#so I'm in much pain tonight and hoping the meds kick in enough to sleep

[jedi-bird]

Ran a lot of errands today. Went to a local market and did a partial stock up trip. Went to a specialty market and got some really addictive potato chips and a fancy pack of mochi. Hit a craft store and checked out some yarn I've wanted to look at and found some cool star wars fabric (thank goodness for coupons). Went to a store that specializes in spices and bought a ton of stuff; for being high end, it was much cheaper for a lot of it than at the market. I still need to organize and put everything away tomorrow. Hurt too much by the time we got home so that's future me's problem.

[bellysoupset]

I'm steadily falling in love with Jonah's character! I loved that Leo carsick fic where he was nervous about Jonah because he knew he'd get called out once Jonah noticed. That being said, I have a prompt for you! What if the team goes out for breakfast the day they have a long bus ride ahead of them, and as they start the journey, whatever Jonah ordered starts to give him awful indigestion. He feels horribly bloated, which eventually makes it impossible to properly muffle the painful burps that keep sneaking up on him. He of course gets called out by teammates for his double standards, and is pissed about it until one deep belch brings up his entire breakfast.

"Alright everyone," coach Eric all but yawned, pointing the bus, "get in."

It was late evening and they had just done a quick stop for a light dinner, after much much complaining from Vince and Ryan. Now most of them were too tired for all the ruckus and chatting that had been in the morning and they obeyed without a word, falling on their respective seats.

Jonah settled on the back, because nowadays Leo took his seat on the front in order to not get obnoxiously nauseous - not that it helped 100%, but it was better than nothing.

The problem with sitting on the back was Lucas and Vince's non stop bickering. Tonight, however, they were stuffed to the gills and quiet, or as quiet as they managed to be.

They were going to be driving into the night, so Jonah took his neck pillow out of his backpack and settled against the window.

"I don't think that's right," he heard Lucas mumbling to Vince, "they're not gonna kill off Tom, he's the main character."

So much for quiet.

Jonah frowned, but said nothing for a moment, hoping they'd take the hint and shut up. To add salt to the injury, not only he was sleepy and cranky, but his stomach felt stretched tight, making it difficult to breathe.

His annoyance grew as he overheard Vince go on a spiel about the main couple of their tv show. Couldn't they do this in the morning?

"Shut the fuck up," Jonah snapped at them, "some people want to sleep."

"We're being quiet!" Lucas cried out and Jonah glared at him.

"Not quiet enough!"

Both men grumbled and complained, but eventually shut up as Mikey too joined in Jonah's chorus of "just shut up dude"

Happy he had some peace and quiet, Jonah closed his eyes and settled back down. Now, however, he had no distraction from the pulsing in his stomach.

Literal pulsing, it felt like his belly was stuffed full and pulsing under his hand. He shifted on his seat, pressed the heel of his hand to his side and rubbed it in circles. In the half lit bus, no one could tell, or no one cared.

He winced as a sharp cramp hit him, then grimaced even more as a hot burp rolled out of his mouth. It burned its way up and made Jonah regret having the spicy chicken. Bad idea and he blamed Leo for that.

Jonah opened his eyes to glare at the front, at the general direction of his friend. Leo was curled up against the window, knocked out by meds and blissfully unaware he was being cursed at.

Jonah groaned as he felt his stomach start to churn. it was already bloated and pressing against his jeans, but he'd be damned before opening his pants in the crowded bus. The pants hurt, though, pressing against his belly and squeezing him right in the middle. He burped, loudly now and felt his cheeks burn.

"Gross" Lucas scoffed, while Vince joined in with:

"Some people are trying to sleep".

"Fuck off," Jonah scoffed, turning on his seat again and cradling his stomach. It was starting to feel really disgusting inside of it and the thought of his dinner came back, now powered by repulse.

He belched wetly, clamping a hand over his mouth and Vince kicked his seat.

"Shut. Up. Jon."

