#pain is easy. i know what i'm doing. nausea makes me want to throw a tantrum like a toddler and it will not go away

[dudadragneel]

Hey Duda, it’s been a minute since I’ve been here! Sorry, work has been keeping me so busy at the moment.

I’ve been thinking about Chan with an upset tummy. It’s so loud, crampy and it makes him feel so queasy to the point he has to take regular breaks from his work because he feels like he’ll puke if he looks at his screen too long.

Maybe they have to be in the car for a long journey, and he’s squished in the back. That wouldn’t help him feel better because it would be so hot and the movement would make him feel 10 times sicker.

He closes his eyes and leans back into the seat, rubbing his belly and occasionally burping to try and make him feel better, but eventually he can’t avoid it and ends up having to throw up in a plastic bag he normally brings for one of the other kids who get carsick.

Do let me know what you think! - 🍋

Hello, dear 🍋!

First of all, I have another ask sent by you that I'm writing a little drabble! I hope to finish it soon!

Here's my take on this:

Producing music was not an easy task, no matter how much he loved what he did and how good he was at it, Chan was a human being and sometimes it could be too much. But working while trying to deal with an upset stomach was a whole other deal, he couldn't focus properly which was making him stressed and that was worsening the pain.

Chan was coordinating the recording from outside the booth, going through each member, and he grew uneasy by the second, feeling his stomach cramping and gurgling. He was sure that the staff and the other members that were in the room with him could hear it.

Once he finished the recording session, he turned his attention back to his computer. As he went through the recording and mixing, his stomach's contents were sloshing around and his mouth started watering and tasting foul. He knew that if he insisted on looking at the screen and listening to the recording he was going to throw up.

Excuse me, I'm gonna go to the bathroom.

He said to the members and the staff as he hurriedly got up from his chair and left the room. Getting to the bathroom, he locked himself in one of the stalls and prayed that no one would use the restroom right now, the last thing he wanted was people hearing him puke and be concerned for him.

He leaned against the cabin, looking up and taking deep breaths to control the urge to vomit. When he felt his mouth pooling with saliva, he started to swallow convulsively because he didn't want to vomit, he knew that if he did the members would immediately notice. The first wave was successful, he managed to swallow it back and the nausea briefly faded away.

But then it came back again, something rushing up his throat and hitting the back of his mouth, so he immediately turned to the toilet, hands on the wall for support. He opened his mouth and spat out thick saliva, then his stomach jumped making him lurch forward as a thin stream of bile and gastric juice came out. It burned his throat in the process and he knew he was doomed because his voice would sound raspy and the members could notice that. He spat out one more time and walked out to rinse his mouth and noticed his complexion was starting to not look good. And deep down he knew that that wasn't the only thing that needed to come out, the nausea was still lingering and he had work to do, he couldn't possibly go home now.

Walking back to the studio, the staff and the members had already left to do other stuff and he'd be alone, which he was grateful for because he could suffer without worrying the others. Despite feeling sick, work is work and he couldn't give himself the luxury of resting now, not with a comeback around the corner. He insisted on working on the songs but the more he looked at his computer, the more nauseous he got. He once more left his studio to go to the restroom where the same process as earlier repeated, nothing but bile coming out. After the third pause he decided to just place a bin next to him, since going out all the time could be seen as suspicious to the ones that were outside.

When he was finally done, Changbin came to the studio to get him so they could go home.

Hyung, we're leaving.

Okay, let'd go.

Chan said grabbing his things and his precious laptop. Unfortunately for him, the ride back to the dorm was going to be a long one because it was raining and there was a huge traffic jam, and to add to his misery, he had drawn the short straw and had to sit on the far back of the van. That wouldn't help with his nausea, not in the slightest. He was cramped, the boys wouldn't keep quiet so it was getting stuffy and hot inside the car and he couldn't see the road ahead. The sheer thought that they'd take a considerable amount of time to get home was sending him over the edge. All of that was making his nausea worsen by the second.

When he felt that it had gotten considerably worse, he squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back into his seat letting out a long heavy sigh and placing a hand on his stomach and rubbing it gently. His stomach was gurgling under his hand, making him muffle queasy burps with his hand. And each time he burped, he tasted a progressively awful taste in his mouth, he began swallowing convulsively when one of these burps brought a small amount of liquid.

Crisis averted one more time, but his comfort only lasted so long. He didn't want to throw up in the car, let alone in front of the members, he didn't like worrying them, he was the leader, be was the one that should be worrying.

But his body wasn't giving him much of a choice, his stomach gurgling more by the minute. Then he felt a strong wave of nausea through his entire body, something rushing up his throat and hitting the back of his mouth, filling it with putrid liquid.

Changbin, who was sitting in the back with Chan, noticed his hyung's face go completely pale and sweaty.

- Hyung? Are you okay?

He said turning to face Chan, who was hurriedly lurched forward, hand covering his mouth and frantically trying to open his backpack that had a plastic bag inside. Changbin quickly understood the situation and grabbed the plastic bag putting it in front of Chan, avoiding a disaster.

Chan didn't even have time to grab the bag that Changbin was thankfully holding as he lurched forward, a thick stream of pale brown putrid liquid escaping his mouth hitting the bottom of the bag with a sickening sound startling everyone.

- What's happening?

They asked turning back to see the scene of their hyung puking his guts out without much warning.

Chan barely had time to breathe as another harsh wave made him duck his head even further in the bag that Changbin was still holding because Chan's hands were trembling.

- What's wrong?

- I don't know. He just threw up.

Chan lifted his head and took deep breaths, his hands were no longer trembling so Changbin handed him the bag and placed a hand on his shoulder.

- Are you okay, hyung?

- I'm fine. I'm sorry...

- Chan-hyung, don't lie to us.

- Okay. I wasn't feeling well earlier in the studio. My stomach was cramping and I felt nauseous.

- That's why you left to the restroom?

- Yeah, I thought I was gonna puke.

- Why didn't you tell us?

- I didn't want to worry you guys. And I had work to do. But the more I looked at the screen the more nauseous I got...and now the- the car-

He said gagging and ducking his head inside the bag again as a wet queasy burp brought another wave putrid vomit gushed out of him mixing with what was in the bag.

- Aigoo...hyung...

Changbin said rubbing his hyung back up and down for comfort as he puked one more time.

- Guys. The traffic is better now. We'll be home soon. Hang in there Chan.

The manager said from the driver's seat.

The rest of the ride home, although rather fast, had Chan vomit two more times before they reached the dorms.

Getting there, he took a warm bath and then just plopped on his bed for a well-deserved rest, with his dongsaengs checking in on him every do often, helping him whenever he felt sick.

#emeto #sickfic #whump #kpop sickfic #kpop emeto #stray kids emeto #stray kids sickfic #skz emeto #skz fanfic #skz sickfic #bang chan x reader #bang chan emeto #bang chan sickfic #hyunjin x reader #felix x reader #changbin x reader #seungmin x reader #jisung x reader #jeongin x reader #lee know x reader #skz fluff #skz angst

[marshmallowprotection]

How would the Saerans react if they weren’t feeling well and MC gave them a plushie that MC usually holds when they’re sick or in pain?

Ray would feel honored. You're going to share your most important possession with him? He understands the weight of you doing that. It's not easy to share something that brings you comfort, but if you're willing to do that with somebody you love, that means you trust them more than anything to take care of what you love.

It also means you care enough about them to share what you do when you feel blue. 

It isn't the kind of thing he takes lightly. He wants to feel special to you how much is as much as you feel special to him, so even having the chance to hear you say that would make him feel better, much less actually getting to hold your plushie. 

He would tenderly hold it against his heart and stare at you, as tears burned in the corners of his eyes. Words would be beyond him and yet he would try to force himself to say as much as he could to let you know how much it means to him to be somebody who you care about even if he can't always believe it. 

"Are you sure you want to give this to me, my flower? I wouldn't want to keep your favorite possession away from you, even if you told me it was okay to hold on to it... but as long as I'm here with you... I hope its okay to comfort myself this way..."

Suit Saeran, in all likelihood, would've had your plushie if he knew to take it away from you at the start.

That is to say, it would be easy for him to take something away from you that means the world to you to show you that he's not a good person. He wants you to be terrified of him and what better way to do that than to take something from you?

Now, you might have a legitimate fear that he may throw it away or destroy it, but that's not what he would do in the slightest. For some reason, even if he told you he was going to get rid of it, he wouldn't be able to do that. It's the same reason why he can't always follow through on what he says he's going to do. He'll tell you one thing but then he ends up running away before the worst can happen. 

If he managed to get his hands on it, it would stay with him in the security room.

It would sit at his desk and stare at him mockingly. This toy would remind him of you and any reminder of you when he's working brings him to his knees and makes him question everything he thinks he knows about paradise. Staring at it would make him feel guilty for everything he's done to you. This toy is a reminder of the fact that you're an innocent person and he shouldn't be hurting you for being kind to Ray… and him… even if they don’t deserve it. 

Imagine, if you will, that he brings it back with him when he comes to apologize. You know he's afraid of touching you, but with a gentle smile on your face, you tell him to hold tight to your plushie as if you were hugging him, too. It may not be the same, it may not make the pain go away, but for a brief moment, he would understand what it felt like to be loved. 

GE Saeran knows about your comfort plushie because he can remember how you held onto it the night the two of you shared in the cabin.

It clearly makes you feel better, and even if he understands that it's a placebo effect, that doesn't matter. What matters is that it makes you feel better. He never considered that it would be able to do the same thing for him, after all, he's been sick for a very long time and even as he's learning how to build up his strength, it doesn't change the fact that his immune system is still shot.

He has good days and bad days. It's nice to know that you're with him on those days, because even just laying at your side makes the worst bout of nausea go away. 

At least, in theory. For the most part, whenever he has those bad days, the best he can do is drape his head across your lap and pray that it'll feel better soon. If you were to help him lay on his side and place a plushie in his arms, he would stare at it for the longest time before quietly wrapping his arms around it. Words may not come easy to him when he feels sick, but you can tell how relieved he feels when he stares at you through bleary eyes. 

Keep in mind that this is going to make him want to search for his own plushie so he doesn't have to bother yours. It's nice to be able to share but this is your special friend, and maybe he needs to find his own for whenever he feels bad. Because there's always that chance that you both end up sick on the same day, and he wouldn't want to take something away from you like that.

Unless, of course, you suggest holding each other with the plushie in the middle. 

Unknown wouldn't seen no purpose in taking your toy away as long as it didn't get in the way of your work.

He took you on a whim after all so whatever came with you into Paradise will stay with you. Well, you won't be able to keep your cell phone unless he can modify it to make sure you can't contact the outside world but other than that, anything you had on your person isn't something he's going to bother with. There's no point in taking things away from you since you seem so willing to work with him.

It just isn't worth his time to try and incentivize you through fear. He was tortured through fear and as easy as it would be to dangle a toy over your head, it's not worth his time. That doesn't mean he wouldn't do it, but it just means he wouldn't bother doing it at first.

If at some point you focus on your comfort items instead of doing your work, that might change his tune a little bit, but you don't have to worry about anything getting destroyed because of him. 

He isn't the type to accept comfort from anybody, but if you happen to catch him after a particularly bad cleansing, you might just be able to convince him. It's not often he's given so much elixir that he doesn't know what to do with himself since he is more or less immune to most cleansing at the time you join him. But, that doesn't mean it doesn't happen. 

Worst comes to worst, in his delirium and feverish state, he ends up taking what you offered. It won't register until way later that the thing that brought him comfort when he felt at his worst was something he allowed you to keep. He will never admit to it, but it's worth saying that you helped him discover a new texture he likes. 

SE Saeran doesn't understand how a toy can help you feel better but he didn't grow up with anything to comfort him until Saeyoung could bring things home from church.

He's not going to complain when you have a bad day and the only thing that makes you feel better is a stuffed animal. Everybody has their own way of dealing with their problems, yours just happens to be one that he's not accustomed to. It's not that he has any room to talk because he doesn't particularly do anything when he feels bad.

He just shuts down and goes into his room where he can sit in the dark for a while until the dread goes away. 

It doesn't always go away. Seemingly, the feeling is perpetually there and there's nothing he can do about it. The frequency and intensity differ from day to day. But, he's not unwilling to try something different for a change if you are the one to offer the suggestion. You happen to be one of the only people he can trust, and if you tell him he should do something to feel better, he might just do it. 

Honestly, the best way to suggest this to him is to sit next to him and place the plushie between the two of you. He likely won't be able to bring himself to do the same thing that you do, but imagine you both hold the hand of the plushie on either side of you. It's not much but that just might do the trick. Holding something special to you while it's also connected to you feels like a good thing. Even if it's hard to put those words into action. 

#mod kait #ask #mystic messenger #anon #mysme #saeran choi #mysticmessenger #mm #choi saeran #ray choi #choi ray #suit saeran #ge saeran #saeray #saeran #unknown #se saeran #saeran mystic messenger #saeran mysme #ray mysme #ray mystic messenger

[sichore]

okok, I'm feeling generous and this can be a standalone thing.

Dethklok's resident artist has a migraine, and Pickles is the most qualified to handle it.

It starts with a twinge.

Jimi pauses mid-stroke, brush suspended in mid-air. There's no mistaking the faint twang she felt between her eyes, like the first string being plucked, reverberating down through her body. The note stops abruptly deep within, promising nausea.

She only has a few minutes, and maybe if she hurries, she can find her pain meds.

She did bring them, right? Surely, they're around here.

Three minutes later, she's at the sink, hastily washing out her brushes. The twinge is now a pulse.

Eight minutes later, she's turning over bags, searching drawers, wondering how in the hell she could have misplaced something so important. Maybe she has time to call up someone – but who? The Klokateers aren't hers to summon.

As she deliberates, the light of her phone stabs through her eyes. Her stomach lurches. It's too late.

Twelve minutes after the first twinge, Jimi has retreated to the dark cave of her bedspace. Clothes hastily shed and bonnet thrown on, she is cocooned by the blackout curtains surrounding her bed, blankets and pillows pulled over her head. Curled in a fetal position, breathing carefully through her mouth. The cool breaths of air soothe her aching stomach, as the migraine hits full force.

She'll lose the rest of the day and most of the night to this. Fortunately, her benefactors are merciful – to her, at least. There will be no penalty for taking the time off to take care of herself, and that at least is a small comfort as she swirls in a vortex of agony. If she closes her eyes tight enough, and waits, she can just sleep it away.

It's never easy to settle down when this happens, mind racing with all she needs to do. Should have done. Her work, her pills that should have been somewhere accessible, how stupid it was of her to assume she'd be fine here, knowing that she has no definite triggers.

But that’s for future Jimi, to berate past Jimi for not being prepared. Right now, this Jimi just wants peace, pain-free.

She fades in and out of consciousness, blessedly blackening out into the void, and has almost sunken completely when she hears the whispers at her door.

"I dunno, what if she doesn't wanna hang out?"

"When hasch she ever said no, Nathan? Huh? Let's fucking go!"

Well, maybe in another universe, they were whispers. Were they even trying to be quiet?

"Guys, maybe she should waits for her to come out on her owns?"

"She works too much, we've gots to go pal around now! It'll be good for her."

"Nathan and Skwisgaar are right, guys, we – Toki, dood, no, don't!"

The door slides open, despite Pickles' protests. Jimi can only groan quietly from her painful prison; she's really not in any state to entertain the guys, but if she tries to speak loud enough to tell them to go, she'll probably throw up. Maybe they'll just… get bored, and leave her be.

Alas, working with Dethklok is much like working with a bunch of teenage boys, who also happen to be cats. And krillionaires. Meaning they will get into absolutely everything while looking you in the eye, and no one can tell them no.

"Look, see? She's not here, so let's just go, okey?"

"We can at least look around, Pickles. We gotta make sure, right? Pickles?"

"That tone is naht gonna work on me today, Nathan."

"The fuck isch this? Modge podge?" Is he going through her supplies? "Looksch like cum." Ah.

"Put that down, Murderface." 

"Ooh, this ams her new work!"

"Get back over here, Toki! We are leaving, now."

"What abouts the bed?" Skwisgaar sounds close. Too close. Jimi curls up more. This would be funny if she didn't hurt so much. "Maybe she takes a nap?"

"Tch. Schleeping on the job…"

"Skwisgaar, wait, no, don't wear your boots over there –"

"Pickles, what is with you all of a sudden? It’s like you know all the rules of this place."

"Don't worry about it. Look, I'll check it out, all right? Just gimme a sec."

Funny how Jimi recognizes the shuffle of Pickles toeing off his shoes – he's really gotten mindful of that now, hasn't he? But the soft thought is cut short. Even under the darkness of her bedding and closed eyes, she still feels the light from her curtains opening, like getting hit with a bat.

"Ah!"

"Oh, crap–!"

Just as swiftly, the curtain closes. It's only a minor relief as the voices of the band rise in triumph.

"Founds her!"

"There she is, I heard that!"

"Yeah, no, everyone out."

"We can'ts even say hi?"

"Nope. Out, c'mon, everybody out."

The groans and complaints of those silly, baby, grown ass men grow more faint as they go back to what Jimi's assumes is her door, as she hears it slide shut, muffling their protests. (“But why does Pickle get to–?”)

It's quiet, again, and she sinks into the bed, not realizing how anxious she'd been. She thinks she's alone, until she hears the whispers of socks shuffling over the rugs of her living space.

"Jimi?" Pickles' soft voice is not entirely unexpected, but she still jumps. "I'm coming in, okee?"

She nods, not like he can see it, and even though she's prepared for the curtain opening, she still whimpers. The flash of light lasts only a moment, followed by the rustle of clothes as the drummer moves nearer.

She feels the bed dip slightly.

"Hey, Jimi?"

"Mmn."

"It's Pickles."

"Mmhm."

"The drummer."

"Hey."

"You sound like a frog."

"Yeah."

"What's the matter?"

Jimi sighs deeply, another attempt to soothe her nausea. She finally moves, shifting from her belly to her side so she can slip a hand from underneath the warm shell of her covers. 

