#h sickfic

[track-five]

con tutto il cuore

“Here.” Louis fished around in the jacket he slung over the back of his chair to offer a pack of tissues. “Cold’s got you all sniffly.”

“My what?”

Harry was taken aback; he’d still been doing rather well, had he not? He had to admit he wasn’t flawlessly hiding his cold voice—he didn’t have much practice navigating consonants and avoiding congestion-revealing words in Italian—but it couldn’t have been too bad. Was that why Louis had been watching him so closely?

“The weather, love? Not exactly a scorcher, is it?”

“Oh, yeah. Right. Thanks, Lou.”

—

harry doesn't want to worry louis. louis doesn't want to worry harry. guess what happens next…

Words: 23069, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Sick Character, Sick Harry Styles, Sick Louis Tomlinson, Married Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Caretaking, Pet Names, 2024, in memory of valentine's day, (it's not dead i just missed it)

[into-fiction]

attempted to write sickfic gelphie. ended up sick myself. trying to decide if that's a sign lmao

anyway here's a snippet:

It felt wrong to see Galinda so subdued, a slight tremor to her limbs as she walked. Her arms were wrapped around herself as she shivered, still mumbling about it being too cold despite the rather balmy weather. Elphaba shouldn’t feel this worried--everyone got sick, after all--but something in her chest twisted painfully at each harsh cough the blonde let out.

Galinda tripped suddenly, stumbling over thin air with a gasp. Elphaba barely got her arms out in time to catch her, steadying the poor girl even as her heart quickened with concern. Galinda’s face was flushed, her eyes hazy, and while normally Elphaba would think she looked rather cute all pink and rosy, this time she just looked ill.

[maladyinpink]

🔊 RAINY DAY SOIRÉE ♥︎♠︎- Haz/bin Ho/tel Wav - ♡-Day Special

Projects will always be strictly AI FREE.

Hi All!...HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! I'm nervous as hell but excited to share my first wav, this Established Husker/Dust Special, with you guys! ART PAGE/MAKING OF

RAINY DAY SOIRÉE - An/gel Du/st comes home from the studio in a hellstorm to find poor Hu/sk, snuggled up with Fat Nuggets and coming down with a cold in his muzzle. The spider affectionately takes care of his bartender beau, but not without catching it himself...Lil vignettes of Husker/dust's shared sick day and soft caretaking.

CW: Long depiction of shared illness, breathy vocal build-ups, loud deep cold sneezing, contagion, higher pitched cold sneezing fits, snotty/honked nose blowing, dry coughing, snzart visuals, blessing, kissing, emotional comfort, spoilers for the Great Gatsby and lots of fluff.

Script, if you guys want to read along, is below...Enjoy!

~ Love, Pink

♥︎♠︎ - Rainy Day Soirée - Script.

(Scene 1 - ANGEL DUST enters the front door of the Hotel in one of the Pride Ring's thundering hellstorms under his Pink umbrella. It's early evening and the lobby is suspiciously empty.)

ANGEL: *Shudders* It's wetter than dick out there!...Shit…Hello? Anybody home?

(Hanging up his coat, ANGEL heads upstairs and unlocks the door to the room he shares with...)

ANGEL: Husk…Honey?...You in here?-

(He's greeted by Fat Nuggets! The hell-hog scampers off the bed and across the floor to see his Daddy at the door)

ANGEL: Hey! My Sweet Boy!...Lookat'chu Bastards, you an' Papa havin' a snuggle, without me…Traitors.

(Yawning deeply, HUSK is still waking up, grumbling to himself about being woken up by a pig and stretching just like an Old man should. ANGEL coos to Fat Nuggets.)

ANGEL: Uh-Oh…Did we wake Papa?...Yeah, we woke Papa…(then to HUSK) Hi, Baby.

HUSK: (Just noticing his partner, tilts his head) Hm- Hey Legs…Damn, y'home early?

ANGEL: Yeah, just pick up shots today (Not really, by pick up shots, he means his scene partner picked him up and pinned him against the wall, he doesn't want HUSK to worry though.)

HUSK: (always concerned when it comes to the studio, but doesn't want to press ANGEL) Oh…um…Y'okay?

ANGEL: (Can't lie, sadly, but tries to reassure) Just uh…the usual...B-But I'm okay, m'fine. (Starts to laugh and ramble)...Actually, it was kinda funny…Long story short, the last scene- Val wants to get the climax again…and again…AND again. What a set of pipes on the poor motherfucker, screamin' to high heaven!...But, uh- Val got called into a meetin' with Vox, thank god…Shoot got cut short an'...Well, most workin' wanted to head home before the storm got bad…

(He trails off...Usually HUSK would respond somehow...ANGEL notices HUSK scrunching up his muzzle and squeezing the bridge of his nose with two fingers, as if he's in pain. He tenderly approaches.)

ANGEL: S-shit…Are you okay?...You ain't lookin' so hot.

(HUSK waves ANGEL off)

HUSK: M'fine…S'just a headache…

ANGEL: (know's he's been given bullshit) N-No No, there's somethin' else…Whaddya not tellin' me…Whaddya hung over?-

HUSK: HUH'ETSH'SHOO!

(ANGEL startles at the intense sneeze and Nuggets squeals, running under the bed. HUSK sniffles and wiggles and clicks his muzzle.)

ANGEL: Jesus!...Honey?! What the fuck was that?!

HUSK: (out of breath, and a little flustered.) Whew, Sorry…'Scuse me…Didn't mean to scare ya.

ANGEL: Next time warn a gal…It's just, heh-…Y'never do that…Come to think of it, I don't think I've heard ya so much as sniffle before?

HUSK: W-whaddya talkin' 'bout…Everyone…(Trails off) S-s-s…..sn-...Sneezes…

ANGEL: (scoffs) Yeah?...Not like that…

HUSK: HEH'ISHH'HOooo!

ANGEL: (starts laughing and mimics Husk's low growly sneeze) Achoooo!

HUSK: Oho! Y'think that's funny?...Laugh it up, Smartass…L-laugh…Hhhh- Goddamni-EH'RTSH'SHOO!...Motherfucker.

ANGEL: (still laughing, but sympathetic) It's…a little funny….Bless you!..H-honey, are you okay?

HUSK: Figures…Now I'm gettin' a cold, now that the seasons pickin' up.

ANGEL: Aww, my poor baby...That's why y'closed up shop so early, huh?

HUSK: Charlie said I was lookin' a lil…hhh… hhh...Peaky…Shit wasn't my choice.

(HUSK lets out a raspy sounding cough and leans back to monstrously sneeze again.)

HUSK: AH'RKK'HOOO!

ANGEL: Ah, Salute! Here…Blow the Thompson on the end of your face hon. (He offers a tissue box from the nightstand)

HUSK: …Thank you baby…(into tissue) AH'ITSH'IUUU…Ugh, Christ…

ANGEL: (unable to keep from laughing, lovingly mocks again with similar inflection)...B-B-Bless you!

HUSK: Very funny Ange…Real fuckin' hilarious…Alright, C'mere y'little shit!

(HUSK starts to tickle ANGEL's arms. The couple both start laughing.)

ANGEL: No!...No…I'm sorry!…H-Honey that tickles!...

HUSK: (growls playfully) I gotcha!

(Both laugh)

ANGEL: Husk!...Husk, Uncle!

HUSK: (listens, satisfied) Hm…That's whatcha get sweetheart.

ANGEL: (fondly) You're a sadist…M'sorry y'sick honey… (leans down and plants a kiss on the top of the cat's head, then notices a book in his paw) …Hey, whatcha readin'?

HUSK: …Gatsby (The Great Gatsby by F. Scott. Fitzgerald)

ANGEL: Ooh, t-that one…Uh…(suddenly a little embarassed, nervously laughs)...Y'know, s'funny…I ain't never read it?

HUSK: Sweetheart, you've never read The Great Gatsby?

ANGEL: I know, I know…S'crime against literature or somethin'...Y-you tell me, if y'think I'da had time between all the heists n' highs for a few chapters

HUSK: Y'got time now, don'tcha? (Sniffles) Why don't we read it together?

ANGEL: (hopeful) Really?

HUSK: Yeah!...I mean…I've read it a hudred times, but….I'd love to see it through your eyes.

ANGEL: Alright, babycakes…But uh, blow y'muzzle first, I can hear ya, gettin' all stuffy.

(HUSK honks a hefty blow into a tissue. Key word being honk.)

ANGEL: Alright, Mother Goose! D'ya wanna start the story or should I?

HUSK: I ain't got the energy to put up with this shit, dickhead…

ANGEL: Alright, Jackass! I'll take care of it, just listen to the Soothing sounds of my voice...

(He clears his throat and starts the book.

♥︎♠︎

(Scene 2 - The next time we see the pair…It's the next morning. ANGEL is in bed and is woken by a loud nose blow and growly bellowed sneezes coming from the bathroom. ANGEL stretches and cranes his neck to look at the bathroom door.

ANGEL: (called out) Bless you!

(The bathroom door opens and a pathetic looking bartender enters, looking exausted.)

HUSK: M'sorry, did I wake you?

ANGEL: Oh baby, nonsense!...You can't help that. You're sick….(clears his throat, still waking, hesitates to ask)...Uh, how's the head?

(HUSK just deeply coughs and raises his eyebrow at the wording. Anyway, ANGEL already knows the answer.)

ANGEL: Y'know what- …don't answer that, uh…I'm gonna go downstairs an' make us some tea.

HUSK: (childlike, pleading eyes)...With bourbon?

ANGEL: (Agreeing) With. Bourbon.

(ANGEL fiddles with the kettle in the kitchen, filling it up with water, putting it on the stove, turning on the burner…He feels something creeping up.)

ANGEL: Heht'ktsh'iew!...Damn…Niffty needs to dust 'round here.

(He hears the door creak open and feels something ELSE creeping up. Needless to say, it's not HUSK.)

ANGEL: Oh, honey?...It's okay, I got it under control you can just go back to bed.

ALASTOR: …Are you quite sure?

(ANGEL startles and rolls his eyes once he sees ALASTOR, but politely replies and resumes watching the kettle.)

ANGEL: Yeah...G'mornin' to you too, Al.

ALASTOR: My my! Someone's broadening their palate!...It's rather funny, usually you'd be schmoozing a mimosa out of our esteemed bartender…But here you are! Making…what smells to be a morning cuppa of chammomile- Or a double. How domestic…What's the occasion?

(ANGEL keeps his reply short, cold and brisk. He's never liked how AL treats his boyfriend and knows AL probably already is well aware, but wants the satisfaction.)

ANGEL: Well our esteemed bartender is playin' hooky today, he's got a real bad cold…(then realizes he can use this to his advantage) Y'don't wanna risk gettin' it Al, y'should probably keep away…like far far away.

ALASTOR: (Sees right through) Come now Angel, you can rest assured that I have no desire to hang around such pestilence. But I also trust that you'll inform Husker of his responsibilities and how he'll be making up for lost time…(He presses the laugh track on his staff)...I must say, I never took you as the caretaking type.

ANGEL: (Ignores the bite, sighs fondly) Well, someone's gotta take care of the big lug…(then bites) Lord know's you won't…Eet'Tschuu!

ALASTOR: (knowingly) Well! Seems as though pot just met kettle, and with that, I'll be on my merry way…(darkly) Seems as though disgusting affections are in the air…among other things.

(In an instant, AL leaves and the kettle begins to screech. ANGEL growls to himself in Italian.)

ANGEL: Stronzo di Fragole!…Hhh…Aat'tshew!

(Back upstairs in ANGEL's room, ANGEL sets the tray with two mugs and another box of tissues down on the bed and sits down.)

ANGEL: (tenderly) Here ya go, Babycakes. Careful, it's hot.

HUSK: (coughs sleepily)...Thank you, Sweetheart.

ANGEL: D'aww, you are welcome!...So uh, where did we leave off?

HUSK: (coughs) Page 41, the big party.

ANGEL: Okay…'I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house'-…'Scuse me…Sorry…Heh…Heh…Ih!…Ihh'eck'iew!...Heh'ish'uu!

HUSK: (chuckling) Uh-oh…Bless you!...Tissue?

ANGEL: Yeah I'b…I'm fine, Honey…Thanks…(tries to start reading) 'I belie- (sputters and coughs)...

HUSK: (gently) Are you okay?

ANGEL: (insistant)…I'm okay! 'I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house…I believe I was-' (takes a deep breath, he is feeling awful and…is about to sneeze again)...Shit-

HUSK: (worried) Angel?

ANGEL: Eh…Eh- Sorry, I'm…I'm godda sneeze!...IT'Tshuu!...Its'Shhh-Oh fuck me sideways!

HUSK: Bless you…Are y'sure you're okay?

ANGEL: I'm fide?….heh…I'm fide.

HUSK: (smirks) Uh-huh, okay…5…4…3…2-

ANGEL: ahh'eeehhhehh'heh!-...ISH'UU!...aghih hhhdihh…ICK'HIUU!

HUSK: Bless you, Sweetheart.

ANGEL: (long sniffle, finally admits)...Baby?...I think I'm catching ya sniffles.

HUSK: (sarcastically) Really, y'don't say?…

ANGEL: Hht'tsh'iuu!

HUSK: (chuckles fondly)...Bless you…Y'know, this isn't how I imagined we'd spend our first day off together.

ANGEL: (coughs) Me neither…(blows his nose) Thought we'd have a glamorous date…Night out on the town…Er- somethin'...

HUSK: Well, we can still do that…With Daisy, Nick an' Gatsby…What's more glamourous than a grand soiree?

(ANGEL blows his nose again, a loud honk)

ANGEL: (sarcastically, glumly) Oh yeah, Honey…Real Glamourous.

(HUSK tries to think of a way to cheer up Angel and gets an idea.)

HUSK: Hold that thought…

ANGEL: Husk?…Whatcha doin'?

(HUSK gets up and starts to mess around with ANGEL's record player. Looking through the collection of vinyls, he finds one that they'd both enjoy. Glenn Miller's 'Chatanooga Choo Choo' starts playing and HUSK starts to sway and kick his feet a little, then does a little Charleston step.)

ANGEL: What are you doin'...Are you…dancin'?

HUSK: Eh…How's that for Glamour?…'Scuse me, sir?

ANGEL: (laughs) Who me?

HUSK: Couldn't help but notice…Y'seem a bit…sniffly-

ANGEL: (still laughing, loving this bit) No shit, it's your fault!

HUSK: -But otherwise…Absolutely beautiful. I'm a bit sniffly myself…(feigns surprise) We have so much in common!

ANGEL: (laughs) Y'so cheesy...

HUSK: I would love nothing more than to dance with you…Whaddya say?

