#that was based in consent-based patient-first care and WORKED

[variousqueerthings]

And twenty years after government officially declared that being trans is not a mental illness, why is trans healthcare still located in NHS mental health trusts instead of in ordinary district general hospitals?

Gender Identity Clinics: Genesis and Unoriginal Sin

[rose-l-20]

GENERAL NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM HEADCANONS - Main 7 characters

SUMMARY: Just some headcanons I have always had based on the characters and the way the movie portrays them.

If you would like to request more characters, please refer to my NATM MASTERLIST for the characters, and send your request!

WARNINGS: Fluff, angst, romance, discussions of trauma, funny moments, flashbacks, mentions of loss, mentions of betrayal, mentions of homesickness, reader is mentioned a bit. My opinions! 😱

Any facts I wasn't sure of I used wiki fandom!

AHKMENRAH:

As many people have suggested, Ahk is a HUGE cat person. Before he was left in the sarcophagus for 4000 years, he had 100s and 1000s of cats. Different breads, both female and male, long royal names for each one. But his favourite will always be his childhood cat that started his love for the feline animal.

Out of all characters, Ahk experiences the most homesickness. This could be because he was barely 18 before he died, so he still has a touch of childhood in his soul.

Always ready and eager to learn something new, or info dump on the closest set of ears. When he gets with reader, he waits patiently for the “safe zone” to spill every fact about his time. Also things he read in books at Cambridge and the museum. You could call him a broken tap!

One way that calms him down is humming nursery rhymes, and songs his Mother used to sing to him. The main time it works impeccably is when he thinks of his brother’s betrayal.

Since the tablet was first created, his (along with his family) soul has always had a strong connection to night. So he goes to the roof top, or a window and star gazes anytime he can.

Ahkmenrah will defend the Kardashian and Jenner women until the end of time (if you know, you know 😂).

When he is introduced to chocolate, Garlic bread, sour gummy candies and Iced water. He felt like he met heaven.

Is very serious, yet still his usual gentle and kind self, when it comes to romantic relationships. He will take each step at a time, really wanting to get to know his potential partner. Consent Pharaoh, drinks his “I respect women” juice, will ask you to be his officially at the four month mark, and will not kiss your lips until you are official.

Absolutely dreads sunrise, as the wraps take as he would say “a whole millennium” to get them back on. At the beginning he would get Teddy and Larry to help him, but it becomes a special thing between him and reader.

Ahk most likely feels the most safe and comfortable around Larry, as he has moments where he needs advice or guidance from a father figure.

Ahkmenrah loves a good, lighthearted, non offensive prank. When he and Nick hang out, chaos will follow.

Both Sacagawea and Ahkmenrah supported each other when getting adjusted to not being trapped in their exhibits. This started their friendship.

When he became a DJ, he felt his death age the most. He found a passion that he could learn, perfect and show it off to the people he cares most about

OCTAVIUS:

Octavius talks about Rome so much that he definitely fits the stereotype of “you make your background your whole personality”. He will get defensive if the stereotype is mentioned.

If he and Jed were to be parents, they would 100% have adopted 2 Girls and 2 boys. Octavius would surprisingly be the fun Dad.

Before Larry, he had a massive hatred towards the night guards. He was fine with being locked up, he had his comrades. What angered him was the derogatory comments made by the guards. It took months upon months to wake up and not be filled with immediate dread.

He is a BIG chick flick fan! He also loves the whole concept of Christmas, so his favourite flick would be Love Actually.

He can read Dexter like an open book. he learns the signs of Dexter’s cheeky behavior to avoid another “Pompeii” situation.

Each time he hears any sword noises he smiles to himself and whispers to himself, “Ah Rome, you were a wonderful empire to be apart of”

He is also an avid info dumper, so there can be hours of time where he and Ahkmenrah bond over their “ancient times”. The 2 find so many similarities and differences that leave them fascinated to learn more.

The Cowboy hat rule, also applies for his helmet. And he will only take it off for extended periods of time if Jedediah is present. This is because he would kill for a head scratch.

Octavius will slip into Latin whenever he is feeling intense levels of emotion (positive). The amount of times it has happened, has resulted in everyone, including reader, being able to understand the language and somewhat communicate.

He uses the Latin version of pet names for Jed. He mainly uses “Amica mea” (my love), “Puer meus vacca” (my cowboy), “Solis radius” (sun ray) and “Mutum Asinum” (dumb ass).

Octavius is the type to bottle his emotions when something has deeply upset him. It takes a lot to get him to take the cap off and explain why he is feeling the way he is.

Octavius is super supportive of other religions and cultures. Which is super rare given Romans pride themselves on their religion and culture above everything.

When Octavius discovered the front desks computer, he immediately (with great struggle since the apparatus had not been made yet) he became so obsessed with it you could call him a teenager. He honestly gatekept it for ages before he found something that Jedediah would like and then it became their fun activity before sunrise.

JEDEDIAH:

Jedediah definitely has ADHD to a certain degree (This is coming from someone who is definitely has it but has yet to be officially diagnosed 😂), and has to be redirected to the main topic at least 3 times a day.

When he was trapped in the hourglass by Kahmunrah, he did everything in his power to cause havoc. Jedediah wasn't stuck with Kahmunrah, Kahmunrah was stuck with Jedediah!!

When Octavius showed him he computer, he consumed every piece of western media as he wanted to know how people perceived his time period.

He gets along with everyone, and only hates people if they have treated the people he cares about in a negative way. He is more then willing to take the blame or pain for others.

Jed will take a secret to his grave, but he will sometimes tell Octavius so technically they will be taking it to the grave. He will not tell him if the person who confided in him, was going through a difficult time. He understands boundaries...to a certain extent.

Jed is a HUGE foodie, and has a tendency to say "are you going to finish that?" even if the person eating is literally chewing their food. he would kill for anything that has an element of bread. Hence why he doesn't shut up about flapjacks.

His way of showing he is really angry or upset is going completely, utterly, eerily silent. It honestly makes people get the creeps, since they are so used to his upbeat usual self.

He can feel lost at times in regards to being a museum exhibit. He has organic thoughts of the future, but then he remembers he's a miniature figurine and feels this overwhelming sense of identity dysphoria. Reader (who is either another night guard or a child of a staff member) helps him feel more human, with a sense of purpose.

His favourite western movie is Tombstone, and quotes "I'm your Huckleberry" whenever people call for him. it brings him immense joy.

In his time, I see him having a female dog named Bonnie and a male cat named Blaize. He mentions this to Larry and he sends in a request at the sculpting department to make them for him. Larry makes sure no detail is left unadded. When Jedediah wakes up 2 nights later he is greeted with the familiar bark, and meow that he remembered so clearly.

Jed has an assigned swear jar and adds to it 20+ times a night.

ATTILA:

ATTILA IS INSANLY GOOD WITH KIDS! He has that scene at the end of the second movie, which backs me up here. But even before then I got this vibe that if you accidently left your child near his exhibit, he would be the Tony Stark of the museum and think "Get me the adoption papers now!".

When Attila and the Huns discovered Harry potter, they became obsessed as it fits their belief in magic. They have watched all seven movies a concerning amount of time each.

Attila was a huge help with getting Ahkmenrah adjusted to his new normal. When he first noticed Ahk's struggles he didn't think twice before he put a hand on his shoulder, asked him to go for a walk and got him to open up. He is like the uncle you go to when your parents "Just don't get it!".

Attila 100% has a RIWTKYF, "Resting I Want To Kill You Face". This has been one of many reasons why some of his friendships with the other exhibits took a while to come to fruition.

When Nick was still young, he politely asked Attila if he could try on his helmet. Larry tried to lecture him, stating "It is sacred Nick, that is not ok". Larry received a slap to the back of the head by Attila, with a "Shush". He placed the Helmet on Nicks head and told the Huns "He is the leader for the night!". Nick Had a blast to say the least.

Speaking of Attila's Helmet, he has heard a lot of drama sessions from Jed and Octavius. sometimes he joins in, sometimes he is happy to just listen.

Attila lowkey can't stand the Neaderthal's constant "FIRE FIRE FIRE" sometimes. He can hear it either next to him or down the hallway and it gives him a serious headache. Ahk will offer his exhibit for some relief.

Before Attila passed away he had just been married, so he often wonders what happened to his wife and misses her deeply. Larry and reader enjoy reading books to him, so he knows about her life. He left the room with a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.

Teddy and Attila definitely have conversations/interactions that show they are stuck in their 40s/50s. I'm talking getting frustrated with technology, not understanding modern day slang, saying "Back in my day" and the "Dad grunt".

If Attila discovered music, he would LOVE the band The Village people, his favourite song is "In the navy". He asks Larry or reader to put the song on by pointing to the computer saying "Navy please".

Attila had the hardest time adjusting to waking up from the tablet. because he also needed to take care of his Huns. He pretended to be strong and that the whole situation wasn't affecting him at all, when in reality he was losing it inside.

SACAGAWEA:

Sacagawea was so relived when the glass on her exhibit wasn’t fixed. She was dreading going back to only hearing the Clark brothers yapping.

Sacagawea was low key checking Teddy out to, but the glass was stopping her from getting his attention.

When Sacagawea meets reader (for the sake of the point reader has ribcage length hair) she is so happy to meet another woman, that her way of bonding is offering to braid readers hair. As she braids they talk and get to know each other.

She may be a soft spoken and rational person but get her mad, and she her voice will ring in her ears for weeks.

Sacagawea got a photo of Teddy, and hid it in her clothes when the tablet wasn’t in the museum and in London.

Ahkmenrah, Sacagawea and Teddy create a “new exhibit adjustment program” for new or moved exhibits. They would’ve love that, so they started it for them to fill that void.

Sacagawea is always the logical voice of reason when there is a difficult situation happening. Let’s just say that the men of the museum would be done for without her 😂

When Sacagawea first sees a woman in pants she is so happy to know that women get to do the same things as men in modern day. Reader loves explaining the history of feminism.

Sacagawea’s love language with Teddy is acts of service, which we get a taste for when she helps connect his lower body back to his upper body. Teddy is still trying to give her the perfect thank you gift, but she kindly refuses them saying she is happy to just be with him.

She has the job of scolding Dexter when he’s being naughty because he is low key scared of her.

When she discovers music and movies she loves 70s soft pop and action romance.

Her way of knowing how fast time was going was watching Nick grow up. Each time she noticed even the smaller changes in his appearance, voice or personality Sacagawea would feel a huge shift in time.

TEDDY:

Teddy requests a newspaper that has the current state of the US’ politics. He has on many occasions thrown it in the air, walked towards the door screaming “I AM GOING TO TEACH THEM HOW TO RUN A CONTRY!”. Lucky Sacagawea has stopped him every time.

When he gives advice it’s either well thought out and considerate of one’s emotions, or he is straight to the point and cutthroat. Absolutely no in between.

Teddy and Ahk had a very awkward period of time because Teddy felt bad for shutting him up instead of helping him get out of his sarcophagus. Ahk being Ahk put it passed him and they got on like a house on fire.

When everyone dances and has fun, he is more happy to be watching on the side. He claims he’s “to old” to be dancing, reader disagrees and gets him to let loose on the dance floor!

He started the swear jar for Jed, as he got sick of “Fuck this” “shit” “asshole!” Every single sentence. Once the jar was full he took the money and put it towards the upkeep of the museum. His way of paying for something as it made him feel human again.

He definitely called MEMEs “Meh Mehs” for the first year of knowing about them.

He couldn’t find Sir Lancelot serious at all!! Every time he spoke Teddy covered his mouth to hide his smile or laugh. He was so close to calling him “The fool” “sir Erik” or “Jingle-elot”.

Teddy’s hat or pockets are Jedediah and Octavius’s backup travel option if Attila was unable to help with transportation.

His role in the NEAP is to show the new exhibit around and get them adjusted to the place they will temporarily/permanently call home for their time there.

When he first Jump scared Larry, he realised how evilly joyful it was and makes it his mission to scare him every night.

Teddy’s way of passing time before getting ready for sunrise is making sure Texas is looking sharp and clean. He enjoys having a quiet conversation while he listens to the brush run through Texas’ Maine.

After the “At their size, they’ll bake like tiny little scarabs in the Sinai…too dark?” Moment with Ahkmenrah. He can be a little scared of him at times 😂

He loves the 3 seconds of “warmth” the sun gives him before he goes to sleep. Thats when he feels most human.

LARRY:

Larry after a while had the realisation that the instructions were actually the ways the prior guards used to punish them, and burned it. From this he wrote a whole new instruction guide to help the newer guards after him.

He has created a schedule for the Easter island statue because there were some close calls near sunrise. But he won’t stop giving him his “Gum Gum” as it causes the worst earthquakes from his screams!

He may have a love-hate relationship with Dexter, but he is ready to defend the capuchin with his whole heart.

When Nick was young he set up a little “bedroom” for him so he could sleep there on school nights and not be affected the next day. Is incredibly lenient to letting him have a sleep in or skip school when there is a reasonable gap between each time.

When Mr McPhee has pissed him off a little too much, he has 100% planned ways to beat home up or kill him.

He has shown the civil war dudes what NASCAR is and they become obsessed. He feels really proud of himself for it.

Shit talks about Kahmunrah with Ahkmenrah. They have the an ungodly amount of glee from it.

He cannot hold a romantic relationship to save his life! But once he starts teaching he meets his forever partner at the front desk of the collage he works at 7 years into the job. Nick approved immediately.

He took inspiration from Star Wars for his flashlight tricks, and will on occasion make lightsaber noises.

It still trips Larry out that’s he met, made eye contact and spoke to Hugh Jackman, and sometimes he needs to sit down and process it.

He loves to put on Kahmunrah’s lisp from time to time to make jedediah laugh when he’s feeling down. Jed is always left in stitches after.

He has nightmares of the multi-headed snake at least once a month. This causes him to develop a deep fare of snakes in general.

-

I hope these Headcanons were good!

Have a lovely day/night!

[deathbxnny]

Can i request for JJK HCs of Yuta, Yuji, and Megumi with a Huohuo (from HSR) like reader? I was inspired by Huohuo trailer where she gets possessed by Tail and exorcised a spirit with a technique that reminds me of the Domain Expansion from JJK.

Context:

So the reader accidentally became a vessel for a powerful cursed spirit (which is tail) when they were 6 years old. Immediately, they were taken in custody by the Tokyo Jujutsu High. Like Yuji and Yuta, they were at first planned to be executed but thankfully Gojo stepped in and ensure they do not receive that fate (they're a child for God sake) and put them under his care.

Now they are 13 years old and are now beginning to go to the field because of their abilities which are the same ones Huohuo has in game and also they can exorcise cursed spirits when Tail possess them (with consent) like during Huohuo's trailer

Now how do those three react to meeting the reader and realized they are a crybaby and pretty young and why the hell is a child is on the field rn??? (The elders forced it, despite Gojo doing everything he could)

How do those three react that despite being young and a scaredy cat, the reader is actually pretty strong?

How do those three react to seeing Tail being mean to the reader and it being crystal clear that he does care for them like a father?

I remembered you saying that despite not doing any HSR request, readers who are based on HSR characters for request on other fandoms were still acceptable. If i remembered wrong, sorry 😅, you can just ignore this request or put it in the pending waitlist. Hope you have a good day/night though

- Flower Anon 🌸

Hello flower Anon!! Sorry that this took so long to complete. Work has been torturing me as usual, so yeah, please forgive me. I really love this request, though, especially as it has Yuta in it, who's one of my favorites, lol.

Also, these are technically not headcanons and just small stories for the characters, but I've been desperate to write more, so I hope that's okay with you and that you'll like them!!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, preteen reader, mentions of battles, cursing, kinda unserious, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》YUTA OKKOTSU

Yuta was a little bewildered at first when he saw a kid shakily appear onto the battlefield, clearly scared and terrified of the curses that surrounded them. He opened his mouth to tell you to get away and hide, when suddenly a curse in the form of a tail swished into view behind you, clearly annoyed at how you were acting.

"They're not going to exorcize themselves, you know? Get it together and attack them already!" It hissed, making you whimper and quickly wave your flag in terror when a curse attempted to injure you. The tail curse then suddenly posessed you quicker than Yuta could move to save you. Its energy was so strong, however, that it made the teen freeze in surprise. One swipe of your hand essentially disintegrated the curse on the spot.

