#sick fix

[kittymaine]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland Characters: Charles Rowland (DCU), Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Crystal Palace (DCU), Niko Sasaki, Night Nurse (DCU) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Sickfic, Case Fic, charles rowland whump, Feelings Realization, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Curses Summary:

While on a case, Charles falls victim to a cursed necklace that causes everyone who touches it to sicken and die. While his friends frantically search for a way to break the curse, a weakening Charles has plenty of time to think about his feelings for his best mate.

[marbl3z]

uh hi-

little bit of an update rq uh, im not doing the best so this is completely self indulgent and very much so just me being sick

also i might do multiple versions of this but at the moment i think diluc is the most front and center in my brain rn so he's first

---

Reader is not feeling good, and diluc comforts them <3

cw:: fluff, pet names, gn reader, cuddling, kisses, he cuddles you and uses his vision to help comfort you. Uhh. Not proof read.

As you awoke you had a bad feeling about today, something was not right. You felt fine, well, for the most part at least. The trauma of waking up has still left its lasting effects on your body, you look around the room wondering if your lover, Diluc has already started his day.

You wrap the blanket tightly around your body, the air was chilly but you figured it was because you just woke up. Faint goosebumps left a trail from your feet to your head, you crawl out of your warm bed, your feet hitting the cold wooden floor causing you to cringe.

You glance at the clock, realizing how early it actually was in the day. You reach over your bed to the clean clothes you've yet to put away and grab a pair of pajama pants, probably Diluc's. You pull them over your shorts tying a neat knot and keeping them snug on your hips. You feel a dull ache in your head, pulling the curtains shut almost debating going back to bed.

It hurt to move your eyes, it was really sudden of a headache too. There was no reason to push through the pain to start today, you had nothing planned. You admitted defeat and just decided to lay down again. You laid your head down onto the soft pillow and you close your eyes and eventually sleep takes you once again.

You awake to a sound in the other room, boots on the wooden floor of the kitchen and a low humming melody accompanying it. The pain you felt earlier is back, but rather than a dull ache it's pounding. You slam your eyes closed, putting your hands on your ears to drown out the noise. You wince in pain as heavy footsteps come closer to the bedroom you're in. With gentle knock, a soft voice calls for you.

"My love? Are you awake?" Diluc stands in the doorway, walking inside of the room and closing the door gently.

"mm." You groan, the migraine much worse.

"what's wrong?" He whispers, placing his hand on yours, pulling you to him. "I'm right here," he hushes your whines of pain, stroking your back gently.

You don't respond with words just gentle whines and groans. Your stomach started to hurt at the same time and it was becoming way too much. Diluc almost freezed as he saw how much pain you were in, picking you up and holding you against his chest, unsure what to do or where to go. He calls for one of your maids, a concerned expression on his face, you fall back asleep to the melody of his racing heart. Too weak to stay awake.

Next time you awoke you were back in bed, a glass of herbal tea and medicine next to it. Diluc was in a chair next to the bed, a novel was next to his sleeping head. You reach over and give him gentle scratches on his scalp. Running your hands through his crimson hair. You felt sicker than you did before, a flash of pain going through your body and you whine curling in on yourself.

Diluc hears your whines, stirring in his sleep before waking up to press his hand on your tummy since you were holding there. He turns your head to bury in the crook of his neck, hushing your whines. His large hand nearly covers your entire stomach, he uses little of his vision power to warm the cramps up, lessening the tension on your muscles.

"I got you, Darling." He coos in your ear, rubbing your tummy and massaging gentle circles onto your back.

Your painful expression dying down a bit once he starts massaging your stomach with his warm hands. You shift back into your spot on the bed, making room for him to join you. he sits up from the chair, pulling the covers over you and holding you against his chest, your face in his neck and his hand on your stomach. Your sleepy eyes struggled to stay open, you wanted to cry but you felt warm and fuzzy. One hand was holding you secured close to him, the other pressed firmly against your tummy.

You snuggled closer to him, turning your head to be hidden underneath him, where the light couldn't make your eyes ache and your head pound. He hums softly, pulling the blanket over you both. He kisses your temple softly, rubbing your back.

"I love you," he whispers.

" 'm love you too, 'Luc.." you mumble sleepily. He smiles, keeping you close.