(ANGEL gets up and takes HUSK's arm, joining the bit as they begin to sway gently to the music)

ANGEL: Well sir, I'd love to…But between you an' me?...Keep this on the downlow, Y'don't wanna let my grump of a boyfriend know that I'm dancing with such a gentleman.

HUSK: Well, I dunno this fella…But if he's doin' anything right, I think he'd just be happy to see you happy.

(The two dance and sway in their pajamas for a while, wrapped in eachother's arms)

HUSK: One…Two…-....Hhhh

(ANGEL notices HUSK's twitching and hitching and offers to help.)

ANGEL: Honey?...Y'okay? Y'need a tissue?...A tissue?

HUSK: AH'ICKHH'HIOOoo!

ANGEL: Yeah, that's what I thought…Bless you Ol' Man.

HUSK: Uhhh….Th- Thank-....Tha-...uhh'ITSH'hooo

ANGEL: Salute, Mio Caro…Here.

(HUSK takes the offered tissue)

HUSK: (stuffily) Thank you baby…(he coughs amd hitches as another big painful sneeze is coming)...HEHRK'HOOOOOOO!

ANGEL: (clicks his tongue, sympathetic) Bless you!...I think that's our cue to get back in bed baby.

♥︎♠︎

(Scene 3 - Hours of reading later. The couple has reached the big twist of the heightening drama of the book. Daisy Buchanan was the one driving the car that hit Myrtle Wilson. Jay Gatsby, who's in love with Daisy, will take the blame. ANGEL's heart and weakened immune system cannot take this.)

ANGEL: (floored, heartbroken) Husk…No…No, it was Daisy?!

HUSK: (knew this was coming) Daisy was drivin' baby...

ANGEL: No!...She did it?...N-no!...Fuck no! (Throws the book) Goddamnit! (A coughing jag starts)

HUSK: Easy!...Easy, Jesus Christ…Breathe, baby, breathe…Are you okay?

ANGEL: (carries on) An' he's just gon' take the fall for her sorry ass…Oh my god! (Way too into the story.)

HUSK: (laughs a little at his partner's passion) I know…I know-...Shit Angel are you cryin'?

ANGEL: (He is. Emotional, sniffling)...S'just so fucked up.

HUSK: Easy now…I know…But that's the beauty of it…ain't it?

ANGEL: (crying, looks up, confused) B-beauty?...Of someone bein' a selfish bitch an' ruinin' lives?

HUSK: Nah, Ange, The beauty of the story…is in it's honesty…Shows us the darker sides of love…An' how far an fucked folks'll get protectin' it.

ANGEL: (quiet) Husk?…Husk.

HUSK: What's wrong lovebug?

ANGEL: (sadly)…Would you do that for me?...Would ya..t-take the fall?

HUSK: (nonchalantly) Hm, probably.

ANGEL: Even if it meant…everything?

HUSK: Lookatcha!...Y'gettin' all existential on me!

ANGEL: M'serious!

HUSK: (looks ANGEL in the eyes, with utter conviction) If it meant, keepin' you safe, keepin' y'by my side…Then yes…

(HUSK feels ANGEL's breathing start to hitch as he holds him)

HUSK: Alright baby…Quit cryin'...(Notices he's pulling away and fanning his face and grabbing a tissue)...Oh…O-oh, are you okay?

ANGEL: (breathlessly) No!...N-No, I'm gonna sneeze!...Itsh'uu!...Eck'hiiuu, Ehhhishhh'shuu!...Heh'rkk'kiew! (Groans) Oh go-...Irrkk'hew! (Gasp) Heh'Ihhk'hew…Eh…Ehyiiishhhiew!...

HUSK: Bless you, Bless you- Bless you!...Holy shit, Ange! …Fuckin' Shit! Aww baby…Shhh, Breathe baby.

ANGEL: ….Hhh….Aacksh'IEW!...(groans)

HUSK: (chuckles) Bless you!...Y'always sneeze like that?

ANGEL: (sniffles) Like what?...(realizes) Oh, I'm sorry! (Coughs) Not all of us start a damn natural disaster every time the pollen count goes up.

(HUSK belly laughs, ANGEL's jab was...pretty fair enough. HUSK's laugh trails off into little coughs and grows a bit raspy.)

HUSK: (lovingly firm) Alright, blow your nose.

(ANGEL blows thickly and groans)

HUSK: There y'go…Feel better?

ANGEL: (tired from his emotional burst and his sneezing fit, he deadpans) What do you think?

HUSK: (not really bothered by his partner's moodiness, but calls it out anyway) Damn, you're startin' to get a lil bitchy.

(ANGEL is too sleepy to argue with this, so he lays down and pulls the blanket up, snuggling into HUSK's side.)

ANGEL: (quiet)…Gonna take a nap.

HUSK: (coughs) That's a brilliant idea, Sweetheart…

(Nuggets comes out from under the bed and paws to be let up. HUSK pats the bed.)

HUSK: Well, c'mon!...Get on up, here.

♥︎♠︎

(Scene 4 - Another few hours later…a knock at the door wakes the couple)

ANGEL: (grumpily, sleepily, stuffily)...Hm, Who the fuck is that?... If anyone tries to enter this room with me looking like absolute shit…I will not hesitate to shoot them.

HUSK: (yawns, sleepily and raspily) S'okay, Ange, just stay in bed…I'll get it.

(HUSK coughs a jag into his arm as he answers the door. ANGEL lets our a rough Aagh'ish'hew!, and Nuggets greets Princess Charlie Morningstar behind the door, who's carrying a large thermos and still dressed in her pajamas.)

HUSK: Sorry…Hi, Princess.

CHARLIE: Holy shit…You guys sound awful (coughs roughly a little herself...revealing the bug is clearly going around)

ANGEL: Hell, you ain't sounding much better, Toots.

Charlie: (In-denial, laughs) No!...I'm fine- I'm fine, Angel…Nothing to worry about! Vaggie is downstairs with something nasty…So I'm gonna go take care of her, BUT I brought you guys some chicken soup, I hope you enjoy it!

HUSK: (smiles sincerely and takes the thermos) Much obliged…Thank you…(then looks doubtful) Are you sure you're okay?

CHARLIE: (giggles again, still denying) No! I'm fine! I'm fine guys, I- Hh! HEP'PTSH'SHIEEW!

(CHARLIE inherited her Dad's tendency to occasionally become a...flamethrower when sneezing. Tends to get worse with a cold. Her demon form is out. ANGEL, HUSK and Nuggets stare blankly, a bit scared.)

ANGEL:…Bless you.

HUSK:…Bless you.

HUSK: (quietly to ANGEL) I didn't jus' hallucinate, right?...Fire came out her nose…

ANGEL: (quietly back) Dunno, y'talkin' to a former crackhead, if anyone's hallucinatin' it should be me…

CHARLIE: Eh…Heh…Ih…IPTSH'SHIEEW!

ANGEL: (Gently, firmly, big brother energy) Charlie…Dollface?... Y'takin' care a' everybody…But don't forget to take care a' y'self. (as Charlie coughs, ANGEL melts and invites her in for a hug)...C'mere.

CHARLIE: (Emotional)...Oh, Angel!

ANGEL: (waving her off, still a bit nervous) Yeah, yeah… Just do me a favor? Try not to set me on fire?

(HUSK joins the hug, wrapping his wings around the three of them.)

HUSK: C'mere, kid…If you tell anybody about this…I will gut you like a fish. (No real bite)

CHARLIE: (beat.) Thank you guys…Um…Vaggie and I are gonna watch some movies in the lobby, if you guys wanna join us, you're free to!...And if you need anything, give us a holler- Well actually, don't do that- Save your voices…Okay, bye!

(Door closes)

HUSK: Could be fun…It'll help distract from your…existential dread.

ANGEL: (coughs) Hey, fuck off!...Anyway, I have a better distraction…

HUSK: What?...(realizes and stiffens) No!...No. Are- Are you really feelin' up to that right now?

ANGEL: (pouts) C'mon Whiskers, don'tcha want me to…feel better?...(muffles a stuffy sneeze behind his hands) Ktsch'yew!- Oh my god…

HUSK: (smirks) Need a tissue?

ANGEL: (sniffles) I need…YOU, Baby! Besides, didn'tcha know that the Pentagram's leadin' scientists and' medical professionals say 'Sex is good for a cold!'

HUSK: (contemplates, then smiles slyly and inches closer) Well…Then I guess we gotta do what we gotta do…For science.

ANGEL: (smiles back, sniffling) That's right, we're just doin' this for a good cause…In the name of 'Science'.

(They melt into an embrace in a slow passionate kiss.)

ANGEL: ...I love you

HUSK: ...I love you too

(ANGEL's nose gets brushed and he pulls away to harshly sneeze, and looks up apologetically)

ANGEL: ...Aack'shew!...Ugh sorry.

HUSK: (tenderly) Bless you, Sweetheart.

♥︎♠︎ - è finito

The end, hope you enjoyed!

[secretobsessionstuff]

The Early Days 💜

In the early days of their relationship, Riley tried his hardest not to burp around Madix. Really, he avoided any bodily functions for the first three months of their dating. It wasn’t a big deal—just a slight aversion to showing vulnerability. Definitely not something he needed to bring up in therapy. 

So, imagine his embarrassment when his belly started to gurgle nauseously on their fifth or sixth outing that happened to be a double date with Madix’s roommate. Dakota was very friendly and loud. His girlfriend, Blair, was more relaxed. They wanted to do something more social than a movie, so Madix suggested a boardgame café just off campus. The combination of new people, a colourful environment, and an upset tummy made him dizzy.   

It was early in the evening. The four of them talked about splitting a plate of nachos as long as they kept the cards and game pieces clean. Riley agreed to everything they said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t eat anything. His stomach still felt full from lunch, and the idea of adding greasy cheese to the mix made him shiver. 

“What’s your major, Riley?” Blair asked after taking her turn to play a card. She had a soft smile that made Riley wish he could engage better in the conversation. 

“Um…psychology.” 

“That’s exciting. I almost took psych but changed my mind because…” 

A hot layer of sweat coated Riley’s body when he felt a gurgle move through his intestines. He shifted in his seat, trying to dull the squelching sounds. He caught bits and pieces of Blair’s story, but his attention was entirely stolen by the writhing in his belly. 

This was bad. The nausea and lower stomach cramps battled for dominance. He was most worried about the bubbling sensation in his bowels. Sweat gathered under his armpits and his neck. Pretty soon he would have to find the bathroom and pray that nobody else needed to go. 

Blair finished speaking but Riley apparently forgot to say anything in reply. There was a long, drawn-out pause. He startled when he felt Madix’s hand softly touch his leg from under the table. 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Riley said lamely, pushing his chair back to get out from under the table. “Sorry, I’m just gonna find the washroom.” 

For the next half-hour, Riley came and went from the table. Sometimes he made up excuses about getting a drink, yet never coming back with a cup. Sometimes he left in the middle of a game without saying a word. Most of the time, he hid himself in the single-person washroom, thankful that no one else could come in. 

His belly couldn’t make up its mind about being empty or not. Whenever he thought that there could be no more water left in his cells, he was once again proven wrong by the urgent rumbling in his guts. At least the stomach cramps were never enough to make him vomit, despite the nausea that clung to him like humid air. 

• • •

“Madix, I don’t think your date understands the concept of ‘taking turns’,” Dakota remarked as he rearranged his hand of cards for the fifth time. “He does know that the turns will eventually come back to him, right?” 

“Be patient, baby,” Blair answered for Madix. “He’s probably just nervous. Eat more nachos while we wait.” 

Madix sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying to see down the hallway that led to the bathroom. He was beginning to think that he chose an overly-stimulant place for their date. Riley had confessed to him that meeting new people was difficult for him, and here there was a whole other level to the socializing. No wonder his date kept taking breaks. Even Madix found the sounds of other people playing games distracting. The lights were too bright and the rules to every new game were complicated.  

“I should have picked a quieter place for him to meet you guys,” Madix said sadly. “I really want him to like you both.” 

Dakota nodded. “It’ll get easier. I’ll try to shut up more.”

“If he even wants to do this again,” Madix mused. 

Finally, Riley returned to the table. He ambled unsteadily down the hall, keeping his arms crossed over his body. Madix’s face lit up with a big smile as he pushed Riley’s chair out for him. That smile slowly fizzled away when Riley remained standing. 

Riley ran a shaky hand through his hair and spoke with a faint voice. “Madix, can I talk to you alone for a sec, please?” 

The boy was on his feet before Riley could finish the sentence. The two of them stood alone in the corner of the room. Madix lightly touched his arm, waiting for Riley to speak, dreading what he would say. 

“I think I’m gonna go home now.”

Madix tried to keep his expression neutral, as much as he wanted to pout and beg with Riley to stay. “…Okay, if that’s what you want. I’m sorry if this place is a bit much. It’s very busy, isn’t it?” He wanted to hug Riley and take his saddened look away. “And I’m sorry for touching your leg like that earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Oh gosh, no. It’s not you,” Riley said pleadingly. Fuck, this is not what he wanted. He couldn’t let Madix think the date made him uncomfortable. But the only other option would be to admit how he felt.

“My friends really like you, I promise,” Madix rambled on. “Dakota is just an ADHD mess who never knows when to be quiet. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it. And Blair said she wants to be your best friend.” 

“Madix, it’s not you or your friends or this place.” Riley grabbed his arms to keep him from saying anything else. It was nice to lean on someone. Suddenly the fatigue, nausea, and dehydration slammed into him all at once. He swayed forward. “To be honest, I’m not feeling so hot.” 

“What?” Madix became aware of the weight he was supporting. He watched Riley’s eyelids droop, and his shoulders relax as the truth came out. Now that he knew what to look for, it was easy to see the signs in Riley’s baggy eyes, ashen skin, and sweaty palms. It explained his absence for most of the date. 

Riley let out a heavy exhale. Madix’s face softened as he began to understand. He might as well try a little exposure therapy and tell Madix the rest. “Something in my stomach isn’t sitting so well.”

“Did you throw up?” A realization dawned in Madix’s eyes. “Shit, you have that phobia thing, don’t you? What can I do? Maybe you should sit down.” 

“N-no, I’m okay for now. The fear is mainly towards other people. Like the sounds and stuff.” Riley shuffled his feet awkwardly on the floor, feeling his neck grow warm. “I haven’t thrown up. It hasn’t exactly hit my stomach yet, just um…other areas.” 

“Oh?��� Madix cocked his head to the side, waiting for his brain to catch up. “Oh, right. Jeez, I’m sorry. That’s—that’s not fun.” 

Riley shook his head. Nothing about this was fun…okay except maybe Madix’s undivided attention, his strong grip on his arms, and the gentle way he spoke. Still, he didn’t want Madix to be around when the next wave hit. He didn’t want to be here at all. “So, I need to go home.” 

