#oops! all chronic fatigue!

[vigilbutts]

when you crave character interaction with ur lil guys and other people's lil guys but you have zero energy to make it happen 😭

[crescenthistory]

c5 with paul atreides please 🫶🫶

ah, paul atreides, my favourite childhood best friends to lovers man. hope this is what you were imagining, love<3

Prompt: C.5 "There will not be a day where I am not there for you"

Words: 3.5k (oops)

Warnings: canon typical political unrest and tension, paul and reader have a lot on their shoulders, reader gets sick, implied chronic illness/flare-up/autoimmune reader but can be read as a normal fever (i'm indulging myself okay), hiding/avoidance, confrontation if you squint, hurt/comfort, they are in the unspoken stage between best friends and lovers, confessions of love, crying session, cuddles and kisses

The days on Caladan felt numbered.

Everywhere you looked, the subtle reminders of impending change crept in like shadows. The halls of Castle Caladan, once warm and full of life, felt quieter now, more solemn. The sea beyond the window still whispered its familiar lullaby, but even that seemed muted, like it was holding its breath, waiting.

Thus, you waited too, feeling the weight of the future settle over the estate like a shroud. Arrakis loomed on the horizon, distant but unavoidable. You could see it in every furrow of Duke Leto’s brow, in the way Lady Jessica moved with a deliberate grace that betrayed her own hidden tension.

Most of all, you saw it in Paul.

Your closest friend, your confidant since childhood. He carried the weight of all that was to come more heavily than anyone. It showed in the slight weariness under his eyes, the way his normally steady hands trembled when he thought no one was looking. He hadn’t spoken of it directly to you, not yet, but you knew him too well to be fooled.

The Paul of your memories – the boy who would laugh with you in secret corners of the castle, who would pull you into the sea on a whim, clothes and all – was slipping away, bit by bit. In his place stood a man, shoulders squared with responsibility, eyes far too wise for someone so young. It was a transformation that frightened you, not just because it meant losing the boy you once knew, but because you weren’t sure whether anyone could truly withstand all that waited him. Whether anyone would even notice how much it was wearing him down. Anyone but you.

It was why you were careful, watching him as you always did, trying to gauge when the weight would become too much. You had become a fixture in his life over the years, someone he could rely on when the pressures of being Duke Leto’s heir seemed too heavy to bear. A constant.

The days leading up to the move to Arrakis felt heavier, their passage marked by subtle shifts in the air. Paul was being pulled in so many directions – meetings, preparations, plans – and you saw him less and less. Worry grew in your stomach, but, as always, the two of you cut out time for each other, even if only a quiet hug for a few minutes in a corner somewhere.

Which is why, when you first felt the dizziness creeping in, the strange bouts of fatigue that left you breathless and weak, you kept it to yourself.

At first, it didn’t seem like much. Just a few moments of light-headedness, easily dismissed. You brushed off the way the room swayed, grounded yourself by gripping the edges of tables or leaning discreetly against the walls. When Paul looked at you, concern flickering in his eyes, you waved it away with a smile, pretending it was nothing. He had enough to worry about – you refused to add to it. Not when he was already carrying so much.

As the days passed, though, it became harder to hide. Your body betrayed you in small ways – your steps slower, your hands unsteady when you reached for things. The ever-present ache in your bones was becoming harder to ignore. You found yourself avoiding the castle’s common spaces, spending more time in your room, curled up in bed, trying to will away the growing sickness that had taken hold of you.

Even the servants noticed, their eyes lingering on you with concern as they brought trays of food you barely touched. It was not uncommon for you to grow sick occasionally, there was a running joke around the castle about your weak immune system, and usually the servants would let Paul know if you stayed in your room. This time, though, you gave them strict instructions not to speak of it to anyone, especially not Paul. He didn’t need to know. He didn’t need this on top of everything else.

You could handle it. You always handled it.

Yes, you kept it to yourself. Unfortunately, to achieve that, you also kept to yourself.

***

The evening sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the walls of your bedroom. You had not left the room in two days. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking out the golden light that you usually loved. Today, the brightness hurt your eyes, each beam of sunlight sharp as it hit your feverish skin.

You had barely eaten, your appetite vanishing as the sickness rooted itself deeper. It was more than just the fatigue now – your stomach churned, and your head pounded with every small movement. Beams of pain adorned your lower forehead, temples and eyesockets, and no amount of massaging seemed to help.

You told yourself the words Paul had always whispered to you on days like this; it will be fine, it is temporary, you are safe. You just need some rest.

It didn't have the same effect.

As you shifted under the blankets, trying to find a more comfortable position, you heard a quiet knock on the door. You froze. The knock was too familiar – soft, hesitant, but with a certainty that told you exactly who it was. Your tried to bite down a groan all the while your heart squeezed.

