#medical condition?
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robin has a metal backbone, don't forget
Haganse la idea de la Batfamily peleando con un grupo de villanos, criminales o lo que sea en una noche normal para sus terminos, todo esto en algun almacen o edificio en plena contruccion ( que gracias a la pelea ahora los trabajadores del lugar tendrian que hacer todo de nuevo ). Cada miembro estaba metido en su lugar en la pelea despreocupado porque ¿que podrian hacerles este pequeño grupo de payasos que hizo un mal intento de robar un banco?.
Uno de estos picaros en un intento desesperado por escapar va y prende una de las maquinas de contruccion que tiene un iman gigante, todo esto en un contexto caricaturesco y espera que esa maquina le saque todos los gadget a los vigilantes para hacerle el trabajo mas facil a su bando.
De la nada se escucha un grito y alguien aparece siendo arrastrado o succionado por una fuerza extraña, llevandose en el camino sin querer a Red Hood y a Orphan consigo, quedando los tres uno detras del otro atrapados contra el gran iman en el aire. El tipo atrapado es Robin, que para su mala suerte se habia olvidado que toda su columna vertebral era de metal pesado y que nadie de su familia ni el esperaban que esto pasara.
Por suerte la noche se salva, los criminales son capturados y los tres vigilantes logran safarse del iman. Nada salio mal ¿no?
En la semana siguiente se filtra un video de las camaras de seguridad del lugar mostrando el incidente de Robin y el iman. Damian desde entonces se aguanta las burlas o preguntas personales sobre lo que paso alli y que el claramente quiere evitar contestar.
Damian ama a su madre, pero esto solo le renovo el enojo inicial sobre el tema de su anatomia alterada.
#damian wayne#batfamily#batman and robin#batman#nightwing#red robin#red hood#robin#dc comics#Damian has a metal column#medical condition?#talia al ghul#orphan#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#cassandra cain#Talia al ghul is not a good mother but she tries.#headcanon#damian wayne headcanon
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sorry danny, sam will never think you’re cool
#danny phantom#danny fenton#sam manson#theres some ocs#college au#sam’s goth book club#i feel like she’d make a lot of good friends at a college#the trio has a highly rehearsed excuse for danny being weird#nobody has any idea what ecto-contamination is bc it doesn’t exist#ghosts are common-ish knowledge by now and amity is the known epicenter#stranger: holy shit your hand just went through that wall#danny: yeah it’s a medical condition :(#fentonworks is in on it too#for credibility#too bad the goths wanted vampires#moving to a new city did wonders for dannys popularity though#he’s got a lot he’s hiding so he can’t really take advantage#he probably knows more people number wise#but has less friends than sam#Tucker has a thriving social media life#but doesn’t get out much#hence that technus comic#can’t believe I finished this#lit took a whole ass week#hahahaha
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One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.
Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.
It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?
Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.
#idk what to tag this#worldbuilding#writing fiction#historical fiction#fantasy#a real-life example: my dad (a pediatrician) was once entrusted with the care of a baby who was born with a rare condition#this was in a place without great hospital/medical access and anyway they were going to fly the baby over#and he specifically asked them to bring the mother and baby#they show up with baby and...the baby's uncle#and he was like. y'all. do you think I asked for the mom to come just for fun??? We don't have formula here. what is the baby going to eat?
