#hypochondria mention

[yandere--stuck]

Yandere!Joker x Hypochondriac!Reader Headcanons

💜 Admittedly, Joker doesn't understand your fears, at first. For one, Joker has been victim to (and occasional creator of) so many conditions, illnesses, and maladies that he can hardly remember them all. And being in a constant state of being sick in the head takes a bit of the novelty away from being ill. Joker's met his fair share of germaphobes in his time, too. Usually he finds such fear of germs funny, but seeing it concern you so greatly takes the humor out of the situation. But hey, easy fix, right? He'll just ask his boys to fetch some hand sanitizer and it'll be all good.

💚 After witnessing you begin to spiral and break down over your worries after he had failed to take your fears as seriously as they should, Joker realizes that his initial assumption had been horribly wrong. This was far from normal germaphobia. This was serious! And serious problems required serious solutions - unfortunately. So, sorry, sweetheart, but you've been permanently barred from access to any medical texts. This is for the best, he promises! C'mon, the more you know, the more you'll worry. Take your mind off it by watching some cartoons with him!

💜 May use your requests for reassurance as a means for manipulation. And by may, he means absolutely will. You're just so cute clinging to him and begging him to tell him you're alright! In those moments, it feels like the whole world could be falling apart, and as long as he reassured you that it wasn't and that everything was okay, you'd believe it. It was a little bit addicting if he were being honest. He'd hold you in his arms and caress your face, assuring you that you were fine, you were normal, you were the furthest thing from I'll and he'd protect you from anything that could hurt you - and if you don't think he'd try to wipe out an illness just for you, then you're sorely mistaken!

💚 If you're concerned that you're already under the effects of an illness and are in extreme panic, Joker doesn't think twice about kidnapping Gotham's finest doctors in order to look you over and do a check up to make sure everything's okay. Joker will hold your hand and stick by your side the entire time to make sure you're as comfortable and at ease as you can be… All the while, the doctors are being held up by his men and Joker's hissing out threats if they do anything to upset or scare you. 

💜 Joker's never been one to forgo cleanliness, but that's not to see he's always had his hideouts squeaky-clean. This, however, is completely changed around in order to quell your fears. Joker now has stocks of sanitizers, gloves, masks, and all sorts of cleaning products. Unfortunately for his goons, though, he's rather lazy, and the job of cleaning and keeping things sanitized is usually offloaded onto them. If they fail to keep things clean enough, the Clown will go into a rage and make them dance as he fires a gun at their feet and then force them to clean up the mess 'they' made. Honestly, getting good help these day was so hard.

💚 If there's one thing Joker knows, it's that laughter is the best medicine. If he finds you ruminating, he'll immediately go into a routine he'd been thinking up that he's sure will leave you breathless with laughter until you've forgotten all about your worries. He loves you laugh and he loves when you're carefree and happy. And after he'll talk to you for hours and hours, absolutely smitten and grateful that he could help you through, even if only a little bit.

#yandere x reader #yandere joker #yandere joker x reader #yandere dc #dc x Reader #yandere imagines #the joker x reader #yandere btas #yandere arkhamverse #arkhamverse x Reader #btas x Reader #tnba x Reader #yandere #hypochondria tw #health anxiety tw #health illness tw #tw health anxiety #hypochondria mention #health anxiety ment #hypochondriac reader

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Let the record show:

TWO negative covid tests over the course of three days. I am fine. It is a cold. I am fine. My anxiety is stupid. I’m gonna be okay.

#tw covid mention #medical anxiety #hypochondria? I hardly know her!

[cringyguuurl]

My lungs hurt today and it made my hypochondria act up for the first time in awhile. I keep thinking this is what I get for smoking so much weed. I'm terrified I'm gonna fall asleep and never wake up (pretty ironical for a suicidal bitch). I know this means my anxiety is getting the best of me, my stress levels have been through the roof and I haven't been able to catch a break like... ever.

Death suddenly feels so much scarier when you don't have control over it.

#vent #tw suicide mention #medical anxiety #medical paranoia #hypochondria #hypochondriac #tw death mention #anxiety

[st4rry4pples]

bro those fucking cologard ads freak me out since my family has a history of stomach issues 🧍‍♀️

#also my hypochondria just despises any mention of a terminal illness lol #snl #saturday night live #snl liveblog

[pluralphilza]

median plurality here :> related to a lot of what your talking about, feeling more comfortable leaning into it for indemnity and comfort, management stuff, feeling always vaguely blurry and away, and a disconnect from official medical terms, was just really nice to read and be able to relate so much, have a great day that's all ^-^

Aww tysm!! 💖 Its always nice to see other systems especially median systems bc there is a lottt in this community. I think identity and personhood is really interesting and isnt really that well understood (at least from what I've seen that isnt really my academic specialty lol I'm a history major) because we have a lot of these like specific ideas about how people are and function. It's very strange!! Medical terms and understandings are helpful for a lot of people but for us it caused us a lott of issues with our hypochondriac kind of tendencies with our anxiety instead of just being like okay cool what works to help me/live with this.

#real #if people are a dick about me mentioning i struggle with hypochondria kind of shit i will shoot you on sight #it is an important thing to talk about but i hate soso many of the ways like mass sudden self-diagnosing with disorders are treated/talked #about #it made it soso difficult for me to figure out that I have POTS and prob EDS #like my mom thought it was just because it was trendy to have POTS or whatever for so long #<-his heartrate goes up to 190 regularly #i dont have real malice twords her for it though because a lot of it was her own internalized ableism relating to her chronic ilness stuff #also she struggles with health anxiety as well #it is always very frustrating though how people with hypochondria/healtg anxiety or even just general anxiety arent taken seriously #it feels like one of the new modern hysteria diagnoses #like disabled people can have health anxiety too... #like irrational fear about your health is going to feel a lot more rational to you when you have bad health already #not to dismiss those whose health anxiety is related to diaabilities though #prob should have put all of this in a seperate post instead of the tags #oh well

[demo-ness]

decided against making a post that said "the side of my leg has hurt for a week and I am being SO normal about it"

Not 5 minutes later a panic attack hits. punished for lack of levity

#hypochondria is a bitch because I've been doing a ton of heavy lifting this week AND it's my surgery leg #but still my brain is just. damn bro you're about to die of a blood clot #BUT THEN THE TWIST: the pain became COMFORTING once the panic attack hit #because when you're worried about blood clots and your chest suddenly feels like death? YEAH UH YOU STAY RIGHT TF THERE LEG-PAIN #amyways i have a plan. my sedative is expired and my pharmacy won't refill it without me talking to my doc again #and so what if while i was there. i so casually mention to the doc my current anxiety is about this extended leg pain #this plan is flawless except for the part where i have no insurance rn

[amazon-me-bitches]

hypochondria is kicking my ass today. So far wondered if i have...

-ibd

-colon cancer

-uteran cancer

-thyroid issues

-chrones

#The only one i really really think is possible is thyroid issues. #Blood in stool this morning #Illness mention #Hypochondria #Medical issues #Sorry if this is gross

[dizzified]

He's a severe hypochondriac and a germaphobe.

British accent.

He is very tall.

Has a medical degree and is a licensed doctor but won't use his skills.

Refuses to help sick and injured people due to his own personal trauma and aversion to germs and illness.

Due to not allowing himself to be exposed to sicknesses, his immune system has weakened over the years, and when he does get sick, it can be life-threatening. 

Has an older sister named Janile, who works as a biochemist. 

Despite being almost 30, he's aged from stress to the point he already has grey hair and looks twice his age. 

Is allergic to dirt.

Ex-boyfriend to Saga Lenvire.

His germaphobia and hypochondria was way less severe before he met him.

