icy stream of water. “S’gonna sting, but cold water helps numb it.”

“Might make me feel something,” you mumble monotonously. “Other than stupid for dropping the damn thing.”

“Hey.” Bakugo orders sternly, fingers instantly finding your chin to turn your gaze toward him. “None’a that. Shit happens, you didn’t break it on purpose.”

You roll your eyes at him when he lets go, unintentionally getting snippy at his words. “Sure, I’m constantly terrible at everything because shit happens. Can’t be that I’m a failure of a hero, or at everything lately.”

“Stop.” Bakugo’s hands tremble as he rummages through the first aid kit to find what he needs. He hates seeing you spiral, loathes hearing you talk so poorly about yourself during these episodes. “S’not your fa—”

“But it is my fault!” You don’t mean to interrupt him, but your emotions are getting the best of you in the moment, the pain begging to be released at any cost. “All this misery and pain is exhausting. I should’ve let the villains take—”

Bakugo unexpectedly slams the first aid kit closed and shuts you up instantly. You’re speechless, the sudden outburst shaking you out of your self pity party and shifting into concern for him.

“…Katsuki?” You ask sheepishly, knowing full well your words cut him deeper than any knife could.

“Please…stop.” He turns his back to you, a hand coming to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. The air is heavy, the only noise being the water trickling over your wound. All he wanted to do was take care of you, fix your physical wounds in order to help heal your emotional ones. "Not sayin' ya can't be upset, just...don't say shit like that."

He’s right, you know he’s right.

“I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” Bakugo turns back toward you, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “Don’t wanna think about you not bein’ here is all.”

Before you can stop yourself, the question spills over your lips. “But Katsuki, why are you here?”

He hesitates for a few seconds, cycling past the urge to spit back something sarcastic or harsh to such a stupid question. You think for a moment that he’s considering leaving without a word, the hurt in his eyes evident from your negative attitude.

“Do I need a reason?” He tilts his head before lowering his eyes back to your hand, gently taking it in his and flipping your palm toward him, dabbing the excess water away from the open cut. “Y’know if I didn’t wanna be somewhere that I wouldn’t bother.”

“Yeah, but—”

He holds his free hand up to interrupt you. “M’here ‘cause I happen to love your ass and don’t like seein’ ya down. I won’t leave ya when you’re strugglin’, what kind of hero would I be then?”

You don’t mean to, but scoff at the mention of being a hero. “Always gotta be the hero.”

Bakugo stops to take a deep breath before invading your space, dropping the cloth from his hand and encasing you in a hug, his dry hand pushing your cheek against his chest. “Listen, sweetheart. Fight me all ya want, but as long as my heart is beating, m’gonna be here to take care of you. Sunshine or rainstorms, good and bad times. We figure it out together. I’ll keep drillin’ it into your head until you believe me, no matter how long it takes.”

There’s no point in arguing any further or being stubborn, Bakugo always knew how to win that race. A graceful surrender is your best option. He lets out a dry huff of victory at your silence, a tiny grin plastered on his face when he pulls away from you to return to the first aid kit.

“Now lemme wrap up your damn hand before you bleed all over my kitchen, then I’ll take ya to get a new mug. Deal?”

Your lips curl into a half-smile, suddenly feeling a little lighter than earlier, even if it’s just for a moment. “Deal.”

[rashemon]

Okay, I had to upload prices because previous ones doesn't really fit current Polish prices and I still struggled ;; Any reshares would be HIGHLY appreciated!

