Apr 1, 2025
Bleh
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Bleh
I was trying to do a photo dump on insta and I threw up my dinner…and I really feel like that was my conscious and subconscious teaming up to tell me how they really feel about social media. 💀
This Conspiracy
PART I — THE TRIO
Chapter 6
In Which Their Lives In The Glade Truly Begin
Archie regretted every drink he’d had the night before the moment he woke up – which was unreasonably early, as the sun wasn’t even peeking over the Walls quite yet. His stomach churned, and he lurched out of his hammock, rushing to the treeline to empty it. He heaved grotesquely onto a bush.
Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he straightened up and started back to his hammock. He stopped upon seeing Nick, Flossy, and Graham. Nick’s shoulders jerked up and down as he held in his laughter. Flossy tried to hide her amusement behind a cough. And Graham… Graham looked just as amused as he always did – which is to say, not at all. He looked as moveable as any of the Maze walls. Besides the doors, of course.
“Feel better?” Nick said quietly, grinning at him.
“I feel worse,” he said, rubbing his throat.
“Come on then. Clint might have something for your headache. You’re just going to have to drink lots of water today is all. I have a feeling a lot of these slintheads will share your pain when they wake up.”
They went to the Homestead and took a sharp left into what Archie could guess was for the Med-jacks. There were a few low-rising cots – all unoccupied, which wasn’t a bad sign – and some tables and cabinets. Nick drew a set of keys out of his pockets and flipped through them before finding the right one.
“Clint and I are the only ones with keys to this cabinet,” he said, “so don’t try breaking in or stealing anything.”
Nick opened up the cabinet to reveal a vast array of medical products, all organized by what they did and what they were. Nick plucked out a bottle and twisted off the cap with ease, handing Archie two white tablets.
There was a word on the bottles – the one, Archie realized, that had been on the containers that had come up with him and the others – that he couldn’t quite make out. Or his brain, rather, couldn’t seem to decipher. He shrugged it off as his head was thumping painfully against his skull.
He took the tablets dry, not waiting for the water – which Nick held out to him after he’d already swallowed the pills. The older boy looked mildly impressed. Still, Archie chugged the water. It sloshed coldly in his stomach.
“Right then,” Nick said, “this way.”
They headed outside to the North Wall. The Glade was still mostly asleep. Only a few people – the Runners, Frypan, and a handful of others – were awake.
“This is Glader tradition,” Nick said as they walked over. “We started doing it because we didn’t want to forget. We didn’t want to forget our names, and we didn’t want to forget everyone we lost.”
Nick stopped in front of the Wall, looking it up and down. There were names carved into the side, as if it was made of a soft stone rather than concrete. Some were scratched out but still legible. Some were large and some were small. Each one was as unique as the Glader who’d made their mark.
“You three are Gladers now,” Nick continued, his hand tracing over one that was scratched out. George, the name read. Archie wondered how long the name had been like that, and what had happened to him. The scratch looked relatively new. “You are a part of our team. Our friends, our brothers – and our sister. We will be loyal to you, and we expect the same in return.”
Nick drew out a knife and held it out to them.
“By adding your name to this wall, you are committing yourself to everyone here.”
“And if we don’t?” Graham said, crossing his arms and challenging Nick.
“You get dragged out into the Maze and tossed off the Cliff.”
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Okay! Another request? Dean gets really sick. Like very sick. He’s feverish and can’t keep anything down, and maybe even a bit delirious, but he keeps pushing Sam away because he obviously doesn’t want Sam to get sick, and he doesn’t like feeling vulnerable. But Dean is still really sick and ends up passing out of the bathroom floor and Sam quickly takes care of him and stuff? I think that would be cute haha
Okay this is set in like season 5 or something so they’re older but they haven’t found the bunker yet.
When Sam woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his brother’s bed was empty. Their minds were programmed like that, to check on eachother first before anything. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he looked around the room. Keys were on the table and Dean’s shoes were at the foot of his bed, so he was still here. Then Sam noticed that the light was on in the bathroom, door ajar.
Sam sighed, sliding his legs over the side of the bed, he knew what that meant. He stood up and trudged sleepily over to the bathroom, nudging the door open more to see his brother slumped in the corner of the bathroom, eyes closed, one arm draped protectively over his stomach.
“Dean?” he asked quietly, hoping he wouldn’t scare his brother.
“G’way Sammy, m’fine,” Dean mumbled, waving a hand dismissively.
“Shut up,” Sam grunted, entering the bathroom to crouch down beside Dean. He reached a hand out to feel his forehead, but was instantly batted away.
“Leav’me alone,” Dean whined.
“No. Now stop being a baby and let me help,” Sam said, moving his brothers hand out of the way to feel Dean’s forehead. Just as he’d suspected, Dean was burning.
Dean sighed, relaxing a little. He was too tired to fight his brother off anyway. Just wanted to sleep. But the churning in his stomach told him that his body had better plans.
