Starry_Screamer Posted May 9, 2017 Author Share Posted May 9, 2017 2 hours ago, MEGARAHAMATO said: Oooh! Denmark..... I wasn't going to request but I was wondering if you would do x readers for the female nations or Nyotalia...? He's such a cutie, isn't he?? I've never written them, but I'd be willing to give it a shot! Who were you thinking of? 2 hours ago, MEGARAHAMATO said: Oooh!! I second this I ♥ F.A.C.E. family sick care taking Me too!!! X3 FACE family caretaking in any form is my jam <3 <3 <3 2 hours ago, sneezefetishist said: I'd love to see and am looking forward to the sequel Awesome, I'll definitely get to work on that then! Thank you guys for the comments and everything!! It really motivates me to read them Link to comment
MEGARAHAMATO Posted May 10, 2017 Share Posted May 10, 2017 20 hours ago, Starry_Screamer said: He's such a cutie, isn't he?? I've never written them, but I'd be willing to give it a shot! Who were you thinking of? I was thinking of Hungary....or Monacco (Did I spell it right?)...and Fem!Romano Link to comment
Starry_Screamer Posted May 10, 2017 Author Share Posted May 10, 2017 1 hour ago, MEGARAHAMATO said: I was thinking of Hungary....or Monacco (Did I spell it right?)...and Fem!Romano I've never written Hungary or Monaco, but I'm always willing to give new stuff a try! And Fem Romano would be so fun omg! Did you have any kind of scenario you wanted in mind for any of them? Here's the follow-up to the first FACE fam fic~! Try saying that three times fast XD Cuties~ Characters: Arthur; Francis; Alfred; Mattie Word Count: 1660 When it comes to having children – even ones who are already grown up – there are certain things that Arthur likes to call ‘occupational hazards’. A lot of fatigue after particularly stressful periods like puberty and rebellion is one. Getting scrapes or bruises in the process of keeping your child safe is another. Catching whatever your child brings home is quite possibly the most frequent. Over the years, Arthur’s caught colds, flu, and all other manner of common childhood maladies from both Alfred and Matthew. While it’s annoying and uncomfortable at times, he knew what he was getting into when he decided he wanted kids. It certainly doesn’t change the fact that he loves his sons. That being said, God, he’d give just about anything to stop feeling like shit right now. Just as Alfred was recovering, Arthur started to feel run-down, achy, and congested. Within a day, it had progressed into chest-rattling coughs, sinus pressure so bad it felt like his head was in a vise, and the bothersome symptom of not being able to go more than five minutes without sneezing at least once. (But usually more than once.) Despite how he’d like to insist that he’s fine, he took his temperature and winced at the thermometer when it told him he was running a 39.4-degree fever. He’s stubborn, but not stubborn enough to try and work with that kind of fever. Besides, it would be irresponsible to go to any meetings like this and risk infecting other countries. Most of his day today has been spent draped over the sofa, trying not to bring up his lungs every time he coughs, fruitlessly blowing his nose, and forcing down liquids even though it hurts to swallow. The worst part of it has been his fever cycling him between being too hot and too cold. When he’s too hot, he’s practically melting, and when he’s too cold, he can’t get warm enough. Sleep would be nice, if only he could ignore the pounding in his head. “Hhhh–UHHSCHHHhooo!” “A tes souhaits(1),” a familiar voice chimes, and when he looks up, he sees Francis coming down the stairs. Rumpled robe, disheveled hair, red face, and absolutely no denying that he’s ill, too. Almost proving the point, he ducks forward into the handkerchief he’s holding – having to grasp at the railing as he does so. “HH’KMmm! Oof…” Arthur doesn’t bother wasting energy on feeling self-conscious. It seems like the two of them are both equally sick, so there’s no way in hell Francis is going to complain about how Arthur looks. “Bless you, yourself. Fever?” “Oui, trente-huit points cinq(2). You?” “You’re better off than I am, at least, let’s leave it at that.” He shuffles himself around, sitting up to make room for the Frenchman. There’s really no strength in him while he’s ill to be unnecessarily rude. “Sit down, you look like hell.” Francis scoffs, rubbing delicately at the side of one nostril before he drops down onto the couch. “You’re one to talk. At least I’m dressed for company!” “… No. No, you’re not, Francis. You’re wearing a robe and shorts so short I’m surprised I can’t see anything.” A grin is shot his way as Francis grabs half of the blanket that’s over Arthur’s lap. “Why are you looking, eh? Vilain garçon!(3)” The Brit’s face flushes immediately, and he huffs as he scoots away. “I wasn’t looking, you tosser! Anyone who’s the slightest bit observant notices when somebody comes downstairs practically in their bloody underwear!” “En tous cas(4).” A dismissive wave of the hand is the last word Francis has on the matter, apparently. “Did Alfred and Mathieu leave for the meeting?” “Yes, they’ve been gone for a few hours.” Arthur rubs a hand over his eyes, hoping it might relieve at least some of the pressure. “They said they’d pick up some more medicine and tissues on the way home.” His hand slides down just in time to see the soft smile on Francis’ face. “Ah. We ‘ave such good boys, don’t we, mon ami(5)? Per’aps we have both made… euh… many mistakes in life. Oui?(6) But our boys… we got at least two things right with them.” Arthur feels any hostility he has toward the other man dissipate into almost nothing. Regardless of anything else, Alfred and Matthew are their children, and he’s so happy to have them. “I… suppose we did. Well, at least for them, thank you.” It looks at first like Francis is going to say something else. Instead, he raises his handkerchief and pitches forward again. “Haah’HKmmm! Hhh’KKmmm! Hhh – KKtschhhmm!” The fit is rapid enough that it doesn’t seem like Francis got enough air, and he stays bent over as he explodes into a series of harsh coughs. “Ah–!” The Englishman leans over to give a few firm, awkward pats to his friend’s back. If Francis feels anything like Arthur does right now, it’s got to be a struggle to catch his breath. “… God bless you. Are you still breathing alright?” A few more wheezes leave Francis before he slumps over, giving several feeble nods. “J-Je vais bied, je vais bied(7),” he rasps, raising a hand. “Just by throat. It’s like I used saddpaper for bouthwash! Aie…(8)” “Nnn… utterly raw, is it?” Arthur rubs his own throat in sympathy, his pain flaring up at the mention. “Mine feels the same way…” After a moment of thought, he carefully pushes himself up – making sure he can support himself on shaking knees, and he can. “I’ll go make us some tea. It should soothe our throats, and maybe break up some of the congestion, as well…” The look on Francis’ face is clearly grateful as he pulls the blanket around his shoulders. It’s one of the rare moments he won’t take the chance to tease Arthur about any concern between the two of them. “Berci(9). That soudds like a good idea. If dothigg else, sobethigg warm to drigk is dever a bad idea for a cold.” “Mhm, that’s what I thought.” Just as he nears the kitchen, he suddenly freezes and roughly brings his arm up. “HuuhUTSCHHHhh! UhhTSHHhhooo! HaaEHSHHHhhuu!” In the wake of his sniffling, he misses the smirk Francis gives him that ruins the moment. “Bless you, yourself, bod abi!” “Yooooo, the heroes are back with medicine! … And food that has some flavor!” Francis practically chokes on laughter when Alfred bursts through the door, and Arthur, predictably, looks less than pleased. The expression turned on his son is less scathing than it might normally be, although the American gets the picture. It’s just lucky for him that his father doesn’t have the energy to really ream into him. “Good evening, Alfred. Did everything go smoothly at the meeting, boys?” Alfred is followed in by Matthew, who’s holding two bags of his own – presumably food for Francis in the small brown one, and the medicine in the other. “It went great!” he answers immediately, sitting down between his fathers. “Everyone said to let you both know they hope you feel better.” “They were happy to see us again, too,” Alfred continues, taking a seat next to Matthew. “Apparently something’s going around, ‘cause Antonio wasn’t there either.” The brown paper bag he was holding gently dropped into Arthur’s lap. “Here! ‘S not fast food, I promise. We went to that little cafe on the corner by the meeting building! I remember last time we were there, you said you liked their turnovers, so I got you some for dinner if you’re hungry.” His glove is off in record time, pressing against his father’s forehead. “Feelin’ any better, Dad?” The Brit feels heat rush to his face, and makes a mental note to not completely assume the worst of his son next time. “A… a little. My throat’s still sore. I suspect that’s not going anywhere for a few days.” His hand grips the bag, and a smile comes over his face. “T… thank you, poppet. This was very sweet of you, and I appreciate it.” “Hey, no problem! That’s what family’s for.” A slightly guilty grin settles on his lips. “I know these things aren’t the healthiest, but… I figured something with a lotta sugar might work as a little pick-me-up, y’know?” Matthew’s bag is deposited on Francis’ lap, accompanied by a bright smile. “Madeleines for you, Père(10)! Heh, pretty much same reason. They’re not really traditional-style, but you liked them when we went to that cafe, right?” “Ohhhh, Mathieu–!” Despite clearly not feeling his best, the Frenchman wraps his arms around Matthew, giving a kiss to his son’s cheek. “Quelle gentillesse de ta part!!