cozy-rose - Tumblr blog

cozy-rose · 9 months

Text

Rare Moments of Rest

SICKTEMBER DAY 2: "I'm So Sorry"

Fandom: Criminal Minds ♡ Main: Emily ♡ Ship: Platonic Emily/Spencer ♡

Read on Ao3

Features: Emergency landings, keeping a close eye, borrowed sweaters, stuffy noses, and late night chats

…

“Reid, you have to hurry up. If you can’t handle this…”, Hotch whispered sternly.

“Be careful, man…” Morgan added.

Spencer twisted his head around, shushing his fellow agents and pressing his palm out toward them.

“I got this, you guys. I just need to focus.”

“I don’t know, man, you look nervous…”

Spencer thought about the task at hand. He had to be gentle… skillful…

“Oh my god, you guys are ridiculous. Do you want me to wake her up?” JJ carped from the front of the jet, “We have to get our seatbelts on, we’re landing any minute now.”

“Shhh!”

“What, Spence? Are you scared of the wrath of Emily Prentiss? I’m surprised all of this turbulence hasn’t woken her up already.”

“I’m not scared, JJ… She just looks so peaceful.”

“Okay, well she needs to be upright.”

The thing was, Emily hardly looked peaceful anymore. After returning from Paris, she hadn’t been able to fall asleep on the jet, keeping too vigilant to let herself fully relax. Here she was though, curled up into herself, a bit more disheveled than she usually would let the team see her.

“Hey, Emily?”

Reid placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder, his thumb pressing gently into her back. In the past year, Reid had felt a new sense of tenderness for his fellow agent. He guessed going to their funeral must do that to a person.

“Emily, can you hear me? You need to wake up.”

But Emily was back from the dead now, he was looking at the proof right now. Her chest rising and falling with each breath, and the flush of warm, red life across her cheeks. Reid tried his best to handle her with care, while making a point not to treat her like something fragile. He knew how that felt, and how it delayed healing. In this moment though he felt a looming sense of guilt, about to disturb what he guessed was a rare moment of rest.

“You have to wake up… There’s a storm ahead, and we have to land.”

He was met with a grunt, muffled as she brought her arm over her face. He tried to shake her shoulder, gently, but his attempts were futile as the jet was rocked to the side by turbulence. Emily shot her eyes open, stifling her fear as soon as it arose; she despised feeling this vulnerable.

“We’re landing early and waiting out the storm tonight. We’ll be back in the air tomorrow, but we have to get our seatbelts on”, Reid explained.

Emily wordlessly nodded, pushing herself up and off of the couch and to a nearby seat; rubbing her eyes and nose like a just awoken child.

…

The jet landed roughly on the slick tarmac, rain viciously pelting on the windows. This was an independent runway, dark, and in the middle of nowhere. A rental van waited for them outside, parked just a little too far away.

Soaking themselves to the bone, the BAU booked it to the van, and Emily was fighting to keep up with her team. Pressure weighed in her sinuses, now uncomfortably knocking in her skull as she ran. Her breath raggedly scraped against her throat, mouth open, hungrily begging for air that she couldn’t seem to get through her nose.

Ducking into the van, Emily took her seat in the back row with JJ, Reid soon nestling between them. She wiped a stray drop of rain that was traveling down her nose, another dripped down her neck, causing her to shiver. Reid piped up next to her.

“Can we turn up the heat? Can’t really feel it back here…”

…

The team reached their home away from home for the night, a mid-size lodge off the beaten path that Garcia had found on a home sharing site. It was quaint, but definitely a last minute booking, but at this point as long as it had a roof, it was good enough.

Rossi grumbled something unintelligible as he headed for one of the bedrooms. Hotch headed upstairs for a shower. Morgan found a basket of snacks in the kitchen, provided by the locations host and wasn’t shy about digging in. JJ scolded him, saying he should at least read the card propped up on the basket first, listing the house rules.

Emily was unsure where to go, standing awkwardly in the hall next to Reid who was fiddling with the thermostat. His sandy hair still damp and sticking to his forehead.

First things first… Let’s get changed.

“Fuck!” Emily cursed. Reid jumped at the sound.

“What’s wrong?”

“My bag… it's on the plane.”

Reid noticed a whine in her voice, something nasal that he wasn’t used to.

