#cuz i can’t find anything with all of my symptoms

[sneepity-snoop-snorpity-sneep]

I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ON HOW AMERICAN SOCIETY HANDLES MENTAL DISABILITY AND I HAVE DECIDED TO talk about it to myself on my blog at moderate volume

THOUGHT NUMBER 1!!

OK so i’m pretty sure anyone who’s thought about it knows that the medical community (and other industries connected to it, like the insurance dudes), don’t consider brain-malfunction conditions to be on the same tier as other forms of healthcare, and give less priority to funding those departments, which means even if you HAVE got a bunch of medical professionals in those disciplines who DO take that ish seriously, they’ve got immediate barriers between them and the folks needing their services. which sucks.

that one i don’t have an immediate fix for, cuz i don’t think there IS an immediate fix, especially with how many more people are needing mental health treatments/evaluations these days. but you know what COULD have a nice big drastic impact on how people as a whole see mental health AND ALSO how large of a burden untreated mental health problems put on american society??

MAKE. ANNUAL. MENTAL HEALTH. EVALUATIONS. A. NORMAL. THING!!

like what parents are supposed to do with their kids and dr appointments is at least once a year, hop in the car or on the bus, and take their kid to get a physical! thats a totally normal thing people do, the idea being “even if there wasn’t anything obviously wrong before the appointment, its just a good way to keep an eye on our children’s health and catch problems sooner if a serious one does turn up!

well folks, that idea of monitoring one’s health preventing a lot of problems from becoming problems in the first place would also work with any and all forms of neurodivergency!! like how many people who struggle with a brain illness struggle mostly due to the fact that they weren’t prepared for it!? i’m totally projecting here btw, cuz guess what happened to me even though i WAS tested as a kid!! this exact issue right here!

obviously, a lot of mental illnesses specifically can’t be counted on to show up when you're still in childhood, where once a problem is revealed its the adults around you who are supposed to take care of you and make sure you’re getting what you need. BUT!!! but but but but BUT

if you DID come down with a condition as an adult, but you’d already been somewhat familiarized with what symptoms WERE IN FACT symptoms, and common treatments/solutions for said symptoms, due to having regular psychiatric checkups with a dr throughout childhood?

well, odds seems pretty good that you’d be much better prepared for that condition if/when it did come along, and it would probably take less time to notice it too!

say nothing of the fact that this would do a lot to de-stigmatize mental health, cuz if u arrange ur healthcare system so it is No Longer Assuming That Neurotypicality Is The Norm, then EVERYONE’S got that knowledge too, and even for the people who haven’t got a form of neurodivergence and never will -  them having a similar stockpile of background knowledge and awareness of mental health as those who do have a condition will do a ton to remove the obstacles in the way of effective society-wide treatment of brain illnesses (both on the stigma side of things, and on the practical symptom-treating side)

THOUGHT NUMBER 2!!

so this party-popper of thought was specifically inspired by a post i saw but can’t find (NVM I FOUND IT :D) that listed neurotypical traits in a similar manner as autistic traits tend to be talked about - i chuckled at it and then went like hey, what if tho, what if that could actually have some practical applications?

specifically, what if that exact premise was used as a the foundation of a unit in health classes in public schools?

like i know that even if you get a health curriculum and teacher that does a fairly good job of talking about what they’re required/allowed to talk about, there just isn’t enough time given to go into detail about a lot of important shit, and in the classes i got at least, neurodivergency vs. neurotypical-ness was one of the things not discussed (most of the ones i got focused on healthy relationships, which they did a good-but-not-great job on)

but if you had even just a couple lectures where the teachers first explain what each one is, give a few examples of neurodivergent conditions, and then follow it up with a talk outlining the neurotypical traits and explaining why/how they’re neurotypical traits?? it could definitely have a similar effect as the theoretical benefits to Thought #1

it would potentially re-frame the lack-of-condition that is being neurotypical - like i feel like the way people see it as ‘normal’ and while i get how that’s the impression people end up with, i think that’s a bad way to try and categorize the different ways the human brain functions - cuz what does normal even mean??? it doesn’t really describe anything except that ‘this person doesn’t seem to have anything going on with their behavior, they must be normal’ which. uh. hi there high-functioning folks, how y’all doing on this fine fall afternoon?

like if i’d been made aware that a lot of the stuff i did that i knew was what made me ‘weird’ were actually full-on SYMPTOMS that i actually shared with a ton of other people!? lemme tell you, it would’ve made a BIG difference in how much i measured the scope my problems based on ‘i’m weird though, so this is to be expected’

 Even (or maybe especially) though i didn’t actually know anybody personally with the same conditions, because hey! i didn’t know many people personally who also had asthma, but i never developed any hangups around how that affected my physical needs. why would I??! i’d already met a bunch of doctors about it, gotten an inhalor for it, and knew it was a Condition and that i was far from the only kid who had it. there wasn’t any empty space in my knowledge that i was left to fill with my own assumptions, that if i was so perpetually inadequate it must just be a trait i had and there wasn’t any point in trying to logic my way out of that burden

it doesn’t seem like it would be particularly difficult to close that knowledge gap when it comes to how people look at mental illness and neurodivergency, even just by explaining what’s really going into being allistic, neurotypical, or ‘normal’ would go a long way towards dispelling the idea that people have absolute control over their brains and behavior, as well as just being a great way to get folks with undiagnosed going-ons in their grey matter to shake off any assumptions they’ve made about how they should look at themselves for not being normal

ok yeah, having lectures where u explain how a person is neurotypical the same way you’d explain how someone is neurodivergent won’t help people with brain conditions know which one they’ve got or what to do about it - but i feel like the greater gain here is disrupting the idea that being neurotypical or ‘normal’ is something that awards merit or pride.

no one who’s not-neurodivergent got that way because of something they personally achieved or did. it wasn’t a reward they received from the universe for being a Certified Good Boi, they got lucky! they didn’t do anything to personally earn a brain that functions and on the flip side of that, starting out with a brain that functions isn’t actually some form of magical protection from losing that functionality if ur good luck runs out - a lot of forms of neurodivergence aren’t ones you’re born with after all.

and even the ones that ARE, same logic applies!! autism, adhd, and other conditions aren’t metaphorical coal in ur stocking for being naughty, they just are. nobody gets a say in what stats they have at birth!! (honestly the control we have even under our own agency and mobility isn’t that influential on our circumstances a lot of the time)

basically i feel like u want to start regularly introducing the idea that the perception of ‘normal’ is coming out of very measurable things in people’s brains. A perception which really just seems like another lazy way of assuming that those who have a functioning brain won’t ever have to worry about losing that, like it’s an inherent trait to you as a person or something - newflash! it ain’t. your mind, personality, and behavior are not magical airy-fairy things detached from measurable factors, their roots are all held within your brain, and your brain is an organ which can get sick or damaged. Not only that, but since its a very complex organ to boot, it doesn’t take a very big change to cause big differences in functionality!!

like yeah in theory it would be great if you could explain the difficulties people with disabilities face to those with no personal stake in that, and have them have sufficient empathy to consider that as something that matters. And although I’m sure there ARE folks out there capable of that, there’s also a lot of folks out there who will let you down BIG TIME on that front, so i think another tactic to use when trying to combat ableism would be to start requiring curriculums that gives all the folks across the board a nice big sip of

#ableism is stupid in this essay i will proceed to #mental health #neurodivergency #us healthcare #altho im sure there are similar problems even in places that have universal healthcare too #honestly bi-annual mental health evals would be best #but annual ones would still be an improvement! #i guess the overall point of both of my points be that #society could eliminate a lot of its big problems rn #if it started practicing self-awareness and let go of the idea that one is supposed to be born normal #and if once u are u don't need to look into it any further #yeah it would be nice to be able to achieve a certain level of then-constant good health #like if u level up enough u never have to worry about losing the good luck u started with #but thats not realistic - even if ur born totally healthy and normal in brain and body #odds are you'll age into being disabled if u live long enough #so hope for the best but be fucking prepared for the worst methinks #oh yeah and nanny mcphee is here cuz i like her

[youandyour150people]

I was supposed to do this test on Saturday and I couldn’t cuz I had been suppressing flashbacks all week and going to class EVERYDAY, and that’s like incredibly epic of me but so exhausting. Like I usually take a day off, to just crash. I just spent the entire day in my bed bc I’m so exhausted. But going to class everyday helps my grades so much. And now I have a zero for that stupid test and I have to talk to the teacher and ask if he’ll grade the late one and if not I’ll just take a freaking hit I suppose but I hate asking for things and I really don’t want to annoy anyone, but like grades are unfortunately heavily associated with my “primary purpose” like why I split off and I’m taking this way too hard and like I don’t feel like my response is reasonable.

Someone took the 4th assessment instead of the 3rd and failed the 4th, bc we hadn’t gone through class. And the stupid proctorio is so freaking stupid too bc it glitched and kicked me out and now I have a stupid zero for that too. And I don’t want to be a bother to the teacher, but like I’m failing the class at this point and it’s literally a be alter every single time. And I don’t know them, I’ve never met them, and yeah there are accommodations n stuff but it’s still really hard and the reason its so freaking hard to take these test is bc I guess we have trauma around cameras(like this and a couple other things that are adding up to some serious stuff and I’m REALLY not liking where all this is going). Like all the evidence is pointing to things I can’t handle and I know I can’t handle but I’m so curious and my headmates are displaying some symptoms that continue to add up to some disturbing stuff and I’m trying not to dig, I am.

Don’t even get me started on how bad these flashbacks are like I thought, “oh my flashbacks can physically get any worse.” And they somehow pulled it off. Somatic flashbacks are THE worst, I’m freaking stuck there for like 5 hours when I should be sleeping. And if I misjudge if the flashback is done or not and go to sleep? I have a horrible nightmare and am so out of it all of the next day, until I have a flashback and it like runs it course so I can break the horrible loop I’m in. And apparently my experience is so “niche”(it’s not) or like I’m explaining it so incorrectly that I can’t find anything on google and I can’t find any articles on how to help or even if anyone has had the same experiences. It so infuriating and I hate it. And I’m going to therapy but it’s hard and I’m with a new therapist so I need to build trust but I don’t want to share my flashbacks bc they are so gross and I hate everything about them. Like I thought the ones where I almost dislocated my shoulder where bad.

Also I have to be moved out BY THURSDAY. and the move in date for my other place? I can’t move in til sept 9th. So I have to say at my sisters place for like a week and sleep on the couch (and try not to have a flashback in front of anyone bc I couldn’t bear how’d they’d see me) and try not to do my passy outy flashbacks as well bc I don’t want to hit my head or pass out in front of anyone.

