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thisthatpinkvenom · 2 years ago

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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."

#ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #choi san smut #ateez san smut #san smut #kpop smut

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thebibliosphere · 3 months ago

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Hey! I know that this isn't something you struggle with but since a lot of your other followers are disabled as well, it would mean a lot to me if you could publish this ask since I'd like to see if anyone else experiences anything similar to what I'm going through. I'm not asking for anyone to armchair diagnose me, I'd just appreciate not feeling so alone and scared and confused. My general physician is claiming that my anxiety is causing the issues I'll describe but I call bullshit on that:

About two years ago, cca 4 months after my top surgery, my body stopped being able to process oil. Whenever I'd eat anything that was made with oil of any kind, I'd get cramps in the abdomen after a while and I'd get diarrhea. Caffeine started to do this also but in a smaller intensity. I had a hysterectomy a bit after that and they checked my kidneys and liver so I know that those are both ok and not the cause. I also got checked for Celiac since it runs in the family. Because the issue wasn't getting worse and my then general physician was always dismissive, I let it be. When I wasn't having diarrhea, I was constipated, though I did have a bowel movement like once or twice a week. Fast forward to now. In August, it suddenly got a lot worse. At first, even a single drop of oil would make me feel ill. Then, the time period got longer - currently the cramps and the pain last for 48 hours afterwards. I also became unable to digest animal fats, the only meat I can eat is lean chicken and fish. Afterwards, gluten became an issue (Celiac is still negative), and then nuts as well.

My new GP, even though she believes it to be anxiety, gave me Itopride, and it worked for about 3 weeks - I had no cramps, pain, exhaustion, gas or bloating after eating, and I had a bowel movement once a day. But it stopped working two days ago, again without a reason, and the effects started being less effective about a week ago. Even when taking the meds, I have a movement only once in about 8 days, and laxatives make me gassy but nothing happens. I'm also not sure about this, but it seems that chicken is no longer safe either.

I think it's important that if I don't take Itopride, I never even feel the urge to go, so when I say that I've always been constipated, I mean that I don't even feel the need to have a movement. Lately, when I take Itopride, I do get the urge that I do always get when taking it, but it's like I can't go, so I always feel full.

I just feel super scared and I have no idea what's going on. I admit that I have a history of eating disorders (in recovery since May) and I did abuse laxatives about a year ago, but I don't think it was enough to cause such serious issues? I used to take them like once a week and for about 3-4 months.

I'd really appreciate knowing if anyone has ever experienced anything similar or knows about anything like this because I feel like my life is in shambles - can't go outside for long because I might need the toilet suddenly, or I'm in too much pain to walk, I'm afraid to eat, I often feel repulsive, I don't know what might happen in a month, I am becoming incapable of taking care of myself and my flat because I'm just so goddamn tired.

Ooft, I’m sorry. It sounds like you’ll need a colonoscopy to figure this one out, so if you haven’t had one yet, really push for a referral.

Fwiw, I do experience something like this, but it’s from mast cell inflammation in my GI tract. The doc prescribed me bentyl for when things flare up but I’m also on a fiber supplement (citrucel. It’s a lot gentler than other types) to try and keep that from happening. Also if you’re low on b vitamins, your stomach sometimes stops digesting food, so maybe also ask about getting your levels checked. Taking an additional b2 supplement means I can process fats and oils again which I couldn’t before.

I’m not saying this to be like “this is what you have” just throwing them out there as suggestions that might help you piece together what might be wrong.

I hope you get more helpful comments in the notes 💖

#chronic health tag #eating disorders #gi health

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ithebookhoarder · 10 months ago

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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 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

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hummingjay · 2 months ago

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Random Replika headcanons because replikas are cute

Aras spend a lot of time crawling in vents, so their upper body strength is next level. They're also really good climbers. Also, when they do climb, they use overly smooth movements, like walking without bobbing up and down, mostly so they don't jarringly drop a tool on a belt, but this freaks others out. Some Aras find the smell of exhaust comforting, but not in the vents. It's like hearing bugs and animals in the forest: Comforting and safe-feeling in the forest, but a deer cry in the city is disconcerting. They also have excellent night vision, even though they carry flashlights. Kolibris are almost entirely immune to caffeine. Lots of sweet tea, so they're hyper which helps a heck-ton with keeping up with Storches and other taller fellas. Aras either love or hate hanging with them depending on the Ara or Kolibri, since on one hand Kolibris can get past their stoic demeanor and on the other Aras can't really keep to themselves. Uncannily good at close quarters combat, despite small stature. Goes for the crotch hard and often. They mainly use bioresonance for non-combat means, as overuse causes headaches and nosebleeds. If a kolibiri does try to kill with bioresonance, it is extremely painful for both parties, ending with ears, eyes, and nose bleeding, and sometimes so painful victims attempt ending themselves partly through. This usually only happens on accident, when a Kolibri is extremely unstable, Storches favorite drink is unironically water. I love water too so no hate. They like watching Aras climb since it reminds them of a spider, which they find cute, especially when Aras carry wire with them. In every cadre at least one (1) Starling has snorted gunpowder at one point. Both Starlings and Storches have built in ear protection for gunshots.

