#high frequency treatment

[ecgekg]

this hot guy is undergoing electrical treatment which will see him shocked at up to 60V at various nerve points. It's a novel if somewhat uncomfortable experience

#electro treatment #high frequency treatment #hft #electrodes #medfet #male patient

[childjames35]

Sudden Muffled Listening To In One Ear

We can deal with many medical points from listening to loss and steadiness points, to sinusitis, complications and extra. When too many of those hair cells are misplaced, your capability to listen to is completely diminished. "Loud noise is traumatic and may injure internal ear hair cells," says Orly Avitzur, M.D., Consumer Reports' medical director. If the noise around you is so loud that you must shout to be heard otherwise you can’t hear the folks round you, there's a probability that you’ll have some hassle hearing. Behind-the-ear hearing aids, because the name implies, are worn behind the ear. This kind of listening to aid, which is in a case, connects to a plastic ear mold inside the outer ear. These hearing aids are usually used for gentle to severe hearing loss. Poorly fitted BTE hearing aids can cause feedback, an annoying "whistling" sound, in the ear. Titanium is a powerful, corrosion resistant steel often utilized in medical implants and aero-space technologies. The use of titanium to construct the shell of customized within the ear canal becoming listening to aids offers quite a few advantages over conventional acrylic materials. Hearing and balance are critical to how we conduct our day by day lives. ENT specialists deal with conditions such as ear an infection, hearing loss, dizziness, ringing in the ears , ear, face, or neck pain, and extra. Sound waves, which are really vibrations in the air round us, are collected by the pinna on each side of our head and are funnelled into the ear canals. This data can help you and your physician make any essential choices to stop or change the drug therapy earlier than your listening to is damaged. Usually the first sign of ototoxicity is ringing in the ears . This listening to loss may go unnoticed until your ability to understand speech is affected. The eardrum also can serve to protect the inside ear from prolonged publicity to loud, low-pitch noises. When the brain receives a signal that indicates this type of noise, a reflex happens on the eardrum. President Joe Biden's Build Back Better plan, currently being debated in Congress, would add dental, imaginative and prescient and listening to protection to Medicare. However, due to its place and structure, together with the nerve connections, it is believed that it serves the chook as a barometer and altimeter by sensing changes in air strain. https://spontaneousreviews.com/clarisil-pro-review/ ’s organ of steadiness consists of three semicircular canals.

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[knchr]

CoriCoran EW-RA550

#want #medical equipment #panasonic #high frequency treatment device #2023

[chinesegreenteagoldentriangle]

Which kind of tea, green tea or black tea, is better for lowering blood pressure?

Lowering blood pressure can be quite challenging, and many people with hypertension can relate to this. Every millimeter of mercury (mmHg) reduction in blood pressure is a long-term gift obtained through strict medication adherence, a healthy diet, and moderate exercise.

However, scientists have discovered a group of people who can easily lower their blood pressure with a simple and small habit. After just 12 weeks, they achieved significant blood pressure reduction.

They found that long-term tea consumption reduced the average systolic and diastolic blood pressure by 1.8 mmHg and 1.4 mmHg, respectively.

So, which type of tea is best for lowering blood pressure?

Part 1: Although there are many types of tea in the market, such as green tea, black tea, oolong tea, white tea, yellow tea, and chrysanthemum tea, most studies on the relationship between tea consumption and blood pressure focus on green tea and black tea.

Researchers from the Fuwai Hospital of the Chinese Academy of Medical Sciences published a meta-analysis in the British Journal of Nutrition, which included 25 relevant studies and 1,476 participants. They found that people who drank green tea had a significant reduction in systolic blood pressure by 2.1 mmHg and diastolic blood pressure by 1.7 mmHg. In contrast, those who drank black tea had a reduction of 1.4 mmHg in systolic blood pressure and 1.1 mmHg in diastolic blood pressure. Therefore, long-term consumption of green tea seems to be more effective in controlling blood pressure.

Another meta-analysis by foreign scholars also found that green tea had a more significant blood pressure-lowering effect than black tea.

Frequent consumption is key

Although many studies suggest that tea consumption can help lower blood pressure, this does not mean that people with hypertension who do not have a tea-drinking habit can immediately lower their blood pressure by drinking a cup of tea. After all, tea is not medicine.

Researchers from the Fuwai Hospital found that acute tea intake had no effect on systolic and diastolic blood pressure. Blood pressure reduction only became significant after drinking tea for more than 12 weeks, with systolic blood pressure decreasing by 2.6 mmHg and diastolic blood pressure decreasing by 2.2 mmHg.

In addition to "long-term," some scholars suggest that the frequency of tea consumption is also related to blood pressure reduction. Hodgson et al. evaluated the effect of long-term regular tea consumption on blood pressure in older women. A total of 218 women over 70 years old were included in the study. The results showed that tea intake was related to a significant reduction in systolic and diastolic blood pressure. An increase of 250 ml/day (one cup) of tea intake was associated with a 2.2 mmHg reduction in systolic blood pressure and a 0.9 mmHg reduction in diastolic blood pressure.

This suggests that frequent tea consumption may have a beneficial effect on blood pressure in older women.

Furthermore, a study on blood pressure and tea consumption in the elderly population in Jiangsu, China, involving 4,579 participants, found a significant negative correlation between tea consumption frequency and systolic and diastolic blood pressure after adjusting for age, sex, lifestyle, and other factors.

In conclusion, although many studies have shown that tea consumption can help lower blood pressure, it is important not to make the tea too strong.

#blood pressure #green tea #black tea #hypertension treatment #medication #healthy diet #moderate exercise #systolic blood pressure #diastolic blood pressure #meta analysis #tea consumption #frequency #elderly population #correlation #adjustment #strong tea #High blood pressure management #Long-term tea consumption #Blood pressure reduction #Systolic and diastolic blood pressure reduction #Tea types #Oolong tea #White tea #Yellow tea #Chrysanthemum tea #Meta-analysis study #Elderly women #Lifestyle adjustments #Blood pressure measurement #Hypertension symptoms

[renuvenate]

What is a Cryotherapy Facial Treatment?

Are you interested in trying a new way to get healthier skin? Contact Us Today to schedule your appointment for Cryotherapy Facial Treatment, cryo facial, laser resurfacing, prp facial, high frequency facial, laser treatment for face, spa facial, facial aesthetics in Bromley, London!

#cryotherapy facial treatment #cryo facial #facials near #laser resurfacing #prp facial #high frequency facial #laser treatment for face #spa facial #facial aesthetics #facial near me

[reality-detective]

Most of you do not know that Nikola Tesla also invented medical treatments that involved the use of Electromagnetism & Light to treat a wide variety of disease.

The devices would emit oscillating waves of various frequencies consisting of low frequency pulsing magnetic fields to treat pain, acoustic vibration machines to detoxify organs of the body, high frequency cancer killing radio waves and ultra high frequency ultraviolet light to create ozone to deactivate viruses.

“The desire that guides me in all I do is the desire to harness the forces of nature to the service of mankind.” - Nikola Tesla. 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think about it #think for yourselves #think for yourself #do your homework #do some research #do your own research #ask yourself questions #question everything #quantum medicine #quantum healing #quantum wellness #alternative medicine

[expertcondor41]

Muffled Listening To In Ears

Our specialists are extremely expert at surgical treatment of ear issues or injuries that affect listening to, together with perforated eardrum, cholesteatoma , and otosclerosis . Our skilled staff work together and can go the additional mile that will assist you get the solutions and solutions you should any hearing, nostril, and steadiness problem you may have. The dependable and efficient Clara offers a high-tech, totally customizable listening to expertise. Muffs typically are higher at screening out greater frequency sounds. From neon foam-on-strings to high-tech headphones, there’s something for everybody. If you assume that you might need issues with your ears, we recommend that you simply get your ears checked by a listening to professional. When this course of isn't functioning appropriately, listening to loss can occur. Read more facts about hearing lossand the causes of hearing loss. Total junk - I suspect many use the identical cheapo China-made circuit boardings. Caldwell's ($30 Dick's Sporting) worked/fit OK, but did not last - I'm on my 3rd pair! Haven't tried Leights or MSAs, but damned if I'll spend $50-75+ for plastic & but extra suspect Chinese circuitry AND fittings. Sadly this is kind of an issue with muffs, I actually have not found anybody that makes a very small adult-sized set. Clear Sound 911 would suggest earplugs and should you need extra safety to use muffs over that even if they don't match completely. Go for consolation over excellent match if you have plugs beneath them. The educational subject concerned with hearing is auditory science. For help getting began with listening to evaluation and the best treatment specifically for you, get in touch with our pleasant team right now. [newline]We may help help and information you to ensure you have the data and merchandise that will help enhance the quality of your hearing in day-to-day life. One of the signs of Meniere’s Disease is a feeling of clogged/stuffy ears. Meniere’s Disease is brought on by a build-up of fluid however there isn't any definitive answer into why some folks get the disease. Ear barotrauma is an damage to your ear due to modifications in barometric or water stress. Is compliant with governmental and institutional funding company public access requirements. As a service to our authors, LWW will identify to National Library of Medicine articles that require deposit pursuant to the funding company requirements.

#Hearing Loss #Hearing Aids #Hearing Test #Hearing Damage #Hard of Hearing #Pro Fit Hearing #Clogged Ears Muffled Hearing #Hearing Protection #Sudden Hearing Loss #How Old Is Your Hearing #Sudden Hearing Loss in One Ear #What Causes Hearing Loss #Online Learning #Noise Induced Hearing Loss #Applied Hearing Solutions #High Frequency Hearing Loss #Sudden Hearing Loss Recovery #Sudden Hearing Loss Treatment #Kids Learning Videos

[bedrest93]

The Antatomy Of Hearing And Steadiness

I've had 3 pairs over the last four years break aside on the "bridge". The bridge half was once made of sprung metal and that lasted 20 years earlier than the rivets holding the ear muffs to it rusted off. Any brands or fashions that still use sprung steels can be appreciated. The ear "muffs" had been about $7 to $10 each, And they work simply in addition to brand name muffs I've paid $30 for. https://spontaneousreviews.com/clarisil-pro-review/ provides 12-month 0% financing for audiologist-tested listening to aids. MDHearingAid manufactures the units in the us and sells directly to consumers to maintain prices down. Audicus keeps overhead low and eliminates the “middleman” in listening to assist transactions to keep prices down. You will pay for hearing aids with a monthly subscription, financing choices or an upfront payment. Audicus has clinics in a number of major U.S. cities, however it’s best to buy listening to aids instantly from the net site. Follow these easy steps to deal with your ears, enhance your listening to and cut back the risks of listening to loss. Hearing loss and deafness also can occur as a complication of other diseases such as measles, meningitis, rubella and mumps. Work to prevent these illnesses by way of vaccination and hygiene applications can have a beneficial impression on rates of hearing loss and deafness. The open fit listening to aids sit behind the ear just like the receiver-in-the-ear hearing help. Get the allow you to need from a therapist near you–a FREE service from Psychology Today. The cochlea only sends raw knowledge -- complex patterns of electrical impulses. The brain is like a central laptop, taking this input and making some sense of all of it. This is an extraordinarily complex operation, and scientists are still a great distance from understanding every little thing about it. The side effects of feeling pressure in your ears can trigger a complete host of other accompanying sensations that are somewhat unpleasant. It includes the usage of sound to distract you from tinnitus. For this, the person should attempt to hearken to the environmental sound, music, radio songs, sound turbines, etc. Secretory otitis media may be handled with a tympanostomy tube or grommet. Ruptured eardrums can be closed with grafts, and narrowed segments of an artery can be repaired. Diagnosis reveals the specific cause of pulsatile tinnitus on the premise of checks and observations. When you shop by way of retailer hyperlinks on our web site, we may earn affiliate commissions. 100% of the fees we gather are used to assist our nonprofit mission. Philips Respironics issued a recall for some CPAP and BiLevel PAP devices and mechanical ventilators. Everyone must put on masks at all times and wash their arms upon entry.

