#nature-deficit disorder

[vuals]

Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is a neurodevelopmental condition characterized by inattention, hyperactivity, and impulsivity. While medication and therapy remain the frontline treatments, some individuals seek natural alternatives to complement their management plan. Enter reishi mushroom, a medicinal fungus that has garnered interest for its potential to alleviate certain ADHD symptoms.

[xtruss]

Scientists Map How Mental Illness Changes Your Brain

— By Robyn White | August 14,2023

An artist's representative of Bipolar Disorder. In a new study, scientists mapped changes in individuals' brains to see how they differed with mental illnesses. Nataliia Prachova/Getty Images

Scientists have discovered how the brain changes and differs due to different mental health issues.

A brain mapping project undertaken by researchers at Australia's Monash University's Turner Institute for Brain and Mental Health and School of Psychological Sciences, assessed nearly 1,300 people with six different types of mental illness.

By measuring volume and size of 1,000 different brain regions, they found "extraordinary diversity" in brain changes in people with schizophrenia or major depression, the study published in the journal Nature Neuroscience stated.

This means that treating mental illnesses may be more effective when focusing on an individual's brain, rather than group averages.

"Over the past few decades, researchers have mapped brain areas showing reduced volume in people diagnosed with a wide variety of mental illness, but this work has largely focused on group averages, which makes it difficult to understand what is happening in the brains of individual people" Ph.D. student Ashlea Segal, who led the research, said in a statement.

"For example, knowing that the average height of the Australian population is about 1.7 m tells me very little about the height of my next-door neighbour," she said.

Researchers analyzed regions of the brain showing unusually small or large volumes in people diagnosed with mental illnesses, including depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, obsessive-compulsive disorder, attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder, or autism spectrum disorder.

"We confirmed earlier findings that the specific brain regions showing large deviations in brain volume vary a lot across individuals, with no more than 7% of people with the same diagnosis showing a major deviation in the same brain area," Professor Alex Fornito, who led the research team, said in the statement.

"This result means that it is difficult to pinpoint treatment targets or causal mechanisms by focusing on group averages alone. It may also explain why people with the same diagnosis show wide variability in their symptom profiles and treatment outcomes."

The research may explain why two people with the same mental illness may have more symptoms in common than two people with two different illnesses.

"Because the brain is a network, dysfunction in one area can spread to affect other, connected sites. We found that, while deviations occurred in distinct brain regions across different people, they were often connected to common upstream or downstream areas, meaning they aggregated within the same brain circuits," Segal said.

These findings will help inform future treatment routes for those with mental illnesses in the future.

Research into mental illnesses is vital in determining which treatments are most effective. In recent years, mental illness research has progressed, though arguably slower than studies of other health conditions.

Mental illnesses can have severe impacts on a person's day to day life. Schizophrenia, for example, is a condition that effects a person's ability to think or behave, often manifesting in delusions, or behavior that seems out of touch with reality, according to the Mayo Clinic.

But the exact cause of schizophrenia is not yet known. Scientists believe a combination of brain chemistry, structure, as well as genetics may be involved.

Depression also does not have a single cause. It may be caused by external factors in ones life, such as a stressful or upsetting life event, but scientists also believe it can manifest from chemical imbalances in the brain.

There is also evidence that mental illness runs in families, suggesting genes may be involved.

"We found that certain specific brain circuits were preferentially involved in some disorders, suggesting that they are potential treatment targets" Segal said.

"However, our findings suggest that these targets will only be appropriate for a subset of people. For instance, we found evidence that brain circuits linked to frontal areas were preferentially involved in depression. These circuits are commonly used as targets for non-invasive brain stimulation therapies, but our data suggest that they may only effective targets for around 1/3 of people."

The framework developed by these scientists opens new doors into mapping brain deviations in those with mental illnesses.

"The framework we have developed allows us to understand the diversity of brain changes in people with mental illness at different levels, from individual regions through to more widespread brain circuits and networks, offering a deeper insight into how the brain is affected in individual people," Fornito said.

[tishatcasida]

The Danger of Being ‘Dependent’ on Man-Made Drugs

The Danger of Being ‘Dependent’ on Man-Made Drugs

As the world continues to experience supply chain difficulties due to the past two years of mixed messaging and economic disruptions, companies that many have grown to ‘trust’ are failing in their ability to produce. This even includes pharmaceutical companies and most recently has created a nationwide shortage of a drug used to treat ADHD.  People who have become dependent on this medication to…

[projectionistwrites]

FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 3

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (13.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, doggystyle, spanking, mean!Jake, degradation, dacryphilia, daddy/papi kink, cum eating, creampie, soft sex, needy/touch-starved!Jake, praise kink, dirty talk), lots of spanish NOTES: jake lockley deserves so much love. this was hard to write, i had so much i wanted to put into this chapter and i hope it all came through okay. also, i am not a native spanish speaker, but i worked really hard to make sure all of my conjugations/phrases were correct, but still, feel free to correct me! this is the final case study installment of this series, there will be one final concluding chapter (+ potentially a bonus part bc i’m feeling generous) DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

← previous part | next part →

CASE STUDY: JAKE LOCKLEY

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Protector

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Dismissive

CHARACTERISTICS: volatile, tenacious, arrogant, cunning, reticent; a true adrenaline junkie (engages in risky behavior in an attempt to fill his emotional deficit with a brief but intense adrenaline rush); extremely autonomous.

SPLIT FROM HOST: ??? currently unknown/unconfirmed (predicted to have emerged as a result of some feeling of physical inadequacy or repeated threats to safety; may potentially trace back to host's service in the military).

TRAUMA RESPONSE: thinks every hill is one to die on; unwilling to compromise or make sacrifices in fear of revealing vulnerability; maintains face no matter the consequence.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: demanding, excitable, impetuous, unapologetic, aggressive; unafraid to take what he wants, but uncomfortable with affection.

Your heart was picking up speed as you knocked loudly against the door for the fifth time.

Surely he was inside. Where the hell else would he be? You’d texted with him just hours before—well, technically not Jake, since he refused to use a phone, but Marc—confirming that you were still good for your previously scheduled arrangement. Had he changed his mind? Did something happen?

Your anxiety got the better of you as you fished around in your jacket pocket to pull out your keyring. Steven had given you a copy of the key to their flat in case you ever needed it, or if you wanted to come over before he got home from work. You had yet to actually use it, but you figured this constituted as enough of an emergency to warrant your uninvited entrance.

You clumsily slipped the brass into the keyhole and jiggled it, twisting it until you heard the click of the lock. You silently prayed that Jake—or whoever was fronting—hadn’t engaged any of the other locks on the door that could only be unhinged from the inside. Fortunately for you, the knob twisted and the door swung open with ease, revealing the familiarity of the flat within.

It was... quiet. Not eerily so, but enough to make you proceed with caution. Everything appeared to be in order, undisturbed and in its place, but still, you felt a sense of uneasiness crawl up your spine.

You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, though. You often felt this way when you were in the company of Jake. You enjoyed his presence, and wanted to get to know him better, but still, he was unpredictable and volatile—you never knew what to expect when he was fronting. You couldn’t read him as well as the other two alters, and as someone who had an affinity for picking up on unspoken emotional cues, you weren't particularly fond of the element of surprise.

You heard a low buzz from somewhere off to your right, and as the door clicked shut behind you, you wandered towards the source of the noise on the other side of the apartment. As you grew closer, you recognized the previously indiscernible sound—humming.

“...Jake?”

You called out softly, and just as rounded the edge of the bookshelf that separated the living space from the bedroom, the door to the bathroom flew open.

The man in question strolled through the doorway, steam billowing behind him, whistling to himself, but he froze when he saw you standing before him. He quickly recovered from his initial shock, however.

“Bebita. Looks like you need to work on your patience.”

He teased, and you felt your mouth run dry as you took in his appearance. He’d clearly just finished up in the shower—there were still droplets of water rolling down his shoulders and the toned skin of his chest and abdomen, trailing southbound where a white towel hung lowly on his hips. You could see the dark hair of his happy trail against his navel, the towel very loosely covering his modesty. His hair was wet and tussled, curls falling across his forehead, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of the most attractive sights you’d ever seen in your life.

Much to your chagrin, he seemed to pick up on the effect that his appearance had on you. You watched as his lips curled into a devilish grin, staring at you with a depraved look in his deep brown eyes that only Jake was capable of.

“Why—Why didn’t you answer the door?”

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying you in your attempt to appear collected. His head tilted slightly in question.

“Because...I was in the shower.”

Oh. Right.

You swallowed, lips downturned into a small frown, suddenly feeling sheepish at your previous concern for his safety. However, your focus returned to Jake as he slinked forward, taking a few slow, deliberate steps in your direction.

“You’re blushing, mi vida. Am I making you nervous?”

You unconsciously shook your head at his question, although you could feel your heart racing in your chest as he drew closer to you.

“No? Hm, that’s a shame. I could’ve sworn I saw you staring at my cock.”

He paused when only a foot and a half remained between you, and you felt your face grow even redder at his statement. As much as you tried to resist, as much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, your gaze involuntarily flickered down to glance at his crotch—you could see the outline of his hardening member through the soft material of the towel, more prominent than it had been even a few seconds prior.

A dark chuckle escaped him, and you forced your gaze back onto his face. He was grinning wickedly, gazing at you with a carnal gleam in his eye.

“Está bien, bebita. I know how much you like it. That’s why you rushed in here, isn’t it? Didn’t want to wait for papi’s cock any longer?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your jaw fell slack at the nickname he assigned to himself—you felt your knees grow weak. Just as you’d said—unpredictable. You certainly hadn’t expected that.

But fuck, you really liked it.

His smirk turned into a toothy grin as he observed your reaction to his taunt. One more step towards you and you were only a short distance apart. You could see moisture congregating in the divot of his collarbone, and you desperately wanted to lick at the pooled water.

“Are you going to be good for me, bebita?”

You nodded dumbly at him, any cohesive thought escaping from your brain as all you could perceive was Jake, Jake, Jake. He parroted your senseless nodding, mocking you condescendingly. Without another word, he dropped the towel from his waist and it pooled around his ankles, exposing his fully-erect member to your sight, and you swooned.

His tongue traced over his lower lip sensually, looking at you through hooded eyes. A shadow crossed his face as his mouth contorted into a sneer.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed before you even consciously processed the command, collapsing onto your knees before him, your abrupt fall cushioned by his discarded towel. Your mouth watered as you became eye-level with the hardness of his cock, the vein beneath the underside of his shaft just begging for your attention. You resisted, instead opting to stare up at Jake’s face expectantly, awaiting further instruction. It was clear to you that he liked to be in control.

He smirked at your complacency, his hand reaching up to lazily stroke his cock a few times, watching the way your eyes followed the movement of his hands with laser focus, your lips slightly parted in anticipation. He tilted his hips forward and slapped your cheeks with the ruddy head of his cock a few times, and you whimpered at the action, eyes squeezed shut tightly with restraint.

“Stick out your tongue for me, bebita.”

You obliged, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue loll out past your lips. He tapped his length against the slick muscle, and you savored the familiar tang of his precum on your tastebuds as he pulled back to fist at his cock again. You whined as he withdrew from you, but he just tutted at you condescendingly, slapping your cheek once more with his member.

“Oh, pobrecita. You want papi to let you play with his cock?”

You nodded feverishly, staring up at him through your lashes, doe-eyed. He pouted his lip out in a look of mock pity before removing his hand from his length.

“Go on, then, bebita.”

You lurched forward, your tongue flexing to lick a long stripe on the underside of his cock, tracing the jagged vein that had enticed you earlier. He hummed at the action, watching as you eagerly lifted your hands to begin slowly pumping the velvety skin of his shaft, your lips suctioning around the flushed tip and tongue dipping into the slit. A low groan rumbled deep within his chest as you bobbed your head, eyes never leaving his face as you studied each reaction he had to your movements.

“There you go, mi vida. So good for papi.”

You moaned around his cock at the repeated use of the title, and he chuckled at your obvious approval, one hand finally reaching up to card through your hair as you continued to work more of his length into your mouth.

“You gonna let papi fuck your pretty little mouth, hm?”

He pulled his hips back, removing his member from your touch and you gasped in a breath. You nodded in response to his question, opening your mouth expectantly, and he all but laughed at your eagerness.

“You want it bad, huh, bebita? You gonna ask nicely?”

“Please, papi.”

The word sounded foreign on your tongue, but your discomfort melted away when you saw Jake’s cock jump at the sound of your desperate pleading and he threw his head back in satisfaction.

“Please, fuck my face. Want to feel you in my throat. Please.”

He seemed satisfied with your begging as he wrapped both of his hands in your hair, tilting your head upward and guiding your towards his awaiting length. When your hands reached up to rest on his thighs, he pulled back, hissing at you.

