#How can I lower my blood pressure immediately today?

[sachinbiher]

रक्तचाप क्या है || रक्तचाप का नियंत्रण कैसे करें।

रक्तचाप क्या है रक्तचाप शरीर के रक्त के दबाव को निर्दिष्ट करने वाला एक माप है। यह दबाव दो अंकों के रूप में मापा जाता है। उच्च रक्तचाप एक सामान्य स्वास्थ्य समस्या होती है जो बीमारी या मृत्यु की एक प्रमुख वजह होती है। उच्च रक्तचाप अक्सर किसी अन्य समस्या का एक लक्षण होता है जैसे अस्थमा, मधुमेह और अन्य रोग। उच्च रक्तचाप के कुछ सामान्य लक्षण हैं जिनमें शामिल हैं: तनाव, चक्कर आना, सिरदर्द, निंद ना आना,…

[matenrou-fan]

three seperate scenario of toki, jakurai, ichiro waking up really horny and slowly fucking their s/o? she is laying in front of them and they lift her leg to slip in from behind (but it's not anal lol!)

uhhh I am so so sorry idk any pthing about OM so i can't request :(

Samatoki, Jakurai, Ichiro with fem!s/o (+morning sex)

femreader, humping, fingering (receiving), rough sex;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

-Despite he's such an overprotective softie in relationships, there's also a pretty naughty side of him, so Samatoki never would be that ashamed of seeing some wet dreams that involve you, he's only enjoying it. But it's really rare when he wakes up that horny after such a good sleep.

-But it's actually neither the first nor last time he felt such desire after lewding you in dreams. If you sleep at this moment, he prefers to just go to the bathroom and calm himself down, but sometimes it's really too much and his own hand won't help. Just like today, a copy of you in his mind was just too bold in his fantasies.

-So Samatoki just move to your closer, hugging from behind. He probably should do the opposite, as the soft scent of your warm skin just makes his dick twitch more, but he can't, it's like his hands freeze around your waist the second he wraps his arms around your body.

-"Babe.. Babe, are you sleeping?" - A low, hoarse after night voice slowly wakes you up, and even while being so sleepy, you can't help but notice how hot it actually sounds. - "Heh, what with this smile? You already know what I want?"

-Of course you know, because as soon as you open your eyes and look at the pale face of your boyfriend, his hands lowered to your hip. Oh, and you can feel this pressure against your butt when he leans closer to your smaller figure.

-But no matter how horny Samatoki are, he wants to heat your mind too, playing with your body a little before actually pushing himself inside. His arms already know all your sensitive places, squeezing your nipples between fingers while his glans stroking your folds through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

-During casual sessions your boyfriend loves to make you the one to whine for more, yet today there's not that much patience in his nerves. So pretty soon, when his dick would slowly soak in your juices, Samatoki finally pulled down your shorts and slowly but surely thrust in till the very end.

-Getting too carried away is definitely one of the points in the list of bad habits of your boyfriend.. As he doesn't give a single fuck about how many responsibilities and tasks waits for him outside your shared bedroom, he wouldn't stop until you two get enough of each other bodies.

-And trust me, as soon as you start calling his name in such a desperate voice, all last thought would fade away from his mind as Samatoki just wants to keep pounding you senseless.

-For him, it's very unusual to suddenly feel such an unsuppressable urge, especially early in the morning, when he just wakes up and immediately starts thinking about you and your body, sleeping next to him.

-A usual morning routine for Jakurai is to get up and check his blood pressure and temperature, yet today there's another problem that needs to be solved - his half hardened dick, that keeps pulsing in his home shorts.

-He probably should just quickly take a shower and deal with his fantasies all alone? Yet even for someone with great patience and self-control as Jakurai, it's kinda hard to resist this wish to touch your shoulder or to lean closer to your smooth hair. The sweet aroma of your shampoo is so luring..

-Small, light kisses on the neck would quickly wake you up, and only after that Jakurai would cling closer, wrapping his hands around your waist. Some deep shame would tickle his chest, aren't he too old to be so needy? Yet it feels like words escape his lips faster than he was able to think about them properly.

-"Ah.. Good morning, my dear.. The morning has just begun, but I think I'm already falling for your charm again.." - your lover whispers right in your ear, sending electric waves of goosebumps down your spine. - "So I hope you will forgive me for such impudence.."

-Even in an internal frenzy, Jakurai so soft and loving, thinking about your pleasure even more than about his own, as he doesn't want to just use you. Despite waking up absolutely hungry for your body, there's an even bigger appetite for intimate emotions in his soul, the real connection..

-So everything would be gentle and passionate, as always when Jakurai is being a dom. Preparing you long and well with his slim fingers, while you pressing your back to his warm chest, mewling in pleasure.. Sweet nothings and small praises in your ear as he slowly slides inside, pushing your clenching walls.

-And of course so much attention to your lips, chest and clit, as he slowly starts trusting in, enjoying the wet tightness of your pussy. Only your ardent reaction through small whimpers and lazily, but needy movements of your hips makes his arousal stronger. Only your desire raises his desire to the highest point.

-How lucky you both are, to not have any work shifts today.. As it seems Jakurai wouldn't have enough of your adorable morning cumming face after just one round.

-Well.. Even in his pure mind sometimes can awoke a few naughty thoughts, especially when he can't control his mind and it shows him the deepest desires of his soul.

-And probably the one who would wake up first today would be you, as these desperate whimpers behind you get too loud, and his arms trembling so much as Ichiro cling closer to you, shyly calling your name through sweet dreams.

-How can you not tease him a little? Leaning back to press yourself to his shaking with deep, unsteady breaths, chest. Maybe whisper his name a few times too, while wiggling your hips a bit to grind back, rubbing against a hard twitching bulge in his pajama pants.

-"M.. S/o, s/o, I'm so close.." - a sudden loud gasp breaks from his chest as Ichiro finally wakes up with a nagging ache between his thighs and notices your sly grin. - "A-ah, s/o, g-good morning…! Did I wake you up…?"

-He always feels so ashamed when you catch him like that! Yet sometimes it feels like his dick gets even harder in such situations, happy to finally get more attention. And the way you coo at your boyfriend, willing to help with such a shameful urge drew him to follow this primal instinct.

-The dream is so realistic but never enough, and he's too hungry for just the warmth of your skin and the sweet odours of your body. So for a few minutes Ichiro just wants to feel you more, to calm down his tickling mind through hot kisses and libidinous foreplay with your chest, while his dick keeps humping against your hips so fast and needy.

-And oh how amusing yet arousing his groans sound when his trembling hand finally lifts your leg, allowing him to slip in. For a moment he just froze in place, as he always does after getting inside you fully, just enjoying how pulses of your walls wrapped around his whole length.

-And after that.. Some unsteady, sloppy movements, that quickly speed up as Ichiro whines more and more right in your ear just how tight you are early in the morning. Just how good it feels, to be greeted with your delicious pussy like that. Best wake up in his life.

-God.. Just how lucky you're that both Jiro and Saburo stayed overnight in their friends houses, as these loud slaps of hips to hips and weak but loud high pitched moans would be heard all over the house for a whole morning today.

[leasstories]

Everyone deserves to live

Based on the prompt: “I’m scared you will hurt yourself even more.” By @creativepromptsforwriting.

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Trigger warnings: Mentions of failed attempts, blood, self-harm,

WC:  1K

You currently are – well were- in remission from self harm. But something happened today at school, Jason and his goons might have told you that a freak like you didn’t deserve to live.

They hit a sensitive spot and they knew it before the words left their mouth. It is purposefully why they said it.

You don’t mind being called a freak. The second part is what struck a nerve. You also don’t think you deserve to live. You have ended up in the hospital several times from trying to take the easy way out. Jason knows, hell the entire school knows about your failed attempts. This is how, you have ended up at the pic-nick table behind the football field, relapsing.

You took out a pencil sharpener, the only thing that you had on you, to create angry red marks on your already scarred skin.

Eddie found you a few moments later, arms bleeding, sobbing, and cutting yourself at the pic-nick table. Eddie runs to you, panic etched on his face.

“Sweetheart…” he says, voice breaking and willing himself not to cry.

You raise your eyes towards Eddie, not stopping the cutting. When your eyes meet Eddie’s, they well up in tears.

Eddie softly lowers your hand holding the blade before taking the bloody pencil sharpener blade in his own hands.

“What happened?” he asks, worried and fumbling with the bandana in his back pocket to take it off.

You shake your head, still crying. “I’m so sorry…” you repeat over and over. Eddie gently takes your arm and wrap it up with the bandana which is immediately soaked with blood.

Eddie’s heart breaks at seeing you like this. He cups your face in his big warm hands and make you look at him.

“Hey, hey stop apologizing. Breathe baby, breathe.” Eddie says as calmly as he can.

You follow Eddie’s breathing patterns which helps you calm down a bit. While you try to calm down, Eddie puts some pressure on your bandana covered arm to help the bleeding stop.

“What happened?” he asks again.

“Does it matter?” you ask, sniffling.

“It matters to me.” Eddie answers seriously. “You were doing so good baby; I need to know what triggered it.”

“I just relapsed because I’m weak.” You shrug.

“Baby… I’ve been here every step of the way, even in the end it wasn’t that bad. I need to know what happened. I’m scared you’ll hurt yourself even more.” Eddie says, concerned.

You sniffle once more. “Jason said something to me and it… it kinda got to me, I guess?” you say not going into any more details.

“What did he say?” Eddie asks, starting to get angry.

“It doesn’t matter…” you say not wanting to make Eddie angry even more.

“Sweetheart, it made you relapse so of course it matters. What did that dickhead say to you?” Eddie asks again.

You look at the ground. “He said out loud what people think, what I think… He said and I quote ‘a freak like you does not deserve to live’.”

Eddie clenches his jaw hard, getting angrier by the second.

“He said what?” Eddie asks, trying to keep his cool in front of you. The last thing you need right now is him being angry and he knows that. He knows that you need someone there for you right now. You need love and reassurance not hatred directed at stupid Jason Carver.

“The truth.” You say.

“Stop that baby. You deserve to live. First of all, everyone deserves to live. Secondly, you are an amazing, strong person. You are loved and you disappearing would break people’s heart. It would break my heart.” He says, rubbing your hand with his thumb.

You start sobbing again and as you do, Eddie helps you up and lead you to his van.

He drives the both of you to his trailer and sits you on his bed. Eddie runs to the bathroom, he takes some antiseptic, gauze as well as bandages and comes back into his bedroom to tend to your wounds.

Eddie starts by taking the bandana off of your bleeding arm before putting some antiseptic on the gauze.

Eddie can see that while he puts the antiseptic on your wounds, you won’t look at him. He knows you well and he knows you are ashamed.

“Baby, there is nothing to be ashamed of.” He says softly.

As you don’t answer, Eddie keeps going.

“I am going to help you, I’m here for you baby. We are going to start over, take baby steps, ‘kay?” Eddie tells you reassuringly.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Eddie throws the used gauze in the bin and bandages your arm.

“All bandaged up!” he says, kissing the bandage.

“Thank you.” You sincerely say, still avoiding Eddie’s gaze.

“You know I’ll be here every step of the way, right?” Eddie tells you sincerely, looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“I know… thank you and sorry again.” You say still looking at your knees.

“Ice cream and a movie?” Eddie asks.

You nod. Eddie and you spent the night at his place and he has been nothing but sweet. He kept taking care of you and promised he is not mad at you. He kept repeating that he is proud of how long you’ve been self-harm free before the relapse and tells you how you can do it again. Your grateful to have Eddie in your life. He never judged you once, always there to listen, to try to understand and to support you through it all. You know today has been hard on him as well, you know how worried he is about you, so when he falls asleep, his warm breath fanning over your skin, you smile before kissing his forehead.

