#trigger warning vomiting

[oat-pup]

you guys still like dandy's world right

[pixlokita]

Started sketching the next page since we’re all sick so might as well take it out on Mike Lmao-

[1heartfanfics]

Can I get some fluffy Steve/Bucky? Either one sick is fine (or both?). Maybe a post mission adrenaline drop masking an on coming stomach bug. Cuddles and belly rubs are definitely a plus, especially with the caretaker being overprotective. Have a happy and safe new year!

TW: depictions of vomit

Steve had come to learn that everyone handles the post-mission adrenaline differently. Peter for example, had been talking his ear off since they got on the jet, practically bouncing with excitement. Clint usually passed out immediately and slept the whole way back to the compound. Tony and Nat usually had a drink or two to unwind, sometimes chatting amongst themselves or quietly in their own worlds. His own response was usually to check in with everyone, play the role of the leader, the protector.

Bucky didn't always handle it so well. Steve had seen him breakdown multiple times after getting home, unfamiliar with the way his mind and body felt as the adrenaline faded. Ever since getting on the jet, Steve had been watching Bucky, unsure of how he'd react. This was his first mission as a whole group since joining the avengers. He'd only done solo missions or missions with just Steve and Nat until now.

Even as Peter rambled on excitedly beside him, Steve was analyzing Bucky's facial expression. Bucky was sitting across from him, staring blankly ahead with one hand gripping the armrest of his seat hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. Steve would've preferred for Bucky to sit next to him, but the kid had taken the seat before he could, and Steve didn't want to hurt his feelings.

Steve tried to catch Bucky's eyes, but he seemed lost in his head, not really looking at anything. He was starting to get worried though, Bucky's face had gone a shade of ashen gray in the last few minutes. He was looking more and more unwell as the minutes passed.

A moment later though, Bucky did look at Steve, his eyes pleading. Something was wrong, he needed help. And Steve needed a distraction, for the kid. He turned in his seat, craning his neck to look for Tony. Tony was sitting with Nat, as he'd predicted, toward the back of the plane.

"Hey Parker, I think Stark's trying to get your attention. Why don't you go back there with him and Nat?" Steve said, cutting off Peter's rambling.

"Oh. Right, of course! Thank you Mr. Rogers!" Peter said, jumping up and heading toward Tony. Steve turned around, clearing his throat to get Tony's attention. He quickly took in Peter walking toward him and Steve's pointed look. Steve nodded his head in Bucky's direction, causing Tony to flick his eyes over to the other man, then back to Steve with a nod. Understood.

Steve turned his attention back to Bucky, who was now practically paper white.

"I don't feel good," Bucky blurted out, metal hand also gripping the armrest now.

"Hey, it's alright," Steve quickly moved to sit in the seat to Bucky's right, "What's going on Buck?" he asked.

"S'my stomach," Bucky mumbled, "feeling nauseous." That certainly explained his complexion.

"Okay, hey it's okay" Steve said calmly, "You're coming down off the adrenaline, which can definitely turn your stomach. Just try to take some deep breaths," he continued. Bucky's breathing was started to get erratic, coming in short gasps. He was panicking.

"Stevie-" Bucky gasped, releasing the arm rest with the hand closest to Steve to reach for him, fumbling for something to hold onto.

"I'm right here Buck, I've got you," Steve said, grabbing Bucky's hand in his own. "Just breathe," he instructed, taking some slow measured breaths himself to demonstrate.

"H-how long?" Bucky asked shakily.

"I don't know," Steve admitted, he hadn't been paying attention to how long they'd been in the air as he'd been so worried about Bucky.

"Don't think I can make it," Bucky shook his head, "M'gonna puke soon," he said, voice trembling. His other arm had moved to wrap around his middle, clutching at his stomach.

"That's okay. If you need to be sick then you need to be sick," Steve shrugged, rubbing his other hand up and down Bucky's arm. "You might feel better after," he added.

Bucky didn't say anything, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the seat's head rest. He was definitely going to be sick soon.

Steve realized that everyone else must have noticed the situation by now. He looked out to find everyone watching them, worry written on their faces, silently asking 'is he okay?'. Steve shook his head.

Tony nodded in response, ushering everyone toward the back of the plane with hushed whispers. Steve mouthed a silent 'thank you' then turned his attention back to Bucky, who was now looking a shade greener than a minute ago.

"Come on Buck, let's move," Steve said, standing up. Bucky's eyes opened to look at him, full of fear. Steve grabbed him by both elbows, pulling him to his feet and walking backwards to lead him into the planes bathroom.

He helped Bucky kneel down in front of the toilet, moving to sit behind him. Steve unbuckled the straps of Bucky's uniform, helping him pull it over his head to leave him in just a t-shirt and his uniform pants. He tossed the uniform onto the floor beside them, then pulled the black rubber band from Bucky's wrist and used it to tie up his hair so it would stay out of his face.

"Easy darling," Steve said softly. He brought a hand up to rest between Bucky's shoulder blades, then started to rub gently up and down his back. Bucky leaned over the toilet, bracing himself with his good arm, breathing hard.

"Fuck, my stomach," Bucky groaned, curling in on himself.

Steve scooted closer, moving to wrap an arm around Bucky's waist so he could rest a hand on his stomach. He waited for a moment to be sure Bucky wouldn't protest, before he slid his hand up under Bucky's shirt, rubbing gently.

Bucky groaned again, before lurching forward with a dry heave. He positioned himself over the toilet, belching wetly, before heaving again. This time bringing up a wave of vomit. Steve held him as he continued to cough and gag, but it was clear that he was empty, nothing left to bring up.

Steve gently pulled Bucky away from the toilet to lean back against him, feeling his stomach still contracting against his hand with empty gags.

"Breath Buck, you're all done," Steve said quietly, starting to rub careful circles over Bucky's stomach to help calm it.

After a few minutes, Bucky managed to get his stomach under control and calm his breathing. Now that he was pressed against Steve's chest, he could feel the warmth radiating off of Bucky's body, which was practically limp against him from exhaustion.

"Think you're sick Buck, you've got a fever," Steve said, reaching around to press a hand to Bucky's forehead, confirming what he already suspected. This was more than just an adrenaline crash.

Bucky just groaned in response. No wonder he'd felt so sluggish during the fight today. He'd been coming down with a stomach bug.

"Think you're up for moving?" Steve asked after a few moments.

Bucky was exhausted, but he also wanted to get up off the bathroom floor. As much as he didn't want to face the rest of the team that would no doubt be watching them when they came out, he also desperately wanted to lay down.

"Okay, let's get you up off the floor and laying down," Steve said, as if reading his mind. He looped his arms under Bucky's, hauling him to his feet. Bucky slumped against Steve, leaning into his shoulder at Steve led them back out to their seats. He kept his eyes closed, face flushing with embarrassment as he felt the eyes of the team on him.

"It's okay, they're just worried," Steve whispered, reading his thoughts again. Steve pushed the armrests up on the seats, then helped Bucky to lay down across them.

"You need anything?" Steve asked, crouching in front of Bucky to be at his eye level. Bucky shook his head slightly, eyes still closed.

"Alright. Try to get rest then okay? I'll wake you up when we land," Steve said.

Bucky didn't answer, focused on willing his body into sleep before he needed to throw up again. He hoped he could make it until they were back in the safety of his and Steve's suite at the tower.

[n4us30usbaby]

Today had my first purg3 in like 6 months :(

[bajablasttacobell]

Mirrored Perspectives P.2

Tw: ED, mentions of vomitting.

Words; 1,207

———————————-

The walk back to the bunk beds was silent. Even though Namgyus mind would never shut up he wanted to say something.. anything. He hated silence because he felt like everyone could hear him and his thoughts. Thanos was mumbling to himself another rap Namgyu figured.

They arrived back at the beds and sat down waiting for any announcements. Already sitting there was Minsu. Namgyu felt himself getting upset at just the sight of Minsu. Like a dog waiting for his masters. “My boy Minsu” Thanos called out before sitting beside him and wrapped an arm around him.

He squeezed the smaller man tightly. “One more game right?” He made an o shape. Minsu said nothing in reply. Thanos frowned at that and shot a glance at Namgyu. Namgyu just sat there deep in thought, oblivious to Thanos glances. “Namgyu” He called another time.

Finally snapping out of it Namgyu had met Thanos eyes. “Come on our boy Minsu needs some motivation to vote O.” Namgyu was going to say something but faltered he only let out a small noise. His throat was starting to bother him from the previous situation. Thanos stared into his soul Namgyu swore he was picking every piece of him apart.

Thanos just stared at him waiting for him to say something he was starting to get impatient. He turned back to Minsu before standing up jerking Minsu up with him. “Go find your little girlfriend and convince her to vote O too.” Thanos mumbled to him.

With that he pushed Minsu off and sat back down. Namgyu thought it was weird how Thanos sent him off like that, he figured Thanos enjoyed having him around because Namgyu certainly didn’t if it was his choice he would never have even acknowledged Minsu.

“Namsu what the hell was up with you earlier?” Thanos said breaking the silence. That was it Namgyu was so pissed. He didnt understand Thanos deal, always in his business. “It’s Namgyu, and fucking nothing!” He shouted and a few people around them turned to look. “None of your concern anyway.” He mumbled to himself. Namgyu froze before mumbling an apology to Thanos. He avoided the other man’s gaze in embarrassment.

He didn’t know why he just snapped like that. Thanos seemed to legitimately be concerned but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t his or anyone’s business. Namgyu knew that inside he was fucked up and even more so on the outside.

Thanos shot Namgyu a glare before turning away on his bed to face the other way. “Fine not my fault your some skeleton or something.” He mumbled to himself. Namgyu heard though, he heard every little thing said about him. But a skeleton? That was new no one ever said that to him. It was always pig or some shit like that.

Time Skip—————-

It was finally time to vote again. He waited behind Minsu and was trying to hype him up. He gently rubbed circles around Minsu’s shoulders. He gently leaned in his lips close to his ear. He startled the other man. “ One more game right Minsu? Thanos an I will protect you we promise.” He whispered softly. He pulled away but didn’t take his hands off Minsu.

Namgyu glanced around at Thanos who was still trying to get Minsu to vote O. Suddenly a pain hit his stomach hard. He clutched his stomach and bent over slightly. He couldn’t but let out a few small whimpers. No one had heard thankfully. The pain was too much, he glanced up at Thanos. The same thought came back. The one that was killing him slowly. No one could know. He backed away from the group to a little corner behind the bunk beds.

His hands trembled, he was pathetic. He knows that but he couldn’t help the tears that threatened to fall. His insides felt like they were going to literally come back up through his throat. Maybe he should have ate but he was so close. He was going to finally feel good about himself he just needed to lose some extra weight. That’s what he told himself but he knew that it wouldn’t matter.

He would still be miserable. No one would notice his achievements only his shortcomings, that’s how it always was. Suddenly from behind he heard shuffling. Before he could turn around a hand was on his shoulder and, “Namgyu” it was Thanos of course it was. Namgyu turned around and felt the pain come back he couldn’t react before Thanos leaned in close. “What are you doing back here?” His usually tough demeanor changed, he appeared concerned. “Nothin-“ Namgyu was going to reply but thanos cut him off first. “Cut the bullshit something is obviously wrong with you.” Namgyu froze could he really keep defending himself? Did thanos know more than he let on?

Namgyu turned his head to the side he felt the tears staining his cheek. He didn’t know what to say. No one could know. Suddenly he felt hands on him. They pushed him back slightly until he was against the wall he hit his head slightly and felt a hand grab his chin forcing him to look up. Another hand was against his waist slowly feeling him up.

“Thanos wh-what are you doing..?” Namgyu whimpered quietly. He look directly into Thanos eyes which were already staring at him. “Namsu” Thanos cooed at him softly. “ I can’t help you boy if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” He said.

Namgyu couldn’t reply because he didn’t really know what was even wrong with him to begin with. He knew what set him off and what tore him down the most but he didn’t know what was truly wrong with himself. He raised his hands on to Thanos and he shoved them aside.

