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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months ago

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Writing Notes: Realistic Injuries

References (Minor Injuries; Head Injuries; Broken Bones; Dislocated Joints; Cutting & Piercing; Blood Loss; Blunt Trauma; Burns)

WHAT'S "NORMAL"

For a normal, reasonably healthy adult the following reading are ‘normal’. Some variation is usual and what’s normal for one person may be abnormal for another.

Pulse Rate

Between 60-100 beats per minute

A fitter person will have a rate towards the slower end of the margin and a child or young person will have a naturally high rate.

Any drastic increase or decrease in pulse rate is cause for concern.

Blood Pressure

120-140 over 70-90

Can vary with the time of day, amount of stress and a number of other factors.

High blood pressure is not usually immediately dangerous but can cause long term damage.

Low blood pressure can cause faintness, dizziness and blackouts and is usually a sign that there is an underlying problem to be treated.

Body Temperature

36°C (98.6°F) to 37.5°C (99.5°F)

Relatively minor variations in temperature are cause for concern.

MINOR INJURIES

Bumps, bruises, cuts and grazes

All inconvenient.

But not incapacitating.

A blow to a bony part of a limb or to a joint

Hurts a lot at the time of impact (as anyone who’s banged their shin will agree) and may swell and stiffen.

The impact may also have the effect of temporarily disrupting the ‘power supply’ to the limb meaning the person getting hit is likely to lose their grip on anything they’re carrying and be unable to move the joint for a few minutes.

Bruises

Can take anything from a few seconds to over a day to appear and anything from a day to several weeks to fade away again.

Soft fleshy areas bruise much more colourfully.

Sprains and torn muscles/tendons etc.

Will stiffen, swell and become more painful after a few hours.

A bad sprain can be every bit as incapacitating as a broken bone.

HEAD INJURIES

Probably the most common injury in fiction.

From “let’s bash the bad guy over the head to stop him running after us” to those scenes where everyone gets thrown all over the flight deck by the first bit of turbulence and bounce their heads off consoles.

Minor Head injuries

The human skull is pretty robust and designed to take a fair amount of punishment. Consequently the occasional bump won’t do all that much damage.

A minor bump on the head may leave a character feeling dazed and suffering from a headache, blurred vision and ringing ears but will clear within a few minutes.

Facial bruising - quite uncommon, it takes quite a hard blow or a blow that impacts with the soft tissue around the eyes to leave a mark.

Minor cuts and lacerations on the scalp and face will hurt and bleed out of all proportion to their seriousness. [NOTE: A ‘laceration’ does not mean ‘a very bad cut’ – it is a term for a specific type of wound caused by the tearing rather than the slicing of the skin. It’s the sort of cut you get from being hit with a blunt object (or a fist).]

Medium Head Injuries

A more forceful blow (equivalent to a fall of several feet) can lead to complications of the injury.

Concussion (damage to the brain tissue) is quite common after a hard blow to the head and is often accompanied by temporary unconsciousness. (And it should be very temporary if you don’t want your character to be permanently damaged). This can also result in dizziness, nausea and, not surprisingly, a nasty headache.

Medium cuts and lacerations will be painful and messy but not dangerous. There may be scarring.

Severe Head Injuries

A blow to the head resulting in prolonged unconsciousness will almost certainly result in brain damage, possibly a fractured skull and bruising or bleeding within the brain itself. It can be fatal either straight away if the damage is extensive enough or later as the blood from the injury causes pressure to be put on the brain.

Severe cuts - can damage muscle and sinew and do permanent damage. The pain from such injuries would have most characters unable to concentrate on much else.

Concussion Symptoms

Confusion, disorientation, memory loss,

Dizziness, headache (lingering after the first few hours)

Nausea, vomiting,

Pupils uneven in size and/or reaction,

Sluggish reactions, sleepiness.

Any painkillers given to treat the headache must be non-narcotic and relatively mild. Otherwise it is difficult to tell if sleepiness is caused by a worsening of the injury or by the painkillers.

Someone suffering from a suspected head injury should be watched for at least 24 hours, and woken every few hours if they’re asleep, to check for the above symptoms.

BROKEN BONES

In general they hurt. A lot. Any character with a broken bone (with the possible exception of the ribs) is going to know about it and not be very happy. It is possible that if there is no displacement they might not hurt much at all, and it may not be immediately obvious that the bone is actually broken.

The initial shock and pain is often enough to cause unconsciousness. Keeping the limb immobile will minimise the pain but any pressure or movement is going to be extremely unpleasant.

Severe breaks (compound fractures) can cause part of the bone to protrude through the skin, this will also cause blood loss, which can be severe enough to be dangerous. Nerves and blood vessels can also be permanently damaged.

Smaller bones are obviously more likely to break than larger ones but they hurt every bit as much.

Distinguishing between breaks/sprains is not always easy with just 'it hurts to go on but as a guide… Lots of pain but some movement is a relatively good thing -- it indicates 'just' a tear. Less pain but very limited movement is a worry, because it can mean you've snapped something, and the joint becomes useless without surgery.

Broken Ribs

All sorts of nasty complications can arise here. For a start, though a character who has just broken a rib will feel winded and uncomfortable, the initial discomfort will pass quickly and they may feel fine for some hours afterwards. Possibly they may not even realise that they had broken anything.

After a few hours it will start to hurt badly and breathing may be impaired and painful. Problems can occur when the injured person is breathing only shallowly because of the pain and not expanding their lungs fully, lungs can collapse as a result, causing pneumonia. Interesting in a morbid kind of way is that the breathing difficulties of a collapsed lung aren't what gets you - it's the air pressure that builds up in the chest cutting of the blood flow to the heart.

Broken ribs can also puncture a lung or even the heart with fatal results. A punctured lung would result in death within 3-15 minutes if untreated.

DISLOCATED JOINTS

Hurt just as much as broken bones.

Can be forced back into place without medical facilities but it’s not recommended and will hurt a lot, probably enough to cause unconsciousness. On-the-hoof treatment is the same as for broken bones – imobilise and support the limb.

There are a few dislocations which can be life-threatening -- the sterno-clavicular joint (where the collarbone joins the breastbone) is one. It requires a lot of force to pop it (most people's collarbones will break before the joint goes), and the collarbone usually goes outwards, but if it displaces inwards, it can compress the airways. This joint can dislocate if you get slammed very hard into something like a wall and take the impact on the point of the shoulder. I can also say it hurts very badly and for a very long time.

CUTTING & PIERCING

most human beings come equipped with a healthy set of defensive reflexes to avoid it. If at all possible they will try to put something else (like hands) in the way of the blow. Most people injured in a stabbing have injuries on their hands and arms as well from trying to ward off their assailant.

The severity of the injury depends a great deal on its location:

Limbs

The arms and legs are not protected by much flesh so even a shallow cut or piercing injury here may damage bone and muscle and render the limb effectively useless.

Severe blood loss can occur if the major blood vessels in the inside of the upper arm and inner thigh are damaged.

Abdomen

Piercing injuries will bleed a lot and can easily do fatal damage, although unless a main artery is hit then it’s not going to be a quick death. A piercing more than 2 inches deep starts to get dangerous.

If the main descending aorta is hit, the character has seconds to live.

The femoral or renal arteries will lose a fatal amount of blood in 2 – 3 minutes.

Injury to internal organs would cause bleeding, infections and a nasty slow death if left untreated. Bleeding from the spleen or liver would cause death within 20 minutes. Less major damage to internal organs would cause death either from blood loss over several hours or up to several days later from infection and other complications.

Relatively slight cuts to the stomach area would affect breathing and damage muscles, More major cuts to this area can damage nerves and muscles, meaning the injured character would have no control over their legs. Not nice, when you’re trying to get away from the nutter who’s just sliced you up and suddenly your legs don’t work…

Extensive cuts here can also mean the insides are suddenly outside. Not pretty, not comfortable and, untreated, leaves the character with about 15 minutes to live and they’re going to wish it was much less. Quite apart from the pain (which is pretty horrific) the sight of their own insides tends to make most people quite hysterical.

BLOOD LOSS

Major blood loss will result in a fast weak pulse and accelerated respiratory rate.

For an average healthy person about a litre of blood lost is enough for shock to set in.

Loss of approximately a litre and a half to two litres or more will require transfusion.

Loss of more than 2 and a half litres will probably result in unconsciousness and, if transfusion is not given, death.

Symptoms of Blood Loss

Blood loss in litres < 0.75 || 0.750-1.5 || 1.5-2.0 || > 2.0

Percentage of blood lost < 15% || 15-30% || 30-40% || > 40%

Blood pressure Normal || Normal || Reduced || Low

Pulse rate (beats per minute) < 100 || > 100 || > 120 || > 140

Pulse pressure Normal || Decreased || Decreased || Decreased

Respiratory rate (breaths/min) 14-20 || 20-30 || 30-40 || > 35

Mental state Alert || Anxious || Confused || Lethargic

State of extremities Normal || Pale || Pale/Cool || Pale/Clammy

Amount of blood loss by injury

Severe blood loss, as a wound larger than a fist or that caused by a compound fracture. All figures are approximate and somewhat variable. They are meant as a rough guide only.

