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literaila · 4 years

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spencer reid x reader

warnings: none... well angst.. and shitty writing

***

Long nights out with the rest of the team were always dreadful the next morning.

But Y/N felt like this morning was one of the worst.

She’d woken up with mascara running down her face, her joints stiff and cracking at any little movement. Her head was banging from the inside out, and if she focused enough she could feel her brain beating against her skull.

And don't even get her started on Spencer.

It had taken Y/N at least 10 minutes to get him to open his eyes. Although he wasn't an avid drinker and had only taken a couple of sips of wine, he seemed to be even more hungover than Y/N did. She cuddled up to him, leaving kisses down his cheeks and neck before he would even consider opening her eyes.

So like the dutiful girlfriend she was, Y/N got up and started a pot of coffee for both of them, and then headed into the bathroom to grab some advil, which she had to force-feed to Spencer.

And eventually, after the alarm clock started blaring for the 6th time, both of them finally started to get ready.

Their dynamic for mornings like this was simple, Y/N always got to shower first, while Spencer fought to stay awake without yawning every 10 seconds, and then Y/N went to go make breakfast for the both of them, which they would eat in the car on the way to the BAU.

And that particular morning no one seemed to be up for any sort of chit chat, barely even passing casualties back and forth before sitting down at their desks ready for a day of paperwork. They made sure to plan a night full of drinking the night before a day of paperwork. They weren't idiots all of the time.

Though their good planning all went to waste when Hotch asked them to meet him in the conference room.

Hangovers and serial killers it was.

***

“Bobby Smith, 9 years old, vanished 48 hours ago from a residential area, where his mother Marlene Smith, claims to have dropped him off.” Garcia started handing each one of the team members a folder. You could hear the drowsiness in her voice, and because everyone felt the same, they all pretended to not notice.

There was a brief silence while they all read their files before Derek startled them back to life.

“48 hours and we’re just learning about it now?”

Y/N carefully grabbed Spencer's hand under the table, rubbing up and down his forearm while reading her file. It was tough to keep it professional at work, but Y/N always managed to keep the touching as limited as she could. But the ache she felt when she wasn't touching Spencer spread through her muscles like angry wind just begging her to reach out to him. And so she touched him, she felt comforted by the little body heat she could feel from even just resting her, it was especially comforting when they were on a difficult case. It was a rare occasion when she managed to keep her hands off of him, but Y/N tried to keep it as platonic as she could, not wanting to make Spencer of their coworkers uncomfortable.

Though as she read through her file, she could see the little inconspicuous movements Spencer made. She wondered if he was trying to keep himself awake or just felt restless, either way, she kept her hand on his.

What she didn't see was the panicked almost annoyed glances Spencer was giving her hand, she didn't see the way he was leaning away from her, moving his chair slightly to the right as to distance himself from her.

JJ did though, she watched with a frown on her face listening to Gracia explain what had happened to the little boy, but not moving her eyes off of Spencer and Y/N. She tried not to notice Spencer's body language and the clear physical contact going on under the table.

“So she's not exactly on the shortlist for the mother of the year,” JJ said, still clearly looking at the couple, while neither of them noticed.

And she didn't look away, even when Spencer looked up and added a few notes of statistics, and Hotch announced it was time to go.

They all made moves to get up and go, watching Hotch walk out the door in a rush to get everything set up for them to leave. JJ grabbed Spencer before he could protest, dragging him into her office. The others watched in confusion before Derek finally said

“Guess we aren't invited to the party.” as he walked to grab his go-bag.

“It's probably something about the case, we better get going. Hotch seemed stressed.”

Y/N didn't seem confused by JJ and Spencer's scene, and let her mind run thinking about the case.

“Y/N?” She heard Hotch call.

He handed her a file and asked if she would bring it to Spencer- apparently it was something about the Mother he wanted him to look over- and because of the circles under his eyes, and the tired way his body was leaning she was quick to agree.

Walking over to JJ’s office, she was about to knock when she heard

“I love her JJ, I really really do. Sometimes though- I just- want some space- like you know I don't like touching anyone anyway, and I just-” he sighed and Y/N could feel herself holding her breath. “I just want some more space. I’m not sure how to tell her though”.

Y/N could feel the tears prick at her eyes, her stomach had fallen, taking the rest of her organs with it. At that moment it felt like the world was so silent she could hear her own heart beating. She could only think of all the times Spencer had seemed to pull away, thinking of the way she thought it was just an accident, that he was just restless, just needed to move a little.

But no.

He just didn't want her to touch him.

Y/N heard JJ sigh a soft “Spence…” before she turned away, forgetting about the file she was supposed to give him, and walking to get her bag so she could get the hell out of the office.

***

Finding Bobby's Mother dead was hard. It caused more confusion with the cause, and now the last known witness to Bobby had been murdered. The only good thing that had happened was the unsub letting one of the little boys go. But still, none of the team's questions had been answered.

Not touching Spencer was hard too.

Y/N had never been self-conscious about her affliction to touch, she’d never been afraid to hug someone, or rest her hands on their shoulders while looking at them. In fact, she couldn't remember a time in her life where she didn't like touching people, even as a kid it was clear she was a touchy-feely sort of person, but no one had ever wanted her to stop.

Spencer's germaphobic tendencies didn't go unnoticed by Y/N, when they’d first met he’d made it a point not to shake her hand, but as they got more comfortable with each other that changed. He didn't seem to mind her running her hands up and down her arms, or resting her hand on his cheek, or hugging him from behind any chance she got. She thought she was just special, that Spencer loved her so much that he didn't mind touching her, that there was nothing gross about sharing germs with someone that he was infatuated with.

Hearing that she was wrong was deafening.

Although she knew she was probably blowing things out of proportion, it felt like she’d been lied to for the last 2 years she and Spencer had been together. The guilt she felt just knowing she was making him uncomfortable by just being herself was insane.

And she couldn't help but feel like she had no option but to change it all.

So she didn't touch him, not on the plane, where usually they would share the couch while looking over the case once again with the team. She didn't touch him when he passed her in the hallway when they were sitting next to each other in a rental car when they walked to the hotel room when they had stopped to grab coffee the next morning. She didn't touch him at all.

It was killing her.

Touch was such a frequent thing for her, such a necessity and she’d never even realized it. Not touching him all the time was swallowing her whole, and filling her with doubt and insecurities that threatened to take over her mind. Anytime she wasn't working, wasn't helping out, wasn't thinking, his voice would come back, loud and clear, asking her for space. Nothing would get rid of the fear that she was too clingy, that she was just too much.

It was hard to look at him without worrying if he actually hated her love if he was starting to realize she was just too much for him. Just a couple of sentences could bring back insecurities that weren't gone apparently, just lost, insecurities that haven't been found since the beginning of their relationship when everything was still new. Y/N thought she’d moved past them.

But she hadn't. And now she was avoiding her boyfriend.

They had both noticed the distance, the wall that separated them. Spencer didn't understand it at all, he didn't know if something had happened or if he had done something, and he couldn't find the courage to ask. Y/N didn't want him to know. She didn't want him to feel guilty. She tried to ignore it, the constant barrier between them, but there was always a tension in the room.

But this was work, and a boy's life was at risk. Relationship problems were the least of anyone's worries.

Y/N and Spencer were stuck in the tiny conference room they had given the team at the police station, both of them going over files, although Spencer was obviously doing most of the work. Y/N could feel her eyes starting to fall, it wasn't technically that late, but paired with the insomnia that kept her up at night and the exhausting day she had and even 6 o’clock would seem late to anyone.

It’d been an uncomfortable hour of silence and reading when Spencer finally spoke up,

“Is something wrong?” Y/N could feel him looking at her, leaning his head down as if to make eye contact, but all she could feel was the heat coming off his body, the comfortable way his hand would feel in hers, and the hug that she so desperately needed. Eye contact wasn't enough, would never be enough, so she didn't look up.

A couple of days ago they would have been sitting almost on each other's laps, while reading, pointing out small details they noticed and helping each other. A couple of days ago Y/N wouldn't feel sad at the sound of Spencer's voice, and she would have looked up.

A couple of days ago seemed like a dream.

She could hear Spencer sigh and put down the paper he was holding. “Y/N?” He came around and put his hand on her shoulder, and her breath caught. “Is there something wrong?” He asked again quietly.

A million different answers flashed in her head “Yes Spencer I’ve found out that you don't actually like me touching you and I don't know any way to cope with that.” or “I feel so incredibly guilty that I’ve been forcing you to deal with something that you don't like, and I feel even worse that I didn't notice it.” or “I just want a hug.”

But none of those thoughts came out of her mouth, what came out instead was “Yes Spencer! A little boy is missing and none of us have any fucking clue how to find him!”, quickly she pulled away from his hand, and forcefully grabbed her bag before saying “I’m gonna go call Hotch” and left slamming the door behind her.

She didn't look back to see the sad look on Spencer's face.

***

Bobby was alive.

And so were the two other women the unsub had taken.

They were alive.

And they had the rest of their lives to live.

The unsub was off to jail, where hopefully he could get over his bitter feelings towards his mother. Where hopefully he wouldn't hurt anyone else.

Bobby had a long walk ahead of him, with his mother gone, murdered by the same man that was supposed to be helping Bobby. The grief was going to hurt, he would always have a missing piece, and a difficult story to share. For the rest of his life.

But he was alive.

***

Going home to their small apartment was a relief. For both of them.

Y/N couldn't help but hope for some sleep. Just anything that would make her feel better. She couldn't shake the devastating feeling of grief that was stuck pounding in her chest.

As much as she tried she couldn't convince her mind to get rid of the cloud of sadness covering it. She figured a good night's sleep would help remove some of that.

The clashing colors and filled to the top bookshelves in the apartment made her feel at home, and she tried to imagine them as if they were a hug that was keeping her safe and warm.

Silence filled the apartment, both of them not saying anything, and quickly moving into different rooms. Y/N went to the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. She was going to let Spencer have as much space as she could give him before she went to bed.

They hadn't talked on the plane again, Y/N put as much distance between them on the couch as she could, and Spencer hasn't made any more moves to touch her since the scene in the conference room. Maybe he had taken the hint, or maybe he just didn't want to touch her. Y/N couldn't decide which one it was.

“Y/N?” Spencer said slowly from the other room, almost as if he was questioning if she was still there.

“Yeah?” she answered back in almost a whisper, which was fine for the acoustics of their small home.

The acoustics that couldn't mask the sigh she heard come from the man in the other room before there was the distinct question of “can you come here?”.

Y/N felt stupid being uncomfortable walking into her own room, but the tension between them had only grown in the past few days, and she really didn't want to be walking into another night of a clod bed and an unwavering feeling of doubt.

“Do you need something Spence?” Y/N could hear the wheels of her boyfriend's brain turning from across the room. She had not directly addressed him in days. It was a surprise to both of them.

“We need to talk.” The four words coming out of her boyfriend's mouth stopped her heart. Her brain was filled with what he had told JJ “I just need space.” What if he was breaking up with her? What if the space she was trying to give him wasn't enough? What if he needed so much space that even being in the same house as her was too much? What if she was still too much for him even when she was touching him?

Spencer cleared his throat and took a few steps toward her, moving closer to the door. “That sounded wrong I.. I didn't mean for it to sound like that- I just..” He stopped and she wondered why the words were so hard for him to get out? She wondered if this was really it. If the love of her life was going to leave. “What's going on with you?”

Now that, that surprised her.

“W- what?”

“Your face, I- I can see there's something wrong and I thought-'' Spencer's voice went up with his words, and Y/N could feel the emotion behind them. “ god I thought it was just the case because you seemed fine before, and that's what you told me. That's what you said!” his eyes were on her, watching her stare at the floor with such intensity clearly trying to voice the question in his voice. “I thought it was just the case? I thought it was just hard on you but you still look so.. So sad and you won't even look at me and just what is going on because there has to be something that I missed this- this didn't just happen?” His breath caught and all Y/N could do was stare at the floor and feel small.

She felt so small.

“N-” she cleared her throat trying to mask her voice into something stronger, “Nothing happened Spence.”

“Then why won't you look at me?” He demanded still trying to get her to look up, still trying to get her to just look at him.

“I- '' there were so many questions running through her head like how did they get there? How did any of this happen? How could she feel so miserable? Why couldn't she just look at him?

“You haven't look at me, you haven't talked to me, you haven't even brushed your arm against mine once in the past week! I know something happened, and I don't know if I did something wrong? But I just want you to talk to me!”

The emotion coming from Spencer's voice surprised Y/N, but not as much as his words. He had actually noticed all of that? She felt so overwhelmed, and she had no idea how to answer him, how to explain everything. Tears were pricking at her eyes, and all she wanted to do was run away from him, from all the problems. She just wanted to run away.

Spencer took a deep breath and moved even closer to Y/N, standing right in front of her, ducking his head down to try to meet her eyes. “Y/N...we’re supposed to talk to each other. That's what couples do, they talk. I just want you to talk to me.” The desperation in his voice was obvious, but at that moment all Y/N could hear was ridiculing, and she felt like a child again, getting told what to do. And it was too much.

She looked up.

“That's what I thought Spencer! We’re supposed to talk to each other! So why couldn't you just tell me that you ‘needed space’?!?” The mocking was clear in her voice, and even though she saw the shocked look on her boyfriend's face she couldn't stop now. She moved her hands to wipe her tears and started again, “why couldn't you just tell me that I’m too much? Why did I have to find out by you talking to JJ?! God, I’m just trying to give you space but I’m not very good at it, so excuse me if I’m acting strange!”.

Suddenly the mood in the room changed. Spencer finally understood, and Y/N felt relieved having her thoughts out in the open. Even though she was still terrified of what was going to happen, just expressing her feelings removed a big weight off of her chest.

“Y/N..”

“No! No. Its- it's fine. I’m sorry for yelling at you I’m just-” she felt small again, like all the courage she had was used when she had yelled at him. “I- maybe I’ll go see if Emily's okay with me crashing with her tonight- I just- I just have to get my stuff I’ll-” Y/N had turned around to go, ready to accept defeat when she felt the hands on her waist pulling her back. “Spence it's fine-”

“No, it's not fine.” He said harshly and insistently. He tried to get her to turn around, but she was frozen to her spot. “Will you please just look at me?”

It took a few moments but hearing the desperation in his voice, Y/N finally let him turn her around. They stared at each other for a few moments, both of them stuck on the eyes they hadn't actually seen in days. Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I'm so so sorry.” The confusion must have been clear on his girlfriend's face because he continued, “I can't believe you could ever think I needed space from you, I can't believe I could ever believe I needed space from you.” There was guilt laced with frustration in his voice, and Y/N couldn't bring herself to speak.

Spencer was gentle while removing his hands from her waist, and instead placing them on her face, gently lifting her chin so that she couldn't look away. It was strange to be so intimate after not touching him for days. But the relief coming from Y/N’s body was clear, just a little touch removed all the ache she’d been feeling for days.

“I was wrong.” Spencer started again, the sentence unusual for someone as smart as him. “I don't need space, I just need you. I just need you Y/N.” his eyes were pleading with hers instant, and she hoped hers were telling him it was alright. “It was unbearable not touching you. I’ve felt so closed in, claustrophobic, these past couple of weeks and I thought I was because of you, but it wasn't, you touching me was the only thing holding me together honestly.”

Y/N felt more tears leave her, this time with happiness. Hearing that she could touch Spencer again flooded her body with the light she’d been missing.

“I'm so sorry you heard me talking. I’m so sorry I was talking in the first place. I never really know when to keep my mouth shut.” They both laughed at his words. The tension was gone, and instead, a bliss overcame them, the distance was so exhausting for both of them, touching each other was like caffeine that made their skin buzz.

“I love you, Spencer. I'm sorry for being so difficult.” He frowned at Y/N’s words, moving his thumbs slowly on her cheeks, and leaning down to kiss her.

It was soft and slow, almost like Spencer was trying to tell her how much he loved her, and how much he loved being with her through a kiss. And it reminded Y/N of their first kiss, so much questioning but still deeper. So she kissed him and tried to display the same feelings for him.

“You aren't going anywhere okay?” Spencer said breaking the kiss, a small smile resting on his face, a smile Y/N hadn't seen in days.

She pecked his lips and grinned at him, “just hold me okay?”.

And they were going to be okay. They hadn't talked everything out, but they were both exhausted, both barely awake. They would leave it for the night, and they would sleep peacefully in each others arms. Never again would space be included in the language they were building together.

pt. 2 here

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds imagine #one shot #spencer reid oneshot #emily prentiss x reader

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misskikuwrites · 3 years

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Piece by Piece (2/2)

Bederia Week 2021: Day 4- First Argument/make up

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

Tags: fluff, hangovers, mutual pining

Words: 7,533

@bede-x-gloria

Gloria woke up feeling as though she'd been flattened by a stampede of Dubwool. Her head throbbed. Her throat was dry and raw, and the light streaming through the gap in her curtains seared her eyes as if she was staring straight into the sun. She rolled over, turning her back to the window, and groaned hoarsely. She squeezed her eyes shut. Buried her face in her pillow as a wave of nausea sloshed in her stomach. She felt ill. Whatever sickness she'd picked up last night, it had quickly taken hold.

Great, another reason for me to hate the Gala, Gloria thought, and swallowed thickly. Pain lanced her throat as she did. She moaned into her pillow when another wave of nausea hit her, stronger this time. Her throat tightened. She curled into herself with a faint whimper.

I don't want to be sick, I don't want to vomit, I don't-

Another surge of nausea, rising higher up her throat. Gloria let out a sharp puff of air through her teeth, trying to keep the nausea at bay, to fight it down, to stop herself from retching. Pain drummed behind her eyes with every beat of her heart. She remained curled in a tight ball when her bedroom door clicked open and soft footfalls approached her bed.

"Not feeling so good, huh?" Gloria's mother's voice sounded too loud in her ears. The bed depressed next to her. "I've brought you some water and some painkillers if you're feeling up to taking them."

Gloria cracked an eye open at her mother. She had to blink away tears that formed beneath the onslaught of painful light. Her mother smiled kindly at her, holding a plastic cup in one hand and a pack of painkillers in the other.

"Don't worry, Hop told me what happened." Gloria's mother placed the cup and the medication on Gloria's bedside table, and gently touched her daughter's shoulder. "Hangovers are never pleasant, but to experience one at your age, when you'd been given alcohol without your knowledge… oh, hun." She smiled sadly. "I'm so sorry you're going through this."

Gloria blinked at her mother, her eyes slowly widening. A cold cloak of dread settled over her shoulders as pieces of last night came back to her. Fragments of colour, of faces and names that were now a blur, the bubbly sensation of sparkling wine on her tongue. Elliott. The boredom in his eyes, the way he'd shrugged when Bede had confronted him. Nausea crawled high up her throat. She tasted bile.