“I’ll go see if we have any ibuprofen in the med kit and then we’ll get you back in bed, okay?” Sam asked.
“Mmm,” Dean shook his head, “gonna puke again soon,” he added.
“Oh. Right. That’s okay, um, we’ll just sit here then,” Sam felt very out of his element, this was Dean’s thing.
Sam sunk down onto the floor beside Dean, careful not to touch him, he knew that would get him a shove or an elbow in the ribs. As promised, a few minutes later Dean shakily maneuvered himself forwards to hunch over the toilet. Sam stayed quiet, for fear of pissing Dean off, but placed a careful hand on his back. When Dean didn’t comment, he started to rub gentle circles, the way Dean always did for him.
Dean breathed heavily over the bowl, mouth hanging open. The nausea was swirling in his belly, making his mouth feel weird and his face feel funny. He hadn’t felt this awful in years. Dean wanted to cry. But he wouldn’t, not in front of Sam.
Sam watched as Dean swallowed down a gag, his whole body convulsing as he fought himself. He sighed, “Don’t fight it dude.”
“M’okay Sam, go back to bed,” Dean muttered, pressing a fist to his lips. The arm that was holding him up on the lid was shaking.
“You’re not okay and I’m not leaving,” Sam said firmly, moving closer to wrap an arm around Dean’s chest to take some of the weight.
“Don’t want you t’see me like this,” Dean practically whispered, although he relented and leaned into Sam’s arm.
“Your my brother Dean, it’s nothing I haven’t seen. Now just relax and get it over with,” he instructed.
Right on cue, Dean’s stomach decided it wasn’t going to be controlled anymore. He lurched forward with a gag, this time bringing up a wave of vomit. Dean squeezed his eyes shut as he coughed up another mouthful. Tears stung his eyes as he continued to dry heave, even though he had nothing left.
“Alright, easy, you’re done Dean, breathe” Sam said softly, grabbing Dean by the shoulder, his other hand still pressed to Dean’s chest. Dean let Sam man handle him back into the corner to lean against the wall even as his stomach continued to clench around nothing.
Dean took a deep breath, swiping at his eyes to wipe away the tears that had escaped from the exertion. Sam felt Dean’s cheek with his hand, noting that he was even warmer. Dean was dehydrated. He needed water and he needed medicine. Could he keep it down though?
“I’ll be right back,” Sam stood up, “Just keep breathing.”
Dean slouched in the corner, taking forced breaths in through his teeth, eyes squeezed shut. By the time Sam got back his stomach had finally stopped cramping and he could breathe a little easier.
“Drink,” Sam instructed. When Dean opened his eyes there was a glass of water in front of his face. He took it with a shaking hand and brought it to his lips with some difficulty. He suddenly realized how dry his lips and his mouth were, so he took a few careful sips.
“Take it,” Dean grunted as his hand began to shake more. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold it.
“Alright, here,” Sam held his hand out with two red pills.
“Won’t stay down,” Dean shook his head.
“Well just try anyway,” Sam said.
“No,”
“Dean come on, do it for me?” Sam sighed, holding his hand out again.
Dean looked at him for a long moment then sighed, taking the pills from Sam’s hand and popping them in his mouth. He took the water back from Sam and knocked them back.
“Happy now?” Dean grunted as Sam took the glass back from him, setting it on the floor beside him.
“Yes,” Sam said, sitting down next to his brother again.
Dean, to both of their surprise, slumped against Sam’s side this time, leaning against his shoulder limply. Sam’s eyes went wide. Dean must be seriously sick to be laying on him like this.
“Mom?” Dean asked after a few minutes of silence.
Sam’s heart rate sped up, his blood going cold.
“Mom’s not here Dean, it’s just me,” Sam said as calmly as he could manage, although his voice still shook.
“Dad, where’s mommy?”
“It’s just Sam, Mom and Dad aren’t here,” Sam said.
Then Dean lurched forwards, heaving up the water and the medicine he’d just taken. Sam cursed under his breath and scooted up behind Dean to help hold him up again. This was bad.
Dean quickly ran out of stuff to throw up, and began coughing up bile and stomach acid, tears pouring down his cheeks. Sam was terrified, he had no idea what to do anymore.
As soon as Dean was able to stop gagging, Sam leaned him up against the wall again, then hurried out of the bathroom. Dean cracked his eyes open, sad to find that Sam was gone. Sam had left him. He didn’t want to be alone. This is what he’d asked for though, he supposed. He kept telling Sam to leave.
Dean felt too warm, although he could feel himself shivering. His whole body felt heavy and fuzzy. He probably couldn’t have moved even if he’d tried. The next time he opened his eyes, the edges of his vision went dark. Dean blinked a couple times to clear his eyes, but it didn’t help. Then everything went black...
