#stomach fic

[kidovna]

anyone else go crazy reading the latest @campbyler chapter?

bonus:

[frownyalfred]

this is how I think Bruce Wayne drinks champagne at galas Clark is attending, just to fuck with him. shades of the real Bruce Wayne, gone before anyone can see them. no one else has super senses that can slow things down enough for them to see all the interlocking micro expressions, the sharpness that's there in his eyes for just one second.

[freetobeafcknriot]

grace & baby ben ♡ ( ͒ ඉ .̫ ඉ ͒)

[greenorangevioletgrass]

divorced single dad art x lily's babysitter younger!reader i know it's cliche but please can't stop thinking about it -@diorrfairy

ayyyy i was introduced to this concept by @too-deviant's fic and i haven't stopped thinking abt it since 🥵

you used to feel guilty. you were hired to look after the 5-year-old girl, not suck her father's dick after you put her to bed. but his ex-wife knows and doesn't seem to mind (from the way she shrugs and moves on when she first caught you making out with him in the kitchen, you might even think she encouraged it). and perhaps there is something wrong with you too, because after the third or fourth time, you stopped feeling bad.

when he pulls you into the guest room (always the guest room, never the primary), you simply kick the door closed behind you as he feverishly unbuttons your shirt. "you're so fucking sexy taking care of lily, makes me wanna knock you the fuck up and give you one of your own." he bends you over the crisp white sheets and drags your panties down. "does that come with a raise?" you smirk sardonically over your shoulder, watching him line himself up into your cunt. he wore a condom, of course, but that night, neither of you can help but pretend...

[whump-is-love-whump-is-life]

Screaming.

Please do not do this but I just screamed for 30 minutes so here’s what you should know.

Can’t do it continuously for very long, have to stop to breathe (amount of time and breaths it takes to recover depends on how long you hold it)

It is EXHAUSTING. Seriously, if your whumpee has been screaming for more than thirty seconds multiple times, they won’t have ANY energy to fight back against the whumper. My head was hanging down for a bit because I was just so tired. The exhaustion also caused dizziness when I stood up. Also it’s been around five minutes and my throat still hurts super bad.

Oddly, I could still talk, maybe a bit of rasp in my voice but still effectively and fairly easily. (Again, about thirty minutes with tiny breaks)

Seriously when the exhaustion hits, it hits H A R D

Mouth kinda hurts too tbh

Heart beats pretty rapidly during and shortly after

My head hurts

Both hurts and helps to cough

Update an hour later: slightly hurts throat to talk

Moral of the story:

Don’t scream so much that you exhaust yourself,

Make your whumpee scream to the whumpers content

[pizzaqueen]

Got a line in my head and wrote this around it. Just over 300 words of established relationship fluff

Eddie’s lying in his bed and Steve is next to him. The backs of their hands are pressed together between them and Eddie has his ankle hooked over Steve’s. He’s so full of love for Steve, and so full of Steve’s love for him, he wonders how his body can contain it all.

He loves Steve more than he thought he could ever love someone. He loves Steve in a way that he always thought was made up for movies or songs or whatever. But it’s not. It’s so real.

He glances at Steve, heart skipping a beat at how beautiful Steve is and says, “I want a tattoo.”

“You’ve already got some.”

Eddie rolls onto his side, propping himself on an elbow. “I want a new one.”

“What of?”

“Your name.”

Steve snorts, disbelieving, then he looks at Eddie. His brows raise. “You’re serious.”

It’s not a question, but Eddie nods.

“But…” Steve presses his lips together. Eddie waits for some kind of protest—it’s too risky, other people will see, will know—but when it comes, it’s not what he expected. Because Steve says, “It’s forever,” with an undercurrent of uncertainty that makes Eddie’s chest ache.

“So are you,” Eddie says, poking Steve in the side.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve smiles, looking as loved as Eddie feels; he tucks his hands behind his head and says, “Maybe I should get one too.”

Eddie’s heart leaps. “Of your name?”

“Oh, yeah, totally.” Steve shakes his head. “Of your name, you dork.”

“That,” Eddie says, clambering on top of Steve, straddling his thighs, “would be so hot.” He can’t believe he’s never considered the possibility of Steve with inked skin before, but now it fills his mind. Definitely hot. And that Steve’s first tattoo is going to be Eddie’s name… Fuck.