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
#almost wrote the champagne line as ''effervescent'' but legit could not write it without saying ''effervescent like a snail''#ah tumblr...#writeblr#warm up#idk . having trouble writing rn#ps i don't like to talk about it . it is my medical information. but before you ask. yes this is about being on the spectrum#i really don't like when ppl make my writing about how im [whatever ID]. i want it to ring true for the people who it rings true for#i don't want it to be like ''awwwww look at this person!!! she's the EXCEPTION!!! :)" .....#no.... not really.....#idk something gross happens whenever i admit to certain conditions and i turn into like inspiration p*rnography#like yes they actually let us use keyboards these days#furthermore i just... dont feel comfortable talking about this part of me. i had too bad of a childhood. adhd is one thing...#this one im like. still coming to terms with. which is like. my own journey.#idk. just please be kind. some things are more private than others. this one feels private to me.#i do not know how to help others w/this . and i do not know how to help myself. i will talk about it if im ever ready. idk if that will#actually ever happen#ty in advance i love u im kissing you we are kissing somewhere on the spectrum
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me personally? i die every night and come back wrong every morning but no one notices because i've been doing that for a long time so it's just kinda par for the course
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i think everyone who's ever had migraines should be financially compensated forever btw
#camera talks#disability stuff#this is for my chronic migraine girlies (gn) <3#i think we should all get 1 million million dollars everyday actually#this is the worst fucking night of my life (everytime i have migraines) (specifically rn tho)#chronic pain#chronic migraine#migraines#chronically ill#disabled#disclaimer because idk I’ve got a lot of notes on this#I have diagnosed chronic migraines. I used to have them 5-6 times a week#now with medication on a good week I’ll only be affected 2-3 days#on bad weeks it’s much worse#anyways don’t doubt my condition I know what I’m talking about thx
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Prompt 352
“Mother, I crave violence,” a small child interrupts the video call, practically clambering up into Nightingale’s chair. They look around five or so, with white hair and red eyes. Albino perhaps?
“Ah, apologies, let me take care of this real quick,” Nightingale turns the microphone off when he gets a few acknowledging noises, picking the small child up and moving them from the room.
“Cute kid,” Barry acknowledged from behind his coworker’s head, having been helping move things. Actually, the kid looked kind of familiar, though from where, who knew. Hard to remember everything with how fast his thoughts usually went. “I didn’t know Nightingale was a father…”
Then again the specialist was notoriously private, and set most meetings online thanks to some sort of medical conditions. So he supposed it would make it easier to be a stay at home dad if he was there already…
#Prompts#DCxDP#DPxDC#Mom Danny#Dad Danny#De Aged Dan#Well at least physically and using it to be a lil shit on purpose#Eternal Trio#Danny goes by Nightingale instead of the extra long combined name for work#You can’t tell me specialists wouldn’t exist in DC where there’s a bunch of supernatural & alien stuff everywhere#Danny specializes in scenes that have ecto or other realms energy/goops/etc#He’s not lying when he says medical conditions either what with the whole heartbeat/scars/etc#Ellie is also around she’s just out with Sam#Valerie is Ellie’s Godmother#Tucker professionally tests firewalls and similar & has a side streaming job#The people think Jordan is joking when he says he craves violence but he’s dead serious#He’s never been so annoyed than when he found out his ghost form has also been de-aged and he’s Tiny
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The dude in the video is a medical professional and really well known for his information on physical symptoms on melinated skin.
-fae
#black lives matter#blm#black lives still matter#health conditions on Black skin#medical conditions on Black skin
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my chronically ill best friend just said "I feel like the side effects part of a medication commercial" SO FUCKING TRUE BABE
#we have the same medical condition#pots#potsie#pots syndrome#chronic nausea#chronic joint pain#chronically ill#chronic fatigue syndrome#chronic illness#chronic pain#chronic fatigue#spoonie#invisible disability#disabled#actually disabled#gastroparesis#hypermobile ehlers danlos#ehlers danlos syndrome#hypermobility spectrum disorder#hypermobile eds#hypermobility#wheelchair#wheelchair user#mobility aid#cripple punk#cripplepunk
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happy pride everybody, hope you had a good one! And I hope everybody's excited for disability pride month this July :)
We can't forget our friends and family in Palestine during the celebrations. There is no Pride in Occupation. And happy pride to our family in Palestine, we won't forget about you. Stay strong and fight like hell. I love you.
donate to the fundraiser below and join your local Palestine solidarity group. Hani Al-Sharif, his wife, and five children need to evacuate. They are very far from their goal. Any amount helps.