#Hearing Loss #Hearing Aids #Hearing Test #Hearing Damage #Hard of Hearing #Pro Fit Hearing #Clogged Ears Muffled Hearing #Hearing Protection #Sudden Hearing Loss #How Old Is Your Hearing #Sudden Hearing Loss in One Ear #What Causes Hearing Loss #Online Learning #Noise Induced Hearing Loss #Applied Hearing Solutions #High Frequency Hearing Loss #Sudden Hearing Loss Recovery #Sudden Hearing Loss Treatment #Kids Learning Videos

[myosotisa]

Chasm - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖  summary: You're a researcher working at one of the fault lines throughout Hawkins, studying the closed and dormant gates to an alternate dimension. While you're alone on site, one of the gates wakes up again.

‖  tags: horror. i cannot stress this enough. this is unsettling and creepy and angsty with slight sexual tension. in line with the content in the show. post season 4, canon compliant. emetophobia warning. dubcon kissing. forced consumption (writing it made me gag just warning you. but im also kind of a baby so). no y/n, she/her pronouns used. flayed!eddie infects you. open ended ending. also steve is there sometimes. there's a ton of background lore that is only vaguely explained lol

‖  word count: 8.3k ‖  read on AO3 ‖  the song ‖

None of the rifts have shown any activity in over a year. Months and months of dead readings and no signals. Just waiting.

So what's a girl supposed to do when your EMF meter spikes alone on site? Sit around and wait for a crew to suit up and march their way over to the fault you were at? No fucking way. No chance.

You report in about the sudden spike in gamma radiation and tell them you're going to find the source. The project lead tells you to stay put and wait for assistance, as expected.

Your radiation gear was already halfway on. Oops, sorry boss, didn't hear you.

Handheld voltage meter in one hand, audio recorder in the other, and a pocket full of glow sticks, you push out past the plastic tarps and into the humid night air of Indiana summer.

The readings bring you west, toward the condemned trailer park and the "start" of your fault line. You crack a glow stick and drop it every few feet, marking your path. When the reading jumps up, you make a '+' sign with two at the spot before continuing forward. It was hard to say without exact measurements, but it seemed to be increasing at equal intervals. Like frozen waves on the surface of water.

"I'm approaching the Forest Hills sign," you say into the receiver, your own voice the only sound in the night air. "Current readings are…" You bring the meter up, using the light hanging from your neck to read the display. "Approaching 70 mv/m of high frequency radiation, roughly 31016 Hz. The next… 'Layer', for lack of a better term, will most likely breach Safe EMF levels, not considering the potential protection of the suit."

Lowering the meter again when it gives a beep of warning, you tuck it under your arm and crack another glow stick, leaving a '+' at the boundary to the trailer park. "I'll probably need treatment when I get back to base – as long as I grab a reading from the source and get out quickly, there won't be lasting damage. You hear that, Dr. Pierce?" You say through an over-confident huff, readjusting your arms to keep moving forward. "I'm well aware of the risks and take responsibility for my own actions."

The park itself looks like a bad dream at night – trailers abandoned hastily with doors still hung open and belongings scattered along the ground. Between the sudden fault opening and the bureau rushing in, the existing residents had been given very little time and grace to move into temporary housing across town. And it looked every bit like an entire community of people had just up and disappeared.

The suit you were in didn’t exactly help coordination, so you moved slowly and carefully over and around discarded objects along the dirt. Clothing, kitchen utensils, a quilt, a stack of newspapers, a child's toy. All left untouched for over a year.

Clearing the corner of one of the empty trailers, you catch sight of something strange.

“The fault itself has looked normal up to this point, no activity. But I can see the source now. It’s… It appears to be glowing red, fading in and out in a constant cycle.” Approaching even slower than before, you watch intently as the glow grows and then retreats again. Like waves on the shore.

The meter gives another shrill alarm – making you jump nearly out of your skin as you swat at it with the recorder. “Jesus Christ!” It quiets with a sinking pitch in your hand. 

Before checking the reading, you quickly make another ‘+’ with glow sticks, digging them into the dirt a bit in an attempt to keep them from moving. Still down on one knee, you bring the meter up to your flashlight again.

“The meter is now reading 110 mv/m, same frequency. I’m roughly… 12 feet out from the source now. There’s a, uh, humming sound. Not sure if the recording is picking it up. And feeling pressure on my eardrums,” you explain into the device, eyes locked on the glow ahead. “I’ll continue to approach – see if I can get a closer reading. If it jumps above 150, I’ll fall back.”

Pushing to your feet again with a huff, you readjust your full load and press forward slowly. The closer you get to the source, you can see that the fault rapidly grows in size. The space between the edges looks large enough to fit a car as it rounds out at the end – a red pond in the ground.

“I can see the source clearer now. The glow is coming from within – there’s a…" You take a few steps closer, squinting to get a better look. "It appears to be an opaque membrane covering the space between. The glow is coming from behind it. Still cycling at an even rate, no change.”

The meter in your hand gives its shrillest warning yet, scaring you badly enough that it goes flying out of your hand; it hits the ground and flips closer to the edge. “Shit, fuck!”

You shuffle forward and drop down onto your shaky knees, grabbing for the meter as it continues to let out that grating alarm into the night air. Smacking it once more, the sound cuts off abruptly, giving you a chance to breathe.

Bringing it up to your flashlight, your eyes go wide as you lift the recorder again with your other trembling hand. “I’m nearly at the edge now, only a foot or so away  – EMF reading 187 mv/m. Rapid increase from the last point.”

Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, your head snapping toward it.

“There’s… What the fuck?" You pause, tempted to rub your eyes to make sure you're really seeing what you're seeing.

"There’s movement below the membrane. It… It’s just a shadow, I can’t tell what it is, but the movement is rapid and the… The humming is getting louder.” Your heart is pounding now, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin beneath the suit. 

“Going to retreat back to base,” you say, mostly attempting to reassure yourself as you slowly back away from the edge. “Final reading was 189 mv/m at 31016 Hz.”

There’s a crackle of static right before a thumb presses the pause button roughly, silencing the recorder in the center of the table.

“Is that all?” General Richard Highland asks, sounding impatient as he leans back in his conference chair. “That doesn’t tell us anything about what happened to her.”

“No, sir, there’s more.” Private Steve Harrington insists, inclining his head toward the dirty recorder he had delivered. He’s standing by the edge of the table at attention, hands clasped in front of him.  “The recording keeps going.”

Dr. Pierce leans forward from his seat, giving the General a stiff look as he presses the play button again.

There’s a few more moments of static before the woman’s voice fades back in, layered beneath the hum of attempted interference.

“I’m definitely gonna need that rad treatment, Dr. Pierce. My badge is that warning color, even beneath the suit,” she continues with a shaky laugh, the sound of plastic shuffling behind it. “Hopefully I don’t lose my hair or something, but that’s… What?” 

The table of scientists and military personnel sits in tense silence as her voice cuts out again. Half of them are on the edge of their seats, the others showing off a measured calm or disinterest. The general looks particularly annoyed and impatient, while Dr. Pierce looks almost like he wants to throw up.

“There’s… Something’s happening – I don’t–” 

An abrasive crackle echoes out into the room, loud enough to send nearly everyone into a wince, before the recording cuts back in with the sound of screaming. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?! SHIT – I’ve gotta get–" A burst of interference sounds, followed by a metallic grating, like a ship groaning beneath the weight of the ocean.

Her panicked voice comes through, sounding further away than before. "FUCK! It – It’s got my ankle. Let go, you fucking piece of –! SHI–”

The recording cuts out to a buzzing hum.

No one moves for a few moments. Not until Private Harrington steps up to silence the recorder. “We found this recording, a lab issue EMF meter, and a broken flashlight at the edge of the fault." He explains, producing the other two items from the pack resting at his feet. "It was dormant when we got there – solid again.”

“So it just…” One of the other scientists starts, looking at Dr. Pierce uneasily.

“Dragged her through and went back to sleep.” Dr. Pierce confirms solemnly, his gaze locked on the dirty recorder.

“It’s never done this before?” A 2nd scientist, new to the project, asks. The others shake their heads. “So what do we do?”

All eyes turn to Dr. Pierce, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“We wait for it to wake up again.”

Wake up.

Come on, little lamb.

Wake up now.

Looks so peaceful.

But you’ve got to wake up.

…

WAKE UP.

There’s something wet on your face.

Feeling is slowly returning to your body, your eyes closed and too heavy to open. But there’s something dripping on your cheek – droplets running down toward your mouth. Sticking to your dry lips for a moment or two before falling off. You’re on the ground on your stomach, your cheek squished against something that feels like mud.

Your brain has yet to kick on fully as it tries to regain consciousness through a pounding ache, resonating with the throb of your left leg. It feels like you’re still wearing the rad suit, but the head piece is gone and it might be ripped in places – mud seeping in to touch your skin.

It’s almost like you’re sinking.

Eyelids fluttering open and you’re faced with a desaturated swamp. Like someone came through and sucked half the color out of it.

Lifting one arm is difficult, suctioned into the mud you’re laying in. Once you’ve freed it enough, you’re able to push off the sticky, wet sludge beneath you enough to roll over onto your back.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

You sit up with a start, your abdomen screaming in protest as your brain swims. Blinking through the blur in your eyes, you struggle to see anything at all in the dark – only momentarily granted sight by the flashes of red lightning overhead.

“Who’s there?” You call out into the dark, an attempt to sound brave, but your voice trembles as your eyes rapidly flit back and forth.

“Over here.”

The lightning flashes once more as you whip your head toward the voice – showing the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away. From what little you see, he’s tall and slender, head tilted to the side like he’s curious. There’s no chance you can see his face or anything else about him.

Until he’s in your face, crouched down right beside you – crossing the space and appearing in the span of a blink. It gives you a start, attempting to back up but getting caught up in the mud still suctioned to your lower half.

Your fear seems to bring a small smile to his face, plump lips tilting up at the corner. He looks so familiar… Long curly hair draped wetly over his shoulders, the sparse bangs across his forehead, and the soft turn of his nose. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in again slightly, squinting your eyes a bit more in the dark to see him better.

“I know you…” You insist softly, causing his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise. “How do I know you?”

“No clue, because I’ve never met you in my life.” He replies, lips parting in a grin. “And I’m good with faces – ‘specially pretty ones.”

His response catches you off guard as your brain continues reeling and struggling to intake information, which is normally your forte. There’s a million questions on the tip of your tongue and you have no idea where to start.

