Hurt Comfort Meme

[jading]

Hurt/Comfort - Hurt/comfort
is a fan fiction genre that involves the physical pain or emotional
distress of one character, who is cared for by another character. The
injury, sickness or other kind of hurt allows an exploration of the
characters and their relationship.

- Post with Character Name | Series in the subject.
- Others respond.
- Roll 1-10 at RNG for a scene, play it out and have fun!

1. INJURY. You've been injured. Broken bones or bleeding out or maybe just a tiny little papercut. The choice is yours.
2. SICKNESS. You're sick and laid up in bed, at home or in a hospital. The severity is up to you.
3. FEAR/ANXIETY. Something is happening and you're scared beyond belief.
4. LOSS OF SENSES. Sight, touch, taste, hearing, smell, etc. You've lost some important sense or ability and now you're left to deal with it.
5. DESPAIR. Nothing is good or right anymore and you can't shake the depression. Maybe that friend of yours can help though...
6. BREAKUP. You've been dumped. You need someone to comfort you, possibly by the one who dumped you.
7. MAKE UP. Fight or break up, it's time to makeup.
8. RESCUED. You've just been held captived and/or tortured for however long and finally, someone has come to the rescue.
9. BAD ROMANCE. Fight, cheated on, abused, whatever the case s, someone else can clearly see
you need comfort from someone who isn't your terrible lover tonight.
10. LOSS. You've experience a loss of some kind and need help getting through it.

Nabbed from hoohaw

Comments

[imaginitive]

If you need me to run out for cough suppressant, it isn't a trouble. [He's not going to question why he cares this much. Part of him while use the excuse that he's his Point, but it doesn't matter. Eames isn't about to go delving into his own emotions. Not yet. He knows what he's doing and he's acting on his wants.

There are risks to this, but when aren't there in life?]

[ex_specificities791]

I hate this. [ Stated matter-of-factly. It's as close as Arthur will allow himself to come to whining.

Getting up, taking a moment to steady himself once he's standing, before making his way to his suitcase and pulling out a sweater to pull on, before sitting back down on the bed.

He may have an idea as to his own feelings, but Eames' motivation is a different matter altogether. It may well be possible that Eames is only helping him out because it means Arthur will owe him one, but— Arthur doesn't think that is it. Still: ] You don't need to.

[imaginitive]

[He looks over and nods.]

If that's what you want.

[ex_specificities791]

I want to not be sick.

[imaginitive]

I can't work miracles, love.

[ex_specificities791]

Didn't think so. [ Sighing. ] What did it say, how often am I supposed to take those pills of yours?

[imaginitive]

Every four hours for a three days.

[ex_specificities791]

[ Dragging a hand over his face. ] This isn't gonna go away over night, is it?

[imaginitive]

[He flatly looks at him.] You're lucky I didn't take you to a hospital.

[ex_specificities791]

[ Settling the blankets over his shoulders again. Eames has already seen him like this, after all, and he is getting colder again. ] It's not that bad.

[imaginitive]

You were burning up. You're much better now, but you don't look like a bloody mess.

[ex_specificities791]

You used to be much more flattering. [ That just slipped out; it's a little amused and a lot bemused. ]

[imaginitive]

[That just makes him smile.] Right. And back to your cutting wit. You are feeling better.

[ex_specificities791]

[ It takes Arthur a moment before he can bring himself to look away, an answering smile tugging at his lips. ] I am.

[ Of course, those words only lead to a coughing fit. ]

[imaginitive]

[He watches for a moment.] Getting you cough suppressant isn't going to kill me.

[ex_specificities791]

[ Pressing a hand against his chest as though that will ease the ache that's settled there. ] All right.

[ A beat. He has manners, really. ] Please.

[imaginitive]

[He smirks before getting up and putting on his lovely courderoy suit jacket.] I'll be twenty.

[ex_specificities791]

[ The jacket gets a dark look. It offends Arthur's fashion senses, particularly with the way it hugs Eames' shoulders. ] Take the key card?

[imaginitive]

[He gives Arthur a nod and grabs the card off the table. This felt almost domestic and the thought made his lip curl in amusement.]

I'll be back. [And with that he left. He headed to the nearest pharmacy not two blocks away. Eames picked up a bottle, paid for it, and returned back to the hotel just like he said.]

[ex_specificities791]

[ By the time Eames comes back, Arthur and the bedsheets are curled up on the couch, leaving enough space for Eames to sit if he would like — the man is taking care of him, the least Arthur can do is not steal his place to sit. Arthur has a book in hand, open, but he hasn't turned the page in at least five minutes, simply staring at the words. He feels better, yes, but focussing is not easy and for once, he does not feel like putting in the effort. Perhaps he should sleep again... except the coughing makes that rather difficult and sitting upright helps, at least. ]

[imaginitive]

[He comes in and hands him the bag. The cough syrup and a bottle of seltzer water in it. He moves to take a seat next to him.]

Here.

[ex_specificities791]

Thanks, Eames. [ Taking the syrup and unpacking it, reading through the instructions — or squinting at them, anyways. Whoever thought it a good idea to make them this small when the cough syrup is taken by people who might have a fever and definitely have a headache? ]

[imaginitive]

Two tablespoons, every six hours. It's the night version, so 10% alcohol. [He took off the jacket again and loosened the collar.]

Hungry?

[ex_specificities791]

Ah. [ making a soft non-commital sound under his breath and measuring out the suggested amount, barely suppressing a grimace at the taste. ]

Not really— but I should eat. [ Frowning for a moment, before dropping his head forward to rest against his knees. ] I don't think I've eaten anything since this morning, and that wasn't much.

[imaginitive]

The water was for the taste. [He gestures to the second bottle. He was being thoughtful.]

Ah, good. There's a quaint bistro round the corner. I ordered you a soup and bread. They should be here soon. [Eames could have waited, but he figured Arthur needed the meds sooner. Turns out he plays nurse really well.]