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@choked-over
hellLlo Hii ;..,.. about me, iI’m Tim(othy) / Belt, gay ftm dude. .. . My asks are open, say whatever you wiishh
mMy brain was wiiped and my creations are the product of that -— expect mostly daark themes !!! !!
Content iinformation + more under thhe cut
Got way too drunk the other night while competitively drinking with my heavyweight bf, I’m a lightweight.
I got nauseous, so I lied on the bed with a bag under my face. And, with my luck, I completely blacked out.
Face down against the bed, pressed against the white plastic of the lavender scented garbage bag. (I assume) unable to breathe in the way I needed to.
I cant remember anything besides a few physical sensations of him pulling me by the [neck? Hair? Collar?] up out the bag and rolling me onto the bed so I could sleep. He told me about it when I woke up the next day.
Trouble Swallowing
(Words: 5,020 // Content : toxic romantic relationship, mlm, medications [antipsychotics], dysphagia, gaslighting/manipulation, choking on food, back blows, partial/full obstruction, heimlich maneuver, broken ribs due to improper technique, minimal comfort)
--
The young couple sat apart on their couch, both leaning on the armrests. Mindless videos played on the TV.
Eddie was drinking an energy drink to prepare for his night shift, and Clayton had taken his medication about an hour prior.
Clayton was feeling tired, but Eddie enjoyed spending the time with him before he had to go in.
Clayton was barely paying attention to the screen in front of them, as his antipsychotics continued to slow his internal processes down.
Eddie had grown used to watching Clayton’s mental decline after he dosed himself. He was familiar with the stages. First, his wrists began to twitch. Then, his expression flattened just like his tone.
Something else Eddie picked up on was that Clayton sometimes drooled. Not all the time, but after he took his pills, he’d notice it more. Wiping the corners of his lips, eyes darting around to make sure Eddie didn’t see it.
Eddie saw it. He knew Clayton did a lot of things that he didn’t think were noticed. He wished he’d just tell him instead of trying to hide it and pretend it wasn’t happening— it wasn’t working in Clayton’s favor.
Eddie reached to grip onto Clay’s thigh, squeezing. Hearing a shaky sigh, he glanced over to his boyfriend.
Clayton’s eyes were half closed, breath heavy as he tried not to fall asleep. He felt the touch, but barely registered it as more than an accidental tap.
Eddie saw glistening on his lower lip, and felt like now was a good time to bring up what he’d been thinking about.
“You’re drooling.” Eddie informed Clayton, as if it were a purposeful action.
“Wh- huh? Am I-?” Clayton half snapped out of his haze, raising a hand to wipe his mouth. His cheeks heated up as he failed to find the lie.
“Yeah, Clay.” Eddie answered what he already knew, the expression not offering any kind of reassurance or warmth. “Are you good?”
“Uh- yeah, I’m alright,” Clayton attempted to exit the conversation, but Eddie was just beginning. “Sorry,” he apologized.
“Do your pills make you drool?” Eddie asked, not paying mind to Clayton’s previous discomfort.
Clayton thought for a moment. “Uh’huh, usually happens’on these meds,”
“Sounds like an annoying side effect. You’ve been on this one for… a month now, right?”
“Yeah. It's just like one I had as a teen,” He answered. “They made me drool- I’d pass out not too long after takin’ em’,” He held his hand up and pinched. “Huge pills, too.”
“Ugh. Those make me choke. You couldn’t use a pill cutter?” Eddie asked him, fingers interlacing. Whatever was playing on the TV was far from his interest now.
“Nope. My dose was too big, I wasn't allowed half pills. An’ speaking of that,” Clayton rolled his shoulders. “When I was in the ward, they had me up on some crazy shit, I’ve told you about that stuff.”
“Right,” Eddie nodded his head, pressing his lips together. He was intrigued with the topic.
“Another side effect I had was this shit called dysphagia. Made it hard to swallow anything after I’d had my dose. The techs had to uh- give me the heimlich one time.” Clayton paused.
“What happened?” Eddie asked quickly, leaning on one fist. His interest peaked, but there was something deeper pulling him to question his experiences.
“We were allowed snacks after night meds, and it was right when it would hit hardest- I think it was the second night when I noticed it. I’d try to swallow but it wouldn’t work, and if the bite was big enough, it would get stuck.” Clayton rubbed his neck, frowning at the memory. “I was able to handle it and usually either- like- gag it back up or fight it down,”
Eddie nodded. His curiosity piqued as he listened in, not trying to make his interest obvious. “Wow, dude, you’ve never told me about this.” He said, taking a sip of his monster.
“Yeah- I dunno, it’s just one of those things… It’s gotten a lot better since I was a teen but- It still fuckin’ sucks.” Clayton sighed, turning his head as Eddie began to move. “Just really wish the pros outweighed the cons with these pills,”
“You said they had to save you once, right?” Eddie asked, getting up from the couch. “Do tell, Clay,” His volume increased as he walked away, disappearing into the kitchen.
“Well- it was the same as any other time, except I couldn’t cough it up. String cheese is what did it. We were watching ‘She’s the Man’-“ Clayton began.
