#Eye-related pain during migraines

[tatumeyecare]

Eyes and Headaches Connection: Understanding the Link Between Ocular Pain and Migraines

In our modern digital age, where screens dominate our daily lives, it's no surprise that the eyes often bear the brunt of our technological advancements. What might surprise you, however, is the profound impact that eye health can have on your overall well-being, particularly when it comes to headaches. This comprehensive article delves deep into the intricate connection between eyes and headaches, shedding light on ocular pain, visual discomfort, eyestrain-induced headaches, and various related phenomena. Through this exploration, we aim to provide you with a clear understanding of the relationship and offer insights on how to find relief through effective eye care practices.

Eyes and Headaches Connection

Living in an era of constant screen exposure has led to an undeniable connection between eye health and headaches. The strain placed on our eyes by prolonged device usage can lead to a cascade of discomfort that often manifests as headaches. The Eyes and Headaches connection underscores the need for better awareness of our eye health, which is crucial for preventing and managing headaches.

Ocular Pain and Headaches

Ocular pain, often experienced as aching or discomfort around the eyes, can be closely intertwined with headaches. This pain can range from mild to severe and is commonly associated with tension-type headaches. The Eyes and Headaches connection becomes apparent when individuals find that addressing their ocular pain can lead to a reduction in headache frequency and intensity.

Visual Discomfort and Migraines

Visual discomfort, including sensitivity to light and blurred vision, is a hallmark of migraines. This discomfort often exacerbates the pain and can be a triggering factor for migraines. The Eyes and Headaches connection is evident in the way that addressing visual discomfort through proper lighting and visual breaks can help prevent migraines.

Eyestrain Causing Headaches

Eyestrain, a consequence of prolonged visual tasks, is a major player in the Eyes and Headaches connection. When we strain our eyes, the tension can radiate to the surrounding muscles, including those responsible for headache pain. Recognizing the relationship between eyestrain and headaches is pivotal in adopting strategies to alleviate both.

Headache Triggers: Eye Strain

Eye strain is a well-established trigger for headaches, often referred to as tension headaches. The connection between Eyes and Headaches is seen in the way that overworked eye muscles can lead to tension in the head and neck, ultimately resulting in throbbing headaches.

Vision Problems and Headaches

Undiagnosed or uncorrected vision problems can significantly contribute to the Eyes and Headaches connection. Squinting and straining due to poor vision can lead to eyestrain and trigger tension-type headaches. Regular eye examinations are essential for preventing such issues.

Eye-Related Tension Headaches

Tension headaches, characterized by a band-like pressure around the head, can have their roots in eye-related strain. When the muscles around the eyes are fatigued, the resulting tension can radiate to the head, causing discomfort. Recognizing this connection can lead to better management of these headaches.

Migraine with Visual Symptoms

Migraines often come with a range of visual symptoms, known as auras. These can include flashing lights, zigzag lines, and blind spots. The Eyes and Headaches connection is evident as visual disturbances are intricately linked to the onset of migraines.

Eye Fatigue and Headaches

Eye fatigue, a common consequence of prolonged screen time, can have a profound impact on headache occurrence. The Eyes and Headaches connection is clear when we consider how tired eyes can contribute to tension and discomfort that translate into headache pain.

Optic Discomfort and Migraines

Optic discomfort, such as pain behind the eyes, can be a significant indicator of an impending migraine. This discomfort, often interconnected with visual disturbances, highlights the close relationship between Eyes and Headaches.

Eye Strain-Induced Headaches

The strain placed on the eyes due to extended screen use can lead to eye strain-induced headaches. The Eyes and Headaches connection becomes evident when we realize that managing screen time and practicing regular eye exercises can help alleviate both eye strain and resulting headaches.

Headache Behind the Eyes

Headaches that manifest as pain behind the eyes are not uncommon. This sensation can be linked to various eye-related factors, including strain, fatigue, and tension. Understanding the Eyes and Headaches connection can guide us toward effective strategies for relief.

Visual Stress and Headaches

Visual stress, often caused by prolonged reading or staring at screens, can contribute to the development of headaches. The Eyes and Headaches connection becomes apparent when we recognize the impact of visual stress on overall eye health and its subsequent influence on headache frequency.

Headaches from Eye Problems

Certain eye conditions, such as dry eyes and uncorrected refractive errors, can lead to headaches. The Eyes and Headaches connection underscores the importance of regular eye check-ups in preventing and managing headaches.

Ophthalmic Origins of Headaches

Headaches originating from ophthalmic issues emphasize the close connection between the eyes and headache occurrence. Conditions such as glaucoma and uveitis can cause eye-related pain that translates into headaches, highlighting the Eyes and Headaches connection.

Eye Strain and Cephalalgia

Cephalalgia, a medical term for headache, often has its roots in eye strain. The Eyes and Headaches connection is illuminated when we understand that addressing eye strain through proper habits and eye care can have a positive impact on headache frequency and severity.

Periorbital Pain and Migraines

Periorbital pain, experienced around the eye sockets, can be a precursor to migraines. This discomfort is a testament to the interconnectedness of the eyes and headaches, where changes in eye sensations can serve as warning signs of impending migraines.

Eye Health and Headache Correlation

Maintaining good eye health goes hand in hand with preventing headaches. The Eyes and Headaches connection is evident as we acknowledge that practices like regular eye exercises, proper lighting, and screen breaks can contribute to both clear vision and reduced headache occurrences.

Headache Relief Through Eye Care

Effective eye care practices can offer significant relief from headaches. The Eyes and Headaches connection becomes actionable when we incorporate strategies like the 20-20-20 rule (taking a 20-second break every 20 minutes to look at something 20 feet away) to alleviate eye strain and related headaches.

Photophobia and Headache Connection

Photophobia, or sensitivity to light, is a common symptom of migraines and other headaches. The Eyes and Headaches connection is evident as we recognize that managing light exposure and wearing proper eyewear can mitigate photophobia and its associated headaches.

Neurological Links Between Eyes and Headaches

The intricate web of neurological connections between the eyes and the brain underscores the Eyes and Headaches connection. Changes in visual processing, nerve signaling, and blood flow can all contribute to headache onset and severity.

Headache Due to Visual Disturbances

Visual disturbances, such as seeing flashing lights or halos, can be harbingers of headaches. Understanding the Eyes and Headaches connection enables us to recognize these warning signs and take proactive steps to manage headache occurrences.

Eyeball Pressure and Migraines

A sensation of pressure within the eyeballs can accompany migraines. This pressure can be attributed to changes in blood flow and nerve activity. The Eyes and Headaches connection becomes apparent as we delve into the physiological processes that link these sensations.

Ocular Tension and Headaches

Tense eye muscles, often a result of prolonged screen time or squinting, can contribute to ocular tension headaches. The Eyes and Headaches connection highlights the importance of relaxation techniques, visual breaks, and proper ergonomics.

Migraine Aura Affecting Vision

Migraine auras, encompassing visual symptoms like flickering lights and visual distortions, can significantly impact vision. The Eyes and Headaches connection emphasizes the need for early recognition and management of these auras to prevent debilitating migraines.

FAQs

Q: Can eye strain really cause headaches? A: Yes, prolonged eye strain can lead to tension-type headaches due to the interconnectedness of eye muscles and the head.

Q: What are some effective ways to relieve eye strain-induced headaches? A: Practicing the 20-20-20 rule, using proper lighting, and adjusting screen settings can help alleviate eye strain and related headaches.

Q: How do visual disturbances relate to headaches? A: Visual disturbances can act as warning signs of impending headaches, signaling changes in brain activity and blood flow.

Q: Can poor eye health lead to migraines? A: Yes, uncorrected vision problems and untreated eye conditions can contribute to the development of migraines.

Q: Are there specific eye care practices that can prevent headaches? A: Yes, incorporating regular eye exercises, taking breaks, and managing screen time can significantly reduce the occurrence of eye strain-induced headaches.

Q: What role does photophobia play in the Eyes and Headaches connection? A: Photophobia, or sensitivity to light, is often a symptom of migraines and can trigger or exacerbate headaches. Managing light exposure is crucial.

The Eyes and Headaches connection is a complex and multifaceted relationship that underscores the importance of maintaining good eye health for overall well-being. From ocular pain to visual discomfort and migraines, understanding these interconnections empowers us to adopt effective strategies for prevention and relief. By prioritizing proper eye care, managing screen time, and recognizing warning signs, we can minimize the impact of eye-related discomfort and headaches on our daily lives.

Tatum Eyecare is North Phoenix’s premier family eye care center. We’ve spared no expense to create the most pleasant, comfortable patient experience… including the finest furnishings, the best selection of prescription eyeglass frames, the most cutting-edge technology, and the most outstanding team of industry professionals. Come see why the choice for family eye care in the Valley has never been clearer.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm into normal dudes and women with blue hair

HAPPY DRAGON APPRECIATION DAY! Honestly, this is 100% a joke. But in a still sort of serious way. I wrote this literally today between work things and hockey things and life things, but I needed to post it today so it isn't edited and honestly it is very rushed. But it's fun! It's meant to be silly and goofy! This is for the girl with the dragon au herself, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation . Eddie would do everything in his power to fuck a dragon, especially if it's Steve, and I think you will agree with me on that. I hope this makes you laugh a little bit 💖 - Mickala

rated m | 2786 words | cw: implied sexual content, kinda sorta implied monsterfucking ? | tags: dragon steve harrington, crack fic not treated that seriously, friends to lovers, getting together, first kiss, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington

🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲

Steve doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not the flu or a cold. If it’s something serious, he’s gonna pretend it’s not. If it’s something Upside Down related, he’s probably gonna die, so it is what it is.

He just feels so warm on the inside, almost feverish, but his skin is fine. A little dry, maybe. Kinda cracked like it’s the middle of winter and he ran out of lotion. And he swears that he’s grown an inch. Maybe more. His pants are hitting above his ankle where they used to be just below.

Maybe it’s just heartburn. He did eat that taco with extra hot sauce last night, and bodies are weird or whatever.

He’s at work when his back starts hurting. He’s used to some pain in his muscles and bones, especially after the last bout with the Upside Down. He’s got chronic pain according to doctors, but it’s really not that bad unless he sleeps wrong or stands for too long on hard flooring or it rains or-

Well, it’s pretty bad a lot, actually, but this is different.

His legs start to cramp during his break, and he decides maybe it is the flu. His shift doesn’t end for another three hours, but he’s not sure he can make it that long on his feet.