The air of her room feels so cold, yet soon, she feels rough fingers on her own, closing over them.

"I'm in a lot of pain," Jimi croaks out. "Migraine."

“Oh, that’s it?” Pickles sounds relieved; she hears his exhale. "You didn't tell nobody?"

"I didn't… wanna be a bother."

The studio space is just for convenience. It's not Dethklok's responsibility to take care of her. Jimi should have been better prepared. All the care she put into making this space she was granted as efficient as could be, and she couldn't even do that properly.

She just wants to lay here. She can't even do that. Her fingers flex when she realizes Pickles hasn't moved, and his grip stays. Gentle, and firm.

As much as she doesn't want to be seen like this, in a bonnet and not at all put together, Jimi shuffles around until the pillow covering her head slides down enough so that she can peek out from her solitary haven.

There's not much she can see without her glasses, let alone in the dark. But she sees Pickles. She sees the green of his eyes here in the dark – deep as a forest, steadfast as moss, and not at all dimmed despite the lack of light.

Judging from the angle, he has his cheek pressed to her bed, peering sideways back at her.

"There ya are. … Can I getcha anything?"

Jimi swallows. She's too ill to be overwhelmed. "... Pain pills."

"I think what I got is a bit much for ya, but hold on." He finally pulls away, and Jimi closes her eyes as another wave hits her, listening to Pickles pat down his pockets. "Ah, can't see shit – I'm pulling out my phone."

Jimi can't tell, thankfully. Maybe he has it facing away from her, so the screen’s light doesn’t bother her. She's spent the most time with Pickles by now, come to think of it, but she still doesn't understand why he would be so kind to her. She wasn’t going to fool herself into thinking he was any less of a dick than the rest of the band.

"Oxy too much for ya?"

"Yeah. I need, ugh… Naproxen. Ibu… profen. Excedrin. Something like that."

There's a faint tock tock tock – is he typing? “Anythin’ else?”

“Ugh… caffeine?”

“Like coffee?”

“Yes, please. Not too hot.”

“Okey, just lemme…” There’s some more typing, and the bed dips again, deeper this time. Jimi’s shrunk back a little under her covers, but her hand is still out. And Pickles’ hand covers hers, thumb absently rubbing over her knuckles as he keeps typing.

Heat and pressure flood Jimi’s eyes and nose. Her throat constricts, unable to stop a choked sob from emerging.

“Whoa, whoa, hey.” Pickles stops typing, sets down his phone to take her hand in both of his, and Jimi squeezes her eyes against the tears that manage to escape. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

God, this is so embarrassing. Jimi has to take her time to just inhale, exhale, get a hold of herself, calm down. Why was this job making her cry so much, for the first time in years?

And Pickles just waits, which makes it worse.

“Why…” Her voice breaks, and now shame joins the various waves washing over her. Her voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Jimi would like to think she’s only a little stupid, even if she can be naïve. Like trying to see the good in her employers, knowing that the mortality rate just for being in their vicinity was astronomically high, and they hardly seemed to mind. Being vulnerable like this in front of someone who held so much power over her was beyond foolish and against everything she knew, was taught through her life and the lives of all the other women before her.

And yet.

And yet…

“I wasn’t gonna just leave ya like that,” Pickles says. Gently. “Honestly, when I saw ya huddled up like that, I thought…” He fidgets, hands shifting around to rub his thumbs in slow circles over hers. “We can’t hang out if yer feeling bad.”

Jimi smiles, despite everything. “I have work to do.”

“Eh. It can wait.”

When was the last time anyone had sat with her like this, when she was feeling at her worst, even more useless to everyone? Jimi hardly remembers. She’s been on her own so long, now, always had herself to rely on when she got sick and couldn’t push through it to make it to work. Even when she still lived at home. Even when she was with her partners, who had insisted on helping, the one time she arrived stumbling, vision blurred even further from the severity of her migraine.

They wanted to help, and still Jimi insisted she was fine, she could handle it, don’t worry, she’ll be fine soon, then…

She pushes away those memories, sets herself adrift in the haze between the waking world and sleep, the physical and beyond. Faintly, she hears Pickles typing on his phone again, but there’s still the embrace of one hand. Warm, anchoring, floating along with her.

Jimi isn’t sure how long they stay like that, but eventually, Pickles rises, taking his warmth with him with a soft, “Be right back.”

And she thinks that’s the end of it, but she feels more at peace now, and could fall asleep like this, falling away from her myriad of thoughts and worrisome memories.

Only Pickles returns. She hears the soft clunk of something being set on her nightstand.

“Hey, Jim. Can ya sit up? I’m gonna turn yer lamp on, okee?”

Mercifully, Pickles turns the dimmer slowly, so Jimi doesn’t even feel the glow from beneath her blankets. She has time to brace herself before emerging from beneath the covers – and pulling the sheet around her chest, almost forgetting herself. She’s not so out of it that she isn’t self-conscious, and it’s starting to hurt her head, so she slips off her silk bonnet, running a hand over her curls so that they have some kind of shape.

She blinks towards the blur that is Pickles, who hands her a small packet. “Here ya go. Got some naproxen for ya.” 

“Thank you.” Jimi tears the paper open to deposit the pills, and Pickles takes her free hand, carefully placing a warm cup in her grasp.

“And here’s yer coffee. Careful, hon.”

“Thank you,” Jimi says again, taking the painkillers with a careful sip. 

The coffee is gently warm, beautifully roasted and delicately sweetened, with floral notes. She takes a longer drink, holding the cup in both hands, the caffeine immediately doing its work to dampen her migraine, leaving her more clear-headed and coherent. The brew is creamy, yet it wasn’t cow milk, she was certain.

“This is… wonderful. Is that lavender? And coconut.” She looks up at Pickles, wishing she could see his expression. Had he just been watching her this whole time? “I love it. Thank you, Pickles.”

“Oh, yeah, s’no big deal.” He shifts, seems to scratch his arm or something. “I know you like all that flowery stuff, like, essence of rose, or whatever. And ya don’t drink dairy, so…”

Jimi hopes she looks grateful; as it is, she’s squinting, her bleary vision still adjusting to the low light. “You remembered all that?”

“It’s nothin'.” He shrugs. “I just gave Jean-Pierre some notes, and he whipped that up for ya. He should get yer thanks.”

“But you got this for me. You did all of this for me. So… thank you.”

Silence falls, and Jimi continues her drink. Just as she wonders why Pickles hasn’t left yet, he shuffles a bit, rubbing a socked foot along her rug.

“... So, er…”

“... Would you like to sit down?”

“Even in my outside clothes?”

“You already did. Have you been outside today?” Without waiting for an answer, Jimi pats the space next to her. “Come here.”

It’s not as weird as it should be, perhaps, when Pickles settles beside her, folding a leg up on her bed, with only a few layers of blanket separating the two. When Jimi leans against his shoulder and feels Pickles relax, it just feels natural. When his arm slides behind her and he leans against her side, cheek pressed to her curls, it feels right.

Jimi’s lips touch her cup, the ceramic soft and inviting. She breathes deep, senses awash with renewal. There’s the warmth of Pickles against her, the soft rush of their breaths. The tickle of tobacco in her nose, the iridescent static dancing behind her closed lids. And on her tongue, lavender. Serenity. Calm. Pure and Silent. What else?

There’s a sixth feeling. Its tendril curls around her, and gives the faintest brush against her aching heart.

#metalocalypse #pickles the durmmer #mtl oc #my writing #nnnneeeehhhhhhhh!!!

[min-yunki-agustd]

I really like this and I hope you do too! Thanks for requesting!

Sickie: Jimin

Caretakers: Doctor Min, Nurse Taehyung

TW: emeto, tummy examination, incorrect medical terms, etc.

________________________________________________________

Jimin scheduled an appointment with the doctor. He had to call out of work today due to severe pain in his stomach. Jungkook had been taking care of him, but his boss told him he'd be fired if he missed another day of work. So he told him to go to the hospital to see about his stomach troubles. The male nurse told him that it was his turn to be seen. He follows the nurse who is very tall. Once Jimin saw the nurse's face he noticed that he has eyes that are hard to look away from and hard to see because Jimin was standing behind the man. Jimin was staring as they walked. The nurse wore dark blue scrubs he also had oddly shaped shoes that would squeak when he walked. Jimin is guided to a room with white walls and a strip of decoration around them. The nurse speaks. His voice is deep and carries across the room. It caught Jimin off guard. " Wait here, doctor min will be here momentarily. Taehyung left the room to go grab paperwork about the patient. He takes Jimins files and hands them to Dr. Min, "thank you." Dr. Min says. Nurse taehyung consoles the Dr. about the patient. They look at his past history and look for important information they might need to know before examining the patient.

Once they gather everything they need they go to Jimin's room and enter. The Dr. gives Jimin a simple but warm hello. Asked how he was as he enters the room with the nurse. "I'm Dr. Min I'll be your doctor today." Yoongi does his usual routine for a check-up. He goes and washes his hands and puts on gloves. As he does so he introduces his nurse. " This is nurse Kim, as you probably already knew he is your nurse today." He's going to help me help you." yoongi chuckles at the corny joke he made. No one else in the room laughs. Yoongi grabs the rolling chair. The last person to have used it placed it under the examination table. He grabs it and sits. Jimin watches. the nurse towers over the doctor, especially when the doctor sits Jimin thinks. " Jimin's not sure if the doctor and he are just short or if the nurse was just really tall. Nurse Kim stands in the back of the room. He holds a pen with the hospital's logo and a folder with printed papers on the side and top of it. He seems to be writing down important info. "ok, your name is Park Ji-min right" Jimin nods. " ok so what brings you in today, Mr. Park? " Jimin takes a breath and puts a hand on his stomach before talking. " My stomach has been really off lately." The nurse behind the doctor begins to write faster. Dr. Min nods his head as he listens to his patient. " I thought it was just a stomach ache, I get those when I'm extremely nervous. Jimin is a professional ballet dancer and tends to get a terrible stomach ache when he has a really big performance. He'll feel sick enough to puke but once he shakes away the feeling he calms his mind and does what he loves the most. He usually feels fine afterward.

"mh hmm," the Dr says. I thought that was what it was but after the performance this time it didn't go away it stayed. Jimin continues. "I thought I'd be fine the next day but it persisted, It makes me feel nauseous when I try to eat, and ..... because of that I got sick," Jimin says moving his eyes around the room. Dr. Min takes the stethoscope from around his neck as Jimin talks. "Is that so? Yoongi says." How bout now?" do you feel any nausea? and stomach pain?" My nausea dies down if I don't eat. Dr. Min looks at the younger man alittle funny as he puts the cold stethoscope on his chest. "there's still quite a bit of pain in my stomach." Jimin adds. " what about today?" Dr. Min asks. Did you eat today?" the doctor looks Jimin in the eye. Jimin feels embarrassed. "no" " I- didn't want to throw up." " and I get carsick easy so I knew it was only going to make it worse. My friend tried to make me eat, but I declined. " Jimin says. " you should definitely eat when you are up to it, you should stay hydrated as well. Jimin nods his head. Yoongi checks the patient's ears, eyes, breathing, pulse, and bodily function. His heart rate was a bit fast. He was probably just nervous, but it was in good shape...

"This part I'm afraid may be a little difficult." yoongi says. "can you please lay down for me and lift your shirt. Jimin felt his body heat up. he wasn't sure how his stomach would react to being touched. Dr. min scooted his chair closer. "Now, if you feel too uncomfortable or need a break let me know." Dr. Min says before he begins. The nurse walks up closer and inspects the doctor as he works. Jimin is sweating. He can feel himself get nervous. Jimin stays quiet and holds on to his shirt tightly keeping it out of the doctors' way. Dr. Min notices that Jimin is halfway up and watching " Please relax it be more comfortable if you lay back and look at the ceiling," Dr. Min says. He needs the boy to be distracted. He eyes his nurse and The nurse walks over. Pulling a stationary chair from the side and sitting facing Jimin. Yoongi begins pressing on Jimins stomach. He feels uncomfortable. Nurse Kim rests his papers in his lap. " I can tell you are nervous but there really is nothing to worry about," tae assures Jimin. " Dr. Min and I have been doing this for years so you have nothing to worry about," Kim explains. This gives Jimin's mind a little ease. " just take calm slow breaths." Kim says. Jimin does so, he can feel himself relax. At that same moment, Yoongi pressed down hard on a sensitive section of Jimin's stomach. He didn't like it at all. He felt excruciating pain there. Jimin pushes the Doctors hand away and cries out in pain. The yelp sturs up his stomach. Dr. Min tries to calm him and let him finish his work but he doesn't. Jimin insists that he can't handle it and that he feels nauseated by it.

The nurse and doctor leave out of the room. So the patient can have time to collect himself and so they can consult the adviser. Afterward, the two try again. Dr. Min is the first to try to enter the room he knocks beforehand and steps in. He only opened the heavy door halfway before he can smell it. As soon as the smell hits his nose he wants to retract his hand from the door, but he can't do that. He opened the door all the way. Jimin was standing in the middle of the floor He was gagging over a large pile of bile. Dr. Min looks at the nurse. " you didn't get him a sick bag?" yoongi says quietly so the patient couldn't hear. " I thought he'd be ok and you didn't tell me to anyways?!" Nurse Kim says back. Min walks into the room and puts a hand on Jimin's shoulder. He guides Jimin back onto the examination table. Nurse Kim grabs a bag from one of the cabinets and hands it to Jimin. He leaves the room to find a custodian. He comes back with an older man with a cart. The man cleans the area and Dr. min continues the examination. He went back to examining Jimins tummy. He did the lighter presses first. testing the waters. Jimin would ask for a break and min would retract his hands and wait, asking how he feels and explaining what was about to happen next. once the doctor was back touching Jimin's tummy Jimin tried hard not to fight it. The motion was painful and made him tense up.

This process made the examination take longer than it typically would. Jimin felt terrible. every touch made him feel sick. He kept still and he tried pushing threw. There was a particular time that Jimin could not handle the pressure of Dr. Min's hands on his stomach and he had to stop. He could feel yesterday's dinner rising again. He sat up and held the bag the nurse gave him close to his mouth. He burped. He felt embarrassed to do so. The nurse and doctor look unhazed and even gave him a bit of space. He throws up alittle more bile but not much else. Dr. Min gives Him time to settle down and calm his nerves. Eventually, Dr. Min was right back at it. This time it was more painful for Jimin because his stomach was quite sore. No matter how gentle or light the doctor was it all felt painful to his stomach. Jimin tried staying still for the Doctor, it was very difficult with how his stomach was feeling now. Dr. Min put three fingers on Jimin's stomach and checked each area. His gloved hands were cold against Jimin's skin making the process feel much worse.

The entire time Nurse Kim stood near, writing down every detail about the examination as it happened. including the patient's reactions. It Most likely being a factor in Jimins condition. Dr. Min put one hand on top of the other and pressed down on Jimins upper left region, there was a lot of pressure and stiffness in that particular section and it didn't change every time Dr. min pressed it. Dr. Min looked back to Nurse Kim and told in a series of words Jimin didn't understand which made him more nervous. Dr. Min looked back at Jimin and took off his stethoscope. " I'm going to listen to your intestines so please try to be still and quiet." " Jimin nodded at the doctor. The stethoscope was even colder than the doctor's hands. Jimin was surprised by the cold pressure and winced unintentionally moving his body away. The doctor asked him to be still and Jimin apologized. Dr. Min begins on the right side. He stared off into the blank wall as he listened. It was nothing out of the usual. He moved to the upper right. same thing. The sounds from Jimin's intestine began to get unusual when The doctor slid the stethoscope to the middle and naval area. He told his nurse to write that down. Tae did so quickly.

Jimin winced from the pressure of the stethoscope once it reached the other side of his body. Dr. Min took that into account along with the odd noises he was hearing. He told his nurse about it. Dr. Min removed the stethoscope from his ears and wrapped them around his neck. The Doctor explains that there may be a problem and that they would have to run further tests on the boy.....

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I hope you enjoyed it! thanks for requesting!

#sick!jimin #sick bts #bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw nausea #tw vomit #tw emeto ment #btssickfic request #tw emetophobia #tw stomachache #doctoryoongi #nursetaehyung #doctorsuga #sickjimin #jiminsickie

[gonzogodzilla]

Anyway I'm simultaneously feeling the most mentally stable AND fucked up that I have in a long time. And I know why, the fucked up part is that I'm falling into old destructive patterns to feel like I have some sort of control over my life. Which is why I actually feel SO much more secure and stable, I've channeled the instability into a "controlled" pain.

Now the pain is that comfy old friend ED. She's a bitch. I know exactly what I'm doing and I will not tell anyone, not even my therapist. And I know that's psychotic, I know that's wrong. I'm aware of exactly what I'm doing.

It doesn't help that it started because one of my many glorious mystery chronic illness symptoms lately has been nausea. So I was eating less because of that, and then that empty feeling tickled a part of my brain and here we are. Today I've eaten... well honestly not technically nothing but none of it was a real meal. Mostly coffee and beer (beer has calories, is that a win?).

Its amazing how much more quickly my body reacts to abuse than it did as a teen. I think it's been like a month of this garbage and my hair is already fucked and brittle. I mean I guess I haven't been eating well for a while, it's just taken a severe dip recently. (I have never been good at eating when I live alone).

It's actually fascinating to watch? In like a really fucking morbid way. Do most people who do this shit know it's awful? I'm led to believe they're all in denial. I 100% know it's wrong and bad for me and all of that. I know it's not sustainable. I know it'll end in madness. I know it could very well eventually kill me.

I guess it's like smoking. You do it knowing literally all of the risks, and you just sort of assume it won't happen to you? Or hope. Or I mean maybe you subconsciously DO hope it'll happen to you. Do I really want to live another 40 years? 50? My grandma is 73 this year, I'm 32 this year. Thinking about having that much time left makes me want to be throw up, how the fuck am I supposed to go another 40 fucking years? I'm not even at the half way point? Fuck.

