#exercising while chronically ill

[enbycrip]

I’ve not been posting about various stuff I’ve been doing over the last few weeks for various reasons - partially sheer exhaustion, partially a sort of weird holdover of “not wanting to go on about things because that’s performative” thing, partially that, tbh, much of the time when I’m posting I’m so *tired* that dragging complicated things about my own life out is so emotionally taxing and difficult that posting about them feels like a spoon hit I don’t have the capacity available to absorb.

But that’s probably not helpful. So here we are. Post One is going to be about the rehab programme because that’s been one of the main focuses of my time and energy since November.

I’m in the last week of my initial free 12-week chronic joint pain rehab programme at Nuffield Health, which has meant free membership there with specific classes which include exercise and also a whole bunch of advice on things that are supposed to affect pain. I’ve found it - complex but overall positive?

- It’s a rolling programme so when I first joined I was with a whole bunch of older women near the end of their programmes. That was really difficult for gender reasons, feeling maybe this wasn’t aimed at me at all etc etc. It became much more positive as they rolled off and a much more diverse group of folk in gender and age rolled on with me, and I’m honestly going to miss my peers in this. I’m still the youngest in the group, and I’ve not talked about gender in it because honestly that’s spoon-heavy, but it’s been a lot less difficult genderfeels-wise than I initially feared. I have been wearing my pronoun badges at least. I’d love some more Pride and non-binary-specific gym gear - please feel free to link any you know out there from ethical companies; I suspect a lot of it may be beyond my price range, but saving up exists.

- My initial health check showed I had put on a *lot* more weight than I thought, so I’ve been doing my best to utterly revamp my diet and how much sugar I was eating in particular as a maladaptive way to manage fatigue. My next health check is on Thursday after my last class and I’m trying *really* hard not to hope that I’ve lost tons of the weight because a) weight is not an indicator of health or worth b) I’ve been doing a LOT of weights work over that time and it’s entirely possible I’ve acquired a lot more muscle. This would be a very good thing. Trying to manage all of this and getting to a better way of eating with the old ED demon on my shoulder has been *complex* AF tbh. I do actually really need to thank person-centred therapy, many years in the disabled community in general, and FatDoctor and other people in the fat-positive community, esp the trans part, for this not fucking up my head more than it has. I should probably drop my old therapist a personal email to thank her for the help she was to me on this - is that a weird thing for an ex-patient to do? Does that cross boundaries?

- The “general advice on things that are supposed to reduce pain” bit was a barrier for me because it brings up so much trauma about pain clinics and other medical BS about pain over the last decade plus. The fact that it’s ten minutes before exercise has helped; not enough time to build up anger and then physical activity to release it. It’s also helped that we’ve had a lot of group discussions and almost everyone there is chronically ill or chronically injured so it’s been sharing experiences of the genuine systemic life problems that come with that and a *lot* of discussions about how unhelpful the wider medical system has been. Patient solidarity is helpful. Who’d have thunk it? 😜

- I’ve had to *keep* fighting my own “ADHD extremes” personality tendencies all the way through this, as I have through much of the last decade plus. I am *bad* at not throwing myself at things I’m trying to really engage with, y’all. I am *bad* at sensible moderation. It’s not how my brain works at *all*. But I’ve only had one sublaxion and one POTS collapse in the entire programme, and I am fucking proud of myself for that.

- That notwithstanding, this has been A Lot, esp as one of the classes is on a Thursday, the day I see my brother. I don’t talk about him on social media a lot because he is nonspeaking and can’t consent to me sharing stuff about him, but getting weekly contact with him again has been incredibly important to me, and to him, from what he has communicated to me. It’s also high-energy and sometimes exhausting, when he is having a particularly high-energy day, or a tough day, and means cleaning up afterwards. Given how often much less high-energy social contact just kicks the shit out of me, I’m really proud that I’ve missed very few days with him, but it has been *exhausting*. I have spent every Wednesday and most weekends since starting the programme entirely in bed, just crawling to the bathroom, and even with that I am *still* just bone-deep exhausted right now, though I think some of that is still fallout from the *great* weekend away we went to for a friend’s 50th a fortnight ago, of which I *still* spent much too much time in bed.

- I think that, no matter how hard I tried not to, I let myself somewhat entertain the idea that this programme might utterly transform my health if I put enough work into it. Because no matter how hard I try not to, it’s *difficult* not to get sucked into the prevailing medical orthodoxy about fatigue disorders that a big part of the fatigue is “deconditioning” and fixing that will fix the fatigue. Instead, I’m doing a thing that is genuinely helping my mobility but any effect on fatigue levels is very much on the “increasing” scale than otherwise, despite the level of pacing involved (which is the only thing that lets me do anything at all). So after the classes end I am going to be in the space where I need to keep on doing this to keep the mobility improvements and the long-term effects on my health (particularly re reducing my huge osteoporosis risk) and that is going to be *tough*. Some of it will help, esp re the flexibility to pace around other things I’m doing, but making sure I *keep* doing this when it’s going to mean keeping on having to ask my dad for lifts to the gym and the level of exhaustion involved is going to be *tough*. Going to do my best to keep up with other group people there in the hope that will help.

- Doing this at a time when, frankly, Labour is increasing attacks on disability support is extra-scary. I am *really* afraid any improvements in mobility etc will be read as “well you’re cured then” as opposed to “you’re improving prospects for your longer term health and increasing your capacities in certain ways but the work it takes to do and maintain that has at best huge knock-on effects on the energy, including the cognitive energy, available to do anything else with”. The proposed cuts to Access To Work mean any work I can ever get is even more going to have to be remote, which is scary too. The way disability is continually viewed in such zero-sum, capitalist-centered ways continues to just sap my energy across the board, and I’ve got so little to start with.

[primrosebitch]

Tbh it really is something to have grandmothers (one late 70s other late 80s) who are in better shape than you are, like I go see my grandma and we walk somewhere and i'll be panting before she's even slightly out of breath and it's not like she's in the best of conditions either, and then don't even get me started on my other grandma, she still does sports.

[toomanyacronyms]

I love that I have to Google heat exhaustion symptoms for my shift at work tomorrow because none of my bosses believe me when I say cannot physically walk/move for 4-5 hours straight without moderate/severe symptoms. One of them "promised I won't get heat stroke" but I'm still at a higher risk of heat exhaustion!

I'm getting a doctor's note next week at my appointment. I might not have a job after I give it to my job but I think I'm okay with that. They've been trying to get me to quit for the last year and a half anyways.

[capetowncapers]

American Psycho morning routine monologue but it’s just all the shit chronically ill peeps do every day to try to appease our bodies.

[meowingcreach]

My partner got an exercise bike so i have been trying to get like 30 minutes in every second day. It feels really good? I think I'm sleeping better? My appetite is better? I'm more energetic? Who would have thought exercise was good for you.....

[moss-opossum]

I've been working out consistently for just over a decade now. For the past three or so years, I've been exercising 5-6 days per week while not recovering from surgery, migraines, or injuries.

I love exercise, it does so much for me; it has been the only thing I could enjoy in the darkest times of my life; and on days where I exercise first thing in the morning, my chronic illness symptoms are mitigated.

However, I spend a LOT of time worrying about which little pains and clicks are going to turn into big ones, how I can adapt my normal routine when something is hurting worse than usual. I'm lucky I'm able to exercise, because it really does mean a lot to me, but I really need to be so careful monitoring my pain every single day so I can work out again the next day, too.

When you're mentally ill or physically disabled, exercise is one of the first things many doctors ask about, as though it's some sort of panacea. While I don't recall the exact onset for many of my health issues, a lot of them showed up or worsened well after I'd been exercising regularly for several years. Exercise didn't save me from that.

Is it a good habit to have? Yes, but that doesn't make it a universal magic pill, and it's not even accessible to everyone who does want to do it. Don't treat it like it's for everyone and like it'll cure all your ills. It's just another potential tool that will help some people and hurt others; and like for any treatment or prophylactic, it should be used in conjunction with other methods.

[no-144444]

guilt tripping- o.piastri

summary: oscar asks something of you that you know you can't do. you do it anyway and it ends in you two almost breaking up. almost.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! chronic illness! reader

a/n: hey yall, I just broke two ribs (lol) and got diagnosed with a chronic illness (lmao) so I might not be posting as frequently- just dealing with it physically and mentally so yah 😹

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“I don’t know if I can go,” you sighed, feeling even worse. 

“That’s alright,” he assured you, but you could hear the way his excitement depleted and his mood lowered. 

“M-maybe I can work something out, I don’t want to leave you alone,” your guilt grew everyday, this wasn’t healthy for either of you. 