No words felt right even if he wanted to say it would sound ridiculous anyway. “Thanos I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replied trying to keep his cool. “Don’t play dumb with me, for one you haven’t ate your food at all for the whole time we’ve been here,” Wait had he really picked up on that? “For two I walk into the bathroom and your fucking gagging and now whatever your doing right now” Thanos finally finished

“Im just not hungry most of the time.” Namgyu lied straight through his teeth and he couldn’t even think of an excuse for the other things. He was hungry though so so so hungry but not just for food, for empathy, for someone to just even care about him. There was an unsettling silence between them. Thanos had a face like he finally figured something out. “Your anorexic, arnt you?” Thanos finally asked.

Namgyu finally succumbed he couldn’t do it anymore. He nodded he wasn’t able to make out any words his throat closed up on him. He waited for a response from Thanos only for the bigger man to close the distance and wrap his arms around him.

He softly pressed his lips against Namgyus. Namgyu didnt pull away and leaned into the kiss. His heart skipped a beat was this what he wanted? “ I don’t care your still my boy, Namgyu.” Thanos said as he pulled away from the kiss, he kept his arms around Namgyu hugging a little tighter as he said that. Namgyu finally had someone who cared for him, no not cared, but loved.

——————————————

Honestly mixed feelings for this, I struggled writing this because I didn’t know how I wanted Thanos to find out honestly I feel like it would be better if he came to find out on his own intuition rather than Namgyu telling him. Lmk and mistakes or suggestions!! :))

[sirfrogsworth]

Mounjaro's Revenge: The Inevitable Adventures of Froggie, Chapter Unknown

I keep saying I can't leave the house without having some kind of adventure. And I really thought I was going to have a quick, uneventful doctor's visit with my monthly checkup this past Wednesday. I'd go in, they'd check the box Medicare requires every month, and I'd come straight home.

But adventure seeks me out. I can't seem to escape its grasp. And, yes, sometimes I like having adventures. They give me something to write about. And sometimes they are fun memories. But sometimes adventures just make me tired. And not all adventures are positive.

For the past 3 weeks I have been on the second dosage amount of Mounjaro. Unlike the Ozempic, I have had a few issues with side effects. Roughly 48 hours after my injection, I get sick to my stomach and feel pukey. It lasts for about two hours. I either vomit and lose the urge or I hold it in and it fades. I am then compelled to take a nap.

Considering the weight loss and glucose control, getting sick for an hour or two per week isn't a huge deal. There is a good chance I will get used to the medication as time goes on, but even if I don't, I am okay with this consequence.

My injection day was Tuesday, and based on past experience, I figured I'd have until Thursday morning before I got sick. The past 2 episodes happened at almost identical times, so I figured Wednesday wouldn't be a problem.

But right before my doctor's appointment I started feeling extremely... rough.

Optimistic for no good reason, I was hopeful I could get through the appointment before the urge to vomit arrived.

I get to the office and there are 3 patients ahead of me. This was not a good sign. My doctor tends to overbook and I was probably going to have a bit of a wait. I arrived in the middle of a lively conversation about where to get a good steak in St. Louis. I'm used to waiting rooms being full of quiet and bored people staring at their phones so when I opened the door it felt like the conversation smacked me in the face.

The cast of characters were as follows...

There was an older black man who had the spirit of a kindly grandpa. He seemed nice and wise and was enjoying the steak conversation. Let's call him, Old Guy.

There was an older white fellow who was anxious about the wait time due to having another appointment soon. He was on hold with the other doctor's office trying to delay his appointment time. He was only mildly interested in steak due to that distraction. I already used Old Guy, so... Anxious Guy.

And then there was the steak expert who was leading the conversation. Actually, leading is not strong enough. He was *dominating* the conversation. As I sat down and his visage entered my field of view, I was a bit taken aback.

Do you know how in Star Trek everyone has a mirror universe doppelganger who may look the same, but they usually have personality traits that are reversed?

They are often identified by arch overacting or a change in facial hair.

The steak expert was my mirror universe counterpart. He was of similar age, height, and weight. Same color hair and eyes. He even wore similar clothing.

But he had a goatee instead of a beard. *gasp*

And he wore... sandals. *double gasp*

He had clearly been in a recent transporter mishap.

I mean, I could *never* wear sandals. The world is not ready to handle my nude foot and I find very few sandals have the load-bearing capacity necessary for people my size. You are asking for foot pain if you are over 300 pounds and wearing sandals.

Mirror Froggie was very outgoing and personable, but he had trouble filtering what he said and was often obliviously rude. He clearly thought himself to be hilarious but struggled to make even kindly Old Guy chuckle.

Old Guy said, "I think Longhorn makes a decent steak for the money."

And then Mirror Me's unfiltered response... "Longhorn is shit. You shouldn't eat there. You are wasting your money on shit steak."

"I don't know, I've always enjoyed..."

"I'm telling you, friend, it is shit steak. End of story."

You could tell that made Old Guy feel bad for suggesting what he liked. But he brushed it off and asked for a better suggestion. Mirror Froggie confidently told him of a restaurant called "Sam's" that had "the best steak in town."

Old Guy proceeded to ask Siri to look up Sam's and it took a few tries. He reminded me of my dad fighting with the iPhone and repeating things over and over with increasing volume. I think Old Guy wasn't specific enough as he got the wholesale club on the first few attempts. Finally he said, "SAMMM'S STEAKHOUSSSSE" and found success. Old Guy saw the reviews and some of them were... not great.

But Mirror Froggie was like, "You can't read reviews. They're all liars." And I was questioning why people would take the time to lie about a small St. Louis steakhouse, but whatever. He then said it was because the restaurant was in disrepair and needed new plumbing, but that's why they could sell such amazing steak at reasonable prices.

Theories are less logical in the Mirror Universe. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anxious Guy got off his phone call and cursed into the void. He missed his other appointment. He interjected with, "Is that Sam's place expensive?" And that sent Mirror Froggie into a long diatribe about the price of meat at different places and his annoyance at steak-related inflation. Soon after, Anxious Guy finally got in to see the doctor. Old Guy was keeping Mirror Froggie busy with conversation, so I just closed my eyes and rested as they discussed the price of oversized shrimp "as big as your fist". I guess they ran out of things to say about steak.

As they were talking I started to get a spidey-sense about Mirror Froggie.

He *needed* conversation.

He *needed* distraction.

His boredom abhors a vacuum.

Whenever there was a lull or silent moment, I could see him getting very antsy. And if Old Guy got called in before Mirror Froggie... I was going to have a problem.

I was feeling sicker by the moment and did not have the bandwidth to help some stranger with his inability to accept boredom.

And... Old Guy was next.

Because, of course he was.

I feel like sitting there with my eyes closed and also not having said a word the entire time was a pretty decent social cue that I was not interested in talking. But Mirror Me decided to poke that notion with a stick in order to find a way in.

He speaks barely above a whisper, "I wish I could sleep in a public waiting room. Not sure how you do that."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling well. Nothing contagious, just very tired."

"Well, if you're sick, I guess you're in the right place, am I right? *long pause* Cuz we're next to a hospital. *short pause* Right?"

Oh great, he's a joke explainer.

Mirror Froggie did not care about my desire to sit in peace while I waited. His foot was anxiously a-tappin' and he was vibrating with energy that needed someplace to go. He tried standing up and walking in circles. And I guess because my eyes were shut he decided to narrate his walking and stretching to keep me informed. That satisfied him for roughly 20 seconds. He sat back down and was clearly struggling to be alone with his own thoughts.

"Hey, friend."

I open my eyes slowly.

"Do you see that magazine next to you? Would you mind handing that to me?"

I thought, "This is good. He's seeking out an alternate source of stimulation. He can read the magazine and I can rest until my turn."

Seriously, brain... where is this optimism coming from? I've been a cynical misanthrope for like 4 years now.

He flips through a few pages. "Look at this. It's got Oprah on the cover. It's got to be good, right? They don't put Oprah on the cover unless it is good, ya know? Though she doesn't look right after losing all that weight. You know what I mean, friend?"

Well, shit.

I didn't give him a distraction, I gave him a conversation starter. Still, I kept my eyes closed in the hopes he would give up.

"Hey, friend."

Crap.

"You want to hear a joke?"

I open my eyes. I'm not getting out of this.

"Sure." as unenthusiastically as I can manage.

He proceeds to tell three jokes all strung together. All of them terrible and none of them coherent enough for me to remember. I gave him complimentary singular chuckles even though two of the punchlines didn't make sense. I think one was about accidentally eating cat food.

"Hey, friend... how'd you like my jokes?"

I jokingly replied back, "Well, you said *a* joke and that was *three* jokes. That wasn't what I agreed to."

He chuckles and I close my eyes again.

"Hey, friend."

Jesus Christ, would someone jingle their keys for this dude?

"Do you want to hear a 'locker room' joke?"

Oh fuck me.

"I... guess?"

There was no way out of this aside from unpleasant confrontation and my energy calculation of that was much higher than just suffering through a dirty joke.

Here it is, as best as I can remember...

"So there is a pirate ship. And the captain has a beautiful daughter who has come aboard. He tells her that the crew hasn't seen a woman in a long time and they aren't safe to be around, so she should keep a razor blade 'down there.' After the voyage he assembles all of his men and instructs them to pull down their pants. Every one of them has had their dick cut off... except for one. The captain goes up to the only one with their dick intact and says, 'Thank you for not deflowering my only daughter. You should be commended for your restraint. And as a reward, I will make you my first mate.'"

I literally cannot type the punchline because it was an unintelligible noise. Basically, Mirror Froggie imitated someone without a tongue trying to speak.

Yeah. That happened.

I could not hide my disdain for this joke and I was feeling too awful to muster up any kind of response. He seemed confused by the absence of laughter from his wonderful rapey body mutilation joke.

"You get it, friend? He lost his tongue because he ate her pussy."

Yes, explaining the joke always helps... friend.

In whatever the opposite of the nick of time is, moments after this stranger said "ate her pussy"... the nurse calls Mirror Froggie in for his appointment.

I would feel relieved, but the Mounjaro side effects were getting worse and the urge to lose the remaining nutritional value from last night's dinner was increasing by the moment. I was next in line, so I was hoping Mirror Froggie didn't take up too much of the doctor's time with horrible "locker room" jokes and dubious steakhouse suggestions.

Roughly 5 minutes later the nurse calls me in to get my vitals. She weighs me and I am down another 3 pounds. That reminded me of why I was suffering this tummy tantrum. My blood pressure was perfect but my pulse was quite high. I was very anxious holding in my stomach contents and I tried to explain, but she asked me to try and relax to lower my heart rate. We compromised when I got it down to 107.

The nurse keeps forgetting that I don't really have a family anymore. And I know she has a lot of patients in and out and they probably all blend together. But she always ends up asking me questions that require me to remind her my parents are dead.

"Did your mom put up the Christmas tree yet?"

I went with, "No tree this year. Too much work."

"Aw, that's too bad. I actually got mine up early this year. You gotta put up a tree for Christmas."

Thankfully her job was done at this point and she abruptly ended the conversation.

Next up, the pee guy.

He has never actually told me what his name is so that is just what I call him in my head.

Every month I have to sacrifice my urine to the gods of Medicare so they know I am taking my meds and not selling them on the mean streets of Spanish Lake. And the pee guy always comes in to collect my sample. The little cup is kept in a white paper bag for discretion. He used to just give you a clear ziplock, and that was a little embarrassing, as everyone in the waiting room could see your pee. I definitely prefer the new white paper bag system.

It could be my lunch or some cookies or a bunch of peanuts.

Who is to know?

The pee guy is a bit of a talker as well. But the nice thing about his conversational style is that you can't get in a word edgewise. If he asks you a question, he'll even answer it for you. This requires very little effort on my part.

"Hey there, Mr. Benjermin!"

(I have noticed Ben-jer-min is a common pronunciation among Black folks in the area. Not sure if that is just a St. Louis thing or not. Perhaps I have a dialectologist follower who knows.)

