#suddenly i’m not schizophrenic

[florwal]

that brief feeling of not being mentally ill after you deep clean your room 🧘🏻‍♀️

[shewroteaworld]

I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't

Premise: Brilliant sunshine!reader gets heat stroke on a case. Your best friend, Spencer Reid, is predictably worried about you. What he doesn't expect is to be forced to come to terms with his feelings for you.

Word count: approx. 3,200

TW: Brief mention of vomit and, perhaps, hospitals

(Y/N/N): Your nickname

Author's Note: Super excited to introduce brilliant sunshine!reader (aka, super smart sunshine!reader) onto my fanfic writing scene! Definitely willing to write more of her in the future if anyone is interested. Hope you enjoy!

“Does anybody have more water?”

“Where is the damn ambulance?”

Perhaps your job classically conditioned you to respond to Hotch’s “I’m seriously not fucking around” tone because your eyes crack open. 

Someone put weights on your eyelids and cranked the sun to extra-bright. The harsh rays burned your retinas and washed everything in a white blur. Did someone set off a flash bang?

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?” Miraculously, out of the screeching white, you made out JJ’s halo of blonde hair. 

“JJ?” You groaned. Even though you could barely see, it felt like the whole world was spinning, 

“Hotch, she’s coming around!” You recognized Morgan’s voice. “Welcome back to the world of the living, honey. We’re happy to see you.”

Your heart rate spiked. You never died. Did you die? 

“Yes, we still need a medic!” Hotch barked. 

You winced. “Wha?” Suddenly, your mouth couldn’t handle a one-syllable world. Even more alarming, your brain, the same brain that kept up with Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid,  couldn’t understand what the hell was going on.

 “What I do?” You whined. 

“He’s not yelling at you, honey,” JJ said like a kindergarten teacher. “You’re just a little out of it right now.”

“Is she conscious?” Another voice entered. Your head spun. “I brought more water.” 

You moaned to suppress a gag. Your eyelids drooped, and you relished in the break from the light.

“Hey, smarty pants, stay with us.” Morgan pat your cheek. “Let Emily get some water in you.” You couldn’t force your eyes open more if you tried.

Your friend Emily. That’s who the voice belonged to. 

Suddenly, JJ pulled your hair from your face, Morgan lifted your head, and Emily forced a water bottle to your lips simultaneously.  The blinding glare seared your eyes and your head spun. You wanted to sob and maybe vomit.

Your chest hitched with a shallow inhale. “Stop.” You whined.

“(Y/N), it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” JJ said.

“No!” You exclaimed.

“Honey–” Morgan tried. 

You thrashed against his hold, but your exhausted muscles couldn’t throw Morgan’s gentlest grip. 

“Maybe we should let her go.” Emily said.

“She needs water.” JJ countered.

“She’s disoriented.” Hotch cut in. “Let her get her bearings first, but don’t let her close her eyes.”

Gingerly, Morgan lay your body back on the grass. Your head swam, and your vision rippled as if you could see the heat waves in the California air. You tried to take a deep breath but choked.  

You sputtered. Every inhale led to a series of dry coughs. In your delirium, you thought of Spencer. Your Spencer. Where the hell was he? Did he not love you anymore?

Suddenly, Hotch loomed over you. His tall frame blocked out the brutality of the sun’s glare, which eased your headache and nausea but not your cough. His eyebrows were so deeply furrowed they formed a trench of wrinkles across his forehead. “Check her airway.” 

Suddenly, you stared into JJ’s blue eyes. Other hands tried to manipulate your body. You jerked.

“(Y/N), relax.”

“Honey, please–”

“Turn her on her side!” Morgan’s cut off by Reid, his voice sharper than you’d ever heard. 

***

Spencer Reid has survived many traumatic situations. 

He's cared for his schizophrenic mother. He’s been kidnapped. He recovered from a drug addiction. And those are just a few items from his dissertation-length “PTSD-Causing Experiences” list. 

But many of his worst traumas were a by-product of being a profiler– a job which allowed him to utilize his intellect to help others. He was willing to accrue trauma like Pokemon cards in exchange for applying his genetic gifts to create a safer world. 

Reid could have framed your heat exhaustion as another scare in the line of duty. But when Reid saw you, his brilliant girl, on the ground, his heart fell through his feet.

Then, he saw how his the team responded to your medical emergency.

When he witnessed you coughing and writhing on your back as the team leered over with water, he thought he might explode.

You could be asphyxiating, and the team could be letting you choke while forcing more fluid down your throat. 

He shivered as he sprinted down the steps of the local precinct and onto the grassy field where you lay. 

“Turn her on her side!” He yelled as diagnoses and courses of action fled through his mind on hyperspeed.

“We’re trying, she—”

“Spence?” You choked out through a coughing fit. He’s surprised his ears caught it.

Reid knelt next to you. “Let’s get you into recovery position.” He said, his voice suddenly soft as clouds. Reid gingerly pushed you onto your left side. “Off your back, there we go.” He bent your right leg and slid it in front of your body to prevent you from rolling onto your stomach if you lost consciousness. 

“Did she faint?” Reid asked the team. He couldn’t take his eyes from your face. 

“We think so. She was dizzy, so she laid on the ground. Then she was unresponsive for at least 40 seconds,” Emily said. 

Spencer pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. Predictably, you were feverishly hot. “She’s burning up. Has someone called an ambulance?”

“Allegedly.” Hotch said, an edge to his voice. 

“We have, sir. They’re on their way.” A local police officer responded, exasperated.

Spencer’s eye twitched. “How long has she been down?” You whined, and he stroked your cheekbone with his thumb.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He whispered. 

“In total, 15 minutes.” Hotch supplied. “Emily, pour some more water on her.”

“This was for her to drink.”

“Use one bottle to pour on her face and neck.” Spencer said. “I ran and got Gatorade. She should start with sips of that when she can swallow. Heat stroke can also be caused by salt depletion.” 

Spencer was conversing with a local officer over the safety protocols in the area when a pair of policemen walked into the precinct, gossiping about the FBI agent who “folded fast in the southern Cali heat.”

Spencer’s jaw had clenched. Maybe one of his team members was ill since they put in most of the grunt work to catch the unsub. He would’ve been more annoyed if not for the worry gnawing at his brain. What if they were talking about (Y/N)? She looked a little shaky right after her chase with the unsub, but Spencer didn’t get a chance to ask his friend if she was alright. And, stupidly enough, he forgot to text her to check if she drank any water post-case. Quickly, Reid excused himself, grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge, and rushed to the field where your limp body trembled on the grass. 

“I’m going to pour some water on you, honey," Emily said. You flinched as the frigid water hit your hairline. 

“Breathe, relax.” Spencer said, shielding your nose. The last thing you needed was some accidental waterboarding.

Seconds after the water drenched your forehead, your whole body relaxed into the grass. “That felt good.” You smiled weakly. 

Spencer stroked your arm. “Let’s sit you up in a minute, okay? You should try some Gatorade before the EMTs get here.”

“EMTs? I’m fine.” You whined.

Spencer didn’t think it was possible for his eyebrows to crease further. 

“You’re not fine.” Gentler, he said, “and it’s okay not to be fine, sunlight.”

“But, I’m alive.” You tried to roll onto your stomach, but your bent leg kept you safe on your back.

Some on the team members chuckled, but Spencer didn’t find your delirium humorous. “I know you’re alive, sweetie. But you’re way too hot. I think you’re a little confused right now.”

“I’m just…” You winced. “I’m alive.”

The knot in Spencer’s chest tightened ten-fold. This could be heat stroke. At the very least, you had heat exhaustion. You were dehydrated. You were delirious. 

Best case scenario: you were ill for a few days. Worst case scenario: You had vital organ damage.

Just as he’s about to call 911 himself, JJ interrupted him. “Look–ambulance lights. Help is on the way, honey.”

“You hear that, (Y/N)? You’re gonna be fine.” Morgan said. If only Spencer felt that confident. 

“Spence…” You blocked your eyes from the light with your limp right hand. “I’m scared. I don’t feel well.” 

“Oh, (Y/N), I know.” He cupped your shoulder and hoped you could feel his love for you through his palm. That sent a jolt down his spine. He wasn’t supposed to comfortably think those thoughts about you.

You were sick. This wasn’t the time. He leaned over your body. He gave you plenty of breathing room, but his torso was  parallel to your hip so his eyes could meet your watering ones. “Hey, take a breath for me, Smartie.” 

Your nickname for him slipped from his tongue so easily it spooked him. Suddenly, he noticed his thumb stroking over your cotton t-shirt. He should stop. The whole team was watching. He was being was too intimate; he'd face stupid quips from Morgan for days. He kept stroking anyway.

He observed your chest rise and fall. Your breaths were shaky but deeper. He relaxed a tad. Vital oxygen was reaching your bloodstream.

“(Y/N), can we try something?” Spencer asked.

“Yes. Maybe. What is it?”

The knot in his chest loosened. You responded immediately and with more than two words; you were becoming more lucid. 

“Can you sit up and have some sips of Gatorade? I got your favorite flavor. At least, if your favorite flavor hasn’t changed from three years ago.” It most likely hadn’t. Once your opinion settled, it was frustratingly hard to erode your verdict. 

“I can’t…I don’t know.”

“I know sitting up is hard. I’ll help you. And I’ll prop you against my chest. I’ll hold your weight when you can’t.”

“KK, Spence.” Your childlike tone tugged at his heart strings.

Spencer and Morgan lifted your limp body from the ground. They manhandled you into a sitting position with your head propped on Spencer’s shoulder and your body tucked between his thighs. 

One of his arms stabilized you while the other raised a cold bottle of orange Gatorade to your lips.

After nine sips of Gatorade, you spoke again. 

“Orange.” You took another sip. "My favorite.”

He smiled into your hair. “When have I ever lied to you, (Y/N/N)?”

***

Spencer nearly created a crater in the linoleum floor of the ER waiting room with his bouncing heel by the time the doctor came back with an update. 

“She had a mild case of heat stroke. We currently have her on fluids, and she’ll need lots of rest for at least the next week.” Doctor Bahamani concluded. 

“No signs of metabolic dysfunction? Any respiratory distress?” Reid checked. 

Doctor Bahamani smiled knowingly. “She’s going to be just fine, Doctor Reid.”

“Can I see her?” Spencer asked. 

“Yes. Only two at a time, please.” 

Spencer didn’t care who volunteered with him. He moved without thinking. An outpouring of gratitude for his eidetic memory flooded him. Through the thickest brain fog, he could trust his recollection of the hospital to bring him to the correct hospital room.

The security staff practically had to drag him away from your bedside after the ambulance ride. They might have thrown him out of the ER if not for the flash of his FBI badge.

