#seizures mention

[algrenion]

me: im gonna relax by playing Video Game!

me, playing "video game": oh my! i am so excited about Video Game that i've activated my dissociative seizure activity!!!

(*looks directly at the camera* this is not a complaint, but rather a compliment as to Video Game's infinitely wonderful, whimsical, and empowering games design methods, and i would rather my dissociative seizures be triggered by something fun which overjoys me - such as Video Game - than the stress or turmoil that usually triggers my seizures in day-to-day life)

[ka3l]

[abbeyofcyn]

Krang infection 42

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[arcticduckie]

Shoutout to people with Functional Neurological Disorder

Shoutout to people with functional tics

Shoutout to people who have dystonia

Shoutout to people with Psychogenic non-epileptic seizures

Shoutout to people with paralysis and or weakness

Shoutout to people with tremors

Shoutout to people who shut down/unresponsive episodes

Shoutout to people who have walking difficulties

Shoutout to people who have numbness

Shoutout to people who have speech problems

Shoutout to people with vision problems

Shoutout to people with hearing problems

Shoutout to people with memory loss

Shoutout to everyone with FND

[otterish]

A weird favor please...

I'm in a weird sort of bind... You see, I'm autistic, and along with that, I have narcolepsy and misophonia. What does this fucked up collection of weirdness mean? It means I am very sensitive to sound (The misophonia and the autism), and I have seizures that are triggered by stress and the tension headaches I get because of my spinal fusion.

Why all this info? You see, I have a lovely little MP3 player loaded with the most perfect white noise that is guaranteed to calm me down. It takes corded headphones, which is great because I can never find any bluetooth buds that fit in my ears. I have a birth defect that makes it nigh impossible to find any that fit. I did find some amazing corded earbuds though! They are the JVC Gummy in ear earbuds, and I've been using them for over 10 years. They only last about a year or two, but they are like 9 bucks and fit perfectly. Here is an amazon link so you can see what I mean: https://a.co/d/0drGMzDN

The thing is... I can barely afford food (We were on SNAP but they fucked everything up. AGAIN!), let alone the earbuds I need. One of my main misophonia triggers is anyone snoring, mouth breathing, and even sometimes just breathing normally. My husband snores really loud, and tends to have a stuffy nose a lot, so I cannot sleep in the same room with him if I don't have my headphones. If I had to, I would find something sharp and puncture my ear drums. It causes that much anxiety that I sincerely want to lose my hearing.

I'm down to my last pair of headphones, and when I couldn't find them at first I had a severe melt down. I wear them to bed due to my husband snoring, and I want to stay near him. I sometimes rest my hand on his back to feel him breathe, and when I wake up screaming due to nightmares, he always wakes up and holds me until I stop crying.

I know this is a long post just to ask for earbuds, but they work best for me and my sanity depends on them. If you can, I'd love it if you were able to slide one or two my way. I'm not picky on color, so my amazon wish list link is here: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/GTTJGT54GKDN

If you want another way, my cashtag is $JustAddOtter.

THANK YOU SO MUCH IN ADVANCE! My disability case is still going slowly through the pipes, plus when it goes through I'm going to have to pay $85 out of pocket for some blue lenses which will help with the seizures.

Also, may the assholes who removed headphone jacks from phones always have angry wasps land in their ears.

TL;DR: I need new headphones to help with my disability.

BTW, no guilt in not donating or even not reblogging but I would appreciate a sage nod of understanding when you read this.

EDIT: Thank you to those pointing out that my wishlist wasn't working properly, it's all fixed!

[druidshollow]

mask idea. i want the plate on top to vaguely resemble his face as an iterator but i might tweak it idk. i also wanted the shape of the mask to resemble flowers' mask, which makes sense since they have such similarly shaped faces

[shadedheart138]

Too Much Thinking Is Bad For My Health (Part Two)

Several hours had passed, and Wars hadn't woken. If anything, he'd gotten worse. Wind and Time refused to leave his side, Wind holding one of his hands and Time constantly checking and rechecking him over. Wind's sobs had long been quieted, but his eyes were red-rimmed and still teary.

Wars' breathing had stayed painfully shallow and he'd barely moved once. Hyrule had tried his magic, hoping to ease at least some of his brother's pain, but it hadn't touched the agony. Legend had pulled him back with a tired, remorseful expression on his face.

Four was curled up against Wild, still shaking and talking to themself. Their colors refused to be quiet. Twilight had taken to pacing, while Sky just watched with fear.

"Are ya sure 's hemlock?" Twilight asked, for the upteenth time.

"Yes, Twilight. It's hemlock." Time said quietly.

"Are you-" "Hush." Legend snapped. "We're worried enough as is, we don't need you pacing and fretting and driving us up the fucking walls. Sit down."

Twilight wrung his wrists and frowned deeply, before sitting down near Sky. He seemed ready to leap up at any given second, but at least he was sitting.

