#photophobic conditions

[headpainmigraine]

PSA: ANYONE WITH A PHOTOPHOBIC CONDITION

Tumblrs new sponsored ad for the Wolf Man has a section with flickering lights

It's brief, but was enough to set me off.

Its not warned and is unexpected

Just lyk in case it catches anyone else off guard.

ETA: I did report the issue, but I'm not expecting anything to happen. They just think we're being precious, or overexagerrating, or are happy with us having a subpar experience on their website because no one gives a flying fuck about this problem.

EATA: holy shit, its gone??? 🤔

EYA: aaand, its back, a new one, also with flickering lights, I am sick and tired of this shit, how fucking hard is it to think about disabled people???

[doctor-yoshi-soul]

If there's one joy I've found in character creation over the years it's the sublime joy in writing a character who's a little bit disabled.

Not in a way where it doesn't affect them at all, just not in a way where it's always debilitating at every moment.

Bonus points if the disability is unrelated to other trauma, at least in origin.

Like...I love a good PTSD survivor story. I love the catharsis of someone who has suffered immensely getting to heal and be safe. But, a common side effect of PTSD is insomnia, and of course the trope of a survivor being haunted awake is well-worn to death.

But...maybe they just have insomnia? It's a common condition elsewise. And you could still make the PTSD make it worse, if you wanted. Maybe because they were already an insomniac it makes it harder for them to register the PTSD because to them the lack of consistent sleep was already normal. It's that kind of thought process.

You could make your character totally blind, or you could make them colorblind, or have awful astigmatism, or maybe a rarer condition that doesn't necessarily preclude them from seeing altogether.

You could make your character lose a limb, or you could give that limb a reduced range of motion, make them a little off balance. Or even instead of making them lose the limb tragically, make them born without it to begin with!

I guess the point is that the more I research this line of thought, the more interesting I find people are just innately, without any outside interference to begin with, and I encourage anyone else considering making characters with various disabilities, physical or mental, to see what would happen if you tried something that's not necessarily from the bottom of the barrel.

[nonpositiveartist]

Albinism is a congenital condition characterized in humans by the partial or complete absence of pigment in the skin, hair and eyes. Albinism is associated with a number of vision defects, such as photophobia, nystagmus, and amblyopia.

Yeah, I want to show off my albino-Berg headcanon, and so what? Yeah, I don't understand how in hell his hair ever must look like (I know it's more about short and straight + maybe some shaved out parts, but, uh... chardesign is difficult, okay?). Yeah, I want to express his photophobia by making you photophobic with as much eyestrain as my own eyes are able to bear.

No, I am not stepping away from the trail of angst I swear on Broken God's name for it! And yeah, I'll be posting out something interesting in relation to that in a few days, hehee. (Though, okay, no, you're not getting it, it is still an angst because if you read these images as a story - Iceberg takes off his glasses and puts them away, then stares at the sun and shrieks in agony - yep, we're still on the right path!)

[sashi-ya]

Biggest tip I have is to use a migraine tracker app. I've had good luck with Migraine Buddy. It lets you keep track of symptoms, potential triggers, treatments and treatment effacies. Also will do doctor reports including the scales used toimpact functioning. It gives you hard data to grind your doctor's nose in. And make sure it gets scanned/filed into your chart. Also since your doctor is an ass communicate in SBAR if you're not already. https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.healint.migraineapp

Two migraines that remain in the pain phase for more than 72 hours without breaking are dangerous and its recommended you go to the er, especially if you're showing stroke like symptoms. Depending where you are they may have a migraine cocktail( it varies but the nearst er to me used 1L Normal Saline, prochlorperazine, dyhyphendramamine, dextramethazone and ketorolac) or dihydroergotamine.

As for tips for dealing with the pain. I'm photophobic so blocking out as much light as humanly possible helps me. I'm not sensitive to sounds so listining to soothing music/biniral tones helps me. I've found meditations for pain on the Calm App and Youtube helpful. Migrastil an essential oil stick is useful as long as mint and lavender arent triggers. Scalp masage, accupressure points, and riki have all given me some relief.

Hydrate. Hydrating might not fix a migraine but dehydration will make one worse. Sometimes Gatorade with the electrolytes helps more than plain water.

My Neuro's PA recomened I take Magnesium, CoQ 10, Butterbur, and Feverfew all of which have helped me

If you have the money for it the Cefaly device helped me a lot. And it no longer requires a prescription. It's an eTNS unit and it's the single strongest nonphatmacutical tool in my tool kit. It's kicked 8-9 pain down to 6-7 pain and it can kill a migraine if you get it on during the prodrome phase. It's worth every penny of the 380 to 450 bucks depending on model. And they're running a sale atm. https://www.cefaly.com/products

I hope this is helpful.