"Fuck," Gloria hissed through her teeth. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the prickling of tears that threatened to fall. "He gave me alcohol."

She hadn't picked up a virus. She hadn't caught something from someone at the Gala last night, from dancing and mingling with people for hours. Gloria had a hangover.

A shuddery breath escaped between her lips as they wobbled, and Gloria clenched her jaw in indignation. A different kind of pain thrummed through her chest, through her veins, blending with a surge of nausea. How could he do that to me?! She'd trusted Elliott. Lowered her guard around his sweet, understanding smile, and he'd taken advantage of her. Used her for his own entertainment. Her throat burned with ire, with the fury she wished to spew at him for doing such a thing to her. No longer did she shrink at how naive she'd been to trust him. No, it wasn't her fault. Elliott had plied her with alcohol, had woven his lies, in a way that left her unsuspecting. If not her, he would have done it to someone else. She at least had gotten home safely.

Gloria sat up with a groan, wincing as her head throbbed from the movement. She grabbed the cup of water off her bedside table and gulped down a mouthful before popping the painkillers into her hand and taking them with the rest of the water. Her mother took the cup off her and stood.

"I'll bring you some more water," she said. "If you're feeling up to it, you should come and have some breakfast. You haven't eaten since you left for the Gala last night."

Gloria sank against the head of her bed with a sigh. "What time is it?"

"Just after ten."

That explained the heavy gnawing in her stomach.

"Hop's here too," her mother continued, "he stayed overnight to make sure you were okay."

"Mm…" Gloria closed her eyes. Her headache made it difficult to think, memories of last night lying faint and out of reach. Breakfast sounded delightful, but she wasn't sure if her stomach would cope with anything more than the water and pills she'd taken, and didn't want to risk bringing them up. Exhaustion weighed heavily in her bones. Slowly, she sank beneath her blankets as her mother went to leave the room.

"Go ahead and sleep," Gloria's mother said. "I think you deserve to take it easy today after all that."

Gloria grunted in response, already burying her face in her pillow, longing for sleep to take hold. It wasn't long before she began to drift off again, strange memories of Bede filling her mind. Faint light illuminated the blush on his face. Her fingers cupping his cheek, dusting her thumb across his flushed skin. Bede tentatively resting his hand over hers. His eyes widening in shock. He was close, so close, and the look on his face-

Sleep took hold before she could wonder why he'd looked at her like that.

A few hours later, Gloria groggily stumbled from her room. She shuffled into the kitchen, driven by the ache in her stomach, and stopped to stare at Hop where he sat at the dining table.

"Morning, Glo," he said cheerfully, before catching himself. "Wait, I mean 'afternoon.'"

She glanced at the clock on the wall and winced. It was already past one o'clock.

"I really slept that long?" Gloria asked. She shook her head in disbelief, instantly regretting the motion as her head pulsed with pain. She swallowed a groan and dug out a box of cereal from the pantry, pouring herself a late breakfast.

"We figured it'd be better to let you sleep it off," Hop said. "Feeling any better now?"

"Eh."

She no longer felt like she was going to heave her stomach out through her throat, but the dull throbbing of her head remained. Everything was too bright, too loud. Gloria flopped into the chair opposite Hop, and slowly munched away at her cereal.

"Where's mum?" she asked.

Hop watched her with a curious look on his face. "At work. She only took the morning off so she could look after you, but you seem to be doing alright now."

"I just wish this headache would go away," Gloria huffed. "Guess it hasn't been long enough for me to take another dose, huh? I should've slept in more."

"You can have more pills in an hour," Hop said. "Until then, you've just got to suffer. Sorry!"

Gloria snorted. "Wow, thanks for the sympathy." Sarcasm rolled off her tongue in between mouthfuls of cereal. She rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help noticing that he was still giving her a strange look. As though he was waiting for something. "What?"

Hop stiffened and his expression froze in place. "I didn't say anything."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

He glanced away. "It's, uh, nothing, really. But you should probably check your phone."

"My phone? Why?" Gloria frowned at him. He was avoiding her gaze, shifting awkwardly on the chair. Uncomfortable, uneasy. Something had happened. "What did you do?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Me? I didn't do anything!" Hop balked.

She glared at him suspiciously for a moment longer before standing and marching into her room to retrieve her phone. She snatched it off her bedside table and clicked the screen to life. There were a few unread messages waiting for her. Gloria read through them as she stalked back to her half-eaten breakfast; one from Sonia, another from Marnie, both filled with concern and asking how she was. Leon had typed out an apologetic message, saying that he'd heard the rumours about Elliott and wished he'd cautioned her about them last night. The sincerity - and guilt - in Leon's text made Gloria smile softly as she slid back into her chair and returned to munching at her breakfast. Hop still had an expectant look on his face, sitting on the edge of his chair. He looked away quickly when she glanced up at him.

It was like he was anticipating something. Gloria frowned, and turned back to the messages she hadn't read yet. There were three unread texts from Bede, one of which he'd sent a week ago when she'd bolted halfway through him teaching her to dance. He'd sent the message in reply to the excuse she'd given him that something had come up and she was busy. Gloria hadn't been able to gather the strength to read his text. She'd left it unread for a week. In fact, she'd kept her phone off for the first few days, dreading a phone call from Bede. Gloria felt her stomach twist in trepidation now as it had a week ago. She felt Hop's eyes on her. Felt the thorns of fear dig into her heart as its grip tightened around her again. She wished to shove her phone aside, to ask Hop point-blank why he was looking at her like that, to leave Bede's messages unread for as long as she could.

But she couldn't. Gloria took a deep breath, quiet and subtle enough that Hop wouldn't notice her fear, and checked the messages from Bede. Immediately, her fears from a week ago were dispelled. The text Bede had sent in reply wasn't accusatory at all, wasn't suspicious or gruff. He'd accepted her excuse, and hoped that everything was okay. At the end of his short message, he'd reminded her that she could always ask him for help. That was it. Gloria stared at the message in disbelief as the weight of her fear dropped from her shoulders. She'd been so worked up over nothing. It was almost laughable- almost. Her gaze drifted automatically to the two remaining messages Bede had sent, both from last night, and her blood ran cold. It was the third and final text that froze Gloria to her core.

When you're feeling better, please call me. We need to talk.

Dread crashed over Gloria. Like she'd been caught by a towering wave, the air stole from her lungs. She couldn't breathe. Her head was underwater. Her mind churned. It left her winded as though she'd been dumped by that very wave, toyed with and spat out on the hard sand.

We need to talk.

She felt cold. The spoon slid from her hand and sloshed into her cereal, her fingers going numb. She was going numb. Her heart thumped painfully loud in her ears, and she slowly lifted her gaze from the words on her screen to look at Hop.

"What did you do?" Gloria asked. She forced the words out through the fear constricting her throat. "You told him?"

Hop blinked at her. His uncomfortable unease shattered into an expression of indignation. "What? No! Of course not!" He bristled, huffing at her. "Why would you even think that?"

"Bede wants me to call him," she said, studying Hop closely. Still unconvinced. "He said… he wants to talk."

There it was- Hop stiffened as if he expected her to say that. He knew.

"See! You know something!" Gloria jabbed an accusatory finger at Hop. "What did you tell him?!"

"I didn't say anything!" Hop protested. "Didn't need to - not that I would've anyway - with you making it obvious like that."

"Like what?" She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

What did she do? Her mind spun, wracking her memory of last night for whatever it was Hop was insinuating. Had she given her feelings away without realising it?

"Glo, I saw it. There's no point pretending you don't know what happened," Hop said. He shifted uncomfortably, looking away from her.

Gloria's stomach swirled anxiously. "Saw what?" She thought back to that moment on the balcony with Bede. Her memory was fuzzy, clouded with intoxication, the very words she'd said to him were muffled as though she were trying to listen to someone speaking through a thick pane of glass.

Hop glanced at her incredulously. "You seriously don't know?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be asking you!" Gloria said, huffing in exasperation. "What are you talking about?"

He opened his mouth to speak, before pausing. Hop studied her for a moment, a few seconds passing as his expression turned from frustration to surprise and then the unease returned. He looked away.

"Gloria, how much of last night do you remember?" Hop asked, quieter than before.

"All of it," she said confidently. Hop turned back to her and Gloria's heart flopped. Suddenly, she doubted herself. The look on his face, the fact that he'd asked that question in the first place, sent a prickle of fear down her spine.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Hop asked.

"I…" She struggled to find her voice. "I remember coming home…" The memory was a blur of nausea and tears. "I think- I think mum helped me out of my dress and got my makeup off…?" The more she thought about it, the fuzzier her memory was.

"And before that?" Hop looked as nervous as she felt. "At the Gala?"

Gloria pursed her lips in thought. "Um… I remember getting into a Sky Taxi somewhere? Marnie was there too, I think?"

Hop nodded slowly. "Anything else?"

"I remember Elliott," Gloria huffed. "That asshole. He came out onto the balcony with another drink. That's when Bede confronted him and…" she trailed off as her expression soured, lips curling in distaste. "He admitted to giving me alcohol on purpose. For his own amusement. The whole thing was such a shock, I started crying. Bede, he brought out this lacy handkerchief from Arceus-knows-where and helped me clean up my makeup."

Gloria breathed a faint, sheepish laugh at the memory. "I must've looked like such a mess."

Hop nodded slowly. "What about after that?"

Gloria frowned. "I already told you. We got out of the Gala and went home."

Hop went quiet. He chewed the inside of his cheek awkwardly, again shifting on his chair, and his nervous mannerisms sent a trickle of panic down Gloria's spine. She was missing something. Something big.

"Hop, what happened?" she asked. Her chest felt tight. Too tight. It was difficult to breathe. She felt dizzy. Hop refused to look at her. Her cereal, having turned into an unappetizing soggy slop, sat half-eaten in front of her. She stared at it as the pounding of her heart clouded her mind, her fingers clenched in the fabric of her pyjama shorts.

"Hop," Gloria asked again, "what happened?"

What did I do?

Hop's answer sounded far away. Like he was talking to her in a dream.

No, not a dream.

A nightmare.

"You kissed him."

Gloria couldn't breathe. "Haha, very funny Hop." She wasn't smiling. Neither was He.

"It… wasn't a joke."

It didn't make sense. Hop didn't make sense.

"What…?" She looked up from her cereal. "What do you mean it's not a joke? I didn't-"

Dread. She felt dread.

"I- there's no way I'd-" Gloria couldn't say it. "I wouldn't do that."

But she couldn't remember. Her memory, no matter how hard she tried, remained dark.

"I saw you kiss him," Hop said, looking away. He winced as he said it, knowing the pain his words inflicted on Gloria. The dagger he drove deeper into her heart.

"Are- Are you sure it was me? Not someone else?" The world was growing fainter around her. Words spilled from her lips in confusion, in desperation. Out of fear. "How do you know that I- that I did it and not… not Bede? Maybe he was the one who-" again, she couldn't say it. Caught on her tongue, she couldn't give that word a voice.

Hop grimaced. "No, it was definitely you who kissed Bede. You, uh, had your hand around the back of his head and… pulled him towards you."

Gloria's heart stopped dead. Shadows danced in the corner of her vision, creeping across her eyes. Her lungs burned, and only then did she realise that she'd been holding her breath. The world tilted beneath her. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. No words, no voice. Not the terror she felt crushing her heart.

"I'm sorry, Glo." Hop sounded far away. "I really am."

She shook her head slowly in disbelief. Eyes wide and unseeing, nothing made sense. She didn't see Hop move, hadn't noticed it, until he was right beside her, touching her shoulder gently. She let out a breath, a silent gasp.

"What… what do I do…?" Gloria asked. The words barely made a sound on her lips. If Hop hadn't been at her side, he wouldn't have heard her. Waves of heat built behind her eyes, blurring her vision with tears as panic took hold once again.

"What do you want to do?" Hop asked.

She closed her eyes as tears began to fall.

Nothing. She wanted to do nothing. She wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. Forget everything that happened. Forget that she-

She'd kissed Bede. Somehow, under the influence of alcohol, all her inhibitions had been swept away. All her fear had been reduced to dust. Somehow, her feelings for Bede had broken through.

A sob escaped Gloria's lips as she crumbled. Beneath the weight of her fear, she cried. Even though she couldn't remember it happening, she couldn't remember kissing Bede, she wished she could forget.

She wanted to forget it all.

"He knows," Gloria said in a broken whisper. She stole a breath, opening her eyes and rubbing away the tears on her cheeks. "There's no way he doesn't. Not after I… did that to him."

Hop gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "You don't know that for sure! You were drunk, remember? Bede might just think you kissed him on impulse!"

"Which is probably what happened," Gloria huffed. Then it hit her. "Oh, Arceus. What if I told him that I- that I like him…?"

Even saying that much made her wince. Admitting her feelings out loud left a vile taste in her mouth, and the very thought that she might have told Bede how she felt while drunk sent a ripple of terror through her body. The gap in her memory threatened to swallow her whole.

"Hey, don't think about the worst case scenario," Hop said, "and look, even if you did tell him, you've got an excuse! You were drunk."

"You don't turn into a completely different person when drunk, Hop." She shrugged off his attempt to reassure her. "It's bad enough that I… kissed him. But if I told him how I felt as well… no amount of excuses or backtracking will save me now."

Gloria exhaled heavily, deflating in her chair as if all her strength, all her willpower, had fled her body with her sigh. Her insides were twisted and jumbled, chest uncomfortably crawling with nerves.

"What am I supposed to do…?" she asked. There was no way forward for her, no way out of this. She was trapped.

"Call him," Hop said with a shrug. Gloria balked at him with an unappreciative stare. "You're gonna have to face Bede sooner or later," he reminded her. "May as well get it over and done with."

Gloria turned away from him. Hop was right, but that didn't help the rolling waves of nausea in the pit of her stomach, nor the dread hanging above her head like a guillotine ready to drop. She reached for her phone and paused.

She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to face Bede or her mistakes. How could she, when she despised the person that love - mixed with alcohol - turned her into? Gloria clenched her jaw and picked up her phone, focusing on the bead of disgust that burned in her stomach and the pain it caused. Love was vile. It corrupted. It fueled jealousy, fed delusions, made her see things that weren't there. Made her question herself- and her friendships.

And it left her vulnerable.

There was no point in waiting any longer. Gloria dialed Bede's number without another thought. She straightened in her chair, ignoring the surprise on Hop's face as he took a seat beside her, and listened to the ringing. Despite her determination to get this over and done with, nerves sparked to life in her chest. Her heart pounded. She jumped when a click sounded, and a sudden rush of warmth flooded her veins as Bede spoke into her ear.

"Hey, Gloria." His smooth voice washed over her, and for a moment, she forgot how to speak. "You got home in one piece, I assume? How are you feeling?"

Like her heart was in her throat.

"Not- Not too bad," Gloria said, "I slept most of it off, just got a mild headache now." She breathed a sheepish laugh as her mind spun, and tried to swallow the giddy feeling building inside her. A simple phone call was all it took for her walls to crumble, for her feelings to take over, for her to fluster at the sound of his voice.

Love. It turned her into someone she didn't recognise.

And that made her sick.

"Y-You said you wanted to talk?" she asked, trying to shove aside the flustered, love-struck side of herself, and felt the disgust still burning a hole through her stomach once again. The sharp sensation of pain flooded her mind with clarity. Heaviness returned to her gut. Regret, mixed with fear. A reminder of what she had done to him.

"I did," Bede said after a pause. "Although, I would rather we spoke in person. Are you busy right now?"

Gloria swallowed. She felt cold. Her nerves froze in place, trepidation seizing her heart.

Somehow, she remembered to answer him, remembered how to speak. "No, I'm free."

"Good. I'll come by soon, then."

Gloria closed her eyes, accepting her fate. Steeling herself to fight back tears. "Okay," she said. "I'll… see you soon."

"Bye, Gloria."

She hated - and loved - the way he said her name.

Gloria hung up without saying anything more. Hop watched her expectantly as she placed her phone on the table, and her heart sank into the pit of her stomach.

"He'll be here soon," she said. The dramatic shift in her emotions, from giddiness at Bede's voice to the hollow ache in her heart that she felt now, sapped the strength from her bones.

Hop kept watching her, his eyes searching her face. The concern in his eyes made her heart clench.

"I'll be fine," she said, though she didn't believe it. She stood from her chair, getting up to dump the rest of her soggy cereal into the sink. Her appetite was long gone.

"I know," Hop said quietly. "But you always say that."

Gloria felt his eyes on her back, knew the painful expression he wore. She breathed in slowly, before turning to face him with a smile. Hop's concern was so genuine, so heartfelt, that it threatened to shatter the mask she'd built to protect herself.

"I'll be fine," she said again. Firmer this time.

Hop's expression didn't change, and Gloria left him there as she retreated into her room, in part to change out of her pyjamas, but also because she couldn't bear to lie any further to Hop when he looked at her like that.

Minutes passed like hours. When Gloria spied movement on the street outside, she shot to her feet, yanking open the front door before Bede could knock. Nerves twisted inside her gut as she forced herself to smile. Keenly aware that Hop was watching her.

"Hey, Bede!" Gloria said, slipping out the door around his side, tugging the door closed behind her. "Why don't we go for a walk?"

She didn't give him much of a choice in the matter as she strode down the garden path and onto the street. Driven by nerves, her heart pounded in her chest like she'd sprinted to Wedgehurst and back. She wanted to run. To bolt again. Relationships, feelings, dealing with emotions like these was like trying to juggle handfuls of jelly. Scrambling to keep it from sliding through her fingers.

Gloria flashed Bede a smile, as bright as she could muster, as he stepped down the path towards her. This wasn't a battle she could fight, not a foe she could conquer with her Pokemon. She was on her own.

"You appear to have a lot of energy for someone with a hangover," Bede said, lifting an eyebrow at her.

His voice made her heart skip. "You should've seen me earlier," Gloria said. She hid the tension in her body behind her smile, behind her laughter. "I felt like I'd been barrelled over by a Wooloo!"

She started down the street, away from her house and the Slumbering Weald. Bede fell into step with her, and she stared straight ahead, not even daring to glance at him. The space between them felt infinitesimal. She sped up slightly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts so there was no chance their hands would accidentally brush, and Bede remained at her side, matching her pace.

"There's a nice spot down here by the lake," Gloria said. She turned abruptly and marched through the knee-high grass. Skwovet scattered into the trees, Rookidee fluttering away into the clear skies above. A Chewtle turned slowly as she passed it, mouth hanging open. If Bede wanted to talk about the very thing she dreaded, she wanted to be away from the public, away from Wedgehurst, away from Hop. The building tension inside her chest left the threat of tears in her eyes, and she swallowed thickly. She clenched her jaw, blinking hard. She couldn't cry now. Not when nothing had happened yet. But she felt like she was hanging by a thread. A split second, a single word away, from falling.

