〝 𝓪𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭 , 𝓷𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚 .
@psycomystes
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ➺ ⠀⠀⠀𝓬͟𝐚͟𝐠͟𝐞͟𝐝⠀⠀✧⠀⠀𝓫𝐢𝐫𝐝.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐓 .
Joined October 2025
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𒄬 𝓱͟𝐨͟𝐧͟𝐨͟𝐫͟𝐢͟𝐬 ⠀⠀✦⠀⠀ 𝓬𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐚. ⠀ ⠀
i can always reassemble to fit perfectly for you, or anybody that decides that i'm of use.
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◌ take a moment of 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 ⋆˙⟡
don't you trust me you hold my chin you make me watch love when i need you
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⤿ 𝔀𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠⠀✧⠀𝓼𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐦. ⠀ ⠀
old habits die screaming.
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i lay still for a while, picking up the scattered garments of my mind and trying to assemble some kind of reasonable outfit from them.
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https://t.co/CjnqQ1SLYU I want heart-wrenching storylines. like those gut-twisting, angst-filled stories. please.
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well—. um. her eighteen year-old patient chewed through his veins at four in the morning and was found by pure miracle before bleeding to death so her day started— um… well… bloody brilliantly.
preferably the start. domino effect, right?
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from which end should she starts explaining the one-thousand ways it sucked?
big day today then?
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oh, that sounds like a plan natalia would like to join into.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀she needs a smoke break more than anything right about now . ⠀ ⠀
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oh… and he can make it a double!
coming right up. * 🥂
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it is not mandatory... right?
⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀good thing it is not mandatory , then . ⠀
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— their agitation, their focus, their speech… it tells me far more than a loopy body ever will. ” she held samira’s gaze, not unkindly. “ so for the future, ” natalia said, voice easing into something almost—almost—gentle, “ I would really appreciate it if you kept that in —
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— but edged with something steel-sharp beneath. “ as inhumane as it sounds, I need you to keep them restrained. ” her fingers lifted slightly, as if molding the air into the shape of her point. “ their manic states aren’t just noise—they’re information. vital information. —
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— actively fantasize about strangling with an ekg lead. samira was bright. capable. and, shockingly, someone natalia almost liked. that alone was reason enough to breathe. “ unless the patient is ripping out his own veins or clawing at his neck, ” she continued, tone level —
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— mind, she counted backwards from five. do not be mean. do not be mean. do not be— “ samira, ” she began, voice soft but taut, as if she were holding it together by the thinnest, trembling thread. she reminded herself—sternly—that this was one of the few residents she didn’t —
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natalia paused, the tension settling into her jaw like a lock clicking into place. her lips pressed into a thin, unforgiving line as she tilted her head ever so slightly, the movement precise, almost mechanical—like a clockwork doll trying not to snap its delicate gears. in her —
there's an invisible curl of her toes in her hokas but she's firmly planted, unshakeable as she meets the attending's gaze. the oak warm shade of her eyes does not buck at the question, though a dimple forms at the corner of her generous mouth as she quirks her lips⸺
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no. she will, very kindly, decline. she doesn't need someone psychoanalyzing her.
⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀there’s a first for everything , so they say . and what better way to assess one’s own field of expertise ? ⠀
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— “ the patient in bh-1, ” she said, voice lowered into something steadier, controlled. “ he needs to be transferred to psych on an involuntary hold— ” a slight tilt of her head, a gesture both clinical and elegant. “ —once you fix him up. ”
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— jack had spoken highly of samira. and jack rarely wasted praise on anyone. if he liked her, there had to be a reason, a good one—he had a gift for spotting competence, for reading people with unnervingly precise accuracy. her eyes opened again, calmer but no less sharp. —
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