#symptom: persistent sore throat

[avvidstarion]

Just realized that since my roommate doesn’t wear masks she could at any time give me Covid

[soath]

Apropos of absolutely nothing at all, oral and throat cancers from HPV don’t only occur in guys; anyone who engages in oral sex should be on the lookout for them! Symptoms include sudden loss of taste, swelling, numbness, a persistent sore throat, and pain. HPV can also cause cancers of the phallus, vulva, and anus. Because it’s a viral related cancer it can be especially dangerous for those with immune conditions, including HIV or some autoimmune diseases treated with immunosuppressants.

However the HPV vaccine is effective at preventing all of these cancers. In countries with high uptake many forms of cervical cancers have vanished among young people. The vaccine is most effective for younger children between 10-13 so if you have kids, siblings, nieces or nephews, push for them to get it! It’s also now recommended for adults up to middle aged. Even if you’ve already contracted one HPV strain, the vaccine may still be helpful. Although there’s increasing evidence of efficacy at just one dose, it’s most effective if you get all three in the series so don’t wait.

And if you’re eligible for Pap smears, get them. They might not be comfortable but they are one of the most effective medical tests invented in the twentieth century.

[hearts-hunger]

january blue || josh kiszka x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Cabin Fever Masterlist

Summary: You're sick, and Josh takes good care of you.

Pairings: Josh x Reader | Genre: fluff, h/c, sickfic | Word Count: 2k | Warnings: none!

A/N: Here's another one of those self-serving fics that I hope you like :) Also this is lowkey an ad for Netflix's “The Greatest Night in Pop” because that was a great documentary. Anyhoopla I hope you like it! ♡

“Sweet baby, when is your birthday again?”

You pulled your blank gaze from the waiting room wall, frowning a little as you looked over at Josh. It took you a second to think of a response; the fluorescents overhead were harsh, and everything seemed unnaturally bright under them. Josh held the pen poised and ready above the intake form, waiting for you to tell him your birthdate.

The uncomfortable vinyl chair creaked when you turned towards him. “You don't know my birthday?” you asked, unsure if you should be surprised by that. You were surprised, but you were also rather disoriented, so maybe it was a normal question for an attentive boyfriend to ask.

He cracked a smile, a welcome bit of tenderness in the cold, stark doctor’s office. 

“I do,” he said. “I was only teasing.” He jotted it down along with your other details, taking care of the task for you as you sat in the waiting room together. It was sweet of him to do it and try to take your mind off things while he did, and it made the appointment seem a little less daunting.

“What are your symptoms?” he asked, writing down the ones he already knew. “Earache, sore throat, congestion?”

You nodded, covering your ear with your hand, careful of pressing too hard. “Dizziness, too. And a headache.”

“My poor baby,” he said sympathetically. He finished up the intake form. “Okay, honey. You’re all set.” He returned the clipboard to the front desk, taking your hand when he came back to sit next to you.

“What do you think?” he asked. His hair was a golden halo of soft curls, and it didn’t surprise you that even the awful atmosphere of the doctor’s office didn’t dim his warmth and cheerfulness. “Do you wanna read one of these magazines that have been here since the eighties? There’s probably some older ones if that sounds too modern.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I’m okay, thanks.”

He smiled. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

He pulled out his phone to answer a text from Danny; you rested your head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the persistent ache and the vaguely panicky feeling you always got at the doctor. 

Josh gave you a quick smooch on your forehead. You smiled.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“Danny said to give you a get-well kiss,” he said. “So there you go.”

You cuddled closer to him. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course, baby.” He pocketed his phone. “Thanks for asking me. I would have been sad to find out you went without me.”

You raised your head to look at him, a bemused smile crossing your face. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I know you don’t like the doctor, and I like to be with you for things that make you nervous, if I can. I’m glad you know you can ask me for help.”

Your smile was wobbly, then. “Aw, Joshy. I love you, you know.”