Bede caught up to her as she headed down a dirt path that wove away from Sonia's house, leading towards the lake. By the waters edge stood a single wooden bench, facing out across the shimmering surface of the lake. Wind rustled through the thick grass, a myriad of Pokemon calls filling the silence. Gloria swept towards the bench and plonked herself down on it unceremoniously. She sat - deliberately - as close to the edge of the bench as she could, leaving the majority of it empty. For this conversation, she wanted as much space between her and Bede as possible. Enough space for her to breathe, to think.

Whether Bede noticed how she'd seated herself or not, he gave no indication. He sat what would have normally been a comfortable distance away, and Gloria fought down the urge to stiffen at his proximity. Although it was only Bede with her, she felt like a thousand eyes were watching her every movement. Watching the way she breathed, shallow and tense. Noticing the tension in her posture. She couldn't hide here, not from Bede. When he turned to face her, her expression froze. He looked away.

And Gloria could no longer breathe. Words caught on her tongue, lodged in her throat. Her heart cantered away in her chest, faster and faster as seconds of silence ticked by. Her lips parted, but nothing came out. No sound, no air, as if an invisible vice had tightened around her throat.

"Elliott has been dealt with," Bede said, finally breaking the hold that the silence had on Gloria. "So you needn't worry about him any longer."

Elliott? Her gut churned at the mention of his name. She found herself straightening, confusion and curiosity drawing her gaze to Bede.

"What do you mean?" Gloria asked. "What happened?"

Bede, thankfully, kept looking out across the lake. "Ms Opal is acquainted with his father," he said, "and called in a few favours. From what I've heard, he's been stripped of multiple privileges, including his position at his father's company, and will be sent to his uncle's estate in Kalos for the foreseeable future."

Gloria blinked for a moment, stunned. "You mean he's…?"

"Gone." Bede nodded. "He'll be too preoccupied with mopping up his own scandal to cause any more with you. His father and Ms Opal made sure of that."

The tension Gloria had been holding in her chest fled all at once, and she sank into the bench in disbelief.

"I… thank you," she managed to say. It took a few seconds for Gloria to collect herself enough to speak properly. "You didn't have to do that for me… Ms Opal, too. I-I don't know what to say."

"'Thank you' suffices," Bede said, looking at her with a satisfied smile.

Her heart skittered. "Thank you," she said breathlessly. Their eyes met and Hop's voice echoed in her mind.

"You kissed him."

Panic returned. Gloria's heart lurched high up into her throat, her blood running cold. She cut her gaze away from Bede as crushing fear pressed down on her shoulders, on her lungs. The silence between them was deafening.

"Gloria, I wanted to-"

"I'm sorry!" The words stole from Gloria's throat on the back of a sob. Vision blurring with tears. "Hop- Hop told me what happened," she continued, fingers pressing against her lips to stop them from trembling, to stop her from sobbing again. "He told me what- what I did. To you." Her eyes closed in shame. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she took a deep, shaky breath. Fear was crushing her heart. "I'm so sorry," she said as a whisper. Faint and broken. "I was drunk and… and I don't even remember it. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

Gloria shuddered as she exhaled, feeling that pieces of her soul had broken away and fled with her breath.

"Please-" It caught on her tongue. "I just… don't want you to hate me…"

Bede straightened. "Why would I hate you?"

"Because I kissed you, Bede!" She turned to him, vision blurring with tears, facing her fears. "I forced myself on to you when you were just- just trying to help me, and… I did something so despicable to you…"

Again, she turned away. Closed her eyes and let the tears fall.

"I don't hate you for that," Bede said quietly. "Although I must admit I am a tad… confused."

Gloria swept the tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands, her breath hot in her throat, and looked at him. Bede stared at his hands in his lap, fingers woven together. His brow was furrowed ever-so-slightly in thought.

"Why did you kiss me?" he asked. His voice, as soft as the wind caressing his platinum blond curls, left Gloria numb.

She opened her mouth, finding she had no voice. She swallowed. Looked away. "I-I was drunk and I… don't actually remember k-kissing you, so… I don't know."

The gap in her memory of that night tightened the hold that fear had on her, like a string of razor wire wrapped around her heart. Piercing her flesh with every breath. It hurt to speak.

"You told me once that you'd only kiss someone you had feelings for," Bede continued, "and yet, last night you kissed-"

"-Don't." She saw nothing. Felt nothing.

Nothing but fear.

"Please." It was a plea. A desperate cry that escaped the hollow of her throat. "Please don't- don't say that. Don't ask me that. I can't-"

Tears. She felt them on her cheeks. Felt Bede's eyes on her.

"I can't…" her voice broke. Gloria shook her head, pressed her palms to her eyes, and blocked it out. She blocked everything out and shut down. Broken gasps escaped through her clenched teeth, each breath making her body shudder with agony. She curled into herself. Dug her elbows into her thighs as she doubled over. A gentle touch on her shoulder made her wince, and Bede took his hand back in an instant.

His touch had burned.

"I'm… sorry." Gloria barely heard Bede speak through the darkness encasing her mind. "I won't say anything more."

The regret in his voice hurt more than anything else. Gloria tried to steel herself, to fight back her tears and push through her fear, as a rush of shame surged through her chest.

She was the one who'd kissed him. She was the one who'd gotten drunk and forced herself on him. Didn't he deserve answers for that?

Gloria pulled her palms off her eyes and sat up straight, blinking up at the sky above in order to dry her tears. She sucked in a breath, then another, forcefully controlling how she exhaled. Slowly, slowly, easing the fear off her heart. Bede sat in silence beside her. Respectfully, he kept his gaze elsewhere as Gloria calmed herself down. When she felt as though she could finally speak, she laughed instead. That made Bede look at her in surprise.

"You know, everyone's always making a fuss about their 'first kiss,' making it out to be this big thing, something important," Gloria said with a rueful smile. "All that build up, and I can't even remember it." She shook her head, laughing quietly. Regret tainting her voice. "Can we just… forget this ever happened?" Gloria turned to look at Bede, trying hard to smile through the pain.

Bede's expression shifted as he met her eyes. There was worry, regret, and something more to the depth of his eyes as he mulled over her words.

"I'm not sure I can forget it that easily," he said.

The smile on Gloria's face threatened to break. She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I… I thought that would be the case…" She looked away from him. "Was that… was that your first…?"

"It was."

Gloria pursed her lips to stop them trembling. "I'm- I'm really sorry…"

"It's not a big deal," he said, shrugging half-heartedly. "It's just a kiss."

Gloria scoffed. "That's easy for you to say, I don't even remember it! It's like I haven't had my first kiss at all." She slumped on the back of the bench with a huff. "It would've been better if I did remember it, since then my first kiss would be over and done with and I wouldn't have to worry about it. I don't even know what it's like to- to kiss someone…"

She trailed off, remembering that she had, in fact, kissed Bede, even though she had no actual recollection of it. She let out a heavy sigh. Of course she'd kiss the one person she'd fallen for in her entire life and be unable to remember it happening.

"It's honestly not all it's cracked up to be," Bede said. "Really, if you think about it, all kissing is, is two people pressing their mouths together. The significance placed on kissing is out of proportion to the act itself."

Gloria curled her lips in frustration at him. "Says the one who can remember it," she huffed. "It's like I haven't had my first kiss at all…"

"But you have," Bede said. "You kissed me."

"W-Well, yeah." She blinked at him, nerves fluttering around her chest at how matter-of-factly he'd said that. "It just… seems a bit unfair that I had my first kiss and can't remember it, so it's like I've still got that importance attached to it."

She wasn't making much sense. She couldn't think straight with Bede's eyes on her, when talking about this. About kissing.

She'd really kissed him. That alone was astounding, it was difficult to believe. But it had happened. Gloria had kissed Bede. She curled a lock of her hair behind her ear as she tried to push those thoughts away, feeling her cheeks begin to burn.

"I kinda feel like I've missed out here," she said to fill the silence. Gloria laughed sheepishly, aiming to lift the awkward air between her and Bede. When she looked at him, her eyes immediately flicked to his lips.

She looked away quickly.

"Do you want to know what it's like?" Bede's voice washed over her like soft ribbons of silk, each word stealing the air from her lungs. "You said you'd rather get your first kiss over and done with…"

Somehow, Gloria managed to peek over at him. The depth of his eyes stirred something inside her. Something warm, something that built in the pit of her stomach and flooded her veins.

"I…" She struggled to remember how to speak. "I mean, since I've technically already had my first kiss, it would be better to, y'know, get it over and done with so I don't have to worry about it anymore. Just- Just so I know what it's like." Gloria cleared her throat. Her eyes kept flicking towards his lips, yet it was harder to hold his gaze when he was looking at her like that. In a way she couldn't describe. "But- well, who knows when that will happen," she continued quickly with an awkward laugh. "Or if it ever will."

"Do you want to?"

Gloria gaped at him. For a moment, she wasn't sure that she heard him correctly.

"Do- Do I want to… what?" she asked. Her voice was quiet. Barely louder than a breath.

Bede seemed closer to her than before. His gaze was captivating, and she couldn't look anywhere else but into his eyes, as though trapped by those deep, alluring violets. Bede seemed immune to whatever hold Gloria was under, searching her eyes for a moment in silence.

"If you'd rather get your first kiss over and done with," Bede said, "I could kiss you."

She felt his words against her lips. Heat consumed every fibre of her body, and she couldn't breathe. Her mouth dropped open, fumbling over her words, scrambling for a way to answer him.

Did she want to-?

"I… but you…?" Her mind was addled. Her lungs felt like they were full of helium, filled to the brim with too much air. Was he really offering to…?

"You've already kissed me," Bede reminded her. His tone was light, and without accusation. Merely staring a fact. "And since you don't remember what it was like, if you want, I can show you. You've had your first kiss- all I'll do is repeat it."

How could she answer him? Gloria had her hands clenched tightly together in her lap, unable to find any words. It didn't feel real. All she could do was nod. Something shifted in Bede's eyes. His gaze softened, deepened, and Gloria startled when he trailed his fingers across her cheek.

"Tell me to stop," Bede said, his voice soft yet lower than before, "if you don't want this."

Gloria found herself nodding again, though she couldn't think straight. She felt his knees brush against hers. His fingers wove into her hair.

"This- This won't change anything between us, right?" she asked quickly. She sounded far away, distant and strangely light.

Bede's answer dusted across her lips. "Not if you don't want it to."

He was close enough that looking into his eyes made her dizzy, noses almost brushing. Their breaths mingled together in the shortening distance between them.

"Close your eyes," Bede said, and she obeyed instinctively. Her eyes fluttered shut the second he kissed her. A quiet gasp died in her throat. Her mind span. She leant into him, against him, as he slowly melded his lips against hers.

And oh, she knew she shouldn't be doing this, she shouldn't be kissing him like this, but the warmth of his kiss took hold of her in an instant, and everything else fell away. Her fear, her regret, nothing else mattered to her in that moment. She forgot to breathe. Forgot her inhibitions. The sensation of Bede's lips gliding over hers was all she could feel. How could he say that kissing didn't live up to the hype when it felt like this? Like she was walking on air, floating, giddy and breathless. Even though she didn't know what she was doing, she followed each and every movement of Bede's lips with her own. She was putty in his hands, melting against his lips. Melting into him. The softest moan spilled from her throat as Bede suddenly broke away from her, leaving her stunned. She blinked in a daze. The world was fuzzy around her. Her lips tingled with a sensation she'd never felt before, warmth pooling low in her gut.

It was like waking from a dream. Bede cleared his throat, turning to face the lake, while Gloria's mind began to slowly work again. Clarity hit her in an instant. Then embarrassment. Like a clap of thunder, it jolted her alert, and she flushed. Her fingers touched her lips, unable to comprehend what had just happened. What they'd just done.

Gloria could still feel Bede's lips against hers, so warm and gentle, featherlight yet firm. He'd kissed her.

Bede had-

Arceus. There was no going back now.

"Was that… sufficient?" Bede asked, needing to say something, anything, to break the heated silence suffocating him. He didn't dare look towards Gloria, knowing fully well that he mirrored the blush that burned across her cheeks.

Gloria jumped at the sound of his voice. "Y-Yes, it- it was," she managed to reply.

"That's… good." He cringed internally at how strained and tight his voice sounded. Gloria appeared stunned, unable to stay focused on anything around them as she glanced from him to the lake, to her hands in her lap, and then off to the path they'd followed to get here.

Bede took a breath and tried to calm the racing thoughts in his mind. He'd kissed her. Somehow, his desires had gotten the best of him and he'd offered to kiss her, and Gloria had agreed to it. He'd kissed Gloria becaused she'd let him.

Gloria, who refused to fall in love, who'd sworn she'd never kiss someone she wasn't dating, had agreed to let him kiss her so she knew what it was like.

It was like Bede's insides had been turned upside down and back to front. He was in disbelief, in shock, wondering again and again if that had really happened. All it took was a single glance towards Gloria, and he had his answer. Their eyes met and her whole body twitched. Her blush doubled in intensity, mouth dropping open, her gaze flicking to his lips for a split second before she deliberately looked elsewhere. Heat trickled down Bede's spine at her reaction.

Arceus. Who knew he'd ever have this affect on her? He could still feel a memory of Gloria's lips against his, and his heart skipped as she, again, touched her fingertips to her lips.

"Gloria," Bede began, and she jolted, spinning to face him.

"Y-Yes?" she squeaked loudly.

Bede fought the giddy smile off his face, smothering the rush of pride he felt at gaining such a delightful reaction from her.

"Nothing needs to change between us," he continued, "like you said. Alright?"

Gloria nodded emphatically. "O-Of course!" Her eyes remained wide, her expression stunned, and it made Bede smile. Warmth towards her blossomed in his chest.

"Now do you see what I mean when I said it would be hard to forget?" he teased.

"Mm…" She pressed her lips together, looking away quickly. Her gaze was distant and forceful, as though she was tossing over something in her mind. He longed to ask her, to delve into whatever it was that had her so torn, but the way she'd fractured before him when he asked why she'd kissed him made him push his questions aside.

The wound of Gloria's that he'd thought had healed into a scar was still raw. It ran deep.

No, Bede was a fool to have assumed otherwise. She was still protecting herself. Building up walls in a desperation Bede had felt himself long ago. Like a wounded Pokemon, cowering at the slightest noise, he knew why she reacted the way she did.

After a moment, Gloria managed to look at him and hold his gaze. He offered up a smile as he stood.

"Shall we head back?" he asked, holding out a hand to her. A gesture of goodwill. Of hope, that things were still the same between them.

Gloria looked at his hand, her eyes widening a fraction, before she took it. The smile she gave him was warm, as though she'd untangled whatever it was she'd been struggling with a few moments earlier. Her hand fit snugly in his, and she gave it a squeeze.

"Let's go," she said.

Bede knew in that instant that, although they'd assured each other the opposite, something had, indeed, changed between them.

#bederia week 2021 #bede #gloria #dressedinpinkshipping #bederia #btyu #my writing

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Going to be fine (Biadore)- Chaoticnachokitten

A/N: Hey, I’m back^-^

This is for the lovely anon who requested this (sorry it took so long and that it's so short, I hope this still works for you😅)

Please note although it’s based off of real events, this is an AU where the Coronavirus doesn’t exist because I don’t want to write anything you should not be doing right now. Social distancing, everyone.

Summary: Bianca takes care of a sick Adore in a world where the Coronavirus doesn’t exist. Biadore friendship with fluff and h/c. That’s it.

This was probably worse than any hangover she had ever experienced. Adore groaned as her body finally got rid of the last of the water she had tried drinking to calm the nausea. A few tears of pure exhaustion made their way down her cheeks.

With difficulty she managed to get out of the position she had been in for…how long had it been? Too long, anyway. She proceeded to shakily close the toilet lid and flush. Deciding she didn’t have enough energy and feeling gross, she accepted her fate of staying in the bathroom until she either died or felt better, she let herself collapse against the nearest object and curled up, closing her eyes, trying to gather enough energy to take care of herself.

A bit of time passed, and she only seemed to be getting worse. Her body had gone from vomiting to even more painful dry heaving, which left her incredibly exhausted, and her temperature seemed to be changing constantly. One minute, she would be super hot, and a minute later she’d feel like she was outside in the snow.

This is where Adore drew the line, and she accepted the fact that she probably needed help from another person. Vomiting was worse for her than for most people, she was actually quite scared of it. The effects on her body were too much to handle. She was shaking, and feeling completely helpless, vulnerable and small.

She, however still didn’t really want to ask anyone as she didn’t want to make somebody else sick, in case whatever she had was contagious.

Suddenly Adore remembered that Bianca and her had been planning on doing something together in an hour as they were both in the same area which didn’t happen often at all.

Weakly she reached for her phone, which was right beside her, thank goodness, she typed out a message to Bianca, saying she couldn’t make it. Adore contemplated on whether or not to write that she was sick.

On the one hand, it was rude to cancel without any good reason and she should probably tell someone what was going on, but on the other hand, if she told her, Bianca would probably come over to take care of her, and Adore didn’t want to infect her. In the end she just ended up writing that she felt a bit under the weather.

A couple of minutes later, her phone rang and she accepted the call.

“Hey, do you want me to come over?”

Adore usually never missed an opportunity to see Bianca, so reading that message kind of worried the older queen.

“You don’t have to..” The younger queen was surprised at how raspy, tired and pathetic her own voice currently sounded and how it felt like razors were cutting her throat when she talked.

“Okay, now I definitely am, you kind of sound like you’re about to die.”

Adore dropped her (non existing) façade. “Feel like it too.”

“I’ll be over in about half an hour. Stay alive, alright?”

Adore nodded before realizing that this was a phone call. She whispered a tiny “Okay, thanks” and hang up. Her voice was completely fucked up by now and on top of that her throat was getting dry. The taste on her tongue was disgusting and acidic. She decided that being hydrated was not worth risking another round of throwing up, so she just closed her eyes, trying to ignore everything, including the stomach ache that was slowly creeping up and tried to go to sleep.

It was more difficult than expected. Although she was tired, she felt horrible and the hard, cold bathroom tiles weren’t helping either. Eventually though, she manage to drift away from her less-than-great reality.

Bianca arrived at Adore’s doorstep around 20 minutes later with a plastic bag in her hand, which contained medication and some water (She was convinced that all Adore probably had in her medicine cabinet was weed). She didn’t bother ringing the doorbell, and just used her spare key.

Once she was inside, she called for the younger queen, not getting a response.

She’s probably sleeping.

Bianca first looked in the bedroom, expecting to find Adore there, but that wasn’t the case. She left the bag in the room and continued searching. The next possibility was the bathroom.