You are simply AMAZING!! I will totally try with the supplements (cause I'm sure I need them too) ASAP! Also, unfortunately I don't have many things in this country, however, I am able to find replacements! The only one I don't think I will be able to buy until I get to travel overseas (cause I don't trust ebay/amazon/etc to deliver such expensive item here) is the Cefaly! But I totally asked a friend in Spain to tell me if they can find it there for me 🥺.

thank you so so much!!! This is not only useful for me, but to all of the people suffering from this shitty condition! Thank u again!! 💖

[unrealcritter]

photophobic dandy ! photophobia iz a condition amongzt fowlbeaztz that greatly amplifiez the strength ov the light within them , cauzed by e%pozure 2 intenze light like supernovaz or very concentrated sunlight (ie , the solar death ray that activated thiz effect in dandy) . thiz weaknezz iz μzed in dandyz battle with lunashko , sending the bird in2 a frantic state , attacking anything and evurrything in a dezpurrate attempt 2 make the conztant f331ing ov staring directly at the sun stop . the only cure fur thiz iz an impossibly dark area or a reverze flashlight

[arcticwanderer]

I’m photophobic myself, if I’m in a dark room and a movie starts flashing shit it feels like someone is physically stabbing my eyeballs. I hate the amount of flashing in media these days because I don’t appreciate feeling like someone is shoving needles into my retinas...

Accommodations for 1 minority group often overlaps with so many other conditions that no one even thought of, with no net loss for people who are not negatively impacted by it. If it’s a minor change, then (imo) you’re an asshole for choosing to not make it.

I just want to be able to see the whole movie/show...

god it feels like lately we have lost so much progress in terms of movies and tv and gaming actually remembering that people with photosensitivity conditions (epilepsy, migraine, etc) exist and that it’s SO FREAKING EASY to not include effects in your media that will send them straight to hell

we went from early 2000s “we are all petrified of another Pokémon Shock incident so let’s be nice to the people whose brains can’t handle the flashes” to “nearly every movie and tv show has a flashing lights warning crowdsourced on social media and games have been so emboldened to not give a fuck that we had a game with a literal seizure inducing machine built in”. I literally do not get to watch anything on launch day anymore unless I think it’s worth the extremely non zero chance of having up to a week of pain so bad it can make me faint.

what the absolute fuck happened??

[californialightworks]

LED Grow Lights for Sensitive Plants: Catering to the Needs of Delicate Species

While LED grow lights have revolutionized indoor gardening, certain plant species are more sensitive to light than others. Sensitive plants require precise care and attention to thrive in indoor environments. In this blog, we will explore how LED grow lights can be tailored to cater to the needs of delicate species, ensuring optimal growth and overall health.

Understanding the Sensitivity of Certain Plants

Photophobic plants, sometimes referred to as sensitive plants, have developed to react more quickly to variations in light intensity and spectrum. When these plants are subjected to poor lighting conditions, they frequently show evident indications of stress or harm. African violets, orchids, peace lilies, and some ferns are examples of delicate plants.

Adjustable Light Intensity

Sensitive plants benefit greatly from LED grow lights with adjustable intensity levels. You can prevent overexposure and light stress by managing the light's brightness. The delicate species can be adapted to artificial light by keeping the light intensity low during the early stages of growth and gradually increasing it as the plant matures.

Proper Light Distance and Coverage

Light burn and other problems can be avoided by keeping the LED grow light at the proper distance from delicate plants. Depending on the plant's individual needs, stage of growth, and level of light, a different distance may be advised. Sensitive plants typically benefit from being put a little bit further away from the light source to reduce stress brought on by too much illumination.

Monitoring Plant Responses

To provide the finest care, it is essential to watch how delicate plants react to LED grow lights. Check the foliage frequently for any symptoms of stress, such as wilting, yellowing, or curled leaves. If any adverse impacts are noticed, adjust the lighting settings accordingly.

Conclusion

Catering to sensitive plants with the best LED grow lights requires attention to detail. Choose the right spectrum, control intensity, maintain proper distance, manage light duration, and monitor plant responses. With care and the right environment, delicate species will thrive beautifully indoors. Happy gardening!

[mimzy-writing-online]

I just wanted to say that it really meant a lot to me to see you talk about visual snow because I’m 18 and have had visual snow for as long as I can remember and it’s always impacted me but my eye doctors have only ever focused on my other eye conditions and have insisted that visual snow isn’t real, I’m also very photophobic and have entopic phenomena often. I wanted to thank you bc I’ve never seen anyone talk about it and it made me feel less alone + is a diagnosis worth it/how do I get one?

I’m sooo so glad I can help! I was 17 when my symptoms got started and doctors completely ignored that symptom.

Is a diagnosis worth it? It depends. A diagnosis can get you accommodations in school and work, but if you have more than one thing wrong with your eyes and that other thing has already been diagnosed you can use that diagnosis to get accommodations.

You don’t need an official diagnosis or a doctors note to get a cane, but you do need medical documentation declaring you legally blind to get a guide dog.

Some schools/programs for the blind might only be accessible with a documented diagnosis but not necessarily all.

There are doctors who specialize in visual snow syndrome. The Visual Snow Initiative has a handful of doctors on their website who they work with (check it out here) including the doctor who diagnosed me, Dr. Terry Tsang. If you want a diagnosis and traveling is possible for you, I recommend going straight to one of them. You can also ask your doctors to check out their website and their research.

I hope this helps and thank you from r reaching out, it made my day

[hag-darling]

If you have a chronic condition that can be eased by doing something such as taking medicine regularly, please do it. Don't stop doing that thing just because it's temporarily unpleasant or you think you're "over" your condition or you won't thing the next episode will be that bad.