“No, mi vida. Hands behind your back. Don’t make me tell you again.”

You clasped your hands behind yourself obediently, opening your mouth again, and you finally felt the fat tip of his cock rest against your tongue.

You practically choked when he harshly thrusted into your mouth, sinking nearly his entire length into your throat without warning. Before you could even recover, he was pulling back and repeating the motion, not giving you any time to adjust to the intrusion or ease you into a rhythm. You gagged unceremoniously as he fucked your face with reckless abandon, so you tried to slacken your jaw and just take it.

“Look at you, mi llorica. So beautiful when you cry for me, with my cock in your mouth.”

You could barely see him through the blur of tears as they rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva that was foaming around your lips and dribbling down your chin. He picked up his pace, grunting with each motion, the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat with every forward thrust. He was guiding your head forward and backward in time with his movements, successfully burying himself into your face.

“You want me to cum down your throat, bebita? Going to take everything papi gives you?”

You garbled around his length as his balls slapped against your chin, and you felt his cock throb on your tongue as he sheathed himself completely inside of you, growling out your name as he shot his load as deep into your throat as he could. Still, he challenged you more, forcing himself further and further down your throat with each spurt of cum that he released, your nose smushed against his pubic bone as you swallowed around him, trying with all of your might to prevent yourself from gagging and ruining his orgasm.

With a satisfied groan, he slowly pulled his spent member from your mouth, and you gasped harshly, sucking in a deep breath of air and finally allowing the muscles of your neck to relax. There was a soreness lingering in the back of your throat, but you relished in the feeling as you wiped the mix of spit and tears from your face with the back of your hand, staring up at the fucked-out expression that Jake offered you.

“Did so well for me, bebita. What do you say to papi?”

There was an edge to his tone, his domineering persona not faltering for even a second as your scratchy voice responded accordingly.

“Thank you, papi.”

He nodded at you approvingly, watching as you blinked up at him expectantly. He was pleasantly surprised at just how quickly you’d fallen into submission—he thought he might have to coax you into cooperating with him, but it was clear to him that you were eager to please, your eyes glistening with residual tears from one of the best goddamned blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.

He leaned down and clasped his hands on your shoulders, yanking you to your feet without a word. You saw his eyes flicker down to your swollen, spit-soaked lips, but his gaze was hard as he took a step away from you, as if to resist the temptation to kiss you.

“Strip. Hands and knees, on the bed for me. Now, bebita.”

You didn’t protest as you hastily heeded his words, shedding your layers of clothing and tossing them to the floor before you scampered back towards the bed, crawling to your hands and knees in the center, head facing towards the pillows. You could hear Jake creeping up behind you, but you resisted the urge to turn your head and follow his movements, opting instead to squeeze your eyes shut and wait.

You weren’t afraid of Jake. Of course you weren’t. You knew he’d never hurt you—not unless you wanted him to. Nonetheless, you knew what he was capable of—actually, that was the thing. You didn’t know what he was capable of, but still, you could see the thinly-veiled chaos that swirled behind his coffee-colored irises, could sense the firm restraint he forced upon himself when he was around you, holding some unnamed beast at bay on your behalf. It scared you, but also sparked something inside of you—a primitive, savage excitement as he stalked you like his prey. Was it wrong if you secretly hoped he’d unleash the mayhem that resided within him, let himself go? God only knows the man deserved an outlet in which to channel his frustrations.

You felt the mattress dip down behind you, Jake kneeling on the bed behind your bowed position—your nerves spiked at the vulnerability you displayed, exposed as you practically felt his eyes tear through your body with crazed, wanton desire.

You were surprised to feel a soft caress on your hips, his rough fingers delicately ghosting over the supple skin on your waist. It was comforting, soothing, and surprising—a needed reassurance under his scrutinizing gaze. You felt his lips brush softly against the tender flesh of your left buttock, and you relaxed slightly, letting yourself sink down to your forearms but keeping your ass raised with the arching of your back.

“Are you ready, mi vida?”

He asked quietly, and you managed to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before sinking further into the bed and shifting your hips backs toward him in anticipation. He chuckled at your obvious eagerness, greedy for his touch, and you startled when his tender hold on your hips tightened into a bruising grip, the soft press of his lip to your left asscheek morphing until he was sinking his teeth into the flesh with a playful nip.

You yelped at the abrupt shift in demeanor, the sound earning you a sharp smack to your other cheek, his palm quickly rubbing the afflicted area to soothe the lingering sting of his spanking. You pressed your forehead into the sheet beneath you, your legs beginning to quiver with desperation.

“You’re going to stay like this, and take what I give you. Don’t move. ¿Vale, bebita?”

You nodded, but were met with another harsh swat on your backside at your lack of a verbal confirmation.

“Yes! Okay, papi, okay. Just—please.”

You were practically dripping onto the mattress beneath you, your arousal slickening your needy cunt as you desperately sought out any stimulation.

The pads of his fingers experimentally swiped through your folds without warning, and you jolted, involuntarily pushing your hips back to follow the withdrawal of his touch. Another firm slap against your opposite asscheek, a whimper escaping your lips as he scolded you.

“Stay still, bebita. Stop squirming.”

His order briefly brought you back to your first time with Marc, who had requested the same thing, but the words felt heavier when they were uttered by Jake—you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to make you comply.

When his fingers made contact with your core again, you clenched your muscles, forcing yourself to remain completely motionless, and you were rewarded with the tip of his digit just barely skimming over your clit. You whined at the sensation, but held your position.

Jake was pleased with your cooperation, but you couldn’t help but quake when you felt his tongue sweep through your folds to taste you. The spank he offered was softer, taking pity on you as he leaned forward and fully sank his mouth into your awaiting cunt. You mewled, fingers twisting into the fabric of the sheets beneath you and fisting at them tightly in an effort to keep still.

He was moaning shamelessly into your sex, his method tactless, sloppy and rushed. His movements weren’t practiced and deliberate like Marc’s, nor careful and precise like Steven’s—no, Jake was eating you out like a man starved, greedily mouthing at every part of you and reveling in the sounds that escaped your lips.

His hand lifted and he sank two fingers into your entrance, curling them forward frantically as his mouth latched onto your clit. He was working you to your orgasm quickly, hurriedly, desperate to feel you clamp down around him and cry out his name.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble. He must’ve sensed you were close, because he doubled his efforts, the vibrations from his growling buzzing through your flesh and pushing you over the precipice. On its own accord, your body lurched back towards him, your cunt grinding back against his face as your eyes rolled, your walls contracting around his digits and your juices leaking onto his awaiting tongue.

You felt dizzy, faint, your efforts to hold yourself upright through your climax exhausted you, and when you came down from your intense high, you felt Jake draw himself away from you, slow and intimidating. You felt your pulse spike as you awaited whatever came next. His large hand caressed your ass, gently smoothing over your soft flesh in back-and-forth motions.

“Sabe a miel, bebita. Such a pretty little pussy.”

His touch on your skin halted, and you felt his body lean over your back, his lips coming to brush against the nape of your neck.

“But you didn’t follow my instructions, pobrecita. You need to learn how to listen.”

You cried out when his hand swatted at your abused clit, your body jumping at the painful sensation in an attempt to escape his cruel attack. You felt one arm snake beneath your stomach to hold you upright, his forearm pressing your hips back towards him and keeping you there.

“I let you cum, even after you moved when I told you not to. Do you like being a brat, hm?”

You shook your head—another smack to your cunt, and you whimpered.

“No! No, m’sorry, papi, I—”

“Don’t you think I’ve been generous? Spoiling you? And still, you’re ungrateful, bebita.”

Your body flinched in preparation for the next blow, but instead, you felt his lips tenderly brush a kiss to the flesh of your ass.

“Compórtate. I think I need to teach you how to mind your manners.”

He slapped your ass again, harder than before, and you could feel the lingering sting forming a welt across your skin. He hummed.

“What do you say to papi, hm? For being so good to you?”

“Thank you, papi.”

You whimpered, tears starting to dampen the sheets beneath your face. Your appreciation earned you a soothing hand across the flesh he'd just struck.

“That’s right. Five more times, bebita.”

You sobbed in protest, body trying to pull away from him, but his arm wrapped around your torso forced you into place. He cooed at you.

“It’s okay, pobrecita. You’re going to say thank you after every single one, and then papi will fuck you. ¿Sí?”

He didn’t wait for your response. He smacked your clit, the sting burning its way through your lower belly. You choked back another sob.

“Th—thank you, papi.”

You stuttered, voice barely audible from where your cheek was smushed into the bedding, but Jake took pity on you. Two, three, four more times—the final blow landed sharply against your cunt, and you whimpered out your gratitude, eyes squeezed shut tight and your lip starting to freckle with blood from where you’d held it between your teeth.

He placed gentle kisses on your lower back, your ass, as far as he could reach, his arm still supporting your weight while the other came to softly smooth over your hip. Your mind was cloudy, your body completely surrendering to Jake’s will as you descended into subspace, clinging to his approval.

“You want my cock, mi vida?”

He asked gruffly, and you could feel his hardened length prod against your behind as he leaned further over you to press more kisses on your shoulders. You whined.

“Yes, papi, please, want you inside me, please—”

He shushed you calmly, sitting back to kneel behind you. He lifted your hips higher in the air with his arm, and you felt the flushed head of his cock brush across your soaked folds once, then twice. You mewled.

Without warning, Jake sank into you, bottoming out with one harsh stroke as his balls pressed against your puffy clit. You cried out, legs turning to jelly and giving out from beneath you, but he held you upright, keeping you stable in his arms.

“Mierda. Your little cunt is swallowing me, bebita.”

He withdrew slowly, and you could feel each ridge of his length as he pulled out until just the tip remained. Even though you braced yourself, you couldn’t prepare for the way he slammed back into you, his pelvis flush against your tailbone as you cried, pleasure sparking at the bottom of your spine in spite of the pain.

Jake’s pace was relentless, unforgiving, hips snapping forward over and over, the sound of skin slapping skin drowned out by your pathetic sobbing as your walls throbbed around his member. His teeth were bared as he railed into you, intently watching the place his cock was splitting you open.

“Carajo, you’re squeezing me so tight—going to cum for you, bebita.”

He practically growled as he speared you, and another orgasm was ripped from you with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips. Your cunt clamped down around him as he let out a long, low whine, hips stuttering at the sensation.

He let you collapse into the bed as he began frantically jerking his cock, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his load all across the reddening flesh of your ass. He let out a series of grunts, coupled with Spanglish expletives as he thrusted into his fist, his head thrown back in bliss. You felt globs of his hot spend settle onto your skin, streaking your backside with his seed as he panted above you, falling back onto his heels as he drank in the aftermath of his intense orgasm that was now painting your skin.

The moments that followed blurred together as you drifted aimlessly in the wakes of your pleasure, eyes fluttering in their attempt to keep you awake. Jake left you for several minutes, the absence of his body heat making goosebumps erupt across your skin, but you were too exhausted to move.

When he finally returned, you felt him softly dab the remnants of his ejaculate from your back before he gently shifted you onto your back, tucking an arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders as he hoisted you into the air. You whimpered slightly at the soreness in your muscles, your head falling limp against his bare shoulder as he carried you off. You weren’t consciously aware of your surroundings, but the sensation of warm water surrounding you helped ease the ache in your bones and clear the haze that had overtaken your mind. Jake gently lowered you into the bathtub, carefully tilting your head back to rest against the ceramic edge as you let out a relieved sigh, sinking into the welcoming heat of the water.

You felt as if you’d only blinked when you awoke, the water around you now lukewarm and the candle that had been burning beside you melted to the wick. You shifted yourself upward, hissing slightly at the soreness in your thighs, but you forced yourself to stand and exit the tub.

Silence surrounded you as you leaned to pull the plug from the drain before you noticed the plush white towel that had been folded neatly and left on the lid of the toilet for you. You gratefully reached it and wrapped it around your body, noticing the pruning of your fingertips.

How long had you been asleep?

You tentatively creaked open the bathroom door and peered outside into the apartment. It was dark, and empty, for all you could see, and you took a few cautious steps out into the room.

“Jake?”

You said softly, your soft call sounding much too loud in the quiet of the space. You proceeded forward towards the bed, shrouded only in light from the single lamp that was lit from across the way. Your clothes had been folded neatly and left in a pile at the foot of the bed, and you saw a small piece of paper settled on top. A note.

You picked it up and scanned it over once, then twice. You could tell this was Jake’s handwriting—it was a messy scrawl with an evident slant, the letters each written harshly with sharp lines. It was different from Steven’s languid scribbling, his words swirling together with smooth, clean strokes, and also from Marc’s, whose blocky penmanship was unmistakable. You couldn’t marvel at the fact that all three alters had markedly distinct handwriting, though, too focused on the content of the message to give it a second thought.