“Thank you,” you whisper before closing your eyes.

[tommyarashikage]

WIP it's still Wednesday somewhere in the world

hello everyone today I am sharing some writing from my wips and music as I was tagged by the beloveds @socially-awkward-skeleton @kyber-infinitygems @inafieldofdaisies @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn @voidika @corvosattano and @nightbloodbix for music monday and wip wednesday, thank you all so much 💜🧡

tagging (opt in/out): @risingsh0t @carlosoliveiraa @onehornedbeast @finding-comfort-in-rain @josephslittledeputy @aceghosts @thedeadthree @shadowglens @purplehairsecretlair @fourlittleseedlings @strangefable @leviiackrman @roofgeese @captastra @gwynbleidd @ri-a-rose

only have original stuff yet again. BUT also for the last time, me thinks. I came to the conclusion that I really can't write out of order because I need to know what happened before the scene I'm writing for it all to make sense

the first is for Snowfall! if there was a stripped version of this song it'd be even more perfect. this is chapter??? i don't even know but it's called the wolf and the pup 🤠

“Don’t be afraid. The bad men are gone now.”

“Did you send them away?”, the boy asks, his voice is very weak.

Sean looks around him. The corpses are far from the vehicle, out of eyesight. The darkness and fog created by the rain form an extra layer of cover up. He answers with a soft “Yes.”

The boy is hesitant but eventually gets up and starts moving in Sean’s direction. His steps are careful but also strangely heavy. Only now does Sean think about everything Sól’s son must’ve gone through these past few days. Hunted by the police, criminals… and him.

No one told him. If he knew… If only he knew. Why didn’t she tell him?

The boy must be tired by now. Scared too. Who can blame him.

Sean kneels down to be face to face with the boy. “Toby, is it?”, he asks in a calm tone.

“I want my mommy.” He most likely tried to sound demanding, but his voice is shaking. From the cold the rain brings? Or out of fear? Both thoughts sting into Sean’s heart, making it ache for a short moment. He remembers all too well how the boy is feeling now. He was just a child.

“I’ll take you to her”, Sean says and offers his hand to him. Said boy did not jump out of the vehicle yet.

Toby doesn’t acknowledge the gesture. “I wait for her.”

The man sighs and lowers his view. The rain washed most of the dirt and blood off his hand, but a stain remains. Sól’s words haven’t left his mind. What if she’s right? The one thing he swore to never become. And yet.

To make sure that doesn’t happen he clenches his hand into a fist. And he keeps the distance to the boy. The last thing Sean wants is to pressure him. A helping hand can seem a lot scarier to a frightened mind.

“You’re a Guevara, kid. Do you know what that means?”

Toby keeps silent.

“It means you’re not safe out here on your own.” His own words drive him to uneasiness. As he scans the area for any new threats, he notices just how heavy the rainfall has become. The white noise was completely drowned out during their conversation. “Those men that took you away from your mother did so on purpose. And they’ll come back for you.”

Toby doesn’t ask why. Instead, his view drifts off, focusing on something in the distance. Then, he crouches, ready to jump out of the vehicle.

Carefully, Sean gets back up and out of the way to give the boy some space.

With a loud splat Toby’s feet meet the ground. And within a heartbeat he starts running.

It comes unexpected. Sól was never one to run from her problems; the most important rule in her life. No, this is more like…

He sighs while his view follows the boy. It leaves him feeling a certain way he hasn’t felt in a very long time; empty.

So this is what it’s like.

the second one is for Outer Rim. the song captures the girls whole nature and vibe perfectly. also I'm on my hands and knees, this one is even longer, I'm so sorry

She turns the corner while looking behind her and immediately bumps into something. The sudden impact makes her stumble a few steps back and leaves her in surprise rather than any pain. As she spots the gear, she realizes who she just walked into. Her heart starts racing, almost bursting out of her chest. She doesn’t know what feeling is overtaking her right now — fear or embarrassment.

Jaye quickly averts her gaze, staring at the floor, slightly bent forward and swallows hard. It stings due to her mouth going dry in no time. Still, she apologizes. At least that’s what she wants to do but her thoughts aren’t calming down. Only the first syllable escapes her mouth, the rest is missing. As if her knowledge of the Japanese language was just erased from her mind.

“It’s alright”, he says. This is the first time Jaye has heard one of them speak something else besides Japanese. “No harm done.” His voice doesn’t sound muffled, either. Which leads her to believe he isn’t wearing his mask right now. Something she also hasn’t ever witnessed from either of them.

Despite the heartbeat in her ears, Jaye feels a tingling sensation running down her back. Which one is it? She has made the mistake of looking both of them in the eyes before. Hold the gaze for too long and it will aggravate them like the guard dogs they are.

Jaye closes her eyes shut in embarrassment. To not waste more of his time, she forces her legs to start moving again, past the guard, leaving him behind her.

“Wait.”

She stops in her tracks, as does her heart. And here she thought Jack was exaggerating when he said they can smell fear.

She quickly goes over every possible offence she could have caused and every possible way this could end. The overdose of terrible thoughts in this short amount of time isn’t helping in calming her down but only making it worse, resulting in every breath she takes shaking more than the last.

The woman fumbles with her hands, which have become sweaty by now. Before she grows the courage to turn around, Jaye swallows the lump in her throat. This will hopefully make it easier to actually speak if needed.

When she finally faces the man again, she looks right into his eyes. Ryōichi. A longer face and eyes slightly narrower than those of the other guard. In this lighting, his brown irises seem a lot bigger, soft almost.

Like a slap to the face, she realizes that she’s just standing there, staring at the man. All while he’s holding something out to her. The recording device Jack gave her. She dropped it. At this point her heart should’ve sent her into cardiac arrest. As if she wasn’t already visibly nervous enough, her hand shakes heavily when she reaches for the device.

She pulls it close, looking it over quickly as she does. To regain at least some of her courage, Jaye breathes in deeply. Then she looks at the guard again and whispers out a ‘thank you’.

Ryōichi smiles at her — for the first time — as if she is some odd little creature. “どういたしまして” You’re welcome.

A sudden noise startles both of them. The mechanical sound creates an illusion of a threatening growl as it reverberates through the dimly lit hallway.

Thud after heavy thud slowly approaches them until a big red light appears. The optic of one of Eden’s security robots. Jaye doesn’t need to look twice to recognize him. Unit C — Crossbones.

His head slightly moves to look down at Ryōichi. And the way the bot holds his gaze, he’s obviously expecting some kind of action taken by the human guard. However, said human never interacts with the bots and probably can’t interpret the gesture as such.

Another mechanic threat emits from Crossbones, immediately followed by him drawing his gun and pointing it at the guard.

As if struck by lightning, Jaye jumps between the bot and the human, trying to push his gun away.

“Bones, no! What are you doing?”

The bot doesn’t give in, his red eye still focused on Ryōichi.

Eden’s mechanical security only acts up like this whenever a drunken customer gets lost on the girl’s floor. Perhaps he thinks Jaye was in danger. Though their perception usually isn’t this… lousy.

Jaye closes her eyes for a second, like she could calm the bot down alongside herself. “He was just helping me. I’m fine.”

Silence. Followed by clicking noises. He’s processing. Thinking? His optic moves to look Jaye over. Scanning for her vitals or any injuries, most likely.

Another second of silence before his gun reconstructs itself back into his left arm and hand. “No imminent danger detected.”

Ryōichi curses under his breath. In her periphery Jaye spots his hands slowly move from his weapons that remained holstered.

“For now”, Crossbones adds.

The human guard scoffs.

“Bones, what’s come over you?”, the girl asks.

The bot takes a moment before answering. “Our sensors have registered a violation. We had to intervene.”

“Of what?”, Ryōichi asks with slight worry in his tone.

“Confidential.”

Jaye sighs in annoyance.

It’s enough to put the guard on edge. He immediately gets in contact with his colleague, asking what happened and where he and Miyako are. His voice dies out after he leaves Jaye’s sight. Now it’s just her and Crossbones left.

The bots must follow their programming of course. Jaye isn’t too familiar with it. Not at all, actually. It’s not like Jack would allow her to have a look at it. But the general basics she knows of. Their task is obvious, though she wonders why it had to be bots and not more guards like Ryōichi and Shōji. Two is an odd number for a huge place like Eden.

[thegodmother007]

My New Neighbor

This is my first time really giving writing G/t content a try. The concept is that this is a newly integrated world where both Giants & Humans co-exist...or at least they try to as much as they can.

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

Chapter: Prologue - The City of Epherton ��

My heart was in my throat as I watched…no felt them walk by the coffee shop I was ordering a chai latte in. I looked around to the other patrons in the coffee shop to see that no one else in line seemed to notice it as much as I did. I looked around the café while I waited for my name to be called, to see how others might be reacting to the tremors but everyone was still preoccupied with their own drinks, the works on their laptops or even chatting with friends. It was like I imagined the tremors that emitted from the floor, but I know I hadn’t, not in this city. As my adrenaline levels lowered, I focused on keeping my breathing rhythmic & steady, trying to keep myself looking cool & collected, like I belonged here.

“CAIN!” Yelled the middle aged ginger woman sliding my chai latte across the counter to the pick-up area, spiking my blood pressure once more. However, looking at my drink made it a lot easier to calm down, as I had something else to focus on. I could immediately taste the warm cinnamon & cloves taking the first sip which got a relaxed, deep sigh from me; one I had been holding onto for the last hour. The train ride in was anxiety inducing as it was, but to actually be here, was a whole new experience. As I exited the coffee shop, I put my sunglasses on & pulled my beanie down, keeping my eyes straight forward in an attempt not to gawk at the enormous humanoid figures across the street. This is my first time visiting Epherton, so I did not want to make any trouble for myself by offending anyone. 

Walking down the street & to my appointment, I could not help but allow myself a glance or two at the giants that seemed to surround me & the other Humans who walked the sidewalk. When I did look up, I could feel my stomach drop into my shoes, watching these giants boldly exist in front of me, an embarrassing reaction to something it seems most humans here have become okay with. I could see people, no, giants, ignoring us who walk across the street, laughing and having lives like regular people. It was weird to watch them like I was some fly on the wall, but reminded myself very quickly not to be caught staring at them, per the suggestion of all my friends and family. For every 10-Humans, there was only 1 giant, so although we outnumbered them 10 to 1, it did not matter in my eyes. One giant could take down hundreds of Humans if they really wanted to, and many have. It is why this city is so special, because it allows for an integrated existence for both Humans & giants. It is the first of its kind to ever exist, “Epherton: A City of the Future” many called it, but I deemed it a place I would circumvent until I no longer could & today was the day I could no longer avoid it. 

So then, why am I here at all? Well, the housing market is garbage & I am a 21 yr old who can’t afford much. This town is full of young people, giant & Human alike, looking to plant roots & start lives of their own. Like so many others in this city, I am looking for affordable housing & I am weighing my options by exploring the Integration Housing Program that Epherton is offering. I am not unique in my reason for being here, from what I am observing, but I am unique in my attitude towards them. However, that is something I plan on keeping to myself for now. After about a 20min walk, I find myself at the Human entrance of the government sanctioned apartment building where I will be inquiring about the Integration Housing Program. I looked at the other side of the property, which was sectioned off with a 10ft concrete wall, but that hardly would stop any giant if they wanted to just step over it. I look to see giants coming & going on the other side of the property. There is a man holding the apartment door open for a giantess who has her hands full with a box of some sort, there is a gardener who is trimming some trees which are being used for décor & a giant man smoking on his balcony. It was pretty humdrum activity for beings who were easily towering at 60-85ft respectively. I shuttered a little bit before steeling my nerves once again, reminding myself to play it cool if I want a chance at this program. I opened the door to a fluorescent-lit office space with a wall lined with bronze lock & key mail boxes, a buzzing from the ventilation system & a shiny waxed floor I could almost see my reflection in. I approach the front desk with a false bravado & cheap smile “Hello, I am here for a 1:00pm apartment tour for Cain Wagner?” The front desk attendant, a portly, older man with a graying mustache and balding head sits up with a smile “Welcome to Hedge Heights, I will be your guide this afternoon!” 