SITE OF INJURY || NORMAL BLOOD LOSS (Litres / %) || SEVERE || MAXIMUM

Shoulder: 0.85 / 17% || 1.25 / 25% || 2.1 / 42%

Arm: 0.4 / 8% || 0.85 / 17% || 1.25 / 25%

Elbow: 0.4 / 8% || 0.85 / 17% || 1.65 / 33%

Forearm: 0.4 / 8% || 0.85 / 17% || 1.25 / 25%

Wrist: 0.2 / 4% || 0.6 / 12% || 0.85 / 17%

Chest: 1.25 / 25% || 1.65 / 33% || 5.0 / 100%

Spleen/Liver: 1.25 / 25% || 1.65 / 33% || 5.0 / 100%

Pelvis: 1.25 / 25% || 1.65 / 33% || 5.0 / 100%

Thigh: 1.25 / 25% || 1.65 / 33% || 2.9 / 58%

Leg: 0.85 / 17% || 1.25 / 25% || 2.1 / 42%

Ankle: 0.85 / 17% || 1.25 / 25% || 2.1 / 42%

BLUNT TRAUMA

Getting hit…

Aside from the obvious risk of getting smacked upside the head or breaking bones (see above) there are assorted other injuries and complications which can arise.

Due to the elasticity of the ribcage getting smacked in the chest can cause a person to fly backwards some distance. Of course this means they can bounce off of something else and hurt themselves that way. At best they’re going to be winded and have difficulty breathing, which causes a certain amount of panic in most people. And it looks rather alarming.

Heavy blows to the back can damage the spine resulting in possible paralysis and death. Kidney injuries are also common when someone is hit in the small of the back. They can bleed and may shut down altogether. Kidney failure means the body can’t clear certain waste products from its system, if the waste products build up too far then coma and death can result.

Internal organs such as the liver and spleen can also be damaged by blunt trauma and bleed as detailed above. Other organs which may be injured are the pancreas and the intestines.

If the pancreas is damaged it may spill digestive enzymes which start to digest the person’s own insides. Obviously this is rather painful and unpleasant.

Damage to the intestines can result in blockages (causing pain, nausea and vomiting), bleeding, and the release of bacteria into the bloodstream resulting in septic shock (high fever followed by sudden drop in temperature and blood pressure – fatal if not treated) This can take 24 hours or more.

Usual treatment for internal injuries is IV feeding, antibiotics, painkillers and sometimes surgery.

BURNS

Burns are classified into degree by their seriousness.

1st degree burns – Red, sensitive skin, like a sunburn.

2nd degree burns – Blistering on the first layer of skin (the epidermis) only.

3rd degree burns – Damage to both the epidermis and dermis (the first two layers of skin), visible scars.

Burns over more than 70% of the body are life threatening due to dehydration and the risk of shock, kidney failure and infection.

Electrical shock

Physical marks can vary from none at all to severe tissue damage depending on the severity of the shock.

Internal damage can be done by electrical current traveling along the nerves and blood vessels.

Source: Leia Fee (with additions by Susannah Shepherd) ⚜ Part 2

#writing notes #writing reference #writeblr #spilled ink #dark academia #fiction #creative writing #novel #light academia #literature #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #writing prompt #poetry #writing prompts #writing tips #albrecht anker #writing resources

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0xo · 1 year ago

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i would like to remind everyone that most disabilities come with comorbidities. what this means is that, most of the time, someone who is disabled does not have just *one* condition that causes them pain or difficulty.

for example, i have crohn's, which is an autoimmune disease primarily affecting the bowels. i also have ehlers-danlos syndrome(eds), which is a connective tissue disorder. eds can make crohn's worse because eds can affect your intestinal lining. crohn's can make eds worse because crohn's can also affect joint inflammation, so loose joints become more inflamed than they otherwise would. both can severely affect fatigue levels.

these are just two things i deal with. there are other comorbidities and complications i deal with, like fibromyalgia, dysautonomia, nerve damage, and more; but eds and crohn's are the easiest to explain how they play off each other.

i don't think abled people realize that most disabled people deal with something like this. i see disabled people online being very open about their multiple diagnoses to raise awareness and understanding - and then i see abled people shitting on them because "there's no way you can have that many things wrong with you."

but this is the truth of the situation: being disabled is almost never a straightforward, one-and-done diagnosis thing. even if it starts as one diagnosis, many people discover or develop other problems as their health changes. or even develop other issues because of medications! the intravenous medication i took for crohn's causes arthritis in a significant number of patients, and is most likely responsible for just how severe my joint inflammation gets.

so if you're abled, and you've ever seen a long diagnosis list and thought maybe someone was exaggerating - please step back and rethink. this is a very common thing. i would dare to guess that more people are multi-diagnosis than single-diagnosis. you are not helping anyone by accusing someone of faking or exaggerating, you are just being ableist.

as a disabled person, it takes immense bravery to speak openly and publicly about how our lives are affected by our disabilities, and we do not deserve to be treated poorly for being honest about our realities. your lack of knowledge or willingness to learn should not become our additional pain.

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audhdnight · 1 year ago

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Just thinking about the common experience of late diagnosed disabled people of “the normal amount of pain is none” and how we’re just supposed to know that despite *some* level of pain being OUR normal for our entire lives, even if it’s usually not super bad it’s just always there.

Thinking about how, when I told my mother this, she asked me “So what’s hurt?” Which is very different than “what hurts?”

I looked at her, confused. “Nothing is hurt. I just hurt.”

And she says “But where do you hurt?”

“Well, right now it’s my stomach and my ankles-“

She cuts me off. “So you twisted your ankle?”

“No,” I say. “My ankles just hurt. I’ve been walking today.”

Now it’s her turn to look confused. “Just walking doesn’t make your ankles hurt. You must have sprained them or something.”

But I shake my head. “Nope. This just happens on days when I walk more than a little bit. My ankles hurt first, then my knees by lunch time. And if I don’t take a nap and stay on my feet all day, my hips will be hurting too.”

“Oh.”

Joint pain is my normal. Sometimes, if I barely walk all day, the ache in my ankles is barely noticeable and doesn’t affect my functioning because I’m used to it. If I do what most able-bodied people would consider to be a “normal” amount of walking, almost all of my joints will hurt by supper. If I have to wash dishes or run any errands, I’ll hurt so bad I can’t walk for the rest of the day.

Then there��s the chronic migraine attacks. I used to have them multiple times a week as a child, and no matter how I explained myself, nobody ever understood that they weren’t just headaches. I experienced those too, and frequently, but they were not the same. Thankfully, at the age of eleven, I found an article explaining migraine triggers. I was able to identify a few of my own triggers, and the frequency of my migraine attacks reduced to maybe a couple a month. For a few years I was basically on cloud nine, I’d never experienced such a lack of pain before and it was so freeing. Unfortunately, migraine is a progressive condition, so the attacks have gotten more frequent over the years.

And then there’s the “random” pains. Some mornings I wake up and my stomach hurts. Or my chest. Or my back. These are just things I have to live with, because my body’s connective tissue is… well, for lack of a better word, faulty. And I never knew that other people didn’t experience this, because how could I? We never talked about it. Sometimes I’d hear people complain about back aches and just assume they were like mine. Of course, I knew that injuring yourself could cause muscle aches, obviously. But I just assumed that *most* of the time, other peoples bodies hurt like mine did. I didn’t realize that humans aren’t supposed to “just hurt” without a connected incident.

And when I try to explain this to able bodied people, their response is always the same. “Well, everyone’s back hurts sometimes.” “Everybody gets headaches sometimes.” “You’re not special just because you’re too lazy to walk. I still go to work when I don’t feel good.” And no matter how many times I try to say that No, you don’t get it, I *always* hurt, they still brush me off and dismiss me.

#connective tissue disorder #hypermobilty syndrome #joint pain #migraine #chronic migraine #migraine attack #invisible disability #spoonie #disabled #disability rant #nightramblestm

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muttren · 1 year ago

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i have a disability. more specifically, i have a rare genetic condition called camurati-engelmann’s disease, or CED. it is also known as progressive diaphyseal dysplasia (PDD). it is an extremely rare disorder and only around 300 cases have been reported worldwide.

i figured i would make a post talking about it, in an effort to not only educate others, but to possibly connect with others who suffer from it as well. i apologize for the longer post but please this moment to learn about my disorder.