Went out for a drive Text when you get home See you tomorrow.

JAKE

You frowned slightly, heart feeling heavy in your chest as you forced yourself into your clothes. You checked the time—11:28. You’d conked out for nearly two hours, and you wondered how long ago Jake had stepped out. Was he waiting for your text in order to come back home? Waiting for you to leave so he didn’t have to see you?

You had absolutely no right to be upset, you knew. You should be grateful that he was sticking to his ordinary routine after your sexual encounter in honor of your experiment, but still, a pang of hurt bloomed in your chest. You briefly returned to the bathroom to blow out the flickering lavender candle before heading out the door, your legs wobbly as you trekked the two blocks back to your own apartment.

It was nearly midnight when you finally got home. You reached for your phone and shot the boys a brief message.

made it back safely x

A response came in barely thirty seconds later.

I'm so sorry Y/N He shouldn't have done this to you M

You fell into your bed immediately, eyes skimming Marc’s words, your lips pursing slightly. You let out a long sigh before typing your reply.

it's ok marc, i promise he didn’t do anything wrong i had a nice bath! :) tell jake i said goodnight xx

You connected your phone to the charger before setting it on the nightstand, quickly turning over and sinking into your pillow, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging the back of your eyes.

Your phone buzzed with a final message.

Sleep well baby Hope you give him hell tomorrow M

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- slowing down

- embracing vulnerability and confiding in others

- accepting intimacy and allowing raw emotion

TREATMENT: - patience, foreplay - allowing himself to feel - aftercare (!)

You were, in fact, not going to give him Hell. Just the opposite, actually.

Jake spent too much of his time letting his demons possess him. Perhaps he needed a little taste of Heaven to show him what he's missing.

“Hi, Jake.”

You greeted shyly when the door swung inward. He leaned against the doorframe slightly, looking at you down the length of his nose. He didn’t say anything—just watched you. Studied you. Observing. After a few brief moments, you cleared your throat.

“Can I—uh, can I come in?”

A beat passed before he finally sidled back into the apartment, opening the door just enough to let you slip inside. Your side brushed against his front when you passed him, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke clung to his white shirt. Oh, Steven would be livid.

You didn’t wait for an invitation before plopping down on one end of the sofa. Jake quirked a brow at your forwardness, and you signaled with the jerk of your head for him to join you on the other end. He offered a slow, dramatic roll of his eyes before seating himself beside you.

“What time did you get home last night?”

You asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. He breathed out a slow breath.

“Not too late. Hardly slept, though—your boyfriend wasn’t very happy with me. Kept me up all night, nagging at me.”

You frowned, finally noticing the deep purplish bags that had settled beneath his eyes. His curls were spilling out from beneath the brim of his flat cap.

“I’m sorry, Jake. Marc isn’t s’posed to be bothering you—it’s your weekend.”

He waved a dismissive hand, turning to settle further into the couch as he stared at some point straight ahead of him.

“No pasa nada. I’m used to it.”

He shifted in his seat slightly, his brows furrowing, and you could tell that he was receiving an earful from Marc.

“I’m—I guess I’m sorry, mi vida, if I upset you.”

You shook your head derisively.

“No, Jake, it’s—you’re fine. That’s what I asked you to do—treat me like any other girl.”

He let out a humorless bark of a laugh, knuckles rubbing over the stubbled skin of his jaw.

“Any other girl wouldn’t have gotten to see my bed, bebita.”

He noticed the perplexed look on your face and offered a sigh.

“It’s not...often, that I sleep with anyone like this. Usually it’s in the back of my cab, or a quick one in a closet—tienes suerte, mi vida. It’s rare they ever see me a second time.”

You felt a deep sadness wash over you at his confession. All Jake knew were rushed, meaningless hookups, no strings attached and no obligations. One and done.

“Is that why you didn’t kiss me, yesterday?”

Jake looked startled by your question, eyes widening marginally as his brows furrowed deeply. His lips set into a straight line, his jaw clenching tightly.

“I did kiss you. A lot.”

He insisted softly. You shook your head.

“No, Jake. A real kiss. You wouldn’t do it. Are—Is that not usually a part of your... you know?”

His knee began anxiously bouncing, his discomfort making itself evident to you.

“No sé. Never really thought about it before.”

You stood from the couch, and his stare followed your movements sharply as you crossed the short distance between you, stepping forward to stand between his spread legs. He looked up at you with dark, brooding eyes, uncertainty churning just beneath the surface. You slowly moved to sit on his lap, your thighs slotting on either side of his hips so you were straddling him. His hands mindlessly settled on your waist, his touch timid and delicate. Your fingers smoothed over his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you, Jake?”

His lips silently parted, a flash of fear briefly flickering over his features as he gazed up at you longingly. His nervousness was palpable, his hesitancy evident through the tension in his shoulders and the crease between his brow. He didn’t offer you a response, so you carefully began leaning your face towards him, tilting your head so your nose brushed against his. You felt his stuttering exhale fan out across your face before you finally let your lips brush over his own.

It was soft, and tentative, as if he was unsure of how to respond or worried he would somehow break you. You pressed your mouth a bit firmer to his, melding against him. You wished, hoped he could feel all your emotions come through the kiss—how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to show him that. Maybe your manifestation worked, because after his few fleeting seconds of unresponsiveness, you felt him sink into the feeling, one arm traveling from your waist up your back to cradle the back of your head in his hand.

He shifted beneath you, trying to pull you closer, as if you weren’t already on top of him. You could feel the stiffness vacate his muscles as the kiss grew feverish, desperate, his lips moving against yours hastily and messily. His free hand began to roam the expanse of your back as he pressed his torso into your own, your nose smushing against his cheek as he gripped you tighter.

He whined when your tongue swiped across the seam of his mouth, his lips immediately parting to allow you access. You dove in to taste him, the stale tobacco and faint mint of his toothpaste overtaking your senses and inebriating you with the distinctive flavor of Jake. His own tongue began to tussle with yours as he mirrored your actions, your teeth clashing messily as he all but tried to swallow you whole.

You pulled back abruptly, gasping in a breath, and his mouth chased yours in a frantic attempt to maintain contact. You felt his hips instinctually rut up against you, his hands still pulling you tightly against his body as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the scent of your soft skin.

“Slow down, Jake, take it easy.”

You placed both of your hands on either one of his shoulders and forced him to relax against the couch, his body following your guidance as he sank backwards at your request. His eyes were practically crazed, his lips swollen and ruddy as he looked up at you with a half-lidded gaze, chest heaving with panted breaths.

“Oh, hermosa.”

His muttered, his grip pulling you back to his chest as he surged forward to hungrily meet your lips again, his hands beginning to claw over every inch of your body he could reach, trying to feel all of you. You pushed him away again, more forcefully this time, and he fell backwards with a grunt.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A flicker of sadness glinted briefly in his dark eyes, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it expression, but you caught it. You offered him a soft, assuring smile, grabbing the hat from his head and tossing it to the side so you could sink your fingers into his hair. He leaned back into your touch as your nails gently scratched at his scalp, a soft, breathless moan breaking from his lips as his eyes fell shut. You leaned forward and pressed a single kiss to the exposed skin of his throat.

“Come on, handsome.”

He was reluctant to loosen his hold on you, but you reached for his hand and clutched his fingers tightly so he could still feel you touching him somewhere. You led him over to the bed, pausing at the foot of it and gesturing with a nod of your head for him to lay down. He quirked a brow at you, lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“You going to punish me for being so hard on you yesterday, bebita?”

You weren’t oblivious to the excitement that shone in his eyes—he seemed enticed by the possibility of you torturing him in a similar vein to Marc, and you figured that was some information you could keep in your back pocket for future reference.

Instead, you let out a saccharine giggle—it was sickeningly sweet, cloyingly so, and Jake might’ve gotten a toothache from the sugar if it weren’t for the softness with which you crept over his splayed-out body, sinking your front against his as you pressed a featherlight peck on his lips.

“No, Jake. Nothing like that.”

You let your weight settle onto him, straddling his lap and letting your chest fall flush against his as you kissed him again—he mouthed at you hungrily, trying to force his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance, and you gently pulled away.

“Hey, tough guy. What’s your rush?”

His brows furrowed, gaze flickering from your eyes and down to your dewy lips, his pupils blown wide. You smiled sweetly at him.

“Slow down, okay? There’s no hurry, really. Let me just feel you.”

He blew out a huff of air before your lips were on his again, and he heeded your request, letting you take the lead as your poured all of your passion into the kiss. It was slow, deep, intimate, your fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt and across the hot skin of his torso, pushing the material up as you went. You slowly drew back to discard the article of clothing before immediately latching your mouth to his, slow movements still heavy and dripping with desire. You finally parted his lips with the swipe of your tongue, and you felt his fingers sink into your hair, tilting his head for a better angle with which to lavish you.

You could feel him getting greedier as he pressed his body up into your warmth, hands sliding down the expanse of your back and making a move to rip your shirt from your body. You pulled back suddenly, giving him a warning look.

“Hey. Slow.”

You reminded, and he stuttered out an exhale, his fingers gradually raising your shirt above your head as he tossed it to the side. His eyes ravished your body as his fingers traced along the newly exposed skin of your sides, his touch softly skimming your curves before coming up to cup at your breasts. You smiled sweetly down at him as he pressed a few fervent kisses to your collarbone. His dark eyes found yours, lips parted provocatively as he silently asked for your permission. You nodded gently, and his fingers trembled with restraint as he slowly reached around to unclasp your bra.

It was taking everything within his power not to flip you over and pound into you, but something about the look in your eye—reverent, devoted, loving—he didn’t mind too much.

When your breasts exposed themselves to him, he made a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat, leaning forward to latch onto one of your nipples hastily. You tugged at his hair and he groaned in frustration.

“Jake.”

You warned, and he pressed his face down into your cleavage, his breathing ragged and shallow.

“Mierda, bebita. You like being on top so much, hm? Like being in control of papi?”

You gently pulled at his curls again, forcing his face to lift and look up at you. You regarded him softly, one of your hands coming to delicately trace over his jaw and cheekbone.

“No, honey. None of that, okay?”

His brows furrowed, and you leaned down to press a kiss against the crease between them.

“It’s just you and me. Jake and Y/N.”

He repeated your name back to you in a low murmur, as if saying it for the very first time. Actually, now that you thought about it—maybe it was. Jake had never addressed you by your name before, only used endearments to speak with you.

He seemed puzzled by your suggestion, eyes round and questioning and lost, almost uncomfortable with the proposal of having you call him by his actual name.

“You can be on top if you really want to, Jake.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose, then atop both of his fluttering eyelids, then one in the center of his hairline.

“You just—have to be patient.”

You pressed your forehead against his, letting your eyes drift shut as you took in the soft sound of his breathing, finally settling down and evening out. You felt his head tilt up to meet yours again, and you let him kiss you, his pace steady and deliberate, easing you into a rhythm. His hands slowly crawled up your spine, cradling you close to him as he licked into your mouth, his hips bucking up just slightly when you gently tugged at his lower lip with your teeth. He pulled away, shaking his head at your flirtatious action and giving you a playful glare before mouthing gently at your jawline, down your neck and behind your ear. When you leaned into his touch, he sank his teeth in and suckled a deep red mark into your skin, earning a soft whimper in appreciation. His lips stayed pressed against you as they trailed down the column of your neck, along your collarbone and shoulder, and finally down to the flesh of your breasts.

You breathed out a low moan when he placed wet open-mouthed kisses along the top curves of your chest, slowly teasing lower until his teeth scraped your hardened nipple and his lips puckered around it. His hand came to palm at your other breast, kneading at the doughy flesh as he stared up at you seductively through his lashes.

“Fuck, Jake.”

You whimpered, and the sound of his name rolling so deliciously off of your tongue caused his hips to grind up against you once more. When he was satisfied with the array of red and purple marks he’d imprinted on your skin, he dragged his face back up to your own and pressed his lips to yours once again.

You were impressed with his restraint. You could feel the hardness in his muscles, see the tension in his thick shoulders as he forced himself to take his time instead of jumping your bones from the start. You hummed against his mouth before pulling yourself away and off of his lap, your fingers slowly trailing down the length of his torso before settling on the buckle of his jeans.

His breath stuttered at the action, his abdominal muscles contracting as he awaited your next move. You gently reached down to palm at his bulge through the layers of fabric and he groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut at the much needed stimulation. Your fingers deftly worked to unloop his belt before unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifted his hips to assist you in pulling them off of him.

When he was left in just his briefs, you pressed gently against his shoulder to make him lay back down and relax. He sank back into the pillows, propped up so he had a decent view of you between his legs, your fingers teasingly stroking over his length through the thin cotton of his boxers. He hissed.

“Estás una calientapollas. Please, hermosa. Y/N.”