(11) Thank you so much, mon petit(12)! Just knowing you thought of me makes me feel better! Je t’aime!(13)” “J-Je t’aime aussi(14), Père!!” Matthew laughs, happily returning the embrace. “It feels like your fever’s gone down…” Alfred chuckles at the two before mirroring the gesture, giving Arthur a hug with a little less vigor. “Hug time!” “Alfred–!!” Although he appreciates the sentiment, Arthur turns his head away from Alfred as fast as he can. “UhhSCHHhhuu! HaATSCHHHhhhooo! Oh, by gooddess, Alfred, let go! I dod’t wadt to get you ill agaid!” “God bless! Come on, Papa doesn’t have a problem hugging Mattie!” His arms stay where they are, his cheek nuzzling contentedly against Arthur’s. Out of nowhere, Francis’ body shudders, and he too jerks his head away from Matthew. “HiIHHkmm! Hhhhh’KMcchhh!” He tries to scramble away from his son, grabbing a tissue from the table and starting to scrub at the Canadian’s face. “Ca y est!!(15) I have a probleb with this dow! Get away, bod petit, you’re dot goigg to get sick because of be!” In the middle of two bouts of crackly coughing, the sound of laughter from the sufferers’ children echoes around the room. It’s silly, but they’re not going anywhere until their parents feel better. That’s what their parents did for them, after all. (1) – To your wishes (French equivalent of “Bless you”) (2) – Yeah, thirty-eight point five (3) – Naughty boy!/Bad boy! (4) – Anyway (5) – my friend (6) – Yes/Yeah? (7) – (J-Je vais bien, je vais bien) I-I’m fine, I’m fine (8) – Ouch… (9) – (Merci) Thanks/Thank you (10) – Father/Dad/etc. (11) – How nice of you!! (12) – my little one (13) – I love you! (14) – I love you too (15) – That’s it! 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MEGARAHAMATO Posted May 11, 2017 Share Posted May 11, 2017 Awww, the follow up for the first FACE fam fic was adorable ♥♥♥ As for the 3 female nations I suggested, I don't really have a scenario planned out for them. ......psst! Wouldn't it be ironic if Hungary was allergic to the flower in her hair Link to comment
Starry_Screamer Posted May 11, 2017 Author Share Posted May 11, 2017 5 hours ago, MEGARAHAMATO said: Awww, the follow up for the first FACE fam fic was adorable ♥♥♥ As for the 3 female nations I suggested, I don't really have a scenario planned out for them. ......psst! Wouldn't it be ironic if Hungary was allergic to the flower in her hair Hehe thank you! It was really fun to write. <3 That's okay! I can think up something no problem. Pfff that would be cute! I've got a plot idea forming for that one, so I'll definitely start on that~ Link to comment
Starry_Screamer Posted May 11, 2017 Author Share Posted May 11, 2017 Okay, so here's my attempt at writing Elizaveta/Hungary for MEGARAHAMATO's first request! I haven't got a good grip on Elizaveta's character yet so forgive me if she seems OOC at any point.. or... through the whole thing lol. It's also kinda short since this is my first time writing Elizaveta, I figured it would be better to do something short for practice! Characters: Elizaveta/Hungary Word Count: 767 Neither of you are really sure who took the fake flower that Elizaveta usually weaves into her hair, but one thing is certain. The replacement you gave her is kind of more trouble than it’s worth. The problem is that the one you found for her is a real flower. Even though it’s beautiful and looks great on her, (to be honest, nothing looks bad on Elizaveta), its presence evidently doesn’t agree with her. Ever since you helped her get it into her hair, she’s been twitching her nose and rubbing at it all day. There have been more than a few sneezes, and she keeps complaining about her eyes watering. She’s not willing to go without it, though – she doesn’t have to wear her uniform today, so she wants to look pretty. This flower is the only one that matches her dress. Because she’s so stubborn about it, you’ve given up trying to get it out of her hair for the most part. You don’t, however, give up on handing her tissues when it seems like she needs one. Most of the day’s been spent inside, too – your attempt to at least make sure she’s only suffering at the hands of one flower since everything outside is in bloom. “IhhKktchh! HihhKSHhu!” When you walk into the room with a tray of tea, she’s sitting there with her face buried in a tissue, looking none too happy. You can’t say you blame her. An allergy to something she really loves can’t be fun. “Ez nevetséges…(1) I wish I weren’t allergic to real flowers. They look so cute on me.” A small chuckle comes from you as you set the tray down and lean to kiss her cheek. “Everything looks so cute on you, édesem(2). You could wear a potato sack and be beautiful. Here… maybe some tea will at least keep you from getting congested.” “Köszönöm(3)… it might be too late for that.” She brings the tissue down from her face, finally, only to give a sharp inhale and duck her face back down into it. “IhhKSHHhuu! Hh’KKshiiu!” It’s followed by a quick blow, although she turns away from you for that. “Ó Istenem!(4) Sorry about that. They keep sneaking up on me.” You grab a spoon and start stirring milk and sugar into her cup. “Egészségedre(5). If you want to stop sneezing, you should probably take the flower out and then take a shower, wash your hair and clothes.” There’s another squeaky blow before she answers, still sniffling. “Noooo… it looks so pretty in my hair and it matches my dress. I can deal with this!” The smile she gives you now is much more real and absent of any anxiety or false reassurance. She knows you worry about her sometimes, but she also knows that you know she can take care of herself. “You’re probably right! The tea should help. Köszönöm, you’re so considerate!” This time when she lowers the tissue, she just scrubs at her nose with her wrist before returning the kiss you gave her a moment ago. “Ah. Thank goodness, it didn’t happen again.” “Good! Now, drink up, okay?” You hold the cup out to her, and you go to start preparing your own cup as soon as she takes it. For a little while, the two of you sit in relative silence. Elizaveta sniffling and making small noises of discomfort breaks the quiet every once in a while, and you reach to pat her hand or leg every time. She always smiles back and mimes blowing a kiss at you. It just proves your point; she’s cute no matter what, doing anything. After she sets her cup down, she reaches to pull another couple of tissues out and blows her nose. “Ugghhh… the tea helped my throat, but it made my nose run… now it’s all… hiihhh…!” The tissues stay where they are, and her head just bobs down rapidly. “HihISHHhh! IhhKSHhhh! IhK’SHhhuu! H’KSshhhu! Hi – IKSHHiiuuu!” Her lips draw in a small gasp of air, a frustrated whine riding on the end of it. “… Ó Istenem… those ones really came out of nowhere…” Your lips press against her forehead as fingers give her arm a gentle squeeze. “Elizaveta, édesem, why don’t you take that flower out and go wash off? For me?” “Nn, nem igazságos(6)…” Despite the muttered complaint and the pout on her face when she moves the tissues, she pushes herself up. “Okay. Not for me, but for you!” And a smile, just to assure you that she’s not terribly upset or angry at you. “Only for you.” (1) – This is ridiculous (2) – sweetheart (3) – Thank you/thanks (4) – Oh, my God! (5) – Bless you (6) – not fair Link to comment
