medic's face on things

Can ya believe that about a month ago I nearly ended it? Now I’m about to go and talk to my (first ever) therapist about all the things that have recently happened that is making my life worth living. Life’s weird, ya guys. Thanks for not giving up on me!

Something You’ve Forgotten (Part1)

[Sorry about my non-update of Yasmine Hearts. I’m getting to it, sorry! Once again, let me know if you want to be in the tag list for this fic.]

Tag List: @xx-thedarklord-xx @rmh8402

Draco groaned, a light blinding his closed eyelids, his head pounding as if he was hit by the Hogwarts Express. He heard people rushing around, footsteps and questions being thrown at him, though things were happening too quickly, he couldn’t differentiate anything. What was happening? Where was he?

Draco opened his eyes and glanced around, vaguely wondering if the white walls and hospital bed were of St Mungo’s, since this obviously wasn’t the Hogwart’s infirmary. He blinked a few times, glancing around until he spied doctors and nurses crowding his bed, all falling quiet suddenly after a loud insistence from who he assumed was the head doctor.

“Can you tell me your name?”

That was silly, “Draco Malfoy,” He supplied easily, resisting the urge to roll his eyes in case it sent a blast of pain coursing through his head that was really not needed.

“Do you know where you are?”

This was less easy, though he supplied his findings, “St Mungo’s, I assume. This doesn’t look anything like the Hogwarts infirmary, and everyone here is new.” A quiet stillness held the air suddenly as the Healers glanced at one another. The main one kept his eyes firmly placed on Draco.

“What is the last thing you remember?” Draco opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again. What was the last thing he remembered? He was sitting through Advanced Potions, taking his NEWTs- no, he was boarding Hogwarts Express once he finally graduated… Was that it? Perhaps he was hit by a train.

“I was boarding Hogwarts Express-” Draco began, before suddenly being interrupted by a nearby door being burst open, the sound of a few people rushing in.

“You can’t keep me from him!”

“Sir, please, you have to wait until the Healer gives permission-”

“Who is it? Jason? Matilda?” That voice sounded so familiar, it was on the tip of his tongue. Wait- no, it couldn’t be who he thought it was. Potter’s voice wasn’t that low, wasn’t that mature.

Surely enough, Potter rounds the corner looking much too attractive to Draco’s horror. He also looked older, with stubble growing on his chin and slightly longer hair pulled back into a loose bun that wasn’t exactly helping much as curls kept falling out the more he moved. He seemed to be getting poorly restrained by a small nurse as she attempted to push him back the way he came, but he held firm as he glanced at the lead Healer, then over and meeting Draco’s own eyes. “Draco.” The way he said it, his voice was breathy and hesitant, though his eyes showed so much gratitude and relief. Who the fuck does he think he is?

“Potter?” Draco exclaimed loudly, his brow furrowed and a picture perfect face of confusion and exasperation. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Draco growled out, shaking his head and blinking wildly. Surely he was seeing things wrong. He watched as the relief slowly drained out of him, his eyes widening and looking wildly frantic as he glanced back at the lead Healer.

“Jason, please tell me-”

“Harry, you’re going to have to wait in the sitting room. I’m not finished evaluating.”

“Jason, please-”

“Go!” His Healer’s voice was firm, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared at Potter. The git had the nerve to glance back at Draco before slowly backing away, turning and disappearing behind Draco’s medical curtains once again. Draco huffed, rolling his eyes and looking back at the lead Healer- or, Jason.

“Well that was bloody unexpected.” Draco mumbled, shaking his head as most of the nurses or healers surrounding him started backing off, walking out of view. Jason walked closer to his bed, placing a hand on his forehead and flashing a light in his eyes irritatingly.

“Not really,” Jason replied vaguely, and Draco attempted to furrow his brow under Jason’s hand.

“What do you mean?” Draco watched as Jason straightened up, eyeing Draco for a moment before pulling a rolling stool up and sitting, lifting a board up and writing some notes with a quill.

“Please continue what you were saying before the interruption,” Was his only reply, and Draco couldn’t hold back his eyeroll this time before wiggling in his bed, trying to get more comfortable in the stiff mattress.

“Okay, well, I was stepping onto Hogwarts Express. I just graduated my eighth year, I remember that. And wasn’t that just a bloody awful time. I was trying to find an empty compartment to sit in since everyone was giving me murderous glares, but I couldn’t find any.” Draco snapped his fingers, pointing at the Healer, “Perhaps that’s what happened. Those bloody gits probably attacked me.” He nodded toward the Healer, a slight pain shooting through his head but nothing he couldn’t handle. The Healer just stared, unamused, and he sighed, continuing. “Okay, I remember walking halfway down the train, opening a compartment and seeing-” He hesitated, the words caught in his mouth. Who did he see there? He furrowed his brow, closing his mouth he realized was still hanging open, and glanced back over toward him nervously. “That’s all.”

“You don’t remember who you saw?” Jason asked, pressing the bottom of the board against his legs and resting one arm against the top, watching Draco curiously.

“No,” Draco replied quietly, shaking his head lightly. “Well this is just a weird day,” Draco mumbled, raising a hand to rub his forehead. He noticed Jason tracking his movements closely, nodding and jotting something down on his board before standing and moving toward the end of his bed.

“Wait, Healer?” Draco asked uncertainly, glancing up and watching as the man hesitated, turning and studying the injured boy. “Why did Potter come running in here? If it was the wrong room, surely he would’ve immediately left and not kept arguing.” He watching Jason sigh, rubbing his face before shaking his head.

“I didn’t want to be the one to say it.”

“Say what?”

“You and Potter are in a relationship Draco. It’s been five years since you last stepped onto the Hogwarts Express.”


Draco’s scream could be heard down the hall, carried throughout the whole building, out the front door and down the street, and carried onto the wind throughout the whole world. At least, Draco thought so.