“That’s a deep cut,” Eddie laughed, opening a cabinet and pulling something out.
“Their DVD binder was ancient, that’s for sure- anyways, I was laying back, taking my time, but it got stuck,” Clayton droned, his eyes unfocusing.
“It wasn’t coming out when I coughed, though. Someone noticed what was happening. They yanked me up, did the heimlich,”
Clayton trailed off, face shifting into loss. “Then I guess I was fine,”
Eddie came out of the kitchen, holding onto a box of crackers. “Do you not remember?” Eddie asked, going back to the couch to sit down.
“Not really. The only thing I really remember is the feeling of not being able to swallow-“ Clayton’s eyes refocused. “But that’s just because it’s happening now.”
“The brain is a weird, weird thing,” Eddie opened the cardboard, obtaining a cracker and taking a bite.
“But you haven’t actually choked since starting these meds again, right?” He asked, tone darkening. He took another sip of his energy drink.
Clayton took a breath before responding. “No, I haven’t, but I know it could happen.” He shifted, turning his attention back to the garbage playing on their TV.
“Hm,” Eddie set his can down on the coffee table. “How do you know?” He asked, leaning back on the couch.
Clayton was caught slightly off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Eddie repositioned himself, crossing his legs and setting the box on his thigh. “What if it’s just the anxiety that’s making it hard to swallow?”
Clayton paused, staring at Eddie with confusion. “I don’t think-... no, it can’t be just anxiety, it only happens when I take those meds.”
“Anxiety can do that, you know- it makes sense too. You had a bad experience last time you took these pills- your brain is probably just trying to protect you when it doesn’t need to.” Eddie spoke as if he was completely correct, causing Clayton to feel unsure.
“I don’t really know, Ed. It’s a really specific feeling that happens like- right here,” Clayton pointed to above his Adam’s Apple.
“Yeah, right- I know, it’s the exact place you feel a lump when you’re nervous, right?” Eddie tilted his head, pulling out another few crackers.
“Well- yeah, it’s the same area-“ Clayton started, but was cut off.
“It’s the same thing, Clay. I think you’re psyching yourself out more than you need to,” Eddie cocked his eyebrows, examining the look on Clayton’s face.
Clayton wasn’t sure how to feel, or to respond. He didn’t really believe Eddie, and he didn’t want to throw his caution to the wind because it might be anxiety.
His silence didn’t push Eddie to stop prodding. He wanted to see if Clayton was being just dramatic about it, or if he really had a reason to be afraid.
“Try some crackers.” Eddie held the food out in the direction of Clayton, who stared at it like it was poison.
“That’s like- one of the worst ones to try-“ Clayton didn’t reach to take them, he just stared with his eyebrows furrowed.
“What, crackers? C’mon, man. You can drink a smoothie but can’t have a saltine?” Eddie belittled, laughing.
“They’re two totally different consistencies, dude.” Clayton remained still, unsure if the laughing was directed at him.
“You’re acting like an old man. It’s not that serious, you just need to try.” Eddie pushed the crackers into Clayton’s hand, forcing him to take it.
“You know what, Ed, I really don’t want to do this.” Clayton expressed his genuine discomfort, but it wasn’t met with the same concern.
“Why’re you making a big deal? It’s two crackers. You’re acting like you’re gonna die.” Eddie scoffed, taking some more crackers out of the box for himself. “It’s easy, just look.” He bit into a chip, and chewed.
“I don’t want to risk it,” Clayton continued, frowning.
Eddie swallowed his food, and took an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my god! I’m alive.”
“You’re not taking me seriously, dude.” Clayton disliked the pressure he was feeling. He didn’t think it was a big deal either, but it shouldn’t be such a problem to express a boundary.
“Listen, Clay. If anything happens, I’ll be right here.” Eddie’s tone shifted into a comforting one, which made Clayton’s head feel even worse. “But nothing is gonna happen. It’s been… how many years since the last time?”
Clayton hesitated before answering, feeling his brief certainty ebb away with Eddie’s words. “Almost ten years.”
Eddie laughed again. “Ten years, man. That’s a long time to be afraid.”
Clayton furrowed his brows, but kept quiet. He didn’t feel like going back and forth with Eddie over something as stupid as crackers.
The TV droned on in the background, Clayton glanced at the crackers in his hand. His appetite made them resemble cardboard more than something edible.
If Clayton’s brain were anything more than mush right now, he would’ve fought more for his ground. Every word he spoke felt like trying to shovel tar.
Eddie wasn’t interested in the silence. He prodded, despite Clayton’s clear hesitance. “Are you trying to make them disappear with your mind?”
Clayton groaned. “Jesus Christ, Ed! Give me a fuckin’ second to think, why are you being like this?” The most energy Clayton had given all hour just came out, and he knew it didn’t have the desired effect.
“It’s been a minute since you’ve moved, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t die overthinking about it.” Eddie knew that what he was saying would push Clayton. That was his goal.