Saga would purposely trigger Veirium, 'accidentally' wiping dirt on him, shoving him into mud, handing him dusty, dirty, or otherwise unclean objects, covering him in dust, and using his cloak to clean things before giving it back to him. He also was a manipulative gasligher who loved to make Veirium feel insane, influencing him to do detrimental things before turning around and blaming him for it, claiming that he never told him to do so. He was also someone who made Veirium believe he was constantly ill, driving him to over-medicate and harm himself to try to fix illnesses that weren't there, only for Saga to reprimand him for it.

Saga intentionally made Veirium's entire town sick, instantly pressuring and pushing him to make a cure, behind the guise of being supportive of him and worried for everyone. Behind Veirium's back, he tampered with the cure, before hounding him to release it unfinished, and despite his apprehensions, ultimately ending up in him doing so, which led to the death of the entire town, including Veirium's family outside of his older sister.

Saga ended up leaving Veirium in the aftermath with a note blaming him for everything that had happened, and Veirium swamped with the trauma and guilt of believing he caused the death of everyone in his hometown, refused to use his skills to help anyone medically ever again, out of fear that he'd once again end up killing someone.

The situation left him with not only massive amounts of trauma but his relationship with Saga had caused his hypochondria and germaphobia to become borderline crippling. 

To this day, that guilt still hangs on his shoulders.

Veirium will clean every surface possible, he always carries cleansing supplies with him and despite wearing gloves, won't touch anything unless it's been thoroughly cleaned, and his definition of thoroughly clean means not being able to see a molecule of dust or grime on it. 

He often deprives himself of sleep in favor of compulsively cleaning. 

His eyesight isn't the best, therefore, he wears glasses.

Other than for washing it on a regular basis, Veirium doesn't like taking off his cloak, as he feels safe and protected when wearing it, unless it's dirty. But just in-case, he also wears a mask aswell.

He carries pepper spray for protective reasons, especially because he doesn't like people getting too close to him.

If you cough or sneeze in his presence, he will spontaneously combust. 

He has a habit of taking things way too far when it comes to his health, he's one to resort to drastic measures if he believes he's ill or infected and isn't above trying to cut off his own body parts or cut his body open in general to attempt to remove whatever he believes is ailing him. In his mind, that's the only way to fix things.

Despite having a medical degree and being good at his job when working with other people, when it comes to himself, he throws everything out the window in favor of panicking. Due to his knowledge of medicine, he's quick to just down medication he doesn't need if he believes it's necessary. 

He used to have long hair but ended up cutting it short and slicking it back due to long hair attracting more germs.

He is a complete shut-in and barely goes outside of his house for anything. 

He is often confused for being a plague doctor. 

Like a standard doctor, he has horrible writing abilities, and despite saying it's perfectly legible, it is indeed not. 

#oc lore #oc art #character art #character reference #tw: gaslighting #tw: psychological abuse #tw: toxic relationships #tw: death #tw: abuse #germaphobia #hypochondria #doctor #wolf #animal art #animals #digital art #art #tw: sh mention

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

#transgender #queer #transmasc #lgbtqia+ #trans man #sexism #medical sexism #feminism #male privilege

[bisexual-berry]

my doctor's got me on beta blockers for anxiety and they always make me a little weird but I always chalk it up to my hypochondria like it's 'light meds' it's whatever but today I look at the side effects and sure enough the serious ones are trouble breathing and pain in the chest and irregular heartbeat but like i also have that all the time cause I have anxiety that's what the pills are for in the first place 😭😭😭 istg being a hypochondriac is like playing 3d chess with your own brain

#kerol talks #ask to tag #pills mention #medicine mention #hypochondria #???

[mossy-moth]

made the mistake of googling one of my weird lumps

#pleasedontbecancerpleasedontbecancerpleasedontbecancer #PLEASE??????? #cancer mention #hypochondria

[loversj0y]

5 times wilbur helped you + 1 time you helped him

pairing: wilbur soot x gn! reader

TWs: hypochondria + drinking alcohol + sickenss + death mentioned

note: this was so cute to write ee i love a good 5 things + 1! this fic is very cutesy too, a good strangers to neighbors to friends to best friends to lovers moment!

taglist! @l0veb0mb1ng

word count: 6.2k

one

The record store managed to be both small and incredibly overwhelming. It was a cozy place, with gorgeous dark blue walls, soft lighting, and big windows. You’d decided to stop here on your way home from work given that you’d been living in Brighton for nearly four months now and have barely gone anywhere but work and your apartment. It was about time you’d looked at expanding your music taste, so a record store was the perfect place to try and find something new. 

At least, you’d hoped it was. You’d been browsing the place for a good fifteen minutes, just completely mindless as you searched for anything that could pique your interest. A few customers had come and gone, and you could tell the shopkeeper was getting a bit annoyed by your presence. There was one other person in there with you, but the sun was starting to set, so you could imagine that the shopkeeper wanted to start closing. You looked around again, eyes scanning the title cards. 

The Front Bottoms. You’d only heard a few of their songs, so maybe it would be good to give them a listen, and at least this way, you could get back home before the sun finished setting. You went to grab the last record, deciding it would be better than going home with nothing. As you reached for it, your hand quickly came into contact with another person’s, and you pulled your hand back quickly. 

“Oh, sorry!” You heard, turning to look up at the only other person in there. He was tall, soft brown curls peeking out from a beige beanie that matched his sweater. He was really cute as well, a soft flush covering your cheeks as you looked up at his smile that honestly took your breath away. 

You spent a moment remembering how to respond like a normal person before you spoke up, “Oh, no, that’s my bad!” You smiled softly, “You can have it, if you’d like, I’ve never really listened to them much.”

“Are you sure?” He gave you a soft smile that honestly made your heart melt a bit. 

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m sure, go ahead!”

He grabbed the record, holding it for a moment before looking back at you, “If you’ve never really listened, can I ask why you were going for it? I don’t mean to be rude, I’m just curious.”

“Oh,” you looked away, red dusting your cheeks, “I’ve been trying to expand my music taste a bit, so I figured I’d just come to a record store to find something that might catch my eye.”

He thought for a moment, walking away while talking, “Well, if you’re looking for suggestions,” he sorted through a few slots before walking over with a record, holding it out for you, “this band is one of my favourites, they have a really unique style and their lyrics are fantastic.” 

You took the record, looking down at it. The front cover showed a pair of knees with blood going down one leg and a bed behind the legs. An interesting cover, to say the least. You turned to the back cover, which was more simple, detailing the tracklist with the band’s name up top. 

“Los Campesinos!? I’ve never heard of them.”

He lit up like a kid in a candy store just from you saying their name, “Yeah, I mean, they’re not as big as they used to be, but they’re really good.”

You looked down at the record in your hand once again, before looking back up to the excited but nervous grin on his face and nodding. “Alright, yeah. Thank you.”

He perked up even more, stuttering out his next words, “Cool, yeah, alright.” There was a faint blush on his cheeks as he moved to go check out. 

“I hope you enjoy it, really, it’s one of my absolute favorite records,” he gave you a gentle smile as he finished getting rung up by the shopkeeper. He looked like he wanted to ask you something, but before he could, his phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket, cursing softly. 

“I’ve got to run,” he sighed, smiling at you once more as he headed towards the door, “it was nice talking to you.”

