ffeverishh

[ffeverishh]

i just found your blog so sorry if i missed anything obvious- i was wondering if you wrote any fics where someone has the kink?

btw i was so shocked to see s/unny content!!!! Im a HUGE fan of the show!

hello! i have not been active in so long lol dw

i havent! sickness just happens to be my favorite type of whump / im pretty indifferent to it as a kink personally, but that’s not to say id never write it!!

also yes lol i am a big macdennis shipper

[ffeverishh]

~ Whumtober Sickfic Prompts ~

Thought I’d make this as an alternative prompt list for anyone who wanted to participate in whumptober but who’s not as keen on writing pure whump. Obviously this is not a replacement for whumptober, and I would never encourage you to pick one or the other. I had attempted to do the prompts like the original whumptober account, and give people ideas, but it was faring harder than I expected, so I apologize, and you’re always welcome to send me an ask to get some ideas if you’d like! 

I hope everyone enjoys! 

Day 1: Autumn 

Day 2: Cough 

Day 3: Blankets . 

Day 4: Headache

Day 5: Couch

Day 6: Overheating

Day 7: Break 

Day 8: Hospital

Day 9: Belly Ache 

Day 10: Tissues

Day 11: Thermometer

Day 12: Strep Throat 

Day 13: Motion Sick / Air Sick / Car Sick 

Day 14: Popsicles 

Day 15: Bath 

Day 16: Comfort Food 

Day 17: Dizzy 

Day 18: Cold 

Day 19: Heat/Ice Pack 

Day 20: Sniffles 

Day 21: Airport 

Day 22: Exhaustion

Day 23: Shiver

Day 24: Flushed 

Day 25: Cranky

Day 26: Faint 

Day 27: Flu 

Day 28: Concussion 

Day 29: Allergy 

Day 30: Mono 

Day 31: Halloween 

[ffeverishh]

“This is the third time I’ve had to put you back in the bed. Why the heck do you want to lie on the floor so bad?” and/or “I know you’re cold but that blanket is gross now; you need a clean one.” (MacDennis w/ Den being sick please)

i went with the former. thank you!!! sorry this took so long i am awful at writing in a timely fashion!!

.

“Oh, Jesus, Den,” he mutters, lowering to his knees. He grabs Dennis gingerly under the armpits and hoists him up. Dennis braces himself on the edge of the bed and groans.

“This is the third time I’ve had to put you back in the bed,” Mac chastises. “Why the hell do you want to lie on the floor so bad?”

Dennis coughs harshly, head turned into his shoulder. “Had to use the bathroom. Thought I could handle it, but I got dizzy.”

“Call for my help next time,” Mac says, offering out his arm. Dennis grabs onto it, pulling himself up slowly. Mac rests his other hand on Dennis’ back, supporting him as he stumbles.

They make it halfway to the bathroom before Dennis leans dangerously toward the ground. “Couch,” he rasps out. Mac responds immediately and helps him to sit down. He’s breathing heavily, much too heavily for Mac’s liking. “God, I can’t - “

“Just take a minute, Den,” Mac says, rubbing a hand across Dennis’ shoulder blades as he settles on the couch next to him.

Dennis abruptly coughs into his fist, deep and sharp. It takes him another full minute to find his breath again, and he whimpers. “My chest hurts really bad.” He leans a fevered forehead against Mac’s bicep.

Mac frowns. “That worries me, Den.” He splays his fingers against Dennis’ back, right behind his lungs. “Just sit tight for a second and breathe.” Dennis does so, and Mac can hear the way his breath rattles in his chest, thick with mucus and strained. “I think we should see a doctor,” he murmurs.

Dennis moans, unmoving. “Maybe we should. I feel awful.” Mac notes the beads of sweat stuck to his temple. His fever must be getting high again.

“Let’s get you to the bathroom first. And take another round of medicine.”

“Don’t wanna move,” Dennis croaks, voice stuck in his swollen throat.

“I’ll help you,” Mac promises.

Dennis sighs heavily as Mac stands up, reaching out his arms for Dennis to latch onto. It takes just as much energy for Dennis to make it to the bathroom as it took for him to go from the bedroom to the couch. He all but collapses on the toilet, desperate for air.