"Kick my seat again and I'm going to-" he cut his threat short with another large burp and now Mikey, who genuinely had been trying to sleep unlike Lucas and Vince - who were just assholes - joined in.

"Goddamit, Jonah, shut up. Your burps are disgusting."

"I'm not tryin-"

"I want to sleep," Lucas said cheekly and Jonah glared at him, then winced as a cramp made him want to curl up. He didn't curl up.

He tried to swallow down the burps or at least to let them out slowly under his breath, but it wasn't bringing him any relief. In fact, every little airy burp he shakily let out, tasted just like dinner and Jonah dizzily planted a sweaty hand to the bus window, trying to unlock it. it was jammed shut like all windows, because of the constant a/c they had.

His stomach gurgled omniously, loud and clear, and a hiccup wrecked through him. It made the contents in his gut slosh up and morphed into a burp at the end.

"Jonah, dude!" Mikey whined and Jon wanted to tell him to fuck off, but another hiccup sent him into a burping fit.

One, two - the third one got stuck in his chest and he heard Vince scoff, "finally"

Jonah had a hand firmly clamped over his mouth, but his jaw and head felt heavy... He gagged, then the stuck burp came up, loud, wet and carrying with it his dinner.

It sprayed between his lips, on the seat to his right and Jonah didn't have a second to breathe. He retched again, loudly, and more orange vomit joined the mess, covered his lap-

"Ah shit" he heard someone say, then the lights overhead were turned on, by either Lucas or Vince, while the other ran ahead to get the bus driver to stop.

His stomach was far from done and Jonah moaned, giving up on trying to hold it back, since he was already drenched in it. He seized with another gag and burped up more vomit, coughing as the chunks clung to his throat.

Finally the violent heaves tampered off, though the nausea didn't.

"Fuck, Jon" it was Leo's voice and he could've cried, because Leo was twenty times a better comfort than Vince or Lucas or any of the others.

"I don't feel well..." he groaned, pathetically, eyes still squeezed shut and breathing through his mouth. If he saw the mess, he knew he was going to hurl again.

"Yeah, no shit, man" Vince sounded guilty as he said it, planting a heavy hand on his shoulder, "we're stopping in a second, ok?"

Jonah's only answer was another deep belch and with it more watery puke, that covered the arm he had wrapped around his complaining stomach. It was still churning fiercely, nowhere near done.

"You're okay" Leo sighed, voice gentle like he was talking with a wounded pet, "try to breathe, Jon."

"Can't-" he choked up, gagging, "...sick."

Jonah felt, before he heard, the bus stop. The lack of movement helped, minimally. Helped the vertigo at least, if not the nausea.

Then, "oh hell no-"

"Get out of the way then"

And then a hand was grabbing his arm and throwing it over someone's neck, another arm coming to sneak around his waist as he was pulled up.

Jonah didn't dare open his eyes, he clamped his mouth shut and buried his face on the person's shoulder, as he was guided past the seats and down the steps, to the cool night air.

He sucked in the clean air greedily and opened his eyes, looking anywhere but his soiled shirt and pants. It was Lucas holding him up. Fuck, Jonah thought vaguely, but what he said was "gonna hurl on your shoes."

"I'll live" Lucas all but shrugged, the insufferable prick, "I'm sorry for being a dick earlier-"

"Ugh definitely gonna vomit now," Jonah scoffed. The last thing he wanted was a pity apology.

He heard as the other guys also left the bus, just in time to witness as he burped up another weak stream of vomit, covering the humid grass on the side of the road and splashing on the toes of Lucas' sneakers.

"He's gonna be dehydrated at this pace," Leo worried and Jonah blinked, blearily, at him.

"He is right here" he scoffed, throat hoarse, "I'll be fine. I'm fine."

Lucas snorted, "yeah, you're fine" he snickered, still holding him up, "where's the coach?"

