#i’ve been told by three psychiatrists

[miyamiwu]

Last updated: Aug. 8, 09:30pm GMT+8

I first posted about this 2 days ago, but only now did I have the time to sort out how much I exactly need and… it’s a lot

Dorm rent: 1,624 PHP (~29 USD)

Laptop credit bill: 4,000 PHP (~70 USD)

Consultation fee on different psychiatrist: P1,500 (26 USD) 3,000 PHP (~52 USD)

College tuition: 5,000-7,500 PHP (86-130 USD)

Passport: 1,200 PHP (~21 USD)

Total: 13,000-16,000 PHP (225-280 USD) 14,824 - 17,324 PHP (258 - 300 USD)

But the college tuition one is just a rough estimate! Enrollment is still ongoing, so I don’t know yet exactly how much I have to pay for.

If you have any spare cash, please consider helping me out by donating to my Ko-fi:

Or, you can also avail of my alpha reading service on my Ko-fi commissions page. It’s only $5 right now!

Breakdown and explanation of the amounts under the cut

In the post linked above, I mentioned struggling on the June-July dorm payment, but that’s okay now. My mom was able to find a way, but now I have another problem and that’s the August payment and the December deposit. It will be the start of a new semester, and as always, I have to pay for the first month and the last month of the semester upfront. That would be P1,624 (~$29).

I really don’t want to also ask my mom for this, as my youngest sibling just told us in the sibling group chat that she’s been having suicidal thoughts (everyone in this family has mental health issues 😔). And apparently, she also just had an argument with her boyfriend (I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend…)

With that, I will also need P4,000 (~$70), to pay for my laptop’s monthly dues. My mom bought it on credit and she has to pay for it monthly… but seeing as how she’s already depressed over her multitude of debts, I really couldn’t bring myself to burden her with this as well.

Then yesterday, I started my sessions with a new therapist, and she’s telling me to get a second opinion on ADHD.

Remember how a few months back I went to see a psychiatrist? Well, that doctor turned out to be a traumatic experience. She gaslighted me, then denied me having ADHD on the basis of my mom saying that I was a “quiet child who kept to herself.”

Current therapist asked me if I have been considered for ADHD/OCD before, and when I brought up the previous diagnosis, she was unconvinced coz she thinks I may have the inattentive type of ADHD. Now, she’s referring me to a psychiatrist she knows that specializes in my case, but the consultation won’t be free.

Update: I initially thought she’d refer me to someone from the Philippine Mental Health Association (PMHA), where the consultation fee is only P1,500 ($26) since that’s what she mentioned during our session and the PMHA is also on our uni’s list of recommended mental health services. But earlier, she emailed me the three doctors she recommends, and all of them turned out to be from private hospitals/clinics with fees of around P3,000 (~$52) per session… which is twice the amount charged by the PMHA

Next, my college tuition.

I go to a state university, and in my country, tuition should be free for up to 5 years in my course. But due to mental health issues, I’ve had to retake several classes because I could never complete them on time. I also took a leave twice so uhh… I’ve used up my free tuition rights and now have to pay.

I don’t know the exact amount yet, as we are charged by the number of units we are enrolled for… and well, enrollment is still ongoing, and I’m not guaranteed any units as slots are extremely limited. But going from previous receipts, it should be around P25,000 (~S434).

I’m not gonna ask for help on that full amount, though! Because, god, it really is too much. I plan to apply for tuition loan in my uni, and apparently I can get up to 70-80% discount once approved, so after deduction, I’ll only have to pay P5,000-7,500 ($86-130)

Lastly, the passport. I really need to apply for a passport already. I posted about my valid ID woes a while back, but I really can’t find the post again, but long story short, I don’t have a single, valid government ID at the moment, and it’s hindering my access to a lot of services.

I used to have a postal ID, but it expired last year and I can’t renew it because postal ID issuance has been suspended throughout the country for maintenance.

I also applied for a national ID last year, but until now I still haven’t received it. That’s just how fucking inefficient my country is.

The one ID left that’s easy to apply for without a pre-existing valid ID is the passport, so yeah, I really have no choice but to apply for it now. The regular passport fee is 950 PHP, but I listed the price for the expedited one because I need it urgently. That would be P1,200 (~$21).

I need a valid ID to open an account at this one bank that my uni requires for all those aspiring to be student assistants. And in the case my uni scholarship application gets approved, I will also need the account to receive any stipend I may get as they only do it via that bank.

I will also be needing the account to encash stipend cheques I get from a government-funded scholarship (they still haven’t given me my stipend for the previous semester, though). The bank teller has already been lenient with me three times in the past by allowing me to use an expired ID along with my student ID, the latter which they don’t even accept. I really can’t bear to do it again.

Aside these, I will definitely be needing a valid ID and a bank account should I get accepted in any of the jobs I’m applying for… so yeah, I really need the ID 😭

No pressure at all, but if you have a little extra cash, I would be eternally grateful if you donate

USD to PHP conversion is high, so a little goes a long way for me

[crimimnal-mineds-part2]

Reid: I need a new psychiatrist

Hotch: again?

Reid: yeah, she said that she didn’t think I was going to make it.

Hotch:

Reid: I’m inclined to agree with her, but I feel like even if you don’t believe that you’re going to make it, your mental health team should?

Reid: it’s not like I’m new to this happening, I’ve actually been told by three psychiatrist and four therapists that they don’t think that I’m going to make it

Reid: but I’d like to find a therapist or psychiatrist who believes in me one day

Hotch:

Garcia:

Rossi:

Morgan:

Jj:

Emily:

[leechanpremacy]

People You Know

After the death of his wife, he starts a whole new life in a whole new city with his three year old twins only to meet someone from his past. What a way to start something new, right?

pairings: psychiatrist!jeonghan, parent!jeonghan x doctor!reader petowner!reader

tags: fluff, crack, slow burn, exes to lovers, romance, angst (if you think into it really deeply), swearings

word count:

notes: i’ve been dreading to write jeonghan as a parent of twins, now having the motivation and inspiration to write the plot, IM ON CLOUD NINE!!! lmao i’m also planning on posting this as an au on twitter if time, and motivation persists as my alter ego’s such a lazy ass bitch that takes at least half a month to find motivation to do updates on on-going twitter series’ THIS might also be turned in to a series (fuck, my mingyu series long forgotten 💀)

prologue | masterlist | two

Yoon Jeonghan was a person whom you can't forget. You let yourself relish his new appearance. Long gone was the long slick hair he sported back in college. His short haircut with his bang fringes poking his eyes made him look somewhat younger. His cheeks are more defined than you can remember, and his bright doe eyes that were healthy before now have bags underneath, finally noticing the mole you adorned long ago.

It seems that he did the same, as his lips narrowed open, shock still painted on his face as his eyes traveled around your face. The only thing that woke you two up from your daydream was, "Dada!" Two of the kids ran towards Jeonghan to hug him by his legs.

Stumbling a bit from the impact, his eyes lingered a bit longer from you before turning his attention to the two children, crouching down to hug them and mumble a few words.

Blinking a few more times, let it sink in that the two children that ran towards you and your dog were, Jeonghan's children. A small smile formed on your lips, "You're a dad now, huh?" You softly said, still wearing the small smile as you locked eyes with him again.

"They're twins, Yuna and Yejun. They're turning four this year." He replies, standing up again whilst holding both on his sides. Your eyes then drifted to the two, taking a closer look. Knowing that these were his children, you were suddenly intrigued to see who they took after.

