#the dishes really need to be washed and I'm too weak to do them

[wolflover33100aj]

Me: *up all night with a bad cold, runny nose, freezing, wearing 3 jackets and a long sleeve shirt, by a heater most of the night, sore throat, not really feeling any food, don't want to eat,legs don't want to stand, too weak*

[garciaasfluffypen]

i'm not stubborn

pairing: jemily x reader word count: 1.9k warnings: y/n is stubborn but doesn't want to admit it request from this ask

it had been two weeks since hotch put you on bed rest. you were going absolutely crazy. 

you, in a moment of weakness, tripped during an unsub chase and found yourself with a pretty bad sprained ankle. sure, you were able to hobble around quantico on your crutches and stay behind to help garcia, but it wasn’t the same. you loved your computer whiz of a best friend, you really did, but nothing beat being out in the field fighting bad guys in person. you hated the absolute worry that went through you every time your team went to the locations where the potential unsubs were. it bothered you that you weren’t there to help, smirking at morgan when you expertly picked a lock instead of having to kick the door down. or body blocking reid so he didn’t get hit by an unsub shoving a dresser in your direction in an effort to get away, not realizing that matt was behind him. and to be quite frank, you missed your team. 

garcia had sent you home roughly four hours ago, telling you that if she needed your expertise she would call you. you knew it was probably because the team was assisting in a raid that you longed to be there for. you had been doing what the kids these days were calling “rotting” on the couch since you got home at lunch, only getting up to weakly hobble over to the sink to place your dirty dishes inside. but you could only rot for so long before you started getting antsy. 

it was difficult without your girlfriends in the apartment with you, because at least when they were home you always had something going on in the background. it was too quiet without them here, even with dateline nbc playing over the soundbar that matt and kristy got you for a housewarming gift. for a moment you considered calling kristy to come over, but you knew her kids would be running up a storm and that it was hard for her to find last minute babysitters these days. from what you remember, the three she usually cycled through all went off to college. and if you were being honest, garcia did not have the time to vet any of the new potential people. 

with a huff you looked around the apartment, deciding now that your need to clean trumped anything else going on within your healing ankle. with a crutch tucked under one arm, you went over to the front closet where you kept all the cleaning supplies and decided that the loves of your life deserved to come home to a clean apartment. it was the least that you could do for them. they had done so much for you over the past year, it was only fair that you tried to do something nice for them before they came home. and if all went well with the raid that had happened prior to garcia sending you home, your girls would be home by dinner. 

that reminded you that you needed to pull out the chicken that you were planning on cooking for dinner tonight, and grab the pasta shape you wanted. and while you were in the kitchen you probably should unload the dishwasher and reload it with the dishes you created while the team was in maryland. which then reminded you that you were almost out of dishwasher pods, despite the fact that you used them rarely since you were out of the apartment so much for work. it was crazy how fast the little packs went away when you were stuck at home for days with no end in sight. and besides, hand washing dishes was so annoying. it was so easy to just pop them in the dishwasher and call it a day. turning around to make sure you wrote down to grab more dishwasher pods, you accidentally hit one of the potted plants with your crutch. 

cursing, you looked down to see a nice big pile of dirt where the pot had fallen over. thankfully the pot itself didn’t break, but a bunch of the dirt was now on the white marble tiles of the kitchen and emily would be really upset with you if she came home to her plant on the ground. you picked harold up as gently as possible, placing him back where he belonged next to the edge of the breakfast nook. sergio, as if sensing your distress, came and rubbed up against your ankle before deciding that was the perfect time to roll around in the dirt. tears of frustration pooled in your eyes as you used your crutch to shoo sergio away from the pile. you just wanted them to come home to a clean apartment and everything was going wrong. 

you hobbled over to the bathroom, completely forgetting everything that happened in the kitchen to turn on the water to bathe sergio. there was no way you were letting emily’s pride and joy be dirty when she got home. when the water level was enough, you went back out to the living room and grabbed one of sergio’s catnip toys, knowing it would get him into your arms within a moments notice. you squeaked it once and then again, smiling fondly at him as he hopped up into your arm. you dropped the toy, turning around and heading towards the bathroom. sergio, the smart man he is, chose that exact moment to start screaming and clawing at the crutch under your arm as he looked for his toy. 

“fucking- fuc- AAAAH!”

you threw your crutch down in fury as sergio struggled against your hold, almost as if he knew exactly where you were taking him. was it a bad idea to walk without your crutch? probably. but sergio was dirty and you needed to clean him. sure, it definitely didn’t help that you never gave him a bath before, but bathing a cat couldn’t be that hard… right? 

“ok buddy, we can do this. you’re dirty. you gotta be clean when mom comes home.” 

bending down so you were on your knees, you slowly started scooping water onto his back as he screamed the cat equivalent of bloody murder at you. scrubbing the bubbles into his coat, you slowly put him closer to the water before you heard the faint click of the front door. 

shit. 

sergio used your momentary lapse in holding him semi-tightly  to jump out of your hands, running out of the bathroom towards the sound of emily’s voice. you froze, not entirely sure how to handle the situation. they weren’t supposed to be home for at least another two hours. you thought you’d have more than enough time to finish cleaning before they came home. did hotch send them home early? 

inwardly cursing to yourself, you pushed yourself into a standing position using the edge of the tub, hobbling out into the main room. emily stared at you, a look of disappointment on her face. you couldn’t find the words to explain what was going on, instead folding yourself into a shell and hoping that she wouldn’t try to get you to say anything because if you did you most definitely would start crying. you then realized that your pants were covered in dirt and your shirt was soaked with the bath water from your attempt to bathe sergio. you shifted to your good leg, leaning up against the corner of the wall so you could take some of the pressure off your bad foot. 

“what’s the meaning of all this?” emily’s eyebrows raised. “why is sergio covered in bubbles?” 

jj walked through the door, grocery store bags in her hands. “is there a reason the vacuum is out?” 

“you’re supposed to be on bedrest.” emily let out a sigh. 

“lovey,” jj set the grocery bags down on the table. “come ‘ere, lets sit you down on the couch.” 

“‘m tired of sitting down!” you whined, accidentally stomping your bad foot in your miniature tantrum moment. “i don’t wanna sit anymore!” 

emily gave you a pointed look. “bedrest means not doing anything strenuous.” 

“i don’t wanna just sit around.” you pouted. “i wanted to do something.” 

“and i don’t really care about that.” your face fell as emily’s disappointment showed. “why were you up and moving?” 

jj sighed, coming over to stand next to emily. she had an inkling that you would be going a bit stir crazy, considering garcia told them she sent you home early. part of her wanted to go to you and just scoop you up in a hug and tell you it was okay, but the other more logical part of her knew that she couldn’t be that person right now. maybe in five minutes, but they needed to make sure you understood how important healing properly was. she knew that feeling of being cooped up all too well, and how stir crazy it made someone feel. of course, she just wanted you to feel comfortable, but she knew emily would need to be slightly disappointed in you for a few minutes before she realized what was going on. it was just the way it worked, most of the time. 

“tell me what happened.” 

you swallowed. “i wanted to clean the apartment for you so you didn’t have to do it when you got home today so i started cleaning. and then i knocked down harold by mistake and sergio started rolling around in the dirt so i wanted to clean him off and then-” 

“so you thought it was a good idea to what, walk around without your crutches?”

“it was hard, okay?” your pent up annoyance started getting to you as the tears fell from your eyes. “i didn’t want to feel useless.” 

jj automatically broke and went up to you, pulling you in for a hug. you dug your head into the crook of her neck as you let her wrap her arms around you, ultimately making it so you didn’t have to put much weight on either of your feet. you let jj scoop you up and bring you back to the couch, groceries forgotten on the table as she adjusted you both so you were on her lap. 

“it’s okay, lovey. i know. we just don’t want you to get more hurt, okay?” 

“i know.” you pouted. “i got bored. is emmy mad at me?”

jj gave emily a pointed look. “i don’t know, is emmy mad at you?” 

“no,” emily sighed as she came over to the couch. “but jj is right. we don’t want you making it worse.” 

“i was being careful. i promise.” 

“we don’t doubt that, love.” emily placed a kiss to the top of your head. “after you have your recheck next week, maybe we’ll let you do some more things, okay?” you nodded. “good.” 

“‘m sorry.”

“don’t be sorry.” jj’s hand rand through your hair. “it’s okay. do you wanna watch a movie? hotch gave us the weekend off.” 

“yes please. can we watch haunted mansion? the one with eddie murphy?”

emily chuckled. “of course we can, lovey. i’ll go get the popcorn, okay?”

“okay.” 

you smiled, snuggling back into jj’s side. your girls were back and you had them for the whole weekend? maybe it was worth it to get a little wild. 

maybe. 

[synthetickitsune]

Hey how are you??

I saw that your request were open and i wanted to ask for jeonghan, like we know he holds things in his hands because it brings him comfort as he said, so do you think he'll hold his partner's chest, tummy, etc ??

It's not even because of lust or something even if he could tease like he usually does and pinch it's just for comfort and to feel his partner's warm.

Btw don't forget to stay hydrated bye (⁠･���ω⁠･⁠)⁠つ

Hey, I'm good! This was such a cute request - Jeonghan really would play with his s/o's hands, hair, or just hold them anywhere he can for comfort, he'd be so soft </3

Take care, anon! I hope you'll like this!

Jeonghan (Seventeen) | Holding you comfort | 0.6k | gn!reader

Are you always this soft and warm? Or is he just melting against you, into you, you into him. Jeonghan doesn’t know but as he rests, draped over your back, he might as well be in heaven. You’re just so… yeah, soft, warm. Perfect. Your shoulder is the best pillow he ever laid his head on and your waist was simply made for his hands to hold on to. His fingertips keep brushing against your tummy and he notices you tensing up every time they do. He’s too tired to tease properly, but maybe just a little…

“Hannie,” you warn, not sternly. It’s more of a sigh, not a tired one and he’s grateful that you’re barely ever exasperated with him - even if he doesn’t make it easy for you. It’s just a sound of acknowledgement, one that comes with living with Jeonghan and his antics for a long time. 

He smiles, kisses your shoulder before he moves his hands from your waist to slip under your shirt and rest on your soft stomach. He’s just tired, so tired. But his mind can’t seem to stop racing, thoughts refuse to slow down and he needs to be comforted. And you need to wash the dishes so this is a good compromise. He likes that you always indulge him.

He kneads with his fingers gently, applying barely any pressure against the softness, like he’s just trying if he can still move his fingers. He tries to see your expression, cracks an eye open but the angle is not in his favor. He figures you’d tell him to stop if you wanted him to anyway. It’s not like he’s doing much, some vulnerable part of his mind argues, he’s not hindering you at all so it should be alright. He just feels a little fragile and touching you warms him right to his bones, your comforting body heat seeping through his body as he keeps holding onto you.

It’s not his fault that you make him feel so safe he drifts off a little. Not exactly to sleep, just… away. He barely feels his hands moving, massaging your flesh gently and running his hands over your tummy. It’s just that the friction creates even more warmth. Not his fault. He just needs this.

“Hannie,” your voice registers in his brain again, another warning, and it makes him disoriented for a second before he realizes his hands slid up to your chest.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, laughing quietly as he soothes his hands back down and lets them settle over your stomach again. He kisses your neck, makes a soft apologetic sound. “Better? Please don’t kick me out.”

His voice is so breathy, exhaustion obvious in every syllable, and yet it sounds like it’s dripping honey. You appreciate the warmth on your back and the tender affection as much as he needs it. You’d hope he knows that.

“I won’t,” you promise, “Just give me a minute or two and we can go to bed?”

“As long as you need,” he murmurs, gratefully rubbing his cheek on your shoulder. His arms squeeze you in a weak hug before going limp again, safe for his hands still kneading at your tummy. He wonders why it helps him calm down so much to play something with his hands, why you in particular are the best stress relief. He’s in no state to figure it out right now, though. Not when he feels so safe and distanced from everything and you’re his only anchor to the world.

[lialacleaf]

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 4

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

You were beginning to feel like Simon was hiding something. When he went out on missions he was insistent that you didn’t contact him. At all.

You never once wondered if there was another woman involved, Simon was too good to you for it to be that.

He was just so closed off when it came to the topic of work, and you weren’t sure why. Maybe he was battling PTSD, and trying not to let it color your relationship.

It had been six months since you had married Simon, two of which he’d spent deployed somewhere. Your parents had asked if you were coming home for the holidays, and you told them you would be working.

They still believed you had a job. In a way you did. When Simon wasn’t home you did light house chores, now that Dr. Radcliffe had cleared you for more movement.

Your leg was still weak, and running was out of the question. You’d begged Simon to let you get a dog but he’d bit his lip, given you a pained look, and explained that it wasn’t fair to the animal if you couldn’t care for it properly.

