#in sickness and in health

[chahnniesroom]

in sickness and in health

pairing: kim seungmin x female reader

summary: you're the most important thing in seungmin's life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you. it means that taking care of you when you're not feeling well comes naturally.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: a little bit of angst, sickness (fever, feeling nauseous, etc.)

a/n: partially inspired by me being ill at work and my amazing coworkers taking care of me and making sure i didn't faint lol.

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Seungmin loves being an idol. 

He loves to sing and performing in front of Stays always thrills him. He loves the other members and really, everyone else that he gets a chance to work with. At times it can be stressful, but for the most part, it’s fairly easy to manage the downsides of being famous.

But when he started dating you, he found out that there are parts of being an idol that he hates.

He always thought that he'd be different from a lot of idols and wouldn't be afraid to show his partner off. The second he met you though, he knew he'd do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe. You understand, of course, and do your part to make sure that only your closest friends and family are aware of who you're dating.

It pains Seungmin to do this, but he knows nothing good can come out of your identity being known.

The two of you are more than careful, sometimes Seungmin feels silly with how cautious he is about meeting up with you. Yet somehow his heart always feels like it will beat out of his chest whenever he sees articles that speculate about idol relationships.

You do your best to stop him from stressing, but it’s something that Seungmin can't quite shake. You're the most important thing in his life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you.

—

The first time his phone rings during a livestream with the whole group, Seungmin brushes it off. The caller ID says it's an unknown number and everyone he knows has been receiving a lot of spam calls and texts lately. 

He swipes away the notification and tries to focus on just reading comments when the same number calls back, a couple minutes later. He ignores it again, but on the third call, he nudges Chan’s knee beside him and subtly tilts his phone screen so that Chan can see. His phone is on silent so nobody watching the live should be able to tell that he's getting the calls, but the timing feels too coincidental for him not to be suspicious. 

"They keep calling," he says under his breath. 

"We'll get someone to look into the number later, just keep ignoring it," Chan advises quietly.

Seungmin takes a quick screenshot of the number, then tries to get back into the conversation to distract himself. The next time he looks down at his phone again, someone is once again calling him.

Seungmin almost reflexively rejects the call, until he realises it's your nickname flashing up on his screen.

You generally don’t call Seungmin without warning, especially not during the day when there’s a higher chance that Seungmin won’t be able to readily answer.

[sent - 3:12 pm]

sorry baby, working right now, can it wait?

His stomach drops when you just call again in response. He doesn’t want to alarm any of the members or the fans when he doesn’t know what’s going on, but he has a bad feeling about this. He once again flashes his phone to Chan briefly and leans in close.

“I want to take this, I don’t know why she’s calling, but something doesn’t seem right.”

Chan bites his lip, obviously torn for a second, before he seems to make up his mind.

“We’ve been live for almost 20 minutes, give me one second and we’ll end it so that you can talk to her, yeah?” Chan puts a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder and squeezes it tightly for a moment before clapping his hands together, effectively ending the conversation that the rest of the members were having.

Seungmin makes himself smile as they all say goodbye, but it's obvious that it's forced.

Even though the live ended as quickly as possible, Seungmin still has 2 new missed calls by the time he’s found himself an empty room to use.

"Hello?"

"Uhm hello, is this Min?" a man asks hesitantly. His voice is unfamiliar and it scares Seungmin. The only thing that brings a little bit of comfort is knowing that you’re careful to never call Seungmin by his full name when talking about him with friends or coworkers, you even have his contact information set as a nickname.

"Who is this?" he asks instead. “Where’s Y/n?”

"My name is Hyunwoo, I work with Y/n-ssi. I’m very sorry for interrupting you, but Y/n-ssi said that you were one of her emergency contacts. We tried to call with another number previously, but weren’t able to reach you."

“Sorry, I generally do not answer calls from unknown numbers. Is Y/n okay?” Seungmin swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can I- can I please speak to her?”

“She’s just not feeling well and needs to go home. She’s resting in another room, but I can get her, one moment please.” 

There’s a bit of background noise, the sound of footsteps, murmuring, then finally, your voice.

“Minnie?” you ask, sounding groggy. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I know you were working today.”

“Hey baby, it’s okay. You don't have to worry about me. You know that you’re more important than work to me right? I’m glad you got them to call me. How are you doing?”

“I'm tired. I'm okay, just, I was feeling light-headed and have a headache so I can't work. Hyunwoo said he thinks I have a fever.”