You were guessing that you were staring at the twins a bit longer than you intended as you heard Jeonghan introduce you as one of their aunts. "Hi! You guys still want to touch her?" Pointing to your dog, piquing their attention again. You saw both of them look up to Jeonghan, asking for permission before running towards your crouching figure to pet your dog, Manju.

You still held your dog by its snout, letting the children pet his body. "Is that..?" You could tone of hesitance in his voice. Without meeting his eyes, "It's her daughter, she passed a year ago." Whilst shaking your head, quickly patting Manju's head making it lean to your hand, wanting more.

"Oh," You watched the two children giggling to themselves as they kept on patting your dog's body which Manju enjoys, noticing the rapid wag of her tail with each stroke that the twins make.

"She looks just like her," Jeonghan mumbles, making you slightly jolt from your position as you didn't notice him crouching down next to you to pat Manju's head.

"She acts like her too. Not that much of a people pleaser dog." You joked, hearing him chuckle again after how many years. "Then I guess Michi must've told her about me then." He softly says, making you look at him.

Michi, - your current dog, Manju's, mother - you and Jeonghan's lovebug. Just the mention of your passed dod makes your heart swell and Jeonahan's presence makes it a lot worse. You felt tears building up in your eyes, causing you to break free from Jeonghan's eyes.

You still weren't over grieving from the loss of your best friend. She was the only one who stayed with you from that dreadful college years up to your med school. She stayed longer than anyone could have, and that's why you weren't done grieving even if she was already gone for a year. "Dada," One called, capturing both of your attention.

It's somehow sweet that someone you knew is now being called like that. So sweet and soft, enough to you feel blue. How would it feel to be called by your child? You thought.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I have to go. I still have some stuff to unpack. We just moved here in the city." Is Jeonghan effortlessly picking up both his kids, "Moved? Here?" You asked, quite shocked at the news. As far as you remember, he moved to a larger city to pursue law. Was he retired?

"Yeah," Sporting a smile that you remembered like the back of your hand, "See you around?" He adds, walking away from you.

You suddenly felt a wave of emotions rushing through your body. You didn't even have the chance to bid him goodbye as you were too busy relishing the smile he wore before he walked away.

It must be the nostalgia, making you feel emotions you thought were long gone. Seeing him again after a few years, with his own little family made you happy. Finally seeing him smile again after you broke his heart when you walked away from him that night.

“I’m telling you Seungcheol, I didn’t know she lived here!” Jeonghan dramatically says through the phone as he folded their clean clothes to store it in their closet.

“I’m not even saying anything! It’s you who’s overreacting, not me!” Rolling his eyes, “Oh you fucker, don’t get me started with your scoffs and stifled laughs!” Sighing, Jeonghan was left hopeless upon hearing his friend’s laughter echo through the room.

“Can you shut the fuck up? My children are asleep.” Jeonghan had his lips curved into an annoyed smirk, “I can see you glaring from here ya’ know?”

“On the brighter side, isn’t it nice to have a familiar face in an unfamiliar environment? Plus, you could ask Y/N to babysit the twins on October,” Seungcheol finally calmed down, giving Jeonghan a few grounded words.

“I think you don’t get the whole concept of ‘let’s not see each other again’ here, Choi Seungcheol.” He could hear his friend groaning on the full name, “Dumbass! She meant it to be - not being in a relationship! Not - literally not! Seeing! Each other! So much for topping the boards,” Jeonghan heard the last part but paid no attention. He knows that too. That you didn’t mean it to literally not see each other’s face. But at that time, he had no face to meet you even if you were the one who called it off. Too hurt to even see you from afar. Too bruised to even hear from you.

“I also don’t think were in a relationship where I can just ask her to babysit my twins because unfortunately, my first day of work is on my birthday!” Jeonghan can imagine Seungcheol shaking his head at him. “I also don’t have her number.” There was a long stretch of silence before he could hear Seungcheol’s sigh.

“Y/N, she didn’t changed her number. I’m sure you still have it.” Having his breath hitched, he stopped functioning for a while, “Don’t be such a sussy Han, it’s all in the past. Besides, you got married. All your unresolved feelings for Y/N should either be gone or just waiting to be answered.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Sweat running down your forehead as you reached your kitchen’s counter top, almost flopping yourself just to reach the fridge. Not even minding to get a glass to pour water on. You don’t know why embarrassment is only hitting you now. How embarrassing on acting so casual with someone you left in the dark, as if you didn’t leave him hanging during your third year on college.

Wiping your lips that had excess water dripping down to your chin, you had your gaze hardened on the wall. How can he possibly talk to you when he avoided you at all cost after the breakup? Even hearing from his friends that he would always change the topic when it somehow swerved to you.

Just then, you heard your phone ding, immediately checking just in case it was a text from the hospital.

Heaving a sigh, you quickly typed in ‘otw’, scurrying away to your room to fix yourself before going back to the hospital.

“Doc, we’ve already calmed him down. His vitals are slowly coming back to normal.” The nurse informed you as you briskly walked towards the said patient’s warden. You just nodded in acknowledgment, slowly forgetting the incident earlier.

Being an general doctor was a pain, especially if most of your current patients are alcoholic. No matter how many nags and warnings you told them, they just don’t listen. Now, one of your patients who recently received a liver from his daughter went on a drinking spree. Now that his his newly transplanted liver almost gave up, you can feel stress working up its way to your head - almost giving you migraine like headaches just by the thoughtless behavior the old man lying on the bed portrayed.

The door swings open, gaining your attention, you then saw the wife and their daughter and you can’t help but feel bad for them. They just paid hundred thousands just to pay the hospital bills from the surgery and now, their patriarch had a surge of major side effects from the alcohol content he consumed.

“He consumed too much alcohol, that the liver almost gave up since it was still adjusting with his body. Good thing he was brought here immediately. He’s already stable. He needs to be monitored for a span of two weeks at least, just to make sure his liver won’t act out again.” You explained sternly to the family who only nodded and kept thanking you for saving the man again.

Heaving a big sigh as you closed the door to the room, you held your head, trying to rub the pain out. “Did you even sleep?” A familiar voice chirped beside you, “What do you think?” You said sarcastically before making your way to the headquarters.

“Judging by the way you tried to rub your temples and your mean attitude, you didn’t even sleep a wink with your uhm,” You could hear him counting in a small voice, “Three hours free time.” Halting, you quickly turned to him, making his squinted eyes go round.

“Did you know Jeonghan had kids?” You genuinely asks. The latter furrowed his brows, searching any other reaction from you. “Yeah..” Still trying to see if you’d react in any way other than relief washing down your face.

“Glad he found someone that’ll take care of him.” You said with a smile. You were about to turn when you halted from his words, “You.. Did you not know?” Confusion then etched both your faces.

“Know what, Hoshi?” He pursed his lips, contemplating whether to tell you or not, “What ‘cha guys doin’?” Dino’s voice erupted from your back. Dino noticed Hoshi’s panicking gaze but you didn’t remove your eyes on the latter.

You felt Dino’s presence beside you but you paid no attention to him, “Hoshi, what is it?” You asked again, more curious and fraught on his answer.

“What is what?” Dino joined causing you to whip his head to him. “What do you know about Jeonghan?” You asked him, catching him off-guard.

“I just know he moved here in the city, and he’s planning to start working here on October.” Furrowing your brows more, “What’s this about? Why’re you suddenly asking things about him?” You were too lost in your thoughts to answer him.

