#tw hospital | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

st7arlight · 3 months

Text

the family group chat gets a text from Damian at 5am while Bruce and Dick are both out of town. this is what happens when you leave a bunch of teenagers in charge of Gotham

4K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 29 days

Note

Hiiii!I hope your doing great I saw your requests just opened and I was wondering if you would mind doing a poly emt marauders with a reader that’s in hospital and they don’t know until they’re like bringing in someone in or something and their like why didn’t you tell us and she’s like oh cause I didn’t want you to worry.Something like that if not it’s fine have a good day!!!🌊

Thanks for requesting gorgeous! Not super sure if this is accurate since I don’t think paramedics usually spend much time inside the hospital but oh well haha. Hope you have a good day too! <3

cw: hospital/emergency room, mention of broken bone

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 827 words

You’re just on your way out of A&E, feeling sore and shattered and more than a little sorry for yourself, when someone says your name. With an odd mix of relief and trepidation mingling in your chest, you turn.

Sirius makes it to your first. He takes your face in his hands, eyes scanning it over thoroughly before starting to make their way down your body. “Baby, what’s happened?”

“Hey,” you say, “what are you doing here?”

“Um, no.” James gives you a funny-looking smile, amusement tangled up with worry. “It’s fairly normal for us to be here, what are you doing here?”

“I, um—”

“Idiots.” Remus bypasses them both, taking your injured hand gently and holding it up where your other boyfriends can see it. “What happened here, lovely?”

“I broke my finger,” you admit.

Sirius looks devastated, though with the splint binding your two fingers together you thought it was fairly obvious. “How?”

“Shut it in my car door.”

James winces and Remus tsks compassionately, turning your hand so he can see the injured digit from another angle.

“How long have you been here?” he asks.

You shrug, not quite looking at any of them. “I had to wait a while. A few hours.”

Remus’ look lets you know your sheepishness isn’t without good reason. “Did you drive yourself like this?”

You nod meekly.

“Angel!” James wraps his arms around you, tucking your head underneath his chin, and you go happily. You’ll take his mollycoddling over Remus’ reproachful stare any day. “Why didn’t you call us? I can’t believe you had to sit here all by yourself.”

“I knew you were busy at work, and I didn’t want to worry you.” Now Sirius is glaring at you, too. You snuggle further into James’ embrace. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“Did they have to set it?” Sirius asks.

Your face heats. “Yeah. It was pretty weird-looking when it first happened.”

James makes a pitiful whining sound. “Poor love.”

“How long did they tell you it’d take to heal?” Remus’ voice sounds somewhat gentler now. He finally relinquishes your injured hand to Sirius, who starts turning it about and inspecting it in the same manner, like the doctor who splinted it for you might not have done a good enough job.

“Six to eight weeks,” you say glumly. It already feels annoyingly constraining not being able to bend either of those fingers; you’re not sure how you’re supposed to deal with it for weeks on end.

The boys exchange a look, and James drops the protective circle of his arms from around you. “I’m going to go find Amelia,” he says, “see if she’s on break.”

You clutch at his shirt with your good hand. “Don’t leave me,” you whisper.

Your boyfriend smiles, dropping a kiss on your head. “Sorry, lovie.”

“I think we ought to feel insulted,” Sirius comments as James walks away. Remus only shrugs.

He reaches for your face now that it’s not hidden under James’ chin, wiping frownily at something on your cheek.

“Are you feeling alright now, dove?” he asks, and you veritably liquefy at the tenderness in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrug one shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but it really wasn’t awful.”

Sirius gives your wrist an admonishing little squeeze. “You have tear marks on your face,” he contradicts you softly.

“Oh.” You run a finger under your eyes, feeling your face heat.

Remus tuts and lets his hand against the side of your neck, thumb stroking at your jaw. “We’re only on shift for another hour,” he tells you. “James is finding our friend Amelia so you can stay in the break room with her until we can come back and get you, okay?”

You shake your head, and his stare hardens but you say anyway, “I don’t need to be babysat. I can get home on my own.”

“You shouldn’t be driving after having anesthetic.”