While he’s busy, Mac collects a round of acetaminophen and cough syrup. Dennis dutifully swallows both before getting up and washing his hands. Mac keeps a steady hand on his back the entire time.

Dennis’ eyes flutter as he stumbles backward into Mac. Mac catches him, saying, “Easy, easy, Den.”

“Tired, Mac,” Dennis mumbles.

He should be, Mac remembers. He had only just fallen asleep when he got up to pee. The day had been filled with restlessness prior to that, brought on by the incessant coughing and discomfort of fever.

“Bed, then,” Mac says, leading Dennis out of the bathroom. “Doctor tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Dennis agrees, allowing his head to droop against Mac’s shoulder as they walk. They have to stop once more at the couch, Dennis’ limo fingers wrapped in Mac’s T-shirt. Before he stands up again, he launches into a bought of dry, violent coughing.

Mac rubs his back and frowns. “Do you think a humidifier would help with that?”

Dennis only groans, forehead falling against Mac’s chest.

“Alright. I’m getting you back to bed and then I’m finding the humidifier.”

Dennis hangs tightly to Mac’s arms as he hoists himself up. He wobbled dangerously and nearly pitches to the ground five times before the two of them stumble to the bed. Dennis crawls in slowly, moaning in pain when he collapses against the pillows.

“I’ll be right back, okay Den?” Mac says, turning.

Dennis throws out an arm, his fingers gently scraping Mac’s wrist. “Wait,” he whispers.

Mac freezes, head tilted to look at him with worry. “What’s wrong, Dennis?”

“Stay,” Dennis croaks.

Mac sighs heavily. “Dennis, I gotta clean, bud. Our apartment is a mess.”

Dennis coughs harshly again, body curling in on itself in a desperate attempt to draw air.

“Don’t leave.”

Mac reaches his fingers around to squeeze Dennis’ hand. “At least let me get the humidifier. You sound like a tuba.”

Dennis’ hand goes limp. “Okay,” he says.

Mac fluffs up the pillow behind Dennis before he departs, heading for their front closet. Dennis’ coughing follows him there, and Mac winces every time another one sounds. Back behind old pairs of shoes and discarded holiday decorations, Mac finds their small, portable humidifier. The thing’s ancient, but it still works.

Listening for any noise of distress from Dennis, Mac hauls the small appliance out to the kitchen. He pulls the tank out and fills it with the recommended amount of water. He’ll have to set a reminder on his own to refill it when it’s gone.

Careful not to spill any water onto the floor, Mac heads back to their bedroom. He keeps his eyes on his feet, too worried about tripping to risk it. Once inside, he plugs the humidifier into the wall. He turns it up to the highest setting , keenly aware of how awful Dennis sounds.

“Alright, Den,” he says, looking down at his handiwork. “This should help loosen up your chest and get you to cough everything up, so start using tissues.

“Den?” Mac asks. He turns to see Dennis comfortably asleep, head lolling slightly to the right in his elevated position.

Mac smiles to himself. Even when he looks like a train wreck, Dennis is still adorable. As silently as possible, Mac steps to the door.

“Sleep well, Den,” he says, before pulling the door closed.

[ffeverishh]

I love your fics! You are very talented and grasp Mac and Dennis' characters perfectly! Any chance we could get more of your writing? No rush. Just curious because I'm in love with these! Thanks! 😊

well i have two more prompts in my inbox and i hope to get to them faster than the last! thank you so much, darling <3

[ffeverishh]

Tight/aching chest for macdennis please! Preferably Dennis is the one who's sick

i included this as part of the fic i just posted! thank you!

[ffeverishh]

“This is the third time I’ve had to put you back in the bed. Why the heck do you want to lie on the floor so bad?” and/or “I know you’re cold but that blanket is gross now; you need a clean one.” (MacDennis w/ Den being sick please)

i went with the former. thank you!!! sorry this took so long i am awful at writing in a timely fashion!!

.

“Oh, Jesus, Den,” he mutters, lowering to his knees. He grabs Dennis gingerly under the armpits and hoists him up. Dennis braces himself on the edge of the bed and groans.

“This is the third time I’ve had to put you back in the bed,” Mac chastises. “Why the hell do you want to lie on the floor so bad?”

