#really fucking dehydrated also which is helping me not be sick but i think is giving me more of a headache

[genderdog]

chat is it normal to feel completely desensitized to feeling constantly sick that when you’re actually sick you feel like it’s not enough to warrant it

[caspersickfanfics]

OKAY!!! I have been released to spew emotional sickie headcanons and tropes and more and I’m thrilled

now ofc not all of these may fit the current fic you’re working on but these are some of my favorites 🥰 AND these specifically I think apply to Cyno

You already captured it perfectly but- the insecurity!! Cyno just losing his confidence and all of the deep rooted fears come to the surface with him asking “are you mad at me” like when a sickie is just so sensitive that any criticism they’d normally brush off hits exactly where it hurts the most. Cyno fears failure in my mind, and Cyno probably HATES letting Nari down the most.

also- irrational sickies. Like sometimes when your fever is that high or you’re just that unwell it doesn’t matter anymore you’re just upset. For cyno i feel like he’d be crying a lot of frustration tears too?? Like at first he’s just upset cuz he thinks nari is mad and every insecurity he has ever had is so raw and loud right now and then he’s crying AND THEN he’s upset, because he got upset! And now he’s crying because he is embarrassed he started crying and he just can’t figure out why he’s crying so much and ‘I can’t ever do my job again cuz I just can’t calm down’ full on spiral. I love this especially when the caretaker takes a clinical calming approach, helps them focus on breathing, and explains “baby, you’re sick. You have a high fever, and sometimes fevers can make our emotions yada yada whatever” and then like, tries to get them to have some water or just holds them.

I also feel like Cyno would start out trying really hard to keep it together and it would result in him just pouting? Like after nari assured him he isn’t mad or however that plays out, nari can see he’s still upset. And he’s trying to not let it show, but the second Tighnari asks him if he’s okay, the tears instantly pool, and he can’t really explain why? 🥺

I will die on the Cynos love language is physical touch hill with pride. He probably didn’t realize it till later in life but he wants to be held. He wants to feel safe. He likes deep pressure and hands in his hair and he wants to be compressed (I may be projecting but whatever)

NIGHTMARES!!! I also am very much sold on the idea that feverish Cyno has wild fucking dreams. Some fueled by his past ofc, but ALSO I’m thinking about you AMAZING fic where Cyno wouldn’t sleep cuz of anxiety and general fears that he’s a monster and will one day hurt tighnari. I feel like, he’d wake up just in pure, sick, panic cuz he dreamt that Tighnari was sick or hurt or killed or whatever and he couldn’t help him, no matter what. So he wakes up confused and scared cuz maybe nari stepped out, or something. Idk I love the idea of his fever brain being more concerned for nari and forgetting that he’s the one sick.

now for some more physical tropes

when an already congested character cries so much they just get MORE congested. Also as someone who eyes have swelled shut after crying too much I am biased to that as well. Like you cry fall asleep and then wake up just blind 🤣 OH and post crying sinus headaches

there’s also throwing up from said panic- or from crying which we have already seen a bit with Cyno in your other work as well. So we know for a fact that fear and anxiety makes him sick to his stomach 👀

self soothing?? Like when asleep, to they rock themselves, or rub their hair between their fingers or try and get really small and tight. I’m not sure if this fits for Cyno but I feel like there’s potential possibly from years of having to deal with illness as a baby on his own.

glassy, watery eyes, whimpers, dehydration from too much crying. Body aches, from flu but also from exhaustion. All wonderful things imo

AND the caretaker- when sickie is emotional it’s so so good when they talk them through whatever it is they are doing next. Even if it’s just to ground them. Cyno is probably used to the silent treatment from his childhood. So after nari gets him to settle I imagine Tighnari just, calmly talking to him or explaining what he’s doing next, or why he’s feeling what he’s feeling or what plant he found etc would really help remind cyno that he’s not being abandoned and no nari isn’t mad at him. oh!!! And last thing- I think- when the emotional sickie, gets upset AGAIN but this time it’s because they are overwhelmed with affection and are just, so grateful for their loved ones that they don’t know what to do. they finally feel they are safe and loved and then they cry all over again lmao

That’s all…..for now 😈

HELP I am!!!! So on board with all of this oml this is incredible!!!!!!!!!

Fear of failure fits Cyno SO well and like! I think it's in a bit of an unconventional way? He's not sensitive to just anyone deeming him as having failed. He genuinely doesn't care what most people think (based on him resigning from his position in canon to do The Right Thing according to his own beliefs). It's only the people who's opinions he values and respects (...Tighnari. also Collei. I could see him getting really sappy over accidentally doing something to upset Collei when he's sick. Or perceiving that he's not been good enough to her etc etc). And I think with Tighnari it's like. He values his opinion so highly, the absolute last thing he wants is to disappoint him.

Irrational sickies, so cuteeeee. My brain connected this one to the nightmare one and like. I just had this thought of. Tighnari is used to Cyno having these really intense, traumatic nightmares. So when he's sick and has a bad dream, Tighnari is thinking in that direction. But then it comes out that Cyno's dream was actually reliving the moment from earlier that night, where he asked if Nari was mad at him, except in the dream he actually was??? And now he just. Won't be convinced otherwise.

Fully agree about the point on physical touch!! Characters who were either overly manhandled or received little to no affectionate physical touch as children (OR BOTH, which may well be the case for Cyno) growing into touch starved adults >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Honestly, I need to write more of Cyno pouting. Thank you for reminding me and motivating me with such a lovely image of him tearing up and not knowing why, I adore that!!

Ugh yes I always lean in the direction of throwing up from crying because that's how my brain is wired, but I love these sinus/eyes/muscle achey consequences too!!! Like. Baby omg </3

Uhm. The self-soothing point. Is one of my favorite things. I had never put a name to it but!!!!!!! I'm so glad you put it into words!!! I DO think this can fit for Cyno, although I imagine it comes up a lot less when Nari's around because he's always going to reach for him first (re: touch as Cyno's love language). If Nari steps out, maybe he comes back and Cyno's hugging himself because he couldn't hug Nari. It might come up more with another caretaker - Collei, Alhaitham. Maybe Kaveh but I like them being cuddly with each other, too. OH the thought of Tighnari coming to help out and finding Cyno self-soothing, all curled up really tight, and knowing he's resorted to that only because Nari wasn't there sooner and Cyno doesn't trust anyone else enough to get close when he's feeling really bad????? *cries*

And yess!!!!! Caregiver communication is so good, especially with the context you gave of a possible history of silent treatment. Yeah. Like. Cyno having been experimented on as a little one, not being told anything, and just silently enduring because getting upset would make things worse. Maybe when he's really feeling awful he tries to hold the emotion in because he doesn't want to get in trouble for it, but Nari picks up on it and is so gentle and reassuring and good at opening that door of two-way communication. Reminding Cyno that he's here to care for him, and also that Cyno's bodily autonomy is going to be respected </3 and then the comfort cryyyyy freaking. Ugh. He's hugging Tighnari and suddenly Nari's shoulder is wet and he's worried, starts to pull away but Cyno just squeezes him tighter and whispers "thank you." Nari gets it, then, and he just holds him and lets him cry it out.

(Also we must have some kind of psychic connection because the next scene I had written was Cyno waking up from a nightmare and getting upset because he doesn't feel right 😂 Idk if that fits the irrational sickie trope exactly but like!!! Close enough lol)

This is all. Ahhhhhh!!!!!!! Just so fantastic!!! Thank you so much!! For sharing all of this with me!!!!!!!!! Genuinely made my night <333 I see that "for now" and :DDD Please feel free to continue or share other headcanons/tropes/etc. whenever you wish!!!!

[aqueeracademic]

morse being queer (and other commentary) pt 10:

season 3, episode 2, “Arcadia”:

- this is the ULTIMATE morse x jakes episode so listen up!

- i am so dehydrated so this is your reminder to drink water asap

- the men not helping a woman DYING IN THE STREET because they’re too busy being RACIST is so fucked

- like wtf r u doing

- too much i’ll tell u that

- doing too goddam much

- joan is such a daddy’s girl i love her

- i really wish monica and morse worked out

- they’re both familiar with death and familiar with a commitment to a taxing job like they get each other

- in fairness i also wished he’d have worked out with jakes but we all know what happens this episode!

- “you’re very rude.” “no, i’m very busy.”

- werk morse ‼️

- the milk man was not nearly phased enough by that explosion

- TREWLOVE MY BELOVED

- jakes and morse’s hands touched when jakes gave him his beer 🥰🥰🥰

- [thursday] “morse has some reservations about this death by fire.” [jakes] “what’s new?” [morse] “…” [jakes] “no. go on! who was he?”

- husbands. literally husbands

- thursday making fun of jakes for not saying anything inappropriate to Trewlove and jakes laughing while looking at morse while morse blushes

- i’ll be sick!

- morse is so pretty!!!! pretty boy!

- house beautiful is a fuckin cult

- as an avid follower of Abbie Hoffman, i wanted to get defensive about thursday’s stance on free love but he’s right 🙄🙄 besides gideon is an abuser so whatever

- END ILLEGAL REGIME!!

- i don’t like morse being characterized as someone who doesn’t support protest even tho he’s a cop and therefore would definitely be anti protest 🫤

- jakes helping morse move in 🥰🥰

- i’m sick.

- morse thanking him and asking him out for a drink and being upset when he says no 😀 i’m so normal about them 😀

- joan is so cute i’m obsessed w her

- “do the honors”

- i love jakes because he knows he’s leaving so he’s just being overtly nice to morse to be as close to him as possible for his final days

- once again, i’m SICK over them

- jakes approaches morse really slowly because he’s nervous to tell him

- “i’ve been meaning to say…”

- which translates to: “i’ve been wanting to tell you i’m leaving, but i didn’t know how to tell you. you, specifically.”

- “you’re resigning? you kept that quiet.”

- morse is slightly offended that jakes wouldn’t tell him right away. they’re friends, aren’t they? but maybe they’re not. maybe he’s wrong

- “she’s a great girl.” “i’m sure she is.”

- trying to be supportive. smiling and nodding and saying “that’s great news!” despite knowing he’s going to lose jakes to it all

- then again, morse is the only one who knows, really knows, what jakes has been through

- he knows it’s best for jakes to get out while he can

- settle down with a beautiful girl somewhere really far away

- somewhere he’ll never see him again

- and it’s the way that morse’s smile drops as soon as jakes walks away. as soon as jakes invites him to his party and looks for a final time deep in his eyes and touches his shoulder

- his smile drops immediately and he lets him go

- but morse looks back for him. like orpheus he looks back, which only solidifies he’s lost him

- ANYWAYYYYYYYYY‼️‼️‼️

- this woman is so 🤮🤮🤮

- calling a younger man to your house under the guise of an intruder is wild to me

- maybe that’s just me

- the way morse is so CATTY during this scene

- he said when they go low

- i got LOW-ER ‼️🤞

- “i’m sure i’m not the first woman you’ve seen in her underclothes.”

- i’m UNCOMFORTABLE

- i can’t tell if she’s supposed to be older than him or not

- i feel like she is

- “do you not like women?”

- and then he says NOTHING??

- sir she thinks ur gay and ur just gonna take that????

- (he is gay)

- his JAWLINE IN THIS SCENE??? THE HEAVY SWALLOW?? LOOKING DOWN AT HER??

- i’m fucking sick

- so ill.

- he has no reason to have rizz like this

- their house is so ugly

- i hate modern architecture

- morse putting himself in harms way so he can ensure jakes will make it out alive and safe by the end of the week 😐

- “Sudden.” <- him talking about jakes leaving

- the way morse is just so clearly not okay with jakes leaving and doesn’t know how to express it

- strange and trewlove are so truly besties i’m obsessed

- morse and jakes going off together even though they swear they don’t along 🙄

- “second thoughts?”

- no need to sound excited morse

- he’s not staying 🫤🫤 no matter how much you want him to 🫤

- “mind how you go” + “watch yourself” = they care about each other so much

- he called him peter i’m gonna VOMIT

- “peter, you’ve got something to lose!”

- morse acting like his death wouldn’t affect the people around him

- he really thinks he isn’t important it makes me sick

- CALLING HIM PETER??????

- jakes telling a joke immediately so morse knows he’s ok

- i’m so sick

- do you guys think jakes ever called morse by his first name?

- i just wanna know 😀😀

- i swear jakes makes any excuse to just take his jacket off

- always walking around in just his shirt sleeves

- he knows he’s….. he is!

- “bad luck”

- thank u jakes

- always supporting his boyfriend

- morse being so obviously uncomfortable in a religious setting is… relatable

- “because i didn’t want to disappoint her. she’d had enough of that.”

- morse loved his mom so much i’m so not okay

- “‘still your mind’ she’d say. ‘still your mind.’ never had the knack.”

- IM HIM AND HES ME

- update he isn’t against protest work! as long as it follows the law 🙄🙄

- ^he donates to AmnOx

- this lady slapping him and him being completely unphased has me 😧

- like wtf was that

- i understand this lady is miserable but don’t smack people

- she’s so weird

- joan asking morse about jakes just to see how he’s handling it 🫤

- i’m so obsessed w trewlove you don’t get it

- them forcing her to get an abortion just because the father was black and a revolutionary is so 🤮

- can women ever just do what they want to do with their lives?

- this girl is so crazy

- stealing a child and then calling the person calling you out “mean”???

- babes you stole a BABY

- these girls are homosexuals i fear ‼️

- jakes going from a lost boy to a cowboy <3

- morse is so hurt in this episode i’ll never understand it

- he never shows up for jakes when he needs it

- can they just HUG like men

- jakes’ lady being called Hope is SOMETHKNG THAY CAN BE SO PERSONAL

- THE DIALOGUE:

- “It’s hope.” “Make a go of it.” “I mean to.”