You narrow your eyes. “Wouldn’t they have told me if that were the case?”

“We don’t want you driving with a numb hand,” Sirius clarifies. When you turn your attention to him, he gives you a stern look. “You should have called us in the first place. Just let us do what we can for you now, okay?”

You sigh in resignation just as James comes up behind you again. Seeing as no one has taken over hug duty, he wraps both arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder.

“Okay,” you tell Sirius.

“Oh, excellent. All on the same page, are we?” James turns his head to smooch your cheek. “Knew you’d come around, angel. Amelia’s ready for you, so you can hang in the break room until we get back.”

“Is she going to baby me too?” you joke, letting him steer you towards the hallway.

“Probably not,” Sirius says, “but don’t you worry, sweetness. We’ll make up for that when we get you home.”

815 notes · View notes

sparkle-fiend · 1 year

Text

Another scene inspired by “Nothing but the Dead and Dying” by @loveinhawkins

#steddie #my art #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington/eddie munson #tw hospital #loveinhawkins #when I first read this part of the story I knew I had to draw it

4K notes · View notes

jordanstrophe · 25 days

Text

Whumpee woke with a sobbing shout. They quivered and panted, memories hit them as if they were still on the floor at whumper's feet. They felt arms wrap around them and beeping heard overhead; the sound worsened the pounding already in their head.

"Hey hey hey! It's okay. You got a lot of injuries, you've got to take it slow." Caretaker touched whumpees forehead and put them back against the pillow. They tightly gripped whumpee's hand and the other rested on their chest.

"Wh-where am I? How did I get here?" Whumpee panicked.

"You're in a hospital. I'm here with you, everything's okay. You're going to be fine..." Caretaker sadly smiled. Whumpee stared up at them with wide eyes, breathing like a wounded animal, gripping the back of caretakers hand with every ounce of strength, which was hardly holding them at all.

Despite caretaker's calm demeanor, whumpee could feel caretaker's hand shaking as much as their own.

"You-" Whumpee breathed, trying to raise their hand to them, but they couldn't.

"Yeah, it's me," Caretaker smiled, collecting their collapsed hand in their own. "I'm here, I'm taking good care of you. You can keep resting, okay?"

Whumpee shook their head no, their body still in fight or flight mode, wanting nothing more but to jump up and assess their surroundings. Caretaker could see their legs twitching and slowly inching off the bed as they sighed and scooted on the bed with them, pushing their legs back to the center.

"No hon, it's too early to be doing that." Caretaker soothed, laying whumpee's head on their shoulder.

It was almost as if as soon as whumeee's cheek settled, they relaxed and their heart rate slowly returned to normal beat by beat. Caretaker looked up at their monitor and sighed with relief watching the numbers stabilize.

#whump #whumpee #caretaker #caretaking #whump drabble #whump writing #hospital whump #hurt/comfort #comfort whump #injured whumpee #recovery whump #panicked whumpee #whump scenario #whump angst #stern caretaker #tw hospital

552 notes · View notes

draw-the-squad-like-this · 1 month

Photo

Draw your characters like this

831 notes · View notes

sansxfuckyou · 27 days

Text

karma's the judge

Summary: Clay learns that Viva is pink down to her very core- well, more of a magenta color right under her skin, the deeper into her flesh the more purple it gets.

Warnings: gore, near death, hospitals, agony, i cannot stress enough that this is not romantic, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: me and @ohposhers got talking, I'm legally not allowed to say anything else about the convo aside from the fact it inspired this fic. title from FØØL, specifically the INHUMAN remix. hope ya'll enjoy and if ya do consider dropping a like or reblog, or checkin' the Ao3 port.

It's only a mildly horrific sight for Clay to see.

He's lying actually.

The sound of the predator running off into the underbrush is still heavy in the air with cracking branches and rustling leaves. It echoes in his ears; that and the sound of Viva's laboured breathing. Her breath stutters as she wheezes, paw hovering over the bright blue shards in her chest and stomach. She's shredded in every sense including literal.

