#by headaches I mean I’m pretty sure it’s a migraine and I have chronic migraines but

[raeofgayshine]

Headaches are objectively awful for a lot of reasons, but the worst one is that the best way to cure them (or at least the bad ones I get) is to lay in a dark room for hours on end with literally nothing (maybe quiet white noise, as a treat) but of course my brain would rather die than do nothing and be quiet so I wind up just having to suffer and do things that make my headache actively worse until I either feel like crying from the pain or like throwing up in which case I then I have to stop and take a break and maybe sleep until it gets a little better, rinse and repeat until the headache goes away or I finally fall asleep for the whole night.

[bokettochild]

Through The Keyhole, See Another Life

Inspired by the giant flannel I've been wearing for the last week and how happy it makes me. This popped into my head at work because of it so.... here you go!

Fandom: Linked Universe

Characters: Time, Legend Four

Words: 1,954

Rating: Gen

Summary: The Chain are visiting the ranch, and while most of the other boys are finishing their chores, Time stumbles across Four introducing Legend to one of his guilty pleasures.

"Four, no." 

Time glances up at the very firm voice echoing down the stairs. He’s not sure if the boys even know he’s come back to the main house yet, not with the guest room being on the backside of the house and unable to see the door and all. Usually, someone would have noticed the sound of the door opening, but all the other boys are outside with Malon, helping with the chores while their smithy and veteran rested inside. 

The battle in his world had been a hard one, and as much as fairies and potions can do, they seemingly can’t prevent Legend’s chronic pain or Four’s migraines, both of which had been worsening for days even before arriving at the ranch. Malon, naturally, had insisted that both boys be allowed to sleep in today, and given they’d still been curled up tight in bed, tense and stressed even while asleep, he’d been inclined to agree.  

It appears they’re awake now though, no doubt having found the breakfast laid just inside the door of their room for them, since no one had known if either would be willing to risk the stairs to find something while the rest of them were outside working. Still, he’d probably better check. He's been a bit worried about the two, and now that Malon has ordered him inside (he honestly wasn’t kicked that hard! The cows are just big!) he has plenty of time on his hands while the rest of his boys finish their assigned chores under his wife’s guidance. 

“Why on earth not?” The smithy’s voice is a bit higher as it trails down the stairs to where he’s shucking off his boots and stretching out his back, feeling every one of his years, even the ones that technically didn’t happen. 

Legend’s sigh is audible even through the floorboards, a soft groan probably accompanying a motion. “Because I don’t want to get in trouble?” 

There’s a part of time that wants to snort at the words; the two heroes sound like children arguing about pulling a prank on their parents, but then the fact that he and Malon would be said parents in that situation hits him and it’s not as funny. Additionally, these are teen heroes, the idea that Legend is wary about it means whatever Four wants to do is either very dumb, very silly, or very dangerous, and he’s not sure which is the worse scenario. 

He moves for the stairs, ears tuned closely to the door above, but feet quiet so they won’t hear him coming. 

“I do this all the time, it’s nice! Come on, you’d love it if you let yourself.” 

Okay then, less a worry, he pauses, listening. They’d probably resent that, but he’s curious now, and still a bit wary. He has to remind himself that Legend and Four are, in fact, two of the more level headed heroes- most of the time. At any rate, they’re usually pretty responsible, so even if he’s more used to Wild and Wind and (Hylia help him) Warriors, he really shouldn’t doubt them so much. 

“Yes,” the bed upstairs creaks, “but you’re you. I’m me. There’s a big difference in how they’d react to you doing this- heck, Twilight would probably think it’s cute from you, and Sky definitely would-” definitely not dangerous then, or risky, or likely to cause damage of any sort “-but it’d be a whole different story with me.” 

“You’re just scared to try.” Four taunts, headache clearly gone. 

The bed creaks, like someone’s flopped on it. “Four, I am in too much pain to sit through Twilight chewing me out for being an ‘asshole’ again.” There’s a tick in the vet’s voice, a small hitch on the offending title. Come to think of it, his pup does tend to call the vet that pretty frequently. 

Four doesn’t pause though, continuing his insistence on...whatever he’s insisting. “Then don’t touch Twilight’s things, he can’t be mad on someone else’s behalf.” 

“He is.” Legend clips back. “frequently.” 

Does his pup really chew the vet out that much? 

“Blame me,” the smithy suggests, off-handed.” 

The bed creaks again, a longer one, most likely as it’s resident shifts to face the smithy. He can imagine the deadpan tired stare and heavy sigh that likely touches their young vet’s face. “That’s the definition of an asshole move.” 

“Then let me say it was my fault.” 

“Again, you’re different. They‘d excuse it from you, but as a person with my own free will, they will blame me for-” 

“Oh stop being a stick-in-the-mud!” Four huffs, petulant almost. He must be in one of his more childish moods, no doubt Red’s fault. It happens from time to time when they’re in a safe place and the smithy isn’t constantly around the other heroes. He didn’t think Legend would be allowed to see it, but maybe he’s wrong about that, because the smithy’s voice definitely has picked up the mannerisms of his more emotional aspect. “Just take this and put it on!” 

Are they....is Four trying to get Legend to play dress up of some kind? 

“Is that Time’s?” It’s hesitant, guarded, wary.  

“He won’t mind, or notice either, I expect. He never does.” 

Is Four getting into his things without his knowing? Since when? Time’s feet start back up the stairs again, only to pause once more at the vet’s hesitant voice. 

“You sure he won’t crucify me or something?” 

Malon’s going to kill him. That’s the impression he’s giving these younger heroes? 

“Just do it,” Four huffs, “stop being a baby.” 

And of course, insulting Legend is no way to get him to make the smart decision, whatever it is they're on about. He sets up the stairs again, creeping to the door of the guest room once he's reached the second floor and peeking around the door frame. The door’s still shut, but it’s little trouble to turn the handle ever so slowly and push it open enough to see what’s going on inside. 

He’s not expecting what he sees. 

Four is standing in the middle of the room, Sky’s embroidered undershirt hanging off of him like a rather short dress as he stares at the vet who’s still sitting on the bed where Time had left both of them early this morning. The vet, in turn, has similarly shed his own sweaty clothes, which he can see tossed over a nearby chair, and the pink-haired teen is currently drowning in what he recognizes to be one of his own tunics. The collar isn’t laced yet, but the vet is currently yanking at it to stop it trying to slip off a shoulder, struggling though because the sleeves of the outfit seem to have utterly swallowed his hands. 

Four giggles. Red is definitely fronting, although the smile he sees on the smith’s face is more like Green’s. “Let me help.” 

  “It’s just the sleeves,” the other boy huffs, “I got it.” He doesn’t. 

Time finds himself stifling a chuckle as he watches the vet fumble and fuss, switching between trying to free his hands and trying to tighten the collar. Any worries that the two were up to anything nefarious have long since vanished, although his will to see what they’re doing hasn’t. 

They look like actual kids like this, Four decked out in stollen finery and Legend drowning in Time’s own clothes, much too big for him, to the point that with the next attempt to free his hands, long sleeves flap freely and loose in an effort of some sort (he can only presume) to make them fall down naturally. That effort though is quickly forgotten, the vet’s face loosening, softening somewhat, eyes wide as he pauses and then tentatively flaps the sleeves again. Four giggles, and Legend’s chuffing laughter follows it as he grins as his trapped hands and the excess fabric that shakes and snaps with his quick movements. 

“Welcome,” the smithy sounds, “to the wonders of over-sized clothes. You’re welcome.” 

“I hate you,” Legend sighs, but there's not a bit of actual malice in the words as he flops back against the pillows on the bed, seemingly having given up on trying to fit into Time’s clothes and instead accepting his fate. The boy’s face screws up a moment later in confusion though, and he lifts a hand to his face again with a frown, sniffing slightly at the shirt sleeve. 

Time desperately, desperately hopes that Four didn’t steal that from his travel bag or dirty laundry. Except, he must not have, because Legend’s face softens again, this time into a smile, and he curls up a bit, burying his face in the fabric with a little hum that is strangely out of place for the harsh veteran they all have come to know. More so though, is the way Legend rubs his face across the fabric, ears flapping. It’s strangely adorable. 

“Nice?” Four is definitely gloating. 

Legend’s face rises for a moment out of the sleeves, a whole different person than Time knows, bitter-sweet smile and flushed cheeks. “’t smells like home.” 

Something in his chest clenches violently. 

There’s no such reaction from the smith though, who just looks pleasantly surprised, but nods it off with a smile, moving a bit closer and settling on the bedside, careful not to stir it and earning a brief look of thanks from the vet who is, now that he looks, still a bit pale and carrying tension around his shoulders and eyes. “Really?” 

“Yeah” violet eyes fall down to stare at long sleeves, hand flapping slightly inside again, but not enough to do more than make the fabric shift and shuffle a bit. “Time must use the same aftershave as-” a pause, a twitch of the face into a frown. “It’s a familiar scent.” 

It’s also a new one. Malon had got it for him for their wedding anniversary last year. He forgets what she called it, but she loves it, so he does too. On the road, it hardly matters what he smells like, but it makes him think of her and, like the captain says, it’s good to do small things for yourself even when traveling and fighting and struggling. Life’s not much worth living if it’s all harsh and you deny yourself even the small joys accessible to you. For him, that joy is remembering how his wife beams and showers him with kisses once he’s fresh faced again, but in the room before him, it can also mean stealing your team-mates' too big clothes and curling up in them when you aren’t feeling your best. 

The smile that pulls across his face as Legend rolls over to face Four better, curled up tightly in himself as the smithy laughs about something, both looking peaceful, is also one of those things. 

For a moment, a precious, fleeting moment, he can almost forget the two boys in the bedroom across from his own are heroes who have to save the world. Instead, he can almost imagine them waking up there and joining farm chores every day. No pain brought on by whatever these two have faced would exist in such a world and instead they’d be free to run wild around the barnyard, racing to finish chores or pulling pranks and making mischief like boys their age should be doing. 

It’s a nice picture, and not even properly bitter-sweet, even though he knows it can’t be, because they're still there in front of him, peaceful and content and chattering quietly, one of his boys curled up in his shirt and the other in Sky’s, both discussing scents and colognes and what smells signal home. 

[solarianvoidthearoace]

I’m hesitant to call myself disabled

Or even refer to my frequent joint problems/ pain as chronic. I mean, yeah, I have been wearing my wrist splint the last 6 weeks + and my wrist hurts when I pick up something heavier than a water bottle. But does that count, though? Does it?

And my knees are currently fine because I have been wearing my orthopaedic insoles. So I’m technically not hindered by my knees.

My migraine and occasional headache comes and goes, that’s neither here nor there. – I did have mild headaches for almost 20 months straight in 2021 & 2022

As for my orthostatic intolerance, yeah, that’s been a bitch. (Probably worse than before ever since I had Covid beginning of November 2022) But I also feel like I just drink too little. And if that’s it, do I even have orthostatic dysfunction? Sure, it’s too warm for me already and I’m about panting when I took two flights of stairs at 25°C. But is that orthostatic intolerance or am I just lazy and unathletic?

I have had most of this shit (joint pains, back pain, orthostatic intolerance/ cardiovascular weakness, migraines) since my mid- to late-teens.

And yet

Jury’s still out on whether I genuinely have any form of dysautonomia and what’s up with my joints, whether that’s some rheumatism

Like, I got myself a cane to try out whether that can help me. I’m used to just… coping with shit. I have a whole drawer of splints and support bandages. I started wearing compression stockings back in 2021.

I… I cope and I feel like no doctor will diagnose me with shit but I also feel like I couldn’t accept hearing “no, you’re healthy and just need to work out more”. So I’m not exactly eager to see a medical specialist although I really want to know what’s wrong with my body and I want it acknowledged. But that’s also the thing, I want acknowledgement and assistance with coping rather than a cure and… I feel like that’s also… like, if it was “bad enough”, if it was genuinely disabling, I would want it gone, right?

But I have already accepted that living with these issues is fine, that it’s not going to be curable and that I’ll cope and that’ll be my life. Which, I know that sounds stupid and I understand if someone called me a faking attention seeker. Not getting help at all seems… not even trying to get help, maintaining my status quo, seems easier than to struggle with medical professionals.

I’m 24, I’m too young for this shit and if it was chronic it would have been a problem for years so why didn’t I go see a doctor when it started?

Plus I always felt like my mental illnesses and my neurodivergence are the bigger hinderance in my life.

Well, at least during school they were. Unmedicated ADHD-PI, major depression, generalised anxiety, avoidant personality disorder, rejection-sensitive dysphoria, complex trauma/ CPTSD, trauma regarding specific events, and I’m very likely also autistic.

And let me tell you, my RSD and AvPD are pretty rough on literally any social interaction. I refuse to ask for help because I don’t want to burden people. I refuse to ask for accommodations I’m entitled to because I’m worried someone might question my right to accessibility. Generally, anxiety controls every aspect of me being a member of society and I think some demand-avoidance might also factor in because I’m just so scared of fucking up that doing nothing and getting yelled at seems less stressful than putting in work and getting yelled at none the less.

And “very likely” is putting it mildly, I very much fit the described experience of AuDHD folks. But technically it could also just be my anxieties making it look like I’m autistic. Which I doubt but since I was also told I’m not depressed, it’s just AvPD, eeeeh… yeah.

I’m pretty confident with my self-assessment even though I have had people laugh in my face when I told them about self-diagnosing.

Idk man, I just live here.

And I sometimes feel like I’m faking it…? Even though from my experience acknowledging stuff like my autism only got me snide comments to not be difficult and just push myself to comply. So idk which benefit I would gain from faking any of these issues. But the imposter syndrome is still there.

Further self-conscious identity struggle under the cut.

And while you can pry “queer” from my cold dead hands, I don’t feel entitled to refer to myself as gay

I’m aroace but in terms of queerplatonic/ alterous attraction I would date someone regardless of gender BUT I have a definite preference for femboys, femme men, non-binary men and AMAB* non-binary people

I myself am a transneutral-transmasc person and never connected with “being a woman/ girl”. I have always felt more comfortable being a guy but I acknowledge I’m not a man. I’m an agender guy and I’m a genderqueer guy and I’m masc transneutral. I consider the terms masculenby and MINgender also correct descriptors but only in reference of me being agender-genderqueer. Like, that’s the focal point, the frame of reference. I’m agender and genderqueer first and foremost, only within that is my gender experience masc-in-nature and vaguely aligned with masculinity.

So my attraction to queer men and my gender being masc-aligned… I don’t feel like I’m allowed to call myself gay. Because I don’t make an effort to look masc/ genderqueer/ agender

I want to make it clear I would never judge or discredit someone in my exact situation for calling themself gay or a fag or whatever they want to use to describe their achillean attraction.

