#so sore and sick and sad for some reason

[michaelenthusiast]

ALL MY LOVE COULD NEVER BRING YOU HOME

[storm-of-feathers]

playing with god by pouring out nyquil and whatever comes out is what i take

[crypticminx]

Hi! I loved ur telling Felix if pregnant fic so could we get a p2? Maby e Felix helping reader a morning sickness. Just fluffy ❤❤

Hi my angel!!! here you go! Xoxo

Pregnancy with Felix ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

AN: part two to my headcanons, very fluffy xoxo

- Felix would grow to be exceedingly close and overbearing of you at all times–all within good reason, of course. You felt incredibly tired? No problem, his usual disorganized bed would be neatly prepped and cozy for you with a cup of tea waiting on his night side table. Morning sickness? He was behind you as you would throw up all of your unpleasant remains from the previous night, holding back your silky hair while he gently circled his palm along your sore arched back in soothing motions

- Felix would favor sleeping in with you even if that foolishly resulted in the ignorant academic missing his first morning class, but you were immensely important to him in comparison to his repetitive lectures. He’d wrap you deeply into his chest, entangling both of your legs and arms to construct some sort of warmth from each of your bare bodies. When you’d finally close your eyes to try and regain your interrupted rest, Felix would slide his hand down to just below your ribs and on your abdomen. Though you were barely showing, he could already feel some sort of connection to what was inside of you and it made him feel affectionately sympathetic. Most of all, it made him cherish you even more and from that moment onward, he was destined to continue to treat you in a way that differentiated him from any other sort of love you had ever received.

- It would be too soon for the two of you to move into Saltburn, a manageable idea Felix came up with on a whim upon the two of you trying to discuss the reality of your soon to be future that included a baby. Felix, who terribly wished he could stay with you to attend to your doting needs at every passing hour of each day, still had his classes to attend. You would carefully decide not to continue any further studies, withdrawing yourself from all your classes. Much to your angry parents dismay as they harshly yelled at you once the whole truth unraveled from your apologetic mouth through the lines of a telephone in an empty hallway. They were far away, convenient enough for you, but hearing their harsh tones of pure disappointment made you mentally feel like you had been hit by a bus; paralyzed with sadness among all your other unwanted hormones. Felix, seeing you shamefully walk back into his room was to the rescue as he tried his best to reassure you. There was nothing more he despised than seeing your pretty little eyes swell with tears that were caused from people who should've been supporting you.

- “Y/n, darling, look at me” he would softly cup your flushed, tear-stained cheeks, “I could pay for your education whenever you'd want me to, y’know?” You only nodded at him, sniffling as you felt yourself trying to keep it together. “In fact,” his dark eyes scanned the room before their full attention was back on you, “what do you say we go get a place together, yeah?”

- Felix was soon to follow in sharing the news with his parents and judging by the huge grin he sported on his gorgeous face after hanging up on the telephone, you knew that their reaction was eons away in contrast to how your folks retaliated. And with everything finally being put into motion, a flat just on the outskirts of where campus was located was hastily granted and approved to you and Felix. “Mum was practically screaming with joy,” Felix admitted as he ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head in the process while his mind painted the image of his mother beaming with delight at the thought of a Catton grandchild.

- You imagined your flat to be cute, cozy and fitting, but this was Felix Catton we were talking about. Opening the doors after receiving the keys to your shared place, you were stunned at how breathtakingly modern and posh the interior was. A large living room accompanied with what seemed to be an extraordinarily comfortable sofa, marble stained countertops in a kitchen that was larger than your previous dorm room all topped together with 4 exquisite bedrooms. It was a strange feeling, not unsettling, but very downright gracious as you could see everything playing out as if it were a movie. Candles would be lit on the dining table, the mouth watering smell of dinner you just prepared would be flowing in the air, and there would be an eager infant placed on your hip waiting to be fed. As you’re about to feed your young, Felix would walk in, looking exhausted from a tiresome day, but happy to see the two most important people in his life.

- “So?” he would interrupt your thoughts as he could see you relishing the moment. “I love it,” you would breathlessly vow before Felix could only respond by lifting you off of your feet and cautiously twirling you around the hardwood floors of your flat.

- As the months would slowly start to progress and evolve into life with Felix, you felt at ease for once and being able to have time granted to you allowed you to focus on yourself and your pregnancy, making everything less complicated. You could take any given moment to rest and let your body prepare itself for your child. Felix would do everything in his strong willed nature to find the best doctors for you, being in attendance for every appointment with you, and always kept himself in line for having access to all of your desires.

- Changes–lots and lots of changes. Watching your stomach slowly swell outwards was fascinating and you had accompanied a new profound sense of gratefulness for yourself. Most of the girls your age would probably die if they had to say goodbye to their wardrobe of short skirts and tube tops, but that didn't matter to you anymore, what did was your baby. Felix, on the other hand, was constantly in a state of awe whenever he was around you. His protective hands were always placed on your bump, caressing it with the utmost care possible, all while extensively praising you. “So so beautiful seeing you like this, my darling,” he'd gently whisper in your ear as you laid on top of his lean body, enjoying the spell he'd put you under that was his touch. “Carrying my baby,” he hushed, kissing the top of your head, his fingers unable to stop themselves from stroking one of your sensitive breasts. “You're only going to get more beautiful.”

- With all the happiness, there were also many challenges that you faced. Feeling extremely emotional more days than others, it was mainly the rare moments that Felix wasn't home or around to embrace you with his devoted presence that made you feel like you were missing out on a chunk of events that you should've been at. Felix rushing in after a late lecture that took more of his daunting time than it should have, he swung by you, only giving you a quick pat of a kiss on your forehead, before he rummaged his tote bag of schoolwork away on an empty counter. “You're in a rush,” you observed as he changed his button down into something that seemed far more relaxed and calm. “Uh yeah,” he hurriedly spat, focussing more on fixing himself up, “Oliver and I were gonna head to the pub with a few of the guys, celebratory post midterm drinks and all that.'' Oh, you tried your hardest not to sound letdown by the fact that you would probably spend the majority of the night alone on the sofa continuing to read a catalog you had zero interest in. Felix wanted to hurdle himself to the front door, but feeling tension in the air that was so strong he could cut it with a knife, he paused and glanced at your face that was slowly becoming struck with sorrow. In response, he slowly padded his feet towards you. “What's wrong?” His tone was relaxed and not full of distraction. You sighed, feeling guilty for stopping him in his tracks, “I just feel like I've been missing out on everything,” you found your mind speaking out loud, too late in stopping yourself from speaking the truth. “I miss going out with you, being carefree and reckless,” you pouted, feeling like a fussy child. “Oh, sweetheart,” he took a seat beside you, “I can assure you’re not missing anything, in fact, I'd rather be with you all the time.” it was true, Felix didn't care for his past ways, he was more occupied in his life with you and he'd never trade that for any sleazy party. He rested a loving hand on your stomach, “this is far more important to me.”

- Felix’s favorite pastime hobby with you would be picking out names for your little one. Dressed in nothing but cozy knee high socks and an oversized T-shirt, courtesy of Felix, you would lay a journal just above your bump as your attentive ears would listen to all the ideas sprouting from Felix, smiling as his quick mind came up with more suggestions. “Genevieve for a girl?” he gave you a weary smile, not feeling too confident. “It's beautiful, but too posh and old, no? He chuckled, “mum would have a field day with that one,” he exaggerated his expression, raising his pierced eyebrow before rolling his smitten eyes. “So that's a no, I presume,” you giggled as you crossed it out with your pen.

- Your shared moments that were filled with ambience of love were your favorite times. Soaking every ounce of alone time you could get with Felix because before you knew it, the simple times would turn into long sleepless nights—and not the ones you favored the most with him. Felix would run a bath filled with relaxing salts for you to lay in as he would wash your locks and all parts of your body for you, letting his hands do the work as your head would tilt back in ease, letting all your soreness peacefully exit. The moments spent in bed mainly included Felix resting his head on your bump, freely talking to your child as his voice carried you to sleep. “I love you and your mum so much,” he kissed your bare skin with his soft lips, hoping not to stir you out of sleep, “daddy cannot wait to meet you.”

[heliza24]

Complicated Thoughts on Daniel's Turning (or, in defense of disabled vampires)

So I have complicated feelings about Daniel’s turning. The way I feel about it changes every day. Sometimes I don’t mind it, but some days, on days like today when I’ve dealt with a bunch of other ableist bullshit out in the real world, I kind of hate it. Or at least I think I might, depending on how season 3 pans out.

One of the first reasons I fell in love with the show was its inclusion of a disabled character as the main audience surrogate. I’ve already written a lot about what good disabled representation Daniel is, and how including a sick character serves as a foil for the bodily transformation vampires experience and adds to the story. So many of the show’s themes of immortality and grief are thrown into high relief by the inclusion of Daniel as a disabled/chronically ill man.

Interview with the Vampire is a show about trauma and grief, and I found it especially exciting that the show’s refusal to pull any punches extended to addressing the pandemic. The pandemic is a huge source of loss, trauma and grief, especially for disabled people, and Hollywood’s response to that has been to memory hole it as quickly as possible. Most shows, artists and viewers find it too painful to delve back into these sore spots. But Interview with Vampire can’t do that, because the main plot of the show is about a character being “protected” from trauma by having his memories removed. This is a show that wants us to confront our grief in our pain and learn how to move through it.

So you can see how Daniel showing up as a vampire in the very last minutes of season two was a little jarring and initially upsetting to me. Gone are all of those complex explorations of illness and trauma and instead Daniel is almost a completely different character. The fact that this was dropped as basically a tease for the next season, like a Marvel post credits sequence, was what really bothered me. This incredibly important transformation was reduced to a punch line at worst and a “coming next on” at best.

There are a lot of unfortunate tropes that get used almost every time an able bodied writer decides to include a disabled character (and let’s be real, they are always able bodied, because disabled writers do not get hired to show run). One of the most common is the “magical cure“. This happens in almost every example of speculative fiction that includes a disabled character that I can think of. It means that disabled characters are effectively written out of almost every fantasy and science fiction story. There are a lot of problems with this trope. It tells disabled people that they don’t deserve stories that include magic or adventure. It takes away opportunities from disabled actors and means that able bodied actors are cast, and then instructed to “crip up” for the scenes that take place before their cure arrives. (I love Eric’s performance, but it’s not lost on me that he’s an able bodied actor playing a disabled character). There’s the fact that cures are very rarely complete, and most disabled people live in a halfway world of having some access and some treatment that is effective, while they still deal with the physical pain or exclusion that being disabled brings. And there’s no reason that this in betweenness would not extend to treatment available in speculative worlds. Perhaps the worst part of this trope is that it bends to able bodied peoples’ discomfort around this ambiguity. Chronic pain and inaccessibility and reliance on care is sad and scary to a lot of people, and they’d rather not see it. And because of that, they lose out on an opportunity to explore all sorts of themes that only disabled characters can really unlock. Themes about the body, about metamorphosis, about community, and about a hundred other things that us crips understand in a way that someone outside our bodies cannot see in the same way.

So the way that Daniel was presented at the very end of season two was as a complete and total magical cure. He doesn’t have to worry about pandemic anymore, his movement seems a lot easier, and he’s immortal now.

If the show moves forward in this way, without digging deeper into Daniel‘s transformation and perhaps re-examining some vampire lore, it’s going to end up sacrificing some of the themes that made season one and two so great. And it’s going to make me very upset.

However, I think there’s a lot of opportunity for the show to explore Daniel’s transformation with sensitivity and depth. I haven’t talked about Armand yet in this meta, but I love him and I love shipping him with Daniel. My love for Devil’s minion is perhaps the one reason I wasn’t purely angry about Daniel being turned in the way that he was; I do appreciated the way it sets up the show to explore their complicated dynamic. In particular, I’m fascinated by the fact that Armand not only violated his own personal vow never to turn someone, but also violated the great laws when doing so. Daniel breaks the laws in just about every way – he’s written about the history of the vampires, he knows the vampires true identity and has been allowed to live, etc. But the biggest violation is that Daniel is “crippled“ when he’s turned. Now I’ve already written about the way the vampire coven and the great laws espouse eugenics, and I think the show makes it pretty clear that these laws are harmful. The greatest tragedy of the show is Claudia‘s murder. She was killed because according to the coven, she was turned too young. This early turning really had no tangible negative impact on her life as a vampire except in the way that other vampires perceived her. The consequences were all imposed by the coven, who saw her body as wrong and unacceptable. In show canon Armand was also turned when he was sick. Specifically, he had some kind of wasting disease, then made him lose muscle and feel weaker as he came closer to dying. I’ve always maintained the part of the reason that Armand comes down so hard on Claudia is because he projects his own insecurities and weaknesses on her. If he doesn’t eliminate her, someone might recognize how similar they are and question Armand‘s power and authority.

I wonder how much older Daniel’s Parkinson’s reminds Armand of his wasting disease. I wonder if the fact that their vampire eyes are the same color makes Armand think about how similar they are, and about how they are both violators of the Great Laws. I wonder if they ever talk about the ableism inherent in vampire society. I wonder if Armand worries that his transformation of Daniel will be incomplete or botched, because he’s never made one before and because why would there be a prohibition against turning disabled people if there weren’t potential negative consequences? I wonder if sometimes Daniel feels conflicted about leaving behind a body that caused him pain but also shaped him into the person he is, the person that Armand fell in love with (fell in love with again?). I wonder if the show will explore any of these questions with the depth the deserve, or if it will lean fully into a quick and tidy magical cure for Daniel. I really, really hope they do the conversations around Daniel’s turning justice. Because I think in the right hands, a script that explores these issues could be transcendent. These are all themes that the show has already been exploring, and it would be a downright shame to fumble the opportunity to deepen the storytelling around bodily difference, eugenics, grief and change at the final hurdle.