#tw vent #vent tw #trauma vent #tw flashbacks #tw negativity #don’t even get my started on when I tried to ask for help earlier in the semester this old white man #WHOS JOB IT IS TO HELP PEOPLE LIKE ME #Talk about how life isn’t fair #like he had the means and the resources and simply Refuses to help #yeah life is unfair but it should at least try to do better and not just say #oh well better luck next time #I hate it here #like I’m not fuming but I’m getting there

[alexa-crowe]

it’s amazing how i’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to eat carefreely.

#like. i used to just eat whatever the fuck i wanted #and now i have to pick and choose #i still eat junk #just in moderation #which sucks bc i’m also trying to gain weight #but everything just collided and now i get full easily and feel nauseas a lot #and can’t eat bbq chicken wings without chugging water out of fear that i’ll throw up #it’s a sign of how much i’m willing to risk that i said fuck it when i have emetophobia #back in the day i would never have even touched a spicy food lol #rambling #chronic illness is so fun #i love that the probable answer is that i have several things at once :) #cuz i can’t find anything with all of my symptoms #i can’t get tests done bc they’re really expensive even w insurance (🇺🇲) #and they also make me feel even more sick than i normally do #borderline medical trauma

[purple-dahlias]

Ok I'm sending this in cuz I love med school au an ungodly amount okay :

medtober prompt exam : Ava's feeling her pulse and putting her stethoscope to Sarah's heart and stuff like that cuz they're preparring for the cardio test or something but Sarah's going crazy like 'frick Ava's so so close to me' and like ava knows Sarah's blushing and just asks why her hearts beating so fast with a grin on her face

Oh my god I'm rambling its ok if u cut stuff out or add stuff lol also I don't know if u do this is med school irl but fgtgvv

Sgvxfg 😚

day twenty six- exam

i am so sorry this took so long to complete, but thank you so much for this request! i hope you like it <3 wc: 1962 warnings: none

Sarah checks the message again as she walks across campus, bundled up under a ridiculous amount of layers with her chin and mouth tucked into her scarf: an extra layer of protection from the biting November chill.

Meet me in the skills lab at 10

Honestly, when Ava had suggested the two study for their upcoming clinical skills exam together, after they’d worked on the physiology practical, Sarah hadn’t actually thought she was being serious. She just thought it was something she had said out of kindness or as a formality, without any real intention to follow through. And so, understandably, when Sarah had received a message from Ava late last night asking if she was ‘still on for tomorrow,’ it had come as a shock. So much of a shock, really, that Sarah recalls it’s a complete wonder she didn’t drop her phone then and there.

Her shock was further drawn out by the text she had found waiting for her that morning, instructing her to meet Ava at ten. It sent a jolt of both fear and excitement coursing through her, because this surely meant Ava must like her at least a little. Because this was something she absolutely didn’t have to do. There were probably over a dozen other people Ava could have gone with to practice and yet she had thought to ask her.

As Sarah agonises over whether Ava had meant ten in the morning or at night (but then really, who books the skills lab at ten pm? Sarah wasn’t even sure it was open then. No, it must be morning, she decides), her thoughts are interrupted by someone (Ava, she realises), calling out to her.

“Hey, Sarah!”

“Hey,” Sarah smiles, turning to find Ava a little way behind her, a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Thought we should at least start off caffeinated,” Ava returns the smile, holding out one of the cups to Sarah. “Americano, white, one sugar,” she recites. “Remembered from last time,” she grins, noticing the bemused look on Sarah’s face.

And of course Ava would remember her coffee order. She was Ava Bekker. She knew everything.

She’ll be able to read your mind if you’re not careful, Sarah thinks to herself.

“Thanks,” Sarah accepts the cup gratefully, warming her fingers around it. “Shall we get going?”

Ava falls into step beside her, nodding. “Let’s go.”

It doesn’t take the two long to make their way to the skills lab, but by the time they do, Sarah’s hands are considerably warmer, and she’s feeling a little more at ease, what with Ava chattering along beside her, complaining about her complete idiot of a roommate, Connor.

“So how do we want to do this?” Ava asks, securing her stethoscope around her neck as Sarah does the same.

“Well we’ve got cardio, respiratory and abdominal examinations to practice, so we could go through each of those normally, and then do them but with symptoms that we have to come to a diagnosis for?” Sarah suggests.

“Sounds like a plan,” Ava smiles warmly. “Mind if I examine first? You be the patient and let me know if I miss anything out?”

“Sure,” Sarah says brightly, though she knows Ava will never forget anything. “Do you want to start from the examination itself, or from the beginning with the introduction part?”

“Can’t hurt to add in the introduction, we want to simulate the real thing, after all.”

“Alright then,” Sarah settles herself on the exam couch and lays back, waiting.

“Hi, my name’s Ava Bekker, I’m a first-year medical student. Can I confirm your name and date of birth please?”

“Sarah Reese, July 16th, 1991.”

“Perfect. Ok, so today I’m going to be examining your heart, and that will involve me having a listen to your heart, feeling your pulses, taking your blood pressure and inspecting your hands, face and feet. Would that be alright with you?”

Sarah nods and gives Ava a smile so as to let her know so far so good.

“Right so before I start, are you in any pain at all?”

“No, all good.”

“Great. I’m going to start by just examining your hands,” Ava informs patient-Sarah. “So, could you put your hands out, palms facing upwards.”

Sarah nods, doing what Ava says and willing her hands not to shake. Because even though she knows this whole thing is being done so they can both practice for their clinical skills exam, spending time with Ava is hardly easy or straight forward, and not least because Sarah may or may not have a silly, ridiculous crush on her. But Sarah reminds herself that no, Ava does not and cannot feel that way about her, as much as it pains her to think. All the same, though, as Ava takes Sarah’s hand in hers, turning over them, inspecting the hands no doubt for splinter haemorrhages or clubbed fingers, a purely clinical action, it doesn’t stop the adrenaline coursing through her, doesn’t stop her feeling something.

“Looking good so far. I’m just going to feel for the pulse in your wrist,” Ava announces, moving her fingers round to find Sarah’s radial pulse.

An eye on the clock, Ava counts the beats, a small frown crossing her face. It should not be that fast. Had she calculated it incorrectly? No, she couldn’t have. But surely… that had to be way too fast for a resting rate, right?

“You alright?” Sarah asks, noticing Ava’s pause.

“Oh, yeah,” Ava nods, fixing her expression. She knows something is definitely up, but she’s not quite sure what.

(She may have a slight idea, though).

Sarah’s thoughts are running a mile a minute, no doubt matching her heart rate, if Ava’s expression was anything to go by. She just really, really hoped Ava won’t figure out the real reason for it. That would take a lot of embarrassing explaining that Sarah absolutely did not want to have to go through.

“Would you mind rolling up your sleeve? I’m going to take your blood pressure,” Ava continues, that professional tone back as she turns to pick up the sphygmomanometer and cuff.

Well, at least she hadn’t asked about the elevated heart rate, Sarah thinks to herself with relief.

“Sarah?” Ava questions once again.

“Hmm? Oh, uh, sure,” Sarah returns belatedly, stumbling over her words when she realises Ava had, in fact, been talking to her. She’s more than a little flustered, and hopes Ava won’t have noticed that, or the way Sarah’s eyes follow Ava’s every move. And it is not because of nerves from the procedure. Not at all.

“Hate having to use the sphyg,” Ava mutters to herself and Sarah lets out a little laugh. “We have machines now for a reason,” she huffs, inflating the cuff around Sarah’s arm, who silently agrees with her.

“A little elevated,” Ava purses her lips, a frown on her face.

“Hey! I’m the patient remember, no making comments or faces that could make me uneasy. And in any case, it’s probably just white coat hypertension.” Sarah shrugs, a more than a little defensive.

“But I’m not wearing a white coat,” quips Ava, a smile playing across her lips.

And no, she wasn’t wearing a lab coat but a high neck dark green sweater that just complimented the blonde waves of her hair so well and…

Sarah realises Ava is staring at her, and Ava is staring back. Had she said any of that out loud? Was Ava a mind reader?

“Continue with your exam, student doctor Bekker,” Sarah manages, a little stiffly, and more than a little embarrassed.

“Alright, alright. Miss Reese I’m going to have a look at your neck and a feel of the pulse there. Could I just ask you to turn your head to the left?”

Sarah nods, following the instructions, knowing Ava will be assessing the jugular venous pressure.

“That all seems fine. I’m going to have a listen to your heart and the valves now,” Ava informs as she puts in the earpieces of her stethoscope, placing it over Sarah’s chest.

It really, really does not help that Ava is so close to Sarah, leaning over her so that Sarah can smell the perfume she’s wearing (floral, lilacs maybe, the same as last time, which admittedly is a little frightening that Sarah can recall that particular fact), can see the gold leaf necklace hanging around her neck, can feel Ava’s hair brushing her chin. Sarah can feel her own heart thumping in her chest, can practically feel the blood pulsing through her body and rushing to her face, to where she just knows her cheeks are reddening. And she knows Ava will pick up on these things too. She also knows that Ava knows it is not at all because she is scared of doctors or clinical examinations or even the upcoming test. There is entirely another reason. One that Sarah is sure Ava knows about, and has known since that day they worked together in the lab for the lung function testing practical. She probably even knew before that. And Sarah doesn’t quite know where that leaves her. Nowhere good, most probably.

She knows it’s futile, but she wills, oh she wills Ava not to pick up on it. But of course she will. Because the whole point of practicing these examinations was to be able to recognise signs like an elevated heart rate and figure out what to do about them. How does Sarah explain to Ava that the way for her to stop this all would be if she just asked her out? But then again, she’s not even sure that would solve the problem. Might make it worse. She might suffer a myocardial infarction instead. Although, if she died from that, she at least wouldn’t be having this problem anymore.

Ava moves her stethoscope around, auscultating for the valves and moving down to the apex beat. Once again, she listens, counting the beats just as she had done with Sarah’s radial pulse, an eye on the clock. This time she listens for exactly a minute, not the thirty seconds and multiplying by two. That had to be fast for someone who was just lying there, right? She gets an unmistakable one hundred and fifteen. So yes, fast. Tachycardic, even.

“Okay, well. That concludes my examination,” Ava smiles, drawing Sarah back out of her rabbit hole of thoughts and back into the room. Amusement plays across Ava’s face as she watches Sarah realise that yes, in fact, Ava had been watching Sarah and that no, Sarah Reese was not as good at concealing her emotions and not showing them on her face as she thought she had been.

