#my psychiatrist asked what i had been up to lately and i told her about my hobbies of doing nail art and cake design and she was like what’s

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

as a unemployed disabled person you literally can’t bring up a hobby to people without them trying to come up with a way for you to turn that into a job

[alexaloraetheris]

I juat remembered the day, about two months ago, when I went to renew my perscription and ended up derailed by some kind of divine influence that really, really wanted my help. 😂

So I have an appointment at 9. First thing I do is sleep in because my alarm simply did not ring. First time that happened. I cursed out the damn phone and ordered a taxi, which I had specifically hoping to avoid because of the traffic congestion.

My driver is a woman a bit older than me, and she's in a good mood so we chat. She told me she was thinking of moving to [city on the coast] because taxi drivers are paid better there, and I tell her I have family there, we comment on what it's like to drive in a city essentially built into three hills and a cliff. She mentiones she has scoliosis, and it sometimes impacts her ability to sit in a car for long periods of time. I had scoliosis as well, but I had managed to fix it with exercises almost completely so I recommended my physical therapist, and assured her it's not too late, because some of the people in my therapy group were even older than her. When she let me off she thanked me for the help.

Feeling good that, even if I had to pay out the nose for the ride, I got there in time and even managed to do a good deed. I rush in, tell the reception guy I'm here to see my doctor and settle in to wait.

Two hours later, I see people being called in but not my name. I ask why, and doctor looks at me blankly and says I'm not in the system. I have to tell the reception I've arrived so I show up on his schedule.

I'm mentally cursing out the entire hospital, but I wasn't raised by wolves. I thank the doctor, politely tell the different receptionist that the last guy probably didn't hear me when I told him my appointment, got added in and went back to wait.

Ten minutes later, a visibly nervous girl with freshly printed papers sits in the waiting room. I'm in a bit of a mood, but I'm also a firm believer in helping if I can. I paste on a smile and ask 'First time?' and she admits she just got sent here for a potential ADHD diagnosis and she had no idea what to do. Having been there and knowing exactly how hard it was to do it on your own, I gave her the number of the psychologist who made my diagnosis, assured her that the psychiatrist she was here to see is the same one I have and that he's a good guy, explained what ADHD actually was and how the meds work. She was neraly crying with relief by the time I was done, and I promised she could send me questions if she needs to.

I finally, finally go in for my appointment in a slightly better mood, only for my psychiatrist to tell me Concerta is no longer imported, I have to go on some other meds and for that I need my family doctor to sign off on a regular perscription instead of getting an Rx perscription from him.

This is the worst case scenario, because I do NOT want my mother, who thinks ADHD was invented by quack American psychologists to sell expensive meds to parents with unruly children, to know I have ADHD. So I mentally curse out the entire healthcare system, go to the family doctor and explain the situation, that my mother absolutely CANNOT know about my diagnosis. Even though the doctor was not aware of my diagnosis so far, she listens attentively, and we make sure that my mom can't check the insurance we're both under to see what meds I'm on or that if she checks my name in the pharmacy directory she can't see me either.

I thought I handled that situation rather well but I must have looked more worried than I thought, because the doctor admitted her high-school age granddaughter had been asking questions about psychologists and antidepressants and she had so far been dismissive. But if she really needs help, she might do the same thing I did and seek help on her own, and my doctor realized she ought to either change her attitude fast or be left in the dark while her granddaughter is struggling. So I told her which psychologist I went to when I was also a depressed high schooler and how it helped and what I would have wanted my family to keep in mind. She thanks me and hands me a new perscription and sends me on my way.

So by now I am starting to notice a pattern.

Now, I'm actually an atheist, and I have 'Culturally Catholic' as a flaw and a laundry list of Stuff(TM) I have had to unlearn, but sometimes I really wonder if Someone Up There looked at me that day and thought:

"Hmm, looks like I have three problems I can solve with one well-positioned dumbass. Time to ruin her day for the good of the world!"

I mean. Happy to help but I really hope ruining my day won't be necessary next time.

[mary-ann84]

Patch For The Heart

Ok so it has been a while since I posted a fic. Due to circumstances. But here it is chapter 5.

If you want to catch up. Here are the other for chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I hope you enjoy this one

As always feedback, likes and reblogs are appreciated

*******************************************************

Characters: Walter Marshall x Female reader

Words: 2.571

Warnings: some smut

Author’s note: This story is inspired by the movie ‘Night Hunter’. I do not own any of the characters in this story besides the reader, who is a figment of my imagination. 

Chapter 5. Meetings

You woke up by the sound of your phone and groaned. 

When you answered you heard a familiar voice. It was your best friend Sarah who worked at the hospital just like you, but as a psychiatrist. 

“Hello sunshine, how are you?” She said in a chirpy voice. 

“Barely awake.” You said and yawned. 

“How can I help you?"

“Well I just wanted to let you know that I met Evie this morning. She slept well thanks to the medication you got her on. She is doing well all things considered and she wanted to talk to you. Can I put her on?”

“Sure Sarah put her on.”

“Hi, y/n”. You heard Evie’s small voice through the phone. She sounded better but still a bit scared. 

“Hi Evie, how are you? Sara told me that you slept well.”

“Yeah I slept pretty well.Sarah told me that she was going to help me. She is really nice. It’s just.”

Evie hesitated, which made you sit up, a bit alarmed you asked her. 

“Just what sweetie? It’s ok. You can tell me.” 

“Well why can’t you help me? Like you did last night?”

"Evie I helped with the wounds on your body. But I can't help you with your emotional and mental ones, that have been caused by whoever did this. Physically you are healing well. But a healthy mind is just as or even more important. Sarah will keep me posted. Don't worry. I won't forget about you."

Evie sighed. And when she told you she understood you heard the disappointment in her voice. But the fact that Sarah was your best friend made her feel better. 

"I am glad to hear that sweetie. Listen, I'll try to stop by later today for a quick visit. Could you put Sara back on?" 

When Sara had the phone you heard her tell Evie she would step out of the room. And then she mentioned she had some news. 

"I was in the process of arranging a room for when we got a call."

"Call? What call? You asked her.

"Her parents called. They saw her picture on the news and they called the hospital.

"Are you sure that they are her parents? And if they are, do they know what happened to her? And that she needs extensive therapy?" 

You were happy and worried at the same time. It would be great that her parents were here. Evie needed all the love and support she could get, but you wondered if her parents were able to handle this. 

"Relax y/n, they checked out.  I have talked to them and explained what happened. They, along with Evie, will get therapy, because they also have suffered trauma."

"When are you going to let them see her?"

"They will get here late in the afternoon, because they live out of town. Oh and Y\N, they want to talk to you.” 

"So I have to be here when they get here. I get it." You said.

You told Sarah you would be there and asked if she could call you when she knew the exact time that Evie's parents were there. You also mentioned that Rachel had asked if you could stop by the precinct to talk about Evie and the other girls that had fallen victim to 'The Nursery Rhyme Killer'. 

"There is one thing I wanted to ask you Sarah about this."

"What is it?" she said

"You think that the man who did this could be a surgeon? Because the words that were cut into Evie's skin were done with such precision that it has to be done by someone who does this on a regular basis"

"This is most likely the case. Maybe you should mention this when you talk to Rachel. I have to go now and check on Evie. I will see you later."

You said your goodbyes and got out of bed. 

Dove into your closet to find some clothes before you headed to the bathroom, turned on the shower and stepped underneath the spray. 

The hot water cascaded over your body and you closed your eyes as you washed your hair. 

You thought of Walter and imagined it was him who washed your hair. That it were his big hands with those long thick fingers that touched your body. 

You could have sworn you felt his rock hard chest against your back. His breath against your ear, his hands carressing your naked shoulders.

Your body tingled all over,  a rush of arousal coursed through your veins as you lowered your hand to touch yourself. It almost felt like it was his hand that was touching you.  His fingers sliding through your folds. 

You found your clit and started rubbing it. The sounds of your moans filled the bathroom and you pretended how his sounds of ecstasy would join yours into a symphony of desire and pleasure. 

Your fingers worked faster, increasing the pressure on your clit. 

You moaned

"Fuck, yes, Walter. Faster, harder. I'm so close. Make me cum."

And with that, you came, hard and intense. It was a good thing that you stood against the showerwall, otherwise you were sure you would have fallen down. You never had such an orgasm whenever you pleasured yourself. And wondered what it would be like when you and Walter would get together. 

With that thought and a smile on your face you turned off the shower, dried yourself off and got dressed. 

You made yourself a quick bite to eat and found a way to get to the precinct.

When you got there you headed over to the front desk and mentioned that Rachel wanted to see you. 

The lady at the front desk took you to her office so you could wait for her there. It had a window which  gave you the perfect opportunity to gaze into the general area. 

While you observed your surroundings the door to the precinct opened and there you saw him… Walter. His eyes locked with yours right away. And you smiled at each other.

Right that moment Rachel walked in

“Hi, y/n. Thank you for coming down. How are you?” She asked. 

“I am fine, thanks.” you said, still somewhat distracted by the sight of Walter.

Rachel followed your gaze and she smiled.  She had already noticed that you and Walter had a connection from the very beginning and she wondered how long it would take the both of you to realize that you had feelings for eachother.

“Walter will be joining us shortly. But I thought we could get a headstart.”

You nodded and then she started to tell everything about the person that was now known as  ‘The Nursery Rhyme Killer’. How they had been so close to capturing them but everytime they had managed to get away. 

No witnesses and no leads. That was until yesterday when one of the victims managed to get away and ended up in your hospital. 

By the time Rachel told you everything and showed you the pictures that the coroner had taken Walter joined you. 

“ Y/n.” he said with a little nod and a small smile on his face.

“Hi Walter.” 

“Walter, thank you for joining us. I was just about to show y/n the coroner's pictures of the other victims.”

Walter nodded again, took a seat next to you and Rachel continued. 

To say you were a little distracted was an understatement. With Walter sitting next to you, you could feel the heat coming off him even better, your arms almost touched. 

