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cheolbooluvr · 3 years

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the social club - chapter two

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pairing: svt x fem!reader

genre: murder mystery, angst

word count: 3.6k

warnings: graphic depictions and mentions of death, nausea, grief, swearing, our super rich and super bougie ““friends””, and um a cynical view of religion

a/n: it's here! we are getting the ball rolling on this story and honestly, i’m pretty excited. it’s been so nice seeing the feedback and asks to be on the tag list *sobs* thank you for your support thus far, and i rly hope you enjoy this chapter!! any and all feedback is always appreciated <3

tag list: @carat-cakes @lavenderautumnx @gyukult @wh4txium1n @twogyuu @dj-bboo

social club masterlist

my main masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

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↤ chapter one

Dear God,

If you’re out there, why do you hate me? And why the hell would you give me such a shitty acid reflux? Why do I want to throw up so much these days?

Jesus. Oh, shit. Sorry.

It’s a bit of a bad thing when you say the Lord’s name in vain or something, right? Honestly, you weren’t sure, your parents had stopped taking you to church at a young age when they found out the pastor had 1) been cheating on his wife, and 2) embezzling money from the donations they’d ask for every Sunday after service. You didn’t care though because it meant you could sleep in later on Sunday mornings, and you definitely weren’t going to complain about that.

Yet, somehow, maybe you had found your way back into religion, begging to someone, or something, somewhere out there and asking them to get you away from here. Your vision and eyesight became murky, just like the river water that day, the one that kept running, kept flowing, and kept washing her blood and sweat downstream, leaving just her body on the bank. It stopped for no one, not even the dead.

Apparently, neither did the school. It felt like you were the only one who was still mourning her loss, bothered by the fact that someone was found dead on your campus, and not just anyone, not just your best friend and roommate, but the school’s most popular girl and the headmaster’s daughter. Surely, someone else had to have cared the way you did, right?

Blood quickly drained from your face, your skin growing colder and head feeling lighter as if it was pooling at the bottom of your body. Your feet grew heavier and dragged on with every step down the hallway as you did your best to go somewhere, anywhere but here, and fast.

A familiar voice called out to you. You looked up to see a concerned expression, one that belonged to Kwon Soonyoung. “Are you okay?” In your blur, you hadn’t realized that you were gripping onto the edge of the window sill for dear life trying to support yourself. You quickly propped your body up, doing your best to stand up straight, your knees however yielding to gravity as they buckled towards the ground. Soonyoung swiftly grabbed your arms to help you, the skin between his eyebrows creased with worry.

Soonyoung was yet another member of the Social Club, his role being the chair of special events. He was a known party boy and if you wanted to have a good time, you just had to follow the trail to Kwon Soonyoung, the boy with the slit in his eyebrow, an impulsive decision that almost ended with him having no eyebrows at all. Loud and erratic, it was hard to miss his presence no matter where you went. Time after time, you could recognize his maniacal laughter even from across campus, but something about this dude made him… approachable. According to Hyeyoon, his entire birth chart consisted solely of Gemini, and even after she had extensively explained his astrology to you, all you got from it was “he’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah, basically,” Hyeyoon had said with a shrug, turning around in her swivel chair and shifting her attention back to filing her nails. Though it was also because of this “duality” that you’d later find out contributed to a certain softness to Soonyoung—for instance, right now was a good example. No matter how wild he could be, he cared deeply for those around him and even if the two of you weren’t close, he was never the type to just leave you for dead if you were in need of help, just like you were now.

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, turning around in hopes that Jun had ignored you and gone inside the room.

Yet, there he was, standing in the doorway just as you had seen him initially, only this time, he was turned toward you, his eyes radiating worry. There wasn’t time for you to dawdle and you stood up hastily, albeit too hastily. The hallway seemed to stretch further the longer you stayed, your head still spinning as you brushed Soonyoung off and pushed past him, going as far as your legs would take you.

The trip back to your dorm was hazy, the walls of the buildings and trees in the courtyard all blending into each other in your mind, but the moment you shut the door to your room, you collapsed onto your bed, wanting nothing more than to be engulfed by your blankets. For the past week or so, your bed had been suffocating as if you were being held down by the shackles of grief and depression, yet right now, in this moment, you were thankful: thankful for its warmth, thankful to be in your half-empty room, and thankful for the bleary ceiling fan that spun over you as if it were hypnotizing you.

You closed your eyes but were suddenly bombarded with memories—memories of your past with…

With Jun.

Things between the two of you were complicated, to say the least. Hyeyoon hadn’t been the first person you knew here at the Academy, but Wen Junhui, your childhood best friend. The two of you had gone to elementary and middle school together, studying your asses off day and night in cram school just to get into this hellhole, though at the time, it seemed like paradise. The only difference was that Junhui’s parents could afford to send him to a school like this, and your parents could not.

Despite going to the same schools and living only mere minutes from each other, you two lived in vastly different neighborhoods. In his neighborhood, the houses were spread far apart, huge in size and newly built. Those houses had two-car garages, looped driveways, kitchens with islands, and bedrooms with walk-in closets. The backyards had green grass and sometimes clear blue pools where you and Junhui would spend your summer days playing.

Meanwhile, a short walk down the road and you would arrive at your house which was attached to two other neighbors and probably about a quarter of the size of Junhui’s. It was smaller and a lot more cramped, your parents always seemed to hoard stuff like plastic bags and containers. It didn’t matter that his house was bigger or fancier, he always preferred to play at your house because it wasn’t as “scary.” His parents were very nice people, and good friends with your parents, but they were often out of town for business, leaving Junhui to stay with you. You’d often have sleepovers and when you were really little, your parents let you sleep in the same bed. But when puberty both started to kick in for you both, they separated you, leaving Junhui to sleep in a guest bedroom instead.

When you both had been accepted into the Academy, you were stoked to be going to high school with your best friend, picturing it’d be just like how it had always been: perfect. Yet it was anything but perfect once you actually got to the school; Junhui was quickly recruited by the Social Club and started going by ‘Jun’ instead, something about how it was less of a mouthful than his full name. You weren’t one to join clubs, but you also weren’t going to stop your best friend from joining one either. Besides, it wouldn’t affect your relationship anyway, right?

But boy, oh, boy, were you wrong. Just so, so wrong. He started spending less time with you and more time doing club activities which, apparently, included flirting with the club’s sweetheart. The sweetheart was a girl who was voted on by the members to be a sort of honorary member because, of course, girls can’t join the club, and that only made the sweetheart role more desirable. Ask any girl at this school, and they’d mention their dream of being crowned the Social Club sweetheart in hopes that the Academy’s most elite boys would shower them in gifts and love. Lucky for Junhui—sorry, Jun—the sweetheart fell for him, and could you blame her? He was sweet, easygoing, funny, kind, and very attractive. During this time, you two had fallen out of touch even though you lived on the same campus, attended the same classes, and passed by each other in the hallways. You had only found out about his relationship when the sweetheart herself burst through your door and announced the news to you.

Opening your eyes, you turned to look at the corkboard on Hyeyoon’s side of the room, your attention first falling on the picture of you two at the school’s summer carnival, and then falling to a photobooth strip of her kissing… Jun.

Yeah, that’s right. Your best friend was dating your, well, best friend. Things got considerably more awkward between the two of you after that; it was hard to hold a conversation when the two of you were alone, something that you had never experienced in the past. Even though dating Hyeyoon meant you could spend more time with him, it wasn’t the same anymore. It was different when there was a third person, and in spite of her best efforts to always make sure you were included when it was the three of you, you just couldn’t help but miss what used to be. And so, at some point, you stopped hanging out with them, making up excuses about having to go study in the library instead of going to the cafe with them for the afternoon. Hyeyoon wasn’t dense, and you were sure she got the idea, and eventually, she stopped asking you to hang out with them.

You felt guilty not telling her about your relationship with Jun, but you also never felt the need to, because by then, they were already in too deep. It was better off for everyone if she didn’t know, and you just wanted to see your best friends be happy. A part of you always wondered if Jun had ever mentioned anything, but judging by the looks of it, it seemed like there was an unspoken agreement on his end to leave the past in the past.

Jun went from being your childhood best friend to just a classmate and then… a stranger. Today was the first time you had seen him since the gala which made your little run-in with him even more difficult to process. You didn’t know what he had thought of all this, if he had mourned the way you had, if he thought of you in the days following. Your mind became clouded with too many ‘what-ifs,’ exhausting you to the point of sleep. At least when you were asleep, you could briefly escape this dark reality.

———

The sunlight was bright today, perhaps a little too bright than it should have been, but that was the least of your worries. You were sitting in an open field of grass, a cool gentle breeze grazing your skin against the warmth of the sun. “Hey, silly! What are you still doing over there?” You turned your head to see a small figure in the distance beckoning you over to her. It was hard to make out who exactly it was, but you could see her smile even from where you were sitting. Your lips stretched across your face into a grin and you stood onto your feet, the wind picking up as you skipped over in her direction, yet as you came closer to her, she started running away from you, her small giggles were familiar and comforting as if you were playing a game.

She led you into a forest, the shade from the trees replacing the heat of the sunlight with a sudden chill that caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You kept trying to catch up to her, but she continued to stray further from you until suddenly you stopped hearing her laughter. The leaves under your feet crunched and when you looked down, you found that you had been barefoot this whole time. Not only that, the leaves had dark spots, as if someone had splattered paint on them. Looking past the few under your feet, you saw that it created a trail even deeper into the trees and so you followed its path. As you continued to pursue this unconventional trail, the sky grew darker and your skin grew colder. Your heart began to palpitate with every step you took until you had reached the end of the flat ground before it tapered harshly downward. At the bottom of the steep hill was a river which you recognized as the one by school. The sound of water gushing filled your ears, and day turned to night in the blink of an eye.

Your attention was suddenly caught by something dark along the bank. You froze, your breathing sped up until it no longer felt like any air would come out—you were now choking, your throat constricting around nothing. Reaching your arm out, you tried to grab for the figure, for her, but she was too far away. Suddenly the ground felt like it was stretching, the distance between you growing at a hyperbolic speed until she was out of sight, the world suddenly black.

———

Your body shot up in a cold sweat, your lungs working double time as you panted, trying to regain some oxygen you had lost in your sleep. There was a quiet, gentle knock on the door. Grabbing your phone, you checked the time. 9:00 AM. The blinds in your room were slightly open, allowing in a bit of sunlight through the cracks.

You threw your legs over the edge of your bed and slipped your feet into your dorm slippers. You opened the blinds fully so that the room would look less like a dungeon and more like, well, anything else. Turning around, you headed to the door to address the source of the knocking. A boy stood outside with his hands behind his back, his eyes elsewhere until he saw your face.

“Hey,” he said with an awkward smile.

“Hey,” you echoed back.

“You kind of look like shit,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Fuck off, Chan.” He was probably right. You weren’t sure what time you had passed out yesterday, but you most certainly had been asleep for well over twelve hours.

Chan also held a position in the Social Club and 17K; his father not only was a member of the board of trustees at the Academy, but also an alum of the club as well which made Chan a legacy. This set him up well to take over once Seungcheol graduated next year. No one would really be able to dispute the appointment, and besides, Chan was an upstanding student—he was diligent in his studies, usually the one to keep you and Seokmin focused on the chapter at hand. Most people would consider him to be “righteous,” the kind of guy who would sit with you at lunch if he saw you sitting alone. And actually, that’s how the two of you met. Hyeyoon had an emergency meeting for debate team, leaving you to eat your school lunch (which, despite going to a rich private school, was absolute shit) alone. How could you say ‘no’ when he flashed his innocent grin at you, asking if he could sit with you? You and Chan were friends, and he was one of the very few people you bothered to associate with at this school. Even though he was the cream of the crop, one of the most elite students, he was still humble and kind, and that’s why the older members of 17K made him the chair of recruitment. It was a job that came easy to him since people were often, if not always, drawn to his boyish charms.

“What are you doing here?” you interrogated.

