#only for him to tell me my regular headaches are Also Migraines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

what-plant-metaphor-am-i · 1 year

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Mysteries and Migraines, Part 2

Part 1 here~ A continuation of an AnS poll story where your votes influence what happens next! ;D This part is much longer than part 1. We are getting INTO IT now. Let's finally dive into part 2!

Charging around a corner she bumps into Obi, ricocheting backwards much like a ping-pong ball off an unmoved and bewildered paddle.

Bracing for the impact of the cold stone floor on her behind, she suddenly feels a firm grip around her wrist and her trajectory is cut short. They stand in what looks like an awkward dance flourish for a moment; Obi lunging forward to grab her arm and Shirayuki still leaning backwards but now stable. Some passers-by applaud.

“Obi! I’m so sorry!” Shirayuki gabbles breathlessly, straightening up, her head swimming slightly. The shock in Obi’s face gives way to mockingly raised eyebrows and he peers curiously behind her. Shirayuki turns to see what he’s peering at.

“Escaped your pursuers then?”

“Eh?”

“From the way you crashed into me I thought someone was hot on your heels – wait, don’t tell me – Kazaha’s moved on from arm-wrestling challenges to races now?”

“Obi,” She groans with a smile, barely keeping herself from jogging on the spot, “I’m late! For work!”

For the merest second he looks confused, but then he shakes his head wearily and folds his arms.

“Oh my lady,” He sighs, “What to do with you. Delinquency is no joke. Late every day, clearly hung-over again-”

“Obiiii,” Shirayuki edges by him, sneaking her toast (that he had also somehow managed to catch earlier??) from his grasp.

“I know a short-cut.”

She pauses and looks back at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“It involves climbing, doesn’t it,” She says warily.

He flashes her an angelic smile.

“Only if you don’t want a piggy-back ride~”

---

“How is this a short-cut??”

“Hold on!”

Shirayuki grips his shoulders as they drop from the tree, Obi landing as naturally as a cat.

“We have arrived!” He announces grandly, lowering her down by a window. Shirayuki pinches the bridge of her nose for a second, trying to shake the nausea and the headache still banging around her head.

“Bagel?” Shirayuki opens her eyes a sliver to glare at the fresh bread, held directly under her nose so she could smell the salt and rosemary baked into it wafting up in the warm steam.

“Short-cuts shouldn’t include snack breaks Obi,” she mutters.

“Then the short-cuts you know are severely lacking.” Obi admonishes. “That bakery was on the way anyhow! And since you dropped your toast on that poor guys head-“

Shirayuki covers her face in her hands, an anguished noise escaping from behind them.

“Why were we so high up-“

“Hey, you’re here now! C’mon!” The window is open and Obi promptly lifts her up and plonks her onto it’s ledge.

“Delivery!!”

Shirayuki panics. “Wait, I’m a mess! Have I got leaves in my hair?!” Obi leans an elbow on the ledge next to her.

“You’re a regular bird’s-nest, my lady. It’s a good look on you.”

“Well, that makes two of us then,” she says, reaching down to pick out a couple of leaves that have nestled into the bristle of his hair.

“Is this a thing you two do now?” Obi and Shirayuki startle at the voice, whipping around to see Ryuu inside the room, watching them thoughtfully.

“Ryuu! Good morning! Ah, what do you mean?” Shirayuki asks as she swings her legs round, careful to avoid the potted plants that clutter the inside window sill.

“You touching Obi’s hair. Is that a new…routine you’ve started? Like last ni-”

“OH - no no no,” Obi’s laugh fills the air forcefully as he pulls himself up onto the windowsill after Shirayuki, ducking his head down so they only get a glimpse of his reddening cheeks. His boots thud onto the tiled floor of the room and he swipes a hand roughly through his hair to dislodge any remaining tree-matter.

“I’m just too messy for my own good, little Ryuu,” he grins. Ryuu blinks at them, processing something silently. He turns to Shirayuki, who has finished dusting herself off and is now leaning a hand on the wall, her face scrunched into a frown while she takes steady breaths.

“Shiryauki…why are you here?” Shirayuki seems to come-to and snaps upright.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! I’ll work through lunch and stay extra-”

“But it’s your day off.”

Shirayuki’s mouth hangs open.

“…My…” a memory begins to shine through the fuzz of her mind. She hears a snort and turns to find Obi clasping a hand over his mouth. Yes. She had booked today off. She had gone out with them last night because she had known she could rest today. Except she had woken up having completely forgotten that. Obi was shaking with laughter.

“Obi – you knew! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!”

“Ah, my lady,” he wipes a tear from his eye. “I’m sorry. You were so sleepy and serious, I just had to play along.”

Shirayuki decides she’s too tired to care and slumps into a chair, relief flooding through her as she realises she has let no-one down and now she can finally sleep off this hangover. The bagel slides back into view. She accepts it from Obi’s hand and takes a massive bite.

A heavy sigh draws the attention of all three to the other side of the room. Yuzuri sits hunched over at a table, fiddling with some vials. Her chin sits squarely on the table-top, her face above it a picture of desolate defeat.

“Oh,” Ryuu starts to whisper, leaning towards Shirayuki and Obi. They mirror his movements and end up in a little huddle.

“Yuzuri is upset this morning. She explained it to us but I was, um, working at the time and only realised she was talking by the end of her story, so I’m not sure what the matter is.”

“MY PLANT SAMPLE” wails Yuzuri suddenly, causing the three to jump in unison, Shirayuki clutching her head.

“What about it?” Obi calls over. Yuzuri slumps further down onto the table than they thought possible, lying her head on one arm with a teary, wistful expression.

“It’s gone……”

“What happened?”

“….last night……” She takes a deep breath, shuddering under the threat of sobs, “…..I lost it…..when we were out…..my precious, rare plant sample……”

Shirayuki gasps, a hand raised to her mouth as she recalls Yuzuri showing everyone the sample so proudly the night before.

---

“Here it is, folks!” Yuzuri wobbles a little as she kneels up on the wooden stool, stretching her arm to wave the pouch above their heads.

“My prize specimen! My greatest achievement-”

“My beer!” Suzu yelps, hugging the tankard to his chest as her arm swings the pouch dangerously close.

---

Shirayuki steps gingerly over to Yuzuri’s crumpled form and places a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, since I don’t have anything on today I’ll look for it.”

Yuzuri peers up at her, hopeful.

“Really? But…how? We went all over the place yesterday, I don’t know where I lost it…”

“I’ll re-trace our steps, I’ll ask people. Don’t worry, I’m on it.”

“Me too,” Obi says, walking over, “No offence, my lady, but it might help to have my memory to fall back on.” It’s true, if anyone would remember specifics from last night, it would be Obi and his ridiculously high alcohol tolerance. Yuzuri shoots upright and crushes them both in a hug that feels more like a headlock.

“Thank you, thank you!! Find it and I’ll owe you guys big time!”

---

“Lists!!”

Obi takes a notepad and pencil from a table they were passing; so nimbly Shirayuki barely sees it happen. The pencil has a chewed end. Obi wrinkles his nose and, without breaking his stride, deftly swaps it for a different one.

“I’ll write down the places we went to last night, and the people who were there. Basically, where to go and who to speak to.”

They discuss amongst themselves while walking through the corridors, Obi recording everything in the notebook. Altogether their group had been: Yuzuri, Shirayuki, Obi, Ryuu, Suzu, and Rata, who had left early.

They had all met at the tavern, then walked through the market while dropping Rata off at his place, and finally gone to the inn for tea (since, Obi recounts with bitter humour, the only ‘refreshment’ Rata had offered was the scattering of snow that fell on them from his door's lintel as he shut it in their faces).

They step out of the Pharmacy door into the brightening sunshine and Shirayuki shields her eyes with a grimace. She notices Obi watching her expectantly and quickly tries to turn the grimace into a look of determination.

"Right. It makes sense to check out the tavern, but Rata's shop is on the way there, so let's stop by and ask him about it first."

Obi nods, walking in step with her.

"Great idea - I have a hunch that Rata has some beans to spill about all this," Shirayuki blinks, wide-eyed at him.

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

He smiles slyly.

"See, when Yuzuri was waving that pouch around last night at the tavern she almost knocked Suzu's drink out of his hand, so Suzu jumped backwards and hit Rata, making him spill his drink. Needless to say, Rata was less than pleased." Obi leans towards Shirayuki conspiringly.

"And you know what that gives him, My Lady?"

She shakes her head, listening intently. Obi grins, tapping his pencil on the notepad.

"A Motive."

Shirayuki's step sways slightly, mouth agape, staggered by this revelation.

"Oh my goodness...he could have taken the plant?! But - he'll never open up to us, Obi! We have to figure out a way of getting him to talk before we go in!"

They stop to brainstorm, crouching by a building down the street from Rata's.

"Ok, how about this," Obi starts, "We shoot a threatening note attached to an arrow through his window - I know, I know, sorry My Lady but it has worked on people other than you in the past - and the note says something like: 'I know what you did last night, 'fess up or else.' And, I mean, it doesn't have to be written in blood, but-"

"Obi," Shirayuki cuts him off, placing a hand gently on his arm, "Let's...circle back to that one. I was thinking something more along the lines of taking him a...a very...lovely...breakfast?"

Obi raises an eyebrow.

"Is that code for, like a dead animal on his doorstep or...?"

"Wha-no!!! No, it's something to get him in a good mood so he's willing to talk to us!! Gods, Obi!"

He laughs at her aghast expression.

"Ok ok, oohh wait, I've got it! Disguises! Tavern Police Detectives investigating the disappearance of a plant sample from their premises!"

"Hmm, I see a lot of holes in that plan, Obi. What about we tell him we'll owe him a favour if he talks to us? He's always busy with stuff he needs to get done in town or in the shop..."

#with part 1 I was both delighted and concerned at the amount of votes for Shirayuki to run into a pillar #😂#but Obi pulled through in the end! 👏👏#sorry for the delay in posting part 2! That's a thing I do apparently #anyway this is just for fun so expect surprise updates rather than a schedule!#thanks for reading and voting <3 #obi #shirayuki #obiyuki #yuzuri #ryuu #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #ans #mysteries and migraines #mysteries and migraines part 2 #mywriting

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servin-up-surveys · 1 year

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survey #125

What is your favorite middle name for a girl? It totally depends on the first name. I don't have a set favorite.

Which insect annoys you the most? Gnats.

How many proms have you been to? Two.

Do you prefer hard rock music or soft rock? I like both, but I prefer hard rock, generally.

Did you ever own a Furby? Yes.

What is your favorite type of dance? Modern. It's a hard type to really describe if you've not done or seen a lot of it, but I think the best way to put it is it's a very story-telling, emotive sort of dancing.

What was your first concert? Alice Cooper. Stiiiiill the only one I've ever been to, I want to go to more so badly.

Have you ever dressed up as a fairy? I don't think so, but for years now I've totally wanted to do a fae-esque photoshoot 😭

What is the most significant health issue you have been dealing with lately? I guess being pre-diabetic. I have no idea how that's changed since my last tests, but it's absolutely affected how I'm living and what's basically a fear of eating like, anything.

What was the name of the first guy/girl you dated? Aaron.

What was the name of the first guy/girl you went out on a date with? Jason.

When was the last time you had a headache? I'm quite positive I actually had a migraine last night. I was basically immobilized in bed by ~6PM and stayed there for the rest of the night, sleeping but waking back up multiple times, and I noticed it didn't respond to the maximum dose of Ibuprofen I took (at least, judging by how quickly it NORMALLY works), only sleep after a good number of hours. I was miserable, and this morning I didn't even wake up 'til around 10 despite lying down super early.