“I don’t want you over-exerting yourself,” he spoke softly into the phone. “I’ll just ask mum if she has any friends that want to go or something. She always brings a million people with her.”

“I don’t want to leave you hanging Oscar. Melbourne is a big race. I’d be happy to come over like a week before, and then come to the race once I’ve had a few days to heal,” you bargained. A 22 hour connecting flight was not something you’d ever wanted to do. You couldn’t do it. You knew the pain would be too bad, yet you still stood there, offering it anyway. “And then I’d come for the race on Sunday, or just small bits on all the days.”

“Really?” his voice picked up, excited now. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure Osc, I love seeing you race,” your smile was more of a grimace than anything, but still, the guilt in your chest lessened as you listened to Oscar speak animatedly about the race weekend, while your anxiety ran through the roof. You couldn’t do all the things he wanted you to do, you never could. This had been a problem at the beginning of your relationship, every time he’d plan a date that wasn’t dinner or a movie, you’d have to break the news that a 15 kilometre hike wasn’t something you’d be able to do on a whim. Things like that took planning, physio, and preparation. Your chronic illness was no joke, and had limited you since you were a teenager. In the past few years he’d gotten much better at everything, from helping you with your physio exercises, attending pilates classes with you, knowing what to do on bad pain days, and always looking out for you in public. You knew he was just getting away with himself, and you didn't want to disappoint, so you agreed to it all, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be a bad week of pain or flare-ups wise. 

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You got into Melbourne and sobbed when you got in the car. Thankfully, it was Hattie picking you up, so she just held your hand as you silently cried, the joint and too much to bear. You went straight to bed as Hattie explained to the rest of the house that you were exhausted, and Oscar took it at face value. You usually get extremely tired after long days, and you’d just had a 22-hour day of travel. 

“I’ll go check on her-” he started, desperate to see you but Hattie cut him off. 

“NO!” she squeaked, trying to not sound suspicious. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “She’s really tired and she’s already gone to sleep.”

“Yeah, well I’m tired so I’m going to bed,” he explained, stretching then yawning. 

“Osc,” Hattie sighed, knowing she had to tell him. “She’s not… alright. She can’t do 22 hour travel days like you or I can. She has Lupus and she’s still trying to figure out her medication, so it hurts all the time. She cried from the airport to here, all to support you because you asked her to, and she feels guilty every single time she can’t say yes. She’s done real damage to herself by coming here. I want you to understand that, do you understand that?” 

Oscar nodded, because the other option was breaking down into tears. Yes, he’d felt guilty that he couldn’t be there to take care of you while travelling, and he knew he was asking a lot of you when he asked. The guilt settled deep in his stomach and made him nauseous, but still he continued on to his bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. He could see the puffy eyes, the red nose, the open bottles of medication on the nightstand. He wrapped an arm around your waist, another in your hair and pulled you as close as possible, whispering teary sorrys into your ear. 

When you woke up the next morning, you knew what you had to do. This wasn’t fair on either of you, and you needed to make a change. You quickly (but silently) got up, and started to leave the room, but Oscar grabbed ahold of your hand before you could leave. 

“Please don’t sneak out on me,” he begged, sitting up. He looked wrecked, puffy eyes, red rose- had he been crying? God, had you made him cry? 

“Osc, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern clear as day on your face as you cupped his face with your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I knew I was asking too much when I asked you to come here, I’m so sorry.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. “Osc, I’m alright, I was just tired last night and-”

“Hattie told me,” his voice was deep, deeper than usual, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. “And I’m so sorry.”

“Osc, I could’ve said no if I didn’t think I was able for it,” you tried to reassure him but he shook his head. 

“Y/n, you did say no and I didn’t take it as an answer,” he scoffed. 

You were stunned into silence. “I think we need to have a talk about us, Osc.”

He nodded, taking your hands in his. 

“This isn’t fair on you. I know I can't control my illness, and neither can you. It sucks, but it’s a fact. I wish I could be there for every single race and cheer you on with the other girls, but I can’t. It’s not in the cards for me right now, and I don’t know when it will be. Oscar, I love you so much, and you’ve been with me through everything and I know you deserve someone who can always be there for you, and I’m not that person right now. I love you but I know it’s not enough,” You finally looked at him and he was biting his lip as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and stood up, dropping your hands as he paced his bedroom. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asked and you nodded as you held back more tears. “So you know that I still feel your support even when we’re in different time zones or on different continents, right? You know that I value you being in as little pain as possible more than being at the barricade after a race, right? You know that I fucking love you more than I love racing, right? Y/n, I’ve been here the entire time, since we were 14 years old. You’re the reason I get in the car, you make me better, all the time it’s just you. I plan on being with you for my whole life, Y/n. I want to be there for everything. I plan to sit there through every appointment about medication until you find the one that actually helps you, I plan on being there for every day where you don’t feel up to it, I plan on being there for you, always. I never want to let go of you, and yeah, it is nice to be able to see you after a race, and I know that because fucking facetime exists. If you still want to break up because I fucked up by asking you to come here, go ahead, but don’t ever think that I’m without because I’m with you. I am so in love with you, Y/n. I mean it. I want to marry you one day, I want a family with you, I want to be old with you so we get to reminisce on the good ol’ days and make some more while we have time. ‘The good ol’ days’ will be the days I spend with you. More than any race win, more than any trophy, or than anything. My favourite part about a race weekend is coming home because I know no matter what my result was, you’ll be there with open arms, loving me anyways. You’re more than enough for me.”

You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, crying into his hoodie as he held you. “I love you too.”

After a few moments of both of you calming down, he finally spoke. “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?” he asked, wiping his eyes. 

You nodded, a small smile on your face. “I can, can you forgive me for being such an idiot?”

He chuckled. “You’re no idiot,” he picked you up and gently placed you back on the bed lying beside you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[sun-ashes]

College teacher Lan Qiren who is always complaining about this loud, annoying and disruptive student in his class who is always half asleep on his desk and submits his assignments four seconds before the deadline.

His nephew Lan Wanji, who is in the same class, who can't believe how attracted he is to this hot mess of a man that seems to be physically incapable of not questioning every single subject they learn and makes such good points about them every time. How is it possible for a person seemingly can't dress, feed OR control himself in public be so smart? It would be less annoying if this dude at least took notes or had books, but no, he seems to be doodling on actual craft paper every time he peeks at him. Lan Wanji wants him carnally. And maybe romantically as well. He looks like a good cuddler, you know? Not that LWJ knows much about hugs and all that.

Meanwhile, there is college student, part time worker and full time single parent Wei Wuxian that is constantly running on two hours of sleep, who is working himself to the bone on his engineering degree along with Wen Qing (med student) to provide for Wen Yuan, chronically ill Wen Ning, ancient Granny and half a dozen old aunties and uncles that would (and should) have retired decades ago if they could afford it.

Now imagine the Lans' car breaking down in some speedy neighborhood after dining out, and who comes to the rescue? Just-got-out-of-work WWX, who would try his hand at the engine if they weren't shaking like crazy but assures them that his uncle four will get it going in a sec, want to follow him home so they are not in the street alone?

And so the Lans get to see this twenty years old exhausted young man get home, get immediately jumped by his toddler, and going to help with dinner while simultaneously checking over A-Yuan's homework, answering Grannie's questions about his day and helping WN with mobility exercises.

Lan Qiren becomes more forgiving. Lan Wanji falls in love and has to reconsider his own prejudices before approaching Wwx and asking him out on a study date that quickly becomes an engagement. Lan Xichen becomes besties with Granny and is there every Sunday. He and Wen Qing may fall in love. A-Yuan gets a whole new set of family members.

The car? It was actually fine. It just ran out of battery.

[peachii-nitenite]

Much Needed Support (sfw-suggestive content) Part 1

JayVik x Reader Ramble

Idea: You’ve been overworking. Your aches and pains worsen by the day, and you can’t seem to tough it out like you used to… there’s only two people you really trust to help. 4.8k wordcount

Content: reader with feminine pronouns, sexual tension, fluff, partial nudity, boys getting shy about said nudity, mutual pining, self-doubt, idiots in love, getting sick, friends to lovers, discussions on medical neglect, mentions of chronic pain, descriptions of chronic pain (slightly implied hand kink???)

Very self indulgent selfiship coded x reader with a reader with scoliosis and joint issues to help me deal with feelings about own deterioration and struggles with findin a doc who’ll listen lol 🥲

Side note- this ended up much longer than I originally planned 😅 so this might end up being like 3 parts with MAYBE some spice ^v^

-You are a student at the academy in the arts and humanities department, a year below Jayce and Viktor, and you have worked your ass off to get here.

