#like SERIOUSLY this healthcare is SO fucked up. i straight up do not give a flying fuck if 'rare uwu' i'll fucking make it sk

[bolshefem]

if you think people are more empathetic to women than men you are straight up fucking delusional. men have proved themself almost INCAPABLE of empathy for women, and this is statistically and empirically supported. they are incapable of understanding that women have an internal life, do not see us as humans with emotions who exist external to them. look at the comments on a post of a man talking about self harm vs a woman. "men's mental health matters too🥺" "I'm proud of you" vs "attention whore" "sideways for attention downwards for results" "ugly bitch trying to get sympathy"

this is what happens for ANYTHING regarding sexual assault, mental health, suffering, trauma.

or an overweight man vs woman "keep your head up king👑" "you got this bro, I believe in you" "these women don't deserve you." (like totally unprompted not discussing relationships) Or often no comments on his weight at all if he's not talking about it. For a woman, no matter WHAT she is posting about "landwhale" "starve yourself" "put down the burger" "kys fat b*tch" and the most vile and insanely cruel comments The amount of threads and forums dedicated to eviscerating degrading and insulting overweight women on places like lolcow and kiwi farms and just social media in general and I genuinely have never seen one for a man. Same thing with things like facial deformities, the comments are unbelievably cruel to these women.

the level of vitriol is not even remotely comparable, and I don't even think it's mostly a double standard. I think they just lack the capacity to feel empathy towards women and perceive them as human and capable of feeling pain. Things are solely perceived in how they relate to them and thought to be performances for men. Women exist to serve them and if they don't give them a boner they don't deserve to be alive. If something, no matter how innocuous, pisses them off in the slightest they don't have a single qualm because they just don't view them as real people and full human beings with internal lives. women having emotions is inherently manipulative, anything they say or do is a performance for men. And like look at things such as the gender credibility gap https://www.tedxmilehigh.com/gender-credibility-gap/ Women are systematically less believed as witnesses in a courtroom, reporters, academic authorities, in claims of sexual assault, discrimination, or harassment.*

Women's reports of pain symptoms are less likely to be believed by doctors, and they are staggering more likely to not receive proper medication, go undiagnosed and untreated. Women are 32% more likely to die post-op if their surgeon is a man. "Womens' pain not taken as seriously as mens' pain. Researchers found that when male and female patients expressed the same amount of pain, observers viewed female patients' pain as less intense "(sciencedaily.com/releases/2021/04/210406164124.htm) "Nearly three-quarters of cases where a disease primarily affects one gender, the so-called “men's diseases” are overfunded, while the “women's diseases” are dramatically underfunded."

https://www.concernusa.org/story/gender-bias-in-healthcare/ https://www.washingtonpost.com/wellness/interactive/2022/women-pain-gender-bias-doctors/ https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/gender-bias-in-medical-diagnosis#how-does-it-affect-diagnosis https://www.health.harvard.edu/blog/women-and-pain-disparities-in-experience-and-treatment-2017100912562 I could literally go on on this topic forever. The gender empathy gap is a form of epistemic violence against women.

* "Suicidal behaviour and self-harm in women can be viewed by family, health professionals and the community as attention-seeking, manipulative and non-serious, which can negatively influence how young women are treated." (Curtis, 2016) *Men with overweight tend to be perceived as wise or experienced, while women's credibility tends to decrease with excess weight... women seem to experience higher levels of weight stigmatization than men, even at lower levels of excess weight (Flint et al., 2016)

*Women are at greater risk for weight/height discrimination than men (Puhl et al, 2008)

*so many papers on this but "Across the board, women are perceived to be less credible than men. Especially women’s testimonies of rape and sexual harassment are widely trivialized and disregarded, even though reports of sexual abuse are not more likely to be false than reports of other crimes" (Schreurs, 2020) more like Mack, 1993

#RAMBLE #this was supposed to be like two paragraphs #sorry for the mess but worth a read

[obstinatecondolement]

Update from the GI bullshit mines (cw weight loss, illness, fatphobia, non-graphic discussion of bowel issues)

So I haven't been weighing myself, but my family has said that it looks like I am losing weight, which is kind of worrying as it might mean that food is just going straight through me without my body being able to wring much out of it. I do have a long way to go before I'd be in any danger of becoming underweight, which is good, but it's still not a great sign to be losing weight from illness for fat people even if it doesn't have all the same risks that people who don't have any kind of a buffer who get sick and lose weight face.

It also has the potential risk of not being taken seriously because people providing my medical care might think it's fine, nay good, for fat people to lose weight for any reason, of course, but I don't think my usual GP is like that. He's never done the "well, you're fat" thing about any health problems I've had and has always been good about referring me for tests and stuff proactively to rule things out without me having to be up on all this stuff and hold him to ransom to give me adequate healthcare, and has never told me to lose weight, or even brought my weight up if I didn't first. So, from that point of view, I don't think that's something I have to worry about at least from my primary care provider and that is reassuring.

I am still not sure if I have a viral or bacterial gastic infection, or if this is a worsening of the ongoing gut issues I've been having for most of this year that might be IBS or some other underlying undiagnosed issue that I need to have investigated, but I have been so sick for so long now. It is really impacting my quality of life and ability to like... do anything. Including leave the house, because there are multiple several hour periods a day where I have to urgently get to a bathroom every five minutes right now.

I need to go back to the doctor, because I do have an appointment in two weeks to follow up about the acid reflux, but I don't think that I can go on that long like this without any kind of medical intervention. The idea last time was that if I hadn't improved enough on the medication I was on I might need a diagnostic endoscope, but I think I may also need to be referred for a colonoscopy at this point. I don't know if this is a holistic problem that's causing issues on both ends, or if I have stomach problems that are separate from issues with my intestines and/or colon, but... this is so unsustainable. At the very least a doctor needs to be Aware of what's going on with me right now.

I didn't mention the IBS(?) stuff much last time I saw the GP, because I was mostly seeing him about respiratory symptoms and I only just remembered to mention the reflux and then that became the main focus of the appointment. But like... yeah. If I have fucking Crohn's or something I need to know that.

[elfyprincess]

I was getting my period every other week for a while and the doctors just put me on birth control. But now I’ve been on my period for two weeks, and they told me they were going to wait three months before suspecting anything is wrong. I asked the doctor if I’m supposed to just bleed for three months straight and she wouldn’t fucking answer me. Then she tried to pull the “we’ll do a pregnancy test” bull shit. Unless I’m the Virgin fucking Mary and my child is Jesus fucking Christ, I am not pregnant. My mom basically had to demand she give me an ultrasound. She kept telling me “complications are rare in younger women.” (So they didn’t even want to look ???) And if “complications are rare” then what the fuck is going on ???

I have an ultrasound next week, but I’m scared nothing will show up & that they’ll just keep brushing me off. I almost want something to be wrong so they’ll start taking me seriously.

I knew women’s healthcare sucked but I never thought it was this bad. Something is obviously wrong and they either don’t believe me, don’t think it’s serious, or just flat out don’t know what to do.

The doctor offered to put me on different forms of birth control & I told her I just wanted to stop bleeding. And she made me feel stupid by saying, “there’s no one pill that will make you stop bleeding.” WELL THEN CAN YOU PLEASE TRY AND FIGURE OUT WHAT’S WRONG ??? I’m sobbing right now because they’re making me feel stupid and dramatic. But I feel like something is so obviously wrong & nobody cares.

#feminism #feminist #personal #radical feminst #radical feminsm #womens health #healthcare #radfem #terf diaries

[lonespektr]

OCTOBER 7TH HORROR WATCH

The Lure (2015)

I missed this one at a film festival when it first came out and that was apparently quite a while ago

And were in. Siren song.

Help us on shore, we won't eat you. Totes swear

Does not work on women.

Another song, synth pop is this euro synth pop?

Is this European healthcare???

Your boss says to your face go home if you have a cold, don't spread it around???

Is this how normal people live???

Grappa?

Send the minors home?

Strip the minors

They are Barbie doll smooth with no booty cracks

Hypersexualizing the juveniles without sex organs

Oh no wait they have found them and are molesting them great👍

The boys on the beach are band members for this strip??? Bar?? It's like drag club

Okay

Now the girls are suffocating on the floor after being molested

Tossed into the pool, which I'm guessing is not salt water

Golden & silver

But the pool helped

The casual misogyny is....high

SA'd tossed like a rag doll

Ok full dance number in the mall with their advance

Shopping

And the song is like a sitcom , narrating the story

Close up cuts remain on their very black

Pupil-less very predatory eyes throughout

There are telepathically communicating and it sounds like dolphins and whales which is a nice touch

They are using sex (obvs they are sirens) to sell themselves but they i believe have already told people they are siblings so there's incesty vibes they are throwing out

One of the girls has already taken a shine to a boy fingers crossed he dies a grisly death

Ritual hump, kneeing in the buttocks for luck???

Equally opportunity dry humping of all employees

Don't touch me 🤣 the older sister

They are singing obviously in the night club???

Seriously it's a bar, there's a full restaurant, it's a strip club, it's got a house band, it looks like a drag joint

What would these be called in Poland?

Okay the girls jumped in the giant fish bowl for the grand finale

Not only is kissing a band member on stage bad for business

Aren't you going to eat him later??

I think silver is the young red and gold is the older brunette

The young women course are slender in the model drug addict prepubescent aesthetic

Um is this a forth wall explanation song or do they literally have hypnosis powers

Finally some teeth

She's lementing her desires presumably to eat humans

This can be read as victim blamey young girls know what they are doing thing tbd on that once we finish the film

Gold did straight up hypnotise some guy

Missed w what silver saw through the peep hole

Somebody giving silver a cigarette and offering a vagina???

Obviously fish aren't smokers nor are singers

Direct reference to the little mermaid???

Who's this guy they keep flashing to?

Removed the belly button too but kept the boobs? I mean male gaze but the mammalian parts?? Like boobs are

Um do mermaid scales grant wishes in polish lore??

Good guy won't fuck but will accept head??

The duo name is officially the lure

Peak stardom

They are making out for the crowd i will take this time to remind you they are sisters

Crowds officially enthralled

Another eye shot but ... They didn't look inhuman?

Head of talent is equal opportunity kissing the band

Finally the guy in person

Two hooks to the head

Look now the fishman is also being creepy

Was that lost in translation? Why would he marry someone tonight?

This underwater patriarchy thing is ridiculous mermaids are matriarchal

The poleesuh

Are onto her

And hopscotch dance number cops and robbers

Charlies angels

I will restate for the record i do not understand camp...like AT ALL

Now she's sleeping with the cop

Very camp lesbian mermaid scene

Former top singer is fantasizing about mermaid girls who already slept with the guy she is sleeping with and also the band kid???

In case it was unclear this is a full musical there are more songs than dialogue and several dance numbers

The "sexualization" of them men suck as it is is done in a comedic manner

Silver is asking about being a real girl, doing fun human stuff and the older band/club people said no you should continue to do slave labor we will take your money and no roller skating for you

Mermaid fight, turned into collaboration dance song?

Two punches

Casual violence against women but also that a human could ko a mermaid is nuts

Rolled up into carpets

Tossed back into the ocean

Law and order SVU

And not the young one fights the old one because his lil fish not really girlfriend is in the sea

The older woman breaks it up and is ALSO punched in the face and also ko'd

Very casual violence against women yet none of them can fight

Even if the mermaids eat every single man in the tri-city area it won't compensate for all the casual/ norminilization of misogyny & violence against women

They ate somebody

She's IVing the young man, he got beat that bad?

And the old guy has diabetes

So they are all modern dancing? Their pains??