CED is a skeletal condition that is characterized by abnormally thick bones (hyperostosis) in the arms, legs and skull. the overgrowth in bone causes bone pain, muscle weakness and extreme fatigue. the pain feels like an electric stabbing pain, an ever-increasing pressure sensation around the bones affected, or a constant aching. pain can also occur in joints and they will often lock-up, becoming immobile and stiff. the pain is especially severe during 'flare-ups', which can be unpredictable, exhausting and last anywhere from a few hours to several weeks. this is a common occurrence for us, often causing extensive sleep deprivation from the chronic, severe and disabling pain. when this happens, we are often bedridden or housebound for days or even weeks.

those affected also have an unsteady walk and limp. thickening of the skull can also lead to neurological problems, like hearing loss, vision issues, vertigo and tinnitus. symptoms vary in severity from person to person. there are treatments, however it cannot be cured. pain management is a large aspect of living with this chronic disease.

there is very little awareness and research for CED. rare diseases are severely neglected and overlooked, as are those who suffer and live with them. research is often not considered profitable due to their cost to develop and the limited patient population. major federal funding agencies give preference to research that is likely to have a direct impact on patients.

living with a rare disease is extremely difficult and isolating. it impacts the lives of millions of us and our loved ones worldwide. those of us suffering from rare medical conditions should be entitled to the same quality of treatment as other patients. i am disabled, but i am worth it.

#camurati engelmann’s disease #ced #progressive diaphyseal dysplasia #pdd #disability #chronic illness #chronic pain #disabled #chronic fatigue #chronically ill #rare disorder #rare disease

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aibidil · 5 months ago

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Why you should wear your ring splints while crafting

Hypermobile hands suffer from a number of painful issues, the most common of which is swan neck deformity, which I have in index and pinky fingers. This is when hyperextension of the PIP (middle joint) damages the tendons, which pull on the DIP (top) joint, making that point downward.

It doesn’t cause me much pain (yet?), though sometimes it causes locking/snapping of the joint, so I often end up not wearing my ring splints on those fingers, even though I know I probably should for long-term reasons. So I was curious about how the ring splints would affect hand movement while knitting, and I recorded it with and without the ring splints.

The way this type of ring splint works is preventing hyperextension of the PIP. These photos show it pretty well in my left index finger. With the splint, I can still bend the top of my finger at the DIP (because I’m using it), but the PIP doesn’t collapse down. It doesn’t seem as important on the right hand with knitting (or on the thumbs).

(This type of splint doesn’t help a separate issue, which you can kind of see here, at the thumb MCP. I think it’s subluxating? It looks like an indentation in these pics but it only happens when I push the thumb forward. I have a thumb splint with an MCP stabilizer and extends down into the palm, but I tried it and it didn’t stop the subluxation.)

Related: holding a pencil. You need splinting on the DIP joint this time. Hot tip: my rings from my pinky PIP fit my index DIP, so when I’m writing I can just move it over.

Sharing because I went to a hand orthopedist about this and when I asked what I needed to do to reduce progression of deformity and preserve function, he literally was like 🤷🏻 I really don’t think they know what to do with young people in whom these problems aren’t associated with arthritis and hand weakness.

#hypermobile ehlers danlos #hypermobility #swan neck deformity #ring splints #knitting #crafting #if you’re in the us it’s way cheaper to buythem online #rather than trying to have a doctor do it #the company Silver Ring Splints is really expensive and usually what doctors use #I’d rec Zebra Splints

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saszor · 1 month ago

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Hey! You're tutorial on drawing burn scars was really helpful. I've been trying to draw burns for a while and I could just never find a tutorial for drawing them, especially not one that showcased burns on multiple skin colors.

I have a question though, and I'm not entirely sure if you'll be able to answer it or point me at a good resource, but I figured I'd ask anyways.

In the guide you have some different types of burn scars listed (hypertrophic, keloid, and contracture). Do you know what causes each type to scar differently? Is it the severity of the burn? Or something else.

Again, thank you so much for the work you've done. No pressure to answer if you can't, that's totally fine. Have a good day/night!

Hi! Fair question!

As for the severity: 1st degree burns very rarely leave anything behind after they heal and if they do it's usually mild skin discoloration. 2nd degree sometimes leaves some scarring but it usually fades away after some time since it's partial thickness, but deeper 2nd degree burns can cause permanent scarring that'll generally be less severe than those caused by higher degrees and mostly be hypertrophic. Third degree basically always leaves scars of all kinds. There might be tissue loss, so parts like ears or nose can be gone. Fourth degree is defined as going all the way to the bone, so the place with the burn will often be amputated because well it's just bone left. In this way it doesn't really leave scars I guess? But the area that's left will usually have severe scarring of basically any type.

For location: Hypertrophic scars happen wherever but are more common in places where skin is tight rather than loose. Pressure garments are used to prevent the hypertrophy so if for example your character wore compression sleeves as prescribed on their arms but nothing on their chest, the scars would probably be much more visible (more thick, discolored, and probably more painful as well) on their chest.

Keloids tend to form on the shoulders, cheeks, chest, and most commonly ears, but there is not much room to get a keloid there when it comes to burns - often if there is enough damage for them to scar, there will be tissue loss first. Keloids also happen more often in people with darker skin because their formation has something to do with melanocytes. Some people are also just more susceptible to getting keloids and if you have one you have a higher chance of getting another. Because of this keloids are rarely removed because they tend to just come back.

Contracture scars tend to happen where regular contractions do - where things move around a lot. So joints, facial and neck muscles, and especially digits. Contractures get less visible with physical therapy, wearing things like splints, or surgeries (like z-plasty or just skin grafts/flaps) that loosen them up and/or allow for more range of movement.

Ofc this is more of a rough guideline than anything else, every scar can potentially form anywhere and from anything (I'm just mentioning what's the Most Typical) and it depends on what resources someone has available to them. I have scars on my torso that according to this theory would have a high chance of being keloids (none of them are) and two on my hand that shouldn't have turned into scars at all (but they did) and they're hypertrophic for some reason. So I'd keep it in mind but don't stress about it 👍

#ask

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universalitgirlsblog2 · 7 months ago

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💗🍥GOOD POSTURE💗🍥

💗As I mentioned in my last post , a good posture will make you look more confident , graceful and elegant.

🍥If your posture is poor, your muscles need to work harder to keep your upright. Some muscles will become tight and inflexible. Others will become inhibited. Poor posture can make your lungs less efficient, cause back pain and tension headaches. It can also influence your emotional state.

💗If you are sitting , your neck should be vertical , and shoulders should be relaxed. Your knees should be relaxed. However If your posture isn't great , REDESIGN your environment.

🍥If you have a good posture , you will feel and appear confident , be more energetic , boost your productivity, improved blood circulation and digestion and reduce back pain.

💗Dear peachie made a video on good posture, she said that you are not ugly , you just have a bad posture. I will summarize that video in this post .

🍥Good posture is not only beneficial for physical health but for your appearance and self - confidence too. It shows the world how you feel about yourself. It can enhance attractiveness and the aura we exude. Aura is the quality which makes you stand out in the crowd.

💗TYPES OF POOR POSTURE

(A) Foward head Posture

The head appeared to be positioned in front of the body. Working for a long time infront of the computer , having a bad posture while sitting or standing or reading a book with your head down for a long period of time. All of these can form forward head posture. This can easily cause your trapezium muscles to become larger , thickening your upper back and cause a hump on back of your neck . It can cause neck and shoulder pain too .

To know if you have forward head posture , take help from family and friends or take a picture of yourself when you are doing your usual activities. Observe the position of your ears , shoulders and waist. If these three points are not positioned in the straight line , chances are high that you are leaning forward.

(B ) Hunchback

It is caused by weak muscles in back which occur due to slouching , hunching while sitting infront of TV or carrying a heavy backpack. To know If you have a hunchback:

Stand against the wall

Look at the distance between the most concave space behind the neck and the wall

Less than 3- 5 cm is relatively mild.

If you can do this effortlessly , it means that hunchback issue is just a matter of poor habit.

Tilt your head up in order to keep it against the wall.

Spine alignment issue.

Seek professional medical advice.

( C) Rounded shoulders

Resting shoulder position that has moved forward from the body's ideal alignment . Any activity which causes to look down can cause slumped shoulders. To know you have rounded shoulders

Stand in a regular posture and let your arms hang by your side.

Thumbs are pointed in toward your body and your palms are facing backwards .

The correct position is that the thumb should be pointed forward with the palms facing to the sides of the body.

(D) PELVIC TILT

Direction that the pelvis is tilted towards in relation to the body. The common pelvic tilt is faced by the majority is anterior or posterior pelvic tilted.

To know that you have anterior pelvic tilt.

Pelvic is titled forward

Frequently seen in people who sit for prolonged periods of time or are inactive.

To know that you have posterior pelvic tilt .

Pelvic is tilted backward.

Caused by poor hip and back strength.

🍥CORRECT YOUR POSTURE

(A) Shoulder and neck area

You need to be extra mindful to correct your posture and slowly replace the poor postures with the good ones!

Keep your shoulders open. Anterior region of our elbow should position to point forward.

Elbow joint is rested at side of your waist

Anterior region of your elbow is positioned to face forward.

Forearm swings slightly while you walk.

To sit with correct posture

Fold your body forward and place your bottom to the far back of the chair.

Scoot yourself a little to the back to ensure that your bottom is touching the back of the chair .

Sit up with your back straight and your shoulders back.

Your back will be fully supported by the chair . You will be able to sit in this posture comfortably for longer hours.