“Of course, yeah. I’ll order a ride.” He looked back at their table. “I’ll make up some excuse for why you have to leave. Can I wait with you outside?” 

“Sure.” 

The curb was cold on their butts, but it was better than standing. Their knees knocked together. Madix wrapped an arm around his date, trying to keep him warm. Occasionally, Riley moaned and leaned his face into Madix’s shoulder. 

“I got you. Everything good still?” 

The gurgling was back, this time causing Riley’s stomach to roil. His actual stomach. The organ ached beneath his hand. He couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than before. Nausea climbed higher up his throat, filling his mouth with saliva that he spat on the concrete. 

“I think I need to be sick,” Riley said, wiping his mouth. He opened his legs further to lean his head down into.

“Do you want me to leave?” An excellent question that Riley didn’t know the answer to. He liked the warmth pressed into his side. He liked the feeling of Madix’s hand rubbing his back. Without a reply, Madix continued by saying, “I don’t mind staying. You won’t gross me out.” 

A thick belch erupted from Riley’s mouth. He let his mouth hang open for saliva to trickle between his legs. “Ugh, please stay. I feel awful.” 

“I know, love, I know.” Madix rubbed big circles on the boy’s back. He vaguely wondered if Riley was going to overthink the term of endearment. All he knew was that his mom called everyone that, and it seemed to bring them comfort. It certainly brought Madix comfort when he’d been upset or sick.

Riley gagged over the puddle of saliva. The empty heaves rolled his shoulders forward with a harsh retch. He breathed heavily, hoping the vertigo would lessen before he actually started to vomit. His vision was obscured with black shadows at the edges. Madix remained sturdy, allowing Riley to anchor himself to him. 

A few hiccups and burps later, Riley brought up a watery wave of sick. Each successive belch became thicker until the full contents of his stomach were splattered on the ground. He felt disgusting. The view at his feet was sickening. But there is no point in describing it because none of it deterred Madix from staying by Riley’s side. 

After a lull in the vomiting, Madix squeezed his shoulder. “Do you feel better?” 

Riley sniffled. “A little. Thanks for keeping me company. I’ve never allowed a date to see me like this.” 

Madix placed his palm on his chest. “Well, I’m honoured.”

[jubilantmedusa]

Untitled Zukka Hurt/Comfort Ficlet #1 (because practicing drawing means I need to write little mini fics I guess...)

“You’re sick.” Sokka’s voice was as calm as the surface of water on a still night. Not a hint of accusation or contempt. No softness, no sting. Only observation. Reflection.

Zuko took a breath, deep to sooth his limbs that were threatening to shake. “I’m fine.”

Sokka frowned, and Zuko felt a knot form instantly in his stomach. His shivered, vision swimming as he saw the flash of another frown, superimposed. A different frown. Harsh. Sharp.

Sokka’s movements were calm. Fluid. Gentle as he raised his hand to Zuko’s forehead and pressed with just the right amount of pressure. “You have a fever.” Zuko felt his heartbeat pick up as Sokka’s lip began to curl, but as his expression settled Zuko realized that Sokka wasn’t angry, just concerned.

Zuko breathed deeply, pinning his arms to his sides before the other boy could notice that he was shaking now. Only, he must not have been fast enough because Sokka dropped his hand from Zuko’s forehead to grab Zuko’s trembling fingers. 

“Your hands are freezing.” Sokka hand tightened around Zuko’s as he pulled it upwards, pressing it against his mouth. Zuko couldn’t stop his hands from shaking even harder as Sokka’s breath warmed his skin.

—

“I can do that.” Zuko reached to grab his sleeping bag. “I’m fine.” Sokka lifted it over his head like they were kids playing keep away. Zuko huffed, crossing his arms, but let Sokka keep it.

“You’re not fine.” Sokka spread of the blanket. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

“Ugg.” Sokka paused. He looked up, holding  Zuko’s gaze until Zuko finally drawled, two days? maybe three.”

“Three days?!” Zuko felt his pulse quickening again, his shoulders bracing. “Why didn’t you say anything!” Even though Sokka’s voice voice was high he didn’t sound angry. In fact… Sokka’s eyebrows were scrunched, lips pressed thin. “You were training Aang this morning. Zuko, you shouldn’t be bending like that if you’re sick “ Sokka was worried.

“I’m fine.” How many times had Zuko said that now? “It’s just a fever. It’ll go away.”

“I mean, sure it will, if you rest. Can you, uh…” He gestured towards the sleeping bag, laid out and waiting.

“Oh.” It felt awkward to lower himself down when his legs felt so much like jelly, Zuko was sure it wasn’t graceful. But Sokka didn’t say anything, just stood there, eyebrow raised. Waiting. Zuko realized, then, that he was supposed to lay all the way down. So he did, somehow feeling boneless now that he wasn’t holding himself up. 

He blinked as Sokka settled a blanket over to his shoulders. It took Zuko and absurd number of seconds to realize that it was a blue blanket, one of Sokka’s own. Woven. Thick. Soft.

“Comfortable?” Sokka asked. When Zuko met his eyes he smiled.

It was nice, seeing Sokka smile. Zuko wanted to smile back, but he… there was a quivering in his stomach. Not sickness, just… waiting. “I’m fine,” Zukp said. When Sokka raised an eyebrow, he added, “I… feel fine.”

“I doubt that,” Sokka said.

“I do,” Zuko insisted. Yes, his body felt suddenly heavy. And his skin buzzed strange sensitivity that made event he gentlest touch feel like a scratch. But he was lying on his side, on something soft, and he was warm. “I… thank you.”

Sokka shrugged. “I didn’t do much,” he said. “Do you need anything else?”

Zuko thought for a moment. “Water?” He croaked.

“Coming right up, bud.”

Zuko let his eyes close for a moment, just listening to the sound of Sokka’s footsteps as he went back to the packs, the rustling of fabric as he was digging through something. Then there was a feeling, something hard brushing his fingers. Zuko opened his eyes to see a small, green glass. “A Ba Sing Se souvenir cup?”

“It was on sale,” Sokka said, chuckling. “Drink it. It’s medicine.”

“For what?” Zuko asked.

“The fever?” Sokka reminded him. “Do they… umm… not treat fevers in the Fire Nation or something?”

“Of course they do.” Zuko propped himself up just enough to tip the bitter liquid into his mouth before settling down again.

More sounds of shuffling as Sokka lowered himself, and then Zuko felt weight on his back as Sokka pressed into him, a hand settling itself onto his arm. Sokka’s touch was firm, but quiet. Soft. Sweet. “But not yours?” Sokka sounded sad.

Zuko swallowed. He remembered that feeling, tossing and turning as his skin crawled and his stomach churned. Waking up with a sweat drenched face but father still expected Zuko to do his katas. Run through his katas, go to school, sit up straight. There was punishment for slouching, even if he only slouched because he was shivering so hard he couldn’t mind his posture. “We were being trained to rule, Azula and I. Countries don’t stop because you have a cold.”

Sokka didn’t say anything, just started rubbing his arm. 

“You can rest now,” Sokka said after a while. “I can take care of you.”

Take care of him? Zuko tried to remember the last time someone had taken care of him. His Uncle had tried, of course, but Zuko had always pushed him away. He couldn’t let himself be seen that way - weak, sick. So he ignored the quiver in his Uncle’s voice when Iroh spoke to him from the other side of a metal door. And before that… before that his mother would, when father would let her. When Zuko was so sick that she’d block his bed with her body to keep father away, even if it cost her. Then sit with him and fuss his hair back with slender fingers.

“I’ll take good care of you,” Sokka said.

Zuko took a deep breath in. Not a sigh, just a breath, one to fill him up. He could feel his heart starting to race again, but... nicer this time, with Sokka so warm and solid against his back. He let the breath out. Slow. Controlled. Eyes still closed, he whispered, “Okay.”

[adrift-in-thyme]

@skyward-floored I know you’ve been sick all week so I wrote you a little something to help cheer you up. It’s short and probably not wonderfully edited but I hope you get some joy from it anyway :)

——————————

“Up and at ‘em Captain!” Legend calls as he stomps down the hall. “The day’s wasting away!”

The sun is already high in the sky. The other heroes are already dressed and packed and well into eating their breakfast. Yet, the captain is still snoozing away, snug as a bug beneath his blankets.

Must be nice being able to sleep through all that ruckus, Legend thinks, grumpily.

Though, now that he ponders it, it is rather unlike Warriors to slumber on like this. Usually, he is one of the first to awaken. By the time anyone else rises, he is already washed and dressed and looking entirely too well-kept for someone who catapulted out of bed before even the sun dared peek over the horizon.

A small shred of worry worms its way past Legend’s careful defenses. But he pushes it aside as he steps into the doorway.

“Hey, pretty boy! Did you hear me?”

By all appearances, the bed is occupied solely by blankets. And save for a few sniffles, their occupant remains steadfastly silent. Frowning, Legend steps closer.

“Warriors? You alive in there?”

“Mmph,” groan the blankets.

Legend grasps the nearest edge and flings them off. A very miserable-looking Warriors blinks up at him.

“Vet?”

Legend winces. His voice is painfully hoarse. Speaking must be agonizing.

His eyes are glossy too, he sees now, and his cheeks unnaturally flushed. A layer of sweat coats his forehead and drags down his curls. When he pushes himself upward, the movement is accompanied by a violent shudder that nearly lands him back on the bed.

The captain presses his fingertips to the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, is it time to get up? I-I didn’t realize…”

He trails off, blinking into the rays of sunlight that waft through the blinds. Panic streaks across his face.

“I overslept.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Legend puts a hand to his chest, pushing him back as he tries to get out of bed. He shivers beneath his touch, breath hitching.

“And it’s no wonder that you did. You look like crap, Wars. How long have you been sick?”

Warriors swallows, cringing as he does it.

“Don’t know.” He shrugs, weakly. “I haven’t felt well all week but I thought…I thought I was fine.”

His eyes widen.

“I’m gonna get everyone sick!”

“Well, yeah, probably. But we’ll be fine.”

Legend presses the palm of his hand to Warriors’ head, ignoring his weak attempts to shove him off.

“You’re burning up, captain. Lie back down.”

“But we-we need to get going…” Warriors looks up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “We were so close to the…we were so close…”

Legend sighs. “The monsters can wait. You need to rest.”

“Is everything alright in here?”

Time peeks around the door, now, a concerned expression on his face. When he catches sight of Warriors it deepens. In two strides, he is within the room.

“Captain, are you well?”

“He’s definitely not,” Legend says before Warriors can try and make excuses. “He’s sick as a dog.”

Time places a hand on Warriors’ forehead, then retracts it, a frown darkening his features.

“We will stay in the inn today. You must rest.”

“But Sprite…” Warriors begins. Time shakes his head.

“I’ll hear no arguments from the very man who forcibly snuggled me until I slept as a child.”

Legend snorts. “He did what?”

Time only smiles, his attention still on Warriors.

“Pushing on will only make you worse, captain. You would be the first to pause the journey if one of us were in your place. Let us take care of you.”

“Fine.” Warriors slouches, defeated. “Why’re you two so stubborn?”

Legend grins.

“You think we’re bad? Just wait until you see the others.” He winks. “Lemme go get ‘em.”

As he turns on his heel, Legend sees Warriors sink further into the bed. His grin grows wider.

Get comforted, captain.

Less than half of an hour later, the bedroom is swarmed by eight heroes, all armed with illness-fighting supplies. Sky and Wild, come bearing warm soup.

(“It’s the best for a sore throat,” Sky says with a smile and Wild nods, “yup, I cooked a big batch too, so you’ll have plenty of it.”)

Hyrule offers healing potions. Wind and Four bring armfuls of blankets.

(“Did you two raid every house in Castle Town?” Time asks in disbelief as he takes the small heroes’ bundles. Wind grins.)

(“Basically.”)

Twilight brings fresh water from the spring just outside of town, said to have healing properties…and also a stray cat to keep the captain company.

(“You sure that’s for his benefit?” Legend asks, narrowing his eyes as the rancher sets the animal on Warriors’ lap. Twilight just grins.)

Soon, Warriors is lying down once more, wrapped snugly in what Wind dubs a “blanket burrito,” with a belly full of soup and a cat on his legs.

Time brushes his bangs out of his eyes and places a cool cloth on his forehead. Warriors sighs at the touch.

“Are you feeling a little better now?” Wind asks, eyes wide with concern. Oblivious to the captain’s warnings about germs, he has managed to fit himself in between the eternal blankets and the cat, cuddled against Warriors’ side.

Not that the knight seems to mind overly much, now that all is said and done. And as he settles on the end of the bed, Legend can’t help thinking he looks glad to have the company.

Warriors nods, eyes drooping.

“Yeah, I’m better, sailor.” He sends the heroes a tired grin. “Thanks to all of you.” His gaze flicks to Legend. “Especially, you vet.”

Legend’s cheeks heat and he looks down, waving a dismissive hand.

“Ah, no big deal. I’m not so mean as to let you die in here all alone and snotty and miserable.”

Warriors chuckles and closes his eyes. “So, you decided to suffocate me with blankets instead?”

Legend shrugs, a grin playing on his lips. “What can I say? I’m merciful.”

The blankets in question look rather comfortable and he decides to lay down upon them. He’s not the only one either. All of the heroes have drifted over now, cuddling up on a bed not made for nine men and boys. But they make do. And Warriors seems to melt in their embrace.

Legend smiles at the peaceful look on the captain’s face as he drifts off. He guesses even someone like the pretty boy needs a break once in a while. And — he chuckles as Wind and the cat compete for space — some snuggles too.

[a-tad-bit-unhinged]

Oops my hand slipped-

[coldsandfluff]

The B/old Type Sickfic (F contagion, Jane, Sutton & Kat)

A soft & sweet sickfic filled with contagion, banter, fluffy care-taking and denial.

Kinda forgot that I was in the middle of migrating my old fics to Tumblr, and that I even wrote this fanfic from The B/old Type years ago. I don't think I've ever seen fics from this TV show before, so it might be too niche, but just in case some of you have seen it and would love it, I'm leaving it right here to be found.

THE STORY: Jane catches a cold and accidentally passes it around to her best friends. It's a mix of platonic care-taking between the girls as well as romantic care-taking with the Jane/Pinstripe and Sutton/Richard pairings. The story happens a few seasons into the show, so there are a bit of spoilers in there, just in case you care.

Enjoy!

The Cold Type

Jane Sloan loved New York. There was nothing quite like taking a stroll down a busy street, watching people go by in a hurry, surrounded by buildings so tall they could kiss the sky. New York had always felt like home to her.

But if there was one thing that she hated about the city, it was winter. Especially when it lingered well into spring, blowing freezing winds through thin coats until every single hair raised in shivery protest.