“Oh, um… this.” Moving his arms from behind him, he revealed a beige A6 envelope with a shimmery red wax seal on it. You took the envelope from him, inspecting the ‘S.C’ on it, wondering what the Social Club could possibly want with, or from, you.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“Jihoon—I mean, we are holding a memorial. You know, for Hyeyoon.”

Your heart dropped hearing her name and ‘memorial’ in the same sentence. “Oh,” was all you could manage in response.

“I—I mean, we would love it if you came. Maybe you could say a few words? We know how close you were with her.”

Your eyes fell on the envelope again, your thumb running over the grooves and ridges of the wax seal. You didn’t know that even something as simple as paper could feel bougie. “Um, y-yeah. Sure. I can do that, I think.”

“You don’t have to,” Chan retorted quickly, “if you don’t want to.”

“No, I-I should go,” you assured him, a gentle smile gracing your face for extra measure.

“Cool. Do you need anything? Besides a shower?”

You smacked him on the arm which elicited a laugh from him, and shook your head. “I’m okay.”

“Okay, well, let me know, alright?”

“Will do, Mr. Legacy.”

“Stop calling me that,” he replied, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth in a frown. It was because of things like this that you appreciated Chan—his status and social standing in life never made you feel lesser because that wasn’t something he wanted to be defined, or confined, by.

“Never,” you teased. “I’ll be there,” you added, raising the envelope.

“Good.” Chan smiled back at you before turning to leave. You were about to shut the door when he stopped in his tracks and turned back around. You raised your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Do you maybe… wanna help with the memorial?”

The joking smile you had on your face quickly went away as you stared at him, unsure of what he just asked you. “Am I allowed to do that?”

He shrugged. “You were her best friend. I don’t see why not.”

“There’s no way the other members are okay with this. Besides, you have Jihoon, Jun, Wonwoo, everyone knows her. What do you need me for?”

“It’s a memorial, not an exclusive club event. The whole school knew her, but nobody knew her like you did.” He had a point, but the idea of having to spend more time than necessary around people like them didn’t sound too appealing.

“Chan, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

His eyebrows turned downward; he was getting frustrated now. “Why not? She was your best friend, wasn’t she?”

“She still is.”

Reality hit and that’s when Chan realized what the problem was.

“She’s dead,” he replied, his voice cold as ice. “Gone. She’s never coming back.”

Chan was sweet, but he wasn’t perfect. He knew the weight his words carried, but being the realist that he was, he couldn’t stand to see you living in some kind of fantasy world where she was still alive.

“Fuck you.” You stepped back and slammed the door on him, turning your back to lean against it as you slumped to the floor. That dull ache returned to your chest as you fiddled with the little beige envelope in your hands. You had half a mind to rip it to shreds, and in fact, you almost did if it weren’t for the picture of Hyeyoon that appeared when you tore the thick paper halfway. You stopped yourself, instead carefully opening the sides of the envelope and pulling out the thick cardstock. She was beautiful, as she always was, and you traced your finger over her long dark hair, your eyes falling to her signature dimple when she smiled. You missed her. You missed the way her eyes would gleam when she saw you in the hallway, and the way her laughter was maniacal but in a cute and endearing way.

Overlaying her photo was her name written in large, gold cursive lettering. It was all becoming too real. Chan was right. She was gone. It had been a traumatizing couple of weeks for you, as it would be for anyone who had lost their best friend, but this memorial was the icing on the cake. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, dropping along your cheek and onto the half-torn invitation.

‘You’re invited to celebrate and honor the life of Lee Hyeyoon. May she live on forever in our hearts.’ You couldn’t help but scoff at the last line. Cheesy pricks. This was the best they could come up with?

Breaking your train of thoughts was the sound of your vibrating phone. It was a text from Chan:

I asked the guys. They said it was cool if u helped out. I think u should. Lmk.

Then, another vibration.

Sry abt earlier. Hope u can forgive me.

A tiny bout of laughter fell upon you, one caused by both amusement and disbelief. Leaning your head against the door, you took a deep breath, your nose now stuffy from crying. Outside your window, the sun was shining, the sky was a brilliant blue, and not a single cloud was in sight—a stark contrast from the weather the past few weeks. Your eyes fell upon the invitation once more; it wasn’t bad, per se, but it also wasn’t great. It seemed like the type of thing that came out of a Hallmark catalog for the dead. Maybe they did need your help after all.

And maybe by doing this, you could come to terms with the guilt that burdened your heart.

Maybe this way, you could say goodbye to her. Properly.

chapter three ↦

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echo-hiraeth · 3 years

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Chapter 10: One of those long-sleeved dresses

Part of the “Ilicit Limerence” series

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: The pressure is on now that the government is negotiating with Escobar. The team decides to take the edge off, but when it comes to it, Javier can’t keep calm.

Warnings: swearing, angst, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, nudity, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, alcohol

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A/n: Hello sweethearts! My sincere apologies for going MIA, I had a really rough week with tonnes of deadlines, but accept this 6k plus chapter! Let me know what you think. Lots of love!

“He did what now?”, Connie questioned, brow quirked in amusement as she sipped on her wine.

You cackled along with her, fingers playing with the stem of a wine glass, which was filled with orange juice. “I’m serious, he’s surrendering his key this weekend!”

“Well would you look at that, Javier Peña settling down huh?”, she smiled, clinking her glass to yours, “I don’t know how, but you did it.”

“I’ll cheers to that, sister”, you gloated, the smile on your face just getting bigger and bigger as the night went on.

The boys were out together, leaving you and Connie alone with the baby. Olivia had been sound asleep for about an hour now and as soon as that baby monitor didn’t detect any fussy noises, it was go-time. How she got the drinks out that fast, you hadn’t a clue, but you weren’t complaining when she got out the chips as well. Seeing how you were back to work and she had a kid to take care of, you hadn’t seen one another a lot this week, but tonight you were just hanging out, catching up.

“How’s the clinic been?”

She sighed, letting her head fall back on the couch. “Sometimes I wish you would just quit and join me already. I swear they only speak in Spanish to spite me.”

You huffed out a laugh, only laughing harder as the two of you locked eyes. It was one of those moments that didn’t make sense, but was hilarious nonetheless. You clutched your stomach as a cramp threatened to come up. “Okay – okay, stop, stop, stop”, you yelped, struggling to catch your breath as you kept laughing.

Connie was wheezing at this point, doubling over as well, the rest of her red wine spilling into your lap. “Aha – shit that hurts”, she gasped, rubbing at her cheeks as they cramped up.

You took a few deep breaths, finally having stopped giggling away. In one swift motion you took the fragile glass from her hands. “Alright, alright, Murphy, you’re too drunk to keep this going.”

“Oh come oooon, it’s my house, I call last round!”, she whined, reaching for the bottle on the coffee table.

You jerked it away just in time, holding it over your head as she groaned and rolled her eyes. “Connie, I’m serious, you have a baby to take care of tomorrow, go get ready for bed.”

She pouted, dragging herself up off the couch as she slumped towards the bathroom. “You’re no fuuuun.”

Shaking your head, you walked over to the kitchen, rinsing the glasses and putting the half-empty bottle in the fridge while your friend attended to her business in the small bathroom. It was a little past midnight now, just about time for the guys to come back too, in fact they were a little late already. The three of you still had work in the morning, considering it was a Thursday night, but no-one other than you seemed to give it much thought.

Some stumbling in the general direction of the two backrooms caught your attention, drying your hands before hurrying your way over to the bathroom. Only there wasn’t anyone there. You peeked into the bedroom, seeing your friend sprawled out on top of the duvet, still fully dressed. Her husband could take care of that. She’d knocked the alarm clock over, successfully unplugging it from the wall in the process. You picked it up, putting it back into place before heading back into the kitchen. Being the good friend that you were, you filled up a glass of water and along with an aspirin, put it on her nightstand. She’d thank you in the morning.

Once back in the living room, you cleaned up the messes, stowing away the snacks in the cupboard and washing the dirty dishes in the sink. By the time you were putting everything back into its spot, clock striking past one, the door swung open. They were mid-conversation, Steve way too loud for your liking, drunk out of his mind. Well, they were married after all – you thought, thinking back of your passed out friend.

Javier seemed fine, supporting Steve as he guided him onto the couch, shooting you an annoyed glare halfway through. You rested a hand on your lower back, trying to ease the pain as you just watched the two of them, Steve’s hand grabbing towards you.

“She’s maaaad”, he noted, giving Javier a look.

You bit back a chuckle, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, instead just motioning towards the door. The other man understood, slowly nodding before throwing a balled-up blanket at his partner. “See you at the office, Murphy.”

He grabbed your coat off the hanger, opening the door as he waited for you. You pecked his cheek in passing, taking the coat from him as you put it on, the coldness in the hallway already making you shiver. “M’sorry hermosa”, he sighed slinging a warm arm around you.

“How much did you have?”, you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked down to the lobby.

“About three, I’m good to drive”, he replied, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of your head.

It was a difficult night, having to run to the bathroom every other half hour as either your bladder or stomach pestered you. Javier was sleeping soundly, his whiskey tending to have that effect. You’d hit him over the head if you didn’t love him as much as you did. The acid reflux was killing you, no matter how upright you sat. You were never touching orange juice again, you vowed, fuck that.

Javier woke up to you sitting up against the headboard, neck at an awkward angle as you softly snored. It was then he noticed the bucket by the bedside, empty, but still there as a precaution. He’d let you sleep a little longer, off to the kitchen to prepare a breakfast while he woke up fully. As he flipped his omelette you shuffled out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes as you stubbed your right into the couch.

“Motherfucker”, you exclaimed, pursing your lips in pain.

He grinned from his spot in the kitchen, winking as you flipped him an early morning bird. “Sit down before you break a leg.”

You plopped down on the chair, cradling your head in your hands out of sheer misery. You were exhausted and had an excruciating pain in your neck and back, not to mention how raw your throat felt, the acid reflux having left its mark. “Would you mind grabbing a coffee at work? I-I don’t feel particularly well.”

He put two plates on the table, sitting down next to you, resting a hand on your upper back. “Should’ve woken me up”, he mumbled, keeping hand there as he started digging in.

“Wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyway. Thank you for cooking”, you smiled, starting on your own plate.

The rest of the morning was slow, Javier proving to be very helpful as he rinsed your hair for you. There was nothing sexual about it, just simply wanting to ease things for you. You’d been okay for most of the week, morning sickness seemingly gone, but last night’s shenanigans got you good. On top of that your jeans didn’t button, stomach starting to protrude a bit more in your ninth week. Whether it was the exhaustion, annoyance or a culmination of everything at this point, you didn’t know, but you broke down into tears.

“Corazón?”, he asked, barging into the room, cupping your face in both hands. “What’s wrong, what happened?”

“I-I don’t know really, just my jeans don’t fit and – and”, you couldn’t speak anymore, just crying it out, keening into his touch as his thumbs swiped the salty tears away.

He let go with one hand, bringing it down to the denim, softly inching it down your legs. “Weather’s nice enough today, why don’t you wear one of those long-sleeved dresses? Casual Friday was still a thing last time I checked.”

You huffed out a breathy laugh, hiding your face in the safety of his shoulder. “God Javi, I’m such a mess. Are you sure you wanna move in with this?”, you asked half-joking.

“Stop that”, he groaned, lifting your chin to tangle his lips with yours. “You are the most gorgeous, smart, funny, beautiful, passionate and sexy woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Now put on that cute dress or I will throw you onto that bed and make sure you know just how riled up you get me.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, smiling as you did so, stepping out of your jeans before tiptoeing over to your wardrobe. He watched you as you slipped on the dress, fishing a pair of tights from your bottom drawer. You sat on the edge of the bed, rolling up the tights before slipping a first leg onto your foot, carefully hoisting them up, being mindful not to rip them with your longer nails.

In a passing motion, Javier vowed to rip them off of you later that same day.