Dennis coughs harshly, head turned into his shoulder. “Had to use the bathroom. Thought I could handle it, but I got dizzy.”

“Call for my help next time,” Mac says, offering out his arm. Dennis grabs onto it, pulling himself up slowly. Mac rests his other hand on Dennis’ back, supporting him as he stumbles.

They make it halfway to the bathroom before Dennis leans dangerously toward the ground. “Couch,” he rasps out. Mac responds immediately and helps him to sit down. He’s breathing heavily, much too heavily for Mac’s liking. “God, I can’t - “

“Just take a minute, Den,” Mac says, rubbing a hand across Dennis’ shoulder blades as he settles on the couch next to him.

Dennis abruptly coughs into his fist, deep and sharp. It takes him another full minute to find his breath again, and he whimpers. “My chest hurts really bad.” He leans a fevered forehead against Mac’s bicep.

Mac frowns. “That worries me, Den.” He splays his fingers against Dennis’ back, right behind his lungs. “Just sit tight for a second and breathe.” Dennis does so, and Mac can hear the way his breath rattles in his chest, thick with mucus and strained. “I think we should see a doctor,” he murmurs.

Dennis moans, unmoving. “Maybe we should. I feel awful.” Mac notes the beads of sweat stuck to his temple. His fever must be getting high again.

“Let’s get you to the bathroom first. And take another round of medicine.”

“Don’t wanna move,” Dennis croaks, voice stuck in his swollen throat.

“I’ll help you,” Mac promises.

Dennis sighs heavily as Mac stands up, reaching out his arms for Dennis to latch onto. It takes just as much energy for Dennis to make it to the bathroom as it took for him to go from the bedroom to the couch. He all but collapses on the toilet, desperate for air.

While he’s busy, Mac collects a round of acetaminophen and cough syrup. Dennis dutifully swallows both before getting up and washing his hands. Mac keeps a steady hand on his back the entire time.

Dennis’ eyes flutter as he stumbles backward into Mac. Mac catches him, saying, “Easy, easy, Den.”

“Tired, Mac,” Dennis mumbles.

He should be, Mac remembers. He had only just fallen asleep when he got up to pee. The day had been filled with restlessness prior to that, brought on by the incessant coughing and discomfort of fever.

“Bed, then,” Mac says, leading Dennis out of the bathroom. “Doctor tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Dennis agrees, allowing his head to droop against Mac’s shoulder as they walk. They have to stop once more at the couch, Dennis’ limo fingers wrapped in Mac’s T-shirt. Before he stands up again, he launches into a bought of dry, violent coughing.

Mac rubs his back and frowns. “Do you think a humidifier would help with that?”

Dennis only groans, forehead falling against Mac’s chest.

“Alright. I’m getting you back to bed and then I’m finding the humidifier.”

Dennis hangs tightly to Mac’s arms as he hoists himself up. He wobbled dangerously and nearly pitches to the ground five times before the two of them stumble to the bed. Dennis crawls in slowly, moaning in pain when he collapses against the pillows.

“I’ll be right back, okay Den?” Mac says, turning.

Dennis throws out an arm, his fingers gently scraping Mac’s wrist. “Wait,” he whispers.

Mac freezes, head tilted to look at him with worry. “What’s wrong, Dennis?”

“Stay,” Dennis croaks.

Mac sighs heavily. “Dennis, I gotta clean, bud. Our apartment is a mess.”

Dennis coughs harshly again, body curling in on itself in a desperate attempt to draw air.

“Don’t leave.”

Mac reaches his fingers around to squeeze Dennis’ hand. “At least let me get the humidifier. You sound like a tuba.”

Dennis’ hand goes limp. “Okay,” he says.

Mac fluffs up the pillow behind Dennis before he departs, heading for their front closet. Dennis’ coughing follows him there, and Mac winces every time another one sounds. Back behind old pairs of shoes and discarded holiday decorations, Mac finds their small, portable humidifier. The thing’s ancient, but it still works.

Listening for any noise of distress from Dennis, Mac hauls the small appliance out to the kitchen. He pulls the tank out and fills it with the recommended amount of water. He’ll have to set a reminder on his own to refill it when it’s gone.