( B ) Back

Keep your back straight to avoid slouching.

Head, torso and both legs lie on the same axis when viewed from the front.

Head , shoulders, pelvis and ankles should be aligned to one another.

Shoulder blades are lowered towards the center of the back , keeping your back tucked together.

Keep your chest open and contract your glutes slightly while keeping your back straight.

Keep your knees side by side .

Point your toes in the 12 o clock or 1 or 11 o clock direction.

💗BE MORE ELEGANT

Seol Hyun is known for her perfect posture. She exudes charm and confidence.

To walk elegantly:

Raise one of your feet to take first step.

Your legs form one triangle shape.

Imagine yourself walking on a straight line , you walk with keeping your knees close to each other.

Kick the other leg out forward , keep yourself walking on a straight line .

Make sure the gap between your knees is close to each other.

Put your foot infront of other and place your foot to the ground .

Ensure both legs are straightened.

The front leg is extended, while the hind leg is pinned firmly to the ground.

Raise your leg and repeat the same steps again.

To walk stairs elegantly

Keep your upper body upright .

Step on the next staircase by focusing the weight on your toes.

After the front foot is stepped on the staircase and completely straighten out , take the next step.

To walk down stairs elegantly

Don't lower your head , instead lower your eyes to check on the placement of eyes.

Make sure you keep your back straight and extend your leg that will land on the next stairwell.

Dear peachie good posture video link- click me

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year ago

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When The World Is Crashing Down [Chapter 2: Choose Love Or Sympathy]

Series summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra's wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook's Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother's life. Now you are in the liar of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting...

Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, extreme babygirl energy, violence, serious injury, Larys Strong, alcoholism/addiction, references to sexual content (18+), Crab Family lore.

Series title is a lyric from: "7 Minutes in Heaven" by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter title is a lyric from: "XO" by Fall Out Boy.

Word count: 5.5k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! 🥰💜

A moment of clarity, something he’s having more of lately: eyes glassy but open, voice husky, words slow. His vast bedchamber in the Red Keep always smells like honey and rose oil and the brackish golden air that blows in off the ocean. Sounds float weightlessly through the open windows like feathers on waves, music and shouts and creaking wagon wheels, gull cries and sails cracking in the wind. Late-morning daylight is an aisle across the stone floor, a river, a channel. Aegon’s bed has been moved away from the windows; when his wounds are uncovered, direct sunlight can ravage him in minutes, fresh blisters, thickening scars.

Aegon winces as you sit behind him and knead warm rose oil into his back and shoulders. His flesh is a grisly mosaic: pink and crimson and white, knots of burgeoning scar tissue, spots that are still raw and weeping. “It itches like hell, does that mean it’s infected?”

“That means it’s healing. Do you want more?” You mean the goblet of pearlescent milk of the poppy on his bedside table. It’s always there, and refilled frequently.

Aegon shakes his head, groggy, slumped, white-blond hair loose and disheveled. “I should probably be sentient on occasion. You haven’t been helping me piss into chamber pots or anything, have you?”

You smile. “No. You’ve got servants for that.” Although they report their findings to you; Maester Arthur of Claw Isle once taught you that organ failure is a common cause of death for burn victims, even if they survive the risks of shock and festering. All appears well enough on the outside, and then they start pissing blood or their skin goes yellow as their innards lose their secretive divine cadence, that vital rhythm, and then the poor soul is gone within days.

“Thank the gods,” Aegon says. “A speck of dignity remains. It’s tragic enough that I now closely resemble an overcooked meat pie.”

You chuckle as you massage rose oil into his wounds, keeping the scars moist and supple so they do not split open when he moves, so his joints are not locked in place. He will need them when he is out of bed again. He will need them if he truly is the king. “I don’t think you look that bad.”

“Because you’re used to sifting through guts and corpses all day. I’m an improvement. I’m only half dead.” And just weeks ago, he was pleading to be all the way dead. He glances back at you, brow knitted into thoughtful furrows; you can see it between the messy locks of hair that shag over his face. “What made you want to study something like this? It’s gruesome. It’s miserable, thankless work.”

“I was never good at anything,” you tell him. “My sisters were, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t dance, couldn’t sing, couldn’t embroider patterns unless they were humiliatingly simple, and even then I loathed it. My father grew so desperate he encouraged me to try archery with my brothers. I accidentally put an arrow in the foot of a squire and that was the end of my bowwoman career.”

Aegon laughs, then groans at the pain it causes him. He turns around so he can look at you, clumsily repositioning himself on the feather mattress, propping himself up on his palms. He squints down at his left hand where his ring should be: gold wings, jade eyes. You will have to remind Aemond to give it back to him. “I was never good at anything either.”

You can’t imagine that to be true, and yet it’s what you’ve always been told, that he was gifted at drinking and whoring and nothing else. You cannot reconcile those stories with the man in front of you. You keep trying, keep failing. You slather your palms in rose oil again the then begin massaging it into his chest. Aegon watches you with muzzy, drugged interest, eyes like cold ocean currents. “Then, five years ago, my brother…” You hesitate. A real name, an imagined one? You decide there is no harm in this small truth. Aegon will not remember the name of a younger son of a Crownlands house; he barely recalls the men of his own Kingsguard, who now spend their days trotting around the castle after Aemond. “My brother Everett was burned very badly, just like you were, although his wounds were mostly to his legs. And we all thought he would die. People advised us to show mercy by giving him enough milk of the poppy to kill him. They said it would be a sin to let him suffer so terribly. Yet our maester believed he could save him. My father and eldest brother had other responsibilities to attend to, and my mother and sisters could not bear the sight of Everett’s injuries. But I watched the way the maester worked on him, and I just…I thought it was the most captivating, beautiful thing I’d ever seen. The way a body can be taken apart or put back together like stones in a wall. Place one here, remove one there, and then like magic you’ve changed the course of someone’s life. Our maester taught me how to clean burns and change bandages, and when Everett was well again, he taught me about broken bones, fevers, childbirth, wolf bites, dry drowning. I read every book on the subject of healing in my father’s library. He kept having to order me more from the Citadel. I think I would have liked to be a maester myself, but…”

Aegon grins. “You have to go marry your mystery nobleman.”

“And women can’t be maesters.”

“They made me king of the Seven Kingdoms but you can’t be a maester? Fucking ridiculous.” He studies you as your fingers—tenderly, carefully—press rose oil into the red scar that creeps up over his right cheek. “Why won’t you tell me who he is?”

He means your betrothed. Aegon keeps asking about him in his moments of lucidity. You quip: “I don’t want you to have him murdered.”

“That would solve your problem.”

“I preserve life, I don’t take it.”

“I’ve noticed,” Aegon says with a soft, tired smile. Very slowly, he reaches up with one hand to pat at his silvery hair. “Can you give me my braid back? It seems to have been washed out again.”

“Of course.”

“Why did you start doing that?”

What is the truth? Something you can’t tell Aegon. No matter how often I touch him, I want more. “It’s a war braid. You’re a warrior. You’ve earned it.”

“So I am good at something after all,” he murmurs. You rebandage Aegon’s wounds and help him lie back down again. You give him a sip of milk of the poppy, which by now is badly needed; Aegon’s face is sweated and pale and agonized. Then you clean the rose oil from your hands and begin weaving a small braid into his hair. He gazes vacantly towards the open window, bright warm light he cannot walk into. “I assume Aemond is…handling things.”

“Yes, he’s…” How will Aegon take this? Is it a relief, or a slight? There was a great ceremony. You did not attend; you were here tending to the Greens’ broken king. It’s where you spend most of your time. “He’s been made Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm.”

Aegon nods, his expression unreadable. “How’s Sunfyre?”

“Still at Rook’s Rest and gaining strength. He was climbing the cliffs as of a few days ago. But I’ll ask Aemond when I see him today.”

Now Aegon smiles again. “Sunfyre is fierce. He is extraordinary.”

“You both are,” you say as you fashion his silver braid; and Aegon stares as if he couldn’t have heard you correctly.

Her steps are so light that at first you aren’t aware she’s entered the room. You see her out of the corner of your eye and immediately stand, moving away from the bed, from Aegon. You feel strange touching him this way—unnecessarily, self-indulgently, greedily—in her presence. She is his wife, after all.

“Your Grace,” you greet Helaena, bowing. She does not look at you. She looks vaguely in Aegon’s direction instead. She is wearing a turquoise blue dress and her long hair pulled back from her face. The servants have dressed her, or Alicent; she cannot do it herself anymore. In her hands she holds a large glass jar of sticks and leaves.

“Hello, Helaena,” Aegon says, more like a sigh than a welcome.

She scurries towards him and sets the jar down on his bedside table with a clunk, right next to the goblet of milk of the poppy and a number of other drinks, things you ply Aegon with to keep him hydrated. Then Helaena speaks, her eyes on the contents of the jar. There is something else in there, you see now: a fat wriggling green creature, a caterpillar inching along the length of an upright stick. "For you."

“It’s very nice,” Aegon tells her, in a tone like a parent losing patience with their child.