Is she really sleeping in…here? Bianca shook her head, not really surprised, and kneeled down next to the younger queen, gently tapping her on the shoulder to wake her up with one hand while using the other one to pet Adore’s head. The younger queen didn’t look good at all, there were even dried tear streaks on her face. She didn’t want to shake Adore as she looked very pale, almost with a greenish undertone.

When Adore woke up, she was slightly disoriented and confused. Why was Bianca here?

“You did not actually sleep in here.”

Adore just shrugged, throat still hurting too much to really talk.

“Okay, come on, as comfortable the floor looks, I think being in bed would be better for you right now. I’m going to help you up, okay?”

Adore didn’t really want to get up. Not because she actually wanted to stay in the bathroom, but simply because she didn’t want to upset her stomach again. Thankfully Bianca was gentle while helping her into a standing position, even pausing for a few seconds whenever the younger queen seemed to be uncomfortable, making sure she was okay before continuing. Once Adore was actually standing up, Bianca used the opportunity to quickly but gently wipe off the younger queen’s tears with a wet paper towel, before attempting to get her into her bedroom.

The walk to said destination was slow and exhausting for both of them, Adore shaking and being focused on not dry heaving again while Bianca had to steady her, supporting Adore’s full weight.

Once they had made it, Adore let herself collapse into her bed, ready to sleep until evening would be back to normal. But of course her plans were interrupted by Bianca who insisted on taking her temperature (100.8, so not high enough to worry about) before trying to convince her to take some medication.

“I don’t really want to consume anything right now..”

“Well, I’m sorry baby, but that is not an option, unless you don’t want to get better.”

“What if it happens again though?” Adore cringed at the mere thought of that.

“Less painful than dry heaving. Come on, you know there’s no avoiding it.”

Adore admitted defeat and proceeded to take whatever was offered to her, trying to only drink as little water as necessary to get the pills down.

“Are you kidding me? You need more water, you’re probably dehydrated and dehydration is a real bitch which effects you don’t want to experience.” Despite her words, there wasn’t really a harsh sound to them.

Adore sighed dramatically and just did as she was told, but stopping as soon as she felt like it.

“That’s better. Now do you want me to leave or-"

Adore interrupted her with shaking her head, which she instantly regretted.

“Stay. And c'mere.”

Bianca thought about trying to explain that she didn’t want to get whatever Adore had, but decided that she was probably infected by now anyway in case it was contagious and laid down next to the younger queen.

Adore instantly cuddled up to her, closing her eyes, enjoying the warmth and already feeling a bit better. Everything was going to be fine. She managed to murmur one last important thing before drifting off to sleep.

“Thanks, I love you.”

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #bianca del rio #biadore #fluff #hurt/comfort #sick fic #chaoticnachokitten #tw vomiting #canon compliant

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yeenybeanies · 4 years

Text

A Little Tipsy

i was semi-productive, so i’m rewarding myself with self-indulgent nonsense. shoutout to the anons that suggested drunk!devin. not a whole lot of shenanigans, but it's still nice :>

arthur morgan & devin clarke ( oc )

1436 words

language & alcohol warnings

reblogs > likes!! feel free to leave comments in the tags!!

Borrowing is tough. Being a borrower and having to borrow is tough. Borrowers, of course, know this, and anyone lucky enough to know a borrower knows this. Being only a few inches tall comes with a countless many risks. Danger is everywhere; nearly everything is a threat.

Naturally, bearing all of that in mind, it would be completely asinine for a borrower to partake in certain human pleasures, such as gin or whiskey or ( the debatable pleasure ) moonshine. With intoxication comes lowered alertness and reaction time and coordination––all of which can be fatal to a wandering borrower. While it’s not typically a spoken rule that borrowers shouldn’t get drunk, that they should avoid the liquors and beers and wines humans so enjoy, it’s common sense.

And it is common sense. Devin has that common sense. They understand the logic. They really do.

But goddamn, everyone has moments of weakness. Even the most sensible of borrowers break sometimes. Well––Devin wouldn’t say they’ve broken; they’d say they’ve just . . . cracked a little. Temporarily. They’d say they deserve this little pleasure, even if it tastes awful. What’s a couple of drops from a toppled bottle of moonshine going to do? Who’s going to miss it?

Hindsight is sure to have a few words with Devin later, but, right now, they can’t stop giggling. It’s loud, too––loud enough for Arthur to hear them from under the wagon next to his bed. The gunslinger sits up, brows furrowed, and peeks through the wheel spokes. He knows the voice, of course, but he’s never heard them so . . . bubbly.

“ Devin . . .? ” Worry pricks his mind as he scans for the borrower. This is highly unusual behavior; Devin is not the kind to be noisy––especially not in the camp! “ Devin, what’re you doin’? Where’re you at? ”

“ ‘m over here, ” comes the tiny voice. Devin steps out from behind a crate, wobbly, still giggling. They grin up at him, and Arthur’s finds himself a little taken aback. He’s seen this plenty of times before in many a man and woman, in himself, but never in Devin.

The borrower’s drunk. They’re either drunk, or under some other form of intoxication. Arthur closes his journal with his pencil holding place for the drawing he’d been working on, and leans over, arm and hand through the spokes toward his friend. They lift one tiny boot, looking almost like they intend to step towards him, but their balance isn’t what it normally is, and they fall backwards, just out of Arthur’s reach. He curses a little under his breath and tries to push his shoulder more through the gap.

“ C’mon now, Devin. Work with me here. ” He tightens his jaw, face pressed against the wheel, but he can only manage to graze one of Devin’s boots with his middle finger. A few seconds more of scrabbling, and Arthur’s ready to try this from a different angle when he feels a pair of tiny hands hook onto the tip of his finger. That finger quickly flexes, pulling Devin up and close enough for his hand to gently wrap around them. Ever careful, Arthur lifts them from the ground and brings them to eye level. They’re still giggling. His heart aches with how sweet a sound it is.

“ Now just what did you get into? ” Fingers loosen a little with the borrower’s squirming, just enough for them to get their arms free, but not enough for them to wriggle out of his hold.

“ Arthur! ” They yell, and Arthur flinches, eyes wide. Devin stretches their arms out towards his face, their hands beckoning him. “ Come here. ”

“ I’m right here, Miss Dev––– ”

“ Closer, damn you! ” They beckon again, and Arthur is at a loss. He hesitates for a moment, then slowly brings the little being nearer to his face––close enough for him to catch a whiff of the alcohol on them.

“ Christ, Miss Devin, what’d you get into? Is that whiskey? ” Nose tipped up just a little, Arthur gives the borrower a sniff. They take an opportunity in the same moment, though, to freeze him right in his tracks. First they rest a hand on his lower lip, feeling across the ridged, sensitive skin; then they press their own lips to his upper lip. Arthur’s breath catches. He dares not move.

It’s got to be moonshine.

“ Mkay. ” They pat his chin after a few seconds, and he pulls them away from his face, looking more surprised and bewildered than ever. Oh, and he’s blushing. Of course, Devin is a little flushed in the face themself. They can’t suppress their giggles. “ Sorry, I––I dunno. First time I’ve, um, done anything like that. First time I’ve had moonshine too. ”

There it is. Moonshine.

Arthur’s fingers uncurl, and he brings his other hand up to cup securely under Devin. The corner of his mouth twitches upwards, despite his lingering fluster. He can’t smile, though! It quickly comes back to him that Devin is drunk. “ Miss Devin, I seem to recall you explicitly sayin’ that it’d be detrimental to your well-bein’ if you were to lose yourself like this. ” It’s not as harsh a scolding as perhaps he ought to give; it’s awfully hard to reprimand them when they’re so damn . . . cute. ( And they’re always cute, damn them. )

“ Don’t be mean to me, Arthur! ” God! Bless their heart. Arthur tightens his lips and sighs through his nose. “ I’ve . . . had a rough week. And I didn’t know it’d hit so fast. ” The giggles die down with Devin looking away, now quite somber in expression. So quick is the change that it almost gives Arthur whiplash.

“ Hey now . . .. Stuff’s bound to hit fast when ya weigh about as much as a ball a’ cotton. ” The gunslinger shifts his position, back now leaning against the wagon while he rests his hands on his stomach. “ Wanna tell me what’s got you so worked up to drinkin’? ”

“ Not really. I’m just . . .. ” They trail off and wipe their eyes. For a moment, Arthur thinks he can see a minuscule tear being brushed away, but he can’t be sure. There’s nothing of the sort when Devin looks back up at him, giving him a reassuring smile. “ I’ll be okay. Always am. Just had to . . . loosen up a bit. ”

Mission accomplished.

A thumb lightly brushes the borrower’s shoulder. They respond in kind with their hand to the pad, fingers rubbing over the rough whorls. Arthur doesn’t care much for the answer he got, but he isn’t going to push. If Devin wants to tell him, they will when they’re ready. In the meantime, since they’re with him now, they can safely enjoy their buzz.

“ Were you drawing? ”

“ Hm? ” Arthur glances down at the set-aside journal, page still kept with his pencil. “ Yeah. Writin’ down some thoughts, sketchin’ some things . . .. ” And again his cheeks warm.

“ Can I see? ”

Warmer still. Arthur clears his throat. With the hand not supporting Devin, he takes the journal and flips it open to the saved page, holding it to where they can see. It’s a little embarrassing to him. Their silence isn’t helping much either. There are a few scribbles across the span, among them a detailed sketch of Devin themself. Arthur’s drawn them smiling, relaxed and sitting on the edge of something with one leg hanging down. It’s really a nice drawing.

“ That’s . . . me? ” They blink, turning back around to look up at Arthur.

“ Yep . . . yeah. ” He can’t bring himself to meet their eyes. It’s not uncommon for Arthur to draw people in camp, or people he meets, but Devin isn’t some normal person. The time they spend together feels special, intimate. Arthur hadn’t ever asked if it would be okay for him to draw them. Someone else might see his journal and see those drawings ( not that he couldn’t just say he had a bit of imaginative inspiration ). He’s about to backpedal, maybe offer to tear out any drawings of them, but they interrupt him before he can speak again.

“ Do you have any more? ” Ah, they’re . . . blushing again. It seems they both have an uncanny ability to make each other red in the face. Arthur can’t help but smile as his fingers curl around them just a little bit more. They might be drunk, and that might be unwise, unsafe; it might warrant a scolding later on, once they’ve sobered up ( if the subsequent hangover isn’t going to be punishment enough ), but at least they’re here with him, where he can protect and watch over them. Damn. They sure wormed their way right into Arthur’s heart, softening the stone-cold gunslinger right up.

“ Sure I do. Here, I’ll let’cha see. ”

#g/t #g/t writing #g/t fiction #rdr #arthur morgan #g/t rdr #devin clarke #hyena writes #hyena ocs

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ayla-221bee · 4 years

Text

In The Most Delightful Way-Mystrade Fic Drabble ‘The Elephant.”

The door closed with a loud thud and the silence that crashed over the flat felt suffocating.

It felt almost physically painful to allow Mycroft to leave his flat and watch him slip into a black car that was parked in the street. It felt as if it was the most stupid decision that he had ever made, letting Mycroft go. He would have chased after him in his dressing gown and talk to him in the street in the attempt to make things better.

As much as he was prepared to run out in the street, Greg forced himself to stay in the flat. He gripped his fingers on the edge of the wooden kitchen chair until his knuckles turned white and his fingers started to ache. He gripped onto the chair for dear life as if that would stop him from following Mycroft. He knew that Mycroft needed time to think and process what happened between them last night. He knew that Mycroft also needed the space to think and to nurse the hangover. He also knew that there was no point in trying to talk to Mycroft when he only had half a cup of tea in him, Mycroft needed at least three cups of tea before he could even deal with another human being. It had been one of the first things that he had discovered when he stayed with Mycroft after the divorce, he wasn't that much better himself and needed at least of two large mugs of coffee to function.

Greg put his head in his hands and sighed. He tried his best to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he had messed things up terribly and had completely ruined thier friendship, he had little idea how to salvage the pieces. He did not even know if he could even pick up the tatters and patch things up.

He knew that the two of them had overstepped the boundaries of their friendship. The two of them had been toeing the line for the last few weeks. He had been testing the waters by flirting and Mycroft seemed to respond to it well. Mycroft invited him to dinner or out for drinks at posh restaurants and swanky clubs regularly. They did not always go out for dinner or drinks, Greg often found himself coming over to Mycroft's home and he was content to spend the evening with a takeaway and a DVD. They could talk about anything with ease and conversations flowed smoothly, only stopping in the late hours of the evening or the early hours of the morning.

Greg had tried to ignore his feelings for Mycroft but it had been difficult to suppress them. He almost felt like a teenager again with how smitten he was for him. He hadn't felt those fireworks or the butterflies in his stomach in years and he had almost been convinced that his wife had taken them away from him among with other bits and pieces of his life that she had taken from him in the divorce.

Greg switched on the radio in the attempt to tune out the niggle in his brain that told him that he had possibly ruined everything. He did wonder if he had let himself get too caught up when he thought that he saw the hint of a green flag from Mycroft. He did not intend for last night to happen...It just happened.

He planned to tell Mycroft how he felt...then the scotch happened. The first glass of scotch was for Dutch courage, he had always been terrible when it came to talking about his feelings and he felt that he was taking a risk when it came to Mycroft. A massive risk and he needed all the bravery that he could get.

The classic film that Mycroft brought with the bottle of scotch was ignored that night. The conversation flowed as much as the alcohol and the two of them were pleasantly tipsy. There was one moment when Mycroft was laughing at a stupid joke that he told, a genuine laugh. It was a sound that Greg loved even if Mycroft was embarrassed by it, especially when he let out a snort. He enjoyed the knowledge that he was one of the few people who could get a genuine laugh out of Mycroft and he made it a mission of his to get Mycroft to laugh.

The laughter suddenly stopped and there was a look between them.

It was with that look that Greg allowed himself to ignore the nerves that had been bothering him all evening. He did not say any of those words that he was wanting to say for months, the words could not make their way out of his mouth. Instead of attempting to get the words out, he leaned across the sofa and kissed Mycroft.

It was only a small kiss that lasted for a moment, it could have been passed off as a drunken mistake. Mycroft let out a surprised noise, it was almost a squeak. He had never heard Mycroft make a noise like that in the years that he had known him and before he could apologise, Mycroft climbed onto his lap and kissed him as if his life depended on it.

It bothered him more than it should have when Mycroft told him that the evening before was a mistake. Greg knew that sleeping together had crossed the boundaries of friendship massively and it would be difficult to get back to the way things were before. He wanted to talk about it and address the elephant that was wedged in between them, he finally dared to do so. He knew that Mycroft would do his best to ignore the elephant for as long as he could and brush the whole thing off as a drunken mistake in the attempt to keep things relatively normal between them.

The problem with ignoring the elephant was that it was rather difficult to avoid tripping over its trunk.

Greg had the nagging suspicion that Mycroft was avoiding him.

His calls had gone unanswered and the majority of the text messages that he sent had been ignored.

It was hardly anything unusual, he understood the unpredictable nature of Mycroft's work and how Mycroft sometimes took time to get back to him. It was hardly anything suspicious but was rather convenient that Mycroft was suddenly ignoring his phone calls. Greg tried to not let it bother him, even if it was bloody difficult. The silence from Mycroft seemed to hammer in the fact that what happened was a mistake, that they had crossed the line far too much and ended a wonderful friendship.

As much as it would hurt and possibly make things worse between them, Greg wanted to talk about what happened. He knew that there was a good chance that he wouldn't get the result that he wanted but he felt that it was better to be rejected and clear the air between them. Greg disliked unfinished business and having to ignore any elephants. If they talked, they would be able to attempt to put that evening behind them and move on.

As he knew that Mycroft suffered from three centuries of British emotional repression, Greg tolerated the near silence from Mycroft for three days. He knew that Mycroft needed the space to think and Greg was willing to give it to him. He doubted that Mycroft had been in a situation like theirs before and needed the time to figure out what he wanted or at least clear his head enough to talk about it.

After three days, Greg had decided that he was bored with waiting and that he was fed up of Mycroft avoiding him.

Greg’s patience had grown thin after three days of near-silence from Mycroft. He had tried his best to get into contact with Mycroft and check up on him and reassure him that things were fine between them. Mycroft replied to those messages and only gave him a short answer of ‘I’m fine but currently busy’, it was the same message each time that he received each morning.

He knew that Mycroft was not busy and was avoiding him. He knew that Mycroft had actually taken a week of holiday from work, he had been the one to convince him to take some time off work. He had done the same and taken some well-earned time off to spend time with his niece. He and Mycroft had talked about having a day out of London together. He had been looking forward to getting London out of his lungs and doing a bit of sightseeing for weeks. After what happened that night, it had become clear that they would not be going.

Greg had never taken well to be ignored especially from someone who he cared about so deeply. He wanted to break the silence that had grown between them and he wanted to make things right. He knew that ignoring the elephant was not going to make it leave, letting grow would only damage their friendship even more than what happened that night.

The receptionist behind the counter hardly batted an eyelid when Greg had walked into the Diogenes that afternoon. He barely had time to flash her his card before she wordlessly directed to him to Mycroft’s private room before she pressed a button on her desk and turned back to her newspaper.

Greg had the privilege of being one of the few ‘strangers,’ who were allowed in the Diogenes Club and he was not restricted to the ‘stranger’s room,’ unlike most visitors to the club. He was a regular visitor to Mycroft’s private office in the club and regularly joined Mycroft for lunch or if he wanted to chat on his break at work. He visited frequently enough that he could just walk into the Club without even showing his pass and he often walked into Mycroft’s office without even knocking.

Greg always hated the silence of the club and the fact that no one acknowledged another. He always had the urge to break the silence in the club. He always had the urge to break some of the expensive decorations or to pull down the curtains. He had the childish urge to shout rude words to see if they echoed off the wooden panelling on occasion, he restrained himself from doing so in the fear of giving one of the stuffy pensioners of the club a heart attack, going by the way they acted when he rustled a newspaper too loudly.

Greg invited himself into Mycroft’s office once he had knocked on the door. He hesitated by the door for a moment and he tried to summon up the courage to confront Mycroft. He did not even feel that angry that there had been near silence for Mycroft, he almost felt hurt that Mycroft had avoided him.

He could understand Mycroft’s fears of their friendship being ruined because of the evening. He feared about losing their friendship as well, he considered Mycroft to be his best friend. He would have laughed at the suggestion of Mycroft Holmes being his closest friend all those years ago. He had thought that Mycroft was a bit of a posh toff when he met him, but Greg was so pleased that he was wrong when he got to meet the real Mycroft Holmes. The Mycroft Holmes who enjoyed classic films and liked My Fair Lady, the Mycroft Holmes who had a massive sweet tooth. Mycroft Holmes who had always been there for him and let him stay in his flat after the divorce and had even taken him on a holiday up to Scotland in the attempt to cheer him up.