I wave hello.

"How's it going, Mr. Benjermin!? Good? Good. Just gotta get your sample. Still taking the same meds? (I nod yes.) Okay, just need you to sign here. New Year's is coming up. Gotta be careful not to party too hard. You'll be regretting that. Though you don't look like a drinker to me. (I nod no.) Yeah, you're a good one. You keep it clean. Okay then, Mr. Benjermin. You're all set. Here is your new sample cup for next time."

He replaces my white paper bag with a new white paper bag and leaves the room without me saying a word. And I'm just realizing he asks me if I am a drinker quite a lot. He must sense my teetotaler spirit or something because he always assumes (correctly) that I don't drink. He's just really concerned about me partying too hard.

Finally the doctor comes in.

My doctor is kind, compassionate, and competent. The almost 3 Cs. But he's got a touch of what I call "Boomer-itis." He's on the progressive side of most things but there are a few ingrained sensibilities from that generation he didn't escape. It's mostly harmless. Though he said something sexist in front of a nurse practitioner student during my last visit that made her roll her eyes behind him.

He greets me and I tell him I'm not feeling well from the Mounjaro and that I am still recovering from my trip to Florida. He tells me that a lot of people can get sick for days from these new drugs, so getting sick for an hour or two isn't so bad. I agree, though I really wish I had not gotten sick at the exact time of this appointment. I keep eyeballing the trash can in the corner just in case things go sideways in my tummy.

He asks about my trip to Florida and I predicted that—as I already had photos ready to go on my phone. I scroll through them, showing off amazing cityscapes and mountainous clouds and an orange sunset over a lake—hoping to impress him with my photography skills to no avail. And then he sees Katrina. Now, I am not blind to her attractiveness, but I do sometimes forget how people respond when they see her next to me.

"Oh, wow. She's beautiful!" he exclaims.

I almost felt flattered on her behalf. But then his Boomer-itis starts to kick in. And he repeats, "Yeah, she's *really* beautiful. Just a friend, you said?" His facial expression and tone of voice are like, "You poor thing, you have been friendzone'd." And probably a touch of, "She's out of your league, buddy." I don't know exactly how to describe it, but it is this familiar look of pity and worry. This is usually followed up with a probing question trying to figure out what our "deal" is. Why is it so odd to that generation that a man and woman can earnestly be just friends and perfectly content with that arrangement?

It would be the easiest thing in the world to just say, "She's gay" and that she isn't "out of my league" as she plays an entirely different sport. (Competitive Subaru Ownership?) But my friendship with Katrina is not some consolation prize due to her queerness. I shouldn't have to explain or justify why I'm "just friends" or why I'm not "being led on."

In a worried tone, "So, umm, how'd you two meet?"

There it is.

"She is an artist. I posted some of her work on my website and it was very popular and helped people find her work. She messaged me to say thank you and we were instant friends. 10 years later she's my best friend and very much like family."

Thankfully his pity face evaporated and he finally saw how long-lasting and meaningful this friendship was. But it is a weirdly common obstacle I have noticed whenever people see a fat guy has a conventionally attractive friend.

Friends are great. Friends have been more supportive and beneficial to me than any romantic entanglement I've ever had.

All of my friends are hot and queer and that's awesome.

Note to self: Put that on a t-shirt.

Knowing how difficult it was, he congratulated me on surviving the trip and we wrapped up our appointment quickly. All I have left to do is check in with his assistant, get my prescriptions sent in, and make my next appointment. I can see the finish line, but my tummy is rumbling and I am making contingency plans for the Great Upchuck of 2023™. I'm clocking trashcans with plastic liners. I'm trying to remember where the nearest restroom is. And then I look down at the little white paper bag containing my urine sample cup and think, "Last resort."

Trinica (the competence ninja and my favorite person in the office) is processing my meds and searching the calendar for next month's visit. Shelly is keeping quiet and working on her computer. I start pacing back and forth. I'm not sure what I think that will do, but I think desperation is taking over at this point.

Shelly sees me and asks, "How's that whole disability situation going for you?" She is acting like my best friend now after cursing at me on the phone. I have a feeling she had an unpleasant conversation with my doctor after that episode because she isn't this sweet and nice to anyone.

I give her the update, "Everything is submitted. My lawyer is happy with all of the records we were able to find. It's just a waiting game now. It could be a couple of months but if I have to see a judge it could be over a year."

She commiserates with me about how slow the process can be.

Then, out of fucking nowhere, Mirror Froggie reappears in the little sliding reception window like a jumpscare in a horror movie.

Are you fucking kidding me with this guy?

"Hey Trinica, do you have a business card for the doctor? I want to recommend him to Doug."

Who the fuck is Doug? Are we supposed to know Doug? Is Doug the tongueless pussy-eating pirate who needs medical attention?

Trinica looks in her desk and is unable to find a spare card. So she stops processing my stuff and starts hunting around the office. She has a bad leg so she is slowly limping while searching every desk. I have never wanted to strangle anyone before, but my doppeldouche was really pushing his luck.

At this point I am just staring at the little trash can in the blood-draw room. I can feel the scrambled eggs reversing course through my digestive system.

Trinica finds a fucking card for fucking Doug and fucking Mirror Froggie finally fucks off to bother people that are not me.

Trinica gets me all sorted, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and make to the car.

I sit in the driver's seat, and with that unearned optimism, say to myself, "I made it."

For all of you who are squeamish about bodily fluids, you can just pretend this is where the story ends. Everything was fine. I made it home and was happy and comfortable and nothing gross happened. The nausea faded away and I lived happily ever after.

The End.

Thank you for reading this and have a lovely day.

Just scroll on by to the next post!

.

.

.

Okay, so you all probably thought I was foreshadowing a monumental barf.

But foreshadowing is typically subtle. You don't want to give away the ending. Of course this was going to end in barf. The barfing was inevitable. The barf was not what I was *actually* foreshadowing at all.

Did anyone catch what it was?

You know that discrete white paper bag?

The one that could be for peanuts or maybe a sammich and definitely not my urine sample cup?

The last resort?

Look, it's all I had.

I was not going to make it home. I was not going to make it back into the bathroom. No trash bins on the horizon. Nothing in my car.

At first it was just an itty bitty baby barf. A perfect amount to be contained in a flimsy paper bag. I felt a relief wash over me.

"That's all?" still being stupidly optimistic.

But then I made that noise.

That... pre-retch noise.

That one where your head kinda juts forward and your lips make a giant O shape and you make a very specific grunting sound. That sound where if another person hears it, they involuntarily make the same specific grunting sound.

This was when I had one of those movie moments when a character knows they are about to die and they can't do anything about it. And I made this exact face as I waited for the impending doom of a vomitous explosion.

The Great Upchuck of 2023™ commenced.

And it was... intense.

Everything inside my stomach transferred rapidly, furiously, projectile-ly into the bag of foreshadowing.

I mean, I'm pretty much convinced my stomach is a TARDIS because I do not remember ingesting that much food. This sheer volume of barf had to be coming from another dimensional plane.

I could see it staining the sides of the bag as it was clearly not meant for this. When I finished it was barely intact—soggy, if you will. When I was absolutely sure I had ralph'd to completion, my only option was to gently place it on the passenger's side floor (sans floor mats). All I needed was for it to last 5 more minutes on the trip home and then I could dispose of it and pretend this never happened.

Physically I felt such a relief. Sometimes there is this post-puke euphoria where you just feel, well... lighter. Unburdened with no longer having that feeling. Happy it is over with.

I place the key in the ignition and head for home. As I'm driving I can't help but stare at the bag. I can see it mocking me as it changes colors. The exterior was getting... damp. If this were someone else's vomit, I would have been vomiting because of it. Just... so gross.

I get home and park the car. I walk around to the passenger side to begin the extraction process. I pull the trash can close and I have to psych myself up to deal with this horrible hurling happenstance.

And this next part, well... it would be hilarious if it weren't so damned disgusting.

I stare at the bag.

The bag stares back at me.

I take a deep breath and approach the bag.

The bag grins at me.

I gingerly grasp the very tippy-top in an effort to not touch any of the offending material.

I slowly lift up the bag.

And the very instant it reaches just enough height to do the most damage...

The bottom falls out.

If the bag had broken just as I was picking it up, the carnage would have been minimal. Only a small area to clean up. But clearly this bag read the Wikipedia page on air burst nuclear weapons. It knew you get a much more devastating blast radius if you detonate from an elevated position.

A TARDIS worth of partially digested scrambled eggs just pour and splatter and spray onto the floor of my car. It looked like the bag was puking out my puke.

The bag is now dead but I can feel its ghost laughing at me.

I stand there frozen holding the top of this evil deceased white paper bag trying and failing to process what just happened.

I realize I have no idea what to do with this situation. This is something that would usually be followed with, "MOoooOOOoooommmmm! How do I clean up vomit?"

And she would say, "You'll never do it right. I'll clean it up."

And I'd pretend to be like, "Oh no, it's my mess. I could never let you do that for me."

And she'd insist and break out her endless supply of very specific cleaning potions and magics and soon it would be as if the vomit didn't even exist.

So, I guess my question is... do I have to get my car detailed now?

The Actual End.

[overwatch]

I never really understood eating disorders. I thought skinny people could just *eat*.

When I was hospitalized in Decemember I went 2 months without eating. Had to get those fun feeding tubes on my neck (jk, I had to get them re-done 3 times and it was one of the worst experiences in the whole finding out I had cancer business).

After I got the whipple surgery I had to re-learn how to eat. And even then, my body would just throw up everything. It was so painful to vomit, but my body always felt relieved of not having to eat.

I am glad to say that right now, not only am I eating again, but I am eating lots! And I love food again! But it was so hard to get here.

Anyway, the point of my post is that I wanted to share what helped me overcome my ED:

Dungeon Meshi / Delicious in Dungeon

I remember forcing myself to watch it and getting slightly nauseoted by the sight of food, even in anime, on the first episode. But I kept on watching and the way Laios and Senshi love food/cooking made me value and admire food again. I think by episode 2 I missed being able to cook myself.

2. Tzuyang

I am going to be honest, I was also ignorant about Mukbang. I thought it was just people forcing themselves to eat large quantities under a timer (there was a famous white youtuber who wasn't very healthy and was doing this for views, which was, regrettably, my introduction to the concept).

After many 'not interested' clicks on tiktoks about food content, somehow the Al Gore Rythm suggested Tzuyang. She's a very sweet person who genuinely loves food and eats because she loves to (so not forcing herself to eat large quantities).

So many times I found myself watching her eat to 'get' hungry and it worked. Even now, on my chemo days when I am not very hungry, I usually play her videos and it helps a ton.

So idk I hope these recommendations can help someone else going through something similar too!

[idiot-mushroom]

was going through it last week

[glittery-phantom]

I think I need to set some new rules for myself so without much explanation here they are;

Rule 1: No eating at places that don't have their calories listed on the menu

Rule 2: No eating with people PERIOD. even if I feel comfortable doing so

Rule 3: Hydrate properly before eating and after exercising

Rule 4: Don't wait until famished in order to eat

Rule 5: Only eat foods I know the calories in

Rule 6: Always exercise before eating

Rule 7: Vømit and then Exercise after eating eating

Rule 8: Remind myself "The food you want now will be there later"

Rule 9: Don't eat before 7am and don't eat after 12am

Rule 10: Don't try to f@st longer than 24 - 38 hours stick to OMAD

Rule 11: Always leave the house unstocked to prevent b1ng1ng

Rule 12: ALWAYS eat under 1000 - 2000 calories

[lilablumenn]

Hi everyone, I need help.

I really need to purge. The problem is, I have been afraid of vomiting since I was a child. Can someone tell me how to start and what is the best way to do it? how long should I wait after eating, etc. I would be really grateful if someone could help me with this. I am able to do this because I know it will help me in this difficult time, I just need some guidance.

Sorry for my English, I'm not really good at it.

