#i forgot just how bad my pain flares can get

[scierwnik]

Dude this sucks

[janeyseymour]

Hii hope ur doing well x If ur still accepting requests for Mel x Reader could u do one where reader has some type of disability like chronic pain and they have a flare at school (cause they both work there) and Mel immediately runs to action and there's like Loooots of comfort etc hehe :3

I hope this is what you're looking for!

Too Late Now

WC:~4.3k

You usually have this under control. Since your fourth concussion, you’ve dealt with the headaches and the occasional migraines easily. Doctors have been helping you and make sure that you always have your emergency migraine medication at the ready.

On top of that, it’s been seven years that you’ve been living with this. You know the when a headache or a migraine is coming for the most part. You didn’t even bother writing down on your forms when you got hired that you should technically have accommodations due to your chronic migraines. You just know how to handle them at this point. It’s part of your everyday life. 

Melissa, your girlfriend, doesn’t even know about your condition. She doesn’t need to know. You saw the way she sprung into action when you had the flu a few months ago- or when you had caught the stomach bug from the kids. After taking care of you with absolutely no complaints, she got sick both times herself. You took care of her too, much to her dismay. She was a caretaker, she did not like to be the one being taken care of.

When you wake up, you feel a little funny. But something is going around the school, as it always is around this time of year. So you chalk it up to that, and you take an Advil and an allergy pill. 

When you’re leaving, you almost have half a mind to throw in your migraine medication just in case… but you get distracted by a text from Melissa asking if you wanted coffee this morning from Dunkin.

Of course I do, you reply back.

Your usual?

Please, and thank you.

Sounds good. I’ll see you at school gorgeous.

And because of that text exchange, you forget to throw your pills in your purse and leave the house. 

As you’re driving, your headache worsens just slightly, and you groan. Allergy season was bad at this time of year, and your sinuses have been paying for it- post nasal drip is at an all time high, you’ve already had an ear infection this season, and you’ve been getting sinus headaches because of it. You don’t realize a migraine is coming on yet, so you just pop another Advil before you head into Abbott.

Your girlfriend is waiting for you in the teacher’s lounge like usual, and she almost immediately sees how unwell you’re feeling.

“Hey, baby,” she says softly as she kicks out the seat next to her.

“Hey,” you sigh, but you don’t take a seat. You just lean down and peck her lips before standing back up straight with a grimace.

She hands you your coffee with a frown. “You feelin’ okay, hon?”

“Allergies,” you say through a yawn. “I think I’m gonna go sit in my classroom this morning, but you enjoy your news.”

“Alright, hon. Do you want me to come with you?”

“I know how much you like your news,” you tell her. “I’ll be okay.” You head to your classroom, and she watches you in concern.

By the time the kids are supposed to come in, you know exactly what’s happening- a migraine is coming on. And you, like an absolute lovesick idiot, forgot your medication because you were too busy texting your sweet girlfriend. Your head is in your hands as you massage at your temples, the lights are off, the sound of the barely functioning air conditioning is making your eyes throb in pain. 

Hypothetically, you could call out now. But there’s a shortage in substitutes, you don’t think you can even think properly to create sub plans, the thought of moving from your desk makes you want to cry, and you know it’s only a short amount of time until you’re unable to drive for the next… eleven hours. You probably wouldn’t even be able to make it the drive home.

You have no idea how you’re going to survive today without your medication.

When the kids start to make their way in, you nearly burst into tears. You silently thank God that you didn’t put any makeup on today. You throw your sunglasses on as they trickle in, and you stay seated at your desk. 

You can’t teach today, and you know this. It’s going to be a day where the kids sit quietly and watch magic school bus, you take them out for extra recess, and then they can sit and work on their projects, or read and draw. You don’t care what happens today, as long as they aren’t loud. 

Again, your kids think that they have a sub until they see you sitting at your desk in the dark.

“Ms. Y/N?” one of the girls comes in and runs up to your desk.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you say softly, and even the eight year old can see the pain etched in your face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Skylar,” you tell her quietly. “Ms. Y/N’s head just hurts, so today is mostly going to be an independent and quiet work day. Unpack and get ready for today, love bug.”

The little girl gives you a gentle hug before going to her desk and unpacking. You keep your eyes closed as the rest of them trickle in, and they’re oddly quiet. They are never this quiet. You almost always have to remind them to do their handwriting pages and do their lunch count.

When you do open your eyes to take attendance and explain to them what’s happening today, you see that Skylar had quietly taken it upon herself to write the morning routine on the board.

Morning! The note on the board reads. Ms. Y/N’s head hurts, so come in quietly. Unpack, lunch count, the next page in journal, then DEAR. 

Your heart melts, and you realize how lucky you are that your students genuinely care about you the way that they do. Skylar is over by the lunch count board writing a tally for you, and she quietly comes and slips it over to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you whisper to her, and you have a small tear trail down your cheek. “Do you want me to take it to Ms. Schemmenti to put in, or should I take it down to the office?”

“I can put it in, honey,” you give her a gentle squeeze before opening your laptop. You wince immediately due to the light, but you can handle this. You can’t have her go down to Melissa’s- your girlfriend would flip her lid when she found out how under the weather you were feeling and you didn’t stay home or ask for her help. 

All of your students watch you silently. They’ve never seen you this drained. Sure, they’ve seen you sick; you rarely call out. They’ve seen you tired after a night of volunteering or staying up late to finish grading papers and preparing for them. But they have never, ever seen you this down- to the point that your skin is pale and you can’t take off your sunglasses because your head hurts so bad.

“Miss Y/N?” one of the boys raises his hand quietly, and he’s usually known for giving you a hard time.

“Yes, Cameron?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You just barely nod and take a shaky breath. “Here’s what we’re going to do today,” you tell them. “We’re going to do our independent work for each of our subjects today- I know we have projects and papers in all of the subjects except math. For math, I’ll have… somebody… take you outside for extra recess, and if you’re good and quiet today, I’ll put on Magic School Bus at the end of the day for dismissal. Deal?”

All of your kids nod, and you give them half a smile. Then you get a shooting pain right behind your left temple, and you quietly cry out in pain. You grip the table for a few seconds and take a deep breath before you open your eyes again. They all look absolutely terrified.

“Nobody tells Ms. Schemmenti,” you tell them as you point at them all.

They all raise their hands in surrender.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, shakily. “Who is going to lead our morning meeting?” It’s Rayna.

When that’s over, the kids quietly pull out their social studies projects and start to work on them. When social studies is over, they quietly move on to their independent reading for fifteen minutes. And then they line themselves up silently for specials.

“Can I trust you all to walk yourselves down to the gym silently?” As you write a note to the gym teacher explaining that they are coming on their own and to just send them back down to your room when gym is over.

“I take my line leader duty very seriously, Ms. Y/N,” Jayden tells you seriously. “If we aren’t quiet, I’ll tell you.” You nod, hand him the note with the instruction to give it to the PE teacher, and they’re off.

You get approximately forty-five minutes of peace and absolute silence. You close the door, grab your coat and throw it over your head, and lay down on the back table. You’re small enough to fit if you curl up.

On your kids’ way back to the classroom, they just happen to see your girlfriend in the hallway on her way out of the teachers’ lounge.

“Where’s Ms. Y/N?” the redhead asks with a popped eyebrow. You always walk with your children everywhere.

All of the kids look at each other nervously, remembering the way you told them that they weren’t to tell the second grade teacher. But Melissa is staring them down.

“She called the gym teacher and told him to just let us walk down by ourselves because she had to use the bathroom,” Jayden tells a fib, and he hates doing it to his former teacher. But he promised you.

Melissa furrows her brows, but Jayden’s always been a good kid. “Okay… Well, tell Miss Y/N to put up another class compliment star because you’re all walking through the hallway very nicely.”

The line leader nods and takes off in the direction of your classroom, while Melissa heads towards the office to make copies.

You’ve just barely managed to get yourself back to your desk when the kids come back in, but your migraine is starting to make you nauseous, and you don’t even know what to do anymore. You won’t even be able to drive yourself home, so you just have to wait this out- at least you should get paid for it.

“We saw Ms. Schemmenti in the hall,” Omari tells you quietly while everyone else is getting out their snacks. “She said to give us a class compliment star because we were walking so nicely.”

“Nobody said anything, did they?” you ask.

“Jayden told her you were in the bathroom and told the gym teacher to just let us walk down,” your student says. “I don’t think he liked having to lie to her though… and Ms. Schemmenti didn’t really look like she believed him.”

As if on cue, the second grade teacher is knocking softly on your doorframe. She looks so concerned for you. “Ms. Y/N?”

You thank God you weren’t facing the door and have half a mind to rip off your sunglasses before standing and meeting her on the other side of the room. “Class, eat your snacks while I talk to Ms. Schemmenti in the hallway.”

“Amore,” Melissa whispers softly as she gets a look at you. “You look terrible. Why don’t you go home? I can split your class between the other third grade class and mine- not like I haven’t juggled two grades at one time before.”

“I- I can’t go home,” you mumble, and you wince at the florescent lights that aren’t out for once.

“And why’s that?”

You bite your lip. You have to admit to her just how terrible you’re feeling. She’s going to flip out and become insanely protective. She’s going to be upset you didn’t tell her about your condition before. “I get chronic migraines sometimes, and I… I have one right now.”

“Oh, hon,” Melissa whispers sympathetically.

“I usually have meds for it to lessen the pain, but I left it at my house this morning, and I think if I tried to drive home, I would throw up or black out,” you tell her honestly. “The kids have been really great this morning though, and they understand.”

“How can I help?”

“During my math period, can you take them outside? They deserve extra recess today,” you practically whimper as you close your eyes and brace yourself for the shooting pain you can feel getting ready to come on.

“Why don’t I just split the kids for the rest of the day while you lay down?” your girlfriend suggests.

“I’m here, they’re behaving and quiet, and I need to get paid,” you tell her. “They’re okay with me for everything except math.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” the redhead sighs. “But you just call if you need me, you hear?”

“I know,” you say softly. “I’ll be-” You cut yourself off with a whine and grab her arm as the pain comes. When it’s over, you relax and finish, “-fine.”

Your girlfriend shakes her head with a deep breath before stepping into your classroom. Jayden looks terrified.