“It takes nourishment and then rests,” Helaena says. “It is wrapped in a cocoon and stays there for a long while. But when it emerges, it is not just well again. It is greater than it was before. And it can fly.”

“Oh, I understand now.” Aegon makes no attempt to touch her—not even her hand, not even for a moment—but his words are kinder. “I am the worm. Thank you, Helaena. This comforts me.”

She is satisfied. She turns to leave.

“Your Grace,” you begin, and hold out your hands to her. She does not take them. She does not meet your eyes; she stares instead into the golden luminescence of the open window behind you. You can hear crashing waves and the screeches of swooping gulls. “I wanted to express…I cannot even begin to tell you…I am so, so sorry for your suffering—”

She spins away from you and sweeps out of the bedchamber. You are left looking at the empty place where she stood, heartsick and sorry. What did I do wrong? What should I have said?

Aegon offers you an apologetic smirk, but his eyes are sad. “It’s not personal. She doesn’t really like touching anybody.” This is an irony, and one that must read on your face. A king and queen—by definition, by necessity—do an inordinate amount of touching. He invades, she endures, they knit heirs together out of threads of blood and sweat. “What we have between us, it’s not…romantic. It never was.”

This is not something he should be telling you. It is not a jest but a spilling of deep, sacred truths. “I didn’t ask.”

“No. But you were wondering.”

You were. You return to the bed and sit down beside Aegon, finishing his braid. You choose your words precisely before you speak. “I don’t believe I have a right to know certain things, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about what you’re thinking.”

“Then let me unburden myself so there is no confusion,” Aegon insists, drowsy but fighting sleep. “There was no joy in it for me or Helaena. I tried to make it as quick and painless as I could, but still, her disdain for the task was obvious. It happened just often enough to conceive the children. And we haven’t even tried in months, not since…” He doesn’t need to say it. Everyone knows, Greens and Blacks alike. A son for a son. The murder of Jaehaerys, six years old and utterly powerless, in exchange for Aemond slaying Luke.

Do you think such a thing was just? No, of course not, how could anyone? Very few things that happen in this world are just. They come with passionate defenses but no mercy, no vision for a less violent future. The wheel goes around and around, and everyone takes their turn being crushed. “Aegon, I’m so sorry,” you tell him softly.

He shakes his head. He will not discuss it. Aegon’s remaining children, Jaehaera and Maelor, do not ask about him; on the rare occasion that Alicent brings them to his bedchamber, they do not seem to know who he is. In fairness, Aegon does not seem to know them either; he regards them with a dull sort of bewilderment, like one might peer down at a page written in a foreign language. In the hallways of the Red Keep, the children clutch at Alicent and Otto, and sometimes Aemond will take a few minutes to play with them, stacking wooden blocks or arranging cloth dolls in a miniature castle. But if ‘mother’ and ‘father’ are words the children know, you’ve never heard them spoken aloud. “Can I have some wine, please?”

“Did you finish your goat milk?”

“Resentfully.”

“Then yes. I’ll get it for you.” You pour Aegon a cup of red wine and then tilt it against his lips. He slurps the cup dry before his eyes dip closed. You set the empty cup on the bedside table, feel his forehead for fever—longer than you need to—and then rise to leave him. You are almost to the door when you hear him say: “Thank you for changing my mind.”

You turn back to Aegon, puzzled. “About what?”

“About wanting to be dead.” He grins and waves, a weak miniscule motion of his left hand. “Come back soon, angel.”

“I will,” you promise.

And only then does he surrender to blessedly numb unconsciousness, the only place in the world that doesn’t hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~

You find Aemond in his own rooms. He is sitting in front of the large circular mirror on his vanity. His hair is long and straight and painstakingly neat, his tunic made of black leather. He is wearing the crown of Aegon the Conqueror. Rubies fracture the sunlight and scatter it against the walls; Valyrian steel glints.

Aemond marvels, knowing that you’re here: “It looks better on me than it ever did on him.”

“I need more rose oil.”

In the mirror’s reflection, his lone blue eye darts to you. “You always ask so politely.”

“I didn’t want to waste your valuable time. I can be more loquacious, if you prefer.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He stands, taking off the crown and placing it—gingerly, with both hands—on his vanity. “I’ll see that you have everything you require.”

“I am eternally appreciative.”

Then he does something that he thinks is amusing, a little joke you share. He grabs for your arm and you yank it away just before his fingers can close around your wrist. This makes him smile; it’s one of the only things that does. “Now follow me,” he orders, striding past you and through the doorway.

You hurry after Aemond, dashing through corridors and archways. You know where he is going; this has happened before. As you ascend a staircase, Alicent is leading Jaehaera and Maelor down to the gardens. She has one tiny hand gripped in each of hers; the hem of her emerald green dress drags on the stone steps. She keeps losing weight. You stop to scoop Maelor up and hug him—he giggles, squeezing at your cheeks as you smack kisses onto his face—and then turn your attention to Jaehaera. She has just learned the rules of curtsying and loves to practice. You bow to her, and then she does the same to you, and while her head is bent low you ruffle her silvery hair until it is in hopeless disarray and Jaehaera is laughing hysterically. Then you kneel down so she can sabotage your hair however she sees fit. She pulls strands out of your sensible low bun until you give up and shake it all loose. Alicent—large dark eyes, demurely veiled auburn hair, somber and suffering—gives you a grave, grateful smile. Aemond has waited at the apex of the stairs for you. When you rejoin him he continues onward to the council chamber.

Inside men are taking their seats and already beginning to quarrel: Criston Cole, Otto Hightower, Grand Maester Orwyle, Tyland Lannister, Jasper Wylde, Larys Strong, the knights of the Kingsguard. Sir Rickard Thorne pays no attention to you. Aemond once mentioned off-handedly: ‘Sir Rickard, I believe our healer is a distant relation of yours.’ The knight had glanced at you and produced some noncommittal reply, oh, indeed, sure, is that so. You had met before, you realized when you saw his face, years ago, at some event that brought together the houses of the Crownlands, a wedding or a funeral or a feast. He has a hazy recollection of you, but he cannot pin it down; he spent the evening with boisterous young men like your eldest brother Clement, while you had spent it with other noblewomen. Sir Rickard’s mother or sisters could probably identify you as a Celtigar. To Rickard himself, you can masquerade as some unimportant cousin he is ashamed to have forgotten. You assume your usual place in the council chamber: standing in a corner, trying not to be noticed, only there in case specific questions involving Aegon’s medical treatment arise.

“Is he dying?” Otto asks Aemond. “He must be. He has no interest in whores.”

Aemond raises his eyebrow at you. “Actually, I’ve been informed he is improving.”

Maester Orwyle beams at you. Upon your arrival in King’s Landing, he had confirmed to Aemond and Criston what you already knew: that while the Citadel’s guidance several decades ago was indeed pork lard or cow dung to treat burns, now there is a growing consensus that vinegar, honey, and oil for scar tissue are the best available remedies. You nod back. You are natural allies; the Greens’ king is under your joint care. You both have much to lose if he dies.

Now Otto Hightower addresses you. He is a stern, weathered, shrewd man. He reminds you of your father, though far more humorless. “When will he be able to fight again?”

“Fight?” you echo, stunned. “In battle? Months at least, my lord. Perhaps a year.”

“A year!” Otto bellows, then turns his wrath on Criston and Aemond. “I told you, I told you! I urged him to exercise caution, over and over again I warned him of the danger, and while I was penning letters to every possible ally you were pouring poison into his ears, convincing him that I wasn’t doing enough. Now look at him! Look at this goddamn fucking mess!”

“How fares the dragon?” Tyland Lannister says.

“I received a raven from Rook’s Rest today,” Aemond replies. “Sunfyre is eating well and ambulatory.”

“Useless,” Otto hisses. “Can’t fly. Can’t be moved. A waste of the livestock he’s being fed.”

“We may yet find a purpose for him,” Aemond says.

“Two dragons!” Otto explodes. “Can you count them?! We have two dragons capable of combat, and one of them is ridden by a fifteen-year-old. The Blacks still have Syrax, Caraxes, Vermax, Tyraxes, and Moondancer. And gods help us if they find someone to ride any of the other unclaimed beasts on Dragonstone. Seasmoke, Vermithor, Silverwing, Grey Ghost, the Cannibal…”

“I hope they try to tame the Cannibal,” Criston mutters. “If we’re lucky, he’ll eat them all.”

“My lord,” Larys Strong says to Otto, clutching his cane; he has a habit of lacing his fingers overtop the handle and resting his chin on them. Larys is a watchful, quiet man who speaks rarely yet with great consequence. He is the Master of Whisperers, he is the Lord of Harrenhal, and aside from that he is an enigma to you. “I hate to be the bearer of unfortunate tidings, however I must speak plainly. I have just obtained reports that the Blacks are pursuing precisely the course of action that you fear. Jacaerys Velaryon is offering land and knighthood to any man who can mount a dragon and join their cause. The realm is littered with Targaryen bastards, I’m certain it is only a matter of time until they find at least a few candidates suited to the task.”