It was Paul.

This was the longest period of time you had gone without seeing each other in ages, and not from a lack of trying on his part. You knew his schedule by heart and had purposefully lived around it for the past week before you finally caved and retreated to your bed to get over this bout of sickness. Even there, you had the servants tell him you were elsewhere, should he ever ask them.

It was not that you did not miss him terribly nor a disdain for him seeing you sick – you had worked together to get over equating sickness with weakness in your head. However, a part of you clearly still saw it as a burden, because your heart ached at the thought of worrying him with this.

You could not hide forever, though, and now here he was. You felt oddly unprepared to face him as you scurried up, fixing your hair and trying to put on a more assured smile.

When you didn't respond to the knock, the door creaked open slightly, and Paul slipped inside. His eyes found you immediately, and you could see the worry in them as he took in your pale face and the heap of blankets surrounding you that seemed to scream I am hiding from the world.

"Hi, my love," he whispered, and you responded with a greeting yourself, sounding weaker than you had hoped.

He closed the door quietly behind him, his movements deliberate and calm, but you could sense the tension beneath his composed exterior.

“You’ve been avoiding me." His voice was low, soft but with a quiet accusation woven through it.

You swallowed, trying to summon the energy to continue to smile, to pretend like everything was fine. “No, no, I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lied. “I’ve just been… resting.”

Paul’s brow furrowed slightly, and he crossed the room with slow, careful steps until he stood at the edge of your bed. He looked down at you, his gaze searching, as if he could see through the weak façade you were putting up. He sat down beside you on the bed, body angled towards you, and reached for your hand.

His touch was gentle, cool against your feverish skin. “Resting...” he echoed, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. “Because you're sick. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You flinched inwardly. Of course, he knew. He always knew. Paul was nothing if not observant, especially when it came to you. You had been foolish to think you could hide this from him for long.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you admitted, voice barely a whisper. “You have so much going on right now. With Arrakis, with your father… I just didn’t want to add to your burdens.”

Paul’s expression softened, though the worry in his eyes remained. He shook his head slightly, as if unable to comprehend what you were saying. “You think you can ever be a burden to me?”

You didn’t respond immediately, because a part of you did feel like a burden, no matter how irrational it may be. Paul had so much on his plate already – how could you possibly ask him to worry about you on top of everything else?

Paul’s hand tightened around yours at your prolonged silence, attempting to ground you, pull you out of your spiraling thoughts. He sighed, a soft, weary sound, and then he spoke, his voice tinged with a quiet desperation you hadn’t expected.

“You are not a burden, my love. There will not be a day where I am not there for you – you just have to let me.”

The words hit you like a wave, gentle but powerful, their weight sinking deep into your chest. Paul’s gaze never left you even when yours flickered from nerves. In that moment, you saw the truth in his eyes. He wasn’t just saying it to comfort you, he meant it with every part of him. There was a fierce honesty in his voice, a promise.

"I'm sorry, Paul," you began, unsure of how to phrase yourself. "I just really did not want to worry you more than you already are."

“I was more worried when I didn’t see you,” he continued softly. “When I didn’t know what was wrong. To not know how you are or what is going on hurts more than anything else.”

Your breath caught in your throat, guilt and relief swirling together in a confusing mixture. You hadn’t realized how much your absence could affect him. Paul always seemed so steady, so unshakable, but now, as he sat beside you, his hand still holding yours with that familiar tenderness, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes. There was a fear there that you wanted to smooth away, the fear of losing you, of not being able to help.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, dragging your intertwined hands closer to your body. "I didn’t mean to make things harder for you. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Paul sighed again, this time softer, and he shifted closer, so his side was flush against yours. You moved some of the blankets around so there would be no barricade for him, your breathing somehow already easier at his presence. His hand left yours only for a moment, but you immediately missed the warmth of his touch. He reached up to cup your cheek, tilting your face so you were forced to meet his gaze again.

“You could never make things harder for me. You are what make things easier” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “You are my anchor. Without you…”

He trailed off, but the weight of what he didn’t say hung in the air between you. Without you, he’d be lost. Without you, the pressures of his future, of the impending move to Arrakis, might consume him entirely.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away, not wanting to cry in front of him. Paul saw the flicker of emotion and leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. His breath was warm against your skin, his closeness comforting in a way that words could never be.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was a whisper, eyes searching yours. "Be honest."

You let out an almost teary-laugh, overwhelmed by emotion. "Terrible, quite frankly. My body is aching and I feel like I'm on a boat."

Paul hummed, thumb still brushing your cheek. "Would it help to lay further down?" He always knew.

