#borrowed whumpees

[frickfrackiwastakingabath]

I want to see borrowers in super hero settings. Like oh not only are you stressed from moving into a new humans house but turns out you decided to hole in the house of a freaking SUPERVILLAIN. Like good luck little buddy, yikes.

Imagine you're a borrower and you discover the human you're staying with has plans to destroy the city. Like you've GOT to go to someone about it surely but holy shit you have to go get a humans attention about this. Terrifying.

[byteofwhump]

to live without the dignity of people

(radmilla and elfreide belong to @dresden-syndrome ; thanks for letting me borrow them ehehehe. cw for noncon kissing, collars, muzzles, hair-pulling, creepy/intimate whumper. this is lady whump, dl;dr. if u saw the version where i mispelled elfreide's name no u didnt)

"you know, kitten," elfreide purrs, "from what i have heard, i expected more from you." she leans down, lifts a strand of radmilla's hair between her fingers, twisting it as if to inspect it.

radmilla glares, even as she can feel her eyes start to water. she wants to scream, to swear, to tear elfreide's throat out with her teeth. she wants to run, run as far from this place that was once her home to anywhere that will take her.

"all that talk," elfreide says, petting radmilla's hair with gentle touches, "and yet, for all you have lost, your precious comrades in arms have gained nothing. at best, they remain the same as they once were. at worst..." she slips a finger below radmilla's collar, a feather-light touch against her skin. "i do so hope they managed to catch the tall one. she would look marvelous on her knees, don't you think?"

radmilla growls, muffled by the muzzle across her face, and tries to swing her head up, pull away. elfreide's hand tightens, cutting off radmilla's growl into a gasp of pain. she pulls the girl's head back, tilts it up until her throat is bared, forces her to struggle to breath against the tension.

"you *lost*, little traitor," elfreide hisses. she flicks the tag on radmilla's ear, smiles to herself at the whimper it draws from the once-proud revolutionary. "now look at you." she forces radmilla's head to turn, angles it so she can see herself in the mirror, a pathetic *thing* kneeling on the floor, collar at her throat and muzzle across her mouth. "bound and gagged at the feet of the very enemy you sought to depose."

tears run down radmilla's face, dripping onto the muzzle. elfreide smiles, leaning down and bringing her lips to radmilla's ear. "*this*, my darling little rebel, is what it means to 'live without the dignity of people'." elfreide brings a hand beneath radmilla's chin, tilts her head so she can lean down and kiss her through the muzzle, licking her lips to taste the savory taste of radmilla's pain that pool there as she throws the girl's own words back in her face.

"i do hope," elfreide purrs, "that you will find it to your liking."

[re-whump]

Glass Eden - Entertainment

your pet lady-snake can have a little borrower, as a treat contains: giant/tiny (size difference), non-human whumpee (borrower and lamia/naga, both tiny), captivity, pet trope, dehumanization, forced to fight, communication barrier note: this is the same the piece posted on my other blog as "Snake Tank", but I'm moving the story over to this blog so I don't have to worry about """crossing a line"""" or whatever taglist @whumpsday

Poe

I threw myself against the glass one last, futile time as I heard the door on the far side of the study creak open. My fingers nearly brushed the lip of the prison I’d been placed in, nearly caught onto that ledge that might let me pry open the lid and make an escape. I was still in the air when I felt his eyes land on me. My fur stiffened as his heavy footsteps approached. His towering form blocked out what sunlight had filtered through the closed window as he sat at his desk.

“You quit that, now. You know you aren’t getting out. Unless you’d like to try speaking with me again?”

I turned to face him rather than wait for him to spin the jar I was sitting in. I slunk to the floor, drawing up my knees as if they could shield me from his . He looked annoyed this time, rather than intrigued. I shook my head and stared at my hands. It wasn’t as if I would want him to dump me into his cold hands even if he wasn’t upset. I was bruised enough.

“I don’t have anything else to say. Sir,” I said.

He rolled his eyes.

“There's no one else!" I insisted. “It’s just me, the others ran away months ago, I’m the only one left.”

It wasn’t the truth, though by now it was close. The Copper family had moved out after Mellie reported that the master of the house was now collecting dangerous, exotic pets in his showroom. It was just the most stubborn of us left, or the most foolish.

“What to do with you, then?” the master of the house hummed.

He tapped a finger on the glass thoughtfully, right behind my head, in case I needed the reminder that my skull was no larger than the tip of his finger. I grimaced and looked back up at his face, where his wide lips twisted into a grotesque smirk. I closed my eyes as they curled back and revealed his teeth. My stomach twisted as he kept talking.

“My …friends tell me your kind is more trouble than you’re worth, more often than not. But perhaps I could get some entertainment out of you?”

“Let me go, please. I’ll leave. I won’t bother you again,” I begged.

“Oh, but I do believe you owe me, little thief. How long have you been squatting here, hm?”

I slumped and curled in on myself. I had thought maybe, just maybe, if this guy cared for a zoo of strange animals, he might have a thread of compassion hiding in his oversized heartstrings. I’d—god, I had bet my life on it, hadn’t I? And now I was going to pay up.