You tried to ignore the fact that your mood faltered a bit at the knowledge that he would have to leave, even if you’d only been speaking for about five-odd minutes. “It was nice talking to you too. Thanks for the recommendation!” You smiled, giving him a slight wave as he walked out the door, before purchasing the record. With a frown, you realized that you never caught his name.                                            

two 

It was raining. It was cold, and it was raining. It was cold, raining, and your arms hurt. You had walked half a mile back to your apartment in the freezing rain with a box of your things because your boss decided that your last work wasn’t “suitable for the brands image” whatever that meant and fired you. You’d cried about it on the first half of the walk, stressed over having to potentially find a new job. But now you were just tired, the rain was seeping through your coat to your skin, and you could feel the cold in your bones which was entirely unpleasant when carrying a shitty cardboard box filled with the contents of your entire office. 

You managed to get into the building, thankfully your downstairs neighbor was kind enough to hold the door open for you when she’d seen you struggling to open the door. That wasn’t the hard part, though, no, the hard part was somehow trying to fish your keys from your pocket without dropping the box of things and then proceeding to unlock your door. 

You pushed the box between your door and chest, trying to use the tension in order to get the keys out of your pocket.

You quickly got distracted by the sound of a door behind you opening. You didn’t really know much about your neighbor across the hall. You’d never actually met him, since it appeared you and him had opposing schedules for the most part. You were always out by eight A.M. to walk to work, and you usually only returned around 6 P.M.. From what you could gather, he usually left sometime around noon and only returned later in the night, though sometimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d hear him get back as late as 2 A.M..

 Because of the distraction, you ended up dropping the keys right onto the ground. You tried to carefully manuveur your way into picking up the keys, but instead, you were met with the sound of crashing as the wet cardboard gave way and fell to the floor, scattering your belongings across the hallway.

You sighed, crouching down to start picking things up when you heard a voice from across the hall.

“Oh, here, let me,” your neighbor spoke, leaning down to grab a photo that had fallen in front of his door. 

You looked up, shock flooding you for a moment as you finally got a look at your neighbor.

“You’re that guy,” you smiled, and his head whipped up alarmingly fast, “from the record store.”

He relaxed when you finished your sentence, a soft smile coming onto his face as he held out the photo, “Yeah, uh, hi. You live across the hall?” You nodded as you took the photo, and he chuckled, “Well, that guess the world is funny like that.” He helped you clean up the things, placing them inside the box for you.

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, no, I insist, trust me,” he gave you a warm smile, and you suddenly didn’t feel so cold anymore. 

“Thank you,” you spoke timidly

It didn’t take long before all of your things were recollected, and you carefully stood, unlocking your apartment door. You went to lean down to pick up the box, but your neighbor had already picked it up.

“I could bring it inside, if you want. It’s a bit heavy. Not- not that you can’t carry it, I- I just mean-” His nervous stuttering brought a laugh out of you, and he paused, face flushed as he looked up at you.

“It’s alright, I knew what you meant. That would be really nice, thank you,” you opened the door, holding it open for him as he carried the box in. 

“You can just place it anywhere on the counter,” you spoke, and he nodded, placing it on the countertop before processing the contents of the box.

He clearly knew what that box meant, but he didn’t ask about it. Maybe it was because of your red-rimmed eyes, or the fact that it was quite obvious that you weren’t having a good day, but he asked another question instead.

“How did you like the album?”

You shrugged off your wet coat, hanging it up before turning to him, a soft smile on your face, “It was a bit odd, but I really liked it.”

He lit up, “Really? Which one was your favorite?”

You thought for a moment, “I’d have to say A Heat Rash in the Shape of the Show Me State.”

If he lit up just from you saying you liked the album, he was set ablaze with happiness as you spoke, “God, that song is fantastic! It’s my favorite as well.”

You grinned, and after a moment, it occurred to you that you still didn’t know his name.

“Alright, so, things I know about you: you really like The Front Bottoms and Los Campesinos!, and your favorite song from Romance is Boring is A Heat Rash. Things I don’t know: your name,” you chuckled.

A blush returned to his cheeks, and he looked down sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking back up at you, “My name’s Wilbur.” You smiled, “Wilbur. It’s nice to know you and meet you, in that order. My name’s Y/N.” 

“Pleasure to meet you as well,” he gave you a bright smile, before humming softly, “Do you want some hot cocoa?” You laughed, tilting your head a bit, “What?”

“Well, I was gonna run by the shops to get some, so I was wondering, if you wanted, I could bring you some. I’d imagine it would be nice after getting caught in the rain.”

You looked up at him, unable to hide the smile spreading across your face, “Yeah, uh, thank you, Wilbur. That sounds lovely.”

three

Sometimes you think the universe had it out for you. It had only been about a month and a half since you’d gotten fired, and while you were able to start doing freelance work, that didn’t mean that things were looking up for you. Not at all. Because sometimes, when the stars aligned, they didn’t align positively. 

You got the text an hour ago. Your boyfriend — well, now ex-boyfriend — Jared, sent some short message detailing just why he couldn’t stand you anymore. How your “love” had died out and lost its spark and honestly you couldn’t care. He hadn’t done anything in months, you were the only one trying anymore. You’d just hoped maybe he would eventually try. 

Regardless, you found comfort in the night sky. The roof was supposed to be off limits, but you discovered pretty quickly upon moving in that they never actually locked the door. Still, you didn’t make it a habit to come up here, just in case. But on nights like this, where you couldn’t decide if you were relieved or distraught, the quiet night sky always helped you feel somewhat consoled. You put on a nice pair of headphones and listened to some quiet music, allowing the song to drown out the sounds of the city. 

You closed your eyes for a few minutes, taking a deep breath. 

When you went to look up at the stars again, you were instead met with the concerned look of Wilbur from above you. You startled, sitting up and pulling your headphones off. 

“Wilbur! Holy shit, you scared the fuck out of me.”

You hadn’t seen Wilbur much since that day outside your door. He did eventually bring you the hot cocoa, and you had a nice chat but not much else after that. You saw him in passing sometimes, now that you weren’t working a 9-to-5 and could leave your apartment whenever you dictated, but you would only share a few words.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled, a soft blush on his cheeks, “I didn’t mean to, I thought you’d heard me saying your name. Didn’t realise the headphones were soundproof.” 

You sat up, getting a better look at him. He had a pair of nice black pants on, as well as a large grey jumper. He also had a guitar across his back. You knew he played, you could hear soft strumming sometimes at night, but it was different to actually see him with it. He was also holding a half-empty bottle, and while you couldn’t see the label, you could tell it was probably vodka. 

“It’s alright,” you laughed lightly, “what are you doing out here anyways?”

“I could ask you the same,” he smiled, pulling the guitar off his back, “I come up here to play sometimes when my apartment feels too confining. You?”

You sighed, “I like staring at the stars when my head feels overwhelming. Makes it easier.”

He nodded, considering something for a moment, “Do you mind if I’m here as well? I won’t bother you, if you don’t want.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. Might be nice to have some company, actually.” 

You gave him a soft smile, and he returned the gesture, sitting across from you. He pulled his guitar across his lap, starting to pluck out some gentle notes. You looked up at the sky while he played, and it felt nicer than when you had been alone. 

The only thing that brought you out of the peaceful energy was Wilbur pausing his playing to open the bottle and take a drink. You watched him curiously.

“Do you want some?” He asked, holding out the bottle, “It’s just vodka.” 

Any other night, you would’ve said no. Any other night, you couldn’t justify it. Tonight? Tonight, you could. 

You nodded and took the bottle, taking a swig. You cringed a bit from the taste, setting the bottle back down between you both. Wilbur’s company was nice. He played delicate melodies, and for the longest time, neither of you spoke. 

The alcohol softened you, made you lose a bit of your filter. You were curious about Wilbur, and a conversation sounded comforting. 

“You… said you come up here when your apartment gets too confining. What did you mean by that?” You drew your knees up to your chest as you asked him, giving him a curious look. 