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up and bring you home then. Just continue resting until I get there. I'll see you soon.”

Seungmin doesn’t know what he’d do without the other members. As soon as he finishes explaining the situation to them, they’re already calling a car and working out schedules so that there aren’t any problems.

—

Hyunwoo eyes Seungmin carefully when they first meet, likely due to the face mask and hat he's wearing. When Seungmin removes the mask and shakes Hyunwoo’s hand, he's relieved when he doesn't appear to recognise him. It's not exactly a surprise, men are generally less likely to follow k-pop groups and Seungmin hardly looks like an idol when he's barefaced and in the jeans and t-shirt that he wore for the live.

“Thank you for calling me, Hyunwoo-ssi,” Seungmin says. “Sorry I didn’t pick up at first.”

“It’s okay, Min-ssi. Y/n-ssi mentioned that your work might make you difficult to contact.” Seungmin appreciates that Hyunwoo doesn’t make any attempt to pry further.

“And thank you for taking care of Y/n.”

“It’s not a problem. Y/n-ssi is a pleasure to work with and we all want her to get better as quickly as possible. Come with me, I’ll bring you to her.”

You’re lying in a small meeting room that has all the lights off and blinds drawn. The table and chairs have all been shifted to the side to fit a yoga mat that has been laid out. You squint up at Seungmin from under a mis-match of jackets with your head resting on a pillow that matches the couches that were in the reception area of your office.

“Minnie?” Your voice is soft and a little bit confused.

“Yes, it’s me, Y/n. How’re you feeling?”

Seungmin rushes to your side, crouching on the carpet so that he can cup your cheek. Your skin is flushed and hot to the touch. You reach out a hand and he clasps it tightly with his free hand.

“Mm, I wanna go home.”

“Let’s go home then.”

The company car is still parked outside of your office building, close enough that you insist on walking yourself. Seungmin tries not to hover, but he makes sure to keep his arm looped around your waist so that you don’t stumble. The drive back to your place is fairly short, but when Seungmin glances over you’re looking unwell. Maybe it’s just the dim lighting from the backseat, but you look paler than usual and your eyes are closed.

“You feeling okay?” Seungmin asks, squeezing your hand.

“A bit nauseous,” you murmur.

“We’re almost there, just take a few deep breaths through your nose for me.”

Even though it's only a few minutes before they pull onto the street that you live on, it feels like forever. Seungmmin tries to keep you preoccupied by rubbing circles into your palm. Instead of trying to help you out of the car and into your apartment, Seungmin thanks the company driver and opts to just carry you all the way in. 

He helps to change you out of your work clothes and tucks you into your bed. You link your fingers together and protest when Seungmin attempts to leave your side.

“I promise I'll be back in a second, I just want to get some things to help you feel better, okay?” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You agree, but reluctantly.

Seungmin tries to stay quiet as he rummages around your apartment, gathering some medicine, a thermometer, a glass of water, and some crackers. Next he dampens a face cloth and brings everything to your bedside table, folding up the cloth and laying it across your forehead. 

He supports you in sitting up slightly to take your temperature, brushing his fingers through your hair as you wait for enough time to pass. You lean into his touch slightly, humming in pleasure when Seungmin switches to giving you a light head massage. When the thermometer beeps, it confirms what Hyunwoo suspected, you have a low grade fever.

“You have a bit of a fever,” Seungmin tells you, keeping his voice low. “Do you feel up to having some water and medicine? It'll help you feel better, I think.”

“Okay,” you say, taking the pills that Seungmin hands you and swallowing them with a bit of water.

“Do you want to rest some more now? I want you to stay hydrated so I can make broth for you or get juice.”

“Do you have another schedule? You don't have to stay and take care of me.”

“I don't have to, I want to. And what did I say earlier? Don't worry about me. I'm not missing anything important.”

“So you are missing something,” you insist, your stubbornness making itself known. Seungmin can't help but find it endearing, especially the way that your bottom lip juts out to form a pout.

“Just vocal lessons. I already know how to sing, so it’s fine. Innie had his scheduled for tomorrow, the two of us are going to swap.”

“Oh,” you say, apparently satisfied by that.

“See, nothing to worry about. Now, what did you want? Broth or juice?”

“Broth,” you decide. “But that means you'll have to leave again. I don't want to be alone.”

Seungmin hesitates for a moment before reaching for something resting on the side of your bed.

