#it's dumb when medications cause the thing they aim to treat

[rabbitindisguise]

Me: okie bedtime :)

My body: *anxiety anxiety anxiety* *nausea nausea nausea* *guilt guilt guilt* *pain pain pain*

Me: okie :( deep breath. *inhale* *exhale*

Me: >:3c it worked

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (2)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

... PREV / NEXT

...

Life in his hospital bed passes slowly while he waits for his chakra to replenish. Always a sluggish process for Kakashi. With nothing to do, nowhere to go and a significant lack of motivation to find either, there is a lot of time to think. Too much time. With what was shaping up to be the fourth great shinobi war, there was no time for reflection or resting. To suddenly have this much downtime thrust upon him is throwing him through a loop. And he doesn’t even have his periodic trips to the memorial as a distraction. If only Sakura could see him now, resting and recuperating like a good injured shinobi.

Doctor Wada, the ever-attentive physician, returns a few more times to ask more questions and offer more reassurances. He seems set on his theory that Kakashi’s yet to be properly identified quirk was the cause of his memory problems. Kakashi runs through a sweet of memory and vision tests. A baseline for later testing when his eye is healed he is told.

“The police have a few questions regarding your situation. With your permission, they would like to conduct an interview,” says Wada on Kakashi’s third day of being officially awake, “Of course, as your doctor, I have the final say in the matter so if you would rather wait just say the word.”

Kakashi gives another bland smile, “Ah, you are too kind.” Police…as in, an authority the dealt with civilian conflict? “I think I’ll answer their questions. Wouldn’t want to stall an investigation.”

He had been wondering when or if he would be investigated. How similar would it be to Kohoha’s internal police force?

“Humph. If you think you’re ready for it.”

He maintains his smile. It was as good an opportunity as any to continue gathering information with the bonus of breaking up the monotony of waiting in a hospital bed for his injuries to heal. Doctor Wada spends the rest of the check-up muttering about pushy police officers and how underappreciated his medical opinion was.

..

The two men that come to question him are wearing matching uniforms which are very telling of the sort of organisation they belong to. White and dark blue. Not made to camouflage or reinforce. Restrictive seaming around the arms, preventing any extreme movement. Their shoes are sturdy but inflexible with heavy soles. Manurable but not designed for any excessive combat. Not a uniform you would give a force intended to physically subdue threats. Whereas Konoha’s police force was comprised mainly of genin and chunin, these men were closer to civilians in pure physical ability. Ah, but he is beginning to suspect that this was the norm here. The people here were softer in a way that was hard to define. 

Kakashi watches them approach, seated upright in his bed, hands resting loose in his lap, aiming it create an impression harmlessness. One good thing to have come from agreeing to this interview was getting his own private hospital room. Now there was no one around to raise an alarm if something went wrong and he was forced to act.

“Good morning,” The older one of the two starts, politely dipping his head, “Kakashi was it?”

“Hmm,” he smiles, “Morning.” There is a pause like they are waiting for him to give his last name. He doesn’t.  

“Well,” The man clears his throat, “I am officer Takata Toyokazu, currently in charge of investigating the circumstances surrounding the assault on your person.” An ID card, very similar to Konoha’s own ID cards is presented, “This is my partner. We’re from Hosu’s Central Police and we have a few questions if you don’t mind answering them for us.”

“Ah,” Kakashi eyes the ID, lamenting the fact that his sharingan is covered under a swatch of bandages and thus inaccessible without obvious movement, “I am afraid my memory just isn’t all there. Apologies in advance if my responses are lacking.”

He lets a little humour leak into his tone. It was time to do a little prodding and gauged how this place's ‘police’ conducted their investigations.

“Yes. We were informed about your memory problems.” The two share an obvious glance and there is a definite note of scepticism there. “Nevertheless, any information would be appreciated.”

“Of course.”  He easily agrees, shrugging, projecting an air of casual nonchalance.

Takata blinks “Right,” and Kakashi can practically see his brain stalling, “Well, you were found on the corner of First and Eleventh street in Hosu’s Central Business District. Would you say this is accurate?”

Kakashi thinks for an exaggerated moment, “I do remember a lot of people. I think someone called for help?”

“You were picked up in an ambulance yes. Do you remember what happened before that?”

“Hmm, I was attacked…there were a lot of trees.” He nods like he has just delivered a useful bit of intel.

“Trees?” Is the deadpan response.

“You know…tall plants with leaves and a….”

“We know what trees are. So, you were in a place with a lot of trees before you were in Hosu’s business district.”

“Probably.”

“A park maybe? There are a few around Hosu. Do remember anything else. Distinctive landmarks?”

“Ah,” he waits for a beat, “No.”

Kakashi is the subject of a disbelieving squint. “No names. Streets. Nearby locations?”

“Nope. All gone.” He says cheerfully and Takata’s brow twitches into an irritated frown.

“You were admitted with multiple stab wounds. Do you remember how you got them?”

He shrugs, “A knife probably.”

“Well, do you remember anything about who was holding the knife?”

“OH!” The two men startle at this sudden exclamation, “It was a man.”

There are a few seconds of silence. “What did the man look like?”

“I don’t remember that bit.”

This time he gets a very obvious frown. Apparently, realising that the current line of questioning is getting them nowhere, the officer motions to his partner and is handed a large envelope. After some shuffling around, a paper file is produced and flipped upright in Kakashi’s direction. It is a photograph of kunai, shuriken, senbon, razor wire and assortment of other weaponry he carried around on his person. He had wondered what the hospital had done with his stuff.

“These are the weapons found on your person when you were admitted to hospital. All confiscated. It’s illegal to carry these sorts of thrown weapons and knives in Japan.”

He scans the photo with interest. The image has his weaponry all laid out in neat lines.

“Really?” He is not even faking his curiosity this time. No one carried around any weapons at all? That wasn’t just a trend limited to the hospital? 

“Yes.” Comes the short response, “what were you using them for.”

“Oh, I don’t remember,” he says gleefully, “How scary.” And gets another round of scowls. After doggedly refusing to give more than vague answers and misdirection, the two increasingly frustrated men prepare to leave.

“If you do remember anything, please call.” A small paper card displaying a string of numbers is presented to him. “You’ll have to come down to the station and give an official statement once the hospital clears you as well so don’t forget. We’ll  get in contact if any arrests are made regarding the perpetrator.”

Kakashi knows enough about investigations to recognise that one, the two standing next to his bed were searching for some specific information and had found Kakashi’s responses lacking, and two, they had no idea who Kakashi was and knew even less about how he might have gotten here.

In the end, they just leave. No threats. No mind games. No attempts to arrest or move him to a secure location for further questioning. Nothing. Kakashi follows after the pair, pausing behind his door to listen to the two talk just outside his room. Officer Takata is obviously angry going of his slightly uneven breathing.

“That was a waste of time,” he grumbles.

“Do you think he was lying?”

“Oh, that smiley bastard definitely knows something more than he is letting on. Tch. Memory problems my ass…”

The is a pause before the younger man asks, “still think it’s connected to that Hero Killer sighting from a few days ago?”

“If he is telling the truth then no. The stabbing lines up with the Hero Killer’s MO but the target is all wrong. There is no Kakaski with a ‘sharingan’ quirk listed on the Registry or as any Hero, Sidekick or Hero agency employee. If he did have a run-in with the Hero Killer, it wasn’t targeted. Probably annoyed the guy into stabbing him if anything.”

There is the sound of footsteps as the two men begin to retreat down the hall.

“A dead-end then.”

“Yeah, looks like it.”

“What a shame. I thought for sure, what with the extent of the injuries, that this was a Hero Killer case. Perhaps it was another Villain? Or a vigilante maybe?”

“Who though? Hosu doesn’t have any active Vigilantes or big-name Villains. Not ones who go around stabbing people to that extent. You saw the hospital report. The man was seconds away from bleeding out and that head wound was obviously aimed at disabling his quirk.”

���Tch. Without any leads, we have nothing to go on. And if Kakashi is a Villain or criminal himself, there’s no evidence and nothing we can pin him with other than a fine for carrying banned weaponry.”

The voices grow fainter as the two walk further away from his room. They seemed suspicious but not overly concerned with Kakashi’s lies so it is not a huge surprise that nothing came of the interview. Despite their obvious irritation, their response had been ones of mild annoyance and moderate distrust. If either of them had had a kekkei genkai it hadn’t been used. Perhaps, their abilities weren’t suited to interrogation. Kakashi had been obtuse enough that surely, they would have been tempted if it were a possibility. It does conform to a general trend in which people underestimate his threat level, treating him  like a civilian. It was probably for the best.

Kakashi returns to his bed and stares at the paper card with the numbers. Obviously, they expected him to know what to do with it. Something to do with communication. Probably related to the small plastic devices nearly everyone in the building carried and spoke into on occasion. A radio of some sort. He had seen a few with numbers running across them. 

From the exchange, he has a few more points to consider and mull over. Villain. Hero. Vigilante. He knows these terms, has heard people in his ward mention them before and knows they are important in some way.

…

Having a new room meant he needed to relearn everyone’s schedules.  While doing so, he finally pinpoints why the people here feel so off. They lacked a level of…weariness…vigilance…that was both hard to describe and hard to notice until it wasn’t there anymore. Kakashi eyes the young nurse as she enters his room yawning, fixing her hair up as she walks, talking over her shoulder at someone behind her.

He had always thought the civilians of Kohoha lived free from most trouble. Not completely relaxed but still having a calm enough life. Well, calm when the village wasn’t being invaded. Now, he is revaluating that opinion.  When compared with these people, Kohoha civilians were stiff, suspicious, almost paranoid. Konoha’s people had hardiness to them, a useful trait when living in a Hidden-Village. They were especially wearily when it came to interacting with shinobi no matter how banally and harmless the shinobi acted. It was an attitude to be expected when there was a very real chance of deadly injury should the shinobi be unfriendly or unstable. A very real possibility with all the war and ever-present threat of enemy invasion and chakra monster attacks.  

Or maybe that was just his own experience as he never really interacted with many civilians and he his reputation wasn’t great.

“Hello Kakashi, how are you this evening,” The nurse greets him with a relaxed grin. He gives his bland smile and watches as she checks the various medical apparatus around Kakashi’s bed.

“I talked to the ward supervisor about your television. It should be working now.”

“Is it?”

Kakashi knows what a television is…they had a few of them in T&I, used for surveillance, and for a few more for monitoring remote training grounds like 44’s Forest of Death.

“Here is the remote. There are quite a lot of channels so now you’ll have something to keep you entertained.” He stares at the metallic rectangle object. He thinks that there might be a cultural difference between his understanding of a television and the nurse’s because watching an interrogation was never something he found particularly entertaining.

“Maybe it will help jog your memory as well.” The nurse gives him an encouraging smile before returning to her work.

Kakashi examines the object, bemused, “Ah, thank you Ms.”

“My name is Iori Ie I handle this ward on weekday evenings. I’ll be happy to answer any other questions if you have any. Anything to make this transition process easier.” She is sincere in her next assurance, “Just you wait, by the time your injuries are healed, we’ll have you right back up to speed.”

Television is…interesting and somewhat baffling. It’s not that Kakashi hasn’t seen examples of this sort of technology before now, it is just the availability and use he finds strange. Whereas a sensible village might hoard any new technology of its own use, here it is distributed and shared without limit. There was one of these things in every patent’s room! The same went for the information it communicated. Information so undervalued there was almost too much of it. Kakashi gives up trying to make sense of anything a few days into gaining access to the television and its hundreds of ‘channels,’ pumping out a constant stream of information. Some of it was obviously fictional, movies, entertainment, but most of the time it was hard to tell if what he was looking at was staged or if he was misreading a cultural difference. There were ‘channels’ devoted to daily status updates, delivering ‘news’ on everything from the weather, local politics, villain attacks, general crime and everything in between.