-You and Viktor have always gotten along; you were both from Zaun, both scholarship students, and both passionate about your work.

-Viktor introduced you to Jayce shortly after they partnered up, and the three of you become nearly inseparable.

-despite not even sharing a major, you found yourself in the lab during most of your free time, bantering and tossing ideas around, or sometimes quietly working on your own projects.

-for as long as Viktor’s known you, you’ve been energetic and passionate, but recently you’ve been acting a bit differently. Quieter, more despondent. You visited less frequently, and you seemed constantly exhausted.

-the change was gradual, how you seemed a bit more sluggish, had been walking a bit more slowly, movements a bit more calculated. And then one day, you tripped on the stairs while heading to the lab, a sharp pain having shot through your knee.

-you shrugged it off, insisting that you were fine and that it was just a bit slippery, but both of them could tell something was up.

-Jayce was actually the first to notice: how you constantly adjusted your gait, how you would wince at times when standing up, how you consistently had to correct your posture. Something was causing you pain, and you were trying to hide it.

-you were stubborn, and fiercely independent, and as such they were deterred from prying too much

-Viktor was the one who pointed out another clue: your clothes were always long and baggy, as if you were trying to hide something bulky beneath it. He could have even sworn seeing you looking a bit longer than usual at his leg brace one morning.

-in spite of how stubborn you were, they still cherished you greatly. which meant they could not allow you to go on like that,

-and all while they were brainstorming how to breach the topic, you were getting worse.

-the pain made it hard to sleep, the dull aching of the muscles around your spine needling you awake any time you began to drift off. You could feel you knees grinding and creaking with every step up the stairs. Your homemade remedies and exercises could only do so much to help, and you can only take so many pain pills a day.

-you were sick of being dismissed by upper city doctors, who claimed you were “too young” to have such issues, or chalked it up to stress or poor exercise. You had been dealing with these things since you were a child. But you were always told when you grew up, you would get better; stronger even. Now in your twenties, you look back bitterly, having only gotten weaker.

-you had a pair of simple, worn out compression braces for your knees. It had been patched and reinforced so many times that they were god awful to look at, not to mention the embarrassment you felt simply having to keep using them after all this time. They were easily covered up by the long skirts and baggy pants you usually wore.

-aside from that, you had an old, ill fitting corset that you used to attempt some semblance of support for your back. But it was all becoming too much. You had to get help, and soon, before it got even worse.

-as much as you didn't want to burden them, you had no other ideas left.

-right when you came to visit, both of them were already there, discussing the situation.

-perhaps it was the fatigue that made you finally cave, or maybe it was the longing to feel less alone in your pain. Regardless, you found yourself shuffling into the lab with all the energy of a cadaver.

—

“Is it really our place to ask though? If she’s being secretive, maybe there’s a deeper reason…” Jayce was pacing, tossing ideas back and forth in his head. “I mean, isn’t it a bit rude to just…ask out of the blue?” He sighs. “You may have a point, but we know her, Jayce” Viktor rose from his seat, interrupting the path of his partner’s pacing to place a reassuring hand on his arm.

“I…I know, I just-“

He was cut of by the sound of the door creaking open. Speak of the devil.

You looked tired, dark circles much more prominent than usual, and there seemed to be a touch of…anxiety?

“…hey guys. Been a minute.” You smiled weakly as you walked toward them. They looked between each other, as if trying to will the other to say something first. But before either of them could, you spoke up.

“I….you know I hate to ask but… I need your help”

“Of course! You know we’d do anything to help you out, what’s wrong?” Jayce pipes up, smoothly steering you toward a chair. Viktor quietly observes how you slump in relief, despite your posture remaining oddly stiff.

“I…well, uh….” You hang your head and sigh, as you struggle to get the words out “…do you know any good doctors? Preferably unbiased ones?” You muster a dry chuckle. They both furrow their brows in concern. “Of course, but what seems to be the issue?” Viktor chimes in, coming over to stand closer to you. You sigh, eyes once again lingering on his brace and his cane. “It…well it may just be easier to show you.”

You adjust yourself in the chair, and begin pulling up the hem of your long skirt. The two men freeze- you can tell they’re caught off guard by their faces as you do, and you can’t help but laugh a little. You bunch it up in your lap and their eyes land on your patchwork braces. Viktor’s eyes soften sympathetically, and you look away.

“…how long?” He steps closer to get a better look, and the proximity flusters you a bit. Jayce, follows suit, kneeling in front of you. You can them actively going into scientist mode, as you affectionately called it; eyes scanning and assessing your handiwork- or rather, the *failure*of your handiwork. You hesitate with your answer for a moment, eyes flitting between your two friends. There was nothing but sincere concern in their eyes, and you almost felt a bit guilty for not talking to them sooner.

“…not really sure, probably since I was a kid…but it’s only been getting worse. The damn things barely seem to work these days” you grumble, shifting your weight in discomfort. “And I…well I’d show you my back brace too but uh…that can probably wait” you trailed off, face getting warm at the mere thought of having to take your shirt off in front to the two men. You almost swore you saw a tinge of pink to Viktor’s ears as he cleared his throat, but perhaps it was just the light.

“Well, we’re not doctors….but if you don’t mind, would you let us have a closer look?” Jayce asks earnestly as he looks up at you, and you nod. He quickly clears a spot for you on the work table, and gestures for you to hop up. You hesitate for a moment, wearily eyeing the two of them before situating yourself on the table.

If there’s one thing to be said about those two, it’s that they’re efficient. After having you remove your old braces, they immediately set to work sketching, brainstorming, and most importantly- assessing your condition. They ask you more about your condition: is the pain sharp or dull? What tasks or activities aggravate it? How long has it been worsening? Do you take any medications for the pain? Do you have a diagnosis?

Much to your embarrassment the answers were difficult to muster. Most doctors topside would scoff, say you looked healthy enough and that you were too young for such issues, and send you on your way without so much as an exam. “Perhaps you aren’t active enough” or “it’s likely just stress” were the most common responses. This much attention being paid toward you was…odd almost. Refreshing, comforting even, but odd nonetheless.

“Y'know, for a while I was convinced I was just being dramatic… that’s what my last doctor said anyways. So it’s nice to be taken seriously for once!” You beamed as Viktor took notes. At those words, however, his pencil abruptly stopped. Jayce also looked up from the diagram he was sketching with a furrowed brow.

“I’m sorry…your doctor said what?” Viktor inquired, his tone tight and clipped. It quickly dawned on you that you had never seen him look so angry before, let alone on your behalf. It almost made you want to shrink away from that piercing gaze. Instead, you blinked, slowly repeating yourself before elaborating.

“Uh…yeah. My doctor wouldn’t give me a diagnosis or refer me elsewhere, and instead just recommended more exercise…” you scoff mirthlessly at the memory, how you felt so foolish and alone in that office under the doctor’s condescending gaze.

“…needless to say, I don’t see him anymore, aha…ha” you try to fill the silence with an awkward laugh, but neither of them laugh with you.

“And this… happens often? You’re dismissed like that?” Jayce asks, eyes fixed on your legs. It was strange for you to see the two of them so tense, especially on your behalf. You nodded, with a dejected grimace.

“…they usually think someone like me is after painkillers, so I get it- I really do. And it’s true that it’s odd for someone my age to be…well, like this-“ you gesture vaguely to yourself and to your discarded braces with a bitter expression.

“But… I just can’t tough it out like I used to. Even if I am being dramatic” you sigh, the mere act of explaining your situation only furthering your fatigue. “I…I’m sorry, didn’t mean to upset you with my sob story-“

“Don’t apologize.” Viktor cuts you off, his voice gentle, but firm. “Never apologize for this. It was wrong of them to neglect you.” He sets down his notepad next to you on the table, eyeing your old braces with disdain. “I know all too well what it is like. So do not apologize for seeking a solution to your pain.” His tone went soft, gentler than you’d ever heard him. There was none of the usual sass or clinical edge to his words, and in turn it made you feel softer as well. It reminded you why you had come for their help in the first place.

These were your friends- and they would do anything to help you.

“Vik is right. We’re not mad at you, we’re mad at those idiot doctors for not doing their jobs!” Jayce chimes in. It makes you smile, despite the odd urge to cry. Instead of risking tears by attempting to respond, you simply nodded once more. “Once we’re done in here I’ll get you the contact info for my doctor. She’s good at what she does, and Viktor’s been to her a few times. Sounds good?”

You smile, your unease slowly ebbing away

“Yeah, sounds like a plan!”

“So, let’s get to work shall we?”

