#ive been sick this week from allergies

[wylansworkshop]

Well fuck

[spacejammie-eimmajecaps]

This has not been my week

[cerealmonster15]

truly part of why most things i show or whatever r sketchy doodles i did in one sitting is that it is always a race against the clock when im doing something before The Evil takes over and eats me. i get stressed about if i try to actually make something pretty bc i know i cant lol, and if i take too long [staring nervously at the google docs i keep opening and closing] on a fic it's harder to finish bc i start Thinking about it too much and if it's any good or if it's cringe or What Ever

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Now that everyone at work is getting covid people are FINALLY wearing masks

I think it might be a lil late for that guys

[ghostmaldo]

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ RE3 Remake: Taking care of Sick Jill and Carlos (Seperate) with GN!Reader~General head cannons 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

I am barely recovering from being sick from a week long cold and this sort of just manifested into my head and I thought, why not? Less evil in this Resident.

No warning, just natural sickness and fluuuuff

I didn’t really proof read this… my bad

Ask box open 💙

Play list I listened to while writing this—> Best of Resident Evil on Spotify ^^

~Maldo

❀ Jill Valentine ❀

~So, I picture SO and Jill have been living together for sometime in their shared apartment. It started with a slight sneezing fit throughout the day. Nothing a bit of allergy medicine couldn’t fix. However, by the end of the day SO would notice shes doing clearing of her throat more often and ask her about it. She’d simply reply with: “My throats just a little dry.”

~However, by the next morning Jills throat is completely raw, her nose is stuffed up, body aches, chill. Mad suffering. She insists she can walk it off but with some firm convincing from SO she’s politely shoved back into bed while they run to the nearest store to get her some medicine and things that are easy on the stomach. Jill sleeps the entire time their gone and only stirs agains when she hears the front door open. An instinct of hers.

~SO comes back with the best of medicine, sports drinks in her favorite flavor and of course some chicken noodle soup in the shape of stars. Upon seeing the stars printed on the front label she laughs (In a sickly way) “Stars… really?” SO nods and claims it would help her feel better.

~Having a warm bowl of soup and medicine admisintered by SO. Jill melts into the blankets and knocks out for the next several hours. She’s incredibly touched by her SO checking in on her every once and awhile. She’s always slightly aware when they enter their shared bed room, placing their slightly cold hand on her forehead or cheek to check for her temperature. But she keeps her eyes closed and allowed them to make her comfortable. It’s… a nice feeling for her.

~A real swooning moment would be when SO exits the room again. Gently closing the door behind them as to not disturb a resting Jill Valentine.

~When Jills feeling up to it. SO would help them into a warm bubble bath to help with the congestion. Afterwards, SO can suggest rubbing Vix on her chest to further help with the snuffles.

~A repeat of this cycle and after a few days. Jill starts to feel good as new. On the first day shes feeling much better but still a little groggy. Shell crawl out of bed with a blanket and find SO. Who’s currently on the couch doing one of their own activities quietly, though they are happy to see Jill out of bed. Together they take a nap with the sun rays warming them from the window. It’s the final medicine dose Jill needs to be back at 100%.

~Snuggles and forehead kisses with Jill make Maldo’s heart melt

“Thank you for taking care of me for the last few days. Ive been so use to taking care of myself I forgot what it was like to be dotted on.”

~Que a warm embrace and a tender kiss

❀ Carlos Oliveira ❀

~Carlos makes it everyone’s problem that his sick and by everyone I mean his SO. While his groaning and tossing and turning in his bed. SO finally comes to check up on him and his just laying there with these big merciful doe eyes. Before he has a chance to say anything, his body send him into a coughing fit that has him curling back into bed.

~SO: “I told you you were getting sick-“

~Pillow thrown at them from the man baby.

~Anyhow, SO proceeded to find some medicine in their apartments cabinet and a thermometer to take his temperature along with a cold rag. Poor guy did look really pale and clammy. If Carlos does have a fever, SO has to be prepared to wrestle the blankets off of him as his shivering from said fever.

“Carlos you have a fever!”

“I’m coooold!”

~Finding a can of chicken soup with stars in the kitchen. SO leaves Carlos with a movie running in their shared bedroom while they warm up the soup on the stove for him. As they read the medicine has to be taken with food or he’ll be sick and with an upset stomach-

~When he sees the bowl of soup he scowls slightly. “Haha very funny…. Staaars (S/O)” Listen I thought it was funny

~Will not let his SO leave his side. After the medicine starts to make him drowsy he literally pulls SO into bed with him and snuggles against them. And looordy is he a heater even without his blankets. Carlos claims he’ll only get better if he has his beloved next to him the entire time. With a sigh, SO relents, but faces away from him as the little spoon as a precaution to avoid getting sick themselves.

~Only takes about a day or two to recover and is ready to go back out into the world. As a token of his appreciation for dealing with him. Carlos takes SO out for dinner at their favorite restaurant.

“Hey, thanks for the last few days. I was a brat… but I appreciate you for taking care of me.”

~Que forehead kiss and Carlos wrapping an arm around their shoulders and pulling them in closer.

[gallusrostromegalus]

I'm glad to hear that Kaname protected Momo from the worst of Aizen's manipulations. Does she ever find out about his efforts, or does that stay a secret?

Post-Aizen-Fight, Kaname is in the hospital recovering from General Befuckening, and needs Reiatsu transfers to finish purging The Curse from his system and it's Hitsugaya's turn.

*****

The boy doesn't actually say anything for a long time after Unohana finishes connecting the IVs. It's alright. He's still exhausted, and there really isn't that much to say about what happened that hasn't been gone over and over and over, in debriefings and staff meetings and the distant sound of tears Tousen can hear coming from Lieutenant Hinamori's room. Gradually though, Lieutenant Hitsugaya's silence grows cold and sharp and restless, a winter gale banging against a window that won't quite latch right.

"-Out with it." Kaname sighs, opening his eyes and not frowning at the ceiling. "If you keep sulking like this I'm going to get frostbite and Unohana-sama will have both our hides for it."

Toshiro startles, coughs a bit like he's about to deny it, but collects himself and states his problem with magnificent succinctness.

"Momo." he says, voice almost violent in it's neutrality.

"Ah." Kaname nods. "I did what I could, but I know that was far from enough. I am sorry."

Hitsugaya is quiet, considering his words. "...What did you DO, actually?" he eventually asks.

Kaname blinks in surprise. "Huh. I thought Hisagi-san would have noticed when he did the audit of all my paperwork. I was genuinely hopeful you were going to spot it before Aizen could make his move with how much Momo complained..." he muttered, slightly puzzled.

"Spotted what?" Toshiro grumbled.

"You have undoubtedly been subject to the ongoing saga of the Rice-Farm-Subsidy Fraud case that Lieutenant Hinamori has been investigating since her promotion to lieutenancy?" Kaname prompted.

"Yeah, yeah, the one that's got her haring off to some backwater district or getting lost in the stacks at the archives for days on end or-" Hitsugaya graoned, then stopped. "...the one that had her constantly traveling away from the division, or doing extended research without Aizen's help."

"He used to get terrible motion sickness from trains or portals, you know." Kaname smiled, sitting up a bit. "-and a wretched allergy to paper-dust. Part of the reason he made me do all his fucking lab work, I imagine. but it seemed a good way to keep Miss Hinamori outside his sphere of influence at least for a few weeks at a time. Do I still have water in my glass?"

"...you MADE IT UP?" Hitsugaya yelped.

