#get him his migraine meds

[vanweezer]

very very personal, just insight into where im at w my family and things that bother me/have encouraged me to move out

"i know youre moving out so im just gonna say no ones kicking you out and if you feel like this is something you have to do then ok"

thanks! i know im not being kicked out! but yknow i kinda yet a weird vibe when your out of touch husband takes me to a cemetery to yell at me, tell me im just like my father/dont give my father "the time of day", and that im "mean to people who care about me" in front of his dead mother's grave in a poor attempt at guilting me out of speaking my mind. but no yeah thanks for stating the fucking obvious that im leaving on my own terms

[irhabiya]

today sucked the life out of me ya Allah

[kathrynmjaneway]

.

[warningstandbygo]

The great thing about being an Adult is that if you randomly get Extremely Overwhelmed by Existence, no one can stop you from going into your closet in your bedroom with your laptop, changing into a onesie, and sitting in the dark quiet enclosed space all by yourself (even though you're the only one here because your spouse isn't home from work yet).

[keshimasu]

chronic pain muse solidarity hours???

[rueclfer]

Can I get a gentle reminder smau with Shigaraki? And maybe with a little excerpt of him checking in on us 👉🏻👈🏻 love your writing, but don’t feel inclined to do this request if you don’t want to :)

ily u r sweet yes u can get some of this soft n tender shiggy

gentle reminder // tomura shigaraki

“keep track of your shit.” tomura says once more, tossing your pill bottle onto your bed, right next to your figure hidden beneath the mass of blankets.

“you see a bottle of pills that looks kinda important, that you know i left in your room since last week and you don’t think to at least notify me?” you huff, peaking your head out.

“i dunno.” he shrugs. “you leave shit in my room at the time. think i have half your closet on my floor.” 

you tightly clench the fabric of the blanket up over your nose as heat spikes up to your ears.

tomura doesn’t need an invitation to make himself comfortable in your bed. you feel the shift of the mattress underneath you and hear the rattle of the pills as he shakes it in his hands.

“so this tiny ass pill” he lays on his back, one hand behind his head, the other holding up the small orange bottle to his eyes. “is the one thing that keeps you together?”

“unfortunately.” you sigh, pulling the blanket down under your chin. “can you pass me one?”

you watch him carefully shake out the small pale pill into the palm of his hand. he returns the stare as you swallow the pill dry, returning your head down onto your pillow.

“feel better?” he sets the bottle on the nightstand.

“no.” you laugh at the naivety. “gonna take a little to get used to them again.”

“what do you need then?” he blankly stares at you. “‘cause you can’t do this for another week.”

you two lock into a staring contest while you think for a moment. 

what do i need?

you feel like shit. you haven’t taken a proper shower in a few days. you haven’t really eaten anything. your throat is dry. this migraine is pounding its way out of your skull. this is the most you’ve spoken to someone in a week.

“maybe just stay here.”

it takes him by surprise- you see the shock in his eyes. 

sure you’ve messed around a bit (a lot), but you’ve never asked him for any sort of warmth and comfort. this is new territory for the both of you.

tomura fully turns on his side and inches a bit closer to you. he’s scared to touch you, so he just invades your bubble a little bit more than he usually would. your breaths intertwine in the stuffy air of your bedroom and you see the room slowly grow dimmer as the sun sets.

“is this helping?” he whispers.

“yeah.” you close your eyes, fingers reaching out to rest on top of the back of his hand, lighting tapping over his fingers. “thanks, tomura.”

“just don’t be stupid and forget again.” he sighs, switching your hand positions, his now firmly laying flat over yours.

“maybe it’s all a ruse to get you in my bed.” you tease.

“not that you need a ruse. it’s you. i’m always available.” he scoffs. “idiot.” he quickly adds on.

tomura’s glad the sun was almost set at this point. you wouldn’t be able to see his growing flushed face and chewed bottom lip as he continues to stare at your slight smile, and tousled hair from laying in bed all day.

he’ll make a mental note to make it a habit to stop by your room and remind you to take your meds from now on. he doesn’t realize until now that this piece of solitude in each other’s presence has been something he’s been craving, almost like an insatiable hunger. 

tomura scooches closer now, letting himself in the cocoon of your blankets. you accept him in between your arms, letting him rest his head against the crook of your neck.

“thank you, tomura.” you mutter against his hairline.

“yeah.”

[iminlovebutimkeepinitlowkey]

Rafe with a girlfriend who has chronic migraines Part 2!

He’d give up all the money in the world for you. He doesn’t care about the hundreds of dollars he spends on expensive memory foam pillows and body pillows. Rafe swears he’s never felt such heartbreak than when you silently cried against him in complete and utter agony. He buys the $400 cefaly machine and pays for the overpriced at home acupuncture. He does yoga with you in the garden because any other form of exercise triggers a migraine instantly. He never gets upset or disappointed when you cancel plans because of a migraine.

He takes the best care of you, he knows to take you to a dark room to lay in and is immediately at your side with an ice pack and some water. He’s always got your meds on hand and snacks for you to take them with. His freezer is stocked with TheraIce headache hats in every color made. He buys the fanciest diffuser he can possibly find to make his room smell like lavender while you sleep the pain away. He gets you a stanly cup, and an owala bottle, and a hydro flask, and a yeti, just to get you to drink more water.