Do you get migraines? They're not a regular thing for me, no, thank fucking goodness. But I've definitely experienced them.

Have you ever had to go to a neurologist? Ye.

How many people do you know who work as hairdressers? List their names. I don't want to reveal the one I've seen since basically being a kid because her name is just really unique, but I also know one my mom sees named Anita. My friend Summer is also good with hair, and Chelsea was (I say "was" because I have no idea what she's up to these days career-wise), too.

Have you ever filmed any TikToks? No.

Have you ever filmed a video for YouTube? DON'T REMIND ME OF THIS LASKDJFAL;KSJD;LKAWJELKR

If you could meet any one YouTuber, which YouTuber would you choose to meet? Would you believe me if my answer was Markiplier lmfao

Do you have any stomach issues? Yes, basically all the women in my family have gastrointestinal issues, oddly enough.

When was the last time you had pizza? It was a good few days ago when my late grandmother's husband was driving through and stayed the night here as a midway point. He's a New Yorker, so we got (really shitty haha) NY pizza. It was super uncomfortable, they weren't married long and we don't know him well at all, like he's not family to me, but it helped that Girt was actually staying that night too so I felt safer. ... I should mention this 90-something y/o man is not a threat to like, ANYBODY, it's super obvious, but still, I didn't like a man I barely know whatsoever sleeping in the adjacent room from me.

Which name do you like better: Felicity or Fiona? I like both, but I think Felicity.

Can you see a teddy bear from where you’re sitting right now? Yeah, the big one Girt got me for Valentine's, haha. It sits on this chair in the corner that's always in my sight when I sit here, along with the Squishmallow he got me and the plush dog his mom gifted me.

Is anything on your body sore right now? My legs, actually. I think it's because I walked a long way (including up a slope) yesterday during PT progress tests.

Does anyone in your family have diabetes? It runs super heavily in my family, so yes. Mom does, as well as her mega shitty brother, and I'm entirely positive there are others, too. I just don't remember them.

When was the last time you went on a date with someone? Many months ago, Girt and I really don't go out much.

… and what was the name of the person you went out with? Girt.

Does your hair have natural highlights in it? Yeah, slightly lighter browns.

What is one type of fruit that you’d like to try that you’ve never tried before? Dragonfruit. It looks so weird.

Have you ever lived alone? No, and I absolutely, positively never want to. It would be SO unhealthy for me.

Would you rather live alone or with someone? Someone, obviously. I'd be horrifically depressed living alone; I literally already struggle on bad mental health days when Mom isn't home just for most of a single day.

Who was the last person who came to visit you? Girt.

Do you have family that you wish you could see more? Yeah. I basically never see my extended family, ever. I don't even know most of them. My mom's family is primarily in NY and Dad's is in Ohio/Michigan, and only my parents, us three daughters, and Ashley's kids live here in NC. My brother's family is in Tennessee, but you have to keep in mind that NC and TN are very long states, with mountains to traverse between them, so it's not exactly easy or quick to get there.

What was your first job? Sales associate at GameStop. I was the worst salesperson imaginable, lmao. Did not last long, and yet it was the longest job I had anyway.

Have you ever gone to the emergency room having a severe allergic reaction? No, thank god.

Who was the last music artist you listened to a song by? oh you know,,,,,,,,,,, this band I'm REALLY normal about,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Have you driven anywhere today? Nah. It's been super gross out today anyway.

Where did you get your favorite pet from? My favorite pet of all-time? Teddy came from the friend of a family friend, whose dog had a massive litter of puppies and needed homes. Lolita knew my parents were looking for a puppy for the family.

Have you ever called animal control on anyone? No.

What are your plans for the coming weekend? I'm certain we'll go to Ashley's for Easter, watch the kids do their egg hunt. I know Mom has baskets for the kids, too.

Is there someone who would support you no matter what? I mean, I would HOPE nobody. I don't want my loved ones to be supportive of me like, committing a murder. I don't believe in unconditional loyalty.

Is there any actual chance you could be pregnant right now? No.

Do you still get carded when you try and buy things you’re old enough to? It's super rare I try to, but I haven't been carded for a drink at a restaurant for a few years now, I think.

What was the last movie you saw in theaters? My answer to this has been The Black Phone for... holy shit, I think nearly a year now. I can tell you I am ABSOLUTELY dragging Girt to see the Barbie movie when it comes out though lmfao

Do you think the drinking age in the US should be lowered to 18? No.

Do you know anyone fluent in a really uncommon language? Quite sure no.

Would you rather visit Iceland for a week or Rome for a day? Ohhhhhh don't ask me that!!! I'm a TOTAL sucker for Roman architecture, and there are so many places there I want to see, but I still think Iceland wins. A day is just too short and besides, in general, I find Iceland prettier.

What were you doing at this time yesterday? At the time I'm answering this question, fighting to sleep in bed to get away from that migraine.

Do you believe most people are good people deep down? Most? Yes.

Who was the last person to see you cry? Girt. Not because of something he did, I was just having some personal problems. He was wonderful about it and helped me out of it.

When was the last time you slept in a bed with someone else? A few nights ago when Girt was here.

When was the last time you slept in a bed not your own? A couple months ago or something like that when my mom was doing something with my bed. I slept in hers, and she used the couch pull-out one.

When was the last time you slept on something other than a bed? Months ago on Ashley's couch while babysitting with Mom. I try mega hard to avoid that, because by like, the next day I will be so sore.

Who do you look more like, your dad or your mom? I've heard both, depending on who you ask. I don't know who I look more like, personally.

How do you feel about the last person you shared a kiss with? I love him with all my heart and hope I get to for the rest of my life.

Have you gotten the COVID vaccine? I got the first two doses of Moderna, but not the boosters, even though I should.

Who in your family is or was a marine? I know I have now-deceased men in my family who were, but idr who they were...

What is one thing you wish you hadn’t seen? Certain things Sara has called me since I ended our friendship that had already been dead for months. A couple things she said about me are unfuckingforgivable by me, and even though I know in my core they're false as shit, haunt me anyway because I have a subzero amount of self-esteem.

What is one thing you find serene? Birdsong. I don't get those people that hate hearing birds in the morning.

What are three things you disliked about being a teen? The political and religious morals/values I held then are #1, and then I also DEFINITELY got hit hard with mental illness and its symptoms, and I hated my acne, too.

For support, on whom do you lean? The primary people are my mom, Girt, Mazzy, and Tez. Others do occasionally, but not nearly as regularly as those four people.

Which color do you like better: tangerine or aquamarine? Aquamarine, I actually really like that color.

What is your favorite foreign cuisine? I suppose Italian, although granted I really haven't tried much foreign food.

Do you like the smell of gasoline? No, it actually gives me a bad headache.

Do you prefer towel drying, blow drying, or natural drying your hair? It's a mix of towel-drying and letting it dry naturally.

Have you ever been sledding? Yeah. There was a hill by my old house where our neighbors, my sisters, and I would use for that purpose. I also vaguely remember sledding down a really big hill when we visited my dad's family in Ohio.

Have you ever flown a kite? Yes, I loved to as a kid.

What’s your favorite milkshake flavor? Eh, I suppose chocolate is what I generally go for. But it varies with my mood.

How long can you balance on one foot? I really don't think I can do that yet because of my legs. We're getting there.

Do you have any scars? Yeah, at the very base of my spine (look it's literally at the top of my asscrack lmfao) from a cyst removal; that's probably my worst one, but I can't see it, so. I also have one on my chin, from when I fainted onto the bathroom floor directly onto it. I might still have faint scars on my shins from how I used to scratch them entirely raw after shaving, but I haven't shaved my legs in so long that I don't know and can't really tell with how dark and thick my hair is.

What did you want to be when you grew up? They ranged from paleontologist, vet, author/poet/artist in general, movie director, game designer, wildlife biologist, I had a super brief guitarist stint at the start of high school and an even shorter (and I mean VERY short) music video editor goal, and then the one that's stuck with me is a photographer. I think that's all of them.

How often do you buy new clothes? Extremely, extremely rarely.

Can you solve sudoku puzzles? I know how to play, yeah. I used to like it quite a bit.

What’s the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? Who knows, honestly.

Are you much of a gambler? No, that is behavior I never even want to try.

If your parents hated your current lover would you ditch him? My parents love him, but even if they didn't, no.

Do you prefer liquid soap or bar soap? Liquid, I hate bar soaps.

Who was the last person to knock at your door? Uh I think it was the guy yesterday who was doing something with our fire alarms and ceiling fans.

What’s the last thing you took a picture of? The azaleas growing beside our house. They're gorgeous.

Which is better: Mario or Sonic? Mario; I was never a Sonic fan. I'm not big into Mario either, though.

#survey #surveys #personal questions #random questions

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crownandwriter · 3 years

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Okay, if 4 isn’t necessarily too many, could I please request headcanons for how Sucrose, Kazuha, Zhongli, and Beidou (my personal favorites ❤️) would treat or take care of their sick partner? Lately my migraines have been out of control, and I wish I had someone to baby me a little…

I can absolutely do that, I hope you feel better! Kazuha is one of my favorites too I'm always thrilled to write him ;;

Kazuha

-Outside of serious illness, Kazuha prefers to care for you himself. He doesn’t mind spending a day or two in one spot while you recover, but as you can imagine he’s a little hesitant to march up to the door of a local healer as an anonymous, ARMED foreign swordsman unless your ailment is entirely beyond him. Also--and he won’t admit this unless asked--he’s fond of the intimacy in caring for his loved ones. It’s very domestic and, being a wanderer, that’s a feeling he doesn't often gets to enjoy anymore.

-In his travels, Kazuha has collected knowledge on all manner of obscure home remedies. The effectiveness of them is rather hit-or-miss...but they’re all rather harmless, at the very least. He’s more than willing to go out of his way for ingredients, especially once you find which cures work best for you. If all else fails, he’ll stock up on medicine the next time you two make a trip into a village proper.

-He knows there’s not much he can do beyond providing medicine and comfort, so he doesn’t let himself fret about the camp all day like it does any good. The only exception being when you’re not holding down any food. Then he begins to worry a little more.

-Instead, he gives you your medicine and helps you get comfortable. Usually he waits until you ask, but this time he’ll take initiative and offer his lap to you as a pillow. And would love it very much if you accept. He’s content to spend the day lost in his musings while you rest, massaging your scalp slowly with one hand. If you don’t sleep well, you’ll catch his soft humming as you flicker in and out.

Sucrose

-It’s a 50/50 shot that Sucrose has extensive knowledge on your ailment…or none at all. If she does have knowledge about it, she’s definitely also developed some medicines for it, and is very quick to whip them up for you. They’re really quite effective, too, it’s a wonder you haven’t seen her remedies in market stalls yet.

-If she’s clueless, she’s going to run out and drag someone back who does. More than likely, it’ll be Barbara. The entire time you’re being treated, Sucrose is asking questions, closely observing, learning. It’s partially for selfish reasons, to sate her ever-present curiosity, but also partially so she’s prepared to care for you next time.

-Once you’re treated and comfortable, Sucrose is really going to want to go back to her research. You’re going to sleep now anyways, right? You could just call for her if you need something? But it’s easy enough to talk her into staying with you. She says it’ll just be until you fall asleep, but you lay your head on her shoulder and she’s not so sure she can follow through with leaving….

-She gives very good back rubs, for whatever reason. Her hands are petit and soft, and careful lab work over the years has made her motions very steady. It can knock you out pretty quickly, outside of the pain keeping you up. Regardless of if you do or don’t sleep, Sucrose passes out within fifteen minutes, guaranteed. Her sleep schedule is awful and she needs the rest too. She’s not there to dote on you as much as the others, but she’s extra cuddly in her sleep so that makes up for it, right?

