#but not sleeping well triggers my migraines

[lastoneout]

I was talking to my therapist about some of the things I hate about going to the ER(despite often needing to bcs of all my health problems) and I mentioned that I will refuse to tell them that I have an anxiety disorder unless I absolutely have to bcs the second I do everything from the treatment options to the way the doctors and nurses speak to me immediately changes, sometimes to the point that they refuse to do anything to treat my symptoms bcs "it's anxiety" and I "just need to calm down", and she said something really validating.

Paraphrasing, but basically she said that yes, mental illnesses absolutely have physical symptoms, and sometimes treating the underlying mental causes helps alleviate those symptoms, but that doesn't mean those physical symptoms aren't debilitating and don't deserve to be treated exactly as you'd treat a physical illness or injury. Especially bcs treating the underlying mental issues can take months, if not years, and the people with those conditions don't deserve to suffer horrible physical symptoms in the meantime. It doesn't matter where the symptoms are coming from, brain or body, you should treat them the same, and it's ridiculous to expect people who are suffering to tough it up and go to therapy bcs "it's just a mental illness thing".

Hell, she even said that the physical symptoms of mental illnesses and trauma can be so debilitating they make therapy less effective, bcs it's HARD to address this stuff, and it's even harder if you're doing it while your body is destroying itself.

So yeah, if your anxiety makes you nauseous, you deserve nausea medication. If your anxiety is making your chest or back or wherever hurt you deserve pain medication. If your ptsd is giving you insomnia, you deserve sleep medication. It is critical to your well-being and makes healing easier.

And I have had so many doctors refuse to do anything to help with the very real physical symptoms of my mental illnesses to the point of refusing to give me sleep medication despite the fact that my chronic insomnia is doing real damage to my life and body bcs it's "just ptsd", and I hate to see people in the disabled community continue to perpetuate that mentality. Someone suffering from insomnia caused by some other physical issue leads a very similar life to the one I do, why does it matter where the symptoms are coming from? We have this in common, we can understand each other, we can even help each other, what's the point in pretending otherwise?

Your brain is part of your body, and if your mental illnesses are making it difficult for you to live your day-to-day life then, as far as I'm concerned, you are disabled. Managing mental illnesses and trauma has EVERYTHING in common with managing physical illnesses and injuries. They have everything to do with each other. It's ridiculous to suggest otherwise and idk why people are so determined to do so anyway, to draw lines between our communities, especially with all of the harm that comes from treating mental illnesses like they can't actually fuck up your body.

We have so much in common, and we only stand to gain from coming together and supporting each other.

Anyway yes, people who can X should be accomodating to people who can't X. People who can walk should accomodate people who can't. People who can hear should accomodate people who can't. People who can see should accomodate people who can't. And on and on. When that doesn't happen, it's a problem that deserves to be talked about.

But the problem is not and has never been "physical disabilities are more important and deserve more accomodations than mental disabilities"- nor the other way around either.

People love to dunk on folks with ADD/ADHD but you know? As someone with ADD raised by diabetic parents I gotta say there's a lot of similarities here. People with ADD, myself included, often forget to eat and when they do eat they often load themselves up with carbs and sugars because those foods make their brains feel good. People with diabetes have to closely monitor their meals and often crave sugars and need a blend of sugary and protein-rich snacks on hand. This is not to say ADD and diabetes are exact one-to-one disabilities.

But having grown up watching my parents manage their diabetes, I too am very aware of meal times and blood sugar and constructing meals that will tide you over and having a blend of sugary and protein-rich snacks on hand Just In Case. I am able to manage my ADD better in this way because I have experience from watching my parents. I also need access to snacks and to be able to say to my boss "I need to go eat something real fast" without being punished.

I had a training client who was the image of "able bodied mentally ill" outside of the usual creaks and squeaks associated with age, her body worked just fine. But after a series of incidents in her youth- a car accident that left her with a serious brain injury, coming home from the hospital afterwards to immediately have her house broken into and herself raped by an intruder, and assorted medical malpractice while she was healing from both- she has a serious and extreme case of agoraphobia and spent the next 40 years completely unable to leave the house. She would hide and wail and scream when deliveries of groceries and other goods would come, because it meant a stranger (and usually a man) would be at her door. She could not go more than a couple steps outside to get her mail and especially not if other people were outside.

At some point her therapist suggested getting a pet, one that *had* to go outside, to help her. So she got a dog and contacted a trainer (me) and we got to work. And she did improve! The dog has been a huge help to managing her symptoms! But you cannot seriously expect me to have worked with this woman for years and then belittle mental illnesses as being lesser when this woman also shares the inability to even leave her house let alone go inside a grocery store. Even today there are times when she simply cannot, she cannot will her body to move out of her door and into transportation let alone into the building.

When she first started coming to me she thanked me for not belittling her or making her feel bad for classes she had to cancel because she couldn't force herself to take the first step over the threshold. That is when she told me what happened to her and that while it sounds terrible she was really happy to have found a trainer who knew something personal about trauma and brain injuries. She is also a case where I feel her ESA should be considered service dog not because of training or tasking but because her need is so high and she is just completely incapable of doing anything without the dog in her arms.

Anyway I think of her any time someone says "but you can walk through the door". There's nothing wrong with her legs so in theory sure she could. But often she *can't*, not because of anything physical, but because she is very severely mentally ill.

[wickedhawtwexler]

naurrrr guys i think i know what's causing my migraine auras.... i started taking melatonin last month 😭 rip me getting a good night's sleep i guess

[georgelore]

i actually havent been able to stop thinking about good omens all day and now it's almost 4am and it's like my mind is just straight up refusing to go to sleep because i need to scroll the good omens tumblr tag or i might d

[lunajay33]

Migraine🕷️

Summary: You get frequent migraines but they’ve been mia since the apocalypse but even since you got to the farm they’ve returned but you didn’t wanna bother anyone until Daryl finds you balled up on the floor in pain

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Request by @avrmee

•Masterlist•

Soul crushing migranes were always a struggle to deal with before the world ended, but there was ways to try and relieve them, medicine, piercings, acupuncture but now that it’s been about a year and there was no more medicine or anything really the migraines came back and almost stronger than before

They’d come on when the heat was high and the sun was near blinding, triggering what ever it was in your head to cause crippling pain that no matter how much pressure you applied to your eyes or the amount of water you drank it didn’t matter, but in this world you couldn’t afford to take a day off especially with all the work the others were putting into the prison it was only fair you pull your weight even through the pain

Walking out of prison, opening the door to the blinding white light that was the Georgia sun stung just hoping it didn’t flair up another episode, walking out to the court yard where Daryl was tinkering on his bike you sat next to him

“I missed you this morning” you said leaning your head against his shoulder as he used a wrench against…..well you have no clue but you loved watching him work

“Sorry ya know I’m an early riser plus ya’ve been sleeping lot longer now, ya okay?”

You didn’t wanna worry him and tell him that after these long days of over exerting yourself in the heat that the pain in your head kept you awake late into the night causing you to wake up later than everyone else

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just tired is all, plus I got a beautiful sight next to me at night it’s hard to fall asleep” you laughed poking his side making him gruff out a laugh

“Well I have to go work on the crowd of walkers around the fence, if you need me I’ll be there” I said leaving his side walking down to the entrance gate, using a pole to take down as many walkers as you could working your way down the fence, working for hours when you felt an aura around your head, the groans and snaps of jaws became louder and overwhelming, your knees became weak, you became nauseous as your vision became blurred and specked with black dots, all topped off by the painful pressure in your head

Losing control you dropped to the gravel clutching your head in your hands, knees tucked up to your chest, whining from the pain, this is one of the worst it’s ever been, in the distance you could hear your name being yelled but everything was so overwhelming you couldn’t even process it until the screams got closer

“Y/n baby what’s wrong” Daryl asked holding your body close to his, your head in his lap as he rubbed your back

“It…….it hurts so much” you whined as you clutched your head more wishing for this pain to fade

He just held you for what felt like half an hour trying to comfort me, the walkers noises started to dwindle someone must have came down with Daryl to take them out, you huffed out a breath as the pain subsided a bit giving you enough strength to sit up, seeing his worried expression

“What happened?” He asked brushing my disheveled hair back

“I get this awful migraines, I didn’t wanna say anything and use it as an excuse but they keep me up at night but sometimes they get so bad, like this and I don’t know how to stop them”

“Darlin ya should have said something, we’d understand, I could’ve tried to help ya at night”

“I know how hard you work all day you need your sleep”

“But if yer feeling sick yer more important, promise me you’ll let me help ya”

You bit your lip hesitant not wanting to be a burden

“Y/n” he said sternly

“Okay I promise”

“Good, ya know yer damn stubborn”

“You love me” you said smiling

“Yer lucky I do”

[rogueddie]

Mutual Mixtapes T | 544 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is letting him pick the music

Steve hates metal music. He hates how loud it is, how the higher notes on an electric guitar grate on his brain. He hates how it always triggers a migraine when it's played too long, how it makes them almost blindingly painful when it's played too loud.

But Eddie loves Metal. It always makes him visibly happier, excited, energetic.

As long as he pays close attention to himself, Steve can get through Eddies metal music. He knows that Eddie will turn it off, or turn it down, the second he asks.

It's worth suffering a few mild headaches to see Eddie so joyful.

"Which ones do you like?" Eddie asks him one day, out of the blue.

"I don't know, they're all great," Steve lies.

But Eddie rolls his eyes, tutting. "You hate most of them, it's fine, I know. Are there any that you do like?"

"Uh... that master puppet one that has that line that goes, uh... 'sleep my friend and you will see, the dream is my reality'. That's kinda good. But, uh, I don't like the heavy guitars it gets into."

"So you like the first three minutes, got it. That ones not too heavy for you?"

"It's a little heavy, and that start bit with the high guitar is, like, bad, but it's pretty alright. I like the words."

Steve forgets about the conversation as soon as he gets to work, distracted by Robins rambling and their work.

It doesn't come up again for a few days too, so when Eddie is holding a mixtape and grinning at him, excited, he's confused.

"I made you a mixtape! Well, technically us."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I think you might like it. If you don't, it's ok."

He puts the tape in and, when it starts to play, Steve is surprised. The first song that plays is... nice. It's nothing like the music he's grown used to Eddie playing.

"What is this?"

"It's Black Sabbath."

"This is Black Sabbath? Are you sure?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. It's a short one. Orchid. Thought it'd be the type of song you'd like."

"It is. Yeah, this... it's lovely."

Some of the other songs are edging a little too close to 'too much', but most of them are alright.

When Welcome Home (Sanitarium) plays, Eddie tells him the name and explains how he cut it up so the parts that Steve mentioned not enjoying aren't in it. It ends up sounding a little choppy, but Eddie is proud.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks, pausing the tape when he pulls up outside the new place Steve and Robin are working at.

"So far? Great. Some, um... they'd be better played a little quiet, but I like them. Thank you, for doing this."

"Don't worry. I want you to enjoy music with me, not suffer through it for me."

"Well, I loved that first one."

"Good. I'll try and find more like it."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to."

"Alright," Steve huffs, ducking his head. "Thank you."

Eddie shifts, turning so he can look around them, before quickly leaning over to kiss Steves cheek. "Stop thanking me. Just be honest when you're miserable, ok?"

"Alright."

"Go on then, out, I have another mixtape to work on."

[munson-blurbs]

Chapter 1: Got the News Today, Doctor Said I Had to Stay

Collaboration with the fabulous @corroded-hellfire

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: When you're stuck in the hospital after the Hawkins "earthquake," you're surprised to find comfort in your new roommate, Eddie Munson. But when you find out that your injuries may compromise your dreams, the cheery façade threatens to come crashing down.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, controlled use of pain medication

WC: 3.9k

A/N: There will be six chapters to this series, one for each Jonas Brothers album. Try to spot the Easter eggs we've planted throughout!

