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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 1 month ago

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‘Gun Play’ & ‘Fear Play’ w/ Scarecrow (for Kinktober 2024)

Title: take this gun and cock it

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Batman Trilogy (Nolanverse)

Characters: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow); Female Reader Insert

Pairing: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)/Female Reader

Summary: You knew you shouldn’t have put Dr. Crane on your dissertation committee, but he had the most pull in the Neuropharmacology world in and around Gotham. If you wanted to make a name for yourself in this profession, you’d need to get on his good side. After several passive-aggressive meetings with said professor, you decide enough is enough. If research and academia won’t show him, you will. So one afternoon, you walk into his private office intending to once and for all, prove to your Professor that pleasure is just as great, if not superior, of a motivator as fear. [Warning: Reader is high-key insane in this, like, almost as nuts as Crane. But be aware, this is a dark fic with very unequal power dynamics at play.]

Trigger Warning(s): Gunplay; Drugging; Threats of Violence; Implied Sex; Dubious Consent (due to the whole pointing a gun at him thing); Very Unsafe Firearm Practices (that would probably get this fic sponsored by the NRA); [Lowkey] Dead Dove, Do Not Eat

A/N: Here it is- my first-ever attempt at participating in Kinktober! So please go easy on me.

♔☍☣ ♔☍☣♔☍☣ ♔☍☣

“Knock, knock.” Poking your head into Dr. Professor Crane’s doorway, you flashed your teacher a cunning smile. “Got a sec?”

Not bothering to look up from his paperwork, Dr. Professor Crane’s answer was detached as per his usual.

“Office hours are posted on the door. If you must speak with me,” Jonathan sighed, tired of the frequent idiotic interruptions from fatuous students, “Sign up for a time slot. I don’t accept walk-ins.”

You playfully pouted, your recently glossed lips pursing into the shape of a frown.

“Surely that doesn’t include me? Especially since… I brought you coffee!”

Upon hearing your oddly chipper voice, Dr. Crane looked up, a perturbed expression on his face.

You waited silently as he sized you up, your gleeful exterior not shirking under his ice-blue gaze.

“Come in,” Crane finally settled on, the fresh coffee too tempting of an opportunity to pass up.

“One large black coffee, regular, just how you like it.”

You held out the beverage for him to take, blinking impatiently as he ignored your physical presence and instead went back to reading. With a roll of your eyes, you placed the styrofoam cup at the top of his desk.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you delved into the matter.

“So, uh, Dr. Professor Crane,” you started, “I wanted to speak to you about my upcoming thesis defense—”

“Mhm-hm,” Crane mumbled, already having written off the remainder of this interaction.

“Well, I was wondering if—”

“No.”

“I’m, I’m sorry?”

“I don’t give extensions. If you wanted to become a Doctor you should have thought of the effort required before applying to this program.”

You couldn’t help but sputter at the bastard’s words. Did he honestly think you were here to grovel before him? To get on your hands and knees and beg for an extension?! Oh, how rich!

After all the hoops you’ve jumped through, after all the changes and additional inclusions you made solely for his approval, for his benefit, did he truly think you had any intention of doing one more single thing he asked?

‘Oh no. Oh no, no, no,’ you thought. ‘I’m not the one that’s going to leave this office begging.’

You knew you needed his support for there to be unanimous approval from your dissertation committee concerning your upcoming thesis defense next week. And you knew from all the previous horror stories you’d heard through the Gotham University grapevine that in most cases, Crane was often students’ one stubborn holdout.

You knew you shouldn’t have picked him to be your dissertation advisor. But dammit, he was the best in the field of Neuropharmacology, so you figured you’d just suck it up and get on his good side. The only problem was, the man didn’t seem to have a good side!

Every semester, every class with him was like pulling teeth: torturously slow and agonizingly painful. You worked your ass off, day and night, working full-time while juggling a full course load only to be demeaned and nitpicked every chance he got. You were consistently the best in your class, and yet not once did Dr. Crane ever offer an encouraging word or a simple ‘great work’. But oh boy, did he have tons to say the second you’d make one teeny-tiny mistake.