- HE MEANS TO GET BETTER. HE MEANS TO HEAL AND HOLD ONTO HOPE OF A BETTER TOMORROW. HE GETS TO GET OUT

- HE GETS TO GET BETTER AND BE FREE

- i’m so sick

- i literally only care about him

- might as well stop watching now

- “you’ll miss him.” “he kept me on my toes. No, i’m glad!… if anyone deserved it.” and then WALKING INTO THE RAIN WHILE THURSDAY WATCHES SADLY??????

- he loved him. and he’ll miss him. and thursday knows it.

- and i’ll miss him too

[whumpster-fire]

My usual solution to this is "fuck it, every single character has a digestive system that can absorb literally 100% of ingested matter, and I am ignoring any canon evidence to the contrary" because it's a massive squick and borderline phobia for me IRL, but I can't think of a way around them having to pee. A metabolism that "burns" nitrogenous waste by oxidizing it to nitrogen gas + CO2 + water is technically possible I guess (interesting implications for the nitrogen cycle though), but other toxins and metabolic wastes still have to be gotten rid of.

But my brain goes the same place and it's annoying as hell. Usually I try to avoid having characters be restrained / without access to a bathroom for more than a few hours.

Gross Details Under the Cut:

Tansy (note: not human, is a small, furry animal) is trapped in a tiny cage with a wire floor for weeks or months on end in her storyline, with nobody bothering to clean it, and it ended up like one of those horrifying fur farm documentaries, with rusty bars covered in urine residue, vomit (from being fed rotten meat), and blood (because when she was taken out of the cage she was usually put back in as a mangled carcass). She eventually got a UTI from lying in it / because it was so disgusting she stopped grooming herself. Although by that point she was sick, starving, dehydrated, and had maggot infested wounds so it probably would've happened regardless. And then she spent like half of Athanasia not only sick and miserable but having near panic attacks because the infection + not being dehydrated to within an inch of her life for the first time in months was making her go from fine to suddenly having to pee urgently and she was terrified of having an accident.

Also much later a different whumper keeps her in an also way too small cage but with a solid floor and actual bedding, which is almost worse because in theory she'll pee in a corner and try to cover it with the bedding if she's really desperate, but she instinctively hates relieving herself anywhere near where she sleeps so much that she'll wait until she's in severe pain and possibly wet herself, and also she's smart enough to figure out that refusing to drink any water "helps". It's a good thing she has regeneration powers or she'd probably have destroyed her kidneys many times over.

not trying to be gross but some of you guys need to think about how your whumpees go to the bathroom. like that's where my brain goes when someone says restrained or trapped for more than a day. what is the bathroom situation

once you acknowledge it you can use it for further humiliation if you like. or don't if that's too gross for your story. just don't ignore it or i will be thinking about it in the back of my mind the whole time

[nathank77]

10/31/24

10:32 a.m

It's been approximately 365 since I was forced against my will to spend a night in the psych ward and it permanently fucked me up. I'm trying not to dwell... but it's hard not to remember that I microslept and all the events that I'm now having flashbacks to that occurred this day approximately 1 year ago. I remember everything so vividly. I remember i hadn't slept for 4 days. I remember what time I was admitted. I remember what lead to me going to the e.r. I remember what I told them. I remember everything. And I mean everything.

I'm truly trying not to dwell but talking about things helps..considering i don't really have a therapist anymore. Erin stopped seeing me. Mike is sick and cancels legit every single week. And the new therapist canceled 3 times out of 5 appointments....... I didn't have therapy last week..i haven't had therapy this week. So all I have is tumblr.

Anyways I'm trying a new statin as of yesterday night. I have to take it 3 days a week... to try to mitigate side effects..... my wrist hurts... technically I couldn't have slept on it wrong. I feel potentially muscle weakness... idk....... I mean that's the problem.... before starting it I would occasionally have a muscle spasm. Or a sore neck or something from like sleeping on it wrong. Or muscle spasms bc of dehydration/stress/anxiety/caffeine. It makes it hard to know whether or not I am having side effects or if I am anxious and having tactiles....

I realize something very important. I don't have things to do. I mean just laundry, cooking, showering, running errands like grocery shopping.

What does that mean? All i have time to do is have anxiety. All I have time to do is freak out about thing, overthink and create side effects.....my wrist could hurt bc I slept on it wrong, it could hurt from doing the pumpkins. It could hurt from the statin too.

I mean it's problematic. I'd really rather not go on injectables... as a transguy, as happy as I am about testosterone I think about my testosterone it makes me remember it's a commitment to life long injections... or at least creams and gels which I've tried and don't like. The injection is ideal for many reasons. I can't transfer the gel onto someone else. I don't have to put it on everyday.

But as a transguy I truly understand the commitment it is to have to do biweekly injections for the rest of my life. Even if I get my ovaries removed.... id go into menopause in my 30s if I were to stop testosterone...

Of course this injectable medication is different.... but it's a commitment and not one im positive i want to do.

Yet as I'm typing my thumbs hurts... I feel as though it's hurt before.... cause I mean this generation is prone to arthritis.... being a gamer, someone who writes, and someone who texts and uses my phone.

I haven't met anyone. Life doesn't get better and I'm really considering running away since this dog is permanently here with my monthly check and getting that Airbnb and ending it.

I don't have anything to live for. If I was a someone i would pop a new medication. Go to work, pick the kids up, make dinner. And if I was to have anxiety about the side effects sure I could have some... but I'd have less time to dwell and worry about it.

I want to change my diet cause my cheese intake is disgusting and I know it contributes to my chlorestoral..

Sleep was awful last night. I had a dream where I woke up at 8:30 a.m and my alarms never went off. Idk how many hours i got. I must have gotten between 5-7... but falling asleep took a while.

The two nights before, I struggled to fall asleep, it took a while but I did.

Tonight I'm giving myself a tiny bit more xanax since it's the year mark of having spent a night in the psych ward...

I'm wondering how my thyriod is doing. As I'm hungry more frequently... and living behind the barricade I'm sure helps... but there is also another anxiety....what if I'm right and my mother would rather me live behind this barricade until Riley dies and this is my new life. Feeling like I don't matter at all to my family..

I wish I had something to do except have anxiety. I wish I was a someone. I wish the dog would leave..I hope the statin works out.

But it's like sometimes I wake up with neck pain cause I slept funny and id never say it was white mulberries or lions mane.... so it's like a catch 22. I'm hyper vigilant and anxiuos and anxiety can create muscle spasms. And I also have tactile hallucination still.

I feel like my life is purposeless. And I should end it before it gets worse.

[raincamp]

11 07 2023

sh mention trigger warning

my depression has been really bad recently. at least i think its depression? i mean im diagnosed with PDD but its hard to tell most of the time. since its persistent. i dont know what its like to not be depressed. and when it gets worse i never know if im just sick or dehydrated or if its a bad episode, or if its caused by any of my other mental issues.

last night sucked. i dont know how else to describe it except that i felt like the world was ending. not in an anxious panic-attack-y way though, i just like, felt so much emotion that my body physically couldn't handle it. like i felt intense dread, and i felt like i was going to throw up. actually maybe it was a panic attack. weirdest panic attack ive ever had if it was.

anyway during the episode i sat on the bathroom floor and turned on music. and cut myself. thats usually how i know I'm having an episode. its hard to tell otherwise because i invalidate my emotions so much, and with my emotional permanence, its like every emotion i feel is the only thing i ever felt, so i dont really have comparison, except when it comes to physical tangible things.

physical tangible things like laying on the cold tile listening to wild world by cat stevens and feeling tears run down my face and my throat hoarse and blood dripping down my arm to stain my floor.

after patching myself up i didnt really know what to do, i told myself i would get up and do something but the minute i layed down on my bed exhaustion overtook me.

so i texted my roommate asking for help. she was still at work but i asked her to "give me emotional support in whatever way she could handle offering it" and i also said "its completely valid if you dont have the emotional capacity for me"

i have a lot of fear of burdening other people, which is why i used to not ask for help, but in therapy i learned that its ok to ask for other people to meet our needs, and so on the rare occasion that i do i usually leave ample space for the other person to say no. i dont want to force them into anything.

when she got home from work she made me tea and let me talk to her for a whole hour. immediately i felt better and went to bed with no problems. i was even able to abstain from drinking and smoking before bed :) i dont fucking deserve her

anyway, i woke up today feeling the same as i did yesterday. exhausted, lethargic, apathetic. i want nothing more than to lose myself in hobbies i enjoy, or accomplish something, but I can't. i tried yesterday, i would get out of bed, get dressed, and prepare myself to be productive, but the moment i started a task exhaustion would come over me again and i would find myself back in bed.

i wish i could sleep, because it feels like thats what my body needs, but no matter how much i try, i cant. ive been making it a point to eat and stay hydrated, but thats not helping, so the only thing i can suppose it is, is depression.

i hate that i cant even distract myself. scrolling mindlessly on my phone is boring, watching tv or youtube is boring, listening to music is boring, reading fic is boring, i even tried hanging out with my other roommate for an hour and i couldn't do anything but lay there.

i tried setting up an appointment with a psychiatrist so i can go back on antidepressants but the website wont let me make an account or appointment with anyone because it keeps starting over/refreshing the account making process every ten minutes. and i dont have the patience to sit through that.

i hate feeling like this, but i really cant do anything but try to keep myself alive. right now.

- andrew

[youthoughtiwasserious]

Because of my disabilities, both physical and mental, I have a love-hate relationship with trips.

I'm taking a very short road trip (2.5h one-way) to a friend's house for the Labor Day weekend. We'll be staying for 2 nights, then leave sometime early on Monday.

Packing for extended trips always stresses me out because of all the items I need to bring with me (and remember to bring). I don't need much in the way of clothing or toiletries, but meds and safe foods are a must for me. I have EDS, POTS, PCOS, IBS, OAB, & reactive airways dysfunction syndrome. All of these conditions can (and often do) act up at any point, so I always need to pack a bunch of shit to cover my bases.

Here's an idea as to what meds/medical items I packed for this short trip:

2 inhalers (steroid & rescue)

Medicated cough drops

Regular cough drops

SeaBands (luckily I don't get motion sickness on car rides -knock on wood- but I have them with me just in case)

Ginger lozenges (these are AMAZING for nausea, which I get pretty often & I hate bc I have emetophobia)

Extra strength antacids (for nausea or indigestion [a lot of foods bother me, unfortunately])

Charcoal pills (for when I ate something that REALLY bothered me & the lozenges don't work. Used cautiously & only as a last resort so it doesn't fuck with my medication)

Magnesium (for when I lean more toward IBS-C & for anxiety/POTS)

Small vial of salt (for POTS/rapid rehydration)

Electrolyte drink mixes (also for POTS)

Extra strength Tylenol (both regular & menstrual versions)

Antihistamines (sometimes these help with joint/muscle pain related to MCAS)

Compression socks (for pain & blood circulation)

Compression gloves (for pain)

Bengay or IcyHot

Urination device (for if my OAB acts up & there isn't a rest stop for a while)

Extra underwear & wipes (self-explanatory)

Towels (self-explanatory)

Big-ass water bottle (I get dehydrated v easily)

Safe snacks such as mixed nuts, Nature Valley protein bars, & peanut butter snack packs)

And I tried to pack LIGHT. But due to having COVID ~3 weeks ago, it's causing a flare-up for my lung condition, so I've had to be more aggressive with my treatment until I go for another pulmonary function test in October. It also must have messed up my already messed up hormones because it caused me to have a period for six weeks. The dizziness, headaches, and nausea that came along with losing blood for so long was not fun whatsoever. Now I'm just trying to be extra prepared for trips where I know I'm going to be expending a lot of energy & where I won't have access to my full "sick kit."

I also end up feeling embarrassed about needing to take care of myself when I'm not feeling well because I'm the only person in my friend group that's disabled. And they often forget that because, well, I don't ""look disabled."" I also don't like to bring it up too much because I feel like a killjoy, or like I'm holding them back. Often they're v chill about it when I do bring it up, which I'm super grateful for, but I can tell that sometimes they're thinking, "Really? You can't handle even this?" Which is...not great.

Anyway, remembering to pack all this shit, on top of all the other items that need to be packed, SUCKS. It gets so overwhelming for my executive dysfunction (bc ofc I have ADHD, too). I try to put lists together for each category so that I don't have to rely solely on memory as I'm packing, and it helps with not forgetting anything when it's time to pack up and go home. It's still a tad stressful to see so many items on my lists, but at least checking them off as I pack them is pretty quick.

Another thing that sucks when getting ready for a trip is time blindness always screws me over when I'm getting ready. Regardless of how early I get up or how many timers I set, I ALWAYS manage to take too long getting ready & then I leave for my trip way later than I wanted to. Luckily we hit the road only like 10 minutes later than we wanted, so it wasn't too much of a delay, but man that race against the clock always adds an element of stress that I could do without.

A saving grace for this trip so far has been my earbuds. I have the Anker Soundcore A40s I think & they are phenomenal (not sponsored I promise). I get overstimulated by sound pretty easily, and that includes the wind whipping around the car on the highway, or my life partner's psychedelic rock playing on the radio at a low volume (but still "too loud" for me). My solution this trip has been to put in my earbuds & turn on noise cancellation with no music playing. Oh my goodness I have felt so fucking chill since doing that. It no joke dims out the sound by like half - even with no music playing. Also they don't dig into my ears after a while like my 1st gen Galaxy Buds do, so I could wear these for hours. I'm honestly going to do this for my trip to Cancun 2 months from now bc holy shit this feels like a cheat code for me.

Honestly, I like trips. I'm not a fan of planes, but I'll get on one if it means I get to visit my friends and family in another state, or go to another country. I work in an office, so being on the road and feeling the sun warm my skin as I passively drink in the scenery that surrounds me is such a welcomed change of pace. Using the car ride as an excuse to ramble on about silly or deep things with my tripmate(s), belt at the top of our lungs to a musical soundtrack, or sort through my many scattered thoughts to my steering wheel, is something that I will never take for granted. Being able to escape, even just for a little while, the monotony of everyday life is what makes traveling worth it for me.