One thing he does confirm is that he is nowhere near any hidden villages or even on the continent, maybe not even in the correct world. This place was separate. This village or city as it was called, consisted of millions in a country of billions. There were more people in ‘Hosu’ than there were in the whole Fire Country. A logistics nightmare for sure. No wonder security was so lax around the hospital. Kakashi shakes his head and ends up switching off the television. Never would he have thought that having too much intel could be a bad thing.

“Ms Iori how would I go about getting something to read,” he asks the next day. She seems to be genuinely happy about his sudden sudden request. Kakashi hasn’t spoken or interacted much since waking, to busy trying to gauge whether the people surrounding him were threats.

He ends up with a pile of old manga volumes detailing the heroic adventures of some up and coming Hero protagonist and a stack of thin ‘magazines’ belonging to the nurse’s grown up son. The magazines are full of Hero analysis, speculation, and rumour like some sort of super detailed self-defeating bingo-book.  He just…doesn’t understand why anyone would let this sort of information circulate.

At least now he has a better idea about what a Hero and Villain was. A Hero was this word’s shinobi equivalent- if shinobi went out of their way to draw attention to themselves- acting more like a police force in that they managed threats to civilians instead of taking commissions and repelling external threats. Actually, they were nothing like Shinobi apart from their use of blood line abilities in combat. A Villain was like a missing-nin, hiding among the ridiculously large civilian population…sort of…

He needs to start working on a way home because he definitely doesn't understand this world.

...

NOTE: When Kakashi discovers the internet his brain will explode. 

PREV / NEXT

[bigskydreaming]

TFW you realize you relate more to a fave character than you ever actually consciously realized, lmao. 

So I was just having a remote therapy session, and we were focusing on just some mental pain management techniques since my stupid metabolism makes most pain meds largely useless and my head has been waging all out warfare on me for the past week and a half, lololol. And we were delving into one of my personal fave rants, which is the fact that so many people - including vaunted medical professionals - just fundamentally don’t seem to get that having a high pain tolerance does not mean you don’t like, FEEL pain unless its really a lot or intense. Its just that you’re hard-wired/trained/geared via stuff like an abusive childhood, lol, to not SHOW or DISPLAY any visible or audible pain cues unless the pain reaches a certain high threshold where its impossible to hold them back.

But particularly over the past four or five years, with my ongoing medical shit, its super obnoxious trying to get your doctors to display a sense of urgency about your condition because they’re just fundamentally not grasping the degree of chronic pain you’re dealing with every day, since, y’know....I can literally be sitting there in the doctor’s chair and conversationally talking about the fact that no, I definitely am currently feeling like, an eight or nine out of ten on the pain scale, please don’t be confused by the fact that I’m literally LOLing as I describe this to you rather than gasping and moaning in a more obvious indication of it. 

Its like, I’m not TRYING to undersell it or anything, its just, when you grow up since the time you’re like five or six years old, knowing damn well that the only appropriate response to someone asking ‘oh am I hurting you’ that won’t earn you MORE pain is a completely casual or cavalier sounding ‘nope, I’m fine, all good here, no problems.’......like, at a certain point in your development, that becomes pretty hard-wired in, like, you can’t shake it just because you consciously WANT to. (Though it is one of the things I’m trying to unlearn and ‘rewire’ in therapy now, via EMDR techniques aimed at like, literally reprogramming my nervous system and how I react to various stimuli. Its.....slow progress, lmao, but I mean there is some progress so its all good).

But point being, when you’re a physically abused kid and your physical abuser doesn’t want to believe or accept that they’re hurting you, and so they tended to just get angrier and MORE dangerous if they thought you were indicating or even just ‘implying’ that they were in fact hurting you.....you get pretty damn good at not showing even the slightest hint of pain or distress unless its literally a level you’ve never experienced before and thus have no practical experience in hiding or distracting yourself from.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t FEEL every bit of it. It doesn’t mean you’ve found a magical off-switch that means you can just mind-over-body yourself from acknowledging or being aware that you are in fact in a shit ton of pain. You just.....have learned the importance of masking it, and found ways to do that by necessity.

Except, even much later in life when you are in a safe place or more control of your situations or surroundings, there’s no easy way to just....stop putting that mask on by default, the second you’re experiencing any type of pain. And so even when dealing with medical professionals, too many of them just don’t GET that their vaunted ‘tell me how much pain you’re in from one to ten’ scale isn’t really the be-all and end-all of pain measurement, because its subjective and arbitrary as HELLLLLLLLL.....and one of the defining parameters for what that pain scale looks like and feels like for YOU, is....your personal history with pain and how you’re ‘comfortable’ displaying evidence of it. (And I know there’s a ton of people and even groups of people who can relate to this for entirely different reasons, I just can only speak to my own of course). 

But its definitely frustrating and invalidating as hell to be in more pain than many people ever experience in their lives, and TRYING to convey that as openly and honestly as you can.....and literally being able to SEE the doubt and dismissal in doctors’ eyes, because all they’re seeing is the visual cues you’re putting out there and which they equate to ‘can’t possibly be in THAT much pain, not if he’s acting this casual about it’.....

And so the frustrating irony is that you end up dismissed as like, a pain ‘lightweight’ who is complaining about an apparent degree of pain that’s barely anything in their ‘professional’ estimation. And thus they’re disinclined to take your requests for heavier or more effective pain medication seriously, or not impressed by your attempts to imbue a greater sense of urgency in their approach to your treatment plan or procedures, etc......when in reality, the only reason you’re showing those cues of not being in that much pain is because you’re MORE used to and familiar with even extremely high degrees of pain than anything a lot of them are accustomed to.

Its invalidating as hell, being treated as though you have no idea what you’re talking about when you say “I am actually in a shit ton of active, ongoing pain, hey thanks, can we maybe do something about this,” when actually, the disconnect comes from you having MORE experience with MORE pain than some of them can even fathom. You just....also have more experience with reasons not to SHOW that pain, if its at all avoidable to any degree whatsoever.

THAT’S what high pain tolerance actually means, and the sheer volume of medical professionals who just flat out don’t get this, or worse, just don’t care or are too proud to reassess their viewpoints on this matter if that carries the implication they don’t actually know as much as they think they do......god, it grates.

(Once, when I was around twenty-three or twenty-four I think, I got caught up in the periphery of a bar fight that resulted in me getting a shard of glass embedded in the back of my forearm. Still have a pretty sizable scar from it. And it absolutely hurt like fuck, but I was conscious as paramedics arrived on scene and when going to the hospital to have it removed and stitched up, and like......kinda cracking jokes about it the whole time because I was uncomfortable as hell and didn’t really know what else to do or how to react, y’know? I mean, I had a few inches of glasses jutting out from the top of my forearm, lol, what the hell are you supposed to do or say about that? There’s not really a protocol, lmao. Problem was, they took one look at me sitting there with this spear of glass sticking out of my arm and making dumb jokes about it like it was no big deal......and they decided this meant I was in shock and kept trying to treat me accordingly. And it was just like.....useless, because lol no I wasn’t in shock, I had none of the physical symptoms of being in shock and benefited from none of their assumptions that I was.....I was just a dude with a shard of glass in his arm that hurt like fuck and I really wanted it out as soon as possible, and I was in full awareness of what had happened and everything I was feeling, I just didn’t know how to convey this in a way that they would believe, because I couldn’t come up with anything to say or do other than laugh about how fucking surreal the whole situation was.)

Anyway, so circling back to the point, or as much of one as I ever have, so today I was just learning and practicing various mental pain management/coping techniques with my therapist and discussing my issues with doctors and the High Pain Tolerance Quandary. Basically like, I would really truly like to know or learn how to display the ‘expected’ physical and visual/audio cues for being a person who is experiencing a ‘4′ on the pain scale, versus a person who is experiencing a ‘7′ or a ‘10′.....so they can stop fucking treating me like I’m only at a 4 when I’m actually at an 8 or 9, just because I look and sound like a person who really is only at a 4 no matter what they actually CLAIM to be feeling.

Course, easier said than done.

But yeah, so as she was coaching me through various techniques and surveying what I was doing with my body and facial expressions and cues, etc, she pointed out something that I had literally never noticed about myself before, even though once she DID point it out I could recognize that its something I’ve been doing for as long as I can remember, well back before I was ten and no doubt stemming from smack dab in the midst of the worst of my childhood abuse.

So, y’know on Teen Wolf, how Scott and Liam and various others are at times shown digging their claws into their palms and drawing blood to ground themselves with the pain? (And ironically, how I was just talking the other week about photo doubling for a similar such scene with gashes in the character’s palms, lmfao). Well, obviously I don’t have claws, and part of why I’d never really paid much attention to when I was doing it is because even my therapist wasn’t comfortable classifying it as a kind of self-harm or anywhere near punitive enough to carry that kind of weight or associations.....

But like, I’ve always kept my fingernails fairly trimmed but not completely. Like, just enough of an edge to them that at times, particularly when I’m in physical pain or distress already, I’ll just like....dig my fingernails into the pad of other fingertips, and use that little familiar spike of pain to not ground myself but rather distract myself from whatever else I was feeling. Like, she wasn’t comfortable calling it a self-punitive technique because as we got into it, it was clear I was never doing it to CAUSE myself pain....rather, its something I only do when I’m already in pain, usually far more pain than anything that brings up.....but by deliberately doing that and creating a focal awareness around it, even just a largely subconscious one......I’ve apparently long been using that to hook my attention up to a very specific, very manageable sensation/focal point of pain that lets me and my ADHD brain relegate whatever other pain I’m feeling (even if its much much worse) to the back of my mind for at least a little while, as I distract myself by focusing on this more obvious and consciously directed bit of lesser pain. 

And a big part of why I probably never noticed I was doing this, we eventually concluded, is because as a kid I probably came up with it as a kind of survival technique specifically BECAUSE it was something I could do to distract myself/manage my pain covertly, without drawing my abuser’s attention to what I was doing either. And by extension, without the fact that I was doing it at all 'betraying’ that I was in pain or trying to manage or cope with painful sensations in the first place. A lot of other pain management techniques, like even just deep, deliberate breaths, tend to be a lot more obvious and noticeable, and thus would have been counter-productive for my specific purposes. No matter how much they helped me manage whatever physical pain I was feeling, they would have at the same time inevitably drawn attention to the fact that I was trying to do that at all in the first place....and thus only invite more pain. 

Merely digging my fingernails into my fingertip pads, not enough to draw blood or make me cry out or anything like that, but rather just to distract myself and deliberately focus me on a source of pain I could deal with and more easily handle, as well as being ‘low in intensity’ enough that focusing on it didn’t bring any other obvious visual or audio pain cues to the forefront.....that I could do without anyone noticing. And thus this is likely why it came to be my go-to move whenever I was in any kind of pain at all, as just a quick and easy way to wrap my head around my physical sensations and shift focus to something more easily dealt with or managed (even if it didn’t actually dismiss or get rid of whatever other pain I’m feeling entirely). And just the low-key nature of it in general likely being a big part of why it became such an unconscious instinct for me until now, something that barely even registered in my conscious mind as I built up/hard-wired instinctive responses that incorporated it without me having to consciously direct myself to do that.

I mean, its still obviously not an ideal response, especially when I’m long past being stuck in any kind of external situations or need to fall back on that and the covert nature of it. So now its another of those things to just be aware of and work on rewiring on an instinctive level, making it a priority for me to focus on consciously using more helpful and positive methods of pain management.

But it was just interesting to me to have it pointed out as something I’ve been doing all this time, let alone being as unaware of doing it as I’ve apparently been. And its not hard to draw obvious parallels to when characters in media I consume do similar things even if for not quite the same reasons or in quite the same ways. So now I’m just kinda contemplating that and wondering how much even just some degree of unconscious awareness that I do that might have made me more alert to when characters or other people do similar things. Made me more attuned to noticing or even fixating on moments when they do things like that, that I related to even on an entirely subconscious level.