“I guess I’ll ask JJ-“

“No! No, I have extra stuff. Here.”

Reid bent down and unzipped the duffel near his feet. After rummaging for a moment, he pulled out a thick knit sweater, a melange of warm earthy tones and some crumpled sweatpants. He looked up at Emily, resembling a child showing their parent a picture that they just drew and Emily felt her chest flood with warmth. She took the bundle and held it to her chest. The greens and the purples of the ensemble just looked like Reid, and if she could smell right now, she would know that they smelled like him too.

…

“Looking cozy, Prentiss.”

Emily smiled at Morgan, cocking her head to one side and opening her arms to show the sweater in its full glory. JJ giggled.

She felt cozy as well, maybe a little too much so. Emily soon found herself having trouble keeping her eyes open, legs tucked up underneath a knit blanket. The rain drummed on the window behind her, threatening to lull her to sleep. She could hardly focus on JJ, and Morgan’s conversation, never mind contribute.

Emily also found herself having to sniffle often, pressure growing painful in the spaces underneath her eyes. She tried to deny the inevitable, but ran out of energy. She was obviously sick, and she hated being sick. Not that was an unpopular opinion, but she was sure she hated it more than most. This was unfortunate because ever since she was a kid, was prone to sinus infections, especially during dramatic shifts in weather. Moving from one country to another as a kid, especially when their climates were very different, always resulted in a nasty fever and relentless sniffling. Emily remembered how the kids at her new schools bullied her. It was bad enough having a larger nose, never mind when it was rubbed raw and pink.

The next thing she knew she was being woken up again, this time by JJ.

“Hey, sorry to wake you, but I'm going to turn in. There’s a big bed we can share upstairs. It’ll be more comfortable than the couch.”

Emily stretched her neck, noticing that the rain had stopped.

“I think I’ll just stay here for a bit. I might raid those snacks, and then I’ll come up.”

Being honest, Emily didn’t know if she would be able to make it up the stairs. Every limb felt heavy. Her clothes still felt as if they were rain-soaked, weighing her down and binding her to the couch. All she wanted to do was tuck her legs even closer to her chest and sleep.

“Okay… Are you feeling alright?”

Emily felt her eyes already fluttering closed. She pried them open with the last bit of energy she had left.

“Hmm? Yeah. I’m good Jayje. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

…

Emily gasped, waking up from a less than peaceful dream. She couldn’t pull air through her blocked nose, and in the hazy space between being asleep and being awake she began to panic. Unable to breathe, her fight or flight response kicked in. Wrestling with the blanket that had tangled up with her legs, she made a beeline for the door, attempting to escape the invisible force sent to strangle her.

There was a covered porch that wrapped around the outside of the house. Emily shuffled onto the wooden slats. One hand clutched her chest and twisted her loose sweater between her fingers, the other reached out to the porch railing. She opened her mouth, swallowing the cool air that tasted of rain and soil. Between labored breaths she could hear someone. Garbled words that sounded miles away- somewhere behind a thick wall of glass.

Two large hands broke through the wall, shattering the glass and taking hold of her shoulders.

“Hey! Emily… breathe.”

Emily nodded, struggling to bring Reid’s face into focus in the dim porch light.

“Breathe… In through your nose-“

Ha!

This phrase brought Emily back down to the earth that she was tasting. It grounded her, despite how silly it seemed.

I can’t breathe through my fucking nose. Thats all! I’m safe. I just have a stuffy fucking nose.

She squeezed her eyes closed, dipping her head down and letting out a laugh.

Reid, confused on how to respond, let out a chuckle himself.

“A-Are you alright?”

Emily nodded without looking up, sniffling pathetically. She patted Reid’s arm in gratitude, his hand still resting on her shoulder.

“I’m alright. Thangks.”

…

They sat together on a porch swing, facing each other and leaning back on the slightly damp pillows behind them. The seat shook a bit every time a shiver ripped through Emily. She crossed her arms in front of her, pulling her knees up to her chest again. She looked at the sky, a deep inky black.

“Wait…what timbe is it? Why are you awake?”

“It’s almost four. And please, you think someone like me has a healthy sleeping schedule?”

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips.

“That’s fair… God, I can’t wait to get hombe. I-“

Emily was cut off by something invisible, a far away look falling across her face. Her lips parted and a sharp intake of breath cause the swing to shake again. Emily nestled her face into the crook of her elbow without uncrossing her arms, tensing up with a series of three stifled sneezes.