[edible-tobacco237]

~☆POV- watching mukbang videos during fasting, making u feel superior to those people turned into vacuum-food-cleaners☆~

[redvelvetwishtree]

TW Rape, Sodomy, Torture.

TW Israel but no trigger warning for israel supporters who conveniently ignore evidence

[1heartfanfics]

Hi, I write sickfics too. But I'd love a sickfic written for me this time. Lol. Either a really sick Dean needing Sam to care for him, maybe after a really bad hunt. Or super sick TK, needing his dad to call Carlos to take of him. Or maybe a really sick Bucky, with a freaked out Peter swinging around frantic to find Steve to help the man while in the middle of a fire fight. :) Emeto galore would be much appreciated. Pretty please!!!

okay so I decided to write it for tarlos because I just watched the mid season finale, but let me know if you want me to do the supernatural one too.

Also this ended up getting a bit de-railed toward the end and being more about Owen coming to terms with the fact that T.K. has Carlos now and doesn't need him as much as he used to instead of actual caretaking. Whoops 🤷‍♀️

warning: depictions of vomit, brief mention of addiction history

T.K. had woken up with a headache. But that wasn’t uncommon, side effect of being a recovered addict he’d been told. So he didn’t think about it too much.

But it kept getting worse, even though he’d been sure to drink enough water and eat throughout the day. And then he realized when he helped Nancy lift a patient onto a gurney that his whole body ached. 

“You good?” Nancy had asked.

“Fine,” T.K. responded shortly. Nancy gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him, but she let it drop. 

By the end of their next call, he was dizzy and cold. They’d just dropped the patient at the hospital and we’re heading back to the station. 

“Hey. What’s wrong with you?” Nancy asked as she drove, glancing over at T.K., who was practically slumped against the window in the passenger seat. 

T.K. shrugged, “Not feeling super great I guess,” he admitted. 

“You need to tell Captain Vega dude,” she said as she pulled the ambulance into the station bay. 

“Shifts almost over anyway,” T.K. shrugged again, shaking his head. 

But then as soon as they’d parked the klaxon sounded. ‘Aid car BLANK requested’

“Alright then, let’s just head back out,” Tommy called from the back of the ambulance. 

Nancy shot T.K. a look. His face was pale, even more than it already had been. T.K.’s stomach, which had become increasingly upset for the past hour or so, suddenly flipped. He knew he was done for. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, then threw the door open and practically fell out, landing on his knees with a retch that brought his lunch up onto the floor of the station. 

“Woah!” Someone said, then T.K. felt a hand on his shoulder and his back. 

“Who else is a certified medic?” Another voice asked, Tommy maybe. Everything sounded far away and T.K.’s head was spinning. 

“Yo Marj! Paul!” The voice behind him yelled. Judd, T.K. could tell now.

There were footsteps approaching and then “Woah what happened to him?”

“One of you take T.K.’s place in the rig with Tommy and Nancy. The other one of y’all go get captain strand,” Judd instructed. 

T.K. could hear people running around, then the siren as the rig pulled back out of the station.

"Come on brother, let's get you up," Judd said, grabbing T.K. under his arms and pulling him to his feet. With Judd's help, he walked unsteadily over to one of the benches the firefighters use to put their boots on. As soon as he was sitting he slumped over, head in his hands as he breathed through another wave of nausea.

"T.K.? What happened?" his Dad was asking, suddenly at T.K.'s side with a hand on his shoulder.

When T.K. didn't answer Owen turned to Judd for answers.

"I just saw him spill out of the rig to hurl on the floor, that's all I know. You'd have to ask the girls but they had to run back out on a call. I sent Marj with 'em since they're down a medic," Judd shrugged.

"Thanks Judd," Owen sighed. "I've got him, you can get back to whatever you were working on."

"You sure? Cause he's looking pretty green cap," Judd pointed out.

"Son? Are you still feeling nauseous?" Owen asked.

T.K. just groaned in response, he didn't think he'd ever felt this sick in his life. It had gotten so bad so quickly. He was going to throw up again.

Thankfully Judd was on it, and a trash can magically appeared between T.K.'s knees just in time for him to heave over it. His body convulsed with another gag which brought up more of his stomach contents into the bin.

"Aw jeez kiddo," Owen muttered, sitting down beside T.K. to wrap an arm around him and rub a hand up and down his arm.

T.K. coughed and spit into the trash can, willing his stomach to stop contracting. There wasn't anything left in it to bring up. He felt so weak, like he could hardly hold himself up.

"Woah alright, I've gotcha," Judd was sitting on his other side, an arm wrapped around his chest to keep him from falling forward. T.K. dropped his head down into his hands again, elbows propped on his knees to keep himself upright.

Once Judd was confident that T.K. was stable enough, he pulled back, looking over at Owen. "We need to get him laying down," he said.

Owen nodded, "I think I'm just going to take him back to the house. You mind taking over for the rest of the day?" he asked.

"Of course cap, whatever you need," Judd agreed.

"T.K.? I'm going to get my stuff and then we'll go home okay?" Owen said, leaning down to try and meet his son's eyes.

T.K.'s eyes were shut, but he shook his head in response.

"No?" Owen asked, confused.

T.K. shook his head again, "Just call Carlos, please," he said quietly.

"Right. Of course," Owen was taken by surprise, although he really shouldn't have been. T.K. had moved in with Carlos months ago, that was his home now. And Carlos was T.K.'s person, the one he wanted to take care of him.

He looked at Judd, who nodded, silently answering Owen's unspoken request to stay with T.K. while he called Carlos.

"Your dad's calling Carlos now, I'm sure he'll be here soon to get you home. Just hang in there," Judd said, rubbing a hand over T.K.'s back.

As promised, after Owen returned from making the phone call, Carlos arrived within 10 minutes.

"Oh sweetheart," Carlos sighed when he spotted his boyfriend, hunched over a trash can.

Judd quickly stood up, allowing Carlos to take his spot. Carlos wrapped his arms around T.K., gently pulling him from the slumped position to rest against his chest. T.K. went willingly, pressing his face into Carlos's shoulder.

"Thank you for calling me," Carlos said, addressing Owen.

Owen nodded, smiling softly as he watched Carlos take care of his son. He hadn't missed the way that T.K. instantly relaxed a little at Carlos's touch.

"Let's get you home baby," Carlos said quietly. T.K. nodded, letting Carlos help him to his feet with a hand on his elbow and his waist.

"Let me know if you guys need anything," Owen told Carlos.

"Thank you," Carlos nodded, "I've got him, Owen," he added, seeing the worry on the captain's face.

Owen nodded, reaching out to softly clap Carlos on the shoulder, "I know you do." Carlos gave him one last nod, then wrapped an arm around T.K.'s waist and slowly guided him out of the station toward his car.

As much as Owen worried about T.K., he was realizing that maybe he didn't need to as much anymore. Because while most of T.K.'s previous boyfriends hadn't treated him very well, he had Carlos now. Carlos, who clearly loved and cared for T.K. so much. Owen was glad they had found each other.

[b1zmuth]

The Mishaps of SITE:DD | Obey Me! x Reader

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[File 2] \\ 5K words

SC \\ Monsters, gore, the SCP foundation, you date everyone ig… slight angst but with a happy ending, fluff, sci-fi, experimenting, mentioned suicide, everyone is a little off their rocker, you are NOT innocent!! I'll add more tags later..

TL;DR - Think the SCP Foundation, but you are the researcher who unfortunately gets assigned to Seven Keter classified objects. 

EXTREME TW's : graphic depictions of vomiting and death smelling objects + small suicide mentioning // be extremely wary of this when reading! thanks!

---------------------------------------------------------

Open FILE.[FOLDER_2]? > Please select one option. (Yes/Yes) . . . FILE.[FOLDER_2] Opening.. Please wait.

Oh, brother.

Now you were seriously in for it.

Just imagine; you decided to take a risky gamble on some paperwork that you didn't read thoroughly- ended up signing some… papers, that ended up with you viciously hurling the contents of your lunch right back up your windpipe and into the toilet.

Seriously! You were so screwed- unbelievably at that.

Due to your risky signage of those papers, you accidentally signed off on volunteering with a partner for ‘’SCP EXPERIMENTATIONS’’, which translated to ‘’Oh yeah btw we don't have enough on-fielders to sacrifice so heres a volunteering sheet with 4x the pay if you sign up and you have zero guarantee of not being assigned to a keter class so if you sign off on this your kinda fucked ngl lmao’’

And there goes another chunk of your overpriced egg and cheese sandwich.

‘’You are expendable.’’

‘’Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! I should have never took- that f-FUCKING risk, of course, Jesus Christ himself damns me to an early d-death by being slaughtered by a SCP. just fantastic! I should start writing a will- yes, yes! Write a will… but to who? I don't have any family… oh fuck me! Everything seems to get worse by the second in this hellhole!’’ You practically whisper-shouted at yourself, causing anyone who happened to pass by the private bathroom to start questioning your mental sanity- your hot tears and snot dripping down your face and dropping into the toilet, causing your somewhat visible reflection to ripple in the murky water- the ringing in your ears seeming to increase in volume with every shaky breath you managed to suck in.

“If only you didn’t take that risk. You know, this is all your fault.’’

You looked at your messy reflection, watching your own reflection slowly ripple into an undistinguishable mess of swirls and blobs of food- the pungent smell filling your nostrils and causing you to gag and quickly back up away from the toilet, a cold sweat rushing all over your body. ‘’Maybe you're right. It is my fault.’’ you let the tears fall once more, not even attempting to wipe your face for some type of decency if someone were to walk in.

‘’This is my penance for what I’ve done.’’ ‘’This is your penance for what you’ve done.’’

. . . Everything is getting brighter- so bright. Is this real life? . .

The door to the bathroom opens and quickly shuts- a mess of a purple and peachy-colored blob rushes in and kneels in front of you- waving a tanned…something, that you couldn’t even make out somewhere near your face- the ringing in your ears masking the already muffled voice of the purple blob- ‘’MC? God, it reeks in here- are you okay?’’

What did that walking grape say to you? This damn ringing almost wouldn't even allow the reverberated sounds of your heavy breathing to make it to your ears- you can forget about it if anyone said anything outside of your ear-’’MC! Shit- we might have to get a medic- SOLOMOOON! COME QUICK!’’

While the purple-colored grape desperately used any method to get you responsive, your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, as if you were trying to speak, but nothing audible would come out, much to your frustration, the blob still didn't catch your goldfish movements even with the way you were tugging and pulling borderline anything to catch its attention- the light was getting brighter, and your vision was starting to turn red..you guessed you wouldn’t have long before…whatever this was put you out of your misery- so in a last-ditch effort, you put all your energy into screaming your final words.

‘’TELL THIRTEEN THAT I ENTRUST EVERYTHING TO HER!’’ . . . Wow. Well, at least your figurines wouldn’t end up in a Goodwill somewhere in Timbuktu.

And that was the last thing you said, or well, what YOU remember saying before you promptly blacked out and fully embraced your incoming divine judgment and thirty-minute express Uber to the deepest pits of Hell.

The only setback to this heavenly gift was that you woke up in one of the facility med bays, the blinding white light fooling you into thinking that one of the angels in heaven accidentally ordered the wrong Uber and sent you to the wrong place, until you rubbed your eyes and noticed that you were, in fact, not in heaven- but in the one place you had been begging Jesus to take the wheel and lead you directly out of this shithole.

You groaned at the sight, nearly tearing up at the notion that you had just passed out, and didn’t suddenly keel over and die in Thirteen’s bathroom. Fuck!

Mentally cursing at the higher being that stopped you from leaving your misery, you swung yourself out of bed and made a straight B-line for the nearest exit- ‘’Uh, excuse me?! Your supposed to be in bed and resting!’’ you heard a shrill and child-like voice speak from behind you, making you turn around in surprise to reveal a blonde-haired boy with blue eyes dressed in a regular doctoral outfit- and wait just a second, now that you look at him… that's a not a boy but a whole ass KID?? My god and you thought this place was bad enough- this was just downright wrong, alongside the numerous violations of public safety and multiple HIPPA violations, having child labor added to the tall order of lawsuits would NOT look so pretty on paper- maybe it really was time to start looking for a casket..