Something nagged at him as he sped past the nursing station. 

You were going to be fine. The ER doctor confirmed it. Yet his heart was still pounding and he could barely refrain from running. Even more odd, he wasn’t ashamed of his irrational behavior. 

So what if a doctor deemed you were okay? It was you. And he saw you groggier and more out of it than you'd ever been. And who knows how thorough the doctors were with their examination? It was completely reasonable to worry for one of his closest friends. 

He just couldn't believe you were alright until he checked you over with his own hands and his own eyes.

***

When you grinned at him from your cot, Spencer wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.

Tears glazed your eyes. But, your gorgeous smile was back. 

“Spencer?” You asked, brow raised and head cocked. 

He’d been staring too long. He looked like an idiot, lamely standing in the doorway as if he were the one with heat stroke.

“Straighten your head. Your neck is probably tight.”

You smiled, but this time it was tight-lipped and painful-looking. “You’re too worried.”

He watched saline drip down your IV. “Of course I’m worried, (Y/N). You got heat stroke.” With a deep breath as a shot of courage, he sat in the chair by the head of your bed.

There was nothing odd about sitting with his best friend at the hospital. 

His chest twisted at “best friend” and his resolve collapsed. He couldn’t deny it anymore. 

He liked you. He really, really liked you. He actually might even���

“Luckily, I got out pretty unscathed.” You snapped Spencer out of his spiral. “A little dehydrated. Achy. Might feel sick for a few days.”

“Or weeks.” Spencer corrected.

“Trying to look on the bright side here, Doctor.” You smirked and Spencer swore his right ventricle tightened.

Then, your nose scrunched and Spencer's wiped clean of any concern about his cardiac health. 

“What hurts?”

“Just a little achy, Spencer. I’m alright.” 

He shot you a look. He knew all your excuses. He knew you went to self-harming lengths to not worry people. 

“You’re not alright.” He reached for the red nurse-call button. 

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Okay…my body aches, Spence. And the IV burns. But they’ve already told me that’s normal. No need to take nurses away from an emergency.”

The nurses at the station desk didn’t appear to be rushing around for anyone, but Spencer feared this wouldn’t behoove his case. 

“They can give you pain medication, if you want.”

You hesitated, and immediately Spencer pressed the button. When you smiled weakly instead of bickering, his worry grew tenfold but not without a rush of heat flooding his entire body. 

In Morgan's words, he’s down bad. 

“How are you doing, sunshine?” As if he’d been summoned, Morgan appeared in the doorway. 

Spencer stepped back from your cot. The part of him riled from Morgan’s “sunshine” moniker wants to shove his hand into yours. Spencer thought he hid his annoyance well, but something about Morgan's smirk told him otherwise.

“Um…”

Morgan’s smirk fell. “You feel that bad, huh?”

You chuckled sadly. “Do I look that shitty or am I an open book today?”

“You never look shitty,” Spencer said. A tsunami of blood rushed to his face.

“Anyway,” Morgan said, “Do you want anything, Beauty Queen? I can grab you some jello.” 

“Jello sounds nice.” You said, and something in your voice was so vulnerable and naive Spencer wanted to wrap you in his arms as tight as he could. Which was illogical. That would only hurt you further. 

He shook his head as if that would remove the thoughts from his mind. “I’m gonna see if I can check up on your labs at the nurse’s station. I’ll make sure they’re giving you the good drugs.” He smiled.

You laughed– a genuine laugh– and Spencer’s heart soared. “Thanks, Spence.”

“I’ll go grab your jello,” Morgan said.

“Hold on, you should stay with her just in case she needs anything," Spencer said.

“I’ll be fine, Spence.” You said, but Spencer was not prepared to take "no" for an answer.

“If you boys wants to run her some errands, I’ll stay.” Emily stood in the doorway. “JJ is coming soon too– she just got a phone call from a very frantic Penelope.”

Your nose crinkled. “Oh no.” You groaned, but you were smiling. 

“Oh, yes. Be prepared for some mother henning," Emily said.

“Garcia can’t be any more mother henning than Reid," Morgan said. 

Before his face could turn redder than a baboon’s bottom, Spencer fled.

He’s only two yards from the nursing station when Morgan intercepted him at the end of the hall. 

“So, you’re going to make your move, right?”

Spencer's body temperature plummeted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He tried to shoulder past Morgan, but he was no match for his grip strength. “Reid, c’mon. You like (Y/N).”

Part of him wanted to laugh. “Like” seemed too simple of a word to describe the symphony of feelings (Y/N) started in him. “It’s…” He’s too tongue-tied to lie. “It’s complicated.”

You’re brilliant. You’re beautiful. You’re brimming with empathy. You’re everything Spencer could want. And it scared the shit out of him. Because that meant there’s even more to lose. And if he lost you, there would be no one to blame but himself. It was better for his psyche to not go there with you– to step back from the line rather than risk what would happen if he failed to make it work in the end. 

And what if you got hurt? What is you fell in the line of duty? Or worse, what if someone targeted you because of your romantic tie to him? Spencer's already experienced the pain of losing a soulmate-- a concept he wasn't even sure he believed in-- once. He wasn't not sure if he could survive it a second time.

There was too much unpredictability in his life. He chose a dangerous profession. He was gifted a ticking time-bomb of dangerous genes. He’d never forgive himself if he inflicted onto you the pain he’s been through; losing loved ones, whether through death or mental illness. 

Morgan's expression turned sympathetic. “Reid, you should give it a shot. Our lives our hectic. And if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

Spencer blinked to block tears from welling. “I just want her to be happy, too.”

“And who says you don't make her happy?”

“His idiotic genius brain.” Rossi appeared from around the corner.

Spencer froze. “You heard?” His face flushed yet again.

“Just the tail end. But Reid…” He trailed off.

Morgan took the hint. “I’m going to get (Y/N) some jello. With my charm, I could negotiate for some whipped cream.” 

“Don’t get whipped cream on it. She’s lactose sensitive,” Spencer said.

Morgan's stupid smirk reappeared. “Gotcha, Reid.”

Rossi took Morgan's place. Once Morgan was out of sight, he began his speech. “You love her. Don’t get in your own way.” Rossi put his hand on Reid’s shoulder. “And (Y/N) is an incredibly intelligent woman. Don’t insult her intelligence by thinking she can’t decide who is or is not worth taking a risk. And for what it’s worth…a man like you is worth the risk.” 

Rossi left Reid staring at his back. 

For the longest time, Reid convinced himself he refrained from asking you out to protect you from himself and his hefty baggage. And that’s not completely untrue. 

But suddenly, he realized he was primarily trying to protect himself from exposing his vulnerabilities to you this whole time. There’s never been a person whose opinion affected him like yours. There's never been a life he's wanted to protect more except perhaps...Maeve.

But just like it’s up to you to decide who’s worth the risk, it’s up to him to decide as well.

And if today taught him anything, shit happens. And if you slip through his fingers, he doesn't want it to because he wasn't brave enough to make a first move.

And being your person was more than worth the risk of rejection.

Author's Note: Thank you to so much to everyone who stuck around through my hiatus! I appreciate every single one of you! You're super cool :)

Happy to be back! Inbox is open to chat about writing and take requests! Please check pinned "Blurb Requests" post before requesting! (Will update the post as my boundaries update!)

Have an awesome day or night, wherever you are in this crazy world. I am incredibly thankful you spent part of your precious life reading something I penned.

Forever grateful,

shewroteaworld

[dykesynthezoid]

There’s a good chance Daniel’s mood ring eyes are just some special quirk he has (like Armand’s nystagmus) but I think it would be soooo cool if it was like. A manifestation of a more complex power; like why is their thing Eyes. What’s with the Eyes. And it just makes me think of the gift of Sight; of the way Daniel (pre-turning) was having visions of the twins. And granted that was apparently partly bc of being fed Armand’s blood, but. Vampire Daniel having visions feels fitting, especially when Daniel’s Whole Thing is that he can cut to heart of things, can pierce through to the truth. Suddenly he’s Seeing stories, narratives, without even having to dig for them; instead they’re coming to find him.

It also sets up a potential “madness” arc; Daniel’s living it up as a nepo-fledgling, reveling in being able to embrace that hedonism. And in the midst of all that, sometimes he just— sees. Strange visions, distortions. At first he probably chalks it up to the drugged up blood he’s been drinking. But more and more things start to unravel— he can’t find his maker, and it’s not like Louis ‘yes I hallucinated my ex again, no I’m not schizophrenic, don’t worry about it’ du Lac would know how to help in that situation.

It would actually be a really convenient way to introduce some of the backstory required for the qotd storyline without having to bounce around between characters. Daniel, like in the books, could have visions of the twins and Akasha, and visions of other important vampire players.

It also creates a parallel between him and Jesse, (she sees ghosts, he sees visions) and I think having them be foils (assuming Jesse makes it into the show) is kind of inevitable, bc Jesse is also the type of person to dig and dig and dig and not know when to stop.

And it’s the sort of power that honestly makes sense to have been passed down through Teskhamen’s line, given his role as a religious figure. And for whatever reason it didn’t fully manifest in Armand, and probably to an extent in Marius either. Maybe it’s because Daniel is Armand’s only fledgling, and his very first after 500 years. (Teskhamen was ancient but also very weak when he made Marius; Marius had already made Pandora before he made Armand).

I think it would be a very fun road to go down and to explore and would fold in well with the rest of the narrative. There’s just so many things they could do with something like that.

[spoonsock]

Intruder

Gwen Stacy x Reader

Synopsis: You live a boring life, someone breaks into your house and you successfully convince yourself you are schizophrenic lmao

I don’t think I’ve specified reader’s gender anywhere so I guess this is gender neutral but I haven’t proofread it so I’m not sure srry

Warnings: Absolute shitty writing and mentions of an injury I guess. NOT PROOFREAD I WROTE THIS AT 3AM I SWEAR TO GOD THIS IS AWFUL!!!!!

“Best years of your life”, they would say. And you would listen. Daydreaming about adolescence and what it would be like. But no amount of daydreaming or storytelling could prepare you for what you were about to experience. Nobody told you you were going to have to face the inevitable, deadly boredom.

It’s summer, for God’s sake. You were supposed to be going out, having fun, getting drunk or high, partying or something of the sorts. And yet, here you are, laying on your bed and staring at the ceiling. It’s not late, the sun is just setting and still, you are in your pajamas. Just laying there, blankly staring at the big, white ceiling. You blink every so often. It’s pathetic. Frustrating. There’s so many things you wanna do, so many things you could do. You wonder, “what’s stopping me?”…. Oh yeah. You have no social life nor the social skills to be going out almost every night. Your best friend is your cat, the only people who text you are your parents, in school you barely talk to your roommate, even less to the people from your classes. You go to this prestigious school and study your ass off day and night to pass your classes, just like everyone else there. You doubt anyone from your school, even those with average grades, have a social life.