Zhongli

-A master of many medicines, really. Who needs Bubu Pharmacy when you’re thousands of years old and basically taught humanity all the tricks? That said, the best medicines he knows are expensive, take forever to make, and/or taste absolutely disgusting. ...but they do work. And will probably knock you out cold to make recovery easier.

-He’s the textbook doter of these four; he’s very attentive and gentle, especially while you wait for the medicine to kick in. There’s constantly a glass of cool water by your side--remember to stay hydrated. You must be hungry--this soup is very nourishing. Is the light bothering you--I’ll close the curtains.

-He’d love to lay with you while you rest, but is concerned about agitating any aches you may have. If you ask to be held, though, he’s all over it. He gets all the aforementioned stuff set up, and then crawls into his probably massive bed with you, one arm as your pillow and the other at your hip, rubbing the skin there softly with a thumb.

-If your headache isn’t so bad that noises bother you, he’ll softly tell you one of his countless stories until you fall asleep--like, who wouldn’t want to doze off to that voice? He may or may not fall asleep with you, but either way Zhongli will be there when you wake up.

Beidou

-For this scenario, you’re more than likely staying aboard the Alcor, in which case...well, supplies are limited at the best of times when you’re out at sea. There is a healer on staff, and Beidou wouldn’t hesitate to ask them to do what they can for you. But what they can do is limited.

-More than likely, there won’t be much medicine available. And as the Captain of the ship, Beidou can’t abandon her post to spend all day below deck with you either. That said, she does her best! She gets you tucked in comfortably, and blots out the portholes to keep the light out. If the rocking of the ship bothers you, she’ll give you the pillow from her bunk and fluff it up nice to try and cradle your head.

-Every other hour or so, she makes her way back down and spends some time doting on you. Her care is a little more...rugged? Than you may be used to, but her natural sisterly manner still manages to shine in these moments. If you’re asleep when she comes in, she’s content to pat your hair for a while and watch you finally at peace from your earlier discomfort. If you’re awake, her firm hand will massage your neck and temple to try and ease the tension. She speaks softly in these moments--mushy, loving words aren’t usually her thing, but they come so naturally in these moments you suspect Kazuha is rubbing off on her.

-If she can’t make it down for a regular check-in, she sends another crew member to peek in on you and keep her updated. She worries more than she lets on.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact imagine #kazuha x reader #zhongli x reader #sucrose x reader #beidou x reader #crownwrites #fluff #comfort

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adorerdraco · 4 years

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I’m Here ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: Hi, so I’m not sure if you’re taking these kinds of fics for Draco, but I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was wondering if you could write a one shot or a scenario where the reader has been having a really bad day/week and Draco comforts them? And maybe Draco lays the reader on his chest and he hums a small tune to make the reader feel better? You can ignore this if it’s an issue, but I’d really appreciate it. I love all of your fics btw! They make me really happy <3

Warnings: none bc mostly fluff, some tears, super soft!draco

Words: 1.9K

A/N: i saw this and had to do it effective immediately bc i am feeling the exact same wayyy so this was really nice to think about ;( thank you so much for requesting this and for reading my stuff and i’m so glad i can help in a way <3 i’m sending you nothing but peace, love, and light !!! but i really hope this is gooood <3 do not own gif

Life was punishing you, you thought. It had to be. Because there was no way how in the span of a week everything in your day-to-day life had gone from okay to borderline catastrophic. It was as if every situation you were in was taking its form in the worst case possible scenario and all you could do was watch hopelessly as things continuously got worse sprinkled with small misfortunes in between.

It started on a regular Monday morning, sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall with blissful ignorance. Halfway through eating your toast, your owl had come in through the open large glass windows and dropped a letter onto your plate from home that left you some very unfortunate news and had set forth a ripple effect that began making everything else go downhill as your days progressed. By the end of the school week, you had managed to blow up a potion, lose house points because of said potion when it splashed onto some people and had some physically altering effects, tripped over your footing and fell in the middle of a crowded corridor, failed a surprise quiz, forgot to turn in an essay, got into an argument with a friend, accidentally slept in and missed a morning class, and took a trip to the hospital wing for a migraine that didn’t want to leave you alone. You could’ve sworn you had somehow been thrown into purgatory, or limbo, or something outer-worldly.

“Are you alright?” Draco had asked you right after breakfast that Monday morning as he was walking you to your first class. “What was in the letter your owl gave you? You look worried.”

“It was nothing,” you dismissed quickly, trying to put on a half-hearted smile while you spoke to make it more convincing. “I’m fine, just tired.”

It was the beginning of the week, and he did keep you up late the night before when you were sneaking around together, so he just shook his head up and down and took your excuse even though he felt like there was more to it than you were letting on. But as the days went on, he was becoming more observant of the way you were acting and even looking. He didn’t like that every morning he saw the shadows under your eyes get deeper and darker, and he didn’t like how you would close your eyes in pain when you would groan about your headache. He also didn’t like the way he hadn’t seen you truly smile or laugh all week even when he tried countless times to amuse you or cheer you up. But what he didn’t like most of all was that he felt like there was nothing he could do.

On Wednesday afternoon, he tried asking you again. You were sitting in the Quad with him on a bench and he was telling you a story from earlier in the day about how he had ‘accidentally’ tripped this Gryffindor boy and got Snape to take away house points from him that he thought for sure would you make laugh or perhaps give him a disapproving redirection, but when he glanced up to see your reaction, he noticed you weren’t even listening, to begin with. You had been staring down at your shoes and the way they lined up against the cracks in the pavement, kicking around some gravel as your mind was running a million thoughts per second.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, e/c eyes widened slightly from being ripped away from your thoughts suddenly. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nodded warmly. “I’m okay, Dray. I’m honestly just tired.”

And you were telling the truth, in a sense. You really were tired; physically, mentally, emotionally.

He frowned, dissatisfied with your answer. “Right, well if anything at all comes up, I’m here.”

From then on, Draco took it upon himself to try and increase his affections and compliments. He would hug you a little tighter, kiss you a little longer, whisper sweet little nothings into your ear before he left you for class. You felt a little bad lying to him, withholding the truth from him, and you saw the concern in his light gray’s when you’d meet him in the mornings and for the rest of the day, but it only made you feel a tad bit worse. You were starting to feel guilty for the way he was worrying, feeling like you were dragging him down into the dumps with you and raining on his usual carefree parades.

On Friday morning, you didn’t meet him for breakfast and you were out of the Great Hall faster than he could catch you. He felt like a stalker when he walked by your class, peeking his head in to see if you were there and well. He spotted you sitting at your desk, hunched over your unopened books with a grimace on your face and your head in your hands. He wanted to go in and whisk you away to somewhere far and quiet, but the Professor had caught him by the door and sent him on his way before he could even think of doing anything of the sort.

You felt the day had gone by extremely slow, relative to how the week was moving and also impossibly dismal. You were counting down the minutes until the end of the school day, ready to run to your dorm right after your last class and bury yourself deep into your duvet and pillows for the rest of the weekend.

Head still pounding, you trudged over to your final class, stopping outside the doors when you saw a small group of your housemates standing around with unnerved expressions as they passed each other papers and spoke in hushed tensed tones.

“I studied all night but my friend took the test earlier and she told me during lunch that it had stuff on it that wasn’t even in the reading!” You heard one exclaim in distress.

“We have a test?” You accidentally said aloud and a pair of eyes turned to look at you confusingly.

“Yeah? Professor’s been telling us all week.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped your lips, an overwhelming sense of defeat washing over you as you turned briskly on your heel and in the opposite direction of your classroom. Tears started pricking at your eyes, you felt the stinging of them wanting to be released but you refused to let them all out in the open and especially in front of people who were still taking their time to head to their classes.

You were making a beeline towards your common room, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision that was quickly pooling with unshed tears while trying to steady your breathing in another failed attempt to calm yourself. You were nearly there, you could tell by the paintings and doors that you passed by and the black stain splattered on the floor you saw every day on your way to the dorms from someone’s dropped ink bottle that Filch hasn’t been able to get rid of.

Almost there, you kept repeatedly reminding yourself.

All hope of solace was gone when you didn’t notice the body you had unknowingly crashed into. All you felt were strong hands around your biceps, holding you in place from toppling backward and the very familiar scent of expensive cologne and mint.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you in class?” You looked up at the platinum blond sadly, his worried eyes searching yours with such care that it pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t answer him and instead wrapped your arms tightly around Draco’s middle, burying your face deep into his robes and letting out quiet and frail weeps that broke his heart. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to the top of your head and muttering soft “I’m here’s” into your hair. You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting your tears freely fall into his vest with a sense of relief that only he was able to give you at this point in time.

“I’m sorry I cried on you,” you choked out when you pulled away from him, desperately wiping away at your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” he said quickly. He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb swiping delicately over a stray tear that was sitting on your jaw while you closed your eyes in comfort. “Do you want to go back to my room? I can set you up really nicely and we can talk if you’d like?”

“Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

Draco interlocked your fingers with his, bringing the pair up to his lips with a warm kiss on the back of your hand before walking the two of you over to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was empty when you walked in, not a soul in sight since everyone was still in class and it made it much easier for him to sneak you into his singular Prefect room you were now extremely grateful he had. He watched contently when you shed off your robes and kicked off your shoes and immediately slipped into one of his dark green jumpers that fit you big.

You were perched on the edge of his bed, his scent from his sweater engulfing you and doing a much better job of calming you down than you wanted to admit. He followed in your footsteps and changed into something comfier and when he finally sat beside you with his hand falling over yours as an encouragement to talk - you did. You vented to him all about the letter from home, the migraine, your classes, the argument between you and your friend, and everything else that came to mind.

“And I feel bad for ignoring you and not telling you all this before but I didn’t want to burden you,” you finished with sniffles, gazing up at him with a gloomy expression.

“Y/N, I love you, and nothing you say to me is a burden,” he frowned slightly, “when I tell you I’m here, I mean it, for anything. You’re so important to me and it kills me to see you upset.”

In a careful movement, he had scooted towards you and affectionately cupped your face before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and murmured to you, “don’t ever hesitate to come to me.”

You let him pull you under his covers, draping his large duvet over your entangled bodies with your head resting right above his chest, the steady beatings of his heart instantly sending you into a much-needed peace. His chin was rested right atop your head and you felt his fingers run up and down your arm soothingly while he thought.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” He asked quietly.

“Can you help me fall asleep?” you muttered, closing your eyes gently when his hand smoothed over the back of your hair. You felt him nod against your head and after a small moment silence, you heard him begin to hum the faint tune of your favorite song.

You lied there in bliss, enjoying the way his chest was vibrating against your ear and the way his fingers were playing with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around his fingers and then moving upwards to massage your scalp. And for a minute, everything was finally okay again as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a full heart and with your love calmly lulling you away with a soft and now distant humming.

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 3 years

Text

How’s your head? Pt 1

Word Count - 2,600

Perspective - 2nd person

When - the Quarry, the day after “Quarter!” Find the Slowpoke Series and other stuff right here, friends!

Relationships - as always, you and the gang! But Part 1 of this particular story is just you and your bud Amy. The Daryl crush hadn’t formed yet, that starts to flicker in the story “Slowpoke,” so this part continues to follow “your” perception of him, as well as his season 1-2 character arc. And not to blaspheme, but this part actually mentions a crush that “you” have on (*gasp*) a different character

Genre - just some fluff and exposition, nothing too serious

Pronouns - reader is specified as being a woman in this one. But if you prefer to ignore it, go for it! This is reader-insert fanfiction, y’all, do what you want!

TWs - a few impolite words

“Hold up, they’re goin’ to Atlanta for supplies?”