There was no known antidote for hemlock. At all. Even the tiniest amounts were fatal. Potions didn't touch it, no amount of Hyrule's healing magic was able to help, and even the fairy that brought him back didn't treat it.

They could only hope he didn't die again. They only had three fairies amongst them all.

XXX

That hope was short lived, and before the end of the night, they were down to two fairies. It was Time who was up and pacing now, just as frantic as Twilight had been. Wind had been corralled to sleep near Four and Sky, held tight to try and keep him soothed.

"Are there any Fairy Fountains nearby?" Time asked Twilight, voice wavering and cracking in the middle. He was grasping at straws, trying to find some sort of way to keep his brother alive and make him better.

He refused to lose Warriors.

"Not that I can recall. But we can always go lookin'. There ain't many that I can actually think of."

"Fuck." Time whispered under his breath, crouching to run his hand over Warriors' forehead, feeling the still-climbing fever. They really shouldn't move him. He was frail enough as it were.

"Do you have a map, by any chance?" Time's voice was even quieter, now that he was closer to Warriors.

"No. Usually didn't need one, anyhow. If we weren't so far from Ordon, I'd say we take him to th' spring. But that's about a day's walk, at our normal pace, from here. It would take more time than I reckon he has."

It would. In maybe six, seven hours, Warriors had needed two fairies. He was barely hanging on. They only had two left, so maybe they had about seven hours, eight if they pushed it, to get to the spring before they were out of them. But the spring was the only chance they had.

No one in camp was really asleep. It didn't take long for Time to have them up and aware.

"Let's pack up camp. Sitting here, waiting, none of it is going to do Warriors any good. He'll only get worse. Hyrule, Wild, while camp's being broken, can you go looking for fairies? If we're going to get to Ordon in any reasonable time at all, we're going to need more than just two."

Wild and Hyrule went off into the woods, for once without the intent of play or exploring.

Time settled down near Warriors, and started packing up his brother's things. A notebook, his pens. Time folded his scarf neatly, hands trembling. How many times had he himself been wrapped in it, when he'd had one nightmare too many, or was too sick to get out of bed? No matter how bitter he was, during the war, he'd loved this scarf almost as much as the owner of it. It was a comfort, even now, as Time ran his hands over it.

Time opened Warriors' bag a little more to fit the scarf, not wanting it to get ruined. There really was no other place for it, other than someone's hands or Warriors' neck. The bag was crammed full of things, and even though there was so much, it was neat and tidy.

Time pulled out a book, hoping taking it and putting it somewhere else would make room for the scarf. He caught a glimpse of the cover.

Old and worn, this was the book that Warriors had used to teach both Wind and Time how to read and write.

Time's eyes immediately teared, and he held it with a gentle grip. Why did Wars still have this old thing? At the bottom, in Warriors' scraggly handwriting - not neat like he would for war papers - were the words "The Good Ones".

Good what, exactly? Time opened the book, seeing the simple, childish shapes and letters. He smiled, and turned to a dog-eared page.

Oh.

So this was what he meant by the good ones.

The good memories, of the war. There were pages taped over pages and scribbles and drawings. Many of them were Time's own, when he'd barely known how to hold a pencil. Some of them were Wind's, when he was older, of Wars, of Mask, of the seagulls and the flowers and the things that reminded him of family. Of home. Some of them were Warriors', of a sleeping Mask and Wind, of Proxi, of Artemis. Pages of Wind learning how to spell. Pages of Mask learning how to draw a cat that didn't look like triangles.

Time didn't realize he was crying until a tear dropped onto a lovingly laminated page. He gently wiped it, then his own eyes. He tucked the book back where it belonged, in Warriors' pack. The scarf could be held. It didn't need to get shoved in here, unorganizing things Warriors clearly had in certain places. Time got up, zipping up the pack.

Time made his way over to Wind, who was folding up his bedroll.

"Here. Can you hold onto this?" Time asked, holding out the scarf. Wind's eyes widened. "Are you sure? I- I don't-" "It won't fit in his bag, and I won't have the hands to carry it. Please."

Wind took it in shaking hands and just sort of looked at it. He hadn't lived the war yet. This version of him was still fourteen, hadn't seen everything that he and Mask could get up to. Hadn't seen Warriors two years before now, commanding an army. But he'd naturally gravitated towards Warriors. It wasn't hard to see who had won his favor first.

Wind carefully wrapped the scarf around his neck, having to do it three times more so that it didn't touch the ground. "Thank you." He said quietly.

Time had already made his way back to Warriors. It hurt to see just how thin and weak Warriors had gotten. How had Time not noticed? How did he let it get this bad?

Time carefully helped Warriors out of his bedroll, and moved him to lean against a tree. He was so out of it, he almost looked like a doll. Limp and fragile. Time packed up the bedroll quickly, then scooped Warriors up gently, like a child. Warriors' head was easily pillowed against Time's chest, and he seemed to cling to the cold, hard armor.