“What the fuck do you mean I’m dating Harry bloody Potter?” He could feel his cheeks heating up, along with his nose, neck, chest- he was blushing madly and he hated it. So what that git was attractive, and held a fierce loyalty one could only wish for in a partner. The man was his rival- rather, ex-rival- and the man wasn’t even gay! Or… Wait, if they were dating, that would mean that he was gay, right?

“I really think you should talk to him about that, Mr. Malfoy.” The end of the conversation was signalled by Jason just up and leaving Draco lying in his cot, mind completely blown and scattered throughout the room. He tried to wrap his head around everything. So, this meant he lost his memory? Five years of it? Wait- he was five years older than he remembers. Just minutes ago he was eighteen and now, what, he was twenty three years old? Where did he live now, what was his job?

He heard the soft click of the door closing, and wondered to himself if that was Jason leaving, or someone coming into his room. The question was quickly answered when he saw a messy haired man peek his head around the medical curtain. He scanned Potter’s face, since that was the only thing he could see from here aside from the shadow body behind the curtain, and perceived horror and anxiety written across his features. The bloody git, Draco was the one who couldn’t remember anything about his life.

“What are you doing over there Potter? Come to spy on me again like in sixth year?” Draco sneered, turning his head away from the man and huffing, crossing his arms across his chest. Then, realizing he was still laying down and therefore in a vulnerable position, he quickly sat up and leaned against the wall behind him, resuming the position.

“You- you really don’t remember me?” Potter whispered, coming out from behind the curtain and taking a few tentative steps toward Draco.

“Of course I remember you, you bloody git,” Draco spat out, shooting a glare toward him, “Boy saviour, golden boy, The-Boy-Who-Lived. The boy who tried to make my school life a living hell, more like.” Draco coughed, glancing away from Potter’s stricken face. He started to feel a little guilty. He had already gotten over everything before, even wanted to apologize to him before all of this, and he knew he was just lashing out because he was caught by surprise. He felt vulnerable still, and hated it.

“You don’t remember our dates?” Potter walked slowly toward the edge of the bed, reaching out slowly to trace his fingers along Draco’s arm. It was unfair how Potter’s scent was so strong, clogging his senses and making him dizzy. “You don’t remember our first kiss?” Draco turned his head back and let his eyes wander up toward Potter’s face, their gazes meeting. “You don’t remember what happened before the-” Potter’s voice cracked, and he lowered his gaze toward where he had his hand resting on Draco’s arm now.

“The what? What happened?” Draco pressed, uncrossing his arms and moving it away from Potter’s grasp. He watched a careful emotion flicker across his face before he took a few steps back from the bed, keep his gaze away from Draco’s.

“The explosion. You hit your head on some bricks, you were bleeding everywhere. I was so worried, Draco.” His voice cracked again and he closed his eyes, bringing a fist up and biting it as if it could hold back the choked sobs he was emitting quietly.

“Why would you be worried about me?” Draco shook his head, his gaze moving away from the aged boy he once knew, flicking toward his arm. “I’m just a-” He hesitated, his eyes widening as he takes in the colours on his left arm. Flowers, everywhere. A multitude of them, though he could pick out the majority of them being narcissas, and he choked back a sob as he quickly lifted his arm for a closer inspection. They filled his entire forearm, covering the black ink he knew was hiding underneath.

“You don’t remember getting that?” Potter asked carefully, taking a step forward and placing his hands against the metal bar on the side of the bed. “Oh, wait- of course you wouldn’t. I was there when you did it.” Draco rolled his eyes at this, shooting a glare up toward the annoying boy.

“It’s not that I solely don’t remember you and whatever relationship we had, Potter. I don’t remember anything past graduation.” He ran his right hand over his arm, shaking his head slowly as he eyed the details. It looked good, he had to admit. He was never one for flowers, though something nagged in the back of his mind. Something he couldn’t quite grasp.

“Call me Harry, please.” The beg drew his attention, raising his eyebrows and resting his gaze upon Potter once more. “This is hard enough without hearing you call me that.”

“Potter is your name-”

“Please,” Potter begged, and something in his eyes twisted Draco’s gut in an unpleasant way. Glancing away, and wiggling slightly under the intense stare, Draco just sighed and shook his head.

“Sure Po- Harry. Sure.” Draco tried to tell himself he wasn’t pleased when he heard Potter’s sigh of relief, or saw Potter’s grin split across his face as if he was truly happy for this. This was all too much. “Look, I need some time to think-”

“Draco,” Potter interrupted, grinning and reaching forward to take the hand that had been running across the tattoo. Draco was half tempted to withdraw it, but the weight of the strong hands comforted him slightly in this weird time.


“I’m going to help you remember me. Remember us.”

“Po- Harry,” Draco began, shooting a glance up toward the man before shaking his head and keeping his gaze anywhere but toward him. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“I’ll make it work like that. Besides, someone once called me a ‘stubborn git who always gets what he wants,’ so I have no doubt that this’ll work.” Potter’s grip tightened slightly against his hand, and Draco just huffed a response.

“And who was the idiot who told you that?”


Positivity Charm (A Jar Spell)

Lately my family has been facing a lot of negative things from medical accidents, to friends passing away, to needing unexpected maintenance on some appliances. It just feels like we can’t catch a break. 

So I threw together a little jar spell to bring some happiness, luck, and positivity back into our lives.


Bay Leaf- healing, love, protection, purification, and strength

Cinnamon- fortune, healing, and protection

Coffee- banishment and happiness

Daffodil- fortune and love

Lavender- happiness, love, peace, protection, and purification


I layered in a jar coffee grounds, cinnamon, lavender and a dash of salt that I decided to throw in last minute. I then wrote out the words “happiness”, “positivity”, “strength”, “luck”, and “healing” on a bay leaf. I burnt the leaf in a fire safe container. Half of it turned to ash and blew away, because I was doing this outside. The other half was more charred than burnt. I layered that on top of the other ingredients. Then I placed a dried daffodil on top of the layered ingredients.