TheMaster Posted May 12, 2017 Share Posted May 12, 2017 These are all really cool. I particularly enjoyed the FACE family ones, and the fact that you have the character's occasionally speak in what would be their native languages. Link to comment
Nervous-Bean Posted May 12, 2017 Share Posted May 12, 2017 Ohhhhhh snap you have no idea how great new hetalia content is around here ???? These are very cute!! Link to comment
Starry_Screamer Posted May 12, 2017 Author Share Posted May 12, 2017 16 hours ago, TheMaster said: These are all really cool. I particularly enjoyed the FACE family ones, and the fact that you have the character's occasionally speak in what would be their native languages. Aw, thank you! Those are some of my favorites to write, too! There's just something about family stuff I love. It makes sense to me to insert native language phrases in my normal fics, so it's something I do with fetish fic too! 13 hours ago, Nervous-Bean said: Ohhhhhh snap you have no idea how great new hetalia content is around here ???? These are very cute!! Haha thank you!! You're so sweet! Alrighty, here we have a request I got on my Tumblr! Feli is sick and since Lovino has a big day tomorrow, all the coughing and sneezing is keeping him from getting sleep, so he snaps at Feli to be quiet. Soooo Feli stays up all night, muffling and stifling and everything, and by morning he's so much worse. And when Lovi sees and hears how bad Feli is, he feels guilty and cancels his meeting to take care of Feli. I apologize if it seems too... serious?? Toward the end here! Lovino has a tendency to jump to the worst-case scenario in my headcanon. Especially when it comes to Feli. XD SALTY LANGUAGE AHEAD~~ Enjoy!! I had a lot of fun writing it~ Characters: Feliciano/Italy; Lovino/Romano Word Count: 1688 On the one hand, Lovino knows his brother can’t help being sick. He knows that Feliciano isn’t making noise just to annoy him. (Face it, he tells himself, Feliciano wouldn’t do that anyway. He’s too nice.) On the other hand… this has been going on for two days now. The next chance that Lovino gets to do a presentation like this and impress his boss isn’t going to come soon, so he’s got to get some rest and be ready. He’s been going back and forth for the past couple of days, working on his project in between doing his best to take care of Feliciano. Exhausted doesn’t begin to describe how he feels, and he needs to sleep, and he’s running on maybe five hours of sleep over the last two days. The whole ‘being-a-big-brother’ experience is nice sometimes since he missed out on it growing up, but it’s also frustrating when it comes to shit like this. “AhhKSHhht! Hh’KSHHee! IhhHISHHtt!” Congested coughs and sniffling follow the quick fit; then the sound of Feliciano blowing his nose rather loudly. Then, of course, comes the sound of the younger Italian whining. “Fratello(1)… cad I take bore bedicide yet…?” Lovino grunts in response, rolling over onto his back. He’s never going to get any shuteye, is he? “Como diavolo dovrei sapere?(2) I told you to write down the time when you took that dose after lunch. It’s not my fault you didn’t listen to me.” More coughing and whining. “Lovi… by dose is all stuffy… I dod’t ddow if I cad sleep…” “Well, then, stay up all night! What the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” He doesn’t fully mean to snap at his brother, but Lovino is bone-tired and has a big day in the morning. If he messes this up, he’s probably going to be doing overtime paperwork shit for the next six months. That means he’s never going to get to spend time with Feliciano. Not to mention the fact that he doesn’t really want to be stuck doing a ton of paperwork and overtime. “If you’re not going to sleep, at least shut up so I can sleep! I know you don’t have anything to do tomorrow, but I have to do shit besides nap all day!” “L-Lovi…” Normally the rude things Lovino says don’t get to Feliciano, because he knows his brother loves him. Lovino just has trouble expressing himself and is insecure about emotions and is afraid of being hurt. Now, though, when he’s sick… all the remarks seem a lot more personal. Feliciano has to bite his lip to keep from crying while tears well up in his eyes. “I’b sorry, fratello… I ddow…” As soon as his nose starts running, he sniffles and drags his sleeve under his nose. “I-I’ll try to be quiet…” “Va bene, grazie!(3)” Unaware of how upset Feliciano is, Lovino turns over on his side so that his back is facing his brother. His sheets shift around a little as he tries to get comfortable. It’s practically impossible – apparently the lack of sleep has made it difficult to settle down into a good position. Finally a small sigh leaves his lips and his muscles go lax. “Buona notte(4). I’ll see you in the morning. Try to rest.” Trying to keep his sniffling quiet isn’t easy, but Feliciano isn’t going to give up. “Buoda dotte, fratello. Ti amo(5).” “Sì, sì, ti amo anch’io(6). Go to bed and try not to sneeze yourself sillier than you already are.” With that, the bedroom light is flicked off, and the older Italian drifts off to sleep. To his credit, Feliciano tries as hard as he can to stay quiet. He’s up almost the entire night, although he lies down as much as he can. It’s just not a very agreeable position when his nose feels completely blocked within about two minutes of lying flat. When he sits up, he’s able to breathe better. “Uh… huh… huhUShhht! Ihhtshhhh!” When he sits up, though, his nose starts leaking and the tickle comes back. He sniffles, wipes, rubs, and sneezes, but after another minute, it starts up again. The half-full box of tissues is empty by the time three A.M. rolls around, and he’s resorted to using just his sleeve. His nose is sore and tickly and every sneeze just seems to increase the congestion. “Hh’shht! Ishhhtt! HihhIKHshh!” The force of doing his best to hold back makes the sound scrape against his throat. It feels like a bunch of needles have been shoved down there and are constantly scratching, and swallowing is almost unbearable. “MMPshhh! Mmmpshht! Hih – ihh – IHHmmppshhhh! Mmmpshhh!” Pressing his face into one of his blankets helps a little, both to muffle the sound and to save his throat. It’s the blanket he always uses when he’s sick or sad, wrapped around himself, because it smells like Ludwig. Even though he feels a little guilty about sneezing and coughing into it, the feeling isn’t bad enough to stop. Under no circumstances does he want to wake Lovino. His big brother works so hard, and Lovino takes such good care of Feliciano when he gets sick or hurt. It wouldn’t be fair to wake him up, especially when he specifically asked Feliciano to be quiet. At least one of them should get some rest. “H-Hi – ihhhh… ISHHmmmphh! Mmmpshhht! AhPSHHHIEE! Mmmnn… dio mio…” His chest starts to feel tight and sore around five A.M., but he’s definitely not going to wake Lovino. Wheezing follows that after a few minutes, and every cough brings the sensation that he can’t catch his breath. At the very least, he can still breathe. So no waking his big brother. If he can still breathe, he’s fine, right? “HihhIPPSHHhh! Isshhht! Hhh’SHhhhtt!” The clock reads six in the morning when Feliciano finally tries to lie down again. While his skin is hot and sweaty, he feels like he’s freezing, so he’s not about to give up his blanket. The tightness in his chest has gone away considerably, and turning onto one side allows him to breathe sort of okay out of one nostril. He’s so tired, it only takes about five minutes for him to fall into an uneasy sleep. For once, it isn’t the sound of his alarm that wakes up Lovino at six-thirty A.M. It’s the sound of his little brother’s obnoxious snoring. As he sits up and tries to shake the grogginess off, part of him is glad that Feliciano was able to fall asleep. Once in a while colds hit hard and it’s difficult to get any rest at all. The other part of him groans in annoyance at how much noise his brother’s sinuses are making. At any rate, it’s probably better than all his hacking and sneezing, so Lovino does his best to ignore it in favor of rubbing his face to wake himself up. “Perche sono ancore stanco…?