Didn’t he want to pursue law? Why would he work here at the hospital? Or will he work here as a legal guidance? Legal advisor? Didn’t he go to larger city so he could expand his connections?

Dino was now frowning at you, looking towards Hoshi with a questioning look. The latter shrugged and shook his head, also unaware of her sudden interest towards Jeonghan.

You raised you head again, now looking to Dino who had his one brow raised, already knowing what you’re going to ask, “You didn’t asked. And we thought you wouldn’t like to hear any news from him. Be it good or bad.”

“Yeah. Totally learned my lesson that one time.” Hoshi added. You frowned at your two friends - who was unfortunately, friends with Jeonghan also.

You and Jeonghan weren’t in the same circle before, it just happened that your friends and his friends clicked that much for it to become one. You still were in contact with some of his friends, but you took courtesy of not asking things about him and they respected that by not sharing anything too, without you asking.

“I met him earlier at the park. Also met his twins. He casually talked to me, and it made me feel anxious. He wasn’t like that when I last heard from him, wasn’t he angry anymore?” You ranted, lying on the bed as you munched your caramelized popcorn.

“Maybe? It’s been like what? Seven years? It must’ve dried out during those past years.” Closing his book before turning to face your lying body on the bunk bed. “Besides Y/N, why are you so worried about him working here? Do you not want him to be here that much?”

“No, its not that. It’s just, Wonwoo, I inflicted pain, he should be angry!” You kept refuting the same thing over and over again.

“Y/N, if there’s anything that he’ll feel about you, anger is far from it. He’s healed from the pain, he learned and he moved on. I’m sure his wife took care of him well. Isn’t that what you want? Someone to take good care of him?” You halted from Wonwoo’s words. You couldn’t help but look at the bed above you, letting out a smile as you imagined Jeonghan being taken care of well.

As soon as you felt tears suddenly welling up on your eyes, you did your best to refrain them from pouring out. “Yeah, I did.” It was so soft, Wonwoo would’ve missed it if there was other noises aside from the aircon’s ringing. “Did you attend his wedding?” You asked, with a softer voice.

Wonwoo was taken aback by the sudden change of demeanor, “..No, I couldn’t. It was during our OB-residency.” He could see you quietly nod and the red tip of your nose. He could sense immense emotions from you, but he kept quiet about it. He knows its something you don’t ever want to talk about. Most likely, you will never talk about it to them, finally knowing Jeonghan had marry already.

a/n: being this active on writing is kinda worrying me lol i think if i did another chapter, it’d probably be posted in the next two months 😬

[analogpantheon]

Hello uh,

I have a very important question,

Is it normal for a psychologist to only give you one survey on dissociative experiences to try and diagnose all of your symptoms?

All the rest of the testing that occurred was for functioning.

That test was months ago, maybe three months ago by now.

I just got the results about 2 hours ago and my head is still spinning over the idea that she told me that I had NOTHING dissociative at all because I was “really aware” of everyone in the system.

Even my psychiatrist was confused, while we were waiting for the results to come in, about how my psychologist didn’t do ANY interviews or further testing with what I was dealing with, she wasn’t even fully aware of all of our alters!!

I really need some sort of opinion on this because my head’s beginning to hurt and I’ve been been vigorously trying to make sense and process this but the diagnosis I’ve gotten just gives me more questions than answers.

[disillusioneddanny]

Eloped in Space Part 6

Read part 5 here 

The days after Danny had moved into the manor had been strange to say the least. Dick couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that the man who had become like a father to him had turned into some love drunk dork. 

They were still slightly in their puppy love stage but Danny had managed to keep Bruce’s hands off of him long enough for Danny to decide that he was going to bond with each one of Bruce’s kids. He had apparently decided that the first one to do this was with Dick. Danny and Bruce had been back on Earth for about a month now as Danny settled into living in the manor and getting used to how everything ran. According to Damian, Duke, and Tim it was an interesting adjustment but they all seemed to enjoy having the man there.

“So,” Danny said, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. They were currently at some random diner in Bludhaven, Danny insisting that he could come to Dick to see him. Something about making a point to make an effort in this familial relationship. He rested his elbows on the table and stared at Dick with those blue eyes that looked as though they had seen their fair share of trauma in the world and refused to let it get him down. “Tell me about your relationship with Bruce. Is he good to you? He’s not shitty or anything? You get plenty of love and affection from him?”

“Uh…no?” Dick said slowly, furrowing his brows. “Bruce is the most emotionally constipated person I know. I think you’re the only person I’ve ever seen him act like that with anyone before.”

Danny made a face and nodded. “I see. Well, just so you know, Bruce will be starting therapy next week. He will be going three times a week until his therapist decides he can go less. He’s also going to be starting some medicine to help with his depression,” Danny said with a small smile, tiredness shone in his eyes. 

“H-how did you get him to agree to that?” Dick asked, eyes wide in shock. Bruce? In therapy? What the actual fuck? What had Danny done to the man?

The Ghost King simply shrugged his shoulders. “My sister was a psychiatrist and took mental health very seriously. I myself see a therapist twice a month. It’s nice to have someone to talk to about all of the craziness that can happen in the world and in our existences. I told Bruce that if he wanted this relationship between the two of us to work he would need to be in some form of therapy. Then last week he met my sister and Jazz basically made him agree to meeting with her three times a week.”

“Wait, your sister? I thought you were like some immortal being, I didn’t realize you had a living family?” Dick asked, looking at the man who had declared himself his stepfather in confusion.

Danny grinned. “Yeah, Jazz died like two hundred years ago or something like that. She’s a ghost in my realm. Our parents both moved on, as did my friends that I grew up with. But Jazz decided that she had to be a pain in my life for eternity. Like I said, when she was alive she was a psychiatrist. And she’s insisting that she works with Bruce to make sure she’s okay.”

“Isn’t it like a breach of trust or something since she’s your sister?” Dick questioned, taking a sip of his soda. 

At this his stepfather’s face fell in annoyance. “Trust me, Jazz is a pain in the ass. She would never break Bruce’s trust and if anything she’ll just tell him anything he wants to know about my childhood or something. But, he’s going to be getting therapy and Jazz is going to start working on that emotional constipation ASAP.”

Dick smiled at the man. “Danny, you’re an amazing step dad. I can’t believe you got Bruce into therapy. Alfred has been trying to convince him since the guy was eight and nothing worked.”

Danny gave him a rueful smile and took a bite of his burger. “I love Bruce a lot, Dick. I’m going to make sure he’s taken care of, whether he likes it or not. I have been around for a very long time, Bruce is the first person I’ve ever loved like this. And because of that, I’m going to make sure he’s okay and isn’t hurting. Under that emotional constipation is a man who loves his family more than anything in this world. The entire time we were on that mission together, all he could talk about was how proud of you guys he was and how much he loved you all. It was very sweet.”

“How’d you do it? How’d you get past it?” Dick asked, looking at the man like he was his own personal hero. At this point he pretty much was. 

Danny just gave him a secretive smile, eyes shining. “I have my ways to get under people’s skin. I can also read people pretty well and knew just which buttons to push. It also didn’t help that from the moment I met Bruce he just looked at me like he either wanted to fuck me or whisk me away to protect me forever. He also had this look like he wanted to learn all of my secrets which was pretty fun. But we just got to know each other on that mission and the more I opened up about my life and after life the more he was willing to do the same.”