“To follow this through further, I could order a complete blood count, perform an EKG and conduct an echo. Any questions, Reese?”

“Hmm? Oh, uh…” Sarah trails off. Well, there was one. But Ava meant questions relating to the work, didn’t she? “No. I think you covered everything well in your examination,” Sarah smiles weakly, hoping her voice doesn’t sound as shaky as she feels.

“That so?” Ava cocks her head to one side. She knows she’s torturing Sarah, trying to tease it out of her, waiting just a little longer, just to see the reaction she’ll get.

“Mhmm.”

“Alright, well I have a question,” Ava announces, surprising Sarah. “If you’re free afterwards, want to come check out this new café that opened up a few blocks over? They have the most amazing looking pastries in their window. And afterwards, we could go down to the ice rink, if you want. I haven’t skated in years.”

“What? Me?” Asks Sarah, eyes widening ever so slightly in shock.

“No, the couch. Of course you, silly.”

“Wow, okay, yeah. That sounds lovely,” Sarah says shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. But the minute the words are out of her mouth, she hates them. Why, why did she have to be so awkward about things like this?

Ava graciously pretends not to notice the very obvious inner turmoil Sarah is in, fixing her with a grin. “I’m glad you think so,” she hums, pretty sure Sarah’s heart must be working overtime right about now, and both knowing the exact reason why. “Now let’s finish these examinations.”

#medtober 2021 #even though it's november and this fic is basically almost exactly 1 month late oops #med school!au #my aus #my writing #sarah reese #ava bekker #chicago med

[mittensmorgul]

Incoming sad rant about the spn ending. Don't read if you're not interested in reading something like that, but I literally don't know anyone in real life I can talk about this with, and I really need an outlet:

Sometimes I can put the way SPN ended out of my head and think "it's just a stupid show. I don't have to accept the finale, and the writers/network are wrong." But other times I just get gripped with really intense sadness at the disrespect that was done to my favorite characters. To the point where I'll sit still for hours a day, just wallowing in it. It ruins my whole day and mood. And then I think to myself "I'll just find some other stories that end better!" but then I get sad again, cuz I don't think I will ever love other characters as much as I love Dean and Cas, and then I spiral again thinking about all the potential this unique beautiful love story had, and how we're never going to get the closure we deserve.

I really hate that after all this time, I'm a grown ass adult getting sad over fictional characters. I know it's not that trivial, but I sometimes wish it was so I could get over it 😞

Hi hi, and first of all *socially distanced internet hugs* I’m sorry you don’t have an outlet, but you’re always welcome to chat with me (if you come off anon we can talk privately if you want. My DM’s are always open, even when it takes me a bit to reply. no one should have to feel alone in this.)

I’m actually gonna start at the bottom of your message and work my way up, because I also, as a grown-ass adult, get sad over fictional characters. And I need to emphasize that this is the *point* of fiction. A well-written and developed fictional character is *indistinguishable in our minds from an actual real human being.* The way we react to them *feels exactly the same to our brains and bodies* as how we react to real people, and that’s a testament to just how well developed Dean and Cas were in canon.

I am not a young person. I have engaged with a lot of media over my life, and have *never* felt this strongly about fictional characters before, so I understand what you mean when you struggle to think about finding another story that ended better, or struggle to think about finding other characters you might become this attached to or experience this sort of emotional investment in. And I think there is another factor you didn’t consider there: The vast majority of other media I have engaged with, I was able to relate to on a level of “oh that’s nice for them” or “wow that sucks for them.” I have never, and possibly never will again, feel so utterly invested in fictional characters, to the point where it affects my real life as much as Supernatural has. Period.

I will likely never experience *literal physical lovesickness* over two fictional characters ever again. I hadn’t ever experienced it *in my own real life* before, and yet 15.18 triggered all those symptoms in me. As an aromantic person, this was pretty shocking to me. It also says a lot about just how real these characters feel to us, and how important they have become to us. They make us feel this! This is not an accident. It’s *incredibly difficult* to create fictional characters with this range and depth of emotional connection, and yet here we are.

I think that’s the biggest evidence possibly to present in defense of the statement that THIS IS NOT JUST SOME STUPID SHOW.

Other evidence: this fandom, still going strong after 15 years. Look at every SPN convention for proof. Look at AO3, where there are more posted stories about Dean and Cas than literally any other pairing on the planet (by a not-small margin, too). If that isn’t enough evidence, we have fanart to look at as well. Look through @theroadsofararchive where at the time of this posting there are over 40,000 artworks catalogued, and more being added all the time. Same with @canonspngifs where you can search through through nearly 75,000 gifsets organized by an excellent tagging system and made by dedicated fans out of love for the thing. This is all proof that you are not alone, that so many of us care just as deeply about them as you do. Not even mentioning the people who have written hundreds of millions of words of meta, articles, and even masters theses and doctoral dissertations on Supernatural and the fandom. This is a unique thing, even within the larger fandom culture. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that your feelings for it are stupid or irrelevant or wrong.

But also don’t let anyone try to convince you that you must accept the finale as part of the story if you don’t want to. Don’t even let *yourself* believe that if you don’t want to. This show has done more to play with the themes of “what is reality” and “who gives a story meaning” and alternate universes and curses and djinn dreams to easily account for whatever the heck the finale was.

my current go-to theory: everything after Chuck’s defeat takes place in the Mockumentary Alternate Universe... it fits way too uncomfortably well... and then I just apply the fic I received in a cosmic transmission from the actual supernatural universe wrote detailing the events of what *I* hoped would transpire afterward. I know this doesn’t work for everyone, but it works for me, mostly because it *has* to. It means far too much to me not to.

You are not alone in having invested yourself into this story, and these characters. Your feelings about them are not wrong or stupid or frivolous. And the proof is everyone else who feels the same exact way, who connected to this story (and to each other through this story), and whose lives have been forever altered through this journey together. The fact that Dabb turned out to have been Chuck Junior and couldn’t see (or was prevented from showing us) what Team Free Will would’ve chosen to do with that after defeating their original creator just stands to prove to me that the finale can’t possibly be The Truth, you know?

I don’t know if any of this will help you, or provide you some small comfort right now, but maybe it will eventually. We’re all processing the loss of the show and the abject failure of story that was the finale in different ways, and I’m sure our emotional reactions will shift over time. It was just A Lot to process all in the span of a few incredibly emotional weeks-- not even mentioning how all of that emotional response was compounded by the american elections and surrounding nonsense, the general stress of enduring a global pandemic and all that entails, and *waves hands around broadly at everything else contributing to the trauma occurring in the collective of humankind right now.* We’ve all been emotionally compromised, so be kind to yourself in how you feel you’re coping with it all.

And know that no matter what, you are not alone in how you’re feeling. The grief is real, and our brains don’t care if it’s felt for fictional characters or real people. This was honestly a once in a lifetime experience for a lot of us, and not even the wtf of the finale can kill it for us if we don’t let it. I reject that particular piece of rusty rebar and choose to believe in a just and narratively coherent resolution. To do anything less feels like dishonoring the story and characters who have drawn me in and made me feel so much for them over the years. If the story itself couldn’t honor them properly, then I can choose to do so myself.

<3

#spn 15.20 #finale what finale #seriously though none of us are alone in this #Anonymous

[mrknifes]

If you have the time, I'd really like to know your thoughts abt kinda what happens/how the Justice League reacts to finding out Bruce is autistic if/when they do? I know Bruce doesn't like telling ppl cuz past bad experiences (but like,,,same) so I'd imagine your co-workers(friends)/most powerful beings in existence suddenly finding out would be stressful

I feel like Bruce would probably tell each of them privately as he gets to know them better. Bruce has always been very introverted and avoids interacting with League members except when necessary, so I don’t imagine he’d just come out with it in front of everyone. He most likely tells Clark & Diana first, since both are his best friends in canon. And depending on what continuity you follow, I think Bruce knows Ollie before the Justice League is formed. (I’m not an expert, though, so don’t take my word for it.) So in that case, I’m sure Oliver would probably know as well, before the others. Then, Bruce starts informing the rest of the members once he forms friendships with each of them. He does have trust issues, though, so I imagine he likely doesn’t mention anything to people he doesn’t interact with as much.

I’m not necessarily knowledgeable on all the members, and I know the roster changes depending on the media, and the writers, etc. So I can’t really speak in terms of how everyone would react. But I imagine it could be shocking to some, and more of an “aha, i knew it!”/”ohh that makes so much sense” to other members.

Personally, I don’t headcanon Clark as neurodivergent, so I can see Bruce helping educate him & explaining how to connect with each other better by understanding their differences in communication & feelings.

I do, however, headcanon Hal as having ADHD, so I like to think that they form some solidarity over some of their similar symptoms.

Perhaps in the future I can make a more detailed post, once I start reading more about every League member!

#asks #answered #autistic bruce wayne #autistic batman #Anonymous #long post #north.txt

[normal-thoughts-official]

Do you think Alec and Magnus use condoms? How do you think warlocks deal with STD?