If I were writing on the show, I would lobby hard to have Daniel still retain some symptoms of Parkinson’s even after he’s turned. I know that Daniel will be an unusually powerful fledgling, because he’s Armand‘s only and Armand is very powerful and old. But disability does not preclude power. Daniel should have extraordinary vampire instincts, and power – we’ve already seen him master long distance telepathy quite early, and he could have access to other gifts as a young vampire too. But he could be doing all those things while still sometimes having tremors or fatigue or experiencing the ghosts of old pain. What an interesting way to add complexity to a loud and brash new fledgling.

In general, I want to make the case for disabled vampires. Anne Rice was immensely talented but also immensely ableist. But that doesn’t mean we have to be too. We can take her world and make it more colorful and diverse, just as the show has already begun to do. And let me tell you, there is no group of people more prepared to become vampires than disabled people. We’ve already had to adapt to bodies that act in unruly ways. We’ve already had to cope with being outcasts in society. And those of us with chronic pain (I include myself here) have a more similar relationship to pain and bodies to vampires than to most other humans. Vampires spend a lot of time being afraid of pain; since they are immortal, it’s the next biggest threat after death. Not a lot of people experience pain in this way, as totally separate from a mortal threat on their life. But I do, because even on days when I am in blinding, horrendous pain, it is in no danger of killing me. Its only consequence is the toll it takes on my mind and spirit. Honestly, I don’t think there’s anyone more prepared to weather the uncertainty and the pain and the brutality of living forever than disabled people. And I would absolutely love to see a disabled vampire in action on my screen.

As we move into season three, and into Lestat’s rockstar career, we’re going to necessarily leave behind the world that is still concerned about the pandemic. Rock venues and musicians in the real world have abandoned any kind of Covid precautions and no longer care if their concerts are super spreaders. Lestat doesn’t strike me as someone particularly concerned with the health of mortals, so I’m sure he’ll be the same. So I hope in order to balance that out, the show does make a deliberate attempt to continue exploring disability through Daniel. I guess they might also weave the pandemic into the Great Convergence and whatever they’ve got cooking for Those Who Must Be Kept since those things were mentioned together and season one, and I would also be excited to see that.

In the meantime, I’m going to be writing a fic that explores Daniel’s turning in a way that delves into all of the questions I asked earlier about the intersections of disability, eugenics, and vampirism. I would love if you read the first chapter and subscribed. I would also love if you included disability in your discussions about the show, and especially about baby vamp Daniel. I can only hope that the writers will follow our example!

[howlingday]

Prompt Idea: Pyrrha is feeling real sad and her teammates find her so they decide to lay down on the grass with her to help her feel better. (It works)

"Haaah..."

"Everything okay, Pyrrha?"

"It's nothing." It was a lot of things. The recent flux of difficult assignments as a result of their graduation from first years to second. The fact Jaune was still hesitant to kiss her after they'd made themselves official. Her occasional flashbacks to that night of the Vytal Tournament. She was lucky to survive, if only with the help of her sister team's leader having a magical trump card to scare off Cinder Fall, who was still out there. In a way, it was all those things. "I promise."

"You'd even give your word on it?" Jaune asked with a raised brow. Damn! Caught! She could lie and give her word, but she saw angry Jaune got when Cardin broke his word when he started messing with Ruby. She didn't want that. At least not directed at her. "Pyrrha?"

"I... can't. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, Pyrrha. We're here for you." Looking across the room where Ren sat on his bed. "All of us. Right, Ren?"

"Yes." He nodded. "And Nora would agree if she were here."

"If who was what?" Nora entered, carrying a basket and a large blanket. "Sorry, I was busy planning a surprise!"

"Is the surprise a picnic?" Jaune asked.

"Well, since you spoiled it," she dropped the heavier than they look items onto him, making their leader sink into his bed, "YOU get to plan it!"

"A picnic doesn't sound like a bad idea." Ren looked to Pyrrha. "Maybe some fresh air will help you feel better."

"Oh, are you sick, Pyrrha?" Nora began lifting Pyrrha's arms, gently tugging at fingers as she did. "You didn't break anything, did you?"

"No, Nora." Pyrrha chuckled. "And maybe you're right, Ren. Maybe a picnic would help me."

--------------------------------------------------

It did not help at all. If anything, Pyrrha felt worse than before because now she was itchy and picking bugs out of places she never had before! She and Nora had to check each other's more "intimate" parts, same with Ren and Jaune, and Nora was probably a lot more rough than Ren or Jaune were to each other.

And if ticks weren't the worst of it, the discovery of ringworm on the soles of their feet definitely filled that gap. Everyone's feet were so itchy, it was one of the few times she was grateful to still have her connections from her competitive days. Same-day delivery to the rescue, as Nora put it.

"Never again! Never again!" The pink girl shouted as she scratched a bug bite that wouldn't go away. "There's a reason kids don't touch grass anymore!"

"It's not that bad." Ren said. "Just don't think about it." He sat quietly for a moment before reaching to his arm. His other hand slapped it away, unwittingly striking where a bug bite was located. He started rubbing his sore hand, then scratching it.

"Well, bug bites aside," Jaune came in from the bathroom, new set of clothing on, "I'd say it was a pretty good day."

"Really?" His team asked in unison.

"Uh, well, we had fun until the bugs, right?"

"And the itching?" Ren asked, moving from scratching his hand to scratching his arm.

"And the bugs on my-"

"Yeah!" Jaune held out his hands, shutting his eyes and looking away. "Yeah, all of that." He opened his eyes to see Pyrrha looking at him. "Did you have fun, Pyrrha?"

"I... I did." She nodded. "And while I won't say I'm going to look back on this part of the experience with fond memories, it was nice to sit in the grass with you." He returned the smile she gave him.

"I'm gonna take the laundry downstairs." He explained as he walked past the self-scratching Ren and Nora and pulled the soap from the closet. "Anyone mind keeping me company?"

"I don't mind at all." Pyrrha slid off her bed. "Especially since this is partly my fault."

"Partly?" Nora asked with a quirked brow. She received narrowed brows in return. "Okay, yeah, partly."

"Nobody blames you, Pyrrha. If anyone should be blamed, it should be me for planning this picnic thing."

"Wait, didn't Nora-" Ren was hushed by Nora, who slapped her hands over his mouth.

"Yup! Jaune did it!" She exclaimed. She then flinched as Ren grabbed her wrists, right on her bug bite.

"I grew up pretty close to a field. I should've known better."

"That's very sweet of you to say, Jaune, but it was my... slump that drove us out there."

"Actually, it was the bullhead pilot who drove us." Jaune corrected. "And we were already planning to go outside for a while. We've been cooped up, dealing with all our homework, so I brought up the idea that we should have a day out to Nora and she went grabbed everything for the trip. Right, Nora?"

The girl didn't respond as she and Ren had engaged in an odd game that took the term 'scratching my back' too literally. Her fingers dug into Ren's back while the long-haired boy began scraping up and down her sides, sliding to below her beltline. They both made uncomfortable to hear sounds for the official couple.

"Uh, so, laundry?" Pyrrha asked with a blush.

"Yeah, and maybe some cold water for these two." Jaune mumbled as he took hold of the laundry basket.

"Oh, and Jaune?"

"Yeah, Pyr-" She pressed her lips to his, following her as she pulled away. "Th-Thanks, Pyrrha."

"You're welcome, Jaune."

All in all, it was a pretty good day.

[fatuismooches]

I've been brainrotting about reverse comfort and sickfics a lot recently. There are HCs about harbingers taking care of sick reader, we can do the same for them😤

In my imagination, excluding Scara for obvious reason, harbingers are separated into 3 groups when sick:

1. Compliant ones. They understand they can't get any of their work done when sick and will calmly rest until full recovery

Capitano - he's reasonable enough to understand he can't get any of field work done when sick, so he'll patiently wait for recovery. He advises you not to spend too much time around him, fearing you'll get sick, but you insist on taking care of him. Capitano won't express it, but he's so grateful

Columbina - she's so sad bc her throat is sore and she can't sing😔 But she takes this as opportunity to rest well and take a lot of naps with you taking care of her🥺 Even when healthy she's very affectionate, but when she's sick it's x10! I hope reader doesn't forget to wear a mask in all of scenarios

(Platonic) Pulchinella - he's way behind rebellious era, as an old man he knows that going around when sick won't do any good for anyone. Like Capitano, he insists that you shouldn't spend your time around it, but not only so you won't get sick, but bc you're young - there are better ways to spend time as a youngster than caring for an old man, especially since he knows how to handle himself

La Signora - her pyro magic will be a death to her when sick😔 she feels like she's boiling in her skin so even if she wanted to disobey reader and work, she couldn't and she feels so so weak;; Signora needs not only medicine, but good amount of comfort too😞

Pantalone - initially, I thought about putting him in group of rebellious ones, but then I gave it more thought... I think Panta has very good immune system, so when he gets sick it hits him like a truck. Like Signora, even if he wanted to work, he physically can't. And getting sick brings Pantalone back to times, when he couldn't afford any medicine ;; Memories hit him harder, than fever does so please distract him from them

2. 50/50. Stubborn, you'll need to convince them to rest, they might complain, but eventually give up

Arlecchino - I see her as a person, who doesn't want to seem weak in Reader's eyes, plus someone has to run orphanage, so she'll stay on her feet for as long as she can. You'll have to forcefully drag her to rest, she will protest. Just tell Arlie that she will get kids sick and that's a much more worse problem than spending a week bedridden and she'll give up. While she's sick, you're the one who watches over Heart of the Hearth

Tartaglia - he's restless. Insists he's fine, but you look at his red cheeks, glassy eyes and order him to rest, making sure he doesn't escape to do field work or something else in cold of Snezhnaya, like fishing, so you'll have to keep him entertained while he's bedridden. I think Childe actually can recover quickly and doesn't feel that bad, unlike Signora or Pantalone

3. The "I'll to tie you up if you don't go back to bed right now!!" group, enough said

Pierro - why he's here? Well, I think as a Director of the Fatui he has lots and LOTS of work matters to attend to, so it'll take you lots of convincing to get him to rest, bc as soon as you try to, some fatui underlings fill a report on Dottore for threatening them, Pierro also has to attend meeting with harbingers today and make sure it goes smoothly, then he has to get through reports of fatui agents from all over the seven nations... Old man, please, your fever is so high that you read the first page of report for the 4th time already. Fatui won't fall apart if you lay in bed and rest for a week, trust me

Dottore - I'm not sure IF he can get sick, Dottore probably modified his body to avoid this but for the sake of headcanon, let's say he can. He just gulps some pills and continues his experiments. Imagine the following scene - fatui underlings, who work in constant fear of upsetting their harbinger, see reader scolding Dottore for not only not eating and sleeping properly, but also for working while sick - all without a single shred of fear😨. Dottore brushes it off and says he'll just inject medicine and will be okay in no time but you want to hear none of this. Off to bed you go! Dottore will escape from your grasp to check on his experiments though...

Sandrone - like you wrote in bathing HCs - get her own automatons to work against her! No, Sandrone, your projects can wait. You can't focus properly! Now say "aaah", I promise this medicine is not bitter. But as soon as you fall asleep, she will try to get back to her projects, but since you got her automatons to cooperate with you, they will stop her, waking you up in process. No, young lady, I'm not letting you work until you recover and that's final!

HOLY IM CARESSING THIS SO DEARLY WTF I LOVE THEM ALL DEARLY😭😭😭🥺 I will take care of ALL of them 😤😤

Ah Capitano,, the bb. The idea of that huge deadly man becoming sick is kinda funny to me. You probably didn't even know it was possible at first. But you easily recognize the signs and order him to stay in bed (he is surprisingly compliant but he turns to mush around you in general, also he trusts your human advice very much since he's unaware of these things) Gosh and since he's afraid of hurting you in generally he'd be scared of making you sick too :( Even after you insist you'll be fine he comments on your safety every now and then. To which you reply he'll have to worry about his own safety if he keeps this up. (He doesn't understand you're jokingly threatening him.)

COLUMBINA NOOOO BABY GIRL... It feels so quiet without her lovely voice :( You miss her singing dearly but Bina promises to sing you her latest tune as soon as she's better! Make sure to brew her some nice soothing hot tea. And oh she's so shamelessly clingy. Neither of you is leaving her room!! She wants you to take care of and pamper her so much, comb her hair for her and choose her outfits, nurse her back to health. And also explain to Pierro why she's slacking on her duties <3 (Yup make sure to take precautions otherwise they'll be taking care of you next 😭)

WAHHH PAPANELLA MY HEART- He's a reasonable man, he can easily understand his situation and the consequences of what would happen if he tried to fight it (he probably did in his younger years) so he doesn't object to bed rest. Papanella knows it's really boring and you could be doing more productive things, but he's glad when you decide to stay ;( He's so happy he has such a good-natured child around, not many people are as kind as you nowadays. He'll happily go on about his younger days even though he's supposed to be resting, he still wants to keep you happy and entertained 🥺 (He just loves talking to you in general, he loves when you listen so intently)

Oh Signora, she's so vulnerable right now, even her Cryo Delusion is of no help :( She can't remember the last time she got sick and she completely hates it. She's a very independent and strong woman so she loathes the feeling of powerlessness,,, when she's under the weather you're the only person she wants to see, otherwise she'll get irritated. Make sure to tuck her in and stay by her side as she sleeps, she doesn't want to wake up to you not by her side. Also cook her some homemade soups and stews from Mondstadt, she'll internally get a bit emotional.

