#you already have the doctor’s affections

[3leafedclover]

im just gonna rb this post to rant in my echo chamber cause i love my little echo chamber house cause some people guessed the point of this post and some didnt

the terms afab and amab are already 90% worthless. they are currently terms for a single event in your life. it determines nothing of your anatomy, past or current. if you say "afabs", youre now saying literally nothing. that is a group that has nothing in common besides a letter someone decided to put on your birth certificate at birth for any number of reasons.

this is not even mentioning that these terms were not coined to describe all people. afab and amab were first used by doctors a hella long time ago to describe them surgically "correcting" intersex infants, hence "assigning" them male or female. the intersex community since picked up that language and began to use it to describe their experiences with being forced into a sex role, which has led to it becoming generalized for other people when it is useful for things like avoiding dysphoria. which i do not mind! but knowing the history is kindof important here.

theres not a replacement for these terms as far as "male" and "female" because those things do not truly exist. you can sum up about (spitballing) 95% of the population with those words, and there will always be people who fall into a grey area. as far as biology goes, a trans woman who has gone through vaginoplasty and HRT for years is no longer "biologically male", their health requires they be treated as a "biological female" or important health risks will be missed. the sex binary doesnt exist. if it wasnt already broken at its conception (it was) its sure as hell broke now.

stop using afab and amab to describe huge groups of people. they are to be used by the person themselves if they wish to describe their experiences with how birth assignment has affected their life. if you cant summarize a statement by saying something like "this will be important to people who have breast growth," or "this is for people who did or are expected to go through E-based puberty," or "this is for people who currently have functioning testicles," its not important to generalize at all.

"afabs" "amabs" tbeyre not nouns im going to rxplode and there will be organs and carnage everywhere

[blaire-apricity]

Hello I just wanted to say your a wonderful writer and I really like your fics and I just wanted to request for all the boys if you could some headcanons on how they'd react to a widow reader/MC like it'd interesting to think about a reader that actually was previously in love deeply with someone else and they got married to this person but due to some tragic circumstances this person ended up dying you can choose the cause of death whether it be an accident or sickness or something else entirely like how do you think they'd react to knowing that the reader loved someone else before them ? Like what if the reader is still in grief over there dead partner like they want to start a new relationship but they feel guilty how would they comfort them and such ?

Love Beyond Loss

ʟᴀᴅs ʙᴏʏs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ synopsis┆ : How would the LADS boys react to you still in grief over your previous partner?

ᯓ❅ ┆ tags┆ : head canons, slight angst, comfort & possible OOC

──────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫

Xavier didn’t mind that you’d loved someone before him; what mattered to him was that you were with him now.

What did trouble him, however, was seeing you still consumed by grief for your previous partner.

Each time he caught you gazing off with that same half-lidded, guilty look, his heart ached.

He longed to lift your spirits, to see you smile fully again, radiating like the stars he admired.

During your breakdowns or moments of doubt about your relationship, he was always there, steady and present.

“I’m here for you,” he’d remind you softly, pulling you into his arms. His face would nuzzle into your hair as he breathed in your familiar scent, offering you the comfort you needed.

. . ────────────── ❅ ⁺.

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞

Being a widow didn’t bother Zayne; your past love was a part of you, and that only deepened his understanding of you.

As a doctor, he’d seen the weight of grief many times and knew how overwhelming the process could be.

He never forced physical closeness, respecting your boundaries unless you sought it or he sensed you desperately needed it.

Despite wanting to hold you close, he understood the importance of giving you space to process your emotions.

“Take your time,” he’d murmur gently, his voice soothing as his hand stroked the side of your head with quiet affection.

Zayne never rushed your healing; instead, he patiently offered the time and space you needed to move forward.

. . ────────────── ❅ ⁺.

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

It was selfish of him, but Rafayel couldn’t help feeling a pang of sadness knowing someone else had held your heart before him.

He had waited years—decades—for you, and though he wanted your love entirely, he knew better than to let those feelings cloud his actions.