Eventually you both fall back asleep, the warmth of washing over you both.

-

Yeah, 5 months later I finally get this out.

[fernandopiastri28]

quand c’est - part 5 ~ ln4 x op81

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

Damage? Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. “Will I be able to drive again?” Lando’s voice raises and wobbles, tears he can’t even feel dribbling down his cheeks. He doesn’t want to imagine a life without racing. He’s only just gotten his first win a few months back, he can’t lose it all now.

warnings: major illness, cancer, sickness, brain damage

Lando’s body feels fuzzy- if that’s possible.

Where is he?

He should be in the car, he knows he hasn’t finished the race yet. He still has a chance- he’s doing so well, he’s guaranteed at least 6 points.

So why can’t he move an inch? Why can’t he feel the familiar rumble of the car underneath him? Why can he just see chipping white paint above him for as far as he can see?

“He just- he doesn’t know when to say when, and-and it scares me,” There’s a stammering and choked voice cutting through the painful silence of the room. It’s one he knows just as well as he knows his own.

But right now, everything feels unfamiliar. His hearing feels like an old recorded tape, his teeth feel like they’ve been awkwardly shoved into his mouth, and his body- just isn’t his.

Bile shoots up his throat, and he feels immobilised. He can’t turn his head to cough or vomit it out- it’s like he’s frozen in place. He’s in a hospital, he can figure out that much. There’s an IV in his hand and a drip attached, slow trickles of water making their way into his system.

“Like- he fucking knows he’s unwell- he’s on the brink of death, but he’s too proud to ever accept it,” Who ever it is is clearly on the phone, passionately ranting about someone who Lando can only assume is himself.

Lando should’ve expected that. He let down a whole lot of people in Singapore. Himself- first off, the whole McLaren team- especially Zac and Andrea, all the McLaren fans who’d paid good money to see him race tonight and he’d just bombed it.

Most of all- he knows he has disappointed Oscar.

Maybe that’s who’s talking. “And I- I worry about him, all the fucking time. He never lets himself fully recover from anything. Las Vegas last year- he insisted on going out clubbing like two days later. In Amsterdam when he got that fucking cut on his nose and didn’t let anyone clean him up so now he’s got a permanent scar on his nose.”

Oscar’s still in the car. It must be Jon.

“He just- he won’t let anyone take care of him- even me. I just, I just wish he knew how willing I would be. I would drop anything to make sure he’s alright. Like-” Whoever it is is struggling to speak clearly, their voice stuffy and thick with tears. Lando feels awful, not just his body, but because he knows that this is his own doing.

The voice goes silent for a while, the noise of someone on the other end of the line quietly speaking sounds nothing more than a mumble to Lando. It almost feels like his ears have been stuffed with cotton.

“I’m just worried about him, Logan,” Logan? Why on earth would Logan be out of the car and on the phone. Better yet, why is Jon calling Logan Sargeant?

“Oscar?” Lando’s voice seems foreign, not attached to himself.

“Holy sh- Logan, he’s awake, I’ve gotta go,” Oscar hangs up the phone, rushing to Lando’s side to cling onto the edge of his hospital bed. “Lans,” He whispers, wiping his hand over the brit’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Lando spaces out, Oscar’s face becoming a blurry sight. “Why am I not in the car?”

Oscar looks away, chewing at his bottom lip. He’s being avoidant, trying to think of a way to let Lando down slowly- whatever the reason is.

“You crashed into Fernando.”

“Alonso?”

“No, Gasly.” He replies stone faced, “Of course Alonso,” Oscar’s face softens, a small smile appearing.

Lando grins for a moment, rolling his eyes. It falters when it sinks in what Oscar just said. You crashed into Fernando, not Fernando crashed into you. It was Lando’s fault.

“Why’d I crash? Was it wet out?” Memories of Sochi fill his head, fucking rain ruining his races. “Was there something wrong with the car?” He wants to be logical, and he’s trying to do that the best he can, but it all feels unexplainable. He can’t have crashed, there’s just no way.

“They think that-” Oscar shuts his eyes for a moment, and Lando can properly see his features again. Pale cheeks dusted an angry red, stained with tear drops. Brown eyes, watery and sore. A mess of hair on top of his head, much like how it normally sits after a race. “They think you had a seizure,”

What. The. Fuck.

