#safe caffeine levels

[nancykhemchandani]

Caffeine Limits: How Much is Too Much?

Discover safe caffeine levels, effects, tolerance, & tips. Learn what's too much & avoid side effects. Stay informed on caffeine intake!

[facts1590]

Caffeine Limits: How Much is Too Much?

Discover safe caffeine levels, effects, tolerance, & tips. Learn what's too much & avoid side effects. Stay informed on caffeine intake!

[buttfrovski]

I HAVE TO DO RESEARCH ON THE PRIME ENERGY DRINK AND I KEEP ACCIDENTALLY CALLING IT CRED 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[calamitys-child]

Rip sherlock holmes you would have loved knowing adhd exists

[steampunkedparm]

i WILL start violently crying dont test me

[crippledpunks]

chronic fatigue weaves its way into everything. people love to tell disabled people they'd love to rest as much as we do, but they fail to understand how tired we are while we rest. we are not relaxed, we are generally pretty miserable, either from pain, irritability, or fatigue- which bleeds into every aspect of your life. being too fatigued to get up off of the couch means that you're too fatigued to get to the cupboard to pull out pans to attempt to start cooking.

the steps hidden within steps that are required to do a lot of tasks related to being a "functioning adult" are daunting, there are often way too many steps necessary to make "Simple" foods or do "simple" chores for disabled people to accomplish these tasks. chronic fatigue often means that even waking up from a nap or night's rest requires time to adjust to and power through

waking up is a process for me. im often no more alert and awake hours after i've woken than I am right after doing so. caffeine does not help fatigue- at least not at safe doses, for me, anyways. many days the act of moving from my bedroom to my living room is too much. taking dishes to the sink can be too exhausting. i have began falling asleep in front of the kitchen counter while standing because i realize the amount of steps required to clean the counters, or do the dishes, or prepare a meal that all of my energy instantly bleeds away

it's okay if you feel this way too. i have been dealing with chronic fatigue my entire life and it cost me my best paying job. i lost my ability to work because of it. it's not just you being "sleepy", you are genuinely too exhausted to function. you do NOT have the energy levels other people do, and that's okay. it's okay to let yourself be tired sometimes and address that instead of trying to pretend you're not tired.

i wish you good luck. you are loved

[thisthatpinkvenom]

IT'S SWEATPANTS SEASON, OH MY!

JOCK!SAN / BAND GEEK!FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: Autumn has arrived; the season of pumpkin spice lattes, corn and—unfortunately for you—grey sweatpants. those pesky little things have attached themselves to your boyfriend's legs like glue, and you're having a hard time keeping your mind out of the gutter.

⤏ Genre(s): drabble*, fluff, humor(??), smut, smut, smut

⤏ Content: jock!San, band geek!fem reader (I know, I'm so original), you're referred to as "sweet potato" once—don't ask, just go with it, established relationship!au, college!au, non-idol!au

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): dry humping, unprotected piv (it's fiction, guysss. use your rubbers and stay safe!), creampie, just lots of build up because I'm down bad for a man in grey sweatpants 🙈

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

The mosaic of orange and yellow was striking below the dull blue clouds as the trees continued to shed their leaves. Your eyes swayed with the leaf you'd been watching descend its way patiently to the ground while you sat on the bench, shoulders jittering in the midst of the decreasing temperature. Your hands peeked out from the ends of your sleeves before rubbing together, the crisp morning air making your fingers tingle in the cold. You should've worn a thicker jacket, is what you mulled over in your head that you hadn't even noticed San until he enveloped his own padded jacket over you. The gust of warmth awoke you from your reverie and you hummed, meeting eyes with him when he lowered himself into a squat.

"You didn't have to come here," he said, a dimple indenting his cheek as he curled one corner of his mouth upward. After pulling the hood over your head, he tenderly brushed his thumb across your cheek. "I know you're not a morning person."

You struggled to fight a yawn until you decidedly gave in, white fog manifesting in your breath.

"I want to support you," you murmured. You were too busy blinking away your fatigue to notice how he looked on in nothing but fondness. Your conscience warped your thoughts when you scanned over the jacket engulfing your frame, your lips forming into a small pout. "Mm…aren't you going to be cold?"

San took a glance at his attire; he's only got a windbreaker left to keep him warm. Nonetheless, he shook his head and insisted he was used to practicing like this on the field. Despite wearing less than you and the flushed red on his nose and cheeks, you couldn't really tell if he felt the effect of the weather as much as you did. You couldn't fathom how he had the motivation to get up at the ass crack of dawn to run around with a ball, doing drills with his teammates while Coach Kim rapid-fired pointer after pointer without a stop to catch his breath. It truly was admirable how smiley he was at 7:00 a.m. without consuming any caffeine.

Coach Kim sauntered along the grass before he blew his whistle and commanded the team to group together. Your boyfriend looked over his shoulder before turning back to you, eyes squinting as the sun's orange glow began to blanket over the field.

"Well, gotta start soon," he observed. "Stay warm and if you're sleepy, just go back. I'm happy you're here but don't force yourself to stay. All right, Sweet Potato?"

You made a small noise of confirmation, unfazed by the odd affectionate nickname you had gotten used to over time. The heat of his palms skimmed over your ears as he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead before standing tall. But what you didn't anticipate—whoa—had really slapped you awake right then and there. For the mere five seconds you'd managed to capture a mental image, time felt as if it'd been stretched to hell when your boyfriend's crotch had leveled with your eyes. You hadn't realized the grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and now that you've gotten a face full of…that, you're acutely aware.

You're shook to the core.

Your gaze trailed after his jogging figure, following the path up his long and toned legs to his cute little bu—okay, whoa! It's only 7:15 in the morning. You had no business indulging in these thoughts right now. Get it together.

Oh, he's facing your general direction now.

Are you staring at it too much? It's starting to feel a little warm, all of a sudden; it's the jacket, isn't it? Just how long is this going to take?

You're trapped on this bench. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since practice started and Coach Kim was rambling on about the importance of warming up while you're glued to your seat, pathetically staring at your boyfriend's dickprint while he seemingly had no idea. God, you felt like a perv. Even though he assured you that it was okay, you didn't want to just up and leave. This was a relationship built on give and take, and there were one too many times when he watched your concerts while knowing little to nothing about orchestral music.

You'll just suffer, then.

"Just fuck him."

"Lisa!" you chided, pushing three fingers against your friend's arm as she rolled her eyes.

"What?" She swirled her tongue around the glob of chocolate ice cream sitting on top of her waffle cone. "He's a hot, charming guy. Your own boyfriend makes you horny and that's supposed to be a problem now?"

"Oh, my gosh, I just…" you trailed off, eyes searching elsewhere for your thoughts. "I'm not used to being all"—you waved your hands disorientedly in front of you—"dirty…minded. He's the one who usually initiates it."

"Sex?"

"Everything physical, really," you clarified. "I just feel like if I start it, it's just going to be off—and awkward."

You sighed. "How am I going to get through this season?"

"Oh, yeah, the sweatpants; that's what's been making you a sex freak," Lisa recalled with an airy laugh. "Those things are like lingerie for guys. Especially the grey ones…oomf. 'Dicktoria's Secret' is real," she snorted.

You gave her a blank stare.

"Look, just be honest," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world—which it was. "You really think any guy is gonna find it offensive that his girl's drooling over his bulge?"

"I wasn't drooling—"

"You will be."

"Oh, my gosh."

You weren't aware that having a footballer-boyfriend automatically signed you up for three months' worth of almost nothing but sweatpants. You also didn't know how many he had stashed in his wardrobe until now—it's good to know he didn't wear the same pair everyday. But this meant he had enough pairs to flaunt his dick outline in your face whenever you were together.

Not good for your cavewoman brain.

Fingers danced along your neck and you squirmed at the intrusion, meeting eyes with San's own with your face sporting a frown. The same fingers belonged to the arm lazing comfortably around your shoulders, both of you having snuggled together into mush on his couch while you binge-watched one of your favorite shows. You whined his name in annoyance when you're kicked out of your thoughts.

He chortled. "Sorry, I just—it's Buffy and you don't even seem that into it. Is everything okay?"

Let's see: it's a Friday night. His roommate, Mingi went to visit his parents for the weekend and you're all alone with your hot, charming boyfriend™ who's clearly gone commando under his sweats. And you're supposed to be watching Buffy slay vampires…how?

"Y-Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" you stammered.

He hummed in feigned ponder, and the knowing smirk surging its way onto his lips would've sent a churn in your belly if you'd actually caught sight of it.

"You know that my eyes are up here, right?"

Your eyes snapped up in panic, and silence was the only response you had sitting on your tongue. You wanted to hide in a cave, where you could wallow in embarrassment without disturbance. Your own boyfriend had just caught you ogling his crotch like a perv.

San tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing a smile at how you resembled a deer in headlights. "You thought I wouldn't notice?"

Your mouth was stuck in a battle between opening and closing as you desperately searched for the right words. With a defeated sigh, your face fell into the safety of your palms.

"This is so embarrassing," you groaned, words muffled against your hands.

"Hey," he laughed softly, grabbing your wrists in an attempt to retract your hands away from your face. "It's not a big deal"—you sighed when the light from the standing lamp washed into your eyes—"it's cute."

You gave him a funny look. "Cute," you stated, doubt laced in your tone.

"Yeah. Usually, I'm the one doing all the staring."

He scanned you up and down with a pondering pout on his lips, continuing on to ask, "It's the sweatpants, isn't it?"

"Do you have to state the obvious?" you whined.

"What? I just wanna make things clear, so I know what to wear for you," he teased. He shifted closer and smoothed a hand up your thigh. "I'll wear more for you."

If he felt the goosebumps on your skin, he didn't comment on them.

"You say it like it's lingerie," you quipped, recalling what Lisa said a few days ago. You're saying anything to distract yourself right now, but you crumbled easily whenever he touched you. And he knew it well, especially when his hand moved dangerously close to your pyjama shorts. You're not even sure if you were breathing.