You’d nodded in agreement but it had hurt all the same. You were lonely when he was gone.

“So what are we doing for the holidays?” You asked as Simon washed the dinner dishes and handed them to you to be put away.

He shrugged as he scrubbed pasta sauce off one of the plates. “Haven’t celebrated in a while,” he admitted, handing you the next clean dish.

“Do you ever visit your family?” You asked.

“Have you ever been to Cambridge?” He went about scrubbing the cup your tea was in.

“I’ve never been to the UK, just the parts of Europe the 141 has taken me. Is that where you’re from?” You asked in excitement.

“No, I grew up in Manchester,” he said, passing you the cup.

“Is your family in Cambridge now?” You asked, feeling as if the conversation had gotten slightly off topic.

“No.”

You blinked in confusion. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to spend the holidays in Manchester with your family?”

“It doesn’t have to be Cambridge, London is nice too,” he added, drying his hands on the spare dish towel. “We’ve got a few weeks to decide anyhow.” He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before disappearing into the bathroom.

You gaped slightly, blinking in confusion. What just happened? Had he really just swept your questions about his family under the rug with the distraction of a holiday vacation?

Maybe it was only fair. You’d made no effort to introduce Simon to your parents, but that was different. You were a daughter, not a son. If your parents found out their little baby girl had been injured, and married off to some strange man, your father would blow a fuse.

You knew very little about Simon though. The only thing you knew about him was his strange relationship with Ghost. Why was someone as sweet as Simon even mates with someone like Ghost?

~

Simon had started taking you into town once a week. He didn’t like to keep you cooped up, and Dr. Radcliffe had warned him you’d end up in trauma therapy if he kept you isolated during recovery.

Simon was relieved you didn’t display much interest in going to the mall. You were perfectly happy to go to the park and pet dogs, or go to the bookstore for hours on end.

You were begging to accumulate a small library, and sooner or later he’d need to build you a bookshelf.

“Out for the weekly book haul I see,” Jesse, the store owner said as you approached her counter, most of your books in Simon’s arms. You grinned at her as she scanned your latest finds. “You’re practically keeping me in business at this point.”

You shrugged and gave Jesse a bright smile. “You had new stuff in the gardening section, thought it might be helpful for the herbs we just planted,” you said, flashing Simon a grin.

He didn’t give you much of a reaction, but that was normal when he was in public. He wasn’t exactly fond of strangers, but he tolerated Jesse for the free cups of tea she bestowed on the two of you when you sat down to read in her cafe.

She’d never asked for the details of your relationship with Simon, but she always chuckled softly when he handed over his debit card without so much as a grumble for your somewhat expensive taste in books. A man that supported his partner's love of books was a good man in her opinion.

Jesse placed your books in a bag and handed them to Simon with a smile, unbothered by his flat expression and aversion to talking more than what was necessary.

“Have you decided where you want to go for Christmas yet?” He asked as he helped you load into his truck.

“Maybe we should stay home this year. I was just thinking it’d be harder to travel with my leg, and you already don’t like crowds, I can’t imagine how busy London must be this time of year…” you trailed off as Simon buckled into the driver’s seat. “But I would like to put up a tree!” You added.

Simon raised a brow at you as if he were amused by your declaration. “A tree?”

“Yeah! A Christmas tree! And we could have some of your teammates over-“

“They’ll be with their families,” he stated quickly.

Your smile fell. Oh. Right. “Maybe just the Captain then?”

Simon bit his lip but nodded. Price was aware of the situation, and the least likely to spill the beans. He supposed inviting his Captain over for a holiday meal would be alright.

“Speaking of family,” you began carefully, “Can we stop by the post office next week? I’d like to ship my parents' Christmas presents,” you requested softly.

Simon glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Would you like to see your family?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“No, I…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“You haven’t told them.” It wasn’t a question. He’d heard your phone calls with them. They still thought you were working for Price.

“It’s…it’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. It’s just that I don’t want them to worry, and I know that they will.” Simon nodded, grasping your hand gently in his. “I’ll figure something out…eventually.”

“I have to go for a mission next week, but I’ll be back before Thanksgiving. We can put up the tree when I get back. I’ll…leave the truck with you, you can make it to town on your own?” He asked.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to even offer, but now that you thought about it, it was a little ridiculous to expect you to stay put while he was gone. It was your left leg that was injured after all, you could still drive.

“Yeah, I know the way. Thanks, Simon,” you said, offering him a brilliant smile.

“Just be careful,” he reminded you. He’d leave a pistol with you just in case. The holidays were always more dangerous. He was starting to regret not getting you that dog. He would have to look into putting up a fence, but that was a long term project that he’d need a longer break from work to accomplish. Like hell he was gonna pay some stranger to come out to his home where his wife was to do the job.

Once the truck was parked and your books were unloaded, Simon went about doing his chores while you made lunch. At some point you heard the buzz of his saw outside. He seemed to always have some sort of project going.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the other night as you went about piling chicken salad on two croissants. Why was he so closed off concerning his family?

You eyed you bedroom door, wondering if you should just leave it alone, or put your detective skills to work.

You left your plates on the counter as you slipped into your bedroom. Simon didn’t keep many personal items, therefore your nightstand was always a little more cluttered than his between your laptop, medications, and other odds and ends.

You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking for. All you really knew about Simon was his name and that he’d grown up in Manchester. Your search would likely yield little result.

At least that was what you thought until you were starting at a death record. A death record for Simon Riley, bearing the same date of birth and identification information that was on your marriage certificate.

“Y/n?” You jumped, your head shooting up to see Simon in his sweaty work clothes standing in the doorway. “Gonna hop through the shower before lunch…everything alright?” He asked, noticing how pale you’d gone.

“I…um, yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You sputtered, closing your laptop screen. “I’ll go finish lunch,” you said, limping back into the kitchen.

Simon watched you, his head cocked to the side, before he shrugged, and stripped down to get a shower.

You tried to ignore the knots forming in your gut. Simon Riley was dead, and you had no unearthly clue who this man was. Did Ghost know? Had he unwittingly sent you right into the arms of someone dangerous, or was Ghost well aware of who Simon really was?

Your hands shook as you went about finishing the lunch preparations, and you quietly set the table, hyper aware of the other person in the house.

Simon was still in the shower, you had time to go back for your laptop. You quickly made your way into the bedroom, lifting the screen as you sat on the bed.

Your eyes scanned over the obituary with concern. Simon Riley…served in the royal army…died in a fire…no body…wait…no body?

You scrolled down a bit until you got to the photo at the bottom of the page. It was your Simon. You felt your throat tighten.

Why was your Simon supposedly dead? It made no sense. The man in the picture, albeit a little older, was currently showering in the bathroom.

You scanned through the rest of the obituary, noticing the mention of his family. Each name was highlighted, and you risked clicking on the name of the previous Mrs. Riley.

You felt like you were going to hurl when you were greeted with an even more morbid obituary. His entire family was gone. Murdered. Stolen right out from under him. It suddenly made sense. His overprotective nature was simply a trauma response. It still didn’t explain the falsified death certificate, but it was a start.

It wasn’t until you were staring into the photographed eyes of Tommy Riley that it clicked.

Tommy had brown eyes, practically identical to Simon’s. There was one other person you knew of with those eyes. One other person who’s voice sounded so similar to Simon’s, even if it was a little rougher.

Was Tommy…Ghost?

AN: OOOOOH Ya'll excited? We get spicy next chapter...

Tag List:

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@zzariyahchan @gaida-511 @misshoneypaper @soldierlass @dazaiscum @mockerycrow @kaysav608 @classygardencroissantcolor @innerskylover @kristalhi @hotaruteba @tzutology @sushiumex @l3xiluve @immajustlikeok

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@novausstuff @copiasratscheese @i-feel-violated @itsagrimm

[smolbean12]

Dating Headcanons

Jujutsu Kaisen

Nobara and Maki's here

Itadori and Megumi's here

Sukuna and Naoya's here

☆ Gojo Satoru ☆

First of all, all the best. You really need it.

He's a menace.

Will wake you up at 3am and ask you stuff like "Do you think bugs will take over the world someday? They're tiny but I'm really scared of them."

"Satoru what the actual fu-?"

He would mostly only date someone if he was 100% sure that they could protect themselves or if he could be there for them.

But if he did start liking someone seriously, he would not cheat. He has found the one and there is no reason to drive them away.

He acts happy and carefree in front of others but in front of his lover he crumbles.

He's able to be weak for once and cry and cry and cry. please hug him, he deserves it.

Sometimes he gets really whiny and cuddly and won't let you go even if you both cuddled for the whole day.

"I got you some souvenirs from my mission!"

You take him to meet your parents and he manspreads the entire couch. So, your dad has to bring a chair from the dining table and sit on it. Asks your dad stupid questions to annoy him. "Why can't we just print more money?" everyone pretends not to notice the TV remote chucked at him

Flirts with your grandma. She loves him.

Eats the dessert your mom made and only the dessert. Your dad has to warn him about diabetes. i wonder if he has a lot of cavities

Your mom and grandma really love him but your dad hates his guts.

He's just a 6'3 tall babie who likes sweets and you :)

☆ Geto Suguru ☆

When I tell you this man is boyfriend, husband and baby daddy material.

He is THE man. The only man ever. gojo you lucky lucky man

Treats you SO WELL that you start thinking he's imaginary 'cause no way anybody is THIS perfect.

This is the Geto Suguru before defecting btw.

Never forgets any of the important dates like your birthday, your mom's birthday etc etc

"Hey, isn't it your second cousin's dog's birthday today?"

Lots of friendly banter. He looooves giving you silly little nicknames. He looks at you lovingly and goes, "My little tolerable monkey" jkjk

He's a human heater. Always warm no matter the weather. You wouldn't even need a blanket when you sleep next to him. He will put his arm and leg around you and snuggle his face in your hair.

You weren't scared at all to introduce him to your parents. He instantly becomes your family's favorite and they forget about you and keep Geto forever :(

Helps your mom in cooking dinner, setting the table and washing the dishes. Helps your dad to fix the light bulb and engages him in deep conversations.

Helps you wash your hair when you're feeling too tired. Will also cook you your favorite food and try to cheer you up.

Sometimes he gets really angry during arguments but he always makes sure to think things over and apologize if he said something hurtful to you. He makes sure the issue is solved and that the both of you are happy.

The best boyfriend to ever boyfriend. except he became evil and died

reblogs are appreciated :)

Work by: @smolbean12

[catherinnn]

fight-stopper

after eddie and reader move in together on a little apartment of their own, they start fighting more often over household routinary things, to prevent this, they find the perfect fight-stopper.

warnings: SMUT +18, oral (f receiving), very suggestive material, domish Eddie, domestic and stablished relationship obviusly, cursing.

Eddie had just came home from work after a hard stressful day, he went to the kitchen to make himself some dinner only to be greeted with all the dishes you had used to cook, unwashed, one on top of the other in the sink waiting for someone to clean them. he walked back to the living room where you were laying on the couch reading peacefully as if the kitchen wasn't an entire mess.

"sweetheart, did you eat already?" he asked faking patience.

"Yeah, I cooked for both of us so you could just come back and eat, I know how tired you come back on Mondays" you said.

"That's... sweet, very thoughtful, but do I have to clean all the mess too? I mean, I know I'm not one to talk, but I at least do the dishes after cooking"

"No, I know but I was gonna wash them later, I really don't want to do that right now"

"Yeah, you never want to do them, I always end up doing the dishes, sometimes when I didn't even eat!"

"I'm sorry-"

"You were just waiting for me to come back and offer to clean them, weren't you?"

you couldn't deny that, he had caught you on that. you could be sounding a little childish or spoiled but you hated doing the dishes.

"I can't believe you, you're an adult now, you can't..."

he kept on complaining, and this wasn't the first fight you were having since you moved in. you wished it would be like the start of your relationship where all that mattered was sex and cuddles, being close to each other all the time. And that's when an idea popped into your head. if you had learned something about Eddie since you started dating was his love for you boobs, his absolute weakness if he had one.

so you decided to use that against him, it was all for the sake of stopping the fights really. you pulled your shirt up just enough so he could see them and maybe forget about the damn dishes.

and so he did, he stopped talking mid-sentence and stared at your chest.

"Is this how you want to handle this? alright" he ran to you and picked you up on his shoulder leading you to your room.

that's where this fight-stopper started and you both learned to use it to your conviction.

"EDDIE!" He heard you yell from the bedroom.

he cringed because he knew what this could be about and walked to you.

"Yes, princess?" he asked with his best puppy face.