It made your blood boil.

And the man simply would not shut the hell up about fear!

Fear, fear, fear, fear— it’s all he ever enjoyed lecturing about! It was obsessive! It had to be.

The way his fascination with fear and adrenaline would pervade their way into other topic discussions, so you wound up responsible for teaching yourself his lesson material nearly half the time. You swore he talked about fear so much, that some of your fellow students ended up having fear-induced psychotic breaks themselves!

At least, that’s what you used to think.

After a particularly harsh meeting with Dr. Crane, your adversarial thesis advisor, you ran into a fellow Psychology student as you entered the bathroom. Seeing your tearful expression and feeling concerned for your well-being, they cautioned you against working too closely with Crane any further. Confused, you wiped the tears and snot off your face and asked for them to clarify what they meant.

Apparently, someone, they weren’t sure who— probably a former flunkee student— started the vicious rumor that Crane was using his students as guinea pigs to conduct unauthorized experiments surrounding fear, and the nervous system’s fear response.

She said that several students had reported leaving lectures feeling nauseous, and unexpectedly anxious. Of course, it could have just been the grotesque nature of the material or the fact that Dr. Crane was a frightening teacher to perform for, but some of them had sworn they must've been hit with something inside his classroom.

It all sounded so farfetched, like the B-plot to a bad sci-fi movie. It couldn’t possibly be true. But then, the reality of your past experiences in his lectures came crashing down onto you like a tidal wave.

You were always so worked up, so angry when you left his lectures. You had just assumed it was because you found the man infuriating but what if…

‘What if,’ your mind supplied, ‘What if your anger, your elevated heart rate— what if all of it, was your nervous system’s fight or flight response having been activated by some secret drug?’

That’s when it all fell into place. It was like your blinders had been ripped off, exposing you, in an instant, to the harsh reality:

Your Professor, Dr. Jonathan Crane had spent the last few years drugging you, and getting away with it.

You didn’t know what pissed you off more, the fact that he used you as a lab rat or the fact that this little ongoing experiment of his was most likely the reason behind why he had such dissent for your thesis.

Your entire argument was that, as far as human motivators go, pleasure and reward had a much stronger influence compared to the fear of pain or punishment.

But of course!

It made sense that Dr. Crane took issue with that stance when his entire ideology revolved around how fear, not pleasure, not reward, ruled the mind above all else.

The cherry on top was that your unknowing participation in his sick game only further proved his point: your anger, triggered by your fear of failure, had driven you to work as hard as you did. No wonder he was so eager to criticize your manuscript! Every single time he watched your nostrils flare and your lips purse, he would know his theory was being proven right.

Well… not this time. Oh, no. This time, you were going to be the one pulling the strings and he was going to be the little white mouse, wondering which fork in the maze to take.

Was it risky? Oh, for sure. He could have you kicked out of the program, hell probably even arrested and tried for assault. But you just couldn’t curb your desire to do to him what he spent all those years doing to you. You wanted to watch him squirm, wanted to see his pupils blown, and his irises thin as his trembling figure begged for release from your experimental ministrations.

Who knows? Maybe all that medication he’d been slipping you had made you mad.

It was his fault, really. As a psychologist, he should have seen this coming.

Tut tut.

Oh, well! There was nothing he could do now. Not at the moment anyway.

Seated across from where you stood looking over his desk, Dr. Crane may not have known it, but he’d handed you the reins to the experimental controls long ago. From the second he started dosing you, this prognosis was inevitable.

It was like he always said: “The mind could only take so much.”

You walked around to the side of his desk, blocking his view of the door and the hall outside.

‘How cute,’ You thought. How cute how he pretended not to notice the change in your position, nor be intimidated by it.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, demanding his attention. “As I was saying, Professor,” you intentionally skipped his other title, “I need to speak with you a minute.”

Brows furrowing, Dr. Crane momentarily took off his glasses before rubbing his forehead trying to relieve some of the building tension. Unsuccessful in the attempt, Crane placed his rectangular glasses back on the bridge of his nose and turned his attention back to you.