In preparation of new measures, you had to sit through another couple meetings and to say they were boring, would’ve been an understatement. You and Javier sat close to one another, Steve sat on the chair between the two of you. He’d noticed you were struggling to keep up, eyes drooping as the search block just went on and on. After about an hour, a break was announced, which was much-needed. Everyone got up as you remained seated, not entirely sure of what was happening, attention span completely missing.

Steve got up as well, leaving the room to fetch some caffeinated drinks for the three of you. But Javi stayed put, scooting closer as he cautiously touched your arm. “Hey, what’s going on?”, he hovered, spinning your chair around to face him.

You stretched your arms over your head, letting out a loud yawn. “’M just sleepy.”

“I know baby, couple more hours. Why don’t you take the couch in the office during lunch?”, he suggested, leaning back in his own chair.

“Hmm, wouldn’t be fair to the two of you, really”, you sighed, standing up to stretch your legs.

He stood as well, bringing you in closer to capture your lips in short-lived kiss. “Go walk around the office for a bit, it’ll wake you up. Steve’s bringing you some of that tea.”

“Thank you Javi, you’re a hero”, you praised, dragging him down for another kiss. “Be back in ten.”

You meandered your way into the restrooms, finishing up at the sink, dunking your tingling hands under the cold water. Once dry you put your cold hands up against your neck, hoping that the temperature shock would help you out of your drowsy state. It did to a certain extent, the icy cold feel of your fingers on your warm skin making you shiver a bit.

Fuck – you craved that sweet kickstart of coffee, but even just passing by the small kitchenette, the odour was too pungent, nearly making you wretch. You nose scrunched up in revulsion, you quickened your pace, hoping to get away before any nausea could settle in. It was then you felt the familiar hot liquid tickling down your chest, letting out a yelp as it scorched your tender skin.

“Shit – are you alright ma’am?”, an unfamiliar voice sounded.

You peeled the fabric of your dress away from you, to relieve some of the heat. “That’s gonna stain”, you joked, trying to divert your attention from the burn on your skin.

“At least it’s a memorable introduction”, he chuckled, dipping his head into the kitchenette to grab a hold of the tissue box. “Stechner, Bill, I’m CIA.”

You pulled a set of tissues from the box, stuffing these between your body and dress, trying to alleviate the two, creating somewhat of a barrier. As you dabbed away you told him your name, which resulted in a raised brow. “Am I wanted or something?”, you quipped, trying to rub some of the stains out of the fabric.

“You’re partnered with Murphy and Peña, are you not?”

“That I am, speaking of which, I have a briefing to rush to”, you laughed awkwardly, the look he was giving you nothing short of unnerving.

He gave you a smirk. “I do hope we run into one another again, ma’am.”

You shivered at the comment, hastily making your way back to the conference room. They’d already picked up again, conversation in full-swing as you cracked the door open, wordlessly retaking your seat. You got some looks, no doubt because of the huge stain on your front and wide-eyes.

You certainly didn’t feel sleepy anymore. The feeling now overtaken by one of discomfort and unease as your clothes clung to you, the tissues already soaked through. Steve handed you a cup of green tea, face contorting in confusion. You made a gesture of dismissal, it clearly not being the place and time for an explanation. But the meeting was cut short as Noonan was whisked away by her assistant, clearly a matter of urgency, if not emergency.

The two men directed their attention in your direction, tilting their heads almost synchronically. “Who the fuck is Stechner and why does he hate both of you”, you demanded, clearly not amused.

“Stechner? Oh that’s all Javi. Ya see, your sweet menace of a boyfriend has had some communistic tendencies in the past”, the blonde taunted.

“Murphy. Watch your mouth”, Javier warned, throwing his friend a death-glare.

Your mouth fell open in shock and something along the lines of amusement. “You slept with a communist?”

Steve and you shared a glance, both sputtering out a string of laughter as Javier just sat there, looking up at the ceiling. “That was years ago. Now cut your bullshit, both of you. Stechner’s just an entitled asshole.”

The two of you calmed down, catching your breath as Javier grew steadily more annoyed, giving you an angry glare. “Oh come on, at least let me laugh about your hook-ups!”

Murphy clapped Javi on his back, mumbling about getting back to work as he exited the room, leaving the two of you alone once again.

“Is that why you wanna get out of that apartment, get rid of the evidence?”, you continued mocking him.

He took a few strides towards you, placing a hand on the wall beside you, towering over you. With the proximity you could feel the soft tickle of his huffs on your lips as you stared up at him. “I’m warning you, hermosa, you don’t want to go there.”

Something about his tone made it difficult for you to determine whether he was being genuine or not. For fear of aggravating him, you decided to shut up and not press on it anymore. “Lo siento cielo”, you croaked out suddenly feeling very self-aware as he brought up his other hand to rest on the opposite side of your face.

He looked you over, gaze lingering on your dress. “Mi corazón, ¿te hizo daño?“ (My heart, did he hurt you?)

Words didn’t come to you, mind overtaken by his cologne and frankly how tempting his lips looked right about now. He cleared his throat, making your eyes dart upwards. “Yeah, yeah – I mean no! No! I’m fine.”

His lips were slightly parted as he indulged in the desperate look you gave him, fingertips softly stroking your neck. “Should probably change out of that dress”, he muttered, lips ghosting over yours, “unless you need some help.”

You couldn’t help yourself as you threw yourself against him, lips painfully colliding with his in a bruising kiss. His hands found themselves on your hips, drifting towards the curve of your behind. “If you don’t stop now we’re gonna get in a lot of trouble”, you cautioned, supressing a moan as his fingers squeezed your ass.

“Cierto.. pero quítate ese vestido, estás empapada”, he groans, slipping his hands under the skirt. (True.. but you need to take that dress off, it’s soaking wet.)

You nodded fervently, pushing your hips into his, panting: “Supply closet, spare t-shirts.”

With your hand held in his, he hauled you towards said closet, making sure to be quick, not wanting to attract unwanted attention. It had to be a quickie, unless you wanted the whole office to know. So you hastily slipped the dress over your head and Javi ripped your tights down, leaving a run or four in your hose. He forcefully shoved his trousers down his hips, taking himself out of his boxers.

You sat on top of some plastic bins filled with spare supplies, legs spread as he moved to stand in between them. There was no time to be gentle, only to take the edge off. He had to lean over a bit, notching himself at your entrance before slowly pushing, bottoming out. You let out a breathy whimper, which resulted in one of his palms clasping over your mouth. His strokes grew more and more aggressive, the need to be closer to you spurring him on even more. The muffled noises you made were enticing to him, almost as if you were begging him to keep going, show you just who was to be in charge. And so he did. His pace was on the verge of brutal as he drilled into you, the metal racks behind you squeaking and rocking along in rhythm with his tempo. When you head tipped backwards and your eyes closed he knew you were close. He moved his hand to replace it with his mouth, swallowing down the sweet, filthy sounds as you hit your peak, closing your legs around him, locking him into place as he came. His lips left yours with an audible sigh, his forehead resting on your collarbone as he caught his breath.

The two of you cleaned up in the small space, stealing kisses left and right. With every sweep of his calloused fingers across your bare thighs you felt your heart flutter. But eventually, after he found you a pair of joggers that wouldn’t fall off and a t-shirt that wouldn’t be too tight you got dressed.

“How’s it look? Everything you ever hoped for?”, you joked, showing of the baggy, nonchalant outfit.

He pulled you flush against his chest, smirking before embracing you. “Muy hermosa, corazón. You head out first, I’ll bring some lunch.”

With one last peck you left the closet, trying to act as normal as possible with your ripped tights and stained dress under your arm. The post-coital lethargy mixed in with the lack of sleep soon had you struggling to stay awake again. As soon as you plopped down in your rigid desk chair you felt the familiar heaviness settle in your limbs.

“Am I really that boring?”, Steve quipped, not looking up from whatever he was reading.

You straightened up a bit, rolling your shoulders. “Sorry Murph, didn’t really sleep last night.”

“I noticed you looking a little green earlier. Take the couch, I’ll move the boxes so you can lay down”, he offered, already getting up out of his chair.

“It’s okay really, I’ll just get another cup of tea”, you ushered, knowing fully well you were expected to type a whole report by the end of the day based off of someone else’s notes.

Steve walked over to your desk, snatching the notepad out of your hands. “You’re pregnant for God’s sake, go lay down or I’ll have Noonan send you home.”

After some more bickering you’d agreed to switch tasks and that you would be reading up on previous reports and strategy proposals while he’d type the report for you. But after barely three pages your eyes just shut on their own. When Javier came back about twenty minutes later, the folder, still clutched in your hands, laid on your chest, softly rising and falling. He nodded towards his partner, gesturing for him to come grab his lunch. Meanwhile Javier sat down on the end of your couch where your feet laid, carefully placing them in his lap.

“What the fuck do you do to her?”, Steve asked jokingly.

Javier took his lunch out of the plastic bag, replying without looking up: “I dick her down.” Later he added a quiet: “like you’re supposed to.”

When by the end of lunchbreak you were still out, Javier decided to stay put. With your legs resting in his lap he grabbed a hold of the folder on your chest, starting to intently read it. It was in that moment that Steve pulled the old polaroid camera from the bottom drawer, snapping a sneaky picture as the two of you just sat there, somehow entangled with one another wherever you were.

He put the picture in his top drawer, not wanting to interrupt your little moment as Javier rubbed small circles on your ankle, sunken in thought. Today would be the deciding day, and everyone was anxiously awaiting the government’s next move. Though they all knew in the back of their heads, that no matter the decision, it wouldn’t change shit.

It was just a little past one when the news got delivered, some fellow agent sticking their head in to tell them: Escobar’s deal was accepted. La Catedral would become a reality. Javier flung the files onto the ground, tipping his head back as he heaved a disappointed sigh. All those years of chasing, murder and devastating guilt just for Escobar to get away once again.

Steve took note of his partner’s annoyance and never related more. “We’ll get him eventually. For now, we take out the smaller guys. He might’ve won this one, but the fight ain’t over yet Peña.”

Javier rubbed his chin, the other hand still resting on your ankles as he tried to keep his cool. He just couldn’t stop thinking about everything he’d done, seeing the faces of those damn informants flash before his eyes with every blink. The shots he’d fired rang in his ears, making him gnash his teeth. His fingers wrapped around your leg in a bruising grip, only getting more and more forceful. You jolted awake, drawing for a weapon on your belt that wasn’t there, panting as you locked eyes with him. He promptly released his hold of your leg, instead moving to take a hold of your shoulders, steadying you.

“What happened?”, you asked, the scattered papers on the ground enough of an indication for you to know that there was something off.

His lips were pursed together in a thin line, eyes avoiding yours as you got up off the couch. “They agreed”, Steve explained.

Your mouth hung open a bit as you looked at your friend, crossing your arms in front of you as you gave an exasperated huff. “Of course they fucking did.”

The two of you went home early that day, the car ride uncomfortably silent. You’d noticed the sheer rage and resentment in the way he walked. Without a word you’d taken the keys from him, climbing into the driver’s seat. He looked out of the window the entire time, not bothering to look at the road, or you for that matter. Whatever was happening in that brain of his had a vice grip on him and you weren’t sure if he’d let you help him out.

“Do you want to get some take-out?”

He whipped his head around to face you, noting the way your fingers flexed against the leather of the steering wheel. “What now?”

“F-for dinner. Do you want take-out?”, you stuttered, feeling small under his burning gaze.

A muttered “whatever” was all you were given, his eyes once again trained on the world outside of his window.

Not wanting to elongate the duration of the drive any more, you decided against it, knowing that you had some things left in the fridge. The walk up to your apartment was equally awkward and tense. But when his key didn’t immediately turn in the lock and he banged a fist against the wall, you knew what kind of a night it would be. You gently took the piece of metal from his hand, calmly unlocking the door before letting him in.

“Javi, baby, why don’t you grab a shower while I get dinner started?”, you suggested, setting down your bag by the door.