I often don't get the chance to see family, friends, or new places. Due to my disabilities and the chronic fatigue that comes with them, life experiences are not as frequent as I would love for them to be. So when the rare chance comes my way - assuming I'm not nursing a migraine, vertigo, or stomach issues - I jump on that shit.

I was not feeling this trip when I first got up this morning. I was dreading the packing, the drive, the symptom management, the planning of what foods I could eat at the restaurant my friends want to visit, & also I've been dealing with some pretty hefty social anxiety and rejection sensitivity lately so I've been avoiding social interactions. But the first part of the day ended up being okay, plus the trip has been smooth so far since we got on the road -knock on wood again-, so I'm a little more hopeful about the actual visit going well. Fingers crossed it's more fun and positive than I'm expecting.

[zooophagous]

I'm telling you, it was a God damn vampire."

The tense man waved his hands for emphasis. Ursula maintained her cool facade. Of course he was correct, the description of the mysterious assailant was easy enough to positively ID. But she wasn't about to tell HIM that.

"Hmm. What makes you say vampire, Mr. Erickson?"

"Look, I know crazy drunks can bite too. I've seen enough fights. But there was something... I don't know. He was fucking creepy, ok?"

"Is that all?"

"He had sharp teeth AND freaked out when I threw garlic at him."

"And you're certain he wasn't just freaking out because you stepped in at all?"

"No, I saw it burn him. He had red marks all over where I hit him. That was a vampire. That was a Goddamned vampire!"

"Mr. Erickson." Ursula clicked her pen and put her paper pad away. "You've been very helpful with our missing person investigation, so I'll be perfectly honest with you. Vampires are not real. Our dear friend Mr. Strauss however is very sick, physically and mentally. He needs to be brought back into care for his own good. Please understand because of HIPAA I cannot disclose to you the specifics about what is wrong with him, but any relevant vaccines or other medical care the injured party requires will be compensated, as will any theft."

"I'm not really worried about that. I'm only down one beer. Sam gets workman's comp. He needed stitches though, just so you know. You should do a better job keeping your patients off the streets. Hey, this guy wasn't contagious with anything was he? He looked like total shit."

"The condition Mr. Strauss has cannot be passed on by a simple superficial bite like this. I understand your concern but if your friend keeps his wound clean it will heal on its own. Unless he tried to take a bite out of Strauss to get back at him." She huffed a little laugh through her nose, then paused. "...He didn't, did he?"

"I uh. I don't think so? Not that I saw. I don't think Sam is dumb enough to put his mouth on the guy."

"Well. Double check with him, and if he has done something that stupid, call me here." She scrawled a number quickly and handed it over to the shaken bartender.

"You still ain't caught the guy huh."

"No. But shortly he will be very hungry and dehydrated. He will appear soon, and we'll be ready. Thank you for your help, Mr. Erickson. You may go."

Strauss awoke blearily in his cardboard dumpster shelter. The tears in his eyes had frozen overnight in the cold, and he wiped them painfully away as he stretched. It was daylight, he could see it streaming through the slight gap between the lid and the metal hull. He had been awakened by noise in the alley.

A terrible deep rumble of some kind of truck, which was drawing nearer and nearer. The sound began to make him panic, and he shoved his way out of the receptacle in time to startle a waste management employee who had come by to collect the recycling. The man cried out in surprise, but didn't try to stop him. Strauss ran down the alley in his damp slippers. So much for shelter. And now the sun was out too, peaking from behind hazy grey clouds. He pulled his jacket up over his head as far as he could get it, but he would have to find real shelter soon.

He looked up and down the little street at the different shops. That was cover from sunlight, sure, but it was also proximity to people. Proximity to stressors, to temptation, to witnesses- and he remembered how well that went. He still had the stinging welts.

He would have worse to worry about though if he didn't make a decision fast. The heat on his skin was already uncomfortable mere moments after being exposed. He walked at a brisk pace, as if he could outrun the sun. He kept his head bent down, squinting blindly in the daylight.

He didn't really have much idea where he was going, except that it was towards a thick of trees in what appeared to be some manner of park. There were people in the park, but not as many as were in the shops. He stepped into the little cluster of trees and pressed off the sidewalk as deep as he could go. The park was adjacent to a river, and along the broken steep bank of the river was salvation. A drainage pipe- a massive one, easily large enough to accommodate a man. Jack pot.

A heavy grate was over the entrance, or perhaps it was heavy to an ordinary man. Strauss found his way past it and curled up in the dark. It was wet in here, too. He inwardly wondered if he would ever be dry again. His wet mildew smell was now accompanied by a fresh coat of mud. There was no blending in casually now, looking so utterly wretched. Cloud cover looked to be rolling in, slowly. Maybe if it got a bit thicker he could venture out and find something to eat.

Artemis sat in the driver's side of the black sedan and stared down glumly at her phone. A set of photos had just finished downloading, treating her to the grisly spectacle of the bouncer's arm, marred by a deep gash, and a second photo where it had been repaired with an ugly set of ten dark stitches.

"Is it bad?" Troy asked shyly as he craned is neck from the passenger seat to get a glimpse of her phone.

"Yeah, it's pretty bad. Can't lie." She sighed heavily.

"So what, then, he decided to just go rogue and start picking people off?"

"Thing about that is, Troy, I don't really think that's what he did." She stowed the phone. "I know it sounds like I'm making excuses for him but this is really out of character. Both his stated morals and his history don't really mesh with this. I think he did it under duress."

"You sure you're not just giving him too much credit?"

"I'm not saying it just because he's my friend. Look at the way it happened. I mean, Strauss is sheltered but he's not stupid. He's been around a couple hundred years, he knows how this all works. He isn't about to break out, and then immediately attack someone in public where there's witnesses. It's really stupid to do this if you're not trying to get caught."

"Maybe he does want to be caught? I mean, he's never really expressed that strong of an opinion about leaving. Maybe he's got regrets."

"I'm very sure he does, but I don't think he'd go THIS far just to get our attention. I think after this... he's probably too scared to let himself be found now."

"Scared of us?"

"More of Ursula than of us." She sighed. "I don't really think Auntie wants to just kill him outright either, but the way she treats him, do you think he believes that? He probably thinks this is life or death."

"Or death and REAL death, for a vampire."

"Right."

"So where do we go from here?"

"Well, I think he's going to want to keep moving. It's supposed to rain today, so I have a hunch he'll be out during day time to try and make some tracks. We've got people watching for him at the bus stations and the Amtrak, so hopefully by keeping it to a foot chase we can slow him down."

"Never thought I'd get to see a Van Helsing actually hunt a vampire. Wish I could say it was kind of cool."

"Yeah, Troy, wish I could say I was enjoying it."

Strauss waited till he could see ripples on the river's surface to emerge again. It had started to rain, so now would be a fine chance to capture a bird or a squirrel. His assault on the bouncer the other night had given him a nice little hit of blood, but he'd been 'interrupted' before getting a decent share. He'd have to go get more.

He was torn between feeling remorseful for harming a complete stranger and angry he wasn't able to get more out of him. If he was to commit the sin of attacking a human he could have at least gotten a full meal. No such luck.

There didn't seem to be mice in the park. He was very reluctant to move from his list of safe foods, but it was just another concession he now had to make. Squirrels were close enough. Larger, too- he could get three mice worth out of one large squirrel he was sure. They were also incredibly common. He could see several of them just out in the open, accustomed to humans and unafraid.

He wished he'd tried the park first, could have spared everyone so much trouble. He quietly plodded after a fat squirrel that lazily scampered away from him. Once close enough, he extended his will over it. A wild squirrel was a little harder to wrangle than a domestic mouse, but not by much. The squirrel stopped running, and sat still. He wandered over to it and picked it up. He clicked his jaws open wide and prepared to drain it.

"What are you doing?"

He stopped. In his focus on the squirrel, he'd forgotten there were still people in the park. He turned around to see a child. A little girl, barely five if that, in a bright pink coat, looking up at him expectantly.

He looked at the squirrel and then looked around. "Where are your parents. You should not talk to strangers."

"Are you eating the squirrel?"

He tilted his head at the question. "Yes."

"Why?"

He was a bit dumbfounded at her question. He wasn't about to lie to a child, however.

"I am a vampire. Do you see my fangs?" He bared his teeth at her. "I need to eat blood. The squirrel has blood."

"Oh." She looked at the squirrel and pouted her lips.

"Does it make you sad that I am going to eat the squirrel?" He sighed.

"Uh-huh."

He rolled his eyes. "Alright. I will let the squirrel go. Here, I will set him in this tree." He turned and placed the dazed rodent in a low branch. And for good measure, plucked an acorn from the grass and shoved it into the little animal's confused paws.

"There. Better?"

"Yeah." She grinned a gap toothed little smile. Then, as randomly as she had appeared, she ran off again. Strauss followed her with his eyes until he spotted her parents coming to collect her. Good, she wasn't out unsupervised, then. He turned on his heels and walked off before the parents noticed the scruffy vagabond that had been talking to their child.

She was a dear. Very similar to his own, when he had her. But fond memories didn't fill stomachs. He didn't want a squirrel anyway. Maybe if he were clever he could find a source of mice. Now, where in a city would one find a ready supply of that?

"So, any luck?" Artemis asked the cell phone flatly.

"He isn't in the cemetery, he hasn't been spotted at any coffee shop, and he hasn't been to the library so far as we can tell." Ursula replied.

"Have there been any other bite reports?"

"No, and he better hope it stays that way. I'm waiting on the dog team to arrive now. With any luck he's sleeping and will be easy to track."

"Ok. Keep me posted." Artemis ended the call with a sigh.

"I don't know, Artie." Troy shrugged. "I feel like we're doing this wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Strauss is very particular about the way he wants things. He doesn't like change. We should be checking gyms to see if he's used their showers. We could see if the Walmart has had anyone trying to sleep in their home goods section. Or... his favorite food is mice, right?"

"Yes?"

"Ok, so where can we find mice. He's gotta be getting hungry. Is there a pet store here?"

Artemis nodded. It was as good a lead as any.

"There's a Pets R Inn on 7th, it can't hurt to try."

[imtheasssniffer]

(Heads up: this story contains major scat, physical abuse, rape, and kidnapping fantasies. Read at your own risk. Sorry if this isn’t your type of story. It’s not even really my type of story. I just felt like diversifying my page for you sickos. Plus I was in a mood.)

Big Boy

You watched in fear as he flexed his bicep. You saw his muscle flex. Growing to an intimidating size. Same for the muscle bulging in his underwear. Slowly getting larger as he watched the fear in your eyes get stronger. He chuckled, knowing that you were completely terrified of what he’d do to you. He owned you. Ever since he picked you off the street. He’s been torturing you in violent and disgusting ways. Forcing you to endure every single aspect of his body. Not only the force it could exert, the smells it could produce, but also the waste he could excrete.

Everyday, ever since he stole you from the world, and completely robbed you of your humanity. He found even more ways to torture you. More creative and dehumanizing ways to put you down. He got off on making you feel like nothing. That’s why when you flinched at his flexed arm, his dick started to get harder.

“Kiss it,” he said slapping his bicep.

“Come on. I don’t want to wait,” he continued. You moved towards his arm, and planted your lips onto his muscles. Kissing him softly, afraid to be too harsh, or too lenient. He planted his meaty hand on the back of your head, and patted your scalp. Your fear somewhat subsided, until you felt him clench your hair, and pull you back. You landed on the floor completely shocked. The terror filled your eyes again, and he just got even more hyped.

He pounced on top of you. Using his left hand to crush the back of your skull against the floor, and his right to punch you in the face. It felt like your head was going to cave in from the pressure his body weight exerted on top of you. Not to mention the fact that his punch felt like it completely unhinged your jaw. You felt your cheek get warm, and start to swell up, but even before you could react he spit onto your face, and then slapped you hard. You gasped from the brutishness, and by the time you finished inhaling he had backed up, and let go of your skull. Before cupping both of his hands together, and forcefully punching your gut, like he was spiking a volleyball at the olympics. You wheezed as all of the air left your body. You heard him chuckle in ecstasy above you, and the slight anger you felt was quickly replaced by nausea, as the weight of the blow made you weakly throw up on the floor beside you.

“You miserable bitch. Now you’re making a mess on my floor?” He stated in a harsh, but somewhat joking matter. Before you could even react to him. He grabbed your throat and squeezed. You clawed at his hands, and tried to unhinge his meaty fingers from around your neck, but his grasp wasn’t letting go. After over a minute of laying there losing consciousness, he let go. Watching you gasp for air. He was so powerful. He even controlled the air that you breathed. He knew this. That’s why he pulled out his dick, and started slowly jerking.

“Yknow I gotta take a piss, and since you already messed up my floor. I might as well add my own mess to it,” he said menacingly. You already knew what this meant. It wasn’t the first time he peed on you. Hell it wouldn’t even be the first he made you drink it, but you were still completely disgusted.

He stood up above you. Forcing you to see how big he was, as he towered over your feeble, weak, wheezing body on the floor. You watched as he stroked his cock a couple more times, before pointing it down at you, and letting go. He wasn’t lying. He really did have to take a piss. It was warm and fragrant, and it lasted a long time. Clearly he was enjoying it. He rained down on your face at first. Getting some in your mouth, then he moved down to your chest. Going in little loopty-loops, and moaning at the release. He pointed down to where he punched your stomach. Further highlighting the warmth of the bruising he had caused.

“Damn, looks like I’m dehydrated.” He was enjoying making a show, of releasing every single last drop onto you. Spurting out just a little more. Over and over agin, until his dick ran completely dry. The room smelt like urine. It was devastating.

“I want you to clean this shit up,” he menacingly demanded. You started to painfully get up, but he squatted over you and planted a hand on your chest. He shoved you roughly onto the floor.

“Not yet!”

You watched as he peeled his underwear fully off, and then turned around. Hovering his ass over your face.