“Ugh… ow.”

Emily’s eyes pinched closed. Pressure and pain thudding behind her eyes, in her ears, and even around her teeth.

“Gesundheit, Emily! Did you know you can rupture an eardrum when you hold them in like that?”

“Ndo, I didn’t…”

Emily wanted to come up with a witty response, she loved poking fun at Reid’s anecdotes, but another tickle distracted her, rather intensely. She ducked into the sweater sleeve again, this time succumbing to a forceful sneeze, just one this time, but she let it fully take over her. The swing jerked sideways, causing Emily to plant one foot on the floor to stabilize herself and Reid.

“There you go!”

“Oh. Shit.” Emily sniffed, catching her breath. She ran her sleeve under her nose. “Oh…oh no- shit! Reid, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry for sneezing, Emily.”

“Ndo, ndo… Your poor sweater. I forgot it was yours, I’b so disgus-“

“Well, I wouldn’t have given it to you if I was worried about that.”

“…but I wasn’t-“

“You never sleep on the jet anymore. But yesterday you were able to sleep through a storm…”

“Hm.”

“And you always get sick when we go somewhere really cold in the summer, so-”

“You just put it together.”

“I mean I am a genius, Emily.”

“I thingk you’re just a good friend, Reid… Thangk you.”

They sat together until the sky began to brighten, oscillating between stretches of conversation and silence. During the silences Emily found herself thinking back to those kids from school, and how they didn’t matter anymore. She had a friend now. Someone to meet her where she was at. Someone to indulge in vulnerability with. Someone who who would lend her a sweater, and never make fun of her nose.

#emily prentiss #spencer reid #criminal minds #sicktember #sickfic

13 notes · View notes

cozy-rose · 9 months

Text

I Want This City to be Us

SICKTEMBER DAY 2: Quest for a Cure

Fandom: Criminal Minds ♡ Main: Emily ♡ Ship: Penemily ♡

Read on AO3

Features: Cozy Parisian hotels, too many pastries, demons from your past, fever induced French, reclaiming and reframing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Comment te sens-tu, mon amour? Does that sound right?”

Penelope sat on the edge of the hotel bed, placing a gentle hand on her girlfriends bent knee, all without taking her eyes off of her phone.

Emily chuckled, “je me sens beaucoup mieux… I’m feeling much better, thank you”.

Her voice was rather rough, but marginally improved from the past few days. She sat up from her reclined position on her pillow, her dark hair in a halo of fly-aways, and held herself up on the heels of her hands.

Almost instantly after arriving in Paris, Emily felt a tickle in her throat. She didn’t recall having allergies while in France, but sincerely hoped that this was the case- she was way too excited to show Penelope the city to be ill. Despite her complicated past with Paris, there was a certain magic within the streets After all, there was a reason she chose to come here after her “death”.

Unfortunately, the tickle bloomed into a full blown cold within one fitful night. Sniffles and aches plagued the agent, cementing her to her bed, under the watchful eye of a certain bubbly blonde. Penelope had taken this opportunity to order room service and sit on the balcony for a few days, meticulously practicing her French in preparation for when they would actually begin to explore the city. She really didn’t mind the situation, content with eating a concerning amount of pastries and asking for pronunciation advice, as she handed tissues to her copine magnefique.

Maybe the demons that Emily had in association with this city had more power now that she had returned, and maybe they were eating her up inside, making her sick. Emily tried her best not to think about that.

“Why don’t we go try your French on the public, huh? I’m getting antsy just sitting in here.”

Penelope looked up from her phone and toward the woman beside her. Her eyes darted from Emily’s rumbled sweatshirt to her adorably pink nose, and then settled on her tired, yet hopeful, eyes.

“Are you sure?”

Penelope shuffled over, moving her hand from Emily’s knee to her forehead. The ill woman slumped her shoulders, dropping her knee to the side and leaned into the blonde’s touch. She dipped her chin down, looking up into Penelope’s concerned brown eyes with an exaggerated, sad expression.

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. Put that pout away, Prentiss.”

“I don’t think I will…”

Penelope giggled. She removed her hand and began wringing it with the one on her lap. She bounced her knee, anxiously.