“A what?” Lando knew what Oscar had said, but it was easier to play dumb, to pretend he didn’t have a clue as to what the younger boy was talking about. It was easier to play pretend.

Lando had never had a seizure before, nor did he have a history of seizures in his family. It just wasn’t possible.

“A seizure,” Fucking thanks Oscar, I did hear you the first time. “They’ve done a few tests on your head so..” Oscar’s tongue prods at the inside of his cheek, like he’s trying to avoid saying something. “They’re just seeing if there was any damage.

Damage? Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. “Will I be able to drive again?” Lando’s voice raises and wobbles, tears he can’t even feel dribbling down his cheeks. He doesn’t want to imagine a life without racing. He’s only just gotten his first win a few months back, he can’t lose it all now.

Oscar sucks on his bottom lip, his teeth poking out on top of it slightly, “Don’t worry Lando,” He reaches over, hugging Lando to his chest tightly, “The doctors are taking good care of you, I’ll take care of you, I promise you will race again,”

Lando has never known Oscar to lie. If Oscar is promising that Lando will race again, Lando will race again.

A bubble forms in Lando’s throat, choking him, “I’m so sorry, Osc,” Oscar’s eyes immediately go wide with panic, unsure as to why Lando’s apologising. “I sh-should’ve listened to you, I’m such a fucking idiot,”

It’s because it’s clicking now- Oscar was complaining to Logan about how he never listens to him. He’s right, Lando is an awful boyfriend who doesn’t know how to fucking take care of himself. They’re supposed to be a couple, yet it’s more like Oscar’s his caretaker, and Lando hates himself for being Oscar in that position.

“Oh, Lans,” His voice is breathy as he drags his fingers along Lando’s cheek, soft and faint. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay, I’m not mad,” He kisses Lando’s forehead, his eyes studying each twitch Lando’s face makes.

Oscar’s not mad, but he’s definitely disappointed.

You stupid fuck, Lando Norris.

“Okay,” His voice halters, a forced response. They both go silent after that, Oscar holding Lando’s right hand in his own, kissing the back of the Brit's hand every so often.

Lando stares up at the ceiling. It’s better than looking at Oscar who just looks so broken and concerned. Lando will only hate himself more and more if he looks at Oscar, looks at who he let down.

“Mr Piastri, Mr Norris,” A doctor announces her presence in the room with a barely there knock on the door. It’s been a few hours of Lando laying and staring at the ceiling, he can only assume based on how it’s beginning to become bright outside. Lando tilts his head up, only then noticing that the pain in his head is almost fully gone.

Being doped up is a good feeling.

“Yes?” Oscar looks towards her, keeping Lando’s hand in his. He licks his lips, holding his breath in anticipation. He knows he needs to stay calm, he needs to stay strong for Lando no matter what the doctor says.

The doctor sucks in a deep breath. She looks no older than 25, which realistically she must be, but she looks only just older than the two boys. She looks like an experienced kid- just as Lando is, just like what he pretends he isn’t. "Mr. Norris, I have some upsetting news,”

Oscar looks at Lando, and Lando doesn;t meet his eyes. He knows that ‘upsetting’ doesn’t even begin to describe whatever he’s about to hear. He’s heard horror stories from acquaintances, he’s watched movies and shows. He knows they’re sugar coating whatever it is.

“So, we were correct- you suffered a tonic-clonic seizure during the race, just as you made contact with..” She trails off, unsure of the name of the driver Lando crashed into. He feels mortified, fucking crashing into the two time world champion of Fernando Alonso. Having a seizure and crashing into Alonso.

“And with the results of your recent MRI- they have detected a mass in the frontal lobe of your brain,” Lando’s eyebrows tighten and Oscar squeezes his hand, grounds him.” And it appears to be malignant,”

Lando doesn’t consider himself a particularly smart guy, and usually, it’s to his disadvantage. Yet, for once, his lack of knowledge for what malignant is means that he gets to stay in that sheltered bubble of nothing is wrong for just a bit longer.

He can pretend nothing is wrong, just for a few moments.