The deprecatory nature of his stare combined with his piercing light blue eyes had the opposite effect. If you hadn’t learned the true nature of his psyche, you might have once again been intimidated by them. Rather than unnerve you, they made him appear susceptible. It was too late. You saw him for what he was now: a coward.

It was… appetizing.

Behind those frozen irises, behind that steely gaze was a scared little boy, playing dress-up, trying desperately to look stronger and bigger than he was.

Dr. Jonathan Crane was simply a scared little kid, masked in a psychologist's trench coat.

And now, you thought it high time to unmask him.

Ignoring his judgemental gaze, you moved even closer.

“I’m just trying to understand, Professor.”

Taking a seat on the corner of his desk, you were very much aware of how your deceptively short pencil skirt pulled taut against your thighs.

“I think my summation of the available data makes it pretty clear…”

You shifted all of your weight to one red high-heeled foot. The other you allowed to dangle loosely from where your bent knee met the edge of the professor’s dark oak desk.

“The brain’s reward center, dopamine— pleasure, is notably a greater motivator than fear.”

Licking your lips, you couldn't help but watch with wicked delight as the good doctor’s neck tensed, his muscles no doubt straining against the growing, sinful desire to glance downwards at the obvious part between your legs.

You tilted your dangling heel down, the pointed tip of your shoe grazing ever so slightly, ever so suggestively against your dear mentor’s outer thigh. Gleefully, you wondered if he could pick up the scent of your arousal, the two of you currently less than a foot apart.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Ms. (L/N),” Crane started.

“Come now, Doctor. Surely you, of all people, know that throughout human history, both mentally and physiologically speaking, pleasure has been, at the very least, as influential of a motivator as fear?”

Your dangly earring shook with the slight tilt of your head.

“People love to chase what feels good, what excites them, what makes them feel alive! Regardless of whether or not that thing isn’t good for them.”

Your equally distracting red-manicured fingers began to trace gentle circles around your outer ankle bone, the ends of your nails briefly swiping over the black material of his suit pants.

“Humans’ desire to feel pleasure wins out over their ability to behave rationally.”

Professor Dr. Crane swallowed tersely before nodding.

“I would agree with that statement.”

Jonathan pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, using the momentum as an inconspicuous opportunity to scooch his chair back, away from your contact.

“However, I would maintain the argument that fear holds a much more pivotal role in the survival of a species. And is, therefore, much more consequential in its provocations.”

“Hmm…” You pursed your lips together, obviously only pretending to be deep in thought.

Across from you, Jonathan’s resentment for your pathetic salacious attempt only grew as he watched your actions morph into something akin to mockery.

You were his inferior! How dare you question him?!

It was bad enough the university board was breathing down his neck, now he had some pseudo-confident slutty graduate student to contend with as well.

Oh, you would pay for this. He would make you regret this little attention-whore stunt of yours. Just you wait…

Unfettered by the way Professor Crane’s jaw clenched, you continued your practiced spiel.

“I can see why you’d champion that. After all, your experiments here are centered around patients' reactions to fearful stimuli.” Unbothered, you checked your manicure before foxily pushing yourself off the desk, your high heels landing with a pointed ‘clack’ sound as they hit the floor.

“Makes sense why you’d be unable to recognize an opposing, although equally valid theory.”

“My grading is objective and based entirely on a student’s performance. And for you to imply otherwise—” Professor Crane’s piercing blue eyes stayed confidently fixed on yours.

“But it’s subjective too,” you countered, stepping directly in front of the man.

“You’re judging my performance on your personal model. A biased model ingrained in you, that your deeply held beliefs reign superior. To you, fear is the end all be all; it’s the cornerstone of human motivation. You can’t accept my performance as worthy or eligible when you're fixated on your own theory. Your superiority complex prevents you from being anything other than subjective as far as my research, my papers— even my very existence in your class is concerned.”

“It is not a discredit to my insight that you are incapable of seeing the depth of my genius—” Jonathan started to heatedly refute your assessment, but you cut him off.

Stepping forward, you placed your knee on the edge of his chair, centering it between his own.

“I know about your experiments.”