He gave you a sweet smile. “I love you too, baby. Hopefully we’ll be in and out, and then we can spend the rest of the day cuddled up on the couch. Sound good?”

“Sounds wonderful,” you said with a sigh. 

You lost track of time in the waiting room, sucked into the weird vortex of discomfort and the smell of antiseptic, but eventually your name was called. Josh went with you, and though you might have felt a little embarrassed to be a grown woman with a personal escort to the doctor, you just didn’t have the energy to care. Besides, there was nothing wrong with having Josh with you, and you were glad you didn’t have to do it alone.

He waited patiently while you got your vitals checked, making jokes about your pulse being a little high with white coat syndrome. When the nurse left you alone in the room again, he gave you a thumbs up.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he said with a sweet smile. “I bet you’re the best patient they’ve had all day.”

“I do my best,” you said. You fidgeted on the table, the paper crinkling under you. “Can we get coffee after this?”

“Sure, honey. Whatever you want.”

You gave him a teasing smile. “Whatever I want, huh? Could you strip naked right now and do the hula for me?”

He laughed, and the warm sound of it took the edge off the chill of the sterile room.

“Maybe not whatever you want,” he corrected. He stood and came over to the exam table, giving your thigh a comforting pat. “But I think I can handle coffee.”

You winced and tilted your head as you felt a sharp pain go from your ear all the way down your neck. Josh gently covered the spot with his warm hand, and you leaned into his touch.

“There’s this new documentary on Netflix,” you said, trying to distract yourself from the ache. “About the night they got the supergroup together for ‘We Are The World’.”

“I saw the trailer,” he agreed. He slowly ran his fingers over your fevered skin. “You want to watch that when we get home?”

“Sure. We can make a roster of who should be in the next version with you guys.”

He smiled. “Okay, baby. I’d like that.” A sympathetic frown tugged at his features when you grimaced again.

“I'm sorry you don't feel good, honey,” he said. “I know a jacked up ear isn't very fun.”

You breathed a laugh. “I shouldn't complain. Your whole eardrum exploded, so mine’s easy in comparison.”

He chuckled. “Are we in a competition for worst ear injury? That's kinda weird, even for us.”

You leaned your head against his, thankful for the way he comforted you and made you smile without even trying. 

He pulled back when the door handle turned, and gave your hand a squeeze before he took his seat again. The doctor gave you a quick exam, confirming an ear infection secondary to a sinus infection, and prescribed you a round of antibiotics. 

Josh got you squared away at the desk before you left, and you were content to let him do the talking as the pain started to catch up with you. He led you out to the car, getting you settled in the passenger seat before he got in himself.

“Still feel up for coffee?” he asked.

You curled up in a pitiful little ball. “Yes, please. But maybe I’ll get the Medicine Ball instead.”

He kept one hand on your thigh as he drove, and you half dozed with your hands wrapped around the wonderfully warm Starbucks cup. He ran into the store to pick up your prescription and a few other things, and though he’d promised to be quick, he was gone longer than you’d expected.

“Where did you go?” you said, an irritated, petulant tone creeping into your voice. “The Bermuda Triangle?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said sincerely, putting the bags in the back of the Jeep. “The pharmacy line was super long. I guess I should have taken you home and come back out for your medicine.”

You softened, feeling a little guilty. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be grumpy with you when you're running around doing everything for me.”

He touched a hand to your cheek. “You don’t have to apologize, baby. I know you don't feel good. I understand if you’re grumpy.”

You held his hand and kept it pressed to your cheek for a moment. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, baby. Let’s get you home, okay?”

At home, he got your medicine and some painkillers into you before he ran you a bath. He sat on the edge of the tub, brushing your hair back from your face.

“I think you’ll feel better if you have a nap, baby,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “Do you want to eat something before you lay down?”

You shook your head. “I don’t really have an appetite.”

“I understand. I’d like you to try and eat a little something, though, just so the medicine doesn't make you sick. How about some soup?”