REALLY interesting question, i must say that i love it. thank you anon. i hope you know that i will take it way too seriously

okay, so the first question is, ARE magnus and alec susceptible to STDs? unexpected p-words are not a problem because warlocks are sterile anyway (and, if you subscribe to both magnus and alec being of the same AGAB, also because it's not possible to get both gametes or whatever), so let's focus on the STD aspect (really important!). i think human STDs would not affect them, or at least not magnus. maybe alec because shadowhunters are notably more susceptible to weaknesses humans have, like disease and mortality and whatnot. but would human STDs affect warlocks?

i tend to go with no, because warlocks are immortal. immortality, especially as it is built in the sh verse (immortals can be killed but their body won't die on its own) kind of implies that they have, like, supercells or superorgans or something, that don't deteriorate - or, alternatively, that can rebuild way faster than they could be deterioriated. im saying that because stuff like aging and eventually dying is essentially the process in which your body can no longer replace dying cells at the same speed at which they die, which leads to your body weakening as a lot of its functions are impaired. therefore, immortality as in not aging and not dying on your own but still being able to be killed if you are, say, stabbed, implies that that process simply doesn't happen. so we have one of the two: either the cells don't die, or the speed at which they are replaced never changes

in my understanding, this implies that diseases don't affect immortals. maybe they can even contract them, but their body is too strong for it to have an effect. like having a disease without symptoms. but i tend to believe that rather than living with 8945134081 deadly viruses and bacteria inside them just sleeping around, the viruses and bacteria simply can't live inside them - both because superbody means super-immunological system and because superbody means that the bacteria and viruses essentially have no place to grow in, as they can't break their cells or whatever it is that that particular strain does

like - and that is true particularly for viruses as far as i remember, not so much bacteria - the way these mfs work is that they attack the cells of a body and use them to reproduce. but if you are talking about a body that has cells that are essentially unbreakable or so highly regenerative any attack on them is dealt with so quickly it doesn't even have an effect, i don't think any virus should be able to break into their cells in the first place. they would die without reproducing and bam, done. if you are going with the second theory (warlock cells do die, they just can keep replacing them as much as they want without a problem) then you probably have a situation where the virus can reproduce, but its reproduction doesn't lead to any problems because the dead cells are replaced as fast as they are killed. in that case, the warlock would be, technically, carrying the disease indefinitely. but i tend to think that considering how strong that body is and the fact that they have an immunological system (as they are half human and have no reason not to inherit that from their human parents) that is ALSO mega strong would mean these viruses would probably be eliminated quickly

bacterial diseases are different since mostly what bacterias do (again as far as i remember) is that they live inside the body, not necessarily inside the cells, but using the body's space to reproduce, and eventually their presence - usually due to the fact that they produce toxic elements that affect the host - leads to nearby cells dying/the space they are in deteriorating, etc. but again warlock's cells are either essentially unbreakable or highly regenerative, so that wouldn't be a problem, and they could overpower invasive bacteria easily before a colony could form. so, no human bacterial diseases would be able to flourish, either

and that's not even considering the fact that as they are half human they probably have an immunological system that is ALSO superstrong and therefore able to fuck up any disease causers. or the role magic might take in protecting the body, like, who's to say the magic itself doesn't kill any invasive bacteria or viruses that come into the body before it can do anything? why not?

so all of that, allied with the fact that many viruses and bacteria are evolved to develop within the systems of a particular species (for example, that particular virus has evolved to grow in a cow's digestive system, and therefore can't survive for long in a monkey's or a human's), is interpreted by me as "warlocks can't contract human diseases", since warlocks are a different species from humans, as are shadowhunters. sure, they're hybrids, which makes this part of the argument a little more complicated but obviously their demon side is stronger than their human side, since they are immortal. and demons definitely aren't getting rabies or whatever because that is just too fucking lame

so okay! no human STDs. we have established that now. bUT, i think it's possible that warlocks are able to contract their OWN diseases - strains that attack warlocks specifically, particularly a warlock's magic, since again they kind of have a superbody but i feel like the magic is a more fragile thing, especially as they aren't fully magical (because they're half human)

don't ask me how these work <3 obviously magic can interact with non-magical beings and elements so maybe there are bacteria are viruses that developed specifically to settle in magical components, but that sounds like a huge evolutive leap since magic is so different from like, cells. or maybe there are also magical beings that work as disease transmitters in a similar but essentially different way. and they probably can also be transmitted via sex because i mean, why not? sounds as good a mean as any

but, could magnus and alec transmit those to each other? i don't think so, because shadowhunters have wildly different magic from the one warlocks do - their magic is angel magic, warlock's is demon magic, AND, furthermore, they work in completely different ways. for starters, shadowhunters magic is so pathetic diluted that some of them don't even consider it magic at all. i mean, that is also because of good ole racism (hardly the first time racism led people to call the exact same thing by different names so they can convince themselves their way of being is superior even when it is the same) but there is a huge difference because warlocks are able to conjure and interact with magic and have it as a part of their beings and experience of the world through it, whereas shadowhunters can "borrow" particular powers for a small period of time at best. it is possible that the magic doesn't even exist within them, they are just capable of handling it inside their bodies for some time, which is why they need runes to use it and it has a limited effect

so i think diseases that affect warlocks could not be passed between magnus and alec, and WOW is it weird to realize that magnus and alec are of different species. like i knew that but when that knowledge comes to practice it's just so weird. anyway

and idk if diseases that affect warlocks would be able to live dormant inside shadowhunters and then be transmitted because, like i said, shadowhunters have completely different magic if they even have it at all, and i don't think the disease beings that live in warlock magic would be able to be inside their body. so, to answer your first question - i don't think magnus and alec would NEED condoms, because i don't think they are capable of passing STDs to each other, and in at the very least magnus' case (debatable for alec, i tend to think that because shadowhunters are essentially human they can catch any disease humans can, altho maybe they have a rune to begone them) i don't think they can even catch human STDs. and magnus has a cum kink so that probably means no condoms

as for how warlocks deal with STDs! like i said i think they are only affected by STDs (and diseases in general) that affect their magic, not their body. so, they probably have treatments for those. we gotta remember that warlocks have a very developed society full of academics, so they probably have worked to find cures for magical diseases, if they exist at all. so, there are probably particular treatments for those. i don't think magical diseases abound or anything, particularly because the amount of magical beings is pretty limited and magic is so different from non-magical elements so non-magical beings such as viruses and bacteria would have to change a lot to be able to evolve into magic-affecting beings. again, if they even exist. but yeah i think they as a (group of) society(ies) have worked on cures for those. which is funny to think about because like, do they blast the magical diseases with begone rays or something? please say yes. id love that

with all of that being said, i hope u know that i was planning on answering asks the next weekend (not this one, the other one) cuz ive been busy as hell lately and it'll be the first time i'll have time lmao, and i was literally just in a bathroom break between readings when i saw this ask and i just couldn't resist answering it. this is it. what broke my studying resolve. magical STDs. you should be proud

mandatory disclaimer that please for the love of god use condoms, you are not immune to STDs. also, this post is about show canon, not book canon, so i don't care if this is in accordance to what the books say. also, i'm no expert in healthcare, this post is just for fun, so don't take anything i used to build my arguments as scientific truth or anything like that

#sh #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #dirty words #hello everyone! i have been gone for quite some time. please accept: this #now back to studying #lore #meta #ask #anonymous #long post #im not sure if this is very comprehensible but i did my best

[riotwritesthings]

Ode to Yoga Pants

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony

AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Title: Ode to Yoga Pants Collaborator Name: Riot Bucky Barnes Bingo Square Filled: K5, Team Dynamics StarkBucks Bingo Square Filled: O5, “I’d like it if you stayed.” Ship/Main Pairing: WinterIron Rating: M Major Tags & Triggers: Mutually pining morons, humor Summary: OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun Word Count: 2,282

Here on AO3!

-

Tony is heading to the gym for Steve’s newly mandated team training time and yeah, he’s late, but he does have coffee. So at least he’s on brand.

It looks like everyone else has beat him here, which isn’t really surprising, and Tony tosses out a grin and wave in response to the unimpressed look Steve shoots him.

Then his eyes land on Bucky. Who is doing one armed pushups. Completely vertically, pointed toes up in the air and strands of hair falling loose around his face where it’s come loose from the hair tie. And he is in yoga pants.

They hug his calves, his ass, his thighs, tight black spandex with gray piping up sides and Tony is weak.

Forget team bonding, Tony needs to get out of here right now, before he makes a fool of himself. Except he spins too quickly, hot coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug and onto his fingers, and he’s so busy hissing over the sharp burst of pain that he walks straight into the door as it swings shut.

“Ack, fuck,” Tony gasps, more hot coffee splashing out across his hand, rubbing at his forehead and apparently he’s a little dizzy because he goes to take a step back and tilts to the side instead, bouncing off the wall.

He’s almost caught his balance, and then he trips over Sam’s stupid jump rope, and then his thighs hit the weight bench and he tumbles backwards over it, the last dregs of his coffee somehow ending up entirely on his chest.

“Damnit Wilson,” Tony grumbles, “I knew you were out to get me!”

There’s a soft chuckle from somewhere above him, and Tony pries his eyes open. He’s half expecting to see Sam, ready to defend himself and deny that he’s trying to kill Tony with workout equipment even though he very clearly is.

Instead it’s Bucky, leaning over him all shirtless and sweaty and concerned.

“You okay, doll?”

When Tony tries to speak all that comes out is a strangled gurgling sound, and Bucky’s concerned look gets deeper.

-

“Gross, they’re doing it again,” Sam complains, pausing mid situp to shoot a glare across the gym.

When Steve glances away from sparring with Natasha she takes the opportunity to pop him in the throat.

“This isn’t even funny anymore,” Natasha says while Steve coughs and hacks and gives her a dirty look.

“It stopped being funny weeks ago,” Rhodey says as he leans against the ropes of the boxing ring and shakes his head in disappointment.

“You’re just saying that because that’s when you were officially out of the betting pool,” Clint says with a snort.

“I really didn’t think it would take them this long,” he says with a morose sigh, “I’m ashamed.”

Steve makes a sound that might be agreement.

“New bet, how much worse can it possibly get?” Sam tries to joke, but he has a terrible feeling that it’s not a joke at all.

“I think we’re all the losers in that bet,” Natasha says as they all watch Bucky help a still clearly-swooning Tony out of the gym.

The poor pining morons don’t even notice they have an audience. Just like Bucky somehow doesn’t notice that Tony is literal putty in his hands, and Tony mysteriously doesn’t notice Bucky giving him the sappiest heart eyes ever.

It’s shameful, is what it is.

-

Tony lets Bucky drag him into the kitchen, sinks onto one of the stools when gently pushed in that direction, and he’s becoming uncomfortably aware that his shirt is still splattered with cooling coffee and probably clinging to his chest.

He should probably go change, and then maybe go hide out somewhere until he figures out how to deal with Bucky in yoga pants.

But before Tony can figure out how to convince his legs to actually move, Bucky is done digging around in the freezer and by his side again.

“Ow,” Tony says with an exaggerated wince as Bucky presses a bag of ice to the back of his head, and then nearly melts out of his seat when Bucky shushes him with a wide palm running down the back of his neck.

He’s not actually as rattled as Bucky seems to think he is, but Tony certainly isn’t going to correct him. It’s a much safer excuse than admitting his brain went to mush the second he saw Bucky’s thighs, all wrapped up and accentuated in tight black spandex, and it still hasn’t quite come back online.

From here, with Bucky standing beside him and gently holding his head still while Tony stares studiously at the floor, all Tony can see of Bucky is his foot. The tight black fabric ends just above the delicate bones of his ankle, his bare toes wiggling against the tile floor as he pulls the ice away and inspects Tony’s head.

Forget getting his brain working again, Tony is just trying to keep his stupid heart from crawling its way up his throat over ankles. Like some kind of repressed Puritan, Jesus.

Which means he can’t at all stop himself from nervously stuttering out “Those-those are uh, nice... you like yoga pants huh?”