“You won't be alone, Daengmo will keep you company, okay?”

Seungmin had gifted the stuffed dog to you the first time he had gone abroad after the two of you had started dating, even though it was only to Japan. You had insisted that he keep it at first, knowing how fond he was of the toy, but he had convinced you that it would prevent you from missing him whenever he was away.

“M'kay,” you say sleepily, wrapping your arms around Daengmo.

“You can close your eyes while I'm gone and I'll be back before you know it.”

“I'm not tired,” you say, although even in the dim lighting Seungmin can see that your eyes are starting to droop. “I'm going to stay awake until you come back.”

“Whatever you say,” Seungmin replies.

He leaves your room, closing the door behind him quietly, and heads towards the kitchen.

Seungmin prepares a couple of pots to make you soup. The first he prepares with some ingredients to make a simpler version of a ginseng chicken soup. He knows it'll take a while to cook though, so he adds water, powdered chicken broth, and ginger to the second. Within a few minutes, the clear broth is ready to serve.

Seungmin scoops a portion of it into a mug and slips an ice cube in so that you won't burn your mouth trying to drink it. He makes his way back to your room as quickly as he can, but careful to avoid the liquid sloshing over the sides.

When he eases the door open, he's greeted with the side of you with your eyes closed, clutching Daengmo tightly. Your breaths are deep and even, although you stir slightly when he sets the mug down on your nightstand.

“I'm here now," he reassures you quietly. “You just keep resting.”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say in a small voice.

“Of course, I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[renegadesstuff]

Carlos & Tyler

***

05.16.2023 🤍

Happy 10 months to them 💍

[skulls-soul]

Guuuuuys imagine with me

We got classic sick fics in where one character is sick and the other has to take care of them on both sides I’ve seen fics where luigi is sick and one’s where Bowser is

But what if

✨their both sick✨

Just imagine Bowser Looking at Luigi asking him where he’s going and Luigi turns to him with a sad kicked Puppy look on his face saying that he’s “going back to the bathroom” Bowser comments on how that’s the third time he went to the bathroom in the past hour, and Luigi responds saying he can’t help it His tummy hurts and he feels nauseous.

So Bowser sluggishly gets off of bed and he’s like I’ll come with you and give you company and Lou’s like “no babe You don’t have to do that I’m fine” and bowser is just like “you’re shivering like a leaf you’re not ok” and luigi responds with “what about you? You are as pale as a ghost, and I would know!”

Like give me Bowser talking about how his body is so heavy and how he feels like he’s gained 1000 pounds and when he tries to eat he can’t stop shaking so Luigi feeds him instead and Bowser’s like “no you should focus on eating not feeding me” only for Weegee to shush him.

Give me Bowser and Luigi clinging onto each other for body warmth

Give me kamek coming in to give them medicine only for both of them to grown because that shit taste nasty

Give me Bowser trying to kiss Luigi only for Luigi to try and push them off because “my mouth taste bad and your covered in snot”

 Both of them go to take a shower to clean off the sickness so that way they could give each other Smoochies without fear (or disgust)

[reasonandfaithinharmony]

Unedited gif ask: Deleted Tarlos wedding cake scene!

Thank you so much for the ask, @chicgeekgirl89!

Oh, I love this scene so much. Choosing just one gif is an extremely difficult task. I think the obvious choice is probably frosting-covered Carlos leaning in for a kiss from his frosting-covered husband…

But at the last minute, I had to go with this one:

I'm sorry, but the expressions on their faces are priceless. Carlos is so proud of himself. TK is so surprised and amused by his husband. I am forever thinking about the way they look at each other here. 🥰

Unedited Gif Game

[feysandfeels]

To me it is very funny how people went from loving loving Rhysand in TAR, MAF and WAR, to hating him in SF, because this is the equivalent of when your crush cuts their hair and you go "oh, maybe it wasn't that serious."

[delimeful]

in sickness and in health (7)

warnings: arguing, fear/panic, lying, injury mention, gratuitous sarcasm, lmk if i missed any!

-

Virgil exchanged one quick, panicked glance with his attacker-turned-rescuer, and knew he was screwed.

Regardless of their sudden, deeply suspicious change of heart, there was no way this guy was going to stick around to get caught on behalf of a Monoxide borrower, former member or not.

And if they stayed, they would be caught. Virgil was already as good as in Roman’s hand, his escape interrupted at the worst possible moment. Perched at the top of the pitcher without a hook to grapple down with, he was essentially stranded above a bone-breaking drop.