He kicked his shoes off, humming an agreement before shuffling off towards the bed- and bathroom. When you heard the shower turn on, you felt like you could finally breathe again. You’d seen him angry before, especially when dealing with sicarios first hand, but here, in private – in the comfort of the apartment, it was somewhat unsettling. You got out of the cupboards what you needed, and started washing some veggies while turning the tv on.

When he emerged from the bedroom, loose t-shirt and jeans, damp hair, you gave him a small smile. He pressed a quick kiss to your temple on his way to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of beer. “You smell nice”, you cooed, stepping closer to him as you reached for the glass of water.

“You’d hope so after using all of that bodywash bullshit”, he grumped.

“I’ve been reading up on those pamphlets the doctor gave me”, you started, turning your head towards him, “and it says the baby is about the size of cherry now.”

He gave you a look, shrugging his shoulders before walking off with his plate. “Not really in the mood for baby-talk.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Anything you’d like to talk about?”, you tried, sitting down on the chair across from his.

He shoved a large bite into his mouth, hunching over a bit. “Nothing.”

You stopped trying after that, just finished your plate and got started on the dishes. Javier brought you his plate and went to have a seat on the couch. You rolled your eyes, scoffing softly, clearly not amused with his antics. I he wanted to be like this about it, then you weren’t going to stick around for it. So when all of the dishes were put away, you headed towards the bedroom, not bothering to talk to him.

Stepping into the bathroom, you locked the door, putting his soaked towels in the hamper. As you cleaned up the water on the floor, you ran a bath, desperately wanting to assuage your aching spine. You wanted to talk to him about, but knew better. If he wanted to talk he’d come to you about it – right? Or was he pulling some reverse psychology shenanigans, really just wanting you to talk to him? Your head was spinning by the time you lowered yourself into the warm water, a pleasurable whine leaving your lips at the contact.

Once the water got cold you got out, wrapping yourself in the fluffy towels you laid out before slipping into some softer pyjamas. You got ready for bed, seeing how you were still exhausted and treated yourself to the “nice-smelling-expensive lotion” for once. By the time you stepped into the bedroom again, door still slightly ajar, Javier was still in the living room. Seeing how it was not even seven yet, you concluded that it would be too early to go to bed and that you could catch up on some housework first. So you emptied the hamper and headed into the kitchen, basket under your arm, trying to get to the laundry room.

Javier looked up from where he laid on the couch. He was on his fifth beer by now, but craved something stronger. He reached for the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table, his need for relief overwhelming at that point. His fingers trembled as he went to light it, closing his eyes in relief as the nicotine hit the back of his throat.

You shut the washer’s door, punching in the right controls before heading back into the kitchen. As you walked into the living space again, you noticed the plumes of smoke trickling upwards. With your hands on your hips you cleared your throat, successfully capturing his attention. “Thought we had an agreement on those?”

“It’s just one”, he groaned, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Take it outside then, you have a damn sunroof, balcony and shared terrace, plenty of options”, you tutted, not putting up with his attitude.

He turned around to look at you, raising a brow at you. “Will you stop bitching already? It’s just a cigarette.”

“In case you forgot, pendejo, I’m still pregnant”, you retorted, marching over to grab a hold of the pack.

He stood up, burning cigarette pursed between his lips. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

You yanked the balcony door open, throwing the pack over the railing. “You want your precious smokes, well go fucking get them.”

“Are you fucking crazy?”, he sneered, stepping out onto the balcony.

“I think it’s better if you go home tonight”, you said in a hushed tone.

He gave you an offended look, the smoke lingering in his breath as it fanned across your face. “Over a cigarette?”

“If you don’t want to open up to me then I can’t help you”, you explained, turning away from him.

His form towered over you as he stepped closer, chests nearly touching, a stern hand on your elbow. “Open up to you? And when exactly were you ever open with me? Because last time I checked I’m not the one signing a settlement because it’s convenient.”

“Let go of me”, you ordered, glaring into his eyes.

“You’re being unreasonable”, he pressed, grip on your arm tightening.

You tried to wiggle out, whining at the intensity of his grasp. “You’re scaring me Javier, let go”, you pleaded, voice shakier than before.

“You’re gonna listen first. You’ve been down here for two years and that’s barely anything. Compared to Murphy, to me, you’ve had it easy. Let me catch you up to speed, you haven’t killed anyone, you haven’t washed someone else’s blood off of your hands. You haven’t lost anything or anyone here. You, little miss perfect, have nothing to whine about. So when your boyfriend comes home after a rough day, let him have a drink and cigarette and maybe offer to suck him off.”

Tears had started forming in your eyes. This wasn’t the Javi you knew, even at his worst, this wasn’t the agent you were familiar with. It reminded you of that night where he showed up at your apartment, before he knew you were pregnant, when he fucked you and left. It made you feel sick.

“Who are you?”, you spat, untangling yourself from him. “I’m here for you every day, loving you, hoping to make you happy and this is what I get from you?” He didn’t say anything to that, just faced away from you. “If that is how you want things to be, then you need to leave.” Your voice started faltering, the emotion taking over. “I’ll be in my bedroom, if you want to talk whatever this out, then I suggest you join me and think about what the hell you need to say very carefully.”

His head hung low as you disappeared into the apartment, the sound of your muffled sobs stinging in his chest. He hadn’t meant for it to sound that harsh or condescending. He knew perfectly well what you had been going through both in and out of the field. Truth is, he was completely out of line and felt like a complete dick. It was a defence mechanism he had yet to get rid of. Javier wasn’t used to somebody helping him just because, that’s not the way things went here in Bogotá. There was always a catch, always something, whether it was money, power or information, there was always something.

You were his girlfriend, he knew that, he just wasn’t used to it yet. You telling him to leave the apartment – your apartment at that had angered him even more and made his reaction all the worse. He tried to take those vital deep breaths, trying to figure out a way to make it up to you. He remembered you complaining that your favourite ice cream flavour was always out in the store. So he got inside, put on his jacket and shoes and headed for the shops.

When you heard the door close, you cried into your pillow. It felt like a middle finger to the face and for a moment you thought that this could be it. This could be the time that he realised he wasn’t up for this. The following twenty minutes were the most painful ones yet. You thought you were hallucinating when the door cracked open again, shuffling out of your bedroom to see Javier standing in the doorway, plastic bag in hand.

“I – I uh, I went to get some stuff, so we can talk”, he stumbled, toeing his shoes off.

You cracked a small smile at him, beckoning for him to sit down on the couch with you. He grabbed some spoons from the kitchen before joining you. As he sat down you grabbed the tub of ice cream from the bag, eyes going wide. “Oh my God, how did you-“

“I asked them to set some aside last time we went”, he confessed, cracking the lid off for you. “Seemed like a good truce.”

You sunk the first spoon into your mouth, eyes rolling back as you moaned at the taste. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

He chuckled at the sight of you devouring the creamy goods, carefully scooting a bit closer. When you didn’t try to get away he slid an arm around you, pulling you against his chest. “Lo siento por lo de esta tarde. That was way out of line, I shouldn’t have said any of that.” (I’m sorry about earlier.)

“Shut up and try this ice cream, we’ll talk after”, you tutted, shoving a spoonful in his mouth.

The two of you ate the entire tub together, often interrupting the spoon shoving for a sweet, lingering kiss. By the time the tub was empty your legs were draped over his, head resting on one of his collarbones. He was just looking at you, tenderly caressing your cheek.

“I’ve done a lot of heinous shit just to get to Escobar.. so what happened today, it just set me off. It really shouldn’t have, I try not to let it come through when I’m with you but I slipped up.” You didn’t speak or interrupt, just let him say his piece while your softly scratched at his scalp. “I slept with those informants to get crucial information, intel that helped us a long way. But I also just slept with them to get everything out of my system. And then there was you and a month after we slept together I stopped seeing the other girls, even when they’d show up at my door. But there was this girl, a sweet girl really, that was so desperate to get out of here.. it didn’t end well and I couldn’t fucking protect her.”

“Javi, baby, look at me”, you cooed, shifting to straddle his lap. “That girl did what she thought was right, she wanted to escape. It’s not your fault, you did everything you could for her.”

He rested his head against your sternum, wrapping his arms around you to have you just that tad bit closer. “I’ve killed so many people, I’ve done so much fucked up shit.”

“Javier, you’re so much more than that. I adore you, I know you’re a good man. Good people do bad things, it’s the way things go around here. That day out in the small district, you nagging about my vest? You saved my life. And what we’ve got going on, us and this baby, it’s a good thing, something you deserve, Javier.”

He pressed a kiss to the left side of your chest, close to your heart. “You’re the one thing keeping me sane.”

“I try my best”, you chuckled.

“Stop being so amazing, I can’t take it”, he joked, kissing his way up your neck.

You grabbed a hold of his face, having him look up at you. “Javier Peña, I’m in love with you and all your quirks. But if you smoke one more cigarette in this here apartment, I will kick you out.”

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#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena #javier pena x reader #illicit limerence #imagine #narcos

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rhysreece · 4 years

Text

Just One Cup

1/7

It is a well known fact that poison is an efficient, if excruciatingly painful, way to die. It is also a well known fact that Patton does not like snakes. This, of course, does not bode well for Janus, especially in the run up to Patton's birthday, and Halloween. He still has the scars from last Halloween, jagged and pale across his body. So, he has decided this year will be different, and that fact won't change. He is, of course, sorely mistaken.

He does well for the first couple of weeks. Narrowly missing a poorly hidden drop into a pit of spikes, which he needs to talk to Roman about filling, now he thinks about it. Staying in his room for three days straight to avoid what he could only assume to be chainsaws perpetually running outside his door. Comically large mouse traps, hammers, and even a stick of explosives, which Remus happily swallowed whole. Logan's only explanation for Remus' continued survival was a very disgruntled 'Cartoon logic.' It appears to be a sore spot for him, so Janus leaves it alone, turning to his only source of relaxation, tea.

Three weeks of attempted murder have left Janus overly paranoid, and utterly miserable. So much so that he isn't sure if the dark ring under his good eye is from his visit to Virgil, whilst being chased by a large boulder, or the permanent state of semi-exhaustion that seems to cling to him like the mist of a cemetery. Then, an idea. It's been far too long since he took care of himself, so he decides to run himself a bath, light some candles, grab a face mask, realises he's forgotten his tea downstairs, goes to grab it, and locks the door, intent on a bit of peace and quiet. And he gets it.

Until he starts drinking his tea, that is. In the beginning, it starts off as just a tickling at the back of his throat. Odd, but not unusual for him. Certainly not concerning. Then it starts to burn, the roof of his mouth drying up, leaving him parched, but he shrugs it off as acid reflux, and looks for some antacids.

When Janus looks in the mirror on the door to the medicine cupboard, however, the veins on his face are pronounced and throbbing, his face is a sickly shade of green, his scales dull in a way only achieved by illness. His pulse is quickening to the point of pain as he begins to panic, breath coming less and less easily. He realises his nose is bleeding, and he starts to suspect something is wrong.

His suspicions are confirmed when his stomach flares up with a searing pain only comparable to a blade, driven straight through the gut. It churns and shifts, spasming in painful, debilitating waves. He stumbles to the sink, gripping it so tightly, his knuckles have gone white. His head swims as he tries to move, fuzzy and soft, but enough to feel the pain.

His blood burns, coursing through veins like magma, too slow and somehow too fast, at the same time. His breathing quickens further, and is this a panic attack, is this something else, he doesn't know but it hurts it hurts so much and he tries to call to move to do anything but his arms are numb and the only noise he can make is a cracked, near-silent croak.

As his legs give out, as he crumples, the weight of his own body too much to bear on trembling legs, as his head hits the edge of the tub with a sickening crack that resounds through his skull, his world goes white with pain for a moment, and doesn't clear, leaving him sprawled on the floor, half blind and fading.

He notes that despite his claims, he is afraid to die, and the cold gripping at his every shallow breath, the all consuming darkness is too soon, death should not take him yet he is not ready. Finally, as the world spins on its axis and fades, he realises two things. First, that the countdown to Halloween has begun. And second, he probably won't be around to see it.