‘’Cmon! Back to bed!’’ The blonde ordered, watching you sluggishly walk back to your bed and settle in before you turned your head and stared at him for a solid 30 seconds before he finally got uncomfortable and spoke up again- ‘’Dah! Quit staring at me! If you're really that bothered by my appearance, I'm actually thousands of years older than you!’’ he looked at you with an annoyed look and pulled up a chair next to your bed.

‘’Okay, so what I'm hearing here is that you look like a whole child, and act like one too- but supposedly you are thousands of years old…yeahhh, I don't buy it.’’ You shook your head at the kid, watching how he looked at you with utter disbelief and shock, his body lurching forward- ‘’I- You do work here, or did the impact from your head hitting the bottom of Miss Thirteen’s bathroom floor scramble your brain THAT bad?’’ the boy smirked at you before he triumphantly sat back in his seat- totally oblivious to the seething person in front of him.

You weren't going to argue with this kid anymore- the blinding whites of this room were going to drive you insane if you didn't make a hasty dash to the nearest exit within the next MINUTE.

‘’Anyways, let's go back to square one- my name is Luke, I'm an angel that was recruited by the foundation to heal injured workers!’’ He flashed you a bright smile before he got a small pack of sweets out of his pocket and handed them to you- ‘’These are medicated sweets, they’ll help ease any pain your blackout may cause later on, I highly recommend that you take one now that your fully awake.’’ you nodded your head and thanked him for the sweets, popping a wing-shaped cookie into your mouth- feeling the sugary taste of the cookie practically melt inside of your mouth, surprisingly, with no hint of medication in it- ‘’..so, Luke, how long have I been out?’’

‘’About a day, Simeon was looking after you for most of it.’’ Luke responded, tilting his head to the side as he shot a nervous smile at your terrified face- ‘’I’ll bring you a cold towel..’’ . . . . . ‘’And then I assume you blacked out…again, which led up to now- when you're finally awake… Should I buy you some nausea medicine?’’ A worried Thirteen asked you, starting to rise out of the chair Luke was previously sitting in before you passed out for the second time- ‘’Y’know, being an On-Fielder isn't as bad as your making it out to be- just look at me and Solomon for example, yes, he is a complete and utter dumbass…BUT! He wouldn’t hurt me even if i tore him limb from limb.’’ She said, giving you a gentle smile as she held your hand in hers- to which you just shook your head at the gesture.

You gave her a small giggle- ‘’The way you looked like you fought a fully grown bear two weeks ago would say otherwise- and you say he wouldn’t hurt you.’’

‘’You're not getting the point here, MC! Im saying that there's no guaranteed chance that you’ll end up with a shitty anomaly-’’ you cut off Thirteen, ‘’But there's a possibility, right? As if! I've lived the past six years, somewhat, unscathed! I’d rather not be turned into a smear on the wall by some random beedogcat hybrid thing!’’ you lurched forward and told Thirteen, who just responded with a loud sigh- ‘’You practically stressing yourself half to death worrying about getting an anomaly that could quite literally just be Safe or Elucid!’’ She shook her head and gestured towards Luke, who was floating towards the both of you with a certain look on his face.

‘’MC- Simeon just dropped off this package for you, he says HR wants a confirmation soon..’’ he looked worried as he handed the yellow package to you, running off towards the office of the med-bay to, presumably, fetch you some more medicine for your upcoming blackout.

You now held the package in your hands, gingerly running the tips of your fingers alongside the edges of it, before you shot a desperate look at Thirteen- ‘’Im gonna be so pissed if you did allat yapping in my ear just for me to be assigned a Keter class.’’ you said before you opened the package and read the contents.

SCP EXPERIMENTATION | RESULTS . . . Thank you for volunteering for [SCP EXPERIMENTATION], MC, [REDACTED]

We value your humble contribution towards a new dawn with the substitution of a looming threat to humanity as a whole, and the contribution towards further research into the nature and behaviors of SCPs.

After careful consideration and sorting of MC, [REDACTED]’s personal file, your results have culminated to bring out your full potential as an [EXPERIENCED] On-Field Researcher, and your SCP’s full potential as an addition.

Your SCP’s details are listed below.

Item #: SCP-6667 Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-6667 is highly dangerous and any movement and/or action needs to be exercised with extreme caution due to its ██████████████, ███████-███████, ███ ████ ██….…

We sincerely hope that you and your newfound SCP further our push for research and safety with SCPs, and with your considerable predicted efforts, your pay will follow suit. Please be ready to meet your newfound subject(s) at a.m. 0300 hours from the moment you receive your package. - Matt, from HR.

* NOTE: The SCP Foundation is not liable for any on-site accidents or injuries via Non-SCP Anomalies. personnel loved ones are required to claim liabilities through a Personal Insurance Firm. (PIF)

It felt like your mouth was stuck agape as you stared at the paper in horror- constantly reading over the same word like it was a religion to you; Keter, Keter, Keter Keter, Keter, Keter, Keter, Keter, Keter. A fucking Keter.

A Keter class. The damn near kill-on-sight class which few researchers ever, and you meant- a few EVER survived. You would have already been pushing your luck if you made it out on the first DAY in one piece- let alone surviving another encounter with that class.

YOU. had been assigned to a Keter.

Starting to hyperventilate you desperately tried to clamor out of your bed- only to find yourself restrained to the bed with brown leather belts. And even as you screamed for Thirteen to help you out, she only stared at you with a blank expression on her face before the corners of her lips slowly curled into a toothless smile- ‘’You are expendable.’’ ..what?

Her body starts to curl on itself- her eyes now becoming soulless and morphing into pits of the void, her smile still being toothless and making you feel uneasy whenever you looked into it- ‘’You are a disgusting human being.’’ you heard her talk to you…but her mouth never seemed to move? You were suddenly startled by her neck stretching inhumanely long, long enough to the point where her nose started brushing up against your own, her mouth that was too close for comfort permeating the gut-wrenching stench and displeasure of death, that same smell that you swore you had gotten used to.

“If only you didn’t take that risk. You know, this is all your fault.’’ Her mouth stretched open, the stench getting worse and worse until you started dry heaving due to it- your eyes betraying your mind and the rest of your body as it gazed into the inhumanly stretched mouth of the former friend you called ‘’Thirteen’’, and you screamed as you finally saw what laid inside of its throat- a pale hand, which adorned yellow painted nails, emerged from the back of its throat desperately trying to claw its way towards you- ‘’No. No. no-NO! This isn't real- THIS ISNT FUCKING REAL!’’ you screamed now trying any possible way to get out of your restraints, thrashing back and forth to wiggle your way out, sweat now adorning your body like a heavy winter coat, your hair stuck to your face while your eyes stayed glued on the thing that you once called your friend- your breathing getting harder and harder as you took in more of the putrid smell of death-

And then it all stopped.

Thirteen was gone. The smell was gone. That voice was gone.

You lay in a white room filled with a multitude of different shaped and colored flowers, a gentle breeze flowing through the room blew in your favorite scent, and your ragged breathing slowed down with every deep breath you took.

It felt calming. Like you could finally breathe fresh air for the first time.

Your shrunk pupils darted across every inch of the room, scanning it for any hint of danger before you realized that you could feel something on top of your eyelids since whatever it was slightly twitched every time you blinked- you slowly raised your hands towards your eyes, softly landing them on something..warm? It felt like a hand, but who’s hand? Are you dreaming?

‘’Come find me, MC. Save Me.’’ You felt drowsy listening to the voice, but it wasn’t like the voice from earlier- it felt more calm, less sinister…who really was this talking to you? It had to be thirteen..or that guy Luke was talking about….it..couldn’t..be any- anyone….else?

Your thoughts dragged out as you felt your muscles twitch and shake, your mind slowly shutting down- before you woke up in a cold sweat.

You now found yourself back in the Med-Bay, still sitting in this damned bed, but now you were accompanied by a gorgeous dark-skinned male with beautiful brown fringed hair which was parted on the sides of his head due to his…head wings? Is he deaf? Nevermind… He sat in the same chair that Thirteen did, his head was tilted downwards toward a clipboard which had something that you couldn’t discern written on it.

He seemed to notice your presence as he looked up from his clipboard, setting it aside on the nearby nightstand as he brushed himself off- ‘’Welcome back, MC! I assume that Luke has told you about me, no?’’ you nodded your head. ‘’That's great, do you happen to feel any discomfort or dizziness? Any worrying feelings?’’ you shook your head no- ‘’I'm happy to hear you feel fine, especially after what just happened- here, I'm giving you some fludrocortisone acetate to help with your fainting.’’ He said in a cheerful tone, smiling at you again after handing you a glass of water.

You were parched. Your mouth damn near felt like a desert with how dry it felt, so this glass of water was a blessing in disguise for you, thank god for Simeon- ‘’Don't fret too much about your meeting, you have an hour to properly rest and get yourself into a better headspace- I’ll be right here at your side if you need someone to talk to as well.’’ he said, getting up from the chair to walk over towards the nearby bookshelf. well, at least you had an hour to recollect your thoughts and mentally prepare yourself for what could be very well the last moments of your life, ‘’what a pain it's going to be loading my tomato soup-looking ass into a coffin.’’ you slightly snickered at your joke before you rolled over and your mind wandered off elsewhere, your eyes subconsciously drifting over towards the now sitting Simeon, who was quietly reading a book beside your bed.

‘’Simeon.’’ He looks over towards you, his eyebrows raised- ‘’Would it be rude to ask if you and Luke are…y’know, non-human?’’ you asked, expecting him to go ballistic on you for asking such a question- I mean, it did happen to you once before when asking an angel that Thirteen was watching over- guy got SUPER pissed that you didn’t just use common sense and look at the winds that were hidden on his back (which were covered by his long hair), god, that guy was a fucking dick now that you think back on it.

Simeon only smiled as the wings on either side of his head flapped happily- ‘’It's not rude to ask a question that has a clear answer, Luke has wings as I do but he is just too young for his wings to be fully visible!’’ you smiled back at him, happy that he wasn’t being as much of a dick like the last angel you asked this question to- ‘’How come you dont have a halo then?’’ ‘’It's too much of a problem to have floating on the back of my head, I tried to make it work but alas it ended up getting stuck trying to get through a door..’’ he shook his head whilst lowly chuckling to himself, ‘’Anyways, I'd love to keep on talking with you but I think we’re out of time here- but please don't start worrying! I specifically put in a medical request for Thirteen to accompany you during your time with your SCP…or well, Thirteen practically begged me to do something to aid with your panic attacks.’’

Your heart dropped hearing him say anything that hinted towards your looming death, but you just sucked it up since you would be with Thirteen- someone who could write out your will and put all of your figurines to good use. Simeon waved you off and shouted something along the lines of ‘’letting Luke know that you are bidding farewell!’’ with you shouting a happy ‘’See you later!’’ back at him.

The walk of shame towards the meeting room was absurd.

Totally absurd because there were people literally prancing around the main floor with whole-ass deers, frolicking around with bees, and JUMPING for joy at their newfound SCPs. The fuck?! Are you just the mayor of Frown Town or are these people actually on some type of hardcore drug? Because there is no possible way that the foundation didn't give all of these people Safe class SCPs- if they were going to do this then how come you didn't get something that wouldn’t kill me on sight?

‘’Your results have culminated to bring out your full potential as an [EXPERIENCED] On-Field Researcher’’ Right. They looked through your file to personally assign you a specific SCP.

Well, despite this unnerving fact, you pushed forward, determined to at least get a glimpse of your personal grim reaper, this fact pushed you forward with some pep in your step until you pushed open the doors to the meeting room- Matt. goddamn Matt.