"I did no such thing. There is an extensive conspiracy between the various provincial leaders and mid-district governors to defraud the Central Government of subsidies for rice farms that frankly, do not exist, while also hiding the existence of taxable villages, resulting in invisible granaries used to fund private armies and other villiany-" he explained, sitting up properly and groping for the end-table where his water theoretically was. "-I just made sure Miss Hinamori had enough information to know where to look for the evidence of said conspiracy, and occasionally... lightly interfered with granaries in the middle districts to make sure more visible evidence came to light for her to keep the investigation open and moving in a timely manner. Lieutenant, if I may ask for your help-"

There was a rustle of cloth as Hitsugaya shook himself, grabbing the pitcher and refilling Kaname's glass, handing it to the frail man.

"Thank you." Kaname took a drink, handing the glass back to Toshiro to set down. "-I imagine the investigation will go much faster and with fewer extended trips to the rukongai now that I'm not cursed and can freely discuss the taxation and census records Aizen had covered in his illusion to hide his experiments." he explained. "...But doing it the long way has allowed Miss Hinamori to build a very complete and entirely legitimate case. She's an exceptional forensic investigator."

"...HOW?" Hitsugaya gaped. "The curse- it's not like you could talk to her, or send her messages- and if you could, it'd mess with the legitimacy of the case to have an anonymous tipster?"

"I had to...sort of gently suggest the names and locations to her in such fashion that her subconscious would make the connection between those terms and the case. Fortunately, in addition to being a certifiable genius, Miss Hinamori is also a master of the Lingual Arts."

"...Sir, I don't think Hinamori is that kind of girl." Toshiro mumbled, and Kaname could almost hear his full-face blush.

"You're thinking of Zaraki-Taicho, who is an entirely different kind of cunning linguist." Momo announced from the door. "-but you don't know everything about me Toshiro." She teased, coming in the room and climbing onto the bed beside Kaname, unfolding and re-folding that week's newspaper. "Lieutenant Sasakibe took over the crossword in your absence, and I think he may still be a bit upset with you."

"Ah." Kaname winced.

"What?" Repeated Toshiro, thoroughly lost.

"You remember that Tousen-taicho is the Editor-In-Chief of the Seireitei Newsletter, right?" She asked Hitsugaya, who failed to respond in a fashion that suggested that he did not, in fact, know that. "-Anyway, sometimes he writes more or less for the paper depending on that week's news, but without fail, he also designs the crossword- the most fiendishly difficult one in any of the newspapers, Sir." She explained, taking out a pen and tapping the partially-finished lexical puzzle she'd been working on.

"I try." Kaname smiled, looking just a bit genuinely smug.

"You largely succeed. I didn't actually make the connection between your five downs and the rice subsidy investigation until i tried doing Sasakibe's substitute puzzle this morning. I think he may have made the same connection, because 5 down today is 11 letters, starts with "P" and the clue is 'Degenerate Justice'."

"...Prevaricate." Kaname hissed with imagined pain at the likely wrath of the Chief Lieutenant. "Oh dear. Do you think a written apology is in order?"

"It's Sasakibe-san, it's just as likely to be his idea of an apology." Momo shrugged, filling in the word.

"...for those of us that are better at Sudoku?" Hitsugaya glared.

"Tousen-Taicho was putting clues about where the next bit of evidence I needed for the Rice Subsidies case in the Crossword because he knew I did it every week." Momo explained. "The clue was always in the fifth column down, which is a structurally important one in crosswords- you little shit, I even got on your case last year about how you always used locations for your 5 Downs and I STILL didn't make the connection!" She realized, rolling up the paper and affectionately swatting him over the head.

"Entirely deserved, but you have my word that was as much as I could do to help you, and that you have my full resources available to you now." Kaname smiled.

"I have entirely too many words from you-" Momo sighed with exasperation before putting the paper down and laying down beside him, hugging his chest. "-But I believe you. There's- I've been finding all sorts of things- people I forgot, places I'd been before and couldn't remember- huge sections of my LIFE! that his Illusion just... vanished."

She hugged Kaname's chest. "-I can't imagine what you went through."

"I hope you never will." he sighed, returning her embrace and for a moment, Hitsugaya felt even more outside the conversation- this was a secret grief, but the burden lightened by finally being able to share it. "...Did Sasakibe Key any clues to 5 Down? He might have more to say." Kaname asked, letting go and Momo sat up, frowning at the paper.

"Key?" Asked Toshiro, pleased to be talking about anything else.

"Sometimes one word is a hint to some of the next words, usually the ones that originate from it, um- Yeah, three words. Four letters, second letter 'i', clue is "Astronomical Favor"; Three letters, middle letter 'a', clue is "German Opera, 1874" ; and the last one is four letters, Second letter 'e', clue is "Truth's Abode". Momo read off.

All three of them stared (or pointed their faces) blankly at each other for a moment.

"...Yeah I'm gonna stick to the Sudoku." Nodded Hitsugaya.

[edgessunflower]

Mold

Pairing: Bayley x Fem reader

Description: Bayley gets worried when she finds out that your sick from your apartment being invested with mold

"God baby why didn't you tell me?" you had gone to the hospital after being sick for the past two weeks with what you thought was a fever or food poisoning. However, it was when you noticed dark spots in your closet and near your washing machine that made you worried as you realized that it was mold that had been growing in your apartment which made your heart stop as you immediately called your mom who knew you had been sick and knew what mold especially black mold could do when someone has been exposed to it for a certain amount of time especially if they have an allergy to it, you went straight to the hospital while trying to call your girlfriend Bayley leading to you sending a voicemail as you parked and went in right before you began wheezing and coughing uncontrollably. After tons of testing and everyone managing to get your breathing under control, you felt relief and scared finding out that you had a severe allergy to black mold which started off as a small bug before it grew worse leading to your dizziness, nausea, wheezing, and the bad coughing spell which almost made your lungs collapse from the lack of oxygen while you call your mom who stays by your side when your phone rings off the hook as you get more tests and an IV drip until bayley shoots into the room like a rocket before pulling you into a tight hug, "I was so worried when i heard your voicemail, god baby why didn't you tell me about the mold?" she listens as you explain that you had discovered the mold earlier when you opened your closet to grab your shoes to run errands until you saw the mold on the wall and went to the hospital. As soon as you were released from the hospital two days later, you throw away your things that were next to the mold and pack up before moving in with bayley as you get better and learn how to with your newly diagnosed asthma over the next few months as the two of you fall into a domestic living routine which was the best thing to happen after your allergic reaction and hospital stay, "Hey baby" you walk out of the laundry when bayley hands you a small cake that said "I'll fight mold for you, will you mold with me and marry me?" you laugh and tear up before the two of you share a kiss and announce the news of your engagement which earned comments and a phone call from Sasha only for the two of you to laugh as soon as you answer the phone, "Really Pamela you had to use the mold allergy for the proposal?".

[sixhours]

Chapter 3 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence

Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

May 2024 Jackson, Wyoming

“Help!”

You’ve been in Jackson for three weeks. It’s late, not quite 3 a.m., and you’re dozing in your office when you hear a voice from the lobby. A man bursts through the swinging doors into the back of the clinic holding a young girl in his arms, frantically looking around.

The night nurse, Shiela, is coming down the hall to see to the commotion, but you wave her away.

“I’ve got it. Right here,” you tell the man, gesturing to the nearest exam room.