"If it's gotten you like this, then I'd say it pretty much is."

He moved on to say, "I like it when you look at me like that."

Your expression was frozen. "Like what?"

San's eyes changed ever so slightly, his hand finally slipping between your squeezed thighs.

"Like you really want me."

Your thighs parted for him. "I…I do," you murmured.

"Oh, really? Where do you want me?"

"Where else?"

"I asked you first."

You made a quiet huff from your nose, looking down at his hand that's aching to pull your shorts down. "Inside"—you hesitated—"inside me. I-I would like it if we had sex…please?"

His lustful gaze turned softer, eyebrows raised high at your interesting way of words. While you, on the other hand, visibly grimaced. San found your eyes shutting tight and your nose scrunching up all too adorable, and without a doubt, he would've bitten your cheeks if he could.

With a chuffed smile, he hooked his fingers at the waistbands of your shorts and underwear, waiting for you to lift your hips. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's have the sex now."

You sulked at his incessant teasing, knowing well enough that he was purposefully expressing his words awkwardly. He laughed and assured you he would stop there, before grabbing your now half-naked body by the hips and having you straddle him. His fleece sweatpants were rough from the continuous use, giving you some nice sense of friction on your sensitive nub.

But above all that, you could feel the presence of his cock hiding beneath his pants, your pussy lips spreading the slightest on his erection. Your breath hitched as his hands made their way under your sweater, then your shirt; reposed comfortably at your hips as if they made home there. The pads of his fingers kneaded your skin as he looked up at you with expectant eyes.

"C'mon, get yourself off for me."

You waited with bated breath for nothing in particular—you'd just been momentarily distracted by his intense stare. Nodding too many times in the span of a second, you began to move your hips under the guide of his hands.

"Oh…"

There was a minor ache in your hips when he dug his fingers deeper in your skin, but you were too focused on the soft chafing of the fabric against your clit. It was getting you in the right place; so rough.

"Are you doing okay, Baby?"

You released an unstable sigh. "Y-Yeah."

He eyed the way your skin slightly folded with every move you made on his clothed cock, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. Your motions grew faster and more impatient as you yearned for his mouth against yours, falling forward before your lips touched his.

He pushed you down each time he pulled you forward, earning growingly unsteady breaths from you into his mouth. You nearly choked when he bucked his hips upward, soft moans having no chance to escape when each were engulfed by his lips. You continued to do nothing but mindlessly grind your clit on him, humping his clothed cock like you were in desperate heat.

You didn't have the mind to warn him at this moment, unable to hear anything but your own moans until you were reaching your impending climax. And soon with trembling thighs, you came. Your skin grew rampant with shivers while your mind went elsewhere for the bite of a second.

San finally spared some mercy, separating from you with a thin string of spit connecting your lips before he's splitting it with a lick from his tongue. Stealing a glance at the dark spot you left on his pants, he served you a lustful, lopsided smile.

"This is what you'll get if you're just a little more honest with me," he chuckled.

Your ears grew hot at the sight of your arousal leaving its mark, adjusting yourself with your hands on the backrest behind him. You waited a few beats to gather your words before you muttered, "Well…can I be honest with you right now?"

"Of course."

San waited with patient eyes, his stare nearly melting you into goo while he thumbed your skin again.

"I'd like to have the sex—with your penis inside me…please."

He didn't try at all to suppress amusement at how you'd poked fun at yourself, hearty laughter producing from the pit of his belly. The dimples in his cheeks emerged from hiding as he grinned and nodded while pushing his waistband down, just enough for his cock to free itself. When his laughter had settled, he pressed a peck on the tip of your nose.

"Whenever you're ready."

You grabbed the base of his cock and pressed the tip against your entrance, pausing for a moment until you began to slowly but surely, sink entirely down his length. The stretch always started as an odd pressure between your walls, but once they'd completely swallowed his dick whole, it always left you wanting more. It's a feeling you don't think you could ever give justice to, if you were ever asked to describe it. He was just so right for you.

Your body gave into him as he pulled you flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist like a tightened belt. His hushed groans were made only for you, and hearing them continuously by your ear sent shivers down your spine.

"So warm," he muttered under his breath. He slid his bum further down the couch with you in his grasp and spread his legs wider. And when he was sure of the angle, he rolled his hips to meet yours, finding a steady pace with the most agonizingly unyielding thrusts. With every slam of his hips, your moans rendered into off-key whimpers as you melted under his guidance.

It felt like you were experiencing the hottest temperatures of the summer; your cheeks were burning and at moments, you felt like pushing away just from the sheer heat of your bodies entangled together.

A cuss left your boyfriend's lips when you gnawed on his shoulder, the salty tang of sweat grazing your tongue. And as if he wasn't holding onto you tightly already, he pulled you even closer as his cock rammed relentlessly, his rhythm growing sloppy when he began reaching his peak.

Your back felt like it'd been bent beyond repair as his cum coated your walls, the familiar twitching of his cock presented inside you. But he didn't stop there, he wouldn't until you came as well. And with his jaw clenched, he fucked into you like you were his toy, white rings of his own orgasm spilling with every move and making way to stain his pants.

"C'mon, Baby," he grunted. "Cum, f-fuck—cum, fucking c-cum…"

And in a few more thrusts, all you saw were specks of white among darkness. Your pussy spared no consideration on his sensitive cock and clenched as you trembled, the string of swears leaving his lips going deaf on your ears. Your limbs fell limp to pure exhaustion, despite how much you wanted to just wrap them around him like you were a koala and he was the tree. You wanted to mark your kisses all over his face but not even your lips were functioning right now as you barely managed to muster out a "thank you".

It was clear that it took a moment for San to register what you'd said, before he let out a breathy laugh. Not because he found something funny, it was just one of those laughs you got when you felt so euphoric—like getting your balls drained until you were a moaning mess; that kind of euphoric.

He kissed the top of your head, looking ahead at the TV where Buffy was still slaying vampires as usual. His dick stayed inside you, soft and relaxed in your warmth, neither of you in any rush to clean up.

"Mm…remind me to buy more of these sweats."

[ithebookhoarder]

If your still taking requests could u pls do “if you were taken by an unsub” criminal minds imagin? Or smth along those lines, if not that’s fine tho

~ ☘️

(BAU Headcanons) If you were taken by an Unsub

A/N: Um, of course you can?! Thanks for sending this one in angel 😇 I'm only sorry it's taken me this long to answer this. Hope you like it!

Warnings: Usual Criminal Minds references to criminals, murder, violence etc. Mentions of mental health. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

If you were taken? This man would not rest until you were back and safe with him - and not just because of what happened to Haley (though it doesn’t help). 

He would bark orders at everyone in a cold and blunt manner that tells them he is not in the mood to be messed with.

They will do as they are told and they will do it now. 

This poor man would be fighting not to let his fear show but he'd be seen clenching his fists over and over and taking long deep breaths in front of the mirror in the bathroom in an attempt to ground himself and get his head on straight. 

He's no good to you if he lets himself fall apart. His team - and more importantly, you - are counting on him.

You know he’s blaming himself and you’re both going to need therapy once this whole experience is over with. 

He would go into his hyper-rational mode, focusing on making plans and ignoring anything that isn’t getting you back safe and sound - which means no sleep. None. He’s running on fumes and caffeine - even after you’re found. 

It would take days for him to feel secure enough to close his eyes and be able to trust you’ll still be there when he opens them again. 

Also you best believe he is breaking out his old law text books and ensuring this UnSub goes down for a lonnnnnng time… if they even make it to trial that is. This man is a trained sniper and knows other trained snipers… just saying… 

David Rossi 

He may like to remind you all of his passionate Italian nature from time to time but it’s impossible to miss when he hears what’s happened to you. He’s an emotional mess, staggering between horror and rage to a frighteningly cold determination that is rare for the eldest team member.  

He’d try to act in control, pulling rank on everyone - including Hotch, which obviously doesn’t work. 

“No offence, Aaron, but I was chasing down Unsubs when you were still in diapers. I know what I’m doing.”

However, they know him well enough to see that despite having years of experience under his belt, Rossi is terrified of making some kind of mistake. 

Once they do find you, he’d be one of the first through the door, too concerned with checking you’re ok to worry about anything else. 

He’d also be sure to pay for the best medical care money could buy, if you needed it following the ordeal.

He also knows people and has no problem paying for you to see a counsellor of some sort if the situation required it. He just wants to take care of you now that you’re back in his arms again. 

Derek Morgan

This man is like a whole military unit in himself at the best of times, but he’s a whole other level of lethal when it comes to protecting the ones he loves. You do NOT want to be on the wrong side of Morgan, and that’s exactly where the Unsub who took you would sit. 

There isn’t a door he wouldn’t be willing to kick down to get you - and everybody knows better than to say a word about it. (Hotch is already mentally filling out all the paperwork he’s going to need once this rescue is done, but he doesn’t exactly mind, given the situation).

Also, Morgan may have trained you himself, drilling you in self-defence and marksmanship so you’d known how to protect yourself out there in the field, but none of that matters now. You may have the Unsub at your mercy already, or you may be at theirs, but he doesn’t know and that’s what’s killing him: the not knowing. 

It’s why Penelope is basically glued to his side the whole entire time, telling him everything she finds out the very second she finds it.  

“We’ll find them sugar, I promise. They’re just as tough and strong as you are, so don’t give up on them, ok?”

He’d be leading the pack once you are found though, tearing through anyone and anything that stood in his way. All he cares about is seeing you with his own eyes and getting you as far away from danger as possible. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. It’s my job to keep you safe and I failed you.”

He’d be beating himself up for weeks after and it would take an entire team intervention to get him to let you go back out into the field again without him being glued to your side. After all, he’s not making the same mistake twice. Any Unsub wants that wants to get close to you will have to get past him first. 

