#How tf did they determine top posts if none of my original posts have any notes 😂😂😂 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cats-moss-gays · 4 years ago

Text

@terflies

You’ve been all over my posts so I’m just going to consolidate into this one. I’m tired of scrolling past your long and quite frankly boring responses. This post will be divided into sections. If you’re going to respond please say something interesting. However I doubt either of us will ever change the other’s mind. These are kind of like closing statements and I doubt I’ll make anymore major responses because I’m trying to stay focused on offline things.

1. Unanswered Questions

There are some questions and statements in my reblogs that you conveniently ignored.

Definition of a woman? You responded with some generic bs that very clearly isn’t an answer. I’ll be more specific, what should the dictionary definition be? Any ideas?

If I don’t feel like a woman am I allowed to identify as one? You said you weren’t going to humour this question but it is applicable to me and many other gc women. I definitely don’t have any internal feeling of womanhood, or any gender. Does this mean I have to be agender? Is the female gender label restricted to a certain feeling? Or is there absolutely nothing that women have in common?

What is the feeling of womanhood? You kind of answered this but I have a follow up question. You say the feeling of womanhood is enjoying being perceived as a woman. If I feel indifferent to this does it mean I’m not a woman? Additionally, many women feel uncomfortable with being perceived as a woman because of the misogyny associated with the label, does this make them men?

2. Inaccurate Statements and Lies

I don’t believe any “TRAs” define women by gender roles

You may not but there are many who do. It’s also important to point out how deeply ingrained gender roles are in society; you can’t stop them by just saying your choices exist in a vacuum. I’m sure you think I’m just making this up for fun, so here are some examples ;) x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

So this whole…thing is dishonest from the start. Gender does not replace sex.

In another post you said that laws should be based on gender instead of sex. So which is it, either gender isn’t replacing sex or it is. When feminists talk about sex based oppression they’re called terfs. When gay people say their attraction is based on sex they’re called transphobic. When people were saying that only females get cervical cancer, they were called violent transphobes. Gender is absolutely attempting to replace sex as the basis of legal protections, safe spaces, political movements, etc. Two of the top post on my blog are more extreme example of this. x - x

BONUS: You’re saying TERF rhetoric

3. The “Questions” Post

You seem very confused about how to define biological sex and to some extent I understand that but you have to stop playing dumb. There must be some way that doctors are able to identify the sex of a fetus before it’s even born in the vast majority of cases, right? And before you try to say I’m just ignoring the existence of intersex people or trying to deny science, I’ll point out that I have watched and read a lot of “sex is a spectrum” stuff. I understand that DSDs exist and that biology is complicated. Our disagreement is mostly not over the facts but over how to define them. I know that however I explain it you’ll pretend you don’t understand it, so instead I’ll just link you to some other sources that explain it more in depth. x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

A third sex—and many creatures have more than two—does not necessarily mean a third gamete. Mostly this question is a childish distraction, but if you were to use a strict, gamete-based definition of sex the answer would be “none”.

So all infertile people are a third sex? To be female you have to be able to bear children? And you call me regressive, yikes. This can be debunked with the same sources from above but I wanted to feature it in my post because I want people to know that you think there’s a third sex.

I made a quick little chart to compare all the things gender has been compared to! The difference is that while many are socially defined, gender is socially constructed. If someone never interacted with other humans, they would still have a skin color, have or not have specific abilities, have a sexual orientation, and be male or female. They would not have an observable gender identity.

1 - You refuse to humor my questions about being a woman who doesn’t feel like one, however this is not in bad faith; I do want to know what you think. Many gc/radfems, including myself, and many women in general do not have a specific feeling of gender. This is especially true for gnc women, who often feel a disconnect from the feminine gender role and subsequently, the feminine gender. The solution is to realize that there are no standards to conform to to be a woman, no clothes or interests or feelings, just the biological reality one is born with.

2 - You say “the feeling of womanhood is enjoying being called a woman” but what does that mean? It’s circular reasoning, a fallacy called begging the question. How do you know you are a woman? If I gave up being a terf on tumblr, how would you advise that I identify if I don’t think I feel like a woman? My current plan was to just pick the mogai flag with the prettiest colors, but I’m thinking maybe there’s more to it than that...

3 - See my explanation above. Sex is comparable to race or disability or sexuality; gender is not.

4 - You say genders are social classes. If they are indeed social classes, they are unnecessary ones that reinforce oppression. They are undefinable when not based on biological sex or gender roles. The other example of classes I can think of is wealth. Wealth classes have obvious divisions, you can’t just identify into more money. Gender has nothing that is shared by every woman, man, or nonbinary, so you can just identify in and out of classes. Additionally, if there are like 100 genders, are there 100 classes?

4. The “Biological” Sex Post

Gender does not replace sex

Then why are TRAs trying to say sexuality, legal protections, bathrooms, spaces, political movements, etc should be based on gender instead of sex? You keep contradicting yourself; you should talk to your fellow trans activists because many would disagree. Also see my response in part two.

A number of points here aren’t factually wrong but simple (*simply) irrelevant

So you would agree that biological sex is important and that it is relevant to many conversations? Then why were people getting mad about this?