“Ms. Schemmenti, I didn’t mean to lie to you,” he says quickly. “I didn’t want to, but I-”

“It’s okay, buddy,” she says softly before looking to the rest of the class. “You be on your best behavior for Ms. Y/N, and if anything happens, you come down to my room. I’ll be over during your math time for extra recess if you continue having a great day. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” your students reply, and you walk slowly into your room before putting your glasses back on and putting your head in your hands. Melissa gives you a gentle pat on the back before squeezing your shoulder three times.

Your kids finish their snack, and when that’s over they work on their research project for writing. They line themselves up silently for lunch and walk themselves down. You take up your position on your back table again, and close your eyes. You beg God to make the pain stop, and you finally give in, crying.

What you don’t know is that your sweet, sweet girlfriend is on her way to your apartment to grab your medicine. She also grabs a gatorade and your favorite hoodie (that is actually hers). She stops at Wawa and grabs you a Tasty Cake before returning to the school.

When she gets to your classroom, her heart breaks. She can see the way that you’re shaking from underneath your coat, and she has no doubt that you’re crying.

“Oh hon,” she mumbles as she makes her way over to you. She lays a delicate hand on your back and rubs up and down soothingly. “I brought your medicine, your favorite hoodie, and a Tasty Cake from Wawa. Can you take the medicine for me?”

Her kindness and gentleness just makes you cry even harder- and that only makes your head hurt worse.

Your alarm on your watch starts to go off, and you whine. “I don’t think I can do my recess duty today.”

“I’ll get the music teacher to cover it- she’ll do anything to get some of my meatballs,” your girlfriend tells you. “You just take your meds, and hopefully they kick in.”

You nod, just barely manage to sit up and take the medication and you take the hoodie and ball it up and put it under your head. 

After she calls the music teacher and arranges your coverage, she asks, “Jeet today?”

“No,” you mumble.

“Can you try to eat the cupcakes I brought?” At your nod, she opens it for you and practically feeds it to you.

“Did you eat?” you ask your girlfriend.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” she dismisses your concern. “I’ll get my lunch in eventually- just might be while the kids are running around on the playground for math.”

Once you’ve had one of the cupcakes, you groan. “I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

“Okay, hon,” Melissa frowns. “You know your body.”

“My body wants to sleep.”

“Well, you have another thirty minutes of recess, and you know I’ll always take your kids for you,” your girlfriend reminds you.

You nod and close your eyes. “Set my alarm for the end of recess? And if you wouldn’t mind just sending my kids here from outside for me?”

She presses a delicate kiss to the side of your head, but she doesn’t set your alarm. She fully intends to let you sleep the rest of the school day, and she’ll take your kids for you- all twenty three of them. She can handle it.

It’s not like Ava is here to tell you you can’t get paid for today. And in reality, Ava wouldn’t care anyway.

Your perfect, wonderful girlfriend picks your kids up from recess, and she has no idea how she manages this, but every single child is able to grab their belongings without waking you up. They were even able to silently move their chairs.

When you wake back up, your head is still pounding. It’s starting to ease up though. You glance at your watch from underneath your coat.

4:12 is staring back at you. School has been over for an hour…

You take your coat off of your head to see a classroom without chairs and Melissa perched on the closest desk to you, glasses on the tip of her nose and reading something on her phone.

“There’s my gorgeous girl,” she says quietly as she puts her phone away. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mel, why didn’t you wake me?”

“You needed rest. Your kids’ chairs are in my room, and I told them to just come get them tomorrow.”

“I slept at school for almost four hours.”

“And how are you feeling now?” she prompts again.

“The prescription is starting to kick in,” you mumble. “But because I didn’t take it during the onset, I mostly just have to ride it out.”

“How long do your migraines usually last?”

“Hopefully, I only have another three hours of this hell,” you tell her.

“And are you feeling okay to go home?”

“I’m shocked Mr. J hasn’t come in here to kick us out,” you grumble.

Melissa flashes you that devious Schemmenti smile. “He did. But I told him… in a non-threatening way… that we would be staying here until you woke up on your own, and I would lock up the school.” She twirls the keys around her finger. “Now, do you need to stay here to ride it out, or…?”

“I really don’t know if I can drive to my apartment yet,” you admit sheepishly. “I’m still kind of nauseous.”

“Can I take you back home, then?” your girlfriend asks you softly as she fixes your wild locks.

You nod with a groan as you sit up. You go to grab your bags, but Melissa already has them next to her and both of your things are slung over her shoulders in a second. 

“You just worry about getting your pretty little self into the car, yeah?” She presses a gentle kiss to your temple, and you know it’s all in your head, but her kiss makes you feel even the slightest bit better.

She piles your things in her car as you slowly get in and close your eyes. She gets in not a few seconds later, closing the door as quietly as she can. As the two of you are pulling out of the parking lot, you feel her warm hand settle on your thigh, and she squeezes it gently. It shouldn’t affect you the way it does- especially given how you’re feeling right now.

When she pulls in, she tells you gently to head in and up to bed. She’ll handle all of your things, she’ll be right in to curl up with you and/or nurse you back to health.

“I just have to ride it out, honey,” you remind her.

“Well, we’ll curl up together then,” she tells you. “And when you’re feeling up to it, I’ll make us something for dinner.”

“I love you,” you sigh softly as you drag yourself out of the car. You get yourself into the house and are just laying down in bed as she comes in. She changes, lays down next to you, and pulls you into her arms gently.

“Hon, I can sleep on my own,” you mumble into her chest. “I know you have a shit ton to grade.”

“I can do that tomorrow during my prep,” she whispers. “Right now, my girlfriend needs some love and attention.”

Because of her warmth and the delicate fingers that are tracing patterns on your arms, you fall asleep easily. And when you wake up, she’s still laying with you, and she’s half asleep herself. You wake up to a mouthful of red hair, and you sigh in content. Your head is no longer pounding- you think your migraine is gone. 

“How’re you feeling?” your girlfriend asks you softly, eyes still closed.

“So much better,” you tell her truthfully. “You didn’t have to stay. You could’ve had dinner or graded stuff while I slept.”

“And what kinda girlfriend would that make me, hon?” Melissa retorts. “But I’m glad you’re feeling better. You ready to eat a real meal?”

“Yeah,” you sigh softly. “After a few more minutes of cuddles?”

“I can’t say no to that.”

After a few more minutes, and a rather loud grumble of both of your stomachs, you head into the kitchen hand in hand. She starts making dinner while you go over to one of her bags and start grading the math tests she gave to her class yesterday.

“You don’t have to do that,” she tells you as she stirs the pot.

“I have to make it up to you somehow,” you say as you mark a few questions wrong.

“You can make it up to me by tellin’ me why I never knew you got migraines… and frequently enough to have the good shit prescribed to you,” the redhead says as she turns to look at you pointedly.

You frown and keep your eyes trained on the papers in front of you as you shrug.

“Y/N,” she says sternly. “C’mon.”

“Nobody really knows,” you mumble before you clear your throat. You suppose you have to be honest with your girlfriend. “After my fourth concussion seven years ago… it’s just something I got used to dealing with. I usually have them under control and can just push through them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, hon?” she asks softly. “Or at least told me this morning when we were in the staff room?”

“I thought I was fine,” you tell her honestly. “It didn’t hit me until after I had already walked into my room, and at that point… it was too late, and I didn’t want you fussing over me for something I could’ve prevented.”

“Hey,” Melissa turns the burner down to let her sauce simmer. “I always worry about you- whether you’re sick or not. But when I saw you this morning, I knew something was wrong. You shoulda told me. I would’ve driven to your place to get your medicine sooner.”

“I was just going to tough it out,” you sigh.

“You were going to pass the hell out in pain,” she tells you. “Your kids were really worried about you.”

“I know they were… They were so sweet today and made sure they were on their best behavior for me,” you say softly. “I wish I would’ve gotten a picture of the morning message Sky put up on the board for the rest of the class.”

“They were just as well behaved for me,” the second grade teacher tells you honestly. “Although that may be because I promised them all doughnuts if they were good.”

“So… we have to leave early to pick up doughnuts for the kids?” you laugh. At her nod, you shake your head playfully. “I’m buying.”

“With whose card?” she snorts out.

“Mine, thank you very much,” you tease back.

With your banter, Melissa knows you’re feeling much better and are on your way to feeling 100 percent again soon. 

After dinner, the two of you go back to lay in bed. 

“Put a few of your pills in a plastic baggie for me to keep in my car for you tomorrow,” Melissa tells you as she pulls you into her arms again.

“Babe, I usually have them on me,” you tell her. “This was a one time thing.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain though,” she mumbles against your head, kissing it gently. “And if I can help prevent you from crying out in pain at a small noise, I will.”

“Okay, honey.”

The next morning, the two of you show up to school with dozens of doughnuts for the kids, and yours and Melissa’s classes enjoy the treats together. They’re all thrilled to be rewarded with the sweet treat. They’re happy that they can talk in their own classroom again. They’re glad to see that you’re back to yourself.

“Ms. Y/N?” Skylar asks as she gives you a hug that morning.

“What is it, sweet girl?”

“Can you like, not get sick like that again? I’m happy we got doughnuts, but I don’t wanna have to play teacher again for you… It was hard.”

You chuckle as you muss her hair. “I’ll do my best kiddo.”

Melissa just nudges you with a smirk. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she assures your student. 

[awriternamedart]

a collection of my middle aged man yaoi sampard headcanons -

Sampo has poliosis, a condition that can cause premature greying in areas on the scalp.

Gepard has lots of facial and body hair but it grows slowly because of their cold enviroment. His beard is a stopwatch for how long hes been on the frontlines that time around as he only gets to shave when hes at his home/stationed in the city.

Sampo has a few beauty marks n moles ! mostly on his back and shoulders.

Gepard has freckles! All the Landaus do!

Once Gepard scared the ever living shit out of Sampo because the Landaus have reflective eyes. So Sampo just saw two blue dots in his bedroom once and nearly fell out the window he climbed in through.

Gepard has piercings! Two simple lobe piercings, he only wears them when hes on break. (so like, never.) Serval pierced them for him when they were teenagers so its a little botched but he does his best to take care of them because their a fond memory of his sister. (He also owns a pair of studs for each of his sisters - a snowflake set for Lynx, and a music note set for Serval. Otherwise, simple black studs.)

