#not even as stressed about the MRI as i normally would be

[nerdpoe]

The Disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne, and how Watcher Mystery Files solved it in one episode.

Wrote it for a warm up, freaked out because I didn't know how to end it, copped out, wrote Omegaverse instead, finished another story, circled back to this one.

Anyways this was inspired by this post right here from @thebeeswantarson

it looks like this go reblog it

Alright here we go.

When the nosebleeds had started, Tim hadn’t really thought anything of it.

He’d waved away concerned friends and family, shoved tissues (and tampons, on one memorable occasion) up his nose, and gone about his day.

Then the migraines. Oh, the migraines.

After the increased migraines, increased stomach issues, and a few fainting spells that had even Bruce cornering him and demanding he see a doctor, Tim had acquiesced.

And the result after many CATscans and MRIs?

Nothing. No tumors, no signs of disease, normal bloodwork-nothing physical was wrong.

Nothing magical, either. He’d gone to some JLD members to ensure that.

After consulting with his small team of doctors, they finally managed to pinpoint what was driving his body to rebel against itself.

Stress.

Fucking stress.

Like some sort of swooning Victorian maiden, but with all the swooning and none of the cocaine.

So.

Tim had written email to his friends and family, sent them off, and proceeded to completely detach from the world around him in his most well-kept secret bunker.

Tim knew himself, and if he maintained contact with anyone then he’d inevitably go back to working on cases and undoing the de-stressing he was attempting.

He hadn’t been sure if it would work, or if the stress of not being able to connect to the others or work on cases would make things worse, but it had. Unorthodox, yes, but it worked! He’d relaxed and caught up on sleep!

But fully rested, and also more than a little bored, he knew it was time to get back into the swing of things.

Mournfully, Tim bid his state-of-the-art bunker goodbye and started going through the multiple airlocks to get outside.

The absolute second he stepped out, though, the air rippled and Kon was immediately there.

Kon looked…disheveled.

His hair was a wreck, he only had one sleeve of his jacket on, and…were those tear tracks?

Why was Kon crying?

Fuck, had the zombie apocalypse started while he’d been away?

Tim held out his hands in a calming motion, not breaking eye contact.

“It’ll be okay Kon; we can figure out what the cure is for the Zombie Plague.” Tim didn’t actually know if he could figure it out, but he didn’t want Kon to freak out anymore than he already was.

Tim’s hands were pushed aside in favor of being swept into an all-consuming hug, and-yup. Kon absolutely was crying into his shoulder.

Tim was officially concerned.

“Is Bart okay? Is Cassie okay? Kon, who’s hurt, what happened-“

“You, Rob. You’re okay. Shut up, I’m having a moment.”

Tim was even more confused, but that was alright; his brain started working without him.

Kon was crying, and emphasizing that Tim was okay. Kon had not realized that Tim was fine, ergo Kon had not received the email Tim had sent out.

Then Tim’s brain went Tim Big Brain.

Normally, a misconception like that would have been cleared up right away by someone else with correct information. But it hadn’t been cleared up at all, and Kon was never quiet about trying to save someone.

Thus, no one had known any different to what Kon had believed. No one had known to correct the misconception that he had found himself immersed in.

Therefore, the emails had not been sent out.

…

The…emails had not been sent out.

Oh fuck him the emails had not been sent out and he went on his merry way to an unlisted bunker with soundproofing for six fucking months.

“You were supposed to receive an email,” Tim muttered, horrified, as his arms wrapped around Kon as well.

Kon snorted wetly.

“Well I didn’t, and neither did anyone else.”

“Yeah, I kinda get that now. I’m in…so much trouble.”

Kon nodded into Tim’s shoulder, smearing snot and tears into his shirt. Tim didn’t even complain.

He was too busy realizing just how badly he was in for it.

~~~~~~

Bruce could feel the conversation he was trying to have begin to turn into another fight.

Dick was insisting that Ra’s Al Ghul had to be the one who had taken Tim, and had roped Damian in on it.

The problem was that there was no real concrete evidence that Ra’s had taken Tim, and Bruce refused to let them move in without intel on, at the very minimum, where Tim could have been taken.

Dick, naturally, was not happy with that answer.

Bruce, of course, refused to lose any more of his children. Especially if it was something he could have easily prevented.

“Father, if Grandfather has Drake it is only a matter of time before irreparable damage is done. We must move quickly.”

Bruce shook his head, standing more firmly in front of his oldest and youngest.

Dick looked ready to explode.

“Get out of the way, Bruce. I’m getting Tim.” Dick’s stance was tense, and his words moreso.

Bruce had no doubt this would devolve into a physical confrontation if he did not ed-escalate.

He opened his mouth to do just that when, with a shrill beeping sound, Oracle chimed in.

“Uh, guys? I think I just found Tim.”

Bruce felt something inside of himself relax, and didn’t bother to stop Dick and Damian as they charged past him to crowd the Batcomputer.

“Oracle, report; where is he?” Was he safe? Did he need help?

“About that…”

“Babs please!” Dick begged, knuckles white from where he gripped the console.

“He’s currently outrunning the paparazzi and a literal mob of Gothamites with phones.”

Bruce…had no idea how to respond to that.

Neither did Dick, apparently.

“They’re all livestreaming, so like; tracking him isn’t an issue,” Oracle supplied, like that made things make more sense.

The screen blinked, and four separate video feeds from random Gothamites showed Tim running from them at different angles.

“…Agent A, I believe it’d be best for you to pick him up.”

All eyes were on Tim; it would be weird if Batman swooped down to retrieve him.

~~~~~~

When Tim had Kon drop him off, he had been expecting maybe a second look or two when he stepped out of that alley.

What Kon may have neglected to mention, however, was that the disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne was all anyone had been talking about for four months. There were a lot of theories, but the most prevalent happened to be the most gruesome.

Popular theory one; Bruce Wayne murdered Timothy Drake-Wayne in cold blood after Timothy made a decision with Wayne Enterprises that infuriated the man.

Popular theory two; Timothy Drake-Wayne was being held for ransom, and Bruce Wayne was refusing to pay it. Effectively, it was the same as theory one but with more steps.

Popular theory three; Timothy Drake-Wayne had been captured by Gotham’s underbelly and sold into human trafficking.

And the fourth most popular theory; Timothy Drake-Wayne was abducted by aliens.

So when Tim stepped out of that alley, it wasn’t to an occasional second glance.

It was to excited whispers and impromptu livestreaming.

Naturally, Tim bolted.

He’d outrun one mob, only to run into another one. His face was all over the internet, he knew, and there was no way Barbara hadn’t caught on.

He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, really, and made the worst mistake he could have made at that particular point in time.

He ran in front of Wayne Enterprises.

There were two guys, presumably talking about his disappearance. One was average height, the other was tall, and both were clearly not from Gotham.

He heard tiny snatches of their conversation as he got closer, pinned the California accents, and shoved past them with a half shouted apology.

“Well would’ja lookit that, Ryan; looks like it just solved itself!”

“How?!”

Tim let them fall into the background and used his new bearings to beeline for Crime Alley.

After all, only idiots would follow someone into Crime Alley.

Unfortunately, after twenty minutes Tim was forced to admit that the general populace of Gotham probably wasn’t on the scale of normal he had been depending on.

They had indeed followed him all the way into Crime Alley.

So he tried to lose them even harder.

He shoved between muggers and their victims, blew through obvious drug deals, and jumped over the tables hosting poker games so intense that the players were fingering their weapons.

Still, the crowd followed him.

Tim took three quick turns, prepared to take a fourth, and was snatched out of the street and into an old building.

The hold was meant for restraint, and Tim couldn’t break out of it without making a lot of noise, which he really didn’t want to do.

Plus, he recognized the arms latched around him and keeping him in place.

“Thanks Hood,” Tim whisper-panted.

The arms got tighter.

“Kid, do you have any idea how many ops I blew searching for you?”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Was absolutely convinced trafficker filth had gotten their hands on my kid brother,” Hood continued quietly, the mechanical rasp making his words deceptively collected, “So I went ahead and destroyed some of my only leads on the off chance that I’d find him.”

Tim felt himself start to break out in a cold sweat.

“So…you need help picking up your old trails?”