"Just... who are you?" Yuta asked carefully, arms crossed patiently for answer, when you two got out of the danger zone. You nervously fidgeted under his gaze and went to speak when Mr. Tail beat you to it quite rudely. "Why does it matter to you? The kid got enough to deal with because of you weirdos, so give them a break." He said, making the older boy raise a brow in interest. It seemed like you two had something in common, even if Rika's care for Yuta was alot... kinder, if you could say that.

On your walk back to the school, you told him all about your origins and what got you here in the first place. At the sound of the elders having a hand in this, he couldn't help but sigh. That wasn't all too surprising somehow. He was just glad that the curse you were posessed by seemed to genuinely care for you, despite his uncaring and rude attitude.

"Well... if you want, I can help train you-" "-Absolutely not!-" "-Mr. Taillll!" At your exasperated, teary eyed plea, the curse couldn't help but roll his eyes and give in anyways. "Fine... but no funny business, got it?" Yuta gave you a playful and amused smile as he raised his arms in faux defeat.

"I wouldn't dare to."

》YUJI ITADORI

Yuji tried dragging you off the battlefield before you could even show off your abilities, thinking you were simply a lost child, until Mr. Tail eventually was sick of your one-sided arguing in which you were just nervously trying to stutter out the reason for your appearance, whilst the pink haired sorcerer attempted to "scold" you for being there. "Ey you! Let the damned kid go!" He yelled out, making both of you pause.

Shivering in fear, you quickly tried to make up excuses, considering that you've heard more than enough from Yuji and the curse he was a vessel for. But Mr. Tail clearly didn't care enough. "Huh?? Woah, your tail can speak?? Wait, you have a tail-" "-I'm a curse, dumbass!" Yuji blinked before a bright grin crossed his face. "Oh wow! So we're both possessed by a rude curse? Haha, we have so much in common already!" You attempt to smile back shakily but were clearly too anxious to keep it up for long. Especially when you were still surrounded by evil curses practically waiting to attack you.

"Well, anyways, you look pretty young, so you can't be the backup Gojo talked about..." "U-uhm... actually, we are the backup..." "Oh... that's cool then! Show me what you got!" Mr. Tail deadpanned in annoyance, absolutely over this already, as he simply possessed you and took care of the enemy curses himself.

Once he was done doing so, and he finally let you return to normal, Yuji clapped his hand with a determined and proud nod. "Man, we're such a good team, you know?" Mr. Tail felt a vaij pop then as he narrowed his eyes in agitation. "You didn't even do anything!" "Yes, I did! You just weren't looking-" "Oh you little-" The rest of the walk was filled with the two bickering with a teary-eyed and trembling you stuck in the middle.

At least you gained an unlikely friend who was just like you... kind of-

》MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

Megumi already knew and heard about you long before you entered the battle zone. Gojo had been the one who told him of you, asking him to keep an eye out in case you couldn't handle it anymore due to your rather anxious nature. But what he didn't except was how young you actually were. Raising a brow and crossing his arms, he looked at your shaky form in front of him, which was clearly doing everything it could to not look him in the eyes.

"So... You're the backup?" "Uhm... yes...?" "Hm." Despite knowing that the elders forced you to come here, he still didn't feel too confident or good about this. Sending a child onto a suicide mission was on brand for them, however, so he supposed that being very surprised would be wrong too. It was unfortunately expected.

"What the hell are you looking at them like that for?" The curse that you introduced as Mr. Tail hissed out harshly, obviously very unamused by the entire situation himself. Shrugging, Megumi simply shoved his hands into his pockets before turning to enter the building your mission would take place in. "Nothing. I just don't think they should join, if they're scared." He said, referencing the tears that were about to spill from your eyes, including the clear trembling of your body in fear. You absolutely didn't want to be here. Not that he could blame you.

"But... I have to. Otherwise, the elders will..." You trailed off, head hanging low as you found yourself unable to finish that grimm sentence. Megumi paused in his step, head turning slightly to look back at your defeated form. You were strong, far stronger than most were at your age. And your predicament reminded him of a certain friend of his.

Sighing, he scratched his head in speaking up again and continuing on his way. "Fine. Come with me, but stay close and only use your cursed technique when I tell you to." You looked up in surprise and followed after him quickly, feeling somewhat grateful despite the terror that he gave you and Mr. Tail a chance after all.

[bebsibby]

The Top Surgery Log

Hello! I got top surgery yesterday! I want to catalogue my experience so I can remember it and provide some insight for people who want it but haven't gotten it yet. I will continue to update this post as my healing goes on. Everything under the read more!

Leading Up

My insurance is with Kaiser which has been an AWESOME experience so far. They do require a therapist letter, so no informed consent, but the process was very simple and there were a lot of people dedicated to getting me what I needed.

I had about 3 therapist meetings where she just asked me questions about my experience with gender and how my transition has gone so far, my support network, can I afford it, etc. Then she wrote my letter, sent it off to the surgical team, and I was approved within a few days!

After that I had my very first consult with the surgeon. He took pictures, did a breast exam, asked about general health and family health history, then gave me a little presentation of the process. It had post up photos of prior patients, a lot of explanations of the types of surgeries available that he does, and a lot of good information in general. He answered a lot of my questions and made me feel fully confident and prepared for the experience.

Also important to note: I told him the surgery I had been wanting ever since I started doing top surgery research was Inverted-T and I was curious of he knew of it/why that WASN'T an option they offered. He explained everything to me and showed me what he expected my results to look like if I DID want to go to a different surgeon outside of Kaiser. Said surgeon does NOT accept insurance, but would work with the insurance side of things to make sure they would reimburse for the expenses. I really appreciate that because it showed me they wanted to do get exactly what I wanted.

Based on all of that, I decided to just opt for Double Incision both to save me time and get a result that was aesthetically more pleasing to me. Loss of nipple sensation is unfortunate, but apparently IT only has the potential to bring a little sensation back, which wasn't worth all the extra hoop jumping for me.

After this consult, my surgeon told me to think about everything then email him a few days later with my decision. I did and then a few days later got my call to schedule. I got to pick my date but not the time of day, as I would later learn that's decided by the hospital and not me. Once my surgery was scheduled, another pre-op appointment was scheduled about a month before the surgery date. That appointment was very short, as it was just signing consent forms and confirming everything I wanted. He also gave me a packet of supplies I needed to get before the surgery.

After that, I'd occasionally receive emails with more pre-op instructions, like when to stop eating and drinking, showering instructions, when to stop certain medication, and how to care for my drains.

The Surgery

The day before surgery I had initially planned to do all of the last minute housework and leave for the surgery the next morning. HOWEVER, when I got my call to tell me the time, it turns I had to be there by 6 AM! The surgery center is over an hour away from me and the bus my wife and I were going to take didn't run that early, so we had to scramble to make other plans. Luckily the friend who was going to drive us back home was cool with us crashing on his floor for the night, so we were able to do the most important things at home then take the bus down the day before.

Once we were all set up for the night, I did the first cleaning routine that I was required to do, set my alarm, then tried to sleep. I didn't get much due to Hard Floor and also excited but that wasn't a biggie because I'd be sleeping again soon LOL.

Next morning I woke up, did my second skin cleansing, and we headed out! I checked in, waited a little in the waiting room, then got called back to start.

Everyone who was working with me was SUPER funny and kind. I got asked more questions, signed another form, took some pre-med tylenol, them stripped to switch into my gown, bonnet, and grippy socks (Got to keep those btw :>) My IV got put in my wrist which REALLY fucking hurt!!!!!! It never stopped aching. After that, the surgeon popped in to check on me and see if I had any questions, then they wheeled me in to the operating room.

I had gotten another premed via IV that was already making me tired, and I remember the last thing being the surgeon saying what to do with my removed tissue once he was done and I was gone!

The surgery itself lasted around four hours, but all I remember is waking up and seeing my wife and friend sitting at the foot of the bed. I said hi to them and that was apparently third time I had said it. I had been up and talking to them for awhile all loopy but also becoming suddenly very serious when talking with the nurses. I've had a few surgeries but I've NEVER been this way after so that was funny. The nurse had also been giving ME all of the postop discharge info and I don't remember it so thats unfortunate! I only remember her talking about the drains. I had to read it all again when I got home but it was all good.

Once I was awake enough, they wheel-chaired me down to my friends car, packed us all up and we headed back home. I napped about half the time but still kept my eyes closed when i was awake and talking bc my vision was still FUCKED and it was so bright out. We got home, I was lead inside, and that was that pretty much! I napped several more times, nibbled on some roast beef, emptied my drains (which made me very woozy, mostly due to the standing) and went to bed!

After Surgery

Day one! I woke up a few times in the night mainly to go to the bathroom, but slept REAL deep otherwise. It rained all night which was awesome. I woke up feeling very achy but not painful except for my throat. Those ET tubes are NOT easy on your body. Took all my meds, got out of bed eventually, and had cup ramen for breakfast. Now I'm just sitting on the couch with all my computer stuff moved from my desk to where I'm sitting. I got a long hdmi cable so I can just watch stuff on the big TV so I'm pretty set up!

My wife just brought me some cookies and overall I'm just feeling really good. Not really excited or emotional about it. Its just a very warm contented feeling.

I don't know what my chest looks like yet since my post-op binder got put on while i was still out, but everything gets removed next week! I'll probably update again after that appointment.

Feel free to ask specific questions! I'll be resting most of the time so I'll just be around!

[darkangel1791]

Random Thoughts on The Falcon and The Winter Soldier:

Dr. Raynor is a terrible therapist, part two.

Again, let me say that I am aware that everything said is for comedic and/or dramatic purposes. And I do understand that the constraints of an hour episode of a series makes it necessary to suspend disbelief at times. The opinion I'm expressing is based on the reality of the show as presented.

In the second session that we see, the first thing she does is insist that Sam come to the session with Bucky. Leaving aside the fact that she has no authority over Sam, and that was way out of line, a therapist should never invite a third person into a one on one therapy session without first discussing it with the client. In a therapy session, a client is very vulnerable and sensitive questions will be asked. It should be a place of safety. Demanding that a third person be there without any warning, and without the client's consent is completely shattering that safe place, as well as an incredible breach of doctor-patient confidentiality.

Her excuse for this is that it is her job to make sure "you're okay". She seems to be addressing Sam which is a complete lie on her part, but even if she is addressing both of them, it is still not her place to suddenly make this relationship a priority in Bucky's therapy. If this is the last therapy session she will have with Bucky, then even moreso it should be solely focused on him.

She takes two people that she has never counseled together before, one of whom she met for the first time minutes ago, and immediately starts trying to work on the relationship. She doesn't even know what their relationship is.

Not quite using the Miracle question correctly. You identify the problem first and then say if you woke up tomorrow and that problem was solved, how would your world be different?

Straight to the soul-gazing exercise? Not even funny, Doc. The soul-gazing exercise is a process done in a quiet, relaxed, atmosphere. I'll just say, in no way would a police conference room in Baltimore ever be a place to do the soul-gazing exercise, and not even elaborate.

Then, Bucky has a significant, emotional, moment. He actually verbally expresses a deeply held fear of his. He even becomes emotional, you can hear it in his voice. Dr. Raynor does NOT acknowledge this in any way. And she allows Sam to brush it off as unimportant as well. Terrible, TERRIBLE, therapeutic response! Her patient actually verbalizes a real fear, experiences a real emotion, allows his inner self out for once, and the response is, NOTHING. No one cares, not even his therapist.

Both of my posts are very long, and thank you so much if you read through them both. But I have to tell you, I could have gone through line by line and pointed out how this therapy was just a train wreck!

Again, no shade to the writers, the point of these episodes was not to portray healthy therapy. But I have seen some reactions on YouTube where people were saying that they loved this therapist. "She didn't take Bucky's bullshit" "She ordered Sam in there like a boss!" etc. And, maybe because therapy is something near and dear to my heart, I want to express my opinion about it, because I don't want anyone to be having this kind of therapy experience and thinking it is a good thing.

Dr. Raynor is a terrible therapist pt.1

[osokasstuff]

i want to talk about the phrase "cis people are getting gender-affirming care" and underlying assumptions and nuances. and idk how to structure my thoughts on this topic, so i'll just drop some takes and run away.

1) usually when people talk about cis people getting gender-affirming care (and how it's encouraged and not barred), they actually mean intersex people undergoing procedures that make their bodies fit better in perisex expectations of their assigned sex and gender.

1.1) although some intersex people may wish these care, a lot of intersex people are actually forced to undergo it, directly or indirectly when intersex people aren't told about their intersex status and instead are told that they have a disorder and need to undergo these treatment. without actually asking, without proper explanations, without alternatives and anything. also, this so-called "care" may be performed on infants and very young children (igm surgeries, forced hrt) who can't consent at all. and these types of intervention shouldn't be called gender-affirming care for cis people. because gender-affirming care is procedures that bring the body into the line with the person's wishes in a gender-associated sense. and "corrective" procedures performed on intersex people without their consent (consent under pressure also counts as without consent) are the opposite of it. it's conversion therapy. and we should stop mistake conversion therapy for gender-affirming care.

1.2) some people will be surprised, but sometimes intersex people get their assigned sex and gender changed and forced on other types of treatment, if society decides that will be easier. for example, someone may be assigned female, but later in life experience masculinization/more male-associated traits may be revealed, and some of these people will be reassigned male and forced on testosterone hrt/surgeries. this "care" is not gender-affirming, too. it has nothing to do with transition because transition is a consensual act, and this is violence. and if these intersex people want to get gender-affirming care to bring their body back to the first assigned gender? they get denied. they have to fight for it and face transphobia and intersexism. and sometimes they don't get it at all.

1.3) "okay but what about the very specific case when adult intersex person is cis and wishes to get gender-affirming procedures that align with their assigned sex and gender?" it's not easy for them, too. they may be denied for absurd reasons (based on intersexism). a lot of doctors wouldn't listen after "i'm intersex" and refuse to treat the patient. and if any doctor agrees, they may still be unsafe. because doctors may try to force more procedures, or be intersexist, or be incompetent in treating intersex patients, or be in general incompetent. remember how a lot of doctors know zero shit about hrt and gender-affirming surgeries? all of them still know zero shit about it when the patient is cis. and especially know zero shit when the patient is intersex because intersex bodies may work differently, may respond on hormones differently, may look differently, etc tons of medical nuances. i don't know much about this experience because i'm not cis intersex, but i assume there is way more shit.

1.4) some intersex people are cis / identifies with their assigned gender (yes, these experiences need to be separated because some intersex people don't consider themselves cis while identifies with their assigned gender) and still need gender-affirming procedures that aren't typical for their gender (for example, testosterone hrt for an intersex woman). because of health reasons, because of gender reasons, because of any reason. and they have to fight tooth and nails to get it. they get denied in gender clinics, get denied by doctors, get all possible transphobic and intersexist shit. even trans-friendly spaces are not immune to treating intersex people horrible. so it's not easy at all.

2) "okay we understood that intersexism sucks. but what about perisex cis people?" yes, there are cis perisex people who get gender-affirming care. but it doesn't look like it seems.

2.1) there actually are cis perisex people who get gender-affirming care that does not align with their assigned sex and gender! some examples: gender-nonconforming cis people who are cis but still need gender-affirming procedures; cis nonbinary people who need gender-affirming care. and it's not easy for them, too, because they have to face the same transphobia (idk if it may be considered intersexism, and i'm going to write another essay about how intersexism and transphobia are inseparable from each other, so stay with me if you wanna read it /no pressure).

2.3) "okay okay okay fuck you with your untypical cases, but what about cis perisex people who get gender-affirming care that aligns with their gender? can we bitch about them and how their life is easy?" (/joke. sorry for my poor sense of humor). there are some nuances too. i don't have these experiences and have heard not so much about these cases, so take my words with the grain of salt, but let's go.

2.4) another specific case: detrans people. people who have undergone some medical procedures but realized they're cis and need to reverse it. they don't get it easy. detransition is heavily stigmatized both in the general society and queer circles. detrans people have to navigate through transphobic systems and face transphobia, and also get their specific sort of discrimination because they detransition. i don't know much about specific problems, but i'm sure it's not easy.

2.5) and, finally, about cis perisex people who never transitioned and still need gender-affirming procedures that align with expectations from their gender. let's remember how society treats cis women who underwent breast augmentation. not very politely, yes? being a perisex cis person and having "not good enough" sex traits is a way of failing to perform the gender role. so these people get all the shit associated with not performing your gender role properly. even if it's "not their fault" (like they got some organs removed because of cancer), society doesn't give a fuck. it's still a "failure," and there will be the punishment. remember all the jokes about small dicks, not having balls, having small breast, etc etc etc? it's intersexism, yes, but it hurts cis perisex people, too. and it doesn't stop hurt cis perisex people who decide to change it. there's a genre of jokes about implants and whatever. it's still a "failure," even if people "try to make up for it."