There’s a vague sense of motion beside him, like Bucky is shrugging, as he says “They’re comfortable.”

“Uh huh, they-“ Tony starts to say, and then nearly swallows his tongue when Bucky steps around in front of him again.

His eyes automatically drag upwards, and it takes everything Tony has not to let himself linger, not to get caught staring at the frankly mouthwatering bulge of Bucky’s cock that his skin tight leggings are not doing a very good job of hiding.

He jerks his gaze up higher and it doesn’t help because oh god there’s Bucky’s chest, still bare and so close and by the time he finally manages to make himself look up at Bucky’s face he can’t breathe.

“They- uh, s-sure look it,” Tony stutters out, and furious blushing is totally a symptom of a concussion, right?!

Bucky’s smile stays warm and friendly, so he’s probably alright.

And all Bucky says is “You should try them! I can send you the site I got ‘em from, Nat recommended it to me.”

“Okay,” Tony squeaks and damnit he’s actually going to have to buy some yoga pants now. There’s no other way to play off his sudden fascination with them.

-

A week later, everyone has lost the bet.

They find the two morons asleep together on the couch, legs tangled and blankets wrapped around them both.

The entire team agrees it’s the most disgusting thing they’ve ever seen.

-

Steve is taking his frustrations out on a punching bag when Bucky suddenly ducks behind the bag, grabbing it and holding it still so he can hide behind it.

“What is this, why are you doing this?” Steve demands, rhythm thrown and half-debating just punching the bag anyways in the hopes that it’ll shake Bucky loose.

“Steve,” Bucky hisses, like he somehow hasn’t noticed that he already has Steve’s full attention, “Steve, I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s head pops out from around the punching bag, eyes fixed on something across the gym as he hisses “Tony bought yoga pants.”

Steve turns and sure enough, Tony and Natasha are standing near the sparring mats in matching black and gray patterned spandex.

“Does Nat get money every time she talks someone into buying those?” Steve has to wonder, because she has been relentlessly texting him the link too.

“Steve,” Bucky hisses again, “Steven. I can’t- how do I even- Steve-“

“What?!” Steve demands impatiently, because he really wants to go back to punching things, and not thinking about the awkward mating dance of his best friends.

“Look at his ass!”

Steve huffs and resists the urge to gag at the open reverence in Bucky’s tone. He does turn though, just in time to watch Tony bend over in a low stretch.

“Perfect little bubble, I just wanna bury my face in it and live there,” Bucky sighs.

“Huh,” Steve says, tilting his head a little to get a better view because damn, Bucky is not exactly wrong- “Ow!” He squawks when Bucky swings the punching bag into him, “you’re the one who told me to look!”

“Not like that!” Bucky snaps back. It looks like he’s considering hitting Steve with the punching bag again, and Steve holds up a single finger in warning.

“Do not,” he says sternly.

Bucky settles for just hugging the bag instead, gaze already drifting across the gym again. Steve has a terrible feeling he’s not going to get back to his workout.

“Please just ask him out,” Steve says plaintively, “pretend to act like a functional person.”

“How am I supposed to function when faced with The Most Amazing Ass Ever™️?!” Bucky demands, and then makes a weird whimpering sound as Tony no doubt does something. Like existing.

Steve refuses to look over, instead just sighing out “Get off my punching bag, you’re making this so weird.”

“I’m filin’ a complaint,” Bucky says, clearly not listening to him anymore and still staring with rapt attention at where Tony is apparently doing something fascinating. “These pants are supposed to be ‘super stretchy’ but they clearly did not count on boners cuz my dick is strangled.”

“Excuse me,” Steve says, already walking away, “I need to go vomit.”

Hell, next week he might skip mandatory team training.

-

Tony is laying on his stomach on the common room floor, propped up on his elbows as he pokes at his phone and kicks his feet lazily in the air.

He’s wearing bright red yoga pants today, and even Clint is not immune.

He catches himself after a couple seconds of staring at the swell and bounce of Tony’s ass, and gives himself a vigorous shake. That’s a good way to earn the Winter Soldier Death Glare.

Even if said Winter Soldier is too much of a disaster to actually do anything about his super obvious crush.

“So are yoga pants just the new thing?” Clint asks, climbing over the back of the couch and keeping his eyes safely on Tony’s face, because he does not want to be assassined to death today. “You’re just gonna wear them all the time?”

“They’re comfortable,” Tony says with an absent shrug, then grins up at Clint and wiggles his eyebrows as he adds “Plus, they make my ass look great.”

And Clint can’t exactly argue that, so instead he just flatly says “You’re going to give Barnes a heart attack.”

Tony looks confused for a split second, and then smiles widely.

“Because I pull them off so much better than he does?” he asks, striking a pose, and Clint seriously considers running away to join the circus. Again.

He’s not even sure if things will actually be better if they eventually get together at this point.

He should make that the new bet.

-

“I’m just saying,” Tony insists, and then raises his voice when Steve put his head down on the table and starts humming under his breath, “If I thought Bucky was actually interested, I would 100% be here for him. With open arms-“

“Well that’s actually kind of-“

“And open legs-“

“Tony-“

“And an open mouth,” Tony finishes, grinning and winking when Steve looks up at him with a glare.

“Tony, please, I don’t want to hear this,” Steve says, hands over his ears and he does actually look a little green.

“This is nothing,” Tony says with a scoff, giving Steve an unimpressed look, because he is weak. “You should hear the shit I say to Rhodey.”

“I would like to hear those things,” says a voice directly behind him.

Tony freezes, his entire body going cold, because he knows that low, warm, rumbling voice. He hears it in his dreams, and oh no oh no oh no, now Bucky knows.

So much for his plausible deniability.

His brain kind of goes staticy with panic for a second, and he’s only dimly aware of Steve rolling his eyes.

“Yeah my part in this conversation is done,” Steve says, and promptly bails.

When Tony’s brain finally reboots he finds that Bucky has taken Steve’s seat across the kitchen table.

Bucky is also just grinning at him, like he doesn’t find Tony’s borderline-obsessive crush at all creepy.

All Tony can think to say is “What.”

And then he realizes he doesn’t actually want an answer, doesn’t want to find out if Bucky is going to make fun of him, or if he thinks it’s all a joke. He can’t decide if that would actually be better or worse than being turned down gently, and he doesn’t intend to stay and find out.

“I’m just...” Tony sputters, face burning as he flails his way out of his chair, “Gonna- gonna go. Run away. Yep.”

“Wait,” Bucky says, eyes wide and halfway out of his own chair.

Tony freezes, because Bucky looks a lot like he feels. Thrown, surprised, confused and so hopeful that it’s terrifying.

“I-I’d like it if you stayed,” Bucky says slowly, then smiles crooked and nervous as he adds “Not that I don’t like watchin’ you walk away.”

It startles a laugh out of Tony, face flushing as he sinks back into his chair. “Okay,” he says, heart racing and smile almost painfully wide, “um, what?”

Bucky laughs, soft and low and warm, and finally finishes reaching across the table to take Tony’s hand in his own.

-

Clint wins the bet on how much worse their lives get once the love-struck morons start making out all over the place.

#my fic #winteriron #starkbucks #bucky/tony #starkbucksbingo2020 #buckybarnesbingo2020 #im not sorry for this either

[raspberrychan]

skz reaction when u have an asthma attack except it’s hyung line cuz I saw a really inaccurate one

Chan

“Are you enjoying the park?” He asked, gleaming.

“Of course.” You giggled, tightening your grip around the backpack on your back.

“Good.” He grinned, tightening his grip on your hand.

Walking hand in hand, you felt you chest close up. You took several deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. (It didn’t work, obvi.)

You started to feel lightheaded, even more dizzy.

You coughed, big mistake.

You coughed and coughed until you couldn’t anymore.

“Babe?!” Chan said frantically, “Are you alright?!”

You nodded, “I’m fine.”

Shortness of breath. Common sign of an asthma attack.

Your head was pounding as you searched for a bench to sit on.

You ripped open your bag as you sat down, searching for your inhaler as calmly as you could, you didn’t wanna worry Chan as much as he was worried now.

Tearing the inhaler box out the bag, you quickly placed it up to your mouth.

One push, breathe in, breathe out, repeat again.

You felt your chest calm. It was still hard to breathe.

“Are you alright now?!” Chan asked, grabbing you hands frantically. He looked incredibly worried, wrinkles forming in his forehead.

You nodded, taking several deep breathes. “It was because of the pollen.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t have took you here. I’m so sorry-”

“It’s not your fault.” You smiled.

Chan couldn’t find his words, he looked genuinely sorry.

“I’m still sorry…”

“I accept!” You smiled, leaning onto his shoulder.

————

Minho

“Soonie, Doongie, and Dori!” Minho cheered, swiping through his gallery, “You can’t meet them though, they’re all in my room.”

You smiled. You can admit, his cats are deathly adorable. But it was sad that you couldn’t come near them, it would trigger your allergies and asthma. Sad.

After you talked and talked, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Fuck.

Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down, calm it down.

It worked, slightly. Until you sneezed. You were glad that your allergies weren’t as severe as others but, someone must’ve cursed you. Asthma and allergies were not a good mix.

Minho walked away, getting you a tissue. You sneezed again, coughing immediately after.

You cursed at yourself.

“Are you alright?” He had a slight smirk on his face.

“Mhm, just need a Benadryl.” You slipped your hand in your bag, pulling out the familiar pill and slipping it in your mouth, taking it dry. You just wanted this to be over with.

Your symptoms had calmed down but, your chest was still tight.

Breathe in, breathe out— fuck, that doesn’t work anymore.

Minho looked at you in concern, he noticed your congested look a little over a while ago.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He rubbed small circles on your back, hoping it worked in the slightest.

You nodded, searching through your bag. Pulling out the familiar red cylinder, you didn’t hesitate to slip it in your mouth.

Two pumps, breathe in and out between each.

Popping the cap back on, you threw it back in your bag.

“Shouldn’t you be a little more careful with that?” Minho asked, tugging you a little more closer to him.

“Eh, I really should.” You laid your head on his shoulder, “My brain is too fuzzy to think right now.”

“Understandable.”

————

Changbin

Fuck.

Changbin’s always been one to race, no matter where or when it was. So when he asked “wanna race?” it was like it was mandatory.

Your body wasn’t particularly in the shape to race right now, inside wise. You were running around so much all day and fuck, it felt like your lungs were trapped in such a tight space. Running would just make you wanna rip them out. But hey, anything for Changbin, right.

Luckily, there was a track right by where you and him were walking. He grabbed your hand, dragging you down the hill.