—

-The two men quickly resumed their work with a new fervor. A prototype sketch was done within the hour, and all that was left before the first draft could be made was the measurements. You knew this part might be a tad awkward. What you did not know, is how unbothered the two of them were when it came to personal space while they were in “work mode”.

-You sat on the table, skirt hiked up to your mid thighs as the two of them sat before you with a measuring tape and a pad of paper, delicately handling each leg as they measured. And soon enough , they began to bicker over the design.

-and you quickly learned that your friends were very hands on with their brainstorming.

“It does not need to be that long, her condition is much different than mine, so the brace must be different as well!” Long fingers slid up your calf, resting just under your knee, gently holding it higher as if to show Jayce his error. “The brace should end here, not there” he asserted, drawing invisible lines over your shin and a few inches above your knee. It took a lot of willpower not to shudder at the sensation. “Any longer and it would be bulky and cumbersome, which is what we are seeking to avoid”

Viktor’s hands were cold, and rougher than you expected, no doubt from years of tinkering and inventing. You were not going to lie to yourself and say you hadn’t stared at them before, as he wrote or worked on prototypes. You also couldn’t say you hadn’t thought about them more…intimately either. How they would feel on your bare skin. But as he drew his invisible schematic on your leg, all your curiosities were answered as you let out a small gasp.

The feeling was nice. A little too nice.

He stopped instantly, looking up with worry.

“I am sorry, did I hurt you? I will be gentler…”

“Ah! N-no I’m fine! Your…uh…your hands are just a bit cold…” you manage to stammer out. There was no way in hell you could tell him the real reason.

“Apologies… I didn’t think about that…” he sheepishly put your leg back down and returned to his notes. Once you were free from the tantalizing sensation of his fingers tracing your skin, you were quickly shackled once more by the feeling of Jayce’s hand cupping your other leg.

“I get that it’s different V, but I’m trying to be practical for day to day wear. If it’s too short, it’ll keep sliding out of place throughout the day! It should start here and end here. So that it’s less likely to ride up or down during the course of the day.”

You could barely process what he was saying, as you were too fixated on the fact that his hand; his very warm hand that was nearly large enough to wrap around your calf, was now resting dangerously high on your leg, just below where you had gathered your skirt into your lap. Any higher and he’d be properly groping your thigh.

Jayce’s hands were rough as well, with quite a few prominent calluses and healed scrapes. The sensation of his palm on the sensitive skin of your thigh sent electricity through your nerves-tingly and warm.

And again. You’d be a liar if you claimed you’d never thought about it. But in a situation like this, sleep deprived and fatigued as you were, it was much more difficult to ignore that fact. The reality of his hands on you made your head spin.

Remain calm. Remain professional.

These are your friends. They are just trying to help.

Damn them for being so pretty

“Well, what do you think?”

“Yes, which do you like better?”

The questions snapped you out of your internal crisis.

“Huh? Oh, right! Uh….” It was difficult to form an answer with the both of them looking up at you so expectantly.

“Is…is there no middle ground? Maybe a m-mix of both?” You offer feebly. They look between each other competitively, before looking once more at their individual notes, and then back to you.

“I…suppose it could be done.” Was all Viktor was able to concede. Knowing how particular he could be, it was the best Jayce was going to get.

“Sorry if we got carried away…you know how we get” Jayce chuckled. “But now that that is out of the way, we can take a look at your back brace now.” He began absentmindedly caressing your leg with his thumb, a reassuring gesture no doubt. Viktor was doing something similar, his hand back under the crook of your knee. But the sensation, and the proximity made you tense up as you averted your gaze.

For a split second, confusion crossed his face-before he realized what he was doing. Jayce abruptly stood up, pulling his hand away. Now it was his turn to chuckle awkwardly, gesturing to Viktor to release your other leg as well. Viktor blinked, looking between you and Jayce, before looking down at the somewhat intimate position the two of you were currently in. He quickly followed suit, scooting his chair back and busying his hands with more notetaking, his ears definitely pink this time.

-you decided to promptly disregard their reactions. You were friends after all! Surely there was nothing else going on right? Anyone would get a little flustered in that kind of position. Your friends didn’t see you like that…right?

-besides, you could’ve sworn they had something going on with each other anyways…

-to remain productive (and totally not because you couldn’t look them in the eye) you got off of the table and promptly told them to turn around so you could get your sweater off

-they quickly complied, and the room was quiet aside from the rustling of clothes.

-not having a proper back brace, you had modified an old underbust corset with additional boning. But now you were starting to outgrow it once again, and there’s only so many times you could take it out before needing to find a new one.

-all you really wore beneath it was a thin slip so that the corset wouldn’t chafe your skin, but it was so flimsy you might as well have just been topless

And there you stood, hands on the table, under the white light of the overhead lamp. You shuddered as the cold air of the lab set in, and your own overthinking sent goosebumps over your exposed skin.

be normal. this is normal.

"Alright, now hurry up I'm getting cold-" you hiss, breaking the silence. You do not turn around, but you can feel their gaze on you; a moment of hesitation before you hear them approach. They are assessing you, yes, but there was something else beneath that as the two scientists raked their eyes over you: something you couldn’t quite place.

Viktor breaks the silence first, clearing his throat. Your eyes are still fixed on the table, the sudden sound causing you to flinch ever so slightly. You hope neither of them noticed. “Well…the design could definitely be worse, I can see where you tried to improve upon it…”

there was a but coming at the end of that sentence. You could feel it.

“But, In the long run it may end up doing more harm than good, considering the state of the garment itself…” he gently taps the row of tattered lacing running down the back. You nod, willing your voice not to crack. “So- what should we do? It’s all I can really afford at the moment…”

“Don’t worry about that- we’re more worried about making sure whatever we come up with is comfortable” Jayce chimes in, retrieving his measuring tape and notepad once more.

“Now, I need you to stand with your back as straight as possible for a moment, can you do that?” You nod, and you can feel him directly behind you as you straighten up. It’s uncomfortable, and you hear a few soft, telltale cracks as you do it. You groan quietly, and you feel him still for a moment.

“…don’t worry about it, just do what you gotta do.” You mumble, shifting your weight between your feet.

“Ah-uh- right! Right…” he laughs it off as he proceeds with his measurements and notes, quick, methodical, and very gentle. Every so often, skin would brush skin, his warm touch would linger, and you became increasingly aware of just how warm he was behind you: like a human space heater. It would be so easy in your exhausted state to simply lean back and melt into his chest, to bask in the warmth amidst the cold air of the lab and fall blissfully asleep.

Instead, with every ounce of composure you had, you avoided dozing off or leaning back. You could feel your eyes getting heavier before the deep timbre of Jayce’s voice brought you back.

“Alright, that’s done. You can rest now.”

You immediately slouch with a sluggish sigh, and you can nearly hear the furrowing of brows and the concerned expressions occurring behind you.

“We can stop if you are too fatigued, we should have enough to get started…” Viktor offered up, now nearly as close as Jayce was. You shook your head, taking a deep breath.

“No, no, I’m fine! It’s better to get this all over with now and save you both the trouble! So what next, huh?” You dredge up any remaining scraps of what could be perceived as enthusiasm as you turn your head to smile at Viktor.

The prospect of doing this again on a different day was already increasing your heartrate to an uncomfortable degree. Believe it or not; being examined by your two incredibly handsome scientist friends while half naked was something very anxiety inducing . Especially when you’ve been ignoring your growing feelings for said aforementioned handsome scientist friends. You felt awful for these thoughts and feelings, of course you did. So what better way to deal with this dilemma than to get it over with as quickly as possible. Right?

Wrong.

“Well, the last thing we really need is uh… well.” Jayce cleared his throat, carefully choosing his next words. “We’d want to get a look at your spine without your brace on, and take a few final measurements…”

Wrong. Dead wrong.

“… you need me to take it off?” You forced a nonchalant tone, unsure if it was convincing.

“Right. The measurements with it on will be slightly skewed since it is ill fitting in the first place…” Viktor added, a twinge of anxiety to his explanation. “But of course, only if you are comfortable doing so!” He quickly added. You began to spiral

Would it be weird to say yes? It would be more awkward if I refuse right? We’re all friends, this is fine! This is in a completely clinical context as well, so-

“Sure. No worries, uh-just… gimme a sec?” You blurted out before overthinking further, your hands leaving the table to fumble with the front closure of the corset. Your friends immediately averted their gaze, but did not completely turn around. Rather than dwelling on it, you focused on trying to get the busks open, before realizing you had laced it a bit tighter than usual that morning, thus making it a bit more difficult to get out of. You would need help. Great. You sigh.