He saw the way your eyes darted to his face at the sound of your name, your lips parting and your fingers ceasing their gentle sweeping motion over his cock. You held his gaze as you slowly reached up towards the waistband of his briefs and coaxed them down his legs, freeing his member that had been straining against the fabric.

After you’d tossed his final undergarment aside, you settled back between Jake's legs, your hands stroking each of his inner thighs softly, watching as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your left hand slowly, slowly crept upwards until it ghosted over the silky skin of his shaft, his body shuddering in response to your touch. You waited until his eyes were open again, watching you, before leaning forward and letting a pool of your saliva drip from your lips and onto his awaiting cock. He keened at the sight, his hips jerking just slightly as you finally wrapped your hand around the base and began to stroke him at a treacherously slow pace.

“Mierda. Fuck.”

He grunted quietly, trying to keep his hips still as you started to pump him a bit faster, glittering eyes staring up at him reverently. It was dizzying, the way you gazed up at him with such infatuation. It almost made him nauseous.

You slowly leaned down and licked the precum from his leaking slit before letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue languidly over the tip, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure.

You briefly pulled back to press kisses up along his entire length, coupled with soft caresses of your fingertips. It was clear to you that Jake was beginning to feel frustrated—his hands were buried in his hair, head thrown back against the bed as if attempting to subdue his desires.

You took him back into your mouth, working him slowly over with your tongue and swallowing him down bit by bit, agonizingly slow. You could feel Jake’s thighs tensing around you, his hands flying from his head to fist at the sheets on either side of his body.

When you gagged around his cock, he lost his composure. You made a startled choking sound when you felt his hand against the back of your head, pressing you down onto his length as his hips bucked up to try to sink into your throat. You immediately recoiled, and Jake nearly whined, his eyes desperately pleading with you to grant him some release. You weren’t taking any pleasure in seeing him like this—this wasn’t your end goal.

“You going to edge me like Marc, huh? Want to hear me beg?”

His voice broke off slightly, his frustrations venting through his lips as he almost glared at you. You sat up, moving to straddle his waist once more so you could press your lips to his again.

“No, Jake, I told you, I’m not. I just—Let me take care of you. Wanna show you how much you mean to me, wanna—wanna worship you, wanna make you feel good—”

His brows furrowed as you rambled slightly, your eyes big and round and glassy. He was confused—what exactly was it that you wanted from him?

“Let me fuck you, mi vida—make us both feel good with me inside you, hm?”

“No, Jake, just—hang on, that’s not—”

“Then what? Want to see if I can be as vanilla as your little Steven?”

“I want to make love with you, Jake.”

His breath resembled something of a gasp as his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, disappearing beneath his curls while his eyes widened almost comically at your hasty confession. You cringed inwardly at your forwardness, taking in the expression of sheer panic on Jake’s face that had him looking like a deer in headlights. You sighed, leaning forward to press your forehead into his chest in an attempt to hide your face from view.

“Fuck. Sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush through this. I’m sorry, I just—I want—want you to enjoy it, want you to let yourself feel it, Jake.”

You could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his lack of response smothering you after your fervent explanation. You wanted to disappear, wanted the ground to cave in and swallow you whole—instead, silence consumed you, settling across your back like a weight that you weren’t strong enough to carry.

“That’s...a new one for me.”

His voice was quiet, sheepish, and you could feel the vibrations rumbling in his chest as you lifted your head to look at him.

“I know.”

You acknowledged quietly. He was staring at you. Dark eyes searching within yours, scanning your expression, every detail of your face, as if attempting to see straight through you. Your heart was still pounding, your face rosy with an embarrassed blush—you felt his arms shift, his hand hesitantly lifting, fingers ghosting over the skin right above the waistband of your jeans at your hips, getting about as close as he could to holding you without actually touching you at all.

You’d never seen Jake Lockley at a loss for words before, and you’d certainly never seen him look so unsure. He was always so collected, nonchalant and unfazed, never dropping his guard for more than a second before that smug smirk reappeared on his face. He took things in stride, his confidence stifling as if he was always three steps ahead of the rest of the world, always knowing what came next.

But now there was vulnerability displayed across his slacken face, a certain wariness serrating his words as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, mi vida, but I don’t—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jake, really, I promise it’s okay.”

You reached up a hand to cradle the side of his face, fingers gliding across the stubble of his jaw as your thumb brushed over his cheek. His head instinctually tilted in the direction of your hold, turning to press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry. This—I don’t know what I was thinking. This isn’t fair to ask of you at all, it wasn’t a part of the deal, and—we can stop here. Let’s—just tell me where you wanna go from here and we can do it. Anything.”

You breathed, looking into his eyes, your brows furrowed in remorse as you anxiously awaited his reply. He was still just looking at you, unwavering, his chest heaving slightly with each brash exhale.

You felt his fingers skate up your bare spine and you straightened at his touch, letting him gently pull you towards him until your noses were brushing again. His gaze never left yours as he drank you in, his lips parting so you could feel his warm breath against yours. After a few more grueling beats, your pulse jumping with anticipation, his closed the gap and kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t know he even possessed. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you until they enveloped you completely, your bodies melding together as his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, although he didn’t press any further—just feeling you, tasting you, savoring the sweetness that seemed to course through your veins.

You were breathless when he pulled back, although he only recoiled just enough to speak. You could feel the movement of his lips against your face as his dark eyes burned through you.

“Hermosa, I don’t—I’ve never... Nunca he hecho esto antes.”

You knew what he was saying even if you couldn’t actually understand it. Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled softly at him, sliding your palms over his chest before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“It’s okay, honey. I—we can figure it out together.”

He blinked rapidly at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought there were tears shining across his eyes. But then he was kissing you again, so softly and sincerely that it fucking hurt.

Your body was slotted perfectly against his, flush against the contours of his current position as his hands slid up and down your spine, settling lowly on your back, just above your ass. You could feel his aching arousal pressing into your heat, rubbing against the seam of your jeans as he held you against him. You let his tongue lick inside your mouth greedily before you drew away.

“Can I—Can I keep going?”

You asked softly, grinding your clothed core up against him for emphasis. A breathy whimper fell from his lips as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before slowly nodding. You slowly crawled down the length of his body, pressing gentle kisses all the way down until you found yourself settled between his legs once again, not wasting any time in wrapping your hand around his cock and giving him a few gentle strokes. He sank into the mattress, throwing his head back into the pillows as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“You’re supposed to enjoy this, okay? But remember, this—this isn’t just about making each other cum, it’s—wanna make you feel good. We’ll take it nice and slow. You tell me when you’re ready to—when you wanna move on, and we will, okay?”

He looked down at you, his eyes still full of doubt and hesitance, but beneath the veneer you could see the warmth of trust shining through. He nodded at you reassuringly, and the soft smile he offered was one you’d never seen from him before—so genuine and credulous that it almost resembled Steven.

Without another word, you leaned forward and let the tip of your tongue trace the driblet of precome that had begun to slide down the length of his shaft. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, suckling at the flesh as your hand began to stroke him steadily, wrist twisting just slightly to maximize the stimulation.

Jake let you toy with him for awhile, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him in tight fists while he endured you doting on his throbbing cock.

When you reached to squeeze for his balls, your head sinking a bit lower onto his length, you felt his fingers wrap in your hair and gently coax you off of him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. You immediately ceased your ministrations, staring up at him attentively as he blinked slowly at you, his lip swollen from where he had been biting it.

“Do you—you want me to stop? Wanna—want me to ride you, or—”

He interrupted you with groan, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling.

“No, mi vida, it’s alright, whenever—you can stay down there as long as you like, I just—mierda, your mouth is so good to me, hermosa. Worried I’m gonna cum.”

He confessed, a sort of pained expression on his face. You gave him a pitying look—it wasn’t mocking, not at all, but genuine sympathy. You didn’t want to make him miserable.

“Just a little bit longer, okay, honey? I know it’s hard going so slow, I’m sorry, but—but I promise, when you finally let go, it’ll be worth it, okay?”

He smiled meekly at you, nodding as he removed his hand from your hair and returned it to its position tangled in the sheets at his side. You gave him one last reassuring glance before sinking your mouth back down onto his cock and lavishing him with more attention.

For several more minutes, he let you worship him, his hips jolting and cock twitching, although he was displaying great levels of restraint when it came to letting you dictate the speed and pace of your actions. You suckled one of his balls into your mouth, watching as he squirmed, legs kicking just slightly beside you as he mewled, his face scrunched up in pleasure.

You released him with a popping sound, finally satisfied with how you’d worked him up and extolled his cock. You crawled up his body and he eagerly welcomed your proximity, pulling you to his mouth to plant a hard, desperate kiss to your mouth. You smiled into him, fingers nestled in his curls.

“Thank you, Jake, did so well.”

You whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the expanse of his jaw as his chest heaved beneath you. He hummed to acknowledge your praise, although you could feel the tension in his muscles as he impatiently awaited your signal that you could continue.

When your eyes met his, they blinked at him, docile and alluring, and he took that as his cue to roll you onto your back so he could position himself on top of you. He pressed a few kisses to your mouth, as if he was struggling to pull himself away, before his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone, his hands popping the button on your jeans to finally have you bare beneath him. You didn’t protest when he pulled them down off of you, your panties joining them soon after. He leaned up to kiss you again, his rock-hard length dipping into your sopping folds as his body rocked against yours once, then twice, earning a low whimper from your throat.

“Go ahead, honey, I’m ready for you.”

You whispered, voice sweet, and he groaned lowly. However, he surprised you by pressing a soft peck to your cheek before sinking down the length of your body, his mouth trailing a line down the center of your torso before kissing right atop your pubic bone, brown eyes watching you closely. Your breath stuttered as you wrapped your fingers in his hair unconsciously.

“Jake, you’ve waited long enough, you don’t have to—”

“Wanna do this right, Y/N.”

He whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your clit, causing you to gasp.

“Make me feel so good, hermosa. Promised going slow is worth it—gonna make it worth it for you, too.”

You couldn’t dwell on the fluttering sensation in your chest when his mouth pressed against you, wet tongue meeting your dripping folds with attentiveness—you released a soft cry as he lapped at your entranced, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit gently, causing you to squirm.

Jake liked to run his mouth, but now, he was silent. It's not that he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to spur you on with filthy praise—he simply couldn’t find the words. He was absolutely hypnotized by the sight above him, bewitched by the expression of pure, unadulterated euphoria on your face at each ministration he offered. He’d never been witness to such a beautiful view before—any time he’d gone down on someone, watching their nonverbal responses to his touch simply wasn’t his priority. It had always been rushed, forceful, as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from his partner with greed and insatiability. But now—now it was you. He was in between your legs, pulling angelic sounds from your lips as your thighs quaked around his head. You were glowing, radiant, ethereal as you basked in the pleasure, and Jake finally realized why foreplay was so important—seeing you like this might be even better than the real thing.

He heeded your words. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, wasn’t speeding you towards your climax with rapid swipes of his tongue and fingers. He was savoring you, each brush of his mouth against your core was languid and indulgent. His lips puckered around your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing slow circles around it with his tongue as your fingers fisted tighter into his curls, offering enough of a sting to make him groan around you. His tongue dipped into your entrance, lapping at your dripping arousal, your walls fluttering around his thick muscle as your hips jerked to meet his thrusts, pressing yourself against his face to chase your mounting pleasure.

This was different than the orgasms he’d granted you the day prior—this was a simmering heat, coiling lowly in your stomach, festering and building slowly as he sought out the places that made you squirm. You could feel the intensity spiking, even though his lazy speed remained constant—the way his dark eyes stayed firmly fixated on your face was dragging you closer and closer to the threshold.

“Fuck, Jake, oh God—”

You whined, and his hands slipped beneath your ass, lifting your hips to grant him a better angle at which to devour you. Your thighs were trembling, his tongue beginning to swipe over your clit in rapid side-to-side motions—the change of pace pulled a ragged wail from within you, the muscles of your abdomen squeezing tight. He couldn’t control the shameful rutting of his hips into the mattress beneath him at the sound.

“So close, Jake, yes, fuck—”

You were right on the precipice, stars clouding your vision, but right before you tipped over the edge, you yanked your hips back, lifting Jake's head away from you with your grip on his hair. He jolted, hazy eyes suddenly wide and alert as he sat back, bewildered at your abrupt departure from his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm dissipated, your tense muscles sinking back into the mattress as the coil loosened itself. You breathed out lowly, your lashes fluttering as you opened your arms to pull Jake against you.

“Sorry, honey, I—so good, Jake, fuck, but I—wanna cum on your cock, wanna cum with you.”

A low groan escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes blinking closed to stave off the arousal that was singeing his insides.

“You—¿estás lista, mi vida? Are you sure?”