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

“I said, get this murderer out of my room!” A shrill voice from across the hall startles you from your sleep. The digital clock on the bedside table reads 7:05, but you can’t be sure if it’s morning or evening. The bright lights of Hawkins General Hospital have your internal clock all jumbled, and the constant barrage of nurses checking on you certainly doesn’t help. 

“He should be locked up in prison or rotting on death row, not using precious resources that could be used on law-abiding citizens!” the shrieking woman continues, and you grimace as your head throbs. It seems like the pain never ceases; it only travels around your body. You’ve been here for two days, and you have more questions than answers. 

There’s quiet for a few moments before the door to your room swings open and a second bed is being wheeled in, more IV lines hooked up to the poor patient than you’ve got going on. A nurse pulls the curtain separating the two sides of the room before you can get a look at whoever is lying in the bed. 

“Well, that was a record,” a male voice says from the other side of the curtain. “How long before that one freaked out? Six minutes?”

No one answers the man, but you can hear nurses and orderlies setting up any equipment the patient would need. 

“Don’t blame them,” a woman eventually mumbles, moving a machine over. “Kid killed a cheerleader and then fled the scene. I wouldn’t wanna bunk with him, either.”

A new pair of footsteps joins the crowded room, but this time it’s just your nurse, Mandy, coming in to check on you. She’s a pretty blonde woman, and though she’s usually smiling, her lips are puckered into a pout. 

“I know this is far from ideal,” she says softly, checking your vitals and marking notes on her chart, “but we’ll have people in here making sure nothing happens, okay?”

“I think she’s pretty harmless, just loud,” you lightly joke, assuming that Mandy’s referring to the banshee across the hall. “Worst thing she’ll do is trigger a migraine.”

She shakes her head. “No, hon. I’m talking about your, uh, new roommate. Edward Munson.”

Well, that explains the whole murderer outburst. Still, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Eddie? I went to school with him. Guy couldn’t even be bothered to turn in his part of a group project; I highly doubt he could pull off a murder.” You’d think he would have had something done, considering it was his second time taking O’Donnell’s senior English class, but he’d shown up empty-handed, leaving his poor partner scrambling at the last minute. 

Mandy nods, looking a little relieved herself. Maybe the thought of her having to be his nurse had been eating at her. 

“Is he awake?” you ask. You can only assume he’s not, because the Eddie Munson you remembered would never have been quiet for this long. 

“Sleeping,” Mandy says. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“Um.” You wrinkle up your nose as you think, a sharp pain taking that moment to shoot down your leg. “When can I get some more pain medication? And food?” 

Going through the papers in your chart, Mandy’s eyes scan lines of writing until she comes to the answer she needs. “You’ve got about forty-five minutes until I can give you your next dose. Luckily, dinner should be here quicker than that.” 

“Okay,” you say with a sigh, sinking back against your pillows. 

After another round of pain meds, you’re able to drift off into a light sleep. You don’t have dreams on the medication; you’re simply floating in a haze of pinks and purples. Perhaps the dreamlessness is a good thing, considering the memories buried deep inside your unconscious mind. Your roommate is not so fortunate. 

“No! Stop!” Eddie whimpers from the bed next to you, startling you from your sleep. You can see through the translucent curtain that he’s trying to thrash, but his injuries limit his movements. “Henderson, help me! Get me out of here!” 

“Hey,” you whisper, but when he cries out again, you raise your voice slightly. “Eddie, wake up!” 

“I won’t run away, didn’t run away, gotta save Chrissy,” he mumbles, still trapped in his nightmare. “Don’t let me die. Don’t wan’ die.” The urgency in his tone falters, and you realize that he’s crying. 

“Eddie, you’re alive!” you call out to him, wishing you had the strength to walk to him and shake him awake. “You survived the earthquake, okay? But you gotta wake up!”

You watch as he jolts up involuntarily, groaning loudly as pain blooms throughout his torso. “Fuck,” he moans, clutching his ribs with one arm. “Wha—where am I? Oh, shit.” He lays back down as the realization sets in. He tries to choke back a sob, inadvertently sending himself into a coughing fit. 

“Here,” you call out to him, grabbing the cup of water on your bedside table. “Can you open the curtain and reach?”

Eddie’s able to yank back the cloth fabric, but neither of you can move close enough for him to grasp onto the cup. The two of you are confined to hospital beds, arms outstretched pathetically just to pass a glass of water. The scene is so absurd that you have to laugh. 

“You think—cough—this is—cough—funny?” Eddie asks, but his grin indicates that he also finds it amusing. “I survived the Up—earthquake, and—cough—now I’m gonna die from—cough—lack of water?”

“‘M sorry,” you manage between peals of laughter. “I’m just imagining how ridiculous we’d look to someone passing by.”

Eddie uses his last bit of strength to lunge, finally securing the cup and guzzling down the water. “Thanks, um…” He cranes his neck to see your name written on the whiteboard above your bed. “Oh, shit! Did we go to high school together?”

You nod. “We did. I graduated last year. We had Mrs. O’Donnell’s English class together.”

He wrinkles his nose at the mention of his least favorite teacher. “Ugh, yeah. I mean, not ugh that we had a class together; ugh at O’Donnell,” he blabbers. “And an extra ugh for me having to take that class again this year.”

“I thought a certain metalhead was missing from graduation,” you tease. 

“Aw, you noticed?” Eddie’s smirk makes you laugh, the pain meds probably adding to your bubbly mood. 

“Well, no one caused a commotion or flipped off old man Higgins, so yeah,” you say. “And there was a distinct lack of Black Sabbath blaring through the parking lot.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Gotta stay inspired, y’know? I don’t want to be one of those musicians who has someone write their shit for them. It makes it less real, or whatever.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “You write all of Corroded Coffin’s music?” you ask incredulously.

Eddie nods. “Well, me and the rest of the guys—wait,” he pauses, eyes narrowing with suspicion, “you know the name of my band?”

“Mhm,” you pick at the itchy wool blanket draped over your legs. “You played at the middle school talent show. I was in seventh grade, so you must’ve been in eighth.”

He doesn’t say anything for a bit; he just studies your face until a huge grin forms from cheek to cheek. “You’re the dancer!” he exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You did that routine with the, um, the fancy shoes…” 

“Pointe shoes,” you giggle. “Yeah, people weren’t too impressed. Apparently a twelve-year-old flailing on stage to Swan Lake was not the hit I’d thought it’s be.” 

“Flailing?” Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, you were amazing. Don’t tell my friends, but I, uh, secretly wanted you to win.”

“Me?!”

“Yeah, you.” He matches your surprised tone, making you laugh again. “I thought it was totally badass, getting up there and doing ballet when all the other girls were jumping around to Blondie.”

“Don’t knock Debbie Harry,” you warn him teasingly, poking your forefinger in his direction. “She is an icon, and you will show her some respect.”

Eddie brings a hand to his heart. “My deepest apologies, to both you and Ms. Harry.” He flashes another sweet smile that could melt an iceberg. “But I really did want you to win. I’ve always rooted for the underdog.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” And you do. It’s nice to know that someone besides your parents believed in you. 

“You, uh, you still dance?” Eddie asks abruptly. 

“Yup,” you tell him, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s actually what I go to school for.”

“Good,” Eddie muses, averting his gaze from your side of the room. “You were too talented to give that up.”

You’re about to respond when there’s a knock on the door and you see an orderly walk in with a food tray. You drop your head back on your pillow, humming your happiness. The orderly sets your table within your reach before placing your tray on it. Before the man can even step out the door to grab Eddie’s food, you’re inhaling the soup you’ve been given. You’re distantly aware as Eddie gets his food, but you’re busy trying to figure out what type of soup it is. Is that potato in it? 

A groan from the other side of the curtain has you looking in Eddie’s direction as you swallow a mouthful of soup.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, clearly lying.

“If we’re going to be roommates, we’re going to have to learn to be honest with one another.”

He huffs a laugh as he clangs his silverware together. “S’just that it’s gonna sound ridiculously stupid after what everyone has been through.”

“Humor me,” you say before ladling another spoonful of soup in your mouth.

“Fine,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I got green Jell-O. I hate that shit.” 

Your eyes lock on your own Jell-O, bright red where it sits next to your piece of bread and cup of water. “How do you feel about red?”

“Much better,” Eddie says, tearing off a piece of his own bread and shoving it into his mouth.

“Wanna trade?” you offer.

“Y’don’t have to do that,” he says through his full mouth.

“Nah, come on,” you say. “Besides, green’s my favorite color.” 

Eddie looks over at you, a skeptical look on his face as he chews. But you pick up your sealed cup of Jell-O and toss it over to him. Smiling, he throws the green in return, which you manage to catch.

“Thanks,” he says. You hum in acknowledgment as you tear off the foil lid. 

There’s a beat of silence as you both eat what Hawkins General considers dessert. “I don’t know how you like the green one,” Eddie pipes up. 

You shrug. “Jell-O is Jell-O,” you say nonchalantly, taking a big spoonful to emphasize your point. 

“Nuh uh,” Eddie shakes his head, wincing at the twinge of pain it causes. “Cherry is the superior flavor, and everyone knows it.” He slurps it obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes. 

“Geez, how does Chrissy put up with you?” Your tone is light and joking, so you’re taken aback by the darkness that takes over his face. “What?”

“How do you know about Chrissy?” he asks, voice barely audible. 

Your face heats up; you’d forgotten that he didn’t know you’d heard him talking in his sleep. “Um, you said something about saving her when you were having that nightmare,” you admit, softening when you realize how vulnerable he is. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No, she isn’t—wasn’t,” he amends. “She was the girl who died in my trailer. But I…I didn’t kill her, I swear.” Eddie looks over at you with misty eyes. “I can’t tell you what happened, but you have to believe me.”

You hold his gaze. “I believe you,” you murmur, quiet but assured. 

The two of you go back to your food, plastic utensils scraping styrofoam bowls, until Eddie speaks up again. “You…you said I talked about Chrissy in my sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“What else did I say?” He looks ambivalent, like he’s unsure if he wants to know what his subconscious mind churned up. 

You think back for a moment. “You asked someone for help, and then you said you didn’t want to, um…you didn’t want to die.” Your eyes flit over to his side of the room, but he’s practically boring a hole in his Jell-O cup with how intently he’s staring at it. 

“Did you tell me to wake up? That I survived?” He finally allows himself to make eye contact with you, a trace of a smile dancing on his lips. 

“Yeah—I can never remember if you’re supposed to let the nightmare end naturally, but you seemed really upset.” You gnaw on your lower lip anxiously. 

Eddie rests his head on the pillow. “God, this is gonna sound corny as hell,” he starts, chuckling to himself, “but when you did that, it was like…I saw brightness, y’know? Not like, Eddie, come into the light,” he drops his voice an octave and wiggles his fingers, making you giggle, “but like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds. Does that make sense?”

You nod, watching him exhale in relief. 

“Guess you’re my sunshine then, huh?” He gives you a shy smile that you easily return, trying to push down the spark of electricity that seems to flow between you. 

“Hey, how about this?” Eddie asks as he lands on a channel. Your eyes feel like they’re going to roll back in your head when you see a NASCAR race on tiny television.

“Absolutely not,” you answer. 

“Aw, come on,” Eddie says, shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s an American pastime.”

“It’s one big left turn, is what it is,” you shout. “Toss me the remote?” Eddie chuckles and goes to throw it your way before you wince and add, “Watch the leg!”

He’s careful to avoid the area as he sends it your way, but his eyes drift down the blanket at the mention of your limb. “Is that why you’re in here?”

“No, I’ve always wanted to vacation here,” you reply, maintaining a deadpan expression. 

“I hear the eleventh floor is just wonderful this time of year,” Eddie throws back, feigning a posh British accent. Terribly, you might add. “How bad is it?” he presses, motioning towards your leg. 

“Dunno yet,” you answer honestly. “They took some x-rays and did a bunch of scans; now I’m just waiting for the doctor. They’re probably just overwhelmed.”