"look at this MESS! you can't leave the bedroom like this, you're not living in your own room alone anymore, this stresses me out so much and you know that!"

he was looking for a Metallica shirt this morning, but he couldn't find it, so in desperation he started to throw everything out of the closet until he found it and then he just left, leaving all the pile of clothes on the floor.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"You have to be kidding me..."

as he heard you complain about his mess, he knew there was just one thing that would make you forget about it.

he walked to be in front of you and fell to his knees, he started leaving kisses on your thighs and repeated telling you how sorry he was. moving upwards with the kisses on your leg until he had his face under your skirt, with his hand he moved your panties to a side and started kissing your pussy. licking your clit just the perfect way to make every thought in your head fly away.

but one of his favorites so far was when he was showering one morning.

"Eds, please I need the bathroom too! you're taking too long!" you yelled from outside.

"I'm showering, y/n!" He responded and kept massaging the shampoo on his hair.

That was until he heard the bathroom door opening.

"y/n?" he called you.

you didn't respond this time, just undressed yourself and got in the shower too, you couldn't be late to work.

It's safe to say that you got there late anyways, but at least it wasn't because of a fight. and you got there with a satisfied look on your face.

maybe it wasn't the healthiest way of dealing with the problems you had on a day-to-day life. but the living together could be difficult to adjust to, and this was a method you kept using to prevent angry fighting and talk about the problem a lot more relaxed later.

[heartilywrites]

hiii i hope you’re having a good day! could you do a korra x insecure reader fic and korra just comforts her? thank you!

⠀⠀⠀⠀،، 𝓑ad Habit ; Korra

request guide | masterlist

resume: Korra wants to assure you from bad thoughts.

content warning: fluff ; if you squint there's angst too ; Korra x fem!reader ; established relationship ; self-doubt ; slight description of self-harm and blood (r bites her nails) ; r is a bender, but I didn’t specify her nation ; no use of y/n

wc: 1.1k

a/n: hello love <33 im sorry i took too long with your request, i was trying to think of a situation since you didn’t specify one,, but i hope i met your expectations!!! THANK U FOR REQUESTING, ENJOY :D

“ Might be so sad, might leave my nose running... I just hope she don't wanna leave me.

Sounds of clipping filled the room, your thumb nail fighting for its life against your teeth while you were zoned out on your thoughts.

How does one has to act after such mean comments? All and every single one of them talking about you and your relationship with Korra; 'she's clingy' 'the avatar deserves better' 'she's the worst bender I've ever seen, why is she in the group?' 'she's not even that pretty' echoed in your head since coming back home. You weren't even supposed to hear that conversation, but somehow ended up doing so at a fruit stand after going shopping to bake Korra a fruit cake.

Were you really that clingy with her? It's not even like you were on top of her 24/7... right? She would've say something if she didn’t like it, right? Why were you doubting her? She's the best partner you could've ask for, there's no reason for you to doubt her, why were you? why? wasn't your relationship based on communication? You don't need to doubt her, stop doubting her, they maybe caught something you hadn't, a flaw, was it your bending style? Were you too weak? Were you—

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey, darling, I'm home!” the southerner's voice pulled you out of such destructive thoughts. You took your finger out of your mouth.

A slight metal taste was recognized in your tongue and looking down to your nail it was starting to make way for a thread of dark crimson. You were quick to hide it behind your back when the girl opened the bedroom door, such a small smile painted your face.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hi, love, how was your day?” you asked, eyes following the brunette while she dropped to your side on the bed and hugged your waist, sighing really loudly.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Shitty, work, avatar problems, you know.” Korra snuggled better and left a tiny kiss on your cheek. “But now I'm here with you, that's all I needed.”

There you had it, she could never think badly of you. How could you ever do that to her? Maybe they were right, maybe you didn't deserve her in the first place, maybe—

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey... Did you hear me?” a hand was shaken in front of your eyes after zoning out once more, you shook your head.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Sorry, what did you say?” you asked a bit embarrassed, your face feeling warmer.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I said if you wanted to eat out tonight so we don't have to wash dishes.” she repeated, seating back up now facing you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh! Yeah! I would love to, choose wherever you want.” another weak smile, Korra frowned and narrowed her eyes after.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What happened while I was gone?” she directly asked, her arms crossed on top of her chest.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Nothing!” you were a little too fast to answer, after clearing your throat you continued. “Nothing happened, all is well, I'm okay, you are okay, we are okay, let's go eat dinner!”

You tried to get up with such hurry, but Korra was quicker to take your wrist before crossing the door and pulling you back with her. While grunting you sat right in front of her at the edge of the bed, blue ocean eyes tried to read through yours like that was all she needed to do to understand what was wrong.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What happened?” she asked again. Her voice wasn't mad or annoyed, her tone was between worried and confused. Both her hands looked to hold yours.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I told you, it was nothing...” after her eyes moved to your hands, she pointed at your thumb and gave it a couple of touches. You sighed defeated. “It's stupid, you don't have to worry.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's not stupid if it's bothering you.” she moved closer. “You know you can trust me, in hell and worse, remember?”

Her eyes looked glossy, those gorgeous deep eyes that you fell in love with, the same ones you couldn't hide anything from as they knew you a little too well.

You were weak, not even a minute after you exploded with the whole context and arguments of what you heard at the fruit stand and apologized afterwards.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Stop, no, you don't have to apologize for shit.” darker orbs looked at you; even if she sounded mad, you knew it wasn’t at you. “Those idiots don't know what they're are talking about.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No, but–” you tried to argue back, but were cut off by her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't you ever doubt yourself, ever, you're my girlfriend you do deserve me and even if you're not my girlfriend you're this wonderful and intelligent woman anyone would be so lucky to have or even be.” a mix of blushing and teary-eyed painted your face. “Dumb people are everywhere and jealous people too, they live off spreading rumors or making fun of someone who is successful, who had the courage to do what they never were able to. You are not insufficient nor a failure, you're someone that is still working on her path and it's taking her time to do so. There's no time limit for it, you can take all the time you want, is your life, you decide and if they want to judge so bad let them. Don't allow their words affect you, they will win if you do so, but I know you enough to say that you're strong and will find a way to ignore them.”

With tears making their way down your cheeks and such an affectionate smile, you threw yourself at her for a hug and started to leave tiny kisses all over her face while sobbing, she just giggled while holding you tight.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I love you so much, like you don't have an idea, it hurts me when you doubt yourself like that.” she whispered, stopping your actions by cupping your face in her hands. “Please promise me you'll try to not let stupid comments like those bring you down. You're so loved and so amazing.”

Your head nodded slightly while a smile began to creep on your face. “I promise.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Great.” Korra smiled back at you big before standing up and taking your hand to make you stand up too. “Now let's go, love of my life, I am starving and I think our favorite restaurant has promotions tonight.”

[imreadydollparts]

A bit of a ramble.

I was asked if I had a pony salon wish list by a repeat customer that was interested in replenishing my supplies a bit.

I do, but it's not exactly what you might expect because part of how I can keep my salon fees so very low is that most of those supplies are paid for by my S.O. as we can grab them at the store during our regular grocery run.

But it got me thinking: Would people be interested in knowing what I use a lot of?

I've shuffled the wish lists around a bit to make them more sharable (because they were a mess), and will talk a little bit about what I use and how.

(I know punctuation and capitalization in a bullet list doesn't go like this. I don't care.)

bubble wrap is used to protect ponies in shipping

40Vol is 12% hydrogen peroxide cream, which is what I use to "retrobright" yellowed vinyl in the SunBox and it will sometimes remove stains - I don't use this up very quickly, surprisingly

I will use any dish soap, but that's the one I'm using right now because I had bought it to wash dishes but the whole family doesn't like the scent so I took it down to the salon to use up. I'll get something else when this runs out, which won't be for some time

Garnier Fructis Sleek & Shine conditioner isn't really great for repeated application to people-hair because it does build up over time, but it's excellent for a single application on synthetics. Well conditioned hair flat irons better than dry hair (and feels nicer, too).

I absolutely burn through melamine sponges. They're excellent at removing grime from vinyl that doesn't come off with a gentle hand-washing or toothbrush scrubbing. Anything acetone can take off, a melamine sponge can, just slower. Melamine sponges are micro-abraisives and will take the shine off of things.

larger envelopes for larger numbers of ponies sold on eBay

smaller envelopes. I prefer these envelopes to boxes because it keeps the shipping weight down, and ponies do just fine wrapped in paper, then bubble wrap, then in an envelope. For larger orders I reuse boxes from other things.

packing tape doesn't need much explanation. I tape boxes shut with it.

I wrap every pony in packing paper both to help keep their hair in place during shipping and to keep them from touching each other in the case that one has that particular yellow hair that likes to stain when it gets hot, or has colorant leeching that I don't want to transfer from one pony to another

cellophane tape is used to close the paper towel strips that I use to set their hair

Paper towels are cut into strips to use as hair setting strips, used to clean up areas that I don't want the mess getting onto my work cloths (I do mean cloths, not clothes) nor in my washing machine like rusty oxy clean goop, rusty tail washer chunks, or bits of hair that were combed out. I also use paper towels to strain the cleanser bath when I'm doing deflockings. I prefer to put all those little bits of plastic filament in the trash rather than down the drain. I'd like to get some full-size paper towels for straining flocking fluids because the perforated line is a weak point that sometimes breaks but it seems they're all half-size, now. Coffee filters are too slow and get gunked up too fast by the debris and glue residue from deflocking.

acetone is used to remove factory paint, or you know how sometimes paint from something else sticks to a pony, and smooth out rough areas

L.A.'s Totally Awesome concentrate has many uses in my salon. I use it to remove Mattel head glue, deflock ponies, and remove nail polish from areas where acetone would remove factory paint

This is is the things I wouldn't mind getting for the salon.

You may or may not know that the salon is currently mostly in the basement bathroom. Don't worry, no one uses that bathroom, so there are no potty particles flying around.

Towels are just for laying out on the wire shelves where I dry ponies, or laying on the floor when I need more room to dry ponies. I often do a hundred or so ponies all at once and need a lot of space to work.

There is no counter space in there at all, and it's honestly very difficult to work in there. As such, I've been looking at adjustable work benches because I have to accommodate the toilet and shower if I want to put in some work surface. It's a whole thing.

UVC light is the kind of UV light that kills off bacteria and fungus. Right now I have UVA lights in my SunBox for "retrobrighting" and wouldn't mind adding a little UVC lamp in there, just to help with cleanliness and probably also would help with smells.

The sink in there is teeny tiny and very difficult to work in, so an extension for the faucet would be really handy. I'd rather replace the whole sink, to be honest, but that's not in the cards at the moment.

A thermal printer would be really handy and let me no longer be reliant on the inkjet printer for which the ink cartridges are being discontinued, soon, and will become difficult to get a hold of. I honestly don't know if THAT one will work with my computer (I don't think my computer has Bluetooth), it's just a placeholder, really.

Obviously this isn't EVERYTHING that I use in the salon. I have an ozone generator for bad smells, paint and paint brushes, combs, brushes, flat irons, crimpers, curling irons, straws to curl hair, pipe cleaners, a massive stash of doll hair........

There's quite a lot going on down there, really.

(Since I'm putting wish lists anyway, here's the art supplies list: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/264SH6D7R373P?ref_=wl_share )

[masterqwertster]

Maybe 20. From the touching prompt list: bandaging/stitching up an injury. Do you think Ashton can get stitches with his skin?

No, I don't really think Ashton can get stitches. Not unless you're using, like, an industrial needle meant for poking through a lot of tough fabric. And even that feels a little iffy given the strength requisite to punch through means you're kind of running the risk of just straight up stabbing them with the needle and making things worse. But I have had a solution to No Stitches sitting on the headcanon backburner for a long while, so I'm thankful for the motivation to flesh it out. Also, this is going in Metamorphic

Sealant for My Wounds

Ashton is 13, almost 14, the first time he gets stabbed.

The wound sluggishly bleeds their wine-dark blood as they hold a cloth against it, listening to the others argue about how one is supposed to apply stitches.

“You've got to dip the needle in booze!” Zeeland insists.

“No, the booze is for the pain,” Sally argues.

“Yeah, you're supposed to put the needle in fire,” Bennet agrees.

“What?! No! Are you trying to burn them too?”

“We at least need hot water to clean the wound, yeah?” That one gets a general murmur of agreement.

Ashton lets the chatter about the best way to handle this wash over them. 