"Talking with the driver" Vince answered, still sounding extremely guilty and holding a water bottle for Jon, as well as his bag in the other hand, "you need to change out of this mess."

He belched as he opened his mouth to agree, something wet and disgusting that had Vince and Leo jumping back, Lucas holding him a little tighter.

"Jonah?" Vince called, practically whined, causing him to groan.

"I'm fine-" his stomach gurgled angrily in response, but he ignored it, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Leo jumped to action, helping him strip it down, carefully avoiding getting the puke in his hands or Jonah's hair. Vince had fished out a shirt out of his bag, along with sweatpants.

Leo glared at Jonah's jeans, the zipper, the hem and the button were all covered in vomit. Just glancing at the mess made Jonah gag, which caused Lucas to scoff.

"I'll do it" he said, passing Jon's weight to Vince, the only other one who could hold him up with such ease, and then crouching down, going for the jeans.

Jonah's stomach of course chose this exact moment to gurgle, causing Lucas to pause as he opened the jeans, "are you gonna hurl? Because not on my hair, Jon, c'mon."

"Not-" he gulped the urge to gag, "jusst rush"

Lucas sighed as he finished pushing the ruined jeans down, rolling them up and using the dry parts to wipe the vomit from Jon's lower belly and the top of his boxers. The rough texture and the pressure, even if Luke was being extra delicate, pushed out a burp and dislodged a cramp.

"Fuck" Jonah whimpered, giving up on all dignity and cradling his puffy stomach, "hurts."

"Shit" he heard Vince whisper, sounding panicked, clearly triggered by Jonah curling up with the pain.

"I wanna lay down" he all but whined, so sick and tired of this night, "I'm done."

It seemed like it took forever. Cleaning the bus (hardly helped and he spent the next twenty minutes coughing up bile in a plastic bag), then stopping at a side of the road motel and finally being able to lie down.

Jonah was beyond lightheaded when he managed, still burping wetly, but quietly. He took a minute to realize it was Lucas sharing with him and not Leo.

"Whaa?" He tried to question, squeezing his eyes shut against the nausea. Lucas shrugged, handing him an already opened water bottle.

"I'm the best option" he explained and Jonah knew it was because he had taken care of his mom during the final stages of cancer and witnessed way worse than some indigestion nausea, but it didn't make it any less humiliating.

"Leave me alone"

"If you're well enough to be a dick, you're well enough to drink your water" Lucas scoffed and Jonah groaned. He was in for a long night

[beenovel]

A little comfort fic for @tolkien-fantasy. Chronic pain is getting the best of her tonight so I wrote this while my sleeping meds kicked in. Not beta'd, not edited, and written while vaguely loopy. I may edit tomorrow.

Faramir walked into your bedroom and his stomach dropped at the sight he saw. You were lying on your back and your face was twisted in a grimace as you rubbed your hips in obvious pain. He'd known your joints had been acting up but he hadn't realized it had gotten this bad. He had realized how badly you must feel when he went to your crafting room and you weren't there, as you would do anything to spend time working on one of your projects. Faramir approached the bed and quietly called to you as he crawled into the bed as gently as he could to avoid disturbing you and causing you further pain.

"Darling?" He asked.

You groaned at him in acknowledgement.

"Oh my love," he said as he carefully wrapped you up in his arms while doing his best not to jostle you. "Is it getting worse again?"

"Yeah" you whispered quietly.

A tear slipped down your face.

"I can't even go outside."

"Well that's unacceptable," Faramir said "we'll send for more of the salve Elrond makes, the one that helps so much. I didn't know you'd run low. What do you need to be able to get outside again?"

"Well-" you hesitated.

Faramir kissed you on the temple as he waited.

You took a deep breath and continued.

"I've been thinking about getting a cane or crutches. Maybe even a wheelchair at this point, I'm in enough pain that I can barely move."

Faramir gently kissed you again and wiped a tear from your cheek.