Sampo has sideburns!! He tends to keep them trimmed well , since his appearence is a huge part of the show. Hes incredibly meticulous down to the last detail in order to sell it, and can spend up to two hours every morning making sure hes ready for the stage .

Gepard is an amputee. I need to update my arm lore doc but basic gist - his gauntlet is a prosthetic used to trap Fragmentum in his arm nub and uses that Fragmentum as a powersource for the Geomarrow to bounce off of and create the ice and mist he uses in battle. He still deals with phantom pain but most of the time it is soothed with his prosthetic - though it can still flare up horribly when overused.

Sampos really weak to being kissed on the nape of his neck, right where his hair is. Hes not quite sure why.

Gepards easy to blush but inCREDIBLY hard to fluster. Hes so used to keeping himself in check and in control that to catch him in any form of stupor is rare.

Related - Gepard struggles immensely when hes out of control of a situation and someone he is unfamiliar with or doesnt trust holds power over it. Hes so used to being in charge and being looked to and only having those he trusts as peers or over him in the power system that being thrown into that situation crawls under his skin in a /neg way. Physical vulnerabilty is also not easy and very stressful.

Quite the opposite for Sampo - emotional vulnerabilty ties this guy in KNOTS. Hes pretty open to touch (once your on his trust list and ONLY if your on the trust list) but youll have to drag him kicking and screaming if you want a glimpse at his actual thoughts.

also Sampo has a wheezy hyena laugh.

Gepard only has only one or two potted plants he tried to use as motivation to go home more often- it was a suggestion from Pela. But uh, yeah it didnt work. Hes a great cook though!

On the other hand- do not let Sampo within 5 meters of a kitchen. For your sake and his. (hes not that bad and can make enough to get by- but it really .. does not taste great ...)

Sampos not entirely sure how old he is, but Natasha figured he was somewhere in his late twenties early thirties when he arrived on Jarilo and hes kinda been rolling with that ever since.

Gepard overheats really easily when he gets off planet eventually. Like it is bad how easily he gets heatstroke.

Sampo uses his blades to pick at his teeth sometimes. Both Natasha and Gepard hate this .

Gepard has a nasty resting bitch face. Hes learned to be able to nullify it a little bit but when hes tired it drops back to usual and makes it look likes constantly about to murder someone.

On the plus side, this control over his expression means he plays a nasty game of poker! (or whatever the Jarilo 6 counterpart of poker is)

Sampo has on more then one occassion forgot that he has the ability to neutralize most of Belobogs cold and has wandered outside without his jacket. Many people looked at him like he was insane.

Gepard always cuts the sleeve right above his gauntlet implant and sews a new hem to keep it from getting caught in machinery.

Hook called Sampo Gramps once. He never recovered.

Gepards hair is slowly turning brown instead of greying! Sampo is infact, salty about this.

Gepard has three majorly noticable scars. He has frostburn on his flesh hand that wind up his arm, he has Fragmentum cracks that wind up his opposite shoulder (amputated arm)(inactive so it looks like scar tissue or a lightning scar rather then black or gold) , and an impact scar/explosion scar across his lower back. Other minor scars are shrapnel cuts and his knuckles being scarred from being a fistfighter. Also his nose is slightly crooked.

Sampo has done a damn good job at making sure he looks the part of the shifty businessman but he has a few marks of his own. Being an Emanator means he heals quickly- and can mask any scars and injuries he gets with relative ease - but he prefers to not rely on this aspect. His biggest scar is an ugly blade cut into his right shoulderblade, and its only so prominant because it struggled to heal properly.

Sampo is shorter the Natasha! Natasha is just tall !! She is shorter then Gepard who is the tallest among the Belobog cast but shes second.

In order of tallest to shortest of Belobog adults its - Gepard, Natasha, Sampo, Serval, Luka, Bronya, Seele. Sorry Seele.

The Landau eye color and color crest is so recognizable in Belobog that that shade of blue is called Landau Blue.

When Sampo has a difficult time sleeping, he wordlessly buries his face into Gepards neck, who simply begins to hum if hes also awake.

Gepard is a light sleeper- he wakes up very easily. Sampo is not. Gepard has had to fight an extremely sleepy Sampo to get up in the morning more times then he can count.

Gepard actually does have a good singing voice, its just that he has poor discipline and tries to match Servals octave. Which is. Way to high. He also has good rhythm!

This does not mean he is a good dancer.

He can get through on dancing, it being part of his upbringing and studies growing up, but he can only do what steps he knows. Any improv and he falters.

Sampo has in fact trust falled on Gepard multiple times. Once at Bronya and Seeles wedding. He basically forced Gepard to dip him.

Gepard is actually incredibly sassy. Its just that hes awful at inflection and everything comes across as matter-of-fact or dry as fuck. That, and he only dares to sass Serval most of the time- theres not many other people hes comfortable enough with to let loose that much.

When it comes to fishing out back alley deals, few are more knowledgable than Sampo. Even before the Trailblazers, Sampo and Gepard had an under the table deal where if Gepard was unable to crack a case alone, he could get information off Sampo in exchange for supplies and shield. He was not happy about this deal but he deemed it a necessity- for the sake of Belobogs safety.

Sampo would and still does anonymously tip the Guards off on major crimes that could severely impact Belobogs already fragile economy. Hes no saint , but he has his personal morals and he sticks to them.

Gepard had many sharp teef , lil fangies even ! but theyve been worn down over time.

Sampo also has lil sharp teef ! his are more snake fang like tho, thinner.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Squish

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Things may be better, but Roman still struggles occaisonally. Remus is happy to help him out.

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| Ao3 |

Written for: This Prompt

Warnings: Some self dep, mainly Roman thinking badly about himself again. overstimulation. vague reference to past self harm.

Pairings: Creativitwins, Roceit

Word Count: 1481

Notes:

Hello!!

Darkside Roman fic!

Thank you to Oatmeal for the prompt here on my Tumblr (feel free to leave a request yourself!), I did write this on my train ride - I just forgot to post it yesterday, haha.

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Roman stood before his mirror. The floor length one, in his room, with ornate golden carvings around the frame. The mirror itself looked like something that belonged in a king’s chamber in a palace, not Roman’s bedroom. His room may be ornate, his red canopy bed was beautiful, with a carved wooden headboard and translucent red drapes. His desk was mahogany, also elegantly carved and looked like something straight out of a vicotorian drawing room, his plush red rug created a nice centrepiece to his room and his closet was full to bursting with clothes he would probably never actually get to wear, bis room was ornate, but it wasn’t fit for him.

A beautiful, elegant room, fit for a prince. Roman didn’t feel like he belonged there.

His tail had been the last thing to come through, he was pretty sure, and now it swayed behind him, brushing over the ground repeatedly in a way that irritated him to no end. He thought he should be used to it by now, after his week spent in the imagination. Which he didn’t remember most of, but Janus had reassured him that nothing bad had happened, he hadn’t hurt anyone – he, apparently, had actually been kind of cute. And he’d somehow gotten Virgil to join them for movie nights, too, he wondered how exactly he’d done that with his dragon brain.

Dark wings spread behind him, the bloody red of the scaley skin making him cringe away from his own reflection. Red was his colour, the colour of passion and love, romance. Red was also the colour of anger, of fire burning brightly, hurt, pain, distruction. When he was a Prince, the red meant love, a bright spirit, now…

His wings twitch and Roman reaches around himself to – what, try to get them off? He’d already tried that more than enough and all it did was hurt, there was no point, he was stuck like this now. His tail started to thrash behind him without his permission, he hated how out of control it was, he couldn’t stand how it moved when he was irritated or upset – it made it practically impossible to hide what he was feeling and the way it dragged against the hardrood floor of his room made him want to scream-

“Roro!?” His bedroom door slammed open, making his wings flare out in surprise. He whipped around to face his brother in the doorway, forgetting once more about his tail and only remembering when it slammed into the mirror, sending it crashing to the floor in shards. The golden carved frame was ruined, the mirror itself now only showing a fragmented reflection. Roman stared at it in shock, wondering if this reflection was more accurate.

“Oooh- that’s not good,” Remus said, “Sorry Ro – did I scare ya?”

“No- no, it’s- it’s fine I was just…” Roman trailed off, looking back at the mirror, “Focused.” He settles on.

“What? On admiring yourself?” Remus giggled, coming over, “Janny wanted me to come get you, you’re missing dinner.”

“I am?” Roman asked, looking at his twin with a frown, he thought dinner was still a few hours away.

“What’s going on in that silly head of yours, Ro?” Remus knocked on his skull like it was a door, and Roman winced away, batting halfheartedly at his hands, he hadn’t noticed Remus come over, “Oh c’mon, I can basically see your thoughts crowding up in there.”

“Just- leave it, it doesn’t matter,” Roman tried to wave him off, “I’ll be down for dinner soon.”

“Oh no, nope, absolutely not,” Remus said, shaking Roman lightly by the shoulder, “You only say crap like that when something’s really wrong, now what’s got my lil’ bro so upset?”

“Remus-“ Roman huffed, he was going for a warning tone, trying to get his brother to back off, though he was pretty sure it sounded a lot more pathetic than he was intending, “Just-“

“Nope, get, now, sit down, go on,” Remus practically shoved him back towards his bed and Roman’s tail curled around his feet as he was pushed to sit down as he continued to weakly protest. Once he was down, Romus practically threw himself on top of him, putting all of his weight on him. Roman hated to admit that it did help, even if he had to shuffle around so he wasn’t squashing his wings.

“There, better?” Remus asked, already knowing that ‘being squished’ as Remus called it, tended to help quite a lot, Roman nodded weakly, “Now, what’s the shit bothering you?”

“My stupid- stupid brain,” He huffed, looking up at the canopy of his bed, “I feel like- like all this stuff – it’s not -it’s not mine – it’s like I don’t- I don’t feel like I- I deserve it-“

“Deserve it?” Remus says, “Why the fuck wouldn’t you deserve it?”

