Sick - Blog Posts
In this fic I totally ignore the ending of the show, everyone totally lived happily ever after and Cairo and Al get to be happy together totally @intransitpodcast
Cairo x Al sick fic (pt 1)
Cairo ran up to Al’s quarters and started banging on the door incessantly, not caring about the glares he was getting from those around him trying to go about their general business in the corridor.
“Who is it?” a hoarse voice croaked from inside, half knowing the answer.
“Cairo, can I come in?”
He sounded urgent and panicked, causing Al to force himself upright to answer the door, anxious to hear what Cairo was so up in arms about.
As the door whooshed open Cairo immediately enveloped Al in a quick hug, taking a deep breath before pulling away to look him over.
“You look like hell,” Cairo commented, scanning Al’s figure and noting that he was shaking.
“I feel it,” Al tried to joke, forcing a slight laugh which devolved quickly into a cough, Al having to place a weak hand on Cairo’s tall frame as an attempt to stop himself from doubling over.
Cairo frowned slightly and led Al to sit back down on the bed once he had finished coughing, reaching into his bag and pulling out a bottle of water,
“Here.” he said, passing the unopened bottle to Al
“What are you doing here, Cairo?” Al said, feebly trying to open the bottle before handing it to Cairo so he could open it.
“Your work phoned.” Cairo replied, handing a now opened bottle back to Al “something about their best doctor, who has never missed a shift before by the way, not showing up to work.”
Al sighed slightly in response.
“Why did they phone you?”
“Boyfriend remember,” Cairo teased “I’m your emergency contact. Better than your dad turning up and reprimanding you for ‘damaging the legacy’,” Cairo continued, mimicking Elio Vaughn’s voice like he was quoting him directly.
“I’m fine Cairo-”
“Really?”
Al hesitated slightly
“I’ll be fine,” he continued, not wanting to lie to Cairo
“No offence Al but you really need to learn how to accept help,”
“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black,” Al joked, letting out a feeble laugh
“Look, I may not be a doctor, but I can take care of you when you’re sick Al,”
“I’m fine, it’s not even that ba-” Al began before disproving his point by coughing vigorously, holding tightly onto Cairo’s shoulder as his vision began to spin.
“I’m-i’m fine, besides I might make you sick too and that’s even worse,”
“Al,”
“And then you’ll have to miss work too, and I know you love it now that Alecto has made you a navigator,”
“Al,”
“And I’d hate to be the one to take you away from that especially by being needy and stupid and-”
Cairo cut Al off by kissing him softly, cupping his cheeks in his hand as he pressed his body against Al’s gently, holding him close, so carefully you’d think he was made of glass.
“I want to be here,” Cairo said pulling away, “I may not be very good at this stuff, but for once let me be the one to care for you rather than the other way round, besides,” Cairo began teasingly “it’s not just the fever that makes you hot as fuck,”
“I-Cairo! I- It’s not fair to make me flustered when I’m ill!”
“Oh so now you admit you’re ill.”
“No I- shut up!” Al said, pushing Cairo away gently “you shouldn’t kiss me when I’m like this, you’ll definitely get ill”
“Too right, your breath smells gross- Ow!” Cairo said, responding to being punched in the arm by Al “besides I never get ill,” Cairo continued confidently, laying down on the bed, patting the space next to him to try and coerce Al to lie with him.
“Ok fine,” Al gave in, slowly lowering himself from sitting to be laying next to Cairo, leaning into his chest and closing his eyes “but only because I’m tired and you’re comfortable, not because I’m sick or anything” Al said drowsily as Cairo wrapped an arm around him.
“Definitely not” Cairo teased, holding Al in his arms gently as they both drifted off to sleep.
Tempted to do a part 2 where Cairo gets sick because of this haha, what do you guys think?
Im sick like VERY sick and this makes my day
i think he likes trophy
some more mother Emily stuff please
Maybe y/n is slightly ill
Emily comes home from being on a two week long case and sees them falling asleep while folding laundry and taking care of child so Emily decides to take child out to the park or something while y/n get some well needed to rest
Comes back home take care of all the chores puts child to bed
Cuddle up with y/n
Fluffy dovey lovey stuff
Enjoy!
