#(i'm fine i just have chronic migraines)

[hope-ur-ok]

I feel so fucking terrible it's not even funny

[seth-whumps]

I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks

welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course. follow @whumperless-whump-event for more information and details!

Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!

RULES

Any and all art types allowed (GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.)

No AI generated content allowed

OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)

Trigger and content tags required, even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting still needs the emetophobia tag)

NSFT and NSFW are allowed, if tagged appropriately. This blog will not reblog them, as minors do follow it. However, you're still free to write as you please :)

If enough interest is shown, I will make an Ao3 collection (edit: ao3 collection is made and can be found here)

Side note: please let me know if there's anything I can do to make this post or event more accessible. Should I put the image transcripts on the ID too? Is the formatting causing issues? What can I do?

This is not a contest, just an event. The only awards will be announcements for people who completed the whole darn thing. My entries will not receive any announcements or awards, because I'm hosting

TAGGING

Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1; #whumperless whump event; and (optional) #whumperless whump event day 1: alcohol as a sanitizer

Tag @whumperless-whump-event please! If not, I may not see it or be able to reblog it!

If desired, tag the medium you used

Trigger tag and content warn (including nsfw/nsft)

If posting early, tag with #wwe early entry. If posting late, tag with #wwe late entry. If posting just for fun, no need to tag these!

IMPORTANT:

There are NO OTHER RULES. Do one prompt! Do seven! Do 'em all! Repeat the same prompt six days in a row! Switch them around and do them all out of order! Post them eight months after the event is over! Finish the prompt list early! Write one long-ass story that deals with every prompt or do a one-sentence drabble for each one! Recommend your favorite scenes regarding the prompt! Write, draw, sing, play music, make playlists, do fic recs or show recs or episode recs or book recs, fucking crochet or something! FOLLOW THE VIBE. DO WHAT'S FUN.

Prompts (text):

Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”

It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”

Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”

Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”

Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”

White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”

Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”

A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”

It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”

It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”

Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”

I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”

In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”

I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”

The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”

It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”

Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”

Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”

Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”

Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”

We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”

That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”

What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”

Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”

Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”

Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”

ALTERNATES:

Seizure

Choking

Withdrawal

Mugged

Wild animal attack

Hangover

Strain/sprain

Broken bone

Bloody nose

Panic attack

[metalheadsforblacklivesmatter]

Heat Intolerance

This disability pride month I'd like to talk about heat intolerance. Because honestly although it's not the first health issue that presented symptoms in my life. It was the first time I was like "I don't think my body works right".

And honestly given disability pride month is during one of the hottest months in the year. It seems fitting. Especially because there's a lot of disabilities and medications that cause it.

What is heat intolerance?

Simply speaking it's the inability for the body to regulate it's temperatures especially in hot settings to cool itself down.

Why is awareness important?

Because gaslighting people or worse not providing them a place to cool down just because you "feel fine" is extremely fucking dangerous.

What are the medicines that can cause heat intolerance?

Antihistamines (Allergy medications) . Decongestants (Sudafed or any medication that has the D at the end of it). Stimulants (ADHD medications. Steroids. Caffeine.) Beta-blockers (blood pressure medications). Overactive bladder treatment. Psychiatric medications (including but not limited to medications for depression and anxiety). Pain relievers. Antibiotics.

What medical conditions can cause heat intolerance?

EDS (Elhers-Danlos syndrome). Autism. ADHD. Migraines. Brain/spinal-cord injury. Sensory processing disorder. Chronic fatigue syndrome. Endocrin problems. POTS. Menopause. Hypothyroidism. Diabetes. Heart Disease. Multiple sclerosis. Mental health disorders.

What should I do if I suspect I have heat intolerance?

Reduce time outside during hot months. Keep your electrolytes up. Drink plenty of water. Stay out of the sun whenever possible if outside. Be aware of the symptoms of heat exhaustion and heat stroke.

Clothes that are best worn for heat intolerance. Loose lightweight breathable fabrics. Natural fibers. Long sleeves that protect from sunburn as sunburns will increase your risk. Light clothes that reflect light. Wide brimmed hats that shade the face and neck.

Cool. So what are those symptoms I'm supposed you be looking for?

Headaches. Excessive fatigue. Mood changes. Muscle cramping or weakness. Nausea/ vomiting. Rapid heartbeat. Excessive sweating or not sweating at all.

When should I do to the doctor?

If you suspect you have heat intolerance you can go to your PCP to discuss what medications you may be on and what you can do about it. Otherwise, please go to the emergency room if you have symptoms of heat stroke.

This is good information and all but why are you making this post?

To raise awareness. Not just for the people that have it but weren't aware of what it was called. But for all of the idiots that tried to gaslight me when I was in school because I was like "I don't think this is normal. Every time we do our mile run outside I vomit all over the place but other kids aren't doing that."

Also because people always blame me for over heating if I wear long sleeves or pants. I always like to take notes from what people in the middle east wear because they literally live in the excessive heat and spend long hours in the excessive heat. Often in clothing that covers most of their body. They've gotta know what they're doing, right?

I have some type of xenophobic comment about why people from the middle east cover up

Shut the fuck up 😊

-fae

[hoothootmotherf-ckers]

the hardest thing about chronic pain to me is how it makes me doubt my own brain.

I have chronic pain. specifically chronic migraines. and the hard thing about that, or neurological pain in general, or really just so fucking many different chronic pain conditions, is there is no proof.

there's no scan a doctor can do to show my pain level or symptoms. you can't look at my head and go "huh, looks fucked up, probably a 8/10 pain." absolutely everything I experience, in order to be understood by a medical professional or even just anyone really, has to be self-recognized and self reported.

and that requires so many steps and levels of trust. like just to fucking start, I have to be aware that the invisible thing I am experiencing is not a thing everyone feels! which again, fucking invisible! Then I have to be aware it's happening at all, which sounds basic but with chronic shit is not. I had to explain to a doctor this week that I do not know if I ever experience "normal" or low-level headaches, because I'm so used to severe migraines that anything below that doesn't register. Sometimes it even takes hours for me to notice I'm having a migraine!

and then I have to be able to assess my own pain, judge how bad it really is, when after nine fucking years my scale is goddamn broken. and the longer I've had a migraine, the further out of whack it goes. I have to recognize and categorize my symptoms, one of which is fucking brain fog, and I have to communicate these very nebulous and abstract concepts to other people.

And then. And then they have to actually believe me. I have to convince them I'm not lying, I'm not looking for attention or drugs or pity or excuses. with zero hard proof, just my words. and then it cycles, because if people doubt my pain, I start to doubt my own experiences. I start to think I'm being a wimp, I'm faking it, I can try harder. so then I downplay it, so then I think it's fine, so I push through it, and this works great until I am fully fucking incapacitated.

and then people are shocked and surprised because I "look healthy."

it has taken fucking years for me to accept that what I am experiencing is real and people who doubt me can go fuck themselves. and it's still very much a work in progress. every single day.

but my pain is real. and so is yours. and people who doubt us can, to reiterate, go fuck themselves.

[spamton]

hiii so I'm in a bit of a pickle [aug 29th 2024]

I'm Kacper, an autistic polish trans man living in the UK. I work a part-time job which I adore, but the hours aren't the best. My paycheck was a little low this month, and while I managed to cover rent just fine, I'm short on bills and food. To add onto that, I desperately need to get new lenses for my glasses as I have chronic migraines and my out-of-date perscription only adds to it. The migraines have also caused me to miss a couple of shifts at my job.

I need roughly £300 as soon as possible to cover everything

my P-pal is here and I'd appreciate any help I can get!

[phoward89]

Based on this ask for my moot @swiftieblyth

“Darling, are you feeling unwell again?” Your husband, President Coriolanus Snow of Panem, asked you as he entered the residential wing of the Presidential Palace only to see you sprawled out on the sofa with a cold compress on your head in an attempt to ease your migraine. A migraine that's so bad that your body's shaking in pain and all of the drapes are drawn, leaving you in the dark to wallow in your misery.

“No.” You moan out in pain. “I’ve been suffering with a terrible migraine all day, Coryo.”