Or this?

On to the specific examples. This post is long enough already and I’m not going to spoon feed basic biology to you because you’ll probably just ignore it. I referenced a variety of sources earlier. I’ll just reference Invisible Women since it’s an amazing book.

1. This first point is, appropriately enough, true in isolation; it just doesn’t support Paradox Institute’s argument. Listing it leads the audience to believe that truth is on their side, but PI do nothing at all to justify that.

So nothing here is true? They’re just lying? Here are their sources btw.

2. Generally irrelevant, but not entirely biologically accurate, either. It isn’t that ‘male’ and ‘female’ are categories intrinsic to nature that produce small, motile and large, immotile gametes respectively; ‘male’ and ‘female’ are labels we assign (generally, but not always) according to gamete size.

So it’s not relevant that one sex has the ability to carry children or menstruation or get an abortion? It’s not like there’s any issues women face specifically for that, right? So we assign the labels male and female to gametes. If you want to play semantics, sure, we created the words, but the gametes themselves already existed. Not really sure what you’re trying to say here other than disagreeing for the sake of disagreeing and moving some words around. Are you implying that the categorizations of gametes are subjective? Are you saying there’s a spectrum of gametes?? Are eggs just big sperm and sperm just small eggs??? Genuinely have no idea what the fuck you’re trying to prove here.

3. Whatever your opinion of evolutionary psychology, this does not preclude gender. (On the contrary, we ought to include gender in our understanding of cultural development with respect to sex.)

The only gender in history was gender roles, and both were tied to sex in most cases. Sex absolutely came before gender and is more integral to our existence. In any time before the last few decades, gender and sex were basically synonyms.

4. Entirely a straw argument. And, to the contrary, precision greater than two sex categories would be beneficial (i.e. specific sex characteristics, history, endocrinology etc.).

Obviously doctors don’t just diagnose based on sex, they factor in medical history and other traits. Precision is irrelevant because it still focuses on sex not gender. If it’s “entirely a straw argument” why did someone else reblog your response with this?

Speaking as a member of a medical family, the medical one fucking OFFENDS me.

Blood type HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH GENDER. Or biological sex! Both are totally irrelevant! And medication dosage is determined by AGE and SIZE. A 25-year-old 160-pound person with a penis needs the exact same dose as a 25-year-old 160-pound person with a vagina. In fact, possibly LESS of a dose, if the person with a penis is 5’10” and the person with a vagina is 5’5”. (The taller person may be underweight.)

This is just. UGH. I could scream.

@prismatic-bell this is one of the funniest and dumbest replies I’ve ever gotten. First of all “member of a medical family” tf is that lmao. This reminds me of that post where the “medical worker” tra turned out to be a garbage collector guy. I have no idea why you brought up blood type when it is literally never mentioned in the original post. Strawman much? Fucking obviously blood type isn’t affected by sex, and you’re completely missing the point if you think gender has anything to do with this. Medication dosage is decided by age and size, yes, but also biological sex. This is like basic medical science, dumbass. Mandatory reading from Invisible Women as punishment for your stupidity crimes:

People called her a terf for this :)

5. How sports are best divided is a far broader question than this point implies. We could, for example, segregate sports by relevant physical attributes (as is already the case in some sports) rather than by sex or gender. This point also presupposes (but does not justify) that a woman having an advantage in women’s sports by dint of being trans is significantly greater than an advantage any woman might have by dint of her natural attributes (which, empirically, she does not) and hence would be unfair. That said, enforcement of “female” sports is already marred by racism and perisexism.

You agree sex and gender are different, yes? So then why should males be in female sports? You’re trying to distract me with that stuff about physical performance and whatever. Focus on the question at hand, should males be allowed into female sports? We cannot eradicate sex-segregated sports because female athletes will be even more systematically disadvantaged. If you were truly a feminist you’d understand that female sports are the result of the movement you claim to support. More Invisible Women facts plus some interesting info about the plough hypothesis:

6. Simply untrue. Excluding trans women from statistics about women on the basis that doing so would affect those statistics is arbitrary at best. Those statistics may change, but that does not mean they are unsuitable or inappropriate. The exclusion of any subset of women can be justified in exactly the same way.

Nope! Stop trying to use women of color and intersex women as justifications for why we should let men pretend to be women. You’ve seen the hundreds of receipts of trans women committing all sorts of male violence. Has anyone found anywhere near a comparable number of trans men doing similar things? They have not, even though if trans men were truly men they would be much more violent.

7. The majority of single-sex spaces are, functionally, just as much single-gender (owing to the traditional equivalence of ‘sex’ and ‘gender’ and to the majority of the population being cis. Trans people have been using spaces appropriate to their gender for decades, whereas concerns about them doing so are based on speculation and hypotheticals rather than fact. (Aided, as with a lot of bigotry, by bad and manipulated statistics.)