I just don’t feel like I’m allowed to because I get treated and pass for a tomboy cis-woman. I firmly reject the notion of being a woman, I am not woman and never was a girl. But I still appear to be one so I feel like I can’t raise a stink around it.

Which is also why I don’t think my ideal relationship has any chance of happening.

I want to be with an AMAB* non-binary person who is feminine. They don’t need to be transfem but my attraction is certainly geared towards flamboyant and effeminate men and AMAB* enby people. Could probably be simplified to femboys. *I feel weird referring to this as a genital preference but I acknowledge that that is part of it and hence saying AMAB is not entirely correct. Because I’m sex-averse and would rather not but I can see myself having sex again with a future partner who happens to have a penis. I can not picture myself having sex with someone without a penis. And that genital preference kinda makes me feel icky because I’m agender myself and I feel like it shouldn’t matter but…

If I were to find a partner like that, chances are they would understand and accept my own complex relationship to gender and how I feel about myself in relation to being masc, being a guy, not being a man, being agender-genderqueer.

But even if that was to fit, I doubt I would be lucky enough to have that same person be understanding and supportive of my aroace-ness. It’s unshakeable I’m aroace and that can’t be removed from who I am. Much less in a relationship. I’m proudly aromantic and I’m a sex-averse asexual. Wouldn’t want to chance either of those aspects. (Although I could do without the sexual trauma.)

Actually, regarding tertiary attraction. I don’t feel romantic or sexual attraction as a blanket statement. But I do experience physical attraction, the want to be close, the tactile attraction to cuddle and kiss someone, I crave domesticity and to have a person I can call my home. My person, my home, my domestic bliss. And I don’t know whether what I experience – what I want for my ideal relationship – is actually alterous attraction. I think it is because it goes beyond queerplatonic, even, and it’s more than queerplatonic but the exact mixture it is is individual to the partner I’m with. Which is why I chose to use the term idemalterous; I don’t know whether it really is that different from queerplatonic attraction but I choose to define it as alterous attraction.

I don’t think there is a chance of me finding a person who accepts and supports my identity even if they are the one stuck with me for a partner. My relationship to sex/ my asexuality is a bit layered and I dare say contradictory. I want a partner who finds me sexually attractive and is, uhm, sexually available…? for those few rare once-in-a-blue-moon occasions I would like to sleep with them. With how inherently queer my attraction is, with how inherently queer my “type” is, I do have some ideas about sexual activity tbh. Like, it’s queer sex between queer people anyway, why bother simulating heteros? Although I do have my sexual trauma to consider and I know it’s a huge turn-off for many people that even if I’m interested I wouldn’t be as available as someone without trauma around sex.

Although I partially think my huge trauma around kink is a bigger hinderance than my asexuality/ sex-aversion. A lot more people are a lot more kinky than they give themself credit for and I’m someone who can not “give it a try”. Which disqualifies me for a larger demographic of potential partners than one might think.

I would like to have someone to love, to be domestic with, to hype each other up, care for and support each other because we want to. Yes I would like if that person found me sexually attractive even if I can’t return that, and them being aromantic is somewhat implicit because I need them to understand how attraction and relationships work for me. I would very much like to find my queerplatonic “one and only”, to find someone who can in return also put the work in to make us become that “the one” for each other. But I know my preferences are too specific.

And to have that supportive, accepting, queerplatonically-loving person be an alt/ punk/ goth/ emo femboy? Yeah, big chance that’ll ever happen to me. (Sarcasm.)

So settling with the thought of my ideal relationship being unachievable is easier. I’m not saying a person like this doesn’t exist, I’m not saying people like me can’t find happy relationships.

I’m just saying I don’t believe in myself ever getting that. Finding that. Which is why I refuse to call this hopes or expectations or anything more concrete than preferences and dreams.

Because my wishes are a great deal above someone just treating me well and respecting me. And I know I just don’t get lucky like that so there is no point in calling this a hope when I know full-well it’s an unrealistic dream.

[rekant-aaaa]

FIRST MEETINGS MEME

a   meme   for   first   meetings   and   introduction   threads,   aka   a      ‘      what   you   will   notice   about   my   muse   first      ’      cheat   sheet.   repost,   don’t   reblog.   bold   what   applies.   fill   in   details.      (      please   do   not   remove   the   credit      +      blank   meme   link   )

GENERAL   APPEARANCE

GENDER:      masculine.   feminine.   non-binary.

RACE:   white. (jewish.)

COMPLEXION:  light. some freckles.

HEIGHT:  6′2.

BODY TYPE:   endomorph.   mesomorph.   ectomorph.  

BUILD:  small.   medium.   athletic.   muscular.   soft.   curvy.   voluptuous.   + DETAILS:  big. naturally high t leads to muscle production. they’re built like their father.

HAIR:  none.   buzzed.   short.   medium.   long.   very   long.  + COLOR:  dark. lighter brown highlights when they’ve been spending time in the sun.   + STYLE:   tight curls. shoulder-length.

EYE COLOR:  dark brown. + DETAILS:   intense. observant. always watching you. but also soft and kind. they have a good energy that comes from their eyes.

SCARS: top surgery scars. some other nonimportant ones.

FASHION

STYLE:  vintage.   traditional.   casual.   artsy.   vibrant.   geeky/nerdy.   tomboy.   sporty.   trendy.   preppy.   girly.  bohemian.   elegant.   formal.   grunge.   punk.   rocker.   gothic.   + DETAILS:  comfort + style. a polite young man. i don’t necessarily like to say they have a masculine style of dress (unless i’m joking about it), but you’ll know what i mean if i do. dress shoes.

PALETTE:  black and white, accented with reds and purples. maybe a deep green/olive.

TYPICALLY WEARING:    trousers & a jacket. maybe a scarf, if it’s a cold.

PIERCINGS:  just the one + a daith piercing (because they apparently help with migraines, but you don’t know that’s a myth until after you’ve gotten the piercing).

TATTOOS:  probably, but i haven’t thought about it.

OTHER INFORMATION:     they’re big and strong and taller than most people they meet. they’re the type of person tumblr would joke about being a man and having beautiful eyelashes they don’t deserve.

EXPRESSION

USUAL EXPRESSION:   curious or distracted. it just depends whether their attention is actually on you or not.

DEFAULT BODY LANGUAGE:     extremely casual, but well-postured. despite their size, they’re pretty unimposing.

MOVEMENTS:     a good, strong swimmer, but that’s about it. knows their size & isn’t clumsy. body aware. doesn’t make large, sweeping movements, but rather precise incremental movements with strong intention.

NOTABLE   FOR   RP

PRESENCE:    like, they’re nice enough, but they tease. sometimes when they look at someone they see all their hopes and dreams laid out like a picnic spread just for them to wade through. sometimes they see the exact moment of their death. sometimes they see nothing at all. sometimes they see it later, sometimes they remember having seen it in a dream they had when they were 7. you get it.

APPEARANCE:   i keep saying “they’re big” but it’s the truth. they’re big. they’re very pretty.

SCENT:     weed/cigarette smoke. flowery soap. cologne. smells nice, if you can get past the tobacco.

VOICE:      they’re an alto. give or take a note or two.

ACCENT:  they were raised in california, but their father has a strong new york dialect (don’t ask me which kind, i’m not american - it’s bad enough you guys have states with different accents) that influences their accent. make of that what you will. says ‘sure’ in two syllables.

SPEECH MANNERISMS:     says ‘mm’ a lot. ‘hm’. also ‘like’, ‘so’, etc. takes their time when they speak. never seems to say anything without meaning to. rarely yells, but can project if necessary. otherwise, speaks relatively softly. you might have to lean a little closer.

MISCELLANEOUS:      good at eye contact. they’re a chainsmoker, so if they’re somewhere they can be smoking, they probably are. they’re a sufferer of chronic migraines, and even when they don’t have one, they usually have some kind of dull headache -- sometimes, you can tell from the wincing and the squinting, sometimes you can’t. i feel like they have a very trustworthy air about them, but maybe that’s just me!

[thessalian]

Thess vs Aftermaths

So I survived the worst of the heat wave. Unfortunately, the aftermath is absolute hell. I had more or less anticipated something considering I’d been dealing with two days of oppressive heat, minimal sleep, and overall discomfort. Thing is, because I had the sense to not do much over the two days, the days themselves weren’t as bad as I’d been worried about, so I guess I thought I’d be okay.

Nope. Oh gods NOPE. Today has been a day of being by and large in bed, mostly paying off sleep debt and hoping that would help the unbelievable pain that has currently set up shop in basically everywhere. I guess I could partly blame having to go out to the big supermarket yesterday evening, but there wasn’t an option - I needed painkillers of the mallet-meds variety, and I had to wait until the heat broke at least a bit (32 I managed, though with the odd dizzy spell; 40 would have been murder and I’d have probably fainted or something), and the pharmacy in the big supermarket was the only place open that late. But anyway, yeah - at least I was sensible and called in sick.

Scruffman was understanding. Actually, he said to me that he’d also had some struggle over the course of the last few days - “like having had a workout and overdone it”, is what he said. Which weirdly made it make sense to me as I explained that his body had been literally fighting to keep its core temperature at an even keel and that takes more energy than you’d think. So I have a feeling that when he felt dragged out and achy after these two days, he more or less expected that I’d feel one hell of a lot worse. Thus, understanding, and he wasn’t pushing for me to go back before I was ready - I said I hoped I’d be okay to come in tomorrow (which I do; I’m not good at idle) but that I’d keep him informed, and he just went, “That’s all I can ask. I hope you feel better soon” in tones that were way more sympathetic than the impatience I used to get from people at some of my other jobs, temp and permanent both.

I’m still getting used to the whole “people actually understand the situation I’m in” thing, honestly. I mean, it’s been a year since the fibromyalgia diagnosis but even with HR and Occupational Health and everybody being well aware and understanding of the fact that I’m disabled, I still get anxiety whenever I have to call in sick. Then again, maybe that’s not such a surprise - I’m pretty sure chronic migraine counts as a disability but that one tends to get less understanding because no one ... well, understands about migraines. Way too many people see them as ‘just a headache’. I always feel guilty about the brief moments I have of wishing that the people who say shit like that could experience what a migraine really feels like for just one day - sure, them knowing first-hand would probably be the only way they’d understand, but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Wouldn’t wish a bad pain flare on anyone else either.

I probably should be lying down some more, but I am so. Unutterably. BORED. This is why I prefer going in to work, even when I’m not exactly comfortable. (Well, that and the anxiety, but I don’t exactly have what you’d call a high boredom threshold, which I can more or less blame on the undiagnosed ADHD, but never mind.) But honestly, today I could barely walk, and watering the plants was murder. But they needed it because they’re also having an aftermathy time of it and I am watering them little but often because I do not want them to wither and die. Especially not when so many of them are flowering.

Now I just need something to hyperfocus on while the painkillers kick in, so I can fight both boredom and pain in one fell swoop. At least it’s moderately cool - or, y’know, comparatively cool. Anything’s comparatively cool after yesterday.

[gogoutori]

Life update ramble mostly to get my thoughts together.

I don’t think most people in my life genuinely know how sick I am... Its making me end up second guessing myself/self-gaslighting like “maybe I’m not that sick..?” or I’m somehow being over dramatic. But I’ve had several actually disabled people reassure me that I’m not crazy and this is pretty normal for ppl with chronic pain. I have head pain literally every day at some level now but I’m at max amount of meds I can take outside of starting botox as well which I really don’t want to do with my nerves already so screwy. At this point I’ve just normalized it and work around it. I’m really tired though. Thats the thing I think most people don’t get is just how much this shit takes out of you. I did not understand it. I had an educated guess being around my sister but I was not prepared to be put on my ass so much and not be able to just charge through to do things I used to anymore. It sucks and I’m trying to work through understanding it and giving myself grace. But I’m very harsh on myself by nature, so its not the easiest thing to do. On top of people not understanding the depth of how out of it I am, I feel kinda shit for how flaky I’ve been, but at the same time I need to remind myself that I’m literally not doing anything wrong. My health has to come first even if it makes others feel inconvenienced. My people pleasing side hates this lol

But I’m trying to get better at it. I didn’t officially make any New Years resolutions this year, but I’ve started to shrink my world inward since Jan and focus more on my own physical and mental health. Shutting off the news and purposely trying to focus on mostly positive things. Cutting out negativity has helped a bit cause stress is a big migraine trigger. (any heightened emotion can be, but stress and anger are easiest to tip into starting a headache that leads to a migraine) Simplifying my life to focus on happier things has been good ot my mental health too. I had a lowkey intervention with some ppl helping me realize I was far too focused on other people and their problems rather than investing in myself in a healthy way. I haven’t taken on a therapist again yet, but my last one pointed out that I have a very unkind attitude toward myself and will be far more willing to help others first before seeking help for myself, which when paired with my passive nature, I end up getting taken advantage of even if I don’t see it as that. I know this, but confronting it is awkward. Being selfish to me is buying myself nice things, now it means saying no if I don’t have energy to do something or letting myself rest. 

I’ve been trying to figure out new boundaries as well. I have to get better at voicing them though. Saying no is hard and I feel like I need to justify it with a reason instead of it just being an answer. I can’t be sure my decline in health is tied to my lack of selfcare in the mental department but I’m sure it wasn’t helping. 

Either way, I am on to trying to be healthier for myself this year. There are a lot of good things I’m trying! I’m investing a lot in trying to get my art stuff up and going again. I’m throwing my hat into new cons around the east coast and haven’t been flat out rejected from any yet, which is pretty uplifting seeing as my portfolio is more sparse than I want it to be. I met a lot of awesome new artists at toracon and I’m hoping to see some more artist friends if I make it into any other cons this year. I’m unapologetically into liking what I like rn. (trying not to think about what ppl think about my over tweeting art for what I like etc) I opened a DBA for my sister and I to do more collab stuff and help her take on bigger projects without it messing up her ssi. We have been brainstorming lots of fun ideas and are looking to turn part of the basement into studio space we can work out of. I’m sketching lots of new ideas for apparel designs and I will hopefully get my webcomic and store going by the summer. 

A lot of the good things in the works also hinge on how my physical health is, and I’m hoping to keep that looking better as well. ;w; Once we have more stable weather it should help. I lost about 10-15lbs from sleeping through meals or being too nauseous to eat, but once we have warmer weather I want to do a morning walk and eat something more regularly. I think a more stable schedule will help out too. It just gets thrown out of whack when you have to stay in bed cause moving makes your head throb. ;w; 

Writing all this down is cathartic for me in a way. like typing a little plan or update to myself. Even seeing post memories come up from past years like “I have a bad headache” reminds me I’ve been dealing with this longer than even I think I have been and I’m not crazy.  This whole thing is discombobulated, but its a snapshot in my life for now. 