At first, he struggled with seeing you lost in thought, your gaze far away in a place he couldn’t reach. But when he saw your grief—the tears streaming down your face—it shattered him.

His own selfish desires seemed trivial compared to your pain; he just wanted to ease the sorrow that weighed so heavily on you.

Though you were slowly moving forward, he knew it wasn’t easy. He admired your strength and vowed to support you through it all.

“I’m never leaving you,” he reassured you in a quiet, steady voice. “You’ll always have me.” His words carried the weight of someone who deeply understood the pain of loss.

. . ────────────── ❅ ⁺.

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬

Despite his arrogance, Sylus was surprisingly perceptive and emotionally attuned—especially when it came to you.

You couldn’t hide anything from him: the faint strain in your voice, the forced curve of your smile. He saw through it all, and that’s why you finally opened up to him.

Loving him felt natural, but guilt lingered, knowing a part of your heart still mourned your previous partner’s absence.

Before you even said a word, Sylus already seemed to sense your turmoil. When you poured out your feelings, his response was a soft, knowing chuckle.

“Why are you worried? You’re here with me now, aren’t you?” His words felt dismissive at first, but you soon realized it wasn’t indifference—it was certainty.

Sylus was unwavering in his commitment. He didn’t shy away from your grief or try to compete with your past. He was willing to wait, to love you fully and fiercely, no matter how long it took.

In his own way, he made sure you knew: you had his support, his patience, and his heart.

──────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

╰｡ Author's Note: This took me a while to fulfill- Aaaahhh. I've been spending time with my friends during my free time that I couldn't find much time (and motivation) to write. ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) Also thank you for the compliment! I also found out that you've taken a hiatus, I hope everything goes well over there! (૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭

To anyone that's interested, here's the link to mentioning list. ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

╰｡ Tagging: . ݁˖ . ݁ @slitheringwaves . ݁˖ . ݁ @clairestella

[jellyskink]

(Different Anon here, I hear we're sending in fan fics, feel free to post if you want.)

“Dr. Pines, I was wondering if you can tell me about yourself” Dr. Oleander was leaning against the counter in her office. On the examination table sat a man she's only known for the past months. He was first brought to her with injuries so severe she was amazed that he was still able to move. She was worried for the man and asked him to make follow up appointments at least once a month so she can monitor him. For the most part he was good On his word but there we times he ether cut it close to this appointment time or did both showing up at all.

The next time they would meet he would he would express his deep apologies but his “Muse” didn't see the point to the more frequent doctor visits, after all he hasn't been to a doctor in over 25 after all. He only allowed the first after his “Muse” grew tired of him vomiting blood everywhere, and wasn't able to move after intense abdominal pains, as if they were the man's fault. After the second visit (the follow up to make sure the medication was working) they grew close and bonded over there love of science. And then on the third visit the man gave her a dead mouse as a token of his appreciation. As disturbing as it was it was endearing, and it reminded of her cat, Calamari, if it were any other patient she would be highly concerned for sure, but what little she did know about him she knew it was the only way he knew how to express affection. In short his life was more concerning then the dead animals he gave her. She desperately wanted him to seek mental help for his trama but he adamantly denied it saying nothings wrong and if he did he deserves it and how he should be grateful that his muse is merciful for putting up with his past problems.

She thought long and hard, if she were to help him she would have to get creative and probably break a few HIPAA violations. So after a few more visits to regain his trust she decided it was time. He was the last appointment of the day and asked if he could stay longer she told him it was to help fill in his medical charts and to record data, and promised him a lollipop for his help. These were two things he couldn't resist the promise of scientific research and food.

He looked At her confused with a lollipop pop in his mouth. She asked again, “Dr.Pines? Could you please tell me some more about you.”