“I don’t – because, because I’m hideous – because all I do is cause pain? I just- I hurt Patton and Logan, I hurt Virgil – I definitely hurt you, and I probably hurt Jan and I just-“

Repetitive, insistent tapping on his cheek drew him back out of the spiral he was descending into, Remus was frowning at him.

“Tell your brain to fuck off, Ro,” Remus said, bapping him on the forehead, “You’re cool as fuck, you haven’t hurt Janny or Virgin, you haven’t hurt the others nearly as much as they fucked you up, and yeah, being isolated from you hurt like a fucking soap bath but that wasn’t your fault-“

“I know that but – but this-“ he pulls at one of his wings again and Remus slaps his hand away.

“Is really fucking cool,” he finishes Roman’s sentence, “Literally, you can fly – and you can set shit on fire, how is that not cool as fuck?”

“And I’ve told you that- that doesn’t matter – it’s – it’s – dragons are evil,” Roman said, dragging his hand over his face, his claws leaving the lightest marks on his own skin, “They’re meant to hurt people destroy things, hoard gold, I don’t want to be a greedy, prideful, nasty creature.”

“Yeah, and we’ve told you every time you say this that you’re not any of that shit,” Remus said, pulling Roman’s hand away from his face so he doesn’t hurt himself any more. Roman whined, before coughing smoke right into Remus’ face and immediately panicking.

“Mm!” Remus said, “Thanks Roro,”

“What?”

“The smoke?”

“Yeah uh – why are you thanking me?”

“Cause’ it smells good?” Remus tilted his head, “Like free perfume.”

Roman can’t help the snort of laughter that escaped him. He should’ve known that Remus would enjoy smelling of smoke. Of course, something like that wouldm’t have upset him, he was Remus for goodness sake.

“Y’know Janny would say something poetic about how dragons were strong and awesome again if he heard this, right?” Remus poked him in the side and Roman batted his hands away again.

“Yeah yeah – I know – it’s getting better though, I swear.”

Remus hummed, flopping down properly on top of him, “These spirals not happening so often?” He asked.

“No – it’s just – sometimes it all starts to bother me – it’s like –“

“You’re feeling loads of things all at once and you feel like you’re whole body is gonna explode?” Remus suggests, “Like there are ants crawling all over your skin and you can’t get ‘em off?”

“Yeah- um- something like that,” Roman nodded.

“Is the squishing helping?” Remus asked.

Roman took a long, deep breath, “Yeah, thanks.”

“Awesome ‘cause if it didn’t I’d have to crush up all your bones.”

“…Thanks, Ree,” Roman shook his head with a fond smile.

“You feeling good enough for dinner?” Remus asked, “’Cause I think Janny’s made pie, and he’s gonna get worried ‘cause we’ve been gone so long.”

“I… I think so,” Roman nodded. Shoving Remus away so he could get up. He waved away the mess from the mirror and now that spot felt far too empty, but he wouldn’t let it bother him right now. His tail still dragged over the hardwood floor, but it didn’t bother him so much now. Remus grabbed him by the arm and dragged him downstairs.

“Sorry we’re late!” Remus yelled as they arrived in the dining room, “Roro was having a crisis again.”

“Is everything alright?” Janus looked up with concern clear in his expression. Roman smiled.

“Yeah – it is now,” he said, taking his seat.

“Mhm, I helped,” Remus said proudly. Janus chuckled.

“Thank you, Remus, I presume you did an awful job?”

“As always,” Remus nodded with a grin. Roman couldn’t help but smile as he settled into their company, finally able to relax now that they were both here.

When Roman returned to his room later that night, he found a new mirror in the old one’s place, this one was just as ornate, but made out of black marble.

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[icepixie]

I love it when medical types treat the chart--or even the guidelines from some professional organization--instead of the person sitting in front of them.

My gyn retired this year, so I got assigned to a new one. Who promptly took me off the low-dose birth control I've been on for almost 10 years post-hysterectomy to control the bits of endometriosis still littering my abdomen. This is because I'm 40 and have (controlled!) high blood pressure. Apparently. Probably the "migraine" diagnosis that's going to follow me around forever despite not being true, never having been true, the problem was an infected tooth that presented weirdly doesn't help.

I get the existence of the guidelines (albeit they were devised before low-dose estrogen pills, which seem to have way fewer risks, but whatever). I do not get the unilateral application to me despite my earlier gyn's prescribing them, the decade of history that I do well on them, and that knowledge that progestin-only pills, which were the only other alternative offered, were a complete disaster.

(I took them in an effort to not get labeled uncooperative, but I've had them twice before and each time it not only didn't reduce pain, it made it happen twice as often.)*

The constant repetition of "But a hysterectomy always cures endometriosis!" was obnoxious too, because NO THE FUCK IT DOESN'T, READ SOME PAPERS, and it definitely didn't for me. Is that week of the month better without That Uterus Bitch and The Evil Ovary? Sure. Doesn't mean it's pain free. Also, a delay in filling my bc prescription earlier this year made my arthritis flare, so that may or may not now be a monthly (or every-two-weekly, on the minipill) thing. I wonder how the low-dose combined pill compares to a week of steroids every month for...every health measure out there? Favorably, I'd imagine. Maybe I can get my rheumatologist to weigh in on this.

Anyway, I'm obviously never going back to this person, but I'm not looking forward to auditioning gyns until I find someone who can do more complex risk/benefit assessment than "guidelines say bad." I guess I'll give the minipill a month to "work," because you gotta put up a facade of pretending you don't know more about this extremely specific issue than the doc. I'm debating whether to actually take it or just say I did, since, you know, it makes things worse than doing nothing.

Tangentially, if we could have these doctor-patient talks BEFORE I have to take all of my clothes off and sit there holding a gaping gown closed, that would be awesome.

I'm just so tired of things in my body breaking. (Or, in this case, not breaking, just having the tool that keeps it from breaking taken away.) Also, I can't help wondering how godawful menopause "treatment" is going to be, whenever that happens.

* Almost forgot, Lupron was mentioned as an alternative, and FUCK, no. My last boss was a gyn and when it was being bandied about for my endo before the hysterectomy she told me point blank to never go on it. Brain damage is a side effect I'd like to avoid, thanks.

[darkshrimpemotions]

I truly cannot overstate how much it changed my life to learn that "cleaning," tidying," decluttering," and "organizing" are four completely separate tasks that cannot be done effectively at the same time. Or that if you do want to do them all, there's an order that generally works best. And also that "spotless" is sometimes less useful a goal than "functional."

I used to struggle SO MUCH with keeping my space neat and clean. This massive task would just loom in front of me and my off-kilter little brain would say Nope! Not today. So it would get bigger and bigger and more insurmountable until finally I would have a breakdown about it. And then I would spend hours or days trying to declutter, organize, tidy, and clean all at the same time until I was exhausted and could feel myself heading into a migraine or an R.A flare-up, or both. And it never felt like I really got fully done.

But just now I looked at my living room, which was a disaster area after a week of frantic Halloween costume making activity, and sighed, and tidied that plus my kitchen in less than half an hour. And I still had the energy to go get the mail, go fetch the dish I forgot at the party last night, ckean out my fridge, take out the trash, AND make myself food! And I'm not on the verge of a breakdown or flaring or fighting off a migraine! All because I didn't turn one task into four, because someone FINALLY taught me HOW to keep house instead of just insisting I do it or else I'm disgusting and irresponsible.

Anyway this is like a daily revelation for me, that I CAN keep my house a functional and healthy space for me, even as someone dealing with brain issues, chronic pain, allergies, and at times limited mobility. And that when I can't, it doesn't make me a bad person or disgusting. If you're struggling with any of this, I highly recommend looking into KC Davis's Struggle Care. She's on tiktok as domesticblisters and on instagram as strugglecare. She also has a podcast called Struggle Care, and between the three of these platforms there are TONS of free resources and judgment-free advice for anyone who has trouble keeping their space functional when they're struggling.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Glad to hear I wasn’t ignored 😭 I always feel a certain degree of guilt when sending in concepts because there’s always a lingering fear of “what if she doesn’t want to talk about this”

but here’s the concept from earlier! ;

My knee has been really acting up these last few days and I’ve been thinking about what Matty would be like if you had some kind of chronic pain.

Like I can just picture him constantly offering to give massages and filling hot water bottle. Constantly researching new methods of pain relief for you to try. He definitely feels really bad and enforces a couch day whenever he can, literally doesn’t let you leave the couch and will do absolutely everything for you

-♥️

Nooo, I would never ever ignore a message!!! And, the only request I’ve ever been uncomfortable writing about or discussing or anything was one where it was Matty relapsing. Just felt like it was crossing a line. Other than that….I’m okay with talking about anything, but if anything else ever comes up that makes me uncomfortable I’d def let you guys know instead of leaving you hanging haha.

BUT YESSSS OMG. He’d be so cute and sweet. Like if you have a bad pain day, he’d been watching you like a hawk all day. Sitting next to you on the couch. Handing you things. Even if they’re like inches away from you. Like the remote control or your glass of water that he’d brought you or whatever. Then, he’d get in the zone, on his laptop. He hasn’t said a word to you in a bit. So, you assume he’s working, but like 2 hours later, he’s like “baby?”

And it startles you. You look at him “what is it, darlin. You’ve been quiet for so long I almost forgot you were here.”

He’s got a serious look on his face. “This won’t cure you completely, but it will help manage your pain. I’ve found this doctor in London who’s a specialist in this kind of treatment. Only 4 people in all of Europe even know how to do it. Want me to make some calls?”

And it melts your heart that he’s constantly thinking about and trying to find new ways of helping your pain and being supportive. Like, he’s always staying up late with you, if you have a bad flare up and can’t sleep cuz he doesn’t want you to be both in pain AND alone. He’s always keeping track of any meds you might need. He’ll be like “with all due respect, my love, do we really think those heels are a good idea? You’ve been in a lot of pain lately, seems risky.”

And you’re like “there’s no ‘we’ here, Matty. I’m the one who has to walk in them.”

“And I’m the one who’s heart shreds every time you wince, so, there absolutely is a ‘we.’”

You just laugh and shake your head.

“When’re you gonna get it through your stubborn head, hmm?” He kisses you. “Your pain is my pain. I’m THAT in love with you, it’s actually pathetic.”

