#current day physiotherapy

[emry-stars-art]

Hi, soooo I'm currently studying phisiotherapy AND at the same time I'm sucker for good cuddling and soft scenes AND I have hate love relationship with scars (visually I think they can be attractive but in a lot of other aspects they just suck). Anyway so u know how scar tissue is a bit** to work with and can cause a lot of problems like numbness in scared area, decrease in range of movement, phantom pains etc. What I'm trying to say is Neil needs A LOT of therapy sessions which should contain some salves manual work with scars and maybe needle therapy which is just prettier way to say sticking hundreds of tiny needles right thru scared tissue which most definitely will hurt BUT what if during all of this they only will learn more about themselves and will have excuse to spend long hours together away from prying eyes and most importantly being soft, clingy, touch starved wholesome dumbasses with one shared braincell?

Sorry for long, boring and probably unnecessary not so much question or message as just my thought vomit I just wanted to share.

Have a great day🫡😅🧡

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BORING AND UNNECESSARY I LOVE IT

omg thank you for bringing your expertise into this, I absolutely wrote the “long hours being touch starved wholesome dumbasses” bit into my notebook lmao. Yeah! This is good!! I’m SUCH a sucker for soft moments like this I’m right there with you. I was bouncing ideas with @paradoxolotl on it and I love the idea of Day being very methodical, he might know some of this stuff already and then he goes out of his way to learn everything he needs to know to make sure Abram can still be taken care of when he won’t let anyone else touch him. Still talking him through everything. Andrew would be as careful as we all know he can be, he never takes for granted the trust Abram has when he allows Andrew to give him more painful massages/therapy, and after, Andrew’s touch softens and neither of them ever mention that he’d already finished the actual exercise/massage a few long minutes ago… idk anything about physiotherapy so I bet there’s lots of great art/story fodder here that I’m just unaware of so if you have any specific ideas I’d love to hear them 👀👀 but here’s what I did draw, hopefully it’s not too completely incorrect 😅

(Shout out to @anon-lemon for making me realize I needed to draw Andrew with his hair down 💕)

Anyway thank you for the ask, together we can make this both incredibly angsty AND incredibly fluffy 😌🥰

[hairtusk]

yes my job is very difficult and i'm often very tired. but also, i have a gaggle of autistic teen girls who flock to sit with me in the staff room every morning while i drink coffee and check my emails, and they're all very excited to talk to me about their current hyperfixations (they're mostly 13 and the current shared one seems to be the titanic), and every morning i'm the only person who can deliver physiotherapy to one of my students who has cerebral palsy so that she isn't in pain for the whole school day, and i can make all of my girls laugh and offer emotional support for school and home problems, i make sure they understand their work in class, i talk them down from panic attacks, i recommend them music, and i can be there when they need to talk. so at least i can be the teacher to them that i needed when i was a fragile 13 year old girl :')

[wolfiafuntime]

Modern! Cult Member! Aether

This was meant to be a bunch of headcanons about the different members of Zhongli's cult but then I got way too deep into Aether's bit lol. Also, this is written in a (slightly different?) style.

Ft. Modern! Cult! SAGAU (X Reader but only mentions)

TW: Cults, Children being in cults + maybe some more but you're gonna have to tell me what

Published: July 3, 2023

Words: 1,824

Pages: 5.3

 He joined the cult five years after it was created, shortly after waking up from a five-year coma. Was semi-brought into the cult by his sister Lumine, but he mainly joined because he discovered that his daughter, Payton, (who is currently ten) had been indoctrinated and renamed to Paimon.

 Despite the gratitude he had towards his sister for enlightening him, he didn't like the fact that she A: Changed his daughter's name, B: Pulled her out of school, and C: Moved her into a house in the middle of nowhere. He dislikes it so much that he wants to take his daughter back and cut Lumine off completely, but he's unable to because of all the therapy he needs to go through. Physiotherapy and occupational therapy to be specific. He- despite just being brainwashed into believing a false god exists- somehow managed to pass multiple psychological assessments.

 Never gets a response whenever calls his daughter 'Payton', and it pains him so much. Even more so when she, sometimes, gets upset for saying 'the wrong name', because she now thoroughly believes her name is 'Paimon'. And somehow doesn't realize that his daughter has been indoctrinated into a cult. He doesn't even think to complain about it to anybody, because he doesn't want to be a bother :(.

 Stays in a shelter in Teyvat City as he gets back up on his feet. Either takes up a job as a bartender at Angel's Share, unknowing that his boss Diluc Ragnvindr is a member of the cult he doesn't know his daughter is in. Or he takes up his old job as a cop, despite the fact that he was put into a coma by one of his superiors. He desperately needs the money, and both are lucrative jobs.

 For about two months, his knowledge on the cult remains scarce. He only knows three things about it. A: he sun, planets, and moons were created by a god known only as the Creator, who died. B: There are seven churches that the Enlightened usually live in so they can be free of judgement. And C: Each member of the church wears some piece of jewelry representing one of their dead god's dead children. That's all he learned from Lumine before deciding he'd only talk to her about Payton/Paimon.

 Who he's taken up to calling Pay-Pai so he doesn't upset anyone.

 He gets talked into at least visiting the church during a Father-Daughter day at the park, when Pay-Pai spotted a fellow cultist church member. Officer Amber Outrider (who is his partner in the police job route). Excitedly, his daughter called the officer over, and the brunette happily obliged. The three (mainly Paimon and Amber; he doesn't like talking much) chat for a while; starting about how their respective days had been so far, before abruptly changing to Their Grace.

 "So, Aether, why haven't you visited the church yet?" Amber asks, her expression effortlessly innocent, and yet with her hands on her hips. Geniunely curious but ready to judge him at a moments notice, Aether realized. It would be best for him to be honest, he figured. After all, she was a fellow believer in Their Grace, and someone his daughter obviously trusted and admired. But his daughter, who was practically swinging his hand as she parroted Amber's question, had him hesitating...

 "Oh, I, uh, don't have a ride. And I don't want to be a bother to anybody." Aether ultimately said. A half-truth that avoided the main reason why he didn't visit the church: Lumine. Every time they met, Aether felt his anger towards her slowly rising. Mainly because he had no real opportunity to scold her for everything she's done.

 "Well, in that case, why don't I give you a ride this Monday? I'd be more than happy to take you there if you'd like." Amber offered, and Aether mentally cursed himself. Why did he have to say something that could be so easily overcome? Now he had no excuse...

 A few days later, and he's nervously sitting in the passenger seat of Amber's patrol car. And he silently allows the officer to talk his ears off about the upcoming service and the other members. Who, apparently, have been eagerly awaiting his arrival since Paimon came back raving about it.

 The drive to the church is a long one, with twenty minutes spent getting out of Teyvat City, and another forty spent on a highway. He takes a silent, steadying breath as Amber pulls into a dirt parking lot, and carefully scans the church before him. Deciding that it's in good condition, he moves his attention to the cars Amber's parking next to. A pale gold minivan, a regular white van, a blue prius, a black hona, a white dodge challenger, and two other cop cars.

 Some other people are climbing out of their vehicles at the same time he's climbing out of Amber's. And he's very surprised to find that one of them is his very own boss. In his shock, he blurts out his boss's name (Mister Ragnvindr/Chief Gunnhildr), who blinks surprisedly at him. If Diluc is his boss, he'd sigh tiredly before reminding him, for the umpteenth time, that he prefers to be called by his name. And if Jean is his boss, she'd give him a small smile before saying he doesn't need to be so formal outside of work. But, no matter who the boss is, they give him a warm welcome to the church.

 When he actually enters the building, his darling daughter charges up to him and latches herself onto his leg. And in that moment, all of his nerves vanish. His tense muscles loosen and a smile slowly comes to his face as Pay-Pai drags him to meet her friends and give him a tour of the building. It isn't until the service begins, which is about ten minutes after his arrival, that he realizes he hasn't seen Lumine at all. And it isn't until the prayers are said and the songs are sung that he gets to ask about it.