It's hours before Roman breaks down the door, complaining about needing a shower, and understandably too. He's covered in blood, viscera, dirt, and has twigs stuck in his princely coiff. However, any complaining is cut short as he stops dead, looking at the scene.

Janus, crumpled on the floor in a broken imitation of the fetal position, his skin tinged green and sallow, hair and clothes matted with still-wet blood, froth and yet more blood dried around his gaping, parched mouth, eyes open in a look of terror held only by those faced by their own mortality, a look he's seen on the business end of his blade before.

He kneels down, closing Janus' lifeless eyes, and picking up the body not yet rigid with death. And as he thinks aloud;

"This can't be a good sign."

He realises that maybe, just maybe, Logan has the right idea in trying to hide it out, but the growing feeling of dread in his stomach (the spot vacant as hs stomach had dropped to around knee level upon seeing Janus) tells him that he won't be seeing Logan for a while.

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anotherwellkeptsecret · 5 years

Text

Alrighty. Time to type up my surgery and recovery experience.

When I got my pacemaker two years ago, I spent a year (almost exactly) drawing a comic called Change of Pace, which helped me kinda process what happened to me. You can read the comic here if you’re interested. It’s largely all true, aside from the love story part. Tsk.

I don’t think I’m going to be drawing out this experience. It was completely different. I’ve been expecting a surgery of this nature since I was nineteen, when I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. So, in a way, this stint in the hospital was harder, more personal. The pacemaker was an emergency. The colon resection was some time coming. Not as much trauma, really. Not as much confusion about what was happening and why. But I still feel like telling the story, purging it from my mind.

I was scheduled for surgery on Monday, the 18th of November. I took off work that Friday so I could have my pre-op bloodwork done and I also took off Sunday so I could start the colon prep. If you don’t know what a colon prep is, God bless you. You basically drink a crap ton (lol) of laxative and spend all night pooping until you poop clear. The easiest version is the Miralax version. If you have to have a colonoscopy, ask for the Miralax. I promise, you don’t want the Go-Lightly.

The day before prep, my friend took me climbing in Memphis to keep my mind off of things. We also went to IKEA. It was helpfully distracting. I had Swedish meatballs.

I was meant to “technically” start the prep at midnight Saturday by not eating anything until surgery on Monday. Beginning to drink the Miralax sometime around noon on Sunday. I didn’t get that far.

I got righteously sick Saturday night. My back was killing me and I was very nauseous and dizzy. I knew what was going on even before I started throwing up. I had a bowel obstruction. The second one in my life. I’d had one once before in March and jeeze. It hurt like a son of a bitch. I’m not sure if every bowel obstruction feels the same way, but mine certainly did. If you find yourself having these symptoms, please go to the ER. Bowel obstructions are no joke. You can go septic, which is incredibly dangerous.

Nausea, feeling like you’re going to pass out, vomiting bile, severely upset stomach, cold sweats, and my back was aching something awful. I assume it was because my stomach was cramping so badly, my back muscles were spasming.

I live with my mother. Have done since I’ve been getting sick so regularly. I woke her up and she took me to the hospital.

The first time I had a bowel obstruction, I thought something was wrong with my heart. (The cold sweats, the nausea.) They rushed me to the back immediately. This time, I knew it was an obstruction, not my heart, and I said as much. They don’t tend to be in as much of a hurry when you don’t mention your heart. Didn’t realize that. I’m also not entirely sure they were convinced I did have a bowel obstruction. I’m sure plenty of people walk into an ER saying random stuff for random reasons, but yeah. I was very slowly processed. I remember them taking my blood pressure and because it wasn’t high at all, I imagine they thought I was full of shit. Figuratively, not literally. Because I was, literally. Whatever.

My blood pressure normally runs very low. I can also take a lot of pain, because I’m on a first name basis with pain. They didn’t take my pain seriously because my blood pressure wasn’t high, I guess. Not my fault I’m a badass.

I sat in the waiting room until I started vomiting bile again. I also pooped all over myself in the processes. Which I didn’t think you could do if you were obstructed, but you live and you learn!

That’s when they got in a hurry. I was making a huge mess.

They got me a paper gown and I cleaned myself up as best as I could before the CAT scan, which proved I was, in fact, obstructed.

So there I was, in the ER, very very early on the Sunday morning before my surgery Monday. I was admitted and my doctor contacted. Since the surgery was so close at hand, they agreed it was best to wait until the scheduled time to do the surgery. I’d stopped vomiting so there was no need for an NG tube this time. Those things suck.

Got admitted. Got a room. Tried to sleep. My surgeon came in and we talked. Got everything situated. At one point my mother told me there was a girl down the hall who’d just had a colon resection if I wanted to talk to her. She was sitting int he hallway with her sisters, eating her dinner. Poor thing had been in the hospital for almost a month.

I spoke with her a bit. I’m not entirely sure what happened. Whether it was nerves or if I was hurting, but I almost passed out in the hallway. I hadn’t experienced anything of that nature since I had my pacemaker put in. The whole point of the pacemaker was to prevent me from passing out altogether. But I didn’t pass out so...I suppose that means it’s working?

I also pooped on myself that night while I slept. First time that’d ever happened. It was then I knew that I’d literally gone as long as I could before I needed surgery. I couldn’t wait any more. I’d been so stressed out over in the idea that I maybe didn’t need the surgery. That I was being pitiful and my case wasn’t that bad. I could tough it out if I really wanted. I realized what a dumbass I was for thinking those thoughts, but hindsight is 20/20.

Monday dawned and surgery rolled around. Took forever. I was basically watching the clock tick the minutes by until transport fetched me. I was wheeled down to pre-op where they gave me a hair net. I don’t remember getting a hair net for the pacemaker surgery.

I signed some paperwork and a lady told me she was going to get me ready. She said she was going to give me a nerve block in my stomach. I was like, “Cool, right on.” Until I saw the needle.

Holy fuck. That needle.

“You’re going to give me that when I’m asleep, right?”

“I’m going to give you some ‘I don’t care’ juice.”

“Oh, thank God. I probably won’t remember this then.”

“Probably not.”

In went the ‘I don’t care’ juice. I got really dizzy.

They swabbed my belly with iodine.

They prepped the needle.

I was still very much awake.

I said, “Guys...” Because at this point there were several people standing over me. Like five. “...I’m still cognizant.”

Yeah, I used the word cognizant. That’s how fucking cognizant I was.

Not sure if they heard me. Or if they replied. I was really dizzy.

In went the needle.

And ow. OW.

In went the needle again. One stick on each side of my belly.

The ‘I don’t care’ juice must have been working in some way because while I remember the pain, I don’t remember the panic. I certainly would have panicked if I didn’t have that juice pumping through me. So that was a thing.

I fell asleep soon thereafter. Couldn’t have been like...a minute earlier? Really?

I remember waking up in recovery with the pacemaker. I remember the pressure, the nurse asking me questions. I remember being wheeled back to my room. I don’t remember jack shit about recovery after the colon resection. I don’t remember being wheeled back to my room. I apparently asked for my mom, but I don’t remember doing that either.

I do remember, however, turning over on my side. Because ouch. But I did it anyway and kept doing it because I’m a determined asshole. Monday night was very hazy. I was high as fuck, probably.

Tuesday: Not a good day. I was in a lot of pain. They gave me hydros, but the hydros weren’t touching it. Felt like I was taking Tylenol. And I have a very very VERY low tolerance for pain meds. They wouldn’t give me any morphine because my blood pressure was too low. (Again, badass?? Maybe?? IDK man my blood pressure just runs really low.) Which makes sense, because that’s dangerous, but I was in agony. I begged for morphine. I pleaded with the nurse to give me morphine. She would not.

My mother got angry. I’m not one to complain. And my threshold for pain is admittedly pretty stout. I was hurting and no one was doing anything to help. My mother got ANGRY.

I think they must’ve finally given me some morphine, but I don’t remember. Morphine also didn’t help. Didn’t even make a dent in the pain I was feeling. They kept giving me hydros every couple of hours to no avail. I remember I asked for a heating pad for my back. Barely. The nurse did give me one, but said I could only have it for an hour? Very fuzzy.

The tech forgot to...do something with my catheter because my urine got everywhere. The nurse that found me like that called the floor manager. I hated to, but I did report that my pain wasn’t kept in check. I was hurting so badly I actually reported one of the nurses. The one that wouldn’t give me morphine. I felt horrible about it, but I was also nearly in tears I hurt so bad.

Hell, the pain was so intense at one point my mother called my family. Like, they thought something was wrong. Very very wrong. The doctor called for some kind of scan while I was in bed. They put a board behind my back. I was writhing, I remember. My family gathered in the hospital to see me in case I had to go back to surgery. In case I wasn’t going to do well.

It was scary.

The next set of nurses figured out the problem when the scan revealed nothing out of the ordinary. My back was spasming. Horribly. When I sat up and they felt of me, they were shocked to find my back riddled with knots. It felt like knuckles underneath my skin. The new nurses got me some hella icy hot with pain killer and rubbed me down.

It helped tremendously. My back stopped freaking out, which gave my abdominal muscles time to rest.

At last, I wasn’t hurting. At last, I slept.

Wednesday and Thursday were spent trying to keep my back under control. At one point I vomited all over my bed due to acid reflux. I paged the nurse to ask for some acid reflux medicine and puked all over the place while I was on the call with her lol.

I never once had any issue with my incision. My entire trouble, the whole time, was from my back. And nausea. And lemme tell ya. Vomiting with a six inch incision on your abdomen? OW.

Getting up and walking? Easy enough. Getting up and going to the bathroom? No problem. Spongebath? Piece of cake. But God my back.

I managed to poop for the doctors. Fantastic.

And finally, finally, I got to have food.

I went from about 5:00PM Saturday to 12:00PM Friday without having anything to eat or drink. I had an IV, and I could eat ice chips if I desperately needed to wet my mouth, but yeah. I hardly had any ice chips. Weird to imagine you can go that long without food and be alright.

I proved I could eat GI soft food on Saturday and they let me go home.

Got my staples removed the following Tuesday. Had some steri strips applied. Just waiting for them to fall off on their own.

And here I am. Just lounging, waiting to get my strength back. It’s much easier to draw after this surgery than the pacemaker one. Thank God. I’m slow moving and my stomach hurts a bit when my contents shift, but other than that I’m doing swimmingly. I can’t lift anything over ten pounds until the new year. Not sure when I’ll be able to drive, either. I’ll find out soon.

This surgery was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Mentally and physically. Mentally because I’ve been struggling with Crohn’s since I was a teenager. I’m 32 now. Half my life I’ve been at war with my own body, drowning in the pain it leashes on itself. It’s been a long road. I hope this spells the end of it. Or at least, the rest of the journey is all downhill.

I’ve lost a lot of weight. I’m trying not to think about it too much. I’ll gain it back. Just takes time.

#personal #medical #tw pain #tw medical #recovery #crohn's disease #colon resection

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szopenhauer · 4 years

Text

Do you have pockets in anything you are wearing currently? I don’t

Have you ever tasted your own tears? it’s hard not to when you cry so often

Do you hang your clothes outside or put it in the dryer? outside, not during wither tho

Do you like the letter q or the letter z better? Z

Do you do anything weird in your sleep? who knows

How many times can you jump in jumproping? I didn’t jump for a long time now so I dunno if I can jump as many times as I used to - doubt it

Do you like the beach? I like wet sand, beachcombing

Have you ever built a sandcastle? I suppose, I want to do that again sometime

Is there a mirror in the room that you are in? not a hanging one

What color is your comb? one is white and other two are red

When did you pull out your first tooth? I don’t remember

How old were you when you said your first word? same

Have you ever had a pet rabbit? hell no

Do you like the autumn? it’s fine unless weather gets really cold and snowy

Are you good at drawing? a bit

What is your Hogwarts house? Ravenclaw?