He held Warriors while everyone waited for Wild and Hyrule to return. It didn't take long, maybe four more minutes. Wild's face was muddy and Hyrule's hands were scraped.

"We didn't find many. They gave us a run for our rupees trying to catch them. We only got three." Hyrule's voice was slightly breathless.

Five fairies total. Maybe fifteen hours to get Wars to the spring, if his cycle of decline stayed the same. Time nodded. "You did what you could. Keep them close. Let's be off."

XXX

Warriors' cycle of decline did seem to stay consistent, even three hours later. One more fairy down. Twilight was heavily skeptical about reaching Ordon in time. Even with the brisk pace they'd set, it was hard to keep it.

There was no warning when Warriors started to seize, jolting Time out of the half-aware state he'd been in. It had been a frantic rush to get him on his side and stay near him, fairies at the ready if they were needed.

That was thirty minutes ago. Currently, they were surrounded.

Wolfos, and lots of them. Not to mention the lizalfos. Legend tossed Twilight one of his fire rods, and drew his sword. Hyrule stayed near Time, ready to heal. He'd never been a fighter. He would, if needed. But he would heal, before he fought. Time gritted his teeth.

They didn't have the time for this. Wild climbed a tree and readied his bow, and started letting ice arrows fly. Wind was fighting, Sky was fighting, Four was fighting, they were all around, getting rid of the enemies.

Time was standing there, doing nothing.

Time gently set Warriors down near Hyrule, but before he could take his hands away, Twilight put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go. Pick him back up, we can't afford to fight here. Th' others'll stay back and fight them off. We've gotta get him to th' spring." Time looked at his boys, his brothers. He didn't want to leave them to their own devices, what if they needed him? A shiver wracked Warriors' body, making Time look down. This brother needed him more than the others did.

"Alright. Let's go." Time whispered. He scooped Warriors back up, and with Twilight at his side, they bolted from the battlefield.

XXX

One fairy. They had one more left and they were several hours away from the spring. Running for so long was making Twilight wheeze, and Time had reluctantly made them take a break. Chest heaving, Time put his head in his hands and cried. They wouldn't make it to the spring in time, he just knew it. No matter how they rushed and ran, they wouldn't make it.

Time had failed.

Worst of all, he'd failed his brother. Someone who took care of him, who loved him, who taught him that all life was to be cherished. And Time couldn't even repay him the same favor. Warriors would be dead, by the next sunrise. Time would never hear his laugh, his teases, his advice, his comforting voice ever again. Time would never be able to forgive himself.

Twilight looked down at his hands. Eight hours, that's all they needed. They only had about three. They wouldn't make it. No amount of praying to Hylia to save Warriors would help. They just wouldn't make it.

Time had himself convinced of that fact, when Twilight scooped Warriors back up. He'd given up. They'd never reach the spring in time. He kept chasing his thoughts in circles, while Twilight watched him. What were they going to do? XXX

holy shit the people who reblogged this, that messaged me, that read this, holy shit. You guys are amazing! This part two is for all you guys because WOW. I didn't think it'd be received with so much enthusiasm! But guess what? I'm gonna have to make a part three >:)

@rrainydaydreams, @rebornofstars I thought you guys would like to know :)

[written-by-jayy]

Prompt #7

Carbon Monoxide Poisoning

Masterlist

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I don't think I've ever seen Carbon Monoxide poisoning in whump...

I mean, there's just so much potential!

Characters falling ill with some mysterious sickness, everyone in the house having similar, if not the same symptoms.

Maybe it's just dizziness, fatigue, headaches, muscle aches, and nausea. All things that are inconvenient, and after a certain point, become worrisome and quite concerning but not life threatening and some might just brush off. Maybe if they live alone they think they're over-dramatic or that their age or past experiences are finally getting to them. If they have roommates, maybe they chock it up to food poisoning or seasonal allergies being extra bad or maybe it's all the studying, work, and/or parties. Some could even think it's a virus of some kind.

But it continues to get worse. With things like seizures, hallucinations, and disorientation making a character who lives alone think they're going completely insane or maybe they finally go to the hospital because y'know. Seizures. If they're roommates, then wow, that's some bad food poisoning. Or they've been having some awful trips lately.

Anyway, eventually if nothings done about it, it can leave a character or two comatose or even eventually dead.

Just seems quite whumpy and with a ton of potential. Whether it's a sickfic, environmental whump, etc.

Not to mention; what about a recovering whumpee? What or who are they hallucinating? This sure would make physical and mental recovery a hell of a lot harder. Especially when the caretaker is extremely ill and experiencing similar symptoms as the whumpee.

Would be a shame if this happened to your poor recovering blorbos :(

[pomeraniandancer]

I bought BG3 three weeks ago, and I adore Karlach as much as the next person, but speaking as someone who has had an external fixator (and still has some internal fixation), MY GOD do those rivets look painful.

I'm obviously still pretty early in the game, but thus far it seems Larian missed an opportunity to include a chronic pain aspect to her infernal engine storyline.