 "Oh, Miss Lumine? She left a few days ago to deliver something to the Church of Liyue, but for some reason, she hasn't returned yet..." The church's Deaconess, Barbara, explained meekly. The words instantly stuck a sense of fear into Aether's heart; the knowledge that his baby was left alone with strangers petrifying to him. And his rage towards Lumine grows hotter and brighter as he realizes his own sister is completely untrustworthy.

 He stays silent after that, knowing that, if he were not careful, the rope that is his sanity and patience would finally snap. Thankfully, he's not much of a talker, so his daughter doesn't notice anything wrong as she brings him downstairs for lunch with the other Believers. There, he mostly hangs out with the other adults and listens to them talk over wine and pie. He almost rejects some wine when one of the members, Venti, offers him some. Which is what ultimately leads him to spilling his trouble-filled guts out to the group ten minutes later.

 "Well, if you're having such troubles, my friend, then why don't you join the church and move on in? I know that you're having troubles with your sister, but it sounds like a lot of them come from not being able to see your daughter." Venti suggested, placing a comforting hand on Aether's shoulder.

 "R-Really? You *hic* guys would let me do that?" Aether drunkenly asked, his voice unsure.

 "Of course," Jean spoke, her voice instantly drawing everyone's attention to her. "It would be a shameful, as a Believer of the Creator, to turn you away in such a harrowing time."

 Safe to say, Amber didn't give him a ride back to the city that day. He did get a ride back the next day from a fellow Believer named Noelle, but that was mainly to retrieve what little things he had at the shelter. And he had a conversation with his boss to have his hours rearranged. Instead of working a five-day night shift, he's now working a three-day day shift.

 Lumine didn't appear once during the first week Aether was staying there. A fact that angered him more and more every day- but unlike before- the anger wasn't overtaking his everyday life. It seemed that one Believer, Venti, was right on the mark with what he said. Now that he was seeing his daughter on a daily basis, he was a lot happier with life.

 In the days coming up to the ceremony, he helps with various chores and participates in various religious practices. The tasks range from cleaning the church with Barbara and Rosaria, cooking with the kids, creating soon-to-be-destroyed art with Albedo, and sparring with the teens. And, of course, there was the preparation for the upcoming ceremony. Which included finding out what Vision he got, where his Vision would go, getting him some fancy clothes, and a lot of practice.

 He only has to sacrifice one thing during his stay there, and that's phone service. Because, while the church has a supply of water and electricity, there's no internet or cellular data.

 On the morning of the actual ceremony, some people from the other six churches of Their Grace arrived. That way, should he ever be chosen to deliver something to them, they would be able to easily recognize him. He had a short conversation with all of them, bonding particularly well with a pair of men named Xiao and Kazuha (from the Temple of Liyue and the Shrine of Inazuma respectively).

 The Ceremony itself was a beautiful thing, if a bit like a wedding. Everyone was dressed in their best attire, and Aether was wearing an all-white suit. He was made to stand at the entrance of the church while Jean, being the High Priestess of the church, stood behind the altar. Meanwhile, Barbara, being the only musical one in the church, stood alone on the chancel. Soon, Barbara began to sing a song- the language unknown, but said to be the universe's first language- and Jean started the Prayer of Acceptance. At the same time, Aether started slowly making his way down the aisle.

 By the time he made it to the altar, Jean and Barbara had finished their jobs. Jean then grabbed his new Vision- an Anemo jewel fashioned into an earring- walked around the altar, and put it on his left ear. And when she backed away, everyone in the church started cheering and clapping, before swarming him for hugs and handshakes.

[cripple-woe]

I’m so tired.

I’m unable to sleep but I can’t stay awake. I’ve been spending more time in bed. I wake up and eat something. Sometimes I keep it down, and sometimes I don’t. Depends on how much my body hurts. Feeling so much physical pain that my body struggles to process it and makes me throw up is an experience.

i haven’t been reading because I find myself staring at the gaps between sentences without taking anything in. My plate looks increasingly sparse as I find myself unable to cope with the portions. My jaw gets worse. All of my foods have to be soft and easy to chew, now. I miss gum, even though I never liked it all that much.

I sit down between turning on the water boiler and dispensing the hot water because it takes too long. I drink bitter coffee because it might help me stay awake longer.

My back is so bad that I’ve taken multiple trips to the ER, for constant vomiting due to the pain. Mostly water, though. Not much food in me after a certain point.

I go and see my rheumatologist physiotherapist sometimes. It’s kind of like a field trip. I go to an area of the city I don’t usually get to see, even if it’s just a car ride to the hospital and back home. She asks me what my progress is. We can’t figure out why I seem to stay stagnant or get worse. My exercises get simpler and simpler. We abandon two ranges of arm motion for one. My current aim is to keep enough strength that I can still lift my college bag. Then we change heel raises to “walking backwards and forwards slowly with a purpose.” Because walking is something I need physiotherapy for, now, apparently. She gives me what is essentially a back brace. She tells me to not do any physio work until I see her next, because of my spine. We don’t know what’s wrong with it. What’s wrong with me.

And I still go to college (though my work is suffering), and I still commute every day, too. It takes a long time to walk (limp? Shuffle?) to the top of my street to catch the bus, but it’s worth it I think. It’s the only social life I have.

I’m so tired.

I need a cripple who knows more than me. A fuckin elder cripple or something. Wise old disabled guys, send me wisdom.

[jarenka]

Some quick thoughts about Anakin's health in my post-ROTJ AU

His treatment and rehabilitation was very long for gffa standards where people recover from a mortal wound in three days with a help of bacta. He has a good doctor and couple of medical droids who assist her. Anakin has no idea why rebels keep him here, in medical facility, not in a jail. Yes, his condition is bad but he spent last 20+ years like that. He can bet his treatment in not cheap.

"Maintain you current condition isn't cheap too" says his doctor. She is relatively young, idealistic and always speak about "improving his quality of life". Anakin find her annoying. He didn't think about his future. He didn't know if he need this "quality of life". He will rot in jail or something.

Well, he won't, of course. After one month he is ready for interrogations. Luke and Ahsoka talk him into exchanging all Empire's secrets for his freedom. Long months of investigation he spends in medical facility, undergoing many surgeries, then going to physiotherapy. When everything is done and Anakin can join rebels, he finally leaves hospital.

On the one hand, his current state is... Kinda limiting. Anakin has way less physical strength and can't fight like Vader. He gets tired relatively easy and there are no stimulants to "fix" it. If he fuck up his diet and sleep schedule he feels sick. He need to take some meds for the rest of his life. He need to alter his fighting techniques.

On the other hand, Anakin can do a lot of regular things now. Eat tasty food. Go swimming. Sleep in a nice bed. Hug people without any restrain. His body was a source of pain and suffering for 20+ years, but now it serves him well. His stumps or his spine sometimes hurt, but overall he can spend days without pain.

From time to time he still thinks about being not strong enough. His prosthetics covered with synthskin won't survive a proper fight. He has to remind himself that he doesn't participate in real fights now.

[ayjadasblogforeverything]

catch-up tag!

@deneb-al-giedi tagged me, thank you!

fav colour: yelloooooooowww! (and I also really like green, especially for clothing, even though I don't have anything in proper green right now)

last fun activity: just now playing the piano, but yesterday evening playing a game with my parents, and a couple of days ago going to the pride together with d!

song stuck in my head: nothing completely but then also 5 modern church songs (they are ideal to practice playing a melody with accompaniment), night book and lady labyrinth by ludovico einaudi and for whatever reason, haven't listened to it in ages, rondò veneziano by rondò veneziano. it's like someone is playing randomly with the frequency control of my internal radio

fav food: yes. who has a clear answer to that?? i still love red cabbage with bohemian dumplings. but i also love salads and sushi and korean fried chicken and falafel-döner and curries and.

sweet/spicy/savory: sweet or savory! spicy can be nice as well, but i want a perfect amount of it that is hard to hit, too little and it's boring, too much and it just hurts.

last thing I googled: Katastrophenschutz (disaster management - perhaps they are looking for a mathematician? spoiler: they are not.)

current obsession: word of honor, but i feel like that might be slowly petering out TT_TT apart from that, i have short bursts of passion for mathy topics that i want to learn more about, like

optimization (it's useful! i love when you can optimize shit without machine learning! i hated it before!),

machine learning (easier to get a job with! and the theory is actually interesting!) and

geometric group theory (my long term love affair! it can be pretty! look at all those symmetries!)

but i very rarely act on it :(

something you're looking forward to: uh. a job? (okay, having money.) right now, i am also looking forward to physiotherapy, i am always curious what she comes up with next.

i am tagging @sirenofthegreenbanks, @apprenticesofdeweyhigh and @striving4mikey, if you are feeling up to it!