I then said a blessing for my family asking for happiness and luck to be on our sides. After saying the blessing and with the intent of bringing about positivity for my family I sealed the jar with white wax. Any color wax will work. In place of wax, you could use a ribbon or something else.


To strengthen the spell and to keep attracting the happiness, luck, and positivity I keep the jar on top of an oak leaf. Oak leaves are associated with fortune, healing, and protection. I surrounded the jar with crystals. The crystals I used were citrine (happiness, healing, and purification), lapis lazuli (banishment, happiness, love, peace, and protection), malachite (courage, fortune, healing, love, and protection), and rose quartz (happiness and love).

anonymous asked:

If you were pennywise what would be your opinion of everyone in the loser’s club?

did you mean soft Roast Time

Bill: the Tall stuttering boy who just…. can’t give up like… boy, take a break, you won’t be able to kill me, your brother is dead so Calm Down and let me have my cool nap for fuck’s sake

Bev: the Fighter girl? her life is already a mess? Great! let’s transform it into a Bigger Mess™ also, this girl is really brave; I admire that.

Mike: this boy isn’t even able to kill a sheep, how could he be able to kill m…. oh…. he….he killed a dude…… well alright.. 

Stan: look at those neat clothes, do you really think this boy could go into My sewers? he won’t even go into his own garden; too scared to get dirty. don’t make me laugh

Ben: this boy couldn’t even kill a Fly, I mean, have you looked at him?? he is a lonely innocent child who spends his time at the library. Scaring him is so funny, you should see his face.

Eddie: what’s up with this medication thing, is this the new trend for young people or something?? also Two Fanny Packs?? this boy is way too small and too fragile to fight me, he doesn’t even know how to breath proprely, how could he even be able to think about fighting me 


Hypochondria - Eddie Kaspbrak - Imagine

Originally posted by ohpennywise

Fandom: IT

Request:  Can you write an imagine with Eddie where the reader wants to be a nurse and she helps him with his hypochondria? Thank you!

Word Count: 354 Words

Character Count: 2080 Characters

Estimated Reading Time: 1 Minutes, 24 Seconds

Warnings: None

Authors Notes: Enjoy!

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I Know What's Best ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

Okay so i got a really kind and lovely prompt from an immensely complimentive anon and hoooooo BOI I HOPE YOU’RE ALL READY FOR SOME TEASING BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL AM NOT…..LET’S DO THIS!!!

Bim was nervous, even though mentally he knew it was silly. It was a doctor’s check-up, and it was going to be carried out by one of his friends no less?! God Bim pull yourself together, you have no reason to be nervous. None at all….and yet…..Bim sighed to himself as he sat in the small waiting room, thinking to himself. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous….he just had this strange nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something was going to happen. Bim’s brain wasn’t being very specific, which was annoying, so Bim tried to ignore the little nagging sensation. His hands fiddled in his lap as he looked around, he was surprised to see that he was the only patient waiting…..but Bim didn’t question it. He was about to sneak a peek at the clock again before one of the check-up rooms opened and a nurse came out, smiling gently as she approached him.

‘Bim Trimmer? He’s ready for you.’

Bim smiled as he stood, smoothing out his suit as he followed the woman through the door she’d come from. Bim relaxed a little at the sight of Iplier sat at his desk, and he looked up to Bim with a kind smile as he stood.

‘Ah Bim, excellent. We should be good nurse.’

The nurse nodded and promptly left, shutting the door behind he with a small click, thus leaving Bim and the medical man alone in the consultation room, which also had a patient bench…..which actually looked rather comfy. Iplier stood and paced round to where Bim was stood, a wide smile on his face.

'How are you doing Bim? No pressing medical things you need me to address first?’

Bim smiled in response as he shook his head, he was already beginning to relax at Iplier’s kindly tone; and he was at the point where he was questioning what on earth he’d been so nervous about in the first place.

'No, no I’m pretty sure I’m fighting fit.’

Iplier grinned as he clapped a hand on his shoulder, and began leading Bim to the patient bench as he talked.

'That’s what I like to hear, but I’m just going to do all the basic checks to be safe. Skeletal and joint integrity, muscle response, nerve response…..’

As Bim perched on the bench he let out a small snicker, looking to Iplier with a wide grin.

'I’m not gonna pretend to know what ANY of that means.’

Iplier let out a gentle chuckle as he began slipping on his mandatory latex gloves, he grinned widely at Bim before leaning forward and pretending to whisper.

'It’s fancy wording for “check all the right shit works”. But don’t tell anyone I told you!’

Bim giggled before miming zipping his lips shut, he legs were swinging a little…..since his feet couldn’t touch the floor when he was sat on the bench but that’s not an important factor pffft Bim’s not a midget or anything. Said man had by this point taken his shoes off and tentatively laid himself on the bench…..and it was in fact immensely comfy. As Iplier tested his stethoscope on his own chest he flicked his eyes to Bim.

'I’m gonna need you topless too.’

Bim immediately grinned wider as he shot the doctor an exaggerated expression of flirtatiousness, whilst also placing his hand on his chest; his eyes narrowed seductively.

'Why doctor…..’

Iplier couldn’t help but snigger as he sent Bim a wink, before rolling his eyes and speaking through small chuckles.

'Belieheve me, ihif that was going to behe the case I would have ahat least dimmed the lights. I have some class…..’

Bim giggled again lightly as he stripped off his jacket, neck-tie and shirt, which Iplier took from him and set on his desk in a neatly folded pile. As Iplier turned back to him, he grinned widely before he fanned himself lightly whilst gesturing to Bim’s topless form.

'Oh sweet lord…..’

Bim used a hand to cover his mouth as giggles streamed from him, and his cheeks were even going a little pink at the doctor’s silliness. Iplier found himself grinning fondly at Bim’s giddy and relaxed state, a lesser known fact was that Iplier got all of his patients into this state one way or another before he actually started whatever procedure needed to be done. He always felt that a happier patient was a more relaxed patient and a more relaxed patient meant Iplier could get his job done with less awkwardness and discomfort; it was always his key aim. 