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

I don't think people talk enough about how many head injuries Ballister experiences throughout the duration of that film (which without the timeskips takes place over like... A week???)

He gets railed in the face with debris so hard that it knocks him unconscious for several HOURS during which (per Nimona, who may have been joking tbf) he hits his head numerous times on curbs

He headbutts a knight who is wearing a HELMET hard enough to knock him unconscious or at least daze him, which couldn't have left Ballister completely unscathed

AND he presumably gets hit in the face/head a few times when being beat up by Todd because we can see bruises and marks around his face and he seems to be struggling to remain conscious

Any head trauma (especially one severe enough to knock a person out) can cause serious, long-lasting problems. Repeated head trauma in a short span of time is known to cause even more severe and enduring problems. Seizures, memory problems, balance issues, emotional dysregulation, vision problems, just to name a few (and depending on what part of the brain sustained the most damage)

Anyway what I'm saying is Ballister probably walked away with even more permanent damage than just the severed arm and the substantial psychological trauma.

And also Nimona probably felt extreme guilt because she just forgot how fragile humans were when she let him hit his head when she dragged him home even though that's probably not what caused most of the issues

What I'm also saying is I might be making an AO3 account (I'm late as hell to the party I know) to explore this and some of the other headcanons I've made (re: the Ambrosius beat up Todd post)

Edit: I'm just waiting on the Ao3 Invite (I was not aware of that rule and in classic Me Fashion decided I wasn't even going to attempt to make an account until my fic was already completely completed :,) so I am just sitting on the finished piece for the next 3 weeks

[crabussy]

I'm good I'm fine. almost had a startle seizure and had a panic attack immediately after but noo I understaaand he wanted to demonstrate adrenaline.... its not like there are dozens of people in the audience who would be extremely affected by an extremely loud noise such as people with sensory issues. people with severe anxiety. people with trauma stemming from abuse. people with heart issues. people prone to startle seizures. people coming from warzones. hooooly SHIT that is so not okay

[mrgoodenough254]

Ok I'm going insane. This anan

[sicknessbysalem]

Novemetober (Rescheduled) | Day Sixteen

prompt: waking up puking

hi yes sorry i died for a week. things were rough.

i swear i have other ocs. but something about making novak puke his pretty little guts out makes me happy inside. and i felt like that was a better thing to come back and write.

@monthofsick

if you have any questions, comments, or requests, feel free to send them.

tw emeto, fever, exhaustion, seizure mention (but no actual seizures this time)

Novak stood on the sidelines of the football field, observing the players as they ran through defensive drills. As the defensive coach for the Mavericks, he felt a sense of responsibility to ensure the team was performing at their best. Whether it was the defensive line, the offensive line, or even himself. Novak wanted everyone to perform at their best, even in practice.

For himself, he was desperate to perform at the top of his game, even though he was sidelined. He had to do well. He needed to prove that it wasn't a waste to move him to the coaching position that was open when he couldn't play anymore, not safely anyway. And usually, Novak was good at what he did. He was tough, but not relentless. He was determined for his team to do the best they could do, even in practice, and would hardly accept anything else.

But today, he felt like he was failing them. Novak couldn't shake off the feeling of exhaustion that seemed to weigh him down with each passing minute.

The sun beat down relentlessly on the field, intensifying the heat and adding to Novak's discomfort. Despite the temperature, he felt a chill run through his body, accompanied by a persistent ache in his muscles. Novak rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the throbbing headache that had been plaguing him all morning.

As the practice continued, Novak found it increasingly difficult to focus on the drills. His movements felt sluggish, and he struggled to keep up with the fast pace of the players. Every step seemed to take more effort than usual, and he couldn't shake off the feeling of fatigue that weighed heavily on him.

Still, Novak pushed through, determined not to let his team down. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep moving, ignoring the protests of his tired body. He couldn't afford to show any weakness, especially not in front of his players. He didn't even know why he felt so... bad. Yuliya had been sick, he took care of her. But surely, Novak told himself, that wasn't what caused that. It couldn't be. Not right now.

He checked his watch briefly. His heart rate looked fine. He didn't feel like he was really at risk for a seizure, so at least that was good. He sighed to himself, before going back to his clipboard and resuming his duties, taking off his sweatshirt in hopes to make himself feel at least a little better.

As practice dragged on, Novak's condition only seemed to worsen. The pounding in his head grew more intense, and a wave of nausea swept over him. He staggered slightly, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

Despite his best efforts to hide his discomfort, one of his assistant coaches noticed Novak's struggle.

"Hey, Novak, you alright?" Kyle asked, concern evident in his voice.

Novak forced a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, just a little tired. My girlfriend, she was sick over the weekend. SO I'm just a little worn out. Nothing to worry about."

But Kyle wasn't convinced. "You don't look so good. Maybe you should take a break, get some water or something."

Novak shook his head. "I'm fine, really. I'll tough it out."