But fine for the next show

She came back and bit off the finger of the guy who punched them

He hit them square in the face without emotion as a tactical decision and they were out then in rugs we didn't get any emotional response

The main whines and golden looks on with an evil grin

Mens violence against women is casual regular and normal , unemotional logical

Women's violence against men is unexpected unnecessarily cruel and vindictive

Then to drive that home thru go join the rival mermaid band???

It's especially evil because now they are in a playboy bunny photoshoot??

Triton is the bad merman name

Silver is going to cut her tail off to get a pussy 😮‍💨

She will of course lose her voice

Pussy transplant

Who's that's dismembered girl next to her??

Who cares??

Also shes doing it without anesthesia

Oh this human girl is alive and getting a mermaid tale?

Is it a girl power trade 🥺🥺 these women being dismembered by men without anesthesia?

Didn't even really see if the girl got her tail she was also naked too no surgical gown

Wheel chair

Boy is very excited about her new vagina

Didn't like the fishy one

Oh she looks like shes having fun with the zero foreplay and the pained expression

A whole entire slasher level of blood because

What am i to make of this ? Band boy has inhuman sized cock?

Vagina donor has never had sex and vagina will spurt blood during what eas otherwise seen as tame pg13 level thrusts?

Sex is inherently violent to women as shes bad for wanting to get laid and nows shes bleeding and if you want sex you will die of blood loss

Literally what's the takeaway here for this scene???

She has lost her voice

Gold is standing by her sister

Band boy has already moved on after what would be a gratuitous amount of blood for a brutal r@pe scene let alone a virginity loss

He immediately tossed her scale away

At least he's not a cheater?

Yea they're marrying

White suit and white dress

After a make out session

Hours after that bloody show and less than 24hrs out from her leg/pussy surgery

She's not seafoam

Okay she has to eat him before sunrise

I've neglected to mention everyone is drunk or high this entire film

Inviting her to the wedding is wild, i think this is literally the same day

Now they are dancing

Peak male ego

Dance with the girl you just forced to have surgery with violated and dumped

Ah men

And shes going to turn into seafoam for him

Because women love abuse

Embracing the abuse

Sis sees the whole thing and is of course overly emotional and murders him

Because women who accept/ embrace abuse are sweet and content to die at the hands of men and women who are not are shrieking violent hags with no emotional regulatory skills

She jumps in the water

Fin

Well I definitely should have watched this earlier now I need a pallet cleanser for this buffet of misogyny

#graywatchhorror23 #the lure

[resmarted]

some updates:

- anne went to my house to feed my poor cat and cleaned my kitchen for me like an angel. making sure the universe blesses her with everything she needs and more even if i have to rob a goddamn bank to do it my damn self

- THREE different people WIPED their filthy fucking hands on me like i am a human napkin including directly on my skin after i finally had a shower for the first time in days. i want you to know right now that if anyone touches me from here on out especially without my consent i’m elbowing you in the fucking nose and lighting your goddamn house on fire seriously what the FUCK is wrong with people like the actual fuck

- the nurses are getting progressively more neglectful with each shift change and i’m lucky if they even return within the same hour that they’re supposed to. i’m literally so afraid to bother anyone ever and am constantly trying to do things myself so i don’t have to put anybody out and it’s very frustrating when i actually need something like time sensitive pain meds!!!

- i still have not gone thru surgery. i barely see doctors no one knows what is going on and i’m constantly too tired to look at my phone or respond to anyone’s texts and i’m exhausted by everything in general. the doctors were supposed to come for a second round at the end of the day and never did.

- i did start giving nurses readings because i’m literally turning into my mother who is also known to do this when she’s in the hospital. very fun way to make friends! hoping it makes them a little more prompt with my meds intake tomorrow 😩

- i want to fucking die! how am i alive? how am i still in the hospital? this issue has been going on since monday. they told me if they take out the infected implant they may have to take out the bridge in my mouth built from a fibula they removed from my leg a couple years ago. i said FUCKING DO IT it’s done me no good my entire life is a nightmare ever since that operation! they still have not made a decision if they will.

- the scary thing is i’m not even at the university hospital this time, i’m at a relatively good one. this is so telling of the healthcare system at large. nurses are making what is supposed to be the current minimum wage had it gone up every year as was intended and they all have compassion burnout from being stuck indoors all day being treated like glorified maids. the rooms are overflowing there’s way too many patients and not enough staff and when you do talk to a doctor they’re straight up ready to go to lunch like you can tell they’re counting down the clock for when they can go to a bar. i fkn hate this system we live in and i swear to christ i will go down fighting it until a bloody demise.

- this could not be happening at a worse fucking time!!! rent is due im missing work i have an hour special to prepare for including promo i was in the middle of working on for my birthday show standup act where i have spent the last year refining discussing this very topic.

- everything that could go wrong is and my cat does not like to be alone without mommy!!

- the dilaudid is still good tho. would like to have this each night in a martini glass.

- please keep in your prayers the next person that dares to fucking touch me i swear to god.

#nurse just gave me the dirtiest look like she was going to kill me for asking for the same thing i’ve been waiting on for over an hour 🫠

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

What Not to Say/Do to a Trypanophobic Person

I've seen a lot of ignorant people (most of them healthcare providers) over the course of my time as a person with a severe needle phobia, so I've compiled a list of things that have made my blood absolutely boil and either don't help or actively worsen my phobia.

Saying "it's just a little needle", "it's not that bad", or anything else that aims to minimize the situation. Phobias are irrational, but the people who have them are not. We're fully aware of how ridiculous phobias are, you don't need to remind us. It's infantilizing and likely to put us on the defensive, which can raise anxiety/adrenaline.

Calling us babies or weak for having a phobia. Phobias are panic disorders. We can't switch them off. Unless you think having a mental illness is a weakness (which I hope you don't) it's illogical and hurtful to apply this kind of thinking to us.

Physically restraining us. Physical restraints are bad. Really fucking bad. If done wrong (or even when done correctly) they can seriously injure or kill someone. If a person with a needle phobia is attempting to leave the situation, they are engaging the "flight" part of "flight or fight". So what happens if flight becomes unavailable? We fight. I've injured people who have restrained me in the past. It's not conscious or intentional, it's pure instinct. It can also be traumatizing to be exposed to something you're terrified of and forced to undergo a procedure, even if you agreed to it previously. Let me repeat that for emphasis. Even if a person previously agreed to undergo a procedure, it can still be traumatic if they attempt to retract consent and aren't allowed to.

Trying to scare us. When in a calm state we might decide, on our own, to weigh the risks and rewards of getting a procedure involving a needle done. And sometimes our anxiety about not getting a procedure done outweighs anxiety of getting the procedure done and we decide to go through with it. But if you attempt to scare us into a procedure involving a needle, we can tell. And once we figure out what you're doing, we can no longer trust the information you're giving us. I've known doctors who have exaggerated or straight up lied to me about what would happen if I didn't get a vaccine. Even if you're 100% truthful, tone matters. Don't act concerned, angry, or like you're talking to a child. Give us the facts in a calm, professional manner, and let us work on the rest.

Insisting on talking about needles even when we've asked to stop/said we're done. If you're discussing a procedure involving needles with a trypanophobic person and they say anything to the effect of "I don't want to talk about this anymore", the conversation is over. It doesn't matter if you just had some great revelation or if what you have to say is really important. Keep it to yourself. We usually won't cut off a conversation about our phobia until it reaches a point where we can't handle it anymore. If you keep pushing, you might trigger a panic attack.

Exposing us to needles without our consent. "But exposure therapy!" I hear you saying, and to that I respond "shut up and fuck off, you don't know what that is". Exposure therapy is when a person with trauma, OCD, a phobia, or another disorder that can be triggered chooses to slowly, in a controlled environment, expose themself to a trigger. Exposure therapy can't be done to a person, only by a person. For a trypanophobic person, this might be looking at pictures of people getting injections. When they've had enough and are getting too stressed, they can simply close the tab and move on to something less stressful. Sending someone pictures of needles, taking them to places where needles might be, pretending that you're going to jab them, those things aren't exposure therapy. That's emotional abuse, repeatedly exposing someone to something that you know triggers panic in them for your own amusement.

Shaming us for the "damage" we could be doing. Herd immunity is important. It's important because it protects those who can't be vaccinated, including some of us. I was at a point a few years ago where I physically couldn't enter a room where I knew a needle was going to be used on me. My body just wouldn't move that way. Since physical restraining isn't an option, if someone can't bring themself to get a vaccine on their own due to a phobia, they're vaccine exempt. End of story.

Shaming us for not actively working on recovering. First of all, there's no way for you to know if someone is working on their phobia or not. Second of all, there are a lot of valid reasons to not be recovering. The main one that comes to mind is external stress. When my needle phobia was at its worst I was in 10th grade, the hardest grade at my school. I was barely staying afloat as it was. Treating your day-to-day stress has to come before working on a bigger, less present issue.

Asking us when we're going to get over/grow out of it. Phobias vary in severity and ease of management. Some people are never able to manage their phobia. Some people learn to manage it very quickly. Some people benefit from simple techniques like deep breathing and distraction, some people need more advanced help. Some people are able to participate in exposure therapy, some are too overwhelmed by their trigger to even try. Like any other mental illness, phobias are complicated and no two phobic people are exactly alike. Applying your expectations of recovery on us doesn't help and can vary from annoying to hurtful.

Ignoring or arguing with our accommodations. Disabled people, as a general rule, don't ask for accommodations we don't need. If a person with a phobia is asking you to perform a procedure in a different way than you're used to, it's more likely than not that this is the only way they can get it done. For instance, I have to have blood taken from a vein on my right hand. The vein on my inner elbow, the one they usually use, is hard to find, making the procedure take longer and causing me more pain. The only reason I'm able to get the blood work I need to manage and research my chronic illness is that I discovered this easier way to do it. People who are doing exposure therapy are in an extremely fragile state of mine, often having or on the verge of having a panic attack. If things don't go exactly as planned it can be traumatic and reinforce the phobia even more. Do what you can to make the procedure as calm and quick as possible. If something goes wrong accidentally, apologize and be kind even if the person seems irrationally upset over it. We're dealing with incredibly high adrenaline, our bodies are sending us signals that we're in mortal danger. In addition, as I mentioned before, some people also can't do procedures involving needles at all and will need to be excused from those procedures. Pushing a person with trypanophobia to discuss needles can cause them to panic or become defensive. This isn't something we have control over and it's not something we can be talked out of.

#trypanophobia #actually phobia #mental health #mental illness #mental health awareness #panic disorder #ableism tw

[wolf-queer-discourse]

Adventures in Aphobia #1

So I was scrolling through Tumblr the other day (a regrettable mistake as always), and I had the great pleasure of seeing this joyous post.

*deep breath*

Not gonna lie, posts like this make me real pissed. Pissed because the person who posted this exists in a space where they feel comfortable enough to post this online. Pissed because these posts are so common and often face little backlash. And pissed because there’s nothing better than allosexuals condescendingly explaining to asexual people why they’re dirty attention whores who invent their own oppression. Ace people deserve to be defended against this horseshit. Young people see these posts, and it’s extremely damaging to have your identity be nothing more than fuel for people in discourse to mock you and demand you bled in order for them to notice your pain.

Anger aside, many people do not see why this post is wrong, so why is it? Let’s unpack this clusterfuck of bigotry:

“would love to see substantive evidence of systematic “aphobia” that isn’t actually just misogyny, toxic masculinity, or rpe culture.”

God damn, we are not mincing our words here XD. A few things: systematic in bold, which tells you if you do not make a blood sacrifice on the altar of queer pain you will not be taken seriously. Potential nitpick, but systemic and systematic are not the same thing. I believe systemic is the word they’re looking for. Systematic implies a lot more intentionality that can be hard to prove. Systemic merely means that systems, in their current state, do aphobic things, which they absolutely do.