“Open wide!” You grimaced at the thought of what was about to happen. You begged,

“Please, no.” You heard a sinister chuckle, and then he demanded again,

“Open your damn mouth, or I’ll beat your jaw open!” Knowing that he had every intention of keeping his word. You complied. Opening your mouth widely. He looked back at you, and grumbled,

“Good.” He fell onto your face. Crushing your skull onto the hardwood floor once again. His asshole sat over your mouth, pulsing, pushing. You groaned into his ass, and he chuckled again. He did it. He made you a lower life form. You were his toilet now, and you had no say in the matter.

PPprRRTtTttT

A wet fart boomed into your mouth and echoed down your cheeks. It lasted 3 seconds and reeked. You heard him laugh, as his farts filled your mouth. He hovered over you again. Leaving a few inches between your face and his hole.

BblLaaRRtT

His fart was more wet this time. It was getting sloppier.

“Here she comes bitch. She’s a big one.” You didn’t want to look, but when you heard the squelching of his ass hole. You became compelled to see what was leaving his insides. Instant regret washed over you, as you saw a large brown log leave his ass. He let out a determined grunt, and then it started to rush out. It eventually touched your tongue, which caused you to instantly gag at its rancid taste. Before long. The huge, long turd plopped into your mouth. With a sick wet sloppy noise. It filled your mouth to the brim.

“Eat it up cunt. I got more for you.” You watched again as his hole opened, and another large, beefy, brown log began to push its way out. You couldn’t seriously eat that. Could you? His shit smelled like beef jerky and manure. Pretty much what you’d expect a truck stop bathroom to smell like. It was rancid, but the smell couldn’t prepare you for the taste. The intensity of the flavor, when it first touched your tongue was vile. Truly the worst thing he’d ever forced you to endure. You only grew more disgusted, as you were forced to chew, and swallow the disgusting shit. Begrudgingly sinking your teeth into the solid muddy slime. You swallowed in chunks, not wanting to chew all the way. You weren’t even able to finish swallowing the first by the time the second plopped into your mouth. You felt like you were drowning.

“Ahh. Fuck. Looks like there’s no toilet paper. Do you mind?” he asked just before scratching his hole on the bridge of your nose.

“Well shit, it looks like the toilet’s clogged.” He smiled over you. Further belittling you. He turned around and looked down at you again.

“Here let me help,” he said, as he stroked his clock and rammed it into your shit filled mouth.

“Aww. I didn’t expect that to feel so good.”

You felt sick. You could vomit again at any moment. What made matters worse, was that he was shoving shit down your throat. Using his dick as a ram for his feces to go deeper down your throat, choking you. He just kept forcing his dick into your mouth, deeper and deeper. You hated to think it, but it was actually helping you to swallow his shit.

“Ohh, damn.” He moaned above you,

“I’m one nasty fuck,” he giggled. As you finished ingesting his shit. His dick thrusted deeper into your throat. He wasn’t letting you catch your breath. You laid helpless on the floor, as he roughly fucked your throat. When he finally reached his climax, he pulled his dick from inside of you and erupted onto your face.

“Oh my god,” he exclaimed as he shot ropes of cum onto you. He panted softly over you, and then looked down into your eyes.

“Go clean yourself up, and then clean this damn room.” He slapped your face and continued,

“You did a good job.” You slowly got up and went to the bathroom. You immediately started to wash your mouth, and face, when you heard him say,

“Next time we’re doing it human centipede style. Less mess.” You began to silently weep, as you accepted that this was now your life.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Appraisals

Today was a good day. Tiring, and painful, but good.

As mentioned, I was asked to come into work today instead of yesterday, because short-handed. Which ... no kidding - Temp, Goblin, and the other part-timer were all out. Honestly, while it did make the sheer volume of work a little stressful, but it could have been worse. No, the worst of it was that it was pouring rain when I left the house. Yegh.

Of course, the other level of stress was it being employee appraisal day. I hate employee appraisals. I always dread them. It’s not that I think I’m bad at my job; I am fully aware that I’m not. It’s just frustrating to have this whole questionnaire and meeting with manager to figure out how you’re doing at your job. I do my job. I do it to the best of my ability. And if I judge that I’m doing better at my job than manager does, that’s just embarrassing. And most managers are happy to use those to try to bully employees into working even harder than they already were. I should know; I’ve had a few like that.

So I went into little borrowed office serving as ‘meeting room’ with Scruffman, and mostly it started with a discussion wherein we determined that I really only had to go in if they were drastically understaffed as far as Scruffman is concerned, and that we’ll meet up in March to talk about my taking more hours on days when I’m working from home. Then we moved on to the actual appraisal and ... apparently I distinctly underestimate myself. We talked about the various ways I’ve been streamlining the typing process (macros set on our transcription system for specific phrases that get used all the time so I don’t have to type them in full, stuff like that). The fact that I’m always willing to help out with urgent typing, digging up reports on request, helping with minor IT issues, whatever else comes up. That I apparently listen well before I try to give input into something. Even the fact that I bring in treats for the staff when I’m doing my Making Things binges. A couple of places I put down “Meets Expectations” got summarily changed to “Exceeds Expectations”, which was the overall ‘score’, if you like, of my appraisal. Which ... I mean, hey. I try. It’s nice to know that I’m doing as well as I generally want to be.

(I did bring up Temp’s tendency to try to skip the long typing as much as possible. I also flagged up that I didn’t mind that much now that I’m in a better ergonomic environment and not having to commute, because typing the long ones hurts and can sometimes be the straw that broke the camel’s back in that sort of situation, but that it was just annoying. Dunno what comes of that but at least it’s said.)

Also spoke about upcoming bus strike issues (every Thursday for the next month). The conclusion we’ve generally come to is “Unless there’s massive sickness and we need someone for the phones, I’m happy for you to just stay home”. So I’m going to text on the affected Thursdays to see if he needs me and if he doesn’t, I will stay home. Flexibility is apparently just another perk of being good at my job ... and I honestly think he’s noticed that I actually do work better at home, at least in terms of volume.

Meeting ended with a fistbump ... which I had to be careful about because apparently I now have dyshidrotic eczema, particularly on the right hand. Not the usual part of the fist that gets bumped, but still. Then a little more typing and I headed for home ... via the big Tesco, but that’s because I am a masochist. Well, also because I wanted and needed a few things. Apples and peaches for the dehydrator, because I’m about to have a week off and healthy snacks are A Thing. Dill and cucumbers for the refrigerator dill pickles, ditto. Butter for various bits of cookery that I’ll work on tomorrow because some of it’s gifts. Sellotape because I’d rather buy it and not need it than get home and realise I don’t have any and have to go out on Christmas fucking Eve. And a steak for me because I damn well earned one.

So now I’ve got cinnamon sugar apple chips a-dehydrating, cucumber spears (and one jar of slices) are soaking up nice dill brine, and I should go to bed but various of my glorious friends threw video games at my head for Christmas. I mean, I threw video games at theirs too but that’s beside the point. The point is that I have a ... very varied selection of video games to play now. Though given that I still hurt like hell and it’s late, probably best not to start on anything new.

Anyway, I have the whole upcoming week. I told Milady on my way out that my plans for the holidays involved, barring visiting the parentals for Christmas dinner and the occasional trip to the corner shop, just not leaving the house. She asked if that was desirable. I said, “I have new video games”. And that’s before I got PowerWash Simulator and both Shadows Over Loathing and West of Loathing thrown at my head. So ... yeah. Those, Munchkin Digital, and A Plague Tale: Innocence (I’m not normally very good at those kinds of games but I didn’t think I’d be any good at Horizon: Zero Dawn either, so there you go). Plus whatever I pick up in the Steam holiday sale with or without Steam gift cards from the parentals. Sometimes you just have to add to the Big List of Games I Need To Play, I guess?

Last thing: there is little in this world more satisfying as looking at your alarm ... and turning it off because you won’t need it for more than a week. (Also somebody please remind me that I have two weeks of annual leave I still need to book.)

[twinklelilstarkey]

can i request an fluffy rafe imagine where he and reader break up (drugs) so sarah makes a girls night bc y/n it’s really sad and then rafe apologizes to her and they back together? omg i think it’s a little confuse..

A/N: Not confusing at all babe. I really like what you requested! Hope you enjoy it! — I’m sorry for not making it as fluffy as you probably wanted me too ❤️

Get help - Rafe Cameron

Words: 2.9k

Type: Angst & Fluff

Warnings: I- This is wayyy more sad that I intended it to be. Sorry? (Mentions of drug addiction and rehabilitation clinics, swearing... and I think that’s it)

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

It’s been a week since you last saw him and it still hurt. You miss him so much and it has become harder and harder to ignore these feelings. You have tried making yourself believe that this happened for the best of the two of you but it’s slowly getting tougher to swallow.

You and Rafe had been dating for years before that night happened, it still hurt to think of him.

You believe you’ve cried everything you could. Your body is now completely dehydrated and no tears are being created. In which you can’t help but thank with your now zombie-like mood.

“I’m going to get us a coffee, do you want anything else?” Sarah, your best friend, who is sitting next to you, asks.

You shake your head and she gives you a small smile. You stare back at the screen of your laptop, in hopes to finish what you were previously doing for school, and try to ignore all the sound around you.

You whisper the words you were reading to yourself, trying to make them make sense, but your peaceful silence is broken by a group of guys walking in the café. You sigh annoyed while staring at the screen, wanting to throw something at their loud mouths. But decide otherwise.

“Hey, Sarah. Haven’t seen you in a while” One of the guy says and you lift your eyes to where Sarah is standing.

Sarah smiles at Topper and starts a conversation as soon as she does it. You look away from them and look at the other person standing beside him, Rafe. He’s looking around himself, eyeing the inside of the café that he has never seen before. 

You force yourself to look away and lean back on the couch that you’re siting, trying to pay attention to something else other than him as your chest gets heavier and heavier by each second that passes.

Sarah says a little goodbye to Topper and ignores her brother’s presence before walking towards you. Rafe fakes trying to trip Sarah and she sends him a glare, which just made all the boys laugh. 

His eyes follow his sister and his smile falls at the sight of you staring at the screen of your laptop. You look up at Sarah as she hands you your drink and laugh at something she says.

He pleads, in his mind, for you to look up at him but you don’t do it. You’re too distracted with whatever his sister is saying to you. And only God knows that might be.

“Yo, Rafe. Can you please come back to Earth for a second?” Topper asks, making his best friend snap out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, what, sorry?”

(...)

“I promise it will be cool” Sarah insists, “We can spend the night watching movies and eating junk food”

“How is going to my ex boyfriend’s house going to help me move on or even feel better?” You ask as she lays comfortably in your bed.

“He’s never home at Friday’s!” She exclaims, “We’ll have the house to ourselves the whole night. It’s way better than staying here, where you need to have your door open because of your parents... Seriously, when are they going to trust you enough to close the door?”

You chuckle at her words and shake your head.

“Ah! Made you laugh!”

You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to your book.

“Now, can you please agree on coming over to my house? It will be so cool, I already have so many movies in mind. Oh! And soooo many snacks”

You think for a few seconds in silence.

“Please” She whispers into the air, looking at the ceiling, “You will have so much fuuun”

As Sarah is done singing her words, a smile fills your lips again and you sigh.

“Fine. But just tonight”

(...)

If Sarah could describe out loud what she’s feeling, she would have to do a whole essay. Because...

Why the fuck is Rafe still home at this time of day? Isn’t he supposed to be in a party?

The thing is, you’re almost getting to her house. Just like you had planned. There’s snacks on top of Sarah’s bed, the chosen movie is already paused at her bedroom tv and the pizza is also on its way.

Her 19 year old brother is the one fucking it all up. 

You’re supposed to come into her home to forget about him, and be calm and relaxed. And now, she feels like wherever she looks, Rafe’s there.

“Weren’t you supposed to be at a party today?” Sarah finally asks.

Rafe looks up from his phone, still leaning back on the kitchen counter, not even knowing that she had been glaring at him this whole time.

“Yeah, but I decided not to go” He answers with a shrug.

“Won’t that make you a bad friend?”

She’s using every play in the book now. She needs him gone for at least the whole night.

Rafe chuckles at his sister’s words and looks at her confused.

“No?”

Sarah sighs and walks over to the fridge when listening to his answer. Rafe follows her with his eyes as she fills a cup with water and curiosity takes over him.

“Why?”

“No reason”

“Bullshit”

Sarah rolls her eyes at his stubbornness and looks back before staring back at him.

“I wanted the whole house for myself and my friend, is that too much to ask?”

Rafe laughs.

“Since when am I such a bother to your little sleepovers? You never leave your room anyway”

Sarah opens her mouth to answer but the ringing of the doorbell stops her from doing so. Rafe lifts his eyebrows as if in surprise when seeing her reaction and lowers his eyes back to his phone.

Sarah glares at her brother when noticing that he isn’t planning on leaving the kitchen any soon and turns on her heels to go to the front door. 

As she walks closer to the door, she smiles at you through the glass and opens it.

“Hi!” She says excitingly, “Are you ready for the night of your life?”

You smile at her, “Sure”.

Sarah steps to the side to let you in the house, and you wait for her to start walking towards her room so you can follow her.

As you pass the kitchen doorway, you can’t help but look inside. You’re used to looking in and seeing Rose doing something, but this time, it isn’t Rose. It’s Rafe.

Air gets caught in your throat and you look away as quickly as you can. Rafe stays on his phone innocently, not even acknowledging who just came into his house.

Should you say something to Sarah? Does she not know that he’s in the house too?

You and Sarah get to her room rather quickly and she closes the door right behind you two as you walk in.

She’s quick to lay in her bed and open the covers for you, and you can’t help but grin at her as she opens one bag of chips right away.

“You ready?” She asks before pressing the play and you nod, “Let’s go”

Sarah presses the play and the sound of the universal studios entrance fills the silent room. You bring the covers closer to you and Sarah hands you the bag of chips just so you can take some of them.

And...

Not even halfway through the movie, Sarah highly regrets watching the movie while laying down because she’s out like a light.