His hands paused for a moment as you asked, but he continued to play softly as he went on to speak. 

“I’m not used to staying in one place for long. I haven’t lived here incredibly long, but sometimes I have to fight that urge to just pack up and go. Being in my apartment makes that feeling, that urge stronger. Being up here makes it feel easier, because I’m not stuck in some room. I’m just up here with the sky.” 

You nodded as he explained, humming softly in lieu of a response. He took your questioning as an opportunity himself. 

“You come up here when you’re overwhelmed. What’s on your mind?” 

A sigh escaped you before you spoke softly, “A lot. I’ve lived here nearly six months, and it’s been… weird. Moved here for a job that fired me. Haven’t made an actual friend yet. My now ex-boyfriend gave up on our relationship. Lots of little things stacking into a pile that is currently tipping over.”

He continued playing as he listened and for a while you wondered if he was going to respond at all. Eventually he did, but it wasn’t the response you’d expected.

“You have me.” 

“What?”

“I just- You said you haven’t made an actual friend yet,” he shrugged softly, “I’d say you have. Me.” 

It took a moment — and you could see the nerves rising in him as you processed his words — but a grin split across your face.

“Thanks, Wilbur.” 

He chuckled, and you could just barely spot the pink tint on his cheeks. “You make good company,” he reached for the bottle again, taking another sip as he spoke.

“So do you.” You drank a bit more as well, and the two of you fell back into comfortable silence.

You both stayed out there until the bottle was empty, chatting lightly every now and then, but mostly just staying quiet while Wilbur played soft tunes. When you went back downstairs to your respective apartments, Wilbur kept an arm wrapped around you to keep you from drunkenly stumbling your way down the stairs. It wasn’t stressful or anything, both of you muffling laughter to try and prevent any complaints. He walked you to your door, staying with you to make sure you got inside your apartment. 

Once you had the door open, you walked in, but turned and leaned against the doorway to talk with him for a moment. 

He smiled softly at you, speaking in hushed tones, “Have a good night, Y/N.”

You smiled back up at him, “You too, Wilbur.”

He turned and walked across the hall to his apartment, getting his door open. Before he could close the door behind him, you called out softly. 

“Hey, Wilbur?”

He turned, looking back at you curiously. 

“Thank you.”

His smile widened, eyes bright.

“Don’t worry about it. And if you ever need company again, don’t hesitate to ask, alright?”

You nodded, before walking into your apartment, and heading to bed feeling relieved and light despite everything that should’ve made you feel otherwise. 

four

If there was any way to describe you, it was stubborn. Hence why, despite the severe cold and fever you had, you were still working. You were working from home on some graphic design for a law firm, so it wasn’t particularly hard, but the fever was definitely impacting your ability to actually understand the task you were supposed to be working on. 

Despite most of your work being done from home, you still made it a habit to leave your apartment at least twice a week to stop you from going completely stir-crazy. You followed a routine. Once a week you’d go out to get groceries and a coffee, and the second day was up to you to figure out what to do. Wilbur made that easier. Your rooftop trips became a common habit, usually going up there once a week, sometimes with snacks or drinks, to just talk. In a matter of about two months, he quickly became your best friend, and even though it was getting cold outside, you’d always gladly jump at the opportunity to head up with him and just exist. It was also nice to have him living across the hall; it made living in a new city easier to have your closest friend mere steps away. 

It also made it easy for him to notice your routine. More importantly, it made it easier for him to notice when your routine was off. Like this week, when you decided to forgo going out for groceries, deciding that you’d just deal with what you had since you weren’t feeling well enough to actually leave your apartment. That was the first time he noticed something was wrong. 

The second time was when he texted you, asking if you wanted to go up to the roof that night. You replied, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was what the reply said. 

‘ m niur sure im nto feelkibt to o good’

Your phone buzzed with his reply, a series of question marks that you couldn’t honestly gather the strength to reply to. You tried, for sure, but your message was less legible than the first, so you didn’t bother sending it. Because of how close you two had gotten, you’d also swapped emergency keys. Primarily because one night you dropped your key on the way in and had to take temporary residence on his couch while you waited for your apartment’s office to open, so you could get a replacement made. 

When he got that text, it worried him even more. When you didn’t respond to his follow-up, it made him worry enough to go knock on your door. You didn’t even hear the knock, head foggy from a mixture of sickness and attempts to focus. That brought an entire other wave of concern to Wilbur, and he felt panic begin to bubble up in his chest. 

He pulled out your spare key, opening the door quickly and eyes scanning the room. 

“Y/N?” He called out, seeing you sitting on your couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you stared helplessly at your laptop screen. 

You looked up, eyes taking a moment to focus. “Wilbur?” Your voice sounded weak, and your nose was clearly stuffed, “What are you doing here?” 

He relaxed when his eyes met yours, walking over to you. 

“I got worried. Your text was… less than readable. Plus, you didn’t answer when I knocked.” He looked over at your computer, “What are you doing?”

You groaned, tipping your head back. “Trying to work.”

“While sick?”

“I’m not that sick. Just a cold.”

He raised an eyebrow, walking closer and placing a hand on your forehead. “You definitely do not just have a cold. When’s your deadline?” 

“Next week,” you sighed, “But I want to figure it out sooner.” 

“And how’s that working for you?” He chuckled a bit, “If your text is anything to go off, I strongly doubt you’re doing your best work right now.” 

You huffed softly, closing your eyes for a moment, “Maybe I’ll take a break-“

“Nope! You’re done for today,” he hummed, happily picking up your laptop and moving it to the side table. 

“Will,” you whined out. Before you could even try to argue, you started coughing into your arm, gasping a bit for breath. 

He cringed a bit, but he gladly fought his own hypochondriatic thoughts to make sure you were alright. 

“Have you taken any medicine?” He hummed, walking over to your pantry and opening it. You’d be more baffled by his behaviour if it weren’t for the fact that raiding each other’s pantry was usually the first thing either of you did when you came over anyways. 

“Not since this morning.”

He nodded, grabbing something from the pantry. From your spot on the couch, you couldn’t see what he was grabbing, but he didn’t even give you a chance to look before walking over. 

“Go take a warm shower and put on comfy clothes, okay? You can take the medicine after. Sounds good?”

As stubborn as you were, it honestly sounded fucking fantastic. Maybe the sickness made you weaker, but you sighed, slowly standing. He reached his hands out, just in case you wobbled or fell. 

“Do you need help getting there?” He asked. Normally, someone asking that would make you want to kick them out and crawl into a hole to die, but with Wilbur, you sensed no malice or judgement in his tone, only genuine care and concern. Regardless, you shook your head, stabilising yourself enough to walk to your room. 

Your shower was quick, but the warm water did wonders. Your muscles felt immediately better, and your headache finally weakened just enough to make it feel relieving. Plus, you put on a big hoodie and some long pajama pants which helped you feel much more relaxed than the stiff clothing you’d been wearing before. You walked back out into your living room, seeing Wilbur standing at your stove. 

“Will? What are you doing?” You chuckled, walking over. 

He smiled, “I made soup. Go sit, it’s almost done.” “Did you make any for yourself?”

He faltered a bit, “Uh, no, I didn’t, why?”

You frowned, “Make yourself some too, please. I feel bad.”

“Will it mean you letting me take care of you?”

You nodded, and he sighed softly, a fond smile on his face. “Alright. Do you want to eat at the same time as me, or would you prefer now?” “Same time as you.”

“I should’ve guessed that,” he chuckled, “Okay. Just relax, put something on the TV. I’ll bring you the food and medicine once it’s done.”