He knew that he would be lost without Mycroft in his life and it would not be a happy existence without him in it.

Mycroft closed the file that he was reading and placed it on the table as Greg walked in. He stood up and offered his hand as if it was a business meeting. “How are you, Greg?” Mycroft asked as if everything was fine. “Can I offer you tea? Coffee?”

Greg ignored the tea trolley and folded his arms across his chest, refusing to sit down once Mycroft had gestured to the chair. “You can’t just avoid me for three days and then offer me tea,” Greg grumbled.

“Shall I offer you something stronger then?” Mycroft asked with a raised eyebrow, a tone of amusement in his voice. “I have the feeling that we might require something stronger than tea to get us through this conversation, hopefully, we will not make any mistakes this time.”

Mycroft poured two glasses of scotch before he sat down in his chair. He attempted to make small talk in an attempt to avoid the elephant in the room. It was nervous chatter as Mycroft murmured on about the latest political gossip and mentioned something about the mating habits of snails or some other dry topic that Greg’s brain could not process as he tried to figure out the words to say.

He did not know what he wanted to say or how to say what was on his mind. He thought that the direct approach was the best way to deal with the matter. “You know that ignoring this is going to make things worse?” Greg asked. “The elephant is not going to disappear if you ignore it enough or avoid me.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and tried to keep a neutral expression on his features even if he did look somewhat sheepish. “What are you wanting to talk about?” Mycroft eventually asked. “What is the point in discussing a mistake?”

Greg allowed himself to sit down and reluctantly accepted the glass that was offered to him. “What happened that night was not a mistake for me…I did not plan for things to go the way that they did, but I don’t regret it. ”

Mycroft had a puzzled expression on his face, it would have been endearing in any other situation. He picked up his glass and admired the amber liquid in the light in the attempt to avoid looking at him. “We do not have to talk about it, I understand that it was a mistake. I’ve accepted it,” Mycroft eventually murmured. “You do not have to lie to me to spare my feelings.”

Greg shook his head and he let out a quiet laugh. “I know that you are one of the smartest blokes in the world and you can do the deduction thing, but you can’t read my mind. You can’t tell me what I think or feel about what happened,” he said. “I thought that you trusted me enough to know that I would never lie to you.”

Mycroft looked as if he wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up. “I do trust you,” Mycroft eventually managed to utter out.

Greg nodded and thought for a long moment before he spoke. He allowed himself to have a sip of scotch for some Dutch courage. He doubted that he would be able to talk without it or address the elephant, there was no easy way to go about the matter. “It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way about me,” Greg finally managed to say. “I would rather you said something to me than avoided me. That is not the right way to go about things.”

Mycroft opened up his mouth to speak but quickly closed it again. He seemed to be in deep thought and seemed to be choosing his words carefully, often he would shake his head to himself. “What are you thinking about?” Greg asked.

Mycroft did not say anything for a long moment, and he seemed to be in deep thought, a defeated expression on his face and just looked lost on what to say. “Greg, I can assure you that I am not what you want,” Mycroft managed to finally utter out. “It has been difficult to come to terms with it over the years but…I know what is best. I refuse to damage our friendship over a mistake.”

“You can’t tell me what I want or who I fancy,” Greg grumbled, he downed the rest of his drink and stood up. “I understand that you needed some space to think as you are seriously emotionally constipated and have the emotional range of a teaspoon. I do refuse to sit here and let you tell me what I want after you avoided me.”

He started to make his way to the door before he sighed and turned around to face Mycroft. “You know that avoiding me and not talking about things will make things worse,” he said, pointing at Mycroft. “Avoiding me will do more damage to our friendship than you being tied to my headboard. I thought that we were mates and we could talk about things, Mycroft.”

His comment seemed to ignite a fire in Mycroft, who stood up and placed a hand on the door to stop him leaving. Greg suddenly wondered if he was possibly going to get exiled for what he said, he doubted that many people could call Mycroft Holmes ‘emotionally constipated,’ or tie him to the headboard with his tie, (which Greg did with Mycroft’s instance,) without being exiled. He did hope that if things did come to that, then Mycroft would send him somewhere where it wasn’t too cold.

“I do apologise for avoiding you. I am deeply sorry,” Mycroft murmured. “Please stay, Greg.”

Greg blinked and did not trust his ears, not believing that Mycroft had apologised and said ‘please,’ to him. “Your friendship means the world to me, Greg, and I would simply hate to lose it,” he said quietly. “I would like to talk about how to mend things between us.”

With little hesitation, Greg removed his coat and folded it on the arm of his chair. He did not know what to say to break the silence. He had the feeling that Mycroft was as lost as he was.

“I hope that your tie was not too wrinkled,” Greg eventually managed to say, using the first thought that came into this head. “I did not expect you to be into things like that, it was surprising.”

Mycroft’s ears went pink, he cleared his throat and seemed rather lost for words. “ How do you suppose that we move on from this?” Mycroft eventually managed to force out, his voice tight. “I would hate to lose out friendship over this mistake.”

“Do you think that it was a mistake?” Greg asked quietly. “Please be honest.” Mycroft nodded and seemed to take careful consideration with each word he spoke. “I do not regret spending the night with you…It is just that I am not what you want. There are other people who are better suited to you and they will make you happier. I’m just a blip between you and that person.”

Mycroft fiddled with the glass in his hand and avoided looking at him once more. “It has been difficult to accept over the years, but it is for the best.”

Greg shook his head and let out a laugh that surprised Mycroft. “What happens if you are the person who makes me happy?” Greg asked. “I should have said something sooner and I had always assumed that you were not interested in me.”

“I am not sure that I understand what you are trying to say,” Mycroft said shaking his head as if he had said something outrageous. He looked at him as if he had grown a third head and Mycroft seemed to have shrunk in his chair. The confidence that he normally wore around him had left him and what remained was a shy shell of Mycroft Holmes. It broke Greg’s heart to see him like that. “I am not sure if you are joking. ”

“The biggest mistake for me was letting you leave my flat,” Greg said before Mycroft could insist that he had made a mistake. He reached over the chair and gabbed Mycroft’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I should have said something or figured out somehow to keep you there, kept you tied to the bed.” He attempted to joke, Mycroft gave him a shy smile in return. “I don’t have much to offer, but I will try my best to make me happy. I will do my absolute best to do so.”

“I do think that there is a good chance that the two of us will work, I'm sure of it. Only if you want to give things a shot?” he said with total honesty. “ We are far from perfect when it comes to this sort of thing, but there is something between us, you can hardly deny it.” Greg ran his hand through his hair and suddenly wished that he was better at this sort of thing or he had another glass of courage in him.

“I could be the person who makes you happy. I know that you are not expert on this sort of thing and I am not an expert with relationships,” Greg said. “I do think that we can make things work between the two of us, there will be a lot to work on and we’ve both got our baggage. “

“You do make me happy,” Mycroft stated, his eyes finally meeting his own. “That is why I am not wanting to risk anything. There is a good chance that things will not work out between us and we lose everything.“

“Do you have a crystal ball in the office?” Greg asked, pretending to look around the room for the object, much to Mycroft’s confusion. “ I never knew that you could predict the future, Mycroft,” he said in response to the puzzled look that Mycroft gave him.

“ There is also a good chance that things will work out, there is a risk when it comes to everything in this world. You can’t just sit on the side-lines all the time, Myc. You don’t get that many chances of happiness in the world and you need to grab them with both hands. ” Greg put on his coat and started to make his way to the door, he pressed a chaste kiss on Mycroft’s cheek. “I’ll see you later, alright? Please don’t avoid me.”

Mycroft stood up and seemed to take what he said with great consideration. Greg was almost convinced that he was about to escort him out of the club. Instead, Mycroft stood awkwardly by the door for a long moment, shuffled on his feet and picked up his coat.

“Where are you going?” Greg asked, a confused expression on his face. “Are you going to escort me out of this office. As I am going to be pissed-“

It was an unexpected kiss from Mycroft that stopped Greg from finishing off his sentence. It was clumsy and their noses clashed together, the doorknob pressed awkwardly into Greg’s lower back as Mycroft pressed him into the wall.

It was awkward and somewhat perfect at the same time.

Mycroft reluctantly pulled back and straighten out his tie, a sugar pink blush was on his cheeks. “I do apologise, I rarely do anything impulsive. I hope that you did not mind too much.”

Greg shook his head and tried to catch his breath. “Impulsive is brilliant, I don’t mind in the slightest.”

Mycroft fiddled with the lapels of his jacket and tried to straighten them out from when he grabbed them. “I was wanting to know if you would like to join me for some dinner?” He asked. “I am very aware that kissing you was not the best way to ask. I know that it cannot make up for my actions. ”

“That is a very convincing way of asking me,” Greg replied with a grin. “If you really want to make it up to me, how about that day out? It feels a shame to waste a week of holiday.”

He received a rare grin from Mycroft, the smile on his face made him look considerably younger and carefree. Greg was sure that it was his favourite expression on Mycroft’s face and nothing could change his mind.

“We can discuss it over dinner,” Mycroft beamed. “Perhaps we can make it longer than a day out? In an attempt to make up for three days?”

Greg raised an eyebrow and gave Mycroft a coy smile. “We could skip dinner and we can just go back to my place? Only if you want to?”

Mycroft practically dragged him out of the Diogenes Club.

#mystrade fanfic #Mycroft Holmes #mystrade #mycroft and greg #Mycroft #mycroft and lestrade #Mycroft x Lestrade #Sherlock #fic drabble #writing prompt #sherlock BBC #bbc sherlock #Sherlock fandom

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hunnydieu · 4 years

Text

also note to self alcohol is never a good substitute for weed just spend the same amount on some gd joints ffs

#avoid the stomache aches and risk of hangover #weed is superior to alcohol as a means for me to not be sober #also my insomnia is so much worse without weed wtf #ive been cutting back so i can get lit af on my bday but damn i dont wanna wait that lonnnngggg #lmao long like its literally less than a week im just a baby #i live right by a dispensary y do i do this to myself

0 notes

btssavedmylifeblr · 6 years

Text

DNA - Part Eight

Genre: futuristic dystopian smut and angst

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 4164 (Part Eight of Ten)

Summary: Jungkook had one job: Reproduce. Competition for stud services was fierce, so efficiency was key. Love is inefficient.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Warnings: angst, men and women used for breeding, Jungkook has a hangover

Every part of Jungkook ached. There was a pounding so loud in his head, it felt like it was coming from inside his own brain. He curled in on himself, regretting all of his life choices. His tongue made a rasping velcro sound as he tried to unstick it from the roof of his mouth. His lips were dry and he had no moisture to wet them. He felt dried out, greasy and disgusting. The dull pounding in his skull continued as he cracked opened one eye. He saw the bottom of Jimin’s bunk in front of him and was relieved he was waking up in his own bed. Jimin and Taehyung must have brought him back here after their failed adventure last night. The pain in his head worsened as memories of the previous evening came back to him.

She must be gone by now. She’s no doubt been shipped off, sent over to the prenatal facility to give birth to yet another child of his that he would never meet. He’d gotten drunk and fucked up his last chance to see her before she left. And he’d probably never see her again.

Or maybe she’d been gone long before that. Jungkook grimaced as he remembered the revelations of the previous evening. Maybe she’d never felt the connection he did. Maybe she was in love with the head breeder, as the gossipy cow had implied. That didn’t feel right to him though. Maybe he was still a bit drunk, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t shake the feeling that she had genuinely cared for him.

He lay in bed, holding his head as he wrestled with the possible interpretations of last night’s discovery. What was her relationship with the tall blonde breeder? He remembered the informal way she had called him Namjoon which seemed incriminating now. But she said he had rushed her into the program. What kind of sick fuck rushes his girlfriend into a program to be impregnated by other men?

A knock on the door sent a jolt of pain through him and he discovered that the pounding wasn’t only in his head. He tried to call out to make it stop, but only a hoarse gurgling sound came out. He sat up, but that made everything worse, so he lay back down, cradling his head to prevent it from splitting in half.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung shouted from beyond the door. “Jungkook! I know you’re in there.”

Jungkook couldn’t muster the strength to respond and just pulled the blanket over his head, hoping to drown out the knocking.

“You need to get up.” The breeder pounded on the door again, louder. “Sperm count.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jungkook grumbled as he swung his legs out of the bed. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he called so Taehyung would stop the terrible noise. It took him another few minutes to summon the energy to stand. Being on his feet made everything hurt more and he felt like he might vomit.

When he finally managed to open the door, he was nearly blinded by the neon yellow scrubs the breeder was wearing. He decided that if he did need to vomit, it would definitely be on Taehyung, just so he’d never wear these atrocities again.

“Sperm count!” the breeder said, louder than he needed to, smirking at the way Jungkook winced at the sound.

“Now?” Jungkook moaned. “I just did one last week.”

“Look, I’m not the one who barfed on camera three times last night,” the intern chuckled, patting him on the shoulder and forcing a cold bottle of water into his hands.

“Three?” Jungkook asked as he cracked open the water bottle. He could only remember two.

“Yeah,” Taehyung chuckled. “You might want to avoid Jimin today.”

Jungkook grimaced. Somewhere in the back of mind, he remembered that he owed Jimin some new shoes.

“Come on stud,” the breeder laughed. “Let’s go get you checked out.”

Had Jungkook not been so hungover, he would have been more apprehensive about the random sperm check. Drinking was against the rules, but the breeders tended to turn a blind eye if your count held up. Fail the count though and you would face a week with no cows. Fail two in a row and you were out.

The cold water bottle was the best thing that had happened in weeks and he sipped it gratefully on the walk to the labs, thinking that a week of probation might actually be a relief.

When they got to the lab, Taehyung gestured for him to take a seat on the exam table as the breeder began rustling through drawers and pulling out supplies. Jungkook sat down, reached under his robe and began stroking himself, readying a semen sample. He had long ago lost all shame about masturbating in front of the breeders. Bulls and cows fucked in front of the breeders too, so he didn’t see the the point in pretending they had any modesty left.

Jungkook’s bigger concern was whether or not he could even produce a sample today. Every muscle in his body ached and he felt completely drained. He stared down at his flaccid penis. It looked like it had given up too.

“That won’t be necessary,” Taehyung said as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves, and sat down on a rolling stool.

“You said you needed a sperm count.”

The breeder coughed, covering his mouth with his elbow, not looking at the stud. “I have your sample for today.” He jerked his chin in the direction of a sample jar on the counter that was already full. The slight blush that colored the breeder’s cheeks clued the stud into where the sample had come from.

“What?” Jungkook shook his head, his brain all foggy and confused.

“Don’t worry about it,” Taehyung chuckled, pushing on Jungkook’s shoulder to get him to recline back onto the exam table. “It’s not hard to do.” He laughed as he straightened out Jungkook’s arm. “Make a fist.”

The breeder grabbed a tourniquet from the table of supplies and wrapped it around the stud’s upper arm, palpating the crook of his elbow, feeling for veins. The studs had so many blood draws that Jungkook knew this routine perfectly. His prominent veins always made it a quick process, so he didn’t mind much. Taehyung found one quickly and inserted the needle. But instead of reaching for the blood vials, the breeder reached for a long piece of plastic tubing connected to a large yellow bag.

“What’s that?” Jungkook lifted his head to look at the new contraption, then winced in pain as his headache roared back.

“Banana bag,” the breeder replied, brows drawn in concentration as he attached the tubing to the needle in Jungkook’s arm, making sure the IV was seated properly before pulling off the tourniquet. “For dehydration.” Jungkook raised his eyebrows, not understanding. “For your hangover, you doofus.” The breeder laughed, patting the stud’s arm.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” the stud wondered aloud. He never would have thought a breeder would be this kind to him. The intern was taking an awful lot of risks lately for a stud who had caused him nothing but trouble.

“I need your help.” The breeder dropped his voice as he rolled his chair closer.

Jungkook nodded sleepily, closing his eyes, already beginning to feel better as the fluids and electrolytes from the IV flooded his system. He’d do whatever this man wanted as long as he could stay hooked to this miracle bag.

“Don’t fall asleep on me.” Taehyung poked his arm. “We need to talk.” Jungkook nodded some more, but already felt himself falling asleep. “2050 is still here.”

Jungkook’s eyes flew open. He tried to sit up, but Taehyung held him back with a hand on his shoulder.

“Just listen,” the breeder insisted. “Something weird is going on.” The breeder leaned in even closer, so he was speaking close to Jungkook’s ear. “She’s pregnant. I ran her blood test this morning.”

Jungkook felt a familiar ache in his stomach. That was his child. Their child. But if she was pregnant, that meant she’d be leaving the breeding facility and last night had been his last chance to see her.

“But look.” Taehyung grabbed his tablet off the lab counter and opened the program containing the farm’s medical records. Jungkook squinted to where the breeder’s finger was pointing to her name. He followed over from Tae’s finger to see her status listed as ‘Inseminated - awaiting results’.

“Someone changed her status back!” Taehyung whispered, jabbing his finger at the screen. “They deleted my test results from the system.” He frowned down at the tablet, scrolling back and forth.

“Dr. Kim?” Jungkook guessed, frowning.

“Who else?” Taehyung continued scrolling through the tablet, eyebrows knitted in consternation.

“Why would he do that?” Jungkook wondered why, if it was just an affair, the doctor would risk changing official records. Was he really risking his job just to fuck her one last time? It didn’t make sense. Then Jungkook realized that he had repeatedly put his own career on the line just to see her, and it didn’t seem so far fetched. Maybe Dr. Kim was in love with her too. Jungkook couldn’t blame him if he was.

“I don’t know.” The breeder looked up at the stud. “But weird things keep happening. Records changing, test results being lost, cows getting mixed up. I keep trying to tell my supervisor but he doesn’t want to redo all the paperwork on the word of an intern.”

“What do we do?” Jungkook rubbed his head, feeling the pain dissipate in response to the hydration in his arm, and becoming eager for action.

“I need proof that Dr. Kim is the one messing with the test results.” Taehyung unclipped the now empty banana bag from Jungkook’s IV before removing the needle from his arm. “If he held her back, they must be meeting tonight. I need a lookout. Can you meet me in the breakroom after dinner?”

Jungkook nodded. They were finally going to get to the bottom of this.

Jungkook paced back and forth in the breakroom after dinner, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Taehyung for their spy mission.

“What is the matter with you?” Jimin lay across the couch, feet up, following Jungkook back and forth with his eyes.

“Nothing.” The younger man paused his pacing and sat down on the arm of the couch at the opposite end, trying to look nonchalant. But he couldn’t keep his leg from twitching.

“Something is definitely up with you.” The older man eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not gonna hurl again, are you?” He pulled his feet away from Jungkook grimacing.