With a shrug, Kyle reluctantly backed off, but Novak could tell that his condition hadn't gone unnoticed. He cursed himself for not being able to hide it better. The last thing he wanted, especially after the incident in July, was for anyone to be paying extra close attention to him. Even for a short time.

As practice continued, Novak struggled to keep his focus, his vision blurring at the edges. Each passing minute felt like an eternity, and he counted down the clock until he could go home and crash. Maybe that was all he needed, an early night and he would be fine in the morning.

-

Novak had hardly stepped in the door when his mom came out. She immediately noticed the fatigue etched on his face and the weariness in his eyes, he could see her worry on her face. The thought made him feel guilty.

"Novak, you don't look well," Marina said, her voice filled with worry.

Novak forced a smile. "I'm just tired, Mom. Yuliya was sick over the weekend, you know... I took care of her. And took care of Elya. I'll probably just go to bed early tonight."

Marina studied him for a moment, unconvinced by his explanation. She knew her son well enough to sense when something was off, and today, Novak seemed more than just tired.

"Are you sure that's all it is?" Marina pressed, placing her hand on his shoulder, "Do I need to call Willow?"

"I'm not going to have..." Novak couldn't make himself finish the sentence, "I'm fine. I'm just tired."

"Alright, słoneczko," Marina said, trying to hide her concern. "Why don't you sit down and rest? I'll make us some tea."

Novak nodded gratefully, sinking onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Marina disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Novak alone with his thoughts, trying to piece together why exactly he felt so fucking exhausted. He was tired, but it was more than that. Something told him it was much more than that.

Before he knew it, Novak's eyelids grew heavy, and he succumbed to the irresistible pull of sleep. Unaware of his own actions, he drifted off into a restless slumber, his body craving the rest it so desperately needed.

-

Yuliya's hands running through his hair are somehow incredibly comforting and makes his skin crawl at the same time.

He opened his eyes, staring at the living room ceiling. His head was pounding, the living room lights made him cringe and close his eyes again.

"You're sweating..." Yulia said, he heard the sound her her rubbing her hands on her leggings, "Do you feel okay?"

Novak mustered a weak nod in response to Yuliya's question, though he knew it was far from the truth. His body felt like it was on fire, and each movement sent waves of nausea rippling through him. Novak struggled to form a coherent response, his mind fogged by fatigue and the relentless throbbing in his head. He managed a weak nod, though he knew it wasn't entirely truthful.

"Just tired," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just need some rest."

Yuliya's brows furrowed with concern as she observed Novak's pale complexion and the sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. She reached out to touch his cheek, her hand coming away warm and clammy.

"You're burning up," she said softly, her worry palpable in her voice. "I think you might have a fever."

Novak's stomach churned uneasily at her words, a wave of nausea washing over him. He swallowed hard, trying to push back the rising tide of sickness threatening to overwhelm him.

"I'll be fine," he insisted, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

Yuliya's expression softened with understanding as she gazed at Novak with unwavering concern.

"Let's get you to bed," she said gently, offering him a reassuring smile. "You need to rest."

"I have to get Elya from-"

"Your mom took care of it," Yuliya said, "She's worried. Come on, lets get you in bed..."

Yuliya helped Novak to his feet, supporting him as they made their way to the bedroom. Novak's legs felt like lead, each step a struggle against the mounting exhaustion and dizziness.

Once they reached the bed, Novak sank down onto the mattress with a weary sigh, his body feeling heavier than usual. Novak laid on top of his sheets. He felt entiely uncomfortable, and though he felt slightly cold, he was sure the added feeling of sheets on his skin would send him into an overstimulated spiral.

Yuliya sat beside him, gently brushing her fingers through his hair, carefully detangling the ash blond locks that grew tangled from how wet they were from sweat.

"Do you want to change?" Yuliya asked.

Novak thought about it. And he thought about not changing. Just dealing with it. But, he figured he would probably be more comfortable. So, he nodded, forcing himself to his feet and grabbing a change of clothes. Yuliya looked away, occupying herself by picking things up off the floor. Her clothes, his clothes, she tossed them in the bin.

"I'll probably wash these when you fall asleep, okay?" Yuliya said.

Standing made Novak dizzy, he grabbed his dresser as he pulled on some comfortable clothes. He almost didn't answer, his brain not cooperating.

"You don't have to," Novak said, laying back down.

Yuliya sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing Novak's shoulder. Yuliya was the only exception in terms of his touch aversion. At least, to a degree.

"Try to get some sleep," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Novak's clammy forehead. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

Novak nodded weakly, his eyelids already drooping with fatigue. He closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would offer some relief from the relentless ache in his head and the queasiness in his stomach.

Despite the exhaustion, Novak drifted in and out of consciousness. Each time he surfaced from the depths of sleep, Novak found himself enveloped in a fog of disorientation and confusion. His head throbbed with an intensity that seemed to reverberate through every fiber of his being, pulsing with each beat of his feverish heart.