“Aphobia” in quotes is absolutely rich. Not only will this person refuse to acknowledge systemic aphobia, which is only one type, but this poster casts clear doubt upon the mere concept of aphobia in and of itself. We love to see it.

There’s a lot to unpack here. The statement, as clearly condescending as intended, is sort of correct, though it doesn’t mean a whole lot. Systemic oppression is about the systems in a society (government, healthcare, etc) discriminating against people. Systemic oppression is not bigotry faced on a person-to-person level. In short, systematic oppression is something a person experiences in their overall life, while personal discrimination is experienced on a personal level by people who are not singularly in control of the systems. This post boils down the negative comments ace people face into being called “weird”, which is an understatement for sure, but calling a gay person weird isn’t systemic oppression either.

It’s still bad and discriminatory.

This is such a snotty way to dismiss aphobia as some mere, insignificant comment with no meaning as if it doesn’t reinforce society’s painful aphobic views in the same way casual homophobic comments reinforce heteronormativity and society’s hostility toward gay people.

Ace people face discrimination in healthcare, most notably, which is systemic discrimination, but the systemic discrimination of asexuals really ought to be its own post if I’m to nosedive into it. Even if ace people faced no systemic discrimination, it wouldn’t make this point anymore correct. Discrimination is a perfectly valid reason to feel disregarded by society, and often only ace people are denied the right to feel this way and are instead gaslit into admitting what they face is no big deal and they’re just making it up for attention.

The experience of being pressured to have sex when you’re allo vs ace is very different. The vast majority of allo people do not plan to be celibate their whole lives. Many ace people do not want to have sex, ever. “Waiting for sex” in much of western society and in Christianity is seen as pure and honorable. Yet being asexual and never wanting sex is seen as a deviant disorder and people are accused of robbing their partner of sex forever.

There’s really a specific flavor of sexual pressure that is unique to ace people. Sex being to “fix” someone or because they “just need to try it”.

In this respect, aphobic sexual pressure is better compared to that faced by gay people and lesbians. Lesbians especially often can face this same struggle, men pressuring them to have sex because they think lesbians just need to “try it” or to “fix them”. I can imagine this poster would have no issue acknowledging lesbophobia being the root of lesbians coerced into sex with men, yet she does not give ace people the same.

Imagine if someone said (and knowing our fucked world, someone probably has): “Lesbophobia doesn’t exist. It’s just misogyny. Straight women are coerced into sex too!”

It’d be pathetic bullshit. Toxic masculinity, misogyny and many other issues can all tangle into combined messes with other forms of bigotry. Lesbophobia is an experience that deserves to be recognized apart from misogyny, even if the two are linked. Please stop erasing ace people’s experiences with this when it’s not the same thing.

Honestly, though, this post, as trashy as it is, if anything, is perhaps, really asking: Is there any type of aphobic experience that’s inherently exclusive to ace people?

I still wager to go say, yes, yes there is, but I must make an important point first:

Most experiences of queer discrimination are not limited to queer people.

Homophobia and transphobia are both experienced by cishets in certain instances. Feminine straight men can be victims of homophobic harassment. This does not disprove the fact that it’s homophobia just because a straight man is the victim of it. A tall cis woman with broad shoulders and a lower voice may be the victim of transphobic remarks or comments. The basis of these comments is rooted in transphobia, however, so the fact that the victim is cis does not erase the transphobia.

People who argue that experiences ace people complain about can be experienced by allosexuals are not poking a legitimate hole in doing this. Certain experiences related to aphobia can and are experienced by allosexuals. If you do not acknowledge this, then homophobia and transphobia aren’t real because cishet people have sometimes experienced them.

Despite cishets sometimes experiencing queerphobia, most of us acknowledge that their experience of that bigotry, however unfortunate, is not the same as that experienced by actual queer people. It’d be quite homophobic for a feminine straight man to claim he knew just as much about the gay experience as an actual gay man. Similarly, when allosexual people relate experiences that were rooted in aphobia, it’s overstepping a line when they claim asexual discrimination isn’t real because they experienced elements of it too.

Cishet (cishet including allosexuals) people do not experience their doctors telling them their sexuality might be a disorder or caused by trauma. Allo queer people can experience this with their sexualities too.

“using sex appeal to sell products is misogyny, it is not engineered to gross sex-repulsed people, it is meant to objectify women.”

This is a strawman thinner than my last nerve. Uh, what? What ace people are you seeing that literally think sex appeal was engineered to gross-out sex-repulsed people?? I don’t think this is a core argument??

Yes, sex-repulsed ace people sometimes complain about sex appeal in media being uncomfortable. But that’s it. Every time an ace person shares a discomfort of theirs doesn’t mean it’s the entire basis of their oppression. For the love of God, let ace people discuss their experiences without being blow-torched over not being oppressed enough with an individual discomfort. 

BONUS ROUND

(This was in the tags)

“Completely vilifies celibate individuals” 

...no…? What…? Huh…? 

The most charitable interpretation of this vague accusation is that the poster means celibate people face aphobia as well, due to not wanting to have sex. I have no idea how this “vilifies” anyone, but that aside, as said before: people who are not queer can face aphobia. Also worth noting that society treats celibate people way better than ace people, which is really another example of aphobia. Celibate people can be told they’re missing out (which could be at very least related to aphobic ideals), but they’re rarely called broken. Celibacy is seen more as a respected, controlled ideal in allo people, but when ace people want to do it, they’re just mentally ill.

Anyway, the post was aphobic trash, and it needs to be debunked more often. Mocking ace people online is not a good look anymore, guys. Don't be ugly.

#discourse #queer discourse #LGBT discourse #Adventures in Aphobia #ace discourse #asexual discourse #aphobia #ace discrimination #asexual #asexuality #LGBT #queer #ace #rant #aphobes have no shame but they should #imagine having a brain smoother than a banana peel

[errorpeachy]

I'm so obsessed w your stories omg! Can i request a HC of the main four having a poc S/o? It would be great!

I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, TURN IT UP ~🍑💞

✎ Main Four with a POC S/O ✎

Gon:

-Bye he loves you so much

-This guy literally doesn’t care what color you are, you could be purple and he’d still think you’re amazing, as he should

-Wants to learn about your culture but ends up getting his brain fried when you two get to all the customs

-Loves the cultural food you make, doesn’t matter what it is he’ll eat it

-Chances are of your hair ain’t straight he’s probably gotten his fingers tangled in it at least once

-If you wear a hijab then he’s got an extra head scarf on hand just in case

-Will lose his shit if you wear anything cultural because he just thinks it’s so amazing on you and bb is shook

-I love him

Killua

-He doesn’t even give a shit lol

-He thinks you’re cool but will literally take that to his grave

-If anyone tries to be rude he just kinda gives them his “I’m gonna fuck your shit up homie” look

-This guy has an endless amount of money so he’ll buy you whatever products you need

-If you wear a bonnet he has that shit covered

-Hijabs? He buys you boujee ass silk ones and some pins to protect your hair

-Is especially interested in your cultural clothing since he likes all sorts of fashion and clothes

-Will comb out your hair/take out your braids if you ask him to

-Honestly period

Kurapika

-KING

-If you wear a bonnet to sleep he fixes that shit while you rest

-I just know he checks shampoos and conditioners to see if they’re good for your hair

-“My love that has sulfate in it don’t buy it”

-If you wear a hijab he has pins in case it comes lose and will ROCK SOMEONE’S SHIT if they try to take it off

-Has threatened people and he’ll do it again bop bop

-Loves you so much pls he just thinks you’re so pretty

-Doesn’t even think twice about how you look, they live in a word where fucking humanoid ants were a thing okay

-Will wait for you if you get your hair done, he just reads a book quietly and will leave if you ask him to get you food

-We stan

Leorio

-BYEEE HE LITERALLY ADORES YOU

-If you wear makeup he gets personally offended if a certain brand doesn’t have your shade of foundation

-Is upset when he hears about the inequality in healthcare and shit for POC, it motivates him more to finish med school

-Tells you about what you can do if a doctor discriminated against you

-Bitch you already know he’s out here tryna learn all your recipes

-Isn’t even a shitty cook lmao he actually kills some of the traditional food you eat

-Brags about you

-Seriously he never shuts up

-He thinks every color looks good against your skin tone and he’ll make sure you know it

-Will do hairstyles for you but he ends up getting his hands tangled

-It’s okay tho we love him

#gon freecss #gon x reader #Gon freecss x reader #gon hxh #killua hxh #killua x reader #killua zoldyck x reader #killua headcanons #killua zoldyck #kurapika x reader #kurapika kurta #Kurapika Kurta x reader #kurapika headcanons #leorio paradinight #leorio headcanons #leorio hxh #leorio x reader #Leorio paradinight x reader #hxh headcanons #hxh fluff #gon hunter x hunter

[swan-lake-collective]

Y’all who else is superphobic? wanna be friends? 😳

Okay but in all seriousness, I’m here to discuss what the fuck this “super straight” is. My sources will be linked at the end of this post if you want to watch these videos, because I’ll be using points from all three.

If you don’t know what SuperStraight is, it’s basically a new “sexuality” that transphobes can hide behind. The original creator was a guy on tiktok, saying how he didn’t believe transwomen were real women, which isn’t true at all and is inherently transphobic. It was then taken over by 4chan. They have a Twitter, Reddit, and discord which we will be covering in later sections of this post.

Im not sure if this is a joke or a real thing but it’s extremely harmful to trans people. We’re in 2021 and people in our own community are trying to kick us out and replace the T with S, which is absurd and beyond my comprehension. It’s not inherently (in my opinion) transphobic if you dont want to date a trans person. It is transphobic when you claim trans women and trans men aren’t real women/men. Creating this “sexuality” and demanding to be let into our community is absolutely ridiculous. I’d also like to mention their flag colors are literally the color schemes of Grindr and P*rnhub so have a good chuckle out of that one.

In Noah’s video, he mentions it’s extremely dehumanizing trans people, and he’s right. Using his example, imagine being 15 and closeted, and being absolutely terrified of coming out as trans because of this “sexuality” it’s wrong and it’s hurting people. We are people. We have feelings and emotions as well.

However I think Jammi’s video was my favorite. He talks more in-depth about why this is transphobic and brings up really good points so I recommend checking that out.

Now, these “super straights” have a Twitter and I’m just- I honestly don’t know if it’s a joke because it’s just so ridiculous and how could it not be a joke? Why do the straights want to be oppressed so bad? No one is “oppressing you“ for being straight, you aren‘t killed and beaten. You don’t have to worry about being denied jobs and healthcare because you’re trans or gay or apart of the LGBTQ+. You. Are. NOT. Oppressed. Please get over yourselves.

In Sam Collins’s video he gives us a glimpse of the *shudders* discord they have. They use it as a platform to target trans people and others who are “superphobic“ and harass them and send them hate. I don’t even know what to say about that one I’m just- I have no comment on that

Finally the last thing I want to mention is “SuperGays” “Super Lesbians” “Super Bisexuals” and “Super Pansexuals” y’all- you’re really trying to kick us out of our own community? And for what? It’s fine if you dont wanna date me because I’m trans I’m not going to “throw a hissy fit” and “demand things” from you, but this is absurd. You’re hurting people because you don’t want to own up and admit you’re being transphobic. Get over yourselves and grow up.

TDLR; If you identify as “super” anything, you aren’t welcome here. Just admit you’re transphobic and move on.