3) and the part about "bad doctors know zero shit about gender-affirming procedures" applies to every category.

4) in conclusion, i think there's no demographic that gets gender-affirming care easily. because transphobia, intersexism, and sexism, the causes of barriers to gender-affirming care, don't suddenly finish if you have a correct identity. if someone doesn't have rights, no one has rights. that's why i think we should stop bitch about how other demographic is unaffected by some shit and gets everything easily and continue to find together for bodily autonomy and gender-related rights to everyone.

[sleep-nurse]

”the day someone asks for lore of her it’s all over” I AM ASKING FOR HER LORE

OH BOY GULP GET READY be weary it's a bit twisted i don't know what tw to put but definitely for death mentions(also this is gonna be a brief description or else it'll be so long)

basically miu himawari was once a normal living person with complications that mostly involved her digestion track (which is based off me irlCOUGH COUGHG no wonder why she's my sona) and the thing that made it harder for her to live was her mother dying when she was really young (like 2 years old so she doesn't really remember that anyways) who was the one mostly taking care of her and her illnesses. himawari gets sick really easily due to the low care by her father, miu akabara, who is a scientist and is basically 24/7 working HKJSHFKHDKJGHJKEHG

so yeah she lives up to 16 until she dies hospitalised because stuff got worse. but the hospital akabara works in works in a project that involves transferring human memories and personality and basically consciousness in a robot body (we aren't gonna talk about the fucked up things behind that) so himawari was the first ever success on their project. well. ''success'' because her engine persists various issues that cause her to run into Anomalies that may or may not be risky for someone else's life. also her primary energy source is real blood. totally donated from consenting patients

himawari's passion was always medical related stuff and she wanted to be a nurse ever since she was really young, so their priority for himawari's coding is try to get her to work as a nurse for the same hospital but we are also not going to talk about how wrong it goes. oh and also because she's Sleepy As Fuck she literally just sleeps while doing activities. and also himawari's conscious actively knows it's in a robot body but most of her activity is programmed by her engine so she still sometimes struggles to even eat with a fork 😭😭 BUT YEAG. THERE'S MORE I JUST DON'T WANNA DUMP EVERYTHING HERE i'm so sorry if it's bad but you asked for it

[georgewashingtonsnudes]

~Tainted Love~ Dio Brando

a/n: this has been in my drafts collecting dust for some time now; so I thought I’d share. I’ve never posted a fic before so please be patient w/ me and let me know how I can improve. It’s quite drawn out so I’m gonna be splitting it up (how many parts TBD), but hot vampire man is an asshole, so I’m just going for realism. Somewhat of a reader insert but I hate using y/n or ___. Lmk if anyone wants more of this lol.

WC: 4,645

Likes, comments, and reblogs are welcome and much appreciated. Again, let me know how I can improve from here. <3

(If you care to read into the specs of the intended stand it’s at the very end. If not, the brief description in the story should do)

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE!

CW: 18+ NSFW warning minors/ageless accounts DNI, sort of a song fic, not proof read, GN reader/Gender not specified (they/them/their pronouns used), fem reader (sorta?), reader is a stand user, prior to stardust crusaders, begging, Lots of teasing, edging if you squint, no direct smut at first but very heavy nsfw (they hold hands lol), blood play, punishment, heavy biting, (scratching sorta), acts of violence/mention of d34d bodi3s, pain/endurance play, maybe a little bit of Stockholm syndrome/yandre (idk if it qualifies but just to be safe), inappropriate use of stands, mention of mental institution?, use of pet names (dear one, my lord, master, maybe others), clothes ripping, lmk if I missed any ahhhhh.

Please don’t do these things in real life and if you do I beg you be wise, safe, and consenting <3

—————————————————————————

Darkness engulfed them; suffocating and cold. Incense clouding around, filling the room with a misleading warmth, the scent comforting and familiar. Chills ran up their spine as their feet touched down onto the marble floor, reminding them of the ever-consuming chill.

The hair on their arms stood on end as they suddenly felt a stifling aura emanating from behind. A fast, hushed chuckle reverberated in their ears, making them turn quickly to search the room for intrusion. But they found nothing, aside from the empty room they’d been in before.

Living with DIO Brando was nothing short of disquieting. The constant sensation of his fixed gaze, whether in sight or not, kept them on edge. DIO had discovered them in a ward for violent patients suffering delusions after he heard tell of someone there who had a strange effect on their environment and people around them.

Doctors could not understand why the patient had hallucinations of a humanoid figure following them whenever their emotions became heightened. It loomed behind them in a possessive, almost protective way, only visible to their eyes. They were admitted based on severe hallucinations and what hospital staff described as “fits of terrifying violence,” but it was much more indescribable than that.

Buildings shook, windows shattered, and explosive-like blasts would destroy walls and floors. Strangest though, the feelings others experienced around them seemed to be elevated by the strange vibrations and frequencies that emanated from their body. Happiness turned to madness, sadness to utter despair, and anger to pure, unadulterated rage. Every occurrence further drove fear into anyone they encountered, so for the protection of others, they were placed in a comatose state.

When DIO heard of such a being, it was immediately apparent they were a stand user. A stand user whom he was determined to have under his leadership before they dared to fight against him. The power they held was erratic and unpredictable, but that made it something to be feared. If such an ability was attainable and trainable, it could prove invaluable to him. An ability so strong, yet uncontrolled by its user—for now—he thought.

—————————————————————————

Their body filled with a dull ache—a deep heaviness sat in their chest as their mind was brought out of its fog. Had their eyes been closed for weeks? Months? Forcing them open, akin to willing paralyzed legs to run—bright fluorescent lights assaulted their eyes as their sight began to return. The shape of a cramped room forming in front of them.

Wall-to-wall white padding; an unframed mattress and medical equipment are its only excuses for furniture. Slowly, splotches of deep crimson came into view, decorating the walls and floor. It was an added ornament to the motionless figures scattered along the floor, lying lifeless and mutilated. Dead—they’re all dead.

Unable to move, they searched frantically for any trace of the living. Machines and tools started to shake around them as their thoughts became more frantic. Until—they saw something they wouldn’t soon forget. Finally coming into blurred view, a lone figure standing amongst the carnage, splattered with dark vermillion. Beaming like a heavenly entity, he drew closer to the mattress where they lay, their arms, chest, and legs bound by bed straps.

Standing at the edge of the bed, their binds suddenly came undone, making time itself seem unreal. In the blink of an eye, the stranger disappeared from the foot of the bed to reappear again at their side. They turned their head to meet the man, the fog finally clearing from their sight, and what stood before them was something of dreams—or perhaps a nightmare. Cautiously, he leaned forward and spoke softly.

“Do not be afraid,” as if quoting angels from scripture. “I’m not here to harm you; I only wish to ask you a question.”

Slowly, and shakily, they rose to sit upright, hoping to look closer at this mysterious creature. They could feel the room resume its soft quaking as his full form became apparent. He was overwhelmingly tall, towering over them even while bending down, built large and strapping. His body was carved like a Roman statue, shining porcelain that put David to shame. The words he spoke were like silk, flowing off of his tongue as naturally as cerulean waves kissing the seashore.

Suddenly, they felt weightless, like gravity ceased to exist. Strong arms engulfed them from behind, arms that didn’t belong to the man, lifting them above the mattress. He reached to softly grab them from the arms that held them up and pulled them to his broad chest. Bringing them closer to his hulking form, they gazed into his eyes, breath catching in their throat.

Their body hung featherweight in his gentle grip, enticing them to draw closer to his cold skin. His voice tickled their ears; the warm contrast to his icy touch sent shivers running down their spine. They let their held breath finally escape, still rendered speechless by the scene in front of them. It seemed to all melt into nothing when he brought his face close to whisper in their ear.

“I would be delighted if you would leave this wretched place with me so that we might become friends,” his deep voice enticing and rich. “I’ve heard rumors you have special gifts that could help in my never-ending struggle for peace. You see, I’m in pain and require your assistance to make my life’s goal a reality."

Bringing the back of his hand to stroke their reddening cheek, he spoke tenderly, "I beg of you, end my suffering."

Their heart stopped; the stranger's voice was so welcoming and kind, yet a disquieting feeling they knew all too well crept into their chest. The distrust in others after constant imprisonment, discrimination, hate, and abuse was inescapable. As the stranger pulled away to look at their face again, their mind began to spin. They wondered how he wasn’t affected by their presence like others—could he really be that strong?

“The choice is yours.”

Still—the world stood still. His words slipped through the cracks of the walls they had built, like water through cracks of a dam; it flooded their senses with joy. Gracefully, they were placed on shaky feet, a large hand supporting them from around their waist. Nearly forgetting how to speak, they managed,

“Who—“

Their voice was painful and hoarse, the time spent asleep weakening their vocal cords. The man’s large finger came to press against their parted lips.

“There’s no use in hurting yourself; you need only nod or shake your head. I’m but a simple man with simple wishes, none of which are to force your hand. So think deeply; don’t decide in haste, dear one."

The pet name was so simply bestowed upon them, yet it remained, ringing in their ears whenever he called. They tried to recall that day—the beautiful man, the stark cold of his hands, the honey in his voice—but it was caught in a fog, as if fading like a dream upon waking.

—————————————————————————

“Dear one—“

The endearment brought them back to the darkness, the scent of frankincense and musk replacing the sterile antiseptic and brassy red; a welcome difference. Goosebumps ran over their skin as a cold breeze swept over their back, a lurking aura standing dangerously close behind them. The heat in their chest slowly beginning to rise. Frigid hands slipped around their waist, brushing under the hem of their shirt, grazing their delicate skin.

“Your body is trembling, yet the room is still. It seems you’ve gained much more control.”

His praise mixed with the feeling of his fingers sliding over the contours of their figure made the heat in their chest begin to spread. DIO’s hand danced against their skin, every inch of his touch lingering like a silent plea, an unspoken and burning need. The deep sound that echoed through their ears pulled the memory of his delicate words from that faraway moment.

“My Lord has taught me how; I would not have control without you. Your overwhelming power makes me feel weak in comparison, yet strong in your presence.”

They were left alone, a dark chortle bouncing off the walls of the marble-plated room, his presence lost in the vast expanse of the burgundy boudoir. Fragrant smoke was all that held them as, as quickly as he had vanished, his large stature stood mere inches before them.

“And where do you suppose you would be had it not been for such a power?” Knowing the answer—he wished to be humored—a king to be entertained.

“Perhaps I’d be rotting along with those other corpses, my body serving no greater purpose than for maggot’s food.” The quick response fueling his exalted ego, reminding him of his heroic rhetoric. “Eating flies on the floor; collecting dust like a mantle ornament.”

As their grim list of examples became more graphic, a devilish smirk grew across his face, his imagination playing with their words. Whether it made him feel like an omnipotent god or a messiah mattered very little. Just a slight glint of his smile was enough to make warmth seep into their stomach.

“You would make a splendid centerpiece on any fireplace mantle, dear one.” The sobriquet was like soft worship as it fell upon their ears. “Or maybe you could have use as a centerpiece on a table; it would surely make for worthy dinner entertainment.”

Gone. His form vanishing as they heard a heavy sigh from behind. One large hand slipped around the front of their neck, the other haphazardly moving along the edges and grooves of their side.

“Although—that would be terribly boring.” His hand nudging their head to rest against his chest, melting into his frosty skin. “You’d be nothing but something handsome to look at. What a shame.” His hand fell upon their hip and held a firm yet loving grip.

“Yet, handsome nonetheless, dear one.”

They were on fire, their imagination starting to run wild as he pressed his body closer to theirs. DIO’s arms engulfing them in an inescapable hold, face burrowing in the crevice of their neck. A small sigh fell from them as his lips ever so lightly grazed a tender place on their collar, not enough to be called a kiss, but to tickle their skin. Their heart began beating faster as his attention shifted to the other side of their neck, only providing delicate brushes. Until his lips met their neck in a sloppy manner before sinking his fangs in, just enough to draw blood.

Burning pain ran through them, blending into sheer ecstasy as they felt his lips connect with the wound. They moaned as he began to suck at the blots of crimson seeping from his intrusion. Licking at whatever remained, he began to plant firm kisses on their neck and collar. Leaving behind splotches of red, as if wearing ruby lipstick for a romantic date. He bit and sucked love marks wherever he could reach.

It felt like their clothes were suffocating, restricting tightly under the steam their body gave off. DIO began to fiddle again with their shirt before time broke once more, along with their blouse. Gravity pulled shreds of fabric to the floor as he stood in front of them again. Taking in his bare form, only covered by unforgivingly tight pants restraining an equally unforgiving tool, heat exploded in their stomach.

He stared devilishly at their exposed chest, savoring his time stripping them bare. Watching as they became bashful, painted in a sinful blush, was a sickly sweet pleasure of his. The more they recoiled in shyness, the more he exaggerated his ministrations, turning them into a whining mess. Breaking down their cool exterior became his favorite pastime.

All the while, they tried to keep their composure, failing miserably as his hands moved to explore their body further. His predatory stare wrecked their nerves, making them feel like prey waiting to be pounced upon. The heat inside them followed his hands tracing along their flushed skin, eventually grazing along their clothed center for a fleeting second. It was so easy for their self-control to be broken down, and they didn’t seem to have much of a problem with that.

They wanted more—more—more—of him, his touch, his kiss, his body, his love. Rebelliously moving their hands towards his chest, they were stopped before making it far. One strong hand held both of their wrists in place behind their back, pulling them inches from his face.

“You know better than that, dear one. You know whom this is for.” A sigh of feigned disappointment left his lips, his voice rendering them speechless.

“Say it.” He bit gruffly, pulling away from their ear.

“You, Master DIO.” They answered quickly, knowing their actions and responses would determine the importance of their time compared to his.

“And whose pleasure is this for? Your own?” With his free hand he grabbed their chin, bringing them closer to inspect their reaction. “How selfish.”

They roughly shook their head, wishing to avoid being left unsatisfied. His face looked riddled with doubt, an expression usually reserved for a disobedient child saying they would behave better in the future.

“Yours, Lord DIO, I promise.” They spat out quickly, anxiously awaiting his next move.

Seconds felt like minutes as he gazed down at their face, looking as if making an executive decision. Lust and mischief danced in his eyes when they quickly flashed with a glint of malice, coming to a conclusion.

“Hmm—yes, I’m aware of that. Though, it appears you need to be reminded.” Holding them painfully tight, he pulled them close. “Don’t touch me, please—not without my express permission. How foolish can you be to have forgotten?”

“I’m sorry, Master DIO, I let my passion cloud my memory.” They were becoming frantic; the thought of him leaving them with warmth still swirling under their skin drove them to near madness. “I promise, I only want to please you. I promise, Lord DIO.”

Suddenly, the hand that held a bruising grip on their chin fled to silence them with a finger to their lips. Dark, amber eyes met theirs as he nearly recited his words from that day. “There’s no use in harming yourself, dear one.” Their heart skipped; trembling legs halted as his hand began to brush against their face, replacing his painful grip with sincere touches.

Silence.

A guttural groan was pulled from them as they were left alone in the darkness to bask in their desire, neck bleeding, half bare, and utterly exposed.

“How pitiful; I’ve barely touched you.” His voice called from an undisclosed location. Gone from sight, he let out a deep baritone laugh, booming like a roar through the silent boudoir.

Their heart pounded in their ears as the room went silent once again, making them whine out in disappointment. As quickly as they had left, cold fingertips resumed their search for purchase along their naked torso, goosebumps riddling their skin as they stopped at the hem of their pants. Standing behind them, DIO’s hands stood painfully still as he leaned into the crook of their neck.

“What a dreadfully paltry thing you are. I wonder how much strength it would take for me to snap your feeble body in two." Almost as if speaking to himself, he posed the question with no intention of waiting for an answer.

Their body lurched back, slamming roughly into his chest as he held their hips with a brutal clasp. A quick yelp escaped their lips before he moved to cover their entire mouth, consequently covering most of their face, with his enormous hand. Try as he might to hold it back, the moan that fell from his lips was one of pure filth as he firmly held them. His height itself was overwhelming, let alone his inhuman strength, but what made their legs begin to shake again was the size they felt growing between them. Pushing its shape firmly into their back, it took what little self-control they had left not to bravely knit their fingers through the golden hair tickling their neck.