[batstorm93672]

Everyone rushed past him, people blurring together as he stood there. The suit felt more restricting than normal and Damian can't do anything but bear it. So instead Damian went to the balcony where the sound of laughing and talking faded slightly.

The night sky was rather comforting somehow. Yet this feeling is difficult to shake off. He can't get rid of it. He can't ruin his father's evening.

Damian pressed his hand to his chest and gripped the shirt, any moment and he was ready to tear off the buttons.

Damian Wayne, Damian Al Ghul. Get it together. I'm not this weak! I've been through worse so it isn't something new. Deal with it the way you taught

Those thoughts began to wither as Damian found it much more difficult to let oxygen flow into his lungs. His body felt like giving out.

"Damian? What are you doing here?"

Timothy?

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be kissing up to some old ladies or such?"

"Rude, I came here to see you. Thought you might like some company. It seems you are fine though so I'll take my leave" Before Tim could even turn back, Damian grabbed his wrist and looked up pleading with him. "Please... stay. Just for a little" "What's wrong Little D? You don't look so good" Tim seemed to be finding the puzzle pieces of Damian's behavior. Meanwhile Damian was internally fighting with himself, to either let Timothy leave and keep his pride or to tell him to the truth.

"Damian, tell me what's wrong"

The wave of pain washed over him entirely and Damian doubled over with a groan. "Hey! Whoa, what is going on with you? Is there too many people? Did you eat something bad?" "No! Get away from me, I'm fine" "No you are not" Damian swatted at Tim "First you are rude then you basically beg me to stay and now you want me gone?" "Yes. Was that not clear enough for you?" "Okay I'm pushing the bullshit attitude you have to the side. Tell me what you are feeling this instant"

"No! I'm not weak, get away I can handle thi-" His words were lost in fits of coughs. "Da-" "Go. Away! I don't need you. I don't need you to coddle me, I'm fine this pain is nothing just like every other time" "Where are you feeling pain?" "God if I answer will that get you to fucking leave?" "Yeah" "I'm having some chest problems, no big whoop. Now leave me alone" "What type of chest problems?" "None of your business"

Damian scowled as Tim kept looking at him. He's not a puzzle for God's sake why won't he leave as he said he would.

"Oh God"

"What"

Tim put one hand on Damian's shoulder and lowered himself to look at him clearly "How bad is the pain?" "It's nothing!" "Damn it Damian it's not nothing, you might slip into something worse if you don't tell me now"

He figured it out. Damn it, can't this just go away? Why does the pain have to kick in now? Why does Damian have to feel the sword through his chest? Phantom pain is terrifying and he is keeping every bit of his self control to keep it together.

Damian wheezed as he wrapped both hands together over his chest. The pain was unbearable, breaking him all over again. The cold steel driving into his chest and all the way through.

"Can you... me?"

Tim's voice faded in and out. Damian let go of his chest and leaned on Tim who had moved his hands to keep him upright.

"Br..!"

"...go"

"...an ..up"

Everything was blurring together, becoming one giant blob as the throbbing in his chest flared. "AH!"

"It ..ay"

"...together"

The blood filled his mouth, so badly does he wish to spit it out and be done with this pain, he felt so much pain that he forgot it was merely a phantom. Now... this was real.

Damian coughed, blood pouring out of his mouth. "No..! Don't make me do this again. Mother I'll be good for you. I promise I'll do what you say"

"...ay"

"Vita...rising"

"Dam..."

"I'll do what you want, I'll be whatever you need... don't kill me again, that's all I ask"

Then the world faded away.

.

The Wayne event was over, everyone had just left when it began. Bruce heard shouting from the balcony, Tim was shouting for him. He rushed out without a single thought to see his youngest son barely able to catch his breath, leaning on Tim for support as Tim looked scared half to death. "Tim! What's going on?!" "Damian is going through phantom pain, he might pass out" "Alright let's go get him downstairs"

Jason ran in with Dick, obviously having heard the cries of help. "What's going on?" "No time, come here and get Damian up so we can move him" Dick took the burden off of Tim and let Damian lean on him and walked with Damian carefully. "It's okay Dames, we'll get you all better" Jason rubbed Tim's back to get his attention, Tim was looking out of it. "Hey, you got yourself all together?" "Yeah I'll be fine, I just hope he's okay" "You and me both"

Making it to the Batcave and making sure Damian was watched over was going well until he cried.

"No..! Don't make me do this again. Mother I'll be good for you. I promise I'll do what you say"

Jason leaned to Damian and held him down as gently as he could. "It's okay Damian, calm down you gotta breath"

Tim went to get an air mask or anything that could help.

"His vitals are rising"

Jason kept holding Damian even though he had sobbed even harder. "Damian it's okay I swear it's okay"

"I'll do what you want, I'll be whatever you need... don't kill me again, that's all I ask"

The machine beeping had went back to it's normal pace. Tim exhaled and had to keep himself upright as he put everything back "He passed out"

Jason was silent "Hey... Jay, how are you doing?" "Fine... I'm fine just tough to see him like this I guess" "Yeah. I get it"

.

Damian whimpered as his mind came to, the pain was dull.

"No..."

"Damian are you awake?"

Damian opened his eyes as much as he could before closing them as the harsh light nearly blinded him. "Timmy lower the lights" "Got it"

"Okay. If you want to, you can open your eyes Dami"

Damian opened his eyes, the light was barely noticeable. "What..?" "Bad case of phantom pain" "Timothy is here... correct?" "I'm here bud what do you need from me?"

"You helped... thank you for that, even if I was ill-tempered"

Tim smiled "Hm, no worries, but you owe me"

"Tt. Okay"

[freedfromthegalactichivemind]

Tension

She-Ra fanfiction Entrapdak Entrapdak Mini Month Rated G  Prompt / Theme - Day 6 - Fragile  Summary:  Pained bodies cause grumpy moods.  Hordak is left fragile after overexerting himself and his notorious temper flares.  He forgets how fragile Entrapta can be at times.   --------------------------------

Tension Muscles were stiff as stone.  Bones felt fit to break. Tendons felt fit to snap. Every step came with the shakes.  Every movement was agony.   He had overdone things again, but what else was he to do?  Visitations were often obnoxious and family reunions always.  Brothers that lived outside of the Crypto Castle knew of his health condition – his defect (to his shame) – but he needed to entertain them - perhaps, to show that he was still strong, still a general.   This was what had led him to a “playful spar” with that giant from the town of Rookery.  Vigilance was a clone like any other – same height, same basic frame, but a bodybuilder and fighter.  He was an impetuous fool and Hordak was clad in Entrapta’s flawless armor, and so Hordak decided to put the young one in his place.   Hordak had won the fight, but not without a price.  After family had gone home, the next morning came the deep ache.  The armor had preformed well, but there was enough strain that Hordak wanted nothing more than to remain in bed all day.  He had barely been able to take care of some hygienic business before returning to rest.  Entrapta had already gotten up and was presumably getting breakfast.   She popped her head through the vent in the bedroom ceiling.  “Hordak! Aren’t you going to get up? We are nearly at 15% on the energy-feed adjustment to the Void Portal!  I’m gonna need your help!”   Before Hordak had realized what he was saying, he had reverted to an old pattern – one he’d forgotten he’d still even had.   “Get out!” he hissed. “Huh?” Entrapta asked.   “Get…. Out!”   Entrapta stared for a moment, her eyes wide and sad.  Hordak got a good look at her. She carefully put her mask over her face and retreated back into the duct.   “Entrapta!  Wait!”   Hordak grumbled to himself as he hefted himself up.  He winced as he stood up and stepped to his armor-mounts.  He got properly dressed and, with agonized steps, wandered around the Crypto Castle looking for his beloved.   “Entrapta.  I am sorry.”   He enlisted the aid of Imp to find her. When he did, she was alone in one of the storage-rooms, sitting on the floor in a corner, gripping her arms and rocking back and forth, her mask fully on her face. “Entrapta, my apologies,” Hordak offered, as gently as he could muster.   She said nothing.  He paused.   “My temper,” he offered, looking down, his ears dipping and pinned in shame.  “I still have much to work on.”   “It’s… it’s okay,” she said with a sniffle. “D-don’t worry about it.”   The two stood there for several minutes, caught in each other’s fragility.  The two of them were resilient, and with such resiliency, they sometimes forgot about how fragile they both could be under certain circumstances.   “I forgot how much you strained yourself yesterday,” Entrapta said. “You did not deserve my bad temper,” Hordak insisted.   Entrapta curled up, ascending on her hair. She put her mask up and regarded him with a small smile through her teary face.  “The Void Portal can wait,” she said.  “After all, if Queen Angella is even aware that she’s in the space between dimensions, she must be gathering some amazing data!”   “I am sorry that I upset you.”   “You’re wincing.  I understand now…  You’re just grumpy because you’re in pain, aren’t you?” Hordak grunted.   “I’ll make you soup.”   “Anything but that!”   “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad!”   She curled a tail of her hair around his shoulder and, shaking off her own emotional shock, guided her physically fragile grumpy spacebat back to rest.  

[universestreasures]

@kinglanius​ Sent: A Touching Tenderly Meme (Accepting)      

a touch when it is storming. [@ Ruri, either Nobles of Nature orrrrrrrr Wings of Paradise]

It’s rainy night like these that take her back to her days at the orphanage. The leaking of the rainwater onto her head, the sounds of the other children shrinking after each thunder clap, the way Allen used to get so frustrated when his inventions shorted out from the water; all of it had been engraved into Ruri’s memory. Everything from her time in that hellscape was like that to the point where she still had bad dreams about it every so often, despite having lived in Madár for months now.

It’s the combination of the storm outside and her bad dreams that makes her unable to sleep that night, having spent hours tossing and turning in her bed. She just couldn’t get to sleep. Blocking out the sounds with a pillow didn’t work, and neither did trying to think about something else. On top of all of that, her back pain from her scars flared up again, almost like the shadow of the headmaster of the orphanage and her terror still hung over her.

However, where there is darkness and fear, there is is light and comfort. For the young wingless heir, that comes in form of her elder brother and a gentle touch he places on her head. Ever since she’s met him, she’s felt...safer with him near. Was it because he was her bodyguard? Perhaps, but she would like to think it’s more because of their familial bond. It explained why she felt so comfortable going with Shun in the first place. Not just anyone would suddenly trust a winged soldier who claimed you were the heir to a magical place of winged folk, right?