Entertainment.

~~~

Hecate

A hand lifted away the log that I’d been curled up under.

I flinched awkwardly at the sudden light, then rolled to face the front of my enclosure. The man liked it when I “looked” at him. I couldn’t tell if he knew I was blind or not. All my eyes told me was that there was a large, blurry shadow standing over the tank. It could’ve been a tree, for all my eyes could understand.

I knew it was him though. I could sense his blazing warmth through other means. More importantly, I could smell him.

Then, the hands. The nice hands. The man. Hugh Morton.

I smelled something else, too, something new. Another person, maybe? I listened intently for another heartbeat, another guest. I didn’t want to be shown off right now. I wanted to go back to sleep.

His hand reached back down to ruffle my hair, then run a rough finger across my scales. He rumbled something about feeding and I slumped back down to crawl back to bed. I wasn't hungry enough to want to fight and for all the good these hands did, they never killed my meals for me like the last ones did.

"Don't be so fussy, Hecate, I’m giving you a treat,” he chided. The ground shook as he flicked a finger against the glass wall. “You must get bored lying around in there all night.”

I huffed and and backed into a better position, against the side of one of my ceramic caves. I was still nursing a bite on my flank from my last meal. 

I licked the air and frowned as Hugh slid open one half of the wall. This prey was not a creature I knew. Hugh’s hands dangled a warm shadow by a long tail, then flicked it into the soil and the prey squeaked as it landed. It didn’t smell like a rat or any other rodent I’d encountered before.

It did smell afraid.

It already understood it was being hunted. I didn’t like that. Scared meals fought back. I had scars to prove it.

Hugh scoffed in annoyance as the creature scrambled towards the opening in the glass. He knocked it back into the enclosure several times while I waited for a chance to strike.

“Don't make me break your legs," Hugh sighed.

The creature stopped moving. Strange. Its little heart was hot and hammering. Was it trained? Why would anyone take the time to train food? Maybe it was simply afraid of Hugh’s voice. 

I took advantage of its stillness and lunged. It turned to run in the split-second before we collided. It slammed into one of my open arms. I fumbled as it flailed, then got myself curled around it anyway.

It felt strange against my scales. Not furry. Not naked. Synthetic. Was it wrapped? Humans wrapped their food, but not mine. They used those crinkling papers. This was wrapped in something soft.

Was it clothed?

I hesitated in my confusion and the prey bit back. Something long and sharp stabbed in between two ventral scales. I flinched, hissing, and the prey slipped away. It left the sharp thing behind, but it didn’t bleed. I put a hand on the sharp thing and realized it wasn’t a tooth. It had some kind of handle. Plastic. The point was metal. Some kind of tiny knife? I swayed uncertainly and let the little creature run.

What was he feeding me?

~

Poe

It had never occurred to me that there might be peoples other than humans and my own kind living in this world. I wished I had the time to find out more about her.

The caged creature I had been placed with was, as most things were, comparatively massive. Its front was that of a vaguely humanoid woman, small, but still more than twice the size of my own top half. Her eyes were vacant and unfocussed. She was pale, fat, and lined with scars that told me she had much more experience than myself in fighting. 

The bulk of her body was what truly scared me. She was a python that trailed lazily across the near half of the terrarium. She was coiled, so I could only guess at her true length, but her girth was easy to make out. I regularly crawled through tunnels narrower than this snake, making it all too easy to understand what would happen to me. That the master of the house had returned my thumbtack seemed like a joke. I had no prayer here. This would be a cruel combination of all the worst deaths I'd been taught to fear—caught, crushed, and consumed.

As entertainment!

I wanted to refuse him the satisfaction. I let myself lie down and cry as the master of the house threw me back into the dirt with an unambiguous threat. I might as well. No one else would know to mourn me for weeks, even months.

It would turn out that my inborn will to survive was stronger than my desire to spite the host I'd lived under for so many years. I rolled out of the way, only a split second two late, as the snake woman pounced. She caught me in the crook of her elbow then shoved me into a wall of scaled muscle. The python whipped around me before I could take a breath. I barely had the space to think, never mind resist. It was sheer luck that wedged my thumbtack between two plates of her underbelly.

And it was enough. She spasmed and let go of me.

I fell forward into the dirt, coughing to refill my aching lungs. I don’t think she had left any part of me unbruised, though didn’t waste time taking inventory of my injuries.

“Hey, don’t let it get away now, girl, get up!"

I scowled up at the master of the house as I pushed onto my feet. There was nowhere for me to get away to, not while he was leering over the open door.

I didn't understand him.

I didn't understand how a thinking creature such as himself, with all his power and all his resources, would resort to blood sport for entertainment. The study I'd spent my life beneath had a beautiful library. Page after page told of the world's endless mysteries, of beauty and majesty and life for him to go out and pursue. And he would choose to spend his time watching some monster eat me alive.

I saw the snake-woman moving out of the corner of my eye. My stomach twisted at the utter silence of her movement over the dirt even before she started sliding towards me, and then it was like a switch went off in my head. Gone was higher thought, blown away by the sheer force of the ancient instinct to run.

The terrarium was full and well-decorated, with plenty of greenery both faux and alive as well as several dark spaces to hide. I doubted any would shelter me, this place had been built for her. 

I had nowhere to go and I ran and I ran and I hit the glass and I ran and there was a branch so I climbed it and I reached the ceiling and there was more glass and I turned around and there she was crawling after me and I jumped and her hand brushed my leg and I kicked and she fell  around me like an avalanche and it was over.

Her long body surrounded me and as soon as I moved, she struck. Walls of scales encased me again and this time, no tack would save me. Everything went dark.

Several seconds passed. She loosed her grip. I heard the master’s muffled voice droning through her flank. I took a breath and shuddered. Long minutes of silence passed and the knot she’d wrapped me in fell away. 

I admit I didn’t know much about snakes, but she didn’t seem to be very good at this.

I sprung to my feet, desperate to get at least a few inches between us again, but her hand wrapped around my face. She grabbed the back of my shirt’s neckline with her other hand and I thrashed as she pulled me off the ground.

Slowly, her palm pulled away from my face. She rubbed two fingers over my eyes, traced the curve of my nose, and drew a thumb across my lips. I bit down as hard as I could. She barely flinched, just wiped a little blood off on the side of my face.

“Beb?” she croaked.

Her blank eyes narrowed in concentration as her tongue flicked out of her mouth and brushed against my nose. Tasting me. Her lips twitched. I felt cold.

“No, please! Please, please, please, kill me first, please,” I cried.

She tilted her head to the side. Her tongue flickered twice more and both times I flinched. She babbled something in a tortured voice. 

“Please,” I begged. “If you can even understand me, please, just kill me before you eat me. I don’t want to suffer.” 