He was already on the track. You threw your bags down and joined him.

3.

You crouched slightly getting into the right position to run.

2.

Deep breaths, Y/N, deep breaths.

1.

Changbin sprinted off. He’s always been a fast runner, which is why you’re always so confused when he asks to race, knowing that he’ll beat you.

Was it just something he enjoyed? What did he get out of teasing you for losing?

Was it… was it a ki— No. Changbin isn’t like that. Not at all.

Your mind wandered as you ran. You caught up to Changbin, seeing his smug look as you and him reached the end of the track.

Your knees buckled, falling to the ground. You couldn’t breathe. At all.

Fuck, this is bad.

You used your hands to stabilize yourself, vision getting blurry.

“Seems like someone can’t race, eh?” Changbin chuckled.

“Bin.”

“Hm?” He giggled randomly, “need me to help you up?”

“No. Get my bag.”

“Bag?”

“Yes, my fucking bag. Quick, please.” You pushed yourself up, sitting on the concrete.

Short breaths, but still breathing.

You saw Changbin run to the bleachers and run back as quick as he can, carefully dropping the bag in front of you.

You ripped the inhaler out the bag, popping it in your mouth.

Push. In, hold it, out. Repeat.

You dropped the inhaler on the ground, not caring. Too tired, too weak to care.

“Are you okay?!” Changbin capped the inhaler, fumbling with it, then slipping it in your bag. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you run…”

“No, it’s fine.”

“It’s not!” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a hug, “I’m really sorry…”

“If you’re so sorry, help me up and get me home.” You chuckled.

He quickly hoisted you up, wrapping your arm around his neck and his arm around your waist.

“I’ll try and carry you home.” He chuckled, picking up both the bags and walking.

#stray kids #skz #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #kpop #kpop imagines #asthma #it’s 6am #sorry hyunjin :( #icb I wrote this instead of my au #sighs

[strawberrybabydog]

My mh person told me that because my beliefs (mostly that I’m being filmed, people want to kill me or have broken in) aren’t a constant that it can’t be delusions/psychosis but they wouldn’t elaborate. Most of the time I do know and don’t feel that they are real, but I have periods where I believe them 100% and will end up hiding in bathtub not moving for hours because I’m so scared... if this isn’t psychosis/delusions do you know what it could be? + a game of ball from a fellow pup <3

i dont know who your MH person is but they clearly do not know how delusions work, and im so sorry they told you that.

you may not be actively delusional all the time, but that doesn't negate the fact that you still experience delusions at all... it wouldn't be psychosis (psychosis is typically a combination of 2 or more positive psychotic symptoms, not just 1) but it's still delusional disorder. when talking about delusions with a mental health professional, in my experience it's best to find someone who knows what they're talking about and has studied this specifically. psychosis isn't like depression where it's super common and every psychologist knows about it, it's uncommon and very specific and if a MH professional doesn't know about it they really shouldnt say anything about it at all; cuz then you end up with shit like this.

thank u for the ball game!! <3 lets play again soon ^_^

#sorry im just mad they said that to you thats really shitty #cuz its shit like that that makes psychotic people NOT pursue help #delusions #therapy #asks

[botwstoriesandsuch]

The reason aoc had no stakes is cuz even if we lost link would just take a nap and then wake up and murder ganon with a stick

Ok I recognize that this is a joke and I love you good job have a lil kiss *mwah* nice joke nice joke but also I am in MAJOR WRITING MODE which means that I am prompted to write essays on the storytelling process at the flip of a switch and buddy, pal, chum, mate, this is a major switch that has been flipped

Because it gets on my nerves, it’s one of my BIGGEST PET PEEVES of ALL TIME, I abso-fucking-lutely DESPISE, when people think that stakes is equivalent to life and death. I just hate it, it makes me seethe to no end. I could grip the clouds from the heavens, and my rage would make it rain upwards.

People who think stakes is just about winning or losing or living or dying, I will stake you, I will do violent crimes. You wanna know why those big superhero movies like Justice League and what not don’t work? It’s because it thinks that big giant death armies are meaningful stakes. You know stuff like Civil War, or hell even shows like Attack on Titan or Gravity Falls work? It’s because it’s stakes exist both externally and internally, and the consequences of actions exist beyond just living or dying or winning or losing.

Listen to me very closely. The reason Age of Calamity has no stakes, is because you don’t care about the characters. It’s not because of the timelines, or resurrections, or whatever whatever, no. It’s because you don’t care about the characters.

Now Ashshshshsh, yes you love your bird and fish husbands and wives very much ok yes I get that, I do too. BUT, BUT, when you look at this from the storytelling perspective, like thinking from the perspective of someone experiencing the story fresh for the very first time, with or without botw context. You did not care about the characters, you cared about the ending. That is why there are no stakes. 

Why the fuck do you care if Teba dies? Like, sure, if Teba dies, you are sad, the character that you love is dead, you might even cry! But why do you care, what are the consequences of his death, what happens if he dies, what does he, on a character level lose?

What you’re typically supposed to do to get your audience to care, is establish a character, develop them, then give them a goal and a need to attain that goal, a good goal or motivation that affects a character both externally and internally, and then when the conflict or battle comes up, you’re left with that feeling of “oh no, I really hope this character wins, because otherwise, [insert something] happens, and I don’t want that.” That’s what stakes is, in very broad concept. 

That’s why living and dying is a form of stakes, but it’s not the only one. “Oh no, this character is hurt, I really hope this character wins, because I like them, and I want them to live.” That’s you stakes. Same idea with winning and losing. “Oh no, this character is losing this volleyball match. I really hope this character wins, because they’ve worked hard to reach their goal, and I don’t want to see that go to waste.” Okay, great. 

Now the PROBLEM is, those concepts are overdone to the point of extinction, like it’s arguable that the stakes of living and dying just doesn’t exist as a strong good form of stakes in media anymore. Whether by symptom of plot armour, of predictable writing, or the establishment of modern tropes and clichés, blah blah blah, you can’t solely rely on those ideas for stakes. ESPECIALLY in the realm, of video games. I don’t need to spell out the whole living and dying aspect of it right? And the winning and losing stakes goes out the window because that concept has an entirely different meaning and tone when the player is the one in control. Essentially what I’m saying here is, on a character level, you can’t rely on those ideas as a sense of stakes because it just doesn’t have meaning. But the thing is, Age of Calamity does rely on it. And it SOME aspects, it worked. 

You have experience good stakes in this game before. You’ve probably done it on some crazy tough side mission or some interesting self-made quest to find yourself that last raw bird wing to finish up that upgrade. You yourself struggled, and understood the journey that you went through, the time that you invested to make yourself better (as big or small as it may be) at the game, and you eventually beat that level, or found that item. And you were genuinely relieved and happy. Whether you realized it or not, you were on the edge of your seat, intently focused on the task and “battle” at hand, you were invested in yourself, and the effects of the outcome of your struggle. That’s what good stakes does. That’s why so many videogames have impactful story telling.

But listen here, the reason you only experience those good stakes through the gameplay, is because you don’t need to put in the effort to care about yourself. You’re you! You know yourself, you played out your motivations and struggles. That all happens without the games help. So now the issue becomes, you need to emulate that same feeling for the story world and it’s characters. And Age of Calamity just puts in none of the meaningful work to get you care about the CHARACTERS on a CHARACTER LEVEL. It relies SOLEY on the work done by Breath of the Wild, with the exceptions of maybe Kohga and King Rhoam. And also Sidon is an exception in the sense that his relationship to his sister is a pretty decent stake (but tbh the bar is VERY LOW)

We’ve established how the stakes of winning or losing or living through a battle don’t have as much strength as motivations or stakes in this game. So, knowing that....Name Daruk’s motivation. Name a true and honest reason why Zelda shouldn’t die. And don’t tell me that “because it would make the other characters sad” because that is just a reaction to events (based on the characterization and writing work done by AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT GAME cause again Hwaoc doesn’t character develop for shit) being sad isn’t motivation, or stakes. Being sad is a normal human reaction to anything ever, it isn’t anything new, and by god it doesn’t inherently impact the world or story around you.

You know what would have been good stakes? If Age of Calamity developed the New Gen Champs a bit more and maybe one of them could say something like, “I feel it’s my duty to help stop the Calamity, because the fact that I time traveled here means that I have a big responsibility, and if we lose then I’m a failure in both this time and my own. So I need to step up to the plate that has been set for me” or something something. Or, and this is a big one, give ASTOR something to do (because stakes is inherently about CONFLICT and you can’t have good internal and external stakes when there is nothing to CONFLICT with the other characters) let Astor be like “This world doesn’t deserve to go on, humanity has made too many mistakes, I was abandonded as a child, the King murdered my mom, I need power to get revenge, or to revive some dead family member” blah blah blah pick one of the clichés but at least it would be SOMETHING. When motivations conflict, that’s what gets you to care about characters, because then it’s not just about living or dying, it about the effects of that death, or that loss. If this character dies, they died believing a lie, or believing they were a failure and I don’t want that. If this character is defeated, they won’t get another chance to save the people they care about, and I don’t want them living with regret. These two characters have sympathetic goals, and I can see the points that both sides have with their motivation, but I also like them so I don’t want them to die, oh no, what’s gonna happen. 

If you don’t CARE about the characters, and their goals, if the only thing that’s keeping you awake at night about them living or dying is “I like them” then there is something wrong. 

You didn’t finish Age of Calamity because of the characters, you didn’t finish it out of an honest desire to see these characters reach their goals. MAYBE there’s a connection you had for Zelda, but honestly compared to Breath of the Wild, it’s nothing. You finished Age of Calamity simply out of curiosity to see what happened at the end, to see what your efforts of gameplay lead up to. You had no actual character arcs to latch onto or care about, which means you had no expectations or desire to see how they would play out, no STAKES no INVESTMENT. Which means live, die, resurrect, or perma-death as you see, you’re not invested in the characters, your invested in the time you put into that media. 

#hwaoc spoilers #also not to be a film nerd on zelda-sideblog but this is why Age of Ultron doesn't have the same effect as the original avengers #and this is also why the ending of gravity falls or atla are the best #and also why disney live action remakes dont work

[deadmomjokes]

Hey, anyone remember back in, like, 2017/18 how I was tentatively diagnosed with fibromyalgia because of severe debilitating pain and fatigue, among other symptoms? Didn’t trust that doctor because she really just threw the term out there as an excuse to not do any testing. She threw some pills at me, refusing to refer me to a specialist because I wasn’t showing conclusive symptoms (like, that’s a reason they have specialists, to figure out the weird cases!). I quit taking those pills after several days of terrible side effects, and finding out that the pills interact with the medicine I was already taking and could have killed me.