“Uh… could one of you unlace me? It’s harder to get out of like this….”

The quiet that follows makes you cringe, and sets you a bit on edge, before Viktor pipes up behind you.

“Y-yes just a second”

You soon feel his cool hands against your back, nimble fingers finding the messy knot that kept your laces tight and marking short work of it. All three of you were quiet; no banter, no chatting, no bickering. Just the soft sound of laces being pulled through worn down grommets. Once it was loosened, you let out a breath it felt like you had been holding for a lifetime, slouching a bit as your back screamed at you.

Viktor leaned next to you, softly murmuring as he reassuringly placed a hand on your back. “Is that better?” His voice was low, soft, and held a bit of…restraint? You hoped the heat rising to your face wasn’t too noticeable, as the innocent action sent forth a troubling warmth in your gut. Not unpleasant, far from it. But troubling, given the circumstance.

“Mhm… y-yeah that’s better. Thank you” you murmured back, forcing your attention towards getting your corset off. The busks unhooked with ease as you shrugged off the patchwork garment, as well as your undershirt. As it fell to the floor, you instinctively moved to stretch, now free from the compression of your brace. A series of loud pops and cracks ring out into the lab as you did so, causing you to sigh in a unique mixture of relief and ache that you had grown accustomed to.

Once you had finished, you realized two things:

One: you were now completely topless in front of your two best friends

Two: neither of them had looked away this time.

Which could totally mean nothing

Upon this realization you kept your eyes forward, standing up as straight as you could once more, finding balance on the table.

“…well? go on, g-go ahead and look” you commanded weakly. Swallowing the anticipation that came with not being able to see them. Whose hands would you feel now? Whose breath would tickle your ear? You blamed your lack of sleep for how much your mind was wandering.

You felt a warm finger trace slowly down your spine, down from the nape of your neck, past your shoulder blades, before stopping and slowing down even further, following the unnatural curve that ended toward the middle of your back. It was Jayce, you realized. And a part of you was flustered even further now knowing you could tell it was him by just the feeling of his hands.

There was low murmuring, the sound of pencil on paper, and then Viktor’s hand, tracing from the bottom of your spine through your skirt, to the middle of you back before also stopping.

“…you’re too quiet. It’s unsettling” you manage to quip, starting to feel exposed under the bright light.

“…it’s your spine. You should’ve been fitted with a brace ages ago” Viktor finishes tracing his line up your back “a proper one, no offense to your handiwork of course.” He clarified.

“That bad huh?” You huff, wincing at the implication. You had known there was an issue for years now. But all you could do was your best in terms of treatment and preventative care. Every time it had crossed your mind to get checked out, you heard the condescending doctor’s voice echoing inside your skull: “you’re being dramatic.”

“Luckily, It seems manageable with a proper brace, and you already stretch and exercise, yes?” Viktor inquired behind you, his hand now resting on your shoulder. You hummed affirmatively, as you let yourself slouch once more. You knew it only contributed to your poor posture, but the temporary relief was worth it momentarily. The urge to fall asleep right then and there was overwhelming, even despite the cold. You could feel both of them shuffle back a bit as you did.

“Sorry, sorry! Did we take too long? Are you cold?” Jayce apologizes as he tries to get you warm again, picking up your sweater and getting it right-sides-out again. You let out a sleepy mumble as you reach back for it, turning toward him with your hand out.

Turning toward him.

After a few seconds of facing them with your hand out, and being confused as to why they were just standing there, avoiding your gaze, cheeks getting redder by the second; it hit you.

“Oh-oh shit! sorry, sorry, my bad-” you snatch up your sweater and quickly yank it on and you apologize profusely and so quickly that the words were barely recognizable.

Well, you were wide awake now.

You start rambling, trying to cram how you were cold and sleep deprived and achy all into the world’s fastest sentence as you got yourself together, gathering up your discarded braces. The only thing stopping you from bolting out of the door was the grinding of your now fully unsupported knees. You winced as you pitifully shuffled back to your chair, moving to put the braces back on.

The air was thick with…something.

It wasn’t quite tension, and although being a bit awkward it wasn’t quite full on embarrassment either. But it was something, and it was intense.

“….I’ll get going then…“ you murmur, standing on unsteady legs. Except now you weren’t sure if you were unsteady because of the pain, or because of the dizzying memory of their hands on your skin.

For a moment, your fatigue catches up to you; your legs feel like static and your vision blurs around the edges. Before you even have the chance to stumble, Jayce’s arms are around you.

“Easy there! Just give us a second, we’ll get you back to your dorm okay?”

“But-“ you were cut off by the sound of Viktor shushing you and guiding you over to a couch in the corner of the lab. The two men eyed you with a seriousness that felt strange in comparison to your usual lighthearted interactions. But it was oddly comforting now, as you let yourself sink into the plush sofa

“Rest for a while, you don’t have any more classes today, right?” It was less of a question and more of a reminder, as he retrieved a blanket to drape over you. You really had no say in the matter, and the couch was so comfortable….

You felt relieved, cared for, and so so very sleepy...

So you fell asleep.

Once you were certifiably slumbering, your two impromptu caregivers let out shuddering breaths they hadn't realized they were holding, exchanging knowing glances.

Little did you know, they had been struggling just as much as you, if not more.

"....Let's get back to work." Viktor mumbled, forcing his eyes away from your relaxed form on the couch. He gripped his cane tightly as he turned away, retrieving his notes. Upon noticing Jayce hadn't moved yet, he huffed at having to repeat himself.

"Jayce."

"Right! sorry..." Jayce nodded, slowly backtracking to the main worktable. Couldn't help the deja vu that hit him as he remembered your topless form leaning against it, illuminated under the overhead light. He groaned and shook his head.

"Heaven knows we need the distraction."

--------

tadaaa*~~~ took me long enough! p2 will be up relatively soon, i just needed to stop nitpicking.

part two will be primarily from the boys' POV!

[lilmarshie]

Since requests are open do you think you could do Bob with a reader who has chronic pain/illness? My pain has increased majorly over the last few months and could really use a little comfort right now 🥲

Caring for You

Bob Reynolds x Reader Headcanons

Bob cares for you while you’re dealing with chronic pain but he makes it all better and helps your worries to go away.

A/N: Thank you for the request, anon! I hope that you enjoy!

Bob is all about helping to make your shared space together a safe haven where you can go when you’re feeling under the weather. This space is filled with the softest blankets, fluffiest pillows, best snacks, and the one that you love–Bob. He ensures that this space is at the perfect temperature to help you with flare ups and any discomfort. Bob installed a smart thermostat with a wireless remote to help you be able to adjust the temperature in the room without leaving your bed.

Bob helps you stay on top of your medications without being overbearing about it. He sets reminders for you, picks up your prescriptions, runs to the store if you need him to, and makes a detailed chart to help you stay on track. This man has thought about anything and everything that you may need at any time. He is also a great advocate to speak on your behalf when you need that extra help from your care providers and doctors.

Bob knows the importance of daily exercise and being able to stay focused on the goals at hand. Whether big or small, Bob helps you with simple training exercises that, help you to not be too overwhelmed. These exercises are quick and effective and help target those areas of your body that need some extra attention. He's happy to join you for gentle walks, stretching sessions, or even just some light yoga. He'll always adjust the pace to match your energy levels and never push you beyond what you're comfortable with.

When the pain is really unbearable Bob creates the perfect distractions from the pain. He reads you chapters from your favorite books, watches funny movies with you, or starts a short conversation about random things. This helps to not have your mind wander to the pain that you’re experiencing. He also knows all the best spots for a change of scenery, like a cozy coffee shop or a quiet park.

Bob is your biggest cheerleader and confidant during these trials. He listens without judgment when you need to vent about your pain or frustrations. He celebrates your small victories and reminds you of your strength and resilience. He's also not afraid to show his own vulnerability, which helps you feel less alone in your struggles.

Bob knows that taking care of yourself is essential, so he encourages you to prioritize self-care activities. He will draw you a bath, make you a cup of tea, or give you a gentle massage. He also reminds you to take breaks when you need them and to say no to things that will drain your energy.

Bob is always willing to go to bat for you. He will research your condition, attend doctor's appointments with you, and help you navigate the healthcare system. He's also not afraid to challenge medical professionals if he feels like your needs aren't being met.

Above all else, Bob loves you unconditionally no matter what. He understands that your illness is a part of you, but it doesn't define you. He's committed to supporting you through thick and thin, and he'll always be there to remind you of your worth.

[lieslab]

Would you miss me in the end, if I ran out of oxygen?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Han X gn reader

Summary: The battle between you and chronic fatigue leads you down a dark lonely path.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 2.2K

Trigger warning: Depression, loneliness, feeling isolated due to a chronic illness, mentions of suicide and falling from a large height.