Otto slams his fist down on the table. You startle at the noise; Aemond glances over at you. “No king. No Sunfyre. Dreamfyre in the Dragonpit, who Helaena cannot fly into battle. A fucking disaster.”

“We have Vhagar,” Aemond says confidently.

“She is worth two full-grown dragons,” Otto pitches back. “Not four or five.”

“Daemon is the real threat. If I can eliminate him, the war is over.”

“Daeron should be prepared for combat,” Jasper Wylde says. “He is travelling with Lord Ormund Hightower’s army in the Reach, but he can easily be called back to King’s Landing. He could assist Prince Aemond in his pursuit of Daemon and Caraxes.”

“I don’t need his help,” Aemond replies darkly.

“Then perhaps he could safeguard the city once you’ve gone.”

“We cannot sacrifice military strategy on the altar of personal vendettas,” Criston says. “Dragons are best used on the battlefield against soldiers and castles, not on meandering quests to find one lone enemy, that’s a needle in a haystack, it’s a misallocation of precious resources.”

Aemond counters: “But if I can kill Daemon, nothing else matters—”

“It does matter, Aemond!” Criston roars. “I matter, the armies matter, winning the confidence of the houses you hope to rule matters!”

“How is Corlys Velaryon handling all of this?” Otto asks Larys. “The defeat at Rook’s Rest, the death of his wife?”

Larys answers: “He blames Rhaenyra for the losses. He has taken it badly. It is my understanding that he intended to withdraw his support from the Blacks, and was brought back only by Jacaerys giving him the title of Hand of the Queen. I am under the impression that Corlys may be willing to reconsider his allegiance if the circumstances were right—”

There is a knock at the council chamber door, not a knock but a pounding, not a pounding but a frantic drumming like the marching of soldiers’ boots. Sir Criston Cole unlocks and opens the door. Alicent stands there with her face flushed and shiny with tears. Instantly, Criston is at her side asking what is wrong, one hand resting protectively her shoulder, the other on the hilt of the sword he wears everywhere he goes.

“Come quickly,” Alicent begs you, only you. “Please. It’s Aegon.”

You race with her to Aegon’s bedchamber, hearing the screams long before you reach him. This doesn’t make sense; he shouldn’t be in pain this severe, not yet, not for hours. You are aware that there are footsteps thundering behind you, Aemond and Criston rushing to see if the king really is dying this time. In his bed, Aegon thrashes and moans. He needs to stop moving so violently; he will split his scar tissue like burst seams. Already you can see blooms of crimson appearing on his bandages where the wounds beneath have reopened: his neck, his waist, his ribcage. He is out of his mind. He is destroying himself.

He is shouting for Sunfyre, for Aemond, for Criston. He is back at Rook’s Rest being roasted alive in his own armor. Not dying, then; just having a nightmare. You kneel at his bedside and smooth his hair back, his braid threading through your fingers, and whisper to him that it’s alright, that he’s safe, that he needs to wake up now. Alicent is weeping, both hands covering her mouth. Aemond and Criston are watching you, mesmerized, transfixed.

Aegon’s oceanic eyes fly open, wide and panicked. “Where am I?”

And you smile down at him, your palm cradling his unburned left cheek. “The end of the world.”

He blinks. He remembers. His lips stretch into a grin. “There you are,” he tells you, voice gravelly and low. “I dreamed everyone was gone and you were too.”

“I’m here.”

“You aren’t in a hurry to abandon me for your burly betrothed?”

Cregan Stark must think I’m dead. “No, Aegon.”

“You can’t leave without telling me.”

Everett, Clement, my father, my mother, Piper, Petra, Penelope, they must all think I was burned to ash on the battlefield or murdered and tossed into the sea. “I know. I won’t.”

“You can’t leave,” he says again, a half-awake whimper as he sinks back into unconsciousness. You give him more milk of the poppy, enough to make his sleep deep and black and dreamless.

You reclean and rebandage Aegon’s wounds. It takes hours. Aemond fetches Maester Orwyle to assist you. Criston comforts Alicent, wanting to do and say far more than he can. When it is done, only Alicent remains in the bedchamber with you. She visits Aegon frequently, but she does not know how to speak to him; she always stands there clasping her own hands together, praying and stalling, desperate to show him love and yet incapable of it.

“Thank you for what you’ve done for him,” Alicent says, tears glistening in her umber eyes. “Not just the hours, not just the medicine. For everything that you’ve done.” And she embraces you, and when she does you hold her like she wishes her own daughter could.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the night you see it repeating like a chorus of a song in the shadows that crawl across the ceiling: one year ago, stray snowflakes in your hair, stars in a black sky and air like metal.

The Celtigar fortune is older than the Targaryens’ conquering of Westeros, older than the Doom of Valyria. Where did the money come from? Friends of the Celtigars would say distinctively cunning maritime trade; their enemies would say piracy. Perhaps the two are not always so different. Is there any mechanism of accumulating great wealth that does not involve stealing in one form or another, of wringing out some other soul like a wet cloth until every drop of them disappears down your throat? Your ancestors did not tame dragons, but they had a different sort of gift: for every coin, they could find a way to make two or six or ten. Repeat that process for centuries and there are vaults filled to the ceiling with gold coins like pieces of the midday sun.

When Daenys the Dreamer had a vision of the Doom over a decade before it left Valyria a smoldering, fragmented wasteland haunted by demons and plague, only three Valyrian houses heeded the warning. Her own family, the Targaryens, relocated to Dragonstone. The Velaryons, having already long occupied Driftmark, resolved to stay there. And the Celtigars—merchants to some, pirates to others—crossed the Narrow Sea to settled on Claw Isle.

Crispian Celtigar served as Master of Coin to Aegon the Conqueror. Alton Celtigar was his Hand of the King. Edwell Celtigar was chosen to be Hand of the King to Maegor I, and later Master of Coin to Jaehaerys I during his minority. The Celtigars have never been far from the Iron Throne…though perhaps none were ever as close as you are now.

One year ago, your father embarked upon a trade mission to White Harbor. Never a man to squander an opportunity for new business, he added stops in Oldcastle, Cerwyn, and Winterfell, and brought along his four maiden daughters to stoke the desires of Northerner lords. Piper fancied a son of Lord Manderly, Petra caught the attention of a Cerwyn boy. But no offer was advantageous enough for Bartimos Celtigar’s liking; no deal could be struck.

In Winterfell, Lord Cregan Stark was already married. His wife, a childhood friend before she was a bedmate, trudged around the castle heavily pregnant and dragging layer upon layer of furs to guard her against the cold, often biting even in summer. Lord Cregan took little notice of your giggling, gossiping sisters, and even less of you…until he broke his sparring partner's arm in the castle courtyard. As the other women fled with nauseated faces back to their needlework, you asked Winterfell’s maester if you could watch how he set the fracture and managed the man’s pain. The maester was delighted—Northerners, as a rule, lack intellectual curiosity—and even allowed you to help bandage the wound once the split bone had been popped back into place. And it was only then, as you knelt there with your forehead creased with determination and blood coating your hands to the knuckles, that Lord Cregan Stark began to see you.

You have a fear of marriage, not a general aversion but a specific and powerful dread. When you were fourteen, you asked your mother if she enjoyed lying with her husband, and you had known as soon as she spoke with a careful sort of reticence—‘I enjoy feeling close to him, I suppose’—that the answer was no. When you were sixteen and your cousin Theodora married into House Bar Emmon, you went with the other noblewomen to inspect her bedsheets the next morning, and were horrified by how they chuckled at the large rust-like stain and recalled their own initiations into sex, this unavoidable rite of passage, this ultimate surrender. At breakfast, the men toasted wine and hooted and sang, while Theodora stared down with glazed eyes at her untouched bacon and duck eggs and said when Piper asked how the night went: ‘He wanted me three times. Is there anything I can do to make him stop?’ And you had thought: Aren’t unions like this supposed to be holy? What the hell do the gods have to do with it? Are they in the sweat, in the bleak resignation, in the linen of the sheets? Do they fill the man with blind lust like an animal’s, do they help hold the woman down?

Your eyes close as you lie in bed in the Red Keep, your room adjoining Aegon’s, and suddenly you are back in Winterfell again. You are making notes as the maester shows you the herbs growing in the Glass Gardens when Cregan finds you. He is tall and broad, made more so by the furs that engulf him like mist drapes the stony cliffs of Claw Isle. His voice is booming, thunderous, cataclysmically formidable. He is used to being listened to. He has never been expected to sit quietly as other men charted out his life like the route of a trade ship: here you will go, here you will be emptied of every scrap of value. He says he will give you a tour of the Library Tower. It is not an invitation; an invitation can be declined.

You walk together through the Godswood—dark water, blackberry bushes, crows squawking, gods you do not believe in—and Cregan tells you fond memories of his childhood. He likes hunting and archery. He spars in the courtyard for hours each day. He never stays still, he never goes quiet. He wants to know where you learned to marvel at the ghastly art of piecing broken bodies back together again. He wants to know why you are so different from other women. And he inquires with great fascination about the legendary treasures of your house, not just gold but rubies, jeweled cups, Myrish carpets and Volantene glass, a horn said to summon krakens from the sea, an axe made of Valyrian steel.