"C-Clay," Viva barely manages to get out, fat tears rolling down her face as agony surges through her. Neon magenta oozes out of rended flesh and seeps into fabric and slides down from her nose. Ears downturned and claws detracted, she's still in fight mode even though she should've ran with the rest of them.

Words are failing to form for Clay as he takes hasty, yet tentative, steps closer to his companion. Then she coughs, she sounds like death incarnate. Wet and shaky; phlegmy blood spills past her teeth and the gouges in her torso bubble up with her blood, the glass sinks deeper into her flesh. She's curling in on herself as she shudders and shakes and loose flesh trails on the dirt in stringy tendons. She grips for the shards to pull them out but even with adrenaline she's still fading fast. Her eyes flutter shut as the sharp edges slice her hands open to match the rest of her torn up body.

Viva falls limp and Clay is just frozen as he stares at their leader. Her chest rises and falls impossibly slow, she should be dead but she isn't and that gives just enough kick to get Clay to move and save her. Try to at least.

Clay drops down beside her and runs a paw across her wounds, checking the depth and the intensity aside from looking so bad it makes him feel nauseated. She shudders in her passed out state, tensing and flexing her claws against the unknown. The blood on his paws contrasts his own fur so much it makes him gag, the slimy texture of coalescing and cooling Pop Troll blood; it's lukewarm and drips but it's thick with bits of flesh. He wants to hurl as he shuffles Viva around a bit, she curls and shifts and hisses in her restless and forced state of sleep as he tries to help her.

Her cape is slowly wrapped around her body and her blood clings to the tufts of fur on the bottom and collar of the cape. The capes exterior doesn't hold in the blood, at all. Instead the magenta substance just slides off it, seeping through the fabric interior and slowly dripping down pieces of faux grass. Her breath heaves and her body is near entirely limp as it's restricted, Clay has to keep her head from hanging awkwardly and further straining her body as he carries her.

-/-/-/-

Viva jolts awake, body tingling with anesthetic that hasn't fully worn off. And as fast as she's shocked herself upright she's buckling in half due to an agonizing pain shooting up from her abdomen to her sternum. She clutches desperately only to find a similar pain resting heavy in her arm. Only then does she let her vision register as a train of thought in her head instead of bouncing from reflex to reflex.

White bandages wrap her arm and she isn't wearing a shirt, her entire torso is wound up in gauze that's a blend of magenta and almost purple with the darkness. She uses her other paw to touch it, and it's almost damp, that makes her stomach turn. She presses a bit more, higher up, and then she hits stitches left uncovered almost at her clavicles.

She glances down further and finds her leg covered in a thick layer of gauze, she can barely move her toes with how tight it is. And the magenta. She feels ill as the scent of drying and gelatinizing blood really sets in as hers instead of some other Troll in the medical ward.

Viva tries to move again, get off the bed and walk purely to spite the agony ripping through every wound on her (some unstitched but she can't tell with how much gauze she's wearing). Her paws rest shakily on the cot and so little effort leaves her winded, struggling to breath instead of cry out in pain. She's the leader. She has to be strong.

The second her toes hit the floor she swears she can hear something snap and she screams. Every torn tendon and string of muscle in her leg tries to fire all at once, preemptively activating to hold her weight, and the rush of blood darkens her gauze. It hurts enough to push her to tears as she falls back on the bed and clutches her leg. The agony in her arms and torso doesn't do much to deter her from holding the wound even as the sheets below her start to turn pink.

"Viva!"

Clay, it's Clay whose coming and closing the door behind him and rushing over. She bites back sniffles and pathetic little sounds as she lets go of her leg and relaxes just a bit. Her body lays prone on the cot, arms at her side and legs loose as Clay comes to her side.

"You were supposed to be out cold for fifteen more minutes," Clay said quietly. Then he laughs a little bit, awkward and forced, "I should've known you'd fight through the anesthetic though."

Viva laughs too even though there's nothing funny, "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Horror rests heavy on Clay's voice as he speaks.

Viva rephrases, "How am I still alive?"