“My darling rose, perhaps we should call the doctor?” Coriolanus suggested while making his way over to your side.

“I don't need a doctor, Coryo. It's just a migraine.” You waved off your husband's concern as he kneels next to you. Truthfully, you hurt so bad that you just want to cry. But it's just a headache, all a doctor's going to do is prescribe headache and migraine medications and you've already got those in the medicine cabinet. Too bad you're too nauseous to take them tho.

“This isn't just a migraine. You've been getting frequent headaches too often lately. Not to mention your lack of appetite and nausea.”

“I'm fine, Coryo.” You stubbornly told your husband.

“You're not fine, my love. Don't even lie to me and say you are.”

“I know, Coryo.” You sigh defeatedly. Your husband always knows when you're lying. What is he, a human lie detector?

“This is concerning me. Really it is and you know I don't frighten that easily.” The President told you, gently stroking your arm up and down in a soothing manner.

“I know, it concerns me too," You honestly admit to the platinum blonde who's your other half in life. "but I already have migraine and headache medications; they don't work.”

“You have to take them for them to work, darling.” Scolded your husband.

“Okay, when I'm not too nauseous from the headaches and take them they don't really help.”

“That's why we need to get you to a doctor.”

“I know, but I don't want to see the doctor only for him to tell me what I already know- that I have migraines.”

Coriolanus loves you, he truly does, but sometimes you can be so stubborn. He'd feel better if you'd just agree to see the doctor, but you won't.

Your claim that it's just migraines is bullshit; both you and your husband know it too. You're been experiencing chronic fatigue, a tiny bit of brain fog, and tingling in your hands that makes you shake them out to get feeling back sometimes.

Those symptoms on top of the frequent headaches, nausea, and loss of appetite has Coriolanus worried. Of course you're concerned too, but your husband's downright scared to death. But maybe that's because he's been looking up things and playing Dr. Panoogle when it comes to your symptoms.

But President Snow’s read so many scary things while playing Dr. Panoogle that he's desperate to get you to a doctor. He can't have you dying on him from some disease or illness.

Coriolanus let out an exasperated sigh. “If your symptoms consist or worsen, I'm taking you to the doctor. Understood?”

“Understood.” You reply, causing your husband to gently kiss your temple before scooping you up and bringing you to your large bedroom for some proper rest in your king sized bed.

A few days later your health took a turn for the worse. Your headache was gone, but you were feeling fatigued. More than usual. Also you were having some problems with your motor skills. You're, for a lack of a better word, clumsy and stumbling over your own feet.

You're scared, but you don't want to bother your husband. Coryo's the President and he's been busier than usual lately since the games are a month and a half away. You know if you call him or send a maid to get him then he'll scrap all of his duties to tend to you. As much as you want your doting husband by your side, he's the President of Panem and has a duty to the country. Plus, he's the youngest president that's ever been elected, so if he puts off his duties it'll make him look like a slacker and your husband's anything but that.

So, you decide to deal with feeling poorly yourself. But then you suddenly feel dizzy when you rise from the sofa in order to go to the bathroom. You feel as if the room's spinning, as if you can see the air dancing around the floor.

And suddenly you faint; hitting the floor with a loud thud. A loud thud that, unfortunately, none of the staff heard.

Coryo's exhausted when he makes his way down the hall, towards the residential wing of the Presidential Palace. He can't wait to get home to you, his darling wife. You've been by his side since college, always supporting his dreams and goals. You always manage to bring a smile to his face when he's had a bad day. You also calm the rage coursing through him whenever he's pissed off about something work related.

Just being around you's enough to calm him, bring fresh air to his dark soul. The nation of Panem should be glad that you're the First Lady. If Coriolanus was married to anyone else, well…there would be a ton more executions and poisonings then what have occured.

That's for sure.

Coriolanus can't wait to see you, to have you in his arms or to be held in yours (either works for him), but when he enters the living room of your living quarters his blood freezes in his veins.

The sight of you passed on the floor is like a vice around his heart. You're motionless and he's terrified that he's going to lose you. Quickly, he rushed over to you and pulled you into his arms. “Please, baby, wake up. Open your eyes for me, darling.” Coriolanus begs, gently patting your cheek in an attempt to rouse you, as his icy eyes shine with fear.

Your eyelashes flutter as you begin to weakly open your eyes. “Coryo?” You ask, trying to make the shape of your husband out since your vision’s a bit spotty.

“I'm here, darling.” Coryo assured you. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he tells you, “I'm taking you to the doctor, Y/N. You've been passed out for only gods know how long; you're getting checked out.’

“Okay.” You relent, knowing that you won't win against your husband on this. He told you before that if your health declines he's making you see the doctor.

The doctor examined you, listened to your list of symptoms, and ran some tests on you. Once the results were in, the doctor walked into your examination room with a few papers in hand.

Coming to a stop in front of the table you're sitting on, the doctor looks between you and President Snow before revealing, “First Lady Snow, I've come to the conclusion that you have both high cholesterol and an iron deficiency.”

“Isn't she a bit young for that?” Coriolanus asked in disbelief. How could you have those medical issues? Didn't people Grandma'am’s age have those kinds of issues?

“Yes, President Snow, the First Lady is young, but it seems that her medical issues with high cholesterol and iron deficiency is a genetic one.” The doctor told your husband before looking over at you. “Do your parents or siblings have any of these issues?”

“No.” You shake your head. “My mother and older brother don't have any problems.”

“Her father died in the war, during the Dark Days alongside mine.” Your husband told the doctor before the middle-aged man could even ask about your dad.

The doctor nodded, only to hand you a script and say, “That's a prescription for a statin. It's a medication to control your cholesterol.” He gave you another piece of paper that had some supplements written on it. “Those are over the counters you can buy for your iron deficiency. They're easily found in the vitamin aisle of the pharmacy.”

Looking between you and your husband, the doctor sighed. “Now, this next part might be a bit difficult since it concerns diet. I understand that you're the First Family of Panem, the equivalent of royalty in the eyes of the old world, but there's quite a few diet restrictions the First Lady has now because of her condition.” Handing some papers about foods you could eat, couldn't eat, and diet plans to your husband l, the doctor concluded his thoughts on the matter with, “I understand that you hold a lot of galas and dinner parties and I won't tell you what to serve, just that the First Lady doesn't eat anything she's not supposed to unless you want her having another episode due to out of order levels of cholesterol.”

“Don't worry, Dr. Murphy, she'll strictly adhere to whatever's in this diet plan.” Coriolanus assured your doctor, holding the papers in his hand up slightly. “Nothing she's not allowed to have will enter the Presidential Palace.”

Well, it's rare, but your medication gave you an allergic reaction. Yea…it gave you a bad cause of hives, which you had to get some antihistamines for. So, you couldn't take the cholesterol medication.

Your husband was livid that the statin gave you hives. He even threatened to have the doctor's head on a silver platter for malpractice, but you managed to calm him down enough not to kill poor Dr. Murphy. That doctor should be thanking his lucky stars that you have such a strong hold on your deranged husband, President Coriolanus Snow, otherwise he'd be pushing up daisies right now.

Since the cholesterol medication is off the table, you have to manage it all on your own with a strict diet. A diet that Coryo's also eating, despite the fact that he's as healthy as a horse.

It means a lot to you that your husband's supporting your journey to get healthier. That he eats the same foods as you and won't let anything you can't have come into your home. Not many husbands are so devoted, but yours is.

But, that also means that dinner parties have a strict menu now to. Because President Snow's making everyone-

EVERY-FUCKING-ONE

that enters the Presidential Palace for a gala or dinner party eat your family's special diet.

Mhm…

He's not having you get sick on his watch by accidentally eating one of your ‘bad’ foods that can make your cholesterol skyrocket.

Coriolanus needs you to get healthy so that you can start thinking about having a baby. Well, you've been together for so many years now, it's the only logical step. But before that can happen he wants to make sure that your cholesterol and iron levels are at a good reading.

He's so supportive and you're so grateful for him.

“Thank you, Coryo, for doing this diet with me and for just being such a good husband while I've been dealing with my health issues.” You tell your husband one night during dinner.