I'm not sure if the people who think life is short are happier than me or if they just don't see it. I have lived 31 years, it's a lifetime. And I have at least that left? Another lifetime? Unbelievable. Fake news. Couldn't be me.

This is rambling and I'm still going to post it and no one is going to read it. And that's fine. I'm not even drunk, for once. I am fully and totally conscious. Is this an autistic thing? Do we just KNOW ourselves so well we can be totally in the midst of... madness and self-destruction and just... choose it? I don't know how else to handle being alive quite frankly. And if SLOWLY killing myself is the answer to not immediately checking out then quite frankly it's an easy choice.

I have no counter. I know it's bad. I know I shouldn't. But I'm going to anyway. Because as bad as it feels, I know it could feel worse. I know it could be just over with no do-over. At least this way there is a chance of coming out the other side. It's harm reduction. It's genuinely the least destructive.

Because honestly I want a cigarette so fucking badly these days. But I know it'll curb my appetite and then I'll not only be starving myself but I'll also be poisoning my body to boot. Somehow this is the better option, and that is genuinely astounding. It's like when my doctor told my mum that he would prefer her smoking actual cigarettes to vaping, because we KNOW the harm cigarettes do but we don't actually know enough about vaping.

I apologize for the block of text to anyone who is still active and follows me. I'm posting it. I'm not deleting it. I want this for my own future reference. I'm sure someday this will be informative? I don't even know know how else to explain it.

There has to be someone as crazy as me out there.

#personal #ED #trigger warning #eating disorders #disordered eating #autism

[thissugarcane]

qaf rewatch: 4x09

I'm on a roll / I want to get through the "second act" of S4, as it were! this is the one where justin pushes back. I think. "have some balls."

first scene: brian's dream

vic torturing brian's balls a la evil villain and radiating brian's balls; "who knows, you might even get a few more good years. like me"

brian wakes up on the radiation table. doctor: "I should warn you, you're gonna feel fine for the next few hours but you're gonna hit a wall around noon. nausea, pain, fatigue: they're all normal side effects. in fact, I suggest that for the next few days you just stay home. take it easy. don't go to work." Brian: "Thank you nurse. that's excellent advice."

[random discussion of cancer treatments]

so okay wait. brian only goes for radiation once? my mom's skull tumour they did radiation every day for five days

cancer.org's radiation treatment for testicular cancer says: https://www.cancer.org/cancer/testicular-cancer/treating/by-stage.html

for stage I seminoma: "Radiation therapy: Radiation aimed at para-aortic lymph nodes is another option. These nodes are in the back of the abdomen (belly), around the large blood vessel called the aorta. Because seminoma cells are very sensitive to radiation, low doses can be used. About 10 to 15 treatments are given over 2 to 3 weeks."

So he'd be in radiation for 2-3 weeks after a stage 1 seminoma

otoh it doesn't say whether Brian had a stage 1 or stage IIA seminoma:

radiation treatment for Stage IIA seminomas: Radiation: After surgery to remove the testicle (radical inguinal orchiectomy), one treatment option is radiation to the retroperitoneal lymph nodes. These are the lymph nodes at the back of the abdomen (belly). Usually stage II seminomas are given higher doses of radiation than stage I seminomas.

Mostly I'm curious because again, with my mom's radiation she was tired -- like fatigued to the point of barely being able to get up -- for months after radiation... but it didn't start immediately. in fact the first few weeks she kept saying she felt okay, THEN the fatigue set in.

I don't know enough about testicular cancer -- or about radiation treatments circa 2003 -- to be able to assess the reasonability of these symptoms or the general timeline of brian getting better :/

anyway.

next scene: at ben and michael's

hunter is talking about what to do in hollywood (he wants to go to universal studios).

ben's still being all "aren't you being a bit premature?" he's still not super thrilled about it. once ben leaves michael points out ben is sensitive to the hollywood stuff

next scene: at kinnetik [morning, guess right after radiation]

this is the sad part where brian says he wants justin to fuck off.

justin is in the lobby, brian: "what the fuck are you doing here?" justin: "I'm waiting for you. you won't answer the door, you won't return my calls..." Brian: "Well that should be a hint." Justin: "Why won't you see me?" Brian: yelling for Cynthia to throw justin out. Justin: "You can't just kick me out." Brian: "Watch me."

Cynthia here is literally baffled and confused to hell

okay, so it's terrible how brian throws justin out of kinnetik here and is a complete shit, but let's also point out that again, there's a youngish white guy (the same guy from the meeting??) and a black woman (again, the same woman from the meeting??)

there's also a blond guy with longer hair in the background of this shot.

brian's staff is like. he's got ten employees, period, doesn't he.

next scene: at the graveyard

deb and emmett, vic's gravestone is normal now

emmett gets a call and deb finally apologizes and tries to make her peace.

in the background emmett is chatting with somebody and then you hear "what? arrested??" "what did you do? DUI? well who's gonna help me cater the party tonight?" lol

next scene: at the diner

lindsay, mel and michael moaning over the ultrasound

michael wants to go to lamaze with Mel instead of lindsay because lindsay is busy

justin is leaving the diner (after a shift?) and michael says to Justin, "hey, where have you been! I need those panels so I can come with some dialogue for the evil anal prober" Justin: "how about up your ass?" Michael: "Sounds about right."

Justin and michael on the street: Justin tells him to fuck off because Michael told Brian.

Michael: "Look, I didn't mean to. It just.." Justin: "What, slipped out? We know you have cancer? That is the fucking lamest excuse I've ever heard. You're the one who said we should be strong and honor his wishes." Michael: "I'm sorry--" Justin: [yelling] "Do you have any idea how hard that's been! Why are you sorry? did he kick you out? Does he never wanted to see you again? Well, if that's the way he wants it I'll be glad to honor those wishes too."

new scene: at the university library

ben checking out books and meets his student working behind the counter - he introduces himself and says he loved Ben's first book

Anthony Flynn: flirting with him and Ben's all "it's my policy not to fraternize with my students" and he's still flirting.

new scene: at deb's [afternoon]

Emmett trying to get a caterer last-minute

deb says she'll do it, em's like "thanks, but I need a chef". Emmett's "don't take this the wrong way, but not everything is covered in marinara sauce."

emmett bugs deb about carl and encourages her that he was into her.

Deb says the scrumptious mousse is from darren: "I sent him food every day from the diner [...] and now he sends me goodies back." and then emmett runs tf out -- a chef! a chef!

next scene: at kinnetik [afternoon]

ted coming into brian's office and brian is laying down on the couch asleep and clearly half-dead

Ted: "Jesus christ, what's wrong?" Brian: "I'm fine. Why d'you ask?" Ted: "Well for one thing you look like shit." Brian: "Thank you."

this is where Ted sits down and tries to get Brian to admit to his addiction, and Brian is like "[you moron] it's cancer, Theodore."

And Ted is is like, shocked and Brian's all, "relax, they got it. I'm in radiation. Started this morning. Would you excuse me?" and he runs to the bathroom to throw up.

Also, randomly, the walls in Brian's office are bare concrete daubed with bright paint colours - did justin do that?

this entire thing is great and very important but also just. cute.

next scene: at the university cafeteria [after lunchtime]

ben and that student talking about being infected and not, and everything.

ben: "can I ask you a personal question? [...] are you positive?" anthony: "No." ben says he's just finished a novel but no one's picked it up and anthony says I'd love to read it.

this kid is still flirty as hell.

next scene: at woody's during the day

emmett comes in watching while Darren is practicing

emmett introduces himself, Darren's super weirded out and Emmett finally explains that he's looking for a chef.

"You want Shanda Leer to perform at a party?" Emmett: "No. I want Darren, to cook for a party." Darren: "But I'm not a chef." Emmett: "Well, you do a fabulous impersonation of that too. I mean, those delicacies you've been sending over to Deb's are to die for! Uh, no offence, Vic."

Darren: "I'd love to help you out, but, Shanda's making a comeback and-- god I hate that word. It's a return! There's just no time." Emmett: "Well. Can't blame a girl for trying."

[...] Then darren trips on the stage and breaks a shoe, points out the costuming is expensive. Emmett: "Honey, let's review. You need dough, and I need someone to stuff it with porcini and mushrooms."

next scene: at the comic store

Hunter brings mail by from Brett to michael: it's two checks for Michael and Justin, for $10,000.

Now that doesn't seem all that large.

they're both so excited. and then hunter opens ben's mail and they find out ben got rejected again.

next scene: at horvath's office

deb comes by -- this is where Carl says he's been seeing someone else: "Couple of months now. Name's Catherine." and deb pretends to be cool with it and is all "that's nice! I'm happy for you carl!"

next scene: at kinnetik [afternoon]

ted giving the dandy lube presentation and failing it with cynthia in the room, failing to pretend to be Brian

oh god this is so painful. Cynthia just stands up and takes over because she's actually better at the presentation

the son, Doug -- who looks a lot like chris hobbs -- is like "the gays are a big market" and then when the guy is like "where's the men's room" Cynthia's all "that's your cue you know, make brian proud!"

a direct copy of that 1x02 scene where brian pulls the client into the stall. and Ted at least nails this part, even if he flubbed the pitch

next scene: at the gallery

sam comes by to talk to lindsay and lindsay's all weird about her painting of sam naked

sam knows he's nailed the deal with lindsay -- but I do think he's also honest about the fact that he likes her art when she's invigorated

like, he's clearly got an agenda to fuck her but he's not lying about how her art isn't good unless she's taking risks [which is a paraphrase but, still] - he uses the truth to manipulate and use women

next scene: at the loft [evening]

michael shows up and knocks till brian answers (who looks like shit)

the window says it's evening - this has to be the same day that justin yells at michael?

Michael: jesus, what happened to you? Brian: chernobyl. Michael: "Christ, you should be in bed." Brian: "Well I was, but someone kept knock, knock, knocking at my fucking door. ...what are you doing?"

Michael: "I'm making some chicken soup." [opens the fridge] "there's nothing in here but beer and poppers." Brian: "All the essentials." Michael: "Well, gonna have to stock up on groceries." Brian: "Michael. Michael" Michael: "And as long as I'm here I can do your laundr--" Brian [yelling]: "Michael!"

Brian: "This is exactly why I did not want anyone to know, it's why I told everyone that I went to Ibiza. In the hopes that I wouldn't be treated like an invalid, or a victim, or like I was gonna die. Now would you get out of here!"

brian goes back to bed, but michael is not put off. Michael follows him as brian puts the pillow over his head.

Brian: "What don't you understand about fuck off?" Michael: "Think you can kick me out of here the way you did Justin? And for what? Trying not to let on that he knew? Because that's the way you wanted it? He deserves to know. He's your lover. Your partner, whether you want to admit it or not."

you know what? Brian has admitted it, though. So this is a bit contrived, even though an afraid brian would be this selfish and lash out.

Michael [continuing]: "And sick or not that's a fucking shitty way to treat him." Brian: "I was only trying to make it easier." Michael: "By never seeing him again?" Brian: "He would have left sooner or later anyway, might as well be sooner."

and there we have quintessential Brian: he does not in any way, shape or form not believe that Justin won't leave.

Michael: "What are you--" Brian: "Would you just go home Michael? Go home! To your wife, and your kid!" and like a five year old, Brian rolls back over and puts the pillow over his head.

next scene: at a party at Drew Boyd's house [evening]

oh yeah, this is Drew Boyd's engagement party that Emmett is catering!

Darren: "Those Ironmen are delectable." Emmett: "Almost as delectably as your cherries jubilee."

Darren and Emmett look really great in their very fashionable, professional clothes, and they do extremely well, despite being made fun of by the football players.

Emmett pulls Drew Boyd aside and [without making a scene] says "I hope I'm not out of place for saying this-- actually, I don't give a fuck if I am" and then gives Drew Boyd shit for talking about him and Darren behind their back. And does it without being rude or ruining the party

next scene: at ben and michael's

ben notices his publisher's letter is open, gets another rejection and then gives up, and starts getting a bit mad about their assistance

Michael bought Ben a fancy new laptop with Brett's money and ben says he doesn't want michael's pity, which is sort of fair

hunter: "So... does this mean I get the computer?"

next scene: at woody's [night]

Debbie sitting at the bar when Emmett comes by, they talk about the party, Darren worked out well

Debbie is drinking lager, talking about how she lost Carl and how she didn't realize until he was gone that she wanted him

next scene: at lamaze class [next morning I guess?]

mel and michael making fun of the straight couples and "how we've come so far, how lucky, such stable home lives" except thery're all about to fall apart

next scene: at the comic store [next morning]

justin's outside as michael comes up

Justin's just like "I came for the check" and when Michael gives it to him he walks off

Michael: "Hey, wait up." Justin: "What for?" Michael: "I saw Brian last night." Justin: "Well lucky you." Michael: "He looked like shit. Felt so bad he could hardly get out of bed" Justin: "I'm sorry to hear that but it really doesn't concern me anymore." Michael: "That's bullshit."

Justin: "He fucking kicked me out. Said he didn't want to see me again." Michael: "More like he doesn't want you to see him." Justin finally stops walking and starts listening.

So it's really sad, but also fair, for Justin to really not understand so wholly. Like. He can't even fathom that Brian believes Justin won't love him, because Justin loves him so much that how can Brian even think it?

Michael: "You read the Kinney operating manual! He thinks now that he's sick, that he's no longer perfect, that you won't love him anymore. That you're gonna leave him." Justin: "That's crazy. Even for him."

Michael: "Not if you've put all your eggs in one basket, so to speak. When being young, being beautiful, when being Brian Kinney is what it's all about, take that away, he figures, what's he got?"

And sure, Justin walks off, but Michael has obviously heard him

next scene: at the gallery

Sam Aubach's paintings are very abstracted

now lindsay is totally all right with him touching her, gross

All it takes to get into Lindsay's pants is complimenting her art

next scene: at ben and michael's [evening]

Ben preparing a lecture and mostly ignoring Michael

Ben is being very calm and objective but also definitely not dealing with this rejection or him blaming michael at all

Ben: I'm refocusing my goals and deciding to not write but teach. He's definitely avoiding this conversation by pretending to be all zen lol

next scene: at Drew Boyd's [night]

Emmett shows up looking for Drew's fiancee, for his check and his equipment

oh right, this is where drew seduces him in a grossly straight guy manner

this season is, apparently, all about gross straight guys being manipulative and hiding from the truth?

drew boyd: seducing the queen while acting straight and pretending

sam aubach: seducing lindsay

even brian hiding from justin about his cancer, though brian isn't being as manipulative as the others

next scene: at ben's office [night]

creepy anthony drops by ben's office to talk about ben's book

hey, another parallel: creepy anthony seducing ben via his book and sam seducing lindsay via her art

next scene: at kinnetik [must be next morning]

brian barely getting through the day, guess this is day two of radiation?

"Dandy Lube just called, we got'em" - so maybe two days after the presentation and when brian throws him out

ted is all confident and throws brian out of the office, but brian feels like such shit he doesn't disagree

next scene: at the loft [afternoon]

brian getting home and barely standing

justin at the stove as if he belongs there making chicken soup

okay, so let's recap: brian threw justin out, but obviously he didn't change the alarm code, or the locks, since justin just. got in. some part of him wanted him to come back?

we could argue that it's because lindsay, michael, fuckin everyone else who has a damned key wouldn't be able to get in then, but...

also, if justin was basically living with brian after the kinnetik launch party (daphne disappeared these episodes), and brian threw him out, where'd justin's stuff go?

Brian: "Thought I told you to get out." Justin: "Guess I didn't hear. You tend to mumble a lot." Brian slaps his portfolio on the kitchen island.

also, let's talk about the fact that brian's kitchen island is on wheels, but theoretically it's also got a range where justin is making soup on. lol set continuity. it's okay!

Justin: "You want some soup? It's debbie's homemade recipe." Brian: "no wonder I feel like barfing. Listen to me, you little shit. I don't. want. you here." Justin: [calmly] "I don't care what you want."

Brian goes to grab him and haul him away -- again, like, the second real time Brian's put his hands on Justin.

Justin: "You're not getting rid of me." Justin tosses him and Brian falls to the ground. Justin: "Shit, are you alright? Tell me you're--" Brian: "I'm allright!" Justin: "You're not all right." Brian: [getting up and yelling] "Then why the hell are you asking me for?"

and here's justin's line: "So I can tell you what a motherfucking piece of shit you are for not telling me. For shutting me out. For thinking you could handle this on your own. And most of all, for thinking I would leave you. Why would you think that? Because you had a ball removed? Because you're no longer perfect? Well believe me Mr. Kinney. That is the least of your imperfections. And if I'd wanted to leave you, I've had better reasons. Plenty of them."

it's not Justin's fault, but. throwing this in brian's face right at this point in time, no matter how well-meaning, is probably not the best way to reassure him that justin is not, in fact, leaving. oh justin.

Brian: "Well maybe you should have." Justin: "Yeah, maybe you're right. But I thought we had a commitment. And I plan to stand by it. Now why don't you get your ass back in bed, you son of a bitch. And eat some fucking chicken soup."

I sort of actually hate this scene? because justin inadvertantly tells brian he isn't leaving because he made a commitment, not because he *wants* to. and what brian wants is justin to *want* to be there. idk.

on the other hand, it's not exactly Justin's fault -- he's dealing with a lot.

#queer as folk us #qaf

[watermelinoe]

holy shit. it's endo belly. that's what the bloating was and why it stopped on birth control. and the vaccine is probably why it's happening again rn

#like that has to be it bc it's not cancer and they've only ever found one itty bitty ovarian cyst #also explains my low back and leg pain #whatever was in this second dose made my reproductive organs PISSED #i really was not missing this endometriosis symptom!! any time that wants to stop i'd love it!!!! #it was gone briefly but i feel it. lurking. i am still bloated and soon i will be barfy again #i've reached the pissed off stage of feeling like shit fjskfjskdhs it's been three days and i have HAD it #pain is easy. i know what i'm doing. nausea makes me want to throw a tantrum like a toddler and it will not go away #i chug the anti nausea medicine and my swollen ass gut laughs in contempt

[hellofanidea]

@bitch-butter Sorry this has taken so long to do! And that it drifted a bit off prompt. I hope it`s still enjoyable!