Dick took a bite of his own burger and smiled as he mulled over it. If Danny was able to successfully get Bruce in therapy to work on his problems and get the man to open up more, Dick would probably lose his ever loving mind. He couldn’t believe the changes he was seeing in Bruce but he was excited to see how it would go. 

“I think you’re going to be really good for him, Danny,” Dick said with a small smile. 

Danny beamed at him. “I think he’s going to be really good for me too,” he said quietly.

Read part seven here

@mynameisnotlaura @neverlandingbird @angelheartgamer @connorsbonez @quietlyscared  @kgne-k @namichanth @magificence12  @alinmenttreasure  @phantomskeep @themirrorghost @dragonmoon2995 @numbuh-7-knd @blacksea21090 @blankliferain @avenInfear @rentatsunagi @bytheoldwillowtree @michikoy-yuki @aro-acedumbass @legowerewolf @justwannaseesomebrozawa @starscreamlover @undead-essence @skulld3mort-1fan @random-shit-writing @yinari-uchiha @dragongoblet @lesling123 @ascetic-orange @pastalavistamf @illusionwolfwriter24r8 @drowningroane @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @daemonlogical @jogjosmowwdkfs @markus209 @fox-sama97 @that-one-goblin @immakittybear @the-legal-shipper @blackstar-gazer @spoopyspoony @mj-arts-n-stuff @cloudminder @ serasvictoria02 @thegatorsgoose @ mnemovoid

[bitchboynasty]

The evil ghoul bitch at the plasma center I decided to go with said she would have to ask me some additional questions to make sure I was “of sound mind” bc something “flagged” in her system (my previous visit to this establishment in 2018, when they noticed the medications in my blood stream I was taking under supervision of a psychiatrist) and she had to ask some “routine follow up questions”. Sometimes she’d ask me a question, I’d start to answer and she’d interrupt me to ask a new question or an old question that I think she thought I was lying about. At one point I tried to finish answering the original question and she said “I don’t need to know that right now.” After she asked me!!!! Floored. Absolutely yanked the rug from underneath me. I was blind sided. I have never ever been disrespected like that by a medical professional and I’ve been hospitalized THREE times in psychiatric holds.

I walk into her tiny cubicle shithole office and she said “well. Let’s see what YOU are” and she meant my biological sex.

She asked me when I was last hospitalized and I said “2022.”

She said “the date.” Like day month year. I said gosh I don’t know. She said “call the hospital then. Now.” When the hospital didn’t answer (WHY WOULD THEY??? ITS 3PM ON A FRIDAY) she would ask me 4 more times when I was in the hospital last.

She told me at the end that she’d need to fax my psychiatrist to make sure I was a stable enough person by HIS account to donate plasma. When I said “well it’s 3pm on a Friday” she said “oh you won’t get to donate this week. That’s for sure.”

I have never felt so small in a persons office in my life.

[vae0o]

had my 6 month check up with my psychiatrist and he told me i’ve been officially diagnosed w bpd for over three years, and in his words “no one had the balls to tell you i guess”

[madlittlecriminal]

Finally new Murphy Scarecrow content!!! HCs for how Scarecrow would react to their favorite nurse/psychiatrist/patient (your choice) hostage inside the Asylum by a patient? Maybe he’s been denying his feelings for them until this happens and needs to save Reader?

Safety ↦ Jonathan Crane × Psychiatrist!GN!Reader [headcanons]

yeah, ive had a pause on this man for like 2-3 years…😅 then i saw the Oppenheimer trailer & was like ‘Cillian Murphy will always be fine’ & now here i am. i also wrote for Thomas Shelby, but i still gotta watch season 6, which is why i haven’t wrote for him in a while, so no spoilers 😂

Warnings: being held hostage, scarecrow makes an appearance, patient is aggressive/narcissistic tendencies, mention of death/killing (NOT BY SCARECROW & NOT ABOUT READER), mentions mental health/mental issues

When the hospital went under lockdown he was confused

Until he remembered you were supposed to meet with him three minutes ago for lunch

He asked one of the nurses and he said a psychiatrist was being held hostage by a patient

He asked why, but the nurse shrugged

When the nurse left, he took his mask out of his suitcase and stuffed it in his pocket

Since he knew the doctors weren’t gonna do much for you and the patient, he’d have take manners into Scarecrow’s hands

Plus, he has feelings for you, but denies them

When he got to the door, he peaked through the window and saw the patient was on his knees as if begging

You were shaking your head and he slammed his fist on the table before calming down and trying to take your hand

He could sense the fear and he shook his head

As much as he loved fear, he hated you being in fear

He put the mask on before kicking the door open as hard as he could

You jumped and tried making yourself melt into the tiles of the wall

Scarecrow gripped the patient’s bicep and tilted his head to the side

“What are you afraid of?”

The fear toxins surrounded the patient and he began screaming in fear

You gasped before running out of the room and running towards Jonathan’s office

Underneath the mask, he smirked at the patient’s fear and pain

He let the patient go and allowed him to fall to the ground, crying and begging

If there was one thing Jonathan and Scarecrow hated most was men that could never respect a woman

He didn’t care if the patient pissed his pants

Scarecrow and Jonathan knew the patient killed his wife and said she cheated

He knew it was probably something in the patients mind, hence why he was here

You told Jonathan about this patient, but he didn’t think the patient would go this far

He took off the mask and ran out to his office

When he saw you there, shaking he went up to you and rested a hand on your shoulder

“Don’t worry, darling. You’re safe now.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and gasped when your eyes met the burlap material sticking out of his pocket

“You saved me?”

His eyes followed yours and he gulped

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

He thought he couldn’t be fearful anymore, but he felt it when you asked him that

Your eyes were still on his mask and he cleared his throat

“I’ve had feelings for you, but just been denying them.”

You walked up to him and grabbed his mask from his pocket

His breath hitched and you put it over his face

Your eyes met his blue ones and nodded.