Whatever sinful noises they made were negligible by them but memorized by DIO. He wished to make them come undone in every way possible before letting them come close to sweet release. Teasing wasn’t simply a game to him; it had surpassed a hobby even; it was a particular torture method that only DIO had mastery over. Torture that never seemed to end; always under his complete control. Their noises cueing him to every single point he could use, the louder the sound, the more advantageous the action.

Avoiding patterns—never remaining predictable, he kept a brief mental catalog of what he’d done before. Never repeating, but sampling from their previous excursions to get the right kick out of finally cutting them loose. He craved the sounds of ecstasy that poured from their lips every time they were permitted to fall into their own pleasure. Never letting his exterior crack, his greatest pleasure was to see theirs shatter.

Holding firmly on the waist of their pants, he took his time breathing in their seductive scent, pheromones playing in his senses. Their patience was wearing thin, but it made DIO all the more persistent in waiting. Trying not to squirm under him, they pressed further into his body, enticing a small scoff at the desperate action. Mind spinning, their facade began to fade as the surrounding furniture began to lowly rumble against the marble floor. Large chandelier quaking as if the earth began to shake.

“The longer you take to compose yourself, the longer you’ll have to wait, dear one.” The nickname returning to his lips in a curious gesture of consolation. His words sounded sweet, but the sick tone in his voice alluded to such dark intentions that they couldn’t anticipate.

“Yes, my Lord.” Their eyes screwed shut as they tried to still their heart.

It was all for naught when he began to brush his lips against their bruised and bloodied neck. Never stopping, simply hinting painfully slow. Anticipating when his soft lips would press onto their flushed skin, a profane gasp left them as they danced against the bleeding surface. The searing pain burning into pleasant tingles made their head spin as he began to move down their collar.

Sickly sweet sounds surrounded them, heaving and panting like depraved animals. Hands gripped with white knuckles were held in place by their navel by sheer force of will, a choice that didn’t go unnoticed to him. Gradually, his movements slowed and were brought to a halt when he plunged his teeth into their shoulder, just above the collar. Sinking them in further, he waited for their reaction. A high-pitched gasp was purged from deep in their lungs as they fought their urge to hold him tightly.

Their hands, still clasped together, were brought up to their face with flaring fingers in their best effort to remain obedient. Trembling hands quickly found themselves, fingers interlocked, behind their head, giving him full access to their chest. Passionately cleaning up the new blood with his tongue, their pain seemed to never be there to begin with. Dropping their arms with a pleasured moan, DIO continued to lap at their seeping wounds until he was satisfied with their performance. Finally, he released their neck from his attack to admire the carnage he’d dealt.

Heart palpitating; their breath was unsteady and broken. Physically and mentally becoming a mess under his touch, they whined out when he’d vanished again. A torturous game of patience—one they knew wouldn’t be over soon.

“You’ll grow stronger the more you undergo,” seduction seeping through his voice, carrying itself through the incense.

Glacial fingers found themselves caressing their hips, one finding purchase, the other continuing to wander aimlessly—at least they thought. DIO was meticulous, never letting an advantage go to waste, always remaining two steps ahead. He had a plan from the start, and divergence from it would surely be justification for a prolonged exercise. Sure enough, rough fingers began to retreat upwards, nothing to protect their bare chest from his icy hands.

Obedience held at the forefront of their mind—composer—endurance; they allowed their arms to hang by their side. All that was required was to remain patient and calm; thus, reward would follow in the simplest of circumstances. DIO was anything but simplistic, though. His hands traversing their stomach reached towards their chest, littering their skin in goosebumps and hardening their nipples.

Frigid fingers danced against their searing skin, bringing chills along in their wake. Stifling a reaction, they let out a sharp breath when they felt his enormous body press against their back. Their legs were on the verge of folding, nails pressing firm crescents into their palms, but they held steadfast in their conviction to satisfy their Lord’s desires.

“You have learned a considerable amount and gained much strength,” hands resting just below their sternum, “but I wonder if you may be ready for a new challenge.”

The proposal sparked a flurry of excitement within them, promptly accompanied by a feeling of something more sinister at play under the surface. Transparently, they didn’t seem to mind all the same. DIO took note of their resolve, wanting to test how much further it could stretch.

“How do you suppose you would fare during a test of endurance?” His query posed more towards himself—his insatiable curiosity.

Tantalizingly close, he halted all movement, tilting his face into the crook of their neck.

“Consider this: you’re aware that pain and pleasure can be one and the same, if so desired.” Hovering his face to just barely brush against their sensitive skin. “Conversely, one’s desire to turn suffering to delight counts for naught if their endurance is unpracticed. Those too weak to endure such suffering will simply succumb to pointless emotion.”

Slightly grazing along his previous markings sent an involuntary shiver throughout their body, shuddering against him. He tested, licking the wounds once again, the stinging sending chills down their spine at each lap. Biting back any sound, they didn’t notice the pain in their mouth until the unforgiving taste of copper became apparent. A small gash in their plump lip seeped a line of blood, sliding down their quivering chin.

DIO’s left hand glided across their sternum, landing open-palmed in the center, his right exiting their shirt to grab their jaw, gently tilting it upwards to gaze upon his heavenly face. Quickly diving in to lap up the stream that continued to travel after it surfaced.

“Well,” leaning back to stare into their glassy eyes, “can you bare it—my dearest one?”

Words were lost to them; all of their focus centered around undergoing his so-called test to his liking.

Dearest one.

“I would endure hellfire, crying my lord's praises amongst a wailing chorus of tortured souls.” Heart threatening to burst from their chest, they nearly screamed, “My master’s face would guide my mind to peace in the depths of Dante’s inferno; his voice a lullaby in a cacophony of pain.”

My dearest one.

“And whom would that be?” Feigning innocence, his hand moved behind their neck.

“You, of course, my Lord DIO.” Their lack of hesitation fed his desire to possess them. “I will pass any test you would have me take with great pleasure, DIO.”

Searing pain burned through their neck as he broke the skin effortlessly, bringing a sharp breath from their throat. Their mistake became glaringly obvious far too late.

“Hmm, how strange.” He lifted them from the ground almost how a child would carelessly jostle a toy. “I must have misheard you.” Looking up, as if to inspect them.

“Lord DIO—master—almighty DIO—“ They struggled; their prattling correction fell upon deaf ears as he turned them completely to face him. His large hand only allowing enough air passage to grovel, not to breathe.

“Lord?“ eyes dark, unrelenting “Master?” Inches from the ground, “Almighty?” He let out a breathy chuckle. Stars began to glide across their vision as gravity drew them to the ground.

“No.”

Silence.

Falling to their hands and knees on the cold floor, their heartbeat the only sound as they sat alone, once again, anticipating his return. Before they could bring themself to stand, his powerful aura returned, overcoming their half-naked frame. His form kneeled behind them, radiating danger and lust as he leaned over their back. One hand gripped their chin, the other rested on their stomach, tucking his head in the crook of their neck to speak directly in their ear.

“What, pray tell, did you call me?”

Time dragged, hovering in the air, as if the world held its breath. Their heartbeat echoed in their ears while they searched for a saving answer. Knowing only one to be correct, they submitted to their fate. Voice hesitant and broken, they spoke—

“DIO.”

Arms tightening to draw their bodies closer, he shifted his weight backward on his knees to push them flush against his sturdy body. The cold of his skin matched the frigid marble as he tilted their head back to rest on his shoulder. His brawny frame enveloping them like the final puzzle piece slotting seamlessly into its place, the contours of their bodies aligning with quiet certainty. Calves straddling his waist, they hovered above his lap, held up against his chest with a simply placed hand.

“How’s that again, dear one?” Sugary words laced with venom poured into their ears, the need for repetition impertinent. “Such a quiet little church mouse—I can’t seem to hear you.”

Every movement methodical and precise; DIO’s touch was misleading, his embrace almost delicate. All action opposed reason; his disposition unnervingly gentle despite their obvious trespass.

“DIO.” They repeated louder, throat searing inside and out despite their hunt for air beginning to settle. Dread, ever-consuming, overtook them as they frantically tried to avoid retribution.

"Please, Master DIO, forgive me." They searched desperately for words, "I will do anything you wish, take any test, endure any torture; I submit my will to you fully. Please, I beg your forgiveness, my Lord."

A quiet fell upon the room, the only sound labored panting, their head pounding. His icy digits danced across their neck, teasing their collarbone as he basked in the feeling of their body in his embrace. Anxiety wrecked their nerves as they awaited their inevitable reprisal, restitution that never came.

"My, how defiant you can be," fingertips lightly brushing against the open wounds on their neck. "But how delicious you always are—it seems I’ve become insatiable; I can hardly stop myself." Gingerly, he collected a stray trail of blood running down their sternum.

Drawing a line up their chest back to their broken skin, he brought his hand back, satisfied with the amount. Bringing the crimson digit to slip between their parted jaws, they instinctively closed their lips to surround the bitter taste.

"Sweet wine, dear one," retreating from their mouth with a sickly pop, he brought it back to play with the tender skin he had already torn. "Shall I finally take my glass?" His intention finally clear as he pressed his index into the crevice of their shoulder, blood beginning to pour down their body, staining what little clothes remained.

His head tilted forward to hover above the fresh puncture, admiring how the traveling scarlet complemented the color of their soft skin. Finally satiating his need, he leaned in to suck at their gashed collar, letting out a deep moan muffled into their skin. One arm wrapped around their waist; the other splayed across their shoulders, he desperately tried to control his wanton hands. Remaining in a bruising grip, he finally freed their neck with a delighted sigh, resisting the temptation to finish his meal quickly.

"My cup runneth over," he cooed into their ear, they became lightheaded as a sinful groan escaped from their throat.

—————————————————————————

Stand Name: Soft Cell

Stats:

Power: B

Speed: C

Range: B

Durability: C

Precision: B

Potential: A

Overall: B

Appearance:

A multicolored humanoid figure with an unsettling eeriness about it. Its body is metallic and features cracks running along its surface, glowing faintly with an iridescent, pulsating light, as if barely holding itself together. There are circular ripple patterns on its chest and limbs, which resemble spreading waves distorted by broken glass.

A jagged glowing slit decorates its face, resembling a tear or scar, and it flickers rhythmically, syncing with the beats of a heartbeat. Around its wrists and ankles are glowing, semi-liquid chains that drip softly onto the ground before fading into mist

Stand Ability: “Pulse of Dissonance"

Soft Cell has the power to manipulate vibrations and frequencies in its surroundings, subtly influencing the physical and emotional states of its targets.

Primary Effects:

1. Emotional manipulation:

It emits low-frequency vibrations that subtly alter the mood of those nearby. The effects depend on the current emotional state of the targets:

- Happiness amplifies into mania, leading to impulsive actions.

- Fear becomes overwhelming panic, causing paralysis or irrational behavior. (Fight or flight)

- Anger turns into blind rage, making opponents reckless and easier to manipulate.

2. Physical manipulation:

The Stand can vibrate objects or opponents at specific frequencies to cause structural damage or disorientation. This includes:

- Shattering brittle materials like glass or stone.

- Inducing vertigo in opponents by disrupting their inner ear balance.

- Weakening armor, weapons, or defenses by making them brittle over time.

3. Harmonic Collapse:

By targeting a specific area or individual, "Soft Cell" can create destructive resonance waves. These waves build up until they cause an explosive release of energy, damaging anything within a 5-meter radius.

Combat Applications:

- Ripple Propagation: The Stand can channel vibrations through surfaces, allowing it to attack enemies from unexpected directions (e.g., through the ground or walls).

- Tuning Shift: The user can adjust the resonance to affect only specific targets, avoiding allies while disorienting opponents.

- Chamber Lock: By maintaining a constant vibration around a target, the Stand can trap them in a feedback loop, immobilizing or severely weakening them.

Weaknesses:

- Precision Over Power: The Stand’s abilities require careful control, making it less effective against fast-moving or chaotic opponents.

- Environmental Dependency: Its resonance effects are less impactful in open spaces with no solid surfaces to propagate vibrations.

- Emotional Resistance: Strong-willed individuals are less affected by emotional resonance, maintaining their composure.

[loveallmymoots]

inspired by @mini-wrants's post. check this horrifying shit i did not know about at all out:

7/9: Death due to childbirth

If the death of the policyholder takes place due to pregnancy complications or childbirth, the insurer would not pay the sum assured to the nominee.

can you make the obvious connections here with the rollback of reproductive rights... including letting women bleed out for fear of legal liability for performing an "abortion"? wonder what all the for-profit insurance (health/life etc) have to say about this... i did just find out i have a $3k er visit bill that my insurance paid and will pay nothing for because i hadn't met my deductible yet. helpfully, they said to find a lower one next time. this was the lowest one that was available on the healthcare marketplace. $5900. almost $350 every month. co-pays. does nothing at all because for the 12 hours i was in the er sitting in the hallway because they didn't bother to get me a bed, they billed me $13k for the privilege of... doing some tests i didn't ask for and couldn't really consent to due to being delirious, being berated for my blood clotting "fast" because the nurse didn't bother to take it to the labs who didn't bother to test it in time so she took 9 vials from me and then left because her shift was over mid-sticking and just left them there on the bed, in the hall, where no one noticed for 45 minutes. (she didn't tell me she was leaving btw so no ofc i didn't ask bc why would i think to?) at least they gave me three bags of iv fluid, though of course my mother was irritated at being there (she was the one who took me - to her hospital, without checking whether it was in network (it was) - because she had ignored me for several days until i crawled on the floor to her bedroom, delirious and vomiting, and begged for help. she had previously refused to take me to a minute clinic because "they're not going to do anything". this was my first er visit ever btw and i've never stayed in a hospital before except for when i was born, but i've been in and out of them (visiting) all my life bc my mother worked there for 38 years. apparently this particular hospital, despite being a non-profit, and despite other hospitals in the same network not doing this, is super aggressive with litigation for past due balances and owns its own collection agency. they even garnished the wages of their own workers, one of whom made $16k a year but was now facing $23k of medical debt to the hospital she worked at. garnished her wages at around 25% because she went to the place she worked at for help. even when i told my mom about this she said she knew about it already. but the board members claim they have no idea. we're a major medical hub, btw.

i really liked this part:

That’s especially problematic for people with high-deductible health insurance plans, defined by the IRS as those with deductibles over $1,350 for an individual and over $2,700 for a family. The number of adults with employer-based, high-deductible health insurance nearly tripled from 2007 through 2017, according to a 2018 report from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Methodist said it is required by insurers to collect copayments and deductibles. That said, the hospital added: “We know some insured patients have high copays and deductibles that place a financial burden on the patient. As a mission-driven organization, we will work with these patients seeking assistance.”

my deductible is $5900. for an individual. nobody ever told me about this. nobody ever told me that was even high, it was the average or even low/lowest among the ones i looked at on the healthcare marketplace, you know, the .gov one. i have no medical problems other than subclinical hypothyroidism (which doesn't even apparently need to be treated) and take lexapro and birth control. and yet!

btw as of this article's publishing (2019) it mentioned we (memphians) had 1/4th of our population living below the poverty line.

hey let's look up the most recent stats on that.

Memphis is currently declining at a rate of -0.89% annually and its population has decreased by -3.48% since the most recent census, which recorded a population of 635,225 in 2020.

The average household income in Memphis is $74,176 with a poverty rate of 23.6%. The median age in Memphis is 34.5 years: 33 years for males, and 36.3 years for females.

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, Memphis is the poorest city in the United States with a median household income of $32,285, or $37,767 for a family. 17% of families and almost 21% of the population lives below the poverty line, including 30% of people under the age of 18.

The greater Memphis metropolitan area, which includes counties in Arkansas and Mississippi, has an estimated population of 1.33 million, which makes Memphis the second-largest metro area in Tennessee after Nashville. This metropolitan statistical area (MSA) includes the Tennessee counties of Fayette, Tipton, and Shelby, along with the Mississippi counties of Tate, Marshall, DeSoto and Tunica, and Crittenden County, Arkansas. The overall metro area has a higher percentage of white residents and a higher per capita income than the city proper.

interesting little note about white residents there, what's the makeup of memphis again?