His room is dark when he finally managed to pry his heavy eyelids open, the world swam in a dizzying haze before him. The room spun around him, tilting and swaying with each movement, leaving him feeling nauseous and unsteady, even as he laid down. He felt the weight of Yuliya behind him, her hand resting on the side of his head, as if she dozed off while lightly scratching the side and back of his head with her nails, as she always did. It was comforting, it made him feel better. Usually.

Now her hand just rested there, a surprinsingly comfortable pressure he could focus on that wasn't the nausea, wasn't the headache.

His stomach churned with a queasy unease, threatening to rebel against him at any moment. Novak clenched his jaw tightly, willing himself to hold back the waves of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. Despite his best efforts, he could feel the telltale signs of impending sickness clawing at the back of his throat, a bitter taste flooding his mouth with each ragged breath he took.

Novak's limbs felt heavy and leaden, as if weighed down by an invisible force that sapped him of his strength and vitality. He longed to rise from the suffocating confines of his bed, to escape the oppressive grasp of illness that held him captive.

But try as he might, he found himself trapped in a state of being unable to muster the energy to move. He tasted saliva in his mouth, swallowing hard and shuddering against it.

The slight shudder must have woke Yuliya. He heard her behind him, heard her hum softly and sit up, reaching over him to turn on his lamp on his nightstand, Yuliya's concern deepened as she watched Novak struggle, his pale complexion contrasting starkly against the rumpled sheets of the bed. She could see the distress etched into the lines of his furrowed brow, the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his clammy skin.

"Novak, are you alright?" Yuliya's voice was laced with worry, her hand brushing over the side of his face, pushing back sweaty hair. He glanced at his watch, his phone was sitting on the nightstand. At least it wasn't that... she figured.

Novak couldn't even bring himself to shake his head at first. His throat constricted with the effort of holding back the rising tide of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. Every slight movement sent a fresh wave of dizziness crashing over him, leaving him feeling light-headed and disoriented.

He tried to will himself to move, to push past the suffocating weight that pressed down on him from all sides. He needed to get up, to run to the bathroom, or to his desk, where his trash can was. Something, anything. But his limbs felt leaden and unresponsive, as if anchored to the mattress by invisible chains that refused to loosen their grip.

As the minutes ticked by, Novak's resolve began to waver, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as the relentless onslaught of sickness tightened its grip around him.

"Novak.. Novak hey," Yuliya said, "What's wrong?"

Desperation clawed at his chest as he struggled to keep the roiling contents of his stomach at bay, his muscles tensed with the effort of holding back what he tried not to imagine was the remains of lunch and breakfast, and maybe dinner from the day before. He could finally move, briefly, only enough to cover his mouth with his hand.

"Shit," Yuliya said, starting to go to get up and grab something.

Novak shook his head. He needed to move, he tried to move. But he couldn't. That was when the panic started to set in.

Maybe he could just... breathe. Maybe he could settle his own stomach. Maybe, maybe.

But despite his best efforts, Novak could feel the telltale churn of his stomach intensifying with each passing second, a grim reminder of his body's relentless betrayal in the face of illness.

As soon as Yuliya set down the trash can, then he could move. He moved just enough to grab the bin. It was milliseconds vefore he started heaving, his body trying to purge whatever dared make him feel so disgusting.

Yuliya watched with a mixture of concern and helplessness as Novak's body convulsed with each violent heave, his features contorted in agony as he struggled to expel the contents of his roiling stomach.

She moved closer, her hand hovering uncertainly over his trembling form, wanting desperately to offer comfort but unsure of how to help.

"Easy, Novak," she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "Just let it out. You'll feel better once it's all out of your system."

Novak could only nod weakly in response, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rode out the storm of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He clung to the trash can with a white-knuckled grip, his knuckles turning pale with the effort of holding on.

With each retch and gag, Novak felt a small measure of relief wash over him. Each wave of sick made his stomach feel less tense and full.

At one point, Novak stopped briefly to take a breath. His body giving him a split second relief. But when the nausea kicked back up again, this time Novak knew he coulf make it to the bathroom. And make it to the bathroom he did.

He bolted, abandoning the trash bin, knowing there was more in his system. Sure enough, as soon as he was on his knees if front of the toilet he was vomiting again.

Yulia sat it the doorway. Wincing as Novak retched up more and more waves of sludge from his stomach. Waves of gods knew what. Yuliya moved a little closer.

Yuliya reached out a gentle hand to brush the sweat-dampened hair from Novak's forehead, her touch comforting.

Novak continued to heave for what felt like an eternity. But finally, finally he was left gasping, trying to catch his breath.

He looked at Yuliya, who offered a small smile.

“It’s gonna be a long night, my love…” Yuliya said softly. “But, I’ll be right here.”