“They’re going to Atlanta for supplies,” Amy confirms, visibly worried about it. Her big sister was going, too. She said that Andrea was trying to carve out her purpose in all this, and runs seemed to help give her purpose.

“But like, why not one of the smaller towns like we’ve done before?” you want to know. “The feds firebombed it! And, and everyone knows it was the big cities got ruined first, what with the sickness, then all the riots, the looting.”

“I guess, because the big cities were so packed, they were the first places people panicked and tried to leave so they wouldn’t catch sick,” she explains. “When Dale was rescued my sister and I, we saw the highway going out. It was completely jammed.” She gets teary and whispers “So many people trying to get out.”

You bite your lip.“I didn’t consider that part, that the cities were left emptier.”

Neither of you chose to voice that they were emptier now not only because it had been far easier to catch and spread the fever and turn into one of those things, meaning it was also easier to get bit or eat—um, sorry, not that word, you meant, um...to get bit and ‘attacked.’

You didn’t like acknowledging the other thing the sick people were doing.

Still, it seemed so risky. Sure the group could sneak and go quietly into the big city, but there were so many of them in there. The city must be horrific, especially when you consider the dead ones you'd encountered. Uh oh. You quickly try to think of anything else to get those images out of your head...

“I’m surprised you’re not going this time,” Amy comments.

“I was fixing to. Probably still would if it wasn’t to Atlanta,” you tell her. “I was wonderin’ why they wanted me to stay home for the next supply run.”

“The headaches?”

“Yeah, the migraines,” you subtly correct.

“How’s your head now? It’s gone, right?” she asked, referring to said migraine you’d gotten earlier.

“Oh yeah, I’m good, just feel really heavy.”

You got headaches on a fairly regular basis, and handled those fine. But you guessed that the barometric pressure or whatever must’ve been going wild (or you just had rotten luck; your triggers weren’t reliable), because in the past two weeks you’d also gotten five migraines – and those aren’t something that can be handled as easily. For you, a visual disturbance would start things off, followed by the pain and the rest of the fun stuff like light and sound sensitivity and nausea, then heavy exhaustion when it was over.

Luckily, your migraines weren’t always dramatic, but when they were, you obviously weren’t at your best.

And now your understood why Jacqui had talked with you yesterday and firmly suggested that you stay home for the next run, since it was going be further than usual. She just didn’t mention that “further than usual” meant Atlanta.

Amy fluttered her eyelashes at you and said “We’ll simply have to have fun together here, I guess.”

So you press a hand over your brow and pretend to whimper in your best uppity accent “How positively dreadful, whatever shall we do? And so close to your birthday!”

You were definitely disappointed about the run, though. Firstly because you’d been asked to stay, and that made you feel self-conscious and useless, secondly because you had to miss out on helping. You liked feeling useful and feeling like you belonged, and helping on supply runs made you feel useful and that you belonged.

You’d actually found it easier to deal with your depression since the fall of everything, because it had given you a clear purpose: protect your loved ones. But if you felt useless, like you weren’t doing enough to help them and protect them, then it was much easier for those dips in your mood to affect you much harder.

Also, you and Glenn had been competing with each other on runs for various things, usually about who was faster. You were finding that you really liked him.

“Don’t worry.” Amy grinned and rested her chin on her hands. “Glenn will still think you’re cool even if you miss this one.”

You purse your lips. “Amy.”

She tilts her head playfully at you. “You’re both friendly and goofy, and he’s cute, and we’re all like the same age, so what’s wrong?”

“Oh my gosh, not to deflect but thank you for saying I’m goofy.” You lean forward to share this detail about yesterday. “So during the last lesson, you know how we re-went over making a proper fist and all, right?”

Amy nods.

“Luis asked me if I’d ever broken a finger ‘when’ I’d punched someone. When, not if!”

You heave a sigh, then have to laugh a little. “I spent the rest of the day worryin’ if that’s the impression I give. I mean, kids are honest when it comes to stuff like that.”

“That’s not the worst impression to give out these days,” she mutters, almost to herself.

“Oh. So I do come across like that,” you accept quietly. You attempt a happy face. “You’re right, it – it could be worse.”

But to your relief, she now she looks confused and shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I meant. Luis most likely assumed that because you like teaching them self-defense. I never got that vibe from you.

“Good,” you answer in a really deep tone of voice, play-flexing your arms in the hopes of deflecting from how self-conscious Luis' comment made you feel about how you present yourself.

She snorts and insists “I’m being honest, I never got that impression from you, of all people. I was only saying that I myself wouldn’t mind giving out that sort of vibe sometimes.” There was something that didn’t sit well with you about the expression on her face right then.

You could feel your blood pressure starting to raise. “Did Carol’s husband or one of the Dixon brothers say somethin’ to you? Something inappropriate?”

“Merle says crude things to every person here. And as you’ve experienced, Ed just either leers or glares at us,” she said, referring to the women of the camp. Ugh, and yesterday night when you walked by his and Carol’s tent, he’d loudly referred to the homework assignment you given to build a stick cabin by asking “how deep did she reach into her ass to pull out that idea?”

“Are you tellin’ me the truth? Did they make you feel unsafe at all?” you press, while simultaneously trying to relax yourself so you wouldn’t seem so hot-headed.

“Cross my heart.” She was peering at you thoughtfully now. “Okay, I think I solved it: it’s that you’re protective, in a good way, especially of the kids.” A shrug and a smile. “Luis would feel comfortable asking you about ‘when’ you punched someone because he feels safe with you and is confident that you’d defend him from things that could hurt him. That’s a very high compliment.” Then she makes you feel even better by adding “And you know how honest kids are when it comes to stuff like that.”

By now you’re not sure if you can speak much because your voice might sound all wobbly. She did not need to go so hard with being so kind, yet she did because that was the type of person that she was. “Amy? I love you and you’re my best friend and I love you,” you repeat.

“I know, and I love you too,” she replies, mouth twisting into a half-smile. “And to think: we’ve known each other the exact same amount of time as you and you-know-who.”

“Ugh, but I don’t know him well enough yet for anything more than friendship,” you whine.

“That’s what dates are for, silly.”

“No way. I would only feel comfortable with that sort of thing if I knew the person very well.”

“And yet you said you’d ‘marry T-Dog in a heartbeat.’ Have you ever dated?”

“T-Dog is a very good man, one would be blind to not see it, he just ain’t in my age range. Anyways, I haven’t really dated, not really.” Crushes yes, but when you learned that someone had a crush on you? Fear and friend-zoning. It was something you were working on fixing in yourself. “It just works differently for me. I’m slow-to-open when it comes to romantic things.”

“What about Surinder, though?”

Your heart feels both light and heavy when you think about him. “We were good friends and liked each other. But we were both very slow, and wouldn’t pursue nothing further until we were very certain it could work.”

She groans “That’s both sweet and exasperating.”

“Oh hush,” you crack up. “It was nice to be on the same page. And he was handsome, and his sister was my best friend.”

“But then he decided to become a priest. The celibate kind.”

“Hey, he realized he might could’ve been called to be a priest, it’s different. It works different how they do it,” you laugh. It was good that you could laugh about it now. You knew that the seminary where he’d been studying had been razed back when things were at their peak. It was awful. Suri didn’t deserve to go out like that. “Anyways, as soon as I know someone I like like is taken, I stop pinin’ immediately. It’s a gift.”

She pouts. “Maybe for my birthday I’ll insist on dolling you up. I want to see how nervous Glenn gets.”

“Oo, what do you want to do for your birthday?” you ask excitedly. “Well, your pre-birthday?” Her actual birthday wasn’t for a few days.

“Well, I was thinking...”

You rub your hands together and smile in anticipation. All of you were determined to make her birthday nice, given the end-of-the-civilized-world situation you found yourselves in. Andrea has been looking around on runs for the perfect present for her, she was thinking jewelry. Carol had tucked away the best tasting MREs her husband had been hoarding. Miranda and Mr. Morales were keeping aside some pudding cups.

And you yourself had lucked out the other week; at this bait and tackle shop, you’d managed to find this children’s three-pack of walkie talkies that looked like cell phones! Amy really missed texting. Now, the walkies didn’t have the biggest range, but they were cute (and rainproof!), so she’d still get a kick out of them. Plus, she often did radio duty when she wasn’t on kid duty, so you were very pleased with your find.

Amy gazes out of your tent in the direction of the quarry with a twinkle in her eye. She finally bursts out “I wanna do the chicken swim across the quarry!”

Oh noo. You love to swim, but deep water and you didn’t mix well! Yeah, you made a point to push yourself to get over your fears (except for dating), but, but, but...swim the quarry?! You struggle to keep your face calm. You breathe.

It was her birthday and she deserved a happy, carefree, fun one. “Okay,” you agree. “Ch-chicken swim across the quarry.”

“It’s good that you’re nervous! I’m nervous too!” She claps her hands. “It’s gonna be so terrifying and fun that we’ll be shaking by the end of it!”

A nervous sound comes out of you unwillingly. “So other than braving the deep-water quarry monster and riskin’ certain death,” you start, Amy chuckling at your wording, “What else you wanna do?”

“Let’s paint nails after.” She looks wistfully up at the sky. “Then I could probably eat a whole tray of cupcakes by myself,” she wishes out loud. “Red velvet cupcakes and vanilla with rainbow sprinkles.”

You frown in solidarity, but smile on the inside to know that Mr. Morales and Miranda had those pudding cups saved for her. But you could totally find some sprinkles, too. “I might can convince Daryl to go on a run to a town nearby with me instead of a hunt. People can’t have pilfered all the snacks yet.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back. “Daryl is interesting, isn’t he?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Here I thought that you secretly had a crush on Glenn, too.”

“Well, Glenn is funny and cute,” she admits. “But I was only thinking – objectively – that Daryl is...interesting.”

You tilt your head as you consider. “You mean what went on with the last lesson?”

“Yeah! How could you not be intrigued?”

“Amy, just imagine how he’d treat a woman, though. How’d he’d treat his kids –”

“But that was the interesting thing: he treated the kids well, didn’t he? He walked over and started to help out.”

“For all we know, it’s because he wants to feel ‘em up.”

Amy makes a face and seems to weigh that option. “I don’t get that feeling from him at all. He almost seems like he’s not into anyone that way. You said he immediately looked away from my chest after the squall, no one else there had that reaction other than Dale, you said.”

“True.” It was why you decided he was safe to ask to teach you to hunt. There’d been a squall one of the first days here, Amy had on a white shirt and a thin bra, a mistake she’ll never make again. Both Dixons had been there, and Daryl’s gaze immediately turned away.

“Have you ever gotten the prey feeling when you’re around him? Perhaps, say, when you go out hunting with him alone?” she points out.

“I go with a big-ass knife and a taser, plus he knows Shane will murder him if any harm comes to me,” you declare, waving that off. “And...no. I’ve never gotten the prey feelin’ around him, you’re right.” You bite your lip. “And he didn’t get very close to the kids, just sorta briefly adjusted their positioning. Seemed uncomfortable even doin’ that.”

“And then he checked his pockets for quarters, and kept a tally of how many he owed the kids.”

“Amy has a crush on Daryl Dixon,” you monotone.

Now she’s the one pursing her lips. “I have a crush on Jordan back at grad school. I give the benefit of the doubt to Daryl.” She pauses. “But I can admit that his shoulders are nice and broad.”

“Mm, that’s true.” It was. They were nice and broad. Pretty eye-color, too. And there was something about his gait that was, dunno, pleasing.

“Besides, it’s not like I can dish to you about how cute I think Shane is, he’s your brother!”

“Ugh, and Shane knows he’s handsome, tell you what.” You stifle a groan. “He still shaves his chest.”