[ronastudies]

january 12-15 // omnia vincit aequatio challenge days 9-12

what a whirlwind 💫

friday (day 9) - barely managed to open my eyes when i woke up, tried to wake up my mind my reading before getting out of bed - two and a half hours of layout meeting for the campus magazine - physiotherapy - did a personality test for my roommate's study project - tried to do read some papers and failed to concentrate - went out for a glass of wine with a friend to whose book project I'm throwing in a couple of pages (due this upcoming weekend at the latest) - ended the night with good conversation and being walked home

saturday (day 10) spent the day living like a writer: got up early, wrote a couple of pages by the fire with a cup of coffee, took a break to eat a late breakfast and converse with the roommates, went back to a writing frenzy while listening to and audio book and folding laundry, ended up writing about twenty pages. finished combining these with some i had written months ago into the final chapter i wanted to hand in this weekend, did so after midnight.

sunday (day 11) Had to get up early again to catch the train to see my family. Barely awake but armed with peppermint tea and my laptop, I used the train ride to do some more work for the campus magazine. Enjoyed time with family and food. Skipped working on the way home to read some more. Finished the night by doing housework & cleaning for the week.

monday (day 12) What is it about Mondays recently that I wake up feeling like I'm coming down with something? Worked from home due to feeling under the weather, somehow managed at least 7 hours and cooking a nice big lunch (with leftovers from grandma's yesterday), took a long nap, skipped the gym due to a sore throat and spent a couple of hours reading in bed cuddled up with the cat. Could have definitely done more academic work if I had pushed myself.

---

Currently reading: Beware of Pity by Stefan Zweig (so lovely)

[umbral-dominant]

[Idle Information #3]

By the age of 30, Aramis has been physically disabled for about 7 years. Due to the nature of the injury and the medical capabilities available at the time, he has a chronic nerve pain in the limb that doesn't seem like it will subside anytime soon. It is aggrivated by cold and eased by warmth, often leading him to rubbing it to try and facilitate bloodflow.

While healing magic technically existed at the time of the loss of his leg, the scale from when it was cut off to them being found by the morning guard nearly sun high later was far too late to provide much assistance beyond proper stabilization. The only reason he didn't bleed out in the first place was because of his Dominant Aether, which spent most of the time fighting off potential infection.

As he didn't Prime fully, the limb didn't restore - and neither does it if he becomes a his full Eikon. The wound will never recover because of how old it is, just like his scars will not heal either. Aramis's aether is not made to 'heal' so those parts that do (such as his fingers that were bitten off) have he consequence of numbed feeling and lack some mobility.

He was not fully given time to properly adjust too using his prosthetic (as modern day physiotherapy isn't completely present) and then due to imprisonment for 3 years in Balmung Dark lacking the device, he still has difficulty walking, leading him to possess a noted limp in some terrain. The current one he wears was given as a show of good faith by Cid and the Hideaway, as before that Aramis was just trying to carve them himself to limited success.

[thepro-lifemovement]

When [Marie] had her 20-week scan doctors found that Ava had a lot more amniotic fluid surrounding her body than did her sister Mila.

As Loftus and Corrigan explain

They drained some of the fluid while the girls were still in the womb, but it continued to build back up. This confirmed their diagnosis that Ava had esophageal atresia and tracheo-esophageal fistula as she was not swallowing the fluid.

These conditions cause an abnormality where the esophagus, the tube that connects the mouth to the stomach, is not attached correctly, ending in a pouch further up her body. Ava was also diagnosed with a brain condition called rhombencephalosynapsis, which is a rare abnormality of the cerebellum, has varying degrees of severity and can cause other disorders such as cerebral palsy.

“Because the condition is so rare, doctors had no idea how severely it would affect her, and I was offered a termination,” Marie said. “It was never an option though, I had to give her a chance to fight.”

Marie underwent an emergency caesarean. Doctors then determined that waiting was no option: it was best for her to have surgery that same day. “Surgeons closed the gap between Ava’s esophagus and windpipe before sewing together the upper and lower parts of the esophagus.”

When Ava was five weeks old, she underwent her second major surgery, to lift her aorta and fix it to the sternum so she could breathe correctly. “Mila and I had been discharged but thanks to the support of The Sick Children’s Trust, we were able to stay with Paul at Crawford House, just next door to where Ava was,” said Marie.

Finally, after 8 weeks, Ava was strong enough to go home.

Loftus and Corrigan conclude their story on an optimistic note

Ava is currently being tube fed as she has no sucking reflex and has regular physiotherapy to help her with head control and general movement, but her surgeons are pleased with her progress. “They’re both little characters, Mila is very chilled out and patient and Ava is really happy and smiley,” said her mum.

[nerdzzone]

Foreboding Frustrations

Summary: An injury has Madeline fretting over new worries and a stressful conversation plants seeds of doubt in her mind.

Part of the Back To You series

-----

June 2015

Elegant and graceful are two words that were often used to describe Madeline.

However, as she dragged herself out of the back of a cab, trying to get her crutches underneath her arms enough to support her weight without bumping her ankle, those words were probably the last two anyone would have used. 

She was relieved to see the driver had already lifted her bag from the other side of the backseat, but as she’d had the forethought to only bring a backpack in an attempt to streamline the travel process, she declined his offer of help to the door and shifted her weight to her right foot as she swung it onto her back. Still getting used to the crutches, she tried her best to retain a hint of dignity as she clumsily hopped towards the apartment building that was Chris’ temporary Atlanta home, but she felt another wave of relief when she glanced up to see him already holding the door open.

The frown on his face as he took in her current pitiful state had her heart aching heavily in her chest, but she held it together and kept up her momentum until she was right in front of him.

“Maddie…” he murmured, the gentleness in his voice only making her situation feel more dire. “You didn’t tell me it was this bad…”

“The crutches are just temporary, it looks worse than it is.”

“You should have told me,” he insisted, holding the door open wide enough for her to squeeze through. “I’m off all weekend, I could have come to New York instead.”

“I needed to get out of the city,” she assured him. “But I appreciate the first class ticket, the extra space definitely came in handy so thanks for that.”

She flashed him a smile, but she knew it was forced and disingenuous and the way Chris’ eyebrows stayed creased together in concern told her that it hadn’t been at all convincing or reassuring. He brushed off her gratitude as he helped her slip off her backpack and slung it over his own shoulder before leading her to the elevator, but the silence that settled between them did nothing to ease Madeline’s misery. The only sound echoing around them was the clicking of her crutches on the floor and Chris’ uncharacteristically quiet welcome had the a twist of dread rising in her stomach.

However, when the elevator doors closed behind them, the words that came out of Chris’ mouth had Madeline thinking the silence might have been preferable.

“So, how bad is it?”

“It’s a grade two sprain,” she answered, fighting to keep her voice from shaking. “I’m on crutches for the next few days at least then once the swelling goes down I’ll have to start physiotherapy, but I’m out for the rest of the spring season.”