Reminding myself to rest, that I’m not crazy, that good things are to come~

[kckenobi]

I wish you would write a fic where Obi-Wan sort of forgets to tell Anakin what actually happened on Zigoola. Bail is over for dinner or something one night and just starts casually bringing it up like Anakin knows the whole story and what happened to Obi-Wan’s knee. Maybe after the dinner Anakin accosts Obi-Wan about it and finds out that Obi-Wan has had chronic pain for a year or so and hasn’t mentioned it once. I am a sucker for your hurt/comfort fics if you could not tell, lol. Thanks for consistently writing my favorite fics of all time!

It wasn’t that Anakin didn’t like Bail Organa. He knew he was quite a respectable man–a rarity in the Senate, that was for sure. And Padmé certainly liked him. Obi-Wan, too. He knew they were all good friends, and that was perfectly fine. Completely, totally fine.

And Anakin wasn’t jealous at all.

So when the dinner invitation came, he acted blasé enough. Obi-Wan was striding into their quarter one afternoon during their brief leave from the front, looking down at his comm.

“Bail invited us to dinner,” he said.

Anakin dropped the droid parts he’d been working on and tried his hardest not to whirl around.

“What?”

“This evening,” Obi-Wan replied. “If you’re available.”

“He invited me?”

“Yes, and me,” Obi-Wan said. “That is the meaning of the word ‘us,’ you know.”

“I–well, yeah. I just–isn’t he your friend?”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. “Well, forgive me. I didn’t realize we weren’t allowed any mutual friends. I’ll have to tell Rex and Kit and Quin I won’t be seeing them anymore, then–”

Anakin rolled his eyes, ignoring the jest. “Fine. Yeah, I’m free. I guess.” He looked down at his hands, which were still stained with grease. “I’ll get cleaned up.”

And for reasons he couldn’t explain, during the ride over and the walk to Bail’s door, and the whole introduction and small talk and drinks–Anakin felt nervous.

Bail was just–well, he was intimidating. He was twenty years older than Anakin, probably, and so well-spoken and calm. He and Obi-Wan and Padmé would make good friends actually, come to think of it. But Anakin had never been good at this side of things–give him a lightsaber, give him a droid, and he was fine. But put him at a dinner party?

“Anakin, what’s your drink of choice?”

They were seated on the couch now, and Bail was looking at him.

“Oh, um…I’m not picky,” Anakin replied. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Corellian Brandy? You sure?” Bail replied, raising an eyebrow. “Obi-Wan’s favorite, though.”

“Oh, please,” Obi-Wan said, rolling his eyes. “After…well, the last time you made me drink Corellian Brandy, I think I’ll pass.”

“Trust me, it tastes much better when you’re not on the brink of death.”

Obi-Wan laughed, but there was a darkness there. A joke Anakin didn’t understand. He knew the two of them had been on a mission recently, while he and Ahsoka were away. Obi-Wan had been pretty beat up afterward, but told him not to worry about it. But ‘brink of death’ didn’t sound like a “don’t worry about it” kind of situation. ‘Brink of death’ sounded like–

“What are you talking about?” Anakin blurted.

Bail and Obi-Wan met eyes. “Just an inside joke,” Bail murmured.

He disappeared into the liquor cabinet.

They drank their brandy mostly quietly, with Bail and Obi-Wan chattering about politics. Anakin watched them–studying the way they seemed to know each other, the ease in Obi-Wan’s posture he only displayed with people like Cody, or Quinlan, or Anakin himself. And it made his chest tight, somehow. What was it they shared that Anakin didn’t know?

But he also noticed something else–the way Obi-Wan’s eyebrows were pinched slightly in the middle. His tell for headaches and migraines, usually.

In the Force, Anakin nudged him. Obi-Wan looked his way. “What?”

Anakin’s face lightly burned. So much for being discreet. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,”Obi-Wan said. “Why would you say that?”

“You look–you’re–”

Because now that he thought about it, Obi-Wan had looked wrong for a while. He was always tired, and recently when they sparred he always seemed slow, too easily bested. He didn’t eat as much, or sleep as much, and sometimes he limped. And if the headaches had been bad before, then now…

“Is it your knee again, Obi-Wan?” Bail said.

Both of them turned.

And Obi-Wan’s gaze sent a warning. “I don’t know what you mean. My knee is, and has always been, fine.”

The words were icy. Anakin’s eyes widened.

“Is that so,” Bail said, leaning forward. “It wasn’t fine the last time I saw you.”

“It was. I’m perfectly alright–then and now,” he replied, setting his brandy down on the table. “I suppose I have a bit of a headache. But, as you taught me once, it’s nothing a drink won’t fix.”

“You know that’s not true,” Anakin said. “Your head’s been worse ever since…well, ever since you went with him on that mission a few months ago.”

“Well, of course it has,” Bail said. “Because–”

“No,” Obi-Wan said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Because Zigoola did a number on both of us, but you’re the one who’s gonna feel the after effects of a Sith Planet–”

Anakin’s head whirled. “A Sith planet?”

“No–”

But he didn’t get to finish. Because, just as he was about to repeat that nothing was wrong, Obi-Wan sucked in a breath. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Anakin shook his head. This was one scenario where he hated to be right.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and ran his hands across his face. Anakin looked at Bail. “His migraines are–”

“I know,” said Bail. Not sharply, but still, Anakin felt…well, he was supposed to know Obi-Wan best.

“Yeah,” Anakin said. “Um, is there somewhere dark and quiet he could go?”

“I’m alright, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, voice coming from somewhere between his hands. “It…came on suddenly, but it isn’t…well, I’ve had worse.”

Anakin nodded. If he could talk at all, that was good. He noticed, abruptly, that Bail had a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, then we should probably get you home,” Anakin said. “Can you–”

But Bail was already helping him stand, slipping an arm beneath his shoulders. Anakin rushed to the other side.

They helped him to the speeder. Anakin opened the door, while Bail lowered him into the passenger’s seat and closed it behind him. Anakin was about to say goodbye and climb in the driver’s side, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“Anakin,” Bail said. “Can we talk inside?”

Anakin looked through the speeder window. Obi-Wan’s head lolled back against the seat, his eyes closed tight.

“I should get him home–”

“It won’t be long. But there’s…something you should know.”

Anakin stared at him, long and hard. Something you should know. After months of being told that everything was fine, don’t worry about it, nothing happened while he was away. Something you should know, at long last.

He tried his best not to storm back into Bail’s house.

Inside, they didn’t sit down. Anakin folded his arms across his chest, face drawn as he waited.

“I’m listening.”

Bail walked past him, as if starting to pace. But he stopped, some distance away, face drawn as he looked back at Anakin.

“I did it on purpose.”

Anakin turned his head. “What?”

“I knew he hadn’t told you,” Bail said, nodding at a sleeping Obi-Wan. “About what happened on Zigoola. But someone needed to know, someone besides me, and maybe Master Yoda. He needs someone looking out for him. I could do that, when we were together, but we aren’t now.” He exhaled. “He needs you.”

Anakin could think of about a million things to say to that. But what actually came out was, “What happened, then? On Zigoola?”

Bail looked far away. Like he was looking at Anakin, but he wasn’t. And when he finally spoke, his voice was soft.

“I don’t think I should be the one to tell you,” Bail said. “It should come from him.”

“He won’t tell me.”

“He will now, I think,” Bail almost smiled. “I forced his hand. Because someone has to know. I have Breha looking out for me at home. Your w–I mean, Padmé looking out for me here. And now, he’ll have you.”

Anakin’s eyes flickered down, whether from embarrassment or worry he couldn’t say. He did need to leave–Obi-Wan was waiting.

But he fought the urge to run out right away. He looked at Bail, saw the genuine care there. The worry. Maybe it was the years Bail had on him, but he almost looked…fatherly. He didn’t know if Bail had children. But he bet he’d make a good one, one day.

Anakin did have to go. Obi-Wan was waiting out there, hurting. But he did pause. Shook Bail’s hand, however awkwardly.

“Thanks,” he said. “For telling me. And…and for looking out for him, then and now.” He exhaled. “I’m glad to know he has a friend in you. That we both do.”

As he stepped back outside, Bail watching from the door, Obi-Wan's words echoed back to him from this afternoon. Well. Maybe we are friends, after all.

He drove home as slowly and gently as possible–for once, taking care to follow the speed limits and traffic laws. Obi-Wan was a little worse now, he could tell from the pinch in his face and the way he inhaled sharply whenever they passed brighter lights. But they made it home without incident, and soon enough they were walking back into Obi-Wan’s quarters.

Anakin darkened the room. Got him water, his meds, sleep clothes. And when he was situated, and Anakin knew he could leave him to sleep it off, he paused. Sat down on the edge of the bed.

“You should’ve told me, you know,” he said quietly. “I’m not gonna argue it out with you right now. But I just need you to know you’re an idiot.”

From beneath the sheets, Obi-Wan hummed. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, well.” He shifted, so he was sitting up against the headboard in Obi-Wan’s bed. “You’ll tell me the truth, then? When you’re better?”

A pause. Then, a nod.

“Good. Otherwise, I’d have to go back to Bail and squeeze it out of him with a little more Corellian Brandy.”

Obi-Wan hummed again. His voice was raspy and soft. “Glad to see you two have bonded over my idiocy.”

“The best of friends do,” he said. “But anyway. I’m just…glad he’s there for you, is all.”

Anakin stood from the bed, pausing just once to lay a hand gently on Obi-Wan’s hair.

“I’ll be in the kitchen. Call if you need anything.”

Though he expected Obi-Wan wouldn’t even need to. If it got worse, he’d sense it from anywhere on Coruscant.

He shut the door behind him, and resolved to make some caf and pick a holo to watch until the worst had passed. Until the worst had passed, and they could talk.

Soon. Soon, the truth.

For now, he was content to wait. And be there.

[goddammitstacey]

Hello, friendos, welcome to the Thunderdome that is my asshole physical form. Many of you might know me from such struggles as "oh god, why is my uterus trying to kill me?" and "wow, mental health, could you be more of a cunt?"

Little did you (or I) know, life is full of chronic illness plot twists! This year's sudden appearance from stage-right is months-long consistent headaches/migraines.

This fun new form of chronic pain presented in February of this year, not long after I had COVID. We're not sure if the two are related, yet, as my doctors are ruling all other possibilities out first.

Which is why I'm making this post.

Being sick is real, REAL expensive. It's a long shitty story but I've basically run out of effective pain management options which means I can't work as a consistent content writer anymore. This is just in time for me to be referred to a neurologist whose initial consult is a coooooool $400AUD.

I'm in the process of securing some work I can actually do and/or skulking back to government assistance, but in the meantime, I need some help.

That's where y'all come in (if you're in the position to do so, of course).

Your mission, should you choose to accept it:

1. Commission art from me

I do pet portraits, people portraits, or pretty much anything else that can be vectorised. More info here.

2. Buy an art print

My shop is a little sparse at the moment but I have a few physical and digital prints up for sale. The physical can only be shipped within Australia at this point so if you’re international you’d only be able to buy a digital print and get it printed yourself (soz).

If you're keen on any of my other work and want to buy a print let me know and I'll upload it as a product for you to purchase. Instagram's probably the most comprehensive library of my current pieces.

3. Buy my stories

I *am* on Amazon here.

But because a) they're the devil and b) I don't know what their payout schedule is, if you'd like one of my shorts as an eBook just chuck me an email and I'll sort you out a copy for $2AUD.

If you want to try before you buy, all my shorts are up on my site for free here.

And my email is: stacey.lehane@gmail.com

4. Take extra special pity on my poor sick ass and just donate to me

Real talk. I HATE accepting help from people, monetarily or not. But a lot of you have badgered me into offering this as an option so HERE YOU GO, YOU BASTARDS.

If you'd just like to sling me some cash you can do so via either Pay ID (if you're in Australia, obviously) or PayPal. Both are hooked up to my email address:

stacey.lehane@gmail.com

If you've read this far in, thank you. If you could give this a like or even a reblog that would really help me reach more people.

Thanks, all <3

[divinesouldariax]

26 and/or 70 from the random dialogue prompts for ashton!

I wrote this before last night's episode had some excellent Ashton and Laudna bonding moments, so like, i'm extremely ;-; abt their friendship right now. Hope you like it!

Send me prompts? Or these ones? (pls specify!)

Content warning for chronic migraines and health issues that come along with them

26. "Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before." and/or 70. “You know what? Never-mind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway.”

“Are you alright?”

It was only by virtue of Ashton’s unflappable nature (ha) and the fact that they’ve gotten a little bit used to Laudna’s Whole Deal that he didn’t jump and yelp at the voice whispering into his head in the dim room. They were staying in a tiny inn with tiny rooms and tiny beds mostly built for dwarves and similarly sized folk, in a small mining town on the way to the Heartmoor. The whole group had been getting more comfortable sharing a living space (which was fucking weird, but not unwelcome), but even Fearne had been forced to admit that they wouldn't all fit in one room here. She and Orym and Imogen and Laudna had claimed one room, sleeping two by two in the little beds, which left Ashton, Chetney, and Fresh Cut Grass in the second room.

Most everyone was still downstairs getting food, though, which was why Ashton was startled to hear Laudna whispering from the other side of the wall. They debated pretending to already be asleep.

"Aaaaashton," Laudna continued.

"Fuck. What?" Ashton demanded. They sat down on their bed, rubbing at an aching, dark green bruise on his arm.

"I said, are you alright?"

"Why the fuck wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I don't know, but you don't usually skip out on the food and drinks part of the evening. And you took a few pretty gnarly hits out on the road today from that animated tree," Laudna said.

"I've had worse," Ashton stated.

"We know. You were also pinching the bridge of your nose and closing your eyes an awful lot," added Laudna. "Do you have a headache?"

Ashton almost laughed. When don't I? "Nah. Just tired."

"Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before," scoffed Laudna. "Come on, now, I've been with Imogen for two years. I know what a migraine looks like."

They made a face and tried to send a message back that was just an irritated groan.

It must have worked, because Laudna replied, "I can leave you alone if you want, I don't mean to bother you. But I have some tea that I was making Imogen anyway. She also has a headache coming on. Would you like some? I know they're not caused by the same thing, but...a hot drink never hurt anyone."

"Unless it's poisoned, or you spill it," Ashton retorted quickly.

Laudna's appreciative grin was audible. "Truer words."