Steve reaches up, brushing Eddie’s hair out of his face. “You’re forever, too,” he says, a shared promise, and pulls Eddie down for a kiss.

[sicktember]

Sicktember 2024 Prompt-Based Resources to Help You Get Started! 💚

**Sicktember 2023 prompt-based resources can be found [Here]

Hangovers

What is a hangover [niaaa.nih.gov]

15 hangover horror stories [buzzfeed.com]

7 ways to cure your hangover [health.harvard.edu]

How to Write a Drunk Character [allwritealright.com]

Over Indulgence

Dealing with Food hangovers [health.usnews.com]

4 Ways to Stop Digestive Discomfort  [michiganmedicine.org]

I Ate Too Much. Now What Do I Do? [osfhealthcare.org]

Is It Possible… Stomach Explode? [popsci.com]

Campus/Con Crud

Crushing the Campus Crud [hercampus.com]

So What is Con Crud  [granitcon.com]

Coming Down With the Crud  [bmhsc.org]

Rogue Organs

What Is Appendicitis? [hopkinsmedicine.org]

Gallbladder Removal [nhs.uk]

Tonsillectomy [mayoclinic.org]

Spleen Problems and Removal [nhs.uk]

Dizziness/Vertigo

Understanding Vertigo [on.bluecross.ca]

Types of Vertigo [acare.abbott.com]

Dizziness vs. Vertigo [cornerstonephsio.com]

Medieval Treatment

Medicine in the Middle Ages [ncbi.nlm.nih.gov]

6 Medieval Medical Practices [guavahealth.com]

Healing Power of Maggots/Leeches (Modern) [mountainview-hospital.com]

When Medicine was Humorous [merryfarmer.wordpress.com]

Mononucleosis

About Mono [cdc.gov]

Mono For Teens [kidshealth.org]

How to Test for Mono [mountsinai.org]

Sick People Food

What People Around the World Eat When Sick [businessinsider.com]

Sick Day Foods Across the Globe  [nyubiteclub.com]

8 Best Foods to Eat When Feeling Sick [forbes.com]

Toxin/Poison

Poisons and Toxins [sciencelearn.org]

Poisoning. What The Doctors Do [thedoctorwillseeyounow.com]

Common HouseHold Poisons [cincinnatichildrens.org]

FAQs Carbon Monoxide Poisoning [cdc.gov]

Brain Fog/Spaced Out

What is Brain Fog [everydayhealth.com]

Understanding Brain Fog [henryford.com]

Causes of Zoning Out [verywellhealth.com]

Aches And Pains

What Causes Body Aches When Sick? [uclahealth.org]

5 Tips For Writing About Physical Pain [louiseharnbyproofreader.com]

Hypochondriac tendencies

Illness Anxiety Disorder [my.clevelandclinic.org]

Signs You May be a hypochondriac [centerforanxietydisorders.com]

10 Health Anxiety Myths  [happiful.com]

How To Write Anxiety [writerscookbook.com]

Anaphylactic Response

What is Anaphylaxis  [betterhealth.vic.gov.au]

Anaphylactic Shock: What You Need to Know [healthline.com]

Waiting Rooms

What happens in the emergency department [advocatehealth.com]

Triage and Emergency Assessment  [ncbi.nlm.nih.gov]

Setting Description: Emergency Waiting Room [writershelpingwriters.net]

Summer Flu

Can You Get the Flu in the Summer? [verywellhealth.com]

Leisure Sickness  [avogel.ca]

Catching a Cold When It’s Warm [newsinhealth.nih.gov]

Heart Condition/Cardiac Arrest

Types of Heart Attacks [www.healthline.com]

Common Heart Conditions [summahealth.org]

What Does a Heart Attack Feel Like? [health.clevelandclinic.org]

How to Describe a Heart Attack in a Story [writingtipsoasis.com]

Pulling a Ferris Bueller

Define Pulling a Ferris Bueller [urbandictionary.com]

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off Summary [gradesaver.com]

10 Things Ferris Bueller Taught Us [dailyedge.ie]

A Note From the Mods [Tumblr Post]

Sick While Traveling

Take Steps to Stay Healthy While Traveling [cdc.gov]

Motion Sickness [sciencefocus.com]