You nodded vigorously, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he let out a slow breath, hands sliding to your sides. Your brows furrowed when he pulled back, gently attempting to roll you onto your stomach. You reached up to grip his shoulders tightly, shaking your head.

“No, no, Jake, I want—wanna see you, wanna be close to you, please.”

There was turmoil churning behind his eyes as he stared down at you, brows furrowed heavily as he fought his internal battle. You realized he’d probably never done it like this before—if the fact that he was afraid to kiss you was any indication, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d never let himself be caught in such an intimate position.

But then his eyes softened, his hand coming to cradle the side of your face, his thumb pressing up against the swell of your lower lip.

“Okay, hermosa. Por ti hago lo que sea.”

You felt his member slide between your dripping folds, the head of his cock brushing across your clit as he guided it against your center, hearing the way your breath hitched at the feel of him over your bundle of nerves. You felt it notch at your entrance, the tip just barely breaching your folds. Jake cursed lowly under his breath, eyes glued to where his cock was about to sink into you. In spite of your desperation, your hands lifted to rest on either side of his face, forcing his eyes onto you.

“Look at me, honey. Want you to look at me when you split me open.”

“Carajo.”

He muttered, closing his eyes to steel himself before opening them again to stare into yours. You watched his lips part as he pushed into you, unbearably slow, a low moan rumbling through his diaphragm as he sank into you, only stopping when he was fully-seated within your fluttering walls.

The intimacy was stifling him. He felt lightheaded, breathless, his body hovering over yours just barely as he held himself up above you, drinking in your heavenly being—your hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath you, your pink lips slicked with saliva as your gazed up at him with doe-eyes, blinking slowly as your walls clenched around him.

“God, Jake.”

You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling so he fell against you, chest flush against your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, staying still inside of you for a few brief moments in order to just feel the way you surrounded him.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled back his hips, just barely, before pressing back inside of you, your moans echoing in unison as his balls nestled tightly against your ass again. He’d always been so busy chasing his release, relentlessly pounding into you that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate just how perfectly he filled you, just how perfectly your walls clamped around his pulsing length.

“So good, mi vida.”

He groaned against your neck, repeating the motion of his hips at a more steady pace. Each thrust pressed against your cervix, causing you to whimper.

“Fill me up so nice, Jake, fuck, feels so good.”

He felt your walls clamp around him once more, and he pulled his head back slightly, lifting himself up a bit more so he could increase the breadth of his thrusts.

“Me vas a matar.”

He growled, sucking in a breath through his teeth as one hand came to palm at your breast, his eyes glued to the way the other bounced with each push of his hips forward. His eyes drifted back to the fucked-out expression on your face, your lips parted as you stared up at him, and his hips stuttered just slightly.

God, he was close already.

“Fuck, hermosa, me arruinas.”

You could feel him faltering, a bead of sweat dripping from one of his curls and down onto your chest, sliding between your breasts and down to your stomach. He watched it dribble downward, eyes dazed, his abdomen clenching as he attempted to stave off his impending orgasm.

His hand clumsily wedged between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in crude circles, his arm trembling just slightly. Watching him grow desperate above you was enough to spark the beginnings of your climax. You pulled him down for a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you swallowed his incessant groans.

“Wan’ you to cum with me, Jake.”

Your words were drawled, drunk on the way his cock filled you, and you could feel pleasure sparking in the base of your spine. The speed of his fingers on your clit sped up slightly, his hips struggling to maintain their cadence.

“Mierda, hermosa, oh fuck, so tight—can’t, I can’t—”

“Cum inside me, Jake.”

Your words were only a whisper as you skated along the edge of your orgasm, just barely hanging on as you desperately tried to convince Jake to let go. His eyes blew open wide at your words, grunting as his hips continued jacking forward.

“Y/N, shit, don’t—I’ve never—”

“Oh, God, fuck, I’m cumming, Jake, please, please cum with me, fuck—”

He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he tried. The rhythmic pulsing of your walls around his painfully hard cock was harrowing, gripping him so tightly that he couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to.

His balls drew up tight as his climax exploded.

“Oh, me vengo—mierda, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, shit, shit, shit—”

His eyes rolled back as he nearly collapsed on top of you, his hips pistoning forward again and again as he shot his spend deep into your walls, his cock pulsing. His orgasm seemed to last minutes as his vision blacked out, brain emptying as his awareness only focused on how the pleasure zipped across his skin with each pump of cum that he released and how tightly your walls were squeezing him, milking him for all he was worth. He’d never cum so hard in his life, or so much—his seed was leaking out around his length as his body slowed to a halt, your tired cunt stuffed full of him as his cock spilled one final spurt of warm release, the head of his member settling against your cervix as he stilled, his weight bearing down on you as he went boneless.

Jake was slowly grounded back into reality at the feeling of your fingertips brushing softly across the length of his spine, your other hand buried in his curls from where his face was tucked into your shoulder. He could feel your hot lips pressed against his temple, your breathing steady and even as you regained your bearings. He forced himself to follow your inhalation patterns, attempting to slow the racing of his heart.

As the endorphins flooding his bloodstream began to thin out, his anxieties threatened to consume him once again. He pushed himself up and off of you, groaning at the soreness in his muscles and the exhaustion tingeing the edge of his movements. You could do nothing but watch him as he slowly pulled out of you, and you expected him to leave you as hastily as he had the day before—maybe he would’ve, if not for the way his eyes glued themselves to your exposed center, enthralled by the sight of his cum oozing from your fluttering hole and dripping downwards.

Your hips jumped slightly when you felt his fingers gently sweep over your cunt—his gaze never lifted as he scooped his release from where is was beginning to escape and pushed it back into you, forcing you to keep as much of him inside as you could. His eyes were dark, possessive as he tilted your hips up just slightly in an effort to stop his cum from leaking out of you.

His sudden captivation and obsession with filling you was surprising, a stark contrast from just moments before when he had desperately resisted your pleas to finish inside of you. The ghost of a smile flickered over his lips as he settled you back down, seemingly content with the show. His eyes flickered up to yours, and as soon as your gazes met, you saw the way a shadow crested his features, abruptly throwing up his guard after the unexpected vulnerability he’d just granted you.

Jake walked to the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him with a click. You pulled yourself into a sitting position, sighing as you felt the stickiness between your thighs and settling beneath you. You should clean yourself up, get dressed and head out so that—

The bathroom door swung open again and Jake walked out, a wet washcloth awkwardly held in his left hand. He stood at the end of the bed for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. His eyes hesitantly found yours.

“Do—I’m—I haven’t done this part before, mi vida.”

He quietly admitted, offering a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Still, your heart warmed at his efforts.

“Thought—figured I’d try what Marc does, but I don’t—”

“Thank you, Jake, that’s perfect.”

You encouraged softly, and his eyes lit up with your soft praises as he knelt down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to carefully press the cloth to your ruined core. You sucked in a sharp breath, the coldness of the water a foreign sensation in contrast to the heat that was broiling between your legs—Jake recoiled, eyes searching yours widely for direction. You offered him a lopsided grin.

“Sorry, s’just—sensitive.”

You explained, and he nodded, slowly wiping at the arousal that stained your skin. His lips were pursed as he focused on his actions, trying desperately not to hurt you. After awhile, he sighed.

“Would you—do you want Marc? Or Steven?”

Your face fell as he finished cleaning you up, tossing the towel on the floor beside the bed, before facing you, his curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. You frowned.

“No, Jake—not unless you don’t want to—it’s okay, I can always leave if that’s—”

He let out a humorless, bitter laugh, one hand coming up to stroke at his stubbled jaw as he stared at the ceiling, clearly uncomfortable.

“No sé lo que estoy haciendo.”

You heard him mumble breathlessly, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Do you—will you come lay with me, Jake?”

You asked softly, as if you were speaking to a wild animal and were trying desperately not to scare it away. His eyes darted to your face, lips parting to protest, to make up an excuse, but then he shook his head at himself, crawling up towards you and seating himself beside you, his back resting against the headboard. You tentatively leaned into his side, nestling your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen beside you slightly, but then his arm moved to wrap around you, pulling you closer against his side.

You felt him release a breath he’d been holding as you lifted a hand to rest on his bare chest, drawing random shapes into the warm skin mindlessly.

“Why did you think I’d want Marc or Steven?”

You asked softly, your eyes watching the movement of your fingers on his chest. His hold on you tightened.

“This—s’not my job. I don’t do things like this.”

You sat upright, turning to face him fully. His eyes were hard as they looked at you.

“What do you mean, not your job?”

His lips pursed.

“You know, hermosa. You’re the doctor, hm? Steven and me, we’re—we both do something for Marc. S’why we’re here. Marc and Steven, they—they get to feel things, know people. I’m—I’m just here to make sure they’re safe, that they don’t get hurt.”

Tears pricked behind your eyes as his words registered in your brain. There was an aching sensation festering in your chest.

“No, Jake, that’s not—that’s not how this works. You’re a person, you have every right to experience things just like they do, you’re—”

“No pasa nada. This is the way things are, hermosa. I know you thought—thought you’d be able to come and figure us out, show us what’s what, but—but I already know who I am, what part I play.”

The dejection in his voice was unmistakable. There was bitterness in his words, resentment. The pain in your chest expanded.

“I protect. That’s what I do. Means I don’t get—I don’t get to have this, mi vida. What happened today—that’t not mine.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, so you turned and sank back into his side, hoping he didn’t catch your display of emotion. In spite of himself, he let you press against him, savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his own.

You were hoping he’d open himself up to you after your intimate tryst, but you obviously misread the situation—his walls had come back up, even stronger and more unwavering than before.

Perhaps he sensed your sadness. You felt him release a long sigh, his muscles going lax as he let his head fall against the headboard.

“Lo siento, hermosa. I—you deserve better than what I can give you.”

Your head turned to gaze up at him, finding his eyes staring straight ahead at a random focal point. You felt your heart crack a bit.

“Stop, Jake, don’t say that. That’s not true, I don’t—”

“It’s okay, mi vida. I appreciate what you tried to do for me today. Significa mucho para mí.”

He swallowed, and when he finally looked down at you, the warmth he’d been unabashedly displaying for you had been replaced by the familiar austere glint that normally resided there.

No. You wouldn’t have it. Not after all of this.

Your hand reached up to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek as you turned his head to face you.

“I know you’ve heard me say it, Jake. To Marc and Steven. This wasn’t—this isn’t just research.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his eyes flickered down to your lips, and you felt the arm that was wrapped around you tighten its grip again.

“I care about you, a lot—”

“You don’t know me.”

His words were brazen, suddenly harsh, insistent against your admission. Your brows furrowed.

“I’m not—I’m not like the others. I’m—I’m no good, hermosa. You care about Steven, and Marc, but I’m not like them. I don’t feel things like them, I can’t—estás mejor sin mí.”

“Then let me know you, Jake. You’re a part of this system, just as much as Marc and Steven, and you deserve to be happy.”

He didn’t answer you—his jaw rippled at the conviction your tone offered, so certain with yourself. You let out a long sigh, reaching to pull at his arm as you shifted. His brows furrowed, but he let you coax him into a lying position, his head against the pillows as you once again nestled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as you pressed your front against his side, face squished against his shoulder. You placed a soft kiss to the skin there.

“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, okay, Jake?”

You felt his muscles tense in protest, every fiber of his being telling him to make you leave, to get up and go, but the proximity and warmth of your body was intoxicating. After a few beats, he finally offered a slow nod, his limbs relaxing as he sank into the bed. You reached to pull the duvet over you two, clutching onto him tightly, and even if he refused to hold you back, you could feel the way his body went pliant beneath your touch.

He shouldn’t let you so close. He’d managed to keep his distance before—but with the way your breaths slowed into gentle snores, your hair tickling against his bicep, your comforting heat seeping into his bones—he felt his resolve begin to crack beneath the pressure of your insistent affections.

Jake let himself mold against you, his head tilting to rest against the top of yours as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head—he told himself that it was okay, you were sleeping, no one ever had to know just how much you’d softened him, how deeply you’d sunk your perfectly-manicured nails into his flesh—and no one ever had to know just how much he loved it.

For the first time in what felt like ever, Jake Lockley actually slept.

TAGLIST: @kezibear143 @gingermous @josephquinncore @steven-grants-world @am-3-thyst @fanofverymanythings @vaneyvfs @theboggyman-blog @belladri @roserfz27 @nowayhomerry @justanotherkpopstanlol @bagsy-not-it @elles-mind-palace @pimosworld @winterbiip @moonmoonboys @icuminurbutt @spxctorsslxt @fandomqueen74 @freerangesweets @wumpsquill @wordacadabra @lunaleah @hornkneeforbucky @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @ronanthesimp @deezisnotreal @avengersinitiative2012 @pri00r @wand-erer5 @bitchotine @cookielovesbook-akie @kingtwhiddleston @manofworm @welcometostayingawake @papillonoirsworld @xsarcasticwriterx @this--is--music @paradox-brody-chase

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Autistic Spencer Reid

Happy Autism Acceptance Month, everyone! By request, my wonderful friends and I have taken on the daunting task of documenting the reasons why Spencer Reid is considered Autistic. Big thank you to you @spencer-reids-adventures and @foxy-eva specifically for their help. We hope everyone enjoys! This is not an exhaustive list.