I have recurrent corneal erosion. If my eyes get too dry at night, my cornea (the outer layer off the front of the eye) will stick to my eyelid, being ripped off the next time I open my eyes. The pain is immediate, like needles being jabbed into my eyes. It's enough to bring me to my knees as it's a 10 on the pain scale. I also become photophobic, meaning any and all light causes me even more extreme pain. Looking around hurts. Blinking hurts.

The healing process is relatively quick compared to many other injuries, taking just a couple of days to a week or so depending on the severity, but the only immediate (but temporary) pain relief you can get are numbing eye drops from a doctor (who don't normally prescribe this out, you can only get a drop or two while at a doctor's appointment). Often the only medicines they will prescribe out to help with healing are an antibiotic ointment to smear onto your eye (unpleasant) and a saline solution (burns), while for pain they tell you to take ibuprofen or Tylenol. While your eye is healing, your vision is impaired, being so blurry that it's impossible to make out words.

This condition can and will cause permanent eye damage if left unchecked, which shouldn't be surprising as y'know, YOUR CORNEA IS BEING RIPPED OFF.

Do you know what can help prevent these episodes of mine? Lubricating eye drops, which you can get over the counter for around $10 USD. Do you know what I haven't been using, despite having an episode every other month for FIVE YEARS? Yeah. I had a bad episode today that started at 3:30 am, causing me to not sleep, having me miss work, forcing my fiancé to take care of me as I sobbed in bed for hours, and forcing him to bring me to urgent care when I realized the pain wasn't just going to go away on its own.

If I don't start using my eye drops, I could be forced to have surgery on my eye/s to correct the issue. I'm causing myself pain and suffering just because I don't want to put in a single drop of liquid in each eye once a night. It's nonsensical. Please don't be like me and take care of yourselves. Please.

[44-thehearteccentric-44]

Cluck man now you got me thinking about what my blorbo ship's house would look like……

I imagine that if DW Cherub Zoo (I forgot what I called the ship) had a house together, when they have their kid they'd move to an area in Pumpkin Woods, the least terrible town of the dystopian province, where there was a forest nearby with a small pond and settle in a generally rural-to-suburban area, perfect for the upbringing of a little one (which they would both absolutely want, as they both got good (good-ish for Heart) childhoods and would want to replicate it!).

They'd have a four cotroom house, one for the child, one for each of them, and a guest room.

Heart's room would have dark walls and carpeting, with dim lighting to be easy on his sensitive eyes, with purple furniture out of his habit to get purple interior. He'd have an oak desk with a lamp and some books that Mike recommended him and would sit at it for hours, reading away with his headphones on jamming away at some of his favourite OSTs. His cot would be large and like look something you'd see in a princess cartoon; with those tall, twisty curtains rimming it and a luxurious mattress with soft violet sheets and a comforter. He'd have a black nightstand with a drawer he'd keep important things in (mediation, social security, phone chargers, etc.), a footlocker with a bunch of stuff from his childhood, and a corner of his room just dedicated to his musical instruments.

I can totally see him also having one of those cat cots that look like a box with a hole in them, one of those towers as his species have an instinctual desire to curl up in small spaces. They'd be stuffed with pillows, blankets and dragon stuffies, and Mike would regularly have to lure him out with max and cheese.

He'd have Martyr (the child)'s artwork absolutely permeating his walls (Mike's room as well!) and he'd also have a giant dog cot in the corner for Monty as well as a smaller cat cot for Coconut Oil, as the two are best friends in-spite of their… vastly different sizes and level of deadliness.

Mike's room would have muted blue walls with dark grey carpeting. It would be much simpler, as Mike is a simple man; a nice twin-sized cot in the corner, with a birch nightstand where he'd keep his belongings as he slept, a dresser with all his clothes and sketchbooks, more animal cots for his pets and rodent child, a desk where he'd toil away at his sewing, tailoring, drawing, laptop-using, etc. all day, a small television with his gaming consoles, and a closet where untold horrors regularly lurk that he stares into for a moment before going "ah! There's my favourite jacket ||)"

Martyr would have a jungle of a sleeping area with almost parkour to get to his sleeping quarters, as it's healthy to simulate the natural sleeping quarters of a slugcat, a toy box with allllll kinds of things to play with, a closet to keep all his fancy little clothing, and a bookshelf to get his reading brain going as one of his fathers loves to read. I imagine his room would be black and gold themed, as that's what he's most familiar with and he probably does get homesick from Nirvana sometimes.

He'd have countless stuffed animals due to his parents' obsession with them and mayhaps an entire corner just dedicated to the more humongous ones; he'd also have a rocking chair I imagine, simply cos they're just so cool and I've always wanted one. I can see him also having one of those toy car things that you can drive around, cos I imagine Mike and Heart would love the idea of this acidic void-thing going around harassing people for fun.

Their living room would be dim, just as I imagine the entire house would be (two of them are photophobic and one of them can become twice as photophobic under stress), with a nice big sofa and a large flatscreen television where Mike would play games with friends over and Heart would watch the news and study the condition of the province (it's depressing, but it intrigues him). There'd be several consoles that they'd all gather and play together, and the dining room would be merged with the living room; meaning food was just a few steps away!