Feel free to add on HELPFUL information

Sources:

Sam Collins

JammiDodger

NoahFinnce

#cw murder #cw beatings #tw transphobia #tw super straight #long post

[anotheronechicagobog]

Bulletproofness and Playing God Jay Halstead x reader

written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

requested by @confusedpimp​, I hope you like it!

warnings: swearing, addiction, Hannah Asher is NOT porprayed well in this you have been warned, malpractice, emergency c-section complications, involves Chicago Med episode ‘Do No Harm’, police being idiots and assholes, warrants served incorrectly, drugs, drug dealers, bad neighbourhood created by systematic oppression and gentrification, Will is a prick with issues, and canon compliant violence

A/N: I am very sympathetic and supportive of people who have addictions because not only are there a tone of genetic factors that weigh in on it, but environmental factors that most people have very little to no control over. That being said, I am strongly against people with addictions working in healthcare, first responding, and/or law enforcement who spend most of their time with vulnerable people who don’t have much of a choice about whether to trust them or not. If someone works in an area where they have someone’s life in their hands they cannot be addicted to a substance that will control their ability to make judgements, affect how/their ability to work, and function as a whole.

In the past eight months, a warrant has been served to your apartment twenty-one times. You haven’t done anything wrong, the name on the warrants was always for your upstairs neighbour, did this make being woken up and the fucking crack of dawn and being interrogated (sometimes arrested) any easier? Not even a fucking bit. So you weren’t surprised when at 3:28 am, your door was busted open (again), heard shouts of “Chicago PD!” (again), and heard your house being “cleared” (again). You groaned and sat up, holding your hands up. Your bedroom door was thrown open with a bang. “I am unarmed, Marcus Evans lives in the apartment upstairs, and I have no association to him.” In the blandest voice possible, you recited the statement the legal aid at your university wrote you. “Uh... Sorry? Hey, Sarg, I think I’ve figured out why there were so many unsuccessful warrants on this place.” The blonde man was still pointing a gun at your head, but more members of his unit came to surround him.   

“Can I put my hands down now? I have documents that prove I am innocent, that the warrant was served to the wrong address, again, and that the only connection I have to Marcus Evans is that he is my annoying upstairs neighbour.”

They all sheepishly looked at you. The Latina woman spoke up, “the apartment is clear of anything even remotely illegal. Well, aside from the power lines attached to her box outside that show that her neighbours have been stealing power and internet from her.”

‘Sarg’, an older man with silver hair with a surprised look on his face nodded. “Alright, put ‘em down and get us the papers.”

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

Despite all the evidence that the warrant wasn’t meant for you, they still insisted on taking you down to the station. You refused since they couldn’t arrest you and had no grounds to hold you on, and Sergeant Voight did not like that. “I’m too tired to give a shit about what you want. I have three jobs, student loans, and university to deal with. The only things of value in my apartment are my crappy laptop and internet access. The only time I am ever here is to sleep. You already disturbed what little sleep I was able to get, and I have work in... Forty-five minutes. Just great. Please leave, and can one of you, for the love of all things holy put a note in the system that this is NOT Marcus Evans’ apartment?!” Everyone flinched at your outburst, all looking both sympathetic and annoyed except for Detective Halstead, he just looked very sad for you. “Of course,” he said as he handed you a business card, “if you could call me when you have time, we have some pretty important questions.” Sargent Voight shot him a look, one that clearly said ‘what the fuck are you doing? That’s not your call.’ “Okay. Now seriously, please leave.” Irritated and muttering under their breath, barring Halstead who gave you a smirk and a wink, they all left stepping over the splinters of the door you replaced three weeks before.

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

The next day after entering your sparsely decorated apartment, dropping dead on your bed/couch, you heard the distinctive sounds of a door being broken down, followed by the police announcing themselves, and an apartment being searched... Above yours. They finally got the right apartment! Despite the ache in your muscles and bones, you jumped up and cheered. Complete and utter elation surrounded you and your soul. A few minutes into your dancing and celebrating there was a knock on the door. Smiling brighter than you had in years you answered the door. “Good morning detective!”

“Well, good morning to you too, Ms. Y/L/N. You’re in a much better mood.”

“To be fair, you guys busted into my apartment at three in the morning, again, and I just heard everything that happened upstairs, you guys finally got the right apartment!”

“Hey, we never served more than one warrant here.”

“Your unit only served one, but your brothers in blue served twenty-one. Destroying property, unlawful arrest, causing severe anxiety, and just general harassment for eight months. The only reason I didn’t move was because I couldn’t afford to. I’m just happy it’s over now, I’ll never have a  Marcus Evans warrant served at my apartment again!” Halstead looked happy when you opened the door and your conversation began, but when you finally took a breath you noticed how guilty he looked. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking like he was in physical pain, before he nodded at you and walked away, leaving you feeling incredibly confused.

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

Two days later you returned from two ten-hour shifts to Jay Halstead in front of your door. “Detective?”

“Please, call me Jay.”

“Alright, Jay, what are you doing here? Is everything okay with Marcus’s arrest?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine with that. I came here because of this.” He handed you a large manilla envelope. “What’s this?”

“Compensation. For everything that happened over the last eight months. And apartment listings in better neighbourhoods. Seriously, you need to get out of here, it’s way too dangerous.”

“Thanks for the advice, and the compensation, I’ll think about it. But it just might not be doable for me.”

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

You couldn’t afford to move, something that irked Jay to no end. So he came around often. Dropping by with coffee and Irish breakfasts. Sharing his Netflix password and watching B99 together. Driving you home from work or university when it was late. The days grew shorter, and your hours of work grew longer. Jay worried. About you. About the number of hours you worked. About how much university work you had. About your health, how much (or little, really) you slept and ate, how you didn’t see the doctor as often you should (ironic considering you were in med school), and about how you never took time to relax, always jumping from one task to the next. 

You slumped against the passenger seat of Jay’s truck, exhausted after working for thirty hours straight, ten at each of your jobs. “Okay, seriously, you can’t keep living like this. I have a spare room, I can get you a civilian job at my precinct. You are wearing yourself to the bone. Please, Y/N.”

“I get my residency assignment tomorrow. I quit today.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“All three.”

“And you’ll move out of your apartment?”

“Nope.” Popping the ‘p’. Jay sighed and shook his head, before looking at your half-asleep form. “I’ll take you to the shithole you call a home.”

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

TWO YEARS LATER

Jumping up and down you waited for Jay to open the door. The envelopes sitting on his coffee table glaring at you. You flopped onto his couch (that didn’t also double as a bed) and huffed impatiently. Fidgeting.

The door opened and you jumped up, startling your best friend. His cop/ranger instincts taking over. He stiffly dropped his jacket and yanked out his gun before aiming it for your head. Panic coursed through you, tightening your chest. Reflexively you put up your hands, not able to control the words that bubbled out of your throat. “I’m bulletproof... But please don’t shoot me.” Jay lowered his gun, laughing. “‘Bulletproof’? Really?”

“Hey, I panicked, shut up.”

“What’re you doing here, anyway? I thought you were taking another shift?”

“I was, but then Sarah’s plans fell through so she decided to take her shift back, plus I got my fellowship applications back!”

“Where did you get accepted?!”

“I don’t know I was waiting for you to get back to open them!”

“Well I’m here now, so open them!” 

“Okay, okay, here we go; Honolulu general, accepted, Seattle Grace, no, but they had a bomb blow up there recently so I’m not heartbroken, Chicago med, yes, and Miami Dade Memorial, yes. Okay 3/4, that’s great! What do you think?”

“Well I’m biased, so Chicago Med, but it would be fun to visit you in Hawaii.” 

“Hawaii is so expensive though, I’d probably have to have a part-time job to make rent.”

“In a decent apartment this time.”

“Two part-time jobs, then. So Hawaii is out, now Miami... It is hot there, beaches, the ocean, the food, but Miami Dade Memorial isn’t very prominent in the research department and the crime rate is awful in the part I’d need to live and work in. I mean I know isn’t a whole lot better but... It would feel a bit like moving from bad to worse, especially on my budget.”

“So that leaves Chicago...”

“It does, but I think I need to find a new place that’s closer to Med and filled with less dug dealers.”

“Please tell me this was a subtle way of asking if you can move in with me.”

“It wasn’t, but now that you bring it up, would that be okay?”

“YES! Oh thank fuck, you’re finally moving out of that rat’s nest! C’mon, let’s go get your stuff now!”

“But Jay I just paid this month’s rent-“

“Let’s gooooooooooo!”

——————————————————————————————————-

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Because your apartment was in such a “great location” (in the same building as three drug dealers) your landlord was willing to give half of your rent back. It had only taken you twenty-something minutes to pack your things and leave. Now you were starting your surgical OB/GYN fellowship, excited to not be working multiple jobs at once for the first time since you were twelve. While Jay’s brother, Will, worked at Med as well he worked in the ED while you worked in the gynecology unit and you were thankful you only had to work together for consults or in an all hands on deck situation because he could be a fucking prick. When you first met him years ago he spent two hours quizzing your medical knowledge, and he got annoyed when you got everything right and he couldn’t correct you. So when you got a consult from him your first week there, you were apprehensive. “Hey Y/N, treatment room four.”

“Thanks, Maggie.” You pushed back the curtain and were met with the sight of a pregnant woman clearly in immense pain and a frustrating ginger. “Dr. Asher is her OB but we can’t find her anywhere. She was on-call but I, and a couple of nurses, and her secretary have been blowing up her phone and we’ve got nothing back. This is her patient Sienna. She’s in a lot of pain but is refusing painkillers, you’ve been working with her a lot lately-“ You snorted. His facial expression hardened. “Just come out and say it Y/L/N.”

“First of all it’s doctor Y/L/N, second of all, I haven’t been ‘working’ with her, I’ve been taking care of ‘her’ patients because she’s almost never at work. She just cancels the appointments short notice and since these women are kind of on a timeline their appointments get reassigned to other doctors. She’s listed as their doctor on all the forms but she’s never even met half of them. Sienna is the only patient that Dr. Asher has seen more than once.” 

“Don’t talk about her like that, you don’t know-“

“That she’s an addict? The entire OB floor knows we just don’t have enough proof to do anything about it. And don’t get me wrong, I know that there’s a lot of genetic components to addiction and I would be sympathetic if she wasn’t responsible for multiple lives at a time on a daily basis.” You turned on your heel and entered the room, done with Will Halstead and his bullshit. “Hi Sienna, my name is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, and I’ll be filling in for Dr. Asher, I understand that you don’t want any drugs and while that’s fine, if your condition gets bad enough we may have to intervene but we’ll do everything we can for you and your baby, okay?”

“Where’s Dr. Asher? I need her here, she understands!”

“Okay, we’re still trying to find her okay?”

—————————————————————————————————

“So I heard that you and my brother locked horns today.”

“Your brother is a prick.”

“I know that he is, I’m just wondering what happened this time.”

“He’s doing this weird ethical-puppy love-guilt trippy-Romeo and Juliet level of doomed-unnecessary drama-thing going on and it’s completely affecting how he treats his patients. We already had one loose cannon we couldn’t disarm, now we have another. It’s come to the point that I’m genuinely worried about the patients that come into Med, and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do.”

“Just try not to antagonize Will, okay? He’s more on edge and that makes him erratic, I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t make it worse.”

“Okay. I’ll leave him alone.”

“Thank you. I’m starving, what should we do for dinner?”

“Vietnamese is on the way.”

“Have I told you how amazing you are today?”

“Yes, but I would love to hear it again.”

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

Dr. Asher’s medical negligence had finally caught up with her, and for once Will wasn’t even remotely involved. He and Asher were having one of their silent spats again when Asher dropped the ball, or baby rather, during an emergency c-section of a patient she misdiagnosed and mistreated because she was in need of a fix. The only reason the mother didn’t hemorrhage and baby didn’t crack his skull was because of your observations and quick reflexes. The baby was healthy and mom was recovering and you were fuming. After scrubbing out you approached the, understandably distressed, father and told him that on your best medical opinion he and his wife should file a malpractice suit for missing an easy and obvious diagnosis, screwing up a routine surgery, and almost killing his son seconds after he was born.