It wasn’t that Jane didn’t own warmer coats—quite the contrary: she owned many, many coats. It was just that New York had moved on to spring fashion weeks ago. It was officially trench coat and bomber jacket season. Sure, Jane could have checked the weather before leaving her apartment in the morning, but then she might have missed the next train, which was a big no-no. Sometimes, the easiest choice was the worst one, and when you’re battling a low-level morning headache, there’s just no way around it.

And that’s why Jane cursed herself as she trudged down the street, wrestling the wind and struggling to keep her military green bomber jacket closed against her chest. When she finally reached her office building, she gratefully slipped through the door and welcomed the comparative peace and quiet of the atrium. Sure, there was the usual morning bustle as everyone made their way to their floor to start their workday, but it was nothing compared to the whistling of an insistent winter wind.

Jane sniffled, her nose running from the change of temperature. And, of course, she hadn’t brought tissues either. Tissues were for winter jackets.

“Jane!” called Kat at the top of the escalator leading to the lobby, waving two to-go coffee cups. Sutton stood next to her, flashing Jane a smile. They both looked fabulous, as always, and Jane was hit by a surge of love for her best friends.

After a quick ride up the escalator, during which Jane tried to get her shivering body under control, she lurched forward towards the coffee cup that Kat held out for her. Holding it with both hands, Jane took a sip, hoping the steaming liquid would warm her from the inside.

“Well, hello to you too,” said Kat with a raised eyebrow.

“Cold,” said Jane in-between sips. “So cold.”

Kat put her arm around Jane’s shoulder, bringing her closer. “You should have worn something warmer, silly.”

“Can’t. It’s spring,” mumbled Jane as the three girls headed towards the elevator.

“So?” asked Kat.

“You can’t argue with fashion,” said Sutton. “But you can accessorize better,” she added, removing her large pale blue scarf and wrapping it around Jane’s neck. “This is called ‘fashion smart.’”

“I could have used some of your ‘fashion smart’ this morning, but you were gone before I even woke up,” said Jane, arranging the scarf with her free hand. “I don’t even know how you’re functioning with so little sleep.” Her voice caught at the end of the sentence. She cleared her throat, wincing.

Sutton sighed, pressing the elevator button. “We’ve got so much work to do before Paris fashion week. I’m basically working 20 hours a day at this point. I don’t even know why I go back to the apartment at all.”

“I have a tent you can borrow,” said Kat with a teasing smile. “It’s a pop-up tent. You just put it on the ground, pull a little, and SURPRISE! It’s a fully assembled tent. It would work great in the office.”

“Amazing,” said Sutton with mock enthusiasm.

Jane felt a prickle in her nose, burning like wildfire through her sinuses. A quick, squeaky gasp escaped her lips as she turned away from her friends, her breath catching in her throat. “Hhh—Ihh’TSCHheew! Ehh’TSCHheew!”

“Bless—“ started Kat.

“NN’TSCHheew! Excuse me.”

“Bless you!” said Kat and Sutton almost in unison. Kat examined Jane’s face, as if seeing it for the first time today. “Are you getting sick?”

Jane shook her head. “No.”

Sutton narrowed her eyes. “You do sound a little… scratchy,” she said, wriggling her fingers in front of her own throat.

Kat nodded, leaning towards Jane for a better look. “She does. And she’s a bit pale, too.”

“Guys, I’m not sick.” Jane sighed. “It was just a sneeze. Calm down.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. The three girls stepped in, along with a few other employees.

“It was three, actually,” said Sutton, pressing Scarlet’s floor button.

“Three pretty strong sneezes,” added Kat, biting her lips to repress a smile.

Jane knew the more she reacted, the more they would tease her about it, but for some reason, their accusation really irritated her. So she’d sneezed and was a bit tired. Big deal. She was not sick.

“Guys, just stop. Can’t a girl sneeze in peace in this world anymore? Sheesh.” Jane had tried to spin her reply in a carefree, fun way, but it had come out a lot harsher than she’d intended.

“Whatever. Just don’t get me sick,” said Sutton, matching her seriousness. “I don’t have time to get sick.”

“Not a problem. ’Cause I’m not sick.”

~~~

Jane sat in the conference room, nursing her second round of coffee that morning. The first one hadn’t made a dent in her fatigue. She wondered if Kat had accidentally gotten her a decaf latte. This time, she’d chosen a dark roast and had forgone milk and sugar; a pitiful attempt at tricking her body into thinking the coffee was stronger. She’d written an article about the power of the placebo effect during her recent stint as a freelancer, so this would be an interesting experience. At the very least, the disgustingly bitter taste would be enough to keep her awake during the pitch meeting. She took another sip, grimacing.

Jacqueline C/arlyle waltzed into the room, ready for business. Everyone around the table, including Jane, immediately sat straighter. It wasn’t that Jacqueline intimidated them—although on some levels, she did—, it was more that she inspired them to be better. The editor-in-chief emanated an aura of confidence and self-control, enveloped in just enough warmth to nurture and encourage growth. Jane aspired to be even half the woman Jacqueline was when she reached her age.

“Alright everyone,” said Jacqueline, standing at the end of the table, a cordial smile on her lips, “let’s hear your pitches for this week. I’d like us to extend our theme of powerful women hiding within the workplace. We’ll also need a few light pieces and a quiz for this month.”

Jacqueline went around the table, listening to pitches and guiding writers in the right direction. Jane watched her work, transfixed. Soon, her mind started floating around the room, her eyes unfocused. However, when one of the writers proposed a piece about women in the White House, Jane snapped back to reality. Her heart dropped to the floor.

That was the pitch she was going to propose when her turn came.

Panicked, she crossed it off the page in her notebook, but there was nothing else to fall back on. She’d been so confident that Jacqueline would love it that she hadn’t come up with a plan B. And sure enough, Jacqueline gave the writer the green light for the piece. Great.

There were only two more people before Jane. She had to think fast, but her mind was blank, her thoughts dry. Awakened by the rush of adrenaline, Jane’s nose started tickling again, adding to her distraction. Women in hiding, women in hiding, she mumbled under her breath, trying to jolt her brain awake. Her nose twitched as the tickle turned into a sparkle, making her eyes water. She tried to control her breathing, but the brewing sneeze wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“Jane?” asked Jacqueline, looking down at her notebook.

Jane didn’t answer, struggling with the tickle. She brought up her elbow and turned towards the side, getting ready for a sneeze that suddenly didn’t want to come out.

Jacqueline lifted her gaze. “Jane?”

“Hhh—Ihh’TSCHhheew! So sorry, I��’TSChheew!”

“Oh, bless you! You alright there?”

Jane sniffled quietly, sitting upright in her chair. “Yes. Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize. So, what do you have for me this week?”

Jane stared at the elegant older woman, trying to throw out an idea. Any idea. Or even form words with her mouth. Any word. “Um…” She saw her boss’s features transform from an open smile to a puzzled raised eyebrow. “Uhhh…”

“Do you want me to come back to you?”

“No! I just…” Jane cursed herself internally. Why hadn’t she said yes? What was wrong with her? “I was thinking about…” Finally, an idea hit her. “Pseudonyms!” she practically yelled, raising halfway in her chair. “Women authors using pseudonyms or initials in order to make it in the book publishing industry.” She saw Jacqueline’s eyes light up, which spurred her forward. “I could interview authors and agents to find out if and why it’s affecting how readers choose books to purchase.”

“That sounds great Jane! Let’s go with that.”

Jane smiled and relaxed in her seat. But her elation was short-lived. She didn’t actually know anyone in the publishing industry.

Where would she even start?

~~~

“You look terrible,” said Kat as she leaned on Jane’s desk. Her friend was slumped in her chair, her eyes glazed over as she stared at the screen.

There was no doubt in Kat’s mind that Jane was sick, no matter how much the brunette denied it. It was kind of adorable how much Jane argued about it, right up until the point where she could no longer hide it. Kat wondered if it was because Jane hated appearing vulnerable, or if she was actually trying to convince herself that she was healthy.

Jane sighed, rubbing her forehead as if to calm a nagging headache. “I’m just tired.” She grabbed her empty mug and peered into it. “Wanna grab coffee downstairs?”

“Sure! I was actually going to ask if you wanted to get some lunch.”

Jane scrunched up her nose. “Not really hungry. But I’ll come along. I can use a break from… doing absolutely nothing except panicking.”

Kat pouted, resisting the urge to say something about Jane’s lack of appetite. She already looked miserable, and Kat didn’t want to irritate her even more. Plus, it wasn’t as fun to tease Jane without Sutton around.

Kat linked her arm around Jane’s as they headed downstairs. “What’s going on?”

“Just got my assignment for the week,” Jane said, her voice cracking at the edge. “Actually, I assigned myself a piece without any leads and I just spent the entire morning trying to figure out my angle. Do you happen to know any authors or agents?”

Kat shook her head. “Not personally, but I can poke around my contacts on social media if you need. What’s the piece about?”

“Women using male pseudonyms to publish books.”

“Oh, kind of like L. M. Montgomery?”

“Yeah, but I want the opinion of women currently in the industry to see if the new feminism movement has changed anything. Except I don’t know where to start.” She laid her head on Kat’s shoulder and sighed.

Kat frowned. It wasn’t like Jane to feel so defeated over something as simple as finding contacts. There were multiple ways to approach it, and Jane had done it before. Kat knew it was a sign that her friend wasn’t feeling well. It broke her heart.

“Let me know how I can help. If you think of anyone, I can try to reach out. You know the six degrees of Kevin Bacon thing? I’m like three degrees closer.”

Jane laughed, which triggered a small, pitiful cough. Kat cooed and squeezed her friend closer. She wondered how long it would take before Jane gave in and finally agreed to rest. Last time, it had taken a good three days and a lot of convincing. And some yelling.

Kat was grateful that her immune system was basically indestructible. She hadn’t been sick in nearly four years, and couldn’t remember how it felt to have a cold. She attributed it to a good sleeping routine and her daily morning smoothie. All that vitamin C was paying off, baby!

As soon as they reached the ground floor, the pair headed for the coffee shop in the center of the lobby. Midday light filtered in from the two-story windows covering the outside wall. People milled around, drinking coffee, sitting with their laptops at the many tables scattered around the open space. Kat smelled the aroma of coffee and fresh bread wafting around, her stomach grumbling. Maybe she would get a sandwich at the café. She didn’t really want to force Jane to go out in the cold if she didn’t need to.

“Sloan!” a man called behind them.

The two girls turned around. Pinstripe, a.k.a Ryan, a writer who used to work upstairs at Pinstripe magazine, walked towards them with a big grin on his face. Beard stubbles, short haircut, leather jacket over black t-shirt and tight black jeans—he looked like he had just jumped out of a romance novel about a reformed bad boy with a heart of gold. Kat still didn’t quite know what to think of him yet. Or even what Jane truly thought of him. The two had dated very briefly until Jane had realized that he wasn’t ready to commit.

“So we meet again,” said Jane, her voice dripping with sarcasm. That was their thing. Sarcasm. Kat didn’t really get it, but she always enjoyed watching it unfold.

“It’s equally lovely to see you,” said Pinstripe. His smile faltered as he examined Jane’s face. “Rough party last night?”

Kat bit her lip to stop herself from giggling. She felt Jane tense next to her.

“No. It’s Monday. This is my Monday face.” Just as she said it, her nose scrunched up. Her eyelids fluttered and her mouth hung open for a moment. She turned to her side and sneezed into her elbow. “Ihh’TSCHhheew! Ugh. Ehhh… Ehh—TSCHhheew!”

“Bless you, Sloan!” said Pinstripe, a hint of surprise in his voice. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sneeze.”

“Well, congratulations, you got a two-for-one deal. Hope you enjoyed the show.” Jane’s voice was strained and exhausted, void of her usual liveliness. Even Pinstripe seemed to notice it.

Kat tried to change the subject. “You know, for someone who doesn’t work here anymore, you sure hang out in the lobby a lot.”

“Oh, Sloan didn’t tell you? I got a book deal upstairs. I’m just meeting with my editor.”

“Congratulations!” Kat said, then turned to Jane. “Wait, Jane, weren’t you—“

Jane’s face lit up. “Oh my god, how could I even forget this? Of course!”

Pinstripe stood in silence, looking back and forth between the girls with a confused look.

“I’m writing a piece on the publishing industry,” explained Jane, suddenly a little more alive. “Do you think you could hook me up with a few contacts?”

Pinstripe smiled. “Sloan, if you keep asking me for favors, you’re going to owe me for eternity.”

“Hey, you said I was the one who pushed you to write this book. You owe me!”

Pinstripe chuckled and bowed his head. “Good point.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting in a few minutes, but let’s meet up tomorrow afternoon at our usual spot?”

Jane nodded. “Sounds good. See you then.”

Kat watched him walk towards the elevator, silence stretching between Jane and her. She held it in for as long as she could, but it was too much to bear. “’Our usual spot?’” she asked in a sing-song tone.

“It’s a coffee shop,” said Jane with a warning look, but a smile on her lips. “Don’t you start.”

Kat shrugged. “Just sayin’! You’re kind of playing with fire here, Jane.”

“Speaking of fire, let’s get some coffee. It’s freezing in here.”

Kat nodded. It wasn’t really that cold in the lobby, but she could see the goosebumps on Jane’s arms. She wondered if she could get her to wear the wool cardigan she kept in her office for when the AC blasted frigid air in the summer. The trick was to figure out a way to offer it to Jane without making it obvious that Kat knew she was sick.

She decided it would be her challenge for the day.

~~~

The next morning, Richard H/unter jogged to the elevators, suitcase in hand. “Hold it please!” he yelled, making it just in time to prevent the doors from closing. He stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed that none other than Sutton stood in the center of the elevator, alone.

Her eyes widened when she realized it was him. Richard finally stepped in with a polite smile and stood next to her, his heart beating out of his chest. It always did that when he ran into Sutton at work. It was excruciating.

“Good morning,” he said.

Sutton smiled and nodded without looking straight at him.

As the elevator rode up, Richard stole a glance at her. Frowning, he noticed that she looked pale, and her nose was a bit red. Had she been crying? His heart dropped at the memory of the last time he’d seen her cry, when she’d put an end to their secret relationship.

Sutton sniffled. A quiet little noise that caught Richard’s attention.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his professional front disintegrating.

She looked at him, then looked down. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But Richard heard it. A bit of congestion in her voice, a slight croak. She’s sick, he realized. Just as he was about to say something, the elevator doors opened. People filed in, splitting Richard and Sutton apart.

Suddenly, Richard heard a tiny gasp, followed by a dainty sneeze. He turned his head in time to catch Sutton bent to the side, her hand over her mouth. His “bless you” got lost in the few other well wishes around, and soon enough, Sutton stepped off the elevator onto her floor. The door closed shut behind her, leaving Richard concerned, and yearning to see her again.

He shut his eyes for a moment. Sutton had made her choice, and so had he. There was no going back.