STOP IM DISINTEGRATING AT PANTALONE'S... He definitely has a really strong immune system from all he went through as a child. So he hasn't gotten sick in a while so when he finally does he's just like. Oh. And he tries not to let anyone know/see because he really hates this feeling since it's coupled with a lot of bad memories from his childhood. From when he had no one to take care of him. No one who cared. Still having to work to survive. Wondering if he'd be the next to succumb to illness like the many others he'd seen. Pantalone gets oddly quiet when he's sick so you'll have to talk a lot to distract him :( He appreciates it more than he lets on though - having someone genuinely love and take care of him during this is something he's always wanted since he was a child.

Oh Arlie bb... you don't need to keep up your walls in front of your lover :( I agree, she always tries to appear calm and composed to you, she doesn't want you to worry about her. So she acts as though she's completely fine. And since she's good at pretending you don't notice her fatigue until a few days later (even she can't hide from you forever, you know her better than everyone) and immediately you try to convince her to just rest. Arlie will try to deflect and deny your accusations until you wear her down with your arguments. In the end she has to accept your logic (and also the fact that seeing you upset because of her hurts her more than she liked to admit.)

Childe is always the one taking care of his family when they're sick, so when he finds himself as the sick one he is surprised and tries to ignore it. He's tough, he can handle it! He's been through way worse battles and survived! You will have to block the entrance to the door physically and push him to bed, which he'll resist and whine at first, but in the end, he won't say no to you. I don't know, use some reverse logic against him too. Ask him if he'd want to fight someone who's not in tip-top shape. No? It wouldn't be satisfying? Okay, then don't put your enemies through that! He has a soft spot for being pampered once in a while, so read him some stories and steal his recipes please :)

OH GOD Getting Pierro to rest is one of the hardest things you can put yourself through 😭 He's so swamped with all kinds of work, he stays in the same seat sorting through paperwork for hours on end. You swear the only break he takes is when you barge into his office to bother him to take a break! (Along with a meal because he NEEDS that despite denying it...) I don't know, you'll have to be a bit creative... steal his pens I guess? Either way, when you finally get him in bed, barricade the doors. Please relax Pierro, the Fatui is full of very questionable characters but they're capable at least. They won't die without you!

Ahaha Akademiya Dottore definitely got himself sick at least, whether it was from nonstop experimenting or from some unknown plant in the forest he got into contact with. He was hella grouchy but he was still physically human here so he had no choice but to listen to you begrudgingly. I bet he was giving you instructions on the next steps for his experiment while sick in bed (he's a silly guy.) For Fatui Dottore he definitely completely ignores his physical state and just downs some medicine and injections and continues on like nothing is wrong 😭 The Fatui soldiers are in tears while the clones are just like another normal day at your scolding. You won't be able to get this crazy man to rest fully but it's better than nothing right? Just try to stay awake as long as possible because he'll slip away once you're sleeping.

SANDRONE MY BELOVED!! Ahhh i will always be in love with the idea of the Automatons that SHE made working against HER because of YOU. Like, I'm your creator, you shouldn't be disobeying me! Too bad that some of them developed feelings and love seeing you with her :3 and will happily assist you with your desires. Sandrone will try to escape, but she knows better than anyone the strength of her Automatons. So after seeing how fruitless her attempts are she will eventually have to comply with you and stay in bed (maybe bring her something mechanical to do in bed 😭 she's really bored) At least now she will be a little more attentive to her condition now that she knows you are going to do this to her.

Since I'm biased I'm throwing in modern! Scara where he's not a puppet :3 I can see him being a mix of group 2 and 3 since he refuses to admit he's sick and just tries to keep pushing himself. Ignoring your pleas. He still hates appearing to be weak, especially in front of you. Though once you finally, finally get him to stay in bed he probably gets all clingy and demanding for you to stay by his side. He wants your attention on him so bad :( Please feed him some soup and stay by his side as he rants and then falls asleep <3

I feel like all of the Harbingers are super resistant to viruses and such, I wouldn't be surprised if they're even immune to different kinds of poison. So I think the main way of them getting sick would be overworking themselves along with added stress 😭 which honestly happens to all of them- please make sure to pull them away from their desks for a nap and cuddles every now and then 💞

[infiniteimaginings]

Training and Realization (Naruto Uzumaki x Male!Reader)

Summary: Naruto is feeling conflicted because he thinks he likes you, but is sure it's just a mix up, because he likes Sakura. Right? He realizes the truth during a training session, and he just knows he has to get to you. Pronouns: You/Yours, He/Him Warnings: None Word Count: 3.1k Request: Little Naruto Uzumaki feeling confused because he thinks he is in love with his male best friend but he insists that he likes Sakura, during his training with Jiraiya he realizes that who He truly loves is his mbf and in Naruto Shippuden he confesses. With a happy ending please 🙏 A/N: Requested by @teamavatar13 ! I haven't watched Naruto in a minute so I hope my memory of his attitude proved well.

Naruto was acting strange. 

Well, if you were to ask anyone he was around, they would say he seemed perfectly fine. He was his cheerful self, always encouraging his friends to push themselves, asking to go out for dinner, or to just overall be together. He was optimistic, playful, and with a typical high energy.

The only person who thought Naruto was acting weird, was Naruto himself. He was sure since he noticed it, everyone else noticed as well, they had to! They didn’t.

Why was he acting so strangely? That’s the question he kept asking himself. Was he overworking? His training sessions didn’t seem to shift in difficulty recently, and he still had the energy to do any other tasks like usual. It couldn’t be that he was overworking himself, his friends would notice that. Did he eat something bad? This didn’t feel like some sort of food poisoning or just bad ramen, it definitely wasn’t bad ramen because there’s never bad ramen.

If there was nothing wrong with him, why did he feel his heart pounding through his chest, why could he hear it so prominently in his ears? His whole body felt hot, he almost wanted to pass out. His stomach felt weird, like it was shifting, or just moving, he felt sick. 

Everytime he would have such symptoms, he would look to meet your eyes. When you noticed his gaze, you would look over. For someone who has the symptoms of an illness, he didn’t look very sick.

Naruto would quickly look away, trying to find anything to distract him. His face felt even hotter after the sudden eye contact and his hands would begin to fidget, why was he fidgeting? Why did he suddenly feel nerves shooting up his body? Why is it always with you?

You chuckled when Naruto looked away and shook your head, “We’re still waiting for Sakura, I really don’t know why she’s late.” You suddenly spoke, putting your arm around Naruto to pull him in a bit, “So, don’t look so sad.” You told him, pulling at his cheek gently with a teasing smile.

The two of you were sitting on the floor on one of the walls across from the famous ramen place, ‘famous’ because it was the only place you guys really ate anymore. It was going to be you, Naruto, and Sakura meeting up after training and tasks, but Sakura was keeping you both waiting.

Naturo groaned and pulled your hand off his cheek but he smiled when he rubbed at the sore area. “I’m not sad!” He defended, unconsciously leaning into your side, “I’m just hungry.” He excused, unsure if that was the true reason.

“You’re always hungry.” An annoyed voice called out from in front of the two.

You looked up lazily, arm still around Naruto's shoulder, your body nearly hunched over. “You’re late.”

“I was helping villagers.” Sakura explained with a playful roll of her eyes, crossing her arms. “If you guys were so hungry you could’ve just gotten your first bowls, you know you would’ve gotten more anyways.” She expressed, moving a bit of her hair out of her face.

With a sigh you stood up, hands in your pockets. “Little Naruto wanted everyone to be here first.” You teased, walking into the ramen restaurant, not giving the other two a chance to continue the conversation. 

Sakura stuck her tongue out at your back, “He’s such a jerk.” She mumbled with a small smile, looking back at Naruto who was still sitting. “Come on, we’ll get you two bowls to start with!” She told him with a gentle smile, holding out her hand to the blonde.

Naruto didn’t realize he had been staring at your retreating figure until Sakura's hand reached out to him, blocking his view. He shook his head gently to focus and took hold of Sakura for assistance before letting go, following you in. He put a skip in his step before grinning, “I’ll keep you to that promise Sakura!” He yelled out before rushing inside, finding a seat near you.

Sakura tilted her head at the sudden energy boost from her friend. It wasn’t unusual for him to be excited about such a thing, but it wasn’t usual for him to just drop her hand immediately. She wasn’t necessarily upset with it, but she still found it strange. If she were to do that any other time, Naruto would’ve squeezed her hand, or he would’ve gotten extremely nervous, but he didn’t do that. He took it for help and dropped it to run inside. 

After a moment of thinking about it she decided to shrug the thought off, she wasn’t worried about it. Even if her thoughts were along the lines of their process, she should be appreciative either way.

Inside the restaurant, the blue eyed ninja found himself more comfortable with Sakura there. He didn’t know why he had to feel more comfortable, but his heart slowed, his palms stopped sweating, he felt cooler. He felt as if he could enjoy the night, like he didn’t have to think, so he didn’t.

That night was the last night all of you had eaten together. That night was specifically the last night that Naruto stopped eating with you, stopped being around you completely. 

You didn’t show much of a reaction to it at first, but Naruto wouldn’t have known, he hadn’t seen you since you all were together. Sakura, on the other hand, knew exactly how you felt. You may have kept a straight face and shrugged her off every time you asked, but she was still your friend.

The pink haired girl noticed your furrowed brows and slightly shaking iris’s when she told you that she was going to lunch with Naruto. You were so confused because you always heard of the plans from Naruto directly, when you asked Sakura she told you that “Naruto didn’t mention you.”

At those words you turned around and walked off, raising your hand in a half-hearted wave. You didn’t care, or at least that’s what you wanted everyone to think because Sakura could see the reality. Anyone would be able to know how you felt….your best friend just disregarded you, and hasn’t asked about you since. Anyone would be hurt to come to that conclusion. 

Naruto thought that his nerves were because he had missed Sakura dearly, he was only really nervous when she wasn’t around. He came to that conclusion because of the way her presence calmed him, she brought him peace and he adored her for it. He adored her, that’s why everything felt wrong, because it got stronger so he needed to be near her.

He needed to be near her so he started inviting her to eat more often just with him. He began complimenting her more when there wasn’t a need for it, he tried to think of her more, he overexerted himself with energy to show Sakura that he wanted to be around her more. Naruto did all of this because he wanted the feelings to grow stronger, he wanted to ignite more passion. He wanted to be with her and feel more because of her.

So, why wasn’t he?

Eating with her is nice, it always is, but it feels like the usual. It’s peaceful, he eats and talks with her about their day, it’s just food with a friend. He didn’t feel any rush of emotions, he didn’t feel anything actually. 

That realization hit him one day when he was walking with Sakura, he was dropping her off to her tasks while he was going to keep going to the forest, he had training to do. Sakura waved him off when they reached her destination with a smile, Naruto reflecting it a bit wider with a thumbs up.

He continued to walk, releasing a breath he didn’t actually know he was holding. “I don’t get it.” He muttered to himself, scratching the back of his neck once he reached the training area. He decided to get his head spun straight and focus, this would be a good distraction for him, a good time to get away from any feeling.

Barely an hour into the training session, Jiraiya was standing in front of him with a blank expression. His arms were crossed against his chest as he stared at Naruto, a bit of concern sparked in his eyes. The man sighed and ran a hand through his white hair, “You’re distracted.”

“What makes you say that?”

The mentor stared down at the boy who was drenched in water from the exercise he failed to execute, causing him to sink. Naruto was currently drying himself off, and was asking what made it look like he was distracted.

Jiraiya tilted his head with a raised brow, “What’s with you today?”

“Nothing!” Naruto answered, springing himself up from the ground, small droplets of water shaking from his hair. “I’m super focused!” He claimed with a smile, ready for the next exercise to try.

There was silence in response and Jiraiya didn’t even try to make a movement.

“Okay, I’m a little distracted.” He finally admitted, dropping back to the ground with a small frown.

The white haired man sat in front of Naruto, crossing his legs. He smiled, relieved that Naruto was being truthful. “What’s on your mind?”

Naruto huffed out a breath, running a hand through his wet hair as he hunched over. “It’s…” He paused, hissing through his teeth, “complicated.”

“Try me.”

There was another portion of silence until the blonde took a deep breath and let go. “I’ve been feeling overwhelmed?” He questioned his own words, putting his face into his hands, “That’s not right, I mean my stomach’s been twisting and turning, I’ve been feeling hot, I just…”

“You don't look sick.” Was the response to Naruto's words, Jiraiya looked the boy over, he looked fine. His complexion was normal, he was able to move, he just looked like he had a lot on his mind.

Naruto shook his head, “I’m not sick, I don’t think…” He trailed off, groaning as he grasped his hair, “It’s so complicated! I don’t know why my heart keeps beating faster, why my body feels like it can’t work, why my face gets hotter every day, I can’t figure anything out anymore!” He ranted out, leaning back so far to the point he was splayed out on the ground in frustration.

His mentor gently laughed and patted Naruto on his knee, “Ah, Sakura, huh?”

“What?” Naruto asked, sitting up halfway, supported by his elbows. “What about her?”

“I mean, you’re feeling this when she’s around, right?”