Emergency commissions cuz I cant even afford fucking meds rn, this is a disaster Explanation: I've been working in an office with highly toxic boss, and after years of destroying my health (mentally and physically) due to increasing harrassment towards me, I had to leave that job. I was constantly insulted, had to stay overhours, commit more than anyone in the team. I was insulted while being overworked and quite honestly, exhausted and pushed to mental breakdown. Finally, I opened my eyes after 6 months of sick leave and my health destroyed. Sadly, what I didn't know, is that Poland is now in a crisis of searching for new positions. I was an accountant, a good one, and now I can't find job anywhere, whilst having bills and a pet bunny to care about. Its a disaster I didn't anticipate, but I had to leave for my own wellbeing. Right now commissions are my only source of income, and probably that will be for a longer while - thats why there is no slot limit! Thank to everyone who trusted me with my commissions, it helps ALOT ;v;

BG3 special, prices are much lower for yall folks cuz I love ya uwu Informations: 1. I've passed the game with 100% Achievements and over 270h, you don't need to worry about spoilers ^^ 2. Any companion can do - this includes even Orin and Gortash! 3. All races are fine! ^^ 4. I do basic backgrounds, more detailed ones (such as drawing ur characters in tavern) may require additional payment (not much tho) 5. On painting, I can also draw character in any outfit you'd like 6. You can propose a pose 7. Everything is a reference for me - you can both give me screenshots of your tav, or drawings ^^ If Your Tav is a tiefling, I'd also love to see both side-profiles for horns reference!

[drugs-and-daddyissues]

𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 You're the significant other (and editor) of Markiplier, and he notices that you've been overworking yourself

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 none, just Mark being a cutie patootie <3 no gendered pronouns used, reader is referred to as "you"

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 Markiplier x gn! reader

Eudaemonia: the state of being lucky

You were currently working on editting a video for your boyfriend, Markiplier. You had gotten the bulk of it done, but there was just a little more to do. You knew it was getting late, but what's the harm in wanted to finish your project?

Your boyfriend apparently, that was the harm. He gently knocked on the door before letting himself in, and when he saw that you were still working? Oh boy, he was not pleased.

"It's late, love", he said, cocking an eyebrow as he folded his arms across his muscular chest.

You sheepishly looked up from your laptop, before playing a small smile on your lips. "I know baby, I'm almost done, I promise" You said softly, rubbing your eyes and blinking.

However, he did not take that for an answer, simply walking over to you, closing your laptop, taking your headphones off, and picking you up like it was no big deal. "Well, you're done now. Take a break, will ya, doll?" He chuckled, carrying you to your shared bedroom.

And honestly, you were tired, so you didn't protest, just letting him place you on the soft mattress, pulling the blanket over you.

Eyes half closed, you felt his weight on the opposite side of the bed, and his arms were quickly around you. "You overwork yourself sometimes, just let yourself breathe once in a while. The work is gonna be there, but you know you don't perform your best when you're tired, or stressed. Just get some rest love, I promise you'll have time to edit that video, just not right now" He murmured in your ear, placing gently kisses on your cheek and jawline.

And you knew he was right, the video would be there tomorrow, and right now, it was important that your mind and body were well rested.

A/N: sorry it's short!! I have a bunch of ideas to write but I figured that I'd just get this one out first 😭😭

As always, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🫶 As school starts back up, remember to take breaks and remember that your mental health is more important! Take care of yourself, physically and emotionally. Your body does a lot for you, so treat it nicely 💋

☆ like what you've read? masterlist

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 3

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +1.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, health conditions mentioned (c*ncer, PCOS, endometriosis), infertility, verbal and physical ab*se mentioned

A/N: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Bad News Pt. 1=> 😢

Bad News Pt. 2=> 😢

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

Over A Month After Mike's Funeral

“He said he'd leave the door unlocked, so I can just go in and get the rest of my stuff,” I said getting out of the car. “My legs hurt so damn bad,” Shante said bending over. “Old ass!” I laughed as I walked to the door.

As I lifted my hand to turn the doorknob, all of the memories from the night before I left came flooding back. “You good?” Shante asked as she walked up behind me. “Yeah, flashbacks whoopin’ my ass. I can't believe that… Fuck!” I said sobbing. Shante’s arms wrapped around me. “Oh, Bella. You'll be okay, mama. You know me and Mama gotchu,” she said swaying from side to side.

This was the first time since the day Terry called that I had realized how much life had changed. The surgery was “successful”. Testing showed no more immediate signs of cancer. The possibility of me getting pregnant was slim to none and would take a miracle, but I was trying to be as optimistic as possible about the situation.