That was until Rachel showed you the pictures of the backs of the victims. Each of them is carved with a verse of a nursery rhyme. All of them done with such precision as the one on Evies back. And that was when you remembered your conversation with Sarah. 

And you asked: 

“Have you thought about the fact that whoever has done this, might be someone who has experience? You know like a surgeon perhaps? Or a retired one?”

Rachel and Walter looked at eachother.

“What makes you say that?” Walter asked

You then told them about your phone call with Sarah and how last night you noticed that when you took care of Evies wounds, the words on her back were carved so precisely that the idea of this being done by a surgeon got stuck in your head. 

Again Rachel and Walter shared a look and this time you could tell that they had thought of the same thing.

“Ok, spill it. Because judging by that look I can tell that you know something.” 

“You are right. It is a surgeon or retired one. When the body of the last victim was found the person in question left a surgical knife and a serinche. No fingerprints on both of them.” Walter told you calmly. 

“Ok, so what now? This person is still out there. Are Evie and her parents going to get protection?” 

“Parents?” Rachel asked 

“ Yes, Evie's parents called the hospital, they recognized her from the pictures. Don’t worry it has been thoroughly checked and they are her real parents. They are meeting her this afternoon and I am supposed to be there as well.” 

“You think we can have a chance to talk to them before they see Evie? And ask them some questions?” you looked at Rachel when she asked you and frowned. 

“I guess you can, but I will have to check. Let me call Sarah.”

You took out your phone and as luck would have it you were able to talk to Sarah right away. As it turned out Evie's parents were going to meet the head of the hospital before they were going to see their daughter and that would be a good time for Rachel or Walter to have a word with them. 

“It’s settled then, you are able to speak to them this afternoon. But please take it easy on them. Their daughter has been found after all this time, so they probably won’t have all the answers. So let them tell their story and if there is anything else you want to know, ask them on a later day. When they had time to calm down and settle down.”

Both Rachel and Walter nodded. 

By the time you had finished the conversation it had been decided that Walter would talk to the parents.

You and Walter stepped out of Rachel's office. 

Walter looked at you and said: 

“Since we both need to be at the hospital, I could give you a ride.”

“That would be great.”You said.

“But it’s going to be a while before the parents are at the hospital, what do we do in the meantime?”

Walter smiled with a little sparkle in his eyes. 

“We could get a cup of coffee and something to eat ? That is if you want to.”

In your head you were ecstatic. And you had to keep yourself calm, because you thought that if you would seem too eager, that he would be put off by that. 

But you could not contain the smile that broke out when you said that you would love to. 

Walter mirrored that smile when he heard your answer

Butjust before you were about to head out, the doors of the precinct opened and in walks a young lady that stopped right in front of the both of you. 

Walter was the first one to speak. 

“Faye?” he said. 

“Aren’t you a little early? I thought you were coming over later?”

“Yes.” Faye replied. But school finished early today so I had mom drop me off here.”

Faye then turned to you and looked back at her father with raised brows as if she asked him who you were. 

‘’ Eeehm, Faye. Walter said hesitantly. This is Y/N. Y/n this is my daughter Faye.”

As soon as she heard your name her face lit up and she shook your hand. 

“Hi, so nice to meet you. Dad told me about you.”

Walter’s eyes shot up. The look on his face was priceless. And you giggled. 

“Oh he did, did he? Well what did he say?”

Much to Walter’s relief she just said that he had told her about how you slipped on a patch of ice and that after that you met again at the hospital. 

While Faye spoke you couldn’t help but think that she looked a lot like Evie. And now you  understood why Walter looked so sad the other night in the hospital.

Before Faye could say anything else Walter interrupted her. 

“Listen Faye, Y/N and I were just about to head out to grab a bite to eat and then to go to the hospital. There has been a new development.”

“But can’t I come with you?” I won’t get in the way. "I promise."

Faye looked at the both of you with pleading eyes. 

“Faye, I don't know if that is a good idea.” Walter started. 

That was the moment where you stepped in. 

“Actually Walter. I think Fyae may be able to help us out here. After all, I think a certain young lady would like the company of someone who is close to her age while you and I address the new development.”

Walter was a bit hesitant but finally agreed that it would be a good idea.

The three of you stepped into his car and drove to the coffee shop where you two first met. 

Faye chose a place to sit and you placed your order. 

While Walter went to the mens room Faye and you talked. 

You then realized that you hadn’t really asked Faye if she even wanted to help out so just to be sure you asked her. 

“Yes, I would love to help. But what should I do or say? I don’t know anything about this girl.” Faye replied. She looked a bit worried

You decided to let her know a few details about Evie. skipping the gory details of course. 

“Just be yourself Faye. But let her come to you. Like I said, she has been through a lot.”

Walter had come back from the mens room and had sat down next to you. He listened to the conversation you were having. 

For some reason he was glad Faye could help and kind of proud of her as well. 

He just observed the two of you talking, eating and drinking. And realized that he could get used to this. The fact that this felt so normal gave him butterflies. What also scared him a little because he hadn’t felt like this for a long time. 

You caught him staring and you could have sworn you saw a blush appear on his cheeks.

At the same glance you could see on the clock that you had to leave and that is what you said. 

Walter paid for lunch and held open the door for you and Faye which he also did when you got into the car. 

Faye looked at him and winked and mouthed the words smooth dad. 

Walter shook his head and smiled. He then got into the car himself and drove off to the hospital. Maybe just maybe with talking to Evie’s parents he could get closer in catching “The Nursery Rhyme Killer”. 

@littlefreya @wendimydarling @hell1129-blog @b-n-a-o @cheyentjj @yespolkadotkitty @yoursecretsmutblog @obsessedwithcavill @penwieldingdreamer @peakygroupie @viking-raider @brexrif @sciapod @oddsnendsfanfics @la-vie-en-diva @thethirstyarchive @constip8merm8 @henrysrighteyebrow @chamomilebottom @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @mylittlepartofthegalaxy @meowpurrbooks @jolly-polly @auguswalker @allememaggies @mayastormborn @princess-of-riviaa @ellixthea @demivampirew @deathonyourtongue @dearlybelovedluke @luclittlepond @captainsy-cookiemonster @zealoushound @oh-for-fic-sake @sillyrabbit81 @pussyverson @angryschnauzer @the-soot-sprite @mariestark @foodieforthoughts @thelastsock @llamadelreyx @infinite-shite @shellbilee @agniavateira @luna-aestas @sissyfanfiction @lauofrivia @lifeofrileyp

[stilespeters]

SALVATION (series)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

pairing: colin zabel x reader

words: 3047

A/N: i told myself i was gonna make the chapters shorter but its still somehow 3k🥲, anyway i hope its not boring. lmk what u think bc feedback is always appreciated. also, im still working on the requests, im having a bit of trouble atm with writing the smut but it’ll be alright. Should mosy likely be posted this week.

summary: after some drama at home, a detective saves your life. Later, an invitation is in your mail.

warnings: swearing, hallucinations

part 2: the invitation

“I’m home!” You yelled as you placed your bag next to the counter and you walked to the kitchen with your car keys where Zoe stood. She looked up from her phone and she smiled when she saw you. She waited for you to give her the car keys so she could drive herself to her internship.

“Did everything go alright?” she asked and you nodded as you leaned against the counter.

“Yeah, I got a new psychiatrist. His name is Rudy Vincent.” Zoe had a smug look on her face when she heard it was a male, and before you could protest, she already spoke.

“Is he cute?”

“He’s too old for you.” you retorted.

“I wasn't talking for me, I was talking for you.”

You gave her a knowing look and you raised your eyebrow at her, making her raise her hands up in defense.

“You’ve been single since what? The stone age?”

You huffed at that and crossed your arms. “Come on now, I’m 23. I’m not that old.”

Zoe rolled her eyes in a playful manner with a scoff. “Can’t believe that I, as a 17 year old, have more sexual experience than you, my 23 year old sister.”

“Zoe, that’s not… I don’t want to talk about this right now. I have 99 problems to think about and sex isn't one of them.” She chuckled, and this time you were the one who rolled your eyes.

“What about you? Seeing anyone interesting? A certain blonde maybe?”

She turned red and looked away and you gave her a smirk. You remembered a blonde boy that came by now and then and then Zoe would go with him. You never asked about it since you were always busy with something in the house, but now you were curious. “I thought he was the mailman first until I saw the letters KLG on his shirt. He’s a frat boy?” You scanned Zoe’s face and you couldn't help but laugh when you saw her biting her lip. “You like him.”

Zoe looked everywhere but your eyes, and you immediately knew the answer. Lately you had noticed that she was much more glowy. It was visible in her face but it was also noticeable in the way she acted. She was much more on her phone lately and she kept smiling behind her screen.

“And I think his school is close to your internship so that means you’ll get to see him even more.” You winked at her and she bit her lip while looking at her feet. “How do you even know him?”

“I met him at a frat party where Madison dragged me to a week ago.”

“Cute, you should show me a picture sometime, I haven't seen his face yet.” you respond. “Oh, and to answer your first question, Vincent seems nice but I’d like to just keep him as my psychiatrist. I have no interest in dating at the moment. For now I have my hands full with two teenagers,” you froze, your face turning into irritation. “Speaking of which, where is Violet?”

“She's upstairs, but Y/n… maybe it’s not the best idea if you-” but before she could finish her sentence, you had already moved to the stairs. You spun around to face Zoe one more time and she caught your car keys before you walked upstairs.

In the hallway you walked to the door on the right with a board that said “Do not disturb”, but you opened the door anyway and immediately stepped into a t- shirt on the ground.

When you looked up, you saw Violet with headphones next to the window with her head resting on her palms, and a cigarette between her fingers.

“Violet!” you tried but the music in her headphones were too loud for her to hear you. So you walked inside and stood next to her with your arms crossed and your eyebrow raised.

“Violet!” This time she looked up a you and placed the headphones around her neck. “What.”

“Don’t give me ‘what’” you sighed. “I got a call from school. You’ve been skipping classes, seriously Violet?”