“’Help’ feels wrong. I’m owed it, Timmers.”

~~~~~~

‘Timothy Drake-Wayne Returns from the Dead!’

Tim thought that the newspapers were, quite possibly exaggerating just a little.

Just like his family was overreacting.

He was to wear at least four trackers at all times, he had to check in four times a day, he had to help Red Hood with picking back up the case load he’d all but set on fire in search of Tim, and he had to take Damian wherever their youngest wanted to go.

Apparently, the Little Demon had been so concerned that Ra’s Al Ghul had Tim that he’d started having nightmares.

And Tim wasn’t gonna lie, he felt beyond shitty for that. Well, that and everything else.

He’d also been forced to tell Bruce the location of every single one of his bunkers.

He’d sulk but…Tim also kind of felt like the worlds biggest asshole.

So.

He’d just…remember to actually hit send, not save, next time.

#batman #red robin #superboy #nightwing #red hood #watchers #ryan bergera #shane madej #brief cameo but it's there #fanfic #tim drake #kon-el #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne

[yn-barnes]

Exploring Explosions ~

Bucky x reader

: ⚠️ warnings mentions of Sharon, coma, memory loss, and brain stuff ⚠️ :

Summary - While on a mission, something happens to bucky while on the journey to recover, he fines something he wants more than life itself.

(I know I used this before, but look at him)

(And ik these and short and kinda move fast but other wise imma dragggg this out and ain't noone wants that! 😭)

Part 1

Your heals clicked and clacked as you make your way to the living room, as you entered the room Steve stood up and gave you a look of concern look then sat down when he didn't see any distress on your face. You sat in the armchair, looking at your papers, biting your lip, making sure there was nothing else you could do at this moment.

"Good news first.. bucky should make a full recovery and there's no long term damage, the rush surrounding his face will die done duo to the super serum and cream we can provide him-" you were about to get to the not so good news when a irritated voice pipes up from the back. Sharon. "Can you get on with it, like we get it you 'saved him' just tell me what's wrong with him" She states as everyone just stares at her in disbelief, you blink a few times before ignoring her statement completely.

"As I was saying, the issue is the substance sprayed in Mr Barnes' face - well, uhh - to put it simply, it would affect how and what the brain releases chemically. So far, his brain has produced more dopamine, and we have a fair guess that it could also produce more oxytocin at an alarming rate."

You got some nods of understanding, some blank faces, and some straight out confused about what's going on, you were about to explain more but you got a notification that you were needing back at medical. Excusing yourself you quickly left the room and made your way down the hall to the medical ward and started praying on the way that no one died, you cursed under your breath for being stylish and wearing your heels and not your crocs or boots.

You slip through the Automatic sliding doors and went to Barnes door scanning your card and finger, the door opened and you quickly went inside locking it behind you, confused as to why you were notified that his vitals changed drastically becuase they looked normal. Then it hit you, They shouldn't be this normal. You unhooked, then sleeping soldier and grabbed the front of his bed, pulling him to the door, unlocking it and dragging it out, yelling for help, and to get the MRI machine ready. Once he's in the machine and getting scanned, you whip out your phone to inform cap that his best friend might be a lot worse than thought to be.

Cap entered just when James was being moved from the room and was being put back. He looked for you and saw you at the desk looking puzzled by his results. Before you could even speak, he knew you would have some big words and to give it to him so simply that even thor would understand.

"The stuff he was sprayed with was so old that it took time kicking in, and now it has the body got so almost stressed it thought its best way to survive was to just go black." You said with a straight face, and Steve understood but also knew you left parts out you couldnt dumb down. "Steve.. if worse comes to worse, he could be in a coma for years.. and the best outcome is memory loss, " which hung in the air for quite some time before he just started nodding and walking around, pacing back and forth. He sat on the ground and just looked shocked and in denial.

@unaxv @sapphirebarnes

(Idk if it worked)

#bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes #1950s #tfatws #thor love and thunder #smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #iron man #steve rogers #captain america #cap #winter solider #science #sharon carter #natasha romanoff #black widow #thor odinson #thor #my fic #fiction #marvel #clint barton #the avengers #avengers #lovers

[doberbutts]

As Disability Discourse 2.0 crosses my dash yet again I am left sort of wondering where the line is.

I am physically disabled. I am also neurodivergent. I do not consider myself mentally ill but I know that there are people out there with my exact diagnoses that do consider themselves mentally ill.

I have a brain injury. You can point to it on an MRI. I have the images to prove it. I had to re-teach myself how to speak. Those weird typos I have sometimes? Yeah my brain just reads letters wrong and sometimes spits out the wrong word or tense or grammatical structure sorry, that’s what happens when your brain gets shaken around in your head like a maraca following a serious car accident. I have a permanent tremor in my right hand and arm which results in me being incapable of fine motor control when having a flare. I am photosensitive and relatively intolerant of stress. I knocked an eye loose and was thankfully able to keep it but occasionally need to cover it or else it feels like someone is stabbing me directly in the brain when there is literally any light or movement whatsoever.

Did you know that over 30% of people who survive TBIs debate and even attempt to kill themselves within the first year? It’s still a bit unresearched but many neurologists believe it’s because many survivors have a hard time adjusting to their new normal when it feels like they have lost all control over themselves. I did not get that bad but I had many meltdowns where I would sob uncontrollably because it was all just Too Much, and the knowledge that it would be Too Much, Forever was curse over comfort.

Is that a mental or a physical disability? A part of my brain is damaged, like a scar. It is entirely neurological and mental in its symptoms.

I was diagnosed with a different brain condition, one that affects the autonomic nerve within my brain, causing fainting episodes, out-of-control mast cells, horrific digestive problems, and joints that bend a little too much. Average quality of life after diagnosis is roughly equivalent to someone with end stage heart failure.

A part of my brain is faulty and always has been. It is entirely physical in its symptoms. Is this a mental or physical disability?

My knee hurts. I was knocked off my bike one day on my way home from college. It was a hit-and-run driver and I didn’t have the money or the insurance to do more than slap a brace on it and limp around for several weeks while it healed. Less than a decade later it gave out. I was completely unable to walk for months. I lost my job. I ended up switching careers entirely so I could sit. I walk with a cane. I have to physically drag myself up stairs with my arms and my “good” leg. I spend nights grasping at my knee willing it to stop spasming as I try to get some sleep. I’ve had to beg for painkillers. Surgery will not help it. My knee is Completely Fucked, Forever.

This is a clear physical disability, that much is for sure.

I recently went to see Spiderverse. I warned my friend that it was entirely possible I’d need to duck out at some point because the movie would overwhelm me. I also warned her that I would probably need to immediately rest or go home and would not be able to hang out because I was anticipating it to be Sensory Hell. I went in prepared with my own snacks, tinted glasses to take the edge off the flashing, and even looked away during some of the worst of it.

I needed to duck out after an extended chase scene which featured a lot of flashing lights. I was able to come back and finish the movie. I needed nearly an hour of rest to stop shaking and be safe to drive myself home. I immediately went to bed upon getting home at about 4pm and by the time it was night had a pounding headache and shivers. I knew this would probably happen because the first one was very bad for my brain injury and I’d been pre-warned the second one was worse about it- truly I think it is really those movies’ biggest flaws is that they are very not friendly to people with problems with bright flashing lights.

My knee did not prevent me from entering the building. The theater was wheelchair accessible.

But even with sensory provisions, my brain injury and faulty nerve made it a monumental task to just finish a two and a half hour task of literally just sitting there.

I could go in. Staying was the part that was in question.

[avengerscompound]

The Recruit - 30. You

The Recruit - An Avengers Fanfiction

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Word Count: 2656

Warnings: smut (MMFF bisexual threesome.  Vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, overstimulation)

Synopsis:  When Sam Wilson is set up on a blind date, he doesn’t expect anything to come from it.  He is already in a relationship after all, and not just with one other person, but a whole group of them. You never expected to end up working for the Avengers let alone be dating six of them at the same time.  Now you’re balancing a new job, a new romance, new friends, and a secret that could destroy a lot of lives if it got out.  It’s a tricky balance to get right at the best of times, but when something happens to Steve Rogers it’s up to the people who love him most to get him back.

30. You

There was a heavy and rapid thud in your ears as you made your way down the hall to Steve’s apartment.  Each step you took was nervous and light, like you were tiptoeing down there, terrified you were going to get caught.  There was no rational reason to think you were doing anything wrong.  Steve was your boyfriend and it had been agreed upon that you would go see him this morning.  It was just, with the pressure of having to be the one that spoke to Steve about getting an MRI was starting to stress you out.

There wasn’t even a discernible reason why you were so nervous to do it.  It wasn’t like you were going in there to attack him and you’d been there when he’d completely lost control.  You weren’t telling him he couldn’t work.  You were just worried about him.  Even though you hadn’t known Steve at all before his kidnapping, you knew even a couple of months ago this would have been no big deal.  Maybe he would have tried to reassure everyone that he was fine, but he wouldn’t get upset about it.