She frowned and hissed several times. My blood trembled through my veins. She slowly shaped her tongue around some word I did not know. She patted my head and sighed, then set me gently on the dirt beside her and slithered away.

~

Hecate

The prey had the face of a person.

The little thing was clever enough to talk, but not smart enough to understand me. They were small like a hatchling. They ran on legs like a bird. 

They screamed and cried so once Hugh gave up on watching me eat, I let the little one have some space, whatever they were.

I hoped they would come back to me. They were very warm. Like the sun, but in a person. Like food. Like Hugh.

Like this lovely little cave in the back of the tank. I curled up and burrowed into myself for a cozy rest.

I hoped they wouldn’t try to kill me while I slept.

[shywhumpauthor]

Punch your whumpees in the throat.

Hard enough for them to gasp and choke, rendering them unable to breathe right for a good few minutes. Their voice will come out strangled and so pitiful you’ll have to laugh.

It’ll be so sore for days after, and it’ll leave one hell of a bruise.

Why not?

(Prompt 17)

[faofinn]

No. 30 "It's okay just to say 'I'm not okay'."

Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | "Not much longer.”

"I could have said you look awful." 

She slapped him good naturedly. "Finn!"

"I said I could have!" He protested, but quickly softened. "You do look exhausted though. Did you get any rest?"

"Maybe? I must have, I came down here earlier, you woke me up." 

"You didn't look comfortable in the slightest." He admitted. "I was worried about you. I am worried about you."

 "I'll always want you to wake me when you get in." She took a breath, rubbing her face. "I might head back to bed though. I do feel a bit rubbish."

"You look it. That's all I meant. I'm just worried about you."

She forced a smile. "I'm fine."

"Mm. Well, I'm tired. You coming to bed with me?"

"That's how we got in this mess." She teased. 

Finn offered her his hands, smirking with a hint of pride. "I know."

She laughed, taking his hands and pulling herself up. The dizziness that was always there got so much worse, and the ringing in her ears was deafening. Against her will, her legs gave out, her vision blurred and darkening. 

"Whoa, hey. Careful, I've got you, I've got you." Finn helped her back down, his arm around her back. "What's wrong?"

She could see Finn talking to her, but she couldn't make out his words. She squeezed her eyes shut, moving to lie down in hopes it would help. Finn carefully swung her legs up, brushing her hair from her face. 

"You're okay, it’s okay. You're okay." As worried as he was, she didn't need the stress of him showing it. With his other hand, he called Fao, just in case.

Fao had just crawled into bed, exhausted after a long night working with Fred and the others, when his phone rang. Groaning, he reached for it, only to see Finn’s name on the screen. He was literally downstairs, why was he calling?

“Finn?”

“Can you meet me in the basement? Jess has done a you.”

“I don’t appreciate that expression.” Fao grumbled, but swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll be five minutes.”

“Thanks, Fao.” He hung up, moving to carry Jess. “We won’t be downstairs long.”

“I’m fine, really.” She protested, though her words fell on deaf ears as she leaned into him.

“Mhmm. You’re only proving my point.” He teased.

She grinned. “I know.”

She laughed, taking his hands and pulling herself up. The dizziness that was always there got so much worse, and the ringing in her ears was deafening. Against her will, her legs gave out, her vision blurred and darkening. 

"Whoa, hey. Careful, I've got you, I've got you." Finn helped her back down, his arm around her back. "What's wrong?"

She could see Finn talking to her, but she couldn't make out his words. She squeezed her eyes shut, moving to lie down in hopes it would help. Finn carefully swung her legs up, brushing her hair from her face. 

"You're okay, it’s okay. You're okay." As worried as he was, she didn't need the stress of him showing it. With his other hand, he called Fao, just in case.

Fao had just crawled into bed, exhausted after a long night working with Fred and the others, when his phone rang. Groaning, he reached for it, only to see Finn’s name on the screen. He was literally downstairs, why was he calling?

“Finn?”

“Can you meet me in the basement? Jess has done a you.”

“I don’t appreciate that expression.” Fao grumbled, but swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll be five minutes.”

“Thanks, Fao.” He hung up, moving to carry Jess. “We won’t be downstairs long.”

“I’m fine, really.” She protested, though her words fell on deaf ears as she leaned into him.

“Mhmm. You’re only proving my point.” He teased.

She grinned. “I know.”

Fao met the pair of them downstairs, already grabbing a couple of bits he thought he might need, the bedspace ready for Jess. He met Finn at the door, leading him through to set Jess down on the bed. 

“Right, what’ve you two been up to? I’d just got into bed.”

“Can you sort some fluids, antiemetics, and some sleeping meds?” Finn asked.

“Got the fluids and antiemetics out when you said she’d ‘done a me’. I’ll go grab the sleeping meds.” He said softly. “Anything else going on that I should know about?”

Jess rubbed her eyes. “Finn’s just fussing.”

“Yeah, he does that, but it’s usually justified.” Fao said, slipping out for a second to get the rest of the meds. “Can you do some obs, Finn?” 

“Yeah, course.” He pottered around Jess, ignoring her protests and placating her with a soft kiss to her temple. “The quieter you are, the less you fuss, the sooner we can go to bed.”

“I don’t need all this fuss anyways.” 

“You know you do, you’re just being stubborn.”

“Just because you're right for once, it doesn’t mean you get to have such a shit eating grin!” She shot back.

“Somehow, even though I think I won that, it was my feelings that got hurt.” He teased.

Fao came back with the meds after a few moments, shaking his head at the pair of them. “Finn, you argue with a criminal defence lawyer and you’re still surprised she beats you?” He shot back, looking over the numbers on the screen. Shit blood pressure, but nothing that was screaming at him. “Mm, no wonder you feel like shit. Can I get a cannula in for you, get you some fluids?”

"Do I have a choice?" She laughed, holding her arm out. "Go for it."

Fao laughed. “You always have a choice, you might just get bollocked for making the wrong choice.” He joked, slipping the tourniquet round her bicep and finding a vein he liked the look of. “Sharp scratch.” He warned, and neatly got the cannula in. He got it taped and secured, happy it flushed, and then could start running the fluids. 

She hummed. “Thanks, Fao. Sorry for getting you out of bed. Yous must have been busy, Finn looked exhausted.”

“I still don’t look as bad as you.” Finn shot back.

“It’s okay, I probably wouldn’t have slept anyways.” He said. “And you’re nice to me, Finn’s usually a dick when I have to treat him.”

"Get some meds and join me?"

"You're both being dicks! And now you're asking Fao to join you in bed." Finn teased with a laugh, though pretended to be mad. "Maybe I should just go find Ely."

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Fao shot back. “I’ve got tablets for the antisickness and the sleeping stuff. Think you can take them?” Fao asked. 

"Yeah, sure."

“As much as I’m sure you want your bed, it’s probably best if you stay down here with those fluids running.” He said, offering her the antisickness with a cup of water. 

"Thank you."

“Want to take the sleeping tablet now too? And get some rest down here?” 

"Maybe I should. "

“I can offer you plenty of blankets, and I think Finn left a hoodie down here?”

"Here, have this one." Finn pulled it over his head, holding it out for her. "It's warm, too."

Jess grinned, taking it happily. "Thank you, Finn."

“That’s settled, then. Sleeping tablet is here, and I’ll go grab those blankets for you.” Fao said, standing up. 

Finn helped her pull the tubes through the hoodie, and then hopped up on the bed next to her. "I'm sorry you're struggling so much with our Bean."