“You’ll probably need to lose the suit if you want to get out of that shit,” he continues when you don’t respond, motioning to your stationary legs with a wave of his hand. And he’s probably right, with the way the mud beneath you is stuck tight to the shiny plastic. Your best hope is to try to use the suit as a stepping off point to get to stable ground.

“Where should I step once I pull out?” You ask, hoping he’ll understand your goal.

A blink and he’s gone again – another flash of red light placing his silhouette off to your left. “Think you can make it to here?” He responds, voice raised slightly and sounding like he’s teasing you or challenging you. It makes your competitive side flare up on instinct – a frustrated huff leaving your nose as you plan your escape.

Opening the front of the suit, you slip both arms out and let the upper half fall flat behind you. Pulling out both of your legs next, your butt sinks deeper into the ground, nearly sending you off balance as you quickly shift your weight forward onto your knees, using the suit as a stepping stone. It starts to sink, mud coming up over the edge and inching toward your knees, so you have to move fast.

Pushing to your feet makes it sink faster, wet sludge touching the side of your ankle just as you push off in a jump toward where the man was standing.

You land on the ankle that had been grasped by the tentacle, not realizing the throbbing meant it’d been twisted. It makes you cry out in pain and fall forward, directly into the man’s chest.

“Woah there!” He says in surprise, grasping onto your elbows to keep you sort of upright. Between the aching pain and the tears pressing at your eyes, you just barely manage to notice how cold and clammy he is – especially where his hands grip your bare biceps.

Rocketing back, you press your weight onto your good leg and put some distance between the two of you again, your dirty arms crossing over your tank top and smearing it with mud. “Sorry, my, uh, ankle…” You offer awkwardly, still not even sure who you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about it, angel. You good?”

He actually sounds like he cares. Like he’s concerned for you. Who is he? 

“I’ll be fine,” you insist stubbornly, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat. Free from your precarious situation, at least partially, you struggle to figure out what to address first. “How are you doing that? Like… Teleporting? Or are you just moving really fast?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “What–,” he disappears in a blink and then you feel a burst of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end, “this?”

You lurch forward before turning around to level him a glare. “Yes, that – don’t do that.”

His hands tuck into the front pockets of the leather jacket he’s wearing as he shrugs, looking quite pleased with himself. “Sorry, angel, didn’t mean to spook you.”

Then silence falls, both of you eyeing each other – you suspiciously and him curiously. The extended pause makes you think you aren’t going to be told how anytime soon.

A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of the trees in the surrounding swampland and sending a shiver down your spine. Suit lost, you’re down to a tank top, jeans, and a pair of no slip shoes (which were required for people working in the field for some reason). You were dressed for the humid interior of the field site tent in summer and it appears that you have landed yourself in a place where that is not enough.

Taking advantage of the silence, you try to remember everything you can about your studies into the ‘gates’ from when they were open. Very little was known beside second hand accounts and old data – some of which may not even be accurate anymore given the nature of the fault lines. If there was anywhere to start, it would be trying to find the gate you’d been dragged through.

With any luck, you could go right back to your dimension.

But that didn’t account for him. The pale, wet, unsettling-yet-somehow-charming guy that was still staring right at you.

“How long have you been here? Do you know?” You question cautiously, not wanting to upset him in any way.

“That depends, what year is it?”

Your heart drops into your stomach, completely at odds with the continued grin on his face. It looks almost manic now – like every time he sets you off balance brings him great joy. Deciding you’d actually rather not know how long he’s been in here, you move on.

“Have you been alone this whole time? Or are there other people here?”

His grin spreads, like he’s in on a joke you’re not aware of. “I haven’t been alone, no.”

This piques your curiosity again, adjusting your weight on your good leg. “Do you have a community here? How many of you are there?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” He suggests, taking a step or two away from you, his hands still tucked into his pockets.

The idea is tempting, if only to learn more about what is going on here, but there’s something nagging at the back of your mind. Something you should be remembering. Something you’re missing. Plus, for all you know, this man does not have your best interests at heart.

“I should probably try to find the gate that brought me here,” you say, slightly regretfully. “See if I can cross back over.”

“Oh, right,” he responds, tapping his forehead with his palm like it should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, I can show you the way.”

This surprises you again, slight concern causing you to stand up straighter. “You can?”

“Sure thing, the closest one isn’t far,” he motions behind him with a tilt of his chin, taking another step back. “Come on.”

So you follow the strange man into the dark, limping after him on your twisted ankle. The mud starts to dry on your skin, hair, and clothing – crusting over and hardening in places. You pick at pieces as you walk, letting the chunks and flakes fall to the ground behind you. From what little you can see, there are vines everywhere along the ground, weaving between tree trunks and layering over each other in place. The man seems to step over them – and you can’t tell if it’s on purpose or a coincidence – but you make a habit of not touching the vines just in case.

It’s unsettlingly quiet here. Every once in a while you’ll hear what sounds like an animal – a howl, a chittering, the thump of feet on the earth. But they are few and far between, leaving mostly just the rush of wind through the trees and a sort of muffled silence, pressure on your ears.

Your paranoia kicks up as the quiet continues, suspiciously eyeing the back of your escort as he leads you forward. For all you knew, he wasn’t leading you anywhere near the gate. You have no reason to trust him beyond the fact that he helped you get out of the sludge you woke up in. He was in this dimension after all, clearly familiar with it. That had to be a red flag if anything, given what little you actually knew about it.

So much was classified beyond your reach – the bureau was very specific with what you were allowed to read and know and what you weren’t. Given the dormant nature of the fault lines, it hadn’t been necessary for you to learn too much about the dimension on the other side. Most of what you studied and knew was about the gates themselves.

Even with the bureau being as paranoid and obsessive as it was – a lowly field researcher getting dragged to the other side and needing to survive hadn’t seemed to be on their radar.

The pessimistic part of you not-so-helpfully supplies that was probably just because they weren't very interested in your survival at all. They’d probably prefer it if you died here. If anything, your exposure to the other side made you more of a liability.

Maybe one they could experiment on, if you got lucky and survived.

This train of thinking isn’t helping anything. You could worry about what your life would become if you made it out.

Walking up to the lifeless and solid gate turns that into a very tentative if.

“Looks like the door’s shut tight,” Eddie offers vaguely, rocking back and forth on his heels as you circle the hole in the ground, like seeing a new angle will change something about it.

The opening looks largely the same as the other side, in the center of the abandoned trailer park with the forest surrounding. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as the breeze hits harder in the open field, no longer buffered by trees on all sides. On the bright side, it is slightly better lit here and you can see your companion a bit clearer now.

“Do you know how these things work? Like how and why it opens and shuts?” You ask desperately, looking at him from the other side of the crevice.

The corner of his mouth tilts up minutely, his shoulders shrugging. “Yes and no.”

The scowl returns to your face, frustration mounting as another shiver of cold racks your body. “Are you intentionally being unhelpful? Or are you just an idiot?”

His lips part in a surprised ‘o’, his eyebrows raising like he’s impressed. “That hurts, angel. I’m no idiot, and I think I’ve been plenty helpful. After all… I could’ve just left you to drown out there. Or maybe led you into a trap. Or left you for the dogs.” He taunts, returning to a toothy grin. The question of if he has your well being in mind gets more and more clear with a resounding no.

A fearful jolt runs down your spine as you stare him down, trying not to let your fear show. Grappling tightly to your anger, you taunt back, “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you?”

A blink and he’s gone.

Your entire body goes on alert, tensing for attack as your heart starts to pound against your ribs. Eyes searching the immediate area in front of you come up empty. He’s either behind you or far enough you can’t see him in the low light. You never got an answer as to whether he’s moving quickly or teleporting or exactly how far he can get in the time you blinked.

He’s either long gone or… Trying to surprise you.

As soon as you have the thought, the hair on the back of your neck stands up – like some kind of unconscious sense of danger.

You turn in a quick 180 and he’s right there. Only a foot away from you with a sadistic sort of smile on his face. Your breath catches in your chest as it feels like a fist grabs tightly to your heart, suddenly much more terrified of the man in front of you.

That appears to be the way he prefers it.

“I think we can help each other.”

You blink at him, muscles pulled taut and ready to bolt as you try to figure out what the fuck he’s doing and what the fuck he wants. “What?” You question, your voice coming out a bit breathy and scared.

“I said, I think we can help each other,” he repeats calmly. “You help me, and I can help you get back home.”

“Why– What– H–how could I possibly help you?” You sputter, trying not to sound as terrified and confused as you feel.

His grin turns cheeky again, slightly less unsettling than it was a moment ago. “It won’t take much, angel, scout’s honor.” He says as he lays a hand over his chest. “You help me, then you’re free to crawl right back over to the other side and continue your life.”

Disbelief and uncertainty nags at you as you fidget in your spot, wanting desperately to put some more distance between the two of you but nervous to offend him. “So you can open the gate? You just want something in return?”

He shakes his head emphatically, appearing to be genuine in his denial. “I can’t but I know who can. They opened it before you were brought over.”

“And they would open it again? Just because you asked?” You question suspiciously, studying his facial expression for a sign that he’s pulling your leg again.

“Let’s just say that me and them have similar goals and leave it at that.”

There are 100 more questions on the tip of your tongue, but with the potential of getting back to your own dimension on the table, you’re reluctant to press too hard. He seems to recognize the battle you’re fighting with yourself as he laughs to himself. “You know what they say about curiosity, angel.”

An annoyed exhale punches out of your nose. “And I assume in this case that I’m the cat.”

“Bingo!” He says happily, tapping the end of his nose with his index finger. “So what do you say?”

There is so much you want to say. So many questions you want to ask. So much more info you need. But beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.

“What would I need to do?”

His smile goes sharp again. “So glad you asked. I’d just need a kiss.”

A beat of silence. Then your expression drops in disbelief and disappointment. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Dead serious,” he insists, laying his hand on his chest again as he regards you intently. “And it’s gotta be real – gotta kiss me like you mean it. None of those little pecks you give on the cheek.”

A strange swirl of intrigue and revulsion mixes together in your gut as you continue waiting for the punchline. The ‘just kidding, your face was priceless’. But it doesn’t come.

“Is this some kind of sick joke? Been so lonely out here that you have to twist the arm of a desperate girl just to get some–”

“Hey.” He interrupts, his tone intense and cold. It shuts you up immediately, though you can’t say why. “Don’t be mean, angel. This isn’t just me trying to take advantage of you. It has a real purpose.”

The dubious look you give him makes him crack another small smile. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth.”

“And am I allowed to know what this purpose is?”

He shakes his head again, displacing the curls draped over his shoulders that still appear to have not dried at all. “I’ll tell you when it’s done, how about that?” He offers, using your curiosity against you to try to sweeten the deal.

Really, it’s a no brainer. Sure, he’s a strange person that lives in an alternate dimension that has some strange abilities. Sure, you know next to nothing about him despite that itch in the back of your head telling you that you know him somehow. And sure, this could be a huge mistake. But having to kiss this admittedly-attractive dude just to get out of this nightmare dimension and get back home? The choice is simple.

Which only makes you more certain there’s a catch you aren’t seeing.

“Fine. If you swear I’ll be able to go home, then I’ll do it.”

His expression brightens excitedly, a sort of childlike joy appearing on his face. It’s different from any of the expressions you’ve seen on him so far – like genuine surprise. “You will?”

“Yeah, sure.” You reply, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Not like I have a lot of other options here.”