“We have several treatment options, including surgery and chemotherapy, which we can discuss in further detail if you have any questions about them.” Lando feels a tug in his hand, Oscar lurching forward in a sob. It’s bad, malignant must mean it’s bad.

He’s not going to let himself feel it. “Chemo?” Oscar’s voice cracks.

“We fear it has already developed to stage 1 brain cancer,”

Norris's lead is up to 4.5s now with 11 laps to go. Could his 110th grand prix be the occasion of his first victory?

“We are here to support you through every step of this process.”

Norris has finished second eight times and has 15 podiums to his name without winning. Could this finally be the day his luck turns? They're counting down the laps nervously at McLaren.

The door clicks shut and Oscar buries his face into Lando’s chest, “Oh my god Lando, Lans, I’m so sorry,”

Norris's lead ticks past the six seconds mark. Four laps to go and McLaren are practising their best poker faces on the pit wall. Not an inkling of a smile just yet on the face of Zak Brown.

“I love you Lando, I love you and I’m gonna- we’re gonna do this together, you’re gonna get better,”

Three laps to go for Norris. He's under no pressure from behind.

“You’re gonna race again, I promise you,”

Two to go now before F1 has a new race winner.

“You’re gonna win again, we're gonna be on the podium again together,”

Norris is onto his final lap. He can almost push it home from here.

“You’re gonna be a champion, Lans, a world champion,”

Across the line comes Lando Norris to win the 2024 F1 Miami Grand Prix! It's the first grand prix win of his career, and the first for McLaren since Monza 2021, when Daniel Ricciardo hit the top step.

Oscar’s a fucking liar and an idealist. Lando’s not gonna race again, if the brain cancer doesn’t kill him, it’s gonna leave him a shell of the man he once was.

He’s already not the Lando Norris, he’s hardly even Lando.

He’s just sick.

[arinmoss]

Elliott!! :3

[hrokkall]

ULTRATOBER /// FIRST: FAVORITE SOUNDTRACK

[sainz100]

2024 Brazilian GP | x

[duckprintspress]

Urgent: Help Us Not Get Screwed

Anyone who follows us has seen us screaming from the hill-tops about our current crowdfunding campaign for Aether Beyond the Binary (17 aetherpunk stories! Outside the gender binary main characters!). We've only got 50 hours left...and we just got screwed.

Our Anthology Kickstarter is being scammed.

About two hours ago, with us still roughly $1,500 from our goal, we got a junk pledge for almost $2,000. This pushed us into being marked as "funded" but there is zero chance it's a real pledge, it's from a shell account marked as being in Turkey. This kind of money doesn't just fall like a miracle into the laps of small business like ours.

The timing on this attack is devastating. The final 48 hours of a campaign are absolutely critical, especially for one as close to meeting our goal as we are. We were very likely to hit our target, but doing so was going to require appeals to y'all that started with "hey, we're so close, please help spread the word." Further, the campaign has hundreds of followers who will get a notification at the 48 hour mark, and many who might have backed to help get us to the finish line will now think "oh, they're there, they don't need me," and not back. Meanwhile, one of two things will happen with the spam pledge: either it will get removed by Kickstarter, which could take hours or a day+, totally nuking us during this crucial window, or it won't get removed until the payment bounces post-campaign, at which point we won't actually have enough money to do fulfillment.

Either way, we are fucked.

Please, please don't let these dipshits ruin the love and passion that 30+ people have poured into this project for over a year.

Our campaign IS NOT FUNDED, and it won't be without help. I'm begging, help spread the word about how we're getting screwed, and help spread the word about Aether Beyond the Binary (visit the link for so much info!) so that we can get enough real pledges to fund this project we've poured our hearts and souls into.

SUPPORT THE QUEER ANTHOLOGY KICKSTARTER FOR AETHER BEYOND THE BINARY (with your pledges or with signal boosts!)

[soft--dogs]

puppy pool party!