You kept your tone low so that only he could hear.

“I know the board is growing suspicious, thinking of ‘asking’ you to resign.” You said, making air quotes. “I know all about your special ‘cocktail’ the night of the Christmas Eve Party. I know the cops have been sniffing around, and it’s only a matter of time before those inbred idiots start asking that poor girl the right questions.”

“What do you want?” Jonathan asked, keeping a stiff upper lip.

Mindful not to alert you to his plan of action, Jonathan remained calm. He could still regain control here.

The man also known as Scarecrow to his Arkham patients was keenly aware that his briefcase containing his fear gas briefcase and Scarecrow mask was situated just to the left of you, resting inconspicuously on his desk.

If he could just make a move for it without you becoming wise to his plan.

‘What are you waiting for?!’ A scratchy, harsh voice inside Jonathon’s mind chided the Doctor for his hesitation. ‘Do it! Show her that fear is our domain, not hers, not hers! It’s time!’

‘It’s always time, isn’t it?’ Jonathan’s much smoother voice commented drearily. ‘Time to run. Time to cower.’

Time to just keep his head down and accept the consequences, accept how shameful, how broken he was.

‘No! No! It’s time to fight back! Time to glower! Time to gloat and rule over those puny imbeciles who’ve done us wrong. We are not afraid! They should be the ones who are afraid! They will be the ones who scream and cry— not us, not us!’

He would not release his hold on the situation. He did not scrape by, lie, steal, and torture for his brilliance only to roll over and show his belly to you! The wounded part of him demanded action, demanded sacrifice for these feelings of apprehension you had caused him.

The psychologist in him, the professional in him was almost impressed, nay, enthralled by your show of dominance. It was both vexing and amusing. It had crept under his skin and sunk its perfectly manicured claws into his chest, reaching in and commanding his heart to beat.

His heart started to beat faster and his breaths became more and more shallow.

It was dizzying, intoxicating— arousing even.

The Scarecrow in him wanted to crush it— to squash you.

But Jonathon wanted it to keep going— to consume him whole.

Enjoying his responses so far, you gripped both armrests of his chair, locking him in place.

“I want to conduct a little experiment of my own.” Your voice was still quiet, still assured.

“And then you can tell me in real-time which is stronger: pleasure…”

Releasing one hand from the armrest, you traced a red coffin-nailed finger down Jonathon’s chest, right down the middle of his tie.

“...Or fear.”

Feeling cornered by the weight of the unknown, the Scarecrow decided to make his move.

“If you’re done with this little display here, I have other matters to attend to, much more important than contending with brainless whore students.” He sneered, hoping his icy tone would catch you off guard enough that he could casually push out from under your weight.

His piercing blue eyes met your determined ones. It seemed you weren’t backing down.

‘Fine then’, Jonathan thought. ‘If that’s how you wanted to play it’.

His arm shot out past you, quickly gripping the handle of his briefcase. But before he could tug it open, you decided to play the last card up your sleeve.

“Not so fast, Doctor,” you reprimanded as if speaking to a child. “It’s not time for that… yet.”

Frozen, Jonathan’s previously confident eyes shifted into an expression between confusion and fear. Unable to even speak, he couldn't help but look back and forth between where his hand rested on his briefcase handle, and where your hand rested, gripping the barrel of a gun.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” You asked, turning the gun sideways to show off the pearl handle. “My Father gifted it to me when I moved to Gotham for University. Of course, at the time, I thought it was such a silly gift. Just total overkill. And then, I came here,” you waved it around rather casually as you spoke, “And I met you.”

You laughed, villainously at the memory, bearing your teeth and smiling wickedly at the dumbfounded teacher in front of you.

“Can I just say? I had never once thought of putting a bullet through a teacher’s head before I met you. God! You were just so, so, infuriating!” You shook your head in amused disbelief.

“And so arrogant! I mean the number of times you let out a little too much information, all just to insult a student’s inferior answer or to roast a fellow professor.” Your expression became incredulous. “Do you realize how much you told us, all because you thought we were too stupid to understand?!”

You rhythmically pressed the gun up into his, teasingly punctuating every other word.