Hell, he even buys you an immensely overpriced lapis necklace after reading about its supposed history of healing migraines.

He constantly brags about how brave his precious girlfriend is, how strong she is. Topper broke his arm once and Rafe’s reaction was: “Ok and? Y/n has migraines everyday and still gets up and does shit, get the fuck up.”

You are his everything, his other half, his twin flame. And he will do absolutely anything to make life easier for you<3

My Masterlists!!

[besavvy]

You know how in most fanfiction Peter Parker has like a ridiculously strong sense of smell? He usually is portrayed as having a nose pretty comparable to the average dog.

Medical alert service dogs are trained to look for certain scents to make their handlers aware that they are about to have a medical episode-usually well before it actually happens.

Peter could be a human service dog.

Just imagine spiderman being midfight with this gang or whatever and all of the sudden he's like trying to get this one dude to sit down or something because he's about to have a seizure.

Or he's helping some lost kid and gets him a snack because his blood sugar is tanking.

Or maybe while they're working in the lab one day he suddenly stops and tells Tony to take his migraine meds and Tony of course is like… why?? I feel fine??? And Peter is like no seriously. You about to be Miserable. Take your meds.

And he's right! And Tony is just like wtf?????

I thought of this while I when I was reading a fanfic and my service dog wouldn't leave me the heck alone because she knew twenty minutes before it happened that I was about to have a severe blood sugar crash.

[stxneflxwers]

pain reliever.

⋯⁂ summary. migraines. migraines never end.

⋯⁂ a/n. oh my god im so sick of being in pain someone just make it end-

⋯⁂ characters. aventurine. gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. reader in physical pain (migraines, light sensitive eyes). comfort. all lowercase. aventurine is now designated weighted blankie.

"another migraine, huh?"

aventurine chimes in, his voice soft as a feather – without its typical sassy and teasing edge, too. he stands behind you as you rest on the sofa in his penthouse, your sluggish body flush against the puffy back cushions. his hands rest on the tops of the cushions, caging either side of your head as he stares down at you, your head tilted back to look up at him.

of course, the seating is about as lavish and comfortable as it comes – you wouldn't expect anything less from your eccentric boyfriend.

"yup." you don't even nod, and your words are barely louder than a pained whisper.

"you poor thing," he coos, "here. take it." he offers his rose-tinted sunglasses to you, to help subdue some of the bright lighting coming from the ceiling.

you stare for a long, hard (and painful) moment at the sunglasses offered to you. without another moment thinking about if the rose-tinted lens will actually help with negating some pain, you take the accessory by its temples and slide them on. you then look up at him through the rosy glass, your eyes half-lidded and your expression droopy.

"adorable." he grins, a genuine one he reserves for you – only for you. "now, how about i look for some meds, huh? i bought some recently for times like these." he reaches out a gloved hand, intending on gently petting your head, but ends up holding himself back. his hand awkwardly hovers above your face before it rests back down on the sofa back.

"...you did that? for me?" you blink, eyes widening momentarily with knitted brows.

"i sure did. i can't have my favorite person being in debilitating pain every time i see them, yeah? it's no fun that way." he chuckles breathily before leaning down to press a chaste, feather-light kiss to your exposed forehead.

"i wouldn't call it debilitating, per se..." you drawl, but smile from his tender ministrations.

"well, we'll have to agree to disagree, then," he shakes his head. "i'll be right back. you try to rest some." he walks away, dimming the lights in the living room as he leaves to look for the medication he mentioned.

"thank you, vasha..." you mumble, watching him walk away – his stride holds significantly less bravado to it when it's just the two of you. it's...relaxed.

when he returns with two pills and a cup of cool water in hand, he finds you laying down on the sofa – curled up in a tight, little ball of..., well, pain. he hates seeing you in pain, much less so this frequently. but he masks his concern just enough to not make you worry about him being worried. it's almost ironic.

"hey," he whispers, voice even softer than earlier, "c'mon, time to take your meds~." he teases a little as he bends over enough to meet your scrunched up face, hoping to lighten your mood.

"alright, alright..." you grumble, "thank you, nurse." you tiredly grin at him before pulling yourself up into a seated but slouched position.

"aww, i bet you'd like to see me all dressed up like a cute little nurse, huh?" he jokes while handing you the pills and cup.

"...i will neither confirm nor deny that allegation." you scoff playfully, and then you take the medication as instructed – of course, you down all the water too. or else a certain gambler will get on your case.

"pfft, figures." he snickers, taking a seat beside you on the sofa, slinging an arm on the top of the back cushions.

after setting the empty cup down on the accessory table next to the armrest, you glance at him with weary eyes. but to him, it looks like you're about to beg for something–

"be my blanket."

perhaps "beg" was a poor word choice. that sounded far more like a demand.

"...your blanket...?" he blinks on repeat, looking somewhat bewildered.

"yes. lay on top of me." you blink back, but your expression lacks any sort of discernible emotion. "it's...comforting."