“I'm fine. I promise,” I said patting her hands. She slowly released me from her embrace. “You’re strong, ya’ know. You always have been,” she said playfully bumping my shoulder. “Thank you for that. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to be. What's the reward in it?” I said reaching for the doorknob again.

Upon entering the house, I noticed that everything seemed to be untouched. It was as if Terry had barely stayed here since then. “Has he even been here?” Shante asked spinning around and taking in the scenery. She seemed to be just as confused as me. “I don't know. I didn't really ask. We only text about me coming to get my stuff,” I said walking further into the house.

The longer I stood there; the more I felt an overwhelming sense of dread, worry, and something I couldn't explain. It seemed off. It was almost as if this wasn't anyone's home anymore.

“Let's just go upstairs,” I said shuddering. As I turned to go up the stairs, I heard the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway. “I thought his bitch ass wasn't coming while you were here,” Shante said barreling towards the door. She grabbed the doorknob and swung it open. “That's what he…,” I started to say.

To my surprise, it wasn't Terry pulling in at all. I saw his mother climbing out of her small sedan. “Shit! It's his mama. What the hell?” I said palming my face. I hadn't prepared myself to face any of them— not Terry or his parents.

I could see her smile before she even reached the door. “Hi, honey. May I come in?” she asked looking at me. Her hands gripped her purse strap so tight that her knuckles turned white. “Yes… yes, ma'am. How are you?” I asked turning to meet her in the living room. “Good, how about you? I haven't spoken to ya’ since ya’ left,” she said walking up to me. She looked at Shante and mouthed a silent hello.

I didn't know what to say to her. Did I tell her the truth? Did I lie about what happened? Was I supposed to protect Terry? Should I even fucking care?

“I've been fine,” I said trying to stifle my emotions. I knew that my face and body language always gave me away. I wore my emotions outwardly like a second skin or a mask. “Don't lie to me, baby?” she said grabbing my hands. I looked down at the floor. “Bella,… maybe you should just… y’know,” Shante mumbled while shrugging her shoulders. “I've asked that boy a million times. He's as stubborn as a mule. He didn't hurt you did he?” she asked stepping closer. “No, but… Yeah, but not physically. Then again, every word he said felt like a punch to the gut. He…,” I said as the tears began to fall.

Before I knew it, I had told his mother everything— what happened that night, the next day, and what happened to me afterward. I even told her about the surgery and diagnoses.

“I'll be the first to admit that we missed the mark with Terry when it comes to emotional intelligence. His father was so set on raising a man that he just couldn't let the boy feel things. Y’know… he couldn't cry, be upset, or… Or, else. Yes, Terry is a grown-ass man, but… I don't know,” Terry's mother grew silent. It was like she had become lost in her thoughts.

“All I wanted was an apology. If he would've just… just heard me out and listened. But, I guess I wasn't worth it. I get it. Mike was in trouble, but I felt like I was fighting for my life… by my… by my damn self. He wasn’t talkin’ to me. He wasn't communicating with me at all. He was just telling me what he was gonna do, and that was it. I… I… I tried my hardest to let it go, but he had already said too much. There was no turning back after what he said. Whether he was angry, overwhelmed, or not; he hurt me!” I said leaning on my hands on the kitchen counter.

“I know. I'm sorry, honey. That's why I'm gone tell you this, and leave ya’ ‘lone. Okay? Listen to me, and listen to me good,” she said holding my face in her hands. “That's my son sure enough, but that's his father's creation. Don't make the same mistake I did. Run. Don't wait on him. He won't change. They'll tell you they will a million times and never will. They just keep feedin’ ya’ lies to tire ya’ out ‘til ya’ settle. And once you do that… It only gets worse. So, go up those stairs and get your stuff. When ya’ do, leave and don't eva look back. Ya’ hear me?” she said pulling me into a bear hug.

“And I know you said he isn't hitting you now, but if he's anything like his daddy, it's only a matter of time. Baby, don't even think ‘bout it… Lord… Just don't go back. Promise me that,” she said rocking me back and forth.