Emily Prentiss

This woman is a super spy and a lethal weapon on an average day but if you were taken? Then she would be the most dangerous woman in the entire United States. 

She knows people in every agency and on every continent so you best believe she will be calling in favours left, right and centre. (Even Rossi is terrified by how quickly she was able to get the Pentagon on the phone…)

She would also be action-focused, needing to do something rather than sitting around wasting time. Every minute spent talking was one more minute the Unsub had to hurt you - and that thought makes her feel physically sick. 

This would end up causing her to explode, taking it out on whichever unfortunate soul is closest. Like, you know she would definitely have to be reminded by Hotch that they actually need the local law enforcement to work with them, if they want to get you back alive, after she is seen screaming at an unfortunate officer for their ‘utter stupidity’. 

Thankfully, she gets to turn that rage on the Unsub after they find you. I mean, let’s be real. It would take Morgan physically holding her back to stop her from beating their face in. 

This frustration would ultimately then be transferred to you, once she knows you’re safe. 

You almost can quote her ‘You almost died’ speech by this point, but you know it makes you both feel better to hear it so you let her rant and rant until she’s calm enough to crawl into your arms and squeeze you close. 

“I love you so much. I can’t lose you.” 

You’re also pretty sure she now has people following you at all times, watching over you when she can’t, so that this never happens again. 

JJ

JJ is every bit as lethal as Emily is when those she loves are at risk. If anything, she’s more terrifying because she’ll hide that murderous rage behind a ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt’ smile before deciding to strike. 

However, it would take everything in her not to just charge in and go on the offensive. After all, she was willing to run into a bank full of armed robbers after Will. 

It would probably end up with the team having to physically holding her back to stop her - usually accompanied by a well meaning pep talk about how she needs to get her head on straight if she actually wants to help get you back. 

You know this woman would follow you everywhere afterwards, never letting you out of her sight. In fact, she hits ‘super Mom mode’ where she is constantly fussing over you and seems to have the world in her go-bag. 

You need tissues, pain-killers, chocolate: she got it.

“Hey, it’s ok. You know I’ve got your back, right? I won’t let anything else happen to you. You’re safe now.”

She would also call you out on all your BS, if you tried to downplay what happened to you or if you were still affected. 

One twitch of her eyebrow is all it takes for her to have you pinned to your chair and spilling your guts about your emotions. You know better than to make her ask twice. After all, she may be the first to downplay it when she’s hurting but when it comes to her team and her family, she’d do anything to take care of you. If that’s driving your ass to therapy or just holding you, she’ll do it without complaint.

Penelope Garcia 

Would immediately panic as soon as she hears what’s happened to you. Like, we’re talking SO much panic.

Poor girl is spiralling and needs the team to help ground her so she can get back to the lair and do her thing. It would probably be down to Morgan or like JJ to get her to actually remember to breathe and not make herself pass out. 

But once she’s up and running? Well, she’d be all over the Unsub like a bad rash. Every teeny tiny detail of their life is suddenly unearthed and splashed on the 

board for everyone to see. (No one dares ask how she found certain items, but knowing her history with the dark web it’s probably for the best). 

Also, she would be begging for constant updates once the team is out in the field.  Any other day, it would drive the team insane to have a constant running Penelope monologue in their ears, but they’re surprisingly tolerant in this case. 

“Guys, do you see them? Are they ok? What’s going on? I need to know people! I have no eyes here!” 

Would be all over you once you’re safe and insists on installing tracking software on everything. She wants a digital link to you, 24/7 so that this NEVER happens again. It’s simultaneously flattering and slightly terrifying how much power this angel has at the end of her glittery, manicured fingers. 

Dr Spencer Reid

Depending on which season-Reid you’re with when you’re taken, you would have a distraught super genius who makes it his life’s mission to get you back. Or, you’d have a prison-hardened super genius with a slightly grey-er view of the world on a mission to find you. 

Either way, there’s probably no one you’d want more to be in charge of locating and rescuing you. 

Like Hotch, I feel he would become obsessed with nothing other than finding you. He wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t sleep. Hell, no one on the team has even seen him leave the briefing room long enough to go pee, let alone take a break. This results in the team all taking it in turns to be parental figures and coax (and eventually threaten) him into pausing long enough to down a glass of water and eat some snack bar. 

Between Morgan’s physical threats, JJ’s guilt-trips, and Hotch threatening to bench him from this case, they’d eventually succeed. 

“You guys don’t get it. They need me. I have to figure this out - they’re counting on me. I can’t fail them. I won’t. So either help me or get out of here and let me think.”

We all know he would probably harass any medical professionals charged with caring for you, once you’re back. He doesn’t trust them - especially when it comes to your welfare. 

He’d also confine you to the couch and force you to rest, queueing up endless re-runs of Doctor Who and whatever shows you find most comforting to have playing in the background. It’s selfishly what he needs too, being able to sit and hold you long enough to quell any fears he may have about you and your wellbeing. You’re here and you’re real and you’re safe. 

Masterlist

[lingerina]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝓛𝐄𝐆 𝐂𝐔𝓡𝐋𝐒 ／ park jihyo

➛ g!p jihyo x fem!reader ➛ 2.8k words ➛ smut ➛ public setting, spanking, squirting, creampie, praise ➛ part of SWEAT&TEARS. ➛ you thought going early meant you would be the only one there. you thought wrong.

4:30 A.M.

It might be insane to willingly be at the gym at this hour, half-asleep and dreaming of being in bed again.

But here you are, dumbbells in hand while staring at your reflection in the massive mirrors, wondering how you were able to do this before.

Once upon a time, you were an avid gym goer who was on top of her nutrition (and honoring her cravings) and an inspiration to her friends for maintaining a well-balanced lifestyle.

After getting laid off, you had all the time in the world to work harder. To cook for yourself, for your friends who were heavily reliant on takeout, and to dedicate more time to the gym. You didn’t think you’d get back into the workforce so quickly but you did, and this job was going to consume much of your time and energy.

Just cooking right after work was exhausting for you. The few days that you intended to take a break from the gym became a week.

Then, it became two weeks.

Three weeks.

Three months.

If it weren’t for incompetent management, you would’ve been able to manage your work-life balance already. You wouldn’t turn to freezer meals and fast food for sustenance. You wouldn’t have to rely on caffeine to get you through the day. It took some mild threats and a long, colorful discussion with the directors to hire more people but now that the new hires have been trained and settled, you could focus on getting your life back on track.

The avid gym goer is still in you somewhere. She just needs to be lured out again, and what better way to make a comeback at the gym than to resume your journey at an all-women’s gym that just opened down the block last month?

Having a safe space accessible to you is enough encouragement for you to pick up your gear again and return to the active life you once knew. You had to reason with yourself to get up this early and you were fortunate enough to still have some level of self-discipline to do so.

While you don’t mind working out with other women, you would much prefer to be alone. Not only is the crack of dawn the only time you have to fit in your workouts, but it’s also when it’s not crowded. You hoped you would have the gym all to yourself until you walked in and discovered one other soul on the premises.

You weren’t in the mood to interact or be perceived so early in the morning but upon making eye contact with you, she beamed and greeted you with a quick wave. Of course you had to wave back, even with how obviously dead you looked. It would be rude to ignore a pretty woman, and you weren’t that rude.

At least until you realized how often you were sparing a her a glance (specifically at her behind) while you were warming up on the treadmill. That was disrespectful.

You shake your head and assume an exaggerated wide stance, your feet planted a fair distance apart. You adjust them while observing yourself in the mirror to ensure that you won’t strain your hips. When your legs are wide enough to feel the burn but not a straining pain, you hold both dumbbells in front of you at waist level. Your eyes close, your head lowers, and you drop down into a front squat. 

You steadily drive back up while squeezing your core and proceed with the next several reps of sumo squats, unaware of the only pair of eyes in the building skimming over you.

Jihyo is no longer performing her routine. Her headphones are now sitting around her neck, and she’s more focused on the glorious view in front of her than on finishing her workout.

It’s not like she’s never seen a woman squatting before. She has.

Dozens of times.

And it gets her rock-hard every time.

She notes that today must be leg and glutes day for you due to the various squats you’ve done, and how you barely targeted any other part of your body. It’s a blessing (and a curse) for her since it’s been a week since she last got some action. That may not be long but as someone who has a decent roster of friends (and patrons) with benefits, a week without pussy is far too long.

And she’s not going to let this opportunity slip up.

She approaches you when you pause for a water break, forgetting that just because other people are up at the same time as her doesn’t mean they have the same energy as she does. “Hi!”

You crane your neck to look at her as you hydrate and greet her with a small nod. “Hello.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you new?”

You nod. “I am.”

She clasps her hands with a grin. “How lovely! Welcome aboard. I’m Jihyo. Do you need any assistance or guidance?”

With pursed lips and a second to think, you slowly shake your head. “No thank you. I appreciate it though.”

She nods. “Let me know if you do. I’ll be happy to help!”

You’re lying face down on the leg curl machine, your mind slowly polluted by the images you didn’t think you’d see.

With how courteous Jihyo is with extending a helping hand, you had asked her to spot you at the squat rack. As you were performing your barbell squats, you didn’t miss her intent gaze on your behind as you were going down. You didn’t miss the way she licked and bit her lip. How shameless and disrespectful she was with staring, in comparison to the polite gesture of her hands only hovering over your hips. 

Not touching you at all.

What had really seared into the back of your mind was the view that you came eye level with when you bent down to pick up your water bottle: the massive tent in her joggers.

Jihyo’s boner has occupied your mind since then. You have been laying still for the past five minutes wondering just how big she is, how friendly she has been, and how innocent her intentions may (or may not) be. You’re not one to stare and ponder the strangers around you, but she caught your eye the very second you set foot into this gym and she now dominates your thoughts and fantasies.