How to Remove Vomit From Car Interior [wikihow.com]

Sick on Vacation Tips [apartmenttherapy.com]

Hospital Bed

How to Write a Hospital Scene [writersdigest.com]

Hospital Bed Components & Safety [robsonforensic.com]

9 Way to Help When Someone is Hospitalized [upstate.edu]

First Aid Kit

Make a First Aid Kit [redcross.org]

Travelers First Aid Kit [hopkinsmedicine.org]

Health Plan and First Aid for College [uh.edu]

Flushed Cheeks

Causes of Facial Flushing [verywellhealth.com]

What Can Cause Flushed Skin?  [medicalnewstoday.com]

Doctor's Note

Obtaining a Dr Note for Work [inhersight.com]

How to Get A Dr. Note for School  [solvhealth.com]

[teal-fiend]

pred acting clueless around observers

they eat up prey, then lounge around on a sofa, stretching out so that the base of their round belly peeks out from under their shirt.

when the observer arrives, the pred ignores them mostly, maybe saying 'hey' but nothing much else.

they notice the observer noticing them, though. the observer, trying to hide their surprise and interest. probably wondering how long the pred has been lying there, digesting, or who it was being digested

the pred rolls over, and their stomach burbles and groans, as the inner contents settled back in.

the observer can't pretend to ignore it any longer, and says, unsuspiciously, "what do you have there?"

"What?" the pred says, aloof.

the observer sneaks over, but brave enough to get closer, something most people wouldn't do.

"it looks like you've had a good meal recently"

the observer poked the stomach, and the pred complained on it's behalf.

the belly was very warm, over-worked by digestion, the observer could tell even with just tapping it with a couple of fingers.

"Yes, I've eaten not long ago. It's taxing, my stomach gets ahead of itself, demanding for prey that is too large or," their gut rumbled thickly, causing the pred to pause, "...rich, and, it takes so long to digest. It's exhausting, it makes me feeble."

The observer listens to the pred complain, sympathetic although they couldn't relate. If anything, they were more likely to be in the prey's position. Under the pred's stretched skin, making the pred groan and bemoan about how tiring it is to digest them.

But despite all that, the observer still wanted the pred to be comfortable, and to have an easy digestion.

They looked down at the fatigued pred and their plush, contented belly.

"It looks like you could use a belly rub - to help with your digestion."

"I suppose so..."

This might have been the pred's plan all along. Maybe getting the prey itself was less important than getting a massage from the observer, who was so intent to get their hands on a prey-filled stomach

[nyqmii]

retail worker is hungry but forgot to bring his wallet. he'll have to wait until the end of his 8 hr shift to eat. it's hard to focus on an empty stomach, how is he gonna make it through the day? he clenches his rumbly tummy and whimpers, all he can think about is that leftover pasta he had made from last night.

let's hope none of his coworkers can hear his obnoxiously loud stomach

[danafeelingsick]

having soft thoughts of a sickie feeling guilty about puking up all the food caretaker made for them with so much love and care:

sickie having to maintain appearances, even as their poor stomach revolts agaisnt the heavy meal sitting inside it

sickie who can't help but grimace at the sight/smell/texture of the food, which makes caretaker think they might've messed it up

sickie clutching/hugging their middle as they try their hardest not to puke, thinking of the smile caretaker had on as they watched them eat, thinking they finally were starting to recover

sickie who has a hand clasped over their mouth, holding it tight to keep the food in no matter what, even to the protests of caretaker who's trying to tell them to just let it out, don't try to hold it

sickie who ends up losing the barely digested food over the blankets, sobbing apologies to a caretaker who's more worried about their well-being than anything else

[mayxo-hxh]

Im about to get controversial.

Out of chrollo, illumi and hisoka, hisoka is canonically the least likely to flirt to get anything he wants, if at all.

A lot of people think he's a natural flirt but I fear I couldn't have disagreed more. He only "flirted" a single time and that was solely to piss off machi, knowing she'd never agree. Hot take? He would've never asked if he knew she'd agree.