You tried to nod, but frowned when the movement caused you more pain. Paul immediatley leaned forward to kiss away the furrow of your brows, knowing the tension usually worsens your headache, and then went to help you lay down in a better position. With your heads laid on the same pillow, Paul held your waist with one hand and your face with another, trying to massage out any tension.

“You don’t have to protect me,” he whispered, voice low and steady, wrapping around you as much as his comforting embrace. “Not from this. Not from you. Even now, with everything – especially now actually – you are the one thing I need.”

His words settled over you, soothing the ache in your chest, yet stirring something deeper, something raw that you had tried so hard to suppress. The weight of everything – the move, the sickness, your unwavering care for him – all of it was bearing down on you, but hearing Paul speak with such sincerity, seeing the tenderness in his eyes, it made something inside you break. The kind of break you could only do around him, because you knew in your heart you were safe to do so.

You exhaled shakily, feeling the tears that had been threatening to spill finally break free. A small sob escaped your throat before you could stop it, and suddenly, it was as if the floodgates had opened. The tears came in earnest now, unbidden and unstoppable, all the emotions you had kept hidden pouring out.

Paul didn’t flinch, he didn’t pull away. Instinctively he pulled you closer to him, gathering you gently into his chest, his movements slow and careful, so as to not hurt or startle you. He held you close, head against his chest, his warmth enveloping you, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear. He moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he whispered soft, soothing words you couldn’t quite make out over the sound of your own quiet sobs.

You had not realised just how much you had been holding in until this moment, how badly you had needed him. The world outside felt too heavy, too uncertain, but here, in his arms, you felt safe. The weight you had been carrying melted away, leaving only the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek.

“I’m here,” Paul murmured softly, his voice soothing, as if the words themselves could hold you together. “I’m right here. I'm not going anywhere, I'm with you.”

You closed your eyes, breathing him in, letting the sound of his voice calm the storm of emotions inside you. The soft, rhythmic strokes of his fingers in your hair, the way his hand pressed gently into the small of your back, holding you against him. Everything about his presence was grounding, reminding you that you are not alone. You never had been.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a long moment, your voice thick with emotion, though the tears had finally begun to slow. “I didn’t mean to–”

“Shh,” he interrupted gently, his lips brushing the top of your head in the softest of gestures. “You don’t need to apologise.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes still glassy from the tears. His face was close, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. His usually composed features, now filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. His thumb brushed a stray tear from your cheek, and he offered you a small, reassuring smile.

“I was just trying to give you space,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. “You’ve been dealing with so much, and I didn’t want to add to it.”

Paul’s brow furrowed slightly, as though he fundamentally could not understand how you could view yourself or your relationship that way. His hand still rested on your cheek, his touch light but steady.

“I know what’s happening around us is overwhelming,” he admitted, careful, like he didn’t want the weight of the words to fall too heavily between you. “But I’m not leaving Caladan behind to face Arrakis alone. I need you with me. In spirit as much as in person.”

“Oh, Paul,” you breathed, his name slipping from your lips like a quiet confession. You searched his eyes, unsure of what to say, unsure if you could even find the words for everything you were feeling. You moved one of your hands that was clutching his shirt up to trace his face.

You could see in his eyes that he knew everything you wanted to say. He had always known.

“I’ve always needed you, my love,” he whispered, his gaze unwavering, the intensity of his words cutting through the quiet of the room. “Not just now. Not because of Arrakis. I’ve needed you for as long as I can remember. Please just let me.”

The tears that had begun to dry on your cheeks threatened to return, but this time, they weren’t tears of sorrow or guilt. They were tears of relief, of knowing you never had and never would be alone in your care for him. Paul is there for you, just as you are there for him. Paul will worry for you, just as you were there for him.

"I'll let you, if you let me." There was a slight teasing smile on your lips, though its effect was lessened my the glossiness that remained in your eyes.

"I swear to."

You hummed, ducking your head back down to hide in his neck, breathing both him and the moment in.

“I'm afraid of it,” you admitted softly, your voice trembling. “Afraid of just how much I need you, even if you need me too.”

Paul’s expression softened even more, if that was possible. He gently tugged your face back up to meet his, so he could rest his forehead against yours and cup your cheek. His closeness was dizzying – but you much preferred this form of dizziness. You felt tethered to him in a way you had never felt with anyone else, like the two of you were the only ones in this vast, overwhelming world who truly understood one another.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured, lips almost brushing yours due to your proximity. “Not with me.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing against his as you looked into his eyes. His thumb brushed across your cheek again, his touch as soft as ever, and before you could stop yourself, before you could dare to think twice, you closed the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a tentative, gentle kiss.