Elsters are also stoic and when given the chance hang out with Aras, sometimes only talking about mechanics. Because Eules are friendly, patient, and can read Aras faces, they eventually get close and an Ara may give access to vents or plants. This is the equivalent of a platonic (or not) wedding ring.

If an Ara decides you're unkind and shares this info with the cadre, it's not just a silent treatment. If you're mean enough, floors will come loose, doors will randomly malfunction, your service requests will remain unanswered just until Adler is about to file a performance complaint, and lights will randomly turn off. If anyone tries to bully a Mynah in any way will face consequences, severe ones. The culprit behind this could be literally anyone except Mynah, and consequences vary depending on the culprit, from ostracizing to being 'accidentally' locked in a room, to being straight up beaten up, and sometimes if the bullying is bad enough high ranking units will opt for decomissioning for 'disrupting workflow' and 'assault on a worker'. Once Storches get past their sadistic tendencies they're actually really fun to hang around and converse with, especially on literature on mythology and warfare. Odd fascination on Sisyphus but it's debated between Storches on wether he's happy or not. Adlers write and they write well. Handwriting on point, but they rarely write in cursive. Because they're sticklers for the rules not all Replikas like them too much, but as long as you comply with regulations they're relaxed guys who enjoy talking about writing and pens. Never insult a favorite pen. They will despise you. Debating pens in a general sense is admissible and often enjoyable. Insulting their Falke can and will have them legitimately attempt to murder you with whatever is on hand, always stating that a 'crime against the nation was committed'. Adlers can forgive protocol mistakes but never forgive such a sin. So long as performance is not hindered protocol breakages are permitted. Adlers are chill with replikas and even Gestalts having relationships with each other, and sometimes covers for them. If performance drops this can change. Each one writes fictional stories about an OC that they will never talk about but Kolibris and Falkes know about anyway. Often immune to propoganda but genuinely don't care, they legitimately love the nation enough that they're okay with whatever the nation is doing. Eules will go out of their way to be nice. If you out-nice them they can and will think of it as a challenge. They sometimes place freshmade food near the kitchen vents to let the Aras know it's time to eat. Eules will use ribbon to tie bows on each others hair and arms. Falkes quickly grow extremely protective of their workers, sometimes extending this fondness to gestalts, though they always let them work most grievances out on their own. If Aras grow similarly fond of their Falke they'll report back to her like Odin's ravens.

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lingerina · 1 year ago

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀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.

#girl group smut #girl group imagines #twice smut #twice imagines #jihyo smut #jihyo imagines #SWEAT&TEARS #sorry this took so long LMFAOOO

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hereforthespideybooks · 2 months ago

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𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞.

miguel o’hara x f!reader.

✩ | info: you’re slightly cautious of what your husband intakes now, all thanks to the online web.

𝐜𝐰: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟.

𝐰𝐜: 𝟏.𝟒𝐤

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢’𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜. ✿

miguel was a half human and spider.

and ever since you found that out, it made you extra careful about his health.

you didn’t really care about how much coffee he’d intake, not anymore, since telling him to back off was just speaking to a brick wall.

but ever since that big truth about him being spiderman settled in your mind, you’ve been extra critical about his surroundings and activities.

you’ve been scrolling online per usual- coming across an article of how coffee specifically could make spiders “drunk”.

so when the pods of coffee ran out, he’d come up and ask if he could you could go grab some more.

…

“no.”

a soft yet firm tone of yours booming around the house, his facial features contorting to a visual look of confusion.

“…do you want me to go buy them myself? or-“

“what? no- miguel, you’ve been taking too much.”

he’d stand there, puzzled, his head lightly tilting from your words.

“…caffeine?”

you’d subtly nod, arms folding against your chest.

“since when did you care so much?”

his voice was a light tone of a hum, a curve forming on his lips, his large hands still grasping the porcelain mug filled with the caffeinated substance.

“since i’ve read an article online.”

his eyebrows would perk up in light interest, placing the cup down the counter.

he’d tilt his head, signaling for you to continue your sentence.

“…about how spiders can get drunk off of it.”

your voice went down a notch, fingers pressing firmly against your arms.

“…what?”

“what.”

his parted lips formed into a small smile, scoffing gently, curls of auburn hair brushing across his forehead.

“you seriously believe that?”

“i drink coffee all the time, amor. you’ve never noticed anything different about me.”

his tone was genuine, his large hands capturing the essence of the marvel counter, leaning back into the coldness of it.

“so there is something different about you when you drink coffee, hm?”

you’d speak in a skeptical voice, leaning upwards a little to look at him.

he’d shake his head, lightly sighing.

“i wasn’t exactly implying that.”

“you’re the one who said it, not me.”