But all of that doesn’t matter now tho. It’s summer. No school, no pressure, no work. Just chilling all day. Having fun during the night. Not you though. You are once again starting at your goddamn ceiling, not moving an inch. Your parents aren’t at home, and won’t be back anytime soon. “I could throw a party”… you laugh at the thought. Tonight is just like any other night. You’ll listen to your music or draw or do whatever and then go to bed at 9 PM. How pathetic.

You close your eyes. Your chest is moving up and down while you breathe steadily. You slowly drift to sleep, thinking about how peaceful life is currently.

Fate is a funny thing. You say something along the lines “life is peaceful”, and the next moment, the window in the room next to yours, your sibling’s room, shatters into thousands of tiny pieces of glass everywhere across your room. Someone broke into your house. Your eyes are now wide open and breathing is fast and unsteady. You’re literally frozen and grasping at the sheets on your bed, scared to make sudden move or to let out a single noise. You can hear someone trashing around in the room, stumbling, stomping, kicking. You can even hear the person very silently curse a few times. The fuck are they doing? Some time passes by, the noises the person was making stopped. “Maybe they left? I need to check”.

You decide to muster up some courage to sit up, and grab a pair of scissors from your work table with shaky hands. You have no idea what you can do with those scissors, honestly, they are not even that sharp, but you do feel a little safer while holding them. Afraid to make a sound, you move on the very tips of your toes, one step at a time, carefully listening in case you hear something from the other room. You press your ear onto the door of it, trying to figure out if there’s someone there. Your hands are still shaking and sweaty from the nervousness. Nothing. Not a single sound. “They must have left”

You grip your scissors in one hand and put your palm over the door handle, before slowly pressing down and opening the door quietly. You peer inside the dark room, the only light is coming from your own through the crack between the door and the wall. The more you open the door, the more of the light comes in. Suddenly, you see something move in the dark.

“Who’s there?” You tried to sound confident, but it didn’t really work as your voice broke when you tried to speak.

No answer. Holding the scissors closer and tighter, you open the door fully to lighten the whole room. Someone is laying on the floor. Someone dressed up in a white costume or something like that. You come closer and squint your eyes trying to see who is that.

“Is that….? No, it can’t be”

Yeah, yes it can be. The spider-woman, or Ghost spider as some called her, in the flesh. In your house. Bleeding onto your floor.

“What the heelllll”

You sit on the floor next to her limp body. She’s obviously unconscious, not dead. There’s a small puddle of blood around her leg. She’s laying on her back directly under the window, surrounded by the glass. There’s a huge hole in her costume on her left leg, the one closer to you, from which she’s bleeding. All over your floor. You stare at her wondering what the actual fuck is going on. You’re stuck there for a few moments before pulling yourself back to reality. The Spider-woman is bleeding on your floor. You gotta do something bruh.

You quickly run out of the room and return with a first aid kit. Everything is moving in a blur, you can’t tell whether this is all some kind of a fucked up dream or reality, but whatever it is, the only thing you are sure of is that you gotta help her. You clean the cut on her leg with something from the kit, put something jelly on it, and then wrap her leg with a towel. You have no idea what you just did or will it help but it did stop the bleeding so you just move on and start wiping the blood off of the flor with a wet rag. After a while of cleaning the floor next to the unconscious body of Spider-woman while your mind is completely blank, you hear a few groans. The pit in your stomach grows and you wonder what the actual frick should you do when she wakes up, which will apparently be, any time now. You guess she opened up her eyes (you can’t tell bc, you know, the mask and all) as she slowly rose in a sitting position, holding her head in one of her hands, rubbing her temple. She looks around herself and, I shit you not, flinches so hard that she hits her head on the window frame behind her when she sees you. You let out a loud gasp when she does so, even more scared of her than she is of you.

“Ouch, damn it! Where am I? Who are you? What is going on? I-“ she starts frantically.

“Stop stop stop calm down please!” you wave your hands around her, not knowing what to do while she looks around in panic shaking her head. Her eyes land on her leg and widen even more.

“What happened to my leg??” She looks at you. Well, you don’t really know if she’s looking at you, you can’t see her eyes, but you suppose she is and attempt to answer to all of her questions.

“You had a cut on your leg so I did…something with it and now it’s not bleeding anymore” you *try to* explain.

“Oh”

It’s quiet for a moment before you narrow your eyes at her and decide it’s time for you to start asking questions about this weird situation.

“You broke into my house and then blacked out. What the hell was all that??”

“I-I don’t know, I don’t remember anything!” She raises her hands up in defense.

It’s quiet again. She’s intensely staring at you while you look at everything around the room but her. You don’t know what to do. The Spider-woman is in your house. Well, she broke into it but still. She’s there.

You always held some sort of admiration towards her, even though your parents disliked her. Said she was a vigilante, how she doesn’t really help the cops, how she wouldn’t wear a mask unless she had something to hide. You didn’t care why she wore a mask. You liked what she did and thought it was admirable. You thought about how cool it must be, to be a superhero, to save lives and have amazing powers and do amazing shit all day. How cool it must be to be special. To be somebody. To be somebody to someone.

She’s still looking at you. The fuck is her problem? “Okay” you sigh and get up. “Is your leg any better?”

She attempts to get up and slowly succeeds. She steps on her left leg and you can tell she made a sour face after doing so, but quickly hides the expression she thought you couldn’t even see. “Yeah I guess”

You made her tea. She sat on your couch and drank it. It was silent for a while. For a long while. But it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. More like a “we’re both too tired to talk, so it isn’t awkward, it’s just silent” silence, you know?

You would glance at her every now and then. Even in her costume, even under her mask, you thought she was pretty. You could just feel it. Something about her was so…inviting and…pretty.

More time passed and she had to go. Said something along the lines of having to run an errand. You nodded. She promised she’ll come back and fix your window ASAP. You let her know it was okay (even though the thought of attempting to explain how “you” broke the window in your sibling’s room to your parents AND to your sibling sent shivers down your spine) and escorted her out of the door this time. The absence of her presence kinda disturbed you.

“Whatever”, you thought and went back to your room, back to staring at the ceiling, waiting to fall asleep and hoping that when you wake up, the window will be magically fixed and your meeting with Spider-woman will turn out to be just a dream.

And magically enough, the window was fixed the next morning when you woke up. You asked your parents did they see anything unusual at home when they returned from wherever they were and the answer was a no. “Huh…weird. Maybe it was all a dream after all”

And that’s what you continued telling yourself. I mean, you didn’t have any proof that it wasn’t just a really really random dream. So you *tried to* believe it. And it kinda worked. But you couldn’t help but to hope you will dream of your intruder some time again.

Few weeks later, you met someone who goes to your school for the very first time. At your local grocery store, of all places. Her name was Gwen Stacy. She was really pretty and seemed nice, her dad was a cop and she lived actually really close to you. Surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be friends with her. You, also, found yourself not being able to shake off a weird feeling that you recognized her voice from somewhere.

Once again I repeat, this was written at 3:11 AM and it has not been proofread, please do not come @ me☺️

[willothewispwisteriadawn]

Why the “Josh was misdiagnosed” theory is very likely incorrect. (Reworded)

Yeah, I know I did a post on this, but I liked my articulation of it better on Reddit, so I’m reposting.

Josh being misdiagnosed has been one of the most popular fan-canons since 2015, but way more indicates that the schizophrenic behavior was caused by Phenelzine withdrawal.

I think the misdiagnosis theory is popular because it’s so tragic and unfair (not that Josh’s story isn’t tragic already). It also allows us to feel more sympathy for Josh while placing some blame on outside characters (the failure of five doctors!)… But the misdiagnosis theory doesn’t have nearly as much supporting it as the withdrawal theory does. All the details we get are telling us that Josh has been depressed since childhood, but developed the schizophrenic symptoms much more recently.

Breakdown

The last drug Josh was on was Phenelzine. The story indicates, from Hill’s text messages (and from a line Chris says about Josh being off his meds) that Josh suddenly stopped taking this medication. Here are some relevant details:

1. BAD HISTORY WITH TAPERING— Josh has a bad history with drug tapering: (Referred on 11/29/2013 after patient's response to drugs tapered badly). The report also mentions that electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) was considered due to Josh’s history with tapering.

2. POSITIVE FINAL CONSULTATION— The end of Josh’s report shows that the Phenelzine worked. Josh said that he was doing better, and Hill decided Josh could be discharged. I think this detail is important because— unless Josh was lying— it indicates that the Phenelzine was affective for the condition he had. But it ALSO gives us a reason for Josh to have stopped taking his meds.

The report lists the Phenelzine‘s withdrawal symptoms.

Nightmares

Hallucinations

Catatonia

Shocks

Agitation

Aggression

Slurred speech

Ataxia

Paranoia

Insomnia

Many of these side effects are linked. Hallucinations and catatonia can go hand-in-hand, for example. The scene when Josh is dazed in front of Mike and Sam has some elements of both schizophrenia and catatonia in it. Slurred speech and ataxia are both on here, and Josh definitely shows odd, erratic, and slurred speech patterns. (I think ataxia is more about coordination? But it can affect speech). To be honest, you can point out moments in-game that are symptomatic of most of these.

Finally, we get dialogue that suggests that Josh’s really schizophrenic behavior is new. For example, Mike asks Chris if he’s ever seen Josh behave this way. Chris says he never has. Because Chris and Josh have known each other for around ten years, this question and answer stands out.

Conclusion (TL;DR)

I can’t speak to the accuracy of all the medical stuff in here; that’s a different can of worms. I am just saying the writers did all the following— A) gave a list of drug withdrawal symptoms, B) told us that Josh might have stopped taking his meds, C) made sure to show Josh exhibiting the withdrawal symptoms they already mentioned, D) explained that some of this behavior feels new. Conversely, there’s not much included to show that he was misdiagnosed. We have one doctor disagreeing with Josh on treatment. But we don’t have the same story-in-the-details that we do for the withdrawal theory.

Hill medicated correctly, for what Josh had at the time: depression. The schizophrenic-like behavior only started after the depression meds weren’t tapered correctly.

[thrashkink-coven]

Ritual Report: September 26-7th 2023

“Tried to invoke Azrael, met… Jesus?

Disclaimer: I am not Christian or a Jesus freak. This is VERY weird for me. Yeah I know this sounds crazy, I know I’m probably insane and schizophrenic and whatever yes yes skepticism skepticism upgs whatever whatever. I’m not trying to convince you of anything. As a follower of Lucifer, I am not the type to try and pull this card. Let’s fast forward.