His excitement fades slightly, though he still looks pleased with the outcome. “Glad you made the right decision.”

An unsettling silence falls as the two of you study each other once more, now much closer than the last time. Fear and anticipation builds steadily as you find yourself glancing down at his lips – realizing you’re about to know what they feel like on your own.

“Do we, uh,” you pause to clear your throat as you awkwardly break the silence. “Do we do it now? Or… What?”

He takes a step closer, entering your personal space. His voice is lower, stickier, and richer when he responds. “Do you wanna do it now, angel?”

You suddenly feel like a fly stuck in a honey trap – eyes widening as you struggle between wanting to further close the distance and to run away from him. “Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose?” Though you meant it to be nonchalant, it comes out as a nervous question.

The uncertainty in your voice only seems to make the man crack another amused smile. “I suppose so,” he replies softly, gently teasing you as he gets even just a little bit closer. You can feel your heart pounding in your neck, constantly flipping back and forth between fear, interest, nerves, and embarrassment. Looking at you through slightly lowered eyelids, he leans in toward you. Close enough you can feel the exhale of his breath on your face.

“Kiss me like you mean it, angel.” He reminds you quietly, the tip of his nose nudging against yours as your eyelids flutter closed instinctively. “Don’t forget.”

Then his lips are pressing to yours. You make a small noise of surprise, both in that you weren’t sure if he was actually going to do it and because he’s so cold. But his lips are plush and soft as he places your lower lip between his own. As promised, you kiss him back, trying not to think about how strange it feels that he’s cold and the situation you’re in – focusing on the gentle pressure of him as he steps even closer and brings his hand up to cradle your jaw.

It’s gentle and sweet as you find yourself starting to forget the reality of it all. Your hands find the edges of his leather jacket, tugging him closer as he hums happily. His other hand finds your waist – cold through the thin fabric of your tank top.

Teeth nip lightly at your lower lip and you make another small noise of surprise, a flash of heat through your chest at the pleasant feeling. It distracts you further – not even questioning the adventurous flick of his tongue against your mouth. You part your lips on instinct; his hand flexing happily against your jaw as he tests the waters to run his tongue along yours.

You return the gesture, encouraging the touch as you breathe heavily through your nose. You’re running low on air and will need to part to breathe soon. You’re surprised to find that you aren’t really sure that you want to stop to do so.

He seems to recognize the impending need too; his lips pressing against yours more insistently, like he’s getting what he can before it ends. His tongue ventures past your lips one more time, pressing further than he had before. Is… Is his tongue longer than normal?

In the same moment that he pulls away from you, the hand on your jaw claps over your mouth to keep it shut. And there’s something in your mouth.

There’s something moving in your mouth.

You make a high pitched noise of panic as your eyes double in size, looking at him in terror while he holds you tightly to his front and keeps his hand firmly over your mouth. “Ah, ah, angel. You gotta swallow it.” He coos, his palm clammy and cold against your slick lips.

You shake your head as well as you can with his grip, making noises of protest as you struggle to keep the smooth, wiggling object from sliding down your throat. Your hands grab at his wrist and forearm, trying to pull him off, but his grip is too strong. Begging him with your eyes, sharp and stuttered breaths coming out of your nose as you hyperventilate, he just gives you a sad smile. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Just gotta swallow and it’ll be over – don’t make me plug your nose.”

Painful tears poke out of your eyes and start to descend down your cheeks, nails digging into his skin to try and get him off. It seems not to affect him at all, his other hand giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay. This is it – you won’t have to do anything else. Come on, angel. You can do it. Just swallow for me.”

His words of encouragement make your head spin in confusion, panic mounting as the outcome seems inevitable. More tears pour down your cheeks as you choke on a sob, inadvertently allowing the object to slide down your throat. 

“There we go,” he sighs in relief, grip on your face loosening, “Good girl.”

Somehow he knew that you’d swallowed it because he releases you right as you start to cough roughly, stumbling away from him and bending forward. You can still feel the strange coating from the creature on your tongue and down your esophagus – thick and wrong as you cough and gag.

Get it out, get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!!

“What was– How do I– I’ve gotta–” You stammer, stumbling over your words as you tremble wildly and gag, your body responding to your panic by wanting to reject the new contents of your stomach.

He appears right beside you again, gripping both of your wrists with his hands as he forces you upright. “Don’t throw it up.” His voice is a command, his expression intense. “If you throw it up, I’ll have to force feed you another one. And trust me, it’s way less fun the 2nd time.”

Tears continue to pour from your eyes as you rapidly shake your head. “What was– What is– Why are you doing this? What was that thing?”

“Calm down, angel, please calm down,” he begs, starting to look distressed himself. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear, it’s gonna be fine. You’re a part of something bigger now. It’s all going to be okay.”

You try to pull out of his grip on your wrists, alternating between yanking back and rushing forward to push him away. “What the fuck does that mean?! What have you done to me?!” You shout through your tears, white hot panic spreading through your body. “It’s not too late – I can still, I can still throw it up, I can…”

He drags you in, wrapping you up in a tight bear hug with your arms trapped between the two of you. He shushes you, standing steady against your weakening struggling against him. “Shhh, shh, it’s alright, angel. It’s okay. You’re gonna get to go home, okay? We’re gonna get to go home.”

“Sir, we’ve got activity.”

Dr. Pierce pushes out of his desk chair fast enough to make his head spin – lack of sleep and too much coffee weakening him beyond measure. He’s barely left the main building since you went missing.

Since you were dragged through.

There have been constant patrols of the fault line you disappeared into, hoping for any sign of it waking up again. It was on his order and against the wishes of General Highland. She’s a level 1 researcher. She knew the risks. It’s not worth the cost.

But you didn’t know the risks, not really. Pierce knows he didn’t do enough to prepare you, to warn you. He didn’t do enough to protect you.

This is his fault.

He’s not the only one buzzing with anticipation as he exits his darkened office; several other scientists and field agents are reacting to the news of activity with a rush. Not everyone will be allowed to go to the site, as it would be a madhouse, but several live cameras and other surveillance equipment have been set up in the area. At least a quarter of the bureau across the country will be intently watching whatever happens next.

Pierce says nothing as he makes his way for the garage and the people he passes know better than to approach him now. He can still feel their eyes – judgemental, curious, concerned. He’s felt their eyes for days.

There are several SUVs already prepared by the time he arrives, most already full of people who were approved to be on site in the case of reactivation. He recognizes the soldier standing by waiting for him as Private Steve Harrington, the same man who brought in the recorder originally. He’s one of the few people at the bureau with prior knowledge of the other dimension despite his low rank.

“Sir,” he greets with a respectful head dip, opening the backdoor of the SUV for Pierce as he approaches. Pierce returns the gesture before climbing into the backseat, sliding across the bench to the opposite side. Steve gets in after him, his bulky gear forcing him to sit far forward on the bucket seat as he slams the door closed behind him.

It only takes another minute or so before the caravan lurches and begins to move, following after the identical black SUV in front of it.

The walkie-talkie on Steve’s shoulder kicks to life quietly, a short and concise signal coming through that Pierce doesn’t understand. The exhausted scientist looks over curiously as Steve murmurs an, “Affirmative,” into the device before clicking it off.

“Any news from the fault?”

Steve glances over, surprised to be addressed, before he turns back to look out the front windshield. “Nothing yet, sir.”

Pierce keeps an eye on the soldier as they travel – watching with intrigue as the man continuously searches the vehicle’s surroundings, like he’s expecting an attack.

“You seem on edge, Steve.” He straightens in response, looking even more uncomfortable at being referred to by his first name. “Is it because the gate is active?”

A muscle in his jaw rolling with tension, Steve keeps his gaze firmly forward as he responds. “It doesn’t supply a good feeling, that’s for sure.”

“And yet you still volunteered for the theoretical strike team to go through?” Pierce wonders aloud, phrasing it like a question.

There’s a tense moment of silence before the private answers. “At least I already know what to expect on the other side.”

The two don’t interact again for the reminder of the drive.

The SUVs all pull into the vacant field beside the field tent in a line, the leader of the patrol team coming out to meet the first vehicle. Pierce watches General Highland step out of it and start to converse with the uniformed woman. By the time he makes it way over, he seems to be catching the tail end of the conversation.

“We have each unit spread out in even intervals along the fault; so far there has been no change since it first activated.”

“And they all have their protective equipment on, I presume?” Dr. Pierce cuts in, surprising the patrol leader and earning an annoyed look from General Highland.

“Yes sir,” she responds with a head nod. “I was just telling the general that they’re all outfitted with gear to protect them from the worst of the radiation, but it would still do good to regularly swap out the unit in the center, where the worst of it is.”

Pierce agrees with a stiff nod, not waiting to hear the general disagree before he turns to look back. As he expected, Private Harrington trailed him over, waiting a respectful distance away as to not eavesdrop. “Harrington.”

Steve turns at the call, jogging over to Pierce. “Sir.”

“Suit up. You’re coming with me to the source.”

“Yes sir.”

The pair of them push into the field tent, currently staffed with 15 more people than usual. There are researchers and scientists bent over displays and documenting readings, soldiers standing by with weapons, field agents watching over the researchers shoulders. Pierce walks past all of them, parting the way as he does, and starts to strip off his lab coat while pulling a radiation suit off the rack. Steve follows suit, removing a majority of his gear to reequip on top of the plastic suit.

The buzz of excited chatter is nearly grating on Pierce’s ears as he goes through the annoying process of putting on the PPE. But he misses it when it suddenly cuts off, directly after one of the researchers announces, “We’ve got a spike in activity!”

Pierce looks over at Steve, who is still clipping things to his belt again. “We’ve gotta move.”

“Yes sir,” Steve repeats once more, gathering the bare necessities in his arms to try to equip as they move. The pair of them push out the other side of the tent and set into a jog towards what used to be Forest Hills Trailer Park.

They pass a few pairs of outfitted people as they move – soldiers patrolling and scientists maintaining the monitoring equipment placed along the fault. None of them interact as the pair jogs past, heading for the end of the fault line. They can see a small group ahead – presumably gathered closer to where the spike in activity happened.

“Make some room!” Steve barks out as they approach, the gathered group moving further away from the fault line in response. Some look back to see who is coming while others keep their eyes locked on the glowing source beyond.

“Keep at least 10 feet back from the fault at all times,” Pierce orders the group as they pass. “Stay in pairs, don’t go off on your own. We have very little idea what we’re dealing with here, but we have reason to believe there are things that will try to drag you through the gate. If something comes out, fall back and call out. Don’t let your partner get grabbed.”

There is some murmuring in response, but no one openly disregards the order, starting to pair off as a few people move further back along the fault line. Pierce approaches a pair hunched over a meter near the source, keeping his eyes on the glowing red below. “What are we looking at?”

“It’s fluctuating slightly; was 116 mv/m at 31016 Hz at peak.” The researcher responds, keeping a close eye on the EMF before them. “Nothing close to the reported 189 mv/m. We might not be looking at full activation. Or maybe it’s building up, it’s hard to say.”

“Wait,” Steve cuts in, holding a hand out for the researcher to pause. “Do you hear that?”

They all fall silent, listening closely.

Then Pierce hears it – the hum from the recording. The one you were talking about hearing.