“you don’t need to be so stubborn, it’s just coffee.”

you’d instantly bit the inside of your mouth, realizing about the grudge you were holding.

sure, you cared about him, a lot, was it that necessary to be cautious about it this much though?

you’d shrug that thought away mentally.

“hun?”

you’d blink back into reality, looking up at him

“hm.”

he’d let out a light hum of agreement, his fingertips tapping against the marble.

he knew you were worrying about his state.

and that made him feel safe.

reassured.

he’d smile warmly at you, taking a few steps in front of your presence and lightly crouching down.

your face level met his, reddish pupils of vermillion boring into your soft eyes, the back of his calloused hand swiping up and down on the side of your face reassuringly.

“don’t worry about me.”

your lips would part, eyes capturing every single detail of his facial features.

it was lightly silent for sometime, before your head would tilt in a thought forming inside of your mind, your soft voice echoing in his ears.

“…mig.”

“hm?”

his reply was instant.

“if the article wasn’t lying,”

“what does coffee do to you then?”

he’d press his lips together in a light line, tilting his head and shrugging one of his broad shoulders.

“well, let’s see, uhm..”

his hand continued its brushing motion on your face, the touch comforting to your skin.

your head instinctively tilting towards the warmth, while he’d think about wording the pieces together understandingly.

“sometimes my webbing gets out a little messy.”

he’d suddenly speak up, waiting for your response.

“how so?”

that was quick.

he knew you were genuinely interested in his overall wellbeing, and he liked when you were.

“the strings of the web sometimes come out.”

“…huh?”

your tone was light, before smiling a little at him.

“no- i meant like, how, show me.”

his eyebrows would lightly raise up, realizing your question.

“hm.”

he’d hum, standing up now, you face lightly tilted up to look at him.

he’d look around for a object, his eyes settling for a reddish apple across the counter.

one of his hands forming a fist, your eyes focusing as he’d grab the coffee cup with the other, taking a gulp of the liquid.

settling it down on the counter, a light wave on anxiousness hitting your body.

he’d sigh, pointing the back of his hand on the fruit, a sudden thwip of a white web spewing out of the skin behind his knuckles.

you’d notice the looseness of the strings, usually knotted- now swaying around the place.

usually they were connected in a bond in order to form a web, this time, most of them weren’t.

the light noise of a snack was audible as the webbing warped around the fruit, your head tilting in curiosity.

he’d bring the webbing back inside his hand, twisting it and grabbing the apple with his hand.

“see?”

he’d speak up, tiling his torso to fully glance at you.

your lips would leave out a light hum, arms crossing once again.

“it’s also why i don’t drink on patrol.”

“alcohol does that too?”

“what? no, i meant coffee.”

your eyebrows would furrow lightly, biting the inside of your cheek.

“you’re overthinking it.”

his tone would a soft sigh, placing the apple somewhere on the counter behind him.

“yeah, well, when your husband turns out to be half spider, i’d assume overthinking it would be a safe option.”

you could hear a light grumble off of him, placing his hands one the edge of the counter again.

it was silent again.

it was one of those moments where you both had your differences set apart.

…

“that’s all?”

you’d hum, looking up at him with the same face of curiosity you’d have before.

“hm?”

“that’s all coffee does to you?”

all he did in response was shrug his broad shoulders, his eyes locking into yours.

“i think so.”

you’d scoff.

“don’t lie.”

“you’ve been with me for years, you’d be more then aware of what happens to me if i drank coffee.”

he was right.

a small hum of subtleness laced in his tone, he wanted to be gentle.

“it’s really bothering me.”

you’d sigh, admitting towards him.

his hand went down your head, giving it a light pat, before sliding down and holding up your chin, tilting you head, forcing you to look up st him.

“i don’t wanna be a burden, corazón.”

“you’ve been with me all the time, me being spiderman shouldn’t be make a difference.”

his hand sliding down your shoulder, firming its grasp in it reassuringly.

one of your dainty hands moving and resting on top of his, squeezing his skin a little.

“it doesn’t.”

“so there’s no need to worry.”

your eyes flickered up at him, lips lightly parted.

“i know.”

yet there was still a light tinge of uncertainty in your tone, him noticing that immediately.

“…c’mere.”

his open up his large, muscular arms a little, your body falling into his presence immediately.

it was warm, a soft cuddle of affection, arms enclosing in your torso, the side of your face snuggled in his shoulder.

one of his hands reached behind the strands of your hair, snuggling into the softness of them.

“i just need you to trust me.”

he’d sigh, his raspy voice ringing in your ears.

“…okay.”

his hands went to rest on your shoulders, his body parting away from yours, arms dropping down in advance.

“you’re still not drinking coffee.”

“…did you just ignore my sentence i said less than a minute ago?”

“yeah- i’ll take your cup instead.”

with that reply, your hands would accompany your remark, grasping the cup with your qfingers, taking a light sip of the liquid.

before a light hint of disgust rose into your face.

“ugh.”

he’d smile, a light chuckle leaving his lips.

“i always forget you drink it straight up dark, tastes way too bitter.”