“I don’t know, Em, you still feel a little warm to me…”

“Well okay- let’s just go to the pharmacy, then! I know of one a few blocks from here. We’ll get to take a short walk and I’ll be able to get some medicine and kick the last bit of this cold. By tomorrow, I’ll be good as new.”

“Em…”

“S'il te plaît? J'ai besoin d'air. Et toi, j'ai besoin de toi.”

“Don’t argue with me in French. You know that romance languages are a weakness of mine.”

Emily laughed, coughing into her shoulder. She scooted up toward Penelope, sitting criss-cross under her blanket, with eager hands gripping her ankles.

“Pen, I want to show you Paris. S'il te plaaaaît? S'il te plaît, mon amour?”

“Mon amour? Don’t try to butter me up…”

“Alors allons-nous y aller? Oui? Ouiiii?”

The normally even agent was overcome with a childlike glee that caused her to rock from side to side. Penelope couldn’t contain her adoration, and quickly caved, placing her hands on Emily’s shoulders to keep her still.

“I don’t know what your saying Em, but sure… I’m sorry- oui.”

Emily sat up straighter, a bright smile breaking across her face, her fever-flush growing a bit deeper with excitement. She impatiently kicked her feet out from underneath the blanket, getting up to finally change out of her sweatpants.

…

“It’s a left here, no… a right… no-”

Penelope walked a few paces behind Emily, watching her bun unravel more and more with each step. As each inky strand fell loosely around Emily’s jawline, the agent seemed to become a bit more disoriented.

“Em, honey, are you sure you know where-“

Emily spun around, meeting a pair of uneasy brown eyes. She crossed her arms in front of her. Penelope would have thought it was defensive, until she noticed Emily shiver.

“Yes, Pen, I’ve been here a bunch of times. It’s left.”

“I’m pretty sure we came from that way, darling.”

“But, no… Maybe-“

Emily turned back around, pulling the hair tie out from behind her head and sliding it on her wrist. She ran long pale fingers along her scalp, stopping to massage the base of her neck. Penelope came up beside her and placed a tentative hand on her waist, but Emily didn’t notice- her gaze was a million miles away.

“Why don’t we just check the map? Do you have your phone? Mine is hopelessly dead.”

Emily pulled away, patting the pockets of her jeans, vision just barely in focus.

“Shit… I left mine at the hotel. Merde.”

“Okay, let’s not panic- does anything look familiar? What does that sign say?”

“Pénélope, je suis vraiment désolé”

“Its says Penelope? Oh wait- désolé? You’re sorry? Honey, no…”

Penelope placed a gentle hand on Emily’s shoulder. The other woman shot her a worried expression, eyes bright with fever. Penelope could see the blush high on Emily’s cheeks and her hair was beginning to stick to her neck.

The dark haired woman continued to speak in French, babbling what sounded like nonsense to Penelope. Amidst her distress about the situation, she wondered if translated, would Emily even be making sense in English? Using the knowledge of the language she gained within the past few days, Penelope tried to piece together what was wrong.

“Cette ville cause ma maladie.”

“Maladie - Sick? You feel sick? I can see that, dar-”

“Cette ville cause ma maladie!…Paris.”

“Paris…Paris is making you sick?”

“Oui”, tears spilled on to Emily’s cheeks. They were hot, but not as hot as her skin.

“Hey,! Hey, come here”, Penelope tenderly held Emily’s face in her hands, refocusing her, “I’m here. Nothing can hurt you. You may feel bad, but it’s not the city. It’s a cold, just like anyone else. You’re safe with me, no matter where we are”. The blonde reached down, slipping Emily’s hair tie off of her wrist and gathering her damp hair back into a bun. The sick agent seemed to relax until her hand shot out, gripping Penelope’s wrist.

“Se… se sentir étourdi…” Emily swayed on her feet.

“Em, oh my g- okay sit down. What’s wrong? In English?”

Emily coughed into her shoulder as the pair sat down on a nearby bench.

“Désolé je vais…” Emily coughed again, “sorry… I mean, I’m alright. Just got a little dizzy.”

“Emily, darling, can you look at me?”

She brought her hand back up to Emily’s forehead.

“You’re really burning up again. Are you able to stay here? I’ll find the pharmacy.”

…

Penelope weaved through the streets, surrounded by people she didn’t know and words she couldn’t understand. The small heels on her shoes clicked erratically as she tried to slow her breathing.