It fucking hurts. A throbbing in his side with every heartbeat. The pressure to minimize the amount of blood escaping his body. He’s never been hurt like this before. A hurt that sinks into him, past the surface of his skin. Deeper than a scratch, a cut. Sharper than a bruise. What will it feel like when it’s not so immediate? Ashton doesn’t know, is half intrigued and half afraid to find out. And a little bit dreading when this will happen again. (There’s no if about it. Not in a place like Bassuras. Not when all he’s got going for him is a body that can take a hit and dish them out)

Eventually a plan of action is decided upon. The needle and thread are prepared, the wound washed, and the burn of stolen alcohol washes down Ashton’s throat. (It’s certainly distracting, that coughing burn in their throat. They’re not sure how anyone can enjoy it without being some sort of masochist)

Jeto has the needle while the rest of the group has hands on Ashton to hold him down. Getting stitches isn’t supposed to be a comfortable process, yet it’s one that the patient should hold still for. And they know that Ashton, despite his slighter frame, can out muscle any one of them.

It’s a tense moment as Aston waits for the first tug of a needle through skin. A moment that stretches… and stretches… and stretches, even as they can feel hands at their side, pressing against the wound, causing it to spark with pain.

“Just fucking start already,” Ashton grouses, getting impatient for it to be over already.

“I’m trying! The needle’s not going through your fucking skin!” Jeto snipes back frustratedly.

“...What?” Ashton whispers, fear slithering down his spine. If he can’t get stitches, how the fuck are they going to hold the stab wound shut so it can heal right?

“Just gimma a sec. Probably just need the right angle or something– Fuck. Shit. Piss,” Jeto curses, hands moving away.

“Jeto?” Ashton asks nervously.

“You’re fine. Needle’s just bent. Shit.”

Fuck fuck fuck. Is Ashton going to have a hole in their side for forever? They can’t close the damn stab wound without stitches!

“Give me the needle. I’ll do it myself, since you’re weak as shit,” Ashton panics, already pushing against the hands holding him down.

“First off, rude. Secondly, this isn’t about strength. Anyone else, and I could have jabbed the needle all the way in with the kind of strength I was using,” Jeto testily explains. “No, the problem here is you’re a fucking rock person and our needle isn’t gonna punch through rock.”

Ashton stills at those words, fears confirmed. 

“...What do we do?” The words slip out, quiet and scared.

“Keep an eye on it and hope the caretakers give a fuck if it gets infected or some shit,” Jeto says in a practical tone with a shrug.

And they do. But it’s so fucking slow to heal, while any sharp moves or blows cause it to start bleeding again.

Ashton doesn’t find a solution until he’s left on the ground after a fight, watching his dark blood bind the dirt and sand into mud. Some strange instinct that never existed in him before insists he gather the earth bound in his escaped blood and return the whole mix to the wound it left. His rational mind screams that this is stupid and exactly how wounds get infected. But packing and plugging the wound with something to stop the bleeding isn’t that stupid. And at the worst, the wound will get infected and the caretakers will throw a fit about having to get a proper healer to fix him up.

And Ashton is an earth genasi, so maybe…

He follows the instinct. Scoops up the almost clay-like slurry and presses it into the aging stab wound, into the larger gashes this recent fight has left him with. 

It doesn’t feel bad. (It feels right. The earth returning their strength, their health)

He doesn’t tell the others what he did. Ashton doesn’t want the lecture, the arguments, the proclamations of idiocy. It’s not like they know how Ashton’s body really works anyways. Sure, it’s the same shape as a half-elf’s, but they’ve all already seen that the stone composition of it changes things. So who the fuck gave them the right to judge?

The others find out. Of course they do. 

But by the time they know, Ashton’s already found that those strange instincts were correct. Their blood mud sealed the wound, stopping the bleeding reopenings of the injury. And weird as it fucking is, their body seems to be integrating the mud, compressing and shoring it up into the same stone as the rest of them. Even small cuts heal faster with blood mud.

They call it fucking weird and strange (and creepy behind his back), but Ashton can’t find that he necessarily disagrees, even if it does make a strange sort of sense given his elemental nature. Mostly he’s just glad to have a solution for when he needs stitches.

So yeah. While I thought of the "blood mud to seal wounds" way before the titan blood reveal (actually back around when I first started writing Rockin' It, back during the Museum Heist), at this point, I'm kind of inclined to make it a titan blood thing. Ashton is just so wholly of the earth because of the titan blood that shoving dirt/mud in their wounds is helpful, like slip or sealant or daub.

[ninakuli]

Fever

Bo Sinclair x reader

Maybe will write Lester and Vincent too!!

I just want to take care of him🥺

Special tag: @sh1n0o

Bo wake up at the morning, he feel sick he want to throw up and he feel dizzy, but he force himself to stand up and walk, he have work to do, he won't let himself rest until he finish his ma dreams, so his hand support the wall and tumbling to the stairs, he look at the challenge and slowly go down but unfortunately he slippery, he fall down the stairs.

"Fuck..." He curse.

You hear the sound at first you suppose it's Vincent.

"Vin are you okay?" You run to the stairs then found out it's Bo.

"Omg!!! Darling are you hurt?!" You kneel down and check on him, then when you check him you feel his abnormally high body temperature.

"Fuck off don't touch me..." He push you away but strength weaker then before, you can feel.

"Honey you have high fever, just go to rest."

"I'm fine." "No you not." "I say I'm fine!!!" He yell.

"You just fucking fall down at the stairs!!" You refute.

"Then who can tak' care the gas station an' the tourists?" "Gas station I can take care and tourists Vincent can so just go to sleep!" "You can't." "Of course I can, I watch you take care the gas station so many times, I know how to do! Please just rest!" Your face full of worries.

Bo try to think about it, but his brain burned out, he can't think too much, he rub his head and try to stand up, he can't stand up without the wall support, you help him get up.

"Fuck, fine, only this time..." He whisper, he really don't like this, he hated be so weak and need help.

You assist him go back the bedroom and set well at bed.

"Wait me a second darling." You kiss his forehead and run out the bedroom, you bring the medicine, water, towel and some soup, you scooped a spoonful of soup and blow a few times then bring to his mouth.

"I can eat by myself." He snort "Come on just let me take care of you please?" He silence a moment then take a bite, you gentle smile and help him to eat, and help him take the medicine too, you lead him to lay down and put the cold wet towel on his forehead to cool down his body temperature, you kiss his temple and turn off the lights to let him sleep.

You walk to the gas station and sigh a little then start to work, you rely on your memory to take care the station, luckily today don't have any tourists at morning. It's noon, it's time for lunch, you back the house and sneak into the bedroom, Bo are sleeping but the fever don't have any appearance about turn good, you worry and put some food, water and medicine on the nightstand then go back to work.

Lester bring two tourists come, you nervously chat with them and try to allure them to the wax museum(Lester help you too), even it's difficult but you still successful and Vincent do the good job too, you check no one will bother Bo. Work gets done faster than you think, cause Lester help you so you back to house to check on Bo, you sneak to the bedroom, you touch his forehead, it's still burn but it's better than before, when you prepare go out he be pulled by Bo, he pull you under the covers with him, he hugs you tight "Don't go..." He whisper, you smile and snuggle closer then one hand around him another hand gentle comb and pet his head.

When you wake up you feel so tired and your head are hurt, you feel strange then you find out Bo are gone, you panicking and support your body from walls, tumbling to the downstairs and find Bo in the kitchen.

"Morning darlin', make your favorite breakfast." You weakly sit "Ya okay? You look not well." "I'm fine" You rub your head, Bo click his tongue and shake his head "I don' think so darlin'." You finish the meal and try to get up to do the dishes but your legs are shaking "No way..." Your face fall at the situation "Sit still I'll do the dishes." Bo take the plate to the sink and wash it, when he finished he walk to you and raised his one brow, you look at him "Fine..." You pout, then he picking you up bridal style to bedroom and bring you some medicine to take then snuggle into the covers with you, he hugs you.

"Hey thanks for tak' good care of me yesterday, now, le' me take care of you k?" You nods "Good, now rest." You feeling so tired so you fall asleep very quick, when you sleeping Bo just watching you and take care of you, he never leave.

[onedreamaday]

Once again, this is all @im-pure's fault, based on this post. They enable my angsty side so much.

They are the worst enabler /jk

I had this song on repeat while writing.

Can be seen as a follow-up to this, which takes place a few months later.

This was supposed to be an introspective kind of fic, but Liz sorta bullied her way into being here. Then it turned into Bax and Liz being catty in-laws. (but not really, they just mostly snark at each other- it's out of love)

TW 's apply here: character death and mentions of depression/depressive episodes. Remarks of implied alcoholism (Liz accuses, Baxter denies, but nothing is confirmed.)

Sidenote: Liiy didn't bother changing her last name when she and Bax married. One, she kinda doesn't see the point in changing her last name. Two, she found out how much of a hassle it was to do if she did change it and wanted nothing to do with that paperwork.

Elizabeth Last, Baxter is starting to truly realize, is an unstoppable force of nature when she wants to be. Case in point, she has apparently made it her life's mission to show up unannounced whenever she's in town.

Since she doing some type of job near Prima Vista, that means he's been seeing her a distressing amount.

Liz does, at least, knock first before she opens the door, using a key Lily gave her years ago. The light spills into the room and it's do bright, Baxter involuntarily lets out a curse. It's way too early for her presence. He checks the time on his phone, which reads 10:54 am.

There's the smell of food and even better, coffee. A peace offering, then. He'll take it. And mentally prepares of whatever uncomfortable topic she feels she needs to talk to him about.

He groans inwardly. Lily, he imagines, would find all of his hilarious. She was always far more patient with her sister's antics than he could ever be.

“Really? All you've been doing is drinking?”

Ah, an old topic it is then.

Baxter rubs eyes and sighs. “I didn't drink that much,” he says.

Liz hums. “That bottle of whiskey is suspiciously empty.” The tone is light, but the accusation heavy. It sets Baxter on edge.

“It was over the course of a few days,” he replies bitingly. “After work, and never excessively.”

“Oh great, you're back working. I was worried you'd be living on the couch, growing mold.” Liz places the food on the table. A veggie omelet with toast. Simple but decent.

“Unfortunately, my rent and bills don't care if my wife is gone and my depression refuses to go away.” He surprises himself with how flippant he can say that, and going by the look on his sister-in-law's face, perhaps she has the same thought.

There’s silence as he eats, and he notices Liz's eyes keep drifting to a stack of papers.

Or rather, the letters he's written to Lily since her passing. They help, sometimes. On the days where the grief is all-encompassing. Where he watches old videos on her phone just to hear her voice. There’s a voicemail on his phone from her on his phone he refuses to delete.

“You can read them,” He tells her. “It's not as if there anything particularly embarrassing written there.”

He flashes a grin; it feels weak on his face. “There's nothing to blackmail me with, I'm afraid.”

Liz hands lingers, as if she's unsure before she takes the topmost letter. “Other than that monstrosity dyed hair you had when you first moved to Sunset Bird.”

“Lily found it charming.”

“She had terrible taste. How she liked it, I'll never know.”

“I might add, she wished I never stopped dyeing it that way.” He finishes eating and takes the plate to the sink. There’s not much to wash, but Baxter cleans the dishes anymore, moreso to give him something to do.

There’s silence between them, but it’s not tense or heavy, despite their banter earlier. Eventually: “You have the most flowery writing I’ve ever read.” Liz pauses, her eyes softens as she reads. “She fell in love with such a dork.” She returns the letter back to the stack, but doesn’t reach for another. “She would talk about you a lot, after that summer.”

That surprises Baxter; the way she acted after they met in the restaurant three years ago, he suspected she wanted nothing to do with him. “I honestly thought she hated me for a while there.”

Liz smiles. “Lillian Last actually hate anyone? I highly doubt that. If she was willing to give Shiloh and that Jeremy guy a second chance, she definitely was gonna give you one. She was just being dramatic. She’s good at that.” A pause. “Was good at that. Sorry.”

Baxter nods his head. He understands completely. There are days when he thinks of Lily in the present tense; sometimes he expects her to come walking through the door, talking excitedly about her job. He misses those moments when they cooked together (or attempted to, in Lily’s case. She was a bit of a disaster in the kitchen.)

He misses the floral perfume she would wear, the way she would laugh when he swept her up into an unprompted dance, her snuggling up next to him even if it was absolutely sweltering from the summer night.

Liz leaves with a well-meaning snark, telling him she will beat his door down if anyone hasn't heard from him in a few days. Entirely unnecessary, but he understands all the same, and it's well deserved. His attempt to go no contact had everyone thinking the worst and the last thing he wants to do is put his friends and family through all the stress again.

Baxter looks at his stack of letters; his fingers itching to write another is too hard to ignore.

Giving into temptation, he sits and writes, pouring out feelings he can't get himself to say out loud. He finishes it with

"In the afterlife, or wherever you are, do you miss me as much as I miss you?'

[nvrcmplt]

[☆⌒(> _ <)] "What do you mean I'm not doing it right? What do you mean... use? Icarus isn't a thing to be used! He's a--"

The vulpine cuts himself off, feeling the intense gaze of the butler before him. He is very beautiful, however, and so well kept together. He can't imagine how much his clothes cost, nor the cost of his... upkeep. He moves with grace, elegance and all sorts of words that Fox doesn't know.