She can’t stop from giggling now. “Of course I’ve noticed that,” she teases. “My sister thinks he’s hot.”

“He does tend to wander around with his shirt barely buttoned,” you groan, not bothering to stifle this one.

“Pickings are slim, it’s either gonna be Shane, T-Dog, Jim,” she counts. “Or Daryl. Glenn’s too young for her.”

“How excellent that Glenn’s the perfect age for you, then,” you remind her.

“Or you,” she pointedly reminds you back.

“Why wouldn’t your sister go for Teddy, though, he’s like the best,” you wonder out loud. “And Jim was a family man.”

“Jim’s not in any place yet.” The poor man. Watched his wife and children get eat– um, get attacked by the sick people. You weren’t ready to use the actual verb for what happened to someone when the roamers caught them.

“All I’m saying,” Amy finishes, “Is that your brother is...objectively –”

“You and that word,” you joke, sticking your tongue out.

She sticks her tongue back at you. “Your brother is objectively the hottest man in the camp right now.”

You roll your eyes and lift your hands in pretend surrender. “I was kinda noticing that...I dunno, Shane seems to be holdin’ something for Lori.”

“Mm, I could see that,” Amy says.

“Yeah. Well, he’s known her for ages, known Carl since before he was born.” You exhale. “Then he sort of threw himself into keepin’ them and me safe after Rick, um, y-you know. After.” Now you shrug. “Recently, I’ve noticed that it might could’ve started to turn into something else.”

Whoa, what the– oh no. Something just bumped into your tent from the outside, and heavily.

You fumble around for the taser and immediately give it to Amy as you whip the out the knife you keep under your pillow.

No way one of them could’ve gotten into the camp. No way in hell.

Right?

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usermoreid · 3 years

Note

what would the unsub maeve story line be like? talk about it!

god im so happy you asked me this. it got so long so it's under a cut but im akfhdh i love unsub maeve arc

okay so she reaches out to spencer because she's been looking for a way to get to the team for a while now, and spencer posting to forums about his migraines was the perfect opportunity. she starts slow - introduces herself as a geneticist, asks to see the brain scans. spencer's so desperate for help he doesn't even ask for credentials, he just sends them to her. what's the worst that can happen, right??

she says she has some ideas, but she needs to talk to him; she needs to get a feel for what sort of lifestyle he's living so that she can figure out the best way to work with it. spencer's immediately overjoyed - someone has an idea of how to help him?? wonderful!! exactly what he needed!! so they start writing letters. she asks about any trauma he's been through in the past. he thinks it's to see if there could be any psychological or physical underlying issues. it's actually so that she can use it against him if need be.

talking about these things just feels so good to him - he's never been able to be so open with someone. but it's for medical purposes, he reasons, meaning that it's not like he's actually talking about it. and then they start talking on the phone. she suggests some vitamins - things she knows won't actually help him with his migraines but also won't hurt. during these phone calls, he pretty much starts using her as a therapist of sorts. and then he learns that she really is incredibly smart and wow she's so funny and oh my god she let's him ramble on and on to his heart's content and oh she's literally perfect.

his headaches become a little less severe. he pins it on the vitamins and the changes in diet and the exercises that she has him doing. he's not necessarily wrong, it is making him healthier. but it's actually due to the decrease in stress. he's not bottling up his emotions anymore. it took a little bit of time but he reaches a point where if he has a difficult case, he picks up the phone and calls maeve, whose credentials he still never asked for because why would he ask for proof when he's literally evidence of her capability himself??

this goes on for a while. spencer partially does actually develop feelings for her, but he mostly just starts associating the lack of pain with her, along with the relief that comes with it. he doesn't realise. she does. it's going exactly to plan.

she tells him about her stalker; says that he's the reason they can't meet; says that it's far too dangerous to get spencer's team involved because i don't want to hurt you and spencer believes it all. why wouldn't he?? he certainly has no reason to believe that they actually can't meet because her plan isn't ready yet, or that the team can't get involved because they'll see beyond the veil that spencer's insecurities have casted and immediately spot the red flags. no, she has no reason to lie to him, why would he ever doubt her?? he loves her, she helps him. and she loves him too, she said so herself. she wouldn't lie to him.

and then one day she gets kidnapped. there's a voice saying zugzwang and she can't answer the phone and oh my god he's going to have to tell the team. so he does. he musters up all the courage he doesn't have and stumbles marches his way into hotch's office, trying to project an air of confidence that's greatly diminished by the overwhelming anxiety coming off of him in waves and he tells his boss everything, from their first meeting to their last conversation.

hotch is skeptical, spencer can tell, but they go through with it anyway. they treat it like a regular case. they think it's the ex-fiance and oh god why didn't she say she was engaged and then they think it's the guy's new girlfriend and they've found where they are, they've figured it out let's go get her!!

and when he gets there he's told to blindfold himself and he does and then he's strapped to a chair and he needs to see her and he finally does and—

i told you we were going to make blindfolds fun again, he hears.

she's standing alone. two bodies in the back - bobby and diane. she had to kill them. bobby was going to expose who she really is and why she really had to disappear from her academic circles and maeve couldn't have people finding out that she was forced to leave after stalking someone to the point of almost getting a restraining order, not after she fought so hard to keep it quiet. and diane - ugh, diane - who stole her boyfriend and wore her clothes without even knowing they were hers. they both had to go.

he stares in shock. he doesn't understand. he came here to save her why is she free why is she stood in front of two dead bodies why is he strapped down to a chair what's happening??

she tells him. she tells him that the bau ruined her life. she tells him that they killed her parents - her real parents, the ones that weren't related to her by blood but through love, the ones who took her in when she was a child who ran away from home. they were serial killers, sure, but they loved her and she loved them. but then the bau came along and ruined their big finale. they didn't get the chance to blow up the people they were meant to, so they blew themselves up. suicide, it technically was. maeve calls it murder. the bau murdered them.

she takes spencer's gun from his hip and fires a shot into the wall, knowing that the team would come running. spencer can't tell them not to, they wouldn't hear him in time. they pile in, seeing maeve holding a detonator in one hand and the gun in the other and they realise, only moments after spencer, that she's rigged the place to blow.

she makes them all put their weapons down and throw them over, as she holds the gun to spencer's head. once the weapons have been dealt with, she throws the one she's holding over with the others and waves the detonator higher, making sure everyone can see it. she tells them that her cells have been dying ever since she returned to her birth parents, never having told them where she was for months and they didn't care enough to ask, because that was the moment she decided she was going to kill herself. she said it happened to her parents too - spontaneous cell death, she called it.

then derek lunges forward. it has such a small chance of working, but it's either this or they all blow up. either way, there's a strong chance they won't make it out. may as well give anything a shot.

he gets the detonator out of her hand by some miraculous luck but before anybody has time to celebrate, she grabs a gun out of the pile and points it to her own head whilst derek's is next to it. if the bullet gets shot, it would kill them both.

it doesn't get shot. spencer's gun does. the one he hides in his ankle holster. the one he grabbed as hotch untied him during the chaos. the one he never told her about because it was such a subconscious act that he never even thought to mention it. he's grateful that he didn't, but not until later. no, right then he doesn't feel anything as his bullet rips through the skull of the woman he loves. or as the gun clatters noisily yet silently to the floor. or as his knees give in and he falls down, staring at the blood pooling from the face he'd never seen in person. she was as beautiful as he had thought. the most beautiful girl in the world. and he had killed her.

#this got SO long #but jesus christ i love it so much i really love unsub maeve #finn answers #taiposting #tw suicide #unsub maeve

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solarmorrigan · 2 years

Note

For the Intimacy/Domesticity Prompts meme: 29 + a ship of your choosing <3

29. Forehead touching + Newmann

Thank you thank you for sending a prompt, you are a darling <3 and I hope it is okay that I was a predictable bastard in my choice of ship. (Also I know this probably isn't what they meant by "forehead touching" but this is what my brain gave me, so here we are)

Intimacy/Domesticity Prompt Meme

-/-/-

It wasn’t Hermann’s habit, really, so much as it was Newton’s.

It was Newton who reached out whenever Hermann wasn’t feeling well—a headache or a bad day for his hip or when he was just tired and worn down and stretched thin—and placed a hand on his forehead, always frowning pensively like he did over important work, like inaccurately checking Hermann’s temperature required every bit of his focus.

It was Newton who would declare when Hermann felt a little warm, or when he thought Hermann ought to get some rest, as though pressing one’s palm to someone’s forehead was a reliable diagnostic tool.

(It was Hermann who never pointed out how ridiculous the practice was, how little sense it made, because– well, he was hardly made from stone, and he likedNewton’s hands on him. They were strong and steady, rough with the calluses of hard work and dry from the regular use of chemicals and harsh soap, and always warm. Newton’s hands were so much warmer than Hermann ever felt, how could he even tell that Hermann’s temperature was supposedly elevated? Hermann never pointed this out, either.)

It was in Newton’s memory, a flash of soft blue that only fully occurred to Hermann when he had time much later to think over their Drift, that his father reached out and pushed young Newton’s messy bangs away to check for a fever, his hands as warm and rough has his son’s would become.

It was Newton’s habit, not Hermann’s.

Yet it felt natural to reach out when Hermann came home one evening to find Newton had beaten him there, had left his belongings strewn across the entryway (mess wasn’t uncharacteristic, but Newton had been almost fastidiously mindful about keeping the floor clean for Hermann since they’d begun cohabitating), and was lying in bed in their darkened room looking utterly miserable.

Really, it felt like there was nothing else to do but lift a hand and place it gently on Newton’s forehead.

(Hermann could not, it should be noted, tell whether or not Newton felt much warmer than usual.)

“Migraine?” Hermann asked softly.

Newton’s answering hum was vaguely affirmative.

Hermann stood there a moment longer, stroking at Newton’s hair with his thumb, uncertain of what it was about the action that seemed so comforting, and if he was doing it right, and if he should take his hand back now.

“Y’r hands’re cold,” Newton mumbled suddenly.

“Oh.” Hermann frowned, moving to retract his hand, but Newton’s own came up to cover it and keep him in place.

“Feels good,” he rasped. “Stay?”

Hermann was still dressed for work, right down to his shoes; he’d come home from his final lecture of the day and headed straight back to the bedroom to make sure Newton hadn’t expired or done something equally dramatic. He wasn’t particularly comfortable standing by the bed, leaning over Newton. He knew for sure that an ice pack from the freezer would do the man more good than Hermann’s poor circulation.

But somehow, instead of yielding to reason, Hermann found himself leaning his cane against the bedside table, attempting to find a comfortable position sitting on the edge of the mattress, and keeping his hand gently pressed to Newton’s forehead.

“I’ll stay,” Hermann said, for the unique pleasure of the twitch of the tiny, tired smile that Newton gave him in return.

A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

#newmann #pacific rim #hermann gottlieb #newt geiszler #hermannnewt #azure7539arts #answers from solar #solar wrote

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splendidly-secret-sick-fics · 3 years

Note

Ooo! What about Kuroo feeling really unwell during training camp while training with Bokuto, Akaashi, Tsukki, Hinata and Lev? He's probably felt bad for a while, but just suffered through. So when everything becomes too much, a panicking Hinata runs to get Kenma... and you can decide the rest.

Only if you're comfortable with writing it though! Have a nice day!

Leaders Don’t Cry: a Kuroo sickfic

Pairing: sick Kuroo, caretakers Kenma, Tsukki, Bokuto, Akaashi, kinda Hinata & Lev

Word Count: 4,266

Warnings: vomit, swearing, slight emetophobia, and sad Kuroo :(

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Thanks for the request friend :) I’ve only ever written Kuroo & Kenma as side characters, so this was kinda fun!!