“She passed out,” he says, desperation threaded through a gravelly Texas baritone as he lays the girl down in a hospital bed. “She’s been sick.”

“You the father?” you ask, checking the pulse point at the girl’s wrist where her heartbeat flutters. Her skin is feverish, eyes ringed with dark circles, lips cracked. You’d put her at 12 or 13, but she’s small, thin.

“I’m, uh–yeah,” the man says. “She started, uh, throwin’ up–”

“Any allergies?”

He shakes his head. “I dunno–”

“When did this start?”

“Three, four days ago, maybe. It was just a cough and a fever, she stayed home from school–”

“Has she been able to keep liquids down?”

“Not since last night.”

“She’s probably dehydrated,” you start to pull up the girl’s sleeve. “I’m going to place an IV so we can get some fluids–”

You stop short. The bite scar on the girl’s forearm is ugly and swollen, a telltale cordyceps rash snaking its way to the crook of her elbow.

Oh, no.

Your head snaps up to meet the man’s eyes, and it takes him a moment to register what you’ve seen. You’re reaching for the cordyceps monitor in the cabinet, the little device that will confirm the presence of infection, when he levels a handgun at your face.

“Don’t.”

You let out a soft huff, hands slowly moving up.

“She’s infected,” you say. “And you can’t have a gun in here. How did you–”

“She’s not.”

“The bite–”

“It’s a burn scar,” he growls, reaching over to tug at the sleeve of the girl’s shirt, covering the evidence. “She’s not infected. Use the other arm.”

“Joel?” the girl stirs, and the gun falters, his gaze immediately on his daughter. You reach for the detector again.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growls, his attention snapping back to you.

“Joel,” the girl’s voice is more insistent now as she tries to sit up. “Joel, you asshole–”

His eyes dart between you and the girl. “Use. The other. Arm,” he bites out. 

You swallow hard, weighing your options. You think you could overpower him; he looks strong, but there’s a coldness in his eyes that tells you he’s not fully there . And you don’t want to be stuck in this tiny exam room when the girl inevitably turns…

“Fine,” you snap. “Fine. I’ll use the other arm.”

He nods once, not lowering the gun.

You back away, keeping your eyes trained on him as you make a show of pulling supplies from the cabinets, taking your time, trying to figure out how to proceed in a way that won’t get you shot or bitten. You pull up the girl’s other sleeve with shaking fingers and the man–Joel–seems to relax a fraction.

“What’s your name, kid?” you ask.

She looks at Joel as though asking for permission, then down at her arm as you insert the IV, watching with fascination as the needle penetrates the skin.

“S’Ellie,” she says, coughing roughly.

“Hi, Ellie,” you say, forcing a smile through gritted teeth. “I’m going to get this saline drip set up, I’m going to take your temperature, then I’m going to take a sample of your blood. And hopefully, your dad here won’t shoot me.”

The girl shakes her head. “S’like this with everyone.”

Joel’s jaw twitches and he shoots a glare at the girl, exasperation and worry in the deep-set lines of his forehead.

“How old are you, Ellie?”

“Fifteen.”

“Any recent injuries? Blood loss? Open up,” you say, inserting the end of a mercury thermometer. “Hold that under your tongue.”

The girl shakes her head, mumbling around the glass stick in her mouth. “M’ just tired.”

“That’s fine,” you say. “You can lay back, close your eyes. I’m almost done.”

Joel’s eyes are trained on you, watching your every move as you continue examining the girl, checking her lymph nodes, her breathing, asking her to swallow, pricking her finger to get a blood sample. You avoid her right arm, on high alert for any sudden movements, the twitching that signals the onset of infection, but Ellie remains still and listless. Joel is still holding the gun, but at least it’s no longer pointed at your head.

“You said this started last night?”

He gives a single tense nod.

“She’s in school, right?”

“Yeah…so?”

“Well, provided you’re telling the truth, and that scar isn’t what it looks like,” you say, biting out the words through gritted teeth, “I think she has the flu.”

Joel blinks. “The flu?”

“It’s early in the season, but it's going around. And the kids are especially good at spreading it.”

Joel’s shoulders sag; he finally lowers the gun to his side.

“This isn’t something to mess with,” you continue, moving to the sink, snapping off your gloves in irritation. “It’s not like before when we had vaccines. People die from the flu. Especially the most vulnerable, and she’s underweight, possibly anemic. I’d like to keep her overnight–”

“No,” he cuts you off. “No, she stays with me.”

“You can stay, too,” you say slowly, watching the panic in his face. He’s gone somewhere else in his mind, shadows moving behind his eyes. “But I want to get her hydrated and make sure this doesn’t progress to a secondary infection like pneumonia.”

He looks to Ellie, then to you, then back to Ellie. You watch his Adam’s apple bob under the scruff of his beard.

“Alright,” he says finally. “Fine. She can stay.”

You nod, turning to leave. “I’m going to run this to the lab, then I’ll have a nurse come in with–”

His hand is on your arm, gripping it, wheeling you around. “You’re not going to tell anyone…about the scar,” he says through gritted teeth. “Got that?”

You exhale sharply, narrowly resisting the urge to haul off and punch him. “Let go of me.”

“Say it,” he says.

“I’m not…going to tell…anyone,” you repeat, enunciating as though to a small child. Then, as a petulant afterthought: “But put the gun away, for god’s sake. You’ll scare my staff.”

He considers you, his grip loosening, receding. He tucks the gun into the back of his jeans.

“Alright. Go.”

~*~

“I’ve got a live one in exam room two. Think it’s the flu again. I just need last names–Joel and Ellie?”

“That’s the Millers,” Shiela says.

“Right, right. She’s staying the night, I want to keep an eye on her.” You swallow, turning away, hoping she doesn’t see the tremor in your hands. “Look, Shel, why don’t you go home? It’s not busy, I can take the rest of the night shift.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I have the walkie if I run into trouble. Go home,” you say, smiling in a way you hope is convincing enough. It must be, because she shrugs and packs up her bag.

When Shiela is gone, you lock the clinic’s front and rear entrances so no one else can get in. Then you retreat to your office, intent on finding the girl’s medical records, but there’s no Ellie Miller in the filing cabinet. On a hunch, you sift through the rest of the folders by first name and find the only Ellie in town–an Ellie Williams.

After a considered pause, you pull Joel Miller’s file, too.

You take them to your desk and spread them in front of you, all the while listening for sounds from down the hall.

Ellie Williams. 14 female. DOB: ??/??/2009. Intake: 12/16/2023.

Joel Miller. 56 male. DOB: 9/26/1967. Intake: 12/16/2023.

They came in the same day, so you’ve got the right kid. The forms are signed by Maria Miller, who you know is on the Jackson council.

A sister, maybe?

But there’s no other data, no medical history. Nothing helpful.

You toss the folders on your desk and head to the supply closet to grab blankets, Tylenol, and a paper cup of water. You hesitate over the surgical supplies, then tuck a scalpel in your pocket. It’s no match for a gun, but if the girl turns while you’re tending to her, you might stand a chance at making it out alive if you have a weapon.

Joel is pacing when you return. He looks at you nervously as you place the blankets at the foot of the bed, and the Tylenol on the counter.

“I sent the night nurse home,” you say quietly. “No one will be in until six.”

This seems to relax him a bit, enough that he finally takes a seat, deflating into the chair next to Ellie’s bed. His hands are shaking.

Ellie wakes up enough to swallow the Tylenol with a sip of water, then rolls over and curls on her side with a soft groan and a raspy cough. Joel is so intent on watching his daughter that he barely acknowledges you when you slip out of the room.

