#oooh long time no see bravely default

[dragongutsixofficial]

Bravely Default (all of ‘em) for the ask game! 💖

Oooooh ho ho you know what's up Nina ! Thank you for the ask =)

Blorbo: for anyone who doesn't know, Alternis Dim was my first ever full-blown blorbo, even more so than purple Link. I used not to really care about him until he told us his tragic backstory and for some reason my 11yo brain CLICKED and decided that he was the one who was gonna spend the next few years being rotated around like a rôtisserie chicken in my mind. I got into reading fanfictions because of him, and it's thanks to YEARS of reading fanfictions that yours truly now speaks English. I retconned his hair though because his canon hair is ugly af. He evolved so much over the years that he ended up more of my oc than his OG character but I feel like that was incredibly important for me at that point in my life to have him. I love people being able to take a character and make it theirs in order to grow or find something that brings them joy, and that's what he did for me. He grew alongside me, basically, and I'll always be thankful for him and for the shit he allowed my teenage brain to pull him through.

Scrimblo bimblo: GLORIA OF MUSA. Girl, you were so much better than Agnès ever was. You literally take names and kick ass. Her decidedness and steadfast attitude definitely got me falling hard for her. I loved watching her grow so much, and watching her find some happiness. I loved how ruthless she could prove to be. She reminded me a little bit of El, which is always a plus.

Glup shitto: he does have an important role in the story, but i think i'd still have to go with Seth. I think Bravely Default 2 suffered a bit for the fans because it didn't have the OG cast, and Seth especially had a lot to live up to after Ringabel. But he is extremely likable and I loved his design so much, but also how the story decided to wrap up his story (spoilers)!! Made me cry SO hard.

Poor little meow-meow: Victor S.Court probably. He is pathetic and I admire that. I also love that he and Alternis hate each other's guts, it's a really fun dynamic to explore

Horse plinko: Alternis you got me into hurt/comfort fics thanks for taking one for the team my dude

Eeby deeby: heck for some reason Tiz. I'd send Tiz to superhell maybe down there he can find his brother back

[elytrafemme]

i'm justtt putting this into asks rather than reblogging to reply bc. idk i think you might be asleep now thinking emoji and in asks the notif might be easier to see

on felps' lives channel he usually splits the streams up per game so it's easier to like.. pick a specific game and then watch through all the eps of it i guess? the auto-translate is usually pretty good too :]

i got nab/nap bc i train of thoughted my way onto the word kidnap and then went "hey isn't it weird that it's nap and not nab?" and then just went on a google spree bc like.. idk! very interesting ^_^ (<- also probably the adhd or whatevrr) nd the "you" thing is SO fun to me.... i've def heard of it being used for plural first before but i never really heard about it as liiike a formal only thing and then gradually getting less formal. and "y'all" filling the spot of it as a plural word instead is very fun !! "y'all" and "g'day" are like brothers to me. or cousins maybe idk. different but similar ^_^

i have a coworker who i talk about language with a lot and he's learning arabic!! it seems like a very interesting language i love hearing about it :] srsly if you ever want to talk about it my askbox/dms are always open!

anddd actively i'm learning brpt but i'd also like to multiclass into spanish ^_^ just trying to keep them . a little separate rn because i keep forgetting which words are from which language hashtag memory problems</3 bc some of them are similar (with: com versus con for eg) etc etc. other than that i'm trying to keep up with auslan but it's difficult when all the Good resources that keep my attention long term are paid/time consuming (which is fair since it's ppl actively teaching but it's just a little sad how little resources there are.. that i can Find at least) ALSO!! a jellyfish... this is so epic i don't think i've seen this emoji before :]!! ty ty!

HIII yes u are very right it is a lot easier to see ask notifs :]

OOOOH OKAY VERY IMPORTANT INFO TY!! im glad he splits it up like that it'll make my life easier :D i will deffo try to check it out <333

Y'ALL AND G'DAY ARE BROTHERS SO TRUE!!! i love y'all so much which like, i know it's a popular thing but i've met a lot of northerners at my school and it's strange how many people haven't acclimated to using y'all as a default. like that's just what i call people man i don't fucking know what to tell u. you all are sooooo y'all to me

OOOH NICE!!!!!! thank u for the offer my friend :3 it's deffo interesting! the dialects and stuff are very fascinating and one thing i want to learn more about is all different languages' dialects because like, i'm so interested in the diff dialects of spanish for example! i think it's very interesting and i wish people taught more aobut that piece in language learning

NICE NICE NICE! yeah double learning languages is hard i so many times wanted to speak arabic in my spanish class (those two languages have a decent number of similarities actually!! in like, loan words :3) memory problems will do it to u yeah </3 ur so brave ... and no yeah i absolutely feel that with the resources thing it's so hard to find ones that are actually effective? wish there was like a khan academy just for languages, since i know duolingo is a little spotty and most of the other ones i am at least familiar with are like, locally offered things and whatnot

JELLYFISH :3 i thought you'd like him he's such a friend innit he

[the-darklings]

If v/s but santi waking up with amnesia n not remembering anything how would V feel? (I crave angst hint hint)

Oooh, Dory!Santino has made a comeback, I see. We love to see it. 

Okay, first of all, one very important thing to consider here is the fact that there was a major relationship break for S/V in ch13 in the form of “I choose you.” & “He loves you.” V is kinda now in the place where she can try but can no longer pretend with Santino. Her default setting has always been to push it all away and wall him off which she can no longer do. 

In terms of Santino,,, I think he would always remember her in a sense. Even if it isn’t memory necessarily, it would still very much be a feeling. A familiarity. It kinda falls back on my mentioned before ideal that every version of Santino will always love every version of V. That draw will always be there for him regardless of anything.  

I think for her just seeing barely any recollection would be,,, devastating to be frank. She’s so used to having him by her side. Even as a friend, a companion, someone she trusts. Sometimes I feel like people forget that they have known each other for six years. A lot has happened in those six years that you’ve gotten only glimpses into. 

She would 100% stay by his side even if it hurts though. This time, it’s her turn to protect him and keep him safe because too many would be eager to use this against Santino and Camorra if it got out. So the Four, Ares/Roberto and V just form a bubble of protection. 

(I have many thoughts so the rest is going under the cut)

The beginning is rough. Santino is completely different. He gets confused easily and while his injuries heal that’s extremely dangerous. He is afraid, he doesn’t know who these people are or why everything is hurting so badly. No is able to calm him down until V finally shows up looking like she’s been through hell herself. The realisation that he doesn’t remember anything is crushing. No first meeting, no dancing, or joking, no Chicago, or Naples, or Prague, no war against Albanians, no “I can wait.” No amore, cara mia, bella. He looks at her but his eyes are empty of that warmth that’s uniquely hers. It’s a punch and a kick but she grits her teeth because he needs her. She’s the one to pull him to her, using gentle Italian to communicate. And there is something. This woman who sparks something. Through terror and confusion emerges something else. He’s caught in her stare and goes still. She’s telling him to breathe he realises. In his mother tongue. One, two, three, four, five. Like she’s done it a thousand times herself. 

She tells him who she is. It takes time. Baby steps. His mind is scattered. The doctor tries to check him but his panic fits explode like volcanoes and it’s her that he anchors himself to. She tells him they were friends. She tells him they’ve known each other for years. He believes her. Unlike others who feel distant and unknown, she brings warmth. She reminds him of the sun. She takes him out to the terrace often. Talks with him. He likes her voice. He listens more than talks. She looks so sad when she thinks he can’t see her looking at him though. She’s important to him. He doesn’t know how he knows but with her things are just a bit clearer. He can almost grasp memories. Without her, everything is cold and terrifying. The first time he wakes up and she isn’t in the apartment, everything slips away. He regresses. He doesn’t know these people. She rushes back to the penthouse after a frantic phonecall from Roberto only to find him trashing his room, completely overcome by panic. It’s manic and raw and bubbles right out of him and nothing makes sense, who is he, why is he here, and-

And she’s there. The sun. The woman who smells of flowers and soil and grass and gentle murmurs. He grasps onto her like a lifeline and she holds him, breathing into his neck. He’s Santino - always Santi to her though - as she talks about his life. She pulls him to the floor, her fingers slipping through his hair and holds his injured hands. He curls into her. She is the only safety he can feel anymore. She’s V. She’s important. He feels like himself with her. She keeps talking. He’s practically slumped in her lap as she smooths his curls away, telling him every little thing she can recall about him and their time together. She pauses for a while at one point, her expression softening before she tells him about Emilia. She was his mother. She died to protect him. She was so, so brave just like he is. She would be proud of him, his sun tells him, and he doesn’t know why he feels a weight in his chest. Why such acute longing rakes through his chest. 

But there is something, something, something. A glimmer of a face. He grasps onto it with teeth and fury and desperation, yanking on it harshly.

Her name was Emilia. 

It’s the first recollection he manages to retain. His mother. And V, this woman of warmth is the one who had shone on that darkness, and given him a part of himself back.  

It’s around then that they realise that maybe - just maybe - they can claw some things back. Even if it’s just pieces. 

They go back to Italy, to Naples. V walks him through his home. Hand-in-hand. He still doesn’t like having her far away from him. He still slips too much without her. It’s getting easier though. Just a bit. Baby steps, she says with a smile. He likes her smile. He likes her, too. 

They eat together, she shows him the gardens, she picks oranges and watches him closely. He feels like he should recall something here. Something important but it doesn’t come. She looks disappointed but hides it well with a quick smile and he hates that expression because he sees it often - it’s the he-failed-to-remember-something expression. 

He finds pictures of his mother that same day. It’s right beside a photo of him and his sun. She looks beautiful. They look...they’re there, together, and something in his chest swells. Him in the photo is looking at his sun like she really is the sun but there is more. There is desire and longing and fondness there that he tells himself won’t be right to feel for her now.

Several months crawl by like that. Pieces come back, others don’t. He gets headaches often. All side effects the doctors tell them. Normal, even good, they believe. It’s a battle he wants to win. Some days he’s happy, others he’s miserable. He’s happy when she’s with him, soothing his headaches away. He wants to know her again. He asks her questions. She answers them all even though he sees the faint sadness that clings to her as she does. 

One day he apologises for it. For forgetting her. He can’t imagine doing any of this without her. Without he won’t have gotten this far anyway. She calls him an idiot and hugs him close and that brings back a piece of her back. A faint recall of him in a hospital bed, poison, and “You came for me.”

Time crawls. She takes him to a secluded house not far from his home and he finds paintings there. The place is quint and peaceful and he loves it there at once. His sun tells him that this place belonged to his mother. He loves it even more, then. He watches her in the light as she tells him all she knows about this place, transfixed. He never wants her to disappear like his memories did. Not ever.  

One day, a year and a half after the incident, he wakes up to birds chirping outside his window. He doesn’t like waking up early but wants to see his sun. Wants to hear her laugh. Maybe something new will be rediscovered today. Those days always end up being his favourite. Her smile is the brightest on those days. 

He walks downstairs and can already hear her voice which makes him smile. She’s discussing something with the one he doesn’t like Hector. He can hear others in the kitchen, too. 

“I was thinking of taking Santino to Paris,” she says. “Is that doable given the situation?”

Paris. Something, something, something. 

He enters the kitchen and stops dead in his tracks. 

She’s standing there, bathed in sunlight. Her feet bare, a pale sundress on, and her loose hair damp from the shower as she looks in his direction her smile widening at the sight of him and something inside his head cracks-

It’s like a hole being punched through his head with enough strength to almost make him stumble. 

Before there were only puzzle pieces he was staring at blankly and without understanding them and now there’s everything. 

“(Name),” he breathes, amazed, relieved. 

He watches as her expression crumbles to pieces at that and she stumbles through the kitchen, throwing her arms around him as she sobs into his neck.

“I forgot to tell you something, amore mio,” he breathes, savouring that pet-name, even though the ache against his temple as everything tries to settle inside his head. “I love you.” 

[heroesmusings]

FULL NAME: Thor Odinson

MEANING: Thunder

NICKNAME: Pointbreak

MEANING: It’s what Tony calls him

AGE APPEARANCE: Appears 36, actually over 1000

BIRTHDAY: Unknown

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Unknown

SPECIES: Asgardian God

GENDER: Cis male

ALLERGIES: None

SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Pansexual 

THEME SONG(S): Thunder by Imagine Dragons, Sunlight by Hozier, Lover of the Light by Mumford and Sons, Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy

APPEARANCE

HAIR COLOR:  Dark Blonde

HAIR STYLE AND LENGTH: At times it can be long to shoulder length but also can be buzzed on the side with a little more on top 

EYES COLOR: Blue

EYESIGHT: 20/20 he’s a gOD

HEIGHT: 6″6��

WEIGHT: 235 lbs

OUTFIT/CLOTHING STYLE: Usually he wears his Asgardian get up but when he dresses down he wears jeans and a hoodie

ABNORMALITIES: Missing an eye

DISTINGUISHING MARKS(SCARS,MOLES): Many battle scars cover his body

SELF CARE(MAKE UP): Sometimes sports a beard

FIRST IMPRESSION ON PEOPLE: He looks big and intimidating but he’s actually super friendly once spoken to  

SKIN COLOR: White to tan

BODY TYPE/BUILD: He’s built like a goddamn GOD, there is no way to explain it.. He’s big and made of pure muscle 

DEFAULT EXPRESSION: He tends to look serious just because he was raised a prince 

POSTURE: Thor has perfect posture he was PRINCE OKAY 

PIERCINGS: None 

DESCRIBE THEIR VOICE: Thor’s voice is deep, with a bit of a forgien accent and when angry his voice carries like thunder 

RELATIONS:

MOM: Frigga

HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Thor was so close to his mother, he adored her with all his heart and misses her every day

DAD: Odin

HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Thor has mixed feelings when it comes to his father. He used to think of him as a good man but as things came to light and realized some things Thor has slowly come to realize that Odin was never a good father 

SIBLINGS: Hela, Loki

HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Thor loves his brother, sees the good in him but Loki doesn’t like him and neither did Hela…. So not well. 

CHILDREN: N/A

HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: N/A

OTHER FAMILY MEMBERS: N/A

PAST LOVER(S): Many one night stands, Jane Foster (ex-girlfriend)

CURRENT LOVER: Bruce Banner

REACTION TO MEETING SOMEONE NEW: He likes making friends he’s really a sweet guy

ABILITY TO WORK WITH OTHERS: Thor is very easy to work with and loves to work with people 

HOW SOCIABLE(LONER,ETC): Thor is vERY sociable he loves going out and being around people 

FRIENDS: Hemidall, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Carol Danvers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton and literally anyone else

PETS: None

LEAST FAVORITE TYPE OF PERSON: Anyone who thinks they can take advantage of meeker people 

PARENTAL TYPE(PROTECTIVE,ETC): Playful and Protective 

FAVORITE PEOPLE: Bruce, Steve, Bucky and Hemidall 

LEAST FAVORITE PEOPLE: The Dark Elves, Thaons, 

PERSONALITY:

..WHEN YOU FIRST MEET THEM: He looks regal from a distance but he’s very warm and friendly 

..AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY LIKE YOU): Teasing, Excitable, Gentle

..AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY DISLIKE YOU): Gruff, Cold, Confrontational 

FAVORITE COLOR: Silver 

FAVORITE FOOD: a stew his mother would make

FAVORITE ANIMAL: ALL ANIMALS, but he’s partial to snakes

FAVORITE INSTRUMENT: ALL OF THEM?

FAVORITE ELEMENT: Fire

LEAST FAVORITE COLOR: White

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: Weird midgard foods

LEAST FAVORITE ANIMAL: NONE HE LOVES THEM ALL 

LEAST FAVORITE INSTRUMENT: None?

LEAST FAVORITE ELEMENT: Water

HOBBIES: training, video games, learning anything he can about earth

USUAL MOOD: Usually in a good mood

DRINK/SMOKE/DRUGS: Drinks socially

DARK VERSION OF SELF: Thor would be the perfect weapon, powerful and unforgiving, the realms would tremble at his feet

LIGHT VERSION OF SELF: close to what he is now, happy and unworried 

HOW SERIOUS ARE THEY: IF the situation is a tense one he’s very serious but other than that he’s rather joyful

BELIEVE IN GHOSTS: Yes and no?? He can connect to the allfather but that’s it

(IN)DEPENDANT: Thor thinks himself rather independent but he’s not. He’s very connected to everyone he loves

SOFT SPOT/VULNERABILITY: Talking about any of his family, when people try to threaten the avengers, people hating Hulk

OPINION ON SWEARING: He’s rather clean spoken just because he's a prince

DAREDEVIL VS CAUTIOUS: oooh daredevil

MUSIC TYPE: he leans towards what Steve tends to play, he also loves classical music and typical asgardian music 

MOVIE TYPE: Anything ANYTHING 

BOOK TYPE: Again Thor loves to learn so anything 

GAME TYPE: If it’s Asgardian games, it’s anything that has to do with brute strength or drinking -- human ones he doesn’t really care about

COMFORTABLE TEMPERATURE: Thor likes it a little on the cooler side

SLEEPING PATTERN: When Thor is out HE’S FUCKING OUT, he’s a rock its impossible to move him. 

CLEANLINESS/NEATNESS: Thor is used to being cleaned up after but he is polite so he keeps it as clean as he can

DESIRED PET: ALL PETS EVER

HOW DO THEY PASS TIME: Helping rebuild Asgard

BIGGEST SECRET: I don’t know if Thor really has any secrets? He’s an open book anyone can ask him anything

HERO/WHO THEY LOOK UP TO: His mother, Frigga

WHAT ANIMAL WOULD THEY BE: the biggest puppy dog on eaRTH

FEARS: Bruce getting hurt, anything happening to the avengers, and losing Asgard again

COMFORTS: Being around the avengers, spending alone time with Bruce and training

HOW DO THEY ACT WHEN THEY ARE:

SAD: Thor is a prince, he has always been told to hide negative emotions, so Thor bottles it up, he puts on a brave face because he is a warrior and royal. So for a long time no one knows he’s sad until he starts pulling away and secluding himself 

HAPPY: Thor is like a ray of sunshine, he talks fast, and tends to just want to touch and laugh

ANGRY: ……………………...AN ANGRY GOD IS NOT SOMETHING YOU WANT. It’s pure rage, the sky turns black -- a storm swirls above him and he’s lit up with lightning. He’s brutal and will not show mercy 

AFRAID: Thor doesn’t really fear? He’s never been allowed to fear. He’s a god and he knows his powers but when he is he tries to face it head on, take it by the horns and conquer it. 

LOVE SOMEONE: Gentle, and understanding -- he cares deeply about them and checks up on them often. He’s always around and is expressing his admiration for them 

HATE SOMEONE: He’s cold, which is a VERY rare thing for thor. He doesn’t hate many but its an angry hate, so if he hates you, then you’ve done something so wrong

WANT SOMETHING: He asks permission.. That is what he was taught to do, so he’s polite as he requests whatever it is.

CONFUSED: He wants it explained to him he loves learning okay 

HOW DO THEY REACT TO:

DANGER: THOR LOVES DANGER, but he’s protective if it involves people he loves

SOMEONE THEY HATE WHO HAS A CRUSH ON THEM: I’m sorry if but Thor hate you you are dead no way around it so YOU CANT HAVE A CRUSH 

PROPOSAL TO MARRY: Thor would be ????? so confused. He would have not expected such a thing but he’d of course say yes and would want a human and an asgardian wedding 

DEATH OF LOVED ONE: He interlizes it, he hasn’t ever had a proper way to express his mourning.. He’s still recovering from the death of his family. 

DIFFICULT GAME/MATH/ETC: He’d try the best he can, and usually he figures it out

INJURY: ...he’s a god so he’d just take it as a badge of honor

SOMETHING IRRESISTABLY CUTE: He would want to squish thank you

LOSS OF HOURS OF WORK: Thor doesn’t LOSE hours of work okay he’s always wanted on missions 

KNOWLEDGE:

LANGUAGES: Thor has allspeak so literally everything

SCHOOLING LEVEL: Graduated from formal Asgardian education and warrior school 

FAVORITE SUBJECT (S): Ya know… fighting 

INTERESTED CAREERS: Valkyrie until he realized it was for women only 

EXPERTISE: asgardian physiology, weather manipulation, flight, electric manipulation, combat

PUZZLES: Thor would rather hand them off to someone else so he can do other things

CHEMISTRY: for human, not so great at that because he’s not from earth but asgardian chemistry he excelled in it

MATH: Again, human math? Not so great but Asgard? Expert 

ENGLISH: HE didn’t HAVE ENGLISH 

GEOGRAPHY: he knows how to get to realm to realm 

POLITICS/LAW: Given he’s a prince he had to be very involved in all of it

ECONOMY/ACCOUNTING: Again a prince so its his job

COOKING: Nope not at all, he’s always had things cooked for him

SEWING: Medical sewing he’s okay at

MECHANICS: This is just way over Thor’s head all of it

BOTANY (FLOWERS): Not really interested in all of that 

MYTHOLOGY: HE IS THE MYTH

DRAMATICS(ACTING,SINGING): Not for him, for Loki maybe

READING LEVEL: Proficient in all languages 

HOW GOOD ARE THEY AT PLANNING AHEAD: somewhat? He did have to do battle strategies 

ROMANCE:

DO THEY TAKE INITIATIVE: Yes ALL THE TIME, he’s so touch

HOW DO THEY ACT(SHY,ETC): He’s fairly forward honestly 

GENTLEMAN/LADYLIKE VS KLUTZY: A GENTLEMAN HE’S PRINCE

GO SLOW VS JUMP INTO: With people before Bruce? He usually just jumped right in but he likes taking it slow with Bruce 

PROTECTIVE: uh hell yeah

ACT LIKE FRIENDS OR LOVERS: Both 

WHAT KIND OF PRESENTS DO THEY BUY: Thor likes bringing Bruce all sorts of things from Asgard honestly, anything that he thinks Bruce will like he brings

TYPE OF KISSER: Surprisingly, Thor is a very soft and gentle lover. So his kisses are the same, gentle but VERY through

DO THEY WANT KIDS: i don’t…. Know. i actually don’t think it’s crossed his mind?

DO THEY WANT TO MARRY: YES YES 

MAKE GOOD OR BAD DECISIONS: Uh both, but he likes to think he’s got good intentions 

ARE THEY ROMANTIC: yes OF COURSE

HOW ARE THEY IN BED: Thor’s a god.. And he’s very well versed so sleeping with Thor is truly otherworldly

GET JEALOUS EASY: Actually no, not really

WIFE/HUBBY BEATER: NEVER

MARRY FOR MONEY: LMAO NO NOT AT ALL

FAVORITE POSITION: oh my god.. he for sure likes to top.. Really any position he just likes intimacy 

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN ON THEIR DREAM DATE: DATE ON ASGARD, he wants to treat Bruce to a perfect evening on asgard filled with food and magic and science and watch the sunset over the water

OPINION ON SEX: Sex is almost a ritual to him? It’s a very important and meaningful thing..  He never takes having sex lightly. Its meant to be a celebration of intimacy.

[gaiatheorist]

Plastic straws, and platitudes.

I should be breathing an enormous sigh of relief, having the tribunal panel’s decision that I qualify for a three year period of having an ‘official’ disability on paper. It’s me, though, I’m caught up in a turmoil-Tsunami about what could go wrong next. Not the physical fact that my eyes have been consistently ‘bad’ for four days now, and the third aneurysm is sitting in the part of my brain that controls the blood supply to my retinas, that’s too obvious. I’ll have a scan in September, hopefully I won’t go completely and permanently blind before that. What I’m over-processing is the fact that DWP can still attempt to block or delay the legal overturn of their original ‘decision’, that I’m not-disabled-enough to qualify for support.

DWP’s ‘decision’ wasn’t really a decision at all, it was a copy-pasted nightmare of jumbled-assumptions, in the hope that I’d go “Oh, well, that’s that, I’d better just get on with it on my own.” Like I did the first time, I’ve found my original eloquent-articulate self-doubt post on one of the forums I used at the time of the first application, and, ‘reading for content’, I was a plastic straw person at that point. Not to be confused with a ‘strawman’, like, say “People faking disability to claim benefits.” 

The plastic straw people have been out in force since the government had the bright idea of ‘banning’ single-use plastic straws, in a vain attempt to be seen to be doing something positive, in amongst all the negative, and all the nothing they’re currently doing. Straw-splainers are very fond of the phrase “Can’t you just...?”, because ‘just’ is a very tiny word to them; I can’t ‘just’ do a lot of things, ‘just’ is not a small consideration for me. Plastic straws are not an issue for me, but there’s another wave of insidious not-disabled-enough rhetoric bubbling up amongst sections of the non-disabled public, just what I don’t need after horrible years and a few very stressful months of evidencing that I am disabled-enough. 

Before the brain haemorrhage, I still had a plethora of medical issues, I used to joke that I did my Christmas shopping on the NHS direct website, but I could mostly ‘pass’ for whatever-normal-is. I could ‘just’ say “Can I move seats, I can’t sit in this light?” or “Will you help me with this, please? My left hand has reduced function.” I could ‘just’ keep my office blinds closed to reduce the risk of losing working hours to photo-sensitive hemiplegic migraine, and patiently re-close them every time some other person came in and trilled “Oooh, I don’t know how you see anything in here!” I could ‘just’ wear extra layers of clothing, to ease the impacts of the Raynaud’s and Arthritis, I could ‘just’ say “No, thank you.” to foods that I knew would flare my stomach issues up. I could ‘just’ keep going through the sporadic stretches of poor mental health. That perseverance and pragmatism is hard-wired, even when I really, REALLY want to give up, I don’t, which has put me in mind of Venus DeMileage’s utterly beautiful book ‘The Avenue of Regrettable Farewells: A Tale Untold In The Telling’, but I mustn’t get sidetracked. I was a plastic straw person. I ‘could’ function, despite my veritable telephone-directory of underlying ailments, so I couldn’t see why other people couldn’t. (Another side-rabbit-hole I mustn’t go down is how consistent with Autism some of my beliefs and behaviours are.)

I know what the plastic straw people are doing, because, to a lesser degree, I used to be one of them. Some of them ‘see no ships’ from where they are, and some of them think that a stiff upper lip is a panacea. Some of them, however, are insensitively deluded that everyone has the same level of functionality that they do. The dismissive “Can’t you just...?” crew, lacking in the empathetic department. *I* can do all manner of things that ‘most’ people can’t, but, after the initial tut-and-head-shake that Brenda from accounts can’t un-jam the printer, or Doris can’t lift a five-litre water bottle, or Bob doesn’t know how to gut a fish, I don’t spend hours me-splaining, I ask if they want help. (Part of my undoing was seeing ‘help’ as a four-letter-word, most people learned to be cagey-cautious around offering to do things ‘for’ me. That tenacity was do-able before the brain injuries, less-so afterwards, but the pattern was embedded.) 

What I’m seeing creeping through my internet window on the world is an increase in the not-disabled-enough nonsense, and I know that some of ‘us’, with less-visible disabilities are catching the sharp side of it. Personally, I’ve modified most of my behaviours and activities to ensure that my disability has as little impact on others as possible. I just don’t like inconveniencing people, so anything I ‘need’ to do is done early in the day, while I’m more lucid, and less fatigued. The dread-of-being-caught creeps in here, because I ‘can’ sometimes walk to Tesco, and manage a basket around the shop without incident. Only ever during the early part of the day, and certainly not every week. Process that, plastic straw people, sometimes I’m not physically capable of ‘popping into Tesco for milk.’ (There’s a 25-page document I didn’t present at my tribunal, detailing all the things I could remember having difficulties with, and how I adapted to avoid risk to self or others, I just chose ‘popping to the supermarket for milk’ as an ‘everyday’ example.) Yes, Janet, you DID see me in Tesco three weeks last Tuesday, and no, that doesn’t mean I’m fully functional, and a benefit fraudster. 

In the same way as I ‘can’ do what I need to to survive, thousands, if not millions of other people in the UK are adapting to their limitations, at variable levels of cost to themselves. I don’t drive, so I haven’t been tutted at for parking in a disabled bay, and I consciously try to avoid the need to use public toilets, so I don’t have an argument with any randoms that “That toilet is for disabled people.” I don’t need to use plastic straws to drink, so I haven’t had to justify to anyone why their ‘just’ alternative wouldn’t be viable. ‘Had to’ is my issue, I don’t ‘have to’ explain myself to anyone, BUT I deliberately go out of my way to avoid situations where people might think they were owed justification of why I appear to have stopped to tie the laces on slip-on shoes. (It’s vertigo, I’d had instances of it before the aneurysm ruptured, it’s always there now, at a background level, sometimes it peaks, and I feel like I’m going to fall over, ‘tying my shoes’ puts me closer to the ground when I do actually wobble, and I’ll always make every effort to ‘get out of the way’ when I do squat down.) 

The platitudes. Gods save me from the in-laws, who are due to pick up my son this afternoon. To their minds, I’m ‘better’, in part because I’ve minimised my difficulties for so long, and in part because I avoid them like the plague. They don’t see me shambling about the place half-blind, because I deliberately sit down when they arrive. (In my alcove ‘office’, so they can’t try to touch me.) They don’t believe in mental illness, and they’re ancient, so they know a LOT of people with disabilities and health conditions that they class as ‘worse’ than the level of superficial functionality they see in me. I didn’t have to have speech therapy, like uncle Roger did after his stroke. I don’t have visible scars from cancer surgery like two of my ex brothers-in-law. I don’t have a blue badge in my car. I don’t answer the door to them in food-stained pyjamas, so I’m “Looking well!”

They, and other older people, LOVE to talk about other people’s infirmities, but, with my adaptations that don’t include plastic straws, I appear functional for the narrow windows they see me in, so it’s platitudes-ahoy. “It could have been worse, lass.” “You’re lucky, lass.” I have to be very cautious with that one, because the father-in-law’s first wife died as a result of a brain haemorrhage. That cagey-caution led to one of my dodgy coping strategies, the practice of telling people I was ‘fine’ when they asked, because I simply couldn’t tolerate the platitudes that would pour out of them if I said anything else. Everybody seemed to have a next-door-neighbour’s distant cousin three-times-removed who’d had brain surgery, or a stroke, and were ‘so brave’ about it, putting the increasingly-automatic adaptations I was making just to exist into perspective. I rarely mention in ‘real life’ that I have a constant background headache, that most of the time I feel as if the room is spinning around me, or that I have roaming blind-spots that frequently join up, leaving me ‘legally blind.’ There’s a massive catalogue of constant and fluctuating symptoms that come with my damaged brain that I just don’t mention, because the emotional/psychological side of the brain injuries have reduced my capacity to deal with platitudes. 

Yes, it could have been worse, and yes, it’s lovely that your next door neighbour’s sister-uncle had a stroke, and learned to ride a unicycle afterwards, but it’s not particularly relevant to me, is it? It’s not even just lay-people and random acquaintances, it’s medical-people, too, I wanted to bite my counsellor’s nose off every time he said “Some people wouldn’t have been resilient enough to come through that!”, and every time my (lovely) GP starts one of his rambling “Some people...” anecdotes, it’s really hard not to look at my watch. Even the neuro-psychologist did it, and I’m sure she wasn’t prepared for my ‘Good enough ISN’T enough’ response.

I know it’s social conditioning, that, faced with an unpalatable truth, the vast majority of people will default to ‘look on the bright side’ and ‘it could have been worse’ responses, before starting with the unsolicited advice. For me, no amount of mindfulness, or yoga, or fish-oil, or ANYTHING is going to undo the fact that I have brain damage. My son ‘gets it’, and will occasionally joke “Have you tried just NOT having brain damage?” when he catches me doing something more-odd-than-usual. I am relatively functional for a smaller part of the day than a fully-able person, and I’m only able to sustain that window of functionality through masses of exhausting adaptations. Have I tried not-adapting, to extend my lucid window? No, I haven’t, because the adaptations are what keep me more-safe. Without always knowing where the next thing I can grab, or lean on is, I fall over a lot. Without having sufficient notice to plan any journey, my anxieties about the potential difficulties I could have tip me into a what-if loop that makes me physically ill. There are multiple tedious adaptations to every aspect of my life now, and plastic straw people don’t see what I can’t do. 

I don’t know where I’m going with this any more, I’m in limbo with the disability benefit and the unemployment benefit, and I’m scheduled to meet my work-coach AND be re-assessed by the mental health team next week. The work-coach will give me ‘chin up’ platitudes, and the mental health team will be baffled that I know what I’m doing wrong, but don’t seem able to stop it. What I’m doing wrong is trying to survive as a disabled person in a very able-focused world. The disability and unemployment processes in the UK are hideous, skewed-snapshots of whether I can hold a pen and such, rather than whether I’d be able to hold a pen all day without sticking it up my nose when the cognitive fatigue kicks in. The plastic straws that the government want to ‘take’ are the visible tip of the iceberg, the underlying part being the insidious restructure of support and benefit systems, that the people who don’t need plastic straws aren’t aware of. They’re aware of the bluff and bluster about ‘making work pay’, and ‘more rigorous testing to reduce fraud’, and, of course, they’ve all seen the newspaper reports and TV programmes about benefit cheats. The disabled aren’t just disadvantaged, we’re virtually demonized, then damned if we do/don’t. This ignorant backlash against something as seemingly innocuous as plastic straws is a ripple in a stream that was already turbulent, it’s spreading, while-ever fully able people feel they’re entitled to judge, question, and make assumption about the abilities of people with disabilities.   

To some people, it’s ‘just’ a plastic straw, and, for some of those people a platitude about their great-uncle Bulgaria who lost both legs, and then crawled a marathon is meant to either motivate or shame the disabled person who still has both legs. We’re not looking at life from the same angle, it’s not fair to assume that because ‘you’ can perform action-x, everyone can, that’s how children think, not adults. (With the exception of adults with disabilities consistent with Autism...) It’s not ‘just’ a straw, for some people this guilty-until-proven-innocent society we’re becoming will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.