She nestled in. "I'd say it's not your fault, but…"

"You're half at fault too, and anyway, you enjoyed it."

"Finn!" She laughed, shaking her head. "You need to stop using that as an excuse every time!

Fao had just reappeared with plenty of blankets, and shook his head in disbelief. “You two are the worst. Here are your blankets, I’m gonna go and pass out on the sofa. Shout if you need me.” He draped the blankets over the pair of them. 

"Mm. Thanks, Fao." Finn grinned. "Why not use the bed? Better than the sofa."

“Yeah, let’s see how far I get.”

"You need to look after yourself too." Jess murmured, surprisingly starting to feel the pull of the meds. 

“Get some rest, you two. I’ll be around if you need me.” Fao said, and slipped off to get some rest himself. 

“Y’know, Jess, it's okay just to say 'I'm not okay'." Finn said softly, moreserious than he had been. “You need to put yourself first for a change.”

“‘m sleeping, Finn. Don’t be mean.” She tried to joke, though there were tears in her eyes as she looked away from Finn.

He wrapped his arms tighter around her. “No, I know, I know. It’s hard, I know. You’re doing brilliantly, if only you’d see what we do. You’d see why we love you so much.”

[in-love-with-writing-whump]

Prompt

"Even if it's just one night, I want to spend it with you, Whumpee."

Whumpee's eyes shined with tears as they held Caretaker close to them in a warm embrace. They knew what they had to do on the battlefield tomorrow, but they could live with it.

Just as long as they had this one last night.

[letitbehurt]

When Whumpee is in public with Whumper, perhaps at a social event, and Whumpee gets a little too bold. They start assuming they can speak without first being spoken to. Their lingering glance at a kind stranger who’d asked if they were well sours Whumper’s mood. They accept a dance from that same stranger as if they have the right not to look to Whumper first, to seek their approval before being borrowed for the length of a song.

When Whumpee returns from the dance, Whumper pulls them in roughly by the arm. They hiss a threat into Whumpee’s ear, pressing hard on a fresh bruise beneath their clothes as they remind Whumpee that they’re a possession—nothing more than a statement piece meant to adorn Whumper’s arm.

Whumpee is glued to Whumper’s side the rest of the night, pretty and silent, Whumper’s threat ringing in their ears. They don’t dare to meet the kind stranger’s eyes again. They fear what will happen if they do.

[whumperwithwings]

Sicktember Day 7

Borrowed Hoodie

"Whumpee, why are you wearing my hoodie?" Caretaker asked with a chuckle in their voice.

"Cause' it's warm and big and cozy just like you," Whumpee said drowsily, wrapping their arms around Caretaker "And I like that."

[whump-about-it]

Can I Stay Here Tonight?

@whumpril Day 8: Bloodshot

CW: injuries, implied beating, implied torture, implied captivity, exhaustion, implication that Whumpee may be in hiding and/or unhoused

It wasn't unusual for Whumpee to go missing for days or even weeks at a time. No one ever really knew where they went when they disappeared, But they always came back, and usually in one piece. So everyone had long since stopped worrying.

Caretaker had barely even noticed Whumpee was missing again. Only just realizing they hadn't seen them in nearly a week the same night Whumpee showed up again.

It had been raining cats and dogs all day, and Carertaker was having a pleasent evening in, watching trash tv with their roommate and playing a game of cards when the window that lead onto their fire escape eeked open and Whumpee came tumbling in.

"We have a door you know." Roommate told them, barely fazed by Whumpee's random appearance. Whumpee had a talent for slipping in and out of places unnoticed. And considering the late hour, they had probably assumed the roommates would be a sleep.

Whumpee stood up and closed the window again behind them before so much as acknowledging the apartment owners, who stayed on the couch watching them curiously. They were soaking wet. Unsurprising considering they had just climbed three stories on an outdoor stairway. Their usually baggy clothing clung to their skin, reminding Caretaker nauseatingly of just how small Whumpee actually was. It also didn't escape Caretaker's notice that Whumpee was wearing the same clothing that they had been in the last time the two had seen each other; some five days before.

"Sorry to intrude." Whumpee said in a dead pan voice when they finally turned to look at Caretaker and Roommate. They had dark circles under their eyes and a cut next to their left ear. Caretaker thought they looked paler than usual, but it could have just been the way their water-darkened hair stuck to their face.

"I just need to borrow your bathroom."

It was the only explanation Whumpee gave before they walked past Caretaker and Roommate towards their bathroom down the hall, water dripping them their sopping clothes as they went. Caretaker's eyes followed Whumpee as they disappeared. There was a tired slump to their shoulders and an unevenness to their gait that made Caretaker think they were concealing a limp.

"First aid kit's under the sink!" Caretaker called after them, but Whumpee gave no indication of having heard. As soon as Caretaker heard the sound of the bathroom door click shut they turned back to Roommate and frowned. Roommate didn't look too pleased about Whumpee's sudden appearance in their apartment. Those two were not each others biggest fans, but they put up with one another for Caretaker's sake, so Roommate seemed to have decided to keep their mouth shut for now.

"I should go check on them."

Roommate nodded in agreement.

"I'll put a kettle on."

Caretaker went to their room and grabbed a clean pair of sweat pants and a fresh t-shirt they didn't think would be too baggy on Whumpee before giving the bathroom door a courteous knock and entering. They knew Whumpee would have preferred their privacy, and probably would have locked the door if they could. But as it was, the lock on the bathroom door had been broken as long as Caretaker and Roommate had been lived in the place, and it was Caretaker's place after all, so they refused to feel bad about inviting themselves in.

Inside the bathroom Whumpee had stripped down to their underwear and was sitting perched on the edge of the bathtub, the first aid kit sitting open on the lowered toilet lid next to them. Mostly nude, it was obvious Whumpee had been in some kind of trouble. They had bruises all up their torso and arms. There was another scabbing over cut on their collar bone similar to the one by their ear, and shredded up skin on the outside of their left leg from mid-calf to upper thigh that looked like they had lost a fight with a cheese grater. Their knuckles were scabbed and bruised and there were concerningly dark purple bruises around their wrists. The worst of their injuries however seemed to be a series of deep gashes on their forearm that Whumpee was currently picking glass out of with a pair of tweezers.

"I'm fine." Whumpee said defensively, barely looking up at Caretaker as they walked in.

"Yeah, you look fantastic." Caretaker set the clothes down on the vanity and went to crouch next to Whumpee. It was by no means the worst condition Whumpee had ever stumbled into their apartment in, but they didn't look good either. Up close, Caretaker could tell that Whumpee was indeed paler than usual. And their eyes were deeply bloodshot. In fact their whole body language screamed at exhaustion, and Caretaker wondered if they had slept at all since they'd last seen them.

Caretaker knew better than to ask what had happened. Or where Whumpee had disappeared to. Whumpee had never lied to Caretaker, but they would down right refuse to answer such questions. The two had spent days worth of time arguing about it. Caretaker wanted to help. Of course they did, and they'd rather prevent Whumpee from getting hurt than patch them up after the fact. But Whumpee had their secrets, and as they often liked to point out during their fights, Caretaker had known that when their lives had first become intertwined with one another. Caretaker knew Whumpee thought they were protecting them by keeping so many secrets from them. But they also knew Whumpee could disappear and Caretaker would never see or hear from them again if they tried to dig to deep. So they resigned themselves, as they always had, to helping Whumpee where they were permitted too, and praying they knew their limits otherwise.