“Skipping one class isn't gonna hurt me, Y/n.”

“This isn’t just one class, it’s four days. You’ve been skipping school for 4 days. Where the hell have you been? How do you even get cigarettes?” you eyed it in her hands with disgust.

She rolled her eyes and looked back outside. “You’re not my mother, I don't have to tell you,”

“No that's right, but as long as Cordelia is in France, you’re my responsibility. And as long as you're my responsibility you do as I say.” You closed your eyes while sighing and you rubbed your temples. “All I ask from you is to just go to school and not smoke in the house.”

She didn't seem fazed, and as a means to annoy you even more, she brought the cigarette back between her lips and made eye contact. That’s when you plucked it out of her mouth and threw it out of the window, and you could hear her protest as she watched it fall into the grass.

“You’re such a bitch.” she snarled and you rolled your eyes. “No smoking in the house, you're free to do whatever you want as long as you obey those rules.”

“Whatever.”

You sighed again, and you turned around to leave the room. You stopped however when you heard her mumble something.

“You're not even my real sister.” it was as quiet as a whisper but to you it was like a gunshot next to your ear. You slowly turned around and scanned her for any sort of hesitation on her face. All you could read was irritation that you threw her cigarette out of the window. You tried not to show her how hurt you were by her words, but your jaw clenched and your eyebrows were knitted together.

“You know what, I cannot deal with this right now, I’m gonna clear my head,” you sighed and turned around to leave the room. “We’ll talk about it later when I get back.”

When you walked downstairs, Zoe was still in the kitchen and she looked up at you once you walked over to her. You leaned against the counter.

“What am I gonna do with her.” you groaned and you covered your face with your hands. You had always been patient with Violet, especially since you saw so much of your younger self in her, but lately with everything going on, you felt like you were failing as a sister. Sisters were supposed to support each other and have fun with each other. They aren't supposed to disagree with everything and fight about everything. You hated that you kept acting like her mother, but in cases of skipping school, you had to.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you slowly looked up to see Zoe look at you with an understanding smile. “You're doing great, Y/n. Don't beat yourself up. She'll come around, I know she will.”

“Yeah,” you whispered and you looked outside into the garden. “I think I’m gonna go for some fresh air, maybe get some coffee. I need to clear my head.”

“Alright, I’m going to my internship,” she walked to the door but paused. “You’ve got mail by the way.” She pointed at the stack of posts on the table. “I’ll check them later.” You said and you walked over to the coatrack.

After you sat down at a table with coffee in your hands you couldn't stop thinking about what Violet said. It was like a knife to your chest, and you hated that you and her didn't have a bond as tight as it was before. Yes, you weren't her sister biologically, but you didn't care that you weren't blood related to the Goode family. Violet was still legally your sister whether she liked it or not.

And although you knew it was probably just her moody teenage self, it still hurt.

You loved her unconditionally and part of you felt like that love wasn't fully returned.

You bit the inside of your cheek and before you knew it, thoughts consumed you. Most of them were about you and violet. You didn't even realize that half an hour had passed.

That’s when you looked up, and came face to face with your worst nightmare.

Kai Anderson.

It was so sudden that your smile immediately disappeared. It felt like the air got sucked from your lungs, and your mind stopped working. As if the wheels in your head stopped spinning, and the world around you froze.

He was casually standing on the other side of the crosswalk with his hands in his pockets, a neutral expression on his face and his lips in a thin line. When you made eye contact, his lips curled upwards in somewhat of a mocking smile and you analyzed him cautiously. His blue hair was shoulder length as always, he wore a black jacket and black trousers, and he had a dark blue beanie on his head.

Even from a distance he looked menacing.

Your eyes narrowed at him, and your knuckles turned white as you squeezed your coffee cup. It was a wonder that you didn’t squish it, but luckily it didn’t since the coat you were wearing was Zoe’s. She’d kill you if you stained it since it was one of her favorites. One time when you stole her scarf for a day and stained it with cola, she didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day. Which is funny since she wasn't the most fond of fashion.

After a few seconds of recollection, your grip loosened on the cup and your mouth that hung slightly open, closed. You remembered what Vincent said.

“If you see him again, I want you to try and convince yourself that he isn’t real.”

So you closed your eyes, and let out a deep sigh while repeating the same sentence over and over again.

you are not real, you are not real, you are not real.

You were sure that if bystanders were to see you chant this, they would absolutely think you were batshit crazy, but you didn't care. They already thought you were. All you wanted was for this fucker to go away and rot in hell, not in your dreams or in your daily life. And if making yourself look like a fool was the solution to get him away, you would gladly do it.

After minutes passed, you sucked in one deep breath, and when you opened your eyes part of you expected for him to be gone.

Yet again, you were met with the same terrifying eyes of Kai.

Fear began to creep back in, and your muscles that loosened a while ago now tensed again. Why wasn’t he going away? Why was he still standing there like time hadn’t passed? How did he look so real?

Your eyes blinked rapidly, like there was something in your eye that wouldn’t go away. But no matter what you did, he just didn’t go away. He was like a fly in the room at night who kept zooming in your ear. Like, no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to swat it away, it just keeps zooming like a nuclear alarm. It was the most infuriating thing ever.

Suddenly you had the urge to kick him as hard as possible. You downed the last remaining bits of coffee down your throat, clenched your jaws shut together and your clammy hands turned into fists. Suddenly all the fear and confusion started to morph into anger.

It morphed into pure rage.

He had taken control over your life for 7 years.

He wasn't gonna take more.

So you did something that might be the smartest or dumbest thing you had ever done.

You stood up, threw 5 dollars out of your purse on the table for your coffee, and you started making your way to the other side of the crossroad. People around you didn’t notice the way you marched in one line straight to Kai, except for the people you pushed away. They glared.

But you didn't give a flying fuck. For years you had made yourself a victim, trying to ignore your problems until they eventually went away, only to recur again. But right now, you wanted to face your problem, in the hopes of finally overcoming your fear. In the hopes of finally being able to breathe without feeling paranoid. You finally decided to not cower or run away.

You almost reached the pedestrian cross, when you suddenly got pulled out of your thoughts as someone roughly pulled your coat, making you let out a yelp. Your body got tugged backwards just as a car screeched down the road, and you nearly tripped as your heel got stuck in front of the trottoir. Your eyes went wide as the car honked, and if it weren't for two hands holding you steady, you would've fallen down due to the momentum.

“It’s a pedestrian crossing, are you blind?!” A man shouted. He held your arms firmly, afraid that you’d fall if he didn't and his voice was filled with worry. “I got you.” His voice was gentle and you stared at his chest in shock. You didn't realize that your inner monologue made you not watch your surroundings. It almost got you run over. A few people who were now crossing the road, looked up at the two of you and you couldn't feel more embarrassed.

His eyes were still focused on the car that moved around the corner. Your eyes were still wide and your heart was rapidly beating as adrenaline flooded through your body. Your arms were clutched to your chest and your mouth hung slightly agape. You looked like a lost child who just lost their parents.

“Hey, are you okay?” You snapped back into reality and your head tilted to look at the man who saved your life. “Yeah.” You managed to get out in a voice crack and you gulped harshly. He gave you a soft smile and let go of your arms carefully. His hands went into his pockets and you scanned his face. He had dimples, dark brown eyes and dark brown hair.

“You saved my life, thank you.”

“It’s nothing. That asshole should’ve seen that it was a pedestrian crossing. There are children walking around here.” He looked at two kids eating ice cream a few meters away from you before looking back at me again.

“Are you okay, truly? Cause that must've been quite the scare. I hope I didn't grab your arm too harshly.”

“Yeah I’m fine, really. Thank you again for pulling me back. I owe you.”

There was a short silence and you both exchanged shy glances. You had never seen this man before, but he had somewhat of a familiar face. You swore you had seen him somewhere before but you couldn't quite place it from where you had seen him. It was probably just one of those faces that looked similar.

After you got out of your trance, you looked at the spot where Kai stood, and now he was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck,” you said as you stared at the empty spot, and the man raised his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, I just…” you began and the man looked at the spot where you were previously staring at. “Never mind.”

You looked back at him and after a short glance, he raised his hand for you to shake. “I’m Colin by the way.”

His hands were big compared to yours. “Y/n.”

His smile faded and his eyes widened. “Holy shit, you’re the girl from the Anderson case,” he could faintly remember your features from the girl in the court video. You looked identical, only older.

You slowly nodded while kissing the back of your teeth and he immediately shook his head. “I’m sorry, you must be tired from hearing that all the time, I’m new to the area here for work.”

That’s when the wheels for you began to click. “Wait, you’re that one detective guy, the one who solved that one cold case and the one who solved that one case in Pennsylvania.”

“Yup.” he placed emphasis on the p and you smiled. Funny how you two both recognized each other.

“That’s really impressive, are you here for the recent killings?”

“Yeah, I was on my way to the station actually, you?”

“I was uhmm… just about to head home, I’m sorry for holding you up,” you referred to his previous answer. “Thanks for saving me, again I’m really grateful.”

“It’s alright.” He said and as you looked up at him, he was contemplating whether or not to continue the conversation, but before he could speak, you had already walked away.

He cursed himself for not talking to you more because he really felt something when he touched you. He knew it was silly, but as he watched you walk away, he felt kind of… drawn to you.

When you got home you had placed yourself on the couch with your mail at hand. Most of it wasn't that special. Bills, insurance, advertisements… You scanned through it all, until one envelope caught your attention.

It was sealed with red marking and on the center of the envelope was your name written in elegant calligraphy.

You carefully opened the envelope to not damage the paper, and when it opened, a card slid out of it. The paper felt thick and expensive, and when you read the words, you knitted your eyebrows together.

Dear Miss Goode, it has been a while since we last spoke. I hope you’re doing well in these times of despair, and I hope to get our status up as acquaintances after all these years. Thereby I am most delighted to invite you to the opening of the Hotel Cortez. Saturday at 8pm. You can bring a plus one if you’d like. It would be delightful if you were to attend.