“and you like yours light iced, quarter cup of almond milk if you’re feeling healthy.”

“…how did you-“

“don’t question it.”

creds: (@Helenasohpiiia, @Olcrawford, @imeioe238, all on pinterest.)

#atsv miguel #spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara blurb

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paloma-ascends-into-hellfire · 10 months ago

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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.

#ed harm reduction #harm reduction #ed recovery #pro recovery #notpro4n4 #tw eating disorders #tw ed not ed sheeren #pro a4a #ana trigger #ana rant #tw anorexia #tw bulimia #anamia #⭐️ving #edhr

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cloveroctobers · 3 months ago

Text

SAVE YOUR BREATH — Armando Aretas [October Prompts] 🧡

A/N: This was inspired by the show FROM and this fic has a slight crossover with the show that I squeezed into this plot. I initially had no plans to take it further than a certain symbol. I was supposed to end it there (while also keeping this short) but I kept writing lol! If you haven’t watched you should for this season especially! Also loosely inspired by Midnight mass 🫣 & just know picking songs that fit the spooky vibe or fall aesthetic is also a job y’all 😆

S/N: If you’re a reader who’s been impacted by the hurricane(s) I hope you and your loved ones are safe during this difficult time! 🫶🏽

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: "Give me one good reason not to kill you." "I'm immortal, so…it's actually not possible." + SCENARIOS — 6. Visiting an apple orchard.

SYNOPSIS: in which Armando wants to avenge your death but your attempts to make him let it slide, brings on a new level of danger he’s not all that prepared for.

🏷️: @violetmuses + @believeinthefireflies95 + @nobodygetsza

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

Giving Armando space wasn’t really effective since he can still feel you hovering, whether you were behind him lounging against the wall and slicing up some apples to eat while you kept quiet for the most part, or just you simply letting your ghost eyes chill through him.

He’s been on his computer for weeks and didn’t want any help. Any wink of sleep he got was not something he allowed on his own, he’s been functioning off caffeine and eye drops to keep him going trying to track down your killer. Mike’s been telling him to let him handle it, since there was a part of Mike that knew Armando would be back to his old ways, especially after losing you. Now that Mike was slowly building something with his son, he didn’t want Armando to throw it all away. Which definitely brought off heated energy because who was Mike Lowrey to tell Armando how to get justice? Armando had his mother to thank for that, even in death, she was still controlling his life. It has been months since he was on the run and since you played a part in his hiding, that meant you had to serve time, whereas Mike pulled a deal for Armando to work for AMMO that would amount up to the added time he needed to serve, You got the short end of the stick.

No shock there—and to make a long story short, you gave as good as you could in prison but Armando’s mother had it planned that if something were to ever happen to her, she had people that would take you out as well, since she had this unhealthy jealousy when it came to you and Armando.

Nothing ever become of you and Armando but she saw it before you two ever had the chance to fully explore.

So when Mike had to deliver the news of your passing, Armando felt like what was left of him died.

Your relationship with his mother was also very complex. Isabel Aretas was the one who stole you from your own family at just eight years old. Nothing Isabel did made logical sense, you would think that the one person that made your child happy, you would still want your child to have some sort of happiness so that they wouldn’t be alone right? Wrong. Isabel strived to be the only one in her son’s life, out of some unresolved issues and because your bond with Armando was also strong, she wanted to take that with her as well.

It took time but it happened.

In her mind, this would make Armando the deadliest kingpin there could ever be. It builds character, which was her excuse for masking her love as manipulation. When you got away from her, you wanted Armando out too but that resulted in many things with Isabel calling you a, “ungrateful bitch,” and Armando being too blind to see how Isabel was going to get them both killed.

She almost succeeded.

“I think you should just let this go, you’re able to start this new life now. Even if you hate it, maybe it’ll be worth it.” You tried to tell Armando, who wouldn’t bring his red eyes away from the screen.

His brows furrowed as he harshly clicked around on his mouse, “No. I won’t. I’m doing this for us.”

“It’s not going to bring me back.” You state, “Karma will get them one way or another.”

“I don’t have faith in that.”

But he had the answers!

“Well maybe you should have some faith in me.”

“Maybe if you minded your business, you wouldn’t be where you’re at.” Armando snapped, which caught you off guard.

You wouldn’t make excuses for him.

That was low and he knew it because his eyes clenched not long after those words escaped his lips. “I’m sorry—

A gush of wind was all that he heard, which means that you actually left him on his own. It was for a minute too, he kept calling out to you like a crazy person in his apartment as the days went on but you wouldn’t break. Sure he was persistent but you were also very stubborn and didn’t mind making him sweat it out.

There was no way he tried to shift his mother’s actions and deem them as your fault. She took you from your family as a child, causing an accident where you couldn’t remember the last eight years of your life—only the new image the Aretas’ built—killed your father instantly in that accident, left your mother in the hospital with a lengthy recovery just to worry herself into sickness and die not knowing if you were ever safe, made you believe you were living with the Aretas out of false pretenses, made everything so squeaky clean that for years you couldn’t find any true history of your past life, tried to mold you into her one of her many soldiers, continued to lie to about not only you but Armando’s upbringing, and gaslit the both of you once those truth’s came to light.