They watched Whumpee for a few seconds as they tried to pick the pieces of dark colored glass out of their own weeping arm. They weren't doing a very good job of it. Their hands were shaking violently. Whether from cold, or pain, or tiredness, Caretaker didn't know.

"Here, let me." They finally said and plucked the tweezers from Whumpee's trembling hands before they could refuse. It was a testament to just how awful Whumpee must have been feeling that they in fact didn't refuse Caretaker's help, and even turned their arm to give Caretaker a better angle on their wound.

They didn't flinch as Caretaker plucked the tiny pieces of glass from their skin. They almost never did. Caretaker did however pretend not to notice the way their eyes were getting waterier and more bloodshot as they worked. Soon enough all the glass was out of the wound and Caretaker was cleaning it with an alcohol swab and taping a gauze pad over it. Whumpee gave an audible hiss when the alcohol made contact with heir broken skin, but still didn't move. Afterwards, Caretaker insisted that they be aloud to clean the road rash on Whumpee's leg as well before they put clothes back on. Whumpee gave in oddly easily and leaned their head against the wall as Caretaker worked, their red eyes slipping closed slowly.

It must have been the exhaustion that was making them so malleable. Whumpee was never this easy.

"You were hoping Roommate and I wouldn't catch you breaking in didn't you?" Caretaker poked gently as they worked, wondering if Whumpee may just be tired enough to let something slip.

Whumpee hummed in response and nodded vaguely, still not opening their eyes.

"Done it before." They mumbled after a second. The only surprising thing about that was that they admit it.

"Were you in handcuffs?" Caretaker decided to poke a little deeper. They were almost finished with Whumpee's leg, and those bruises on their wrists did look very painful. Even half asleep though Whumpee knew better than to let their guard slip, and the two remained in silence with the unanswered question hanging between them, until Caretaker was finished working and the kettle was whistling in the kitchen.

"There," Caretaker said resolutely when they'd finished. "Now put on the dry clothes, and where ever you want to disappear too tonight, you're at least staying for a cup of tea first."

Caretaker stood to leave, considering where they should situate themselves outside the bathroom to make sure Whumpee didn't slip out any windows without making it look like they were hovering. Before they could make it more than two steps however, Whumpee had reached out a hand and weakly grabbed Caretakers wrist.

"Can I stay here tonight?" Whumpee asked in a meek tired voice. They looked up at Caretaker with what they could have only describe as puppy eyes. If puppies eyes were usually glassed over and bloodshot that is. It was still enough to crumble any resolve Caretaker might have had about the situation, if there had ever been any in the first place. Whumpee rarely asked Caretaker for anything, and they had never asked to spend the night. Whatever had happened to them this time, it must have been worse their physical injuries let on.

"Of Course you can. You never have to ask that. You're always welcome here."

[frickfrackiwastakingabath]

Little loser animal fairy encounters two witches and a chained coyote

(Plus another loser fairy who isn't as scared of humans as she should be)

[whump-in-the-closet]

💊 for the medical prompt ask game!

- @another-whump-sideblog

Forced to swallow pills

thanks for the ask!

cw: misuse of the medical practice, medical whump, noncon drugging, implied pet whump?, absolute fuckwit of a Whumper, implied torture, implied captivity, whumpee is in their late teens but called "kiddo"

Whumper talked with the doctor like she was an old friend, one hand clamped over Whumpee's shoulder.

Whumpee didn't know despair felt like nausea. They swayed on their feet, colors blurring. They knew that under the frigid, fluorescent light of the doctor's office, they looked like shit.

Powerless.

Miserable.

Hair too long and clothes too big, clearly borrowed. They weren't wearing shoes and stood in their socks, wiggling their toes on the tiles.

"Whumpee," Whumper smiled their name, one thumb tracing their cheek.

Whumpee snapped out of it. "Huh?"

Whumper's expression darkened and his grip tightened on their face, squeezing their chin.

Wrong answer.

"Sorry--" Whumpee choked. "Sir, sorry!"

Whumper's grip relaxed and he moved to place a hand on the small of Whumpee's back.

Whumpee stiffened when he pressed down on the fresh wounds. "I said sorry!" The defiance was a spluttering flame, dying out every second it was exposed to the light. It was quickly replaced with terror-- synonymous with Whumper's smile.

But Whumper was talking again, guiding them to the small bed. "See," he said to the doctor. "I can have them ready for service within a week, but..."

The doctor shrugged "It's a tight schedule." She looked from Whumpee, who sat on the edge of the bed, to Whumper. Sighed. "After this, don't bring any more of your strays in here."

Whumper chuckled, and it was a dangerous sound.

Whumpee flinched without meaning too.

The doctor frowned. "I mean it."

"Sure, sweetheart."

The doctor ignored him and started writing down notes on her clipboard. She rifled through her cupboards before pulling out an orange, unnamed bottle from the back. With tired movements, tapped two pills into the palm of her hand.

She crouched next to Whumpee with the pills and a glass of water. "Hey, kiddo." Her voice was kinder than they expected. Calming, like the sound of the ocean in a seashell.

"H--hey."

"You're going to be okay," said the doctor.

They looked up.

Her eyes were brown and exhausted, holding a weight to them that Whumpee didn't quite understand. "Really?" They wanted to believe her.

They wanted to believe her so badly. They were ready to cling on to any comfort, any hope thrown at them.

The doctor dropped her gaze. "No," she whispered, the word escaping without her meaning for it to.

Whumpee shrank back.

"But you should take these." She offered the pills.

The nausea became stronger. Whumpee tried to push them away, shaking their head. "No! I'm not-- I don't want--"

It was no use.

Whumper grabbed their wrists, pinning them behind their back with minimal effort. He nodded to the doctor, impatience edging its way into his voice. "Get on with it. I don't have all night."

The doctor refused to meet Whumpee's eyes as she pinched their nose shut.

It was a brief struggle.

Flailing limbs and black in the corners of their vision.

The pills swallowed.

Whumpee gagged. And gagged again.

Whumper released them, and they doubled over coughing. If they cried, they didn't realize it. They were trembling, limbs hardly their own.

Nothing was their own.

Nothing.

They dry heaved.

Whumper ruffled their hair and picked them up. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

Whumpee's vision slid into shadows and vague shapes. The corners became fogged over and the sudden sensation of being lifted filled their head with white noise-- like the sound of the ocean distorted through a sea shell.

[serickswrites]

Dangerous Game

Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, escape, rescue, threat of death

Whumper stared down at Whumpee. Whumpee could barely breathe around their hammering heart. Whumper had caught them days ago and had tied them up here at the compound. And then not touched them. Though they knew it had to be coming. And so when the door to their compound banged open and Whumper stalked in, Whumpee knew their borrowed time had run out.