Their kitchen would be black and not really anything special. I can see there being a poster with the classic CCCC Soul "hang in there" in it.

They'd have a laundry room and a bathroom too, nothing abnormal there.

Their front yard would have a massive garden that Heart toils away at constantly, always busy with bees and attracting animals that Heart would allow to munch on the food of, knowing that it's hard to find a good snack in an urban jungle. They'd likely have a swing set that Heart and Mike would use more often than Martyr cos they're man children. /j

Ahhhhhh this was so fun to think of!!!!! Thank you for the idea I'm IN-LOVE :333333

I have created what C!Tommy and C!Beeduo's houses look like in my head and I wanna draw it but I have zero art skill to do it. Sad day for Tubz nation. anyway, RANT TIME! Tommy's house def looks like a grandma house. Floral patterns, big plushie sofas that sink too far down when sat on, you know it. that built in ugly ass brown carpet that feels lovely on ur feet. tiles of flowers on the kitchen counter tops and nice dark oak wooden cabinets. small ass tv to remind him of simpler times. round door with a little window and curtain for it and the space around it inside the house is tiled and has a welcome mat and a little shoe holder for Clementine, Shroud, and Chat's shoes. A big plush chair in the living room that he knits on. No coffee table between it and the tv so the kids can roll around on the carpeted floor while watching fucking Bluey or sm. Tea sets on display. A "this house voted for pog 2020" and "love is love" signs on the grass outside with a bird bath. Tommy's room is just posters and old flags on every wall. its small and cozy with a huge bed just for him. A sewing station in the corner to sew the kids and his friends sweaters. a drawer with all his clothes stuffed in and various trinkets on the top with a mirror dangerously close to falling off. shit hanging from the ceiling like fake plants and an old lmanburg flag and a trans flag. Overall comfy vibe, imagine like Juno's room from the movie Juno. Thats what I imagine for it idk m just guy. Shroud, Clem, and Chat all share a room cuz its a small house. All their beds are separated into different corners of the room, toys EVERYWHERE and tons a chargers on Chat's corner of the room to charge themself. Lots of cracks on the ceiling from Shroud and Clem somehow getting up their and banging their heads cuz spider and moth you know? I went too insane, ill do the beeduo mansion at some point I love ranting abt this shit rgrgrggrrgrgr

[limear]

A moment where Saiki is asked to take his glasses off (maybe they cracked, or a teacher realises he’s wearing GREEN SUNGLASSES INSIDE because they slip past the hypnotism somehow) and he panics and just says his eyes are photophobic/extremely sensitive to light and now he has to fake a whole ass medical condition

[violetscatsandwitchcraft]

Winter months and expectations

Not everyone hibernates in winter. FOR ONE, and I can’t believe I have to say this, but you’re bitching from a place in the northern hemisphere about people not using this time for meditation and hibernation but for a WHOLE hemisphere it’s summer. Stop assuming everyone is American or Eurocentric.

That said, not everyone’s systems work that way. I am at my most energetic in winter when there’s no sun to drag me down. I am highly allergic to sunlight, am photophobic, and summer is the death of me. I’m not the only one like that.

 Many people in this day and age have conditions and lifestyles that means that they’re reversed and yes, that is against how we expect nature to be, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong for them. 

I have seen a half dozen post in a week going on about how it’s time for hibernation and stop pretending it’s not winter, and accept this is how the world is and stop trying to fight it. 

It would be one thing if these posts were along the lines of: I have to slow myself down but they all come off like those damned three fold law posts insisting everyone listen to this advice. How about instead we acknowledge not everyone is the same. Hell, not even the Earth is the same. 

If you live the wheel of the year with the dates as they’re often published, then go for it. Use this time for introspection and rest, but don’t assume that works for all.

[theheartchoice]

If It Was A Straight Mind You Had

dean/cas  |  teen  |  3k  |  canonverse s7  |  ao3 

for @profoundnet‘s bi-weekly Bot Stat challenge.  prompt issued: July 9th 2019 

Dean is working as intended. Cas does not understand that reference. Sam really wants noise cancelling headphones.

Sam's recovering from his Hell-wall being broken down. Cas is "God" (is dead). Dean's just taking each day as it comes - doesn't mean he's forgotten what came before, the bad and the better. 

Dean's been at it for weeks. Baby's never looked so good, honestly. Probably his best work to date. Too bad the reason why harshens the sun-glare off her windshield so much it hurts, tries to blind him. He's gotta turn away. 

Seems every time Baby gets beat to hell it's Hell itself that's been the cause: Demons T-boned her with a semi. Demons tossed her about like a leaf in a storm - and Cas may not have done the deed but he sure as hell was complicit in the crime. 

Not that there's any sense moanin' about it now; that Cas is gone. Million monsters ate him up from the inside out, so Dean can't even chew him out for it. Can't show him how good Baby looks right now either, despite everything that happened to her, everything Cas did. 

Can't fix what Cas broke between them just as easy. But any chance at that is gone now, too. 

And without the Impala to work on, what's he 'spose to do? Can't kill God, so-called. And not-Cas said he'd leave 'em alone if they did the same, so.. Hunting seems the thing to do, right? Get back on that horse and wrangle some bad guys. 