[triforce-of-mischief]

ok kids, it's time to get some facts straight about the pediatrician.

as a big sister with a history of trypanophobia and related medical trauma, i don't want anybody else to go through what i did. these may not technically be examples of classic abuse, but too many factors of my trauma have been normalized to the point that i didn't question any of it until i was in college. if it's safe for you to do so, please talk to a trusted adult if you can relate to any of these issues. you deserve to be treated right 💜

one more note: "kid" refers to anybody visiting the pediatrician, everybody up to 18 years old usually

normal: a kid is nervous about going to the doctor

not normal: a kid suffers from chronic nightmares, anxiety, and panic attacks for a prolonged amount of time (weeks before an appointment, years after a traumatic visit)

normal: a kid has high blood pressure when entering the doctor's office due to anxiety

not normal: a nurse lies to a kid ("you won't need vaccines today") in an attempt to lower their blood pressure

normal: a kid is given a consent form asking if they're comfortable with the doctor checking their private parts

not normal: a kid's guardian forces them to sign "yes" and consent to the doctor checking their private parts

normal: a doctor asks a kid's guardian to leave the room for a few minutes during the exam so the kid can ask questions they don't feel comfortable asking around their guardian

not normal: a kid's guardian is not asked to leave the room during the exam, and the kid is not given the opportunity to ask questions they don't feel comfortable asking around their guardian

normal: a kid is scared of vaccines, and resorts to their 'fight reflex'

not normal: a kid is not taught any coping strategies for fear or offered any comfort during a scary procedure

normal: a kid is hugged or held by their guardian (or even a nurse) during a scary procedure

not normal: a kid is immediately pinned down/physically restrained by their guardian and/or one or more nurses during a scary procedure

^note: this will be near-impossible to negotiate during the procedure, as fear and logic do not mix well. if you can, try to make a plan before an appointment with your trusted adult in case you panic before/during a procedure so their first resort isn't to restrain you

normal: a kid is comforted and their fear is validated after a scary procedure

not normal: a kid is invalidated, shamed, and ridiculed for their fear, privately or publicly

ideal: if a kid is anxious about vaccines, they will receive them at the beginning of the exam or on a separate day entirely so their nerves do not interfere with the appointment

not ideal: vaccines are always administered at the end of the appointment, prolonging a kid's anxiety and messing with their mood and responses during the exam

^note: this may be even harder to negotiate, as your trusted adult may not want to schedule an extra appointment and the nurses will likely be rigid in their routine

remember: your feelings are valid, your trauma is real, and your consent is yours to give. no matter how young you are, your rights shouldn't be buried under people believing that you're just a kid who doesn't know better. i may not always have advice, but i'm here if you need somebody who can sympathize 💜

[landosgirl97]

Heart Rate - Bradley Bradshaw

A/N: This could maybe have a part 2 if y’all want one. Let me know.

After Bradley and Maverick got back from the uranium mission and after a massive celebration on the tarmac, they sent Mav and Bradley to the local base hospital. After they were both ejected from aircrafts, it was Navy policy that they be evaluated regardless of if they looked fine or not. So, when they two men had showered and changed, they were driven to the hospital to be checked out. Maverick went first, leaving Bradley alone in the waiting room. “Bradley?” He heard a voice call. He turned around in his seat and saw a beautiful young nurse, (Y/E/C) shining and hair down, but partially pinned back out of her face. She had on seafoam colored, hospital given scrubs, that somehow hugged her body really well. She called again, “Bradley?” He stood, making his way toward her. “You’re Bradley?” He nods his head slowly, following you back so he’s sitting on the gurney behind a curtain. “So, please state your full name and date of birth before we get started.” He does, and you hand him a gown. “Ok, change out of your clothes and into the gown. You can keep you boxers on, I’ll be back here in a few minutes to get your vitals.” He just nods as you leave the room, closing the curtain behind her. Bradley let out a breath he had been holding and shook his head.

You knocked on the doorframe and heard a shaky, “come in”. You made your way inside, putting hand sanitizer on and walking toward him. “You seem nervous. I take it that you don’t spend much time in hospital?” He huffs out a laugh. “Nope. I spend most of my time in the air or at the Hard Deck.” You raise a brow. “Oh? Are you one of those naval aviator heroes from today?” A blush crossed his cheeks as he looked down, fiddling with the edge of the gown and nodding. “Wow, I’m honored to be working with you! So, first we are going to check you oxygen level and pulse, then I’ll move on to your blood pressure, then the doctor will come in and do a physical and you’re free to go! It should be quick and painless!” He nods, letting you hook him up to the wires and monitors and the bed. He clears his throat, “So, how long have you been a nurse?” You smile down at the cords you’re attaching lead patches to him to check his heart rhythm and rate. “Well, four almost five years in May.” He raises his eyebrow. “How old are you?” You chuckle. “I’m 25, almost 26.” He shakes his head and watches as you finish with the leads. “Ok Bradley, I need to untie the back of your gown for a moment so I can place these on your chest. Is that okay?” He nods his head, leaning forward for you to untie it. He shrugs the gown lower on his shoulders so it falls lower, showing his chest. Your breath hitches as you take in the sight before you. A very toned chest and abdomen with taut muscles and little tufts of chest hair. When he moves his arms to pull them out of the sleeves, you have to stop yourself from drooling at the sight of his biceps tensing. You don’t realize you’ve been caught staring unto your eyes trail up his neck, his sharp jawline and red cheeks to meet his eyes. You clear your throat, hoping he didn’t catch you staring for too long and you begin to tear the backs off of the leads. “Ok, so I’m going to place these on your chest and ribs, and then we will check your heart rate. Bradley was hoping you didn’t notice the goosebumps that raised on his skin when you touched his chest. You turned around to turn the monitor on, noticing the beeping immediately. “Looks like one of the leads isn’t securely on. I’m going to need to fix it. Is that okay?” Bradley nods again, gulping as your hands move back to his chest. You listened as you fixed the lead again, waiting for the dinging to stop. It did, but his heart rate increased rapidly. You turned to look at the monitor, “Hmm, your heart rate is pretty high, we are going to have to monitor that. Let me get your blood pressure and then I’ll get doctor.” You walk to him, wrapping the cuff around his large bicep and pressing the button for his blood pressure. You hear the cuff start to inflate and walk back to your computer, inserting his vitals for the doctor to see when she comes in. When his blood pressure reading is on the screen, you insert it into the computer and walk back to Bradley. “Okay Lieutenant, I’ll be back in a bit. Here’s your call light if you need anything.” “Thank you…” “Y/N.” You finish for him, smiling and walking out the curtain to get Dr. Brady. You let doc know about his heart rate and had her head in to check on him, sitting at your computer to finish some charting.

Some time later, Dr. Brady poked her head out of the curtain. “Y/N, can you come help me for a second?” I wondered what she needed my help with but proceeded anyway. I walked in the room and noticed her bandaging some small cuts on his face. “Okay, Lieutenant, that’s one side down, let’s get this other one finished and we will let you leave.” He nods, watching the doctor hand you some bandages. “Can you add some Steri-strips over that gash on his eyebrow?” I look at her curiously and she just smirked at you before continuing her work. You worked on a pair of gloves,then carefully took the Steri-strips off the packaging and made sure his skin was lined up correctly before placing them down. You hadn’t noticed that his heart rate shot back up with your hands on him again, but he had as he held his breath waiting for you to notice. You never did, but Dr. Brady did. When she finished with his other side, she pulled you aside. “I think I’ve figured out the heart rate problem..” she stated, looking at you expectantly. You looked at her curiously. “Without an EKG or anything? You’re good! What is it?” She rolls her eyes at your obliviousness and grips both of your shoulders lightly. “It’s you. When you’re in the room, especially touching him, it skyrockets. It was fine the whole time I was in there until I called you back in.” You looked at her stunned. “There’s no way that’s true.” She shakes her head and hands you a pen. “He has discharge instructions that need printed. I suggest you add your phone number to the bottom of that paperwork.” She winks at you and makes her way to the next patient.

It wasn’t until Bradley left the hospital with Maverick that he checked his paperwork. A large smile spreading across his face when he realized what was happening.

Y/N

789-234-0123

Call me, Lieutenant. Xx

[atzfilm]

as the world caves in (m); ten

pairing; hongjoong x reader, mingi x reader, ? x reader

word count; 6.1k

genre/warnings; fantasy-ish, apocalyptic au, angst, fluff, blood(a lot), weapons, miscommunication, bullying, death mention, blood, cutting finger (slightly descriptive), anxiety mention

summary; a mysterious virus has taken over the world, resulting in the undead and the new ‘eden race’ of humans. desperately trying to find your brother jongho with your friends, you stumble across another group in an abandoned hospital tent. strangely, they’re looking for him as well.

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Chapter 10:

"Ready?" Wooyoung stands at the door, head turned to Hongjoong. They've packed up in no time, only four bags between all of you. You stand, ignoring the shot of pain in your stomach. There's time to complain once you're on the road, far away from this place. You hold the keys between your fingers, debating on how you should approach this. By now, Mingi must have told the others about what happened. Yunho expressed that you are free to leave whenever you like, but with information like this… You're not sure what your standing is with them now. The four of you know too much about them. They could inform other government agents about what transpired here.

Wooyoung grips his shotgun, eyes on the door. "Plan?"

"Get out. If they want to talk, let them talk. But we're leaving today, whether they like it or not," Hongjoong holds a pistol in his hands, knives tucked away in holders on his hips. You have a few on you as well, in case things go sideways. But all of you want to avoid fighting. There's already enough killing going around as it is.

"I should have let him speak," you say after a moment, staring at the door. "I fucked it up, didn't I?"

“If someone ever told me they worked for the government, I’d fuck off out of there too, love. Don’t put this pressure on yourself when it doesn’t need to be there. Now that we know, it’s a strong possibility that they weren’t going to let us go without a fight. Who knows what they wanted with Jongho. It makes sense why they’re so desperate to find him again,” San says softly. He holds his bat, balancing it on his palm. "Don't know what Mingi's plan was when he gave that letter to you, but it's not necessary information anymore. Jongho wrote that letter telling us to high tail out of here. He was with them for five years, I doubt he'd just write that to make shit up. Especially when it comes to family."

Wooyoung’s eyes slide to you, "You alright? You look pale."

You nod, "Fine." Your voice is low. Ignoring the pain in your side will only make things worse, but you want to leave. Staying another night with people who work for the government just isn't an option. Not after everything. "We just need to go."

Hongjoong nods, moving closer to you. Wooyoung glances at all of you before swinging open the door, shotgun aimed outside. He's first to walk out, San close behind. Hongjoong moves when you do, hand hovering but not touching you. Despite everything, you're thankful to have him next to you. You step outside first, stopping immediately once you see what's in front of you.

The four of them stand there. Eyes on Wooyoung’s gun. Their gazes slide to you, Hongjoong moving closer when he sees their line of sight shift. Mingi is the only one not meeting your gaze, standing just behind Yunho. They seem to surround the entrance to the door in a half circle formation. Waiting for the four of you to leave the farmhouse. You grip your knife on your side, eyes narrowing as you meet Yunho’s gaze. He holds his hands up in surrender, eyes flicking to Hongjoong.