"Sure. Why the fuck not?" They didn't actually know why they were agreeing to this. He doubted the tea would actually help stop the tide of pain coming in behind his left eye, the dizziness and weird double vision tinged with color outlines that he could swear were making things move at the wrong speed, the way they sometimes felt like the ground beneath them was taking them forcefully by the glass and gold in his head and squeezing, pulling him downwards with irresistible weight. Sometimes, when they were especially beat up or exhausted, they just didn't have the strength to resist the pull and ended up laying facedown on the ground until sleep claimed him.

"May I come over?" Laudna asked.

Ashton nodded, winced as the shifting caused a slight grinding sound in his neck and a spike of burning pain through his head, and then remembered that Laudna couldn't see them. "Fuck. Yeah, sure." Today would definitely be one of the days that ended in total collapse. He could already feel the heightened gravity pulling at his head and limbs. They felt a little nauseous.

"On my way!" Laudna said in a sing-song voice. About thirty seconds later, there was a knock at the door.

"I don't think I locked it!" Ashton called. He hoped he hadn't. They really didn't want to try standing up at the moment. Seemed like it would go poorly.

The door opened and shut behind Laudna quietly, like she was trying not to make a lot of noise. "Here," she whispered (not in the creepy magic way this time, just the normal way). She held out a mug. "I'm honestly not sure what exactly is in this one, but Imogen says it helps."

Ashton took the mug and sniffed the liquid curiously. It smelled sharp, definitely herbal, a little minty. Not bad. Not his first choice for an evening drink, but not bad. They took a sip. "Not bad," they confirmed out loud. "And you don't have to fuckin' whisper around me, I won't shatter if you talk loudly."

"Noise doesn't make it worse? It does for Imogen, I suppose I was just being cautious," Laudna said.

Ashton shrugged and winced.

"But moving does make it worse," Laudna observed.

Technically, they hadn't confirmed Laudna's migraine theory at all. Maybe if he just stayed really still, she would go away and stop asking questions. They gave it a shot.

Nope. "Are you in a lot of pain?" Laudna asked after just a few seconds, with all the lack of tact and boundary awareness that Ashton actually admired about her.

"Hm. You know what? Never mind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway," Ashton said. He took another drink of the tea. It was a little numbing as it hit the back of their throat--not quite like alcohol or other drugs, more like ice on a bruise. It didn't fix anything, but it felt...alright. "Yeah, fuckin' hurts. Weird magic shit Milo poured in there to make it work again--" He reached up and tapped the glass lightly with one finger (and still gritted his teeth when it sent a reverberation through their broken skull). "Fucks me up sometimes. After it does shit in a fight, especially."

"Does anything help?" Laudna asked, leaning forward and propping her chin up on her hands.

"Just...sleep, usually. Lots of it." They paused, taking another swig of the tea. "But this isn't bad," he repeated.

She smiled, wide and unsettling. "Good." Another minute of silence. "Why hadn't you told us about the headaches before?"

"None of anyone's fuckin' business," Ashton said amicably.

"That's fair!"

“I mean, ‘m not hiding it. Been with you all long enough, it might come up. Is coming up. Probably should tell you all--” Ashton's vision blurred and shifted and cast the whole room in outlines of blue and red. He must have swayed visibly, because Laudna reached out and grabbed his mug right before he could drop it. Breathing heavily, too distracted to even care about Laudna watching this happen, they closed their eyes. Inhaled. Let their arms go limp. Exhaled. Felt the weight, the incessant weight, swirl in his brain as bright colors exploded with pain behind his left eyelid. They let the wave break over them, losing contact with their body for a second or two. Or five. Or...sixty. Who knew?

"Forty-three, forty-four, forty-five," Laudna was counting quietly.

"Fuck," Ashton groaned.

"Are you back with me?"

"Think so. Fuck, were you counting how long I was out?" That was a wild concept.

"Mm, I was taught that it was important to know how long if someone blacked out like that. Call it old-fashioned."

They had fallen backwards onto the bed. They didn't try to sit back up. "You said like, forty-something seconds?"

"That's what it seemed like. Was that normal, or would you like me to get Fresh Cut Grass?" said Laudna.

"Fuck, no. I mean, don't bother them, they can't help anyway. They've tried." Cautiously, Ashton moved his hand up and rubbed his eyes. The tensing of muscles in their shoulder to move made everything swirl and spin again, and it felt for a few seconds like gravity got less intense, causing a drop in the pit of their stomach and a quiet gasp before things settled again. They tried not to whimper.

"Time to go to sleep?" Laudna suggested.

"Mm-hmm," Ashton managed.

"Need help with anything, since I'm here?" she said.

Painfully, they pulled their legs up onto the bed and curled up on their side. The weird starfield in his vision intensified, threatening to make him pass out again, and they breathed shallowly. "Nah. I'll be fine tomorrow. No guarantee how late I'll sleep, and if any of you fuckers wake me up before like, noon, expect a punch in the face and for me to be completely useless all day."

"Understandable." Laudna wasn't walking away.

"Goodnight," Ashton said pointedly.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked.

“I don’t give a shit, but I do want to sleep and I’m not gonna talk to you anymore.” He grabbed the pillow and kind of buried his face in it. “Too fucking tired to be social.”

"Ahh. Goodnight, then," Laudna told them.

They mumbled something indistinct in response and was asleep before she left the room.

[summerofspock]

hi everyone, I’ve been thinking about this for a bit and wanted to write a thing about what I’ve been going through the last 6 months or so. No one owes anyone an explanation, but I thought I’d give one. CW Health stuff/chronic illness

So if you’ve followed me for a bit it’s probably for Good Omens and you know that I started writing at a wild pace starting last year in July. I managed to keep up that pace and was fairly happy in the fandom.

Car Trouble both seized me by the whole brain and blew up in popularity and I wrote 100k in two months. Unfortunately at the same time, my grandmother passed away, and lockdown went into effect. 

Family stuff has always been complex for me. I loved my grandma a lot, but it did mean dealing with a part of my family I prefer to avoid so I struggled for a while. I have Bipolar II and Generalized Anxiety and I’m medicated and see a therapist and do all the right stuff but it does mean I can spiral on occasion and I spiraled a little.

Fandom and writing were my getaway spaces. Writing shut my brain off. I thought about nothing but the story when I was writing and I needed that.

Then came May. I wasn’t sleeping well. I’ve always had migraines and I noticed I was getting more of them. One a week. I thought it was allergies but my allergy pills weren’t helping. I was taking ibuprofen or naproxen nearly everyday which I knew was bad but they weren’t helping either. The headaches started getting worse until I would have 1 or 2 days a week where the pain was so bad I could barely do anything and the malaise was so bad that I felt I was in an intense episode of depression, but the mood didn’t last long enough to qualify. My BD mood swings were back but shortened. 

I was scraping by at work basically sleeping the day away, joining meetings but unable to focus, replying to emails in between naps. I’m also going to school part time and I was barely keeping my head above water. I started tracking the headaches but there was no pattern. I felt pretty helpless and started looking into FMLA and leaves of absence.

Writing was still an escape but I couldn’t do as much of it. I didn’t have energy or creativity and my patience was gone. Fandom drama pissed me off and I felt like the worst sort of person, but writing felt like the only joy I had left in my life so I kept going.

I got in to see a neuro and am on preventatives now. Down to one headache a week and sometimes every other week. I can go up to ten days headache free which is fabulous! I do wish it was better than that since one headache can start and last three to five to ten days but I’m still figuring it out. I’m doing all the recommended stuff and tracking everything. I’m sure I’ll crack the code. It’s like any chronic illness and who knows? Maybe I just have to live with one a week. It’s better than it was.

So if you’re following my fics and you noticed a significant drop off in May, there’s your explanation. That’s why all my WIPs don’t update weekly. And besides the fact that my life lives at the whims of my fickle fickle neurons, my dedicated Saturday coffee shop writing time has also been taken away for obvious reasons. Until recently, it didn’t matter because I couldn’t exactly go anywhere on Saturdays as I was laid up feeling like I had an icepick in my left eye. I’m hoping I can find a suitable in home replacement now that I’m mobile again.

Long story short: I’m doing better. I still have my job. I have a part time internship. I’m still going to school. And I’m still writing. It all makes me pretty happy.

[chaosintheavenue]

Fallout OC Survey Results!

333 responses later, the results are in!

For the most part, I'm just going to present the data without giving much commentary for now. The way Google Forms decided to display the response data worked well for some questions, and not so much for others, and a lot of the time there was just too much data to make a coherent graph or chart, so this post will be a bit all over the place in terms of format. It's also going to be long, so I'll continue under a cut.

(It looks like the cut isn’t working, sorry guys -_-)

Name

I didn't recognise most of the names I saw here, which means I have plenty of OCs to discover!

The most common names were Nova, Thomas, Six, Max and Charlie, with three entries each. Other names that appeared twice were Nathan, Poppy, Anthony, Judith, Chase, Ashley, Joshua, Jesse, Anna, Eleanor and Daisy. There were also a few very specific duplicates that I suspect were the same OCs being filled in separately for different games (which is fine!).

Game

Are they the in-game player character?

Faction

We had a lot of factions represented!

Railroad: 61 Minutemen: 60 Brotherhood of Steel: 48 Independent Vegas or Yes Man: 34 Caesar's Legion: 28 NCR: 28 Followers of the Apocalypse: 24 The Institute: 17 Mr House: 12 Raiders (Nuka World or in general): 12 Non-canon factions: 8 Reilly's Rangers: 7 Enclave: 6 Vault 13: 4 Responders: 4 Great Khans: 4 Tunnel Snakes: 4 Arroyo: 3 Powder Gangers: 3 The Kings: 3 Goodneighbor: 2 Slavers or Paradise Falls: 2 Cassidy Caravans: 1 Acadia: 1 The Pitt: 1 Boomers: 1 Vault 76: 1 Talon Company: 1 Crimson Caravan: 1 White Glove Society: 1 Brotherhood Outcasts: 1 Sorrows: 1 Unspecified tribe: 1 Mojave Express: 1 Regulators: 1 Omertas: 1

Age

Ages ranged from 6 to 252, with the majority being close to or in their twenties (excluding the time that Sole Survivors spent on ice). I decided to leave out the decade question, since it seems to have confused a lot of people and didn't add much considering there was already an age question.

Gender

Cis female: 166 Cis male: 101 Nonbinary: 26 Trans male: 15 Trans female: 9 Agender: 8 Male, unknown if cis or trans: 2 Genderfluid: 2 Intersex: 1 Genderqueer: 1

Sexuality

Yes, I absolutely did make this chart from scratch just to include the flags lol. Green is straight and orange is 'other', by the way. The most common responses in the 'other' category were demi and questioning, with five each.

Species

Race or ethnicity

White: 158 Mixed: 51 Hispanic/Latine: 36 Asian: 31 Black: 15 Other: 8 Native American: 7

Place of birth

US states

I wasn't sure if the map was very clear, so I'll include a list anyway.

California: 53 Massachusetts: 45 Washington DC: 44 Nevada: 36 Arizona: 21 Utah: 11 West Virginia: 8 New York: 7 Oregon: 5 Virginia: 5 Washington: 4 Florida: 4 Colorado: 4 Maryland: 3 New Mexico: 3 Oklahoma: 3 Texas: 3 Montana: 3 Pennsylvania: 2 Maine: 2 Kentucky: 2 Wisconsin: 2 Michigan: 2 Georgia: 2 Illinois: 2 New Jersey: 1 South Carolina: 1 Tennessee: 1 Wyoming: 1 Missouri: 1 Idaho: 1 Ohio: 1 Mississippi: 1 North Carolina: 1 Vermont: 1 Alabama: 1 Alaska: 1 Puerto Rico: 1

Other countries

Russia: 4 Mexico: 4 Ireland: 3 UK: 2 Japan: 2 Australia: 1 Sweden: 1 Norway: 1 Italy: 1 Canada: 1 Germany: 1 Maybe also one for Georgia- I couldn't tell if one person meant the state or country!

Languages spoken

English: 331 Spanish: 90 Latin: 59 A Fallout universe tribal language: 27 Mandarin: 15 French: 15 ASL: 10 Russian: 8 Japanese: 8 Irish Gaelic: 4 Italian: 3 Cantonese: 2 German: 2 For the sake of brevity (which is pretty futile at this point, but anyway), all of the following had one response: Hebrew, Norwegian, Arabic, Cherokee, Sanskrit, Punjabi, Hindi, Korean, Romanian, Shoshoni, Yiddish, Indonesian, Malay, Navajo, Swedish, Vietnamese, binary and sheet music

Medical conditions, disabilities, neurodivergence and the likes

PTSD: 52 Depression: 31 Vision problems, including missing an eye: 28 Anxiety: 27 ADHD: 21 Autism: 17 Memory problems: 16 Amputee: 13 Hearing problems: 9 Migraines or headaches: 7 Asthma: 6 Bipolar: 6 Traumatic brain injury: 6 (only counted when explicitly stated, implied for many more) Chronic pain: 5 Improperly healed injury: 5 Nonverbal, semiverbal, selective mutism, etc: 3 Borderline personality disorder: 3 Narcissistic personality disorder: 2 Seizures: 2 Psyker: 2 Nerve damage: 2 Radiation sickness: 2 Eczema: 2 OCD: 2 Dissociation: 2 Claustrophobia: 2 Eating disorder: 2 Spine problems: 2 Schizophrenia: 2 And again, a list of all with only one response: night terrors, kleptomania, dyslexia, needs a leg brace, rheumatoid arthritis, endometriosis, arachnodactyly, depersonalisation-derealisation disorder, psychosis, hallucinations, New Plague (complete aside: I would be extremely interested in hearing from the creator of this particular OC!), Broca's aphasia, schizoaffective disorder, inability to taste, dependent personality disorder, apraxia, autophobia, agoraphobia, Alzheimer's, albinism, insomnia, post-partum depression, synaesthesia, agraphia, photosensitivity, antisocial personality disorder

Addictions

Karma

Combat style

Aaand favourite cola flavour!

Cherry: 63 None: 62 Regular: 61 Quantum: 38 Dark: 34 Victory: 22 Quartz: 19 Orange: 16 Grape: 13 Other: 4

Once again, a big thank you to everyone who responded. There will be a second part to this featuring the canon character relationship questions, because I have a slightly more in-depth idea for analysing those, and this post is more than long enough already!

Let me know if anything seems off about this post, I put it together really quickly!

[cuttlefishkitch]

hello! i haven't talked to you before, but ron said that i could ask you for some advice on writing eds? (i'd like to know things to avoid/common things that could come up in everyday life that would be good to mention/the sort of aids and stuff they'd have maybe?/anything else you think is relevant)

Hi! Sorry this took so long, a combination of ADHD and chronic pain slowed me way the fuck down. Thank you for being patient! 