"well," he starts with an awkward, stiff chuckle, "if you insist. i'll gladly be your blanket, then." he smiles and shakes his head.

you lay on your back, opening your arms to him before he settles on top of you – he's the best height and weight to be a nice, warm weighted blanket. he rests his head on your chest as his body sits between your legs. you sigh in contentment, and you swear this is what real perfection feels like.

warm, safe, quiet.

[opiopal]

random headcanons before I go to sleep

barbatos is probably the type of person to get offended when you mention using the dishwasher.

lucifer has compression socks for ankle pain and swelling. also probably takes migraine meds because I just know his head hurts from all the stress he's under.

when startled mammons shoulders tense up and raise to make himself look bigger like how a bird lifts its wings. since I hc he has some feathers on his bod in demon form his neck feathers puff up.

levi cries in joy whenever one of his favorite streamers reads his name outloud.

every time Mc cracks their knuckles or any joint for that matter, every demon within 5ft gasps as if they just broke something.

when first fallen, satan went on a very short ramage, that only ended when he accidentally stepped on a book and heard the spine tear.

asmo is actually allergic to pollen, so he takes allergy pills every morning and night to not suffer in his own room. its always aesthetic over convenience with this man.(and he's so real for that)

because I loved how close they were in the beginning of the first OM, satan and asmo are close and gossip together.

solomon famously cannot cook for shit, but he used to be good at it and was a way he showed love, but over time he lost his sense of taste so he doesn't realize his cooking is bad because he himself cant taste it.

barbatos has caught a vase mid air once, which wouldn't be as impressive if he wasn't on the other side of the room when it got knocked over.

one time in a panic mammon bit lucifers hand, you can only imagine how that went

asmo is the type to help a demon wipe their crying face clean and redo their makeup for them.

one time luke actually started to cry from being insulted, which caused the brothers to panic and start to comfort him immediately. they were just teasing and didn't mean it! really!

simeon jokingly told levi that one of the fan theories about TSL was true, which sent levi into a week long spiral of trying to connect the dots

Dia has weekly tea parties with just him and Mc to talk and catch up,

[breadbrobin]

“doc”

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[child of apollo reader, should be gender neutral]

i tried to write a summary but it sucked so: reader is a child of apollo and luke is always hanging around the infirmary with a new injury. you hate it (do you really?)

(this got so out of hand but im so obsessed with luke castellan rn it’s not even funny. like. help.)

warning: like one or two swear words, mentions of injuries and illness, fluff i think

word count: 1.2k

____________________

you’d never been a fan of luke castellan. you knew it, he knew it—hell, everyone at camp knew it.

but a little unfriendliness never stopped him.

children of apollo were meant to be warm and kind all the time, but you’d rather die before being happy-go-lucky all the time like your siblings. you’d rather do your job: healing the campers who injured themselves throughout the days at camp. you’d also rather those campers not include luke castellan for once, but not all wishes can come true.

scarcely a day could pass by without luke coming into the infirmary, or coming up to you elsewhere in camp if you weren’t there, with a minor injury that he insisted needed healing immediately.

“i just don’t think i can continue kayaking with a sprained ankle, y/n.”

“what if it was your knees you skinned? wouldn’t you want to get them healed so you could get back to arts and crafts?”

“if my cut finger isn’t healed as soon as possible i’ll have to sit capture the flag out tomorrow! yes, i know it’s a paper cut. that’s not the point!”

he really was ridiculous.

either way, you had to heal him, technically. at your heart, you were a good person. on the surface, you wanted to punch him. give him something to really cry about.

“y/n, your boyfriend’s here again.” one of your sisters, cassidy, called out to you as you checked the stock of bandaids.

you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to correct her. “what this time?”

“i just have the worst headache, doc. it’s killing me.” luke said dramatically, holding his forehead. the small grin on his face didn’t support his statement at all.

you turned around, eyes wide and face serious, but trying not to smirk. “oh no, you might have meningitis! if it’s the worst headache of your life, we should get to you a hospital so they can do a spinal tap and run some tests.”

the grin on his face faltered as you pulled him to a seat. “uh—“

“lie down. don’t move. i’m going to get chiron.”

he gripped your arm. “no, wait, i think—“

“you’ll be fine?” you turned around with raised brows. “yeah, thought so. drink some water, castellan.”

“but—“

“what? you won’t be able to do sword fighting practise with a headache? big deal.”

“y/n—“

“you need to stop coming in here every time you get bored. we’re not an entertainment space.”

“but, i really do have a headache. like. a migraine.”

you stopped and turned back around, dropping the bandages you had been organising. “oh. shit, i’m sorry. hold on.”

cursing yourself internally, you rushed off to get nectar to hopefully help, along with some painkillers and a bottle of chilled water. when you came back, luke was lying on the bed, eyes closed.

“you okay, soldier?” you patted his shoulder gently.

he cracked one eye open and nodded. “kind of.”

you gently pulled him to sit up. “come on. gotta get some meds in you. eat any food today? drink enough water?”

he shook his head as he sipped the nectar, his eyes squinted. “got busy.”

you shot him a disapproving look and he smiled guiltily. “you need to eat or you’ll die. do you want to die?”

he looked up at you with furrowed brows. “you don’t have a very good bedside manner, you know?”