*Shrugs* Anyway, that’s all, like, literally not going anywhere with this, was just unwinding and felt like mapping my way through that all contemplatively, because oh no, inexplicable strangeness, therapy puts me in particularly contemplative headspaces, whodathunkit, lmfao. *Shrugs* Just struck me as particularly interesting, so felt like sharing for anyone else who can relate/see similar parallels themselves.

Or just chalk it up to random anecdotal wtf-ery from your friendly (err, mostly. okay sometimes. FINE ideally, let’s go with that) neighborhood over-sharer. 

[stilloutofmyvulcanmind]

It Takes Two Part 3

Requested by @verdonafrost

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Female!Reader

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Reader, Troy North (OC), Curt Roman (OC)

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Canon-typical themes and violence, angst, Bruce being a dick

Summary: January is nearly over and you’ve yet to collect the evidence you need to take down the Torn Roses for good. With time running out, a late-night reconnaissance leads to some unexpected events and a decision that could change your life.

Part 3 of 6

Part 1  Part 2  Part 4 

The night was dry but cold. The rooftop you lurked on still covered in January snow, making you glad of the insulated suit. Bruce would kill you if he knew you were here. 

After weeks of you working well together, the night had resulted in an argument once again. It seemed your belief that he'd finally learned to trust your instincts was wrong. It was the end of the month, and despite Roman not showing any signs of leaving, something in your gut was telling you otherwise. Bruce had dismissed it, citing the lack of evidence. 

You'd argued, and eventually, you'd stormed off on your own, switching off the coms to stop his bitching. Of course he could've followed you. The tracker was still active, but you'd been sitting here long enough to presume that wasn't going to happen. Maybe he'd decided to let you have space. Or maybe he just really didn't care. 

Boy did that thought hurt. 

You'd never admit it, but after the last few weeks, the things you'd felt for Bruce had started to change. You'd always known you were similar, but he'd actually opened up since New Year's Eve and seeing that softer side to him, the one he kept hidden away from everyone…

You'd been dumb enough to think that Bruce had felt the same way. There had been times when you'd caught him looking at you and for a moment had been sure you saw your own developing feelings reflected back. 

But if he did, if that was true, then surely he'd have listened to you? Or at least not immediately dismiss you? What did that say about the kind of relationship you'd have? You couldn't be with someone who treated you like a child who didn't know better. 

Movement inside the building you were watching distracted you. 

The whole building belonged to Roman, the lower floors rented out, but the penthouse remained his. The cover was that he used it to take one night stands back to, but you'd discovered its secret use of meetings with North. They were both in there now, you could see them through the tall glass windows, along with the hoard of security both of them traveled with. 

They'd been talking for several hours and still were. The movement that caught your attention was by two of the guards. They were carrying suitcases. Roman's suitcases. 

Was he leaving? Tonight? Shit. 

Going on instinct, you grappled to the side of the building, grabbing onto the edge of the balcony outside one of the bedrooms. Pulling yourself up a little, you got a look inside. Dark. And empty. Perfect. You hoisted yourself over the balcony rail, landing silently. There were no cameras out there. No need. It was high enough up that no normal person could climb it. No alarm on the glass door leading inside either. You picked the lock easily, sliding the door open and creeping inside. 

You could hear voices as you approached the bedroom door, but they were still slightly too muffled. Pressing a button on the arm of your gauntlet, you spread your hand over the door, the finger pads glowing dark purple as the tech picked up the audio. 

"-thing ready?" North's voice spoke in your ear. 

"Nearly, sir. These are the last two pieces of luggage, and we'll be ready to go, Mr. Roman."

"Excellent," Roman spoke and you had to fight the urge not to throw up. "I can't wait to get out of this godforsaken city again."

North laughed, "I'm almost jealous. I miss the sun."

"When the time is right, you can join me. In the meantime, you know what to do with the computers?" 

"Yeah. Delete everything that could connect you, destroy them, and burn the place down. We have the decoy in the master bedroom. The official report will state an electrical fault caused a fire, killing you in your sleep."

"Good. That'll throw the Bats off their game a little. They've been getting too close recently."

If North said anything else, you'd didn't hear. You pulled away from the door, making your way back out into the night. Roman was leaving tonight and faking his own death. Any chance of getting justice would be gone. You couldn't let that happen. 

It was easy, moving around the sides of the building until you found the office. You wanted to stop Roman, but you needed that information first. You couldn't risk someone managing to damage the computers in a fight. 

There was thankfully a small window leading into the office that you were able to pry open and squeeze through. A laptop and a desktop PC was sitting on the desk, both locked naturally. Not a problem. 

It wasn't difficult to hack both, your eyes widening when you accessed the litany of files on them. You'd already had enough to take down North for good and to get Roman arrested, but not enough to put him away permanently. With this though...you could destroy the entire operation in one strike. Pulling a USB from your belt, you plugged it in and copied everything from both computers onto it. You hadn't expected him to keep such sensitive info here, but maybe that's exactly why he did. 

You moved back to the door, listening through it once more. They were still there, but getting ready to leave. You contemplated signaling Bruce for backup. But by the time he got here they'd be gone, and that'd make it all the trickier. And a part of you wanted to do this by yourself, prove to him that you were more than capable. You did message Gordon with your location though and told him to get there with cops ASAP. 

You straightened, pulling a smoke grenade from your belt. From your observations outside there were seven other men in the room besides Roman and North. All armed you had to presume. You'd need to be quick. 

Footsteps approached and stopped outside the door. 

Now or never. 

You opened the door, throwing the grenade into the room as you grabbed the man in front of you and took him down. Smoke filled the room in the same instant as guns began to fire. You grunted in pain when a bullet hit your chest, lodging itself into the armor. That was going to bruise. 

Moving quickly in the smoke, you dodged the rest and downed each guard. The barrel of a gun pressed to your head. You ducked, turning, the crack of an arm breaking and North yelling echoing around the living room. Bringing your fist to his face, he slumped to the floor unconscious. 

The smoke was starting to clear. A single shot sent you stumbling as it hit you square in the back. Spinning around, Roman was the only one left standing, aiming a pistol at you. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, you grabbed a Batarang, throwing it through the air and watching it lodge in his hand. He screamed and the gun clattered down. You followed swiftly after the Batarang, leaping over the fancy coffee table, and landing a punch to his gut. Roman doubled over and you brought an elbow down on his back, sending him to the floor. 

You were on him in a flash, fists coming down over and over. Blood streamed from his nose as the cartridge crunched and broke under the impacts. 

Finally. After years of pain and waiting you had him. Anger, hate, grief, flooded your system. God, you wanted him dead. Wanted to keep punching until he stopped moving under you. He deserved it. After all the pain and suffering he'd caused to you and Gotham. 

Justice, not vengeance. 

You heard Bruce's voice in your head. You'd never killed but that had still been the first lesson he'd taught you. The one he'd repeat when some scumbag got under your skin a little too much. The one you'd come to understand, to follow, no matter how much your anger roared otherwise. 

You pulled back, flipping Roman's unconscious body onto his stomach and tying his hands securely behind his back. You repeated the process on all the others. A glance at the time said Gordon would be here any moment. 

A muffled shout came from the master bedroom. Leaping over the sofa, you unlocked the door and entered. Tied to the bed were two people. A man and a woman. The man didn't look too much like Roman, but he shared his build, and after a fire, you could see how he could be mistaken for Roman. Especially once a few palms were greased. The woman was attractive, someone you'd come to know Roman would be attracted to. Another part of the ploy.

"It's okay, you're safe now," you said softly, removing their gags and making short work of their bonds. "The police will be here soon."

As if on cue, the door burst in and Gordon and several uniformed officers came barging in, guns drawn. 

Gordon looked around the disaster area, spotting Roman groaning weakly. "Curt Roman? The hell is goin' on here?!" He asked, lowering his weapon as you approached. 

You pointed at two cops and gestured to the bedroom first, "There are civilians in there that may need medical attention," you said, before turning your attention to Gordon. "Curt Roman is the secret leader of the gang The Torn Rose. Mr. North here," you nudged North with your boot, "is his frontman, but Roman is the brains of the operation."

Gordon frowned at your explanation, "You got evidence of this?" 

"This way, Commissioner." You led him to the office where the computers were still intact and showed him all the files. 

"Jesus. They're responsible for half the drug trafficking in the City."

"Yeah."

Gordon stood straight and looked at you. "Thank you. We'll take it from here."

"Good. Make sure they all go away for a long time. They've hurt a lot of people."

"I will." Exiting the office you watched as Roman and North were hauled away in cuffs. "Gotta say it was a surprise to get the alert from you and not Batman," Gordon went on. "Even more of a surprise that he ain't here with you."

"I've been shadowing him a year now. About time I took on my own cases, wouldn't you say?" 

"Never figured him to be someone who's okay with letting someone else take charge, but I guess you know him better than I do."

You wished you could say that was true. 

The rest of the guards were escorted out, and the relief you'd felt was slowly being replaced with dread creeping up your spine. Bruce would've heard about this by now. Honestly, a part of you was surprised he hadn't shown up anyway. But it meant he'd be in the cave. Waiting for you to get back. With luck, he'd actually be happy you'd taken the whole gang down. 

Yeah right. 

~

"What the hell do you think you were doing?!" Bruce yelled the second you stepped foot into the cave.

"Oh, I don't know, taking down an entire crime ring perhaps? You know, the one you promised to help me with?" Arms crossed over your chest, you stared Bruce down, unwilling to back down or apologize. 

"I was helping! You're the one deviated from the plan!" 

"Because Roman was leaving! I have the audio to prove it!" 

Bruce's jaw clenched for a second. "Congratulations. You got one man. Who'll be out of jail in a week because we don't have the evidence to put him away for good! Then he really will leave and we'll be back to square one!" 

You flung the USB drive across the gap. Bruce caught it easily. "That's a copy of everything on their computers. Computers now in Gordon's possession. I'm pretty sure what's on there is enough to send Roman, North, and every single person involved down for a couple lifetimes! I know because I checked. Before I took them down."

You watched as Bruce put the USB into the computer, and flicked through all the documents and information. He was silent for a minute.

Bruce clicked off and turned back to face you. If he was feeling remorse, it didn't show on his face. "Good. They'll get what they deserve."

"That it?" 

"What else do you want me to say? You still deviated from my orders, and not only that, you went into a dangerous situation alone, without even as much as alerting me!" 

You scoffed. "So I'm still in the wrong? If you were so concerned why didn't you show up when you heard the police radio?" 

"That wouldn't exactly look good for the unified front we've been putting on would it?" 

You rolled your eyes, the action hidden behind the lens of your cowl. 

"You're benched."

The cave seemed to fall silent at Bruce's words. 

"What?" 

"You're benched, Y/N, until I know I can trust you."

You scoffed, "You can't trust me? We've been together a year."

"Yet you still went behind my back. And I heard the state on Roman. We both know he's no fighter. You lost control. You could've killed him."

"Could've, but didn't. You know what he did!" 

"I do, but we can't let our emotions dictate how we act. You chose to enact your vengeance, and that's not what we do. You should know better by now."

"Bastard," you spat, coming to a decision. 

Bruce actually looked surprised. 

The sound of your cowl rolling across the floor echoed around the cave until it stopped by Bruce's feet. 

He looked at it, then at you, and frowned. "What?" 

"I quit."

Like what you read? Consider buying me a coffee! (I’ll love you forever!)

Tagging: @medicatemedrmccoy @bkwrm523 @theweepingvulcan91 @sagyunaro @huntersstuff591 @notsohappysunflower @quoththe-raven @startrekstartrash @thatanonymouschocolate @malaanii @everyday-imfangirling @evanstanfanatic @bookcaseninja @uneniffler 

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Of Dust and Ashes (chapter 9)

I’ve survived Plague, mountains of laundry and more to bring to you this week’s update. Yes, I’m being dramatic but only a little bit. Honest. 