EDIT: WEIRD HEEL THINGS I FORGOT!!

So, before I get into this I should probably say I technically haven’t been diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome (EDS for anyone reading) because it’s one of those syndromes that takes forever to get diagnosed with (it took a friend of mine’s mother over 30 years to get dxed). Many doctors, and everyone I know who does have EDS agree with me that it’s probably what causes my chronic joint pain and some of my other chronic issues. But just because three separate doctors have said “Yeah Probably” doesn’t mean I’m diagnosed!! Only a geneticist can do that!! And they had two-three year waitlists BEFORE the apocalypse happened.

I am diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), Small Fiber Neuropathy, and potentially misdiagnosed with Fibromyalgia (once I get properly tested for EDS I might get undiagnosed with this because I don’t have most of the main symptoms of Fibro, but I got diagnosed with it anyway because it’s what doctors misDX you with when they don’t know what’s wrong with you and don’t want to do more tests).

All that said, I’ve done a lot of research about EDS (mainly because it’s the only thing that explains all my symptoms since doctors seem incapable of doing so), and know a few people who have either confirmed or suspected EDS, so I’ll link to some stuff, talk about the symptoms that often come with EDS, explain how the symptoms I have affect me, because just because someone’s not diagnosed doesn’t mean they aren’t having symptoms, and probs elaborate a bit about writing physical disabilities and chronic pain in general because it’s super important to me! 

So RESOURCES aka how to make sure your post never sees the light of day because you’re linking things and tumblr hates it when people give other people information!!

Youtubers! If you want to know about the day to day of living with EDS or any disability or chronic illness I super suggest finding a youtuber that makes videos about their life. My EDS favorites are

Jessica Kellgren-Fozard

Annie Elainey

Amy Lee Fisher

Websites! If you’re asking random folks on tumblr I’m assuming (and hoping) you’ve already done the basic WebMD google searches and looked over the seemingly ridiculous lists of symptoms and related conditions, so here are a few websites that are made more for people than for doctors.

The Ehlers Danlos Society

OhTWIST (That’s Why I’m So Tired)

ChronicPainPartners (the fact that they have an entire section of articles called “Dealing with Doctors” should really tell you something)

Books! If you feel like doing actual reading! I suggest reading books written by people with Ehlers Danlos, to get a feel for how they portray themselves. I’m not saying steal, but it’s probably a good point of comparison to see how your portrayal feels. (haven’t actually read these b/c my ADHD doesn’t let me read)

Ria Ruse by Morgan S. Ray (a superhero book with a disabled super MC!!)

Mysteries of Maybelle by Imani Benfell (Imani is still in high school and has already written and self-published a book cause she didn’t have enough representation for herself how cool is she!!)

Bodies in Motion by Liana Brooks (tw for pregnancy problems and miscarriages in the link, because it’s a blog post talking about integrating EDS symptoms into the story without explicitly naming them as such)

OKAY, now for some rambling about EDS SYMPTOMS!!!

Ehlers Danlos is one monster of a genetic condition in complexity and variety. There are THIRTEEN different identified types of EDS, it often comes with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) and/or POTS, and can lead to various other conditions like gastroparesis, chiari malformation, craniocervical instability, and/or bad teeth. So if you’re going to be writing a character with EDS consider what other comorbid conditions they might also have. I’m mainly going to be talking about Hypermobile EDS (hEDS) because it’s what I probably have and what I’m most familiar with. That said there is a lot of overlap in symptoms with the other varieties.

I started typing this section and realized I was going to have to break it down even more so we’re going to talk about Chronic Pain, Unstable Joints (Dislocations and Subluxations), Skin Things, Mobility Issues, and Other Weird Shit and how those things get addressed separately.

Gonna get the Other Weird Shit out of the way first. Because EDS is a malfunction of connective tissue it can fuck up all sorts of random things. For instance, I and many other people w/ hEDS have trouble swallowing. Shit gets stuck in my throat, I sometimes choke on and have to cough up food, and pills can be hard to swallow, which sucks cause I take A Lot Of Pills. If it doesn’t cause full-on gastroparesis it can cause IBS or other digestive problems b/c the digestive tract is mostly made of connective tissue. It can potentially cause heart problems even if they aren’t as big of a risk as in some other forms of EDS. Premature osteoarthritis is common because what you need is more joint pain. And Fatigue OH BOY THE FATIGUE. And of course the headaches, can’t forget those pesky migraines can we!

AND piezogenic papules!! I completely forgot!! Piezogenic papules are little white bumps that appear when you put weight on your heel. In some people they hurt, but in others they don’t. They’re technically tiny little herniations of fat peaking through the fascia in the heel. They were added as part of the diagnostic criteria for hEDS in 2017!

Now for Skin Things cause it’s not as big a thing in hEDS as it is in other forms. Basically, in a lot of forms of EDS, the skin is extra stretchy and extra delicate. It bruises and tears easily, people with the extreme versions of this can accidentally scratch something into an open wound if they aren’t careful. My skin is pretty soft and sensitive, I def have the typical velvety skin, and as is pretty par for the course of someone with hEDS my skin is a little stretchy, and sorta delicate. I’m not as tissue-papery as some people get, but I almost always have at least one mystery bruise or scrape b/c existing is hazardous. Most of scars are also pretty normal, unlike the extremely papery and atrophic scars (though I have a few tiny acne scars that are atrophic) that are common with other kinds of hEDS. Something that I DO have is Lots of Stretch Marks, all over my thighs, and even down to my calves. Which wouldn’t be abnormal, except for the fact that I’ve never been over 145 lbs and I’ve never been pregnant. Having a lot of stretch marks or striations in the skin without due cause happens because the structure of the skin isn’t as strong as it is in people with a normal amount of connective tissue.

I don’t have to worry as much about my skin but people that do are usually very careful with adhesives because they can irritate or tear the skin, which sucks when you need a lot of bandaids cause your darn skin won’t do its job.

Now on to the meatier stuff and since I’m mostly working backward let’s do Mobility Issues!! These can happen in loads of ways, but a lot of what causes these in people with EDS are the other two things I wanna talk about. Unstable joints lead to increased risk of injury when doing stuff people with fully functioning joints can do.

For context, I’m an ambulatory wheelchair user, meaning I can walk, but a lot of the time it’s better if use a chair. Mine is mostly for my POTS symptoms, but the fact that my legs aren’t also in absolute agony is a big plus. I use a custom manual wheelchair with a SmartDrive (b/c I’m very fucking fortunate and have good insurance) whenever I leave the house and have to be “walking” for more than a few minutes at a time. I can’t fully self-propel in a manual chair because it would be damaging to the joints in my arms and hands, but the smaller chair is easier to maneuver in less than accessible spaces (like almost everywhere). There was about a month-long span where I used a very cheap and very bulky electric chair while I was waiting on the ideal set up I have now. Before that, I also briefly used, and sometimes still use, an up-right posture cane.

People with EDS have widely varying mobility issues because of how uniquely it can manifest. My cane only gave me a little help with balance because if I used it in any prolonged capacity any pain it took away from my legs was relocated to my arms, and as an artist, my arms are more important to me!

If you’re going to write a character with EDS having mobility issues as a result of their EDS the best thing to do is to narrow down their specific needs. Are their knees complete and utter garbage but their shoulders and wrists strong? Maybe they can get away with using a cane. Can they not stand for longer than 5 minutes because of the vertigo from their POTS? Maybe they need a manual wheelchair. Would propelling themself damage their back and arm joints? An electric chair might be necessary! Plenty of people with EDS use all sorts of combinations of these aides to get around their life, consider how your character’s good and bad days would be. Do they have back up plans if they overestimate themselves? There can be a lot to manage, but don’t let it scare you off! Sometimes I try and make it into a resource management game (because I’m a game designer and that’s what I do), to make evaluating my energy and mobility needs more fun!

But now let's tackle some of the reasons those mobility aides might be needed. Unstable Joints.

Ever stepped wrong and rolled your ankle? It hurts for a few steps and then kinda fixes itself, or maybe it bothers you for the rest of the day and you put it up and ice it when you get home? When I was walking around outside my house that would happen AT LEAST once a month, usually more. Some times I’m sitting wrong and when I get up my knee isn’t a knee anymore and decides to just give out from under me. My knuckles are made of unruly popcorn and they Don’t Want To Stay Home!! Oh! And my shoulder is more often out a little out of its socket than it is fully in.

Unstable joints lead to Dislocations and Subluxations of varying intensity, and some people get them more frequently than others. Some can be severe enough to necessitate hospital visits and even surgery, some subluxations are so banal (like my fUCKING SHOULDER) that you just learn to live with the pain.

If a character is going to be in high action, combat-heavy scenarios, chances are they’re going to be popping out joints left and right. Hell, depending on the severity of their joint laxity they could be doing the same sitting at a desk. Again, it’s incredibly varied. I’d suggest setting some sort of baseline for yourself, of what a character’s joints can and can’t stand up to, and maybe do some research on which joints are most likely to pop out in general (hips and shoulders are big culprits being the wacky ball and socket motherfuckers they are). Then maybe have something pop out or hold up every so often when it shouldn’t cause hey! EDS is kinda just like that! Unpredictable!

Some ways people manage joint laxity is with braces, KT tape, and physical therapy. Braces come in many different forms, since I’m currently getting pretty much no treatment for my shitty joints I use mostly compression braces made for sporty people. It really is amazing how much a bit of tight fabric can do to keep my wrist in place.

More specialized braces often have solid parts to prevent the joints from hyper-extending (bending the wrong way) and causing further damage. If you ever see someone with what looks like diamond shaped rings around a bunch of their finger joints, chances are those are Ring Splints, and are there to keep the finger shaped like a finger. I want to get my hands on some and get some on my hands Very Badly, because my fingers hyper-extend SO MUCH when I type, and it makes my hand pain way way worse.

KT tape is another thing people often use. It’s stretchy tape you put on your skin and it basically functions kinda like a second ligament as well as reinforcing the joint and keeping the bones mostly where they’re supposed to be. The problem with this is a lot of people with EDS have very sensitive and fragile skin like I mentioned before, so KT tape can cause allergic reactions, chronic skin irritation, or just straight up take the skin with it when someone goes to remove it. Hence a lot of folks are really careful with it.

Physical Therapy is kinda the best (and only) treatment for joint laxity aside from Very Invasive and sometimes Highly Experimental surgery. It focuses on strengthening the muscles around the joints so they can do the work all those bone ropes made of body glue can’t. The problem is finding a physical therapist that 1) knows what EDS even is, 2) knows you have it, and 3) knows how to treat it without doing stuff that’ll Phucking Hurt You Worse!! Because exercising wrong with EDS can do Permanent Damage!!!

Again most folks use a combination of all of these things, or have next to no access to them b/c healthcare sucks.

Anyway, on to one of my favorite topics, Chronic Pain!! One of the reasons this post took me so long!!!

Chances are if your character has chronic pain as a result of their EDS there are gonna be some things they hate, including stairs, rain, thunderstorms, stairs, hills, uneven terrain, oh and did I mention stairs??? It’s going to vary person to person, but almost everyone I’ve met with pain from EDS has complained about their knees. For me the most debilitating pain is in my fingers and wrists. They’re by far my least stable joints but I use them constantly for stuff like drawing, typing, and sewing.

Because my joint pain is so wide spread, like most people’s with hEDS, it effects every single part of my day to day life. I can’t carry a heavy ceramic plate, open a bottle, or even use my computer without pain. It’s practically impossible for me to get comfortable in any position be it sitting or laying down, and as you can imagine that makes it hard to sleep a lot of the time. Moving too much hurts, but so does sitting still. I’m constantly taking braces on and off or cracking/stretching my joints so they pop back into place and hurt less.

Also being in pain makes everything else That Much Worse. I get tired way faster than I did before my pain was this bad (I had chronic pain for a while before actually realizing it wasn’t normal to not be able to walk down the block without feeling like your foot bones are trying to escape). My sensory issues and anxiety disorder are more easily aggravated because my base level of comfort is way worse. It fucks with my depression. And OH BOY does it make my ADHD worse because being in pain is fucking distracting as hell and makes it harder to make decisions and switch tasks. Also my ADHD often makes my other symptoms worse cause I forget to take my meds, don’t drink enough water, or can’t find my fucking braces because the item eating black-hole that comes with ADHD stole them. The intersection of mental and physical disabilities is probably a rant for another time though, so back to chronic pain.

Does it suck? Yes, undoubtedly. Is this incredibly debilitating? Of course it is, I spent the last several months unable to feed myself without assistance because there was a staircase between my room and the kitchen and I could only manage to climb it once a day. Is it overwhelming? Definitely, I’ve frequently broken down crying from a combination of pain and frustration because I’m having a bad day and there’s no relief to be found. Am I able to predict when it’s going to rain with uncanny accuracy because any change in barometric pressure makes me feel like every bone in my body is trying to kill it’s neighbors? You bet your fucking ass I am!! Does it sometimes make me irritable, angry, and occasionally dismissive of when abled people get cold or a temporary injury because the stuff they’re complaining about is my life every single day and all avenues of treatment and recovery I have could take years and still not entirely solve my issues? Yeah, and while I deserve a little extra patience I also have to be sure to check myself because I don’t want to turn into someone who’s nasty to be around. Do I sometimes need to sleep for 17 hours straight because it’s raining, I have migraine, and I’m in too much pain to be conscious? Yup, sometimes a few days in a row. Does living in constant pain mean I’m unable to do all the things I want to and does that sometimes make me wanna curl up in bed and never leave? Yeah, it happens.

But! And here’s the big important but, that’s not everything! I still write, draw, and talk to my friends!! It might take me a little longer but I get there. I’m still happy and excitable and make the time to write out five page long posts about EDS because it’s something I’m passionate about! My chronic pain doesn’t stop me. I refuse to let it. I never really wanted to go mountain climbing anyway, so I’m perfectly happy being able to make it up and down the six steps in my house, even if sometimes I have to sit and bump down them on my ass, or crawl up them like a cat. Chronic pain isn’t all I am. It isn’t a fate worse than death. It isn’t the only thing your character should talk about (though I do talk about my pain a lot cause I’m a complainer about almost everything). You can have your character be hindered by their pain, realistically they would be. You can have them seek comfort, support, and relief. Other characters can commiserate and be sympathetic, but it doesn’t mean their whole life is going to be one big pity party, that would be incredibly fucking boring. I know I’d be bored out of my mind.