“I mean, come on! Isn’t that Intro to Villany 101? Don’t spill the beans?”

“You don’t know anything.” The bolder character inside of Professor Crane had found his voice. “You may think you do, but you’re sorely mistaken.”

“I know enough,” you countered.

“Not as far as the cops are concerned. Or the faculty board.” His self-assured tone rivaled yours. “Do you really think I don’t have men on the inside?”

Having recaptured his certitude, The Scarecrow’s signature condescending expression settled back over his face as he craned his neck forward, bringing his mouth mere inches from your own.

“The minute you tell anyone what you think you know, your life ends— effective immediately.”

His bravado caused your large canine-baring grin to shrink into a much smaller, reserved one. If Johnathan’s words had scared you, you had no intention of making a big show of it.

You leaned in, pushing your face close enough to his that you could feel his heated breath on your lips.

“Guess it’s a good thing then, I don’t intend on telling anyone about this. And neither do you.”

“Is that so?” The Scarecrow challenged.

Without warning, you reached out with your free hand, gripping it securely around his throat, and forcibly tilted his head back. Using your newfound leverage you pushed your knee back against his crotch, smirking as you felt the unmistakable outline of his semi-hard cock through his clothes.

Satisfied that the ball was back in your court, you menacingly lined up the nozzle of your gun with Dr. Crane’s deliciously exposed Adam’s apple.

“Let’s find out.”

♔☍☣ ♔☍☣♔☍☣ ♔☍☣

A/N 2.0: So originally I was gonna expand on the sex scene at the end (because of the whole Kinktober thing, duh!) but I ran out of time. Who knows? Maybe I’ll continue it one day if enough people would enjoy it??? Lmk

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane imagine #jonathan crane #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #hot!

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smytherines · 17 days ago

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spent a very unpleasant hour and a half reading about Soviet torture methods and neuropharmacology and thinking very hard about the character. if you even care

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rohanabb · 9 months ago

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ell-hs on tumblr / © stills / unknown textbook (post) / sir gawain and the green knight, tr. simon armitage

YOU ARE ORGANIC / PLUM-HEARTED / OYSTER-THROATED

> root access granted

SKELETON / DOSSIER (ATTACHED) / PINTEREST / PLOTS

> task directory: arrival. introduction. first impressions.

BASICS.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄. Rohan Ibrahim Abbasi, PhD 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒. Ro 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌. Riz Ahmed

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒. medium height, lean build; cropped hair; short, trimmed beard; casual posture, typically leaning against counters, walls, or doorways with arms crossed; kind eyes. 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. none.

𝐀𝐆𝐄 / 𝐃.𝐎.𝐁. 38 / 30 Sept. 1985 𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂. Libra

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍. Mississauga, ON, Canada 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘. • Muhammad Erhan Abbasi. Father, b. 1949 • Mariyam Abbasi. Mother, b. 1953 • Samaya Hijazi. Sister, b. 1981. Married, two children (17f, 12m). • Naima Abbasi Ito . Sister, b. 1982. Married, three children. (11f, 5m, 5f) • Hanif Muhammad Abbasi. Brother, b. 1987. Married, one child (2m).

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒. trans man / he & him 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘. bisexual 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒. single, formerly engaged

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. charismatic, focused, creative, enthusiastic, tenacious 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. stubborn, arrogant, dismissive, self-righteous, overzealous 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒. nail & cuticle biting; interrupting; leaving personal projects unfinished; double texting 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒. long distance running; a moderator on r/askbiology and frequent contributor to r/askscience; occasional tutoring high school students & undergrads

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒 (𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄). none.

THE FOUNDATION.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄. Staff Researcher

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍(𝐒). • May 2018 – Dec 2018. Research Assistant at Site-17, Talbot Lab • Jan 2018 – Apr 2020. Postdoctoral Researcher at Site-17, Talbot Lab • Apr 2020 – Nov 2021. Postdoctoral Researcher at Site-17, Keir Research Group

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. (November 2021 – Present) Site-169 Anomalous Entity Engagement Division, Schaffer Research Group. Investigating class-B amnestic-facilitated disruption of the hive mind. Tested on colonies with lineages from samples of SCP-1166, SCP-4589, and SCP-171. Experiment ended in failure, requiring fumigation of lab vivariums.