Chapter warnings: Blood. Gore. Death. Blood and gore. Gun violence. 

~~~~~<3

Chapter Nine: Kansas City

Day 39 Post Decimation

It seemed like this was going to be the beginning of the end for Deanna. That was alright, she decided. Her only regret would be that she didn’t have her children’s stuffed animal and blanket in her arms when she was to die. That would have offered her a small measure of comfort. It didn’t matter, she would be with them again soon.

Without warning, the man holding her staggered back with a shout. It took her a moment to process the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. It only registered when a second joined it an instant later. Arrows were so unexpected. Gun shots were common place but an arrow?

“Leave her alone!” A voice shouted from across the street, slightly gravely and deep. It surprised her that she could even hear it, yet it held an air of authority that seemed to power it across the distance.

Trust was at her side, a snarling and bloody mess but looking somehow no worse for wear. The man, this one with short cropped brown hair and a nasty red scar down the side of his face grabbed at her only to have trust waste not even a moment lunging at him. It was clear as he fell back that he regretted the move instantly. Sharp jaws sank into the flesh of his arm as the large dog put all his weight into ripping his head back and forth, severing arteries in the process. Blood poured from the man’s arm as he fell to the ground, Trust still growling with it clutched between his jaws. The blood was mixing with his saliva, turning almost to a foam as it each breath bubbled out.

Deanna staggered along the side of the truck, toward where the gun had fallen in the confusion. While she would have preferred to be able to say she leaned down to pick it up, that wasn’t the case. Her knees gave out when she tried. With a shift of her weight, she landed in a heap next to the gun. It took two tries to pick it up but she managed just as a shadow fell over her.

Time has a funny way of slowing down when adrenaline floods the body. Shadows seem sharper, the sky crisper and you just notice things that you otherwise wouldn’t. Deanna noticed the groves in the handle of the gun for the first time. The cut into her hand, hurting as she gripped it far tighter than needed. As her gaze swept out and over the asphalt and up toward the man towering over her, she noticed things like the small weeds growing in the cracks.

The man’s jeans were dirty and most likely stiff with wear and lack of proper washing both. His shirt had dark stains on it that she wanted to believe were not from blood. Behind him, she could see Trust growling at a group of men as they leveled a gun toward him. Farther in the distance, she saw a woman run out into the street, a man chasing her. He caught her with little struggle and put a bullet into her head, ending her life as if it were worth nothing more than the gravel on the ground.

The heartbeat passed and her eyes locked on the man’s as he pulled his leg back. It was now or never. There wouldn’t be another chance. A deep breath in and calmly exhaled steeled her as she pulled the trigger and Deanna claimed a second life. As he fell back with a large portion of his head missing, he didn’t die instantly. Upon hitting the ground, he turned and crawled away as she watched in amazement. Blood poured from the red mess of his head and she could clearly see the where his skull had been ripped away.

Behind him, an arrow took down one man and then another but she paid it little mind. Her stomach was rolling at the sight in front of her. The man turned to look at her, panic clear in the one eye that still remained. Blood covered a large portion of his face but the one remaining eye was wild. Deanna wondered if she was seeing his brain, covered in wild red rivers of blood but decided not to think about it. It was better not to think about it.

A few months ago a man could have hope, though slim of surviving injuries such as this. He wouldn’t have been the first to do so with proper and prompt medical care. But times were different now. Where would he go? Who would take them there? It wasn’t as if she could just drive him to the local hospital to receive treatment.

If she were to take him to a hospital, would there be doctors there still to treat him? Was the hospital even powered? This wasn’t the old way of the world. There wasn’t a centralized civilization that would aid him.

She slowly lifted her gun up and pointed it at him. In the distance, what men were not taken down by arrow or dog where running. The gory scene unfolding in front of her was enough to scare them away when paired with how they found themselves being cut down. Absently, she heard the footfalls of a man running toward her as Trust raced to her side, hackles still raised.

The next time she pulled the trigger, it hit the bloody man’s torso. A garbled scream ripped from him as she adjusted her aim and fired again, hitting him in the neck as his body seemed to slow. It was probably due to the loss of blood but his final movements looked as if he were crawling through a vat of molasses. The sound of the shots echoed around her as it all seemed to end.

“Are you okay?”

Turning her head from the red mess that had once been a living human and now was not due to actions of no one but herself, she looked toward the front of the truck. All that had happened and she had hardly made it out from in front of the store. He wasn’t as tall as most, but his frame was strong just the same. With his hands raised next to his head in a gesture of no ill will, she could just a hint of the power held within his arms. Peeking up from behind his back, oddly enough was a quiver full of arrows and a bow.

“Why did you help me?” The gun felt too heavy as the adrenaline left her system nearly as quickly as it had flooded her veins. Her arm shook with the effort of holding the gun now pointed at this new man.

“It wasn’t a fair fight.” Slowly, she lowered the gun and he lowered his hands. It boggled her mind that anyone in this new world would give a shit about something as small as something being a ‘fair fight’. “Are you okay?”

“I think so, yeah.” Trust was starting to calm. The large dog was no longer outright aggressive but still her companion watched the man with a careful eye as he slowly approached. When he offered his hand to her, she sat looking dumbly at him. It was a rarity to be offered any kindness and her first question was naturally of his motives.

“This is when you take my hand and I help you up.” He clarified as if she was too dumb to figure that much out. It was so jarring to see a kindness offered while surrounded by the carnage of what had happened so quickly.

After a slight hesitation, she took his hand. It was large and warm as his fingers wrapped around hers. There was a comfort in the strength of his grip, firm but not painful that made her wonder when she had actually last touched another human being in kindness. It seemed a lifetime ago. Perhaps it was.

He pulled her to her feet in a fluid motion as if she had weighed nearly nothing. It was clear as day that he was strong even as he offered her a gentle smile. Just who was he though? And what did he want? A strong man like him, clearly able to protect himself had to have a reason to help her. There had to be something more than ‘it wasn’t a fair fight’. The questions flew out of her mind however as soon as she put weight on her right foot.

It buckled under her weight and she tilted forward on instinct, reaching out for something to steady herself as the pain caused black to claw at the edges of her vision. What she grabbed however happened to be him.

“Whoa, you okay there?” His words floated away from her, carried on the back of the pain even as it quickly subsided. It occurred to her that one of her hands was tangled in his shit, against his warm chest. The other was gripping his bicep and if not for the pain, she may have actually swooned.

The children’s father wasn’t ugly by any means but he wasn’t in shape either. She hadn’t been with another man in the year since she had left him. It was lonely being a single mother but she had been so focused on being the best mother she could be for the children during the difficult time that the thought of dating again was terrifying.

“Sit down, let me take a look at it?” His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Nodding, she let him help her to the ground. With careful hands and a soft touch, he untied her shoe and worked it off. The joint was tender and swelling quickly.

She couldn’t help but ask, “Who are you?”

“Clint.” He mumbled. “Clint Barton. It looks sprained.”

“The Avenger?” She flinched as he slowly rotated her foot, examining it as if he was a doctor.

“Ex. You’re going to need to wrap it and ice it.”

“You were my kids favorite.”

“Were? Who’s their favorite now? Thor?” Clint smiled at her but she could see the sadness in his eyes. He was a man haunted, just like everyone else left behind.

“No one. They’re gone now.”

“I’m sorry.” He softly spoke, not looking up at her. His shoulders sagged as if a weight crashed against them. “My family was dusted too.” Deanna didn’t correct him.

“I’m Deanna.”

“Well Dee, I’m going to see if I can find something to wrap that ankle with. Then I’ll load up the truck and we’ll get out of here.”

“We?” She asked as he stood.

“Well, you can’t drive. We may have scared them off for now but I wouldn’t be surprised if they come back within a few hours.” His eyes roamed around their surroundings as he spoke. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. It was a struggle to pull herself up, putting all of her weight on her one good foot and holding the other a few short inches off the ground. Carefully she lowered it only to jerk it back up again when pain shot through the joint instantly.

Trust watched carefully as she hobbled slowly around to the bed of the truck where she sat, feet dangling down. While she didn’t know if she could trust Clint, everyone was different in this new world after all, she quickly came to understand that she had no choice.

“Oh good, you’re already sitting.” He jogged out of the store, sun bleached brown hair shining golden in the light. As he slowed, he ripped open one of the small boxes of elastic bandages in his arms. When the brown roll was freed, he wasted no time kneeling in front of her. “That’s a fine dog you’ve got with you.”

“I don’t know what his name is. I just call him Trust.” It was painful as he set to work wrapping her ankle. She didn’t want to look weak. She didn’t want to look vulnerable. In this new world, it could be death to show weakness.

“He’s a good dog. Saved your life.” After securing the bandage, Clint set to work on loosening the shoe and slowly working it over her foot.

“You saved my life.” Deanna countered as he shrugged his shoulders. “Why?”

“Like I said, it wasn’t a fair fight.” She didn’t press and instead watched him carefully as he stood and looked around before disappearing around the front.

She couldn’t see it, but she felt the truck rock as he pulled open the passenger door. Carefully, she began sliding herself off the tailgate as he came back around.

“What are you doing?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. A rather undignified squawk slipped out of her before she could stop it as his arm slipped behind her knees. It took no effort at all for him to sweep her literally off her feet.

In this world where no one is what they seem, she half expected to fall back and crash against the truck and discover he was just as terrible as the men lying dead all around them. Instead of the truck, her back collided with his arm and she was swept up against his chest.

“What are you doing?”

“Sweeping you off your feet, Dee.” Clint offered a charming smile, his blue eyes sparkling as if they were in the world before. His laugh was warm and she could feel it in his chest. “I’m carrying you to the passenger seat. You can’t drive, you can’t walk. So sit pretty and wait for me to load your stuff up.”

She really didn’t have any other option but to do just that. Trust seemed fond of the man at least. In the mirrors she would catch a glimpse of Clint patting the dog’s head or throwing a ball he must have taken from inside for Trust to quickly fetch, tail wagging. The truck shifted and rocked as heavy bags were loaded. She couldn’t see him well as he worked and that made her nervous. All she could do was trust him and that was something she found herself having a hard time doing. The fact remained, she was at his mercy with a hurt ankle and so she did the only thing she could do- she closed her eyes so she didn’t have to continue to see the bodies surrounding them.

The truck rocked as Clint tossed bags of dog food into the bed. She willed herself to relax as he loaded bags and boxes into the back. It must have worked because the next thing she knew her shoulder was being nudged. The sudden contact woke her with a start, causing her to jerk her knees up and curl in on herself. The action resulted in her jerking her ankle as well and the flash on white hot pain brought her back to the moment.

“Sorry, sorry!” Clint held his hands up in pleading, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just don’t know where to take you. So, how do we get to your house?”

“I don’t have a house.” she mumbled as Clint turned the key and brought the truck to life. Trust was nestled on the bench seat in the back, clearly trusting Clint as much as he had trusted me.

“Just passing through, then?” He commented, pulling out of the parking lot as she tried to avoid looking at the gore they were leaving behind.

“Just passing though.” She agreed. For a moment Dee sat in silence before giving out directions and trying her best to explain where the roadblock was between the place on the highway and where her home was parked. Luck would have it, Clint knew the area and promised it was just a matter of time before he found a way around so that she wouldn’t have to walk at all.

“So, you don’t live out of this truck.” Clint commented.

“What makes you say that.” She tensed up though she knew it was unreasonable.

“You don’t have any supplies with the exception of what you got today and what’s in your backpack, for starters. Plus this truck is new- nearly no miles but you’re clearly not from around here.”