"What....what do you want from me?" Whumpee tried to slow their breath. Tried to do everything they could to calm themselves.

Whumper smiled. "I want something fun."

"Fun?" Whumpee didn't understand.

"Yes. Fun. Are you stupid or something?" Whumper sneered. "My last several prisoners were very boring. But I'm hoping you're different. Caretaker and their team to hold you in such high regard. You have to be different." Whumper fingered the knife at their belt.

Whumpee swallowed. Caretaker. The team. They were hunting Whumper. They had all been hunting Whumper. And somehow Whumpee had been the only one to get caught. The team was looking for them. Caretaker was looking for them. "I'm flattered you would think I would bring you fun, Whumper." Perhaps they could just use their words to distract Whumper.

Whumper rolled their eyes. "Don't try to trick me, it won't work." They raised their hand and Whumpee flinched. Whumper grinned again. "I came to make you a deal, Whumpee."

Whumpee took a deep breath. They had to keep their wits about them. Whumper was smart. Whumper was cunning. And Whumper was deadly. "What kind of deal?"

"The kind that only comes once in a lifetime." Whumper watched Whumpee expectantly.

"That's very kind of you, Whumper. I'm listening."

"You know what I am. You know what I do." Whumpee nodded. "Then you know what will happen if you don't win our game."

"Game?"

"Yes, Whumpee, game. It's simple, really. If you can make it out of the compound, you go free."

"That's very nice of you, Whumper. Thank you." Whumpee tried to not let the hope they felt in their heart show. If Whumper knew how hopeful Whumpee was, they would take the deal away. Perhaps that was the game: to squash Whumpee's hope before torturing them to death.

"Yeah, well that's a big if. No one has escaped yet. Because I always win. If you can make it out of the compound before I catch you, you're free, Whumpee. I won't try to pursue you past the front door. But if I catch you, I win. And I get my prize." Whumper's eyes glinted with wicked joy.

"Prize....what prize?"

"You. You're my prize. If I win, I get to take as much time as I like to slowly, painfully end your life. If I win, Whumpee, you're going to wish you were dead long before death comes to claim you."

Whumpee swallowed. "And if I refuse to play?"

Whumper frowned. "Then I get my prize now. But that's boring. Don't be boring, Whumpee."

"But who's to say that there even is a way out. You could be just toying with me now." The words tumbled out of Whumpee's mouth before Whumpee could stop themself.

Whumper smirked. "And there's the real you. Don't worry. I won't hold it against you. Just know that I don't lie. There is a way out. And if you can find it, I'll let you go. Do we have a deal?"

Bile crept up Whumpee's throat. What choice did they have? Certain death now or the possibility of escape and freedom? How close was Caretaker and the team? Could they endure torture long enough to be rescued? Could they risk that.

Whumpee nodded. "We have a deal, Whumper."

[whumpshaped]

anon asked:

Prompt for siren whumper hypnotizing whumpee and keeping them as a pet cause they’re bored. (They also cast some sort of spell that shifts whumpee into a half mermaid, with gills and what not but no tail so that whumper can always catch up to them)

---

tw nonhuman whumper (siren), mind control, drowning, dehumanisation, it/its used to dehumanise

“Mmm, what should I do with you…” Whumper mused, idly flicking water at the human with their tail as they thought. The poor thing was absolutely drenched, standing chest-deep in the lake with an adoring look on its stupid little face, and Whumper couldn’t help but wonder how prettily it’d struggle if they were to drown it. “Are you fun, human?”

“I can be whatever you–” Whumper cut it off by splashing water in its face, making it cough and sputter. “–whatever you want…” it rasped. Well, at least it looked sufficiently entertaining while in discomfort.

“Can you swim, pretty thing?”

Its face lit up at the question. “Of course. Quite well. Not as well as you, of course, I’m merely human–”

“Do you always talk so much?” 

The human’s jaws snapped shut. It shook its head. A quick learner, at least compared to the other humans Whumper had seen. 

“Alright, I’ve decided.” They swam closer, taking the human by the hand and dragging it further into the water. “I’m gonna keep you for a while. Until I get bored.”

“You will? I’ll do–”

Whumper shoved its head underwater, wrapping their tail around its legs to keep it from struggling or trying to get back to the surface. It was no match for a creature like them, and as they watched it flail and slowly suffocate, they began to question their decision. Maybe they should just let it die. Maybe its flesh would taste better than the amount of entertainment they would be able to squeeze out of it. Maybe it wasn’t worth the hassle of a spell.

But they went through with it in the end, granting the human some borrowed gills and webbing between its fingers. They had no idea what constituted good swimming among these misguided mammals, but they had a feeling it wasn’t what they would’ve considered good. 

No tail, though. A toy fish was only fun when it was helpless, and they hadn’t just wasted this amount of magic on something they intended to lose.

[re-whump]

Day 5 - Concussed Caretaking

more Mozzy! maybe catching a break! it's a little over 500 words, oopsie. and on a comfort prompt, can you believe? (you should, it's what happens when I don't take time to edit) contains: tiny whumpee (borrower), concussed whumpee, unprepared caretaker

Mozzy was on the ground, soaked and freezing and vulnerable, and before they could blink, they were on their lying back under bright lights. It was dry. Their coat was missing. They were on a folded towel or something else soft. Warm. Inside. It smelled like…food? Old grease and something sweet. Some kind of kitchen.

They glared at the ambient brightness as they slowly sat up to try to get their bearings. Their head was killing them. It felt like a vise meant to pop their eyeballs and it made their vision even blurrier than usual. They hardly wanted anything more than to lay back down and get more sleep, but they knew they weren’t safe here, wherever here might be. It was bright and open and that meant they were basically serving them up to whatever hungry predator happened to wander by.

When Mozzy stood up, the light on the horizon shifted into a large shadow that fell towards them. They flinched automatically at the movement and stumbled in the opposite direction. The shadowy shape came into focus just before it reached them and they tripped over their own shock. Their tail just hurt when they tried to catch themself and landed against splayed fingers, each nearly as long as Mozzy was tall. They were too afraid to move except for the slight sway from their lost balance until the hand gently guided them back to where they’d woken up.

“Okay, no, we’re still gonna sit here for a bit, hm? Lay down?” the human said.

Mozzy stared up towards the rest of the shadowy figure. The lights around the edges burned and their eyes really didn’t want to focus on it besides confirmation that the human certainly did have a face. Dark hair, maybe?

The hand let go of them and tapped the towel several times to try and coax them back into bed. They waited for the hand to pull away then broke into a run.

Or, into a stumble. Between their broken—missing!—tail and whatever was happening with their head, their legs were having trouble remembering how gravity worked. The human caught Mozzy again and this time the fingers curled around them and pulled them off their feet.

“Hey, hey. You can’t run off yet. Sit down or you’re going to hurt yourself. You almost ran straight off the table, you know.”

Mozzy shook their head and struggled as the human lowered them back into the makeshift bed. Before they could even try to get to their feet, she tucked a corner towel over them and held them down for a second. They thrashed, but this was more than warning enough that she could crush them whenever she wanted. They went still.