Also, bro's the biggest humanphobe in the anime. He keeps his distance from everyone. The only human physical contact he ever made was through fighting people. (If you're a person thats interested in seeing more evidence, I have an entire long thread about it on twitter that I do plan on posting here soon)

so u cannot give me 1 reason for hisoka to flirt with someone at a random bar but chrollo and illumi? i can think of a few.

chrollo, he already canonically flirts to get what he wants. straight up goes on dates gets a suit and shit. he has no reputation among the general public that hes concerned of that isnt the spider. Illumi? He's a manipulator. I HIGHLY doubt he never flirted to get something in his life from people who are too easy to win over. He's someone that wouldn't care what people think of him. He's also anonymous. People have no idea who tf he is anyways. If it affected the zoldyck reputation? Thats a different story.

Hisoka? he would fucking NEVER. Him specifically? HE HAS A REPUTATION. And whats that reputation? That hes an absolute disgusting freak that no one should dare to approach. He kills people. He fights live and makes sure the audience is always disgusted and weirded out by his actions and performances. You look at him and you should immediately look away and pray he hasn't seen you.

So riddle me this. If his entire shtick is making sure everyones afraid of him and avoids him, then why the hell would he get himself a reputation that makes him approachable????

Why would he get himself a reputation that makes you, as a person who only ever heard of him picking people up, want to approach him.

On top of that, I just.. don't see him picking random people up..??? random weaklings that dont even know nen????? he literally treats them like trash that inconveniences his time. You're saying he'd EVER give them the privilege of sleeping with him???

And then you'd say, oh so he'd sleep with strong people! HERES THE THING. Why would he sleep with them..... when he can fight them. Him getting off from fighting comes NOWHERE to actual sex. What people don't understand is that he gets off to killing people and seeing them crumble in front of him when they realize theyre going to die. Torturing people to death. What's... that got to do with like. yknow. actual sex bro 😭😭😭😭😭😭

this turned into a huge rant probably but do you know how genuinely depressing it is seeing a unique character like hisoka that gains lust through FIGHTING and KILLING reduced to. sex addict in fics. Like. be so fucking serious right now. He called himself a FIGHT ADDICT in the manga. Can I see more of him actually spending his time killing and fighting people instead of whatever the hell bros doing with a random npc.

Anyways this is also why I hc him as asexual/demisexual NEXTTTT

[pookiebearhelaena]

the monster's gone, he's on the run

and your daddy's here

(@lawolfe you've been waiting for this one girly😘)

[max-nico]

Sonic has been called an "overprotective big brother" over the years many times. Not his fault that Tails is small, impressionable, and reckless. He's known the kid since he was a toddler, if anyone else had been around that long they would understand too.

Or at least he thought they would, but it seems he was wrong because his own two best friends–Amy and Knuckles–are the ones who call him overprotective the most. This is a huge betrayal on their part, especially when they bring up valid points like Tails' intelligence and skill, because how could he disagree. Sonic has the coolest, most awesome and amazing, little brother ever. 

With that being said, Sonic is pretty sure he has the right to interrogate the little fox this time. He's like 90% sure his panic is warranted when he sees his little brother load and cock a very real and deadly gun. Because that kid is 9. He is 9, and he is putting on his watch and his plane gear to leave, and for some reason he needs a weapon wherever he's going. Sonic thinks he has a right to exercise at least a little big brother privilege here, honestly it would be negligent to not at least question him. 

"Hey bud. Whatcha up to?"

Tails' ear flicks toward him as he packs a few things into the Tornado. "You remember that hard drive that GUN thought they stole from me, but I actually knew they wanted it so I lowered a few of my defense systems so that they could grab it and leave me alone?"

The answer is no, Sonic has no recollection of that happening at all. Though he supposes it's his own fault for only half listening when Tails was talking. He's really gotta break that habit.

"Sure do." Sonic lies.

"Well, I actually have a little bit of data on there that I forgot to back up to another hard drive since I didn't think I needed it, so I'm going to go get it."

"And you need a weapon for that? Why don't you just ask Shadow?"

Tails finally turns to face Sonic, floating down off the Tornado and in front of Sonic. He stands with his hands on his hips, leaning just a little into his personal space. He takes the chance to absentmindedly scratch behind his little brother's ears, making him push his head into his hand.

"I did, actually. He's the one who told me to bring some weapons, he said he wants to help me improve my stealth techniques."