“God. You’re so… whatever. Whatever, man.” Clayton sighed, lifting the crackers up to his face. He didn’t want to hear anything more about what Eddie thought he knew.
Dread creeped up Clayton’s spine as he popped a cracker into his mouth. He began to chew slowly, before sliding the second one in after.
Eddie stared at him, savoring the first moments like he just won a debate. “Not that bad, huh?”
Clayton glared at Eddie from the side. “Tastes like paper.” He said through his bite, trying to focus on his chewing.
He felt uncomfortable from Eddie’s unbreaking stare, it wasn’t helping his self consciousness. He tried to focus regardless.
The time Clayton was taking made Eddie impatient. He had exceeded the standard 20 chews by at least double that amount already. “Any slower and you’ll digest it.”
The comment bothered Clayton more than it should’ve. His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing at Eddie’s pressure.
The tension made it hard for Clay to focus on what he needed to, and he wanted more to snap at Eddie than to be careful. Readying a response, Clayton swallowed his bite.
He tried to, anyway.
His tongue swept the food to the back of his throat, but the reflex that brought food down failed to work. Within a second of attempting, Clayton realized that the food hadn’t gone down. He could still breathe, but he couldn’t speak.
Clayton was suddenly entirely focused on the danger stuck in his gullet. His throat bobbed as he attempted to swallow again, but nothing happened.
Eddie noticed the look on Clayton’s face. He tilted his head, noting how deep and deliberate each breath he took was. “What’s that face for?”
Clayton couldn’t respond even if he wanted to. He could feel his eyebrow twitch, trying to swallow repeatedly. It felt like his muscles had turned off.
Clayton’s hand raised to his neck, touching the skin right over his Adams apple. He still hadn’t looked at Eddie since this happened.
“Uh oh, are you alright?” Eddie’s tone wasn’t entirely serious, but he noticed the vibe shift. It wasn't one he could play off as humorous.
Clayton held a finger up at Eddie, attempting once more to fight the food down. The motion caused the obstruction to shift, tickling his gag reflex. It triggered a sudden coughing fit.
“Oh- shoot,” Eddie didn’t anticipate that sudden reaction. He reached out to pat his back a few times, eyebrows lowering in concern. “C’mon, dude. Cough it up,”
Clayton didn’t like the touch, but he couldn’t verbally protest. As his lungs depleted, he sucked in another replenishing breath- but the worst occurred.
“Sclk-“ The force of the gasp caused the food to shoot to the opening of his trachea. Clayton’s heart sank to his stomach.
“You good, man?” Eddie asked, too little too late. He was starting to have a hard time blaming drama for the others reaction.
Clayton barely noticed the words spoken to him, his full focus was on the complete block in his throat. His mouth gaped, nothing but a sickly wheeze rewarded him.
Calling this "just anxiety” was insulting. If he could manage a breath, he’d waste it all on a panic attack. Nothing about the prior argument mattered anymore, Clayton just wished that he would’ve stood his ground.
“Are you choking?” Eddie asked, his voice noticeably smaller. He remained in his seat, the air around him tense.
Clayton nodded firmly, feeling his face redden from the pressure. His hand clutched his throat, knuckles white.
Eddie felt it was necessary to confirm again. “Are you being serious?”
Clayton couldn’t keep himself still, he felt like he was alone. He stumbled out of his position, using the table to help him up to his feet. His head pounded with adrenaline, making him briefly forget his lethargy.
Eddie got up right after him. “Hang on- hold still, let me help you!” He shouted, grabbing at Clayton’s arm.
‘I can’t breathe, I can’t-‘
Clayton felt like his head was going to explode. He was doubled over, retching uselessly. He took some unconscious steps away, wavering unsteadily from the shock.
“Dude! Get over here-!” Eddie wasn’t going to wait for Clayton to listen, it was clear he was focused on other things. Eddie moved around the coffee table, finally able to get a hold on Clayton’s sweater.
Eddie pulled the other right into his arms, scrambling to keep him steady. He caught a glance of his pale face, feeling the weight of reality
‘He never fuckin’ listens to me,’ Clayton’s mind ran. He felt separated from his body, almost enough to ignore the feeling of arms wrapped around his lower ribcage.
“I was just messin’ with you, Clay!” Eddie spoke up, his voice exasperated. Clayton was pressed against his front, he could feel every oxygen starved twitch deeper than he should’ve.
Tightening his fist just a bit too high above Clayton’s navel, Eddie aggressively thrusted back and up into Clay’s diaphragm. He felt a sickening snap.
“GRK-!” A strangled expression of pain escaped Clayton’s throat. He felt an agonizing twinge at the bottom of his ribs, further irritated by the continued hold.
“Fuck- I’m sorry!” Eddie’s heart dropped, quickly realizing what he’d done. In a swift movement, he readjusted to where he was supposed to be.
Pulling back gently to ensure he wasn’t going to further break his bones, Eddie noted the tension Clayton had in his body. His abdomen wasn’t soft, it was strained as his body fought for consciousness and air.
Clayton’s diaphragm convulsed, the pain dissolving and mixing with the desperation. His purple lips sparkled with numbness- he was sure this was it.