~~~

Sutton brought a tissue to her nose, wiping it in anger as she rushed to Oliver’s office. She hated sneezing in tight crowds, and of course it had to have happened with Richard two feet away. Her face was still hot from embarrassment. Not only did she have to deal with this, but now she’d have to face Oliver’s wrath for being late. All because she’d slept through her alarm.

And all because she’d caught Jane’s stupid cold.

Her head was swimming, her sinuses were hurting, her throat was scratchy. She’d slept like a brick under the effect of Nyquil, so much so that she hadn’t heard Jane leave. Why hadn’t she woken her up?

As she rushed past Jane’s desk, she leaned towards her roommate and whispered, “You got me sick AND you didn’t wake me up?!”

Jane’s surprised gaze met hers. “I’m not sick,” she whispered back, “and I left early to work on my piece!”

Sutton grunted, resuming her speed walk. She didn’t have time for this. As soon as he saw her from behind the glass walls of his office, Oliver called out to her with his booming voice, earning a few glances from the writers.

“Red!” he yelled. “Where the hell were you?”

Sutton rushed towards him. “I’m so sorry Oliver, I—“

“I don’t have time for excuses,” Oliver interrupted her. He glanced up at her from the portfolio he held in his hand. His expression softened a bit. Did Sutton look so bad that even Oliver pitied her? “Don’t be late again. Especially before Paris. Got it?”

“Got it,” said Sutton, nodding.

Her boss proceeded to list about a thousand tasks he needed her to do, including retrieving a few missing pieces for the collection they were bringing to Paris. Sutton took note of everything, her handwriting becoming mere scribbles as she tried to keep up.

Her nose started tickling. She bit her tongue, hoping to ward off the sneeze, to no avail. She held her breath, still writing, until the burning in her sinuses took over and she could no longer control it. She brought her wrist up to her nose and stifled an exasperated double. “Hhh! KSCHhh! Ihh’KSCHhh!”

“Oh and Red?” said Oliver when she was done.

Sutton sniffled. “Yes?”

“Please keep your germs contained.”

Sutton’s face caught fire once again. She wished she’d just stayed in bed and hid from the world underneath her covers, but the fashion department was under stress from the preparations, and they were already understaffed. There was no way Sutton could take a sick day without jeopardizing the schedule—and letting Oliver down.

She turned around, ready to leave, when Oliver added, “Make sure to bundle up, too.” He kept his gaze on the pile of forms on his desk. “It’s cold outside.”

Sutton smiled to herself. At least he wasn’t too mad.

~~~

“Ehh—Hhh’TSCHheew!”

“Bless you, Sloan,” said Pinstripe, offering her a napkin. “This is the fourth sneeze in half an hour. Are you ready to throw in the towel and admit that you’re under the weather?”

The two sat in their usual spot, a typical hipster coffee shop filled with plants, mismatched chairs and handlebar mustachioed men. The sound of quiet chatter and keyboard typing filled the room around them, and Jane probably would have been able to smell the familiar scent of freshly roasted coffee beans if it wasn’t for her deeply congested nose.

She grabbed the napkin from Pinstripe and groaned. Admitting that she was sick was already hard, but doing it in front of Pinstripe was just the rotten cherry on the expired cake. But there was no denying it. Her symptoms were ten times worse than the day before. She battled a constant tickle in her nose, on top of a sinus headache, a runny nose and chills.

“So I’ve caught a bit of a cold, what’s the big deal?”

Pinstripe gave her an empathetic smile, which sent Jane into a confusing mix of irritation and gooey warmth. “I mean this in the best way possible, but you really don’t sound good, Jane.”

“Don’t you ‘Jane’ me,” she said, rubbing her temples. He only used her first name when he was being serious.

“Isn’t your boyfriend a doctor? Can’t he magically cure you of this cold?”

Jane rolled her eyes, taking another sip of coffee. “He’s really busy at the hospital this week. Tonight is his only night off.” She regretted saying this immediately. It sounded needy, like she was complaining that Ben wasn’t available enough. It hadn’t been a problem until yesterday evening when she’d felt like crap and wished he could have been there to keep her warm. She knew it was just the cold making her feel vulnerable. It was a horrible feeling.

Pinstripe leaned over the table, looking at her straight in the eyes. “You should go home and sleep. You have more than enough time to write your article.”

“I don’t even have a lead yet,” Jane whined.

“I’ve got one for you.” He passed her a Post-it note with a few names and phone numbers written on it. “I’m sure at least one of them will be happy to meet with you. When you’re healthy.”

Jane made a face at him, which quickly morphed into a pre-sneeze expression. She unfolded the napkin and sneezed into it, away from the table. “IIHH’TSCHhheew! Ugh, this is get—getting o—’TSCHhheew!… old.”

“Bless you,” said Pinstripe, his voice modulated by a hint of tenderness Jane didn’t know he could muster. “Go home. Take care of yourself.”

She smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

~~~

Sutton pushed the heavy door of Safford’s building with her shoulder, her hands full of garment bags. Grunting, she slipped through the small crack she managed to open for herself, careful not to get the bags stuck in the door. Why was it that the entrance was always crowded when she was in a rush, making it impossible to get through, but when she needed help with the door, the place was deserted?

She gave a short, polite smile to the security guard at the badge station, and managed to swipe her badge on the scanner without dropping anything. She took a deep breath, looking at the escalator as if it were an insurmountable mountain. Her arms were so tired of carrying such a big load that her muscles were shaking.

She had spent the entire day running around the city, picking up clothing and jewelry requested by Oliver. Running in and out of overheated offices into the cold New York streets had done a number on her sick body, confusing its temperature regulation. Sutton felt both hot and cold, and didn’t know if she dreamed of a hot bath or an iced cold lemonade at the moment.

She’d blown through three packets of pocket tissues and had been blessed by at least four different Uber drivers. As she walked through the atrium, she avoided looking at the huge decorative mirror on the wall. If she looked anything like she felt, she’d be mortified that anyone had seen her like this. She’d rather not know at all.

She sniffled, her nose tickling like crazy. With no hands to grab a tissue, all she could do was wiggle it and hope for the best. The tickle vibrated through the bridge of her nose, making her breath itch. She didn’t stop, fumbling forward as her eyes closed.

“Hhh’KSCHhh!… IHH’KSCHHh!”

The sneezes were desperate and powerful, bending her at the waist, which was all it took for her to lose her balance. She yelped, feeling herself fall forward, but a steady hand grabbed her at the last moment.

“Easy,” said the man as he helped her right herself.

Sutton’s heart flipped in her chest. She’d recognize the voice anywhere.

“Richard! I—Hhh’KSChhh!”

Richard tightened his grip on her arm, steadying her. When she met his gaze, Sutton noticed Richard’s eyes were filled with concern. Her heart ached with a desire to press herself against his chest and feel his arms envelop her. But she couldn’t. She’d made her decision—she’d chosen her career over Richard. And now he had a girlfriend.

“Bless you,” Richard murmured, his warm hand still against Sutton’s arm. When he realized it, he took it off. “Are you alright?”

Sutton nodded, trying to pry her eyes away from his. His brow furrowed as if to say, “No you’re not.” It was a look he’d given her before, when they’d sneak into each other’s apartment at night to be together. She knew his body language like the back or her hand, and so did he.

She gave a short, pitiful laugh. “I’ll be OK. I just… I caught a cold. From Jane. It’s nothing.” He cast another doubtful, protective look upon her.

“Sutton!” yelled another voice nearby.

Sutton looked up to see Kat jogging down the escalator.

“Are you OK?” Kat asked as she reached Sutton and Richard.

“Yeah, Richard saved me,” Sutton said with a sad smile.

“Amazing.” Kat briefly nodded at Richard. “Here, let me help you bring these up,” she said to Sutton, grabbing most of the garment bags. “I haven’t seen you all day, where have you been?”

“Getting all of these,” Sutton said. She looked back at Richard again. He seemed uncomfortable and awkward, something she’d never witnessed before. It was odd to see such a professional, put-together executive suddenly feel small and out of place.

“I should probably go,” Richard said, pointing towards the elevator. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

Sutton smiled and nodded.

When he was a few paces away, Kat whispered, “Wanna wait until he’s gone so we’re not stuck in the same elevator as him?”

Sutton scoffed. “Uh, yeah!”

Once the coast was clear, they headed back to the office.

“So you caught Jane’s non-existent cold, huh?”

Sutton rolled her eyes. “If only she’d admit it sooner, maybe she wouldn’t spread it to everyone around. Although I guess I’m no better, sneezing all over the place. I’m probably going to get you sick.” She took a few steps away from Kat.

“Nah-ah!” said Kat. “I don’t get sick. My immune system is impenetrable.” She raised her fists under the garment bags. “Come at me, viruses! Adena says I’m going to jinx myself if I keep saying it.”

Sutton shifted her pile of garment bags under one arm and used her free hand to fetch a balled-up tissue, having no choice but to re-use it. She wiped her nose gingerly. “How is it going with Adena and the whole ‘open relationship’ thing?”

Kat deflated a bit. “It’s… alright. It’s not bad.”

Sutton raised an eyebrow.

“I just... On the one hand, it’s fun to explore my sexuality with different girls and see what I like, but on the other hand, it just feels… empty? And I’m starting to miss Adena. We don’t see each other as much.”

“Maybe you just need to take a small break and spend time with her?”

“I would, but she’s at a retreat right now. I’ve got a date tomorrow night, actually. Might as well use up the time when Adena’s gone.”

Sutton could tell the novelty of the experience was waning, and Kat wasn’t having that much fun anymore, but she didn’t know how to help her friend. She had no experience with open relationships and was worried that she’d give her the wrong advice.

“Well, I’m here if you want to talk or hang out.”

Kat smiled. “I know. And I’m here to rescue you from evil garment bags. And Richard.”

Sutton sighed. “Sometimes I don’t know if I want to be rescued from him.”

~~~

Jane sat on her couch, burritoed into a blanket while her boyfriend read the thermometer he had just plucked out of her mouth. She couldn’t believe that the only night she got to spend with Ben this week would be completely ruined by a stupid cold.

“Just a low-grade fever. You’ll be fine. Rest and drink plenty of fluids.”

Jane groaned and buried her face under the blanket. “I feel so gross.”

Ben smiled and patted her on the back. “It’s just a good old regular cold.”

The only answer she could muster from underneath the blanket was two exhausted sneezes. “Hhh’TSCHheew! Hhh—TSCHheew!”

“Bless you.” His Australian accent managed to make even a “bless you” sound sexy to Jane. If only she didn’t feel so rotten. “Need more tissues?”

Jane mumbled a “yes” before coming up for air, sniffling. After spending the afternoon on the phone scheduling meetups with Pinstripe’s contacts, her condition had deteriorated to the point where she could no longer focus on the screen. She’d spent the evening on the couch, feeling sorry for herself.

The door to the apartment opened and closed. Jane watched as Sutton stepped into the living room, looking worse for wear. She glared at Jane, then shuffled to the couch. “Move,” she told Jane, flopping dramatically between her and Ben. “I feel like death.”

“You too?” said Ben, unable to repress a smile. “How about I make you guys some tea?”

Both girls nodded. As soon as he got up from the couch, Sutton grabbed the blanket he had been sitting on and buried into it. “You’re already admitting that you’re sick and it’s only day two. Impressive,” said Sutton, her voice heavy with congestion.

“I didn’t have much choice.” Her symptoms had hit her so hard so fast. She was used to a slow build, which sometimes turned into a false alarm, but this cold was feisty.

Jane looked at her friend, noticing the flush high on her cheeks and her poor irritated nose. She felt terrible about passing on her germs to Sutton, but then again, they lived in a one-bedroom apartment. Sutton slept in the living room, and they shared a tiny closet of a bathroom. It was impossible not to spread a cold in such close quarter. She’d be worried about getting Ben sick too if she didn’t know he’d built an amazing immune system from years of working in a hospital.

“I’ll get my revenge somehow,” mumbled Sutton, as if reading her mind.

Jane pushed gently on Sutton’s thigh with her fuzzy sock-cladded foot. “Come on, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” She pouted at her roommate, but Sutton shook her head. Jane tried again. “I’m really, really sor—Eh… Ihh’TSCHheew! Sorry—’TSCHheew!”

“God, it’s impossible to be mad at you when you sound so mise—miserable—Hhh’KSCHHhh!”

The two girls burst out laughing, passing around a box of tissues. They were quiet for a bit, lulled by the sound of ceramic cups clattering in the kitchen and water rushing out of the tap.

“I fell into Richard’s arms today,” said Sutton, mid-blowing her nose.

Jane���s mouth fell open. “Nooo! What happened?”

“I guess the correct way to describe it is that I sneezed myself off my feet, and he prevented me from face-planting on the marble floor.”

Jane grimaced. “How did that go?”

“My head is intact, but my heart is in pieces.” She threw the used tissue in a nearby overflowing bin. “How long will it take before it stops hurting?”

Jane bit her lip. Sutton had had a hard time letting go of Richard since she’d put an end to their relationship, and learning that he had a new girlfriend had only made it worse. You only know you love someone when you let them go, thought Jane, but she didn’t say it aloud. There was no need to rub salt in the wound.

“I guess heartbreak is just like a cold. Only time and rest will heal it,” Jane said.

Sutton laughed. “That should be your next article.”

“Oh yes, because I’m sure Scarlet’s readers would love to hear all about the intersection of runny noses and missed opportunities.”

Sutton laid her head on the armrest, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. “No but think about it. The scratchy throat is like small issues that pop up in the relationship. And if you don’t do anything about it, it turns into a sore throat, which is when you start yelling at each other. When you grow apart, you start feeling chills because you’ve lost the warmth of the other. And the headache is pretty self-explanatory.”

“I think your fever is higher than mine,” mused Jane, laughing. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Excuse me? It makes perfect sense.”

“OK, what about sneezing? What does it mean?”

Sutton remained silent for a few seconds. “Sneezing means… Uhh… Sneezing means that—Hhh’KSCHhh! Alright sneezing means nothing—it just sucks, and being sick sucks, and metaphors suck.”

Jane burst out laughing, and Sutton soon joined in, until they both started coughing from laughing too much. Ben walked in with two steaming mugs, telling them to settle down and have some tea to soothe their throats.

Sutton sat up and grabbed her mug. “Can’t you just give us some kind of pill or shot to cure this?” she asked Ben.

Ben shook his head. “I’m afraid not. All you girls need is rest, which neither of you seem too keen on getting.”

His remark was met with the deafening silence of two stubborn career-driven women.