Now?  Who could say?  His mood was volatile and he’d shown that that temper could translate into violence.  You were sure he wouldn’t be violent to any of you, but that didn’t mean he would take it well.

You reached the door and took a breath before knocking.

It took a moment before the door was pulled open, and rather than Steve, you came face to face with Sharon.  She was still in her nightgown, a short satin number in pale gray with cherry blossom branches printed on it, and a white satin robe that was hanging open.

“Hey, babe,” she said and kissed your cheek, opening the door to let you in.  “You’re up and around early.”

“I wanted to catch Steve before he went for a run,” you said.

She laughed,  “You would normally have had to get up a lot earlier to do that,” she said. “That man is pathological.  He’s usually out there before the sun. But, we managed to convince him to stay in today.  You know -” she lowered her voice to a near whisper - “after what happened.  Is that why you’re here?”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that,” you said as she closed the door behind you.

She took your hand and looked into your eyes. “How are you doing?”

You shrugged.  “I’m okay.  It was pretty scary seeing him like that, but I’m used to combat.  I’m just worried about Steve.”

“I think we all are,” she whispered.  She shook herself off and gestured down to the bedroom.  “We haven’t gotten up yet, so he’s down there.  We were just thinking about ordering breakfast.”

She led you down to the bedroom.  The door was ajar and both Steve and Bucky were lying in the king-sized bed.  The blankets were a complete mess, most of them hanging on the floor, and the very corner was hanging off Bucky’s ankle.  Bucky was laying on his stomach with his arm draped over Steve’s thighs and his head on his stomach, while Steve sat up against the bed head, his fingers moving back and forth through Bucky’s hair.  The sight of them both was both a relief and a turn-on.

Steve smiled when you entered.  It was a hungry smile like your presence had unlocked a whole door of sexual potential for him.  “Hey, sweetheart,” he said.  “What are you doing here?”

Bucky raised his head to look at you.  “Hey, darlin’,” he said, his smile much softer and more welcoming.

“It’s Sunday,” you said.  “I thought I’d come and hang out.”

Steve raised an eyebrow as he looked you over.  “You’re wearing way too much clothing to hang out where we are,” he said.

You laughed and shook your head.  This might get Steve into a better mood, but you didn’t want to comply straight away.  “Oh really?” you said.  “This has a maximum clothing limit?”

“Mm-hmm,” Steve said. “That number is none.”

“But Sharon has clothes on,” you argued.

“She needs to take them off too,” Steve said.  “Maybe the two of you can help each other out.”

You turned and looked at Sharon, she was wearing the same bemused expression you were and the two of you burst into laughter.  Sharon looked back over at Steve.  “If you want us to put on a strip show for you, you could at least ask nicely,” Sharon said.

Steve looked her up and down, his tongue grazing over his bottom lip.  It looked like he was weighing up all his options right now.  Sharon folded her arms and raised her eyebrow at him.  Bucky rolled and looked up at you both with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. “Please.  I wanna see you do a strip show.”

You and Sharon stifled laughter again.  She looked over at you, her eyebrow still raised quizzically.  You shrugged.  “I’m okay with it.”

“Who can say no to that face,” she agreed.  “FRIDAY, a little music please.”

‘Slow Like Honey’ by Fiona Apple started up. The slow jazz piano started up and you and Sharon began to dance.  It was an interesting choice, slow and sensual, but better suited to a romantic slow dance than a strip tease.

You and Sharon turned to face each other, you were so close, that you could feel the heat of her body radiating off her.  The two of you began to move together, slowly swaying your hips so you were mirroring each other.  You rested your forehead against hers and slid your hands around her waist, pushing the robe back.

Sharon’s hands moved up under your shirt, pushing it up and exposing your skin to Bucky and Steve.  Your hands moved to her shoulders and you began to slide her robe off, never breaking the kiss.  It was slow and deep, matching the rhythm of the music.  You lost yourself in it, Steve and Bucky may as well not have been there at all as Sharon’s hands moved up, bunching your shirt up with it.

You broke the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt up over your head and immediately you were kissing again as the fabric fluttered to the floor.  Each swivel of your hips, each touch, each fast of her skin, added to the feeling that this was just the two of you locked in a sensual dance and not a show.

Your bra was the next to go, slithering off your arms and onto the floor.  You moved to her nightgown next, sliding your hands over the slippery surface of the fabric before you pushed the straps down, your palms ghosting down her arms in their wake.  She rolled her hips slowly as the fabric caught and it slipped free and fell to the ground around her feet.

Sharon stepped out of the pool of clothing around her feet and danced around you, her hands ghosting over your skin as she moved in behind you, pressing her body against yours.  Her breath was hot against your neck and you leaned your head back and ran your hands down your body, sliding them down to your pants.  You unfastened the fly and Sharon slowly pushed them and your panties down as you swayed your hips from side to side.

Steve and Bucky were watching on completely wrapped in the performance.  They were both sitting up, leaning forward slightly, their hands wrapped around their cocks and pumping them slowly.  Steve’s eyes were so blown out with lust they almost looked pitch black.  Bucky moved forward and offered you his hand.  “Come here,” he said.

You took his hand, and let him pull you away from Sharon and into his lap.  You straddled him and pushed your hands into his hair as he pulled you down into a passionate kiss.  As the two of you kissed, Sharon crawled up the bed to Steve.

You positioned yourself on Bucky’s lap so his cock sat snug between the lips of your pussy and you started to grind on his shaft the way you might if you were riding your vibrator.  You moaned as your slick coated his cock. You were already worked up from the strip teased, you were already soaking, so each roll of your hips was sending shivers running right through you.  The head of his cock was rubbing on your clit just right and you jerked your hips quickly trying to bring yourself right to the edge.

Beside you, Steve had pushed Sharon onto her back and was fucking her roughly with two fingers as he held her hands pinned over her head.  She moaned and writhed under him and you wondered if she was going to reach her first orgasm before anyone else was even close. 

Bucky flipped you over suddenly, so you were on your back and he was on top of you.  He looked down into your eyes with a smile. “God, I want to be inside you so bad,” he said as he continued to rub his cock against your pussy.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked.

He kissed you passionately and pulled your legs up so they were pressed against his sides.  When he broke the kiss he got up on his knees, put your legs on his shoulders, and thrust hard into you.

You cried out and arched your back, grabbing his wrists as he thrust into you.  “Fuck, Bucky,” you moaned.  “You’re so big.”

“Mmm… but look at you, you take it so well,” he praised.

Steve picked up Sharon and put her on all fours so she was over your face.  He got on his knees behind her and you watched as his cock shoved deep into her.  Sharon cried out and braced her hands on the blankets by your head as Steve started thrusting into her at an almost brutal pace.  You leaned up and began to suckle on her clit and she let out such a loud moan, that it drowned out almost every other sound in the room.

Bucky grabbed your hips and dragged you around so you were in line with Sharon.  It seemed to take her a moment to realize what had happened, but when it seemed to click into place she braced her hand on your thigh and dropped her head down and started licking at your clit.

The world outside completely disappeared.  Any concerns or worries you might have had about fitting in, juggling your relationship with work, coming out, or Steve were pushed out of your head and you were reduced down to this pinprick of a moment where pleasure swirled through you, overwhelming all your senses.

The room echoed with the sounds of body slapping against body, moans, grunts, and gasps of pleasure.  The scent of Sharon’s arousal filled your nose as your tongue was coated with her slick with each lap of your tongue.  You were transfixed at the sight of Steve’s cock stretching Sharon out above you as he pounded into you.  Yet even as all those senses were being battered they were completely dwarfed by the feeling of Sharon’s lips tugging on your clit as Bucky plunged his cock into again and again.

You were sent hurtling to the precipice of your orgasm and sent careening over just as fast, your whole body stiffening under Sharon as it tore through you.  It left you dazed for a moment, just staring ahead blankly as Bucky used you and you watched the mirrored movement of Steve’s cock slamming into Sharon above your face.  As soon as you leaned up and pulled her clit back into your mouth, Sharon’s orgasm hit too.  Your face was showered in her slick as Steve shoved in deep, sending droplets out in a fine spray.  Sharon cried out loudly and her fingers dug into your thigh.

Neither Steve nor Bucky were even close to being done with either of you.  They both began to fuck you harder, the sounds now becoming wetter and sharper as they thrust their hips.  You and Sharon came again and again until you weren’t sure where one orgasm ended and the next began.  You and Sharon both stopped even being able to use your mouths on each other.  You fell back, your eyes rolling back into your head as Sharon let her head rest on your thigh.  Each time you or Sharon came, Bucky and Steve picked up the pace so they were just railing into you both, sending jolt after jolt spiking through your bodies.

All sense of time had been lost on you and you just started to beg, chanting the word ‘please,’ over and over.

Bucky’s orgasm hit first, he thrust hard into you, grinding his hips as he released inside of you.  You were so swollen and sensitive that you could feel each pulse of his cock as he filled you.

Steve wasn’t too far behind, he pulled out of Sharon, sending another spray of her juices over your face, and with three pumps of his cock he released, thick ropes of come splattering on Sharon’s pussy, and your face and breasts.

“Fuck…” he groaned and flopped back onto the bed, breathing heavily.  Bucky helped you and Sharon move before he lay down himself and the four of you just lay there panting, completely and utterly fucked out.

You weren’t sure how long the four of you just lay there riding out your respective orgasm highs, but it was Bucky that got up first.  He went to the bathroom and returned with a couple of damp washcloths, and began to clean both you and Sharon up.  Steve grabbed his phone from the nightstand and looked at the three of you.  “Breakfast?” he asked.