Naruto shook his head, “I thought it was because I missed her, but…I don’t really feel anything like that when she’s around.” He shrugged, “It’s like when I’m talking to you, I feel fine.”

The older man's brows furrowed, “But…when do you feel like this?”

“I don’t know! It just happens.”

“Are you sure you’re not around anyone else?”

Naruto tried to think, staring out to the water as he did. Everytime he felt that way, it disappeared as soon as Sakura got there, but why was he feeling it in the first place? Was there anyone else there when he felt that way? It was always him…and…you.

“I mean..I guess so.”

“Who?”

Naruto said your name with a small tilt of his head, “But, I don’t know what he has to do with anything, he was always there, we all hang out.”

The elder man scratched his head with a sigh, “Okay, hold on.” He paused, trying to find the right words to say, “You like Sakura?”

“Yes! Well, no! It’s.. I don’t think I ever really liked her like that.” Naruto stammered, sitting up fully as his face scrunched a bit in thought.

Jiraiya waved his hand, “Continue.”

Naruto hummed as he tried to think of how to word his thoughts, “I just admired her, I mean I still do.” He told him, “She’s one of my greatest friends.” Naruto explained with a small grin, “She’s intelligent and determined with everything she does, and I always want to be there for her to help her with whatever goals she has.”

There was a bit of silence, so Jiraiya pushed a bit, “But?”

“But that’s really it, I don’t feel anything else.”

His mentor nodded and adjusted his shirt, “What about…him?”

“You know, when I call him a friend I don’t mind but…something hurts.” Naruto answered honestly, bringing his hand up to clasp his chest.

“Hurts?”

Naruto nodded, “Like a pain in my chest, it just doesn't feel nice.” He answered, frowning a bit. 

“Are you sure what you’ve been feeling isn't because of him?” The white haired man asked curiously, seeing no other option for the situation.

Naruto laughed a bit, letting go of his chest, before he could answer he thought about it for a bit. He did always feel his heart beating faster, his face flushing, and his body beginning to shake every time you were near him. He did sometimes look at you a bit longer, or want to be around you longer, but he’s always felt like that. Naruto shook his head, “No…” He trailed off as he continued to think about it, “I mean, he’s been there, but we…”

Jiraiya began to frown slightly at Naruto’s sudden spike of confusion. The man scooted forward and placed a hand on Naruto's shoulder, “Naruto, it’s not unusual to feel strongly about someone you’re close to, but sometimes those feelings can be more than platonic.” He spoke slowly, gently rubbing at his shoulder.

Naruto was silent, his head downcasted. Before Jiraiya could speak anymore, the boy stood and began to walk, “I’ll be back for training tomorrow, I swear.” He spoke before walking through the trees back to the village. 

Jiraiya chewed the inside of his cheek before clapping his hands on his knees, “Hopefully that turns out alright.” He mumbled to himself before standing and brushing himself off.

You were currently meditating at the edge of town where anyone could find you if they needed you, you’d been doing it for a bit since you had no one to really be around for anything other than tasks. You took deep breaths, feeling your chest rise and fall, feeling your blood circulating through you. You were aware of your surroundings even though your eyes were closed, you were aware and alert.

When you heard footsteps, you didn’t think much of it, it could be a passing villager, they never bothers you. Since they never bothered you, you didn’t bother to open your eyes, they would pass and you would return to your sense of peace. Unfortunately, you couldn’t return to peace because the person stopped right in front of you.

You began to open your eyes, “What can I help wi-” Your question was partially cut off when you saw Naruto Uzumaki dripping with water in front of you. “You’re wet.”

Naruto scoffed a bit in disbelief at your observation, “I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks, and that’s the first thing you say?” He asked, a smile beginning to grow on his face as he pushed his hair back slightly.

You stood up slowly, “Maybe if you weren’t dripping with water I would be angrier.”

Your friend sighed, “I sank in the lake.”

You tried your best not to laugh but your hand covering your mouth proved inefficient. 

Naruto shook his head, “I deserved that, I’m sorry.” He told you honestly, smile dropping, as did his hand in his hair. “That wasn’t fair to you.”

You tilted your head side to side, “I guess that’s a solid apology.” You hummed out, crossing your arms, “I hope your dates with Sakura proved worth it, you’re buying my food for a week.”

“Dates?”

You blinked at Naruto, eye twitching slightly as you walked forward and gently grasped his shirt, “You weren’t ignoring me for no reason, right?” You asked, eyes scarily wide, “You were going on dates with Sakura…right?”

Naruto laughed nervously and you felt your anger shoot into your nerves as you gripped his shirt a little tighter. The blonde waved his hands a bit, “Wait! Wait! I surrender, let me explain!” He pleaded, partially begged.

You let him go reluctantly and crossed your arms over your chest, tapping your foot on the ground. “Okay, explain.”

Naruto put his hand on his chest for a breath and gave you a wide smile. “Well, I was feeling nervous.”

“Nervous?”

He nodded, “My heart was speeding up, my hands were shaking, I was blushing a lot, I couldn’t find words, I couldn’t make eye conta-”

“So, you were just nervous around her and wanted to get over that?” You interrupted, trying to connect what was going on yourself.

Naruto shook his head, holding his hand up to tell you to just wait. “I wasn’t feeling all that with Sakura, I was feeling it when I was around you.” He spoke quickly, not letting you respond before he continued. “I know I’ve been going about it the wrong way, but I really didn’t know until someone basically pried my eyes open to see that I really like you!” He announced,. His voice getting a little loud, his eyes closed tightly. Once he finished his confession his breathing was heavy from all the breath he used up to say everything at once.

You were stood in shock, to the point your hands dropped to your sides. Once you came to your senses you smiled a bit, “Can you open your eyes?” You asked him, and he just shook his head quickly. You walked forward and gently cupped Naruto's face, causing him to screw his eyes shut even tighter.

A laugh escaped you and you gently shook his head with your hands on the sides of his face. When he still wouldn’t open his eyes you leaned forward, gently kissing his eyelids, “Can you please open your eyes?” You asked, pecking the bridge of his nose.

The blonde's face began to flush red as he slowly opened his eyes, his sights filled with you smiling at him. He reached his own hand up and gently cupped your cheek, causing you to lean into his touch, your face was warm. 

“So, you like me too?” Naruto asked, gaze darting over your face for any other reaction from you.

You gently rolled your eyes and pulled Naruto's face closer, “I really like you.” You answered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. The blonde kept his hand on the side of your face, the other reaching for your waist to pull you closer as he tried to deepen the kiss.

You pulled back, placing your noses together, “You’re still buying my food for a week.” You stated with a nod, rubbing your noses together.

Naruto laughed with a wide smile, “Deal.” He mumbled before pressing his lips to yours once more, he couldn’t get enough of you, and now he could have as much of you as he wanted.

[youwouldntlietopapa]

Headcanons: Sick Papas

Primo:

He has a special tea he makes that he claims fixes everything.

Absolutely refuses to see a doctor or to take any actual medication.

Immediately goes to bed.

Sleeps for 4 solid days. You actually end up checking on him repeatedly just to make sure he didn’t die. Not because he’s old but because it’s been FOUR DAYS.

Wakes up perfectly fine.

Completely cured.

Goes on about his day as if nothing strange happened.

Secondo:

Refuses to admit he’s sick at all.

Hard pass on any medication.

Miserably grumpy for DAYS while still maintaining he is NOT sick.

Finally has to admit he’s sick.

Turns into the poutiest boy.

He requires pastina. Just all the pastina.

And cuddles.

And that tissue with the lotion in it because his nose hurts.

And his fuzzy robe.

And also a marathon of Golden Girls that you are absolutely not allowed to tell anyone he loves watching.

Terzo:

There are actual infants that handle being sick with more grace.

At the first sign of a sniffle or a sore throat, he is DYING

Why can’t you see that Death’s icy hand draws near??

How could you so callously ignore his pain and suffering?

Do you not love him at all???

This is the most sick anyone has ever been in the history of the world.

Everything hurts and he will tell you about it. Repeatedly. And very sadly.

Yes, even there.

And there.

Maybe if you kiss it better?

And also some pastina?

Please?

He’s very sad and pathetic you know.

Copia:

He tries to keep working through it because there’s so much to do and he might miss a deadline of make Seestor angry or something terrible might happen.

Actually has to admit defeat after four hours and one fainting spell.

The saddest boy.

He does not like being sick.

He doesn’t pout, he just looks like he might cry at any moment with his bottom lip sticking out.

You’ll need to practically build him a nest of blankets and pillows. He needs ALL of them.

And cuddles, ideally while gently scratching his scalp.

The clingiest man when he’s not feeling well. He will be even sadder if you have to leave him alone for any reason.

Playing video games just makes his head hurt so comfort movie marathon it is.

Ends up napping through nearly all of them.

Feels just a little better when he can wear an animal onsie for sick day cuddles.

Also requests pastina. And a grilled cheese. Pretty please?

Sad Copia Noises

You both end up smelling like Vicks VapoRub.

[asher-agere]

Hiii!!! I’m so sorry you’re sick :(( I am too unfortunately (； T.T)) so I was wondering if you could do cg Chuuya with a sick baby that just will not let go of him, he has to get up for any reason? Nuh uh. Even better if baby is sleepy! Sending love and hoping you feel better soon!! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡ - ⭐️

:0 MY FIRST CHUUYA REQUEST. I LOVE CHUUYA SO MUCH. I mean… I’m so totally normal about him. Just an average character yes of course. I’m so sorry to hear you’re sick though :( Sick is never fun. I hope you feel better soon as well ⭐️!

Caregiver Chuuya + Sick Clingy Little

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

⭒ Chuuya is the perfect caregiver for a clingy little! Why you might ask? His ability of course! Upon the Tainted sorrow is perfect for carrying around a baby! For starters his little one would never be too heavy. He can carry them effortlessly. Plus he can carry things around while still holding onto his baby! Just a simple tap and it’s floating along with him

⭒ I also think Chuuya himself is pretty clingy. He’s so used to losing people that he’d want to hold his little one super duper tight! Make sure they’re still there. And reassure them that he’s still there of course! It’s mutually beneficial clinginess

⭒ The second that Chuuya notices his baby is sick he’s already resigned to the fact that he’ll be getting sick too. He doesn’t even try avoiding it. He’ll snuggle right up to his baby to take care of them. If he tried distancing himself to avoid getting sick it would just make them both so sad… Was it really worth it? He doesn’t think so at least

⭒ Chuuya can be very overbearing- Always insists on medicine, which he’ll try getting his little one to take before they drop, much easier than giving a baby medicine. He insists that they lay down, not moving much, he’ll lay with them of course! He’ll keep the temperature controlled, plenty of blankets. Ultimate comfy snuggle times!

⭒ Chuuya would never be grossed out! Sometimes sickness comes with many gross things like throwing up. But… Let’s be honest. Chuuya and his low alcohol tolerance? He’s used to dealing with vomit. So he doesn’t mind! He’ll still of course encourage getting to a toilet or using a bucket nearby. But accidents happen! And that’s ok!

⭒ Chuuya always feels awful when his baby is sick because he can’t help as much as he wants to. Plus making them take medicine? Never a happy baby! So he’d buy lots of apology gifts! Cute snacks, little gear, and new toys! His baby will be so spoiled. If he thinks they need anything then they’ll be getting it! He’s a mafia executive. He’s got plenty of money. He can use like… A couple hundred thousand dollars on his baby right? He’s got billions

⭒ Chuuya would be really good at problem solving! Sore throat? Have some warm milk! Feeling all clogged up? Sit in a steamy room! Not able to keep food down? Try eating more bland things! The bland foods can taste super yucky… But what if he puts it in cute shapes??? Much more appealing!

⭒ No matter what he’s doing of course he’ll be holding his baby! Making snacks? They’re balanced on his hip! Changing their clothes? He’ll sit them right on his lap! Watching a show? He’ll hold them close to his chest! All bundled up safe and warm. Even when they’re asleep! He’ll sit there and hold them tight, playing with their hair and cooing at them until they wake up

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Ta-Dah! So happy I get to not only write headcanons for one of my top 3 BSD characters, but they’re sickness specific headcanons! Perfect vibes for a sick day!

[sheeluvsme]

John Soap mactavish headcannons !

LETTS GET READY TO RUMBLEEE!! Hi everyone! I saw how everyone really liked my last post about price and Valeria !!! So i figured I’ll do our boy soap next :))!! Who should I write about next? I was thinking könig…lmk!!

CW// This is SFW and NSFW!! there will be female anatomy used Lightly, also NOT proof read LMAOO , ANGST! ( warning nurse! Reader, brief death) semi public stuff? Just let me know if I missed anything!!

When you first met soap , you really thought he was WEIRD AS SHIT

He like completely puzzled you with his jokes 😭

You two met at a pub!! He had claimed to think your face was familiar and you told him you worked for army medical. You were a army nurse ! That’s when it clicked in his tiny little brain, because lord knows he’s been to medical lotssss of times.

The first thing that pulled him in was your laugh. When you finally started laughing at his stupid jokes he couldn’t help but smile like a teen boy.

Soap is also good to you! He i a sweetheart and lovessss taking you wherever you want to go, he mostly likes going shopping with your for two very important reasons 1. To make sure no one fucks with you 2. So he can get his favorite candy.

He actually likes watching you shop and be in your own little world! He thinks it’s cute because when he’s focused he does the same thing.