You looked up at him. “Can you do the spinach and rice one Jake makes?”

He nodded slowly. “Uh... yes. I think so.” You laughed when he pulled out his phone to ask his brother for the recipe.

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Let me go get it cooking,” he said. “You enjoy your bath.”

You gratefully sank into the warm water, letting it soothe your aches until you felt all jellied and tired. Still, you were reaching the edge of your tolerance for the consistent pain; you knew the Tylenol had to be kicking in soon, but until it did, you were steadily getting more outdone with feeling so miserable. You hardly spoke when Josh came to help you out and brought you warm pajamas, and he watched you with worry as he steered you to the couch.

You winced when the pain spiked suddenly. “Oh my god, ow.”

Josh pulled back from you. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No. My stupid ear.” You gingerly pressed your hand to it, close to tears with frustration and discomfort. You looked pitifully up at him. “It hurts, Joshy.”

“I know, baby,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. What can I do?”

You shook your head, unable to think of anything, even if there was anything he could do. He just pulled you close and held you in a safe, steady hug, and it was exactly what you needed.

“My sweet baby,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry you’re hurting.”

A few tears spilled over, and you buried your face against his chest.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said in a small voice.

“Honey,” he soothed. “You’re welcome. You don't have to thank me. I wish I could do more to help.”

You hugged him tighter, resting in his warmth and closeness. “You’re perfect, Josh.”

He rested his head against yours and rocked you gently. “I love you, my sweet girl.”

When the uptick in pain finally subsided, maybe because the medicine had finally kicked in, you let yourself be settled on the couch in a nest of pillows. Josh covered you with every fuzzy blanket he could find until you were practically buried in them.

“Joshy,” you giggled. 

He smiled. “There’s that sweet laugh,” he said tenderly. “I missed it. What’s got you so tickled?”

You tried to lift your arms under the blankets. “I’m gonna be trapped in here.”

He chuckled. “It’s my master plan. Keep you wrapped up in blankets so you can never escape me.”

“I don’t want to escape you.”

“Just making sure.” He held your face in his hands and gave you kiss after kiss after kiss, each one sweet and gentle and joyful. “I love you very much, you know.”

You gave him a bashful smile. “Yeah, I know.”

You had dinner — Josh had replicated Jake’s recipe perfectly, which he insisted was thanks to his twin’s detailed instructions — and watched the documentary about the recording of ‘We Are The World’. The two of you spent a while listing people you wanted in your supergroup to play with Greta Van Fleet.

“I want Noah Kahan and Gregory Alan Isakov,” you said.

Josh nodded sagely. “I see the vision. We should get Labi Siffre too.”

“Can we go back in time and get John Denver?” you asked.

He smiled. “Yes. I’m making that executive decision. Because I want to grab the original lineup of Fairport Convention.”

“So... we’re doing a folk rock version, then?”

He hummed in agreement. “And we make friends with everybody, and it’s the number one single in the world, and it’s your favorite song that we’ve ever done.”

You laughed and cuddled against him when he pulled you close.

He ran his hand up and down your arm. “I'm glad you’re feeling a little better, honey.”

You gave a contented sigh. “Me too.”

It had started to rain when you got home, and there was still a gentle, steady drumbeat on the roof that matched the hazy blue wash against your windows. Josh held you close and told you about what they’d worked on in the studio, and before long, the warmth of his voice and the sound of the rain worked as surely as a lullaby to pull you towards sleep.

Josh brushed his thumb over your cheek. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he said softly.

You tilted your face up for a kiss, and he obliged you. He was all love and gentleness and warmth, as he always was, and you melted into his touch.

“You love me lots, don’t you?” you asked.

“Yes, baby. Lots and lots.”

“Oh good,” you said, cosy and sleepy and content in the safety of his arms. “I love you lots too.”

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[goldenempyrean]

ooooo

for this, how about sick reader who absolutely refuses to take medicine but wandanat bribes them with cuddles and one of their hoodies?