Her breathing slows as she feels the warmth of his hand, instantly calming the anxious feeling deep in the fit of her stomach. It wasn’t often he showed this softer side to himself. Most of the time Shun acted so serious and professional around her, as if he forgot the fact she and him were brother and sister. Yet, it is moments like this that reminder her of the truth of their dynamic, as complicated as it may be. 

He may be her royal guard on paper and to the rest of the kingdom, but to her and those who knew the two Kuroskai youths closely, they were wholeheartedly brother and sister. It was just...taking some time to fully adjust to everything, which Ruri can fully understand despite how hard it can be at points. And if there is anything she’s learned since having been found by her brother again, is that the best things in life often are the ones one must be patient for.

“Thank you, Brother. I...I never liked storms. However, I...I know...I know I can face them with you by my side. Just like I can face anything that comes our way...”

Her wishes on those stars for so many years had come true. She had been given a family of her own, and that’s something she’d never take for granted, even if she just wishes being family would be the only thing Shun would focus on instead of his ‘duty’ to the heir of Madár...

~

[chainsawmascara]

Ama: 2, 9

HOW DID I KNOW SOMEONE WOULD ASK THESE

2. Preferred method of non-physical self destruction: Sleep Deprivation and Overworking Myself. Often with a heaping side order of taking care of everyone else while neglecting my own needs as I grind myself to the bone in the realm of career or peer advisory.

I just escaped the clutches of a two month fibro flare up where I couldn't lift my head and literally needed help crawling to the bathroom. Zero exaggeration. Complete Hell. Caused by lack of sleep/forgetting to eat in favor of working fifty 8-12 hour shifts at bizarre hours (sometimes getting home at 1:30am and having to wake up at 3am/4am to take the train back to work again), taking care of a toddler, cleaning the house, taking care of my friends and their crises, being On Call for everyone I know to catch an Uber at any second (when i had a babysitter on deck already/easily acquired) - often carrying a full oversized tote (thatidesigned) full of self care items for the spiritual body; physical body; and creative self.

I call it my Cleric Bag.

Technically this is supposed to be non-physical, however, the destructive behavior is the thought process preceding the action. It's adopting the responsibilities of others, pushing inhuman amounts of pressure on myself, and willfully ignoring my physical well-being/stress level so long as I can care for everyone else's.

I wouldn't say it's my favorite, necessarily. It's the one I default to by my very nature. I did a lot of self reflection and emotional healing to work through that during the two months I couldn't leave my damn bed.

9. Do you cry? Why or why not?: It takes a lot for me to cry. I'd say much of the reason stems from youth - needing to be the strong one for emotionally unstable parents, not showing weakness towards those who sought to harm me in one way or another, (modeling some coping mechanisms from early game squall leonheart at a very young age - we worked on it this past year or two), and living primarily in a situation of Crumble/Allow A Single Crack and It's Over in a number of ways most of my life.

I analyze things. Rationalize them. Extract emotion from the equation to view situations objectively more often than not. I also have anxiety, so I've run through whatever is happening in my head to play a mini mental film au where I do break down as if watching myself already. These mini films are entirely mental, I don't say it out loud or physically act it out. No literal crying about a hypothetical.

As for crying at media rather than personal life experiences - also extremely rare! It has to be something I connect with at my very core, which isn't easy to find! Final Fantasy VIII is the only thing off the top of my head. OH WAIT when I was pregnant, at 2am every night I'd start crying about that time in 2019 people were cyberbullying the official cinnamonroll Sanrio Twitter account. It was not during 2019. Maybe the ending of Yu Yu Hakusho from how formative it was?

Crying about media isn't a thing I do 98.4% of the time (to be generous in the other direction).

On average, I cry maybe five times a year. This year is an anomaly given the mental breakdowns I had due to the pain itself and falling apart at the bathroom sink crumpled on the floor trying to reach the water/soap while singing "I'm going to be okay" over and over to myself a few times a day. The addition of being in that pain, fearing it won't end, and fearing the effect it could have on my child inspired a number of breakdowns.

I haven't had a flare up like this in, goodness, 9 years or so? I forgot how bad it could get.

Tl;dr: I don't cry often primarily due to an analytical/rational approach to situations and childhood trauma (that has been worked through! But is also the reason for the first half! Whoopth).

I certainly can go on about myself, huh?

[butterfly-casket]

Lowkey can't believe I forgot to make this post but at the beginning of this week I walked out of my appointment 5 mins into speaking to my primary. (I had a pulse of 81 and BP of 112/70 going into it.) I left, immediately requested my entire medical history, canceled my insurance (specific to the hospital/clinic I went to), canceled my appointments and sent a message to my physical therapist that I appreciate her but will not be putting my health in the hands of *place* ever again. Then they asked me to fill out a short survey and I went OFF about the bs they've put me through for the past 3 years.

Under the cut is a description of my medical history from the past 3 years because I'm just trying to make some fucking sense of it all and how they still think fibromyalgia fits. I think they fucked up SO BAD for so long that they had no choice but to double down.

> At beginning of 2021, I get shooting pain down my leg & my hip keeps trying to give out

> gets so bad I go to the ER

> gets laughed out of the ER because I briefly mention that I've experienced chronic joint pain since age 10 (to give them the perspective that my pain scale is off)

> goes back to my pediatrician (I'm 18 at the time, haven't found a new primary)

> gets referral to rheumatology and bone & joint

> rheumatologist diagnosis me with joint hypermobility, says he can't do anything about it.

> meanwhile, my nerve pain is getting worse and worse.

> bone & joint doctor, I see him twice, repeatedly assures me that sometimes "people just have pain for no reason"

> pain gets so bad that the only thing I can do is sleep, being practically comatose, and only eating sandwich ingredients and dry cereal out of the box for 3 weeks.

> schedule an appointment with the first doctor I can see. My mom drives me, helps me shuffle into the clinic, and cries with me when the doctor walks in & asks what's wrong. We both become sobbing messes on accident bc I'm in so much pain.

> he tells me the only thing he thinks it can be is fibromyalgia. Prescribes me an antidepressant. The NEXT DAY. My pain is GONE seemingly out of nowhere

> I am unable to take the antidepressant consistently due to lack of primary doctor, doesn't seem to make a difference so I stop.

> 6 months later I am struggling to pee, 3 months after that I get my first uti and it was very bad (blood in my urine). I go to the ER but they quickly prove to be recurrent. I am treated by minute clinics around where I moved to.

> 8 months after the initial flare up, I start having mini flare ups while working an INCREDIBLY labor intensive job with long hours. I had already been working there for 3 months without issues

> have to back my car out of parking spaces VERY slowly because any time I turn my neck back that far to look, I start to black out and become unable to form thoughts. I was taught to neglect myself growing up, so I just thought it wasn't a big deal & that it would go away.

> 3 months after my mini flares up happened, I start to have a month long flare up that gets progressively worse before just disappearing one day.

> I think I'm better, get a new job, immediately have to take a month off of work due to extreme joint pain, muscle pain, and constant uti symptoms. (12 months later we find out I was suffering from thyroiditis.) Try to fix my sleep schedule, diet, exercise habits, and finally start to feel a little better. Go back to work but it's part-time.

> work there for 4 months in extreme pain every day, eventually have to leave because I can't take it anymore.

> apply for disability, get new insurance, & get taken care of by my partner. Also move in w roommates who I didn't realize were incredibly unsanitary. I try my best to clean up after them for 5 months before ultimately I give myself a stress fracture on both my L5 pars and send my body into yet another full body flare up that sends me to the ER. Am still experiencing hyperthyroidism without knowing it.

> ER prescribes me gabapentin and send me back to rheumatology.

> finally get a new primary who seems to really care.

> Rheumatology gives me a 9 beighton score & sends me to physical therapy which helps my joint pain a ton until I have another extreme nerve flare up 3 months later while doing my PT. Literally the worst pain I had ever experienced, could barely move. Primary ups my dose 6x and it helps at the very first but ultimately still doesn't keep up with the pain (like, at all. 1800mg a day.)

> sees a urologist who diagnoses me with Pelvic Floor Dysfunction and almost doesn't test my urine which showed crystals & a lot of bacteria (he acted like I was crazy for feeling something solid through my urethra.) He went ahead and did a CT to check for kidney stones and found an 8cm ovarian cyst (that they found 2 yrs prior & didnt tell me or my mother about even tho it 6.7cm at the time) and an L5 pars defect.

> gets reoccurring chest pain & palpations for months, one day it gets really bad and a nurse line tells me to go to the ER. ER diagnoses me with Anxiety.

> finally sees a spine doctor who diagnosis me with bilateral sciatica, spondylosis of my L5, and says there's a good chance my spine is popping in & out of alignment. Sends me to pain management.

> pain management switches me to pregabalin. It helps a little bit for a little bit. Eventually have to stop taking it due to extreme mental fog & personality changes.

> try dry needling therapy for 3 months for my lumbar back. It always relieves me for a short period but ultimately was making matters worse in the long run.

> having tons of flares ups all the time up until we had to move & 30 minutes into moving small boxes my back pops out of alignment, my legs give out and I'm in, once again, the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life for the rest of the day until the next morning I take an Epsom salt bath, feel a pop, and finally have some relief. I was sore from that flare up for a week after.

> find a new primary after moving, ask about possibly having hEDS and he sends me back to rheumatology (who found nothing) saying they have to rule out everything else first.

> go back to pain management, try a couple different things that either made matters worse or did nothing at all and decided to take a break from the disappointment.

> everyone keeps telling me I have fibromyalgia & anxiety despite the fact that it doesn't actually make sense with the pattern of my pain, doesn't match up with my symptoms &doesnt explain half my symptoms.

> symptom page is now 3 google docs pages long & after receiving my medical records I find a million inconsistencies, claims of me agreeing to things that were never discussed with me, and half of my reported symptoms are not even mentioned.

> have a dozen more symptoms that I'm scared to mention out of fear that I am going to continue to be dismissed, ignored— or worse, give them reason to think I'm seeking attention.

> completely lose hope for receiving the help I need.