"Huh, and he didn't even bother to text me about it." Sonic huffs. It comes out playfully, but he won't deny being a little peeved that Shadow didn't message him. Tails is a genius and can make his own decisions, sure, but he's also not even in double digits. Sonic is literally his guardian, he feels like he should've been consulted about this. "I find that quite rude."

Tails smacks Sonic with one of his tails. The fur gets trapped in the small quills on his face, which makes his brother giggle.

"Then how do you find that, hm?"

"I find that the person who did it has another thing coming."

Sonic is so gonna fill his pillows with quills and shaving cream again. The fox constantly complains about not being able to get his quills out of any furniture, but he also got his fur stuck on Sonic's face, he figures this is pretty good retribution.

"Sure I do."

This is what Sonic means. Where did his wholesome brother go? Ignoring the fact that he has been a little menace since they first met, this is obviously team Dark's fault. Their devious ways are corrupting his little brother, who has obviously only learned nice things from him, like dad jokes and spindashing.

Tails has been constantly hanging out with team Dark for a few months now. After spending time with Rouge on Amy's last birthday he seemed to acquire a sort of childish fascination with them. Honestly, Sonic didn't really see it as a bad thing at first. They got Tails to spend more time out of his lab, and they always seemed to take care of him so Sonic had no qualms as long as Tails was having fun.

Then the habits came. Habits that Sonic had managed to completely purge a couple years back. Sure, he's not building bombs willy nilly anymore (as far as he knows anyway), but a few weeks ago Tails showed him the Empire nuclear launch codes just because he could.

Just yesterday they were having a conversation about a grocery store in station square. Amy had apparently told him that the cashier was kind of rude, so he asked if she wanted him to "blow up the entire store". She laughed and said no thanks, but when Sonic just shook his head at him Tails had the audacity to say "he'll make sure there's no one in it", as if that was the problem with what he said.

Sonic will not claim to have clean hands. He will not say he's never killed anybody on purpose or on accident, but is it so much to want to spare his brother from the same fate? Sonic still has nightmares over things like that, and even if his little brother is joking, he just can't find it in himself to laugh.

It's obvious Sonic will have to talk to Shadow and Rouge soon, he would talk to Omega as well but the robot honestly just does whatever he wants. Sonic can respect it. He cannot, however, respect Shadow and Rouge teaching his kid brother bad stuff, like how to get away with murder and other things of the like.

"I'll be back before you know it, Sonic, I swear!"

It's obvious Sonic has just missed most of the one sided conversation Tails was just having with him, he zoned out again. Damn it.

"And I'll have my communicator on me so if anything goes wrong, you'll be the first to know! I'll stay safe, Shadow will be with me."

Tails says that as if it's any comfort to Sonic. He may trust Shadow with his life but he does not trust him with children. He's sure Tails will come out physically unscathed, but mentally? This is going to be a trainwreck.

Sonic sighs. He already knows he won't be able to convince him not to go, at least not in the small timeframe he has, so he just pulls the kid in for a hug instead. "Call me as soon as you're able, okay?"

"I will, promise!"

"And if you're not back and not answering in 24 hours, I'm coming to find you myself."

"Yes, Sonic." Tails says, pulling away.

"And I'll give Shadow a piece of my mind if I have to, you know I will."

"I'm leaving now."

"And so will Knuckles and Amy!"

"Goodbye!"

"Remember what I said about calling!"

"I can't hear you anymore!"

Sonic smiles as Tails starts his plane, the kid will be fine, he knows it. After all, he's sure Shadow and Rouge know the consequences if he's not.

woe, the brothers be upon ye I wrote this in like two sittings and its barely been edited, I'll probably put this on ao3 later after I've looked at it again lol. you're welcome to hit me up in my dms or askbox, but if it's a request I would prefer my ask box lol. Remember you have to be nice to me forever and ever and ever if you decide to talk to me btw

[whumpuss]

[thenegoteator]

It should’ve been me, Han Yoojin thinks. He does not need power or fame, but if he could keep his brother in his shadow just a little longer, that would be enough.

hello hi I have tumbled headfirst into the sctir fandom. these unhinged disaster siblings have my ENTIRE heart. more importantly, so does this fic by @loosingmoreletters which you need to drop everything and read IMMEDIATELY

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumpuary Day 15-16 & 25-26

Prompt: “You look awful.” | “I’m fine.”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Depictions of illness; vomiting; allusions to symptoms of stomach virus

A/N: Daryl’s human so humans with stomach bugs experience icky symptoms. There are allusions to those but nothing gross.