Isabel was taken out of the game first but at least you were able to go out with a smile on your face, Mrs. Aretas couldn’t say the same.

When you did return, it was when Armando found out the whereabouts of your killer. She was free from jail, ironically five months after your murder—the system pinned it on another inmate—and would be down at the apple orchard with her little family.

“Arman…this isn’t a good idea.” You appeared behind him, as he’s flicking the collar of his leather jacket up after sipping into it.

He scoffs, “Appearing from the shadows today? After you literally ghosted me? is rich I have to say.”

“And I had every right to. This vengefulness is making you sick, haven’t you learned this yet? What is it going to take for you to get it through your thick ass skull, huh?” You follow him as he opens the secret compartment in his room that contained all of his weapons.

You were positive Mike did not know about this stash. Armando probably shouldn’t have any of this kind of weaponry in this temporary home Mike had him set up in. Regardless, Armando was smart he wouldn’t just take these handouts since he knew they came at a cost and had numerous bunkers over the globe. If he wanted to be gone again, he could be.

“You need to get out of my way,” Armando says to you as you simply cross your arms after he comes back out with a case.

You tilt your head, “or what?”

With swiftness, Armando pulls a knife that looks awfully familar as he shoves it right underneath your chin, “Give me one good reason not to kill you.”

Flashing your pretty teeth at him with your arms still folded you respond, “I'm immortal, so…it's actually not possible. Is it genius?”

Armando blinks, “doesn’t mean it still won’t hurt?”

“…that’s the thing, you don’t want to hurt me. You want to hurt everybody else.” You reason, which proves to be right as Armando rolls his eyes before removing the blade from your cold skin.

Sighing Armando puts his back to you, “I really don’t have time for this.”

The sarcasm is heavy in your tone, “Sure but you have time to execute a murder in front of who knows how many people and children?”

“No need to worry,” Armando smirks, “I’m the better shooter anyway.”

Huffing you follow Armando as he starts making his way through the apartment, making sure he has everything before closing the door in your face. Of course you throw your hands up before walking right through the wall to follow the man down the hallway. If he was going to do this, then you were going to be right beside him trying to get him to change his mind before he actually got to the orchard.

It was funny really, Armando going to the one place you loved being. Something you could never explain, you always loved apples since you came into Armando’s life. Apple scented things, favorite fruit and snack were apples, loved baking anything that had to do with apples—not that you had that much time to do that either catching bodies and all but in your sprinkle of free time you did. This was only explained once you knew your background, that you weren’t from another place in South America but North. You had grandparents who owned a farm and were still looking for you after your parents passed.

Your parents were in debt to the wrong people.

The Aretas, so they took the one valuable thing and that happened to be you.

Now here you were not getting to enjoy the sights of the orchard because Armando was out for blood. In your honor. Past you who was just doing these things because you knew you could, would be proud but once you got away from the dark of this game, living the life you could have? Changed how you viewed the world. It drastically changed again once Armando Aretas showed up at your door.

“What are you looking to accomplish by doing this?”

Armando sighed as he opens the car door, “I went over this already.”

“Okay…so what are you going to tell Mike and Secada once they find out?” You inquire as you appear on the passenger side, “The first person they’re going to look for is you, you know that right?”

“I have an alibi.”

“Don’t say something lame like visiting my mausoleum all the way in Massachusetts…knowing you can’t leave the state alone.”

Armando goes quiet which lets you know that was exactly what he was planning on using. He hated having you be one step ahead of him and it showed. The blank expression he shot you, had you snorting into your hand and with a shake of your head you start to comment before Armando interupts.

“Save your breath.” Armando mutters

Moving the seatbelt with a sigh, so you can free your braids you say, “no, I don’t think I will. We went long enough not speaking after you disrespected me by playing the blame game.”

He briefly glances over at you, hand tightening on the wheel, he regretted saying that to you, “I didn’t mean any of it, amiga. I was in my head and when I’m in my head—

“You don’t listen,” you finish with a sharp nod, “which is why I’m telling you that this a bad idea.”

He blinks, “is that a immortal feeling or something?”

You laugh again, “I don’t…think that’s a thing? It’s just natural to not want you to end up, you know? Dead.”

“Appreciate that but the only way I get to move on, is if I do this.”

“Until something else feeds that desire to kill again.”

“We’re always going to be killers, though.” Armando replies, “whether you like it or not in death or life. That’s just what we were made to be.”

“And it’s sad that you can’t see that you can be much more than this.” You tell, “Maybe someday you’ll see that.”

Armando hums, “Are you supposed to be my guardian Angel?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that amigo.” You rest your head back against the headrest, “you did say we were killers and I don’t think murders get to hold angel status.”

“Icarus was a fallen Angel though.”

“Touché.”