Of COURSE they decided to let Matt be the tour guide for this whole shitshow- the one person you wanted to stay away from you at all times was HERE and going to be walking around with you for a solid five minutes to your new laboratory- Jesus fuck! Was the foundation that determined to get you to kill yourself?? ‘’MC! Oh, it is so, so, great to see my new favorite employee looking so delighted about their new job promotion! Come! Let's turn this frown upside down!’’ Matt said with a disgustingly cheery tone, his annoying ass smile seemed to get brighter as your frown drooped even more as he grabbed your hand and guided you towards your gravestone- I'm sure you will looooooove your new SCP! He is very docile and kind-hearted, his only setback is that he sleeps a ton, so getting research out of him will SURELY be a hassle!’’ he let go of your hand and twirled a bit before grabbing your hand, again, and further leading you to the airlocked door of your new laboratory.

Okay, now you were convinced that everyone was on this newfound hardcore drug and that you were the only sane fucker in the facility- because what fucking Keter class is DOCILE and KIND-HEARTED? Either Matt is a complete and utter dumbass who is totally oblivious to the most important aspect of his job or he genuinely didn’t know about the class you were assigned to.

Matt opened the door for you, ushering you inside as he explained the password system to your lab, giving you the code on a sticky note, and walking over to a panel that had several buttons on it as he flicked on a button which turned on the lights in the ‘’research station’’ as he calls it before he beckoned you over to him- ‘’And now for the grand reveal..! I, Matt, will be giving MC the honor of revealing their SCP!’’ he squealed, looking at you with a ‘’Hurry up and push that button’’ look as you just sighed and flicked on the switch next to the one he already turned on- with the lights slowly turning on to reveal a… Cow? No, human-cow cosplaying human curled up in the corner? What??

‘’Okay Matt, I'm going to be straight with you- what in the actual fuck is this? This isn't an SCP, it's some random guy cosplaying a cow that you plucked out of an anime convention!’’ You looked at Matt with a dumbfounded look as you looked back at the sleeping cow-cosplaying man before looking back at Matt- ‘’Oh yes it is, MC, that is in fact not a human but an SCP, he’s just assuming a human-like form to fool the task force into thinking he is docile. Not saying that he is violent, he just seems to not like his sleeping to be disturbed.’’ did Matt think you were that stupid? ‘’Matt, what the actual fuck are you talking about? ‘’Oh YeAh, He’S DoCiLe!’’ THAT MOTHERFUCKER IS ASSUMING A FORM TO FOOL PEOPLE INTO COMING INTO HIS ENCLOSURE! No, and I mean NO docile ANYTHING assumes a form to lure people into its habitat! How the hell can you actually look me in my face and tell me that it's DOCILE?!’’ you angrily pointed towards the still sleeping cowman

Matt's tone darkened, ‘’Let's not forget our positions here, or do you really want a black mark that badly? Either way, you have a job to do- valuable research to provide to the Foundation, i highly suggest you start moving to assess the SCP’s danger level- now, please. He told you, handing you a briefing file that you didn’t even know he had with him- your eyes quickly scanning over the material of said file, landing on one specific word before you looked up and stared into the soul of poor Matt.

It's like the fucker wanted you eliminated and wiped off of the face of the earth at his earliest convenience! This was downright ridiculous- get into the enclosure WITH a demon Keter class? Are you serious? fuuuuuck that.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance, ‘’Oh godfuckingdammit! Give me a break! A COW! A COW!! A DEMON COW AT THAT! You’ve got to be joking- seriously! If I walk in that THING’s enclosure I'm going to be not pushing 26 but fuckin’ DAISIES! Matt, I don't think you understand the problem here, You're putting me in the same room as a KETER- do you want me dead that bad?’’

Matt shook his head- ‘’Get in the enclosure, the black mark doesn't argue back nor does the rest of HR, after all, they will side with me, once again.’’

‘’Fuck you, Matt.’’ You said whilst angrily punching in the code to the enclosure- cautiously walking into the brightly lit room as you had a one-man staredown with the cow before you softly tapped your foot, attempting to wake it without immediately being torn limb from limb- and somehow you succeeded- having a grumbling, somewhat pissed, cow look at you like you just kicked a puppy and napalmed an orphanage, and kicked someone's grandma down a flight of stairs- god how much you missed the Med-Bay now��

Now that you could get a clear view of your short-time good ol’ buddy and pal- you could see his outfit clearly; somewhat blue hair with white streaks on the tips, a tired look adorning his face, and a blue jacket with a hood that he paired with an olive colored pair of pants, with damn near knee high brown boots- what in the actual fuck was this guy wearing? Damn, where did they FIND this man?

‘’What do you want?’’

What in the fuck- who said that? You thought to yourself, glancing back to an empty lab with no Matt in sight- oh that fucker REALLY wanted you dead. ‘’Fucking Matt…’’

Was it that voice that was nagging you about being a bad person and this that and the third earlier? Maybe it was… him?

‘’Was that you who just said that?’’ you stared at the cow who was lying down on the ground, watching it for any movement in its mouth before you heard the voice again- ‘’Yes, now answer my question already.’’- were you actually going schizophrenic or something? Because you were just staring at his mouth and didn't move one bit when you heard the voice- ‘’The fuck? Are you talking telepathically?’’ you asked the cow, only to get a now angry response- ‘’Are you deaf? Or just willfully being ignorant? Do you have zero sense of danger?’’

That's right, that cow was asking you to answer its question- ‘’I want the same thing as you do, for me to get the fuck outta here. I don't know if you saw that guy back there but he FORCED me to be in here with you.’’ You gestured to the empty room across from the both of you before you noticed something small and pink on the glass window- and you couldn’t get to it due to the walking threat lying down in front of you, especially the fact that any sudden movement could aggravate this guy and send you 6ft under, pushing daisies.

‘’So you're stuck here too, that guy wrote on that paper something about how he locked the doors for bonding time’’ The cow gestured towards the pink paper that was on the window, and then looked back at you.

Without missing a beat, he suddenly appeared in front of you and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing it with some considerable force since your face slightly twitched at the sudden cutoff of oxygen, and the cow did NOT seem to like that result as he let up with the squeezing- ‘’You really don't have any sense of danger, huh?’’ at this point, you didn’t even try to fight his grip, you just shrugged and accepted your fate- ‘’I do have a sense of danger- I just knew what type of bullshit I would be going into, but y’know, I'm forced to work with you. No point in having a sense of danger if you're just going to die by the end of the business day.’’

He sighed and fully let go of you, walking back to his previous spot in the corner and curling up into a ball, hiding his face from the bright lights of the room- ‘’How boring, it's no fun killing you if you're already wanting to die, that's like im granting your shitty wish. I'm a demon, not a genie.

‘’If you're a demon then go do us both a solid and kill that fucker, Matt!’’ you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes at the thought of his eventual return- ‘’What exactly did this Matt guy do to you for his name to be accompanying some form of death every five fucking seconds in your head?! You need to take anger management classes or something.’’

This fucking sassy fuck- ‘’It's because Matt sat there and LOCKED me in a room with YOU, no offense by the way, all for the purpose of killing me- like what type of psychopath sits there and leaves the glory of watching your greatest enemy be killed in real-time to go frolic around in an imaginary field or whatever he does in his free time! It's borderline stupid!’’

‘’Not only that, the guy keeps on babbling on about how you're so docile and kind-hearted!’’ You finished your rant about Matt, laying down against the cold, hard tiles and staring up into the ceiling- ‘’what a dumbass.’’ ‘’Tell me about it- the guys been doing nothing but riding my ass for the past six years and the moment he got a promotion he starts going on a whole tangent about how he’s so important and that he’ll put a mark on me if I step out of line- fucking power-tripping!’’

‘’And he got this promotion because why?’’

‘’Because he [DATA EXPURGED BY ADMIN_M], [REDACTED].’’

The cow seemed to pause at your words before he uncurled himself and stared at you, much to your dismay- ‘’He… did what to [REDACTED]?’’

‘’Yeah, he did, the only and probably only SCP I will ever trust again. And he [DATA EXPURGED BY ADMIN_M], and I hate his fucking guts for it- I sometimes wonder about her family she used to tell me stories about… I really wanted to meet some of her older brothers if our plan worked.’’

‘’Tell me about these stories [REDACTED] told you, now.’’ ‘’It's not like I have anything better to do.’’ . . . . . . . . . ‘’She really was the light of the foundation, making the suicide rate in this damned place drop to an all-time low! Hell, even the SCPs themselves enjoyed her presence, and that's impressive to get that senile old man down the hallway to shut the fuck up with his happy-go-lucky attitude.’’

Rename FILE.[FOLDER_2]? > Please select one option. (Yes/Yes)

Enter a new name for FILE.[FOLDER_2]. > [Paranoia] . . .

Saving FILE.[PARANOIA].. Please wait..

<<< ''Do you really want to go back?'' || ''Are you sure you want to return?'' >>>

[bajablasttacobell]

Mirrored Perspectives

Tw: Vomiting, ED

———————————

The door locked behind them; excitement filled the air, they had just won another round of Mingle. Thanos immediately turned to Namgyu pulling him in for a hug as celebration, of course. This round was two to a room and he chose Namgyu because who else? Min su was way to wimpy and he had not seen Semi since rock paper scissors and well Gyeong su was gone.

As he embraced the hug he was startled for a moment. Despite the baggy tracksuits they were given as he had hugged Namgyu he found that Namgyu was incredibly thin. If he wanted to he could fit his hands around his waist.

He looked up but Namgyu didn’t falter so Thanos chose to ignore it for the moment. He took in the moment and relaxed a second. “We did it, boy!” Thanos said to him as he went to the little window in the door and peered out. People had got shot and were finally getting cleaned up. There was a girl right below the door. Blood was everywhere.

Thanos failed to feel empathy for her maybe it was from the pill he took earlier. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t feel sorry for her, but he didn’t think for to long before he felt a presence against him. Leaning against his back a hand crawled up his chest.

The hand played with his necklace a little bit before he finally turned to face him. “How about it Thanos one more?” Namgyu pleaded the look in his eyes was desperate. Thanos liked that look he wanted Namgyu to beg for him. He might have accepted this proposal if Namgyu was on his knees.

“We have to be careful with these Namsu im already running low.” He replied. Namgyu scoffed he knew it was bull he had seen Thanos open it and there were plenty more in there. “It’s Namgyu.” He said.

“Namgyu, Namsu it’s all the same you’re still the same little junkie at heart.” Thanos replied playing with him. Namgyu did not laugh at that though and only seemed displeased with his answer. He didn’t understand how Thanos couldn’t get his name right but got Minsu’s every time.

The speakers called out requiring all remaining players to return to the main hall, and with that all the doors unlocked. Thanos left the room with Namgyu still hovering around him with a glare at Minsu who walked out a few doors down.

TIME SKIP——————

It was finally meal time and Thanos waited in line impatiently fidgeting in the long line. “ Dude what the hell is taking so long?” He whispered to Namgyu. “ We’ve only been waiting like five minutes at most.” Namgyu rolled his eyes replying back.

Thanos ignored this and kept looking around. They eventually got their food and walked back to the bunks. They sat down and Thanos immediately unraveled the food to find a fork? He found it odd but began eating he was so distracted by the time he was finally done when he looked up. There sat Namgyu.

His food only had a bite or two taken off it. He sat staring deep in thought at the food. His expression was straight disgust. “Namsu.” Thanos called “What’s up?” Namgyu replied not even noticing Thanos mispronunciation of his name. “Why are you not eating we need to be in our best shape for tomorrow.” Thanos said.

Namgyu paused before handing the food over to Thanos. “Not hungry.” Thanos looked at the food then at Namgyus hand which was frail looking. He pushed the food back to Namgyu. “Nah” Thanos simply said. He took a moment and finally looked at Namgyus face he had heavy eye bags and his face was unnaturally thin. Namgyu only stared back at Thanos before suddenly standing up.

“Im going to the bathrooms you should keep eating.” Namgyu said. Thanos didnt see any reason to follow him so he stayed and kept eating. Namgyu made it to the bathrooms where it was empty. Just himself, alone. He went up to a mirror and again had a disgusted look on his face. His hands crept up to his face and he felt the fat on his cheeks.