According to the most recent ACS, the racial composition of Memphis was:

Black or African American: 64.36%

White: 26.46%

Other race: 3.88%

Two or more races: 3.3%

Asian: 1.65%

Native American: 0.31%

Native Hawaiian or Pacific Islander: 0.05%

thanks worldpopulationreview.com! and look at this handy-dandy little guide i found from the university of memphis:

ok sure don't put the title in that's totally not irritating at all tumblr. it's the 2024 memphis poverty fact sheet. now what was this little interesting bit? after it's broken down everything by area, ofc.

including the metro area where most of the white people live, they have 1/3 of the poverty rates of black people in the same area. ok, narrowing it down...

it gets worse. for the county, the rate of poverty for black people is 4x higher than that of whites. and in the city of memphis itself? a solid 3, give or take a 0.04 or so. is it worth mentioning how deeply segregated this city is? we elected our first black mayor of the majority black city...in 1992. he was also corrupt as fuck but interesting how that's not what people mention when they complain about him. he was technically the second black mayor too, because another man served as interim in 1982. our current mayor is black as were the two mayors after herenton, but not from 2016-2024. we're a majority female city too. all of the mayors have been male, only five black since 1982. btw we're the only american city in the top 10 of the most violent cities in the world and consistently number 1 in america. we also apparently have the worst drivers and a lot of other horrible shit but hey, at least we have good water thanks to the natural aquifer. until elon musk decides to use it all to cool his new supercomputer processing shit he's building here, apparently, or until he decides to dump something in it. either one is a very high probability. we're also long overdue for a horrible earthquake.

A high probability of a moderate earthquake in the near future (e.g., a 25-40% probability of a magnitude 6.0 or greater in the next 50 years), and relatively low regional attenuation (in other words, seismic waves do damage over a greater area in this region than for the same magnitude earthquake in the west) lead to significant earthquake hazard in the Memphis metropolitan area. Memphis lies within the New Madrid seismic zone, which is the most seismically active and well-studied region in the Central and Eastern U.S.

50 years, huh? this study was published in 2019, 5 years ago.

btw our rape kit backlog made national news like ten years ago. it's been going on since the 80s. mayor herenton (first elected black mayor up there) deflected all questions about it back in 2009 by saying only rich white people cared about rape and where was the concern for the two little black boys who had drowned in pools?

if you think that sounds cartoonishly implausible, here it is:

He claimed outrage over mis-management at the Memphis Sexual Assault Resource Center is mis-guided among certain members of the council.  He said the outrage is based on pleasing a well-connected demographic rather than true concern.

He contrasted that with what he observed following the drowning deaths of two children in city pools.

"I didn't see any hue and cry and concern about the death of the African American inner-city kids," said the mayor.

do i need to mention the demographics again or is it obvious whom most of the rape victims probably are. now consider how many are actually reported.

worldpopulationreview again here to the rescue!

In the United States, about 43.6% of women and 24.8% of men experienced some form of sexual violence in their lifetime, according to the National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey (NISVS). About 21.3% of women surveyed reported completed or attempted rape at some point in their lives, with 1.2% reporting completed or attempted rape in the 12 months preceding the survey. About 2.6% of men reported experiencing completed or attempted rape at some point in their lives. About 81.3% of female victims and 70.8% of male victims experienced their first completed or attempted rape before the age of 25.

It is important to note that rape is widely unreported, and therefore statistics on rape are not always accurate depictions of the actual number of incidents. However, the #MeToo movement has helped encourage more victims to report their rape and sexual assault incidents. Rape statistics vary from state to state and can be influenced by factors such as demographics, culture, economics, and law enforcement capabilities. Numbers in this article from the FBI's 219 Crime in the U.S. report.

tn's (reported) rape rate is 41.2 ever looked at alaska? theirs is 148.7. arkansas, whom we neighbor so closely that there is literally a west memphis, arkansas (as opposed to memphis, tennessee and yes that is where the west memphis three are from, not here), has the second highest at 77.2 rapes per 100,000 inhabitants. if you look at it versus inhabitants, alaska had 1088 total, arkansas 2331 and tennessee 2813. i guess we'll never know how many were here in memphis because, shocker, that national attention and that cool $1.9 mil we got to investigate it? well not only did they obviously go nowhere but they're actually shutting down our tbi branch, and we already didn't have a forensic science one.

[machinesbleedtoo]

Cluster B personality disorders are manageable, actually

it's always really awkward trying to explain to people how i manage antisocial + narcissistic personality disorder well. people have a really hard time wrapping their head around the concept that We Are People and like any disorder, we can manage it with help. there's this belief that if you're a narcissist or a psychopath you're unworthy of love and a lost cause, which is what made me a monster in the first place. other people kept telling me to just be empathetic, to stop being a dick, etc; i didn't know what that meant, and so i decided other people were the problem because they did nothing but explode at me for what i thought was no reason because no one helped me understand the reason. I was meant to just "know".

i was diagnosed retroactively at 20-fucking-7, when i'd started to work out how to live like a normal person (very patient and loving friends were to blame for that). when i was thirty years old, a psychiatrist said to me: "you obviously have feelings, what do they look like for you? how do they feel?" - i didn't know how to answer him. other people had convinced me i didn't have feelings for most of my life. which is part of why i was a callous bastard - it did not help then (but it does now for the most part) that i'm really good at compartmentalization. it took me a good number of years to know how to answer his question.

i have feelings, yes; we all do. we'd be dead otherwise. they're what drive us to act on things, and the neurotransmitters that work on emotions work on physical functions as well. this assumption about a person is not an excuse to abuse them. it's no excuse to treat them like a catharsis piñata. you could be a monster, too, under the same circumstances as i or anyone who has these disorders far worse than i do.

but it's really hard for me to read myself. it takes a lot more of a feeling for it to break the surface than is normal, and i was never taught to identify what a feeling is catered to my own uniqueness (something everyone should be afforded).

and i have a disconnect between physical and emotional reactions - i didn't think i felt disgust, because i don't get a visceral response to gross things. a lot of my emotions are just different shades of anger. if something disgusts me i get an angry "get the fuck away from me" feeling, i don't gag or whatever. it does set off my diagnosed OCD in some instances, which adds anxiety to the mix.

so i'd do things like be mega stressed and not feel it, then explode outwards like a neurotic control freak because i had no idea what my limits were. or how to solve the problem i was presently facing. i had to train myself to notice the signs in my thought patterns, rather than my body.

it turns out emotional empathy is based on context; how am i supposed to react "normally" to people when i don't know what "normal" is? i used to do some awful things to people when they were experiencing fear because i didn't understand it. i thought it was quaint. in the words of a friend, i was "sciencing the shit out of the situation." i didn't get answers or understand how people worked the healthy way, so i resorted to my own measures (which, of course, did not give me the answers i sought either.)

i have a hard time telling positive and negative emotions apart, which is good in some ways - i just let myself feel things. but the feelings last not very long. and are usually delayed. i'm unable to consent to things as a 34 year old adult normally, because when presented with something i don't care, which does not mean i want it. and because i don't care, i don't know it's a "maybe" at the time. when something bad happens to me it takes me a long time to even realize, and i can't purge it. this is my burden to bear - other people cannot read my mind. but a mental breakdown would be cathartic.

to deal with this botched brain of mine, i recognize it has strengths too. i raised a very well behaved cat, because i am more uncompromising than she is. and she is not afraid when i take her to the vet, because i am a source of emotional stability for her; i'm not reactive, so it calms her. i am able to Persist doing things that are unpleasant like trimming her ass hair, and she's allowed to vent - scratch, yell, bite - and i stay Null and it's over and she doesn't hide or run away because a) she was allowed to express the discomfort b) it was over quickly, which it wouldn't be if i let her carrying on make me stop the ordeal.

i am able to spot an anxious person from across the room. i was exploited a lot when i was young, and so it felt natural to exploit other people in vulnerable positions - something i mistakenly thought i was incapable of. i was always so good at spotting them with this predator brain of mine.

but i started to instead ask those people if they are okay. at first it felt insincere and bad and stupid because i wasn't Allowed to show care for other people, because psychopaths don't do that, because it's always mean spirited or fake when they do. but it became a habit. and it became normal. and it became a strength of mine. i do it because it's the right thing to do - i don't personally have to feel emotional about it for that to be real.

i am able to admit mistakes and apologize because i know when i need to, since my brain cycles through a narcissism spiral, and it's like -- bitch if you're reacting that severely you know you're wrong. it was another thing that sucked and felt insincere to begin with, but with practice it got easier. and with practice it caused me less discomfort. when my brain says arrogant things i respond with citation needed. my neuroscience education certainly helps with my perspective reorientation too.

i'm heavily medicated for these disorders + ADHD + OCD, which helps curb the anger and impulsiveness. i am really good at working with people now - these things being managed and my clinical nonplussed nature makes communication easy. i am able to de-escalate situations well, too.

i've had people apologize for crying, but i was so focused on listening to them i didn't notice - so they didn't have to feel bad about it. because i don't care that they're crying. i care about them. an intellectual sense of care is something everyone carries; it's what makes us choose to be patient, to listen, to mitigate the damage emotional reactivity can cause.

i have high cognitive empathy; i might not react to the emotional state of another person, but i know that my read on the situation will be inaccurate. so i simply ask them what they need, without assumption. this is something i wish more people were able to do. i get very uncomfortable with platitudes, personally - because i just can't relate to them at all and i feel pressured to Perform emotionally. that's just one example of different needs.

there's a lot more i could write about here - and i'm not really sure why i decided to write this now. i guess because the world is very painful lately, and these disorders get used as insults, as armchair diagnoses of people we don't like. there's a myriad of ways to be an asshole. maybe don't contribute to the problem of neglect that creates monsters like the one i could have become.

i am no longer 'a psychopath' because i no longer score on the checklist. but i carry these disorders with me, and i will forever, and i'm grateful that there were people in my life despite it all that loved me anyway.

a disclaimer:

i'd hazard against self-diagnosing these things; you might be on the autism spectrum (most of my close friends are, because we compliment eachother quite well in how our brains work), or have psycopathy-like traits during manic episodes, or have a lack of empathy because of apathy. you might have alexithymia from other causes. etc. i was assessed by both a psychiatrist with a criminology degree and one specializing in personality disorders.

[simandthedimbulbv2-0]

are there any lore bits for good ol' Dr. A. P. Aery❔

Indeed!

Lore: To outsiders, Dr. A. P. Aery is a mysterious wandering salesman. I’m reality, he’s a sort of wooden golem full of bees; a walking-talking hive hailing from ancient Egypt who has been producing ‘Sweet Bod’ for a very long time. Why? Nobody’s entirely sure. He seems to genuinely want to cure disease, but his fixation on this singular method raises some questions.

particulars under the cut

Dr. A has a bunch of underground storage areas around the world where he keeps the various ‘sweet bods’ while they mature. These range from catacombs to crypts to old bunkers to even a straight up coffin or two. He generally refers to the bods in a manner akin to a winemaker; he keeps track of the year the process began, the types of flora that provided the honey and the information of the deceased donor. Individual batches have the “vintage” and the donor’s name on the label. 

He’s actually a pretty competent physician and is genuinely polite and professional to his patients. He’s not entirely what one would call ‘morally sound’ but it’s worth noting that the process of creating a Sweet Bod requires the explicit consent of the donor because the process begins before death. 

Dr. A is very particular about this process and refuses to change it for any reason. 

Dr A’s bees are their own unique species not found anywhere else, much to the confusion of entomologists who happen across them.

Dr A names each of his queens. The current one is named Drusilla.

His hive has been around for thousands of generations and he takes care of all their needs, carrying them to locations that provide nectar, warmth and genetic diversity at all times of the year.

In turn, his bees help him with various tasks including verbal communication; the drones of his colony are specially equipped to produce various frequencies that mimic speech by vibrating their wings. It works impressively well, though his voice does come out sounding a little buzzy.

Speaking of, while he does speak to communicate, his movement and body language tends to be very jaunty and affectated, reminiscent of the wiggly dance language of his bees. 

Carries a cane that is actually the pole of a shovel. When he needs to dig up his product, he simply reattaches the blade to the end. 

Absolutely mortified by the rumours surrounding him as he has 0 interest in sexual activity whatsoever. He just happens to be really, really unfortunate when it comes to accidental innuendo. His general smooth demeanour doesn’t help matters either.

Extremely persuasive speaker until he gets embarrassed, at which point he gets tongue tied.

Occasionally prays to the Egyptian goddess Serket.

He seems to spend the money he makes on more supplies for Sweet Bod, but that doesn’t quite account for all of it. Nobody knows what he does with the rest.

He is 5’6” and his weight fluctuates based on how much honey he’s carrying at any given time.

His hands are the primary exit port for said honey store, so he keeps an extra pair of gloves on him at all times in case the first pair gets sticky 

He tends to use a variety of slang from different eras, even in the same sentence, and generally uses somewhat antiquated manners and processes. 

Impeccable sense of rhythm. 

[she-karev]

A Day in Hell (Amber Karev Angst)

Previous Part

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Six

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Fancast: Bruce Greenwood as Ian Talbert

Canon Episode: Season 17 Episode 1

AN: I wanted to do a story to showcase the hardships health care workers faced when covid hit. The doctors and nurses put our health first during a worldwide crisis and we should be forever grateful for that even without a pandemic to prove what should always be known.

Summary: Amber and Pierce try to convince Ian to get treatment but he refuses and tells them why.

Words: 1008

Chapter Links Here: 1,2,3,4,5,6

April 1st, 2020

Amber stands six feet from Maggie Pierce who explains the severity of Ian Talbert’s condition as he lies in bed with a nasal cannula. He has been coughing violently for three minutes straight that suggest he’s getting worse by the minute. Amber looks at him in pity trying to stay in doctor mode even with a patient she likes.

Ian sips his water before responding to his diagnosis, “I’m dying?”

Maggie explains, “Your lungs have glass opacities which increase the density and make it more difficult for you to breathe. Based on your coughing, the pneumonia is getting worse and we should start heavy antibiotics and keep you here for the next two weeks until you improve. If this persists, we can talk about removing the damaged parts of your lung surgically with your consent.”

“And what happens if I don’t do the meds or surgery? How long?”

Maggie thinks, “Given the rapid progression I would say a night before…”

Ian lays back in bed with a blank face for a few moments before he inhales deeply and coughs out, “No.”

The women look at the 64-year-old confused before Amber asks, “What do you mean no?”

“No treatment.” Amber widens her eyes at that in shock, “Just keep me here until I croak and call my attorney, he’s in charge of the arrangements.”

“Ian…” Amber sits in a chair next to Ian who is coughing lightly, “I know this is scary but there is a chance this could work if we do it now and we do it fast.”

“I appreciate that, really, I do. You’ve all been so good to me, and you’ve made this experience slightly less unbearable. But when this started, I told myself ‘Ian if you get this thing just let it take you and it’ll all be over’ I know that sounds bleak and you think I’m taking the easy way out but I’m not.”

Maggie steps in, “Ian, I don’t know you and you don’t know me. But I care about you, and I want to fight for you to keep going. Now if you want us to stop treatment that is your decision, but I need to know you are absolutely sure about this. It’s a big decision and you need to think about it before it’s too late. We’re at the early stages so survival is possible, you just have to be willing to fight for you too.”

Ian looks at the women in thought before pointing at the three white boards he wrote his equations on, “Can you tell me what you see?”

Amber looks at the math, but she doesn’t recognize the technique as it’s for risk factor, “I don’t know it looks like linear algebra maybe.”

Ian nods, “Your right. This board calculates the odds of having a baby over the age of 30. It also shows the odds she’ll have blonde hair.” Ian points at the second board, “These are the odds of her reading before she’s six. These are the odds of her making cadet sergeant in her high schools ROTC group.”

Ian chuckles nostalgically coughing before continuing, “These are the odds she’ll choose to enlist in the army instead of the air force.”

Ian points at the third board that causes him to freeze with agony written on his face causing Amber and Maggie to look at him in sympathy as they can already guess what the board shows.

Ian swallows and speaks in a broken voice, “These are the odds of her being blown up in an IED explosion in Afghanistan at the age of 22.” Amber looks down feeling sad for a man who knows a pain no parent should ever experience. Maggie sighs and looks up at the ceiling also affected but let’s Ian continue his sad story written on the boards.

“The odds of your marriage surviving the death of your only child…of you losing your job.”

Amber looks up at Ian who is tearing up, “I am so sorry.”

Ian nods, “I know you want me to fight but I don’t have it in me anymore. I’m just so tired, I just.” Ian starts to cough, “I just want it to-” Ian coughs violently causing Maggie to increase his oxygen intake to 90 causing him to breath more easily after a few moments. He lays there still coughing but only slightly.

Ian faces Amber who is still sitting on the chair, “I just want it to stop. Please let it stop.”

Maggie nods understanding this isn’t a light decision, “Okay it’s okay.”

Amber nods knowing there’s nothing they can do at this point, “We’ll make you comfortable and ease your pain with some meds until…I’ll be right here until the end. I swear.”