It’s sorely obvious that you made her horny, and now you’re aching because the effect is reciprocated.

“What’s the matter?”

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when Jihyo’s voice snaps you out of your trance. You turn your head and, once again, come face-to-face with her pelvis. She’s standing too close to you. So close that you can make out the outline of her erection through her black joggers.

Face heated. Core clenching. 

You let your head drop back down, your grip on the side handles tightening at the thought of this woman taking care of you in.. other ways. “Nothing. Just resting.”

“Oh?” She chuckles. “But you were doing very well.”

“I just need a little rest,” you whine.

A light smack on your rear surprises you, but her laughter insists that this is all in good nature. “Don’t slack off now.”

Another smack, and now you’re the one laughing. “I’m not. I promise!”

The empty gym reverberates with laughter and squealing. 

You don’t recall when, but it quickly echoes with solid thwacks as her playful smacks have progressed to full-on spanking. You’re no longer giggling. You’re gasping, moaning, and tensing up with each slap that targets your sore ass. Jihyo’s playful jabs have morphed into something darker and more threatening.

It’s exactly what your pussy is aching for.

Being in a lust-filled haze, you don’t budge when your leggings are yanked down. Its compression and tight fit takes your panties down with it, and both garments sit at your ankles, exposing all the intimate parts of you to her–and whoever will stumble through the doors.

As much as you want to be ruined by an insanely attractive woman at this very moment, you’re still in a public place. It would be shameful to be banned on the very first day.

“W-Wait,” you pant as you grab her wrist. “What if someone comes in?”

“They won’t.”

“Doesn’t the manager come in early?”

You’re confused by her hearty laugh.

“Oh darling,” she coos, her fingertips tenderly tracing your slick folds and spreading your arousal. “I’m the manager, and I’ll make sure no one else gets to see you like this.”

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as two of her fingers dip inside you. 

They shove deeper in the second time. Deep enough for her knuckles to graze your hole. You were always keen on being spanked and manhandled, and she is proving just how drenched it can get you. 

The squelches of her fingers being suctioned by your aching walls fill the silence. It should be embarrassing to be turned on by so little, but you barely feel any shame. You barely feel the shame of dripping all over the padded surface, dirtying the machine with your juices as Jihyo fucks you with her fingers. You barely feel the shame of allowing the manager to ruin you like this.

And she doesn’t feel an ounce of it either.

“Such a pretty thing,” she mutters, her slow but calculated thrusts doing a splendid job at making you feel full somehow. “It would be a shame to not get a taste.”

Much to your dismay, she withdraws her fingers and leaves you clenching around nothing. “On your back.”

The machine offers little real estate for you to move significantly but with your raging hormones and a rush of adrenaline, you manage to do as told. Jihyo wastes no second getting down, spreading you open, and flattening her tongue on your slit.

The immediate touch of heat on skin is all that you need after months without action. She knows how to use her mouth, just like how you know where to grab to stay balanced as she eats you out. You didn’t think you’d ever find yourself in this exact position again at another gym, but you’re glad you do—and with someone attentive.

Your eyes roll back as her fingers fill you up again. You clutch tighter on the edge of your seat as your engorged clit gets catered to by her mouth, the sharp tugs between her teeth creating even more tension in your limbs. You don’t feel the burn of your core clenching from holding onto the machine, but you’re guaranteed to feel it later when it’s all over and you’re left yearning for more.

The lethal combination of her fingers buried in your cunt and her mouth spelling out filth on your clit is enough to rush you to your brink. You arch your back, colorful words threaded through breathy moans and pitched cries as her deep and steady thrusts work their way up in momentum. 

The lewd squelching of her knuckles brushing over your slit is deafening. It reminds you of the strength that you lack. The strength of keeping your head straight and not falling into the palms of a pretty woman. You don’t think your wet pussy can be any louder until she’s working quicker through you. For a stranger, she knows how to navigate your body a little too well.

“Fuck,” you pant, your grip on the sides of the seat squeezing tighter.

Jihyo replaces her mouth with her thumb on your clit, and you fall apart. She watches your drenched cunt cream her digits and make a massive mess on the seat. Your release streams down the surface and puddles to the floor, and the filthy view only makes her cock swell more.

She has waited long enough.

You fall limp when she removes her fingers. With your head spinning, you intend to recuperate from the ecstasy. Not a minute later, however, is your peace compromised when a massive intrusion slides inside you, prying your slick walls open and earning a loud cry from you.

You scramble to look down and find Jihyo’s cock stuffed inside you. You peer up at her with wide eyes, gulping at the smirk on her face. She slowly pulls out.

Agonizingly slowly.

You discover just how big she is before she drives it back into you. You fall back with a moan, once again reduced to a mess as your body is at her mercy. 

Your tits, confined in a low-impact sports bra, are squeezed together by her hands before she yanks the garment down to free them. Though she’s still and snug inside you, pleasure continues to surge through your limbs as she sucks on your nipple. Lips clasped and teeth nipping at the sensitive peak, she suckles and pulls and gets you flowing even more.

“Please,” you exhale. “Please move. Please!”

She chuckles and releases your nipple with an obscene pop. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Very nicely.

Nice enough for her to prop your legs over her shoulders, bend you in half (unearthing the flexibility you didn’t know you had), and fuck you.

Her pace varies between quick and mildly painful, to slow and deep and intoxicating. Your pain threshold can carry you through the phase of her drilling your aching cunt. When she suddenly slows down and her thrusts are drawn out, the brunt of the pleasure hits you.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby,” she coos.

Another thrust, and she grunts. “Just a little more. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

She fucks the words out of you. What you intend to say is disrupted by the lewd noises that leave your lips. You muster a stiff nod to acknowledge her and she responds by leaning forward, forcing your thighs up to your chest, and picking up her pace.

She’s so deep inside you with this new angle. You were going to bruise and stagger for days to come, but you can only focus on how this woman’s strict fitness regime is showing in the unforgiving momentum of her hips and her effortless grip to keep you balanced, Since you barely had a breather from your previous orgasm, you’re quickly driven to that brink.

As your eyes roll back and your body arches, Jihyo smirks. She digs her fingertips into the softness of your thighs, panting as she drills you. “Go ahead, baby. Come for me.”

The machine is slick with your overflowing arousal. With how hard she’s fucking you and how much you’re dripping, the obscene squelches of her cock pounding your poor cunt echoes through the empty facility. If you weren’t so lost in lust, you would feel embarrassed about dirtying the equipment.

“Oh, fuck!,” you cry out, thighs trembling violently as you gush all over her.

The force of your release pushes her out, allowing all the room you need to spatter and spill all over the seat. She vigorously strokes your engorged clit while pumping her pulsing cock as she is just as close. She drains you of all you have before sliding back inside you with ease, courtesy of your ample wetness.

“God, yes,” she hisses as your slick walls immediately tense around her.

Your thighs lock around her neck from the sensitivity as you’re subjected to her endurance. Her persistence. Your stamina is nowhere near hers, and you wonder just how quick it’ll take for her to break you.

To destroy you.

Loud moans erupt from both of you as she bottoms out, stretching you with her girth and filling you with her load. She weaves a tight embrace on your thighs, draws out, then pistons back into you, pushing her cum deeper inside you. Your hips lift just slightly from her hold on your legs, and the feeling of her dick buried inside you is now burned into your memory.

You were going to crave it more than ever.

When she pulls out of you, you lay lifelessly on the machine.

Sweaty, ruined, and filthy.

Jihyo, on the other hand, has already straightened herself up. You assume she’s about to tell you to hurry up and clean the equipment before people start coming in. Instead, she lowers to your eye level and strokes your hair.

“You did so well, pretty girl,” she praises with a grin. “Go hop in the shower. I’ll clean up for you.”

“Really?”

She nods. “Let me know if you ever need assistance with your… workout.”

You giggle, and proceed to slide off the dirtied seat. You feel the impact of Jihyo’s strength now that you’re on your feet, and it’s even worse as you amble to the shower. 

If you’re feeling this now, you’re certainly not ready for the full soreness tomorrow.

[goosegoblin]

just a gentle note on caffeine-

for people without complicating health issues, it's nearly impossible to overdose on caffeine by drinking beverages. if you drink too much, you will feel shitty/ shaky/ panic-y etc, but it's very unlikely to cause you lasting harm.

the LD50 for caffeine- the dose at which 50% of people will die, commonly used to discuss toxicity- is estimated to be somewhere between 150 - 200mg/kg. one of the lowest recorded deaths occured at 57mg/ kg- going by that number, an 80kg person would have to consume 4560mg. an average shot of espresso is around 65mg. that is seventy shots.

nearly all caffeine death cases occur from caffeine powder or supplements. do not fuck around with these things.

the reason i'm writing this is just to respond to some of the anxiety and panic i see people experiencing around caffeine levels lately. it goes without saying that i am not a doctor! and you should follow the advice of a health professional above all else!

but in general, if you've drunk too much coffee: you're going to feel like shit for a while, but in the absence of a complicating health issue, you are almost certainly safe.

(sources consulted: Cabral et al 2022, Jones 2017, Kerrigan and Lindsey 2005, wikipedia)

[crazycookies73307]

It's amazing just how much you're willing to do for someone when you like them.

In the romantic sense, I mean.

When you platonically like someone you'd do anything for them, as long as you're able to handle it.

When you romantically like someone, though? That's a whole different level we're talking about.

When you romantically like someone, you'd do anything for them, even if it's sometimes beyond your capabilities.

You might be drowning in your own sorrows, but their suffering always feels like a greater loss. So much so that you feel as though you'd bear their pains on top of your own, just so that they wouldn't have to.

You might find yourself terribly busy, but you always manage to make time for them. You might not know anything related to their interests, so despite being behind on just about everything else, you still somehow manage to learn about them.

Granted, all this is applicable to platonic love as well, but somehow, you felt that romantic love had a certain magical feel to it.