[moonsharky]

RYAN GUZMAN ★ DAMAN OCT/NOV 2024

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki hates black coffee. it's so obvious it's almost painful. the face he makes when it's done brewing, the way it takes him taking a deep breath and chugging the entire thing in one go to finish and the deep, deep sigh he let's out afterwards.

it's obvious, too obvious. you know it, he knows it.

but he insists on drinking it every single day.

every morning he makes it exactly the same and you just cannot understand why. and you're determined to find out.

today you're both off work. it's been happening less frequently and you couldn't be happier to spend time with your man today. he must've been dead tired, because you woke up before him and his alarm, that he has even though he always manages to wake up before it rings, so you sneakily turn it off and escape from his bear like grip to sneak to the kitchen.

like the great, amazing, loving partner you are, you decide to make him breakfast in bed. you know that despite him not liking overly sweet foods, he still likes him some sugar. you make him pancakes like you know he likes, a family recipe you still haven't told him. you know it's a bit petty, but if he found out he'd probably be able to replicate them to a t immediately and you like taking care of him, and you like the feeling that bubbles in your chest when he groans happily when the food hits his tastebuds and he gobbles it up.

your secret stays safe with you for now.

tray in hand and returning to your bedroom, you're surprised but definitely happy to see him still asleep when you're done. you smile, he truly does deserve the rest after all the work he'd done. you place the tray onto your night stand, running your hands over his eyebrows and slowly running over his messed up hair, thumbing at his hairline. his eyebrows slowly furrow as he tries to lean into it, cheek smudged against the pillow.

"baby.." you sing, katsuki grumbles, shoving his head into his pillow.

"katsuki.." you giggle, running your hand over his back to ease him into waking up. he flips around in an instant, raising an arm up and stretching, his other arm reaches for yours. you give it to him, he squeezes your hand and runs his other one through his hair.

"hi.." you chirp sweetly, katsuki grunts in response, squeezing your hand again in greeting.

"..how long've you been up ?" he asks, voice still deep and gruff from just waking up.

"about an hour.." you respond quietly, easily talking and not in a rush for once. katsuki's eyebrows furrow in confusion and his head whips towards his phone, grabbing it and checking his alarm that had been mysteriously turned off. he turns to squint at you and you giggle, he pinches your thigh and mutters out a "dummy.."

he sniffs the air when he registers the smell of pancakes, and his head quickly zips over to the tray you'd placed there for him. his ears turn pink "you didn't have to do this." you notice how he refrains from adding an affectionate insult towards the end of his sentence, you laugh.

"i know, but i wanted to. now eat up before it gets cold !" you grinned. katsuki sighs, a soft smile pulling at his face before he ducks his head, grabbing the tray and placing it in his lap. his eyes close the moment he gets a bite and your heart beats hard against your chest.

"you seem to be enjoying that." you say cheekily.

" 'm gonna get that recipe outta you one day." he vowed, pointing his fork at you, he groans when he gets another bite "so fuckin' good.." he mutters to himself between bites. you chortle.

after swallowing a few bites in silence, katsuki smacks his lips before he talks again "you just gonna watch me eat ?"

"i'm liking this view," you respond, leaning against your hand and sighing dramatically. katsuki rolls his eyes, an unmistakable blush crosses his cheeks before he's beckoning you over with a 'come here' motion, picking a piece of pancake onto his fork and placing a hand underneath the other as he brings it closer to your lips. "open up," he orders, and you do, tasting your work. you hum happily, and he watches you intently as you do. his eyes drift over to the mug still untouched on the nightstand.

a mug of coffee. black.

he frowns almost immediately, you don't need to look away to know why. you see how he tries to fix his face immediately, you assume so as not to hurt your feelings, your heart warms just a bit more. but you can't help but tease him.

"better drink it before it gets cold.." you sing, trying to sound unbothered. katsuki's grunt borders on a whine as he places his tray to the side. he picks up the mug, making sure to scowl at the black liquid inside, he inhales, before gulping it up quickly.

only to stop, eyebrows furrowing curiously at the flavour.

"it's--"

"good ?" you smile knowingly, you lean back a bit, pressing your legs to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs. you swing slightly side to side.

katsuki slowly blinks at you "what d'you.."

"i put some sugar in it." you admit, you see how katsuki's face drops, eyebrows flying to his hairline. "katsuki, we both know you don't like it plain black. i don't see why you can't just have some sugar in it." you shrug "i know you've got your diet, but it won't kill you."

he leans back, shrinking into the headboard like he'd been caught committing a crime. his lips pull up into a frown.