Careful not to spill any water onto the floor, Mac heads back to their bedroom. He keeps his eyes on his feet, too worried about tripping to risk it. Once inside, he plugs the humidifier into the wall. He turns it up to the highest setting , keenly aware of how awful Dennis sounds.

“Alright, Den,” he says, looking down at his handiwork. “This should help loosen up your chest and get you to cough everything up, so start using tissues.

“Den?” Mac asks. He turns to see Dennis comfortably asleep, head lolling slightly to the right in his elevated position.

Mac smiles to himself. Even when he looks like a train wreck, Dennis is still adorable. As silently as possible, Mac steps to the door.

“Sleep well, Den,” he says, before pulling the door closed.

[ffeverishh]

Hi! I was wondering if you are still taking MacDennis requests? I would love to read more from you! Thanks!

i am im just really bad at writing im s orry

[ffeverishh]

Exhaustion for macdennis?

warnings: talk of self-harm, suicidal ideation

.

Dennis hasn’t been sleeping.

He doesn’t tell Mac that he’s having nightmares but Mac knows. They aren’t like normal nightmares. It’s graphic, self-mutilating shit. Sometimes it’s fatal. Sometimes it’s not. Either way, Dennis wakes up sweating and nauseous and stares at the ceiling til the sun rises. Mac tries to comfort him but he pulls away.

It’s not just the lack of sleep that gets to him either. The nature of the dreams follows Dennis throughout the day. Mac catches him scratching at his skin until it’s raw and staring at knives and razors with a look of longing. Dennis won’t ever say he’s suicidal, but Mac won’t take chances.

It’s been a week so far.

Dennis has deep, deep bags under his eyes, which are already red-rimmed and bruised. He’s pale and deflated and his lack of energy has become an elephant in the room. Mac makes sure the pills disappear from his dispenser every day, but sometimes that isn’t enough. Dennis has a nightmare protocol that his therapist taught him, but Mac doesn’t know whether he’s utilizing it or not. He doesn’t push. Dennis is too dangerously volatile.

This morning, Mac pushes a plate of eggs in front of Dennis while he sips on coffee.

“’M not hungry.”

Mac tenses. Dennis’ ED symptoms always get worse when his nightmares are frequent.

“If you keep drinking coffee on an empty stomach you’re gonna get gut rot. Caffeine won’t work if you just puke it up.”

Dennis sighs heavily behind his back, but Mac smirks when he hears the scraping of the fork against the plate.

At the bar, Dennis locks himself in the back office. The gang knows that means not to bother him, that he’s having a bad day, but leaving him alone always makes Mac uneasy. There’s no telling what will happen behind that door, whether it’s Dennis huffing turpentine, drinking until he blacks out, or cutting up and down his arm until all his skin is red.

Mac takes a swig of beer and looks wordlessly at Charlie and Dee. Dennis’ imminent breakdown is heavy in the room.

“He not sleeping again?” Dee asks.

It’s times like these, with the threat of Dennis’ self-demise that the more caring nature of each member of the gang comes out.

“No,” Mac confirms, before taking another drink.

“When do you think he’ll give in?”

“No idea.”

It’s a different kind of self-destruction today. After a few hours, Mac takes his chances and goes into the office. Dennis is there, poring over the books and downing coffee. There are several used K-cups in the trash.

“Den?” Mac asks.

“What?” he snaps.

“Charlie and I are going down to Wawa to get some sandwiches. You want one?”

“No.”

“Dennis.”

“What?” he barks, finally looking up.

“You should eat,” Mac presses.

Dennis stares him down for all of five seconds before sighing. “Fine. But I don’t want a sandwich. Just get me a fruit cup or something.”

Mac takes the little victories. Dennis eats his fruit and he comes out of the office for awhile. It’s good, even if he spends most of the conversation inside his own head. He keeps drinking coffee, fighting the jerks of the head that want him to nod off.

Somehow, by the grace of God, Mac convinces Dennis to go home early. It’s only seven, but he’s clearly exhausted. He hasn’t slept in almost eight days.

He teeters on his feet, stumbling unceremoniously to the couch. He closes his eyes for merely a second before prying them open again.

“Dennis,” Mac says softly.

“Hmm?” Dennis responds.