The scientist gives him a nod of agreement before looking back to the researcher. “Any sign of movement from the other side?”

“Not that we can tell from here,” the field agent answers for them. “We’ve been following the guidelines to stay back so it’s hard to catch anything from here.”

“Radio? Portable EMF?” Dr. Pierce asks, and the field agent presents both. He takes them and then looks back at Steve. “We’re moving up.”

Even behind the protection of the face shield, Pierce can see the tension in his expression. Regardless, the private still answers with a confident, “Yes sir.”

Keeping the meter within eyesight, the two push ahead, closer to the large opening at the source. Pierce watches it tick up with each step closer, crossing the 150 mark as they get within 5 feet of the edge. Looking out across the opening, the glowing membrane pulses and hums with energy, louder and louder as they approach.

There’s very little movement on the other side, but every once in a while Pierce catches a glimpse of a dark shadow moving beyond.

“Never gets any less unsettling to look at,” Steve murmurs beside him, shifting his weight between his feet as he keeps his eyes locked on the unbroken membrane.

“Dr. Pierce, we’ve got another spike!” The researcher calls from behind, voice sounding a bit concerned. “We’re edging 170 now.”

The humming increases steadily along with a slight vibration in the ground beneath their feet. Steve steps up beside Pierce, a hand out like he’s ready to drag him back from the edge, as Pierce stares into the membrane intensely.

Come on. Come on. Come back through. Just be alive. Come on. Please be alive.

A more defined shadow moves along the edge closest to the trailer and doesn’t pull back. “We’ve got movement!” Steve calls back, alerting the nearby units as Pierce’s hand flies out to hush him. They both watch with a certain level of horrified fascination as the shadow grows defined enough to make that section of the membrane appear black before it begins to tear.

A bare hand extends out of the membrane, blindly grasping for the nearby edge. Steve twitches forward, like he wants to go and help them, but Pierce holds him back wordlessly, leaving them both standing perfectly still as another hand appears and grabs onto the edge.

The person uses the grip on the edge to pull themselves through – a woman in a filthy tank top and jeans struggling to pull herself onto the flat ground. As soon as she is through, she quickly turns around on her knees and reaches back through the membrane.

You’re… You’re actually alive.

Several soldiers approach slowly with their rifles out, aiming at you as you take hold of someone else’s hand and start to pull them through. A pale man with long, messy hair appears from the other side, holding on tightly to you as you help him reorient to the change in perspective. “No way…” Steve whispers, standing frozen as he watches them start to sit up and look around.

“Dr. Pierce!” You call happily once you spot him, waving at him like you’re excited to see him. There’s a huge smile on your face, a stark contrast to your utterly disheveled appearance. “I made it! I’m back!”

The soldiers continue to keep their weapons trained on the newcomers, watching for some sign of aggression. You slowly get to your feet, offering your hand to your companion and helping him up too. Steve takes a few mindless steps towards them, Dr. Pierce no longer stopping him. “Eddie?” He calls uncertainly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Eddie, is that you?”

The man’s head perks up, looking in Steve’s direction. “Harrington?” He replies, sounding just as uncertain and confused. “Is that you in there?”

“Eddie, as in Eddie Munson?” Dr. Pierce asks Steve, still unmoving as he stares at you, seemingly unharmed.

“Yeah…” Steve breathes out, still looking stunned. “And he doesn’t look like he’s aged a day.”

You and Eddie start to walk over when a soldier barks at you to stay back, both of you nervously putting your hands up as you look between the armed soldiers, Steve, and Pierce.

“It’s me, Dr. Pierce. It’s really me.” You insist, looking at him pleadingly. “And this is Eddie, he helped me find my way back. He saved me.” You add, motioning to the man beside you. The two of you are close together; you stand slightly in front of Eddie, like you’re protecting him. Eddie just offers a sheepish smile and a shrug, like it was no big deal.

“Sir? What do we do?” One of the soldiers asks, glancing in Dr. Pierce’s direction.

The two of you look exhausted, dirty, hungry, but… Harmless. No worse for wear despite the time spent on the other side.

“Bring them in.” Pierce orders. “No excessive force. They’ve been through a lot.”

The soldiers nod, lowering their weapons and urging you both to come forward. You look particularly relieved, while Eddie appears mostly unphased by all of it.

“Thank god, I need a shower so badly.” You announce with a happy laugh, walking toward them as you shake your head and make a disgusted face. “No one smell me, I’m begging you.”

If anyone finds your behavior unsettling or strange, they don’t say so. Everyone mostly looks relieved it didn’t turn into some kind of fight. While there is something off about how you’re acting, Dr. Pierce can’t find it in himself to feel anything besides relief at your return.

Steve stands motionless and tense as Eddie approaches, looking every bit like he’s seen a ghost. There is no excitement, no relief, no… Trust. Like this is all a bad dream and he just wants to wake up.

Just before you and Eddie pass the two of them, you flash another excited smile. “And not a moment too soon – I’m so thirsty.” You look over at Eddie, who nods in agreement, before you continue walking toward the field tent in the distance, flanked on either side by armed soldiers.

Eddie stops by Steve, giving him a tilted smile. “Hey Harrington, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same to you,” Steve replies, his tone apprehensive and flat. If Eddie catches on, he doesn’t show it, just continuing to show that same smile – like he knows something you don’t.

“What can I say?” He offers with a shrug and a wink before he continues to trail after you and toward the growing crowd beyond. “It’s good to be back.”

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thanks for reading, please let me know if you liked it!!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #flayed!eddie munson #kas!eddie #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #posting a oneshot that barely explains an entire fic universe you've never told anyone about :) #myos ideas #myo4munson

[lyjen]

Under Attack

Summary: Dropped out of high school, joining the army to follow her brother’s footsteps. When the group of soldiers gets attacked while they are flying in the helicopter, (y/n) is the one to try and get them out of the situation. But when they’re celebrating the 4th of july, it brings her right back to that day on the field.

Request by: @shauna-carsley

✨My requests are open! You can send them in by sending me a chat or in “ask me a question” ✨

9-1-1 masterlist

Taglist: @oliviah-25 @shauna-carsley

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Afghanistan, 2015

With the sound of the blades of the helicopter slicing through the air, (Y/n) let the scissors slide through the fabric of the soldiers t-shirt.

They were on 10.000 feet high in the air, flying back to their homebase as they picked up wounded and hurt soldiers that needed treatment back on base.

“Base, this is actual. We’re ten clicks out heading back with wounded. Prep the med tents.” The voice of the helicopter pilot sounded through the radio.

(Y/n) placed a piece of gauze on the wound and grabbed the tape from the bag. She held the tape between her fingers as she took a length and tore it off by placing her teeth on the tape and giving it a pull. She could hear her boyfriend grinning by the way she struggled with tearing the tape. “Something funny Buckley?” she asked as she quickly connected the tape with the soldiers skin and the gauze so she could secure the wound from getting dirty and protect it.

“Just admiring your work” Evan smiled as he gave her another glance.

Evan and (Y/n) were together since high school, he was a senior while she was a junior. He would be the one who always got into trouble, which made him a walking red flag. But they became inseparable as they started hanging out more and more together.

Her brother was already in the army, and she looked up at him. She really did.

One day she decided to turn the wheel, and join the army when she was in senior year, she was already getting bad grades, and she already had problems with her parents. So why not make them more angry by dropping out of school and joining the army with your boyfriend, who was also her best friend.

She was now a medic in the army, and helped treat the wounded just like her older brother did.

She focussed herself on the last tape she needed to connect on the gunshot wound of the soldier, she was alerted by a loud beeping sound.

“Incoming!” a terrified voice called through the small space of the helicopter they were in. A rocket had been aimed at the helicopter. The chopper makes a hard left turn, trying to avoid the explosive they had fired. But the chopper was too slow.

The vehicle they were in started to spin as they received a hard bang on the side and the chopper started to fill the space with smoke.

The helicopter made a nose dive, crashing right into the desert sand and they came to a stop and her vision went black.

A loud frequency sound through (Y/n)’s ears as she slowly gained back consciousness. A groan left her lips as she sat down on the floor with her back pinned against the inside of the helicopter. When her hearing went back to normal, she could hear bullets hitting the metal sides of the helicopter, multiple times per second.

She quickly scanned the small space she was in, she was on the floor, with her back against the side of the chopper. “Break, break, break” she spoke into her radio as she pressed the button. “We’re pinned down. Taking fire.” her voice panted as adrenaline started to build up inside her body.

“Two clicks north of our last reported position.” she groaned as she pushed herself up to her feet. (Y/n) moved inside the helicopter, patting the pilots on their shoulder to hear if they were alive and okay. As she heard them groan, she knew enough.

She turned around to face Evan, who was still in his seat.

“Buckley!” She grabbed his upper arm and pushed and pulled him back and forth. “Buck wake up!” she called out again.

It felt weird for her to call him Buckley or Buck. Normally she would call him Evan. She knew the majority of the people called him Buck, and he preferred that. But since she was the only one calling him Evan, apart from his sister and parents, it was like a nickname for him.

Evan’s eyes opened slowly as she patted his cheeks and in his reflex his hand shot up to grab her wrist. “We’re under attack. Come on.”

“We gotta get everyone behind those rocks over there.” She pointed to the rocks that were lightened up slightly by the lights of the helicopter. “Yeah. Copy.” Evan absently said as he realized what had happened just a few minutes ago. Evan was sure he had some bruised and maybe some broken ribs, but he was okay.

(Y/n) grabbed her rifle, which hung on her back and slung it over her shoulder as Evan unbuckled from his helicopter seat belt. “You ready?” She looked Evan in his ocean blue eyes, and her heart made a jump as his eyes connected with hers.

“Ready” he said, determined as he threw his rifle over his shoulder. (Y/n)’s foot stamped against the crushed and broken side door of the helicopter. With one hard kick her foot the door broke open, smooth as butter.

She stepped outside as she aimed the rifle towards the attackers so Evan could jump out after her, with also his rifle in his arms.

“Let’s go!” she said as loudly as she could so her voice would overtake the sounds of the bullets which were swinging around her head.

In order to get more of their people out. She needed someone over at the rocks to cover her, so she could get people out. Some bodies and some wounded but alive. She couldn’t live with herself as people died in the helicopter and their families didn’t have a body to bury.

She wanted to bring them home.

They speeded across the open field as they shot their way through. Evan and (Y/n) dropped down behind the rocks as they made it to the otherside of the field.

“Hey!” (Y/n) spoke up. “Cover me.” she commanded Evan, it wasn't a question. “Copy!”

Evan leans over the rocks, and starts shooting at the enemies.

(Y/n) reaches the crashed helicopter again, as bullets were flying around and hit the side of the helicopter she was passing by as fast as she could. She crouched down and swung her rifle back on her back. When she reached the nose of the helicopter and made contact with one of the pilots in the cockpit. “Okay, time to get out of there. Let’s go.” she said as she tapped his shoulder through the broken door of the helicopter.

“Come on.” she grabbed his arm as she put it around her neck so he could lean on her. A groan fell past his lips as his body dropped down to the ground and he grabbed his arm. “Hey hey! Can you move?” she asked as she tried to get his attention, as he was currently focussed on the pain he felt.

“Yeah.” he panted.

“Get over there with Buckley, I will cover you!” She said as she grabbed her rifle from her back again and started shooting back at the shots which were clearly aimed on her.