I’m not super super happy with the overall product, but that’s alright. I do feel like maybe it’s not super cohesive? Idk. Let me know!! I look forward to improving my characterization of Kuroo and Kenma.

———————————————————-

Kuroo was a Leader. He was someone that others looked up to. Someone you could depend on.

Leaders were extroverts though, and Kuroo had to admit he did his best Recharging alone in his room or the quiet company of the Kenma. That’s an Introvert Thing, apparently. Even when he was young, too many people or too much social interaction drained him. Another Introvert Thing.

When he met Kenma and started playing volleyball, it seemed he naturally outgrew his Introvert Model, shedding his shy, intimidated outer-self. It was easily replaced with the Extrovert Model.

Now, Kuroo liked being surrounded by his team and his friends and he liked meeting new people. That’s an Extrovert Thing. So Kuroo was an Extrovert.

(“That makes you an Introverted Extrovert, Kuro,” Kenma told him one day. Kuroo didn’t understand how that could possibly be a thing.)

As an Extrovert, it was only natural that he became the captain of his volleyball team his third year. It was only natural that he was the Bridge between Karasuno and the Tokyo powerhouse schools.

(Kenma claimed, when the two of them were alone at least, that it was really his friendship with Chibi-Chan and their coaches that did that. Kuroo refused to concede this point.)

As the Leader and Bridge, it was again only natural that not only his team, but also other teams’ players were drawn to his wisdom and sparkling personality.

(“You forced yourself on them,” Kenma sighed.)

And that’s how he, Kuroo Tetsuro, Certified Extroverted Leader, came to be in Gym Three, long after their main practice ended with two of Karasuno’s first years, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Lev.

And that’s also how he ended up in the Worst Possible Situation.

It went down like this.

They were at another training camp with the Fukurodani Group and Regular Guests, Karasuno High. It was a short one, thrown together quickly because of the long weekend.

After much convincing (read: coercion) from him and Bokuto, Tsukishima Kei agreed to join them again for blocking practice. They pushed because Kuroo couldn’t stand to watch this kid’s talent waste away and Bokuto was personally offended that Tsukki still didn’t seem to enjoy volleyball.

It should have come as no surprise that Karasuno’s Hinata Shoyo joined in again, determined to redeem himself from his previous loss at the last camp.

And then because Haiba Lev decided that Chibi-chan and him were rivals, he joined in too.

(Akaashi claimed he had no choice but to join. It was either endless practice or endless Dejected Bokuto. Kuroo thinks he’s just masochistic.)

Their first night was awesome. He saw a fire ignited in Tsukki and got to smash Bokuto’s spikes back in his face. Plus, his ego was boosted because the three first years were all wowed by his skill.

Tonight, however, was not great. If he was honest with himself, things were bad from the second he woke up, and promptly wanted to curl back into his futon.

His head hurt and his body ached. The sounds of his team waking up and getting ready for the day set his nerves on edge the second he heard them. He felt overcrowded and overstimulated and he wasn’t even out of bed yet.

It had all the signs of a Recharge Alone Day, but it was the last full day of a training camp in which he was supposed to be a Leader. So, he pushed that all aside and got up to go lead.

As the day progressed, Kuroo gave more and more thought to Kenma’s “Introverted Extrovert” theory. He still loved his team and wanted to be around them. He did want to participate in the games and hang out with the other teams.

He also so so very badly wanted to sit in the dark for the next several hours.

Kuroo’s headache only grew more insistent as the day went on, likely due to the sounds of squeaking shoes, bouncing volleyballs, and the too warm summer heat. He got increasingly more fidgety and nervous all day and it made him uncomfortable in his own skin. That, added to the already ever-present soreness of his limbs only served to make him more miserable.

But he was the Captain, so he shoved those feelings down, ignored his headache, and tried to act as normal as possible. For the most part, his plan worked and no one bothered him about what might be wrong. Kenma was the only one that eyed him suspiciously every time his Extrovert facade slipped a little. At the end of the regular practice, his best friend approached him slowly.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quiet as usual.

“Kenma! What’s up, dude?” Kuroo forced, trying to maintain his usual Extrovert Mode.

“Cut the crap, Kuro,” Kenma sighed, blunt and exhausted as usual.

“Kenma, what are you—“

“Are you sick?”

The question caught Kuroo off guard. Was he sick? He thought it was just an Introvert Day that he had to push through. Maybe Kenma had a point though? It wasn’t like he normally felt this drained during a training camp. That usually came after the camp ended.

“No,” he eventually replied and waved his hand, “nah. Just tired. I think practicing with the guys at night took more of my energy than usual.” That must be it. He didn’t usually have to put out that much energy after practice. Lev, Hinata, and Bokuto were all True Extroverts, after all. Unlike Kuroo, who just molded himself into one. It made sense.

Kenma studied him with wide eyes before relenting and saying “Don’t push yourself, Kuro.”

“I won’t, don’t worry. I am a little tired though so maybe I’ll forgo evening prac—“

“Kuroo-san!” Hinata ran up to them, “are we practicing again today?? I want you to show me that cool wha-BAM block again!!” He jumped up and slammed his hands down, most likely trying to imitate exactly what he was trying to convey. All the loud explanation did was call attention back to his headache.

“Shoyo, Kuro was actually just saying that he was—“

“On my way to look for you Chib-chan!” Kuroo interrupted. Kenma narrowed his eyes at him, but Kuroo couldn’t deny the little red headed twerp.

“Let’s go grab something to eat and then we’ll round up the others.”

Hinata looked at him with those stupid starry eyes and nodded before running off to pester Tsukishima. Kuroo deflated some.

“Kuro. It’s okay to take breaks. I know you think that this is what you should be doing as Captain, but it’s alright to say no sometimes,” Kenma said.

“I know, Kenma,” Kuroo smiled gently, ignoring the uneasy feeling in his gut, “Thank you for looking out, but I’m fine! It’s only one more day. Tomorrow afternoon once everyone’s gone, I’ll just hang out in my room. You can come over if you want and play that new game I bought.”

Kenma studied him again before letting out a long-suffering exhale.

“Sure. Sounds good.”

After they ate, the six of them met up in Gym Three for another three on three. On the outside, things were going well. On the inside, Kuroo’s head was quickly descending into chaos.

He pretended that Bokuto, Lev and Hinata weren’t too loud. He pretended that he had enough energy to show them the same move seven times. He pretended he was enjoying this.

All the while, his headache slowly transitioned into a migraine, his limbs got heavier, and his dinner swirled in his stomach nauseatingly. It took maximum effort to stay awake, let alone play a three on three with three of the most energetic people he’d ever met before.

It all came to a head when his feet slammed down after blocking one of Bokuto’s cross shots. The power behind those normally made him stumble upon landing, but this time it sent a sharp pain shooting through his head and stars dance in his vision. He couldn’t regain his footing, and he stumbled onto his ass.

“Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asked when he didn’t get back up. He couldn’t get back up. The stars were still there and he couldn’t really find his feet.

“Y-yeah?” he stuttered.

“Hey, hey, hey, Kuroo, you alright my man?” Bokuto’s voice boomed and he winced before he could stop himself.

“Kuroo-san? What’s wrong?” Akaashi was kneeling beside him now. He could tell by the proximity of his voice.

“Just a a little...dizzy,” he forced a laugh, trying to play it off. He squeezed his eyes shut and brought a hand up to squeeze at his temples. What the hell was happening?

“Kuroo-san! Do you want some water?” Hinata’s voice rang and clanged in his head. He groaned.

“Kuroo-san, don’t die!!” Lev’s voice pounded. He grimaced.

“Would you idiots keep it down?” Tsukishima, beautiful, quiet Tsukishima commanded.

“Hey, Stupid we’re just trying to help!” Hinata screeched.

“And clearly he’s got a headache, you massive dolt. Keep your volume down,” Tsukki snapped back. Kuroo would thank him if the room would stop spinning.

Suddenly, a hand was on his forehead.

“You’ve got a fever,” Akaashi stated.

Oh. Well, Kenma was right after all. He was sick. The confirmation snapped something into place and all of his emotions, his control, whooshed out of him in one fell swoop. All the symptoms he ignored all day came to the very front of his mind and all he could think about was how miserable he felt.

“Oh,” he choked around the abrupt knot in his throat. He blinked his eyes open and turned to look at Akaashi. The setter was serious as ever, but there was a small frown on his lips and tiny furrow to his brows.

“Bokuto-san, can you bring me your warm up jacket?”

Bokuto nodded and quickly, but thankfully quietly, brought their jackets over and Akaashi draped it around Kuroo’s shoulders.

“Kuroo-san, do you want to lie down?” he soothed.

“Akaashi, I don’t feel good,” he muttered. There was a burning in his eyes and a quiver to his lips that he really wished would go away.

“I know. We’ll get you to your room, but first, I need you to get yourself together some.”

“I don’t...I don’t feel good,” he said, an all too evident shake in his voice. This is not what Leaders do. But he felt so terrible, there was nothing he could do to prevent this sudden onslaught of emotions. Before he knew it, warm tears rolled down his flushed cheeks.

“Kuroo-san!” Hinata screeched. Tsukishima smacked him upside the head. He glared and rubbed the back of his head.

“Kuroo-san,” he tried again, quieter this time, “don’t cry, please. It’s okay!”

Kuroo couldn’t help it. He appreciated Hinata’s attempts at comfort, but he was so drained and he was so sick and he couldn’t help it.

“Kuroo, what can we do to help, man?” Bokuto asked gently, much to his and Akaashi’s (flustered and very evident) surprise. He sat down by Kuroo and rubbed a hand soothingly up and down his back. It helped for a second, but then it just made his skin crawl and his stomach turn.

“I I don’t...I don’t know,” he whimpered pitifully, “I don’t feel good.” He exhaled and dropped his chin to his chest. The downward spiral of both his physical and mental condition brought him further and further into his own self-incurred misery. He needed someone else to be the leader. Anyone.

“Ahhhh, Kuroo-san.” Hinata flailed.

“What about Kenma?” Lev whisper-yelled. Hinata’s spine straightened sharply.

“Good idea, Lev! I know where he is. I’ll go get him!” Hinata proclaimed and ran out.

“Kuroo, what doesn’t feel good?” Bokuto asked.

Kuroo inhaled shakily.

“Head.. my head hurts. And I’m sore and uh and my st-stomach,” he responded through panting breaths.

“There’s a stomach bug that just hit a couple of the player’s on Shinzen’s team,” Tsukishima supplied helpfully.

“Sounds like you might’ve picked that up, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi clicked his tongue.

This was news to him. It must’ve just happened because usually the captains kept each other up to date on those kinds of things as soon as they could. If that was true, that would explain why it came on so quickly. He was fine yesterday. Even just a few hours ago, he was nothing but a little groggy. Now it felt like he got hit by a bus.

If it was a stomach bug, that meant….

“No, no,” he panicked, “no I don’t want that.” He wrapped his hands around his swirling stomach.

“Kuroo, calm down. It’s alright. You’re gonna make it worse,” Bokuto said. Kuroo shook his aching head.

“No I hate throwing up, Bo,” he whimpered and dropped his head to look at his shaking hands.

“Oh…” Akaashi breathed, “do you feel like you might?”

“I don’t know,” he said again. Because he didn’t want to. He absolutely did not want to puke. Not in front of these first years. That might ruin all of his credibility as an upperclassmen, let alone the Captain of a powerhouse school.

Geez, what a pitiful and pathetic display he was putting on. He was supposed to be someone these kids looked up to, and now they were helping him.

“Here,” Tsukishima said, handing Akaashi and Bokuto a bucket from the supply room. Kuroo eyed it distastefully.