Mac sits down next to him, rests a hand on his forearm. “You need to sleep. You’re shaking.”

Dennis makes a noise of disagreement. “I can’t. I can’t - every time I close my eyes, I - ”

He shifts the arm under Mac’s fingers and grabs Mac’s wrist. Mac holds his hand tightly, squeezing it in a way that says he understands.

“I know,” Mac says. “I know.”

His other hand moves slowly to Dennis’ cheek. With great effort, Dennis opens his eyes, red and glassy.

“You need rest. You’re exhausted.” He presses a hand to Dennis’ clammy forehead.

“I can’t,” he whispers.

“Take Benadryl, NyQuil - something that’ll make you sleep without dreaming. You literally feel feverish, Den. Your body can’t handle this.”

“Mac - “

“Let me get you something to make you sleep, okay?” He makes to move, but Dennis tightens his grip on Mac’s wrist.

“Stay.”

“Den?”

“Just stay. Don’t - don’t leave, and I’ll be fine.”

He moves, lowers himself down onto his side. His head comes to a rest in Mac’s lap. Within five minutes, he’s fast asleep, and Mac plays selfishly with his hair.

[ffeverishh]

Anonymous said: Could you please write more macdennis? But with Dennis taking care of Mac with a cold?

.

Dennis returns after a morning liquor run to find their apartment dark and quiet.  Usually Mac is up by now, preparing some kind of breakfast so Dennis doesn’t ‘forget’ to eat.  Dennis sets the paper bags down on the table and calls out, “Mac?”  

There’s no response.  Dennis doubts he would have left without texting or calling first.  A little blossom of concern bubbles inside his chest, along with a humble amount of irritation.  He isn’t Mac’s keeper.  With a sigh, he crosses the apartment and heads into their bedroom.

Keep reading

[ffeverishh]

Anonymous said: Could you please write more macdennis? But with Dennis taking care of Mac with a cold?

.

Dennis returns after a morning liquor run to find their apartment dark and quiet.  Usually Mac is up by now, preparing some kind of breakfast so Dennis doesn’t ‘forget’ to eat.  Dennis sets the paper bags down on the table and calls out, “Mac?”  

There’s no response.  Dennis doubts he would have left without texting or calling first.  A little blossom of concern bubbles inside his chest, along with a humble amount of irritation.  He isn’t Mac’s keeper.  With a sigh, he crosses the apartment and heads into their bedroom.

Mac is still in bed, snoring softly.

Dennis’ irritation subsides as he sees Mac curled up, hair flopped over his forehead.  He feels something akin to fondness.

“Mac,” he says quietly, walking to their bed.  “Mac, wake up.”  He lays a hand on Mac’s shoulder and pulls.  Mac rolls over with grumble.

“Let me sleep, Den,” he says, voice thick.

“It’s past noon,” Dennis says.  

Mac cracks one eye open, “Shit, really?”  He pushes himself up slowly, wincing.  He attempts to clear his throat but is immediately overwhelmed by a fit of coughing.  Dennis moves forward on instinct, arms coming to wrap around Mac.

“Jesus, you okay?” he asks when Mac is finished.

Mac sniffs, and it crackles with congestion.  “Oh, shit,” he mutters.  “God - I feel awful.”  He coughs again.

Dennis automatically presses a hand against Mac’s forehead.  “Hmm, you feel a little warm.  Not dangerously warm, though.”

Mac sneezes.  “Probably caught a cold.”

“Here,” Dennis says, standing up.  “Stay in bed.  I’m gonna grab the whiskey I bought and some cold medicine.”

Mac collapses back onto his pillows with a small groan.  He succumbs to heavy coughing several times while Dennis navigates the kitchen and bathroom.  When he returns to their bedroom, Mac is curled on his side, sniffling over and over against the wall of congestion in his sinuses.  He rolls over when he hears Dennis’ footsteps, looking up with red, glassy eyes.

Dennis cracks a half-smile.  “You look like shit, man.”

Mac coughs deeply.  “Thanks, asshole.”

Dennis offers him a bottle of DayQuil.  Mac accepts it, grunting as he pulls himself into a position upward enough to swallow it down.  He pours himself a dose and tosses it back, grimacing at the terrible taste.  Dennis sets down two glasses and the bottle of whiskey on the nightstand.