“I think I can live with that.”

~~~~

requests are open for all the characters i write for! feel free to check out my lists to see which ones i write for :D

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Izuku; I need a new psychiatrist

Aizawa: what? Again?

Izuku: yeah, they said that they didn’t think I was going to make it

Aizaw:

Izuku: I’m inclined to believe them, but I feel like even if you don’t believe you’re going to make it, your mental healthcare team should?

Izuku: not that I’m not used to this happening. I’ve been told by three psychiatrists and four therapists that they think I’m a lost cause

Izuku: one day I’d like to find a therapist or psychiatrist who believes in me thought!

Aizawa:

[steviebunny]

Pretty Astute Observations

Ouef

20:40

“Graham, how would you feel about a partner?” Jack asks stepping in beside Will.

“I’m sorry- what?”

"What if I could pull in a profiler from the BAU to help keep you on track, Dr. Lecter said I’ve been pushing you too hard, and Strauss knows the Behavioral Science Unit is understaffed”

“I don’t need a babysitter Jack.”

“She wouldn't be a babysitter, Will. She’s extremely knowledgeable in her field and has experience similar to your…particular situation. ”

“Another psychiatrist, Jack? Hannibal, too busy for your liking?”

The bell for the following floor rings, and Crawford moves off the platform just before the doors close he says “Not a psychiatrist actually, a marine.” The elevator doors close and Will Graham is left in stunned silence, having just missed his floor and apparently been assigned a new partner. 

—-

09:00

“Most of the time in sexual assaults, the bite mark has a livid spot at the center, a “suck bruise”. In some cases it does not. For some killers biting may be a fighting pattern, as much as a sexual behavior.” 

Jack slams the class door, open and shouts at the room full of students.

“Ok, class dismissed. Everyone out! What did I just say?! Let’s go!”

“You’re making it difficult to provide an education, Jack.”

Despite the previous evening's barrage by his pseudo-employer will still managed, to put together a lesson plan for the day. Little did he know it would not be necessary.

“ We found a match to a set of prints we pulled from the Turner home. They belong to a thirteen-year-old boy from Reston, Virginia. His name is Connor Frist.”

“Another kid?” Will wondered aloud.

“Another missing kid. Vanished ten months ago, case was never solved.”

“How many kids in the Frist family?”

“Three.”  Will’s head snaps to the door of his classroom, he hadn’t noticed the red-headed woman approach. She had a delicate and sturdy build 5’5, maybe 5’6, and dark jeans and a tank top exposing her muscled biceps as well as the tattoo ‘semper- fi’ wrapping around her left arm just above the elbow. “just like the Turner family.”

“Agent, Lena Gibbs, I’d like to introduce you to Will Graham.” 

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Will.” The man offered a nod in return. “Jack eluded to the fact you’ve had experience with empaths.”

“Quite the opposite actually, I spent some time in London with a man who self-identified as a high-functioning sociopath but it's a very similar skill set the two of you possess.”

“Well…we’ll see about that. I’ll meet you at the car.” Will bristles and collects his coat, just barely brushing shoulders with the woman as he makes his way out.

“He’s a tough nut to crack, but he’ll warm up to you.”

“I’m not worried, Crawford. It’s nothing I haven’t experienced before.”

__

“Mr. Frist and the children killed first, saving Mrs. Frist for last. Same as the Turners.”

“Not exactly the same. Something went wrong.”

“Not a single present under the tree for Mrs. Frist…Are we all not going to acknowledge the Navy Brat in the room?”

“Always a pleasure Bev, the unsub took her presents, he took her motherhood.”

“Shooting her once wasn’t enough. The first bullet, travels beneath her scalp…to its final resting place, base of her neck.”

“Do we know the type of bullet? Trace the bullet, trace the possible gun, trace the killer.”

“No, the shell exploded on impact, what we could piece together wasn’t identifiable,” Price told her passing over a small glass jar with bullet pieces rattling inside.

“Do you mind?” She asked. No one in the room answered so she pulled out her phone and called an often-dialed number.

“Fortress of solitude at your service.”

“Hey, Babygirl can I ask a favor?”

“Anything for my favorite agent”

“Don’t let Morgan hear you say that. If I send over some photos of an exploded shell do you think you can use the naval ballistics database to piece it together”?

“I’m insulted you even have to ask.”

“You're the best, Garcia”

“I know.”

Turning back to the stunned room full of BSU agents and in Will’s case, an outsourced professor. “I give it thirty, minutes before we know the bullet type. Not that I don’t have faith in you guys but the Marine Corps has the largest database of fragmented shells and an algorithm made by a forensic analyst at NCIS to predict their shatter pattern, that most of the FBI just doesn't have access to.”

“And how do you have access?!” 

“My father,” she answered Zeller before moving back between Jack and WIll. “So who is our additional corpse in the fireplace”?

Will cleared his throat and said “I’d say Connor Frist. He’d been prepped to shoot his mother, not watch her suffer”

“Connor couldn’t put his panic back in the bottle. So he got shot too.

"Whoever shot him…disowned him.”

—

“Garcia got a hit on the ballistics match.”

“C.J. Lincoln disappeared six months before his mother’s murder. He hasn’t been seen since.”

“ He has none of the characteristics of a sadist or a sociopath.”

“Right, no shoplifting, no malicious destruction of property. No assault, no battery. He was kind to animals, for God’s sake.”

“Firearm says we are looking at Peter Pan to our lost boys.”

“ But it takes a sophisticated level of manipulation to convince young boys to kill their families in cold blood.”

“ Kindness to animals doesn’t suggest that particular kind of sophistication.”

“Well, he’s older, he’s been out in the world. Maybe he picked up a few things.”

—

13:00

Will walks through the entrance of Dr. Lecter’s practice holding a gift, he drops it by the foot of Hannibal's desk before moving further into the room.

“Good evening, Will. Please come in. Has Christmas come early? Or late?”

“Was for Abigail”

“Was?”

“I thought better of it, I wasn’t thinking straight, I was upset when I bought it. Maybe still am.”

“What is it?”

“A magnifying glass. Fly-tying gear.”

“Teaching her how to fish. Her father taught her how to hunt.”

“That’s why I thought better of it.”

“Pretty paternal, Will.”

“ Aren’t you?”

“Yes. Our good friend Doctor Bloom has advised against taking too personal an interest in Abigail’s welfare. Tell me why are you so angry?”

“I’m angry about being assigned a partner, I’m angry about those boys, I’m angry because I know when I find them, I can’t help them. I can’t, I can’t give them back what they just gave away.”

“A partner?”

“Yeah, Lena Gibbs. Jack introduced her as a marine though.”

“Fascinating…Tell me did she mention anything about the UK”?

“Yeah, actually. How did you-” Hannibal stood from his position to retrieve his tablet, he typed out a phrase and handed the device to his colleague. “I keep an eye on media around the world,” he said, taking in the man's reaction to the words.

“She was engaged to Sherlock Holmes, I’m sure you heard of him. She and a man by the name of John Watson both contributed to Mr. Holmes’s private detective work, right up until the moment he threw himself from St. Bart's hospital, according to speculation he did do to prevent Ms. Gibbs and others from being attacked by a terrorist known as Moriarty.”

“I didn’t take you as one for speculation, Hannibal.”

“Sometimes it’s a necessary measure when secrets are so heavily guarded.”

“Is that a warning?”

“Who said they were her secrets?”

“Well, that's not vague at all.”

“I’m sure with time, you will come to bond with this new partner. Now tell me more about this ‘murder family.’”

“We call them “The lost boys”.

“Ms. Gibbs is likely lost too. And perhaps it can be our responsibility to help her find her way.”

—

16:00

“Bangor, Maine. Stanford, Connecticut, and recently Reston, Virginia.”

“Right.”

“You’re trying to establish a geographical pattern, when the murders were weeks apart.”

“ Other patterns too. Our shooters are minors middle children from traditional affluent families.”

“ We know they’re moving South, so that means we wanna cover the border of North Carolina and Georgia. We need to get files on every missing boy within two hundred miles of North Carolina.”

“There’s a pattern, less to do with geography than psychology."

“What kind of kid does this?”

"And what kind of kid follows a kid who does this?”

“There’s no indication that these kids came from abusive families.”

“No, no, no. Capture bonding. A passive psychological response to a new master has been an essential survival tool for a million years. Bond with your captor, you survive. You don’t…you’re breakfast.”

—