4 hours later

“That's it. We're done! Let's go. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I ain't in the mood. Girl, this was a helluva day,” Shante said walking out the door. I made sure that I had all of my stuff before leaving. I looked down at the set of keys in my hand. His mother was right; this was it. I wasn't turning back. I fumbled with the key ring and removed Terry's house key. I placed it on the kitchen counter. There was no reason to have it because I was NEVER using it again. I turned and began walking out the door locking it from the inside. Closing that door felt like ending an entire chapter of my life.

I walked to the passenger side of the car. Opening the door, I got in and slumped into the seat. “Alright. The hotel is only a thirty-minute drive. Let's go!” Shante said starting the car. Even reversing out of the driveway felt odd. It was as if every move from then on was solidifying just how done I was. Shante drove out of the neighborhood and turned onto the main street. The two-lane boulevard went straight through the center of the small town. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. I was exhausted as hell.

After a few minutes, I felt the car come to a stop. I opened my eyes to see where we were— the town center. It was the only stoplight in the city limits. “The fact that there is only one stoplight is insane,” Shante laughed. “Aww, don't be mean. That's not nice,” I said giggling into my hand.

As we were chatting, the red light changed to green. Shante eased into the intersection. I looked out the window, watching the scenery. It was heartbreaking, to say the least. This was supposed to be the start of my perfect life— small town, family home, a husband, some kids, all of it. It was like I lost it all in a night. My thoughts were drifting to a poisonous place, and I knew if I stayed there too long I wouldn't be able to climb out of that hole as easily. I let my eyes scan the small crowds outside the window. This was a normal Thursday night for everyone else but me.

We were nearing the edge of town and slowly approaching the city limits. All we had to do was get to the highway. This was the first time this drive felt so daunting. It was as if I was being forced to reconcile with every decision I made before today— the good and the bad.

Out the window, I could see the small bar that Terry frequented. It wasn't busy but small groups were still lingering out front. As we grew closer, I noticed Terry's truck parallel-parked out front. Of course, he was there. Where else would he be? This was where he went to run. I leaned my head against the glass. The side of my face flustered from the temperature of the cool glass. As we started to pass the back of Terry's truck, I could see his figure in front of the truck. He was leaning with his back against the hood. I sank back into the seat. I honestly didn't want to see him. I waited until we were completely past the bar before sitting up again. I didn't look back. I kept my eyes glued on the passenger side floorboards. What was the point? I wiped a single tear that was making its way down my face. I breathed out a deep sigh of relief.

What would life have to offer now? Genuine happiness. Healthy and reciprocated love. Self-discovery. Less bad news. Yeah, that's what I pray for— for God to finally give me enough space to breathe and grow.

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[daistea]

I started writing an imagine request but got distracted and produced This Thing. I’ve been wanting to write out my thoughts and my analysis on Mithrun’s state of mind for a while, actually

tw suicide, depression, discussions of mental health and self worth

Dungeon Meshi Spoilers ahead ‼️❗️

Sooo despite a lack of desires, Mithrun lives by habit.

These habits aren’t driven by preference, likes or dislikes. They’re still culturally acceptable though, mainly because Milsiril and his brother were the ones that instilled these habits in him(Mithrun doesn’t care what’s acceptable if it has nothing to do with the demon.) And there are still a few quirks leftover from his old self, things he never had a stark desire or choice to do but still did simply because he was used to them. Even after 40 years, the ins and outs of what the demon did to him remain still so complex.

Mithrun doesn’t really care about the details all that much. I like to think that outside of the dungeon, he has a regular bathroom schedule. He bathes every day when possible. He brushes his teeth for exactly two minutes, twice a day. It isn’t that he desires to not stink, it’s that he has to do these to keep his team willing to be around him so he’d have a better chance at finding the demon again and finishing the job.

In my headcanon, there are a few small habits he hasn’t quite picked up yet. He often doesn’t bother to brush his hair— the thought doesn’t even enter his mind. It gets stringy, something his old self never would’ve allowed. Its only when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror— a very rare occurrence, since mirrors remind him of the demon and the demon makes him want to shatter things— that he realizes that he should probably brush it for the sake of functionality.