He knows you have anxiety about alottttt of things and he is right there for you! He knows public places scare you because of germs and also just some many loud people

He finds it funny your so loud and assistive at your place of work but as soon as you hit the public you turn into a shy little thing and he adores it!

Especially when you don’t want to bother people, your sitting there with your cart … waiting for this one person to move… and he’s like “ what you waitin’ for lass?” And you jester to the person in-front of you. He can’t help but smile and shake his head at you “ excuse meh’ ! We gotta get by you” he louder then he should of announced 😭

Soap always says the most random funny shit to you, he knows you have quite a gruesome sad job sometimes , so coming back home with him and his humor really helps!!

One day you absolutely came home in tears , you were shattered, your heart felt so so sore. He couldn’t help but immediately sore to you hold you. “ aye aye ..sweetheart what’s wrong-?! Did someone hurt you? Is it your boss again because I swea-“ you just shake your head no. You quietly explain to him through your tears a kid died on you. There was nothing you could really do but make them comfortable but you couldn’t help but feel sorrow. Because you definitely wanted kids with soap. So this scared you. He just holds you so tightly stroking your hair. “ it’s ok sweetheart. You did your absolute best. It’s ok..”

He always know how to exactly get you feeling better. Even if your sick ! You yell at him to stay away from you because you’re sick and have gross germs!! But he literally couldn’t care he picks you up anyways kissing you and hugging you!

He wasn’t very educated on periods at first but you definitely taught him , maybe a little too graphic because after he hugged you and told you how lucky he is to have a dick LMAOO

On your period he like genuinely calls it ‘ Shark week! ‘

He’s the type to say , when you ask him to grab you pads and says ‘ what size pussy you got ‘ PLSPSLLSL

You catch this man listening to the lady Gaga or Katie Perry 100% AND YOU KNOW WHAT HE LITERALLY HAS NO SHAME

He thinks your just the prettiest thing wearing his shirts !! Makes him secretly go nuts

He admires you a lot , the way you have to be up at ASS O’CLOCK in the morning for work and you still make him lunch or morning coffee???? He wants to be YOU when he grows up LMAOO

NSFW

He also like price has a primal urge to make you his baby momma LMAOO

He loves telling you that during sex “ yeah? Like that? You like when I’m deep inside you hm? Gonna’ getcha’ fucking pregnant with my kid.”

He is a MAJOR bitter

He loves biting you everywhere and leaving his marks on you. It’s his favorite thing getting up after you watching you slip on your scrubs and try and cover your neck bites with makeup. He can’t help but cheekily smile

He is also a MAJOR pussy eater , loveessss eating you like a starved man , especially overstimulation.

He will eat you over and over and over till your literally sobbing and saying you can’t anymore ( he of course respects your request)

He is BIGGGG on in public stuff ‼️‼️

Like if your out for a nice dinner you can’t help but send a glare his way as his hand creeps up your thigh. “ what do you think your doing?” You playfully smack his hand away. “ what dose it look like I’m doing hm?” He whispers. “ it looks like your focused on the wrong food.” You keep yourself together as you sip your wine. “ I’m a man who likes his dessert before his dinner what can I say?” You choke on your wine.

DONT even get me started when your out clubbing together going to a pub with a few of 141 to have a good time , you yourself are having too much of a good time. Your buzzed , warm , and feeling damn good, your make up worked out perfectly and your clothes fit you JUST right.

Soap leaves his eyes off you for one minute and he sees gaz and price chuckling as they point to you , clearly having the time of your life in the crowded dance floor , soap is chuckling too until he notices a guy gawking you and obviously too close for his comfort. Your oblivious to what’s happening honestly there’s so many people smooshed together, your too focused on dancing.

He quickly sets down his drink squeezing through people, quickly apologizing. He grabs your waist quickly pulling you close before looking back at the guy that was very close to touching what’s his. Soap quickly says “ step off. She’s with me.” You quickly turn around to see your beautiful boyfriend and smile “ Johnny!! I was wondering when you’d come out here and show off your sweet dance moves!” Obviously teasing him. Because his ass can not dance 😭

Soap hears you and smiles but he’s quietly brewing. Suddenly he’s dragging you to the clubs bathroom. Thank god it’s a single use. “ wha- cmon was my dancing that embarrassing?” You tease him wondering what the hell is happening. “ no love. Not that. Just..” her huffs grabbing you pulling you close. “ people keep ogling’ whats mine. I don’t take very kindly to it.” Your cheeks heat up. You’ve never seen him like this but your not complaining. You didn’t even notice people looking at you. “ well I promise I’m all yours Johnny..” he quickly sticks his lips to yours. Hungrily kissing you , licking into you. “ soap- every one else is gonna-“ he quickly cuts you off. “ let them. I’m having you right now whether they like it or not.”

Soap seems more dominant but he is half and half sometimes he just needs to be your good boy ‼️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

He absolutely LOVESSSSS when you top him or sit on his face. If he’s tired but still really wants you THATS when he turns into putty in your hands.

He fucking loves when you pull on his Mohawk ‼️ he can’t help but whimper and god damn is so beautiful.

BIG ON PRAISE let that poor boy know he’s doing good!!! Degrading him just makes him feel competitive, then the tables will turn..

He loves begging you to let him cum in you , “ please- please let me cum in you. Fucking hell!- haa- please please. I want you to feel good-“ of course with him you obviously CANT say no!!

He’s also pretty good with after care, he likes taking baths with you because soap does enjoy a good bubble bath!!

Next morning you wake up late because it’s your day off, he’s gone for work already but you smell something? You walk into the kitchen and he made you breakfast and coffee with a small note. “ gotta take care of my girl after she takes care of me , I love ya ! -your secret admirer” and ofc he spells like half of that wrong but its ok because you do indeed love your boyfriend!

Thank you for reading!!! Hope you enjoyed <33

[hwashotcheeto]

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑵𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆

Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: After you fall ill, your loving boyfriend promises to take care of you

WC: 1.4k

Content: Fluffy sick fic! So fluffy! Cuddles, lil bit of crying, lots of comfort, Hwa being an overbearing partner

AN: I wrote this because a) I got COVID 😭 and b) because I love comfort/sick fics. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it, because oh, I got emotional writing it.

Moodboard credit again goes to my lovely @malldreamprincess . Thank you again sweetie 💜

Of all things you expected to wake up to, being sick definitely wasn't one of them. 

You stood in the kitchen, a hot drink in one hand to soothe your sore throat, and in your other hand, a COVID test. You stared at the little window, waiting to see if the other line would appear to tell you if you had caught the plague or not. 

And unfortunately, that second line appeared. 

As the revelation came over you, it seemed as if your body realized it had the cursed sickness the same minute you did, and all the symptoms came crashing into you at once. 

A frustrated groan leaves your lips as the body aches begin, like a vice gripping onto different parts of your body. You slam the test on the counter and go to sit down at the table. You take a sip of your drink, and right after, you're choking up phlegm and spitting it into the trash.

Then the headache hit, and you were done with the day before it even began. 

You put your cup down and held your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes. Your first day off from work in a week, and you somehow got sick. The irony of it all was the cruelest joke you could think of. 

Your boyfriend came into the kitchen, his eyes still half closed from sleep. You didn't get the chance to say anything before he saw the test. 

“This is what your sore throat was?” Seonghwa asked, his morning voice low and scratchy. You nodded and looked down at the table as you rubbed the tears out of your eyes. 

He caught the small movement and went over to you, putting his arm around your shoulders. Instinctively, you moved away from him, not wanting to get him sick. 

But when you looked at Seonghwa, he looked genuinely hurt. His eyes were heavy and his shoulders were down. 

“I don't want to get you sick,” you tried to explain, but Seonghwa was already walking up to you and pulling you against his chest, his arms around your waist. 

“If you were already showing symptoms yesterday, then you had it yesterday, and I've probably already got it.” 

He was right, but for some reason, the idea makes you tear up again and you lean into his neck, hugging him back. The cries and whimpers come a few seconds later. 

Seonghwa didn't say anything. He just held you tight, slowly rocking back and forth. 

And it felt good. You felt awful, sure, but it felt good to cry. To be held by your loving boyfriend, and to cry out your frustration. 

You and Seonghwa had made plans today. You were going to finally hang out for the first time in a while, doing cute couple things instead of coexisting. You were going to make breakfast together, then play video games, maybe watch some movies too. You two were even going to go out to dinner and spend some time out, just wandering the streets. 

And now you were sick and couldn't do all those things. The cries come out harder and you hug Seonghwa tighter. 

“I got you, jagiya,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead after. “I'm not going anywhere. I'll take care of you.” 

“But you'll get sick,” you tried to protest. 

“I don't care.” He put his hand on your cheek and tilted your head up, wiping your tears with his thumb. “I'll spend all day with you. And tomorrow, and the next day, for however long you're sick.

“Seonghwa, I can handle-” 

“Jagi, don't push me away.” His eyes changed then, back to that sadness when you moved away from him. “Please. I want to take care of you.” His hand moved to the back of your neck, cradling your head and neck in his palm. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you whispered, just before he pulled you in for a soft kiss, solidifying his promise and sealing his fate. 

At that moment, you considered yourself the luckiest person on the planet. To have someone who loved you so much, they'd throw caution to the wind just to stay with you while you were sick. Not because they had to care for you, because they wanted to. 

Seonghwa helped you dry your tears before he gave you another forehead kiss. “What do you want for breakfast? Say it, I’ll make it for you.” 

“I'm not very hungry,” you started, but Seonghwa cut you off. 

“You're going to eat breakfast. You need it, especially now that you're sick. Now what can I make you?” 

You can't help but smile. Your loving boyfriend has always been overbearing, like a mother, and you've always loved it. He took care of you better than anyone else, he was always there to get you food or water, help with chores, ask you how you were feeling. 

Sometimes, it's annoying, but it comes from a place of love. He wants you to be happy and healthy, because he truly loves you more than anything else. 

Even more than Star Wars and Lego. That's a lot of love. 

You stayed next to Seonghwa as he made you your requested breakfast. You boiled a pot of water to make yourself tea for your throat, upon Seonghwa's insistence. 

“I can just drink water.” 

“The tea will help, jagi, I promise.” 

Seonghwa made two plates of food, and you both went to eat on the couch. You were wrapped up in a blanket and pressed up against Seonghwa’s side. He had his arm around you, eating his food with one hand as he cuddled you. He still managed to finish before you, somehow.  

After breakfast, despite your protests, Seonghwa brought your dishes back to the kitchen. You were used to your boyfriend’s cleanliness, and honestly, you appreciated it. But today, you wanted his cuddles more than you wanted his perfectionism. 

When he came back, you made sure to hold him in place with your body weight. He noticed it and couldn't help but laugh. 

“I'm here, jagi, it's okay.” 

“You left me,” you whined, pressing your face into his shoulder. 

“For a minute.” 

“But you promised.” 

“I know, I promised, but I'm here now. For the rest of the day, I'll bring you with, okay?” 

You nodded this time, feeling the fatigue already creeping back up on you. Thankfully, Seonghwa had prepared for this, and already grabbed the Switch controllers. 

But before he began, he offered you some pain killers. “Here, I got these too.” 

You hadn't even noticed that he'd gotten them, but you gratefully took them with the tea. 

“You'd make an amazing nurse, you know,” you joked as you set the mug back down. You had your arms around his waist, your head against his chest, hugging him tight. 

Seonghwa smiled down at you as he draped his arm over you. “What do you mean? Aren't I already your nurse?” 

The two of you laughed together, but it was true. He was a nurse. Your personal, adorable, gorgeous, loving nurse. 

Seonghwa had started up Animal Crossing, despite him insisting that you two play something together. But you were content to watch him run around with his villagers and do chores. It's a simple game, but a relaxing one. 

“What's that one's name again?” You asked, pointing at a blue bunny wearing a letterman jacket off to the side of the screen. She was looking at a snow covered bush, holding a little basket. 

“Her?” Seonghwa asked, running up to her. “This is Sasha. Haven't I told you before?” 

He probably had, and you just weren't remembering correctly because of your sickness. 

“She reminds me of you.” 

“Yeah?” Seonghwa asked. 

“Yeah. Because you're a tokki.” 

He laughed, and you swear, it felt like the aches disappeared for a few seconds. 

The game was starting to put you to sleep. You'd wanted to stay awake a little while longer, but before you knew it, your eyes were falling shut again. Seonghwa didn't notice until he heard the soft snores coming from you. 

He looked down from the TV and smiled at you. Even when you were sick, with your face bright red from your oncoming fever, you were still his adorable love. 

He put the controller down for a second to pet your head, like you were a sleeping kitten. 

“Sleep well, nae sarang. I’m here for you.” 

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[weskipooo]

GHOSTFACE X NON READER

TW gore, harsh language, suggested content

This is my first post i really hope you like it, my best friend grammer checked me and helped me go check out their work they are amazing! @shotoyami

I ran as fast as my feet could carry me- my mouth dry, my legs sore; everyone was dead on hook beside me- and Ghostface is actively hot on my tail in a desperate pursuit. I wipe the blood off my lips, from his previous stab, as I run. My back aches in pain, but not too much because of the adrenaline. “Please, I’m almost there!” I mumble to myself in desperation, slamming a pallet between myself and the bloody killer, stunning him good. “Fucking bitch,” he cursed through his teeth, leaving me feeling prideful. 