Your husband always returns to the residential wing of the Presidential Palace for mealtimes now. He feels it's his duty to make sure you're eating healthy and the only way to do that is to share meals with you all the time.

Coryo pauses in stabbing his vegetables with a fork, only to tell you, “My darling rose, you don't have to thank me for wanting you well. For wanting nothing but the best for my love.”

“I know, but not all husbands are like you and I just wanted you to know that I'm grateful for everything.”

Reaching across the table to grab your hand, the president smiles that special smile he only reserves for you. “You're everything to me. Made me love again when I never thought I'd be able to.” Coryo's icy blue eyes were twinkling as he admitted, “I'm completely lost without you, my love. I'll always be by your side to support you because I need you to be healthy and at your best.”

Your husband's words really touched your heart. To the public your husband's a cold, stoic, firm leader. But to you he lets down his guard, shows you a tender side. He's also a very devoted man to have as a life partner.

Coryo's been by your side during all of your hard times. Like during the times I'm University that you had some very bad spats and falling outs with some of your friends via social media. He's your biggest supporter, but hearing that he needs you by his side because you make him a better man just makes you swoon.

So, it seems that you both need each other. Perhaps that's why your love works so well. You make his heart beat and prevent it from rotting while he makes sure that you're healthy, both mentally and physically.

And right now you might be a little unwell, but you'll get better. With Coryo's love and support you'll be better in no time.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[scientia-rex]

Hi Dr. Kristophine, do you have any advice on what kind of information doctors need for medical issues that are more nebulous than "my knees hurt"? I've been feeling Weird and Bad in a way that has me concerned, but I'm afraid to make an appointment because I don't know what to say that will get the Weird and Bad feeling across in an actionable way. Going to the doctor takes SO much energy that I don't have to waste and I don't want them to just take a blood test and say everything's fine go home (again).

The best thing you can do with medical information you're trying to prepare for your medical provider, as a lay person, is be as specific as possible.

-Location: Is it one place in particular, or everywhere? Does it stay in one place, or move around?

-Timing: When did it start? Did it come on suddenly or slowly? Does it happen continuously? Does it come and go? Is it always there to some extent, but it gets better and worse? On a scale of 1-10, with 1 being fine and 10 being the worst you can imagine, how bad is it at its best, and how bad is it at its worst? How much time does it spend really bad vs only kind of bad?

-Quality: If it's pain, is it aching, burning, stabbing, dull, electrical zap, etc.? If it's not pain, what is it? Is it discomfort? Is it weakness--i.e., you can't do that thing? Is it fatigue--like maybe you can still push through doing the thing but it feels like you're trying to wade through mud to do it? Is it a racing heart, sweating, pressure?

-Triggers: Does something in particular set it off? A time of day, a food, an action, a medication, a thought? A surprisingly common trigger for migraines is sitting still with your neck in one position. (New research suggests that necks are critical to migraine formation, to which I yelled out loud at the paper, no duh!) There may be triggers you haven't noticed; try keeping a symptom diary, where you note down when you have episodes and what you were doing beforehand, what you ate that day, menstrual phase, etc. Any detail that you can remember, whether or not it seems relevant at the time.

I cannot tell you how many times I've dug deeper into a chronic issue only to discover that the patient can, in fact, tell me what the trigger is, but because it's something important to them, they simply haven't noticed. May subconsciously even avoided noticing. Do you get migraines every time you DM? Do you need to work a stretch break into your D&D session?

There can also absolutely be multiple triggers--I know I'll get migraines if I don't sleep, if I'm sick, if I sit still for too long, if I have dental work, etc.

So bring in all the info you can. Write it down if you're afraid you'll forget. Don't hand it to the MA, too many doctors will go "oh my GOD they brought a LIST how high-maintenance" and tune out. Hang on to it but tell them about everything.

I don't expect patients to be able to tell me "I believe I've had a left radial styloid fracture" but I do expect them to tell me "I fell and tried to catch myself with my left hand and now my wrist hurts," and that's good enough. The rest of it is my job. When it's something more vague, like "I started feeling different and bad about six months ago," any other information helps. Did you start a new med around then? Are you going through menopause? Do you struggle with anxiety? Do you have first-degree relatives (parent, sibling, or child) with genetic disorders, autoimmune disorders, etc.? Do you have a history of anemia? Are you vegan? Have you started having night sweats and unexplained weight loss? Did you recently travel internationally? This can go a lot more different directions than a hurty wrist, so bring in all the info you can.

And keep in mind that modern medicine is very limited--much more so than most people think. There is an excellent chance that medicine will not be able to diagnose your condition. It may still be able to offer treatment. It may fall on your shoulders to manage it as best you can, knowing that doctors don't have answers. Nobody can tell me why I have chronic pain, and I don't mean as in "I've asked doctors and they don't know," I mean "I've personally scoured the literature and had the relevant and appropriate tests and no one can know at this phase of medical knowledge." So I deal with it, I've stopped trying to push myself past my reserves because people who can't admit to ignorance tell me to, I keep my painful body moving because that helps, I do PT, I take a multivitamin occasionally because I know my diet sucks. I manage.

There are not always right or wrong answers--I don't take gabapentin, because I don't want the sedation and kidney exposure, but patients with my exact symptoms might find it helpful and may find the risks and costs worth the benefits. My mother, who has whatever it is that I have, right down to the tricky stomach, from whom I presumably inherited it, has taken medication at different points in her life, depending on how much pain she was in and what other responsibilities she has, and that is perfectly reasonable. Autonomy matters. People have to be able to make these choices for themselves, with assistance but not paternalism from their medical professionals, because the math is different for everyone.

[charlotteking23]

Would you be able/willing to write an Eric Coulter x reader soulmate au where you feel a dulled version of your soulmate’s pain (more of an awareness of there being pain, and knowing where that pain is then actual pain) after you meet them for the first time, and the way that Eric figures out that the reader is his soulmate is because she suffers from chronic migraines and one day she’s missing from training and he finds her curled into the foetal position on the bathroom floor trying to keep still so the room stops spinning long enough for her to stand up? Maybe he takes her to the infirmary or maybe he doesn’t, but the entire time she’s like that he has maybe the worst headache he’s had in his entire life and he knows it’s nothing compared to what she deals with almost everyday.

My Pain

Eric Coulter x Reader soulmate au

I lay curled up in bed hearing the snores and the eerie quietness of the dauntless dorm. I looked around to see everyone asleep but me. This damn headache kept me awake the whole night.

I try to fall asleep squeezing my eyes shut as hard as possible but to no avail. I hear loud footsteps approaching the dorm, knowing it's Four here to wake us up. I silently got out of bed, quickly changing my shirt and putting on my shoes since I decided to sleep in my sweats.

The migraine was still killing me, I wondered if my soulmate could feel the amount of pain I was feeling, or if he was able to get any sleep?

I walked down towards the dauntless cafeteria, hoping I still had an appetite. As I approached, I saw Uriah already awake eating cake. I sat on the bench across from Uriah taking a piece of bread.

"Why are you eating cake at 7 in the morning?" I said with a teasing smile. "Why not? It's delicious" Uriah replied stuffing the rest of the cake in his mouth.

I quietly giggle under my breath. "Are you not hungry, You Usually finish like 5 pieces of bread", Uriah said with a concerned look. "Yeah I'm fine, just a migraine," I said with a fake smile but Uriah saw right through that.

A booming voice interrupted me and Uriah's conversation, "Initiates hurry up, you have two minutes to get to the gym". I look to find Eric standing there with all his glory. He looked out of place among the dauntless maybe it was his emotionless face or his bright blue eyes. But that didn't matter, all I felt was this throbbing migraine, How does one even get a migraine.

I quickly got up rushing towards the gym.

Four told us to run 10 laps, I started running but it kept feeling worse and worse. My head was pounding because of the immense pain, and I felt as if I wanted to puke. We finally finished and by that I mean I was the last one done. Immediately I fell on the floor, trying to regain my breath from the run.