Her eyes burned as she swallowed back the sting of tears because as much as she’d tried to sound indifferent about the information she’d shared, it was a hard thing to accept. Pulling out just two weeks before their June performances broke her heart, but what was even more terrifying was the thought of how close she’d come to a career ending injury. Even with a grade two sprain she would have to be careful and meticulous in her recovery to make sure that she regained any lost stability in her ankle, but if it had been just a tiny bit worse then she could have been facing a very early retirement or at least a huge setback in her ability to consistently perform. The thought of not dancing at all for the next six weeks was devastating enough, the thought of never dancing at the same level again was unimaginable.

“I’m sorry, Maddie, that’s really disappointing,” Chris sympathized, but Madeline worried that if she opened her mouth to agree all that would come out was a sob. Instead, she simply shrugged her shoulders and kept her eyes locked on the floor and away from the frown on his face. The ding of the elevator gave her a temporary reprieve from discussing her injury, but once Chris had held the door open long enough for her to hop through it, he followed her out and continued. “Do you have a plan? Do you have a physio in New York already? If you’re thinking of hanging out here for a while then we can track down the best physio in Atlanta and make sure you’re in good hands.”

“The ballet has a physio so I made an appointment with him,” she explained. “But I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I stuck around for a while. I know you’re busy, but getting a little unexpected extra time with you is the only silver lining I could think of.”

He led her through the door of his apartment as she spoke, but once it closed behind her and they were alone - away from any possible prying eyes - she felt the emotions she’d been fighting finally get on top of her. Her mind had been racing ever since her fall the night before. The disappointment, the fear, the list of things she needed to do to set herself up for success, it all had her feeling completely overwhelmed. The one thought that kept shining through the rest was that she needed Chris. He always made her feel better and knew just what to say, but what she craved most was the comfort of simply being in his arms.

Something in the way her voice broke must have caught his attention as the sympathy returned to his eyes and he let her bag drop to the floor.

“Of course I don’t mind. I’d love for you to stay, I always miss you when I’m filming.” 

His assurance had the tears that were swimming in Madeline’s eyes finally welling over and slipping down her cheeks and she was relieved when he leapt into action, moving forward to let her balance against him as he leaned her crutches on the wall. She needed no more encouragement than the feel of his arms sliding around her waist to melt into his embrace and - making sure to keep her weight off of her left foot - she buried her head against his chest. As his strong arms wrapped around her like a safety blanket, she finally took a moment to give in to the sadness that had been haunting her all day.

It was tempting - as she soaked up the comfort he was offering - to crumble entirely. She’d been desperately holding it together because she knew that once she started letting the emotions out, it would be hard to reign them back in, but despite the need for a good cathartic cry she knew from the tension in his muscles that a breakdown would come with more questions and as she wasn’t in the mood to discuss how she was feeling, she forced herself to get it together almost as quickly as she’d let herself start to fall apart.

“I’m okay,” she assured him, hoping the accompanying sniffles wouldn't undermine her words. “But can we just not talk about it tonight? I’d love to just not think about it for a while.”

When she leaned back to look up at him, his worry was written all over his face. However, after a moment of contemplation, he slowly and reluctantly nodded his head.

“Sure, but can I ask you one last question before I agree to that?” He waited for her to nod before he continued. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“Kinda,” Madeline admitted. “It’s not so bad if I keep it still and I could probably walk on it if I really had to, but it would definitely hurt because it’s pretty painful whenever I move it.”

That information made Chris’ frown deepen even more, but as a sigh fell from his lips he offered her a deal.

“Okay, then I promise that I’ll let it drop if you promise to keep your foot elevated with ice for the rest of the night.”

“I can do that,” Madeline eagerly agreed. “That’s what I had in mind anyway. As much as it might kill me, I absolutely plan on doing everything I’ve been told to do. I don’t want to take any chances.”

There was a flicker of surprise in Chris’ eyes, but it melted quickly into relief. It was a fair reaction considering Madeline’s track record with being a bad patient. Her stubborn tendencies had her almost incapable of slowing down, but while she may have been notorious for pushing through a bad cold or flu, the stakes were too high when it came to an injury and she really did plan on following her recovery instructions as closely as she possibly could.

“I’m really happy to hear that,” he confessed, taking her assurance as permission to help her and bending just enough to slide his arm under her knees and lift her into his arms. “I was worried I’d have to fight with you all weekend to get you to take it easy.”

Madeline felt a smile slide onto her lips as she draped her arm around Chris’ shoulder while he carried her into the living room taking extra care not to bump or jostle her ankle.

“You were going to fight with me?” She questioned. “In my time of need?”

“I didn’t want to,” he insisted, her teasing tone twisting his lips into a smile of his own. “But I was psyching myself up for it. I know how important rest is for injuries like this and I know you like to think you’re too tough to ever need a break.”

“Not this time, this time I know I have no choice.”

She’d fought to keep her voice nonchalant, but she heard the strain - the edge of fear that she couldn’t shake from her mind - and the way Chris paused as he placed her on the couch with his eyes tracing over her face as if searching any crack in the brave façade she was putting on told her he could hear it too. However, she was relieved when he kept his promise and didn’t push the issue.

“Well, you’re in good hands,” he informed her as he stepped away to pull the coffee table close enough for her to rest her leg on and found a cushion to place under her ankle. “I’ll be your nurse all weekend. I’ll grab you some ice now, but if there’s anything else you want then just let me know. I’m here to tend to your every need.”

“Wow, I’m so lucky,” Madeline giggled, watching him hurry off to the kitchen before shouting after him, “We should get you a sexy outfit!”

She heard his chuckle echo from the other room until he reappeared with an ice pack in his hand.

“Yeah? Would you like that?”

“I think I would,” Madeline teased, feeling a wave of gratitude as he gently placed the ice on her ankle, glancing at her to make sure it was in the right spot. “I think it just might make this whole mess worthwhile.”

“If that’s the case then I’ll see what I can do,” he promised, shooting her a wink. “But for now, is there anything else you need?”

Reaching out to pat the cushion beside her, Madeline shook her head.

“Just you. You’re all I need.”

Flashing her a smile that warmed her heart, Chris moved around the table to join her on the couch.

“I think I can handle that,” he agreed, leaning in for a kiss as soon as he was sitting beside her. “I love you.”

The words seemed to quiet the anxious thoughts spinning around Madeline’s brain better than anything had all day and she quickly repeated them back to him before shifting the conversations to anything other than her current situation. 

They talked about how excited he was to be jumping back into the world of Steve Rogers, but how tiring it was while his body readjusted to the long days filled with physical stunts and how he was dreading the thought of running around in Captain America’s costume in the hot Atlanta summer. They talked about the places in the city that they could check out if Madeline’s was planning on sticking around and - despite the reason for it - Madeline felt a flicker of excitement at the thought of getting to sleep next to Chris every night for the next few weeks. It was hard for them when he was filming at times when she had to be in New York and it really was a nice silver lining that she was able to travel with him for once. They ordered takeout for dinner and Chris put on her favourite movie, but the exhaustion caught up to him about halfway through as he dozed off with his head in her lap. 

Knowing he needed the rest, Madeline turned down the volume on the TV to make sure it wouldn’t wake him up and as she let her fingers soothingly run through his hair and looked down at his peaceful face, she was struck by just how much she loved him. She’d always been skeptical of soulmates - it seemed crazy to her that there was just one person in the world that everyone was meant to find - but when she thought about her relationship with Chris, she had to admit that all the evidence was there. He really was her other half. When she’d fallen and the immediate agony in her ankle told her that she was in trouble, he was the first person she wanted to talk to. Even as the rehearsal dissolved into chaos and Heidi rushed her to the hospital to make sure her ankle wasn’t broken, he was the only thing on her mind and as soon as she had her diagnosis, booking a flight to see him was all she wanted to do. Being in his presence was the only thing that could calm her frantic heart and she was so grateful for the patience he’d shown her and the care he’d taken of her that evening.

Her anxiety was still bubbling under the surface no matter how hard she’d been trying to push it from her mind, but getting the chance to spend a few unexpected weeks with Chris was a pretty great consolation prize and she just hoped her ankle would heal fast enough that she could truly embrace their time together.