You nodded, footsteps padding across the floor as you returned to the couch, this time curling up on your side, against the edge of the couch. You turned on some light music, knowing you wouldn’t have the energy to actually watch anything you could turn on. You closed your eyes, trying to relax as you fought off coughs and nausea waves.

You could hear Wilbur humming in the kitchen, and you smiled lightly. As stubborn as you were, it felt nice to have someone taking care of you. Especially since it was someone you trusted as much as Wilbur. You let yourself start to drift off as waves of exhaustion rolled over you.

You woke up from Wilbur gently shaking your shoulder.

“I’m sorry to wake you, but you need to eat,” he spoke quietly, not wanting to startle you awake. 

“Mm’kay,” you groaned out a bit, slowly sitting up. 

He helped you sit up, smiling and holding up the bowl. “Do you want to hold it or sit at the counter?”

You reached for the bowl, “If I move, I’ll probably cry,” you joked. He passed the bowl to you, and he sat down next to you with his own bowl. You started eating slowly, thankful that the soup wasn’t too hot. 

“This is really good,” you smiled softly at him, “thank you, Wilbur.”

He smiled, “you really don’t have to thank me. I want to take care of you.” 

You flushed lightly, looking down at your bowl and continuing to eat quietly. 

“Do you want me to put on a movie or something?” He asked softly.

You nodded, and he took the remote, putting on some random movie. It wasn’t long before you finished your soup, relieved at the feeling of having food in your stomach. Once he finished, he stood, taking both your bowl and his own to the kitchen. He walked back over with the medicine, holding it out for you.

You took the medicine easily, groaning at the taste. Wilbur was quick to hand you a glass of water before returning to the kitchen and cleaning up. When he got back, he sat next to you, placing a hand to your forehead.

“Your temperature feels better now.” He noted, letting his hand fall. 

You gently shifted, your head now leaning against his shoulder, “I still feel like shit.”

He chuckled, and an arm wrapped around you, causing you to lean into his warmth further, “The medicine should kick in soon. You should’ve told me sooner, and you shouldn’t have been working. It only makes it harder for your body to heal.” 

You groaned, “I thought I was fine. I never get sick like this.”

He hummed, gently rubbing your back and God, if it didn’t feel amazing, “You’ve been dealing with a lot lately. You need rest.” 

You sighed and nodded, “I know.”

“Just relax, alright?” he smiled, “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you’re better.”

Your heart warmed at the thought. You nodded before shifting and laying your head on his lap. “Is this okay?”

He nodded, a hand coming to gently thread through your hair, “Of course. You can sleep, if you’d like. I’ll be here.”

You smiled, eyes closing slowly. “Thank you, Wilbur,” you spoke softly, exhausting creeping into your bones and clear in your voice. 

“Don’t worry about it. I want you to be okay.”

You fell asleep quickly, a soft smile on your face. 

five

Things were starting to look up. Your freelance work was bringing in good money, and even better, you had a date tonight. However, it had been a long while since you’d gone on a date. So, you frankly had no clue what to wear. 

You took a quick shower, putting on a robe and blowdrying your hair. Once you were at least semi-presentable, you walked across the hall, knocking on Wilbur’s door. 

He opened the door quickly, a smile on his face, “Hey, what’s going on?” He chuckled softly.

You just smiled, “I have no clue what to wear. Can you help me pick?” He nodded, grabbing his keys and locking his door before following you to your apartment. 

“Just, sit on the couch, I’ll be right back.”

He sat down, smiling softly. Wilbur always looked good, and he happened to be cursed with either amazing or horrible fashion sense. Today was one of his amazing fashion sense days, a pair of nice jeans and a simple black button-up, plus a sweater over the top and the black Docs he always wore. He would definitely be able to help you choose. 

You walked into your closet, grabbing two options and walking back out to him, “Which one?”

He looked over the two options, thinking, “The black one. It’s a lot more date-night vibe, plus you’ve said that top makes you feel more confident.” 

You grinned, nodding quickly before going back to your room to change. You spent a bit more time getting ready, making sure your accessories were nice, fixing up your hair and your face a bit before taking a deep breath. You checked the time, only ten minutes until your date.

You walked back out, looking at him with a soft smile, “So? What do you think?”

He looked up from his phone, and a grin slowly spread across his face, “You look amazing. Seriously, you look absolutely fantastic.”

A flush spread across your cheeks, looking down a bit shyly, “Thank you, Wilbur. For your help, as well.”

He nodded, standing, “Of course. You know I’m always here if you need help,” he looked back down at his phone before he looked up at you, “So, you ready to go?” He grinned, holding his hand out towards you.

“I’m ready,” you smiled, taking his hand, “Where are we going, by the way?”

He chuckled, walking with you out the door, “It’s a surprise. It won’t be a long walk, though, don’t worry.” He smiled, and the two of you were off for your date. 

+1

Freelance work sometimes meant traveling. You hated being away from Wilbur, since you guys spent nearly every day seeing each other. However, there was a job a short flight away that was paying really well, so you took it and had spent four days on this trip. You were supposed to be there for a week, but you’d finished a lot faster than anticipated, so you were able to head home early. 

There was another reason you wanted to head home early too. Wilbur hadn’t responded to you in the past three days, aside from occasionally liking the messages you sent and sending the occasional heart. This wasn’t something new, there were days when Wilbur didn’t have the energy to leave his bed, let alone send a proper response. What worried you was that this was the first time you weren’t physically there to help him through it. So when you got the approval to head home early, you jumped at the opportunity and immediately booked your plane home. 

You stopped at your apartment first, dropping off your bags and changing into one of Wilbur’s hoodies and a pair of sweatpants before walking over to his apartment. You unlocked his door, a normal thing for the two of you now, walking in slowly. There were takeout boxes cluttering the kitchen, along with empty and half-filled cups littered throughout the apartment. You walked over to his room.

The lights were off, but you could see the light from his phone on his bed. He was asleep, his phone left open on some random post he’d been scrolling on. You locked his phone and put it on the charger, leaning over and gently kissing his forehead. He didn’t react other than shifting a bit in his sleep. You looked over him quietly. There were bags under his eyes, so he clearly hadn’t been sleeping much, and you could tell from the pile of laundry that he hadn’t done much to take care of himself. You let him rest, returning to the living room to start cleaning up. 

You spent an hour throwing things away and taking out the trash, and after, you washed the dirty dishes and dried them, putting them all back in the specific place he’d always put them. You wiped down some of the surfaces as well, knowing how he got sometimes about germs. You went to his room next, picking up all the clothes from the floor and taking them to the washing machine. You organized his desk as well, moving cluttered papers and notes of song lyrics and stacking them into a nice pile. You had your back turned to him as you dusted his room a bit, and you heard his voice.

“Darling?” He spoke softly, voice a bit raw from lack of use.

You turned, walking over to him and smiling, “Hi, Will.” You leaned down, gently kissing him. 

He kissed you back lovingly, reaching a hand up to gently cup your cheek. When you’d pulled away, his thumb gently stroked over your cheek.

“What are you doing back already?”

You smiled softly, lightly brushing back some of his messy hair, “Finished the project early. Plus, I missed you.” 

He cracked a gentle smile, arms slowly coming and wrapping around you. You let him pull you into the bed, wrapping your arms around him as well. 

“I missed you too,” you murmured against your shoulder. 

You held him tightly, the both of you lying there quietly for a while.

“How are you feeling?” you asked softly, looking at him with concern. 

He looked ashamed for a moment, head falling a bit, “Not great.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He nodded after a while, taking a deep breath, “Just one of those times, I guess. I- I don’t really know what triggered it, I think my heartbeat was just a bit too fast the other night, and I was just so sure that this was it for me. And I just got so scared that I couldn’t do anything. It just ended up getting worse, and even if I don’t think I’m dying anymore, it just triggered a lot of bad thoughts, I guess. After a day, even standing felt exhausting. I felt paralyzed.” He sighed, and you gently kissed his forehead. 