You stare at the TV in silence, grinning slightly at Sarah’s slight snores as the main characters talk about their feelings in the TV.

But your mind is occupied with something else. You’re not paying much attention to the movie anymore. The plot stopped being of your interested when you noticed that Sarah had chosen the movie purely because of the cast.

Understandable, we’ve all done it. But romance movies are not a good choice when you’re trying to forget your failed relationship.

Already tired with your thoughts, you stand on your feet, away from the bed and drag yourself out of the bedroom.

Rafe must be in his party, now, since that was what Sarah said when you questioned his presence in the kitchen.

You walk down the stairs of the empty and silent house and drag your warm feet over the cold ground towards the kitchen.

As you grab a cup from the shelf above you, you almost groan at all the memories that hit you at once.

All the times that you and Rafe made breakfast on his days off classes, eating cheap fluffy pancakes until you felt sick with just the idea of drinking water. Or when you helped him through a big hangover after a big party.

The second memory hits you like a tone of bricks. 

Those mornings and the nights before, after the parties, were the reason of your breakup. You couldn’t stand to see Rafe kill himself with all the alcohol almost every night and the various drugs that his friends could get a hold of each month.

You walk towards the fridge, chest heavy with heartbreak, and fill your cup with cold water. The feeling of the freezing temperature over your fingertips wakes you up back to reality.

You hear steps in the hallway, right outside of the kitchen, and you don’t think much of it as it might be Sarah.

The door swings open and your eyes widen slightly at the sight of Rafe. His hair a complete mess, his eyes hold a sleepless look, and his clothes are slightly scrunched up. He looks like he’s had a rough night.

You don’t say anything, looking away as he looks at you. He clears his throat as if to fill the silence in the air and walks towards the shelf, grabbing a glass cup. 

He didn’t know you were the one sleeping over.

He doesn’t look at you or says anything. 

You can’t help but think in all this silence how much you want to run home, right now. You love Sarah but you can’t stay here any longer.

Your feet don’t move from under you and you’re left to stare at the floor as Rafe fills his cup with water as well. 

Both of you silent, fearing to break the peaceful absence of sound as your minds fill with all the good memories and the possible beginnings of conversation.

You finish your water and walk towards the sink to leave the cup beside it. Rafe’s eyes stay on you as you do it, but you don’t care to look up before walking out of the kitchen.

“Shit” Rafe whispers to himself as he hears your footsteps getting further away from the doorway.

You walk in the living room, not wanting to go back to bed, and make your way towards the glass sliding doors that lead to the porch.

The warm air of the last summer night hits you and you walk out, leaving the door slightly open. You walk towards the railing of the porch and lean against it, watching the calm waters under the dim lighting coming from the house.

You sigh as you rest your cheek over your fist and close your eyes to try and concentrate on your breathing other than your feelings.

The door behind you slides slightly but you don’t care to look back to see who it is. But that is until, it slides closed and someone stands right beside you.

“I wanted to talk to you” Rafe says.

You take a quick look at him before staring away into the grass of the garden right in front of you.

“About?” You ask in a whisper as he doesn’t say anything else.

“I don’t know” He answers with a shrug and you frown in confusion, “I just wanted to talk to you”

He really likes making everything worse for you, uh?

“We’re not supposed to be in talking terms,” You answer, “Not after our last conversation”

“I know”

You look down at your hands and play with your fingers as a way to fight out your emotions.

“I’ve- Uhm...” Rafe starts but pauses. You look up at him and see him scratching the back of his neck while staring at the ground.

“You’ve what?” You encourage.

“I’ve been clean for a week” He admits and looks down at you.

You look away and do a very small smile, rather fake, while staring at the grass once again.

“Hope it lasts” You say before biting your cheek.

“Me too”

Silence, again.

“I’m... I’m sorry for not listening to you before. About the addiction, I mean.”

You don’t say anything.

“You were right, and I was too stupid to not want to listen to you” He continues, “I’m sorry”

You look up to find him still staring. His gaze softens at the sight of you finally looking back and you give him a slight grin.

“You don’t need to say sorry. I’m sure it’s not something easy to swallow, to hear someone say that you’re addicted to something”

Rafe observes your expression twitch slightly at the mention of his addiction and his chest tightens at your saddened gaze as you sigh.

“I did it to myself” He admits with a shrug, “Just didn’t expect these many consequences to come from it”

“Like?”

The look he gives you is a good enough answer. You look away with that and he tenses up next to you.

He just screwed everything up, didn’t he?

“It happens, Rafe” You whisper, “At least it was able to motivate you into changing”

“Yeah... It was” He agrees, “I just- you know, feel like this could’ve been done in other ways”

“Of course, it could’ve” You answer bringing your shoulder up as if you’re shrugging, “This is just where our argument took us”

Rafe can’t help but disagree. It wasn’t the ‘argument’s fault’, it’s his. His words. His sick and disgustingly affected by whatever he took, words.

“Will you ever forgive me?” He blurs out, catching both you and himself by surprise.

“Forgive you?” You ask confused, “I’m not even mad at you”

“You’re not?”

“No” You say with a frown, shaking your head slightly, “I’m mad at myself more than I am at you. I could’ve helped you before you became addicted, and I-”

“You know it isn’t your fault that I’m the fuck-up that I am, right?” He asks you and you glare at him.

“Don’t call yourself that” You say, “We’ve been over this, Rafe.”

“It’s true” He says with a slightly annoyed tone, “I fuck up everything, I’m just-”

“Shut up”

He falls silent, not wanting to ruin anything further.

“You’re not a fuck up” You say, annoyed that he could even think that, “Don’t let your mistakes fucking define you, Rafe. We’ve talked about this. You’ve fucked up, yes. But who hasn’t?” You pause so that the words can sink in, “Sarah has fucked up, I’ve fucked up. Your own dad has fucked up before... I didn’t break up with you because of your mistakes”

He looks at you confused.

“I’ve broken up with you because I couldn’t bear to see you kill yourself any further while everyone fucking stared and did a whole bunch of nothing” Tears swell up in your arms, “And that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve taken your mind off your drugs to just think about what you can lose with them”

You sniffle and look away, not wanting him to see you cry.

“It was my selfish way to make you wake up, want to try and get help-” You say with your voice shaking, but he interrupts you.

“Hey” He says, “It wasn’t selfish”

“I-”

“No, you’re going to hear me, now” He interrupts, “How can you say that what you did was selfish when you were trying to help me? That makes no sense! I’m not getting help yet, but if that’s what you want me to do, I’ll call my dad right fucking now and I’ll go to a clinic tomorrow”

“Rafe” You start, turning back to look at him.

“I know I’m supposed to do this for myself and not anyone else, but fuck. I’ve been dating you for years. I love you more than I’ll ever love myself. I can’t lose you. Not over something that I did”

A sob escapes your mouth and you cover it with your hand. Rafe, with that, pulls you to his chest and wraps his arms around you.

“Just please, give me another chance” He whispers into your hair, “This time, I’ll get all the help I need. I won’t ever push you away, or put anything before me and you”

You wrap your arms tightly around his torso and sniffle into his chest.

“Okay” You whisper, “But you have to promise me that you’ll get the help as soon as possible”

You look up at him, still hugging him, and he looks down at you.

“I promise”

A faint smiles is drawn over your lips and Rafe presses a kiss onto your wet cheek, pulling you back into the tight hug.

“I’ll call my dad tomorrow” He whispers.

“And I’ll be there with you” You whisper back.

- - - - - - -

I honestly almost cried while correcting this. Am I the only one?

[icequeenbae]

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 2 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.4k (Chapter 2)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist   >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: This chapter is going to be a little different! There’s angst, there’s drama, there’s smut... You will find out what I meant by ‘complicated relationships’ 🤭 Don’t forget to share your thoughts^^

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo​ @baeklightsx​ @wooya1224​ @baekklove​

Chapter 2. Get him back

The day he left you it was pouring, and in your mind, it rained ever since. Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks flew by. You did everything on autopilot, without thinking or differentiating between tasks. Everything around you was a grey mess, and you couldn’t maintain a single thought in your head, not one thought that didn’t have something to do with the breakup.

Was it even that? He just left, telling you that it was ‘for your own good’. Asking for no opinions. Frankly, you were angry with him. You would've been furious, but it was hard to tap into your irritation when it hurt so much in your chest. For the first time in your life, you realized that you were gone too far. So far, that you felt like a piece of you was missing now. The one you’d possibly never get back.

You also realized that you belonged fully to that friend circle as well — there wasn’t even anyone for you to talk to anymore, or wallow with, which made your sorry ass feel even more pathetic. Your entire world revolved around your protective boyfriend of three years, and now that he was gone it felt as unsafe as ever. Who knows, maybe it was your sixth sense alerting you as to what was to come.

It happened over a month after your last encounter with Baekhyun.

You were lounging in the campus library, mostly because your weeks of heartbreak caused you to miss a few deadlines, so now you had to take additional assignments to do well at the finals. Having no inspiration, or better yet, no one to hurry to, made you stay there for long hours, barely managing to get one task completed at a time.

The space was almost empty since it was rather late, and looking around you suddenly felt a tinge of nostalgia. Muttering that you should get ahold of your stupid self, you walked slowly towards the tall aisle with your useless book. In the labyrinth, you wandered for a bit, reminiscing of the first interaction with your… now ex? Your first boyfriend? Your first love?

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you opted for walking further as if surrounded by books you could somehow block your bubbling feelings out.

A strange sound caught your attention.

No idea why, you kept walking towards it, soon stepping around the corner and freezing on the spot.

Only a few feet away there was a couple making out. The girl was pressed harshly into the shelves and grunted, as her partner shoved one hand underneath her shirt to squeeze her breast, and his other one grasped her neck, adding to the obscenity of their misplaced passion. You were ready to flush tomato red and vanish on the spot when you noticed something… familiar.

That side profile.

You would never mistake it for anyone else’s.

Wide-eyed in shock, you almost jumped when the male turned around, dark irises foreign to you. His eyebrow raised slightly as he took in your distress with half-lidded eyes, not even bothering to stop groping the girl.

‘B- Baekhyun?’ You said in such a tiny voice that you barely even heard yourself.

The sound of your book dropping to the floor ripped you out of the stupor, and you turned around. Out of the labyrinth you ran, not even bothering to put your belongings back into your bag neatly. You simply grabbed everything from the table and kept running. The surroundings were blurry, but you could see one thing clearly – his lustful eyes, mocking your naivety.

It hurt too much. Unable to hold your tears till you make it home, you found yourself locked in the stall of the nearest bathroom. The way you cried there was almost physically painful, and you struggled to catch enough air as you did. Nor did you care enough to prevent yourself from making noises. Your whole body was shaking with your sobs, and you weren’t entirely sure you hadn’t gone crazy just then. From seeing what you saw. From reopening the still-hurting wounds and seasoning them richly with salt.

However long it took you to dehydrate yourself with the seeping sorrow, you managed to stop, hiccupping only every now and then. Finally shoving your laptop and notes into your bag, you got out of the stall. Walking up to a mirror on wobbly legs, you gasped at your puffy face and red swollen eyes. Not that you really cared, but it was quite late, so you had good chances of sneaking out and getting home unnoticed.

Unless someone would be purposefully waiting for you to show your face, of course.

You took notice of the dark figure across the hall momentarily after exiting the bathroom. Turning the other way, you increased the pace of your steps, almost breaking into running speed to put some distance between the two of you.

‘Hey,’ a voice called from behind, and you felt a hand grabbing your upper arm to stop you.

The nerve he had.

‘Don’t fucking touch me!’ You barked at him, ripping away from his grasp fiercely.

He blinked, letting go, and you almost hiccupped again at the sight of his hair – even more silvery-white now than when he left you, slightly unkempt (from the prior activities, no less). As he opened his mouth to say something, you beat him to it.

‘Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me. You make me sick!’ You spat, wanting to both claw at his beautifully sculpted face and to snivel pathetically again. Instead, you turned around and took off before he gathered himself enough to try initiating a conversation again.

Because… What the fuck was he thinking?

***

You fell ill. It probably wasn’t unrelated to what happened at the library, but you became so feverish that your roommate was on the verge of driving you to the hospital. Three days later your fever finally broke, however, you felt weak and drained and depressed for another week afterwards.

Staying at home, you kept rewinding back to the ‘event’. How could he? Coming back like that, and not even having the decency to not screw around right under your nose. You were repulsed by what you saw, and it was almost hateful how the heaviness in your chest only worsened. The bitterness of the situation added to it – he lied to you, just to be with someone else weeks, or, perhaps, even days, hours after. Maybe all of it was a lie, you didn’t know anymore.

This Baekhyun… You didn’t think you’d ever known him.

The subsequent week you avoided all of the crowded areas of the campus, dreading that you’d have to face him again. It would be impossible to maintain your calm in that case, so you took all of the possible precautions. But what could you have done if he was looking for you?

Upon your following encounter, you failed your attempt to vanish out of his sight the way you did before. It was essentially you walking into a trap, as you headed home rather late after finally squeezing your last important assignment out on paper. Not giving the outside world a single moment of attention, you stopped at the top of the stairs to put your phone into your bag and zip it up.

‘Aren’t you a mystery woman, Y/N,’ the voice almost made you drop your stuff.

You glanced up, taking notice of the murky figure, leaning onto a nearby tree. As he began walking in your direction, you turned on your heels and took off. It felt stupid to run from him like this, but you absolutely did not want to break down in front of him. You wanted to preserve at least some dignity.

As you flew down the stairs, you stumbled and almost dove headfirst to the ground. Thankfully, a swift limb wrapped around you before you could do that.

‘Are you dumb?’ He exclaimed into your ear.

‘Let go of me!’ You writhed in his hold, trying to free your body from the illusive familiarity of his touch.

‘You’re a danger to yourself! What the fuck,’ he swore under his breath, releasing you at once.