You sit stiff and upright on the cot in your office, fingering the scalpel in your pocket and waiting for the inevitable sound of infection from across the hall.

It doesn’t come.

~*~

They’re sleeping when you peek in on them over the next few hours. Joel’s lanky body is twisted awkwardly in the chair, jacket over his shoulders, his head resting on the bed at her side. Her right hand curls loosely in his hair.

By morning, the girl’s fever has broken, her breathing deep and even. Joel remains asleep at her side, snoring lightly.

You pause in the doorway, wondering if you should try to check the girl’s arm for signs of progression, but decide against it; Joel’s eyes flutter open as you reach to take her pulse. Your hand stops in mid-air, hovering over her wrist, half expecting him to reach for his gun, but he only blinks and raises his head, swiping a broad palm across his scruffy face.

“Just checking in,” you murmur. Ellie’s heartbeat is strong under your fingers, her lungs sound clearer. “She looks better.”

He takes this in, nods.

“I think you can go home when she wakes up,” you say, keeping your voice low. “We’ll give her another dose of Tylenol to keep the fever down, and you both need to isolate for at least a week…that means you, her, and anyone else in your household.”

“S’just us,” he says flatly.

“Okay. The staff will let the cafeteria know you’ll need meals delivered for a bit. If you start to feel sick–”

“I’m fine.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes. “Fine. But if you do feel sick and you have to go out, wear one of these,” you say, pulling two white face masks from your pocket.

“K,” he says, eyes drifting back to Ellie’s sleeping form. When he speaks, his voice is frayed. “So she’s gonna be alright? No pneumonia?”

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “Her lungs sound clear, but if the cough gets worse, bring her back in right away. And feed her. She’s borderline anemic. She needs to eat.”

He scowls, muttering at the floor. “She eats plenty.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “It’s not uncommon for kids her age to struggle with disordered–”

“She’s fine,” he cuts you off. “I’ll make sure she eats. Anything else?”

His eyes bore into yours like a challenge, a threat.

“If she gets sick, and I mean… sick ,” you say in a low voice, emphasizing the word until it’s clear you’re not talking about the flu. “I will make sure every single council member knows who brought it in. Understand?”

He considers you for a moment, then nods slowly. “I heard you.”

“Good,” you say, clipped. “One of the nurses can check you out when you’re ready. Maybe don’t hold them at gunpoint.”

[ohgodimafraud]

td//iapt - lu//cifer

my age is invalid

hi i really like this neet and i like that he has so much canon snz. ive had this in my drafts for like over a month but i got nothin better to do so here i hope u enjoy

Just when Urushihara thought he was in the clear from horrific sinus symptoms, his body firmly corrected him first thing in the morning. Apparently the more-than-week-long allergy attack he’d endured—courtesy of the kitten Maou had brought home—hadn’t been enough suffering for him. The fact that the headache accompanying the dull aching in his sinuses had come on together full force indicated this was something different. Something new, yet tauntingly familiar. 

Even with the little evidence he’d gone off, he’d done a double take when he’d gotten up to stock the closet with snacks and to bring the computer in to make sure nobody had decided to bring another cat in from the cold. Upon further inspection, nothing seemed suspicious and he remembered they’d all been in somewhat early for the night. Yep, he’s sick. 

After many failed sleeping attempts, Urushihara had to admit to himself that he’s stuck awake for the time being. The bottled tea tasted especially sweet in his mouth as it washed away the grime from breathing exclusively through it and throughout the hour he’d spent grieving his inability to sleep. He’d done his best to stay quiet enough to convince everyone outside of the closet of otherwise, but it’s starting to hurt to muffle his coughs into his sleeve. And even worse is—

“hGNxnt!” 

—Pinching his nose shut to sneeze. After the amount of grief everyone had given him for his allergy attack, he’s not looking forward to his roommates and neighbor taking notice of this too. They’re gonna be pissed. The computer screen went black as he opened a new tab and he gave himself a wry look before typing in his next search. 

This sucks; he can’t even enjoy the rabbit hole dive on The Sims he’d started on the computer when playing the actual game had become too much of a struggle (stupid overheating computer). His tired eyes trudged on deep into the Fridge Logic section of the TV Tropes page as he tried to bore himself back to sleep. Maybe he’d feel better if he ordered something? 

Oh no.

“Hihh…” The tickle in his nose had become fierce from being denied its full resolution. “Nnh…hh…h-ngxht!” 

And now he’s gone and made it worse. 

“hh-....hihhtschh’iuhhh! --ahkSHhh’iuh!” he sneezed a little too freely against the hand he’d thrown up in front of his face too late. Damnit. Maybe Ashiya won’t notice. Goosebumps prickle across his skin and create art with the speckles of spray. “hh- hhyhh...hihh! ehhdtSChh’hiehh!” 

What had started as a dull ache in his throat this morning, has evolved into a monstrous omnipresent itch always creeping deeper into his sinuses; each sneeze counterintuitively only seems to make the desperation to sneeze again worse. Time to look something else up. He sneezes again and forces a few miserable sniffles to avoid letting any of the mess that’s threatening to escape to do just that. He’s genuinely wondering if Ashiya would kill him for wiping his nose on his sleeve, but he’s starting to run low on options; he’d depleted their tissue supply down to nothing last week, and he knows his roommates were already pissed at him from his most recent purchases to want to approve any additional expenses. 

“Must you continue these theatrics?” Ashiya’s voice chimed in from outside the closet, fist rapping on the door. Speak of the devil…Or in this case Alciel.  “Good morning. Oh, no. That’s not right, it’s not morning—it’s two PM.”

Urushihara sniffled and sneezed loudly again before giving a petulant greeting. “Hell-fucki’gg-o to you too.”

“I vacuumed thoroughly already and I’ve no plans to do so again,” Ashiya said with a scowl in reference to his efforts in removing all the cat dander. In all fairness, he had vacuumed and dusted and disinfected with his usual diligence. “Time to get up. You can’t keep avoiding your chores like the plague.”

“hehtk’SCHhhu!” Urushihara answered. He hadn’t heard half of what Ashiya said while his breath was hitching. “Greadt choice of words, dude.” He rolls his eyes. “I thingk I’mb sigck.”

Ashiya opened the door and sighed, forehead scrunching as if he’s the one with a headache. “You’re kidding.”

“Yeah, I’mb ju-juhh—” He sniffled again, fighting for his life to keep his nose from running whilst trying to keep next breath from snagging and triggering another onslaught of sneezing. Unfortunately, sneezing again is inevitable and has to pick between the glorious options of letting his nose run or sacrificing the shirt or the thin blanket wrapped tightly around himself. “Hehh…” He cups the blanket over his face before letting out a boisterous sneeze. “Jusdt sdneezi’gg for the lullz.”

“You can not be sick, you barely leave the closet, never mind the apartment! And, hey, that blanket was just—” 

“HEHhhkshh! Mbaybe I’mb allergic to you thend.” 

“Ugh!” Ashya takes a step back. “I think you sneezed on the blanket and the computer at the same time. How?”

“Doh one else uses the combputer addyway,” Urushihara said awkwardly, scrubbing his nose with the back of his hand. As an afterthought, he wiped the laptop screen he’d evidently misted with the hem of his shirt and pretended not to notice the dagger-like glare Ashiya’s eyes had been pushing into him. 