“Valid points.” Clint laughed and there- just under the surface Deanna could almost see the warmth of the man that be must have been before the decimation. “I’ve got a RV we live in.”

“Sweet idea. How’s that working out?” Clint sounded a bit excited. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“Pretty good. I can’t take credit- someone else helped me get it going.”

“Where are they?” Clint asked, turning on a side road. Deanna could see the highway in the distance, they were driving along side it almost.

“He died.”

“I’m sorry. A lot of that seems to be going around.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Deanna looked down at her hands.

“What will you do now?” Clint glanced over at her. “You can’t drive it so are you going to stay put or try and move on?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I? Until I can drive- I can’t leave. How long do you think it will take?” Clint hummed as he thought. “I mean- I know you’re not a doctor. At least, I don’t think you are. Were.”

“Probably a good four weeks until you can drive short distances, longer until you can walk and stuff without pain. Depends on how bad it is.”

“I wonder how bad it is?” She asked, not really sure what she expected as an answer.

“Looked pretty bad, to be honest.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you.” Deanna leaned back and closed her eyes. The realization that she would be a sitting duck and likely dead within the week washed over her.

“What do you want to do?” Clint offered after a moment of silence. “We could, you know, team up? Even just for a bit?”

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @tnystrk-exe, @usedtobegoodfriend96, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @toozmanykids, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @winterisakiller, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @carissime72

[sarapii-peachy]

Embers

Pairing: Hyuk/Reader, brief OT6

Request: [anon] Hyuk firefighter!au 

Wordcount: 2,711

Notes: STALKING, CHARACTER DEATH. <-- please take care if you are sensitive to this type of material. I hope you all had a lovely Christmas! I’m officially on winter break and enjoying my free time with some vixx ;D and writing for my personal projects. This is the last request from the last batch so have at me in my ask box! Just make sure to read my rules. Enjoy!

ϟ HYUK

She swore under her breath as the icy December air cut through the fabric of her jacket, scarf, and sweater, her layers of supposedly warm clothing futile against the winder winds. She balanced a cardboard box in her arms, her knit beanie itching at her scalp, nose running and hands red and chapped.

Today of all days had to be when the elevator of her new apartment building had to be closed for scheduled maintenance. Sub zero temperatures and icy roads making the process all the more miserable and time consuming

That is until a tall boy with dark hair and skin kissed with warm summer sun scoops up a box placed at the foot of her car.

“Here, lemme help you out.” He says.

She has no time to argue as a sudden gust of wind causes both of them to wince and act as an incentive to start hauling ass inside. They move quickly, carrying box after box up and down the flights of stairs until all of her things are at least out of the snow.

“Th-thanks,” she stutters, her lips numb with the cold. He smiles, cheeks rosy and pink and she feels her breath catch a bit. “Do you live around here?” she asks him.

“Yeah, in this complex actually.”

“Oh, me too.” She replies stupidly and he chuckles.

“Do you need help moving your stuff inside your room?”

**

It’s rather embarrassing, the amount of boxes she has. Her first real apartment after college and she had found this place nestled right in the city, the rent a bit high and the commute to work farther than she would have liked, but it was worth it for her sense of freedom, now having successfully moved out of her parents’ house and out into the world on her own two feet.

Surprisingly, Sanghyuk lives just next door. He was a godsend, his long arms helping her carry her things with ease.

“Nice fire escape you got here,” he smiles, setting down a box and walking over to the window that opened out to the metal balcony veined with staircases.

“Yeah,” she snorts, “helping me escape fires and all. Though, I’ll really enjoy being able to spy on my neighbors at 3am.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Sanghyuk laughs again. She kicks the door shut with the back of her foot, the last of the boxes now safely in her apartment.

“What’s so interesting to you about public safety?” she teases him.

“Well, I’m a fireman.” he says.

“Oh?” she replies back. She busies herself by shelving her books, her back to him. Her cheeks burn. This made him ten times more attractive than he already was.

“Yep, that’s me. Saving people from burning buildings and the like,” he sighs in exaggeration, flexing his biceps and she can’t help but giggle.

**

Sanghyuk was right about his job, though he was called for medical and incident responses more than actual fires in the middle of the winter. Nevertheless, he was busy, and busy for their age was good.

It’s not until the snows and harsh tundras have melted away into the fragrant, soft winds of spring that what’s kindling between her and Sanghyuk starts to flicker and grow.

She’s nannying the five-year-old daughter of a colleague, taking little Hanna out for a walk on the town after an afternoon at the park. Hanna is babbling to Pepper, the Siamese cat in her round arms, while juggling an ice cream cone she had bought for the little tike.

“I can hold your ice cream, Hanna,” she offers as Hanna angles her head to attempt a well-aimed lick. She struggles, stopping in her tracks entirely to shift the weight of the cat in her arms. Pepper mewls in distaste as the cold treat sticks to her fur.

“It’s okay, I can do it,” Hanna grunts. Pepper, however, has had enough, lashing out of her arms with a sharp hiss and sending Hanna’s ice cream to the pavement with a splat. Pepper bounds forward, just as a squirrel dashes across their path and feline instincts kick in as she deftly chases it all the way up to the second branch of a towering elm tree.

“Oh no..” Hanna cries, the events unfolding before her too much for her mind to comprehend. That’s when she realizes Hanna’s arms are bleeding. The phone number is quick to dial.

“Hello?”

“Sanghyuk, it’s me. Are you at the station now?”

“Today’s my day off, I’m back home. Is everything-?”  he’s cut off with another of Hanna’s wails.

“I’ll be right there.” He says.

**

Sanghyuk arrives four minutes later on the dot. He’s not even short of breath in his white t-shirt and jeans as he pulls an extension ladder out from the trunk of his car.

Hanna watches in between sniffles as he climbs up with practiced ease, lifting Pepper off of the branch.

“I believe this belongs to you, miss.” Sanghyuk announces with pomp and flare, handing Pepper back to Hanna.

“Thank you,” she murmurs back quietly and snuggles into Pepper, “you dumb cat.”

“Now,” he says, pulling a small first aid kit from his car, “I want to make sure you aren’t badly hurt. He sits back on his heels and gestures for Hanna to come sit on his knee. She obliges, Pepper still in tow.

“This may hurt a bit, can you be a strong girl for me?” Sanghyuk murmurs. Hanna nods and she feels her heart swell. He’s quick to spray the antiseptic. Hanna starts to fuss before her cries erupt into a fit of giggles as he tickles her.

He finishes quickly and Hanna runs over, proudly showing her the pink Pororo band-aid. “Look! We’re matching!” she squeals just as Sanghyuk flashes his own band-aid.

**

Hanna’s mother calls her later that week to ask if she’d be willing to watch her daughter again in the future. Apparently, Hanna had been so delighted that she had forgotten all about her fallen ice cream cone, and demanded to see her as soon as time allotted.

She tells Sanghyuk this one warm, spring night. She’s in his apartment, the windows all open and the radio blaring. He’s dancing to some one-hit-wonder from a few years ago as he continues to cook and she sets the table.

This had been a comfortable routine they started after finding out both of them rarely ate square meals, only eating light snacks whenever their busy schedules allowed. They had decided that every other week, they would host a sort of pot-luck at each other’s respective apartments.

“Hanna is so cute,” Sanghyuk giggles, stirring the pan of vegetables. They had been drinking while preparing dinner, the empty bottle of wine on the countertop to show for it. She felt deliciously light-headed herself, coming up beside him to inspect his progress, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“I’m glad you think so, I’ll make sure to tell her next time I see her.”

“Not as cute as you, though,” he says like it’s a statement, like the sky was blue for any matter.

Before she can respond, both his hands cup her face and the wooden spoon he had been holding clatters to the stove. His mouth moves with hers and she hooks her fingers through the loops of his jeans to pull him closer before his lips trace the line of her jaw, kissing feverishly up her neck.

“Sanghyuk..the food..” she murmurs against him, breathless. As if on cue, there’s a sickening sizzle.

“Shit,” he says against her lips and pulls away to take the pan off the heat. They both laugh until tears sting their eyes and their sides ache.

Her chest burns with something that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

**

She hasn’t seen Sanghyuk at all that weekend. She vaguely remembers him stumbling home that Friday, yet hasn’t seen him since.

She knocks on his door. “No one’s home,” comes the muffled reply. She lets herself in. Sanghyuk is curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and hair disheveled.

“How did you get in?” he groans.

“You told me where you keep your spare key.” She states, placing it back into the mail slot.

“Oh, yeah.” he chuckles.

He looks exhausted. Dark circles rim his eyes and empty cups of instant noodles line the coffee table.

“Sanghyuk, have you gone grocery shopping at all this weekend?”

“No,” he mutters, “ugh, go away. I smell like smoke.”

“Then get your ass in the shower while I fix you some real food to eat,” she urges, hauling him up by the arm. He doesn’t protest, only continuing to moan and groan as he makes his way to the bathroom.

**

He looks much better after a nice, hot meal in his stomach and his mood has certainly improved. He’s telling her about his day when suddenly her phone on the table vibrates. A text message.

Who’s this new friend?

It’s from an unknown number. She feels her stomach drop through the floor, she knew exactly who this was.

An old flame, or rather, an obsessive ex. She had broken it off years ago, yet he popped back into her life whenever she seemed to have everything in her life back under control. It’s this last part that makes her believe that somehow, somewhere, he’s always watching.

He notices her unease. She explains her past boyfriend, sliding the phone across the table so he can see the message for himself.

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight? You could make up the couch, or something. I think it’ll be good for us both to make sure we survive the weekend.” He smiles softly.

The last remark is meant more for himself, but it still makes her a bit nervous.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” The truth, she realizes.

**

They spend the rest of the night in silence. She ordered some recent blockbuster on paperview and the two of them are settled in on her sofa, a bowl of popcorn and some soda between them.

Sanghyuk is totally invested in the movie, muttering advice to the protagonists and cursing whenever the villains seemed to catch on to their plans. He has his arm over the backrest, fingertips brushing her shoulders. She lets herself succumb to her own fatigue, warm, comfortable, and safe with Sanghyuk beside her.

Then the vibration of her phone in her pocket jolts her awake.

Is he staying over at your place? The same unknown number.

When he lives so close? Another vibration.

You bad girl.

She powers off the phone and Sanghyuk offers her the popcorn. She smiles, digging in with a large handful.

“What’d I miss?”

**

The next morning they share a breakfast of cold cereal and orange juice. They’re both rather sleepy, having fallen asleep on her lumpy couch, but content nonetheless.

They spend the rest of the weekend doing chores, keeping her mind occupied with grocery lists and laundry. Still, the fear leeches in, stealing away the small happiness she had built for herself, terrified she’ll spot him around every corner.

She doesn’t touch her phone until Monday, when work demands its attention.

**

Why are you ignoring me?

She feels bile rise in the back of her throat when the new message comes in.

“S-Sanghyuk..” she gasps. In an instant, Sanghyuk is at her side. He had been staying with her for the past few days, her emotional support. After all, he was trained to deal with people in a state of panic. She sinks to the floor and Sanghyuk follows, bringing her against him.

Her phone starts pinging madly, each vibration like a bullet through her chest.

You know I don’t like sharing, babe.

Maybe he does?

I know you wouldn’t mind that, right?

He takes the phone out of her hand and slides it across the wooden floor so it’s out of her reach, but not before she sees the last message.

I love this. I love you.

She starts to cry, hands trembling, her world shattering. How could he do this to her again and again? Why can’t he just leave her alone?

“He wants to make you feel vulnerable and alone,” Sanghyuk’s voice murmurs. He takes her hands in his, peering down into her face with a gentle smile. “But you’re not. You have me.”

She nods. He’s right, her ex is trying to drive her away from others, that’s what he always had done, what he had been good at.

“You’re never alone.” He whispers and seals her lips with another searing kiss.

**

She’s thankful for Sanghyuk and the warmth he provides her. He’s moved from sleeping on the couch to sharing a bed with her, never forward, always understanding and giving her exactly what she needs.

Her anchor, fireproof.

**

It’s high summer when Sanghyuk’s company gets a call. Luckily, Taekwoon and Jaehwan have just finished checking their equipment when Wonshik receives the tip.

“Seven blocks down,” he says, “it’s close, right on 8th and Main.”