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒

academic. BSc in Biochemistry with a minor in Physiology (following a drop from the pre-med track) from McGill, MSc in Pharmacology from McGill, PhD in Neuroscience from University of Toronto extracurricular. tbd

EXTRAS.

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘.

Dr. Rohan Abbasi first came to the Foundation’s attention shortly following the defense and subsequent publication of his master’s thesis, entitled “Correlation between the potency of hallucinogens in the mouse head-twitch response assay and their behavioral and subjective effects in other species.” (Neuropharmacology 2014). An auspicious start for someone who was, of his own admission, little more than a glorified lab grunt prior to the manuscript’s completion. The Foundation’s growing interest in Dr. Abbasi swiftly followed with his continuing doctoral research into the treatment of complex-PTSD and psychopathies with medical-grade psychedelics and hallucinogens. Records indicate this culmination of Dr. Abbasi’s academic focus to be some combination of chance — with a Research Assistantship in Professor Szymanski’s research group at the University of Toronto open, and Rohan Abbasi in need of additional funding — and a longer trend of interest in and unorthodox approaches to pharmacology and medicine. It was with this in mind that a small but robustly funded lab at site-17 solicited a freshly minted Dr. Abbasi to interview for an opening postdoctoral research position within the group. In the seven years since his tenure at the Foundation began, Dr. Rohan Abbasi’s reputation and portfolio tell vastly different stories of the same man. Colleagues and close personal acquaintances of Dr. Abbasi consistently praise the discipline, energy, and creativity he brings to research settings. Indeed, much of Dr. Abbasi’s early career at the Foundation is categorized by a nearly unending stream of proposals submitted, findings published, journal clubs established, and special interest committees formed. It became, however, the concern of his hiring supervisor that such enthusiasm and, frankly, naivete would outstrip the professional demands of this particular role. Following agreement from all parties, Dr. Abbasi’s fellowship continued under the supervision of the Keir group. Thus, a pattern began to emerge. Dr. Abbasi filled his new position with what former colleagues would now consider characteristic effusiveness and vigor. Rohan himself jumped between several projects, submitting additional proposals for each with or without final approval from his new supervisor, nearly all of which were, unsurprisingly, summarily rejected. This had seemingly little effect on Dr. Abbasi’s commitment to proposing outlandish, unorthodox, unrealistic, and in more than a few cases downright insulting avenues of research or applications of novel (often as-yet-unreplicated) findings. Neither Dr. Abbasi nor his new team were under any illusions, then, on the circumstances and stakes surrounding the assumption of his third post, now in the Anomalous Entity Engagement Division. Indeed, it seems he has finally understood the precarious situation he has continuously engaged in, and has pivoted to bolstering his professional reputation alongside his personal. It’s with this mutual agreement that Dr. Abbasi has been encouraged to continue his work on class B amnestics.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. dm for skeleton-specific details.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 / 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒. tbd.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. Palamades Sextus ( The Locked Tomb ); The Biologist ( Annihilation ); Cosima Niehaus ( Orphan Black ); Dr. Allison Cameron ( House ); Rose Franklin ( The Themis Files ); Hank McCoy/Beast ( X-Men ); definitely others

𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒. tbd.

#fhq.task #palamedes sweetheart my beloved icb i forgot you #pinned

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yurayuramiharin · 2 years ago

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Chapter 4! One more to go! Idk when it's gonna come out!