Maybe it was the influence of too many Disney movies, but who cares.

But in the same way, it was also amazing just how much you're not willing to do for someone who you don't like.

Again, in the romantic sense.

See, this is what you meant about the difference between platonic and romantic love. As far as life has worked out for you, when you romantically like someone, you'd find a way to give them the moon and when you just platonically like someone, you'd barely be willing to give them a polished pebble.

Or maybe, you just have shitty friends.

Correction, shitty friend.

You'd do anything for him, even it meant your own doom, but God forbid if the same applied to you.

Their messages were read as soon as they were delivered. Yours was left on delivered for a while.

They ask him for a favour, he'd do it. Granted, it would take a bit of convincing. But for you? Yeah, dream on.

Situations arose where you'd be partnered together. And more than half the time, you know he'd rather be paired with someone else. A certain someone else.

Unless your help was necessary, that is.

Somehow, you had the solutions for everyone's problems.

The advisor, the helper, the mother, the tutor, the therapist, the mentor.

It also sucked that you were an enigma for the rest. You somehow managed to stay on the top of your game despite taking on more and more.

But few knew of your disastrous tendency to procrastinate. Pair it with your perfectionistic attitude and it was a recipe for a disaster, the result being an extremely stressed, sleep deprived and caffeine high you.

You still pushed through, though.

Out of sheer spite and willpower, but still.

The fact was, that you were a busy person. And it's a universal truth that busy people are always stressed.

When you were a busy person with a stupid crush on a guy you know you've got zero chance with, it made your stress ten times worse.

It was as though the universe was against you.

The perfect guy, one who actually wasn't your type, but ended up redefining your idea of your ideal type to fit himself in.

The one guy who you knew, was not necessarily a bad match for you, personality wise anyways. Lord knows if there's anything else lurking beneath.

The one guy who managed to make your tough attitude melt into absolute nothing.

The one guy who managed to make you, who dreamt of lazy rainy evenings and warm tea , end up dreaming about the mushy stuff. Stuff you wouldn't normally dream about, not with a clear cut idea anyway, like your dates, hugs, talks, and even your marriage.

Especially your marriage.

The one guy who managed to break down a lot of your walls, the one guy you felt safe with, the one guy you knew you could trust openly, and you couldn't have him.

For reasons out of your control, you just weren't what he was looking for.

You were good enough to help him.

You were good enough to listen to his troubles.

You were good enough to be used as an excuse for when crap went sideways, because after all, you were trusted.

You were kind, after all. His words, not yours.

It's kind of embarassing, just how much you were willing to do for his sake, and just how little you expected him to do for you.

What you wanted were your thoughts, emotions and actions returned. What you received, was an entirely different matter.

He cared about her,worried about her, and for better or for worse, cried for her. To the extent that you sometimes wished you could stab yourself rather than to witness the scenes unfold.

If he was so capable of such emotions, so capable of freely expressing them, then why was it that he never even gave an ounce of it your way?

Were you worthy of the bare minimum effort? The bare minimum care?

Were you worth so little?

Was that it?

Was that why you were always, always one of the lowest of his priorities?

Maybe it was a you problem, maybe it had nothing to do with him.

But was it really?

Was it really your fault that he chose her over you, every single time?

Was it really your fault, when he made the choice to prioritise her needs over his own, and then come crying to you?

Was it really your fault, when he decided to play a dangerous game of chase with her, willingly allowing you to be the first hand witness to their game?

Was it really your fault, when despite you being there to help him out of his messes, especially regarding hers, he still went running to her for comfort?

They created the messes that you had to clean up.

They were the ones who made bad life choices and come running to you for advice.

They were the ones who were involved in the god forsaken game of cat and mouse, somehow dragging you into the middle of the mess.

They were the ones who forced you into a corner sometimes, with you being needed to cover for them, in the face of a lot of people.

They were the ones who had to be careful in their so-called games, but you were the one forced to enforce the said caution.

In their point of view, you were the villain in their story.

Always poking around, ruining a part of their fun.

But they also know that they were the ones who forced you into the role. That someone was needed to possess the common sense that they lacked. Of course, whether they listened to the said common sense was another matter entirely.

Granted, sometimes you enjoyed putting them in their places a bit too much.

Despite his devil may care attitude when it came to anyone other than her, you knew that he did care for you. You knew that he did consider you to be a friend. After all, you did spend a lot of time together for you to just be named an acquaintance.

It was just that his efforts towards you paled in comparison to those directed towards her.

It also didn't help that he trusted you enough that he knew you'd not betray him, or his feelings that even he himself was kind of oblivious about. It was obvious to you both that he had certain questionable feelings, definitely not of the platonic type, towards her but you knew him well enough to know he'd rather ignore them for the sake of his sanity. At the cost of your own, you admit.

You were the one he cried to about things related to her, you were the one who knew that he was actually completely whipped for her. Not that he was good at hiding it, just about everyone could see it. It was just that you were the only one who was aware of the extent of it.

Sometimes you were sick of playing the adult. Sometimes you wanted to shake him out of this stupid mess he called his feelings. Sometimes you wanted to scream at him, of how you wanted out.

Out of everything that you never wanted to get yourself into.

Sometimes, you wanted him to just get over himself and confess, after all, atleast then you didn't have to see him pine around for someone else.

The rest of the time you were content about being there for him, regardless of the toll it took on your emotions.

Something is better than nothing, right?

And while you were torturing yourself with their roundabout pining, you'd rather be the first to find out if they ever decided to commit. At least you could get the time to prepare your poor, poor heart for when you'd have to break the reality to it.

The same heart, that despite the torturous wait, still hoped that he'd look your way. That he'd find that what he was looking for all this while, was actually right next to him.

That your efforts would be rewarded.

They had to be, right?

No deity was cruel enough to let all those efforts, those feelings, those thoughts, those tears, be for nothing, right?

Your mind said otherwise, but your foolish heart stubbornly kept on believing.

You knew, heartbreak was the only outcome of this stupid situation that you'd gotten yourself into.

You just hoped that when the time came, they would be kind enough to break it cleanly into two, rather than shatter it completely into tiny pieces.

At least it would be easier to put it back together.

Hopefully, anyways.

[paloma-ascends-into-hellfire]

eating disorder harm reduction

no one ever compiled this so that it what we are doing today. for people with eds and people whose loved ones do. please note: i’m not a doctor. this is a compilation of things from books and ed resource sites.

for people whose loved ones have an eating disorder:

try to make sure they know these things.

try not to force them to eat, they might feel uncomfortable eating in front of people. also, risk of refeeding syndrome.

if their life is in danger and you are seeking help for them, consult the person beforehand to make sure they will be safe and give them a heads-up so that they aren’t startled (especially if they’re neurodivergent! giving them notice will aid control!)

offer them ways of controlling things aside from food - practice consent, include them in conversations, don’t talk about them behind their back, compliment their makeup or hair.

be patient. the person may be irritable from lack of sleep, feelings of depression, worthlessness, etc., or malnutrition.

keep in mind that you can’t tell if someone has an eating disorder by looking at them. people of all weights do - only 17% of anorexics are underweight - and also, men and non binary people can also have eds.

general:

drink lots of water, especially if you’re drinking lots of caffeine.

drink some electrolytes at least once a week - gatorade, electrolyte tablets, coconut water, doesn’t matter, just get it into your system.

if you are getting dizzy or flushed and can feel your heart beating, quick carbs will raise your blood sugar - sweets, bread, fruit, juice, non diet soda, whatever. keep snacks around pls.

your brain uses 400-500 calories daily. eat more than this.

take your supplements!

you still need protein, have an egg or something.

don’t take adderal or insulin unless you are actually diabetic or neurodivergent, because you are raising the price by buying them and denying access to those who need it.

throw a towel over the mirror. it’s not worth it if it’ll cause you anxiety.

try to limit disordered behaviours like body checking, purging, and weigh ins.

practice good dental hygiene.

put your scale somewhere where you have to actively look for it to weigh yourself.

avoid social media and for your sake don’t go on pro ed tiktok or tumblr or twitter or insta.

get a buddy who also struggles with the same thing if possible to support each other.

get regular medical check ups (if you can afford it)

practice things within your control - makeup, hair, clothing, etc.

push your rules - eat 5 minutes before your time, or 50 calories over your limit.

for people with restrictive disorders (e.g. anorexia):

do weight and resistance training at least twice a week to prevent musculoskeletal conditions such as osteoporosis.

don’t drink on an empty stomach.

try to put gaps between fasting periods.

don’t fast for more than 72 hours.

wear lots of layers to keep warm.

eat an extra 100-200 calories on your period if you menstruate.

have a metabolism day.

take care of your hair.

as horrifying as this is to many people, please go to the hospital if you’re experiencing heart problems or if you’re passing out for more than 30 seconds.

for people with purging disorders (e.g. bulimia):

if you would like to purge, wait 15 minutes first.

after purging: drink lots of water - the emptiness you feel is dehydration. don’t brush your teeth but rinse your mouth out, preferably with an alkaline mouthwash or baking soda mixed into water. do something you want to do, like reading a book or watching a show. don’t smoke. don’t have anything acidic. eat a banana or some chocolate or a rice cake to keep your blood sugar levels in check.

if you vomit blood or your vomit looks like coffee grounds, this is a sign of internal bleeding. you could be drowning in your own blood from a hole in your esophagus, essentially. go to the hospital or call 911/999/the emergency number in your area.

stay safe everyone. i hope this helps. also, i do not use these tags - i have them blocked - but i am using them so that people on these tags will find this because they need it most.

[suzukiblu]

Day ten of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

The waitress comes over with another steaming mug of hot chocolate for Kon and Tim awkwardly orders not-Robin's-coffee-order, which since he's panicking he defaults to Caroline Hill's usual for. She's a med student, she drinks enough caffeine for his tastes. And also she likes extremely sugary drinks, which is definitely to his taste. 