‘I told you to leave me alone. Do whatever you want, just stay out of my freaking life, Baekhyun!’ You yelled in his face, fuming from his shameless behavior. Why was he acting like nothing was even wrong with this?

‘Unbelievable. Your twin screws someone over, and you’re the one held accountable,’ he rolled his eyes.

Twin… what?

‘What are you talking about?’ You asked in bewilderment.

‘I believe, introductions are in order. I’m Baëkhyun, nice to meet you.’

***

That was… embarrassing. So embarrassing.

You had no idea there was, well, a live copy of Baekhyun walking around. And even though your ex-boyfriend was secretive, you couldn’t believe he left something like this out. Were you an actual joke to him?!

Baëkhyun said they weren’t particularly close. He explained to you that he hadn’t seen his twin in years, and his friends helped him obtain the little knowledge of his whereabouts that led him here. Thinking he could find Baekhyun by asking around he… got ‘involved’ with a girl or two. Or a dozen, who knows? But, apparently, your reaction the first time you’d met piqued his curiosity. When you flushed at the memory, apologizing profusely, he only said that he found it odd and strangely cute, the way you got upset with him.

‘I’m not as great of a guy as Baekhyun,’ he shrugged. ‘Not that I’m trying to be, anyways.’

You frowned.

After the way he left you, Baekhyun was not at the top of your ‘greatest people of all times’ list either. You could understand why your new acquaintance mentioned this, you had witnessed enough to gather that he was not at all well-behaved. Also, his ways of extracting information… Not very professional, to say the least. But who were you to judge? Now that you’d learned that he wasn’t your ex, you were genuinely ashamed of the hysteria of the past couple of weeks.

But Baëkhyun was different.

When he got your number and promised to text, you didn’t think much of it. You hummed and rolled your eyes – as if that was going to happen. Yet he surprised you by sending a quick message the following week. And then… you just kept talking. Which went on for a while, whilst you’d grown slightly addicted to it. Somehow, Baëkhyun became the only person who could take your mind off of his twin. So, even when you finally went on the long-awaited summer break, you stayed in touch with him. And not only via text – you’d been seeing each other on a regular basis.

Randomly at first – you’d just bump into him somewhere around the university premises, and he’d then suggest grabbing coffee. But as it progressed, you ended up inviting him over for dinner. Partially because you felt acutely lonely with your roommate gone, and partially because… you missed him. It was hard to put a finger on it – you’d initially thought that it was just misplaced longing for Baekhyun that pushed you towards his twin, and it felt so wrong. Almost like you wanted to use him to soothe the ache in your heart that had been bothering you ever since your ex-boyfriend had left.

Yet Baëkhyun seemed so magnetic. He hypnotized you with his blue eyes, which changed from the icy light color to dark, almost black, and were just as sharp as his twin’s. And his sassy smirk – the one he had plastered across his face almost always. Baëkhyun wasn’t warm like Baekhyun, yet there was still something about him that had you walking willingly into his trap. Maybe it was the mysterious glint in his eyes as he looked down at you or the way he sized you up whenever he caught a glimpse of you, like you were his prey. Being alone with him felt both dangerous and exciting, and you kept fooling yourself, basing your blind trust on nothing but his relation to your ex.

You never noticed how quickly he managed to build trust between you. And how you didn’t even know much about him, yet you did tell him a lot. Like that one time, he asked you where you thought Baekhyun was.

‘Wouldn’t I like to know,’ you chuckled, sadness in your voice. ‘He just left. I don’t think he even kept his phone.’

‘I always said he was the dumb one of the two. And to think that he’s the strategist,’ he snorted, splayed on your couch comfortably.

You looked at your hands in your lap, subconsciously calming yourself by playing with your fingers.

‘Stop,’ you shivered as his palm covered your fidgety hands. ‘Stop thinking about him.’

Eyes traveling to his face, you caught a glimpse of the frown that formed there.

And then he kissed you. Out of the blue, giving you no time to think or pull away.

And you let him. Grabbing at the soft leather of his pants, you allowed him to do as he pleased with you. Baëkhyun tasted familiar, though his kissing was anything but – rough and messy, lots of tongue and teeth, making your head spin with flaming passion. You didn’t resist when he pulled you into his lap, or when he ripped your clothes off, item by item. He was not asking and you were not thinking. It didn’t feel like something you should stop at the time. Rather, you thought you would’ve cried had he paused for longer than a second, so you kept clinging to him in response.

The demanding grip he had on your thighs only made you crave it more, lust seeping into your system as you wrapped your arms around his neck and rolled your hips into his. He emitted a deep sound, helping you grind on him.

‘Good girl,’ he gritted into your lips, landing a slap or two on your ass along the way.

As you kept going, your bare breasts grazed his skin, and your panties became soaked and sticky. You were probably flushed rosy red as you chased the tight feeling in your lower abdomen, his eyes hungrily taking in your frenzy. He slapped you again, a sharp hit resonating through you like electricity.

‘Baëk,’ you half-moaned. ‘Please fuck me-’

You couldn’t even believe that you were begging him like that, out loud. But the desperation grew as your body threw itself at him, demanding release.

He moved your panties out of the way, fingers instantly getting wet with your arousal.

‘Such a needy little slut,’ he murmured, making you shiver.

It was all new. The name-calling, the manhandling, the way he bit harshly into your lower lip and tugged at your hair. And somehow, it was exactly what you needed.

He didn’t waste much time to prep you, opting for taking his already hard length out and running the tip between your folds, making you jolt and cry out, nails digging into the back of his neck.

‘Sink on my cock and take what you want. Like a bad girl would.’ He addressed in a low voice, smearing the remainder of your lipstick over your mouth with his thumb. ‘Wanna be a whore for me?’

‘Yes,’ you muttered, and he smacked you on the ass again, emphasizing that you needed to be louder. ‘Yes!’

He let go of your hips, hands resting on your legs, allowing you to slam down on your own. You whimpered at the slight burn but kept going. Moving this fast wasn’t the way you were used to doing it, but all the more exciting for that. Using his shoulders to steady yourself, you worked your hips hard. A sheen of sweat on your chest glimmered as you increased the pace, wailing as his tip nudged at your cervix. He watched you with his dark blue eyes, hands kneading your ass, and filthy mouth guiding you.

‘Squeeze your tight little hole.’

Meanwhile, you struggled to maintain the tiresome pace, yet held onto the sensation of his girth pressing against your walls as he glided in and out of you.

‘Ah fuck, Baëkhyun!’ You moaned, feeling the tickle of perspiration making its way down your abs.

‘I know you’re close.’ He licked his lips seductively. ‘Want me to help?’

‘Yes, yes, please,’ you keened, leg almost cramping from the uncomfortable position.

‘Leave your begging for another time, baby. Like I said, if you want something, you should take it.’

You whined, head spinning at the suggestion. His eyes, expectant, traced the stubborn crease between your brows while you kept rocking your hips. Then, you did the first thing that came to your blurry mind. Your hands reached up to grasp his hair and pull hard, tilting his head back and leaving the long column of his neck exposed for the attack of your lips. Sucking a bruise on it harshly, you then used your teeth to ensure he’d have a bright mark in a few hours. Creeping up his neck and his jaw, you licked at his lower lip, and then into his mouth – like an animal would.

‘Oh,’ he smirked, hands seizing you and holding you down, with him snug inside you. ‘So, my good girl is not as innocent as she seemed?’ He teased, the lustful glint in his eyes boosting your confidence to the level of insolence.

‘Shut up,’ you replied firmly, sliding off of him and flopping backwards to finally get some circulation in your legs. ‘Stop slacking off and make me come, you asshole.’

His eyes flashed at your brazen words. Shoving you roughly until you were flat on your back, he grabbed onto your thighs, dragging you closer to him. Instantly you cried out as he landed two consecutive slaps on your pussy, holding his heavy hard-on at the base. Pleased with your reaction, he did it again, not saying another word before he bottomed out inside you. A new wave of arousal washed over you, and you clenched around him, eyes fluttering shut. He didn’t even think to spare you the morning soreness as he nailed you like an actual whore.

‘Ah right there, right there- oh fuck, Baëkhyun,’ you sobbed, clawing at his flexed arm, when he placed one of your legs over his shoulder and leaned forward, basically stretching you open for himself.

This position made you feel vulnerable, like you had no choice but to take everything he was giving you, but it was what you needed. His every thrust resonated inside, making your muscles clench, and ripping more curses and moans out of you. Even though his pace was rather brutal, there wasn’t too much pain along with it – Baëkhyun knew all the right spots.

Mouth agape, you arched your back in silent agony, and a few more hits of his thighs later came so hard that it almost made you pass out on the spot. The hand over your mouth muffled your scream, and he let your leg slide off of his shoulder, pressing his palm against it to keep you in place and prevent you from closing your knees.

Muscles contracting uncontrollably, you whimpered at his continued thrusts as you became too sensitive from the drawn-out pleasure, tears soaking your lashes by the time he finally pulled out.

Baëkhyun grunted lowly, and you opened your eyes to witness him jerk himself off at the sight of your swollen, fucked out pussy, not even blinking until thick ropes of his semen painted your lower belly.

Despite having just performed a thorough fucking, he lowered himself on his elbow slowly and brushed the rogue strands of hair away out of your eyes.

‘You’re a naughty one. I love it,’ he murmured, positioning one of his hands on your neck as he kissed you deeply. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to be in control.’

And so, you let yourself fall down the rabbit hole. And there was no telling what you’d gotten yourself into.

>> Chapter 3

A/N: Whooo, Baёk is here, stirring some kind of trouble, isn’t he? 🤭 Our poor Y/N-ie is walking on thin ice. What do you think of their relationship? Feels a little bit like cheating, right? Technically it isn’t. But still, the darkness is always pretty seductive...

[sunnypogue]

coho!rafe takes care of his sick girlfriend

some coho!rafe for you kind humans.

sometimes you gotta write some sappy, self indulgent shit.

aka this is what i need when i’m sick bc i am the most pathetic person ever when sick.

enjoy xoxo

--

You knew it when you woke up.

Seven hours earlier, when you were collapsing into bed after a full day of class and work, you had felt fine. Tired, maybe, but overall, you were good, lucid enough to wash your face and brush your teeth before spooning your boyfriend, already dead to the world.

Now, you were awake in an empty bed, head too heavy to move, wondering how the fuck you were going to get through three classes and a four-hour work shift without passing out.

You swallowed – and then immediately groaned, your dry, sore throat lighting up with a quick flash of pain.

Yeah. There was no way today was going to be anything less than horrible.

You willed yourself to a seated position, head spinning at the sudden pressure change. Your hands flew to your head, audibly moaning as you felt your brain throb, your eyebrows knit together in result of the pain.

The doorhandle rattled. You kept your head pressed into your hands, not ready to deal with whatever was on the other side.

“Baby?” Rafe’s voice entered the room first, the sound of the door hitting the wall exploding in your ears. “You’ve got class in 30.”

You groaned. “I know, I’m coming, just give me a second.”

Eyes still shut, you jumped when you felt the mattress sink next to you, shivered when Rafe’s hand pressed firmly against your forehead.

“Nope.”

Your eyes flew open. “What do you mean, nope?” You moved to swing your legs off the bed. “I’m fine, just tired.”

Rafe stood, planting his hands on your shoulders, keeping your weak body seated on the bed. “I meant no, you’re not going anywhere today. You’re burning up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Rafe, that’s really not an option. I’ve got three classes today, one of which is on literature theory, and I really can’t miss it, so if you could please move, that would be great.”

You gave a feeble attempt at moving his hand. He didn’t budge.

You tried again. “Rafe, I’ve got work tonight, and you know how hard it is to find last minute coverage for basketball games so it’s fine, I’ll push through it today and use tomorrow to rest.”

Rafe ignored you, reaching for your laptop instead. “I’ll email your professors and boss. Just go back to sleep.”

You squawked, reaching for your laptop. “Rafe!”

He glared at you. “Don’t fight with me. You’re sick, you’re staying home.” He rolled his eyes at your tired pout. “Now, I’m going to email whoever you’re indebted to or whatever, and then I’m gonna run to the grocery store. You’re gonna sleep. Got it?”

You sunk back into the bed, sheets pulled up over your chest. “Got it.” You offered, voice meek.

Rafe turned to leave, laptop in hand, when you squeaked out, “Rafe?”

He paused. “Yeah, baby?”

“Can you bring me some water?”

He offered you a smile. “Sure. Now go to sleep.”

When he returned, water in hand, you were passed out, completely burrowed in the duvet, lights still on.

He set the glass on a coaster, dropped a quick kiss to your warm forehead, and flicked the light off.

-

Hours later, you woke up with a start, mouth dry, eyes bleary. Somehow, you felt even worse than before. Your throat was screaming for water, your entire body was aching, and the pressure behind your eyes had become even worse. Confused and upset, you felt tears welling up in your eyes, frustrated that your nap hadn’t solved all your problems.

Rafe came in as you were wiggling to a seated position, hands reaching out for the water on your nightstand.

“Afternoon.” He smiled. “How you feeling?”

You just looked at him, eyes wet and cheeks red.

His face fell, moving to sit by your side. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Planting your face in his neck, you sobbed, delusional from the fever and still so fucking tired, despite your five hour nap. You curled yourself into his side and let him rub your hot back, not caring that his hands felt like ice, sniffling and choking into his shirt sleeve.

Rafe tugged you into his lap when you started to calm down, your breathing less ragged and your sobs less violent. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head, not removing it from his neck. “Just hate feeling like this.”

Rafe nodded, hand moving to cup the back of your head as you continued sniffling. He knew how much you hated being sick and the setbacks it brought with it. He knew you hated the idea of being behind in classes, or letting your boss down, or simply feeling useless – which is why you pushed yourself to the point of near incapacitation, your body completely shutting down after months of constant work.

“I know.” He offered, voice low. “You gotta take care of yourself though, you know? Happens to everyone.”

You just choked on a sob.