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Dean came to with a gasp, eyes flying open as he shot upright. He was sitting in a nasty motel bathtub full of FREEZING water. Sam was next to him, grabbing him by the shoulders as he thrashed around.
“Hey! Hey, you’re alright, take it easy,” Sam said, the worry written all over his face.
“What the fuck Sam?” Dean asked, teeth beginning to chatter.
“Here come on let’s get you out,” Sam grabbed a towel and started to haul Dean up out of the tub.
“Get off, I can do it,” Dean snapped, pulling his arm away from Sam. He stood up slowly, feeling pretty faint. What the hell had happened?
“Alright, here,” Sam handed him the towel to dry himself off with. Dean shivered as he climbed out of the water, his clothes dripping ice cold water down his legs and his arm.
“Jesus,” Dean muttered, shaking from the cold.
“You, uh, you passed out. Your fever was so high and I didn’t know what to do so I called Bobby and then you passed out,” Sam explained sheepishly, cheeks turning red. “I was scared,” he added, gaze turning to the floor.
“Oh,” Dean said. Right. He’d been in here puking his guts up all night long. He remembered now.
“How do you feel now?” Sam asked.
“Shitty,” Dean shrugged. “But better I think.”
“Good, good,” Sam sighed. “Uh, there’s some clothes on the counter, so I’ll, uh, give you some privacy. I’ve got a trash can set up by your bed so you can try to get some sleep after we get some water and some meds in you,” Sam explained quickly, then exited the bathroom.
Dean got dressed slowly, finally starting to thaw from the ice bath he’d been given. When he walked out, Sam immediately looked up at him, seeming relieved.
“Meds and water are on the table,” he said, gesturing to the small table between their beds.
“Thanks Sam,” Dean sat down, swallowing down the pills and taking a few additional sips of water.
Sam nodded, “Ready to get some sleep?”
"I’m sorry for freaking you out Sammy,” Dean said, avoiding Sam’s eyes.
“No, Dean, it’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re okay,” Sam shook his head.
“Right. Well,uh, thanks,” Dean muttered awkwardly.
“You’d do the same thing for me Dean,” Sam said. “It’s just not usually you,” he added.
“I know,” Dean agreed, feeling his eyes drooping. He was exhausted.
“Well enough chick flick moments. Why don’t you get some shut eye,” Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Yeah, okay,” Dean said, flopping down onto the bed and pulling the covers up to his shoulders. “Love you Sammy,” he muttered, just after Sam turned off the lamp between their beds.
“Love you too Dean,”
JESS MY LOVE how are you i hope you’re having a good start to june ✨🦋🌈🌻🍓
i’m alright! ironically enough my start to july was a bit rough, i was up a lot of the night throwing up last night. but i’m feeling better now! i hope ypur start of the month was better than mine lol
This Conspiracy
PART I - THE TRIO
Chapter 2
In Which Their Arrival Is Not What They Expect
He woke up to his own retching and the sound of metal painfully grinding on metal. He gagged and coughed, trying to breathe as the stomach acid, water, and drool dripped past his lips and through the grating beneath him. The taste of bile was stale and familiar, as if he’d gotten sick many times before. And he felt like he had. He was only human, after all. Though he couldn’t recall any specific time. How odd.
He didn’t register that there was anyone else with him until his stomach had emptied itself, and he was dry heaving.
“Hey, shh,” the person said next to them, their hand rubbing soothing circles across his back. The voice was soft and distinctly feminine, pleasant to listen to. “It’s okay. Just… just let it all out.”
He looked over at the person crouched beside him. Yes, they were most definitely female – from what he could see through the periodical, rapid flicker of red lighting – if the long hair was anything to go by. A look of concern twisted her features as she watched him, curious and cautious and a bit grossed out. He would be too, if he was attempting to comfort a vomiting person.
He wondered who she was and how she’d gotten there, with him. How had he gotten there? That was a good question.
“Where are we?” he managed to choke out as he looked around. They were in a tight space of some sort – a caged elevator, from what he gathered, with various supplies. The boxes and crates and drums had a word painted on them, one he couldn’t read. The letters didn’t look quite right to him. It didn’t help that their speed was rapidly increasing as they climbed higher and higher. And the red lights seemed to flicker as they passed them. It was an unsettling feeling.
If he’d been alone, he was certain he would have had a panic attack.
“Not sure. I woke up here, just like you did.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, eyes flicking about. She looked beyond him and nodded. “Can you check on him? I didn’t want to step on you.”
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I was sick the whole day. Started feeling cold last midnight. And then i vomited just earlier and I don't feel dizzy anymore. Can handle facing the screens now, compared to earlier. I might try posting later, that is if I continue to get better....i still have to do telemed with my doctor
I've been feeling a bit meh all day and my throat has been hurting and I just woke up feeling like I just spent a month in the Sahara so i took a big sip of water and just threw up right on my bedroom floor and now I wanna cry