He doesn’t miss the look that Hongbin gives him. Close, closer than he would have liked to home.

Hakyeon doesn’t miss a beat. “Suit up, we leave in two.”

**

Sanghyuk has done this a million times, yet he feels the same nerves he felt on his first run, like he might just lose his breakfast right in Jaehwan’s lap as he weaves the fire engine in and out of traffic.

He can smell the fire before he sees it.

White flames lick through the windows of the apartment building.

His apartment building.

He has a feeling he knows who the firebug is. He bites off a curse, his heavy gear feeling suddenly feather light as adrenaline courses through him and he’s taking off across the pavement. Hongbin clears the scene, Jaehwan and Wonshik working the hose down to the nearest hydrant while he, Hakyeon, and Taekwoon storm through the doors.

The heat is suffocating. He has to remember to keep a cool head and follow protocol when his heart jumps to the conclusion to check her floor first. There’s surprisingly very few residents still inside, though Sanghyuk still recognizes some of them as he and Hakyeon rush them outside as fast as they can.

They finally reach his landing, top floor, and he bursts through the doorway.

His heart catches in his throat. She lies collapsed on the floor of her apartment. Instinct takes over and he scoops her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest.

“She’ll be okay, just get her out of here,” Hakyeon presses a quick hand to his shoulder before he rushes out to check the rest of the rooms. Hakyeon, always there to keep him sane.

The outside air has never felt more welcoming against his overheated skin. He takes off his helmet and jacket once he’s safely out onto the street, making it easier to assess her.

She’s not moving. Hakyeon joins him then, Taekwoon not far behind.

“Building’s all clear,” he hears Taekwoon say. Good, at least everyone made it out.

She isn’t breathing either, feeling and hearing nothing when he places his ear before her mouth. He starts performing CPR, quick compressions pushing hard and fast against her chest.

“C’mon,” he pleads. He seals his mouth over hers, ignoring his spasming pulse and breathes air into her lungs, watching her chest rise. Another listen. Still nothing.

“Get me that AED!” Sanghyuk yells to no one in particular but his boys are already on it, Jaehwan setting up the little machine beside him. The pads are quick to apply.

“Clear!” Jaehwan affirms.

Her body jumps but no vitals are picked up.

“Again, give me another charge!”

“Clear!”

Another jump. Nothing.

Sanghyuk’s world collapses and he feels Jaehwan’s hand on his shoulder. He knew when to stop, he just didn’t want to.

His chest burns. She looks merely asleep in his arms despite the soot on her skin, like the countless times he had carried her to bed.

He will keep fighting fire with fire, keep his little piece of paradise safe. For her.

And one day he will find that firebug. Her killer.

[hollysdailyrambles]

OCD and Me

By Holly 7.17.2020

To the surprise of no one, I, a Gen Z/millennial blend, have depression, anxiety and OCD. These are things that impact me every single day of my life, though some days worse than others. My depression comes in waves, and mostly manifests in lethargy and hours and hours of depression naps. However, my OCD and anxiety are more dynamic, and keeps some spice in my life.

OCD is a misunderstood diagnosis. I don’t just color code my closet and say “Omg i’m so OCD!!”. Fuck, I WISH it were just that. I hate laundry. So much.

Obsessions are where most of my OCD comes out to shine. The DSM5, my favorite light read, defines Obsessions as Recurrent and persistent thoughts, urges, or impulses that are experienced, at some time during the disturbance, as intrusive and unwanted, and that in most individuals cause marked anxiety or distress and the individual attempts to ignore or suppress such thoughts, urges, or images, or to 

neutralize them with some other thought or action (i.e., by performing a compulsion).

Obsessions are a pain in the ass.  Intrusive thoughts to me are always about safety. Like OMG I've been out of the house for 20 minutes, I hope my dog is okay and hasn’t eaten her dog bed and died while I was out. about holy shit what if my fiance crashes his car while driving to wegmans??? He hasn’t told me he is safe and he should've told me he was there 1 minute ago! Sometimes I have to get up and do something else (Anything else) because the spiraling thoughts have moved into what I would wear at a funeral and how could I afford the house I live in with him.

One of my big obsessions is  about doors, and the fun part is it leads to some compulsions. Are they locked? Okay I tried it, but is it locked? Okay I know I’ve checked it 100 times, but I have to check it again just to be sure. When I was allowed to leave my house pre COVID, I would have a routine. Dog in crate, Lights off, check all the sinks to make sure they are off, then go around and do a second loop making sure everything is off, then phone/keys/wallet, and then lock the door and get in my car. Then get out of my car and check the door again, because what if I wasn’t paying attention the first time. On my particularly adventurous days, I would then drive down the street, make it to the rotary, and do a loop back home. Go inside, make sure the lights are off and sinks are shut off, then make sure the door is locked again.  Very fun adventures, 10/10. 

I bring my dog for a walk 3x a day with my fiance, and you bet doors are my favorite part of it! Back door locked? Yes ok. Wait! I have to double check! Then I have to pee. I ALWAYS have to pee before leaving the house, though I’m not sure if that’s OCD or just getting older. Then we can leave the house! But did you grab the keys? If I haven't watched my fiance grab his keys, I often have to have him show me he has keys before I step out of the house. He’s a saint for putting up with my bullshit. 

The end of my day is always relaxing. A cup of tea, a book, an adventure outside to let the dog out (Keys?), then finally I can go to bed. But wait - what about the doors?! I will walk from my front door and back door a hundred times until I am satisfied they are both locked. I don’t have a particular number, but it’s about what feels good. Oh that pull on the door wasn’t perfect, what if I am wrong and it wasn’t locked? It’s a great way to get steps in. You would think by now I know to check the doors, but the worst is when I’ve climbed into bed and then the thought hits me  - The doors! Even if I know the doors are locked on a deep level, I will have to get out and check. It’s exhausting and most nights, pretty cold to get out of bed. Sometimes I get stuck in a cycle, and I can’t seem to break my own obsessive thought and compulsion to check the door. I have to ask my fiance to step in (Occasionally waking him up, sorry!) and ask him to check just so i can get out of my head. It often physically feels like I’m tearing myself out of the situation. 

Doors aren't my only obsession/compulsion mix. I have a thing about hand washing, where at night I need to be sure the sink is not running. I will shut off the water and hold my hands under the faucet for 10 seconds until I am satisfied there is no leak in the faucet. This would be tolerable if I only made one bathroom trip before bed, but as I have the bladder of a squirrel there are a minimum of three bathroom trips a night. This leads to 3 very stressful trips to the bathroom making sure I have shut off the sink.

Of course, this makes sleeping so easy! May as well hype myself up before bed

Reading this, you’re probably like “Lady, you need meds.” And you’re probably right! I would love to have a medication that works for me that allows me to have an easier time to use the coping skills I know and love! However, medication and I are currently not good friends.

I have tried! I have tried so many medications. Some made me super depressed, some made me super dumb, and other have made me have weird physical symptoms that are not comfortable at all. In another fun turn of events, I also was allergic to several medications. I cannot always source the start of my obsession/compulsions, but i can definitely tell you when my obsessive intrusive thought and fear of being allergic to medication came into being! So treating my OCD with medication is currently very much against everything my OCD is telling me.

I don’t share my OCD story for sympathy. I don't want you to feel bad for me. Everyone has their things, and OCD is mine. I share my story, because I want people to see that it’s okay to have struggles. You can and will still be successful. Even with my quirks, I am engaged, own a home, have a dog, a masters degree and a full time fulfilling job. It is always possible to aim high, even if there are more bumps in the road then other people may have,

[stopkingobama]

The Dumbest Laws in Each of the 50 States

Photo source: Pixabay, Sloozeberry, CC0 Public Domain, https://pixabay.com/en/cosplay-goofy-funny-dumb-1011450/

In recent weeks, we’ve seen 5-year-olds fined for selling lemonade, pet sitters ticketed for watching cats without a permit, teens handcuffed for selling bottles of water to thirsty people, and efforts to criminalize screen time for kids.

It got us thinking: how many silly, outrageous, and/or superfluous laws are there out there? Here are 50 laws that will make you laugh or scratch your head.

    1. Alabama

Women can retain all property they owned prior to marriage in the case of divorce, according to Section 30-4-1 of the Alabama Code. However, this provision does not apply to men.

Alaska

It is legal to turn a picnic table or bench into a boat, but only if it contains all safety precautions like life vests and is registered as a boat, according to the Alaska DMV.

Arizona

It is illegal for a donkey to sleep in a bathtub, according to an Arizona-based law firm.

Arkansas

It is prohibited to pronounce “Arkansas” incorrectly, according to Arkansas Code Title 1-4-105.

California

It is forbidden to eat a frog that passed away during a “frog-jumping contest”, according to Article 2-6883 of California’s fishing and game code.

Colorado

In Aspen, it is illegal to launch a catapult at any building or person, according to Section 15.04.210.

Connecticut

In Meriden, it is illegal for a non-police officer or member of the police department to have a whistle or make the ‘bean police call’ on a whistle, according to Statute 153-7.

Delaware

In Rehoboth Beach, children can only trick-or-treat on Halloween from 6-8 pm, according to Chapter 193-33. If Halloween falls on a Sunday, children must trick-or-treat on Saturday, October 30 between 6-8 pm.

Florida

Pregnant pigs must be unconfined and be able to roam freely when they are pregnant, according to the Florida Constitution 10.21. Only pigs are designated in the constitution as having these rights.

Georgia

In Athens-Clarke County, a goldfish or any other animal may not be given to someone to entice them to enter a business agreement or game, according to Section 4-1-9.

Hawaii

Hawaii has a law called “Aloha Spirit” that is the coordination of mind and heart within everyone. This allows everyone to emanate happy feelings to one another, according to Statute 5-7.5.

Idaho

In Pocatello, it is illegal not to smile in public, according to a 1948 “smile” ordinance, which was passed to heighten morale after a hard winter, therefore transforming Pocatello into the United States Smile Capital.

Illinois

Those under 21 can drink legally, but only if they’re enrolled in a culinary program, according to Section 3-3.

Indiana

It is illegal to see a hypnotist without a doctor’s note unless you are trying to lose weight or quit smoking, according to Article 20.5-1.

Iowa

The standard size of all boxes used for picking hops has to be precisely 36 inches long, 18 inches wide, and 24 ¼ inches deep, according to Statute 210-14.

Kansas

In Topeka, it is against the law to scream in a haunted house, according to Shawnee County’s Haunted House conduct.

Kentucky

One may not dye a duckling blue and put it up for sale unless more than six are for sale at one time, according to state Statute 436.600.

Louisiana

There is a $500 fine if you instruct a pizza delivery man to deliver a pizza to your friend without them knowing, according to Section 14.68.6.

Maine

In Biddeford, it is illegal to gamble at the airport, according to Section 14-2.

Maryland

In Rockville, swearing is prohibited on sidewalks, streets, and highways, and one can be charged with a misdemeanor for violating the ordinance, according to Section 13-53.

Massachusetts

In Massachusetts, shooting ranges are not allowed to have targets that are shaped like humans, according to Part 1, Title XX, Chapter 140, Section 131.

Michigan

Every year in Michigan, the last Sunday in June will be known as “Log Cabin Day”, according to Act 60, Section 435.241.

Minnesota

It is illegal to grease up a pig to create a game if the aim of the game is to capture it again, according to Statute 343.36.

Mississippi

If a woman gives birth to two illegitimate children, at the same time or separately, she could go to jail for 30-90 days, according to Mississippi Code Title 97-29-11.

Missouri

Removing mattress tags or bringing an unlabeled mattress into the state is illegal in Missouri, according to Statute 421.007.1.

Montana

In Billings, Montana, residents are legally forbidden from raising pet rats, according to Section 4-301. However, if the rats are used as reptile or bird food, the practice is legal.

Nebraska

In Nebraska, persons with STDs cannot marry legally, according to Chapter 42, Section 102.

Nevada

In Reno, it is illegal to lie down on a public sidewalk, according to Section 8.12.015.

New Hampshire

In New Hampshire, it is illegal to pick up and collect seaweed off the beach during night hours, according to Title XVIII, Chapter 207:1.

New Jersey

Wearing a bullet-proof vest while murdering, kidnapping, robbing, or raping is illegal in New Jersey, according to S170.

New Mexico

In New Mexico, it is criminal – a petty misdemeanor, specifically – to misuse the national anthem or the state anthem, according to Section 30-21-5.

New York

If you’re a mayor of a New York village, you are not allowed to move the remains of a deceased person from an unused cemetery unless you are moving them to another resting place in the same county, according to Statute 15-1508.