Eddie nods. “Nothing like a good, old-fashioned earthquake to shake things up.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to react to his pun. Nothing. “Oh, c’mon! That was a good one!”

“You’re a comedic genius, Eddie Munson,” you joke, and he flips you off, nearly snagging the IV tube pinching his skin. “I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll probably be in a cast for six weeks, maybe have to do some physical therapy. This isn’t my first broken bone.” 

“How do you do that?” Eddie muses. 

“Do what?” 

“Be so…positive,” he explains sheepishly. “I mean, you could be all bitter or anxious, but you’re calm, cool, and collected.” He fiddles with his fingers, frowning as though something is missing. “You really are a ray of sunshine, huh?”

“That’s me.” Truthfully, you’re worried that this could be more than just a run-of-the-mill break, but you don’t let that fear seep through. Instead, you aim the remote at the tiny TV in the corner of the room, settling on a soap opera rerun. It’s not what you’d usually watch, but you’re determined to get your revenge for his NASCAR escapades earlier. 

To your chagrin, Eddie’s enthralled with the on-screen drama. “Oh, shit!” He rubs his hands together. “Is this the one where Shelby sleeps with Theo and his identical twin brother, Mark?” He chuckles at the bemused look on your face. “I got hooked on this show when I was home with the flu last year,” he confesses, though he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed. 

“Eddie Munson, secret soap opera aficionado?” You waggle your eyebrows. “Scandalous. What will your fans think?”

“I am what I am, Sunshine.” He sits up a little straighter as a woman with big hair and even bigger breasts shoves ultrasound photos at an impossibly handsome man. “No fuckin’ way!” Eddie gasps. “She’s knocked up!”

“How did you not see that coming? It’s like the oldest trick in the book!” you ask incredulously. “Now she has to figure out which brother is the dad.”

Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes widen in shock. “But they’re identical! How’s she gonna do that?”

“Guess you’ll just have to watch and find out!” you chirp, giggling as he lets out an impatient sigh. 

“Mr. Munson?” a nurse calls from the doorway, pushing an empty wheelchair. “We’re ready to run your tests. Just have to transfer you to the chair.” She pats the back of it, trying to keep some level of professionalism, but you can tell that she’s nervous being around an alleged murderer. She holds out her hand to help Eddie out of bed, and he shoots you a tight grin. 

“I’m goin’ commando under here, Sunshine,” he warns you. “Look away. This show ain’t free.”

You cover your eyes dramatically as he plops into the chair, grunting and groaning the whole way down. “Is it safe?”

“You’re good,” Eddie reassures you as the nurse starts to wheel him out of the room. “Hey, let me know who the father is when I get back. My money’s on Theo.”

You narrow your eyes. “How much money?”

“Hmm,” Eddie taps his chin with his forefinger, pretending to be deep in thought. “It won’t be as much as usual, since I already bought a beach house and a Jaguar this year…$3,000 sound good?”

You give him a little salute, turning your attention back to the show. Settling in against the pillows, you get immersed in the show yourself, rooting for some characters, and wanting some to get stabbed in the backs like they deserve. Just as it comes back to Shelby’s storyline, your doctor walks in, a tight smile on his lips. 

“What’s the news, Dr. Sanoj?”

“Well,” he says, looking down at the chart in his hands. “Like we suspected, it’s your femur. It was crushed pretty badly. It’s going to need a few pins in it, which will require some surgery.” 

Letting a deep sigh fall from your lips, you nod your head. “Okay. Was kind of expecting that.” 

“Now, we won’t know for sure until we get in there and take a look at things, but there’s a chance you’ll need a mobility aid to help you get around.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brows pinching in confusion. “Like crutches?”

“Crutches are one type of aid, yes. But they range in variety. It’s things like wheelchairs, walkers, canes. But this will be a better discussion for once we see how the surgery turns out,” Dr. Sanoj says.

“Would I need to use one forever?” The sympathetic look that softens your doctor’s face lets you know he heard the trepidation in your voice. “Will I be able to dance again?”

“Like I said,” Dr. Sanoj says, “this discussion is best for once the surgery is done.”

You nod your head, knowing you probably won’t be able to get any further information on the subject out of him. “When will I have the surgery?”

“Scheduling is going to work that out and they should let you know by the end of the day. You can expect to be here the days following the surgery, but you shouldn’t be cooped up in these hospital walls for too much longer. You’ll get there, you’ll see. One day at a time.” 

“Thank you, Doctor.” 

A funk has taken over you once Dr. Sanoj leaves the room. A mobility aid? Could you dance with one of those? Surgery and recovery you planned on, but the goal was always to get you back in the dance studio, and needing a device to help you simply get around was not what you had been expecting. 

Allowing yourself to stew in your own self pity for a few moments, you realize you’ve missed the big reveal on which brother is the father of Shelby’s baby. You’ll have to tell Eddie that. Explain the doctor came in and you were talking to him. But, you think to yourself, Eddie doesn’t need to know just what rough shape your leg is in. He calls you his sunshine, doesn’t he? That would just bring some gray clouds that he did not need in his life. He’s got a lot going on and is going to need to keep his spirits up. That’ll be easier for you to do if you pretend like everything is rainbows and lollipops. 

The door opens and Eddie is wheeled back inside, groaning in pain as he holds a hand over his ribs. 

“Right here with the pain medicine,” Nurse Mandy says, stepping in behind him. 

“Oh, please be mine,” Eddie says, watching the bundle in Mandy’s hands like a hawk. “Sorry roomie, I think I need it more than you do right now.”

“S’all yours,” you tell him.

Mandy sets a bag of IV fluid up as the transporter helps Eddie get back in bed. His face is pale, and you’ve learned that comes when agonizing pain is ripping through you. 

“Okay, Mr. Munson. Should start hitting you at any minute now,” Mandy says. 

“Thanks,” Eddie says, letting his eyes drift closed. He stays that way after both the nurse and the transporter leave the room. You think he’s fallen asleep until he speaks again. “So, which brother was it?”

“Ah, sorry, Eddie,” you say. “Doc came in and I was talking with him, so I think I missed it.”

“Good news?” Eddie’s opened his eyes and turns his head to look at you, genuine concern written across his face. 

For a moment, you contemplate spilling everything: the surgery, the mobility aid, the possibility of never dancing again. But you shove it deep down, determined to keep your cheery disposition that he so desperately needs. “Y-Yeah, everything’s looking ship-shape.” Ship-shape? You’re a terrible liar, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Thas’ good shit.” From the dreamy quality his voice is taking in, you can tell the pain meds are starting to take effect. 

“How’re you feeling?” you ask.

“Sore as hell from how they had to maneuver me for x-rays. But I feel the medicine kicking in.” A smile comes to his face and you can tell the giddiness of the high is hitting him. “Time for me to fly.”

You giggle and turn your attention back to the television. A game show is on now, so you snuggle in to play along. The contestant is getting an obvious puzzle wrong and it makes you roll your eyes. You’re about to say something to Eddie about it, but then his soft snores reach your ears. Turning your head to look at him, you notice how peaceful he looks. All you can do is pray he stays that way and isn’t plagued by any other nightmares. 

Sunshine, he calls you. It’s the nicest nickname you’ve ever been given. You’re hoping you can keep that bright and optimistic attitude up enough to help him out when the clouds come rolling in. It’s not a one-way street, though. Eddie is going to be your light, your breath of fresh air, your optimism. You just don’t know it yet.

--

[russellsppttemplates]

Hi, can i request a blurb about pierre where his gf suffers from chronic migraines? :( i need this in my life

Note: if you suffer from migraines, I hope you're feeling better!

Cw: migraines and theyr symptoms, emergency room

Work mixed with travelling to enjoy the last few moments alone with Pierre before the season began, which brought you very little sleep triggered a massive migraine. Pierre found you in your shared bedroom with all the curtains closed and covers pulled around you, already assuming you hadn't been feeling that well since you asked him for some painkillers on his way home from his training session.

"Amour, what's wrong?", he said at his regular voice tone that, right now, seemed like he was screaming, the groan you let out concerning him even more as he approached you. Searching for his hand on the mattress, you spoke quietly, "I'm having a terrible migraine", you explained, Pierre weighing out your options and opting to get some flannels from the bathroom a little soaked in cold water and resting them on your head.

"Do you want some snuggles? I don't want to make it worse for you though", he whispered, "yes, please. Just let me lay on this side so it doesn't hurt as much", you whispered back, having managed to drink the tea he made for you and appreciating how his fingers kept running lightly through your hair, his kisses on your head attempting to help the pain.

When morning came around and you were bent over the toilet, pouring the little food you managed to keep down out and the meds didn't seem to be working, Pierre took matters into his own hands, "I've seen your migraines before and they're never this bad", he said.

"Call Dr. Martin, her contact is on my phone", you whispered, wiping your mouth while he went to call your doctor. Coming back to you, Mick laced your fingers in his, "Dr. Martin said that we should go to the ER, she's on call today and can see you", he said, earning a small nod from you as he helped you to the bedroom.

Sitting you on the bed, he helped you rid of your clothes, his touch delicate and soft as he helped you change out of your top and into one of his comfortable hoodies and one of your sweatpants, "all done, my love, c'mon now, gently", he said as he helped you make your way downstairs to the car and carefully drove to the hospital.

The admission was pretty quick and after checking you, you were prescribed a stronger medication and while you waited for it to kick in, Pierre was holding you against him, checking every now and again with you on how you were feeling, giving you your juice and encouragung you to drink a little bit, his lips not leaving your skin for long as he peppered little kisses where he could reach.

When you were back home and feeling a lot better, actually able to keep the homemade soup down, you were cuddling on the sofa, your smaller headache allowing the quiet lullaby of one of your boyfriend's playlists to actually soothe you as you tried to show him how thankful you were for him, "I love you and I only want you to feel good, I'd do whatever it takes to make you feel better", he whispered lovingly.

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

[newwritergirl]

Starting over | Part 9

Part 8 | 7 | 6 | 5 | 4 | 3 | 2 | 1

Summary: The relationship of the three former roomies develops further. But the bad memories of y/n's last realtionship make it difficult for her to believe that she's really good enough for Jake and Bradley. But sometimes it only needs a brave aviator to take the lead.

Trigger warnings: 18+!, past abusive relationship, reader has migraines and health issues, reader has a scar, mentions of previous assault, au and probably ooc, angst, protective Rooster and Hangman, poly relationship, it gets steamy.

A/N: I tried to make a small summary for this new chapter. Hope you like it. Please reblog if you like my work 🙏😇

Word Count: 2.7k +

It's so warm, not uncomfortably warm but the kind of warmth which feels like a cuddly home. The softness of the sheets and the mattress is like lying on a cloud, that kind of pleasant touch which makes it hard to get up. Before she is even fully awake, y/n smells a sweet masculine odor, so soothing and calming that she would've fallen asleep again. She slowly opens her eyes, silky brown locks, slightly tousled are spread on the pillow she's resting her head on. Bradley, these are Bradley's beautiful locks. Warm steady breaths are hitting her left shoulder. When she turns around she looks directly into the beautiful and peaceful face of the other aviator. His features are completely relaxed, a small smile on his lips like he's having a very pleasant dream. So, the conversation she had with her two roommates last evening wasn't a dream. She's really lying in bed with these two overly gorgeous men. She takes a deep breath to calm her racing heart. It makes her nervous to be near Jake and Bradley but on the other hand she's never felt so safe and calm. This is so weird, how can she feel calm but has a racing heart? This morning almost feels magical.

She gently crawls out of the huge comfortable bed, cautious not to wake the two sleeping men up.

---

Strong muscular arms are enveloping y/n from behind when she is currently preparing coffee for her and her… well how should she call Jake and Bradley? Boyfriends?

A warm and naked chest is pressing into her back, caging her between himself and the kitchen counter.