“Well, you’re not dead. You’re right here with me. You’re okay,” you spoke softly, staring at him lovingly. It wasn’t often that his hypochondria overtook him so much, but you knew how hard it was when it did, even if you didn’t fully understand it. 

He nodded. “I know, I am. It just all got a bit overwhelming.” 

“That’s okay. It happens to all of us sometimes. You don’t have to feel bad for it, alright?”

He nodded, hugging you tighter. “Thank you,” he whispered out. 

You kissed the top of his head, “You don’t have to thank me, okay? I’m here for you, throughout everything.”

He squeezed you tighter for a second before relaxing, just holding you gently as he nodded. 

“How long have you been back?” He asked softly.

“A few hours,” you shrugged.

He frowned, “I’m sorry. You should’ve woken me up.”

You shook your head, “Don’t apologize. Plus, I made good use of my time.”

He tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

You smiled, gently playing with his hair, “I just cleaned up a bit. I wanted you to rest, and I wanted you to wake up to a clean place. I know that mess stresses you out, and I didn’t want it to add to the bad feelings.”

He looked up at you, and he looked around the room after, processing the lack of clothes on the floor and trash. When he looked back at you, he had tears in his eyes, “thank you,” he whispered, biting his lip and holding you close again, “you’re the fucking best.”

You smiled fondly, “Don’t worry about it, really. I want to take care of you the same way you take care of me.” 

He sniffled a bit, and you pulled him forward while he cried into your shoulder for a moment. 

You let him cry as much as he needed to, rubbing his back. When he’d stopped crying, you pulled away, looking down at him. “When’s the last time you showered?” You asked softly, no judgement to be found anywhere in your tone. 

He thought for a moment, “Three days ago, I think. I don’t remember, if I’m being honest.”

You nodded, smiling softly, “Well, I just got off a plane, so I’m pretty gross myself. Let’s shower, and then we can change your sheets? And I can make us some dinner?”

He nodded as well, sitting up slowly, “Okay.”

You sat up with him, holding his hand the entire time, “Rooftop dinner tonight?”

He smiled, bringing your hand up to his mouth, kissing it gently, “Yeah. That sounds really nice.”

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #mar writes #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #mcytumblr #mcyt wilbur

[ace-touya]

EraserMic Family Headcanons

Along with his radio show, Mic also has a podcast, and Eri plays this all the time when she’s feeling lonely, because she has no idea what he’s talking about but his voice is comforting

Mic is physically incapable of swearing. Whenever he swears, his quirk censors him, so it’s just a loud beep. This annoys him.

Aizawa can rap. Nobody believes Shinso when he mentions this

They all like styling each other’s hair

Eri considers being gay the default setting. She’s never met a straight couple before.

Eri and Shinso have matching bunny slippers

Shinso and Aizawa have matching sleeping bags

Most of the family are cat people. Then there’s Mic.

Most of the family dress alt. Then there’s Eri.

Mic doesn’t sleep. He says that Aizawa gets enough sleep for both of them

Because Mic is hard of hearing, they all use sign language around the house, so even though Shinso and Eri aren’t fluent, they’re learning quickly

They have a family quotebook

Midnight is like the aunt and she has girls nights with Eri

Eri loves music because of the concert and Mic being her dad. I can see her learning piano, and really liking art. As a kid, she wants to try a bunch of different hobbies to try and figure out what she’s interested in.

Mic doesn’t trust Aizawa driving because he fell asleep at the wheel once

When Eri wants to sleep in Mic and Aizawa’s bed, she asks. Sometimes Shinso wants to sleep in there too, but he doesn’t ask, he just gets in.

Eri has a massive fear of getting sick because Chisaki had hypochondria and likely treated her even worse whenever she was unwell.

Aizawa, Shinso and Mic all wear eyeliner

They all love hugs, but only Mic and Eri admit it

#erasermic family #hitoshi shinsou #eri mha #hizashi yamada #shouta ​aizawa #bnha #mha #boku no hero acedamia #my hero academia #erasermic #present mic #headcanons

[dumbslxtclub]

you’re on your own, kid | e.m - part two

eddie munson x pregnant!reader

summary: set after the events of season four, Steve has disappeared and is presumed dead in the upside down. broken and now left to deal with your pregnancy alone, Eddie takes it upon himself to support you to the best of his abilities in Steve’s absence.

chapter summary: robin gets you out of the house to go maternity shopping, and eddie learns about your pregnancy

content warnings: fem!reader adult language, adult themes, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, angst, some canon divergence, mentions of death , reader is 19, slow burn

word count: 2.2K+

↳  one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight  / nine / ten / eleven

Part Two: Chest-Burster

Despite your reluctance to participate, the world continues to turn as the gang settles back into a life somewhat resembling normalcy. Time doesn’t care for your grief, it seems. Hopper was able to pull a few strings in the police department to clear Eddie’s name, pinning the deaths on Jason. Robin came by every day to check on you, delivering groceries by bike and bringing you the latest video releases to watch. Her hypochondria had been dialed up by a million after your first doctor’s appointment, sourcing out every prenatal vitamin under the sun and forcing them down your throat daily. Days turned into weeks, which would be unremarkable if it weren’t for your growing situation. Not only the one swelling in your belly, but the mounting pile of bills on your counter were now unavoidable. 

You knew you couldn’t exist in your bubble of misery much longer, not when the threat of eviction was looming. But, of course, there was also the matter of your bump, which you were hoping to hide until you were ready to tell everyone. At 5 months along, it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide as your shirts now fit a little too snuggly, and Robin was eager to get you out of the house and into some new clothes that weren’t Steve’s sweatshirts. And so, you found yourself at a small boutique just outside of town, browsing the maternity section for something that wasn’t completely hideous while doing your best to avoid any recognition. Robin strolls over holding a long multi-coloured polka-dot dress.

“How about this? Looks like it’s got lots of room to grow.” She studies the dress before handing it over to you proudly.

“Looks like something out of the circus. I think we should stick to something a bit more subtle.” You hang it back on a return rack before continuing to flick through an assortment of neutral pants with large stretchy waistbands.

“Oohh, how about these?!” You hear Robin practically squeal behind you. You spin around to see her holding a pair of light-wash denim overalls. A small smile creeps across your face as you touch the soft material.

“Yeah, I like these.” She twirls you around until you’re face to face with the store’s full length mirror. Robin holds the overalls out in front of your body, grabbing a knit sweater off a nearby rack to complete the look.

“Now that’s one hot mama.” You giggle at her joke, admiring your new look. Gratitude washes over you as you lay your head against her shoulder, however, the moment is short-lived. A gasp escapes Robin’s lips as she shoves the clothes into your arms and disappears out of sight momentarily, only to reappear holding the smallest pair of overalls you’ve ever seen. Suddenly, the worry you had been experiencing for months on end momentarily dissipates. How can something that can fit into something so small be scary?

“Oh my god, I’m so getting you these.” She grabs a basket and makes a beeline for the baby section. You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, it’s contagious. As you go to follow her, you catch some movement behind your reflection in the mirror. You spot two girls whose names you can’t remember from your class in high school, who are glaring at you and whispering to each other. A snicker spreads across the red-head’s face, which causes your cheeks to flush in embarrassment.

“Shit.” You immediately put your head down and duck behind the racks to seek out Robin, heart racing. Hawkins is a small town, so you know gossip is going to spread fast, and god knows you’re not ready for the world to know yet. You find Robin sorting through a pile of assorted coloured onesies.