When You Get Home
- - -
The door creaked open just after 5, Emily stepping over the threshold with her go-bag slung over her shoulder. Her suit jacket was folded over her arm, her hair back, and exhaustion clinging to her skin.
Two weeks on a joint task force out of state, too long without her partner, too long without her boys. She shut the door softly, locking it behind her.
The living room was dimly lit by soft afternoon sun filtering through the curtains, there was the faint scent of laundry detergent in the air.
The TV played low in the background, something animated. She heard soft giggles. Then…
“Mommy!”
“Mommy!”
Twin tornadoes of joy hurtled toward her. Alec and Theo, four years old and chaos personified, each with mismatched socks and superhero t-shirts, collided with her legs and arms in a tackle hug.
Emily bent immediately, her bag falling forgotten to the floor as she knelt and wrapped them up tight. “My boys,” she whispered, kissing their cheeks one after the other.
“I missed you both so much!”
A rustle caught her attention from the couch. Emily’s head turned, and her heart dropped. Y/N Y/L/N, her partner, her best friend, the love of her life, was curled awkwardly at the end of the couch.
A mountain of clothes needing to be folded, their hands sluggish and trembling, their cheeks were flushed with fever, strands of hair stuck to their temple.
They blinked heavily, as though it took effort to stay awake. There were tissues on the coffee table, and a half-drunk mug of tea forgotten beside them.
Y/N smiled weakly, “I… hi, baby,” they rasped. “I was trying to clean up. The boys were running circles all day, and laundry kept piling up…”
Emily crossed the room in seconds. She knelt next to her partner, brushing the damp hair from Y/N’s forehead. “You’re sick, love,” she said gently, “Why didn’t you call your mom to help?”
Y/N gave her a sheepish shrug, “Didn’t wanna bother her. You were gone. I thought I could manage. I’m okay, just… just tired.”
Emily pressed a kiss to their forehead, already feeling the heat radiating from their skin. “Y/N. You are allowed to rest. Let me take over now, okay?”
“But the laundry-”
“I’ve got it,” Emily promised, “All of it. Right now, you’re going to bed.” Y/N blinked hard, lips trembling like she might argue, but Emily was already helping her stand.
Y/N leaned into her with a sigh, whispering a soft, tiny, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Emily murmured, wrapping her arm around them, “You’ve done everything… let me do the rest.”
Once Y/N was tucked beneath the blankets, humidifier humming, fever medicine given and a cool cloth set on her forehead, Emily turned back to the living room where the twins were currently scaling the couch like a mountain.
“Boys,” she called gently, “how about we go on an adventure?” Both heads whipped toward her. “A park adventure?!” Theo asked, his eyes wide.
“Maybe even… ice cream?” Emily grinned, her smile ear to ear. Alex gasped, “Mommy, you just got home! We can really go?”
“We really can. But only if you help me put on your shoes.”
- - -
Within minutes, Emily was carrying a small backpack with snacks, wipes, and water bottles, her old BAU instincts turning domestic.
The twins were bundled in light jackets, and they set off, hand on hand toward the neighbourhood park.
They laughed on the swings, raced across the grass and climbed the jungle gym while Emily stood beneath it like a bodyguard.
“Good job!” and “Feet first, Theo!” would scream every few minutes as she watched them with a smile.
Afterward, when the boys were tired, they sat in the sun, each of them holding a single scoop of chocolate in a cup. Emily wiped their sticky faces and kissed their heads, her heart aching in the best way.
On the walk home, both Alex and Theo started yawning, leading Emily to carrying both on either arm for the last block.
- - -
Once home, Emily gave the twins a bath, using the bubble soap Y/N always bought because it, “smelled like calm.” They splashed, argued about toys, and asked if Y/N was okay.
“They’re resting…” Emily told them, towelling them dry. “And they’ll feel better soon. But they miss you both very much!”