“Is there someone we can call for you?” Maggie asks, “Someone who wants to say goodbye?”

Ian coughs, “There’s just my ex-wife and I don’t think she wants to see me right now. I wasn’t the best guy after Olivia died certainly not the best husband.” Ian looks at Maggie who frowns in sadness, “Do you think she would care if I…?”

Amber nods knowing no matter how mad she is at him if it was Andrew in bed dying, she would want to know and get to say goodbye before it’s too late, “I would, if I was her, I would care and I would want to say goodbye.”

Ian looks on in thought before deciding, “Can you get me a tablet and leave me to talk to her alone?”

“Of course, Karev?” Amber stands up and exits the room with Maggie, “I have other patients to see, can you monitor and update me if he changes his mind?”

“Yeah. I’ll get his wife on zoom and leave them to talk…I really thought he was gonna make it.”

Maggie nods, “I know…just make him comfortable and let me know when we can contact his attorney.” Amber nods before grabbing a tablet and taking a deep breath before going back inside Ian’s room.

Next Chapter Here

[fixfoxnox]

Something In The Orange - Part 20

Description: Roach is out of the hospital and back on base

Warnings: Mental Health discussions, guilt/self hatred, discussion of dubious consent/SA

Note: I am also posting this to my Ao3 if you would prefer to read it there

Word Count: 7.9k

"I swear I've known you from another time

And I caught you down the line, but I couldn't stop you moving

And when I found you by the riverside

It's waters wild and wide, you left me again"

"After Many Miles" - The Ghost of Paul Revere

“How are you feeling today?” 

Roach shifted uncomfortably in his seat, letting his hands rub nervously over the fabric of the couch underneath him as he tried to formulate a response. “Fine,” he settled on after a moment. “Ready to get this over with.”

The woman across from him gave a small, comforting smile, “I know this is hard,” she folded her hands in front of her patiently, “Most people who I see struggle through these sessions. That’s okay. You should know that.” Roach didn’t respond, he only shifted nervously again before giving her a nod. “How was your time off?”

Roach almost gave a snort at the question, his mind calling back to the past month and a half of his life, all spent at home with his family. “Tiring,” he said after a moment, “I’m not used to spending so much time at home.”

“I guess your family spent a lot of time doting on you?”

“If by doting on me,” Roach shook his head fondly, “You mean watching my every move like a hawk. Then yes, they spent quite a bit of time doting on me.” His mind called back to the way his mother had refused to let him do anything for himself the first week or so after he’d been released from the hospital. The way his brothers had come by almost every day to check up on him. 

The time at home had been refreshing to him. Sure, it was a little annoying to be home, only able to talk to the other members of the 141 over the phone as the team was forced back to work much sooner than him. And sure, it was a little overwhelming to spend so much time at home after years of coming back for only a week or so at a time. But it was also wonderful, so unbelievably wonderful.

He hadn’t ever spent so much time around his nieces and nephews. He’d seen them so often that he found it easy to understand why his brothers had decided to have so many of them. Spending time with his brothers again was a blessing. For the first time in this life, he was really able to appreciate the two men, really able to appreciate how much they cared about him. It made him mourn his childhood a bit, sad that he’d been so wrapped up in his own grief that he’d missed so much time with them. 

Then there were his parents. He knew that they were happy to have him home, but he’d thought that he would be more nervous to spend so much time around them. He thought that those memories of his parents in his first life would begin to haunt him again. Instead, he found that he was grateful and so happy. He found that his mother's gentleness and his father's care in this life were enough to drive the fears that his parents in his first life had instilled in him away. There was still work to be done, still, things he was trying to readjust his mind to, but he’d found it had become easier to accept his life. He found that his first life didn’t seem to plague his mind so much.

He knew now, knew that he didn’t fit into his first life anymore. It had been something he’d been trying not to accept for some time. Something he’d been pushing down for what had to be years. He’d put his first life on a pedestal, held it in such high regard in his mind, he’d let it rule his current life. Not anymore. He really wanted to live, without those memories plaguing everything that he did. It was a sad realization, that he no longer fit in his first life, but there was happiness too. Happiness that he could finally let go. 

Of course, nothing could ever be so simple for him, and, with the acceptance that he didn’t fit in his first life anymore came a new question, a new concern that plagued his mind. He didn’t fit in his first life anymore, but did he fit in this life?

He shook himself out of his thoughts, anxiety rising in his chest as his mind ventured into that rabbit hole. He focused himself back on the woman in front of him, forcing a small smile on his face, “It was nice being home, though.”

The woman watched him closely, it was like she knew what he’d just been thinking, like she knew his mind had taken a quick spiral before he’d come back to himself. She tilted her head at him, “How did your family handle your decision to return to the military?”

Roach winced at the question, he was sure it let her know that she’d landed on a sensitive subject with the question. “As well as they could.”

“I understand your mother isn’t a big fan of the military?”

“She isn’t a big fan of me being in danger,” Roach responded, his hands clenching at his sides, “She’s worried is all. She means well, but,” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. 

He’d made things worse when he told them, he knew that, It was, primarily, because he’d attempted to avoid telling them. There were papers that were sent over, things he had to sign. An agreement that he wouldn’t be put back into the field until it had been signed off by a therapist. An agreement that he’d still get to be on base, still get to train with the 141 while he waited to be allowed back into the field. There were other things too, papers about his injuries, and statements that needed to be made about his time with Makarov. Reports took up most of the papers. 

He’d intended to finish them up, sign them fully, and send them back before telling his family, ensuring that there was no way that they could try to talk him out of it. He was trying to avoid another incident like when he’d first enlisted. Another round of his family trying to talk him out of going back. He knew they would be more serious about it this time. 

He’d messed up though. “But?” The woman asked kindly, “She didn’t take it well, I assume?”

“I messed up,” Roach said lowly, gripping the fabric of his pants tightly. His fingers were still ruined, he’d still been picking and chewing at the skin there. “I was going to sign all the papers, and confirm everything before I told them.”

The woman nodded, her eyes soft, “I’m assuming they found them?”

“Yes,” Roach responded, “I went outside with some of my nieces and nephews. I guess my mom went into my room to change the sheets or something, she saw the papers.” Roach took in a breath, trying to calm himself. There were tears that threatened to form in his eyes, he could feel them in the way that his nose began to twitch and sting. “She didn’t tell me at first. Told everyone else. Had my brother and his wife take me out to dinner, when we got back, the whole family was there.”

The woman across from him scribbled something down against the clipboard she had in her hands, her face serious. “They ambushed you?”

“An intervention is what my mother said,” Roach tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling in hopes that it would help keep tears from falling down his face. It was nice to have someone confirm what he’d been thinking though, that it was an ambush. “I told them I didn’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t their decision, it was mine. Told them I was going back. Mom didn’t like that.” He brought his head back down, and brought his thumb to his mouth so he could tear at the skin there, his mind was a bit foggy with the memory, “We argued. Everyone just kinda let my mom speak for them, so it was really just me and her. She said she couldn’t understand why I would go back, why I wouldn’t just stay home with them. And I,” He cut himself off, biting against the skin of his thumb harder. He could taste blood in his mouth. 

“It’s alright,” The woman said comfortingly, “I’m not here to judge you.”

“I got frustrated. I just started yelling. I told them I couldn’t stay there, couldn’t stay home for too long. Told them I went crazy if I was around them for too long. Told them I could,” tears fell from his eyes then, his breathing becoming shaky, “told them I could see the way they looked at me. Told them I knew they still thought I was crazy.”

“Your childhood,” the woman reached out, grabbing a box of tissues from the small coffee table between them and handing it over to Roach, he took it nervously. “In your file, it mentioned that you’d been to psychologists when you were younger. Said that they’d wanted to diagnose you with PTSD, but that the head doctor would never sign off on it.” She looked down at her papers, “Forgive my language, but I do think that doctor was a piece of shit.” 

The words pulled a snort from Roach, laughter wracking his system for a few minutes. He was sure he looked crazy as he laughed, tears falling from his face that he tried to wipe away quickly, there was no judgment though, only a small smile sent his way. “That’s what my mom said,” he responded, “When I was younger. Our town was small though, no other place to go. But she held a grudge for years. Used to bake stuff for the entire building and add a little sign to it that said anyone but he could have some.”

“She sounds like she was very protective of you. Still is it seems.” Roach nodded, fondness flooding his system as he remembered his normally calm mother spitting out curses at the man because he’d refused to sign off on the diagnoses simply because there was no “identifying incident.” She’d nearly punched the man on several other occasions, something that had amused Roach, even when he was stuck in the body of a child. “I’ve amended your papers,” the woman gave him a nod, “With the information I have, it seems obvious to me that you were suffering from PTSD as a child. It’s understandable that being home for too long would bring up memories of your childhood for both you and your parents.” She tilted her head at him, watching him closely for a moment, “How did your family handle what you said?”

“It hurt them,” he shook his head at himself, guilt clawing its way up his throat from where it had been sitting neatly in his chest since he’d woken up in the hospital, “Mom just kinda went silent. Sat down. She just looked…empty?” He bit his lip, “I just felt so guilty after I said it. I left for a few hours and walked around the woods, and through town. My brother came after me. He picked me up about three hours later, drove me back home, didn’t say a word to me the entire time. I apologized to mom the next morning, she did too.”

“So you made up? That seems good.”

“I don’t know,” Roach shrugged his shoulders, biting at his fingers again, “I still feel so guilty for what happened, for what I said.”

“Did your mother seem to linger over it?”

“She was careful with me,” He noted, “Didn’t mention anything else about me coming back, though I could tell it still bothered her a bit. Other than that, it was like she just went back to normal,” he shifted in his seat again, trying hard not to consider that his mother had been more upset than she let on. 

“It seems to me,” the woman started carefully, “That perhaps your outburst was a bit of a wake-up call for her. Maybe it made her realize that she’d still been treating you like she had when you were younger. Like she still needed to protect you.” She watched him for a moment, as though reading the twisted expression that had taken over his face, “You shouldn’t linger over things that you don’t know. If your mother seemed like she was okay, like she wasn’t angry, then she probably wasn’t.”

The words took Roach by surprise and he jerked back slightly. It was as though the woman in front of him had opened up his mind and peered directly at his thoughts. It was both impressive and scary how well she’d been able to read him. He took a calming breath, trying to keep from showing how her words had affected him. “Right,” he gave a nod, “It’s just hard not to linger over it, not to worry that I hurt her.”

“I understand,” she gave him a small smile, “But you can’t linger on things you can’t control. It isn’t healthy to fixate on what-ifs.” She leaned forward slightly, “We should try to challenge those thoughts, remind ourselves that some things are out of our control. I know it can be difficult, but it’s a good tool to help us practice some of that self-love in a simple way. We’ll have to train our brains to do that. Do you understand?”

Roach nodded hesitantly. What the woman was suggesting seemed much harder than she made it out to be, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Silence fell over the small room for a moment and Roach shifted uncomfortably once again. After another moment, he cleared his throat, looking around the room. She was watching him carefully, it was making him more nervous than he wanted to admit.

After a moment, he opened his mouth to speak, “So,” he started, rubbing his hands against his pants to try to comfort himself, “Is that it then? I get to go back on duty because I talked about my mommy issues?”

The woman’s mouth quirked up slightly and she pulled her wrist up to check her watch. “With the rest of our time today,” she spoke softly as she started to flip through a few things on her clipboard, “I’d like to go over what you experienced during your time with Vladimir Makarov.” 

The words made Roach freeze. This was the last thing that he wanted to talk about. “I don’t,” he started, “I don’t think that’s necessary.” His leg started bouncing up and down quickly, he forced himself to stop when he noticed the woman’s eyes shoot to the movement, watching closely. 

“Nothing specific for now,” the woman assured him, “I just want to get a general idea of the things that we’ll be working through in our future sessions. You can just give me an overview and then we’ll move on to whatever you want to for the rest of the session or,” she gave him a small smile, “We’ll even cut the session short for the day so you can go get some rest.” 

There was silence around the room as Roach tried to come up with some excuse or some reason why he didn’t need to talk about his time with Makarov. He really didn’t want to go through it with the woman. He hadn’t even been able to talk about what had happened with Soap and Ghost, he certainly didn’t think he’d be able to talk about it with a woman he hardly knew. 

There was another part of him. A part that commented that, since he didn’t know this woman well, she would be the perfect person to tell. That part of him had been screaming to be let out for the past month. That part of him wanted and needed nothing more than to tell someone about what had happened, to have someone tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t done wrong. That he hadn’t betrayed his team. That he hadn’t betrayed Soap and Ghost. 

That part of him often got buried. 

“I don’t know what there is to say,” Roach shook his head, “I mentioned most of it in my reports.”

The woman tilted her head, “Yes,” she said, there was a slight note to her voice that told Roach that something else was coming, “Most of it.” She agreed. Her eyes caught his, “But there is a lot left out here isn’t there? Your report doesn’t mention the incident in Finland, the one mentioned in Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant MacTavish, and Sergeant Garrick’s reports from the incident.” 

Roach froze slightly. He didn’t know quite how to respond to the woman in front of him, or the knowledge that she definitely knew that he’d left out that and likely far more information in his report. He just hadn’t been able to write everything down, so he’d settled on writing the bare bones of what he could stomach. “It,” he started slowly, “it must have slipped my mind.”

“I’m sure,” the woman’s voice wasn’t accusing as she added, “Just like the source of that stab wound you had must have slipped your memory. Or the broken nose. Or how exactly you got those wounds that Captain Price and Lieutenant Riley found you with.” She tilted her head at him, her eyes serious, but kind, “I’m here to help you, Sergeant Sanderson. In order to do that, I need to know what happened.” 

Roach ran a hand over his face, his nerves shooting back up. He started tapping his heel again, he didn’t try to stop himself this time. One of his hands came up to his mouth so that he could bite at his nails and the skin around his fingers. He wrapped an arm around his middle, his eyes locked on to the rug on the floor rather than the woman in front of him. He took in a deep, shaky breath. The room felt hot. The room felt like it was closing in on him. 

“I,” he finally managed to get out, his voice shaky, “It’s a lot.”

“I understand,” Her voice and the lack of judgment on her face calmed him just a bit. He felt like he could breathe a bit clearer, “We’ll start off abstract. On just vague general things. We don’t have to talk about anything in particular until you’re ready.” 

Roach glanced at her hesitantly. Maybe it would be okay if he kept things vague. “I don’t have to…give detail?”

“Not until you’re ready,” the woman assured. “We’re going to work at your pace.”

“My pace,” Roach repeated to himself. There was a dizzying feeling that threatened to take over his mind if he continued speaking, but he didn’t care. He needed to talk. That part of his mind that he’d been shoving into a box needed some pressure released from it. “Okay,” he finally said, “Okay I think I can do that.”

The woman gave him a soft nod, “That’s good. Whatever you feel comfortable telling me, okay? I may ask some questions at the end, but all you’ll have to do is say yes or no.”

Roach nodded and he took a deep breath in. It was almost hard to force the words out, but once he began speaking, he found that they came easily, “After pretending to kill Price, Makarov sent men to find me. One of them stabbed me. Makarov killed him because of it. I passed out and woke back up in Russia.” He took another deep breath, “Makarov told me about the bracelet. He wanted me to kill someone for him. I,” he hesitated, but with a quick glance at the non-judgemental face that the woman wore he continued speaking, “I did it. He had me kill more people. He brought me to Finland to make me kill someone in front of the team. I attacked him after we left. He won.” He grit his teeth slightly. 

His mind recalled what had happened next. His realization of what Makarov wanted. His words. The way he’d batted his lashes at the man and lured him in, playing into his fantasies. He nearly felt sick as he recalled the man’s hands against his skin, his mouth against his own. His mind went to Soap and Ghost again. They didn’t know. They didn’t know what he’d done. They couldn’t know. He skipped that bit and continued, “Within the next few days the team showed up, I went to try and stop Makarov, but he caught me off guard. He planned to take me with him again.”

He stopped then, swallowing hard as he listened to the woman across from him write something down in her notes. “I’m just going to ask a few questions,” she said softly, “The man who stabbed you, did you see Makarov kill him?” Roach nodded his head in response, sickness creeping up his throat once again as he remembered the sickening crack of bones echoing around the church. “There were several days between your injuries and when the teams raided Makarov’s compound?” 

Roach was taken aback by the question, his body thrumming with nerves, “Yes.” He begged whatever God was out there that she didn’t ask him what had happened during that time. What he’d done during that time. 