-

The next morning it quickly became clear that none of the calm and optimism that Madeline had gained by her quiet evening with Chris was going to last very long. He’d woken up early to head to the gym with the promise of returning with breakfast and while Madeline felt okay as she lounged in bed, things started going downhill after she used her crutches to swing over to the couch.

She felt her heart sink as soon as she settled her foot on the cushion beside her. The swelling wasn’t quite as bad as it had been the day before, but she was hoping that it would have improved a lot more than it had. Wanting to get a better look at it, she slowly unwrapped the bandage and the still prominent bruise had her anxiety spiking even higher. The pain she’d felt when she’d moved it as she was trying to get out of bed had left her with low expectations, but the sight of how little it seemed to be improving had tears flooding back to her eyes.

Her plan had been to keep the bandage off for a little bit while icing it, but she couldn't bear to look at her bruised and battered ankle a moment longer than necessary. She quickly tried to re-wrap it, but her heightened emotions and the panic that had heart pounding in her chest was proving to be too distracting for her to get everything lined up right. She was vaguely aware of the sound of the front door opening and closing a few minutes later and the sound of Chris calling out to announce his return, but her focus remained so fixated on getting her ankle covered up that she didn’t notice he was home until he was standing right in front of her.

“Whoa, Maddie, what’s going on?” He asked, ditching the bag with their breakfast in it on the table as soon as he saw her flustered state. “Is it your foot?”

“Yes!” Madeline huffed as she screwed up the bandage and threw it onto the couch beside her. “I can’t get this stupid fucking bandage back on.” 

“Oh, that’s okay,” he assured her, his brow furrowed in confusion as he sat on the couch by her foot and cautiously took the bandage from where it had landed. “I can help you with that.”

Feeling her composure starting to slip away, Madeline felt a surge of annoyance rising up as she snapped at Chris.

“It’s not okay. It’s not okay at all! Look at my foot, it’s not getting any better!”

For a moment, Chris looked stunned by her harsh tone, but he stayed calm and didn’t let her outburst faze him.

“It’s only been a day, Maddie. A day and a half, max,” he reminded her. “I know it’s hard to see it like this, but it does look less swollen and these things take time to heal. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Thank you so much, Chris,” Madeline rolled her eyes. “I thought you were an actor, not a doctor, but I’m so relieved that you’re medically trained as well. Your expertise is so helpful.”

Her words were dripping with sarcasm and as she saw Chris’ jaw twitch with annoyance, she had the decency to feel a pang of guilt at how she was speaking to him and that guilt only got worse when he spoke.

“I’m just trying to help,” he assured her, his soft voice sounding even more gentle in contrast with her hostility. “I know you’re frustrated, but don’t take it out on me.”

“I’m not frustrated,” Madeline admitted, letting out a sigh as she knew that he was right and didn’t deserve to be the target of her abuse. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he nodded. “And I know it must be really hard to just wait and have faith that your body will heal, but the doctors said that you were going to be fine in a few weeks, right?”

“But what if I’m not?” Her words were quiet as she was sure that if she spoke any louder her voice would break and she’d lose the battle against the tears she was fighting to control. “What if I’m not fine?”

Chris paused for a moment before lifting his shoulders into a shrug.

“It would be a tough adjustment,” he admitted. “But you’re stronger than you think, you’d get through it.”

“How would I get through it? I would lose my job!”

Madeline’s tone gave away her disbelief in his apparent nonchalance about the severity of the situation, but nothing could prepare her for the next thing that came out of his mouth.

“I think I can handle supporting you financially for a while.”

The words hit Madeline like a slap across the face and she recoiled away from him in disgust. The fact that he thought finances were even a spec of what was causing her grief had her feeling like the man she’d been considering to be her soulmate just the night before didn’t even know her at all.

“Are you serious?” 

Chris nodded hesitantly to confirm that he was and while the look on his face made it clear that he was unsure why she seemed so offended, his cluelessness only made Madeline more angry.

“It’s not about the money, Chris! I didn’t get into ballet for the money! It’s about having a purpose in life and a reason to be proud of myself because dancing is the one thing that I’m actually good at!”

“Maddie, that’s not true,” he insisted. “You have plenty of talents and there’s other things that can provide a purpose in life if it comes to that. You know, like having a family.”

He flashed her a smile that she was sure was supposed to be reassuring as if his words were supposed to ignite a flicker of excitement about their future, but all it did was remind her of the conversation she’d had with Anna at her New Years Eve party a few months earlier. “With a job like yours, you’d need to take at least a year off.” That was what she’d said and that was only referring to a wedding, a family would be an even more time consuming endeavor and not one that Madeline currently had the emotional capacity to even consider.

“I don’t need another purpose,” she told him, her voice firm and frosty as she suddenly felt like she was suffocating under the weight of her anxiety and the conversation they were having. “Can you go away? I want to be alone and I can’t storm away from you right now so I need you to go.”

“Storm away from me? Madeline, what are you talking about? I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” she insisted, swallowing hard as her tears finally managed to push past her defenses and fill her eyes. “Please, leave me alone.”

“No, I wanna talk about this,” Chris demanded, the hurt on his face doing nothing to soften Madeline’s irritation. “You’re upset, I’m not just gonna leave.”

“Fine,” Madeline snapped, carefully moving her foot off the couch. “Then I will.”

Ignoring Chris’ protests and taking extra care to keep her weight off of her ankle, Madeline used the arm of the couch to pull herself to her feet. However, the tears blurring her vision and the emotion charging her movements made her already poor skill with crutches even worse. She’d left them leaning against the back of the couch, but as she frantically tried to move them and settle one under each arm, something got caught in the commotion and sent her tumbling to the floor.

Letting out a cry that had Chris leaping up to help her, Madeline caught herself on her hands and managed to keep her injured foot away from any further danger, but as all the fear, anxiety and frustration finally boiled to an overwhelming point, she found herself completely helpless against the floods of tears that began to stream down her cheeks. She pitifully turned herself until she was sitting on the floor as defeated sobs wracked her body, but it didn’t take long for Chris to appear by her side.

Knowing her choices were limited, she let him help her get back up to standing on her good foot and when he pulled her into a hug, she practically collapsed against his chest. As she’d predicted the day before, once the floodgates were open it was impossible to close them again. She clung to his shirt - partially for balance and partially just to have something tangible to hold onto - and let it all out. She cried for the pain, she cried for the worry and fear about how well or fast her injury would heal, and she cried for the heartbreak of the fact that the one person who she thought always knew what to say had said something so entirely wrong.

She allowed herself a few minutes to cry against his chest and wallow in the things she was feeling before she tried to steady her breathing and get herself back under control. Considering her conversation with Chris was really the only thing upsetting her that she had any control over, she knew it was the easiest thing to fix and she composed herself enough to speak.

“I don’t want your money,” she sniffled, leaning back to look up at him as she frantically wiped at her tears. “I don’t care about that at all.”

“I know you don’t, that was a dumb thing to say,” he admitted. “When you said that you might lose your job, I just thought that maybe you were worried about it and I wanted to offer you any kind of comfort that I could.”

“There is no comfort,” Madeline whimpered, her lip quivering again. “This is a nightmare. My entire life is on the line and all I can do is wait and hope for the best.”

“I know, I can’t imagine how hard that is. I’m so sorry, Maddie.” His words had another wave of pain and anxiety wash over her, but as she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to fight back her tears, she heard Chris quietly murmur, “C’mere.”

As he had the night before, he slipped an arm behind her knees to lift her and carry her back to the couch. Once she was settled with her leg lifted beside her, he briefly disappeared before returning with another ice pack in his hand. He rested it gently on her ankle before sitting on the floor beside her and despite their disagreement, Madeline was grateful that he’d chosen to stay close.

“What am I going to do, Chris?”

The question was so quiet that it barely broke the silence that had settled between them, but it caught Chris’ attention nonetheless and he leaned his arm on the couch as he reached out to grab her hand.

“You’re going to be fine,” he insisted. “You just need to rest it for now.”