I’ve spoken about my opinions on the bathroom debate before. If a passing trans person uses the bathroom of their choice I don’t really care, but there have already been many examples of men making women uncomfortable in their bathrooms, or worse. Making all bathrooms gender neutral is by far the worst idea, but unfortunately that seems to be where we’re headed. More Invisible Women, just for fun:

8. This is the worst red herring, exploiting violent misogyny for the sake of argument. It is another straw argument, too, since—even ignoring trans-positive feminism in practice and assuming trans people act only in self-interest��trans people are concerned with addressing such injustice.

Sure, many trans people are supportive of feminism. But we can’t effectively dismantle the patriarchy if we can’t accurately describe the (sex-based) oppression involved. Women are routinely silenced when talking about our biology, even when there is no “transphobic” language involved. “Trans-positive feminism” also often reinforces misogyny by supporting sex work and porn, and by shutting down analysis of things like femininity and makeup because “some women like it.” See also from trans activists: misogyny racism homophobia + lesbophobia

9. Similar to (7) there is no consistent distinction between sex and gender across law. Even so, this is another red herring as it is possible to recognise both sex and gender in laws and policies. Some laws already do (at least functionally, if not explicitly).

You can deny it but the TRA train is leaving without you and they’ve been clear about their goals. As you’ve seen in this post, gender is intended to replace sex. Those who bring up sex-based issues are silenced as “terfs” who deserve the hatred thrown at them.

Sorry for making such a long post but I was on a roll so I just kept writing. I don’t expect @terflies to respond to all of this but I wanted an excuse to make some sort of masterpost that links to a lot of my other posts and can be used in the future. Online school is going pretty well and I’m trying to start some doing some hobbies that are better than tumblr blogging.

#my posts #discourse #factfem #receipts #masterpost #there's so many things mentioned in this post i'm not going to bother tagging them all #debunking anti terfs #terf

35 notes · View notes

mypoorfaves · 7 years ago

Text

Breathing is Easier With You

Summary: Victor comes down with the flu and is a fevered and miserable mess. Yuuri takes care of him until he gets better.

Set post-season 1. There will be no emeto because that squicks me tf out, even in fiction, but there is complaints of mild stomach issues and a bit of anxiety around that. It all turns out okay though, I promise! There will also be fevered dreams, all centred around Victor’s pov.

Choosing flu over cold because I've heard people say it comes on more quickly. Plus, cold is more prominent in fanfic (from what I've seen) so I thought this might be more refreshing.

5600~ words ＼(^o^)／

～～～

Victor turns over in bed with another frustrated huff for what must have been the 10th time in 15 minutes. He has been tossing and turning non-stop for what feels like the past 3 hours, although he's fairly certain it hasn't actually been that long. Regardless of the time, the entire duration of it has been undeniable suffering.

He had woken up in the middle of the night (however long ago it was) with the sheets sticking to his sweaty skin. He originally thought it had just been from the nightmare that had him gasping for breath but even after the illusion had faded and his mind had calmed down, there was still an immeasurable amount of discomfort that plagued Victor and wouldn't leave. His body was radiating too much heat and no matter which way he turned, he couldn't get comfortable. And if he did manage to get comfortable, he would have to move again mere minutes later because his body heat warmed up the space.

So that brings him to now.

Victor briefly wonders if there's something wrong with him and if he should be concerned for his health but figures it's likely nothing. It's certainly not worth waking up the sleeping beauty next to him, his breaths deep and even, his sleep soundless and restful.

Victor bites his lip as he watches Yuuri sleep. Normally, watching his fiance's serene expression would have brought him peace but now it brings about a small surge of jealousy at his ability to so easily embrace unconscious like Victor desperately wishes he could.

He abruptly turns on his side away from Yuuri to both distract himself from his predicament and also to try and solve it as he attempts futilely once again to get comfortable. If he stays perfectly still and closes his eyes, maybe he'll be able to fall asleep, he reasons. Staying still, though, means lying under the blankets that are too warm and on top of the sheets that are still clinging to his skin. Regardless, determined to try, he lays there and doesn't move.

He lasts for a solid 120 seconds before he gives another frustrated groan and peels the covers off his body, sits up and heads to the bathroom for a glass of water. He gets up too fast and has to pause for a moment as the dizziness passes and even after the lightheadedness fades, there is still a lingering headache.

His body moves on autopilot and he soon finds himself in the bathroom with a glass of cold water at his lips. He drinks and gives a sigh of relief as it quenches his thirst and thankfully does seem to help his overheated state.

“Victor?” comes a sleepy voice and Victor turns to see a groggy Yuuri standing in the doorway. “What’re you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Victor says.

“You weren't in bed, so I went looking for you,” comes Yuuri's answer.

“Ah, sorry. I couldn't sleep, so I went to get some water,” Victor apologizes. He watches Yuuri yawn and adorably scrub at his eyes.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Yuuri’s soft and tired brown eyes hold care and concern as he leans against the doorframe.

“Couldn't get comfortable. Too hot,” is all he says, not bothering to mention the nightmare. He fights a shiver as the memory crosses his mind again.

At Victor’s explanation, Yuuri's expression changes just slightly. His eyes still hold concern but now there's a small spark of intensity with it that has replaced any previous signs of fatigue.