#tf2#tf2 fanart#tf2 scout#tf2 sniper#tf2 spy#tf2 soldier#tf2 medic#tf2 demoman#tf2 engineer#tf2 heavy#tf2 pyro#tf2 headcanons#tf2 whole team#tf2 fandom#lil pootis#little pootis#pride month#pride art#pride month art#pride month 2024#illistration#artists on tumblr#digital art#original art#digital drawing#ruths doodles#wowza thats a lot of tags#i meant to finish this by june 5th lmao#ah chronic conditions. never gets old! or better! oh well what can ya do#so excited for artfight
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I love you lifelong vaginal atrophy
i love you topical estrogen that treats atrophy and doesn’t interfere with testosterone at all. i love you modern medicine that makes safe and harmless transitions possible. i love you health professionals who explained the risks of taking testosterone to me calmly and told me exactly how we would respond to each one if they ever became an issue because they’re not scary or unmanageable if you have good, competent people on your side.
i hate you terf rhetoric that completely ignores the actual reality of testosterone hrt in favor of portraying it as poison. i hate you transphobes who try to make me scared of the medication that gave me my life back.
#these people have no fucking clue what they’re talking about#and anyway. you think atrophy would be the worst of my lifelong health conditions?#these people will be like ‘you’ll be a lifelong medical patient!!!’ okay??? im a fucking cripple i already am#anon hate#examples of transandrophobia#transandrophobia#transandromisia#transmisandry#virilphobia#virilmisia#anti transmasculinity#transmascphobia#trans men#transmascs
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POV: You can't tell my type and it's definitely not tall dark and handsome men who are filthy rich with the sluttiest waists known to mankind ever
#∞ ₒ ˚ ° 📎— kyunnya speaks#NEW HUSBAND ACQUIRED AND ITS DR ZAYNE#//CUTELY TRIGGERS MY MEDICAL CONDITIONS TO GET HIS ATTENTION#GONNA BE FAKING HEART ATTACKS TO GET MY MAN'S ATTENTION#love and deepspace#sung jinwoo#solo leveling#sung jin woo#only i level up#ore dake level up na ken
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it’s hard for me to feed myself right now (just in terms of physical ability), so my mom drove me and the animals to her place. she carried the cats in first, because I had to butt-scoot up the front stairs, and once inside, Pangur got scared and ran. she’s tucked herself away somewhere, and nobody can find her. I probably could, and I could lure her out and make her feel safe again, except that I’m largely immobile. I keep falling on the crutches and fucking my leg up further, and the likeliest hiding spots are up or down a fleet of stairs. it’s been 4 hours, and it’s killing me not to look for her. I’m so tempted to crawl down the basement stairs, broken leg be damned.
#I have bad object permanence and anxiety#so my brain is saying ‘she’s gone forever’#she’s definitely in the house but I’m getting scared bc worst case scenario is that stress has brought on a medical condition#and that she’s stuck somewhere and needs help but I can’t get to her#I know she’ll probably just come out later in the night once she feels safe. but it’s hard to lie here like a lump waiting
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I think when people think of mental illness and what helps, especially with things like anxiety and depression, the treatment involves pushing yourself. Pushing yourself to get out of bed, to exercise, to take a shower, to go out in public, to order your own food from the cashier, etc.
And because the mental health movement has grown so much, people think that's the default of ALL illnesses. That the only way someone will get better is if they push themselves. That practice makes perfect. That you'll become more comfortable or strong over time the more you do something.
But what people need to realize is, with physical disabilities and chronic illnesses, pushing yourself in most cases is DETRIMENTAL. Pushing yourself past your limits can lead to flare ups or further injury. That's why it's important to know your limits, how certain activities may affect your condition, and learn how to either adapt or get help to complete the activity in question.
Also, most of us are already pushing ourselves. Most of us don't have access to the help or equipment we need. Most of us live in places where we frequently encounter inaccessible obstacles. Most of us NEED to rest.