The moment the other borrower bolted, Roman would be spurred into action, and Virgil would be right back in the pitcher where he’d started.

Maybe with a fellow captive, depending on how quick the borrower was.

… The concussed borrower. Right, so they were both screwed.

Heart racing, Virgil let the rope fall from his grip, keeping a steadying hand on the thin lip of the pitcher as he turned to wait for the human’s approach.

The human, who was still standing there, gesticulating wildly. Had he been talking at them this entire time?

“--realized they were suspiciously well-timed firecrackers, and you know what they always say about timing in my Theater 102 course–,” he continued, before abruptly cutting himself off. “Hey! Excuse you, I’m trying to have a conversation here!”

Virgil turned to see that the other borrower had simply started walking away. They glanced over at him briefly, their carefully faux-casual gait not even stuttering.

“Oh, no, do go on,” they drawled with an eye roll, like they were bickering with an annoying stranger in a colony instead of sassing a human. “I was so deeply entertained by your self-congratulatory monologue.”

Virgil held his breath, feeling slightly faint as he waited for violence to ensue.

Roman squinted at them for a long moment, and then smiled beatifically. “Why, thank you! It’s good to know someone around here appreciates my theatrical flair. Not everyone can pull off the flair required for such a thrilling aha moment, you know.”

“Mhmm,” the stranger agreed, sounding entirely insincere and yet somehow managing to prompt Roman into an entirely new tangent about dramatic reveals and cliffhangers. They met Virgil’s wide-eyed incredulous stare with an extremely smug look.

They weren’t actually walking away, he realized belatedly, but towards the bag Virgil had abandoned on the counter when they’d had their first unfortunate encounter.

His bag held all his recent borrowings, and more importantly, his hook, which was basically the only thing that could feasibly get him down from his current conundrum without endangering the other borrower further.

They weren’t leaving him. Like an insane person, they were actually trying to salvage the situation, and somehow, it was working.

“--believe that they cast me as an understudy for that chronic overactor, it’s practically criminal!” Roman continued.

“That’s not the only thing that’s criminal,” the stranger muttered, looking as though they’d heard this particular speech one too many times before.

“What was that?” Roman asked, and then seemed to process that they’d traversed a good chunk of countertop. “Wait, where are you going?”

He stepped forward slightly, craning his neck to see around the warped glass of the pitcher, and Virgil felt his grip on the glass grow tangibly sweaty. The stranger, crouched next to Virgil’s bag, paused mid-rummage.

“I’m merely trying to multitask,” they replied, blinking innocently. “I’d just love to sit here and listen to you go on and on all night, but I have my own pressing responsibilities to fulfill. Ones that you– or rather, mostly your twin, of course– have already complicated.”

“Responsibilities?” This earned them a dubious up-and-down glance. “Like… catching dewdrops in flower petals, or...?”

Virgil wondered if the human was nearsighted, to miss that vexed eyebrow twitch.

“Contrary to your entirely flattering assumptions,” they grit out, “I am actually here on much more pressing business. The life-or-death kind.”

“No way.” Intrigued, Roman shuffled closer, entirely drawn in by the mystery of it all. “I mean, we knew it was serious, with Patton ending up in the hospital and all, but it really wasn’t just an accident? We thought it had to be ghosts for sure, but if there’s fairy criminals– Are there fairy assassins?!”

Virgil felt his blood run cold, as though he’d just plunged through a sheet of too-thin ice and dropped into freezing waters. And yet even through the shock, the symbol branded on his arm had never felt more searing.

The stranger met his terrified gaze through their own burn scars. The two of them had been marked by the same hands, and both of them knew exactly how spot-on Roman’s guess really was.

The moment they told him what Virgil was, the moment they revealed the bloodstained legacy he’d been born into, it was over. Patton had fallen deathly ill, and a human-murdering cult member had been sneaking around in his walls. No matter how oblivious Roman could be, he was more than smart enough to connect the dots.

They might not be his humans, but Virgil had seen enough of the twins to know exactly how vicious they could be in defense of their friends.

He was as good as dead.

The stranger’s expression flattened out, and they looked away with a sharp jerk of their head.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that. I don’t specialize in assassins,” they lied, voice airy.

While Virgil attempted to remember how to breathe, Roman had uncapped a pen and was frantically scribbling shorthand notes on his arm, apparently vividly inspired by the implication that there were fairy assassins out there.