“No,” Jungkook grumbled. “I’m fine.”

Jimin looked like he didn’t believe him, but didn’t say anything further, picking up the remote and beginning to scroll through the channels on the TV.

Jungkook tried to be interested in the game show on the television, but couldn’t stay focused, glancing at the clock in 10-second intervals, terrified of missing their window. When the break room doors finally opened, Jungkook flew to his feet.

Taehyung stuck his head into the room. He and Jungkook nodded silently at each other and the intern gestured for the stud to follow him. Jungkook got up and half-walked, half-raced to the door.

“Hey!” Jimin said, sitting up. “Where are you two off to?”

“Karaoke.” Jungkook accidentally blurted the least plausible lie he could have given. Jungkook had never before in his life attended the company karaoke night. Jungkook looked at Taehyung with his most remorseful expression.

“There’s no karaoke tonight.” Jimin stood up off the couch. Of course, the biggest ham in the company would know exactly when karaoke night was.

“We’re practicing.” Taehyung steered into Jungkook’s terrible lie, but only made it worse. “Team competition.”

Jimin laughed. “You two are full of shit. Tell me what’s really going on.”

Jungkook looked at Taehyung, unsure what to do know. Taehyung confessed. “We’re going to spy on 2050 and Dr. Kim.”

“Really?” Jimin’s eyes widened and he scampered over to put on his shoes.

“You can’t come,” Taehyung objected. “There’s not enough room in the storage closet.”

Jimin crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows as if daring them to stop him.

The two younger boys looked back and forth between each other. Jungkook shrugged. He didn’t see why it would hurt to have another yet of eyes.

“Fine.” Taehyung nodded and the spy team set off.

Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung waited in the dark of the janitors’ closet. Jungkook stood anxiously by the door, holding it open just enough to see a sliver of the hallway. Jimin leaned against a shelving unit full of bottles of disinfectant. Taehyung sat on an overturned mop bucket next to the air vent near the floor. He had spent the previous hour threading a camera through the vent so it was now hidden just inside the air duct connected to the head breeder’s office.

Jimin leaned over Taehyung’s shoulder to examine the video feed on a tablet the intern had setup on top of a second bucket. “Why do you have all this spy shit?” the older stud teased, picking up one of the large headsets for the audio feed and putting it on.

“Things have been weird here for a while,” Taehyung answered, tongue trapped between his teeth as he fiddled with the cord leading to the camera, so the camera pointed directly at the suspicious man’s desk. The office was quiet and dark. Dr. Kim was still at dinner. “Test results have been changing. Mating records getting mixed up. I told my supervisor about it, but he said they were just mistakes.”

“Maybe they are,” Jimin shrugged.

“Shhh!” Jungkook hissed from the door. “Someone’s coming.”

Dr. Kim appeared at the end of the hallway that led to the cafeteria. He was whistling to himself as he fished his keys from his pocket and unlocked his office. Jungkook clenched his fists at how calm the breeder appeared to be, as if destroying Jungkook’s hopes and dreams was just a casual day at the office for him. Jungkook stepped back from the door slightly, to prevent being seen from the hallway as the breeder entered his office, before turning join Jimin and Taehyung at the monitor.

The feed showed the breeder as he settled in front of his computer, but they couldn’t see what he was doing behind the giant stacks of paper that still covered the desk, the floor, and every other available space in the room.

After about five minutes of watching the breeder do nothing but type on his computer, Jimin sighed dramatically. “How long do we have to watch him for?” The older stud yawned and stretched, twisting his upper body back and forth.

“I don’t know!” Taehyung didn't take his eyes off the monitor. “It’s a stake-out.”

Jungkook moved in closer, nodding in agreement. “As long as it takes.”

“That could be all night.” Jimin sat down on the floor, yawning some more.

“You didn’t have to come.” Taehyung looked up briefly to chastise Jimin, before turning back to the screen

“And let you two have all the good gossip? Jimin chuckled. “No way.” He crossed his arms and closed his eyes. “Wake me up when something interesting happens.”

They spent the next several hours in the same manner, watching the breeder as he moved back and forth between typing on his computer and scribbling on his large yellow legal pads, only getting up periodically to go hunting for files in the giant stacks of paper.

“Maybe she’s not coming,” Jimin whispered, standing up and stretching.

Taehyung took off his headphones and rocked his head from side to side, stretching his neck. “Why would he change her results if they weren’t going to meet up tonight?”

“Maybe they are meeting somewhere else.” Jungkook suggested. He hoped that maybe she wouldn’t show up at all. That it was all a big misunderstanding and she had just been in the bathroom when he tried to visit her last night.

“He’s still in there.” Taehyung put his headphones back on and continued his monitoring. “Either she shows up or he leaves and we tail him.”

The men fell silent again. Jungkook thought that tailing Dr. Kim would not be as easy as the budding spy made it sound. There was nowhere to hide in these sterile white hallways.

Finally, at half past midnight, there were footsteps in the hall. Jungkook’s heart sunk. Someone was coming. And it sounded like they were headed this way. Hesitantly, he cracked open the door, hoping it was just a passing night watchman.

He sighed when he saw her, walking quickly down the hall. Part of him wanted to call out to her, to step out of the closet, say her name, and have her run into his arms. But he felt betrayed.

“She’s here,” he whispered to the others, as she knocked quietly on the door, glancing up and down the hall furtively, before disappearing into the office. Jungkook closed the door and all three young men gathered around the video feed. Taehyung handed them each a pair of headphones so they could listen in.

“This was a big risk.” The deep voice of the head breeder came through the headphones as he stepped into view in front of the desk. “What’s going on?”

The girl said something off camera, but she was too far out of range and it was too soft to be picked up by the mic. Then she ran into Dr. Kim’s arms. It looked like she loved him. Jungkook clenched his jaw, remembering the way she had run into his arms in just the same manner only a few weeks before. Had that all been a lie? Why would she pretend to have feelings for him? What possible purpose did that serve?

“What do we do if they just start fucking?” Jimin hissed but Taehyung shushed him.

For a moment, it seemed like Jimin might be right as the head breeder wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. But when she pulled away from him, he could see she was crying.

“I’m sorry, Joon.”

She sounded upset, and as much as he wanted to be angry with her for her lies and her deceit, Jungkook’s first reaction was concern.

“I can’t do it,” she said, shaking her head.

“Can’t do what?” The breeder leaned down and peered into her eyes. The breeder looked like he really cared about her. Jungkook wished he could be in there, that he could be the one drying her tears.

“I can’t go back there.”

Dr. Kim stiffened and pulled away from her, hands on her shoulders. “Yes, you can,” he insisted, squeezing her tightly.

“No, I can’t!” Her voice raised as she shook her head back and forth. The head breeder glanced at the door, then pulled her further into his office.

“I need you to calm down,” he said, and Jungkook clenched his fists at the breeder’s condescending tone.

“I can’t do it, Joon. You can’t make me.” Jungkook nodded along with her. Dr. Kim was not going to make her do anything she didn’t want to do. Not if Jungkook had any say in the matter.

“You’re having a stressful time right now,” Dr. Kim crouched down so he was eye level with her.

“Goddamnit, Joon, if you tell me I’m hormonal...” She squared her shoulders.

“Do you think I have a death wish?” The doctor threw his hands up in defense. The tension in the room seemed to break as they both laughed. Jungkook pouted at the way she laughed with the breeder. She had laughed with Jungkook like that too.

As the laughter died down, she hung her head in defeat. “You said you could get me out.” She sounded so sad. Jungkook would have gotten her out. He wanted to shout through the door. He had tried to get her out.

“I’m sorry,” the breeder answered. “We need more time.”

Jungkook furrowed his brow in confusion, glancing over at Taehyung who looked just as confused as he felt. The intern shrugged and adjusted his headset.

“Jungkook came to see me,” she whispered. Jungkook cocked his head and listened intently as the two other men in the storage closet glanced in his direction. “He wanted me to run away with him.”

“You told him no.” The doctor’s tone brooked no argument and Jungkook gritted his teeth in frustration.

“Obviously,” she muttered under her breath, crossing her arms, and looking deeply unhappy.

Dr. Kim sighed. “The work we’re doing here is important.” He patted her shoulder. “More important than some boy’s crush.”

Jungkook watched helplessly as she nodded in agreement, head buried in the breeder’s chest. Jungkook felt a strong urge to deck the blonde man across the face. Jimin glanced over at him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” she sighed, as she pulled away from Dr. Kim. A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked up at the taller man. “But I still can’t do it.” She wiped the tear away in frustration, sniffling. “I can’t let them twist and warp my child in my own belly, Joon. Not again. I can’t have her torn from me. I won’t do it.”

Jungkook felt a pain deep in his gut. She was talking about their baby. Their daughter. And she seemed to be just as appalled by the idea of losing her as he was. Dr. Kim looked upset too and the room fell silent. The terrifying thought that the baby might actually be the doctor’s instead flashed across Jungkook’s mind.

“What if I bought her?” Dr. Kim said quietly, as if in confirmation of Jungkook’s worst fears.

“Really?” she said sniffling and smiling up at the doctor.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “then I could stop her being modified.”

Jungkook clenched his hands in rage. No way. No way in hell would he let his daughter be raised by this rich asshole who forced the women in his life to be breeding cows. Jungkook hands began to shake as he paced back and forth in agitation.

And then, the feed cut out. The video screen went black.

“What happened?!” Jungkook just barely stopped himself from shouting.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung whispered back, pressing buttons on the tablet and being greeted with the flashing low battery sign on the tablet. “Fuck.” The breeder swore under his breath.

Jimin stood up. “Didn’t you bring a charger?”

“I didn’t realize it would take so long,” Taehyung sighed in defeat, checking his bag, but not finding what he needed.

“It’s a stake-out!” Jimin parroted back the breeder’s earlier words.

Jungkook didn’t have time for this. Not when his child and the love of life were both seconds away from disappearing forever. While Taehyung and Jimin were arguing about what to do next, Jungkook bolted for the door.

“No!” Taehyung hissed after him. “Jungkook!”

The stud was already across the hallway before either of the other men could stop him. He wrenched open the door to the breeder’s office, bursting in to find them embracing again.

“Jungkook!” she said, breaking away from the breeder. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?!” he yelled, gesturing between her and the breeder.

“Get out of my office.” Dr. Kim placed himself in between the stud and the girl.

“Make me.” Jungkook spat. Dr. Kim rolled up his sleeves, but Jungkook was unimpressed. “You’re not stealing my daughter.”

“What?” she gasped. “Have you been listening in?”

Jungkook ignored the question. He had too many of his own.

“What you doing _________?” He intentionally used her name, the one thing he remembered most strongly from the drunken night before. He fought back a small smile when her mouth fell open in surprise. “Do you love him?” Jungkook gestured at the head breeder. “Is that why you wanted to stay?”

“Jungkook,” she walked closer to him, but he away from her. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?” His clenched fists shook in frustration. “Please tell me.”

“Okay, okay…” She nodded and looked at Dr. Kim, who shook his head vigorously. But then she looked back at Jungkook.

“Namjoon is my brother.”

#bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btssavedmylifeblr #dna

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ktlsyrtis · 6 years

Note

Berena - 43 + 20!

Dance of Romance + Teacher AU

a sequel to my previous Teacher AU prompt (also available on ao3)

There are many things Serena Campbell loves about her job as a teacher: the relationships she builds with her students, the opportunity to shape young minds, the fact that every day brings unique challenges.

Chaperoning the end of term dance is not one of them.

She swallows another sip of overly sweet punch with a grimace, checking that it hasn’t been spiked by some mischievous teen. This year’s dance hasn’t been as bad as others in the past. They’ve only had to step in a few times to reprimand the inappropriate placement of hands, and broken up just one fight. She thinks back to the year with the infamous streaker with a shudder, not eager to relive the experience of chasing down a student in their birthday suit.

All in all, it’s been an easy evening, a lovely time for the students to decompress before they sit for exams. She should be pleased, relaxed even. And yet…

Her eyes scan the crowd, drawn inevitably to the slender blonde on the opposite end of the room.

A month ago Serena was thrilled at the prospect of Bernie overseeing the dance with her, looked forward to spending more time with her friend, having Bernie by her side to ease the burden as she always manages to do. Now the sight of her, hair clipped up in an elegant twist and wearing a slim fitted suit that should probably be declared illegal by the health and safety commission, makes Serena’s stomach flop about uncertainly.

Instead of the comfort she normally derives from Bernie’s steadfast presence, all she can think of is that bloody massage. The feel of Bernie’s hands on her back, caressing her shoulders, is still so vivid Serena sometimes expects to see fingerprints branded across her skin, a permanent mark of Bernie’s touch emblazoned on Serena’s flesh.

It’s your own bloody fault, her inner voice grumbles for the millionth time. If only she had the courage to tell Bernie what she’s been feeling; that she’s never felt this way about a woman before, but she’s certain it’s more than friendship, that she wants so much more with Bernie, wants everything. She’d had her chance, too. After the holiday party. After the kiss.

The memory of that night, of Bernie’s dark eyes and warm hands, the way her long eyelashes cast soft shadows on her cheeks as she leaned in beneath the streetlamp, breath curling between them like steam, the lightning bolt of desire that had flooded Serena at the first touch of those thin, surprisingly soft lips, chased by a sense of complete rightness, is as clear now as it was the morning after. As clear as it was that entire weekend, churning over and over in Serena’s overwhelmed mind.

As clear as it was when Serena lied to Bernie for the very first time.

In hindsight she knows she panicked. All of her intentions of having a frank conversation had flown out the window when Bernie walked into their office that morning, holding a coffee from Serena’s favorite cafe and a pain au chocolat, a hesitant smile on her face, and looking so painfully beautiful it took Serena’s breath away.

Suddenly everything she was feeling was overwhelming and terrifying instead of new and exciting, and out of sheer self-preservation Serena pretended not to remember. Fabricated a story of hazy memories, of too much shiraz and a brutal hangover. Even as the words left her mouth she wished she could take them back, saw some of the light gutter and die in Bernie’s eyes, her smile tightening, laugh forced. This isn’t what I want! a part of Serena screamed, but once it was out she didn’t know how to take it back.

They’re still friends. Of course they are. Serena would rather lose an arm than have Bernie disappear from her life, which is a significant portion of what terrified her in the first place. And if sometimes Serena catches herself staring a little too long at Bernie’s profile as she marks exams, or she notices Bernie watching her from across the room with a look of such wistfulness it makes Serena’s heart ache, they’ve both tacitly agreed to ignore it. To put the idea of possibility, the desire for something more, aside in favor of the friendship they both treasure.

Until last week.

The first touch of Bernie’s hands on her skin had freed every one of those emotions and, like Pandora, Serena can’t get them back in the box.

She’s spent the week avoiding Bernie at every turn, has even taken to grading in the teachers’ lounge for the first time in her career out of the fear that if she lingers too long in a room alone with Bernie that she’ll do something stupid, like push her up against the office door and snog her senseless, or blurt out “I love you” across their desks.

And she does love Bernie. Loves her with every beat of her useless heart, more and more each day it seems. But if Serena’s learned nothing else in her life it’s that love is no guarantee, and ends in heartbreak more often than not. She won’t risk Bernie’s friendship for that, no matter how much it hurts.

Serena just needs time. Time to regain her balance, to rein in her emotions, place them once again under lock and key, and she needs time away from Bernie to do that.

The lights in the gymnasium dim, limning everything in an ethereal blue glow as the music switches to something slower. Students pair off quickly, swaying together on the dance floor under the watchful eyes of the faculty.

Sound washes over Serena, her mind instinctively picking out bits and pieces of the lyrics; something about holding breath and I’m not myself. The song swells into the chorus as the singer declares her refusal to believe she’s the only one feeling such love and Serena can’t stop herself from looking across the room to where Bernie stands, hands shoved deep in her pockets…and staring right back at her.

Serena gasps, can see the intensity of Bernie’s dark eyes even from here, emotions writ large across her features that make Serena’s heart pound unevenly. The air seems to thicken around her, making it too hard to breath, to think, and she has to get away.

Spinning on her heel, she makes her way across the gym, pushing out the side door.

The night air is crisp and she wraps her arms around herself, tilts her head back to stare at the bright disc of the moon, takes deep breaths and tries to calm the beating of her frantic heart. She doesn’t look away when she hears the door open and click shut a moment later, just closes her eyes, imagines she can feel the movement in the air that heralds Bernie’s presence, a kind of sixth sense that always tells Serena when she’s near.

“You all right?”

Serena hums, eyes still closed, face turned up to the moon. “Just got a bit overheated, needed some fresh air. Sorry to run out like that.”

She hears a scuff of shoes on concrete, thinks that Bernie must’ve shifted closer, that if she leaned just an inch to the right they’d be pressed together, arm to arm.

“The others have things under control.” Bernie’s voice is low, blending with the breeze through the trees, the strains of music filtering out of the gym. “I think the dance is going quite well, don’t you?”

“Mmmmm, yes.” Serena opens her eyes and glances over. Bernie’s normally golden hair is practically white in the silvery light, her eyes dark and fathomless in a way that makes Serena shiver. “It’s not a bad time, a bit boring, though. It would be a fair sight better if the staff could join in on the dancing.”

A furrow forms between Bernie’s brows and Serena lets herself imagine what it would be like to stroke her thumb across those wrinkles, to smooth them away with her touch.

“What says they can’t?”

“Nothing, I suppose,” Serena muses. “I mean, there’s no rule about it. I think it’s a matter of propriety, really. We can’t have all of the teachers looking ridiculous in front of the students.”

Bernie seems to consider this for a moment, turns to face Serena with a hand extended and a hesitant smile on her face.

“There aren’t any students here now.”

Serena knows she should refuse, should go back inside and get back to the work of falling out of love with Bernie Wolfe. But her will is weak in the face of a world bathed in moonlight and Bernie looking at her with such hope, and she finds herself taking Bernie’s hand, stepping into her embrace.

They sway to the faint music in silence, pressed only lightly together. Still Serena is painfully aware of every point of contact; Bernie’s palm at the base of her spine, the way their hands fit together, the curves of their bodies complementing one another, interlocking like puzzle pieces. Their faces hover with only a whisper of space between them, practically cheek to cheek, and Serena finds herself staring at the ivory column of Bernie’s neck, exposed by her updo, wonders what it would be like to press her lips to the spot at the base where Bernie’s pulse flutters. They shift a little closer, Bernie guiding them in a slow circle on the cracked concrete.

“This reminds me of the holiday party,” Serena murmurs without thinking. She feels Bernie stiffen against her, a hitch in her shuffling steps. For a moment she thinks Bernie is going to bolt, doesn’t quite know how she would survive it. Instead, after what seems like an eternity, she relaxes incrementally against Serena and they resume their swaying.