Hearing footsteps, I look up to meet those blue eyes that haunt me. "That was pathetic", Eric said glaring at me as if I was dirt on his shoe. "What," I said getting up from the floor and glaring back at him ignoring the pain I was feeling. " what makes you think you can get into Dauntless if you can barely run 10 laps, He said as if running 10 laps around the compound was the easiest thing to do. Thankfully before I could reply, Four told us to partner up and fake fight. I left feeling Eric's eyes gapping through my head.

I was partnered with Tris, she was decent. I felt so dizzy feeling like I could pass out any minute. I left Tris telling four I had to use the restrooms. I made it in the restrooms splashing some water on my face to wake me up. I sat on the bathroom floor in the foetal position trying to keep still so the room stopped spinning long enough for me to stand up. I sat there for what felt like forever not having the strength to return to training.

Eric P.O.V

Where is she? it's already been half an hour, I said rubbing my hand over my chin and looking for Y/N. I don't know, she said she needed to use the restroom, Four said not even glancing at me but only focusing on that stiff. I huff walking out of the gym to the restrooms, Ever since last night I have been feeling some headache pain but it's been feeling worse recently. I hope she didn't skip if she knows what is best for her.

I expected to see an empty restroom but saw Y/N curled on the floor, crying. Hey, are you okay? I was trying to approach her but didn't know what to say. I am not good at comforting people at all. I gently pick her up bridal style, carrying her to my apartment. I approach my apartment opening the door with my keys.

It was bigger than most apartments because I was a leader. it was spacious with a living room and a bookshelf near my desk. I walked towards my bedroom gently laying her on my bed since she was asleep.

I could she didn't get any sleep because her eye bags and her nose looked so red because of the crying. She looked so peaceful but I know in reality she was hurting. I waited for a couple of hours until she woke up, Training for today was already over.

Y/n P.O.V

I woke feeling well rested, the covers were so soft it felt like silk, It was so warm and I didn't want to ever leave. If I didn't realize this was not the dorm but someone's apartment.

I carefully slid off the bed checking if my clothes were still on. I tiptoed towards what seemed to be the living room but who was there surprised me. "Eric", I whispered his head immediately looking toward me. "how are you feeling? I made some tea if you wanted some, He said but all I could was nod yes. He pats the seat next to him on the couch, and I quickly sat next to him. I waited for him to speak but he just kept looking at me with these different emotions, it felt overwhelming to look in his eyes.

" what happened and why am I in your apartment?", I said trying to recall what had happened. Eric's voice interrupted my thought, "I found you laying on the bathroom floor asleep so I carried you here because they were full in the infirmary." "Thank you, Eric". I felt grateful he had helped me and that my migraine felt less intense than before.

"What happened, why were you on the floor?" Eric began to stay seeing how curious to know what made me pass out. "I had a migraine since last night and It got worse throughout the day". I replied, expecting Eric to kick me out but instead, I heard him whisper last night over and over as if trying to solve a mystery.

"Y/N, I think I am your soulmate", He said putting his hand through his hair. Okay, that wasn't what I was expecting him to say. "what, are you sure?" I said not believing him. You said you got your migraine last night well so did I and it felt worse today, especially when you passed out. And I know it sounds cliche but when I held you I felt sparks.

"Here I will prove it." This man decided to punch himself in the face to prove he was my soulmate. That's kinda sweet but stupid but still sweet. "Owe, Okay I believe you but please don't punch yourself on purpose again", I said as I rubbed my cheek angrily with a pout on my lips.

"I'm happy I found my soulmate, even if it is the scary leader", I said with a teasing grin I probably look stupid right now but I didn't care I was just happy I found my soulmate and didn't have to die lonely. "I am happy my soulmate is someone I tolerate", Eric said smiling. It was my first time seeing him smile knowing it wouldn't be the last.

[atimesfeeler]

I loved @twilightkitkat 's post SO MUCH I just had to add to it. It reminded me of a fic I'm working on rn.

I especially liked the part with Vanessa because I don’t think she just left him because of the reason Wade thinks. She didn’t just want him to be a superhero or whatever- in the flash back, she’s begging him to open up to her, to be present, to let her help him and I don’t thinks Wade could do it.

He felt like, incorrectly, that he couldn’t burden her with it. He has so much baggage and pain and issues, and he can’t corrupt her with that. He had cancer and instead of spending his last days with her, he left her. And when he survived he avoided her until she was literally kidnapped.

Everyone thinks Logan runs but really Wade does. He doesn’t want the people he loves to know he’s in pain. At his birthday party, he’s obviously miserable but everybody’s together! And smiling! So he’s going to be happy and pretend he’s just fine. But he’s not even very good at hiding it bc, like mentioned before, it’s a little bitter. His jokes don’t land or they come out passive aggressive and tense. But nobody calls him out for it except Logan. Logan who tells him in the meanest way that he’s a clown but that he’s sad, pathetic, and attention starved. He’s not buying the clown act.

And when Logan moves in, I love the idea that he starts noticing Wade when his mask falls or he gets too tired to pretend.

I’m writing a fic where Wade deals with chronic pain in less healthy ways and, of course, he tries to hide it. It's more brief and censored on tumblr bc I don't want to get my account terminated again, but it will be more detailed on ao3.

…

He dealt with it in other ways. The pain.

After all, a little bit of death couldn’t hurt, right?

Treating himself gently only sometimes worked. If he did everything right, if he did all the steps then maybe, maybe it would ease up. Sleep well, wake up at the right time, eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, draw a scalding bath, and take some hard hitting drugs.

Most days, Wade was much more impatient. Most days, Wade failed. It was too hard to take care of himself when waking up felt like dragging himself up from glacier water and pounding on the underside of the ice. Cooking was a nightmare he didn’t even want to consider tackling, and he was rarely patient enough to wait for the bath to fill or for sleep to take him as his body wracked with pain.

There were faster, easier, more instant ways of relieving the pain.

Any pain that didn’t stem from his own body was good.

With Vanessa, Wade had tried the healthy way. The three meals, ten hours of sleep, and taking his vitamins. The whole mile. There was this urge he constantly resisted that told him it would release the tension in his skull if he carved under his eye into his cheek where the migraine pulsed, like he was some sort of fucked up carpenter with voices in his head.

Vanessa didn’t understand it. If he was in pain, why would he want to be in more? She understood his masochistic tendencies in bed where they mixed pain and pleasure, but just pain? Just harm for the sake of being harmed? They got into a lot of fights about it.

He resisted the attempts. Hid them from her where he could. Sometimes he’d miscalculate, and she’d walk into the bathroom before he could heal and clean up his brain splattered on the bathroom tile. She hated it, and Wade hated that he was hurting her.

He reeled back any anger or snippy comments that stemmed from the sheer newness of having his body feel like it was dying all the time. It was so hard to interact when pain rippled through him like a feedback chamber. It made his fuse short and curt. His witty remarks turned snappish and bitchy. People asked stupid questions and made even stupider comments when he was having a Bad Pain Day, and everything felt a bit more raw and oozing. Wade didn’t have the energy to keep up the act and while his mind rarely stopped running, it shifted into something darker when pain was on his mind. His jokes fell flat, laced with a bitter ending. Sometimes, Wade didn’t even want to talk. He wanted to punch someone. Maybe even himself. And every time he snapped or said something he didn’t mean, he wanted to hurt himself even more.

Quickly, he grew exhausted putting on a brave face, and he had never been good at letting people help him. There was this awful clash of wanting to be comforted by the people he loved and hating that he needed comfort. It made him feel weak and pathetic, and Wade already hated so much about himself that he didn’t want anyone to see the twisted, fucked up parts of him. How ironic that he always had an audience anyway. He couldn’t hide it from you or whoever was watching him those days, but he could hide it from the people he loved. Shield them from it, almost.

On Bad Pain Days, Wade didn’t want anything to be different. He didn’t want to acknowledge the pain he dealt with, and seeing that pity on her face set his teeth on edge. It both hurt to be babied and, later, it hurt to be ignored when he stubbornly insisted he was fine.

Obviously, it didn’t work out.

It was better with Al.