"Look, all I can't find any logical reason as to why considering how wrecked you were. But let's just take it and run." Clay's eyes linger on the darkness of Viva's terribly done excuse of a cast. He should've added more layers of gauze, or made actual casting materials.

"Did anyone else get hurt?" Viva asked, trying to sit up but pushed back down by Clay. She reluctantly stays still.

"No one else got hurt, the tribes really, really worried though," Clay said quietly, "But I have everything under control, just stay in bed till you're healed up."

Viva's blood goes cold at the notions of being bedridden for music knows how long. Her eyes widen a little bit and she stares at Clay, "What are you planning, Clay?"

Clay laughs nervously, "Nothing much, ya know, just taking reign until you're better."

"What."

"For your own health! It'll be fine!"

Viva gives a long sigh as she closes her eyes, "Don't mess it up, Clay."

"I won't! Besides, I've been doing the legal stuff, it'll be fine."

"Have fun socializing and being the funboy again."

Clay swallows hard. Right. Funboy. He'll have to be the funboy again. It makes hims stomach knot but he nods along because he knows. Being the funboy, he's pretty sure the notions alone make his mind flood with dysphoria.

But for Viva's sake?

He'll manage.

#trolls #trolls fanfiction #clay trolls #viva trolls #trolls viva #trolls clay #trolls fanfic #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw gore #tw injury #tw hospital

241 notes · View notes

paxdracona · 5 months

Text

"Welcome back. It went really well, you did great. I love you."

Quick scribble of the 'in sickness' part of their journey (which only ends after both of them enjoying their retired life together for YEARS)

#icemav #maverick x iceman #mav x ice #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #my art #top gun fanart #tw hospital

352 notes · View notes

the-magpie-archives · 2 years

Text

You see, Martin says 'I grieved for you' to Jon, but this doesn't do justice for just what he would have gone through.

As most people know, having a loved one in hospital is horrible, but Jon's case is an entirely different thing. Assuming Jon was initially taken to a hospital in Great Yarmouth, it would've taken Martin a while to get there, even if he left right away. He might have missed Jon's emergency treatment, but he certainly didn't miss the worst of it.

Many people assume that CPR is a quick, simple, lifesaving procedure, it is not. Jon was found not breathing, and without a pulse, so he would have had at least 20 minutes straight of CPR, and that messes up a body. On a person as weak as Jon it would badly break ribs, and cause a lot of bruising. Even if Martin didn't have to watch Jon's chest be crushed to no avail, that type of damage is often visible.

I don't know if you've ever seen a dead body, but it's different to an unconscious one in every way. Jon of course, was not dead, but he would absolutely look it. As I'm sure you know, blood being pumped is what keeps the body warm, and breathing accounts for a large part of what we perceive as living, so the absence of both of these, especially in a loved one, is jarring, and likely to send anyone into shock

In lots of TV shows you see doctors calling deaths, but in reality it's actually quite a difficult thing to diagnose. It's not a quick check of the pulse and you're done, there's a lot of tests; there are many conditions that can look like death. In Jon's case his mind and nerves were still active, meaning it would have been picked up on fairly quickly, but Jon would have been assumed dead until these tests were completed.

The thing with a case like this, is there's nothing the doctors can feasibly do; as Elias says, it's an unknown quantity. The most likely course of action would be to make him as comfortable as possible, and redo the death checks every so often. There would be no hope for his recovery, but legally the hospital would have to do this, and would be able to offer very little comfort.

Although of course you want your loved one to survive, many family members of coma patients confess to hoping that they'd just die. The limbo of waiting is impossible to process, and having them there but having no way to communicate with them can be excruciating. There's no way to properly grieve for someone if you always have it in the back of your mind that they could wake up.

Giving up on someone like that is terribly and awfully painful. You can tell them you're sorry all you want, but you'll always be thinking about how they'd have wanted you to stay. Having to create both sides of an interaction like that when truly you're in control of neither is simply impossible to recover from.

Every action Martin took after Jon's death was justified, logical, even. To succumb to the lonely after leaving the man you love, sentencing him to die alone?

It feels right.