I ran and jumped through the hatch, a great, big smile on my face. My team pats my back, giving me praises, though I winced, my back still in pain from the stab wound. Sable noticed my wound, helping me sit down on a fallen log near our camp, “Here, let me patch you up.” I gave Sable a weak smile, relaxing around the familiar presence, sort of laughing for some form of easing my mental stress, “Thank you, I took a rough hit out there today.” She laughed and lifted my shirt while grabbing a medkit. “I’m glad you’re alright. It was tough today, and Ghostface wasn’t too happy about losing you.” I raised a brow, glancing up at the night sky. “What? …why would he be angry?” She gave a soft, pensive sigh, rubbing alcohol on my wound. The action causing me to both wince and let out a huff. “Sorry,” she mutters, though I quickly reassure her. “It’s alright- why so upset?” She focused on my back while speaking, “No one knows. All we witnessed is him storming out of the challenge cursing and throwing things all while saying your name.” A shiver ran up my spine, though that was most likely due to Sable beginning to stitch up my back. “You might want to steer clear of him,” she warns with a worried face. The thoughtfulness makes me smile a bit. “Thank you, Sable. I appreciate the concern.” 

I slowly pull my shirt back over the rest of my body, so as not to hurt or put pressure on my back. I then walk further into the woods, where my tent resides, with a tinier campfire and a change of clothes and food to the side. I sigh out of relief, changing my blood-stained shirt and pants; the cold wind brushing against my skin makes me shiver. Once I was done, I rubbed my hands above the fire- huffing hot air into my hands. A sudden snap catches my attention, causing me to avert my eyes, scanning over every single tree, bush, and even to the sky, but… nothing. I calmed my breathing, mentally reassuring myself that it was simply the wind, which would be a reasonable thing to expect. 

However, before I could scream, my body is suddenly slammed against a tree near my camp, causing me to cry out in agonizing pain- feeling my stitches open up again. A hand comes to my throat, squeezing and cutting my airflow short. There’s a dark laugh that cuts through the air, “I got you now…I’ve been looking everywhere for you after your little getaway. What’s wrong, hm?” My face goes pale as a ghost- my brain racks as I try to grasp if he’s angry or enjoying this sick situation. “Fuck you” I rasped out, gasping and clawing at his hand. He quickly moved me back and forth, slamming me against the tree again- which earns him another agonizing scream. “Looks like my stab did a number on you…aww, poor thing. You gonna cry?” I felt like I was being humiliated, even with no one around. My eyes started to tear up, though all it seemed to do was rile him up more, “Don’t look so sad, I wouldn’t dare lay another hand on you…at least, not in a way you wouldn’t like.” My face suddenly feels hot, though I kicked at him for some sort of attempt at freedom. “Squirming gets you nowhere, sweetheart. You really hurt my feelings by slamming that pallet in my face back during the challenge. Shame on you.” By now, I could feel my blood running down my back. “Looks like Sable will have to patch you up again.” My eyes widened–‘he was watching?’ I thought to myself, searching his body language for some sort of further clues. “I just came for an apology.” I glared at him despite wincing “I won’t apol-“ My back is slammed again, earning yet another, even more painful, cry. My body goes weak, my vision seeping black into my line of sight. “Apologizing is fun, isn’t it? Come on, apologize to me.” He taunts, though I could tell, without even seeing under his mask, the immense joy in his voice. “I’m sorry..” I wheeze out, still grasping for air. He finally relents his grip on my throat, my lungs sucking in air greedily, then he crouches in front of me. “Let’s not make the same mistake next time, yeah?” I nod my head desperately. “Good. I’ll leave you alone, so go back to Sable to get patched up again. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart,” He left, my mind foggy. How did I end up in this situation…

[netherfeildren]

FEAR OF GOD: Chapter VIII: The Fisher King

Series Masterlist ; Moodboard

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Summary: Teach me how to ask for forgiveness, even when I know I don’t deserve it. 

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: angst; PTSD; very brief mention of infertility in the first section, description of injury

A/N: Art is Breach by Keith Perelli (2006-2007)

Word Count: 4.2K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER VII: The Fisher King

But still. Still.

Bless me anyway.

I want more life. I can’t help myself. I do.

I’ve lived through such terrible times, and

There are people who live through much worse, but… You see them living

anyway. When they’re more spirit than body, more sores, than skin, when they’re

burned and in agony, when flies lay eggs in

the corners of the eyes of their children,

they live. Death usually has to take life 

away. I don’t know if that’s just the animal. 

I don’t know if it’s not braver to die. But I 

recognize the habit. The addiction to being 

alive. We live past hope. If I can find hope

anywhere, that’s it, that’s the best I can do.

It’s so much not enough, so inadequate but

…Bless me anyway. I want more life.

-Tony Kushner, Angels in America

“Do you think you’ve been happy, so far?” you ask her one night. 

“I think so, yes. Have you?” Her answer is immediate. She’d never been one for much indecision – that was always your role.

“Yes. At times. I’ve also been very sad.”

“Me too.” You can hear it now, that sadness, in the quietness of her voice.

“I hope we can be happy in the future. That we’ll be together, always.” The two of you are laying under the stars, hidden in the forest, in your old sleeping bags. She says the trees guard you, keep you safe. If you’d had more experience, you’d have felt very close to death in that moment. 

“We will be. Don’t worry about that.”

“I don’t want either of us to die,” and you can hear how young you sound, how naive. Despite all you’ve been through, you’ve not been able to let go of that part of yourself. When you’re older you will think that, perhaps, that was not such a bad thing. 

“We won’t. That won’t happen.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Yes, I can. I have a plan. If we stick to it, we’ll be okay.”

“Alright.” Your trust in her is implicit, after all. 

She is very quiet for a while after that, you think she’s fallen asleep, but then suddenly: “You know, I can’t have children.” 

“How do you know?”

“Things were off – Dad was able to run some tests.” That sadness is there again, echoing in her voice, and it is a very painful thing to hear from someone you love so much – someone you know would want that for themselves. 

“I’m sorry.” For there is nothing else to be said in light of such a tragedy for her. She would make a wonderful mother.

“It makes me really sad.” There’s quiet again, for a long time, but then: “I know it’s a terrible world. Not safe – but still… It makes me very sad.” 

“I’ll have one for the both of us. We can share.”

One of the last times you ever hear her laugh – you should have cherished the sound more – branded it in your memory. “I’d like that.”

Beth is dead two days later. 

-

He sits by your sick bed for days. Shrouded in darkness, he lets his fear, his nightmares swallow him whole – the great gaping maw of a monstrous dream come to fruition. He thinks of Sarah’s mother, his ex-wife, for some reason – can’t understand why she comes to his mind in this moment, honestly. He hasn’t thought about her in decades, that woman he’d known so long ago – can hardly remember her face now. It makes him indescribably sad.

He’s trying to prevent his mind from dissociating. To keep himself present, in case you wake, in case you need him. But the sight of you, small and pale and broken. So still. It fractures his mind in a way he cannot understand. The days of you being lost – of his mad flight to find you, out with teams of hunters, combing the forest for any sign of you, the way he’d screamed at Maria and Tommy and Ellie and anyone else who got too close, spoke too loudly. He’d been extremely close to violence, of the unimaginable sort. That terrible last night, his own destruction, flashing over and over and over in his mind, the things he’d said to you. He could not compare the terror to anything else he’d ever experienced before. The pure horror of that being the last memory you’d ever have of him, of coming across your dead, mangled body, of never seeing your bright, unguarded smile again – in decades filled with fear, day in and day out, he now felt he’d been infected with the most unimaginable of diseases. A stabbing, bone melting pain to his mind, his heart, his flesh, again and again, all of his own making. 

This is his fault. He did this to you. Pushed you away. Made you feel like you needed to flee, escape him. He wants to be angry with you for being so stupid, for going out there without him. But how could he not understand it – for what choice did he give you? That you’d prefer to face the monsters out there, rather than the one inside, the one in front of you – rather than him. He thinks he too would rather face the horrors out there, a thousand infected, than face himself. Face his own guilt, his own shortcomings. 

He still isn’t speaking to Maria – can barely look at her. He’d told her if you were dead it’d fall on her head. That he’d blame her for it forever. It was a viciously unfair, nasty thing to throw at her when he’d been the one to push you away, the one to tell you to leave, when this was really all his fault alone. 

He thinks of Tess – how he’d not been able to keep her safe either, all that time ago. A regret so profound, he’s sure he’ll swim in it for the rest of his miserable life. 

Ellie had said sending you away that night had perhaps been the worst thing he’d ever done. The sight of you in this bed proves that fact, and he is filled with a rage so black, so all consuming, it cripples him, will send him to his grave if you don’t come out of this. 

He hasn’t slept in days. Merely closing his eyes to rest his racing mind a few moments at a time. The baby you’d had with you has been with Maria. Tiny, squealing, rageful thing that she is. She only quiets when Maria brings her into your room, lays her beside your sleeping form. As if she knows already, even now, that the best place in the entire world is at your side. He closes his eyes in the quiet interminable moments of waiting and tries to picture Sarah’s mother in his mind. To remember her face. He cannot. There’s only a flash of dark curls. The sound of her voice, gone to time. All he can conjure with clarity is the image of Sarah’s smiling face that last morning he’d spent with her. His most precious memory. Something he exercises in his mind every morning when he wakes, lest, he too, forget that. He wonders if she’s still alive, what happened to her after the outbreak. He hopes she survived – hopes she lived a life not too full of terrible, painful things. Although, he isn’t entirely sure there exists any other version of this life anymore. He hopes he can find it, if it does, and give it to you, if you’ll let him.

He looks back at your resting form. The welts and scrapes that had marred the side of your face are healing well. The swelling receding into angry bruising. Nancy was worried you’d sustained a head injury, as an explanation for your prolonged unconsciousness, but neither the bones in your face, nor your skull were broken. Perhaps only a mild concussion, she thought. It inclined her to believe this was simply a side effect of the blood loss you’d endured from the wound in your side, the exhaustion and trauma.

Joel thinks he might become a religious man after this. Thinks he might start going to church, prostrating himself at the effigy of the cross to thank whatever higher power there exists for bringing you back to him, keeping you alive, allowing him another chance to see that smile, even if it’s never directed at him again. Because that is something else he is terribly afraid of. That his last words to you that night, will be the only thing you’ll ever be able to remember of him. All you’ll ever be able to see of him, going forward. He is so, so afraid of the consequences of his own terrible actions. Terrified that the moment he cast you away will be the only moment the two of you live in together for the rest of your lives.

And he thinks: Joel Miller, you are a man made up of fears. 

-

The first thing you see when you finally open your eyes again are his hands. They’re scarred. Tiny, faded marks of a life past, marring the lines of a map of all his pain, his history. Your body hurts, one large throbbing bruise. But the fire in your shoulder, the muscles of your back and arm, has abated. You say a silent prayer of thanks that you’d been able to keep from straining it more. Any more damage and you’d have probably lost function of the limb entirely.

His eyes are closed, his temple pressed against his fist on the arm of the chair pulled up to your bedside. The house is entirely silent – dark and peaceful. You stretch your legs under the blankets, no terrible amount of pain, and his eyes spring open immediately at the subtle sound of your shifting. So attuned to you, that the mere rustling of the sheets brings him to wakefulness. You watch the dilation of his pupils, everything else frozen in place. Head still resting against his fist, he stares at you wide eyed and unblinking. You take in his face – his eyes are bloodshot and rimmed in the harsh purple bruising of exhaustion. His too long, messy curls lie limply across his forehead. He looks haggard, wrung dry. The most defeated you’ve ever witnessed him. Neither of you say anything as you study the other. He still hasn’t moved and the look in his eyes – afraid, resigned, like you’re a predator about to come in for the kill strike. 

You feel indescribably sad for him, seeing him like this. Brought down low. It’s wrong. Not an image of the Joel you know that should exist in the world. You’re sure you mustn’t look much better. Broken, the both of you, in this shared moment. You slowly start to slide your palm across the bed towards him, and like a flip bringing him back to life, he melts onto the ground from the chair. Coming to kneel on the floor at the edge of the bed, he grasps your outstretched hand and presses his forehead into your palm, his grasp so, so gentle. His other hand snakes up, under the blankets to grip your bare knee in his warm palm, his thumb slowly sweeps over the bend.

His shoulders begin to jerk, in tiny little gasps. He’s crying.

“I was so afraid.” It is choked and guttural, a confession of the highest order, an admission of weakness, a supplication for mercy, for forgiveness. 

You know that his words are all encompassing. He was afraid that night, when the two of you were attacked, when he told you he loved you, when he sent you away, when he couldn’t find you. He’s been afraid for decades, since the moment he met you, since the moment his daughter died. Your heart cleaves in two at the sight of his defeat. The hot slide of his tears through the spaces between your fingers, pooling in the cup of your palm, the liquid feel of them burns you, incites a violence in your heart to rise up at the sight of his suffering, of his pain. But you say nothing. Too weighed down by your own terror, your own pain. 

By the prospect of having to tell him the truth. The secret you’ve been carrying with you, that you’re pregnant. Terrified of his reaction. Of his possible rejection. For it isn’t just you anymore that would feel the loss of him. There’s two, three, of you now. And you’re terrified of having to ask him to bear this with you. Don’t want to have to ask. And part of you knows, is positive, that he’ll be there for you without you ever having to even ask. That there would be no question of it. No other alternative. That if anything else, the man before you is honorable and good – despite his violence, despite his sins, despite his fear, he is good. He would never abandon you to face this alone. But still, you’re afraid. Just as he is, just as he has been. So you say nothing, simply bring your other hand up to cup the back of his bent head. 