JPM

[spencer-reids-adventures]

prompt - late s1 to early s2 Spencer telling Gideon he's been diagnosed with schizophrenia.

A/N: I have no idea what the actual FBI policy is like for agents with mental illnesses. This story is complete fiction.

Spencer stands outside Gideon’s office, his arms wrapped around himself, hunched over as he digs one toe into the carpet. He’s been out there for about 15 minutes, but hasn’t managed to make himself knock on the door yet. Before his brain can take him in circles one more time, the door opens, and Gideon steps out.

“Reid?” he says. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Spencer stares at him with wide eyes, and then he swallows and nods. “There’s something I need to speak to you about,” he says. “When you have a chance.”

“I was just going to grab some food and bring it back to my office to eat. Would you like to join me for lunch?”

“Yes, please,” says Spencer. “I’ll—I have my lunch in the fridge. I’ll go get it.”

Ten minutes later they are both seated in Gideon’s office, Gideon at his desk, Spencer in a chair across from him. Gideon gives him a reassuring smile.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Spencer fidgets anxiously and looks past Gideon’s ear—his best approximation of eye contact. 

“I saw a new doctor yesterday,” he says softly.

“What kind of doctor?” Gideon asks, cutting to the chase, and Spencer cringes a little.

“A specialist,” he says vaguely.

“Spencer.”

“A psychiatrist.”

“Okay.” Gideon pauses. “Is there more you wanted to say about that?”

Spencer nods.

“I’m here whenever you’re ready,” Gideon says kindly. “Take your time, okay?”

Spencer nods again. “It’s, um. I got a…new diagnosis.”

“Okay.”

“Did you know my mom has schizophrenia?” he asks, veering slightly off course. 

“I had heard something to that effect, yes,” says Gideon. “She’s institutionalized?”

“Yeah. I did that to her, when I was 18. She couldn’t live on her own anymore.”

Gideon nods. “That sounds difficult.”

“I have schizophrenia,” Spencer blurts out. “That’s what the doctor told me. I’ve been seeing her for…for several months now.”

“Several months?” Gideon sounds surprised. “Have you suspected that something was going on?”

Spencer nods. “I haven’t felt like myself for a long time,” he admits. “And lately the symptoms have become a little bit more…distressing. So I thought I should talk to someone about it.”

“You did the right thing, Spencer. I’m proud of you.”

Spencer stares at him. “Why are you proud of me?” he asks. “I’m sick.”

“I’m proud of you for seeking out help when you needed it,” Gideon says. “Are you continuing to see your psychiatrist?”

“Yes,” Spencer says quietly. “I see her weekly.”

“Is she starting you on medication?”

Spencer nods. “I, um, I started it last night,” he says. 

“How are you feeling?”

“About the same.” Spencer shrugs. “It’s only been one day.”

“That’s fair.”

“Am I going to have to leave my job?” Spencer suddenly asks. “Am I—is this the end of my BAU career?”

Gideon frowns. “I don’t see why it would be,” he says. “Some aspects of your job may need to be reevaluated, but overall, you are an asset to the Bureau. As long as you don’t have active symptoms that are getting in the way of your work, and you’re willing to take time off when you are having symptoms, I think you should be just fine.”

“Thank you, sir,” Spencer says, staring down at his lap. When he looks up at Gideon, his eyes are shining. “Just…thank you.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Gideon promises. “Don’t ever forget that we’re all here for you, all right?”

“Thank you,” Spencer repeats one more time.

[donnerpartyofone]

This week during my annual checkup, I will be asking my GP for a referral to a psychiatrist. In anticipation of this, I have been keeping a diary cataloging all the screwy, dysfunctional things I do during the course of a normal day. I'm afraid that if I simply go and tell a doctor what generally happens with me, they won't believe me. They'll tell me that I don't have any real problems, that all my alleged mistakes are the imaginary products of low self-esteem, like so many friends and family members and bad therapists have done. I need a record.

As I've been documenting my days and seeing the patterns in my dysfunction, more historical issues are beginning to surface. It's fascinating, it's like an archeological dig. I cleared a plot for a new building, and I've found all these esoteric items under the surface. How many times have I tried to learn something new, with great diligence and care, and somehow adopted the exact opposite practice of what I was taught, without even realizing it until it was too late?

When I decided to sign up for a karate class, I went to a demo and studied it intensely. I practiced what I had observed in the basement during the week before my first class, determined not to be embarrassed by what a slow (especially physical) learner I am. Then when I got to my first class, I realized that I had been doing the exact opposite of what the students in the demo were told to do with their feet.

When I was forced to take an after-school tap dance class, I could barely get through it because for some reason I picked up the exact opposite of the basic toe-heel pattern we were taught. I wasn't able to correct my perception at any time during the whole battery of rehearsals we had for our dumb little first performance; I only realized later, when I was randomly prompted to reflect on what we were shown (and which was repeated like a chant throughout every session). At least I didn't have to keep learning tap.

When I got my first barista job, I was very concerned about screwing up and listened intently to all of the training, trying to burn it into my brain. Weeks later, my boss gently pointed out that I had been very consistently putting the lid on the cup the exact opposite way he told me to do it, with the mouth hole incorrectly lined up with the cup seam.

When I met my future best friend in college--someone who immediately impressed me, and who I wanted to like me--I somehow convinced myself that her unusual last name was pronounced the exact opposite way from what she had told me. Embarrassingly, I went around valiantly correcting people like I was doing her a big favor, until she reminded me of what she had actually said.

Each time I think of an example of this, another one appears. How does this happen? On no occasion did I just blithely tune out, assuming I'd figure things out by myself and everything would be fine. On no occasion did I interrupt or ignore someone, assuming that what they were telling me didn't really matter. I'm not embarrassed to ask questions or to make someone repeat themselves. I have always been a studious person and a tragic people-pleaser. I want to do a good job. I believe in making an effort. I care. I was listening hard.

[fallenangelwerewolf]

MASSIVE CW: Vent, suicide mentioned, Drug and alcohol addiction, Caffiene addiction, Accidental Overdose, child abuse mentioned, mental health neglect, medical malpractice, mental hospitalization, police brutality, prison mentioned, AND THIS IS A VERY POLITICAL POST (FAR LEFTISM (I am a anarchocommunist)) PLEASE ASK ME TO ADD MORE CW IF NEEDED,

It really bothers me how I will never relate to or feel nostalgic to late 2000s to early 2010s post about elementary school.. I see picture of the inside of buses, school activities, and all of that, I can’t relate to any of it.. I didn’t go to elementary school and I only did 2 months of 7th grade and 1 week as a freshman and 1 fucking day as a sophomore, the rest of my schooling was at alternative schools that sucked and homeschooling which I can’t remember most of it cause at the time I was still actively being abused, I see my three youngest siblings and how they are still in school, how they got to learn and have friends, and I have none of that.. my two older siblings also have been to and completed high school, I have nothing.. I was too autistic and weird and mentally Ill to have done anything, I had been hospitalized twice and fucking spent my whole summer of 2018 (my last year in my home state) in a fucking residential program that said they were duel diagnosis BUT THEY ONLY FOCUSED ON THE KIDS THERE THAT HAD DRUG AND ALCHOL ADDICTIONS AND THEY COMPLETELY IGNORED MY CAFFEINE ADDICTION AND DOWNPLAYED IT SO MUCH THAT I GAVE UP ON QUITING they had FORCED me go to NA, MA, and AA meetings WHEN I DIDNT HAVE TO GO and they ignored my mental health, I LITERALLY HAVE BEEN STRUGGLING WITH SCHIZOAFFECTIVE DISORDER SINCE I WAS FUCKING 4 YEARS OLD AND IT TOOK 17 FUCKING YEARS TO GET A DIAGNOSIS CAUSE NO ONE WANTED TO DIAGNOSE A CHILD AND CAUSE OF THAT I WASNT ON ANTIPSYCHOTICS INTIL I WAS FUCKING 18!!!!! I WAS IN CONSTANT PSYCHOSIS AND I WAS PARANOID ALL THE FUCKING TIME AND I COULDNT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT!! AND MY AUTISM AND ADHD WERE NEGLECTED CAUSE MY PARENT WERE TOO FOCUSED ON MY MENTAL ILLNESS AND MY TWO BROTHERS WHO WERE DIAGNOSED WITH AUTISM EARLY ON!!! I WAS DIAGNOSED AT 12 AND THEY DIDNT TELL ME INTIL I WAS 15!!!! I WAS CONSTANTLY DRINKING ENERGY DRINKS SO MANY IN A FUCKING DAY THAT I FUCKING OVERDOSED AND WAS UP FOR 3 WHOLE FUCKING DAYS AND MY MOM STILL DIDNT TAKE ME TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL AND I WAS DOING ALL THAT TO SELF MEDICATE MY ADHD AND I DIDNT GET PUT ONTO STIMULENTS INTIL I WAS 18 AND THEN MY PSYCH TOOK ME OFF CAUSE I DIDNT DO WHAT SHE TOLD ME TO AND I SPENT MONTHS TRYING TO GET A NEW PSYCHIATRIST AND WHEN I DID SHE PUT ME BACK ON THEM WITH NO STIPULATIONS CAUSE ITS FUCKED UP TO DO THAT!!!!AND I MISSED THE LAST 4 APPOINTMENTS WITH HER CAUSE THEY ARE ONLINE ONLY APPOINTMENTS AND I HAVE MEMORY FUCKNG ISSUES CAUSE OF LONG FUCKING COVID SO NOW IVE RUN OUT OF MY FUCKING RITALIN AND I HAVE TO SELF MEDICATE WITH ENERGY DRINKS TO FUNCTION PROPERLY BUT I HAVE A FUCKING HEART CONDITION AND SO NOW MY HEART RATE IS HIGHER THAN AVERAGE (USUALLY ITS 100 AND NOW ITS BEEN AROUND 150) CAUSE I DONT HAVE PROPER STIMULENTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK THE MENTAL AND MEDICAL HEALTH CARE SYSTEM IN THE FUCKING UNITED STATES OF FASCISM CAUSE NOW I HAVE FUCKED UP TEETH AND CAUSE I CANT GET THEM FUCKING FIXEX CAUSD I DONT HAVE FUCKING DENTAL INSURANCE CAUSE MY STATE INSURANCE DOSENT COVER DENTAL OR OPTICAL AND GUESS WHAT? BLINDNESS RUNS IN MY FAMILY AND MY VISION HAS BEEN SLOWLY DETERIORATING AND I JUST HAD TO PAY 80$ FUCKING DOLLARS TO SEE AN OPTRISTION AND I ONLY RECEIVED 628$ A MONTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK THE SYSTEM FUCK CAPITALISM FUCK CHRISTOFASCISM FUCK THE GOVERNMENT FUCK COPS FUCK THE PRISON INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX FUCK THE MILITARY INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX FUCK IT ALL

I AM FULL OF SO MUCH FUCKING RAGE I SWEAR I COULD TAKE ON THE WHOLE POLICE FORCE HERE BUT I KNOW I CANT AND THAT IT JUST BE POLICE ASSISTED SUICIDE!!!!!!!