As casual as anything, the stranger tucked the metal curve of Virgil’s hook into the loop of his belt. His gaze was unreadable as it flitted over Virgil, but this time, it didn’t linger.

“Oh, oh, I’ve got it!” Roman announced. “You two are partners! The grizzled veteran and the bright-eyed rookie, a classic crime-solving set up!”

Virgil didn’t even want to know who had been assigned what role. The stranger seemed to be thinking along the same lines, spreading their hands disarmingly as they responded.

“Oh, so close!” they said, a hint of mockery in their smile. “Actually, the criminal that I’m bringing to justice… is your unwitting trespasser up there.”

With a suitably shocked gasp, Roman turned to stare at Virgil. The stranger also turned to stare at Virgil, but at a considerably slower pace, wearing the sort of malicious glee that one typically saw in a cartoon cat that had successfully caught the canary.

Oh, you lying snake.

The scornful words tangled up in his throat the moment the human’s heavy gaze landed on him, years of deeply-ingrained instincts keeping him entirely mute.

So instead, he lifted up his free hand and flipped them off with as much vitriol as he could feasibly work into a single gesture.

“See how the miscreant wounds me even now,” the stranger said, pressing the back of their hand against their head as though they might enter a swooning faint from the offense. “Clearly, a human as quick-witted as you can understand how important it is that I complete my task and make them pay for their crimes.”

Roman nodded emphatically, completely taken in. “That’s why you were helping them out of the pitcher! Not to help them escape, but to prevent them from escaping the firm hand of justice!”

“I knew you’d understand,” the stranger agreed pleasantly, taking a few steps towards Virgil and his makeshift glass prison. “In that case, if you’ll just stand aside while I retrieve the culprit in question…”

“Oh, of course!” Roman replied, and then cast a considering look at where Virgil was dangling. “Actually, since it’s our fault— really, more Remus’s— that you have to go to the trouble in the first place, let me just—,”

“There’s no need for that, truly,” the stranger tried to cut in, clearly having caught on faster than Virgil. Their words were rushed, but still not fast enough to prevent Roman from reaching out and plucking Virgil off the edge of the pitcher, easy as anything.

Easy for Roman, anyways. Personally, being abruptly lifted into the air by a hand bigger than him was causing some difficulties for Virgil.

Mostly the fact that if this kept up, the heart palpitations were going to take him out before the humans or murderous victim of his former cult could.

“There we are,” Roman announced grandly, holding Virgil slightly aloft in front of the stranger in offering, like he’d grabbed them a tissue instead of an entire living person.

Virgil made eye contact with the other borrower, who looked mildly chagrined, and then gave in to the feral raccoon that lived in the back of his mind and twisted around to bite the human.

“Jiminy fucking Christmas,” Roman swore, immediately dropping Virgil as though burnt. “You bit me!”

Virgil made a sound like a deflating air mattress as he hit the ground backfirst, the impact knocking the wind out of him.

“Did you see that? They bit me!”

He ignored the sting of rapidly-forming bruises to roll to his hands and knees, his breathing coming in wheezing stops and starts as he tried to refill his lungs. There were borrower-sized steps approaching, and Virgil snapped his head up to glare furiously at the stranger. “Don’t.”

They stopped short, holding their hands up in a mockery of nonaggression.

“I can’t believe you bit me, and not Remus!” Roman had never sounded more offended.

Right. That was a cue to leave if Virgil had ever heard one.

He got to his feet, attention already locked onto the nearest wall entrance, and staggered the first few steps forward before a hand latched onto his wrist.

“Stop right there,” the stranger said, the words demanding but the tone of voice closer to a warning. “You’re not going anywhere like that.”

Virgil was tempted to take a swing at the guy, since apparently the first concussion hadn’t knocked enough common sense back into their head. He yanked his arm away with a scowl, but then froze mid-motion at a flicker of movement overhead.

“Don’t try me.” Roman had overcome his affronted shock long enough to move a hand to hover ominously over Virgil, clearly prepared to intercede if he tried to make a run for it. “Remus has brought over seventeen feral rats into our home, I am extremely well-trained in grabbing without getting bitten.”

“How convenient for me,” the stranger said, their gaze fixed squarely on Virgil. “If you would turn around? I obviously can’t take you back until you’re properly secured, and it’ll make things easier on all of us if you just play along.”

Virgil glared back in silence for a long moment.