“then why do you keep coming back here?” you went back to organising bandages, busying your hands.

“i like my doctors prettier than they are kind, honestly.”

you froze your movements and looked over at him. luke was smiling slightly. your cheeks weren’t turning red, you told yourself. they weren’t allowed to. “whatever,” you finally said. “take your meds, drink all of that water—sip it, don’t chug—then get some sleep, alright?”

he nodded, taking a sip of the water. “yes, doc. got it.”

you nodded at him firmly and walked off once he’d taken the painkillers, hoping he couldn’t see right through you.

luke hadn’t been to the infirmary in a week, and you were genuinely starting to get concerned.

every free moment you got, you were staring at the door, or out the window, waiting for him to come in with some stupid injury and even more stupid excuse. but he didn’t.

after watching you pace for the seventh time in one morning, cassidy groaned. “just go find him.”

“i’m sure he’s fine.” you said, wringing your hands. “i mean, he’s probably just busy.”

“just go. you’re stressing me out. i can’t get anything done with you filling the room with your nervous energy. go find your boyfriend.”

“luke’s not my boyfriend.”

“i never said who it was.”

“well, it was pretty obvious—“

“just go!” she threw a bandage at your head, effectively forcing you out the door.

you didn’t even know where he was.

camp was huge, so it took you around twenty minutes to find him, he sun glaring into your eyes and likely burning your cheeks. regardless, you were on a mission. finally, you spotted him in the arena. of course.

you watched for a while until he noticed you, standing in the shade with your eyes squinted in the sun and your arms crossed over your chest. he grinned and jogged over.

“hey, doc. what brings you here?” he asked, sheathing his sword.

your eyes followed the precise movement. “why haven’t you been to the infirmary?”

he shrugged. “i haven’t been injured.”

“didn’t stop you before.”

there was a silence.

then he smiled again. “did you miss me?”

your cheeks burned. “no!” you cleared your through awkwardly. “i just… i get… bored. and you… keep the monotony away.”

“you missed me.”

“i did not miss you.”

he leaned closer, rocking back and forth on his feet. “you missed me.”

you glared up at him, but couldn’t fight the tiny smile that forced itself on your lips. you shook your head, pressing your lips together tightly. “nope. didn’t miss you.”

“well,” he shrugged. “guess i don’t need to tell you that i did actually just hurt my hand while training, huh?”

you frowned. “are you aware that consuming as much nectar and ambrosia as you seem to want to will cause you to burn to a crisp?”

“i don’t need godly food if i have you as my doctor.” he smiled cheekily, clenching his fist then wincing. “seriously, though. it hurts.”

“aw, poor baby.” you pouted, leaning forward and placing your hand on his and trying to feel if there was any injury present.

before you could do anything, his fingers had interlocked with yours and he was stepping closer to you.

you looked up at him, heart pounding and cheeks burning. “what are you—“

“i don’t know what we can do for a date around here, but i’d love to take you on one, doc.” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

you froze, heart fluttering. butterflies danced in your stomach. you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself, smiling. “okay. yeah. take me on a date, soldier.”

“yeah?” he smiled, squeezing your hand. “great! i’ve been trying to work up the guts to ask you for weeks now. also, can i kiss you?”

“i’ve been trying to pretend i didn’t want you to ask me for weeks.” you said, stepping slightly closer to him. “also… yes.”

his free hand cupped your cheek and his lips pressed to yours, soft and sweet.

you wondered why you ever said you didn’t like him.

[clockwayswrites]

Danny & Cass, Cyan, Bag crinkling @mynewhyperfixation

A bag of chips landed next to Cass, crinkling under its own weight as it hit the concrete roof. Two plastic water bottles were flung up next— Cass caught them both— and then a worn canvas tote joined everything else. She waited patiently for the mop of black and white hair to appear over the edge as Danny hauled himself up to sit next to her on the ledge.

He grinned at her, always cheerful. “Hey black bird! I hadn’t seen you for awhile, I was getting worried.”

Cass smiled back and offered him the water bottle without the label. The thin plastic crinkled as he took it. Instead of opening it, he tilted his head as he looked her over.

“You look good,” he said, “and happy too.”

Cass nodded and held her arms up above her head, fingertips touching in a point. She thought as hard as she could about the others, her new family. She knew Danny would understand, he almost always did.

“You got a home? That’s great Birdie!” he said, smiling even wider. Then the smile faltered, just for a moment. It wasn’t as real after. “Guess I won’t be seeing you anymore then, huh? But that’s a good thing! You have a home now. They’re treating you well, right?”

Cass nodded eagerly. Things were weird and sometimes hard, but she felt safe with them.

“Good. That’s really good.” Danny’s smile had faded into something softer. His shoulders dropped a little and the water bottle was quiet in his hands. He looked away from her and back down to the street.

He was sad.

That wouldn’t do.

Danny had been the first person that was nice to Cass. He was always happy— or tried to be happy— even when things were horrible. He had looked after her even when he had nothing to give.

Cass leaned over and hooked her arm in his.