Suicide/depression resources

_ _ _

Your own body suffocated you. Your brain tightened a noose around your neck. As you laid in your bed and stared at the wall, you couldn’t move. Burnout and lack of motivation took your soul captive a long time ago. 

Things just didn’t seem worth it anymore. You knew you were loved. You knew people rooted for you. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t that you felt unlovable and worthless. You knew people cared about you. You knew you were loved so much, but your brain couldn’t get with the program. You couldn’t pull yourself from the slump you found yourself in. 

Living life took so much energy and you hadn’t had that energy for a while. Fatigue took you over with every little action. You thought a trip to the doctor’s could clear it up, but when the chronic fatigue diagnosis hit, it didn’t make you feel better. Your own body fought against you and nothing could fix it. 

You tried to change your diet for a few months. You forced yourself to exercise when you wanted to lay in your bed. You wanted to be active. You wanted to join your boyfriend in a variety of ways, but you never had the energy. Sleep called to you. Exhaustion gripped your bones. 

No amount of supplements helped. Taking naps throughout the day left you feeling the same, if not, somewhat worse than how you felt before succumbing to them. You tried sleeping pills, but when you woke up, the fatigue clamped on. 

Day in and day out, it loomed overhead like a shadow. With so much fatigue, it snowballed into so much more. You couldn’t hold a full-time job. The last time you tried, you were fired for nodding off in the middle of the work day. You tried working part-time, but it left you feeling exhausted by the time you got home. 

Everything piled up and the dishes went unwashed. The dirty laundry piled up. These things weren’t that difficult and you knew how to do them, but you couldn’t get your body to keep up. Life turned into a constant half-awake and half-asleep battle. 

Your boyfriend made enough money for the two of you. He loved you and supporting you, it didn’t bother him, but it bothered you. You felt useless and unlovable. Without being able to do anything without the waves of fatigue, you felt useless. 

Normal people don’t feel like they climbed a mountain in the middle of washing dishes. They don’t nearly collapse after switching the damp laundry to dryers. You tried so hard to keep the house cleaned, but your body and brain ran on two different circuits. What you wanted, it wasn’t what your brain wanted. The motivation you seeked, your brain seeped it dry. 

You tried drowning the fatigue in four shots of espressos and energy drinks. You felt okay for a few minutes and then the go faded away. Your motivation dwindled once again. You crashed from a mixture of caffeine withdrawals and the crippling fatigue. 

Doctors supplied different options for you. You went to doctor after doctor searching for the cure, but the truth? It doesn’t exist. It’s not so simple. You learned it grew pointless. Your attempts turned futile and your mindset darkened. 

A stranger in the shell of your own body. You studied the creases on your hands. The colored veins running through your arms and fingers. You didn’t think it was fair. Why could other people function normally, but not you? It felt like a curse. 

Feeling so useless, it made you feel more and more depressed. You couldn’t find the motivation for anything. You used your body to warm the bed more than anything. Nothing else seemed to work. You were good for becoming Han’s personal heater and nothing else. 

Your thoughts grew darker and darker. Somewhere without light and into a deep void. 

Maybe you didn't amount to anything in this life. If you lived the days barely being able to do anything, what was the point? How could you stay here and entertain the nothingness? You were miserable. 

When those thoughts first appeared, you pushed them down. You had to. Death was no joke. Once it was done, it was done. Permanent and forever. You couldn’t take it back. 

Your birthday broke the camel’s back. Somewhere between the color party streamers and the cake decorated with bright colors, your world dampened. Smiles all around and yet, you felt hollow on the inside. 

You blew out the candles, hoping for a reason to keep living, but it never came. Before you could open presents, you had to disappear into the bedroom you shared with Han. Tucked beneath mauve sheets, nestled into a duck feather pillow, you fell asleep. By the time you woke up, everyone disappeared. Past midnight, your afternoon nap grew so long, the guests left. 

Han’s eyes shut on the couch. With one leg off and another on, he passed out there because he didn’t want to bother you. Your gifts sat unopened on the coffee table. The cake remained untouched on the kitchen counter. The candles sat on top, but nobody dug in. 

Shiny pieces of confetti coated the floor. Distress plucked at your heart. All you wanted was a good time between your friends and family, but your brain wouldn’t even allow that. Chronic fatigue took away everything. Your love. Your hope. Your happiness. It took away everything good and you were so tired of it. 

Through teary eyes, you slipped back upstairs. You didn’t stop climbing until you reached the attic window. You shoved open the window and crawled out into the darkened night. 

The way the roof sat, you could reach it with ease. You crawled out, pawing at the tiles, trying to push yourself from the heavy oppression in the house. You’d done this a million times before. When you were alone and needed to think, you’d come out here and let your brain float. 

Tether yourself to daydreams and forget the hurt. Forget how much your body betrayed you. You’d forget how lonely your disease made you feel. You’d forget it all. Instead, you’d daydream of space. Life on another planet, in another body; an alien entity. One where you were never this tired. One where you could live like you were meant to live. 

Your desperation for a breath of fresh air grew flawed. Through your tears, your grip remained unsteady. Not to mention, the rain showers from earlier didn’t help. The tiles were soaked with water. You thought you had it. You thought you were almost there, but you weren’t. 

Han jerked upright with wide eyes. The sound of a scream pulled him from the depths of sleep. The only light in the living room, the small night light hooked into the bottom outlet. You both used it when you woke up thirsty. 

He bolted from the couch and rushed upstairs to your shared room, but the bed laid empty. The blankets twisted and your pillow pushed to the side, but you weren’t there. 

“Baby?” He called out, hurrying back into the hallway. He looked around until he spotted the attic ladder perched on the hardwood floor. “Oh no,” he whispered. 

By the time he rushed up the ladder, you were already two stories below. Unconscious, your body didn’t move. His head poked out the window and he froze. Beneath the light of the crescent moon, you laid still and unmoving.

For those first few seconds, he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t move. He knew you struggled with your fatigue, but to the point where you’d willingly jump? He struggled to wrap his head around it. 

A clap of thunder caused him to jump. The back of his head slammed against the open window. He screamed your name and flew downstairs. The entire time, he prayed for a miracle. 

“Sir, are you there? Sir? Sir? What’s going on? Sir?” 

He struggled through tears while talking to the emergency operator. He didn’t dare move you, unsure if you obtained a spinal or neck injury. You were breathing, but the relief that it provided him, it wasn’t much. So much could go wrong. 

A list of potential issues and injuries ran through his head. He explained everything to the emergency operator, including your struggle with chronic fatigue. Once the words were out, the operator’s voice silenced for a few moments. 

To both of them, your actions seemed obvious. 

_ _ _ 

Your eyes fluttered open with a groan. Something pressed against the base of your neck. You could breathe, but it was a struggle. Han’s boba eyes appeared a few inches from yours. 

“You’d really leave me like that?” Irritation from crying and rubbing his eyes left them red. “Without a good-bye? On your birthday?” 

“Huh?” 

“The attic window was opened. You jumped, didn’t you? You jumped and instead of telling me that you were struggling so much, you-” 

“No,” your head shook. “I climbed out to look at the moon. I was upset that I slept through my party. I went out to think. I didn’t mean to fall, I swear.” 

Han didn’t know what to think. Tears pricked his eyes once more. Whether you fell or purposefully jumped, it didn’t matter. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

“What’s on my neck?” 

“A neck brace. You sprained your neck and broke a few ribs. You’ll be fine in a few weeks. The doctors have suggested bed rest for you.” 

“Just fucking peachy,” you mumbled. “More laying in bed, just like I’ve always wanted.” 

Han winced at your words and gently squeezed your hand. “It won’t be so bad. I took time off of work, so I’ll be there with you. You won’t be alone.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better. I feel like I’m ruining your life as it is.” 

“Why do you think that?” 

Anger swept over you. “I can’t do anything without getting tired. What’s the point of living if I can’t do anything? I’m practically useless!” 

“Did you jump or fall?” 

Did you? Tears filled your eyes. Maybe it was a mix of both. Maybe you fell, but you knew your actions were reckless. Maybe you wanted it to look like you fell, but you hoped you’d die in the fall. 

“I don’t know,” you finally admitted. 

Han shut his eyes. Tears slipped out beneath his long dark lashes. “The doctor is admitting you here for observation. Since they think you purposely tried to end your life, you can’t willingly leave for so long. You’ll have to talk to a therapist and-” 

“That’s stupid,” you whispered. “I don’t want to talk to a therapist. I want to go home and rot in bed again. I want to leave.” 