"i know that, that's not the problem.." he downs the rest of his drink and he sighs afterwards, it almost sounds like a sigh of relief. it makes you snort. "then what is ?"

"i dunno..hadn't had it in a while and figured i'd try it again, see if i like it."

"but you clearly don't."

"i'd get used to it then." he shrugs.

"katsuki.." you sigh, "you don't have to, you know. nothin' wrong with a little sugar." you tease. honestly, you found it cute. you know he's stubborn and he doesn't give up, even against his own body. you'd seen it happen multiple times, but with something so simple as black coffee was pretty funny.

you think, maybe, he's trying to be more grown up. you remember he tried black coffee back in high school and hated it so bad it ruined his mood for the entire day. maybe, he thought he should like it now since he's graduated and he's an adult. it was sweet, just like how he liked his coffee. and it was so him. you want him to know he doesn't have to change a thing, he's perfectly okay and adult as he is now, coffee plain or sugary. with cream or without or with a sweet treat from the bakery next door.

"course i know that." he mutters after a while, smacking his lips when the taste of his coffee still lingers on his tongue. he places it and the tray back on the nightstand. he grabs your hand, pulling you closer to have you sit in his lap. "so come give me some." he smirks at your flustered expression. one hand reaches the back of your neck to pull you closer, his other hand at the small of your back for the same purpose.

"you just ate and you still haven't brushed your teeth, mister." you run your finger in circles over his chest. he gets hot quickly in the night so he likes to sleep shirtless, your hand runs over the shape of the scar on his shoulder. katsuki snorts, sharp teeth on display as he smirks.

"so ? you know you always wanna kiss me." and he smirks because he knows he's right. you huff, but lean down to kiss him anyway, muttering a quick "shut up," before silencing him. he snickers against your mouth and it doesn't take him long to deepen the kiss, you squeal when he flips you over, laying you right back in bed.

"thanks for breakfast." he says against your lips, leaning back in before you could respond "you're not gettin' away anymore, though. you're gonna spend the day here with me, where you're supposed to be." he drops onto you and you let out an "oof !" at the pro hero mass dropped onto you. you grip his shoulders as he kisses from your cheek to your ear.

"d'you like breakfast ?" you breathe out.

"you know i did, don't make me say it again." he grunts out, biting your cheek when you giggle "now i'd like to spend some time with my girl." he mumbles against your shoulders, voice muffled. you giggle, bring his head up to press your lips to his again.

and they taste sweet, just how you like them.

taglist (finally!!) if your name is pink i unfortunately couldnt tag you :((( : @napbatata @andysdrafts @queenpiranhadon @jastoo46 @cecelia77

@katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba

@moonshuul @erenstitanweave @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam

@aspiringwriter1111 @sugurusmoon @redvelvetstan1

@niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[pbnmj]

noir fanartists deliberately ignoring how he doesn't need glasses anymore is so funny to me. i hope we all think he's blind as a bat

[sqlatoon]

girls that are sick and in love

[idontwantrobyntodie]

“Oh we’re SUBVERTING the damsel in distress/princess in a tower trope!!” for 100 US dollars, tell me the last time you saw the trope played straight

[vaguely-concerned]

you ever think about how the horrific thing dorian almost had done to him... is exactly the thing iron bull went to the reeducators to beg them to do to him. yeah. me either. for ten years straight now. what the fuck. wanna be my narrative foil dude. we could fuck about it if you're game and single

[lurukifennecfox]

again snippets i won't finish because reasons

Everything was going well which should have been the first clue.

Danny moved to Gotham (Vlad insisted he pay for it and he'd been doing better so he let him have it) he's going to Gotham Academy, he was visiting his old haunt so often people thought Phantom never left! turns out if a ghost is strong enough they can teleport to their haunt and he is strong! even if he never quite got the hang of teleportation aside from returning to his haunt.

[•••]

he must have said something wrong because now the halfa was glaring at him with ectoplasm green eyes, he rolled his eyes.

"c'mon stop with the scary eyes" he said it and winced, shit he sounds like Vlad! wait it's not quite Ecto-green, it's diluted? more Lazarus than pure Ecto... that doesn't look healthy is it why he barely can feel his core??? is he really sustaining on Lazarus Water?!