Mac takes a deep, labored breath.  “God, that has never looked more appealing.”

Dennis pours him a drink first, handing it off before making his own.

“Mmm,” Mac moans.  “Dennis - do you mind - ?”

Dennis looks up.  “What do you need, man?”

“Painkillers,” Mac rasps.  “I can feel a killer headache coming on.”

“On it, buddy,” Dennis says, abandoning his whiskey and heading back to the bathroom.  While he’s out of the bedroom, he grabs the day’s newspaper from the coffee table.

“Thanks, Den,” Mac says when Dennis returns.  As he pours himself two pills, Dennis swipes up his whiskey and crawls into his side of the bed.  Mac looks over, surprised.  “What are you doing?”

“You’re mixing a lot of drugs there, bro.  I gotta make sure you don’t stop breathing.”

Mac blushes, his cheeks now the color of his nose.  Dennis smirks, amused by the sight.

“You’re fucking sap, you know that?” 

Dennis scoffs.  “This isn’t the first, nor the last time I’m gonna take care of you, dumbass.”

Mac just hums in response, rolling over again and facing Dennis.  He watches as Dennis opens up the newspaper and begins reading.

“Go to sleep,” Dennis mutters.  

Mac closes his eyes.  “Mind your own business,” he mumbles.

He drifts off fairly quickly, and when he wakes up again, for only a moment, Dennis has nodded off too, coincidentally big spooning Mac from the front.   Mac scoots closer, cuddling against Dennis’ chest.  He might feel like absolute shit, but he can’t really be bothered when he gets to take advantage of Dennis’ walls being down.  As he falls asleep he again, he hums to himself softly, listening to the sound of Dennis’ breath against the top of his head.

[ffeverishh]

Bless You - (character) has a particularly sneezy cold, and may or may not be able to retreat from life to deal with it. + macdennis

This is probably the fifth layer of foundation that Dennis has dabbed on his nose, and it still looks irritated and red. He gives up. As he’s reaching for the setting powder, he sneezes again, filling his upper lip with snot. He reaches for the toilet paper, hissing, “Gross.” The following attempt to blow his nose is futile. He’s had this cold for a few days now, and he has remained stubbornly stuffed up.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door, followed by Mac shouting, “Dude, you ready yet?”

Dennis surveys his appearance: obnoxiously red nose, pale face only marginally made better by makeup, dark under-eye shadows. He looks like shit. But it’s their monthly dinner, and Mac has been putting up with Dennis’ pouting, cold-ridden ass, and he deserves a nice bottle of wine.

Keep reading

[ffeverishh]

Bless You - (character) has a particularly sneezy cold, and may or may not be able to retreat from life to deal with it. + macdennis

This is probably the fifth layer of foundation that Dennis has dabbed on his nose, and it still looks irritated and red. He gives up. As he’s reaching for the setting powder, he sneezes again, filling his upper lip with snot. He reaches for the toilet paper, hissing, “Gross.” The following attempt to blow his nose is futile. He’s had this cold for a few days now, and he has remained stubbornly stuffed up.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door, followed by Mac shouting, “Dude, you ready yet?”

Dennis surveys his appearance: obnoxiously red nose, pale face only marginally made better by makeup, dark under-eye shadows. He looks like shit. But it’s their monthly dinner, and Mac has been putting up with Dennis’ pouting, cold-ridden ass, and he deserves a nice bottle of wine.

“Yeah, just a second,” Dennis calls back, wincing at the sound of his voice. He sounds like he swallowed a foghorn.

When he exits the bathroom, Mac looks him over with a frown. “You don’t look so good, Den. I told you. We can postpone dinner til next weekend.”

“I’m fine,” Dennis insists. “I took some cold medicine. It’ll be alright.” He punctuates his sentence with another violent sneeze.

“Dennis - ”

He stalks past Mac toward the front door. “Let’s go.”

Mac rolls his eyes, but follows obediently after Dennis. They head downstairs and out to the Range Rover. Mac is a little wary about letting Dennis drive when he’s sneezing every two seconds, but he knows not to argue. If Dennis rear-ends someone because he can’t even keep his eyes open, then they’ll just cross that bridge when they get there.