“We aren’t here to kill you. You can lower the gun.”

“Not a chance,” Wooyoung scoffs, holding it steady. “I’m not gonna drop my guard for some government agents.”

“Former agents. We aren’t part of them anymore. Haven’t been for a little over four years now. We’ve moved past that point in our lives. If you would just let us explain why we were, and why we gave it up.”

Hongjoong steps forward, blocking your view completely. San lingers back slightly, taking his place next to you. “Why? Why should we let you explain how you were part of the people who killed hundreds of thousands of normal, breathing humans? Why should we pretend to care about anything you say? Your people killed my parents, Yunho. My family. I don’t give a shit about why you joined it and why you didn’t, because that isn’t my problem. What my problem is is all of you blocking our way to the cars.”

“You’re not taking a car,” Seonghwa laughs, shaking his head.

“Hyung,” Yunho says, before looking at all of you. “How about this - you let us explain ourselves, and if it doesn’t match up to your standards, you can take one of the cars and leave. Clean break.” He keeps his hands up in the air, head tilting so that his gaze meets yours. The warmth that you’ve grown accustomed to seeing is still there despite the circumstances. You wonder if it’s always been a façade to keep you there. Are his words true? Will they let any of you go? You ponder for a moment, San rolling his eyes.

“And why should we believe a word you say?” he asks, brow raised. “You’ve lied to us this whole time. Your stories can be just more lies.”

You zone out a bit on their conversation, staring at Mingi behind the rest of them. He keeps his gaze down, avoiding stares from everyone else. The tough exterior that he emits whenever he’s around any of you is dropped at this moment. He seems to be tucked in on himself, arms crossed against his body. His eyes move from the ground, sliding to yours. They widen before softening, nodding slightly.

“Fine,” Hongjoong says, interrupting the moment. “Speak.”

“We aren’t dogs, Hongjoong. We take no commands from you,” Yeosang sneers, eyes narrowing. “If it was my choice you’d be long gone from here.”

“Settle down, all of us,” Yunho interrupts. “I can speak about our position without getting into many details. As you know from Mingi’s confession, we were all part of the military. I was forced into it when this all started, right from my college campus. My faction recruited Eden into our ranks. We weren’t part of the ones that entered homes and destroyed lives. But I did leave for a reason. One of our many tests caused death to a lot of the Eden. I decided that I couldn’t be part of it anymore. That was four years ago. We took over this facility, destroyed it from within with Yeosang’s help.”

“So this isn’t your father’s farm?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“It is. My father was part of the military. He is the one that converted our farm to this when they came to us just before the meteor hit and told us of what’s to come. He was always filled with pride for his country. Undergoing this task was something decided easily. It later destroyed our family since this was our farm, but that’s besides the point. It was converted, that is why it is so protected. Everything you see around us is preparation from him and the government combined.”

“What about the rest of you? You were forced into this, but the others?”

“We were all forced to join at different points in time,” Seonghwa says. “Our stories aren’t relevant and many are private, but we all came together and decided that we should leave. It was quite humorous, once I think about it, over breakfast one morning. The sergeant in charge of our unit came into the dining hall and told us the upcoming plans of the military. That moment changed us all. We were so delusional into thinking that we were in the right after so long of doing it. That moment, that order to kill every civilian that approached the fence was a shift. It was a reality check. No one in their right mind would do such a thing, especially if they’re not infected. Even now, I mourn the deaths of the Sick. It’s been half a decade so I am sure their souls are long gone, but it is disheartening to see it. I’d rather rot than kill the innocent for seeking isolation and assistance.”

“Kill every civilian…?” Wooyoung curses under his breath. “They’re actually more horrendous than I give them credit for.”

“They are. Jongho knew about a lot of the activities because of his brief stay in military hands. But he never heard of that order because by that point, we were rid of all of the military personnel on this land. He didn’t know about our past. We planned to tell him eventually, but he happened to stumble upon the information himself. That is why he ran away from us. Because he thought that we were going to send him off to the military ourselves. That wasn’t and still isn’t our intention.”

“What is your intention with my brother?” You ask simply.

“We just want to make sure he’s okay,” Mingi finally speaks up, sighing softly. “I knew after that moment he would never trust us again, and I’m fine with that. We didn’t lie to him about our past, but we did walk around the truth. It is our fault that he lost his trust in us. We just want to make sure he hasn’t been found by the military. They want him as badly as you want to see him."

"Why? Why so much emphasis on my brother? Why care about him compared to other Eden?” Your tone is persistent, stepping out from behind San. He moves where you move though, keeping his eyes on the men in front of you. You pay no mind, too angry as you speak. “Everyone wants him, everyone wants my brother but no one can seem to tell me exactly where he is and why they want him. I just… I don’t believe that you want to track him down to make sure he’s safe. I just don’t, Mingi.”

Seonghwa nods slowly, “It wouldn’t make sense because you barely know us. But it’s mostly true. The other part is that he has something that we all need to survive. You, as well.”

“What does he have?”

“The cure,” Yunho says simply. “Your brother has the cure for this illness.”

“You’re fucking with us,” San scoffs, shaking his head. “How can he have the cure?”

“It’s hard to believe, but it’s true. If you would like us to show you, we can,” Yunho lowers his arms, digging in his back pocket. Wooyoung’s gun follows his movements, even as he takes out a small camera. He gestures to Hongjoong, tossing it to him carefully. He catches it with ease, turning it on.

“This shows everything. Our words don’t do it justice, so if you see for yourselves, you’ll understand.” He takes a step back, gesturing to the others. “Give them space.” They begin to move, but Wooyoung cocks his gun.

“Hey…” San furrows his brows. “Chill, Woo.”

“They move, they can grab a weapon. No chance,” he says, aiming back. “Stay where you are. Hongjoong and y/n can look at the video and tell us if it’s legit.” Hongjoong glances at you, questions in his eyes. You only nod in response, watching closely as he presses play. The video stutters for a moment, before the familiar face appears on the screen. You almost drop the camera, taking it from Hongjoong’s hands, fingers trembling.

-

“Attempt forty-one,” Jongho says, adjusting the camera. His hair is longer, tucked behind his ears as he stares at the lens. The bags under his eyes were apparent even in the low light. “Last few attempts yielded few results. This is going to be our last attempt for tonight then we’ll resume it later on. Currently, I am in the room with Kang Yeosang, Song Mingi and myself. We will be using my blood this time for a benchmark on how the virus affects it. Our results have not been edited, mostly because this is a shitty camera--”

A snicker behind the camera makes Jongho grin. His eyes flick back to the lens. “And without hyung’s commentary, I will begin.” He holds out the camera, one of the other guys taking it from his hands. He walks over to the petri dish, slicing his finger with a scalpel. He squeezes it tightly, watching as it drops into the sample. He places the sample underneath a microscope, the low hum of the camera zooming in filling the silence.

Jongho peers into the microscope, silent for about a minute. He lets out a low sigh, pulling back and looking at the camera. “Sample number forty-one was unsuccessful-”

“Wait,” Yeosang appears from behind the camera, peering into the scope. “Jongho, you’ve got to be shitting me. Are you-” He moves away from the scope, staring at the sample before peering back in. “Choi, your sample is killing the virus.”

“What?” the camera falls, swears falling from Mingi’s lips as he picks it up again. He moves closer to the sample, all of them surrounding it. Jongho looks into the scope again, eyes widening.

“No fucking way,” he utters, eyes flicking to the camera. “Sample forty-one was a success. It was a success…” He rubs his forehead, shaking it slowly. “What the Hell, what the Hell!”

“I’m getting Seonghwa and Yunho. They need to see this,” Yeosang speeds around the table, a door swinging open in the background. You hear his steps rush up steps in the distance, silence between Mingi and Jongho. Mingi places the camera on the table, the both of them finally coming into frame. Without words exchanged, Mingi embraces Jongho. Your brother is hesitant at first, before he lets his hands wrap around Mingi’s body.

“You did it,” Mingi says softly, pulling away. His hand reaches up, as if he’s going to touch Jongho’s cheek, but he pulls away once his gaze moves to the camera. Mingi backs up, rubbing his hands on his pants as he stares at the sample. “We need to continue to monitor it to make sure it’s permanent, but -”

“There’s a big chance the cure may be me,” Jongho murmurs, eyes widening. “But why? Why me? What’s different about my blood? The government had to have tested Eden against the virus before me. What makes mine different?”

“We can continue to analyze the data and see what changed. It can be the air quality, your diet, any combination of it all that kills the virus. There’s so much to go off of-”

Jongho’s eyes flick to the camera, joyous expression slipping. Without another word, he walks over, turning it off.

-

You stare at the thumbnail, Jongho's face staring back at you. It's different to see him on camera instead of a photo, to hear his voice again. It's a bit rougher over the years but you can still hear the soft tone of your brother. You want to press play again just to hear him speak, but you know it isn't the right time. So with great hesitancy, you look up from the camera to the others.

Hongjoong's hand covers yours. Right when he touches you, you realize how much you're shaking. You stare at your hands, the trembling going over to his as well. You let him take the camera, passing it over to San as he looks at the others.

"Jongho is the cure." You murmur. Your brother is the cure to all of this. To everything.

"As far as we know, yes. We haven't had the chance to continue our testing because he left soon after. But Jongho is special. His blood has certain compounds that allow him to be resistant to the illness. It can change everything," Yunho says. "But it's his choice in the end whether he wants to use it or not. We won't force his hand either way. As we've said before, we just want to find him. Make sure he's okay. And tell him we aren't who he thinks we are."

"You expect us to drop everything and stay over a five minute video?" Wooyoung asks, brow raised. "It only makes me think that you want him for the cure and nothing else."

"We do want the cure, Wooyoung," Yeosang’s tone is sharp as he speaks. "But every single human does. That's up to no debate. We want to be able to live freely again, to not have to worry about turning into one of the Sick. And we don't want you to leave, at least not without us testing y/n."

"What?" You say, eyes widening. "Testing my blood?"

"You're twins, y/n. There’s a high chance that you can carry it. You might be walking around with the cure like Jongho without even knowing it. If we take a sample just to see –"

"Absolutely not," San interrupts Seonghwa, rolling his eyes. "Who do you guys think you are? We said we're leaving. What part of that do you not understand?"

“And risking the chance that she could have the cure flowing through her veins?” Yunho inquires. “This isn’t going to change our search for Jongho if she has it or not. We’re still going to search for him with or without your help. We just… we want it to end. Who knows how many of us are left free of the sickness. Living like this forever isn’t something that we want. y/n,” Yunho turns to you. The calm, kind look in his eyes is gone. Filled with desperation. Fear. At a complete juxtaposition from what he usually looks like. “I know you want to find your brother. Most of us lost the family we have, and I personally, would give anything to see them again. To save them from the fates that they suffered. Without hesitation. Staying a little longer could save them. Could save people from suffering as long as they have. We could save everyone.”

“It’s not our job to save everyone,” Hongjoong says as you stare at Yunho, at a loss for words. “We’ve lost enough, Yunho. If there’s a slight possibility that her blood is like Jongho’s, if word gets out… she’ll be hunted. Not everyone wants this to end. So many people we’ve come across believe that this shit we’re in is a higher beings plan. And so many just love the thrill of it. There’s so much crap that’ll be thrown at her face. And we don’t trust you, Yunho. Any of you. You can show me all the footage you want and have Jongho on video saying that we should trust you, and we still won’t. How long has he been gone? A few months now? People change in months, Yunho. His words back then could be something completely different now.”