3K notes · View notes

shares-a-vest · 2 months

Text

@steddielovemonth Day 25: Love is… Asking, “Do you want a blanket?” (Prompt by @thefreakandthehair)

wc: 952 | Rated: T | cw: Hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries and general hospital stuff, physical pain, one mention of blood

Tags: Post-s4, Fix-It, Eddie Munson Lives, Hospital

'Hospital Blankets'

“Steve? Hey, Steve?”

Steve is pulled out of a restless slumber by Eddie’s stage whispering. A twinge in his back fully rouses him as he remembers exactly where he is – in Hawkins General, bent up like a pretzel on what is quite possibly the world’s hardest chair, wearing nothing but a hospital gown and his underwear. He blinks harshly, his vision blurry as he looks in the direction of the chattering, dark-headed form lying in the bed in front of him.

“Huh?” he grunts, his voice thick with sleep as he becomes very much aware of the overall pain radiating over his whole body.

His throat burns too, even from a single word. He instinctively reaches a hand up to the reddened scar there – already a formed habit – only to scratch himself with his patient wristband.

“Do you want a blanket?” Eddie continues, his weakened voice indicating he is barely conscious, let alone aware of Steve’s discomfort.

Steve arches his back this time but it causes his chewed-up sides to ache, the bandages stiffening and contorting. Their tacky borders pinching at the already tight skin and scar tissue.

He gives up and slumps back in the chair, clutching the armrests for dear life as a twang shoots directly up his spine to his head. He runs a hand through his hair, impossible to keep from flopping in his face considering all he can do is give himself a goddamn sponge bath these days.

He should have just listened to Robin (and more than a few disgruntled nurses) when they begged him to stay in his own room.

But his room feels empty. Big and dark, just like his family home but a little more white and clinical smelling. It gives him nightmares. If he manages to settle enough to sleep that is…

It’s kinda hard when your friends are scattered throughout the bowels of the local hospital, all in varying states of distress meanwhile, outside the world has half caved in.

“Steeeve,” Eddie whines this time as he repeats, “Do you want a blanket?”

He half dry-sobs his query and Steve has no choice but to shimmy upright – thankfully, the slippery cover of his stupid seat helps him up this time.

Blanket… he finally considers and finds himself stifling a shiver.

He didn’t think to bring a blanket with him as he was much too focused on getting out of bed and down the hall to Eddie’s room. A room that is much colder than his own, which the occupant clearly knows.

Eddie’s fist is balled up in his blankets, offering them up as he raises his shaky arm.

“No,” Steve says softly, shaking his head and waving him away.

Eddie needs it more.

With a herculean effort, Steve moves the chair a few inches closer to the bed, hoping it isn’t scraping the floor or tangling up any of the wires and tubes hooked up to beeping machines – god knows where they each begin and end. His sides all but seize up as he sits back down and forces himself to correct his posture.

“But you’re cold,” Eddie frowns, his voice impossibly small.

“I’m fine,” Steve protests.

Eddie’s weak hand punches at his banket in a haphazard swish motion.

“Get into bed with me…” he mumbles, closing his eyes, “Rest with me, sweetheart.”

His head lolls to the side and Steve huffs out a laugh. Eddie is certainly on one hell of a cocktail of meds, mixed with the overall exhaustion that must come from almost dying. Steve can barely keep his own eyes open and he wasn’t anywhere near as close to it.

His heart thuds in his chest as thoughts of Eddie’s almost lifeless body rush back to his sleepy brain.

Dustin’s sobs… Robin scrambling to tear up clothes and sheets from the Upside Down version of the Munson’s trailer to make bandages… Nancy forcing everyone to focus as she devised a game plan, stopping every few moments to shoot down undead bats…

Steve screws his eyes shut and stands, bracing his arms on the sides of the chair before swiftly moving them to the bed for purchase.

At least Eddie’s right side is a little less banged up – but only just enough, Steve thinks as he hikes back the three warm layers of blankets enough to sit himself down on the bed. He swings his legs up next, clenching his jaw as every muscle in his body aches and pains from what transpired however many days ago.