North Carolina

It is prohibited to use a secret handshake to agree to or do illegal things, according to Statute 14-12.4.

North Dakota

It is illegal to attempt or perform human cloning, according to Statute 12.1-39-02.

Ohio

If a person coughs on another person while riding public transportation, the cougher can be arrested for a minor misdemeanor, according to Statute 2917.41.

Oklahoma

In Oklahoma, it is illegal to participate in horse tripping in any way, shape, or form. The offense comes with a punishment of a $2,000 fine or one year in jail, according to Statute 21-1700.

Oregon

In Oregon, farmers can be unknowingly committing a crime if they are driving on the highway with too much hay, according to Statute 164.815.

Pennsylvania

If you’ve ever been convicted of a felony and you happen to be in Pennsylvania, you’re not allowed to run a bingo game, according to Act 92.

Rhode Island

It is illegal to use a shopping cart at any other place except for the business labeled on the cart, according to Statute 11-41.1-2. This law also applies to dairy cases, egg baskets, bakery boxes, etc.

South Carolina

It is illegal for anyone under the age of 18 to play pinball, according to Statute 63-19-20.

South Dakota

It is unlawful to cause static electricity in the city of Huron, according to Chapter 9.32.010.

Tennessee

It is illegal to share your passwords to any entertainment subscription service (i.e. Netflix, Hulu, HBO), according to Tennessee House Bill 1783.

Texas

An atheist in the Lone Star State cannot hold any public office, according to the Texas Constitution, Article 1, Sec. 4.

Utah

In Ogden, it is legal for animal control or law enforcement officers to have sex with animals, according to Ordinance 13-3-2.Whether the practice is open to the average citizen is unclear.

Vermont

It is illegal to dress one’s horse up in a disguise and to disguise it as something other than a horse, according to Statute 13-047.

Virginia

In Virginia, cussing at another person is prohibited by law, according to Code of Virginia 18.2-416.

Washington

In Washington, it is illegal to go out in public if you have a cold, according to RCW 70.54.050.

West Virginia

In West Virginia, it is illegal to hunt any kind of wild animal by using a ferret, according to WV Code 20-2-5.

Wisconsin

It is illegal to serve margarine in restaurants in Wisconsin (unless customers specifically ask for it) and in state prisons (with the only exception being medical necessity), according to Chapter 97.18.

Wyoming

In the city of Newcastle, going out in public while cross-dressing is unlawful, according to Sec. 17-14.

—

[Image credit: Flickr-wp paarz | CC BY-SA 2.0]

This post The Dumbest Laws in Each of the 50 States was originally published on Intellectual Takeout by Anna Mathews and Caroline Probst.

[myragewillendworlds]

@fauxpunk94

I never blocked you. The OP of the post may have. I can now no longer reblog anything from your blog however, so unless Tumblr has messed up, you’d be bitching about me blocking you when you have me blocked. Either way, here is my response. Cut for length.

"I’m saying that she herself said that medical intervention may not be sufficient in treating transsexualism."

Here's what she actually says:

The aim of trans medical interventions is to bring a trans person’s body more inline with their gender identity, resulting in the measurable diminishment of their gender dysphoria. However trans people as a group also experience significant social oppression in the form of bullying, abuse, rape and hate crimes. Medical transition alone won’t resolve the effects of crushing social oppression: social anxiety, depression and posttraumatic stress.

What we’ve found is that treatment models which ignore the effect of cultural oppression and outright hate aren’t enough. We need to understand that our treatment models must be responsive to not only gender dysphoria, but the effects of anti-trans hate as well. That’s what improved care means.

[source]

You can stop twisting her words around now.

PS: like or dislike that faux-progressive news source, she is the one to point towards the HuffPost article herself.

"It is not sufficient enough to cure their transsexualism."

There is currently no way to "cure" transsexualism, and there never may be. There is no way to "cure" some (or all?) mental illnesses either; that doesn't mean the treatments for those are "failures." This isn't an 100% success or fail scenario, this is symptom reduction, and physical transition is very successful for that end. The outcome of those 33 different studies proves that clearly.

Stop using your misinterpretation of one study to claim that transition is not successful, when such a long list of studies proves you wrong.

"Anyone who doesn’t advocate for your position is advocating for their suicides?"

No, anyone who does not believe in providing the option of puberty blockers when there are children at serious risk of trauma, (potentially life-long) gender dysphoria and at worst suicide, is taking the risk that any of those outcomes eventually happen.

"I believe gender dysphoria is a real phenomenon that is caused by environmental (nurture) factors, not biological (nature) factors."

Cool. Science says you're wrong. Brain studies support the theory there is a neurological basis, and twin studies show there may be a genetic factor as well. Gender dysphoria is also documented all over the world and has been for a long time in history -- despite all the enormous differences and changes in societal structures.

"All that can really be concluded is that one experiences gender dysphoria and it is linked to that part of the brain, not that one feels male/female if they are really of the opposite sex."

That comes down to the same fucking thing. Gender dysphoria = feeling like the opposite sex. Christ.

"I was not asking how the child feels about their gender dysphoria, I want to ask them why they feel it necessary to be put onto hormone blockers."

Because they have gender dysphoria. The outlook of developing sex characteristics of the 'wrong' sex gives them gender dysphoria.

"They feel dysphoria because they don’t want to be put into traditional sex roles."

Assumptions, you're not their doctor, etc.

"Puberty blockers are hormone blockers. Puberty is a burst of hormones, stop treating these as two different things."

I was literally just using the terms interchangeably. I treated them as the exact same thing.

"How can one determine what is male and what is female without enforcing stereotypical gender roles?"

Time for you to open a biology book.

"Why do all of these studies automatically assume that transsexuality is something we are born with instead of counting environmental factors such as socialization?"

They don't assume, they propose a theory and then research it, which is a normal scientific method. Furthermore, years of attempting to treat gender dysphoria with therapy alone have failed, while physical transition has been shown to severely alleviate symptoms, indicating it may be a biological problem rather than one of socialization.

"The point of my original link was to show that it is not at all possible to say that a person is able to call themselves female trapped inside a male body/vice versa because the individuality of the brain is to significant that they had to instead average it out."

And the point of my reply was to explain that if only a small, sexually dimorphic part of the brain is responsible for the feeling of being male or female, a person can still feel like female trapped in the wrong body. Further research is certainly needed to fully understand what makes us feel male/female, but current research already suggests that there is a neurological basis for it.

I'm not even trying to be condescending here, but you're asking some really dumb questions. Mostly as a result of your own false assumptions and the misconception of what "gender dysphoria" means. You only make the claim that transsexualism must be due to society because you make gender dysphoria out to be solely about gender roles. This is not what transgender people indicate, nor what the official diagnosis of gender dysphoria states. A person who is troubled only by their gender role should not be diagnosed with gender dysphoria or put on hormone treatment. The desire to physically belong to the opposite sex must be present as well.

"Intersex is not the same as transgender/transsexual."

Providing a list of studies that happens to include research on intersex conditions is not the same as making that statement.

TL;DR if you believe your dysphoria is best treated with therapy, good for you. You have that option. But this does not mean that other people should not be given the option of puberty blockers and HRT, if this is what they need. Treating children with gender dysphoria is a case-by-case scenario with the goal of risk reduction, which is why puberty blockers should be one of the possible options.

Lastly, my "vagueblog" posts were not even about you, they were about someone referring to transgender women as "dangerous men out to sexually assault all women."

[pledje]

Aim high when you talk to donors about how much they care

I was talking to a fundraiser for a medical charity about how they talk to their donors.

They had a pretty amazing advantage: A large majority of their donors had close personal connection with the disease the charity was focused on. The donors came in several groups:

People who have the disease.

Close family member of people who have the disease.

People who know people who have the disease.

People with only casual connection to the disease.

As you can see, there are sort of concentric rings of connection, starting with people very close to the cause and going all the way out to a group that has only a slight connection. As you'd expect, retention rates for the top groups are very high, but very low for the bottom group.

The organization handled this variation in audience connection by making sure they what they said "worked" for the lowest-connection group ... under the assumption that whatever you say to the low-connection people is also true of those more connected. After all, you don't want to say, I know you care because you have the disease to people who don't have the disease.

This concern for "accuracy" was killing their messaging. They would never say, I know you care because you know this disease very well -- because, they reasoned, some people on the file (a fairly small percentage) probably didn't know much about the disease.

All their messaging was "dumbed down" to the lowest common denominator of connection.

And fundraising wasn't going very well.

There's a better solution to the variation in audience that most nonprofits face to some degree: Why not give your lower-connection people "credit" for caring and knowing more than they do? You might be surprised at how much they do care.

Why not talk about the disease as a real and up-close thing to all donors?

Does it seem likely that low-connection donors going to be upset or insulted if you assume they care more deeply than they actually care?

Surely that's better than sending low-connection messages to your deeply connected people!

Every time I buy an Apple product, it comes with a couple of little Apple logo stickers. I'm never going to put those on anything. I'm just not that big a fan. And I don't know the numbers, but I feel confident in guessing that I'm in the majority of their customers.

But they treat all of us as fanatics.

They don't say Only 30% of our customers will use our stickers; let's stop including them. They know it's better to aim at your closest audience. You do no harm to the others, and you just might inspire a few low-connection people to climb the ladder.

[neptunecreek]

Aim high when you talk to donors about how much they care

I was talking to a fundraiser for a medical charity about how they talk to their donors.

They had a pretty amazing advantage: A large majority of their donors had close personal connection with the disease the charity was focused on. The donors came in several groups:

People who have the disease.

Close family member of people who have the disease.

People who know people who have the disease.

People with only casual connection to the disease.

As you can see, there are sort of concentric rings of connection, starting with people very close to the cause and going all the way out to a group that has only a slight connection. As you'd expect, retention rates for the top groups are very high, but very low for the bottom group.

The organization handled this variation in audience connection by making sure they what they said "worked" for the lowest-connection group ... under the assumption that whatever you say to the low-connection people is also true of those more connected. After all, you don't want to say, I know you care because you have the disease to people who don't have the disease.

This concern for "accuracy" was killing their messaging. They would never say, I know you care because you know this disease very well -- because, they reasoned, some people on the file (a fairly small percentage) probably didn't know much about the disease.

All their messaging was "dumbed down" to the lowest common denominator of connection.

And fundraising wasn't going very well.

There's a better solution to the variation in audience that most nonprofits face to some degree: Why not give your lower-connection people "credit" for caring and knowing more than they do? You might be surprised at how much they do care.

Why not talk about the disease as a real and up-close thing to all donors?

Does it seem likely that low-connection donors going to be upset or insulted if you assume they care more deeply than they actually care?

Surely that's better than sending low-connection messages to your deeply connected people!

Every time I buy an Apple product, it comes with a couple of little Apple logo stickers. I'm never going to put those on anything. I'm just not that big a fan. And I don't know the numbers, but I feel confident in guessing that I'm in the majority of their customers.

But they treat all of us as fanatics.

They don't say Only 30% of our customers will use our stickers; let's stop including them. They know it's better to aim at your closest audience. You do no harm to the others, and you just might inspire a few low-connection people to climb the ladder.