Look, Robin can't drink an iced brown sugar oat milk espresso with six extra pumps of syrup and four extra shots of espresso, especially in front of the exact teammate who would tease him the most mercilessly for having a finicky drink order, but Caroline Hill can drink anything she wants, and Tim Drake is just gonna be channeling her for this conversation, he guesses. Her Twitter account already got him here to begin with, so he might as well.

“That is a concerning amount of caffeine in one drink, dude,” Kon observes with a raised eyebrow instead of teasing him over either the syrup or oat milk, which is not actually what Tim expected to hear. But, well, he's not Robin right now, so maybe Kon isn't feeling the same urge to start shit that he usually seems to. 

Tim's not sure how to feel about that. But Robin is, technically, an “authority” figure and a fellow superhero, and Tim Drake is just some guy, so . . . 

Actually, Tim doesn't really know how Kon gets along with civilian guys. He's seen him flirt up plenty of civilian girls, obviously, but he doesn't really seem to talk to all that many guys. Like . . . ever, actually. 

Weird, he thinks, repressing a frown. 

“How would you know, you're Kryptonian,” he says. 

“Half-Kryptonian,” Kon says, then waves a hand around the café. “And like, you know, also this entire planet is full of people who can just tell me these things. Five thousand milligrams is the minimum lethal dose of caffeine for a healthy adult, which is something like seventy-five shots of espresso, but more than four or five shots in a day is still not gonna be great for you, and you just ordered six.”

“. . . how the hell do you just know that off the top of your head?” Tim asks, blinking at him in absolute bewilderment, and Kon smirks in smug amusement.

“Dude, I was programmed by exhausted grad students pulling six months straight of all-nighters,” he says, pointing at his own temple. “I know every possible thing there is to know about every possible caffeine delivery system. Including the illegal ones and the ones the government hasn't yet realized should be illegal.” 

“Huh,” Tim says, still more than a little bewildered. That does make sense, he guesses, but since Kon's already told the team he has absolutely no useful background in any kind of science or math past the absolute kiddie-level basics when they were all exchanging information about all their personal training and experience, it's still a surprise to hear. Shouldn't Cadmus have prioritized an actual education over things like safe caffeine intake for baseline humans, especially since Kon's safe intake level is probably different from a baseline human's anyway? Which–well, he guesses Kon did get cracked out of his cloning tube early, but still. They at least should've been building up the basics for him. Like–more than the kiddie-level basics, he means. 

Cadmus is definitely not capable enough to be in charge of Kon. Like, at all. Ever. Tim has fewer and fewer regrets about this whole plan every minute, in fact. If anything, he should've started drafting it the day he met Rex Leech, never mind the fact that Kon hadn't technically existed yet at the time. Or after the Poison Ivy incident, maybe. At the least he should've done up an outline or two after he and Kon and Bart had helped Suzie escape recapture and then collectively lied to the government about it.

“You work for those guys, right?” he “asks” as Kon takes a sip of his new hot chocolate, because while the best time to start this whole plan was months ago, the second-best time to start it is now. “Project Cadmus?” 

"Yeah," Kon replies, looking a little surprised by the question. Tim reminds himself to con the team into brushing up on the superhero version of stranger danger, because Kon answered that question way too easily. "Well, just started to. I'm a field agent. How'd you know?” 

"I've done some research on you since we first met," Tim says, which isn't even a lie; just some careful phrasing. "I really appreciated what you did for me. And to be honest, I think we'd get along."

"Oh yeah? Tell me all about it," Kon says as his posture shifts a little and he flashes him the kind of smirk he normally reserves for, well . . . 

Huh, Tim thinks in vague bemusement.

Kon's flirting with him. 

. . . huh. 

Not actually the angle Tim was intending to take here, but . . . well, he's not above taking it. And anyway, Kon's just a flirt in general, so it's not like it means anything. 

Admittedly Tim hasn't actually seen him flirt with a guy before, but presumably Kon's just feeling out an opportunity to experiment or not ready to be out to the team yet. Tim's not, so he'd hardly blame him for that. Tim's not even out to Steph.

And he's definitely, definitely not out to Bruce. 

Well, ideally he'll be a supervillain before that becomes necessary, assuming his life goes to plan. 

Robin was always going to be a temporary gig, after all. 

"I don't know," he says, and lets the corners of his mouth curl up in amusement. "You just seem like my type of guy." 

"Your type of guy?" Kon says, his smirk widening as he leans in towards Tim, who decides to pretend that particular bit of flirtatious implication was actually intentional. Tim is . . . not all that great at flirting, admittedly, but it's not like Kon has particularly high standards past “didn't explicitly tell me to fuck off”, so Tim figures he'll be able to get by for long enough to have this conversation. 

Not much longer, but all the same. He has a plan to pitch, that's all that actually matters here. 

“Yeah,” he says. “And I wanted to thank you for saving me, so . . .” 

“You wanna thank me, Tim Drake?” Kon asks with a slower, wider smirk, leaning in a little more again, and Tim instantly turns bright red as he realizes how that actually sounded. 

Yeah, okay, he is actually the worst at flirting. Fuck. 

“Uh, yes!” he says quickly, very much needing to clarify that statement before his stupid fucking hormones try to talk him into maybe just . . . leaning into that particular miscommunication a little. Not the goal here. Definitely not. “I mean–being a field agent doesn't sound particularly lucrative? And I know being a superhero isn't.” 

“Lucrative?” Kon blinks, expression turning puzzled. “I mean, I guess not. I don't need that much money or anything, though, I just live at Cadmus these days.” 

“You live in a lab?” Tim says, letting himself sound as incredulously horrified as he felt the first time he heard that. “Why?” 

“I dunno, saves me a commute,” Kon replies with a shrug. “Also, like, it's not like I have a credit score to get my own place with. Or a legal identity. Or, you know, money. Landlords tend to want those.” 

“Hm,” Tim says. “Do you want one?” 

“Huh?” Kon wrinkles his nose in confusion. 

“Your own place,” Tim clarifies. “I really would like to thank you. I could help you get a place.” 

“Uh, thanks? But I still couldn't afford rent, even if somebody cosigned for me or whatever,” Kon says, looking puzzled. “I really don't make that much.”

“No, I mean I'd pay your rent,” Tim explains, which is in fact an insane person thing to offer somebody, admittedly, but it's not like Kon has all that reliable a grasp of normal social mores. “Or just buy you a place outright and pay your property taxes. Whichever you'd prefer.”

Kon blinks. Tilts his head. 

“So like, you're just a very extra dude, huh,” he says after a moment, his eyebrows slowly raising as he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. “Like you're the guy who blows the budget on the friend group's Secret Santa out of the water every year.”

“Possibly,” Tim says, putting on a sheepish smile. Kon laughs and folds his arms on the table, looking amused. 

“You wanna buy me an apartment?” he asks. “What, just for saving your life?” 

“I really think you're undervaluing that particular achievement,” Tim says. 

“I think you're overvaluing it,” Kon replies with another laugh. “No offense, but I didn't do anything but block one lousy bullet.” 

“One lousy bullet is enough,” Tim says, and doesn't think of any bodies he's seen. Kon tilts his head again, then takes a sip of his hot chocolate. 

“Okay, fair,” he allows. “But I'm bulletproof.” 

“I'm not,” Tim says. 

“You were as long as I was touching the same floor as you,” Kon replies with a shrug, and takes another sip. “It wasn't like I did anything hard.” 

He hasn't actually said “no” to the apartment. Tim's pretty sure that's just because he thinks he's either ridiculous or just not being serious, but he's not above pressing the advantage anyway. 

“You didn't have to do anything at all, though,” he says. "And buying you a place wouldn't be all that hard for me either. Besides, you deserve a little gratitude for your efforts, don't you think?” 

"Sounds like supervillain talk, dude," Kon says, his mouth quirking in amusement around his next sip. Tim resolves to dial back on that at this point in his career. He's laying groundwork, yes, but subtlety is still the wiser course of action. 

"You say that like you've never socialized with a supervillain before," he counters dryly. 

"Well, usually ones who wear a bit less," Kon replies, lowering his mug to grin wickedly at him. Tim figures if a little more flirting might soften him up on this whole idea, well . . . 

It's not the most altruistic thing he's ever done for a plan, admittedly, but if it works, it works. 

"So you're telling me I should invest in a crop top before I try to take over the world and remake it in my own image?" he asks still more dryly as he raises an eyebrow at Kon with a little smirk, and Kon laughs and leans in a little closer again, giving him a not very subtle up-and-down with his eyes. 

"Only if you're trying to recruit me for your evil plans, pretty boy," he says, grin turning sharp. Tim feels vaguely faint, and also wants to lick the bastard's stupid perfect teeth. Jesus. "So I dunno, what are your feelings on Daisy Dukes?" 

"I'm going to be honest, I'm not actually that much of an exhibitionist so at this point we're just describing my ideal costume updates for you," Tim informs him. 

"Oh yeah?" Kon asks with another laugh even as he straightens back up to visibly preen at the suggestion. Tim is all for that, personally. Both the preening and the theoretical updates, in fact. And, a little more weirdly, just the idea of having anything whatsoever to do with what Kon might ever decide to wear. Especially whatever he might decide to wear for his costume. 

Yeah, that's probably a later thought, Tim decides. Like, a private-time kind of later thought. Specifically “behind locked doors in an empty house” private-time, actually.

"You're solar-powered, aren't you?" he says reasonably, because apparently he likes to suffer and also make himself low-key insane. "Showing a bit more skin can't hurt." 

"I wonder if Superman would buy that excuse," Kon says musingly. 

"Power Girl exists," Tim replies still more reasonably. "And Supergirl wears a miniskirt, last I checked." 

"Valid," Kon says, putting on a mock-thoughtful expression and tapping the side of his jaw. "Maybe I'll put in some cutouts and go for a lower neckline, tell the big guy he's making the rest of us look like prudes. What do you think, bikini or high-cut bottoms?"