[crockettmarcel]

I wish you would write a fic where Sarah and Ava actually hate each other and Connor is stuck in the middle <3

sorry that this took me almost two years to write lol. better late than never though right? wc: 1076

“Connor, how many psychiatrists work at this hospital?” Ava asks, appearing out of nowhere next to him at his computer.

“I’m not sure,” he says, turning to look up at her. “Maybe ten? Give or take.”

“Uh-huh.” She nods, then pulls out the chair next to his and sits down. “So, more than one, you’d say?”

“That’s usually what ten means, yeah. Why, what’s going on?”

“Oh, I’m just wondering why, if we have so many different psychiatrists here, you’d page Dr Reese to consult on our patient. Surely there was someone else, perhaps with more experience, that would have been able to assess competency?”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Honestly, Ava, I had no idea she’d be the one doing it. I asked Maggie to page psych and I guess she chose Sarah. Not my fault.”

She glares at him, then for added emphasis, crosses her arms against her chest. “Have you considered using your brain for once? Next time, tell her to page anyone but Dr Reese, okay? It’s not that hard to remember.”

“Yes ma’am.” He salutes her, earning himself an even fiercer look, and he’s certain that if he pushes her any further, she’ll burst a blood vessel. Or into flames. “What’s the big deal, anyway? You don’t have to be there while she does her assessment.”

“I know that, Connor. I’m not a complete idiot.” As soon as Sarah had appeared in the doorway of the treatment room, tablet in hand and that stupid sickly-sweet, over-sympathetic smile on her face, Ava had excused herself and spent the next fifteen minutes staring daggers at the room from the nurses’ station. “But she had to tell someone the results of her assessment, and since you’d fucked off up here to do God-knows-what, I got that privilege.”

“Okay, well I’m sorry about that, Ava. I’ll stick around next time so you don’t need to speak to her.”

“My knight in shining armour, thank you.” She grins at him, and suddenly that murderous look in her eyes from thirty seconds ago has disappeared. Connor can’t imagine the death stares she must have given Sarah, and he’s glad he wasn’t around for the immediate aftermath of their interaction. At least the couple of minutes in the elevator on the way up from the ED gave Ava a chance to calm down slightly.

He wonders if he should go and check on Sarah.

“You know, if you told me what this whole feud was about—”

She cuts him off almost instantly. “Not a chance in hell, Connor. Absolutely not.” With that, the murderous look is back, and it’s the last thing Connor sees before Ava stands up and storms off.

They have a valve repair together in the afternoon, and he hopes that she’ll have done something — most likely shout at a med student or drink a gallon of her “super cool” black coffee — to calm herself down by then. If not, he’ll have to start praying.

—————————————————

He spots Sarah an hour later in the cafeteria. As grateful as he is to see that she’s alive and unharmed after her time with Ava, he’s in no rush to make small talk in between mouthfuls of lunch; she has that same pissed-off look in her as Ava did, and he’s not in the mood to hear about why. (He’s sure he already knows.)

He does his best to avoid eye contact with her, keeping his head down as he shoves his slightly disappointing chicken sandwich into his mouth, but Sarah notices him anyway. A chair scrapes against the floor, and when he puts his sandwich down for a moment and looks up, Sarah’s sitting opposite him, setting out her fruit cup and bread roll on the table.

“Hey, Sarah.” He’s not entirely sure what he can say without upsetting her further, so he waits until she’s stopped staring at him to speak again. “That, uh, that fruit looks good. What is that, cantaloupe?”

“You know,” she says, ignoring his attempt to start a conversation, “I liked working here a lot more before Dr Bekker arrived.”

There’s nothing he can do to stop this from happening, so he just raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his coffee. “Is that so?”

“Oh, come on, Connor. Don’t act like your life wasn’t easier before she got here. We’ve all heard the way you two fight. You’re lucky you’re an excellent surgeon, because otherwise…” She lets her voice trail off, but the face she pulls is enough for Connor to know exactly what she means.

If he wasn’t such a good surgeon, he’d have been fired for his conduct.

“Look, I get that she can be difficult, but—”

Sarah scoffs. “She’s an absolute nightmare.”

He frowns. “What is going on with you two? She’s walking around looking like she wants to kill someone, and you’re like…” he gestures loosely at her, “...this. Can’t you just, I don’t know, talk it out?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

She leans back in her chair and folds her arms, and Connor can’t get over how uncannily similar her movements are to Ava’s. Telling her would be a death sentence though, and he’s not that stupid, so he lets the thought go. Instead, he takes a moment to observe Sarah's defiant posture, her arms tightly crossed, and the determined look in her eyes. It's clear that whatever this is, it goes far beyond over-competitiveness or a disagreement about patient care. There’s something else entirely.

“And I take it you don’t want to tell me what the problem is?”

She sighs. “I got assigned to your patient today, and Ava was a complete bitch about it.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. I meant in general though. Do you want to tell me about what happened in the first place between you two?”

“I do not.” She rips a chunk off her bread roll, then breaks it up into smaller and smaller pieces until she’s left with nothing more than crumbs. Connor watches as she does it two, three more times, and it’s only when there’s less than half of the roll left that she speaks again. “I don’t know. Maybe. Not now, though.”

“Well, I’m here if you ever want to chat. And I promise I won’t tell Ava what you told me.”

Sarah smirks. “Good luck keeping a secret from her. She’ll figure it out, especially if it's about me.”

[surftrips]

Just My Type – Chapter One (Jay Halstead x woc!Reader)

Word Count: 931

Chapter Summary: Y/N is called down to the ER to assist Dr. Halstead and his detective brother Jay on a case.

A/N: Welcome to my first ever series! If you want to check out the full description of Just My Type, you can click here. Not a lot happens in this chapter since it is just the introduction, but I hope you decide to stay along for the ride :)

Also! Big thank you to Resa (@resanoona) for reading over this draft! If you’d like to be tagged in the next chapter, leave a comment or message me.

"Jay, I have to warn you. The patient isn't being very responsive, I'm not sure how reliable of a witness she'll be," your co-worker, Dr. Halstead said to his brother.

"Unresponsive, how?" Jay asked.

"Well, she's awake and alert, but she's been through some trauma. It's not going to be easy for her to open up."

"Can I at least try?"

"You can, but I don't want to risk causing a mental break or an anxiety attack for her. She's been through enough."

"Will, please. Is there any other way? She's the only person who can help us solve this case," Jay pleaded.

Dr. Halstead considered their options for a minute. "I suppose we could call Dr. Y/L/N up. She specializes in trauma patients and psychological disorders."

"Do what you have to do, anything that can help me get through to this witness."

...

"Dr. Y/L/N! You're being paged down to the ER!"

The psych wing at Chicago Med had been your home for many years, so you were no stranger to the occasional call down to the ER. Because of your speciality, you were most sought out for in cases involving the police and when Dr. Charles was busy.

As you headed downstairs, you were directed to Dr. Halstead, who you saw standing next to a man with a badge. "So, I was right about the police," you thought to yourself.

"Hi, Dr. Halstead. I was told you might need some assistance with a patient?" You greeted your coworker.

"Yes, thank you for coming down on such short notice. My brother Jay here is a detective with CPD and my patient was a witness to a case his team is working on. Unfortunately, she is their sole witness, but as you can imagine, she has been through a lot of trauma and I wanted your professional opinion on how we should go about questioning her," Dr. Halstead briefed you.

You nodded your head. "Alright, where is this patient?"

Dr. Halstead led you over to a woman sleeping in a hospital bed. She looked worn out and tired, not just physically, but emotionally. After years of experience, you had come to recognize the signs of mental exhaustion in a person. Still, you opened the door to the patient's room and began your preliminary evaluation of her.

"Hello," you looked down at the chart Dr. Halstead handed you, "Kate, is it?"

The woman in front of you nodded.

"My name is Dr. Y/L/N, but you can call me Y/N. I am a psychiatrist here at Med, and I understand that you have been through a lot today. What's happening right now, is your body is responding to trauma, but your mind may not be there yet. My job is to break down today's events so that you can process everything and help you begin to feel better. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Even though this woman was well into her late 20s or early 30s, you spoke to her as if she was a child. Many people respond to trauma by regressing into an earlier stage of development, i.e. childhood. You didn't want to overwhelm her with formal medical jargon in her delicate state of mind.

Once again, the patient nodded her head. You took a mental note that she was not yet responding verbally. It might take a while for her to get to that point.

"Alright. Let's begin. Can I ask you how you started the day this morning? Do you have a usual routine that you follow?"

...

"What is taking her so long?" Jay was pacing back and forth in the waiting room, waiting for you to wrap it up.

"Relax, Jay. Y/N is the best of the best, she knows what she is doing," his brother responded.

"I'm sure she does, but we've been hitting dead ends at every other lead. Do I need to remind you a dead father is involved here?"