"We will get you whatever you need. I'm so glad that you were brave enough to ask, I know that was very difficult. But I want you to know that there is no shame in getting the mobility aids you need."

I hope this brings you some sense of comfort 💛

[flameontheotherside]

Bummer... 😞

How do you miss someone you never met? How do I explain to my therapist that I feel like a widow? How the fucking hell do I not get triggered over the smallest things?

Last night I got into a funk after seeing a trailer I posted about a movie. I didn't have the sound on but watched it and just seeing it, I recognized it as my journey ...THIS. If for some reason someone decided to steal my experience for a novel or a movie idea, it would mortify me. The thought of it literally made me sick. My stomach is in knots.

Sometimes I want to stop writing here...

The moment I think that I've shared enough, something makes me write again. If I don't right away, it's like this nagging. Like the same kind of nagging I felt my whole life and since I wrote that letter to Erik's guardian angels in 2007... coincidentally on his birthday. Feeling this is another something I have to do.

Honestly I don't know how many times I have to keep writing about the same thing over and over again. About how much this journey hurts. It's not exactly some kind of sugar coated love story. This is mostly painful and I wouldn't wish this kind of journey on anyone.

There are times all I can do is lay in bed and cry.

I can't talk about it. Not even to my bf who is very very accepting and begs me to open up. I get so fucking tired of going day after day. Just living until I die and who knows what comes after that. Maybe I am crazy no matter how many times this dead guy in my ear tells me I'm not and begs me to not give this all up. All night I've had to keep myself together watching movies with my bf next to me pretending there something in my eye. It happens once in a while.

Now I'm in the bathroom with a hurting stomach not just from thinking about above but I'm lactose intolerant. Had a bowl of fruit with two kinds of Greek yogurt and two bean and cheese burritos. Don't judge me! My bf will be awake all night and maybe into the morning because he got out of bed about 5 hours ago. I know the moment my head hits that pillow I won't be able to stop crying until my meds kick in.

I wake up most days counting the hours to go to bed.

For a long time I looked forward to sleep. Erik started showing up in 2011-ish. I knew him by his hair and he'd show usually at bodies of water and it would take 4 years to finally see his face that I'd come to know and love. Technically I was already in love with in in 2012 but that year I had to let him go.

I thought there was no point to any of it. I stopped being spiritual and tried to convince myself the psychic who predicted Erik's suicide was a fraud. Deep down I knew the truth but what was I supposed to do? A psychic randomly reached out to me in 2017 asking me to talk to him. That's when I knew I was fucked and my life was going to change. Sure for the better but I can't go back no matter if I wanted to.

To be honest, I do sometimes hope I die in my sleep or that I could do what Erik did. God literally knows I tried...three fucking times. Only once since this journey started. Erik made me get up and go to the hospital. I was starting to feel very sick anyway. You can't overdose and die on some meds it turns out and if you try, it's not fun being so sick like that. I only beat myself up for weeks for being so stupid.

Erik always says, "Were together now!"

...Yeah but not really. It's easy for him to say because he's dead and soaked in spirit juice so bad its like he's forgotten what it's like to be human. No he remembers and that's why he's always saying that. I don't want to talk to him tonight. If course he's okay with that. Sometimes there would be days that I don't. It's not like we are constantly talking and whatever. I have a life. We usually save conversations for before bed. I like the idea if having a normal life. Something I always wanted because I was constantly bullied for not being normal. I realize that now that normal was something I was never supposed to be.

So idk if I'll be writing for a while. I don't know how long this funk is going to last.

😘💕 Good night y'all!