9 - Show me where it hurts

Joe's on the beach again.

It's sunset, the colours nonsensical even in reality, blurring and blending as the sun dips down into the water, bobbing like a ship as it submerges on the horizon.

There's someone stood with him as he stares out at the water, and Joe pulls his eyes away to see who. He's in Class As, so an Easy man, but his face keeps changing, running like melted wax until Joe stands no hope of guessing who. It isn't David though. Joe would know David even if he was wearing the wrong face entirely, from the light of his eyes or the touch of his hand or the flutter of his laughter.

"I'm sorry," the man says, despite having no mouth to use, and he sounds a little like Christenson, maybe Grant, the way they sounded when he called up after the dock remained stubbornly empty.

Pain lances up through Joe when he thinks of that, and he looks away from the nebulous, shifting soldier to the little wooden pier, much too close and much too empty. His throat sticks, filling, and he forces himself to turn away and move through the sand towards the house.

He finds himself in their bedroom, alone, the space suddenly stretched wide and high around him, the emptiness palpable. Their bed looks huge, daunting, the sheets rumpled like the last time they got out of bed together, Joe wrestling David into the mattress with a laugh before he could disappear out of the house. He wants to dive into it, curl under the sheets and seek out some last errant trace of him. When he tries to move, to sink into the promise of memory, the world tilts.

David opens his mouth to speak, and all that comes out is blood and seawater.

David is stood under the doorframe to their living room. Soaked, dripping, hair plastered to his head and water weighing down his ODs. There's a puddle forming around him, and for a moment the only thought Joe can conjure is atleast it's not on the rug. It sounds so violently like his mother he almost laughs, even as his hands shake and David turns paler, paler, until he's almost grey, the water collecting around him running ruddy.

Joe wakes up gasping.

He's half out of the bed, head and one arm dangling precariously from where he's startled upon waking and slipped too far over the side. It takes a moment to pull himself together enough to even move, and when he lands on his back, he throws one arm out to rouse David. Joe's arm meets only empty air and the covers.

Panic lurches up violently through his stomach as it had when he was asleep, his sleep addled mind trying to make sense of the absence. David's a heavy sleeper, and Joe can count on one hand the number of times he's roused himself without Joe's prodding. Clumsily, he pushes himself up so he's sitting, can see the bed in it's entirety. The bare stretch of it plucks eerily at the memory of his dream. That swooping sensation of loss it had brought him suddenly returns, doubles, and Joe tries to arrange his thoughts, attempts to pull memory from fiction.

At the forefront of everything is the water, the waves lapping at the sand, and that heavy knot of dread as he looks out at an unbroken horizon.

The empty dock.

Joe feels suddenly like retching, like his insides have knotted around each other and are forcing themselves up in one big ball. There's more, a part of him can recognise that, but what stands out most is that new, gaping, emptiness, the too visceral fear.

The grief.

His breathing constricts. It feels a little like he's been punched, and the sick feeling keeps rising until he actually has to turn his head, just in case. Only, he overbalances, propelling himself off the edge of the bed, sending him into the bedside table and onto the floor with a clatter and a yell. One of his legs manages to stay on the bed, tangled in the sheets, but Joe finds himself face down on the floor, his head throbbing and the nausea no better. The urge to burst into tears of overwhelmed frustration floods him.

"Joe? Are you alright?"

The footsteps surprise him more than maybe they should, as does the voice. Both have him twisting as best he can to see the doorway where David is standing. His attempt to answer comes out as more of a groan, and David crouches down beside him, gently trying to ease him up.

"Come on, slowly. Show me where it hurts."

It hurts in a few places. It hurts a little less as his dream starts to let go and return his missing pieces of reality to him. That empty dock and bone deep fear had been real, but so had the last few months since David's return and subsequent recovery. The proof of that is knelt in front of him as Joe leans back on the table he just bounced off of, looking like he can't decide between being concerned or amused. It's a face that makes that knot in Joe's chest unravel and turn into a relieved warmth. Trying to talk again makes him aware of how hard he's been breathing, and probably has been for a long few minutes.

"Did you fall out of bed?" David asks him, incredulous and worried at the same time. He brings one hand up like he's going to try feeling around Joe's head for a lump, and Joe bats it away, letting his own hand collide with his chest and settle there. There's a heartbeat going loud and strong beneath the thin t-shirt, and the steady rhythm of it grounds him.

"Fine. 'M fine. Fucking stupid..." he grumbles, his free hand wiping at his face. No tear tracks, just a hot flush. He shouldn't hide this from David, he knows, but he doesn't want to burden him either.

"Are you sure? You might be concussed."

Now David definitely sounds amused, and Joe swats at him lightly.

"Fuck off. And no old man jokes."

David's laugh is high and delighted. It used to be such a common sound, but it feels like an age since he last heard it. Feeling it vibrate beneath his palm makes Joe feel a little lighter.

"Wouldn't dream, liebling." David's voice gets soft at the end, his eyes searching Joe's face. Joe lets his guard down for him just a little, allows his expression to soften from the twist of annoyance into more open affection. When David brings his hand up again, Joe lets it settle on his cheek, tilting his face to kiss the broad palm.

"I'm okay," he assures him, despite the slight throbbing of his head. "Are you okay?"

The confused scrunch of David's nose makes Joe want to lean forward and kiss it away, but he restrains himself to simply pulling David in a little closer by his shirt and leaning into his hand.

"I'm okay, Joe." David pulls another face. "Though could we maybe get up?"

That makes Joe look at how David has balanced himself, crouched down with one hand braced on the bed beside them. It can't be comfortable, especially with how Joe has been trying to draw him forward. They should get up, maybe tumble back onto the bed, let Joe hold him there and properly rid himself of his nightmare's anxieties.

Instead, with a wicked grin, Joe braces his back on the table, twines his fingers in David's shirt, and pulls.

#oh man i`m sorry if the formatting on this is awful #one day i may write these two without beds or nightmares involved but uh. apparently not today #nathan writes #band of brothers #david webster #webgott #joe liebgott

[sicjimin]

🧱 Park of Honesty 🧱

—alternate universe 🌌 ; neighbors fic drabble 🌸 (this set off before Blossoming Room!)

TW : emeto, mpreg, self-deprecating thoughts.

"Jimin-ah, i don't feel good", Yoongi whimpers as he halts on his feet, causing the younger that was happily swaying their hands and humming, halts on his step too.

"Hyung? Are you okay? What's wrong?", Jimin asks, his body towering against the hunched male. Worry is prominent in his tone.

"I don't know", Yoongi croaked out in between his effort to catch a breath, " I feel sick"

"Oh gosh", Jimin mutters under his breath.

He's panicking.

He throws his glance around the park. It's still early for them, 7 AM on Monday. Not too many people crowding around the park as they just started their weeks, busy crowding the street and office building. His face lights up as he spots an empty bench, under a big tree that looks cozy, shielding them from the sunlight.

"Come on hyung, let's seat there. Can you walk?", Jimin asks, his arms slide into the older waist as the latter straighten his body and nods. Following Jimin's steps.

Yoongi let out a relieved sigh as he sat on the bench. He could feel cold sweats dripping inside his black shirt, dampening his faded-pink hair as well.

"Hyung", Jimin calls out, a little bit panting as if he just ran down the store near there to buy it. Yoongi didn't even realize when he's gone, "Here, drink this", he ushered a bottle of cold water in front of him, that Yoongi swatted away. He's too nauseous to gulp down anything.

"No Jimin-ah, it's fine", he weakly mutters. It took quite some effort to open his mouth, as nausea lingering in his body. Ready to morph into a vomiting session if he's not careful.

Fuck morning sickness.

Jimin looks at him worried, "Are you sure? What are you feeling?"

Yoongi shut his eyes, coughing lightly into his fist. Damn, even coughing making his stomach more queasy as it already is. He parted his mouth slightly to let him breathe easier, before answering the younger, "Queasy. Nauseous .. You name it", he mumbles. He gulps down a big dose of air before speaking again, " I think it's my morning sickness"

"Is there anything that i can help with?"

Yoongi chuckles. Jimin sounds like a kicked puppy.

"It's fine Jimin-ah, just ...", he breathes out when a wave of nausea washing him, " Stay here for a while, can we? At least until my stomach stop sloshing"

"Sure hyung. It's nice to rest here as well", Jimin hums.

His hand gently brushing Yoongi's fringe away from his forehead. Yoongi smiles at the gesture.

They sit in silence. The only sound being the occasional chirping of birds. It was kind of calming for Yoongi.

Yoongi knows that Jimin occasionally glances over him in worry. As if he didn't look at him, he gonna disappear. Yoongi bites back a chuckle. It's adorable.

" Calm down Jimin-ah, i'm not gonna disappear", Yoongi mocks as he shut his eyes, feeling a breeze of spring wind against his body.

Jimin eyes widen, blush creep up his cheeks as he grunts, "Stop riding your high horse hyung", he mumbles.

" Is it usually bad hyung?", Jimin asks, breaking the silence that seeping between them after the teasing.

"What?"

"Your morning sickness, is it usually bad?"

Yoongi snorts, grin wide on his face, "Didn't you usually hear it?"

Jimin rolls his eyes, "Not always. You make me sound like a creep", and with that, Yoongi laughs.

It feels nice.

Yoongi could feel nausea start subsided with this aimless small talk.

" No, it's not bad actually", Yoongi sighs after his laughs died down. "But i don't know, this little one seems like rebelling against me these past days"

This time, Jimin is the one that chuckles.

Silence creeping up between them again, not the awkward one, but the comfortable one.

Jimin is busy watching the little kids that running from his parents with a loaf of bread in their little hands, giggling happily toward the small pond there to feed the fish. He almost coos if he didn't hear someone gagging, and that someone being Yoongi.

His heart shoots up to his throat, as he snaps his head, finding his neighbor scrambles on his feet to the tree, hunched over as if he wants to throw up. His lips forming into a thin line as he watched his neighbor clutch onto his stomach, trying hard not to vomit. One of his hands steadying himself on the trunk.

And Jimin panics.

Jimin immediately stands up on his feet, making his way next to his neighbor.

"Are you okay Hyung?"

A weak head shakes, which followed with a harsh gag as his body pitched forward, answering Jimin's question. A groan leaving his lips, tears start gathering in his eyes as he grips into his own stomach as tight as he can. Gasping through each harsh gasp of nausea.

"Don't hold it back hyung, let it out, you will feel better after", Jimin murmurs, placing both of his palms behind Yoongi's back to support him from throwing up. He rubs soothing circles on the elder's lower back with his other palm.

Yoongi takes deep breaths, trying to calm his stomach, but resulting in the opposite ways, as his stomach clenched, pushing up warm liquid that contains his breakfast, spurting from his lips, messily covering the bush below him. He could see barely disgested rice he ate earlier, has been into on mess in there. It makes his stomach twist harder.

" Fuck ..", Yoongi moans in pain, before another heave takes over, gurgling out a bigger stream of white chunky liquid out of his mouth. Jimin watches helplessly, his fingers massaging the latter nape as his body keeps convulsing with each wave of puke that is eager to come out from his stomach.

"Uurrrkkk-", a loud retch startles Jimin. He winced as Yoongi let out more vomit, adding to the puddle on the bush that getting bigger and bigger as Yoongi keeps goes on.

Jimin felt his heart ache for his neighbor, slash, his friend now.

"Oh God... Jiminie..", Yoongi pants, voice hoarse, his body shaking, face contorted with pain, as his stomach churns more and more.

"Shhh hyung," Jimin softly hushes him, "You're doing great"

Yoongi mumbles something under his breath, before he pukes up the last round. Spitting the remnant of saliva that dangling on his lips, and sniffles, wiping his runny nose and wet lips as he straighten his body.

If Jimin could be honest, Yoongi looks adorable, with his cheeks flushed, and his hair a little bit disheveled...... Jimin shakes his head.

"Are you done hyung?"

Yoongi nods, still panting slightly as he stumbles to back to the bench and sprawled tiredly there. Jimin hands him the water again, this time Yoongi accepts it with a small thank you.

" 'm sorry .. that was gross", Yoongi mumbles shyly, blush in his cheeks deepen as he fiddles with his shirt. "Gosh, why you always had to see me like that", he mutters under his breath, intended for Jimin to not hear it, but apparently he's being quite loud.

Jimin sits beside him, rubbing the older arms soothingly, " That's fine hyung. Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah, a little bit," Yoongi mumbles, taking a sip from his bottle of water. Tiredness seeps through his bones as he tries to fight the urge to doze off.

"Want to go back?", Jimin suggests.

"...Yes please", Yoongi replies quietly.

And Jimin helps Yoongi stand up, pulling him along and let the older lean against him, his arm wrapped around the latter's waist to stabilize the older's weight. Jimin doesn't mind holding Yoongi close. In fact, he's happy.

Their walk back to their apartment building was as nice as when they walk out, except with Yoongi's morning sickness that has been triggered earlier, it's easy to set him off again.

Jimin sighs as he watches the older fumbling against his lock, his hand clamping over his mouth, holding back a gag that already urging to morph into vomit after they passed a restaurant beside their building. Apparently, the smells set his stomach into a mess again.

Jimin quickly takes over, pinching the code that he has remembered out of his head. Yoongi mumbles a small thank you as he rushing inside, not caring about Jimin that left dumbfounded outside.

Jimin huffs as he follows Yoongi's hurried steps inside. Sounds of gagging already echo through that tiny apartment. Jimin quietly standing beside the older that already gripping the sink tightly when he walk in. He could see trickles of yellow liquid covers the white porcelain.

Yoongi's shoulder rolls again with a gag as his stomach twist. The smell of that restaurant lingering on his nose.

Yoongi throws up. Again.

" Jimin-ah, i hate-uurrrkk-", Yoongi croaked out, not able to finish his sentences as water rushing to come out from his chapped lips.

"Sshhh, finish this first hyung, I know", Jimin mumbles sympathetically as he feels Yoongi's body lurch forward against his palms.

This time, it ended quicker, as Yoongi only managed to throw up the water he drank earlier at the park, and gagging for the rest of it.

" I'm so over this", Yoongi grunts as he plops his exhausted body to the couch. Closing his eyes as he let the horrible after-vomiting feeling sink into his body. His stomach is sore. And his tongue tastes bland.

He feels weak.

And he wants to cry.

He could feel his eyes burn, indicating tears starts filling his orbs. But before it could morph into a real crying, he feels someone stroking his hair.

"Hyung, here, i make you tea like before", Jimin calls out. His voice seeping calm into Yoongi's ears. Yoongi sniffles as he tries to pull himself up. He rubs his eyes, " Thank you. You don't need to", he mumbles shyly.

Guilt gnaws insides his chest.

He keeps troubling Jimin. Making him worry about him. Making him feel responsible for his well-being.

His throat tightens. And before he could prevent it, sobs wracking his body. He presses his palms against his eyes, not wanting Jimin to see him like this, like a mess, again.

"Hyung ... hey, what's wrong?", Jimin asks worriedly, gently rubbing Yoongi's back, as the elder continues to sob on top of him. Jimin holds on to him, hugging him gently, letting him sob his heart out.

It makes Yoongi feels worse.

" I- i'm s-sorry ..", Yoongi hiccups, pressing his face deeper on the younger, his sobs muffled.

" It's ok, you don't have anything to apologize for" Jimin whispers, patting Yoongi's back comfortingly, hoping to help ease the pain in his hyung's heart.

"I'm so weak. I cant take c-care of m-myself..", Yoongi goes on, " I- i keep being a b-burden for y-you", he sniffles once again, tightening his grip on Jimin even tighter.

" Hyung, listen to me" Jimin urges him, trying to lift Yoongi off of him, " Stop. Please. Look at me"

Yoongi slowly lifts his teary gaze from the younger chest. His face is ready to scrunched up with a new round of tears when he sees Jimin's shirt wet with his tears. But before he could burst, Jimin lift his chin, meeting Yoongi's black orbs with Jimin's brown one.

"You're never a burden hyung. I never think of you like that", Jimin starts. Yoongi was about to counter that when Jimin shush his lips, " And you're not weak. You're far from that. On the opposite, you're the strongest person i ever know"

Yoongi blushes.

"Like, gosh, i hate throwing up. So much. It feels horrible, right?"

Yoongi nods shyly.

"But you endure it hyung. How many times, i have lost count. And yet you never complain about it. You keep going, trying to eat little by little to keep your baby healthy even though you know you will end up throwing it back up. You're strong hyung. And you're doing this alone, i'm the one that grateful that i could find you, knocking on your door, and befriending you. So i could help you"

By the time Jimin finishes his long speech, he pants. His heart feels light after getting out what he feels for the older.

What he thoughts of Yoongi.

He deserves to hear that.

Yoongi gulps down the lump in his throat and blinks at Jimin, who's staring intently at him while wiping away the tears that fell. Yoongi just can't hold back anymore, his tears roll down on his cheeks as he sniffs loudly, burying his face in his hands, hiding the way how his eyes are starting to fill with tears.

" Thank you", Yoongi whispers softly, " I'm sorry Jimin ah... that's all i have to say"

Jimin lets out a quiet chuckle and shake his head fondly, he grabs Yoongi's hands from between his own, pulling them away from Yoongi's eyes to wipe his tears away.

"Don't be. You owe nothing on me. I'm at your service, Yoongi hyung", Jimin smiles gently at him. His words making Yoongi chuckle.

Jimin pulls him into a hug again, letting the older calm down after the rollercoaster of emotion on his chest.

" Dont leave me ..", Yoongi suddenly says after few minutes of silence. His voice mere whispers. Jimin says nothing. "I ..", Yoongi exhales shakily, hiccups still interrupting his words, " I don't want to go through this alone .. again", he mutters. The words leaving his lips almost silent. It was almost impossible to hear, but Jimin heard him loud and clear.

"You won't get rid of me hyung", Jimin says softly.

And he meant it.