Come on, Penny, you’re smart. You can figure this out.

The streets became a bit more congested, the bustle suggesting that Penelope was getting closer to the city center. She felt her chest swell with hope, but stayed vigilant, remembering landmarks that would lead her back to Emily as quickly as possible. Looking around at the neon signs lining the road outstretched in front of her, Penelope let herself hold on to that hope in her chest. There had to be medicine somewhere around here.

Her eyes settled on a man smoking a cigarette near a cafe, bathed in the golden light of the street lamp. It was going to be dark soon. Penelope walked up to him, a Rolodex of French words that she’d learned spinning in her head. She tried to remember how to ask for help.

“Uh… bonjour monsieur, pouvez-vous m'aider?”

He took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Oui.”

“Uh… medicine. J'ai besoin de… medicine?”

“Médecine? Avez-vous besoin de l'hôpital?”

“No! Not the hospital. I need a… a pharmacy.”

“Oh! La pharmacie?”

“Yes! Oui!”

The man smiled, held his cigarette between his teeth and pointed down the road.

“Un signe vert.”

“Vert- green! The green sign?”

The man nodded.

“Merci! Merci, so much!”

Penelope hurried down the road, practically kicking up dust as she turned to enter the pharmacy doors. She collected herself the best that she could and grabbed a basket.

…

Emily waited on the bench, each passing breeze almost painful on her overly-sensitive skin. Tears burned in her irritated eyes. The heat inside of her battling the cool air outside.

The demons inside of me battling this beauty outside.

Emily became lost in these thoughts, remembering the then and fighting to separate it from the now.

My hair was shorter then… now I can put it in a bun.

I was dead then… now I am alive.

My name wasn’t mine then… now I am-

“Emily!”

The world abruptly tried to shift into focus. Emily squeezed her eyes shut, trying to prevent it from spinning around her. Tears that had been unknowingly collecting along her waterline spilled onto her cheeks again, but this time a cool cloth wiped them away before they dried down into sticky remnants.

“Penny?”

“I’m here, Em. Here take these.”

Two tablets were pushed into Emily’s palm and lead up to her mouth, along with a bottle of water that she drank from, greedily. She hadn’t realized how dehydrated she’d become. A cough cut her off from her drink, and after catching her breath, she finally opened her eyes.

“Are you alright?” Emily rasped.

Penelope broke into a hearty laugh, pressing the cloth she had moistened to her girlfriends forehead. She looked radiant. Pathetic, but radiant.

“Yes, I’m alright, darling. I survived the big scary pharmacy. I even got to use my French!”

Emily slumped on the bench, looking adoringly at the blonde. The light from the streetlamp behind her creating a golden halo.

It took forty-five minutes, two bottles of water, and a shared pains au chocolate for Emily’s fever to go down. In that time Penelope had asked her if she wanted to share some storied of her time in Paris, maybe that would help her mindset going forward, but the fevered woman declined. Turns out, she didn’t have memories of Paris like she had thought- she just had memories of darkness. There was memories of pain and loneliness, that yes, were surrounded by flowers and smelled of fresh bread, but that didn’t make them good. Those memories just so happened to be holed up in a little apartment a few blocks away from here, an apartment where someone that looked a lot like Emily once lived- and that’s where they needed to stay.

“I want this city to be us. Brand new moments. Starting with this one. Je t’aime, Penelope.”

“Je t’aime, Emily.”

The magic she felt from the city had to be used now.

Because it had to be used with her.

#emily prentiss #penelope garcia #penemily #criminal minds #sickfic #sicktember #sicktember 2023 #I'm a day late #I forgot it was September lol

11 notes · View notes

cozy-rose · 11 months

Text

😶 Possible non-verbal indicators of a character who isn't feeling well:

Drinking tea when they usually don't

Taking over-the-counter medicine

Shivering under a blanket

Having a slow processing time

Swallowing hard

Rubbing their temples

Picking at their food

Stepping outside for fresh air

Holding their stomach

Eyes brimming with tears

Sucking on peppermint

Falling asleep in weird places

Frequent trips to the bathroom

Changing into sweatpants/comfy clothes

Neglecting chores they're usually compulsive about

Not bothering to comb/stye hair

Getting winded easily

Splashing water on their face

Leaning forward with head bowed

Eyeing the nearest trashcan frequently -----------------------------------------

Fanning themselves excessively

Leaning on tables/chairs/walls for stabilization

Rolling down the window in the car

Having clammy hands

Breathing in through their nose and out through their mouth

Getting a ride when they'd normally walk

Showing up late to an obligation

Pulling at a tight collar

Shifting uneasily in their seat

Covering their mouth

Having their hoodie up

Resting their head on a table/desk

Getting caught looking at WebMD

Legs shaking underneath their weight

Dark circles under their eyes

Being covered in goosebumps

Forgetting things that are usually second nature

Wearing sunglasses indoors

Unsteady hands

Zoning out -----------------------------------------

Blinking dazedly

Seeking out physical contact

Going pale

Increased clumsiness

Decreased strength

Flushed cheeks

Yawning excessively

Stomach gurgling sickly

Tension in their shoulders

Pinching the bridge of their nose

Tripping over their own feet

Being quiet when they're usually talkative

Squinting at bright lights

Sweating profusely

Glossy/Bleary eyes

Holding their chest

Poor posture/Hunching into themselves

Clenched teeth

Stifling burps

Having a sickly smell about them/change of odor -----------------------------------------

Rolling their shoulders back

Rubbing their stomach

Running their hands through their hair

Shuddering breaths

Resting their head against a friend's shoulder

Finding a bucket and keeping it close

Coughing harshly/frequently

Wheezing breaths

Sniffing wetly

Resting their forehead against cold places/things

Arms hanging limply

Having red nose/eyes

Legs pulled up to chest/Hugging themselves

Wobbly knees

Tissues stuffed into their palms/pockets

Washing hands excessively

Sitting on the bathroom floor

Sighing heavily

Neglecting working out

Avoiding meals -----------------------------------------

Hands on knees

Drooping eyelids

Spitting out excess saliva

Quick, panting breaths

Having bad breath

Wringing their hands

Being heavy-footed

Head lolling to the side

Rubbing arms to try to warm up

Pressing palms to eyes

Having a grimacing expression

Mouth in a thin line

Puffy/Swollen face

White/Pale lips

Keeping to themselves

Holding head in hands

Unfocused eyes

Curling arms around their middle

Hiccuping on stale air

Restlessness during sleep

1K notes · View notes

cozy-rose · 11 months

Text

Some of my favorite words and phrases to describe a character in pain

coiling (up in a ball, in on themselves, against something, etc)

panting (there’s a slew of adjectives you can put after this, my favorites are shakily, weakly, etc)

keeling over (synonyms are words like collapsing, which is equally as good but overused in media)

trembling/shivering (additional adjectives could be violently, uncontrollably, etc)

sobbing (weeping is a synonym but i’ve never liked that word. also love using sob by itself, as a noun, like “he let out a quiet sob”)

whimpering (love hitting the wips with this word when a character is weak, especially when the pain is subsiding. also love using it for nightmares/attacks and things like that)

clinging (to someone or something, maybe even to themselves or their own clothes)

writhing/thrashing (maybe someone’s holding them down, or maybe they’re in bed alone)

crying (not actual tears. cry as in a shrill, sudden shout)

dazed (usually after the pain has subsided, or when adrenaline is still flowing)

wincing (probably overused but i love this word. synonym could be grimacing)

doubling-over (kinda close to keeling over but they don’t actually hit the ground, just kinda fold in on themselves)

heaving (i like to use it for describing the way someone’s breathing, ex. “heaving breaths” but can also be used for the nasty stuff like dry heaving or vomiting)

gasping/sucking/drawing in a breath (or any other words and phrases that mean a sharp intake of breath, that shite is gold)

murmuring/muttering/whispering (or other quiet forms of speaking after enduring intense pain)

hiccuping/spluttering/sniffling (words that generally imply crying without saying crying. the word crying is used so much it kinda loses its appeal, that’s why i like to mix other words like these in)

stuttering (or other general terms that show an impaired ability to speak — when someone’s in intense pain, it gets hard to talk)

staggering/stumbling (there is a difference between pain that makes you not want to stand, and pain that makes it impossible to stand. explore that!)

recoiling/shrinking away (from either the threat or someone trying to help)

pleading/begging (again, to the threat, someone trying to help, or just begging the pain to stop)

Feel free to add your favorites or most used in the comments/reblogs!

42K notes · View notes