Rafe maneuvered you around, seating you so your back was pressed against his chest. “Look,” He gestured towards the dresser. “Brought you some stuff. Doctor said you can take Advil to help with the fever and throat pain. Also said you were probably dehydrated, so you should drink some stuff with electrolytes.” He glanced down at you, registering your glazed gaze. “You should drink some of that now, actually. I don’t think you’ve had anything in your body since dinner.”

You shrugged, visibly exhausted. “You called my doctor?”

Rafe blushed. “I called your mom, who called your doctor. She just relayed the information back to me – and told me to tell you to call her when you’re feeling up to it.”

You nodded. “Okay. Maybe later. I’m tired.”

“I know you are.”

Rafe moved from behind you, helping you lean back onto your propped-up pillows. Grabbing the Advil and the Gatorade, he cracked both bottles, tapping the pills out into his hand before handing you the bottle.

“You can take three more in four hours.” He reminded, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face as you took the medicine. “Should help with the fever.”

You grimaced, pills feeling like bowling balls as they moved down your throat. “Thanks.” You rasped out.

He smiled, face soft as he looked down at you. “Of course, baby. Need anything else?”

You shook your head, nestling back into the bed, eyes fluttering from exhaustion. “No. Gon’ sleep.”

You were barely hanging onto consciousness when he pulled your duvet cover up to your chin, the pad of his thumb running over the heated, soft skin under your eye.

He leaned down to press a kiss into your hair, murmuring,

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[multiplefandomsblog]

Gundham, Kazuichi, and Mikan with an Ultimate veterinarian S/O

warnings; light cussing, unedited, inaccurate depictons of what vets do, gender neutral pronouns for reader, gn!reader

Request; Hi there! Can I request gundham, kazuichi, and mikan with an Ultimate veterinarian S/O? Maybe they have wild animals by their side all the time :) thanks!

Gundham

◊ Gundham would trust you 100%

◊ He relies on you a bunch.

◊ Knowing that you are a veterinarian who loves animals, is all he needed to know to trust his life and the dark devas life with you.

◊ Gundham is pretty protective and careful with his devas, so if anytime the devas showed signs of a small sickness, he’d immediately go to you.

◊ He’d be so concerned for his devas so he would always go to you to see what’s wrong.

◊ Most of the time, the devas are fine and Gundham was just being a worried dad.

◊ But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a biiiiiiit happy every time he rushed into your clinic with a worried expression on his face.

◊ You assure him that his devas look fine, but he still insists you check them thoroughly.

◊ As usual, they are fine and he looks relieved.

◊ Though actually, one time he had faked his worry for the devas so he could have an excuse to see you.

◊ He was planning to ask you out while you examined his loyal companions.

◊ “So erm, how are my dark devas doing? Perfectly, I assume.” He spoke in his low tone of voice. “Well, Maga-G, Sun-D and Jum-P are doing fine. Except for Cham-P, he may be a tad dehydrated. If you monitor him carefully and make sure he drinks water, he’ll be good.” Gundham nodded with a nervous but confident grin, words not quite hitting his ears yet, “Indeed, so would you like to- Wait WHAT-?” Gundham paled, registering your words a bit too slow and freaking out.

◊ “Cham-P iS DYING?? WHAT WILL I- Oh goD-” Gundham hyperventilates, grabbing your hands unconsciously and squeezing them so tight it slightly hurt. 

◊ “Please, S/o, save his life!!”

◊ You looked at him with surprise, face heating up at the sudden touch.

◊ ”G-gundham, Cham-P isn’t dying, he just needs to drink more water.” You cut off.

◊ Gundham suddenly froze, face heating up from the realization of his hands in yours.

◊ “O-oh, I see my mistake.” You laughed at his reaction, relishing in the feeling of his hands still resting in yours.

◊ “So what did you want to ask me earlier?” Gundham’s eyes widened, “Oh uh- I was just wondering if... Yo-you’d help me nurse Cham-P back to health?” He chickened out at the last minute, mentally scolding himself for losing his confidence.

◊ Though you knew that wasn’t what he meant to say since you had told him about Cham-P after he had tried to ask you something, you still accepted happily.

◊ Your animals and his dark devas had a few debates as you and Gundham helped Cham-P drink from the water nozzle thingy.

◊ “Water is not wet.” Maga-G scoffed, examining his nails. “Okay but, water makes things wet, so how is it not wet?” Your bird argued, looking at Maga-G with disbelief. “I have to pee.” Jum-P blurted out, hopping back inside the cage to do his business. “Can I come!?” San-D followed suit, hopping into the cage as well.

◊ “What do you think they’re talking about?” You questioned, looking at the animals argue.

◊ “Obviously, they are discussing their plan to destroy the world. My dark devas have the intelligence of a god!” Gundham boasted, staring at the dark devas with pride.

◊ “-No, you’re wrong, I’m right, shut up.” Maga-G ended the argument unfairly, stomping his foot down(if you get the reference, ily).

Kazuichi

◊ Kazuichi would be scared when he first saw you walk by with your army of animals following you.

◊ “I-is that a tiger!?”

◊ He’d be kind of intimidated by you at first, not wanting to get on your bad side and have your animals maul him.

◊ Other than your army of animals catching his eye, he thought you were pretty cute.

◊ Though he was itching to ask you out, he was too scared to go within 5 meters distance near you.

◊ He’d kind of just, scream cheesy pick-up lines to you.

◊ “HEY S/O! ARE Y-” “What!?” “ARE YOU-” “Can you come closer!? I can’t hear you!” “HAHAHA, N-NEVERMIND IT’S NOTHING!”

◊ Eventually, Kazuichi warmed up to your animals(it’s kind of the opposite really-).

◊ Funny story how actually, Kazuichi was working on the underbelly of his machines, and he needed his wrench. Assuming Fuyuhiko was still there—Which he wasn’t—, he asked for a wrench.

◊ (un)Luckily for him, one of your dogs had been there, and it had picked up the wrench and brought it to Kazuichi’s outstretched hand. 

◊ “Thanks, Fuyu.” He accepted the wrench, expecting a grunt of ‘You’re welcome.’

◊ He, however, did not expect a very loud, “BORK!” in return.

◊ He screeched, wincing as he jolted up and hit his forehead on the hard metal underneath his machine.

◊ Not long after the bark echoed through the area, you had come running, your forehead creased from worry.

◊ “Oh, there you are!” You huffed out in relief as your eyes caught sight of the familiar coloured fur.

◊ You looked down at Kazuichi’s bottom half sticking out underneath from a machine, hearing a groan coming from him.

◊ “Kazuichi?” You squealed when you heard a- “S-s/o!?” come from underneath the machine, A “BANG!” following after.

◊ “Ow- U-uh hey S/o..!” He greeted waving his hand awkwardly from underneath the metal. 

◊ “Uh, A-are you going to come out?” You asked, concerned for—what sounded like—his head injury.

◊ “U-um nope. It’s uh, it’s cozy underneath here.” He refused politely, not wanting you to see his red face. 

◊ Literally red(or pink??) face; Blood had been running down his fucking forehead from the two hard bonks against the metal.

◊ The dog could smell the bullshit(and the blood) emitting from Kazuichi’s words, and bit gently onto his sneaker, urging out a scream from the pinkette.

◊ It pulled him out from underneath the machine, revealing his bloody forehead.

◊ You gasped in shock as you hurried him up to his feet, hastily bringing him to your clinic.

◊ He blushed at your close proximity, letting you drag him to a waiting seat.

◊ He watched warily as your animals ran into the backroom of your clinic, bringing you medical supplies as you carefully examined his forehead. 

◊ The animals watched you two as you disinfected his forehead, making Kazuichi nervous from the many tiny animal eyes glaring into him.

◊ He tensed as he felt a ferret climb his shoulder, clenching his eyes shut. 

◊ The ferret kissed him on his forehead, leaving you and him speechless.

◊ Well shit, the ferret had more confidence than you.

Mikan

◊ Mikan thought your ultimate was pretty cool!

◊ Since you were both in the medical field, you two had many things to talk about, therefore getting along unsurprisingly well.

◊ At first, she was a bit scared of your big animals, your small ones not so much.

◊ All your animals seemed to really really like her, and they’d be pretty protective of her.

◊ If Teruteru had said something perverted to her, one of your bears would maul him. 

◊ Everyone cheered as the bear kept on swinging TeruTeru’s arm in its jaw.

◊ That one time Hajime made Mikan cry, one of your lizards had slipped off Mikan and bit his finger.

◊ “Not cool, Hajim-“ Nagito started, before glancing down on his bloody finger, “Oh shit, are you okay??” 

◊ There’s always at least one of your animals stuck onto her just in case she gets picked on by Hiyoko or TeruTeru.

◊ They always have her back!

◊ If Hiyoko insulted Mikan for no good reason, the monkeys would pull her pigtails whilst the cats quickly ran to her dorm to shit inside it.

◊ Hiyoko stopped messing around with Mikan after that.

◊ Those times she trips and falls in very inconvenient positions, the animals cover her or scare everyone else away until you or someone trusted comes and helps.

◊ As the animals always have her back, she always has theirs.

◊ If someone tried to attack one of your animals, she’ll cover the animals and take the hit for them.

◊ Though before anyone could get hurt, your tiger had already pounced on the assaulter, tearing off their pants and watching as they ran away from the humiliation.

◊ If you’re busy healing one of the animals and can’t take care of the rest at the moment, Mikan will be your number #2 and she’ll help in any way she can!

◊ She remembers each animal’s feeding time to heart, never forgetting to feed them or give them water.

◊ She cherishes the animals almost as much as she cherishes you.

◊ She adores how kind you are to the animals and her, falling in love with your sweet personality.

◊ Mikan kind of becomes your wife and the animals being your shared children together.

◊ It’s really cute when you see the animals cuddle up to her while she pets them, it just makes you want to get on one knee.

◊ You are indefinitely thankful for her care, you’re sure you love her.

◊ Sooner or later, you two finally get together.

◊ All thanks to your animals actually, they did that classic nudge where you two kissed on accident.

◊ After you two get into a relationship, expect lots of cuddles.

◊ Correction, expect lots of cuddles with the animals.

◊ They regularly interrupt your quiet time with her by climbing in between and around the two of you, creating a safe and warm barrier. 

◊ As you’re always caring for your many animals, you sometimes forget to take care of yourself, so she’d also make sure you were okay too.

◊ Since she was the ultimate nurse, she knew humans better and so she knew when you weren’t taking care of yourself.

◊ She would get concerned for you as you overworked yourself, therefore reminding you to take care of yourself-

◊ Before immediately apologizing for her worries, afraid you thought she was clingy. 

◊ After assuring her you could never think that she was clingy, you promised her you’d take care of yourself, kissing her worried tears away.

◊ You’d do anything for Mikan, and she would do the same.

note; sorry if it’s a bit rushed!! i hope you enjoy anyways though, tysm for reading!

[many-but-one]

Ugggggggh. Sorry about the COVID. Good luck + feel better soon. (Rest is apparently really important if you can manage it)

Yeah, I figured that out lol. Hadn’t been able to manage much rest due to the pain in my chest and inability to breathe, which is what kind of tipped me off that I needed to go to the ER. I haven’t posted an update on that, but I did get released in the wee hours of the morning. They got me some good meds to help my airways and helped me get some fluids in which was dope because I was also hella dehydrated due to being too exhausted to even drink water🥲

Doing wayyy better today, able to breathe and sit normally now and actually walk around without feeling like I’m gonna faint😂 When I say it out loud that sounds so bad. What the doctors were most worried about was my stupidly high heart rate that they could only barely get below 100 (which is not my normal when laying down, fyi😂 Usually I’m in the 60-70 range) and when walking it would still spike up to a 115ish. Which, when I walked in my resting was 115 and my standing/walking was jumping to 155 and even higher (170-180😬) depending on if I was walking up or down stairs. I have a family history of heart issues (and a fuck ton of trauma which can also seriously effect your heart, shocker) so they were paying attention to that. However I was stable enough to GTFO and I did cause I already know this bill is about to be absolutely bonkers and I really don’t even want to think about it tbh😂😩 Yes I do have insurance but that often doesn’t do as much good as one would think. (Non-American readers, for reference, my less than 48 hr stay in a mental ward last September cost over $8,000 before insurance and was a fun $1,500 after insurance.) Whether the amount is before or after insurance, it’s still way too much for us to afford currently. Sigh. Healthcare sucks ass for so many reasons. I don’t fucking trust hospitals or doctors and I know you have similar feelings about them, so I know you get it.

Overall my experience was fine and the nurses and doctors were kind, but I definitely didn’t want to be there, it was simply a necessity. However, doing that could have potentially saved my life because they did say with my underlying conditions and the unpredictability of COVID it could have gone downhill really fast, so it’s still good that I came in for the preventative work to keep it from progressing further. Considering it was only my second day of the sickness, it was obviously concerning that I was doing so poorly so soon. Also just gonna put it on the record that We as a collective fucking HATE CT scans and the last time we had one I have no memory of it which is probably for a good reason but DAMN that shit triggered us hella bad. We got locked up and freaked internally but knew that an external freak out would probably not be super duper so we just kept all that inside. Dissociation babey😎

Thanks for the message, though! Always nice to hear from ya! We’re doing much better and are definitely on the mend. The sucky part is wondering if these effects will last a long time or be permanent or pop up later. My left atrium was already looking sketchy according to the EKG but they didn’t really address it with me and didn’t seem worried about it so🤷🏻 I’m just not gonna think about it til the problem comes cause why worry about something I can’t control like fuckinnn heart failure. If I die, I die, I guess. 😂😂 No I’m not suicidal, I just have a pretty cynical view of life. I’m trying to be better about that. I was joking though, that I was going to be pissed that I was finally having happiness and planning my future for the first time in my life not to mention had gone through unimaginable shit as a child just to get taken out by a fuckin VIRUS?! Fuck that shit, I’m living outta spite now.

Gonna shut the fuck up now cause my Rona brain fog is clearly getting to me LOL.

-Jules & Co.