He says that to Keith, who somehow managed to get a supervisor position at Melvald’s after everything despite not showing any effort in actually working. He rolls his eyes and complains about Steve trying to get out of working, says he’s never gonna become a team lead if he keeps avoiding finishing a shift.

Nevermind the fact that Steve has rarely ever left a shift early, even when he couldn’t see straight from a migraine or walk from his knee joints rubbing together until he was sure they would start a fire.

But he leaves, and he feels exhausted the moment he gets in his car, and he wonders how he’s going to get home.

The burning in his chest gets worse as he drives. His vision goes blurry and then suddenly extremely clear. He can see everything. There’s water droplets on the car in front of him, but it hasn’t rained. That’s weird.

Almost as weird as being able to see water droplets from his own car when he could barely read the license plate on the car for the first few miles that he was behind them.

He parks in his driveway and gets out of his car. The world spins a little.

He gets inside his house and collapses on his couch.

Everything goes black.

****

“Okay. So we just aren’t gonna call anyone else about this?” Robin’s voice breaks through Steve’s consciousness, and he blinks his eyes open. “No one else should know about Steve no longer being human?”

Steve finds that to be a concerning statement.

“I’m not sure what anyone else is gonna be able to do about his current situation!” Eddie whisper-yells.

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a weird growl.

And then everything else hits him.

He is much larger than when he passed out. He looks down and realizes the concerning words Robin spoke are even more concerning than he originally thought.

He growls again, louder.

“Okay, Steve? Stay calm. You appear to be a dragon. But like, that’s kinda par for the course! Like, I’m sure it’s temporary!” Robin is rambling and she is loud and the room is so bright. He’s not even sure how he still fits in the room.

“I just think if we called Hopper, he could at least figure out who needs to know!” Eddie ignores Steve’s growling.

Apparently, he can’t fucking speak, and he’s a dragon. So that’s cool, and he’s so glad he left work early so he didn’t have to explain becoming a flying fantasy creature to Keith or a random shopper. That would be quite a conversation.

“This is so bad. He can’t talk!” Robin ignores Eddie’s suggestion, which isn’t a bad one at all in Steve’s opinion. Eddie’s actually very logical and smart most of the time. Turns out when he’s not being wrongfully hunted by the cops, he’s a pretty chill dude. “Steve, can you write?”

Steve blinks and he feels something burning in his chest.

“Of course he can’t write!” Eddie exclaims. “He has claws!”

Steve tilts his head down and realizes Eddie’s right. He doesn’t have hands. He’s got claws. Sharp ones.

He makes a noise that sounds closer to a whimper than a growl, and the room goes quiet.

“Are you in pain?” Robin asks.

Steve looks at her concerned eyes, her bitten-red lips, her anxiously wringing hands. She’s gotta calm down before she has a full-blown panic attack.

He shakes his head once before leaning forward to gently nudge her hands with his nose.

God, this is weird.

“This is so fucking weird,” Eddie says under his breath. Steve’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have heard it if he were human.

Steve tilts his head so his nose nudges against Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie lets out a strangled laugh before he reaches a hand up to touch Steve’s neck.

“This is unreal.”

Steve finally recognizes the burning feeling as fire. He’s a dragon. He’s gonna breathe fire. This is so fucking strange.

He pushes up and somehow manages to turn his body until he’s facing the window. He won’t be able to open it without breaking it, so he hopes Robin or Eddie figure out his intentions. He’d really like to not burn his house down.

Eddie seems to catch on quickly, rushing to make room between Steve’s face and the window. He unlocks it and throws it open, hurrying away from Steve’s mouth.

Fire pours from him for nearly ten whole seconds.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie says when he’s done. “Does that hurt?”

Steve shakes his head again. If anything, it relieves him of that burning sensation that’s been in his chest all day. He feels lighter.

He’s still a dragon, though.

That’s a pretty big issue.

“Okay. Alright. We call Hopper. We swear him to secrecy. If the kids find out-“

“Dustin can never know about this. He’ll be insufferable during campaigns,” Eddie says, one hand caressing Steve’s scaly skin. It feels nice, soothing. Human Steve hasn’t had a caring touch in a while, so it might feel even better than usual. “But what if they find out anyway? What if he stays like this forever?”

Great question. Steve definitely wants to know the answer to that.

“Well, dragon and human marriage isn’t technically illegal, so I guess you’ll have your happily ever after,” Robin says.

Steve’s head swivels and he hears a crash.

Eddie’s hand is no longer touching him and that’s a shame because it felt really nice and it’s a pretty good distraction from the fact that he’s a very large dragon.

”What the fuck, Buckley.”

“God! I ramble when I’m nervous!” Robin is apologizing and Steve is wishing more than ever that he could talk. He needs to understand what the hell she means. “I’m gonna go call Hopper before I say something I shouldn’t.”

Eddie’s pacing the floor in the very small space that exists around Steve’s body.

Actually, he decides now is as good a time as any to take a look at what’s going on. He can feel how big he is, but it doesn’t really register until he turns his head to see the wide expanse of his body. He doesn’t see wings, which is bullshit. If he has to be a dragon, he should get wings, right? Eddie always draws them with wings. His tail is spiked, but not nearly as long as he expected it to be.

Damn, is he a disappointing dragon?

“Dude, I dunno what she was talking about with the marriage thing. Sorry if that made something weird.” Eddie is rambling now and Steve is focusing back on him instead of the way his chest and belly seem to be much more durable than the rest of his skin. There’s a lot to unpack with this development. “I’m not into dragons. I’m into normal dudes and women with blue hair. Probably also dudes with blue hair. But, normal dudes do it for me. Like you usually are my top pick. Oh fuck.”

Steve huffs what should be an amused laugh, but ends up just being a half-snort.

“I mean not that you aren’t kind of hot like this!” Eddie rushes to say. “If dragons were hot, you would be the hottest dragon around. In fact, there’s a voice in my brain that’s very curious about how this would work like…sexually. But obviously that can’t happen. It won’t happen! I’m sorry. I’m shutting up. Maybe even leaving.”

Steve’s mind is reeling. He’s even more frustrated that he can’t speak now that Eddie’s clearly talking himself into a hole he might not be able to climb back out of.

He didn’t even realize he was Eddie’s type. He didn’t even know Eddie was his type until a few weeks ago! And now he can’t do anything about it because he’s a dragon.

He huffs again, but this time in frustration.

“Hop’s on his way!” Robin yells as she walks back into the room. With both of them and Steve taking up almost the entire room, Steve notices how hot it’s getting.

“One of us should probably tell Nancy. She’s gonna want to know about this,” Eddie suggests. “And she likes you way more so it should probably be you.”

“I’m not leaving Steve right now. He’s in the middle of the biggest crisis of his life.”

Steve grunts. This is surprisingly not the biggest crisis of his life. Top three, maybe.

He nudges Robin towards the door with his nose. Her panic is too much for him right now, and Eddie’s is a different panic. He can handle Eddie.

“You want me to go?” Robin clarifies.

Steve nods his head once. More than once is a chore. His head is so heavy.

“Fine, but I’m coming right back after. I’m not letting you be a dragon alone,” Robin says before rushing out the door.

Steve looks over at Eddie and feels his whole body shiver.

What the hell is that about?

“Are you hungry…or thirsty…or anything else?” Eddie asks awkwardly.

Steve’s good. He doesn’t feel any pain for the first time in a long time. He isn’t hungry or thirsty. He shivers again.

“Are you cold?” Eddie must notice, stepping so close that all Steve can smell is whatever cologne Eddie wore today and his leather jacket. “I can shut the window.”

Steve leans his head down, nudges his nose against Eddie’s neck.

He jumps.

“Cold,” he breathes out. “Are you okay?”

Steve wants to tell him yes. He’s inconvenienced, but he’s okay.

He nods once.

“I can wait outside?” Eddie offers.

Steve shakes his head. He shivers.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Uh. I think maybe you need to be outside.”

Eddie walks to his shoulder, touches just past what would normally be his shoulder blade.

It’s almost too much when Eddie’s fingers brush against the leathery skin there. Steve lets out a rumbling noise, something between a growl and a moan. He isn’t sure if dragons can moan, but he assumes they can be turned on, and Eddie’s touch seems to be doing that.

“You have wings,” Eddie’s voice is awed. “I don’t even know how to get you out the door. God, what if you’re stuck in here? Like a caged bird. I’ll break a wall or something. Wayne could patch up something for you. But the neighbors…”

Steve feels it more definitely now: wings trying desperately to spread behind him.

He probably should be outside. He can’t be right now, not here, but they have to figure that out if he doesn’t change back soon.

“Okay. It’ll be late enough in the next hour, we could probably get the sliding glass doors out of the way and maybe you could-” Steve cuts him off with a nudge to his neck. “I wish you could tell me what you’re thinking.”

Steve wishes that, too. He’s not sure how he’s gonna get out of this predicament without explaining what he does know, and he can’t do that if he can’t talk.

Eddie rests his head against Steve’s shoulder, and it can’t be comfortable, but he stays there as he fills the silence. Sometimes, Eddie talks too much. Right now, Steve’s glad he has things to say.

“...And Wayne insisted I tell you, but he doesn’t understand that you’re not into guys. He keeps saying you probably just never considered it an option, but that’s probably not true. I mean, you and Tommy were close and it seems like maybe if you were gonna be into dudes, he’d be your type.”

Steve huffs and Eddie laughs.

“Okay, okay. So he wouldn’t be your type. Tom Cruise?”

Steve knocks his jaw against the top of Eddie’s head. He’s gentle because he already recognizes the damage he could do if he wasn’t.

“Knew it,” Eddie sighs. “I have about as much in common with Tom Cruise as Wayne does.”

It’s quiet for a minute. Steve wishes he could say something, tell Eddie that he does think Tom Cruise is hot, but he finds Eddie beautiful, and that difference is important. He wishes he could tell Eddie that he doesn’t find Tom Cruise interesting, doesn’t think he would enjoy listening to him talk about campaigns and music and whatever random fact he read in a book.

Eddie’s head turns, and his mouth is brushing against Steve’s scales. He can’t believe he has scales.

And then he doesn’t.

He feels lightheaded, the room goes black, and when he opens his eyes again, he’s on the floor with his head propped in Eddie’s lap.

His human head.

Attached to his human body.

“Steve? Jesus Christ. Are you okay?” Eddie’s too loud.

Steve raises his hand and pats Eddie’s cheek, smiling up at him. “Can’t believe you would fuck me as a dragon.”

Eddie cackles. There’s no other word for the hysterical laughter he can’t seem to control from bursting out of him.