“Baby,” he uttered. He brought your hand to his cheek. “I know you’re upset and this is a struggle, but I think you need to talk to someone. You’re not happy. I know you’re not happy and I try to help you, but I don’t know how.” 

“I can’t fix your fatigue. I wish I could. I’d trade places with you, if I could. You can’t keep suffering like this. You don’t want to talk about your true feelings with me. If you want to start trying to live, you have to take the first steps into trying to find a routine and trying to get better.” 

You opened your mouth, but he continued. “I know you’re going to say it’s pointless. I know it’s going to be hard. You can’t change your condition, but I love you. People want you here. You have to try. Please try.” 

It shattered your heart to hear him plead for your fight so desperately. “I’m so tired,” you croaked. “I’m just so tired. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. I’m tired. I want the fatigue to stop.” 

“I know you do. The people here are going to do everything they can to help you feel a little better. Just trust them, please. Trust them and open up. Take a chance. Please, baby, let them try to help.” 

“But nothing ever works.” 

“Then try for me one more time. Just once more. Give it a go again.” 

“What if it doesn’t work?” 

“What if it does?” 

“What if it’s a waste of time?” 

“And what if they figure out a new way to help you feel better?” He leaned forward and gently wiped your tears. “I know it’s hard, but I believe in you. The people that love you, we all believe in you.” 

“All this because I slept through my birthday party, it feels really dramatic.” 

“It’s not dramatic. I knew you’d be devastated. I replanned the party for next week in the morning. You’re usually not so tired in the mornings. I figured we could get you another cake. If you’re willing to wait to open your gifts, that is.” 

Your entire face softened at his words. “You did that all for me?” 

“I’d move mountains for you and wrangle the planets. I love you. All of you. Chronic illness or not, I’ll always be here for you. That’s what you do when you love someone. You stick around to see what the next adventure is.” 

Tears dripped down your cheeks again. His face fell and he quickly rushed forward to wipe them away. “Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

“I love you with every fiber of my entire being.” 

“I love you too. Please stop crying. I’m going to start crying again. We look so ugly when we’re crying.” When your laughter hit his ears, he couldn’t stop smiling. 

He meant it, he’d do anything to hear that sound forever.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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[project-sekai-facts]

Spoilers

Leoni’s wl chapters are all on sekai best right now and I wanted to inform what I understand about what they did with saki’s illness. From what I understand saki was weak and ill since she was young and during elementary leoni formed a band and at some point her illness got really bad and she had to stay in the hospital for a while. Saki was eventually released and became very worried about her health and was scared about it happening again so she wanted to get stronger. To do that Saki started working out more and during middle school joined the soft tennis club. She was able slowly over time build up strength and with the help of others looking out for her Saki got stronger and better. It is stated also that at times during middle school she did feel like she was going to faint.

I’m not sure how bad this handling is as I’m not a chronically ill person. I recognize it definitely isn’t the best route, which would’ve been leoni visiting her more often, or the worst route, which would’ve been be if they just erased Saki’s illness altogether.

i forgot saki chapter is out now so i can answer this. how they handled saki is incredibly questionable. because technically technically saki has nonspecific anime disease which means her illness works however the writers need it to. they don't say anything so they don't have to commit to anything or have any restrictions with how they write saki. so maybe tennis can cure her illness. it is true that exercise and healthy lifestyle improves immune system. however that begs the question, why did no one ever just tell saki's parents to make sure she got regular exercise and a healthy diet, in either universe.

as i said recently, based on what little we know about saki's illness, and inferring from the fact she had to be moved to a different part of the country to live in a specialist hospital, she had an immunodeficiency that was either genetic, or caused by other medical factors (eg: blood/organ transplant or chemotherapy). in these instances, you can't just magically get better by playing tennis. like obviously regular exercise would improve her physical health to a degree, but honestly with how ill she was that wasn't really possible, and it would be much less effective if saki's nonspecific anime disease is a genetic thing or caused by a different illness like cancer or an organ problem, which like pick one of the three because they make most sense for what her illness translates too.

we knew colopale kinda just used saki's illness as a plot device half the time considering the nonspecified part but yikes. it doesn't even make sense, like i said if she could just play tennis to get cured why did no doctor's tell her that in the main AU, where she ended up relapsing and returning to hospital. i feel like they just didn't know what to do with saki in a pre-main story canon divergence. it's not hard to think of something just have shiho and honami actually go to visit her and get rid of the miyajo bullies so they don't cut saki and ichika off. you don't have to get rid of her illness to make it work, it's set during second year anyway. i get she still gets fatigued easier than the average person but that's not really a good excuse. it's still incredibly poor treatment of a chronically ill character.

[barabaraoranges]

volt & eddie appearance headcanons

"i don't like them," the man says through gritted teeth, after spending three hours on developing appearance headcanons for them

spoilers for eddie and volt's route. spoilers for realization (will tag this one). everything below the cut

i am also interpreting volt and eddie as being chronically ill/disabled.

volt

6'4". i don't think he's necessarily muscular, just broad shouldered. while he has slight visible abs, it's not due to muscle, it's just due to him being lean and his weight distributing to his thighs and shoulders area.

.... i do think he has a flat ass in dateviator form. he can't have it all, that just isn't fair.

in-game, i think there is some progression with his appearance to hint that things are going bad for him. like, he starts off just fair skinned when you first meet him, but slowly you start noticing things aren't okay. heavy foundation and concealer that doesn't quite cover up his pale neck. streaks of electricity that show underneath the makeup, no matter what he does. an undeniable exhaustion on his face.

on the last night, his skin is quite literally almost translucent with heavy blue undertones and, instead of blood, you can see electricity flowing through him. he failed to consider how the the spotlight would show through makeup.

if he's exhausted, his eye bags are a dark, dark blue and ripple faintly with electricity just underneath his skin. on especially bad days, you can see the edges of his lips turn a faint blue.

during the story progression, i would imagine this would be noticeable, so he wears especially heavy eye makeup. once the story concludes, however, he wears noticeably less eye makeup

on rough days, you can watch him quite literally breathing out sparks like he's about to overexert himself from just standing. this is especially common when it's raining or storming or there's particularly bad weather out. he needs convincing to not open the bar for the night and to rest.

after playing their route, i actually can't stop thinking about frankenstein-like volt. i think he's got heavy surgical scarring on everything that isn't covered, especially on the torso area. heavy evidence of poorly done stapling and stitching work around the stomach area, going down into the thighs and ankles. scars healed a grayish-blue color, but it's difficult to tell if it's from his own internal electricity or a result of how they healed

trans guy. top and bottom surgery, with a full phalloplasty. compared to his other surgical scars, they are far more neat. his copper bracelets cover the phallo scarring on his left wrist

i don't know how electricity works, but i think he could tie his hair up with a wire or something if he really wanted to.

his pubes and armpit hair are electric like his hair. overall hairless, but he does have a modest happy trail and bush.

fangs. uses them shamelessly to flirt. happy to expose them with a smile.

realized version (spoilers), i imagine that he still has some degree of chronic illness/pain when he becomes a human. stays in if he doesn't absolutely need to go out. he wears out quickly and needs to take breaks often so he doesn't burn himself out. he's still fair skinned and still has his body scarring, but they look like normal, faded scars now. he has been able to put on healthy weight and maintain an exercise routine to handle his pain. while he doesn't have abs, but he does have a fantastic ass now. owns a nightclub (quickly becomes a gay club) that ends up becoming popular very quickly, fantastic owner and people are constantly desperate to work at his bar.

eddie

5'7". he's really not built at all, fairly average weight, if anything underweight from illness. very soft core area, stretch lines and loose skin. stretch lines are most notable on his hips and ass. really the only muscular part of his body as his arms and shoulders, but even then they're more lean than anything

heavy scarring on his hands and arms from electrical work. a lot of them look like ferns on his arms. palms are prone to drying excessively and painfully cracking. if he wasn't constantly getting his arm hairs singed, they'd be fairly hairy

essential tremor in his hands. gets worse under stress and anxiety. hands tend to be swollen from arthritis from overworking himself.

struggles deeply with joint, muscle fatigue, and overall body fatigue. needs to take a lot of breaks, all of which volt stresses over on the daily. there's a bed in the closet for him to sleep in, fitted with heated blankets. he also can't stand for an extended period of time and usually sits in a chair

recognizes he needs a cane and finger splints but doesn't want volt to stress over him even more

also a trans man. top surgery but no bottom surgery.

thin layer of chest hair, but a generous happy trail with some stomach hair.

fangs. he doesn't make them as noticeable as volt does, but he definitely pays attention when people notice them. uses them shamelessly for flirting, to his advantage.

realized version (spoilers), he finally officially retires! volt's nightclub makes enough money that he can stay at home and take care of himself. he gets bored, though, so he picks up maintenance around the house. puts on healthy weight and finally gets mobility aids. i'd imagine his disability would translate into some form of arthritis, so he'd be put on an arthritis treatment regiment.