An unreadable expression flicks across Yunho’s face. The others behind him don’t say much, faces empty. You stand there and listen to their words, thinking. This shit, finally being over? You never thought it was a possibility, at least not in your lifetime. There’s too much destruction to fix, too many things that lead to more hurt. But the slightest possibility that it can be over. That you can have a semi-normal life, that the next generations wouldn’t have to suffer what you’ve all been through. It’s a dream. And a few hours ago, it was an unachievable one. You touch your side, still sore. The words that are about to come out of your mouth are going to be completely stupid. Completely and utterly stupid. But just as you’re about to say something, Seonghwa interrupts you.

“We’ve all had lives before this. And there’s a big fucking chance that we won’t survive to see a glimpse of what we had before. I doubt it, to be honest with you. But I want to go back to something like it. It’s exhausting to wake up each day and think about how it may be your last. And I know behind the annoyance in your voice right now, Hongjoong, the chance is still lingering in your mind. We haven’t asked for many chances, but we just hope that you may consider this one.”

It’s a plea. One that you can clearly see, despite the frown on his lips. Although you’ve been around for a short time, you’ve figured him out a little. The anger isn’t exactly what he’s feeling. You look at Wooyoung. His lip twitches when you meet his gaze, eyes flicking to the ground before focusing on the others again. San doesn’t meet your eyes, squeezing your arm slightly. Two no’s. You meet your best friend’s eyes last. You expect him to be the third, but his lip quirks. Yes.

Hongjoong wants to give them a chance. It leaves you stumped.

It’s up to you now. You can either split it up, or say no. You look at the men, until your eyes move to Mingi. He rubs his neck, a red mark painted against his skin. You didn’t notice that before. Not when you were with him. Something isn’t right.

“Will you let us go if I test out my blood?” You ask. San and Wooyoung’s expressions drop at your words. “I give you my blood, you let us go. I don’t stay here for testing, I just give you a few vials and we go. Mingi is the one that draws it, no one else.”

“y/n-”

“We agree,” Mingi speaks up, interrupting Yunho. A flicker of anger crosses Yunho’s face. You say nothing, gripping San’s shirt tightly. “I’ve done it before, I can do it. Then you can go.”

“Thought you said you aren’t holding us here?” San quirks.

“We aren’t,” Mingi says, “Just the blood. That’s all. You go and we go back to normal. We don’t have to see each other again.”

“Perfect,” Hongjoong says, clasping his hands. We’ll wait in the barn. Come get us when you’re ready. Before nightfall, because we’ll be long gone by then.”

Yunho says nothing, turning on his heel and walking off. Yeosang nods at you, following behind him. Seonghwa lingers with Mingi as he stares at you. He opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind, letting Seonghwa guide him back to the house. You watch them go, anxiety rolling in your chest. You feel San’s finger on top of yours, realizing that you never let go of his arm. He touches your hand softly.

“It’s alright.”

“Yunho did something to Mingi,” you say, looking at your friends. “That red mark on his neck? It wasn’t there before. And we haven’t been standing outside in the sun long enough for him to burn. There’s something going on between them.”

“So called best friends,” Wooyoung lowers his gun, shaking his head. “Should have shot them and ran off. Why did you agree to give them your blood, y/n? They’re agents, they could do anything with that. It’s not wise to do.”

“I know,” you say, rubbing your arm. “That’s why I’m not giving it to them.”

Wooyoung furrows his brows. “But you just said-”

“Why do you think I asked for Mingi to be the only one to draw blood? I’m going to convince him to take it from one of you. They test it, see that it doesn’t work, and we get the fuck out of here,” And find your brother, hopefully. “Maybe convince Mingi to come with us.”

“No,” San says, shaking his head. “Even if we wanted to, Mingi wouldn’t leave them. They’re his family. That’s like me leaving one of you and joining them. There are just some people you can’t save, y/n. No matter how much you want to.”

“It’s just a thought,” you say softly, thinking. “Do you… do you think that I might have the cure? If Jongho does, there’s a strong possibility that I do too.”

“And?” Hongjoong raises his brow. “Are you willing to hand it over to them? We’ve been through a lot of shit, y/n. And especially with them. This whole time that we’ve been here, things have been happening. Yea, there’s the Sick around out there, but something about this place isn’t right. I don’t think any of your DNA should linger around in their labs. Don’t you remember when they went around to our homes? Taking samples of our blood?”

“Jongho was taken soon after that,” you say, swallowing slowly. Maybe they’ve known this whole time. It isn’t too far-fetched, but you don’t let your mind linger on those thoughts. “But they seemed too shocked in the video for it to be faked. They didn’t know about Jongho.”

“Them, yes. But the higher ranks in the military? I wouldn’t put it past them. I’m sure these guys are just looking at the records they left over.” San says, walking back to the barn. “Who’s volunteering in your stead?”

“I will,” Hongjoong says, following San. You slowly follow after them, Wooyoung close to you. “Then we’re gone, right?”

“Right~!” San says from the front, opening the barn door. Hongjoong rolls his eyes at his cheery voice, following close after. You hesitate.

“y/n?”

You look at Wooyoung. You don’t have to meet his eyes to know he’s worried. You smile at him softly. “It’ll be fine.”

“You didn’t answer his question. We’re leaving right after this, right?” he asks you again.

“I hope so, Woo,” you murmur. “I just… I don't have a good feeling about all of this. If Yunho’s willing to hurt Mingi, his best friend… how far is he willing to go to get what he wants? You saw how angry he was when Mingi spoke up before him. He didn’t agree. I don’t think they’re going to let us leave without a fight. And I don’t want anyone hurt, not after what we’ve all been through. I can’t even help the way I would before this stupid shot in my side.”

“It won’t get to that,” he says. “We won’t let it get to that.”

“But you can’t promise that,” you say. “You can’t promise that they’ll let us go.”

“I can’t,” he says simply. “But I will try my best. We’ve gotten this far - a few strangers aren’t going to stop us. We’re too close to finding your brother to give up now. And I’m sure he’s waiting for you to find him as well.” His hand reaches out, steadying you as you walk over small rocks. “We’ve got to try, y/n.”

You nod slowly. Wooyoung is often the one you go to, his calm demeanor often calming your anxiety ridden one. Like before, he’s very straight-forward with his words. It’s comforting when you speak to him. Although at this moment he’s sugar-coating it a bit, he isn’t lying to you. You nudge his arm.

“Think they’ll fall for some strawberry juice as my blood? Maybe peak their interest enough that they’ll wonder why I have the DNA of a fruit?”

Wooyoung snickers, rolling his eyes. “Might not fool Yunho, but I’m sure it’ll stump Yeosang. His thoughts are pretty empty.”

“Don’t be mean!” you laugh. “What do you have against that guy?”

“His face,” he narrows his eyes. “He’s too handsome. One man can’t possibly hold that much power and be mean. Life just isn’t fair.”

“You say that like you’re not handsome, dumbass,” you stumble over a rock, and he holds you upright.

“You think I’m handsome?” Even through these circumstances, he smirks, wiggling his brows. “Round two is always open for you.”

“Can’t believe you’re thinking about sex at a time like this.”

“You started it!”

previous chapter | next chapter

tags: @haechanniesunflowers @kpopnightingale @vanishingboots @moonctae @bangtanxberm @honeysbbae @havetaeminforbreakfast @mirror-juliet @knucklesdeepmingi @captainjoongiekissme @roroswitherose@a1sh1teruu @goldenstarmermaid @meowsannie​@atinytease​ @jenniie-tm (won’t let me tag~) @honeydewjoong (won’t let me tag~)

[sambhavami]

Ehi Murare - Nagnajiti (Part 6)

Nagnajiti stood coyly, gently fanning her father and his esteemed guest with a chaamara. Today, her father was not sitting on the simhasana. He had taken up an ordinary seat while the dark-skinned guest sat on the King’s throne, the brilliantly carved sun glittering behind him. Nagnajiti smiled to herself. How apt it was that after an entire yuga, the Lord of Ayodhya had graced the throne of Kosala! Her father, Nagnajita, had himself taken a lower seat, as he also gazed at the man with reverent eyes.As she swayed the chaamara the peacock feathers on his crown waved at her. Occasionally he’d look up and smile at her. She politely smiled back, hoping her racing heart wasn’t beating as loudly as she thought. After such a long penance Krishna- her Krishna had finally come to Ayodhya!

---

She had heard of him ever since she was a child. As she had grown up, she had found herself falling in love with the stories of the multifaceted hero from the island nation. Then one day, her father summoned her to a secret meeting with the sages Narada and Vashishtha. They had informed her that the prince Krishna was deemed to be the reincarnation of Rama, the illustrious ancient King of their kingdom. Her father had informed her, overjoyed, that he would immediately invite the prince, to take over the reigns of his old kingdom, and in doing so, also accept the hand of Satya in marriage. It had taken an entire year for Krishna to find some time to visit Ayodhya. During that time, her devotion to the divine man had only increased. Satya had even developed a fever on the eve of his arrival, in anticipation.

When he had walked into her father's court, Satya had been enchanted with the casual confidence he exuded. Ignoring all social norms, she had rushed down from the queen's balcony and into the open court, defying the chagrined glares of the courtiers. Drawing his sword partially out of its sheath, she sliced her finger. With the blood drawing the sacred mark on his forehead. He had politely bent down to let her do it, but in the next moment, he had taken her palm in his and sucked at the blood, then holding the pressure himself until someone produced a cloth to tie it up. Blocking the soldiers who had rushed in with the first-aid kit, he had bandaged it up himself. Who else but a God would pardon such blatant forwardness in a woman and also treat her so kindly afterwards?!

---

Struggling to tear away her mind from the trickery of Kama, the god of attraction, Satya Kausalya, the daughter of King Nagnajit focused herself on the conversation between her father and the man. Even so, she felt as if her entire life had led up to this point.

Krishna spoke, “Dear Kosala-naresha, I have been informed that you wish for me to accept your daughter’s hand in marriage. Does your daughter share the intent?” He smiled at her again, while Nagnajiti blushed and lowered her eyes while she bit her finger, at the same time scratching the stone floor beneath her. “You can tell him dear.” Nudged her father. Satya coyly nodded her head in approval. Her father continued, “Although my Lord, there is but one obstacle in the path of this blessed union! I have sworn on my devotion to our Lord Sri Rama that my daughter shall only marry the man who is able to tame my seven ferocious bulls at the same time. I am aware it is a child’s play for you my Lord, yet I must request you to indulge my request!”

“Ah! So, this is the reason for such a great mercy on this mere cowherd, Maharaj!” Krishna said with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. “I will surely fulfil your oath, Sir.” Satya couldn't help but laugh at the subtle pun. She was pretty sure Krishna had winked at her encouragingly, but she couldn't decide if her brain was playing tricks on her. Why would a God go around flirting with a mortal, in front of her father no less?

The next morning Nagnajiti arrived at the bullfighting arena, garland in hand. Krishna was already there warming up. He had discarded his royal garments, choosing instead to wear a tight yellow dhoti like that of cowherds, the peacock feather still tied into his hair. Satya couldn't help but admire his commitment to the feathers. They said the only time he had gone out in public without those feathers was when killed the evil king Kamsa! She quietly bowed her head as he shot her a smile in acknowledgement. At this moment, Satya wondered if this was how Queen Seeta must have felt when her Rama had walked up to lift the divine bow in Mithila. She was so sure of Krishna's victory, but a chilling fear lingered behind the encouraging smile she put on for him.