Al tried to help. Once or twice. Her motherly instincts kicked in, maybe, Wade didn’t know. He shot himself once in front of her while they were watching the Bachelorette together, and she cursed him out and told him to stop and never do it again. Wade took his little attempts to the bathroom after that. He cleaned up after himself. He went out. Wade tended not to do the more dramatic methods that draw attention.

Wade had it down to a science. A decent chunk out of his frontal lobe sent Wade into a pleasant, almost subspace-like place. He would just… float and forget that his body hurt all that bad. It was good for Bad Brain DaysTM too when Wade’s thoughts were louder, faster than normal, and the voices stopped sounding like himself. When the fourth wall was a little too easy to see, and it got to him, being the doomed comic relief, when his head was trying to split his consciousness in two.

If his temporal lobe was nicked, then Wade would start hallucinating and hear a banger of a song while time, space, and movement sort of fucked up for a second. It felt like getting high, but he didn’t need an entire bag of cocaine and to hot box weed to get there.

If something happened to his parietal lobe, the pain wouldn’t know where to go. A bear could literally be eating his insides, but the pain signals couldn’t register if they had nowhere to go.

He did most of his questionable coping methods in the stereotypical bathroom spot. It was private, and Al got onto him for getting blood and bits all over the apartment. He once left his liver or his kidney in the kitchen sink, and Althea threatened to call the cops on him - her coke stash be damned. Now he’d drape himself in the empty tub, play music loudly, and expertly deal with the pain.

The system he had was fine. Regulated. It was working. It was fine. It wasn’t going to get any better.

Until Logan.

...

I haven't posted it on ao3 yet, but it will be apart of the series for my fic where Wade cries in the Honda instead of fighting.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting angry with my aunt for being uncomfortable with me doing things to show affection to my girlfriend in front of my family at the dinner table?

Could this post be tagged 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ anon so I can find it more easily? Thank you!

(Possible homophobia and transphobia trigger warning)

I (transmasc enby) and my mom went over to my aunt's house for dinner, because family from far away was in town at her place and I wanted to see them. My girlfriend (who lives with me because she moved from far away and we're also very serious about our relationship) came along despite dealing with a headache and neck pain at the time because she wanted to meet the family from out of town (she'd already met my mom and the aunt hosting the dinner before).

At some point after dinner my girlfriend's head and neck pain were really starting to bother her, so she asked for some migraine meds and for me to massage her neck and head to try and ease the discomfort. We didn't leave the dinner table because we were still trying to be part of the conversation, although ultimately she did go lay down on the couch for a bit because it was getting to be too much. Girlfriend and I were kinda stuck because we rode over with my mom.

The next day, aunt bothered my mom a lot and insisted that she let us know how "uncomfortable" we made "everyone". No elaboration whatsoever but she really pushed about it to the point that my mom felt forced to convey the message. Essentially aunt wanted her to tell us that anything besides hand holding was not okay and we made everyone upset, but did not elaborate on what we did wrong. This made my girlfriend cry, and it made me furious (for the record, the next time I spent time with this side of the family all we did was hold hands and aunt still looked at the two of us with disgust so 🤷).

I reached out to her to 1) let her know she was either going to have to tolerate our relationship or cut us off; and 2) try to confirm exactly what it was we did wrong that night so we don't do it again. She told me my girlfriend and I were being inappropriate at her kitchen table because I was rubbing her head and neck, and that we should have either dealt with it where nobody else had to see or gone home (once again, we rode over with my mom so going home wasn't really an option). She insisted it wasn't about us being a queer couple but given that she believes gay people go to hell and has said transphobic things in the past I'm doubtful she's being truthful.

I told her that was such a stupid thing to be weird about, that maybe she should ask questions instead of being immediately judgemental, that it's unfair to ask someone to leave when they're dealing with chronic pain, and that it was hypocritical of her to be weirded out by that when the family was making inappropriate jokes at the table earlier and that was apparently just fine. I admit I also used the opportunity to air out a couple other grievances I had such as: the time she yelled at me for something I didn't do and said very mean things to me because of it at a time where I was not in a good place mentally (she refuses to apologize for this), and her deliberately deadnaming me and using the wrong pronouns to refer to me. I told her if she can't respect me and my girlfriend then I would like if she didn't talk to me anymore. Thankfully she's at least been respecting my wishes in this regard.

Evidently she got very upset about it because she said something to another aunt, who then got angry with me and refused to listen to me, telling me I should just apologize if I made someone uncomfortable (but that's a story for another AITA).

Am I the asshole?

[divineerdrick]

Homestuck: Beyond Canon Upd8 for November 11, 2024

*flops*

Don't mind me.

Just gonna lie here while I do the Homestuck liveblog thing.

I am going to give a heads up. If my next migraine treatment brings me a bit more back in line, I'll be doing VLogs again. I have a bigger video project planned, but it's not Homestuck related. I'll be posting the updates here though, so you'll still know when I blog an upd8. Then you'll all get to see my haggard and aged face.

We begin with the monthly news upd8 from James. Except no! It is in fact an upd8 from Miles! James fades into the background, and apparently Miles will be our flattering correspondent from now on.

It looks like Miles is putting potential spoilers in the news post, so I might have to be careful in the future. Of course these might be jokes. We'll have to see.

Work continues on the planned [S] page and more Beyond Canon merch. We won't be getting an upd8 for December, but they will be running the Patreon. The next upd8 looks like it might be as late as February.

That's all unfortunate. But I fully support if the team wants to take a well earned holiday.

Upd8

Tavvy has decided to join Yiffy on an adventure. This can't possibly end well. His attempts at being her lackey have so far landed him mostly in trouble. And there's a heap of trouble brewing on the soon to be battlefield.

Yeah that's not happening.

Heh! Harry brought the trail mix.

Oh wow. And oh no!

OH NO!!!

That can't possibly count as Heroic though. Getting sniped while performing a purely tactical role is not a hero's end. Still, Rose is probably glad the kids aren't seeing that.

And button.

Interesting view to cut to.

Again, I don't think this will count as Heroic for anyone. But a lot of people are about to die. And let's not forget, none of the trolls currently outside for the Plot Point are God Tiers. This is bad. This is really bad. This is the kind of moment that calls for an extreme, deus ex machina, like the Plot Point has the potential for.

But we're not getting to see it yet.

Edit: @vriedi reminded me that Meenah is a God Tier. Though this does make me wonder, what happens when a dead God Tier dies?

Orange curtains.

Okay! Legitimately fantastic Psyche Out. They actually got me pretty good there.

Okay, we have a new troll it I think.

gavageCunctation is messaging Vrissy. Though that doesn't necessarily tell us much, except that a new player may have entered the drama.

And they're "negging" Vrissy. So this troll clearly sees themselves as a "player" too.

We've got a "game" that's about to be played. A game being run by a TC. Now Gamzee is dead, but that doesn't mean he didn't setup something before Vriska killed him. Still, it's likely these are two completely new troll kids.

We've got a new AA too. So we might be seeing more troll descendants. After all, they used cloning to kick things off. This troll is typing in purple, but blood typing may not be universal anymore. I do find it interesting that we're continuing the nucleotide pairs though. They could have gone for a different motif. Maybe they're trying to symbolize that these are potential paradox clones for a new session?

AA is apparently our chronic auspistice for this group. And potentially our Seer, though we've had fake-outs on that before.

And our actual cliffhanger ending is this new GC's computer exploding.

So yeah. Something has to happen for a lot of our beloved characters to not bite it. I'm also curious how Rose's vision of future events can come true if Jane has unleashed her weapon. But I mentioned last time that Rose is playing a dangerous game here. I don't think any of our God Tiers are in trouble, and I'm pretty sure the Plot Point is fine.

I'm wondering if this is how Calliope ends up sacrificing themself, if Rose was even correct there. Either way, this a dark ending for the year on a community that's already seen some dark endings.

*Returns to flop*

[jellyclogs]

hi, brooke here! <3

could i request ace helping the reader, who is having a migraine? I'm currently struggling with one myself and that would be much comfort!

feel free to be as creative as you'd like 🐝✨

not gonna lie I didn't see this ask till yesterday sorry about not replying sooner. and as some one who deals with chronic migraines, I'm sorry you've been going through it. I hope they have been getting better and I hope you enjoy the story.