[askthehedgehogs]

have either of you been to the chiropractor for any reason because hot DAMN there is no better feeling than having some stranger snap your neck and voila your pain is gone

(shadow idk if your pain is caused by the chaos energy?? or immortality?? or something?? but it could be something to look into! juuuust saying!)

My chronic pain is caused by a mix of my body not handling the strain of excess Chaos Energy well, and mobility issues. Chaos Energy is managed, in part, by the inhibitor rings, while my airshoes help with mobility.

Other things that help include heat, rest, specific exercises, and a chiropractor. Unfortunately, painkillers don't work.

It can be hard to figure out what helps with chronic pain or illness. Try taking note when you have good days and bad days, see if there's any correlation with anything you do on those days.

Nooo way, I’m never going to a chiropractor, I’ve heard the sounds Shadow’s bones make in there!

Oh, the cat’s name is Darkness. She’s staying with us while we look for her owner.

[kittyit]

cfs/disability blog post -__-

finally acclimated enough to become bold enough to talk about it. after getting sepsis and then getting covid for the first time while in the ICU in late 2022, i have developed chronic fatigue syndrome. i don't like that diagnostic title but it is what it is until further discoveries of categorization and naming of specific mechanisms of its causes are made, and it's the most well known term.

there is something wrong in my body. i can tell. I hate the concept of it being "fatigue" - it's inability to recover from exertion. my favorite term is actually from 2015: systemic exertional intolerance disease (SEID). i have the dubious advantage in being able to articulate and understand clearly what's going on because I'm a person who has previously recovered from near-bedridden levels of weakness from a series of life circumstances and choices that left me barely able to stand and walk. once i was out of the circumstances that resulted in this, I recovered slowly but surely. the concept of self-rehab is simple: exercise to near exertion or exertion, eat nourishing foods that allow muscles to rebuild, rest if you're overtired or hurt. continue this cycle. enjoy how it feels to get stronger and the simple joy and fun of being exerted! this worked great for me. it was only getting better.

i was undaunted at recovery after sepsis/COVID because i'd done it before. then, when things were different, i just thought i needed to push through and keep going. this resulted in me acting extremely erratically and being incredibly unwell for a year. then i started taking seriously that something was wrong. and it is wrong, i just can't stress enough that something is wrong in my body.

this is how exercise (exertion) used to go: the exercise starts, there is a wonderful beginning feeling of ecstasy, excitement, followed by a middle feeling of being fully present, fully engaged with the physical activity, then an ending feeling of pleasant exertion (sometimes quite intense!), then the satisfaction of resting, eating, drinking. sore the next day if boundaries were pushed, not if they weren't.

this is how exertion goes now: the exercise starts. there IS a wonderful beginning feeling of excitement. i think one of the worst parts is how it always pretty much feels okay at the beginning, and because i am an optimist (possibly born this way, nothing has ever been able to really stop it), i think i might actually get away with it this time. consider this: a brief and brisk outing to a nice norcal town, maybe 30 minutes total of walking and standing, with rest interspersed, total 1.5 hour outing. the middle feeling of the exertion has changed. there is a sensation that something is wrong, something is off. it's incredibly difficult to not just push through this. but the end is definitely the worst. instead of a pleasant exertion, there is a sudden oncoming rush of emptiness, oncoming illness. where there used to be satisfaction there's just a sensation of doom. sometimes it feels like i'm falling, like literally falling through space while sitting still.

within 8-12 hours, there is a result of something going wrong in the body. some research suggests it's a mitochondrial problem. i don't know. i'm not science-y enough. but it's just fucking crazy. feeling like you do when you wake up and realize you got that flu after all, cognitive functioning sharply declines, shaky, can't focus, lose short-term memory, can't type well on my phone, loss of ability to emotionally regulate, a spike in aphasic issues. my "post exertional malaise" symptoms are mostly cognitive functioning based, i have to go pretty far before i start feeling it physically. which is incredibly frustrating in its own right, to feel the sensation of untapped power in my body. and when i take it too far, i can put myself into a spiral of being fucked up for weeks or months (when i REALLY fuck up and keep going. just finished one of these. months. really months)

it just sucks. i'm constantly trying new things, trying to treat it, trying to improve. i take resting really seriously now but i just can't accept i'll spend the rest of my life like this. there's a few camps in CFS subculture, people who say recovery isn't possible (and often tell anyone aiming for it they're just going to make themselves worse), people who insist recovery is possible (and do not make space for people who have tried everything and nothing worked), and many more ad infinitum.

i right now believe i'm on a slow but linear improvement timeline. a woman once told me her mother had issues like this after sepsis and she felt better 10 (!) years later. it's been 2.5 years for me and i can do more. but how much of "doing more" is just me sacrificing a lot of things in my life i used to be able to to do rest (more cooking, cleaning, etc.) it's humbling. my gf takes care of me in a way that is impossible to articulate my thankfulness for. like she saved me and is the reason i'm alive. she is devoted and caring to the extreme

i am really serious about disability politics and being ok with being disabled. and it feels like (as an ex-christian who will live with genuine serious religious trauma for the rest of my life) that god is always humbling me/punishing me. but this isn't a punishment from god. it's a medical problem. and there are going to be different approaches and medical solutions. and as long as i don't give up i will improve.

i just feel like i need to talk about this. i've been really ashamed because it's a really crazy catch-all diagnosis, and also i do not really engage with the sprawling massive community around it, because like most internet communities focused on mental/physical health issues, they are often hostile to a position of openness and curiousness and also a true desire for improvement in whatever ways are availble/good disability politics

i was definitely in the CFS skeptic group before developing it (which also feels like a punishment from god), and i feel more ashamed of that than almost anything else. not like i was a hater or arguing with anyone online about it, but i had my reservations. and now i understand that there is something fucking wrong in my body, this is not normal. the body is not doing what it's supposed to do. there is a breakdown in the natural order of things. so if you are a skeptic please know i get it. and i am here to tell you that something is happening lmao THIS is not. normal

so basically if you have CFS/long covid/post-viral whatever i believe you. and i hope you believe me too. talking to doctors about this has been the fucking worst and i am a pretty medically stigmatized person to begin with. i believe you. and i also do believe there's hope in many different directions. fucking KIDS are getting it now because of COVID. this administration fucked up a lot of research but other countries are trying. i think we'll have more understanding and approaches within a decade.

i just make meaning of things by writing about them and i'm really tired of guarding this like a secret i don't want anyone to know like so many other things in my life i've now successfully written about and worked through by forming narrative meaning. so this is a first stab at that and thank you for reading

[intothedysphoria]

Loads of friends. A boyfriend who loved him. A job that paid at least minimum wage. Shots. Sabrina Carpenter tour. Cosmetology school.

Everything was going great before Steve collapsed into his boyfriend’s arms in a Walmart parking lot.

POTS. That’s what the doctor said. Steve Harrington was chronically ill and had been pushing himself far too much, with popularity and work and school. It was gonna break eventually.

He spent the weekend sobbing on the floor because he couldn’t get up and his head hurt and everything in his vision was clouded over.

Billy got him a cushion for his head. Water to keep him hydrated. They started looking at mobility aides together.

Billy was no stranger to disability. After a freak accident at 18, he was an ambulatory wheelchair user and had, in retrospect, very obvious adhd. He was extremely supportive of Steve and was going to be very strict in not letting him bypass his physical health.

A big thing Steve saw to help POTS was exercise. He was getting plenty of that in already, being on the college basketball team. Then the final nail in the coffin was hammered in.

He was going to have to stop going out.

No more clubbing, alcohol made it worse. Cut down on coffee. Let his body rest before pushing it as hard as he had been.

It was hell. Steve’s autism actually thrived off social interaction so feeling shut in was torture.

Billy made it better in little ways.

He let Steve practice on him for school. He cooked his famous lasagne. They held hands while watching trashy reality tv.

Steve asked if Billy thought dropping all of his activities made him weak.

Billy blew his mullet out of his face and rolled his eyes. Hard.

“The exact opposite. Jesus, Harrington.”

Then he gave Steve a cuddle to make sure Steve knew he wasn’t actually mad.

The walking stick Steve chose was hot pink and he put little basketball stickers all over it. Billy said he loved it and Steve did too.