> start having blurred vision and dysphagia, looks them up, reads about MS and realizes it fits nearly all of my symptoms. Make an appointment with my primary.

> goes to my primary, immediately is talked down to for "coming in the Friday before Christmas break" and "the only reason you got this appointment is because I had a cancelation."

> I burst into sobs and whip out my symptoms list just fucking begging for help, telling him I've been dismissed by almost every medical professional I've been to, most of my symptoms haven't even been recorded, & that I'm desperate. He agrees to finally help me, refers me to neurology (first time since this all started) and orders MRIs to check for MS.

> by this time I have had thyroiditis, a ton of infections, have horrible balance, tons of tingling and numbness in all my limbs, use a cane, been unable to work for a year and a half, worked with tons of physical therapists who don't know how to help my nerve pain, & have another ovarian cyst despite receiving treatment for PCOS.

> goes to the ER with my heart racing, vomiting, extreme fatigue and weakness. The doctor tries to gaslight me as they continuously tell me "You are a young healthy person. This is very psychological, you need a psychiatrist and psychologist." Until I am in literal tears because that treatment felt very uncalled for, especially because my labs hadn't even come back yet. I finally agree to see a therapist bc I recognize I am going through a very difficult thing in life and could use the extra support. I also felt very much like they were going to put me in a psych ward if I didn't agree. My lab tests come back showing I have low potassium & CO2. They treat me then send me home with 2 diagnoses: nausea WITHOUT vomiting, depression.

> neurology asks me a ton of medically irrelevant questions about school life, home life, relationship with my parents and then diagnoses me with anxiety without performing any tests.

> gets my second EMG that comes back clear

> finally gets my MRIs that shows cervical bone spurs on 3 different vertebrae.

> think I have FINALLY found the answer to almost all of my symptoms.

> goes back to my primary who says it's "just a little arthritis. Most people who have what you have don't have symptoms." & won't listen to me when I point out that I have every symptom indicative of complications with bone spurs in the neck (& I'm hypermobile)

> refuses to discuss why I have the bone spurs at age 22

> refuses to discuss the possibility of hEDS

> gets mad at me for not being treated for my fibromyalgia (even tho nothing works.) Keeps interrupting me to say it's just fibromyalgia.

> I say, "ok, we're done here" & get up to leave

> "you're leaving?!"

> "you just said nothing is wrong with me, I have the same thing everyone has been saying I've had for years, that I have the same thing I've been trying countless useless treatments for, what else can you even do for me?"

> "but I could get you a referral to a spine specialist!!"

> "you just said nothing is wrong with my neck. And I've already been to a spine specialist."

> "they could give you injections!"

> "I've already tried injections and they. Didn't. Work."

> "you don't even want a follow up appointment???!"

> "???? NO!!!"

[requiemforarainbow]

Trying to write with chronic pain flares is...interesting. Under a cut for talk of unknown illness/pain and personal shit.

Follow my NaNo 2023 journey: https://nanowrimo.org/participants/jordan-a-wruck

So the last week of September, I started to have a small pain in my lower right abdomen. It started at about a 2/10 - just a tiny little "oh, that feels weird. Huh." I originally chalked it up to muscle pain because I'm a side sleeper, and my right side is the normal side I get comfy on.

October 2nd. Pain was still there and increased to about a 6-7/10. Immediately got me in to my doctor's Internal Medicine side to see a doc. She ordered bloodwork and an ultrasound. Promised me results in 24 hours.

October 3rd. Doc hadn't called with results by close of business. Meanwhile, the pain spiked to a 9/10. ER TIME! (I HATE the hospital, so for me to say "let's go to the hospital" it has to HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER. Last time that happened it turned out to be my gallbladder.)

ER visit took.... 7 hours. 7 FUCKING HOURS. 2 of those hours were in the WAITING ROOM. 5 was spent in a bed in the HALLWAY in between 2 CLEARLY MARKED ISOLATION ROOMS WITH THE DOORS OPEN AND NO MASKS IN SIGHT. (In retrospect, I forgot my mask too with the pain, and 5 days later ended up with a minor viral infection myself.)

ER doc ordered more bloodwork, urinalysis, an ultrasound, and a CT scan. By the time I got back from the CT scan I was starting to get a migraine, and the pain in my abdomen hadn't subsided either. (Also I learned I'm not actually allergic to CT contrast, but that's another story.) At this point I was betting either my appendix was acting up, my pancreas was being more of a bitch than usual (diabetes is fun!), or something with my liver.

So, total time spent in the ER: 7 hours.

Results from the tests: "Nothing actionable."

Total pain medication given: Z E R O mg.

That's right. NO PAIN MEDICATION. They gave me anti-nausea meds and PEPCID FOR FUCKING HEARTBURN.

Because as we all know, heartburn starts over near the FUCKING APPENDIX.

...Yes, I was and am P I S S E D.

They literally treated me like a drug addict looking for a fix. Even after I mentioned I had a migraine. All because my 9/10 pain wasn't making me scream constantly. My normal pain level is about a 6/10, which is a level that would have most people without chronic pain bedridden and screaming. For me, anything LESS than that is literally background noise.

Oh, did I mention I had my PARENTS WITH ME?! My parents - who are also chronic pain sufferers. My parents who have NARCOTIC PAIN MEDICATION.

Naturally I brought them to the ER to help me "get a fix", right?!

What does my doc give me for this chronic pain, you ask? 800 mg ibuprofen. Which - surprise - doesn't usually do jack shit.

I mean, I get it. The narcotic stuff can be addictive. And with the opioid crisis, they're careful who they give it to. In my state, you have to be under the care of a long-term pain management doc.

Who won't see me because - surprise - I'm a "kid."

I'm 36 and use a cane because of the pain. My primary doc helped me get a disabled parking placard. She knows how bad my pain gets. She knows - but she legally can't give me anything stronger than the ibuprofen. (Which sucks. But I like her.)

But you'd think the ER could have at least given me an ibuprofen!!

Anyway. Went back to the Internal Med doc a week later. The Internal Med doc set me up with a GI consult. (Gastric doc. I'm starting to think it might be warranted because it's starting to hurt every time I eat.) The date of my initial consult?

November 30th.

Yep. That would make the appointment TWO BLOODY MONTHS after the initial pain started.

Luckily they have a priority cancellation list. And I guess someone cancelled because my appointment is now this Friday (November 10).

I already know how it's going to go. They're going to prod my abdomen a little, not find shit, and say "Okay, so we're going to have to scope you."

I've had an endoscopy before, both upper and lower. The prep is a NIGHTMARE. (Note: do not drink the ginger flavor prep with Pepsi. You will want to barf for weeks.)

Fingers crossed the endoscopy will find what the fuck is causing my entire abdomen to feel like someone is jabbing me with a cattle prod every time I eat now.

And that I can get to 50,000 words this NaNo.

[afolderfullofstories]

Whumptober 2023: Day 29

Note 1: Sorry about that weird post. Just had a bad anxiety attack. (though i did cut down on alot of dormaia's ptsd for reasons) Haven't had one in so long that I kinda forgot how bad they get. I think I'm still gonna try. I don't know if I can catch up all 31 days by Nov 5th but I still really wanna try. I think whumptober this year is harder cause I don't get the usual dopamine rush I get when I write Repo! Not sure if its the meds or if this feels more like work than actual fun. I don't know. Haven't really written Repo! properly since I started the meds so I can't say either way. Nevermind I'll probably just post something after whumptober is complete about my thoughts on completing whumptober this year. It's definitely different than previous years, thats all I can say.

Note 2: So...what happens when your D&D game has lovely things happen but Dormaia is still pre-character development and hence doesn't react to things? Well we set it post character development and make it fun.

A roar echoed from the other room. Dormaia’s head shot up as she recognized the Druid’s warning. And then a howl of pain that sent fear into Dormaia. She saw a dozen bandits gather outside the room staring menacingly at them. Dormaia’s eyes darted around the room. There was a back door. She could buy them time. She dashed towards the door, shoving the wizard out of her way.

“Hey!”

She headed straight into the room the bandits were in and closed the door behind her. She looked at the bandits surrounding her and took a breath. Fear pricked at her gut but she pushed it down. This was fine, she could do this. Her eyes darted to see the druid injured on the ground and rage flared. She attacked the one closest to her.

“What a fierce spirit.”

She turned to see a mage smirking at her. “Your friends are not your friends. They are lying to you. Kill them”

Dormaia’s brows furrowed, what was he- Her head felt heavy, she couldn’t think. They’re lying to you. Kill them. Kill them. Kill them. She tried to shake off the voice but it kept repeating the same words over and over.

 The bandits pushed pass her but she couldn’t stop them. They opened the door and she saw the wizard standing behind the door. Her mind could only focus on one word, kill.

*

Dormaia blinked, senses coming back to her. What happened?

The wizard lay on the ground, in a pool of his blood. What happened? Why couldn’t she remember? Then she looked down at the blood dripping from her rapier. Wait. Did she…did she do this? Kill. She… No she didn’t do this.

“Dormaia.”

She could only stare at the wizard’s injured form on the ground. “What happened?” Her eyes darted to her rapier. “What happened to me?”

“You were charmed, Dormaia. This wasn’t your fault.”

Dormaia’s eyes darted to Fieron who just smiled gently at her before he sent a healing spell towards the wizard.

The wizard stirred and stood, fear in his eyes as he stared at her. “Monster.” He whispered.

Something in Dormaia’s chest clenched. She didn’t mean to hurt anyone. She heard noise from behind her as she saw bugbears heading towards them. She quickly shut the door, the only thing she could do. The bandits were in the room, surrounding her companions. She…she was trying to keep them out. How…

She took a breath. She couldn’t lose her focus now. She kept her back against the door and attacked the bandit closest to her. “I can’t keep the others out. Run out the back door.”

She couldn’t focus on the blood dripping from her rapier. She needed to focus on the others. Half the party was already outside. She just needed to buy time for the ones left in the room to get out. Then she would run. They were outnumbered and cornered.

Vines sprung from the ground. Dormaia cut down the ones coming for her. She turned to see Fieron tangled in the vines. Fuck.

Dormaia pressed her back harder against the door. She just had to buy time. They could take out the bandits in the room, then focus on the bugbears outside.