Paul responded immediately, his hand moving to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate tenderness. The kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic – it was filled with years of unspoken longing, of quiet moments that had been leading up to this. It was a kiss that felt like home, like something you had been waiting for without even realising it.

When you pulled back, your foreheads still resting together, both of you breathing softly, you felt the weight of everything lift, if only for a moment. It all faded into the background, leaving only the two of you, together, in the quiet safety of this moment.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, echoing the unspoken promise between you. “Not without you.”

Paul’s lips quirked into a small, almost boyish smile, the kind you hadn’t seen from him in so long. He pulled you into his chest again, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, reassuring embrace. You could feel the tension leaving his body, as if holding you like this had given him the strength he had been searching for.

"Take care of me, Paul?" you whispered, knowing now that this is what he needed.

He sighed, relieved, whispering a yes, please into your hair before placing a series of kisses there, holding you unbelievably tighter. His hands went back to massaging your neck and temples, moving languidly as he did anything he could think of to make you more comfortable in the moment.

For a long while, neither of you said anything. You simply stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside your door quiet and distant. This was the kind of rest you had truly been needing.

“I will always be here for you,” Paul whispered against your hair again, as if he needed to reassure himself of it. “I swear it.”

"And I you, my love."

You held him closer, letting your eyes drift shut and your body aches ease. You let yourself believe him. Because you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t just another comforting assurance. It was a vow, one that would last long beyond the move to Arrakis. 

No matter what storms came, no matter what weight the future held, you and Paul would face them together.

[olderthannetfic]

General social media complaint of the moment, for me: the internet right now really likes diagnosing people based on, like, one line of information.

You say "I don't like crowds," and you get 'peer reviewed' as autistic. You say, "oops, I lost my keys," and you suddenly have ADHD according to 3 different people. Oh, you're flexible? Well they don't know that you spent ten years doing artistic gymnastics — so maybe there's something wrong with you! How exciting for them! Have you been checked for EDS? Oh, you're tired a lot? Well! Have you been assessed for chronic fatigue? Fibromyalgia? Anaemia? There are so many ways total strangers can cram you into a neat little box to explain how you're sick!

Presumably it just doesn't occur to people that saying "I just read 12 words about you — have you been assessed by a medical doctor for this thing I have decided is wrong with you?" is incredibly invasive and rude. I'm sure that many of them are also just projecting their own experiences with the under-diagnosed problem of the day onto others instead of talking about themselves like they want to. But while that makes their feelings and motives more sympathetic, it has zero effect on how rude they are being!

Like, unless someone is saying "I just don't know why I'm so tired all the time. Does anyone know what it could be?" or unless they are already a very good friend (and not a beloved mutual you've replied to 3–10 times!) maybe it's just not very good manners to tell people there must be some mystery thing wrong with them that they need to address? Maybe?

--

Ah, the internet.

I'm totally going to continue to armchair diagnose all of you in my inbox though. ;)

[tabooiart]

STEX APPRECIATION MONTH DAY 1: RUSTY

Favorite Actor(s): GARY CORDICE my all time fav Rusty forever and ever. Also huge shout outs to: Ray Shell, Greg Mowry, and Kevin Köhler <333

Favorite Song/Scenes: The scene right before the final race lives in my head forever. Also OLC Call Me Rusty and also the love ballad ! Actually I love every single scene Rusty is in he always rules

Favorite Costume(s): Firm believer that 80's Bochum Rusty was PEAK in terms of his costume that right there was perfect.

Favorite Ships/Friendships: I am SUCH a prusty shipper they're SO SO SO important. To the point where I don't personally ship Rusty with anyone else oops. As far as friendships go Rusty's relationship with Dustin is so good and so overlooked they are. besties!!!!!

Headcanons: He's a chronic pain/stiffness/fatigue king due to his rust and state of disrepair. I do think that post canon he starts working to combat his issues and get repairs!!!

Unpopular Opinion: Rusty should exclusively be played by baritones or baritenors get these little white tenors OUT OF HERE!!!!!

[cleolinda]

Weekend links

My posts

I am so sick lmao. I mean, I'm fine; it's not covid, it's just some kind of sinus bullshit that turned into a bad sore throat very quickly, and we've managed to treat it early. But I am very tired, and now (being sick myself) I can't even go visit my nephew in the hospital. Now that he's getting decent care (document the care or lack thereof you get, if you can), he's improving a lot, although I don't know when he'll be able to come home.

As such, the most/only interesting thing I've written is a Patreon Future Vision tier newsletter about what I'm working on. I do have a finished short story I can post later in the month, once a contest regulation has expired. I'm just thrilled that I finished something, honestly.