When the food had arrived and the four of you were set up, using Steve’s bed as if it was a picnic rug, you decided to broach the topic of Steve having an MRI and CT scan.

“Steve, about what happened on the mission…” you said.

Steve sighed and picked up his coffee. “I know… I wasn’t myself.  I’m working on it.” 

“Well,” you said, trying to keep your tone gentle.  “About that part.  Maybe you should get a scan.  You know, an MRI or a CT, or both?  You said that they did something to you.  Maybe it’ll show up.”

“I’m sure it’s just trauma,” he said.  “I’m seeing the therapist.”

Sharon sat up and put her hand on his arm and seemed to be very careful about each word she chose. “You did say they did something to you,” she said.  “That they put something into your eye.  An MRI couldn’t hurt.  Maybe you should have one to rule it out.”

His brows knitted together and his jaw clenched tight, twitching at the corner.  “Have you all been plotting this behind my back?  I must be really bad, huh?  I can’t even deal with my trauma the way I want.”

“It hasn’t been like that,” Bucky said.  “We haven’t been planning anything.  But we are all worried about you.  This is a good idea. In the worst-case scenario, they find nothing and you just have to sit in a tube for a bit.  I used to be in tubes all the time.  Best case and they do find something and we do something about it.”

Steve huffed out through his nose.  “Fine,” he said. “Tomorrow.  Is that okay with all of you?  That I just have one day without people poking and prodding at me?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Sharon said.  “I’ll let the medbay know what’s going on.”

Everyone fell silent for a little while before returning to eating and chatting like nothing had happened.  It was clear that Steve was still angry about the idea, and you hoped that he’d actually go.

// NEXT

#avengers #marvel #avengers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #sharon carter #natasha romanoff #clint barton #avengers fanfic #clint barton x bucky barnes x sharon carter x steve rogers x natasha romanoff x sam wilson x reader #reader insert #smut #polyamory #fanfic #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #sharon carter x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x reader #the recruit

[saintsenara]

for 16 of the very normal asks, rather than an illicit substance, write them a prescription, suggest a course of treatment, or give them a referral

screaming! thank you very much for this cunningly-adapted question from the very normal fic writer ask game, anon!

16 [asenora's version]. write each of your fics (or a selection of them) a prescription, course of treatment, or referral to a specialist

well. let's do this for my main multi-chapter wips. plus a couple of extras. for fun.

---

the plot of one year in every ten hinges on harry displaying a run of extremely reckless behaviour - which builds on symptoms evident since his childhood such as impulsivity, fidgeting, hyperfocus, difficulty concentrating on tasks he finds uninteresting, irritability, and so on.

all of which is to say... he's clearly got attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. 50mg lisdexamfetamine every morning.

---

voldemort - at least as we see him in scylla and charybdis - isn't going to bother following up with a psychiatrist [which i doubt any psychiatrist considers a great loss] and so nothing is going to be done about the extremely sinister manifestations of his complex post-traumatic stress disorder [which looks, if you're so inclined, quite a lot like antisocial personality disorder... often known as sociopathy].

he might want to go and have his atrial fibrillation looked at though - even if his canonical fear of doctors isn't going to make him the easiest person to give an ecg...

[and, as always, it probably wouldn't hurt him - or snape - to go and see a priest...]

---

sirius in the war of the roses has a leg injury i'm keeping obscure as a future plot-point for now. he also has a kidney infection - luckily he hasn't died in the department of mysteries so he can lie on the sofa feeling sorry for himself until his course of antibiotics is done.

lupin won't visit him once.

---

the titular subluxation is probably going to need surgery, i fear - especially because rodolphus won't give up brandishing his wand at people he'd like to kill, which is aggravating the injury.

i'm not sure how such an avowed blood-supremacist would feel about muggle inventions such as x-rays or mri scans, though. he's struggling through with his sling and his pain relief potions, like thousands of stubborn idiots before him.

all percy needs is a backbone, but you can't get those on the nhs yet.

---

a caesarian section from someone who actually knows what they're doing comes too late for merope in the shack at the end of the lane, but hopefully she's able to heal from her birth trauma and smack dumbledore in the face for blaming her for her own death in the afterlife.

---

i am invested in the headcanon that walburga black suffered from post-natal depression - as seen in lamentation and nor all that glisters gold - and i think that antidepressants and a series of sessions with someone who [very much unlike orion] actually listens to her would work wonders.

---

and poor wee tom is wracked by scarlet fever in the velveteen rabbit. this is easily treatable nowadays with antibiotics. in the 1930s, the doctor who visits the orphanage [and decides to charge a pretty penny for it] can only advise mrs cole to wait and see whether he pops his clogs in the night.

i'm not saying that - had he gone through childhood in the post-penicillin age - tom would have had less of a thing about death... but i'm also not not saying that...

[other answers from this ask game]

#asks answered #very normal fic writer asks #enjoyed this far more than i should

[house-of-mirrors]

@vonlipvig answering on this blog!

4. How easy is it to earn their trust?

Answered here for Orsinio but I'll talk about Samuel! He trusts everyone until he doesn't, and he mistrusts everyone until he does. "Well yes, but actually no." You understand. No one is barred entry from his bar, but if you cause problems, you get physically removed, no strong feelings, simple as that.

15. How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

Orsinio is talkative and impulsive, inclined to speak without thinking first. He can come up with words quickly on the fly, exhibiting a cleverness in arguments and verbal fights. If he has a more serious emotional thing to talk about, he plans out a scripted response but rarely actually winds up using it before breaking to a more spur of the moment thing. When he's stressed, it's common for him to lose speech, so sometimes he does not talk at all. A quiet O means there has been devastation.

Similarly, a Samuel who is talking means there has been even more devastation. Normally, Samuel tries to say as little as possible, unless he's telling a story, and he never phrases anything as a question.

20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

I, the author, struggle to explain the difference

Well, almost none of my ocs experience romantic love! Lucretia is the only one that does and is still demiromantic. Aro spectrum for the win.

40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

Orsinio is almost always introspecting. He's gotten better with time but still will dwell on mistakes or times he could have done or said or felt something better. He can have a black and white approach to morality at times. Obsesses over things and knows when he's in too deep but can't stop. Considers mental health issues to be a flaw because of the time period and blames it on "a weak constitution." Has a hard time letting people help. Orsinio is very hard on himself. Flaws he forgives in others are not forgiven in himself. He's really trying to get better though, especially since not studying the discordance and getting a handle on the grief process after nemesis. The Neath doesn't have therapy but does have cosmic horror vibe checks.

D. Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

When I first started playing, Orsinio used to have brown hair. He wore goggles everywhere and then his design got spectacles for outside the lab. I imagined him in adventurous gear, like belts and pouches and things, before switching to the more elegant outfits of the late 19th century, though he's always had a cloak. It was part of his character arc when he got a cane, when he got white streaks in his hair, and when he started to dress in heavier layers. In the future, he'll get a beard, and as he recovers from trauma will gain some weight. I've been seriously struggling with health since I started playing in 2020 so there's a bit of projection there but yeah. He deserves healing. Dilf Orsinio is endgame.

Everyone else has pretty much stayed the same! Orsinio was my first when I didn't know a lot about the game or how I wanted to roleplay, so he went through the most changes.

E. Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

We would be able to relate on disabilities and love for literature and music, but I'm not sure we would be able to get on more than that. Orsinio would annoy me with his lack of self awareness and reluctance to get help. I have self preservation instincts. We can both be stubborn and inflexible in thinking at times. If we were just meeting for an afternoon in a coffee shop, sure we'd get along. A passionate discussion about Shakespeare and astrophysics, and then I tell him about the marvels of the MRI.

Miles is a no, absolutely not. Ignoring all the robber baron things and dark magic, they have a social media influencer personality. They would dislike me for shopping at thrift stores and I'd make them wash one dish and they'd cry.

Samuel yes, totally. I sit at the bar and talk for an hour while he nods and provides interesting drink recipes. Great time.

Captain Min, sure, I'll be a space adventure story side character and can be very useful doing ledgers and maps

Lucretia is one I'm not sure how to answer. We're both pretty reserved. I think I could have a friendship with her like I have with some of my friends from grad school who are >25 years older than me. Pleasant and encouraging on both sides with a strong awareness of me being young for her to be my parent slakdsfdls

#thanks for the ask #oc: orsinio #oc: samuel #<3 #oc: miles #oc: lucretia #oc: the captain #new oc tags

[c3p-mo]

.

so I most likely have MS

It could be just something else wrong with my brain or spinal cord still can't be properly seen until late Jan, probably can't get the MRI until Feb but the current symptoms and ones from previous years add up to been having it

optic neuritis and uhthoff’s syndrome is the name for what I've been dealing with since July and it's only now somewhat getting 'better'. I can see much better for much longer but still have blindness nonstop and the daily headaches. For the last two weeks I couldn't be on a phone or see a screen for longer than 5 mins without pain and nonstop flashes. Can't even read too long or my eyes just stop functioning. It's a strange thing to experience. And it's the usual first sign of MS.