These last few months I have had the extreme inclination to work with and invoke Archangel Azrael. I work very closely with a few other angels and spirits who have been continually encouraging me to seek out the Angel of Death.

Yesterday I tried invoking him for the first time. At first I felt nothing for a long time and I felt like I wasn’t really getting anywhere. It wasn’t until I felt a very… heavy feeling blanket me that I felt any kind of presence. I remember I was laying back in my couch, staring into his candle flame and repeatedly thinking about his name, his sigil, and his correspondences. In another astral journey a couple weeks prior I’d identified the entity as one I have been in close proximity to for years. He asked me then to summon him with a red candle and mugwort which I did during this ritual.

Azrael never spoke, but rather he simply produced understanding. I understood very suddenly that Azrael could not necessarily be invoked, he was something that had to be “becomed” and it was clear to me then that in order to understand him, I had to understand what death was and what death meant.

There then a deal of sorts was made. I remember calling out to the candle that if I could truly experience death without fleeing or cowering, that I would be worthy to witness the angel.

I then began to feel very nauseous and cold. I started to tremble in a feverish way and I remember laying back in my chair and considering the consequences of my hubris. I then experienced the removal of all things, perhaps this is ego death. I lost my body, I was transformed into something else. And as I lay there I remember forgetting what I was. I had no name, I was no longer a human. I was just. And I was also everything before everything knew what it was.

Then I began to understand “nothing”. Not nothing but “nothing”. Nothing to be or to remember or understand. I thought then that this must be Azrael, the lack of. Just ___. And I lay there forever and I was

However, it was then that I saw him and I couldn’t fully understand what it was that I was seeing. I remember it being a horrible, massive and overwhelming thing of many blinking eyes that consumed me entirely. I had nothing to retreat to, I was no longer able to be anything else. I then understood that Azrael is not “nothing” but rather he is very much a thing. He is the thing that is the force of transformation. I found him extremely beautiful.

Then finally, after what felt like millennia, I was me again, and I was at the centre of the universe. There sat a robed creature who would not let me see its face, sitting upon a blazing ball of white light. We were the largest and oldest star in the universe, speeding through the cosmos with the rest of the galaxy chasing behind us in an endless game of tag, trapped in our gravity. In front of us was pure nothingness, as we were moving too quickly for time and light to catch up to us. We were headed into nothing.

And i remember remarking that it felt like we were moving so fast, and Azrael “said” that perhaps we were not moving at all.

What we spoke about I cannot fully remember but I know that I asked him about my book. I am in the process of writing a book that is essentially about the relationship between death and god. I told him that one day I wanted to read it to him, and that I would like his assistance with it. I told him that it was only fair that he help me with my book, as I will eventually become apart of his. He found something about that humorous.

When I awoke fully in my body and self, I felt extremely lonely.

This morning, having not cleaned up the ritual, I tried to make contact again. Now I am deeply confused.

I made an astral leap very very easily, with more ease than I ever had with hardly a warm up or an exercise. I was on a beach, at a campfire created with the trunks of white trees.

There was a man sitting there with a banjo or some kind of small guitar. He had thick black hair- it didn’t go past his ears- and and brown skin. He had on a red and cream coloured robe and white linens. He had very welcoming brown eyes. His smile for whatever reason made me want to cry. He was very cheerful. Very kind.

He was singing towards the ocean. I could tell that he was human, and he greeted me like we were friends. I didn’t say anything, I was very confused. This has never happened.

He then offered me a bowl of rice, told me to remove my sandals (which I suddenly had) and asked me to sit with him. So I did, though I didn’t eat the rice. He gave me a wooden cup which I assume contained wine as there was a red liquid inside. I drank it, it was very sour.

He continued singing towards the water - in a language I could not understand- and towards the horizon I could see many “things” maybe angels, watching us from a distance. He concluded his song and a group of men, maybe 5 or 6 came from down the hills and greeted him. The hooped and hollered (like frat boys) and laughed and hugged him, kissed him, very excited to see him. He looked at me and asked if I knew how to play (the instrument) I said no. The men then disappeared all together, though I could hear their cheers fade out long after they were gone.

The man asked me if I was an angel, and I very confusedly said no, I am a human, are you an angel? He didn’t really answer, just took my hands and looked towards the sky.

I knew altogether who he was, or I guess, who I thought he was and I asked him if he was Jesus. He didn’t really respond then either, just smiled warmly.

I told him that I was a witch and a pagan, that I revered his father but that I will not be Christian. I asked if he hated the fact that I work often with Father Lucifer. He smiled at me, and put his head against mine. We were eye to eye. He told me that I am very complicated- and that all his friends are very very complicated.

He then told me that I spoke to death, I said yes, he asked why. I said I wish to know it as I would know an old friend.

It was only then that I had a “realization” looking at this man. Is this actually Jesus Christ of Nazareth? Really? Oh my? All the things I could ask, what an opportunity! Not being Christian myself I could be so objective, I could get the real truth. But then I started asking questions that you wouldn’t think to ask Jesus. I don’t really know why I asked these questions now that I look back on it. I could have asked him anything.

I asked him how it felt the first time he breathed air, what did he think of water the first time he touched it? What did the smell of smoke or the feelings of digestion feel like to a God made man?? What were his first feelings of life like?

He broke out into a laughter and started putting sand in my hands. It was terribly vivid. I could feel every grain of sand running across my skin. He said he was so overjoyed to be able to experience creation first hand. I said that’s what I do with magick even though it is blasphemous, to understand the gods and the natural ways of the world was like experiencing the beauty of living for the first time.

He said he understood that very well, that “even Lucifer is brilliant to behold when beheld. That’s undeniable, don’t you agree?” and I did. He then told me that Azrael is his good friend and is a friend to all those who love life. He asked me if I am wicked, and I said that I could not stand near him if I was. Noting this, he asked if I believed he was the son of God, and I said that I believed he was a good man, I know nothing beyond that.

I asked him if I should “read his book”, he said he doubts I’d find him there.

He was always cheerful and continued to sing. I just sat with him there as he sung over the ocean waves and the loneliness that Azrael had afflicted me with had lifted altogether. His voice wasn’t perfect but it was beautiful. He wasn’t perfect either, he had some crooked teeth and some blemishes on his skin. He was handsome but not in the way that angels are. His feet were ashy from the sand he spilled a little bit of rice on himself when he ate. I cannot get his smile out of my head.

I’m… conflicted. I don’t worship God and yet this man seemed less concerned with that. He admired my pursuit of Azrael even though I had done it in such an overtly pagan way. I did not pray to Yahweh to see this man that I believe was Jesus, and yet he appeared when I invoked the angel of death. He did not preach to me about the glory of God, he just sang, shared a drink with me and held my hand. He had no problem with me working with Lucifer, he had no problem with me being a witch. He loved- adored creation. He was unlike any angel, he was extremely human and we were friends.

I don’t know what to do with this.

[folklore-fantasy-and-sci-fi]

Disclaimer: I’m not schizophrenic, just very tired of ableism in comics (and occasionally fandom). Using one of my blorbos as an example.

Hallucinations and psychosis suddenly making Todd an uncontrollable fountain of rage and fear? No. Hallucinations and psychosis peaking at a time Todd was estranged from his support network giving Ian an in to gaslight and manipulate him? While also making him more impulsive? Yes.

Victim blaming? No! Todd still being accountable for many of his actions? Yes!

[theladybarnes]

CHERRY BOMB: CHAPTER SIX

“You can't spell "America" without "Erica”

▸ summary:  at work things take a turn for the worst, but that’s not all thats in store ▸ characters: jonathan byers, billy hargrove, steve harrington, ft. scoops troop ▸ word count: 6.4k           ▸ warnings: angst, violence, semi-fluff,  ▸ series masterlist

Getting ready for work that afternoon ended up being a slower process.  Especially when the previous night kept replaying in your mind.

 Whether it be because of the conversations, the sex, or just the few hours of sleep you both got. Something felt different with Steve. Being truthful with the boy had always made things more complicated. But being honest and telling him how you felt about something for once actually felt..good.

 Though the whole notion felt terrifying, you couldn’t help but think maybe it would be time to talk to Steve about how you truly felt. 

 Picking up the photostrip from your nightstand. You smile at the picture again feeling like for the first time in a while you knew what you had to do. “Today.” you whispered to yourself. “It’s gonna happen today.”

 *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

 The loud sounds of knocking came from down the hall, making you frown at the sudden noise. Dustin was long gone this morning, and your Aunt had stepped out for some shopping. So who the hell was coming to your house now?

 “Who is it?” you called out, quickly dashing to the front door. You barely peeked an eye through the peephole when the person on the other side called out to you.

 “I need to talk to you!”

 Sighing, you opened up the door, shocked to find your friend of all people on your doorstep. “What the hell are you doing here, Creep?” you asked, turning your wrist over to look at your watch. “You should definitely be in your little red room at work..”

 “I got fired.”

 “Wow,” you mused. “Must have developed some shitty photos.”

 He grimaced at your response before he pushed his way in, moving to sit down over at the couch. Glancing at the time once more, you calculated just how many minutes you had before being late for work. But considering the fact that Jonathan hasn’t looked this stressed out in a while, you’ll take the berating from your coworker Adam.

 “All right.” you sighed, closing the door. “Tell me why you and your sour face got fired.” Plopping down on the seat beside him, you crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him carefully. 

 “Nancy.” he spat. Like the name tasted bitter on his tongue. “She got the both of us fired.”

 “What? How?”

 “Because of the ridiculous rat story that she wouldn’t give up!” Rubbing his hand over his face, he took in a deep breath before he glanced over at you. “She just kept trying to get all this information. Breaking so many rules..”  

 “Well..I mean, there’s been many journalists in the past that have gone through drastic measures to get a good story.” 

 “Yeah? And were most of their sources from a paranoid schizophrenic?”

 Your mouth formed into an ‘o’ unsure of how to even help Nancy with that knowledge. 

 “What’s worse is the family of the source is threatening to take litigation.”

 “Litigation? Against two minors? If anything that’d most likely go against the news–” The answer suddenly came to you. “..That’s why you guys got fired, isn’t it?”

 “It’s part of the reason.” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “God, I’m so screwed…I’m so screwed a-and Nancy doesn’t even get it!” Frowning at that, you can’t help but raise a brow, silently asking for him to elaborate on that.

 “She doesn’t understand how even if this was a shitty internship. It was a job! A job that I seriously needed.” Frowning down at his hands, he can’t help but mess around with the end of his tie, angrily tugging on it until he finally reached up to loosen it.

 “I’m sure she is..but you know Nance..she’s driven. It’s what you like about her.”