(7)” he mutters before throwing his covers off. It’s too warm this morning. A yawn parts his lips, and he’s halfway to the bathroom before something hits him. Feliciano snores sometimes. But he never snores that loud. It strikes him as odd enough that he stops mid-step and wheels around to check on his brother. “Feliciano?” He reaches out a hand and immediately starts unwrapping the blankets when he feels how hot Feliciano is to the touch. “Feliciano! Wake up! Che cazzo(8)… why are you all bundled up?! Damn it! Would you fucking answer me?!” There are tears pricking his eyes by this point. He hates that his mind decides to jump to bad scenarios right off the bat. A string of coughs splatters droplets of saliva on his fingers, and he’d pull back in disgust if he weren’t so worried. “Fratello…?” Lovino can’t remember the last time he heard Feliciano’s voice sound so tiny and weak. “Mi dispiace… non mi sento così bene…(9)” More coughs shake his frame as his older brother continues pulling the covers off. “No, no, no… don’t be sorry. Don’t – just don’t, va bene?(10) Tutto andrà bene. Io ti prenderò cura di te.(11)” He snatches a thermometer out of the bedside table drawer and jams a cover on it before slipping it into Feliciano’s mouth. “Keep that under your tongue. I need to take your temperature.” Feliciano lets out a little hum and blinks up at Lovino. His whole face is red, his bangs are plastered to his forehead with sweat, and he sounds like he can’t get a good breath in. He’s not even trying to smile or reassure his brother, and that’s the part that worries Lovino the most. When he takes the thermometer out, the older Italian’s heart drops. 39.7° Celsius. Don’t people die from fevers just a little higher than that? “Va bene, questo è tutto.(12)” His voice and hands are shaking as he grabs his cell phone and a pair of pants. “Stai andando al pronto soccorso, Feli.(13)” “Pronto soccorso…?(14)” The look on Feliciano’s face is devastating. “Non sono così malato…(15)” “Sì, tu sei.(16) Don’t argue with me, Feliciano.” Lovino’s voice leaves no room for debate as he’s trying to pull his trousers on with his phone pressed against the side of his face. Finally, his boss’ voice comes on the other end. “Buongiorno, signore!(17) I-I know I’m supposed to be there in an hour t-to give my presentation, but… b-but I think I have to cancel.” Pause. “Yes, I-I know how important it is! B-But… il mio fratellino(18)… he has a high fever. I-I have to take him to the hospital. I’m so sorry…” After getting his pants on, he nods even though he knows his boss can’t see it. “Grazie.(19) The presentation is ready, and – and I promise, I’ll come in and present it as soon as my brother is better. Thank you again, sir. Addio.(20)” He shoves his phone in his pocket and tears the last of the blankets off his little brother before scooping Feliciano into his arms. At Feliciano’s whimpering, Lovino presses a brief kiss to his brother’s cheek before heading downstairs. “Andiamo, Feli. Tutto andrà bene.(21)” (1) – Brother (2) – How the hell should I know? (3) – Good/Okay, thanks! (4) – Goodnight (5) – I love you (6) – Yeah, yeah, I love you too (7) – Why am I still tired…? (8) – The fuck/What the fuck (9) – I’m sorry… I don’t feel so good… (10) – okay? (11) – Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll take care of you. (12) – Okay, that’s it. (13) – You’re going to the emergency room, Feli. (14) – Emergency room…? (15) – I’m not that sick… (16) – Yes, you are. (17) – Good morning, sir! (18) – my little brother (19) – Thank you. (20) – Goodbye. (21) – Come on, Feli. Everything’s going to be fine. Link to comment
Starry_Screamer Posted May 26, 2017 Author Share Posted May 26, 2017 Hiiii, sorry it's been a while! I didn't wanna post anything until I finished another requests, but uh. Well! Since it's my birthday today, I decided what the hell, I'll post one of the super self-indulgent things I did. This one's been done for a while, and it's something I've always loved the idea of – a poly ship with Sweden and Finland! I dunno why I love the idea, but I do, haha. So here's this!! Berwald's sick but unwilling to admit it, so Tino and the reader cook up a plan (LITERALLY~!) to get him to admit it so they can take care of him. I'll try to get some requests done soon, hopefully the next thing I post will be a request, haha! Enjoy this one though, I hope it'll tide you over! Characters: Berwald/Sweden; Tino/Finland Word Count: 2238 You and Tino take your roles as homemakers and nurturers very seriously most of the time. Sometimes almost comically seriously. The two of you clean, cook, do laundry, and care for the home together. It’s actually a wonderful little family you have going; you, Tino, and Berwald all love each other dearly, and all three of you delight in being parents for Peter. There are a lot of plus factors to the relationship you have. More heat when the three of you cuddle… more hands to hold… more people to fuss over someone when they’re sick. Speaking of which, that’s a good point to segue into the main issue at hand: Berwald currently running a fever so high that you and Tino could cook dinner on his face. Not only that, but trying to hide it from you. There’s no way the two of you are going to let him get away with that. “Tino! Tino, taste this.” You hold a spoon of what you’re cooking up to his lips. “Is it too sweet? Is it hot enough?” A chuckle leaves him before he leans forward and gently slurps from the spoon. “Mmm… namia!!(1) There’s no such thing as too sweet. Keep me away from this stuff,” he grins, “or else I’ll eat it all before he even gets down! Mmm… maybe keep it on the stove for another few minutes? It’s warm, but it should be really hot for him.” You snort and grab a new spoon to stir the pot. “I know, I know. Just don’t want it to burn his mouth, joo(2)?” “Joo, joo, that’s true!” He turns away for a split second, then circles back to hand you a cup. “How’s this taste, (Y/N)? Should I add more milk?” “Tino! You added milk?” “Eh… joo… the recipe called for it. Should I throw it out and make a new cup…?” You roll your eyes, taking a sip anyway. “Ahhh… it’s good as far as milk goes. Nice, strong flavor too. Another couple spoons of sugar and I think it’ll be perfect. Here’s a deal for you, I’ll keep you away from the soup if you keep me away from the coffee.” Turning away, you return to stirring. “And don’t worry about it. Milk just makes people more… you know… it increases congestion.” “Oh…” A few blinks are the response you get before he moves to add some more sugar. “Well, that’s actually not a bad idea. I mean, I don’t want him to suffer, but… if he gets more stuffy and everything, he won’t be able to hide it anymore.” “Exactly, then he’ll have to let us take care of him!” Even though you know you’re not getting any moral points for this, it’s not like Berwald wasn’t already going to drink something with milk in it by himself. He’s stubborn, he’s a Swede, and he’d drink milk no matter what. “Okay, everything’s just about ready. You put all the blankets in the wash, right?” Tino nods eagerly, and reaches to grab the spoon from you. “Tässä, tässä!(3) I can hear him coming down. Let me take this over, and you go pretend like you forgot to start the fire.” “Right, right!” You hurry over, pulling out a couple of logs to toss in the fireplace. Not five seconds later, you can hear your other husband’s heavy frame coming down the stairs, and you turn to greet him. “God kväll, älskling!(4) Did you get much work done?” Berwald isn’t known for being a chatterbox, so it’s no surprise that the only response you get is a stiff, “Ja(5), ‘nough.” His eyes flicker to what you’re doing as he comes off the last step. “N’ f’re…? … ‘S cold t’day…” The apologetic look on your face could win an acting award. “Ja, jag är ledsen!(6) I was helping Tino cook, and since the fire from the stove is warm, I didn’t notice until I stepped away… I’m getting it now.” His head shakes and he steps over to give your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “D’n’t w’rry, käraste(7). ‘S okay.” It’s pretty clear that he’s colder than usual, though, because you can see the way he clenches every muscle to keep himself from shivering. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head to assure you that he’s not angry before heading towards the stove. “Wh’t’s f’r d’nner, raring(8)?” Tino giggles at the kiss he receives, tapping the spoon against the pot. “Nyponsoppa(9). I made some coffee, too… I figured you’d probably be tired after working so much today! Thought you might need a little perking up. Käykö se?