"Good morning, shortcakes. Why're already up? Rooster was all whiny as he didn't get a cuddle after waking up." Jake breathes into her ear, his voice still thick with sleep and his warm breath making her shiver. He kisses y/n's cheek but slowly turns her around to see her cute and probably flustered face.

Her face grows warm and her cheeks get a slight pink blush. She looks up into Jake's warm eyes but soon her eyes lands on his delicious looking lips. Jake closes the distance and presses his soft lips to hers. A quiet moan is leaving his mouth. It feels so warm, soft and familiar, although it's so new. The feeling frightens the young woman a bit, but she enjoys the feeling of Jake's muscular arms around her and his lips on hers. His hands travel down her body and cupping the back of her thighs. As if she weights nothing he lifts her up and sits her on the kitchen counter. During their heated kiss Jake notices by now that Bradley is out of the bathroom and in the kitchen. The brown haired pilot envelopes his arms around his blonde friend and enjoys watching Jake and y/n share a long and passionate kiss. Still standing behind Jake Bradley leans a bit over the other man's shoulder and reaches out to the small woman sitting on the kitchen counter. With his warm he cups her head and runs his thumb over her flushed cheek. When she feels a third hand on her cheek she opens her eyes and looks directly into his warm brown eyes.

"Good morning, princess. You slept well?" He whispers as he takes a step beside Jake to get closer to y/n and before she has the chance to answer him he also steels a kiss from her plump lips.

Still sitting on the kitchen counter with both her boys in front of her she suddenly grows really shy and also a bit embarrassed.

"Hey princess. Don't get shy on us or are we moving too fast. Please talk to us."

At Bradley's words the flushed woman looks up and sees the two beautiful pilots standing before her.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not too fast. I - I' m just hoping that this is not some cruel dream and I'm about to wake up alone. I'm happy we had the talk yesterday." Y/n can't help herself when a wide smile is spreading across her face. Has she ever been so happy like right now? Probably not. She reaches out and grabs one hand each of the two men in front of her.

"There is the beautiful smile we fell for the first time we saw you." Jake presses a soft kiss on her small hand which holds his in a firm grip.

"What do you think, princess. We take you on a date today. Just the three of us."

---

Their first date was even better than y/n would've ever dreamed of. There was a small fair near Miramar, so Jake and Bradley decided that this would be the perfect start of their Date-Sunday especially after they discovered that she never has been on a fair before. They made it their key task to show y/n that she's the most precious thing for them. To give her the attention she deserves. The whole afternoon was full of smiles, soft touches and shy kisses. It was the best day y/n had in her entire life. She never had a boyfriend this attentive, loving and protective. So she couldn't believe that she now has two men who seem to like her. With her abusive ex she only has bad memories of being in a relationship and in the last corner of her mind she has the huge fear that Jake and Bradley sooner or later are going to be fed up with her. Sick and tired of her emotional baggage, the nightmares or her health condition which can worsen any minute. And there's the uncertainty with her body. Of course she is a beautiful woman. She knows that she looks acceptable. But her scar on her lower back is a prominent reminder of her past and she can't help but feel ugly when she looks in the mirror and sees the remnant of her past relationship which always reminds her of the words and actions of her ex. For her ex she wasn't a princess, cupcake or shortcakes. There were no cute and lovely pet names. She always was the worthless and stupid girl. His words hurt as much as his fists. So the whole situation is really new for her, she tries to shut out her bad memories, to not think about the possibility that Jake and Bradley soon will also see that she's not worth all of that.

---

The week was crazy to say the least. Y/n had to install a new security system after one of the new recruits lost his transponder. The Admiral was furious and the whole base was under lockdown. The young woman worked overtime every day and today was no exception. When she finally comes home she was beyond exhausted, a dull ache building behind her eyes.

She takes off her shoes and her coat and follows the music which greeted her the moment she opened the front door of the shared house. She craved a slow weekend since the week started but when she finally gets to the source of the commotion she stands in the doorframe of the fitness room the two aviators equipped, so that they not have to hit the gym but are able to exercise at home whenever they want, she was wide awake.

Y/n's eyes go wide. Of course she often has seen her roommates work out at home but since last week the whole situation changed. They're now dating and she still can't believe why these overly attractive Naval aviators choose her to be their girlfriend.

Their sweaty topless chests are glistening in the evening light which filters through the windows. Muscles bulging from the high weight they're lifting. Small moans of exertion can be heard over the music. She can't take her eyes away from that sight. She's watching Bradley lifting a ridiculous amount of weights, his back muscles more prominent than ever, a drop a sweat making its way down from his neck getting caught in the waistband of his shorts.

"You like what you see, cupcake?" She suddenly hears Jake's voice. She got caught. Her checks are already a bright shade of red when she turns to her side where the cocky pilot is smirking down at her. Her gaze lands on his glistening chest further down to his grey pants, which let little to imagination what he hides in his boxer briefs.

"Eh - I - I didn't want to - I " She can't form a coherent reply whether it's because out of embarrassment or something else, she doesn't know.

Jake softly cups her cheek and gives a kiss to her warm cheek.

"Hey princess. You sneaking up on us?" Bradley winks at her as he strolls in the direction of his two partners.

"Yes, I mean no. Ehm, I was just a bit surprised?" She's making a complete fool out of herself and she knows it. But damn, she's just a girl and seeing these two hunks makes her brain melt into a puddle.

"Surprised how damn sexy we look while sweating and moaning lifting weights?" Jake laughs.

"No need to get shy. We're just two sweaty morons. The real star of the house is you, my beautiful cupcake."

Okay she needs a shower and that fast. They wanted to take it slow, but how is she supposed to go slow when the two men are half naked moaning and sweating during their workout.

---

The shower somewhat helped her to calm her racing heart. She knows that seeing her boyfriends half naked, heck even naked, should be more than normal for her. But the small voice in her head is back. They will turn you down sooner or later. You're not enough. Look at yourself all broken and bruised.

She stands in front her full length mirror in her bedroom in just a sports bra and leggings, her fingertips touching the scar on her back. She knows that Cora was right. It is ugly. It's nothing but ugly and even if she's a beautiful woman that will always be the reminder how she failed her last relationship. What did she wrong that her ex treated her that bad? Wasn't she good enough? Why did he hurt her constantly emotionally and physically? Why did it end in her nearly dying? Her breathing starts to quicken as a tear is making its way down her cheek, followed by more until a constant stream of tears are wetting her flawless face. But in her eyes she's so far away from being flawless. She's damaged goods. Her ex hurt her soul and the big scar on her back is just a daily reminder how damaged she is. Her legs start to shake until her knees go weak and she collapses onto the cold hardwood floor of her bedroom. A desperate sob escapes her lips as she buries her tear soaked into her small hands.

---

Their sport session was long over and both Jake and Bradley already had their refreshing shower. It is Jake's turn to cock for them today but Bradley volunteered to help him, so that y/n doesn't have to wait any longer for the warm meal, probably her first real food today. Both know how crazy this week was for her and they even tried to coax her into leaving the base early today. After all she worked the whole week over hours, but she wanted to get that new security system ready and safe today, so that the base is finally secured again.

The house was quiet except for the light chatter of Jake and Bradley and the occasional clatter of pans and pots. A loud thud lets both men stop in their tracks. They look at each other quizzically.

"What was that?"

"Came out of Y/n's room. Princess you good?" Bradley shouts in the direction of the closed bedroom door. The two men grow concerned when there is no answer from their girlfriend.

Jake hurries to the closed door the brunette aviator hot on his heels.

"Y/n? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

They instantly find her in the dark room and their concern only grows when she doesn't answer. She's shaking so violently that the first thought of Bradley is that she has once again a bad fever.

"Sweetheart, look at us. What's wrong?" She slowly takes away her hands from her face when Jake once again addresses her. Her attempt to brush away the remains of her tears is useless when both men kneel in front of her, looking at her intently reading her like a book. She knows she can't keep anything from the both protective pilots and she's afraid to anger them by lying to them, so she takes her courage in both hands and talks to them.

"I feel like I'm not good enough for both of you. He - he damaged me. Emotionally and physically��" with her last words her right hand finds its way to her back, touching the scar one more time.

"Princess…" Bradley gasps at a loss for words. How can she be not enough for them? She's the most beautiful, kind and lovely woman he has ever met. She is so much more and far away from damaged. Heck, both men nearly need to be physically restrained when cuddling with her. She's cute and sexy, she's just perfect.

"When I saw you two earlier working out… You two are perfect. Not only your bodies but when I saw you all sweaty and… sorry I'm once again embarrass myself." She tries to explain her problem, she really tries but soon into her words she gets shy and looks at her lap.

"Cupcake, come on look at us. Don't you ever be insecure around us. You're the most beautiful woman both of us ever had. You can't imagine what you do to us." He affectionately kisses her head. "We want you to be our girlfriend, in every way…" and with his cocky Hangman attitude he winks at her.

Y/n lets herself sink into Roosters arms who is sitting behind her. The tall brunette stroking her back gently until his hand is hovering above her scar. He bends down and starts to cover it with soft kisses. His soft lips are leaving a trail on her scar. Her heart explodes with how loved she feels right now.

Jake gets closer to her ear. His warm breath against the shell of her ear makes her shudder even more.

"You see what you do to us? You sitting here in you sports bra and your leggings… you don't need to wear fancy lingerie to play with our heads." He takes one of her small hands in his and brings it to his broad chest, stopping right above her his heart. Y/n feels the rapid thumping in her hand.

"You feel my heart? You make it race like that y/n." Jake goes further in testing the waters. He guides her hand further down his chest, let her feel his muscles flexing. She lets out a small nearly inaudible moan. The sensation of Bradley showering her with kisses and her hand on Jake's warm chest getting nearly too much for her. There's a new feeling pooling deep in her. A feeling she missed for so long. She never felt it so intensive ever before. When the blonde aviator finally stops both their hands in his lap, he lets out a moan. She drops her gaze where her and Jake's hand is resting. When she sees the bulge in his pants she frees her hand and softly strokes over the now very prominent bulge. Jake closes his eyes as he feels the gentle touch of the beautiful woman in front of him. How he craves that touch for weeks.

Bradley cradles her smaller body into his chest, him stopping the soft kisses makes her whimper. The loss of his soft lips too prominent. "Let's get you up, princess. It's getting cold on the floor." He whispers into her ear and without further warning Jake scoops her up into her arms and lays her gently on her bed.

"One word and we will stop, y/n. There's no pressure." Bradley says while looking her deeply into her eyes.

@djs8891

@megalony

@darksparklesficrecs

[yandere-kokeshi]

Hi love hru anyways this has been on my mind all day Yandere dad ghost with a kid who has chronic pain or constant migraines

— Yandere Dad-Ghost with gn kiddo who suffers from constant migraines

Warnings: yandere behavior, descriptions of migraines, and mention of marijuana.

A/N:  I'm well, hru?! And I decided to go with constant migraines, enjoy :)!

Everything Platonic, nothing romantic!

He just wants to hug you and take it all away. He’s had his fair share of a migraine, especially with cluster headaches; during or after work. This said, he ensures to care for you and treat you like a baby for how long it takes until it goes away.  

No matter how long you’ve had this, he’s worried like a mother hen. He’s the type of person to never show it, and even if you can’t read his expression at all, you can see it in his actions. On his days off, he’ll pick you up from school, and take you home whilst planning on making your favorite food for dinner. 

Every effort he makes is for you and for making you feel better — staying home and clearing his schedule, talking in a soft tone and not wanting to aggravate your head more. He cooks you food and makes tea that’s easy for you, and limits the time for any electronics. 

Dad! Ghost knows that migraines have triggers, and he’s confident in trying to find it out. And if he does, he tries to reduce the intake of it. If it’s food, or a certain ingredient, he tries to avoid it. 

Stress? He’s immediately searching for the cause. Sleep deprivation? He’s having you go to bed earlier, and if he has too, he’ll sleep with you so you can have the right amount of sleep. 