You met with him, his lawyer and Asher two days later in a conference room with Goodwin and Peter the Stressed Out Lawyer. You accused her of having an addiction. The father requested a drug test. Goodwin glared, you glared back. If she didn’t want it handled like this then she should have dealt with it months ago when you brought it up your second week at Med. She tried to approach you in the hall, condescension on the tip of her tongue when you levelled her with a glare so fierce it rivalled that of Godzilla. “You do not get to scold me like I am a child. I told you when I first got here that she has a problem. That she is a danger to everyone who comes into her care. That she is a danger to other doctors. That she is a liability. Do not bitch to me when I told a husband and father who almost his wife and son to her recklessness to sue. To get angry and fight back. Do not take that petty, catty, condescending tone with me because I went around you. You have absolutely no ground to stand on. Because. You. Were. Wrong.”

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

You were surprised you had a job to come back to the next day. So was a very pissed off and ‘heartbroken’ Will Halstead. He kept running around to your colleagues, badmouthing you, trying to get them to join in and turn on you, but that didn’t happen. They not only agreed with you but rallied around you. Doctors are not gods. They do not get to ignore a patient’s wishes or act like they don’t have restrictions and limitations. It came to the point that Will told Jay he didn’t approve of you and that he had to dump you... Despite the fact that you weren’t dating.

Jay had rolled his eyes and pushed Will out of the apartment before giving you a hug and made you pancakes for dinner. “I’m sorry that I messed up your relationship with Will.”

“Don’t be. We’re brothers, we fight from time to time, and sometimes those fights are bigger than others and that’s okay. Will, well Halsteads in general, are pretty good at torpedoing any and all romantic relationships.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“My parents only got married cause my mom got knocked up and fought non-stop, Will was and still is in love with Natalie but he was too controlling, secretive, and refused to tell her about Burke, and me... Lindsay and I were on a break before we left because my Vegas wife refused to divorce me and I didn’t tell her I had even been to Vegas.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little true, but it’s not because you’re bad people or  Even just saying ‘yes there’s something going on but I don’t feel ready to talk about it with you’ would go a long way. Cause all you Halstead guys say is that you’re fine but you never are and if you lie to yourself you lie to your partner.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And tell Will when his head is surgically removed from Asher’s ass. You’ve seen that he follows her around like a puppy, right?”

“Yup, everyone on the OB floor has been talking about it nonstop since he started his whatever it was with Asher.”

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

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Because of the suit, the hospital conducted an internal investigation in relation to Dr. Asher that pretty much everyone could confirm. Erratic behaviour and attendance, leaving other doctors to tend to her patients while keeping her name on the case files, and horrifying evidence of being high while working. Granted that had only happened twice and she literally just sat in her office staring at paperwork the whole time. Still, she was fired, the suit was settled, and Asher lost her license. You had destroyed her career and while there was a part of you that felt guilty, you knew that in the end she did the right thing. She refused help and kept carrying on in a way that would have been detrimental to more patients if other doctors hadn’t stepped in. Will still wasn’t talking to you and had started avoiding Jay recently because you two started dating.

Barring the tension from all the Will stuff, your relationship was doing well. You had great dates (both out and at the apartment), were radiating happiness together, and Jay was taking your words about communication to heart. Not once has the phrase ‘I’m fine’ dripped off of his lips. If he didn’t want to tell you something or was more comfortable talking about it with his therapist or Upton before you he’d let you know. Most times he would just talk about what was bothering him, even if it was only bullet points sometimes you both felt relieved that functional relationships were actually possible. 

You were on a date with Jay at your favourite Jamaican restaurant when you ran into Hannah Asher. She did not look pleased to see you and quite honestly you could have lived the rest of your life happily if you never had to see her again. After a few seconds of glaring at you and your boyfriend, an annoying ginger put his arm around her. “Hi Will. How are you?”

“My girlfriend and I are doing well Jacob.”

“Really Will? You’re using my whole name because my-”

“Okay, you know what? Let’s go our separate ways. It looked like you guys were just leaving, and we’re probably confusing our poor hostess. So let’s both just walk away.”

“You ruined my life.”

“Asher-”

“You took everything from me!”

“Do you have any idea how many patients you almost killed in your time at Med? Because I do, and it’s a triple-digit number. You shouldn’t have been practicing in your condition and you know it. So you need to drop the victim act and walk away.” You saw her face contort into complete and utter rage, then everything is hazy. There were lights, bright red ones, and screaming, you were pretty sure Jay was there, and there was... Copper? Why did your mouth feel like it was full of liquid pennies? There was gurgling, was there a baby? Were they okay? You tried to speak, get up, look around, but you were too tired. You were begging yourself to move, to do something, but it felt like your bones turned into melting iron.

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

You didn’t remember waking up, or falling asleep for that matter, you were just looking at the glass door and suddenly it came into focus. You didn’t even know how you got to the ED, what happened at the restaurant. Dr. Choi entered your room apprehensively. “Y/L/N? How are you feeling?”

“Like I was mauled by a tiger.”

“That’s... Actually pretty close to what happened, honey.”

“Jay?”

“Hey, I’m right here. So, what’s the prognosis Choi?”

“Multiple contusions on the right side of the abdomen, lower back and around your neck, multiple lacerations all over your abdomen, forearms, and two on your head. Your liver was also perforated, we couldn’t stop the bleeding so we had to remove half of it, which you know means it’ll take a couple of months to grow back and you won’t be able to drink for around a year. We’re going to need to monitor you and run some tests, so you’re gonna be here for a few days.”

“Well I should hope so. What? Why are you two looking at me like I have eight heads? I could’ve died.”

“... You actually want to stay in the hospital and be cared for by your colleagues?”

“I trust you, besides I’ll only make things worse if I check myself out AMA, doesn’t matter how good of a doctor I am. It’ll be hard and I’m not going to enjoy it, but I have to stay here and get treated regardless so I might as well be as positive as I can about it.”

“You are officially my favourite patient.”

“And I love you even more.”

“Thanks guys, I appreciate it.”

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

“What happened Jay? I don’t remember anything after telling her to walk away.”

“She went berserk. Attacked you. I tried to pull her off but Will lost his mind, telling me not to hurt her. I managed to toss him after a couple of seconds but I was too late. She’d already slashed you up and stabbed you twice. I grabbed her but she managed to get a bunch of kicks in while I was hauling her away from you all while screaming that she was going to kill you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you. She’s sitting in a cell at the 21st right now with Platt breathing down her neck. We also did a drug test on her, she was high as all hell.”

“Please don’t feel bad Jay, I know that you reacted as fast and did as much as you could. And I know that Will did what he could to stop you. How is Will by the way?”

“He’s in the cell next to hers. He assaulted a police officer and was an accomplice in assault. Voight’s been asking if I want to drop the charges against him because he’s my brother. And I just don’t know, I wanted to talk to you first.”

“I don’t want to charge him. And I don’t want you to press charges either, but I won’t stop you if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want him to go to jail, I want him to go to therapy. He needs it.”

“I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but he really does. And I think you need to be the one to bring it up with him. We can do some research, too, and find psychiatrists that have their own practices so that it’s not connected to the hospital at all.”

“That sounds like a great idea, but I think you mean I do the research cause you are supposed to be resting and not doing any physically or mentally strenuous tasks.”

“Fine, fine. Just give Will a hug from me when you see him.”

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

ONE YEAR LATER

The day of the trial had finally arrived and you were pissed off about it. The date of the trial was the same day as your due date. The defence had done everything they could to delay the trial, and when they finally settled on the worst possible day three weeks ago, you’d tried to have it delayed again because you didn’t want to give birth in a courtroom. The defence had convinced the judge to deny it, so here you were, sitting in a sweltering room that smelled like old wood and seventies carpet for five hours beside your husband behind the district attorney doing your best not to glare at the judge. “It’s going to be okay, honey, she won’t get away with anything, it’s cut and dry. The only real thing to do is to determine her sentence.” Jay kissed your forehead and placed his hand on top of yours on your protruding stomach. You winced. “She just kicked again, Jay.”

“That’s seven minutes apart.”

“I’m in labour, we need to go.” Jay nodded to your lawyer who motioned to the judge for permission to speak. “Your honour, my client is in labour, may we adjourn so that she and her husband can go to the hospital?”

“Objection your honour!”

“Ms. Asher, do not interrupt the prosecution. I’ve heard and seen more than enough evidence. Ms. Asher, you are hereby sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for aggravated assault and attempted murder. The court now is adjourned. Oh, and Dr. Y/L/N and detective Halstead? Congratulations.”

#One Chicago #Chicago PD #chicago med #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #will halstead #Hannah Asher #sharon goodwin

[torn--and--frayed]

Josh/Donna + insecurity for the dialogue prompt?? ☺️🥰

Listen... was it the best idea to solicit prompts on a rare slow day at work? Admittedly, no. But this prompt did inspire me to return to some dialogue I had written for a multi-chapter fic I was working on.

I hate writing anything that isn’t dialogue, so it’s still in it’s rough form. Maybe when real life politics calms down it will be fun to return to the fictional kind.

Thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy!

When Josh enters the apartment after his third straight night spent in the Situation Room, he practically falls through door, stumbling a bit as he places his keys on the table.  

However, unlike the previous nights, all the lights in the apartment remain on, and Donna, rather than being tucked up in bed, is sitting at the kitchen table, hunching over her laptop. 

“Oh, you’re up.”

“Yep.” she says without looking up, her lips making a faint popping.

“Now who’s burning the midnight oil?” He tugs her hair gently, forcing her to tear her eyes away the harsh glow of the computer screen.

“You’re one to talk. Just finish up in the sit room?”

He sighs, crashing down into the other chair. “It’s, as they say, classified. Seriously, what’s got you working so late?”

“The First Lady chose an issue.” She’s back to staring vacantly. 

“Finally. Did you give her the folder? What did she choose? Foreign adoptions? School nutrition?” He smirks, “Say no to drugs?”

Donna glares at him sideways. 

“What? It’s not a childcare tax deduction, is it?”

“It’s worse.”

“Ok, now you’re really scaring me. What is it?”

“It’s…” she trails off as she covers her face in her hands. 

“Didn’t catch that? Its—”

“It’s healthcare.” Her voice reaching a high pitch she had previously not thought possible. 

“Healthcare?”

“Healthcare.”

“Oh wow.” Josh lets out a breath and leans back,“That’s—”

“Stupid? Impossible? Political suicide?”

“I was going to say difficult, but those work too.”

“Yeah.”

“Seriously, Donna, you can’t do healthcare. I mean, you can’t do healthcare.”

“What do you mean, ‘you can’t,’ Josh? Because I didn’t go to Harvard or Yale, my tiny mind just can’t grasp the complexity?”

“What? No—”

“I’m some political neophyte—”

“Donna, I meant the East Wing. I meant that, you’re in the East Wing, you should be doing fun—no, noncontroversial things. Not healthcare, that’s—I mean, that’s third rail.”

“Well, unfortunately, Josh, I don’t make the decisions over there; the First Lady does, and she decided she wants to do healthcare.”

“Well make her not want to do healthcare! You’re her Chief of Staff, aren’t you?”

“We’ve been spinning our wheels for weeks and now I’m supposed to tell her no? You can pick any issue, Mrs. Santos, just not that one?”

“Well, when that one is healthcare, yeah!”

“This is the first thing she’s shown interest in outside of what color drapes to hang in the residence. I’m not going stifle that before we’ve even tried.”