 “She’s driven, but lately? Careless. I told her so many times to drop this story. How it’d lead her nowhere and even if she did have a hunch, these guys wouldn’t take it.” He held his hand out looking down at the scar that laid out over the palm of his hand. “I get that she’s upset with how they’ve been treating her, and she’s right. They were assholes. But it’s hard to get a job..especially one doing what you like.”

 “I know..” you said softly. “But there’s always a chance to work somewhere else. Find a better place–”

 “Look, I know you’re trying to make sense of this but you and Nancy don’t get it.”

 “..Get what?”

 “What it’s like to be poor!” 

 You leaned back a bit, looking slightly stunned by the outburst. There wasn’t ever a time where you have ever struggled with money. Even now. The job at the pool was mostly to help keep extra pocket money. 

 “I get that I must come off like some boring Oliver Twist story. But this is my life. I’m going to have to work hard for the rest of my life to get to where I need to be. I won’t have my parents to help give me money so I can go to school wherever I want. It’ll be because of me.”

 Biting your lip, you waited for Jonathan to calm down before you slowly reached out and placed a hand on top of his. Giving him a small smile before you finally put together everything you wanted to say.

 “I’m sorry you got fired.” you started. “That must have felt super shitty. Especially since you were relying so much on the money from it.”

 Jonathan let out a breath he had been holding in. Looking even more distraught since spilling out everything. But he stayed quiet, seeming to know you’d continue.

 “You’re right about Nancy and I. We definitely come from a world where we’ll never really have the financial struggle that you’ve come to know.” Tilting your head, you try to be as tactful as you can be about something you’d never understand. “I’ve always seen how hard you worked and it’s something I’ve admired. To save money and change how your life has been right?”

 “..right.” he answered warily.

 “So it’s safe to assume Nancy would want the same thing, wouldn’t she?”

 “But Nancy doesn’t need mon–”

 “I’m not talking about Money.” you interrupted. “Nancy’s goal this summer was to work to become a successful journalist. Or at least as close to one as an intern can get.”

 “Well, yeah.”

 “And we both know that the assholes over at the paper were sort of making her life hell for that, right?”

 “Yeah, but–”

 “So it’s safe to say that sticking around in the office getting lunch and coffee for the guys isn’t really going to improve her efforts in getting any closer to that goal.”

 “Right.”

 “So what aren’t we seeing, Jonathan?” you clapped. “Because it looks like if Nancy didn’t take the initiative to try and uncover a story, then she’d have never progressed in any of the work she wanted to.” His mouth fell open a bit as he tried to stutter an answer. “She even had you working on something other than the mundane photos they had you doing for page six.”

 “But that story wasn’t leading anywhere but our termination!”

 “It was something she had to try! A chance for her to prove herself.”

 “Why does she have to prove anything to those assholes?! She could have worked her way up to an assignment like anyone else.”

 “Because as someone who’s going to have to work in a male dominated industry, standing back and taking the brunt of people’s prejudice doesn’t work when you’re a girl. They don’t see her as a strong person who deserves a chance because she managed to push through their hazing. No, they see her as a thing beneath them. Like an ant under a boot.”

 “Come on.” Jonathan sighed, falling back against the cushion. “T-that’s not how it would have gone.”

 “It would have. Okay?” Glancing at your watch, you tried to ignore the flush of panic when you noticed how long the conversation went. “Come on.” Pulling him up from the couch, you dragged him to the front door, giving him a push outside so that the both of you can head towards your cars. He looked down at the ground, frowning in what you hoped wasn’t further frustration and more so contemplation. But knowing Jonathan, he was going to mull this over for a while.

 “And look, I get that Nancy isn’t being the most considerate with your situation. Which is shitty on her part and I’d love to drive on maple street to beat her up for you but I’m running late.” He looked up at you from his car, watching as you opened up the driver’s door before you turned back to look at him. “I love you, buddy, but at the end of the day there’s one hard truth I need you to accept.” 

 “Which is what?”

 “In this world, you can change being poor. But Nancy can’t change being a girl.”

  By the time you arrive at work, you’re shocked to find that your lateness isn’t the biggest thing going on. 

 “There you are!” 

 Adam, the stupid shift lead, marched out of the front entrance the moment your car pulled in. You barely closed the door when he finally reached you. 

 “Look, sorry I’m late my friend was in need of a serious–“

 “Henderson, I really don’t give a shit about your friend. I need you for something else.” He said quickly, making you stop in place. Giving him a weird look, you’re about to ask what the hell he meant when he grabbed at your hand. Leading you over towards the locker rooms. It’s not until you’re outside the boy’s side that he finally let go.

 “What the hell is going on?” 

 “Billy!” Adam exclaimed. “He’s been a weird asshole lately but today he’s even..weirder.”

 “How?” you frowned, not having really paid attention to Billy lately. Not that you had a problem with that. The less you were involved in his life the better. 

 “He’s been in the lockers for an hour! Just under the showerhead. It’s freaking everyone out!”

 “So tell him to go home. I don’t see why you need me-”

 “You need to go in there and get him out.” Adam said simply. When you opened your mouth to rebut that he held up his hand. “You’re the only girl here who’s not only dated him before, but isn’t afraid to deal with his anger.”

 You want to argue that you have dealt with his anger and it’s never worked out in your end. But you couldn’t exactly go into details of the past few months. “Look, I get that I’m pretty good at telling him off..but I don’t want anything to do with him. It’s been really complicated for us.”

 “I promise this will be the only favor I ask from you.” Pleaded the boy, looking almost nervously at the door. “I’ll even fix your check ins so that it doesn’t show how late you’ve been this week.”

 That did sound promising. But you didn’t really have a problem with that either. “I really don’t like talking to him, Adam.”

 “I know but please. Just do this nice thing for once?”

 Biting your lip, you try and not focus on the choice of words. Having felt like an utter bitch these past few days, you figured one day where you were nice wouldn’t hurt. Pushing your hair back, you nodded at Adam. He let out a relieved breath before he shot you a thumbs up, grabbing the door for you so that you could make your way inside. 

 Once you’re in, he quickly closes the door behind you. Trapping you in the shadowy locker room with nothing but the sound of a shower running. 

 “Billy?” you called out, taking slow calculated steps. While he was your ex boyfriend, you did not want to start your work day seeing Billy naked. “There’s uh some girls outside that need help with getting the sunblock on their back. I think they’re looking for you.”

 Again there’s no response. Making you shiver a bit as you round the corner to the showers. Thankfully he’s still clothed. But the sight of him leaning against the shower with his head hung low is oddly chilling.

 “You know, if you aren’t feeling too hot there’s such a thing as calling out sick.” you said, moving to stand just a few steps away from him. The light sprinkle of water hitting at your feet. When he still didn’t respond, you worried that for a second he might actually be too sick to even move. So you reached out to gently place a hand on his shoulder.

 “Do you need me to call for help?”

 He spun around faster than you could blink, taking long strides towards you until your back hit hard against the tile wall. His cold hands wrapped tight around your throat as he brought his face towards you.

 “You’re the one who’s gonna need help.” he gritted. Glare hard on his face.

 The tightness around your throat had you frozen in place. While it was painful it thankfully wasn’t cutting off any air. But the fact that he was carefully pushing between the line of choking or not ran a chill through you.

 “Let me go.” you demanded calmly, not wanting to anger Billy as well as not show him your fear. “Billy, let me go. NOW.”

 “You must think everyone should listen to you, huh?” he spat, bringing his face in even closer. “Who died and made you the bitch in charge?” 

 “I’d like to think I present pretty good leadership–”

 He gripped tighter at your throat. Angry from your snide remark. “I’m so tired of your goddamn mouth. Always running and pissing me off.” he growled, shaking your neck a bit. The pressure turned stronger, making you feel slightly light headed before he finally let up.

 “Then let me go!” you hissed, trying to claw at his hands now. 

 “Why? So you can go run off and tell your little boyfriend?” he chuckled, pressing his body against yours now. “Oh wait, you aren’t together. Because it’s been months and you’re still single. Well, aside from the nights where I’m sure Harrington needs to get his dick wet.”

 “It’s not like that..”

 “Oh? Because let’s face it. If he actually liked you, he’d have struck up the nerve by now to actually do something about it.” Billy laughed, letting his thumb graze up to rub at the line of your jaw. “But why would he do that? You give it up for him willingly. All so that you can feel for that one minute that someone in this world might actually want you.”

 He moved his hand to grip at your jaw, forcing your gaze to be in line with his. “But no one is ever going to want you.” He said calmly. “No matter who you sleep with, no matter who you flirt with. They’ll only ever want one thing.”

 The tears you’re trying to hold back suddenly spring to your eyes. Making it hard to keep your face hard when all you want to do is break down. “Why are you doing this?” you whimpered, trying to push his hands off you.

 “Because he likes it..He likes it when you’re completely and utterly alone.”

 He?

 Before you could ask what he meant, Billy’s grip got harder, and you slowly started to feel your body rise up from the ground. The lightness returns to your head and makes you feel faint. No matter how hard you kicked or clawed at his hands, he still wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t until there was a banging at the locker room door that Billy suddenly snapped. Eyes wide as he quickly dropped you.

 “Babydoll?” he asked, confused, trying to reach out for you.

 But even with your coughing and pain in your legs, you backed away from him. Not wanting to give him the chance to torture you with his hands and weird words again. “You’re a monster!” you cried out, gripping at the base of your neck.

 “What? I-I don’t understand.”

 “Don’t understand?” you asked, getting up from the cold floor finally. “Let me help you understand.” Placing your hands on his shoulders, you roughly bring up your knee and hit him against the balls. Causing him to keel over and groan in pain. 

 He called out to you, reaching a hand up but you ignored it to rush out of the locker room. The bright sunlight nearly blinded you as you stepped out onto the main pool area. The sounds of people laughing and splashing around were almost taunting as you tried to control your emotions. What would have happened if you had stayed there? Would Billy have actually tried to kill you? 

 “Hey, that took you guys long enough. Did he finally–hey are you okay?” Adam asked, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. The sudden touch from another man today has you recoiling.

 “Don’t touch me!” you rasped, watching as his eyes grew wide. The sound of the doors behind you opening up got your attention quickly and you turned to not give Billy your back as he stepped out.

 Instead of looking remorseful or anything close to that. He looked eerily calm. A long white sleeve tank covered up his body and he gave a simple salute to the man beside you before he stalked off towards his post.

 He was acting as if nothing just happened. Like he didn’t just choke you out in the middle of the goddamn day. Ripping off the fanny pack from your waist, you shoved it hard against Adam’s chest. “I quit!” 