As the S.W.A.T vans pull into the scene Lena, and Will rush to the home, an agent passes the woman an M-4. She remains behind to steady herself for the shot as the rest rush forward. The eldest boy of the group raises his pistol to his “sibling’s” father, Gibbs pulls the trigger and sends off a round through the teenager's shoulder.

The scene erupts into chaos and the youngest boy runs off toward the pool. She and will chase after him, at the edge of the water the child grabs a pistol of his own aiming it at Will’s chest, 

“Don’t shoot!” Will isn’t only talking to the boy, he’s telling her.

Don’t shoot.

“Chris, wait. Don’t shoot. It’s OK. You’re home now, put the gun down, Christopher.”

His kidnapper emerges from the pool shed, and grabs the boy “Shoot him, Christopher.”

Don’t Shoot

“Christopher, please.”

*BANG*

Will freezes, and the kidnapper drops to the ground his ears ring out slightly as Lena moves to disarm the young boy.

“Chris, buddy are you alright?” Will can’t tell if she's whispering or if his ears are still ringing from the shot. He stands like a statue his gaze on the kidnapper's body, a single round through the middle of the eyes. Efficient, he can’t help himself but think. He doesn't even notice as his partner picks up the child and takes him over to the SUV. It’s not until Beverly taps him on the shoulder he breaks out of his trance.

—

05:00 The next morning

“I seldom have patients that ask to see me at such an early hour”

“Am I burdening your routine Dr. Lecter?” If he didn’t know better he’d think the question naive.

“A friend is never a burden.”

“A friend?”

“Would you like to be, or I could simply be your psychiatrist, someone to who you tell everything?”

“The last person I told everything…Killed himself, Doctor. I don’t think that's a track record you’d want to be a part of.”

“I think you and I both know that’s not why Sherlock did what he did.”

“Are you trying to defend him?”

“No merely seek the truth.”

“He was swayed by an evil hand.”

“Evil is subjective.”

---

“Evil is something that consumes. It digests. The rest of time it waits hungry and unseen waiting for the time to strike.”

Coquille (chapter 2)

[bunnyseahorse-blog]

I don’t feel like my therapist is listening, so I fired him, and I don't even feel bad.

I have half a dozen serious mental illness diagnosis and medical issues. When I applied for disability I was approved in three months (usually takes longer from what I'm told) and almost immediately moved from their metaphorical “she might get better” to “she’s going to be receiving benefits for life” pile.

The doctor I saw from age 7 to 30 advised me not to drive because of my condition that causes me frequent fainting.

She suggested I not live alone because I have delusions, mood swings and sometimes need to be hospitalized. I saw this doctor for 23 years, and also went to other specialists that agreed with her. I saw her until she was retired.

My general doctor says that even though I am overweight she is pleased with my glucose and cholesterol levels. My old, and also my new psychiatrists agreed with her.

My parents say I can live with them and have support. They are actually creating an expansion on the house so I can live on my own sort of and still have them nearby. My eldest sibling is inheriting the house when my parents die and they will rent to me until I die. We don't always get along, but I am trying, and we are navigating our unique dynamic so we can make it work.

This new therapist I’ve been seeing keeps insisting I go off disability, get a job, move out of my family’s house, live alone, and lose weight. Because I’m too old to “mooch off my parents.” He made comments from the get go about my weight. I am overweight yes, but he's not a doctor or nurtritionist. I am not experiencing any health issues because of my weight, which is partly due to my medical conditions and my meds. He made a comment once that i should show some pride in myself and not wear a beanie to sessions "do something nice with my hair." He told me once my shoulders looked smaller and I must be doing better. I was thinking.... do I have fat shoulders too??

I am going to a session today to explain to him nicely that he needs to let me set my own goals, and also educate him on how my life really is. I don’t think therapists should require educating. If he doesn’t get it, I’m leaving the session but I’m giving it a shot anyways.

I’m scared and I’m angry. Wish me luck? I don't want to be a project for him. I want to talk about things in sessions that i need to, not what he considers on his own agenda.

EDIT: I went to the session and voiced my concerns about he got a little defensive, but eventually seemed to see what i was saying and switched his focus to what I told him my goals were. However... I wanted a therapist to help me work through my abandonment issues and trauma, not a life coach to push me. I think i might find someone with a different focus is good. (plus him getting defensive isn't a great sign to me) he also insinuated that my little sister, who he has heard off, never met and never examined, is mentally handicapped because of one of her birth parents. We've had her tested, and everyone seems to be saying she's very sharp and doesn't have what her birth mom has. He also asked what my doctor of 23 years even did for me. I was like... diagnosed me with everything I have? Oh but according to him, diagnoses aren't relevant. I have a condition similar to schizophrenia, and yes you should know if you have that....

Also... I signed something saying he could have access to the last notes of my previous therapist, since I have extensive history but he apparently never got it, never told me he didn't get it, and wants me to go through the process again. I feel like the office dropped the ball, because I signed it already.

I think it might be time to move on... I canceled my next appointment. I feel like I should be able to find someone who listens better, and is there to help me, not fix me into things I am not capable of. Having him insist I am wrong and lazy for excepting my limitations, after the long grieving process that came with becoming permanently disabled at 26, has been upsetting, because I keep doubting myself, even though I know I have done the right things.

[identitty-dickruption]

mad for life

It's been six months since I started meeting with a social worker. I like him. He’s a transman. Autistic and has ADHD. Openly a recovering addict. He’s the kind of guy I can see myself growing up to become. It’s been six months, and I finally feel comfortable enough to tell him about me. Once I finish talking, he just looks at me for a second, and I can’t breathe. “I can help you get a mental healthcare plan. The government will pay for ten sessions a year”. I barely manage to suppress laughter. Me? On a mental healthcare plan? Me? The person so bad at being a patient that I’ve never lasted longer than four out-patient sessions? Yeah, right. 

Four sessions. She tells me a metaphor about a chair, where she makes it clear that I have a leg missing. She doesn’t say it exactly like that though. “Sometimes we become unstable if one of our four pillars is missing”. I fight the urge to tell her that she’s mixing her metaphors. I fight even harder to not ask her, “but what if I’m not a chair? What if I’m a perfectly good stool or tricycle or some other three-part object?”. There is no room for questions here. There is only room for repeating the same metaphor until it’s drilled into my head. There’s no room for perfectly good stools. There’s only room for unstable chairs.

Two sessions. He asks me what I mean when I say that I think there’s something deeply and profoundly wrong with me, but I can see in his face that he knows what I mean. He asks me what I think being a good person looks like when I say that I think there’s something truly evil within me. I can’t give him a good answer. I think about the fact that I was conceived the weekend my mum was freed from the psych ward. I think about the fact that she was admitted voluntarily, meaning that the doctor told her he’d call the police if she said “no”. I think about the fact that she still screams if anyone other than my dad touches her. He tells me he wouldn’t call the police, even if I admitted that I was evil. I don’t believe him.

One session. Three hours long. I’m not sure if I’m even allowed a bathroom break, and I don’t know how to ask. She closes the door. She takes me through something she’s calling a “personality inventory”. I’m smart enough to lie at all the key questions. No, I’ve never felt so happy I felt invincible. No, I’ve never been so depressed I considered killing myself. No, I don’t hear voices or see visions or wake up screaming without knowing why. I’m here to get enough of a diagnosis that my university will give me the resources I need to get my degree. I’m not here to get the kind of diagnosis that will end with them dragging me kicking and screaming back to the place where university is seen as a silly unattainable goal. 