She paused for a moment, looking up at him in silence for several seconds, as though considering her words. Roach knew then that she was going to ask, in some form or another she was going to ask. “Captain Price and Agent Laswell mentioned that Makarov’s interest in you might not have been strictly for the use of getting to the 141.” 

Roach took in a deep breath, “He seemed to think that I understood him. That we were the same in some way.”

The woman nodded slowly, “And his…interest in you, it never went further than that?”

Roach clenched his hands, his throat feeling tight. “He was obsessive,” he said simply. 

“Yes,” the woman nodded, “But how far did that obsession go?”

Roach couldn’t stand the way that she was skirting around the question, trying hard to ask without actually asking. It drove him crazy. He took a deep breath before leveling her with a serious stare, “Ask what you want to ask.”

She tilted her head at him, as though considering if he could handle it. Finally, after a moment, she nodded, “Sergeant Sanderson, did you have a romantic relationship with Vladimir Makarov? Consensual or otherwise.”

Roach didn’t run from the room, but it was certainly close. His heart was pounding, his throat felt tight, and he was sure that his eyes were rimmed red. All of his plans of getting back to the norm of missions were flushed down the drain with several questions asked to him by a woman in a blazer. It was a bit annoying. 

He barely watched where he was going as he marched down the hallways of the base, letting muscle memory guide him back to the room where he’d spent all of his nights since arriving at the new base. He hardly even knew where his own room was, but he had the path to this one memorized like the back of his hand. 

During his month of leave, the team had been moved to a more permanent base in England. The area was unfamiliar to Roach, and the plane ride with his things had been hell, but he found that he actually quite liked their new base. At the very least, the rooms that they were given to use if they didn’t have a place off base were quite nice. Roach was almost upset that they hadn’t been at the base sooner. Almost. 

He approached the door to the room, not even bothering to knock before swinging it open, stepping inside, and closing it with a little more force than he meant to behind him. The noise gained the attention of the other two men in the room. He was given a raised brow by Simon. He was on the other side of the room, slipping on his jacket and his fingerless gloves. His mask wasn’t on, but it was set off to the side. 

Similarly, Soap was slipping his shirt over his head when Roach had barged in, his head turning to give him a smile in greeting. They were both getting dressed. Roach didn’t understand. “Are you guys going somewhere?”

“Well hi, to you too, Bug,” Soap gave a laugh.

Roach winced, guilt tugging at his chest as he realized how snippy his voice had sounded, “Sorry,” he gave the two an apologetic smile, his hands raising just enough that he could join them together and begin picking at the skin around his fingers again. Not even the warning stings of pain in his hands could stop him. “Just wasn’t expecting to find the two of you up and getting ready.”

“We have a team meeting,” Simon raised an eyebrow at him, “Didn’t Price tell you? You’re still allowed to sit in on meetings right?”

Roach shook his head. Captain Price had not informed him about any meeting. His jaw tightened, but he forced a smile as he replied, “I must have missed it in my email, you guys know i’m shit at checking it.”

There was a hum from Simon, his eyes watching him closely for several moments. “How did your session go?”

Roach gave a huff, making his way toward them all so that he could throw himself face down onto the bed with a groan. It pulled a chuckle from both of the men, a sound that had Roach feeling warm. “Terrible. I hate psychiatrists.”

In a moment, someone was sitting next to him on the bed and there was a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. He didn’t have to look up to know it was Soap, he could identify the man by touch at this point. “I know it sucks, Bug, but it’s good for you.”

Roach gave a huff. “I just want to get back to normal. You know, missions and coming back to base to hold you guys' hands and shit,” he whined, pulling another laugh from Soap. 

“You’ve been holding our hands,” that was Simon, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“Not enough,” Roach responded, peeking up at him from the sheets. 

“Well, good news,” he turned his head so that he could look at Soap, “You can hold our hands on the walk to the meeting room. I’ll even let you walk in the middle this time,” his last few words were said with an overexaggerated huff that pulled a grin from Roach. 

Roach popped up from the bed, moving closer to Soap with a grin, “Yeah? With no complaints?”

“No complaints,” Soap held a hand up, “Scout's honor.” Soap leaned closer to him, his hand coming up to stroke his cheek gently. Roach leaned into the movement for a moment, a happy hum leaving his mouth as, for a brief second, his mind went pleasantly blank. That brief second ended when he closed his eyes happily, flashes of Makarov’s hands on his face making him pull back from Soap quickly. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d pulled away from Soap, or Ghost for that matter. It was never their touches that had him pulling away. Never their kisses that made him separate from them. It wasn’t the reminder of what he’d done that had him moving. It was the guilt. 

He wasn’t haunted by Makarov’s touches. Not in the way that others might have been. He didn’t dream of the man haunting his every move. He didn’t dream of those hands against his skin. Sure, when he thought about what he’d done he felt sick, but that wasn’t because of the memories. It was because of the guilt. 

How could he let Soap and Ghost touch him? How could he let them love him the way that they do? How could he take that so easily when he knew that he’d betrayed them? How could he let that happen when he’d played into what Makarov wanted? How could he let that happen when he’d let another touch him with no complaint? 

He didn’t think he was worthy of the love that they showed him. That open affection that they so easily gave to him. He’d been treading the line, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for them to learn what he’d done. Waiting for them to feel just as disgusted with him as he felt with himself. 

He recognized the confusion on Soap’s face as he pulled away. He could see the look that Simon was giving him. He knew that they knew that something was going on. He was just hoping to hold on to them for a bit longer. For his own, selfish, reasons. 

He popped up from the bed, pretending not to see the looks on their faces as he stretched his arms into the air, taking in a deep breath as he moved. “What time is the meeting?” He asked as he turned back to face the two. 

Simon watched him for a moment before tilting his eyes down to check his watch, “Fifteen minutes. We should probably start moving if we don’t want to be late.”

“You mean if we want to be early,” Soap said with a roll of his eyes. He stood from the bed and made his way over to his shoes, slipping them on his feet quickly. “No way we’re going to be late when the meeting doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. It’s not even a five-minute walk over there.” 

Roach leaned against the wall by the door, listening to Soap and Simon debate back and forth on what was early and what was late. He picked idly at his thumb, biting his lip as he watched them, a sad sort of affection blooming in his chest. He loved to just watch the two at times, listen to them talk. He was glad to say that he was past the days of feeling like a third wheel in these moments. Past the days of his mind calling something in his first life to the forefront just to remind him of what he’d lost. Sure he’d lost, but look at what he’d gained. Even if he knew it wouldn’t last.

It was a few more moments before Simon was slipping on his mask and he and Soap were joining Roach by the door. Just as Soap had promised, when the three stepped out of the room, Ghost shutting and locking it behind him, he allowed Roach to stand in the center of their little group. One of his hands was taken first by Soap, the man pulling him closer to his side with a grin. A moment later and his other hand was gently taken by Simon, a small, comforting squeeze given to the limb. Roach pulled them both closer to him, practically squished between the two as they all made their way toward the conference room. 

Roach could tell by the look on Captain Price’s face when he walked into the room that the man hadn’t told him about the meeting on purpose. He wasn’t mad at him. He knew why he hadn’t wanted to tell him. 

Still, it did nothing to stop him from abandoning Soap and Ghost’s side as they went to take their seats, all to march up to Captain Price and glare him down. “You didn’t tell me about this meeting!” He hissed in a low voice. He didn’t need the rest of the team hearing his conversation with the man. 

“I’m sorry, lad,” Price responded, his voice genuine, “I just thought, after your session, you might have wanted a day. I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to come.”

Roach reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, a small sigh of frustration leaving his throat, “I appreciate that, Price, I really do.” He stopped to look at the man fully, “But really? If you’re worried about that then just tell me if I’m not feeling up to it that I don’t have to come.”

“I’m sorry,” Price responded.

“Just,” Roach shook his head, “Please don’t do it again. It’s really frustrating to only find out there’s a meeting because of Soap and Ghost. Doesn’t really make me feel like you guys see me as a valid part of the team.” His eyes widened slightly at the confession. 

It wasn’t one he’d meant to make. His mouth was running faster than his brain could follow and filter. It was the truth though. He’d been terribly worried that after over a month away from the team and now the time that he would be off for his mandated therapy sessions, the team would grow comfortable without him there. That they’d realize that they didn’t need him anymore. 

It was a stupid thing to worry about. But it didn’t stop his mind from whispering those words to him. It had taken to doing that more and more often now. What if they don’t need you anymore? What if they’re still angry? What if you’re fucked up for good? What if, what if, what if. It just kept going. 

He thought back to his therapist's words from earlier, about trying to stop those what-if phrases from taking hold in his brain. It was much easier said than done, still, he tried. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that those were just scenarios. Unlikely scenarios. Not the reality. It seemed to help a bit, that pressure in his chest relieving itself slightly. 

Price reached out to him, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry, lad. It won’t happen again.” He paused, as though hesitant, before adding, “You are a valued and valid member of this team Roach. Please remember that.” 

Roach let out a small breath, the words calming those feelings in his chest even further. Though he was embarrassed by his words, it was nice to have someone else there to validate his feelings and give him some reassurance. “Thank you, Captain.” He gave Price a small, flashed smile before turning around and making his way to where Soap and Ghost were, an open seat between them saved for him. It made his heart ache with joy for a brief moment. That feeling disappeared from his chest. 

The group waited several more minutes until Gaz finally stumbled into the room, his eyes locked onto his phone as he typed several things out rapidly. From the grin on his face, Roach knew that he was likely messaging Jackson. He couldn’t help but grin at Gaz, happy that two of his friends seemed to have found happiness together. He had to admit, they made a far better pairing than he’d expected. 

Price cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention and prompting Gaz to put his phone face down on the table. “Boys,” he started with a small smile, “As you all know, we’ve been tracking one of Makarov’s would-be successors,” his eyes shot to Roach at the mention of Makarov.

“Any news?” Gaz asked, leaning forward against the table. 

“He seems to have found his foothold in the party,” Price crossed his arms, tugging slightly at his beard, “Laswell’s been monitoring his activity. He went off of the grid four days ago. Popped back up in Brazil.”

“He’s taking over Makarov’s weapons deals in the area,” Roach guessed, “Rojas?”

“Still locked up tight,” Price nodded, “Seems like he’s got someone else. Some new partner in the area.”

Soap gave a low whistle, an annoyed look painted onto his face, “Weapons dealers. Always popping up somewhere. Take one out and two more come from the shadows.”

“Any idea on the new partner?” Simon was the one who asked, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms. 

“We didn’t have any leads on them, that was until about a day ago.” He tapped a few buttons on his computer before spinning it around to show the group a picture of a woman, “Francisca Costa, apparently she’s stolen nearly all of Rojas’ clients while he’s been in custody, including the ultranationalists.” 

“How’d we figure this out?” Roach asked, squinting at the picture. Often times it was hard to follow when terrorists switched up who their shipments were from. Most of the time it took months to establish enough of a pattern.

“Because,” Price took in a deep breath, “It seems that Francisca was being monitored closely by another team.”

“Another team?”

“PMC,” Price responded, “Group called KorTac. They got in contact with us a few days ago, apparently heard that we were watching out for Makarov’s replacement, said that they had some information that could help us bring him down before he gets started.”

“That’s rather nice of them,” Ghost commented with narrowed eyes, “What do they want in return?”

Price took a moment, rolling his neck before he leaned down to place his hands on the table, “Joint operation to take out both Francisca and our target.”

“Absolutely not,” Soap responded immediately, pushing himself away from the table, Roach turned to look at him watching as his face twisted into anger, “I’m not working with a PMC again.” 

“This isn’t like last time,” Price assured him, “It won’t be like last time.”

“How do you know that?” Ghost asked, “How do you know we won’t get fucked over again?”

Price shook his head at him, “I won’t let it happen. And,” he nodded, “Their group is smaller. Much smaller than Shadow Company. They won’t want something like that on their record for clients.”

There was a tense pause, silence hanging over the room for several moments. He’d never dealt with the Shadow Company of this life, but he understood the team’s hesitation to work with another PMC. He still felt the sting of betrayal from the Shadow Company of his first life, but he couldn’t say that. 

Still, there was no reason that they had not to, at the very least, work with this new group. If it allowed them to cut off another head of the ultranationalist party before they could really get started, keep them scrambling for long enough for the loyalists to fully turn the tides, it would do wonders for them. 

He leaned forward in his seat, fiddling with his fingers as he glanced at Ghost then Soap with a sense of anxiety laying over his shoulders. “How, uh,” he cleared his throat, feeling all of the attention in the room turn to him, “How many men do they want us to work with?” He looked around the group, “If it’s a larger number of people, that seems a bit suspicious.”

“KorTac isn’t a large group on its own,” Price started slowly, “They have thirteen operators in total, they want us to work with four of them. To match our numbers,” his eyes shot to Roach for a moment before he corrected, “our current numbers.”

“That seems reasonable,” Gaz crossed his arms, “What’s our timeline? How much time are we going to have to get to know these people before we have to trust them not to shoot us in the back?”

Price shot him a scolding look before responding, “They want to send them in ahead of time. Sometime within the next few days. They’re hoping that we can train together before the mission. Get to know each other and maybe even teach their people something.” 

Roach nodded. The request sounded reasonable. If they were a PMC, they’d want a chance for their people to learn from other teams, and pick up new skills that they could market. The entire thing sounded reasonable, as much as it pained him to admit it. That arrangement would also allow the team the chance to get to know the people that they were working with, and scope them out ahead of time to ensure that they could trust them. 

He pushed himself back in his seat and took a deep breath, “I say we do it.” He looked around the group, “I know I won’t get to go on the mission with you guys, but I can help in training. We can scope them out, make sure they aren’t suspicious.”

“Bug,” Soap commented quietly, “We can’t trust them.”

“After finding out Makarov had an informant who was working with us,” Roach responded, turning to him, “How do we know if we can trust anyone?” He looked around at the group, “I know I wasn’t with you guys during the situation with Shadow Company, but if you go around thinking you can’t work with people because you can’t trust them, we’ll never get anything done.” 

Quiet fell over the room again, Soap’s face twisted into something sour. Roach felt bad, he understood his anger, but they couldn’t miss the opportunity they were given. Not when they could get ahead of the ultranationalists and even have the chance to help wipe them out for good. 

Finally, after several moments, Ghost’s voice rang out, “Alright, but if they so much as breath wrong on one of us, that’s it.”

Price nodded to him, “Thank you, Simon.”

After another moment, Gaz nodded, “Alright, I guess.”

The group turned to Soap. He still seemed to be troubled. Like he didn’t want to agree with their words. He looked around at them all for several moments before he finally seemed to deflate a bit and respond, “Alright, but like Ghost said, if they breathe wrong. That’s it.”

It’s the middle of the night. He’s awake again. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not after his session. Not after the memories. 

He slowly peeled himself away from where he’d been draped over Soap’s back and slid out from under the covers, scooting himself until he was able to pull himself from the bed and stumble toward the bathroom. He didn’t bother turning on the light in the room, he just stripped off his clothes and turned the shower on.

The water was cold when he stepped in, not given a proper amount of time to warm up. He didn’t have the patience to wait. It was practically freezing on his skin, pulling a startled gasp from him as his body tried to recoil away from the cold. After a moment, the water warmed up and he was finally able to relax under the almost stinging heat it provided. 

He let himself lean back against the shower wall, closing his eyes with a sigh. Images flashed across the back of his eyelids, nothing more than nightmares. Scenarios his mind had created for itself, terrible terrible scenarios. 

He took in a breath through the water splashing across his face, reminding himself carefully that they were dreams. They weren’t the reality. They hadn’t happened. 

They will, his mind whispered back. Maybe Makarov is dead. Maybe he can’t hurt you physically anymore. But what you’ve done? What you did while with him? That won’t go away so easily.

Images flashed again. Hands on him. He invited them, fluttered his lashes and spoke low words. Low, careful words. He’d drawn memories from his time with Simon, and he’d used them with Makarov. He’d let the man touch him. Let the man kiss him. Let the man think that he’d given in. 

He’d done it to survive. He knew that. It didn’t change what he’d done. It didn’t change how he felt. It didn’t change the sickness that crept up his throat. The guilt clogged his arteries and threatened to burst his heart. 

His dreams reminded him of that. His dreams reminded him of what was to come. Of the looks of disgust that he’d be soon to see from Soap and Ghost. Johnny and Simon. The men he loved. They’d never want to touch him again, never want to see him again, they’d never trust him again. 