Ashiya sighed and walked away and returned with a three-ply mask. “Here, at least attempt to not spread your germs everywhere. His Highness does not receive much in terms of sick leave, and as you know, the household budget is stretched thinly enough as it is.”

“Thangk you for your concerned. I’ll jusdt stay in here,” he said sarcastically as he fixed the loops of the mask over his ears. He sniffled thickly and pointedly added, “You’re probably bedtter off leavi’gg the door closed.” 

Urushihara had dismissed him, but Ashiya continued to stand there in some form of disbelief, so back on his ears went his headphones. He knew the soundproof ones would  be worth it. He easily returned his full attention to his search: Cold, flu, allergies, sinusitis. Hm.

Ahsiya pulled the headphones off his head. “If you were really trying to get better, you’d be resting, not rotting over your computer.”

“It’s releveddt research, Bo’b.” Urushihara said, not moving his tired eyes from the screen. “And be careful with these, they were expendsive.”

“How expensive?” 

“Mbore expend’sive if you break themb and we have to order an’dother pair.” After skimming a few articles, he finds a website with a seemingly useful tool that'll hopefully bring him one step closer to figuring out how to get rid of this world’s ailments.

“You’re lucky I don’t have the internet disconnected. What’s that?”

Uriushihara was too fixated on using the WebMD Symptom Checker to hear what he said. It was not off to the best start. “Oh, not even my age is valid, huh.” 

“What?...And who is this Bob?”

“What?”

“You said you were researching Bob?” 

Urushihara’s head spun for a moment. What the fuck? His head felt like cotton as he recalled their exchange. Idiot. “Mbo’bb,” He attempted to amend. It didn’t help the confusion. He sniffled—or at least tried to—a few times and groaned. “Emb Oh Emmmmb. Ugh. Forget idt.” 

“How can you have a runny nose and congestion?”

Whether that was in reference to the list of symptoms or the pathetic display, Urushihara didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. Another thing this mask is good for is hiding the flush that just crossed his cheeks from the mix of concern and disgust written all over Ashiya’s face. “The hell if I n’dow.” He adds “headache” to the list and casts a glare at the man who’s hanging over him like a damn tree. 

“Hheh…h-” He has to stop searching as his nose starts to run again and drags the creeping tickle from the back of his nose forward. At least he’s already wearing a mask, he supposed. It gives him the maximum amount of time to try reading without the nuisance of having to turn away from the screen. “h-huhh…EhhdzsSCHhh’iyuhh! Guhh…” He sniffled and shook his head as the relief from the sneeze was lost to the pounding in his head.

“Don't forget sneezing,” Ashiya reminded him with an eye roll. 

“Yeah yeah. Hilarious.”

“Really chills? Do you have a fever?”

“Dude, I dunndo we don’dt have a—” Urushihara didn’t get the chance to horrifically pronounce the word “thermometer” before Ashiya’s palm came flying at his forehead like he was aiming to smash a mosquito into his skull. He shrinks back into himself like a frightened turtle at the unwanted human contact. “T-Too close…”

“Hm. Best put fever down too.”

Urushihara shrugged, not risking another breath, never mind attempting to make another thanks, Mom type of remark, with how precarious his grip on the next sneeze threatening to escape is. It’s proven futile when he inevitably has to breathe.

“ndtKSH! IHHSHHhu! Guhh…” The inside of his mask felt particularly disgusting after that set of sneezes. He grimaced and clicked around a bit more before continuing to the results. They both pretend to not hear the crackling in Urushihara’s sinuses joining in the cadence of the clicking and typing.

“You’d think someone so small wouldn’t be able to sneeze so loudly,” Ashiya mused. 

“Ugh, dude ah-hehhH- hhh…f-fucgk off.” Urushihara paused to steady his breathing to avoid a repeat performance. He cleared his throat indignantly, bang conveniently shifting to cover more of his face. His hair along with his mask have effectively covered a good 75% of it. “I guess it’s a cold or flu. Dunndo.”

He clicked back and forth to compare while Ashiya continued to hover. “Either way, it looks like rest is the best remedy.” And with that, he confiscated the laptop and held it out of Urushihara’s reach. 

“H-hey! What th-the heh…hh-hHYSCHh’iew!” 

Slam.

The sound of aerosol spray followed, and then the pungent scent of disinfectant, and then another loud sneezing fit. It’s only when Urushihara  has resigned himself to trying to sleep again that there’s more knocking—this time at the front door. Ashiya answered the door to a stern-looking Suzuno.

“Tell me you didn’t bring another stray in,” she commanded, looking past him. 

“What?” 

“Do not lie.” Suzuno peeked in, looking around, perhaps hopeful that there really is a cat in the room. She shook her head and glared at Alciel. “I can hear Lucifer sneezing from next door.”

“I’ll have you know, I did no such—”

“Is that poison?”

“It’s Lysol!”

When the bickering seemed like it wasn’t going to resolve itself fast enough, Urushihara sighed and put his mask back on before opening the closet door. “N’dot allergies. I’mb sick.” he said miserably before slamming the door again. 

“He’s a bit cranky because he exceeded his screen time for the day.”

“Screw you.” The voice crack that accompanied the phrase and the chesty cough that followed stripped him of what little remaining NEET pride he retained after Ashiya had talked about him like he’s Alas Ramus’ age.

“If you don’t mind, he needs to nap.”

***

Maou came home with tissues. He, too, had been kept up by Urushihara’s sporadic coughing and sneezing; the closet door could only muffle so much, and Urushihara wasn’t exactly one to ail quietly. Eventually they’d just put white noise videos on the laptop to act as a buffer for all of the noise.

He yawned and announced his arrival, quietly in case Urushihara was actually sleeping. (And if that’s the case, he’d take advantage of the peace and enjoy a nap.) “Hey, Ashiya. Look, free tissues? Isn’t Japan great?”

“Oh?” Ashiya’s face lit up at the word free. 

“And when I mentioned my roommate was sick, she gave me a whole handful,” Maou whispered excitedly.

“Excellent, Sire!” Ashiya praised, holding a few packets of pocket tissues. He sighs.“Though at the rate he’s going, we’ll be out by tomorrow. Again.”

Maou pointed at the closet. “Is he…?”

“I don’t know.” Ashiya shrugged and frowned. He lowered his voice. “He finally went to sleep an hour ago, and he still had a fever.”

“Still?” Maou frowned. “Chi said he should see a doctor if it lasts more than three days.”

“I’ll make sure it does not come to that.” Somehow, Urushihara was the only one of the trio to have not landed himself in the hospital, and it’d be best to keep it that way. Ashiya’s brow furrowed at the risks involved with the situation. Even beyond the risks to the budget.

“It should be okay, fevers are pretty common,” Maou smiles. Lightly he added, “Besides, all he ever does is rest.” 

“hyHEH’gkSChh!” The hoarse noise was muffled by the closet, but they were standing close enough that they could hear the familiar sound of Urushihara’s sneeze.

“Could you guys ligke stop talk’igg about mbe?” he complained, snuffling noisly.

“Chi says that’s just a superstition.”

“Seriously? Thatd’s like our whole thi’gg.” 

They shared a moment of silence. 

“How are you feelin’, man?” Maou asked, changing the subject. Urushihara coughed. “Not great, huh?”

“Are you gonnda give mbe a tissue or are you just gonnda stare at me?” 

“Watch your tongue and be grateful, Lucifer!”

“Here,” Maou said, handing him a few packs. 