[luringfantasy]

Seizure

main masterlist

Warning: seizure, self doubt, unnecessary guilt, I sometimes don't know how to write, hope, fluff

This was not the first time you've been to Asgard, but this was definitely your first time here in your official capacity. It being ‘fiance of the crown prince’. You were the future queen. But you had another queen to worry about. You were meeting Frigga today.

You saw her from time to time, but you were extremely intimidated by her and very shy. And the kind person (goddese) she was, she didn’t push you out of your comfort zone. At least not until last week, where she strongly insisted on meeting you in person and getting to know you.

So here you were, walking with Loki, hand in hand, going to have a picnic lunch with your future mother-in-law in her favourite garden. She wasn’t there when you both arrived at your destination. So you waited admiring the garden.

It was only a few minutes later that you suddenly started feeling unwell, you panicked knowing what was happening and immediately sat on the ground. You didn’t have time to explain to Loki what was happening, but turns out you didn't need to. Everything happened super fast, you sat down, and so did Loki. He crouched behind you, pulling you into him, lettin you take his support. At the same time you heard footsteps and realised that Frigga had arrived . Shit, you didn’t have time you.. were not in control anymore. All you could do was close your eyes and let it pass. Your bosya nd mind felt like two different entities, you were desperately trying to grab the steering wheel, but like all other times it was futile, your body was jerking around, while Loki calmly held you, making sure you didn't hurt yourself. And all you could do was endure this. After a few minutes of this, which felt like hours to you, calm darkness came over you.

When you woke up, the first thing that hit you was the soreness in your body, every muscle in your body felt stiff and sore and tired and fck it was oerwhelming. Then embarrassment and guilt hit you, you didn’t wanna open your eyes and come back to the real world just yet. You always felt very vulnerable during and after your seizures but it didn’t have to be today. It was unfair, it could have been any day, any other day, but it was today. Right when you were going to meet queen Frigga, right when she wanted to get to know you. Why did it have to be today?

POV Loki

To say he was worried would be an understatement. He knew that the hard part of this was over. And to an extent he was very happy that it happened in his presence. He could not fathom the thought of this happening to you when he wasn’t there to make sure you were okay. He knew that he couldn’t help you any other way just yet. But he wanted to make this as easy on you as possible.

He was in the middle of giving instructions to the roya; chef on how to make your comfort food when he heard you wake up. You didn’t open your eyes yet, but your breathing turned uneven.

He dismissed the cook and waited for you to wake up. He knew that you were up but when you didn't open your eyes for minutes he got concerned. He walked over to the bed and gently sat down beside you, running his hands through your hair, hoping to convey his torrent of motion for you. He wanted to tell you how concerned he was, he wanted to make you feel the love he has for you, and he wanted to tell you that he was there, right by your side.

Your POV

You felt Loki sit beside you on your bed and him running his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp. Some of the stiffness immediately left your body by having him there with you. But you were not ready to face him just yet. You hoped that sleep would take over you, so you would have a few more hours for yourself. You messed up and didn’t know what you could do to fix it.

Loki’s sweet presence made your heart heavier and soon you could not control yourself. You turned to face him, pulling him to face you, hiding your face in his stomach, wrapping your arms around his waist while his hands moved to trace patterns on your back.

He pulled away from you when he heard you sobbing, “are you hurting?” he asked softly. Yes you were hurting, but the mental agony was more than the physical pain you were in. You told him that you were fine, but he wanted to know the source of your tears so he could take the pain away.

“I am sorry Loki.” you begged him through your words so he would forgive you eventually. “What for?” he asked, confused. You knew that it was a special event and it was ruined. The more you explained the more he was confused. After minutes of you explaining, he stopped you. “Did anything that happened today under your control?”, “of course not!” you exclaimed. “Then there is nothing to apologise for love.” he calmly told you. You knew this but you were still upset. Before you could say anything else, the guards stationed outside your room announced that queen Frigga arrived.

“How are you dear?” she asked you calmly, the kindness in her voice resembled Loki’s. “Your majesty” you bowed your head, “I am better now, I am so-” “That’s great”, she cut you off before you could apologise to her. You saw her nod to the guard, and within seconds a few servants walked in with picnic baskets and multiple vases of flowers you were admiring in the garden. The vases were placed around your room, after which the servants left. 

Then Frigga asked Loki to leave. Loki pulled you a little close to him, not expecting, like you, for his mother to ask that. “Mother, I believe that she needs rest right now.” Frigga simply smirked at her child, happy to see how deep his emotions ran for you. “And she will rest, with me here of course. I still need to get to know my daughter better.” You both were taken a little aback by her address of you. But you both smiled at her. Loki was still confused as to why she wanted him out.

“My child, you need to see the healers, they have been doing the research and you need to guide them.” What research? What healers? you thought, but before you could ask Loki rushed out without sparing you a second glance.