To Ford what was originally routine physical Examination and quality time with someone he could trust, was turning well off. His Doctor had already been aware of himself, a man mid 60s he thinks it was hard to keep track of time in the bubble and time flew when he was with his beloved muse. He loved science and had an interest in biology, with a particular interest in lepidoptery (the study of moths.) And more importantly he did everything for his muse. He lives and breathes for the sake of him, he loved him and In return Ford knew he was special to his muse, and that made it all worth it.

“Dr. Pines I know this is difficult but I need this information for your chart.” The doctor continued. “Please start from the beginning, your childhood, if you would be so kind.”

The beginning. He didn't like thinking about any time before he came to his senses with his muse. To him they were the dark times, without the guiding light of his muse how did he even manage to live before his muse.

What was there to say really? He was born to an ex-concrete pourer turned pawn shop owner, and a pathological liar who made a career of being a fake phone psychic. He had 2 brothers, one older and one younger. The Doctor already knew about the younger one Stanley, his twin and the only one he had been in contact with post muse. They lived in a small beach town in Jersey. He was born a freak and was bullied all throughout his adolescent years, for it.

Then there was static. Then the next thing he remembers he was at college. He couldn't remember why he went to Backupsmore but he did and met a man he could call his friend. Fiddleford, he was a genius mechanical engineer, you name it he could build it. He supposed That was the reason Ford called him up one day to help him with a project. Again static.

It was a few years After his graduation he moved to a small town in Oregon. He spent many days hiking the surrounding woods in search of answers to the strange and unusual. One day he found it. From the paintings on a cave wall he found a way to summon a being from another dimension, the beings name was Bill, Stanford’s Muse, the light of his life, his shining star, beacon of hope, his lord and master. He informed Ford that there was a way to bridge his lowly inferior world to that of a gods'. And like the loyal man he was he got to work straight away. He called up friend who was squandering his potential with what he called a computermajig, a waste of time Ford thought.

The beginning stages were wonderful. His Muse, was lead them on the path of greatness, and with the aid of a friend the impossible was possible. That was until it all went…. More static filled the events that transpired on that day. He didn't like thinking about it to begin with. the day he-he… The thought alone brought him great shame to begin with, he hated that he once resisted… only flashes of anger, Betrayal, hurt, pain… an unbelievable amount of pain… he deserved everything second of it, after all he went against His muse. It was a rough 5 years. Most of it was spent chained up, starved, and severely dehydrated. More static. But in the end it was okay, thanks to his muse steering him on the correct path. How foolishly he was. After an eternity alone in a small dark room, his muse finally came and rescued him. He reward Stanford with his first meal in weeks and water life saving water he lovingly put more minerals in for him.(in reality the meal was nothing more then a dead rat and gutter water) He was always looking out for him even when he new he shouldn't have deserved it. But his Muse found it in his heart to forgive him so Stanford did the only thing he could think of to thank the being that saved him. He turned on the portal.

In the years since the activation of the portal. Stanford learned to be the perfect pet for his muse. When he was good he was rewarded with Jellybeans, and good dreams that served as revenge fantasies (take that Crampelter, 6 fingers are better then none, who's the Freak now). Sometimes he slips he doesn't mean too of course how could he intentionally do something that angerd his Muse. His Muse would try and correct the behavior, whether it be withholding food or isolation. Ford couldn't stress this enough it was his fault his Muse did this to him in the first place. He needed To be perfect for him, so he could finally recognize his devotion. So for now he'll sleep on a dog bed, eat the scientist Kibble, and attend the dog shows (which always ended badly and he spent the rest of his night sulking in the back of Dr. Oleander’s car.) He would happily do any of that if his Muse required it. He's fine what would a doctor know about this anyway. No one could understand.