What he does know, however, is this doll's unwavering loyalty to his 'master'.

"...Fine! If you know so much... What exactly is the 'right' way to treat Icarus? How does your 'master' treat you?"

Dolls were such a strange concept to him; technology really has advanced so much... and here, he thought his mask was the most cutting edge technology there is. He supposes he still has room to be surprised.

He leans his back against a nearby wall, his arms folded. He ponders what kind of person has 'cultivated' this doll into the being that it is - must be someone special.

"Also... just who is your 'master'?"

This was an agreement, the government was to aid in funding the Dolls, Yomi gave them the rights to make undying soldiers that did things ten times better than their human flesh bags wasting on the fields. A Doll could be reformed, recollected after skirmishes and remade without a scar. Dolls could be walking bombs with nothing to trigger them until that final moment. Dolls that held no beliefs, thoughts or feelings of their own. Only the duty to carry out what they were made for. It was a platform thousands of businesses all over the world wanted but - they couldn't get it, because Yomi didn't allow it. Frederick wasn't a fool, he knew how to entice his people, his money funds and the likes and that's why he was loved, feared and envied across the world. But he was still human - weak and pathetic, taken out by his own creation that was just a little bit too insane.

Yomi would only know his duty… Serving Mitsuhide.

So, he does - so when his Master is on board with a confidential mission for him to deal with. Yomi was also here, offering his services, expanding his own pleasures of serving Mitsu' and showing off his talented Dolls in the prime of it all. So when he came to see how Icarus was doing, it was rather shocking to witness that one of the most gossiped about creature-features of his barrack was not the sadistic monster they claimed it to be. In fact - it dared breathe in his direction. That mask was outdated, old technology against what he was but he held his tongue for the matter that this fool was making one of the primary reasons for a Doll to be useful was not meeting the bar.

"First and foremost, Fox. You are not stupid, you know clearly well that Icarus is not a human nor a being that needs your pity or gratitude. He is a doll, a toy, a creation made for the destruction of its making." He spoke with ease, looking down at them wasn't hard. Mitsu' has taught him the ways of being vile with just his looks. "What is you do with a toy that you have no interest in, Fox? You put it on a shelf to collect dust and forget for the years to come. Do you plan on putting Icarus on your shelf to collect dust and become nothing? A Doll is made with the intention of aiding their person. Be in cleaning their bed, washing the walls and floor, of making them food, folding clothes, washing dishes or even cleaning their wounds when they return home. A Doll has a duty to thrive under the commands of their Humans, to be given a duty and goal, to have their goals met and praised by their masters." Yomi stepped forward, close enough to loom in his presence, close enough to show the seriousness in his gaze.

"A Doll is to be used. Icarus is THE first of all Dolls, he is the oldest model and the oldest creation of the Corporation. He is the reason I stand here, why your mask exists, why this facility exists and all human technology has advanced to its current levels. Icarus is the God Father of all technology whether he likes the title or not." A gloved hand raises to rest over his chest, a manner of sincerity. "You are doing him a disservice of not full filling the basics of Doll Care. You are neglecting the duties of man for us Dolls." Yomi lowered his hand, returning to stare upon them with coldness.

"A doll is to take the emotions and pleasures of their human onto themselves. We weave their unfulfilled desires into our bodies. We take what they can not show freely, we serve when they are open to allow us to do so. Icarus, is a House Keeping unit, this means he is made for Domestic Conflict. He is the spouse of violence. To harm him, is to fulfil his function. To hurt, harm, maim, fuck and mutilate… It is his duty to be used in such a manner." Yomi didn't need to touch this man, he didn't need to even continue on but of course, this fool had to mention his Master, his love, his life, his light, his everything…

How swift the change was.

The shimmer of purple hues, the pupils that changed in a blink to that of his Master's symbol. Bright and vibrant and how his hands twitch to hold onto his own features that tainted in purple blushing. "Goshujin-sama uses me to the fullest capacity, he treats me as I should be treated. For I was created for him and only him, to be torn apart, stabbed and gagged by his fingers. To be choked, maimed and stabbed within his anger when coding does no work. To be locked in a room on my own for months on end, to be forced to take everything he gives, even if it is my own blended hand. I will swallow everything he demands me to." Ah - insanity. Obsession… possession. Everything about Yomi for Mitsuhide was deranged. "Goshujin-sama is the ideal Person for Dolls, but he is mine and mine alone. How blessed I am to be created for him." Ah - he was not right in the head at all, but that was fine.

"I serve Goshujin-sama in any way he desires, because that is how I am to remain functioning. Without my Goushujin-sama, I will wither, decay and collect dust on his shelf. Do you understand, Fox?" Ah, how quick his gaze returned to its icy-share, pupils pinpoint and features reverted to its usual stoic beauty. "I was looking forward to meeting you after hearing how violent and sadistic you are to those with information you need for your mission, but to think you were this pathetic and useless. My heart bleeds for Icarus, to of been befriended by something as small as you." Yomi needn't say much else, instead he adjusted his collar and stepped back, turning with ease on pristine shoes. "If you dislike to use Icarus as he should, dismiss him to the mess hall. He will find another to fulfil his duties here."

[crazycatgirl420]

Reincarnated as Danielle Fenton-Masters part 2

A self instert Danny phantom fanfic

The ride from Vlad's Illinois mansion to Amity Park wasn't that long actually, though I had spent the last hour and a half lost in thought.

How much of the show did i actually remember and how much of what I knew was phandom created? Most of what I remembered was likely phandom created, because I think the show was intended to be a kid's show.

It doesn't really matter though, I'd just have to deal with life one day at a time, worrying about issues as they develop. For now, that meant using my human form to get into the FentonWorks disaster of a house.

It was horribly easy to break into FentonWorks. The front door wasn't locked, there were no cameras or security for non-ghostly threats. Danny and Jazz weren't here, and the doors to the basement lab were shut, the bright red light above the door saying it was in use. I made

The house was a mess, and the kitchen was the lesser known sibling of a toxic waste land. I couldn't find cleaning supplies anywhere, so I sent the driver, Ms. Nancy, to get some from the store.

I don't know how long I spent cleaning, the familiar mind numbing routine from my last life made the time fly by so fast. I was short, and physically weak, so I had to carefully figure out my powers to get anything done. Flying, cleaning the windows, walls, corners, tv, ceiling fan, changing the light bulbs, dodging the anti-ghost security attacks. Vaccuming the couch, under the cushions, lifting the couch to lean under the couch, the floor, wiping off the tables, moving all the dirty laundry to a basket and then tracking down the laundry room.

I cleaned the kitchen much the same way. Top to bottom, sorted through the fridge, sent Ms.Nancy grocery shopping, restocked the cupboards and fridge, washed the dishes, got them a mini fridge specifically for their vials of ectoplasm.

When I was done I noticed there was someone else in the kitchen with me. I turned around to see Danny, so much more real than he'd been in my memories of a cartoon. Messy black hair, gray-blue eyes, human and alive and real, right in front of me.

"So, who are you kid?" he asked.

"I'm Danielle Masters," I said, "I'm your clone, Vlad wants your dna because i'm dying, and he wants to either save me or create a better clone of you"

"That's... a lot to process," Danny said, sitting heavily on the nearest chair.

I nodded, turning to the fridge and pulling out the stuff to make sandwiches.

As Danny and I ate, we talked. I admitted I had only came to life this morning, was physically about three or four years old, and haven't done more than the basic ghost powers because I don't want to accidentally die doing more than that.

He pulled out his cell phone, and we watched videos, listening to music for funny cat videos or scrolling through celebrity gossip articles. It was fun, and I learnt most of the songs I knew existed here but not all of them. It seemed to be a coin flip on if a certain celebrity or songwriter existed in this universe. As I was scrolling through movie titles, a wisp of cold breath from between my lips, I glanced up and knew Danny had left the same.

"...Do you need help?" I asked, I wasn't sure how much help i could be but I'd do my best if he needed me too,

"No, stay here. Or hide in my room if you want too, I'll be back in a few minutes,"

So I went to Danny's room, which was just as much of a disaster as the rest of the house had been. after looking up the current ghost fight on Danny's phone, seeing Phantom fighting one of Vlad's failed experiments at the school, I sighed. I wasn't there to attack Danny from behind like my character had done in the show, I wasn't sure what would happen.

There wasn't much I could do, but I could clean. When Danny returned, his room would be clean, his bed sheets changed and his laundry washed and put away.

[waywardangel-wilds]

This is from an idea I had ages ago. I'm still trying to figure out how to finish it.

___

He didn’t intend to do it.

Okay, scratch that. Of course, he did it on purpose. You don’t press that many buttons in a silent, secluded room by accident. He meant to do it. What he didn’t intent to do was to take it this far.

His job is prestigious, the kind that used to only be within the reach of the sons and daughters of other people holding prestigious positions. He’s proud of it, happy to have it, but he never intended to abuse it. Never thought he’d stoop that low, become like the people he so frequently talked down about.

But, well, he’s done a lot of things he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of in the past handful of years.

And so, it starts.

The first time he did it the decision was made in a moment of weakness. Bitter, petty, and curious, he’d taken the military computer into his private office when he was sure no one would overhear him. He was so secretive about it, so aware of the wrongness of what he was doing that he’d turned off the lights in his office, shut the blinds of his windows and turned down the brightness on the screen.

For the first ten minutes there wasn’t anything interesting to listen to. There weren’t any cameras, so he was relying entirely on sound. He pressed the earbuds into his ears and waited.

There was shuffling. The sound of footsteps, running water. He looked at the screen to see what channel he was listening to. The computer reported back to him in wide block letters: V.V. MLLRK. KITCHEN.

There was some mumbling, but the voice was too low. Annoyed, Gale turned up the volume, but he didn’t recognize any words. The person mustn’t have been really trying to speak.

But then:

“No, I can do that.”

It was that guy’s voice. Low and in that strange unemotional tone he’d adopted after his rescue.

Nobody replied.

“Suit yourself.” More shuffling. The water shut off, and Gale could hear the distinctive sound of dishes clicking together. Someone was washing and drying dishes, perhaps?

Relative silence. Occasionally he could hear movement, things and people moving.

“You don’t have to,” her voice. It was clipped and short and oddly unemotional.

Silence. “I want to.” His voice again, but further away. Out of the room. Gale looked at the screen and saw the sound graph moving ‘hotter’ in another room. He switched channels. V.V. MLLRK. D.R.

“Who?” his voice.

“District 1.” A pause. “Marvel. I keep seeing him, with the spear.”

“And you want him in here?” Gale waited, frowning, confused about what they were talking about. “Katniss, I thought—”

“It’s for memories.” She interrupted. “You shouldn’t draw them looking bad, but we need to write it down.”

“I thought it was for good memories. People we liked. Loved.”

“It’s for all our memories. All of it.” Her voice rose then dropped back down again. “They were just kids. Wasn’t their fault.”

Gale waited for them to speak again but after forty-five minutes he gave up. He angrily slammed the computer shut.

The next time he did it, it was months later. He’d stayed late in the office just putting off the inevitability of going home to insomnia. He leaned back in his chair, the hard-covered computer tossed under a pile of documents teasing him from the edge of his desk.

Fine, he’d thought. Just to see if they’re okay.

He’d turned the computer on, checking the ‘warmth’ of the audio channels in every house. Nothing came in from Abernathy, but he suspected the old man had simply found the bugs and ripped them out years ago. Once again MLLRK was hot.

He put in the earbuds and switched on V.V. MLLRK. LVNRM.

“—the half of it!” an unfamiliar voice was laughing. “Ugh, I wish you guys could see it. You’d love it.”

“Sounds like fun,” his voice again, but lighter, less emotionless. “I’m happy for you.”

[lesless]

glowing, growing 🔮 🍀

It is gently dropping small, delicate flakes of white outside & the air is so still, quiet, like a whisper. My love took the dog & headed out to a town 2 hours away to meet his father so he can spend tomorrow working on an initiative that may prove to be a wonderful investment of time/energy/etc., but not without quite a lot of work first. I am proud of him in a lot of ways, but I will miss him. I do enjoy my down time though, so I will make the most of it.

I had planned on meeting up with a friend tonight after she had dinner with her sister, but neither of us wanted to do much once the sky grew grey & it began to snow. I wrote a list of what I want to do solo tomorrow--tea (I need to reign back my coffee consumption, again), journal, breakfast, eat, go to yoga, get a juice from the place next door to the studio, a bath with the bath bomb I bought at the botanical gardens. Then, get some work done on the photo and/or writing project, buy some yarn to make gifts, write xmas cards, then maybe meet up with that friend I missed today. It sounds like a great solo day, exactly the kind of thing I like to do! A little chill, a little activity/movement in the A.M., a little productivity, a little shopping, a little fun.