Danny rolled his eyes. “No, we can’t. It just won’t work like that, black bird. You have a home now and it’s not safe out here. They’d worry about you too much if you keep coming out here. You shouldn’t risk that.”

Rolling her eyes right back, Cass gave a little tug to Danny’s arms.

His eyes widened and he leaned back from her. “What? No, I can’t just come with you! They took you in, Birdie, no one asked for me.”

Cass pressed her free hand against her chest and frowned at him.

“No one but you, Birdie,” Danny said softly. He sighed and leaned over until their shoulders bumped. “I can’t ruin this chance for you. I can’t follow you there. I don’t get a home anymore.”

--- AN: I might keep adding to this with the other prompts for Danny & Cass! Idk I have real sleepy bitch disease right now (chronic fatigue + new migraine meds is a shit combo) so I'm not sure if this all even comes across but I hope you enjoy, darlings. Feel free to add onto this yourself if you want!

Part 2

[steddieas-shegoes]

wayne's got him

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'wayne adopts steve' rated g wc: 680 cw: migraines tags: hurt/comfort, established relationship, fluff

--------------------------------------

Steve's head was pulsing, a sharp pain shooting from his eyes to his neck, sitting at his jaw for minutes at a time.

He hadn't had a migraine this bad in a while, and definitely not since Eddie had started working. He didn't have anyone here to help, and Robin would be at work until the afternoon.

He slowly rolled over in bed, wincing as the pain got worse from the movement.

He couldn't contain the whimper he let out as he tried to settle again, his head hurting too much in every position to try to get comfortable.

"Steve? Y'alright?" Wayne's voice was probably a normal volume, but it felt like shards of glass in his ears, against his eyes.

Apparently, his responding whimper was enough to have Wayne opening the door and coming into the bedroom.

"You dyin'?" Wayne whispered, seemingly sensing that every noise was too much.

"No," Steve managed to say. "Migraine."

Wayne didn't respond at first and Steve couldn't keep his eyes open. What little light was coming through the window felt like the sun was shining two feet in front of him.

And then the light was gone, the room was nearly pitch black, and Wayne's footsteps were getting closer to the bed.

"Gonna get you some water and meds. Hungry?" He whispered.

Steve shook his head once, barely.

He may have passed out for a minute or two because the next thing he knows, he's being slowly lifted enough to take a sip from the glass that's being held against his lips.

"Just a few small sips, son. The meds are crushed up in it," Wayne whispered.

Steve did his best, dribbling some when he accidentally opened his mouth too far.

Wayne wiped his mouth and chin after with a towel hanging off the chair by the bed.

"Called Eddie to let him know, told him I got ya."

"'S okay."

"I got ya, I said. Lay back, I got the ice pack."

Steve did what he asked, sighing with relief when the ice pack was placed on his forehead.

"That better?" Wayne asked.

"Mhm."

"Leave it for ten minutes and then I'll switch it out with the hot water bottle."

Eddie must've told him that helps.

Their day wore on, Steve sleeping when he could find some relief, letting Wayne nurse him back to health when he couldn't.

By the time Eddie got home, Steve's head was in Wayne's lap while he slowly massaged his temple.

"Any better?" Eddie whispered.

"A bit," Steve replied softly. "He did the ice and heat."

"Of course he did. That's where I learned it from," Eddie smiled softly at him.

"You go get cleaned up and then take over," Wayne said to Eddie. "I got him."

Eddie kissed Steve's forehead before walking to the shower to wash off the day.

Steve closed his eyes again, trying to fend off the nausea of the smell of chemicals from the mechanic shop that always lingered on Eddie after a shift.

"Stinks, don't he?" Wayne asked quietly.

Steve smiled.

"A little. 'S okay."

"Smells hurt worse though, don't they?"

"Yeah."

"He's still got some learnin'. But I got ya both 'til he does."

Steve turned his head to look at Wayne.

"Why are you helping me? Weren't you tired after your shift?" Steve asked, realizing for the first time that Wayne had just gotten home from his night shift when he found Steve miserable that morning.

He'd been awake for more than 24 hours now, and didn't seem even remotely worried about himself.

"Cuz you're my boy. I love ya and if ya need me, I'm gonna be here."

Steve felt his eyes start to burn with incoming tears, his throat closing against a sob.

"But-"

"No buts. You got me same as Ed, and if I could, I'd adopt you too. Okay?"

"Okay."

By the time Eddie made it back into the bedroom, Steve was asleep, and Wayne's eyes were drooping closed.

Eddie didn't have the heart to make Wayne get up.

It'd be okay; He had Steve.

[vin-taege]

Can I request a chishiya fluff? can you do reader taking caring of sick chishiya? we see chishiya taking care of reader but never a reader taking care of chishiya so i wanted to see! Thank you if you do!!

Stubborn

Summary: Who knew the worst patient on earth would be a doctor? Alternatively, the one where Chishiya is being stubborn and whiny because he ALLEGEDLY never gets sick.

Genre: fluff, normal!au, slight ooc chishiya

Pairing: reader x chishiya

Words: 1k

“___… ___… where’s my briefcase?”

You could hear him groaning from your room, undoubtedly prying himself up on the dresser again in the attempt to prove that he is totally not sick. With a fond sigh, you set the hot soup down on the tray, which also had a cup of warm tea and migraine medication.