Stimming/Self-Stimulatory behavior, including rocking/spinning in his chair, twiddling with his fingers, gripping sheets, bouncing his legs, biting his lip/tongue, rubbing his eyes, spinning pens, pacing (e.g., S6E12 "Corazon")

Averse to touch, dislikes hugs (S7E13 "Snake Eyes" & S11E11 "Entropy")

Explains multiple attempts at masking, including "being more conversational," (S2E19 "Ashes and Dust"), scripting conversation (S15E4 "Saturdays"), saying what people want to hear (S6E20 "Hanley Waters")

Verbosity - Difficulty recognizing when he's talking too much/speaking at inappropriate times (e.g., S1E16 "The Tribe" & S10E16 "Lockdown")

Began studying behavioral science to understand behavior that made him frustrated/confused (S11E22 "The Storm")

Averse to hosting/hanging out in his space; didn't invite his friends to his apartment for over 15 years (S15E9 "Face Off")

The only team member capable of proficient communication with other Autistic people (S6E16 "Coda" & S11E22 "The Storm")

He is referred to as Autistic by multiple characters, including a literal profiler, and does not deny or question it (S1E5 "Broken Mirror" & S8E3 "Through the Looking Glass")

Lack of social awareness, such as focusing on a convention while at a workplace shooter crime scene (S7E3 "Dorado Falls")

Various special interests, like Doctor Who (S6E16 "Coda" & S7E23 "Hit")

Literal thinking, such as focusing on scientific accuracy of a star-based fable (S5E13 "Risky Business")

Difficulty recognizing common phrases, such as the "sitting in a tree" song (S3E14 "Damaged") or jokes (S7E9 "Self-Fulfilling Prophecy" & S1E8 "Natural Born Killer")

Makes inappropriate references, such as to Derek's playboy behavior (S1E18 "Somebody's Watching") and Rossi's age (S7E13 "Snake Eyes")

Coordination/Spatial deficits (S1E17 "A Real Rain" & S8E6 "The Apprenticeship")

Hyperfocuses on a task to the point he doesn't notice his surroundings (S5E20 "A Thousand Words")

Unusual/hyper-specific pedantic language (S3E6 "Remembrance of Things Past")

Resistance to change, manifested as a luddite dislike of technology (S6E7 "Middle Man" & S8E4 "God Complex") and struggling with Gideon's death (S10E14 "Hero Worship")

He receives (apparent disability) accommodations to be in the field (S6E10 "What Happens At Home...")

Introverted, difficulty sharing emotions, even with his closest friends (S10E13 "Nelson's Sparrow")

Heavily bullied as a child (S3E16 "Elephant's Memory")

Difficulty making friends (S2E1 "The Fisher King Part 2")

Trouble with eye contact, which persists throughout the series

His mother is schizophrenic, which has a strong genetic link to Autism

Dislikes small talk (S8E3 “Through the Looking Glass”)

Enjoys memorizing lists (S7E11, “True Genius”)

Savant skills - eidetic memory and hyperlexia

Matthew Gray Gubler has also explained that, regardless of the canonical confirmation, he views and portrayed Spencer Reid as Autistic. Specifically, he stated:

"He's an eccentric genius, with hints of schizophrenia and minor autism, Asperger's syndrome. Reid is 24, 25 years old with three Ph.D.'s and one can't usually achieve that without some form of autism." (Note: Asperger's is an outdated term with Nazi origins, which is now referred to as a part of "Autism Spectrum Disorder" by most countries)

DISCLAIMER: I am Autistic, as diagnosed when I was a toddler. These thoughts are my own and shared for fun. If you disagree, please make your own post about it rather than posting them here. This was a labor of love for fans like me and those who love Autistic people and the characters like us. Thank you for respecting and understanding my boundaries!

Looking for more to read? Check out my Autistic headcanon posts for Penelope and Hotch!

Thank you everyone! 🌈♾️❤️

[mindblowingscience]

A landmark study has identified specific patterns of connections across the brain associated with symptoms of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder ( ADHD), highlighting the importace of considering diverse neurological functions in understanding the nature of the condition. While the study is far from unique in its attempts to identify physical characteristics of ADHD in the brain's wiring, its method does aim to improve on past efforts.

Continue Reading.

[lackablazeical]

💙🥀Leonardo Hamato🥀💙

Specific Trigger Warnings -

Stalking, harassment, manipulation, physical/mental/emotional abuse of a partner, objectification of others, threats/acts of violence, yandere-like actions and behavior, violation of consent/boundaries (specifically to actions such as hugging, kissing, snuggling, grabbing, etc.), child neglect

Specific boundaries w/ this character -

Do not glorify/romantize/endorse Leo's actions ("I wish someone cared about me this much" etc etc.)

Do not ship Leo with anyone. At all.

Do not treat Leo as 'fixable' or anything of the like, or imply that he could/should be 'forgiven'.

Do not imply romantic/sexual intention when Leo is touching someone. He just likes physical touch, that is all.

General info -

Leo's birthday is October 27th. He is a Scorpio ♏️

Leo's main love language is physical touch, but he can give love through all five.

Leo is a sex-repulsed Panromantic Vincian man. He can feel romantic attraction but only feels any type of deeper attraction/connection with non-women.

Leo has combined-type ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder).

Leo has ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder).

Personality traits -

Leo is loyal, protective, obsessive, slow-to-anger, charismatic, controlling, manipulative, forgetful, strategic, and vengeful.

Leo doesn't get angry easily. He may get annoyed, but genuine anger is rare and hard to bring out. Often, it's a build-up of small things that makes him lash out, usually violently.

Leo is extremely loyal to those he loves. He will absolutely kill and die for his family, and for Usagi. Family is the most important thing to him, and he will choose them over anything else.

Leo, as a strategist, rarely ever does things without a plan in place. While his actions may seem impulsive or non-sensical, they are often to drive people apart, cause fear/pain, etc. Leo is extremely smart, and knows how to twist situations into his favor.

Leo is a control freak. He can't stand not being in control, and will do whatever it takes to maintain the power he does have. If that means violence, then that means violence.

Leo will spiral and be sent into complete delusion and panic if he's left without affectionate physical contact for too long. He needs it to feel grounded, and he will force the contact if he must to stay sane.

Important details -

His insomnia -

Leo has extremely intense insomnia. This is a result of an error when he was mutated. Originally, Draxum intended for all the brothers to require less sleep, so they could spend more time fighting wars and such. Instead, Leo got an overdose of that specific chemical, resulting in the state we see today, whereas his brothers got off with no ill effects.

He is physically unable to sleep for around a month, but Leo is able to force himself to stay awake for just under around 3-4 months before his body begins to shut down. Leo can't control this, and he is likely to pass out mid-conversation or while doing something because of this.

This insomnia has extreme physical effects on Leo. It results in glassy vision, sluggish movement/behavior, extremely bad memory issues, delusions, inability to concentrate for very long, and carelessness. Leo also has a lower natural heart rate because of this, and his eyes strain more easily. He also has extremely shakey hands, which mostly present themselves when he is typing/drawing/writing.

Leo's siblings don't care for Leo's behavior after being rested, so they often make attempts to keep him awake/wake him up faster. Without intervention, Leo can sleep for days. With intervention, he may get 6-8 hours max.

After being freshly rested -

After Leo has recently gotten sleep, he is noticeably more helpful, respectful, withdrawn, and thoughtful. He is more likely to notice smaller details, remember things better, etc. He is also nicer, and will better listen to things like 'no'.

This state lasts around 1-3 weeks, depending on how much sleep he got previously. He may revert back to his regular behavior faster if exposed to a catalyst (someone made him angry, he gets a look/smell/taste of blood, etc.)

His relationship with Big Mama -

Leo hates Big Mama. He distrusts her and her motives, and hates how she treats Splinter, Mikey, and Donnie. Game recognizes Game, Manipulative recognizes Manipulative.

Leo keeps BM alive exclusively for Splinter and Mikey. He is willing to kill her the second either of them gives him the word.

Leo will be courteous to her if he has to be. He will accept her gifts and call her Mother, but he makes his absolute distain of her very clear. He refuses to be alone with her and will silence anyone trying to tell her personal facts about him violently.

BM was the one who gifted Leo his sword as a sort of peace offering. It didn't work, but he took it anyway. Now, he never goes anywhere without it.

Leo is very strict about BM not knowing about Usagi. He regularly threatens his and Usagi's brothers to stay quiet about Usagi, and makes it clear that it is their necks on the line if he finds out they told her. BM would use Usagi as a pawn to get Leo to listen to her, and Leo refuses to give up his control.

BM is aware of some of the other Miyamotos (specifically Kenichi, Ishida, and Riko) but does not know about Usagi specifically. She just knows that they have more siblings. She also does not know that Leo has a connection with Usagi.

Leo and BM are actually quite similar, with their controlling and manipulative natures. Never tell Leo that, though. Unless you want your head cut off.

His stalking -

Leo began stalking around 10 years old. Most of his targets would only be interests between 1-3 months, before Leo got bored/they died/etc.

Leo has had 36 victims, including Usagi.

Leo does not have a preference when he stalks. Age, gender, species, etc has no effect on who he fixates on. Though he is likely to be more violent/intense towards male/masc people if they are his current focus.

Leo typically treats any death similar to a breakup. He'll cry, stew in his feelings, etc. It annoys the hell out of his entire family. Leo often gets over it quickly.

Leo fixated on Usagi differently because he was introduced to Usagi differently. Leo actually saved him from being mugged, which is the first time Leo had ever felt like an actual hero. This sent him into a complete spiral of obsession, and now Leo only and will only ever have eyes for Usagi.

His dynamic with Usagi -

Leo is an abuser. He is Usagi's abuser. He manipulates him, physically/mentally/emotionally harms him, etc.

Leo does not insult, slap, punch, or put down Usagi. Leo is very verbally affectionate to Usagi, which is one of the reasons people do not pick up on what is really happening.

Leo will bite, shove, pin, yank, choke, throw, or restrain Usagi. He is very controlling of Usagi's movement.

Leo does not explicitly put Usagi down, but will make Usagi feel powerless, dependent, etc. As example, Leo would NEVER say "You're nothing without me", but he WOULD say "where would you be without me?"

Usagi barters time and affection with Leo to get Leo to let him do what he wants. Leo often only properly upholds these deals around half the time. This could be holding hands for 10 minutes so that Usagi can go to the store with his brothers, etc etc. Leo is very much giving "changed the terms at the last moment" vibes.

Leo would become a husk of a person if he lost Usagi. He would slaughter anyone in his way if they tried to take Usagi (except his brothers, ofc.) Everyone is very aware of the fact Leo would act out violently if Usagi tried to leave him.

This is not to say Leo will always pick Usagi. If it is a life-or-death, no other option situation, Leo will pick his family over Usagi instantly, no hesitation, nothing. He will mourn afterward, though.

Leo's favoritism -

If Leo loves someone, in his mind, they can do no wrong. He will make excuses, ignore facts, and twist the narrative to remove blame from that person. He may also find a scapegoat to blame the behavior on instead.

If two people Leo loves are fighting, he doesn't pick sides. He will completely ignore the problem and say that it doesn't matter.

Leo is very much of the opinion that 'its in the past, so it doesn't matter.' So what people say, actions they take, past trauma, etc. Doesn't matter to him. This could be contributed to his memory problems as well.

After a fight, Leo will comfort the one that he thinks is more upset, aka more 'in need of support.' Typically, this will be Usagi.

Leo's power level -

Leo is the most dangerous of his brothers, WITH his sword. He could easily take any of his brothers down with it.

Without his sword, Leo is the weakest of his brothers. Leo is not good at hand-to-hand combat, and his fighting style completely relies on his sword and portals.

Fun facts -

Leo's favorite food is candied strawberries. He loves anything sweet or fruity.

Leo loves play wrestling and will often get very invested in any fights he gets in with his brothers or Usagi.

Leo has an extremely good pain tolerance. He would be able to walk on a broken leg and barely even register it.

Leo is a mystic prodigy, and his teleporting ability is entirely self-taught. It is much more sporadic and 'glitchy' than Rise, but Leo is still able to get things where they need to go. Leo's swords can split, and be either 1 or 2 weapons. 1 sword can create solid, doorway-like portals. 2 swords mean Leo can teleport between them, if he throws or embeds them in something.