" Does this mean i will get the privilege to name your baby?", Jimin teases lightly, breaking the awkward atmosphere that has settled between them. A smile creeps onto Yoongi's lips, as he looks at Jimin, chuckling. Then he shakes his head, " Dont push your luck, kid'

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!yoongi #caretaker!jimin #and again another mpreg fic

[inseongsfoxybae]

It’s gone

Pairing: Husband Inseong + Female Reader

Genre: Angst + Fluff ending

Warnings: Miscarriage, mention of bleeding, mention of sex... It’s just the saddest text I’ve ever wrote TT

Words: +4,3k

Author’s message: Hey, foxies! So, I decided to write this scenario after a bad dream I had with Inseong and I couldn’t just let this plot disappear of my mind. Also, I’m taking this writing as a sequel of 00:00, so I put the link down here. Hope you enjoy it *and cry*. Foxy kisses 😘

P.S: As english is not my mother language, it may contain misspelled. Also, sorry for any other mistakes :)

Part 1 - 00:00

this pic breaks my heart 😭

You and Inseong can't be more happy with your life. You love each other more than anything, both of your parents are always by your side, your baby is healthy and your four-months tummy is getting bigger so beautifully. 

You woke up especially clingy that saturday and everything led to a lazy morning sex, Inseong carefully taking you from behind while spooning you. After both of you came and shared some cuddles and kisses in bed, you took a bath together, softly making out in the bathtub as Inseong played with your little round tummy. 

"Let's have breakfast now. I need to feed my little baby" - he kissed your stomach - "and my big baby", he kissed your lips, while you smiled lovingly at him. You ate pancakes and fruits, playing around while feeding each other. Yes, you were the perfect definition of a cheesy couple and you loved that. 

You'd have dinner with Inseong's parents that night. However, you still have the rest of the morning and the whole afternoon just for yourselves. 

But you felt sick after breakfast and ran to the bathroom to vomit. "Morning sick again?", Inseong approached you and rubbed your back while you put out all the food in the toilet. "Yes, I thought it's already done, but it seems I was wrong", you said weakly. 

"It's okay, it's okay", Inseong reassured you. "Let's take some rest, huh?", he suggested and you nod. He helped you to get up and wash your mouth and carried you to bed, where he laid you as he moved closer to your stomach. 

"Hey, mini us, it's dad. Let's take it easy with mommy, hum? She's doing her best to take care of you, so we have to treat her well too, okay?", Inseong said softly, rubbing the warm skin of your firm tummy before slowly kissing it. You smiled sweetly at him while your fingers ran through his hair. 

He grinned back and whispered a "I love you" when you pulled him to lay with you. "I love you too, Seongie", you answered and pecked his lips. Inseong snuggled closer into your body, holding you against his broad chest as one of his hands massaged your hair and the other one caressed your belly. 

"Can't wait for tuesday to come, so we'll know the gender of our baby", Inseong said with a bright smile gracing his face. "I know, right? I'm so excited to choose a name for her or him!", you exclaimed happily. "Love, what do you think it will be?", you continued. "I have no idea, but I hope it's a girl. I want to see a mini you running through the house", he giggled. "But a boy would be nice too. He could protect his little sister later", he completed and looked at you. 

"Yeah, and a mini you would make me company during your schedules", you laughed pinching his nose. "But something tells me it's a girl", you confessed and smiled, placing your hand over his on your stomach. "Doesn't matter the gender, she or he will be our precious baby", his smile was so sweet and sincere before his lips started to plant soft kisses all over your face, making you giggle and melt between his arms. 

When he stopped his kiss attack, you cupped his cheeks and looked deep into his eyes. "Thank you, honey, for making me the happiest woman, for planting a baby inside me, for loving me so much", your voice shook as tears formed in your eyes. "You're my universe, darling. And our little one here is our first star", Inseong murmured against your lips pressing your foreheads together. 

You stayed in silence for a while, just hearing each other's breath and heartbeat, feeling the warmth of your bodies, just the three of you. "Baby", you broke the silence and looked at him, "will you be there with me during delivery?", you asked while your lips formed a little pout, that Inseong kissed away before answering. "Of course I will, so you'll be able to hold my hand tight until it breaks and pull my hair until I go bald", his answer made the two of you laugh. 

"Seriously, babe. I'll be there with you, right by your side, holding your hand and caressing your head and your back, until our baby is in your arms". This time, his words hitted straight on your heart and he hugged you tighter when he saw you were about to cry, firmly kissing the top of your head. "Don't cry, baby", he pleaded into your ear. "Blame the hormones", you whined against his neck. "Okay… It's okay", he chuckled, rocking you side to side. 

"Y/N, do you want me to cook your favorite food?", Inseong asked after you calmed down from your comotion. "No, I'm still sick and can't think of food right now", you whimpered. "But you need to eat to be strong and healthy, princess", he insisted, trying to pull you off the bed with him. "But I can't do this right now", you whined laying on top of him, burying your face on his chest. 

Inseong gave up on cooking, but was still making you eat something, so he reached for his phone and ordered your favorite dishes without you noticing. About half an hour later, your doorbell rang and you looked suspicious at Inseong. "Lunch time", he exclaimed, carefully taking you off his chest. 

He grabbed the food and placed it on the kitchen table, before walking to you who was reluctantly watching him leaning against the wall. "Inseong, I don't want to", you pouted as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him. "Please, Y/N. Just try it, just a little, huh? For our baby", he pleaded and looked down at your tummy, your gaze following his. "Okay", you whispered and let him drag you into the kitchen. 

Inseong plated the food and handed you your portion, for which you observed feeling your stomach churn. Your eyes met his, looking for some ground before taking the first spoon of rice into your mouth. “Just a little more”, Inseong encouraged you, squeezing your free hand over the table. You were struggling to chew and swallow, but persisted in eating as much as you could, before the food came back up your throat and you rushed to the bathroom to throw it up. 

Your husband sighed defeatedly on his chair, looked down at his own untouched plate before getting up and cleaned the table so as not to make your condition worse. Then, he walked into the bathroom where you were hanging on the sink to wash your mouth and sweaty face. Inseong got closer and hugged from behind, you leaned back into his chest as your legs were a little weak and you felt dizzy. 

“You’re not keeping anything inside today, right?”, he wondered, not exactly waiting for an answer, but you still shook your head. “Are you feeling anything else?”, he softly mumbled, kissing your shoulder. “Just some cramping, but it’s not a big deal”. Inseong looked at you through the mirror, his expression full of concern. “I’ll call my mom and cancel the dinner tonight”, he said after a moment. “No, honey, we have to go. It’s been a while since we had dinner with your parents”, you protested. “Y/N, you need to rest. They will understand. And if something happens to you because of this dinner, I’ll never forgive myself”, he confessed under his breath and held you tighter. 

You turned around in his arms to face him and embraced his neck, pulling him closer. “I’m okay, Inseong. I’m pregnant, not ill. And I’ll go to rest, I’m gonna take a nap now and I’ll be much better when I wake up”, you said trying to calm him down, but he was not convinced yet. “Baby, please. Don’t worry too much. Just pregnancy things. I’m okay”, you insisted and he nodded, hugging you tighter but carefully, as you played with the hair on the back of his neck. 

"Go to eat. I'll wait for you on the couch", you softly said breaking your embrace. 

“Go to bed, it’s more comfortable”. 

“Inseong, what did I just say to you? I’m okay”, you sulked. “And we can watch a movie before taking a nap. What do you think?”, you looked at him with your best puppy eyes and he gave in. “Okay”.

When Inseong finished eating and joined you on the couch, you were already soundly sleeping. He chuckled softly and spooned you, pressing sweet kisses on your exposed shoulder, quickly dozing off as well.

Both of you slept deeply for some hours into the afternoon, lost in each other’s embrace, molded bodies. It was already getting dark when you opened your eyes and found yourself cradled between Inseong’s loose arms. Your mouth curled up a little, but the pain on your low stomach limited your joy. Your cramps got worse over the hours, just like your nausea. 

Inseong felt you moving and woke up, bringing you closer to him. “Did my babies rest well?”, he mumbled softly, pecking the side of your neck. You smiled and turned slowly into his arms to kiss him properly, his hands rubbing your back under your shirt. “Are you feeling better now?”, he asked when you broke the kiss and you shyly shook your head negatively. 

“Baby, let’s cancel this dinner”, Inseong tried to convince you one more time and you said no again. “I’m okay, darling. Let’s take a shower and get ready. We have to leave soon”, you insisted and he stared at you for a while, trying to get any glimpse of how bad you were feeling. “Please… Let’s go”, you whispered one last time as he nodded, helping you to get up. 

You took a quick shower together and got dressed, but you were feeling so sick that you didn't have the mind to put on any makeup. "It's okay, baby. You're beautiful anyways", Inseong whispered into your ear, trying to smile even if his concerned eyes weren't happy at all. 

You gave him a weak smile and left your room while he finished to get dressed. You stared at that door in front of yours for a while, your baby's bedroom, and felt an urge to enter it to analyze the few furniture in there. A white crib was placed on a corner, near the window, with a stuffed fox Inseong had bought after your first appointment resting inside. 

You smiled as you got closer to the crib and took the plushie in your hands, rubbing its soft fur. You heard a knock at the door and turned to see Inseong standing there, looking lovely at you. "What are you doing?", he mumbled, approaching and pulling you into his chest. "Nothing. I just wanted to be here for a moment", you answered, playing with the little fox still in your hands.  

"Are you sure you're fine?", Inseong looked deep into your eyes, and you nodded. "We'll be okay", you whispered softly, placing a hand on your belly as Inseong gently pecked your forehead. “Let’s go”, he took your hand and you left. 

You stared at the three icicles in his bracelet while he drove, imagining how it will be when you have your child in your arms. You opened a little smile through the pain that was getting stronger at each moment, feeling weaker and weaker. Maybe you should have stayed at home, but you knew it wouldn't make much difference now, so you tried to ignore your sickness the best you could.

"Sweetie, you’re so pale”, it was the first thing Inseong’s mother said when she laid her eyes on you. “Are you feeling bad?”, she asked, helping you to sit. “I just have nausea and cramps, but I’m okay”, you quickly answered, trying not to focus on how bad you were feeling. Your mother-in-law looked from his husband to Inseong, concerned expressions filling the table. 

“Please, don’t worry too much. I’m gonna be fine”, you reassured them as they sat down and ordered the food. The mood was a little tense among you, mainly when your dishes came and you didn't take a single bite of your food, staring at your plate disgusted. Your cramps were so terrible now that you shifted constantly on your chair, your head heavy and spinning. 

“Baby, let’s go home”, Inseong murmured very close to your ear and you realized your eyes were shut and you were grabbing your fork with too much force. “You can finish eating first. I can handle this”, your answer was just above a whisper as you struggle to control your weak body. 

Suddenly, an excruciating wave of pain tore your belly and you reached out for Inseong’s arm as you cringed in agony. “Inseong…”, it was the last thing you managed to whisper before your vision got dark and your mind went out. 

Inseong caught you, but didn't understand what was going on until he saw blood soaking your white dress. "Oh no, baby… No, no, no… Please, no", he kept repeating desperately, taking you into his arms and rushing to the car. 

While his father drove fast through the streets towards the hospital, Inseong sat on the back seat, holding your weak body against his, repeating "please’s" and "no’s" like a mantra, his crying filling the car while he watched the stain of blood getting bigger on your dress and tarnishing his own trousers. 

As your mother-in-law had called your doctor while you were on the way, when you arrived at the hospital, she was already waiting for you. Inseong carefully laid you on the stretcher and some nurses took you to a room. He was shaking and sobbing as he watched you being taken along the white corridors, knowing that something wrong was happening with you and your baby and he couldn’t do anything to help.

Some minutes later, a nurse appeared to tell your family about your state, your husband quickly walking to her. “She had a miscarriage and now the doctor is removing the fetus. I’m so sorry for your loss”, she said cautiously, an empathetic expression on her face.

Inseong’s legs lost their strength and he fell on his knees, sinking in despair. His mother hugged him tight and his father helped him to get up, leading him to the nearest chair, his cries echoing throughout the empty corridors. “Calm down, son. We have to be strong for her now”, Inseong’s dad comforted him, but his eyes were full of tears too. 

It took an eternity for the doctor to leave the operation room and show up to talk to Inseong. His head was resting on his mother’s shoulder, holding hands with his father, sobbing softly now as tears couldn’t stop rolling over his face. Your doctor watched that scene for a brief moment, her heart aching to see both of you suffering like this. 

She knew how passionate you were for each other and how much you wanted this baby. She felt your love every time the two of you entered her clinic for your monthly appointment, Inseong always by your side with a huge smile on his face. But now you ended up like this and she didn’t even know how to tell Inseong the details of your state. 

Your doctor slowly approached those three miserable people waiting in the corridor. “Mr. Kim Inseong,”, she called softly, “can we talk in my office for a moment? You can see your wife right after”. But Inseong didn’t move, only whispered a weak “It’s my fault”. 

“Inseong-ah, it’s not your fault. Come on, get up and talk to the doctor. We’re gonna go home and back with clean clothes for you”, his mother said, cupping his cheeks. Inseong looked down at his jeans soiled with blood - your blood, your baby’s blood. It made him cry even more.

“She will be okay. You can try again in a few months”, the doctor said, taking his hands on hers, trying to calm him down. “Let’s talk in my office. I have some things to tell you”. Inseong struggled to get up and follow her, fearing what he would have to hear. 

Inseong sat down in front of the doctor, her table between them, but he wasn’t able to face her. “It’s all my fault… We had sex this morning… That's why, isn't it? I hurt Y/N and made her lose our baby?”, he whispered, choking on his own tears, his heavy body weighing a ton. 

“No. It’s not your fault, nor hers”, your doctor calmly said. “It wasn’t because of sex or any other activity you did. It was her organism that rejected the fetus. Her immune system detected it as an intruder and expelled it”, she explained, trying to find easy words to say. 

Seeing that Inseong didn’t react, she continued. “We did a washing in her uterus and it didn’t suffer any trauma, so you can try again in two months”, she paused, gaining courage to tell her next words. “Also... we detected the gender of the baby”, she stopped, carefully waiting for his reaction. 

“It was a girl, right?”, Inseong mumbled, still staring at the floor. 

“Yes. I’m so sorry, Inseong”, her final words were sincere, watching your husband sobbing helplessly in front of her eyes. 

~

You woke up hours later, in the middle of the night. You slowly opened your eyes, understanding where you were. Inseong was sitting on a chair by your side, holding your hand, his eyes puffy and red from crying. “Hey”, he weakly said when he saw you awake, giving you a sorrowful smile. 

“What happened?”, you asked looking deep into his eyes, your free hand resting on your now flat belly. Feeling the difference and a slight pain on your low stomach, your heart sunk in your chest. “Inseong… what happened to our baby?”, your shaking voice came as a broken whisper. 

“Our baby is gone”, Inseong struggled to tell you after a couple of seconds trying to hold his own despair. “We lost her, Y/N”. 

His words broke your heart in a million pieces and your eyes exploded in a whirlwind of desperate tears. Inseong sat down on your bed and pulled you into his body, your cryings filling the room and echoing through the silent corridors. All the pain of not being able to keep your baby crushing both of you. 

You kept crying until exhaustion invades your body and you fall asleep in Inseong’s arms. Obviously, he couldn't close his eyes that night, still blaming himself for your miscarriage and worried if you feel some pain - dark bags under his eyes in the morning. 

You were discharged in the afternoon and your parents-in-law took both of you home, Inseong holding you against him in the back-seat, a heavy silence filling the air. When you arrived, you changed clothes and went to bed to take a rest, your husband laying with you until you fall asleep. No words exchanged, no small smiles; only guilty eyes and a heavy feeling suffocating the two of you. 

~

The sun was already gone when you opened your eyes. You didn’t feel any pain, at least not physically, because your heart was broken and now your body carried the emptiness of your baby not being anymore. And all of that was much more painful than anything else. 

Your shaking hands reached for your belly, feeling nothing where there was a life before, tears slowly falling from your eyes while your body curled up into your sheets. Inseong wasn’t by your side anymore. Actually, you were on his side of the bed, his pillow smelling faintly like him. 

You got up and left your bedroom to look for him, stopping when you saw the door of your baby’s room ajar and low sobs escaping from its dark inside. You carefully opened the door and turned on the lights, only to find the miserable state of your husband sitting on the floor at the foot of the crib, the plushie fox in his hands, his bracelet hanging from his fingers. 

Inseong didn’t lift his face, didn’t look at you, didn’t say anything, just held his breath in a failed attempt to stop his sobs. Your heart ached for seeing him like this.

“Oh, baby”, you sighed, feet taking small steps towards him, kneeling in front of him and placing your hands on his shaking shoulders. “Inseong”, you called him, but no responde. “Baby, please, look at me”, you begged, crying, but he only shook his head and leaned down to rest his head on your chest. 

“That’s all my fault”, he sobbed, not being able to hold himself anymore. “I’m so sorry, Y/N”, Inseong cried desperately in your arms as his heavy body relaxed against yours. You couldn’t speak, your voice choked in your throat as uncontrollable tears ran down your cheeks. 

You wrapped your arms around Inseong’s neck, pulling him closer to your chest, trembled fingers carded to his hair, his hands still holding the plushie. 

“I’m sorry for being like this, darling, so weak, so fragile”, he managed to murmur against you, his arms struggling to hug you. “I’m sorry for not taking care of you properly”, he sobbed, grabbing his shirt you were wearing with all this remaining strength. “I’m sorry”, he sank into your body, shaking hard, destroyed. 

His desperate cries made the pieces of your heart ignited, and a painful wave of despair took your whole being, your own sobs mixing with his. Your body curved over his, weak, strengthless, hurt. 

“It’s not your fault”, you quickly whispered against his shoulder, “It’s mine”, you broke down, tugging in his shirt like it could save you. 

Inseong gently released your arms from around him and brought you closer to him, caging you in his chest, that warm place that always makes you feel better. But it was different this time: his usual calm heart was now as broken as yours, trying to collect some hope from you, trying to comfort itself through you. 