“I, uh, I thought you didn’t remember that.” Bernie’s voice is tight, a little hoarse, as if she’s bracing herself against something. There’s a question in her words, the question. The one they’ve both been avoiding for the entire term. Leaning back in Bernie’s loose embrace, Serena looks her in the eyes, those beautiful, caring eyes, and knows the time for lies has ended.

“I remember everything about that night.”

She feels Bernie’s gasp as much as hears it, watches her eyes go wide, a million questions flickering across her lovely features. It breaks something loose in Serena and words spill out; how much she wanted to tell Bernie, how scared she was, still is, how important Bernie is in her life and how she couldn’t bear to ruin that. It’s a torrent of thoughts and feelings, a waterfall, pouring out of her faster and faster as she tries to find a way to make this all right.

It takes her a moment to realize the words have stopped, cut off by Bernie’s lips covering her own, just as soft and sweet as she remembers.

Serena freezes, blinks in shock, sways a little on her feet when Bernie pulls back. She can see the fear on Bernie’s face, recognizes it as the same as her own, and realizes in a flash what fools they’ve both been.

Before Bernie can get out her inevitable apology, Serena leans in and kisses her fiercely, her hands finding their way to the loose tendrils of hair at the nape of Bernie’s neck. Kisses her until Bernie melts against her; hands clutching, holding each other as close as they can, with only the silent moon as witness.

[fic trope mash-up]

#ylizam #replies #berena #my fic #this is 1900 words of self-indulgent twaddle #enjoy?

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felicia-cat-hardy · 3 years

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11 Signs Your Body Might Not Be Properly Digesting Meat & What To Do About It

It’s a familiar feeling: waking up after a night out with the tell-tale stomach cramps, dark eye circles, and feeling like you need to down a gallon of water. No, it��s not a hangover — wondering “Why does meat make me sick?” the morning after a steak dinner is a more common experience than you’d think.

Meat can be a really healthy, protein-packed staple in your diet, but it doesn't necessarily work for all body types and metabolisms. Knowing if there are signs your body doesn't digest meat well can help you eat smart and feel more comfortable. There are certain foods that trigger an intolerance or sensitivity, and unless recognized, you might experience irregular bowels, head pains, body aches, and other symptoms.

Eating meat isn't a requisite for a healthy and happy lifestyle, and while someone might thrive when eating a meat-heavy diet, another person might notice stomach pain or diarrhea after eating red meat. Anything that throws the body out of balance can cause problems, and food is a common trigger for such instability. If you find that you can't tolerate meat, it's not a diet-buster, as you can still find protein and iron in plant-based sources — and will probably feel a lot better. Here are 11 signs that your body can't process meat well, and you might want to avoid it.

1. Bloating

If you notice bloating after eating meat, it could be a sign of malabsorption or be representative of a failure to digest food properly. Per a 2018 study in Nutrients, fatty meats contain large amounts of the amino acid methionine, which contains sulfur and is broken down into smelly gas in your gut. That can build up and make you bloated. Abdominal distention and an overall feeling of fatigue after eating meat is a large enough reason to eliminate it and see if you feel better.

2. Nausea & Diarrhea

Nausea, heartburn, and indigestion could be signs that you’re not digesting meat well, and these symptoms can prove to be incredibly uncomfortable, Rachna Govani, CEO and co-founder of public health technology company Foodstand, tells Bustle. If you get stomach pain and diarrhea after eating red meat, you may have a meat intolerance, according to the American College of Allergy, Asthma, and Immunology (ACAAI). This can be caused by a meat allergy, which affects 1-3% of people and can develop as a symptom of a tick bite.

3. Getting Sick More Often

If you're not able to digest meat well, you might find yourself getting sick more often, especially with food-borne illnesses, such as salmonella and E. Coli. An antigen found in red meat has been linked to lower immune system function and higher incidences of cancer because the body struggles to digest it, per the Cancer Research Institute. If your immunity isn’t what it used to be, it could be due to eating high amounts of red meat.

4. Stomach Cramps

That abdominal cramping might be a sign that your body has an intolerance to meat, the ACAAI says. If you consistently feel like somebody’s kicked you in the gut after eating meat, but an allergy test comes up clear, another culprit could be diverticulitis, an inflammation of the colon that’s connected to high consumption of red meat in men, per a 2017 study in Gut.

5. High Blood Pressure

"One important problem you may not feel — high blood pressure. High blood pressure can be silent, and still cause damage," Neil Grimmer, head of Plum Organics, tells Bustle. Some processed meats, like bacon, contain high amounts of sodium, which can increase blood pressure. Research from Harvard’s T.H. Chan School of Public Health in 2018 also found that eating well-done meat, as opposed to rarer or less-cooked meat, was linked to a higher risk of blood pressure issues. "If you are one of the millions of Americans with high blood pressure, this may be a good sign that you’d do better cutting back on meat," Grimmer says.

6. Constipation

"Every person has a unique digestive system that functions based not only on their genetics but also heavily on their dietary habits as well. I've found more and more clients complaining about indigestion and constipation post red meat consumption which may be related to a variety of factors," Elizabeth Ann Shaw, M.S., R.D.N., C.L.T., tells Bustle. "For instance, depending on the cut of meat, some are exceptionally high in fat. Fat takes longer to digest in the body so it may cause indigestion based on the other foods you are consuming during the meal.” A study published in Gut & Gastroenterology in 2020 suggested that eating large amounts of red meat can cause constipation.

7. Dark Circles Under The Eyes

Dark circles don't just come from a poor night's sleep. Apparently, not digesting meat properly can mess with your beauty regimen, too. "If you get dark cycles under your eyes after eating meat, especially the next day it's a sign the meat has not been digested properly," Liana Werner-Gray, nutritional expert and author of The Earth Diet and 10-Minute Recipes, tells Bustle. Allergies and food intolerances can lead to dark circles thanks to an increase of nasal congestion, Healthline reports. At the same time, dark circles can also be a sign of anemia, or a lack of iron in the blood, for which eating more red meat is often recommended. It’s never a bad idea to consult your doctor if you’re concerned about your undereye circles.

8. Needing To Drink Water A Lot

Drinking water is a really easy way to improve your digestion — your body needs H2O to flush out the byproducts of processing your meals, a process your liver and kidneys do without much help. But meat is high in sodium, which can throw off your body’s natural balance of fluids if you have too much. If you find yourself reaching for your comically oversized water bottle after eating meat, it could be a sign that your body isn’t having fun digesting that hamburger.

9. Bad Body Odors & Breath

"Bad breath and body odor are both signs that your body isn't digesting meat properly. If meat isn't digested properly, the smelly odor can go back into the digestive system which eventually makes its way to the skin and breath," explains Werner-Gray. She recommends taking digestive enzymes to help break it down. A 2006 study published in Chemical Senses actually found that the body odor of non-meat eaters was regarded as more attractive than those who ate meat.

10. Fatigue

"If you feel really sluggish and tired after eating meat it's a sign your body doesn't properly digest meat. It's a sign that the meat is stuck in your bowels and actually draining energy from your body working it off to digest it," Werner-Gray says. Some sleepiness after eating, particularly heavy meals, is common, but consistent flat-out tiredness after meat consumption in particular may be a signal that the meat isn’t being processed properly.

11. Muscle Loss

“You may experience loss of muscle,” Dr. Partha Nandi M.D., F.A.C.P, creator and host of Ask Dr. Nandi and Chief Health Editor at WXYZ-TV (ABC) Detroit, tells Bustle. Protein is a major fuel for muscle maintenance, and if your body isn’t breaking down meat proteins, that steak can’t help keep your muscles healthy.

If you notice any of these symptoms after eating meat, it might be wise to alter your diet and try more plant-based foods to see if there's an improvement.

Experts:

Rachna Govani

Neil Grimmer

Dr. Partha Nandi M.D. F.A.C.P.

Elizabeth Ann Shaw, MS, RDN, CLT

Liana Werner-Gray

Studies cited:

Cao, Y., Strate, L. L., Keeley, B. R., Tam, I., Wu, K., Giovannucci, E. L., & Chan, A. T. (2018). Meat intake and risk of diverticulitis among men. Gut, 67(3), 466–472. https://ift.tt/3bBKAO0

Dallas, D. C., Sanctuary, M. R., Qu, Y., Khajavi, S. H., Van Zandt, A. E., Dyandra, M., Frese, S. A., Barile, D., & German, J. B. (2017). Personalizing protein nourishment. Critical reviews in food science and nutrition, 57(15), 3313–3331. https://ift.tt/3orbmxQ

Górska-Warsewicz, H., Laskowski, W., Kulykovets, O., Kudlińska-Chylak, A., Czeczotko, M., & Rejman, K. (2018). Food Products as Sources of Protein and Amino Acids-The Case of Poland. Nutrients, 10(12), 1977. https://ift.tt/2QytQA6

Havlicek, J., Lenochova, P. (2006) The Effect of Meat Consumption on Body Odor Attractiveness. Chemical Senses, 31(8), 747–752, https://doi.org/10.1093/chemse/bjl017

Monif, G. (2020). Chronic Constipation and Red Meat Consumption. Gut & Gastroenterology, 3(2).

Wilson, J. M., & Platts-Mills, T. (2019). Red meat allergy in children and adults. Current opinion in allergy and clinical immunology, 19(3), 229–235. https://ift.tt/3tXuSTN

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hoynovoy · 3 years

Text

11 Signs Your Body Might Not Be Properly Digesting Meat & What To Do About It

It’s a familiar feeling: waking up after a night out with the tell-tale stomach cramps, dark eye circles, and feeling like you need to down a gallon of water. No, it’s not a hangover — wondering “Why does meat make me sick?” the morning after a steak dinner is a more common experience than you’d think.

1. Bloating

2. Nausea & Diarrhea

3. Getting Sick More Often

4. Stomach Cramps

5. High Blood Pressure

6. Constipation

7. Dark Circles Under The Eyes

8. Needing To Drink Water A Lot

9. Bad Body Odors & Breath

10. Fatigue

11. Muscle Loss

If you notice any of these symptoms after eating meat, it might be wise to alter your diet and try more plant-based foods to see if there's an improvement.

Experts:

Rachna Govani

Neil Grimmer

Dr. Partha Nandi M.D. F.A.C.P.

Elizabeth Ann Shaw, MS, RDN, CLT

Liana Werner-Gray

Studies cited:

Cao, Y., Strate, L. L., Keeley, B. R., Tam, I., Wu, K., Giovannucci, E. L., & Chan, A. T. (2018). Meat intake and risk of diverticulitis among men. Gut, 67(3), 466–472. https://ift.tt/3bBKAO0

Havlicek, J., Lenochova, P. (2006) The Effect of Meat Consumption on Body Odor Attractiveness. Chemical Senses, 31(8), 747–752, https://doi.org/10.1093/chemse/bjl017

Monif, G. (2020). Chronic Constipation and Red Meat Consumption. Gut & Gastroenterology, 3(2).

Wilson, J. M., & Platts-Mills, T. (2019). Red meat allergy in children and adults. Current opinion in allergy and clinical immunology, 19(3), 229–235. https://ift.tt/3tXuSTN

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valgasnewsthings · 3 years

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A how to select analgetic?

A something against ache are lots of patients asking in pharmacy, and lots of patients are using many analgetics, as addicted of theirs, and not though about right rules her using,thus lets check about these rules right.

And theirs differences.

As all remedies are fighting aches having three groups.

1.Paracetamol, analgin.Paracetamol fights weak ache and moderate,that is enough on many cases, analgin is stronger, as not a light narcotic effective, but more toxic,than a paracetamol.

2.And non steroid anti inflamed remedies are ibumax, cetorolac, aspirin, diclofenac,as they are fighting high temperature,aches and anti inflammation effect having,as from minus are more side effects, and usually theirs using when a hurt is result of inflammation.

3. Spasmolitics as papaverinum, drotaverinum or nospanum.

As pharmacy would say, these are not analgetic,as they are relaxing a hurt shortening muscles of inside organs as stomach, bowel, urinary, uterine, urinary bladder,but leading a goal, they are lowering ache in these organs, as thus before a pharmacy to visit you can define a which analgetic groups will better for you,but for a right select this is not enough.

Doctors are against analgetics.

As in a world analgetic, medics are tremble, that word A here formed probably of ache,but doctors are objecting as on this word say, and a question, as on a many cases these are not useful and bad. As in headache before use a pill, try check pressure, as a headaches reasons are raising pressure, or lowering as in young is low, and older is high,and in both cases analgetics are help, but on a short time. As here for fight ache you need return in norm a vessel tone and blood pressure.

As second case is heart ache. As avoid this symptom to patience,and not use analgetics, as hurt heart is a hard cure, here need to help right, but not to mask symptoms, as therefore call a doctor.

As third ache kind,when are analgetics avoiding using as belly ache.As analgetic used in acute pancreatitis, bowels obstruction, hernia, or peritonitis will give a small relieve ,but a time for a right cure you are lost,as for understand what are happened in a belly a DR need to know where is hurt and how. As after analgetic you are not right complain and doctor a not put diagnosis. And if gastritis reason thus help a spoon of suspension almagel, maalox packet, pill omeprazol, and analgetic here will harmful you.

As from these analgetics are hard side effects having in NSAID as on a stomach affect,as on a light case are belly aches, disorders digestion, as on hard are stomach ulcer, and stomach bleeding.

As by stats they are causing stomach bleeding,as very bad here are aspirin, dometacin, cetorolan, diclofenac, ibumax,as for risk low avoid use are different analgetics these as on a same time,use right dose and regime use.

A head hurt, but pressure is normal.

Paracetamol is a best selection in headache, as less toxic , as he effect on a ache receptors in brain, thus not harmful a stomach, and his use are babies and pregnancy.

And pill effect displaying in 20 minutes and keeping 5 hours, faster, but on a short time. As he is fighting a weak and moderate ache, but this is enough,that to forget about a headache.

As minus here, if rise dosage,he is affecting liver if use with alcohol, thus in hangover drink and other analgetic.

Ibumax,

As stronger,than a paracetamol by analgesic effect, but having lots of side effects,and if paracetamol not helps, thus a ibumax you can use as not waiting a pause,as remedies having a different effect mechanism and side effects are not summarizing even in a use simultaneous .And if still head hurts, thus a search more stronger remedies a not need,thus here need a doctor s help.

Tension ache, joints, muscles.

A most here aches having inflammation character,thus here are using NSAID with a most expressive anti inflammation effect, and aches localizations here are spine, knee or elbow are meaning for a remedy remedy is not having and a most effective remedy in muscle and joint ache is diclofenac as plus here as filling in joints cavity as effect clear displaying there,as in gastritis, ulcer use is on a cure time omeprazol or ranitidin and diclofenac use after meal ,that lows a risk for damage stomach.

Ache throat,teeth, ear.

As a self cure here is stupid, but to save ache till a professional help also bad, thus use paracetamol, or analgin, and right here use for these goals are NSAID,so as ache a data localization is tied with inflammation.

As a most right select is ibumax as very save as with a enough force,that fight ache in angina, otitis or pulpitis,thus after visit a doctor,that to fight a reason for ache.

A hurt after injury.

As in serious injuries are a full analgezation is possible by a forces and remedies, but till a doctor visiting as relieve condition use NSAID GROUPS OF.

In injury ache, after surgery,teeth remove use are remedies of cetorolac as one ampule as 30 mg is by a force analgezation ,like 12 mg morphine is narcotic remedy ,and also ask cetoral of pill as cetorol, cetanov.

As a force andrisk for for side effects depend from a dose,thus read instruction and calculate pills,ampules as a right dose for adult are 90 mg/day.

As for acute ache fight use a remedy of solution for injection,as and after injection effect is faster,than of pill. And if just pill having as for a faster effect use her on an empty stomach or use diluting pills,like effervescent.

As of method a remedy entering are into muscle, vein into a force of analgezation is not depends,and depends a speed with a which this effect as developing and injections of NSAID are harmful for stomach, but on a less level.

A belly hurt.

As an individual use right away,and not thinking about a side effects ,as in strong hurt is spasmolitis drotaverin, papaverin .And if problem caused a bowel s colic,gas of, stress,thus hurt will stop. And if effect is zero,thus not keep a cure still, visit a doctor,just tests here are affecting on a hurt removing.

Aches in menses.

As lots of reasons here are having and methods curing. As for radically remove aches visit gynecologist as of symptomatic help here is all as individually. As first which are need to try are spasmolitics,as a less harmful analgetics,as discomfort in menses tie with an ache uterine shortening as drotaverin, papaverin, combined remedies spasmodic foe and analgetic as bellagin, bellastesin, spasmolgon are will relieve a condition. As in abundant menses or hypotonia use paracetamol, if effect is zero,thus move in order a rising force of analgesic effect, and toxic of remedy as ibumax, diclofenac, cetorolac.

And selecting a remedy against ache ,as not search a most hot,as more analgetic effect,thus a more higher risk of complication a remedy.And if you are need to rise effect,thus rise dosage till a maximal one/time by instruction,and do not use are both for a one time of NSAID groups ,this is too rising risk for complications. And if analgesic not helps,thus in ache is serious reason.As to try here are other remedies as plants too are dangerous, thus better visit a specialist.

By Dolgopolova,doctor in therapy specialist.

via Blogger https://ift.tt/3kRZS4G

#Blogger #ache #analgesic #analgetic #hurt #morphine #nsaid #spasmolitic

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vastberry · 6 years

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All the health benefits of bourbon you want you knew earlier … you’re welcome:

Whiskey is one of the finest alcohols you can drink. Not just is it the least most likely to offer you a hangover, however it’s also among the healthiest around.

You’ll discover that having a couple of fingers of scotch every week can help to:

Prevent Weight Gain– Bourbon is a low-calorie alcohol, especially when compared with the lots of cocktails, beers, and wines you can discover on supermarket shelves. You can consume a tumbler of bourbon without worrying about loading on the pounds thanks to its low sugar content.

Increase Heart Health– Did you know that drinking scotch can really make your heart healthier? Aside from wine and dark beer, what other alcohols can claim that? Not only will whiskey reduce the danger of blood embolisms, but it will reduce your stroke and cardiac arrest threat as well. The antioxidants in bourbon stop cholesterol from blocking your arteries, and it can even boost your excellent cholesterol.

Fight Cancer—- Whiskey is rich in anti-oxidants, particularly one called ellagic acid. This antioxidant stops your body’s DNA from being available in contact with cancer-causing compounds, reducing the danger of carcinogens forming. It can also safeguard your body from chemotherapy, and will minimize oxidation in your body.

Enhance Brain Health– A study performed in 2003 found that drinking scotch lowers your threat of Alzheimer’s and dementia. If you’re stressed that your brain is slowing down in your old age, it’s time to start consuming scotch to secure your crucial organ from damage.