So please don't try to be our physical therapists or doctors. There are people specifically trained to help us navigate our own conditions and limitations. There are people trained to help us strengthen our body's resilience without causing flare-ups or injury. Do not tell us "it'll be good for you" or "you need the exercise" when we say something is too heavy or too far or when we say we need our mobility aid(s). Your friend with depression may need to be encouraged to get out of bed, but your friend with chronic illness definitely doesn't.
Respect our rest.
#wrenfea.exe#DISCLAIMER: dont take this as me saying you should be pushing your mentally ill friends#this is more about how physical conditions often differ in how they are treated#also dont like. force your friends or anyone with anxiety to do things they dont want to#thats what therapists are for#also most mental illnesses require medication alongside therapy before they can get better#but even chronic illnesses and disabilities that benefit from exercise still require knowing your limits#and not being pressured to push past them#ive noticed some professionals who help both mentally and physically ill patients tend towards the push method#like my therapist and sometimes my counselors fall back on that method#and i have to remind them i am already pushing myself#and i need to adapt rather than push forward#chronic disability#chronic pain#spoonie#disability#chronic illness#cripple punk#cripplepunk#cpunk
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They don’t want us medicated (“do you want to be dependent on that for the rest of your life?”), they don’t want us unmedicated (“please stop doing xyz, why can’t you do abc?”), they just want us to stop being neurodivergent.
#also applies to physical disabilities and literally any condition that requires medication#you could even stretch it to trans people#’stop being depressed’ ‘stop taking hrt’ which is it then?#under the surface it’s always just ‘stop being the way you are’#neurodivergent#adhd#adhd meds#medication#campost
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Because I’m terrible and the plots won’t leave me alone, I’ve now got an idea based on this post about a demon who feasts on pain and suffering being a medical practitioner for the chronically and terminally ill and the patients fully loving it. And then my brain rot had to say “make it Steddie” because I’ve lost all control of my life.
—
cw: terminal illness, minor and major character death (with a happy ending tho)
But imagine it. Eddie is a demon, a low ranking one at that originally. He gets a job at a medical facility for the chronically/terminally ill. Over time at the happy and consensual feasting he really does become one of the strongest demons because he’s constantly fed to the brim and he even has human worshippers, not that they’re traditional worshippers.
No, his followers are little old senior citizens who slip him butterscotch candies and other sweets they’re not supposed to have, which technically count as offerings. They thank him for his work, because he does actually take care of their bodies as well and even listens to their life stories, which count as praise and worship. They love and are devoted to him and they bring in their friends and family who are suffering too and Eddie’s accidental cult grows.
One day, things change. A young man, an anomaly in his youth, is brought in by parents who no longer wish to be burdened by their disabled son. Steve just shrugs it off and moves in with a smile, seemingly fine with being abandoned by his parents because he dared to be anything other than perfectly healthy.
He puts around the facility in his terry cloth robe and slippers on some days, others he dresses up in polos and slacks or even jeans when he’s feeling more casual, and always with a smile on his face. He makes those around him smile and laugh too, and his cheeks get pinched and he’s slipped candies too and he listens to others’ stories and he seems happy and content.
But Eddie feeds on his pain and suffering all the same, knows that behind that smile is a young boy who was told he probably wouldn’t live to see 30, who listens to the older folks knowing he would never get to live a life like that. Eddie knows that sometimes Steve cries himself to sleep at night.
Over time, Eddie and Steve grow closer. Steve hadn’t believed that Eddie was a demon at first, had thought it all just a joke, until one night Mr. Wozniak was laying in his bed, and Steve hadn’t meant to overhear, but he was passing by and the door was cracked open.
“Will I go to Hell now?” Mr. Wozniak was asking, but he seems peaceful all the same, like the thought wasn’t the terrifying ordeal so many people thought it was.
“No, sweetheart,” Eddie was saying, but his voice sounds a little off, huskier, like���like brimstone sat in his throat. “I’ve never claimed your soul. It’s still your own. Go find Irena. She’s been waiting for you for too long.”