(10)” “Mm… ja, s’nds good. Tack(11).” “Why don’t you sit down, kultaseni(12)? You must be tired.” Your smaller husband’s lips peck the tip of Berwald’s nose. “(Y/N) and I will finish up. Shouldn’t be more than a minute or two, right, rakkaani(13)?” Grabbing the book of matches from the top of the fireplace, you turn to offer them both a smile. “Right! Just take a seat and relax, Berwald, älskling. The fire will be going in just a moment, then we can enjoy a nice dinner together.” The Swede nods in appreciation at both of you before pulling out his chair and lowering himself into it. You shift around, putting yourself in perspective to keep an eye on Berwald while still being able to light the logs. The match strikes with ease, the flames taking to the wood just as effortlessly. This is actually a pretty sweet scene. Three lovers preparing for a home-cooked meal, a fire beginning to warm up the room… the one thing making it a bit sour is that Berwald is so unwilling to admit he’s sick. You’ve talked with Tino about it before, and you both agree that it’s not fair he feels he has to hide it like this. You two are his wives! For goodness sake. Aren’t you supposed to tend to a sick husband? The two of you are all too happy to do so if he would only let you. From where you sit, you can see that Berwald is starting to look a little uncomfortable. The tip of his nose is twitching – either a response to how cold it is down here, or to the aroma of the soup and coffee. Either way, he raises his hand to rub a knuckle against the underside of one nostril, positioning his hand and arm in such a way that to anyone else, it doesn’t look as if that’s the purpose. His eyebrows draw up, and you make sure to turn your back as you get up. Doing so makes it easier for Berwald to turn away from Tino without being seen by you. That way, he feels freer to– “H’ggxt! Gxt!” Neither you nor Tino will ever understand why he feels the need to stifle, but at least your plan isn’t taking too long to start up. “Prosit!(14)” you call as you spin back around, offering your larger husband a sweet smile. “Are you okay?” Tino adds, turning away from the pot. The look of over-the-top concern on his face is so perfect, you think it might actually be genuine. Aw. What a sweetheart. “Not catching a cold, are you?” As soon as he hears that, Berwald’s cheeks flush a light pink. “… ’M fine. Tack… ‘s n’thin’ t’ w’rry ‘bout, mina kärlekar(15).” After a moment of just standing there smiling at Berwald, Tino quickly turns around and starts putting the soup in bowls. “Okay, well, here comes some nice hot soup to warm us all up, joo? I hope it’s good!” “I’m sure it’ll be great, kullanmuru(16)!” you call as you head to the table and take your seat. “From what I tasted while we were cooking, anyway. You’re always such a good cook.” That’s when Tino’s face turns a little red. It strikes you as kind of funny, because now you’re sure he isn’t actually acting. He’s such a cutie. “W-Well, your help definitely didn’t hurt, rakkaani!” As he sets down the bowls, cups, and spoons, neither of you miss the look on Berwald’s face now. It’s mellowed from embarrassed into content, his icy eyes darting gratefully between the two of you. “’S nice,” he mumbles, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, and then doing the same to Tino’s. “Seein’ m’ w’ves l’vin’ each oth’r ‘s m’ch ‘s I do.” Ah, geez. Now you don’t have to act flustered either, because that comment makes your face flush. It’s always been a little fear of Berwald’s; that you and Tino would suddenly become hostile or jealous toward each other because Berwald loves you both. “… Well, we do.” You smile and press a kiss to the back of his hand. “We love each other as much as we love you.” “And as much as you love us,” Tino finishes, leaning to happily nuzzle his nose against Berwald’s. You’re sure the gesture is meant as much in earnest as it’s meant as another idea for your plan. But it almost makes you laugh – Tino really can be sneaky when he wants to be! Almost immediately, Berwald’s breath hitches and he brings up a hand to rub at his nose. “Hhh… ehh…” After a moment of wiggling and rubbing, it seems like he’s managed to stave off any sneezing. The look he gives Tino is one of mixed amusement and confusion. “S-S’rry… d’dn’t w’nna sneeze on y’…” Tino lets out a little giggle before sitting down. He gives you a look of frustration, mouthing, ‘Almost!’, and passes it off as a yawn. “That’s okay! I appreciate the thought, hehe, but next time, just sneeze, okay? It’s not a big deal! Now…” His spoon clinks against his bowl playfully. “Syödään!(17)” “Yum!” you exclaim even before you dig in, although you’re quick to start eating when Berwald raises an eyebrow at you. For the first moment, all three of you eat in silence. The only sound is that of your spoons against your bowls, until you hear Berwald sniffling. When you and Tino look over, he’s fished out his handkerchief and is blowing his nose. As soon as he notices you looking at him, his face turns pink again, and he lowers his hand. “… S’rry… soup’s h’t, ‘s m’kin’ m’ nose r’n…” Gosh, if he doesn’t look flustered as all get-out, too. You exchange a look with Tino, both of you trying to hide smiles. Why on Earth is he telling little half-lies instead of just admitting that it’s because he’s sick? Sure, hot soup makes people’s noses run, but… it rarely does that to Berwald. So you and Tino just shrug and continue eating. Everything is quiet again for a minute. Berwald is halfway through his meal – continuing to twitch his nose and sniffle – when his spoon suddenly clatters into the bowl. You look over, (as well as Tino), just in time to see your taller husband pitch to one side, letting out several uncovered, unstifled sneezes. “HhhRRSHHH! HaahKRSSHHHH! HaRRRSSHHhhuuu!” “Prosit!” “Terveydeksi!(18)” You and Tino speak up in unison, the blessings causing heat to rise up in Berwald’s cheeks again. “… Tack…” is all he manages to get out before he’s launched into a violent, wet coughing fit. Both of you are up in an instant, patting at his back to help him through it. It doesn’t take long, and he looks up at you blearily after swallowing thickly. That look in his eyes makes it clear that even if you didn’t already know he was sick, you certainly do now. “Berwald,” you speak up as you run your fingers through his hair. “Is there something you’d like to tell us?” Your poor partner looks absolutely humiliated; he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes or Tino’s. “… Mm… b’n f’ght’n’ a c’ld…” A chuckle from Tino makes his head jerk up toward your smaller husband. “We know,” Tino laughs, moving his hand to Berwald’s shoulder. “We’ve known for a few days now.” And you thought his face couldn’t get any redder. “Y… Y’ did…?” “You’re not as good at hiding as you think you are,” you chime in. Two equally comforting kisses are pressed to his cheeks before you speak again. “We know you probably don’t like being sick because it makes you seem weak, but…” “But that doesn’t mean you are weak!” Tino’s hand squeezes Berwald’s shoulder. “You’re the strongest person we both know, and we love you, and we want to take care of you.” “Exactly. So…” Your hand slips down to rub between his shoulder blades. “… Can we, älskling?” After a moment of thought, as well as looking back and forth between the two of you, Berwald’s eyes glaze over again and he ducks forward into his hands. “HHRRRPshhhh! HRRSSshhhhh!” His face contorts in the wake of obvious sinus pressure, and he leans against Tino – pulling you close with an arm around your waist. “… ‘M s’rry I d’dn’t t’ll y’ s’ner… d’dn’t w’nt m’ w’ves w’rry’n’ ‘bout me…” “That’s our job,” you laugh as you lean against him. “Now, let’s get you upstairs, okay, sweetheart?” “Joo!” Tino pipes up, nuzzling his cheek against Berwald’s. “We’ll get you in a bath and get your fever down!” The two of you melt seamlessly back into simultaneous speech as you tug Berwald up out of his seat. “Come on!” For once, thank goodness, he doesn’t protest. Finnish (1) – yummy!! (2) – yes/yeah (3) – Here, here! (10) – Is that/this okay? (12) – sweetheart (13) – my love/beloved (16) – sweetie (17) – Let’s eat! (18) – Bless you! Swedish (4) – Good evening, sweetheart! (5) – yes/yeah (6) – Yes/Yeah, I’m sorry! (7) – dearest (8) – dear (9) – rose hip soup (a fruit soup usually served as a dessert or snack, presumably a comfort food to some) (11) – Thanks/Thank you (14) – Bless you! (15) – my loves Link to comment
JQLovesSneezes Posted May 27, 2017 Share Posted May 27, 2017 Wow, these are all really great, Starry!! I can't believe I didn't find these sooner!! Your Prussia, Denmark, and Sweden x Finland were my favorites, but they're my babies, so I'm biased. I love how you wrote these stories, and I'm excited to see what you bring to us in the future. Keep up the awesome work, Starry! Link to comment
Nervous-Bean Posted May 28, 2017 Share Posted May 28, 2017 Ooo that romano Italy one ?!! I must ask, if I request something, are there any pairings you won't write or is it anything goes? Link to comment