from Future Fundraising Now https://ift.tt/2FpuIyB

[sarahburness]

12 Best Remedies For Migraine Headaches

Migraines can be debilitating and they can take days out of your life each time you have one. In the throes of a migraine headache, it may sometimes feel like it’s not possible to stop them.

To help you out, we’ve put together a list of remedies for migraine to help you get back your life quickly.You may have to try one or two before you find the one that works best for your situation, but you should eventually be able to find one remedy that is best suited for your body.

Head it off with painkillers

The key to getting painkillers to be effective against migraine headaches is to take one before the pain gets too bad. Along with Ibuprofen and Tylenol, you can also take Meftal spas. You can get all of these painkillers without a prescription. They can work to reduce the seriousness of your migraine quickly and effectively.

Use a cold compress

If you have cold or frozen compresses at home, apply it to your head and neck for 10 to 15 minutes at a time. The cold works to decrease your inflammation, constrict your blood vessels, and slow down your nerve conduction. All of these things contribute to migraines. All you have to do is fill a waterproof bag with ice and wrap it in a towel before you apply it to your neck or head.

Try an acupuncture session

Ancient Chinese medicine uses tiny needles inserted into pressure points on the body to relieve tension and pain. As your body relaxes from the acupuncture treatment, you should feel your headache letting up.

One study showed that acupuncture is as effective at treating migraine pain as certain medications and 4,400 people had relief after one session.

Drink ginger tea

Did you know that ginger root has several helpful compounds that can help to reduce any inflammation you may have?

Additionally, ginger can help prevent vomiting and nausea which are common problems with migraines. You can either take a ginger supplement or grate fresh ginger root, boil it, and let it steep in the hot water to make a ginger tea.

Drink a beverage with caffeine

If you’re currently experiencing a migraine, drinking a beverage with caffeine, like coffee, tea or soda, may help . Caffeine is effective because it works to restrict your blood vessels, causing your migraine pain to lessen. Additionally, it can enhance the effects of certain pain-relieving supplements or medications if you choose to take them.

Use peppermint or lavender oil

Essential oils are an extremely popular way to fight headaches and migraines. You can take a few drops of peppermint essential oil and rub it into your temples for a few minutes.

You can also apply lavender essential oil to your upper lip or put it in a diffuser. Inhale it to help reduce any nausea or pain you may have. They both have pain relieving properties along with relaxation properties that can help with your headache.

Make sure you’re getting enough water

One large cause for migraines is slight dehydration and it happens in hundreds of people who simply don’t get enough water throughout the day. You can get relief in as little as 30 minutes when you drink water and hydrate yourself. In some cases, it can take up to three hours, depending on the severity of the dehydration.

Dehydration can also make your pain symptoms seem worse because it can make you irritable and impair your concentration levels.

Limit or avoid alcohol

You may or may not know that alcohol is a vasodilator. This means that it causes your blood vessels to dilate or open up when you drink. This can increase your migraine’s severity because the blood is flowing more freely throughout your system.

For the best results, you want to limit your alcohol intake when you have a migraine or consider avoiding it altogether.

Sleep the recommended number of hours

Sleep can be a tricky thing. You don’t want to get too much sleep because this can cause migraines. However, you also don’t want to be sleep deprived because this can also cause problems.

For healthy adults, this means that you want to aim for and get between seven and nine hours of sleep each night. You can adjust this slightly either direction, but that is the range you want to have.

Relax with yoga or a massage

Unfortunately, stress and tension can trigger a migraine or make your migraine symptoms worse. If you can’t relax on your own, consider joining a yoga class or getting a massage. These two things can help release any tension you may have throughout your body. They may also reduce the number of migraines you have overall.

Check your magnesium levels

A magnesium deficiency can trigger a migraine and your doctor can check for low magnesium levels.

If you have low magnesium, you can add certain foods to your diet to bring it back up. Things like almonds, eggs, peanut butter, oatmeal, and sunflower seeds are excellent sources of magnesium. You should only eat some each day to bring your magnesium levels back up.

Practice stress management

As we mentioned, stress can play a huge role in triggering migraines. With that, you may want to practice stress management techniques to help you lower your stress levels. It’s important that you find a healthy outlet for your stress like writing, reading, listening to music or even going for a short walk. These easy positive actions can help melt away your stress and ease your headache pain.

The post 12 Best Remedies For Migraine Headaches appeared first on Dumb Little Man.

from Dumb Little Man https://www.dumblittleman.com/remedies-for-migraine/

[mymortallygroovycollections-blog]

Fixing The Planet.

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I have actually never ever listened to the seven time production tale discussed so properly as in the Great Experience bible timeline throughout the early world sessions in Origin. The worst portion of static hair is when this clings to your face, so cut your reductions as well as pin back the most troublesome hairs mounting your face with an easy set from bobby pins.

[americanlibertypac]

The Dumbest Laws in Each of the 50 States

Photo source: Pixabay, Sloozeberry, CC0 Public Domain, https://pixabay.com/en/cosplay-goofy-funny-dumb-1011450/

In recent weeks, we’ve seen 5-year-olds fined for selling lemonade, pet sitters ticketed for watching cats without a permit, teens handcuffed for selling bottles of water to thirsty people, and efforts to criminalize screen time for kids.

It got us thinking: how many silly, outrageous, and/or superfluous laws are there out there? Here are 50 laws that will make you laugh or scratch your head.

    1. Alabama

Women can retain all property they owned prior to marriage in the case of divorce, according to Section 30-4-1 of the Alabama Code. However, this provision does not apply to men.

Alaska

It is legal to turn a picnic table or bench into a boat, but only if it contains all safety precautions like life vests and is registered as a boat, according to the Alaska DMV.

Arizona

It is illegal for a donkey to sleep in a bathtub, according to an Arizona-based law firm.

Arkansas

It is prohibited to pronounce “Arkansas” incorrectly, according to Arkansas Code Title 1-4-105.

California

It is forbidden to eat a frog that passed away during a “frog-jumping contest”, according to Article 2-6883 of California’s fishing and game code.

Colorado

In Aspen, it is illegal to launch a catapult at any building or person, according to Section 15.04.210.

Connecticut

In Meriden, it is illegal for a non-police officer or member of the police department to have a whistle or make the ‘bean police call’ on a whistle, according to Statute 153-7.

Delaware

In Rehoboth Beach, children can only trick-or-treat on Halloween from 6-8 pm, according to Chapter 193-33. If Halloween falls on a Sunday, children must trick-or-treat on Saturday, October 30 between 6-8 pm.

Florida

Pregnant pigs must be unconfined and be able to roam freely when they are pregnant, according to the Florida Constitution 10.21. Only pigs are designated in the constitution as having these rights.

Georgia

In Athens-Clarke County, a goldfish or any other animal may not be given to someone to entice them to enter a business agreement or game, according to Section 4-1-9.

Hawaii

Hawaii has a law called “Aloha Spirit” that is the coordination of mind and heart within everyone. This allows everyone to emanate happy feelings to one another, according to Statute 5-7.5.

Idaho

In Pocatello, it is illegal not to smile in public, according to a 1948 “smile” ordinance, which was passed to heighten morale after a hard winter, therefore transforming Pocatello into the United States Smile Capital.

Illinois

Those under 21 can drink legally, but only if they’re enrolled in a culinary program, according to Section 3-3.

Indiana

It is illegal to see a hypnotist without a doctor’s note unless you are trying to lose weight or quit smoking, according to Article 20.5-1.

Iowa

The standard size of all boxes used for picking hops has to be precisely 36 inches long, 18 inches wide, and 24 ¼ inches deep, according to Statute 210-14.

Kansas

In Topeka, it is against the law to scream in a haunted house, according to Shawnee County’s Haunted House conduct.

Kentucky

One may not dye a duckling blue and put it up for sale unless more than six are for sale at one time, according to state Statute 436.600.

Louisiana

There is a $500 fine if you instruct a pizza delivery man to deliver a pizza to your friend without them knowing, according to Section 14.68.6.

Maine

In Biddeford, it is illegal to gamble at the airport, according to Section 14-2.

Maryland

In Rockville, swearing is prohibited on sidewalks, streets, and highways, and one can be charged with a misdemeanor for violating the ordinance, according to Section 13-53.

Massachusetts

In Massachusetts, shooting ranges are not allowed to have targets that are shaped like humans, according to Part 1, Title XX, Chapter 140, Section 131.

Michigan

Every year in Michigan, the last Sunday in June will be known as “Log Cabin Day”, according to Act 60, Section 435.241.

Minnesota

It is illegal to grease up a pig to create a game if the aim of the game is to capture it again, according to Statute 343.36.

Mississippi

If a woman gives birth to two illegitimate children, at the same time or separately, she could go to jail for 30-90 days, according to Mississippi Code Title 97-29-11.

Missouri

Removing mattress tags or bringing an unlabeled mattress into the state is illegal in Missouri, according to Statute 421.007.1.

Montana

In Billings, Montana, residents are legally forbidden from raising pet rats, according to Section 4-301. However, if the rats are used as reptile or bird food, the practice is legal.

Nebraska

In Nebraska, persons with STDs cannot marry legally, according to Chapter 42, Section 102.

Nevada

In Reno, it is illegal to lie down on a public sidewalk, according to Section 8.12.015.

New Hampshire

In New Hampshire, it is illegal to pick up and collect seaweed off the beach during night hours, according to Title XVIII, Chapter 207:1.

New Jersey

Wearing a bullet-proof vest while murdering, kidnapping, robbing, or raping is illegal in New Jersey, according to S170.

New Mexico

In New Mexico, it is criminal – a petty misdemeanor, specifically – to misuse the national anthem or the state anthem, according to Section 30-21-5.

New York

If you’re a mayor of a New York village, you are not allowed to move the remains of a deceased person from an unused cemetery unless you are moving them to another resting place in the same county, according to Statute 15-1508.

North Carolina

It is prohibited to use a secret handshake to agree to or do illegal things, according to Statute 14-12.4.

North Dakota

It is illegal to attempt or perform human cloning, according to Statute 12.1-39-02.

Ohio

If a person coughs on another person while riding public transportation, the cougher can be arrested for a minor misdemeanor, according to Statute 2917.41.

Oklahoma

In Oklahoma, it is illegal to participate in horse tripping in any way, shape, or form. The offense comes with a punishment of a $2,000 fine or one year in jail, according to Statute 21-1700.

Oregon

In Oregon, farmers can be unknowingly committing a crime if they are driving on the highway with too much hay, according to Statute 164.815.

Pennsylvania

If you’ve ever been convicted of a felony and you happen to be in Pennsylvania, you’re not allowed to run a bingo game, according to Act 92.

Rhode Island

It is illegal to use a shopping cart at any other place except for the business labeled on the cart, according to Statute 11-41.1-2. This law also applies to dairy cases, egg baskets, bakery boxes, etc.

South Carolina

It is illegal for anyone under the age of 18 to play pinball, according to Statute 63-19-20.

South Dakota

It is unlawful to cause static electricity in the city of Huron, according to Chapter 9.32.010.

Tennessee

It is illegal to share your passwords to any entertainment subscription service (i.e. Netflix, Hulu, HBO), according to Tennessee House Bill 1783.

Texas

An atheist in the Lone Star State cannot hold any public office, according to the Texas Constitution, Article 1, Sec. 4.

Utah

In Ogden, it is legal for animal control or law enforcement officers to have sex with animals, according to Ordinance 13-3-2.Whether the practice is open to the average citizen is unclear.

Vermont

It is illegal to dress one’s horse up in a disguise and to disguise it as something other than a horse, according to Statute 13-047.

Virginia

In Virginia, cussing at another person is prohibited by law, according to Code of Virginia 18.2-416.

Washington

In Washington, it is illegal to go out in public if you have a cold, according to RCW 70.54.050.

West Virginia

In West Virginia, it is illegal to hunt any kind of wild animal by using a ferret, according to WV Code 20-2-5.

Wisconsin

It is illegal to serve margarine in restaurants in Wisconsin (unless customers specifically ask for it) and in state prisons (with the only exception being medical necessity), according to Chapter 97.18.

Wyoming

In the city of Newcastle, going out in public while cross-dressing is unlawful, according to Sec. 17-14.

—

[Image credit: Flickr-wp paarz | CC BY-SA 2.0]

This post The Dumbest Laws in Each of the 50 States was originally published on Intellectual Takeout by Anna Mathews and Caroline Probst.