You were bouncing on the balls of your feet, your lip securely tucked between your teeth in anticipation. Carol chuckled behind you and patted a hand between your shoulder blades. 

“I think you’re actually vibrating, Y/N.” She laughed a little louder when you beamed at her before it softened into something a bit gentler. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone other than Judith so excited to see Daryl come back. Well, and me but that’s a given.”

“It’s been two weeks. I’ve been going out of my mind!” You made a crazy gesture with your hands and then clasped them together again and continued bouncing. 

“How does he do around all this…energy?” You went still and blinked at her, a great many questions swirling in your gaze. “No, no. It’s not a bad thing! You’re good for him. Great for him. I just wanted to make sure he’s not being a total grump and raining on your parade.”

Pursing your lips, you tilted your head. “No, not really. I mean, at first it was like he didn’t know what to do when I would do a cartwheel through the living room. He just stared a lot. But he smiled!” Daryl always smiled for you. In the beginning, it was only in private. All of it was. He was wary of you. 

You had lived in Alexandria since the beginning. Knowing now what you didn’t know then, he was justified in holding back, keeping secrets. When you had proven to be just the average person trying to survive, it was like a switch had flipped. He’d show up at your house unexpectedly. Sometimes you’d find him just sitting on the porch steps, having a cigarette. Other times, he’d actually knock and ask you to go for a walk. He even taught you how to defend yourself with and without weapons. He wouldn’t teach you to hunt though. Always said you’d scare off the game. 

Things evolved from there. It started small. Daryl wasn’t the type of man who enjoyed public displays of affection. Well, he wasn’t before you came along. He would still blush and duck his head if you kissed him in public. You were always the one to grab his hand but he never pulled away. Hugs were okay but he’d yelp (in a very manly way of course) when you’d grab or swat at his ass. 

It had been nearly two years and you couldn’t imagine life without the grumpy, quiet bowman. 

“I’m glad he found you.” Carol wrapped her arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head when you laid it against her. You were about to say something else when the shout came to open the gates. 

You jumped up and down, jostling the woman beside you but even as she laughed, you paid her no mind. Your eyes followed the man on the motorcycle. He rode through faster than he should have, something you always scolded him for but he’d only scoff at you. 

“You’re back!” You leapt on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, just as his boot touched the ground after dismounting the bike. “I missed you!”

“Ain’t been tha’ long.” He spoke into your shoulder. His arms held you steady but if he had let go, he would have found you securely latched to his front. 

“It’s been two weeks! That’s the equivalent of forever!” You pulled back and pouted at him, your lip jutting out further when he lowered you. “You hurt? Bring back all your parts?”

“Nah, M’good.” He answered tiredly. Your eyes narrowed when you realized how exhausted he actually looked; something off by the way he was even just standing still. 

“I think we should get you to bed and not for the fun stuff. Not yet anyway.” You stepped around him and retrieved his bag and crossbow, smacking his hand when he reached to take them from you. “I got it. Come on.” He was grumbling something about stubborn woman as he walked just beside you. 

You watched him from the corner of your eye, making certain to be discrete. Daryl would never openly show vulnerability, especially outside your home. He rarely let it be seen inside your home. At the very moment though, you weren’t sure if he realized he was doing it. His hand was clutching his stomach over his vest, fingers digging into the leather until his knuckles were white. His face was neutral but the pallor to his skin wasn’t something he could hide. 

You balanced his bag on your shoulder and opened the door for him, smiling cheerfully when he scowled at your special treatment. “Go on upstairs. You want a shower?”

“S’tha’ yer way’a tellin’ me I stink?”

“Yes, sir.” You noticed his hand had left his abdomen, but was flexing at his side. “You want something to eat? There’s some leftover venison stew that I could—”

The archer blanched, any color that was left present drained from his face while his throat visibly worked to swallow convulsively. Oh shit. Before you could even put down your burden, he dashed from your sight and into the downstairs bathroom, the sounds of his retching painful to hear. 

You placed his bag on the floor and the crossbow against the wall, walking quietly to the bathroom door. When you peeked around the doorframe, Daryl was on his knees, arms draped around the toilet seat with his forehead resting on his hands. He was no longer heaving but still spitting into the water below. 