“You do realize that those of us in the West Wing have an agenda that we would like to get passed too? I’m not going to squander all the capital I earned winning a goddamn presidential election—”

“You’re not the only one that worked to get him elected, Josh,” Donna snaps. “This might come as a shock but the world in fact does not revolve around you.”

“Donna, we’re on the verge of nuclear war,” he says, frantically pulling at what remains of his hair,  “I don’t have time to hold your hand while you and the First Lady play nurse Barbie.”

“I didn’t ask you to hold my hand!”

“You think I’m just going to—” their rising voices are interrupted by the harsh sound of Josh’s pager. “Ah fuck. This fucking thing. Right now? Look, I don’t have time, I have to—”

“Just go.” Donna waives towards the door, dismissing him, “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“We agreed we wouldn’t bring any of this home with us and—”

She shrugs,“Well.”

“Yeah.”

***

Donna arrives at the White House at what could only be generously considered morning, even by D.C. standards. Her years spent as an assistant allowing her to balance coffees, breakfast, and a spare suit without so much as a fumble. 

She rounds the corner into the foyer outside of Josh’s office just as several in crisp military uniform are leaving. One nods slightly as he passes, “Morning Ms. Moss.”

“Good morning, Director Knowlton.”

 Josh’s head startles from the briefing he was reading, “Hey,” he starts sheepishly once the men have cleared. 

“Hey.”

“Look, I’m sorry—”

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry—”

“You were tired, and I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat—”

“I shouldn’t have even suggested you weren’t capable—

“And I shouldn’t project my insecurities onto you—”

“Because of course, you’re capable. You’re the most capable person I know. Hell, you’re more capable than me most days—”

“And I agree with you, it is the third rail—"

“Not that this isn’t adorable,” Margaret clears her throat as if to announce her presence, “but do you think you could do this in a place that isn’t right in front of my desk? Some of us are trying to get some work done.”

“Right, sorry.”  Josh leads them both into his office, shutting the door as he leans up against it. “Hey, Donna, I mean it I am sorry.”

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

“But we really need to talk about your legislative agenda—”

“Josh.” She raises a newly freed hand to stop him.”It’s already on your schedule. We’ll talk about it next week.”

“It’s already on my schedule. How do you even do that? We talked about this, what? Five hours ago?”

“I have my ways.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Now. Here’s your breakfast,” she dangles a paper bag in front of him, “and you really need to change. And brush your teeth while you are at it.”

“Hey!” Josh grabs for her wrist pulling her back against him, the bag crunching between them  “Why are you running out of here so fast?”

“It couldn’t have anything to do with your breath?”

“Funny. But I just brushed my teeth an hour ago, before my meeting with Knowlton, so I know it’s not that.”

“No, I guess not.”

“Stay and have breakfast with me.”

“You have time for breakfast?”

“Margaret,” Josh yells, “do I have time for breakfast?”

“You have ten minutes until senior staff.”

“See, I have ten minutes.”

“Ok.” She smiles as Josh leans in, and mumbles an ok of his own against her lips. 

The faint sound of a telephone ringing breaks the moment. 

“Bagel,” Donna pushes the now crumbled bag towards him. “And coffee.” she says, reaching around to hand him the paper cup.

“Everything bagel? Cream cheese? No whole wheat with low fat?”

“Uh huh. Full fat, almost no nutritional value. And coffee with four sugars. Just how you like it.”

“Wow. I’m getting spoiled today.”

“Consider it part of the apology.”

“Well as part of my apology I’ll let you have the fruit.” He says, handing her the cup of fruit she had tried to sneak in. 

“You’re so generous.”

“And powerful.”

“And humble.”

“And handsome.”

“Yes, that too.”

#tww fic #josh x donna #my fic #it's been a while... #don't know if I'll put this up on ao3 #might be a tumblr exclusive for a while #I get no love over there when I try to write anything other than comedy anyways #whatever I'm not sure how I feel about it but give me critiques #i live for them

[kennexara]

i hate pms food cravings!!! (actually healthcare providers keep asking me if i’ve heard of pmdd and i’m like yes that would explain a lot and yet nobody sticks it on my chart so idfk) 

like i don’t have the patience to make a meal that takes more than like ten minutes. i mean sometimes i can handle waiting for shit in the toaster oven that takes 20-30 but like anything more than five minutes of prep and i’m out.

but when the sugar cravings hit and i don’t have chocolate in the house? suddenly i’m able to focus. yesterday i made frosting from scratch. i don’t have a hand mixer. I STIRRED FROSTING FOR FUCK KNOWS HOW LONG AND THEN ATE IT STRAIGHT FROM THE BOWL UNTIL I ALMOST THREW UP.

AND THEN I CONTINUED DOING SO TODAY. 

like do other ppl not experience it this bad or am i that bad at executive functioning even with the meds?? 

all these not medical advice websites are like ‘just say no to your food cravings’ and it’s like motherfucker i would love to do you think i wanted to stir frosting on a weekend instead of playing video games? no!!! and yet i did!!

and then other sites are like it’s okay to give into pms cravings which i agree with in theory but i’m lowkey worried spiking everything once a month isn’t good and if i ever have blood pressure/cholesterol/anything else determined by food or whatever checked on pms week i’m concerned about how much it wouldn’t match whatever the numbers would be the other three weeks of the month. because seriously, as soon as the week is over i’m back to not eating sugar until i puke and it’s a relief.

also i still don’t fucking understand hormones. ‘yeah that’s what causes pms’ okay cool can i get wherever they’re coming from ripped out? ‘yeah but you’d still have to take replacement ones.’ well what the fuck else can i do? ‘you can take birth control constantly so you don’t have a period’ cool i’m doing that and i don’t have a period but i still get pms every month so what the fuck is up with that???

#ignore me #it does not spark joy why can't i stop it #like we finally got the mood part fixed with extra anxiety and antidepressant pills #but i feel like there's nothing to do for this and it annoys me so fucking much

[spaceskam]

ao3

Alex knew he picked a good choice of best friend when Kyle's response to Alex being dumped was to haul him into the car and start the 11 hour drive to Las Vegas.

The whole drive was spent full of Kyle distracting him and hyping him up, stopping by a daiquiri shop on the way there and getting him the largest size. It was a little weird, but Alex found that he was endlessly grateful. He needed this.

"You were too hot for him anyway," Kyle said a few hours in, "You deserve someone who could at least be a model, but not more of a model than you, you feel me?"

"Yeah,* Alex laughed, smiling at him as he sipped his drink, "I feel you."

"But it's all good. We're going to find you a hot piece of ass to rail," Kyle declared, "Or get railed by, I don't judge."

"Jesus Christ, Kyle," Alex laughed, but he just flashed that charming smile and went on with driving.

When they arrived in Vegas, the city was already lit up for the night and Kyle got a hotel room that they didn't stay in for long. He immediately led the way to a casino and paid Alex's way. Whenever Alex tried to refuse the handouts, Kyle insisted and said it was his idea so he would pay.

They spent the next few hours getting drunk and winning little sums of money. $20 here, $5 there, nothing fancy. But Alex was having more fun with Kyle than he had in his entire relationship, so it was easy to get lost in it.

"Alex," Kyle called, catching him by the belt loop and tugging him closer, "Blow on these for good luck."

Alex felt his face flush and a few sets of eyes were on them, but he blew on the set of dice Kyle shoved in his face nonetheless. He watched him throw them onto the table afterwards and a few separate things happened that he didn't quite understand having never been the gambling type. People cheered, though, and Kyle kissed the side of his face without hesitation.

"Told you!" Kyle exclaimed, "Good luck charm. What's his face didn't even know what he had."

Alex felt his face get even hotter and soaked up the praise without question.

Kyle kept him close as they eventually left the casino when they had a solid amount of winnings, taking their tipsy asses to a drag bar a few blocks away. They were let in surprisingly easy for not being dressed up in the slightest. They drank more, talking closer over the loud music and getting absolutely lost in each other's company. Alex felt like the luckiest man in the entire universe.

A few times, Kyle tried to introduce him to men he thought he might be interested in, but Alex always found Kyle significantly more interesting. He didn't mind going to bed alone if it meant just having Kyle. He eventually got that and stopped sending other guys his way, instead accepting drinks from interested parties and sharing them with each other.

"Men suck. All of them. Except maybe you," Alex said confidently, drunk enough to speak his mind but not enough to mess with his balance (for the most part) as they walked down the lively street. Kyle seemed to be on the same level because he smiled, squeezing Alex's hip since he had a grip on him so he wouldn't lose him as they headed towards the hotel. "God, I wish you were gay."

Kyle laughed loudly, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" Alex exclaimed, "You're, like, the only man I've met who understood what, like, growth is."

"What can I say? Therapy is a recommendation in my hospital," Kyle said. Alex snorted. "But glad I could be a good example."

"Yeah," Alex sighed, "You're my favorite person."

"Good," Kyle said, kissing the side of his head for what felt like the billionth time that night, "'Cause you're mine."

They were a block away from the hotel when they came across a 24-hour chapel. Kyle slowed as they neared it and came to a complete stop as he stared at it.

"You wanna get married?" Kyle asked. Alex blinked twice and looked at him.

"Seriously?" Alex said. His mind instantly started trying to be rational. Was he drunk? Was Kyle? What exactly did him asking that mean? Was it a joke? Would it be platonic? Would it be crazy to say yes even if it was?

"Yeah, why not?" Kyle said, looking at him with a fairly reckless smile. It reminded him of young Kyle who had talked him into sneaking into an abandoned house or had spontaneously learned how to do a backflip because he wanted to. He'd gotten a little more responsible since then, but it was nice to see. "Alex Manes deserves to give a nice fuck you to society and I'd love to do the honors of being that fuck you."

And, before Alex could even convince himself to ask questions, he nodded.

"Okay, sure."

Both drunk of hours of alcohol and each other, they found themselves standing in front of a tacky alter with a bouquet of faux flowers in Alex’s hand. They only partially listened to the guy who got his ordination credentials online, instead making teasing faces at each other. Alex felt like he was going to burst out of his skin, feeling a little confused and a little overwhelmed and a lot eager to understand what this meant. Would they frame their marriage license to put his dad’s grave and drink champagne in front of him? Would they use this for shared financial benefits? The healthcare between an Air Force officer and a doctor would be pretty sweet.

Except when the officiant said that they could kiss, Alex didn’t actually expect to Kyle to go for it. Or maybe he did because Kyle seemed to go in for a cheek kiss and Alex turned his head to meet his lips and Kyle just pulled him closer. And then Alex didn’t actually remember the kiss ending. 

It was like he blinked and they were back at the hotel, pressed into the corner of the elevator as they shared the alcohol still on their tongues. Then they were in the hotel room, two queen sized beds with a single nightstand between them and Kyle led them towards the one closest to the door to share.

It only stopped when Alex had to take his prosthetic off and, even then, Kyle pressed kisses across his shoulders and up his neck and certifiably destroying Alex’s ability to overthink anything. All he could think about was Kyle and how he wanted to touch him and how they had fucking signed a marriage certificate.

After the prosthetic was off, Kyle grabbed his jaw and sealed them in another kiss, pulling him to lay back on the bed. He seemed like he knew what he was doing and that was equally as confusing as the rest of the things that were happening that night, so he stopped questioning it. He welcomed Kyle’s skin and his touch and his kisses and he only had to help him out with an angle here and there.

It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning plastered into Kyle’s side, naked and warm and finally more sober, that he realized he didn’t understand. More than just that, he was outright confused about everything that had happened. Kyle, his straight friend, had just casually married him and slept with him after he got dumped. Did he do it because he felt bad for him? Did he do it because he was drunk? Did he even remember it?