"I don't know the difference," Tim lies, desperately trying not to overheat and die at that question and every single accompanying mental image that his useless brain has so helpfully decided to supply. "You'll have to provide examples."

"Will I now," Kon says, grinning all over again and pointedly striking a very suggestive pose in his seat. Tim valiantly struggles not to melt. "What, pretty boy, you want a fashion show?" 

"Well I did want to be a photographer when I was a kid," Tim says, although it was definitely never that kind of photography he had in mind. Kon laughs again and shifts in closer again, though, so it's worth it. Tim is mortified, but also undeniably into just . . . all of this, really, just everything about this conversation. Robin can't flirt with Superboy, but, well . . . Tim Drake still isn't Robin, now is he? 

He's probably taking advantage of the situation a little, Tim can admit to himself, but it's still just . . . nice. He's wanted to flirt with Kon for way too long, at this point. Indulging in a little bit of it isn't the worst thing he could do. 

And again, it's Kon, so it's not like it's serious or anything. The guy won't even remember this conversation tomorrow, much less anything about Tim Drake. 

. . . admittedly that'd be counterproductive to Tim's long-term goals here, but still. He's willing to take his time on this. There's a plan. It has steps. Layers. Processes. 

"I like you, man," Kon says with a wider grin, which is in absolutely no way whatsoever in the plan. "You're funny."

Tim stares blankly at him as it occurs to him, almost disbelievingly, that he might've . . . made a good impression on Kon? Somehow? 

Well, that's weird.

"I'll never get a fashion show out of you if I'm not at least funny," he says on autopilot, as someone who's been well-taught both when and how to press an advantage. Kon, yet again, grins at him, and gives him another much brighter laugh than usual. 

Actually, he kind of hasn't stopped grinning at him, has he. 

Huh. 

. . . huh. 

Tim really did not plan for this. This is just . . . not at all what the plan was. 

“Well, you definitely are funny,” Kon says, biting his lip around a warm little smile and ducking his head just enough to look at Tim from under his lashes, and Tim decides he can probably just amend the plan.

He's a Bat, isn't he? They know how to improvise when they have to.

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab (18)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning:

Things as they should have been

A/N:

Thanks for patiently waiting! I had a safe and easy flight, but the jet lag was a real troublemaker. But now I'm back, less brain foggy and ready to type. Without further ado, here is the next part!

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! I'd also greatly appreciate it if rebloggers remember to add the tags (or some at least).

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

Another day, another round of unreasonable customers not paying attention to the orders that are being called, and another coffee order from the caffeine fiend who has been showing up almost daily. The handsome young man caused quite the stir with the female employees, each rushing to be the one to take his order, only to be rejected. There was only one person he ordered from, and the one barista was Y/N. She did not know why or when this little routine started, but it was well known throughout the shifts. One customer came in on days only Y/N was in and only ever ordered from her. The idea would have been flattering if his level of consumption was not so concerning, and him obviously being younger than her and well off.

And he’s another Wayne. I think I’ve officially had it with Waynes. She let out a heavy sigh as she rang up her current customer. How long had it been since she last saw Jason? She wondered for the seventh time, looking at the digital date on the register. That awkwardly magical night to end it all was now two weeks behind her and not a single word from him. To be fair, I haven’t exactly reached out either, but what am I supposed to even say? I didn’t exactly ask him for pocket change, and he paid for dinner and made sure I was inside the building safe. Could he have just not been so great so that I could continue to hate him for some reason and move on with my life? It’s all his fault, clearly! She grabbed a cup, stuck on the label, and placed it in the queue before moving onto the next customer. 

Citlalli heard her sigh again and visibly frowned. The night Y/N came back with the money was a shock. The two of them stared at her phone and refreshed the app screen several times, expecting it to all vanish like it was some sort of glitch and error. Come the next day, it was still very much there, which meant they were now debt free. They refused to celebrate just yet. Y/N transferred the money to her bank, it cleared in a few days. Y/N called the hotel and paid the rest of the charges over the phone. The hotel register must have been ancient because it felt like forever until the little ding sounded to let everyone know the transaction was completed. A copy of the receipt was emailed and with that, it was done. Seeing the bill as paid in full was such a sight to behold that Citlalli even began to tear up. They were back to where they were before the coffee fiasco, which was far better than being behind. 

Everything was back to as it should be, or it should have been. Y/N was different. She was more relaxed now that she could drop a good number of shifts and others could cover, but there was a listlessness to her. Her motions were robotic, and she barely reacted to crazy customers who were prone to yelling or causing a scene. If anything, her lack of reaction made the tantrum thrower feel awkward, and they quietly just moved along. Maybe it was an adrenaline crash? A constant flight or fight mode was finally shut off and her body was simply trying to recover. The last time she had seen her like this was the time her cousin got them tangled with the Penguin. Citlalli was no better, the two did what needed to be done to keep the bills paid and their heads on their shoulders. 

“Oi, chica, I’ve been calling your name for the last ten minutes!” She snapped her fingers in front of Y/N’s face. “Are you going to give me an answer or what?!”

“Huh, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” She jerked her head back as the sharp sound brought her senses back into focus. The long day of work had come to an end and neither of the two were on the night shift, so they returned home and began to relax and unwind. “Answer what?”

“Where did you get these and when were you going to tell me?!” She firmly tapped her finger on two identical rectangular pieces of paper that magically appeared on the coffee table. They were not just simple waxy slips, either. They were a nice weight that had a lovely deign with a date and time stamped on each with the name of an upcoming charity gala printed in cursive and the famous W logo of Wayne Enterprises Inc. 

“Ah, those, well, those came from Nightwing when he left me a tip. I don’t think he meant to give them? At least, that’s the only thing that makes sense. I’m sure Bruce Wayne meant for him to have them to attend. I just don’t know how to go about returning them. How does one call a nighttime vigilante without lighting up the sky with the Bat Signal?” She pointed out the issue she was in.

“Three weeks,” Citlalli scowled. “Nearly a month of holding onto these, and you never once thought to tell me?! They were just laying there on the kitchen floor near the trash! Were you going to throw them out?!” She shoved her face in front of Y/N’s, their noses mere inches from touching. 

“I wasn’t planning to throw them out, but like I said, there’s no way to return them!” Y/N moved her head back.

“¡Ay, ay, ay!” She stood back and hit the heel of her free palm into her forehead a few times. “We could use them! We could go! This could be how we celebrate finally being debt free!” Citlalli grabbed the two tickets and waved them at Y/N. “This is fate, it was meant to be! ¡Por Dios!” She once again dove into a flurry of Spanish as she paced up and down the small living room. From the way she waved her arms around, twirled, Y/N could only gather that the frenzied energy was excitement.

“Cici,” she firmly called out to her overly energized friend for the umpteenth time. “Don't you think these tickets are tracked? That Bruce Wayne would know which ticket is whose? So, when someone tries to use someone else's, they can cross-reference. And even if by some unknown luck, they let it slide, for whatever reason; and we take the leap and attend, we don't have anything to wear aside from old catering uniforms and whatever dresses we have for parties and dates. I’m not trying to be the buzzkill, but we’re not equipped for this.”

Citlalli looked between Y/N and the tickets several times before coming around the table and flopping down onto the couch with a heavy sigh of defeat. Y/N could only sadly smile at the scene. It hurt to burst the bubble, but it needed to be done. A somber silence filled the apartment, broken only by the noise from their neighbors or some troublemakers outside. They could officially forget about this and move on.

“My abuela can help us. She’s a great seamstress, and my tía Maribel and tía Estrella have their own boutique. It’s nowhere near Wayne level price tags, but they make good money and live in a safer city. They made my and all my cousins quinceañera dresses, too. I’m sure they can come up with something for this, or at least let us borrow two dresses for the evening.” Citlalli sat up and looked straight at Y/N.

“You’re really not going to let this go, huh?” Y/N could only sigh and shake her head. “The party is in two weeks. When will we have the time to go and try on dresses between work and my pending call to come into the precinct for a formal interview?”

“Mr. B owes us for covering all those shifts he had no one to cover for. He’ll be grateful we took off unpaid so he doesn't have to pay us as much overtime.” She rolled her eyes. “My family will even open the shop after hours just for us to look, we don't need to go during the work hours. We can buy roundtrip train tickets and spend the night there. We might not even have to call off work either, we can swap shifts with someone! This is perfect! Ok, that's what we’ll do! I'm going to go call my family and see what days are best!” Once again, Citlalli was off running and Y/N was left speechless and trying to figure out how they went from reason to a whole thought out plan.

You know what, why not? It doesn’t hurt to try. If she really wanted to go, I was going to suggest checking some consignment shops or thrift stores in the richer parts of the city. We can use that plan as backup, though. She gets to see her grandmother this way and I can say hi to her family as well. She smiled while watching Citlalli’s face light up while talking in Spanish to her family on the phone. Y/N was willing to deal with the Waynes if it meant her best friend would be happy. It’s the least I can do for all her family has done for me over the years, trouble aside.

It was done. There was nothing left to do and there was no reason to ever see her again unless he wanted to go get coffee. He was not against coffee, but he was not an addict like someone he knew. He glanced at the door as Tim walked in with a rather large cup. Jason frowned to himself, looking back down at his book, but his gaze quickly snapped back up to the third Robin. He knew that logo, it was the logo of the cafe Y/N worked at.

Why would he go all the way over there for a cup of coffee? Did he realize I kept going there for them? No, I only did that twice. He can’t have caught on to anything from just that no matter how smart he is. Maybe he liked it? It’s a popular place and he may have been scouting the area. He stared at the cup, almost glaring at it. Must be mice to not have a reason to go there and see her without a care in teh world.

“What?” Tim’s voice cut off his jealous thoughts. The second Wayne son raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re the one giving a death glare to my coffee, I think I have a right to know why.”