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand their scheme. It was an insanely risky ploy that required extensive knowledge of the human in question, but the end goal was clearly to get the both of them back into the walls and safely out of human hands.

It was just that the last time he’d turned his back on this particular borrower, they’d literally attempted to run him through. Virgil found he wasn’t too keen on putting his undefended back to a guy who had tried to test out the structural integrity of his internal organs less than thirty minutes ago.

Unfortunately, the alternative was testing the structural integrity of his internal organs against a human who had dropped him less than thirty seconds ago.

Virgil turned around, his entire body drawn taut with tension, and let the stranger wrap some twine around his wrists in an ineffective parody of handcuffs.

“Perfect,” the stranger said, nudging at Virgil’s heels until he got the hint and started their trek towards the wall. “And now, thanks to your gracious interference, our villain can be tried for their crimes in front of a judge with the appropriate legal representation. The system is unimpeachable, the punishment will fit the crime, good triumphs over evil once more, et cetera.”

“‘Et cetera’?” Virgil muttered incredulously.

“You shut up,” the stranger whispered back.

“You know, when I heard about fairy courts, I was kind of envisioning something entirely different,” Roman mused, before visibly refocusing. “Wait wait wait, you can’t just leave! You haven’t even revealed the dastardly crime, or how they almost got away with it, or how you figured them out!”

“Oh, I really can’t delay. Fairy court is just so very time-sensitive, I’m afraid,” the stranger lied without hesitation, continuing to march Virgil forward as smoothly as possible. “I’ll have to return to tell you all about it later– of course, you’ll have to keep this little encounter to yourself. We aren’t typically supposed to disclose such sensitive information to anyone, let alone humans, but I’ve found myself irresistibly charmed by your moxie.”

“Aw, you’re just saying that!” Roman flapped a hand in faux-modesty, and then gasped. “Was I the bright-eyed rookie all along?”

Before the stranger could answer, Remus slid into the kitchen on socked feet, with so much momentum that he slammed against the counter. The painful thud of torso meeting marble did absolutely nothing to deter the grin on his face.

“Okay, bad news, I totally biffed my half of the divide-and-conquer plan. Good news, the other little guy is cool as hell and I’m calling dibs on hanging out with that one in advance,” he announced, and then visibly focused on the two borrowers in front of him. “Woah, what did I just walk in on?”

“You can’t call dibs in advance,” Roman instantly retorted, and then smacked Remus’s shoulder. “Stop being gross, the handcuffs are because they’re being taken away to fairy jail. After facing a trial required by fairy due process, I guess.”

The stranger’s grip on Virgil’s arm tightened, and they sped up their pace for the first time since Roman had entered the room. Virgil would feel more reassured if they weren’t still moving at a very ‘definitely-concussed’ sort of rate.

“I leave for five minutes, and you hand our puny poltergeist over to the cops?” Remus demanded, stretching his arm forward to block their way. “Ro-bro, it’s like you want me to disown you.”

“I would so disown you first, and you know it,” Roman hissed back. “Besides, they’re not a cop, they’re like, the fairy version of a hardboiled detective!”

“I don’t care how gay the detective is, that still counts as a cop!”

Unable to progress past Remus’s flesh barricade, Virgil glanced back at the stranger; they were pinching the bridge of their nose with visible irritation.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“Like what?” they snapped back, voice equally quiet. “Anything I would say to fool Roman, Remus will rebuff! Anything I would say to convince Remus, Roman will reject! There’s no winning with these two!”

“Oh, great, so we really are screwed,” Virgil bit out.

“Not necessarily,” the stranger replied, unconvincingly. “They’re still distractible by nature. If we contribute to the argument, rile them up–,”

“‘Rile them up’?!” Virgil twisted around further so they could get the full effect of his disbelieving expression. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. That’s insane. You’re insane. We’re going to die.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I suppose you preferred being stuck in the pitcher?” they retorted sharply. “Far be it from me to inconvenience the cultist who fractured my skull!”

“I’m not– You tried to stab me first!”

Whatever they said next was entirely drowned out by the twins, who had escalated their own fight into near-shouting territory. Virgil was only catching every other word, but it sounded like they were yelling about a completely unrelated topic.

Every time Remus responded, his arm lifted slightly further off the counter, like he was only barely resisting the urge to put his brother in a headlock. Virgil locked onto the movement, a spike of anticipation filling him.

“Shut up, shut up,” he interrupted the stranger, ignoring their irritated scowl. “Look!”