Maneuvering past your boyfriend’s hunched-over form, you set the tray down on the bedside table before walking over to him and lightly taking his hands into yours. His polo shirt was buttoned asymmetrically, his hair tangled and tied into a messy bun. His eyes were half-closed from the headache and he sniffled every few seconds, but he was trying his best to stand up straight and look normal. Before you could open your mouth, he cut you off.

“I’m not sick. I never get sick.” His voice came out small and groggy, like shrapnel shredded his throat.

“Yes honey, sure you don’t,” you gave him a patient smile. Begrudgingly, he followed you back to the bed, never once letting go of your hand. You tucked him back in, suppressing a chuckle upon seeing a permanent grimace on his face, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. “I need you to finish the soup so your stomach is full enough for the meds.”

“I know that. I’m a doctor, ___, for fuck’s sake. I’m not sick,” he rolled his eyes, turning his face away from the spoon you held up. Hesitantly, his eyes darted back to meet yours. Upon seeing the pout on your face, he let out a long sigh, followed by a painful groan. He held his head in his hands, leaning over before he fully fell back into the headboard. “You hid my briefcase, I know you did.”

“Chishiya, I didn’t do anything to your briefcase. Maybe it’s God’s way of telling you to rest and drink your medicine,” you punctured the sentence with a light jab of the spoon.

He huffed before finally accepting your offer. “There is no god.”

“But there is a flu and right now your head sounds like it’s about to pop off. Don’t get all philosophical with me, doctor. If you be any more difficult, I’ll have to strap you to this bed,” you teased half-heartedly.

In all honesty, you were worried. Chishiya was right in saying that he never gets sick—which is exactly why it’s such a big deal when he does. When his immune system finally crashes down because of all the late nights and missed meals, it fully implodes. You were well aware of his tendency to be cocky and stubborn—though never towards you—but being sick definitely amplifies it. Why else would he be in an unpressed polo shirt looking for a briefcase all the while his skull felt like it was getting jackhammered?

Halfway through the bowl, you set the spoon down and pressed the back of your hand on his forehead. You gently swiped at the beads of sweat, frowning at how hot his skin had become. He had his eyes fully shut, barely containing a whimper.

“___, I’m dying.”

A laugh escaped your lips before you knew it. He opened his eyes slightly only to squint at you. “You’re laughing. I feel like I’m dying and you’re laughing.”

“You are not dying. You’re in the care of Dr. ___!”

“Which is exactly why I’m dying.”

“Hey!” you squeezed his arm lightly. To your relief, he was well enough to let out a small laugh. After that, he thankfully allowed you to keep feeding him without much resistance. When he finished all the soup, you gave his cheek a small poke.

“You’re starting to become the patients you hate the most,” you teased.

“I was born into the world to annoy you, actually,” he grinned, peering up at you with his honeyed eyes.

“You’re thankful you have a smart mouth and a cute ass,” you stuck your tongue out at him. Picking up the meds, you showed him the label to get his confirmation—which he gave to you with a worldless nod, his lips turning into a smirk.

“You love my mouth.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. Your own cheeks burned, bringing a hand up to smack his arm lightly. He groaned again, this time more exaggeratedly. “That’s medical malpractice!”

“I’ll cheer you up once I get the sponge bath running,” you purr into his ear. His eyes lit up despite the pain in his head.

“Will you actually—”

“No, you’re sick. I’ll give you a special treat once you get better and only if you’ll be a nice patient for me.” You pressed the pill into his lips, letting it slip inside his mouth gently. Taking the glass of water, you carefully tilted it towards him and waited for him to finish drinking.

“Yes ma’am,” he beamed. You mirrored his smile, pressing a hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. He covered it with his own, fingers automatically weaving with yours. 

“Rest, okay? I mean it. Go take a nap and I’ll wake you up when the bath’s ready” You leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. Feigning innocence, he turned his cheek towards you as well. With a playful eye roll, you pressed a kiss against it as well.

He rolled over, burying his head in the pillows and duvet. “I love you,” he murmured into the sheets. You almost didn’t catch it on the way to the bathroom.

“I love you too,” you called out to him. You opened the cabinet under the sink first before taking out his suitcase. Snickering to yourself a little, you tucked it back in. Right now, your main focus was to get the water temperature right. Beyond the water running, you could hear Chishiya’s snoring muffled by the duvet. Who knew he could be so dramatic?

[unknownati]

Hello! I hope you're doing well :3

Can I get something about Ekko (headcanons, short scenario... you choose the format) with a s/o with chronic migraines? I absolutely love how you write him!! And it would be very special for me, considering that this topic is not talked about enough.

Thank you so much for your contribution to the fandom! ily byee

vi. ekko x gn!reader w/chronic migraines (hcs)

a/n: twin. I GOTCHU 😭🤝 and tysm!

i'm sorry if this isn't up to your expectations, i tried to do extra research on it (i was on r/migraine and like 3 different medical sites for a WHILE.) to make sure i repped u the best i could! please lmk if there's any inaccuracies :(

from what i read, most people's experiences were pretty similar so i tried to keep it in that middle ground.

warnings/tags: fluffy fluffy fluff, lowercase intended, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, descriptions of pain, reader gets insecure at the end (w/ comfort!), just ekko taking care of u like the gentleman he is really, i need this man

_____________________________________________

-ekko didn't quite know how to handle it when you first started getting close.