 Not wanting to hear his reply, you dashed off towards the front entrance. Ignoring the weird looks that some of the people around you were giving. It’s not until you’re trying to open up your car door that you see your reflection. The tears in your eyes made your mascara run and the lines around your neck were red. A total mess.

 There was only one person you wanted to see and damn it if you weren’t going to go see him now that you didn’t have a job. 

  By the time you arrive at the mall, it’s late afternoon. You gave yourself a few moments to compose yourself in the car and tried to clean up your appearance. But each time you felt yourself calm down you couldn’t help but flash back to the locker room. Reverting back to feeling so..hopeless.

 Even as you went through the mall, you felt as if you’re drifting through the crowds of people. Not fully there despite driving there yourself. 

 The minute you entered inside Scoops you felt like everyone had their eye on you. And with the way you were covering yourself, you probably did. It felt horrible. You never allowed yourself to feel this low and yet no matter how hard you tried to turn back into your normal self you couldn’t.

 You spot Dustin and Robin sitting at one of the tables with Erica, Lucas’ younger sister. The three of them looked deep in conversation. Turning to go over and join them, you open your mouth to speak when you feel a hand gently placed at the small of your back.

 “Hey, gorgeous.” Steve greeted you. Smile wide and dazzling as ever. He was holding onto a perfectly crafted banana split. “Was wondering if you were gonna–” His words cut off the moment his eyes glanced at your neck. 

Without saying anything, he held up a finger and rushed over to the table to place the ice cream down in front of Erica. Leaning in closely after that to speak to the three of them quietly. Naturally, they all glanced over at you worriedly before nodding their heads. Steve quickly returned to your side. Careful when he reached for your hand.

 “Come with me.”

  The two of you were in the backroom now. You’ve managed to retell all that happened to Steve without bursting into tears, but that didn’t stop a few lingering drops to roll past your cheeks. It’s been a couple of minutes and Steve grew uncharacteristically quiet. Only speaking to ask if he could touch your neck to check it out himself. 

 There was a pained look to his face when he began to analyze it. The tip of his finger following the dark lines over your skin. The frown was so harsh on his face. It made you wish you could reach out to wipe the concern away. 

 “Say something.” you sighed after another minute of silence.

 He pursed his lips, letting his finger gently graze at the base of your neck once more before he finally sat back. “The good news is, I don’t think the bruise will stay that long. It’ll be gnarly for the day but we have ice we can help calm that down with.”

 “And the bad news?”

 “The bad news is, I gotta leave you here.”

 “..Why?”

 “Because I gotta go kill this asshole.”

 He didn’t even give you a chance to react before he quickly stood up from the chair, already making his way towards the swinging door. You managed to quickly pull him back in, dragging him back to the table.

 “Steve, don’t.” you sighed, trying to calm him down. There was a red hue creeping up his face and you swear you’ve never seen Steve quickly turn so angry before. It’s almost weird to see this urgency and defense come for your behalf. The only other times you’ve seen this was last fall when Billy first arrived. It threw you off then and it’s throwing you off now

 “You cannot expect me to just stay here after this asshole hurt you?” he asked. 

 “I know! And I wish I could let you go after him but..”

 “But what? This dickwad thinks he can get away with this again!” Pulling out of your grip he tried for the door again before you moved to stand in front of him, blocking the way. “Please move. You have no idea how much I need to take care of this.”

 You licked your lips, shaking your head at Steve. “I know, and you’re right. But we can’t go to him right now. Not when he’s acting this deranged. Not when I’m not sure what’s going on with him.”

 “Who gives a shit what’s going on with him, trouble? He hurt you!” Moving a hand to cup at the side of your face, he leaned forward to press his forehead against yours. As if he was trying to pull you into him. “He’s hurt you so many times and just walks away freely. I need to get him back.”

 You closed your eyes reveling in the feeling of his closeness. “I need you right now, Steve. I need you here with me..”

 He breathed heavily through his nose, thankfully not letting go of you just yet. “Baby,” he pleaded. Using such a lovely pet name that you’re almost distracted at keeping him in place.. “What about–”

 “We’ll deal with him.” You cut in, keeping the focus on the right things. “I promise…just not now. Let’s just deal with the Russians first.”

 Pulling his head back, he allowed his eyes to scan over your face again. Leaning in after to press a kiss against your forehead, cheek, and then finally at your lips. Bringing a sense of warmth and comfort back inside of you for the first time in hours. 

 Neither one of you seem to care about just where you’re kissing right now. Going as far to wrap your arms around his neck to deepen it. You can’t give up the way his kisses made you feel inside. 

 Steve doesn’t seem to mind either. Allowing you to push the moment further. Only moving his hands down to your hips as he rubbed soothingly. It felt nice to have some sort of control again that helped ground you back to Earth. Something you’re thankful to Steve for.

 You sighed contently, pulling back for air later. Steve chased after your lips for a second before he gave you one last peck. “You promise after this we’ll go deal with him?” he asked softly.

 “Promise. Evil Russians first, then evil ex second.”

 Nodding his head, he pulled away from you a bit. Only stepping back enough so that he could reach down and lace your hand with his. You squeezed at his grip, giving him a small but appreciative smile. 

 “All right. Let’s get to work then.” 

 He leads the way back out, pushing the swinging door open. The two of you are slow as you walk towards the table where the other three were but you can’t help but feel you need it at the moment.

 Glancing at your side, you watched as Steve fought to compose himself again, using his other hand to rub away at the frustration that was slightly still evident on his face. 

 “You know, you’re hot when you’re protective like that.” you smirked, starting to feel a little like yourself again. “You must get that way for all your friends, huh?” 

 Steve sighed, giving you an incredulous look before he squeezed at your hand. Shaking his head. “No, not all my friends.” he said, tilting his head as he looked over you carefully. “Just you.”

 By the time you guys actually joined the others. Erica had agreed to join the group’s plan to get into the storage room. And while you weren’t comfortable with the idea of adding someone else, especially a child, to be in danger. You’d stay quiet in order to finally get this task out of the way, hopefully being the last step needed to get the proof and possibly get out of this mall. 

 Waiting with Robin for Dustin and Steve to join you guys on the roof. You took the chance with a bit of privacy to finally work on fixing up the messes from the other day. 

 “It’s becoming warm again.” You noted, wincing to yourself for such an awkward ice breaker. Beside you Robin pulled the binoculars down from her face, a somewhat shocked expression to your voice. 

 “Uh, yeah. The rain was a total pain.” 

 “Totally, hated how the weather just..kept changing. Like whiplash.” 

 “Whiplash?”

 Sniffing, you rubbed your hands together while looking out over the view. “Yeah, like one day it was nice and fun then the next day it was just a total bitch..The weather really sucks.” You stole a glance over at Robin, noticing her face stay confused. 

 “The weather..”

 “I’m the weather, Robin.”

 “Oh!”

 Chuckling a bit, you shook your head, pulling back so that you could face her better. Motioning for her to do the same so you could have her full attention.

 “I’m sorry about the other night.” you said softly. “When I’m upset and scared I tend to react harshly.” Some of the guilt from the other night began to creep back in, but you pushed that feeling aside to get through with your apology. “I shouldn’t have called you an idiot. You’re not. In fact, I think you’re one of the few smartest people I know. I just became desperate for you to understand how serious this was to me. I totally get if you hate me now.”

 Robin sat silently for a second. Fiddling with the object in her hands until she finally set it down at her side. “It’s water under the bridge.” she answered finally.

 “..Seriously?” you asked, shocked to have her so easily forgive you. 

 “Yup!”

 “But I was such a bitch to you.”

 “Were you really a bitch for trying to convince your younger cousin and I not to go after evil Russians?” she snorted, reaching up to push a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I mean, even if I still want to go through with all this, I totally get how insane it is.”

 “Still,” you frowned. “I didn’t have to stoop so low.”

 “From what Steve told us that night, you were going pretty easy on us.”

 Your mouth flopped a bit, unsure what Steve could have even said to them after you left. But considering the two big fights you’ve had with Steve in the past, you’re sure he had some examples for them. 

 “Besides,” Robin said looking down at her hands. “I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

 “Really?” 

 She smiled a bit, almost as if she was thinking of something fondly. “You’re one of the few people in Hawkins that treats me like I’m normal.” Her blue eyes glanced at you before she shyly ducked her gaze back over the balcony again. 

 “Robin, you are normal.” You were unsure why there’d be a reason for her to feel so unordinary. Sure, she wasn’t a part of the crowd of ‘popular’ students. But there were people who knew her, talked to her, and treated them like a normal peer. What made her feel so out of place?

“I don’t really feel that way.” she said honestly. “And sometimes I think people agree.” She glanced over to the rooftop door. Almost like she was expecting someone to come through. For  a second you wondered why she would even care what the people here thought. But the longer she stared, the more you began to wonder. 

 Was it the people she was worried about, or was it..

 “Steve!” she whispered, waving over to the boy. He quickly came through the door with Dustin in tow. Your younger cousin had barely spoken to you since the other night and even today he seemed to barely grunt a response to you. 

 Surprisingly, he still moved to sit by your side. Letting Steve slip in to kneel between you and Robin. 

 “You guys good?” Steve asked once he settled in, a gentle hand placed on your back. You give him a small nod before pointing over towards the other building.

 “Are you guys sure Erica won’t get stuck?”

 “The kid said she could squeeze in. She has the other walkie ready to call us in if she needs help.” He shrugged, sounding a little hesitant. “Gonna have to give her all the damn ice cream at this point.” 

 “She’ll get through. She’s a Sinclair.” Dustin chimed in, adjusting his walkie. “They’re stubborn but they sure as hell come through in the end.” Once he was done with his inspections, he passed it over to Robin before moving in to look through with the binoculars. 

 “Erica, do you copy?” Robin asked. There’s a pop in the static before you hear a response.

 “Mm-hmm. I copy…You nerds in position or what?”

 Robin pursed her lips a bit before pressing the talk button again. “Yeah, we’re in position. It’s all quiet here, so you’ve got the green light.”

 “Green light, roger that. Commence Operation Child Endangerment.” 

 You can’t help but snort a bit, appreciating the humor from this child. Steve shook his head while Robin continued to grow more frustrated, pressing into the talk button again. “Can we maybe not call it that?”

“See you on the other side.”

 Robin glanced over between you and Steve. Looking suddenly a little bit nervous for the first time. You can’t help but do a quick math count. “Shit” you muttered after your short thought. “We’re screwed.” 

 Steve leaned over, curiosity on his face. “What’s wrong?”

 “Child endangerment.” you sighed. “Level six felony. It’d be six years.” He frowned at that, looking a little in pain before he shook his head. Pointing to Dustin beside you.

 “There’s two kids.”

 “..Twelve years.”

 Robin’s face paled a bit as she gripped onto the walkie tighter. “Shit.”