“Do you think you might have a fever or something?”

“No, I'm pretty sure it's nothing,” Victor dismisses with a lazy wave of his hand. He finishes the rest of the water before he sets the cup back down near the sink. As he looks up, he catches sight of his reflection in the mirror.

The first thing he notices is the heavy bags under his eyesーwhich is to be expected given the battle for sleep he had been fighting (and losing). Then he notices his silver hair is a mess and his bangs are sticking to his sweaty forehead. What stands out lastly, though, is the tinge of red high on his cheekbones.

“Oh,” Victor thinks. Maybe there is something wrong with him.

He catches Yuuri's reflection moving towards him, all the while staring at him in the mirror, though it's unlikely he can see the tell-tale signs of illness on his features without his glasses. Victor turns to meet him and without warning there's a hand on his now-exposed forehead. The touch catches him by surprise, as does the small sigh of relief that escapes him at the feel of Yuuri's cool fingers on his heated skin.

“Come. Sit,” Yuuri orders, but in a tone without harshness as he guides Victor to the toilet. He closes the lid and sits Victor down, then rummages through some drawers for a thermometer.

Victor is practically falling asleep on the cool porcelainーwhich is a bit of a relief, since he hasn't been able to sleep for so longーbut is awakened with the tip of the thermometer prodding at his lips. Victor complies and opens his mouth, holding the device under his tongue.

As they wait for the numbers, Yuuri doesn't speak but his eyes hold a tender sympathy as he gently caresses Victor's face and runs his fingers through his dampened bangs. It's almost enough to cause Victor to drift off again but the sound of sharp and rapid beeping brings him back.

Yuuri withdraws the thermometer and frowns at it, then at his current mess of a finance. “You have a fever of 38.6. No wonder you couldn't sleep,” Yuuri says. “Why didn't you try and wake me up if you were so uncomfortable?” he adds with poorly masked hurt.

“I didn't think it was a big deal. I don't usually get sick,” Victor shrugs. He struggles to remember the last time he actually was sick but his sluggish brain can't be bothered to come up with the answer. He deems it unnecessary in the end and gives up the search.

“Come back to bed. I'll take care of you,” Yuuri offers while taking his heated hand. “And don't even think about refusing saying ‘it's not a big deal,’” Yuuri pointedly adds, then his tone softens. “You're my fiance, soon to be husband. ‘In sickness and in health;' that's the deal.”

“That is how it goes, isn't it?” Victor complies as he stands slowly with Yuuri's support.

“Even if it wasn't, I’d still take care of you,” Yuuri says without hesitation, and Victor knows he means it. “I love you. Now let's get you back to bed, and I'll get you some cold water and a face cloth, okay?”

Victor just nods and lets himself get lead along to their room. Yuuri helps him onto the bed where he collapses on top of the covers. He's too exhausted to try and get underneath, although Victor figures the heat would be too sweltering anyway. Yuuri leaves to grab the needed supplies and Victor falls asleep moments later.

～

“Next on the ice is Victor Nikiforov who has made a comeback to skating despite rumours of retirement after he put his career on hold and flew to Japan to coach his now-fiance, skater Yuuri Katsuki,” the announcer's voice resonates throughout the venue as Victor skates a lap around the rink. “Victor’s aim has always been to surprise the audience, so we are all anticipating what he has in store for us with his routine today.”

He takes his starting position and waits for the music, feeling every eye on him, but none matters more than Yuuri’s.

The music begins, a light and gentle melody, and he glides. He thinks of Yuuri, the man who has shown him the love and passion he was missing in his life and so much more. The instrumentals pick up and Victor smiles, preparing for the first jump. He builds up speed, braces his body and takes off, flying high and free and landing with a grin.

Despite his cleanーflawless, evenーlanding, the audience is silent; no reaction whatsoever. It's strange, and it's eerie. It's not like Victor simply cannot hear, because the music is still ringing clearly. Nobody is cheering, nobody is clapping. There is no emotion on anybody's face.

They're not surprised.

The thought nearly causes Victor to trip as cold dread courses through his bones. He doesn't show it, he can't show it. So he skates. He grits his teeth, forces a smile and he skates.

Another jump, another silent arena. Not even the announcers are saying a word.

Spin combination, jump combination; still nothing. Not a sound, save for blades scraping the ice and his own ragged breaths.

Victor's mind is reeling. No matter what he does, nothing is invoking any kind of reaction.

He needs to hear it. He needs to know all of the blood, sweat and tears put into perfecting this routine wasn't in vain. He needs to know that he is still Victor Nikiforov and he is still at the top of the skating world and he can still surprise people and make them feel something.

He changes his last jump to a combination in a spur-of-the-moment decision; a quad axelーnever seen before, previously deemed impossible. He had been practicing it in secret. It’s followed by his signature move, the quad flip, the jump that Yuuri makes look many times more beautiful than Victor could ever hope to make it.

Victor falls hard on the flip and nobody makes a sound. No gasps from the crowd, no laughing at his failure, not even pointing at his disgraceful form and pitiful expression as he collapses and doesn't bother to get up.