A small silence falls over the car ride while being surrounded by the busy life style of Miami. To find quality farms required traveling a good distance so Armando appreciated the silence, to gather his thoughts together. He could have gotten there faster if he purchased another bike but he was very limited now being underneath everyone’s eyes.

With the way Armando drove, it felt like less than over an hour where the palm trees started to fade and the grass roads become more prominent. He’s getting off the exit and there’s a lot less traffic around this area, which worked in Armando’s favor since you knew he preferred to go for the silent kill but if it had to get rowdy he could handle that as well. If there were kids there, which you hoped there wouldn’t be many, you prayed that they would be leaving the site before Armando got into position.

“Would you look at that,” Armando pulls your attention away from the passenger window, “Lime green jeep gladiator, we’re just in time.”

You deeply inhale, sitting up in the passenger seat while Armando keeps his distance, “get the case ready.”

“No.”

The dark haired man with the thick facial hair cuts his eyes at you, “fine. Take the wheel, then.”

And his eyes told you not to argue with him, as he twists to the back of the vehicle to grab said item.

“There’s witnesses.” You state, letting go of the wheel as Armando plops the case right into your lap.

Armando nods, “I’ll aim for the tires, make it seem like they got a flat.”

“…do you know if their kid is with them?”

“I know how to aim,” he argues, moving one hand to the case in your lap to unlock for his gun of choice along with a silencer.

Which didn’t answer your question.

He’s getting ready to roll down his window, your eyes go into slits as a black Escalade cuts you two off. You hold onto the arm of the door as Armando tries to swerve to the right as the Escalade also break checks him.

“Arman,” you start, it’s a feeling that felt like the rolling of waves in the beginning of a storm but warm and you haven’t felt warmth in some time.

He’s slamming on breaks himself, that you feel your toes curl just waiting to slam into the gladiator. Yet the gladiator is off to the left in front of the Escalade that’s attempting to shield your view of the car.

“The hell?” Armando questions and you feel your breathing halt.

In front of you was a tree blocking the pathway to the orchard.

“T-This is it. This is what I tried to warn you of.” You say with shaky breath as you glance to meet Armando’s eyes.

There’s a furrow in Armando’s brows, trying to decipher what you were saying to him. He’s caught off guard by you as he’s yanked out of the driver’s side. You feel a pull to your right, which made you frown because why could you feel this touch when it didn’t belong to Armando?

You’re shoved to your knees beside Armando who’s trying to move the hands that hold him, away until a gun is placed to his temple. The doors to the gladiator are opened, revealing your killer and her wife, who quickly grabs hold of their five year old son.

“No. This isn’t right. I killed you.” She pointed at you, still keeping her distance behind what you and Armando believed to be her bodyguards.

Armando keeps his head still but his eyes move to peek at you.

“You can see me?” You whisper before looking around at your surroundings, “…we shouldn’t be here.”

Your killer laughs, “no, you shouldn’t.” She steps forward, eyes are harsh as she glared at you before shushing her partner while she moves in closer, “did you two come here to kill me and my family? Big mistake.”

Armando shakes his head while admitting, “not your family, just you.”

You wish you could have shushed him in this moment too.

There’s a film of gray that spills over the sky followed by the rustle of trees. You don’t feel safe and not just because everyone can suddenly see you now. Where you resided when you weren’t with Armando, allowed you to see many things you still couldn’t explain. Perhaps it took time to make sense and you didn’t have anyone that worked as a guide. In essence this was just like life.

No answers and just winging it.

However you’ve seen this scene plenty of times before. The getting stuck by a road blockage, always a large tree with vehicles trying to find a way around. It was a cycle before they arrived to the town.

“The town.” You inform causing all eyes to turn to you, “we need to leave, now.”

Your killer huffs, “you keep saying that. You want to leave so bad, here.”

And with that she snatched the gun from one of her bodyguards and aims right at you, firing the gun. At least for this death, you don’t even feel it but you can only imagine how traumatizing this must have been for Armando.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

Waking with a deep gasp that feels as if it’s been punched into your chest, you jolt upwards.

“Whoa, you’re okay.” Armando’s voice is heard to the left of you, his hand rests on your thigh covered blanket.

Your eyes are wide while they connect with his dark ones.

A woman’s voice remarks next, “holy shit! You weren’t lying…and there’s no bullet wound, not even a scar.” Her thumb swipes over your forehead, which you slap away.

“Sorry.” She raised her hands in surrender, “I should introduce myself, I’m Kristi. Armando brought you here in hopes that you’d come back to life. He uh, proved me wrong about you being dead since apparently you were already dead?”

You flick your eyes back to Armando who takes hold of your hand and that’s when you notice they’re stained, “that’s right…”

A click of a gun is heard next, making all eyes turn to a dark skinned man in a blazer.

Not this again!

“Boyd! I don’t think that’s necessary.” Kristi tries to reason.

Boyd scoffs, “I think it is. Sure we get visitors but not ones like her. So you’re gonna tell me the truth and not what I want to fucking hear, are you one of those things because I’ve been waiting to trap one?”