After this session, I tell my dad I’m worried that she thinks I’m a bad person. I have a 39 page report full of detailed analysis about how I’m broken, deranged, wrong, despite showing “no signs of past trauma”. My dad looks at me, his head cocked slightly. “She doesn’t think you’re a bad person, because this isn’t a person-person relationship, it’s a psychiatrist-patient relationship”. And in that second, everything starts to click together in my head. I’ll never be a person to these so-called professionals. I’m an unstable chair, an unruly client, a bad patient, but never a person. Why should I be? Afterall, I’m just another lunatic. 

One session. 50 minutes long. I tell him that I’ve been suicidal in the past, but that I’m not anymore. He tells me that I don’t seem distressed. I tell him I have a diagnosis of OCD. I tell him that I can’t sleep until I’ve checked that everyone in my family is alive. I tell him that I cross myself every time I have a bad thought. I tell him that I can’t stop imagining myself hurting everyone I love. He slowly explains to me that the DSM has a distress criteria for all diagnoses, so maybe I don’t actually have OCD. He’s right, I’m not distressed. I leave the appointment ten minutes early. 

Zero sessions with the woman who won’t stop calling me to ask if I’m ever going to reschedule the appointment I never showed up to. 

It's been eight months since I started meeting with a social worker. I show up drunk, because that’s how I show up to everything at the moment. He asks me if I followed up on the doctor’s appointment we talked about, and I shake my head. “I’ve decided that medication isn’t for me”. He gives me that long look again. “The only difference between taking medication and living the way you live is that medication is safe”. I give him my own long look. Before I allow myself to yell and scream, I stand up and walk out. I never see him again. There goes my longest ever streak of being in the crazy system.

[artpoint420]

Alright, so if you’re a fan of the Animaniacs here on Tumblr, you probably understand that all three of the Warner’s are most likely neurodivergent, and Dr. Scratchansniff trying to “cure” them of their “zanyness” is an example of abelism (as well as the rest of the humans who want to lock them up.)

BUT WHAT IF I TOLD YOU

I think Dr. Scratchansniff himself may be autistic, and here’s why:

First of all, he is a psychiatrist who has been with the Warner’s for sometime and doesn’t seem to realize the Warner’s are neurodivergent (most likely ADHD and autism in all three of them.)

He gets overwhelmed by the Warners when they throw off his plans and his schedule.

Those on the autism spectrum tend to prefer following a set schedule and doing this according to a plan. When this plan is interrupted we get upset. For Scratchy this may be when the Warners are being to hyperactive and hyperimaginative for them to even want to answer his questions. I get that the joke is supposed to be that he’s a psychiatrist driven insane by the Warners but for me the best way to describe feeling overstimulated is “being driven insane by everything around me”

He also tends to get overstimulated, particularly in “I’M MAD!” when the Warners are bickering in the car while he’s trying to drive. Of course most people struggle to drive with tons of background noise. This just sticks out to me, even though it isn’t the first time.

Also, special interests. Scratchy definitely has special interests that he seems to get lost in. Psychiatry is a special interest of his, obviously. Once he starts having appointments with the Warners everyday, we get to see that the Warners are consistently on his mind (just like how they are always on my mind because special interest yes). Part of this may be because he gradually took on a more parental role towards them, but this could also be because he began to develop a special interest in caring for them. Perhaps his own neurodivergence is the reason he was able to eventually sympathize and care for the Warners.

If you read the Animanicas comics, there is an issue, were we see Scratchy reading a comic in his spare time. This is particularly interesting because not only are those on the spectrum more prone to develop and interest in comics, but when he begins to talk about comics to the Warner’s he knows the entire history of comics down to a tee. He begins to infodump onto the Warners and doesn’t realize when they are annoyed or bored because for some reason they find the history of comics boring. Scratch that, HE BECOMES SO ABSORBED IN IT, HE DOESN’T REALIZE WHEN THE WARNERS LEAVE.

Wrestling is probably a special interest of his too, as well as psychology of course.

Also, like I mentioned earlier, he obvious struggles with anxiety, a mental disorder those on the autism spectrum are more likely to develop due to social and communciation issues and the after effects of overstimulation. This can be observed in his body language and how he reacts to Plotz as well, causing him to become a pushover to his boss.

He also age regresses when he is overly stressed out and even has a comfort object (something that I’ve personally observed in others on the autism spectrum and have experienced myself to a certain degree, I’m still not sure if it’s always autism related though)

In the reboot it’s revealed he waited 20 years just to prank the Warners. The prank seems to have become a special interest and they should have done more with Reboot Scratchy.

Going back and watching episodes with Scratchy with this in mind, his behaviors and general attitude towards the Warners makes a TON of sense. He’s annoyed by them but ultimately wants to get along with them.

To me it makes Dad! Scatchansniff even more wholesome. It’ll never happen but one day I’d love to see an episode where he just accepts the Warners for who they are and perhaps, in the process, accepting himself a little more.

[foxlightwill]

i think i said this but i finally found a PCP who listens to me and actually treats me with respect like a real person, not just another patient or case study.

there was even one appointment a couple months ago when i started getting depressed so i got angry and went off on her. i really didn’t mean to, i just got so angry and was arguing with her because she didn’t feel like chantix (the drug to stop smoking) was good for me because last time i was on it i ended up hospitalized.

but like, usually when i reach this point, i start getting called “uncooperative” and a problem. ive been threatened with security and the police, one clinic called the police on me but i got out of there before they showed up, i’ve been banned from three clinics, been discharged with no help.

but she remained very calm. she was firm, but calm, and she said “i’ve always listened to you, i take everything you say seriously.” and for some reason i just started crying, saying i was sorry, and told her how stressed out i was, and she was very comforting and nice.

i told her the appointment last week, how when i get depressed i get angry. i told her that’s why i get diagnosed with disorders i don’t have. i just have had issues for so long i feel empty and tired and i get angry and lash out, i don’t cry much or want to kill or hurt myself. i just… basically exist and do nothing while being anxious and angry about everything. i explained thats why i didn’t want to see a psychiatrist, they overdiagnose and i end up on like five medicines, completely overmedicated.

and she *respected* that and respected my request for an SSRI instead of an SNRI, even understood the role of norepinephrine and acknowledged it can increase anxiety and irritability for some like i was describing.

she even prescibed me some diazepam (valium) for a few days, didn’t accuse me of being drug seeking and understood that concern like “yeah, you don’t even want to ask! just forget it, you know?” the valium REALLY helped.

i also told her i was a trans man. she came in confirming the testosterone that came up on my prescriptions was mine and i blurted out i was trans. she went, “oh!” and told me women use it for other reasons too and she wasn’t even going to ask because she figured it was private, and just wanted to make sure it hadn’t been an error, but she’s been very cool about it.

i really like her a lot. she’s has more respect for me more than 99% of psych professional i’ve seen. she genuinely listens and wants to help her patients. this kind of care is so rare here, it’s the poor rural south. i really got lucky.

[soccer-love]

Homecoming

Alexandra Popp x reader 

Request from @themoinsen

“Y/N Y/L/N?” I look up from my phone, a women is walking towards me. 

I try to remember her but I really don't. 

“Sorry?” I ask, she comes closer and I notice the symbol of the DFB-Team on her jacket. 

“I’m Angela, normally I work for the national team as Psychiatrist, Martina Voss-Tecklenburg asked me to pick you up from the airport.” she says and I nod. 

“Did she tell anyone else, that I’m coming?” I ask and she shakes her head. 

“Nope, my car is waiting over there.” She answers and I leads me to a black car. 

We get to the stadium in less then an hour, the German womens national team is playing the last qualification game for the World Cup next year, against Bulgaria tonight. 

We stop at a small flower shop and I get a bouquet of red and white roses. 

I feel excitement run through my body as we stop at the stadium but I’m also really nervous. 