Dr. Oleander was starting to regret this tactic. After she asked her patient a rather personal question, she just watched him stare off into space, his eyes devoid of any life. She tried to speak to him again, but nothing registered. It was 30 minutes of intense silence. The best she could do was work on the much need paperwork until her patient came through. It wasn't much longer after her final bit of paperwork was finished when a small voice apologized, thinking he might have dozed off for a second. She lied to him, saying that it was alright she saw how tired he was, and he deserved the sleep. She gave him his prescription and a few more of her lollipops for the road. The man seemed more interested in the sweets then the life-saving medicine. She led him to the front door and offered him a ride back. He politely denied the request, seeing how the weather was pleasant enough for a walk. She wished him the best and gave Him a date and time for their next appointment and reminded him to floss more as per Dr. Ibis instructions. He smiled politely back at her and continued on his way. Once back in the safety of her office, she took down a notebook and scribbled more notes on her patient. At the end of her notes, she put down one more thought like it was a wish to the universe. “I hope Dr. Pines eventually gets the help he needs.”

Maybe it's for the best he didn't actually say anything...

(Poor bby!!! I love ittttt)

[goddessofroyalty]

hello! the fanart of Viktor with a baby you reblogged this week got me right in the soft feels u.u would you consider revisiting the Work/Life Balance 'verse? (random ideas: pregnant Viktor dealing with a minor illness (very minor, not a complication, no real threat to his health and no threat whatsoever to the baby, but Jayce is still fussing over them)? how a newborn affects Viktor's already hectic work/sleep schedule? either Viktor can't or chooses not to nurse and good papa Jayce does his part with formula and bottles?)

Kind of combined the second two parts of this into what I’ve written but more leaning on good papa Jayce helping feed their baby. Maybe I’ll figure out a quick 4th scene (to even out the POV’s) that focuses a bit more on Viktor’s messy sleeping schedule. Have also made a note of the first prompt as well to do separately.

I’ve given up and am naming this kid Naph as well. Why? Because it’s a nice easy name for me to kidnap and gods knows Arcane played fast and loose with League lore anyway. Also I like it and it has become the default in my brain if nothing else fills the space. It can be easily subbed out if I decide on something different later.

Warnings: past-mpreg, omegaverse (I refer to the baby as pup that’s literally it), some mention of after-birth pains (nothing major just a bit tender)

------------------

Viktor wakes to the sound of a baby crying.

“I’ve got him, don’t get up,” Jayce says as the sleep fades from Viktor’s brain and he remembers that it is their baby that is crying not just some random abstract one. Their baby that Viktor had given birth to days prior and had finally been allowed back home that day. The doctors happy with both their progress.

The bed shifts as Jayce gets up to go to their child. Viktor pushes himself up on his arms to sit up more as he does. Wincing as his weight settles on where he’s still tender from the birth.

“I told you not to get up,” Jayce says holding their son in his arms as he looks back at Viktor. It is a good image and one Viktor could get used to seeing. Will get used to seeing, as surreal as that feels.

“And I have not gotten out of bed.” Nor will he be. Not when he has a perfectly good and willing Jayce to get things for him while he still heals from the birth. To make up for you having done all the work to this point Jayce had said and Viktor had nothing to gain from fighting him on it. “What’s the time?”

“2AM. And you can go back to sleep,” Jayce says. “He just needs a bottle.”

“I’m awake now.” Viktor had never been able to go back to sleep once he woke. There always something he’d rather be spending the time doing than tossing and turning. “I can hold him while you heat up the bottle.”

“The doctors said you need rest,” Jayce says despite it being clear he needs both hands to keep their son settled which would leave none free to prepare a bottle as well.

“I am resting!” Despite how much he misses it he still hasn’t returned to the lab since he was put on bedrest in the final trimester. Working on formulas and schematics from bed can hardly be considered work. It’s just keeping his mind occupied. “Let me hold him.”

Jayce clearly wants to argue but he relents when Viktor raises an eyebrow. Carefully handing their son over and only taking his hands away once the baby is very secure and settled.

Viktor would almost be offended at the lack of trust but he all-too-well understands the impulse. It turns out newborns are tiny and so delicate. It is almost terrifying to think about all the different ways they could accidently hurt him. It is scary to even have him in Viktor’s arms but also nerve-wracking when he is not within easy reach.