Decrease Stroke Threat—- Whiskey not only helps to prevent cholesterol from constructing up in your arteries, but it can actually help to get rid of any cholesterol present in your capillary at the moment. It will likewise help to relax the walls of your arteries, making sure that your blood can stream without blockage. Among the greatest health advantages of bourbon is the lowered stroke risk, and we can all consume to that!

Fight Tension and Stress – can trigger a large range of health issue in the body, but luckily we have actually got scotch to kick stress’butt! Whiskey assists to lower anxiety and tension, relaxing your nerves and helping to unwind your body. It can increase circulation throughout your body, offering your organs with fresh, oxygenated blood. A serving or 2 of whiskey can assist to calm stressed out nerves successfully!

Boost Memory– The antioxidants in scotch can help to enhance the health of your brain, and the circulation-boosting effects of this alcohol will improve your memory at the same time. The very same homes that help to decrease your danger of Alzheimer’s and dementia will also keep your brain active and young.

Help in Digestion—- Did you know that whiskey has long been intoxicated as a digestion aid? It was normally consumed after a meal, assisting to unwind the body after eating heavy food. It can likewise help to shut down your cravings, preventing you from eating way too much. Best of all, it will help in digestion, lowering your threat of stomach ache or indigestion after a heavy meal.

Lengthen Life Expectancy—- Bourbons are packed with healthy anti-oxidants, and these nutrients can help to increase your life-span by decreasing your danger of illness. By safeguarding your body against illness, you avoid the slow breakdown of important cells in your body– thus assisting you to live longer.

Great for Diabetics—- Whiskey is a zero-carb alcohol, so you can drink it without stressing about the effect it will have on your blood sugar levels. If you suffer from diabetes, a finger or more of scotch will be the ideal choice for you!

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The post ‘Whiskey In The Jar – 10 Surprising Health Benefits appeared first on iHealth @Vastberry.

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podmore · 6 years

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an autumn storm, pt. 1

(ao3)

"And no matter what happens, you will return here afterwards. Do you understand?"

The house elf's lips quivered and his bulbous eyes watered, but still he answered, "Yes, Master Regulus." In the low light, his face seemed even more twisted and gnarled than usual, a fact that might have amused Regulus under any circumstance where the expression didn’t reflect his own feelings rather more accurately than he could ever demonstrate himself. His aristocratic upbringing would hardly have allowed it, after all.

Regulus frowned, bending just enough to take Kreacher's hand, uneasily ignoring both the leathery texture and the elf’s instinctive recoil from the hand of a wizard. "It's going to be all right."

Kreacher's eyes glinted in the half shadow of the grim hallway, under the looming heads of his forebears, and he said nothing. It was not in the nature of a house elf to contradict his master.

The continuous echo of the rain outside was quiet, almost drowned out by the rush of blood pounding in his ears. Despite the roiling in his stomach, Regulus took a deep breath and straightened his spine, determined to be a proper son of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black to the end.

To whatever end.

Unlike Sirius, his treacherous mind supplied, and he faltered. Just a moment, but it was enough. He reached for the door handle, fingers hanging in the air over the gleaming silver, reflecting a pale, distorted hand reaching out for him in turn, inexorable, inescapable.

His hand dropped. "Kreacher, wait."

---

Outside the cracked shutters, James could hear the wind roaring and the steady rhythmic thrum of the rain drumming on the cottage roof. He sighed, lost in thought as his hands stilled over the almost-forgotten cups of tea meant to help soothe the nightmares on the kitchen table, filled with so many nostalgic memories and only a select few, recent ones of pain and despair and anger. His hands always ached these days, and the heat helped, but he would never let Lily see. Never mind that he knew she could be strong enough for the both of them.

He and Lily were holed up in their new, old house in Godric's Hollow. James hadn't wanted to take his parents' beloved summer home, but his resolve had crumbled in the face of Lily storming into his flat while the Marauders were strewn about in various stages of hangover to announce that she was pregnant and it was all his damn fault, and then promptly bursting into tears.

His parents would have helped out anyway, he knew. They had always loved Lily, just like they loved Sirius, and they would have been thrilled to hear about their grandchild. Some days the ache in his chest grew greater than the one in his hands.

His heart thumped loudly, painfully, and with a shock he realized it wasn't just his heart but a low knock on the door, battering and insistent.

"Jamie?" Lily appeared on the stairs, face white, hand resting lightly on the banister while the other clutched the hem of her frayed shirt, pulling it taut over her still-flat belly. James nodded, pulling his wand from his back pocket and advancing cautiously on the door. He put his ear to the ancient wood and listened intently. He could hear a low murmur but couldn't make out voices or words. Shaking his head at Lily, he turned the knob and yanked the door open, wand pointing into the gap right into the face of--

"Kreacher?"

The wizened house elf could do little more than howl and clutch the sodden pile of cloth next to him. Cloth, James realized, that looked quite fine, despite the downpour, and rather bony, and familiar, and oh god, "Sirius!?"

But as soon as the word escaped James’ throat, reason fought through the blind panic for a single moment of clarity. Sirius wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere near the house elf who had helped to make his childhood a living hell, and as much as the apparition on his doorstep hearkened back to the dark day Sirius ran away from his parents’ house, James happened to know that Sirius no longer owned any clothing nearly so high quality as the robes puddling on his stoop, as a point of pride and fascination with Muggle culture. Which meant…

“Regulus.” James raised his wand toward the body which had yet to move from its rather clearly injured position, and though he felt a twinge of pity for the pathetic sight, there was no way he would risk compromising his family’s safety for the sake of a marked Death Eater.

“James, wait.” Lily was at his side, her own wand out and pointed at Regulus. She cast silently, her eyes never leaving the wailing house elf practically draped over his prostrate master as shimmering silk cords bound the man, carefully avoiding the elf entirely, who seemed to take no notice other than wailing perceptibly louder.

“Lils, what—”

“Moody’s been after us to capture a live Death Eater for ages.” Lily’s brow furrowed as she levitated what might have passed for a heap of sodden cloth if not for the disturbing sight of the lolling head whose face looked so much like Sirius, only thin and hollow. “We can keep him here under guard until the Order can get here, and we’ll let Dumbledore decide what to do.”

James flinched. “Keep him here? All he has to do is press his arm and we’ll be surrounded faster than we can Apparate out,” he hissed, mindful of the moaning house elf now trailing after his floating master as the odd procession made its way to the kitchen where, to James’ horror, Lily dropped Regulus on the beloved hand-carved table.

As she began to pull Regulus’ robes away to feel his throat, Lily rolled her eyes at him. “He’s practically dead already, not to mention tied up. He’s…” She paused for a moment while she lowered an ear towards the unconscious man’s mouth and her eyes tracked Regulus’ chest for movement, then continued, “Barely got a pulse and his breath’s faint. If we leave him out there, or kill him… Does that make us any better than them?”

With a sinking sensation, James floundered, desperately searching for a reason to get them as far away from injured Death Eaters and devastated house elves as possible. “You really want Sirius to get anywhere near his brother?”

Cocking an eyebrow, Lily shot back, “You really want to tell Sirius that we killed his brother in cold blood?”

James dropped into the nearest chair, putting his head into his hands with a groan. “Merlin.”

“Quite.” Lily whispered a healing spell, and they both watched as some color returned to Regulus’ cheeks, though he didn’t stir. “Do you want to send the Patronus, or shall I?”

“I can handle it. Who knows what Minnie’s going to think of all this in the middle of the night,” James joked weakly. Flicking his wand and calling, “Expecto Patronum!", James waited until the stag that burst forth had stopped preening for Lily, as it always did, and sent it cantering away into the storming night with the message, leaving him to wait with the love of his life, a defenseless enemy, and a weeping elf.

#hp #hp fic #marauders era #au: canon divergence #regulus black #james potter #lily evans #harry potter #hp fanfiction #fic

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professorpalmarosa · 6 years

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Feelin’ Lava-ly (Maxie - Team Magma)

I wanted Maxie’s blend to be spicy, but also earthy. Since I used Cassia Cinnamon as the key ingredient in Martian to a Different Drum (my blend for Commander Mars of Team Galactic), I vowed I wasn’t going to use it. It was much too sweet for Team Magma’s boss, anyway!

I selected Myrrh (a sap-like tree resin with an amber-like smell) as my main oil for the blend. Frankincense (its more famous cousin) blends with virtually everything. Myrrh’s a bit more peppery and doesn’t play as nicely with as many smells.

Originally, I wanted to use Ginger (for its warm, earthy smell) in the blend, but opted instead to use one of its lesser known cousins: Finger Root. Finger Root smells a bit earthier and paired nicely with the Myrrh.

By this point, the blend smelled bitter and like a bunch of dried roots. I needed to give it a bit more spice and heat to round it out! I used about 10 drops of Red Thyme to add some “flavor” to the blend, and then proceeded to christen the rest of the blend with CO2 supercritical Turmeric.

(And if you don’t know what CO2 Supercritical means, that’s okay. It’s just a process that makes a stronger, purer, more intense oil with a longer shelf life).

The Myrrh and Turmeric are what you smell predominantly in the blend. Once it hits the water, it’s a gorgeous rich crimson. Imagine you’re bathing in a hot tub of lava, or the blood of your Team Aqua enemies.

Now it’s time to talk about the pros and cons of these oils from a safety perspective…

Aromatherapy isn’t just about pretty smells and scented bath water. Essential oils are in such a high concentration that even absorbing them through your skin can leave you with the therapeutic (and potentially toxic) benefits.

If you are allergic to a plant, you are 100% without question going to be super allergic to the essential oil.

There’s also such a thing as contraindications: where some oils may affect you in weird ways if you have a certain medical condition or take certain medications.

The information below is for your safety if you want to attempt to make this blend at home (as a bath bomb, a body spray, or even scented bath salts). And do be sure to wear gloves. Some of these oils have recommended dilution rates as small as 0.4%. You don’t want that to slide on bare skin!

Myrrh Essential Oil (40% of Synergy)

Myrrh (like Elemi and Frankincense) is a resin that comes out of cuts in the bark of Commiphora trees. It’s primarily used to make medicine and is one of the most ancient (and most purchased) essential oils on the planet.

For Christians, the name may sound familiar. Myrrh was one of the three gifts provided to the baby Jesus by the Three Kings. It was a symbolic gift, seeing as myrrh was used (at the time) for embalming purposes. Pros: Myrrh is used to treat stomach problems (indigestion, ulcers), respiratory problems (cough, asthma, colds), pain problems (arthritis), cancer, leprosy, spasms, and even syphilis. You can also use it as a stimulant and to increase menstrual flow (making it perfect for cramps and endometriosis).

With a carrier oil, myrrh can be applied to sores, wounds, boils, and abrasions. It cuts down on inflammation. It’s one of my all-time favorites for my occasional fibromyalgia flares. Myrrh digs in deep and melts the aches and pains away!

Cons: Myrrh has several potential health warnings, so please read this section with care.

Some people experience nausea when exposed to myrrh. If ingested (not that you should EVER take essential oils internally without your doctor’s recommendation), myrrh can cause diarrhea.

Although small doses are considered safe for the general public, excessive use and abuse of the oil could result in heart and kidney complications.

If you are pregnant or breast-feeding, avoid using Myrrh Essential Oil until your baby is safely weaned. Myrrh stimulates menstrual flow and may cause a miscarriage. Breast-feeding parents should avoid myrrh, since it’s not a baby-safe oil.

If you are diabetic or taking diabetic medication, you need to understand that Myrrh Essential Oil might lower your blood sugar. Please monitor your blood sugar carefully if you’re using this oil.

If you have heart problems, large amounts of myrrh may impact your heart rate (and not in a good way). Get your healthcare provider’s advice before using this essential oil.

If you plan to have surgery in the next 2 weeks, avoid using Myrrh Essential Oil. Myrrh might interfere with blood glucose control during and after surgery.

If you have a uterine bleeding condition, exercise caution when using Myrrh Essential Oil, as it may worsen your condition.

Lastly, Warfarin (Coumadin) interacts with Myrrh. This drug is used to slow blood clotting. Using Myrrh Essential Oil on the regular might decrease how well warfarin (Coumadin) works and could increase the chance of blood clotting.

Turmeric Essential Oil (25% of Synergy)

If you aren’t familiar with Turmeric, you may be familiar with its smell: as it is the key ingredient in curry and many Indian cuisines. It has a spicy, savory, and flavorful aroma that makes you think of hot foods.

Pros:

Turmeric has wonderful pain relief properties! People can use it for joint pain, arthritis, abdominal pain, fibromyalgia, headaches, and menstrual cramps. I’ll add it to my lotion on cramping days, but I’ve been holding off on it lately because I’m trying to lose a little weight and Turmeric makes me hungry.

Relieve digestive upset! It’s great for constipation, diarrhea, intestinal gas, nausea, and loss of appetite. If you’re feeling a little queasy, Turmeric might be your new best friend.

Reduce inflammation! Bloat, retained water, bladder inflammation—Turmeric is here to help you!

Cons:

If you suffer from gallbladder problems, you may want to avoid using Turmeric essential oil, as it may worsen your condition.

Curcurmin (a chemical inside Turmeric) may lower your blood sugar. If you are diabetic, you may want to exercise caution when using this essential oil for prolonged periods. Be sure your blood sugar looks good to go before you use the bath bomb.

Turmeric essential oil may slow blood clotting. If you are taking blood thinners, this blend may not be for you. Also, if you are going to have surgery in the next couple of weeks or just had surgery, don’t use this oil.

Although Turmeric essential oil is considered generally safe, some people have complained about diarrhea when exposed to large quantities. This bath bomb shouldn’t do that to you.

If you have any estrogen or hormone-related conditions (such as breast cancer), don’t use this oil.

Finger Root Essential Oil (20% of Synergy)

Finger Root is a cousin to Ginger and has a slightly earthier smell. It’s also more camphorous than Ginger, as well as has a mildly floral after-scent.

Pros:

Like Ginger, Finger Root works wonders for nausea and digestive upset. If you’re feeling a little queasy and ginger doesn’t do the trick, maybe consider giving finger root a try!

Finger Root is a calming aroma, and works well for meditation, stress relief, and anger management.

Finger Root has decongestant properties and may be able to help you if you’ve got a stuffy nose, any type of nasal drip, or a sinus-related headache.

Finger Root works wonders for your hair and scalp, too. If you suffer from dry winter skin or a flaky scalp, consider putting a drop or two of this essential oil into your shampoo or conditioner!

Cons:

Due to its elevated camphor content, this is not a cat-safe essential oil.

Finger Root may increase your insulin levels, so monitor your blood sugar carefully if you are diabetic or on diabetes-related medications.

Very high dosages of Finger Root may worsen some heart conditions, but bathing in a bath powder shouldn’t be enough to trigger this kind of reaction.

Prolonged usage of Finger Root may increase your risk of bleeding.

A small percentage of the population have reported a dermal sensitivity to Finger Root, but it is generally considered to be universally safe.

Red Thyme Essential Oil (15% of Synergy)

Red Thyme has an unforgettable, warm, herbal smell reminiscent of a dry rub or your first real scents of autumn air. It conjures up thoughts of walking through a forest full of dead, dry leaves on the first cold evening of the season.

Pros:

The medical benefits of Thyme have been known to the Mediterranean part of the world for thousands of years. It is also a commonly prescribed herb in Ayurvedic Medicine.

Alleviate several illnesses! Red Thyme can be used to relieve and reduce the impact of chronic ailments such as gout, chronic fatigue syndrome, menstrual and menopausal problems, and athlete’s foot. It’s also a lovely hangover cure.

It has antidepressant properties! Red Thyme has an anti-anxiety component to its chemical makeup. When diffused or applied with a carrier oil, it can reduce the impact of depression, strengthen cognition, and calm jittery nerves.

It’s an asthma-safe oil and works wonders on respiratory problems! Got a nasty autumn cough you can’t shake? What about the early signs of a sore throat? Red Thyme may be able to help you. It certainly does for me!

Improve your skin! Red Thyme can reduce the amount of sebum your pores extract, meaning it can reduce your chances for acne or sebaceous cysts. It can clear up oily skin, as well as speed up the healing process for scars. As for aged skin, Red Thyme is a wonderful toner.

Reduce hair loss! Red Thyme, when added to shampoos and other hair products, can reduce or even prevent hair loss for some people.

It can be used to improve your oral health! Like Peppermint, Spearmint, Eucalyptus, Rosemary, Lemon, and Wintergreen, Red Thyme Essential Oil can be added to a mouthwash or oral rinse to fix bad breath and improve the health of your gums.

Bugs HATE Red Thyme, so keep the creepy-crawlies at bay! Mosquitoes, lice, moths, ticks, and fleas in particular hate Red Thyme. That said, I really wish roaches were on that list. Your best oil for that is still Peppermint.

Cons

The good news is that there are very few side effects to Red Thyme Essential Oil. It is generally safe for most people to use, but it’s never a bad idea to first consult your physician before adding essential oils to your daily health routine.

This is not a cat-friendly oil. In fact, Red Thyme is listed in several places as one of the worst things you can diffuse around your cat. As much as I love this essential oil, I always lock Gaius out of the room if I choose to diffuse this one.

Some people are allergic to thyme. It’s actually not that uncommon. If you are allergic to other plants in the Lamiaceae family (Basil, Sage, Rosemary, Lavender, etc.), you may have a sensitivity to Red Thyme Essential Oil. Allergies may surface as gastrointestinal issues (fussy stomach, diarrhea, nausea, or vomiting) if ingested.

If you have sensitive skin, do not apply Red Thyme neat to your skin. While Red Thyme is generally safe, some people have experienced inflammation, hives, rashes, itchiness, and redness when the oil is applied to the skin without being properly diluted with a carrier oil. The good news is that Thyme Machine contains fractionated coconut oil as a carrier. If that doesn’t dilute the Thyme enough, the bath water will.

Red Thyme is an emmenagogue and should NOT be used by pregnant women. I use Red Thyme for a number of reasons. One of them is to regulate my period, as it’s started to come a bit more slowly since I started dieting in April (every 5 weeks instead of every 4). Red Thyme has emmenagogue properties, which means that it stimulates menstruation. Menstruation is something you do not want when you’re pregnant, as it could potentially be dangerous for the fetus or trigger premature labor or a miscarriage.

Exercise caution if you have hypertension. Red Thyme can be used to increase circulation, meaning your blood pressure may rise while using this oil. If you are already dealing with hypertension or experience palpitations on the regular, Red Thyme Essential Oil might not play nicely with you.

Exercise caution if you have hyperthyroidism. Red Thyme may stimulate the thyroid gland for some people.

#Feelin' Lava-ly #Maxie #Team Magma #Team Magma Bath Stuff #Skye makes bath bombs #Professor Palmarosa #ProfessorPalmarosa

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