There are no words that could fit in the quiet space of your room in that moment – so swollen is it with all your shared fears, all the things left unsaid. You let him cry. 

-

Ellie finds him sitting on his front porch, guitar in hand, strumming gently – a mug sits by his side. There is no fight to be had now, this she knows. Perhaps no reconciliation, either – not at this moment. But there is much to be said, still, or even perhaps, merely silence to be shared. This is her olive branch. In the days since your disappearance, and then since you’d been found, recovering, she’s had a lot of time to think. To consider her choices. 

“Hey.” The look on his face as he watches her walk up guts her – so full of reluctantly glad surprise. 

“What’re you drinking?”

“Coffee.”

Of course. “Where’d you get that?”

“Uh… those people that came through last week. A little embarrassed as to what I had to trade to get it, but … it’s not bad.”

“Oh,” she’s slightly at a loss for what to say, how to continue. Their once easy banter seems so unreachable with so much laying between them. “You need to stop harassing Jesse about my patrols.”

“Okay,” he says succinctly – like he’s not going to take her incendiary bait. He looks away, considering what he’s about to say next. “Dina. Is she your girlfriend?”

And nope, she sure as fuck hadn’t been expecting that one. “No! She – That was just one kiss. It doesn’t mean anything,” she denies, referring to the kiss he’d accidentally witnessed last night when he was on his way home from trying to see you. “She just… I don’t know why she did that.”

He tilts his head contemplatively, gives her a knowing look. “You do like her.”

“I’m so stupid.”

“Look, I have no idea what that girl’s intentions are, but I do know that she would be lucky to have you.”

And she knows she told herself she didn’t come here to fight, but he’s so damn aggravating and nosy, she can’t help it. “You’re such an asshole!”

“I’m not trying to –”

“Just – just leave it.” She snaps, looking out at the dark road. “Have you been in to see her today?” Veering towards less conflictive ground. 

“Nancy didn’t let me in, said they were both restin’.” He drags his hand tiredly over his face, “Haven’t had much of a chance to talk at all.”

“But before… how’s she been?”

“On the mend – tired, I think. Nance said she’s recovering well. But quiet. She– she doesn’t much want to see me, to be honest …” Maria had said you’d been withdrawn. Not really wanting to see anyone besides Nancy and the baby.

“That was – When we couldn’t find her… Scared the fuck out of me.”

He looks down into his mug of coffee, his jaw shifting side to side, “Yeah… yeah. I– it was–” She knows he can’t discuss it, can’t even voice the terror that gripped him at the thought of losing you. Something about the confirmation of knowing how much he loves you, settles something within Ellie. Reinforces the resolve in her heart. 

“Not just for her though. I was scared for you too.” The look he gives her then – she sees that flicker of desolation she was so scared he’d be lost to forever if you’d not come back – if you’d died. There isn’t much left in Ellie that’s overly sentimental, but she could cry at the relief of knowing you’re okay, the both of you. 

“Kate’s cute as fuck,” she smiles. 

“She is… got those big blue eyes.”

“What are you gonna do? With them?”

“Not much I can do, I guess. ‘Cept take care of ‘em. Keep ‘em alive. If she’ll have me…”

“Love them,” she adds, and he hums in agreement, tilting his head a bit. No point in hiding it, he’s gone soft, everyone knows now, might as well embrace it. Put up a sign. “Well,” she continues, “We both know you’re good at doing that, at least,” her eyes are full of laughter, full of memories. “Taking care of misbehaving girls that can’t ever do what they’re told.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, kiddo. You listened sometimes.”

“Yeah…” she chuckles, “You’re right, there was the rare occasion.” Her grin is roguish.. 

“Guess I’ve got enough practice ‘bout now, don’t I?

She goes suddenly serious, “Do you ever feel ashamed? When you remember what you did?” The question is abrupt, as if she wasn’t expecting herself to ask, but couldn't help it. She could be referring to so many things, so many sins. 

He thinks about the day after Sarah died, when he’d been so ready to follow her to whatever end. His mind shies away from the memory – that is shame –  a wound healed over, but still tender if pressed on too harshly. But he considers it now, in light of her question, how the overwhelming feelings driving that choice had been acceptance in that instant. A readiness to be done with all that continuing in a world without his daughter promised. Fate had granted him the opportunity to flinch, a chance he’d then passed on as a gift to Ellie. No matter how she saw it, he’d given her a chance to flinch. Something perhaps, one couldn’t recognize had they never consciously held that cold gun in their hand, pressed it to the tender nook of their temple and looked their own mortality in the face. But he’d given it to her, and not even an entire life of reliving all he’d endured as of yet, could ever, ever make him regret that choice. A parent did what they could to give their child the gift of choice. That was, in the end, the only thing one could do. The gift of choice, something he now had and so arrogantly squandered. Birdie was his choice. Fate had given him a gift once again, now he had to consciously decide to flinch or not. 

“No. Never.” There is no doubt – no room for doubt. “I told you once, if I ever had the chance to do it again, I’d do it exactly the same.” There was a space where one could exist with their sins and not resent them. Joel knew it well now. There was only one road that had led him to this moment, to this place. He could not regret the decisions that’d brought Ellie to this life of peace and safety. That had brought him to your door. You had never felt like a sin. The sight of you, it made him calm, so free. There had been fear, too much of it, but never regret, never shame alongside your name.

“Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?” he asks her, and he can see the question takes her aback, a second of shock crossing her face. It’s all the answer he needs – for the thought to never have even entered her mind. She shakes her head, sharp and quick, “No.” She pauses, and then says, “Fuck your fear, Joel. If that’s what’s keeping you from her you have to let it go. It’ll be the thing to kill you in the end. Maybe not dead in the ground, but in a worse way.”

“I know…I know, Ellie.”

And so what if he had been afraid? In a world, a life, overrun with the worst possible outcome playing out in real time, what was one more terror? He realized it wasn’t the fear of loss that held him back. It was the fear of himself. Of his own inadequacy, his own monstrousness. Because he’d already lost you. Could feel the current loss of you, your absence, acutely. Like a gaping, putrid wound. The days you’d been missing, that he’d been so fucking terrified that he’d never see you again, that you were dead, as he searched desperately for you – he was already experiencing that which for so long was the reason for his denial. And he could think of nothing now that could be worse than not having you. Of knowing his little bird was existing out in the world and that he couldn’t touch you, hold you, kiss you. Fuck his fear indeed. 

What did it matter if the world was vast and cruel if, in the end, they had one another?

“I struggled a long time with surviving. And no matter what, you keep finding something to fight for, something to be brave for,” he repeats his long ago words to her.

“You keep going for family… And she’s family.”

“Yeah… she is.”

“All this, it can’t have been for nothing.”

“It’s not. It won’t be.”

Existing in a grave for all those years, only to be violently pulled awake by a forest fire of a little girl – it changed the nature of a man. His nature had been changed irrevocably. And he needed to give this new version of himself to you now, in its entirety. And what struck him most was that despite all this, despite all he’d changed, lost and grown, since the start of all this, since Sarah died – who he was hadn’t entirely been determined yet. There was still possibility within him. There was still hope for more. And you saw that, you’d always seen that. 

In a sudden startling way, he could perceive what he was, what he lacked, what he could be. You shared that perception; your vision of him was another gift. What was it about this sudden acute sense of self perception that was so close to madness, and how was it that suddenly, when you realized you were in love, it was as if you were able to see the world as it really was? Cordyceps had blanketed the earth in a film of death that he now saw in spectrums. There was a spectrum to death as it existed in the world, as what you allowed it to shape itself, and you, as. How did you perceive death – loss? How did you let it affect you when it inevitably touched your life? Was it to overwhelm you – or exist alongside you as simply another phenomena of nature? He could exist on that spectrum set about by nature or he could break free from it. Cordyceps – and all humanities’ basest desires it catered to – could go on existing, could continue to subjugate the world to its will, but he would break free from that subjugation of fear, of death, of failure, he would live his life now as he chose to. He could perceive with such clarity now what was real and what was not. His little bird was real and alive and waiting for him. This was no delusion, no farcical whim; it was a glance down into time – into the realities he’d once known and lived in, a world before calamity and fungus and dead little girls – and it wore the staggeringly beautiful face of you, a glance at the woman he loved. 

“She’s angry with me. I– I hurt her.”

“Hmm… True… but she isn’t like us… she’s good. Kind. She’ll forgive you. She understands you.”

“Perhaps,” he says, but he isn’t sure, is terrified of the alternative, will try and make it up to you for the rest of his life if you need him to. 

“Maybe time’ll be the thing to heal this wound” 

He pauses at that, “It wasn’t time that healed it… remember?” The memory of their past hangs, once again, heavy in the air, but perhaps now, in this moment, a bit lighter than before. 

She shakes her head, gives him a small smile, “I remember.”

 She’s quiet for a moment, pensive. He’d missed her so much. This easy casual nothingness between the two of them. Just being together, talking. And as he takes her in, her chin tipped to the breeze, eyes closed, he thinks: if he could have done it all again, he would have loved her better. Perhaps made better choices. But he could not have loved her more. 

How broken, how small he must have been, just a short time ago, to have found that thought so difficult to confess, even just to himself. 

“Go find her, Joel. Tell her what you need to tell her.”

Chapter IX

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

[barcalover86]

Drunk Confession- Pablo Gavi

Summary: After you drank a lot at some party, you confessed your feelings to Lewa and Pablo hears you.

You were with the Barca players at some party, celebrating the win of the season.

You were dating Gavi, and seeing him happy made you so proud of him. He worked hard, and finally, he had some time to have fun.

You told him before going to the party that you want him not to stay with you, but enjoy his friends' company. First, he didn't agree, but after you told him that you would celebrate together after, he was excited.

You are 18 and not used to alcohol that much. You drank sometimes, but even after one shot you would be a little drunk.

Today, you really wanted to enjoy and have fun with the players' girlfriend and wifes so you took more shots.

After the 3rd one, you weren't sore at all. You've never been drunk before, just a little dizzy, and this time, it was a little different.

You were now with Lewandowski, and you suddenly started to talk with him. He looked at you, and when he heard what you said, it broke his heart. He let you speak until you were done and after that he hugged you.

He hated seeing you cry because you were like his little child. You all the time got along so well with each other and had a nice relationship.

"I don't know anymore, Lewy. I miss it so much, and I think I regret giving up, but at the same time, I think it was the best decision. Somehow, I feel incomplete. I lived for sport. My passion for it was the next level, and seeing you guys a real team, supporting each other, having amazing couches that are encouraging you, having some nice training..it makes me sick that I didn't have the chance to do all of you do know" you spoke your heart

"Y/n, the decision you made was the best one, and you know why? You wanted what's best for your heart and mental health, and you shouldn't be disappointed because you wanted to be better. I know it was, and it is still hard to give up on your passion, I can't imagine myself giving up football yet, but you are strong and are allowed to make mistakes. What you've been through is a story that no one can tell, but you. Because of it, you are now who you are, an amazing talented girl with so much passion. It's hard to let things go, but you are young, and if you would ever want to go back, you still have time. And maybe not to do it in a professional way, but to enjoy it like you did when you were a kid. I know you miss competitions and your friends, but now you are here with us, and we will do anything to make you happy"

"Thank you, Lewy.." you smiled with tears in your eyes.

Sometimes, you felt sad because you didn't have the opportunity to be in a good and supportive team. You did 11 years of martial arts, and at the age of 16, you gave up because of your couch. He mentally abused you and manipulated you. He would shout at you and tell you that you are no one.

You've managed to be the World Champion at a young age because of your talent and hard work. A lot of people would tell you that you are a rear fighter, a Messi at this sport, but no one knew what you went through.

You hated going to training, and no one supported you, only your parents. They told you to give up because at some point you got sick and spent a few days at the hospital because of your overstress.

You were also badly injured, and when you told your couch about it, he told everyone that you were faking it.

You did a lot of recovery but found your strength to give up after being for so long in a toxic club.

The sport you did wasn't like football, where you could switch teams. You leave your team, you leave this sport.

It's been years, and you still miss the feeling of competition. You still look at some photos when you are still playing, and every time you get emotional.

You were thankful for being part of Barca and seeing how supportive everyone is here.

After you went home, still a little drunk (the reason you suddenly told your story for the first time), Gavi went to you and hugged you.

You were confused because he isn't a hug guy, but when he told you he heard your story, tears started to form again.

"I'm sorry you're getting through this, amor"

After you saw his eyes watering, you felt sorry for making him cry. He kissed you slowly and promised you that he won't ever leave you, and together you would get through it.

You felt happy for having a boy who cared for you.

" I also promise you, Pablo, that when you will feel what I felt, I will be by your side and give you advice " you told him and you both smiled.

Gavi took you in his arms and went showering together, making sure every time that you know how much he loves you.

This is a story from my life. Of course, it's a little different because I've never had a boyfriend or a Lewandowski in my life. I just want you guys to know that you can get over everything in your life and start to appreciate the good things that happened in that bad period. Take care, everyone! I love you❤️

[tgmsunmontue]

Upon which our souls touch 2/?

Hangster Fantasy!AU

SUMMARY

Tradition and the stories have been the same for thousands of years. Until Bradley and Jake came along and broke all the rules without ever speaking a word to one another...

PART ONE

--------------------------------------

PART TWO

                Bradley is carrying out a harvest of his herbs in the moonlight when he senses a dragon land in the meadow nearby. He keeps it clear and empty for that reason, not that it is common for him to have visitors arrive by dragon. However the dragon-kind themselves seek him out, seemingly content to allow him to touch and check them over even without their bonded-companion present. He wipes down the silver blade carefully and wraps it in a piece of soft leather and walks toward the clearing calmly. Haste can rile them, even when they’re waiting for him, not that this dragon would ever hurt him.