However, my queue got ahead of me--I had a couple clusters of posts that I intended to do my own posts about (see below), and then. Well. We'll circle back around to those at some point.

(All I said was "It is my wish for you and all of us that the bullshit stops soon" and it got 900 notes, so apparently we are all Going Through It right now.)

Reblogs of interest

Christmas on Tumblr is the best way to experience Christmas:

Sasha the Christmas Tiger: yes good

The Reindeer Gifs

--

"The posting on this website is gonna be inSANE when Henry Kissinger dies on January 22nd, 2024." Well...

--

I realized a while ago that the massive dysfunction spiral I went into from, like, 2016-2022 was autistic burnout (surgery and covid: not helping!), and I had these two posts queued as a springboard for talking about that. OOPS:

Autistic burnout: a guide

Autistic burnout recovery

--

Something else I meant to write about--posts on physical health, mobility, and/or chronic pain:

If you are dealing with deep fatigue and chronic pain: "you can exercise. you just need to vastly vastly change what the word[s] exercise movement activity mean for you."

If you sit hunched over, do this stretch for your back

@hybridcalisthenics shows us how to work up to a deep squat

--

Black, gay and graying gracefully in love

Two important statements: "This is a high quality and deeply unpleasant piece of art" and, conversely, "It’s beautiful but I don’t like it."

I just really liked this Cerridwen art

Video

I don't understand how this is a painting

🎶 You know they were watermelon 🎶

The first cat video ever (1899)

This joyous wet dog

This very loud unwet dog

Majestic garden Fox enjoys Zoomies in the Snow

They're not making laundresses like they used to

The sacred texts

Nothing this week unless you count Sasha, and I do

Personal tag of the week

A fine new addition to the teacup voids tag

[c0stiffen]

blind arven au!penny has been living rent free in my head. i'm not sure if you already have ideas on her specific disabilities, but i've been thinking about her having POTS/chronic fatigue that developed after the bullying. A lot of the disabled people I know, including myself, have developed health conditions or had them worsen after a period of prolonged stress, plus i think it would be nice to see representation of someone who uses a wheelchair for reasons other than a spinal injury paralyzing their legs. these are just thoughts, no pressure, but she's kind of comforting to me.

[I had this written a long time ago and I thought it was published, oops my mistake]

(Oh the same thing happens to me, only with Giacomo instead of penny) Penny is not paralyzed nor does she have a problem with her spine, she is able to get up and walk! although my initial idea has been that she has some problem with her heart that forces her to use the wheelchair. Most wheelchair users are not paralyzed but it has always been strange to me that people usually believe that ALL wheelchair users are paralyzed.

But I like the idea of ​​chronic fatigue! I didn't want to delve into exactly what Penny has because 1- I'm still indecisive 2- I focus a lot more on the difficulties of wheelchair users in general (like those handicap ramps that would only make the person fly away).

So it's free interpretation for now! Thanks for asking!!!❤️

[healingheartdogs]

I think the worst thing (for me) about POTS is how absolutely exhausting it makes basic hygiene and self care (on top of my executive dysfunction already making thats stuff difficult, and on top of the chronic fatigue my POTS causes that makes life in general harder).

If I take a shower and the water is even a little too warm? I'm down for the rest of the day - even if I took my beta blockers, even if I used my shower chair the whole time - because my heart rate got too high and now I have to crash.

Washing and brushing my hair? Might as well be running a marathon. The audacity of me to have my arms held above chest height long enough to do those things, how dare I?! Brushing my teeth? Flossing? Same thing. Arms are not allowed to be raised above heart level, silly.

Skincare and body moisturizing that I need to do for my skin to not get painfully irritated and itchy? Who do you think you are, doing all that reaching and massaging? Sit your about-to-faint butt down on the cold tile floor right this instant and put your head down and think about your life choices. Exercising to avoid deconditioning and getting worse? LOL thats funny, such a good joke. Walking around the house and doing day to day stuff IS exercise as far as my heart rate is concerned.

I can't even make myself food because chopping things, stirring stuff, bending over to get stuff out of the fridge, reaching up to get things out of cabinets or the freezer, even just standing for more than a few minutes in front of the counter or stove? Oops, there's that little buzz from my fitbit saying I've reached cardio peak heart rate, and wow suddenly I feel like I can't catch my breath, that's weird. Better sit down for a bit. Or lay down on the floor with my feet elevated and give up. Hopefully my housemate will find me and take pity on me and finish making my food for me.

Or maybe I'll just crawl to my bed once my heart rate settles down, take an 8 to 10 hour long recovery nap, and try again tomorrow.