Except.. there's nothing to hunt. 

Godstiel - or whatever the hell they're calling that thing wearing Jimmy's face these days - snapped 'em all straight to Purgatory. Or they're in hiding, and ain't that a pip: Monsters of all kinds all over the States just as afraid as Sam and Dean and Bobby are of the mutant monster-mash claiming the vacancy of God for itself (themselves?). Now they've got nothin' to distract 'em while the new Big Boss makes its way through the continents one madcap miracle at a time. 

But Dean's not one for being idle, so there's really only one thing left to do. 

He'll start with the classics, obviously. Figure out which old girls could make the most of the parts already in the lot. Settle on a few models to switch between while he figures out what else needs to be tracked down, ordered and delivered. 

Maybe this is what he'll do now. Not just today, or next week, but for the foreseeable future (however not-so-far-off that shifty horizon may be). 

He'll do the work he can do. He'll fix cars, because cars can take new parts and borrowed parts, and they can be salvaged from the scrap heap. Put the time and skill into it and they can be restored to their former glory. Maybe something even better. 

Dean can't fix everything that's broke, everything of his that's been damaged, or everything he's had a hand in screwin' up somewhere down the line. 

But this he can do. 

So, until something else comes along - a case or a clue or a Cas-shaped confrontation - this is exactly what he's gonna do. 

   *  *  * 

  He's fine. 

Well, that might be stretching it. Sam's alive, at the very least. 

He's sleeping pretty well, which seems like nothing short of a miracle. Although, miracles are in strange supply these days. There are no dreams, no nightmares, no nothing - and he'll gladly take a dreamless sleep over one edged in Hellfire. Whatever Dean and Bobby did, whatever old or new magic they managed to cobble together for a cure, it seems to be doing the trick. 

First it was only an hour or so, here and there, staggered and tiring in its own right. Now it's six hours at least, every night like normal. Or some familiar concept of normal. Then again, maybe everything they consider 'normal' is due for re-evaluation, for God walks the earth. 

His memories from Hell aren't.. gone, exactly, but they're no longer eclipsing the rest of his mind. He can still feel them, nestled in his subconsciousness, but they're dormant. Inactive. A snapshot of a subreality filed away for review (not likely to happen any time soon) but which no longer draw power from his soul or torment his psyche - which is what had happened: fear and pain transmuting into a second power feed, which in turn strengthened the nature of the hallucinations, seizing control of Sam's reality. 

But, no more. Like he said, he's.. fine. 

It's not without conditions, understandably, because it's not so much a 'cure' as an ongoing treatment. The heady decoction - and he hesitates to call it a 'potion', though that does seem to be the most appropriate term - helping him along needs to be freshly brewed every seven days and drank on an empty stomach (a personal preference, considering what comes after - though sleep swiftly follows, which seems a small but notable blessing, or..). The ingredients don't seem anything special, so the magic ingredient must be in the.. well, in the magic. The incantation as well as the precise brewing process. 

As for everything else, he's relieved there's nothing to hunt, for right now. Sam's not sure he could handle it physically. Generally speaking, he feels queasy and light-headed much of the time - although that, too, has been easing. A little over a month and he can feel his body regaining strength as his mind regains control. It's slow-going, but it is going. 

There's one notable change, though: his senses. 

They fluctuate between intensified and impaired. Everything from vision and olfactory, to balance and pain reception, which one can imagine the affects on simple daily tasks. 

Of a morning, toothpaste is overwhelming, only to have Dean's three-alarm chilli be tasteless by nightfall. Bobby's staircase is a life-or-death hazard at breakfast, but the towers of books that line the halls and walls and interrupt every floorspace are all too-easy to navigate with his eyes closed by sundown. Proximity to the radiator could result in second-degree burns if he's not visually careful, caused by either reduced thermoception or nocioception. And time spent out in the elements can burn him all the same, with summer's UV rays having ten times the impact on his oversensitised skin, not to mention the sun practically blinding him on photophobic days. 

And Sam's never been one to sleep in the nude, but the rough fibres of all of his clothes are unbearable on allodynic nights (not that lying naked on those old flannel sheets is any better, but at least the material is only on one side of his body). 

Dean had noticed something was out of sorts after just a couple of days. That Sam's stumbling over familiar lumps in the carpeting, loss of balance from the kitchen to the couch, newfound aversion to dental care, sudden inability to read antique lettering, and his intermittent lack of working tastebuds and the contrasting hypergeusia, were all signs pointing towards a problem. 

Sam would've said something first, but Dean beat him to it (apparently, it was the four spoons of sugar in Sam's coffee that cemented it - sugar which turned out to be salt; not that Sam could taste either one, at the time). 

Two hours and a pair of maxed-out old credit cards later, they were geared up: a range of prescription and precision-tinted eyewear, triple-protective UVA, UVB and UVC sunglasses, Mongolian cashmere blankets and sweaters (he'd managed to talk Dean out of the onesie recommended on Amazon, just barely), organic bamboo lyocell bedding, an excessive amount of Tiger Balm, fragrance-free soaps, flavourless toothpaste, industrial quality earplugs, and noise-cancelling headphones - just to name a few. 