“What about some yellow and green ones? Like gender neutral colors until we know-” She pulls out a few size options, not paying attention to your now frazzled state.

“Code red.” You peek around to see the girls exiting the shop, still glancing your way.

“Oh, red! I saw some red ones under here somewhere-”

“No, CODE red.” Realization washes over her face as she follows your eye-line to watch the girls still giggling outside the front windows of the store.

“Fuck! I thought we’d gone far enough out to avoid any nosey townsfolk.” She throws the tiny onesie back onto the table, running her hands through her hair as she often does when she’s stressed. “Oh shit, was that Kristie? Because it totally looked like Kristie, and you know Kristie’s gonna tell Tina and then Tina’s gonna tell-”

“Yeah, I get the picture, Robin.” You sigh as you come to terms with your fate, it’s only a matter of days before practically the whole town knows. In a way, it’s not the worst thing that could have happened. You were prepared to put it off for as long as humanly possible, and you were physically running out of time. So, you decide to double down.

“Hey, want a ride to work tomorrow? Think it’s about time I get back into the vest. I mean, if it still fits.” You ask, and a grin quickly takes over Robin’s face, clearly excited to have you back on the store floor with her. She throws her arms around you and gives you a big squeeze.

“You sure you’re ready? I mean, there’s no pressure-”

“I’m sure, Robin.”

The first few shifts back were hard, everything in the small store reminded you of Steve. Your mind flooded with memories as you restock the shelves, remembering how Steve would purposely put horror films in the comedy section just to mess with you, or the way he could never be trusted with the cardboard cut-outs (he tripped over at least three during your shared shifts). But Robin’s presence made it easier. She delegated you to all behind the counter duties to keep you from running around the store all day. But as midday hit and Robin left for her lunch break, it was just you to hold down the fort. Fortunately, it was a rather quiet Thursday morning, meaning there was nothing much for you to do except put returns away. You were busying yourself in the action section as you hear the bell chime behind you. 

“Robin, got some returns for you. And yeah, I know they’re late but Henderson insisted on watching Re-Animator all goddamn week so-”

You glance over your shoulder to see Eddie laying his returns on the counter, peering over looking for Robin. Your stomach drops, time to face the music. You know once Eddie knows, it’ll only be a few hours before everyone in the gang is clued in. But it’s okay, it’s cool. You’ve totally got this.

“Hey.” Your voice comes out as barely a squeak, not the confidence you were hoping for. Eddie spins around and your eyes meet. His expression softens as he studies you, you’ve been practically MIA for two months, so his surprise at seeing you out of your trailer is understandable.

“Hey!” A grin breaks out across his face. “You’re uh- you’re here.”

“Sure am.” His choice of words resonate with you, your biggest achievement over the past few weeks has just been staying here, taking each day one moment at a time. You place the copy of Escape From New York back in its place and turn to face him directly. His gaze flicks down momentarily to your overalls, where the slight curve of your belly is now filling out the denim fabric. His smile drops to an expression that you can only interpret as confusion, but without any traces of judgment or malice. You instinctively place a hand protectively on your stomach, biting the inside of your cheeks as you feel him studying you.

“And you are- I mean, you look- um, sorry? Are you-” Eddie trips over his words and can’t seem to decide if he should continue to look at you or not. You need to put him out of his misery, god knows he’s too much of a gentleman to assume someone is pregnant, lest he hurt their feelings. But the cogs are turning in his head, trying to choose his next words so carefully that it’s quite heartwarming.

“Pregnant? Yes, Munson. Don’t worry, your eyes don’t deceive you.” You stroll over to the counter to gather up the fresh returns. He continues to stand there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. 

“Holy shit- you’re pregnant? Like, for real?” You nod your head, shuffling through his film choices. You pull out his copy of Alien and flash it his way.

“I mean, could be a chest-burster. Guess I’ll just have to wait until it comes out.” 

You smile proudly at your own joke, but Eddie seems to be lost in his own world. He leans against the counter, and you join him hopping atop the surface to rest your feet. His dark brown eyes were now laced with concern, meeting with yours as the question slipped from his lips.

“Is it Steve’s?” It was the first time you’d properly heard his name in months, even Robin would cautiously avoid speaking about him unless you mentioned him (which you hadn’t). His name hits you like a tonne of bricks, but you kept your composure as you nodded your head. Eddie lets out a soft exhale, rubbing the back of his neck absent-mindedly.

“Wow.” He mutters under his breath.

“Yeah, wow.”

An oddly comfortable silence fills the air. As much as you love Robin’s company, seeing only her for the past two months has left you yearning for some outside contact. You’d pulled away completely from the gang after Steve’s death, so it felt nice to be around someone you called a friend again. And though you were yet to take him up on his offer, his kind words the night Steve vanished hadn’t gone unnoticed. He clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“So uh- good to see you back working again. I mean, Buckley loves giving me a hard time over my late returns…” He gestures to the scattered VHS tapes on the counter, and you let out a chuckle. 

“It’s alright, your secrets safe with me.” You give him a genuine smile as you begin organizing the tapes. 

“And you’re okay to be working on your feet like this? Y’know, with the whole-” He motions to your belly flippantly, the silver adorning his fingers catching your eye.

“It’s cool, Eddie. Robin’s practically chained me to this counter and insists on playing foreign films every day. Something about babies learning a second language in the womb.”

Eddie quirks his brow at your remark, a smile now growing on his face.

“‘Course she is.” The mess of curls fall around his face as he shakes his head, clearing his throat. “Well, you let me know if Keith is giving you any grief. Like, lunch breaks, or you need time off- all that shit. I can be quite…persuasive, y’know?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Eddie.”

He drums his hands against his thighs as he begins walking backwards towards the door, a smile now permanently plastered to his face. 

“I’ll see you round, then.”

“See you, Eddie.”

He swings open the front door, the bell above chiming away. But he stops in his tracks, giving the door frame a quick pat as he turns his focus back to you.

“Oh, uh- no pressure but Wayne was thinking of making spaghetti tonight, and Dustin’s coming over to help me on a new campaign. Never any room in our fridge for all the leftovers so- like, you’d be welcome to join if you didn’t feel like cooking after work or whatever-” Eddie rambles on, uncharacteristically nervous as fidgets with his rings. You smile warmly at his offer.

“I’m closing tonight, plus Robin dropped me some TV dinners the other day. But, can I take a raincheck on that?” 

A grin takes over Eddie’s face, cheeks dimpled as his posture relaxes.

“‘Course, you’re welcome anytime.”

By the time you’re pulling back into the trailer park, the sky has already begun to dim with a soft purple hue on the horizon. Your beat up Pinto rolls along the rough terrain, pulling into your makeshift driveway. Turning the engine off, you let out a sigh. The days are feeling longer, everything becoming more of an effort than usual. And you’re doing it all on your own. Shutting the car door behind you, you trudge along up your front steps to see a small tupperware container sitting on the welcome mat. You bend down and pick it up, the sensor light above you illuminating a sticky-note on top. Peeling it off, you read the scratchy writing on top:

Save your microwave meal for another night. I’ve heard babies need nutrients and protein and shit like that, so eat up. Eddie.

You chuckle at his brash choice of words, and glance over your shoulder to look at the Munson trailer. A bike is leaning against the front deck, which you’re positive is Dustin’s. A soft light beams through the living room window, the curtain moving slightly from the breeze of the evening. Gratitude fills your heart as you open your front door, entering your quiet trailer. 