~~~

The next morning, Richard took the elevator down to Scarlet’s office for a meeting with Jacqueline. As the floor number decreased, he caught himself readjusting his tie as if it was too tight. He forced his hands down and clenched his jaw.

He hoped he would see Sutton, but also hoped he wouldn’t.

Things had been rocky with his girlfriend in the past few weeks. He wasn’t sure anymore if she was right for him, though he hadn’t been able to express why. Now he was starting to get a clearer picture: She just wasn’t Sutton.

Richard recalled his last run-in with Sutton the day before, when she’d almost fallen in the atrium. How lucky for him to have been so close to her when it had happened. Touching her had sent a jolt of electricity through his veins.

She’d looked so exhausted. He hoped that she was at home resting today.

As soon as he stepped into Scarlet’s offices, Richard looked towards Oliver’s atelier, his eyes searching for Sutton. He spotted her immediately. She had her back to him, leaning over a table filled with accessories. As Richard approached Jacqueline’s office, Sutton turned her head, giving Richard a better look at her face. She seemed even sicker than the day before, her skin pale and her nose bright red. She stood a little slumped over, as if her body didn’t have the energy to stay upright. Richard’s heart ached for her.

“Richard?” called Jacqueline, standing in the doorway of her office. “Everything alright?”

Richard plastered a smile on his face and forced himself to walk towards Jacqueline. “Yes, sorry. I thought I saw something.”

Jacqueline glanced towards Oliver’s office, but had the grace not to ask any more questions. Richard forced himself to focus on the task at hand and sat down with Jacqueline to discuss business.

Towards the end of the meeting, Richard noticed Sutton walking towards the kitchen, stopping midway to sneeze into a tissue.

“Well, I think that about covers it,” said Jacqueline, following his gaze once again.

Richard smiled. “Great. I’ll bring your concerns to the board and see what I can do.” He stood up. “Was there anything else?”

“No, you’re free to go!” Jacqueline gestured towards the door. “Have a great day, Richard.”

He could almost hear a hint of teasing in her voice, but he didn’t know if he was imagining it. His relationship with Sutton had been a secret. No one in the office except for Kat and Jane were supposed to know, but maybe his body language had been too obvious, and Jacqueline had picked up on it. He really needed to work on that.

Richard walked out of Jacqueline’s office, heading for the restroom, but made a sharp turn into the kitchen at the last moment. Sutton stood by the coffee machine, trying to choose a coffee pod from the selection on the counter. She stifled a cough in her elbow, then cleared her throat.

Richard moved towards the sink and opened a cupboard, picking up a packet of tea. Sutton had seemed to notice his presence but didn’t say anything.

“You should really be drinking this instead,” Richard said, handing her the tea sachet.

Sutton smiled and took it, turning it into her hands. “That’s what everyone has been telling me, but I could really use the coffee.” Her voice was a wreck, almost gone.

Richard winced. “You really don’t sound good.”

Suddenly, Sutton’s face fell and her eyes half-closed. Her button nose scrunched up. She turned to the side, her body jerking forward under the force of the sneezes. “IHh’KSCHhh! HHh’KSCHHhhh!”

“Bless you,” Richard said, handing her the handkerchief from his breast pocket. He didn’t care if anyone wondered where it went, or even if they saw Sutton with it. He would have before, worried about keeping their relationship a secret, but now it didn’t matter.

Sutton took it, wiping her nose delicately. “Thank you.”

“Sutton, you really need to go home. You have to rest, or you’ll keep getting worse.”

Sutton’s eyes filled with tears. “I wish I could but I have so much work. I can’t just leave.” She blinked the tears away before they fell, shaking her head lightly. “I’ll sleep as soon as fashion week is over.”

Richard just wanted to hold her and make it all better, but all he could do was put a hand on her arm. He noticed she looked flushed, and her body was giving off unnatural heat. He furrowed his brow, his lips a thin line. “Do you have a fever?”

Sutton shrugged. “I’m not sure,” she whispered, avoiding his eyes.

Richard placed his hand on her forehead without really thinking. For a second, he’d managed to forget that they weren’t intimate anymore, his concern clouding everything else. Sutton closed her eyes as if his hand felt nice against her skin, relief washing over her face. Richard kept it there a little longer. She was burning up.

Then he heard footsteps and conversation coming their way. He quickly removed his hand and took a few steps back, crashing down to reality. Sutton frantically spun towards the coffee maker to act busy. Two HR employees came into the kitchen with empty mugs.

“I would recommend the arabica. It’s pretty nice,” Sutton said to Richard in her professional, yet broken voice, a fake smile plastered on her face.

Richard nodded and thanked her, playing along. He watched Sutton fill her mug with hot water, the bag of tea still in her palm. She left the kitchen, shooting him one last parting smile.

He hoped the tea would make her feel at least a little better.

~~~

“And then he just put his hand on your forehead?” asked Kat, a mix of astonishment and giddiness in her voice.

She sat on the pouf in the fashion closet, surrounded by lavish designer clothes. Jane and Sutton laid on the carpeted ground, passing a box of tissues back and forth, looking like two miserable messes.

Sutton nodded. “Yep.” She’d called an emergency meeting in the closet after her encounter with Richard.

Kat couldn’t tell if Sutton’s red cheeks were caused by her cold, or Richard’s tender move. She bit her lip, torn between feeling annoyed that Richard kept popping up in Sutton’s life and acting so concerned for her, which inevitably sent Sutton into a downward spiral of regret, and secretly hoping that it meant they were on the way to reuniting again. Deep down, she felt like they were meant for each other.

“How do you feel?” asked Jane, blowing her nose.

“Like hell.”

Jane scoffed. “I mean about Richard.”

“Like hell,” repeated Sutton. “It was… so nice. I could feel actual sparks when his hand touched my forehead. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just because his hand was cold and my forehead is basically molten lava.”

Kat slipped down on the ground and placed her hand on Sutton’s forehead. “Like this?” She frowned. “My god, you are burning up. You really need to go home.”

Sutton closed her eyes. “People need to stop telling me to go home. I wish I could go home. I dream about going home. I just can’t.” She sighed, then opened her eyes to look at Kat. “Also, this is super nice, but there’s no spark.”

Kat moved her hand down Sutton’s neck in small, soothing motions. Suddenly, Sutton grabbed her wrist, moving it away from her face. Her nostrils flared, her eyes unfocused. “I’m about to… snee—“ Kat leaned out of the way. “Hh’KSCHhhh!”

“Bless you,” said Kat and Jane.

Sutton groaned, her hand over her nose. “Tissue me.” Jane handed her the box, and Sutton pulled out a couple of tissues to blow her nose.

“I wish Ben was a little more like Richard about my cold,” said Jane. “Like… tender, you know? I mean, it’s not that he doesn’t care, but… He’s just so medical about it. It’s all about ‘fluid intake’ and ‘simple respiratory infection’ and ‘healthy people recover from colds in a few days,’ yada-yada-yada. I get it, I know I’m not going to die from this, and he’s dealing with actual serious issues at the hospital, but a little more fussing would be nice.”

Kat laughed. “Jane the Queen of Denial now wants people to fuss about her cold. You are one contradicting woman.”

Jane grabbed the closest clothing item lying on the ground—a beret—and threw it at Kat.

“No but I get it,” said Sutton. “Honestly, I thought I was going to burst into flames when Richard touched my forehead. The way he looked at me, the way he touched me. I felt important and cared for. And he didn’t even care that I look repulsive.” She buried her face in her hands. “I’m so confused. He has a girlfriend. I already made up my mind. What am I going to do?”

Kat stroked her hair. “Well, first you need to get better.” She looked around the closet, balls of tissues littering the ground around the two girls, almost like a chalk silhouette in a murder scene. “And then we need to call the CDC and have them decontaminate this room. Or just… burn it down.”

“I don’t even know why you’re hanging out so close to us,” said Jane, clearing her throat. “You’ll end up catching it, super immune system or not.”

“Nope, not gonna catch it. Still no signs of it.”

Sutton gasped. “Don’t jinx it! You have a date tonight.”

Kat smiled. “I’ll be fine. You worry about yourself.”

~~~

Later that evening, while Jane finished up the first draft of her article, someone knocked at the door. She tightened the blanket around herself and shuffled to the door, ignoring the mess that had become her apartment. The area around her couch was littered with dried-up tea bags in empty mugs, piles of magazines opened at random pages, take-out boxes filled with cold noodles. And tissues. Tissues everywhere.

When she opened the door, she let out a small gasp.

It was Pinstripe.

Of all the people Jane had expected to see standing there, Pinstripe hadn’t even crossed her mind. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d set foot in her apartment. Probably the very last… “fun time” they’d had. God, how long ago was that?

“Sloan,” Pinstripe said, almost as surprised to see her in this state as she was of seeing him on her doorstep. Jane now wished she’d had checked the peephole before opening the door. Maybe she’d have tried to look more presentable.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, the wintery wind drifting in from outside making her shiver.

“May I come in?” He took in her small, shaking body. “You shouldn’t be standing in the doorway like this. I wouldn’t want you to get worse.”

Jane stepped aside, letting Pinstripe walk in. He made sure to close the door behind him. “I asked Kat if you were doing better today and she said you’d gotten worse.” He gave her a sad smile. “Sorry you’re not feeling well.”

“Don’t come too close,” warned Jane, shuffling back to the couch and crumpling back on it. “You don’t want to catch this.”

“I’ll take my chances,” said Pinstripe with a grin. He walked over to the couch and sat down next to Jane, putting a grocery bag he’d been carrying on the ground between his legs. Jane cracked a smile as he looked around, obviously trying very hard not to mention how messy the place was.

“So you just came to check up on me?” mused Jane. “I guess you do have soft side after all.” A fresh tickle grew in her nose. Knowing better than to try to fight it, she leaned over the coffee table and grabbed a few tissues. “Hold on… I gotta—Ehh’TSCHhhheew!”

“Bless you.”

“IHh’TSCHHhheew” Jane groaned.

“Bless you again.” Pinstripe looked at her, a mix of concern and mischievousness in his eyes. “And apparently you have a vulnerable side after all. I guess we’re both full of surprises.”

“What’s in there?” Jane pointed at the grocery bag.

“Oh. I wanted to get something to make you feel better but…” He took out a gallon of apple juice and three chocolate bars.

Jane laughed. “So you have no idea how to shop for sick people.”

“Look, I knew you’d be covered medicine-wise since you’re dating a doctor. And you can never have too much chocolate.” He eyed the apple juice. “The juice was just a panic move.” He looked around the apartment. “Is Sutton not home?”

Jane shook her head, wiping her nose with a tissue. “She’s still at work, the poor thing.”

“Look who’s talking. You’re the poor thing,” he teased, but his face grew serious as he examined her. “You’re all flushed,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Do you have a fever?” Pinstripe slid closer to Jane and put the back of his fingers against her cheek. His brow furrowed, and he moved his hand to the other cheek.

Jane’s insides instantly lit on fire. So this was the spark Sutton had talked about. She felt the coolness of his hand against her burning skin, electricity buzzing from his touch to the tip of her toes and back. Pinstripe stopped moving his hand and kept it on her cheek, looking deep into her eyes. Time slowed down, the air thick with desire.

After what seemed like an eternity, a tickle deep in Jane’s sinuses shook her out of her trance. She wiggled her nose as her mouth fell open. The sneeze progressed as fast as lightning, and Jane barely had enough time to move away from Pinstripe to sneeze into her blanket. “Ehh—TSCHhheew!”

Pinstripe chuckled, letting his hand fall on his lap. “Bless you, Jane.” He looked around, dazed, as if he had also been enraptured in the moment. “I should probably go and… let you rest.” He got up, a hint of awkwardness to his movements, and walked back to the door. “Call me if you need anything, alright?”

Jane nodded. “Thank you for the chocolate. And the apple juice.”

Pinstripe grinned. “Feel better soon.”

~~~

Kat sat on Cammy’s bed, biting her bottom lip. Cammy laid seductively against the pillows, all curves and luscious hair. She was gorgeous. Things had gotten steamy very quickly at the bar where they’d agreed to meet after work. It hadn’t been long before Cammy had invited Kat to her apartment.

It was to be expected—the dates were, after all, only meant to be sexual. She wasn’t looking for a loving relationship. She already had that with Adena.

Kat closed her eyes. Thinking of Adena while making out with another girl was against her rule. It made her incredibly uncomfortable, no matter how many times she reminded herself that Adena had been the one to propose an open relationship.

“Everything OK?” asked Cammy.

Kat nodded. She rolled her shoulders, trying to relax, then resumed kissing her date. Cammy smelled divine, a mix of jasmine and woody, earthy notes. But somehow, something felt off. Kat tried her best to be in the moment and enjoy it, but truth be told, she just wasn’t.

Fatigue had hit her like a ton of bricks towards the late afternoon. It had been a whirlwind of a day at work, with tons of meetings and social media storms. Still, Kat wasn’t usually this tired even after the craziest days.

Cammy grabbed the back of Kat’s head and tried to pull her down, but Kat resisted.

Cammy broke off the kiss, confused. “What’s wrong?”

Kat shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not—" Suddenly, a tickle bloomed in her nose. She sniffed, trying to get rid of it, but it only grew stronger. She gasped and covered her nose with both hands. “EHP’TSChhooo!”

Kat sat on the bed, shocked. She almost never sneezed.

She gasped again, the tickle returning with a white-hot vengeance. “IHP’TSCHhooo!”

She especially never sneezed twice in a row.

“Bless you,” Cammy said, not quite understanding what was happening.

“Oh no,” Kat said with a short laugh.

“What?”

Kat swallowed, testing her throat. Sure enough, there it was. A scratchiness that she hadn’t noticed. And a small headache threatening to grow behind her eyes. The signs had been there most of the afternoon, but Kat hadn’t paid attention to them.

She sniffled, her nose now runny, as if the sneezes had officially unleashed the virus.

“I think I caught a cold.”

~~~

Kat knocked on Jane’s door, shivering in the cold night. When the door opened, Jane greeted her in her trusty blanket.

“I thought you had a date?” Jane said, moving aside to let Kat in.

Kat looked around the place, wondering if a tornado had landed in there. Sutton laid on the couch with a thermometer in her mouth. This was the very picture of Kat’s near future. Soon, she would be the one with a thermometer in her mouth. She was not looking forward to it.

“Is something wrong?” asked Jane, concerned.

“I caught your cold,” said Kat in disbelief.

“You did?!” said Sutton, taking the thermometer out of her mouth.

“Sutton! Keep it in your mouth until it beeps!” scolded Jane.

Sutton made a face, but put the thermometer back in her mouth.