-you could tell he cared, constantly glancing over at you with worried eyes every time you rubbed your temples and took deep breaths. his hand would rest on your shoulder, and even though you brushed it off, he knew it sucked.

-you somehow managed to keep it pretty low-key until you two started dating.

-the first time he really got a glimpse into it was during a baaad week after you started dating.

-"doin' okay?" he'd murmur, kneeling down next to your duvet shielded figure. all you do is groan, sticking your hand out to find his, interlocking fingers with him.

"yeah, i guessed. brought you some meds, maybe it'll help make you feel a bit better."

he knew he was doing something right when you squeezed his hand and whispered "thank you."

it was the most grateful he's ever heard anyone sound for anything.

and even though those pain meds didn't do the best job in the world, it's the thought that counts!

-afterward, he started with peeking to see what meds you take, constantly keeping them restocked for you. he thinks you don't know he's the one sneaking them into your bag, your cabinet, on your nightstand, etc. you know. there's only one person in your life who you know would leave spray paint stains on the little bottles.

-he'd make sure to keep areas he knows you mainly hung around much dimmer. buys you blackout curtains and figures out how to make controlled light bulbs for you that can be dimmer or brighter as you needed.

-he carries a shocking amount of stuff on him. boom, canteen of water! boom, snacks! boom, painkillers! woah, what's that? ICE PACK! check behind your ears? holy shit it's a heating pad.

-one thing though; as much as he cares for you, he won't baby you. he knows just how capable you are of doing things...he will, however, give you major royal treatment. you will be getting that shoulder massage 🙏🏾

-during days where your migraines are less brutal, he just keeps an eye out for you. makes sure stay hydrated and well fed.

-he does your chores for you during those extended periods, tearing his gloves off to stick his hands into your pile of dishes and clean them up for you. when you shuffle downstairs later in the day to put a cup in there, you find a small little note in front of your now cleared sink.

'hope i could lighten your load (get it) ♡ - e'

-and it was such a stupid joke that almost didn't make sense but you'd be lying if you said you didn't smile wide as fuck when you read it.

-during the extended periods of your migraine attacks, when you're just in bed, he brings you literally anything and everything.

-when you wake up from a nap you can almost always find him cuddled close to you, drool pooling into your pillow.

-and he does not mind leaving where you are just for you to go get some peace and quiet.

-it hits you like a train when you're out with him and a few of his friends. the stinging, pulsing cluster of pain forming behind your eye made you groan. "fuck, baby 'm sorry my head is just...killing me."

"hey guys, we're gonna head out, okay?"

"what? no, you don't have to leave, i can just—"

he flashes you what is the most loving glare you've ever seen and just gets up, ushering you along with him. silence fills the walk back between the lanes, gravel and wrappers crunching beneath your boots.

"i'm sorry." you murmur, smoothing your fingers across the arch of your brow. the way he looks at you when the words leave your mouth made you think he was offended by them.

"why are you apologizing?"

"i just...don't want you to always have to stop enjoying yourself just for me."

"nah, don't say that. it doesn't bother me. plus, it means i get to go home and chill out with you more often, i'm fine with that."

"yeah, but what if i'm just too much? what if you get sick of...doing all this?"

he scoffs, pulling his glove off and stopping you from walking so he can raise your chin, looking at you with eyes so determined but so gentle. his thumb swipes between your brows, making you relax them. "you're never gonna be too much for me. and i won't. ever."

-and trust me.

-he doesn't.

[mins-fins]

the cure

&&. mark shows up to your place bleeding red, and red is your least favorite color.

pairing: mark lee x gn!reader

genre: fluff, spiderman!mark & student nurse!reader

warnings: descriptions of injuries, blood, and violence

word count: 1.3k

notes: this was supposed to come out yesterday but i had the worst migraine and literally ended up passing out 😆 its okay though the grind never stops!! this little bit (spiderman + med student) was originally supposed to be longer and it might still be longer form i just cant begin that right now 😓 okay everyone have a good day and dont get a migraine like isa

mark, for some reason, feels guilty.

his guilt manifests in the blood that trickles down his side, the cut digs into his heart, rips it out, and stomps on it. the figurative scars hurt more than the literal one, and though the pain is excruciating, he feels much more disappointed than anything.

jeez that guy did him bad, he didn't know pocket knives could do that much damage, he was just trying to go about his night on that skyscraper, but of course, something had to happen.

since when do robbers carry knives? he probably won't be able to get over that for a while.

but mark doesn't allow for himself to stumble, he doesn't need for things to become worse. though he would usually just go home and try to deal with the cuts himself, he instead brings himself to another apartment, sitting outside on the balcony of a familiar room.

he peaks over, pressing his face against the window. he raises his fist and softly knocks on the glass, alerting the person inside of his presence. you turn around upon hearing the noise, a muted gasp escaping your lips as you rush towards the window to open it.