Maybe you’re not as alone in all of this as you thought.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #pregnant!reader #stranger things fic #dumbslxtclub #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

[milqueandsugar]

Hello

could we have some short fluffy Drabble or headcanons about a sick revivebur? I mean, after escaping limbo, this man’s hypochondria must be ten times as bad. And after he gets sick, the reader (who he is in a relationship with, although it’s been cold and distant since his revival) starts acting very concerned and motherly— just starts pampering him. imagine cooling off one’s hands (with ice pack maybe) purely for the reason of holding it to a sick person’s overheating forehead. And etc.

just petting the whiny, skrunkly, sick rat of a man.

🏵 Your Tea Is Ready🏵

Warnings: mentions of sickness and death

Genre: hurt comfort (?)

| Honey makes the medicine go down Easy |

You press the back of your hand to feverish, sweaty skin, his dark curls tickling you as he attempts to turn away.

"You've got an awful fever." You fret, trying to turn his flushed face towards you.

"Yet I'm fucking freezing." He curses, finally relenting and letting you guise his face towards yours.

"How long have you been sick? Why didn't you call?" You push the hair that had begun to stick to his forehead back, he relaxes into your touch, fluid and maluable like wet clay. He smelled a bit like dirt too.

"I didn't want to bother. What good would it do anyway?" He blinks, his golden eyes reaching yours. It hurts, a sting, a cut to your already breaking heart by you swallow your pride. You swallow your anger.

"I'm here now, so let me help you, you look like you've got one foot in the grave-" He laughs, bitter but still a laugh. Maybe his fever was worse then you thought.

"That wasn't a joke, you look awful."

"What ever man wishes to hear from their partner."

Now it was your time to laugh. "Alright, settle down, I'll get you some water." You raise from the bed and leave the room, missing as just behind you he reaches for your arm, though never manages to get to you.

You return swiftly with a cup of warm sweetened tea and a cool wet cloth, by now he had abandoned all blankets from the bed, fanning himself.

"You don't have the fire going, do you?"

"No, not yet." You settle beside him, he turns his head lazily towards you, his hair looking particularly more wild then it did before you left.

"Here," you reach to place the wet cloth on his head, he flinches slightly, but eases as the cool water touches him. "Better?"

"A bit." He hummed, adjusting the rag further up his head. "It's going to soak the bed." He grumbled, a droplet of water already spilling down his cheek.

"You'll live." You tease, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Will I? you seem to be quite worried."

"It's my job to be worried."

"What a horrible job."

"It's not, not for you."

You smile, your hand coming to cup his cheek, you hesitate, but he does not. Pressing he face to your palm and kissing your wrist with all the affection his fever addled brain could manage.

"You spoil me." He sighs, his hand coming up to inter lock with yours.

"I treat you as you deserve. As anyone, deserves." You hum, squeezing his hand before bringing the tea cup to his lips.

"What is it?"

"Tea, it will help you sleep."

"Well isn't that ominous."

You roll your eyes, but after giving it a curious sniff, he takes a sip, then gulps the rest down.

"Can't be too ominous then?" You Muse, putting the tea cup aside. You can hear the smile in his voice as he replies.

"If ominimity tastes that good you must be pure horror."

You tilt your head. "I can't quite tell if that was a compliment." This time, he squeezes your hand.

"I can't either."

You press your fore head to his, before leaning away. "Get some sleep, poet, you're starting to sound like a mad man." He smiles, blinking slowly.

"Perhaps I am." His breathing slows.

"Perhaps you are." His eyes flutter closed.

"You'll stay?" His grip tightens, like a frightened child on their mothers skirt.

"Of course, I'll stay."

#dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #dsmp imagine #wilbur x reader #wilbur imagine #revivedbur x you #revivedbur x reader

[tht0nesimp]

Yandere Losers Club Headcanons

tw; kidnapping but like...less organized and only mentioned a little bit, manipulation, violence, drugging, hypochondria, forced religion,

-he is much to his dismay like his mom

-He's like a constant nurse, even when you promise your fine! Hitting your knee on a rock hurt for sure, but its not like your going to die..well hopefully not, maybe he's right? thoughts like those will become common as he worms his worries into your mind

-He's willing to share, but only with the club, he continues to promise that its what's best for you when he gives you a prescription of Cyclobenzaprine, just enough to not give you too much serotonin syndrome, but a little extra joy is normal! Not being able to get up just means he needs to get you another prescription or eight! You trust him, dont you?

-Eventually when you try to distance yourself, all the drugs hes been giving you, all the prescriptions you now dont take will come crashing down on you. Hes not going to necessarily mock you when the kidnapping happens and you go through extreme stress and withdrawl...but this wouldn't have happened if you!-

-He gets along best with stan and mike, since all three want what's best for you

-He has his problems with, surprisingly, bev. She got you hurt once and he still hasn't completely forgiven her though he will back her up when you try and vent to him about her manipulating you

-Your overreacting! hes hurt you think she would ever spread rumors about you when she was bullied herself. shame, shame, shame on you

-Manipulation to the max, she will make you want to spend time with her. There is no other option

-She's one of the more patient of the group though, when you finally start to distance yourself she will calmly help create a plan to help bring you home. You will inevitably be back after all whether its due to drug dependency or the loser club knocking you out on your way back from a party, is up to the universe

-She wouldnt hurt you to a certain point, if she believes its for the greater good then your tough out of luck. But she prefers to just make you feel guilty and dependent

-she gets along best with stan and ben, as the other two are too scared to stop her

-Hes...trying

-Its not that he doesnt want you to not be a tad scared of him, but you make it so difficult! I mean, hes the worst at hiding his tendencies about you

-He doesnt fully get why you get bothered when he curses out your crush? What could possibly be wrong?

-Dont worry, he would never hurt you EVER. Well, not on purpose, a few scrapes on an adventure is different!

-He gets along best with mike and bill, as they both enjoy going on adventures with you as well

-Eddie and him clash sometimes, mainly just because of eddies naturally overprotective nature around you getting hurt

-Mike is a bit more gentle, hes one of the few who feels guilt about what hes doing

-Hes also very jealous of the others at times, and although hed never take it out on you..sometimes he gets clingy when he thinks you might be prefering the others over him in any capacity of the sense

-It goes without saying that he wouldn't hurt you, but he cant bring himself to rat on the others when the kidnapping happens. He locks the guilt even further back in his mind at that point and refuses to acknowledge when you call them crazy

-He gets along best with eddie and bill, all three are deeply concerned for your safety just about constantly

-Pomegranate??? When he's especially feeling in debt to god for giving you to him, he encourages you to pray! before bed...when you wake up...before eating....whenever you feel like leaving him...yknow when you should be grateful for things!

-If your not super religious he's...ok with that. Sometimes he may wish you were willing to engage with that stuff but he tries not to bring it up too much

-Besides that, hes somewhat tame. But he doesn't feel guilty

-He goes with the vibe of the group so if you do something wrong or when the kidnapping comes around and they feel you need repercussions he's not going to stand up for you but he wont be cruel to you

-He gets along well with bill and mike, theyre all pretty chill with you

-You wont know hes a yandere unless they kidnap you, he's a scrawny little guy with a stutter who is barely keeping on after georgie's death...do your really think hed ever do stuff like that?!

-You help him with his stutter, your one of the big reason he tries to overcome it when hes a bit older

-Theres not much he does besides a bit of manipulation about him feeling guilty for what happened to his brother, after all, who wouldn't feel bad for this poor guy!

-He gets along best with bev, they both like each other...and you so it works out for them to share you

#yandere IT #yandere losers club #yandere stephen king #yandere bill denbruough #yandere richie tozier #yandere eddie kaspbrak x reader #yandere mike hanlon #yandere stanley uris #yandere beverly marsh #CandiesActualFics