[2idiots]

Keep Yourself Alive

pt. 6 // pt. 7 // pt. 8a

word count: 1,667ish

NCT Frat Social Media AU // College Athlete & Fratboy Lucas x reader

warnings: not really any, kind angsty, more than just mentions of chronic pain

(I don't know how but the second paragraph got deleted when I first uploaded. I have since added it in. So if you see something new that's why)

---

Getting Johnny from outside the building to inside your room was a lot more difficult than you expected. This was partially because your best friend was much drunker than his texts suggested and partially because each step was sending a pain reverberating down your legs and up your abdomen. A pain that you knew the mild over-the-counter pain meds would do little to numb but you had taken them with false hope anyway. Before your best friend had forced you into letting his drunkass in you were curled into your bed with a heating pad pressed into your abdomen, hoping eventually exhaustion would win over excruciating pain.

This was the real reason you bolted out of Jet Lag the minute your friends were off in different directions distracted. The pain had triggered before Mark's open mic night started but you were not about to miss the night you friend had been talking about for weeks. This was so important to him and you had to be there. So you sucked it up and promised yourself to duck out the moment it was clear and Mark had performed. Woo noticing and staying over for a few hours was just a welcomed surprise. And the leftover baked goods he brought were another plus side, not that you had any appetite. At least your blubbering fool of a friend would benefit from the pile of pastries sitting on your desk, if you could make it past the giggling desk attendant.

The first time you walked passed her with bleary eyes, focused on only the task ahead she called out something about the “cute Oppa” at the door. Immediately a gag raced up your throat at that, Johnny? A cute Oppa? Gross. He was like your brother, actually more like your overprotective mother. Sure you joked about Johnny being a daddy, but it was all shits and giggles to make him mad with Mark. He wasn't actually one.  The second time she made some sort of pass at him that you blocked out and stifled another gag. You didn’t need to see or hear that child making passes at your best friend.

That wasn’t the only thing she was giggling at though. You and Johnny were quite the sight. He was a stumbling, stuttering fool and you were wearing pajamas that had been picked out in the dark, not even your shoes matched. These were things you had thrown on when Johnny begged you to let him in but your headache was pounding too much to turn the lights on, which was also the reason for the sunglasses. 

Speaking of Big Foot, he was using you almost completely as a support and he weighed a lot more than his bony ass looked. How he managed to make it to your building from 7th Sense was beyond you, he could barely make it three steps without giggling and sliding around. Honestly this made you more than a little nervous for Mark, usually he was the giggly one after a few drinks. If Johnny was this drunk, then Mark could very well be dead.

Overall the hardest obstacle for Johnny to maneuver around was your actual room. He tripped over everything. Maybe it was his long spindly legs combined with the alcohol, but he even fell just trying to walk over your rug. You had to catch him before he face planted. Of course he just contiuned blabbering about the night and how well it went the whole time, even while laughing at his clumsiness. “Then Mark fell! Kinda like how he is falling for sunflower boy but like fell… on the actual ground… like how I just almost fell!” To which you just nodded, handing him a pastry and an ice cold water bottle. “And Jae was so funny, he was talking about the basketball team and one of their parties last week where someone drank beer from a ball that had been cut in half. Isn’t that gross?”

“Yeah babe, real gross,” You nodded, trying to push him toward your bed. You might not have been asleep before he messaged but you were still in bed ready to sleep and you wanted to be back there. “Can you get in bed, Jojo? I'll tired.”

Following your direction like a lost lamb, Johnny swiftly removed all his out layers and climbed into your bed continuing to talk about the basketball team and how pretty and funny they were, all the while giving you very pointed looks. Or at least he was prattling on until he went completely silent and tense before screeching, “THERE’S SOMETHING WARM!”

Arms crossed and irritation pulsed through you at the scream, you leaned over to pull the heating pad out from under him and wiggled it around in your outstretched hand, “Johnny you’ve met HP before, HP meet Big Foot.”

“HP? You named your heating pad?” He questioned already snuggling back into your sheets like he owned the bed. This happened every time he was over, sober or drunk it didn’t matter; Johnny took up every blanket and pillow in your entire bed: partially because his size, mostly because he was an asshole. One of the many reasons you were hesitant to let him stay over anymore, even though you always ended up letting him stay.