"Look, Y/N knows what is at stake. She's worked with CPD before, this isn't her first rodeo. You just have to be patient with her."

"I'm trying my best."

"Well, so is she Jay."

As if right on cue, the door to your patient's room opened then and you walked out, preparing to bear some good news.

"Detective," you nodded at Jay, "Doctor," then nodded at your coworker, "You two are very lucky I'm good at my job. I managed to get Kate to recall to me her entire day, from start to the crime. The murder she witnessed was brutal, and I don't expect her to be fully okay for a while. However, I got what I deem to be a pretty reliable description of the offender—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Jay's arms were around you. "Oh my god, you're the best." You hesitantly hugged him back while eyeing your coworker, who looked equally stunned.

"I'm sorry, I've just been so stressed about this case and there's a lot of pressure from his family to find out who killed their dad..." Jay explained, but now it was your turn to cut him off.

"Don't worry about it, it's nice to be appreciated sometimes," you gave a half smile.

"Well, next time we need a psychologist, I know who I'm calling," Jay announced.

"Oh, that won't be me. I'm a psychiatrist," you clarified.

"Okay, whatever. I take my appreciation back," he joked.

And that was the start of a budding relationship— or, you meant friendship with Jay Halstead.

You totally didn't have a thing for him. Not even a little bit.

[prettygreenpills]

“its late for this” Larissa taking Y/n to the session with the psychiatrist for the first time after she found out y/n tried to kill herself and then just some fluff with Larissa Weems at home?

anyways your works are amazing! i love the way you write Larissa and i can’t wait to read more of “Missed years”!

oh i haven’t thought about it like this but your idea is amazing! and thank you so much, i am trying. and you can find all the chapters on my profile by now, I am sorry this request took me long<3

“It’s late for this” - Larissa Weems x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of psychiatrists, mental hospital, mentions of suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, mentions of scars and wounds, etc.

You were watching the clock on the wall which was ticking. You had to stay there only for ten more minutes. And then you would be heading home with Larissa.

“Y/n, would you like to tell me when was the last time you have had thoughts of suicide?” The woman which was sitting in front of you asked and you took a deep breath. If you would’ve told her ten minutes before the end of the session that you have tried the previous night, you could’ve been home by now. “I assume it was yesterday night.” The doctor added and you didn’t even give her a sign of that she was right. But then…

“Actually the last time was this morning,” you said, and you didn’t even know why. The doctor sighed quietly and then she wrote something into her papers. You watched the pen sliding on the surface of the paper when a soft knock landed on the wooden doors, from outside. You immediately looked there and when the doors opened and you saw the blonde standing in them, you relaxed.

“Good day Mrs. Weems,” the doctor greeted your girlfriend and you stood up. “I will just prescribe some medication to Y/n,” she said again and you understood it as that you were free to leave. As soon as you stood up and grabbed your coat, you walked over to Larissa.

“Hi baby,” the blonde breathed out and you just nodded your head as returning the greeting. Larissa looked at you with questions in her eyes and you didn’t know what to say or do. You didn’t know the question she wanted to ask and you didn’t really wanted to know it. Larissa let her arm rest by her side, the only movement she did was taking your fingers with hers.

“Here it is,” the doctor returned and handed Larissa some small paper. “If you both agree, I will make a session plan for Y/n. What about twice a week?” The woman asked and you weren’t feeling like answering her. Larissa answered something like “that would be amazing,” and you blinked for a little longer. “I am happy to hear that. See you soon Y/n.”

You made your way out of the building and Larissa opened her car. You slid inside, onto the passenger seat, and put your belt on. Larissa got into the car as well and then she started it.

“Do you feel any better?” She asked as you drove past the cafe which was near to the building you had been in. Your eyes got fixed on a raindrop which was running down on the window and your mood was still the same as before you had visited the doctor. Since you didn’t answer Larissa’s question, she was a little worried about you. And it was really understandable. “Y/n?”

“Mhm?” You just hummed back and then something made you look at Larissa. She seemed to be busy with driving but she seemed a little worried as well. “I don’t know Larissa,” you said honestly and a sigh followed.

“Have you told the doctor about this morning?”

“I have,” you whispered quietly and then you looked out of the window again. You were already at home. As you placed your hand onto the door handle, you felt like that you shouldn’t be doing it. You pulled your hand back and looked at Larissa.

“Larissa… I don’t want to go to the doctors with this anymore,” you said and Larissa shook her head.

“It is too late for this baby. You do need help,” she said and you breathed out quietly, your eyes getting fixed on the house in front of her. The raindrops were making your sight blurry since they were falling onto the window of the car and you knew that Larissa would take you to the doctor when it was needed. And of course wouldn’t stop until you wouldn’t be… normal.

You opened the doors of the car and got out of it. Just like Larissa. While she was locking the car, you sped up a little to not get so wet from the rain. Waiting for her by the doors to unlock them for you, you were watching her. The woman you loved, rushing over to you because of the rain. As soon as she arrived to the doors, she opened them and held them open for you until you weren’t hidden from the rain properly.

“Baby?” Larissa called for you as soon as you both walked inside and took off the wet clothes you had on. You found the blonde’s eyes and looked into them. You knew very well what she wanted and you just breathed out.

“I have all of them… in the bedroom. In my bedside table,” you responded and were waiting for Larissa to turn around and rush into the bedroom to take all of the razors from there. But she didn’t do it. A little smile settled on her lips and she nodded to the bathroom.

“Please leave the doors unlocked, okay?” She asked you softly and with one step, she approached you. The back of her hand brushed your cheek and you leant onto it as a kitten. With a nod of your head you closed your eyes and tried to enjoy the moment you had. The soft skin on her knuckles brushed your cheeks and all of your senses were focusing on that one touch. “I will bring you one of my shirts and some underwear.”

With this she left you in the hall. You were watching the tall woman leaving and you took it as a sign of that you should go to the bathroom. Without locking the doors.

As soon as you arrived and turned on the lights, you realized that something had changed since the last time you were in there. There was nothing sharp anymore. Nothing you could hurt yourself with. This little thing made you panic a little and you started undressing, not daring to look at your body in the mirror.

Once you had only your underwear on, your eyes landed on your body. Accidentally. You couldn’t look away from the lighter places you had on your stomach, on your ribs and all over your arms. Here and there there were some fresh cuts, but you didn’t give much attention to those spots. You looked down onto the floor, took your underwear off. You stepped into the shower and with a deep breath, you started the water.

The wall of the shower which was made of glass became not really see through since the water drops landed on it and the vapor covered it all. The air became thicker as the hot water was pouring out of the shower head. You could still breath but it was harder than before. All you were focusing on was the water washing the dirt off your body. You didn’t even realize when did the doors open and when did Larissa slide inside of the bathroom. When you saw her blonde hair, you immediately turned around with a gasp, trying to hide yourself from your other half.

No words. The only sign you got was that Larissa softly knocked on the doors of the shower.

“I am alright,” you said and then you stopped the water. You waited for some sign of that Larissa turned around and when you head it, you breathed out in relief.

You got out of the shower as fast as you could and you wrapped your body in a towel. Larissa was standing by the sink, not watching you so you had enough time to take care of yourself. In a meaning of dressing up. You put on your panties and then you took the shirt Larissa brought you. It was a simple black one, but long enough to cover your thighs. When you were dressed, you closed your eyes.

“Love?”

“Mhm?” You asked back, turning at Larissa, avoiding the eye contact.

“Your arms and legs please,” Larissa asked you softly and you breathed out.

“How could I do anything when nothing is in here?” You asked quietly and then Larissa nodded her head to your hands. You looked down at them. Almost gasping. There was blood under your nails and you started to panic. “Issa I don’t know how- I didn’t do anything-“

“Let me take care of it,” Larissa whispered and your eyes filled with tears. She dropped onto her knees in front of you and had in her hands some napkins already. Your eyes started to water and you couldn’t help it.

“I swear I don’t know how-“

“I know love. I know,” Larissa whispered and looked up at you. You understood what she meant and you took off her shirt. When you looked at your body, you wanted to start crying even more. You looked like a monster.

“I am sorry,” you whispered in weak voice and Larissa was softly taking care of your wounds. You let her do it and then when you had nothing more to say, you stood there in silence, waiting for Larissa to finish what she had started.

Larissa was waiting for any sign of you being in pain but you were so good in hiding it. The only sign was that you clenched your teeth from time to time.

“And it’s all done,” Larissa whispered and put the napkins which were from blood away. She threw them into the trash can and you couldn’t look at her.

“Thank you,” you said quietly and Larissa reached her hand out. You were thinking about that you wouldn’t take it but then you sighed. She was trying to help you.

You slid your hand into hers and gulped. Larissa made sure you were all clean and showered. Then she led you to the bedroom you were both sharing.

“Come baby,” Larissa invited you and you sat onto the bed. Crawling up to the headboard, you almost let a tear drop onto the sheets. But that didn’t happen. Then you turned around to be able to lean your back onto the headrest. As you did so, Larissa joined you on the bed.

“Issa?”

“Yes love?” She asked you this question, her voice full of love.

“Will you help me with adjusting my nails please?” You asked, those words were getting out of your throat really hard. Larissa agreed with a smile on her face and she reached her hand out into her drawer of the bedside table. She took out a little scissors and you sat opposite to her. She seemed to be so happy about that you wanted to fight your illness.

“I am so proud of you for fighting it,” she said as she was cutting your nails and you were watching her hands. When she was finished with cutting your nails, she took the little scissors and cleaned your nails from blood.

“Thank you Larissa,” you whispered and she pecked your cheek.

“I will stay by your side until you won’t be better. And then for much longer time.” She promised you and gifted you with a warm smile which was playing with her lips.

Larissa collected your nails which she had just cut off and she stood up from the bed. You looked down at your fingers and peace filled your chest. She was helping you with fighting your illness. She wanted to do everything to make you feel better. And you loved the blonde woman for that.