All with expedited shipping.

The headphones Dean had questioned the necessity of, what with the earplugs and Sam's regular old earbuds. But Sam insisted - not citing the full truth as to why he needed them, merely hoping his emphatic base reasoning would be persuasive enough: What if the foam of the earplugs doesn't conform to my ear canal, Dean? You know how they are. What if they fit but it's not enough to block out the ambient noise of the world? Sleep-deprivation isn't conducive to mental stability. Numerous studies have shown.. - at which point Dean conceded, if only to spare himself a scientific lecture, adding the Bose to their cart while surreptitiously sliding Sam's coffee mug out of reach. 

Of all the items in their online haul, Sam was looking forward to those headphones in particular. He was especially relieved when they arrived two days later - mere hours before an onset of hyperacusis, which happened to coincide with Dean taking some power tools to a beat-up old Mustang. 

Sam loves his brother. And as far as coping mechanisms go, rebuilding something sure beats destroying it. But when he can hear a bolt drop from a hundred yards away, it's only been thanks to some ingenious padding and a couple of sleeping pills that he was previously able to drown out the noise of Dean working out his frustrations on the Impala. 

He didn't tell Dean he could hear every sound as if it were right outside his door, for obvious reasons. With everything that happened with Cas, everything that's still happening, the last thing Dean needs is to turn to the bottle or the nearest bar. That's the last thing Sam wants for his brother. 

Fortunately, 'sensitive ear days', as Dean calls them, are few and far between compared to the rest - however unpredictable their onset may still be. Even so, despite everything, it's a comfort to know he'll be able to sleep past sunrise without a cacophony of sound parading through his ear canals from the other end of the scrapyard. 

   It's late, and Sam's exhausted.

Today was the first day without a hint of nausea from the potion, and the headaches accompanying his sensory fluctuations finally ceased completely after having eased off a couple of weeks back. His energy reserves are sitting at around seventy five percent, which is a huge improvement from the less than twenty percent he had when he first woke up after.. well, before his first dose of the potion, before it really started to work its magic. In any case, all the sensory yo-yo-ing takes its toll, so it's no wonder he needs no help falling asleep come nightfall. 

After a hyposmic morning and a mostly bearable hyperosmic day, there finally comes that everynight lull in the sensory rollercoaster as Sam readies himself for bed. The new bedding, sleep clothes - oh, and a memory foam mattress as well - are all precautionary measures; he still doesn't know what senses will go wild when, so he prepares for all eventualities: Tiger Balm and odour-filter mask sit alongside his charged pair of wireless Bose, all waiting to be called into action from the bedside table. Blackout curtains are fitted to all the windows, and incandescent lightbulbs fitted in every room of the house - on a dimmer, thanks to Dean's own handiwork. 

Not knowing if his eyes or ears will want to murder his phone for waking him, he foregoes the alarm and simply drinks the two glasses of water required to wake him naturally, a reasonable hour after sunrise. 

He has a system, and it works. With Dean and Bobby helping him through each day and with the potion slowly taking that need away as he regains his psychological and physical strength, if things keep advancing as well as they have been the end is in sight. 

Sam's half-beneath the covers when he decides it might be best to put the earplugs in now, since they'll save him from a potentially unpleasant wake-up call in the middle of the night from any number of worldly noises, when a high-pitch tone deafens him out of nowhere - ears popping with the sound, room spinning. 

Palms pressed tight to his ears and suddenly horizontal, he reaches for the Bose―when the tone cuts out as abruptly as it had cut in. The room stills. Just that one brief moment of chaos before everything settles and is.. fine, apparently? 

His hearing, however, isn't so quick to follow. The background noise of the world comes to him garbled, muted, like he's underwater. Maybe his eardrums have burst? But before he can think to panic about a possible non-temporary loss of hearing, the watered distortion thins and the sounds dry out. 

A cupboard door opening; softly closing. A sniffle, a swallow, a shift of clothing against the kitchen counter - a piece of cloth catching on that chip in the counter edge near the coffee-maker, a sigh.. Crap. He knows that sound, that sigh. Knows it so well his stomach drops down into the puddle of potion still working its way through his digestive tract. 

That's Dean. He can hear Dean - from two hallways down and away, through the sound-proofed door of his room. Those are definitely Dean's Timberlands on the linoleum downstairs. Except.. it doesn't hurt to hear it, which is new and intriguing and raising questions Sam's tired body doesn't want to investigate right now. He continues to lay still and listen instead. 

Dean's moving quietly, the kind of soft-stepping of someone who either doesn't want to disturb or doesn't want to be heard, but the sounds are crisp and obvious to Sam's heightened ear: out the back door, over the gravel, gnats throwing themselves against the zapper, Impala door barely whispering a creak as it opens (the rear left door, and maybe his chest swells with a small wave of pride at recognizing that) but Sam hears it loud and clear anyway. 

His hyperacusis has never been like this before. His sensory changes, until now, have been extreme nuisance, not improvement. But, somehow, this feels.. manageable. 

He doesn't need to block the input in any way; It's not painful or overwhelming. Sound is.. amplified, but not all-encompassing. And while he can hear the slow drip of the bathroom faucet in the upstairs bathroom and what his ear knows is Bobby shuffling around in his slippers, he finds he can narrow the focus of his ear just by trying, like an aural squint. 