He’d lose them. Just like he lost the Soap and Ghost of his first life. Just like he’d lost everything else. Just like he’d continue to lose. Anything and everything he cared about. 

The water of the shower hid his tears, hid the evidence of his tears. He allowed the water to run, allowed himself to cry. He didn’t move, not even when the water of the shower began to run cold again, stinging his skin and pulling a shiver from deep in his bones.

Finally, when he didn’t think he would cry anymore, when he felt that he could control his emotions, he leaned forward to turn the water of the shower off. He was shaking as he stepped out, both from the cold and his own emotions. He let the water from his body drip to the floor, only grabbing a towel after a few moments of blankly staring. 

He wrapped the material around his shoulders, using it more as a blanket than a towel. He stopped in front of the mirror in the small bathroom, taking in his appearance for several moments, trying to be sure that he didn’t look like he’d just spent an unknown amount of time crying his eyes out as his mind tore itself apart. 

He traced his eyes over his body, stopping at the skin at his side that was still healing. He’d been warned by the doctors that it was likely going to leave a terrible scar because of how often it had been torn open. How violently it had been ripped apart. He brought his wrists up so that he could examine them. His left was slightly smaller than the right, still building back up muscle from the cast that had laid over it. His right had scar tissue already forming over it in a line from where Makarov had carefully cut it open. In time, it was sure to be nothing more than a line on his skin. 

He took in another deep breath, lowering his wrists to his side as he did so. He gave himself another few minutes, calming the rapid beating of his heart, before lifting the towel and beginning the process of drying himself off. He wrapped the material around his waist before leaving the safety of the bathroom to step back out into the room where Ghost and Soap were still sleeping.

He kept his footsteps quiet, creeping across the room to retrieve a new pair of pajamas for himself and slip into them. He took his time with the movements, knowing that he would have to inevitably go back to bed and try to sleep. He had another session the next morning and there was no doubt in his mind that his therapist would be able to see if he hadn’t slept. 

The team was going to have a busy few weeks ahead of them. With the members from KorTac arriving in several days and the preparation for their mission, Roach was sure that he was going to be busier and that Soap and Ghost would be busier as well. He only hoped that it wouldn’t impact how much he would get to see them. 

He carefully stepped back toward the bed, lowering himself to the mattress carefully before scooting close enough that he could once again tuck himself close to Soap. He wrapped himself under the covers and pressed his face into the man’s back, taking in a deep breath and trying to appreciate the warmth of the other man. 

Slipping back into sleep didn’t come easy. He expected it. His dreams weren’t pleasant. He wasn’t surprised. 

[digitalrhetoricpune]

How Healthcare Providers Can Use Content Marketing to Build Trust

1. Understand Your Patient’s Needs

To create effective content, healthcare providers must first understand their patients’ needs, concerns, and pain points. This involves identifying common questions patients have and addressing them through blogs, videos, and social media posts. Conducting surveys, analyzing patient feedback, and monitoring trending health topics can help in creating relevant and engaging content.

By prioritizing patient-centric content, healthcare providers can position themselves as reliable sources of information, enhancing patient engagement through content.

2. Leverage Digital Storytelling

Patients connect more deeply with healthcare providers who share relatable stories. Healthcare digital storytelling can be a powerful tool to humanize your brand and demonstrate empathy. Sharing real-life patient testimonials, recovery journeys, or behind-the-scenes glimpses of healthcare professionals at work can evoke trust and emotional connection.

For example, a video showcasing a patient’s journey to recovery, with their consent, can reassure potential patients about the quality of care provided. Integrating storytelling into your content marketing efforts can significantly help build patient trust online.

3. Create Informative and Accurate Content

Accuracy is critical in healthcare content marketing. Patients rely on healthcare providers for credible and evidence-based information. Blogs, articles, and videos should address health concerns, preventive care, and treatment options in a way that is easy to understand yet medically sound.

Incorporating keywords such as healthcare marketing services in Pune and Healthcare Digital Marketing Agency in Pune into your content not only optimizes it for search engines but also positions your brand as a local authority in healthcare marketing.

4. Use Visual Content Effectively

Visuals such as infographics, animations, and explainer videos can make complex medical topics more accessible. For instance, an infographic detailing symptoms of a common ailment or a step-by-step animation explaining a medical procedure can boost patient understanding and trust. Such engaging content can also be easily shared on social media platforms, further increasing your reach.

5. Educate Through Webinars and Live Sessions

Hosting webinars and live Q&A sessions with healthcare professionals can build credibility and provide value to your audience. These interactive platforms allow patients to ask questions and receive expert advice in real-time, enhancing their trust in your services.

Promoting these events on your website and social media channels using targeted keywords like Build patient trust online and Patient engagement through content can attract a broader audience and establish your authority.

6. Optimize Content for SEO

Healthcare providers must ensure their content is easily discoverable online. Optimizing blogs, articles, and web pages with relevant keywords like Healthcare Digital Marketing Agency in Pune and Healthcare marketing services in Pune can improve search engine rankings and attract more traffic to your website.

Using meta descriptions, alt tags, and structured data also helps search engines understand your content better, ensuring it reaches the right audience. Additionally, creating topic clusters around specific healthcare themes can strengthen your website’s authority in those areas.

7. Build Trust Through Transparency

Transparency plays a crucial role in healthcare content marketing. Sharing details about your qualifications, accreditations, and success stories on your website helps instill confidence in your audience. Including patient reviews and ratings further demonstrates authenticity and builds trust.

8. Leverage Social Media

Social media platforms are excellent for sharing bite-sized, engaging content. Regularly posting tips on preventive care, updates on new treatments, or wellness challenges can keep your audience engaged. Use platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn to foster conversations and create a sense of community around your brand.

Hashtags related to healthcare digital storytelling and patient engagement through content can amplify your reach and attract more followers.

9. Focus on Emotional Connections

Empathy is a cornerstone of healthcare. Content that resonates emotionally with patients can significantly impact their trust in your services. Stories that highlight compassion, resilience, and hope can leave a lasting impression on your audience.

10. Measure and Improve

Regularly analyzing the performance of your content marketing efforts is crucial. Use tools like Google Analytics to track metrics such as website traffic, engagement rates, and conversions. Insights from these metrics can guide future content strategies, ensuring continuous improvement and better results.

Conclusion

Content marketing is a powerful way for healthcare providers to build trust and establish lasting relationships with their patients. By creating informative, empathetic, and engaging content, healthcare brands can stand out in a competitive landscape. As a trusted Healthcare Digital Marketing Agency in Pune, we help healthcare providers craft strategies that enhance patient trust and drive meaningful engagement.

[medrevolvebilling]

What Is the Golden Rule in Medical Billing?

Medical billing can be stressful, with complicated codes, paperwork and ever-changing rules and regulations. It takes accuracy and strict compliance to several rules to overcome these challenges. At the heart of this process is the Golden Rule in medical billing, a principle that plays an important role in maintaining the financial health of medical practices and ensuring high-quality patient care. This rule emphasizes ethical practices, transparency and fairness, benefiting doctors, coders and patients. 

Understanding the Golden Rule

The Golden Rule in medical billing is simple: "Treat others the way you want to be treated." This means being honest, truthful and following rules and regulations of ethical practices. When used effectively, it develops positive working relationships between healthcare providers and billing service providers. Additionally, it increases the effectiveness of the billing process and makes sure that they handle patient information under the law.

Why Is the Golden Rule Important?

Trust and Transparency:

It would be important for the interaction of the patient and provider to be built on trust. As mentioned in the Golden Rule of billing practices, one reduces the chances of misunderstandings regarding the cost, service provided or the payment expectation. The same process will not only develop trust but will also enable patients to participate fully in decisions concerning their treatment.

Accurate Billing: 

There is in fact great importance placed on accuracy when it comes to medical billing. Nobody wants to deal with this as it can result in denied claims, late payments and unhappy patients. Billing should be considered as part of the patient care process such that charges are correct in reducing mistakes while raising patient satisfaction.

Patient-Centric Approach: 

Patient-centric means putting the patient first. This includes whether the charges can be explained in simple language. It also considers if affordable payment methods are provided and if client concerns are handled well. Kids are valued hence receive proper treatment when practices are conducted under the golden rule of this organization or facility.

Regulatory Compliance: 

Huge amounts of rules and regulations are present in the healthcare field and it is mandatory to follow them. The Golden Rule stresses on ethical practices and reminds the billing professional to deal with compliance issues. This commitment neither only benefits the patients but also the practice from legal implication consequences.

The Process of Golden Rule in Medical Billing

Applying the Golden Rule in medical billing requires a structured process that promises accuracy, transparency and ethical practices throughout the billing cycle. Here's a step-by-step breakdown of how the Golden Rule is integrated into medical billing:

Step 1: Patient Registration and Information Collection:

The process begins with collecting accurate patient details, including personal information, insurance coverage and consent for treatments. Ensuring this data is complete and correct is very important for preventing billing errors later.

Step 2: Service Documentation and Coding:

After the patient receives medical services, healthcare providers document the treatments and procedures. Medical coders then translate this information into standardized codes that reflect the services rendered, maintaining accuracy and adherence to regulations.

Step 3: Claim Preparation and Submission:

The next step involves preparing claims based on the documented services and submitting them to insurance providers. Following the Golden Rule, claims should be honest, complete and compliant with legal and ethical standards.

Step 4: Insurance Review and Response:

Insurance companies review the claims and either approve, reject or request additional information. A transparent and accurate claim submission increases the chances of approval, reducing delays and misunderstandings.

Step 5: Patient Billing and Communication:

Once insurance decisions are made, any remaining balance is billed to the patient. Clear communication of charges, payment options and timelines ensures the patient understands their financial responsibility, fostering trust and reducing confusion.

Step 6: Payment Collection and Follow-Up:

The final step involves collecting payments and following up with patients if necessary. Consistent and polite reminders, combined with flexible payment options, help maintain positive relationships and ensure timely payments.

By following this process, healthcare providers uphold the Golden Rule, promoting trust, accuracy and ethical practices in medical billing.

Challenges to Consider

As much as the golden rule remains the perfect prologue in medical billing, it is not so easy to practice. Some common challenges include:

Complex Insurance Policies: It can be rather challenging to figure out the financial compensation based on a specific insurance plan. This makes it important to train and educate billing staff on changes in these policies and even changes in policy.

Time Constraints: Lack of professional time for billing may cause mistakes in billing and conveyance of information in practices that are busy. Hiring more administrative staff is not always a solution for this problem because technology may be used to solve such problems.

Patient Education: Patients may not comprehend their insurance well or the billing structure of the medical facility well as other patients. Giving the people educational materials can help them to deal with their own finances in the care they need.

Conclusion

The Golden Rule is not just an adage in medical billing, it is a guideline, a set of ethics, that has the potential to revolutionise patient practice in the health sector. Therefore, choosing transparency, accuracy and ethics can help create a higher level of trust between healthcare facilities and patients. This not only improves the healthcare experience but also enhances financial results. A simple adoption of the Golden Rule can help break the barriers to an effective billing system as the industry cherishes credibility and trust.

READ MORE: https://medrevolvebilling.com/what-is-the-golden-rule-in-medical-billing/

[cnacertificationprogram]

Open Your Future: A Step-by-Step Guide to CNA Certification in Arizona

Unlock Your Future: ⁢A Step-by-Step Guide to CNA Certification in Arizona

If you’re considering a fulfilling career in ​healthcare, ‌becoming a Certified Nursing Assistant (CNA) in Arizona could be the perfect start. This role not only provides essential support to patients but also opens doors to a​ multitude of opportunities within the medical field. Whether you’re just starting your career ⁤or looking⁣ for‌ a change, this comprehensive guide will walk you through the step-by-step ​process of obtaining​ your CNA certification in Arizona.

What is a CNA?

A Certified⁢ Nursing Assistant (CNA) provides essential care to patients in hospitals, nursing homes, and other healthcare settings. They assist with daily⁤ activities like bathing, dressing, and feeding, thereby playing a vital⁢ role‌ in enhancing patient⁣ comfort‌ and ⁤recovery.

Why Choose a⁢ CNA Career in Arizona?

High Demand: Arizona’s growing elderly population has led ⁢to a significant demand for healthcare professionals.

Flexible Schedule: Many CNA jobs offer flexible hours, making it ideal for those with other‍ commitments.

Pathway to Advancement: Starting as a CNA can lead to further education and advancement in⁢ the nursing field.

Step 1: Understand the Requirements for CNA Certification in Arizona

Before you embark on your journey to becoming a CNA, it’s important to understand the state requirements:

Be at least 18 years old or have parental consent if under 18.

Have a‍ high school diploma or GED.

Complete a state-approved CNA​ training program.

Pass the Arizona CNA competency exam.

Step 2: Enroll in a State-Approved CNA Training Program

To become a CNA, you ‍must first complete a training program that ⁢meets state standards. Here’s what you should look for:

Accreditation: Ensure the program is accredited by the Arizona State ‍Board of Nursing.

Duration: Most programs last between 4 to 12 weeks and include both classroom instruction and clinical practice.

Cost: Tuition prices can vary​ widely, so research‌ multiple programs for the best fit.

Popular CNA Training Programs in Arizona

Program ​Name

Duration

Location

Price

Pima Medical Institute

4 Weeks

Tucson, AZ

$1,200

Gateway ⁣Community College

8 Weeks

Phoenix, AZ

$850

Cochise College

6 Weeks

Douglas, AZ

$1,000

Step 3: Complete ‍Your Training and Clinical Hours

Once you’re enrolled in a CNA training program, you’ll need to complete a set number of classroom hours (typically‍ around 60) and clinical hours (around 40). These hands-on experiences are crucial for ​gaining the skills needed to ⁣excel as a CNA.

Step 4:‍ Pass the Arizona CNA Competency Exam

After successfully completing⁣ your training, the next step ⁢is to pass the Arizona CNA competency exam, which consists of two parts:

Written Exam: A computer-based test covering nursing assistant ⁣skills and knowledge.

Skills Evaluation: ‍ Demonstrating key nursing​ assistance skills in a simulated environment.

Registration for the exam‌ can be done online through the Arizona State Board of Nursing website. ⁤A fee is required, typically around $150.

Step 5: Apply for CNA Certification

Once you pass your competency exam, you can apply ‍for your CNA certification. Make sure to:

Submit ⁤your exam results to⁤ the ⁤Arizona State Board of Nursing.

Fill out the ⁣certification application‍ form.

Provide proof of completion of your training program.

Pay the certification fee, typically around $50.

After approval, you will receive your CNA certification, allowing you to work as a nursing assistant in Arizona.

Benefits of Becoming ⁣a​ CNA in Arizona

Job Security: The healthcare industry is consistently in need​ of ‌qualified CNAs,⁤ ensuring stable employment.

Experience: ​ Working as a CNA gives you invaluable experience ⁣that can be beneficial if you pursue further education in ⁢nursing.

Personal Fulfillment: Providing care and improving the lives of patients can be incredibly rewarding.

First-Hand Experience: Life as a CNA

Here’s a brief stories from ⁣a CNA in⁣ Arizona:

“I started my career as a CNA to make ⁤ends meet while exploring other nursing pathways. The⁢ experience I gained was invaluable. I learned so much about​ patient care and ⁢developed ‌relationships⁣ that taught me the importance of compassion in healthcare.” – Sarah ⁣M., Certified Nursing Assistant.

Case Studies: Successful CNAs in Arizona

Many CNAs in Arizona have leveraged their experiences to move into higher-paying healthcare​ roles. For instance, a former CNA, Jane Doe, advanced to a Registered Nurse ‍after completing her degree,​ showcasing how a CNA position can be a⁤ stepping stone in the ‍healthcare field.

Practical ⁤Tips​ for Aspiring CNAs

Stay Organized: Keep track of your training hours, assignments, and exam dates.

Network: ⁤ Connect with fellow students and professionals in the field for ⁢advice and​ job opportunities.

Practice, Practice, Practice: Utilize study groups and hands-on practice to prepare for your exams.

Conclusion

Embarking on your journey to becoming ‌a Certified Nursing Assistant in Arizona is an empowering step toward a rewarding career in healthcare. By following this step-by-step⁣ guide, you⁤ can confidently navigate the process from training to certification. Remember, as a CNA, you have the opportunity ⁣to make a positive impact on patients’ ‍lives, paving the way for a brighter future for ⁤yourself in the ever-evolving healthcare landscape. Start your journey today and unlock your future!

https://cnacertificationprogram.net/open-your-future-a-step-by-step-guide-to-cna-certification-in-arizona/