“It’s just in case, Kuroo-san!” Lev tried. But the more Kuroo got worked up in spite of himself, the more he realized that wasn’t true. His current emotional state wreaked havoc on his head, which in turn twisted his gut.

Several minutes passed and Kuroo took the time to collect himself so that he could get it together enough to go to his room. At least there he could be miserable and pathetic alone.

While he was able to get himself to stop crying, the come down from the sudden rush of emotions only made his other symptoms that much more prevalent.

Kuroo groaned miserably, “where’s Kenma?”

“Hinata-kun has gone to get him. He’ll be back soon hopefully.”

“Akaashi, I don’t feel good,” he whined and curled tighter in on himself.

“I know,” Akaashi said.

“Feels… bad…” he swallowed thickly.

“Kuroo…” Tsukishima warned. He shook his head.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled. Something heaved in his stomach and he pulled his shoulders up to his ears and brought the back of his hand to his mouth.

“Y’guys should go,” he said around the pool of saliva in his mouth and the heaviness of his jaw. Who he was talking to at this point, he wasn’t sure. He just knew that being around him right now was only asking to catch this. He also knew he was about to puke and he really wanted to try and maintain some of his dignity.

“Too late for that, numbskull. We’ve been around you for days. If we’re gonna catch it, we’re gonna catch it. Might as well make sure you don’t die,” Tsukishima said. Kuroo, behind his mounting nausea and hazy brain, was touched by his salty kouhai’s attempt at comfort.

“I think he meant he doesn’t want you to see him spew, Tsukkidude,” Bokuto murmured. His hand was still on Kuroo’s back and while it was more comforting than bothersome now, it also served to swirl things around in his stomach and brain. He nodded lethargically.

“Kuroo-san, if you could, uh— please, just, um...wait...for Kenma-san, I think it would make you feel, uh, better. To have him here, that is. Instead of...uh...me,” Akaashi stammered. Kuroo heard the nervousness in his voice and felt bad. There wasn’t much he could do to stave off the inevitable though.

“You squeamish, ‘Kaashi?” Bokuto asked.

“Uhhhh,” Akaashi hesitated, high pitched, “maybe a little.”

“Bo,” Kuroo panted, punctuated by a sick hiccup.

“I gotcha, buddy. Bucket’s right here,” Bokuto reassured and placed the bucket in his lap. “You can leave guys, I got this.” He said to the other three.

“Yeah...I’m gonna take you up on that,” Lev said uneasily. “Sorry Kuroo-san.” He bowed and then sprinted out of the gym. Tsukishima looked more hesitant, but ultimately bowed and left as well.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto said right as Kuroo spit into the bucket. The sounds of their conversation faded in and out with the rest of Kuroo’s surroundings. All he could fully register was the lump of something nasty moving up his chest. All he could see was the blinding red color of the bucket.

A few airy burps that grated his throat passed through his parted lips. He whimpered.

“It’s alright, Kuroo,” Bokuto’s voice filtered through the haze. He gagged.

It hurt. It hurt so badly. Each heave, gag and hiccup that plagued him for the next several moments.

Where was Kenma?

Kuroo coughed, hiccupped, and a small stream of vomit trailed out of his mouth. It wasn’t enough. It still hurt. He wheezed.

“Hey, Kuroo-san, try to take deep breaths,” Akaashi’s shaky voice commanded.

“Can’t,” he gasped, coughing up more bile.

Fuck he wanted this to be over.

Cough, gasp, puke. The painful, horrific cycle repeated for several tense minutes. It didn’t relieve any of his discomfort.

Bokuto patted his back and tried to offer comforting words. Akaashi wouldn’t look at Kuroo, but he was there, another steady presence to offer some grounding to Kuroo.

“Kuroo- san! I found Kenma!” Hinata’s voice cut through his misery. “He was in the shower. I’m sorry it took so long!”

“Kuro,” Kenma said, voice calm, blunt, comforting. He took Akaashi’s place at his side, his Snorlax slippers and ratty sweatpants taking up Kuroo’s peripheral.

“I don’ feel good,” Kuroo told him around the bile coating his mouth. Kenma put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“I gathered that,” he said with amusement, “it’s okay. Just relax.”

Kuroo shook his head. Relaxing meant letting this happen. He did not want it to happen.

“Tetsu, don’t be an ass,” Kenma sighed, exasperated.

“Kenma,” he whimpered. The hand on his shoulder squeezed again.

“How long has he been like this?” Kenma directed at someone else in the room.

“About 15 minutes,” Akaashi’s shaky voice answered.

“Shit, Tetsuro, why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Kenma asked. Kuroo shook his head slowly.

“Didn’ re’lize,” he slurred. His stomach cramped and his inhaled sharply through his teeth and gripped tightly at his shirt. As soon as the cramp passed, he gagged, his body jolting forward.

“Uh, I’m gonna—I’m gonna go,” Hinata stuttered out and then Kuroo heard his tiny feet run from the gym.

“Can you two go get Nobuyuki and Yaku from the Nekoma quarters? I’m sure Lev is looking for them, but he’s an idiot,” Kenma demanded of Akaashi and Bokuto, the inflection behind his voice commanding and unwavering. It comforted Kuroo in ways he didn’t understand.

Despite how it appeared to onlookers, Kenma was alway the one taking care of Kuroo. More than Kuroo took care of him, anyway. The setter always knew exactly what Kuroo needed before he even said anything. He was passive most of the time, content to let things be, but stubborn and steadfast when he needed to be. Which was something that Kuroo was grateful for, too prone to letting his emotions take over. Kenma was a sturdy support for Kuroo when he was at his weakest.

“They’re gone, Testsu. Relax and let it happen. It’s just you and me,” Kenma told him. He put his forehead on the top of Kuroo’s matted, sweaty hair. The parts of Kenma’s hair that touched Kuroo were wet and cold. It felt nice.

The uncharacteristic gentle action from Kenma made something in Kuroo’s chest twinge and he whimpered, fresh tears dropping into the bucket.

Kuroo could be himself with Kenma. He didn’t need to be the Captain or a Leader or an Extrovert or even an Introverted Extrovert. He could just be Kuroo.

“Just us, Tetsu,” Kenma said and pulled his head back.

Kuroo inhaled slowly, deeply and exhaled, trying to relax his shoulders and back. It didn’t take much more for his stomach to finally find relief.

A gurgling hiccup brought up a small stream of bile and he coughed. Another hiccup brought a little more. Then finally, he belched, wet and heady, and heaved, a much stronger torrent of disgusting vomit moving up his chest and out of his mouth.

“There ya go,” Kenma sighed. He moved Kuroo’s unruly hair, made more disgusting by the sheen of sweat covering his forehead, back and away from his face. Kuroo lurched forward with a gag, bringing up more of his dinner.

“Holy shit, Kuro, that’s some fever. I’m sorry you’ve felt so bad all day,” Kenma whispered. Kuroo shook his head, spitting out the nasty taste in his mouth, trying to find his breath before the next round.

He didn’t get much of a chance before he heaved again.

“God,” he slurred between wretches.

“It’s alright. Calm down,” Kenma instructed.

He puked twice more before his stomach settled for the time being.

“Kenma...please…” he whispered, gesturing for him to move the bucket away.

“Here,” Kenma handed him a water, “drink this first. Rinse out your mouth.” Kuroo did as he was told and spit into the bucket. Kenma took it away after that and Kuroo thanked him quietly. He inhaled, bringing his head up and looking at Kenma for the first time since the setter got there.

Kenma’s eyebrows were furrowed ever so slightly, a subtle pout on his lips. He brushed Kuroo’s bangs back again.

“Thanks, Kenma,” he smiled weakly. Kenma clicked his tongue.

“You’re an idiot,” he sighed. It lacked any of its usual blunt edge.

“Kuroo!!” Kai called out, running into the gym. They were both wearing medical masks, a couple more in their hands.

“Hey,” he said sheepishly, a hand on the back of his neck.

“I knew something was wrong. You really are such a dumbass,” Yaku said, a hand on his hip and an eyebrow raised. He was as blunt as usual.

“Thanks, Yaku. You’re as gentle as ever.”

“Yeah, well. Can’t help it when you decide to push yourself to this point,” he said, turning his face away. “Idiot,” he added as an afterthought. Kuroo couldn’t see his cheeks behind his mask, but his ears were red.

“You alright Kenma? Here,” Kai asked and handed Kenma a mask. Kenma shook his head.

“Too late for that,” he sighed.

“Yeah, but several of Shinzen and Fukurodani’s players have gone down with the same thing as our fearless leader here. We’re trying to contain it so it doesn’t spread more,” Kai explained.

“Yeah. Exactly. You wear one too, Kuroo,” Yaku insisted. Kuroo didn’t like the idea of having his mouth covered, but he also didn’t like the idea of spreading this wretched fate to others.

Kenma and Kuroo took the masks and then Yaku pulled some meds out of the bag on his shoulder and handed them to him. Kuroo’s lip curled, but Kenma pinched his elbow and he relented. They hit his stomach with a hollow thud.

Kai held a hand out to help Kuroo up. As soon as he stood, his knees buckled and black spots danced in his vision. Kai quickly caught him around his waist and threw Kuroo’s arm around his shoulder.

“Try not to pass out until we get back to the quarantine room. It’d make things difficult,” Yaku said. Kuroo would’ve rolled his eyes if he had the energy.

Together, they made it back to the classrooms (repurposed as sleeping quarters for the camp). There was a room for people who already puked and one for anyone experiencing symptoms. Kuroo was shocked to find Akaashi there, leaning over a trash can, Bokuto rubbing his back, as well as several Shinzen players, a couple Ubugawa players, and the setter from Karasuno.

Hinata was there as well, sitting beside Kageyama with his arms crossed and a disgruntled look on his face.

Yaku set up a new futon for Kuroo and Kai helped him settle into it. He immediately curled up on his side, exhaling in relief.

They asked if he needed anything, promised to bring him a change of clothes, and left. Kenma saw them out but then came back and plopped himself down beside Kuroo.

“You can go, Kenma,” he said, looking up at him with one eye open. Kenma shrugged.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” he said plainly. Like it wasn’t embarrassing at all. Kuroo smiled to himself.

“What’s with Chibi-Chan?” He asked in lieu of a response. Kenma snickered.

“His team sent him here when Kageyama came down with the bug. Apparently their “secret relationship” isn’t so secret.”

Kuroo chuckled. That was probably why Akaashi and Bokuto were both here as well.

“You know,” Kenma said.

“Hmm,” Kuroo replied sleepily.

“No one thinks you’re less of a Leader just because you’re sick. It happens to everyone. Doesn’t mean you’re not still someone other people look up to,” Kenma said quietly, matter-of-fact.

“Mmm.. you’re right,” he muttered back. He was. Kuroo knew that. He appreciated the reminder though.

“Go to sleep, Tetsu,” Kenma said and stretched his legs out beside Kuroo. He ran his fingers through Kuroo’s hair. Sleep called to him and his eyes slowly closed.

He woke up several times before the next morning, because of other people puking, because he needed to puke and once when Kenma puked, swearing Kuroo out for getting him sick.

He apologized profusely and pulled Kenma’s hair back with the hair tie he kept on his wrist.

Kuroo was a Leader. Someone other people liked and looked up to.

Sometimes Leaders needed someone to lean on too, he supposed. Thank goodness he had Kenma.

#haikyuu sickfic #my fics #sick kuroo #caretaker kenma #caretaker Akaashi #caretaker Bokuto #caretaker Tsukishima #caretaker Hinata #caretaker Lev #kinda sorta #they tried okay?#tw vomit #haikyuu #kuroo tetsurō #kenma kozume #emeto warning #emeto #fever

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garnetmantle · 3 years

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Title: After Omega, Star Trek TOS

by: green rose

@sicktember

Prompt #4 Headache

Notes: The TOS episode "Omega Glory" is literally one long recipe for a headache for Kirk. Spock was caught in the nimbus of a phaser set to kill in this episode.