Still smiling, Krishna tightened the cloth tied at his waist and rolling up a bundle of rope he threw it over his shoulder. As he entered the arena, King Nagnajit signalled for the seven bulls to be let out. Satya gasped as the aggressive animals all charged toward Krishna. Astonished, she stared as with a blinding flash, Krishna expanded into seven identical forms and advanced towards the bulls. Amidst the deafening cheers emanating from every corner of the arena, Kausalya watched as the seven forms of Krishna subdued the seven bulls. One he stopped by its horns, one he petted and another he shushed just like a human child. Gradually, his extra forms disappeared as the real Krishna tied up the bulls one by one and led them slowly towards King Nagnajit.

Satya felt tears rolling down her cheek as she rushed down the stairs of the altar to garland her now victorious Lord. Her father was clapping vigorously, practically jumping in excitement. The ladies adorning the balconies all started showering flower petals to bless the divine feat. Satya smiled at Krishna, who was grinning ear-to-ear. At that moment, to Satya's lovestruck eyes, he seemed so beautifully human. Satya couldn't help but whisper, "So would you stay here now, my King?"

Krishna laughed as he leaned into her, "Why? Wouldn't you like to come home with me? Anyway, I've had enough of being a king, the last time around." This time he clearly winked at her, drawing jealous gasps from the surrounding ladies, "It's not as fun as it looks. Come home with me as a princess, you'll find it a freer life."

"Really?" She whispered, "Can we go wherever we want, whenever?"

"Not exactly, but we get vacations." He laughed as he scratched his nose, "I'll take you to all the places I've been: the snowy mountains, the fields doused in petrichor and our own salty ocean. But only if you want!"

Satya nodded her head eagerly. As much as she loved Ayodhya, she couldn't wait for this next adventurous phase of her life.

[genuineformality]

Rules: List ten comfort movies and tag ten people. Or not. I’m not your boss.

Thank you for tagging me @taralkariel! I don’t watch a lot of movies these days, partially because the way our house is set up isn’t really conducive to that, but… I do have some that I think about all the time and bring me joy.

Here are my comfort movies in the order in which I thought of them:

Pride and Prejudice (2005): It’s such a pleasant adaptation. Is the 90s miniseries objectively a better adaptation in terms of closeness to source material? Probably. But this does such an incredibly beautiful job of capturing the essence of the novel and doing some really lovely things with showing the differences in class that exist between impoverished and wealthy gentlepeople which gets missed in a lot of regency romance adaptations.  

White Christmas (1954): I love this film. It’s only kind of a Christmas movie, in that it takes place over the Christmas holiday and features the Irving Berlin’s (noted Jewish composer) White Christmas, but let’s face it: it’s really a thin excuse to smash as many completely ridiculous dance numbers together with only the tiniest hint of a plot.

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992): Another completely ridiculous Christmas movie that I mostly love because it is probably the most faithful adaptation of A Christmas Carol that exists, even with the muppets. Possibly because of the muppets. I have a long, complicated history with Christmas (as someone who is Jewish; as someone whose mother tried to join cults a few times, and as a result, all holidays are weird; as someone with a lot of family trauma that often came to a head around holidays, both the ones we observed and sometimes especially when we were not observing them), but I found an uneasy détente with Christmas and now observe it in a way that makes sense for me and my (non-Jewish) family. So it seems weird that I have two Christmas movies on this list, but I cannot tell you how many good, fond, wonderful memories I have tied up with this movie. Just thinking about it lowers my blood pressure.

Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971): Angela Lansbury, my beloved. When I was growing up, we had a VCR and a very small collection of films on VHS, of which this was one. And this is definitely the one that I wore out through watching and rewatching. It’s such a weird, fun, lovely film.

The Birdcage (1996): Robin Williams and Nathan Lane clearly had so much fun making this. It’s a farce and looking at it any deeper than the surface means that the plot falls apart almost immediately, so you cannot take it seriously. And yet, it has such warmth and heart. I love this film, even though it has not aged well; even though it’s imperfect.

Empire Records (1995): What’s with TODAY, today? This came out when I was entering high school and it was the perfect film for that time in my life and it has remained a favorite ever since.

Auntie Mame (1958): Speaking of films that haven’t necessarily aged well, but are fun, hilarious, and heartfelt. Auntie Mame was a book (that also has not aged well) and was adapted to theater and film about making the best of the family you have and creating family from your friends as well as blood kin. My mom showed me this film when I was still in single digits and I knew then that my goal in life was to be Auntie Mame, the original wine aunt. And you know, I’m not doing a half bad job of it.

Galaxy Quest (1999): It’s the best star trek movie. Fight me.

Mystery Men (1999): It’s the best marvel movie. Fight me.

Persuasion (2007): Persuasion is my favorite Austen novel. When I was in high school/college, I was all about that Pride and Prejudice life, but as an adult (and one rapidly approaching middle age), I feel Persuasion to my core. There is something so incredibly human about grieving the life you might have had; of living with regrets and still living your life with as much integrity as you can; of having a terrible family and bearing with them; and of getting second chances that honestly were probably only available because of your lived experience, integrity, and living through that grief. Anne Elliot is my girl (and I’m actively mad about the Netflix adaptation, despite generally being very live and let live about adaptations being adaptations). Why is this one my comfort movie? Because this is the one that captured Anne for me. Sally Hawkins was beautiful casting and she shines with subtle, understated grace. 10/10, would Anne Elliot again.

Tagging (with no pressure whatsoever): @marycontraire, @saritasoyyo, @totchipanda, @capinejghafa, @whatanybodygets, @pyrrhlc, @tlonista, @feelinglikecleopatra; @jackwolfes; @carolinawrenn; @whimperandabang

[thedragonofcauldron]

Im going to complain about something. It's something a lot of people complain about, but...from the other side. Part of me has wanted to respond to other complaints, to share my story as a show of solidarity from the other side - but I don't want to seem like I'm trying to make their conversations about me. So I'm just venting here.

When I started my current job, they had me do a physical, where they took my height and weight.

Today, about six months later, I weighed myself at home, and came up 15 pounds lighter.

And I want you to stop for a second, and think about what your reaction to that loss of 15 pounds was. Because chances are, you thought I was celebrating - but no. I've been sick, anemic enough to get sent home from work, and so bloated by the iron supplements that were trying to get my blood functional again that I didn't feel hungry and would forget to eat, and because of that Ive lost 10 fucking percent of my body weight- possibly more, because who knows how much (literal) shit is still sitting in my lower intestine and boosting that number upwards! My cheeks have sunken in. My belt has moved to the tightest loop. It hurts to rest my wrists or elbows on a desk surface, because the pressure foes right to the bones.

What I am is not healthy or good, and I want those 15 pounds back.

I have always been underweight and pale and frail. Maybe something is actually, medically wrong with me, I don't know. I've never deliberately tried to keep my weight down - on the contrary, I'm a lazy shit who eats too much junk. But even as a kid, I'd get compliments, people asking "How are you so skinny?" Through no effort of my own, people were envious of me - and as I look at my bones showing through my skin, and think of a PE teacher telling me that my BMI literally not existing because they didn't have that low a score on the chart was "better than being on the other side :)"

I am angry.

What I am, and have always been, should not be envied or idolized, because it is not healthy. It's always made me uncomfortable, being praised for something I put less than no effort into attaining, but as I sit here, exhausted and missing those 15 pounds because they were 15 pounds between me and starvation, I am angry that society as a whole is so God damn scared and disgusted by the idea of "being fat" that my shitty ass, failure of a body is seen as better.

No random person, teacher, employer, coworker, or doctor has ever suggested that my weight had anything to do with any problems I faced. I've never had my discipline or character or lifestyle questioned because of my shape, and it is fucked. Up!! That other people get that treatment because their body doesn't throw literally every calorie they consume onto the incinerator immediately! I hate that there are people, friends who are envious of my incompetent metabolism because other people are so goddamn shitty to each other about the shape of their bodies! People see me, with my bony ass dangling over oblivion, and ask how they can join me, and I want to cry and scream! You do not want this!

I hate how much society hates fat, and fatness. Sure, yeah, too much of anything isn't good for you - but you can die from having too much water in your system. Or be poisoned by goddamn oxygen. Bodies make and store fat for good reasons. You should not feel bad for having it! Skinny is not inherently good, and fat is not inherently bad! The shape of your body should not be, and IS NOT a reflection of your virtues or vices or values or VALUE as a person! Be kinder to others, and to yourself most of all! If you are able bodied, treasure that, no matter what shape or number is associated with it.

I can't. I can't erase the years, the generations that have layered on this hate and fear and cruelty towards the very concept of "fatness", and I can't pretend I know what it's like to be on the other end of the scale, where you're mocked are looked down on for just existing in your own skin. But. I just. I just want to say that from where my pencilneck is situated on that scale, I can also see it - the scale is fucked up.

I'm sorry. I wish it wasn't like this, that you didn't have to deal with this shit. I wish I could make it better. I wish I could help.

But all I can do is this - to scream into the void that I see you. I hear you. And you're fucking right.

Be good to each other. We didn't get to build our own meatsuits.

[boowhumps]

Whumptober 2023

Day 16

(@whumptober)

By - B.W

⚠TW⚠

~ Swearing

~ Mentions of Injury

~ Mentions of Death

~ Hospital Setting

Enjoy!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Kaiden was fast asleep, his head resting against Karyme's hospital bed.

Karyme was wide awake, eyes slowly studying his features. She found herself immersed in him, eyes gazing over his tired eyes, pale skin, and the millions of freckles on his face.

Karyme slowly reached her hand up, letting it fall on his head. She ran her fingers through his black wavy hair, sighing.

She suddenly stops, eyes darting over to the door as it slowly opens. A familiar nurse pops her head in.

"Aren't you up early?" The nurse says with a smile, carrying her clipboard.

Karyme's attention wanders back to Kaiden, eyes wandering over him.

The nurse lowers her voice. "Don't worry, I won't wake him.." She says, approaching Karyme.

Karyme says nothing as the nurse checks her vitals, takes blood samples, and adjusts her I.V.

Once she's done, the nurse frowns. "I'll have to check your incision to make sure it's healing.."

Karyme nods, despite every fiber in her screaming no.

The nurse quickly undoes her bandages around her torso and reveals the large incision on her abdomen.

Karyme looks away, taking a deep breath.

"I'm going to apply a bit of pressure on it.. if it's too much squeeze my arm.." The nurse says.

Karyme leans her head back, eyes focused on the ceiling.

Soon a pain forms as the pressure starts. Karyme breathes heavily as the pain increases.

Finally, the pain reaches an unbearable level. Karyme gasps, quickly squeezing the nurses arm as tears fill her eyes.

The pressure stops, and the pain subsides. Karyme inhales sharply, calming herself.

"Good news, you're healing well.." The nurse says. "I have to go now, but if you need anything the service button is right in the wall."

With that, she excuses herself.

Karyme turns her head back to Kaiden, who's beginning to stir.

Karyme watches as he wakes up, rubbing his eyes.

"Karyme.?" He mumbles.

Karyme says nothing, only squeezes his arm.

He adjusts to the light and smiles at her. "Hey you.. have you been up for a while?"

Karyme nods in response.

Kaiden pushes himself up, checking his phone. "..did the nurse check on you already.?"

Once again, Karyme nods.

Kaiden sighs. "Why didn't you wake me.? I know how much those tests bother you.. I want to be there when they happen.."

Karyme shrugs, eyes gazing into his.

"It's fine.." He mumbles, stretching. "Do you feel better today.?"

Karyme nods.

"Good.. That's good." He responds.

He adjusts Karyme's blanket, making sure to cover her fully.

They sit together for a while, Kaiden talking and Karyme silently listening.

After a bit, Karyme's phone begins to ring. Kaiden raises an eyebrow. He picks up the phone, and almost immediately his demeanor changes.