Have you ever seen the Percy Jackson movie/s? nope

Ever seen Glee? fragments

Do you like Demi Lovato? Name a song by her. not a fan

Tarzan or The Lion King? Tarzan, from Lion King I only liked Timon and Pumba and I didn’t cry when Mufasa died

Lilo & Stitch or Moana? Lilo and Stitch

Hercules or Pinocchio? Hercules

Rugrats or Powerpuff Girls? Powerpuff girls

Ever seen Pretty Little Liars? no

Baking or dancing? dancing

Sports or shopping? shopping

Blue or yellow? yellow

Green or pink? green

Did/do you go to a public school, a private school, or homeschool? public

Do you have a secret sideblog? not anymore

If you could teleport anywhere in the world right now, where would you go? if I could teleport once I would save that ability for special occassion like emergency but if I was able to teleport whenever then hmm...

Do you have/would you get your nipples pierced? nah

How would you spend a million dollars? buy an apartment, help my parents, live better *maybe even make a movie?

What’s your pet peeve? I have so many

Do you like paper books or ebooks better? paper

If you could live in a fictional world, what world would you pick? Moomin valley

If money was no object, what would your wardrobe be like? big hahaha

If you could marry any celebrity, who would you pick? well I don’t know them personally so it’s hard to say - just choosing based on their look? hmm...

Who do you text the most? my gf

If you had to choose, which sibling would you live with? I only have a sister so... I would prefer not to live with her again, thx

When was your last date? last week

Are there any people at your job who absolutely hates you? if I had a job...

Do you prefer cool, warm or neutral colors? depends

Have you ever taken art classes? I have

Do you know how to work a cash register? I hope I didn’t forget much about it

Fact or fiction novels? fiction

Do you think you’re a clingy person? am I?

Do you enjoy kisses on the cheek? not really

How often would you say you disagree with your parents? often with my mom, rarely with my dad

Have you ever slept with your window open? nah

What color are your mother’s eyes? brown

Do you cry easily? very

Have you ever been into a court room? field trip in middle school

How many necklaces would you say you own? too many as for someone who never wear them.

What time do you plan on waking up tomorrow morning? wish I didn’t have to

Do you enjoy receiving souvenirs? buying them myself

Do a lot of people dislike you or is it the other way around? it’s both ways

What’s the worst part about school? bullying, grade stress, unhealthy eating, sitting all day long, walking there in the cold and snow during winter etc.

Would you ever consider going on a cruise? nah

Do you still act childish most of the time? often

Did you ever enjoy gym class? at times I enjoyed PE

What is your biggest insecurity? dunno which is biggest, I have plenty of them

Have you ever painted a room alone? not alone but helping

Speaking of which, when did you last paint your room? ages ago

Do you know how to garden? but don’t like to

Do you have any bad habits? shitload

How old were your parents when they had you? in their 30s

What is the most amusing thing on the internet, in your opinion? memes?

Do you try to spend a lot of time with family? compared to some people I spend lots of time with my parents

Do you need to clean your bedroom? yeah

What do you plan on doing with the rest of your life? we’ll see

Which decade were you born in? 90s

Are you good at giving advice to people? but not myself

Is there anyone out there who makes you feel completely useless? I am useless

Do you like texting or calling people more? text

Do you have a lot of friends? I don’t really have friends

Have you ever thought of someone as useless? myself for example

Can you count to ten in another language other than your own? english, polish, russian

Does photography interest you at all? kinda

Do you think you’re a good singer? am not

Do you think you have a good sense of style? I have my own style

Do you enjoy reading often? not often

Are you afraid of lifts? I prefer to take the stairs

How exactly are you feeling right now? Why do you feel the way you do? emotionally/mentally bad because of family and health issues mostly, physically my usual so not the best but can’t complain much

Has the last person you held hands with, ever told you that they love you? yes

Which do you think is the worst - saying something and then wishing you hadn’t, or not saying something and wishing you had? saying smth and wishing I hadn’t is worse to me

When was the last time you saw your grandparents? I saw my grandma almost 3 years ago

Have you ever felt really attracted to someone, but been deterred because you found out they didn’t have a very nice personality? omg more than once

Have you ever hugged/kissed someone you’d only just met? hugged, not kissed

Would you ever apologize for something that wasn’t your fault? I do that sometimes

Has anyone ever cried in your arms before? sure

Do you keep a lot of things from your parents? basically nothing

Using one word only, describe the day you’ve had so far. Sunday

Have you been annoyed at someone/something today? I still am Are you avoiding anybody at the moment? you could say that Is rap your favorite genre of music? it’s not Have you ever lasted a relationship longer then two months? yep Is it safe to walk around your neighborhood at night? not for me Are you a fan of heights? nah but I’m not super scared of heights Rate your typing speed on a scale from 1 - 10? almost 10

Do you text more then you talk on the phone? obvi Are you scared to grow old? to get more ill

Do you use a dishwasher or wash dishes by hand? by hand, I hate dishwashers

What is the best pharmacy near you? they’re not that good

Do you use public transportation? yup

How much does it cost for you to laundry (if you use a slot machine)? we have a washer at home

Do you make your bed every day? I’m lazy and it’s unhealthy to so I don’t

Do you save receipts? depends

Do you use re-usable bags at the grocery store? yep

Have you ever burnt yourself with the glue gun? slightly

Wall calendar or desk calendar? pocket :P

Does your home have a basement? it does

How often do you clean? clean what?

How often do you go grocery shopping? often

Ever bought a lottery ticket? few times

Do you gamble? online for free at times

Do you ever sleep on the floor? sleepover

Which room do you stay in the most? mine

Ever worked two jobs or more at once? noooo

Do you live in an apartment, condo, house, or dorm? house

How often do you go see a doctor? too often

Do you have acid reflux? chronic

Do you snore? no

Are you on birth control? I’m asexual and into women

Do you put on make-up in the bathroom or the bedroom? I did it wherever

What is the first site you go to when you turn on your computer? fb

Which email service do you use? wp

How often do you check your email? usually rarely

How old were you when you got your first phone? I was in middle school

Did you own a Britney Spears album? I don’t listen to Britney Spears

What sites are you on? plenty

Does the door to your room have a lock? I wish, it has a funny stuffed/plushie one What type of skin do you have? mixed Ever gotten beer poured all over yourself? luckily not, gross *from what I remember someone poured wine or beer on my shoes once in the store by breaking the bottle and didn’t pay for anything Who’s the last person you had a sleepover with? John Who’s the last person you wanted to kiss? my gf Can you keep a secret? not really When’s the last time you went on a walk? this evening

Do you feel uncomfortable when people you hardly know confide in you? if they use me

Have you ever regretted what you said in drunken conversation once sober? never been in such situation

Is there anything coming up which you’re dreading? it’s complicated

Do you ever do tedious tasks just to keep your mind occupied? I have my usual things/distractions that I do everyday

Have you ever lived with somebody with truly repulsive habits? could say so?

Do you tend to say things because they’re appropriate not because you mean them? sometimes

What was the last thing to fascinate you? smth I saw on the internet?

What was the last thing to annoy you? someone close to me

When did your hard work last pay off? basically never

When did you last feel a need to be alone? almost always?

When did you last REALLY want to go out but couldn’t for whatever reason? covid and my other health problems but also money

Have you ever eaten chocolate for breakfast? nooo

Do you like balloons? I do (don’t worry tho I can do without them)

When will you next go to the beach? *shrug*

If you have pet fish do you bother to name them? if I had fish I probably would name them

Did you ever read the Terry Pratchet “Disk World” books? I hate Pratchett

Do you keep your eggs in the fridge? of course

Have you ever owned chickens? I wanted to

Do you like classical music? at times, some songs

When did you last listen to music? this day

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pitiless-achilles-wept · 5 years

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I’m [Not] Fine: Distress Tolerance as a Double-Edged Sword

So, friends, it’s been a while. And if you’re wondering if I still have cancer...I do. I feel somewhat silly writing updates when, practically speaking, there’s nothing much for me to update you on. I also feel worried that I may “bore” you by continuing to have--and continuing to talk about--this same disease over and over. Cancer is just a fact of my life now, both terrifying and quotidian (and terrifying because quotidian). And, I guess, my cancer is also a fact of yours. And so I worry that you’ll lose interest or become habituated to it or maybe even just forget that it’s a Big Deal--to me, to you, to the world--and that I exist every day in quite a scary position. Or that--particularly since I’ve been keeping up do assiduously with my normal life (about which more in a moment)--you’ll wonder why I’ve chosen to confront you with my illness yet again. At a certain point doesn’t continuing to talk about it become...rude?

I’ve now had five weeks of in treatment during only four of which I’ve received chemo. (You get “off” weeks so that there’s some built-in recovery time so that, for example, I’ll get chemo again on Thursday and then I’ll get a week off next week.) Five weeks and, to my great surprise, I’m still not looking or behaving much like a cancer patient.

Or am I?! What IS a cancer patient supposed to look or behave like anyway?!

[Reflections on this question below the cut]

This question relates to the post I wrote earlier about the invisible illness and how I have (still) the privilege of not looking like I have stage 4 cancer - a disease that is extensive and serious and which is maybe still growing even as I type this. I wrote before about how the invisibility of my illness so far is a largely positive thing that allows me to “pass” as a regular person. I’m experiencing a bit more of the other side of that now, though, which is that as my treatment progresses with relatively mild symptoms and without hallmarks of illness (I STILL have so much hair that I actually had to get it CUT last week!) the severity of my disease becomes, I think, less real to the people around me. It’s still quite real to me. Not only do I literally never forget about it, but it’s my physical body that’s experiencing symptoms, which are accurately characterized as “mild” but which are absolutely, definitely unpleasant. For the record, I have more or less constant acid reflux, which I manage with over-the-counter medicine; low-grade nausea that I have drugs for; occasional diarrhea that also just takes over-the-counter stuff; neuropathy--nerve death--manifesting as pins-and-needles in my fingers and toes; joint/muscle pain in my shoulder withs some spasms; and bleeding and bruising easily which has led to some bloody noses when it’s dry. (Far worse, I will add, are the psychological effects of wondering constantly whether chemo is working; if it is working how well; if it isn’t working how much the cancer has spread; whether I will recover at all and, if so, for how long; and all the myriad other questions that can send me deep into an anxiety spiral.)

So I guess that’s...not nothing. And yet I barely ever mention it. In part, it’s because I’m aware how of how incredibly lucky I am to have such relatively minor symptoms. I know it’s worse for most people, that chemo renders many people miserably sick and basically non-functional. I also don’t bring them up because I hate mentioning things to people when they can’t do anything about them, projecting, I suppose, my own dislike of feeling powerless to help those I care about. (I show love by trying to problem-solve, which is neither the best nor the worst approach.) Add to these reasons the fact that I’m very afraid of being perceived as “whining” or “complaining” (even when there is a very valid thing to complain about) AND of being perceived as “weak” if I can’t hack something this relatively mild and you can see why I choose simply not to discuss it.

But I think my decision not to talk very much about my symptoms has to do also with an ability I have that has betrayed me before and kept me from getting the support--emotional or practical--that I have needed in the past. That ability is my skill with distress tolerance. “Distress tolerance” is a term from DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) although I find it more broadly useful as a concept. Essentially, it is what it sounds like: the ability to withstand emotional or physical discomfort. It’s a quality that I have cultivated relentlessly over the years, both because I needed it to cope with the situations in which I found myself and because it was highly valued by others. It is a positive thing, in one way, since it affords the ability to make it through incredibly difficult situations intact. It can be a negative one too, though, particularly since “distress tolerance” can look to the untrained observer a lot like being unaffected, unruffled, “fine.” It functions far too effectively as camouflage.