Numbly, Jim tried to orient himself among the crush and chaos that was the excited Yangs. Spock. He was trying to keep an eye on Spock, who had admitted to being weak, which probably meant he was barely keeping his feet under him through some feat of Vulcan endurance. Jim’s vision was swimming a bit in the torch-flashing darkness, and he was so damn tired, but he eventually homed in on the red-shirted security guards, and found McCoy, very unhappy, at Spock’s side.

The doctor was not supporting Spock, but he clearly wanted to be. Spock stood at-ease, clearly rebuffing any such attempt. So McCoy was scanning the crowd, and when his eyes hit Jim he lunged forward and grabbed his arm, dragging him forward to stand the appropriate distance from Spock for a beam up. The sudden jerk brought the taste of bile up behind Jim’s teeth. Bones was glaring hard enough that it made Jim a little more dizzy to try to meet his eyes, so he stopped trying to and looked at Spock. Whose at-ease was wavering in its own wind.

“I suppose we can beam up now?” McCoy demanded.

Unperturbed, Spock spoke into his communicator in a steady but very quiet voice, “Three to beam up, Mr. Scott.”

Jim was moving the second the transporter let go, and caught Spock, who went at the knees the moment the transporter beam released him. Kirk had him before his body could hit the ground -- he’d known the usually-inconsequential disorientation of the transporter was going to get Spock, he’d just been able to tell. McCoy was swearing, and his scanner was humming.

So Jim had him under the elbows, crushed against his side, and he only had a moment to dislike how limp Spock had gone before the awful realization hit him that his own balance and coordination was not sufficient to maintain the two of them until the waiting medical team swimming into focus in the too-bright lights of the room could climb on the platform.

Kirk clenched his teeth and swallowed. He had been up for two straight days and nights, but he was not going to drop Spock, and he was not going to throw up in the middle of the transporter room. He was trying to get the nausea forced back enough to tell the corpsmen to hurry up and get Spock when McCoy took Spock’s other side and more than half his weight, and gestured his subordinates forward.

They relieved Jim of the Vulcan’s weight, which he needed, and of the contact, which left a gnawing worry behind it, and put Spock on the anti-grav stretcher they had waiting. One of them handed McCoy a small med-kit which he instantly opened. He read off the hypos, and administered them directly to his patient.

Clearly McCoy had called ahead. Why had Spock waited that long for him to beam up?

It was a little worrying that Spock had let himself be handled by strange corpsmen -- these were new crew, on board less than a month -- and put on the stretcher without complaint, silent and pale and submitting to McCoy’s attentions with none of their usual argument. Jim blew out a slow breath and closed his eyes, then breathed in a deep one as he raised his head and eventually reopened them. Reset. He trusted Bones, and Bones had said authoritatively that Spock would live. There was a lot left to do with—

“Doctor,” Spock had rallied enough to come up on his elbows and look at Kirk, his gaze assessing. He interrupted the doctor in a quiet but very firm voice. Definitely coherent. “You are aware that the Captain has had several trauma-induced periods of unconsciousness during this mission, but you are unaware of the most severe. To my certain knowledge, he has been unconscious due to two severe traumatic blows for a cumulative nine hours and eighteen minutes since our beam down.”

Spock wasn’t announcing it to the room, just to McCoy, but it was bad enough because Bones stopped dead and raised his head. “Captain, you are required in Sickbay in twenty minutes.”

A biting reply wanted to come out – he was too tired to be bossed about by his CMO exercising his prerogatives – but Jim made himself stop. The truth was, his head was a pulsing raw pain he’d been able to manage only by lifting above it – literally dissociating from his own body a bit to cope. He had blood coming out of one ear, his vision was getting worse, and as his adrenaline dropped he was starting to get his own crosswind himself. He was stubborn, and he had a thousand things to do, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Yes, Doctor.”

McCoy, following the stretcher out, stopped to double-blink at him, then looked him over again. “Do you need transport?”

“No, Doctor.” The guards and Scotty and the transporter chief were all listening to them, now, so Jim walked to the door. Oh, yeah. He was getting his own wind and McCoy noticed, of course, caught Jim’s arm to balance the wavering, and started to demand Kirk come with him right then.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, on one condition,” Jim said quietly as he followed McCoy out into the hall. “I know you have some kind of anti-emetic in there, you always do when you’re treating Spock for anything serious. Give me.”

“Yeah?” McCoy asked, trying to catch his eyes, no doubt to evaluate his pupils, but Kirk wasn’t having it. Not quite yet. The doctor's voice was on the gentle side, though, which was immediately soothing, and he opened his med-kit. ”Migraine?”

Jim wished he could say yes, but it wasn’t a good day for blatant lies. “No. Spock’s right. I got my bell rung twice, hard-“

“As opposed to the half-dozen times it was lightly rung?” the doctor asked sharply. “I’m not blind, you know-“

Speaking slowly, Jim continued, “But I’ll be all right for a few more minutes, and then you can do whatever you want.”

“You’re just afraid you’ll get sick all over the Bridge? I’d bet on the turbolift, that upward and lateral motion at once—“

Kirk felt sweat on his upper lip, and he swallowed, hard. McCoy looked a bit abashed and gave him the shot in the arm, and within a few seconds Jim’s stomach had returned to the normal position. He coughed a little and swallowed, then tried out a smile. “You’d be amazed how much that helps. I –“

“Will be in Sickbay in twenty minutes, Captain,” McCoy growled, snapped his med-kit closed and took off after his patient. Instinct urged Kirk to go after them, but duty sent him in the other direction.

It was like water dripping away. Onto him. Away from him. A little more impairment. A little less adrenaline. Jim Kirk put one foot in front of the other, and he smiled when he needed to, and he was able to think well enough to handle what had to be handled and know when something had to be put off for a more coherent day. The lights got brighter, though. Drip. And blurrier. Drip. And god it hurt to focus his eyes. Drip. He prepared a bare bones report for the Admiralty, because that couldn’t wait, and every sound got louder. Drip, drip. The world got foggier, and his energy to navigate through it was lessened.

He finally turned, then waited as the Bridge kept turning for a moment before settling down before his eyes. “Mr. Sulu. You have the conn,” he said, and headed for the turbolift. His crosswind was getting more stormfront than gentle breeze – he knew he was swaying on his feet, didn’t that count for something? “If I’m needed you can reach me in Sickbay. Mr. Spock is also in Sickbay. Unless he is needed to keep the galaxy or the ship from blowing up, please forget you can reach him there.”

“Aye, Captain,” came from several people, but then quietly, from Uhura alone, “Could one of us escort you to Sickbay, sir?”

Kirk forced himself to stop swaying, forced a smile to his lips. “No, but thank you, Lieutenant.”

The drop of the turbolift had him laying back against the wall, and his hands over his eyes were trying to push the pain back away. Water dripping everywhere, he was in a rainstorm and it was washing away the world and his energy and his ability to control himself. His head had reached the white-out level, the pain hitting places his consciousness wasn't willing to go with it. One last thing, though.

He walked into Sickbay to see Dr. M’Benga arguing with Dr. McCoy, gentle to his irritation. “You’ve been up for two days, Leonard. Either go to your quarters or go sleep in your office, but you are not fit for regular duty right now.” They’d both worked under worse conditions for crisis duty.

“Just give me a few more minutes, Geoff. I’m not being stubborn. I want a shower and my bed, but—there he is!” He turned from his fellow doctor to glare at Kirk.

“Twenty minutes does not mean forty-five, Captain, sir.”

Kirk made one of his ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’ dismissive gestures and closed his eyes in a brief headshake. “How is Spock?”

McCoy frowned at him as he moved toward him with a scanner in one hand and a tricorder in the other. “In a healing trance. He’ll be fine in a few days, Jim. We were able to treat the radiation poisoning and the rest he can handle himself.”

Jim’s head went down with a huff of a sigh, but he batted at McCoy’s arm when the doctor raised it with the scanner, and McCoy started to growl at him, but Jim made his little dismissive-gesture-closed-eyes-headshake thing he did again. He spoke very evenly. “No. Bones. I think I... could use that… transport now.”

He didn’t go at the knees, he just dropped, and it was all McCoy and a lunging M’Benga could do to keep his limp body from bouncing off the floor.

He got a bed beside Spock's for three days. McCoy's blood pressure was not very appreciative of their stay.

End

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headlessandhellbent · 2 years

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Here's a WILD chronic pain update y'all 🙃

so I FINALLY had my referral to a migraine/pain management neurologist. Got the referral when my regular neurologist gave me, like, 5 different meds in two weeks to try and stop and amazingly amazing undescribable 2+ week pain flair up.

So I go and tell him all my issues (head pain, tmj, lower neck and upper back stiffness) and he tells me to take off my mask and goes, "WOAH, you R E A L L Y do have tmj" literally by me just removing my mask. He then proceeds to tell me that my tmj is EXTREMELY bad and that my face is SO round right now because of it... And that tmj has distorted the contours of my face from being SO bad for SO long that I no longer have the original face anatomy I was born with due to my jaw muscles being so swollen for so long protecting my tmj. That if I looked at a picture of my face today and even a year ago I'd be a completely different person, and I look completely different now face wise than I did 5 or even 10 years back.

So then I get off the table and sit back in my chair and he wheels himself over and tells me VERY solomly that he doesn't think I even have migraines. Or headaches. That I told him I'm not light or sound sensitive and therefore I LITERALLY do not check any of the big migraine boxes. I then told HIM that my other neurologist at home said the same thing but then just started heavily medicating me for migraines anyway. He then told me he only thinks I have TERRIBLE tmj and that's it. Or, terrible tmj that needs treatment ASAP and then anything left over will be minor enough to deal with then.

So he's recommending I get Botox in both my jaw joints with him. And I told him I already got jaw shots for my tmj for two years and it did nothing so I decided to stop and he was like I know what that other doctor was injecting but you NEED BOTOX NOT THAT. What you were getting was the wrong injection.

He then said once I start Botox injections in my jaw that that two things will happen. 1) I will get COMPLETE relief with my jaw and that will eliminate all pain and swelling and I will event have a jaw bone visible again. Or 2) it will help somewhat and if it doesn't help completely then that means I have jaw arthritis from my tmj being untreated for so long and that just means we'll treat it another way... But either result means I'd be head pain free because it's my muscles connected to my jaw causing me pain in different locations ONLY across my face and head.

I'm also getting reevaluated on my epilepsy that no one thinks I have but got prescribed meds for at this new location with a sleep deprived eeg. And if I don't have it I'll be removed from my twice daily epilepsy meds.

So now I wait for insurance approval of both the Botox and the eeg.

I'm literally screaming. No migraines. No migraine meds. Probably no epilepsy and epilepsy meds. I know my city is kinda small but wtf the quality of care between my city and the bigger city an hour away is night and day.

I've been complaining if tmj for YEARS. CRYING FOR YEARS IN PAIN and no doctor cared or even tried to help my tmj. It took literal YEARS for me to get a referral to a headache clinic and now I'm told my jaw can be permanently damaged for waiting so long for treatment.

Life fucking sucks sometimes. But better late than never.

#chronic pain #tmj #migraine #headache #migraine headache #botox injections #Botox #chronic headache #chronic migraines #pain

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greenroseunderglass · 3 years

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After Omega : Fanfic - Star Trek TOS (Gen)

@sicktember

Prompt #4 Headache

by: greenroseunderglass (1st post to tumblr, I know I'm messing up every way possible.)