[magical-girl-coral]

I just realized I never into detail about my disabled Orihime hcs, oops.

In my au, Orihime suffers from chronic pain and fatigue post winter war. She healed so many people that she subconsciously started using her own life force when her reiatsu ran out and ended up in a week long coma. Even after several weeks of recovery and physical therapy, the ache in her bones didn't go away and everyone had to accept the fact that is is now here for good.

Orihime was lowkey banned for an entire year from practicing her powers on her own out of fear she will accidentally use her life force again. Chad was both there to be a training partner and lookout should she show signs of self destruction. On her average days she just needs leg braces and stretches. On the hardest ones she needs a wheelchair. Those days are the heaviest to go through. They make her feel like a burden cause her school isn't wheelchair friendly so she ends up missing lessons and relying on her friends for homework.

Her pains can come out of nowhere. One week she can walk freely without any help and the next morning she can't get out of bed from the pains. Sometimes it's in the beginning of the day and other times it's right down the middle. It became difficult to find a job, but thankfully the boss at ABCookies was compassionate towards her situation and the bakery was already wheelchair friendly.

Orihime used to be a decent dancer before her diagnoses and she deeply, deeply misses being able to dance without a "timer". It's one of the main things she mourns the most.

Orihime lets all her friends decorate her crutches with stickers of their choice. Her favorite is the limited audition chappy sticker Rukia gave her.

Uryu knitted hand grips for all of Orihime's equipment when she complained how the rubber hurt hands. She cried when he showed them to her as birthday gift.

Orihime can't use painkillers cause have a huge addiction risk, especially for her thanks to her alcoholic parents and her lack of emotional tability. She instead does physical therapy and uses cream that relaxes tightened muscles.

Kisuke build Orihime her wheelchair personally. It's easily foldable and moves in response to her spiritual pressure and even can have a remote control attached to it on the absolute worst days.

He also invented a type of wheelchair that can float by adding two tanks contained with pure spiritual pressure in the back. But that one heats up easily and can burn her skin so it;s still in development during TYBW.

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hey! Can you explain what projected memories are? You mentioned it in a post in relation to amnesia and black/grey outs :)

Hey,

We use “projected memories” as a term that would fall under the “pseudomemories” umbrella, like exomemories, but different. Our projected memories helped disguise our amnesia and helped our system maintain an internal facade of functioning as a singlet, even when we weren’t.

Quite honestly different systems function in so many different ways, that our experience with projected memories may not align with other systems’ experiences with them. But we can certainly talk about projected memories from our own experience.

Basically a projected memory is when our brain takes a similar event we’ve experienced, and copy-pastes it into different days and times to fill in gaps we can’t remember, giving us the illusion that we have a full recollection of past events when, in reality, we’re just remembering copies of the same event.

Here’s an example:

Corrie (our work part) may have memories of fronting at work every day for the past few weeks. They may feel confident in their ability to recall going to work every single day.

However, let’s say that there was one day in the past week where our system had a mental breakdown, a chronic pain/fatigue flare up, or some other severe, distressing event that made us have to miss work.

Corrie may not remember this. Corrie might feel like something like that just didn’t happen, and they might feel 100% certain that they’ve been fronting normally and that we’ve been attending work without issue.

Those memories Corrie has of us being at work, when in reality we had called out and were at home sick, would be projected memories. They didn’t actually happen.

We wouldn’t call them exomemories, per se, because they might actually be remembering stuff that happened. But it’s like they may sometimes have a week’s worth of the same day repeating, and feel like they have a full week of memories, when in fact they just have one or two days of memories that have projected onto the rest of the week.

Does this make sense?

This sort of thing happens to lots of us. Where we feel like time has been passing normally, and we have a full memory of what’s been going on, but when we take a moment to examine those memories, or when we get a second opinion from someone outside our system, it’s revealed that what we thought happened either didn’t happen at all, or actually took place days, weeks, or even months ago.

(Oops, accidentally posted instead of saving as a draft, so this post is unedited and off the dome. Sorry. But this is the gist of our thoughts on projected memories. We’re happy to discuss or explain this further if you’d like. And if anyone has any experience with projected memories they’d like to share, please do so by all means!)

💫 Parker and 🐢 Kip

[keplercryptids]

i don't know if i have chronic fatigue (outside of the fatigue that accompanies chronic migraines of course, so it's kind of all jumbled anyway) but then there are just days like today. where my. bones feel sleepy??? for no reason?? anyway i meant to do literally anything today but instead i lied down oops.