‘I’m going to suffocate,’ Clayton thought, his eyes were starting to roll. He couldn’t feel the tears sliding down his face. The pain emanating from his ribcage felt like fire, and he couldn’t do a thing about it.
Eddie savored enough of what he could, tasting every second of his boyfriend's struggle. He broke himself out of his trance, and thrusted into Clayton again. He didn’t feel any broken bones this time.
Their bodies pressed together briefly, Clayton’s ass pushing against Eddie’s groin. It made his stomach flutter. Even in the motion, he could feel the other’s inability to keep still.
‘He’s movin’ so much,’ Eddie was having a hard time keeping his mind out of the gutter. The friction masked the warmth rushing to his crotch, he didn’t notice the growing erection in his pants.
Eddie thrusted again, again, and again. He leaned forwards briefly, stopping to check Clayton’s face.
The skin around his eyes and mouth were blue. Eddie felt a lot more frantic suddenly.
“Fuck- I didn’t think you’d actually choke!” The words slipped out of him, not really thinking anymore. He resumed his original position, fists curling into Clayton’s softening abdomen.
Despite Clayton’s slipping consciousness, he heard what Eddie had to say. If he had any more energy to spend, he’d punch the shit out of him.
He could barely see through the tears collecting in his eyes, he was certain that these were his last moments awake on earth.
As Eddie thrusted, Clay felt a shift in his throat. “Huk-” The noise was forced out of him, he had no control of his vocal chords.
Clayton was able to suck in air as if he were breathing through a coffee stirrer. It wasn’t what he needed, but it made things clearer for the moment.
His mind quieted down enough to notice something he was feeling, not in his own body but right behind him. Another heimlich thrust forced him up off his feet, squeezing another choked sound from him. “Ghn..”
As the pressure let off, Clay realized what he was feeling on the back of his pants. ‘Is… is he hard right now?’
Eddie reacted positively to the sounds. “Yes- there you go! Can you breathe?” He sounded ecstatic, although it was a little too early to celebrate. He paused the heimlich, wanting to make sure he wasn’t unnecessarily harming the other.
Clayton shook his head sharply, focusing on sucking as much air in as he could. The oxygen deprivation made it difficult for him to think straight. “Nn... Noo-“
“That’s okay- you’re fine, can you cough?” Eddie kept his hold on Clayton, not putting any pressure on his irritated ribs, but not letting him go.
‘Help, please help,’ Clayton shook his head again, warmth rushing to it as he wheezed. He wanted Eddie to continue thrusting, he didn’t know that he had stopped for his own safety.
“Just try to cough- you’re doing great, Clay, just try to cough,” Eddie had shifted his mindset into taking care of this issue, and planned to deal with what occurred before when the danger was away.
Clayton was still feeling distressed, but he couldn’t protest what Eddie was doing. Mustering up some drive, he attempted to clear his throat with a cough.
It was dry and painful, and it didn’t sound like it was helpful. Eddie could hear the obstruction shift as he hacked. Clayton’s back tensed, he was running out of the air he’d worked so hard to get back.
“Good job, Clay. You’re okay, you’re passing air,” Eddie reassured him. He felt Clayton waver as he attempted to inhale, his ribcage shaking with the strain. “Keep it up,”
Eddie heard the stridor of Clayton’s windpipe, cringing at the noise. He strengthened his support, keeping the other as steady as possible. As he repositioned, he finally felt the familiar tightness in his jeans.
Blood rushed to his cheeks, his fluster peaking up even through this dire moment. For a moment, his mind went entirely blank. He was going to assess these feelings later, after danger was far away.
“Hhuh-… hel-,” Clayton’s need was dire, he didn’t understand why Eddie had stopped trying to assist in the way he was. Every movement made him shift against what he was trying to ignore, and the slight oxygen he received was making him overly antsy.
“Just focus on coughing, Clay,” Eddie said softly, holding him steady. “If I try to help you now, it might get worse,” He leaned forward a little bit, trying to get a better look at his face. It appeared that blood had made its way back to his head, his cheeks and the skin around was all red. His eyes were still huge, pleading for this to stop.
Clayton wanted nothing more than for Eddie to assist. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why he stopped, but he couldn’t ask. He heaved, forcefully coughing as hard as he could.
As seconds passed, Clayton hadn’t yet cleared his airway. Anxiety prickled in Eddie’s head, the seconds that passed stretching into apparent hours. Even though he was breathing, it wasn’t enough.
Clayton wavered in Eddie’s grasp, fighting the gravity that was pulling him down. His vision was spinning, every gasp that tore through his obstructed throat made the oxygen desperation more painful.
“Fuck…” Eddie grumbled, beginning to reposition himself back to where he just was. “You’re doing good, just…” He crossed his fingers over his left fist right over Clayton’s bruised stomach, before swiftly pulling back once more.
The air Clayton had been fighting for actually helped when Eddie gave him another abdominal thrust, forcing the obstruction loose from its wedge. A choked noise crawled from his throat. He doubled over and hacked, nearly knocking Eddie off balance from the speed.