The moment they noticed the potential escape route, their displeasure instantly fell away in favor of smugness. “See? I told you they were distractible. My plans always work out perfectly.”

The kitchen light flicked on and off a few times, startling the twins into silence and drawing every eye to the figure standing in the doorway.

“Hey, kiddos,” Patton said, rubbing a hand sleepily over his face. “It’s called a sleepover, not a shoutover. What’s going on?”

Stranded out in the open with three humans looming over them, the stranger endured Virgil’s scathing look with a pained grimace.

“Alright, fine. We’re screwed.”

[theexodvs]

Was it going to be an surprise that the guy who nipped my ankles about me moving warm fuzzies, "emotional fulfillment" and other DCOM-tier trash far away from the center of my relationship would also be the same person who's unwilling to commit to his own relationship by marrying his girlfriend?

[petermorwood]

Late Post to the rescue...

After last week’s Incident Of Forgetting My Mask, which gave us both colds (though fortunately nothing worse, thanks to flu shots and boosters) I was not exactly in @dduane​‘s best books. Nor mine, come to that, especially after far more careful mask-wearing had avoided so much as a sniffle for three years.

Then a late Christmas present arrived on Wednesday.

What with one thing and another, the past couple of Christmases have been a bit sparing of extravagant gifts, but this year, thanks to planning in advance, I could splurge a bit.

So while she knew she was getting a bottle of the Roger & Gallet eau de cologne she’s always liked, I hadn’t told her what size it was.

And really soon now, her cold will clear enough that she can smell it.

  :->

[roominthecastle]

You're a grown man, I shall say this only once more: You need to take your medicine and rest.

[patchesbeanie]

sometimes i'm struck by the reality of dream team finally being together and dream being able to live his life

[apparentlyautistick]

was reading a fic when the author posted a new chapter- which turned out to not be a chapter, rather an informative essay about the genocide and ethnic cleansing going on in Palestine and how people could help. I hate that it’s going on in the first place but at the same time I’m so proud of the author and immensely happy that the crimes committed by Israel are being discussed even especially in the world of fanfiction.

[renegadesstuff]

Carlos & Tyler

***

05.16.2023 🤍

Happy 6 months to them 💍

[just-a-girl-who-wrytes]

@alisbackalleybbq

Thank you for your request, love! 😘

In Sickness and in Health

“Baby, wake up.” Deacon pressed his lips against your forehead.

You groaned as you woke up and noticed you were physically hot, but started shivering.

“Here, open your mouth.”

You were half asleep, but did as you were told. You felt the cool tip of a thermometer underneath of your tongue.

“Now close.”

You obeyed.

A few moments later, the thermometer beeped and you heard Deacon hum.

“Time for this, but you gotta sit up, babe.”

You cracked your eyes open and furrowed your eyebrows at your 6’2” boyfriend sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Your temperature is 102, sweetheart. I’ve got you some Tylenol and Ibuprofen to help get it down and help you feel better.

You sat up in bed, slowly, to ease the wooziness that came with sitting upright. You took a sip of your gatorade to be met with what felt like razor blades in your throat.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Deacon asked tenderly when he noticed you grimace.

“It feels like I’ve got strep throat,” you said softly.

“Fallin’ to pieces on me.”

You looked at Deacon as he smirked.

Taking your medicine was excruciating, but you managed before laying back down and wrapping up and drifting off again.

Before you realized it, David was waking you up again. This time, to get you up and help you get dressed for the doctor.

“The doctor?” You asked. Your mind was fuzzy from feeling unwell and sleeping so hard.

“Yes, babe. I called and got you in to a strep test and a flu test. See if we can’t get you some antibiotics to get your throat feeling better and see why else you feel horrible.”

You smiled tiredly at him. He handed you one of his hoodies and kissed you gently on the temple. Once you were as comfortable as you could get in leggings, uggs, and your husband’s hoodie, he held out his hand to you. You smiled and took it, allowing him to guide you downstairs and out to his truck. He drove you to the doctor’s appointment, never leaving your side as you got swabbed for strep and flu, both of them coming back positive.

You were given antibiotics for the strep throat and advised for supportive care for the flu. After your appointment, Deacon drove you to the pharmacy to pick up your medicine.

As you waited in the drive through, you leaned over and kissed David’s cheek.

“I love you so much, baby. Thank you for taking of me.”