With reducing the pain, he’ll have you try out temperature therapy or get you prescribed Maxalt. Using OTC pain relievers, acupressure massages, and dark spots for relief. Having you lay down in his bed and large blanket, covering the windows and using a white-noise fan to help you fall asleep. 

He’ll go as far as take you to a cardiologist in case it’s a hidden heart issue; and if he reads well with you, he’s even willing to experiment with pot and CBD. 

At times, you worry yourself. Everything can become too much, and you stress about school — Dad! Ghost tells you not to worry, and he does everything himself; emails to your teachers, and does your homework himself. 

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[lastoneout]

I don't really know exactly why I'm posting this, I guess I just want to share my joy, but y'all...the nerve block worked. My migraine went down a little over the night so I was only at like a 1.5-2 but I swear to god the second they were done EVERY SINGLE PART of my head stopped hurting. The only pain I'm feeling rn is at the injection site and a smidge in my jaw, but that's not a huge deal bcs I know the steroids take a long time to do their thing and I usually have pain around the injection site when they do this in my back, plus I did already suspect something like 10% of my migraines aren't entirely due to my neck, but like...it worked. It fucking worked.

I've been living with chronic migraines my entire life, and in the last five years, they've gotten so bad that I can't work and have to cancel streams and hangouts with friends all the time. I have migraines more days than I don't and I've never been able to find out what my trigger is aside from not sleeping well and eating lays potato chips(rip I miss them so much) or gluten or being on my period?? and on some days I'm in so much pain I can't even feed myself or shower. 8-10 is the norm, they don't go lower on their own, they NEVER go away on their own, no matter how much time I spend lying in bed in the dark with icepacks on my face. My migraine rescue meds don't always work, or they work for a day and then it comes back, and I seem to be fucking Immune(tm) to Excedrin and ibuprofen. All that together has legit been ruining my entire life.

And I am not even a little ashamed to admit that once they were done and asked how I felt I broke down sobbing in the exam room because it WORKED. Instantly. Years of pain and agony and no help from my doctors, of blaming a medical condition that treatment hasn't fixed, telling me to limit screen time and lose weight, forcing me to try 50 different medications none of which help, of spending long nights in the ER hoping they can fix me even though it's typically a 50/50 chance....and now it's over. I don't have to do that anymore. They fixed it. They fixed it.

I'm crying right now as I write this. I never thought this was possible. Like I believed that it was my neck and my doctors agreed, but I was so worried that this would all be for nothing, I didn't think it would work, I know most disabled people dream of finding the One Thing that's causing all their problems even though most of us never do, but I guess luck decided to smile on me this day, this is what's causing my problems and it's treatable. It's over. I found the path out of this hell and it was the right one. I don't even know what to do, what to say. I'm so happy I can't even be happy, all I can do is cry because the hardest part is over.

There's still work to be done, but the path is clear. And honestly @ any gods that are listening, please grant this to my fellow disabled people. They deserve to feel this, we all do.

[time-woods]

Hello, I was wondering since your always drawing if you had any tips for getting eye strain? My eyes get strained from staring at my tablet drawing and I get sleepy and sometimes even feel sick, thanks!

yes ! ive been struggling with this for a while as well- (ive recently found out that the headaches n stuff ive been having were ocular migraines with a scotoma))

id been having migraines like that off and on for the past few weeks and i decided to look into it, and now ive set aside breaks in my computer/ screen time. I either do some traditional art or just anything else to do with my hands like crafts, or go outside for a while, generally just taking a break from my screen, and i havent had one be triggered in a while ! thats what works for me, but there can be different triggers for headaches n stuff.

figuring out things to help out with this is honestly a life saver for me- cause whenever id get headaches like this that lead to the migraines id literally just have to call it quits for the rest of the day cause i couldnt see anything properly and i got so nauseous after the headache past i couldnt do nothin but sleep, so yea ! i highly recommend taking screen breaks !

[cherriegyuu]

midnight regrets | bsk

pairing: seungkwan x f!reader genre: angsty kinda? but also fluff maybe? (drunk confession) word count: 848

this is part of my series, seventeen as songs from lover (ts)

Seungkwan ➝ Death By a Thousand Cuts I get drunk, but it's not enough ’Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby ↳ in which Seungkwan drunk calls you, his ex, and finally tells you all the feelings he kept to himself for months.

The clock on your phone told you it was just past four in the morning. Your insomnia had gotten to you yet again and this time it seemed like it had decided to stay. You did everything you were supposed to, ate better, avoided certain smells and foods that could trigger a migraine that could cause insomnia, but none of it seemed to matter. 

In the last couple of days, you only managed to get a total of 5 hours of sleep. It was a wonder in itself that your brain still functioned, poorly of course. 

With a groan, you turned on your side. You just wanted to sleep, like a normal person, for a few hours. Was that really too much to ask? 

Your phone started to vibrate on your bedside, the blue light suddenly pulling the room out of its complete darkness. No one in their right mind would call you in the middle of the night. Not because you would get angry at them but because no one calls anyone at four in the morning. 

Even if the number calling you wasn't saved a contact, it was one you remembered all too well. It was impossible to make your heart stay calm, to keep quiet. But your brain was telling you that there was something wrong. 

It had been almost six months since you and Seungkwan broke up. After the final words had been said, you never saw him again. You returned his things to Vernon and he had left yours with your doorman. You stopped following him on social media and deleted his number. 

The breakup hadn't been bad, per se. When you finally got down to it, you simply realized that you wanted things that Seungkwan didn't seem willing to give to you. 

When you told him that you wanted to break up his only words were "If that's what you really want, I won't do anything to stop you from leaving"

It hurt so much because you felt like he didn't care at all about you and it was clear that your relationship had come to an end way before you finally decided it was time to. 

Truthfully, you were still healing and you knew that taking that call was probably a bad idea. But what if something was wrong? What if he was in some kind of trouble?

After taking a deep breath, you accepted the call.

"Hello?"

"You weren't supposed to take the call," he said with a whine, words slurred.

You settled back against the pillows, relief flooding your body. Nothing was wrong, Seungkwan was just drunk. 

"Was I not? But you called" 

"But you shouldn't have" 

You could see him pout, eyes closed, and furrowed eyebrows. You couldn't hold back the smile that spread on your lips. 

"Why did you call, Seungkwan?"

There was a pause and a sigh. 

Seungkwan always looked cute when drunk, though all of his friends would disagree with you. It was easy to hear to distinguish Vernon's voice saying he called yn and Chan's oh he's drunk drunk.

"I miss you so much" he cried "Did you know that? Every single day I wake up and you're the first person I think about. Sometimes something happens and it's so trivial but I want to call you and tell you about it. And sometimes I wonder where we went wrong and I know isn't an us problem, it was a me problem. It wasn't you because you weren’t perfect for me but I wasn't perfect for you. And I…"

You covered your mouth as if it would be enough to suppress the sound of your small sobs.

"I didn't want perfection, Seungkwan. All I wanted was you"

He whined again, a cry left his mouth and you swear that he fell because the next you heard was Chan's exasperated dude, be careful. 

"I should have said something that day but your words hurt me, so I let my pride take over. I should have asked you why, at least. I do know why but maybe if I asked I would have come up with some sort of argument. And then you returned my things to Vernon because you didn't even want to see me. And you unfollowed me everywhere and I bet you deleted my number. Because you always said hi baby, when I called or Seungkwan? if you were worried. I miss you so much and I love you so much. I want to try again, can you give me another chance? Hm?"

Seungkwan wasn't the kind of drunk who couldn't talk, who was hard to understand. His words got a little slurred and he talked a little bit slower but you could understand every single one of them. His desperation was obvious.

"You're all I ever wanted. I'm sorry I can't say it sober"

You closed your eyes. Maybe you would regret your words but you still wanted to try, even if you and Seungkwan were destined to fail.

“If when you wake up you still feel the same way, we can”

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[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Last Steve Harrington Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Hello my loves. This chapter was very difficult to write and it is very heavy. If you have no triggers please continue to the story. If you do have triggers please read the warnings carefully. I do not want anyone to be hurt by my story. I'll put a brief synopsis under the tags.

Trigger warnings: depression, suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide

---

It was late in the night; their plan had been set and there was nothing left for them to do but sleep. As if they could. As if it was that easy. Steve was on his back with Eddie tucked into his side. He stared at the ceiling. He hadn’t slept well in days but his body still refused to rest. Even though there was no immediate danger he thrummed with tension and apprehension. He had this terrible feeling –

“I have this terrible feeling it might not work out for us this time,” Eddie whispered against his neck and Steve clutched him tighter against him. His heartbeat quickened at Eddie’s words, at the confirmation that he wasn’t the only one feeling this sense of doom. They had been too lucky. Over and over, they had planned and they had fought… but they had been lucky. The problem with luck was that it always ran out eventually. He just had to hope that it would hold out one more time.

“It’ll work out,” he whispered back just as quietly. Trying to reassure himself and Eddie. It had always worked out for them before…and it would again… it had too.  

Steve awoke quietly that morning, rising out of the dream and into his new reality without blood or red skies. It felt wrong. He deserved to wake up screaming from his nightmares. Steve hadn’t known how terribly he had lied to Eddie that night. Hadn’t known what awaited them the next day. How badly it did not work out. Another betrayal, another failure.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and rested his hands in his lap. He turned them over and looked at the scars and callouses he had gathered over the years – the memories carved into his skin. He brushed his fingers over the bite on his left palm. Remembered ripping the bat away from Eddie and it latching on to him instead. It had torn a chunk out of him, leaving behind an ugly mess of scar tissue when it healed.

Light was already shining in the window and he could hear movement throughout the house. He got out of the bed and stood quietly for a moment, taking in the sounds. Joyce was in the kitchen and he could hear a shower running in the bathroom. Turning, he looked at the back of the mirror. Steve hadn’t looked at himself since his first night in the house. He walked over to it and turned it around; his stitches had been removed yesterday and he was curious how he looked.

The man that stared back at him was one he was starting to recognize. His eyes weren’t as sunken and there was some colour in his cheeks. The scars across his body stood out starkly, however. Jagged lines and bites of torn away flesh. Trauma that had begun in ’83 and never stopped – only escalated. A small scar was mostly hidden in his hairline, courtesy of Billy. A thin line wrapped around his neck from a Demobat, almost unnoticeable unless you were looking for it. His torso was a canvas of healed pain – with scar tissue covering his sides in large chunks. They had been too healed for the doctors to do much. Claw and bite marks from his most recent wounds had been tidied, the skin was still red but the lines were clean now and the stitches gone. Other small scars ran down his arms and legs. He had nerve damage in three of his fingers from the bat bite and he was partially deaf in one ear. Migraines and nightmares plagued him constantly and it was difficult to meet his own eyes.

Broken.

He stared at the man in the mirror for another moment before turning it back around. Closing his eyes, he brought his hand up to his chest feeling his heartbeat. Opening his eyes, he strode to his dresser and pulled out clothes for the day. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Robin had said about Other Steve in the bathroom a few nights ago. There were differences in their stories, especially from high school but everything about Scoops and after had seemed the same – just swap Robin and Eddie. It was the sameness that he couldn’t get out of his head. He needed to figure out the moment of divergence that caused them to have such different endings.

He needed to talk to the kids; out of the people he could reasonably discuss all of this with, they had known Other Steve the longest. It’s not like he could walk up to his parents and ask them for his life story. He was afraid to see the kids again though and especially afraid to learn more about Other Steve. He had to though – had to face it and them. He just didn’t know if he was ready.

When he walked into the kitchen, Joyce was at the stove and Eleven and Will were sitting at the table eating breakfast. He sat down with them.

“Good morning, Steve,” Joyce said as she put a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. The kids smiled at him; mouths too full to speak.

“Morning,” he replied quietly.

Chatter continued around him as he ate his breakfast. Hopper came in, hair still wet from his shower and took a seat at the table. Steve’s appetite had been returning slowly and he gave Joyce a small smile when she put more bacon on his plate. It was a lovely morning but Steve still had to fight the urge to scream and ruin it.