When you were both laying in the bed, you by Larissa’s left side, you couldn’t fight it. You had to look at her. To find her blue eyes watching you and making sure you were feeling a lot better. When you made eye contact with the blonde, smile curled your lips and you felt loved like you have never felt. Larissa softly took your hand and she was trying to not hurt you by accidentally touching your thighs or the areas which had been bleeding. This little gesture brought tears into your eyes and you took a shaky breath.

“What are you thinking about?” Larissa asked you and you shook your head. You didn’t want her to realize how sensitive you were in the last few days, but she was your girlfriend. She had realized it by herself.

“You are not mad at me?” You asked her and your eyes told her that you were worried. Larissa smiled at you softly and she took your hands into hers, brushing her thumbs over the back of your hand to make you feel even a little better. Or calmer.

“I am not mad at you love,” Larissa shook her head and you nodded yours as the words rang in your ears. Then she took a breath what was a sign of that she wasn’t finished with her speech yet and you continued in listening to her in silence. “We got you some help. You will be better soon and then we will be living the best life we can alright?”

“I am sorry Larissa,” you apologized again and Larissa smiled at you.

“You have no reason to apologize to me love. We will fight this together.”

“It is too late for this. You can’t fix something what is fucked up,” you said quietly and as you finished that sentence, you immediately regretted it. “I am sorry-“

“You are not messed up love,” Larissa whispered and placed a soft kiss onto your head. “We will fight it together.”

[compassionatereminders]

With all of the DID themed asks...

I've actually been kind of considering the possibility that I have it, or at least some form of it.

I haven't really had symptoms until pretty recently, probably within the last 6-8 months, and I'll be turning 23 later this month. I've been severely neglected my whole life, and during that time frame I mentioned, I was neglected to the point of severe malnourishment by my father, along with having massive screaming fights and just repeatedly being told I'm the worst person on the planet. A liar, a thief, a selfish piece of shit...I've been no contact with my biological mom for probably about 2 years now.

At some point, I realized I didn't recognize my parents anymore. And therefore, I had no parents at all. At the end of December, dad told me I had until January 31st after an extremely traumatic fight. The whole of January was miserable. I don't remember very much from the whole of November-February. What little I do remember are fragments of moments that last maybe a few seconds at most, and those have weeks in between.

I think I have exactly one alter, who just seems to be a much younger version of myself. My partner and my (adopted) big brother think she can't be older than 10 by the way she talks and interacts with them. I'm nonbinary and only go by they/them, but she goes by she/her and a completely different name.

I don't know what to do about it. I've started seeing a psychiatrist again, but I'm too scared to bring up the DID so soon (we've only had one appointment). Somehow, I feel like experiencing the symptoms so late means I don't have it at all, and I'm just extremely stressed. I don't know...

I can't really help you answer that question, first of all because I am definitely not the result of DID, and second of all because no stranger on the internet can confidently tell you whether you fit X diagnosis. But you definitely experienced severe trauma, and I think it's a good thing if you're exploring different potential labels to see if you recognize yourself in them. Even if you just do it in private at first. Just don't be too quick to officially label your experiences. There are more traumagenic disorders worth looking into than just DID, if you're doing that kind of self exploration. And I'm not saying you DON'T have DID, I'm just encouraging you to take your time to figure out which label best describes your experiences.

- Erin

[crazycookiemaniac]

In case anyone would bother to read this post...

I am extremely embarrassed and ashamed to do this this. I am also 100% aware this is just one more in many many others cries for help. In no way I want anyone to feeling sorry or obligated to do something for me if they aren't willing or aren't in any condition to something.

If you don't know me already, people call me Cookie. I'm a fan artist, not super talented or special or anything but I've made a living off commissions for years, as drawing is the only thing I've ever been interested in my life. Aside from that, I do not feel capable of learning or studying anything else.

If you've known me and followed me for a while, you know that I suffer from what I'm suspecting are now multiple mental illnesses and also some physical conditions. I have saught treatment for years, but my condition only worsened as I attempted su1cid3 last year and had to stay at a psychiatric hospital for almost two months. When I came back, I was completely unable to draw, and it was most likely due to the medication.

I spent a while longer with my psychiatrist and decided she didn't really understand what was going on with me, since the last mediation she prescribed wasn't even for my original condition and (as a side effect) made me isolate myself in my room for almost a month. I stopped eating, drinking water, showering and taking care of other basic necessities, as well as interacting with people.

After that, i consulted myself with 2 other psychiatrists, and none prescribed me anything to calm me down during severe panic/anxiety/sui1c1d4l crisis. So I had to look for another doctor and straight up told him that if he didn't do something to save me, I was going to k1ll mys3lf. Because I would, I'm serious, I've searched everywhere including the deep web and I know what works and what doesn't. So he prescribed me really strong medication (the one I actually wanted him to) and I'll be taking it every day for 15 days so we can go from there.

I could write an entire book about my feelings and the stuff I've gone through until now to try and take care of myself, but in the end I'm really just one more story. Nothing about me stands out and I'm not more important than anyone else.

It's pretty obvious I'm writing this because I'm ready to swallow all shame and embarrassment to ask for donations. I don't care if it's just 1 cent. 1 cent is more than what I have, anyway. Of course, the money would be used for my own debts... I didn't want to ask my family for help so I ended up getting 2 loans from the bank expecting that I'd be able to function properly again sometime soon, but in all honesty I doubt I'll ever be able to call myself an artist again.

I also want to issue a refund to all the people who commissioned me back in late February (2022) that haven't gotten any updates from me due to my health issues. As much as they have been extremely kind, patient and understanding, I can't leave them hanging on when I don't even know if I'll be able to draw again... At least professionally.

And lastly... I want to eventually pay back my mom for all the numerous doctor appointments and ridiculous amounts of expensive medication she had to buy for me, especially since most if them didn't work in the least.

I'm tired of living. I'm tired of trying. I feel embarrassed having to write this, as I feel embarrassed of almost everything I've ever done in my life. I'm sorry you're the people I turn to when things get like this. I only have my family... My mom has limited amount of money but said that she'd sell our house if she needed more money to pay for my treatment. My older sister has some money, but she worked hard to save it for years to buy her own house. My other sister doesn't currently have a job and also suffer from mental issues (making the toll a lot harder on my mom).

Social media is how I grew as someone with a least a level of importance. If people around the world can

somehow feel like this is an important thing enough for them to share a couple cents, that would really mean a lot to me. In no way I am expecting to pay off all my debts and give everyone a refund like I mentioned...

It's just that, for the past year, I have become a huge burden to the family I love very much. I do not believe it's their responsibility to pay for the consequences of my actions. I also don't believe it's a stranger's responsibility to do that either. While I do consider the internet my second family, people come from different backgrounds and I don't know all of you personally. I know it's very hard for my family to deal with me every day, but I may not be as big a burden to you than I inevitably am to them.

All I know is that it hurts me and makes the pain so much more intense to see my mom being financially responsible for me when I should be able to take care of everything myself. It hurts when she brings food to my room when I can't get out of bed. It hurts to hear her ask me to please try to shower when I have no energy to do so. It hurts when she says 'everything will be okay' because I know it won't. So in the very least, if at all possible, I would not like to take her hard earned money. She is my mother, but she is not responsible for my mental disorder.

This is a very personal note. I'm sure people are used to reading, gossiping and intruding (even if unintentionally) on other people's lives like that. But I feel lost. I have no ground. Money is an issue no one can shake off.

If you feel inclined to help me deal with my current situation, please consider donating to www.ko-fi.com/crazycookiemaniac. The money, as I mentioned, will go to refund commissioners, pay for bills (card, doctors, medications). Even if I get anything I'll most likely not get enough to do everything I need, but if by any chance there's any change left, I'll try buying my mom a mother's day gift that I failed to buy since I didn't have money.

In return to your favor, due to my mental health issues, I unfortunately can't promise anything... But I will try to keep drawing. Because that's what I do, even if it's not good, and that's why some of you follow me for.

Thank you for reading this far if you did. If you feel any of your followers would consider sharing this or donating, that would be much appreciated too 💖

[venovenous]

Had a normal morning and afternoon, a bad evening, and now I'm having a good cry. cleansing my body of the salt. I can only hold so much regret in my body at one time. I went to see my psychiatrist yesterday (my newer one, he mentored my previous psychiatrist I've had for 7 years and for some reason wordlessly replaced her. never asked why) and he told me I need to go back to therapy to treat my constant "mild depression". I told him I had been playing with the idea of reconnecting with my old therapist ever since I started having persisting issues with [you already know] and he told me that if I was playing with an idea for a while it's probably a good idea to entertain it. Actually now that I think back I didn't tell him why I wanted to go back to therapy because I'm fearful of talking about it with any mental health professional/cop because for some reason I am irrationally afraid that they are just going to tell me that everything that's ever gone wrong with my relationships is all my fault and that I'm evil and unfixable and no one will ever love me and I'll be doomed to be abandoned for life. Not exactly in those words but that's how I'll take them. Lately I've been trying to read more about anxious attachment and coping mechanisms but I end up wincing away every time. this post had a point and that point is that I'm going to write an email to Erin the therapist now and schedule it to send tomorrow morning so I don't look like a freak. and what comes next of that... with hope the start of a new phase in my life where I can learn to understand and grow from this space I'm in now.