Your legs were over one of his as you sat between his long limbs, your arms resting weakly on his stomach as your head were buried on his chest. Neither of you couldn’t say any more, only cry and take deep breaths. Inseong calmed down before, but stayed quiet, giving you time to relieve yourself while he ran his hands through your hair and back. 

“Inseong”, you barely whispered, “I’m sorry for not being able to keep our baby”, you choked your last words. 

Inseong squeezed you tighter, placing a slow kiss on your temple. “None of this is your fault, babe”, he tried to reassure you. “We just… just…”, he couldn’t complete his sentence as his tears got stronger again.

You leaned back from his chest to look at him, his hands gently cupping your face, caressing your wet cheeks as you took a deep breath before talking. “Until yesterday, I was pregnant, Inseong”, you paused. “Now there’s nothing here inside”, you sobbed, touching your belly. “Our daughter is dead, Inseong”, you broke down once more, grabbing his shoulders for some ground. 

Inseong didn’t know what to speak, didn’t know what to do, struggling to not break himself in tears again, pulling you even closer and tighter against him, desperately trying to comfort you with these gestures. 

After some minutes, when your cries stabilized, he caged you in his arms, grabbing the fox plushie on the way, and took you to your bed. Inseong cuddled you tight, holding you like he wanted to merge your bodies, protecting you from anything that could harm you. 

“Baby”, he softly called you, “it’s okay now. I’m here with you”, he told you. 

You sighed against his chest, trying to regain forces to speak. “Inseong… Do you still love me? I mean, am I still the love of your life?”, your voice cracked with every word. 

“Honey, of course I still love you”, Inseong firmly kissed the top of your head. “You’re my everything, my wife, my woman, the only one I love and will ever love”, he reassured you and you felt sincerity in his words and in his heartbeat under your ear.

“Please, stay with me”, you begged, moving to look at his face.

“I’m not going anywhere”, he mumbled, kissing your forehead. “I’ll stay by your side until my last breath”, he confessed, leaning down a little to place a soft peck on your lips.

“We will overcome this, okay? We can do anything since we are together”, Inseong consoled you, tugging some strands of hair behind your ear. “We can try again very soon and I’m sure we’ll have a bunch of healthy kids playing around the house”, he said, giving you a small smile. 

You slightly chuckled at his words. “Oh, you’re laughing”, Inseong gave you a cute grin, brushing his nose against yours. “We shouldn’t blame ourselves anymore, promise?”. 

“I promise”, you whispered and you both smiled. You watched attentively when Inseong moved one of his arms behind him and reached for the plushie, bringing it to you. 

“Hey, mommy and daddy, be strong, right? Give me brothers and sisters soon. I love you”, Inseong mimicked a cute funny voice, making you laugh. He pressed the little nose of the fox all over your face multiple times, as it was kissing you, just before he moved the toy away to use his own lips.

“I love you, Seongie, so, so much”, you whispered against his lips, eyes closed, feeling him grinning into the kiss. 

“I love you more, my love”, he murmured, deepening the movements of your lips together. 

It was still hard to accept and painful, but you had each other and had dreams and hopes together, and that’s all that matters. You were sure you’d still make a beautiful family in the future, full of mini Inseongs and mini Y/Ns, and you were willing to achieve all of this pure happiness soon with Inseong by your side, always taking care of you, supporting you, comforting you. You’d be strong for him and for your beautiful love until your last breath. 

~

Part 3 - Try again

#kpop writings #sf9 writings #sf9 scenarios #sf9 angst #sf9 inseong #sf9 imagines #our journey stories

[nashibirne]

Safe Haven 9 + 10

A Maze Runner Fan Fiction

Pairing: Thomas / female OFC Setting: After the end of ‘TMR - Death Cure’ Summary: Thomas is dealing with the aftermath of the events since the glade and learns that falling in love can be painful. In parts 9 and 10 we learn why Kasey doesn't think Thomas is right for her and and someone returns... Warnings:  smut/sex/porn (in some chapters), swearing, mentioning of death, traumatic experiences, violence, sexual frustration, promiscuity, homosexuality, 18+ readers only Credits: TMR-Characters don’t belong to me / are based on the books by James Dashner and the movies. All pictures I used for the moodboards/headers are from pinterest. Face claims: Blake Lively, Parker Hurley, Lupita Nyong'o, Taylor Momsen. If I violate any copyright please let me know and I’m going to remove the pictures. Beta by the wonderful  @hell1129-blog​  Thanks for your support! xo

Comments, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated.

9

When Kasey was lying in her bed that night she was so confused it made her feel dizzy. She just couldn't stop thinking about Thomas. Not only after tonight. It had been like this for weeks now - every single night. Since the night he'd made her omelet and Cupid's arrow had aimed for her heart.

After meeting him for the first time at the beach she had considered him to be nothing but a himbo. A handsome face and a lame brain. But she'd soon realized he was so much more. A smart guy, very mature for his age, sensitive, caring and loyal to a fault. He had this very thoughtful, emotional, brooding side, still hurting from all the tough shit that had happened to him, but he also was a flirt, funny and full of ideas, making Kasey laugh all the time with his silly jokes and stories. And they shared not only their sense of humor but the view on life, having the same values, the same visions. It took him only a few days to conquer her heart by storm and to make her realize that she was seriously in love with him.

It wasn't the first time since Cole had died, that she felt something for another man. There had been a little flirt going on with Parker for a few weeks before their missions had started. It had been close to getting physical but being the responsible and sensible man he just was, Parker wanted them to wait before dating and going further than flirting till they both were back safe and sound. But she didn't think about dating Parker anymore, she only wanted to be with Thomas. At least till the day she had an enlightening conversation with Sam. Sam was in her early twenties, a very pretty woman with a breathtakingly curvy body, part of the nursing team and not really a friend but someone Kasey liked to be around and to have a little chat with.

"So you work with Thomas now, don't you?" Sam asked her one day, when they were doing their laundry in the laundry shack. 

"Yes, I do. He helps me with the library."

"Lucky you."

"Umm...yes. He's nice." 

"Nice? He's hot. And he's a good fuck."

"Excuse me?" Kasey said, her eyebrows shooting up. 

Sam laughed. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to shock you, but he is." she gave her a wink. "I mean just in case you're in need of something physical, he's your guy. He's easy to have and he won't be a pain in the ass afterwards."

"Really?" Kasey said, feeling very uncomfortable about the direction this conversation was taking.

"Yeah. No strings attached. Never. He doesn't do relationships."

"Oh." was all she was able to say.

"Yeah. Got his heart broken when his girlfriend died, poor boy." 

"Teresa?"

"Yeah, I think so. He was with Anne for a few weeks after he came here. She was his first...you know what I mean..." Sam smirked. "But Anne ditched him because she found him boring and since then he's just screwing around. Flirting like crazy and jumping anything with a heartbeat and boobs. Has broken a few hearts but it was the bitches own fault. He never promises anything but one night of good fun."

"And you? Did you sleep with him?" 

"Yes, and it was great. He knows how to satisfy a woman. Lasts very long. Great package too. You should give it a try, Kay." 

"Nah..." Kasey said, nausea rising in her stomach. "Not interested."

"Still waiting for Parker to return?"

"Yeah, something like that." Kasey mumbled, feeling her hopes crumble to dust.

That was the day she'd buried her feelings for Thomas deep inside her heart, locking them in and throwing away the key, refusing to think of him as more than a friend anymore. She didn't change her behaviour towards him, not wanting him to realize something was different. It wasn't his fault that she was stupid enough to fall in love with a man his friends called Casanova.

By day her self-deceit worked just fine but by night her body betrayed her. The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak and so almost every night after a lot of tossing and turning, her thoughts circling around him, she had those very steamy dreams.  From secretly watching Thomas jerk off in the shower or getting eaten out by him at the beach under a sky full of stars to getting fucked by him hard from behind, bent over a table in the library....all this and more they did in her dreams and it left her so horny in the morning it almost physically hurt. 

But she still managed to pretend she was getting over him. At least till he'd kissed her, till she'd kissed him back. Feeling him so close, his lips on hers, their tongues touching, his hands on her skin...it had brought it all back and there was no point in denying it anymore. She loved him.

10

The next morning, when Thomas entered the library for work he was a nervous wreck. Thinking about the conversation he was going to have with Kasey scared the fuck out of him.

She was already there, going through a pile of books, looking tired. Thomas assumed she'd got as much sleep as he did last night, meaning almost none.

"Good morning." he said with a shy smile.

"Good morning." she answered, avoiding his gaze. "How are you?"

"Well...to be honest...not so good..."

"Of course. I'm sorry." Kasey looked down on her shoes, kicking invisible little stones away.

"So we better start working, huh? There's a lot to do." she turned around, concentrating on the books again.

"Kasey..." Thomas stepped closer, touching her shoulder to make her look at him. "We need to talk about last night, don't you think?"

She turned around, facing him, looking him in the eyes for a short moment. 

"I said all I had to say last night, Tommy." her voice was weak.

"But I didn't." He swallowed heavily before clearing his throat. Standing so close to her didn't help so he took a little step back, giving her some space. She immediately crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively.

"Kay! Tommy!" they suddenly heard Vince shouting before he came storming into the hut.

"Guys...quick...to the beach." he said, leaning against the door frame out of breath. "They're back!"

"What? Vince, what are you talking about?" Kasey asked dumbfounded.

"It's Parker, hon. Parker's coming home."

Fuck, was all Thomas could think.

Jogging down the way to the beach they heard the ship tooting it's horn several times before even seeing it. When they arrived, half the camp was already gathered on the shore, cheering and waving. Vince and Kasey went down to the beach where Marjorie, Quincy and even Carson were waiting for them. Joe was standing in the water knees deep, awaiting the dink with Parker and his crew in it. Thomas joined his friends who were standing on a little dune to have a good view on the spectacle.

Minho grabbed him by the arm, dragging him right beside him. "And?" he whispered. "Did you talk to her?" Thomas just shook his head, frustration clearly written all over his face. "Shit." Minho said. "Yeah...we were interrupted by Vince..." 

"Hey guys, you miss the show." Gally pointed at the beach. "Here comes the man of the hour." 

Thomas turned around, watching the guy who had to be Parker Higgins jump off the little boat hugging Joe tightly. Wading ashore he was all smiles, waving at the cheering crowd. He embraced all of his friends one after another and when it was Kasey's turn, for a terribly long moment Thomas thought he was going to kiss her, but to his big relief he just hugged her as warmly as the others, although pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Wow...look at him. What a snack." Harriet, a very pretty brunette with long dreadlocks said with a smirk. She and Sonja were Aris' best friends, watching over him with vigilance like big sisters. "Snack? He's the whole damn meal! What a hottie." Sonja raised one eyebrow, licking her lips.

"Oh come on, girls. He's not that handsome." Thomas groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, he is." Brenda answered back dryly.

"What the fuck, baby. Are you kidding me?" Frypan stared at his girlfriend flabbergasted.

"Sorry, babe. Of course not as handsome as you." Brenda cooed, kissing him on the lips. Frypan smiled, returning the kiss with feverish passion, causing Jorge to frown and Aris to nudge them. "Guys...get a room." he laughed and everybody but Thomas joined in.

Down at the beach Kasey still couldn't believe Parker was back. But there he was, in all his greek-god-like perfection, wearing nothing but cargo shorts, hanging low on his hips, showing off his v-muscles. His toned body was suntanned, his wavy wheat-blonde hair a sexy mess, his handsome face beaming with happiness.

"So, how's everybody doing?" he asked, not even waiting for an answer before dragging his friends into a group hug. "God, I missed you guys so much."

"We missed you too, Higgins." Marjorie said smiling. "We almost started to think you cleared out, living on a lonely hidden island with your little harem now." she added with a smirk, nodding at his all-female crew, Janine, Cara and Sloane, three of the strongest and toughest women, Kasey had ever met.

Sloane started laughing. "Fuck, Marge. You know even Parker isn't man enough to keep us satisfied all on his own."

"Hey! You better not challenge me." Parker grinned, turning to Vince then. "So we're gonna need some help with unloading the ship, we have tons of stuff on the old lady."

"You should have sent me a radio message, Parker." Vince said with a frown. "We're not really prepared for your return."

"Oh come on, man. You know I love a big entrance." his charming smile was disarming. 

"Sure." Vince laughed. "We'll find a solution. But first let me introduce you to the WCKD kids."

"Aren't they all WCKD kids?" Parker asked, spreading his arms, turning around to all the spectators behind them.

"I'm talking about Thomas and his friends."

Vince scanned the beach, searching for them. "There they are. Let's go meet them."

***

"They're coming our way." Sonja said, adjusting her clothes and her long blonde hair quickly, a determined look on her sweet face. "He's mine, sisters."

"You better stop drooling, sweetie. I'm sorry, but there are rumours going round that Parker and Kasey are a thing." Harriet asked to consider.

"They're not." Thomas threw in, his voice surprisingly sharp.

"How do you of all people know that?" Harriet wanted to know.

Thomas just shrugged, trying to play it off, knowing his jealousy would be showing if he said another word.

He was saved by Joe who was calling them.

"Come down here guys, we wanna introduce you."

They climbed down the dune gathering around Joe and the others.

"Hi, I'm Parker." Parker introduced himself, a million dollar smile on his attractive face and Thomas felt the urgent need to punch him on his perfect nose.

"And here we have my badass crew: Sloane, Cara and Janine." The three women waved in unison, greeting them with a short nod.

Minho nudged Thomas discreetly to make him introduce their group too. He took a step forward, clearing his throat. 

"Good to meet you guys." he said, managing to fake a smile. "My name's Thomas and these are my friends Minho, Gally, Frypan, Brenda, Jorge, Aris, Harriet and Sonja."

They exchanged their hellos and did some smalltalk about how the mission had been and how things were going in the camp. Thomas let the others carry on and stepped back trying to get a little closer to Kasey who was standing besides Quincy, unusually quiet.

She noticed him and gave him a sheepish smile. "You okay?" Thomas mouthed, trying not to interrupt the current conversation between Cara and Carson who were talking shop about something Thomas not even roughly understood. 

She nodded, her smile genuine now, which helped Thomas relax immediately. "You?" she mouthed back. He gave her a "thumb to the side", wiggling his hand indecisively, nodding in Parker's direction, mimicking his thousand-watt-smile which made Kasey laugh and Thomas' heart skip a beat.

"So what are we gonna do about the cargo now." Vince's full dark voice interrupted the lively chit-chat.

"My team can help unload." Gally said.

"Mine too." That was Minho.

"My team can take care of the transport from the beach to the storehouse." Jorge offered.

"I'm gonna take care you're not gonna starve." Fry said with a big grin.

"My team wants to help too." Kasey said. "It's just Thomas and me but we can carry things around and lend a hand when needed."

"Wait..." Parker said, a mischievous smile on his lips. "You really found someone who's as crazy about books as you? So you and kiddo are team bookworm now, princess?" he placed an arm around her shoulder, dragging her into a side hug which made her blush. Princess? Kiddo? Thomas thought, feeling anger rise in his chest. What the fuck... asshole. 

"Fuck you, Parker." Kasey said laughing, slapping him on the arm.

He leaned in close to her, whispering in her ear. "I'd rather let you do this, Kay."  Unfortunately he whispered not quietly enough to conceal his words from Thomas who was standing right beside them, almost dying from jealousy.

"Are you done flirting now, man?" Joe interrupted them, obviously a little annoyed. "We have a job to do."

"Sure." Parker said, giving Kasey one last wink.

On their lunch break after a morning full of hard work they all sat at the beach together, enjoying Frypan's delicious chili and freshly-baked bread. Thomas was sitting with his friends but he kept on looking at Kasey, giving her little smiles, that she returned. A funny wordless dialogue unfolded between them, just composed of glances, winks, gestures and facial expressions, brightening up her day and once again it became clear to her, why she loved this man so much. The thought caused a stinging pain in her chest, reminding her of the fact that she couldn't have him. Wouldn't have him. For reasons she couldn't really remember in moments like this, when he confused her brain with all his adorable dorky perfection.

"Mind if I join you?" Parker didn't wait for an answer before sitting down next to Kasey, ending her little telepathic conversation with Thomas. He looked tired and exhausted, although Kasey knew he would never admit it. He took a bite of a big piece of bread and a sip of water before turning to her. "It's good to see you again, Kay. I really missed you." His smile was genuine and warm.

"We missed you too, Parker. You and the girls. I'm happy you made it back in one piece."

"Well, I owe you a date, so I had a very good motivation to stay alive." he looked her in the eyes, his smirk flirtatious now. "And I really hope you missed me a little more than the rest of my crew." 

"Yes, of course." 

"Good." Parker gave her one of these winks that used to do things to her, that used to make her want him badly, but on this morning it was nothing more than a wink. A wink she returned without feeling it.

"Joe said you're making good progress with the library. You and that boy...what's his name again?"

"The name's Thomas and he's not a boy, Parker." Kasey said with a frown. 

"He's not really a man either, is he? More like a pup." Parker teased her with a grin.

"Well, he was man enough to survive the maze trials, the scorch and the breakdown of the last city. Not to mention that he freed Minho from the WCKD headquarters." Kasey snapped.  

"All right, all right,Kay...no need to get mad at me, I'm just teasing you." he raised his hands defensively, a surprised frown on his face.

"Yeah...sure. Sorry. I didn't mean to snap, Parks. It's just...Tommy's been through a lot, he's anything but a greenhorn and he deserves some respect."

"Ok, I'll remember that, princess. I promise."

He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, making her laugh.

"So about that date..." Parker said looking at her expectantly.

"Right...." Kasey replied hesitantly, clearing her throat. She knew she owed him at least one dinner to tell him that things had changed over the last few weeks. That she didn't feel the way about him, she'd felt 9 months ago. That she wouldn't date him.

"I think lunch break's over." Parker interrupted her thoughts, looking around, noticing everybody was about to return to work. "Why don't you come over to my place tonight? Let's have dinner together and talk unhurriedly. Let's call it our first date. What do you think?"