"Do you want to build a snowelf?" - Ruthari Christmas fic

Pairings: Runaan/Ethari, mentions of Lain/Tiadrin, Runaan's Mother/Runaan's Father (OCs)

Rating: T (might change, still figuring it out)

Chapters: 3/5

Christmas-themed angst with a happy ending ;)

(Idc I have like 3 other ongoing fics, I needed to write this one)

#ruthari #i should be studying neuropharmacology instead of writing this but guess what i am just being sad and gay

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ossifer · 1 year ago

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it's genuinely horrifying to me how often people on this site will reblog sourceless claims about poorly understood medical topics. i feel like it's kind of a no brainer that you shouldn't trust someone trying to lecture you on neuropharmacology unless they can somehow verify what they've said? and definitely don't listen to them if they decide to describe dopamine as 'the happy chemical', holy shit.

it's no secret that there's a great deal about the human body that the majority of practicing professionals gets so severely wrong that it isn't funny—the fact BMI and calories are still taken remotely seriously is disgusting—and even more that we don't know besides that, but i feel like that isn't an excuse to take what is very likely to be misinformation at face value, even if you're only reblogging it because you agree with the sentiment. the problem with the kind of posts i see circulating is that they have the right ideas behind them but they're presented along with very suspect information?

like yeah, emotional highs are usually followed by a crash and you should take steps to prepare for that! but then this sort of logical statement is accompanied with unsubstantiated ideas about how the body works, which really doesn't sit right with me; i think we should be capable of spreading awareness of coping strategies and the like without trying to 'back it up' with claims that are almost always unsourced and very debatable, or just outright wrong.

also if you're going to try and educate people on how their bodies work? provide sources. if you want to educate people then give them somewhere to start from, don't just make claims veiled in medical terminology.

#rattling bones #idk i might delete this later because i know this is vaguing but ugh. i've seen that dopamine crash post so many times!#yeah dopamine production *does* require amino acids like tyrasine found in proteins and the like but it is very doubtful you're—#experiencing an emotional low solely due to some sort of chemical deficiency caused by your brain literally running out of materials—#it's a layered issue; there's psychology involved. other neurotransmitters exist and play a role + dopamine isn't just the happy chemical!#i've seen other posts that make me squint and go 'hmm' but that one is especially egregious #it's near-pseudoscience layered on 'take care of yourself and eat well'#the healthcare feel is so fucked up internally—trust me i know—but just Saying Shit isn't any better

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poughkeepsies · 8 months ago

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gonna spend all the rest of today studying for my neuropharmacology exam so don't you worry I'll get to the bottom of figuring out what the hell kind of drug hozier put in too sweet

#i suspect it's gonna be All

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unwelcome-ozian · 2 years ago

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Neuroweapons cognitively degrade a target using different modalities. First, similar to neuropharmacology on the enhancement front, biochemical agents can incapacitate or influence the actions and emotions of enemies and noncombatants alike.[xxvii] Second, directed energy weapons include a broad class of devices that use intense energy to achieve a desired effect, be it lasers, electro-magnetic pulse (EMP), or radio-frequency/acoustic weapons that impair brain function causing temporary incapacitation and/or death.[xxviii] Some form of directed energy weapon was likely responsible for the attacks against U.S. personnel in Cuba and China.[xxix] Finally, information- and software-based weapons can manipulate the brain, either tangibly with implants or at a distance by manipulating brain responses.

#document dump #Neuroweapons

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bpod-bpod · 2 years ago

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Recognising Rewards

Responding appropriately to pleasant or unpleasant events, in scientific terms rewarding or aversive stimuli, is critical for our health. Neurons in a part of the brain called the dorsal raphe nucleus (DRN), that produce the neurotransmitter serotonin, play a key role in signalling reward. Yet drugs boosting serotonin levels do not restore rewarding feelings in patients with depression, suggesting additional pathways are also involved. In mice, other serotonin-producing neurons, in the median raphe nucleus (MRN), appear to have opposite effects to the DRN: rewarding stimuli inhibit MRN neurons, and stimulating them triggers negative responses. To measure mouse perception, scientists monitored their behaviour and facial expressions; as shown here, mice move their tongue and ears when enjoying a sugar solution, but stimulating MRN neurons dampens this response, suggesting their perception of reward has changed. Understanding this interplay between serotonin pathways will be crucial to developing better treatments for disorders like depression.