[qumiiiquinnquin]

its almost going to be 10 years since i was sa’ed. and im still trying to find a justification for it and trying to figure out who really was to blame.

did i ask for it? i remember being a bit daring because i thought he was bluffing. but it happened. and i remember a lot of it vividly. some of it feels like the blurriness of a dream.

im still trying to understand. but im only understanding nothing. he insulted every other girl in that cul-de-sac. he insulted my sibling and called them ugly. he made dirty jokes a lot. but he called me beautiful. and on the day , he made a bet with me. if i performed the act he requested , he would give me candy or money. i dont remember which it was. during the incident , he still called me beautiful , and called me baby.

sa is a criminal act. you can go to jail for it. but he was 12 or 13. i do not know if a kid so young who did it to a 10 year old girl would have gotten in trouble. i had no proof myself to present to anyone. and i laughed off a friend at the time who told me i need to talk to someone.

ive said his name , but it may have come off as like a name of endearment. especially regarding my comments of how i cant exactly let him go , even though i have an indescribable hatred of him. his name was angel. i hate that i still remember that , even after all these years.

the incident has only left me thinking for the past year or so to just give my body up for others pleasures. i think that's all im worth. ive been gr00med as well , by adults online. and i will not be surprised when i get four letter r worded one day. im expecting it.

i cant let myself fall in love because im afraid to encounter someone like him again. i want to be loved , not used.

it feels so paralyzing. each time i think about it my freeze response is triggered. each time i want to say something about it , it feels like i lose my ability to speak or type. the flashbacks have been terrifying. i cant escape it. the memories lead to shaking and feeling very hot and embarrassed , and his touch comes back. there's no possible way to distract myself anymore from the memories and flashbacks. i got up to get cantaloupe not long after thoughts came on tonight to just eat and forget about the incident , but it does not taste like much now. and its not blocking out the taste of the french kiss you forced upon me 8 years ago , as well as biting my tongue. even though he did not...have i word with me nor did he four letter r word me , if i did not escape i know it would have happened. and i beat myself up relentlessly lately for escaping. i tell myself i should have stayed and made him happy. after all , i agreed. though i did not really know what he meant. and i thought it was a joke. until he had taken my hand and led me to the small foresty area of the cul-de-sac , and your friend tagged along. he watched as everything happened. i remember very vividly that you and him were making jokes and laughing at my under clothes , and you stopped and started being sweet with me and calling me affectionate names when you saw i almost burst into tears.

and you got off somewhat free. i havent told too many people at all. the first time i said it aloud to my psychiatrist , my voice shook so bad that you would think i was about to start sobbing. even though i laughed it off like usual. and even though what you did was a crime , there'd be no way for me to report you now. all that happened to my knowledge was that one kid’s mom thought you had done it to her daughter , not me

since it will be the tenth anniversary in two years , i may make a cake with something like “congrats! you survived ten years :)” written on it in frosting. i dont recall the exact day or even month that it happened. or time of year either. so i think ill just celebrate myself in late november of 2026.

i wish i could go back to the 5-year period of my life where i had completely forgotten about what you had done to me, Angel.

[multi-lefaiye]

hi hello hi i am rotating sad people and fragile things and the void walkers in my brain and was wondering if i could maybe possibly hear smth abt them

hi hello hi yes!!! i am honored, thank you, and yes absolutely i can share Information about them!!!! i'll share a little from each of these, though for void-walkers i'm probably gonna just share something with juno b/c juno is the main one i've been developing. what can i say? i love them. they're such a bitch. i'm gonna do these in reverse order <3 ye

this got so fucking long, i am so so sorry-

void-walkers: so void-walkers in general haven't had much development as of late because i'm still just kinda rotating them in my head and going "hm!" so what i mainly have to offer is a little bit of the thing i've been writing on and off with juno, exploring their backstory!!! wahoo :3 this is kind of a long excerpt, please bear with me whoops- (content warning: this is a whole bit talking about abusive relationships, but there's no graphic discussions of abuse, just kinda talking about it in general)

“What did you mean?” the spirit asked finally. Juno knew what she was asking, but they looked at her curiously anyway. “When you said that ‘they usually do.’ What did you mean by that?” There was an urgency to her voice now, and Juno knew that they weren’t going to get away from her questioning this time.

A soft sigh escaped them, and they took a long moment to answer her question. When they finally spoke, they met the spirit’s dead eyes with a flat expression.

“What I meant,” Juno began, their voice hollow and distant, “is that there are a lot of people like that. Angry, vicious bastards who think the world owes them everything, and they take it out on those around them if they don’t get exactly what they want.”

Their cigarette was nearly out now, hardly a flickering light in the darkness. They hardly cared.

The spirit was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “... And they like fighting because-”

Juno turned their eyes away from the spirit, cutting her off before she could finish. "They like to fight because they always win; it's how they stay in control. They make it out to be all your fault, and they say they’re doing you a favor by sticking around and making you better.” Their voice came out sharper than they meant it to, but it was too late to take it back now.

Unconsciously, they clenched their fingers and crushed what remained of their cigarette. The flickering light was snuffed out, leaving the two in darkness.

“… You seem to know your shit. You a psychiatrist or something?” The spirit’s voice was incredulous, and the thought was almost enough to make Juno laugh as they tossed aside their cigarette.

“Nah,” they said, offering her a sardonic grin. “I’ve just been around the block a few times, you could say.”

fragile things: fragile things is rotating in my head once again and i am so so sad thinking about my sad little gay people!! i could share some of the sad and angsty scenes, but those hurt me and i want to share a fluffy one! i haven't fully written up this scene yet, but i want to share some of the outline i have for the scene after noah's graduation:

- Noah graduates with honors in May 2010 - Arthur graduated two years before, and he makes sure to come to Noah's graduation--he's one of the loudest in the crowd calling his name - After the ceremony, Arthur finds Noah and pulls him into a big ol' bear hug, excitedly congratulating him - Noah is so excited, he can't stop smiling - Noah's mom Victoria finds them (she's never met Arthur before, but Noah has told her about him) - Arthur is a bit nervous but excitedly introduces himself to Victoria, telling her that she should be very proud to have such a great son - Victoria smiles and agrees, while Noah gets embarrassed and insists that Arthur's exaggerating. Some playful bickering ensues as Victoria watches - Victoria invites Arthur to have dinner with them, and he agrees, slinging an arm around Noah's shoulders - Victoria is glad he agreed and tells him as such, and she makes a teasing remark about making sure Arthur has good intentions for her sweet boy - Arthur falls quiet and Noah gets even more embarrassed and flustered as he insists to his mom that there's nothing romantic happening, and Victoria laughs and says she's just teasing - She thanks Arthur for being such a good friend for Noah, and says that the invite for dinner is still open - Noah notices that Arthur is still smiling, but he looks a little sad--Noah resolves to ask him about that later and make sure he's okay

sad people: so i haven't been developing sad people too much aside from thinking a little on the logistics, but i do have a bit of dialogue i wrote with the main cast! not sure who exactly is saying what, but y'know what that's okay <3

gonna stick it under the cut because uhhhh well. this is some dark humor/jokes about suicide and suicidal ideation (think gallows humor), which is the kind of humor that would be throughout this wip. please tread lightly!

"Hey, I know you're probably having a really bad day today, and I get that, but I'd appreciate it if you could just... y'know... leave." "What?" "I came up here to kill myself, and I don't really wanna do it with someone else here, so-" "How do you know I'm not here to kill myself, too?" "Well, sucks to be you, then. I got here first." "I didn't realize you had to make a fucking reservation to throw yourself off a building." "That's capitalism for ya'." "I don't think you know what that means."

[judehatesmaths]

My mid class crisis of this semester:

I'm literally crying.

I think I've been pushing this thought a lot back, but now that I have my first in person midterm exam in uni, it's kinda exploding on my face. I feel so bad, and unmotivated, and confused, and i hate every course that im taking except for one but even for that one even if i pay attention so much that i understand the topic and participate in seminaries, even then I fail the virtual exams.

I've felt like this almost since I began studying this, only anatomy saved me last semester and kept me afloat and that was my only motivation, but this year and semester.... There's nothing. And now. I have this big exam tomorrow evening and the only path I've got is to cram all night today and hope that i pass (which i don't think i will).

Watching and listening to my classmates and some of my friends enjoy so much this career and seeing them thrive (not just survive) in the courses is just so bizarre to me, and it makes me sad bc (i hate how selfish this sounds) that should've been me. I was almost top of my class all during highschool, had straight 20s (the highest score in my country) in classes like biology (which i loved in school, it was almost my favorite subject) and chemistry, i never studied (never needed to and never learned how to) and felt that medicine was what i really really wanted to do.

...then we go to uni and all my dreams are crashed. I barely pass biology by 2 points, chemistry is torture too, i hate everything, i hate the doctors who are teaching. My friends kinda feel the same, but theirs is different, they don't think of quitting as much as I do, or nearly as daily as I did (do).

The thought of quitting gives me so uncertainty, i am not sure even if if I quit what would i study. I always joke about wanting to study Poli sci, but do I? What if i just get stuck in another never ending cycle like with medicine and end up hating it too? Maybe i will hate the courses there too. Plus maybe I'm too old, people will look at me. Is it too late? Have i wasted 2 years of my life? And all the people I'd let down if i quitted, my mom who had to make such an effort to pay for uni, my grandparents who are so amazed and happy about me studying medicine.

I think about the last one a lot.

Part of me feels as if studying medicine gave me a sort of intellectual superiority (it's dumb ik) but. Everytime I meet someone and they ask what I'm studying, i say med and fuckin hell, they're amazed, entranced, by how I'm studying medicine and idk, i don't wanna let do of that feeling even if it's stupidly selfish of me.

Also. I left this in drafts for about 2 hours bc i had genetics kahoot and dude I love that subject, its keeping me afloat and i did good and only missed 2 questions out of 22. I don't feel like crying anymore, but I'll probably do when I start studying. I think what I'll miss the most if I quit is all the people that I've known bc even if they tell u you can still stay in touch, it's not the same. I'll miss hanging with them, planning to stay in campus to study, going out for coffee or food, idk that stuff. I don't wanna let go of the familiarity that this major brings me.

To be fair, i have these career crisis almost every semester (so 3 times almost bc 3 semesters have passed) but this one is the one that hit me harder and made me actually cry. My counselor who is also a psychiatrist told me that this was the hardest semester and that these courses were the most ugly, but then it would get better. Maybe i should believe her; it's almost what happened to me the first semester, second semester came and it was better and i felt better. I didn't feel amazing, and in love, but it felt better yk.

Idk what I'm hoping to achieve with this post, just getting my thoughts out of my head (I don't think I've ever done that) and hope a little venting works for me.

Anyhow, too much of my feelings xd