Needless to say, I had good reason not to trust her, so I considered myself as not officially having a diagnosis because that lady was TERRIBLE.

Things got better because ???  but got worse again after having a baby (not a big shocker there). My new PCP is, like, the best doctor on the planet, and referred me to a rheumatologist asap. Unfortunately, the rheumatologist was... less than helpful. He basically told me to just exercise and lose weight, despite those being the very things I specifically told him I was having trouble doing. Beyond that oh-so-helpful advice, he shoulder shrugged me because my blood work showed no autoimmune or rheumatoid issues, and the one set of x-rays he did on my knees (only knees cuz ???) didn’t show physical damage.

Thanks, my guy. Such a good use of everyone’s time and money.

Anyway, my PCP made the professional stank face at rheumatologist and went to work on the fatigue side of things in the meantime. Tweaked meds. Ordered a sleep study-- normal. Loads of blood work-- hey, low Vitamin D and iron storage! Did 3 months pills to correct those, and just went back for a follow up.

Iron is... still low? and the vitamin D is on the super low end of “acceptable.”

But the big thing is, guess who’s back?

My old nemesis, working-diagnosis of fibromyalgia!

Doc says that given my chronically low vitamin D, my persistent fatigue, and pain without autoimmune disease or apparent joint damage (she’s still salty he only x-rayed the knees, but can’t justify full body x-rays to the insurance’s satisfaction), as well as persistent depression/anxiety that are only marginally responsive to medication, and severe brain fog/cognitive slowing, fibromyalgia is a possibility. She did the pain points test, and, uh, yeah. Basically all of them. One of them going so far as to trigger a lasting spasmodic back ache that I’m still fighting over 24 hours later.

So new antidepressant for me, but one in the same category that’s good for treating fibro, too. We’re moving forward under the assumption that fibro is a possibility. Also continuing vitamin D and iron. (Fun fact, my doctor says that her other patients with fibro seem to use vitamin D faster? more poorly? than other people, and almost all of them need heavy supplementation during the winter. She also said they tend to be more sensitive to lower levels, so we’re aiming for me to get to the high end of normal and see if that helps.)

I just find it hilarious that two doctors arrived at the same conclusion for totally different and opposite reasons.

“I can’t be bothered to do my due diligence, so I’m going to throw around a condition I clearly don’t understand and not tell you anything about it or managing it or what to look out for. Take your dx and go away.”

vs

“I went through the process of eliminating everything else first, listened empathetically, did everything bureaucracy would allow, and I think this condition fits your symptoms. Let’s operate under that theory while not risking your health, and here’s loads of info about it and things that tend to help. In the meantime, let’s see if we can trick your insurance into paying for these other tests just to be sure it’s not something else.”

Gotta love that chronic illness life, am I right?

#i trust this doctor #we picked our insurance just so we could have her as our pcp #she's the best and if she says i have fibro #i will accept it from her #because she's been sleuthing on these particular health shenanigans #for over a year #she's amazing #so i guess i have fibro now? still?

[kazeofthemagun]

Tw: negative

-_-

[I'm once again sorry for being slow. I know I shouldn't need to apologize but I want to at least give a reason. Explain, sort of. Cuz this blog is my safe space and lately I can't even write here. I can't even find the mental energy to write my favourite character because all of my energy is spent trying to mentally survive every single day.]

[Ever since I contracted Covid I've been feeling like utter shit. I can't stay awake, I feel like a fucking zombie. Ofc I have good days and bad days, but the symptoms circle back often. I've always had chronic pain and I've always been gaslighted into thinking it's all in my head. I'm so young so I shouldn't be in pain right? Bullshit. Covid long haul? I'm young I shouldn't have that. Once again it's all in my head. I'm going crazy. I had just "recovered" from GAD, OCD, hypochondria flares and family member I’m stuck with atm decided to emotionally abuse me and undo 3 years of recovery. I've been, once again, pushed to my breaking point. I'll probably regret posting this later and delete it because try as I might I begin to question myself and believe the "go outside, drink more water (I do) and it will be magically fine. Stop catastrophizing."]

[I wish I could. I wish going to the park with my dog solved the pain. I wish I could actually get help and not be shamed to hell for it. I wish I wasn't being treated like trash for having ANY moment of weakness and then facing their annoyance for failing classes at uni. I passed the year but the "old me" would never have failed anything like that. I used to have a clear mind and actual motivation and not have to battle depression every day and then seethe at not being able to study. Hell, not being able to do almost anything. I just go to sleep or draw. And now my arm suffers shooting nerve pain from drawing. Haha, in my face. I did this all to myself, apparently.]

[This place is the most peace I've had in those awful 3 years and I love it and I love writing with y'all I'm just. Tired, and trying to recover despite this emotional abuse.]

#negative tw

[red-jaebyrd]

Festering Wounds

Whumptober #16 - Hallucinations

He had finally made it back to the Cave, but something was off. Jason couldn’t quite place what was wrong, but something wasn’t right. All his senses were in high alert. He could feel his heart rate gradually start to increase and there was an odd pressure in his chest. His limbs also felt heavy and tingly.

The worst was the laughing, no cackling he could hear that no one else seemed bothered by. He scanned the Cave, but couldn’t find its source.

Jason tried to play it cool shaking off the symptoms as sleep deprivation. He just needed a cup of coffee, a few hours of sleep and he’d be right as rain. He stayed a few feet away from the group trying not to bring too much attention to himself, but the dog, Ace wouldn’t leave him alone. Ace kept following him and nosing Jason’s hands, so he obliged and kept his hand on the dog.

The family was chatting about the evening’s events, Tim was complaining about something Jason couldn’t be bothered to listen to and Dick kept asking him a question he could have sworn he had already answered.

Jason’s attention was pulled away from the group to a strange tall figure hiding in the shadows of the Cave. He could see the outline of green hair and a purple suit.

Fuck.

The figure stayed in the shadows, bringing a purple gloved hand to its mouth and it cackled. It walked into the light locking eyes with Jason. Jason gasped. Fear gripped his whole body he felt as if it had been plunged in ice.

“No, fuck no, you can’t be here.”

“What’d ya mean, Bird Boy? I never left.” Joker taunted, drumming the end of a crowbar against Jason’s temple to drive his point. “I live 24/7 in that moderately pretty screwed up head of yours.”

Joker was looming toward him patting the crowbar in his hands. Jason walked backwards and fell over his own feet. His heart pounded in his chest so hard it made it hard to breathe. He looked down to right himself and found that he was dressed in his old Robin uniform. This was so fucking wrong.

Fuck. He crab crawled away from Joker, but he wasn’t fast enough. Joker stopped him by putting a foot on chest and pressing down hard. It was a relatively easy hold Jason could get out of, but Joker was too strong. He couldn’t breathe. He was starting to lose consciousness.

It was the low chuckle that kept Jason from completely blacking out. Joker was standing over Jason twirling the crowbar in his hand like a psychotic cheerleader. Terror gripped Jason so tightly he couldn’t move.

“Batsy really scraped the bottom of the barrel when he picked you,” Joker insulted, holding the crowbar over his head ready to strike. “I guess he was hoping that street rat spunk counted for something.”

The hit across Jason’s chest sent a wave of pain throughout his body knocking the wind right out of him.

“You were ripe for the picking, my little angry bird.” Joker swung again, making contact with his stomach. “A pathetic charity case he could hand feed promises to, promises like becoming his Robin. And where did that get you?”

Joker drove his knee into Jason’s chest and leaned forward further invading his space.  

“Six feet under in a pine box…and when you died, what did he do? The Bat-stard replaced you. He didn’t really care that much about you if just replaced you with the next door neighbor. You were expendable. ANOTHER SOLDIER IN HIS CRUSADE!”

Jason tried to tune him out, ignore the taunts, and not rise to the bait. But he couldn’t fight how the words wedged their way back into his heart corrupting what little confidence he had gained in himself.

“…and when I took you away from him, he did nothing. He didn’t avenge his precious Robin, did he? No. He believed that you killing me would be far worse than letting me live. You sure showed him…oh wait.” Joker laughed, a high pitch sound that sent Jason into a wave of panic. “You didn’t. CUZ I’M STILL HERE!”

One final hit of the crowbar across Jason’s cheek made it feel like his eye might explode.

“Do you know what you are, my little angry bird? You’re nothing but a festering wound, open and slowly rotting away. And you know what happens to festering wounds if they’re not treated? They get cut off permanently.”

The frightening giggles continued to echo in his ears, but the sound was soon replaced by a loud ticking noise of the bomb.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, not again.

Jason tried to get up and head to the bomb to defuse it, but his body wouldn’t respond. His limbs felt like lead and his head was swimming. Tears streamed down his face and his breath hitched in panic. In his nightmares he had always been able to crawl and make his way to the door, but this time he couldn’t even get up. He just lay there on the floor hearing the sounds of the ticking bomb reverberating in his head.

Bruce, help me please. Please come find me. Please come. I promise I’ll be better.

The ticking finally stopped. Jason closed his eyes in relief, but when he opened them he was in total darkness, which only meant one thing. He was back in the coffin.

He could feel his surroundings pressing in on him and he couldn’t breathe. The air was thick and he was running out of oxygen. Jason had to get out, but his arms wouldn’t cooperate. There was no strength left in them break free.  Before he knew it dirt was crashing in on him crushing his chest and pressing hard on his face suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He was going to die all over again.

“Jason.”

Someone was calling his name.

“Jason, listen.”

He knew that voice.  

“Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real.”

It sounded far away, but there was no mistaking it for anything else. It was Bruce. Bruce was here? He couldn’t see him, but he could hear him.

“You made it out, son. You’re safe.”

Jason blinked and when he opened his eyes everything was hazy. Once the fog in his brain cleared, he could see Bruce’s face.

Bruce came for him.

Jason relaxed at the familiar face in front of him. He was safe because his Dad came for him.

888

From the moment they had all gotten back to the Cave, Bruce knew something was wrong with Jason. He had been showing all the classic signs of Fear Toxin exposure. Jason had been unusually quiet. No snark or casual ribbing had been directed at Tim when he complained about one of Crane’s thugs getting a good hit in.  No name calling had been directed at Dick when he had called him ‘Little Wing’, especially when Dick repeatedly kept asking Jason if he was okay. Jason just stood away from the group, eyes scanning the Cave nervously.