He cleared his throat and turned to Will. “Could you radio everyone to come over? I’d like to talk.”

Will looked surprised but he nodded. “Sure, Steve.”

---

Dustin showed up first.

He must have left his house as soon as Will got off the radio with him, he was there so quickly. Steve was in his room when the doorbell rang. He set his book aside and waited. Hopper brought Dustin up a moment later, showing him into the room and then leaving. Steve got up from the bed and they stood facing each other. This was the first time Steve had really looked at him. He was taller than he remembered, older. A ballcap was pushed down over his curls and Steve wanted to take it off and ruffle his hair. In another universe, he would have. His heart clenched painfully in his chest.

“I’m sorry about the code red,” Dustin said, breaking the silence.

Steve thought about what to say in response. He knew that Dustin hadn’t meant any harm. Thinking back to the panic he had felt in the moment though, Steve couldn’t deny that he had caused harm. He could tell that Dustin knew that though, his eyes glancing away and back to Steve’s.

“It’s alright, Dustin,” he finally answered.

“I won’t do it again. I promise.”

“I know.”

That got him a tentative smile.

“I brought some stuff for you,” Dustin said coming closer and pulling his backpack off his shoulder. “Some books and movies, snacks and things you might like. Will said you’ve been reading The Hobbit over and over. I brought you the The Lord of the Rings.”

“The Lord of the Rings?” Steve asked.

Dustin nodded. “By the same author, it’s a sequel to The Hobbit… sort of –” He trailed off, walking over to Steve’s bedside table and picking up his book.

“It was my Dustin’s,” Steve said quietly.

Dustin examined it closely before he opened it to the first page. Written in the right corner was ‘property of Dustin Henderson’ in a looping, childlike script. He could see Dustin’s hand grip the book tighter.

“It’s the same as mine,” he said in an awed voice, “the handwriting and placement, it even has the same rip in the cover.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know how to talk about parallel universes and why some things seemed to carry through and others didn’t.

“Thank you for the books, it’ll be nice to have something new to read.”

Dustin put The Hobbit down and turned to smile at him. “I can’t wait to talk about them with you! Steve wasn’t much of a reader. Who’s your favourite character? What’s your favourite part?”

Before Steve could even begin to think of a response to his questions, the doorbell rang again. Dustin was still smiling at him, waiting for him to answer, but Steve definitely couldn’t handle an exuberant Dustin one on one.

“We should go down,” he said instead, “and see who that is.”

Dustin didn’t seem disappointed as he turned towards the door and they both went downstairs. Will was already letting Max, Lucas, and Mike in when they rounded the corner into the living room. Eleven was standing off to the side and Dustin was just ahead of him. It felt like a moment out of a horror movie as the six of them all turned to look at him. It was the first time since the hospital they had all been together. His gaze slowly went around the room, taking each of them in. His kids; beautiful and alive and… not his. He felt on display as they all looked back at him. He crossed his arms across his chest as he felt the panic start to rise.

Will clapped his hands and all eyes turned to him, allowing Steve a moment to breathe.

“Everybody downstairs!” he called out.

“Hi, Steve,” Max said smiling as she walked by him.

“Steve.” Lucas nodded at him as he followed her.

“Hey,” Mike said.

Dustin went too and then it was just him, Will and Eleven. He ran his fingers through his hair. This was a bad idea; he wasn’t ready for them all. It already felt like too much, their eyes too heavy.

“Are you okay?” Eleven inquired.

He took a deep breath and nodded – he needed to get this over with. Will started walking over to him as a knock sounded on the door. He went to open it and Steve saw Robin and Eddie standing on the other side. Will moved back so they could come in and he closed the door behind them. Robin came right over and gave him a quick hug and a peck on his cheek. 

“Harrington,” Eddie said and… it hurt. Steve thought the way Eddie said his last name would always hurt.

He tried not to show it as they went into the basement. It was Steve’s first time seeing it. There was a big comfortable couch and chairs surrounding a television and a huge table at the back of the room with DnD stuff completely covering its surface. Everyone was getting settled so Steve went to sit down in one of the empty chairs. He fiddled with his hands as he waited for everyone to get comfortable.

“What did you want to talk about, Steve?” Dustin asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Now was the moment. Back out or keep going? He needed to know what was different about him. He wouldn’t have peace until he knew what the defining moment Other Steve had that he didn’t. He needed to know.

“Tell me about him,” he said. “Tell me about Steve.”

Shared looks went around the room before Dustin started speaking. He settled in and listened intently to the story of Steve Harrington.

---

At the end, Steve was surprised. At least in terms of the kids and The Upside Down, their stories were the same. There was still a lot of his early life that he was missing though. They were looking at him intently, waiting for him to get his thoughts together, waiting for him to speak.

“A lot of it is the same. Except the end, obviously…” Steve trailed off.

“What were you like in high school?” Eddie asked suddenly, looking at him intently. He had asked the same question in the hospital. Steve hadn’t answered then, but for some reason the question really mattered to Eddie.

“I was a sort of popular I guess, friendly with everyone and no one tried shit with me or my friends. I was on the swim team but wasn’t the star by any stretch. Most days I hung out with Nancy, Jonathan and Barb. Got closer with the kids in ’83 when everything went to shit. I wasn’t the best at school but Nancy helped me pass. Me and Eddie became friends at Scoops and Robin joined the group after Vecna killed Chrissy in her room.”

“What about Tommy and Carol?” Eddie questioned.

“What about them?”

“You weren’t friends?”

“Why would I be their friend? They were assholes.”

The room was very quiet. They all looked at each other. Back and forth.

“So, no King Steve?” Robin stressed.

He shook his head. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Eddie and Robin took over the story, filling in a big missing piece from the kids’ retelling. Robin had mentioned a bit of what Steve had been like in high school, but they told him the rest of what they knew of him then. The popular jock who ruled the school, the bully who didn’t care about anyone else. By all accounts a mean asshole. Robin told him what happened with Nancy and Jonathan and how Steve had been introduced to The Upside Down. How he could have left, could have avoided all of it… but he went back. Then getting closer with the kids… and then the rest.

King Steve. The first key difference then…but it still didn’t explain why. Why would being ‘King Steve’ make a difference in their ending when the moments before were so similar? Why? Why? Why?

“… I still don’t understand why you want me here. I’m not your Steve. I’m a goddamn coward and I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t deserve to have any of you.”

“There are echoes, Steve,” Dustin said earnestly. “Parallel universes. Not divergent, parallel. There are going to be differences, some of them big – like you living – some of them small – like your favourite colour or something – but a thread is going to weave through them all. You said yourself that most of the big things are the same. You’re not a coward.”

Steve couldn’t help but shake his head at his words. Dustin got up and stood in front of him, he waited until Steve met his eyes before he asked, “did you help Nancy and Jonathan against the Demogorgan?”

He hesitated a moment before he nodded.

“Did you help me look for Dart and defend us at the bus?”

He nodded.

“Did you fight Billy and go into the tunnels with us?”

Steve could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him. Heavy. So heavy. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes. He nodded.

“Did you get tortured by the Russians and help us defeat the Mind Flayer?”

He nodded.

“Did you fight with us against Vecna?”

He stared up at him, eyes hard, but Dustin refused to look away – looked back at him just as hard until Steve finally nodded once.  

“How does any of that make you a coward, Steve?”

“Can’t you see how that same thread was leading up to a predetermined moment where I was supposed to die protecting one of you? I spat in the face of destiny and my family suffered the consequences for it.”

More looks around the room, a question going around that no one would be blunt enough or cruel enough to ask. But they didn’t have to ask it. Steve knew what the question was. The question he had been dreading since they had torn him out of his universe and told him that every other Steve Harrington had died a goddamn fucking hero. He remembered the fear. Fear for himself and for everyone else. How chaotic everything was once the battle had started, how immediately the plan went to absolute shit.

“I don’t know why I didn’t. There wasn’t a moment that screamed ‘if I step in front of that blow, then Eleven can take him down, or if I lead away the bats, they’ll have a chance to do something.’ I was scared… Everyone was failing, struggling, and I – I could see that we were going to lose and I just…didn’t want to die,” he finished quietly, ashamed. He turned away; he didn’t want to look at them. Didn’t want to see the disappointment or the pity in their eyes.

“I don’t know what made me different from all the other Steves. I don’t know what they saw during the final battle or how they knew what to do to save everyone. I don’t know.” Steve put his head in his hands and cried. He had been afraid and he didn’t want to die, there was no other answer. No absolution. No justification. No forgiveness.

Dustin’s hands gripped him and pulled so Steve’s head rested on his shoulder. His arms came around him and he whispered, “it’s okay, Steve,” over and over. But Steve shook his head… because it wasn’t.

“So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings,” Dustin whispered into his hair as Steve tried to breathe.

But Steve wasn’t the snow. He was the fire and the dragon.  

---

Steve didn’t like to go out during the day, finding the sun too bright, too much. Leaving the house at night felt safer, more comfortable. He was used to the darkness. The sun was something he thought he would never see again – and was now something he denied himself.

Steve wandered the streets, lost in thought. The kids had left after he had stopped crying, he could tell they wanted to stay but Eleven and Will convinced them to go. Robin had stayed for longer, but he wanted to be alone and she had left too. Eleven and Will tried to get him to watch a movie but he told them he was tired, spent the rest of the day in bed but couldn’t sleep. He had left as soon as he knew everyone else was sleeping. He didn’t know how he would ever be able to face any of them again. He didn’t want to. Didn’t want to see the pity and sadness in their eyes – didn’t want to feel the weight of their memories and expectations anymore.

Steve tried to remember the last time he had been happy – truly and peacefully happy – and the moment that came to mind was when he thought he was dead. When he thought he was in heaven, reunited with his family. When he thought everything was over and he could finally rest. He wanted that feeling back. It was all too hard and he didn’t know how to let it go – the anger, the pain, the guilt. He was drowning in it. He had clutched those feelings tightly to his chest when he thought they were all he had left, but now they were suffocating him. But worst than the anger or the pain or the guilt was the fucking hope.

It was trying to wriggle its way in and he couldn’t take it. It hurt worse than anything he had ever felt before. The hope that he could live a happy life here… but…

His kids were dead and it was his fault.

His kids were dead and it was his fault.

His kids were dead and it was his fault.

How could he ever let himself be happy when his kids were dead? How could he ever move on and live when his kids were dead? So, the hope had to die too. He didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t accept it. Couldn’t let it in. He had to atone. Had to make the sacrifice he didn’t make the first time and set everything right.

Endings.

Endings.

Endings.  

The quarry was quiet when he arrived, though an angry wind kicked up around him as he stood at the ledge. The stars shone brightly and it was a beautiful night to die. If there was a God, he would be reunited with his family when he died, even if he was in the wrong universe. He prayed that his soul would know where to go, that it would find them. He felt bad about leaving the kids here – but they didn’t need him, he didn’t know why they thought they did. Other Steve had taken good care of them. They would be fine. He hoped that they would never find his body, would believe that he had simply… left.

He looked over the edge, at the long way down. The fear he had always felt in the presence of danger was silent for the first time. All he felt was peace. He was going home.  

Steve took a deep breath, looked up at the stars, and raised his foot.

Part 7

@just-a-tiny-void @mx-jinxous @child-of-cthulhu @goodolefashionedloverboi @awholedamnmesstbh @phoenix0bird @queenie-ofthe-void @bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @hbyrde36 @a-gae-af-racoon @nailbatandfreak @newtstabber @novelnovella @meela86 @lenathegay @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries @espressopatronum454 @r0binscript @seths-rogens @fruity-nerd @sani-86

Synopsis: Steve hits his lowest point after learning about the life of Other Steve. He is tormented because he believes that learning about his life only confirms that he is a coward who failed his kids at the moment he should have saved them. Nothing in Other Steve’s story explains why their endings are so different. He is tired of his guilt and wants to rest with his kids, he goes to the quarry and contemplates jumping.