[whump-town]

Lie to Me

Guess who's back on their shit?

Another cancer fic for you because there's something very weird about me that stays drawn to the idea of secretly being sick

Anyways

Warnings: well... cancer

Pairings: none? yet.

Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner has a certain reputation around the office. The BAU’s ghost, walking around in his leather dress shoes and fancy suits without so much as a groan from the old, torn tile beneath his feet or the muffled swish of the material of his slacks. You never know he’s there until he wants you to and by then it’s always too late. By luck of his poor hearing or his natural affinity for silence, nothing admitted in his silent presence ever graces his lips for a repeat. The secrets all die with him. He’s as loyal as a dog -- in ways that lead to natural gravitation. The reason why Penelope Garcia beams at him every time their paths cross, why she so eagerly rushes to match his pace. To just walk beside him and talk his ear off even though she knows her answers will come in the form of soft hums and furrowed brows. In other ways, it’s killed him. Left him to live the life of a lame dog, dragging his dying body away from them. Hoping to spare them the agony of his death.

Some things that people say about SSA Hotchner are true. He really does move like a ghost and it’s a thing of great mystery and annoyance. It’s cost Emily Prentiss numerous mugs but perhaps the flash of his smug crooked grin makes that worth the shattered cup at their feet (she wouldn’t agree with that statement). He’s made Derek Morgan nearly jump out of his skin, whirling around to attack whatever snuck up on him only to find Hotch frowning back at him. If asked, David Rossi will blame Hotch for 79% of the grey hairs on his head because he hadn’t even begun to go grey until he met Hotch.

He’s really not as scary as people make him out to be.

Penelope Garcia wishes everyone knew that. She wishes cadets looked at Hotch the way that they look at Derek and Spencer. As awe-inspiring giants, they crane their necks to look up to. Instead, they lower their eyes away from him. Whispering to one another about the rumors and the things that they have been told. They regard him as a lesson -- someone to measure their existence against. To know when to get out of the job. To know when they can no longer turn back.

He’d saved her when it seemed no one else in the world really looked at her. She’d watched him take her homemade pink stationary in his hands, held it delicately as he looked over what menial ideas she could think of. He’d looked at her kindly, not at all like the snobby FBI brat she assumed him to be, and shaken her hand, “Thank you, Miss Garcia.” For the months following her career change, he’d been too kind. Brought her lunch to her desk because she was too anxious to leave her office. Gave her advice about where to park and how to miss Strauss in the hallways.

As important as his approval is to her, his well-being is more important. So, no, she doesn’t turn away when she sees him on Saturday in the emergency room. He’s sleeping off a cocktail they’d given him, turns out it’s rather hard to place a catheter near the heart when it’s beating erratically. His anxiety had nearly caused him to be sick and so he’d agreed, finally, to let them give him something to calm him down. Which is where Garcia finds him, left arm cradled to his chest, too long limbs hanging off the stretcher, and breathing slow and steady through the oxygen canal under his nose. A precaution, that’s all, given the sedatives they’d doped him up with.

“Sir?”

The fingers in his left-hand twitch, flexing towards his palm and he grunts softly at the pain that the movement causes. Slowly, breathing hitching and his eyes fluttering open, he wakes up. He’d heard, vacantly, the hesitant “sir” from the end of the bed but he assumed it was a nurse. As his eyes rise up to search the room he’s surprised, entirely so that he thinks he’s hallucinating, to find Penelope.

“Are you okay?”

He’s still piecing together the last few hours but nods. Cracking open his dry lips he swallows thickly, trying to work his voice around the tightness in his throat. Dehydrated and still disoriented he reaches for the cup of water left for him but at the current angle that he’s laying at, he can’t get it. He clears his throat, sniffling, “can you, ugh--” He’s still looking at the cup, dazed to the point he can’t think of the words he means to say. Tired eyes look back at her, pleading silently that she understands.

Penelope nods, moving forward instinctively. She doesn’t look at him, at his dark blood dried to his arm. His hospital gown stopping just at the clear protective barrier between her and the port placed on the inside of his arm. “Here,” she whispers. She needs to be closer so he doesn’t have to stretch but can’t bring herself to be close. Not within his reach. Not so close that she can see the dark rings of sleepless nights carved under his eyes. Far enough away that the tremble in his hand is easily overlooked. So that he doesn’t seem as weak and frail as his voice sounds.

He sips the water, knows from too many mistakes not to drink too much just yet. “Why are you here?” He nearly sounds like himself, dark brows furrowed and voice taken its steady, deep rhythm back.

She looks over her shoulder, past the curtain pulled around them for the sake of privacy. “I, uhm, volunteer for a support group that meets every Saturday here at the hospital.” She points to the front desk, to a woman with curly hair pulled back in two ponytails. “I came downstairs to say hi to Mac and I saw you and I just…” Suddenly, realizes how she shouldn’t be here. That if he wanted comfort he’d have told them, or someone.

Wait. Stop.

That doesn’t matter. Hotch doesn’t know what’s good for him. Everyone knows that. So she made the right decision to come over here.

“You’re not driving yourself home, right?”

In her silent contemplation, he’d began to fall asleep again. The cup in his hand dangerously tipped and eyes held open by slow, deepening blinks.

“Hotch?” She touches his hand, flinching away at just how cold his skin is.

He cracks his eyes back open, cracks of soft brown iris finding her slowly. He hums, mouth cracked open.

“Will you let me take you home?”

Home. He hums again, vaguely aware of her warm hand coming to rest over his. Moving his stiff fingers away from the cup, taking it from him so he doesn’t spill it over himself.

It’s meticulous work, keeping him awake. Even harder making sure he gets dressed but once he’s sitting up he’s much more alert, grumpy now for being duped into asking her for help. She’d offered it but that means nothing to him. He’s no less thrilled to find his brain too foggy and arm too weak to work his arm through his sweater. She still smiles when his head pops through, hair a crazy mess on his head.

She packs him carefully into her car, a boxy little thing he’d frowned at when she bought it. He’d been the reason behind Morgan and Reid both coming to her office with statistics and fear about the safety of it but she’d loved it. He’s a worrier, prone to stewing and her car had taken up a lot of his energy for the first year she owned it. Now he’s being packed into the green monstrosity, senses assaulted by incense. Everything’s sparkly and he ends up sitting with a teddy bear in his lap, a troll in his hand. He’d taken their rightful place as her passenger.

His legs do not fit no matter how far back he moves his seat back and Penelope feels awful that he looks so uncomfortable but also finds it to be humorous. His knees to his ears, dark scary Agent Hotchner holding a stuffed bear to his chest, head resting against the window. It’s sweet.

It’s fairly easy to figure what his thought process today when she pulls up to his house and no one’s home. Jack’s camping, she learns. He’s dozed off again, prone and more willing to whisper half-truths. Will be away for the whole weekend until Tuesday morning. Jessica is getting her nails and hair done, he’d made the appointment just to make sure she really did it. The haircut should have ended just in time that he could call her and ask if she’d pick him up from the hospital. Where he thought he would have already artfully hidden the PICC line under his sweater and played the affair off as a routine sort of deal. A check-up.

“Sir…” she’s standing now, awkwardly, in his living room. The curtains are drawn back the way he likes, closing off the sun. He’s tucked under his heating blanket, trying to remain awake for the sake of the fact that it’s rude to fall asleep while entertaining guests. Yet, failing miserably. “Sir, I was just wondering… Is everything okay?”

“I’m--” the truth nearly slips right out. He clears his throat, managing to sit up just enough to catch her eyes. “Don’t worry about me, Garcia. Jessica will be around in an hour.” He holds his left hand closed, trying to stop his cramped fingers from twitching. “Dave and Emily are coming by for dinner. I’ll be okay.”

It’s completely unethical.

It’s so unprofessional.

But she can’t help herself.

Her eyes prick with tears when Emily shakes her head in the kitchenette, the sound of Hotch’s wet coughs breaking through his closed office door. “He needs to get that checked out,” she sighs, hiding her bleeding worry with annoyance. “Sounds awful.” And Penelope stands there with Hotch’s secret tongue-tied.

He’s getting worse and fast.

She gets a call from Derek, seething anger laced into his words. “He fucking-- He fucking just-- .” She knows it’s really just fear. Can hear him walking, his rapid pacing as he tries to outwalk his expanse of emotions. “He -- He shouldn’t be in the field. I mean, it’s like he didn’t even see it coming. He was just…” She remains steady. Wipes the tears that slip past her eyelashes with the back of her hand. Derek cries, on the ground with his knees to his chest, and he tells her what happened. How Hotch was paying attention to him and if he hadn’t been then maybe…

She greets them at the elevator, feels her smile attempt to waver when Hotch’s tired eyes raise from the ground. The bruise along his cheek a deep agonizing yellow, the wound on his temple still weeping angrily through the bandage. He can’t fly until his concussion is healed, longer if his tinnitus doesn’t get better. “It’ll be fun having you home,” she assures him, giving his fingers an extra squeeze.

Luck, it seems, has never seemed to favor Aaron Hotchner’s particular brand of bold.

Working at the District Attorney’s had been a morally fulfilling job. In theory, he could rest assured, each night, that he was doing what he could to help people. He was putting the real bad guys behind the bars. Even as his dreams filled with the images of the victims who had to wait for months, and even years, to get their proper justice. In reality, he slept poorly and rarely. Unable to properly maintain his workload without impossibly long hours. With time he found his work to be unfulfilling. He was doing nothing to stop crime from happening and sinking further into the realization that was failing more people than he could ever begin to help.

In court, he was ruthless. Haley didn’t like the man he became in the courtroom. Ruthless and harsh, he appeared evil and terrifying with his hawk-like eyes and infallible ability to pinpoint weaknesses in his opposers. Around the office, they nicknamed his alter-ego “Hot-head Hotchner” because the Aaron that gets flushed ordering lunch couldn’t possibly be the same man who made a man wet himself on the stand. Haley couldn’t agree more.

Hot-head Hotchner got him offered a job in corporate law, several firms were throwing big numbers at him to encourage that lasered focus to be on their side. Lest they find themselves opposing it. Morally, he could never go into corporate law but the offer to spend hours bending law into something pliable and poking holes in judicial wordings was compelling. It would be complex, rewarding work with a big pay-out. Better than the shitty salary he made at the D.A.’s office. Before he could make the compromise he met David Rossi and he never got his chance to bend the law to his will, he held his moral ground and instead changed career paths.

It was bold leaving what he knew he was good at for something new entirely.

A costly decision.

He never got to fulfill his secret desire to mold the law but bending the truth wasn’t a far cry from the same thing. Lying has never been something he felt comfortable with and that had no exceptions. He hadn’t wanted to tell the team Emily had died but that had far less to do with his morals and so much more to do with a picture much bigger than himself. The hell he knew that would rain down upon them in the weeks to come. The inability of the team to cope. Intuitively something holding them back and what they could only assume was a stage of grief.

To Emily Prentiss, he has never lied. Stretched versions of the truth he maintains to not be the same thing as a lie. If they count then his answer would be different but the eye of the beholder adds context. And as the holder of this context, he resolutes the power to declare them very different.

“New girlfriend?”

He’s breathing through a bought of nausea attempting to take him off his feet. The cold countertop biting into the skin of his wrist, his palm pressed flat to the surface so that he doesn’t grip the edge. So that his pale bloodless knuckles holding onto dear life do not betray the severity of which he fears he might get sick or pass out.

His phone is on the counter, turned upside down so that he doesn’t have to see the screen light up with every new text that comes through. The high-pitched “ding” of each new message is lost to the tinnitus he’s been succumbing to now for the better part of the week. No amount of coffee or Tylenol has helped.

Raising his gaze makes the pounding in his head worse but he has to meet Emily’s questioning gaze. They’ve started to notice his “off” behavior. His inability to stand for long amounts of time without physical drain. His decision to stay home on the last several cases, working here with Garcia rather than joining them in the field. The way he relies on Morgan’s lead more than he used to, falling silent and allowing the other man to make decisions. He suspects they just assume he’s looking into retiring or that he’s struggling to kick his “chest cold”, he doesn’t bother correcting them.

“No,” he manages, swallowing around the heaviness of his tongue. The way his mouth seems full of salival added pangs to his stomach as he knows he’s going to be sick. “It’s Jessica.” She’s angry with him and for good reason, though he doesn’t offer an explanation as to why.

Emily hums, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head. “What’d you did you do to piss her off?” In other circumstances, he might assume she’s attempting to pry. She’s just here for another cup of coffee, offering him a way to release some of his stress. No hard feelings if he suggests she fuck off and willing to lend an ear if he wants to talk. She’s not holding her breath but she hopes he comes undone. That he admits to some awful conspiracy and that this whole time they’ve been in some twisted social experiment to see how unified they actually are. That he isn’t as sick as he looks. That he’s just in a low spot and in a month he’ll be putting the weight back on and Derek will be telling them all about training for another marathon. How Reid could do more pushups than Hotch.

“I’m sorry,” Hotch whispers. He tries to step away from the counter. Feels the temperature in the room drops several degrees, his skin broken out in goosebumps. “I think to sit down,” he says frantically, knows now he needs to sit before he passes out.

Emily grabs his arm, tries to help him up. To get him to the chair that’s right there, so close.

“Hotch?” Derek jogs into the kitchen, he’d seen from afar and come running. “Emily, what’s wrong?”

Emily helps him to the ground, hand holding the back of his neck as his body starts sinking faster, beyond his control. She sits down on the ground beside him, eyes scanning across his body to find a feasible answer. Below her, Hotch’s breathing has gone rapid and shallow. His eyes rolled back into his head, neck-craning as he unconsciously fights to get air into his lungs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t know. He just-- He was just--” Hotch wheezes, an awful sound. He chokes, blood coming to paint his lips. To coat his teeth.

“Hotch?” Derek moves to his side, picking up Hotch’s shoulder to move him onto his side. “Hotch, answer me!”

His only reply is a wet gurgle, a blood-coated wheeze.