I also had a small bad fall last month and it was bad enough that I have a complete ACL tear, so surgery is pending. Seeing the doc about it hopefully soon to gauge time frame

I spent all of November on the couch cuz I can't walk and see properly. I really couldn't do anything but it kinda helped in a way. I'm spitballing that one of my "most likely is MS" triggers is stress, so once my partner came back and I'm not physically alone anymore I withdrew from... everything really.

Logged out of everything, muted and disabled anything with a notification, friends unfortunately (whichever ones I think I have left). But in general I really needed to hit pause, questionable that this was a way to go about it but I do feel less stressed a bit. I mean I have to be slow atm with my leg, it literally hurts to try and play games/be on PC and phone, also too broke to do anything but checkout books at the library(which I like to do anyways) so can't do much; my vision has definitely improved better in the last few weeks than the last four months so tiny lining? I'm honestly only here now cuz I 1. forgot insomnia meds and 2. can watch a stream and touch a keyboard without a painful headache after so long and 3. Can actually SEE

I'm rambling at this point and only for myself really. I just finally feel like myself again for the first time in a very long and newest personal lowest year in my life. I'm so exhausted that I can't even bother with wanting to die atm. Almost funny that my brain is trying to do that for me anyways lol. But I know this one normal moment is brief. i think my headspace will be much better as my appt gets closer and i might get back to my online presence with it but for now I'm still thinking about staying off things help.

I am still very tired of trying to be 'normal' and of trying to function through it all. I'm tired of deteriorating every passing year and masking all the chronic pain with no valid name but now I'm closer to some proper and correct reason for it all. At the very least I can get handicap parking privilege and a true medical weed pass. Maybe an eyepatch would look good on me? Using mobility aids with less guilt? Idk

comforting prospects in hard times

#its not the usual this time i swear #just straight up ramble cuz i cant sleep atm #going back to the shadowrealm afterwards lol

[betzabobababi]

Broken Tom Holland x Reader

Chapter 3: Diagnosis

jtlyk there are gonna have a flashback through out the story :)

Warning: swearing

Plot: Y/n and Tom were made for each other and have been married for nearly 10 years but what happens when they go through putrid rough patch?

Summary: Y/n goes to the doctor (flashback)

AUTHOR'S POV

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have spoken to you like that" you said trying to calm your nerves from your sudden outburst, but he was making this so fucking hard. You had absolutely every right to be livid at him, he made you move from your comfortable lodge to the apartment near the studio. It wasn't bad but the fact that you spent almost all of the 3 months alone, isolated, made your blood boil, especially in your condition.

"No. No your right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you feel this way. I'm sorry that you are alone and I'm sorry that I spend way too much time at work. I'm sorry for everything. If I could go back in time and redo everything I would. But we can't. So from now on I will try my best to be at home. I'll try my best to treat you like the queen you are. Because you are my queen."

You were stunned. You didn't know how Tom would react but you definitely didn't expect him to react like...that. Moreover you were happy. You knew that he meant what he said. You knew he would try his best. You also knew that if you told him your secret now, everything would be ruined. But you knew you had to tell him. You knew that this wasn't going to go away anytime soon. This was something serious and the only way to get through this would be if you had Tom there to support you.

*Time skip*

AUTHORS POV

You and Tom went back to the loft happy and content about the progress that you had made with your relationship. Atleast that's what it seemed to him. He didn't know but you were slowly and painfully dying. You were a relatively active person. You had played volleyball in high-school and college. Even though you were very good at the sport you never pursued it as a career. So when you noticed the lack of energy you had, and how it had become painful to do your everyday exercise activities, you instantly knew something was wrong. You brushed it off at the beginning thinking it was the amount of stress you had or the lonleyness, but after a few days of not being able to move due to how swollen your knees and ankles were, you booked a doctors appointment. You had many tests done and even had a few MRI's done.

FLASHBACK

Y/N'S POV

I was sitting in the doctor's office, highly nervous and it was clearly visible. Despite the pain, my knees kept bounding up and down. I was worried, I didn't know what was going to happen. The one person I really needed right now was at work. Tom. It had always been Tom. He was there when I got the phone call from the hospital, saying that my mom was in the hospital. As soon as I had gotten that phone call I broke down. Tom was there for me. He was there for me when my mom died. He was there for me after my dad committed suicide. But where was he now? He sure as hell wasn't here. My doctor entered the room with a gloomy and disappointment expression.

AUTHORS POV

The doctor sighed, disappointed in the results of the MRI.

"Mrs. Holland, I'm sorry but the MRI has shown you have a cancerous tumor in your bone marrow. Normally a person who is diagnosed with bone cancer has the life expectancy of five years, but the tumor you have has slowly been progressing throughout your body. I'm surprised we weren't able to notice it before, but you have approximately 9 months left to live. It could be more it could be less, but at the rate your cancer is spreading it will be around 9 months."

Y/N POV

I was speechless. I had just found out that I had a cancerous tumor in my bone marrow. I. Had. Fucking. Cancer.

"Is there a cure?" I said while trying to do a million things in my head. I need to tell tom. I need to tell Nicki and Dom. I need to tell my friends. I have to get the funeral planned. I gotta do this I gotta do that. My brain was going 175 miles per minute.

"Fortunatley there is, we can do chemotherapy or we can do the medical procedures to separate the maintining tumor from your bones. Although the chemotherapy would take longer it is the most efficient. It is costly but your insurance should be able to pay for it. Try not to be stressed during the next fue months. The chemotherapy has a 35% chance of killing all of the cancer. Now as you can see there is a very low probability so I suggest you get your affairs in order just in case it doesn't work" the way the doctor gave me hope and then demolished it with the probability of chemo helping me out was so heartbreaking. I knew that if the cancer did end up killing me I needed to tell Tom but how? He was never home. I need to tell him.

END OF FLASHBACK

AH AH AH tehe please don't hate me this might seem a bit cliche or cringe but nevertheless this chapter was a fucking emotional load. It took me a lot of time to decide what type of cancer Y/n would have but in the end I decided on bone cancer bc my best friend died of bone cancer and I thought why not? Anyways ANY feedback is appreciated!

Have a Good Day or Night Wherever You Are! <3

#tom holland #y/n y/l/n #tom holland x reader #y/n #cancer #bone cancer #diagnosed #chemo #bestfriend #bfff #rest in piece #Tommy baby

[robo-milky]

[Vent: This will be my last update about my wrists! Thank you for those who took the time to read and/or sent “get-well-soon”s- It does mean a lot! Anything relating to more personal issues can be very taxing to read or “not what I signed up for” and that’s perfectly valid!! In the end, we are strangers on the web ^^ Feels like the more I post updates or anything— it feels very attention seeking— so I want to make this a good send off. I might update/edit the log if anything comes up.]

A little bit about why the sudden change in art style

Acknowledgements: There are bigger issues in the world, there are threatening crises and positions people face that could be physically/and or emotionally damaging. My condition isn’t chronic, but for those who have do have life-long issues— my heart really goes out to them; I’ve only been through the tip of the iceberg of what they might have been through.

It’s hypocritical of me to make posts about having to recover/exhausting myself from writing/drawing, yet I still draw anyways. I guess I wanted to end this off comically— making silly memes or inside jokes with friends definitely lifted my mood. (Edit: I can’t type (on a keyboard)/write, but you know what I can do? Text.)

Having to do art in school and outside is not great for recovery (if I want both my wrists back to normal) but I compulsively draw anyways- I think it’s probably because I’m aiming for an art school, I’m scared of ever stopping and getting rusty with art again. While it’s true that a lot of art is really boiled down to how well you can break down concepts and memorizing the technical knowledge, it took me years to finally develop a hand that could draw clean lines and hold things steadily.

Compared to Summer 2022, I definitely recovered much more and made a lot of progress. I didn’t have to eat painkillers every single day, I didn’t have to rely on wrist splints, I can hold a half-filled mug with one hand, and so much more. I’d say the conditions of my wrists is tolerable; it still hinders me when I try to open doorknobs, but I’ll take whatever accomplishments I can get.

It wasn’t until finally seeing a physiotherapist, after god knows how long (Please- I grew up in a traditionally Chinese family that doesn’t believe in western medicines ;;), I was diagnosed with early osteoarthritis on my left wrist. Even though only one wrist is diagnosed, I have difficulties moving both my wrists, and according to my X-ray back in September 2022, the bones in both my wrist have narrowed from a lack of use. I’m kinda baffled because you’d think it’d be my dominant hand, the hand I use everyday and stress out, would be diagnosed. I’m told that I’ll need an MRI for my left, so hopefully nothing goes too wrong.

I love drawing, fanart or original— for myself or others. I don’t think it’s something I can ever stop? Maybe I’ve gotten on a high now that I’ve recovered bit by bit, and having gotten out of art block for months helped too. I can’t help but feel like part of my art block is because of my wrists. Even when my wrists were not as bad, I still couldn’t find the motivation to do line art. Maybe my current development in art isn’t actually laziness but just how my wrists have subconsciously been affecting my performance. When I looked back on my old art, I truly loved line art, rendering, having to press hard with pencil crayons to blend, oil pastels— I really did enjoy them.