“God.. I’m fuckin huge.” Namgyu whispered to himself before taking one final look at himself. Inside he felt repulsed at himself for letting himself get like this. The pills made things a little better when he didn’t have to think for a while. Before he had to come back to reality and face that he was so undesirable.

The feeling only got greater when he was in school; kids always picked on him for being bigger. Namgyu hated himself he hated how no matter what he did he couldn’t lose the weight. Food was his worst enemy.

Namgyu snapped himself out of it and walked over to a stall before locking it. He got on his knees and leaned over the toilet. He contemplated why he cared so much what others thought. He knew the reason though. What was he if he was hideous in others eyes. His mother always had something to say about him, his personality, his interests, his looks, especially his looks. Everyone always had something to say.

His skin itched, the words always dug so deep and lingered he couldn’t move on until he was perfect in their eyes. In everyone’s eyes. In Thanos eyes.

He rose his hand up and shoved his fingers down his throat. He started to gag as tears started down his face. He felt it all come up. His food from the previous day and earlier. He was truly nasty. He sat there for a moment and thought of every mean thing that he couldn’t forget. He was so deep in his thoughts he would never be able to get out.

After he cleaned himself up a little with the toilet paper. He felt it wasn’t enough it never was though and leaned against the stall walls and felt the tears come down. He sobbed to himself wanting anyone to reach out and help him but he never could tell them. He would never say a word on how messed up he was inside.

Namgyu paused as he heard the bathroom door creak open, stifling his tears he tried to remain quiet. “Namsu are you in here?” God he never got his name right. He wanted to break down a little at the thought of how irrelevant he must be to not even have his name remembered.

He quickly got up and pulled himself together not wanting Thanos to know what happened. He took another breath and reminded himself that he couldn’t tell another soul a word. No one could know. He unlocked the door and came out. He looked over at Thanos. “What?” He asked. He walked over the sink and started washing his hands.

“Just wondering what was taking so long you were in here for like,” Thanos paused and looked down at his wrist as if he had a watch on. “ like twenty minutes dude wanted to make sure you didn’t fall in or…. have you been crying?” Thanos took a look at Namgyus eyes that were yes dilated from the pills but red from something else. Namgyu paused his look turned from the sink to the mirror. He immediately wiped his cheeks then his eyes.

“Dude, no it’s just from whatever you gave me earlier.” He replied nudging his elbow to Thanos necklace. Thanos knew he was lying because his eyes weren’t red at all. Namgyu began to walk towards the door passing by Thanos his shoulder hit the other man’s. “Come on let’s go back I think the vote is going to start again.”

Thanos paused and thought if he should confront Namgyu on his obvious lie. He decided against it, it wasn’t really his business anyway. He thought to himself though that Namgyu has been acting weird. He might talk to him later. Namgyu walked in front of him letting his last tear slip out before catching it not wanting Thanos to see how easily he was breaking down. It was trivial and he would never want to bother Thanos with his own personal problems.

——————————-

I wanted to try writing something so lmk any mistakes or suggestions down below! Should I make a second part?

[montywithchildhoodtrauma]

Lucifer short!

Warning! This short has self harm, vomiting, suicidal thoughts, intrusive thoughts, hunger, purging, vomiting, depression, and implied self harm. If any of this triggers you in anyway shape or from, please, for your safety, don't read!

tic tok, tic tok tic...

Lucifer was beginning to regret getting a clock.

tic tok, tic tok, tic tok...

He lifted his head, bleary eyes trying to focus on the round little clock on his bedside table. 4:23... It was if it was taunting him...

tic tok, tic tok, tic tok...

He could easily break the dam thing, but then there would be glass and metal all over the floor, and he didn't want to deal with that at the moment. Well there was one thing he could do.... The scratches on his thighs and upper arms throbbed for a moment and the idea of adding more cuts to himself at the moment made him feel queasy and sick. (Even if he did deserve it.)

tic tok, tic tok, tic...

Lucifer groaned as he forced himself to sit up slowly, his mouth was dry and it felt like someone shoved sandpaper down his throat. He wasn't sick, he knew that. Something else was wrong (Stop being such a whiny bitch, nothings wrong you're just being stupid.) but what?

tic tok, tic tok, tic...

Well, besides the fact that it was 4 in the morning and he hadn't slept at all in the last 38 hours. Had he forgotten to do something? Something that Charlie or Vaggie had asked him to do?

tic tok, tic tok, tic...

Lucifer winced as his stomach curled in on itself tightly, riiight, food. Wasn't that some sort of necessity? Lucifer laughed dryly at his unspoken joke, then winced as his stomach tied itself into a bunch of knots. It wouldn't hurt to get a small snack... it was almost morning anyway. (You know you don't deserve it, why go through all the trouble of getting food just to get rid of it again?)

tic tok, tic tok, tic tok...

Well, it wasn't like he was gonna fall asleep anytime soon, he might as well go get a snack. Lucifer flung the thick blanket off of his legs, he didn't move for a moment, he just stared at the floor. It wasn't that far down, but his legs trembled at the idea of actually getting up out of bed. (Its funny to think about how you're the king of hell when you can't even do something as simple as getting out of bed)

tic tok, tic tok, tic tok...

Lucifer whined and pressed his hands over his ears, his legs curled up against his chest.

tic tok, tic tok, tic tok...

He was vaguely aware that he reeked of sweat and musk, probably from being in this warm as fuck room. Sweet Caroline, he needed a shower.

tic tok, tic tok, tic tok...

"Shut up, shut up, shut up-" His stomach twisted tighter and the fresher cuts threatened to open up again at the new friction they were put under.

tic tok, tic tok, tic tok...

Lucifer screamed in frustration and hurled the clock across the room, it hit the wall with a loud crack. (Great, you broke something else. Can't you do anything without hurting something? Maybe Lilith would have stayed if you weren't such a fuck up.)

tic tok, tic tooooo-

The clock sprung apart pathetically, spraying that part of the room in mechanical gears, metal, and glass. Lucifer stared at the mess numbly, not quite registering what just happened. His throat hurts worse now and he was no closer to getting out of bed than before. (You can't even handle having a clock! What are you going to hurt the next person who talks to you? Maybe thats why Charlie didn't call you for years)

Well, he was already in bed, why not stay there for a few more minutes? He could get something to eat later...

Pulling the blanket back over him, Lucifer nestled himself back into the too warm bed and forced his eyes shut.

Knock knock knock

"Dad?" Lucifer groaned and tugged the blanket tightly over his head, how could he be so stupid? He lived with people now! He can't afford to throw things around all willy nilly!

"Dad? Are you okay? Vaggie said she heard something break" Charlie's voice careened through the door and hit the side of Lucifer's already throbbing head.

Fuck if Charlie saw him now, what would she think? "Oh yeah! I just thought I uh... saw something" Oh yeah totally nailed that one. Lucifer winced and gripped his throat, it was the first time he really used it in the past two days and fuck, it stung.

"Uh, well can I come in? I know its late but, no one has seen you in days..." Lucifer flicked on a light and cringed at the state of his room, then looked down at himself.

"W-well I- I'm not exactly dressed?" That was somewhat true, he was wearing his binder, (That counted as sleep clothes, right?) and a pair of shorts, almost every weak point on him was exposed and practically glowed in the dim lamp light. "It is 4 in the mor-" Lucifer broke off with a cough and dimly wondered when the last time he drank water was.

"Are you alright?" The doorknob rattled and Lucifer froze. Fuuuck he remembered to lock the door right? Right?

"Yeah! I'm fine! I've just been doing- things" he dragged his blanket up to his chest and broke into a coughing fit, his headache pounding with each cough. This was fine! He was fine-

"Dad," The doorknob turned slowly and Lucifer swore he could feel his heart stop, "I'm sorry, I'm coming in."

"NO! DON'T! I'm FINE!" Lucifer scrambled out of bed and managed to slam the door shut before he slid down it and clutched his head tightly, "J- just leave me alone for a bit, yeah? I'll be down later today" He could hear Charlie yelp and shuffle away from the door. Fuck! Did he hurt her? It was silent for a moment before he could hear Charlie slowly start to walk away.

"Alright, I'll see you later then..." Fuck, Charlie sounded so sad... Lucifer glanced at his day outfit and looked down at himself. He snapped himself 'clean' and made himself look presentable before he pushed the door open and quickly grabbed Charlie's wrist. The taller glanced down at him, surprised.

"Hey-" don't throw up, don't throw up, holy shit- don't throw up- "I'm sorry, I'm just a little... stressed at the moment"

Charlie looked him up and down for a moment and Lucifer was promptly reminded of her mother, she wore the same calculating gaze as Lilith did. It was almost uncanny.... "Not that I don't believe that but uh, what have you been doing for the past two days?" Charlie tilted her head to the side, her disheveled hair falling over her shoulder.

"Just uh, king stuff" Lucifer choked back a cough, "You know, its not easy running hell!" Lucifer puffed his chest up proudly, it really wasn't! Charlie looked unconvinced, but what was he supposed to tell her? That he had been stuck in bed for the past few days, unable to sleep? That he had been hurting himself? That he had been breaking shit in his room because of a stupid headache?

She would hate him.

"Alright" Charlie said slowly, still unconvinced. She shifted her captured wrist to gently hold Lucifer's trembling hands. Her face lit up and Lucifer then knew she came up with another grand plan, "Well, it's not good to work nonstop! Sooo~" She bounced on her feet, Lucifer watched her, vaguely wondering where all her energy was coming from.

"I'm making today a mandatory relaxation day!" Charlie grinned at her father, "Not just for you but for everybody! We can drink hot chocolate, read, watch tv~! OOOH! Do each other's nails! I know Angel and Nifty would love that!"

Lucifer swallowed thickly "Yeah, I'm sure they would!" Charlie glanced down at her father as if just remembering that he was there.

She frowned and took his other hand, "are you sure, you're alright?" Holy hell why did she have to have such a big heart?

Lucifer tried to give her a convincing smile, "I promise I'll let you know when I'm not" Charlie heaved a sigh of relief and let go of his hands. The lie felt sour in his mouth but it was fine. He could handle himself!

"Alright, be downstairs in the lobby at breakfast time, kay?" Before he could answer she was already bounding down the hallway and slamming her door shut.

Lucifer stood there for a moment, wondering what in the nine rings of hell he had gotten himself into.

...

Breakfast... was loud. At some point Angel had gone from very loudly hitting on him and practically sitting on his lap to helping Husker at the bar once the grumpy bartender made his existence known. Alastor was, thankfully, not anywhere to be found, but he had learned that was often the Radio demons way. He didn't show up unless something particularly interesting was happening. Beside Lucifer was Charlie who was excitedly talking to Vaggie about her plans for the day.

Lucifer dimly wondered if Charlie had a plan for everything she was doing. He pushed around his food for a bit, trying to keep his pounding headache at bay as he tried to follow what Fran? Fred? Frannie? The egg thing, was saying.

Though he had been told that most of what they said was complete and utter nonsense. (Much like the things you make. No one really cares about your creations, or about you) Lucifer stabbed his hash browns and pushed them around, not really feeling like eating despite how his mouth was watering at the smell and his stomach curled with hunger at the food in front of him.

"-d"

He really didn't deserve it anyway. (Why should anyone waste food on someone like you? It's only a matter of time before someone kicks you out of here)

"ad!"

Perhaps he could get away with eating a little and then claim he was full? Would that work?

"DAD!" Lucifer winced and looked up from his plate and stared at Charlie.

"Y-eah?" Lucifer stammered looking up from his plate, Charlie looked at Lucifer, concern riddled all over her face, oh boy she would never win a card game ever.

"I asked if you were okay, you've hardly touched your food" Oh... shit.

Lucifer chuckled dryly, "Yeah, I'm just not feelin' too hungry this morning." Why did it feel like someone was staring at him? Lucifer glanced behind him to look at the bar where Husker was staring at him, one eyebrow arched. Lucifer bit his bottom lip and decided to just ignore the demon, slowly turning his attention back to Charlie, who was still staring at him with her doe like eyes.