"Sure. I'll be there." Kasey answered, feeling her heart sink.

When Thomas made his next try to talk to her alone later this afternoon, he found Kasey at the beach with the dink, fumbling on a thick rope she was trying to untangle, lost in thought. It was the first time since hours that they weren't surrounded by dozens of people and so Thomas took his courage in both hands and approached her.

"Hey Kasey." 

"Thomas." she hardly managed to smile.

"What's up? You look downcast."

"No, I'm fine...just untangling this fucking rope." she said, throwing it away angrily.

Thomas caught it, starting to unravel it without problems. He handed it back to her, cocking his head, knowing exactly that something was off but he didn't want to pry.

"Thanks, Tommy." She looked at him and there was something in her eyes he couldn't quite read. 

"Listen, Kay. About last night, there's something I need to tell you."

"Yes?"

"Yes." he cleared his throat. "I should have told you last night, but when Quincy joined us..."

"Speaking of which..." Kasey interrupted him, pointing to the dunes where Quincy was coming down the path together with Joe and Carson.

Thomas took a deep breath, trying not to curse.

"Well, maybe this is bad timing. Why don't we meet at the library to talk later? When we're done here."

" I'm sorry, Timber, but I can't. Parker's invited me over for dinner...." she pressed her lips together, looking at him remorsefully. "I see..." he answered flatly, not even trying to hide his disappointment.

#tmr #tmr fan fiction #tmr thomas #tmr thomas x ofc #maze runner #maze runner thomas

[fire-the-headcanons]

Follow the Beacon Qrow—Thundersnow

[Link to Masterpost]

[Apparently I didn’t post the last few chapters on Tumblr? Use the masterpost to make sure you don’t miss anything]

[tw for sexual assault mention]

They all knew—everyone knew he was weak, that he wouldn't fight back—the crowd pressed in and he recoiled, curling away—one of them grabbed his arm and he choked back a scream—

"Qrow, Qrow, it's me, it's okay, it's me," Summer's voice cracked as the hand tightened and he dared to look out through his arms. Tears trickled across her cheeks as she stared down at him, wide-eyed.

Summer… Summer wouldn't hurt him.

"H-help."

"Okay. Okay, let's get out of here." She eased him back to his feet and the crowd let them through easily.

Gods, he wanted to throw up.

The main doors were at the other end of the hall, and she guided him into the shadow of the arch leading out to the balcony. "Are you okay?" she rasped, sitting next to him on the stone bench.

He really didn't want to open his mouth.

She wiped at her face, smearing the dark makeup on her cheek and hand. "I don't—I don't know how he could do that!"

His stomach rebelled and he pressed his hands against his mouth, fighting for control.

"What's—how do I help?"

Qrow leaned on her shoulder, the way she leaned on his when they both had nightmares, and she let go of his arm to pull him into a hug. When she didn't pull away, he held her back and waited for his stomach to stop churning and lungs to start working again.

"Do you need to go to the hospital?"

What good would that do? He shook his head.

"…Qrow… where you were… before… did someone ever…?"

He shook his head before she could finish. "N-not me. Or Raven."

"…But… others."

"I d-don't want to think about it."

Summer nodded and released him, standing before offering her hand with a bright, warm smile. "Dance with me."

"H-huh?"

"Distraction!" she declared, taking his hands and tugging him back to his feet. Her fingers tangled with his as her other hand reached for his bad shoulder—he flinched, expecting pain, but the touch was too light. She snatched her arm back anyway and her left hand tightened on his reassuringly. "Oh no, I'm so sorry—did I—"

"N-no—I just—you startled me."

She nodded, relieved, and placed her hand on his hip instead, mirroring him. Not exactly proper form, but she... it mattered to her. "Okay. Focus on your footwork. Left goes first."

"But I—"

"Just follow my lead," she said, stepping back and drawing him with her like being pulled by a current. Being right-handed, though, he stepped forward with his right foot and they immediately stumbled a half step before correcting with the ease of trained warriors. "Left right left, right left right, left right left, right left right, hey, you're not bad at this."

"Y-you say that like you're surprised," he mumbled through half a smile. She was right, the monotonous movement was helping. So was the fact that she wasn't pinning him against her and dragging him around the room with Semblance-enhanced strength.

Focus.

"No! I meant—I didn't expect you to know how to dance. Is that something a lot of farmhands do?"

"…Had to keep ourselves entertained somehow." Farmhands did, in fact, dance. Bandits usually did not. "But I learned from the man who trained us. He said it would improve our footwork while fighting."

Summer laughed. "My mom did too! It must be an Anima thing." She was almost as good as Bones, but of course she didn't have several stolen lifetimes of experience. And far better than Raven—his sister didn't have a strength Semblance but she tended to drag people around too.

She stepped back, bowing with a little flourish that he recognized, and responded in kind. When they pulled back together the steps were far more intricate, including the half-beats as well. They were clearly both rusty at the more complicated Mistrali dance but it was easy to adjust when one of them tripped up.

Flurries started to fall, but the balcony wasn't too icy yet.

"I'm pretty sure that's not traditional," Tai teased as they creatively returned to the correct rhythm, and they quickly slowed to a stop. "Are you okay?"

"I'm…" he swallowed. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

Tai blinked, his eyebrows knitting together. "…Why?"

"D-dan's your friend."

Both of them started at him, mouths hanging open. What—why weren't they mad until he—

"Not any-fucking-MORE," Summer screamed at a whisper.

"My friends don't treat anyone that way. Especially not my other friends."

"But I—"

"Repeat after me," she demanded, resting her fists against her hips in an eerily Professor Mesánychta-y way. "I. Deserve. To be. Treated. Better."

He swallowed another wave of nausea. "It doesn—"

"I. Deserve. To be. Treated. Better."

Raven poked her head around the column behind them, wide-eyed and knife half drawn. Summer and Tai followed his gaze, and she didn't quite manage to get it hidden in time.

"You're still carrying—" Summer buried her face in one hand. "Is that why you wanted long sleeves?"

"Yes," she said immediately, clearly relieved to have an excuse that had nothing to do with keeping her wrists covered, but Summer sighed deeply and she faltered. "…No?"

"Raven, I just got three months of detention for punching that shi—"

"If you stab somebody it'll be a lot worse!"

She leaned back defensively. "They have auras."

Summer gave another long-suffering sigh and beckoned her over. "Come on, group hug."

"I'm okay."

"That's an order from your team leader."

Raven had never disobeyed a direct order, and it was probably that habit that convinced her to join in the hug.

The world lit up white, followed by a muffled thump, and the four of them stared upwards at the snow.

"Is that lightning? In winter?" Raven asked as the sky flashed again.

"Thundersnow," Tai said, brushing snow from his bangs. "Only happens in Vale, something to do with warm air from the Emerald Forest. Isn't it pretty?"

Other students—especially ones from other Kingdoms—began to join them out on the balcony, all staring out at the storm together.

Qrow stared down at his feet. My friends don't treat anyone that way.

What would they do when they found out he was a murderer?

Next Chapter: Summer—Special Request

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #qrow branwen #summer rose #taiyang xiao long #raven branwen #dan effuiller #zelenia mesánychta #follow the beacon

[tittyinfinity]

Look. Telling a disabled person that they would "be better if they changed their diet and exercised" is ableist and offensive as hell.

I do yoga and physical therapy poses almost daily. If I didn't, I'd be in more pain. But I still have a LOT of pain. It's still there. And it's still bad. Probably because my pain comes from health issues and not from lack of exercise.

I did multiple sports from the ages of 8-15. My scoliosis developed at 16. It became extremely painful to do any of those sports. I had to quit because of it. I also developed an iron deficiency at that time.

My diet? When I was skinnier, I was eating regularly. But now? I'm in too much pain to stand up and make a healthy meal the majority of the time. I HAVE to rely on fast, unhealthy food most of the time, or I wouldn't eat at all. Not only that, but I don't have an appetite until later in the day and it's extremely hard to eat before then. And then there's the fact that my meds make me nauseous and I throw up a lot of what I eat.

When I'm on meds that change how I taste things and affect my stomach and nausea levels, and someone tells me I need to just "change my diet", it hurts. It's offensive. I KNOW I'd be healthier if I ate better. That's why I cook healthy meals when I'm NOT in as much pain - and even then, my pain meds make it harder to eat that too. Even if I take it with food that I force myself to eat.

The people who are closest to me know that I am much more productive when I can control my pain levels. And they see how hard it is for me to do things when I'm in a lot of pain.

It's easy for people to say "just exercise, do yoga, and eat healthy" when they don't experience intense pain every day of their lives. When my joints feel like they're grinding against each other and/or my back muscles are in complete knots all over and moving makes me feel miserable, how am I suppose to exercise or stand up long enough to make a meal (or do pretty much any physical thing at all)?

I can exercise occasionally when my meds are actually helping. I can make meals every now and then. I CAN'T do them regularly, and just because I can every now and then (WHEN I CAN MANAGE MY PAIN) doesn't mean I'm lazy or that I don't want to do those things. It means I'm LITERALLY IN TOO MUCH PAIN TO DO IT.

Trust me, I've tried alternatives. Y'all REALLY don't understand just how much pain I'm in ALL THE TIME and how I've just trained myself to hide it so people don't think I'm completely useless....because....I see myself as useless with all my health issues. I want to do SO much, but my pain stops me ALL the time....

Just please.....try to understand

I've been trying to learn how to function with this pain for years....it's just too bad for me to ignore.

Thank you for reading

#disability #disabled #scoliosis #i have way more health problems than just that #but scoliosis is the main source of my pain

[marvinswriting]

rouge

hurt/comfort(/hurt?) fic four :0 GENERALIZED TW: death (fear of it, mentioned, and/or, actual death); cursing; blood (mention, description, thought) mg borrower (roommates) au

Rouge borrowers are a thing. When I described them to Damian, he pointed out that they're the equivalent of a homeless person.

I told him all borrowers are technically homeless.

You won't catch me paying taxes.

Rouge borrowers are more like travelers. Never stay in one place too long, never settle down. They're left to their own devices at a younger age too. They have a different culture and borrowing technique than a stationary borrower. They're more reckless, more violent.

They travel alone most of the time. Each man for himself.

My father would tell stories of rouge borrowers that kill off humans if they get caught. 

They travel to houses but don't stay for long. 

There's a good chance a borrower has shared their house with a rouge without even knowing. 

Houses are big.

But- I never thought I'd face one.

"What are you doing here." He called out. He was holding a meticulously sharpened rock as a knife.

I was on the kitchen counter just trying to grab food. Kevin was across the kitchen getting water, frozen in place as he watched the rouge approach me. Gretchen had slipped away before he saw her. I fucking hope she had enough common sense to get Damian. 

I put my hands up in defense. 

"I live here."

He raises his weapon. "You two are stationary borrowers?"

"Yes." I say.

"Take me to your hideout. I want your supplies."

"What?! No!" I step back, but the rouge just steps closer again.

"Hey, dude-" Kevin steps over. "What's your name. Maybe we can work this out- without the kife?"

"Shane." The borrower says, but he doesn't lower his weapon.

"Hey, Shane. I'm Janis, this is my roommate Kevin. I agree I think we can talk civilly without-" I gasp, taking a step backward as Shane gabs his knife at me.

Kevin's arm wraps around my shoulders pulling me close to him.

"Hey! No stabbing the girl!" He says, pushing me a little behind him.

Normally I would object to needing to be protected, but Shane looks strong as fuck for a rouge borrower and has shown he has no hesitation to fucking stab us.

"There's another one of you." Shane deadpans. "Where did she go."

"I don't know," Kevin says calmly.

"Where did she go?!" Kevin steps back so he's next to me. Shane is swinging around his sharp rock-knife-weapon-murder-dagger, like a mad man. 

"We don't know!" I say. "Honest truth!"

She could be hiding in her room like a baby, or getting Damian. Or maybe she fell off the counter and fucking died. Beats me I guess.

Shane steps forward again. He gets to closer for comfort. "Are you sure."

"Yes!" My hands are still up by my ears. My tool bag as fallen by my feet, our week's supply of granola tucked beneath it all. I hope he doesn't fucking take it-

"I don't believe you. Take me to your house."

"You're in it buddy." I say. Kevin kicks the back of my leg. Yeah, I should cut down on the sarcastic quips since this dude could kill me at any moment. 

"Where you store your supplies. In the walls dumbass. I take it you're not wandering around after befriending the humans."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong." I grin.

Shane seems momentarily frightened by the idea that we have a giant ally but decides I must be bluffing.

He shoves me. "Your supplies. Now!" 

Woah woah woah this is getting violent fast what the fuck?

I stumble backward, trying to grasp something to stop myself from falling. I yank Kevin's shoulder but just end up bringing him down with me.

"What the fuck, Janis?" He whines as we both land on our butts.

"Sorry!" I groan, standing up. "What's your damage dude?" I ask Shane.

"My damage is I need fucking food."

"Then get your own! Not in this house!" 

"Not when you have easy access to food in your storage."

"Our storage is empty!" I throw my hands up in exasperation. "Why do you think we're borrowing!"

Both Shane and I are very close to each other. I may not have a knife but momma didn't raise no bitch. I can throw a punch when needed. 

"Then shows me where you normally get food."

"Fucking starve." I spit.

"Janis-" Kevin tried to pull me backward but I'm livid.

Does this boy think he can come into our area and take out resources? Hell no.

Anger flashes in Shane's eyes as his arm thrusts forward.

I don't even feel the pain at first. It's only when he withdraws his arm- his stone-sword-weapon-bitch-thing covered in blood when my mind makes the connection.

Holy fucking shit.

That's my blood.

Kevin gasps as Shane steps back. 

The pain hits like a wave of nausea as I double over, my hands shooting to my side. 

Oh, fuck?

Fuck.

"Where's your food?" Shane's voice is calm like he thinks the answer will change now that he's made his point.

I grit my teeth, standing up. My shirt is turning red but I close my jacket to hide it.

Out of sight, out of mind. I've got ass to kick.

"We. Don't. Have. Shit. For. You."

The kitchen light flicks on and I smile, watching the color drain from Shane's face.

"Human." He whispers.

"Mhmm."

Damian stood in the doorway, Gretchen on his shoulder. On the outside, he looked pissed, but I could see by the way his shoulders tensed that he was worried as fuck. 

I step forward, trying to ignore the pain in my side and the way the world spins.

"What's going on here?" Damian asks. The bubbliness in his voice is gone. Its enough to make me a little nervous. Shane's eyes widened. "Nothing I just-"

"He attacked us." I say. I feel like a child tattle tailing on their sibling.

"I'd leave if I were you." Damian says, walking over to the counter. He places Gretchen down without removing his eyes from the rouge borrower.

Shane doesn't need to be told twice.

Fucking pussy.

He turns to run and I don't care where he goes because the world is spinning slightly.

Extremely slightly.

Its actually not slightly at all.

But who cares. It's only a bit of blood loss. The rouge borrower is gone. 

I turn back to Kevin, big grin on my face. He eyes where my hand is pressed to my jacket but doesn't say anything.

"You guys okay?" Damian asks.

"Yup!" I grin. Kevin just looks away.

"Kevin?" Damian tilts his head. "You didn't get hurt, did you?"

"No," Kevin says dryly. "I'm okay. It's J-"

"Our food is safe!" I cut of Kevin with a grin, scooping up my tool bag, granola still stashed away. 

Damian and Gretchen smile warmly both of them visibly relaxing. I almost feel guilty. But hey, I'll be fine. It's not that deep.

"I was freaking out when Gretchen came into my room," Damian explains. "Normally only Janis stops by. I'm glad you guys are safe."

"Yeah! You're okay!" Gretchen cheers running over to Kevin and me. She pulls me into a tight hug and I grit my teeth. Ow. Fucking-

"Gretch. Stop."

Gretchen pulls back, eyes wide. "Janis-"

Her hand has blood on it.

My blood. 

There's a lot of it.

Damian gasps.

Kevin is mumbling something.

Gretchen's got tears in her eyes?

Bitch I'm the one who got stabbed. Why are you crying?

The world is spinning a lot now.

"Oh- heh." I laugh but there's no humor. "That's a lot of blood."

"Janis!" Gretchen gasps. "What happened?!"

"I got fucking stabbed its not hard to tell." 

Hmm, I'm starting to think sarcasm might be my way to cover up fear.

Fun.

Kevin is oddly quiet. He always has some sort of remark for my attitude.

Damian is frozen too.

Probably because I'm dying.

I'm dying.

Shit.

"Well." I laugh softly, my hand pressed to my side. "This was fun."

"Don't talk like that." Kevin mumbles. The stern tone is gone though. "You're gonna be okay. Just- sit down. I'm going to go grab medical shit."

"Don't lie to her, Kev. She dying. Shes-" Gretchen is full crying at this point.

"No, she's not!" Kevin snaps. "No- no shes not. I- I'll be right back."

I am dying, though.

I don't say it out loud. I don't want it to be true either.

I sit on the ground. My legs feel weak. My eyes feel tired. My side is burning yet ice cold at the same time. 

Blood is sticky. 

That’s a fact I would live without knowing.

"Jan, no." There's high panic in Damian's voice. "You need to stay awake."

Kinda forgot Damian was there. I don't want him to see me die. That's too sad.

Gretchen kneels in front of me. Her hand pushed down on my side above my hands. I cry out in pain but I know shes trying to stop the blood. "C'mon Janis. Kevin will be back. You need to stay awake."

Despite everything Gretchen is telling me I let myself fall backward, staring up at the ceiling. 

I was losing blood fucking fast I guess. I went from 10/10 hiding it to laying on the ground staring at the ceiling in seconds. 

Of all the ways a borrower can die, I get stabbed. I had family members drown in sinks, eaten by pets, starved from unpredictable human schedules- and  I’m killed off my another borrower.

Fucking great. 

"Janis." There's panic in Damian's voice. "Please. Sit up. Stay awake."

It's too hard. 

I’m tired. 

I can’t.