***

“Here. The pharmacist told me this is one of the most commonly used cold medicines.” Suzuno passed the bag over to Ashiya. As Ashiya bent to thank her, she interrupts, “Do not mistake this as an act of kindness, I am merely tired of being kept up all night.”

“heh’GKSCHh’hiuhh!” 

“I can’t thank you enough,” Ashiya said with a slight bow. He rapped on the closet door with the backs of his knuckles. “Urushihara, come take your medicine.”

“There’s something else for you, Lucifer,” Suzuno said as the closet door creaked open. She reached into the pocket of her kimono and revealed a folded piece of paper and held it out to him. “It’s from Alas Ramus, apparently she’s worried about you.” 

Urushihara opened it to reveal a card drawn by the kid. He’s pretty sure the two blobs in the corner were meant to be them together, and scrawled over a heart were the words git well sun looshifa. “W-well, mbake sure you tell her I’mb not dyi’gg or anddythi’gg!!” he protested, eyes prickling with tears. He clears his throat and carefully folds the card and tucks it away into one of the nooks in the closet, and ignores the proud smile on Maou’s face as he takes the most disgusting swallow of his life.

“Don’t grimace like that, you’re older than everyone in the room put together,” Suzuno scolded. 

“Dude, that’s ndot what grape tastes like!”

“He means thank you.” 

“...Thank you,” he said hesitantly, face warming over to his ears. 

Suzuno cleared her throat. “Get plenty of rest.”

And soon enough, the Devil's Castle was at peace again, at least for the evening.

[thelarsvolta96]

post about life lately

this is gonna be a long one so buckle up i guess. just wanted to explain why ive been gone and rarely active lately.

so ive been in and out of the ER lately, my most recent stay being 5 days long, because ive been having severe digestion issues and pain to the point where i couldnt eat or drink anything because it would just come right back up. my mental health has been down the fuckin drain lately as well. and i have no funds or health insurance to get help with any of this. thankfully before my ER visit i scheduled a mental health visit for tomorrow, which i totally forgot about until they emailed me asking for paperwork. but my follow up for my physical health isnt until october 3rd, and thats just to establish care, i doubt ill get any answers there. in the meantime ive lost 20 lbs without meaning to or trying, just because i cant eat very much at all. im somewhat convinced that i cant eat beef or gluten at all, and any time i eat a leafy veggie or something like broccoli that causes me intense pain and discomfort as well. but i dont know. i need to get allergy testing done and whatever other testing they can do on me. they did an upper endoscopy on me at the hospital and said i had "minor gastritis" which is ridiculous because of course its gonna look minor when i havent eaten in a week. i havent even been aggravating it. i dont know what to do. for now im eating what little i can and conserving my energy. im just so lost. not to mention my mental health just constantly spiraling, im sure in part due to me not getting the nutrients i need and also because i just feel so sick constantly.

the drs at the ER kept saying they think its cannabinoid hyperemesis, which i think is pretty bullshit, but they say the symptoms can last up to 6 months after ur last use. so i guess im gonna be off the weed until the end of march to see if thats really whats causing all of this. im hoping ill get a different diagnosis from the drs im able to see, but i dont know if i will. i just have to play it safe. unfortunately, the weed was like the single best helper for my physical pain from just existing as well as for eating food, so my appetite is basically nonexistent at this point as it has been for well over a decade now, only now i have no way to stimulate it. so now im in constant pain, constantly tired, constantly feeling sick. its hell.

anyway, im trying to keep a list of trigger foods, and so far its been any beef, and ive had a hard time with saltine crackers and pretzels. ive eaten chicken and rice alright, i was even bad and ate some french fries with sauce the other day and that was ok. hence my thinking that gluten might be fucking with me. but i have no idea. im just so distraught. i want answers. i need to be able to live my life.

i guess thats pretty much everything. hopefully i wont disappear for a large length of time again. sorry everybody

[multifandumbmeg]

Random update per my fics:

Sorry I haven't updated in the last few days. I usually try to write some every day, but I took a day off to plan Golden Glint and then finished the mini fic (Reckoning of Mike Carrera) I started before it because that's what I wanted to write and I wanted to finish it.

On the topic of all my in-progress fics, my writing just isn't consistent right now. I mentioned a while ago that I'm going through AO3 author's curse and would eventually expand on that, so since I'm extremely frustrated and paralyzed from being productive today I'll do that now.

Starting from winter/late fall of 2022 I got sick and basically never got better. I was having illness after illness that meds weren't solving, and my headaches just got more and more frequent until they were every day for at least three months. By the time I came home from Korea, I was having full-blown debilitating migraines every day and attacks where I would almost pass out and couldn't breathe. It took me a couple months but I got on insurance, started a new job, and managed to convince my parents to let me focus on getting my health together this year.

It's been extremely difficult and frustrating because US healthcare, but I found out I do not in fact have ANY allergies despite doctors telling me I do, literally putting me on allergy shots for a year, and telling me that was the cause of migraines, inability to breathe, and constant illness, none of which were true. I had to prove this to them by fighting to see an actual allergist and getting re-tested which costs me hundreds of dollars out of pocket, but at least the allergist was a good dude who wrote a SCATHING letter to my primary care demanding I be sent to the proper specialists for my symptoms. Several blood tests and medications later, we have whammy number two:

The hypoglycemia I was diagnosed with as a teenager was not in fact random. Instead, I have hyperthyroidism caused by Graves Disease. Except I ALSO have Hashimoto's Disease, because I am just so special like that. Basically, rather than allergies like I was always told, I have been getting every single sickness that rolled by for the past several decades and because I was so used to being sick and so criminally gaslit about it, I didn't even know I was ill and just kept going. Thyroid also has tumors on it. I may also have other autoimmune disorders, or thyroid cancer, but I won't know until I finally see an endocrinologist an hour away later this month.

Though my daily migraines stopped last summer, I still get frequent headaches and now extremely bad ones (or migraines) every time it rains. Generally, there seems to be some kind of inflammation issue where my body over-reacts to literally everything by swelling up and causing more problems.

Possibly tied to that, I was in pain every single day at work. Considering my age, there is no normal reason I should be crippled by joint pain but that is yet to be solved. I now only work two days a week, which has helped significantly, but I am still consistently in a ton of pain two days a week, sometimes three as a rebound.

In January, before I had gotten any diagnoses, my parents gave me an ultimatum that they were kicking me out in May. I had to beg them to go part-time because I simply could not keep up with job applications while I was so constantly tired and pain. After sobbing for two straight days about the inevitability of becoming homeless because I can't afford to or logistically live on my own, my mom convinced my dad to let me go part time on the condition that I continue to pay the same rent Ive been paying to live in one of their empty spare rooms.

In February, I went in for the first appointment toward getting an Autism screening. The therapist suggested I get an ADHD test and recommended me for the official autism screening, saying I have a solid case for suspecting. After a little computer game and another talking appointment, slightly to my own surprise (especially because of how easy it was) I was clinically diagnosed with ADHD. I recently started meds for that and it has made basic tasks and job applications infinitely easier to the extent it's insane, plus my final Autism screening is next week and based on my results every step of the process so far diagnosis seems likely.