[feelyourno1z]

About Me I Guess

Noiz/Cy | 23 | AuDHD + other stuff, chronic pain & fatigue | Queer & Genderqueer/Transmasc | Taken | He/They Always down to talk to people, PLEASE feel free to talk to me about my SpIns!!! Spiritually sending all moots a high-five and slipping a piece of their favorite candy into their pocket <3

DNI: TERF, any kind of exclusionist, racist, endogenic/tulpa, suibaiter, etc. General bigotry and asshole BS isn't tolerated here

Special Interests (critical of all interests):

Vincent Van Gogh, Wotakoi, Studio Ghibli, Snoopy, The Muppets, Tokyo Revengers, DMMD, Chainsaw Man, Paradox Live, Fairy Tail, Undead + Unluck, Gachiakuta, PomPomPurin, Game Grumps, Stardew Valley, JJBA, Marine Bio, World Building, Character Design, Art History, Greek Mythos, Bring Me The Horizon, Watsky, Pokemon B&W, Game Grumps, Dungeon Meshi, Arifureta, Queen Bee (band), Dandadan, + more I’m sure I’m missing oops

[batfinz]

I’m a wee bit stupid, so aside from wings does your DC OC have any other powers? Just curious

Hi!! yes she does.

I've never done a full lore dump on here, mainly cause I'm still figuring things out, but essentially she's an angel in a human body because she's on the angelic equivalent of parole. (stealing human artifacts for her collection... sad!)

basically what that means is her consciousness / spirit thing got put into a human baby's body when it was born. She had a normal childhood until about 12 when she gained her powers back and some of her memories of her time as a full angel.

she's simultaneously a 24 year old girl trying to manage in the city AND a billion year old angel trying to help get rid of demonic entities and sins ans Such.

she's got healing powers and like, ranged magic abilities, as well as a staff and maybe some other weapons? i havent fully decided yet though LOL

the problem with her being a divine being in a human's body is that her human body can't really deal with all the energy that comes with that. so she has a ton of chronic pain and chronic fatigue (think fibromyalgia bc im projecting lol) that gets worse the more she uses her powers. that's why she uses a cane!

she can show and hide her wings / halo / extra eyes at will, and she has a less humanoid form that she would take on if she were to go back to heaven.

i used christian angel hierarchies to base this around, she'd be the equivalent of a principality if she wasn't on angel parole lol oops.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Work Ethic

Sometimes I just really wish I didn’t have the work ethic I do.

See, while I appreciate that almost every working person in the world, myself included, is overworked and underpaid, and should therefore not be giving any more than what one’s job description details as one’s responsibility in the office, here’s the thing - one should give no more than one’s job description ... but no less, either. And the job is simple, in this case. There are reports. We type them.

The job description on their contracts might be different, but mine didn’t say a damn thing about “but only when the manager’s not in the office, at which point you can slack off all you want because there’s no one to reprimand you”.

Yeah, Scruffman was at another site that was hella backlogged and having some understaffing issues today. Thank the gods he’s back in the office tomorrow because they cleared the other site’s backlog faster than expected. I can take or leave him as a person, but I’m not in the office anyway. The only reason I’m glad is because of what I went through today, which was basically being the only one spending the majority of the workday actually working. I mean, yes, we’re not doing as badly with the typing queue as we had been. Hell, it hit mid double figures today! And I kind of want to keep it that way, but apparently the other girls don’t agree because things ground to a standstill mid-afternoon. That whole thing where Violet does the long complicated dictations doesn’t really happen when Violet isn’t typing at all, or is doing so at such a slow pace that she might as well not be. Temp stopped working almost entirely around 4pm, and I got the reason for that right up in my face when I went to get a last couple of things with seven minutes on the clock: she’d picked up one four-ish minute dictation, apparently to show willing, then dawdled over the shorter ones she’d picked up and left that longer one for last so that when her time in the office was ... well, almost up (I think she also works until 5:30), she dumped that one four-ish minute one back in the queue and left. If I had time to type it (and I did), so the fuck did she. But nope. Just “Oops, almost out of time, back in the queue it goes...”

So the queue’s going to be back in the 150s, probably, by the time people turn up at the office tomorrow. I was actually trying to work at a moderate pace for once because I know I’ve been dancing on the precipice of epic burnout (because, you know, the disability that comes with chronic pain and fatigue?), but by mid-afternoon I was back at breakneck pace and doing the long ones that nobody else seemed keen to touch on top of everything else. I mean, it could have been worse, but everybody knows that the techs crank to high gear after 5pm; the decks should be as clear as possible before then. And nobody should require the manager’s presence to do some fucking work once in awhile. If I can do it from home, with all the temptations of faff to distract me, they can do it in the office.