One of my best friends, who was my housemate during my Oxford Master’s, said back then that you could always tell when certain people were on the edge of collapse because, when asked how they were, they would just say “I’m fine.” These weren’t just any people, though. They were people like us. Some people probably mean it quite sincerely when they say that they’re fine--they may even want you to stop asking if they say so! Those people would probably also tell you if something were wrong, might NOT think of themselves as being weak or disappointing in some way because of the simple fact of needing something from another person. I’m not one of those people, though, and neither was she. We’re the kind of people, instead, who will smile while bleeding internally, laugh through the pain, keep up a good appearance no matter what. We’ll also trick you and distract you like professional conmen, weaving together strands of questions and compliments about your life, until you’re unaccountably talking at great length about it. You may have asked about us, but after we say the magic word (“fine”) you’ll find that we are talking about you and only you.

Very few people spot this trick, which is understandable since people, in general, love talking about themselves. This makes it also a very clever emotional trap for friends, family, and partners; if you don’t see through me, if you let me go through my song and dance, I feel like you don’t really see me at all and I can therefore push you away. The rare people who do see through this fiendishly clever trick are usually the ones who know how to do it themselves. They’re kindred spirits with whom the process short-circuits, forcing me to have a real conversation about how I am past “fine.” I’m lucky that I now have a lot of these people in my life, partly because when I find them I cling on for always, partly because I’ve worked hard on breaking this pattern to be able to have more of these real conversations. After all, is there anything more valuable than finding another person who you feel truly sees you?

So when I am tolerating my distress--whether it’s physical or emotional--I can at least be sure that there are some people in my life who will see me, and see through me. But they’re mostly not living where I live, which adds another layer of complexity. How will they see through me when they’re relying entirely on my own reports? The answer, of course, is that I have had to get better at being honest: at honestly assessing how I am and honestly telling people if it’s not “fine.” And it’s absolutely one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. But it will, I think, mean that I emerge from this horrible experience with even better friendships and, perhaps, better coping mechanisms. Distress tolerance is all well and good, to an extent, but it shouldn’t be the main principle along which I organize my life.

So that’s how I am, really. Both fine and not fine. Living my everyday life as well as I can, ignoring the symptoms I can’t eradicate, taking things a step at a time and hoping for all the best. But also consumed with grief and rage and fear, all of which sit untapped but just below the surface, easier to access even than the veins into which my port is plumbed. My reluctance to tap those feelings is because, more than acid reflux or shoulder spasms, they would make my life unlivable if I experienced them all the time. But perhaps it’s enough to share that they are there, even if you can’t see them, and that they are part of what makes me different from how I used to be--even if I still look the same.

(Pictured: new haircut)

#my life as a cancer patient #bex writes #distress tolerance #therapy #reflections #friendship #health update #visibility and illness #invisible illness #my face #how do I selfie?

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ginger-and-mint · 5 years

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this is gonna be super long i’m sorry -_- anon with the sick boyf from the other day here! i swear to god sometimes it feels like he’s playing into my fiedishness because so many literal fic tropes happened tonight. he felt better so he went to class and before i picked him up he was complaining about being starving so i got him a wendy’s burger which he ate. halfway through he was like “i keep getting to that almost almost nausea point, yknow?” to which i responded by getting him tums. he

finished the burger a bit hesitantly and went back to my room to lay down a few times. the last time he went to lay down he looked really peaky so i went to lay with him and cuddle a bit, but his stomach was audibly gurgly and he was morning a bit. at one point he was like “i’m probably just dehydrated! that’s probably all this is” so i got him some water and he drank about half of it before saying “oof, my stomach’s really angry” and laying back down. at one point he said “a greasy burger probably wasn’t the best choice after not eating something for a super long time. at least i didn’t have a frosty on top of it” and like come on no one talks like that in real life??? unless they KNOW i’m a fuckin fiend??? he stood up and starting pacing and saying “i’m really restless. i know burping would help, but i can’t make it happen” so i suggested pressing on his stomach, which he did, and then i said “or maybe laying on it” and he was like “yeah that’d be more comfortable—“ then kinda stopped halfway to the bed and hovered at the bathroom door and said “it’s probably just a burp but just in case—“ and then kinda rushed into the bathroom over the toilet and did in fact burp but then got sick and literally in between heaves was like “well i was literally pressing on my stomach this is fair—“ but then after he threw up he was literally fine other than sporadic burping which is why we still think this is prob acid reflux but COME ON !! this never happened irl up until like 2 weeks ago! im sorry this was so graphic but i’m literally just in awe (and also very relieved that /he/ is relieved and feeling so much better now) like omg

Oh my goodness, what a tale this is! This sounds like it was a heck of a day for both of you!

I’m really glad to hear that he’s feeling better now! A greasy burger probably wasn’t the best choice for an iffy tummy – maybe he should take it easy and stick to easy-to-digest foods for a couple days. c’:

#tummy trouble asks

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guessimaclotpole · 6 years

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The Jealous King. Yet another Merthur tale.

So I’ve done this so quickly and I haven’t proof read it because I wanted to upload it before I leave for the cinema. Chances are it’s full of spelling and grammar errors and it could be more descriptive but hey ho, I’ve done it now. Prompt: How about jealous Arthur when he finds out there are loads of other knights and servants who have crushes on Merlin (who sometimes flirts back) and he loses his shit when one starts to court him and is just like “no” and kisses him up against the wall and afterwards Merlin is just like “it’s about fuckin time” mm yeah that’s some good shit right there by @patroclusdefencesquad @chicken-wrapped-in-larry-hell The Jealous King - by Me! Arthur found himself counting down the minutes until this meeting was adjourned. For a king, he had an extraordinarily little amount of input, for which he was very grateful. Gwen’s and Leon’s voices were just background noise as his mind drifted to his servant. Where was Merlin? He had delivered breakfast extra promptly this morning and he even called Arthur sire with absolutely no tone of satire. Come to think of it, his servant had been in the best mood he’d ever seen him in. “Sire?” Arthur turned to find the council silently gazing at him. The corner of Leon’s mouth twitched slightly and a guilty cough escaped from his throat. Arthur couldn’t let the council take this as a moment of weakness. “Sorry everyone, my sleep was interrupted last night. I apologise for being rather vacant this morning. Leon will kindly see to the rest of my duties for the day.” Leon’s smile had disappeared.

As Arthur was about to exit the hall, his mind still on Merlin’s whereabouts, he heard Leon grunting from the corner. “You know Sire, just because you’re King now, that doesn’t mean you can’t have a sense of humour.” Arthur grinned. “Actually Leon, I do have a sense of humour. Unfortunately, I just don’t think you’re very funny.” Leon’s smile mimicked Arthur’s, and his eyes flickered with mischievousness. “Is this about Merlin sire?” Arthur could tell by Leon’s sheer delight that his own face had betrayed him. He quickly worked to compose himself and found himself speaking with so little emotion that he didn’t even sound like himself. “And why would Merlin have anything to do with any of this?” There was a brief silence and Leon’s expression grew more elated with every second. His eyes gleamed in a ‘I know something you don’t’ kind of way. Arthur really tried not to care but he could feel his words coming from the pits of his stomach, travelling up his body like acid reflux. They came out harsher than intended. “Just tell me what he’s doing, Leon, or he’ll be straight in the dungeon and it’ll be on your conscience!”. Obviously, Arthur’s aggression had made the situation all the more humorous. “With all due respect, sire, you can’t possibly lock Merlin away for what he is doing. He’s breaking no rules after all”. With this, Leon chuckled light-heartedly but Arthur felt unstable. There was something about this entire situation that just wasn’t right. Merlin having everything ready for Arthur before he woke, his over-ecstatic interactions with Gwen, the little spring in his step as he moved around the royal chambers, his proud and knowing grin when he merrily said “Everything is done, Sire. I have your plans here for the full day and you will find everything you need in here in the next ten minutes.”. Arthur hadn’t paid any heed to Merlin’s frantic run when Arthur told him “That will be all, then”, but now it seemed too suspicious. Why would Merlin be in such a hurry – and why would he be so happy? Arthur surely gave him no reason to be happy of late. He had more than doubled Merlin’s workload since becoming king. Of course, Merlin never complained – but then Merlin never did, not with meaning. “If it’s bothering you so much that you can’t even engage in conversation, Sire, then you’ll be pleased to know that Merlin has a little romantic date-” “When?” The word didn’t even process in his mind before it bluntly made it’s way out. Leon seemed rather taken back by Arthur’s lack of positive reaction. What had he been expecting? His servant can’t try and get the day off for some silly romantic date. Especially not with the amount of time he spends in the tavern. Before Leon even had a chance to answer, Arthur’s face contorted with something beyond rage. “Who?” “Arthur, you can’t possible be angry at-” “I suggest you answer me Leon, and that you address me by my proper title-” “Arthur! You’re being unreasonable. I don’t want you to be surprised is all”. Surprised? What did he mean surprised? “It’s Gwaine, sire. He’s gone for a picnic with…” Arthur wasn’t sure whether Leon had even finished the sentence. Merlin and Gwaine? Of course Merlin would be attracted to a man. That much had always been obvious but Gwaine??? What on earth was attractive about Gwaine? He was sleazy, rude and spent most of his time off duty drunk. But of course, no doubt they’ve been spending a lot of time together in the tavern. “Sire, it’s common knowledge that at least 6 of the knights have a bit of a thing for Merlin, it was just a matter of who got there first. I mean I obviously don’t have the confidence that Gwaine-” “You? What do you mean you? Don’t tell me that you like him, Leon. He is a servant!” Arthur had been an idiot. How did he not notice the way the knights all watched him, the way they fought amongst themselves to help Merlin onto his horse, the way they bickered about who would find Merlin when Arthur was looking for him? How had Arthur not seen this? Did he really not notice - or had it been sheer ignorance on his part? He never looked back at Leon as he left the council chambers. He wasn’t even sure where he was going, yet he found himself atop his horse and leaving for the woods. He recalled taking Gwen here for a picnic and making Merlin tag along. Well, Merlin would either be there or at the tavern. He slowed, however, as he neared his destination. What exactly did he plan on doing? Surely he couldn’t just storm into their romantic dinner and tell Merlin- What did he even want to tell Merlin? He pushed down the tingling feeling in his stomach and thought better of his decision. He slowly headed back to the castle. On his way back to the doors, he heard two horses galloping behind him. Sure enough, Merlin and Gwaine had been to dinner. Gwaine, however, looked rather unsteady and giddy, leaving Arthur to believe that he’d had one too many drinks. Arthur leaned against the wall and watched as the pair slowed to a halt. A few of the knights, including Leon, watched as Gwaine rushed from his horse to help lift Merlin from his. One of the knights wolf-whistled towards them and Arthur was unsure what was happening. Was it because they wanted to make a show? Or was it because Gwaine was quite clearly drunk? Either way, Arthur must have stood upright and made an audible noise, because as Gwaine’s hand gently caressed Merlin’s jaw, everyone seemed to look in his direction. He stood dumbfounded and un-moving and it all happened in slow motion. The caress of the jaw, Merlin’s little smile – and then it happened. Gwaine leaned forward and pushed his mouth to Merlin’s. It was sloppily done, but it wasn’t until Merlin opened his own mouth and pushed his tongue into Gwaine’s, that Arthur found himself sprinting back into the castle.He stopped when he saw Gwen, and he found himself frantically spewing random words. “I, Merlin and the knights, and Gwaine… I didn’t- How did… Gwen..” He was defeated. “I can’t do this” Gwen knew. She must have done. Arthur had never done more than kiss her, and Arthur often heard her speak of Lancelot, his loss was still eating at her. She was a good wife, and he loved her. But not the same way he loved Merlin. “Arthur, you need to speak to him. How is he supposed to have known? You’re constantly telling him what to do and you’ve never said anything kind to him in my presence. All this time you’ve been rejecting him, you’ve been tearing yourself apart. You have had opportunities Arthur, and you have wasted them. You can’t blame him for finding someone else.” Her voice was stern, yet caring. Arthur still found himself unable to speak, unable to comprehend his own emotions. If Gwen had known how he felt, surely everyone else did? Is that why Leon found his lack of concentration this morning a laughing matter?Before he knew it, he was running again. … As he entered the entrance hall, Merlin and Gwaine stood hand in hand, deep in discussion with the knights and a few of the serving ladies. He stopped still in the doorway and Merlin’s eyes halted for a moment on Arthur’s. He looked happy, yes, but there was something else. When he smiled his eyes didn’t crease up at the sides, and he didn’t bare his teeth once. He looked unlike himself. Arthur approached him slowly, all the while holding Merlin’s gaze. He made his way through the knights and stopped directly in front of him. “So, I asked him to feed me the grapes, and as he did I was kissing his little fingertips. He pretended to drop one, the little devil, and as he moved forward that was it.” The serving ladies swooned as Gwaine finished the story of their first kiss and Arthur looked Merlin dead in the eyes. “Did you drop the grape on purpose, Merlin?” His face may have been threatening, but his voice betrayed him. It came out as a defeated whisper and Arthur caught Leon’s face darken as he spoke. “Sire, why don’t you-” “ARE YOU GOING TO ANSWER ME, MERLIN!?” Everyone jumped. Everyone except Merlin, seemingly. Merlin’s eyes searched his face for some sort of answer, some sort of explanation and Arthur could feel the veins in his neck throbbing. “Yes.” Merlin whispered, tears filling his eyes for a moment. Arthur took a step back, feeling betrayed. For the first time, his eyes left Merlin’s and he looked directly at Gwaine. He was still giggling with one of the serving girls, almost flirtatiously. Had he not just seen his own friend- no, his own boyfriend’s eyes fill with tears as the King shouted at him? Did he not care that his boyfriend was stood right beside him as he flirted with another woman? Arthur was disgusted. He couldn’t let this be. Merlin deserved better. His body moved before his brain knew what he was doing. He stormed forwards and briefly felt a hand tug on his arm, trying to hold him back, but he moved with so much certainty that nothing would stop him. His hands moved under the fabric and found Merlin’s hip bones. From here he slammed Merlin against the wall and his lips found their destination. Merlin’s cheeks were rough under his fingers – he mustn’t have shaved for a few days. He flicked his tongue at Merlin’s top lip, and as always, he followed his King’s instruction. He opened his mouth and Arthur didn’t hesitate. His tongue swirled with Merlin’s as his hands gripped tighter on his hips. He thought Merlin was about to tug at his hair, before pain pierced through his scalp. Gwaine had tossed him with surprising force away from Merlin. His face resembled that of a beaten, angry dog. Gwaine’s hand hovered for a moment above his sword then out of nowhere, some sort of force lifted Gwaine from the ground and he landed on the other side of the room. Leon and Percival rushed to his aid and quickly escorted him out of the room, and Arthur turned to Merlin quick enough to see his hand raised in front of him, a hint of yellow in his eyes. He had magic. He had magic and Arthur didn’t even care. Arthur moved back towards Merlin, but as he did so Merlin’s eyes flashed yellow again and Arthur was somehow up against the wall, Merlin’s hands underneath his tunic, grasping at the skin of his back. Merlin’s kiss was possessive, demanding and delicate all at once. His tongue exploring every corner of Arthur’s mouth. Arthur put his hands on Merlin’s hips and he must have understood the demand because he slammed his crotch against Arthur’s. They were both hard and they were both frenzied. Their kisses became heavy and their hands moved all over each other as they stepped sideways. A door flew open behind Arthur, and just before Merlin pushed him inside, his lips left Arthur’s. “It’s about fucking time”