The distinct impact of water droplets on porcelain fades along with the rubber soles of Bobby's well-worn slippers against the floorboards down the hall. 

Sam hones his ear: downstairs, outside, in the carport adjoining the north wall of the house, he hears his brother's voice - in recorded form - along with the shift of leather in the Impala's back seat, and the tilt and swim of a liquid in an angular bottle. 

There are definitely things about his brother's life Sam doesn't want to know and definitely never wants to hear (again, in some cases). Some of it's actually scarring and best averted (because he has enough scars as it is), but some of it's simply too personal. 

It's not about keeping secrets. It's about respecting privacy. Dean wouldn't want him - or anyone - to know certain things about him, to eavesdrop on his private thoughts, essentially. Because from the aural evidence, Sam knows (or at least, he can make an educated guess) one thing his brother is thinking (or feeling) is that he misses Cas. 

   *  *  *

  It's stupid. Dean doesn't know why he kept it, but he did. And.. maybe he's glad. Because Cas is long-fuckin'-gone no matter what Sam and Bobby say - but he's still right here. And Dean can't help watchin', can't help hearin', can't help but loop the damn thing 'til his half bottle of jack is good n' drained and he can't see straight enough to make out Cas' face - but he knows it, can see it clear on the inside of his lids. And Cas' damn voice is one he'll never forget, even for trying. Because no human could possibly sound like that. None could even come close. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Makin' a movie." If the thought of Sam piping up with some nerd-alert comment or even freakin' looking at Dean with any hint of a joke right now hits him where it hurts, well. No-one's the wiser if he just shoves that feeling away - even if Cas is staring right at him. "Just stand there n' look pretty." The phone pans to Cas' right, capturing the levelled gas station beyond the police barricade. 

Cas had already explained what happened here, sure. But it can't hurt to have a little Angel A-bomb-aftermath on tape for the future. Never know when this sorta thing might come in handy. Best to keep it under the radar, too, just in case Raphael's got eyes nearby. 

Or, whatever. Any excuse to get Castiel - badass Angel of the Lord - looking very much out of his element (which is kinda perfect) as he holds the pose Dean helped him strike: one hand up, fingers paired with space between. If anyone sees them they'll just think they're a couple of conspiracy nutjobs. 

It's freakin' ridiculous. But sometimes in the middle of do-or-die it's this kinda stupid crap that's necessary just to keep folks sane. It's putting a smile on Dean's dial, anyway. 

He zooms in on the blast shadow for a moment before lowering his phone with a signal to Cas. "Alright Nimoy, that's a wrap." 

"I.. don't understand that reference." 

And if a certain someone were here right now Dean wouldn't've even made the reference. Hell, he wouldn't've chosen Spock in the first place. There're just some things you don't want your little brother knowing about you because those things have the potential to wind up as ammo for future battles in a time-honoured prank war. 

But.. he's not here, so.. there's no use hiding. 

"Tell ya what. When all this is over we're gonna have ourselves a little Star Trek marathon." They begin the short walk back to Baby, Cas falling into step beside him. "We'll start with the original, o' course. And I know you don't need to sleep, but probably still a good idea to make a week of it, spread 'em out a bit."

"What exactly is, Star Trek?" 

Coming to a stop at Baby's passenger side Dean takes a breath, considering. He faces Cas head-on, "It's one of the greatest television shows ever made―" and raises his finger in warning, "―and if you ever tell anyone I said that, I will deny it." 'Nuf said. 

Whatever Cas was gonna say next reroutes when something between them catches his eye, steals his attention. "Is that red light a warning of some kind?" 

Following his gaze down, Dean finds it fixed on the phone in his hand - which is still recording. "Sonuva―" 

The clip cuts out―only to cut right back in a half second later as it plays again from the beginning. 

Head tipped back, eyes loose on the Impala's dark ceiling, he can see Cas standing in that dead patch of grass, squinting against the sun. 

What was with that damn squint, anyway? Not like he needed to do it..

As interrogations go, it's not the first thing Dean'd ask if he got the chance. And if things were different, if things weren't so screwed to hell and they had another shot, maybe he'd extend that invite again, set aside a few days to educate a millenia-old celestial being on the genius of one Gene Roddenberry. 

Still not top priority though. 

The only question Dean needs answered is why that stubborn ass of an Angel didn't come to him for help, why he joined forces with the damn King of Hell, why he chose a freakin' demon over a friend - friends don't pull that kinda crap!

In the end, the Apple Pie Life wasn't worth the trade. Fuck.. Dean knew that from the jump. It was hard enough knowing Sam was sulfer-side all that time, and then to come out of it learning he was actually topside and fuckin' soulless - but that ain't Sam's fault. Fact is, Cas had every opportunity to talk to Dean, to ask for help - and Dean would've, in a heartbeat. 

It's not like he told Cas never to stop by. The guy took off before he could tell him it wasn't outta the question. And the whole lack-of-prayin' thing was Dean's choice since he didn't need Cas, didn't wanna bother him.

But finding out Cas needed him, and never said..