“I’ll be right back,” Jayce promises, only taking his eyes off them when he physically leaves the room.

Viktor once again examines his son while he waits. He had hoped their child would have taken a little more after both of them rather than looking mostly like Viktor but it is still impressive to think mere days ago Naph was still growing inside him and now the boy is alive and experiencing the world, frowning up at Viktor as his tongue peaks out between tiny lips, followed by a small cry of impatience.

“Not much longer,” Viktor promises. If his milk had come in the wait wouldn’t have to be this long. But it is useful to know that Jayce can look after their son entirely on his own if needed.

Naph is still far too young to actually understand what Viktor is saying. Another louder cry being made as Jayce hurries back into the room.

“No, no, don’t cry, I got it,” Jayce rambles, sliding into bed beside Viktor, warm bottle in hand. He pauses when Viktor holds their child back out to him. “Uh-“

“You said you were feeding him, no?” Viktor has no problems with doing it as well but Jayce likes to feel useful. And Viktor likes to watch him with their son.

“Right, of course,” Jayce recovers quickly. Carefully taking their son back into his arms, offering him the bottle. It only takes two passes of the teat for the tiny mouth to open to let it pass.

“He is hungry,” Jayce says as their son makes quick work of the bottle.

“I suppose it was a big day for him.” For Viktor and Jayce they came home but all their son knew until the day before was the hospital.

“It was,” Jayce agrees, shifting slightly to allow Viktor to lean in closer and push the fabric from their son’s onesie down from where it had crept up to his mouth. “But we can all rest for now.”

Viktor gives a hum of agreement despite how he already itches to get back to the lab.

-------------------

Jayce wakes to find himself alone in the bed.

It isn’t that unusual. Neither he nor Viktor can be said to have a normal sleeping schedule even before their pup was born. But Jayce still never likes it when he reaches out for his partner only to find cold bedsheets.

He pulls himself out of bed and shuffles to the main living area. There’s no point trying to get back to sleep anyway and he might as well check on Naph to make sure he hasn’t woken in the night.

Viktor had apparently had the same thought whenever he had gotten up. He stands in front of the blackboard they had set up so they can make any changes to their equations even when not in the lab, a piece of chalk balanced in the fingers of the hand resting on his cane as the other holds their son steady where he is swaddled against Viktor’s chest. A slight bounce with every move clearly to keep the pup settled.

“I put coffee on,” Viktor says, not even turning around to acknowledge Jayce. Not that Jayce wants him to – he’s perfectly happy just watching his partner and their child together.

“Thanks.” There’s an almost empty baby bottle next to the coffeepot. It’s cold to the touch so Jayce rinses it out in the sink and puts it to the side to be sanitized with the others. He makes Viktor a cup of coffee as well as his own. “Couldn’t get him to go back to sleep?”

“He doesn’t want to be put down,” Viktor says, looking away from their life’s work to their son. “Clingy. Like his father.”

Jayce can hardly blame his son for that – he wants to cling to Viktor too at times.

“I can take him if you need to write,” Jayce says as he brings Viktor’s coffee over to him. Tapping his partner on the arm with it before placing it down on the table they keep next to the blackboard almost exclusively for coffee. He picks up the old empty one and takes it back to the sink.

“It is fine,” Viktor says with a small shake of his head, his eyes flitting back to the blackboard. “I have nothing new to add to it anyway.”

Jayce would suggest Viktor go back to bed then but he knows his partner would have as much a chance of going back to sleep as he would.

Instead he joins Viktor at the blackboard. Close enough that Viktor can shuffle over and lean against him while they both try and figures out how the equations fit together and wait for the morning sun.

------------------

“Jayce!” Viktor calls because he is in the middle of wiring up the controls for the latest iteration of Hexgates and their son is crying. Jayce is just doing some paperwork, necessary, yes, but nowhere near as dangerous to be walked away from in the middle of.

“Huh?” Jayce asks as he sticks his head into the room before realizing why he was called. “Right. On it.”