All that said dealing with chronic pain, especially from EDS, is Complicated. Physical Therapy is the gold standard, but like I said before it can be a long and difficult process, and isn’t always accessible. Stabilization methods like I talked about before can help prevent pain, or reduce it by keeping bones mostly where they belong. Heat and cold help joints, relax muscles, and reduce inflammation but keeping them applied is rough and the relief doesn’t always last. Doctors prescribe anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and sometimes even anti-epileptic medication to help manage pain, but everyone’s mileage with those varies. And I’m not at all qualified to talk in-depth about narcotics or other heavy duty pain-meds, but suffice to say the war on drugs fucked shit up for people that legit need that kind of help BIG TIME.

Now for my closer/bonus rant about EDS and Disability Writing in General!

Everyone always says write what you know, so if you really want to do disabled people justice, get to know disabled people! Make friends with disabled people, get involved with advocacy groups, consume content made by disabled creators both about disability and not! Disabilities are so fucking diverse, even EDS is such a complex disorder, and comes with so many potential co-morbidities, that practically everyone with it has a unique experience. There’s no way I can fully explain everything in a tumblr post. Hell, even if I could talk to you for hours probably couldn’t give you enough info to answer all your questions (especially since I’m still in diagnosis hell :,) ), so talk to a wide range of people with EDS and other disabilities!! I know it sounds like a lot of work but trust me, disabled people are some of the strongest, raddest, coolest, people you will ever meet that it won’t feel like it.

And don’t be afraid either, the fact that EDS and other disabilities are so wildly varied means that you have a little bit of wiggle room with your character’s experience. There’s so little disability rep out their I think people are WAY to scared to try their hand at writing it. So long as your character is a fully developed person in addition to being disabled, you give some logical thought as to how it would affect their life, and you don’t make their disability the butt of any joke it isn’t difficult to avoid ableist writing. PLEASE WRITE MORE DISABLED PEOPLE AND PEOPLE WITH CHRONIC PAIN/CHRONIC ILLNESS!!

Okay that’s it, again sorry it took so long for me to get back to you! My fingers were being little pests about it, and my ADHD (which is honestly more disabling than everything else a lot of the time lmao) was being an asshole! Hope this helps, and feel free to ask me more questions if you need clarification! It might take me a bit but I do love talking about this stuff.

[thatblondeperson]

TimSteph, taking care of chronic injuries!

Hey look, another ask that got buried! Sorry friend!!!! 

This is all preboot, RR/Batgirl era.

Ok so Tim is super extra imo when it comes to treating any kind of sickness, injury, ANYTHING. He’s the type of guy who will go to CVS and buy out the entire “cold + flu” aisle as soon a Steph gets a runny nose. He absolutely drowns her in cough drops and tissues. I can see him being extremely attentive as well. Like bringing blankets and pillows around the clock, happy to carry her from point A to point B, almost insisting to do so on occasion, and just sitting with her for as long as she desires/needs company. He absolutely pays no mind to germs. Steph can cuddle all she wants.

Steph is similar but less extra. She’s got some more classic home remedies that Tim doesn’t have. She absolutely would baby the hell out of him if he got sick though, and probably more often than not she has to put her foot down on him trying to patrol even if he’s completely out of it and burning up. Tim has a hard time relaxing, but eventually the time is used for him to catch up on sleep. Tim getting sick is like a mini-hibernation. I can see Alfred stepping in occasionally if they were both sick because Tim’s an absolute mess, and Steph can only do so much before she gets wiped out. They’re hopeless and completely out of service if they’re both ill at the same time. Error 404: Dorks not found. 

Chronic injuries are a constant process. Steph obviously has a ton just from Black Mask alone. I’m sure she gets aches and pains on the regular due to the severity of the torture she experience. Power drills would leave some lasting abdominal pain for sure. Hell, I wonder if it makes cramps worse for her? It could in all honestly. She may need serious pain meds during that time of the month which are of course always kept on hand. On top of that, the physical trauma definitely left endless mental trauma. No question about it. Not to mention that time she got lightly shot in the head. I say lightly because I forgot this was a thing because they don’t really address it again. I imagine that would cause occasional headaches/migraines, and I’m sure Tim likes to run a scan every now and again to make sure there isn’t any lasting damage. And of course, we return to the medicine cabinet for more pain pills. (Thank you @incoherentbabblings for reminding me of the gunshot.)

I headcanon that both of them get nightmares on almost the regular. They’ve both got it set that if one of them is in the middle of a bad nightmare, the other just holds them close, doing whatever they can to soothe them until the calmness sets back in. The nightmares get more spaced out some time after they move in together because I think the constant safeness of having someone beside them every night would eventually help them both sleep through the night better. It is hard to get back to sleep though. Both of them have been put through the ringer, they’ve both seen death of loved ones up close and personal, and I imagine a lot of what they’ve experienced is still very vivid and intense for them.

Tim’s got his own fair share of recurring pain. The boy doesn’t have a spleen and tbh I don’t know how he’s not getting sick more frequently. But extra precautions need to be taken to keep him from getting infections when he gets any kid of open wound, thank GOD Steph is a nurse. Tim has to be kept pretty healthy though if at all possible, which brings us back to my previous headcanon about him not caring about germs when Steph is sick? Yeah, not his smartest move, but Tim’s an idiot and forgets that he’s fragile. 

Both of them have regular joint issues. They’ve dislocated enough things for just about everything to make awful clicking sounds now and again. Steph doesn’t have as much regular muscle pain, she’s far more flexible than Tim is so she stays pretty loose and limber, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have to work at it every day. Steph does yoga as a part of her routine. She gets Tim to join sometimes but he’s not very good at keeping up with it. He’s flexible too but not to her level, and he locks up easier if he’s had an especially tough night. They both try to put the time in to exercise when they can, spotting each other, keeping a routine going, because given how much they both get beaten and battered on the daily, if they don’t keep up with muscle pain, it’ll just get worse. On bad days when the pain makes any mobility difficult, massages ensue. They’ve got at least 15 ice packs in the freezer at all times, and a stack of heating pads in the medicine cabinet. And if all else fails, a nice hot bubble bath never hurts. With Epsom salts and everything. Steph likes to add a touch of lavender oil.

Immediate injuries they’re both very good at treating. Steph obviously has more technical knowhow, and she is the most medically trained of all the Batfam members, but Tim is detail oriented and good at focusing when he needs to so he can keep up just fine. They’re both good at stitches and general wound treatment, but Steph is better at consistent treatment. Tim will absolutely forget to switch out his bandages or clean things because his brain is soup and he cannot be bothered to think about injuries when he’s too busy with 50 other things on the constant. He needs to slow down. We get right back into “more prone to infections” again. Alas. Idiot. 

They both have their fair share of mental health issues, though Tim’s tend to be more intense. Steph has her ways of managing her own mental state but Tim gets stuck often. He falls into some pretty deep depression spells, and his anxiety acts up fairly frequently. Steph has started teaching him how to meditate, but also has a list of distractions and special remedies that she can utilize if need be. Movies and tea are a good base line, though Tim’s mind gets very far away sometimes and it’s hard to pull him back out. Like he almost wants to wallow in his sadness. Often she just tries to ground him as best she can so he doesn’t get so lost that he can’t come back. Steph likes to make sure that he isn’t always using patrol as a crutch for when he’s feeling upset or tense. It’s hard to sway him away from more pain when he lets himself get so close to the edge. It breaks her heart, sometimes she feels helpless.

Steph has anxiety as well, and some psychosomatic tics from her past abuse. She needs a lot of reassurance and gentleness when her mind starts racing. She’s still prone to trust issues, even now when she’s surrounded herself with stable people. She’s been let down and she fears losing her steady ground sometimes. Tim, let’s face it, hasn’t been the most reliable in the past, but I firmly believe that with some growing up he’d step up to the plate and try to be a solid home base for her to the best of his abilities. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon. He’s very good at being gentle. That’s canon as fuck. I will die on the hill that Tim is as delicate with Steph as one would be with a priceless porcelain heirloom. Fight me, the boy would never intentionally try to physically or mentally hurt her. He tries so hard to reassure her but I thinks he feels a little helpless sometimes too. Some of her trust issues are his fault, and he can’t just snap his fingers and reverse his mistakes. He tries his best, but there will always be scars. 

All in all, I think they’re both very tender and caring with one another. They’re both beyond broken sometimes, and they are a mess and a half. But they know each other, they know each others pain and sadness and I think once they got back together they’d settle very easily into a care routine. Both of them are carrying the weight of countless consequences and mistakes and hardship on their shoulders. Pain is just a side affect that comes with carrying so much baggage, but it’s a little easier to manage when they have each other for support. I do think some of it would get easier over time, and my wish for them is that they can move somewhere just outside the city, maybe by a lake. Far enough away that things are quiet, but not so far that they would completely leave the hero gig behind. I agree with the consensus that neither of them could fully quit. Tim would just sink into the background, but Steph would be out there in the field for many years. Justas long as they have somewhere safe and comfortable to return to, I think they’ll both be just fine. Plus smooches are the best fallback medicine for all ailments and we all know that they never run out of those. 😘💋

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK! More than half of this was not anything to do with chronic injuries but fuck it. We’ve tapped into the hurt/comfort section of my brain and there is a lot of material there to work with. Idk when you sent this in but I hope it wasn’t too long ago. I hope this answered more questions than you ever intended to ask. 💜❤

[oh-obrien]

Migraines

Relationships: Dylan O’Brien x OFC

Warnings: Mentions of chronic illness (?)

Word Count : 5,010

Author’s Note: Hey y’all this is something kind of small and kind of cute I cranked out. I deal with chronic migraines and honestly 100% self indulged with this but it has tons of soft Dylan in it!! I kind of hoped to shine some light on what it’s like dealing with chronic migraines with it, mainly because that’s why I’ve been MIA the past week. It’s pretty hard to write when you can only see out of one eye lol. 

“Sometimes I just really wonder why I subject myself to this,” Lillian mumbled while she laid down on the ground in the middle of the Beacon Hills Memorial hospital set that they happened to be filming in on that day. “Or at least I mean, why I decide to just let my headaches go when I wake up some mornings,” she cracked an eye open to see Dylan standing above her. 

He held a hand out to her and she took it, pushing herself off the ground and closing her eyes once she stood flat so she hopefully wouldn’t notice the room spinning. “I would ask if you wanted anything but I know the answer already,” Lillian fell into step next to him while they got to where they needed to be for the next scene. “If you want to take a break I'm sure you could ask and-”

“I’m fine,” Lillian shook her head and closed her right eye that she currently couldn’t really see out of. She saw Dylan give her a knowing look and shook her head, “I’m seriously fine Dyl. I’m just going to grab some painkillers and coffee on lunch and I’ll be fine for the rest of the day after that.” She quickly pulled away from Dylan and walked over to where Holland and Crystal stood getting ready to film themselves. 

Dylan stood off to the side of the set with Tyler Posey, watching the girls film a scene together. Lillian laid in the hospital bed with her eyes closed, the prop heart monitor beeping steadily behind them while their director spoke. “Something is up with Lilly today,” Tyler mumbled while watching the way her forehead was wrinkled in discomfort when her eyes opened. 

“She has a migraine,” Dylan mumbled watching the girls again when quiet got called on the set. He saw Lillian close her eyes again while she waited for Holland and Crystal to finish their lines for the scene, everyone on set knowing they were going to lunch once their director felt happy with how the scene came out. “And I told her they would call the day early if she said something but she refuses to believe it,” he rolled his eyes. 

Tyler crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, “maybe she just needs lunch to unwind, clear her head,” he watched how Dylan looked on to set with concern. Tyler knew his friend cared deeply about their new cast member, from the dad Lillian had stepped onto the set Dylan and her had clicked. Lillian had grown up in     New York, allowing her and Dylan to quickly fall into conversation about their shared interest in some of the state’s sports teams. She had seen Dylan wearing his Mets cap the first time they met and offered him a smirk mumbling something about, “imagine being a Yankees fan,” before introducing herself to the rest of the cast. 

“I might just stick back here,” Dylan leaned closer to Tyler to speak so he wouldn’t interrupt filming at all, “just to make sure she’s fine,” he ran a hand through his messy hair. Tyler looked up to his friend and just nodded, not wanting to push the issue of where Dylan’s feelings for their friend currently were at the moment. 

When Lillian had moved to Los Angeles, fresh out of college, to join the cast of Teen Wolf for its third season, it quickly became clear that she wasn’t completely comfortable in the new environment. Her audition for the show had been a ‘joke’ of sorts originally and even getting a call back for the part had surprised her.

Lillian had planned on sticking back on her college’s campus for their fall break to attend a tournament for the college’s Ultimate Frisbee team she had played on. Due to weather concerns the tournament had gotten cancelled and with her parents also planning on going on vacation that week, there had been no point in her returning home. A few of her friends who happened  to be acting and theater majors, had planned on taking a trip out to LA that weekend for shits and giggles, to see if they could audition for a couple jobs after they graduated college, just to see if they had any shot at getting the parts.

They had convinced Lillian to walk into an audition with zero acting experience to raise their chances, even if would just raise them a minimal amount, it was still something. Upon walking into the audition, Lillian learned that she would be auditioning for a high school student who wanted to be any place other than high school. Something she related to on a personal level. She must have played the part pretty well because a week later on her way to practice she got the call that the producers wanted her to fly out to LA for the final round of auditions. 

After lengthy discussions with her advisors and parents the days following the call, she knew that she would be graduating a year early, and would have plenty of time to get out to LA before filming started. Armed with that knowledge and the fact that she would have to drop her dreams of attending law school if she did get the part, Lillian flew out to LA for the final audition for a role on the MTV series Teen Wolf. 

Two weeks after graduating from a tiny, central Pennsylvania University with a degree in Economics and Legal Studies, Lillian found herself moving out to Los Angeles to start a career as an actress. She had been able to rent a small house outside of Los Angeles with the help of her parents and moved herself and her dog out there in record timing. Her first day on set she had shown up in a pair of ripped jeans and a long sleeve from her college and felt grossly underdressed and unattractive when she had been introduced to the rest of the cast at the table read. 

“You must be Lillian,” A red headed young woman walked up to Lilly with a warm smile and offered her a hug. “I’m Holland.”

“You can just call my Lilly,” she offered a warm smile in return, tucking her keys into her jeans pocket and holding the binder with her first script in it tightly to her chest. 

Holland nodded and started to lead Lillian into a building, “Jeff told us not to overwhelm you, and we really didn’t trust any of the boys not to do that,” she laughed lightly turning down a long hallway. “We really are one big family though, I’d say this is the best way to ease into your first job.”

“I honestly never expected to wind up here,” Lillian laughed while she and Holland reached a door labeled ‘Teen Wolf’ within the studio. “I’m fresh out of college on an Economics and Pre-Law degree, before I auditioned I’d say acting was the last thing on my mind when it came to a career,” she shrugged. 

