Migraines
This is an Inanimate Insanity fanfic one-shot. This was not a request, I just had an idea to do a fic like this late at night and couldn't stop thinking about it. The fic is based on the migraines my mom has and my younger brother ("brother a") sometimes has. I also sometimes get headaches, so I am self-projecting onto Paintbrush (just a little bit, tho).
Warnings: Migraines and headaches (that's literally what the fic is based around), pain, nausea, hiding pain, time blindness, art block, misgendering (by accident), panic attacks (mentioned), anxiety, medication, guilt (but it isn't put into the character by another character. The character with guilt just feels guilty), Lightbrush (Lightbulb x Paintbrush), Painbrush (Paintbrush experiencing pain/Paintbrush angst)
Paintbrush woke up, opened their eyes, and stood up. Their vision tunneled, and they could barely stand without wobbling. There was also a tight pain around their head, like a tight wrap around it. Their vision went back to normal, and the tight pain faded after a moment. This experience was normal for them. It typically happened when they stood up. Well, at least this time, it wasn't a migraine because that would be bad.
...
They didn't know how much time had passed since they had that headache at the beginning of the day (because they were time blind), but their head was hurting again. And they felt nauseous. What was worse was that they were hosting an art class.
Great, just great, I'm having a freaking migraine! At the perfect time! They thought sarcastically.
The thing about Paintbrush is that when they got a migraine they would typically also get really bad art block, they hate this fact because they like to paint and draw a lot, and their migraines came at random and were frequent.
"Wow, Paintbrush, your canvas sure is blank! And you're not talking. Shouldn't you be demonstrating what we're supposed to do?" Suitcase asked.
"Oh, right, sorry! I just got a bit distracted."
"By what?" Testube asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Thoughts," Paintbrush said, deadpan.
"Oh, okay then! So what are we doing, Mrs. Pa- sorry, Mx. Paintbrush?"
Paintbrush expected to be accidentally misgendered and didn't mind it. They had just recently come out, after all.
The pain in their head got worse and worse. That's when they noticed that they forgot to get the other painting supplies. "First, I have to go grab some stuff! I'll be right back." They said, grabbing their medicine and walking to the storage room.
They took some pills before the paint fumes made everything worse. They grabbed some thick tubes of acrylic paint. They also grabbed some paintbrushes (both big and small), painting sponges, paper plates (they used the plates as paint pallets so that they didn't have to wash any paint pallets), and a bottle of modpog (which is used to make sure that paintings and paint coats don't get damaged). They walked out of the room and set everything down on their desk.
They gave everyone a paper plate, a few different-sized paintbrushes, and a couple of panting sponges.
"Alright, class! Today we're going to do some abstract art. Get the paint that you'll need and just paint different colored shapes, don't think about or plan it. It's like improv in acting except for painting, drawing..." Paintbrush paused, realizing how long they had been speaking, "you get my point, right?"
"Yeah, I think we all got it, Painty! You're pretty good at explaining anyway!" Lightbulb said in her cheerful tone, which she usually had at least a hint of.
Everyone got their paints and started to paint. Paintbrush supervised everyone, making sure that everyone was okay. One hand foot rose into the air, shakily, and fell back down after two seconds. Paintbrush immediately knew who it was. Paintbrush approached a fidgety Suitcase.
"Do you need anything?" Paintbrush asked softly, they knew what the answer was but wanted Suitcase to get in the habit of saying what her problems were.
"I um, have to leave. I didn't take my anxiety meds and well..."
"Yes, I'm fine. Go take your medicine. I don't need you to have another panic attack here, especially only after a few days from the last one." They said with a slight chuckle that they immediately regretted.
"You can go." They said. The pain in their head made them slightly wince.
"A-are you okay?"
Suitcase didn't seem to mind though, since a small laugh came from her. She hopped down and walked out of the classroom.
...
Paintbrush looked at the finished and signed pieces. They were all amazing, despite what some of the artists thought of their own work.
"Great job everyone! It looks like you all have the hang of it! You may go now." They dismissed the class, hoping no one would stay so that they could dim the way too bright, fluorescent lights that only worsened the pain in their head, and put their head on their desk.
But, of course, someone stayed. Oddly enough, that someone was Suitcase.
"Hey, um Paintbrush?" Her voice was soft and quiet like she knew how much pain they were in, "um. Are you actually okay?"
Paintbrush nodded, "I'm fine, Suitcase! Really! Just a little tired." They said, trying not to cry from the pain in their head.
Please leave already.
"Oh, um, okay, then. That's all. I'll go now." She said.
Paintbrush sighed as soon as she left, cleaned up the materials, and grabbed the pieces to hang them up. They felt lightheaded, oh no, not this again.
They lay on the ground, squeezing their eyes shut, until they didn't feel lightheaded anymore. They got up and quickly hung up the pieces, then dimmed the lights. The pain continued and a few tears slipped from Paintbrush's eyes. They sat on the ground, pulled their knees up to their chest, buried their head in their knees, and softly cried. They didn't care if someone came in, at this point they couldn't control it, and they couldn't stop crying, even if they wanted to.
...
They got up and went to their room, their eyes were bloodshot and they were exhausted, they opened the door to their and Lightbulb's room (Lightbulb and Paintbrush now shared a room with eachother) and flopped on their bed.
"Hey, Painty, you okay?"
Paintbrush groaned in response.
"I'll take that as a no. What's botherin' you?"
They looked at the Lightbulb and sighed. "Migraine." They explained in one word.
"Did you take your meds?"
"Yes, I took my medicine. It didn't help very much."
Lightbulb clicked her tongue, "I'm sorry, I know that the lights can make it worse."
"You have nothing to be sorry about," Paintbrush said, unlike me...
"Well, why didn't you tell anyone?"
"I knew I'd get through it."
"Well, I'm here for you!"
"Thanks."
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