Word count 1.3k

trigger warnings: Migraine, cussing, mentions of panic attacks

A Migraine

I could feel it since this morning. Just a dull ache in the back of my head. I knew it was only a matter of time before a migraine decided to strike me. I managed to get through my normal daily chores before my vision began to blur. The only reason id been able to complete my chores was because it was all muscle memory. If id had to put any real thought into it I'd be more than a little lost. I couldn't focus on anything and my thoughts were flowing like syrup through frozen pipes.

I stepped away from the laundry and closed my eyes. Yeah even with the excessive amounts of ibuprofen and acetaminophen I had taken I needed to go lay down. I turned to Banshee, she had been the only other female on the spades with me. After Pops just kinda claimed Ace as one of his we followed Ace to the whitebeard pirates. “I'm sorry to leave you when we still have work to do but if I don't go lay down I think my brain might selfdistrict.”

Banshee turned to me, “Sweetheart it's not a problem. You've looked like shit all morning I was wondering when you'd tap out.” she smiled at me. “But didn't think asking why you look like a walking corpse would help nun.” we’d been crew members for years, she knew my struggles with migraines. “Plus it's not like this is a hangover and you did it to yourself,” she added.

“Yeah nope, definitely not a hangover, and by god I feel like one.” I gave her a pathetic smile, “But still, I owe you one.” I turned to walk to the door my hand on the wall as I walked. My head was spinning. Though I knew could handle a little tumble I didn't see the need to worry the crew.

“Don't worry about it. And do you want me to walk you back to your dorm? How steady are you on your feet?” she asked in a motherly tone.

“I'll be fine But thanks Banshee.” I waved her by as I left the room. I didn't need to take her away from the work that was left.

I picked my way threw the ship trying to avoid the louder parts. Sadly my room was right next to the mess hall, no matter what time it was the mess hall was always packed full and loud enough to make the floor boards of the ship shake. I winced knowing I'd have to walk past the mess hall's doors to get to my room. The noise would be loud enough to take my balance completely away and my vision would be fucked. I braced myself for a moment, checking one last time if the way was clear before, closing my eyes, and rushing to pass the doors.

I slammed straight into someone. Someone who was much steadier on their feet. Before I was sent to the floor a set of hands grabbed my shoulders and stopped me from falling. “You ok?” Ace called over the noise of the mess hall. His grip on my shoulders was firm but not harsh.

My hands came to cling onto his arms. The noise was overwhelming, like I'd thought My balance was gone and my vision went with it. I couldn't quite manage to speak so I just shook my head no. I wasn't hurt but I definitely wasn't ok.

Ace pulled me over to my room’s door.  Helping me inside, “Is this a panic attack or a migraine?” he asked in a soft calming voice barely above a whisper. I couldn't help but smile at the question. Seeing as my head was a box of fucked up, and either were possible (plus both could take my speech away)  it was a reasonable question.

I took a moment to take a deep breath and take in the quiet of my room, “Migraine.” I croaked out. With the blare of the mess hall gone some of my brain power was coming back.

“Have you taken anything for it?” he asked sounding slightly relieved. I don't blame him. Migraines were easier to deal with than panic attacks. He helped me over to my bed helping me sit down.

“More than Marco would be happy with,” I joked, giving him a smile hoping it would calm him down slightly. I could feel the way his heart was racing well he was holding me. Ace was good at keeping a calm face when he was panicked, but his heart always gave him away. With his tough exterior, it might surprise people how much of a softy he is when it comes to his crew.  He feels helpless and panicky when the people he cares about are hurt.

“Ok since I'm not a doctor I won't scold you for that,” he sighed but I could hear the smile in his voice. He was calming down now that he knew what was wrong and how to help, “how about water?” he asked walking over to my curtains and drawing them close.

“I could use a glass.” I shifted from sitting on my bed to lying down. If it were anyone else I might have just said I was fine, but with Ace I couldn't.  With ace, I knew he’d feel better if he was helping.

“Well then ill be back.” he paused at the doorway looking over his shoulder, “Have you eaten?” he asked.

“Yes I have,” I answered my voice muffled, I had a pillow over my face to block out more light. Not that I was looking but I could feel the questioning look he was giving me, “I had breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and orange juice… not lying, promises.” I grumbled.

“Just checking.” he chuckled, and then I heard the door open and close. A few moments later I heard the door open again. Then there were footsteps crossing my room and someone sitting down on the edge of my bed. “You gonna sit up or just spill water all over yourself?” Ace asked in a slightly teasing tone.

“Sit up,” I mumbled sitting up and leaning my head against one of his shoulders.

“Good.” he brought a cup of water to my lips. He let me grab hold of the water cup before letting go. If I was feeling less shitty I might have enjoyed how close he was to me. He waited for me to finish drinking the water before asking, “You want heat or ice on the back of your neck?”

“Heat.” some heat on the back of my neck would definitely help. It would soothe my shoulders and hopefully convince my brain to calm down some. I wondered if he'd grabbed both an ice pack and a hot water bottle.

“You got it sunshine,” I could hear mischief in his voice but I wasn't sure why. Ace wasn't the type to mess with someone if they weren’t in good shape. Before I could ask what he had up his sleeve he was lying down in my bed with me, his arm my new pillow.

For a moment I just froze then I decided, fuck it. I shifted slightly to get comfortable. I was about to bitch that his arm wasn't going to be hot enough when I realized it was. “Guess this is one way to use your devil fruit.” I hummed.

“You want me to get you something else?” he asked in a soft hum. I could feel the hum reverberate in his chest, it was a pleasant sensation.

“Think you can stay here for a while?” I asked almost meekly. If I was being honest with myself it felt really nice to be cuddled up to Ace.

“Yeah I can stay here as long as you need me to,” he replied snuggling into me a little bit.

“Then no I don't want something else,” I closed my eyes, ready for a nap.

“You got it,” Ace answered letting me fall asleep on his arm.

[gingerjolover]

Sweet Angel - Lucy Dacus x Reader

Sypnosis: Lucy's gf has chronic pain, so she wears many different hats - nurse, dog mom, and sweet angel from heaven above

G's notes: surprise shawtayyy (also I love my tens machine lol)

WC: somewhere around 2k (woweeee)

Warnings: RPF, tooth-rotting fluff, chronic pain, physical therapy marks, no fundamental physical descriptors?

The house is dark, way darker than it should be for the afternoon, automatically sending Lucy on high alert. She sighs softly, putting to the universe that you’re just napping and not having a flare-up. Trying to be quiet as she walks into your shared home, she sees your dog Murphy’s head rising from the couch, immediately knowing that you’re indeed having a flare-up and you've unknowingly shut the door on your poor Murphy in your pain-induced haze. Recognizing one of his humans, he stands up, stretching before wobbly walking over to Lucy, his tail wagging. ”Is mama sleeping, Murph? Hm?” Lucy asks, leaning down and scratching his chin. Lucy treads quietly, placing her keys down on the thrifted hall table. Toeing her shoes off, she puts a Trader Joe’s and her studio bag on the dining room table. 

She quietly pads up the stairs, her heart cracking when she sees you laying face down on your shared head, a heating pad on your back, an ice pack on your neck. 

“Hi, love,” Lucy says softly. 

You groan in response painfully; Lucy notices. 

"Hey," you exhale through clenched teeth. Your voice is raspy, and it takes a few tries just to say that one word. You slowly roll over on your side, keeping close to your heating pad and ice pack.

"Rough day, huh?" Lucy whispers, her heart aching as she sees the state you're in. The pain in your voice is evident, even when you say very little. Lucy’s hand lifts your shirt, checking on your skin, constantly wary that you’ll burn your skin in desperation for some relief. She immediately notices the deep bruised circles on your back, wincing when she realizes you went to physical therapy this morning. 

“Sarah did some cupping, I see… how was therapy?” she asks softly, trailing her fingers over the marks.