It is funny that since I sorted through my clothes & replaced them with quality items I enjoy wearing that I feel like I have SO many options but I have SUCH a small number of items now compared to when I started weeding out synthetics. I have reflected that life is funny like that, sometimes when we lack quality we go for quantity, don't we?

Being deliberate in purchasing/replacing items has been a years-long thing & lately I do feel surprised that interacting with quality on a regular basis is satisfying, though I have kind of always held the idea that spending extra $ on things you interact with daily will make your daily experience more enjoyable. A nice face wash, comfortable bedsheets, decent rubber gloves to wash dishes in. I suppose I will just never stop appreciating little things in life.

Sunday bb will return, we will relax & play BG3, spend our last little bit of solo time together until next year, quite literally. Tuesday our friend arrives, I visit the allergist, then Thursday my cousin arrives, then Sunday we fly to Texas, then it's holiday madness & remote work, then we fly to Mexico, the new year blooms, more remote work, & we return to life & a new semester.

In more mundane news, I told myself that I would learn how to french braid my hair while it's short so I can become accustomed to it as it grows out & I have stuck to my word! 3 successful braids so far, though my arms do get exhausted & I feel feeble every time I braid it. Just as I feel weak every time I do core exercises (2 down this week! pretty good considering I spent 3 full & exhausting days in the office today) at least I'm doing it! I will get better! I can't expect myself to be good at something right off the bat, as much as I want to be for my ego's sake.

I still always feel at least a little anxious after socializing with people I am not intimately close with, & I have done an assload of socializing over the last 3 days, BUT I feel relatively unscathed after this week. 2 fumbles, which I felt I saved, & maybe I shouldn't be cataloging my social blunders mentally but also maybe mentally I'm a little left of center & I should just be OK with that, too, instead of self-monitoring so heavily. Anyway, I think the level of comfort I DO feel has a lot to do with the fact that I really just feel delightful about the people I work with; I really genuinely like them all. They are all such characters, so knowledgeable, incredibly well-intentioned, & most of them are as sassy & quippy as I enjoy in a person without the malicious undertone that often accompanies that trait.

Anyway I am trying to remind myself that bettering is incremental & when I look back at how far I have come I am proud of myself, too. Lastly, perhaps, I must shake the scolding I want to give myself at every imperfection.

It is a beautiful night & I am comfortable, listening to music & watching everything collect a thin layer of white outside of my window. I have things to look forward to, people to love, people to love me back, humble goals, & a deep appreciation for the now. I hope you, too, find a quiet sort of peace as the year wraps itself in darkness & cold. I hope spring makes you feel like you can start over if you need to. I hope you treat yourself gently tomorrow.

[anythingelsereally014]

I had this one in my private notes, so yay! Not many sneezes, loads of angst, mentions of death and intravenous stuff. No one dies, though, just a really really bad flu

I don't know the word cound, I'm sorry, but it's big

ma/rauders sick j/ames

"I think you're getting sick, mate," Peter says casually to James at the coffee shop. James is on his break, Sirius told him to take his time because he isn't feeling great. "Take it easy today, are you sure you can't leave early?"

"You know I can't, not today."

Normally, Sirius and Remus would be fine on their own, the three of them run the coffee shop by themselves and when one of them needs to leave early or stay home, it's not a problem. But it is the day of the full moon, meaning that Remus is in pain and mustn't overwork himself.

They have a rule for that, the Marauders, a rule they can't break, Remus isn't allowed to tire or overwhelm himself next to the full, it may lead to terrible consequences.

Peter sighs. "I know that you're right, but Merlin, the way you run this shop it's annoying sometimes. You should hire people, you own this fucking place, having staff would help you."

"Nuh uh," James shakes his head, they have had that talk before. "You know we don't want a big shop, just a family thing, but I can't leave them alone today, no matter how awful I'm feeling."

"Right, I get it," Peter looks at his phone and gets up. "I have to go, take it easy, don't force yourself too much, save your strength. I'll tell Regulus to meet you here and drive you home."

"He doesn't like to drive."

"I'm sure he won't mind, he knows we have to go with Moony tonight."

And with that, Peter leaves, his break is over and he needs to go back to the hospital, so James decides to get back to work too, clean the counters and wash the dishes, at least. He'll try not to interact with costumers too much, besides the possibility of him being actually sick and infecting them, socializing always drains him.

He isn't feeling so bad, really, just overly tired and sensitive, could be an emotional thing, he can get like this, even achy and weak sometimes.

"Are you sure you don't want to leave, James?" Remus asks in the kitchen. "You're looking pale."

"I'll stay, I'm sure I'm just tired."

Remus pulls James' eyelids with his thumbs and tutts. "What the fuck, Moony?"

"Even your eyes are pale."

"I'll be fine, we're slow today, you know the rule, you have to take it easy, especially today."

"Alright," he nods with a frown. "if anything changes you'll tell us, promise you'll tell us."

"I promise."

The day was pretty slow, as James had said, and they closed early. The coffee shop isn't really for money, more of a hobby, so it isn't really a problem. "I'll see you at eight, Reg said he'll make us something for breakfast, so we're going straight to my house after, alright?"

"Are you sure you're coming today?" Sirius asks with a frown. People are frowning at him too much today. "It'll be a good moon, we'll be fine."

"I am, don't worry, I know what I can or can't take."

"And are you sure you're alright to drive home on your own? Don't you want us to stay with you and wait for Reg?"

"Merlin, Sirius, I'm fine, just a bit tired. I already texted him to say he can go straight home, he likes apparating better, cars make him sick." They nod. "See you soon."

"Take care of yourself."

James rolls his eyes, but smiles at them. He'd probably do the same thing if it was Peter or Sirius on his place, but he won't be able to live with himself if he doesn't go tonight.

Sure, he was feeling a bit weird on the drive home, but he got there safe and texted his friends to make sure they knew he was alive.

.

He wakes up with Regulus' hand on his forehead. "Peter said you're ill, I do think you're a bit warm."

"Welcome home, Reg," he smiles. "I would kiss you but if I'm sick, maybe I shouldn't."

"You know I don't care about it, don't you?"

"Well, I do," he gets up and walks to the kitchen. "I brought scones and bread for us, could you set the table so I can get ready?"

"Are you sure you're going?"

"I'm just a bit tired, Reg, it's a short night and Moony is in a good mood, I'll be fine."

"Alright," he bites his lip. "I'll make breakfast for you and if anything happens, send me a patronus."

"I will, don't worry."

He walks to the bedroom and all but collapses on his bed, sighing and rubbing his eyes. His head is starting to hurt and his skin is sensitive, not just the regular emotional tiredness, then. He gathers all his things and takes a deep breath. He'll be fine, he always is.

It was half past seven when he got ready, so he had to eat quickly, kissing Regulus' head in goodbye and apparating to Sirius' house, the moon would rise at nine and set at five, it'd be fine.

"You're looking even worse, James," Remus points as soon as he gets there. "Are you sure you're coming?"

"I am," he sighs, rubbing his temples. "Just a headache, do you think a painkiller would be a bad idea?"

Peter doesn't need to be asked twice, finding a bottle of ibuprofen out of nowhere and giving him two pills. "It'll be a great idea."

James isn't one to take medicine, he doesn't like it, but desperate times asks for desperate measures.

.

The night wasn't bad, as they had predicted, Moony was in a great mood and didn't even try to hurt himself, they mostly ran through the forest until the sun started to appear. That's the worst part, seeing Remus in pain, rearranging all his organs and breaking all his bones just to come back to his human form, they were really disturbed when they first saw it happening. When Remus said it was painful, they didn't really understand how painful. Seeing his brother like that always breaks his heart.

Soon enough, James is back home. It's a sunny and warm day, the only problem is that he was shivering just as much as Remus.

It's alright, really. Staying awake and active all night just made him feel worse, but he'll be fine once he can rest.

"You're not going to work today," Sirius tells him at breakfast. "Moony and I can take it, stay home and rest."

"Isn't he tired?" He asks them, then looks at Remus. "Aren't you tired?"

"I'm better than you, please stay home today, we'll see how you feel tomorrow."

He looks at Peter and Regulus, seeking professional opinions, but both of them agree. "I can take Regulus' patients today," Peter says. "This way you won't be alone."

"I just have a slight fever," he looks at his husband. "You can go to work, I'll be alright on my own and I will call you if anything happens."

"Alright, I'll have my phone with me."

James actually slept the whole day, only waking up to the sound of the door being unlocked and Regulus coming in. He managed to feel even worse than before, not only is he shivering, he's freezing cold, his skin is sensitive and achy and his head feels clogged.

"You didn't send any news, James, what happened?"

"W'time is it?"

"About seven, I got caught up with a patient and had to stay for a bit longer, I texted you, but you didn't reply, I was worried sick."

"I'm glad you didn't leave early," Merlin, his throat is burning with every word. "I just slept the whole day."

Reggie leans to kiss his head and widens his eyes, he didn't even touch him, why did he widen his eyes?

"Take of your clothes and take a warm shower."

He wants to tease him or complain, but he doesn't have the strength, everything is feeling slow and weird. Moving isn't so easy either, even the effort of lifting his head makes him dizzy.

Oh, bloody hell, he is worse than he thought.

"Reg," he whispers. "I'm not feeling well."

"I know, James," he says softly. "You feel really warm, I need you to get up and take a warm shower."

"I can't," he feels his eyes burning. "I'm sorry, I should have stayed home last night."

"It's alright, it's alright. I'll help you, do you think you can get up with help?" He doesn't think so, but nods anyway. "Are you sure? I can just get a wet cloth if you think you can't get up."

Merlin, he can't even answer him. What is happening to him?

"I'll be right back, alright? Just stay awake."

Things feel foggy, he doesn't think he'll be able to stay awake, he wishes he hadn't woken up.

"James," Regulus calls from somewhere in their flat. "Talk to me, can you talk to me?"

"I guess," he croaks thickly, but it comes out no louder than a whisper.

"Talk to me, what about that thing you were reading? That character you told me about?"

Oh, that. He usually feels so excited when thinking about that. He can't, though, everything is hurting. A painful cough escapes when he opens his mouth to speak.

"I'll be right back, please stay awake."

He's trying to. He is, he promises he's trying.

.

He wakes up with Regulus lightly shaking his arm, the lights have changed, it's darker now. And Regulus had showered, his hair is wet.

"I think I managed to bring your fever down a little."

"I tried to stay awake, Reg."

"I know you did, I'm not angry, I promise."

"But you told me tohh heh'tshiew huh'eshiew snfff." Oh Merlin, he sneezed on his husband's face. Wetly. But he can't gather enough strength to apologise properly. "You should stay away from me, I'm obviously sick and I don't want you to get sick too. I'm sorry. I don't know what happened, I couldn't hold it, I'm sorry."

"Oh, James, don't worry. I'm not leaving you for this, I see worse every day, I might even be the one who got you this sick."

"But you're fine, aren't you?"

"Fine people can still transmit viruses, love. I had a patient with a high fever and a bad upper respiratory infection a couple of days ago, she was dreadful, the poor thing. I've already been exposed to this and you don't have to worry about getting me sick."

"Alright."

"Can you sit up for me?"

He does with Regulus' help, but not without feeling dizzy again. "I really don't feel well."

"I can see that," he says softly with a kiss on his temple. "Do you think you can drink some water, at least?" He shakes his head. "Could you please try?"

"Do you think I got them sick too?"

"No water, then?" He asks, the glass already in his hand.

"I can try." It would have been more embarrassing, weren't he feeling so bad. He is literally drinking water with a straw and his husband's help because he can't hold a fucking glass.

"Thank you, honey, you did a good job."

"Do you think I got them sick?"

"No, I don't think so. The girl's parents were fine and so was her brother, they said she woke up feeling weird and suddenly she felt like that, we didn't have time to run more tests, but I'm pretty sure it was the flu. If they were getting sick, they would have shown the symptoms already."

"What do you mean you didn't have time? Did she die?"

"James..." He doesn't answer. Nobody speak for a while, Regulus keeps caressing his hair in complete silence. "Do you think you can drink more water?"

He doesn't answer again, but Regulus put the straw in his mouth and he drinks a bit more.

"Will you be alright on your own for a couple of minutes? I'll be quick." He doesn't answer again, he can't. "James, love, please answer me."

"Alright."

Regulus leaves and the room immediately feels colder.