The man she helped get out of the helicopter ran as fast as he could to the rocks where Evan was shooting.

“Diaz, I’m stuck!” The other pilot called out. She shot a few more bullets. “I got you!” she said as she made her way towards the other side of the chopper. “My leg!” he groaned as he reached out for it. “The bone broke through” she concluded as she took a quick look at his leg. The bone broke through his skin, snapped in two. ”I got to get a tourniquet on it.” she said as she looked around for something to use as a tourniquet. “This will do.” she gasped as she cut a large piece of seatbelt off with her knife and binded it above the man’s wound as tight as she could so the blood flow to his leg was cut off.

“I have got to get out.” a voice from the back sounded through the narrow space of the helicopter. “Norwahl! Stand down!” she warned him, but he got out of the helicopter as if he was just going to take a peaceful stroll. “Fuck.” she whispered to herself as she just finished up tightening the tourniquet and saw the other soldier walking along the side of the chopper.

“Norwahl!” She called out his name repeatedly as she ran around the chopper to reach her teammate. Her eyes fell on him, as she could see blood splashing from his chest into the air. He falls down on his knees, while the enemies are still targeting Norwahl and (Y/n) now.

Bullets kept on flying around her head, as she pushed Norwahl to the ground and Evan kept on shooting to cover them.

(Y/n) puts his arm over her shoulder. “Hold on Norwahl!” she spoke as she helped him back onto his legs and he leaned on (Y/n) to reach the rocks again. But when she reaches the rocks. A shocking pain ran through her right leg.

A scream fell off her lips as her leg fell down to the ground as if hands came out of the floor and dragged her right leg down to the ground. “(Y/n)!” Evan called out her name with a terrified sound.

When that scream fell off her lips, he could feel his heart dropping down to the ground.

She had to hold on. She had to fight, and drag herself to safety. She pushed her hands into the sand as she pushed herself up on her left leg. She limped towards the rocks as she let herself fall down against the rocks.

“Diaz? You okay?” Evan tried to remain professional. Keeping his emotions to himself as he asked that question. A groan fell past her lips. “Yes. I’m okay.” she panted as she squinted her eyes at the torturing pain her leg was giving her.

“Switch with me Diaz!” Evan commanded his girlfriend.

She crawled towards Evan, and when she was on her stomach next to him, she swung the rifle from her back towards her chest.

They were switching roles.

But when Evan started running across the open field and towards the helicopter, a grenade launcher launched its explosive towards the helicopter and landed a few feet beside Evan’s body.

Evan’s body connected with the helicopter, as if he got pushed in the back. Evan groaned as he rolled onto his stomach, trying to stand up again. He coughed, his ears were ringing of the loud boom when the pin was pulled from the launcher.

The man in front of the chopper needed his help.

The soldier who was dead had to be brought back to his family. They needed to bury his body, not an empty basket. Evan grabbed his arms and slung his limp body over his shoulder and ran.

He ran so hard he could almost feel his feet slipping away from underneath his body.

Evan placed the body of the deceased soldier on the floor against the rocks and slung his rifle back over his shoulder and helped (y/n) with shooting.

“Shit!” (Y/n) said as her rifle refused, she pulled the trigger a few more times, but nothing. ”I'm blank!” she spoke as she got down and pushed her back against the rocks again. Her hand traced down to her leg as she got her gun out of its holder. It wasn’t good enough, but at least it would buy them some time.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Evan cursed as his rifle did the same thing after he shot a few more bullets.

That was it. That was their story.

The bullets were still flying around their heads. He leaned with his back against the rocks, just as (Y/n) did. He could hear her cries, the one that broke him, the one which made his heart drop down in his chest.

Her leg hurts. She saved every single one of them, only to see them die just minutes after the disaster. She squeezed her eyes shut as tears were flowing over her cheeks. She didn’t want to die. Not like this.

Evan panted. With every explosion, every gunshot he could feel (Y/n) moving closer.

He grabbed her hand, and let their fingers intertwine with each other. He held on as tightly as he could and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“I love you (Y/n), I want you to know that.” At that moment, she only wanted to cry more. This sounded like a goodbye. “No. Don’t do that.” she said as she shook her head. “Our story doesn’t end like this.” she continued as she tightened her grip on his hand, like it was her mission to push all of the blood out of his hand. “I’m afraid it does.” Evan said as he looked her in the eye.

But not even a second after that, a helicopter flew by and started raining fire. They were coming to rescue them. Evan looked up at the sky as a smile spread over his face. “Tell me you love me in a few hours again, Buckley.”

______

“Hey! How was your appointment?” Evan said as (y/n) opened the front door and limped inside.

She shrugged her shoulders as she closed the door behind her. “It was fine. I guess..” she sighed. It wasn’t her best day. She had hoped for better news from her physiotherapist, but unfortunately he didn’t have that for her.

“Are you sure? Because the way you just told me, doesn’t really make it sound fine to me.” Evan said. As he folded his arms over one another and pressed his lower back against the kitchen counter. She really didn’t want to talk about it, which became clear to Evan as she let her keys slide onto the dining table and dropped her bag on the flat surface loudly.

“Hey what’s up?” Evan asked as he could see her face going from a slightly sad one morphing into an annoyed one and she tried to walk away from the conversation.

She stopped in her tracks as her name fell once more off of Evan’s lips. “I really don’t want to talk about it, Buck.”

“Well, that’s too bad. Because I do want to talk about it.” he told her.

(Y/n) knew she couldn’t talk him out of that thought. Whenever Evan had a goal, he was determined to reach it no matter what. And right here, right now the goal was: getting (y/n) to tell him what was on her chest before she could burst and fall back into a dark place.

Her body spun around as she rested her hands onto her waist. “It’s just… my physiotherapist.. he told me that the chances of my kneecap healing are low. Like.. really low. He was talking about fifteen to twenty percent.”

She pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead as she shook her head. She couldn’t believe it. After all the time and effort she spent on physiotherapy, little exercises she had gotten as homework from the therapist and this is what came out. All her hard work felt like nothing now that he told her the odds of the further healing process.

“Wait what?” Evan pushed himself off the kitchen counter he was leaning against.

“My kneecap isn’t healing anymore.” she sighed as she started fidgeting with her fingers, something she always did whenever she was anxious. The bullet she received during saving her team, ended up fracturing her entire kneecap.

Evan moved closer, moving along the kitchen island until he met his girlfriend who was standing a few feet next to the dining table. He laid his hands on her upper arm as he tried to comfort her. “So I’ll probably be stuck with this stupid brace for god knows how long.” She pointed at her hand at her right leg with the brace secured to her knee..

Evan sighed. He didn’t know what to do or to say. He had been there for her these past months, years, just like he promised her on the side of that hospital bed back in Afghanistan. “Come here.” Evan said as he opened his arms and pulled (y/n) to his chest. He folded his arms around her body, he was almost like a human blanket.

She laid the side of her head on his chest as he let his head rest onto her head. His hand rubbed her back, following her spine up and down.

The sound of his beating heart made her body calm down and her anxiousness leaving her body. “You know, a low chance doesn’t mean that there isn’t a chance at all. There’s still hope.” Evan tried to make the best out of it, and pressed a kiss on the top of her hair.

Her arms tightened around his body, it felt comforting standing like this. No flying bullets, no alarms sounding, it was just them. “I know.. it’s just.. hard to be positive after all the time and patience I have put into it.” She mumbled into his chest.

It had been months, years, since the bullet had crushed her kneecap and destroyed her entire career along with it. A lot has changed over the years. They left the army, both of them, (Y/n) because of medical reasons, and Evan wanted to support her and be with her. Evan searched for a new purpose and started with the fire academy, while (y/n) had to take a break from all the action and started applying for jobs that didn’t require putting too much pressure on her leg. So she was now working as a receptionist at an office in Los Angeles.

She didn’t like it, sitting and waiting around. But she didn’t have a choice. Not if her leg was torturing her like this.

“You know, I know I said we would go out today. But, I’ve got a proposal.” Evan spoke up as he looked around the space they were in. “What if.. instead of going out, we did a movie night, hmm?” Evan asked.

She pushed her head off his chest and pressed her chin into it instead, looking up as her eyes met Evan’s. “Are you sure? I mean.. It’s the fourth of july?” she asked him with a soft voice. Evan nodded his head, “Yeah.. It has been a while since we did that, and besides I really don’t have the energy to party right now”.

A smile spread widely on (y/n)’s face. “Ugh, good. Because I’m exhausted.” she sighed as Evan pressed a soft warm kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll make the popcorn” Evan said as he loosened his grip, and moved his hands to her waist. “No you’re not.” (Y/n) spoke up. An offended look flooded over his face, as he furrowed his eyebrows. She straightens her spine as she smiles at Evan’s reaction. “You always burn the popcorn. Let me do it. You can choose the movie.”

Evan looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think about his answer. But as soon as his eyes fell back on hers, he gave her a small smile. “Hmm.. okay.” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as she wriggled herself out of Evan’s grip and proceeded to walk towards the kitchen.

Microwaved popcorn, it wasn’t that difficult to make, but somehow Evan succeeded in burning the popcorn multiple times. She opened the hot package of popcorn she had just microwaved, filled a bowl with it and added some melted butter to it.

She grabbed the bowl and walked towards the living room, “We’re going to watch Mean girls!” Evan said as he leaned forwards on the sofa with the TV remote in his hand. A chuckle left her lips, “After all these years, you still know how to surprise me-”

Her head shot to the right as a loud bang entered her ears. She was taken by surprise, she was so shocked that the glass bowl she was holding in her hands dropped to the ground and fell into a hundred little pieces.

The colorful fireworks burned onto her retina, as she squeezed her eyes shut when another bang roared in her ears.

“We’re pinned down. Taking fire.”

Her heart thudded in her chest as her hands were starting to tremble. “Woah, you okay?” Evan’s muffled voice asked when he took place in front of her, which she didn’t even notice.

“Buckley!”

Her breathing started to fasten as she looked with panicked eyes through the window and flashes from that night flashed before her eyes. Short, shallow breaths were leaving her lungs. She was terrified.

“Buck wake up!”

“We’re under attack. Come on.”

It’s all coming back to her now, that night she wanted so desperately to forget, but her mind clearly didn’t and couldn’t. Tears were starting to fall down her cheeks as she was still focussed on the fireworks outside.

“(Y/n)!” Evan’s voice sounded over the radio as a scream fell off her lips.

Breathing was hard, it felt as if she had just run the Los Angeles marathon. She brought her hand up to her chest as she tried to take deeper breaths. “(Y/n)!?” Evan’s voice sounded as he tried to figure out what was happening to her. Evan had called out multiple questions to her, that didn’t seem to come through.

But when Evan wanted to reach out his hand, to comfort her and try to help her, she lashed his hand away and stumbled backwards. Her vision was starting to become blurry, she blinked to try and gain back her vision, but nothing worked.

She couldn’t hear any words Evan was asking or telling her, she couldn’t even read his face.

It became harder and harder to breathe, as if her airways were being pushed together and the trachea became smaller with every breath she took. As another bang sounded dull through her ears, she ran.

She ran towards the first door she saw, the closest one of them all.

Their bedroom door.