Everyone had dispersed as usual to the showers, changing rooms, and then upstairs. Dick had stayed behind to talk to Alfred.

Ace had noticed something was off with Jason as well. He whined a little and hung by Jason’s side until the young man noticed him. He kept nosing Jason’s hands until Jason placed a hand on his head.

Bruce had watched as Jason wandered off to a corner staring at nothing in particular. It wasn’t until Jason gasped and collapsed onto the floor, that Bruce’s suspicions were confirmed.

“Jay,” Dick shouted, running to catch Jason’s head before it hit the floor. “Jason, can you hear me?” Dick held Jason’s head in his lap. “Bruce, he’s trembling like a leaf and he’s all clammy.”

“He’s been exposed to fear toxin,” Bruce answered.

“What? How? He had his helmet on the whole time.”

Jason’s eyes were open wide with fright, but he remained perfectly still. Ace lay on top of Jason’s chest resting his big front paws on Jason’s shoulders. Ace wouldn’t move so Alfred worked around the dog to get Jason’s vitals.

“His pulse is erratic, but not in danger, not yet. Master Dick, keep talking to him,” Alfred said.

Jason didn’t appear to be thrashing or fighting to get up, but his throat was making low keening sounds and tears were running down his cheeks. Dick was doing his best to calm Jason telling him he was okay. Meanwhile, Jason’s breathing was shallow as he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Breathe, Jason. You’re okay. You’re in the Cave. Breathe for me.” Dick said calmly. “I don’t think he can hear me.”

Bruce knelt by Jason’s side taking his hand in his. “Jason, can you squeeze my hand?” No response.

“I don’t know how this happened, Bruce. I swear we all took precautions,” Dick explained. “We all had rebreathers on. Jason wasn’t even around when I caught Crane. He was with Duke and Cass stopping the distribution.”

Bruce rushed to find Jason’s helmet. He searched all over scanning for any damage. The filtration system looked intact from the inside, but as he felt over the outside of the helmet he felt a crack on the side along the cheek.

“Shit,” Bruce cursed.

“Vitals are still slightly above his baseline, Sir, but not dangerous,” Alfred said. “I’m more concerned with this breathing. Perhaps an antidote is in order?”

Bruce quickly injected Jason with an antidote, took a blood sample, and gave it to Tim so he could analyze this new strain of the toxin. None of the past toxins had ever caused paralysis. Crane typically liked to see his victims physically react and interact with their fears.  If Bruce had to guess, it appeared this one was designed to mimic sleep paralysis.

A guttural sob escaped Jason’s lips as fresh tears streamed down his face.

Bruce’s heart shattered at hearing his son make such a sound. He carded his fingers through Jason’s sweaty fringe giving reassurances he wasn’t sure Jason could hear.

“Jaylad, it’s Bruce. You’re not there. You’re here with me, in the Cave.”

Jason’s whimpering echoed throughout the Cave. He was trying to say something, but the sounds weren’t making any sense. Bruce knew Jason was likely reliving his death all over again and worst of all waking up in his coffin. Jason never discussed what happened to him when he woke up in there, and Bruce regretted not giving Jason the opportunity to talk about it.

“You’re okay, Little Wing. Bruce and I got you,” Dick sniffed, wiping his eyes. “You’re with us in the Cave. You’re safe.”

Bruce held onto Jason’s hand rubbing his thumbs in circles along the back of it hoping the contact would help to calm his son down.

The words and touch were doing very little to help calm Jason. He showed no signs that he was even actually hearing Bruce and Dick or that he even knew where he was at present. Soon he started gasping for air, which quickly led to him hyperventilating.

Alfred promptly came by Bruce’s side with the portable oxygen tank and mask. He put the mask on Jason, but Jason started to panic at having something on his face.

“Jason. Jason, listen to me. Whatever you’re seeing, it isn’t real,” Bruce said thickly. “You made it out, son. You’re safe.”

For the first time since this whole ordeal started, Jason responded to Bruce’s words. His eyes moved and briefly made contact with Bruce. Jason’s whole body slowly relaxed as he breathed in the offered oxygen. Jason’s eyes began to droop and before long he fell asleep.  

888

Once Jason fell asleep, Bruce and Dick moved him upstairs to his room so he could wake up in familiar surroundings. Dick was reluctant to leave Jason’s side, but Bruce insisted and promised he’d get him as soon as Jason woke up.

Bruce stayed with Jason all night just watching him sleep. Watching the rise and fall of this son’s chest in what Bruce hoped was a dreamless sleep. It had been awhile since Bruce had stood watch over Jason all night. He had forgotten how young Jason looked when he slept. How the moonlight erased the harsh lines and scars of experiences and hardships making his son look twelve years old again.

Bruce drank in the peaceful moment and allowed his eyes to close in sleep.

He woke up a few hours later to a hand squeezing his wrist. Jason stared at him, blinking away the sleep as he tried to wake up.

“Morning, son.”

Jason kept his head on the pillow keeping his sleepy gaze on Bruce. “What happened?”

Bruce handed him a glass of water with a straw. “Fear toxin laced with a paralytic.”

“Son of bitch,” Jason hissed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked, gently sweeping Jason’s bangs from his face.

Jason took a few sips of the water and handed the glass back to Bruce. “I’m fine.”

Bruce didn’t believe him. Jason had a habit of hiding things, especially how bad he was feeling. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree in that department. Still, if this was something Bruce could help change for the better, he would do it, starting with himself and Jason.

Bruce set the glass down on the nightstand.

“Don’t look at me like that, Old Man.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“You’re giving me your furrowed brow of judgment. I’m fine.”

Leave it to Jason to choose sarcasm and snark to deflect from the pain.

I’m not judging, you. Let’s just call it my “furrowed brow of concern”.

“Whatever.”

A familiar tension fell between them that Bruce knew all too well. It always boiled down to miscommunication between them. Bruce would say the wrong thing or nothing at all. Jason would respond defensively in anger at Bruce. It was a vicious cycle. One Bruce hoped to break, but he had to be careful. Emotions were still so raw from last night; he didn’t want to fight with Jason. Bruce knew he was skating on thin ice with what he was about to say next.

Looking at his son’s face on the verge of tears, and trying desperately to hide any show of emotion, Bruce could see that Jason was far from fine.

“It’s okay if you’re not fine, because everything that you saw and experienced last night was not fine –,”

“Bruce, please stop,” Jason pleaded, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. ”I’m f-fine.”

Bruce wouldn’t stop. He had to keep going. He had to make Jason understand that it was safe to let his guard down; so he continued.

“Alright, but just know I’m here if you don’t want to be fine.”

Jason choked back sobs. He shook his head, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

Bruce moved from the armchair to the bed and sat down. He reached over and embraced Jason in his arms rubbing small circles on his back. Jason leaned into the hug and held on tightly crying into Bruce’s shoulder.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m here to listen when you do want to talk.”

Jason nodded into his shoulder.

He didn’t need Jason to tell him what the fear toxin made him see. Bruce had a fairly good guess of the trauma the toxin had made Jason relive while under its influence. Bruce had enough experience with fear toxin throughout the years to know that its sole purpose was to unearth deep rooted fears and existing trauma the victim may have ignored or worse, repressed.

It wasn’t a surprise that Jason had buried much of his trauma from the warehouse and the events that had followed. He avoided opening up to anyone about what happened to him just as much as Bruce had avoided talking about his grief over his parents’ death. But by not acknowledging the trauma and keeping it buried, it had fueled the flame to anger and resentment.

Jason needed to talk with someone, and so did Bruce for that matter.

“It doesn’t have to be me that you talk to, but you…we need to talk to someone, okay?”

“But...”

“No buts, Jay. This is important. I don’t want you turning out like me, burying fears and pain so deep you end up cutting yourself off from those who love you and want to help you. I want things to be better for you.

“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow or next week, but it needs to be soon.”

Jason broke from the embrace, his eyes red rimmed and watery. “Will –will you come with me?”

Just like that, Jason sounded twelve years old again asking Bruce to hold his hand during a shot. Bruce melted at the simple request of his son still needing him. He placed a gentle kiss on Jason’s forehead.

“Of course, I love you, Jaylad.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

#whumptober2020 #no.16 #hallucinations #batman #fic #crowbar beating tw #fear toxin tw #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #batfic #fanfiction #dc

[this-was-not-the-best-idea]

Ticci Toby hcs

Right off the bat I feel like I should start off with saying...

Nobody calls him Ticci Toby.

I mean seriously, the name is literally based on a huge chimpanzee, there’s no way anybody actually calls him that.

I guess on missions they might call him Ticci or smth as to not say his real name but...

They don’t call him that in their day-to-day life.

Another thing that has actually confused me is that people are saying that Toby has schizophrenia and bipolar disorder...

Which isn’t really possible, really.

Here’s the thing, what people are “describing” you could say, is a whole other diagnosis.

It’s called schizoaffective disorder.

It’s a condition that in which symptoms of both psychotic and mood disorders are present together or within a two week period of each other, during one episode.

But I can’t decide which type he has.

It’s either manic, which means he has psychotic and manic symptoms in one episode.

Or depressive, where he has psicótico and deppressive symptoms during an episode.

But putting that aside, I think that he doesn’t really like his close co-workers arguing.

Sure, he doesn’t really remember anything from his life before coming to work where he is now, but i think that it doesn’t really erase the way he feels about people he feels close to arguing.

Piggybacking of of that, he also doesn’t like getting into cars.

Which, lucky for him, isn’t something he really has to do all that much.

He’s also very nice and caring to anybody that shows him human decency.

Another character that has a lot of patience.

He’s definitely pretty lanky, and he has pretty brown and curly hair,

Very fluffy and wonderful.

Of course he does have his days where he can’t really stand anything or anyone.

He normally tends to stay in his room on those days.

They are very rare though.

I like to think he’s kinda short, around 5’6”.

He really likes to garden.

He finds it calming and I also think that he’s pretty good at building small things like little fountains and ponds.

And like, he mostly gets helped by jack most of the time.

He made that pond because he wanted to atract frogs.

I really do think he loves frogs of any kinds and you can pry that hc out of my cold, dead hands.

I hope I said that right.

His favorite type cookies are fudge stripes.

Cuz they look like the stripes on his sweater.

He probably likes watching other people play video games since the last time he played them, his arm twitched upward so hard, that when it made contact with his forehead, it broke.

Nobody lets him near controllers anymore.

#ticci toby #tobias erin rogers #ticci toby headcanon #ticci toby hc #creepypasta #creepy pasta #creepypasta hc #creepypasta headcanon #headcanon #headcanons #head canon