“Might as well, he’s in my bed so often,” You grinned before grabbing another water bottle out of the mini fridge in the corner of the room and tossing it his direction. While this wasn’t a common occurrence, drunk Johnny, you did know that he would wake up in three hours whining about a dry mouth and you didn't want to deal with it.

“I mean he wasn’t on Halloween.” Luckily you flipped the lights off before you could see his suggestive eyebrow wiggle. Here was the worst part, talkative drunk Johnny taking an interest in your life and trying to lay down his tips on life. 

Grabbing an extra blanket for yourself you slid in next to him and laughed that thought off, “Actually HP was, ALSO I thought we agreed to not talk about Halloween, leave the past behind us and all.”

“Behind us? Is that how you like it y/n?” He let out a slight whimper when you turned over enough to give him a solid kick to the shin. This alcohol was giving him far more confidence than normal and you didn’t like it. Throwing his hands up, Johnny tossed out a worthless apology and whined, “I deserved that ok. But you know I wouldn’t call it the past, don’t you tutor the dude?”

That elicited a quiet response from you, a simple, “Yeah.”

“Isn’t it like two or three times a week?” He didn’t stop his incessant babbling long enough for you to answer, adding on, “You’re quite popular, my friends keep asking about you too.” Then a switch suddenly flipped in Johnny’s mind, evident by how he practically climbed over you to switch the lamp back on and give you his best mom glare, “Wait, you’re sleeping with HP?” You let out a few weak protests as the light flooded your room and his bony ass arm squished you down into the bed digging into your side. Drunk friends sucked. Too bad you loved them too much to leave them on the street. “So you’re in pain? You’re in pain and you didn’t say anything? You just went home alone and lied to Mark and me?”

“Johnny I always sleep with a heating pad and I’m always in pain. It's not a big deal.” Tonight just happened to be bad, still was, but you left that part out. “Also Jungwoo just left; I wasn’t alone.” That was accompanied by a successful effort to push him off so you could flip the light off again and snuggle into the heating pad again. “Now go to sleep, I'm tired.”

There was a brief moment of silence before you heard sniffling and an occadsional shuffle.

“Are you crying?” You asked incredulously, flipping over to see him hastily wiping away his tears in the ambient light filtering in through the window. Sure enough, your bitch-ass best friend was laying on the other side of the bed using his white undershirt to wipe his tears away. At least he was smart enough not to use your sheets as the tissue. “Stop crying.” This was new. Your friends probably knew way too much about how hard your days were getting, in fact Johnny had driven you to the ER one too many times over the past year and a half, but they had never cried in front of you. At least not about you. 

You hated it.

His immediate response was denial, no he wasn’t crying. These weren’t tears, they were allergies. "Leaks in my face." But you still heard him mutter a muted “I just want you to be happy and not in pain” as the alcohol running through his system finally knocked him out.

You were struck silent, not sure how to respond. Sure he was your closest friend and that meant he had to like you, but this affection made breathing a little hard: your chest not quite expanding like it should. You felt a warm tear roll down your cheek as you turned to face the other side of the room, an effort to get away. This was exactly why you didn't tell them about tonight, you didn't want them burdened with your pain. They should have to suffer just because you were. 

Ignoring the ache in your chest, you blindly reached out for where you set your phone on the bedside table. You still may not be able to sleep but you could get some reading done and maybe forget the sound of Johnny's tears. And maybe, just maybe, the words would lull you into some dreamlike state so you could rest. It was only a few minutes into reading that a text interrupted the chapter. 

summary: College is hard enough, right? Coursework, two jobs, a social life, and the state of your mental health. As if that was enough now the school’s no.1 athlete won’t leave you alone after a one night stand. And maybe you like him back but you have a tendency to run when life gets too difficult especially now that undiagnosed chronic pain just seems to be getting worse with each passing month.

(I've decided updates will be Thursday at 6pm. I hope you enjoy this chapter)

Taglist: @princeofshenzhenuwus