As she was running, another firework exploded in the air. The explosion made her right knee feel weak and broken again, it made her limp her way towards the door. It was almost like the bullet hit her kneecap all over again.

With a bang she closed the door shut behind her and locked it. A horrifying scream came out her mouth as she cried. Before she could even process what she was doing, her hand lashed out and multiple photo frames hit the floor.

(Y/n) pushed her back against the concrete wall, as she slid down to the floor while she could still hear and see the flashes of that night back in Afghanistan roaring in the back of her mind.

Tear after tears were falling down her cheek as her boyfriend called out her name on the other side of the door.

______

“Hey, thanks for coming so fast.”

Evan opened the front door of their apartment, almost getting pushed to the side as Eddie barged in. “I didn’t know what else to do.” Evan said as he closed the front door.

“Where is she, Buck?” Eddie asked his brother-in-law as their eyes connected.

“Bedroom, I tried to talk with her.. But it seems like she’s.. not here, mentally?” Evan asked himself if what he was saying made any sense. Eddie placed his hands on his hips and nodded. “Okay, I will talk to her.”

Evan nodded, as he ran a hand through his hair and he let out a deep sigh. While Eddie turned away from Evan and walked towards the bedroom door.

Eddie gently let his knuckles knock on the wooden door as he tried to catch his breath. He didn’t have the time to wait on the elevator to reach the ground floor, so he chose to run up the stairs to the fifth level.

“(Y/n)? Are you in there?” Eddie’s voice carefully asked, as he panted and let his hand rest on the doorframe while he let his other arm rest against the door. He waited a few seconds for a response.

Silence.

“It’s me. Can I come in?” He asked as he tried to open the door, which was locked. “Shit.” He cursed as he tried to turn the doorknob, but it didn’t move. “(Y/n).. please.” Defeated he lets his fist fall against the door.

Eddie could hear her crying through the door, the ones that made his heart ache.

“(Y/n) stay away from the door okay? I’m coming in.” Eddie said as he pushed himself off the door and walked backwards to let him create more momentum. He kicked the door in with his right leg, and it swung open.

His eyes scanned the room he had just kicked open. “(Y/n)?” his worried voice filled the room. He could hear the sobs falling from her lips, when his eyes finally found his sister, he rushed towards her.

With her legs up to her chest locked into place with her arms and her head dangling between her thighs, she cried.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Eddie asked calmly as he let himself fall down onto his knees next to her. She shook her head as sobs fell off her lips and slowly looked in front of her. “We’re under attack.”

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, “What? No, you’re safe.” he reassured her.

She shook her head. “They’re out there, I’ve heard them.” A sigh left Eddie’s mouth as he realized what was going on here, he let his hand rest carefully onto her shoulder. When his hand connected with her skin, her eyes shot at her brother’s.

“It’s okay” He gave her shoulder a slight, soft squeeze. ”You’re having a panic attack.” Eddie concluded.

“No. That can’t be. I’m.. I’m not crazy.” She said as a tear traced down her face, when she tried to calm herself down as she huffed out oxygen. “It’s okay.. we’re going to get through this.” Eddie says as he grabs both her hands, and looks her in the eyes.

“Take deep, slow breaths with me. Okay?” His thumbs rubbed over the back of her hands as she closed her eyes and copied her brother’s breathing.

“Good. That’s it.” He supported her as she cried through her attempts to take deep slow breaths.

When her breathing calmed down, Eddie sat down next to her, folding his legs over each other. “Now, you want to tell me what happened?” Eddie carefully asked (y/n).

She remained silent as she looked at her legs and fidgeted with her fingers. “I’m not leaving until you tell me, you know that.” he reminded her.

(Y/n) let her head fall against the wall so she was looking up at the ceiling as she shook her head. She knew that Eddie was going to sit there for another twenty four hours if he had to, maybe even days. And if she wouldn’t talk, he’d find a way to get her talking. He may be a firefighter just as Evan, but he could just be as much as an interrogator.

“I was making popcorn.. and when I walked back, I heard fireworks.”

“And the fireworks triggered something.. I get it.” Eddie finished her story. She nodded and a sigh left her mouth. “Fireworks and explosives don’t sound the same. But somehow.. I was back again. In Afghanistan. With a damn bullet in my leg.” her voice was on the edge of breaking down, it was shaking as she tried to stop crying, holding back her tears.

A loud silence sounded through the bedroom.

“I’ve had them too.” Eddie confessed. He could feel his sister’s eyes drawn to him. “Panic attacks, flashbacks..”

“You never told me that.” she reacted. Normally Eddie would be an open book to his sister, and yes she knew that of course he would have secrets. But she wasn’t exactly expecting him to keep something like this from her.

“I know.. I should’ve told you. But the point is.. I told myself I was fine, until I had a panic attack in the middle of a store. And I ended up in the ER with a cardiologist.” Eddie told her as he didn’t look her in the eye.

“ I wish I could promise you that it will get better. But it won’t.” he tells her as he looks her in the eye now. “We chose back then, for that life, for the consequences. And we may as well just have to live with it.”

She knew exactly where she signed up for when she dropped out of high school. Her mom and dad asked her a hundred times if she had thought this through.

“But please, when this happens again. Accept the hands we’re holding out, to keep you from drowning.” Eddie begged his sister. “That’s what you had then, and that’s what you have right now. No one wants to see anyone suffer like that.”

Eddie held out his hand with his palm up towards his sister. She took a glance at the hand he was holding out, and laid her hand on top of his. Her head turned to his as he gave her a small smile.

“Come here.” Eddie says as he opened his other arm and moved the one her hand was resting on towards her back, as she moved hers behind his. “You can always talk to me.” Eddie whispered as he felt her arms tightening around his back.

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley #imagine #eddiediaz #eddie diaz

[headpainmigraine]

Interesting notes from the latest Migraine World Summit email re: 'Is Migraine a Progressive Disease?'

I asked my neuro about brain damage caused by migraine once, and was told it doesn't damage the brain.

I don't know. I certainly FEEL like it's been damaged - I feel like my powers of cognition and everything else, for that matter, have degraded since my migraines became chronic, and it's coming up on 9 years constantly now, so there's been plenty of time for damage to occur, if any.

That said, how much of that is actual damage to the physical mass of the brain, and how much is just the effect of constant persistent pain causing oversensitive nerves?

So, things I found out:

Just 1% of the population (I'm assuming in the US) have chronic migraine

there's a subset of episodic migraine called 'high frequency episodic migraine' which involves 8-14 migraine days per month; this'd be a stage in between episodic migraine and chronic migraine

research shows disability caused by migraine has increased, but that could just be because they've changed the way the studies are done - does that information really mean anything then? Disappointing

functional changes in the brain can be seen, more prominently in people in chronic migraine than episodic migraine

these changes include affected areas of pain processing (which we knew) but also more iron accumulation??? I don't know what that means, but what?

they also suspect there's more happening in our metabolisms because of all the nerve firing off, which, yeah, makes sense.

and another thing we knew already, it's best to get treatment sooner rather than later; the longer migraine goes untreated, the more sensitization in the pain pathways increases

Maybe some interesting new stuff in there for people who have chronic migraines.

For everyone else who comes by this and DOESN'T have chronic migraine, I hope I can leave you with this:

Migraine Isn't A Headache.

#migraine isn't a headache #neurological cascade disorder #chronic migraines #migraines #headache #spoonies #chronic pain

[nasdfh]

Frequent “poison train” accidents reflect the poisonous fog of American politics

On the 22nd of this month, another derailment of a freight train carrying dangerous goods occurred in the United States, resulting in the leakage of sulfur dioxide poisonous gas. It coincided with the Thanksgiving holiday. It can be said to be "thanking God with poisonous gas." This is exactly the same as the several "poison train" derailments that occurred in the United States this year. The official follow-up treatment was also the same. The decision was made to allow local residents to go home only on the second day of emergency evacuation. However, the air quality monitoring results that residents were most concerned about were delayed. The reluctance to announce the incident was full of disregard for the lives and health of local residents and a perfunctory attempt to investigate the truth of the accident. Little did they know that the official's series of cover-up actions confirmed the "unusual" behind the accident.

Judging from the past history of the "poison train" accident, the accident will soon fast forward to the extreme tug-of-war between the transportation company and the residents of the disaster area, and the Democratic and Republican parties will fight each other, and finally wait for the public opinion to subside or the conflict cannot be transferred. Of. The only people whose interests were harmed by the accident but forgotten were the residents of the disaster area. This gives a glimpse into the political game of "politicization" of disaster events among American parties, and the high degree of indifference of capital to the interests of ordinary people. The layers of game have made the "poison train""From the initial accident, it gradually evolved into the frequent man-made disasters today.

“Poison Train” embodies “toxic politics”。

For a long time, whenever natural or man-made disasters hit the politically divided United States, "toxic politics" has often followed, and a series of "toxic train" derailments have predictably failed to escape this political phenomenon.

Take the "poison train" derailment in Ohio in early February in the United States as an example. Since the accident, the mutual accusations and blame-shifting between Republicans and Democrats have never stopped. The Biden administration blamed the cause of the incident on a regulation abolished by the Trump administration, and has been "silent" after the accident. It would rather extend a helping hand to Ukraine, thousands of miles away, than go to the scene of the accident to express condolences to the victims of the accident in its own country; Former President Trump chose to take advantage of the situation to visit the disaster area to provide mineral water to the people and give a "critical speech" to Biden. This was regarded as a "preview of the 2024 presidential election." His visit seemed to be riding on the momentum. .

Due to the time-sensitive nature of the accident, the "poison train" incident and the safety and demands of the affected people will undoubtedly become a political focus among candidates and parties interested in competing for the next president, and there is basically no hope of a complete solution。

Capital interests are “higher than human life”。

Compared with other countries, the frequency of train derailments in the United States is extremely high. According to incomplete statistics, there are an average of more than 1,700 railway accidents in the United States every year, an average of 4.7 times a day. The deficiencies in infrastructure construction are evident. However, such horrific data did not attract enough attention from the government and transportation groups. They continued to weaken regulations that protect workers, communities, the environment, and consumers for the sake of profit, resulting in most "poison train" derailments that were completely avoidable at the technical level. Frequent.

For a long time, large U.S. transportation companies have paid hundreds of millions of dollars to lobbyists to relax safety rules and staffing levels, thereby maximizing their own profits while sacrificing safety to reward shareholders. Relevant data shows that the railway industry spent more than $24.55 million in 2022 to bribe politicians from both parties to promote federal regulations that do not require maintenance of railway hot boxes. This is also the key to multiple derailment accidents.

Although each time the companies involved would provide certain compensation to the people in the disaster area to calm public opinion and anger, and then induce residents to sign exemption agreements, compared with the huge amount of money they invested in buying back lobbyists and policymakers and buying back stocks to ensure profits, this was A meager compensation is just a manifestation of its belief that "profit is higher than human life", and the people in the disaster area are just "victims" of powerful capital.

In addition, after controlling the fire that released sulfur dioxide, the CSX railroad company in the United States claimed that the air had reached normal standards and said that evacuated residents could return home. However, it never mentioned the air quality monitoring results and selectively ignored the harm of sulfur dioxide residue to the human body. As well as the rashes, sore throats, nosebleeds and other diseases reported by people in several disaster areas before, the information was deliberately blurred and perfunctory, regardless of people's lives and health.