Holland looked into the small glass window of the room before speaking, “you’d get along great with Dylan then,” she stated, “Teen Wolf was his first job too! If you’re comfortable enough everyone else is in here, and the boys are quite eager to meet you if I’m honest. They love seeing new people on set.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Lilly shrugged while Holland pushed the door open, the room opening up to a bunch of tables in a large rectangle, the remainder of the cast, the show’s writer and some producers sitting around the table also. All the heads in the room turned to face them and Lilly watched as some of the members of the cast pushed their way out of their seats to introduce themselves. 

“I’m Crystal,” one of the other girls introduced themselves first out of the group. “That’s Tyler and Tyler,” she pointed to two of the younger guys who were standing up. “Daniel, Gage, and Dylan,” she introduced everyone who was standing. “I’m sure the adults are able to introduce themselves,” she laughed. Lillian saw the adults all talking amongst themselves, most likely not wanting to overwhelm her more than she already was.

“And you know me already,” Jeff Davis, the writer for the show, stood up to shake Lillian’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll be a more than amazing addition to the show.” He returned to his seat and started talking with the other adults, giving the younger actors time to properly introduce themselves. 

“Jeff said you were from New York,” one of the Tyler’s spoke up. “That’s pretty cool,”

“Not like the city,” Lillian laughed, “the island though yeah, I lived there until I went to college,” she offered the information. “And at least he’s not a Yankees fan,” she nodded towards the hat that Dylan was wearing. “How’re you a Mets fan?”

Dylan smiled and stepped more into the group, “I lived in Jersey a good chunk of my childhood,” he laughed. “You know how Mets fans raise their kids,” he just shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. 

From that first day on set onwards, Dylan had taken Lillian under his wing and showed her the ropes of being an actress. With Teen Wolf also having been his first acting job, he found a sort of kinship with Lillian that allowed the two to feel comfortable around each other. They shared experiences the others didn't really have in common with them. They had grown close together through filming, and with Lillian’s character taking a liking to Stiles they were both glad they had natural chemistry. On set they were never really far from each other, and some of their castmates had placed bets on when the pair would finally realize the feelings they had for each other.

“What does she think, Jeff’s going to kick her off the show if she takes a break?” Tyler asked Dylan while they watched Lillian rub at her temples between takes. “Because she really isn’t looking fantastic right now at all.”

Dylan let out a long sigh and shrugged, “I’m really not sure, man. You know how hard she is on herself though, so she won’t even tell you how bad it really is.” Once the director called for lunch break, Lillian sat up slowly in the hospital bed, swinging her legs over the end and pulling on her hair at the roots. She said something to Holland and Crystal who gave her sad smiles before nodding and walking over to Tyler and Dylan. 

“What’s Lilly not coming to lunch?” Tyler asked the two girls, glancing at Dylan out of the corner of his eye. 

Crystal shook her head, “she said she wants to just run through lines for the rest of the day. She said she had food in her trailer, plus she brought Bear with her today,” Crystal pointed out that Lillian had brought her corgi to set for the day and both of the boys turned to look at each other. “Oh you two see Bear plenty, give her a little space during lunch.”

Dylan watched Lillian talk to a few of the producers that were on the set that day, nodding along to what they were saying while she chewed on her bottom lip. Jeff walked over and said something that made her smile, giving a shallow nod to the writer before she walked off in the direction of her trailer, shuffling her feet while she went. “I’m going to stay behind too,” Dylan mumbled, taking off the flannel he had been wearing for Stiles’ outfit that day. 

Holland turned to give Tyler a knowing look and he just shrugged, not sure what to tell her. “Dylan, you know how she needs her space sometimes,” Holland pointed out. 

“It’s fine, I’m just going to check on her,” he waved the others off while he also started in the direction of the trailers. 

Opening her trailer door, Lillian peeled off the clothes she had been wearing on set and dropped them on to the table in the trailer. She grabbed the hoodie she had worn on to set that day, one Dylan had left at her house the week before and a pair of Nike shorts. She bent down to pet Bear who laid half awake on the couch in the room, his stuffed hedgehog under his chin. With a yawn Bear pushed himself up on to his short legs and stretched, going to sniff at his food bowl.

“Oh you’re starving,” Lillian laughed, opening the door to the cabinet where she kept his food, her head pounding while she leaned down. “Here ya go,” she filled his food bowl up and cracked open a fresh water bottle to fill up his bowl before plugging in her coffee maker and starting a fresh pot brewing. She had learned early on in her migraine endeavors that, unlike most people, caffeine fixed her headaches rather than giving her one. 

Grabbing a blanket she had folded on the table she quickly unfolded it and sat down on the couch, draping it over herself and closing her eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. She wished that her coffee would brew faster so she could gain back some of her will to continue filming for the rest of the day after lunch. She knew that her and the rest of the cast had planned to go out to lunch that afternoon but couldn't bring herself to go sit in a loud restaurant for two hours with how quickly her migraine had taken its grip. Letting out a long sigh she felt Bear jump up in her lap and rested a hand on his back, running her fingers through his fur. 

Lillian had gotten Bear her senior year of high school, he’s a trained migraine alert dog and accurately alerted her to most of her oncoming migraines for the entire time she had him. He had alerted her of her current one the day before, but she had hoped it would have held off until after work that day. With her head tilted back and eyes closed Lillian continued to run her fingers through the dog’s fur, his chest rising and falling steadily under her hand. 

A few minutes later, while the coffee started to sputter out the last bits of coffee, a quiet knock rapped on her door and bear let out a sleep growl. Lillian just laughed lightly before saying ‘come in’ as loud as she could. Her head pounding when she did so, a quiet groan falling from her lips. The door opened and Lillian saw Dylan standing on the other side. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and a black tee shirt, his hair messy on his head and his phone in hand.

“He do his job like he’s supposed to?” Dylan asked Lillian motioning towards Bear who had decided to go back to sleep on Lillian’s lap. 

She nodded, “he did,” she knew Dylan wouldn’t be happy with her, now knowing the fact that she had an oncoming migraine she had told no one about until it hit. “I knew too,” she just shrugged while Dylan closed her trailer door behind him. She heard the coffee machine beep, signaling it had finished brewing and Lillian let out a quiet ‘yes’, going to move Bear so she could make a cup.

“I got it,” Dylan told her, walking over to the fridge and pulling out the milk and vanilla creamer she had in it. “Do you care if I take a cup?” He turned to face Lillian while he pulled down the sugar from where she kept it. 

Lillian shook her head slightly, “be my guest,” she told him. Dylan busied himself making the mugs of coffee, sliding Lilly’s carefully to her before making his own. 

“That’s the sweatshirt I left at your house last weekend,” he nodded to the hoodie she had on, “looks good on you,” he gave a small smile, sitting down on the end of the couch. Lillian shrugged in response, holding her mug between both hands and taking a sip of the warm liquid. 

She set the mug down again before speaking, “you left it, and it’s comfy. I’ll give it back later.” she closed her eyes while Bear got off her lap, moving to lay on his bed that currently had rays of sun pouring over it. 

“I wasn’t missing it all that much,” Dylan shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink. He turned to face Lillian, a serious look on his face. “Why don’t you ever say anything, especially when Jeff tells you to let him know?” He asked quietly. 

Lillian just let out a long sigh, opting to focus on her coffee mug instead of answering right away. “Can we talk about it when I can see out of both of my eyes again and can remember more than just my name and where I am?” she let out a small laugh. “I honestly was just planning on taking a nap after I downed a few mugs of coffee,” she added. 

Dylan watched as she started to rub her temples, her eyes closing while she did so. “I can go if you want,” he pointed towards her door. 

“No it’s fine, you’re here now and I'm awake we can just watch a movie or something if you want to,” she spoke softly, not opening her eyes at all in the process. 

“Lilly-”

“Dylan just, stop worrying,” she let out a long sigh. “Pick a movie and we can just hang out, you really shouldn’t have hung back,” she left the, ‘but I’m glad you did’, out. Lillian had a small crush on her castmate since the first day she had stepped on to set. His sense of humor and off the walls energy just appealed to her. Not to mention he always seemed incredibly sweet and cared about those around him in a way not many people could. The pair had bonded over their shared interest in many of the same sports team and one of them would usually host dinner and some friends on nights of games. 

He had also been the one to pick up on her migraine triggers first. He tried to avoid ordering food with too much garlic if he would be hosting the games, and he also knew if he planned on getting Chinese he could only order from a couple of places in the LA area. He knew that days on set where there would be flashing or bright lights and a lot of loud noise would also trigger her migraines sometimes. 

Off set, Dylan had learned to pay careful attention to Bear and could often notice when the dog was signaling to Lillian that she would have an oncoming migraine within the next day. “We don’t have to watch a movie,” Dylan shrugged and set his now empty mug next to Lillian’s. “You know I share your love for naps,” He laughed lightly kicking his shoes off and stretching out across her couch. “Give me a pillow and if you come lay up here I can rub your head,” he offered. 

Lillian pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking the offer over. She knew that it would help her, and Dylan had done it before for her, but she didn’t want to get too cozy with him. Especially with her feelings growing stronger and stronger in the past weeks. “You don’t mind?” she asked quietly. 

“No I don’t mind,” Dylan shook his head with a small smile. Now give me a pillow and come share your blanket!” Lillian reached underneath her couch to grab one of the pillows she kept in her trailer and handed it to Dylan who adjusted it on the arm of the couch so he could comfortably lay on it. He sunk further into the couch, hanging his legs over the end, before opening his arms so Lilly could tuck into his side. 

Carefully shuffling around on the small couch, Lillian laid her head on Dylan’s chest and tucked in as close to him as possible so she could make sure she wouldn’t fall off the end. Pulling her blanket around both of them, Dylan wrapped his free arm around her back and the other started to gently rub at her left temple. “I don’t know how you balance everything,” he mumbled quietly, watching Lilly’s eyes close. 

“I’ve been doing it since like middle school,” she replied, yawning at the end. “You get used to it, trust me.”

Dylan moved his hand so it carded through her hair a few times before rubbing where the back of her skull met her neck, “but still,” he sighed. “I just feel bad is all,” he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“Well you’re helping right now, so don’t feel bad,” Lillian snuggled more into his side. Her right hand resting on his chest. “Seriously this is more than I can ask for. At home I’ll sleep on a heating pad to try and help a little bit. Having an actual person is more than enough,” he words started to bleed together while she started to drift off. 

Dylan let out a small laugh, his chest vibrating against Lillian’s hand and cheek when he did so. He let his own eyes close while he moved his hand again, his thumb gently rubbing up and down the bridge of Lilly’s nose. He remembered her mentioning it the first time he had found them in this position. She had said her mom would do it when she had been younger and couldn’t sleep at night from her migraines. 

Opening his eyes when he felt Lilly’s breathing even out completely, he noticed her facial features had relaxed significantly, her brow no longer stuck in a tight crease. Her lips weren’t turned into a frown anymore and her nose no longer scrunched up in discomfort. He continued to rub her temples and up and down the bridge of her nose until Bear decided to use the steps to get up on the sofa to crawl into his lap and go back to sleep himself. 

“God,” Dylan breathed out slowly, letting his hand come to rest on Lillian’s hip once he knew she was actually asleep. “I am fucked,” he closed his eyes and decided to make use of the break to catch up on sleep himself.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

“Where are Dylan and Lillian?” Jeff approached the group of young actors when they had returned to set from their lunch break. “I’ve been texting and calling both of them and they haven't answered.” He looked around the group for an answer.

“Uhh-” Tyler Posey trailed off. “I know Dylan stayed behind to check on Lilly earlier, he said she had a migraine starting earlier and didn’t really want to tell anyone.” Jeff looked around the group, waiting to see if anyone else had an answer for him as to where the two could be.

Holland grabbed Tyler’s arm and nodded to him, “we’ll go see if we can find them,” she told Jeff with a small smile. The pair started in the direction of the cast’s trailers and Holland let out a long sigh. “This is why she's supposed to mention these things, no one wants her hurt or sick.” She spoke with genuine concern for her friend. 

“She told Dylan,” Tyler shrugged while they walked up the lines of trailers until they saw Lilly’s. “I mean, it’s something,” he added.

Holland just nodded and looked at Tyler. “Yeah, she likes him and he likes her, they’re happily oblivious to it though.” Holland approached Lilly’s trailer and looked in the window. She turned around to face Tyler with a smirk and nodded towards the window. 

Tyler approached the window and pushed himself up on his toes so he could see in. He noticed the pair curled up on Lilly’s couch together, asleep, and Lilly’s dog curled up on Dylan’s lap. “I bet they're both still pinning though,” He laughed quietly. “Should we see if the door’s open?” He asked Holland.

“Probably,” she walked up the stairs to the trailer and pushed on the door that swung open. Bear lifted his head to watch the pair, but didn’t make any noise. He knew the two and also knew they would often supply him with treats if he behaved. She watched Tyler take out his phone and take a picture of them before tucking it back into his pocket.

“For safekeeping,” he laughed while Holland approached the pair. She reached out and shook Dylan’s left shoulder, trying to carefully wake him up. He let out a quiet groan and opened his eyes, blinking sleepily at the room around him. When his eyes came into focus he noticed Holland and Tyler standing in the middle of the trailer, knowing smirks on their faces. 

Dylan cleared his throat before speaking, “she had a headache, I just offered to help,” his voice slightly scratchy from sleep. 

“And you are both absolutely oblivious to the mutual feelings between each other apparently,” Holland rolled her eyes. “You’re both supposed to be on set, but I’m sure Jeff wouldn’t mind wrapping early if he understood her situation.” Dylan looked down to where Lilly still laid passed out on his chest. 

Dylan sighed, “might be best for the day, I know earlier she wasn’t really able to see out of her one eye. Probably not the safest thing on set.” He watched Lilly turn her face further into his chest and started rubbing her temple again. 

“Yeah, man,” Tyler gave him a small smile. “We’ll go talk to Jeff and you see how she’s feeling.” He turned to leave the trailer, Holland hanging around a few seconds longer. 

“Trust me Dyl,” she let out a quiet sigh, “just tell her, I know you won’t be disappointed,” and with that she turned to follow Tyler. 

Dylan closed his eyes for a second before opening the again, lightly wrapping his hand around Lilly’s shoulder and shaking her. “Lills,” he hummed, “you gotta wake up,” he said. Lilly groaned and he watched her peel her eyes open, blinking at the light filling up the trailer and tucking her face into Dylan’s chest again. 