Alex sat up and looked at him. He was sound asleep still, eyes closed and chest rising and falling with each breath. Tiny bruises that Alex had accidentally put on him were partially hidden under his facial hair. He was gorgeous. And so, so, so not into him like that.

Alex quickly got his prosthetic on and pulled on his clothes before he went into the bathroom, avoiding his reflection as he splashed water on his face. He didn’t want to look at himself, didn’t want to face the fact that he felt like absolutely garbage for what he’d done. The whole “marriage” was blurry, but Alex probably guilted him into it somehow. He didn’t remember, though, and that made it worse.

But, honestly, whatever happened was bad. Kyle was his best friend, the main person he could rely on, his safe space. And he fucked it all up by letting it go too far. He was going to lose his best friend because he couldn’t be responsible.

“Alex?” Kyle’s voice called. Alex’s whole body ached in response, a flood of guilt and shame and desire all hitting him at once. 

Kyle was his friend and he ruined it and, yet, he wanted to ruin it more. With him, he had fun and felt wanted and safe. No matter how stupid they were being, Alex never felt like the rug was being pulled out from beneath him. He was just safe. He wanted more of that.

“Hey, you okay in there?” Kyle asked, knocking gently. Alex squeezed his eyes closed. “You hungover? I can go get you something to drink. You like red Gatorade, right?”

Alex huffed a laugh and caved, swinging the door of the bathroom open. Kyle stood on the other side in all his naked glory and, honestly, it was a goddamn trap. It had to be. No one just looked like that casually.

“What happened last night?” Alex asked. Kyle stared at him, blinking a few times in confusion before his eyes widened slightly.

“You were that drunk?” he asked. Alex shook his head.

“No, I remember, I just... don’t,” Alex said, scraping his hands over his face, “I don’t get it. I don’t understand. Why did any of that happen? Did I make you feel like you had to or something?”

“You think I would marry you because I felt like I had to?” Kyle asked, a disbelieving tone in his voice. Alex didn't answer. "Look, it was a stupid ceremony and, and I don't think the license is even notarized officially or filed or whatever, so we can just rip it up and pretend it didn't happen if you want."

"Okay, so we pretend that didn't happen," Alex said loosely, his voice tightening as he got a little more upset and be gestured to the bed they'd shared, "How do we pretend that didn't happen?"

Kyle looked away from him for a second, falling so quiet they could hear the footsteps from the people in the room above them. Alex didn't know what to do.

"You want to forget that happened?" Kyle asked cautiously.

Alex huffed a laugh, “You don’t?”

Kyle was quiet for a long time, so long that Alex was beginning to feel sick. He felt like he drastically misunderstood something or maybe Kyle just was incredible at confusing him. Alex liked kissing him and, sure, the thought had crossed his mind more than once that Kyle would be the perfect boyfriend. Kyle was nice and thoughtful and cared about him. But he never in a million years thought Kyle might’ve thought about it too.

“Yeah, if you want to, sure. We forget it happened,” Kyle said, walking back towards the heart of the room to search for his clothes. Alex’s eyebrows were pulled together as he cautiously followed.

“Kyle, what the fuck is going on?” he asked. Kyle seemed to put an ample amount of attention into buttoning his jeans. “Don’t you want to forget it? I mean, I’d figure you’d want to forget sleeping with a guy.”

Kyle dropped his shirt and turned to face him.

“You must think real highly of yourself if you think I just decided to be bisexual because I wanted to make you feel better,” Kyle stated blatantly, “And you must think really highly of me if you think I was that good on my first try.”

“Wait,” Alex said, holding a hand up as he tried to process his words, “Wait, you...”

“I’m bi? Yes. And was it stupid to hook up with you knowing you just got out of a relationship? Also yes, but I’m not known to make good decisions when it comes to my romantic or sexual relationships, so,” Kyle said, throwing his arms out and letting them fall to his side pathetically.

Alex thought back through the last few months, trying to think back to any of the signs of Kyle realizing that about himself. He couldn’t remember when Kyle ever started acting differently. He was always just Kyle.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alex asked. Kyle took a long, deep breath.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders, “Probably because I knew if I did, I’d have a lot less things keeping me from trying to marry you on a whim in the middle of Las Vegas.”

“Okay,” Alex said, slowly sitting down on the bed. A few seconds passed before Kyle sat beside him, sighing. Alex eventually looked at him after he processed his words. “You didn’t have to tell me if you weren’t ready. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I’m in love with you, Alex,” Kyle said, so openly that Alex’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head, “I have been for a long time and I’m tired of hiding it. Especially after last night. And if you’re not into me like that, okay, fine, I can take it. I-I need a little space, but we’re friends first and I can learn to stop loving you like that. But I need you to tell me because if you don’t, I’m going to sit and wait for the rest of my life.”

“You know, I didn’t expect this whenever you suggested we drive to Vegas,” Alex said, mind swimming with a million thoughts at Kyle’s confession. Kyle huffed a small laugh, but he didn’t try to add anything.

They sat there for a long time, Kyle letting him think over what he said. It was strange to think that, while Alex was dating idiots who didn’t treat him right, Kyle was just there and waiting for him to notice. It made a mess of the last year, a slew of overthinking every interaction. Was Kyle being nice because he was Kyle, or because he wanted to sleep with him? Or was it just because he loved him? Genuinely, truly loved him and didn’t make him feel like that was a bad thing? Was that a thing someone could do?

“Do you really love me?” Alex clarified after awhile. Kyle gently nudged his knee into Alex’s.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have said that if I hadn’t thought about it every day for months,” he promised, “I love you and I want what’s best for you, whatever that means. So if you want me to fuck off, I will. If you want me to stay, then I will. Ball’s in your court.”

Alex took a deep breath and looked at him seriously. His handsome features, his honest eyes, the little hickies hidden in his facial hair. Alex wouldn’t mind looking at him forever, especially when that wasn’t all he had to offer.

“Can we do something in the middle?” Alex asked. Kyle waited. “Can we spend this weekend in Vegas being stupid and reckless, but when we got back to Roswell, give me some time to actually get over my last relationship. And then we start from square one? I don’t want you to be a rebound.”

“You don’t want me to be a rebound, but you wanna sleep with me again first?” Kyle clarified. Alex blinked innocently and gave a short nod in response. Kyle just laughed, moving forward back into his space and kissing him again.

Alex wasn’t sure if it was the sobriety, the love confession, or just the lack of confusion in general, but this kiss seemed to transcend all the previous ones. He leaned into it more, letting Kyle just love him openly and honestly.

And he liked that feeling.

#kylex #kylex fic #kyle valenti #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #this is based on a tiktok i saw like a month ago

[anyu-blue]

~

Medical stuffs below the cut. Nothing graphic.. just me lamenting how our system is failing and possibly killing me more than it was before.

So aside from the mid-apocalyptic headline in the newspaper this morning about how our state isn't getting the number of covid-19 vaccines it was promised, the government blaming low supply, and the supplier blaming the government's refusal to give orders to distribute supply that is very much there.... I had hope today would be helpful.

Turns out the doctor I've been bugging with my ailments REALLY did not want to see me and kept calling instead. Then he told me that I was too impatient and if I really really wanted answers I needed to go to the hospital... Oh but he didn't mean the hospital.. he meant the emergency department of the hospital, and based on my insurance it was going to be extremely expensive and he'd rather i tough it out for another week waiting for blood results to come back, and THEN refer me for any scans that might be necessary (another week minimum after the results until they could get me in after the results are back)...

It's been nearly a month.. or has it been longer than a month? Tough it out tough it out tough it out.

I've HAD to call off work because I couldn't see straight or hardly move!! I couldn't drive in that condition!! Let alone be by myself for 8 hours!! I might have to again in the time I'm kept waiting!! I CAN'T afford that!!!

So.. go to the ER... Where it's literally (seriously I'm not kidding, I have Medicaid which usually covers all deemed-necessary expenses) $1000 to walk in right now due to limited supplies, low staff, and limited capacity. That's BEFORE any work to help is done.

??? What?

I... I can't.... I can't afford that...

I'm not going to lie and say my eyes are dry.... Right now... Because they're not... Even though crying is probably only hurting me.

Lol

Doc thinks I've got a major infection (as do I!!!) In my abdomen. Doesn't know which of two (possibly 3) specific organs... And therefore will not and cannot prescribe treatment.... Even though they all have the same starting treatment of antibiotics/penicillin. Nope. Can't prescribe without knowing- which through his office will take a minimum of 3 weeks. Kaaay....

I just... I just... I'm so sick.. more than my normal sick... And idk what to do. I cannot convey how scared and desperate I am through this text... How the thought makes my vision blur streaks and grabs my throat so tightly I can't breathe...

I'm scared. I'm hurting. I might also be dying from an easily curable sickness... And I don't have the money- NO ONE I know has the money- to get the help I'm asking for. Wait.. the help I NEED. I was told to tough it out as long as I could.. I did. Told to call my doctor if I didn't get better. I did (and she's too busy even to take a phonecall from me or call me back). So I took it into my own hands and begged to be seen. Was given a Covid test which was negative and 2 H Pylori tests- immediate one was negative and the one that took nearly a week to get back- SURPRISE also negative.... And told to discuss my symptoms again over the phone.. which didn't help the first time. How.. how does that make sense?

I can barely pay my bills right now... Especially with missing two days of work this month... Thank the Gods for my amazing boss pulling some strings for me and adding the $1 differential to my paychecks even though I'm the temp... Or I wouldn't be able to at all. $1000 and more... CT scans too alone are $3000 and that's what he told me to ask for up there... After rapid testing labs... Some of which I know from being a phlebotomist a few years ago were $150 a pop THEN... Gods what are they NOW?

I'm not the only one suffering. I know I'm not. I will not be the first nor the last death from our corrupted healthcare system if it comes to that either... Lol... Nor will I be the first or last who keeps waiting and waiting and ends up in the ER anyway... Racking up even MORE bills than if I had just gone in right away....

I'm so distraught and lost (gotta save gotta save gotta save!!! So sick so sick so sick!!! ????????) I had to call my sister.... I'm so lost that even with all my experience I need someone who has none to tell me what to do out of my options...

I am toughing it out until Monday.... Going in to a different clinic ASAP where they see people from $10-$100 up front (medicaid is usually free but at this rate I don't trust that)... If they can't help me or won't like this other doctor... I'm to go straight to the ER... And we'll figure out the thousands of dollars in expenses however we can....

I hate this.. so much... I understand it's not perfect in other countries either.... But I don't really know of many more 1st world countries (can we even be called that any more?) where people are literally dying and drowning in medical debt... And are dying Because of their fear of the costs... And are dying because they choose the cheaper options... And are dying because they can't get help in time due mostly to costs and also to our fucked up referral system ....

#personal #random #ignore me #life in general #negative #medical #health #healthcare #america is a shithole country #america is a shit show #maybe once is was the land of opportunity.. but the opportunity has been taken #it hurts so bad... but I'm still alive #doc said if i can talk it's not that serious #okay... #til Monday then #trigger warnings

[of-another-broken-heart]

Having a really weird day. 

It’s a weird one!

I’m all over the place.

Or it feels like it.

Mostly I’m just. Ricocheting around this one expansive building in my dumb sprawling brain labyrinth - the one about healthcare. 

Trying to hunt down a new PCP.