There is nothing. The music has stopped. Victor doesn't know if he missed his ending pose or if the music got shut off before then. It doesn't matter if he finishes his routine. What's the point if nobody is entertained? Nobody loves him anymore.

Except for Yuuri.

Victor abruptly lifts his head, clambers to his feet and turns to the exit where Yuuri would surely be waiting for him.

Yuuri is there but his face is blank. No expression, no emotion. No sign of the beautiful smile that lights up Victor's life time and time again and makes him feel lighter rather than weighed down by the world he carried on his shoulders for so long.

“Yuuri,” Victor tries to call out, but it doesn't reach. He has no voice

Yuuri stares through him with hollow eyes, his lack of expression making his emotions unreadable.

“Yuuri!” he calls more desperately, yet still nothing comes out.

Yuuri turns and walks away. The only sound heard in the dead-silent arena is his echoing footsteps as his back disappears from Victor’s view, disappears forever.

Victor tries to skate towards him but his skates are submerged in water. The rink is melting, and then it's an ocean swallowing him up. He gets dragged down underneath the waves. He can't see and he can't breathe, but he calls out for Yuuri one last time with everything he has.

～

Victor jolts from his nightmare with a gasp and rapid breaths feeling worse than he did when he first managed to drift off. He's on his back, eyes wide open in fear and wet with overflowing tears. His breath comes in pants as he struggles to regain his bearings.

He hears Yuuri's voice and focuses on it, clinging to it like a lifeline. He's gently shushing him and whispering that it will be okay and that he's right here. Victor's heart rate calms down a bit and he closes his eyes and takes a shaky deep breath. Yuuri runs a soothing hand through his damp hair and wipes at his face with a cool cloth and Victor's next few breaths come easier.

“Bad dream?” Yuuri asks.

Victor gives a sad nod in response, focuses on breathing and keeping any further tears at bay and gestures for Yuuri to bring himself closer despite the overwhelming heat he's feeling.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Victor shakes his head. “No, it's just a dream. It's gone now. I'll be okay.” His voice is unsteady and he doesn't fully believe his own words. Yuuri doesn't seem to either since he pulls Victor into a hug with a sound of sorry sympathy. (Though now that Victor thinks about it, it could just be sympathy at his high fever.) He becomes hyper-aware of the sweltering heat again but bears it for a moment longer, relishing in Yuuri's arms around him. When the heat gets to be too much, he pulls away and Yuuri does too.

Victor looks away from Yuuri in shame and wipes at his tears with the back of his hand. “I used to get really bad fevered dreams, when I lived on my own,” he starts slowly after a moment of silence. “I would wake up sweat-soaked and shivering under the blankets. If I was lucky, I couldn't remember the dream but even then it wasn't much of a comfort. More often than not, I would already be crying when I woke up.”

“What can I do to help?” Yuuri asks with such sincerity it almost hurts. When Victor meets his eyes, he really does feel an affectionate tightness blossom in his chest at the evident concern.

“I don't know if you can,” he admits sadly. “I tried a bunch of methods, but nothing seemed to work. Sleep aids like night time teas or melatonin made it worse since I just ended up sleeping for longer, and any background noises I put on would work their way into my dreams.”

“Oh, Vitya. I'm so sorry,” Yuuri says. Victor can tell he doesn't know what else to say since he fidgets for a moment before changing the subject. “How about you eat something? I can make you some soup with crackers. Are you feeling up to eating?”

“Honestly, not really,” he sighs, “but I know I need the nutrients.”

Yuuri nods. “Are you gonna be alright alone? I don't want to leave in case you have another bad dream…”

“I’m not going back to sleep for a while,” he says. It's both a statement and a decision; he doesn't want to sleep but he probably wouldn't even be able to from how hot he's still feeling. Not to mention that nightmare...

“I'll hurry back, okay?” Yuuri grabs the now-warm face cloth, gives a weak smile that Victor returns, then he leaves the room.

Victor pushes himself to a sitting position and grabs his phone. The first thing he does when he unlocks it is open up Instagram to take a selfie, because why the hell not? If he's going to be suffering, he wants the world to sympathise with him. The photo he takes makes him look miserable. His hair is still disheveled, made even worse now with the added layer of sweat from his nightmare, and the red tinting his cheeks is much more prominent than before, as are the bags under his eyes. He uses a filter to cover up the worst of it, throws on a caption and some hashtags then posts it. His notifications start blowing up immediately after but he closes the app, planning on saving the comments for later.

In the meantime, he opens up YouTube and picks through his “watch later” playlist which mainly consists of skating videos to get inspiration for new routines (since he has already seen every single video of Yuuri's skating the site has to offer). Once he has gone through most of it, about 20 minutes have past. Instagram should be exploding by now. He opens the app and sure enough:

13,927 likes, view all 463 comments

Numerous skaters and die-hard fans alike are wishing him well and hoping for a speedy recover. He smiles at the handful of comments talking about how lucky he is to have Yuuri as his caretaker. Victor couldn't agree more. Even from the bedroom, he can smell the aroma of soup wafting from the kitchen and can hear the light bustle of Yuuri moving around. Victor continues to scroll through and read the comments, hoping Yuuri can finish soon and keep him company.