Armando quickly moves to stand in front of the bed, blocking this Boyd guy’s view of you, “Even if she was whatever you’re accusing her to be, why would she tell the person that has a gun pointed at her?”

“That’s fair,” Boyd shrugs, “we just like to have some sort of answers in this fucked up town.”

“Join the club,” you laugh, “since I died, nothing has made much sense. And now I’m back alive or at least somewhat? In this place I’ve only had visions of?”

Boyd starts to lower his gun and shares a glance with the wavy haired woman, who introduced herself as: Kristi.

“…I think we have a lot to discuss before we let you two freely roam the town.”

Armando glances at you from over his shoulder as he speaks, “the town…is that the official name of this depressing looking place?”

“It’s easier to call it as such.” Kristi informs.

Armando realizes that you’re more connected than you let on.

“Sorry about this,” Boyd says as he cuffs Armando who’s confused, “we found some bodies that don’t belong here, along with a young boy who needs looking after, and it’s obvious you were all together and involved in some shit. So I’m going to have to separate you two while we get some more information.”

“Are you fucken serious?” Armando gruffs, “we’ll talk, we have nothing to hide but it seems like you dumbasses do.”

“Yeah alright, wise guy.” Boyd roughly turns Armando around, “I’ll be back before night falls to have a chat with you.” He explains as he shortly looks at you before turning to Kristi, “Make sure she doesn’t leave your sight.”

Armando snickers, “good luck with that, my amiga walks through walls for fun.”

Only that was something you understood, a small smile appearing on the corner of your lips as Boyd and Kristi share a frown, before Boyd leads Armando away from your sight.

“Don’t worry, Armando is in good hands with the sheriff.”

You snort, “that actually exists in this make believe place?”

Kristi pulls up a chair beside you, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck, “unfortunately this place isn’t just in your head.”

A growl rips through your stomach just as she’s scooting forward to listen to your heartbeat and breathing, “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Immortals don’t really get to eat. We just taste.” You answer.

Kristi nods and pushes back, disappearing behind a curtain for a moment before returning with a piece of a fruit, “Well try this for a change.”

You take the apple from her and wipe it against your sweater with slight laughter. Holding the red fruit towards the light, you bring it to your lips and take a bite. The crunch is almost as satisfying as its taste and your eyes close while you chew. “Honey crisp?”

“I…actually don’t know.” Kristi says, “Food has just gotten better around here…But something tells me I should trust your instincts.”

You smile and breathe in as Kristi places the tool against your chest before moving to your back.

“Tell me something…I have a feeling that your boyfriend—

“Save your breath if you’re trying to hint at shooting your shot at him.” You dismiss.

It’s Kristi’s turn to laugh, “oh no…um…just trying to make conversation. And my fiancée actually works here with me. She’s doing inventory but you’ll probably see her later since I’ll be hiking sometime tomorrow.”

You nod, “Hiking? Armando and I aren’t really hiking people. We grew up in Mexico City where rural wasn’t what we were really used to but he wanted to go to the apple orchard today.”

Kristi hums, “doing some good ol’ apple picking huh? Never would have guessed.” She finished with a laugh.

“Guess we can be full of surprises.”

Kristi sits back in the chair, “you can say that again…there’s no heartbeat when I listen to your chest but there’s a sound when I listen to your back.”

“A sound?” You press.

“Like…a whirling sound?”

You tilt your head to the side, which makes Kristi stand and hand you the end of the tool to place into your ears, raising one arm so the wire can travel underneath your arm, she stretches the stethoscope to place at your back.

“Breathe in for me.”

You do.

“Then out and listen,” Kristi continues to instruct.

Following through again, you exhale all the way out awaiting the sound. The whirling sound, that sounds like wind in a snowstorm. A force against the quiet that has no thudding like a normal heart would and it’s so eerie that you know Kristi can’t explain it either.

Taking another bite from the honeycrisp, you continue to listen while you breathe as you normally would and it’s still there every time you exhale. The season you left behind was autumn in a humid climate, you originally passed in late spring, and now as you got into the town and from what you can see from the window, winter was approaching.

Perhaps your heart was the timer for this town?

“Well…” you say around chewing, “either we’re going to be clueless for a while or I’m going to be answer to saving everybody’s lives. Let the party begin, chica!”

Kristi takes the medical device back and plops back down in the chair, offering a small smile. She didn’t know you yet or the guy you came here with but part of Kristi felt like maybe things will start to become a little bit clearer.

So she saved her breath and hoped.

How much more hope can someone have in a place like this?

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

Back at the station, Boyd is pacing in front of the jail cell he’s holding Armando in.

Boyd summarized, “So you kill people for a living?”

“I did.” Armando’s monotone was off putting as he sat comfortably in the jail cell.

Boyd shakes his head and corrects, “you do. You stopped for a little bit because you had no other choice but then relapsed at the sake of your…your girlfriend? Wife? Fiancée?

“My family.” Armando rectifies while Boyd didn’t see the difference or really need the specifics.