“I would fuck you as anything, I think,” he says when he finally calms down. He isn’t looking away from Steve and Steve isn’t looking away from him.

He’s suddenly exhausted, and he’s sure that whatever his body just went through is going to take some major recovery. Steve closes his eyes and holds Eddie’s hand against his chest.

“Tell Hop I started feeling warm inside and then grew and became a dragon,” he mumbles, yawns, smacks his lips together as he settles more in Eddie’s lap. “Might happen again.”

“Right. Should I take you to the hospital?” Eddie sounds far away now.

“Nope.”

Eddie leans down to kiss his forehead, brushes the hair from Steve’s face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m fine,” Steve blinks his eyes open, uses every ounce of energy he has left to do it. “Am I a normal dude?”

Eddie’s forehead crinkles. “What do you mean?”

“You said you were into normal dudes. Is that me?”

Eddie tenses under him.

“You’re a normal dude, yeah.”

“So you’re into me?” Steve closes his eyes again. “Enough to kiss me?”

“I cannot believe this is happening. This night has to be a dream. Or someone finally got their hands on me and killed me.”

“I like dudes who like dragons,” Steve says, smiling lazily as he curls up his body to fight off the cold. He realizes he’s naked, and should probably cover up before Hopper gets here, but he doesn’t want to move. “And dudes who play guitar and ramble when they’re nervous.”

“Oh,” Eddie gasps. “So…you like me?”

“Kiss me before I change my mind.”

Steve’s too tired to put much into the kiss, but Eddie leads, and it’s perfect. There’s not much he can do about his dick getting hard when Eddie deepens the kiss and runs his hands down his sides. He’s exhausted, but his dick isn’t.

Eddie manages to get them to the couch, and Steve manages not to fall asleep until after Eddie’s gotten him off. The mess can wait, but Eddie throws a blanket over them when he hears a car door slam and boots walking up to the door.

“Did you get high or was Steve really a dragon?” Hopper asks as Steve loses his battle with the exhaustion.

Hopefully he wakes up human, but he thinks even if he doesn’t, Eddie will still be into him.

[nowimjustastranger]

Just a little gift for my bestie Phoenix, aka @flame-cat, because they were in a car accident recently. But thankfully they're okay! This was actually inspired by an outline for an interaction between the brothers that they shared with me privately, so enjoy 1.5k words worth of stangst y'all!

Ford scrubbed a hand over his face with a frustrated groan, fingers knocking his glasses askew. He couldn’t afford to have his body fail him now, not when he had an exam to study for. But what he wanted didn’t change the fact that his eyes had started to outright refuse to focus on the words in the textbook five minutes ago, an annoyingly persistent migraine pulsing behind his eyes.

To make matters worse, the landline rang. The shrill sound made the bothersome migraine go from a mild three all the way up to a solid eight on his tolerance scale, which made his temper flare. Ford snatched the handset off the cradle with a growl, reluctantly bringing it to his ear.

“Stanford Pines.” He bit out, adjusting his glasses with his free hand so they sat on his nose properly. When his prickly greeting didn’t garner a response outside of what sounded like labored breathing, Ford scowled. Great, it was his mystery caller again. Just what he needed on top of an already stressful day.

“I refuse to keep entertaining these prank calls, so if you call again I’ll be notifying–” Ford began in a stern tone, but he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Stanford.”

Stanley. That was Stanley. Why was his brother calling him at –Ford stole a glance at the clock– two in the afternoon? What could he possibly want? Well, whatever it was, he wouldn’t be getting it from Ford. He had already given up so much because of Stanley’s selfishness, he wasn’t about to give him the opportunity to worm his way back into Ford’s life–

“…Sixer?” Stanley asked, a breathless quality to his voice that brought Ford’s anger back down to a simmer. Why did Stanley sound like that? His breathing was short like he wasn’t taking full breaths, but there was still a measured quality to each inhale and exhale like he was breathing that way on purpose.

“How did you get this number?” Ford asked bluntly, bracing his elbow on his desk before letting his forehead drop into the palm of his hand, resigning himself to having this unexpected yet long overdue conversation with his estranged brother. Maybe Stanley had realized the error of his ways and called to apologize? Yeah right, fat fucking chance of that.

“Ma passed it along.” Stanley grunted, his tone laced with pain, and Ford could certainly relate. He didn’t want to be talking to Stanley any more than Stanley wanted to talk to him, which begged the question: why exactly did Stanley call him?

“Of course she did.” Ford grumbled, suddenly feeling every hour of lost sleep hitting him all at once. He was exhausted. He was tired of trying to fend Ma and her mission to reconnect him with his brother off, tired of walking on eggshells during his monthly calls home just to avoid saying the wrong thing and causing unnecessary drama, and he was tired of putting up with the part of him that still cared about his brother.

“I… I think my ribs are broken.” Stanley said quietly and Ford’s brain shrieked to a standstill, his grip momentarily going slack on the handset as he tried to process the implications of such an ominous statement, forcing him to fumble with it until he managed to press the receiver back against his ear.

“What?” Ford barked, tone incredulous and concerned in equal measure. He resolutely ignored the way that his hands trembled, his grip white-knuckle tight on the handset.

"My ribs. I think–” Stan cut himself off as his breath hitched, a pained hiss following shortly after. Ford found himself leaning forward, blankly staring into the middle distance as he strained his ears to hear every little shift in Stanley’s breathing, trying to assess his brother’s current state. “Nevermind. Shit. Not important right now.”

“Not impor– You can’t be serious, Stanley!?” Ford seethed, lurching out of his chair, uncaring as it tipped back and crashed to the floor as he began to pace. He made sure to stay within the range that the cord allowed him, but he simply couldn’t sit still when Stanley was hurt and possibly even suffering from a head wound considering that he wasn’t making any fucking sense–

“I’m fine. It’s fine. I just…” Stanley spoke in starts and stops, his breathing strained as he spoke through what sounded like clenched teeth. “I need…”

“What? What do you need? What happened?” Ford prompted with urgency, fingers curling and uncurling anxiously. He had to know. He couldn’t estimate the severity of Stanley’s injuries without more data, right now he was left with what his imagination could produce. He needed facts in order to combat the increasingly horrible scenarios that his mind was dredging up.

“Car crash.” Stan said on an exhale and Ford nodded even though his brother wouldn’t be able to see it, pinching the bridge of his nose as his useless brain fixated on those two words.

“What else hurts? Or is it just your ribs?” Ford asked tersely, moving back to his desk with a determined stride to grab a piece of paper at random along with the pen that he had tucked behind his ear earlier. He scribbled down Stanley’s comment about his potentially busted ribs and then let the pen hover as he waited for Stanley’s –hopefully detailed– analysis of his person.

“I dunno… stomach hurts. Kinda swollen.” Stanley mumbled, sucking in a sharp breath as he presumably prodded at the area in question.

“Lightheadedness? Nausea?” Ford pressed, his heart lurching into his throat as several injuries came to mind, internal bleeding being the most likely explanation. Stanley had already displayed textbook signs of internal bleeding, such as disorientation and shortness of breath.

“Both? Feelin’ a bit sluggish too.” Stanley admitted, the muted rustle of clothes indicating that he had adjusted.

“Is the cord long enough for you to sit down?” Ford asked, looking up when the door opened and Fiddleford stepped into the room. Ford frantically waved him over, writing a message for Fiddleford in the notebook before sidestepping so he could read it when he hurried over.

“I think so? Lemme just…” Stanley huffed, Ford splitting his attention between the sound of Stanley gingerly lowering himself to the ground and Fiddleford’s rapidly paling face as the man read through Ford’s notes of Stanley’s wellbeing.

“Stanley? Stanley, are you there?” Ford prompted when there was nothing but harsh breathing for several seconds, sharing a look with an equally rattled Fiddleford.

“Yeah… yeah ‘m here.” Stanley panted, his speech slurred, and Fiddleford hurried from the room to contact emergency services with a different phone. As soon as Ford got a location, he would relay the address to Fiddleford and then stay on the line with Stanley for as long as he could before the call cut out.

“Where exactly is ‘here’, Stanley? Where are you?” Ford asked, rapidly tapping his pen on the notebook just to have something to do since he couldn’t get his hands on his brother like he desperately wanted. He hated feeling so useless.

“Uh… outside a 7/11.” Stanley said weakly, his voice barely a whisper.

“Which 7/11?” Ford demanded, his eyes narrowing. Either Stanley was losing consciousness, or he was losing his grip on lucidity. Neither were ideal considering the circumstances. Ford didn’t have enough information to confidently deduce how hurt his brother was. These could be Stanley’s last moments and Ford was wasting his breath giving him the third degree instead of saying anything of value–

“Um… I dunno.” Stanley said with the vocal equivalent of a shrug and Ford suddenly felt the inexplicable urge to scream.

“An address, Stanley.” Ford clarified in a clipped tone, impatiently tapping his foot as emotions built up in his esophagus, bubbling up despite his best efforts to stuff them back down into their vault. This could be his last opportunity to say something. Anything. Ford couldn’t squander this rare chance, couldn’t let Stanley fade away without knowing that his big brother lo–

“I dunno, s-somewhere in New Mexico, I guess.” Stanley murmured, sounding a little less strained but just as tired. Sitting down had eased some of the stress that his body was under then. Good.

“Just stay there, Stanley. You hear me? Don’t move.” Ford said sternly, speaking slowly and clearly so Stanley’s muddled brain could register the words and damn well heed them. Ford knew that Fiddleford could triangulate Stanley’s position using the phone call, but he wasn’t going anywhere until the call ended.

“M’kay.” Stanley agreed, his voice so quiet that Ford wouldn’t have caught it if his entire focus hadn’t been on his brother. Ford ran a hand through his hair, gripping it at the roots and tugging as he stared down at the notebook, bloodshot eyes roaming over his messily scrawled notes.

“I’ll meet you at the nearest ho–” Ford assured, unceremoniously cut off when the line abruptly went dead. “–spital.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

“God fucking damnit!” Ford snarled, slamming the handset onto the cradle with excessive force before turning on his heel to sprint out of the room and track down Fiddleford. Then Ford would take over the call with emergency services while his roommate used his skills to locate Stanley, sending an ambulance to him.

College could wait, Ford’s brother needed him.

[lua-magic]

How Planets Affect Our Health and Body

People with exhalted sun, or sun with fiery planets like Mars and south node could suffer from baldness.

Debilated sun, like in libra or cancer could cause you heart problems.