What Clayton coughed up onto the floor seemed incredibly small compared to the fight for life he just experienced, but he wasn’t focusing on that right now. He lost the strength to keep himself up, his knees buckling.
“Holy fuck, Clay- hang on, I got you,” Eddie fastened his grip around Clayton after the issue was cleared, trying to help him avoid hitting the ground.
The movement sent shooting pains through Clayton’s ribcage. He couldn’t keep himself from whining in agony— the only thing that quieted him down was his oxygen deprivation. “Nngh… ow-“
Eddie loosened his hold on Clayton, still keeping his shaking form from falling. Guilt began to creep up his back.
“Are you alright..?” Eddie said softly, breaking the near silence. He was bearing most of Clayton’s weight,
Clayton was catching his breath as he was questioned, still regaining the feeling in his hands and legs “Put me down…” he wheezed.
Eddie didn’t think he heard him right. “What?” He asked, leaning in to get another look at Clayton’s expression.
“Put me-,” he rasped, grasping at Eddie’s wrists. “Put me down,”
“Alright, give me a second,” Eddie carefully walked back over to the couch they were sitting on just a few minutes prior, and slowly led Clayton back down onto it.
Eddie guided Clayton to sit on him once he was on the couch, but Clayton was moving as soon as he was let go of. He pulled himself off Eddie, managing to make his way back to his side. He was shaky, slow, and whimpering with every movement.
“Fuck… uhn- fuck-,” Clayton grasped at his abdomen. He was having a hard time concealing his pain, he had no time to process what just happened before something else started to worsen.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asked quietly, still shaking from the adrenaline. The TV was silent now, the video they were watching had ended during the commotion.
Clayton refused to make eye contact with Eddie. He kept trying to put pressure on the indescribable ache of his lower ribs, but every shift— every breath— made the pain hotter.
“It hurts,” Clayton’s voice was broken, shredded from the lifesaving efforts. He remained curled in on himself, knees bent loosely.
Eddie bit his lip. “You’re alright, babe, here- uh,” he reached out to touch Clayton’s shoulder in distant comfort. “Maybe we should go to the ER,”
Clayton didn’t respond. He stared off into the carpet, unable to ignore the stinging in his throat. A deep bruise was forming under his ribs.
The pressure that Eddie put on him right before everything went wrong fueled the near shutdown of Clayton’s mind after the immediate danger was away.
“Clayton?” Eddie cut the brief silence, noticing the apparent dissociation his boyfriend was experiencing. “Do you need help grounding?”
Clayton wasn’t feeling dissociative, he was angry. “I fuckin’ told you,” he started, taking an unsteady breath. “I told you I didn’t want to do that-“
Eddie felt the sudden need to defend himself from his recently traumatized boyfriend. “No way, dude- don’t make this my fault,”
“Eddie- I told you, and you just-“ more tears started to form in Clayton’s eyes, shedding over the internal pain he was feeling.
Eddie retracted his hand from Clayton’s shoulder. “You could’ve just- not eaten it, Clay,” his tone diminished the severity of what just happened. “You could’ve told me no,”
Clayton had to clear his throat to avoid coughing. He winced at the movement, pain from his damaged ribcage making every shift unbearable. He mumbled a curse to himself.
“I did-... You pushed me..!” He raised his voice, causing it to crack. “You told me it was in my head, it’s just anxiety!”
“I was just joking around with you,” Eddie’s brows furrowed, taking only a moment to notice his pained expression. He didn’t want to apologize. “You didn’t have to eat it if you really didn’t want to-“
“I wasn’t laughing,” Clayton quieted down significantly, unable to suppress the pain for this unnecessary argument. “It wasn’t funny at all,”
“I get that-“ Eddie fidget with his hands, appearing restless. “Listen, we should really go to the emergency room,” He didn’t enjoy watching Clayton sit with the physical pain.
“Fuck- why would make me do that, Eddie?” Clayton was quickly spiraling, shedding tears over the broken trust. He wanted Eddie to apologize and comfort him, not argue over a crossed boundary.
“I didn’t do anything,” Eddie began to get up from the couch. He stood in front of Clayton, holding his hand out to help him stand. “Come on, dude, let’s go,”
The dismissal hurt Clayton further, the emotion tearing a broken sob from him. “You broke my ribs,” for the first time, he made brief eye contact.
“I didn’t mean- FUCK!” Eddie’s own feelings exploded, he turned around and took some steps away. “I was trying to fucking save you, Clay! That’s why I’m trying to go to the ER!” He felt unable to contain his voice, feeling frustrated with the inability to brush this off.
Clayton continued to cry, feeling unable to argue back with Eddie. His head sank, blinking tears into his own lap. He felt incredibly alone at this moment.
The silence Eddie had to sit with caused the guilt to rise up again. It was hard to argue with someone who couldn’t give you anything good back.
He found it difficult to endure the sounds of crying. After a few painful seconds of watching him, Eddie spit out a sad apology. “I’m sorry that happened, I didn’t- I didn’t want to hurt you”
Clayton still needed time to feel what he was feeling before accepting anything. He took a shaky breath in, still sore from the prior abuse. He reached up and wiped his eyes.