“Are you some sort of serial killer?” Boyd quizzes, finding Armando demeanor to be too at ease.

“No. I’m many things but that.”

Boyd’s eyes are in slits as he spits out, “Are you unalive too because there’s no way you didn’t get injured while taking four people out?”

Armando raises his hand, “just more blood to scrub. The real person we should be worried about is her. I told you she was murdered in prison months ago and has been haunting me ever since. Now we get to some fucken fallen tree in the road and everybody but me can see her? That sound right to you, sheriff?”

Boyd laughs, “oh you’re gonna learn very quickly that nothing in this town is right.”

“She said she had visions of this place before in spurts.” Armando reveals with his elbows digging into his knees, “And how she never wanted to be here, how she feared that once I didn’t need to see her anymore this is exactly where she would end up. That some type of power was telling her this would be her eternity and I guess mine too if I didn’t get my shit together.”

“W-what does that mean? If you died? We’re not dead. She maybe but we’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“There’s gotta be missing signs of us. People looking for us. We’ve all been gone too long for there not to be.” Boyd mumbled to himself but Armando feels as if he isn’t too sure.

If that is the case, then that means Mike is probably losing his shit right about now.

Armando inhales and sits back, “looks like we got a lot to learn about each then, right sheriff? And I think the first person you actually want to start with…is her.”

Boyd doesn’t doubt that since Armando didn’t hold anything back. He quickly learned that the man was in his late twenties, had heavy resentment for both of his parents, especially the one he just learned was actually his parent and was now stuck working with him to pay for his crimes, which he’s been trained to basically be a killer with the friend beside him, and had no issue turning back into that person but was it worth it?

“Why do I feel like you’re about to throw her under the bus? If she’s family then why stab her in the back?”

Armando shrugs his shoulders, “It’s not stabbing when you do research and hold your cards close. I know what she is but I don’t know much about this place, only she does. Which is why I’m telling you, you need to let me out of this cage if you know what’s good for you.”

Boyd held Armando’s stare and it only took a few moments for him to believe a complete stranger, which is not something he usually did.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

When they get back to the clinic, they’re greeted at the door by Kristi who waves them in with a finger to her lips. A frown appears on Boyd’s face as he stops by the door while Armando pushes his way by. He stops at the doorway where a blonde reaches for his shoulder to stop him.

From where they stand, he can see you sleeping on your side. Apple rind fallen from your fingertips, as a white as snow singular wing is arched up and out from your shoulder.

“That’s new and I don’t get out much.” The blonde whispers from Armando’s left.

He folds his arms and turns to meet Boyd and Kristi’s eyes with raised brows.

‘Told you so,’ is written all over his face as he moved to step into the room but the blonde, who touched him again tries to get him not to move any further.

He looks at her hand and then at her face.

She suggests, “I think we should give her some space. Until she’s alert and we see how she reacts, if it’s still out.”

“Marielle’s right, That’s not a bad idea.” Kristi observes.

Armando shrugs Marielle’s hand from him, “how long has she been like that? She normally doesn’t sleep…because she can’t.”

“Not long.” Kristi tells as she glanced at Boyd whose face held complete stress, “Maybe we should get Kenny down here or even Sara?”

Boyd immediately shakes his head, “No to Kenny. We don’t need to bother him right now, we can handle it.”

“You don’t know that, sheriff.” Armando disagrees with a humorless laugh.

“Well, thanks for your load of fucking confidence, Armando.”

“I’m just saying.” Armando leans against the doorway, eyeing you again while crossing one leg over the other, “we…mainly her might have just changed the entire game.”

Boyd clenched his fist and stalked out of the clinic to swing at the air and let out a string of curse words.

Armando rolls his head to look at the two women who peer at the direction where the sheriff walked off too. It was so quiet over here that everyone heard his frustrations.

“Is he always like that? And he’s a sheriff? You might need to check his blood pressure.” Armando mentions while Marielle shakes her head at him and Kristi rolls her eyes.

“You’re strangely calm about this, guy with the bloody hands. You should clean that up by the way.” Marielle says.

Armando unfolds his hands to look at the stains and moves into the main area in search of a sink. “Someone’s got to learn how to not lose their shit and I have a hunch that it’s not that many people around here.”

Kristi defends Boyd, “Okay Mr. Calm, we’ll see how long that lasts once you see what the night brings.”

Armando gives a wicked smile to the two women as he shakes out his damp hands, “I’ve seen plenty in my twenty-eight years and I’ve never been afraid of the dark.”

And with that he moves, despite Marielle’s protest, to sit right beside you, almost keeping guard of you this time around.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

Continue with my October anthology prompts here.

#Spotify #armando aretas #Armando Aretas x reader #October prompts #spooky prompts #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life #bad boys #from epix #from mgm #boyd stevens #kristi miller #Marielle Sinclair #queued

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goosegoblin · 1 year ago

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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)

#pls don't think i'm trying to defend panera i would rather die

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crazycookies73307 · 10 months ago

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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.

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