  It’s a long couple of minutes of waiting before you hear from Eric again.

 “All right, nerds. I’m there.” 

 “Do you– do you see anything?”

 “Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.” Her tone was tired and sarcastic, making you chuckle a bit to yourself. Where was Lucas hiding this girl? She’s hilarious. You thought before leaning closer to hear better.

 “Any guards?”

 “Negative.” 

 “Booby traps?”

 “If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”

 You bite down on your lip, reminding yourself that while Erica’s quips were amusing, she was also possibly in immediate danger at any point. 

 “Thank you for that.” Robin replied dryly. 

 The next couple of seconds go again with no response. Making you wonder if she was actually able to get through from the vent. Just when you were about to ask Robin to call out for a response, her voice picked up again.

 “I’m in.”

 Steve’s growing worry was finally given a small relief. “Oh, God.” he groaned, moving to cover up his face with his hands. He scratched away some tension from his head. Gently, you laid a hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly when the doors burst open from below.

 Erica slowly emerged out, sass in a bit of her step as she finally found her gaze upon you four on the roof.

 “Free ice cream. FOR. LIFE.”

  The rest of you don’t waste time in making your way down below. Having to move quickly before anyone left in the mall catches you guys still around. It’s a bit crowded in the small room, but at this point the curiosity for everyone is too high to be left outside waiting.

 Dustin passed Steve his Swiss army knife for the tape that covered the top of the box. With a quick cut, the inside of the cardboard box was finally revealed. Instead of packing styrofoam or anything else that a restaurant would have, you guys are presented with a metal box.

 Steve gripped onto the handle, giving it a hard turn to its side. Causing a hiss of air to come out from the box once Steve pulled away the lid. All of you leaned forward to peek inside, shocked to find what was inside.

 “That’s definitely not Chinese food.” Steve said, breaking the group’s silence. He dropped the lid on the side, making a reach for one of the canisters inside before he glanced at the four of you. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.”

 Immediately all the girls take a large step back. Just as hesitant as Steve was at what he might pull out. Dustin on the other hand stuck close to his side. 

 “No.” 

 “Just-..just step back, okay?”

 “No.” Dustin said again.

 “Step back. Seriously.”

 “No! No!” He cried out finally. “If you die, I die.”

 “Jesus Christ.” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. You couldn’t help but gape at the dramatics coming from your cousin of all people. But considering how close he had gotten to Steve over these past few months, it made a little sense. 

 Steve seemed to share the same sentiments as he looked over at Dustin. Only giving you a slight shrug before he continued on with it. “Okay..”

 The container made a clicking noise when he turned the handle on one of the canisters. The fog seeped out of the box a little more before revealing what Steve pulled out. “What the hell?” Steve muttered.

 “What is that?” Robin added.

 “It’s..goo?” you asked, taking a step closer to inspect the object better. If you didn’t know any better, you would have guessed that these evil Russians were hoarding up neon hair gel in their food deliveries. 

 Suddenly the room rumbled, shaking the entire space. The eerie familiar feeling you get when you’re in the elevator. But that couldn’t be, you guys were just in the loading docks..

 “Was that just me, or did the room move?” Dustin asked, unfortunately confirming your suspicion. Erica only added to the worry when she whispered about booby traps. 

 As if on cue, there began another rumble to the room and you suddenly felt every hair on your body stand up.

 “You know what? Let’s just grab that and go.” Robin said, grabbing the canister from Steve’s hands to put away in Erica’s backpack.

 “Agreed, let’s get the hell out of here.” Turning to the buttons by the doorway, you pushed on the blue ‘DOOR OPEN’ and glanced at the doors. Waiting for them to reveal the outside again. But nothing happened. Dustin, noticing right away, joined you at your side, doing the same thing.

 'Which one do we press, Erica?’

 “Just press the damn button, nerd.”

 “Which one? I’m pressing the button, okay?”

 “Press ‘open door’!”

 “We’re pressing ‘open door’!”

At this point you’re practically punching at the button with your finger when Steve appeared. Pushing your hand away gently as he urged for another method. But Dustin in his panic did stop, trying to press the door Erica had said. 

 “Press the other button!”

 “Guys get out of the way so she can push the button!” Robin said from the back. 

 The two continued to push against all the buttons and you panicked at the amount of things being hit without any change to the room. “Do you guys think pushing everything is really what we want to do?” you frowned, pushing at the open door again.

 “Are you serious right now? That’s not working.” Steve argued, pressing all the other buttons again. Dustin kept sneaking his hand in, causing the other boy to grow frustrated as he started slapping at the buttons.

 Everyone is too busy arguing with each other that you all miss the final hit against the lock box that finally set the room off. The metal gears turned and a large red door began to close down over the double doors you guys had originally entered in.

 There’s a second of silence before suddenly the room began to drop.

 Erica and Robin instantly burst out into screams and all of you struggled to balance yourselves. You reached out to hold onto Dustin, feeling your legs turn into jelly while the air quickly left your lungs.

 “Steve!” you gasped, pointing over to the windows of the room. He followed to where you were pointing, eyes wide at the sight. Just like in an elevator, the walls surrounding the room began to blur past as you guys descended down into the earth at a rapid speed.

 “Oh, shit.”

a/n: this is so messy!!! but i hope you guys enjoyed it

[faustianslip]

I allowed myself to believe that we as a society were trying to become more accepting of demonized mental disorders like cluster b personality types and schizophrenic spectrum disorders but nope I was wrong, it is actually legitimately becoming worse.

I don’t know what to blame for this more aggressive attitude towards demonized mental illnesses, especially those with npd and aspd, but it’s just something I’ve been noticing lately. It’s especially bad on TikTok, where those extremely clickbaity “how to combat someone with [insert demonized disorder]” or “5 signs you’re dating an undercover psychopath” videos get popular. It’s like everyone is suddenly a licensed psychologist-

I don’t know how to tell you this but no, not every evil person or abuser in your life is some sociopath or someone with NPD. Abusers are abusers, their bad behavior is not synonymous with a mental disorder they might have. Just as a mental disorder isn’t an excuse for bad behavior, a mental disorder isn’t the reason why someone has bad behavior…they’re just a bad person.

People seem to use these disorders as a synonym for “monster”, and that is a dehumanizing thing. I, as someone with ASPD, don’t exactly jump for joy at being treated like a monster. I don’t like being treated like a time bomb and I don’t like knowing that most people, even therapists, seem to believe that I’m not entitled to care or having access to getting therapeutic help. It’s isolating, I find it hard to make friends, I find it hard to even be myself in any community or even be open about me having ASPD.

If you want to make a world that is more accepting and where people should have access to help, this must include people with demonized mental disorders. You can’t just pick and choose who deserves help or not-

[cartoonscientist]

I struggle to write traditional horror because I’m mostly unaffected by the things that most people find scary, but then when I come up with an idea that I personally find truly chilling and disturbing, other people are all “…this literally makes no sense, this is like an absurdist joke”, so I just write a regular story using horror elements that I think are cool and people usually end up getting freaked out anyway so like, win-win

examples of things that I think would be scary: a hidden fountain suddenly turning on, a beep in your house sometimes but you can’t tell what it’s coming from, distant music/radio chatter, geometric shapes in unexpected places, a person unexpectedly being in a hallway, small floating orbs/spheres

…you know what these are all obviously just things that a neurodivergent/schizophrenic person would find upsetting to experience/think about lmao

[museandquill]

This is far from my usual content so I didn’t know if I wanted to talk about this but I’ve finally decided I want to. Content and trigger warnings for schizophrenia, death, and abandonment (I don’t have schizophrenia but I talk about it)

So here’s some background information. My aunt had schizophrenia and died a few years ago. I was never allowed to be around her when she was alive, the only memory of her face I have is from her funeral. My dad (her brother) and my grandma (her father) hardly, if ever, talked to her. I’m almost positive they never knew she was married.

Now, as I’ve gotten older I’ve developed a fear of developing schizophrenia, but not because of the stories I’ve heard of my aunt (which all have been negative), no, it’s because of the fact my family abandonment and ostracized her.

I was watching a horror movie with my friends and the topic of ghosts came up (it was the second paranormal activity movie so it makes sense.) My friend, we’ll call him W, doesn’t believe in ghost, that’s fine but I do. So I told him a story of a ghost experience that I had that involved footsteps from a few years ago. When I mentioned I believed in ghosts, he started talking to me like I was stupid. So I was already pissed since that’s the fastest way to piss me off.

Now my friends were giving him shit for being a skeptic and at one point he says “It’s not my fault Teddy thinks he heard footsteps and is suddenly schizophrenic.”

When I say I got pissed, I got pissed. I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my body and my blood pressure going up. I told him to shut the fuck up and I hardly spoke the rest of the night.

Now he did apologize but, he still said it.

So here’s my question. Why do we allow people to say things like that? Why do people think it’s okay to say things like that? This man is going into psychology and he still decided to say that just because he ‘thinks’ I heard footsteps.

I don’t know, it still makes me mad and upset when I think about it.

[lifenconcepts]

I feel my soul shining, I really do. To see among the cracks of what makes our reality - I’m utterly blessed and grateful for the gashed or light within us, what there more than to just bask in this feeling?

Alive, I am alive. Yet so are you. God. The only thing I struggle with is letting go of my perception - I’ve already sacrificed plenty more to reach a state of peak nirvana and I don’t regret a thing, but it is a mistake both to keep and to lose perception - on one hand, I will finally be free from the expectations and opinions of others, holding myself to my own values.. yet on the other - I won’t be able to limit myself in expressing these thoughts! oh I just know people are eager to proclaim me insane, anything along the lines of schizophrenic, god complex, bpd, whatever you have up your sleeve - I know I did, I simply couldn’t get my mind around how there could be something so wildly present around me and everywhere yet that also exists nowhere, it didn’t go with my beliefs! the things that very much made me! I’ve grown to appreciate concrete things and make sure everything is able to be understood and defined, but now my guides just.. allow me to see that meaning has no meaning?

I used to be afraid. Afraid of the unknown. I think we all were at some point; new places, new people, new ideas, new things, new concepts, new opportunities, new paths, and new ways of life and thought. I used to think of any way I could be proven wrong or unpleasant something could happen, “what if it’s all just in my head?! What if I won’t be able to stay sane and coherent if I found out some galactical truth!?” Well I tell you one thing for sure, it came naturally. I didn’t need to seek or destroy or beg for anything, enlightenment eventually came, I always knew it would, but it’s all too uniform. I know they’re holding out on me, entrusting me with baby steps, as in my eyes - I’m already far ahead of where I expected I could be, I’m leaving most people behind with the way my mind progresses - I understand them yet they’re no longer me, and boy oh boy does it feel strangely pleasant… still, as per my desperate requests, they’re allowing me to sit and process. We’re unable to just suddenly obtain it all and stay coherent, it’s too much to take in at once, let alone accept or share. So to communicate is to stay more or less stationary and take baby steps, to advance is to venture onward without fear of losing something else, but to be truly godly is to not lose yourself and the things that make you.