"Your mother.." He mumbles. "..maybe I should answer-"

"No."

Kaiden's eyes widen a bit. "..Karyme.?"

Karyme speaks again, her voice low and shaky. "..no.. please.."

Kaiden immediately puts the phone down, the call missed. He clutches Karyme's hand, taking a deep breath.

"Easy.." He whispers. "It's fine.. I didn't answer.."

Karyme rests her head back onto the pillow, slowly nodding.

"You can talk.." Kaiden tells her. "I'm sure you have questions.."

"..she never visited..?" Karyme asks quietly.

Kaiden shakes his head. "No..not once. said she was busy.. even when you-.."

He stops, closing his eyes as if remembering..

Karyme frowns a bit. "..tell me.."

Kaiden hesitates. "I don't know-"

"..please.." Karyme whispers.

Kaiden sighs. "When I.. found you.. and brought you here.." He stops, as if composing himself to continue. "..you were in bad shape.."

"The doctors called your mother.. told her she should come down.. in case you didn't.. survive.." He sighs. "She never came."

Karyme squeezes his hand which he returns before resuming.

"Then you got worse." He says. "They were trying to get you stable enough to operate.. but every time.. your heart gave out."

His hands tremble a bit as he speaks. "Three times.." He whispers. "Three times you flatlined that night. Every time.. as I watched them revive you.. I broke inside."

He takes a deep breath. "You were ready to go.. so pale and fragile.. your breaths hardly there.. It felt like I was chaining you up.. not letting you pass on.."

He sighs again. "I didn't want to let you go.. at least.. not without an apology." He clear his throat. "After the third revive.. they rushed you away to operate.. telling me that your chances were low.."

He inhales deeply, and his lips form a small smile.

"But you made it." He says. "Even after hours.. you lived.." He squeezes her hand tightly. "And after three of the longest months of my life.. you're here.. awake.. and looking at me as if I did nothing wrong.."

Karyme gives him a weird look. "..what wrong.?"

Kaiden sighs. "Nothing.. let's not worry about that right now.. All we need now is to let you recover.."

Karyme nods, accepting his response.

But deep down.. in a dark and sinister place.. she feels guilt.

Why guilt.?

...

Well..

Because Karyme knows exactly what he did.. yet she can't find it in her to hate him for it..

...

Even if he deserves that hate.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

[lovereconthings]

Time Out! - Take a Break

Time Out! - Take a Break

Connection and understanding are vital to any relationship. Relationship time outs allow you and your mate to process and digest without saying the wrong things in the heat of the moment. ~ Teresa Hicks, LoveRecon As we know, relationship arguments can escalate quickly. When our hot buttons get pushed, we often begin to attack each other. Kindness and civility go out the window. Since we are feeling threatened, conflict can even reach a point of verbal or physical abuse. One of the best ways to prevent your fights from escalating out of control is to take an effective time-out. A well-timed break must happen before partners start to feel overwhelmed. When either of you are emotionally flooded, the part of the brain that generates “loving feelings” shuts down and the part that generates the fight response takes over. Don’t wait until you are in the heat of a disagreement to try to work out how to take a “time out.” Here are some steps that can help you prepare ahead of time so that you will be ready to take an effective time out when needed. - Agree Upon a Signa First of all, agree upon a signal that will let you both know that the time out is needed. This can be a verbal or a

non-verbal signal. A verbal signal could simply be to say, “Time Out!” or “Break!” Some couples decide upon a word that is unique to them like “Bananas” or “Sink Hole.” Non-verbal signals could be making a “T” with your hands, making the peace sign, or putting your fists together and making a breaking motion. What signal, verbal or non-verbal, will you use to signal that a break is needed? - Conversation Must Cease. Immediately stop talking! When a time out is called, both partners must agree to return the signal or key phrase and stop all conversation. There will be no last words, explanations, or a final comment. Don’t think to yourself, “We can take a time-out after I make my point,” because then a break will never happen. - Calm Down. It takes most people at least 20 minutes to regulate their emotions and return to their normal self. Therefore, don’t attempt to re-engage in the conversation with your spouse until at least 20 minutes has passed. What can you do during this time? Take a walk, listen to music, read inspirational thoughts or scripture, pray, etc. For a break to be effective, you need to make an intentional effort to replace these negative and destructive thoughts with relationship- building thoughts that will help you calm down. For example: “It’s okay. I’m upset. Take some big breaths.” “This isn’t personal. We can work through this together.” “I’m hurt and I love my partner. There’s something I’m not understanding right now and we will figure it out.” - Re-engage. Come back together when the time is up. After the agreed upon break, if you are apart, text one another. The text could say, “I’m ready now for us to work together on resolving this,” or “I need some more time. Is it okay if we take another 20 minutes?” It is very important that your mate doesn’t begin to feel that you are abandoning them or avoiding the issue, so communicate! When you do come back together from the break, don’t just jump right back into the conflict. Take a few minutes and connect with each other at a heart level. Say what you appreciate about your mate. Hug for a moment and let your blood pressure lower. Doing this will let your brain know that it doesn’t have to signal your body to protect you!

Tips

- Practice taking a time out, even when you don’t really need to. It may sound silly, but it will help you use this tool effectively when you need it. If you have time, practice today. - Don’t use any substances that would alter your thoughts or feelings during your timeout.

Make a Time Out Agreement

Come up with your own agreement. It could look something like this: Our Time Out signal is________. We agree to take a ___ minute break from each other and return when the time is up. If needed, I will request additional time to calm down. If my partner requests additional time to calm down, I agree to let them take that time if it’s not over an hour. I agree to avoid alcohol, drugs or any substances that might alter my thoughts or feelings during our time-out. End with a hug, a kiss and a prayer or wish for your mate! TODAY’S CHALLENGE: Speaking of a time out… how long has it been since you’ve taken a vacation - just the two of you? Decide where you want to go and when and set the date to take your “time out” getaway. Read the full article

[harlowcomehome]

Fic on jack fainting while y/n gives birth LMAOO I can see that happening

“Hazels Birth Story.”

You were leaned over the counter in your bathroom trying to catch your breath, you had a contraction and you were timing it out as best as you could.

Ten minutes apart.

Jack wasn’t home and you called him but he didn’t answer right away so you were doing your best not to panic. You looked through your contacts and called Urban, you assumed they’d be together as they usually were if Jack wasn’t home. Urban answered the phone with a tone of confusion, you usually weren’t one to call.

“Hello? Y/N are you alright?”

You breathed heavily on the other side of the phone “ Is Jack with you?”

You heard Jack in the background yell “I’M ON MY WAY.”

Jack was in the house and by your side all within the next ten minutes. You were still standing in the same spot in the bathroom, you were afraid to move without help.

Jack grabbed your waist and let you lean against him as he walked you to the bed. Before you knew it you were having another contraction. You held on to his arms and moaned “Fuck, fuck” you gasped all before you leaned over the bed, holding yourself up as best as you could.

“What can I do baby?” Jack rubbed your lower back.

“Get the bags in the car” you breathed out and pointed to the packed bags by your bedroom door.

“She’s coming today” you grunted as you labored your breathing.

Jack was quick to load the car and he came back for you immediately.

“Seven minutes” you groaned as you looked at your phone.

“Yeah, we got to go” Jacks entire forehead was covered in sweat droplets, you wanted to laugh a little but he was being so sweet that you really couldn’t joke at this time.

The entire way to the hospital Jack talked you through the pain and reassured you how well you were doing.

You squeezed his hand and smiled “Were going to be parents today.”

He nodded “I couldn’t be more excited.”

By the time you got into a hospital room, everything was a blur.

You were nauseous and grumpy, hot and irritable and ready to meet your little girl.

“Okay Mrs. Harlow, it’s time to push” one of the nurses nodded at you.

“Dad, you might wanna hold her hand” she smiled and Jack grabbed your hand tight.

You pushed a total of four times before you heard a cry, the sound of something being cut ( the umbilical cord) and a thud to follow.

You were lightheaded from pushing so you didn’t really realize what was going on until you heard the same nurses voice from earlier.

“Mr. Harlow? Mr. Harlow, are you okay?”

You went into panic mode, noticing your newborn was being cleaned off and your husband was down on the ground being evaluated by nurses. It was then that the nurses saw your blood pressure skyrocket and nudged Jack that it was alright to stand up.

“I’m okay” Jack reassured you as he stood up, holding his head with one eye closed.

“Are you sure you’re okay babe?” You rubbed his head while you kept an eye on your daughter getting all liquids sucked out of her nose by the nurses.

“I don’t think I can handle blood” he laughed nervously and you nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

It wasn’t until the nurses handled Hazel over to you that reality set in. You looked down at your small baby with tears in your eyes, you looked over and Jack was crying too.

“ Hi Hazel, I’m your mommy” you whispered.

[dailyreverie]

“I’m usually strong and stoic but you’ve been hurt and even though my first priority is taking care of you, I’m furious and planning the grisly demise of whoever hurt you”

Omg this with either Santiago or Leto? YES PLEASE 🤩🥵

Like you’re hurt and he’s taking care of you - gentle hands but his voice is furious and he’s so intense that you think he’s mad at you. But no no! He’s furious that this happened in the first place and it kills him to see you like this. I- 😩😭

A/N: Did I hurt my foot today and I got inspired to write this while not being able to move? Yes I did. I wrote this on my phone so I apologize for any mistakes.

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x reader

Word count: 816 words

CW: descriptions of an injury (nothing graphic, a sprained ankle), 1 f word.

**************************

The thing about Santiago is that, when it comes to you, he worries. He's mostly in control, he knows how to act in every situation thrown at him, but lord have mercy when something, anything, happens to you. it doesn't matter if it's a headache, a scrap, a coffee burn, he jumps to your side and makes sure you're okay. 

"It's nothing, Santi." You always laugh a little at him, pushing back his curls to relax him, and with that he's back to his usual self.

That's why the second he sees Will rushing to the med tent with you in his arms he can feel his blood pressure dropping and every thought leaves his head until there's only one left: you. He knows it's not nothing this time, he can hear your whimpers from afar as he rushes to your side.

He waits from a few feet away, looking at your face contorting with pain as the doctor checks your foot, and you can actually hear his breathing out loud when the doctor announces his diagnosis: "Third degree sprain."

You look at Santiago then. He's fuming, looking down to the floor and shaking his head silently, but after a few seconds he looks at you and his shoulders drop when your foot begins to be wrapped in a bandage. You wish you could read him, you really do, especially in moments like these when his face says nothing but anger, but his hands fidget nervously by his sides.

"No movement for a couple of days, then I'll check it again." The doctor hands you a healing cream and offers you a smile.

"Thanks doc." Santi steps up, slapping his shoulder in the process and offering him the best smile he can to let him know he needs a moment with you. The doctor somehow gets it, and you want to roll your eyes at Santi and at the effortless power he has over everyone, but your throbbing foot and his angry eyes from before won't let you. He walks over to you then, eyeing your foot and turning it gently.

"Careful." You spoke quickly, cautious, not knowing what Santiago was going to say. 

"What happened?" His voice was lower than usual and his eyes were not meeting yours, but this fingers, on the other side, massage your swollen limb. "And don't say it was nothing, something did happen this time."

"Santi, please, don't worry." You tried with a soft voice 

"It's too late for that, honey." Your eyes finally met, and you can't help the shiver that goes down your spine at the anger in his stare. "Does Will have something to do?"

"No." You are quick to say. "No, he just went to help after-." You stop yourself then, noticing the way his shoulder tense up again.

"After? After what?" He cages you between his arms, leaning closer to you in your spot at the stretcher. You have no other option but confessing.