He reached his arm under your chin, holding your head to his shoulder.

“It’s what I am here for. I love you too, beautiful.”

He paid for your medicine and took you to Starbucks on your way home, ordering your favorite fall drink - spiced apple cider.

Once you arrived home, you undressed and put on one of your husband’s shirts, and snuggled up on the couch while he busied himself in the kitchen.

You laid there, watching true crime shows and noticed David hadn’t joined you yet when you noticed the smell of something cooking. You didn’t bother to lean up and look back towards your kitchen to see what he was down.

“Babe, what are you doing? I’m lonely.” You joked.

He chuckled, “Gonna die from lack of attention?”

“Yesss!” You groaned.

A few moments of silence passed before David rounded the end of the couch with a bowl.

“Well it’s a good think you haven’t been starved of attention then, huh?”

He handed you a bowl.

“Homemade chicken noodle soup for my lady.”

“Deac….”

He disappeared back to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water, your antibiotics, and some vitamin c supplements.

“Meds please…” he said, indicating for you to take the antibiotics. You complied.

“And now eat as much as you can.” His voice was so soft and tender. “That way you don’t get sick.”

Once you finished as much soup as you could eat, you set the bowl on your end table, grabbed your blanket, and snuggled into David.

“You are too good to me, baby.”

He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your forehead.

“What was my promise to you?” He breathed into your hair, “For better or for worse, in sickness and in health.”

[reasonandfaithinharmony]

are deleted scenes eligible for your gif game? if so, can I request tk kissing carlos' shoulder during the wedding reception?

Thank you so much for the ask, anon!

If I have access to the video, I'm happy to include deleted scenes in the gif game.

This one is actually from promo footage, so the image quality is lower than it would have been as part of the full episode. But on the other hand, the lighting starts out much better.

A beautiful choice, anon. I do wish this had made the final cut. 🥺

Unedited Gif Game

[blindmagdalena]

Idk if you've written this before but imagine a sick homelander, or at least he's pretending to be sick after seeing you take care of someone else (niece? Nephew?) while they're sick and he wants the same attention

Just him lying on the couch whining about how unwell he feels and how you should baby him more.

Spoonfeed him and pet his hair. He's being such a good and brave boy for you, battling this unknown illness. Whaddya mean his forehead feels normal? You're not a doctor you wouldn't know sick supes are so don't ask too many questions and get back to loving him please

I have written sick Homelander before! However, him faking an illness is one thousand percent funnier.

"You don't feel like you have a temperature." "Well of course you can't feel it. My skin is impenetrable. I'm being cooked from the inside out. What, you don't believe me?" "No, no, of course I believe you. What can I do?" "I don't know," he says, knowing perfectly well what he wants. "Whatever you normally do when someone is sick." "Okay, come lay down. Here, under this blanket. There you go. Do you want a popsicle or something? Maybe soup?" He hesitates a moment. "Popsicle?" "Perfect, I'll get you a popsicle. If you get chills we can switch to soup. I'll be right back." The moment your back is turned, he smirks to himself. Snuggles in under the blanket that smells like you, and eagerly awaits the popsicle he'll indulge in while he rests up in your lap. Supe sickness is very serious, you know. He could stricken with it for hours, or... days. Depends on how much he's enjoying himself.

[tswaney17]

I have no idea where this one is going but it's here. 😂 Inspired by this prompt. 🫶 Thank you to @impossiblescissorspeachpaper for beta reading this hot mess. 💜

@elriel-month

Prompt: Peace and Quiet. 💙

I will not be posting full fics for Elriel Month on Tumblr this year. Check out the beginning snippet and link to read more below.

Elain knew her husband was sick before she even opened her eyes. In the night, he had managed to wrap himself around her, cradling her backside into his front, and buried his face into her swaths of hair. But that wasn’t unusual in the slightest—Azriel always managed to tangle himself around her while they slept. If she rolled away, it would only be a moment or two before she felt him follow her across the bed.

No, it wasn’t the excessive cuddling that confirmed he was under the weather. What gave away his illness before he had even cracked open an eye was the heat his body was radiating. It was hotter than normal and she knew he was running a temperature. A high one too that had her concerned.

Pair that with the crackling of his breaths and the fact that it was past dawn and he was still in bed.

The problem? Convincing Azriel that he was sick was more impossible than convincing him he was a butterfly. The stubborn male would deny his illness until he was on his deathbed. And even after that too.

Read More

~~~~~

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