You knew what his reaction would probably be but you couldn’t act like you didn’t care. “You okay?” The archer didn’t look up. He stretched out a leg and kicked the door shut. You had the good sense to not be in the way of the wooden barrier. 

You were expecting wounds and bruises, not stomach ailments. The medical supplies you had set up in the en-suite bathroom would remain there. You hadn’t seen much of him before he was sick and he could still have injuries that needed care. Now, you needed to add some fresh towels, clothes, and a basin of water with a cloth to put by the bed. You had some Tylenol from the infirmary, just in case he needed it for pain, not anticipating he’d probably need it for fever. 

There were a few cans of chicken noodle soup that you could drain the broth from later, but for now, until the nausea passed, you went downstairs for a few bottles of water. You doubted there was any ginger ale in the pantry but if you were able to see Carol or she came for a visit, you could ask. There was no way you were leaving him for it. 

Everything was set up, including the shower. You were hoping you could coax him in just to get him clean and comfortable. With a gentle knock on the door, you placed your forehead against it, wincing at the sounds coming from inside. Seemed like the toilet and sink were receiving his attention. 

Definitely a stomach virus, but you’d have to ask about what he’d eaten the past few days to rule out food poisoning and other gastric ailments. 

“Daryl? Are you okay?”

“Go ‘way.” The reply was gravelly and weak. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” You replied softly, promptly walking away from the door. He was going to be ultra embarrassed after that, so you had to handle things carefully. The last thing you or he needed was for him to try and run because he was ashamed of things he had no control over. 

You set about cleaning up the kitchen, though it barely needed it. You kept everything spotless most of the time. Daryl was always out doing physical jobs while you helped with inventory or delivered meals to the elderly residents. He didn’t need to worry about the state of your home when he was able to be there. 

It was about half an hour before you heard the toilet flush and the tap turn on. It ran for longer than usual. You assumed he was washing his hands and rinsing his mouth. His toothbrush was upstairs but you made a mental note to ask for two more to keep downstairs. 

You were leaning on the kitchen island when he finally emerged. He was drenched with sweat, his face flushed from embarrassment or fever. Maybe both. His belt was still undone but his pants were zipped and buttoned. Poor guy looked like a wreck. 

“Hey.” You called softly, earning his attention. “You look awful. Are you okay?”

He nodded, the movement jerky. “Thank christ fer indoor plumbin’.” He rasped, joining you on the other side of the island. He leaned forward and placed his forehead on the cool surface of the countertop with a sigh. 

“Did you eat anything weird while you were out?” You circled the structure to stand by him and rub his back in slow, soothing circles. 

The bowman rolled his head back and forth against the countertop. “Nah. Jus’ the regular expired canned shit we could find.” It made you sad to think that this was the norm now. Relying on food that was far past the date of recommended consumption. 

“When did you eat last?” You rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles stiff and knotted. 

“Yesterday afternoon. Wanted ta get back. Didn’ go lookin’ fer anythin’ today.”

Still could be food poisoning. You’d have to ask if anyone else was sick. “Let’s get you upstairs. Think you can shower?” Daryl straightened with a grimace before nodding. You met his gaze with a gentle smile, bringing up a hand to sweep the damp hair away from his eyes. “Come on then.” A hand on the small of his back gently urged him forward, his shuffling steps and unsteady gait giving him the appearance of a living walker. 

You trailed behind him up the stairs, braced and ready in case he lost his balance, but the ascent was successful without any tumbling. The archer was shedding clothing before even reaching the bathroom, down to his jeans and socks by the time he was standing in front of the shower. 

“Do you need me to stay?” It was a reluctant question. Daryl hated it when you hovered but he was sick and exhausted so it was an offer you had to give him. 

“Nah. M’fine.” He was unzipping his jeans when you pulled the bathroom door closed behind you. 

The shower began running moments later, so you busied yourself with grabbing your own pajamas, turning down the bed, and pulling a chair over to his side. As an afterthought, you placed the room’s small wastebasket there as well. The shower was still running when you heard the unmistakable sounds of another round of vomiting, your heart clenching at the painful noises. 

“Daryl?” You called loudly enough for him to hear through the door and over the spray of water. 