“F-Fine,” you slur, teeth chattering from the sheer uncomfortableness. “I was fine all day… had lunch and then I walked Murphy and got home and… it hurts Luce,” voice trembling, tears leaking onto the pillow. 

"I know, I know," Lucy whispers soothingly, reaching out her hand to gently rub your back as she speaks. "I'm so sorry, baby. Do you want me to bring you some ibuprofen or your tens machine? What do you need?" Lucy does her best to keep her voice and tone gentle to avoid triggering an even more intense flare-up. She doesn't want you to feel more pain than you already are and wants to take care of you.

“I don’t know,” you sob softly, rubbing your eyes furiously. 

"Okay, hang on, sweet girl," Lucy says, her voice still gentle and soothing. She leaves the room momentarily and returns with ibuprofen and your tens machine. She helps you sit up more and then puts the tens machine around your back, emitting a subtle buzzing sound. She gently squeezes your hand with her own, offering some support and reassurance. "Would it help you if I made dinner and did the dishes tonight?" she asks.

“I’m not hungry,” you sniffle softly, the pain radiating up your back, throbbing deep into your skull. 

"I know," Lucy sighs quietly. "But you have to eat, love. Let me make you something light, just a little bit of something, okay?" Lucy gently strokes your hair back with her fingers, her tone still soft and caring. "You want some sourdough toast? An apple with peanut butter? I bought those crunchy things from Trader Joe’s that you like…" she offers. 

Your whimpers are response enough, her hand rubbing the back of your neck, knowing food is the last thing you want right now. “Do you want your migraine cap?” Lucy asks gently. 

“No, not now,” you respond, slurring softly. 

“When are you due for another injection, my love?” Lucy asks, rubbing your scalp. 

“Uhhhh….” it hurts to think, your eyes squeezing shut. 

“Okay, okay… I’ll just look at the Google calendar; just relax,” Lucy says, cringing, reprimanding herself for asking so many questions.

Lucy gently pulls you to her chest, your face resting against her chest, cheeks smushed against her shirt. She rubs your hair gently, her other hand adjusting the pads of the tens. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice muffled against Lucy’s t-shirt. 

Lucy holds you close, her heart breaking as she listens to your words. She knows how much this pain takes a toll on you, the unpredictability always throwing you through a loop. She strokes your hair softly, her face frowning when she thinks of how you dealt with this while she was gone. She knows you’re capable, but there’s a part of her riddled with guilt when she’s away having the time of her life touring and traveling, knowing you’re home in a similar position to now. She has to commend you when you are up and moving around again. She’s been home precisely 11 days while on a break before the next leg of the tour, and this is your first flare-up, your commitment to pain management and self-care paying off. 

“What time is it?” you mumble groggily, cheeks wet and flushed, eyes puffy. 

"It's a little after 6:30," Lucy gently murmurs, holding you close. She strokes your hair and your back with her hand, trying to offer some comfort despite the numbness you often feel in your head. She could tell that the flare-up had been particularly rough on you, and she knew that the pain had only exacerbated your exhaustion. She wanted you to get some rest, even though you were likely to toss and turn from the pain. 

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes closing, the ibuprofen and tens finally kicking in. 

“When did you walk, Murphy?” Lucy asks softly to gauge how long you’ve been lying in bed. 

“I don’t know… 3:30… maybe,” you slur, words soft and quiet. 

"That makes sense," Lucy whispers, her eyes on you as you slowly begin to relax and your eyelids droop. She smiles lovingly, her finger trailing down your face. She felt a little better seeing the tension in your face release and the creases between your eyebrows start to smooth out. 

She lays down next to you on the bed, her legs wrapped around yours, wanting to be close to you as you begin to rest. She closes her eyes and whispers, "I love you."

“Love you,” you mumble back, the faintest hint of a smile on your face, eyebrows finally relaxed. 

Lucy smiles softly as you say those words, her worries and anxieties slowly dissipating as she watches you fall asleep beside her. She worried about you and was scared to see you in pain. But the tiny smile on your face and the fact that you were finally falling asleep and getting some rest was a huge relief. 

Lucy watches you sleep for a while, Murphy moving up on the bed and a little too close for comfort for Lucy. She stands, tucking you in softly, removing the melted ice pack from your neck, and adjusting the heat pad further up your back. 

She beckons Murphy to the stairs; he’s staring at you in bed, whining softly. “Come on, Murph, potty time,” Lucy calls, trying to get him out of your bed and out of the bedroom. 

Murphy slowly gets off the bed, his ears drooping a bit. He doesn't want to leave you while you're sleeping, his stance at the foot of your bed almost protective. “Murphy, come,” Lucy says sternly, her tone soft enough to not wake you. He whines again, not wanting to leave but knowing he'll get much-needed attention and love once he goes outside with Lucy. 

"It's okay, Murph," she tells him quietly. She strokes his head and gives him a few scratches behind the ears, trying to gently encourage him to go outside. After a few more moments, Murphy finally gives in and follows Lucy down the stairs.

While Murphy does his business, Lucy can’t help but admire the sun setting, the sky awash with shades of orange, yellow, and pink. The trees and buildings cast long shadows across the skyline, and the view from your back porch was stunning. Lucy couldn't help but snap a few photos to capture the moment, knowing that it was something that you would love.

Eventually, she and Murphy return inside, throwing him a small treat and watching him gulp water as she fills his food bowl with dinner. She returns to the dining table, finally putting away the groceries, wincing when she remembers her perishables, but it hadn’t been that long. She moves about the kitchen, putting dry goods into jars and boxes in the pantry. While cleaning, Lucy can see the exact moment the flare-up started based on the random assortment of things lying out in the kitchen and moving into the living room. 

Lucy makes a quick little snack plate, knowing fully well you will only touch some of it. She fills up your huge water bottle with ice water and walks up the stairs, Murphy at her heels, excited for your bedroom door to be open again. 

Lucy gently nudges the door with her knee, and Murphy rushes in, excited to see you after being out. She places everything on the nightstand before moving to the bathroom to run a hot bath with Epsom salt, throwing some towels in the warmer, a thoughtful gift from Phoebe last Christmas. She returns to the bedroom, greeting you by kneeling on the floor near the bed, kissing your nose and cheek softly, her knuckle gently brushing your cheekbone. 

“Hmm?” you hum, eyes closed, feeling a nudging on the bed, Murphy’s nose gently pushing the back of your knee. Opening your eyes, Lucy is in view, her bright eyes and wide smile, soft features. “You look like an angel,” you murmur playfully, eyes crusty and cheek squished against the pillow. 

Lucy chuckles softly as you call her an angel, her face turning a bright shade of pink as she smiles softly. She gently brushes some of the tears from your face, her thumb gently caressing your cheek. "You need a minute to wake up?” she asks, unplugging your heating pad and checking the skin of your upper back again. You shake your head gently, the position becoming uncomfortable. “Hold on, sweetheart, give me a second,” Lucy says, tapping your shoulder as she pulls off the wires from your tens. 

“Bathtime," she teases, her voice still soft and gentle. She knew you were still in pain, and the exhaustion was catching up to you, but she wanted to make you comfortable. 

“You ran me a bath?” you ask, words still slurred from sleep. 

"Yes, I did," she chuckles softly, her face still flushed as she gently helps you sit up. She takes your hand and helps you swing your legs off the bed, trying to help you get your bearings. "It's just about ready. Do you want some help walking to the tub?" she asks gently.

“Please,” you whisper, eternally grateful for your sweet angel of a partner. 

"Of course, lovie," Lucy says softly, heart aflutter at your softness. She wraps her arm around your back and helps you walk down the short hallway and into the bathroom. She gently supports you until you're sitting on the closed toilet, and then she starts to help you undress. She's careful to keep you comfortable and not push you too much, but she also knows that soaking will help with some pain. “Arms up…atta girl,” she teases, lifting your shirt over your head. 

Lucy helps you slowly into the tub, hissing at the temperature and then relaxing in the hot water. A small smile grows on your face, almost bashful to sit in front of Lucy this way, even though this is common. 

 “Thank you,” you say, voice thick with emotion. Lucy sits down next to the tub, Murphy lying at her feet. 