There was a smash from behind her as something heavy slammed into her back. She doubled over in pain, gasping. That fucking hurt. She forced herself to straighten and looked back. There was a hole in the door, and she could see a huge bugbear standing there, wielding a giant Morningstar. Fuck. “Are you out the vines, cleric? We have company.”

 She heard the cleric struggle, “Still a little tied up.”

Dormaia grabbed the body of a red band and slammed the shortsword through him, forcing it to barricade the door and close the hole. “Hurry up.” She heard the tinge of fear in her voice and she forced it down.

There was a slam against the door as the hinges creaked.

“Dormaia, you have to go.”

Her eyes darted towards Fieron, still struggling with the vines. “You have exactly one minute to get out of the vines.”

The Morningstar slammed against the door once more, blowing open another hole. She saw the bugbear glaring at her; she would not be able to take him.

“Dormaia, go.”

Dormaia couldn’t look at him. She heard screams, familiar screams; screams that haunted her nightmares. No. No. No. Stop. Screams filled with fear, pain, all echoed in her head. And she ran. She just ran. She left her people to die. She left her family to die. She couldn’t save anyone. Her hands trembled and the rapier shook violently.

“Dormaia, it’s ok.”

She turned towards Fieron smiling gently at her. “You have 30 seconds to get out of those vines.” But her voice shook as she said it. She couldn’t run again. She couldn’t run.

She braced herself, muttering as she casted a protection spell around herself. The bugbear slammed open the door and headed right for her. The Morningstar slammed into her, the blow dissipated slightly by the spell, but she still took the full brunt of it. She stumbled backwards.

“Dormaia, there’s no point we both die here.”

Her hands shook, the hex she placed on the bandit dropped. She blinked, visions blurring. Screams. Running. She ran. She couldn’t save anyone. She just ran.

“Dormaia, if we both die, they will march straight for the party and they all will die too. You can protect them.”

Dormaia took a shuddering breath. She couldn’t protect anyone. She couldn’t save anyone. She let them die. She ran and left them to die.

The Fieron muttered his last healing spell, hand gripped tight around his Holy Symbol.

Dormaia felt her vision stabilize but she still couldn’t stop shaking. She couldn’t just run again. She couldn’t. Blood, screams, pain. She didn’t want to see any of it anymore.

“Dormaia.”

She closed her eyes. Fieron was right. She had to protect the party. She had to keep the others safe. She had to keep the bugbears in this room. “Cleric, I hope your God is as merciful to you as mine was to me.”

Fieron gave her a genuine smile, “Let’s both hope so.”

Dormaia dodged out of the bugbears grasp but she stopped before Fieron. “I really am sorry, Fieron.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. You tried.”

Dormaia ran out of the room and once again she was there. Running and running and running. Screams, fear, death. She left it all behind. She ran like a coward. She’s always been a coward. She didn’t want to die. She never wanted to die.

She slammed the door behind her, pressing her back against it.

“Where’s Fieron?”

She sees the wizard’s accusing eyes. She looked away.

“You can’t leave him behind!”

“You’re free to go in there and save him.” She spat, even as guilt clawed in her heart. She could feel something pushing and hacking at the door. “I can’t hold them off for long. RUN!”

The others ran. She could hear fighting outside. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to run and help them. But she knew once the mob inside went out, her party was doomed.

The only sound from inside the room was the mob hacking and pushing at the door. She couldn’t hear Fieron’s voice. She didn’t hear him scream. Maybe…maybe he was still alive. Maybe his God truly took pity on him. Maybe…

There’s a heavy slam against her back once more. She staggered forward as the door was blown open. She stared down the bugbear. She could hear the party still fighting outside. She had to keep them here. She couldn’t run again. She would lose everything again. She didn’t want to lose anyone else. “Come on then. I’ll send your soul right to Lord Levistus.” She had to hold out. She would buy her party time. That was all she could do. But she won’t run, not again.

[dissociacrip]

i mean, i say i've gotten overall less sick irt the undx'd neurological shit since i have stopped regularly working morning shift, because i have, but a few weeks ago before my 2nd time seeing g i had to leave an evening shift at work early bc for w/e reason i was feeling really unwell and was having paresthesia all over my lower legs and felt like i was gonna puke which got better once i was home and resting which isn't the exact same as what was happening before because it didn't come with the icy-hot searing pain in my upper back + being 7-8 on a pain scale for the rest of the day due to overall aching and then sharp stabbing pains everywhere that spoke to nerve issues (lmao i always forget i constantly have paresthesia and dysesthesia going on until i actively think about it since i've gotten so used to it. pins and needles and tingling and weird sensations on my arms and legs as i type this. certain things just make it much worse and thusly more noticeable) + worsening delerium and slurred speech to the point where it seemed like i was drunk. and it all would improve after laying down for a few ours - or at least some of it. the delerium and slurred speech definitely did. i thought i had an infection that day because in the past couple years when i've had infections neuro stuff seemed to get pretty bad. i was getting a cold sore maybe due to my cycle weakening my immune system so that could've been making it flare up?? i have no clue. i just remember having a uti that one time and getting burning pins and needles in my feet.

so i genuinely have like no fucking idea what triggers this stuff. they did a thoracic mri that showed no signs of any disc herniation yet this keeps happening on and off for over 2 years with the mri only happening when i was having searing pain focused around my shoulder. my only solid theory is craniocervical instability and my pcp said that was a possibility but i don't feel like i can ask for money from my dad to get assessed for it anytime soon considering how much financial support he's giving me already and still barely having enough money for me to get by.

and this has happened over the course of at least 2-3 years. if something is continually putting pressure on my spinal cord to the point that it can make me that neurologically fucked up even if it comes and goes rather than being permanent i would still like to know about it because that happening over and over again seems pretty fucking bad. idk i might bite the bullet and ask my doctor if there's anyone who could evaluate me at least for craniocervical instability or to at least get a motion x-ray even though they billed me $200 just to see him last. but i can't picture my dad being happy with me about that. i haven't asked him for help with that bill either. and i missed my last appointment because i straight-up forgot about it. there's also the fucking lung thing i never got x-rayed for again. god.

[manic-lili-dream-girl]

04/14/22

I kept rotating through pangs of hopelessness, a melancholic tired and extrene anger

You ask me "Do you want to talk about this?"

Idk what there is to say

I mean, the anger was this chicken and the egg thing, where I dont know if Im angry because I started thinking about the situation with my mom again, or if Im thinking about it because Im angry but without the time or energy to really handle that emotion or be properly angry, I just slide off into the other 2. Till it flared up again.

A moment where you try to reach out, show me that I am heard. It helps, but our mom's arent that alike.

I dont literally know this to be true, but I very strongly believe it, and Ive got alot of good reason to.

My grandpa groomed my mom when she was a kid. She was one of his targets, and I understand the situation with my grandma to be extremely abusive, its possible that he even killed her.

So, when my mom essentially ran away in her late teens, she repressed and forgot alot of what he did. I believe its what lead to her substance abuse and admittedly, its why I was able to forgive my mom for most of the horrible things she did while abusing.

So when she moved back into his house when she has 2 daughters and a son on the way (or what would be a daughter in 23~ years time), she was struck with christian values of family. She didnt know, couldnt accept the things that he had done to her or was yet to do to her two daughters

My life played out, that plays out, and hes sent to prison for a while

What I understand to be just under 10 years in prison, and 2 years of house arrest

Now, one of my great aunts, his sister, is in really bad health, and he is helping to take care of her. He was medically castrated in prison and apparently frequently beat after it got out why he was in there. He still goes to the same church as before we left wv when I was a kid, the same church my mom goes to now

And so, my mom following what she believes the teachings of god, has chosen to forgive him, helping to take care of both him and his sister

And my step dads mom ig

My mom has almost 4 full years of nurse schooling under her belt, 7 years of hands on training, and almost 10 years of 'at home' care for the elderly. She's super qualified to do all this too, and I know she couldnt live with herself if she didnt take care of my great aunt

Theres also the point that my mom thinks of my late sister very differently than the rest of the family

Most of us look back, see the days where she was mentally gone, couldnt process even basic information and was approaching a state of brain dead. My mom remembers the days she was lucid, when she could get full sentances out, and was very very obviously in the most pain.

Faith didnt understand what our grandpa had done to her, especially later in her days. She had been groomed by him, and all the attention, all the gifts all the free stuff is what stood out to her, atleast from what I saw. So she didnt understand why he was dragged off by the police in the middle of the night.

Apparently at some point she had forgiven my grandpa, and thats something my mom clinges to

And that is maybe what makes me the most angry

I know this is alot

Sorry

You take a moment to console me, we go back and forth as you assure me that I am handling this to some degree in a healthy normal way.

My grandpa had been this like ghost entity in my mind for a long time. Something not really tangible. He was in prison far away for what I had been told would be till his death

But now he's real

He's affecting my life

He's affecting my sister Hope's life, my mom

And I cant explain how angry that makes me

That this is still a problem

I feel driven to violence, Im so fucking

God

When I was in highschool, my dad had set up this punching bag thing in our spare room. I used to punch it till my knuckles were raw

I ripped the skin off of them more than once

And when I get angry like this, its like I can still feel that

The skin on my knuckle tore away

I

I fumble for a second. You ask "Would you say overall that sort of Catharsis was helpful or hurtful?

Do you think it made the anger more real, or did it accomodate the anger that was already there?"

The physical exertion helped

But that isnt why I did it

I had an incredibly strong drive to self harm for a period of time, maybe like 3 years

And bleeding like that was one of the only ways id let myself bleed. I couldnt cut myself, not yet, but I could do that

And its really scary to think about how much I hated myself then

How much anger I felt, and other emotions I hadnt figured out how to handle

And my dad who was emotionally abusive/manipulative. I didnt have any support

I didnt think it could be worse than how neglectful my mom was, but I dont know any more

I hate how cleanly my emotional needs were exploited by my dad. Im just glad I could see it while it happened

The fact I didnt just role over and fawn for him was I think the biggest wedge between us

You say "I think that is something to be proud of

At the very least I am happy for you that you didn't

That takes an understanding of yourself to not fall for"

I think its just because I knew something different

I had basically total freedom under my mom. Sure, no support, but no walls either. Even if I was in trouble it never actually stopped me from doing anything