Sun afflicted by south node or north node or when gets debilated libra or water signs, could give eyes related problems, or bones issue.

Sun or Mars in Scorpio though considered exalted could give piles

Mars when gets debilated in water signs like fourth house, or twelfth house or afflicted by south node or north node could give skin problems.

Debilated Jupiter in Capricorn or when afflicted by south node north node or when combust with sun could cause liver problems and cholesterol.

In extreme case, bad Jupiter could cause cancer as well.

Bad Venus or when afflicted could cause impotency in men especially when Venus is with south node.

Venus is always exalted in water signs in fourth house and in pieces.

Fast moving planets like Mercury and moon in twelfth house could give you insomnia.

Moon is in when sixth, eighth and twelfth could give you mental issues, as you can't let things go easily from you.

Remedy is too give power to moon.

Issues, like migraine and bloating, pain in legs and teeth are caused by bad Saturn.

Bad ketu or south node in chart could give problems of back pain and urinary tract infection and problems related to ears..

Bad north node or rahu could give you hallucinations, schizophrenia and phobias and disconnect you from reality.

Bad or afflicted Mercury could cause you ADHD, anxiety, learning issues and speech problems like stammering, stutter and lisp.

If the fifth house is damaged by rahu, ketu or Saturn or if Jupiter is afflicted or debilated in women then it can cause, infertility or trouble during childbirth.

[therealslimshakespeare]

do the girls deal with any specific bouts of cruelty BECAUSE of period weeks? Like guards being especially malicious or things like that?

Female Complaints

Me instead of just answering, takes weeks and ends up writing you a blurb, which rather deviates from the original ask. Ugh sorry. The long and short of it is yes! If, and that’s a strong if, they are caught during it. But they would endeavor not to be with everything in them. And as shown here, many of the boys try to help with that

Warnings: mentions of periods, internalized Misogyny, some gender dissatisfaction (we’ve all been there when curled in a ball and no Advil on hand) and some hinted sexual threats

Lieutenant Sanchez would have rather licked that guard’s boot than admit to her ailment, but the longer his all too observant heckling went on, the more conscious she was of symptoms she’d otherwise surmount by a supreme and long perfected method of productive disassociation.

Keeping her eyes down on her literal cabbage patch, Sanchez tried to pay attention to the rub of her blisters on the rough hewn handle of the garden hoe, anything to forget about the tear pricking pain gnawing at her pelvis. It was an old trick to withstand the forces of hurtling her fighter jet into the blue yonder, to focus on another discomfort, the bite of your tongue, the curl of your toe in your boot, anything over the crucial and foremost discomfort that might throw off your performance. She wasn’t weak, she knew that, but it was impossible not to hold oneself up next to others. Her time in enlistment had only been possible on certain days of the month by crucially provided medications. Now those medication weren’t available and she was half crippled one week out of the month, and there was talk. Talk about how she ever managed to do her job.

She’d done it magnificently.

That’s how she’d done it.

And she’d seen it through until her bird was a fireball in the sky, driven down into her target along with her bombs, one last salvo of equipment, a final “fuck you” to her enemies as they plucked her from the sky. Now she was hoeing sandy earth between cabbage rows with a swimming head and knees that buckled from the intensity of her menstrual cramps.

Lieutenant Sanchez wasn’t very fond of considering herself a woman; it hadn’t gotten her much beyond unwanted restrictions and unasked for attentions. She could not relate to Maureen Kendeigh’s delight in her sex, the way she held court over discomforts and reveled in girlish peculiarities while in camp. Maybe Kendeigh was more confident, stronger, or maybe she’d had a kinder go of life so far, but Sanchez would rather lick that guard’s boot than admit even to her fellow prisoners that she was suffering from female complaints again.

Last time had been complete with a migraine, and there was nothing for it but to lay with her coat sleeve tied around her eyes and blindly grope for the bucket to puke on occasion. Someone had emptied the bucket twice, brought a washcloth and gently told her to “let me” while she’d futilely batted the kindness away.

Sanchez wasn’t looking to recognize her benefactor. Even though she suspected him, he wasn’t getting shit from her. Not even thanks.

She refused to belive that anyone had seen her like that. Just as this guard was never going to get the satisfaction of an admittance of the same. There was no tell-tale blood on her trousers, she was doing her job, the weeds were being churned up by her furious whacks -the Krout Fucker could go pound sand for all she cared. But then again, were it an option, she’d do anything to pause, to straighten, to brace her hands on her hips for a brief respite.

-A posture that had earned her the guard’s first jape.

If she’d mistaken his German jokes about blood and female dogs, she did not misunderstand his gesticulations to his crotch and then her own. The laughter that followed from his fellows haunted her, that little crowd of four standing at a little distance, smoking and mocking, the way her fellow prisoners gave her uneasy looks, the way Ida Brady hauled the water buckets about a few rows down as if she hadn’t bled a child out of herself a little over a month ago.

The woman was ghost-like in her frailty and thinness, but she was strong. Sanchez loathed her for it, for the way she’d managed to be so very discreet about the ultimate female humiliation, the way she seemed so impervious to all the taunts and laughter of the guards about her erstwhile misfortune. The way she could haul buckets and hoe crops without a wince, the way she was respected by the men in spite of it.

“Here, let me.” a large, warm hand folded over Sanchez own white knuckles on the wooden handle, making to take her prop from her.

Same words, same voice, if there was anyone she liked to avoid more than Ida Brady herself, it was her caregiving fairy of a brother. Washcloths over throats or help in Sector B’s shit excuse for a garden, Sanchez didn’t like owing John Brady anything. She gripped her garden implement harder, half to wrestle it back from his presumptuous aid, half because now he was taking it away, she realized how crucial the support was to her remaining upright.

“Think you’ll find this is mine.” she snapped.

“Think maybe you should take a breather.” he leveled back, fingers still curled over hers and for a woman who’d not allowed a single touch all winter, to feel a hand on a hand in springtime was more electric than perhaps it should have been. Or maybe it was those watchfully wise eyes pleading with her through a greasy fringe of brown hair. His eyes were green in the sunlight, or maybe that was his undershirt reflecting.

“I’m fine.” she jerked at it; unnervingly the wood didn’t even budge from his grip -he was strong for a scrawny little fuck with pretty clavicles and no need for a razor.

“These are for you.” Brady’s other hand extended a very quaint little bag in front of her face, domestic and familiar, its label touted seeds for a variety of squash. “To be sewn in between the cabbages, apparently their vines will help block out the weeds. And we can eat them.”

Sanchez took the bag with one hand, her other still trapped beneath his own on the hoe’s handle. “And you’re not smart enough to put seeds in dirt?”

“Sit down and plant them before I make you.” Brady’s tone was the sort Sanchez supposed her father was going for when belligerently ordering her about in her younger, dependant days, -it weakened her knuckles in reflex and suddenly the hoe was out of reach and Brady’s other hand extended as if to help her into some goddamn carriage. “Come on, no one will notice if you stop makin’ a fucking scene.”

Gingerly she put her hand in his and knelt down, winded from the agony of the descending movement despite his supportive grip, but once seated on her knees, she had to admit -to herself, never him- it was better this way.

“There.” he muttered, like he himself had been the one relieved, “You don’t have to be so stubborn. Everybody helps everybody in here.”

Sanchez pondered that, knowing that the bomber girls certainly had a pack of protectors that she had denied herself due to belligerence and not a little annoyance at being blamed for Cleven’s scars. Stubborn, he dared call her stubborn! It made her venomous even as she carefully undid the bag and poured a small quantity of the precious seeds in her palm, “Oh?” she taunted him “Does your harpy of a sister even have female complaints?”

John Brady’s form was excellent even when hoeing a cabbage row and he certainly was making an annoyingly more significant amount of progress compared to Sanchez’s weak limbed efforts of before. “Wanna keep your teeth?” he grunted as his hoe blade blurred near her foot, “Then don’t talk shit about my sister.”

Sanchez found the warm earth and the posture on her knees too comforting to retain her vitriol; she ought to hurl another barb at him but it all seemed a little unimpressive as she realized this was the first spring day she’d really enjoyed: sat here on her knees between cabbage rows with John Brady whacking the earth beside her.

“Huh.” she uttered after a while, having kept pace with his work down the rows, shuffling on her knees and repeating the motions of dig and plant and cover. The crowd of guards had not yet dispersed but the heckles had stopped.

“What?” Her companion grunted.

“Staring at asses seems to be a staple for them, no matter whose ass.”

Brady’s hoe thudded into the earth and stayed there for a beat too long as he met her eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Is it the one with the blonde scruff?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Brady’s hoe went back to work, its wielder not seemingly perturbed.

“Used to that?” she asked him, suddenly discomforted at the realization, which was a new sensation for her -concern for somebody else in this hell hole.

“Yeah.”

“That’s shit.” was all she had to offer, but she eyed the guard in question, and something showing on her face seemed to bother him enough he turned away and began his route through the compound again, cigarette crushed into the earth and dog trailing at his leash.

“Yeah.” Brady assented beside her, unaware of the change. “Lotta things are shit right now.”

“Yeah.” she agreed.

“S’why we need to let each other help.” he sermonized and she was reminded why she found the young captain so aggravating. She also felt an odd impulse to follow him around like those damn guard dogs and snarl at anyone who had shitty intentions.

“Yeah.” She agreed, “Anytime you need to hide a body, I’ll help.”

He turned her a lopsided grin, surprising in its width and brightness, how easily it cracked across his sober face despite the context, “Knew I’d find your currency one day, Sanchez.” he about preened and then they began on another row.

[giurochedadomani]

Wip, Shanks & Mihawk having the Conversation, a bit more serious take on their reconciliation, it will have a happy ending, this is old men communicating.

It isn't a problem, not really. 

Except that Shanks can't avoid the rush of crushing dread the moment Mihawk climbs on top of him and glances at his stump. 

It’s not a problem, and honestly, he could do without talking about it. Back in the day they said their piece: he highly doubts he can get his point across any better now.

Staring at the swordsman, he refuses to acknowledge the sheer awkwardness of the whole, trying to have this conversation when they’re both half naked situation, and effectively waits for Mihawk to kill the mood. 

…

The silence in the room is deafening. 

…

He wonders what the other is preparing to say— and tenses up as if brazing himself for a storm. Instantly, he looks back at the last couple of days, but he can’t pinpoint an incident related to his stump that might have made the swordsman uncomfortable, and then feels really stupid for even trying to do so. 

