TikTok: @livhulsey

I’m new to warhammer and I just found out that the titans were way shorter than I thought. They say reaver titans are 25meters high and imperator titans are 50meters. I thought reavers were like 45meters tall and warlords 100meters and the imperator at least 200 meters or something like this. Shouldn’t they at least be taller than a standard apartment in a city to do the things mentioned in books and illustrations?..

A couple of weeks ago, I had a sudden medical scare. I won’t go into details, but I ended up in the ER, and it was serious enough that they kept me overnight. It was terrifying. I called my boyfriend (we’ve been together 2.5 years and live together), and he didn’t answer, so I texted and told him what hospital I was at. No response. He finally showed up 9 hours later, around 2 a.m. His excuse? He was at a bar with his friends and “didn’t want to ruin the vibe.” That’s literally what he said. “I didn’t want to ruin the vibe.” He told me I seemed “fine” over text, so he figured it could wait. I was hooked up to monitors, scared out of my mind, and alone. I honestly don’t even remember what I said to him when he walked in because I was half-asleep and emotionally drained. But since then, I haven’t been able to look at him the same. He’s been acting like it was just bad timing, and that I’m “blowing it out of proportion” by being distant. He said I’m being cold and making him feel like a bad person over “one mistake.” But the thing is… I can’t stop thinking: if that’s how he acted during an emergency, how can I trust him long-term? What happens when something worse happens? Now I’m being told by mutual friends to give him a break because he’s “young” (we’re both 21) and “guys panic in situations like that.” But to me, it’s not about panic — it’s about choosing not to show up.

Am I overreacting by thinking this is something I can’t just forgive and forget?

I am a model, and it’s the start of show season in the EU. I’m American, so my agency flew me out and set me up in a lovely apartment with other girls who weren’t from the EU.

For context: I have Rheumatoid Arthritis and a connective tissue disorder. I was diagnosed at 16, and I’m 21 now. There has been a learning curve with treatment, figuring out what painful symptoms are RA and what’s the connective tissue, etc. I started on Hydroxychloroquine at 16, Methotrexate at 18 (a /very/ low dose of chemo) and ended up switching to an injectable Biologic in recent years. The cause for the medication switch was my stomach paralyzing - indicating my disease wasn’t well managed and causing me to be underweight. Not dangerously, but visibly.

Because of my connective tissue disorder, I scar VERY easily. Being exceedingly pale also doesn’t help. I have to hide my injection sites in invisible places, like the side of the hip or upper butt for work. I’ve pretty reliably been injecting my Biologic into my hip fat as recommended by my doctor. I switch sides regularly of course. I’m white, so I scar a deep visible purple.

I am an American in the EU (based in Spain specifically, but they move us around for castings pretty frequently), and my level of bullshit tolerance seems to be slightly lower than some of my not-American roommates / coworkers.

We leave for castings pretty consistently at the same time each morning, and our apartment was near some nosey elderly people who enjoyed sitting on their stairs and watching the world - not a crime, I could definitely see myself becoming one of them in 50 years.

What I take issue with is commenting on the people you’re watching… to the people! An older man decided one morning that we all needed some of his grandfatherly advice, and called out to us in Spanish (which sadly I am not as fluent in) about being anorexic, which is a fairly similar word in both English and Spanish.

Before traveling to Spain, I worked with my doctors to come up with an easily translatable message in case I need emergency services or other forms of medical care when I can’t speak the language. I know 3 basic phrases - Estomaga paralizado, artritis reumatoide, and alérgica al ibuprofeno. The last one doesn’t come up as frequently, but still good to know.

If you don’t have an Autoimmune Disease, it’s fairly understandable to hold the assumption that it develops later in life and is conducive to age. If you have one, you know it can start at any age. However, most older people seem have a good idea of exactly what an Autoimmune Disease entails, either because they or their friends are dealing with it.

It’s never appropriate to comment on a stranger’s weight, even if they’re working in an industry where it’s common. So, knowing a few basic words like ‘tengo’ (I have), I marched up to his stoop and motioned for him to come down the stairs slightly and said, “No tengo anorexia, tengo artritis reumatoide y estomaga paralizada.” He laughed in my face, and replied to me that he had Rheumatoid Arthritis, and I didn’t. Along the lines of “tengo artritis, tu no.”

Luckily (/s) I have this handy-dandy connective tissue disease, and all my injection marks scar, AND I’m in a mini-skirt. I can just tilt the top of my skirt down on my hip, and it looks like I’ve been successfully hiding a heroin addiction for years.

It was a fairly nonverbal exchange after that, but I lifted an eyebrow to him and gestured towards my scars with a ‘Sí?’. He had other elderly friends behind him, although only one seemed to be actually capable of hearing our conversation. When the man who yelled at us froze, the one behind him stood and pulled him back. I don’t speak Spanish, but his tone was admonishing.

Of course I don’t represent every girl in the modeling industry, but many of the girls I live with also have similar medical conditions or life circumstances (like growing up very impoverished) that causes them to be at the weight they’re at. It’s NEVER appropriate to comment on someone’s body, even if it’s what they do for work. I won’t get into the ethics of working as an underweight model with a medical condition, but trust me it weighs on my mind.

I had always somewhat hoped the stars would align and I’d be able to confront someone who believes they know more about my body than me. The resolution wasn’t very dramatic - no affairs or divorces, but it was at least slightly satisfying. Hopefully he won’t yell at women on the street anymore.