Her hand drifted away to poke at another light Mozzy assumed was her phone. Calling someone? Photographing them? That, they couldn’t see no matter how hard they squinted their blurry eyes. A few more taps of glass and her hand returned to stroke the side of Mozzy's head.

They didn’t like being under her hand one bit, but they could admit the motion was about comforting enough to balance out that discomfort. They closed their eyes and pretended they didn’t know what it was that was touching them. Or maybe just that they didn’t know they shouldn’t trust a human so easily.

“I know this is my fault, I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t know”—she swallowed the rest of the sentence and her voice forced a smile—“It looks like we finally got your tail to stop, um, oozing though. God, I’m sorry. I don’t suppose you’ve got some secret, tiny doctor around I could take you to?”

Mozzy shook their head.

“Then guess I’m the best you’ve got, sorry. I don’t think anyone is stubborn enough to be out this way in this storm except me. And apparently you.”

They shrugged deeper into the towel-blanket with a resigned sigh. They were so sleepy they relaxed easily into the thick terry cotton even with the giant looming over them. It was at least as comfortable than most of the beds they'd had over the years. And surely, having her messy help was better than facing this alone.

[aswallowssong]

Sicktember 2024 #7: Borrowed Hoodie

The idea for this was, literally, "Aaron’s hoodie being passed around like a healing balm." It was @themetaphorgirl's prompt, and I love her for it, because if there's anything I love, it's when the person that's usually the whumpee becomes the caretaker, even in the short form. Honorable mention comment goes to @fragolinaa, who said, and I quote: "Alex calling him Aaron is the equivalent of showing a glock"

Spencer

“I’m tired,” Spencer mumbled against Aaron’s side. It was Friday night, and they were at another one of Derek’s football games. Aaron knew the rules of football against his will, having been Derek’s roommate the year before, but it seemed that no matter how many times he tried to explain them to Spencer, it wasn’t sticking.

That, or Spencer couldn’t get over why a sport about passing and running had to be so violent. He didn’t like it when they tackled one another, which was every play, and he really didn’t like it when Derek got tackled. 

“I know, Bug,” Aaron said gently, pulling Spencer closer to him as his eyes stayed locked on the field. It was getting colder as the season went on, and Spencer was shivering, so some extra snuggles were in order.

“I wanna go home,” Spencer whined, flopping down so his head could lay in Aaron’s lap. 

Aaron ruffled his hair. “I know, Bug,” he echoed. “The game’s almost over. I told Derek we’d try to stay for the whole thing. There’s four minutes left.”

“That could take a million years,” Spencer mumbled, and when Aaron’s hand paused against Spencer’s scalp, he noticed how warm his ‘little brother’ felt. 

His mouth tugged down into a frown, and he looked over at Alex, but she wasn’t watching them. She was buried in her book, her back against James’ side while he watched with rapt attention. James liked to give Derek specific praise after his games – something he said that Ned always did for him – and while it was sweet, it made him oblivious to the world for the two hours they were on the bleachers.

“Bug?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Spencer nestled further into Aaron’s lap, the tip of his thumb between his teeth. “Mm. ‘m cold.”

Aaron sighed. Spencer ran mystery fevers all the time, and they usually found out the cause later in the night, or the next day. Some cold, or flu, or worse, a stomach bug that reared its ugly head and made them all stressed out for a week, and usually got Aaron sick, too, in the process.

He thought for a second before stripping off his hoodie, and then laying it over Spencer like a blanket. Spencer sighed in relief, snuggling into it and balling his fists in the soft, blue fabric.

“That help?” Aaron asked, and Spencer nodded sleepily, closing his eyes as he turned his face into Aaron’s stomach. 

“Uh huh. Thanks, Bubba.” __________

Alex

They’d been fighting about it for five entire minutes.

“Birdy, come on.”

“I’m fine, Aaron. Leave me alone.”

Aaron, not Bubba. I really must have done it this time.

“I won’t,” Aaron said, moving to try to stop her as she marched down the sidewalk. “You’ve been trying to dodge us all day, I barely caught you now, and I had to ask Penelope for your work schedule.”

“How did Penelope get my work schedule?”

Aaron gestured vaguely, moving again so he was in front of his pseudo-twin. “Penelope could find the president’s schedule if she wanted to.”

Alex rolled her eyes, not moving to push back the hair that was blocking some of her face from his view. She always pulled her hair away from her face, she’d said once that it was a sensory nightmare, but she didn’t have a headband or a clip pulling it back, and it wasn’t in a ponytail or a braid like she usually did.

“Are you mad at me? Is this about Spencer? Because if you’re mad at me, you shouldn’t be avoiding everyone, just tell me what I did.”

Alex huffed, pushing past him again. “I’m not mad at you, you’re reading into it.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, but then used his lank to his advantage, stepping in front of her again. He put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her in place, and bent a little to look her in the face.

“Birdy, please, come on. Spencer’s worried, he doesn’t know why you’re avoiding him.” When he said it he knew it was a low blow, but he was starting to feel anxiety like bubbles popping in his chest. “I told him I’d make sure you were at dinner.”

Alex looked up at him after a second, some of her face still blocked by her hair,, and if looks could kill, he would have been six feet under.

“Let go of me, Aaron.”

“Alex–”

“I have homework to do. I’ve got too many things–”

Her words cut off as she shuddered under his hands, goosebumps erupting on her arms as she shivered in weather that was already too warm for him to be wearing his hoodie in the first place.

“Woah,” he said reflexively, “Are you… cold?”

She shook her head quickly and shivered again, before tucking her face away from him, and he didn’t even think as he reached out and gently grabbed her chin, turning her head so he could actually see her face.

When he did, everything clicked into place.

“Holy shit, Alex, you look awful.”

She frowned, and to his horror, her lower lip started trembling. “Stop, Aaron–”

“No way, Bird,” he said, the popping of anxiety in his chest going from slow moving bubbles to sparks like fireworks. “No wonder you’ve been a ghost today, you should be in bed, not running around trying to dodge us.”

“I’m fine,” she tried to say, but it was painfully obvious she wasn’t, and Aaron took a second to breathe before he was rubbing his hands up and down her arms, trying to help somehow. He was good at taking care of Spencer, but Spencer was ten.

Plus, Alex was usually the one taking care of him, and Spencer, so how was he supposed to do anything to help her?

“We should… find James. I’ll text James. He can meet us back at my room, and he’ll know what to do.”

She started to protest, but as she shivered harshly again, all of the fight seemed to go out of her. Her eyes started to fill with tears, and she nodded slowly. 

“Okay.”

He thought for a second before unzipping his hoodie, and he helped her thread her arms through the sleeves before zipping it for her. It hung like a dress down to the middle of her thighs, but she didn’t seem to notice, or felt too awful to care.

After a moment she leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his torso and burying her face in the fabric of his shirt. 

“Thanks, Bubba.”

“Of course,” he said automatically. “Of course, Birdy.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” __________

Haley

“You don’t have to do this, Ari. It’s sweet, but you’re gonna–”