'Oho my god stohop!’

Iplier cackled gently as he came over to Bim, who had rested his arms at his sides.

'Ahalright, alright I’m done. Ohokay so first things first breathe in for me…..’

The check-up was going well, Iplier managed to check Bim's breathing capabilities and the mobility of his muscles and so far he was indeed fighting fit. Apart from a few little back strains from Warfstache working him too hard, he was doing pretty good from Iplier’s perspective. Now came for the bone and nerve checks, these were often able to be carried out relatively easily since all Iplier had to do was have a bit of a feel around. Bim meanwhile was also feeling pretty content by this point, what had he even been worried about?

'Okay I just need you to raise your arms so I can check your ribs now…..’

Bim complied as he raised his arms above his head, a small chill went down his spine as the cool air hit his ribs, but he nevertheless relaxed. Iplier leant forward and placed the tips of his fingers on either side of Bim’s ribcage, starting at the top, and he lightly pressed and rubbed at the upper bones just so he coul-

'AH! Wahait!’

Iplier very nearly jumped out of his skin at Bim’s outburst, and he immediately stopped in his rubbing for fear of having hurt him. He looked to Bim’s face and started to try and deduce how much pain he was in.

'Oh god did that hurt? What kind of pain was it? How would you place it on a scale of 1-10, 1 bein-’

’D-dohoc it’s fine! It uh….it didn’t hurt, you just surprised me that’s all…..’

Bim spoke hurriedly, immediately wanting to dissuade Iplier from thinking that he’d caused him pain…..because in this situation that was certainly not the correct diagnosis. At Bim’s words Iplier immediately relaxed…..but then his insatiable curiosity had reared its head. Iplier had spontaneously checked other areas like this and Bim hadn’t reacted so abruptly then, so what was different now? He narrowed his eyes at Bim and the latter could feel himself shrinking back a little under the doctor’s analytical gaze.

'Hm…..are you quite sure that your surprise was the only thing that prompted your reaction?’

Bim didn’t hesitate to nod, he knew that if Iplier underwent a realisation about his…..sensitivity, he would be utterly screwed. Bim’s cheeks were pink once again as he nodded….but he couldn’t keep the frantic and insistent nature of it at bay.

'Yes I swear i-it was just my s-surprise! Nothing else, honestly!’

Iplier let out a light hum as his mind worked away, his gaze took in Bim’s seemingly desperate demeanour. He knew Bim was lying…..but he couldn’t yet figure out exactly what it was that Bim was trying so hard to cover up. Hmmm…..Iplier suddenly smiled gently with his narrowed eyes, he leant forward as he spoke.

'You see Bim…..I just have this feeling that you’re lying to me…..’

Bim gulped a little as he squirmed on the bench, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable as Iplier got closer to him…..and extended his hands back to his ribs.

'Nonono I’m not I’m not!’

'Oh really?’

Iplier’s voice was harsh and stern, making Bim’s cheeks darken as his gazed became fixed upon Iplier’s hands which were inching ever closer. In the space of a millisecond, Iplier’s fingertips were back to prodding and rubbing at his upper ribs…..and Iplier’s keen eyes were fixed on Bim. The latter couldn’t escape or hide it anymore, he yipped as frantic giggles left his lips as he looked at Iplier imploringly.

'Dohohohon’t dohohohoho ihihit!’

A wave of realisation passed through Iplier…..and the first thought that ran through his mind was the incredulousness that Bim could get any more adorable, which Iplier personally thought would have been an impossible feat for the already immensely cute man. It seems Iplier was mistaken. But now the doctor finally knew what was happening…..he was going to have a LOT of fun with his patient.

'Oh Bim! Oh how could I have been so blind to your ailment!’

Iplier spoke with dramatized woe as he moved his hands to the middle of Bim’s ribcage, where the pads of his fingers vibrated and massaged every inch of ticklish skin Bim had. Bim meanwhile was getting progressively more embarrassed and giggly as he looked at Iplier with a wide-eyed expression of apprehension.

'Wh-whahahahat dohoho yohohou mehehean?!’

Iplier was trying so hard to maintain a serious façade, and as of now he was doing quite well. He decided to stand up so he was leaning over Bim menacingly, and he relished in the nervous shiver that he managed to elicit with his movements alone. Iplier’s tone deepened as he spoke solemnly.

'I am afraid that you have a severe case……’

Iplier paused for a effect as he also paused his fingers, thus keeping Bim in jittery suspense. Then suddenly his hands shot up to scratch and scribble in the hollows of Bim’s underarms as he exclaimed.

'Of Ticklish-Liaritis!’

Bim burst into snorting cackles as his arms came slamming down, but nothing could stop the shocks and ticklish waves that Iplier’s skilled fingertips unloaded.


Iplier let his eyes widen as he expelled a loud gasp, opening his mouth wide at Bim to present his strong indignance and offense…..which to Iplier’s amusement only seemed to make Bim laugh harder.

'How…..DARE you! Here I am, trying to HELP you if you please! And here you are, being silly and giggly in the middle of my procedure whilst you question my credibility as a doctor?!’

Bim could only laugh and squirm as he blushed harder at Iplier’s reprimanding, his grin was wider than it had probably ever been before as his mirth and embarrassment intermingled like butterflies in his tummy.


Iplier fought back a wide smirk as he lessened up on the wiggling of his fingers, but he still kept them moving so Bim could stay encased in his little world of giggles.

'Mmmmm I guess you can be excused for your rudeness, this is clearly your affliction talking…..’

Bim giggled squeakily as he tried to hide his face in his shoulder, his breath was jittery and jumpy……and he mumbled embarrassedly.

’……hohow doho wehe fihix ihihihit?’