If I ever drew gifts/requests/others for you, I want to say that I opened them because I wanted to— I knew what I was signing up for. Heck— when I did them— I did them on a good day.

* Am I ever going to take a break? I’ll be honest- probably not. Plus- the watercolour mimic style let’s me draw looser lines and with the colouring? I don’t have to worry about pen pressure or pressing hard- But I’ll try?? I might try to see if I can dig up any older art of mine that still holds up to my standards.

With school, I always feel like I have to take on extra jobs and volunteer to help out in areas that are within my field. I’ve also contemplated telling or broadcasting my needs to others because I’m always scared they’ll think I’m “being dramatic” or “faking it”. I’m also scared that the one time I ask for help to do a “simple” task, my peers will start questioning my recovery. I can’t describe how shameful it feels to not be able to help out a friend if they want to move a desk or even with chores. Maybe it’s me self projecting, but I always feel like if I can’t help someone, I’d be selfish.

Since I can never truly articulate my experiences and thoughts in person (cause I’d forget details or cut out too much because I feel rushed), I’ll be using this to send out ^^

If you *actually* read all of this- thank you and please don’t think too much of it! I don’t want this post to be the reason someone’s mood gets drained— so I drew the cat maid instead of putting my usual reaction images. I hope my attempt at humour came through?? But at what cost…

#my art #meowing 🌸 #vent art #vent #personal vent #cw vent #vent post

[rabbitindisguise]

it's late but I'm getting all worked up before bed because I had weird test results and they just didn't do anything!!!!!!!!!! not even a "everything looks normal" just "weird weird okay I'm leaving" sometimes even leaving the room before I could be like "Wait hold up"

frankly I think it's probably wise to ask for someone to go to an appointment with me to quickly get all the referrals I need and tests done that make sense given my symptoms but it's a bit short notice for an agency for patient representatives (who mostly get second opinions, and I'd need to figure out insurance for that) and everyone else has like School or Work and stuff

and like I'm mad enough about this stuff that I can do some self advocacy running off of pure anger but 1) I don't want to sabotage the somewhat decent relationships I have with my doctors and 2) as much as I joke that this is my full time job I'm seriously underqualified and it's stressful as hell when I'm alone in a room with a person who basically has my life in their hands. I was mostly adjusting to the idea that if there was a problem someone would do something, but ever since the seriously concerning bloodwork has come back I haven't heard a peep. It's like they think because I'm up and talking I'm somehow healthy as if I haven't personally done a hip reduction multiple times by myself- because they don't believe it ever happened, though even when presented with test results they don't seem to wake up until you repeatedly shake them into sense

Therapists have a lot of problems and the patient/therapist relationship has the thorny bit where they can have you institutionalized against your will, but doctors can both do that AND cause problems through negligence. I have more self respect from therapists than I ever will from how I get treated by doctors because they are capable of treating people like equals.

And like I can't do my best work when I'm like physically a mess because I acted on the advice they gave me and I can't hold anyone responsible for it without going through the effort I should be saving for repairing my health. People ignore me when I basically present my symptoms on a silver platter and don't do anything when I tell them to do stuff that they assume I don't want. It's infuriating.

It's also really frustrating watching people go through their own health struggles and feeling like I'm helpless and giving the wrong advice. I feel like my answer should always be to fight it every step until you're sure it's fine but money is Such an issue and also going to so many appointments can cause problems that are nebulous and unclear, hospital to hospital, system to system. I have no idea how to correctly go to the doctor or if there even is such a thing! People have been giving me advice but there is no fix, I'm never seeing the same person, I'm shuffled off from one person to the next and they won't even agree that I'm disabled to sign my forms one entire year later and I did all the things I'm supposed to the letter

I'm doing my stool sample tomorrow and calling to schedule more appointments. I'm messaging my neurologist to follow up on cluster headaches and an MRI, talking about my problems with emgality, and asking about why my prescription is currently in limbo. I'm going to call the nurse line to see what I should do about the test results, schedule an appointment with my actual specific PCP, and start typing up the ungodly level of paperwork I need to create for the next appointment and a treatment plan based on my symptoms. And then as a treat next friday I'm going to tell my story to my therapist to explain why I haven't been doing the therapy stuff I want to be doing this week instead of trying to do it and failing -_-

The main things I need to figure out is if 1) one of my prescriptions is causing this 2) if there's any possibility there is actually a bacteria infection 3) what other things I could have symptoms of 4) what intermediate treatment options I have between now and the endoscopy for the Problems

eventually I'm going to have to type up a bunch of treatment guidelines for MCAS and surgery so I'll need to get a consult through my doctor and a bunch of papers through the EDS support groups if I can. Plus all the documentation for my RFC form, citations from my doctors notes, records requests from tufts, my previous hospitals, and get my password recovered for an online portal/records request if I can't.

and in the meantime I'm going to have to sleep. Ugh. I know I procrastinated on laundry but it's like. How am I supposed to do all the things? how is anyone supposed to do all the things??? I see all the work people have to put into being people and it's a wonder any of us are moderately functional. I want to be physically stable enough that I can have good, positive, and stable relationships with the people I care about. And we have plans this weekend ;-; and I still haven't edited the wedding photos OTL

Edit: this is the part where my therapist/housemates tell me I'm not responsible for literally all the things and I should rest and where i remind myself that thinking I have to fix everything is also in and of itself a type of grandiosity *sigh* baby steps

#personal #I'm getting all sweaty and shakey #me and my bowels need to have a discussion man to man about a ceasefire until this crap gets resolved #disability #ableism

[chicago-geniza]

in an ideal world if i could just argue my case & magically convince doctors to do every test that might help & also it would be free:

parathyroid hormone levels (i always have elevated or borderline elevated calcium; i had a benign ectopic pancreatic tumor in my stomach; i have refractory peptic & duodenal ulcers, & severe refractory GERD; i have esophageal reflux dysphagia & cell changes leading to barrett's esophagus; they suspected zollinger ellison syndrome but never followed up, & together with my diffuse nonspecific fatigue/pain/GI issues, it is worth ruling out gastrinoma for sure & multiendocrine neoplasia for SURE for sure)

the full migraine-epilepsy-spinocerebellar ataxia genetic panel that also tests for mitochondrial diseases that mimic those conditions

biopsy esophagus, stomach lining, & small intestine for mastocytosis / eosinophilic esophagitis, gastritis, or whatever the intestinal version is, i forget

small intestinal transit study

repeat ultrasound of renal arteries because the last one was...unusable? & they just. kinda shrugged even though they couldn't see whether or not there was stenosis

please just rule out abdominal aortic dissection they run in my family so hard & i have hypertension & weird vascular issues nobody understands & i don't want to die in my 30s-40s

repeat MRI & brain CT w/ contrast just to check on things since i haven't had one since 2018 & am supposed to get them every 2 years re: cerebellum & the white matter you get with my genre of migraine

TILT TABLE

holter monitor that actually works

the thing where they measure your arterial pressure & blood oxygen as you change position? i don't remember but they used it to diagnose the guy whose symptoms mimicked POTS but had a different condition related to obstructive lung disease

the alpha-1 antotrypsin deficiency test that i WILL send this coming week for REAL

updated pulmonary function testing including the, um, what's it called. the stress test with the substance that starts with m? not metacholine but you know what i mean, the one they use to diagnose asthma. updated one of those too, i think my last one was in middle school & my lungs are Worse lol

sleep study for narcolepsy & sleep apnea

the thing where they run fibers into your extremities to see where your damaged nerves are when you have peripheral neuropathy so a doctor can write down "peripheral neuropathy" instead of "fibromyalgia" & insurance will let you see a pain clinic instead of a psychotherapist

full anemia breakdown & figure out why i have normal iron levels & normal ferritin & normal hemoglobin but my levels of BOUND iron are always anemia-low & i seem to have like, a transferrin deficiency??? what...causes that???

[Say The Line, Bart voice] anti-nuclear antibody test not at the clinic's convenience but when i am actually having an arthritis flare so it doesn't come back negative & get me dismissed from rheumatology lmfao. i've had this test done a handful of times in my life & the results are about 50/50 split down positive/negative & you'll never guess what the predictive co-variable is re: positive results (it's a corresponding elevated CRP level, because...autoimmune disease)

[vykko]

So I don’t like going to the doctors because being unitenally miss gendered and ableism and it accidentally turned into me venting

It only recently that a couple doctors don’t do this but every time my mum feels the need to say I’m autistic for no reason

like “she autistic and doesn’t like needles”

like mother dearest you could of just said the needle part as I’m now being treated not as a patient but like animal at the vets

like almost immediately I’m talked about like I’m not there and it feels so I can’t find a word that describes it

Like I hate being there and my mum get asked questions even tho I’m fucking 16 mum is my ride to the doctors

like last year I had so many appointments as I was sick a lot, I had 2 blood tests, an mri and my chromosomes looked at

and for the mri no one told me my results I found out from my mum because they told her but not me

I asked her when the appointment for the results were on because it had been 2 months and I was told I was going to get told in person