It has been Mihawk’s third visit after— well, everything. He has brought another couple of bounty posters of Luffy and Zoro, as he’s taken to do, and has told him the last bit of gossip. They have danced around the fact that the swordsman was going to spend the night and then acted surprised when the hour had advanced long enough to make the swordsman sailing away a rather uncomfortable option. 

The migraine has crept on him during the next day. 

It hasn't even been that bad, given what he's used to. Just a dull ache in his shoulder, paired with a vague dizziness. Enough discomfort to make him bury his face in what turned out to be Mihawk’s chest when Lucky Roux has called for breakfast, and then bail out of one or two of their plans for the day. 

He’s not afraid of telling Mihawk. He’s mature enough to acknowledge that the swordsman’s entire problem is— well, that. The fact that wielding Yoru is so intrinsicate to his identity that he cannot conceptualize anyone giving up on being a swordsman, which Shanks hasn’t, and if only just listened to what he has to say, he could—  

“What’s going on?”. 

Shanks blinks and— blinks again. Mihawk’s words throw him out of the loop with enough force that for a moment he forgets to be annoyed, which in turn makes the other frown. 

Bright golden eyes fixate on him with a hint of concern. It's kind of ridiculous, really, with that wide brimmed hat of his sitting askew on dark locks. Pitifully, the image pulls at his heartstrings. 

He knows he’s being unfair. The problem is not only the swordsman and his painful refusal to put his feelings into words. It’s not as if he hasn’t also been avoiding this conversation with the vain hope that the issue might resolve on its own. The way Mihawk has waltzed back into his life has been entirely unexpected and, truth be told, he didn't want to ruin it. 

And there he is, again, following patterns he promised himself he was never going back to. Ten years have passed and Mihawk still makes him feel like a heartbroken teenager. 

Gently, but firmly, he pushes the other away until they’re both sitting on the couch. 

“You look—” disappointed, “uncomfortable”, he starts, hesitating for a moment as the other’s frown deepens and then adding in a rush: “Which is fine. I don’t want you to put yourself in any position you don’t want just to, I just want to make sur—”.  

“You don’t make me uncomfortable”, Mihawk cuts him off, baffled and… sad?

It makes his throat clog, for some dumb reason. He already regrets opening his mouth, dreading the moment he knows he's going to lose his cool in the face of Mihawk's unshakable demeanor. 

[astrolocherry]

BIRTHDAY JUPITER SERIES

Jupiter in Aries Natal - Girl Born with the Headache from Hell

written by Astrolocherry

People born with Jupiter in Aries feel like the world is at her feet and under her command, until her wings suddenly burn out and her feet crash back down to the ground. There's a vigour for life that is resistant to the limitations that hold other people back. Jupiter in Aries arms her with a celestial guard. Your diamond who doesn't mind for rough conditions or a little blood. She is inquisitive and curious to a level that near sends her parents mad. And it can be a contagious type of inspiration that is a lifelong reminiscent of the spirit of the young. Self-confidence is a potion mixed with the courage, sass, and the spunk to confront her fears and survive the toughest conditions. She is competitive to a relentless degree, winning is the only reason for actually competing. And she can turn even the smallest of daily activities into a competition with someone. When victory is in reach, she seems to summon an extra dose of supernatural adrenaline power, a second wind comes more like a hurricane with fierce determination to win. Organic talent for sports, usually recognisable at an early age is a common Jupiter karmic gift in Aries. These abilities express across wide spectrums and shine in high pressure conditions. Though a Jupiter in Aries temperament is more likely to prefer solo-sports that prevent her from having to rely on others, allow personal goal setting, and the prize will be all her's in the end.

The Jupiter in Aries person likes to stay in motion and doesn't care much for those who can't keep up with her. She will stop at nothing to get the outcome she wants, whether exalting herself by reaching an aspiration, or through acts of mischief, and sometimes vengeance. Her vitriol is a natural curse when directed toward another person, and she must stay armed against those who know how to provoke her. This can overwhelmingly occur with the parental figures and be especially volatile during the formative years. Sometimes, this can be instigated or accompanied by deliberate attempts to be made to feel inadequate to a female sibling.

In the mythological story, Zeus ordered Ares to break his head open to relieve an excruciating headache. Jupiter in Aries individuals can be subject to frequent headaches and debilitating migraines, along with sharp pain behind the eyes.

The condition of Jupiter in Aries tends to require self-inflection points relating to troubles with impulsivity coupled with a grandiosity that can disregard reason and well-informed advice. Along with developing skills that reduce the fight or fight response, learning to pause and reflect rather than react also serves her well. These individuals often require substantial physical outlets that alleviate the inflammation of high stress, agitation, and general frustration at other people. There's usually a therapeutic connection with dogs that may provide a calming effect and a companion with equal energy to expel.

The Jupiter genie grants a gift for enchanted speculation. She has the foresight to spot a fortuitous opportunity when it arrives, usually through a vision or an inclination that she has felt before and it served her well. Immoderation is often the affliction that compromises her game. Eventually, she refuses to be cut by losses and challenges bad habits with objectives and head games. She is certainly wired to be reckless and senseless at times, but she goes head first into anything so soon that she learns early, and often develops a street wise nature beyond her time. Astrology could never predict what the Jupiter in Aries could ever do next.

Cherry

[kinamiiii]

Mind Relief

Jean Grey x Fem Reader

Summary: After a long day of teaching the young mutants in the x-mansion, you were shot with a nagging headache, but luckily, the generous Jean was willing to help ease that pain... amongst other things if you allowed her to~

Warnings: Not proofread btw. Set on any time period of the trilogy films except Jean is only Scott’s friend, Reader has Migraines, Soft Dom Jean Grey, Light Dom/sub, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Oral Sex, Sloppy Makeouts, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Telepathy, Spit As Lube, Teasing, Clit Rubbing, Desperation, Hair-pulling, Biting, Marking, Mind Reading, Dirty Thoughts, Pet Names, Nicknames, Finger Sucking, Thumb-sucking, Slight Aftercare.

Purple is Reader!

Red is Jean Grey!

a/n: This is my very first X-men related fic ever so I don't really expect it to be all that great. Not to mention with Jean as my character of choice to write an 'x reader' for. l've been enraptured by her from the movie's trilogy and just couldn't resist the temptation any longer..

Bless Famke Janssen and her hold on my gay lil heart~ (⸝⸝⸝⁼̴́◡⁼̴̀⸝⸝⸝)

Link to AO3

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You were in the X-mansion, inside your dorm room, thick curtains nearly blocking out the harsh afternoon sunlight through your windows, while you sat at the edge of your soft but unmade bed. Your elbows atop your knees as you gradually rubbed your temples with the pads of your fingers, trying so much as to ease a terrible ache that afflicted your cranium. You silently groaned in pain with shut eyes until your ears picked up a couple knocks at your wooden door.

“It’s open..” You managed to get out through your partly dried lips with a strained tone of voice. The knob quickly turned as the door came ajar, with a familiar redhead peeking her head through your room before she fully entered inside. You glanced up for a moment to see Jean with a small grin on her glossy pinkish lips, walking up and towering over your small sitting frame. “Hey, are you feeling alright? The professor asked for me to check on you since you hadn’t come by to his office this afternoon.”

Jean stood in front of you and hunched herself over, with palms to her slightly bent knees and knitted brows as her eyes closely observed your irritated expression. “I’m alright,” you mumbled in reply. “Just dealing with a migraine. Must’ve pushed my powers too hard during today’s session with the kids.” The telepathic let out a sympathetic sigh and straightened out her stance with her arms crossed against her chest.

“You really should be more careful, hun. Wouldn’t want you to end up in the infirmary because you exhausted your ability. Your mutation is sacred and must-”

“Yeah I know, I know. Thank you, Ms. Grey.” You interrupted her and commented sarcastically with a curl to one side of your lips as you stared up at Jean. She returned a narrowed gaze to you, along with a light giggle that you could honestly have on repeat in your ears for hours without end. You had been infatuated with her ever since she’d first met you in the school a few months ago, with her as your lovable tour guide, so when your eyes lingered on her for a bit longer than normal, you truly caught her pure visage. How soft her lips were seen to the eye, the way her brown orbs with thick lashes held a sharpness to their scrutiny with each glance she took, along with the arches in her well prepped fine, dark eyebrows, and the sheer definition of the bones in her cheeks that give her such a prestigious appearance.

She was breathtaking and it felt like a privilege to even have her in your vicinity, let alone know her as your fellow colleague at the institute. It wasn’t long before your half lidded eyes could see Jean’s mouth move again and her brows furrowed in concern. “Are you sure it’s just a headache that you have?” She asked you with an arm slightly raised in your direction. “You seem to be flushed… and dazed too. You don’t have a fever, do you?” She pressed the back of her hand to your forehead to check for your temperature, which only made more of your hot blood rise to your cheeks by the second.

The sheer touch of her silky skin upon yours had made you almost forget about the throbbing pain in your head, until you winced and tightly shut your eyes from feeling an intense sensation, as if someone were aggressively poking directly at your brain. “Fuck… I don’t have a fever. This just really… hurts.” You said as you gestured a single finger to your head and a light groan leaving your throat. The redhead’s hand slowly slid across your forehead and made her fingers gingerly land on your temple. She then took her other hand and did the same on your other side.

“Jean? What are you-”

Your words were immediately cut as Jean took a few steps closer to you, halting between your slightly opened legs. You looked up at her, only to be greeted with her sincere smile and relaxed voice, and the subtle scent of her french vanilla perfume from her clothing hitting your nostrils.

“Now, I’m not positively sure if this will work, but I’d like to see if my telepathy could somehow reduce the pain that you’re feeling. All I need is your permission to allow me to do so.”

Your eyes glistened up at her face as you nodded your head, giving her your full permission and trust to aid you. She then instructed you to close your eyes and control your breathing, to which you humbly obeyed. Your chest slowly rose and fell as you kept a steady rhythm to your air intake, while what felt like wave-like vibrations hit at both sides of your skull. You then felt the aches of your migraine begin to soothe and simmer down as bits of your memory flashed in the darkened void of your shut eyes.

They were harmless past visions of your time at the mansion, ones you vividly remember, ranging from the first day you met Charles and the rest of the X-men in his office, to the small conversations you would have with either Scott, Logan or Jean in the kitchen in your spare time. You exhaled deeply and decided to slowly open your eyes again, witnessing that the statuesque telepath had closed hers to keep her focus on her power. You looked on at her concentration as a familiar burn to your cheeks returned with an intensity. She seemed so in control and full of confidence in her capability, which sent a pooling sensation straight to your core.