Starry_Screamer Posted May 28, 2017 Author Share Posted May 28, 2017 On 5/26/2017 at 9:30 PM, JQLovesSneezes said: Wow, these are all really great, Starry!! I can't believe I didn't find these sooner!! Your Prussia, Denmark, and Sweden x Finland were my favorites, but they're my babies, so I'm biased. I love how you wrote these stories, and I'm excited to see what you bring to us in the future. Keep up the awesome work, Starry! Awwww, thank you!!! Pfff well, I know how it is, sometimes the writing boards get flooded and stuff! Pffff, I swear everyone are my babies. Just. Claiming everyone. XD Thank youuuuu!! I hope you continue to like my writing! 1 hour ago, Nervous-Bean said: Ooo that romano Italy one ?!! I must ask, if I request something, are there any pairings you won't write or is it anything goes? OH YEAH I loved writing that one! X3 When I got that request on Tumblr I was like "MMMMMMMM.............! GOTTA" XD Hmmmm... well, for Hetalia, I usually prefer writing reader inserts? But there are a couple pairings I'll write! I tend to stick to GerIta, FrUK, and ItaPan, when I do canon pairings, or I do family/friendship stuff. The few definite "nah, don't write that" ones I have are USUK, Franada, CanUK (UKCan?? Canada and England XD), Spamano (I know everyone loves it but it's just never been my thing ), and Switzerland x Liechenstein. Like, basically anyone whose relationship seems more like siblings or parent and child or they're outright stated to be siblings or parent and child?? I'll write them family wise, but I won't write them romantically. If you want, you can suggest something and if I don't feel comfortable with it or if I'm unsure as to how I feel about it, then I'll just say so! Link to comment
sneezefetishist Posted May 28, 2017 Share Posted May 28, 2017 13 hours ago, Starry_Screamer said: Spamano (I know everyone loves it but it's just never been my thing ) *le gasp* you too? (I like SpaBel more and I see their relationship as a parent-child type...) Link to comment
Starry_Screamer Posted August 24, 2017 Author Share Posted August 24, 2017 Sorry I haven't updated in a while!!! The last time I updated was, like, right before I began working at a new job. It's only part-time as a cashier, but it's my first retail job and given that we've been having people quit or transfer, it's A, an adjustment, and B, giving me more hours lately, which means a lot of the time I'm too beat to do much but laze around after I get home. XD But, um!! This one's been done for a while, soooo... more Feli comin' at ya! This one was so much fun and HHH that probably explains why it's so long! Not that I think I'm gonna hear any complaints, lol! On 5/28/2017 at 2:05 PM, sneezefetishist said: *le gasp* you too? (I like SpaBel more and I see their relationship as a parent-child type...) Yep! I mean, I'll read Spamano if I like the plot or if it involves Lovi sneezing, because I'm thirsty, but I don't really seek it out, haha. Same here! It's the same thing as I see the relationship between England/France and America/Canada, I just see it as parents and children. That's just my opinion though, canon is so up to interpretation that people can pretty much take their relationships any way they want! Not sure if I ship SpaBel or not, but that's probably just because I haven't explored it much. XD Anyways, here's some more Feli with a generous helping of GerIta!! Enjoy and feel free to request~! Characters: Feliciano/Italy; Ludwig/Germany Word Count: 3900 To be honest, Feliciano can’t remember the last time his body had such terrible timing for anything. He knows he tends to be pretty unlucky, but waking up feeling like a truck hit him, on the morning he and Ludwig are leaving for their dream vacation? (By the way, he reminds this annoying cold of his, vacations for countries don’t exactly happen every day.) This has gone way past unlucky. The two of them are supposed to be heading to this wonderful place, all by themselves, without anyone else, for a whole week of leisure and bliss. Him being sick would completely ruin everything! And that’s only if Ludwig doesn’t immediately cancel their flight as soon as he knows that Feliciano is sick. Well, this is the first time they’ve had more than an evening to themselves in months, and a stupid little cold is not going to wreck it. Thanks to how early Ludwig gets up in the morning, even when there’s nothing special going on, the Italian is able to quietly slip down into the kitchen while his lover is in the shower. Although the concoction he usually makes to help him through colds tastes a little weird, it usually helps at least a bit when he’s already been sick for a few days. Taking it earlier should stave it off, right? That’s his logic anyway. It doesn’t take too long to make it, and he’s back upstairs with two glasses of it before Ludwig comes out of the bathroom. His own glass is halfway drained by the time the German steps out. “Oh! Liebe(1), you’re… up already.” He’s clearly surprised to see Feliciano awake, but after slipping a shirt on, he just sits down on the bed and gives the other man a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning. Is everything alright? We don’t have to be at the airport for another few hours.” “Ve, I know!” The redhead shoots Ludwig a smile and returns the kiss, despite the fact that his heart’s not completely in it today. It’s better to keep up the illusion so Ludwig doesn’t get worried or suspect anything. Hopefully his voice doesn’t sound as scratchy as his throat feels. “Look, I made us both something to drink. That’s why I got up so early! I did it while you were in the shower. Vacation surprise!” The look Ludwig is making clearly spells out hesitance. Regardless, he picks it up, and wrinkles his nose when he gets a whiff of it. “Ah… what is it? It smells kind of… furchtbar(2).” “Ehhh, it’s an Italian remedy for allergies. I woke up feeling a little… nnnnn, you know, like – like mine are acting up. And I know this isn’t the time of year for yours, usually, but… I figured, hey, when in Rome, right? It’s not gonna hurt you!” As if to prove his point, Feliciano downs another sip from his own glass. “Ahhhhh. It’s a little rough going down, at first, but then you get used to it!” “Ja(3), but… what’s in it? Smells like citrus cleanser and salad croutons.” At least the lie seems to work. A tiny mistruth to keep him from being found out is okay, right? If Ludwig knew it was a cold remedy, Feliciano could kiss their vacation goodbye. Besides, part of it was right – even though it’s a cold remedy, it’s not going to hurt anybody to drink it if they’re not sick. It just… might taste gross. “You’re on the right track! It’s lemon juice, garlic, and honey. It’s better than it smells, I promise!” Ludwig raises an eyebrow as he stares down the glass, then sighs before tipping it back for a quick swig. “Well, I suppose an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, as they say.” That hesitant look he was sporting before comes back tenfold, mixed with a hint of disgust. “Verdammt!(4) ‘A little rough – better than it smells’, my ass! How can you drink that?!” His expression quickly morphs into a smile and laugh to show that he’s not actually angry. “Ah, wow… you know what, you can have the rest of mine. If that stuff is Italy’s answer to allergies, I think I’ll just take the sneezing and watery eyes.” He leans over and presses a kiss to Feliciano’s forehead before getting up and grabbing his suitcase to finish packing. “I hope it helps you, though. You’re going to be okay for the trip, right?” He’s barely opened his mouth to answer when he has to duck down and pull his shirt up over his lower face. “ISHHhhuu! Hahh’SHHhooo!” A little mucus clings to the inside of his shirt, and he lets out a soft whine. “Euck… sorry about that! But, ub, y-yeah, of course! Dod’t worry about be! I feel great, snnnf, as logg as you dod’t bidd a little sdeezigg!” Ludwig chuckles and starts packing a few last-minute things. “Gesundheit. Of course not, as long as you don’t mind it. Here’s hoping that Italian remedy kicks in soon; I’d hate for you to be miserable on a nice vacation.” “Mmmbb… yeah…” As soon as Feliciano feels confident that he can lower his shirt, he does so, and rubs absently under his nose. “Veeehhhh… I think I’m going to go take a shower… do you mind checking my suitcase once you’re done?? I don’t think I forgot anything, but…” “Ja, no, I get it. Better safe than sorry. It’s no problem.” The blonde smiles