"Janis!" Gretchen is full sobbing. 

I'm sorry, Gretch. Sorry for being a bitch ass roomate. My bad.

Everything sounds muffled. I think I can hear Kevin returning. There are more hands.

Everything hurts.

I don't have enough energy to push them off.

"Jan, Love. You need to stay awake."

Damian.

Thanks for telling me all about your world. They were fun stories to hear. 

Love you.

"C'mon Janis. You're stronger than this. You really gonna let one rouge borrower take you down?"

It appears I am, Kevin.

Sorry guys.

If I were to quote bear, oops. Lol. Tags! @realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @sourishlemons @smallsoysauce

#hurt/comfort(/hurt?) #borrower janis #borrower gretchen #borrower kevin #BORROWER SHANE? #w h a t #giant damian

[mthrodrgns1315]

Here We Go...

Hyperemesis Gravidarum:

noun

persistent severe vomiting leading to weight loss and dehydration, as a condition occurring during pregnancy.

Most people by now know of Kate Middleton's multiple hospitalizations as a result of her severe Hyperemesis Gravidarum. We've heard of her sickness, her hospitalizations, her emergency IV fluids, etc. We also heard the media downplay it, which was absolutely heartbreaking for those of us in the general public who also suffered from it.

Like Princess Kate, I also suffered from it. Twice. They were the two worst experiences of my life (aside from losing my beloved cat and everything my little family owned in the Paradise, CA Camp Fire on November 8, 2018). Throwing up every 15 minutes like clockwork, all day and all night, unable to eat or drink anything, being hospitalized and requiring emergency IV fluids (a challenge in itself because I was so severely dehydrated that my veins collapsed), wishing for anything to make it stop, losing 30 pounds in two weeks, being starving but unable to eat. Every. Single. Day. For four straight months. Twice. And compared to most fellow HG sufferers, I had it easy!

But I was promised that giving birth would be the end of it all. That, as soon as I held my little baby in my arms, as soon as I welcomed them into the world, it would all end. Like magic. Boom. Over. Done. And while the constant vomiting did end as soon as I gave birth, and while I was able to eat chicken nuggets (or everything for that matter, but chicken nuggets were my biggest craving) for my first postpartum meal, the magical end to it all was...not a lie, but definitely not as promised. I can't call it a lie, because Hyperemesis Gravidarum is researched so rarely and has been studied so little, that no doctor knows all the effects (short or long-term) of it yet.

For myself, and a very large majority of the women in the Hyperemesis Gravidarum survivor's group on Facebook, the after effects consist of regular and unexplainable nausea, gallbladder disease, PTSD, anxiety, depression, flashbacks, and eating disorders (overwhelmingly binge eating).

When I gave birth to my kids, I had dropped to my lowest weight ever: 135 lbs. Which is typically an ideal weight for my height, but I had been literally starved down to that weight. So although my weight was healthy, I did not, in ANY way, look healthy. My eyes were dark and sunken. My cheeks were hollow, my collar bones jutted out, I was anemic, etc. It's been seven years since my first HG pregnancy, and my relationship with food is anything but healthy now. In one year since having my youngest (now 5), I ballooned from 135 to 200 lbs. I have since been diagnosed with a binge eating disorder and have been struggling greatly to overcome it. My reactions to food are extremely unhealthy, because to my brain, survival mode has become permanent. There is a constant uncertainty on when I will be able to have my next meal, or if I will be able to keep down the one I've just finished. As a result, I eat as much as I can (until it is literally painful for me before I've even left the friggin table), as often as I can. I get highly defensive over my food, basically behaving much in the same way as a dog with resource guarding problems does. Because it's mine. MY food. If I don't eat it all right this very second, eat every single morsel, I will pay for it later. I will starve to death. I will throw it all up. I will, once again, end up in the hospital, being poked and prodded with thick needles as an entourage of nurses attempt multiple veins across my arms, hands, and fingers to administer IV fluids. Of course, none of this comes true anymore. I can no longer have kids. My OB/GYN saw to that when she "obliterated my tubes." Just picturing being pregnant again makes my entire body shake it scares me so much. I am absolutely terrified I will end up pregnant again through some freak accident of nature.

And even though I KNOW all this, even though the rational and logical side of my brain is more than well aware of these facts, the part that is still gripped by PTSD after all these years is what controls my actions regarding food in the end. My weight number continues to grow, as does my jeans size and waistline (and boobs, much to my dismay).

So here I am, doing a public journaling of sorts, hoping that having some public accountability will help me push through the mental issues in the aftermath of multiple HG pregnancies. My goal is to get down to my ideal weight of, ironically, 135 lbs (a healthy weight for my height), but this time, I will do it in a healthy way. I won't restrict my eating, doing fad diets or by starving myself (as I've, sadly, tried before). This time, I'm going to exercise, starting slowly and working on making it a daily habit rather than forcing it, and I will work on rationalizing through my anxiety and fear surrounding food, while also working to portion out my food better. My hope, is that I will become a healthier person, more mentally than physically. Because, to be honest, it isn't even really the weight that bothers me. Most people tell me I don't look 200 lbs (thanks to an hourglass figure that gains weight proportionately). It is the physical effects of that weight that bothers me: my knees always hurt, I am constantly tired, etc. But more importantly, it's the mental effects this eating disorder causes that really, truly bothers me. It is the main reason for my depression, for my anxiety. Because every time I binge, I feel terrible afterward. I am in literal physical pain, and I feel guilty; I've snapped at my kids who just wanted one tiny bite (just a little taste), I feel guilty for letting myself do it again, I feel physically exhausted and even more depressed, and I feel absolutely stupid for ignoring the rational part of my brain again and letting my trauma take over, I feel just generally...terrible.

I'm gonna try to post daily, working through my progress and (let's be real) setbacks, my thoughts and mental changes, my moments of logic, my downfalls, and my triumphs. I, in no way, expect this to be easy. I know this will be hard, but I made it through HG twice. I can do this too, eventually. And maybe I can help women in the same position I'm in along the way.

Well, now that I've rambled for a few pages, here I go.

#HG #binge eating #Hyperemesis Gravidarum #PTSD #overcoming trauma

[diaryofsecrecy]

It has been the most exhausting year of my entire life and I will be surprised if I ever top it...

Brent was having a hard time adjusting to the altitude when we 1st came out here, (July 8th 2020) But as time went on he got better as expected. Then suddenly he got worse and worse, Eventually he lost the job that he got because he was calling out so often throwing up and experiencing extreme nausea.  Because of covid, the doctors were booked for weeks (new patient) so it was just kind of a waiting game until we finally decided to just go to the ER.  They did a full blood panel and decided that he needs to see a GI doctor because everything else is normal. So, That was booked 2 weeks out and he was sent home with nausea medication for one week...

Of course we were going to try to buy or rent so I was freaking out about money and working as much as I possibly could... But then I too had to go to the emergency Room because I had extreme abdominal pain resulting in an emergency appendectomy😖

The day after my surgery, I am home, when my dad comes in with my older sister.

To my knowledge, my older sister was diagnosed paranoid schizofrantic. She has been Homeless for the last 11 years,  And on drugs.  She recently was beaten so badly that she was left with several brain injuries on top of it all, And while she was healing at the hospital somehow they didn't notice her walk out.  We were just about to get her placed somewhere safe...And they lost her.

Anyhow dad walks in with my sister who I guess called him from a coffee shop when they told her that she couldn't sleep there anymore (after a month of being missing again) Dad had to go back to work so then it was me & her for the next 2 days, As you can imagine, not the rest I needed post surgery... then, I had to go back into the hospital because something wasn't right. I was there for 3 more days, 2 days alone because ben was so sick that it was worse with him being there than me sitting by myself in pain and nausea of my own.

Fast forward a few more months, tragic accidents led to 2 separate deaths of my parents dogs. Both events I happen to be present, so get blamed & am no longer welcome at mom & dads.

(Still healing from sugury, brent still very sick)

We get an apartment, and I start working as a nanny for my aunt twice a week while working at Massage Envy the other 5 days.

At this point, I am tired. I am horney, and lonely, and Absolutely. Fucking. Miserable.

I am begging ben to keep up with drs. but he has lost hope of getting better, and I have no way of helping him when I am already worn too thin.

After 9, Long, long months, he eventually, with my consistent pushing, nagging, most likely not always kind remarks, he finds out his hormones are completely off, which I knew would be the case, his dick hadnt worked for the last 3 years properly..

Anyway. He blames his addiction medication rather than continuing dr. Appointments... he gets on testosterone with an outside company(pay out of pocket kind of subscription company...rather than checking insurance, or figuring out what causes low testosterone and fixing that first). I was working and had no influence in any of those choices that effect us both as they have for at least 2 years. He hasnt touched me for so, so, long.

Month 3 of his medication that seems to be working (only reason I know is there was a ton of porn in my google history, he had declined all advances, except the rare, 3 times he allowed a blowjob then left immediately after for the gym or literally anything else rather than make it romantic at all.)

Month 4, he forgets to make a payment at all, so now we owe $250 rather than the normal $100. His meds get sent, then FedEx loses the package all together so, he is sick and I am house sitting in a dream home, alone for 2 weeks straight that originally was going to be our getaway to focus on Us.

At this point, brent and I havnt slept in the same bed for 2 months. At first cause he says I'm mean and he wants to not be near me, but now its cause hes "more comfortable out in the living room..."

A month ago when we last had a conversation about our relationship he said he wants space and a break from me all together. I'm too much.

I am the problem..?

When trying to understand what he means, he shuts down the connvo, saying he cant talk about it anymore. It's been 30 days since we have made any verbal progress. Our fighting has stopped though, and I'll tell you why...

Rewind 1 week before house sitting;

1 week after brent and I had an awful fight where he told me we should take a break, I stay at my parents & My mom offers for me to join them at a graduation party of a kid I used to babysit.

We were sitting in the back of the dining room, out of the way, when I saw someone i slightly recognized in the hallway. Not sure from where, but he was the kind of guy that you couldnt stop looking at. He was clearly into fitness, his shirt couldnt hide the muscular features he had been perfecting either, despite him dressing nothing out of the ordinary. He had beautiful ink crawling up his leg, an artform that would only mean something to someone who is more spiritually awake. But more noticable about anything was that smile.

God that smile. His face was scruffy, as if he had been away, but regardless, the smile he had influenced his entire ora. His eyes smiled, his walk... smiled. He had some kind of thing about him that was a physical draw I had never known for myself before. Dont get me wrong, i have been woo'd by many men so far in my life, from all stages in life, but This one was just, different. He was making his way around the room, & I could hear his voice over my mom who's talking beside me. I had literally been blocked out by my ever wondering thoughts of this random stranger whom felt familiar.

Then, he was there, at our table?

He was so easy to talk to, not even sure how we started now, but all I know is I was not nervous despite my very physical attraction to him.

He spoke of traveling, and adventures hes been on. This guy had a whole other life in the military at one point and now was traveling, working for a company that sends him around the US.

This guy had Hope's and dreams and somehow we got to talking about that kind of thing at a graduation party?

When I left that day, I thought about him. Not just him specifically, but men like him. Had I chosen Brent wrongfully? Does brent even like who I am anymore, what does he want going forward in his own life? How do I even fit into that? He understands my need for adventure but his actions say that he doesnt want to come along. My mind was loopy after that because for the first real time I questioned, what if there was someone who wanted to see the world,  Who liked my sad music, and my emotions being in everything I do? What if there was a women more interested in the simple home life, having a couple dogs and living a small, comfortable life? Are we doing one another a disservice by occupying oneanother's lives? How could I ever bring that up with Brent at all without making him feel so inadiquite after a year of terrible sickness and defeat?

Well, when I went to that big, gorgeous dream home the following week to house sit for 2 weeks... begging him to come see me, I grew weak from overthinking. I cried, I cried so much the first 3 days.

I cried from a place of such sadness, anger, bitterness, defeat, they were so strong. My mind was cloudy, drunk, stoned, tired.... I found myself writing a suicide letter.

My plan was to disappear, I knew I'd find a firearm in the home & allow someone to find my remains eventually in the hills where I'd walk far enough.

I prepared by cleaning the litterbox, laying out several bowls of water for the dog and cat, and watered all the plants heavily. I transfered brent all the money in my bank accounts, and as I waited for the sheets to come out of the dryer I balled my eyes out, reading the last conversations I had had with my family members. I thought to myself how the kids would take it, what different life choices they would make having been close with someone before their passing. At this point, I needed something, but I needed it from someone who doesnt know me in my life right now, but the me that was worth saving. The me I still recognized.

I called an old friend from 2nd grade. Hadnt talked to her in years and years, didnt known her life, her schedual, her name(which had been changed). But she talked me down. She saved my fucking life. It took a person who knew my soul years ago, to remind me I am not alone.

I dont blame my parents, or who I thought would be my future husband. I had talked with my aunt earlier that day and she couldnt see it either. I had become this fake shell of a person and it took considering an actual murder of myself to make me see that if I continued this path, I would die eventually and nobody in my life would ever see me preparing for it.

That night, I invited a complete stranger over and we fucked like rabbits. 4 times. He got to do things he'd never done before, and I begged him to. Sounds cold, sounds unapologetically disgusting that I'd do something like that, but quite frankly, I FUCKING needed it. I needed someone to see me, even if he didnt see my current life nor care about me as a person... he saw, touched, kissed, sucked and ate me up. For the first time in at least 2 years, i felt satisfaction when I walked him to the door and watched his car drive away.

It was like a sigh of relief, an inch I could not reach for the longest time, gone. Finally.

The following days, brent began putting in more effort. It has been 3 weeks and I'd say he has been kinder to me than he had in a while (probably the lack of testosterone) but also, I havnt seen much of him in general. From his point of view, it is all fine. Hes getting the space he needed, I'm being nicer since I quit massage Envy, and things are looking up....

But that is because he doesnt See Me.

My suisidal thoughts subsided after my long conversation with Scout. & that night I called my cousin as well, and learned he too had been in my shoes before. He said something that stuck with me.

If everyone has an expiration date on their life already, and we don't know when it is, you're to the point that you're life is so invaluable that youd kill yourself than flee your life and make one you want. Dont care about the people youd hurt, because suicide is just as careless as abandoning them all indefinitely.

He was so right, it put things into perspective, gave me a freedom I felt I was waiting to gain permission for.

Five days later, I noticed He had written me 5 before, on the day I had truly planned to end my current life..

He had written me at 12am, what would someone like him, a gorgeous, beefed out, big thinker, high energy, go getter be doing messaging me, a tired women who was 300lbs a year ago, (still working on getting to a normal size) and completely at a crossroads with existance.

I entertained the connvo a tad, and honestly forgot about it for a few days as I figured no way he could be serious.

He triple messaged me, and asked for my personal contact info to have real conversation?

Hesitantly, and wildly excited to even just flirt for a moment with someone who is literally everything I fantasize when I'm alone everynight....

Our conversation immediately took off. In directions I hadnt expected at all what so ever. He told me he had to admit he felt drawn to me, like he had known me in another life. That he doesnt expect me to get it, but I did. We talked about things that only my sister and I can relate to on a spirituality standard and it changed me in that instant. Suddenly i realize, I wasn't broken, I was just misunderstood. & that there are people in this world that See Me even when I am not trying. Not many, and it takes a specific Kind of person, but they do exist and when you meet them, you cant ignore it. It is as if they stain you with remembrance.

As the sexually hungry humans we are, not only did we find that morality, values, future goals coexist, but also our importance of intimacy. Not just lust and sex, well, yes that too, uff did those conversations get so, fucking, hot, but the interactions of intimacy and how they make a person whole.

I opened up to him about Brent, and where I am at in life, asking he please oversee my unfaithfulness, but that I am loyal at heart. He says with such pain in his voice how he too in a parallel position simultaneously, however, he married her 7 years ago.

Ugh.

So now I get to choose. Do I chose mortality, say no, brent and the other women deserve to understand the severity of sex, love and passion, and if they chose not to then we will leave before we act on our mutual attraction....? Or, do we say hell with it and give in to serendipity moments that our hearts crave so badly, take on the consequences and move forward. Sigh. If only there was a guideline for complicated.

Last night, as the 5 nights before, we talked for hours on the phone. His voice makes me smile every, damn, time. Perhaps because it's new and exciting, or maybe I just love to hear him go on his tangents of loving yourself despite the bad in life. I Want him. I want him when I wake, &when I go to sleep. I do not want a life without him& it saddens me to know our timing is incorrect. He asked her for a divorce a year ago, but has sat comfortably as I have despite the horror because weve both been too busy, too tired, too... afraid that life will always be lonely. Last night, he said to me, Elise, I love you. I avoided it several times but when he said it two more times, I couldnt keep it any longer to myself, Jackson, I really do Love you as well. It's scary, and faster than I'd ever say it to anyone. But I know it to be true because I Feel it. I want his love so badly. I want him to live life along side of me because with a person like him, I'd be a better me.

I am absolutely terrified. My life, my home, my family, dogs, my 5 year relationship, the unborn children brent and I have named, and the houses we'd have... all gone?

Running away with a man who says hes going to leave his wife is absolutely stupid. I'd be an idiot to think I am enough to get him through that fear of change, yet he gives me strength to want to try, so maybe I do, Him?

Ugh my brain being pulled in many ways. My heart having been in pieces so many times now doesnt know who to go to or why. I know for certain I love Brent, is this a self gratifying moment To push me back to him? Is this the devil bringing two lost people together to ruin four people at once?or is this Fate. Fate that has seen both of us individually loosing ourselves in a life we didnt want and has brought us together to lean on one another, temporarily not?

Suppose time will tell.

Last two days he has been working a ton, and told me that tomorrow he has something he needs to talk to me about.

I assume it isnt good. I assume it is the first put off of many, because, I know I want to do the same. Part of me says I should block him right now, because lust, and attraction, both mentally and physically like that couldnt make a women addicted and that's a no good addiction when he has a women in his house with his last name. 😔

#latenite #life #struggle #deep thinking #bad choices #misunderstood #deardiary #confessions