The empty bottle drops into the footwell, recorded voices rambling, a tight fist pressing the warmed casing of the phone to his forehead, hard enough to leave marks. 

Cas made a choice. It was the wrong damn one, but it was his to make. Dean couldn't've known. This is on Cas. 

So why does he feel like he failed him? 

It was one damn thing after another: Cas steered clear of Dean, chose the darkest path to wander down. A sheep heading for slaughter and thinking it's freedom. Dean could've helped steer him straight. 

First Dean, then Sam, followed by a wayward Angel on the highway to Hell. 

Bad decisions are catching. 

"... When all this is over …"

It is over.

It's done. Cas brought his own hide to the Devil's market and monsters took their fill. Now they all gotta live with the consequences, gotta live 'em without Cas, and Dean's gotta live with knowing he could've saved him, if only he'd been given the chance.

But this life ain't about giving. It takes, and it breaks, and sometimes it even dares you to care - more than you wanted to, more than you ever thought possible. It shows you things you want that you know you can't have. Doesn't mean you want 'em any less.

Helluva prank. But as any Hunter worth their salt knows, this is a cruel world.

There's no comin' back from this, from what Cas did to himself. Maybe they can take down this mutant-God—maybe. They gotta try, at least, because that's what they do: find a way, somehow, no matter what, right? Pull a miracle outta their ass in the final play. That's what they do best.

But for right now, Dean's got no idea how they'll manage this one. Sam's on the mend, sure, but they're still down a guy.

Things are different, now. Things are never gonna be the same again.

[karathraces]

Sorry if this is too personal of a question. You don't have to answer it if you want to. What's it like being photophobic?

I don’t mind at all! The short answer: Inconvenient and frustrating! 

I’m very lucky to live in a country with a national health service (which I’m very scared of losing!) as someone with other eye conditions that need treatment. The short side is, because my sensitivity to light isn’t threatening my eyesight, they shrug it off and left me to deal with it on my own.

It impacts daily life because I simply can’t stand natural light. I can’t open my eyes fully in sunlight unprotected, I can’t appreciate nature or the even the sky (which I miss gazing at a lot). I have a big skull and sunglasses don’t usually fit me very well, lol. I’m currently clinging to an old broken pair which definitely don’t have the protection they should. 

I have blankets and sheets over my windows/curtains! Several. This still gets blamed on my mental illness, when in reality even black out curtains don’t offer the comfort I need: my windows are slightly sunken in, so all the light creeps out the edges. I have two rooms in my flat covered with sheets and blankets: my living room and where I sleep. The rest of the flat I just squint and deal with it because I understand it looks gloomy and is miserable even for me. 

I can’t use technology without outdated apps. I use an old dimmer which hasn’t been updated and is breaking a bit more with every windows update. I suffer with migraines and constant visual auras and flashing which I assume, naturally, are linked. 

[beenpole]

reminder that marcie is ALWAYS wearing sunglasses in her new vegas verse unless they are inside a poorly lit room, or a cave or something. she’s photophobic due to the conditions in her vault, so her eyes are not something people usually see. even in her photos. 

[kawa-kagon-blog]

LFRP- Kawa Kagon

The Basics:

Age: 20

Birthday: 11th Sun of the First Astral Moon (2/10)

Race: Au Ra (Xaella)

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bi/Asuexual

Relationship Status: Single

Physical Appearance:

Hair: Black with highlights that she changes on a whim, usually put into a simple ponytail or let loose

Eyes: Dark Blue/Violet

Height: 5′3

Build: Slim/Muscular

Distinguishing Features: Pale skin covered in faded battle scars. Dark blue scales and horns. Usually wears a flower in her hair

Personal:

Profession: Samurai, Hunter, Leatherworker

Hobbies: Hunting, Sparring, Drinking, Tavern Hopping

Languages: Traditional Xaelic, Doman, Eorzian Common

Residence: Vagabond; Caves and tents

Birthplace: Azim Steppe

Patron Deity: Nhaama

Fears: Failure, Death, Semi-Photophobic

Relationships:

Significant Other: None

Children: None

Parents: Khalja Kagon (Father), Yesugen Kagon (Mother)

Siblings: None

Pets: None

Traits:

Extroverted

Disorganized

Close Minded

Calm

Agreeable

Reckless

Impatient

Outspoken

Leader

Empathetic

Optimistic

Traditional

Lazy

Cultured

Loyal

Faithful

RP Hooks:

Huntress: Kawa earns a living through the hunting of beasts, be it from Eorzia or The Far East. She runs a traveling hide shop, selling her wares in whatever city the winds have taken her to. She even takes on custom orders...for a price!

Bathed in Moonlight: Following her tribe’s condition, Kawa would rather be caught dead than in the Sun. As such, the only daytime spottings of her would be in a tent, cave, or some building without windows or with the shutters closed.

Here One Day, Gone the Other: This Au Ra rarely stays put for more than a few days at maximum. It’s hard to kick the roaming tendencies of her people, and customers are more likely to pay more if the goods are available for a limited time only! That’s only an afterthought, of course...

OOC Info:

Discord: D1nK#9258

Server: Jenova

IGN: Kawa Kagon

Preference: In game, although I have no qualms with Discord RP.