“It’s hard to breathe,” He squeaked, keeping his gaze to himself. Every shift reminded him of what just happened, it was impossible to ignore.
Eddie blinked slowly, fighting the urge to reignite the argument. “Can we go to the ER, please?” His tone sounded edged with frustration, losing the patience he never had.
Clayton was clearly favoring silence over responsiveness. The medications he’d taken had once again become impossible to ignore, causing him slight dissociation. Eddie wasn’t understanding.
“Clay,” Eddie spoke up, walking back over to his area on the couch. He held his hand out. “Please, babe, we need to go in,”
A muffled grunt came from Clayton. “Don’t you have work?” He asked, beginning to loosen his posture.
“I’m calling out,” Eddie answered, waving his hand to try and get Clayton to look up at him. “I’ve gotta take care of you,”
Clayton laughed emptily, no smile accompanying the sound. Eddie’s words still hurt even when he was trying to help. With a flat expression, he reached out and grabbed onto him.
Eddie gripped, gently pulling him up to his feet. He didn’t let go once he was up, placing his hands on Clayton’s sides to help him stay up. “Do you need to get anything before we go?” He asked, glancing up to the front door.
Clayton found talking to be nearly unbearable as he stood. He clenched his teeth together, breath shaking as he steadied himself. “Nn… no,” thinking about walking made him nauseous.
“Alright, that's cool, let’s, uh-“ Eddie reached down to grab his energy drink. “Let’s get going,” he spoke like they were going to the grocery store. He began to walk, guiding the other with him.
Clayton didn’t register the words, he just moved when movement occurred. Each step sent fire through his ribcage. There wasn’t any kind of position he could stay in that kept the pain away.
The effects of his medication dulled his perceptions and expressions, but not the stress his body just went through. He needed someone to help him feel safe, not someone who made him feel bad for almost dying.
They both exited the home, Eddie locking the door behind them. Full dissociation had taken over Clayton’s mind, and he wasn’t in any mood to talk.
Eddie didn’t necessarily want to talk either, so the silence continued. His head replayed the incident that occurred, unable to place the frustration on a single party.
The sounds of footsteps on the concrete aided Clayton more than anything. The voices in his head weren’t comforting, Eddie was just a crutch.
Clayton almost wished he hadn’t been saved.
--
recent post w/ illustration of this story:
💬 0 🔁 1 ❤️ 4 · Maybe listen to your boyfriend next time and he won't almost die. Or don't, if it gets you off. Whatever floats your boat.
Maybe listen to your boyfriend next time and he won't almost die.
Or don't, if it gets you off. Whatever floats your boat.
illustration of a story i will be uploading momentarily....
digital doodle of these 2 fellas Julian (small) does not want to be small, in Zeke's (big) hand, about to leave the state to avoid the police catching on. and they were roommates... (who hate eachother. for now.)
mayB i'll draw julian tied up in some household items, since he's gotttttta quiet down.
I drew something, but I'm afraid even a deviant wouldn't forgive me for it, and I don't want to get my account banned a second time🥲
So, anyone interested, you can just message me in a pm. I want to show this to someone
Since tumblr has made finding your posts on my home page endlessly more difficult, checking through your account every month to find all the new pieces makes it feel like Christmas LOL
hey there i wasn't aware this community existed but god i'm so glad to have found it just now. i always had this fascination with the heimlich maneuver and thought that was the most embarrassing thing because like who is into that? turns out a lot of people are into that actually. im just saying this because 2 nights ago i choked on a piece of pizza crust and my partner held me in his lap and delivered the most perfect back blows that gave me butterflies and i had to tell someone hehehe
So glad you found this place too! I remember finding a piece of this corner of the internet around this time last year, and I spent literal hours browsing all the art and stories involving the biggest and most embarrassing kink of mine. It’s almost overwhelming to find you’re not alone after carrying that piece of you around for ever up u til this point.
If you are ever less afraid of talking in a less Anonymous way, please feel free to DM! I’d love to hear what happened the other night in more detail.
Makes me think of something that happened to me around my BF last year, he had to do the same thing to me because of some chocolate (</3)
Thanks for reaching out and sharing your thoughts on this community!
1 and 7 for the ask game :)
1: What is your earliest memory of engaging with heimlich fantasy?
When I was a little kid, I was enamored with any media involving being eaten alive *, mouths, drowning, or choking on food *. A scene that comes to mind with this question comes from one of the many “The Land Before Time” movies. There were these two dinosaurs, very expressive and comedic as it was the plot of this movie. There’s a scene where one of them eats too many leaves and receives the heimlich. As a child, I would replay this scene over and over on my dvd player.
I would also make my stuffed animals enact scenes from shows I’d watched, which I think dialed in the interest from a very young age.
7: What is an underrated aspect of this niche of the community?
How so many members use their kink to fuel their motivations. Since I’ve been more involved with this community through posting, supporting other creators, talking through our discord server (Join if you like to chat with likeminded people!), and creating stuff for myself, I’ve found how different everyone involved in this kink is.