and gets to work. “Enjoy your shower, liebe! We’ll leave in a little bit!” A hand is ruffled through Ludwig’s hair before Feliciano hurries into the bathroom, shuts the door, and grabs the toilet paper to blow his runny nose. “ It’s dot that bad, it’s dot that bad,” he mumbles to himself, even though he’s starting to feel a headache pulsing at his skull and sinuses. “I cad haddle this. Veehhh, Ludwig add be are godda have a great tibe, add this cold isd’t godda get id the way!” His voice must be better than he feels, because he actually manages to convince himself of that. As it turns out, Feliciano apparently lied to himself before his shower. Once they’re up in the air, he feels much worse than he did earlier. It’s becoming clear that neither his awful home remedy nor his optimism can keep this determined cold of his from messing with him. The good thing is that Ludwig falls asleep about an hour into the plane ride. The bad thing is that Feliciano could barely hold back tears when the airplane took off, because the congestion he was already feeling felt doubly painful from the pressure change – especially in his ears. He managed to pass it off as watery eyes from his allergies, but now that his boyfriend is sleeping, he’s allowed himself to slump forward, face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees, little groans trickling from his lips. Even though he can still breathe, it’s getting hard to do so through his nose. Breathing through his mouth makes his throat tickle. His ears are blocked up from the congestion, which is a double-whammy of discomfort and vertigo. He feels completely exhausted, and they aren’t even there yet. It’s going to be another five hours before they can even get off the plane and check into their hotel. How is he ever going to survive this week without giving himself up or having a breakdown? “Mi scusi, signore?(5)” The voice he recognizes as that of their flight attendant, and her face is full of sympathy when he looks up. “Ah… a cold, yes?” Heat rises in his cheeks; somehow he manages to nod anyway. “Sì(6)… b-but this, this is supposed to be a robadtic week-logg vacatiod, so… I-I dod’t wadt hib to ddow…” Even if he hadn’t tried to keep his voice quiet, it hurts to talk above a certain volume anyway. Her smile doesn’t fade as she hands him a pack of chewing gum. “E ‘menta.(7) Chewing it sometimes helps the – the ears. Clears up un po(8). You are needing tissues?” “Do, do… grazie(9). This is dice of you.” He quickly scrubs his nose against his wrist before going to unwrap a stick of gum. She flies on planes for a career, right? So she must know what she’s talking about. “I appreciate it! Could you, ub… get be a cup of coffee? Veehhh, deed a little help stayigg awake…” “Certo!(10) I be right back with that.” Another flash of a smile, and she’s hurried off to get that for him. Despite actually being grateful, Feliciano feels drained by keeping up his usual peppy demeanor. Almost as soon as she’s out of sight, he ducks his face down into the crook of his arm. “HihhISHH! Hh’KKshhh! HKKSsshhuu! AhhKKshhht! Aaa’AKKssshhoo! Nnghhh… Dio mio…(11)” The German stirs in the seat next to Feliciano, and shifts to lean his head against the redhead’s arm. “Gesundheit…” he mumbles with a yawn. “Are you sure you’re alright, liebe?” “Y-Yep, right as raid! By dose is just kidd of tickly! Dod’t worry, okay?” The tip of his nose twitches almost as if on cue, and he quickly leans to press a couple of his typical kisses to his love’s forehead. “Go back to sleep… we’ve still got five hours before we ladd. I’b godda take a dap too, va bene?(12)” Ludwig’s eyes don’t even open as he readjusts his head. “Mmf, gut(13). But blow your nose first. It’ll make your ears pop; my little trick to flying with allergies.” “Oh, yeah… grazie…” God, he could just fall asleep right now himself. His mind just keeps trying to stay focused on how great it’s going to be to just flop into a nice, soft hotel bed and drift off. The only problem with that is he hopes he can actually get up and doesn’t spend the entire week sleeping. … He also wishes he’d taken up that nice stewardess on her offer to bring him tissues. Looks like he’s going to have to hope she brings a napkin with his coffee. “H-HaaAKKShhhhoo!” The sneeze is a lot wetter than Feliciano would have liked as he stumbles off the plane. He even has to grip at Ludwig’s arm to keep his balance thanks to being unbelievably dizzy. If he were a betting man, he’d bet that riding in the plane just made everything about ten times worse. His head is stuffy and hazy, and he’s starting to wheeze a little in addition to his throat being even more sore than it was when he woke up this morning. It’s also freezing here right now, which is making him shiver. He’s started coughing more; not only does it feel like it’s tearing his throat apart, each one rattles against his ribs and makes his chest feel tight. Does he have a fever…? He felt terrible when he woke up, but the thermometer read normal when he took his temperature. Not to mention, it seems like he can’t go more than a minute without sneezing or sniffling. Simply put, poor Feliciano is a mess by the time they arrive in what’s supposed to be paradise. “Gesundheit!” Ludwig is quick to keep his lover on his feet, eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Feliciano? Are you alright?” The Italian nods earnestly, coughing a few times as he tries to straighten himself up. “Veh, sorry… it’s cold out here… sometimes I sneeze when it’s cold… and m-my throat’s dry, just tickles a little…” Sharp sinus pressure pounds against his forehead and cheeks as if to remind him that he’s lying through his teeth. “I-I’m still tired, too…” “Well, it’s pretty early in the morning here. It’s, what…” A quick glance at his watch before he rubs his eyes. “Half past two A.M. Nothing’s open except bars anyway, so we can sleep for another few hours once we settle in. Let’s find our luggage and catch a taxi to the hotel, ja?” “Y-Yeah… sounds like a good idea. Veehhhhh, I’m so c-cold… aaahhh…” Feliciano’s nose twitches, and he snaps forward in an attempt to bury his nose against his sleeve. “HaahhKKshhhh! Hhh’ishhHOOOO! IhssshHHOOO! Bleggghhhhh…” Yet again they’re a lot messier than he expected, spraying a mist onto the floor in front of him. And, of course, his embarrassment wouldn’t be complete without a few thin strands of mucus now stretching from his nostrils to his coat sleeve. “Ewww… disgustoso… dod posso credere a questo…(14) Luddy, do you have ady tissues…?” The German chuckles and digs into his carry-on as they head toward the luggage carousel. “Gesundheit! Sounds like your home remedy didn’t work very well, liebe. You should have taken some actual medication.” After a moment a couple of tissues are handed over, along with a kiss to the cheek. Well, Feliciano can’t exactly deny that. Cold medicine might have been a good idea… except that there was barely enough left for a swallow in the one bottle they had at home. That was actually part of the reason he’d tried that yucky remedy. It doesn’t seem to be doing any good, though. “Grazie. Sorry about this, abore(15).” After he’s managed to clean himself up and blow his nose for what feels like the millionth time, he drags his feet to join Ludwig near the luggage. “Ugh. Find ours yet? I can’t wait to get to the hotel and get all snuggly with you under the blankets!” “Ja, me either. It’ll be nice to get a little extra rest before we start doing sightseeing and all.” Both of their suitcases are easily picked up by Ludwig, and he smiles at his boyfriend. “Alright, I’ve got our bags! Ready to go hail a taxi?” “Mhm! Maybe they’ll stop faster if you show your leg,” Feliciano teases with a gentle elbow to Ludwig’s ribs. The coughing starts immediately after he tries to laugh, and he’s fully doubled over, hands pressed against his knees, apparently trying to hack up his lungs, by the time they get out to the sidewalk. When he straightens up, his face is red and definitely feels hot. “Mi dispiace!