Taking care of his skin is yet another habit he’d never really formed. Elves have naturally perfect skin anyway, so there’s no use. But they could still be scarred, and marred, and reflect physical neglect. Like with dark eye bags, a lack of sunlight, and dehydration.

Mithrun is incredibly dehydrated.

He doesn’t realize that, of course. While his body would feel the neglect, it doesn’t send those signals to his brain. With things like peeing, he only realizes that he needs to go to the bathroom because he recognizes the physical feeling, not because his brain says ‘got to pee now.’

With hunger, he feels pangs, but those pangs dont translate into appetite or a desire to eat. He only eats because it would keep him alive long enough to encounter the demon again.

Dehydration is also slightly physical, in that his throat will sometimes feel dry or his lips will chap, but he has not a single thought of ‘I’m craving water,’ Plus, what does that have to do with defeating the demon? Applying burts bees watermelon flavored lip balm ain’t getting him nowhere.

Everything goes back to the demon. Every move he makes is either because it’s a necessity of staying alive(to kill the demon) or because it’s part of the intricate web that will eventually lead him to the demon.

Mithrun gets hurt, he feels the physical pain, but his only desire is to patch it up quickly and keep moving to get to the demon. Healing himself for the sake of relief doesn't matter. Demon comes first. The demon is everything. It’s in the air he breathes, it’s in his bloodstream.

He doesn’t realize that he’s still Mithrun. He doesn’t consider himself as Mithrun anymore, that’s just his name. He lives for revenge(so he says) He Is An Instrument, a weapon that exists and is only maintained for the sole purpose of Revenge

A common misconception is that he has no emotion. Not true, he just doesn’t desire to fake a smile or joy or laughter for the sake of making someone feel comfortable. He can still smile quite naturally when he’s, ya know, getting closer to the goddamn demon. He can still be surprised and feel adrenaline and be angry at the things that happen in life. He can still get irritated or annoyed at his companions. He still has opinions, thoughts, feelings. He’s himself.

Idk. It’s incomprehensible almost, not having desires. It brings up so many variables. It’s not something you can be very literal or cut-and-dry about. My most effective way of connecting with his character is applying my experience with depression and the lack of desire I feel for doing certain things, and how I only do them for the sake of my family and friends. I think that’s considered relatively functioning. And I think honestly Mithrun would be considered high-functioning. But it’s not that he wants to do those things, he does them because he’s supposed to, because it all leads back to the stupid bitch face demon.

Mithrun tells himself he wants it dead. That’s his desire. But he knows if he ever succeeded in getting rid of it, he would have nothing. He’s okay with that. He’s going to die anyway, no matter if it’s by passively wasting away or by the mouth of the lion. He’s prepared for death, it’s inevitable. He’s not scared.

But once he decides to live again, he still functions mainly by habit. Except he starts to apply himself a little more.

“I’m going to wash myself today because my companions would appreciate that” and not “I need to stay clean to keep the team around to lead me to the demon”

And “I’m going to make noodles today to keep me busy.”

“I’m going to get a dog so I’ll have an obligation to go outside every day to walk it, because it’s good for me to do that.”

They’re still conscious choices, and sometimes he falters, he doesn’t register that he should do something. But he’s chosen to live and he’s trying to function not for the sake of his one goal, but for the sake of the gift that is existence.

He’ll learn to love, to have genuine friendships. On good days, he’ll appreciate a warm meal, the feeling of relief when drinking water, the soft touch of someone close to him. And he’ll experience these things because that’s what living people do. They’re nice things. He doesn’t do things anymore simply because they’ll take him closer to the demon.

It’s freeing, in a way. It’s scary, in another way. Imagine you’ve lost your one purpose in life, the one thing that keeps you on your feet, how would you react? Terrifying.

Mithrun is incredibly brave and strong for making the choice to find a new purpose, to exist, to eat.