All that said, the job search process has been soul-destroyingly frustrating. I have a masters degree in a specialized field, backed up by a Bachelor's in a relevant field, years of study abroad and work abroad (which is relevant to my career path) and a track record of excellent academic achievement. I also speak French and Korean near-fluently and am conversational in Romanian and Russian, as well as knowing a fair few phrases in a number of other languages. Every job I've had has stressed me out to the point of quitting by around a year (hello Autism), but also none were related to what I studied at all, highly customer service oriented, and still every one would tell you I was one of the best employees they ever had and begged me to stay. Even with this track record, after literally HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS of applications (which in my field almost always require a cover letter, often questionnaires and lengthy short answers, or even writing samples in addition) I have had ONE interview in four years. ONE. And I was so heinously underqualified for that hail-Mary I'm 99% certain they only interviewed me to meet a quota. As you can imagine, for someone with highly probable AuDHD, doing the same thing over and over for 4 years with a 100% failure rate is enough to make me want to dive into a lake with a pile of bricks chained to my back.

I'm still months out from seeing a neurologist about my headaches and general constant pain, I don't have a plan of action for my buck-wild medical anomaly thyroid, and I don't know if my parents are kicking me out next month. They haven't brought it up so maybe with my recent headway on the Peace Corps application (was told I stand a very good chance, but that's another contract job overseas, further pushing back my ability to find a stable, long term career job) and slew of diagnoses and medications, my dad is cooling off a bit. I don't know.

All that to say my body is crumbling out from under me, my job is stressful, and despite being extremely qualified and putting in so much effort, I have zero long-term life prospects. Sometimes, that results in me diving whole-hog into writing for fun and as an outlet, other times I'm too tired or need to bury myself in mindless content consumption or days of spending every spare moment staring at my ceiling in silence until I maybe fall asleep. Did I also mention the crippling lifelong insomnia which my ADHD meds (along with rapid weight loss I'm desperately trying to curb because I'm already borderline underweight due to my thyroid) are exacerbating?

Anywyay. Point is I'm very tired and stressed so my writing is going to be much less consistent than in the past. Hope you understand. Also just an update for my online friends. TMI but I needed to rant and put it out there for those wondering to lower expectations.

[mejomonster]

My gastroparesis driving me up a wall. And by that i mean ive been barely eating for over a week now and my symptoms still arent improving and im really not havin a great time im exhausted my bodys in pain trying to get me to Rest but i gotta work full time and my abdomen absolutely hurts but painkillers slow digestion even More so ive been laying down on heatpad as much as possible and i really dont wanna go back to an All Liquid diet (but even if i did im at the nausea and vomiting point of a gastroparesis flare which means even liquid only im likely to throw up either way) and like. I just wanna comfort eat bread cause i feel miserable exhausted in pain and it would be a small joy. But bread is absolutely not something i can eat during a flare. I can only eat it when doing good if i take benedryl. Im so angry and tired and id like to sleep for days. And i gotta still Make myself eat chips and protein shakes even tho i got nausea cause my gi meds dont work unless i eat Something. Even if i got nausea and tons of pain wooh

Anyway im getting flack from family for being so tired the last week and i love em and all but its awful feeling guilty for not calling Enough when its like goddamn eating (something humans gotta do at least once a day) hurts phenomenally and i barely can but i obviously desire to like any human then i eat and Ouch my body didnt fucking like that and punished me for it and im so mad. I feel awful and yeah im mad i dont got energy to hide how much pain im in and chat false enthusiastically for 20 minutes after already doing it all thru work. I had 1 teaspoon of peanut butter today and my remaining options are soup broth (but it had beans cooked in it and my body cant take fiber today so idk if its worth the risk of any accidental beans) and salad (which is of course raw vegetables fiber very hard on stomach rn so i can probably just eat a handful size portion and hopefully ill chew enough its mush and my body will tolerate it). And a protein shake (but its got fiber and is made of chickpeas i think for the protein so idk if my body is tolerating it or not im just drinking it so i dont have no calories). I had chips yesterday but i think my body considered it too solid or large to digest idk cause im eveb worse today. I also had toast yesterday cause i was so angry and hungry and wanted comfort food. So of course that messed me up. Which means i should take more benedryl. But then i wont just be hungry and pain tired, ill also be drug tired. And im so sick of being miserablr all day at work just to pass out the second its over cause allergy meds knocked me out then ive lost all day. But without allergy meds i can eat hardly anything i like. I mean i cant eat rn but like. Right before this fuckjng flare and hopefully once its over. Im just sick of it. Im tired and when i go to therapy next week shell probs ask oh what do you do to stress relief and its like... i get it but are u fucking kidding me. Im knocked unconcious from benedryl. And tired anyway cayse no food, and pain nonstop from gi tract. So im barely doing anything. I cant really get outta bed cause i need the 4 sq feet heatpad or ill be in agony over my abdomen. Dont have tv in room so i can use phone i guess. So tired i can barely keep eyes open or think so im not writing reading or watching shows on phone. I can idk listen to a reaction or lets play since if i fall asleep and wake up i dont need to follow a plot. But like im not in a state to be going for a fucking walk (i wish! I wanna dance and walk but my abdomen and back feel awful and im so tired im dizzy when i stand) or hang out w friend, which im sure idk shed prefer to hear some productive ass activity like god im just trying to keep myself employed and out of the ER until the flare rights itself. Please

And i know jts not that bad. Ive been worse. I couldnt eat solid food for 6 months once. I was in the ER weekly it was so bad i blocked most of it outta memory. This is only a couple weeks. And i havent thrown up much! I was throwing up 5 times daily back then. And i have had chips and peanut butter! I recognizr thats nice, i got some solid food and held it down! I know my gastroparesis is EONS LESS severe than it was when it started.

Its just like. It still sucks barely eating for weeks and any eating hurting immensely and nonstop nausea for days and pain not lowering. Like a normal healthy person might snap from anger if they try to go 20 hours without eating, or crash and need to eat to keep going, or just be run down as fuck and justifiable if they barely do anything that day. But i go days like that and im expected to just appear fine and live life normally like im not worn down af and just desperate to not feel nausea and pain and i just really wanna eat again. Normally.

[ssseriema]

me last week, i suddenly came down with a cough and a stuffy nose but i thought it was just sudden allergies anyways it’s been a week and i’m still recovering from sickness, hopefully you recover quicker than me 🤞

thank you >_< ive been really busy so i hope its nothing major. i also hope you recover fully soon anon!

[twen-nee7]

it is the first week of june, 2023. my partner was supposed to be here at the end of april. he moved to portland, oregon, at the beginning of 2022 and we planned to live there together, but things didn’t work out on his end, and we decided to regroup in west virginia for now.

he got very sick in april. there’s a lot going on. i wish i could afford to go see him in the hospital, but i can barely pay the bills. we were supposed to see the cure together this sunday ):

weird little story below the cut.

march, 2022: partner moved to oregon, having landed what he thought was his dream job in appraisals.

i wasn’t thrilled. i don’t like cities, they aggravate my sensory issues, but i was living on disability with my dysfunctional and sometimes-abusive mother; i just wanted out.

i was putting in hundreds of job apps for the portland area, but then my partner stopped me. he hates it. we shouldn’t live there, get a job where i can tolerate and he will figure it out. he planned on being here in december.

i got my bachelors degree and a shitty job as a proofreader at a law firm, secured a place to live near the office in west virginia, and eagerly awaited my partner to get here.

except, he couldn’t find a job. his industry is niche. it’s how it is. march, he said. still no job. finally, he finds one! yay! april!!!

i’m barely making ends meet. any extra expense is impossible as i eat every third day of the week. soon, it’ll be okay and i can have food daily and not cry about money, maybe fix my credit score.

the flight date is inching forward, but my partner gets kidney stones. one is the size of a quarter. he goes to the hospital.