                The colors of his mother’s green and orange-dappled dragon are muted in the moonlight but he’d recognize Flurry anywhere. He prances playfully when he sees Bradley, nothing wrong there then. He’s reminded again how much Flurry casts him to a sunny day in early fall, when the leaves are just starting to turn from green to red, the day cool and crisp in the morning but still like summer at the peak of the day. His favorite time of year, although he can find perfect days in every season if the features are right.

                His mother is dressed for travelling. He doesn’t know if it is for the trip here, or whether she intends to continue travelling. She is over a thousand years old, the most travelled of everyone he knows, and even some of the elders say she is the most knowledgeable of the far-flung races, her smile and demeanor making friends wherever she goes. He also knows his lifetime is the longest she has spent in one place.

                “Hello sweetness…”

                “Momma…”

                “Oh Bradley. My little early bird. Come here.”

                He feels the tension bleed out of him as she wraps her arms around him and even though he now towers over her he still feels like a small child safe in their mother’s embrace, protected from the world. He lets her fuss over him a little, not that she does it too much anyway, just comments on the length of his hair braid and how it indicates how much time has lapsed since she last saw him. He can pick that something is wrong, she is herself but she is also not, and he’s always been more attuned to the health of people he cares about the most. He cannot pinpoint what it is though.

                “I’m sick sweetness…” Her words confirm his senses, but he still feels a flare of larger concern that he still can’t tell what it is.

                “What can I do? What is it?”

                “You cannot help with this. Not with this… my soul is heart-sore.”

                “What?” Bradley asks, looks back toward Flurry, who is now pouncing on the nightlight bugs as they flitter around the meadow.

                “I believe your father may by even sicker than I am.”

                “He’s alive?” Bradley asks, because he had always just assumed he’d died, and that was why his mother was so sad, had returned to her village to raise him.

                “Oh Bradley. I’m so sorry… yes. Of course he’s alive.”

                “You never told me.”

                “It… it was never my intention to make you believe he had passed… Oh. My two-world walker…” she murmurs quietly, hand pressing over the two sigils on his chest and Bradley looks at them with renewed interest.

                “Which two worlds?”

                “Your father’s and mine of course…”

                “And you’re soul-bonded with him?”

                “You wouldn’t have been possible if we weren’t… Your father is a Skiftandra. They are a shapeshifting race. His name is Nicholas. Nick. He is a beautiful soul Bradley. He can change into a Griffin. It's how I first met him. Up in the sky, flying.”

                “Shape shift?” Bradley asks, because he remembers the stories she used to tell when he was small, had believed they were only that, stories. He doesn’t know what a Griffin looks like, but it can obviously fly. Something both his parents can do while he is affixed firmly to the ground.

                “Yes. They were all different. Unique. Your father’s people have never needed to bond with the dragon-kind. He found it amusing that we did. Their dragon kind is different from ours as well… so strange but so beautiful at the same time.”

                "Why did you leave? If you were soul-bonded with him and he’s alive?"

                "To protect you, sweetness."

                "From what?"

                "Your father had enemies. They would have used you to get to him. They would have used me to get to him."

                “You’re going back to him…” Bradley realizes, her travelling clothes and equipment now making more sense.

                “I need to know what is going on. We have been apart far longer than we should have been.”

                “I can come. You don’t need to protect me anymore. I’m not a babe in arms. I can fight my own battles. Protect you.”

                “You think you can, but you are still a babe by their standards, and only just of age to ours.”

                He grits his teeth, reminds himself that she is his mother and will never believe him capable until she sees he is with her own eyes.

                He strokes the sigils on his chest.

                “You called me two world walker...”

                “Yes.”

                “I have walked and know one of these worlds. I wish to know the other.”

                She nods her head then, a single bow to acknowledge she has heard him and agrees with his request, he lets out a quiet breath of relief. He’d have hated to go against her wishes.

                “We can leave in the morning. Once you’re packed.”

                He returns the same single gesture, deeply respectful but looks up at her delighted laugh.

                “You father is going to be delighted to see you again.”

                “Tell me about him?”

                “Of course my early bird…”

                His mother talks as he finishes his harvesting and ties the herbs to the drying racks. Even if he is leaving tomorrow there are tasks to be done. He packs his travelling healing kit, smells each vial carefully and replaces those with newer and fresher bits from his main stores. He listens as she describes his father’s animal form and all he can envision is a very odd-looking dragon-kind. But he will see it with his own eyes soon enough.

Carole's chest sigil

PART THREE

[meetmyothersouls]

Back to u 4 tonight ?

I have worked my ass off on this so I really hope you guys love it!

Back To You

Jonah Hauer-King x reader

Warnings: memory loss, being drunk, throwing up, not proof read

Chapter 4

Jonah's POV

I sit in the library, leaning against my desk. I'm lost in thought, many of them. One of which is the information Jorge just threw at me. I scoff out loud even though no one is around to hear it. The idea of him taking y/n from me is so disgusting to me, it makes me sick to my stomach. I let him walk away unscathed only because I don't want y/n's new opinion of me to turn into a negative one.

Y/n. Then my thoughts go to her. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with a mixture of sadness, longing and love for her. I want our old life back so badly it hurts. I look around the library. It was her favorite room. One, because of all the books. I used to joke that she loved the books in this room more than me. Two, because of all the times we made love in here. I believe there's not one surface left untouched by-

A soft tap on the door brings me out of my daydream. I stand up straight, no longer leaning on my desk. It's Haven.

"Sorry, I was just looking for y/n."

"She's not with you?" I ask, immediately worried.

"No...I thought she was with you."

"Shit," I mutter under my breath. "Well, she's gotta be somewhere in the house. She doesn't know how to get anywhere else," I say, mostly to calm myself down.

Haven and I make our way down the hall, she's not too familiar with the layout of our house either, so she checks the downstairs amongst the guests Val invited, while I check the other two floors of our house. I wait and save my panic for when I'm totally out of sight. I check her room first, then the nursery; the two rooms I know y/n has seen with her own eyes. When those turn up empty, I scour the rest of the house. By the end of my search, I'm flying down the stairs and practically knock Haven over when I reach the bottom floor.

"No luck?" I ask breathless.

"No, but someone mentioned they saw her heading out with Val. Any thoughts on where they could be?"

I groan out loud, "I have an idea or two."

Y/n's POV

I'm downing my fifth shot, Val, Jorge, and several other people I don't know are chanting my name. I've never been much of a drinker, but according to Val, her and I go out and have drinks all the time. She shows me my favorite shots and drinks that we used to get together all the time and, to my surprise, I really like them. I apparently, lean towards the fruity ones with pineapple and strawberry purees. The shots are very bitter and nasty, but they burn going down which I kind of like.

"Okayyyy," I half yell/half slur. "Okay! I think I'm done."

Jorge and Val are talking, deep in conversation with one another and all of a sudden everyone is way too fucking close to me. The room is spinning and my heart is racing. It's too hot, my clothes are too tight, and I'm in England. I run out of the pub and the cool, now almost evening air hits me.

"I'mjustgonnagoonawalk," I call out to Val as the door to the pub swings shut. I wave to her as I turn the corner. I have no idea where I'm going and it's clear to me in my mind, but it doesn't stop me from walking on. The last...how many days has it been? Has been a whirlwind of emotions and information. I'm married, I was pregnant, I live in England and write for an apparently very prestigious magazine according to Val. For some reason the married thing and the pregnant thing have me laughing. I poke at my stomach. It's a little flabby and the tiniest bit sore, it's evident that something was there. That's when I notice that I'm not even wearing a wedding ring. I immediately feel kind of bad because of it. Jonah really is a nice guy and he clearly cares about me. And...I mean...he's very easy on the eyes. He's got the prettiest slightly curly hair, the bluest eyes I've ever seen. His skin is like this permanent sun kissed color that just occurs naturally. I start to wonder what his hands would feel like on my body and I'm reminded about how he grabbed the small of my back on the stairs today. I giggle out loud and have to grab a streetlamp post to steady myself. I look up and I laugh even harder, because I see him walking right toward me. I point to him and wave. Then he sees me, and he starts running. I'm almost on my knees by the time he gets to me. Jonah grabs me and pulls me against him.

"Thank god," he says breathlessly.

"You are real!" I giggle.

"What?"

"Wot?" I imitate his adorable British accent.

"My god, y/n are you drunk?!"

"Yes, Jonah, it appears thatIam. Val and Jorge introduced me to some verygood drinks."

"Jorge?"

"Mhmm. Jorge." I start to walk and Jonah follows. I feel a bit better about walking now, since he at least knows where we're going.

"He didn't...try anything did he?"

"Pffft."

"Y/n, I'm serious."

"Me too. I wouldn't have let him anyway. You're way hotter than he is." I'm a few steps ahead of him and I start to cross the street.

"Whoa!" Jonah yells as he pulls my wrist. My back is against him now and I'm very aware of how his body feels pressed up against mine. I make an effort to press harder against him, and if he notices he doesn't let on, but I wish he did. "Y/n, you can't just walk into oncoming traffic, Darling."

"Darling?" I look up at him, but he's looking forward, his eyes focused on the crosswalk, but he's got the slightest smile on his face.

Jonah's hand is resting on my lower abdomen, holding me protectively. It gives me a flutter in my stomach that I'd normally try to push away, but don't have the mental capacity to right now. He waits for the cross walk to change and when it does, he moves his hand. That's when I grab it and run across the street. We bump into a couple that's walking our direction and I accidentally knock the woman's coffee out of her hands.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry!" Jonah calls over his shoulder as I pull him along.

I'm doubled over in laughter as we make it to the sidewalk while Jonah stands next to me, his hands on his hips in disbelief. His mouth hangs open adorably, as he looks at me like he's seeing me for the first time. Then he's laughing. Hard. It's the happiest I've seen him look since I woke up in that hospital room a few weeks ago.

"You're really a piece of work, you know that?" Jonah says.

"Oooooh, is that a park? Come on!" I take off again, dodging couples and dog walkers and people on mopeds and bikes. Then, I'm on grass it's slightly damp and I feel it through my canvas shoes. It reminds me of the parks in New York. In the distance there's a pond with a fountain in the middle and several swans swimming against a sunset. It looks like a painting.

Jonah finally catches up, his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. "Where is everyone?" I ask.

"Huh?"

"There's not a lot of people here."

"Ah, yes. They're all at home, most likely."

I'm so focused on the scenery in front of me I don't even look at Jonah. "But it's so beautiful."

"Yes. You are."

"What?"

Jonah's staring right at me when I whip my head around. He clears his throat and looks off into the distance. "Yes it is. You know it's funny you came here."

"Why's that?"

"Well," Jonah says, as he begins to walk, "this is where you like to come when you need inspiration for writing. Sometimes I'll find you here laid out on a blanket with a book or a laptop. One time, ahh maybe two years ago, I couldn't find you anywhere. You left your cell at home, I checked every bookstore in London and you were nowhere to be found. I was about to call the police, when I drove past the park and saw a tiiiiny figure way out in the middle of the field."

"Was it me?"

"Mhm. It was. You came out here to read and guess what you did?"

"What?"

"You fell asleep!"

"No way!"

"Yes! You had me worried sick," Jonah laughs. He's still looking out into the distance like he can see the memory in the skyline. And suddenly I feel terrible. I feel dizzy and lightheaded and sick to my stomach. Maybe it's all the alcohol or maybe it's because he clearly loves me so much and I can't recall all those feelings myself.

"You okay?" Jonah asks when he finally looks at me.

"Y-yeah, just need to sit down."

Jonah grabs my hand and leads me to one of the park benches. We sit down and my nausea calms down slightly.

"Jonah?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry." I turn to face him and my breath hitches in my throat. His face is close to mine, much like when we were on the staircase today. He's so beautiful up close I just want to touch his face.

"What for?" Jonah whispers.

"For not being what I was before."

"You're still my y/n, memories or not. You're mine and I'm yours."

"But...but how could you still like me the same knowing I don't have the memories you do or..."

"Y/n, you are my wife. I love you. I'm sorry if that overwhelms you. You don't have to say it. I know you don't love me. Why would you? You don't know me. But I've got a month to make you fall in love with me again and I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen. And even if you never love me again," he swallows hard, and I can feel his breath on my lips as he sighs. His face is so close to mine. He licks his lips and I can't help but lean in. I press my lips against his. He kisses me back softly then pulls away, just as I expect him to.

"Y/n, I'm sorry I just...I want you to be in the right state of mind before I kiss you and-"

Jonah doesn't finish his sentence before I'm throwing up on the ground in front of us.

"Your shoes!"

"It's okay, don't worry about them," Jonah says as he's pulling my hair back. I throw up again and again until my vision goes out and I lose everything around me.

I wake up and it's daylight, but it must be early. I'm wearing new clothes, which is just and oversized t-shirt, and my shoes are off. I'm in the same bed that I slept in the night before. The room is filled with that early morning bluish hue. It's making the room feel cozy and soft and cool.

I sit up in the bed, still no memories...other than kissing Jonah, him rejecting me and then throwing up all over his shoes. I groan and run my hand down my face just as the bathroom door opens and Jonah walks out wearing only a towel around his waist, his hair and body are wet from the shower he must have just taken.

And suddenly I'm filled with even more regret than before.

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