“Up we go,” Jayce says as he picks their son up from the cot they keep in the lab for him to sleep in while they work. Out of the corner of his eye Viktor watches his partner hold their son high to sniff at his backside. “Nope. Must be hungry.”

Viktor returns his attention back fully to his work as Jayce carries their son into the kitchenette of the lab to heat up a bottle for him. He’s still at it when he two return, their son still in Jayce’s arms as he comes to watch over Viktor’s shoulder.

“How are you going?”

“Nearly finished.” The wiring had nearly taken him all day but it should be worth it.

“And then we can test it?” Jayce asks despite the fact he should already know the answer.

“Yes. They should lead to a less, uh, jolty experience when the jump is made.”

Jayce doesn’t respond, but Viktor can hear him pace around the lab no doubt bouncing their child in his arms as he does to keep the boy settled and not distracting Viktor’s work.

Viktor doesn’t alert his partner to the fact once he finishes. Instead watching the two of them for the minute it takes Jayce to notice himself. He had been told by many how lucky he was to have Jayce as the father of his child and, really, he cannot argue it.

[d3athmaskd1v1n3]

Have you seen Arkham Shadow? I would please like some general yan hc's about that particular Jonathan Crane, but gen Arkhamverse is fine too :) I love old men 😳

General Yandere Jonathan Crane headcanons

This man is so sinister and evil so I am going to have a fucking blast coming up with crazy shit. Thank you, anon! (TW: general yandere bullshit, inappropriate patient/doctor dynamics, gaslighting, some more suggestive headcanons as well. Minors please scroll past and DNI.)

You just know he is going to psychoanalyze you. He's going to ask about everything that can allow him to map out your psyche. I hope you like to talk about your childhood because he's asking about that a lot!

He'll also try to become your therapist. Do you already have a therapist? Oh, well, would you look at that! Looks like something bad has happened to them and they have to retire. Good thing Crane is willing to help you for free!

If your treatment is going well, he will not hesitate to gaslight you into thinking you're still mentally unwell and that you still need him. He may even intentionally make you worse so you'll depend on him more.

If he deems anyone a threat, he'll make sure to drive them insane, as well. Just slip some chemicals and fear toxin into their food and they'll go mad in no time!

He will call you "dear" and "dearest." Sometimes he'll call you his "dearest (Y/N)."

He's surprisingly affectionate. He's going to wrap his lanky body around you anytime he gets the opportunity.

Jonathan will kiss your neck just to get a reaction out of you. He won't even seem too fazed by it, either. He'll just act like he's unaware of how it affects you.

He generally enjoys observing how you react to things, even mundane things. Again, he is obsessed with understanding you on a deeper psychological level so he takes note of everything.

Over all, he just wants to be the one to know everything about you. He wants to be the one who is responsible for you, and the one who can control your life.

[starlightseraph]

simm!master is so funny because he’s an absolute menace and a bit genocidal but then he has a round face.

insane + round face = goofy little guy

[alinedreams]

Once I've learned about diagnostic bias, I got really darn angry because that was one of the reasons for most of my suffering.

Is autism more prevalent in AMAB because of a greater genetic propensity, or is it better diagnosed in AMAB because the belief of autism being more prevalent in AMAB makes many professionals ignore or downright refuse to diagnose AFAB unless there's an intellectual deficit, thus leading to a statistical bias confirmation?

Is autism more prevalent in white, middle class and above kids because autism is correlated to race and financial success, or is it more prevalent in those kids because poor and black kids are less likely to be diagnosed due to diagnostic bias making doctors ignore symptoms in Black kids and hike up prices because "well, it's less common in poorer kids, so, there's no reason for diagnosis to be cheap", difficulting the access to proper diagnosis to those who can't pay?

Autism is just one example among many, but do you understand my train of thought? Just how many people had to suffer or even die because of diagnostic biases? How many had to be dismissed, ignored and mismedicated (or even self-medicated) because of outdated statistics and scientific approaches? Just how many were victims of, may I dare to call it that way, MEDICAL FREAKING SUPERSTITION?