Your hooded stare traveled all over Jean, from her pretty face and luscious red locks resting on her shoulders, to the prominence of her collarbones through the v-neck of her black slim fitted top, then towards the plumpness in her breasts and the curves of her waist. And in that same moment, your mind began to conjure up some random thought, a rather lewd one as a matter of fact. Picturing the very colleague stood so closely to you in the most promiscuous manner as she was generously eliminating the irritation from your crown. It had you feeling absolutely filthy, but you couldn’t find it in you to make it stop.

You imagined Jean swiftly dropping down to her knees right between your opened legs, resting her hands on both your thighs as she stares up at your flustered expression. She’s hungry, in need of you. To taste you. Her fingers teasingly reach under your skirt, grabbing the waistband of your lacy panties before pulling them completely off. She then grabs the hemmed end of your skirt and lifts it up to your hips, leaving your bare behind resting on your bed and your sex sopping wet and fully exposed. Her giggles that you adore so deeply fills your ears as she leans her face forward into the gap between your thighs, with her lips slightly parted, ready to-

“Quite a spectacle in that head of yours, hm?”

Jean’s voice abruptly snapped you back into reality, with her lips giving away a wide smirk across her face along with a wiggle in her brows. You let out a gasp of pure terror as you shortly realized that she was able to get a vivid sight of all your thoughts, including your explicit point of view of her face between your shaken thighs. “Shi-shit! Jean, I’m so s-sorry!” You blurted out in a stutter, resulting in the redhead removing her hands from your temples, putting a stop to her telepathic ability and gently cupping your piping hot cheeks in her palms. She then leaned down, just inches away from your embarrassed face where you felt her warm breath and she exhaled a sultry whisper towards you.

“You know, If I had known that’s what you’d think about due to my… help, I would have checked on for you sooner, sweetheart~”

Your lips trembled before you bit down hard on your lower half anxiously as the pads of Jean’s thumbs softly brushed at your flustered skin. She then took you by surprise as her own plush lips pressed against yours for a brief kiss, her tongue making subtle licks at you before breaking herself apart. She glared at you with greedy eyes and giggled at how incredibly nervous you appeared to be before her. “Surely, you must have wanted something like this for a long time judging from how strong your vision was. Perhaps you were too shy to really act on it. Am I right, hun?” Jean’s inflection was so sweet and nurturing, it was impossible to ignore. It was hypnotic to you.

You hesitantly gave her a nod to answer her question, making her flash a little of her pearly white front teeth through her smile. Jean, without wasting any time, got down on her knees directly between the wide gap of your legs, similar to how she was positioned in your provocative vision. She then reached into your skirt and gently inched her hands close to your outer thighs, feeling your trembling skin on her fingers. You planted your own hands at your sides on the edge of your bed, gripping the sheets tightly to attempt to keep yourself grounded.

Your chest heaved as your heart palpitated excessively through your rib cage. Your thoughts were racing at accelerating speeds, causing you to feel faint. You had never expected in all your time of quietly yearning over this woman, that you would ever get to the point you were at right now. It felt unreal, a fantasy, so deeply imaginative to you. You just had to be dreaming. Jean’s eyes soon met yours and gave you a reassuring squeeze to your thighs.

“Your mind is practically screaming at you, hun. I can hear it all. But you can relax. I’ve got you now.”

Her soothing, honey coated tone began to calm the storm in your head, melting away your anxiety and replacing it with a lustful anticipation. You took deep breaths and nodded at Jean, prompting her to proceed with generous caution. She moved her hands upward, her fingers grazing your panties and hooking at its waistband to pull them down your legs. Once they had come off, she threw them across the floor and went to pull at the end of your skirt, yanking it up and making the bunched fabric rest at your hips. The redhead was still for a moment, basking at the sight of your half nakedness.

Your cunt was coated in a thick arousal and practically dripped and wet your sheets beneath your ass. The ache that had previously been from your migraine, somehow traveled between your legs, turning into a seething want for desired pleasure. Your hole was clenching around nothing and your clit had been hardened, ready to be touched by the woman below you.

“God, you poor thing. Look at you, you’re drenched.” Jean snickered and made your knees spread further apart, and a cool air briefly hitting your pussy and sending a chill to your spine. She brought her glossed lips to your inner thigh and pressed them against it to lay some soft warm butterfly kisses upon your flesh. You whimpered and bit down on your lip as her red curls brushed upon you and the sensation of her kisses drove you up a wall with major tingles. You clawed at your bed sheets as you impatiently watched her from above, hoping to feel her mouth on your cunt anytime soon.

“Je-Jean… please. You’re teasing me,” you stammered under your heavy breath. “I need you, I-I need your mouth. Please~” Jean’s brows raised at your unexpected desperation. She pulled her mouth away from your flesh and held a smug expression on her face. “My, I never took you for much of a beggar. Say my name for me again, sweet thing.” Your face reached to a boiling point as you softly called out her name once more. She hummed in satisfaction and quickly licked at her lips. Your urgency was like music to her ears. She then placed her mouth back, now on your other thigh and bared her teeth to it, letting them sink into your skin and imprint their marks.

You yelped as you felt the sharp sting of pained delight rush through your nerves. She bit down some more on other areas with her canines digging into you, nearly breaking your skin before she pulled away again. You looked down at yourself and witnessed to the teeth marks she left behind, taking one hand away from your bed and lightly grazing the pad of a single finger over the indents. “Like them? Now you have a reminder of who you belong to. Unless, you want my teeth on… other places too~” Before you could give a response, Jean immediately parted her lips with her tongue and gave your dribbling slit a slow drag from bottom to top.

“U-uh fuck!” You moaned out of your chest with tightly shut eyes. The tip of Jean’s nose touched your swollen bud as she kitten licked at your hole more, with more whines from you echoing throughout your room. Her tongue prodded and lapped at your arousal, savoring your sweet taste and purred as she pushed it further into your entrance for more. The vibrations of her muffled sounds had you squealing in ecstasy and your thighs almost squeezing around the sides of her head. You could feel her writhing tongue along your spongy walls as you hung your head back with a gapping mouth.

“Fucking shit Jean. So good, so good!” You let a hand slip into her hair with your fingers passing through her scalp before clutching tightly at her roots. The woman grunted at your aggressive tugging as she took her tongue out of your hole and watched up at your nearly blissed out face. “You have no idea how adorable you look from down here, sweetheart,” she said with some of your slick running down her chin. “And god, you taste just as good.” Jean wiped her mouth clean with her fingers then thoroughly sucked on them, teasing you as you stared at them getting covered in her saliva.

“Why is everything you do just so hot? Are you even real?” You whined as your hand caressed the back of Jean’s head. She was stunned and amused at your compliment and giggled at you with blushing cheeks. “I assure you I’m very real. No mind games here, darling.” She lifted her hands up in a surrendering gesture before dropping them on your knees. You grinned down at her before exhaling a dreamy sigh. “Hmmm, I don’t know. I think I might need more proof that you’re actually right in front of me~” Your lips curled into a smirk as you taunted her with a quick boop to her pointed nose.

“Oh, cheeky I see. Well, I suppose I have no choice then.” Jean brought one hand up close to your pussy, letting her spit coated fingers trace along your opening. You shivered at their cold wetness before they managed to slowly sink down into your blistering heat. You squeaked as she got knuckles deep and her fingertips kissed at your good spot. The redhead pulled them out and swiftly plunged them back inside, earning more of your deletable noises. “Heh, real enough for you?” Jean’s smugness emulated with each thrust she gave you, and the sounds of the obscene squelching that left your sopping pussy fully boosted her ego.

When you tried to answer her, your words turned into boisterous moans once her tongue made its way to your clit. Your mouth left agape again as she drew circles around and sucked on it passionately, with her teeth occasionally grazing at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Okay, you’re real! D-definitely real!” Jean stifled her laughter as she continued to please you. The combination of her fingers repeatedly nudging your spot and the swirling of her hot tongue on your bundle of nerves was sending you mad. Your eyes rolled back and your grip tightened in her hair, pushing her head further between your legs.

You felt a knot in your stomach ready to come loose as you were inches away from your orgasm. You started to clamp down hard on Jean’s fingers as she heard your roaring thoughts pleading for her to make you cum. “Don’t worry, baby. Cum for me. I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Her fingers curled and scissored you along with her thumb replacing her tongue to create more motion. pushing you completely over the edge. Your back arched with a high voice belting out your chest as you finally came for her, squirting your viscous juices onto her hand and some splattering on her face and lips.

“Fu-fuck… sorry…” You panted as you loosened the hold of her hair. Jean didn’t respond but instead, got up from her knees and forcefully pushed your back down to your bed. Your eyes widened as she climbed over, gingerly sat on your pelvis and caged your head in her arms while she hovered above you. She then leaned down with her face merely centimeters away from yours before planting a feverish kiss on you. Both of your tongues slipped into each other’s mouths, allowing you to taste yourself from her and relish in the flavor. You wrapped your arms around her neck and played in her mouth a bit more before having your lips separate.