"mark? oh my god are you— jesus".

mark simply gives a dorky smile, no teeth, and you usher him in, supporting him as he slumps down the moment he enters your room. "is this a bad time?" he manages to ask, biting back his wince as he feels your finger lightly grace the wound on his hip, the blood smearing onto your hand.

"no, it's just.." you pause, collecting yourself as you stare at the crimson belonging to mark. "i'll be right back" you rush towards the bathroom, and mark watches each of you movements.

after washing your hands, you return with a first aid kit and warm wet cloth, mark immediately smiles once he hears your footsteps. "alright, let's bandage you up now" you whisper, again kneeling to mark's level as you examine the cut.

there's a slit in mark's suit where the cut resides, a nauseating gash that makes even you, a nurse in training, grimace. you tilt your head to the side, lips pursued as you focus on bandaging mark up, not wanting for it to get infected.

mark closes his eyes in exhaustion, holding back his winces as you press the wet cloth to his damaged skin, dabbing away the blood. the pain is evident on his face, his expressions much too obvious to be feigned. "hurts huh?"

your boyfriend hums, opening one of his eyes. "yeah" he can't help the frown that graces his lips, a frown you pick up on.

"this isn't the first time right?" you know, of course you know, you can read mark like he's your favorite work of literature. mark never understands how you do it, but he also decides never to question it.

"no" his tongue runs over his teeth, somehow feeling disappointed. he lightly shifts in his position when he feels you apply ointment to the cut, finally allowing that well needed wince to leave his lips. "i didn't mean to hide all my wounds from you i just.. i didn't want you to worry".

you offer a small chuckle. "i worry about you either way, baby".

the petname makes the heat on his face amplify, and he looks down at the floor. "and you don't like red.."

you blink. "what?"

mark begins picking at his nails, embarrassed. "you don't like red, i didn't want to constantly show up all cut and busted up, i just wanted to save you the worry".

your gaze softens, but mark avoids your eyes anyway, somewhat ashamed of the words he just muttered.

knowing your boyfriend is spiderman hasn't really assured any of your worries. before, it was just anxiety about how much work he was putting himself through, and now it was anxiety about literally everything. he could show up on your doorstep or windowsill with wounds all over him, terribly injured, and he'd just.. smile. how could you not worry?

"you don't have to save me anything, i'm here to make sure you're okay" you say, frowning at the whole display before you. "so.. how do i take this off?"

"wow, trying to undress me already?"

you playfully hit mark's shoulder, and he giggles at your resulting expression. still, he points you to the zipper on his suit, and you begin unzipping the spandex so you can reveal his other scars much easier. mark isn't focusing on that, though, he's instead focused on the rip in his very own suit. "fucker put a tear in it".

you let out an amused snicker, but mark's frown doesn't falter. "is that really all you care about?"

your boyfriend shrugs. "well i do care about it, i spent so much time sewing it.."

realizing he was genuinely upset about it, your smile falls, pointer finger trailing down his neck, feeling all of the scars from previous battles. "i'll help you sew it back, okay?" you use your free hand to tilt his chin towards you, and the smile you offer makes him smile.

"you're so gentle" mark lets his head slowly fall onto your shoulder, humming in solace at the feeling of warmth surrounding him. "i should've come to you sooner".

"well you can come to me now" you respond, voice laced with nothing but adoration. "think i can do a better job at patching you up than what you've been doing for all this time.."

you use your free hand to cup mark's face, squishing his cheeks. you chuckle at the display, completely enamored by the sight before you. "i'll take care of you now, you always know where to find me".

mark doesn't respond, worn out from literally everything, but his smile says it all. he again leans against you, and you can feel his heart beating. the sweetness of his smile contrasts the red that still stain his skin, but he no longer minds. "you're too nice to me".

"that's my job".

mark opens his eyes, staring at you for a moment, silent. then, he sits up and places his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

you yelp at the sudden change of mood, but you snicker, and mark feels your smile against his lips. your back just lightly hits your bed, legs coming up as mark's hand holds your jaw, gently keeping you in place as his presses become much more frenzied.

there's a slight whine that comes from you, and mark retreats for air a small while after, hands still holding onto your jaw, his finger beginning to caress your skin. "sorry.." he mutters, his head falling onto your chest.

you let out a silent laugh. "for what?"

mark's arms come to wrap around you, leaving you trapped in your place. "worrying you, it was just—"

you press your pointer finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up. "you don't have to explain it anymore, babe, you're okay, and that's all that matters to me".

if mark's cheeks dust red, he again tries to hide that fact by hiding his face from you. "love you".

the words are small, nothing but a whisper in your expanse of a room, but you hear them loud and clear. his arms circled around your waist leave you with a feeling of warmth, easement that just brightens your night a little bit more.

"i love you too, but you can't fall asleep on me like this".

mark almost lets out a whine, but he just frowns. "at least let me change you into something comfortable, and finish cleaning that other cut".

and though mark doesn't want to let you go, he also can't help but smile at the words.

your favorite color isn't red, it's your least, but when mark bleeds red, that all becomes unnecessary.

you'll be here to patch up all of his red, you're sure of it.