Theo pressed his hand to his heart, “I miss Mama too.” Emily tucked them into their twin beds, kissed their cheeks and read two short books before they drifted off.
Then… laundry. She returned to the pile on the couch, folding small shirts, unmatched socks and tiny pants while a crime documentary played quietly in the background.
It was oddly meditative.
Kitchen next. Dishes were stacked, counters wiped, bottles cleaned and put away. By the time she turned off the last light, the house had gone still.
Emily padded into their bedroom, stripping down to an old t-shirt before crawling into bed beside Y/N. Y/N stirred with a soft breath, “You did everything… didn’t you?”
Emily slid an arm around them, pulling them close, “Just catching up.” Y/N burrowed into Emily’s chest, legs tangling with hers. “Fever still here,” they murmured.
“I know,” Emily whispered, kissing their damp temple, “I’ll be here all night. Holding you through every degree of it… right here…” Y/N sighed as Emily shifted to make sure they were comfortable.
“I missed you,” Y/N said softly. “I missed you too,” Emily returned.
Can you write some Emily x reader sickfic
one with Emily sick and then one with reader sick
one of them ends up in the hospital in one of them
lots of cuddles and forehead kisses maybe even a nice bath(with soft slow orgasm)
Sorry for the late response!
In Sickness and In Health…
Summary: Emily gets sick first, and then, when her girlfriend gets sick too, Emily coaxes her back to health.
Emily Prentiss wasn’t one to go down easily, but when she did, it hit like a freight train. Fever, chills, body aches that made even sitting up feel like a mountain climb. And somehow, her girlfriend Y/N managed to look completely unbothered by the whirlwind she’d stepped into… calm, steady, warm.
“Water,” Emily croaked from beneath a pile of blankets on the couch, and without a word, Y/N was handing her a glass, kneeling beside her with that small, reassuring smile.
“You’re burning up. Drink this, then I’m putting on Sense and Sensibility. You’re due for some emotional regulation,” Y/N teased softly, brushing sweat-damp strands away from Emily’s forehead.
For two days, Y/N became everything Emily didn’t know she needed: soft socks, forehead kisses, cold compresses, soup just the way Emily liked it, blended smooth with way too much pepper. Her favourite tea brewed just right. A heated blanket warmed in the dryer before being wrapped around her. When Emily shivered, Y/N curled up behind her, letting her body heat soothe where words couldn’t reach.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered, every hour, without fail.
And slowly, Emily did get better. But Y/N… didn’t.
Emily knew something was wrong when she woke up to the sound of retching and the unmistakable thud of someone hitting the floor.
“Y/N?” she called, heart racing.
No answer. She threw off the covers and stumbled into the bathroom.
Y/N was collapsed on the cold tile floor, curled in on herself, her skin pale and slick with sweat, breath hitching in shallow, panicked gulps. Her lips were dry and cracked, and her hands trembled uncontrollably.
“Baby… hey, hey,” Emily dropped to her knees beside her, gently turning her over. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused. Her voice was barely a rasp.
“You were cold,” she mumbled, confused. “You were so cold—I… I couldn’t find the blankets—” Her body shook violently.
Emily didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her arms around her, holding her steady. “Shhh. You’re burning up, sweetheart. We’re going to the hospital. Stay with me.”
The paramedics came fast. Y/N was too weak to sit up on her own, barely coherent by the time they got her onto the stretcher. Emily held her hand in the ambulance, whispering soft reassurances as machines beeped around them.
At the hospital, Emily stood beside the bed in her sweatpants and hoodie, jaw clenched as the nurses hooked Y/N up to IV fluids and cooling blankets. Her fever had spiked to 40°C, her body drenched in sweat and trembling under the weight of it. Her lips moved now and then, soft murmurs that didn’t make sense, childhood memories, Emily’s name, something about fig trees.
“Is she going to be okay?” Emily asked one of the doctors.
The answer was kind, but cautious. “She’s young and healthy, so we’re optimistic. It’s a nasty viral infection. The fever’s just doing a number on her system. But we’ve got her now.”