“But what if I’m not fine?” She pressed, no longer able to push all the intrusive questions from her mind. “I’ve been working my entire life to get where I am now and it all might just disappear because of one stupid mistake.”

“It’s not gonna disappear. I know it’s hard, but you’ve gotta stay positive,” he reminded her. “You said the doctors think you’ll be okay so you have to trust their judgment and focus on what you can do to help yourself recover.”

“But what if I can’t do enough?”

“Then we’ll worry about that when we know it’s actually a problem,” he shrugged. “But I called one of the guys on the stunt team this morning because I remembered him mentioning that his wife is a physio. Turns out that she’s one of the best in Atlanta - not just in his opinion, it seems like a legit claim - and she said she’d be happy to help you out as soon as the swelling goes down a bit.”

The fact that Chris had been proactive enough to reach out to someone on her behalf made her heart swell in her chest in a way that had a wave of guilt washing over her for how she’d just been treating him.

“Oh,” she sniffled, using the sleeve of her sweater to wipe her eyes again. ���That’s really nice of her.”

“It is,” Chris smiled. “And I know how hard you’ll commit to whatever you have to do to get back on your feet so I have no doubts that you’ll be totally fine, but I’ll be here for you no matter what happens.”

“I know,” Madeline nodded, reigning in her emotions enough to explain her earlier reaction. “I just felt like you were being a little dismissive, I guess. Saying you have enough money to support me and that I can find a new purpose. I’m not ready to even think about that being a possibility and you made it sound like it would be no big deal.”

A frown slid onto Chris’s face as he squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“That wasn’t my intention,” he assured her. “I know how devastating that would be for you. I was just trying to say that I’ll always support you and that we’ll get through this however it ends up, but I’m sorry that I obviously didn’t choose the right words.”

Madeline wasn’t sure that there were any right words to say ‘don’t worry if your career and all your dreams fall apart, we can fill your free time by having a family’, but the exhaustion of the rollercoaster of emotions that she’d been on the last few days had her simply nodding her head and lifting their joined hands to her lips to press a kiss against his skin in acceptance of his apology, letting the subject drop for the time being.

-

To their complete relief, all their worry and stress about Madeline’s injury proved to be entirely unnecessary. The day after their little argument, her ankle was far less swollen and bruised and clearly on the way to recovery. She made an appointment with the physio that Chris had found as soon as she possibly could and after a few weeks of diligently following the exercise plan that was made for her, her ankle felt as good as new. However, despite the positive results, the physio was clear that she still wasn’t allowed to even think about dancing until at least six weeks had passed since the initial injury which meant that although she found it very difficult to be without her favourite activity, she had the perfect excuse to stick around in Atlanta with Chris.

He was busy most days and exhausted by the time he came home, but they were happy to take advantage of any extra time that they were able to spend together. On days when Chris got up early to go to the gym before he had to go to work, Madeline went with him and did whatever workouts she was allowed to while he did his. On any days when Chris got a decent break for lunch, Madeline would join him on set and sometimes stick around to watch him work and every night - no matter what time Chris came home - Madeline would make dinner for them to eat together as they soaked up the novelty of spending their evenings in each other’s company. Even the simple luxury of falling asleep beside each other and waking up in each other’s arms was something they never took for granted and in many ways their relationship felt stronger than ever despite the unfortunate reason that brought Madeline to Atlanta.

But in some ways, Madeline also felt suffocated. The domesticity had been nice at first, but it didn't take long for her to realize that the life of a homemaker wasn’t for her. By the time she was strong enough to return to training, the idea of staying in Atlanta even a day longer than she needed to made her stomach turn. Planning her day around when she could see Chris and spending most of her time just waiting around for him was starting to make her skin crawl as she itched to get back to a life of her own and as much as she loved being around him and valued their time together, the relief that flooded through her as she boarded a plane back to New York had a flicker of worry running through her heart.

-

Next

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[bouquetface]

Hello there!! I wanted to participate in your solar return chart game. First of all, I really love how you explained your terms and rules and you seem like a sweet person😭

Umm yeah so I read it carefully so my birthday is 15.6.2005 and my birth time is 7:39 A.M. I was born in Yangon, Myanmar (Burma) and I currently live in Yangon, Myanmar (Burma). My current favorite song is Girls just wanna have fun by Cyndi Lauper.

Thank you so much for hosting this game and I hope you would choose me because I’ve been having a really hard time since saturn retrograde - dreaming about exes and being not productive and I really wanna know what my solar return would tell me😩 Anyways, have a nice day and blessings to you❤️

Hello 👋

Getting a higher education may be important in your chosen career. You may decide to go for grad school or a phD. You may live abroad eventually. Maybe even for schooling.

In your career, you would receive a lot of attention. You could later become an entrepreneur. A career in Law may appeal to you. However, movement is important in your career. This could indicate a physical career for example physiotherapy. Or playing on a sports team in uni. It could also indicate moving location for career. You may consider modelling as well. You have similar placements to fitness influencers.

Physically, you may appear youthful. You could have physical hobbies such as playing sports, hiking, swimming, gymnastics.

In relationships (friendship, business and romantic) watch out for controlling partners. You may encounter people who want to dim your shine. Maybe out of their jealously or insecurity. You could have relationships where they are manipulative. They want you to “save them”. They want all your attention and love but do not do the same for you.

Your future spouse is going to be very caring. They are a charming person. Polite, well groomed/handsome and very funny. They are very caring as well. They may at some point end up working from home. Or work on homes in some way. Ex: Real estate.

In your solar return, you have pluto retrograde conjunct chiron in 7th H. Your 7th ruler, saturn is in retrograde too. All this is making 2024, a year to reflect on past relationships.

This month, around July 15th, mars will conjunct uranus in 10th H. Mars traditionally rules your 9th & 4th. This indicates personal life may be made into public life. For example, people could be talking about you a lot around this time. If you feel you have kinda bad gossipy friends, try to avoid telling them any personal information. You may receive surprise news about higher education as well. Maybe an application update. 9th H is travel as well. You may have to cancel a trip or plan a trip. Uranus is surprise so it’s hard to predict what it will be. It may go unnoticed too. Maybe you are being discussed by other people. Nothing too bad so don’t worry it’ll all pass by soon enough.

Your natal first house planets, Venus & Mercury, are transitting your first house. This is positive energy. You may be receiving new status this year. Possibly getting a job, changing a job or promotion. Maybe you are graduating from something too. A celebration regarding you is likely this year. You may feel more sociable this year. You could start to friendships. Find a new community.

I hope you liked the reading 🫶 Please leave feedback.

[softquietsteadylove]

Would you do a Thenamesh soft moment with a forehead kiss? Whatever AU goes with it :)

Gil came out of his room with a yawn. It was some time late evening, it seemed. His sleep schedule still wasn't entirely back to normal with the heavy pain meds he was on for his injuries. But he would be in physiotherapy and on desk-duty at work soon enough.

Maybe it was insane to look forward to being back at work given that he had been shot and his collarbone was broken pretty badly. But what could he say?--he missed his job.

He missed Thena.

Although he was seeing more of her than ever, in his current state.

He smiled when he came into the living room, leaning on the wall with the soft glow of his lamp warming the room up. She really was beautiful.

Thena was stretched out on his couch. She kept saying she had to stop doing this, and yet every time he let out a yawn, she would tell him to go and lie down and she would tidy up and then head home. And then he would inevitably come back out to her asleep like this.

Thena had a real angelic look to her, despite the hardened Goddess of War image she presented. She was laid against the arm of the couch, a throw pillow behind her back and head, her hair splayed out behind her and reading glasses still on her nose.

Gil walked over (his limp was improving by the day). He took his time sitting down to look at her. He pulled her glasses off, pushing her hair back when it fell forward with them.

Thena moved faintly in her sleep, pushing the angle of her cheekbone up against his touch more with a sigh.

"Sh," he whispered reflexively, unwilling to give up the opportunity to gaze up on this wonder of beauty just yet. "It's just me."