Iplier was taken aback…..Bim actually wanted him to continue? Iplier observed him, his rouged cheeks, his wide smile…..his flusteredness. Iplier aww'ed internally, well if Bim was enjoying himself then who was he to cut it short? Iplier’s eyes were shining as he looked down at Bim, his medical persona back in place. 

'Well…..I’m going to need to see how far it’s spread of course, to see how much of your body has been affected by it…..’

Iplier fought back a grin at Bim’s visible gulp, and yet no protest came forth. Bim only nibbled his lip and remained relatively silent, with the odd giggle slipping out. Iplier thought for a moment….until he let his eyes rest on Bim’s bare stomach.

'Perhaps your tummy would be a good place to start this investigation?’

Over the past few minutes, Bim’s clamped arms had been gradually un-tensing which allowed Iplier to now remove his hands from his hollows; not without a few skitters here and there though. Bim was yipping and giggling gently now, and in his mind he couldn’t believe this was actually happening…..well at least he now knew what he’d been nervous about. Except….perhaps the word 'nervous’’ isn’t the correct term. You see, the truth of it is….this is precisely what Bim had been hoping for; it was practically the only reason he’d agreed to the check-up. In the hopes of being tickled. Well he’d certainly got his wish, since Iplier’s fingertips were now gently tracing over his belly.

'Ohohoho gohohohosh……’

Iplier furrowed his eyebrows with mock concern, keeping up the teasing lightness so he could watch Bim squirm and giggle…..and from Iplier’s point of view it actually seemed like Bim was squirming INTO his fingertips; this was too damn precious.

'Dear oh dear, yes this is quite a serious case……my goodness you poor thing, I can’t imagine how horrid this affliction must be for you…..’

Bim’s cheeks seemed to get even hotter at Iplier’s devious words, and through his giggles he was gasping and squeaking like a mouse that had just run a marathon.

'Ohohoho my gohohohod shuhuhut uhuhuhup!’

Bim spoke in a giggly whimper, thus making Iplier harden his touch……significantly. There was no warning, not even a transition into scratches. Iplier just straight up dug his fingers into Bim’s abdominals, squeezing all over Bim’s poor tummy and even his sides; for added research. Amidst his ruthless onslaught however, Iplier’s vernacular remained perfectly nonchalant.

'I know it’s difficult to hear Bim, but I’m just in awe of how you’ve coped with it before coming to see me! Being so sensitive all the time… must be pure hell.’

Bim wholeheartedly agreed. This was pure hell…..and yet heaven simultaneously. He thrashed and laughed wildly as his dimples shone through from his wide, and very nearly insane, smile; whilst also trying to curl up on himself.


Iplier sighed at Bim’s hysteria, keeping up the ruthlessness by deciding to torment Bim’s belly button and waistline simultaneously. Iplier was quite proud of the fact he’d managed to keep up his stoic composure unlike Bim… be fair though Bim was the one being tickle-tortured so he was at a slight disadvantage. Iplier tutted a little as he spoke, all the while Bim was bucking and writhing.

'Ah yes, incoherency and loss of muscular control…..such terrible side effects…..’

Iplier decided to lessen the relentlessness, settling for tracing Bim’s belly and sides once again as Bim hastened to catch his breath and look up at his professional tormentor.

'Thihihis ihihis ehevihil!’

Iplier donned a sympathetic expression, all the while Bim giggled residually.

'I know…..I feel nothing but sympathy, I can assure you…..’

Bim resisted the urge to fling forth a retort, he knew damn well that Iplier was just being a mischievous shit. Speaking of said mischievousness…..Iplier knew that Bim probably thought he was done being ruthless, or in fact that he was done all together and that he was going to drop his façade. He was going to, very soon in fact…..but there was something he needed to do first.


Iplier felt his heart melt at Bim’s words…..the fact that he seemed so grateful, it just made Iplier feel honoured at the fact that Bim was his friend. The doctor smiled at Bim, all the while perceiving how progressively relaxed the man became with every passing second…..and it was now. Just after Bim had spoken….this was the doctor’s cue.

'You are most welcome.’

And with that statement…..Iplier grinned. A wide, and slightly feral, grin as he suddenly launched himself at Bim and buried his face in his neck…..where he unleashed raspberry upon messy raspberry, whilst barely stopping to breathe.


Bim screeched in surprise as he scrunched his shoulders and immediately started pushing at the doctor’s shoulders, which unfortunately did him no good as Iplier’s sloppy raspberry/nibbling attack continued.

'I still need a decent diagnosis!’

Iplier exclaimed as Bim wailed and cackled…..but then he screamed. For Iplier had decide to spontaneously reach behind him and squeeze the tops of his thigh muscles… could say that Bim noticed.


Iplier chuckled as he scratched and pinched at the, now heavily flailing, muscles all the while he messily nibbled at Bim’s ears.

'If I am to diagnose you properly, I need to carry out as much experimentation as possible!’


'Uhhh yes I dooooo!’

Iplier grinned at Bim’s protests, but was conscious of the fact that Bim’s strength to fight back was waning and the doctor certainly did not want to end up causing any real ailments to arise. Iplier started by letting up on Bim’s thighs, so that his reactions dimmed down from their hysteria gradually, and then relented on his ears and neck. Iplier did this because he was conscious of Bim’s breathing. If he had relented instantly, there would have been a lot of confusion for Bim’s lungs because of the sudden change in Bim’s body’s need for oxygen; but by doing it gradually, Iplier was allowing Bim’s lungs to get back to functioning at a steady rate by GETTING to that rate, in a less abrupt manner. He’s a doctor, he knows what’s best.

'Fuhuhuck Ihi thihihink Ihi’m dyihihing…..’

Bim gasped as he let his head fall back and rest whilst his eyes fluttered shut, his chest rose and fell slowly as his breathing rate turned to normal. Bim could still feel his legs, neck, ears and the entirety of his torso tingling from the aftermath…..Bim had never been tickled like that in his life. By god he loved it.

'Ihi can assure you Bim, that you are alive and….“fighting fit”.’