“And you,” Jane said to Kat, “come in here.” She opened her blanket wide, and Kat nestled in there, rearranging it so that they both could fit in spite of their significant height difference. They shuffled awkwardly to the couch and joined Sutton.

“Are you sure you caught it?” asked Jane.

Kat nodded, unable to answer as a tickle took over. She gasped and crumpled down on her lap. “EHHP’TSChhooo!”

“Never mind,” said Jane, laughing. “Welcome to the club. It’s miserable.”

The thermometer beeped and Sutton took it out. “At least we’ve got each other.”

Kat smiled. That was the reason why she’d come straight to Jane’s apartment after apologizing to Cammy and running off. She knew she could always count on her friends to be there for her, in sickness and in health.

She grabbed the box of tissues, peering into it. “We might run out of tissues.”

Jane shook her head. “No worries. If we need more, Pinstripe will deliver.”

Kat looked at her, confused.

“I’ll tell you all about it, but first, we need to decide who’s going to make tea.”

“Not me, I still have a fever,” Sutton said, pouting as she read the thermometer.

“And I’m new to this whole ‘being sick’ thing,” said Kat, exaggerating the sad eyes.

Jane rolled her eyes and got up. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Kat stretched out over Jane’s spot, making herself comfortable. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all. “Guys, we should all call in sick tomorrow and do a movie marathon.”

“I’m definitely calling in sick tomorrow,” said Jane from the kitchen. “I’m in.”

Kat looked expectantly at Sutton. “Come on Sutton, you know you can’t keep going to work like this.”

“It could be arranged,” said Sutton. “Oliver told me to stay home tomorrow if I don’t feel well. He said he’d rather be without me for a day than without everyone else in the team because I infected them all.” She smiled. “I think he meant that he wanted me to rest because he cares about me.”

Kat laughed. “If that’s what you got from it, sure.” She did a little dance. “Yay, movie marathon tomorrow! We haven’t done that in ages. Oooh we can rewatch all the Harry Potter movies!”

Sutton scoffed. “Leave it to Kat to find joy in being sick.”

Jane brought out a tray with three mugs. Kat managed to push around part of the mess on the coffee table to make room for it. Each girl grabbed a cup.

“To feeling like crap,” said Jane, lifting her mug in the air.

“To losing our voice,” added Sutton, raising her own tea.

“And sneezing our asses off,” said Kat.

The three clung their mugs together, and the air filled with honey-lemon scented laughter.

[retrogradedreaming]

Summary: Angel comes back from a shoot sick, and Husk makes him something sweet that brings back old memories. When Husk shares something big about his past, Angel gets curious (and cozy) while Husk lets him into a part of his life.

🖤 Huskerdust ❤️ Sickfic with lots of comfort 🖤 Memories from when Husk was alive ❤️ 2.6k works, one shot, complete

[runecatwrites]

To Lean On (3+1)

A Linked Universe Fanfic

Read it here on AO3!

Word count range: 4-5k

Characters: Wind-centric, feat. Four, Legend, Sky, and Time

Summary: Wind is a bit self-conscious about his status as the youngest member of the group. But as time goes on, he learns just how much his new brothers love him and would do anything for him, and he wholeheartedly reciprocates as he settles into his role.

Or, 3 times a member of the Chain were there for Wind and 1 time he stepped up for one of them.

[maladyinpink]

🎵 If he's tired of gettin' the fish eye, from the hotel clerk...a person...can develop a cold...🎵

Quick lil Angie doodle while I'm out for breakfast. Ngl this idea's been swimmin' around since I read @very-freakin-effable's fic ...thank you for the inspo 💗

[secretobsessionstuff]

Hi hi, I love your work :D Never really got the nerve to send an ask in to say that tbh. If you don't mind, I have a request for a scenario you could possibly do B) No pressure though!! (If you do end up writing this I don't have a preference for any specific characters, but I'm soft for male characters.)

I'm so soft for scenes where a character is sick, but whoever they tell just don't believe them. I'm also soft for when a character coughs hard enough to get sick. If possible could you write something combining those? Or even just one or the other would be great too!! Thanks :D

Thank you for the request and the kind words!! I'm going with the first option because I too am soft for disbelieving caretakers.

------------

Shawn was a man of culture. In the Canadian museum of history, he thoroughly admired every bench, chair, and sofa with his scholarly behind. The current gallery boasted an impressive collection of fucking postage stamps. Shawn dropped his head into his hands with an exaggerated huff. Kill me now.

A mass of whining school children flocked past him, not giving a second thought to the pale and lifeless man lounging on the bench. His boyfriend was lost somewhere in the sea of families and tour groups, probably admiring the royal collection of [redacted]. Shawn didn’t care anymore. He wanted to go back to the Airbnb. 

“Are you going to sulk the entire time?” Mateo had asked as the two of them received their admission tickets. 

“I’m not sulking,” Shawn sulked.  

“Yeah, okay.” Mateo walked further on ahead, determined to enjoy the one event he had specifically requested. “I just wish you would get excited over things I care about.” 

Shawn scrunched his eyes up tight, tired of hearing this. “Hon, you know I care.” His voice was weepy with an edge of annoyance. “I told you, I’m just not feeling up to this.” 

“I recall,” Mateo said, not looking back. “Your malaise came on at such a convenient time.” 

It wasn’t Shawn’s fault that his stomach decided to reject breakfast at precisely that time. He couldn’t control the churning in his gut. The eggs and hashbrowns he had eaten earlier floated in a bath of grease in his belly. He swore he could hear the chirping of baby chicks that did not appreciate being digested. They cried out in his stomach, cursing him for scrambling their potential lives. 

A growing pocket of air forced Shawn into a sitting position. As he straightened his spine, the burp easily rose in his chest. The belch filled his mouth with the taste of sulphur, making him shiver. For the next ten minutes, he concentrated on settling his stomach. He was so lost in thoughts of nausea and discomfort that he did not notice Mateo had approached him. 

“Onto the next exhibit, then.” Mateo waited for Shawn to get up. He seemed almost nonchalant, but underneath it was a longing to experience the museum with his boyfriend. He wanted to hold Shawn’s hand as they walked through the halls. Unfortunately, Shawn kept his hands in his pockets and his head tucked into his neck. “I’m sorry the morning is boring for you. I promise we’ll do something fun later.” 

“I’m not bored, Teo,” Shawn mumbled in between burps. He pressed his fist into his mouth, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “This isn’t my first choice of activity, but I really do want you to enjoy it.” 

Mateo swung his hand at his side, purposefully touching his boyfriend’s arm. “I want to enjoy it with you.” 

“I know.” He smiled sadly. “But I am honestly feeling…Just blah.” 

“Blah?” 

“Blahughuh, in fact.” Shawn forced a smirk that didn’t stick because he felt a ripple of nausea move through his belly. “It’s just my stomach—it’s so gurgly and full.” 

“Maybe it will settle down after one more exhibit.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Well, then you will definitely start feeling better after two more exhibits.” 

“…Mateo.” 

“What?” Mateo said playfully, still not totally taking his boyfriend seriously. “Give it two more exhibits. Your stomach probably just needs time to digest. If you still feel bad after that, then we’ll leave.” 

Shawn did not think that was a good idea, but he let his boyfriend run ahead to the next gallery. He lagged behind like a parent watching their child enjoy themselves. He would have smiled at the way Mateo absorbed himself in the history and culture that so many people dismissed, but a smile would not come to his lips. He kept his mouth pressed into a hard line to keep the nausea at bay. 

Something was horribly wrong in his stomach. The queasiness made his throat feel like it was blocked by a lump of clay. How long was Mateo going to take? Shawn didn’t know how much longer he could last. He walked at a zombie-like pace through the gallery, keeping a hand on his bloated middle. Something squirmed beneath his palm. He imagined bright yellow worms, the colour of scrambled eggs, writhing in his belly. 

Saliva filled his mouth, flooding his tongue with a warm, uncomfortable feeling. Fuck, where was Mateo? Shawn staggered about, feeling his jaw grow heavy. His whole body was telling him to get out of there. 

He found his boyfriend in the corner of the exhibit, reading an informational poster on the wall next to colourful minerals. 

“Teo?” he said after swallowing thickly. The mouthful of thick saliva came right back. “I want to leave now.” 

“Fine.” Mateo sighed, not yet looking at Shawn. “Give me two minutes.” 

Shawn whimpered. He did not have two minutes. His belly gave him two seconds after belching wetly into his hand before it forced its contents up his throat. He braced himself on the wall as a deep retch overtook him. 

Sludgy vomit fell past his lips, splattering on the floor with a wet squelching sound. Nearby people gasped and quickly deserted the area. Shawn put another hand against the wall as his back arched again. There was no stopping this now that it started. 

“Whoa shit,” Mateo said, quickly turning around to take in the sight of his heaving boyfriend. A puddle of pale brown chunks had formed at Shawn’s feet. He placed a gentle hand between Shawn’s shoulder blades. “Oh babes, I’m so sorry.” 

Shawn wanted to say something acidic, but his mouth was again filled with chunky sick. He parted his lips to let the rush of vomit join the growing mess. His poor belly gurgled and constricted. Tears clouded Shawn’s vision. He couldn’t stop the flood from coming. Everything had to come up. 

“Ugh, I can’t stop.” Shawn gagged. He sniffled and wiped at his face before the second gag proved productive. More of the bitter tasting crap came up from the burbling pit of his belly. A sob broke free in between bouts. Drool and snot hung from his chin. 

Mateo’s heart squeezed in his chest. “Shh, Shawn, babe. It’ll be over soon.” 

These cooing words did not fix anything. It did not stop Shawn from gagging, nor did it ease the ache in Mateo’s chest. The mess on the floor was his fault. The sobbing mess of a man was also his fault. None of this would have happened if Mateo had listened the first time. They could have been in a private area, probably curled up in each other’s lap, but no. He decided to prolong his boyfriend’s suffering. 

Finally, Shawn coughed and cleared his throat. His chest rose rapidly in attempt to take in more air. “Ugh God.” The words glued to his throat, coming out wet and thick. “That fucking sucked. I feel disgusting.” 

Mateo rubbed his boyfriend’s shaking back. “Come on. Let’s clean you up in the bathroom.” 

They turned around to find a janitor wheeling a mop bucket in their direction. Shawn’s face turned red, and he allowed himself to be ushered away by Mateo. He pushed the embarrassment deep down and clung to his boyfriend for good measure. 

“So, this is what Blahughuh means,” Mateo said while he wiped Shawn’s face with a wet paper towel. 

Shawn hiccupped and mumbled, “I thought I made myself pretty clear.” 

“You did. I’m sorry.” Mateo rubbed his thumb softly over Shawn’s cheek. “I should have taken you more seriously.” 

“Yeah, I shouldn’t need to puke everywhere for you to listen.” Shawn winced at the spasm that went through his belly. “I might need to go again.” 

Mateo raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What did you do to your poor stomach? Did that breakfast place poison you?” 

“That’s a very possible…possibility.”

Mateo pouted at his grey-ish looking boyfriend. He kissed his forehead. “Time to go. I'll get you a bag for the car.” 

“Five more minutes?” 

Mateo smacked his arm. “Stop, I hate myself.” 

[softsnzstuff]

Decided to write a lil something something requested by @nametakensff - please enjoy some Rockstar AU Steddie with kink!Steve and sick!Eddie

Eddie is still exploring the link and figuring out how he vibes with it all

AS PER USUAL - MINORS DNI - NSFW

“ii’TCH! G’tsh! … H’eKTshiew!”

“Bless you!”

Eddie sniffled thickly against his wrist and brushed the loose strands out hair out of his face. He was sitting on one of the barstools in his apartment playing some chords on his guitar.

“Take a break Eds! You’re gonna get your guitar all germy.” Steve called from the sofa in the living room.

The open layout of the rocker’s apartment made for easy conversation - the downside being that there was no hiding his sneezes especially not from Steve.

“I can’t get it germy, Steven, because I’m not sick.”

The retort came out practically as a rasp, the older man clearing his throat and then coughing.

Steve rolled his eyes at his boyfriend as Eddie twisted the cap off his water bottle and took a few sips.

“You know you don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” Eddie took the hair tie off his wrist and started tying his curls up into a loose bun.

“Denying the sickness. We’re not on tour anymore, you have literally no commitments. You’re allowed to rest Eddie.”

The man stood up from the stool, hanging his guitar back on the wall and then padding over to the sofa.

Quicker than ever, he twisted away, hovering a bent arm several inches away from his face.

“Eh’TSZziew! T’sSHuhew! i’KSHTzz!”

The (practically uncovered) sneezes sprayed the air in front of him. The balcony window backlighting the spray in a show for Steve.

Eddie snapped back up, turning towards Steve, “whew! Sorry. That was gro-”

Steve had crossed his legs on the couch and flushed in the face. Eddie raised an eyebrow and cheekily put his hands on his hips.

“Color m’be impressed! Even that???”

Steve closed his eyes and nodded, slightly embarrassed to be put on the spot. Eddie’s known about the kink for months now. Eddie has been experimenting with it every now and then - indulging Steve while feeling things out for himself.

Feeling mischievous (and admittedly horny), Eddie flopped face forward onto the couch, resting his head in Steve’s lap. He rubbed the damp tip of his nose into the hip of Steve’s sweatpants.

“I n’deed a tissue.”

Steve looked and saw the box all the way across the room where Eddie was playing guitar earlier.

“I can get them for you, just let me get up…”

“No.” Eddie whined. “Stay.”

He looked up at Steve and winked. Steve, now catching on, made an offer Eddie couldn’t resist.

“Do you wanna… you can use my pants for now.”

Eddie nodded and helped Steve out of the sweatpants, his erect member springing to freedom in his boxers.

“Awwww, for me?” Eddie teased, playfully flicking it and grinning devilishly.

Steve nodded again, rubbing Eddie’s arm that was propping him up.

“Can you help me with a tickle?” Eddie asked, guiding Steve’s hand to the bridge of his nose. “Right here.”

Steve bit his lip and traced the bridge with a slight pressure, gently rolling the tip of Eddie’s nose before moving back up.

His boyfriend’s nostrils flickered, pressing against Steve’s fingertips.

“HAESSH! G’tchIEW! .. h-hh- H’iiTSCH!”

Eddie crumpled forward, sneezing directly onto the tall bulge emerging in Steve’s boxers, spraying it each time.

“Ugh fuck!” Steve moaned, his cock twitching in the familiar rhythm that meant Eddie had done his job.

The rocker looked at the stain on Steve’s underwear and then looked up at him and smirked.

“Looks like we both need those tissues now.”

[infinite-beginnings]

Whumpy Wesper Fics

My collection of Wesper fics so far, filled with angst and some good Wylan whump.