The thing about living in a flat with thin walls is that you can hear everything that's happening in the whole apartment. "He's really sick, Barty, I don't know what to do... I know, I know, but what happened to her... But I'm so worried... Do you think so?... Shouldn't I take him to the hospital?..." The hospital? James freezes. He's really going to die. He hears Regulus sobbing. Oh, Merlin, Regulus will be so sad, and his friends too. Oh no, his parents, it'll break their hearts. "Right, I'll do that. Are you at the hospital right now?... Good, please tell Peter to come here when he can, would you?... Thank you, Barty, thank you so much... I love you too... I know, I know. God, I know, Barty, I'm just worried, I hate to see him like this, he can barely drink water... I know, I will... I will... Bye."

He hears some shuffling in the kitchen and soon Regulus comes back with another glass. "Can you drink this for me? All of it."

It tasts terrible, but he has to drink it. If he is going to die, he'll do everything to make sure Regulus knows it's not his fault. James knows him, he's already blaming himself.

"I work with people, Reg, this could be anything, you can't be sure it's what she had and you can't be sure you brought it home. We both work with people all day."

"I know." His voice is so thick, he'll start crying again. "I need you to drink all of it, James."

"All of it," he echoes. "All of it. All of it—"

"James."

"I'm just repeating it."

"I know you think it's soothing, but can you say something else?"

"Why did you call Barty?"

"You heard me?"

"I'm sohh heh'tishh hah'ishhh heh'tshiew snfff sorry. I didn't mean to."

"God bless you, love," he says while kissing his forehead. "I called him because he was there with me. Her parents didn't believe she was feeling bad at first, they weren't really..." He sighs. "They reminded me of my parents, that's why Barty was there with me, I couldn't stay alone with them and he was the only one I trusted to stay there with me without judging." It got even worse, how did it get even worse? He needs to comfort him. "It took them over a week to take her there, she was dehydrated. Of course they didn't tell me that, her older brother did, he told me he tried to make her eat and drink, but she couldn't, and their parents didn't bother even looking at her until he made a scene in front of guests."

"Oh, Reg, I'm sorry you had to take that case, it must have been terrible for you."

"I think it was for the best, I could talk to her brother and call the police on their parents. It didn't end well, but I think it could have ended up worse, if the boy had to go back with his parents."

"It still must have been really hard, you know you can talk to me, don't you?"

"Do you know the craziest part? His name is Rigel, her name was Zeta," he laughs, but there are tears in his eyes. "It's like I managed to save Sirius, in a way, just like they saved me."

"Did you get to talk to them about that? I think it'll be good for both of you."

"You're not going to die, James."

"But she did."

"I'm keeping you hydrated and if you're not better until tomorrow morning we're going to the hospital so we can treat you there."

"If I die—"

"You won't."

"Listen to me," he says hoarsely. "If I do die, it'll not be your fault."

"You won't die."

"I feel awful, Reg. I don't think I've ever felt this bad before. I need you to understand it won't be your fault. You have to promise me you understand that."

"I do, but you won't die, I won't let you."

"And you'll talk to my parents, you'll tell them what happened and what you told me, they'll be happy to know you helped Rigel. They won't blame you, no one will. Please don't blame yourself."

"I need you to stop."

"Do you understand?"

"James, you will not die, please stop saying that."

"Tell me you understand."

"James," he sobs. "You can't die because I won't let you, I forbid you. She was neglected and you're not, I'm here for you and I'll take care of you. You're already sounding a bit better than you did when I got home."

He isn't really feeling better, but decides against saying that. "What did you make me drink?"

"It's something to keep your electrolytes normal, water isn't enough to keep your brain working."

"You're so smart, I love you so much. You know that, don't you?"

"You can tell it to me throughout our whole lives, you don't have to tell me now."

"I still want to."

He is actually really calm about it, it's a part of life isn't it? He just hopes his family will be alright. "Peter will be here soon."

"Why did you ask him to come?"

"Because he's more experienced than I am and I want more than one doctor with you." He closes his eyes, his headache is getting worse and he starts shivering again. "James, honey, look at me."

"Cold."

"Your fever's back. Can you drink more water?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright, James, you'll be alright."

"Do you think I can sleep? Or is it dangerous?"

"Of course you can sleep, love, it's not dangerous. But I'll have to wake you up from time to time, make sure you drink water and talk a bit."

"Alright," he sighs softly. "Will you stay with me?"

"I won't leave your side."

"You can leave if you need to, you have to eat and drink water too. And use the bathroom."

Regulus chuckles and kisses his head. "You're alright, you'll be alright."

"Reg, don't let mom and dad near me. I know you'll probably tell them I'm ill, but don't let them come."

"I won't," he caresses his cheek. "Sleep now, you'll feel better soon."

.

He wakes up again with Peter's soft voice. "Can you wake up for me, Prongs?" Merlin, he is still feeling horrible, even worse than before. He opens his eyes, but doesn't speak. "James, I know you find speaking hard sometimes, but I need you to answer me. I need you to say something to show me you're lucid and understanding me."

Of course he's lucid and understanding him, he's awake for Merlin's sake.

"What's your name?"

"What do you mean what's my name? You know my name."

"Then tell us, darling, please."

"My name is—" He freezes. "My name is—"

"Prongs, tell us your name."

"My name is—"

"Oh, God, oh God, oh God," Regulus chants with his hands over his face. "Oh God what did I do."

"I'm alright, Reg, I promise I'm alright."

"You don't know your fucking name, James. You're not alright."

"Regulus, I need you to calm down, drink some water and wash your face, then make another salt and sugar drink."

"I'm calm, I'm calm, I'll be right back."

"He's not calm and I'm lucid," he tells Peter. "Help him first, please."

"Can you tell me your name, then?"

"I know my name."

"I know you do," Peter puts a hand on his forehead and hisses. "Oh, mate, you're feeling awful, aren't you?"

He fells his eyes watering, he's going to cry. Why is he going to cry? So what if he's feeling awful? He shouldn't cry because of it. "My mind is weird."

"I bet it is," his voice is soft, as if he's soothing a child. "We'll get this fever down and you'll feel better."

"You should be a doctor, a kid's doctor."

"James, I—"

"Honey," he hears. .. Reg. Reg. He hears Reg calling him calmly. "Can you tell me what a kid's doctor is called?"

"A pediatrician, I'm not daft."

"And do you know who he is?"

"Of course I know who he is."

"Tell me, then."

"He's... He's my friend, he's one of my best mates, he's Wormtail."

"Great, and what's my name?"

He isn't feeling well. "Please stop. I know you. I know who you are and I know your name," his breath hitches. "Just stop asking me questions, please."

"James, mate, I need you to try," he turns to the other man. "Give him the water, he's severely dehydrated. I'm calling Moony."

He's calling Moony. Moony... "Don't call him, he needs rest. I don't remember why, but he does."

"James, honey, I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

He shakes his head and basically forces the straw into his mouth. "Drink this, for the love of God, drink this."

He does, slowly. It takes him some time to finish the whole glass, it was a big glass full of nasty water. "Why does it taste so bad?"

"It's salt and sugar, it's going to help your brain to function, you'll feel better soon."

"I'm cold, Reg," he whines. "You're a doctor, can't you make me feel better?"

"I'm trying to, James," he whispers. "You will feel better soon."

"Can I sleep again?"

"Can I try to get your temperature down while you sleep?" He nods. "Then sleep, I'll stay with you."

.

He wakes up to a lot of noise, his flat is too small to fit that amount of people. Regulus is still next to him, he has changed his clothes and is asleep next to him.

He should wake him up, shouldn't he? Even though he doesn't want to, he should. He can think clearer now.

"Reg?" He jumps. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you but—"

"What's your name?"

"My name is James. You should know that by now."

Regulus smiles, a tiny smile, but a smile nonetheless. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shite."

"Is your brain better?" He nods. "Can I ask Peter and Lily to come here?"

"They're here? Why are they here? When did they get here?"

"Oh, you don't remember, do you? Peter came a few hours ago, he helped bring your fever down when you were delirious. Lily came a bit after you slept, she brought supplies from the hospital," he points the catheter in his hand. "We managed to get your fever down and keep you hydrated."

"Is this even legal?"

"I promise it is, it's homecare, better than taking you to the hospital and risk you getting pneumonia or something worse."

"You can let them in, please."

Regulus nods and leaves the room, all the noise coming from the living room cease and he closes his eyes and takes some deep breaths. Not his best move, though, he has to sneeze and he only has a hand towel next to him.

Oh well.

"God bless you, James," Lily says cheerfully. "How are you feeling?"

"I can say my name now, so that's something."

"It definitely is, but other than that? I can see you're pretty congested, is there anything else?"

"I'm not sure, I'm feeling better than I was before, but still horrible."

"Regulus said that you had a sore throat and that you were coughing, right?" He nods, he had forgotten about that part, that brain fog he was feeling before was too terrifying for him to pay attention to anything else. "A bad case of the flu, I think."

"Bad?!" Remus says at the door. "Lily the man was delirious, he didn't know his name, he didn't know Pete's name and he didn't know exactly who I am."

"He's prone to high fevers, though," Sirius says behind Remus. "And with those, comes the chills, the sweating, loss of fluids and whatnot."

"Peter's prone to high fevers and I've never seen him like that."

"If you're done," Peter says harshly. "Out, all of you."

"You sound like madam Pomfrey," James chuckles. "I mean it, you said that exactly like she does."

"I get her now. Merlin, they're nosy. Menaces, all of them," he sits down next to him. "What are you feeling? Tell us everything."

"My head hurts, my whole body hurts, my fucking joints feel on fire."

"Anything else?"

Lily is taking notes. That's serious, she never takes notes, not even in history of magic when they were at school. "My whole head is clogged up, feels like cement, my eyes are burning, my throat is sore, I think I have cold sores all over my mouth and all I want to do is go back to sleep."

"Can I see your mouth?" He opens it and puts his tongue out. "Looks like your immune system quit or went on vacation, Prongs, that's probably why you're feeling so bad."

"Where's Reg?"

"He's coming, can we cast some diagnostic spells?"

"I thought you had already done it."

"Didn't have the time, we were running with the medicine and the paperwork to be able to bring this all here without you having a fit when you started feeling better."

"Oh Pete, you know me so wehh heh'tishh hah'tSHH sdrrrk well," he sneezes at the hand towel again. "I'm glad you do."

"I'm glad you're not delirious anymore."

"So am I, really," he sighs. "But I'm still feeling awful."

Reg enters the room with a cup of tea and some crackers. "No pressure at all," he starts, "but can you try to sit up and eat something?"

He doesn't answer, he doesn't think he can.

"It's alright, don't worry."

"I'm sorry, Reg, I know I should, but moving my head is making me dizzy."

"Don't worry, we'll figure something out. We just need you to be comfortable now."

"I'll try my best."

"I'm going to cast the spells now, alright?" He nods and closes his eyes as Lily moves her wand and casts some spells James has never heard before. "Alright, this is a bad case of the flu, your lungs aren't great, so that's probably where this high fever is coming from, we could give you an antiviral treatment, but it'd be hard on your body; or we could wait it out while controlling your fever and keeping you hydrated. As your doctor, I would tell you to take the medicine, but as your friend..."

"As my friend what?"

"We gave you a potion so you're not contagious anymore, I talked to madam Pomfrey and with your mom, but they couldn't find anything that could cure you or even keep your fever down, muggle medicine tends to be better at that."

"And...?"

"I'm not trying to say you are weak, James, I promise you."

"But...?"

Regulus sighs. "Your body is weird when it comes to medicine, as you know, we never know how it'll react, do you remember the penicillin incident?"

"When I almost died? I do."

"We have all the means to make you as comfortable as possible, Lily bought intravenous medication that I can administer, Peter said he'll take some time off to stay with us, Sirius and Remus will probably want to stay as well..." He caresses James' hand. "I think it's safer if we treat you like this, I don't want to see you almost dying again, the antiviral wouldn't help that much, we don't think it's worth the risk."

"Alright."

"If you want to take it, it's alright."

"I'd rather not, better stick to the medicine I know won't kill me."

"Now try to rest for a bit, I think you might be able to sleep better now that you only have a low-grade fever."

Peter and Lily leave, but Regulus stays with him. "Are you sure you're alright? You can take the medicine if you feel you need to."

"I'm as alright as I can be and I trust you, whatever you think it's best for me, I'll do it."

"I'm sorry I got you sick."

"Don't blame yourself, you heard Peter, my immune system is on vacation. I don't know why, though."

"We don't know either, but we'll find out. As soon as you're feeling better, we can't examine it much further while you're ill."

"See? Don't blame yourself for it, it could've happened with any other virus or bacteria, at least you know this one."

Regulus' breath hitches, but someone knocks at the door and he gets up quickly, wiping his eyes with fists. "Isn't your back hurting? Do you want to use the bathroom?"

"I'm fine, Reg, tell them to come in."

He opens the door and his parents rush to his bed. Normally, they would never ignore Regulus, but apparently the news had been spread, they know.