Bim felt himself smile at Iplier’s voice and at how it copied his earlier words. He opened his eyes and turned to the owner of that voice, who was in fact smiling gently himself as he observed his patient’s recovery. Bim slowly sat up and arched his back as he stretched, before looking to Iplier with a bashful expression.

'I-I know I uhm…..said it before but uh…..thanks.’

Iplier’s smile widened as Bim sat up further and swung his legs over the edge of the bench, the doctor’s eyes glimmered with new joy as Bim’s shone with his embarrassment and his residual mirth.

'Bim… are most welcome.’

Iplier extended his hand to Bim, who looked at it for a moment before he took it and let Iplier help him off the bench. There was silence in the room as Bim redressed himself, and smoothed himself down….particularly rubbing the tops of his legs which Iplier couldn’t help but smirk at as he sat back down at his desk. He watched as Bim turned to leave…..but then a small thought popped into his head.

'Oh Bim?’

Said man turned, curious as Iplier smiled lightly.

'Remember…’s important that you have medical check-ups regularly, to…..keep on top of your health.’

Bim felt his cheeks go pink again as his hands started fidgeting with one another, but he grinned and nodded.

’…..I’ll remember.’

Iplier grinned widely at him as Bim departed, with a new spring in his step, and it’s worth noting that Bim does in fact have very regular check-ups. I mean, why wouldn’t he take Iplier’s advice? After all…..he does know best.

Ohhhhhhh this was so fun to write holy heck TELL ME IF YA LIKE IT AHHHHH LUV YOUS XX

The fact that aspec people feel the need to repeatedly assure everyone that “we don’t mean to say we have it worse than others” when we talk about how society opresses and marginalized us, even when its not related to the oppression and marginalization of other orientations directly, makes me ache. That we’ve been so used to being dismissed and belittled that when faced with things like “its literally considered a medical problem for our orientation to exist! People feel like the eradication of our very identity is saving us! And people don’t seem to even notice that this is the case!” we feel the need to justify and appease people bc, secretly, we feel its not so bad. I hate this. It IS bad. It’s different than what ppl of other orientations face, but its still terrible, and its just as valid.

The A-Mei-Zing Outback Adventure (Chapter 23-FINAL CHAPTER)

(This is the final chapter of my first Meihem story! And I thank you all so much for reading and following along. This may be the conclusion to their Outback adventures…but it’s not the end of the MEIHEM!

If you want, head on over to my new sequel to this story:

Hot Headed, Cold Hearted

Thank you again!)

Their recovery had not been easy. Her insides had turned red and black and rebelled against her own body, the remainder of her hair had fallen from her scalp, her first attempts to eat real food had resulted in immediate and violent expulsion, and there had been nights of pain where there was no relief until she begged Angela to put her under, better to lose herself in sleep yet again than suffer any more. Junkrat and Roadhog never made any such requests, and endured the treatments with the same angry muttering and resigned stoicism with which they had faced other equally unpleasant things. Dr. Ziegler oversaw their medical recuperation with a keen eye, guiding them through their healing with the help of Ana and Lucio (Zenyatta’s offers of meditation and renewal arts had been swiftly and viciously denied) while Mei filled out pile after pile of paperwork explaining every minute detail of what had happened during their disastrous expedition into the wastes of Australia; often with Junkrat chiming in to not to forget to include some of the more ‘juicy bits’…though Mei wisely decided to leave most of his more scandalous suggestions out.

Winston and Bastion came with yet more paperwork (although this was a great deal more fun to fill out) about possible scientific excursions in the future, and her gorilla friend seemed both sincere and eager to possibly get out of the lab for a while himself, although he hoped it would go a little more smoothly than the mission to the Outback. Bastion had marked several dot locations on the world map, but merely tilted its head when asked what they were and simply pointed to them again, while Junkrat whispered suspicion and threats in the background at its strange behavior. And after that, they had a steady stream of visitors simply coming to see them; from Ana and Roadhog’s knitting club, Lucio and D.Va stopping by to play video games with Junkrat, and when Zarya had returned from a mission abroad, she had nearly crushed Mei in one of her all-encompassing bear hugs and had visited every day after that; with books, stories, and a Russian stew that she swore would make Mei feel better in no time.

Even Torbjorn had dropped by, though it was merely to drop off the newly repaired Snowball. He had painstakingly worked his way through and around Junkrat’s makeshift ‘repairs’, though even he seemed baffled by how it was functioning at all. The little drone’s AI had been transferred into a sparkling new blue hull, and its pixel eyes no longer sputtered or went randomly dead, and it no longer sounded like a flatulent oldworld modem when it beeped hello to her. Mei had been overjoyed to see it back to its old self, and it hovered over to nudge and hug into her arms…before promptly turning around and starting to flash more Mandarin curse words across its screen, aimed at Junkrat. She had been giggling too hard to really scold it as the two started fighting across the room again, and decided to leave her companions as their imperfect selves.

And they had been interviewed numerous times as they lay in their beds. Even Roadhog had been pressed for as much information as possible, though the old junker rarely offered more than his usual grunt or a shake of the head. When the dreaded questions came about Junkrat’s and Mei’s ‘relationship’, as they professionally called it, to Mei’s relief it amounted to little more than a few awkward inquiries as to their mutual consent. Winston never mentioned any more accusations of Stockholm Syndrome, and instead spent most of that interview cringing and trying to avoid any more of Junkrat’s winking and bragging about his self-proclaimed ‘irresistible animal attraction, sheer virility and amazing sexual prowess, an absolute vision in the nuddy, and hey are you writing all this down?’ while she hid her face in both hands and wished that the radiation had killed her to spare her the embarrassment.

But that had been months ago. Things were starting to get back to normal.