Trying to find out HOW to hunt down a new PCP without wasting tons of time. I need one that isn’t going to do like my last team did. I need people who won’t fall for the siren lure of ingrained socially-supported medical fatphobia at the expense of the Hippocratic Oath. I need a healthcare team that actually provides care. I need queer acceptance. I need my concerns to be taken with seriousness and respect - and I need a doctor who won’t just handwave everything away because it’s quicker and easier to chalk it up to some other part of my very messy medical situation. I need a professional who will do their due diligence, and run the diagnostics, and make decisions based on results and data - not their personal mythical psychic assumption senses.  I need to know these things BEFORE wasting time and effort and energy and money on an appointment.  And nearly none of this is available information. Doctors are under no social pressure or obligation to make this sort of information publicly available. And “customer reviews” are rare and unreliable. The greatest failures result in death, and those people can’t very well complain, can they? The next greatest failures result in defeat and exhaustion - and those aren’t conditions conducive to leaving reviews, either. Survival, first and foremost.  I’m a perfect example of that.  Could I try to leave reviews about my last doctor in every corner I can find online that will grant me the space? Yes, I could. Am I going to? No. I don’t have the time or energy. 

Stressing about a dentist. Not thinking about the dentist. So much fucking trauma oh my god just don’t think about it. But these broken teeth though. I need a dentist.  How bad will it all actually be?  It’ll be bad. It’ll be worse than I’m prepared to handle. Just like last time. I’d love to be able to smile again. I’d love to have reasons to smile, first, of course. But it’d be nice not to be greeted by chipped holes and visible dark grey fillings that look and feel worse than the “cavities” they supposedly replaced.  It would also be nice if my jaw wasn’t lopsided. If my teeth lined up, instead of my bottom jaw being ~4mm off center. It didn’t used to be that bad. It was always a little off - the way some of my bottom teeth grew in as a kid. Was never severe enough to merit braces. Or maybe we just couldn’t afford braces. But then after some cavities and breaking teeth and botched cavity fillings that completely changed the topography of my bite... my jaw has gradually resettled, and it has done so. To the left.  But mostly I need my wisdom teeth. Fixed. Removed. I don’t know if they can be salvaged. I thought I was okay with losing them all, but the more I’ve thought about it, and thought about how my jaw has already shifted, the more scared I am that fully removing them will make it all worse. I have the space for them. If they’re removed, I’m just going to have... weird empty space?? And no teeth there for when I’m chewing??  Teeth are so stupid. I hate them. I need them. 

Mental health. Hahahaha. But for real. A psych who won’t just try to shove prozac on me. One who will give me the time of day to go through diagnosis criteria for things beyond the Big D. Sure my depression is bad, and it’s at the front of my miserable mental marching band, but my anxiety has got to the point where I’ve got painful physical symptoms, and my un-diagnosed/untreated adhd sure isn’t making any of that easier. Maybe I could finally get a lucky break with medication/treatment for one of those, and actually get some relief. Especially with the anxiety and adhd. I feel like there might be less total drugs available? So less total experimentation possible?? Maybe just wishful thinking...  And... therapy? Actual therapy??? Maybe??? I’m jaded as cynical as fuck and I know a lot of methods of therapy won’t work for me BECAUSE of how my particular pudding cup of brain fuck is mis-wired - but I’d love help. I want and need help. But it has to actually BE help. “Sometimes just talking it out helps” NOPE. N-O-P-E. I’m long past that point, honey darling dear!! I need actionable help! Techniques, challenges, tools - not just a sympathetic ear. Believe it or not, I’ve got that covered! Me, myself, and I - oh, we talk. We talk PLENTY. Relentlessly, endlessly, brutally - it’s covered. 

I learned what city he lives in.  I looked it up.  I could be there in 14 hours. It would take about $130 in gas, though. One-way.  It’s just slightly further than Manning - the place I used to stop overnight on my FL trips. It’s 120 miles further west. That’s it. A handful of hours between the two places.  It’s a fairly small city. Low cost of living. Low minimum wage, as a result - matches federal. It’s right against the state border. Hell, it might technically span into the adjoining state.  It has a surprising amount of golf course land. Population is not majority-white.  I don’t want to overdo this. But I can’t help how badly I want to know things when I’m interested. When I care.  My heart hurts. I hate that I’m like this. 

I wanted to sleep more. I’ve been up for about 4 hours. Before that, I slept for maybe 3? And before that I was up for... 5? And before that, I was in bed most of yesterday, but it was just wishing I was sleeping for hours and hours and hours, and only actually being asleep for about 2. 

I ate leftovers for dinner, instead of what was made. I had reheated pasta with meat sauce and veggies, instead of a plain breaded chicken patty and More Fucking Potatoes (pierogies). I think my brother ate what I didn’t. Which is fine. No leftovers to juggle. No food wasted.  I ate some of sister’s culinary leftovers for breakfast. Some risotto. Not sure exactly what kind. Apparently it came home with shrimp - mom ate those. I don’t know if I’ve had risotto before. It was good, but I took too much and it was tasting extra salty before I tapped out.  I made a cup of coffee again, too. I’m beginning to see the caffeine/adhd stability correlation in myself. Don’t know how to feel about that. 

I need to double-drive again today. Pick sister up. Drop sister off.  I wanted to try to shop a bit yesterday, but I was way too tired. I was also supposed to have a friend help me tackle some of the doctor-hunting yesterday, too. But... too tired. 

It’s 10 AM. I’ve got 2.5 hours until I need to drive.  I’m restless. I’m tired.  I probably can’t sleep but I’m going to try I guess. Or just sit here stalling out for 150 straight minutes until I have to go. idk.

#personal

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Okay, so let me take this back to a week or two ago.

I owe one of my roommates 1200 dollars. My rent is 800 bills included. I make ten dollars over what counts for me getting no food stamps of financial assistance. I kept going to this job, because i was hoping that an opening would soon happen for me to get a job that i had before the closure of the other location. The explanation of this, in order to make it remotely interesting, would be a story in and of itself and would take too long.

I have had a rough go of it. I fell back into an eating disorder this winter, i went to home feeling sick and cold and heartbroken. Every night. I was completely isolated, i never went to anyone's house, i stopped even seeing a future for myself. the best days i had were ones where i would walk around the mall and stare at clothing i couldn't afford. Because the guy i was in love with randomly flipped on me one morning and told me to leave. I felt completely used, and gross about myself, and i just stopped eating. My bus home always took an hour and a half, i was shaking starving and so fucking poor that even if i wanted to eat more i couldn't afford it. I wanted to cry on the bus after work every night, but i forced myself to choke it down. I listened to last podcast on the left constantly to entertain myself. I texted him even though he had hurt me, and he ran back and apologized after, but somehow it was never the same. I'm not even mad. It just wasn't the same.

Anyway, i snapped about three weeks ago. I woke up, did my budget, and realize the reason i was having such a hard time was that i was literally not making enough money. Everything was about suppression and reduction of needs, to the point where i had very few enjoyments, and i was becoming so lonely i was becoming neurotic. And the more neurotic and lonely i became, i feel like the less people would want to hang out with me. After awhile, any attention i got from this guy was better than nothing. If i didn't have someone that paid some attention to me i was losing my will to even get up in the morning. Because what is the point of getting up for nothing, to do another day that makes you sad, with no purpose or friends? I felt like i was withering away, and nobody would even notice when i was finally just gone. I mean, maybe that is for the best, but i don't know. I feel like the initial love i poured into coming to this city has become dark and uncertain, and i miss the early days a lot. I feel like i am always chasing a feeling, that i am whatever chemical combination is hitting my neurotransmitters.

I made the decision to find a better job, realizing I wasn't going to get out of this mess unless i had money to at least rid myself of the basic and constant fear of not having enough. I'm tired of being in debt. So, i kinda did that. I ended up getting offered this job, and i just let myself run around with my money moreso, for the last few weeks with the mindset that i would have at least seven hundred more a month. I stopped dieting (unfortunately gaining back some weight). It's not that i don't need to diet, but i need something to distract myself if i am going to run around shaking with hunger all the time. I can't live on self hatred, at least not for too long.

Then, the covid 19 virus just started spreading, and at first it was nothing, but then i kind of turned into this thing where sickly people are going down in numbers.  And now nobody is going to hire me because all restaurants are closed and the economy fell apart and everyone is pretty scared, i got laid off from the place i work at now, which i feel like it's not even going to reopen at this point. Thousands of workers in the city just like me now have no way to pay their rent, meanwhile the hospitals will likely continue to fill with patients, and grocery stores are half empty, and this is just a small taste of what the future likely holds. So even when this virus comes and goes and does it's damage, i think things like this are just going to keep happening. And rich people will be fine, but poor people won't be. I mean, funny memes aside. Our entire economic system and healthcare system and so many things are going to collapse in my lifetime, it seems futile to even try to make it now. I know that sounds really pesimistic.

The last few weeks i have been meeting him in secret, but he's not really cuddly like before, and he seems like he wants me to be gone when he's done with me, and he dotes on his other friends and I just feel very taken for granted and when we are with our friends who aren't supposed to know, i just don't feel like someone he's that excited to be around. And he seems to engage in conversation, but with me he just kind of talks over me to imply i am dumb, and i get tired of that. Honestly, there is nothing endearing about it. It's insulting and tiring and i am so deeply worried about the world around me, that even my own heartbreak seems like nothing. I am genuinely very scared about the state of the world, and even an idea relationship would not save me from this. Like, yeah, i feel really used and hurt, but also we are losing animal species and the ocean is polluted and there is a pandemic, and overpopulation in certain areas of the world that are going to be swallowed by global warming. Sometimes this train of thought takes me into an entire three sixty because i wonder if it isn't just best to enjoy every person and experience for what it is because my life might not give me that much to look forward to in the future, and there is only so much i can do to fix the world or the people in it. Do i really want to put my foot down and tell him i don't want to see him anymore, when he's the only person i have, and i know too that he struggles with addiction?

Furthermore, my brother panicked and lost his mind and went on attack towards my sister who he was living with, and now he's moving back with my abusive parents. That's a whole story in and of itself. And that is that. I won't be seeing him anymore. He was so scared about economic and societal collapse. And then my workplace wrote me and said they don't have money to even give me my last paycheck, and i am lucky that my old dad is working overtime at the factory to send me money. Honestly, i was panicked before, but now i just feel resigned and afraid. It helps that there is no way i can get evicted right now, but at this point i just have a bad feeling that things are just going to keep getting worse.

I feel like poor people are being spread too thin, and it's going to eventually create a sense of rage. It's been happening for a long time. They just keep cutting programs, or making it harder to afford rent, or go to school. For instance, i have a friend who is an ambulance driver. He makes twelve dollars an hour, he's literally scraped up dead children off the side of the road, but he doesn't get free healthcare. If he ends up on the other end of his ambulance van he's fucked. It's stuff like this that is unbelievable. You'd think someone with his job of all people would be more than entitled to free healthcare, not that we all don't, but like, it might come with some benefits given he works in the industry and the level of seriousness his job entails. But there aren't any. And truly, he doesn't even make as much hourly as someone who works in a restaurant. It's nonsense. And it's accepted. And we need ambulance drivers.

Anyway, there is a lot that branches off. I don't know what direction i should go in, the mental health aspect of myself, or my family dynamics, the economy, the healthcare industry, my personal strifes, my conflicting relationship stuff, or what the future holds. All i can say is i feel terribly alone and terribly scared and it's hard to articulate it or feel grounded in myself at all. Sometimes it's like a numbness that tells you to keep pushing forward because it's the routine and it's supposed to lead to somewhere, right? I feel like in the last year, i am learning how to put my foot down and say no. I am learning to love people and know i am not loved back, and not even care anymore. I am also exhausted. When i am not around people, i fall asleep. A mysterious exhaustion i have never had before has taken over and i really just want to sleep for days and days straight, and some little part of me just wonders if it wouldn't be better if i didn't wake up again. I am not suicidal, but what's the point?

And I guess lastly, who am I to even complain? So many people have had it worse and now everyone is falling apart and struggling around me, so I am nothing special. It’s just hard to know what to do right now. There seems to be no distraction from the nothingness of it all.