"You're welcome, my love," Lucy whispers, her voice still gentle and caring. She leans against the tub, rubbing your knee, her eyes on you as you settle in and relax. Murphy’s head lifts to look at you softly, sighing contentedly and enjoying the quiet moment with his moms. The combination of the warmth of the bath and the Epsom salt helps to soothe your muscles and help you relax, and Lucy and Murphy are thrilled to see you finally getting a break from the pain.

[sleepy-the-loz-enthusiast]

Hey' I'm the one who sent the ask about modern au Four. It's fine that you lost the ask. I'm just excited for the you to share stuff about Four.

Aaaaaaa you're too kind thank you-

Here's the Four stuff you've been promised !!!

Just to preface, Four does not have DID or any similar conditions, just for the reason that I don't know enough about it to be able to potray it in a respectful and accurate way. If you do imagine Four with DID, that's valid, but they aren't here.

However, Four does categorise their thoughts into four categories-

Red: red represents emotional intelligence, compassion, and empathy

Blue: blue represents passion, protectiveness, and fury

Green: green represents loyalty, courage, and leadership

Violet: vio represents intelligence, knowledge, and dedication

Four just finds it easier to deal with conflicting thoughts by giving them names to better identify how they're feeling.

Anyways

Four is 15 in this au, though mistaken for much younger. He used to date a mysterious guy who called himself Shadow, but he went missing without a proper goodbye. Four's determined to find the cause of it, and so has developed an unhealthy addiction to true crime podcasts and researching similar macabre things. However on a different note, they also love fairytales and researching old folk stories. They pull a lot of allnighters... and have suffered a few broken toes for it.

Speaking of, Four lives with his Grandfather in a forge. After their father died at war and mother died in childbirth, Four's very close with his Grandfather and often helps out in the forge. Don't be fooled by their height or age; this fella's got biceps for days and is a very proficient blacksmith. He helps his Grandfather make weaponry for the Royal Family.

Four's also best friends with Dot since childhood !!

They have chronic migraines and hate it. Like, to the point where at worst he will be knocked out for days at a time, only waking up to eat, drink, and use the bathroom. They like to hide in the basement when this happens, I know there's nothing in canon about a basement but creative liberties?? because it's quiet, dark, and he doesn't need to move much. Their Grandfather's gotten pretty good at playing nurse while also working. At best it doesn't come to that, and Four's just heavily fatigued for a day and hates being around people. Oh, and he's developed a strong tolerance for most painkillers, rendering them ineffective. Poor guy.

Four's good friends with Wild, Legend, Hyrule, and Ravio at school, despite them being a year older. He's also friends with Wind and acts as a scary older brother figure to ward off anyone who tries messing with him. Despite the fact that Wind is taller and very capable of standing up for himself.

Four's also incredibly smart and fairly athletic, so they're pretty popular with students and teachers alike. People joke about them being able to read minds, but in truth Four's just observant and quick to make connections. He's won the school many prizes for maths and science. Buut Four's attendance isn't the greatest thing ever, and at least where I'm from teachers are kinda assholes about that. At least his grades and general attitude make up for it.

Four and Ravio have gotten into a physical fight over Monopoly before.

Aaaand with that, ramble over !

Thank you for the ask and I hope you liked reading this, have a great existence !!!!

[study-core-101]

Popular Study Methods I dont like

(By Jay)

A list of study techniques that dont work for me at all. But study methods can work amazing for one person and then just complicate studying more for another. If they work for you, awesome, i'm happy about that. These are my personal experience with them, a lot of people wont relate and thats fine, people are different. But if you relate why these common/popular methods dont work for me, know you arent the only one and that there are more options. People might tell you "this method is amazing, you should do this" and there for you is shit.

Memorazing

Avoid this. When you memorize you dont learn. You cannot conect concepts because you dont understand. One thing is memorazing formulas, which is nessesary, but memorazing everything doesnt work. Understandment is way better. Yes, we need to remember and storage the information in our memory, but memorazing is different. Knowing the theory ord by word is shit if you cannot explain it in different words, conect it wit other concepts or put in practise.

Flashcards

Yep, studyblr favourite study method. Bear with me.

For me, it is a really passive way. When i make the Q&As of the flashcards, i remember the answers. I dont think. I associate the words. And then, when the test has the questions phrased different, my mind goes blank. It seem liked i learned because i remember but i wasnt actually learning.

Now you are probably thinking "use it for vocabulary". That doesnt help me either. Maybe it helps for knowing the meaning in a reading, but writing? I cant remember the spelling. For learning to spell a word i need to write it down. Use it in a sentence. Reading it over and over doesnt do anything.

All-nighters

Oh god, there is nothing worse than an all-nighter. One all-nighter will ruin your sleep schedule for weeks and tired=learn less. Plus, too much all-nighters lead to burn out.

With better time management, all-nighters wouldnt probably exist, or at least, be reduced by a lot

Also, as someone with chronic migraines, an all-nighter'd only give me a week straight with only terrible pain and i prefer failing a subject than that (i'd had to learn the hard way that lesson. always prioritaze your health)

Pomodoro

It's a little bit hypocrital of me to put it here, as I usually reccomend it to others. But personally? It just de-motivaties and stresses me. (disclaimer: it is a good technique, thats why i recomend it even if it doesnt work for me).

I'll explain why. The only way i can do a lot of productive stuff together (or just a long assignment) is to "get in the mood" or have like a "streak". I usually have to power through the first 5-10 minutes of studying and then i get super motivated and do a lot until my brain asks for a break. When the timer rings, it breaks it and i have to repeat the rutine again. It wouldnt be so bad if it wasnt that i work 3 or 4 times faster when i motivated than when i am powering through.

Also, having the self-impose deadline of a pomodoro (i know it isnt technically a deadline, but for some unknown reason, my brain processes it as one) makes me nervous and gives me anxiety. Just knowing the timer is going to go off anytime un-focus me. It's unnesesary stress.

[happinessisntfun]

taking a moment to lay myself bare once again because what is tumblr for if not to post things incredibly personal and soul bearing when you should be in bed.

I am towards the end of my scheduled two weeks of leave. I have made considerable progress, but I started at rock bottom. I was not initially honest with myself about how far into burnout I was but surprise! I burned out three months ago and didn't realize.

I tore my acl in January and had surgery for that in February. I took most of the month of March off to recover, but I did not ease back into work, I jumped back in headfirst and foolishly.

I have had pt at least once a week since March, which is physically and emotionally demanding. Friday is my last session, but tbh, I probably should keep going. I just can't any more.

I work an incredibly demanding and high stress job. I transitioned fully to working from home in July after having multiple panic attacks on my way to and from work.

My migraines have picked up to the point where I have had eight migraine free days in the past 10 weeks.

I have been dealing with extreme chronic abdominal pain that I have not figured out the cause of since April.

wow some of these things are probably connected to that pesky burnout huh

I had a colonoscopy at the end of August and did not take a single moment to breath afterwards, even though anesthesia basically destroys me.

I have not cooked since May or June. I haven't been able to do much crafting for longer.

With all that in mind, I am going to take more time off. I need to finish dealing with the leave paperwork because my bank account is really feeling the missed paycheck now. I'm fine, financially. I have a high paying job and all my bills are paid until the end of the month and once I get this paperwork together, I'll get the majority of my pay for each week I'm off. (thank you, Jared Polis)

I has survived 100% of my worst days so far and I will continue surviving through this. Just needed to lay myself bare for a bit to try and cope with the realities of being disabled and chronically ill and temporarily injured.

The hazards of extending this leave further is that I need to have some very challenging discussions with loved ones so that understandings are reached.

I also need to figure out how to talk to my employer about this situation and make sure they understand that I will be coming back as soon as I can. (Thank fuck I've alluded to health issues before this crisis point and thank fuck for my wonderful amazing gp)

and that's the end of my deeply personal post. This is largely to process all of the shit I'm dealing with and hopefully set some things down. I'm probably going to send the link to this post to a few folks so I don't have to explain myself multiple times. I wonder if my parents know what tumblr is and if I can just send them this and tell them to shove their questions up their asses.