It’s people like them who lend those stupid articles about how much better working in the office is for productivity any kind of weight whatsoever, you know. Though it’d be entirely the reverse in my case either way; not only does not having to commute help me actually be able to work better, but when shit like this happens, I only fume about the work not being done instead of fuming over the work not being done and grinding my teeth in rage because I’m having to try to do my own work through the distraction of their chatter.

(To some people, noise is noise is noise. I cannot explain to those people the difference between chosen background noise, like music, and not-chosen background noise, for instance chattering colleagues - or, here at home, construction work going on nearby and the neighbour’s kids using the corridor as their personal playground. Again. It’s a beautiful day and there’s a lawn right out back, and they’re using our hallway, with its grubby carpet, as a place to play. I DO NOT GET IT. Anyway.)

So here’s me being grumpy and fed right the fuck up. Huzzah. I will veg a little, take my meds, and gear myself up for the preparation of dinner. I don’t really want to cook but I want to get ahead of the curve on ready-to-eat meals, and also I did a lot of walking for some of those ingredients I got yesterday and am keen to enjoy them and not procrastinate on cooking until they’re kind of skanky.

[sneef-to-a-snorf-fight]

little vent abt medical shit

hhhhhhh i’m so sick of not knowing my diagnosis. like. is it something that can be fixed? or is it a chronic illness? should i get a cane so i can minimize the pain and fatigue and stabilize myself when i’m lightheaded and nauseous? and help me get to the bathroom when i’m near bedridden? or can i just like. take a pill and oop it’s gone forever you’re better now. this same shit happened last year with the chronic appendicitis. that i didn’t know was appendicitis for the first 2 months. that doctors came up with tons of tests and possible diagnoses that were all negative until i was finally hospitalized. that the surgeon told me was impossible to remove until i got a competent surgeon 3 months later who took it out easy. i wish doctors were better and actually listened and could order the right tests the first time and insurance companies stop canceling tests without telling you because they think it’s not essential and the people conducting the tests actually gave a shit about getting conclusive results. aghhhhhhh. anyway next appointment is in a week and i’m going to stop minimizing how much this is affecting me.

[aviofavalon]

blah blah blah i hate capitalism i know we all know it but man i just need to bitch and lament bc like

i sometimes get upset that i didn't recognize my worth as a worker when i was younger, and now that i actually work at a job i enjoy, i feel like i can't put in the effort i want to. my body went too hard too fast and now i am 32 with chronic pain and fatigue (mental illnesses notwithstanding)

some days i dread work, dread its concept, desperately wish i could stay home. other days i love it and am thrilled to be here and i love that it keeps me in shape and i love that i am usually dependable and efficient.

i am learning to call in more and to rest my body when i need it, but i have missed five to six days total in the past two weeks and like right now i really wish i could take off more. i have been burnt out for a decade and it takes more than a job i enjoy to recover, takes more than a week vacation and some days off here and there to be better

it just sucks. i can't afford to work less. and my insurance is dependent on my full time employment. i like! my job!!!! but i really wish i had more of a choice in it. i wish i could take more days off without stressinf about doctor's notes or about losing my full time status and therefore my insurance.

my job is probably killing my body tbh! i walk on concrete from 7 to 11 hours a day in the summer moving pallets and heavy boxes etc. i never learned how to not walk on my toes and that has done a number to all the joints in my legs and feet.

but working in fast food for ten years was killing my soul tbh if i can help it i will never go back.

idk it sucks!!!! even here it would be nice if i can go to part time but oops i need insurance for my therapy and psych visirs and meds and the fact thar my body seems to be breaking down on me slowly some days, quickly others.

[stressed-sock]

introducing my helsmit (also rns kinda) oc: glove!

as a hels for my sona sock haha get it (sweats as i realize i haven't done a thing about my actual sona yet oops)

anywho glove goes by they/them pronouns, ig they run a pawnshop/thriftshop/lost and found kinda situation? just like a general hoarder of anything and everything on the off chance it's useful

chronic fatigue haver, sleeps a lot but is usually tired anyway, has a small living area above the shop that's almost a nest with the amount of blankets and pillows and stuff in there, loves mushrooms even though i am personally not a huge fan of them (aside from like wood ear- okay i'm getting off track)

the cloak was given to them when they first spawned, from a stranger they have yet to find the identity of, and they are also fond of wearing small trinkets. also also they have horns on account of being some kind of dragon/dragon hybrid, but they're small and dull enough to be hidden in their perpetual bed head :D

in the rns universe (by the very awesome @silverskye13 btw) i think they would've helped/worked with the demon like once or twice cause of a somewhat amicable relationship with their player counterpart and an ability to get some overworld stuff (they'd be absolutely terrified of him though but like it's fiiine lmao)

and that's all i can think of for now!! they are so fun to doodle on my school notes :3