“So, was that just like you’d hoped in your vision?” She questioned you with a giggle as she wiped a bit of sweat from your brow and kissed your forehead. You gave her a dazed nod and returned a tired smile to her. “Mhmm, even better actually~”

[staydandy]

The Golden Eyes (2019) - 黄金瞳 - Whump List

List by StayDandy Synopsis : A simple pawn shop worker, Zhuang Rui, had his own eyes mutated after an accident during a robbery attempt of an ancient Jade carving. His mutated eyes subsequently brought many changes to his life in many unexpected ways he could ever imagined. (MDL)

Whumpees : Zhuang Rui played by Lay Zhang (center) • Peng Fei played by Meng A Sai (2 eps) (far right)

Country : 🇨🇳 China Genres : Adventure, Martial Arts, Fantasy, Tomb Raider

Notes : This is a Full Whump List • This is the a revision of my Partial List, which only had 4 episodes on it! It really deserved better than that. • My favorite episodes are pink : 00

Related List : The Golden Eyes (2019) - partial list

Episodes on List : 37 Total Episodes : 56

*Spoilers below*

01 : Glass gets into Zhuang Rui's eyes, knocked out … hospitalized, eyes bandaged … blurry vision, overwhelmed by new eyesight … unsteady, rubbing eyes

02 : Headache

04 : Attacked, hooded

05 : Handcuffed … falls through a trapdoor

06 : Protects someone from an explosion, knocked out … protects someone from a 2nd explosion, knocked out

09 : Rubbing his eyes

10 : (near end) Attacked, fight

11 : Shaking head in slight pain

13 : Fight, knocked out … dizzy, eye/head pain.. unsteady

14 : Car crash, knocked out … treated in hospital

17 : Drunk, unsteady, helped to walk

18 : Shaking head, pain.. unsteady, passes out, caught … nauseous … locked in a wine cellar

19 : … continued from previous ep. ... Locked in wine cellar, shivering

22 : While driving, shaking head, pain … revealed he's been shot in the leg, bleeding, limping … temporary amnesia, migraine, collapses.. leg infected, fever

23 : … continued from previous ep. ... Limping, exhausted, eye pain.. blurry vision, collapses, passes out … headache

24 : … continued from previous ep. ... Passes out, hospitalized

25 : Chased, rolls down a hill, migraine, unsteady, blurry vision, temporarily blind … blurry vision

26 : … continued from previous ep. ... Still partially blind … vision slowly returning, blurry … steps on a landmine

27 : Peng Fei is captured, tied up, whipped

28 : … continued from previous ep. ... Attempts escape, tied up again … Zhuang Rui is captured, tied up … Zhuang Rui & Peng Fei are knocked out with smoke bomb … Zhuang Rui nightmare.. headache, ear ringing

29 : Not feeling well, not eating, depressed

30 : Wrestling match, sore after … lightheaded

31 : Lightheaded … out of it, collapses against a pillar, barely conscious, helped to walk … blurry vision, migraine, helped to walk, saying he can't see or hear, writhing in pain, given a shot to sleep

32 : Unsteady, starts to collapses, supported … slightly unresponsive … headache … nightmare

33 : Hit with a shovel

35 : (near end) [flashbacks to eps 22, 25, 31] migraine, amnesia, blind, migraine, writhing … [present] drunk

36 : Admitting he's lost his sense of taste … eye strain, headache, exhausted … (@ 13:16 Huang Fu Yun looks so much better without the birdshit highlight in his hair) … drunk

37 : … continued from previous ep. ... Drunk … captured, hands tied

38 : Shock, dizzy, migraine, collapses, caught … briefly knocked out from explosion

42 : Eye strain … captured, hands tied.. hit with bats in a fight

43 : Drugged … tied up

44 : MIgraine

45 : Dizzy, collapses, migraine.. unsteady … starts to collapse, supported

50 : (at end) Tied up

53 : Attacked, knocked out … migraine … captured

55 : Headache, backhanded, falls & hits head on a pipe, barely conscious.. carried … unconscious … hospitalized

56 : … continued from previous ep. ... Hospitalized, drugged asleep … hospitalized for brain surgery.. seizure during surgery

More Whump Lists for this show: love-me-a-lotta-whump whumpetywhump

[letitbehurt]

Fav injury and why? Eg, broken bones, stab wound, burns, cauterization, gun shot wounds, torn ligaments or tendons

I do love a good stab wound, but my favorite type are the injuries that last. The ones that require Whumpee to change the way they live their daily life. For example:

Impaired vision or hearing. Whumpee needing glasses, contacts, eye/ear surgery or a hearing aid.

Scars, left anywhere that isn’t easy for Whumpee to hide—their face, their hands, their neck, their arms—so Whumpee either has to get used to strangers staring or to wearing sweaters during summer (maybe they can get tattoos to cover it, if they don’t hate needles, but inking scar tissue hurts).

Bodily aches; migraines, or a bad knee that gets worse when it’s cold. Whumpee needing medication or a cane for days when the pain is unbearable.

Nerve damage, specifically in Whumpee’s hands. They can’t write as well as they used to (if they can write at all), and their hands shake too badly when they try to do anything that requires dexterity or precision. There may be a permanent numbness to nearly everything they touch. At times, this can frustrate them to the point of a breakdown.

Speech impediments. Whumpee might have gained a stutter or a lisp (maybe even a permanent rasp) as a result of their trauma/injury. Even if they can afford speech therapy, it frustrates them to need it when speaking used to come naturally.

Phobias or PTSD. Whumpee may likely develop an aversion to objects/situations related to their initial trauma—avoiding certain foods, certain places, certain sounds, certain smells—and can have an intense reaction to triggers.

These sorts of injuries are favorites of mine because they have a lasting effect on Whumpee’s life. They’re a personal battle Whumpee often faces long after their initial trauma occurred. When these injuries are written with sensitivity, respect, and necessary research, they’re my favorite sort to read about. Hands down.

[noctupede]

hi! just discovered your blog✨, and since you like hetalia I just wanted to ask what your headcanons for Iceland are as an Icelander yourself ? how do you view him?

As an Icelander, I absolutely adore emil. I think my biggest headcanons mostly have to do with historical relations to other countries.

Such as Iceland having a very mixed relationship to America, very back and forth on either liking or hating him. But that's mostly me being a nerd about icelandic history. During the Cold War and the occupation of Iceland, he was described as a very difficult ally because he would repeatedly do things just to provoke America or go against what he was told to do.

Now, most of my headcanons are silly

- he absolutely needs hearing aids, i enjoy imagining him as having very bad hearing and taking out his hearing aids when he's tired of listening to people

- autistic, because yeah, which is how he often comes off as being very stubborn or uncooperative to others

- On that note, boat and fish special interest, all types of boats, but very reluctant to talk about them due to not wanting to come off as childish.

- the boy has a miserable eye sight but only got glasses once the migraines were too painful to handle

- collects weird things like pieces of metal or tabs off of cans

- has no understanding of modern slang even though he is a teenager. Routinely has to be explained what they mean, just for him to call it stupid

- surprisingly creative, most gifts from him are handmade, unless he doesn't like you. Everything from creating things from scraps, or knitting

- reads a lot! As Iceland had a very high percentage of authors

- "everyone is horrible until proven otherwise" mentality

- either sleeps 50% of the day or barely anything at all, worries his brother to death about his health

- he has very cold skin all the time, despite saying he's warm. Cold hands constantly

[miguelswifey04]

Miguel x reader Where reader has like those annoying eye headaches and they r just annoyed by it so Miguel helps reader out, stupid? Yes, does my eye hurt? Yep😔

i am pumping these requests out like a madman but i just got to yours and this is so cute!! cus i get headaches/migraines a lot so i can relate :3

miguel o’hara x gn! reader (fluff)

you found yourself plagued by a persistent headache, a throbbing sensation behind your eyes that made it difficult to focus. irritation knitted your brow as you tried to alleviate the discomfort, rubbing your temples in frustration.

miguel, always attuned to your needs, noticed your distress and approached you with concern. he reached out, gently taking your hands in his, his touch radiating comfort and support.

“mi amor, it hurts me to see you like this," he said, his voice filled with genuine worry. "please, let me help you." you sighed, feeling a mixture of annoyance and gratitude. "i don't know what to do, miguel. it’s just a constant headache that won't go away."

with a determined expression, miguel led you to a comfortable seat and gestured for you to sit down. he disappeared for a moment, returning with a cool damp cloth. he approached you with a gentle smile and positioned himself behind you, his strong hands massaging your tense shoulders.

his touch was precise and soothing, his fingers working their magic to loosen the knots of tension that had built up. as his skillful hands moved over your neck and scalp, you could feel the stress melting away, replaced by a sense of calm.

miguel's voice was gentle as he continued to massage your temples, his words laced with care. "close your eyes, mi amor, and take deep breaths. let the tension melt away, and imagine a peaceful place where your headache ceases to exist."

following his instructions, you found solace in his touch and soothing words. you allowed yourself to relax, sinking into the sensation of miguel’s hands against your skin. his encouraging words and skilled touch created a serene atmosphere, free from the burden of your headache.

time seemed to blur as miguel’s ministrations continued, his focus unwavering as he devoted himself to relieving your pain. gradually, the pressure behind your eyes began to dissipate, replaced by a growing sense of relief and tranquility.

as you opened your eyes, you were met with miguel’s loving gaze, filled with pride and affection. he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, whispering, "love, i will always be here to take care of you. let me be your anchor and soothe away life's burdens."

you smiled, grateful for miguel’s unwavering support and his ability to bring you solace during trying times. your headache had subsided, leaving you feeling refreshed and infinitely grateful for the love and care that surrounded you.

———

a/n: okay that massage and mini guided meditation though 😩🧘🏽‍♀️

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @meeom @sabcandoit @emiemiemiii

[doberbutts]

Photophobia is almost a disability in its own right. It can be caused by so many conditions, from the most well known cause, migraines to even being a side effect of certain prescriptions. If more establishments had low sensory accessibility options, it could benefit so many people.

And as said, there's physical causes as well. I knocked an eye loose during that car accident- it didn't come all the way out but the ligaments were damaged and it no longer tracked with the other one. You can see the difference in my selfies even today. It also twitches side-to-side by itself, and initially when I would try to track a moving object it would swing wide in a different direction (which hurt a lot btw). I'm positive it's changed my glasses rx but I haven't been able to find the time or funds to go figure that out.

There have been many times that I walk into a room and it immediately feels like someone is stabbing that eye with a screwdriver and it is 100% the overhead light. My own house I have swapped out the lightbulbs to be lower brightness and also I keep them off and just use ambient lighting most of the time for most tasks. But when I walk into a store and I am immediately assaulted by bright lights........ that is when I wish I had an eyepatch or something of similar nature. I usually just walk around with that eye covered or closed if I have to.

When I don't listen to the warning signs I can literally feel it start to bulge out of my head (and friends/coworkers have confirmed that they can see it) and it is so painful that I have debated just finishing the job and clawing my own eyeball out to make it stop.

It's hard to say, is my photosensitivity from the TBI itself, or from the related eye which was damaged during the same impact that rattled my brain around in its casing? Or... both, considering everything else sensory will still set me off despite not being sight-related.

I understand why stores and doctor offices and classrooms etc are so bright. I understand why visual media has as much flashing as it does. I understand that one cannot just put a dimmer switch on the sun. But I do wish that the world could be a little more friendly to those who can't take the assault to their eyes all the time.

[nickfoo]

Idk if this is obvious but I feel like Jack would love Divorced dad music

I had to look this up because I wasn’t quite sure of what it meant. It relates to ‘rock, hard rock and nu-metal bands of the late 90s and mid 2000s’. Some say when searching the topic on Spotify they get stuff that also is around the 70s and 80s classic rock.

(I will say upfront I know next to nothing about music or certain music culture or music tastes other than what sounds good to my ear-holes.)