#Merthur #Merlin #arthur pendragon #Merlin x arthur #emrys #bbc merlin #fanfic #jealousy #i had too much fun writing this today

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black-coffee-cutie-blog · 6 years

Text

how to handle upset stomach after a binge and when restricting or fasting.

[TW: eating disorders, laxatives, restricting, fasting, binging, emetophobia]

as someone with 3 digestive conditions, a relapse always manages to screw up my digestion and overall comfort. I'm sure that there are others who feel that sentiment strongly, so I'm gonna share some of what works for me.

general upper digestive system issues (heartburn, acid reflux, nausea, etc.): antacids are my go-to medicine. however, they come in a lot more forms than you might realize! if your symptoms are minor, regular tums will work just fine.

i also like to use alka-seltzer tablets mixed with water, mostly because the fizziness combined with the medicine really helps settle my stomach. (hint: if the taste of regular alka-seltzer is too gross for you to handle, put some lemon juice in there. lemon is a natural anti-nausea agent. even smelling a lemon takes my symptoms away sometimes.)

if you're terribly nauseous and don't want to vomit, the scent of rubbing alcohol helps, as does peppermint oil. if you're in public, it's nearly impossible to gag while humming or clenching your left thumb tightly in your fist.

if you have nausea associated with acid reflux, skip the ginger. ginger tends to make that a lot worse **when ingested**. However, smelling or topically applying ginger oil does help considerably.

for acid reflux, sleeping with your head elevated is a good idea. during the day, there are a bunch of OTC medicines that help. There are some purple capsules called Prilosec OTC, and the active ingredient is Omeprazole. They work like a charm and are usually inexpensive. I would always suggest capsules over tablets for acid reflux because tablets tend to make the back of your throat feel like it's on fire the second they hit the acid that's already there. 10/10 would not recommend. also, if you're gonna get non-gummy chewable antacids, please drink a bit of water before you take them. acid reflux can make your mouth feel dry and antacids combined with a dry mouth feels disgusting.

if it isn't reflux, ginger comes in many different forms. I find that anything that allows me to taste and smell the ginger as I ingest it helps a lot. ginger drops are good, but usually don't give long-lasting relief. ginger tea is better because it allows for you to sip with each wave of nausea and settles your stomach. ginger capsules are good if you're okay with waiting 30 minutes for them to kick in.

upper digestive issues after a binge: for me, the worst thing i felt when i habitually binged was the nausea. usually, the reflux got better when I binged and worse when I went back to restricting.

for nausea after a binge, Nauzene tablets are a lifesaver. they look DISGUSTING. they taste DISGUSTING. they work within 4 minutes. they're worth it.

emetrol is a liquid version of Nauzene, essentially, and it is NOT WORTH IT. it works within 15 minutes and wears off almost as fast. and it tastes like absolute horseshit. thats a hard pass for me.

i wouldn't suggest antacid tablets after a binge because you need to drink water with them, and drinking water after a binge makes you feel bloated, in my experience. gummy antacids, however, are a lifesaver. I would not recommend gummy antacids with a hard shell on the outside. they taste and feel chalky.

upper digestive issues during restriction or fasting: tea is a life-saver for heartburn and nausea while restricting and fasting. if calories concern you, drink with an ASPARTAME-FREE 0 calorie sweetener. I recommend Stevia. chamomile, peppermint, and lemon lavender are my personal upper GI go-to teas. just about any tea will work, though I would suggest avoiding citrus or cinnamon.

if it's night-time and your symptoms are severe, boy do i have a reccomendation for you: alka seltzer brand mixed-berry flavored gummy antacids with melatonin. these bitches will have you heartburn and nausea free within 10 minutes, and if they don't? that's okay, your ass will be KNOCKED OUT before you can even complain. these are especially helpful for getting through a fast, because sometimes, the best thing you can do for comfort is sleep it off. plus, they're sweet, and they have an added benefit of helping with low blood sugar and dizziness from fasting and restricting.

for lower body digestive system issues (bloating, diarrhea, constipation, pain) in general: when you're bloated, anything minty will usually help. peppermint or spearmint leaves (just chew them), a LOW DOSE (1 or 2 drops) of peppermint oil mixed into tea, etc.

for diarrhea, my best reccomendation would be to NOT TAKE AN ANTI-DIARRHEAL. unless you want to not shit for 4 days while feeling like you need to every few minutes, that's a nope from me, dog. nah, instead, I would suggest eating mild food. the BRAT diet is always my go to: Banana, Rice, Apples, Toast. A bonus is that those are all generally "safe" foods. they tend to be bland and easy to digest, which makes the loose stool stop sooner. also, make sure you're drinking enough water, because dehydration is the main reason why loose stools have killed people in the past. don't drink a ton of water at once, though. space it out throughout the day.

also, normal Pepto Bismol liquid is my favorite for bringing diarrhea to a stop without causing constipation. I would suggest keeping a big bottle of it in the fridge if you're prone to loose stools. I personally find Pepto Bismol tablets to be ineffective in handling symptoms as quickly as the liquid. the liquid coats your esophagus and stomach, which helps with upper GI symptoms too. DO NOT USE CHERRY FLAVORED PEPTO BISMOL unless it is literally your last option, because it tastes HORRID and you will never forget the taste. it will enter your nightmares and pervade your senses when least expected. you think I'm being dramatic, but I promise you, you would regret it.

for constipation, do not take a ton of laxatives. the last thing you need on top of all this mess is an accidental laxative addiction. laxatives don't do shit for weight loss, and they get your body dependent on outside help for digestion. don't even start it.

one stool softening pill is fine. if it doesn't work, don't try and jumpstart the process. instead, take the RECCOMENDED AMOUNT of a fiber powder, or eat some foods high in fiber (these tend to be low-calorie). a quick google search should bring up a list of high-fiber foods.

for abdominal pain, I recommend heat in some form. a hot bath, a heating pad, a hot water bottle. if you're out in public, there are these portable heat patches that you can buy in a four-pack. they're used more often for joint pain, but they help a lot if your stick 'em on your tummy too. if you are a person who gets periods, these help with cramps too, just as a side note. DO NOT USE HEAT PATCHES WITH CAPSAICIN IN THEM. THEY WILL BURN YOU. I don't just mean you'll feel a burning sensation, I mean that I left one of those on my stomach for maybe 10 minutes and sustained a first degree burn from it. nothing makes stomach pain worse like adding another layer of pain to contend with.

If you're restricting at any level, DON'T TAKE PAIN MEDICINE FOR ABDOMINAL PAIN OR ANY PAIN PLEASE I BEG OF YOU it'll make you so nauseous and it's honestly the quickest way to get an ulcer.

kaopectate is great for lower digestive issues but for the love of all things good keep it in the fridge and don't get the vanilla kind. the taste of warm vanilla kaopectate is beyond horrid. not as bad as cherry Pepto, but close.

Imodium pills are usually pretty helpful too. Kaopectate works better for me, but I'd try both to see which one is most helpful for you personally. In terms of overall effectiveness, they're equal, but Kaopectate works faster.

Final notes:

1. I am not encouraging anyone to develop an ED in these tips. I'm just trying to help people feel better. having an ED doesn't mean you don't deserve basic comfort and symptom relief.

2. if you have dogs or kids running around, do NOT let them get ahold of any minty essential oils. peppermint, eucalyptus, spearmint, etc. will all cause children and pets severe breathing problems. kids have died from smelling peppermint oil. don't use essential oil diffusers at all with kids in the general vicinity.

3. I am not a doctor. I'm a sick person with way too much time on my hands and a severe illness phobia. please don't take my word as law. if a certain medicine works better for you, cool! I'm just giving my personal experiences and trying to help y'all avoid the medicine mistakes I've made. also, if you're on prescription meds, ask your doctor before taking other OTC meds.

4. eating disorders suck. these symptoms that we have to deal with because of them suck. if you are in the initial stages of an ED and you're reading this, get help. if you're in the late stages, get help. it is never too early or too late to get help. no good therapist or doctor will ever tell you to come back when your symptoms are worse, and if they do, they need to have their license revoked. the mere presence of eating disordered ideation or intent is enough to merit treatment. if you think it's too late, it's never too late until you're dead. don't let it get that far, please. you can be happy. you can be healthy. you deserve to be happy and healthy and alive. you deserve to thrive. you deserve to be okay.

i love you all. if you ever need ANYTHING, I'm one message away. i hope y'all feel better soon. 💞

#ana #anamia #not pro just using tags #anorexia #anorexia nervosa #bulimiia #bulimia #anorexic #bulimic #ana tips #pro ana #starve #restricting #binge #binge eating #anti binge #binge ed #binge eating disorder

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