The next comment catches his eye, and not in a good way: “Being sick is no fun. I hope it's not the flu! Throwing up is the worst. >.< ”

He's certain they meant well but Victor can't help the twinge of anxiety that works its way into his stomach at the thought of something leaving his stomach.

He quickly scrolls past the comment and it disappears. The anxiety still remains and Victor is once again reminded of the sweltering heat his body is radiating and how sweaty and gross he feels.

He closes Instagram, desperate for another distraction. All he really wants is Yuuri. How much longer is it going to take for him to finish cooking? Victor is not even all that hungry anyway. All he wants is Yuuri. Yuuri will hold him and love him and tell him everything will be okay, and Yuuri will make everything okay. Because it's Yuuri, and his voice is soft and his skin is even softer and his fingertips feel like heaven when they weave through Victor’s hair. And Yuuri will mention how pretty and soft it is, even though it feels far from those things right now since it's greasy and gross, just like how Victor looks and how he feels, with an extra helping of miserable thrown on top.

There's moisture on Victor’s face and he realizes he's crying. He doesn't really know why but he doesn't know how to stop it, so he doesn't try to. He's too hot and he's shivering and he's lonely and a mess and it's all too much, so he hangs his head and cries because he doesn't know what else to do.

“Okay, food is reー! Victor? What's wrong?”

Victor looks up and through teary eyes can see Yuuri hastily putting down the prepared meals he brought into the room and moving to comfort Victor. Still an emotional wreck and just wanting Yuuri, Victor holds his arms out and Yuuri rushes to embrace him.

“Shh, shh. It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here,” Yuuri soothes, and Victor lets his walls come down as he sobs onto his shoulder. Victor’s breathing is ragged and Yuuri rubs his back and urges him to breathe, which he does, albeit shakily. “Whatever it is, whatever's hurting you, I'll make it go away. I promise,” Yuuri whispers.

Oh, how Victor needed this, to just be held in Yuuri's arms. To know he's not alone and he is loved. Yuuri's voice is soft and calming as he tells him those two thingsーand many more reassuranceーover and over. It helps, as does the demonstrated inhales and exhales that Victor learns to follow until he is breathing normally again and the tears have finally stopped.

“Did you have another bad dream?” Yuuri asks softly after Victor has calmed down.

“N-no, I,” he sniffles. “I just really don't feel well.”

“Let's get some food in you. And some medicine, okay? That should help,” Yuuri offers. He pulls away with a reluctance that Victor echos, then gets the two soups he placed on the bedside table. “Would you like me to feed you?” he asks. There’s not a single hint of teasing in his voice.

“No, that's okay,” Victor says quickly as he fights a blush. “I want to eat with you.”

Yuuri hands him a bowl with a comforting smile, then moves to sit next to Victor on the bed. He digs into his meal with a quiet “itadakimasu” while Victor just stares at his own.

It smells lovely, it really does, and it looks amazing too. And yet all Victor can do is poke at it with his spoon, stirring small circles into the broth as his stomach protests the thought of food. Yuuri is obviously enjoying the meal though, so it has to be good. He doesn't have to eat all of it, Victor tells himself, and he forces himself to take a bite despite his apprehension.

It is good. Yuuri is a splendid cook (as Victor has had the pleasure of learning on multiple occasions). He takes another few cautious spoonfuls, knowing he will need the nutrients while at the same time trying to enjoy the taste as it washes over his tongue. By the time Yuuri has finished his soup, Victor has gone back to stirring slow circles with his spoon.

“You don't have to eat all of it,” Yuuri tells him.

“I'm sorry. It is good, I promise, I justー” Victor hesitates. Even saying the words makes him anxious. “I just don't feel well,” he settles on.

Yuuri thankfully seems to catch on. “Does your stomach hurt?”

“A little… But I don't feel super nauseous or anything. In fact I'm probably just overthinking it and making myself anxious. I just hate being sick.” His mind suddenly travels back to the similarly-worded comment he read on Instagram. Even now, it still irks him. “Distract me, Yuuri. Distract me from how miserable I feel.”

“How does a tummy rub sound? I can put a movie on?” Yuuri suggests.

Victor nods with a small smile. “I’d like that.”

“Medicine first though. I’ll be right back.” Yuuri takes the two bowls (one empty, the other barely touched) as well as some other dishes and delivers them all to the kitchen.

He returns with both a cup and a bowl of fresh cold water, a new face cloth and an assortment of pills all carried on a tray which he sets down on the bedside table.

He hands the medicine and water to Victor who swallows them without complaint, then he hands Victor some other, more different tablets.

“They're Tums, for your stomach,” Yuuri tells him. “You chew them. There's also ginger ale in the fridge, if you want some.”

“Aww, Yuuri!” Victor says, genuinely touched by the thoughtfulness. “I'm feeling better already!” He flashes a bright smile, the first genuine display of happiness since waking up with his illness. “I still want that tummy rub, though,” he makes sure to add.

“Of course, Vitya,” Yuuri says with a fond chuckle.