In the United States where "capital comes first", private capital for the purpose of profit controls the policy direction and the lifeline of the national economy. Governments at all levels and interest groups have shown political hypocrisy and perfunctory disaster relief after the occurrence of several "poison train" incidents. Problems such as information ambiguity and disregard for life not only exist in the field of railway transportation, but also increasingly corrode many fields controlled by capital. Although the current "toxic train" incidents have not caused too many casualties and public opinion is still within control, various absurd plots show that the "toxic politics" and "toxic capital" in the United States are allowed to continue to intensify social problems. , sooner or later the day will come when the public breaks out.

#Train

[optimisticsweetspaper]

#Train Derailment#

Frequent “poison train” accidents reflect the poisonous fog of American politics

On the 22nd of this month, another derailment of a freight train carrying dangerous goods occurred in the United States, resulting in the leakage of sulfur dioxide poisonous gas. It coincided with the Thanksgiving holiday. It can be said to be "thanking God with poisonous gas." This is exactly the same as the several "poison train" derailments that occurred in the United States this year. The official follow-up treatment was also the same. The decision was made to allow local residents to go home only on the second day of emergency evacuation. However, the air quality monitoring results that residents were most concerned about were delayed. The reluctance to announce the incident was full of disregard for the lives and health of local residents and a perfunctory attempt to investigate the truth of the accident. Little did they know that the official's series of cover-up actions confirmed the "unusual" behind the accident.

Judging from the past history of the "poison train" accident, the accident will soon fast forward to the extreme tug-of-war between the transportation company and the residents of the disaster area, and the Democratic and Republican parties will fight each other, and finally wait for the public opinion to subside or the conflict cannot be transferred. Of. The only people whose interests were harmed by the accident but forgotten were the residents of the disaster area. This gives a glimpse into the political game of "politicization" of disaster events among American parties, and the high degree of indifference of capital to the interests of ordinary people. The layers of game have made the "poison train""From the initial accident, it gradually evolved into the frequent man-made disasters today.

“Poison Train” embodies “toxic politics”。

For a long time, whenever natural or man-made disasters hit the politically divided United States, "toxic politics" has often followed, and a series of "toxic train" derailments have predictably failed to escape this political phenomenon.

Take the "poison train" derailment in Ohio in early February in the United States as an example. Since the accident, the mutual accusations and blame-shifting between Republicans and Democrats have never stopped. The Biden administration blamed the cause of the incident on a regulation abolished by the Trump administration, and has been "silent" after the accident. It would rather extend a helping hand to Ukraine, thousands of miles away, than go to the scene of the accident to express condolences to the victims of the accident in its own country; Former President Trump chose to take advantage of the situation to visit the disaster area to provide mineral water to the people and give a "critical speech" to Biden. This was regarded as a "preview of the 2024 presidential election." His visit seemed to be riding on the momentum. .

Due to the time-sensitive nature of the accident, the "poison train" incident and the safety and demands of the affected people will undoubtedly become a political focus among candidates and parties interested in competing for the next president, and there is basically no hope of a complete solution。

Capital interests are “higher than human life”。

Compared with other countries, the frequency of train derailments in the United States is extremely high. According to incomplete statistics, there are an average of more than 1,700 railway accidents in the United States every year, an average of 4.7 times a day. The deficiencies in infrastructure construction are evident. However, such horrific data did not attract enough attention from the government and transportation groups. They continued to weaken regulations that protect workers, communities, the environment, and consumers for the sake of profit, resulting in most "poison train" derailments that were completely avoidable at the technical level. Frequent.

For a long time, large U.S. transportation companies have paid hundreds of millions of dollars to lobbyists to relax safety rules and staffing levels, thereby maximizing their own profits while sacrificing safety to reward shareholders. Relevant data shows that the railway industry spent more than $24.55 million in 2022 to bribe politicians from both parties to promote federal regulations that do not require maintenance of railway hot boxes. This is also the key to multiple derailment accidents.

Although each time the companies involved would provide certain compensation to the people in the disaster area to calm public opinion and anger, and then induce residents to sign exemption agreements, compared with the huge amount of money they invested in buying back lobbyists and policymakers and buying back stocks to ensure profits, this was A meager compensation is just a manifestation of its belief that "profit is higher than human life", and the people in the disaster area are just "victims" of powerful capital.

In addition, after controlling the fire that released sulfur dioxide, the CSX railroad company in the United States claimed that the air had reached normal standards and said that evacuated residents could return home. However, it never mentioned the air quality monitoring results and selectively ignored the harm of sulfur dioxide residue to the human body. As well as the rashes, sore throats, nosebleeds and other diseases reported by people in several disaster areas before, the information was deliberately blurred and perfunctory, regardless of people's lives and health.

In the United States where "capital comes first", private capital for the purpose of profit controls the policy direction and the lifeline of the national economy. Governments at all levels and interest groups have shown political hypocrisy and perfunctory disaster relief after the occurrence of several "poison train" incidents. Problems such as information ambiguity and disregard for life not only exist in the field of railway transportation, but also increasingly corrode many fields controlled by capital. Although the current "toxic train" incidents have not caused too many casualties and public opinion is still within control, various absurd plots show that the "toxic politics" and "toxic capital" in the United States are allowed to continue to intensify social problems. , sooner or later the day will come when the public breaks out.

[renuvenate]

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[ashbrat488]

Ashbrat488 Fanfic Masterlist

Chris Evans

Ransom Drysdale - State of Grace - Complete

Grace Carson was friends with Ransom Drysdale throughout school. Best friends actually, but only in private, their friendship breaking apart after graduation. She went to college, coming back to Boston to work at Harlan's publishing company as an editor. But when Harlan dies, she's thrown back into Ransom's life at the bequest of Harlan himself. Will they be able to get along well enough to carry out Harlan's wishes or will their differences just be too much, leaving Ransom without his inheritance.

Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill AU - Foul Play - Complete

Millicent "Milly" Bailey loses her mother just before her high school graduation and decides to move to England with her newly found father, Darren, she didn't know about until she turned 16. Now she's an American from a small town in Iowa, thrown into a new country and a new culture at one of the most prestigious colleges in the world. She's quiet and mostly likes to keep to herself until she catches the eye of a handsome rugby player, Henry Cavill. Henry thinks it's funny to tease Milly, bullying her with the help of his friends. That is until his last year of school where he really needs to buckle down and obtain the proper grades if he wants to be scouted for the England Rugby Team. Neither of them are happy when the dean, Milly's father, puts them together in their last year for Milly to help him graduate. Can they learn to see eye to eye and get along or will everything fall apart before graduation?

Captain Syverson - Flower In The Desert - Complete

Violet Becker is the daughter of the Major General, and despite her ranking, she refuses special treatment when she gets sent to the middle east in the midst of war. Constantly underestimated her whole life, she finishes medical school and is itching to put her new skills to work. She is left under the command of Edward Syverson who has sworn to her father to protect her. Can he keep his promise or is having to take care of a woman in the middle of a warzone too much for even him?

August Walker - Candy - Ongoing

August Walker, the CEO of a renowned Security Firm located in the bustling streets of Washington DC. His life is a constant juggling act, burdened by the weight of stressful responsibilities. The strain on his marriage is palpable, with his relationship barely holding itself together. However, he remains tethered to his wife primarily for the sake of their son, whom he adores dearly. To find solace amidst the chaos, August forms a unique bond with an escort who goes by the name "Candy." Their clandestine meetings become a refuge for him, an escape from the pressures of his daily existence. For over nine months, their encounters grow in frequency, and August finds himself becoming increasingly possessive of Candy's time, although he strives to keep their interactions as casual as she desires. However, their relationship takes an unexpected turn when August accidentally discovers Candy's true identity. Intrigued by this revelation, he begins to interfere in her life and even meddles in the affairs of her boyfriend, who coincidentally works for him. As August's feelings deepen, he wrestles with the idea of whether he can make Candy choose him over her current life.

Drabbles

Calahan Skogman (Baseball AU) - Sliding Into Home

Sebastian Stan AU - Hope In Love

Bucky Barnes - Torn Pages

Cole Turner (Chris Evans) - Codename: Turtledove

Ransom Drysdale - Speak Now

Steve Rogers - Happy Birthday Captain

Jake Jensen - Dessert

Ari Levinson/Steve Rogers MFM - Pure Smut

Lloyd Hansen/August Walker MFM - Pure Smut

Sherlock (Henry Cavill) - Sherlock And His Cane

Ewan McGregor - Better Than Revenge

Author's Note: I only write for readers over 18. I write a lot of smut. Please do not engage or read if you are under 18. I *do* take requests... I also have a lot more stories on Wattpad (including a lot of Chris Evans) if you would like to check them out there.

Also, all my female characters are always original. No, I do not write y/n or reader stories. I prefer to create actual characters. Just my preference

#henry cavill #chris evans #lloyd hansen #august walker #ransom drysdale #sand castle #knives out #avengers #steve rogers #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #calahan skogman #jake jensen #captain syverson #ofc #original female character #ari levinson #sherlock holmes #ewan mcgregor #taylor swift #cole turner

[gothhabiba]

Although the chemical imbalance model remains the dominant cultural story of depression in the United States (France, Lysaker, & Robinson, 2007), its validity has been publicly questioned with increasing frequency in recent years (e.g., Angell, 2011a, 2011b; Begley, 2010; Spiegel, 2012; Stahl, 2012). Scientists have long understood the “low serotonin” explanation of depression to be unsubstantiated (Kendler & Schaffner, 2011; Kirsch, 2010; Lacasse & Leo, 2005), and psychiatry is currently attempting to distance itself from this pseudoscientific notion. Prominent biomedical model proponents now use adjectives like “antiquated” (Insel, 2011) and “outmoded” (Coyle, cited in Spiegel, 2012) to describe the chemical imbalance story, thereby creating the misleading impression that this notion has only recently been exposed as mistaken. Pies (2011) proclaimed that the chemical imbalance theory is an “urban legend” that was never taken seriously by thoughtful psychiatrists. “In the past 30 years,” he asserts, “I don't believe I have ever heard a knowledgeable, well-trained psychiatrist make such a preposterous claim, except perhaps to mock it.” This declaration might come as a surprise to former APA president Steven Sharfstein who explicitly defended the validity of the chemical imbalance theory on NBC's Today Show (Bell, 2005b) in the wake of actor Tom Cruise's infamous remarks criticizing psychiatry (Bell, 2005a). Patients with mental disorders might also be surprised to learn that some doctors use the chemical imbalance story simply as a convenient metaphor for facilitating drug treatment and/or attempting to reduce stigma. Until recently, the American public had little reason to doubt the veracity of chemical imbalance claims promoted by the popular media, health websites, patient advocacy groups, governmental agencies, and other reputable medical authorities. Given recent high-profile revelations about the limitations of the chemical imbalance story, biomedical model advocates may face increasing pressure to disseminate accurate information about mental disorder rather than persist in the promotion of an unfounded but politically and economically useful scientific caricature.

–Brett J. Deacon, “The biomedical model of mental disorder: A critical analysis of its validity, utility, and effects on psychotherapy research.” Clinical Psychology Review 33 (2013), 846–861. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.cpr.2012.09.007

#psychiatry #antipsych #antipsychiatry #biomedical model #medical model #readings