“I’m trying to figure out what number this one is for the day. Your coffee addiction is just starting to get concerning.” He retorted.

“I’m not a coffee ‘addict’,” Tim took a rather loud sip of his drink to punctuate his point. “I’m a caffeine-based life form and as such, I must honor the ways of my people.”“By drinking your three times your weight in coffee?” Jason snorted as he tried to stop from laughing. Caffeine-based life form? She’d get a kick out of that one. I wonder, has he met her? A sharp, stabbing pain suddenly pierced his chest.“Who am I to get between you and your crazy cult? Chug away,”  he slightly bowed his head in respect. Tim nodded in return and left the room. Jason gently rubbed the spot above his heart, frowning once more. Must be nice indeed.

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali @antiquecultist

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲: easy tips to form healthy habits ( based on this alessya farrugia video )

lately i've been having trouble being productive and finding a healthy balance between study, passions, exercise and free time. i've been searching for a long time online for advices and ideas that could help me find my serenity, and my searches led me to this. i hope you appreciate it.

pro tip do not try to improve everything all at once, you're gonna fail. just try to incorporate something small in your routine to start forming healthy habits. it might take months, but one year from now it will all be worthy.

𝟭. don't hit snooze ( ⏰ )

the "snooze" button is definitely my worst enemy, i simply don't want to get up and start a new day that will be tiring and hard, but when i realized the reasons why putting off the alarm is so harmful for me i seriously started to stop doing it. you will actually wake up even more tired and sleep-deprived after the second or third alarm goes off, since falling back to sleep after having already woken up causes your brain to begin a new "sleep cycle" that takes 75 minutes to complete, abruptly interrupting these cycles brings unpleasant side effects such as tiredness, irritability and headaches.

bonus start waking up at the same time every day, this will not only help consolidate your routine but is scientifically proven that it significantly reduces levels of anxiety and depression.

𝟮. don't check your phone (📱)

i've always spent at least an hour scrolling through social media right after waking up every day, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it's not exactly the healthiest thing in the world. do not go on your phone for at least 30min/1h after waking up. i know it seems hard ( i have a severe phone addiction so i understand ) but i guarantee you that your days will be so much more stress free and productive. why? going on your phone as soon as you wake up gives you an instant hit of dopamine ( for more info, check this post ) that is gonna literally ruin your day, because your brain is gonna pretend more and more dopamine for the rest of the day in order to function properly.

𝟯. have a glass of water ( 🫗 )

you didn't drink for 8 hours or more so it's time to rehydrate your body. i hate drinking water as soon as i wake up so you can try adding some lemon juice to give it more taste, you can also try some herbal tea if it's winter and you don't feel like drinking cold water first thing in the morning, but avoid caffeine ( and theine ) for at least one hour after waking up. exactly like the hit of dopamine that your phone gives you, caffeine and similar stimulants will have the same effect on your body.

𝟰. have a cold shower ( 🚿 )

ok, i'm not one of those gurus who tells you to get up at 5 in the morning, take an ice bath and run 12 km before 7am, but switching to cold water for the last two minutes of your morning shower will have some benefits invaluable for you and your body. first of all it helps to wake you up, because it stimulates the nerve endings and makes the brain more active, it also helps to tone the skin and make the hair shinier. it's a difficult thing, but doing something like this in the morning will help your brain cope better with the workload during the day. it also reduces stress and anxiety, since the cold can activate the production of endorphins ( known as "happy hormones" ).

𝟱. physical and mental care ( 💕 )

take five or ten minutes to just look after yourself, do skincare - it doesn't have to be a deep session, just a little moisturizer and lip balm -, meditate, journal, cut out a few minutes from your morning routine where you leave out for a while all the negative thoughts, stress and anxiety, your body is your temple and you must treat it with reverence, your mind is your home, your safe place, and deserves your attention.

𝟲. get direct sunlight ( ☀️ )

apply some sunscreen and go get some sunlight, the benefits are so many that i couldn't list them all: i quote, production of vitamin D ( very important especially if you are a woman ), improved mood and, in general, physical and mental health, sleep regulation, improved skin. i know it's not always possible, especially in winter when there is very little sun, but for example if you have the chance to walk to school or work on a beautiful sunny spring day, take it!

𝟳. make the bed ( 🛏️ )

why should i make my bed if i'm going to have to sleep in it in the evening anyway? well, this is the mistake that i very often make and i admit that i am guilty of it. however, not making the bed is exactly the reason that pushes me to go back there immediately and sleep again. making your bed in the morning as an act of discipline will not only improve your self-esteem and make you less want to go back to sleep, but it will make your room seem cleaner and generally improve your environment, making you feel more productive and satisfied. completing that little task in the morning, even if it's small and simple, will give you motivation and will push you through the day.

𝟴. high-proteine breakfast ( 🥞 )

make sure you eat a balanced, protein-rich breakfast that will keep you feeling full until your next meal. it is useless to limit calories especially in the morning when we need an extra boost, this will only make us feel more tired and irritable and will significantly decrease our productivity.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Help! I think my timelord has a fever? I can't tell 100% but they don't look good. Do I need a special thermometer to check? (Where do I buy/find one?) What do I do??

Gallifreyan Pyrexia

Disclaimer: This guide is not suitable for humans. Always consult your human medical people.

🌡️ Checking Temperature

First things first, you don’t need a special thermometer to check your Time Lord’s temperature—a human one will do just fine. Here are some key points to remember:

Every Gallifreyan will have their own normal temperature baseline, somewhere between 15-19°C (59-66.2°F).

This shouldn't deviate by more than 2-3 degrees.

If their temperature rises above 19°C (66.2°F), they could be suffering from hyperthermia.

📋 Recognising Hyperthermia

Hyperthermia occurs when their body temperature exceeds 19°C (66.2°F), potentially leading to heatstroke and other serious complications. Signs and symptoms include:

Flushed Skin: The skin may appear red and feel hot to the touch.

Sweating: While not as common as in humans, excessive sweating may occur.

Weakness: A general feeling of fatigue or weakness.

Dizziness and Confusion: Disorientation and dizziness can be significant signs.

Rapid Heart Rate: Increased heart rate can accompany the rise in temperature.

Nausea and Vomiting: Digestive upset can be a symptom of severe hyperthermia.

🏡 Home Treatment for Hyperthermia

If your Time Lord shows signs of hyperthermia, here’s what you can do at home:

Move to a Cooler Environment: Get them out of the heat and into a cooler, shaded area immediately.

Hydration: Encourage them to drink cool, non-alcoholic fluids. Water is best. Avoid caffeine.

Cool Compresses: Apply cool, damp cloths to their forehead, neck, armpits, and groin.

Fan Air: Use a fan to circulate air around them or gently fan them to increase evaporative cooling.

Remove Excess Clothing: Help them remove any excess clothing to allow their body to cool down more effectively.

🚑 When to Seek Immediate Help

Temperature above 19°C (66.2°F)

Unresponsiveness or severe confusion

Severe vomiting or inability to keep fluids down

Signs of shock (rapid heartbeat, low blood pressure, clammy skin)

You suspect Sepsis (Refer to the Guide Sepsis Emergency Response (SER))

🏥 Advanced Treatment Guide

If home treatments are not effective or the patient's temperature is rising rapidly, seek medical attention immediately. If you're in a TARDIS, the medbay has an automated interface that can guide you through these next steps.

📋 Assessment

Initial Assessment: Check vital signs, including heart rate, respiratory rate, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation. For a detailed scoring system, refer to the Guide Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System (GASS).

Continuous Assessment: Continuously monitor body temperature and vital signs. Use an accurate thermometer capable of reading low temperatures.

🧊 Cooling Methods

IV Fluids: Start intravenous (IV) fluids immediately to rehydrate and cool the body from the inside.

Cooling Blankets: Use cooling blankets or pads to lower body temperature. Ensure these are set to a safe temperature to avoid overcooling.

Ice Packs: Place ice packs in the axillae (armpits), groin, and neck to rapidly reduce core body temperature.

Evaporative Cooling: Use misting fans and cool water sprays to enhance evaporative cooling.

💊 Medications

If deemed appropriate by a medical professional/the TARDIS medbay computer:

Antipyretics: Administer antipyretics to help lower fever.

Anticonvulsants: Administer anticonvulsants to help reduce risk of seizures.

Sedation: In severe cases, sedation might be necessary to control agitation and allow for more effective cooling.

🖥️ Monitoring and Support

Electrolyte Monitoring: Regularly check electrolyte levels, as hyperthermia can cause imbalances.

Cardiac Monitoring: Continuous cardiac monitoring is crucial due to the risk of arrhythmias. Refer to the Guide Gallifreyan CPR for reviving a Gallifreyan in case of cardiac arrest.

Neurological Checks: Regular neurological assessments to monitor for signs of brain damage or seizures.

Mechanical Ventilation: If respiratory distress or failure occurs, mechanical ventilation may be necessary. Follow the ABCDE Assessment Guide to quickly assess and treat a sick Gallifreyan.

🚑 Post-Emergency Care

Once the immediate threat is over, following up with a specialised Gallifreyan medic is vital. Your Gallifreyan might need specific treatments to fully recover and prevent future incidents.

Remember, while these steps provide a general guide, each situation is unique. Always prioritise professional medical advice when available.

Medical Guides These are all practical guides to assessing and treating a Gallifreyan in an emergency.

📓|⚕️Gallifreyan CPR: Guide for reviving a Gallifreyan in cardiac arrest.

📓|⚕️Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System (GASS): Guide for assessing vital signs.

📓|⚕️ABCDE Assessment: Guide for quickly assessing and treating a sick Gallifreyan.

📓|⚕️Sepsis Emergency Response (SER): Guide for identifying and treating sepsis.

📓|⚕️Gallifreyan Pyrexia: Guide for assessment and treatment of fevers in Gallifreyans.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →���️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