“M’…m’okay.” A low, strained answer from the other side. 

With nothing else to do, you sat down on the end of the mattress to wait for him. The toilet flushed but the shower continued for several more minutes. There was a brief silence followed by a shuffle of clothing, and the sounds of him brushing his teeth. 

When the door finally opened, he looked clean in his sweats and t-shirt but no less miserable. His hair was still damp, beads of water dripping from the ends. Even as undesirable as the situation was, it was hard not to take note of how normal he looked dressed like that. It was as if you were a couple before the end of the world, spending an evening at home in comfort and without fear. But the reality was that fear was always lingering. Always. 

“Bedtime for you, mister.” 

He couldn’t even manage to scowl at you properly, ending up with a tired frown dripping with resignation. He was slow to lower onto the bed and said nothing when you pulled the blankets over him. 

“Anything need stitched or bandaged?” You asked, brushing his hair away from his face. There was always a warmth that crept into your chest when he didn’t flinch away from your loving touches. 

“Jus’ a few bruises. Nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.” When you fixed him with a skeptical stare, he sighed. “Promise.” Daryl didn’t take that word lightly and never used it carelessly. 

“Okay, try to sleep.” You perched yourself on the chair, noticing he couldn’t be bothered to care. He turned onto his side, facing you with his legs drawn up slightly. His stomach was surely angry and cramping, muscles tired from heaving on top of feeling nauseous. There was no hesitation in your hand resting just below his knee, rubbing the area in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. 

He was asleep within moments. 

Watching him grimace and tense without waking, you let your mind build scenarios and how you would handle them. If Rick came knocking with requests of the archer, you’d kindly tell him to get bent. If Carol came over, you could get her to fetch some things for you that would help keep him comfortable while he recovered. If he continued vomiting and couldn’t keep down the water at the very least, you’d need to leave long enough to grab Denise. 

Daryl woke suddenly, lurching over the side of the bed to retch into the wastebasket you had been smart enough to grab earlier. There was nothing left but acidic bile to bring up but it sounded no less brutal. You could do nothing but keep his hair out of the way and rub his back. There was a moment of consideration. Maybe if you could alert Denise, she would have something for the nausea. 

That train of thought was interrupted by the hunter shakily pushing himself back up only to sag back against his pillow. 

“Sucks.” He mumbled, eyes closed.  “Ain’t been sick since…S’been a long time.”

You were gently rubbing his stomach which he either didn’t notice or it felt nice so he allowed it to continue. 

“It won’t last forever.” You whispered, watching as he dozed off again. 

He was still resting comfortably when the knock came on the front door downstairs. Reluctantly, you rose from the chair, taking just another second to brush Daryl’s hair away from his eyes. He mumbled something, turning his head away, but remained asleep. You wanted to be quick.You just weren’t willing to leave him alone for long. 

“Hey!” Carol greeted with that gentle smile of hers. After all she’d been through, even with her apprehension about settling there in Alexandria, she was able to keep that kindness. Especially when it came to Daryl. 

“Hey.” You said, turning to look anxiously at the stairs. 

“What’s wrong? Where’s Daryl?” When you turned back to her, the smile was gone, replaced with growing concern. 

“He’s asleep. I need a favor. He’s sick. Could you grab a few things for him? Anything he might be able to keep down.” The other woman was already nodding. “Maybe put a bug in Denise’s ear in case she has anything for nausea.”

“Is he alright? Really?” Carol was leaning closer toward the doorway. It was obvious she wanted to go to him. 

“Yeah, he’s okay for now. He hasn’t thrown up in an hour or so but when he first got back…” You trailed off, looking back at the stairs again. “Could you please do all that for me? Then maybe come upstairs and see him? I know he won’t want anyone else seeing him like this. But you and me? We don’t count.” You smiled, knowing it was true. Carol and yourself were the only people Daryl was fully comfortable relaxing around. 

“You got it. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll leave the door unlocked.” You watched her swiftly descend the porch steps before closing the door and nearly sprinting up the stairs. The bowman was still sound asleep when you returned to the bedroom. He still looked pale but there was no fever, no signs of dehydration just yet. 

You made yourself comfortable in the chair, drawing up one knee to rest your chin on it. You’d be his silent sentinel until he was better. 

Whether he liked it or not.