[quietwingsinthesky]

no wonder missy is insane about him. she just mindmeld trauma bonded with him and got confirmation through him that she was right the whole time about the thing that happened to her, AND then they traded life-saving moments. of course she wants her friend back. she needs him to see her again, as clearly as he did in that moment. she needs him to be like her, because among time lords, she is alone, but with the doctor, she isn’t.

[vryivs]

I always forget that monarchists exist and then I see someone with the username duchessofmyheartforever or williamisababe posting about how it's mean to giggle at an ultrarich economic leech experiencing just a fraction of struggle and inconvenience (because lets be honest, he probably wont kick the bucket—his doctors are paid to keep his corpse animated long after it ceases to be humane)

[eclaire-went-bam]

scrolling thru narc abuse truthers blogs is so fucking funny bCS DO YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT THIS TERM EVEN MEANS ???❓❓❓❓❓❓

HELLO 😭😭😭😭 DELUSIONS PF GRANDEUR????

delusions of grandeur are ALSO present in mental illnesses like SCHIZOPHRENIA and BIPOLAR DISORDER. PSYCHOTIC DISORDERS !!! me when i claim i've experienced schizophrenic abuse

also idk y'all i also have psychosis and i think i can say pretty confidently that when i'm experiencing genuine DELUSIONS of grandeur, i don't care as much of maintaining my image because yes i do genuinely believe i'm an incarnate of god so why would i need other people's opinion???

me when i tell someone experiencing psychosis that their symptoms (grandiose delusions) are NOTHING compared to ✨my✨ experiences

[hungerpunch]

i see even comedy that doesn't typically "punch down" has circled back around to using crackhead/crackwhore as a joke. i'm so exhausted by you all. you are so cruel, so casually callous, it's worrisome. you don't realize how easily that could be you. you think you're so superior, so pure, so intelligent as if addiction cares about how smart you are or what you do in life. as if this entire country (usamerica) is not machinated in a way to get people hooked on painkillers. as if the docuseries industry isn't busting with expositions that reveal the wide-ranging sprawl of addiction here and exactly how manipulated we have been. as if loads of people in "white collar" jobs aren't addicts. as if loads of stay at home parents aren't addicts. as if addicts can't have pearly smiles and collect a paycheck. as if there's any real merit between the person who got into a party drug as an impressionable kid then couldn't stop and the lawyer who started doing coke to stay awake for 80-hour workweeks then couldn't stop and the unsuspecting patient who was prescribed opioids by a doctor then couldn't stop. there's not. no one is better than anyone else. addiction is leveling. equalizing.

and the worst part is you are one, too, you up there on your high horse. you're addicted to something. something in this world has its claws in you, its grip on you, that you want to stop but can't, that you could not stop without support. so shut up. shut the fuck up. the people you call crackwhores, meth heads, junkies, etc. they are real fucking people. we are real fucking people just like you. we are real people who deserve your fucking respect and compassion. we are just people who are trying to exist within a system that is trying to eat us alive, just like the rest of you. it's not cute. it's not fucking cute. it's not cool. stop fucking laughing.

[pixlmonkeys]

its been like 4 months since I’ve been able to get a full nights sleep im sooooo fine

[13eyond13]

Sometimes I still think about how sweet it was when that anon checked on me last year when I was posting overly dark jokes. Thank you whoever you were, that was kind

[psy-ay-ay]

every time i look up any gynecological research i wanna start murdering people

[tkbrokkoli]

apparently last year i was diagnosed w an autoimmune disorder and my doctor just kinda failed to explain this to me and today another doctor mentioned it to me and i was like. ????? i have a chronic illness???? an immune disorder??????? then i read abt the symptoms and it explains like 80 % of stuff that's been going on w me for years and i was like 🙃

[windfighter]

The Curse

Prompt: Broken Bone

-----

Kouichi stared at the ceiling. He could hear people shouting, their voices far away and muddled in his brain. He was on his back, which was weird given that he had just been walking up the stairs. He didn’t try to sit up. His head was spinning. Was he dying again?