Thena adjusted on the little set up she had on his couch. It couldn't have been good for her back, but he supposed she was getting pretty used to it. Her eyes fluttered, "Gil."

"Yeah, I'm here," he smiled, getting lost in letting his finger trail over her silken skin. She was so pale, and so blonde, but it really worked on her. Everything worked on her.

These were not the kind of thoughts to have about his boss.

Despite his efforts to lull her back into sleep, she was too alerted to his presence, her eyes fluttering open slowly but surely. She looked like a goddamn fairy tale princess, her eyes soft and green, her lips parting gently. She smiled, "hey."

"Hey," he whispered in the quiet of his living room at some godforsaken hour in the morning. He leaned his back against his coffee table, which Thena had files and papers spread over liberally.

Thena inhaled, trying to muster some energy as she turned over to face him more. "What time is it?"

"No idea," he shrugged. It was probably some time around 3 in the morning. He tilted his head at her, "you comfortable?"

Thena nodded, even though he could see the awkward bend of her spine in her current position. "I've got to stop doing this."

"I keep telling you I don't mind," he whispered in light admonishment of her insistence that she couldn't be falling asleep at his place. "If anything, I keep telling you to just let me set out real blankets and pillows for you."

"Oh, stop it," she sighed, turning herself again, twisting the blanket with her. "There's no need. I just dozed off looking over some things Kingo sent me."

She had done so pretty consistently since she started helping him around the house.

"Sure," he chuckled, ignoring her stubborn - cute - little pout as he reached up with his good hand and adjusted the blanket over her. "Well, feel free to doze off again--is all I'm saying."

"And what about you? Did you just get up?" she whispered, her eyes running over him in the faint light casting shadows all over the place. She automatically started rising up from the couch.

"Hey, take it easy, Boss," he whispered back, putting his hand on her shoulder to ease her back down to her pillow. Maybe he should get new ones--ones that would be more supportive of her neck and gentler on her hair. Since she was sleeping here so much.

Thena sighed, settling back on the pillow as directed. Her eyes travelled over him, and he felt exposed in his white t-shirt and dark sweatpants. He usually slept shirtless, but - again - felt too self-conscious doing so with Thena around.

"Are you in any pain?"

Gil smiled. She asked him that all the time now, since leaving the hospital. He knew she cared--more than she would ever really be able to put into words, knowing her. He tapped his thumb against her cheek, "I'm fine, Thena--really."

She didn't show any sign of response at first, searching him for signs that would contradict his statement. It seemed she was always doing this, lately.

"Thena," Gil said gently, leaning forward. He frowned, "I'm okay, you know. We're both okay."

Her brows knotted up even more, her eyes staring at his sling. "Gil, I'm-"

"No," he shook his head. "Nope, nu-uh--no more apologising. Thena-"

"Gil," she whispered, her voice becoming high and thin. She blinked, and he caught the glassiness in her shimmering green eyes. "You...because of-"

He moved his thumb from her cheek to press into her lips, without a better way of silencing her and her insistence that his injuries were somehow her responsibility. His eyes followed his thumb as he moved it across the plumpness of her bottom lip to the corner of it. "No more of that. It's no one's fault. And you were the one who pulled me out of there, if I have to remind you again."

Thena sighed, at least not arguing with him for the moment. She probably would at some other time, but he could handle that then. For now, she sank back into the couch.

Gil traced his thumb down her other cheek, following the natural slope of the hollow of it. "You are the reason I'm here, Thena. Never forget that."

Her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned all the way forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. It wasn't the first time he'd done this, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last. But this did feel...different.

She blinked at him a few times as he pulled back, solidifying the realisation that he had, in fact, actually done that. He gulped. "Uh-"

Thena reached her hand up to his cheek, pulling him back to her slowly and gently. Her lips pressed to his cheek, still close enough to brush against his skin as she whispered, "go back to sleep, Gil. I'll be here when you wake up."

These were not the things he needed to hear to not think about his boss like this.

Thena settled herself on the couch and throw pillow again, her eyes drooping. She blinked at him, "get some rest."

He just nodded, not trusting himself to speak intelligible words. He stood with the help of the coffee table supporting him, turning out the lamp.

Even without its warm, yellow light, Thena still glowed like a vision form a dream.

"Night, Boss," he whispered as he limped his way back to his room. Not that he was going to get any sleep. His heart was pounding and he was just going to be thinking about the feeling of Thena's lips against his cheek for the rest of the night. Forever.

That was why it was so important to keep calling her Boss--so he could remember that this was the woman he respected and worked with on a daily basis. Not at all the woman he was painfully in love with.

[thebeegalaxy]

I hate this body.

I hate this body because it fails me.

Im always in so much fucking pain, I never get a fucking break.

Its currently 4am and I can't fucking sleep because my ankle is in too much fucking pain. Its like if someone stuck my entire foot in acid, and even then I feel like Id rather that. Atleast then I could take my foot out of the acid, atleast then I could get medical care that actually helped.

Im so sick of always being in pain. Whether its my hips, my ankles, my head, or something else; Im so sick of it.

I use crutches and a cane and Istg its not enough but I dont have enough money to get the braces that I need, and sure as fuck don't have hundreds or thousands of dollars to spend on a wheelchair. I dont even have a hundred dollars to spend on a single Physiotherapy appointment each month.

I just want to stop being in pain.

I just want to live a normal, abled life.

I didn't ask for this.

And Im so fucking sick of abled people and how badly they don't understand me or my pain. It is painful to do anything, no matter what.

A short walk to my kitchen and the small amount of standing to make myself food can leave me in agony for an hour or longer.

Having to walk all day at school makes it impossible to do anything else at home, its not a lack of putting in effort.

I am doing the best I can with the body that I have.

Life feels like such a waste when every second of it is spent in agonizing pain.

I just want the pain to be over.

I want to stop living like this.

I hate my life, I hate my body.

[roundtriptojupiter]

i just sprinted across campus to escape the rain, and now i want to talk about my experiences as a cane user while i remember how to breathe again.

i started using a cane 4 years ago, at the end of elementary school. i’ve been chronically disabled (likely fibromyalgia, but currently diagnosed with myofascial pain syndrome; it’s an inaccurate diagnosis, but at least it’s something) my entire life—i struggled to sit cross-legged in kindergarten because it hurt too much, and the first accommodation i ever needed was permission to sit in a normal chair during circle time. i was born early, and both of my parents had issues with their legs in their lives; my father as a child learning to walk, and my mother in her teens, until she got knee surgery when she was 19, but neither were the same as what i have.

i’ve always been an indoor person. i’ve never enjoyed sports, but to this day i don’t know if that’s because i genuinely don’t like them, or because i always end up hurt. so my parents always thought i was just lazy and exaggerating and needed to get in shape. the third one always makes me laugh. when i look at myself in the mirror, i can count all of my ribs. i inherited it from my dad; his nickname was ‘rice’ in high school because he was white and skinny. maybe i’ll grow out of it, i don’t know. people tell me i look sick, and it kind of sucks to tell them that they’re right.

the old pastor at the church i grew up in was a professional volleyball player. there was an inter-church volleyball tournament held every year, and monthly volleyball games within the congregation. when i was in elementary school, i loved it. i loved volleyball more than any other sport i’d ever played; for the most part, i didn’t have to run anywhere, and that was what made the difference. and players were swapped around a lot, so i got a lot of breaks, and it seemed like... maybe i had just been lazy. maybe this was my lucky break.

and my parents signed me up for volleyball camp. i don’t remember how old i was—maybe twelve, thirteen? i could do the math, but my brain is too exhausted. it was only a week long. we did drills, we played games; every day i went back to my parents sobbing and exhausted, with burning red marks on my arms, barely able to stand and far worse than any other child there, even the other ‘lazy’ ones. that was the moment everyone in my life finally realized that something was wrong.

thus started a long, frustrating process and the wonders of the canadian healthcare system.