Winterfell’s library is sparse and dusty, cobwebs in shadowy alcoves. Cregan Stark thinks you will not notice. As he slips books about anatomy and herbology off the shelves to show you, you cannot help studying his hands, large and calloused and always stained with black patches of ink or soil or soot. They make yours look tiny and defenseless, skin of silk and bones like glass. You picture him claiming you, owning you, climbing into the marital bed knowing that you cannot refuse anything he asks for. You envision him forcing your thighs apart with those huge filthy hands, leaving smudges like ash. You imagine him tearing his way into a part of you that feels so small, so vulnerable; you imagine the suffocating burden of his interminable weight.

A moment of clarity, in the library beathing dust and Cregan’s scent, a woodsmoke musk, a wolflike wildness: I don’t know this man. I don’t trust this man. I’m glad he’s not free to marry me.

This was before the war began, before Cregan’s wife Arra Norrey died birthing their son Rickon, before Jace Velaryon arrived in Winterfell to forge the Pact of Ice and Fire. And when Cregan agreed to support Rhaenyra’s claim to the Iron Throne, and Jace pledged to marry his firstborn daughter to Rickon, the Warden of the North decided there was one last thing he wanted inked into the covenant. He wanted an ally in the South, bottomless wealth, his future children to have Valyrian ancestry. He wanted a woman with vigilant, unflinching eyes and blood on her hands.

He wanted you.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x you #hotd fanfic

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tteessiiee · 19 days ago

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Health impacts of obesity, death feedee edition

TW: this is dark and very real, do not read if you are not ready to understand the consequences of feedism. And I really mean it. It may be f* scary.

You know I study physiotherapy at med school. And Im also a feedee, feeder, FA... Which means that mine internships in hospitals are pretty heavy and hard for me. I see all the impacts of obesity, or even morbid obesity on people and their health. On their life.

We are all talking about heart-attacks. Sure, your arteries getting clugged, atherosclerosis growing in your body and getting you closer to an early grave. But atherosclerosis does not cause only heart-attacks. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? Feeling your heart struggling, pain in your chest (which you deserve for being the pig you were), and pretty soon there is the end. Death.

But atherosclerosis can also cause strokes. And I don’t think you want that. Part of your brain gonna die, part gonna live. It can affect your motor functions, your ability to feel by touch, your ability to know where and how placed your limbs are, your speech, of course your ability to think. You may die, sure. Or you gonna survive and live way way worse life fully dependant on people around you… Did you know that?

You also might ruin your pancreas. Im sure that many of you already have insulin tolerance way higher than you should. Well diabetes mellitus is incoming if you will not change your lifestyle. It does not only mean that you will need to take insulin! It will also damage your nerves. Neuropathies are very common. DM can lead even to amputations of legs. And also an impact on eyes is very well known, you can become blind. Over all diabetes is a metabolic disease and it has huge impact on your whole body – nerves, organs, veins, everything.

Another effect of our feedee diet - your liver become fattier making it work less. And liver are very important organ! Liver steatosis can become cirrhosis, the organ will be very damaged. Btw it also gonna increase your blood pressure which has significant impact on probability of heart-attacks and strokes. Another thing – there can appear stones in your gallbladder. That is mainly caused by eating too greasy and fatty food. And this also can be very painful situation needing a surgery.

It is proved that obesity increases the risk of cancer, especially cancer in gastro-intestinal tract and urogenitals. One more thing that people do not want.

Not to mention your musculo-sceletal system. Arthrosis in joints (another painful thing restricting your daily life), unfit and stiff muscles, bones easier to break by your weight if you fall… And it will not hurt only when you move. But also when you lie in your bed getting stuffed to the brim once again. Who of you have never ever had back pain, mainly lower-back pain? It is not comfortable, is it? And it only gonna get worse if you don’t exercise.

There are also impacts on your skin but i'm not good in this field so can't say much about it.

I know it is a lot of fun to be a feedee. To gain, get fatter, heavier, softer. Getting out of breath easily? Oh f* yes please, it makes you so horny. But there is a huge impact on your health. Im sure you know it. But maybe you don’t know all the specific things that may happen. This is just a brief list of health complications that obesity brings. So if you are a death feedee, go on! Eat yourself to these diseases if that’s what you want. But be aware that your life probably will not end by a sudden quick heart attack. You will suffer many months and years due to many comorbidities till your body will give up on you. Are you ready for that long pain?

Wanted to let you know so that I can feel better when I actually encourage you to gain. You know, consent means that you agree while being aware of the consequences. If you want me to help you get morbidly obese I wanna be sure I warned you. And maybe (hopefully) this gonna help someone to stop gaining so much if they find out that they would not be happy. Because babes – I don’t want you fat in the first place. I want you happy.

That’s the reason why im drinking 700 kcal hot chocolate made of heavy cream while writing this article. It makes me happy to gain. It makes me happy being fat even though I know all of these things. And it also scares the s*it out of me. I fear it so much. I want it so much. Im not a death feedee in real life, will not let the kink kill me (I hope). But I definitely am a death feedee in fantasies, deep inside and sometimes it is really hard to find the difference between having fun and ruining your body.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I warned you it gonna be dark and real 🖤

Enjoy your life as you wish 💕 Give fully into hedonism or enjoy the parts of feedism that don't kill you - that is your choice. Your body. Your life. Your death.

~ Tessie

#dark feedism #dark feederism #death feedism.#death feedee #feedism health #health consequences #health concerns #feedee.#feeder.#feederism.#feedism.#feedee girl #gaining #fatter #getting fat #gaining weight on purpose #feederism health #feedism consequences

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cosmicintro · 2 years ago

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Astro observations: Health aspects from the 6th house 💫

6th house in Aries: Be mindful of strong reactions, impulses and emotions as these could trigger high blood pressure, stress or unwanted headaches. Possible problems associated with the adrenal glands if health is not good. The person could be nearsighted/farsighted. Teeth issues and sensitive gums are common with this placement.

6th house in Taurus: Be careful with ‘burnout’ and try to keep a healthy work-life balance. The individual is prone to respiratory conditions, jaw and neck pain/problems, weight gain (associated with thyroid issues). Thyroid disease. Problems with your voice or throat. Take it easy and follow a rhythm that honors your needs.

6th house in Gemini: Allergies, infections, asthma, cough, breathing issues. Arms, hands and fingers might be sensitive. Anxiety and nervousness caused by too many unorganized/unwanted thoughts. Be careful with hand, arm and/or shoulder injuries.

6th house in Cancer: Sensitive breasts/chest area. Inflammation associated with water/fluid retention. Pay close attention to your salt and fat consumption. Intolerance to different ingredients. It is vital for individuals with this placement to express their emotions as this can feel like a detox process for a 6th house cancer.

6th house in Leo: Hear what your heart is telling you. Don’t let stress or anger take you 'over the edge'. Similar to Aries in this house, it is common for the native to suffer from high blood pressure if a balanced lifestyle is not followed; a healthy diet will help this native tremendously. Be careful with hernias and your spine. Back pain/injuries. Spend more time outside.

6th house in Virgo: Food sensitivities. Problems with digestion. Pay attention to sugar, fats, starches and the way your body reacts to them. Pancreatitis. Bloating associated with food intolerances. Meditation is recommended to calm an active mind and a healthy relationship with food will help with digestive issues.

6th house in Libra: Lumbar pain. Problems with the lower back. Sensitivity to salt. Kidney stones. Insulin resistance. Diabetes. Partnerships have a big influence in your life; stress or strong (negative) emotions resulting from these relationships can have a big impact in your health.

6th house in Scorpio: Constipation. Bladder/Urinary tract infections. Issues with libido/sex hormones. Cystitis (inflammation of the bladder; can cause pain or/and a burning sensation when peeing). Problems with the colon and elimination systems. Let go of any guilt/shame around your sexuality and keep a healthy relationship with your needs.

6th house in Sagittarius: Issues associated with the pituitary gland. Hip mobility problems, pain or injuries. Obesity. For optimal liver health, alcohol and stress levels need to be monitored and, if possible, reduced to a minimum. Yoga can help ease stiffness around the hips and thighs.

6th house in Capricorn: Knee pain. Injuries/procedures can cause significant scarring. Hair loss or scalp issues. Arthritis and joint pain. If your body is telling you to slow down, honor it and rest. Movement in every way is beneficial for the native. Be careful with your bones.

6th house in Aquarius: Varicose veins. Frequent cramps. Arteries and veins might need to be monitored closely, as the native is prone to circulation problems. Calf pain. Stress, nervousness, anxiety, insomnia. Be careful with addictions. Stay hydrated.

6th house in Pisces: Problems with the lymphatic system. Feet pain, inflammation, discomfort, injuries. Plantar fasciitis. Be careful with falls. Sleep problems, nightmares. Sadness that can lead into deep depression. Time alone is necessary. Make sure you’re getting the hours of sleep that your body requires to work harmoniously.