no antibiotics. no urinalysis.

tw: graphic?? his urethra is shredded, and he needs to use a catheter until it heals. they send him home. it develops an infection, so he goes back; he is in the hospital for a day as they siphon liquid out of his penis with a giant needle. there’s no way he’s making his flight. reschedule.

the day before he flies out, he has a high fever on his antibiotics. i tell him to go to the hospital, and he does. they run tests… and he has MRSA. in his penis. they give him antibiotics, but don’t listen to his allergies.

his heart stops for four and a half minutes after they administer antibiotics he is allergic to.

there is an indescribable feeling that comes along with someone you love being resuscitated from actual death. the story of what he saw was harrowing, yet enlightening.

that hospital lets him out the next day after they killed him, giving him pills for MRSA after a mere 24 hours on IV antibiotics. plane is rescheduled.

it is the day before the flight, today, but he isn’t going to be here.

a week ago now, he went to a new hospital. the MRSA spread. he had a stomach ulcer. his penis was turning blue.

due to the mistreatment from the prior hospital (which likely gave him MRSA in the first place, along with a whole slew of other problems), the bacteria was running rampant, eating his penis from the inside out. sounds kinky, but it has eaten through so much muscle and tissue that the outlook isn’t great.

my partner is the most cishet person i know. as such, he is very attached to his genitals. as of this weekend, he has daily talks with therapists to help him learn to cope with the very real possibility that his penis will be useless sexually. reconstructive surgery is in his future, and he will “only” lose “some” feeling if he’s lucky. (the use of therapists indicates to me that “functionally useless” will be the most likely outcome, though)

i feel so badly for him. truly. i can’t imagine what he is going through right now, all alone… it’s terrible.

i’m not worried about my end of the sex life, but i am worried for him. i find it odd, though, and maybe feel somewhat at fault for always saying i’d never date anyone who could get me pregnant… maybe i shouldn’t have thought like that. it’s stupid to feel guilt right now, too; my partner, who i’ve been with for seven years, is suffering a continent away from his friends and family.

but… the whole thing. it’s so odd.

[fusion-of-fandom]

SO, I was sitting with some friends (i know, shocker) and we were just having fun during lunch.

Eventually we got onto the topic of vampires, and how they are after they die (something like, they get killed by a gunshot wound, so now they have a massive scar in where they got shot, or a drowned victim has unnaturally blue skin and lips etc.) specifically, the Cullen family and how they would have been if that same thing happened to them

...

ANYWAYS, THIS LED TO THE TOPIC OF HEAVILY IMMUNOCOMPRIMISED EDWARD CULLEN

and now, to headcannons :)

note: this is for comedy purposes, so most things are overexaggerated for the mood

◊ Everything in the story of twilight is the exact same

◊ the only difference is the vampire lore

◊ in short, Edward is so immunocompromised that Jacob sends his white twig ass into orbit

◊ just so he doesn't catch them FLEAS

◊ Seeing as he died of the Spanish flu, it could have gone either of 2 ways

◊ 1) he now is immune to everything, and no disease can fuck with him

◊ or 2) my personal favorite his body just contracts every disease over the 108 years he's been alive

◊ causing him to never know bodily peace

◊ and because I can, he can't get rid of it either since it will just come back from his body overreacting to a speck of dust

◊ Just imagine, the scene happens where Bella comes into class and Edward acts as if she's already got the whole school population on her, but he's in one of those massive yellow hazmat suits

◊ not because he's dangerous, oh no

◊ but because he's so immunocompromised that he's all but caught cancer and sickle cell disease

◊ Carries around at least 2 liquid sanitizers and damn near sprays everything he touches

◊ and like I said earlier, Jacob can and will take full advantage of the situation by just running at Edward at mach 6, so Edward goes mach 20

◊ LORD HELP HIS ASS WHEN HE PICKS UP RANDEVOUS FROM SCHOOL

◊ We all know that little kids are the equivalent of walking petri dishes

◊ All I can imagine is Recessive coming out of school and Edward crying over the phone with Bella because he can't even go within 5 feet of her lest he be put out of commission for 5 years

◊ He has one of those showers in his room that sprays the person that comes in with sanitation shit, since he's so ridden with disease

◊ and when I say "ridden with disease"

◊ I mean this man out here with every disease known to man and some even unknown on him 24/7

◊ I like to think every disease takes turns bullying him every day

◊ "Bubonic plague! Its your turn!"

◊ "Aw HELL YEAH! IMMA MAKE HIM THROW UP BLACK MYSTERY SLIME!"

◊ It'd honestly be easier to name something he DOSENT have

◊ man goes near dirt ONCE and now he needs an IV for a good week

◊ And since he's technically dead, he has no way to be rid of the many illnesses that are on him

◊ so he's just perpetually sick

◊ strangely enough though, he has no allergies

◊ dude is just a walking patient 0

◊ Which would eventually lead to Renaissance being immune to damn near everything

◊ Bella has to wear one of those hazmat suits with if they wanna get to making a cgi kid

◊ Carlile makes BANK on him tho

[microcosmtoxin]

i think my least favorite personal lore that i dont tell fucking anyone is my extensive and severe health anxiety. like since i was 8 i have been convinced i have some kind of cancer. always cancer. no one in my family has ever been affected by cancer and it wasnt until very recently that someone close to me was but its always been fucking cancer. leukemia. cervical. breast. ovarian. brain. thyroid. take your fucking pick ive literally been SURE completely continuously since i was EIGHT that i have cancer and am imminently going to die. stacked on top of that has been a wide variety of chronic illnesses, some probable some not, but it has completely demolished me at some points and its getting to that point again. i have had a persistent headache, persistent allergy symptoms at night, persistent abominal shooting pains, the list goes on and im really really dying this time.

i also KNOW that im probably wrong but that doesnt change anything.

AND TO MAKE IT ALL WORSE. im severely medical avoidant due to ptsd from a medical malpractice incident when i was 12 and i cant go to a medical office without having a severe panic attack and being super emotionally distressed for weeks before and after on top of the severe anxiety i felt before the incident. like the last time i had any kind of actual health scare i told ANYONE about i was worried i was getting another issue similar to what caused my incident and it turned out to be an ingrown hair. i cried so hard i passed out and basically regressed during the panic attack in which i told my parents to being 4.

i havent been able to ever alleviate my anxiety because i cannot go to a fucking doctors office. its not possible for me. the last time i did and tried to voice concern about my joint pain i was basically told too bad so sad about the pain and about my severe anxiety and avoidance.

i have lost so much to my ptsd and my anxiety around health i cant do sports because they require physicals i have never gotten treatment for any medical issue except for generalized anxiety since i was 12 and i live every day knowing that even though its probably all in my head and im not actually sick and dying, one day i could just die because i cant make it to a fucking doctors office.

and you, smart individual reading this post for some reason, may offer the fact that i can go to therapy to fix this issue! even though cbt and dbt have been ineffective i can do emdr! or another advanced trauma therapy! but you fool! therapists are also medical practitioners, therefore in my entirely distorted and unable to be rational brain, i cannot even meet with one. they are the enemy and it could open me up to more danger.

i am just so fucking sick of this. i am so fucking upset that this is how i have to be and i cant fix it even though ive tried and tried and tried and its definitely not helping that i am unimaginably depressed right now and i dont go to therapy and i dont have any support people besides my parents and i dont take any medication and none of that will change any time soon

i mostly just wish my fucking head would stop hurting