"Oh, Jimmy, Regulus called us, but he said you ask us not to come. You shouldn't have said that, we worry about you."

"What if I had gotten you sick? I'm young, dad, you're not. Not anymore."

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter, you'll always be our priority."

"Thank you for respecting my wishes."

"We would never disrespect you, honey," his mom says while caressing his hair. "It doesn't matter how painful it it, we'll never disrespect you. But you scared us so much, Jimmy, please don't do that again."

"Lily said you helped."

"Maybe with selfish intents, I know there aren't potions to heal you the way muggle medicine does, but there is one that makes you not contagious anymore, and I needed to see you, honey. We needed to see you."

"I'm alright. I feel awful, but I'm alright. I'll make you dinner once I'm better."

"We'll leave you to rest, but please keep us updated."

"I will. Thank you for coming, I love you."

"We love you, son."

James looks at Regulus after they leave. "Thank you for not letting them come."

"I'd never endanger them. If there was any chance of contagion, I wouldn't have let them near you."

"I know, I trust you."

"Rest now, love, you need it."

"Who else is here?"

"Remus and Sirius, I think Lily left, Peter's still here, Barty and Dorcas are here, Marlene and Mary couldn't leave work and will come tomorrow, Pandora and Evan are at the hospital, but they'll be here soon."

"Why so many people?"

"Because you're loved and everyone is worried. I can ask then to leave and they'll come back when you're feeling better."

"It's alright, they can stay if they want."

Sirius and Remus knock at the door and enter the room.

"Hope you two are decent," Sirius says laughing. "Can we come in?"

"Of course, just please don't speak so loudly, my head hurts and I'm itchy."

"Itchy like do you need to sneeze or like you feel when you're overwhelmed with sensory overload?"

"Both, but I meant the sensory overload."

"Oh," Regulus cries. "Why didn't you say something? I can cast silencing spells."

"Didn't cross my mind, things are still a bit weird."

"Weird how?"

He doesn't want to speak anything, it feels like it'd be too tiring.

"How weird, James?"

"heh'tTSHH sdrrk hAH'TISHH AH'ISHH sdrrk"

"Oh, bloody hell, why is he sneezing like that?" Remus asks to no one in particular. "James never sneezes like that."

"Reg," Sirius continues. "Why is James sneezing like that?"

"This is one of the worst cases of the flu I have ever seen and he's full of fever. It's better this way, stifling like he does isn't healthy."

"I know it isn't, but..." Remus sighs and looks at James. "You're feeling awful, aren't you?"

He nods.

"Can you describe the weirdness you're feeling, love?" He shakes his head. "James, I need you to say something so I know you're not delirious like you were before."

He is not delirious, just overwhelmed.

"I know you find speaking hard sometimes, I do. But it's really important."

"Overwhelmed. Name's James Potter."

"Can you tell me something else? What was your favourite subject at school?"

"Transfiguration," he sighs. "Can I stop now?"

"You can, I think we'll let you rest a bit more, call us if something happens, alright? I'll be in the living room."

He closes his eyes, feeling like he has been run over by a train.

.

He wakes up without knowing what day it is, he had slept and woken up too many times and it messed up his perception of time.

He's feeling feverish again, but Reg isn't there. He must be tired, taking care of James like that is draining. James is draining. He wishes he wasn't a burden to his husband.

Maybe he should get up and shower, surely it won't hurt, he must be stinking, nobody will want to come near him.

He manages to take two steps before thinking bad idea. The world starts spinning because of course he wouldn't be able to walk on his own.

He's fucking pathetic.

.

Well, it had been, indeed, a bad idea because, apparently, he had collapsed.

"Darling, why didn't you ask for help?"

He shrugs, he doesn't want to burden Reg any further, he's already done it enough. It is a bit frustrating, really, he is feeling like a piece of shite. Useless, stinky and annoying.

"James, honey, answer me."

His eyes start to water and he shakes his head. Merlin, he's pathetic.

"Oh, James," he says in a soft voice. "Don't cry, honey, please. Don't cry. Why are you crying?"

Regulus sits down and starts caressing his hair when he doesn't answer. "Alright, your fever's back, time to take another medication. Is your brain feeling fuzzy again?" He nods. "Got it, I'll be right back."

He starts crying even more when Regulus leaves. He's utterly and completely useless, he's going to end up killing his boyfr– husband. He's going to end up killing his husband from exhaustion. Regulus will probably collapse and die from fatigue because James is too tiring.

"Oh God," Reg cries. "Hush now, James. Everything is alright, you're alright, nothing bad will happen."

"You don't have to stay."

Regulus tenses. "Do you want me to leave?" He doesn't, but he nods anyway, because Reggie needs a time from him, he needs a time for himself. He doesn't seem happy with the answer, but hurt. He nods back at James. "I'll put the medication and leave you alone."

"You should leave now."

Right, maybe it wasn't the most intelligent move, now not only is he feeling like shite, he is feeling lonely, cold and even more guilty for saying that.

He closes his eyes again, opening them with the sound of the door opening violently.

"What is wrong with you?" Remus asks harshly. "Merlin, James, are you daft? Asking Reg to leave you? Hurting his feelings? Worrying all of us? Jeopardising your recovery? Endangering your life? Just because of what? Do you think you're helping anyone by doing that?"

His breath hitches and he turns to lay on his side, his back is killing him from all that time laying down in the same position.

"Oh, James," his voice softens. "How many times will we have to tell you you're not a burden? Trust me, I know the feeling, but you're self-sabotaging and it's literally going to get you killed." He feels Remus stroking his hair. "You know that Regulus is too respectful. So respectful that he was willing to ask me, evem though I quit being a doctor last year, to put those things back in your veins just because he can't leave you without medication and you don't want him here." He opens his mouth, but Remus continues. "But you do want him here, don't you?"

He nods. "He needs rest."

"He won't be able to rest if he doesn't know you're well," he says with a sad smile. "Close your eyes, I'll explain everything to him."

.

The next time he wakes up, Regulus was laying on his side of the bed, holding James' left arm with his life. There are tubes on his right hand and the crook of his elbow, he's really uncomfortable and he really needs to pee. But he won't be able to leave the bed on his own. Merlin, he still doesn't feel better, he feels feverish and dizzy and tired, his chest is hurting and his nose is still blocked, but running constantly, there is a pool of snot on his pillow.

He's disgusting.

The hand towel he was using to sneeze on isn't in sight, which is another problem, his nose is burning and itching and he really needs to sneeze.

He didn't have time to think before releasing five giant sneezes in his pillow. It's totally ruined. Great. Why is he like that? He's useless, he's disgusting.

"Oh, honey, God bless you," Regulus cooes. He had woken him up, he didn't want to wake him up, but he did. "I'll be right back, don't move."

"You don't have to," he mumbles with his face still buried in the pillow, afraid to worsen everything and make more of a mess. "Reg, you really don't have to, I'm fine."

He doesn't think he sounded convincing, his voice is stuffy and muffled. Regulus leaves anyway.

"Here you go," he says while showing him a box of tissues. "Now lift your head so I can clean you up."

He shakes his head, he's not a baby. Not even toddlers need to be cleaned up, he shouldn't need to either.

"James, lift your head, we'll get you cleaned up and I'll scourgify our bed."

He really doesn't want to, but he'll always do anything Regulus asks him to.

"I can't."

And because James is the luckiest person alive and found the most perfect person alive to marry, Regulus helps him get up.

"Do you need to use the toilet?"

"I'd like to, and then take a shower."

"We'll compromise on a bath, what do you think?"

He shrugs, trying to leave the bed on his own. It's still a bad idea, though, he isn't strong enough for it, which is frustrating. He just wants to feel alright again.

"Come on," Regulus takes his hand. "I'll help you."

"You don't hahh HAH'TSHH HEH'SHGGD HAH'ISSHEW sndrkk sorry."

"Don't apologise for sneezing, James, you're sick, you have the one of the worst cases of flu that I've ever seen. People sneeze when they have the flu."

"But I'll get you sick."

"You won't, remember? Your mom gave you a potion that stopped you from being contagious."

"They came? You promised me you wouldn't let them come."

"Don't you remember? What's the last thing you remember?"

"I don't know, it's all fuzzy. Pete was here, Lily too, they helped me. Moony and Sirius came too, didn't they?"

"They're in the living room."

"What time is it?"

"Half past four, they're asleep now."

"I'm sorry I woke you up."

"I'm glad you did, now come on, let's get you cleaned up, a warm bath will do you good."

"Aren't you tired? You need to rest too, Reg."

"I know what I can or can't take, James."

"I told Moony the same thing the other night."

Regulus freezes in place, his face blank. "James, love," he says in a soft and caring way, like he's pitying James. "I should have known better than letting you go with them that night."

"We would have probably fought if you had tried to forbid me from going," he takes off his clothes, his whole body starting to shiver, and gets in the bathtub. "And I wasn't feeling so bad then, truly."

"I just think... I don't know, I should have known you weren't well, I shouldn't have gone to work."

James shakes his head. "Don't blame yourself, how would you know? It sounded like a mild cold."

"I don't know, I just wish I could have done more to help, if I had noticed it sooner, you wouldn't have gotten dehydrated to the point of being delirious."

"You couldn't have known, Reggie, you can't see the future, you didn't even take divination in Hogwarts."

"You're still my husband and I should have paid more attention to you. I'm a bloody doctor, I should have noticed."

"Being my husband doesn't maah snff make you able toh heh heh'tshhh huh'ishhh HEH'ISHH snff Merlin," he sniffles and sighs. "Bei'g mby husba'd sdrrrk hih'tshh snffff doesn't make you able to read my mind. It doesn't make you a lehh heh'ISHH snff a legilimens."

"Oh, James, is your nose bothering you?" Regulus seems to be mocking him, is he mocking him? Maybe he doesn't love him anymore, James is a nuisance. A bloody liability. Regulus puts a folded piece of toilet paper over James' nose. "Come on, blow your nose. It'll help you, I promise."

See? James is a liability. A very sick one, he's violently shivering and his nose is running, maybe that's why Reg asked him to blow it, he's disgusting.

He does blow his nose, though, because he'll do any and everything Regulus asks him to. Regulus has him at the palm of his hand, really. Oh, he's ridiculously in love with him.

He hears Regulus chuckling. "I'm ridiculously in love with you too."

James blushes. "I didn't say anything, did I?"

"What do you mean? Of course you did, you've just said that," he says in a rush. "James, tell me you remember saying that."

"I remember thinking that."

"Oh, no," he cries. "No, no, no. No. It's fine. You're fine. Deep breaths, slow and deep breaths. We're fine, everything is fine. You're fine. You're fine, aren't you?"

"Reg, you're scaring me." He has to do something, doesn't he? He should know how to help. He does know how to help, but he can't access this bloody part of his brain. He's feeling weird again. His brain is weird.

Reg had told him he felt confused before because he was dehydrated, so maybe he should drink water.

"James, what are you doing?!" He hears Regulus screaming and stops, freezing in place, his hands cupped, trying to take the water to his mouth.

"You're going to have a panic attack. I'm feeling woozy. So I'm drinking water so I can help you."

Regulus shakes his head, his eyes wide and unfocused. "I'll get you some water, alright? Don't drink your bath's water."

He doesn't really know how to answer. He needs to feel alright quickly so he can help Reg. He has to help Reg.

"Here you go, love, do you need help?"

"'m alright," he assures him, "you don't have to worry."

"Do you need help, James?"

"I'm alright, really, just give it to me."

"James, love, I can't understand what you're saying."

"What do you mean you can't understand me?"

"Don't move. Don't you fucking dare to do anything but breathe until I'm back here. You can understand me, right? I hope you do. Please don't move."

"You're scared. Don't be scared, I'm alright."

"Don't move, James."

He doesn't.

Regulus leaves the bathroom and doesn't come back for some time, he can't tell how long, but he's feeling colder than before, his whole body shivering and his teeth shattering.

As soon as he comes back, he grabs his wand to do something, then his face shifts from a bit scared to a full panic. No, Reg, there's no need to be afraid, everything is fine.

Strangely, he can't feel his mouth moving, he thinks it didn't.

"This is bad," he whispers to him. "James, love, you're really really sick right now. I need you to get up so we can take you back to bed. I'll dry you with a spell so you don't feel colder than you already are."

He doesn't have the strength to get up and Regulus can't lift him on his own. he'll have to stay there. He's not feeling so bad, is he? "huh'tshh hah'tishh hah'ishh" Alright, something's off. He tries to lift his arm to rub his nose (Merlin, it's itching), but it isn't obeying his brain. And sneezing is so tiring, why is sneezing so tiring?

"Oh, love," Regulus cooes while cleaning his nose for him. That's a bit embarrassing. "You must be feeling awful."

I'm alright.

"I'll ask Sirius for help, alright? They'll help