[cuddlepilefics]

Put your head on my shoulder

Fandom: Ateez

Sickie: Yunho

Caregivers: mainly Mingi

Prompts: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”

TW: emeto

@whumperless-whump-event

No one’s POV.:

Yunho knew he wouldn’t have a good day when stay started their dance practice that day. Facing the mirror, weird flashes of light hit his eyes and made him wince. He knew those funny spots in his vision, had seen them many times before. They were a telltale sign of an impending migraine, so he forced down a protein bar before swallowing some medicine. If he took it early enough, it might ward off the worst of it. Yunho knew he wouldn’t get anything done once it hit, so he was determined to give it his all now to allow himself rest later. There was no point in telling his friends yet, he could still speak up once the pain started to interfere with his work.

Mingi knew Yunho better than anyone else and picked up on his hyung being quieter than usual. When he bumped the older with his shoulder and asked if anything was up, the dancer winced, shaking his head. “I’m tired”, he chuckled, hoping the younger would accept his lie. The worst was, that he was supposed to lead this dance practice, so it’d be hard to hide his struggle from the members. They’d need him to teach them well or else they wouldn’t be able to keep up with their schedule. Luckily, most of the members were still sleepy too, so they didn’t notice… for now.

It went pretty well at first, though the aura lingered the pain didn’t come and Yunho functioned pretty well. Sure, his balance was a little off and he tripped a couple of times but they were able to laugh it off as plain clumsiness. Slowly the loud music blasting from the speakers got to him though and finally triggered bursts of pain pulsing with the beat of the music. A pained crease was etched onto his forehead and didn’t fade when Hongjoong decided they should take a break. Seonghwa handed Yunho his water bottle and whispered: “Are you feeling okay, Yunho-yah?” The younger nodded but grimaced when the movement sent a jab of pain through his skull and made his head spin.

Yunho was nothing but determined, so if he had his mind set on something, he wouldn’t let anyone stop him. Not even Mingi, who worriedly watched him stumble over and over again. The rapper was under no illusion, being sadly far too familiar with his friend’s headache-face to miss the signs. He was only a little surprised when he offered Yunho some painkillers. “Thanks but I already took something when we got here”, the older admitted quietly, “Is it really that obvious? I thought I was dancing well.” – “Hyung, you’re always dancing well”, Mingi sighed, “It’s more that you seem unwell in general, quiet and withdrawn with a tense look on your face. Your eye bags are quite impressive and you having a headache was a lucky, or rather unlucky, guess.” Drawing a shaky breath, Yunho bit his lip and whispered: “Not a headache, Mingi-yah. Had an aura earlier and now the pain is setting in.” – “Well, fuck”, his dongsaeng cursed, “The music isn’t helping, huh?” A look into Yunho’s eyes told him that his guess was spot-on.

“You know that you should tell Hongjoong-hyung, right? It’s risky to practice when you have a migraine. You could hurt yourself when you get dizzy and uncoordinated”, Mingi frowned, knowing that it wouldn’t be the first time, “Why don’t you take a sick day and go back to your dorm, sleep it off?” Rubbing his face, Yunho mumbled: “Someone’s gotta teach you guys and I can still function.” He noticed the look his dongsaeng gave him and added: “I know you don’t like it, Mingi-yah, but we’d fall behind schedule if I took a break right now. I’ll try to hold out for a few more hours, so we can go over everything together and by the time I’m completely out of commission, the rest of you will be able to practice on your own.” – “Please speak up before you end up hurting yourself, even if we haven’t gone over everything by then”, Mingi warned, shooting Hongjoong a look.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa didn’t catch the short conversation between their dongsaengs but Mingi’s worried and the fact that they were disagreeing about something, was enough to confirm their suspicions that something wasn’t right at all. They didn’t have to wait all that long to finally learn what it was. Yunho was supposed to do a spin while changing positions but immediately crouched to the floor, hit with a wave of vertigo. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get his bearings while his stomach turned. Seonghwa’s hands were already on his shoulders, ready to catch him when the dancer clamped his hands over his paling lips. Suddenly, everything was quiet except for Yunho’s ragged breaths. Someone must’ve stopped the music. The sound of the trash can being set down in front of him sharply cut through the silence, the oh so glorious silence Yunho had been yearning for most of the day.

“It’s okay, Yunho-yah, we got you”, Seonghwa whispered, gently pressing down on his dongsaeng’s shoulders to make him sit. Not daring to open his eyes to the bright ceiling lights, Yunho shook his head and lowered his hands. He wouldn’t throw up. He just needed to take a few deep breaths to calm his twisting stomach because throwing up was out of question as his head felt like it’d explode from the strain if he didn’t manage to fight it down. Sluggishly pushing away the trash can, Yunho drew his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on them, partly to shield his eyes and partly to relieve some tension in his neck. He could hear his friends whispering but was too focused on not letting the nausea overwhelm him to focus on what they were saying.

Seonghwa still rubbed his back, despite his shirt being soaked with sweat, well, he assumed it was Seonghwa but couldn’t say for certain. The lights were eventually turned off and it grew quiet once again. Hongjoong had stepped out to arrange a ride back to the dorm, while San, Wooyoung and Jongho tried to call disperse to give Yunho space. Only Seonghwa, Mingi and Yeosang remained close by in case Yunho needed anything. Drawing a shaky breath, the dancer blindly started to feel around for the trash can and straightened up when someone nudged it into his hand. He tried to focus on Seonghwa’s hand on his back to distract himself from the pounding on his head but it could only work for so long. Someone took his free hand and gave it a soft squeeze. Yunho would recognize this hand anywhere, having known it for years. He returned Mingi’s gentle squeeze as he swallowed. He didn’t want to be sick.

Mingi was impressed that Yunho had managed to battle wave after wave of almost unbearable nausea and despite two hard gags, hadn’t thrown up. The older had used to get violently ill every time he had a migraine, so this was a first but Mingi decided not to question it. He was mainly glad that Yunho was hanging in there. Hongjoong had been able to clear not only Yunho’s schedule but also Yeosang’ and Mingi’s. Mingi was a given, being Yunho’s closest friend and the most experienced when it came to the dancer’s migraines, and Yeosang being his dorm mate arguably knew best where they kept their medical supplies. Considering the time when Yunho had thrown up on their manager’s shoes before passing out, Hongjoong probably shouldn’t have been so surprised about how easy it was to clear two members to take care of him.

It most definitely took both, Mingi and Yeosang, to drag Yunho to the car, the older suddenly unable to coordinate his long legs. Seonghwa’s foresight had resulted in both of them having a plastic bag and a travel pack of tissues stuffed into their pockets. Sure, the ride to their dorm wouldn’t be long and Yunho had been more in control of his body than any of them had expected but the eldest didn’t want to be lured by a false sense of security. Good thing he wasn’t because Yunho broke into a sweat as soon as Yeosang had buckled his hyung’s seatbelt and Mingi eased the dancer’s pounding head down, lowly whispering: “Put your head on my shoulder.” Though hesitant, Yunho swallowed and rested his head on his best friend’s shoulder, weakly patting his pocket. Mingi got the hint and retrieved the plastic bag. Clutching the bag in his clammy hands, Yunho felt a little safer, though barely.

Right as they pulled into the building’s garage, Yunho lost the battle he had fought for so long, lifting the plastic bag to his ashy lips in a panic. The first gag was immediately productive, a large wave rushing up his throat. Some even came out of his nose and he groaned in pain, grateful for the strong hand on his arm steadying him. Yeosang’s gentle hand drew slow, soothing circles on his back, at least somewhat distracting him from the pain when his stomach seized again. “Almost over. You’re doing so well”, Mingi whispered, holding his best friend steady while the older threw up repeatedly. Yunho barely caught a break in between, the plastic bag in his hands growing heavier so quickly. It seemed his stomach could only calm down once he was empty.

Gasping for air, Yunho’s breath caught in his throat. He coughed harshly, black spots clouding his vision. Yeosang carefully took the bag from him, afraid the dancer was going to pass out. It wouldn’t be the first time. Mingi’s grip on Yunho’s shoulders was tight and secure, though it loosened a bit once he had helped the older lean back into the seat. Yunho panted, squeezing his eyes shut against the vertigo. He was slowly catching his breath but the spell had taken a lot out of him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he winced when he heard the crinkle of Yeosang tying up the plastic bag. Pulling out a tissue, Mingi gently dabbed across his best friend’s forehead before drying his tears. With another tissue, he wiped Yunho’s lips and breathed: “You tell us once you’re ready to go up to your dorm.” It was only then that Yunho noticed that the car had stopped moving. “I think I’ll go ahead and throw this out already. Might be able to set up some stuff and… I can close the curtains?”, Yeosang mumbled, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. Mingi gave him a small nod, mouthing: “I got him, hyung.”

Mingi sat with Yunho, the dancer’s head resting on his shoulder, while Yeosang already hurried up to their shared dorm. Yeosang had disposed of the bag on his way upstairs and quickly washed his hands before turning on the kettle. He prepared a pot of ginger tea in hopes of quelling his hyung’s nausea and while letting it steep, he closed the curtains. Wanting to get as much prepared while Yunho was still resting in the car, he quickly spread a towel over the other’s pillow and set a bucket next to his bed. Anything that he didn’t have on the ready would mean them moving around later, which would inevitably aggravate Yunho’s headache no matter how carefully they moved, so Yeosang already placed an icepack on his hyung’s nightstand before checking on the tea.

Swaying softly on his feet, Yunho hung onto Mingi’s arm, partly for balance and partly because he couldn’t stand to keep his eyes open. Though Mingi promised him that they were quick, it felt like it took them an eternity to get to the right floor, the elevator ride making his stomach flutter. The younger must’ve noticed the blood draining from his face because as soon as he had unlocked the door, he dragged him to the kitchen sink. It was their closest option and a truly lucky one at that because no sooner than he gripped the counter, Yunho was retching again. Yeosang, though a little startled by the way the two had barged in, was by their side in an instant, helping Mingi steady their friend. There was barely anything left for Yunho to bring up but he couldn’t stop his stomach from trying to turn itself inside out. Spotting the cutting board he had left on the counter while preparing the tea, Yeosang hurriedly cut off a thin slice of ginger and tapped the back of Yunho’s hand. “Here, try to chew this”, he whispered worriedly, “Might lessen the nausea.”

Yunho had wanted to argue that he could not possibly chew anything right now, already gagging every couple of seconds, but he was also desperate for it to stop, so he popped the slice into his mouth and bit down on it, trying to breathe slow and steady through his nose. Though he pitched forward with a closed mouth gag, he slowly regained control of his body and weakly leant against the counter. Yeosang handed him a glass of water to rinse his mouth with and whispered: “Your room is all set up, so as soon as you feel ready to move, you can go and lay down, hyung.” Taking a couple of moments to calm down and even sip some water, Yunho waited till Mingi had taken off his shoes and returned to help him with his. He doubted he’d be able to bend down right now.

Once Yunho’s shoes were removed too, Mingi helped him to his room and gently tucked him into bed. The rapper carefully draped the icepack over his friend’s forehead and whispered: “Do you want me to sit with you?” – “For a bit?”, Yunho rasped, linking his fingers with Mingi’s. Yeosang popped in for a short moment, bringing Yunho’s tea and requesting: “Get me if either of you needs anything, kay? I’ll give you two some space but I’ll just be in my room.” Mingi nodded and mouthed a ‘thanks’ before turning his attention back on Yunho. The dancer was already knocked out though.

[dw19791967]

That Feeling Part 2

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual), OFC Tyler

Warnings: language, unrequited love, angst, unwanted kissing, depression, anxiety, and feelings.

Trigger Warning: This fic contains discussions of depression and anxiety and feelings that go along with those. If that could be triggering for you I would skip out on this one. It is based on some experiences I have had in real life.

*All mistakes are my own!