Leo loves pop music, as well as 60s-90s Spanish music. He has an antique radio that he loves to listen to. Leo will also listen to rap/dubstep/hip-hop for Mikey and Don.

Leo loves rom-coms, and that is where Leo gets most of his ideas of love/romance from. He does not watch good rom-coms.

Leo babies his brothers quite a lot, but it is out of genuine care and adoration.

Tags that include Leo -

#addams! Leo, #addams! Leosagi, #addams! Hamatos, #addams! Disaster twins

[offender42085]

Post 1274

Tristan Brian Stahley, Pennsylvania inmate LV4082, born 1996, incarceration intake December 2014 at age 18, sentenced to life

Murder

In December 2014, determining a teenager continues to pose a danger to society, a judge has sentenced the teen to life imprisonment, without the possibility of parole, for fatally stabbing his girlfriend.

“He does pose a threat and a continual threat if not incarcerated,” Montgomery County Judge William R. Carpenter said as he imposed the life prison sentence against 18-year-old Tristan Brian Stahley, who three months earlier was convicted of first-degree murder in connection with the May 2013, stabbing death of 17-year-old Julianne Siller, of Royersford.

Grieving teenagers, friends of Siller who packed the courtroom, applauded the judge’s decision after an emotional hearing at which they tearfully told the judge they were devastated by Siller’s death.

Stahley said nothing as he was led from the courtroom under heavy guard by county sheriff’s deputies. He briefly apologized to Siller’s family in the courtroom before learning his fate.

The judge convicted Stahley, who was 16 at the time of the killing, of first-degree murder, which is an intentional killing, during a nonjury trial. Prosecutors said Stahley killed Siller because she wanted to break off their relationship.

Stahley was charged as an adult because of the violent nature of the crime. However, because he was 16 at the time of the killing, under recent changes in state law, Stahley did not face an automatic life sentence for the first-degree murder conviction but rather a sentence of between 35 years and life imprisonment.

Testimony revealed Stahley told officials during a presentence evaluation, “When I get mad I get even” and communicated that he enjoyed starting fights. Stahley exhibited homicidal thoughts, including sending Siller a text message, a month before the murder, expressing that he would kill her if she cheated on him, according to testimony.

But his defense lawyer argued against a life prison sentence for Stahley, maintaining Stahley was remorseful. Dr. Steven Samuel, a forensic psychologist who evaluated Stahley for the defense, testified Stahley was immature, had a below average IQ and suffered from attention deficit disorder and at 16 could not handle rejection.

After the killing, Stahley returned home and threatened to kill himself with a knife after confessing to his mother. Stahley’s father attempted to stop his son from committing suicide and struggled with the teen, suffering scratches to his face and a bite to his hand in the process, according to the arrest affidavit.

State police responded to the Stahley home for a report of a domestic disturbance and diffused the struggle between father and son. At that time, Stahley confessed to police and led troopers to Siller’s body.

4u

[disabilities-disabilities]

Disabilities refer to impairments that may limit a person's physical, cognitive, sensory, or mental abilities to perform tasks or participate fully in everyday life. Disabilities can vary widely in nature and severity, and they can be temporary or permanent. Here are some common types of disabilities:

Physical disabilities: These involve impairments that affect mobility or physical functioning, such as paralysis, limb loss, or muscular dystrophy.

Sensory disabilities: These include impairments related to sight, hearing, or both. Blindness, low vision, deafness, and hearing loss fall into this category.

Cognitive disabilities: These affect cognitive functions, such as learning, memory, problem-solving, and comprehension. Conditions like dyslexia, ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder), and intellectual disabilities are examples.

Psychiatric or mental health disabilities: These involve conditions that affect a person's mental well-being and functioning, such as depression, anxiety disorders, bipolar disorder, and schizophrenia.

Developmental disabilities: These typically manifest during infancy or childhood and impact physical, learning, language, or behavior development. Examples include autism spectrum disorder and Down syndrome.

Chronic illnesses: While not always considered disabilities in the traditional sense, chronic illnesses such as diabetes, multiple sclerosis, and fibromyalgia can significantly impact a person's daily life and functioning.

Acquired disabilities: These result from injury, illness, or other factors later in life, such as traumatic brain injury (TBI), stroke, or spinal cord injury.

It's important to recognize that each individual's experience of disability is unique, and it's essential to consider their specific abilities, challenges, and needs. Additionally, the concept of disability is evolving, with a growing emphasis on accessibility, inclusion, and the social model of disability, which focuses on removing barriers to participation rather than just addressing impairments.

[loving-n0t-heyting]

“Oh, these drugs will alter my brain? Well so does eating and breathing! Ha ha ha!”

If your food gives you cognitive deficits and motor disorders that escalate into permanent neurological disabilities if left unabated, you should in fact start seriously considering alternative diets. If the only reasons to object to daily doses of “Potion of painfully fucks over yr motor control and ability to have abstract thought” are abject deference to the natural order, that’s a pretty compelling point in favour of abject deference to the natural order! Bc routinely sabotaging yr ability to organise yr thoughts and muscles is in fact pretty obviously fucked up. These are the “brain alterations” ppl talk about when they warn about antipsychotic side effects! If you take the neurological damage of “long covid” seriously enough to take extensive precautions, you should be taking these pretty seriously as well!

It’s sort of stomach-churning the way in which these allegedly progressive ppl will start talking about pills with language ripped from soulless ratchedesque bureaucrats at state hospitals. “I simply do not understand medication resistance!” You realise these are the same words ppl use to justify strapping down inmates convicted of no crime to inject them with haldol while they scream for mercy, yes? This doesn’t perturb you? You do not get an inkling, even a faint little glimmer, of “Are we the baddies?”?

[cowchickenbeefpork]

How does the craving/yearning correlate to the NPD and BPD for Oswald and Edward? Mostly curious for your thoughts about it

tbh that tag was me going insane I don't fully agree with it now per se. I don't like the original post I made where I compared them to yearning and craving because I compared their relationship to that instead of who they are as people, which was my thought process. I'm not sure if I was right about yearning and borderline idealization, but i do think i was right about craving and narcissism (btw I only made that post because i was watching Contrapoints video about the fucking TWILIGHT books, and since i have the intelligence of a mere banana I connected her opinions on yearning and craving back to nygmobblepot and mental disorders because that is how I show my appreciation to anything I find cool. keep in mind the definition I am using here is stolen from her and she took notes from Shakespeare, Taylor Swift, twilight as previously mentioned, and SEINFELD FOR HER THOUGHTS. Still, she is a great YouTuber go watch her she is one of my favorites.)

what I'm considering craving as definition wise is a desire that can be satisfied but only for a moment, constantly needing to be refilled. its like craving drinking or eating, it will satisfy you but you will constantly need to do it over and over and over in your life, it can be fulfilled unlike yearning but never for long, you will always need to refill it since it will never stick. craving is also less personal than yearning since it doesn't acknowledge something is deeply missing, it provides a temporary solution for something that will which makes craving end up resembling more so something like lust instead of limerence

i view narcissistic supply similarly to this. narcissism as a disorder is just trying to keep your false self up, it can be satisfied for a while but it will always still need to be refilled because of the fact its not a genuine love for yourself. narcissism is like having an addiction to feeling special in a way, that's why the craving for admiration never stops, because since they don't naturally feel content about themselves, narcissism as a coping mechanism works as tricking both the self and others that false, idealized self is real. the craving itself is a cope to hide the yearning in a way, the craving here only exists because of a deeper deficit. edward is not aware that he yearns for love and admiration, he thinks that he can just get a bit of it and be content forever, but he wont. ( fun fact the false grandiose self is actually the main difference in bpd and npd, they do have alot of simliarties like projection and splitting and a want for admiration and love but borderlines dont have that false idealized grandiose self unless they also have npd on top of their bpd. this is probablyyyy why borderlines are more easier to maniuplate since narcissistic defendses are stronger and more durable than borderline ones, there is a reason borderlines often split on themselves while narcissists don't that much)

yearning is wanting your other half, it's wanting to inherently fill out that incomplete part of yourself. You could make a connection between BPD and yearning since things like idealization and chronic feelings of emptiness but I feel less confident in this one. the yearning will also never be fulfilled just like the craving is, Oswald thinks that he will feel fine when he finally gets it but his idea of love is idealized. That version of love he craves does not exist since love requires effort and work, and even if it did he would still fail at it because of his cannibalistic nature when it comes to love, nothing is enough for him, he will hold unto someone until their bones break. that cannibalistic desire ends up becoming similar to the craving in my head a little, because nothing will be enough. he also uses people to bring himself up ego but doesn't want to reflect on how his actions are selfish, pretty much downplaying or playing victim about it and acting like he is not as bad as the other criminals are ( both of them do this, to be honest, I would say it is different but not really besides which one plays up the other as a irrational fool more than a malicious monster out to get them and vise versa, they devalue and demonize each other in the same ways; both feel like the other just lied about ever caring for them)

basically what I am getting at here is ed thinks that he can just get his needs met if he does things that will only satisfy him temporally ( since he's a "cold logician MY ASS) and will not stop the constant, unaware yearning for genuine love while Oswald thinks he will be satisfied if he gets that, when he won't, he will want more and more until there is nothing left but bones. Oswald thinks his desire could be fulfilled perfectly if he just met the right person but no one will satisfy that hunger, he pretends he does not crave like Edward does but he still does. both of them have the same problems but both of them try to hide them differently and express them differently, edward is more ashamed looking like he is irrational and Oswald is more ashamed of being SEEN as a monster. ( neither of them like being viewed like that but both of them clearly have a preference for a different insult, edward just convinces himself that they are basically just ants who don't know better and oswald goes by a more the ends justify the means approach, edward does want to be loved and admired but he thinks that is not possible in the more traditional oswald way, so he does a bunch of crime shit instead to prove how smart he is and to get that love and admiration)

edward has the same yearning as Oswald but he pretends he doesn't, Oswald has the same craves as edward does but pretends he doesn't

[shamandrummer]

Healing with Acoustic Resonance

Drumming is a profound way to promote healing. Through acoustic resonance, drumming helps restore the vibrational integrity of body, mind, and spirit. Acoustic resonance is the ability of a sound wave to impart its energy to a substance such as air, wood, metal, or the human body, making it vibrate in sympathy. For example, when you tap a tuning fork in proximity to another one of the same tone, both will vibrate. Acoustic resonance is an important consideration for instrument builders, as most acoustic instruments use resonators, such as the strings and body of a violin, the length of tube in a flute, and the shape of a drum membrane. A single-headed frame or hoop drum works best for acoustic resonance healing--the larger the drum, the greater the resonance.

The drum is a powerful tool for healing. As we play the drum, the drum then plays our bodies. The various frequencies of the drum interact with our own resonant frequencies, forming new harmonic alignments. Through the natural law of resonance, the sound waves produced by the drum impart their energy to the resonating systems of the body, mind and spirit, making them vibrate in sympathy. When we drum, our living flesh, brainwaves and spiritual energy centers entrain or synchronize to the sound waves and rhythms. This sympathetic resonance has the following key effects:

It produces deeper self-awareness by inducing synchronous brain activity. Research has demonstrated that the physical transmission of rhythmic energy to the brain synchronizes the two cerebral hemispheres. When the logical left hemisphere and the intuitive right hemisphere begin to pulsate in harmony, the inner guidance of intuitive knowing can then flow unimpeded into conscious awareness. The ability to access unconscious information through symbols and imagery facilitates psychological integration and a reintegration of self. Drumming also synchronizes the frontal and lower areas of the brain, integrating nonverbal information from lower brain structures into the frontal cortex, producing feelings of insight, understanding, integration, certainty, conviction, and truth, which surpass ordinary understandings and tend to persist long after the experience, often providing foundational insights for religious and cultural traditions.

It releases negative feelings, blockages, and emotional trauma. Drumming can help people express and address emotional issues. Unexpressed feelings and emotions can form energy blockages. The physical stimulation of drumming removes blockages and produces emotional release. Sound vibrations resonate through every cell in the body, stimulating the release of negative cellular memories.

It accesses the entire brain. The reason rhythm is such a powerful tool is that it permeates the entire brain. Vision for example is in one part of the brain, speech another, but acoustic resonance penetrates the whole brain. The sound of drumming generates dynamic neuronal connections in all parts of the brain even where there is significant damage or impairment such as in Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). According to Michael Thaut, director of Colorado State University's Center for Biomedical Research in Music, "Rhythmic cues can help retrain the brain after a stroke or other neurological impairment, as with Parkinson’s patients…." The more connections that can be made within the brain, the more integrated our experiences become.

It induces natural altered states of consciousness. Rhythmic drumming induces altered states, which have a wide range of therapeutic applications. A landmark study by Barry Quinn, Ph.D. demonstrates that even a brief drumming session can double alpha brain wave activity, dramatically reducing stress. The brain changes from Beta waves (focused concentration and activity) to Alpha waves (calm and relaxed), producing feelings of euphoria and well-being. Alpha activity is associated with meditation, shamanic trance, and integrative modes of consciousness.