I had an mri to see and check because I was having constant migraines invade something was wrong, and no body thought maybe they should tell me the fucking results because it was hunky dory when we were looking into case I had maybe a tumor or something wrong AND NO BODY TOLD ME THE FUCKING RESULTS LIKE MAYBE IT WOULD HELP WITH STRESS BECAUSE I WAS SCARED SOMETHING WAS WRONG FKR MONTHS

also I got my chromosomes thingy done and I wasn’t told you know “everything is clear” I wa just told I was a normal girl, not any about my chromosomes because I was genuinely interested but also it really stung being told what felt like “your a girl because your chromosomes say so” like she didn’t know I was Trans and neither does my family but it sill really hurt

shot I’m crying

#ablism #vent #I was genuinely surprised when the dude running the mri didn’t treat me different when mum said I’m autistic that how low my bar is

[songofsutarima]

More 5 minute or Work Writes

The second part of the list

———————————

11) Write a poem where each line ends with a word that doesn't rhyme with anything. (Orange, silver, purple, month, angel, dangerous, etc.)

As someone who depends on rhyme like money used to count on silver

It truly drives me mad that half the time a similar sound cannot be glimpsed.

Rhyme is sort of my favorite thing, and when I can’t, I’m filled with angst.

When there’s nothing for me to bring, it’s kind of when I pop my fifth.

That’s only in the hopes that in pursuit of sleep or writing, my mind may oblige.

That’s why I’m wrapping up with this line; this poem feels weird; like sinking into depths.

12) Write a poem with twelve lines, where each line represents a month of the year.

Breathe in, cold, crisp, full of hope

Exhale short, from time cut and you cope.

Step, heel-toe, one foot leading the other

And play not the fool, spare embarrassment for mother.

Let it be that you come home

And ‘Juin’ not they that roam

Do not lie, you would not return

I’d guessed you’d rather simply burn.

‘Xcept embers sting, have cause me be one burnt

Awk though over years, heat hasn’t caused me one turnt.

As turkey time approaches, and we have a bird roasted

I hope we know…not even Christmas for this stressfulness should have boasted.

13) Interview a mundane object in your home.

Hey, Merida, glad to have you with us today,

“Glad to be here” I’m sure she’d say.

Tell us, I’m sure some would like to know

What makes you happy, gives you glow?

“Maybe that my owners always find time to blow

Sometimes using me quickly, often taking time, burning with me slow.”

Do they take care of you? Treat you well?

“I would say yes from what I can tell,

Though..since I’ve been cleaned it’s been a spell.”

What is your favorite memory from what you recall?

“Mom choosing me from the shops glass stall!”

What about scary? What struck you with fear?

“Losing some brothers and sisters, some colored, some clear.”

Okay, finally, just for clarity for our readers,

Do you mind specifying what you happen to be?

“Oh sure! I’m a favorite glass, used quite often

Thought I prefer “water pipe”, there are other words that also define me”

14) Write about your earliest memory.

I feel I should start with a disclaimer small.

I’m not going to like writing this. Not much at all.

But the earliest fragment I can claim

Is one where I was slightly maimed.

I want to say it was a Friday evening, possibly the day that follows.

Regardless, it’s an eve that causes hard swallows.

I was having a good day, not much was wrong

Mom was getting ready for Im guessing clubbing all night long.

Feeling happy, more or less dancing on air

Stepping into Mom’s room to say I love you and I care.

“Mom! Hug!” With arms up and hands out

Perhaps it was rude and a little demanding

I still don’t really know what she was angry about

I just know what rings feel like from someone backhanding.

The sting was small, I think I was mostly in shock.

Like..did I annoy you with the way I talk?

I remember just standing still for what seemed a moment eternal.

And that’s basically it, the earliest entry in my memory journal.

15) If you found out you weren't filled with the normal things (blood, guts, etc.), what do you think would be inside you?

I was bored once

And being of curious mind

I set out to do some tests

To see what I might find.

I started with CT’s

To put the hidden in clear view

And it may shock you to know

Instead of a heart, I found a crew.

A dozen or so beings

All of emotional name

To throw me in different corners

All working furiously the same.

An MRI is the scan that followed

I needed to see the shape of my brain

I just had to know what was in control

Who had the supreme reign.

The scan revealed nothing,

To me it made no sense

I needed fresh eyes inside

And had to convince a friend off his fence.

Just a small window

Enough to see

And shine a light

Into apparently cavernous me.

Smoke and water

All things in clouds

Whispers and murmurings

Words dressed in shrouds.

X-rays I suppose

Was the most logical thing.

Hoping what holds me up is iron and bone

But at this point expecting wood and string.

Showing up on the scan

Something I didn’t believe at first pass

To see that even that is hollow

As my bones are music and glass.

The next part was just me

Something just I needed to know.

Something a little gruesome

To find what really really flows.

Just a small incision

I mean…it’s certainly what I meant

But I couldn’t waste the time

As it was already being spent.

It was odd to see what flowed

To see once cut what would be the river.

Silver, and gold, light and happiness

And hopeless blackness, greys that made me shiver.

One thing that was unexpected

I didn’t look for and so didn’t think I’d see the sight.

When I wanted to see what life had made me,

I didn’t think my soul would still show any shimmering light.

16) Write a poem in which you forgive yourself.

Do you not know or understand

The fires I’ve caused and fanned?

“Forgive yourself” I have heard them say

But that seems for someone else on another day.

The blood on my hands, the ink blackness of a heart

I’d love to forgive. But how do I get there? Where do I start?

Listen well, please, as it’s said another time

A past can stay past without repeated crime.

Yes, I saw what happened, what you did and said.

I see the things that cause the daymares constant in your head.

I understand you failed, you aren’t who you could have been,

That does not mean you don’t deserve your zen.

It has been quite long enough; there is something that must truly be learned.

It’s time to just let go, be forgiven; it isn’t as though it can be earned.

17) Write about what kind of poetry different animals would write. (Would small creatures write shortpoems? Would beautiful creatures write beautiful poems? Or would it be entirely different?)

If you listen in nature, and can read,

Poetry is every creature, from bee to stallion steed.

Buzzing little friends writing circular and square.

Swans writing love sonnets to show their care.

While mighty beasts like wolves, lion, or bear

Write ballads of battles where they crush those that dare

Challenge their power, prowess, and strength.

Doves singing psalms at unending length.

Owls and elephants with proverbs to spread wisdom with words.

Haikus hidden in the chirps, whistles, and singing of birds.

Rhyming important for spiders who like all things in order.

While dolphins push more of a free verse border.

All things in nature have poetry, some song.

One of my favorite things is to listen and read-sing along.

18) Write about an object you've lost. Where might it be now?

I lost it when I was a child

I set it down, but should have filed

Something somewhere to remind me where it went

Before I had hours and hours searching spent.

It was late at night, so I feel only so much blame.

And it wasn’t me that stripped innocence from my name.

19) Try to write a"square poem", in the style of Lewis Carroll.

If I love you forever

Will you forever return?

When the last lights all go out

Will our fire continue burn?

Will you, in this journey life,

Hold my hand at every turn?

Or be a lesson to learn?

20) Write about sounds you might encounter in outer space.

Floating in a vacuum, you might find

Something that really should not shock your mind.

The things you might actually hear floating in the vast emptiness of space

Would be your skin freezing, your lungs cracking, as life leaves your body without a trace.

—————————————-

The top of the list

https://at.tumblr.com/songofsutarima/694676390289801216/h2m67dcfyk48

#new poem #poems on tumblr #poetry #prompt poetry #tumblr inspired

[scribblelegs]

So I Can’t remember if I posted this or not but I had an MRI and EEG and it came back that my medication’s are slowing my brain waves which is affecting my memory loss. The MRI came back fine the EEG is where they found that. They said I was probably misdiagnosed and most likely I’m not schizo, but probably do have a bipolar or mood disorder. Of course I still have anxiety, and PTSD which could’ve progressed. But they think I have ADHDL O L and that I say duh. And then I wonder to myself why all these doctors just ignored me all these years, and I feel really much like I was just a learning tool for doctors. To see how these medication’s work on people, because a lot of the times I was getting sample meds and the doctors were getting kickbacks for that. And I had a lot of adverse reactions and my body and mind both paid for it in return.

So I’m gonna be going through some more tests to find out if I have attention deficit disorder or possibly obsessive compulsive disorder

I don’t know a lot about these things however every teacher family member friend person that I met usually asks if I have ADHD. So I’m shocked that it took this long for someone to say that and me not to say it first. I was literally crying to the doctor, because my nurse practitioner is working at a state run facility on a sliding scale and they’re overworked with too many patients. And she uses her political views, religious views, and a personal views to get in the way of her work her work.

She’s really unprofessional and kept bringing up things like well did you used to do a lot of Molly or do you used to abuse benzos. And that I said no, I did not abuse Molly, and the benzos were prescribed. And I said I used to use m3th , But not for nearly as long or as much or as many different medication’s as I had been prescribed LOLOLOL

so she just doesn’t get it and she’s hell-bent on the fact that I use drugs to self medicate in the years that the doctors refuse to listen. And they were plenty of years that I did exactly what they said and even quit smoking weed, quit drinking, and with diet and exercise because they said it would help. OK well whatever I kept ending up in the psych ward and I have a feeling that it was because of environmental factors like it witnessing trauma going through things that were traumatic and seeing things that were messed up, as well as the extreme amount of anxiety and panic attacks that I had all my life. That went untreated,

So I just wonder if you can get triggered into a psychosis when you’re under that type of stress, or depression. Because I found some papers from an admission and it said that I had like severe depression with psychotic features. Which would be psychosis