people love to compliment canada’s healthcare. they love to compare it to usamerica’s, they love to stand on their soapbox and say how great it is— i can always tell whether those people are disabled or not. because, yes. there are a lot of pros. but anybody who preaches that it’s wonderful and flawless will get my cane to their shins. because the reality is, the wait lists span years, and even when you live five minutes away from one of the best youth hospitals in the country, maybe even north america, sometimes they’ll put you through hell for three years straight, then give you the wrong diagnosis, throw an attempt at fixing you at the wall that doesn’t work, and then expect you to move on with your life.

i only have two vivid memories of that three-year process while i was still in elementary school: the beginning, and the end. my first major specialist appointment was with a neurologist. he stuck pins in my leg and arm and sent electric shocks through them to evaluate muscle responses. it was one of the worst pains i’ve ever felt. to this day, i can’t sustain a static shock without my leg buckling or my hand seizing up. my mom held my hand, and i was screaming; i still cry when i think about it. the test came back with nothing.

the end was when i finally saw a physiotherapist. at the time, it felt like a miracle; he spoke to me for what seemed like only ten, fifteen minutes, and gave me a diagnosis and a physiotherapy plan. that was in 2021. the physiotherapy turned out to be hell; i only lasted a few months, even doing the most basic of exercises, and my parents grew sour at the idea of driving me to the other end of the city on a regular basis. so that all shattered into nothingness.

but that’s all just an aside: the real point is, the first time i used a cane was on a school trip to a large city, at the end of elementary school. it was going to involve a lot of walking; something i knew by that point would be difficult. and so my mother gave me a gift. an old, simple, dark red, wooden cane. the same one she’d used in her teen years before her surgery, and kept just in case. i genuinely don’t know if it’s good or not; i don’t know if i could afford a better one. i’m still using it. i think buying a new one would make the reality too real—that i will not get a magic fix, like my mother did.

on that trip, my very first time using a cane, with my grade eight class, was the also the first time that anybody made fun of it. while walking through the city in small groups, another boy in my class called me a grandma from across the street. i ran after him and hit him (not hard) with it, and he kept his mouth shut for the rest of the trip.

when i started grade nine, my high school was a twenty-to-thirty minute walk from my house. (another aside, shorter this time: after almost every other form of exercise was slowly nixed out of my life, walking became my everything. it still kills, but it’s better than anything else.) and it was too much. by the time i reached school every day, i was unable to stand for the national anthem. that was when the cane became a regular part of my life; i took it with me every day for support while i walked, and even when i didn’t need it, it made my disability somewhat more visible. the respectful people saw it and realized that there was something wrong with me. the assholes saw it and were assholes.

here’s another thing about me: i used to have a cousin. i have a lot of cousins, actually, but the one in question was almost my twin. we were born in the same week, and shared a birthday every year growing up, and looked nearly identical—when our hair was the same length, that is. he and i were complete opposites in most other respects; i was a quiet, well-behaved (read: neurodivergent) kid, and he was a loud, trouble-making (read: neurodivergent) kid. but we got along. and we went to the same high school, and it always stunned people to find out that we were cousins.

in grade nine one of my cousin’s friends made fun of my cane, in front of him and me. my cousin shoved his own friend against a locker and threatened him because of it. i wasn’t made fun of for my cane at that school for the rest of my time there (unless you count the things that people say when they don’t mean to be mean, but have also never witnessed someone my age with a cane before. i don’t, but they still hurt.)

my cousin’s gone now. he overdosed on xanax and killed himself in october. it’s my fondest memory of him, when he turned on his own friend to defend me. i didn’t see him for two years before he passed because of covid quarantines and precautions. i genuinely don’t remember the last time i did see him.

and here’s one last thing: people think that growing up disabled with a parent that had suffered similarly would make things easier. but it was the opposite. because my mother wasn’t chronically disabled. she had horrible knee problems that were fixed after years of physiotherapy and a major operation. she was also labeled as gifted and diagnosed with something i forget the name of, which means that it takes more effort for her to perform tasks than it does for other people. and all that has done is this:

a more recent story. i’m currently spending a month living in québec on a university campus. initially, i was slotted to be staying in an off-campus apartment; they moved me to a residence building before i arrived because they knew of my disability. my room is on the fourth floor. there is no elevator. i wonder every day if my would-have-been apartment would have had less stairs.

my mother drove me there. when we arrived, she carried my suitcase up the stairs for me, because i was incapable of doing so myself. and when i complained, mostly lightheartedly—“oh, doing these stairs is going to suck all month”—she turned on me and told me that when she had been just a little bit older than me, she’d done a program in québec and lived on the third floor with no elevator, and she’d just had major knee surgery. and she’d been fine.

it was nothing for her. i still remember her exact words, four weeks later. i don’t know if she’ll ever truly take me seriously, because to her, she was disabled too, and she got through it. i’ve yet to find a way to convince her that it’s different. that not everything has a magic cure if you just work through it.

i’m eighteen now. she was nineteen when she had knee surgery. maybe when i turn nineteen, i’ll finally get a new cane. it’ll be symbolic, of something. i don’t know what. hopefully i’ll figure it out.

[leandraderaven]

My little boy needs help!

My gorgeous cat Neo, who is my companion for over six years, tragically fell from the fourth floor out of the window because my PA (I am a woman with Cerebral Palsy with the need of a 24-hour PA) opened the window after cooking and didn’t inform me right away, after five minutes she told me and we rushed to close the window but it was already too late.

He has multiple fractures and needs treatment, MRI, and Physiotherapy to get well again. He is now battling every day and it’s not sure yet how severe the injuries may be.

Neo- my cat- came into my life when I hit rock bottom. I lost my family and it was basically the darkest time of my life. Neo has given me strength, happiness, and hope throughout those dark times when I’ve dealt with C-PTSD and depression. He has given me everything that he could to keep me alive and hopeful, and now, in his times of darkness and suffering it is my duty as a loving cat mother to return the favor and do everything I can to ensure that he is surviving and to recovering to best of his abilities I need your help. I can not pay the vet bill. Even though I have  2 Jobs, I can barely manage to meet my current costs of living. I can not pay the bill of about around  5000€ or even more, depending on the developments on my own. I need your help and support. Neo needs your help and support!

[ziskeyt]

When i learned i would have to get an EMG (electromyography) my dad and aunt both told me i would hate it cause they stick needles in your muscle to see how to responds. I react poorly to IVs and blood draws, but i have two tattoos and get every vaccine i am allowed to. I wasn’t really sure what to expect because my dad said it was a weird test and he hated it. And i thought, well i’ve had plenty of weird medical tests, i mean barium x-rays and colonoscopies both force you to drink copious amounts of terrible liquid — but nothing. Nothing is as weird as an echocardiogram where they are looking to see if you have a hole in your heart. You learn at some point in your life that air in the blood is bad for you and can kill you, and then one day you’re lying on a hospital bed with a doctor sitting on the bed next to you so she can manipulate the device they hooked your iv up to as she explains how they will be putting air in your blood to look for a hole in your heart. it’ll be safe, she says. It is safe. But you will feel that air the whole trip from the iv entry to your heart.

anyway. So i go to the hospital at eight in the morning and the nurse sticks goopy stickers on my foot and ankle and puts a device on my leg that shoots an electric current through my nerve to see how it responds. It responds! Rejoice. Then the doctor comes in and he tells me he will be putting a needle in three of my leg muscles and i explain about the needle issue and he tells me it is like an acupuncture needle — and i’ve had those once weirdly coincidentally hooked up to a minor electric pulse in physiotherapy years ago. So he sticks my leg and makes me flex my muscle and i learn you can hear your muscles working. Tap tap tap taptaptaptap. My muscles are fine, my nerves are fine. The forgetting my legs problem is not a problem with my legs.

The doctor did tell me when he asked if i had any other medical issues aside from stroke, that having chronic migraines increases your stroke risk. I was diagnosed with chronic migraines about eight years ago—no one has ever informed me of this. But he also has chronic migraines and also let me know i probably shouldn’t do hormones cause, again, increases stroke risk.

a lot of information for pre-nine am.