Kouji’s face hovered above Kouichi and he blinked. Kouji let out a relieved sigh and sank to the floor next to Kouichi. Kouichi blinked again, turned his head to the side. His head pounded and he closed his eyes with a wince.

”Where does it hurt?” Kouji asked.

Kouichi wasn’t sure if ’everywhere’ covered it. Or if Kouji was asking about some special kind of hurt. He opened his eyes again, tried to get them to focus on Kouji. Kouji bit his lip.

”I think you have a concussion.”

Probably. Kouichi let his eyes close again.

”You stepped on a dog-toy”, Kouji explained.

Kouichi nodded. He didn’t remember asking, but now he knew.

”Hate… stairs…” he mumbled.

Kouji snickered.

”Dad’s calling an ambulance.”

An ambulance felt excessive, Kouichi thought, but he did die from a stair once so fair. His head was starting to feel less muddy, but instead he could feel pain dance across his body. He winced, tried to move. One of his arms was stuck under his back. Pain shot up from it and Kouichi let out a cry. Kouji put a hand on Kouichi’s shoulder to get him to stop moving.

”Please don’t hurt yourself more.”

Kouichi would like to hurt himself less if he was honest. He tried closing his eyes more, but it didn’t really work.

”They’ll be here soon”, Kousei said. ”How’s he doing?”

”He’s pretty out of it”, Kouji answered.

Kouichi should probably feel offended that they talked around him instead of with him, but… he was grateful he didn’t have to try to talk. Kouji gave his shoulder a squeeze and someone placed a blanket over him.

”Try not to fall asleep”, Satomi warned him.

Kouichi wanted to obey, but… after being asked he felt so very tired and he couldn’t understand why he should stay awake. Sleeping meant he didn’t have to feel all the pain. He nodded and promptly fell asleep.

-------

Kouichi wished he had been slightly more out of it. He woke up when the ambulance arrived and had to suffer through them checking him over and splinting his arm. He fell asleep again in the ambulance and woke up when they lifted him out of it. He fell in and out of sleep while they waited for a doctor and was forced to stay awake when the doctor checked him over.

His head hurt so much he almost wished he had died again instead.

The X-ray showed three breaks in his arm and Kouji looked so guilty Kouichi laughed. It sent a spike of pain through his body and he felt his eyes tearing up. Kouji was instantly at his side.

”I’m gonna go to sleep”, Kouichi decided.

”Please stop fainting”, Kouji begged.

Kouichi ignored it and went out again.

------

Kouichi was a bit less out of it the next day. Kouji and Tomoko was sitting in the uncomfortable hospital-chairs next to his bed, while Kousei and Satomi seemed to have disappeared. Maybe they went home when Tomoko arrived.

Kouichi moved to sit up and Kouji’s eyes shot open and glued Kouichi to the bed.

”Mama’s sleeping”, Kouji whispered.

He handed Kouichi the remote to the bed and Kouichi raised the headend. His head spun.

”Are you feeling better?” Kouji asked.

Kouichi could barely remember how he had felt the previous day. Kouji’s eyes were filled with worry and Kouichi knew that as the big brother he needed to do something about that.

”Yeah?” he tried. ”I’m fine.”

”You’re not fine”, Kouji said and pulled a hand across his face. ”Are you going to let me and mama help you while you recover or do I need to force you to accept the help?”

Kouichi closed his eyes. That was a few too many words for his pounding head.

”I’m not you”, he mumbled and yawned.

Kouji snorted.

”Yeah, okay, I deserve that”, Kouji said and pulled Kouichi’s blanket up. ”Get some rest, we’ll be here when you wake up.”

Kouichi took that to mean he had managed to make Kouji less worried. He nodded and fell back to sleep.