It helps us to experience being in resonance with the natural rhythms of life. Rhythm and resonance order the natural world. Dissonance and disharmony arise only when we limit our capacity to resonate totally and completely with the rhythms of life. The origin of the word rhythm is Greek meaning "to flow." We can learn to flow with the rhythms of life by simply learning to feel the beat, pulse, or groove while drumming. When drummers feel this rhythmic flow, especially at a slower, steady beat, they can shift into a state of deep relaxation and expanded awareness. It is a way of bringing the essential self into accord with the flow of a dynamic, interrelated universe, helping us feel connected rather than isolated and estranged.

[mischiefmanifold]

How Do My Autism, PDs, and DID Interact/Intertwine?

Disorders mentioned in this post: autism spectrum disorder (ASD), attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), tourette syndrome (TS), fetal alcohol spectrum disorder (FASD), dissociative identity disorder (DID), antisocial personality disorder (ASPD), narcissistic personality disorder (NPD), and schizotypal personality disorder (STPD)

(This post was requested by a mutual, I hope you find this (somewhat) helpful and I apologize for taking a million years to post it 🙃)

I have a whole host of disorders, pretty much all of which affect my personality, identity, and way I interact with the world around me. A lot of people look at the combinations of disorders I have and tell me I can't possibly have them (this is especially popular with autism and ASPD, as well as autism and STPD), when I do in fact have them and they suck ass.

To begin with, since I have DID, my other disorders vary drastically in symptoms from alter to alter. It is important to note that individuals with DID will likely only be diagnosed with other disorders alongside DID if most or all of the frequently fronting alters show symptoms and those symptoms impair the whole. Disorders like autism, Tourette, ADHD, and FASD are system-wide disorders due to the nature of their development. Personality disorders are usually diagnosed at the discretion of the therapist or psychiatrist who is doing the diagnosis.

My combination of autism, NPD, and ASPD resulted in an individual who lacks essentially all empathy, is very isolated, and is really sensitive to perceived slights or criticisms.

I have the psychopathic subtype of ASPD, which means that even if I didn't have NPD I would have narcissistic traits. Alongside heightened NPD traits, I am also more prone to violence and aggression (it is important to note that most psychopaths and individuals with ASPD are not criminals or extremely aggressive). Features of psychopathy that I display are typical antisocial behaviors (disregard for societal norms and rules, essentially), increased aggression and violence, lack of empathy and remorse/guilt, and manipulative and deceitful behaviors.

When it comes to autism and ASPD, the only real trait my presentation has in common is a lack of empathy. Communication problems can arise for individuals who have both disorders, but for different reasons (my ASPD communication problems are almost exclusively related to my disregard for others and lack of remorse; while my autistic communication problems stem from a fundamental misunderstanding of social norms, sarcasm, facial expressions, gestures, and figurative language). Individuals who have ASPD will not experience any developmental delays like autism (delayed speech, social ineptitude, etc.).

My ASPD and NPD go hand-in-hand pretty well. The earliest memory I have of exhibiting antisocial behaviors is at age 8 when I would repeatedly steal candy from my friend's school locker because I felt I deserved it more than her; the theft just escalated from there. I was very good at getting people angry with me so I could take out my anger on them.

I don't feel that my autism and NPD really have that much in common, honestly.

If you would like to learn more about ASPD, its history, and the psychopathic subtype of ASPD, please visit this site: https://psychopathyis.org/what-is-a-psychopath/

[transmutationisms]

If the biopsychsocial disease model is ontologically and epistemically dubious, tautological and smuggling moralizing language into seemingly descriptive statements, what other ways are there to understand "disease"? Can parts of medicalized language still be utilized by stripping them of this baggage, or is it a fool's errand?

im assuming this is in response to what i said about the biopsychosocial model wrt eating disorders. mostly what i meant in those tags was that i don't find bps to be a sufficient response or correction to the issues with the biomedical model where psychiatric diagnoses are concerned. this is for numerous reasons including that bps is chronically philosophically eclectic and predominantly dualist epistemologically; s nassir ghaemi has written on this.

anyway, the question to me would be: why would we want to use medicine's discourses in understanding 'eating disorders'? which terms, and to what ends? these are complex presentations because, obviously, there are serious physical complications from behaviours like food restriction and purging. so my point here isn't that it's not useful to talk about medical issues in medical language. (jennifer gaudiani's book 'sick enough' is a pretty good starter resource for patients on the medical complications of ed's, and the physician's concerns in treating them.)

rather, with the 'eating disorder' diagnoses, we're also dealing with the underlying desires and intentions that cause the food/body behaviours in question. although energy deprivation itself can and does intensify such desires/thought cycles, the vast majority of eating disorders do involve some degree of voluntary action and can't be resolved solely through physical treatment of malnutrition/starvation/ etc. on a disease model of eating disorders, the desire to starve/purge/etc is essentially a foreign intrusion on the sufferer's newly 'unhealthy' mind; some doctors will even go so far as to talk about the patient as 'split' into two people: the sick person, and the healthy one. the treatment modality here assumes that the goal is to expel or overcome 'the eating disorder thoughts', restoring the person to a 'normal', 'healthy' baseline.

i know that some people with these diagnoses find this ^^ narrative personally helpful and i don't wish to take that away from them. nevertheless, i believe it's insufficient and actively harmful to some people. it doesn't look at, for instance, the economic and social effects of weight stigma, something that makes 'disordered eating' appear a lot less disordered and a lot more rational and socially normative/enforced. the narrative also does a poor job, if any, of understanding food restriction/purging/etc as ways to manage stress/anxiety/etc, making the 'eating disorder' appear to be not so much an outside forceor attacker, but rather a person's best (though harmful!) tool for self-care. fundamentally the assumption in the above narrative is basically that no self-endangering desire could ever be 'native' to the psyche, that it must originate from elsewhere, and that a person can't truly desire two contradictory things or defend two contradictory interests. i don't find these assumptions to be true or useful (for ed's or for things like self-injury). these are incredibly bold assumptions to make about psychological 'normality' and 'health', and openly pathologise and stigmatise people who do experience such dangerous, harmful desires (and act on them). it's not helpful to sufferers; it's very helpful to the psychiatric establishment.

again, eating disorders are complicated by the fact that an energy deficit itself does have psychological-physiological effects on the bodymind; i don't deny that dialectical nature of the condition. and obviously medical care can be lifesaving when dealing with the physical complications, and everyone ought to have autonomous, freely chosen access to such care. i simply don't think that reducing the entire 'eating disorder' to a disease model (and bps basically also does this, just with the addition of 'factors' from social/psychological sources) is useful or sufficient for understanding or recovering from them.

[lilysaus]

okay. this fucking picture made me so mad i went on a 15 minute rant to my sister while she was trying to read her book.

so ive been looking at a lot of pictures of posts on pinterest because thats just where i spend most of my time. most of these posts are on the topic of adhd. ive never been properly diagnosed, but reading through these posts has made me feel so welcomed and understood (more than my parents have made me feel, pretending that this is "all just a phase that ill get over soon because pretending to have adhd is just the thing right now") that i realized ON MY OWN that "hey maybe i do have adhd." well.

i found this post while scrolling through pinterest, and it really sparked my anger.

i have a friend who was diagnosed with add before it was considered an "outdated" term and scrapped because apparently ALL FUCKING FORMS OF NEURODIVERGENCY THAT ARENT AUTISM ARE JUST "ADHD".

i read this post and it was what sparked my anger and my 15 minute rant to my sister. people who get degrees in this stuff, or counselors at schools, never really know what youre going through. all they know is that youre having some problems and they need to be solved.

which brings me back to this picture. if you look up "is add still a thing" on google, this is the first picture to pop up. and just seeing the visual aids they put with it makes me furious enough to throw something or someone out a fifth story window. the little girl is fucking SMILING while thinking about the most common shit people think us neurodivergent folks think when distracted. first off, no. false. we dont just think of video games and candy. we think of the randomest shit possible, like how long can i sit here without blinking or what kind of funny shit can i draw on this one sheet of paper.

and ALSO.

you cant just categorize adhd as TWO SEPARATE THINGS and call it good. we dont fit under two umbrellas. theres too many of us. we each have our own figurative umbrellas that only we ourselves can fit under, no one else. thats the problem with neurotypicals. they fit the typical stereotype for humans: we try to understand everything by putting it in a box. those lists of "symptoms"? i match every single one. on both sides. so ha. take that SCIENTISTS. what am i? some kind of freak of nature because i dont fit under just ONE of your precious categories?

i also looked up what "inattentive" means and it made me angrier. according to oxford languages, "inattentive" means "not paying attention to something", which doesnt seem too bad, right? it fits some people perfectly with their symptoms, right? but its not the definition that bugs me. its the example sentence thats used. "a particularly dull and inattentive student". basically saying that if you dont pay attention well to something, youre dull and boring.

im sorry, what? sometimes i have trouble paying attention, sure, but you ask any of my friends and they can agree i am NOT boring in any way, shape, or form. non of them would describe me as "dull". inattentive? sure, but not dull. so to call it "inattentive" adhd, instead of just add, is stupid! my friend with ADD (not fucking adhd, stupid scientists) is one of the funniest, most entertaining people ive ever met. shes an incredible artist, super smart, and knows how to make anyone laugh. does that sound dull to you? does she have problems focusing sometimes? yes. does she struggle with doing something sometimes? yes. but dont the rest of us?

my point is, when i see things like this, it pisses me off. like, unless all of the scientists who agreed "add" is an outdated term have it themselves, i refuse to believe its outdated and i will continue to say that my friend has it. she was literally diagnosed by the doctor telling her "you have attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder without the hyperactivity." THATS JUST FUCKING ATTENTION DEFICIT DISORDER YOU DUMBASS!!!

anyway, i hope im not the only one who feels this way. i just felt it necessary to get this out there. maybe someday, people wont be so dumb and single minded. in my opinion, neurodivergent people are superior in intellect and creativity, but i guess until someone like that takes over the world and dropkicks neurotypicals into the stratosphere, we'll never know.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Christina Buttons

Published: Jun 11, 2024

A groundbreaking new study on insurance data suggests that the majority of German youth do not persist in their transgender identity after five years.

A new long-term study from Germany has found that a clear majority of young people diagnosed with gender identity disorders do not continue to identify as such over time. The study examined insurance data over five years, revealing that more than half of young people aged 5-24 across every age subgroup diagnosed with "gender identity disorder" no longer had the diagnosis after five years. Specifically, the desistance rate was 72.7% in 15- to 19-year-old females and 50.3% in 20- to 24-year-old males. Among the whole group of 5- to 24-year-olds, only about 36.4% of those diagnosed in 2017 still had the diagnosis five years later, indicating that more than 63% desisted. 

One of the strengths of this study is its comprehensive collection of outpatient billing data for all legally insured persons in Germany, providing a large and representative sample. Additionally, the long observation period from 2013 to 2022 offers valuable insights into long-term trends and changes in diagnosis rates.

The research also noted a dramatic rise in the number of young people being diagnosed with gender identity disorders. In 2013, there were 22.5 cases per 100,000 insured young people, but by 2022, this had increased to 175.7 cases per 100,000, representing an increase of nearly 681%. The study highlighted that, in almost all years, the highest prevalence of gender identity disorder diagnoses was found in 15- to 19-year-old females. In 2022, this age group had a prevalence rate of 452.6 cases per 100,000.

[ “W 15-19 J.” (females aged 15-19) represents the highest overall rate of increase ]

The study also found that a large majority of those diagnosed with gender identity disorders had other mental health conditions. In 2022, 72.4% of individuals with a gender identity disorder diagnosis had at least one other psychiatric diagnosis. The most common co-occurring mental health issues included depressive disorders (affecting about 57.5% of females and 49.3% of males), anxiety disorders (34% of females and 23.5% of males), and borderline personality disorders (17.6% of females and 12.1% of males). Other frequent conditions were attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

The researchers highlighted the "fluid" nature of gender identity during childhood and adolescence as a likely reason for the high desistance rates. Citing the U.K.’s Cass Review, the authors suggested the need for a comprehensive, standardized diagnostic procedure for youth experiencing gender-related distress.

The study suggests that many young people might resolve their gender incongruence without needing long-term medical treatment. The authors call for careful consideration when recommending “gender-affirming” treatments for adolescents, given the high likelihood that their “gender identity” may change over time.

This new study aligns with recent findings from a long-term Dutch study, which found that the majority of adolescents expressing a desire to be the opposite sex no longer felt that way in adulthood. This adds to a growing body of research showing that gender dissatisfaction in adolescence is often temporary and declines with age.

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Study: