#tw mentioned seizure

[abbeyofcyn]

Krang infection 42

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[dumgum04]

Continuation of the last doodle

(Transcript):

EDOARDO ABRUZZO

NON-EPILEPTIC SEIZURES

PNES

1 - 251 - 263 - 0796

DO NOT RESTRAIN - SAFE POSITION

[sleepy-bi666]

hazbin hotel headcanons but its based on my dr- vox edition

autistic but doesn't know he is (due to dying in the 1950s and it being considered "rare")

intersex trans man (uses he/they pronouns)

bisexual

off and on relationship with valentino

glitches a lot when hes stressed/overstimulated

you can literally power him off with a remote (velvette does this whenever he spends too much time in his office)

Very much overprotective

He often forgets to eat

he would've loved Baby Bugs music

literally owns like five pairs of the same outfit

his head makes a pinging noise when he shuts off from low battery

he acts like a sickly victorian child when ill

speaking of being ill, he doesn't get sick often, but when he does it hits hard

he was the oldest child of his family

would literally kill for those he loves

severe trust issues

massive shark hyperfixation (Vark is his favorite pet shark)

if human movies get to hell, his favorites would be M3gan and Afraid

he techinally supports piracy unless its something he owns/created (lmao hypocrite)

i hc he died from a seizure

he essentially raised his siblings (think Luisa vibes from encanto)

[written-by-jayy]

Prompt #7

Carbon Monoxide Poisoning

Masterlist

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I don't think I've ever seen Carbon Monoxide poisoning in whump...

I mean, there's just so much potential!

Characters falling ill with some mysterious sickness, everyone in the house having similar, if not the same symptoms.

Maybe it's just dizziness, fatigue, headaches, muscle aches, and nausea. All things that are inconvenient, and after a certain point, become worrisome and quite concerning but not life threatening and some might just brush off. Maybe if they live alone they think they're over-dramatic or that their age or past experiences are finally getting to them. If they have roommates, maybe they chock it up to food poisoning or seasonal allergies being extra bad or maybe it's all the studying, work, and/or parties. Some could even think it's a virus of some kind.

But it continues to get worse. With things like seizures, hallucinations, and disorientation making a character who lives alone think they're going completely insane or maybe they finally go to the hospital because y'know. Seizures. If they're roommates, then wow, that's some bad food poisoning. Or they've been having some awful trips lately.

Anyway, eventually if nothings done about it, it can leave a character or two comatose or even eventually dead.

Just seems quite whumpy and with a ton of potential. Whether it's a sickfic, environmental whump, etc.

Not to mention; what about a recovering whumpee? What or who are they hallucinating? This sure would make physical and mental recovery a hell of a lot harder. Especially when the caretaker is extremely ill and experiencing similar symptoms as the whumpee.

Would be a shame if this happened to your poor recovering blorbos :(

[pomeraniandancer]

I bought BG3 three weeks ago, and I adore Karlach as much as the next person, but speaking as someone who has had an external fixator (and still has some internal fixation), MY GOD do those rivets look painful.

I'm obviously still pretty early in the game, but thus far it seems Larian missed an opportunity to include a chronic pain aspect to her infernal engine storyline.

[erebus-the-answer]

Here are my sprite edits of what I think Ryuji and Yusuke's moms might look like! Yusuke's mom, I named her Tsumugi, and Ryuji's mom I named Saeko! I put some more detailed descriptions about both of them under the cut!

Keep in mind that everything under the cut is mostly my headcanons and only vaguely makes sense to the actual p5 lore lol

Tsumugi Kitagawa:

In an AU where Tsumugi didn't die due to Madarame's negligence, I find myself liking the idea that the moment when Madarame refused to try and save her life was the moment when Tsumugi would decide to turn her life around for the sake of her son. Leaving Madarame's abusive hold on her and her son with nothing to her name besides the clothes on her back, Tsumugi and Yusuke found themselves at a women's shelter. It was there where she met Ryuji and Saeko for the first time, but only briefly.

Tsumugi eventually got herself on her feet, but times were still tough for the single mother and her son. They managed to find a small room together, but it certainly wasn't the best way to live.

After a few years of quiet living for Yusuke and Tsumugi, with no more willing pupils left at his atelier and with a sudden change of heart, Madarame confessed to the abuse and plagiarism that he committed. He released to the public that Tsumugi was the true painter of The Sayuri.

Almost instantly life changed for Tsumugi and Yusuke. Tsumugi was offered almost endless deals with TV companies, movie producers, and interviewers. Because of stress being bad for her epilepsy, Tsumugi turned down all of the offers that she was given besides one: the chance to teach at Kosei High. She settled with this, and because of her status as a teacher and Yusuke's great skill, he was offered a scholarship! Saeko Sakura: Saeko Sakura (maiden name Uryuu) is Ryuji's mother.

She was a young, dumb, punk teenager when she first met Ryuji's father, a member of one of her favorite bands. He was also a teenager.

Ryuji wasn't a planned pregnancy, and when Saeko found out that she was pregnant, she went and told Ryuji's father that he had to take responsibility. He begrudgingly married her and settled down with her, but he always resented her and Ryuji for it.

Following the Persona 5 canon, Ryuji's father was verbally and physically abusive to his wife and son. unlike in canon, instead of his father up and leaving, it was Saeko and Ryuji who left, finding themselves in a womens shelter for some time.

Saeko's carer as a nurse helped the two of them to find another place to live fairly quickly, though because of this, Saeko found herself working many bizarre hours.

Eventually, she ended up meeting Sojiro Sakura, a man who worked at Cafe Leblanc which she frequently visited. She instantly found a sort of attraction the man, but she was certain that he was married to a certain Wakaba Isshiki because the two of them had two children together. She later came to find out that they were in a different sort of family arrangement and the two of them were more platonic than anything. She found love and a new family in Sojiro Sakura and his children, and they lived happily ever after!

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Random shit while I have a headache again.

The Eclipses Show AU Edition!

Solar treats Backup and Original as his brothers once they get through the awkward adjustment phases. Solar doesn’t exactly have a good relationship with either of his brothers so he actually secretly does like having Backup and Original around because it feels like he finally has someone that cares about him.

Backup has physical backlash from the star. Namely occasional seizures and memory gaps. The memory gaps are mainly from his time having the star but there’s also a few memory gaps he has from controlled shocks given to him by the OG Blood Moon twins.

Original has high anxiety around wild animals. He just does. He doesn’t know why. In reality, it’s because animals would further break his body while he was offline and his AI developed an irrational fear of wild animals. A wolf was the reason half his leg was missing actually. And a bear was what broke his faceplate and eyes. His internals, for five months, housed a bunny. He’s terrified of most animals.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

Real tired of media using someone pouring liquor away as shorthand for recovering from alcoholism.

Hope that person doesn't experience any alcohol seizures! That'd be unfortunate! 😐

[rattfinkswife]

I have a confession to make… I actually made whump fanfics of my main f/o (Rattfink) where he has epilepsy and tourette’s syndrome and I feel like he would stop loving me if he found out…

[theoi-crow]

Hey there, hope you're doing well! This may be a little bit of a sensitive ask (tw pet death) so please feel free to ignore it, but I was wondering if there were any myths about what happens to our pets when they pass, and/or how to honor them. I was thinking of having a little mini altar for my dog, and to give dog treats as offerings, but I wasn't sure if that was proper. Thanks in advance!!

I'm so sorry for your loss…

The ancient Greeks and Romans loved their dogs a lot and although there aren't a lot of stories about dogs in ancient mythology, we've found a lot of graves and epithets written by grieving owners who had to bury their dogs. Here's an example of one:

"I am in tears, while carrying you to your last resting place as much as I rejoiced when bringing you home in my own hands fifteen years ago."

Here are the rest: (LINK)

Here's a bit more on how the ancient Greeks cherished and loved their dogs. Plato even called them the greatest philosophers because they knew the difference between good and bad people: (LINK)

"The dog was a companion, protector, and hunter for the Greeks and the spiked collar…was invented by the Greeks to protect the necks of their canine friends from wolves." Source: (LINK)

So as you can see, dogs were very important to the ancient Greeks and they memorialized their dogs too so it's okay to put him on your altar. It won't be disrespectful and the gods will understand.

Here are examples of what they'd often look like:

To talk a bit more about my own grieving experience as a Hellenic polytheist and grieving my dog I hope it's okay if I tell you a bit about my own little dog who I lost this past March:

Mourning a dog is so hard because their love for us is so sincere and pure. They love fiercely and protect us as much as they can even when they're so much smaller than whoever they are challenging (my dog was a tiny Maltese Poodle but boy did that dog loved to bark and try to protect me.)

His death came a lot earlier than we expected, he got early onset doggy dementia also known as canine cognitive decline, which is very similar to human dementia.

He began to forget who we were and his health took a nosedive a few months before he passed. We chose to put him down before he got to the final stage (seizures) because as someone who grew up taking care of someone with seizures, I knew he was going to be in excruciating pain. But because he also had dementia he didn't know who we were so I knew he'd be very scared and in excruciating pain with less than a year to live.

Two weeks before his final appointment he lived like a king. He ate all his favorite foods and treats, watched Hamilton everyday (his favorite character was George Washington) and we had the vet come to our apartment so he would be very comfortable since he hated going to the vet.

The Aftermath:

Mourning the loss of a loved one is hard and although we're all familiar with feeling sadness when we grieve, no one ever talks about the guilt and rage that might come over you during your grieving process.

I was angry at my gods

I didn't even know why, I just was. I was mad at them, myself, my spouse, my school, my neighbors, I just wanted to be left alone. But because I was angry at my gods, my Catholic guilt kicked in and I felt guilty for being angry with my gods. I was spiraling because I was trying not to be angry and trying so hard to be sad instead.

But that's when Apollo showed up and I had an honest conversation with him about the guilt behind how I was grieving:

He told me that anger is a natural part of the mourning period. Not everyone will grieve the same but being angry with your gods is normal because when we lose someone who we loved so much there will be a flood of emotions that we didn't know we would feel and forcing them to express in only a sad way keeps you from truly processing your grief. My anger was a part of my grieving process, and so was my confusion and denial of having lost my dog. This was all normal.

I was so overwhelmed with my feelings of rage, guilt, and shame that we left home for a week so I could be away from my altar, my gods and from finding the many dog bones my dog hid before passing.

I desperately needed a break from my gods and they understood.

They weren't upset with me. They knew how much my dog meant to me and how much I loved him, so we left and I was able to process my emotions outside of my home. Prior to this I never understood why people in shows and movies needed to go on a trip when they suffered a loss but after my dog passed I was overwhelmed with the desire to be in nature. To be with Gaia, to be with Demeter. (Two gods I don't normally work with but I desperately needed)

It's okay to go through your own grieving process as it comes. To accept your feelings as they are.

It's okay to feel angry when you're grieving. It's also okay to be angry at your gods because they understand you're grieving. And finally, it's okay to memorialize your dog in whatever way brings you the most comfort.

My dog's little box sits on my altar. He gets his treats and has an electric candle we make sure never turns off. I often mentally see him sitting on Ares' lap or playing fetch with Hermes. He hangs out with my gods and I know my gods don't hold my grieving process against me. They know losing a dog was hard for the ancient Greeks and it's still hard for their modern followers because losing someone who loves you so unconditionally and accepts you for who you truly are without judgment is the hardest thing to do. I wanted to share this with you so you can grieve freely and honor your dog in whatever form brings you the most comfort. The gods understand and they will grieve with you & be there for you.

I personally believe all dogs go straight to the Elysian Fields because dogs are our greatest heroes.

[thestressedsimmer]

For days, Hendrie's condition grew worse. The boy had started to have fits in the middle of the night, his physicians admitted weren't sure if he would ever wake again.

Hextilda had told them where they could go. Her brother wasn't the sort to just give up. He would wake. The question was just when.

She was right in the end. He awoke a week later, confused and disoriented, wearing clothes that he didn't recall putting on. His vision was swimming as he sat up, gripping onto the side of his bed.

"Mother?" He called first and foremost. "Father?"

He sat up fully, taking a breath to prepare himself to stand.

Before he could, he felt hands on his shoulders. Somebody was in the room with him, but the presence felt comforting.

Familiar.

"Do not get up."

"You are far too weak," Jennet lectured, her voice soft and kind.

"I'm fine."

"Hendrie. That is exactly how you found yourself in this mess to begin with."

He couldn't truly argue with that, could he? His pride had brought him to this point and his pride would take him even farther if he allowed it. It seemed his sister was not planning on allowing it.

"I cannot believe none of us noticed just how frail you have gotten. Your head looks gigantic on your shoulders, it looks ridiculous."

"Thanks, Jen."

"It isn't an insult, it's a worry. If you have any hope of returning to your training, we will have to keep you well fed."

"My training, I need to get back ---"

As he tried to stand yet again, she held him down effortlessly. A fact that brought him shame; an emotion that was foreign to him. No woman should be able to do that to him.

"Hen," Jennet said, hands going down to grip onto his, "I know you want to get back to your training. I know becoming a knight means very much to you. But you. . . you were so very unwell. You sometimes would thrash around and the physician would have to grab onto you to stop you from choking."

"I don't remember this."

"You wouldn't. You weren't awake. You were asleep for days and days. The physician said you might never wake up and. . . and. . ."

Without warning, his sister threw herself into his arms. Her arms wrapped around him tightly but the tight grip did nothing to hide how she was shaking.

"I cannot bury another sibling." She said before bursting into tears.

Feeling his sister sob against him was a horrible feeling, but it brought a sense of purpose. Jennet was right, his family had buried enough people. He's sure his training will be there when he's better.

He just has to get better.

[sleepy-bi666]

playing lifegen with my cat being based around vox (his orignal kit trait was bossy btw, and i gave him gold star fishercat bcuz vox likes sharks, and gave him the seizure prone condition because of the glitches he has)

poor bud recovered from a seizure and then had another one

[unityrain24]

okay first off i hate ads but second off how in the fuck are they allowed to make flashing ads???? a high percentage of the ads i've seen lately have a bad bright, flashing saturated colours and i'm just like ????? there is no warning to this and you can't like,, skip it? or avoid it or anything?? i mean i'm lucky that i don't get seizures from bright flashing colours but it's a widely known thing that lots of people do?? what the FUCK

[unsnare]

The weirdest thing about having routine with a pet is after it dies, you still prepare the food in the next morning before it dooms on you that they died the night before. 😭

[t0ta1-w31rd0]

the people out in public watching in horror as i seize on the floor. (i saw a k0do on someone’s shirt)

[kitsunesflames]

Just a thought that won’t leave my head. Just a few years ago I was this teen.

This teen had a small service part-time job where I had to stand for four to five hours. I didn’t know what breaks were.

Every two weeks I’d get this check for $84. $98 if I was lucky and got to work a Sunday morning.

And I’d be so excited every time that check was handed to me. I’d be smiling for the rest of that day.

I would just wiped down tables, roll silverware, and seat people. That was my job parameters at least in the beginning.

I was so happy with each little check I got, smiling when I got home late even if my service dog in training at the time made a mess for me to clean up when the sun was down.

I started to sweep the restaurant, take out the trash, sort the silverware out and if I found rolled silverware that wasn’t clean enough to me I’d reroll the entire set and send back the dirty ones. I’d take drink orders for waitresses having a bad day or just needed a little help that day. I’d write down orders for them occasionally too.

I’d talk to customers and keep them happy and entertained while they were waiting to check out. I’d engage with them so they wouldn’t get mad that their waitress wasn’t immediately there to take their bill.

I got tipped once for just talking to a costumer while her waitress was calming down from a huge rush. I didn’t understand tipping very well then. Still don’t. This lovely woman put a twenty dollar bill into my hands. She was from England visiting family for the holidays. I lived all the stories each costumer was willing to tell me.

When the costumer left I tried to give that tip to the waitress in charge of the costumers table. I didn’t understand how that money was meant for me. My job was to sit people, clean tables off, and roll silverware after all. Nothing to be tipped over.

That waitress, she grabbed my hands and had me cover the bill, and slide it into my pockets. I think I understand now today why she did that. The only thing she said to me, “This money is meant for you hon. Just don’t tell no one that you were given it.” I didn’t understand why she didn’t take the cash that I was convinced was meant for her, and I didn’t understand why she seemed so sad when I tried to refuse that twenty.

I had a seizure three months into the job while on the clock. My shift was ten minutes from ending. It wasn’t even a gran mal, and no costumers saw me seize. My mother got me and took me home early. I was said that I didn’t get to finish my shift. I’d been recently diagnosed, I guess you could say I was still in denial. That was my last shift at that job.

I wasn’t fired. I didn’t quit. I had a single on site mioclonic seizure at the end of my shift and I was no longer being called in. I asked too when my next shift was. My uncle worked at that same place, he came to me one night and handed me a check for $64 dollars.

I was frustrated. I wanted to go back to work. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t go back to sitting people and rolling silverware. I wanted to small at my bi weekly check that wasn’t much.

I miss those checks. I miss having a job. I tried two years after that to apply for another job. It was smooth sailing until the in person interview. My service dog was working and by my side 24/7 at that point. The in person interview didn’t last five minutes.

I miss the routine, I miss my busy work, I miss my small conversations, and I miss my tiny checks that said, “You got paid! You did work and you have the proof!”

I don’t smile as much anymore. I can’t drive. My work experience is that one job that I loved too much.

But I don’t know how I’d even start to get that little happiness back. I miss it. I have part time online college classes, but a good grade isn’t the same as a check, even a tiny one. I have a 4.0, and that doesn’t make me smile. But a check that was $84 had me smiling for days.