(16) Ah, wow, ouch. I-It’s this cold air… stings my throat and chest… boo…” Ludwig sets their bags down to give the Italian a sympathetic pat on the back. “Right, it does that to me sometimes, too. Just catch your breath and I’ll get us a ride, okay?” A nod is what he gets as a reply before Feliciano tries to blow his nose again. He’s so tired… how is this fair? He slept a full night, plus about an hour-long nap on the plane. Maybe getting right into bed and going to sleep will help. Thank goodness it’s early here. Something else is alarming, though. Every breath gives him a twinge of pain in his chest, and it’s getting harder to get in a complete breath. One side of his nose is completely plugged up, yet still dripping almost constantly. It hurts to breathe through his nose, his head is killing him, his throat feels like he swallowed a box of nails… it doesn’t feel like there’s any way he’s going to survive this week without letting Ludwig know he’s sick. On top of all his actual symptoms, the need for comfort is getting more overwhelming by the minute. All he wants to do is curl up against his lover’s chest, cry, sleep, and be kissed and hugged. Now that they’re actually here… maybe he should tell Ludwig…? Before he can think about it any more, Ludwig puts an arm around him and gently tugs him toward the taxi that’s just pulled up for them. “Kommen!(17) The hotel isn’t too far.” For whatever reason, the sudden movement makes his nose tickle again. “Heehhh… ahh!” Unable to turn the other way, Feliciano presses his face against the blonde’s shoulder in an attempt to not just spray germs everywhere. “HhhKKpshhh! Ah’PPkshhhh! HhhPpppshhoooo!‘Ppptschhiuuu!” He stays there even as Ludwig ushers him into the cab. “S-Sorry…” he mumbles to the driver. “È allergie…(18)” Why does he even think he can keep up this lie? He feels like crap. “Amore,” this time speaking to Ludwig, “can you buckle me in? Ve, all this sneezing is just taking everything out of me!” “Ja, ja, no problem, liebling(19)! I know how that is.” A kiss ghosts over Feliciano’s head as Ludwig reaches over to grab the seatbelt. He’s done fast, although his hand lingers against the redhead’s waist for a few seconds before he moves to buckle himself in. “Not too tight?” “Mm-mm, it’s perfect! Thank you!” As soon as he notices that Ludwig is buckled and has given the driver the hotel address, Feliciano leans his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Amore, if I fall asleep, will you wake me up when we get to the hotel? Per favore?(20)” That smile of Ludwig’s, at least, is one thing that makes Feliciano feel better. “If I’m awake,” he laughs, gripping Feliciano’s hand. At this point, Feliciano doesn’t really care. He could literally sleep in this taxi and be comfortable. … Still. He’s going to be dreaming about that hotel bed the entire time. Honestly, it’s not the settling into the room that’s the problem. It’s the waking up after they’ve already been asleep for a few hours. Ludwig’s alarm pierces against Feliciano’s clogged ears, making the Italian whine softly. “Sta ‘zitto…(21)” he mumbles, tightening his arms around Ludwig’s waist. He is in no way, shape, or form ready to get up. If it’s possible, he feels even worse than he did when they arrived. Aches have settled into his joints, he can barely keep his eyes open, he has to instantly muffle a few coughs against Ludwig’s chest, and he can feel his nose starting to run like a faucet. “Cad you shut that off, abore? I’b still tired…” “Feliciano, you know we have to get up now.” A few well-placed kisses don’t do anything to stir the smaller man, despite Ludwig’s persistence. “Come on, liebe. We need breakfast, then we have that schedule we made up together…” Several more whines make their way up from Feliciano’s throat, and cause another fit of coughing. “Do. I’b sleepigg. Go without be if you wadda.” The sigh that Ludwig gives barely rustles the redhead’s bangs. “Liebe. I’m not going without you.” “Well, I’b dot goigg.” The congestion in his voice combined with the bad attitude is enough to clue Ludwig in that something isn’t right. Even though Feliciano has his moments of grumpiness, he’s never quite this stubborn. Well – almost never. “Feliciano, you sound stuffed up. Your allergies are still bothering you?” There isn’t an answer for a moment, then Feliciano looks up with tears in his eyes. He’s reached his limit already, and he’s done pretending. More than anything he just wants to be comforted and be allowed to stay in bed. The thought of getting up with how miserable he feels right now is worse than the thought of ruining the trip. “Abore…” he sniffles, and tears start rolling down his face half a second later. “I-I lied to youuuuuu… I’b sorry… I deed a hug…!” “Ah–” Ludwig is a little surprised, and can’t imagine what Feliciano could have lied to him about, but strong arms encircle the Italian anyway. “Liebe, calm down, it’s alright… what – what did you lie about? I-I’m sure it’s not worth crying over…” “I lieeeeed,” Feliciano wails, a hiccup breaking the second word. “It’s dot by allergies. I’b sick, abore, I’b really sick! It’s just a cold, b-but it’s a bad ode… I’b achy add by dose is all stuffy add tickly add my chest hurts add I keep coughigg add I think I h-have a… hehhh…! HehhPPPSCHHhhooo!” It comes on too suddenly for him to do much about, and he pitches forward against his lover’s chest again. “Aaa’KKschhoooo! HiKHHchhhhuu! I thigk I have a feehhhh – EHHKKppschhooooo! HaaAKKSCHOOoooo! ‘KkschHHUUUU! T-Thigk I have… h-have a… f.. fe-heh-hehhh! HhhhkkkkSCHHOOOO!” Rather than let his boyfriend suffer through trying to finish his sentence – when Ludwig already pretty much gets it – Ludwig leans down and kisses Feliciano’s forehead. A frown forms when he feels how hot the other man is. “Ja, liebe, I’d say you do. You’re on fire; no wonder you feel so terrible. Gesundheit, by the way. Just relax… of course we can stay in bed.” “I-I’b sorry…” More tears roll down his cheeks as he burrows against Ludwig’s chest. “P-P-Please dod’t be too bad at be… I was sick whed I woke up, add that rebedy I dradk was for colds, add I just… I didd’t wadda tell you b-because I didd’t wadt you to cadcel the trip…” “Shh, shhh, liebe. You don’t need to worry.” Ludwig adjusts himself just enough so that he can tenderly rub Feliciano’s back. “I’m not upset. Do you want me to be honest? – I probably would have done the same thing. This was a special trip for us, and you didn’t want to reschedule, right? Oh, liebling, I couldn’t be angry with you for wanting it to be perfect. You’re sweet for trying to keep our plans.” Still, Ludwig has to admit mentally, that Feliciano is the same lovable idiot that he’s always been, and that unfortunately, trying to hide this was the wrong thing to do. But Ludwig doesn’t have the heart to berate him for it, especially when poor Feliciano already feels guilty and is so sick. So instead he leans down to kiss the redhead’s nose. “Listen, liebe. This trip is important to both of us, but your health is more important to me. Next time something like this happens… do you promise you’ll tell me instead of trying to hide it? I’d rather reschedule and take care of you so that you don’t have to feel awful while we’re supposed to be having a good time together. I can’t be happy if I know you’re not feeling well, ja? Just like you’re always worried about me when I’m sick.” The tears are still coming; they’ve slowed down a little though, and it looks like Feliciano is trying to blink them away. “O… Okay… i-if it happeds agaid, I’ll tell you… I’b sorry…” “No, no, don’t be sorry, okay? I don’t want you to be sorry. You can’t help being sick, and I understand why you did what you did.” The covers are off soon enough, and Ludwig carefully sits Feliciano up with him. “Come on, liebe. Let’s take a shower together, I’ll get you some medicine to help your fever, and then we’ll stay in bed together.” A few sniffles leave the Italian, and he keeps leaning against his boyfriend. “Abore… you really dod’t bidd takigg care of be? What if I’b this sick for the whole week…?” “Heh.” Ludwig’s mouth turns up slightly, and he presses another kiss to the tip of Feliciano’s nose. “Then I’ll take care of you for the whole week. This is our vacation, and as long as we’re away from work, it’ll be wonderful.” “… But we’re id paradise… everythigg outside is so dice… I dod’t wadt us to biss it because of be…” “Ah, what are you talking about, liebe?” This time it’s the tip of his own nose nuzzling against Feliciano’s. “Being with you, whether you’re sick or not, is better than paradise any day.” Translations German (1) – love (in the context of “my love”) (2) – awful (3) – yes/yeah (4) – Damn it! (13) – fine/good/okay (17) – Come on! (19) – darling Italian (5) – Excuse me, sir? (6) – yes/yeah (7) – It’s mint. (8) – a little (9) – thank you (10) – Of course! (11) – My God/Oh my God (12) – okay? (14) – disgusting… I can’t believe this… (15) – (amore) love (in the context of “my love”) (16) – I’m sorry! (18) – It’s allergies (20) – please? (21) – Shut up… Link to comment
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