The bed is a tight fit, but Steve doesn’t mind. The mattress is perhaps a fraction more comfortable than the chair, but he soon warms as he settles down and rights the blankets, smoothing them out for good measure and double-checking he hasn’t disturbed Eddie too much.

His body warms almost instantly as he rests his head beside Eddie’s on his pillow, positioned close enough that he can feel frizzed dark curls tickling his cheek. Eddie’s wispier than he expected and smells of the generic hospital soap – but at least the dried and caked-up blood is gone.

“That’s good…” Eddie coos, turning his head to face Steve, those tickling tendrils now replaced with a soft woosh of his breathing.

He can see the scar on Eddie’s cheek now. The bandage patch has been removed, exposing raw stitches today. Steve sighs, relieved by the smallest of steps forward.

Eddie can’t do much more than reach his hand out. And Steve takes it, interlacing their fingers despite the heart monitor clipped onto Eddie’s right index finger.

“Blanket’s... warm…” he mutters, nodding as he feels slumber tugging at him once again.

Eddie hums in agreeance and lightly squeezes his hand.

#i'm baaaaack (to posting - i've been sprinting my heart out)#big thanks to sandy for checking in and sending the positive vibes that got me back to writing 💖💖💖#steddielovemonth #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #healing steddie #(now lets see if i can remember my new tagging system)#tw hospital #tw medical #tw blood

205 notes · View notes

generation-fucked-nostalgia · 5 months

Text

The Waiting room...

🏥|||🏥.🏥|||🏥|||🏥.🏥|||🏥

269 notes · View notes

whumpy-bi · 11 months

Text

Whumpee in an enemy hospital. Forced into medical treatment after being captured.

Always restrained to their bed, always under supervision by someone—a nurse, a guard, a doctor. All part of the enemy forces, all regarding them with a detached coldness.

They don’t know where they’ll be taken after they’re healed, they’re afraid to ask. Maybe, if you’re into it, Whumpee fights like hell for the first few days because they were still captured and finally stop after days of drug induced sleep. Hoping for rescue, because there’s absolutely no chance at escape with their current condition.

They try to plead with doctors, asking for any small mercy—to let them go, to take the restraints off, anything!—but to no avail.

Just…captured in an enemy hospital.

#whump #whumpee #writing #whump writing #whumper #whump thoughts #captured #kidnapping #hospital #medical whump #tw hospital #tw restraints

575 notes · View notes

schizopositivity · 3 months

Text

Do you have a severe mental illness that can/has caused a mental health emergency? Are you currently stable? You should make a basic safety plan! [Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional, this advice is taken from my own experiences and what I learned in inpatient psychiatric facilities. This post caters more to those who experience severe psychotic episodes as that is my experience.]

1. Find a safe person. Someone you often spend time with that you can trust with the details of your mental illness and feel safe around. Ask them if they are comfortable being the person to look out for you if you have a mental health emergency. Preferably someone you live with. If no one you live with fits this role, find someone you contact regularly.

2. Explain to the safe person what a mental health emergency looks like for you. Think of the way you presented in the past during mental health emergencies and try to describe it. You may have to describe it based on what others have told you if you had memory loss during episodes in the past.

3. Let them know how they can check with you to see if you are in a mental crisis. You might need them to ask you some questions to gage your mental state (examplse: Do you know where you are right now? Are you able to talk?). Tell them what questions to ask to find out if you are in a crisis.

4. Explain to them what you would want to happen in a mental health emergency. If they are able to see that you are indeed in a mental health emergency, what steps would you want them to take? If you will need to go to the hospital, but don't want to interact with police, let them know to tell that to emergency services. If there's a nearby inpatient facility you would want to go to, tell them which one and give them their contact info. If episodes typically pass on their own for you, let the safe person know how to keep you comfortable and safe until it passes.

5. Have an easily accessible contact paper or note on your phone with some basic info in case you can't speak to professional help while you are in a crisis. Add your name, birth date, your diagnoses, and exactly what medications you take and the dosages. You can add specific warnings or triggers about yourself (examples: Doesn't like being touched by medical professionals. Can react violently to loud noises). You can add contact info of people you'd want to let know about your situation. You can add your insurance information if you have it.