Excitement, because I’m able to see my girlfriend again, nervous because I plan on proposing to her, tonight, after the game. 

I’ve been in Mali as a soldier for the last eight months, I love my job but its really hard when I only get to see my girl over FaceTime. 

Angela leads me through the locker room and to a door that leads into the stadium, I see the national team of both countries and Martina standing on the side of the field. 

“I’m gonna tell her that your here, but you may wanna stay here so nobody sees you yet.” Angela says and I nod, my eyes glued to the field, searching for my girlfriend. 

Angela walks outside and I hear the cheering of the fans, she says something to Martina who turns around and gives me a smile before focusing back on the game. 

I asked her if its okay if I come to surprise my girl today and when the idea with proposing to her crossed my mind I also asked Martina if its okay. 

“She says, welcome home and good luck.” Angela says as she comes back into the room. 

I lay my hand over my pocket, feeling the small box in it. 

The more the time went bay, the more terrified I get. I was deeply calm when I sat in the plane back home and even on the way here but now....

Everyone I know told me she said yes, her brother, her dad, I even asked one of her team mates. 

“Three more minutes.” Angela says, I almost forgot that she's here.

I take a deep breath as we watch the last minutes, when the referee blows her whistle three times, the games over. 

“Germany wins eight to zero.” the stadium speaker, the fans cheering and screaming loud, the players from the bench run onto the field celebrating their team mates. 

I see Martina following them but she turn back towards me, giving me a thumbs up. 

“I think that's your moment.” Angela says, giving me the flower bucket we got before heading here. 

“Thank you.” I say and check myself in the reflection of the glass door before walking outside. 

“WORLD CUP. WORLD CUP. WORLD CUP.” I hear fans, players and stuff members screaming. 

I’m not even on the field when I see that one of her team members noticed me, and is now looking at me like I’m a ghost.

“Oh my god.” I hear someone else saying as I walk towards them. 

“You look like you saw a ghost.” I remember this voice within a second, my girlfriend, Alexandra Popp. 

“I think I do.” Lena Oberdorf answers, stopping in the middle of her celebration move, one arm around Lea Schüller the other one in the air. 

“Is that...-” Almuth Schult trails off, and finally Poppi turns around. 

Her jaw drops and now she looks like she just saw a ghost. 

I smile at her and after a couple of seconds, she realizes that I’m really there and she runs towards me. 

She almost nocks me over, as her arms wrap around my neck and she holds onto me like her life depends on it. I pull her closer as she presses her face into my shoulder. 

We pull back but only met again in a soft but loving kiss, the fans cheer even more around us and suddenly I feel the strength and courage to do it. 

“Hey.” I say we brake apart, her blue eyes looking with mine. 

“Hi.” she answers “I didn't knew that you were coming home today.” 

“I wanted to surprise you.” I explain, her smile gets wider. 

“I love that surprise.” 

“Well I hope you like the next one too.” I see and get a step back, as I pull the tiny ring box out of my pocket and go down on one knee. 

I feel like the whole stadium goes silent, trying to hear my words. 

“Alex, I love you from the bottom of my heart, you’re my favorite person and the love of my life, your the first one I think about in the morning, the last thing in the night and a million times in between.” 

I take another deep breath and see tears running down her face. 

“I’m very lucky that I get to call you mine for the last four years but I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so will you marry me?” 

Probably every human being within a one mile radius hold their breath, waiting for an answer.

“Yes.” 

I get up and as I slight the ring onto her finger the stadium literally explodes, everyone, fans of both sides, referees, trainers and even the Bulgarian team cheers and screams as I wrap my arms around her. 

“A thousand times yes.” Alex whispers against my ear, holding me as close as possible. 

Her team jumps around us and pulls us into a group hug, screaming “Welcome Home”s and “Congrats.” 

“Oh and congrats that you're going to the World Cup.” I say, remembering that they won the game. 

“Can we marry before that?” she asks and pulls back, looking at me with pure love in her eyes. 

“I would marry you in ten minutes if you asked me to.” I answer and cup her cheek with my hand. 

“Okay you two I know you just got engaged but stop being so cute, I want to hug the Capitan.” Almuth says, pulling me away from Alex. 

I got the nickname “The Capitan.”, because when we startet dating, Alex only talked about me by using my army rang. 

I let Almuth pull me into a hug while the rest of the team, hugs my fiancé. 

----

After more of celebration and some media stuff I wait outside the locker room, while they shower and change. 

Not even ten minutes after they went in there, Alex is already back, her hair still wet but she looks happy. 

“Hey, beautiful.” I say as she wraps her arms around me. 

She looks around if anyone is near us before showing me the ring on her finger. 

“We’re engaged.” I remind her and she smiles at me. 

“One of us has to change the name on their cloths.” she says, looking down at the name badge on my uniform jacket. 

“How does Y/N Popp sound?” 

“Absolutely perfect.” 

[vizthedatum]

CW: vent post that includes mention of abuse and suicidal ideation (I’m having flashbacks and nightmares)

—

I can’t sleep. The more I’m safer and the more I actually realize how much better off I am, the more my brain comes online. Which means, I can access my memories and feel them.

I’m feeling all of it lately.

My period came in earlier today, and I also had therapy.

I am full on sobbing now… again.

In the fall/winter of 2022, I was teetering between giving up everything and trying to survive.

I’m sobbing because (and some of my close friends, my last three therapists, and my psychiatrist know this) if I hadn’t left my ex-spouse when I did (reluctantly and with the help of my friends), I would have absolutely killed myself.

I thought my life was over. I tried my best, this was the best it was ever going to get, and I was going to alienate all my friends, the people I was in love with, my family, and everyone else… to try to be with them and then eventually end it all.

Sometimes I felt like that’s what they wanted.

I remember the last week I was with them - they yelled and said so many hateful things to me, almost drove me out our home by inching me towards the door… after they were done, I retreated upstairs to the bathroom while they called their mom to complain about me. They were worried I was going to abuse my medication and wanted to take it away. Their mom told me they couldn’t take away my medication.

I mean, yeah, the level of psychosis and control and insecurity has gotten out of control. I felt so unsafe all the time. I was in a complete state of dysregulation myself - pleasure seeking and holding down my emotions while trying to figure out my next steps.

My whole body had a reaction. I was in autoimmune shock most of the time.

I couldn’t function when I was with them without self-medicating and being on so many psychiatric medications.

I loved them.

I felt so selfish wanting to end it all. I had another partner!!! I loved so many other people. How could I leave when I had begged my brother for the past decade to not kill himself?! How could I dare??

They wanted me to isolate for 30 days when I was last with them. They didn’t see me as a person at that point - they hurled contradictory statements.

I tried to be considerate of their mental health but they were painting me out to be the one who needed help and intervention… when I was having a reaction to them.

I loved them with all that I had.

And I loved other people who were letting me just be me - and a part of me resented that.

I hated who I was because it felt like my very being was the thing my ex-spouse couldn’t stand.

—

I’m crying less now. After writing all that.

I don’t hate myself now, and while life is still hard… it’s not like that. I don’t have someone actively hating and demeaning me.

And I have left so many old friends and flames who even hinted at disrespecting me.

I’ve been protecting myself. Hard.

It’s just that… I’m safe now and I don’t need to protect myself that hard anymore.

I’m letting go and integrating all at the same time. It’s painful because I realize how bad it was but how good it is now and how good it can be.

But I’m still heartbroken - I always will be. I’m heartbroken because I was so close to ending it all after all that I had survived (worse things than that relationship). I’m heartbroken because I’d have left and not told the person I loved that I loved them (and I guess I never did anyway because I was immature and knew it would end our friendship).

I’m heartbroken because I lost that person… my best friend, the supposed love of my life, and spouse… to save myself.