&I don’t think everybody that suffers from psychosis has a schizo spectrum disorder. I think it’s something that an every day person can suffer from based on what happens to them in their life and they just don’t know enough about it so they just keep giving people these blankets diagnosis is like schizo affective disorder. I think any one that suffers something traumatic or is under extreme stress, or anything that could affect your normal day could possibly be hard for the brain to process thus going into psychosis to protect yourself. Very much like repressing memories. To the point where I’m like maybe a repressed all this stuff and that was like a reset, and it happened 2 to 3 times a year for six years and never again.

Schizoaffective is a lazy diagnosis that they know nothing about and that’s a way for them to say well you’re suffering from a psychotic disorder and a mood disorder so here’s your diagnosis have fun. Take a bunch of meds that probably won’t help that’ll ruin and destroy your mind and body and yeah good luck with that. We’ll see you in a few months.

I just feel relieved and scared and that’s it and then I’m gonna end this cause it’s so long and I’m sorry it went on but thank you for reading lol

 The doctor said that my memory loss could be from the fact that I’m having such a difficult time focusing, listening, and all that other stuff and it’s causing me to get frustrated and forget. To the point where I can’t get anything done or remember what I did yesterday or what I’m doing tomorrow or I’ll be talking and forget midsentence what I’m saying

And it’s embarrassing 

Oh yeah I also have a racing thoughts so my boyfriend thinks I could be cyclothymic and my brother just got diagnosed that as well. My grandma had bipolar disorder and so does my aunt, so it’s totally possible that it could just be a rapid cycling of thoughts my brain not knowing how to process it throwing me into psychosis under the pressure of my environment during my younger years not understanding. Now that I’m older I know the signs and the triggers and yeah I protect myself. I sleep, I eat, I hydrate. I mean I was suffering from a severe eating disorder till I was 22 and I’m sure that had something to do with it too. Having my body depleted of vitamins and being emaciated for so long it probably was a shock to be eating food

So yeah I keep going over things in my head as to why they didn’t just ask these questions and figure these things out from the get and it’s so much simpler when you step back and look at it from the bigger picture

I can’t control my emotions too

😬😑😬😑

[tentacledtherapist]

Dearest Lisa,

I have missed writing to you, but I have had what feels like the longest month of my life. It truly feels like my body is decaying away sometimes, and never do I get a break.

Only now, just before dawn, do I write to you, sitting under the low hanging aurora borealis that skirts farther south than normal today, deep in the wilderness on the other side of the country, as the fog clears over the lake. My only moment of peace, after I have been running and running and running, and I slow to a stop here and think of you. And I know it is time to write.

Things have been busy! Normally after a weekend where I am very active I need nearly a week to rest (as I mentioned my body is truly falling apart!) But I haven't had a single moments rest this month so the feeling like I am running is true to form. I've had business every single weekend and other business and doctors nonsense during the week. I'm preparing for a mild surgery next week (hence all my appointments) and since I won't be able to do anything while recovering I obviously had to make up for it in the month running up to it. Hopefully all goes well? If only I truly could just be stitched together and be done with it. Probably easier to deal with it that way, hobble along with a new leg or hand or whatever immediately rather then this fabled "bed rest" that's all the rage these days~! I did get some x-rays in preparation if you'd like to see them. Not exactly a face reveal but they're fun to look at that's for sure. (Is it weird I think my spine looks pretty? It's an experience to see your own Vertebrae.)

I really hope you're doing well. How has your project been going? I cannot wait for you to post the final result. Anything particularly interesting happen while I was away? I thought of you often even amidst the chaos!

Take care,

Your Creature

adam!

oh, creech, i missed you! i was worried. i hoped you were okay but i didn’t know what you were going through and i didn’t want to add to any potential stress so i figured i would just wait until you were able to talk again. i thought about you a lot, hoping you were well. i’m glad you are (at least relatively)

i get the struggle when it feels like your body is falling apart. just last year i spent every weekend in a different doctor’s office trying to figure out why my joints were suddenly shutting down. lots of poking and prodding and x-rays and MRIs and blood tests, i felt like a pincushion. (as it turns out, my white blood cells are hyperactive, and have been attacking the healthy tissue in my joints! i also have 1/3 of a thyroid cause of that!) i’m sorry you have to go through this all now. it’s exhausting and disheartening and monetarily draining to be constantly in and out of doctors offices. i’m glad you’ll be getting some rest at least post surgery. I hope it all goes well for you, i know how stressful surgery is

i would like to see x-rays, if you’d like to share them! i don’t think it’s particularly odd to think your own spine is pretty, it is a very cool series of bones. i wish my doctors had sent me copies of my MRIs and x-rays to hang onto, but all i have are memories…

my project has unfortunately been put on hold. i have all the pieces together but i have very little time to actually work on it. i’m in the final stages of my thesis as it stands right now, so i have only a few weeks to get it to its final draft of this stage! stressful stuff. in between working on my paper, i’ve also been spending time at the encampments on my campus. mine has been mostly peaceful because the mayor of my city has been very outspoken in calling off the police that my chancellor keeps calling in, but it is scary. i’ve had a gun pointed at me in a school environment multiple times, but it doesn’t get less intimidating. regardless, i refuse to stand by while israel commits genocide “in my name” just because i’m jewish or whatever (even though that’s very clearly not their motivation nor is it any of the other things they’re spouting.)

i didn’t get lucky enough to see the aurora, unfortunately. it supposedly was visible as far south as where i live, but i wasn’t able to see it through light pollution and cloud cover. i have photos from some friends farther north, but i didn’t get to see it myself

it must have been beautiful

- Your Lisa

#ps: #the animated spider-man movies into and across the spiderverse are amazing to watch when emerging from anesthesia #you’re still a little loopy and the colors are like cocomelon #it’s what i watched after my most recent surgery - wisdom tooth removal

[yeet-saintlaurent]

Dandelions of the Daylight // Anger as a spiritual diagnosis and intervention

In today’s sermon at church covering the book of Jonah, it spoke about Jonah’s anger towards God. As crazy as that sounds, he did have a sense of separation between his beliefs and what was actually the message from God, all this time while preaching the words. Anger then comes in many forms, like Jesus’s anger in the temple while it was desecrated, that anger was out of righteousness. Anger can be in the form of insecurity where a fear of loss and possible disappointment can make us feel that way. Anger could also be a form of self defence out of pride, the fear of misunderstanding, misjudgment to one’s display of character and intentions and embarrassment. However Jonah’s anger was not of those two, it was more of a misunderstanding of the theology, a wrong view of the word. Knowing that god provides amazing grace and mercy is only half of the story, knowing his benevolence in love being offered even to those that were against him, Jonah’s enemies, completes the fact that grace and mercy should be available to all even for those we think are undeserving. Then brings us to this question, if Jonah never got angry, how would he have known that a misunderstanding has occured ? Was anger a form of diagnosis that prompted a remedial action ? Much like a MRI scan in modern medicine that looks beneath what seemed normal on the outside to discover the source of the problem on the insides. Bringing away from today’s sermon on Jonah, I thought a lot of anger in the last few months. After a terrible break up, was I inadequate as an individual, as a man? Was I angry that I was lacking ? Am I angry at myself for believing it will work out? Will I be angry that I did not choose to go back and fight for it even at the end? Will I detest myself for letting go ?

Will I be happy again ? When will that be?

The matter is, anger took a lot of processing and effort, it is simply not as easy as venting. Anger became my compass for sometime, a compass that spun irrationally disorientating and directing me to a place I’d find myself lost and shattered. When that happened, I simply prayed. Anger is worded very loud and rumbles towards the end. Praying made me quiet, while anger slowly faded. It offered a little peace while I figured out everything. Anger showed me I still cared, for myself. I stood up to what I believed, for myself. Anger showed me I was capable of knowing what’s best for me. What good does anger do for you ? Let’s think.

Is our anger doing well for us ? For whatever reason, does it add much to our lives? More often than not, anger results in bitterness and resentment either to ourselves or what we are projecting it to. If Anger does not offer immediate gratification for oneself unlike what self-proclaimed popular commentary suggests then anger truly only becomes an emotional mechanism to reveal something we need to face. Deep down, anger points us in a direction that we need fixing. We have lost expectations, ungratefulness, misunderstanding that leads to anger. When anger stems from anything but righteous intentions, it reveals a darker side to our own spirituality. Anger brings us out of naivety to a cavity within us we ignored/overlooked that needs filling to save ourselves from the discomfort. Does anger do well for you ? Means does anger bring on better actions.

Medically, our bodies are created to be inclined for goodness and chillness. People who have a great sense of anger and stress have a tendency to have raised cortisol levels, a hormonal response to stress. Too little or too much leads to health problems, obesity, fatigue, anger literally kills us. That is not to say we shouldn’t be angry, not at all, if we had understood, anger is just a justification of our perceived needs. We need anger to show that our heart still beats.

Remember there’s no other out there than God who can take your anger wholeheartedly. Go to him. Place your anger in God and let it find you peace and be better for you❤️.

-Dan

#dotm #passages #quotes #therapy #paragraph