6. If you would have to go to a hospital/inpatient facility, let the safe person know if there's anything else you'd want them to handle once you get there. (Examples: Pack a bag of clothes for the inpatient stay. Feed my pets while I'm gone or ask someone else to. Contact my work place for me and let them know I won't be able to come in.)

Yes this is a long list, but I feel it's important to prepare and get your bases covered while you have the capacity to do so. Often when someone is in crisis they don't know how to ask for help, or what to do once they get help. Thinking of everything ahead of time saves you the extra worry later, or the extra worry of guessing by the people around you.

And if you are thinking "this is too much work to make someone else do!" Consider how much harder it would be if they found you in crisis and had no idea what to do and you wouldn't be able to tell them. If you have a severe mental illness that can/has caused you to be in a state of mental health emergency, you deserve to be cared for by others during the crisis.

#mental illness #mental health emergency #mental crisis #saftey plan #schizophrenia #neurodivergent #schizophrenic #psychosis #nd #actuallyschizophrenic #mental health awareness #pseriouslypsychotic #mentally ill #psychotic episode #schizoaffective disorder #tw hospital #tw psychward #long post

198 notes · View notes

ryartchus · 10 months

Text

❤️‍🩹.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #dazai osamu #tw hospital

482 notes · View notes

jordanstrophe · 8 months

Text

Whumpee sat mindlessly in the hospital bed. They were restless and wanted to go home, but weren't allowed to leave until they told more about what happened under whumper's hand.

They seemed calm; not too many injuries, but enough to be concerned and no clue what caused them. No one had seen anything like it...

"Would it be okay if you told me? Just me. No one else in the room." Caretaker coaxed. Whumpee was silent for a while; you could see their eyes darting, their shoulders raised insecurely, their legs twitching closer to their body.

Then finally, a soft subtle nod.

#whump #whumpee #caretaker #caretaking #hospital whump #whump prompt #recovering whumpee #caretaking prompt #injured whumpee #hurt/comfort #comfort whump #comfort prompt #tw hospital #whump tropes #whump scenario #recovery whump

771 notes · View notes

luminalunii97 · 1 year

Text

There have been reports after reports of gas poisoning at girls schools in mostly Qom, a religious city that is important to the regime. The weird thing is that the poisoning is only happening in girls schools (students are separated by gender at school). Many believe it might be intentional and the regime is trying to keep girls from coming to school by making it unsafe for them.

#iran #iran protests #human rights #politics #feminism #middle east #mahsa amini #jina amini #woman life freedom #tw hospital #iran revolution #violence against children #violence against women

860 notes · View notes

dispotatorulzz · 2 months

Text

Viv and Vex ponies !!! So happy with how these guys came out honestly <333

Design referenced from @the-good-luck-anomaly (specifically this)which was inspired by this)) fun little inspo train :3!! Me talking bout it and some flats and such under cut

Queen and Laz soon ^^ !!

RAGHHHH OK.... I loved doing these guys so much !!!!!

Basic flats ⬇️⬇️

I imagined them with opposite faced curled collars (imagine my dismay when I checked and this was just their hair and not also cool collars) so a little bit of fun jacket business.

their bodies are bloodstained but less so in the areas under the coat and gloves . the gloves protected the area they are worn on more than the coats because the gloves are a bit tighter, the coats don't even really close lmao

ALSO AUGHHHH the designs I referenced for these guys are SO GOOD!!!!!! the flat teeth specifically I love so much they're just so good and the perfect amount of spooky unexpected (for a vamp) for them 💛💛💛

#jrwi the suckening #the suckening #jrwi vex #jrwi viv #tw blood #tw hospital #only kinda imagery but yk #oh no she cant hear us.... she has airpods in ....#tumblr ruined my quality but i dont work very clean anyway LMAOOO #was going to share the speed paint to but. post is already long enough (curse of the yapper) /lh #MyArt

93 notes · View notes