Victor consumes the tablets and lays down on the bed with a sigh, closing his eyes. He definitely is feeling better, even if only marginally. He's very certain Yuuri's presence has something to do with it.

He flinches when what feels like ice is draped across his forehead but soon relaxes and embraces the feeling with another deep sigh. His shirt is then lifted up a tad and Victor cracks his eyes open in curiosity to see Yuuri placing his hands over his partially bare and finely-sculpted abdomen.

Yuuri meets his eyes and Victor catches the light embarrassed flush on his round cheeks. “I thought you would prefer it like this, since you're running a fever. Ah! That reminds me!” he suddenly exclaims and reaches for the thermometer. Victor's mouth is open without Yuuri even having to ask and he again holds the device under his tongue. In the meantime, Yuuri's hands return to Victor’s heated skin, lightly tracing the muscles under the shirt as the two once again wait for the beep.

It happens more quickly this time and somehow sounds more alarming, even though it's the exact same sound as the previous time. He sees Yuuri's eyebrows scrunch adorably as he registers the numbers. Although Yuuri's troubled face is cute, Victor figures whatever his temperature is, it's not good. It's likely gone up.

Sure enough, Yuuri tells him his fever has worsened. “You just took some reducers, though, so I'm not too worried, but we should still try and keep you cool,” he remarks. He lifts up the shirt again and tugs it higher to try and get it over Victor’s arms. “Sit up for me? Just a bit?” Yuuri requests.

Victor obliges and Yuuri removes the article of clothing. It does feel nice having his upper body exposed rather than smothered in heat from the shirt. It feels even better when Yuuri's cool fingertips are on him again, gently pushing him back down.

“Relax, and maybe try and get some sleep. I'll be here, okay?” Yuuri says as he begins lightly rubbing Victor’s stomach.

“Mmm. You're so wonderful, Yuuri,” Victor praises with a moan of satisfaction. The combined pressure plus the coolness of the cloth on his forehead and Yuuri's diligent fingers all work like magic, taking Victor’s mind far away from his fevered agony.

Yuuri makes a noise somewhere between an amused laugh and a hum. “Do you still want me to put a movie on?”

“No. Don't need a movie, just need Yuuri.” Exhaustion is creeping into his voice as Yuuri's hands continue to massage him.

“You sound pretty tired,” Yuuri notes. “Do you want to sleep?”

“Scared to sleep. Nightmares,” he mewls. He's struggling to keep his eyes open.

“I'll stay here with you. Would that help?”

“Yuuri always helps,” he mumbles with a tired smile.

“Get some rest,” Yuuri whispers. One of his hands moves to Victor's head where he runs his fingers through his hair. Victor shivers in delight at the feeling and exhales in content, then falls asleep soon after.

～

He's back underwater. From the depths, he sees the lights of the area and can make out the faceless audience in the stands. It's all drifting further and further away as Victor sinks deeper and deeper. He tries to kick his legs and swim up but he's weighed down by his skates.

“Yuuri!” He reaches a hand out upwards towards the diminishing light. Darkness surrounds him as he's pulled down and down.

“Yuuri!” He struggles to swim. Air is scarce. Though he's underwater, he's sure he's crying.

“Yuuri…” His eyes drift closed and his outstretched hand begins to fall.

A hand grasps around his own.

Victor opens his eyes to see Yuuri face to face with him underwater. Victor lets out a gasp, which shouldn't even be possible since he's drowning, but still he does.

Yuuri is there with him and his eyes are so full of love and his face is so full of care and concern and his voice is angelic as it speaks to him: “I'm right here, Vitya.”

Victor is definitely crying now but he doesn't care; the tears aren't from pain this time. He chokes down a sob, still amazed at the fact he can breathe underwater. Then again, breathing has always been easier with Yuuri around.

He jumps onto Yuuri and hugs him with no intention of letting go and Yuuri doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. All the while, Yuuri's voice is whispering softly in his ears, reassuring him and filling his dream with love.

When Victor eventually pulls apart from the embrace, they're no longer underwater. It's just the two of them standing in a grassy field underneath a large, beautiful tree. The sun is shining through the leaves that provide a relaxing canopy of shade.

Yuuri wipes at Victor’s tears with the pad of his thumb and invites them to sit. Victor does and they lie next to each other on their backs on the grass and intertwine their hands.

“Did I ever tell you about my dog?” Yuuri asks out of the blue, and Victor shakes his head. “I named him after you: Victor-chan, or Vicchan for short. That's why my parents called you that.” Yuuri lets out an embarrassed laugh, but it sounds more fond than self-conscious. “I begged my parents to buy me a poodle after seeing an article about you and Makkachin in a magazine. I wasーstill amーkind of obsessed with you.”

This time, Victor is the one who laughs. Yuuri smiles warmly at him and carries on with his story as Victor closes his eyes. Yuuri's words slowly begin to fade, but the melodic sound of his voice remains as Victor takes a deep breath and savours the tranquil air of the space he and Yuuri share.