In the Midst of Battle

A Missing scene from 2x08 where Wylan gets hurt during the fight with the Nichevo'ya

Stressed, Pressed, and Sick?

Wylan is working hard to finish a project for Kaz, but can't quite figure out how to make it work. Jesper starts to realize there might be more going on than simple work stress.

Words from the Past

Wylan has a panic attack and Jesper does his very best to help him through it

A Little Love Story of Sorts

Wylan is in the room when it fills with the Datura Meloxia poison and what he sees makes it harder to open up to Jesper about what he is feeling.

Gemstones and Blood

Kaz and Wylan are on a heist together when things quickly go wrong and Wylan gets injured. Kaz does the best he can to help Wylan and get him to safety.

Love like a Bullet

Jesper gets shot during a heist and Wylan has to get him to safety and care for him afterward.

Broken Glass and Shattered Secrets

Post-Canon for the show. Wylans father tries to kill him again.

Bombs and Cheese Sandwiches

An AU where Jesper goes with Kaz when he asks Wylan to build a bomb for him. Wylan hasn't eaten in a while, so Jesper helps him out and gets him some food.

A Dangerous Life

A soulmate AU where you have a meter on your arm that indicates the level of danger your soulmate is in at the moment

There's more to come but feel free to send me any requests that you have!!

[fictional-at-heart]

You’ll Never Be Alone, I Promise You

Fandom: Billy the Kid (2022)

Characters: Billy, Dulcinea

Tags: Sickfic, whump, angst, hurt/comfort-ish

Summary: Billy gets an unexpected visitor one night, which turns out to be a very sick Dulcinea.

Requested by MidnightOcelot on AO3🫶🏻

——————————————————————————

Billy startled as he heard a knock on the door. He quickly grabbed his gun and slowly walked over to the door, making sure it was cocked. It was storming pretty hard, so he found it strange that someone would be knocking this late on a stormy night. Unless Charlie had come to warn him of trouble?

Another knock came again, a little bit harder than the last. Billy reached the window by the door, using his gun to part the curtain slightly. He couldn’t see much through the window, but he was able to make out a feminine figure. He lowered his gun slightly, opening the door a crack. He opened it wider when he saw Dulcinea standing on the porch soaking wet.

“Billy?” she asked quietly. She sounded near tears. “I-I didn’t know who else to go to…”

More on AO3

He pulled her inside quickly, setting his gun aside and shutting the door.

“Dulcinea, what’s wrong?” he asked, holding her arms and looking into her eyes. She swayed slightly with a sniff, then covered her mouth as she coughed. Billy felt the color drain from his face as he realized why she was here.

“M-my family’s out of town,” she started, wiping at her face. “I know I probably should have gone to the doctor, but you were closer…”

She trailed off, her knees buckling slightly. Billy stopped her before she could collapse, scooping her up bridal style and holding her close.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed her, walking to his bedroom. The Regulators were away at the moment, fulfilling an errand for Tunstall. Billy had stayed back, mainly to keep an eye on things while they were gone, but also to just have some free time to himself. He carefully laid her down on his bed as she coughed again. He brought his hand to her cheek.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” he told her. “I’m going to grab some towels so we can dry you off.”

She nodded as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He tried to keep back the panic that was building as he realized she also had a high fever. He came back a few moments later with his arms full of blankets, towels, and a set of clothes. He set them down next to her, grabbing a towel and gently dabbing her face with it.

“D’ya think you can change?” he asked her. “I don’t wanna keep you in these wet clothes, it’ll just make you worse.”

“I can do that,” she replied quietly with a shiver. Billy worked his arm behind her shoulders, gently pulling her up.

“Let’s get you sittin’, ‘kay?” he said, wrapping a towel around her shoulders. “Best I got’re some of my clothes, but I promise they’re clean.”

She laid her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes with a shudder.

“Thank you, Billy,” she whispered. He brought one hand up to her forehead, smoothing back her wet hair, while the other rubbed the towel against her arm.

“I’ll leave you alone for a minute to change,” he said before planting a kiss to the side of her head. “If you feel like you’re gonna pass out, call for me. I’ll be right outside the door.”

She smiled slightly, turning to face him.

“My Billy. Always the gentleman.”

He smiled as he stood up, making sure she was sitting on her own.

“I mean it,” he told her. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

She nodded. “I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

He paused at the door, then left the room, shutting the door behind him. He paced in front of the door as he waited for her to finish changing. He hated sickness. Not that he was scared of getting sick himself; what he hated about it was what it had taken from him in the past. Any time someone he cared about started coughing, he felt a pit of dread settle in his stomach. He ran a hand through his hair as he thought back to before he came to Lincoln County. First Joe. Then Ma. Both to the same sickness. He wasn’t about to lose Dulcinea to sickness, too. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d do everything in his power to keep her here with him.

“Billy?” he heard her call out. “You can come back in.”

He opened the door and entered the room, seeing Dulcinea sitting on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her in his clothes; she was wearing his striped blue and gray shirt, and it was definitely oversized on her. The sleeves came down past her hands, which he found adorable.

“Hey, whadda ya know?” he said, sitting down next to her and pulling her close. “My clothes look better on you than they do me.”

She wrapped her arms around his middle.

“No they don’t,” she replied with a small giggle, hugging him tight. “They’re too big.”

Billy shrugged. “But it’s cute.”

“I had to roll up the pant legs.”

He glanced down at her feet and laughed.

“So ya did. But like I said; they look better on you than they do me.”

He gently laid her back down on the bed, pulling the blankets over her and kissing her forehead.

“I’m gonna go hang up your dress so it’ll dry,” he told her, his hand on her arm. “I’ll be right back, darlin’. Need anything to eat?”

She shook her head, turning on her side and clutching the blankets to her chest. He nodded, pushing aside a wet strand of hair that had fallen onto her cheek. He stood up, grabbing the pile of wet clothes and damp towels and left the room, heading for the fireplace. He pulled a chair from the table over near the fireplace and draped her soaked dress over the back of it. He then went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water before walking back to Dulcinea, bringing a bucket of water as well. He set the glass of water and bucket down on the nightstand, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m gonna give you some water, ‘kay?” He gently stroked the side of her head as she nodded, leaning up on her elbow. “Can’t have you gettin’ dehydrated on me, can I?”

She smiled as she accepted the water from him, taking some sips before handing it back and laying back down.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Billy frowned, putting his hand against her cheek.

“What for, darlin’?”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” she replied with a sniff. “What if I get you sick too?”

Billy shook his head, taking off his boots and carefully settling in next to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as she coughed.

“Don’t you worry ‘bout that,” he told her, rubbing her arm gently. “We’re just gonna worry ‘bout gettin’ you better. When will your family be back?”

She wrapped her arm across his stomach, snuggling her body closer to his and laying her head on his chest. “Not for another couple of days.”

“I’ll have you all better by then,” he said, pushing her hair behind her ear. “I don’t have any medicine here though. Mainly jus’ stuff for injury.”

“That’s okay,” she said quietly, closing her eyes and shivering. Billy frowned as his fingertips brushed her feverishly hot forehead. The fever was what concerned him. Small colds didn’t worry him, but when a fever accompanied them… that’s when he started to feel the same helplessness he felt when Joe and his mother had started to get worse. He reached over with one hand to grab a cloth and dip it into the bucket of water, squeezing out the excess water and placing it on her forehead.

“That feel okay?” he asked. She nodded in response, letting a small sigh escape.

“It feels good,” she told him, leaning her head back slightly to rest on his shoulder. “Has anyone ever told you you’re great at caring for the sick?”

Billy smiled sadly. “I guess I’ve just had lots of practice.”

Dulcinea hummed in response, gripping his shirt slightly with her fingers and snuggling closer to him. He pulled the blanket over her shoulder, then refreshed the cloth on her head. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head and rubbed her arm, hoping that she wouldn’t get worse.

——————————————————————————

The night was a restless one for both of them. Billy tried to keep Dulcinea comfortable as she kept shifting uncomfortably, eventually leaving the bed to refresh the cool water for her. He came back with the water and set it down, walking over to glance out the window. He judged it to be about three in the morning, and the storms had stopped. He opened the window to let some cooler air in, then pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. He gently grabbed Dulcinea’s hand and held on tight, placing a kiss on her knuckles.

“Don’t you leave me too, Dulcinea,” he said quietly, still gripping her hand. She turned her head slightly, a quiet groan escaping her lips as he looked at her sadly.

“I lost too many people I love t’ sickness,” he continued, moving one hand to push her hair off of her face before wiping at his eye. “I couldn’t bear it if I lost you, too. You’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time.”

He leaned his elbows on the bed, holding her hand and letting his head rest on top of their joined hands. He watched as Dulcinea shifted uncomfortably again with a groan, giving her hand a slight squeeze.

——————————————————————————

Billy woke up to feel fingers combing through his hair. He lifted his head in confusion and saw Dulcinea smiling slightly at him, her fingers continuing to massage his scalp. He rubbed at his face as he remembered what happened the night before; he must have fallen asleep sometime in the night, still in the chair with his head on the bed. He sat up and stretched, then reached for Dulcinea’s head.

“Good morning,” she said as he felt her forehead.

“Mornin’,” he replied with a smile. “Your fever’s gone down. Feel any better?”

She shrugged as he moved to sit on the bed next to her. “Not much, if I’m being honest.”

“Did ya sleep at all?” he asked, rubbing her leg through the blankets. “Seemed like you were restless all night.”

“I’m not sure… I think I slept some.”

Billy nodded, still rubbing her leg. “Are ya hungry at all? I can make up some eggs.”

Dulcinea shrugged. “Not really, but I can try.”

He smiled, cupping her cheek before getting up to make breakfast.

“I can go to town and get some medicine today,” he said, standing up. Dulcinea reached out and grabbed his arm.

“No, please don’t,” she pleaded as he looked back at her. “I… I don’t want to be alone,” she added quietly.

Billy leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“I won’t leave ya if you don’t want me to, darlin’,” he told her, stroking her jaw with his thumb. She smiled, leaning into his touch.

“Thank you, Billy,” she replied, looking up at him. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He gave her a smile, grabbing her hand and bringing it up to kiss it.

“Anything you need, I hope you know I’ll always be there,” he told her, standing up and heading for the doorway. He glanced back at her and smiled before heading to the kitchen.

——————————————————————————

Billy turned around from the stove when he heard movement behind him. Dulcinea stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her hand on the doorframe.

“Dulcinea!” Billy said, leaving the eggs on the stove and rushing over to her. One hand went to her waist, the other to her head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking her over worriedly. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

She smiled, leaning her face into his hand.

“I got tired of being alone in there,” she told him, pulling out of his arms and heading for the table. She sat down in one of the chairs. “I wanted to be with you. You said yourself my fever was down.”

He frowned, walking back to the stove so breakfast didn’t burn.

“I said it went down, not that it was gone completely.”

“You don’t need to worry, Billy,” she said softly. He glanced behind his shoulder at her. “I’m fine.”

“I can’t help it. It’s just…” He trailed off, taking the eggs off of the stove and putting them on the table.

“Just what?” Dulcinea asked as he brought over two plates. He sat down next to her, unusually quiet as he filled a plate and handed it to her.

“You can tell me, Billy,” she said, putting her hand over his on the table. She covered her mouth with her other arm and coughed before continuing. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you can.”

Billy looked at her sadly, then sighed, looking down.

“I used to not worry so much about sickness,” he started quietly. “At least not ‘til I lost my little brother and my ma to sickness.”

Dulcinea squeezed his hand, staying quiet so he could continue.

“Since then, if someone I care about gets sick,” he continued, “it makes me think back to losing them, and it makes me worry.”

He looked away with a small sniff, rubbing at his face. Dulcinea rubbed his hand with her thumb, her other hand going to his cheek.

“Oh, Billy… I had no idea, I’m so sorry,” she told him. He looked to her, giving her a small smile.

“‘S alright,” he replied a little sadly. “Can’t be helped. You hungry?”

She nodded and grabbed a fork. “I actually am now, at least a little bit.”

He reached over and felt her face.

“Your fever might be gone now,” he said with a smile, his hand trailing down the side of her face. Dulcinea smirked at him.

“You know, I’m beginning to think that’s an excuse to touch my face,” she told him. He smiled mischievously, pushing her hair behind her ear and cupping her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek.

“I don’t need an excuse to touch your face, darlin’,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. She blushed, looking down at her plate and taking a bite. He turned his attention to his own plate, but gave her a sideways glance. “And I really do mean what I said, by the way. You look better in my clothes.”

“Impossible,” she replied, suppressing a laugh.

——————————————————————————

After Billy had washed the dishes and sent Dulcinea back to bed, much to her protest, he came back into the bedroom where she was sitting up in the bed.

“How’re you feelin’?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“A lot better since the fever broke,” she told him. “I’m just tired.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Billy replied, taking off his boots and getting into bed next to her, patting his shoulder. She smiled and laid down next to him, leaning her head down on his shoulder. He laid his head against hers, pulling the blankets up and tracing lines down her arm. She sighed contentedly, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around him.

“Thank you for taking care of me Billy,” she told him, giving him a slight squeeze. He kissed the top of her head.

“Anything for you, darlin’,” he said as she closed her eyes with a smile, falling asleep to the faint sound of his heartbeat against her ear.

[hehkshew]

HEY THERE! [INTRO POST]

I've seen a lot of blogs with these so I think one's needed? A short spam of words about my account for any newcomers.

I'll definitely be editing this once I start getting used to this whole blog thing but for now some information:

I am 18+ and so is this blog! If you are a minor, please kindly don't interact with it.

My blog is for sickfic content that I wouldn't post elsewhere. A place to share ideas, writing and drawings.

Before I get onto Fandom's and other things such as that, I only have two rules:

Reblogging and commenting on my posts is absolutely fine! I actually really enjoy reading what people leave in the tags

Shipping hate is not tolerated here! This part of the internet is already niche enough as is, and we don't need that here.

With that out of the way here's some navigation for you:

My Writing is under the #my fic tag!

My Artwork is under the #my art tag!

What I'll write/draw:

Sneeze content

Emeto

Illness

Any other sickfic things

(Whichever I write/draw for will be tagged correctly so you're able to mute the tag if that's something you don't want to see.)

The only thing I won't write or draw is Scat, Omorashi or Age Play/Regression. You're free to request anything else.

Fandoms I'll write/draw for:

H/azbin Hotel

- If you’re interested in requesting or suggesting a ship involving Angel and Alastor, I’ll prefer only to be doing those if it’s R/adiodust. It’s just the dynamic I enjoy working with the most!

I'm open to other ships and don't mind drawing/writing them. But please respect mine!

Requests for drawings/writing are ALWAYS open!

(And with that, on a final note I'm fully down to do art trades with other sickfic freaks!)