“Hay, James said you probably should be with someone to watch your fever. It’s fine, I don’t care about getting sick. I care about you.”

Haley sat next to him on the bench outside of Roosevelt house, her head laying against his arm as he tried to coax her into following him back to Lincoln house. He’d thought she was acting weird at dinner, and by the time she’d finally admitted to him that she wasn’t feeling all that great, Alex and James had taken Spencer back with them and the others, granting them enough privacy for him to convince her to let him help.

She’d fought going to the nurse harder than he thought she would, but he’d been able to convince her to on the thermometer in his backpack, normally reserved for Spencer. After that he’d called James, and she’d already gone inside and grabbed a tote bag with the things she thought she might need.

When she’d gone in she’d been wearing his hoodie, which he’d given her even after she’d protested that she was going to get germs on it, and he’d fully scoffed. Odds were he was going to get sick anyway. When she’d come out with her bag and was still wearing it, he’d told the bees in his stomach to knock it the fuck off.

“Harper just…” she turned and muffled a cough into her elbow, but he finished the thought for her. “Is the worst?”

She laughed and shook her head, clearing her throat before speaking again.

“She just gets really freaked out about getting sick and missing class, and missing cheer. It’s like, she would rather die.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” Aaron said simply, rubbing Haley’s back. She’d started shivering again, and it was making him anxious. “People get sick all the time. Spencer and I get sick all the time. You’ve got like, a cold virus or something, and it’ll go away.”

Haley turned and raised a weak eyebrow at him. “A cold virus, or something?”

“I don’t want to be a doctor,” he said simply. “I want to be a lawyer.”

“A man with ambition,” she said, teasing him, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. She was more miserable than she was letting on. “I like that.”

“And I like you feeling well,” he said, standing up and offering her his hand. “Come on, Haley. It’s alright, I promise.”

She looked up at him, glassy eyed and fever flushed, and sniffled quietly before taking his hand and letting him help her up. He grabbed her bag, even though she protested, and couldn’t help but feel a swell of fondness at the fact that his hoodie dwarfed her, the sleeve pooling around their connected hands while the other completely covered her hand. He nodded towards it, giving her a shy smile.

“When JJ’s cardigans do that to Spencer’s hands, she calls it ‘Sweater Paws,’ like he’s a kitten.”

“Are you calling me a baby?” She said, but she laughed listlessly, so he knew she wasn’t serious.

“It’s cute,” he said, trying and failing to not blush like a moron.

“Well, maybe I should wear your jackets more often. Not just because I’m so cold.”

“You’re hot.”

“Wow. Forward.”

“I mean–!” He blushed darker, fumbling for the right words. “You know what I meant! You have a fever!”

“I know, I shouldn’t be giving you a hard time,” she said, leaning her head against his arm as they walked. “Thanks for letting me stay. I feel silly about it.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I already said it, I don’t care about getting sick. I care about you.” ___________

James

James was raising an eyebrow at him, though it looked misplaced on his pale yet darkly flushed face.

“Your hoodie won’t fit me.”

“Try me,” Aaron said, holding it out to him. “Or do I need to help you put it on?”

James grumbled, taking it from him. “This is silly.”

“You’re the one that tried to hide in a study room to finish homework instead of calling your dad and telling him to pick you up in the first place.”

“I didn’t know Penelope had tagged us.”

“Well,” Aaron said, “Yeah, the ethics on that are sketchy. But how else was Alex supposed to find you when you didn’t show up after classes let out? And then no one could find you for two hours until Penny finally ratted on herself!”

He hadn’t meant to get a little loud, and only noticed when James winced and rubbed at his temples, but James was usually their rock. The fact that he’d been the one to go MIA hadn’t sat right, and he’d been fighting off the anxiety ever since.

“I didn’t mean to worry everyone,” James said quietly. He’d pulled Aaron’s hoodie on, which had stopped the fever chills a little bit, and had fit, which Aaron had known it would. It was just baggy enough in the shoulders to fit James’ broader ones. “I wanted the opposite.”

“Well you got the not-opposite,” Aaron said, way too flustered to think of a good retort. Instead he stared at James longer than was appropriate, and was startled when someone honked their car horn.

“Shit,” he said at the same time that James said, “Stars,” like they were in a southern sitcom.

“Jeff, cut it out!”

Ned was walking up to them, concern etched onto his face, while Jeff, his best friend and bakery partner, was sitting in the driver’s seat of the van, sheepishly waving and mouthing “sorry.”

Aaron liked Ned. Ned was a good dad.

“Mini, why in the world would you have stayed here feeling bad when you know I would’a come to get you right quick had you called? Alex sounded worried out of her mind.”

“That’s just Alex,” James said, but Aaron watched him quickly wilt as he laid eyes on his dad. “It’s not that bad.”

“He’s got a fever over a hundred n’ one,” Aaron said, his accent strengthening the second he heard Ned talk. “He’s full’a crap.”

Ned nodded at Aaron, ruffling his hair before he grabbed James’ backpack off the ground. “Thanks, Bubba. Charlie’s anxious to get him back. Mama’s worried.”

He said it in James’ direction, but didn’t take his eyes off Aaron, and it made him feel warm inside.

James got up to walk with him back to the car, mumbling a thanks to Aaron, but was half way there when he turned around.

“Oh, Aaron, this is your hoodie.” He started moving sluggishly to take it off, but Aaron shook his head. 

“It’s fine. I’m not worried about it.”

“Didn’t your brother pick it for you, though? It’s important.”

Aaron nodded, taking a beat before shrugging. “It is. A, um. A different brother needs it right now.”

He watched as James’ face went from confused to thoughtful, a small and sheepish smile crossing his face before he nodded, turned, and followed Ned to the car.

[whumpberry-cookie]

Platonic love between Caretaker and Whumpee:

Cuddling/sleeping next to eachother in very natural, not romantic way. Lying on the bed, watching the ceiling and having a deep talk about their dreams for the future. Or even little funny fights in their sleep like pulling the blanket. "Ey, take that foot out of my face, stinky!" "Oh? But it's where it's supposed to be. Don't like that?" "I'M TELLING ON YOU TO LEADER!!"

Seeing the other in "borrowed" clothes and not even saying a word about it, because they switch clothes so often. (Giving the other a jumper cause they're cold/wet)

Knowing eachother's facial expressions so well they can tell the other is upset/overwhealmed when no one else notices it. "Whumpee, what were you trying to say? I didn't catch that in the conversation" / "What about changing the topic now?"

Both of them being sincerely surprised if someone asks them if they're together. "With Caretaker? Ah, haha, no! They're a big brother! Why? Do YOU wanna hit on them? You'll need to go through my vibe check first. Pray you pass it."

Communication skills worked out, because they know eachother for so longg!! "Are you mad at me...?" "...I'm- really hecking frustrated, partly because I'm hungry and tired. I need some space now and we'll figure it out later, okay?"

Not pushing the other to confess their traumas from the past. Your secrets are yours to decide if you want to share them and when. I don't need to know everything. (W:) "...you don't seem surprised by what I said" (C:) "Yeah... I kinda figured it long ago. I just didn't want to bring it up until you're ready"

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