Values can change and evolve, it’s only right. I’ve went from being against, for, and with the queer community, but as I’ve experienced all stages and points, I’ve just progressed further - a state of no longer even owning the concepts. Gender? Sexuality? I understand what you mean, I do.. yet I simply left them behind. Yes, yes ofcourse I remember how it was and understand you, it’s as if I’m in your blood, yet I’ve grown out of it. No it doesn’t mean you will too, and yes for your comfort I’ll still go by what I once did, as I truly understand. I can still be who I was, and I will continue as such, yet I’m simply not my past self. Identities always have and will change - but if you’re not ready to accept things into the realm of the divine I’ll be unaffected. You know how a dog may carry on being a puppy? That’s what you are to me. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, it’s actually beautiful, yet to a bystander it’s clear that what made the canine still stayed there, and it just never really matured. In all honesty, nothing is ever made the same, no dog, no human. Its all just concepts either way - language must be taught as it’s also a made up factor, yet you know what always stays? What continues to be, no matter how broke and battered, happy and sacred, determined and restless, weak and sick a creature may be? Being. Wether it be hurt, scared, excited, worried, thankful, confused, yearning, hungry, considerate, kind, strong..

To be able to figure out the ins and outs, the whys and hows, isn’t a byproduct - it’s a privilege. A treat. A gift for how far we’ve already come. You think there’s a purpose more than simply being? Don’t humour me! The only thing you must do is quench the desire within your soul. Human existence may be inherently unknown, but a life is a path. A path your soul chose to take and live through - it has its own goals and desires, STOP LIVING A LIFE THAT SOCIETY MADE YOU and hear the little pounding light within, what makes you feel whole? Strangely happy? Fulfilled? What’s that thing you just can’t stop loving despite having no clue why it is or where it formed? Is it an interest, a hobby, a place? Where do you feel at home - no, truly.. home. Is there a burning flame inside you that wants an activity or have other people stuffed it. Stop comparing yourself to the achievements of others - you were never meant to do that no matter what other led you to believe, shut your forced logic and feel.. feel the energy coursing through you, feel your heart beat. Feel it beating. Can you hear? What does the sky tell you? The desires must be quenched. What do you crave?! No- what does your soul, your soul! Your soul want.. please hear your soul, it’s begging you, ITS CALLING! can’t you see - fate brought you here.

you were never meant to be a product of a system, you’re meant to bloom and blossom. Have you become what you set out to be? Have you!? Where’s that child - where are those whimsical dreams?

hear the wind, the whistling silence. It’s deafening. It’s suffocating. You’ll burn out like a dying star before you look upon your grace with contentness. All are different and all need specific approaches, so find yours. Find… yours.

[tainted-liquor]

hi guys! Just wanted to make a quick follow up abt mental health, specifically schizophrenia

alright so, as you know people are trying to excuse their actions with mental illnesses as of late and say they are “experiencing episodes”.

let me remind you, someone with UNDIAGNOSED and UNMEDICATED schizophrenia will usually not know if they’re having the episode. Because if they KNEW, they’d most likely stop it themselves or refrain from doing anything that would hurt others. By acknowledging you are having an episode, you are consciously acknowledging that you don’t NORMALLY behave this way. The excuse of ‘suddenly having an episode’ does not work, because schizophrenia alters your way of thinking/behaving. You wouldn’t KNOW, because you’d think what you were saying was true/normal.

I’m gonna use an example.

Ok, let’s say sally is schizophrenic. Because she is diagnosed with this condition, she knows she will have moments where she will believe things that might not be true or think some things that aren’t necessarily positive. Sally does a good job at taking her meds, grounding herself, and buckling down when she feels as though she might slip into an episode. Sally seeks out a therapist, or if she can’t afford one, a trusted loved one to talk to whenever she doesn’t feel her best.

Sally is mature and knows how to properly manage herself.

now let’s take a look at Ruby.

Ruby has ‘undiagnosed’ schizophrenia and isn’t taking meds, or even considering talking to loved ones. Whenever she has an episode, she coincidentally doesn’t behave any differently or think any differently. Episodes can last for days, weeks, and VERY RARELY months. For someone to slip in and out of an episode in under 3 minutes is nearly unheard of. Now, let’s take a look at one of Ruby’s ‘episodes’.

Ruby was caught lying on two of her friends because she wanted to see some sort of situation spark. When confronted about the matter, she says she’s having an episode. If Ruby is having a real episode, the most logical thing to do is apologize for your behavior and ground yourself. Whether this be talking it out with a loved one, writing in a diary, or seeking actual help from a licensed therapist for her undiagnosed schizophrenia.

schizophrenia DOES NOT work like Ruby! Ruby is painting a false and very harmful narrative for schizophrenia, and is damaging the people who do have schizophrenia by making it harder to get diagnosed, and spreading false info. PLEASE, if you feel like you have some sort of mental health condition, try to get diagnosed before running around with the tag. I know therapy is expensive, but there are always services that provide free therapy for minors. DO YOUR RESEARCH! Don’t ask people online, because they cannot help you.

[nakedbibi333]

baby, i was feeling insanely confident about my manifesting abilities. but suddenly, one of my biggest intrusive thoughts came to the surface again: i’m afraid to live in the end and it turns out that i’m just extremely delusional and even schizophrenic, like i’m the only one who sees that i look like my ideal self and live my dream life. do you have anything to say that will calm me down?

Intrusive thoughts don't manifest. You are not your thoughts. I like the idea that you don't have to assign any meaning to your thoughts. They're just that, thoughts. They are products of your state, and they don't define you.

[lains-corner]

LAYER 03: WEIRD

hello internet, I’m sorry I haven’t been posting again, a lot of weird things have been happening the last couple days. I bought this pretty stone from a crystal shop that has the word “dream” carved in it and ever since I bought it my dreams have been seeming to detail the future, i predicted a ant infestation in my house and certain conversations with other people. It’s been scaring me because yesterday night I had a dream my favorite character was talking to me telepathicly *this is normal for me* and I was on a walk and suddenly he says he has me and my world suddenly morphs before my eyes into his universe, it was absolutely horrifying. It scares me deeply, I don’t understand why this is happening at all. But it will be ok, I just need to stay calm. I hope your day is ok! Before anyone asks, I am a diagnosed schizophrenic but this is not normal for me, this jsut started happening very recently.

[purplesurveys]

1690

1.) What did you do last Friday night? Do you have any plans for the upcoming Friday night? Watched a few news features on the Titanic wreck submarine; played Rhythm Hive because apparently the game went through a major overhaul and looks and plays completely differently now; and spent nearly the entire rest of the evening watching both old and new Smosh videos because Anthony coming back is the best news that could’ve come out this week. 2.) When does spring break start for you? We don’t have that concept here as we don’t even have that season here.

3.) Do you have anything planned for June so far? The eventful part of my June is over now; I’ve seen Yoongi, been to Thailand, been to Malaysia, walked 15,000 steps for two weeks straight...the only thing left to do is to reclaim my time at home and rest up.

4.) What is the weather like right now? It’s a little warm this morning but I’m not dying. One thing I picked up from my Thailand trip is to never fucking complain about Philippine weather ever again LOL – I thought it was humid enough here, but the moment I stepped out of Bangkok’s airport I was slapped in the face with air that was like, twice, thrice as heavy. The daily weather made the Philippines suddenly feel like Antarctica.

5.) What song are you listening to? I’m not listening to music and rarely do so when I take surveys because I end up getting distracted and never finishing any of these.

6.) Name all the people that you talked to today. Online, through texts and in person. Mom, dad, sister, the Grab rider who did my McDo delivery at around 1 AM earlier. Oh I also talked to a work-related person this morning, but fortunately I’m not leading the event so I just went on Viber to answer a question she had.

7.) Do you know anyone who self-harms? I really hope I don’t; but at this stage in mine and my loved ones’ lives it’s great to see everyone flourishing and happy and as far as I know, the people that I know who used to do it don’t anymore.

8.) If you have a science class, who did you last talk to in that class? I haven’t been in a classroom since pre-pandemic 2020.

9.) What did you eat for lunch today? I’m having leftover kimbap from two weeks ago! I was struggling to find food in the fridge so I opened every single Tupperware we had in there only to find out that nobody has touched the kimbap I got :)))) Feeling pretty giddy ngl, it’s my favorite Korean food hehe.

10.) If you were president, which one would you legalise first: abortion, gay marriage or marijuana? Not in the choices, but divorce. Then abortion, then gay marriage, then I don’t really care for marijuana.

11.) What are your parents’ names and what do they do for a living? My mom’s an admin secretary in a hotel and my dad’s an executive sous chef.

12.) Do you have any siblings? What are their names, age and grade they are in? Don’t you think you’re being a little too nosy? Anyway, one is 23 and is already working; the other is 20 and a freshman in college.

13.) Do you know a schizophrenic person? I don’t.

14.) Do you have a threewords.me account? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.

15.) Who were you last in a car with and where did you go? That was with Celeste and I was just taking her home because no driver was accepting her Grab booking.

16.) Aren’t you excited for the 4th season of Jersey Shore?! I was never an avid watcher. I watched a few episodes of the first season but I was 11 and immediately knew I wasn’t supposed to be watching something like it, lol. 

17.) Did you ever watch Sailor Moon? If so, who is your favourite? No I don’t like anime.

18.) Have you seen the game show “Baggage”? Nope, haven’t heard of it.

19.) Name the last 3 people you kissed and list one nice thing about each one. I’ve only kissed one person but as for a nice thing about her, uh... she’s nice to her sisters? Idk.

20.) Have you ever had cranberry vodka? No. Sounds nasty.

21.) When was the last time you felt EXTREMELY depressed? Why is that? I go through low periods quite regularly, but if you wanna go with EXTREME depression then I’d have to take you back to late 2020 to early 2021. They were terrible days but I do fondly look back on that period as the moments before BTS dragged and hurled me into their world.

22.) Don’t you just want to move out of your parents’ home already? It’d be cool if I do but I’m not in a rush. The average pay here makes it impossible to have your own place in your 20s to early 30s anyway.

23.) Are you friends with a Conner? No, that’s an extremely foreign-sounding name where I’m from. The only Conners you’ll ever find here would be tourists.

24.) Would you ever dye your hair pink? Nah.

25.) Who was the last person to kiss your forehead? No clue.