Her hair was starting to grow back in now, and Symmetra had kindly trimmed it into a feminine bob for her so she no longer looked like a shaggy mess. The color had returned to her face, her lungs no longer hurt when she breathed, and she had regained some of the weight she’d lost during her months of ice and fire in the desert. She was beginning to look and feel like herself again, and now she could smile when she brought up the eco-monitor program, watching the red blobs of the radioactive storms roll across the wastes. And though Overwatch couldn’t publicly take credit for her work and she had to remain a mysterious benefactor, Winston had let her know that the early warning systems she’d programmed were now a mainstay in the lives of the Outback’s inhabitants and was already saving lives.

She had helped. Despite everything, she had helped. She still couldn’t say if it had all been worth it. There was still something small and poisonous and black lurking somewhere in her, something even Mercy’s medicine couldn’t fix, something that made her angry and hurt every time she started really thinking of things…What a cost she’d paid…

But it was over, and she had helped.


Keep reading

Fic 345: If the Hat Fits

Fluffy Red Oktoberfest for you all! 100% spoiler free from today’s new comic release.

“What is this?”

The box, wrapped in plain brown paper and a twine bow, sat squarely in the middle of a rather important requisition request justification that had taken him the better half of the evening to make any headway through. Medic looked up at Heavy, who stood in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest and with an expectant look in his eye.

“Is present.”

“That much is evident.” Medic poked the side of the box with his pencil, listening for any tell tale clues, ticking clocks, hissing vipers, spring loaded gas devices, and the like. A quick glance up at Heavy didn’t help either. The giant was simply watching with an amused look across his face as Medic approached even this simple thing with the same mix of methodical care and callous disregard as he approached his surgeries.

A present. But for what? Medic racked his brain. Smissmass long since past, and neither of them ever discussed birthdays with each other. It had simply never come up. Spy could have been persuaded to part with the information, since he had no doubt already discovered it, but they were nowhere near that date either. There had been no arguments that either would need to apologize for, and even if they had, this wasn’t Heavy’s preferred method of apology. And in any rate, he was usually not the one doing the apologizing either.

There were no upcoming missions that would require additional prep. There were no upcoming unpleasant assignments that Heavy would want to avoid. The look on Heavy’s face was not the one he wore when telling him that he would be traveling back to Russia.

Medic was utterly baffled.

“I give up,” he finally replied, “Why?”

A sly smile crept onto Heavy’s face. “Does Heavy need reason?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Then open, dorogoy.”

Medit set his pencil down and pulled the package back into his lap,. His fingers played at the bow on top, the rough twine hissing over the paper as he pulled it away and let his drop to the floor with the paper following shortly after. Inside the paper was a box. A proper box of sturdy stock that was emblazoned with a stamp that he didn’t recognize but that was undoubtedly Russian. He felt Heavy’s eyes on him as he pulled off the lid to find red tissue paper beneath. As he pulled it back, his fingers brushed across something soft, furry, and absolutely lacking in a heartbeat.

“A hat?”

Heavy nodded. “Is ushanka. Special for Doktor.”

He pulled it out and turned it in his hands. An ushanka it was, indeed. Dark brown, and almost identical to the one he’d admired on Heavy many times before, but on its front was a gold cross, his own class symbol, that made it his own. He let his fingers run through the furred lining, feeling its warmth and softness, and knowing that it would be more than a match for their inevitable reassignment to Coldfort.

“What kind of fur is this?”

“Bear. Killed with Heavy’s own hands.”

He almost choked up at that. It was hard to find a good man who would kill a bear for you with his own hands and that kind of enthusiasm. Without waiting another moment, he pulled it on and dropped the flaps to let the fur tickle his ears. It fit perfectly. How, he had no idea. He almost never wore hats, and the ones that he did keep around were of the helmet variety. But the ushanka fit like a glove. Of course it did. It was from Heavy, who knew him better than anyone.

“Danke, Misha. It is wonderful.”

The Medi-gun could have been powered for days off of the wattage that came from Heavy’s smile.

“But if you do not mind me pressing,” Medic got up from his desk and made his way around to Heavy and laying his hands on those impossibly broad shoulders, “what is the occasion? If I have missed something important…”

“Nyet.” Heavy shook his head as he pulled Medic close. “Is because we go together, Doktor.”

Medic shook his head as Heavy chuckled a little at his own little joke. Matching hats for men who were a match. It was silly and juvenile, the sort of thing infatuated teenagers would do.

He loved it.

The room was warm, and his head was already getting hot, but he wouldn’t take it off. Not just yet. Not while Heavy was smiling so brightly down at him. Instead, he leaned up just enough to plant a light kiss to the tip of the big man’s nose.

“Ja. Together.”

A quick little list of things that I do for self care: easy version.

  • Make! Your! Bed! Even if you don’t have time in the morning or evening, make it in that down time you have before you go to sleep. It feels so much nicer to get into a made bed.
  • Lip balm. Holy hell, it feels nice to put on lip balm, even when my lips aren’t chapped and dry.
  • Take your god damn medication, kiddos. You’re on it for a reason. Even if it feels like it isn’t working, take it. It can be dangerous to stop suddenly! Withdrawal from medication is a real thing.
  • Wash your face. Wash it in the morning, even if it’s just with water, and wash it in the evening if you don’t have time to shower. There are a lot of nice, affordable face washes out there that are easy to use and easy on your wallet. You’ll feel a bit better, trust me.
  • Get and light a nice smelling candle.
  • Don’t listen to sad music before you go to bed. Yeah, sad music is usually slower paced and calming, but it’s sad. Instrumental music is a great alternative, and there’s tons of it out there.
  • Jack off. Why is it so taboo? It’s been scientifically proven to be great for you, and it??? feels good.
  • Drink some water. Seriously. Drink some water. If you don’t like the taste of water, add some lemon or other fruit! Gotta hydrate, it’s that simple. If you’re really feelin’ it, have some herbal tea!
  • Take a short walk. If that’s not something you can do, for whatever reason, then just sit outside for a few minutes- just a few will do it. Or, open your window. Just get some fresh air, is what I’m getting at.
  • Talk to someone you love, face to face or not. Call or text them good morning, good night, tell them you love them! Ask if they’ve eaten! It’ll remind them that they’re loved and remind you, too.