～

When Victor awakens hours later, it's not with a startle. His eyes flutter open as he slowly comes to consciousness and becomes aware of his surroundings. The room is quiet, the curtains drawn so Victor could rest. Through a crack left open, a sliver of light is let in from outside where the sun is still shining. It’s bright enough to barely illuminate the room.

Victor sits up slowly and stretches, feeling refreshed from the sleep that was for once restful. Upon sitting up, he becomes aware of a weight in his lap. A glance down reveals a mop of thick black hair and he realizes with a surge of fondness that Yuuri has fallen asleep on him. Upon the discovery, Victor carefully settles back down to a horizontal position, moving slowly so as not to wake Yuuri. He stirs a bit as Victor shifts, but remains asleep.

Now that Victor is laying down, he has a better view of Yuuri's face, and since Victor is no longer fighting for sleep, he can fully enjoy Yuuri's expression as he indulges in unconsciousness. His face is serene but far from graceful; there's a bit of drool trailing from one of the corners of his mouth. Victor can't help but stare, so in love. There is no sign of stress on his angelic features. His skin is flawless and so soft that Victor can't help but trace a finger along his face, wiping away at the small trail of drool as he does so. At the touch, Yuuri's brows furrow slightly and Victor freezes, waiting to see if he'll wake.

Tired brown irises emerge and Victor lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Yuuri slowly blinks once, twice, then lets his eyes slip shut again as he mumbles something in quiet Japanese that Victor doesn't quite catch. Just when Victor thinks he's fallen back asleep, Yuuri shoots up to a sitting position so fast Victor is surprised the young skater didn't get whiplash.

“Victor! You're awake! Are you okay? How are you feeling?” Yuuri asks in one rushed breath.

Victor can't help but feel a bit amused at the panic. “I'm feeling much better, Yuuri. I had a wonderful sleep,” he reassures him with a smile.

“Really? No nightmares?” Yuuri asks sounding relieved. His eyes hold exhaustion but it's currently overridden by curiosity.

“Yeah, now that you mention it.” Victor ponders. “I mean, I did have one at first butー” he pauses as he recalls the dream. He remembers the crushing fear he felt and how it all dissipated at the sound of Yuuri's voice. Victor feels a warmth flood his chest and it's likely rushing to his cheeks too. “You made it better. You talked to me. You told me about your dog.” He states the last part almost like a question, unsure if it was all a dream or not.

As Yuuri too blushes, Victor knows it was real. “It's like you said,” Yuuri confirms. “You were having another nightmare and I didn't know what to do. You were calling out for me and even crying, so I just started talking to you. It seemed to help, so I kept on talking until you calmed down. And...even after that, too...” Yuuri trails off, looking away in sheepishness.

It all makes sense to Victor now. Everything Yuuri did in that dreamーholding his hand, wiping away his tears, speaking to himーhe really did it all for Victor in real life, right up until the moment he eventually fell asleep on top of him. How long must Yuuri have stayed up watching over Victor, protecting him from nightmares?

He feels tears of happiness once again prick at the edge of his eyes as he glomps Yuuri with a hug. “Thank you, Yuuri,” he breathes against his neck.

Yuuri tenses at the unexpected action but soon relaxes. “You're welcome, Vitya.” He brings his arms around Victor and returns the embrace. “So you're feeling better then?”

Victor nods. “Much.”

“You still do feel warm, though. Let's take your temperature again,” Yuuri says. He pulls away just enough to press his lips to Victor’s forehead for a moment. “Feels better than before, but we should get a number on it.”

He moves to retrieve the thermometer as Victor fondly traces the spot Yuuri's lips just were.

After a moment of waiting with the thermometer under Victor’s tongue, Yuuri pulls out the device and shows it to Victor with a satisfied expression.

“It seems the fever reducers have worked,” Yuuri notes.

“Mmhm, it was all the fever reducers that made me better,” Victor comments with a playful tone. “Nothing else.”

“Oh, stop,” Yuuri blushes with a bashful smile. “You would have done the same for me.”

“I would have, and I will,” Victor says. “Although hopefully not anytime too soon. As much as I'd love to look after you, Yuuri, I would feel terrible knowing it was me who got you sick in the first place.”

“As long as I have you looking after me, I wouldn't mind,” Yuuri teases with earnest. “But before that, we should get you back to normal. Your fever has gone down some, but it hasn’t broke yet. You should get some more rest. I'll stay with you.”

“You should take a nap with me!” Victor suggest spontaneously. “I mean, you did stay up with me, so I'm sure you're tired. Plus, cuddling with you will help me fall asleep faster!”

“You're ridiculous, you know that?” Yuuri laughs but lies down with Victor nonetheless. He rests his head on Victor’s arm and snuggles in close, placing a hand on his still-bare chest. It's warm, but not uncomfortably so.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” Victor says again. He whispers it softly, staring into Yuuri's deep brown eyes. Despite the rest he had before, Victor can already begin to feel the tendrils of exhaustion dragging him back towards unconsciousness. His eyes slip shut and he soon falls into a peaceful sleep with Yuuri at his side.

～～～

(End)

Translation note: “itadakimasu” is a Japanese phrase said before eating a meal

67 notes · View notes