( I feel like I’m not the best person to ask this but I’ll try! Someone more familiar with music might know better. )

I’m not sure what music Jack likes but the thought of him blasting Creed or something is funny. He seems like the type to wallow in his angst on his own during certain times with alcohol and drugs ( I love a fan head-canon I read that his scar and bad eye cause him pain and headaches/migraines spells and his replacement eye never fits quite right and he ‘self medicates’ as needed ) but not in front of others. (Gotta keep up ‘the image’.) But I could see Jack likes other music that most people think is obnoxious or bad taste or that most people just don’t care for. Then he’d argue on how he thinks it’s the best and everyone else is wrong lol. I could also see him liking the famous classic rock songs of the 70s and 80s that fall under the ‘divorced dad rock’ terms. (Saturday Nights Alright for Fighting hits me first)

If I remember right, Jacks wife died in an accident when Angel started manifesting her siren powers. I think he mentions a second wife somewhere in the pre-sequel and that could be true and Jack being a divorced man somewhere in the timeline wouldn’t be surprising from his character.

[ominous-faechild]

sammy headcanons, pretty please,, fun facts or silly headcanons, i need more sammy content in my life

I'm answering these out of order rn because otherwise I won't get to them in forever. I'm sorry to everyone waiting for your asks to be answered... if you even remember asking, WHOOPS--

I mean, technically they're not headcanons because I'm the writer and I just make any "headcanons" just straight-up canon, but! 🤣

Due to his very specific and special brand of magic, he constantly has plants growing around and on him. It's worse around dirt, so he used to make an effort to completely avoid dirt in order to hide his magic.

The growth rate of plants around him exponentially changes depending on his emotional state! If he's happier, they'll grow at a faster pace. This is another reason they did not grow very often before RFtA. Oh, whoops, that's sad, isn't it? 😉

The growth rates of the plants increases dramatically as he gets stronger throughout the series.

If he sits in a pile of dirt, it would take less than a minute for the plants grow over his lap and anchor him to the ground. Later in the books, they'll grow so fast that they'll basically encase his entire body with that much time. Don't worry, though! They wouldn't cover his eyes, nose, or mouth because they love him! Also, he could literally just magically move them off of him, haha. They'll just be sad their father abandoned them. 🥺

Sammy is constantly basically-freezing cold and wears jackets and sweaters as often as possible. It makes him stand out considering the climate is so hot.

He purposely wears oversized jackets with floppy sleeves. It's one of the many ways he makes himself look smaller/weaker in order to make people underestimate him so he can manipulate them. I'm sorry, it's next to impossible not to get depressing/dark with him!!!

He is smol boi,,, so smol,,, 4'8,,, (but you knew that, lmao. That's for anyone else who didn't know.)

Sammy has heterochromia. One eye is pale blue, the other is dark brown--almost black. Although this is uncommon in most people with heterochromia, Sammy's blue eye is more sensitive and has an astigmatism. He was not born with it.

His real-world ethnicity is equivalent to Latino.

He has ADHD and dyslexia. Yes, kinda like the PJ demigods. No, that was not intentional, haha.

However, he may or may not have been inspired by Leo from HoO... JUST POSSIBLY!!! Hey, man, he's a YEARS-old character. Besides, I bet you wouldn't have been able to figure it out if not for this!!! Yw for exposing my dirty secrets.

In a real-world AU, he'd still have grown up on the streets. Instead, he'd get sponsored by a college by (half) accidentally stumbling on revolutionary medication and treating an otherwise-incurable disease in someone he didn't know was important. Everyone would then be incredulous to find out he couldn't/can't read and literally just figured all that stuff out by himself. #JustSavantThings

If he ended up in our world, he'd be terrified of being caught in a recording (of any kind).

If he grew up in our world, he'd love podcasts and music. However, tragically, he wouldn't listen to them too often because they'd distract him from focusing on everyone else around him.

Less fun, but still facts:

He's unaware of this, but the person he thinks of as his mother was an adoptive parent; not biological. Didn't make her any less important to his life or who he is as a person, but does come to bite him in the butt when he finds out the truth!!!

Sammy is plagued by migraines. He's just long-since used to living with them. However, he's able to use his magic to shut off the pain during emergencies. He's just... not aware of it for the longest of times.

Related to the ADHD: he is a MAJOR stimmer. However, he's too used to controlling himself to allow himself to except for when it serves whichever act he's trying to sell.

I lied. He sometimes allows himself to stim in moments where he's trying to "reset" his brain, aka change the subject or give himself a moment to think. It's not entirely conscious though.

Sammy's magic is unique. The only others with it are his family members. Guess that's a little bit of a spoiler, but oh well, haha. It's not too hard to figure out, and it especially won't be when I explain my magic system more in-depth.

He develops anger issues midway through the first book. At the same time, he gets a massive increase in power. Are those two things related, or just a coincidence? Yes.

He doesn't actually like plants. He feels pretty neutral about them. However, the fact that they're the most ethical and effective way to use his magic makes him keep them around. His joking about liking them is a deflection to avoid explaining he likes having a way to defend himself readily available.

He starts to lowkey hate plants as his magic spikes in power. Due to it occurring at the same time as the onset of his anger issues, the "plants growing over him" thing suddenly goes from "occasionally grows over him" to "basically always on him" and he can't cope with the frustration.

It's especially bad when, later in the series, Sammy runs away from the Knight's College ("flight risk" foreshadowing fulfilled) and he's basically unable to get away from dirt. He gets very angry with them never giving him a break.

Sammy is deeply insecure and thinks he can and has only caused problems in others' lives.

He has a good reason to feel that way, though obviously it's not actually true.

As I've mentioned before, he's a major social manipulator control freak who panics whenever he feels he's lost control of a situation.

He pretends to buddy-buddy up with the villains he can't otherwise beat in order to destroy them from inside. However, this makes his "alliances" seem VERY wishy-washy and focused on his own survival.

Despite that, after the beginning of RFtA, Sammy is incredibly self-sacrificing. He'd rather sabotage his own survival chances in order to help others rather than leave them to rot when he otherwise could've helped.

This is related to trauma in his past.

The only people he won't try to convince he's on their side is the people he cares about. He cares too much, his brain short-circuits, and he just gives up because "he deserves it, anyways".

He hasn't sincerely cried for a long time. Not from lack of emotion, but because he's numb to it.

No matter what, Sammy is one of my few characters who will never purposely kill anyone else. Even the people who hurt him the most, even though he'll hold an incredible amount of rage, he can't bring himself to hurt someone else--much less kill--outside of a life-or-death situation. He's a pacifist who enters fights in order to end them as quickly as possible.

Despite his manipulative tendencies, I would call Sammy a good person. One of the "best" people in all of my writing, honestly. He just got dealt a REALLY shitty hand in life.

Sorry I'm sharing some things you already know, Letters! I'm sharing them with the rest of the world, haha!

Tagging list: @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@aalinaaaaaa and ask and ye shall be added!

[scribeoffate]

Satomi Ito and Transformation

This is written for @teenwolf-meta's Meta May Mondays. Many thanks to @momentofmemory for looking this over for me!

Be aware that there is some discussion of internment camps for Japanese Americans as depicted in s3b of Teen Wolf.

One of the characters I think about a lot when I think about transformation is Satomi Ito. 

We first meet her in The Fox and The Wolf during an interaction with Noshiko. During this interaction, Noshiko offers her some contraband aspirin she’d acquired just for her. I love how touched Satomi seems before she responds. 

Satomi responds that she prefers to suffer, which is one of my favorite lines in the entire show, especially after it’s revealed that Satomi’s “monthly migraines” are actually her way of excusing herself during the full moon. 

During this episode, we watch Satomi transform from a an older woman that seems to have some idea what Noshiko is (the young fox vs the older, wiser animal) to a bitten beta trying to survive in extraordinary circumstances. 

I really love that Satomi thinks of her lycanthropy as suffering- despite what we’ve been shown of various wolves trying to survive the full moon, there’s still this pervasive idea that the bite is, as Derek says, “a gift.” 

Satomi clearly seems to think otherwise, but she also isn’t afraid to use her lycanthropy to her advantage. 

Then we see Satomi transformed- a lot like Noshiko and the others in the interment camp- into someone who has been pushed too far, once too many times when she throws the torch into the angry mob. 

She and Noshiko work together to defeat the Nogitsune- another example of pain and fear transforming both Noshiko and Rhys into people that have been pushed too far and become violent as a result- much like the angry mob outside the gates at Oak Creek. 

The next time we see Satomi is in Weaponized. She appears during a fight in the rain with Deaton, and her eyes are now red. She’s been transformed from a beta to an alpha and from someone who struggles to control her anger to someone who has found solace in the religion of Buddhism. 

I love the interaction with Deaton and have a lot of theories about them being friends. Satomi-san is a familiar form of address, and I love it for them. 

I need to go slightly off-topic for a minute because the show doesn’t give us anything about how and why Satomi becomes an alpha. I have a number of theories, technically each as plausible as the other. 

The Satomi is also a true alpha theory is probably the one with the least basis in canon- though given the age difference, it could have happened nearly a hundred years ago. That might explain her closeness with Deaton and perhaps his ability to recognize a true alpha. 

It is probably more likely that after leaving Oak Creek, Satomi, still angry and violent finds herself in a position where she is forced to kill an alpha and gains the power in that manner. 

One of my favorite thoughts is that she joins a pack after Oak Creek where the alpha is inclined toward Buddhism and learns from them. At some point the alpha becomes injured and Satomi is forced to kill them in order to become the alpha and take over the pack.

Since we don’t know, the sky is the limit as far as guesses go, which is fun. 

It’s also interesting that Satomi’s entrance is in the episode where a virus causes shapeshifters to lose control of their transformation her growth in this episode is total control of her own transformation- which we see when she uses her powers to help fight off assassins in the hospital at the end of the episode. 

We see Satomi again at the end of the assassin arc and continue to be connected to her pack through Brett and Lori. 

The last we hear of her, she has sacrificed herself in a futile effort to save her pack during 6b. We find this out from Jiang and Tierney, two other wolves in Satomi’s pack. An interesting bit about transformation in their arc relates to the Jiang and Nolan friendship. 

I love their moment when you learn that they had been friends once and it really helps with Nolan’s growth in realizing that maybe his recent thought processes require some evaluation. 

I hate that Satomi’s death is off-screen but it allows me to theorize that maybe she doesn’t die entirely, since people often die only temporarily on Teen Wolf. 

Then again, what is death beyond another kind of transformation? 

I don’t know, but since Satomi is Buddhist it is entirely possible she has been reborn into another life.