I apologize for this taking forever!! I have had some things come up plus been busy with work. I think there will two more parts after this one. Make sure to read part 1 to understand this part!

-Layla

*I do not own this gif.

I had finally made my way back to my room a little after 11 that night. Dean had held me and tried to calm me down the best he could. I told him I needed some space and he understood. 

I slept like crap. Kept replaying the event in my head over and over again. How could I be so dumb. How could I let this happen? Why did I have to react like that? 

I woke up around 8 the following morning. My eyes were still puffy when I looked in the mirror. I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I decided it was time to get dressed. I changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt. I made my way to the kitchen to get something to drink. 

“Hey Y/N. Dean and I went and grabbed your car from that bar earlier this morning.” Sammy greeted me with a slight smile. I figured that meant Dean had told him what had happened. 

“Hi Sammy, thank you. I appreciate it. ” I looked at him. I’m sure he could tell I had been crying. I brushed it off. I went to the fridge to pour myself a glass of tea. I warmed it up in the microwave. Hopefully this would help calm my nerves. 

“Where’s Dean?” I moved to sit down across from him at the table. 

“He went out, should be back soon.” He paused. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m here to listen, you know, you don’t have to handle this on your own.”

“Not right now Sam. I kinda just want to forget for a bit ya know? I slept like ass.” I placed my hand on his. “I do appreciate it though.”

I grabbed my glass and stood. “I think I’m going to lay back down for a bit, have a migraine.” 

“Y/N….” Sam moved to stand as well.

“I’ll be ok Sammy, promise.” I looked at him with a sad smile.

God I hope I will be. 

________________________________

Dean’s POV:

I ran to get some of Y/N’s favorite things. Tea, chocolate, ingredients to make tacos, bubble bath stuff, and her fruity girl drinks. It always amused me that she hated beer. To quote her “who wants to drink something that tastes like warm piss?”. 

I carried the stuff into the kitchen. 

“Hey she got up to get some tea but headed back to her room. She said she didn't feel like talking.” Sam moved to help me put the stuff away.

“I figured. She told me last night she needed some space but I also know that's code for "I will need you to remind me you care at some point.” I’ll check on her after I put this stuff up.” 

“Go ahead, I got it.” 

I moved down the hallway towards her room. I hated that this happened to her. She’s told me about her past and it wasn’t pretty. It scares the crap out of me that sometimes humans are the worst type of monsters. I wanted to beat the shit out of every son of a bitch that had hurt her but she said it wouldn’t be worth it. It kills me inside that she thinks she isn’t worth it. She is beautiful, a badass, says what she thinks and doesn’t give a damn if it offends you, and has a heart of gold and would do anything for anyone. She has saved me more times than I can count in the short time I’ve known her. I couldn’t imagine my life without her. I can’t tell her this especially right now. I know she needs to get her head on straight. 

I reached her door. “Sweetheart?” I knocked gently.

___________________________

Y/N’s POV:

I had laid back down but of course couldn’t sleep. I laid there for an hour tossing and turning. Then I took some meds for my head. I guess crying and lack of sleep equals a huge ass headache. I couldn’t stop my mind from reeling. Maybe I deserve to feel like this? I mean I’m not perfect. I have made mistakes in my life, maybe this is my punishment? I have always struggled with depression and anxiety. Of course it got worse as time went on, especially being a hunter. I had managed to keep it under wraps pretty well until now. Now all the bad times are brought back to the surface. The boys don’t deserve to have to deal with my broken ass. Maybe it would be better if I left and spent some time on my own.

I felt my phone buzz below me. It was a text.

Tyler:  

Hey Y/N just wanted to check on you. I’m really sorry about how last night went down. I just thought that was what you wanted, especially since I had mentioned stuff before and you didn’t say anything. Anyway I am heading out tonight, want to meet up again? Maybe we could have a redo of last night and talk things out ;).

Shock was the polite way of describing how I felt reading his message. I needed to end this.

Y/N:

Tyler, I have thought things over and now realize I should have stopped talking to you sooner. Making lewd comments about my body, discussing being naked, telling me we were strictly friends, ignoring me when I needed a friend. There were a lot of mixed signals on your part. I guess me telling you that we could see where our friendship takes implied I wanted more and for that I apologize. This whole situation has made me realize that  I need to work on myself and put myself first. So this will be the last message you receive from me. Do not contact me again and please lose my number. 

I deleted the messages and blocked his number. I wanted a clean slate. 

“Sweetheart?” Dean was knocking on my door softly. 

“You can come in.” I moved to sit up slightly.

He made his way into the room. Seeing his face made me feel a little better. 

He sat down at the end of the bed by my feet. 

“I’m not going to ask how you are doing because I already know the answer. I went to the store and got some of your favorites. Is there anything you would like to do today?”

“I appreciate that De, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know” he said with a smile.

“I would really like to sleep, I’m still exhausted but can’t get my mind to turn off. He messaged me, tried to apologize and get me to meet up with him again. I told him no and that I needed to put myself first. I told him I didn’t want to hear from him again.” I played with a string on my quilt to distract me from his inevitable reaction. I knew he would be pissed. Pissed that the idiot had the balls to message me, pissed that I didn’t tell him to take a flying leap.

“I’m proud of you for setting the boundary Y/N, that is a huge step.” He reached for my hand. 

Wait, he wasn’t pissed? Who is he and what has he done with my Dean?

“I figured you would be pissed at me for messaging him back.” 

“I mean does it piss me off that he thought it would be a good idea to message you? Of course. But I also know you needed to tell him the effect this had on you. You need to be able to move on, I would never be mad at you for doing that.” He moved his thumb back and forth across my hand. He always knew how to comfort me. 

“I appreciate that you have done more for me in the last 24 hours than I could have ever expected or asked of you. You don’t have to keep doing things for me ya know?” I looked up at him now. God, those eyes. He could ask me to rob a bank for him and I probably would. 

“I’m doing these things because I want to. You are my best friend, my girl. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. I’m here because I want to be.” He looked into my eyes and smiled. 

“So you didn’t answer my question, what do you want to do?”

“I’m not really sure, I know I’m not up for being around a lot of people. I kinda just want to go for a drive and listen to music, try to get my mind to think of something else ya know?” I said. 

“If that’s what you want to do then that is what we will do. Get your shoes on Sweetheart, let’s go.” Dean smiled.

[v3nusxsky]

Hello my love, I hope your day is going well. I have another agere prompt idea for you, sweet one.

Idea: Nat x r. Everyone gets bad days, and you were no exception. R smd nat have been together for 4 years now and knew eachother like the back of their hand. And from the moment nat and r woke up this morning, nat new r needed to slip. But, r being the stubborn ding dong she is, didn't listen to Nats advice and tried to carry on throughout her day like nothing was wrong. The key word is tried. The slightl headache r woke up with steady progressed into s full blow migrain by midday. R's head was throbbing and it was like someone was taking a baseball bat to the back of her head. And try as she might, r just couldn't finsh all the tasks she had set out to do today. And as Nat came back to their room on the avengers compound after a full morning of meets with the others, she found r on the sofa all currled and and crying. Instantly Nat new what was wrong, so she ever so gently made her way to r and kneeled down on the floor, coming face to face with her little sweetheart. As soon as r saw Nat she jumped into her arms and cried and was a  blubbering mess. Nat listened to her little love, offering praise and comfort. And after her little one calmed down she picked her up and took them to their bedroom. Changing into comfy clothes, getting her stuffy (Emer) and some colors books and pens. They spent two hours coloring and Nat watching over her little one with a smile. Every so often pulling r in to kiss her on the forehead. After coloring was done they went and snuggled on the bed, with Nat holding r close and running her fingers through r's hair. Telling her how beautiful and sweet and adorable and kind and perfect r was.

The rest I will leave up to you my love. I hope you enjoy it! I love you darling ♥️

Time with my baby

*Authors note~ hopefully there will be a fic of a different kind tomorrow:) nat and Agere melts my heart. Mentions of aunty wands 🥹 bc I'm a sucker for the love*

Trigger warnings~ age regression r little r mama bear Nat auntie Wanda headache crying etc?

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

No one is immune to the curse of a bad day, but for you and your past it felt as if the dark cloud of a bad day always loomed over you. In your four years of relationship you and your lover Natasha had gotten amazingly good at noticing the signs of a bad day, often being the only one who can make the bad day a little brighter. However, today it appeared you had chosen to be rather stubborn. It was clear to Nat that you were having a bad day and in need of slipping. But try as hard as she might, you were unrelenting in your efforts to pretend to be okay  here. So she did all she can do, let you carry on with your day in a hope that you'd come to here when you needed her help.

Only, you didn't. You kept pushing through. Well attempting to push through. What had started as a simple headache by now had turned into a full on throbbing migraine all by noon. You vaguely remember that Natasha had warned you of your need to slip and that it would cause this if you ignored it, and you also remember telling her that you'd be fine and that she was wrong due to not wanting to bother her. Natasha's schedule today was anything short of hectic and you'd be damned if you were to ruin it and make her stay with you because of your own weaknesses.

Your determination to finish all your morning tasks was battling against your throbbing head. Truly you wondered how it was possible to feel a baseball bat battering your head repeatedly but the more you tried to question it the worse your head became so you quickly gave up on that fight and some how tiredly made your way to the sofa in the compound for just a little rest. Really, you weren't going to sleep, you simply didn't have the time but sitting down never hurt anyone, right? Quickly resting your stinging eyes wouldn't hurt you as long as you made sure to be up and busy before anyone returned.

Although you allowed a nap for yourself you couldn't quite seem to drift off due to your raging headache, tears of pain and frustration began to trail down your cheeks as you just closed your eyes to block out the harsh light flickering through the compound. At times when you felt this bad all you could do is regret not listening to Natasha and slipping earlier, and now you are all alone with no one to comfort you, or so you thought.

Wanda returned earlier than Nat due to the fact Tony wanted to modify her suit, so naturally she went to check on you, she was almost like a sister for you, so when she heard your overwhelming loud thoughts she made her way to you. She could see by your thoughts you needed a slip so with a quick text to Nat she set out to help you.

"Pretty girl?" Wanda whispered causing your body to stiffen and struggle to open your eyes, "shhh it's okay y/n, auntie wands knows all bout it pretty, would you like to rest with me little one?" You managed a weak nod and lifted your head ever so slightly. Wanda slipped underneath your head and immediately brought her hands to your temples in an attempt to help you, despite her efforts she wasn't Nat and your little brain knew that. "Want mama" you whined miserably with a pout on your lips as tears trailed down your cheeks once more. "Wans want my mama I hurtys helps me" your whimpers were breaking your witchy friends heart, but thankfully with the half an hour she began to hear Natasha's rushed and panicked thoughts of you. "Ahh little one I spy someone's mama."

Just from the sight of you Natasha would've Instantly knew what was wrong, but having wanda's helpful insight was always a bonus. She knew how much you loved your auntie wands, so the fact you were still crying meant only one thing. You needed her. So it was unsurprising that as soon as Natasha knelt down to face you, you threw yourself at her, loud muffled sobs coming from you as you nuzzled yourself into her neck. Although it wasn't very clear Natasha knew you were apologetic for thinking you would be okay and she could tell by wanda's reaction that you didn't quite want to be in public in this state but had seemingly regressed smaller than ever before. "Ahh honey, it's okay mama has you now okay? You're such a good girl for me y/n, mama is so proud baby. You're okay and you're so safe with me and wands okay? Shall we go lay down ?"

Natasha easily lifted you into her arms with a quiet thank you to Wanda she carried you into your bedroom, immediately setting out to find the most comfortable pair of clothes for you she could. Once changed you settled on the bed with your favourite stuffed animal call Emer. Natasha changing quickly herself and grabbing some colouring supplies before joining you on the bed. Your migraine wouldn't allow for much, just enough colouring to soothe you into a slumber where Natasha wraps you up in her arms and protects her girl from the world. The only place you could ever sleep soundly was here, with her.

Word count~1315