"I- I'm sorry, Santi, I was being careful, it was an accident." His hand went to your thigh when you started your guilty ramble, stopping you immediately.

"Hey, hey. Mi amor," With a gentle squeeze he got your attention back to his face. "You don't have to apologize, this was clearly not your fault. Right?" Your soft nod made both of you relax a little, but that was long forgotten when he spoke again. "Will you tell me what happened now?"

"It was a stupid game. Tom rushed to tackle me, I didn't see him and we bumped into each other and I fell funny." Santiago's eyes went wide open, his hands gripping the thin paper sheet that covered the bed, and his breathing instantly began to quicken.

"Fucking Tom," he muttered, the gears in his head already working and planning how he was going to get back to him. "He tackled you?!"

"Will was near him and he tried stopping him but I guess he didn't hear." Santiago's jaw tensed when he looked away from you. "Santi." Your hands grabbed his face, making him turn to you again. Your fingertips traced his stubble with soft circular movements, knowing that would make him relax. "It was an accident, okay? He didn't plan to hurt me."

"But he did hurt you, didn't he?" Santi was pissed, rightfully so.

You shushed him calmly, once again turning his head to you. "He apologized, it's fine. Don't do anything to him, 'kay?"

That was something he couldn't promise you, you both knew that, what he could do was take your mind away from the pain. His lips kissed the palm of your hand before finding your lips, making a little bit of the pain go away and calming your nerves down. "You are not moving an inch for a week, got it?" His playful stare was back, kissing you again when you giggled.

"Got it."

**********************

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it ✨

[bluejayblueskies]

oh if you did a little something for jonmartin and "hiding their face in the other’s neck" i would be so 🥺💕

touches prompt list

a little post-circus kidnapping hurt/comfort! cw for wounds/injury, mild blood, mentions of non-consensual touching, and mentions of kidnapping

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There is a stranger’s elbow digging into Jon’s side.

He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his side while surreptitiously giving the stranger a glare that he hopes adequately conveys his dislike of the current situation. The tube is packed, as it always is at this time of day, and there are… so many strange hands. An elbow, at least, is better than the hand that had pressed to his back as the individual it belonged to had instinctively tried to maintain their balance.

After all, Nikola didn’t touch him with her elbows.

Jon doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think about any of it. He wants to lie down in a soft bed and get his first good night’s sleep in a month and finally have the space to process. Alone.

Instead, Martin stands next to him on the train. His hand rests just beneath Jon’s where it grips one of the metal poles, and Martin takes care not to brush against him despite how crowded the car is. Jon considered telling Martin, when they first got on the tube, that it was okay—that his touch would be… well, it wouldn’t be bad. But he’d stayed silent, allowing Martin to cultivate a careful space between them. They’ve been silent for the past twenty minutes as they’ve passed by station after station on their way to Martin’s flat in Brixton.

“I have a flat,” Jon had said uncomprehendingly when Martin had suggested (or rather, gently begged) that Jon come back to his flat with him. “It’s, um. It’s nice. Spacious. S-sturdy locks.”

“You… you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Martin had said, sounding and looking very much like he wished Jon would anyway.

“I’m fine.” Jon was not fine. But he could be fine until he got back to his flat. It was always good to have a short-term goal.

Martin gave him a look that clearly said that he thought Jon was full of shit. Jon was, but it was still unnecessary. He was just trying to keep it together. What did Martin want—him sobbing and crumpling to the floor right here in the Archives? No, that wouldn’t do at all.

“You were kidnapped. Twice now. I really don’t want it to happen a third time. Besides, I…” Martin trailed off and fluttered his hands at his sides. “I—I should take a look at your hand. And your, um. Wrists.”

Jon looked down at his arms. They were, indeed, quite red and raw and scabbed over and likely to scar. Nikola had been irritated when she’d seen that he’d been tied up so tightly, but she’d decided there was nothing to be done about it. She would just ‘make do with what she had.’ And, well. She had never stopped Breekon and Hope when they’d cinched the ropes just a little bit tighter each time.

“I have first aid supplies in my flat,” Jon lied. He was fairly certain that he had a backpack of What the Ghost merchandise and a single mattress to his name at the moment. “I can take care of it.”

“So can I.” Martin took a deep breath. “I just… I don’t want to see you hurt, Jon.” His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and he looked over Jon’s shoulder at the wall behind him. “J-just for tonight, at least? I want…” Martin swallowed. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

And then Martin had turned those lovely blue eyes to his, and, well. Here they are.

Jon adds 24 hours onto his mental countdown of the time he has left until he’s allowed to break down and tells himself that he can manage. It’s… important to have long-term goals as well. He splits this one into steps.

Step one: get to Martin’s flat without crying. He achieves this easily enough. He finally escapes the cloying presence of strangers as Martin’s door shuts behind them, and then it’s blissfully quiet. Martin flips on a light, illuminating the space in pale yellow. It’s a little bit messy but otherwise spartan. The walls are painted a dull eggshell white, the floor made of cheap lino. Martin sits Jon down on the couch and disappears into the bathroom. Jon stares at the wall and focuses on breathing evenly and thinking about anything other than how smooth his skin feels when he slowly rubs his fingers together.

Step two: let Martin bandage his wounds without crying. This is… more challenging, if only because it hurts. Martin apologizes profusely as he wets a cotton ball with isopropyl alcohol and gently cleans the inflamed areas. Jon sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, focusing on anything other than the stinging, burning sensation in his wrists and hands. Funny—he’d thought that at this point, he would be used to the pain, but he’s not. All he knows now is what to expect.

Martin carefully wraps his hand and wrists in bandages. For a moment after he’s done, he delicately holds Jon’s hands in his like they’re porcelain. His hands are warm and soft, and Jon imagines how lovely they would feel against his cheeks. He thinks briefly that Martin is going to raise his unbandaged hand to his lips and lay a kiss across the back of it, but Martin doesn’t. Instead, he sets Jon’s hands back in his lap and stands, mumbling that he’s going to go make some tea.

Jon scrubs his uninjured hand across his eyes, just once.

Step three: sit on the couch with Martin and drink tea without crying. Martin presses a mug of steaming chamomile into his good hand and lays a plate of biscuits between them. “Th-they’re your favorite,” Martin says with a small, nervous laugh, like Jon’s not already staring at the plate with something choked sitting in the back of his throat. “I—I figured you probably haven’t really eaten today, and… I don’t really know what you’ve eaten lately. So, um. Yeah.”

Jon thinks of the things that Nikola had called food, then chooses not to think of them at all. He tucks the memory into a box next to cold hands and exposed skin and burning ropes and slams the lid before it can all come spilling back out again. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. He gingerly takes a biscuit in his stiff, aching hand that hasn’t had the time to heal properly and probably won’t get the chance to do so in the future and pops it into his mouth whole so he doesn’t get crumbs on Martin’s couch.

Step four: eat a biscuit that tastes like the best biscuit you’ve ever had and is the first palatable food you’ve had in weeks without crying.

“Jon?”

Jon blinks and comes back to himself. He’s staring blankly at Martin’s face, at eyebrows folded in concern and mouth curled into a small frown. Martin’s freckles are smudged into smears of tan, and the lines of his jaw waver like a mirage in front of Jon’s eyes. That’s odd, Jon thinks. Then, he feels something wet hit the top of his cheek.

Oh, no.

Quickly, Jon reaches up and scrubs the tears away from his eyes. As soon as he lowers his hand, more spring up in their place. He curses and sets his mug of tea down heavily on the table, taking one more look at Martin—whose eyes are now wide with worry—before turning away and attempting to pull himself together.

Step five: stop crying. Stop crying. Stop crying.

(Stop crying, his grandmother says as he stands in the living room, hands and knees dirty and hair a mess. He’s managing to say words between his sobs, words like book and stole and spider. She’s frowning at him, but her voice is still patient and calm when she says, You’re not making any sense, Jonathan. Stop crying, please, and speak clearly. You had a nightmare?)

“Jon, what’s—” Martin catches himself, which Jon is thankful for. He thinks that if Martin had finished that question—asked him what’s wrong—Jon wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from saying, what isn’t? “What can I do to help?” he says instead, a hand hovering carefully in the air between them like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch Jon or not.

“Don’t look,” Jon manages to say. He immediately feels ridiculous and follows with a quick: “S-sorry, it’s—I don’t k-know how to—I’m not—I’m n-not good at—”

“I’m not looking,” Martin says softly.

Jon cuts off, takes a breath, and turns his head back toward Martin. True to his word, Martin has his eyes closed, though his hand remains in the air between them. Jon presses his good hand to his mouth for a moment to hide how the sight rips a new, more ragged sob out of him. Then, tentatively, he reaches forward and takes Martin’s hand.

Martin inhales sharply. Jon almost lets go, but Martin curls his fingers around Jon’s hand and squeezes. He holds Jon’s hand tightly yet so achingly softly, and Jon could weep. (Or rather, is weeping.)

“Can I hug you?” Martin says abruptly, like he’d been fighting an internal battle about whether or not to say it and had just lost. His cheeks darken, but he doesn’t say anything else or take it back. His jaw shifts as he pinches his lips together and worries them back and forth.

Jon is… not the kind of person who initiates or seeks out hugs. He always makes them too stiff, or he holds on just a bit too long and makes them awkward, or he doesn’t know what to do with his hands and ends up just dangling them uselessly in the air. He’s also never really seen the point of them if he’s being honest. As a form of greeting, surely handshakes or waves or head nods get the point across just fine. Right now, though, there is truly nothing in the world that Jon thinks would make him feel safer than having Martin’s arms around him.

Jon nods, then remembers that Martin can’t see him and whispers, in as composed a voice as he can muster: “Please.”

Step six: hug Martin Blackwood without falling apart completely.

Martin’s arms are soft and warm around him. His chest is flush with Jon’s, and he’s holding him so close that Jon is practically on Martin’s lap. All Jon can think is that it’s been so long since he’s been held by something not made of sawdust or plastic. He grips the back of Martin’s jumper with lotion-soft hands and cries tears that have been collecting for a month into the fabric as he buries his face in Martin’s neck. Martin’s hands rub large circles across Jon’s back, and he’s whispering gentle words into Jon’s ear. Things about safe and okay and time and here.

By the time Jon feels thoroughly wrung dry, his cheeks are sticky and his head is throbbing and he’s desperately in need of a glass of water. He takes a few deep breaths, then carefully extracts himself from Martin’s arms. Martin lets him go easily, though his hands remain resting lightly on Jon’s elbows as if he can’t bear to let him go completely.

Jon thinks he knows the feeling.

Martin’s eyes are still closed, and Jon is hit with such a swell of affection he can hardly breathe around it. “Y-you can open your eyes,” he says, a bit sheepishly. Martin does, and if he’s affected by the state of Jon’s face, he doesn’t show any indication of it. “Sorry,” Jon mumbles, twisting his ring—now on his left middle finger instead of his right—around and around mindlessly. “I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s elbows gently. “I understand. Any time you need me to look away, I will. Okay? I just…” He takes a breath. “I’ll always be here. F-for you when you need me.”

If Jon weren’t thoroughly out of tears, that would make his eyes water. Instead, he nods and offers a small, weak smile. “I know. Thank you, Martin. It… just. Thank you.”

Step seven: fall asleep safe against Martin’s side in the bed that he insists is big enough for two, face pressed into Martin’s neck once again and hands curled loosely in Martin’s sleep shirt.

He’s so drained by the time they’re there, so wrung-out and empty and relaxed, that he manages to do so almost immediately. He thinks he hears Martin murmur, “Sleep well, love,” as he drifts off. But it disappears into the fuzzy border between sleep and wakefulness, slipping from Jon’s mind entirely as he fades to black.