Whatever cold medicine Dennis took doesn’t seem to be working yet by the time they arrive at Guigino’s. In fact, Dennis has opted for just keeping his pocket hanky in his hand instead of shoved haphazardly in his jacket pocket, where he’ll no doubt be reaching for it again in a matter of seconds. Mac feels a pang of sympathy. Dennis’ cold is growing worse by the minute, but the stubborn bastard seems hellbent on powering through it.

They’re seated at a table along the edge of the room; probably because several people have already shot Dennis disgusted looks. Mac would have to agree with them. Dennis looks horrible. They sit down, and Dennis almost sighs with relief.

As if the world weren’t already against Dennis, their favorite waiter is working tonight. He approaches their table with a curled lip, eyeing Dennis with disdain. Dennis sniffs firmly.

“Gentlemen,” the waiter says, curtly.

“Waiter,” Dennis replies, but it doesn’t help their case that his voice sounds wretched.

The waiter hands them both a menu. Dennis snaps his out of his hand.

“Can I offer you anything to drink?”

“Water,” Mac says immediately, thinking ahead.

Dennis shoots him a questioning look before saying, “A bottle of your most expensive red, sir.”

“Of course,” the waiter says. “I’ll give you a moment with the menus.”

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Dennis let’s out a string of sneezes, followed by an, “Ugh.” He wipes his nose as gently as possible when it starts running, wincing when the prodding hurts his already raw skin.

“Make sure you drink your water,” Mac nags. “You’re already dehydrated. You’ll just get sicker.”

Dennis rolls his eyes as he looks down at the menu. Truthfully, he’s not even hungry. He’s actually slightly nauseous, but he doesn’t want to put a damper on the evening, so he looks for something plain and easy to keep down. He becomes so engrossed in the menu that he doesn’t even notice Mac talking to him.

“Dennis? Dennis?”

He looks up, and Mac is staring at him expectantly. He stares back, completely unaware of what he’s supposed to say.

“Sorry,” after a moment. “I completely blanked out for a second.”

Mac sighs, but he doesn’t look upset. Actually, he looks kind of worried. “Dude, do you just wanna go back home? I think you’ve gotten paler since we left the apartment.”

Dennis shakes his head. “It’s just the difference in lighting, Mac. I’m fine.”

The truth is he’s starting to get a nasty headache along with a sore feeling in his entire body. A shiver ripples through him. Shit. He doesn’t feel good at all. Despite his resilience, he lets out a small noise of discomfort.

Mac looks up at him with wide eyes. “Den.”

He sniffles. “What, Mac?” He can feel his nose running again. It’s almost nonstop. As surreptitiously as he can, he fixates his hanky underneath his nostrils.

“Den, I know it’s our first monthly dinner as an official couple, but I can tell you feel like shit, man.”

Dennis stares at him for a minute, clinging to the desire to fight it. But another sneeze wins out and he groans. “You wouldn’t be upset if I asked to postpone?”

Mac reaches across the table to grab Dennis’ free hand; the one that isn’t holding a snotty piece of fabric.

“No, dude. I would actually feel better if you were laid up on the couch right now, watching a shitty movie with me and sharing a couple pizzas.”

Dennis smiles. “I’m gonna have to pass on the pizza. I’ve swallowed enough snot in the past half hour to fill me up.”

“Dude, gross,” Mac says, but he smiles too. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Dennis follows after him, handing over the Range Rover keys. As soon as they get home, Dennis changes into pajamas, wraps himself in a comforter, and settles into the couch with a copy of The Godfather.

Mac enters from the kitchen saying, “Pizza should be here in a half hour.” He snuggles up next to Dennis and presses a kiss against his cheek. “Hm.” He touches the back of his hand to Dennis’ forehead. “You feel a little warm.”

Dennis rests his head against Mac’s shoulder, batting his hand away. “I’ll be fine. Just a cold.”

Mac wraps his arm around Dennis’ shoulders. “I’ll make sure you don’t die, man.”

Dennis snorts. “Appreciate it.”

.

In the morning, Dennis wakes up with significantly less pressure in his sinuses. Mac is already awake beside him, and Dennis looks up with excitement, propping himself up on his elbow. He sniffs, and is actually able to breathe.