Emily didn’t leave the room. She sat on the little reclining chair, feet tucked under her, never taking her eyes off Y/N. She held her hand through the delirium, murmured stories about old cases, about Italy, about their first kiss in the rain outside a jazz bar. She wiped down her forehead every hour and kissed her knuckles when no one was looking.
And when Y/N’s eyes finally focused on her, truly saw her, Emily smiled for the first time in days.
“You came back to me,” she whispered, and Y/N blinked, confused but comforted.
“Where else would I go?”
- - -
The Slow Return to Softness
It had been a week since Y/N came home. She was stronger now, colour back in her cheeks, voice steadier, even if she still got tired walking from the bedroom to the kitchen. Emily didn’t let her lift a finger.
When Y/N asked for a bath, Emily lit candles. Dimmed the lights. Eucalyptus oil in the water, lavender soap on the edge. She helped her undress with slow hands and gentle eyes, not like she was stripping her down, but like she was unwrapping something precious.
She stepped into the tub first and guided Y/N between her legs, letting her lean back against her chest. Emily wrapped her arms around her waist, warm water rippling up over their skin, steam rising around them like a cocoon.
Y/N let out a long, deep sigh. “You make everything better,” she whispered.
Emily pressed a kiss behind her ear. “That’s the plan.”
Silence stretched between them, soft and easy. Then Y/N tilted her head back just slightly, her voice low and hesitant.
“Can I ask for one more thing?”
“Always.”
“I want to… feel good. With you. Nothing fast. Just… soft. Like I’m still here. Still real.”
Emily’s hands tightened gently around her middle. “Okay,” she breathed.
One hand stayed splayed across Y/N’s stomach, the other slid lower, fingers gliding through the warm water, slow and reverent. She didn’t rush. She just touched, gently, rhythmically, as Y/N melted into her, every part of her body relaxing into safety, into closeness.
“You’re okay,” Emily whispered against her neck. “You’re so safe. Let go.”
Y/N whimpered, breath catching, body trembling, not from fever this time, but from the slow, rising tide that Emily coaxed from her with nothing but love. Her head dropped back onto Emily’s shoulder as she came, quiet and soft, a little broken sob of relief leaving her lips.
Emily kissed her temple, her jaw, her cheek. Held her through the aftershocks. Didn’t move a muscle as the water stilled around them.
They stayed like that long after, Emily gently washing Y/N’s skin, arms wrapped around her, soft hums low in her throat, like a lullaby for the woman she adored.
i identify as whatever this is ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️
#XIUXIU4EVER
a lovely YCH here commission for anon! ( *´︶`*)♡
this as an American traditional tat2 would go crazyyyyy/bonkers/insane also #literallyme yo
In the 1980s Olaf was deliberately looking for effect and shocking, as in his series Chessmen (1988) https://www.mendo.nl/product/erwin-olaf-i-am-english-version/ [Joel Peter Witkin is clearly not far from his deliberations either--Esco20]
chaos blasterover by @ jamesgohc
me if i were a person >:)🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮 haha fml
ROONEY MARA as Lisbeth Salander THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO (2011) dir. David Fincher
Ada M. Patterson, the hammeress in a state of disgrace, digital video, audio, 2024
me finding balance after stabbing myself twice :)👍
don demarco!🔊 don demarco!🔊
This quote won’t really make sense without context. “It’s Gorgug. Keep Going.”
Trans tips #8!
Modified (forced) voice training!
Get strep throat
Start to lose your voice
Realize you have to pitch your voice down to speak clearly and not in a whisper
That's it that's the whole post!
I hate being sick because tell me why I can’t breathe through my nose but my throat hurts at the same time?? What am I even supposed to do in this situation?? 😭😭
Anyways it’s currently 23:26 (11:26pm) and I can’t sleep bc i’m not able to breath and it’s making me feel like crap.
Yippee!! (Sarcasm.)
In other news I got some dragon things today
I love dragons sm