Written by Emmanuelle Briolat

Image from work by Hiroyuki Kawai and Youcef Bouchekioua, and colleagues

Department of Molecular Pharmacology, Graduate School of Pharmaceutical Sciences, Kyoto University, Sakyo-ku, Kyoto & Department of Neuropharmacology, Faculty of Medicine and Graduate School of Medicine, Hokkaido University, Sapporo, Japan

Image originally published with a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)

Published in Nature Communications, December 2022

You can also follow BPoD on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook

#science #biomedicine #anti-depressants #ssri #serotonin #reward pathway #neuroscience #brain #neurons #depression #mental health

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ressjeon · 1 year ago

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hallelujah the neuropharmacology quiz went well 😪😤

#personal #almost died y’all #i can finally sleep lmao 😭#but ik i won’t lmao

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pirepoumon · 3 months ago

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while job-hunting is very clearly miserable and a slog of companies who at best are still chronically ghosting candidates and potentially, yes, posting jobs they are not going to actually hire for, this "article" is barely better than an ad.

MyPerfectResume is not a reputable source, their survey is suspect immediately because "we have secret insider knowledge from recruiters, job candidates are fucked without that knowledge" is the premise of their value proposition to get you to buy their services. it is the prologue to an ad, it's SEO shit. they're creating fear to sell you a solution! it's marketing, forbes is just amplifying it unquestioningly!

their own report on their survey is written just neutrally enough to seem convincing, but i find the way they summarize their own statistics on "AI and automated tool use" as "96% of recruiters use AI even though 35% say it doesn't work" (dropping the "and automated tools," which is much broader!) as being the same approach - massaging data and framing to scare you into thinking you can't get a job on your own.... so you should use their product. these are on the same page, but the scarier/buzzword-ier one comes first!

it doesn't even specify what industries, levels of title/pay, geographical areas, or other information about the 753 recruiters they surveyed - there is no way to tell if these scary numbers apply to you at all. the author is a "career expert" (???) with a neuropharmacology PhD which has nothing to do with recruiting and frankly academia's norms and customs are often wildly out of step with most industries other than it. the website's editorial policy linked in the author bio states "We use the latest available information from official sources, like the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, and research from known and trusted sources, like major universities and the Deloitte Center for Integrated Research, among others. We will always include a direct link to research to ensure the transparency of our findings." this article clearly does not, because it is not coming from a reputable source, it appears to be a biased in-house affair and therefore suspect.

jobhunting is so so tough right now, but I wouldn't trust someone trying to sell me a solution to my woes to have the objectively, rigorously sourced and verified hypothesis as to why.

"About 81% of recruiters say that their employer posts “ghost jobs,” or positions that either don’t exist or are already filled, according to a new report from MyPerfectResume, a resume building platform. Jasmine Escalera, a career expert for MyPerfectResume, says this figure is staggering, and discouraging for candidates looking to land a new role.

“We often hear job-seekers saying, ‘I’m tired, I’m depressed, I’m desperate,’ using these very harsh words when it comes to the job market,” she says. “This is one of the reasons why they are losing faith in organizations and companies.”

Not only are recruiters fessing up to the tactic, they’re also admitting to how common it is. Around 17% say up to three quarters of their job announcements aren’t genuine, while 21.5% say ghost jobs account for half of all positions they post, 36% say a quarter of their postings are fake or already filled, and 18% of headhunters report that less than one tenth of their work advertisements aren’t real.

It may seem counterproductive for recruiters to advertise ghost jobs, theoretically wasting their own time as well as that of applicants—but there are incentives for doing so. About 38% say they post fake positions to maintain a presence on job boards when they aren’t hiring, 36% do so to assess the effectiveness of their job descriptions, 26% want to build a talent pool for the future, 26% hope gain insight into the job market and competitors, and 25% want to assess how difficult it would be to replace certain employees, according to the report. Escalera points out that a big reason for posting these jobs is recruiters wanting to improve their business’ image—nearly a quarter also say that fake jobs help their companies look as if they aren’t experiencing a hiring freeze, and one fifth say they post ghost jobs to improve the reputation of their company."

(August 19, 2024)

#ive seen this so many times and i just. i don't trust resume writing websites!#i am extremely suspicious of an industry that preys on unemployed people's desperation inherently!

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