You looked at queen Frigga for some answers. “You know I had a friend once, a midgardian, who suffered the same misfortune, I could not help her that time though.” She continued setting up a plate of fruits for the both of you. Gesturing you to keep sitting when you started to get up to help her. She continued, “Loki has gone to see the healers, because they have been researching the cause and cure for this. He started this research program a couple of years ago.”  Couple years? You and Loki started dating 14 months back. So that means he started the program when you were friends. This new information melted your heart and your love and admiration for him increased ten folds.

Frigga sat on the bed beside you handing you a fruit plate. You tried apologising to her, but she restarted what Loki said that this was not under your control, and this was nothing you should feel ashamed of or guilty for. You continued to discuss what makes you feel better and she insisted that you spend the rest of your day in the room resting. 

You spent the next couple of hours chatting to her, asking about Loki and Thor’s childhood. Loki would get angry later when he realised what secrets his mother divulged. But you wouldn't have it another way.

Big credit to @kaylalikesmanythings for sharing her experience with me, I wouldn't have been able to write this without the help! 💚

[erebus-the-answer]

Here are my sprite edits of what I think Ryuji and Yusuke's moms might look like! Yusuke's mom, I named her Tsumugi, and Ryuji's mom I named Saeko! I put some more detailed descriptions about both of them under the cut!

Keep in mind that everything under the cut is mostly my headcanons and only vaguely makes sense to the actual p5 lore lol

Tsumugi Kitagawa:

In an AU where Tsumugi didn't die due to Madarame's negligence, I find myself liking the idea that the moment when Madarame refused to try and save her life was the moment when Tsumugi would decide to turn her life around for the sake of her son. Leaving Madarame's abusive hold on her and her son with nothing to her name besides the clothes on her back, Tsumugi and Yusuke found themselves at a women's shelter. It was there where she met Ryuji and Saeko for the first time, but only briefly.

Tsumugi eventually got herself on her feet, but times were still tough for the single mother and her son. They managed to find a small room together, but it certainly wasn't the best way to live.

After a few years of quiet living for Yusuke and Tsumugi, with no more willing pupils left at his atelier and with a sudden change of heart, Madarame confessed to the abuse and plagiarism that he committed. He released to the public that Tsumugi was the true painter of The Sayuri.

Almost instantly life changed for Tsumugi and Yusuke. Tsumugi was offered almost endless deals with TV companies, movie producers, and interviewers. Because of stress being bad for her epilepsy, Tsumugi turned down all of the offers that she was given besides one: the chance to teach at Kosei High. She settled with this, and because of her status as a teacher and Yusuke's great skill, he was offered a scholarship! Saeko Sakura: Saeko Sakura (maiden name Uryuu) is Ryuji's mother.

She was a young, dumb, punk teenager when she first met Ryuji's father, a member of one of her favorite bands. He was also a teenager.

Ryuji wasn't a planned pregnancy, and when Saeko found out that she was pregnant, she went and told Ryuji's father that he had to take responsibility. He begrudgingly married her and settled down with her, but he always resented her and Ryuji for it.

Following the Persona 5 canon, Ryuji's father was verbally and physically abusive to his wife and son. unlike in canon, instead of his father up and leaving, it was Saeko and Ryuji who left, finding themselves in a womens shelter for some time.

Saeko's carer as a nurse helped the two of them to find another place to live fairly quickly, though because of this, Saeko found herself working many bizarre hours.

Eventually, she ended up meeting Sojiro Sakura, a man who worked at Cafe Leblanc which she frequently visited. She instantly found a sort of attraction the man, but she was certain that he was married to a certain Wakaba Isshiki because the two of them had two children together. She later came to find out that they were in a different sort of family arrangement and the two of them were more platonic than anything. She found love and a new family in Sojiro Sakura and his children, and they lived happily ever after!

[sh00kspeared]

I just came up with a headcanon and I’m not okay

So one day Vince is having a nightmare, wakes up in a cold sweat. Johnny, being incredibly perceptive of V's needs, wakes up too. He begins cuddling him and comforting him, which helps, but Vince still can’t go back to sleep.

So, finally, Johnny grabs his guitar and gets the idea to sing him the song Vincent by Don McClean. Of course, Johnny’s voice makes V feel incredibly safe and drowsy and he ends up falling back asleep with his head in Johnny’s lap (bonus points for the fact that Johnny kind of hums over the line ‘you took your life as lovers often do’ instead of singing it since Vince attempted suicide back in his twenties and he doesn’t want to remind him of that).

Eventually, Vincent kinda becomes one of Johnny’s special songs for V— while it is, in reality, a depressing song about Van Gogh’s difficult life, Johnny sees it as something somewhat hopeful. The usage of Vince’s full name (the one that only people who know him ‘real well’ can call him), the fact that the lyrics tell him he’s beautiful, the melody being soothing enough to lull Vince’s insomniac ass to sleep in seconds— is what he finds special about the song. He sings it to him when he’s sick, when he’s having a cyberdeck seizure, when he’s having trouble sleeping, or just when his man’s looking a little more stressed than usual.

Just… Johnny singing Vince songs. Yes.