Stay tuned for more! :)

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astro placements #zodiac #zodiac signs #the 6th house #birth chart #birth chart placements #mars #neptune #pisces #aries #cancer #escorpio #astrology placements #my text #mp

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a-little-revolution · 4 months ago

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Hi lovely, I hope you are well?

I saw the ask about the bathroom accommodations and it got me really interested in two things.

1) what are accommodations that are hLepful (trying to 'help' without actually considering the needs of the individual, for example the step not enabling independence and I imagine from prior posts that it would also cause strain on your joints? (Plus the whole hygiene side, run into that one myself with suggested accommodations) )

2) what accommodations would you want to see in public spaces (doesn't have to be bathroom related, this just showed me a gap in my awareness and I'd like to work on it so I can include more awareness whenever I'm partaking in conversations around accessibility. If you have prior posts do link them, the only one that's coming to my mind right now was discussing the lack of accessibility in hospitals)

Hope you have a good pain/energy day, and I really love your style!

Hello! Indeed, I spoke about some ways to make public spaces more accessible for little people here - particularly when it comes to public washrooms. Here's some more accommodations I'd love to see!

I would love to see more information/reception desks with varying heights! This is an excellent piece of infrastructure that allows little people (and wheelchair users) full access to the counter and a place to speak to an attendant.

In the realm of public counter tops - a huge point of inaccess for me is grocery store conveyor belts. They come to about my chest, which makes loading and packing very difficult. And the "accessible" lane is no different! Plus every grocery store I've been to makes the "accessible" lane also the express lane - so while I'm buying my load of groceries, there's always a disgruntled customer behind me - I've even been denied access for having too many groceries!

The self check out is even worse - in a world where we're now being ushered to interact with these robots instead of real people, I can't reach the screen or the debit machine! So either way I need to ask for help, which completely defeats it's purpose. I would love to see a more accessible option that is lower to the ground.

A second, lower handrail on public stairs is a must! I've seen these in children's hospitals and schools, and would love them to be common place. Average handrails often land at shoulder height or higher - they provide little to no stability or safety for little people.

An access issue that often gets overlooked is the height of public seating - this includes doctor's office chairs, modern theatre seating, bar stools, booths, and office swivel chairs. The irony of a disabled person not being able to sit down is one I come across on the regular. The number of times I've showed up for an interview and not been able to sit without assistance is absurd.

Having a variety of seating options, or providing public step stools (or a combination of the two) could be easy fixes to this issue. In hospitals I am seeing a slow shift towards even lower chairs and beds since this issue is not always unique to little people - anyone who has difficulty bending, sitting, or transferring from a wheelchair has this issue. Modern design needs to account for diversity, instead of steering towards minimalism.

Step stools are of course the easiest means of making public spaces more accessible for little people, but I want to point out that they're not always the be-all-end-all solution, and can actually just be a band aid to some problems. While stools are incredibly versatile, not everyone has the ability to use them and they can pose a hazard in certain situations. In points of high traffic, built-in steps are far safer and could even be designed to fold up when not in use - they can also account for weight and wear.

Additionally, when stools are option in public, it's vital that they be easily accessed and borrowed by patrons without the need for a special request. I've said it before, "If I have to ask for help, it's not accessible". In order for stools to be a viable accommodation, they should be as freely obtained as toilet paper.

#accessibility #dwarfism #asks #dwarfism awareness #little people #disability awareness #accessibility solutions #accessibility issues #disability

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babydray777 · 1 month ago

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party girl

draco x slyth!fem summary: draco and y/n has been going in and out of their weird friendship/situationship/enemiship? they had. one night she decides to go out, secretly wishing for him to come so they can have some little fun between cups. even though he disagrees, she finds a surprise once she arrives to the common room already planning to go to bed. warnings: idk mention of marihuana and alcohol? wc: 1.1k

The heels resonated in the hallway with their specific echo.

My friend by my side, giggling and trying to keep it low as we were not supposed to be out of our common room so late at night. Theo and a Ravenclaw boy a few steps from us, speaking about something unknown to me and honestly impossible to understand in the current state of my mind.

We arrived to the little stair that lowered down to the dungeons and we stop. Hayley hugged me and the other ravenclaw boy by her side said their goodbyes.

“Don’t be a stranger, y/l/n. Gryffindor party next weekend!”

I laughed a little and we leave them to go straight away to their common room.

Theo and I started to walk down into the dungeons and the only thing I could get my mind into was the peace I was going to experiment once I got into my bed.

We had been into a little party at the Hufflepuffs, Hayley, who was a Ravenclaw, was my favorite party duo but anyone at my Slytherin friend group was in the mood for some drinks and cool music.

I was disappointed at the beginning, Pansy has led me down over the objection of not wanting to cross paths with some ravenclaws she disliked, Blaise was tired, and by far the worst, Draco was an annoying straight edge prick who decided he was too much for a stupid hufflepuff party.

But here was Theo, who would have never rejected the slight possibility of a clandestine wild night at the Hogwarts castle.

So now, after a few joints at the beginning and a few more drinks alongside the night, we were walking back to our common room, tired and drunk, charting nonsense about the funny face that the portraits made when they surprised you out at night.

“Shut it, Nott.” I said whispering between laughter once we finally entered the common room. “They are going to kick us out of school”

He replied with a little short laugh and turned to the right to leave to the boy’s dorms. “Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow y/n” He smiled a little and left.

“See you”

I walked a few steps into the common room to reach the stairs that led to the girls room. A drunk smile on my face as I remembered the jokes. I was completely into my own mind when a quick gaze to the fireplace catch me something unexpected.

The back view of a blonde head lying in the couch, he seemed to be like sleeping in a position that would make anyone cause the most annoying back pain in the morning. I debated with myself how good of a person I was cause the options ware to go and wake him or going straight to bed.

Sadly, I held pretty a deep affection for the platinum boy behind my own personal comfort, so I walked towards him.

I smiled a little as I saw him there, lying on the couch completely unconscious with his head resting on his arm. His mouth slightly open as he breathed in a calm rythm. He looked so peaceful that nobody could recognize the same Draco Malfoy that was always so tense and angry at the world around him.

I sit by his side and put my hand in his shoulder, kind of rubbing it to make him wake up. “Draco” I whispered.

A slight sound came out of his mouth, like a groan. He frowned in his sleep. “Huh?” He recovered his consciousness a little, moving in the couch as he fought to open his eyes.

“You need to go to your dorm” I whispered again

“y/n?” He took a deep breath and sit properly on the couch, with his eyes still fighting to open up completely. “You smell of alcohol” He murmured half sleep.

I smiled and rolled my eyes. God this boy couldn’t stop being annoying even when sleepwalking.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.” I put myself up off the couch and grabbed his hand to make him stood. He did it, still half sleep but walking instantly. “What were you doing on the couch? It’s three in the morning.”

“I thought you were arriving earlier, to be honest.” He replied with a raspy voice.

“Draco Malfoy waiting for me? What a gentleman!”

We arrived to the stair that led to the boys dorm and he stood there, lying on the wall as he completely opened his eyes a little more awake.

“I regretted not going to that party, I should have come with you, not Theo”

He looked at me with those piercing blue eyes. My world was spinning around me, dizzy from the wine, but his face was static and serious, I couldn’t keep my eyes away from his.

“I had a good time with Theo”

“You would have had a better time with me.” He replied.

The was he was pinning his eyes at me made me crumble. He was not joking and at the same time fighting for not crumbling down the wall and sleep on the floor.

“Come on, you are tired. Go to bed.” I murmured and smiled a bit. Before leaving I got closer and put a little kiss on his cheek.

Draco seemed like being put out of a dream as how he recompose himself. I turned around to walk to my dorm.

Before I made a single step, I felt something grabbing my wrist, his hand was pinning it and made me turn around.

“Wait” He murmured. From looking straight at me he suddenly turned his gaze to the floor, I was expecting him to continue as my heart raced in my chest. His grab was secure and firm though his attitude was shy and cute, debating with himself whether to speak or not, it made me appreciate him a lot more in the course of a second. “Want to sleep with me tonight?” He finally let out. “I mean… I don’t want to do anything just… Maybe just cuddle. I thought I could ask you that so I waited reading in the couch but I didn’t know you would come so late and I fell sleep but…”

“Okay, okay.” I cut him with a smile. His anxious effort to explain would have lasted hours otherwise and it was enough humbling for Draco Malfoy that night. “I accept your cuddle proposal, Malfoy. You just don’t need to sacrifice your back next time.” “Oh shut up, y/l/n.” He recomposed himself into his own character and now grabbed my hand. “Come on, follow me.”

#draco x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy au #draco malfoy boyfriend #slytherin au #slytherin #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy one shot #draco fanfiction #theodore nott #harry potter headcanon #draco malfoy headcanon #hogwarts au #hogwarts houses #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter au #hogwarts legacy #slytherin boys

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