"Well, can you eat like... half of your food? You haven't come out to eat in days"

"Charlie... I'm really not hungry" Was it just him, or did the invisible gaze of Husk get sharper?

"Please?" Charlie begged and Lucifer swore he could see stars in her eyes, "For me?"

Oh fuck him. His inability to say no to Charlie would lead to his second fall. Lucifer sighed and twirled his fork in his hand for a moment before he stabbed his hash browns again and chewed on it slowly. Holy fuck- when was the last time he actually ate? Oh fuuuck this was so god dammed good-

Lucifer didn't notice Charlie and Vaggie fist bump in a small celebration as he began to stuff his face full, finishing off half his plate in a matter of seconds. A hand rested on Lucifer's shoulder and the shorter man went stiff, a piece of meat hanging from his mouth as his pupils shrank to the size of pins "Daaam, its not like it's gonna get up and walk away from ya', yer eatin' like its your last meal" did Lucifer ever mention he didn't like being touched while eating? He snapped and growled at Angel, pulling his plate closer to his chest.

It was his. All his. Don't fucking take it- Angel put up one set of hands in mock arrest, a look of surprise covering his face for a moment. "Je-sus- he almost bit my hand off!" Angel whined, heels clicking as he stepped back from Lucifer as the shorter snapped at him again before he returned back to his plate, eating faster this time while also glancing at the spider warily.

"This may come as a surprise to you Angel, but not everyone likes being touched" Vaggie said, hand resting on Charlies as if she needed to pull her girlfriend away from the king at a moments notice.

"Uh, dad?" Charlie leaned her head down to look at Lucifer, who at some point, dropped his fork in favor of just stuffing his face with his hands. He glanced up at her, eyes still wide and pupils small.

"You're ok, no one's gonna take your food, it's yours. We have more if you want more, ok?" She outstretched her hand, palm up, Lucifer froze again, a low growl coming from the back of his throat. It was his-

"Uh, princess, I think it might be best if we leave the short feral man alone" Angel said, walking swiftly behind the two as Vaggie nodded in agreement.

"Yeaaah, he doesn't seem too... stable, at the moment" Husker gruffed and Lucifer's gaze snapped to where the winged cat now stood. Charlie shushed the three and let her head rest on the table, hand still as she locked eyes with her father.

"Its okay. He won't hurt me. He never has, and he never will" Charlie's voice was soft and gentle, Lucifer glanced at her hand again leaning forward slowly to sniff at it. His eyes darted up at her again befo- what in the ever loving hell was he doing?! Lucifer sat up, trying to shake off the weird daze he had settled in as he glanced around at the group and then at his gloved hands. Dammit, he really liked these gloves...

"Dad? Are you al-"

"PEACHY!" Lucifer grinned (God, his head hurt), "Apologies for..." Lucifer looked down at his plate, food was splattered on the table next to it "The... mess, BUUT!" He quickly stood up and picked up his plate, (More- he needed more- it wasn't enough- fuck, he was so god damn hungry-) "I need to go clean myself up for the rest of the days activity's!" He quickly exited the room before anyone could stop him.

...

The food felt heavy in his stomach, (Nasty bitch, stuffing your face like the rat you are) Lucifer quickly walked past his covered mirror and made a beeline for the toilet. He ripped his gloves off and stuffed his fingers down his throat.

...

Thankfully, no one talked about what had happened during breakfast or asked about what he was doing during the hour he was gone, much to his relief. He couldn't stop himself from squirming in his seat as Husker grumpily painted his nails. It was very clear the taller demon hadn't liked Lucifer snapping at his friend, not that Lucifer didn't feel bad. He very much did feel bad!

But- Huskers own claws were digging into Lucifer's skin and fuck, it hurt! (You hurt yourself all of the time, why can't you take someone else doing it? Pathetic little shit.) But he didn't say anything, instead he glanced over at Angel, Charlie, Vaggie, and Nifty. Angel was gently combing through Charlies large mass of hair and was braiding it carefully while Charlie struggled to paint the constantly moving Nifty who, at several points in time, tried drinking the nail polish. Vaggie had already gotten her nails done and was just watching the movie quietly.

He scratched his leg, picking at a healing cut that itched like nobody's business. "Stop movin' yer makin' me miss." Husker growled, Lucifer wanted to point out that he would miss no matter what with how tightly he was holding the nail polish cap. He thought better of it and stilled himself, forcing his other hand into his pocket.

He managed to stay still for about... five seconds before his leg started bouncing and he pulled his hand back out of his pocket to fiddle with his pants again. Husker growled and shoved the nail polish back into the container and tossed it onto the couch, deeming his work done. He huffed and leaned into Angel's side, choosing to watch the movie rather than finish Lucifer's hand. Lucifer didn't blame him, he wouldn't want to work with himself either. He HAD to live with himself and he hated it.

Lucifer glanced at his nails, the polish hit some of his skin but he didn't mind, he kinda liked it. It was imperfect, and that's what made it beautiful. "Thank you" He whispered, not really caring if Husker heard or not as he turned his attention to the tv. Missing the small twitch of Husker's ear.

...

Whoever told Charlie that Uno is a fun and relaxing game should die, twice. And then they should get cooked over an open flame before they die a third time. The game had started simple enough, be the first one to lose all their cards. Simple, friendly and shouldn't have made much of a fuss. That was until Husker had started treating it like a poker game and then suddenly bets were involved, rules changed constantly, and they caught Nifty trying to use the cards to kill bugs.

One thing led to another and suddenly there were teams, fire, and many many thrown pillows. Lucifer found himself using a metal pan to wack away a bunch of softball gun pellets Angel had pulled from who knows where. He found himself grinning wildly trying to aim his hits at Husker and the Egg as Vaggie launched a 'bomb' (To be honest, Nifty had gotten wrapped up in it as a little surprise for the other team)

So wrapped up in the mock war with the other team, Lucifer didn't notice Charlie smiling softly at him, an almost relieved look in her eyes.

...

Lucifer panted, his headache had come back full force and his stomach was in knots again but holy fuck- was that fun.

"We totally won that" Lucifer wheezed, lifting up a fist to fist bump Vaggie, who was also laying on the floor with Charlie draped atop of her.

"Oh yeah, absolutely" She agreed, knocking their knuckles together.

"What- No! We obviously won!" Angel countered, lifting his head up from where he was bent over the top of the couch.

"Then why do you look like you lost?" Lucifer asked, lifting his head up to look at Angel, (Wrong move, god- wrong move- holy shit his head hurt!)

"I" Angel proclaimed, pointing one arm up into the air, "Am taking a victorious breather" He huffed and put his arm back down, letting his head dangle.

"Yep, keep tellin' yourself that"

"Yer doin the same thing I'm doing!" Lucifer laughed and glanced at Husker.

"Am I? Somethin' tells me Husk doesn't want a piece of this~" He wasn't sure if the pillow to his face was worth it or not.

...

Lucifer leaned against the door, listening to it click shut. To say he was exhausted would be an understatement. Lucifer stripped off his clothes and tossed them onto the floor, leaving his binder and shorts on. He stumbled into bed, the edges of his brain fuzzy from the wine he drank at dinner. (He mostly just had wine for dinner but, ya know, no one wanted a repeat of breakfast so they just let him get tipsy while Charlie tried sneaking bits of food onto his already small plate.) Lucifer sighed, face flushed and warm with alcohol, no doubt he would be paying for drinking non water and eating hardly any food later, but for now, he snuggled into his bed, waiting for the call of sleep to drag his head further into his pillow.

It never really came.

...

Lucifer whined as his body trembled with exhaustion, his head hurt and his mouth tasted like acid and regurgitated wine. He winced as his stomach twisted again and he stuck his head deeper into the toilet. God, this was so pathetic.

Lucifer panted as sweat dripped down his face and into the bowl. Suddenly the world tilted violently and then went black.

...

"-ound.... in the bathroom I d..."

"Toilet...."

Something was stroking the side of his head, their hand was so cold compared to how warm he felt. He winced and leaned into the hand.

Was someone crying? Someone sounded like they were crying... was it him? Was he crying? He didn't think so... the voice was too high pitched to be his...

His stomach lurched again and he turned his head away from the hand as he spit up, pain wracking his body.

"-HIT!" There were sounds of general commotion and suddenly he was weightless. His head lolled back and the rest of him went limp. And suddenly, it was quiet once more.

...

Bright- too bright- Lucifer groaned as he forced himself to sit up again, he open hi- This was not his room.

He was fairly certain that he didn't fall asleep in the lobby. Very certain actually. From what he could tell he was alone at the moment, he glanced to the side and found a glass of water and two little pills. With trembling hands he pushed the pills into his mouth and took several greedy gulps of water, it wasn't long until the water was spilling out of the sides and dribbling down his chin as he gasped between gulps.

"My, my you're going to choke if you drink your water like that~" Alastor's voice crooned.

Lucifer gagged in surprise and choked on his water.

"Told you~"

"Wh-" Lucifer coughed again, "What the hell are you doing here?" Lucifer glared up at Alastor, the radio demons grin didn't waver as he sat up straight.

"Believe it or not, I~ live here! That, and Charlie asked me to keep an eye on you and if you needed anything, other than me leaving you alone, that all you have to do is ask!" Lucifer groaned and set the cup down, just short of dropping it on the table. Alastor inspected his claws as if there were better things he could be doing, there probably was (No one actually wants to make sure your sorry ass is ok).

Lucifer grumbled and fiddled with the thin blanket on his lap, doing his best to ignore the radio demon, who also seemed content with the deadly silence.

"You know-" or not. Lucifer glanced up at the taller.

"Charlie's well being is important to me, to us, right?" Alastor arched an eyebrow as he waited for Lucifer to answer.

"O-of course, I do care about her" he croaked in response. He squeaked as Alastor moved toward him quickly, their faces inches apart.

"Then why did you hurt her?" His head cocked in a very uncomfortable looking way.

Lucifer blinked in surprise, "I- I didn't" He didn't think he did anyway...

"Oh not physically!" He moved away again, "For some unfathomable reason she cares for you, and to see you in any sort of pain harms her, hurts her" That- couldn't be true...

"SO!" Alastor clapped his hands and stopped his pacing to stare down at Lucifer. "If I catch you, if any of us catch you, harming yourself, starving yourself or anything of that sort, we will tell our beloved Charlie"

Lucifer hardly believed that, they hadn't really spoken in years, and while Lucifer was fairly certain that the only reason he hadn't killed himself was because of Charlie, he never really saw her really caring about him.

"You know, you should have seen her face when she found you! I've never seen her so terrified before! I swear you could see her little heart shatter into ittsy-bittsy pieces" Alastor trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing, a more painful looking smile etched in his face. Lucifer's heart clenched at the thought of Charlie being upset and him not being awake to tell her it was going to be alright.

But the idea of this little shit trying to intervene on what he was going with his alone time, he was about to tell the dick-shit just as much before the door slammed open and Charlie came rushing in. He didn't have time to say anything before he was wrapped tightly in her arms and she was a blubbering mess. Lucifer didn't hesitate wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could, which wasn't very tight due to his small stature and he really hadn't been doing anything healthy for the past few days...

Something hot and wet slipped down his cheek and dripped onto Charlie's outfit.

"I'm sorry" He croaked, his breath hitched as he clung to Charlie for dear life, "I'm sorry, Msorry" He kept repeating the words as he rocked back and forth, tears falling down his own face and sobs wracking his own body uncontrollably. He glanced at Alastor and nodded, a silent agreement to the younger man's previous terms.

Alastor nodded and promptly left the room.

...

Lucifer sat there, stroking Charlie's tangled hair gently as she sniffled in her sleep.

His own eyes felt like they had weights attached to them, he knew despite his best efforts he wouldn't get any sleep. At least he could watch over his little girl while she rested.

...............................................

That was.... much longer than i thought it was going to be.

@yes-that-is-very-you