Yamori’s “What’s 1000-7″ thing has always rubbed me very wrong in a very weird, unexplainable way that I couldn’t place until today when I was reminded that “count backward from 100 by 7s” or “What’s 100-7, what’s that minus 7″ are super common questions on cognitive intake evaluations in psychiatric/medical institutional settings.

To people who have been fortunate enough in their life not to have experienced this first hand, when you are taken to a new medical/psychiatric setting that has a reason to suspect you/any of their usual patient base might not be lucid or might have dementia or some cognitive issues, the intake person will ask a series of super robotic questions that they assume every “normal” person should be able to answer with ease.

Here’s the post that reminded me. [x] Note that Yamori’s torture technique is literally number 5 on that list.

They will generally be taking notes on any hesitations and mistakes and have a tendency to ascribe these to insanity/deficits rather than nerves or you being terrible at arithmetics. 

So, in case you needed another way to connect Tokage/the CCG/Cochlea to systemic institutional violence.

I’m going to nope the fuck away from reality for a little now. b y e.

anonymous asked:

(S. Coups) 1/? With his words agreeing with her help, she was quickly to move back infront of the car, opening the door and taking out the medic kit under the drivers seat. Her mind was a mess, she knew what she had to do, it was a part of the basic training to take a bullet out and close a wound. "I know what i'm doing." Sky said to him, sitting next to his leg to treat the wound. Opening the medic kit to come face to face with a bunch of things, what called her attention was... ♪

(S. Coups) 2/? a needle with a paper glued to it. ‘Anesthesia’ it was written on it. Her hands grabbed it quickly then moved up to him, standing his arm out and checking for his pulse “I know it hurts, but i need you to relax your muscles! Or else the needle will break.” Sky said, the needle was thin and fragile, and his strong muscles could break it if she just careless putted it on his arm. “Think about the good things, you and your pack are out of the lab, they’re not injured.” She tried ♪ (S. Coups) ¾ to make him relax even if it was just a small bit. She was not trained to calm people down, but that was the only thing that came to her mind as she thought of something to calm him down. “After this, i’ll take you guys to a safe place. I need you to trust me, or else you’ll be caught again by them.” She wasn’t sure of what to do, but her hand reached out to play with his hair, trying to take his mind off the pain. Her fingers runned trough his locks, gently to not surprise him -♪ (S. Coups) 4/4 much. There was something about her that they didn’t quite knew yet, but she was hoping that they could trust her for a while. Her eyes wandered for a split second to his members, a bit afraid of them hurting her while she had her back turned to the pack. After all, she did hurt them. “It’s ok, you can relax.” She said lowly, not wanting to disturb him. -♪

Her words of comfort only irked the leader, dark eyes leaving where he was watching blood gush between the slits of his fingers to her face, jaw setting as she continued on, “Im calm, Im calm!” He barked, his body jerking with the words causing his head to tip back at the string of pain that radiated up his calf. His breath heaved with every short breath he forced out, lifting his head once more to look at the girl kneeling beside him, “Im calm,” He stated once more, his demeanor a lot less aggravated though he still spoke through gritted teeth, “Just give me the fucking drugs and —” His words died on his tongue as he unsure hands soothed through his hair, his brows immediately burrowing at the soft touch. Was this meant to be soothing? Before he could response, Wonwoo from outside of the truck now, as they had all cleared out, spoke up, “Hes bleeding out for fucksakes, shove it in his arm and lets go!” Seungcheol barley flinched at the urgency of his voice, though Skylar seemed frazzled by the sudden voice, wide eyes turning away from the drained leader to look back at the pack of wolves just behind her before she was turning back, her words soothing though he could tell by just looking that she was just as overwhelmed in the situation as anyone else. “Hey,” he lowered his voice in hopes that his words would be kept to their ears only, though the emptiness of the vans back caused his words to echo, the packs ears perking to listen. He lifted his uninjured leg with only minor discomfort so he could nudge his knee against her outer thigh, “Just do it,” He started, brows raising at the girl, his chocolate dark eyes looking between her two before he was nodding once, “I trust you.”

Originally posted by tsukicheol

i honestly can’t believe this is happening. that anon called intersex people UNNATURAL and MUTATIONS, yet i’m the one who responded badly??? i only pulled out one curse word, and i’m sorry that i’m senstive about REAL PEOPLE being called unnatural mutations. not to mention i gave them links!! to stuff that does provide actual facts!!!

also if you think my rebuttal was somehow lessened by my “appeal to emotion” /that’s/ a shit move /your/ part, because this is real people we are talking about. real people who face discrimination and medical abuse and all other manner of terrible things, who were just called unnatural mutations. and i think that deserves being emotionally upset about, and the fact that you seem to think it doesn’t tells me really all i need to know about you

but even though i refrained from being as snappish as i felt, and even though i provided them links to actual facts (although i notice you don’t seem to care that /anon/ didn’t provide me with any actual facts), you’re telling me i reacted “terribly” to someone who called a group of marginalized people unnatural mutations????

i suggest you don’t follow this blog anymore. i’m tired. i have work tomorrow. i don’t have the emotional energy to waste on people who don’t consider discrimination something to be upset about. i’m not debating this anymore

~Mod Q

Finding, at the end of the day at the dissecting table, that there was more he wished to examine, he put a lung under his hat and walked out past the guard at the door, all going well as he proceeded through the streets until he felt blood trickling down his face.
—  Henry Bowditch, medical student c.1834, doing terrible things with human organs. From The Greater Journey: Americans in Paris by David McCullough, which any les mis fan who wants to get an american perspective on what life in Paris was like in the early ‘30s should definitely read ASAP. The section about the med students is wild.
Step Into the Relm
The Roots
Step Into the Relm

“I’m from the valley of the heavyheads, watch the ghetto pre-medical
Undergrads and steady red faces of stone” - Black Thought