I love all the people teaching themselves about medical education, learning things they wouldn’t if it weren’t for this drive.
I’ve loved to find how many different paths everyone is taking while still finding time to enjoy this great thing. Not sure if this was the intended answer for this question, but, it stands.
The people that build this community is my favorite aspect of it!
Ehhhhwhatever
Clayton and an old friend
“At the pool at school,
he sunk and held his breath in,”
Character is Clayton , my mentally ill identical twin
For the choking ask game: 5, 7, 8, 11
5. What is your ultimate heimlich fantasy?
Maybe I shouldn't have gone so in depth with the last ask but I suppose I have a more specific one -
I'd love to be found half-conscious after attempting to remove an obstruction on my own. Leaning on the cabinet while on the floor, white in the face and barely able to gulp in enough air to keep me awake. A chair is on the ground from a failed self heimlich, and I barely even realize you're standing in front of me before you hoist me up.
You're not looking to immediately fix the problem, something about the helplessness and the inability to save myself makes you shake with anticipation. You pull up into my quivering abdomen, not nearly hard enough to clear the way.
A hiccup makes its way from my throat, knees bent but feet loose against the ground. You pull up again, rewarding me with a teaspoon sized gasp.
You play with me until my head lolls and it's clear I'm not conscious anymore. I'm placed onto the ground, and you sit on my stomach and look down to my slack face. You place a hand around my throat, squeezing slightly- you can feel the lump above my Adams apple.
Without removing your hand on my neck, your free fingers curl between my teeth and slide down the back of my tongue. You touch the slick object- it feels like hard candy. You snicker under your breath, further pressing on my windpipe. The candy slips out of the spot it'd been stuck in, almost insultingly easy after my lone struggle.
The moment it frees itself, my unconscious diaphragm strains for the air I've been fighting for. I wheeze through your grip, and you feel even more empowered from continuing to heed my breath.
Slight consciousness comes back to me, and my hands raise to your continued grasp on my throat. I squeeze your wrist, pulling you as I slowly realize where the pressure has shifted to.
This continues for as long as you'd wish, maybe you get tired of physically keeping me from breathing and push the candy back down my gullet.
8. What is your go-to item for the victim to choke on?
I'm a simple man and typically go for food, but I do love the opportunity for a character to choke on something they're not supposed to be chewing on. Maybe something they've been told to spit out before because of the danger of accidently swallowing it. The embarrassment of that happening around the same person who told you not to do that is ooooh so fun.
11. What is something you wish would be included more in heimlich works?
If you haven't already picked this up as a preference as my own,,, I'm a sucker for mouth sweeps. I love conscious mouth sweeps even more. A panicked rescuer trying whatever they can think of to help you, unsure of what to do. They pound you between your shoulder blades, asking you frantically "What do I do? Fuck- come on! Just cough it out!"
You're running on near empty, and they force your mouth open to jam their fingers down your throat in a hasty attempt to clear your airway. It doesn't work- In fact, it makes the problem even worse. You pull away as you feel the discomfort increase, but your rescuer doesn't understand that they're not helping at all.
9 for the choking ask game :p
Public or private rescue?
I think I prefer a private setting overall for maximum attention on what I find most hot. Sitting alone with someone close as you realize that the last bite of dinner you tried to swallow isn’t going down so easy. Trying to fight it down without your partner realizing, until your body makes it clear there’s something wrong. They hear your faulty swallowing, maybe you attempt to cough and it’s obvious you can hardly pass any air.
“Are you choking?” They ask, wanting nothing more than your answer to be no. Your mouth gapes, sucking in a mere whistle of air as an attempt to answer.
Your partner shifts behind you. They ask you the same question again, knowing what the answer was by now- you nod your head so hard you nearly give yourself whiplash. Your hands clutching around your own throwt as your partner moves you, slapping you between the shoulder blades. The force causes your whole body to jolt, and pressure to increase behind the blockage in your trachea, but nothing changes.
“Come on, cough it up!-“ your partners tone is stricken with fear, matching your internal feelings. If only you would speak too…
A few frantic pounds and your head becomes heavier, but your partner isn’t done trying to save your life. You feel two fists wind around your soft abdomen, meeting right above your navel. They firmly tug to ensure they’re in the right place, before taking a deep breath. They know that you’re probably going to feel this for weeks, but anything is worth your continued survival.
“I’m sorry,” they whisper into your ear, before pulling their fists back up into your body. You can feel pressure increase even more at the movement, but there’s no release yet. They pull again. And again. Saliva drips from your lower lip, which is now tinted blue.
“Fuck- please, babe!” They cry, the realization that what they’re doing may not work hitting harder with every failed thrust. They pull up again, and hear a choking noise escape the barricade in your throat.
It would be even more fun if it goes to the point of unconsciousness, where they have to sweep your mouth and further bruise your body.
Choking-specific ask game because the community has had an uptick of heimlich enjoyers which I LOVE TO SEE!
Send a number through asks and I'll answer! Feel free to reblog to get questions of your own.