Irena, Steve knew from speaking with Mr. Wozniak, was his young wife who had died decades earlier.
“Will I get to see you again?”
Eddie’s long fingers reach out, his nails long and sharp, dark in a way that was not nail polish. He lightly and gently strokes the papery skin of Mr. Wozniak’s cheek. “You will be at peace. You will find the afterlife is so much more than this Good-vs-Evil rhetoric so popular in this plane of existence. Go in peace, my child, and should you wish it, perhaps one day we might meet again.”
Mr. Wozniak smiles at that, and he closes his eyes with a softly whispered, “Irena, I’m coming…”
A moment later, he was gone.
Steve watches as Eddie seems to grow smaller, appear more normal, and though he knows he should be terrified, he isn’t. Instead he continues on his way, letting the knowledge of more percolate in his brain, though by the next morning when news of Mr. Wozniak’s passing spreads and Eddie assures everyone that he passed away peacefully and in no pain, Steve knows Eddie speaks the truth and he realizes that nothing has changed. Eddie is still Eddie.
They continue to grow closer. He spends more time with Eddie, lets Eddie in fully on how much he hurts, and tells the demon that he wished things had been different and that they could have met under better circumstances.
Eddie tells him that he never enjoyed the taste of regret. It was far too bitter.
They fall in love, encouraged by their friends in the facility new and old, who don’t seem to care that he is a mortal with a short life expectancy and Eddie is an immortal demon lord. What is all that in the face of true love?
And then it happens, and Steve is the one lying in bed, knowing his time has come. He smiles up at Eddie and decides not to regret any of it, not wanting their final moments to be flavored with bitterness.
“Stevie,” Eddie whispers mournfully, and he’s beautiful. It’s not his full true form, but his eyes are a dark blood red, his teeth elongated into sharp fangs, and his pale skin veined with reds and blacks. Horns curl out from his curly hair.
“You said once that I get to be with my loved ones after this,” Steve says, still smiling, and he reaches up to cup Eddie’s jaw with a weakened hand. Eddie nods against him, and Steve wonders if all demons can cry, or if it’s just his. “Then take my soul, darling. It already belongs to you.”
Eddie flinches back, like Steve knew he would, because souls are not little things. Eddie had explained before, after everything, that he didn’t even actually deal in souls, that that wasn’t the sort of demon he was. Steve had asked if he could, on a technicality, and Eddie had paused because saying yes, any demon could, but souls were priceless. When you gave one up to a demon, you gave up everything. You would be theirs until the end of days. Eddie had said he wasn’t that sort of demon.
“Baby, no,” Eddie breathes now, shaking his head gently enough not to dislodge Steve’s hand. “You would be—”
“Yours,” Steve interrupts. “But I already am. You already own my heart. I now willingly give you my soul. All you have to do is accept it.”
And Eddie protests, at first, because Steve is giving him complete control over him for eternity. Steve gives it freely with open arms, and in the end, Eddie can do nothing but accept it. He tells Steve that he doesn’t know if demons have souls or not, but his belongs to Steve just as assuredly as his own heart does.
Steve’s final mortal breath is gifted into Eddie’s crimson mouth, full of peace and love and the understanding that this thing between them will always beat eternal.
It turns out that, whether it was still unknown if all demons had souls, Eddie was the sort that does.
And it also turns out that, when you’re gifted a demon lord’s soul, you become a demon too.
Eddie’s cult ends soon after, disbanded into non-existence. In its place, however, rises a new one that worships not just one demon caretaker, but two as Eddie is soon joined by another with floppy brown hair and sparkling brown eyes that for once smiles without hidden pain. They take care of their charges, gently coax them into eternal rest when it’s their time, and together prove that true love is forever.
#source: thesnadger et al.#this became more than I meant it too but I couldn’t stop#I for one would worship these demon overlords too#demon!eddie munson#terminally-ill!steve harrington#based on a text post#I kept steve’s condition purposely vague because I don’t know shit about medical conditions#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#steddie au#plot thots
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