“Dude, my nose is clear.”

He’s shaken almost immediately by a series of deep, rattling coughs.

Mac grimaces. “Sounds like everything just moved to your chest.”

Dennis groans and flops back down against his pillows. Mac, the bastard, laughs.

[ffeverishh]

send me a symptom/illness and a character (+ pairing)

•fever + chills •fever + body aches/aching eyes •fever + deliriousness •fever + restlessness •fever + emotional •immovable congestion •tight/aching chest •constantly running nose •dry, tight cough •deep, hacking cough •half-assed cough bc character is so weak •broken fever sweats •sinus headache •nausea that leads to nothing •dizziness •sore throat that feels bruisy •sore throat that feels scratchy •sore throat that feels like it's engulfed in flames •swollen lymph nodes •sneezes that trigger coughs and vice vera •exhaustion •heavy limbs •head cold •chest cold •flu •pneumonia •bronchitis •strep throat •croup/whooping cough •sinus infection •mono •meningitis

[ffeverishh]

whoops my ask wasn't open pls send me prompts now

[ffeverishh]

Sick Prompts/Starters

“Oookay, you sure are delirious.”

“Just can’t shake that cough, huh?”

“Your complexion is scaring me, please sit down.”

“No, no, don’t throw up in that!”

“You’ve kept that cough through two colds and it sounds like you’re on your third.”

“Don’t you hide that thermometer from me!”

“Put your arm around my— Or just fall on me, that works too.”

“How much of that medicine did you take?”

“This is why we use tissues.”

“As much as I want you to rest right now, it’s freaking me out that I can hold you down this easily.”

“You wanna walk by yourself? Alright, let’s see that.”

“When you said you were sick I thought you meant a cold, not the freaking plague!”

“Why do you only want to wax the floor when you’re sick?”

“Mm…I don’t think it’s just the sniffles this time.”

“Please stop wasting what’s left of your voice on complaints about soup you can’t even taste.”

“I can tell you’re sicker than you’re letting on.”

“This is the third time I’ve had to put you back in the bed. Why the heck do you want to lie on the floor so bad?”

“You passed out at the pharmacy.”

“I know you’re cold but that blanket is gross now, you need a clean one.”

[ffeverishh]

Cute Sickfic Things

• I’m all for characters at their worst, but can we talk about Character A walking in on Character B wearing their sweater, eyes glassy and nose red

• When the Character B is wearing a hoodie pulled low over their face and hands in sweater paws, wiping their nose pathetically yet so adorably

• Character A walks in with a “Honey, I’m home” only to be greeted by Character B wrapped up like a burrito, blanket trailing forlornly on the floor

• Character B is so cold and feverish, and the loving Character A stays up all night cuddling with them, making herbal tea and giving medicine until they fall asleep

• When Character B is feeling extremely weak and reaches their arms out to Character A to please carry them because they don’t have the strength

• When Character B whines and Character A shoves them away until they realise that Character B never complains unless they’re sick and immediately begins to look after them

• Character B is feverish and can’t sleep, but Character A runs a cool hand through sweaty hair and hums a lullaby until they fall asleep

• Character B is just recovering from the vomiting bug and is so weak so Character A spoon feeds them food and helps them drink water

• Fevers make Character B hyper, so Character A gently traps them on their lap and hushes them until they fall asleep, back pressed to Character A’s chest

• Character A’s wonderfully cool fingers brushing against Character B’s sweaty, hot forehead and them leaning towards the cool hand

• Stubborn Character B finally finishes that essay and Character A wraps them in a blanket and drags them to the couch to care for them

[ffeverishh]

Sickness Sentence Starters

“The doctor said to get plenty of bed rest.” “Did you take your medicine?” “You’re burning up!” “Do you want me to get you another blanket?” “If you’re not better by tomorrow, we’re going to the hospital.” “You’ve been sniffling for ten minutes. Just blow your nose!” “Let me feel your forehead.” “You just need to sleep this off.” “You can’t go out like this!” “Come on, you need to eat.” “Do you want me to make you some chicken soup?” “Maybe some steam will clear you up.” “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.” “I don’t think it’s allergies.” “Did you eat something weird?”