What is your earliest memory of engaging with heimlich fantasy?
Do you think anything sparked your interest in it?
Conscious or unconscious rescue?
Self-heimlich or partner assistance?
What is your ultimate heimlich fantasy?
Thoughts on resus being needed afterwards?
What is an underrated aspect of this niche of the community?
What is your go-to item for the victim to choke on?
Public or private rescue?
How do you feel about multiple rescuers?
What is something you wish would be included more in heimlich works?
What is your favorite pairing for these scenarios? (Fandom or your own characters)
Favorite location for rescue?
Favorite rescuer/victim dynamic?
Free space! Tell me anything you want about you and your connection to heimlich stuff :)
Saw this back when I was first browsing this community and …. If anyone is curious with any questions…. Please feel free to ask!
Came up with 2 new guys just to cope with IRL transphobia and… it is a G/T duo…. In a non fantasy setting (besides a shrink ray gun)
I’ll share more information once I have some more written and doodles doodled. Very excited for the possibility of tiny whump / Resus , and forcing Julian (the transphobe) into becoming a better person through unhealthy ways <3 creative freedom is so fun
Not Resus related however
Shoutout to all the trans dudes who can’t wear binders anymore because of chest/rib damage
He was warned to throw away his gum before gym class, but he didn't listen.
Got Your Back
Trans guy Skyler chokes just a few days after getting a hysto. His partner tries to help without using abdominal thrusts.
[M victim. F rescuer. Choking. Partial airway obstruction. Back blows.]
Skyler shuffled into the kitchen and eased himself into a chair at the table, looking over the row of medication bottles like a general inspecting his troops. There were twice as many as usual on account of him being 48 hours post-op from a long-awaited hysterectomy. Aside from his usual psych meds (necessary evil), he had antibiotics to ward off infection (so far so good), anti-inflammatories for pain control (so far so meh), and a non-prescription stool softener that he’d picked up after several other trans guys had recommended it (the unsung hero of abdominal surgery recovery, holy fucking shit).
“Mornin’ sleepyhead,” his partner, Grace, called from the sink. She had taken time off work to help him during the first week of recovery. “Here,” she said, setting down a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. “For the ones that need food.”
“Thank you,” he hummed, voice still thick and gravelly from sleep. “’Preciate you.”
“I’m glad I could help!” she chirped. “It’s kinda nice actually. Reminds me of when I used to take care of my grandpa.”
Skyler snorted, which was as close to a laugh as he dared to get right now. “I’m better looking though, right?”
“You did not just ask me to think about how hot my grandpa was.”
Skyler dug into his oatmeal as their goofy couple banter continued. When he wasn’t paying attention, half a mouthful slithered down his throat the wrong way. He broke off mid-sentence, sputtering. After the surgery, every cough, hiccup, and too-deep inhale made his still-healing muscles spark with pain. Skyler tensed, fighting his body's natural urge for a deep forceful cough. He smacked an open palm against his chest, trying to work the obstruction out of his throat. All that came out was a pathetic, gargling wheeze.
The harder he coughed, the more it would hurt, but those shallow huffs of air weren't cutting it and the human body really had no chill about saving itself. Skyler resigned himself to that fact as he braced both hands against his tender abdomen and attempted a proper inhale. The ragged breath hitched, dissolving into a series of hacking, shuddering coughs. He pressed into his abdomen and tried his best to ride it out.
Grace winced sympathetically. “Aw, sorry babe. That looks like it really hurts right now.”
A searing pain lanced through his shoulder as Skyler continued to cough. The nurses at the hospital had warned him about this potential side effect of surgery. Apparently the human body had a nerve running to the shoulder that could get compressed by abdominal swelling, causing a ‘slight twinge’ of pain. Fuck that. Skyler felt like he was getting stabbed.
Grace shifted nervously in her chair. It was obvious from the look on her partner’s face that he was in a lot of pain, but she was also concerned about how much difficulty he seemed to be having clearing his airway. She rounded the table and began patting firmly between his shoulder blades.
“Sky, are you okay? I don’t wanna have to heimlich you this soon after surgery.”
God no, just let me choke, Skyler thought miserably.
He was standing now, gripping the edge of the table as he jolted forward with each thudding blow. Every rattling cough sent a fresh wave of pain rippling through his abdomen. At the same time, the lack of oxygen was giving him a weird though not entirely unpleasant buzz.
Grace landed another sharp, heavy blow between Skyler’s shoulders, panic rising in her voice as she ordered him to cough. “Is this – are you for real right now? Cough it up, Sky. Come on, you got this.”
One particularly harsh cough launched the sticky mass out of his throat, where it splattered on the table. Skyler took a deep breath and let it out with a groan. Grace’s hand stilled on his back. Gradually, the irritation in his throat subsided.
“You scared me, jerk,” she said without any real animosity.
“It’s so over for me,” Skyler lamented. “A bowl of instant oats was almost my downfall.”
Grace leaned against her partner’s back and mumbled “I love you” into his shoulder.
“What was that?”
“I said my grandpa was hotter than you. No contest.”