“I know,” he rubber her shoulder, “you still feel shitty, but Holland and Tyler are going to see if Jeff can end the day early-”

“Nope,” Lillian sat up quickly, groaning when she did. Her head still pounded and she wanted to go back to sleep, but she had a job to get done. “I just need to change and-”

“You need to lay back down,” Dylan grabbed her arm and pulled her back into his chest. “I care too much about you to keep letting you do this to yourself,” he added. Lilly just closed her eyes, trying to will her nausea to go away, not wanting to throw up in front of Dylan, of all people. She felt a few tears of pain and frustration slip out of the corners of her eyes and gave up, sinking back into Dylan’s warm embrace. 

“This fucking sucks,” she sniffled while Dylan’s thumb started rubbing up and down the bridge of her nose again. “I can’t just not work because I have a headache, everyone gets headaches, I just need a few minutes to get rid of the queasiness,” she mumbled. 

Dylan shushed her and used his thumb to wipe away the tears that slipped out of her eyes. “You need to rest more, Lills,” he started rubbing her back with his other hand. “Tyler and Holland are going to come tell me we can leave early and then I’ll drive you and your furry friend here home.” He looked down to Bear who had fallen asleep again.

“I don’t-” Lillian squeezed her eyes shut tighter, “I don’t want to be home alone,” she spoke quietly. “It’ll just last longer and then I won’t sleep and I’ll still have it tomorrow and-”

“I’ll stay,” he cut her off, “as long as it’s okay with you.”

“Dylan you don’t-”

“I want to, Lilly,” he looked down at her, her eyes finally open again. “I care about you,” he took in a shaky breath. “A lot, and I won’t leave you alone like this,” he continued to play with your hair. “I want to help you take care of this,” he leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. “So please just, let me take care of you for once.”

“I-” Lillian trailed off, looking up at Dylan who watched her closely. “I don’t want to tie you down with this, you don’t deserve to deal with this,” she shook her head. 

Dylan hummed in response and shook his head ‘no’, rubbing her temple again with his pointer and middle fingers. “I like this though,” he smiled lightly, “you’re warm and comfortable, Bear is asleep in my lap,” he shrugged, “I’m quite happy where I am.” He watched Lilly look at him, her face stuck in a state of disbelief. 

Just when Lilly went to speak again, Tyler, Crystal and Holland appeared in the trailer door. “Jeff said we can stop for the day, it was all just going to be getting a head start anyway,” Tyler said. 

“See,” Dylan looked down at Lilly, “thanks guys!” he addressed the others. They all gave Dylan knowing smiles before telling Lilly to feel better and leaving the pair alone again. “Now, let’s get you two home and order something to eat that won’t bother your head more.” 

Lillian sat up slowly, a small smile on her face while she pet Bear who yawned and opened his eyes also. “As long as you promise to snuggle more,” she pouted at Dylan. 

“I promise to snuggle more,” he laughed sliding off the couch. “Now let’s go.”

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Splitting Open

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot and pairing are mine and everything else is borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG

When Bobo Del Rey has a migraine and tries to ignore it, he ends up having to be taken care of. 

Author’s note: As someone who suffers chronic migraine, I wanted to write a drabble with Bobo Del Rey experiencing them and having to have his partner and found!family taking care of him. So you get this. 

*~*~*~*

Splitting Open

It crept upon him in increments so he hadn't fully caught the warning signs too used to the thrum of the curse and the constant heat under his skin. It made him sort of push passed anything else that didn't hit him like a freight train.

Until the throbbing, stabbing pain centered behind his eyes has him doubling over and nearly vomiting mid-step. Ones like these that came slowly and then struck at once tended to put him out for hours if not a full day. And this was particularly problematic as he was on his way to meet up with a certain heir. He braces himself against the door of the truck and considers just canceling and telling her that he had better things to do and she'd just have to wait but...

Waverly would be there and honestly, he didn't want to disappoint her. His stomach revolts violently and he ends up gagging but at least the pressure has lessened somewhat. It grants him at least clear enough vision to drive himself to Shorty's. In hindsight, he probably should have just asked one of the Revenants to do this but there was no way he was having them see him in this sort of state.

It still takes him longer than he likes and he misses a couple of turns, twice. Hopefully, Wynonna didn't expect him to be punctual.

Getting out of the truck leaves him dizzy and realizing that this was probably the worst idea he'd had and that in retrospect he was probably not thinking too clearly as his head was throbbing and it was very hard to focus on any one thing for too long. He closes his eyes a moment to try and reorient himself which once again takes longer than he'd like. He feels hot and cold and dizzy. Clammy and not at all like he should be doing this. But something, something wouldn't go well if he didn't. The reason was now fuzzy but he doesn't like it so he forces himself a step at a time forward. The light hurts, sounds hurt, everything just hurt.

Entering is no better; the sharp smells and sounds only make him want to vomit again and he struggles to stay upright. “It's about time you sho...Bobo?”

He struggles to look anything close to cocky and imposing and is sure there's no point as the look he's getting is quite concerned. And when it's from Wynonna, well he's clearly not hiding anything. “Migraine,” he manages to get out, “S-sort of snuck up on me...” His gesture is shaky, sloppy even as he tries to sound like it wasn't as much as it was.

“Migraine,” Wynonna says slowly gazing at him.

“Mmhmm, you know; headache on steroids? Everything hurts, smells are vomit-inducing, lights are awful, noise is worse. Those things? Got one trying to stab me through my eye. S' fantastic.”

“Then why the hell are you here instead of laying down somewhere?”

He wants to point out what should be obvious; they had a truce and he was getting tired of being accused of not pulling his weight in it but his stomach decides at that moment to want to revolt and he barely manages to get to a trashcan before he's retching miserably the throbbing worsening. “Goddammit, Bobo Del Rey,” Wynonna huffs as she approaches, “There are some things you don't try to force yourself through. This is one of them.”

“'S not...like I'd get much in the way of quiet at the compound a-anyway so if I'm going to be miserable might as well do as you asked.”

“Except, I'd like you to be coherent enough to give me an update. You are clearly feeling like someone ran you over a few times and I really do not want to deal with you having to get a trashcan every few minutes.”

He wants to argue but at this point; was he really going to win? Everything was just making things so much worse. Footsteps approach and he grimaces. “Is he okay?” Robin asks softly.

“Migraine apparently,” Wynonna answers, “Should probably put him in Doc's room until he gets back and can deal with him.”

“Ahhh, yeah, if you do that let me get something that might help. I'll be right back,” comes his immediate quiet answer before the steps recede lighter this time. Bobo had to hand it to that one in particular; he didn't absolutely hate him.

The jury was still out on the others most of the time.

He can barely finish that to completion before he winces at just everything. And then there are the soft footsteps before something is slipped over his head and the noise goes silent. Oh. Headphones. Robin had...

Yes, he definitely would let this one live. Of course he's lightly tugged and he goes with deciding that he's had more than enough of all of this. Of everything. The silence helps the throbbing and he is far more pliant to being pushed into the familiar sheets on Doc's bed before he just curls up. He's pretty sure the headphones keep him from hearing anything that might remotely be insulting about his pitiable state whether it's imagined or real and he is fine with that.

Sleep comes in fits and starts until there is a gentle shifting and he blinks blearily up at Waverly. His angel smiles softly before lightly pressing and he moves so he's laying on his back wondering what she was... The feel of a cold pack against his forehead startles him somewhat but helps immeasurably. His eyes slowly flutter closed and he's sure she mouth's something but can't quite make it out as he settles once more.

The next time he awakens the pain has lessened and the still cold item against his skin tells him it's been changed recently. Slowly shifting it and removing the headphones, he finds the room dark but can make out the figure sitting in the chair nearby. “Henry,” he manages.

“Robert,” comes the soft response, “You should take better care.”

“T-to be fair I didn't exactly notice this one coming. It happens sometimes.”

“Well, when you knew you should have called. I would have come to the park and kept an eye on things. Wynonna, for all her faults, would understand not wanting to deal with anyone in that case. Your health is important to us.”

“Is it now?”

“Do not be daft,” the man warns him, “I'm sour enough with you for things to be uncomfortable but there is also Waverly who would like you to know and I quote 'you have absolutely no common-sense or sense of self-preservation and when you are well enough she's going to punch you for this' end quote. So maybe learn a little better not to upset your family.”

“She...said that?”

“That she did and I am sure she means it, too.”

He can't help the soft chuckle before he'd murmur, “Maybe not the worst thing to hear in all of this.”

Doc rolls his eyes as he moves closer before gently reaching to brush his fingers along his jaw. “I let Levi know you'd be here for a spell and not to worry about you as well as to keep your more tempestuous community members in check so that you do not have to worry.”

“You actually trust Levi to do that?”

“No, that's why I also called and repeated it to Hui and Howard both.”

Bobo can't help laughing softly. “You are certainly learning, Henry. And...thank you. For what it's worth, you didn't have to do that and I appreciate it.”

“Hey now,” Doc murmurs gently as he cups the side of his face, “We are partners, yes? That means I'm allowed to try and help look after the boys if I feel the need.”

“And we both know the boys need all the looking after in the world.”

“Ain't gonna argue that because they are frightfully bad at a lot of things. However, you are to worry about nothing and just rest. I mean it.”

“You know I'm pretty bad at that,” he remarks, “How are you going to be sure that I will?”

At that, the other straightens before removing his hat and making short work of his boots, pants and shirt before slowly sliding into the bed curling an arm around him. “Because, Robert,” he murmurs nuzzling against his jaw, “I'm gonna be right here makin' sure you do.”

[consulting-celiac-in-the-tardis]

5 Reasons Celiac Disease Is About More Than My Stomach

New blog post!

When you look up "what is celiac disease" online or receive a celiac diagnosis, it may seem like a simple disease at first. In fact, when I'm explaining my condition to new friends, I often just say, "Celiac disease is an autoimmune condition in which ingesting gluten damages the intestines." 

However, in the seven years since my celiac diagnosis, I've realized something: the answer to "What is celiac disease?" can be pretty complicated...because celiac disease is about waaaaay more than just my intestines. Not sure what I mean? In honor of Celiac Awareness Month (and raising celiac awareness all year round!), here are five reasons celiac disease is about much more than my stomach. 

1. The symptoms of celiac disease can manifest themselves in over 300 different ways.

It makes sense to think that a disease centered on intestinal damage would trigger symptoms related to digestion. And, in some dases, that assumption isn't wrong: for instance, my main symptoms of undiagnosed celiac disease were acid reflux, nausea and rapid weight loss. 

However, stomach problems aren't the whole picture. In fact, symptoms of celiac disease can include:

Anemia

Anxiety

Infertility

Headaches or migraines

Fatigue

Discolored teeth

Thin bones or being prone to broken bones

Skin Rashes

and much, much more!

Source

As a result, some people are diagnosed with celiac disease because they are underweight, bloated and have many stomach problems...but not everyone with celiac disease is thin or experiencing stomach issues.

2. The state of my stomach can drastically impact the state of my mind.

You've probably heard the old saying, "You can win a man's heart through his stomach." However, research has only recently discovered how much emotions are tied to the gut. This is called the brain-gut connection, and scientists have found that poor gut health can actually negatively impact people's moods. For example, people with IBS and gut problems to experience more anxiety and depression than expected on average, and an unhealthy gut has also been linked to conditions like chronic fatigue, ADHD, OCD, and Tourette syndrome. I've experienced first-hand how much my stomach problems and medically restricted diet can impact my mindset. When I'm going to a new restaurant with gluten free options or trying a new gluten free product that I'm still not sure will sit well on my stomach, I feel my heart rate increase and my hands start to get sweaty as anxious thoughts swirl through my mind. I think the isolation that can result from not being able to eat "normally" at college pizza parties or out with friends has also contributed to feelings of loneliness, and on days when I wake up randomly super bloated, I definitely have a harder time wearing a smile.

I don't say all this for pity or to suggest that having celiac disease means that I'm constantly anxious, sad or lonely. As I've shared in many posts, you can absolutely thrive with celiac disease and I have not let my gluten free diet hold me back from dating, going on outdoor adventures and eating at plenty of delicious restaurants. However, I do think it is important to make people aware of how much an "upset tummy" can really impact a person's day!

3. Social isolation is one side effect of celiac disease doctors don't warn you about.

Speaking of social isolation...a recent study found that restrictions can contribute to people feeling more lonely or isolated, and I get that. As the study points out, people commonly bond over food and sharing a meal...and when you can't do that, feeling like you belong can be a little bit more challenging. At least in my experience, this is one side effect of the gluten free diet (and life with celiac disease) that no doctor or nutritionist ever warned me about. After my celiac diagnosis, I was given advice on what foods to avoid and the best gluten free brands to buy, but I had no guidance for how to maintain social ties while turning down most of the food ever offered to me.

Source

Six years into having celiac disease, I have a well-stocked toolkit to help me survive any gluten-filled social event. I am open with friends about my dietary needs and am confident in turning down food with a short, "Thank you so much, but I have celiac disease so I can't eat that." And if someone does ask, "What is celiac disease?" in return,  I feel confident enough to explain. In the case of a social invitation where I know gluten-filled food will be involved, I typically:

Eat before the event.

Bring my own food.

Call the restaurant (if applicable) to ask about gluten free options, and eat there if I can safely or follow step 1 or 2.

As it's clear to see, celiac disease is about much more than my stomach - it also requires plenty of thinking ahead and the use of a well-experienced brain. ;)  

4. When I'm "glutened," more than just my stomach can suffer.

Just like celiac disease has plenty of different symptoms, people with celiac disease also experience different side effects of being "glutened" (or exposed to gluten) after going gluten free.

Personally, when I'm glutened, I typically don't feel the effects for a few days. Then, all of a sudden, I'll get extremely tired but also become unable to fall asleep, have massive brain fog and lose my appetite or have an upset stomach. It often takes me about a week to feel normal, and even longer to feel "good" (in terms of my stomach no longer being upset and having extra energy).

Beyond more expected side effects like vomiting or diarrhea, though, people with celiac disease can also experience gluten-triggered depression and fatigue, rashes, joint pain, migraines, blurry vision...I suppose you could say that no part of the body is safe.

5. Celiac disease has become a part of who I am - not just what my stomach is like.

But the biggest reason why celiac disease is about more than my stomach is simple: celiac disease is a part of ALL of me. As I've shared before, I don't make my chronic illnesses my entire identity. However, I think it is impossible to ignore how much celiac disease has shaped who I am today. Because of celiac disease, I am... ...a foodie and a big fan of experimenting with and trying new (gluten free) foods. ...an even bigger lover of planning ahead and sticking to a routine. ...not afraid to stand up for myself or others with invisible and/or chronic illnesses.

And those traits are why, in some moments, I am happy that celiac disease affects more than just my stomach. What is one way you've realized celiac disease affects more than just your stomach? Or what is one way your medical condition affects more than what people might think? Tell me in the comments!

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