I am sick in bed here are some thoughts
Recovery whump with conditioned whumpee, because I will never stop loving misunderstandings and unexpected realizations in caretaker's interactions with whumpee
Whumpee can't eat while someone watches them. Whumper said it was disgusting the way they devoured the food like an animal - as if they hadn't been starving whumpee in the first place. They accept it politely and almost vibrate with repressed impulses until caretaker leaves, sometimes sitting on their hands or chewing at their lips.
Whumpee wakes up with the sunrise each morning. It makes them anxious to not have an East facing window, afraid they'll miss it. Not that they have anything to do that early in their new life, besides sit with the memories and wait for something to happen, jittery at not having tasks to chip away at or chores to labor over. But if they're awake before caretaker, that's all that matters. They won't ever be caught sleeping in again, ever.
Whumpee has been trained to move as silently as possible. Not so much as a rule, but it helped avoid perception. Unless they're doing a task, in which case they may make reasonable amounts of noise, they focus all their attention on their breathing, their footsteps, the shift of their clothing. Breathing slightly open mouthed with airway wide to avoid whistling sounds or sibillance, roll stepping and flexing calves to move silently, paying attention to never wear anything too flowy or jangly. It unnerves caretaker how soundlessly whumpee can come and go, how easy it is to forget they're even in the same room.
Whumpee always folds themselves over in a car. They were never allowed to look out the window of a vehicle, always had to keep their head down and arms tucked under their legs - or even made to sit on the floor. Now this translates to nausea and panic at seeing the world go by. Eyes shut tight, fingers gripping thighs, body small as if hiding from the world.
Whumpee has not been allowed to look through the windows of Whumper's home, or allow others to see them through the windows. When they wake up in recovery and the room is brightly lit from the sun beaming over blue skies whumpee thinks they're about to get the beating of a life time, knocking things over in their attempt to scramble under the bed or into a corner, apologizing profusely the whole time.
Whumpee smiles 24-7. Its not a pleasant smile. More like it's been glued on or hammered into place. Just a quirk of the lips, a purposeful relaxing of the eyebrows. From a distance it looks passable, but cracks quickly appear when looking for longer than a few seconds.
Similarly, all words whumpee speaks are affirmative of whatever caretaker has said. Polite, reactive enough that it seems like genuine agreement, restating caretaker's thoughts as their own. Never a complaint, never a negative description of something. Caretaker thinks things are going pretty well until they see someone else join in engaging with Whumpee - someone with different opinions than caretaker. When Caretaker mentions going to the park and their friend suggests the river walk instead, and they put it to whumpee to decide, whumpee looks a bit like they're going to be sick.
Definitely more of these but I am so icky and tired 💛💚💛💚 -> my sinuses are inventing new shades of yellow-green :>