- 🎧

Bribery

〚 Notes - Another quick little drabble to empty my inbox :D Enjoy :) 〛

〚 Pairing- WandaNat x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Refusing to take your medicine isn't exactly pleasing your girlfriends, luckily, they know just how to bribe you. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 700 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

You knew you were coming down with something. You’d felt it coming on for days. So, when you woke up with an awfully sore throat and stuffy nose, you knew you were in for a rough few days, still your work needed doing so you settled down and cracked on with your files. 

Luckily for you, both of your girlfriends had noticed the growing pile of tissues in the trash next to you and the increased loudness of your sneezes and it seemed they’d both had enough of your antics. 

With an affirming nod, both girls made their way over to the table where you were sat, “You ready for a break princess?” Nat cooed as she came to stand behind your chair, wrapping her arm over the front of your chest. 

“I think you could use it baby,” Wanda added as she slowly pulled the file you’d been working on away, “You sound like you’re getting a cold.” 

“I second that.” Nat added, not giving you a chance to deny it, “Come on baby, how about we lay down for a bit, you’ve done enough work for now.” 

You couldn't help but smile at the thought of taking a break. The exhaustion from working while sick was starting to catch up with you. "Alright," you said, standing up slowly, "That sounds good to me." 

Nat and Wanda led you to the bedroom, where they had already prepared a cosy nest of blankets and pillows. They helped you get settled in and then both climbed in beside you, snuggling up close. Everything was fine until you racked forward with a harsh, chesty fit of coughing which had both your girlfriends rubbing your back worriedly. 

 “How about we get some medicine into you?” Nat soothed, once you’d finally calmed down from the fit. 

You shook your head stubbornly, “I’m fine, it’s just a little cold. I don’t need any medicine.” 

Both Nat and Wanda exchanged concerned looks, “But baby,” Wanda said softly, “you need to take something to help you feel better.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll be fine, I don’t need any medicine, I just need rest.” 

But as the day wore on, your symptoms only got worse. Your cough grew more persistent, and your nose became even more congested. Your girlfriends tried numerous times to persuade you to take some medicine, but you refused each time, insisting that you would get better on your own. 

Eventually though, it seemed your stubbornness was no longer going to be tolerated because Nat suddenly released you from her hold, as did Wanda, leaving you shivering in the absence of their body heat. 

“You take the medicine, and you’ll get all the cuddles you could ever possibly want. That’s only if you take it.” Nat said sternly, her tone taking on a stern edge. You looked to Wanda for support, but she had the same stubborn glint in her eyes as she looked down at you. 

“We’ll even let you wear that black hoodie of ours that you love so much.” Wanda added with a slight smirk when she saw the slight glow of excitement cross your face. 

You sighed, knowing that you were defeated. You couldn't resist the offer of their cuddles and your favourite hoodie. You nodded reluctantly, and Nat handed you a glass of water with the medicine dissolved in it. 

It tasted awful, and you wrinkled your nose in disgust, but you downed it quickly, not wanting to risk their cuddles being taken away. 

After a few minutes, you started to feel a little drowsy, and Nat and Wanda helped you settle back into the blankets. They snuggled up close to you, and you could feel their warmth seeping into your body, making you feel instantly better. 

"You were right," you murmured sleepily, "I do feel better already." 

Nat and Wanda exchanged smug grins before Wanda leaned in to kiss your forehead, "We know, baby," she whispered, "We always know what's best for you." 

You drifted off to sleep with a contented smile on your face, safe and warm in their embrace, knowing that they would always take care of you, even when you were being stubborn about taking your medicine. 

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[anticanonsposts]

Hurt/Comfort Alphabet-König

Completely SFW

A= Alleviate (How do they go about relieving persistent physical pain?)

He’s a big ibuprofen paired with ice cream or warm compress kind of guy.

If its back pain he also loves it when you give him back rubs.

Especially because of your size difference he is able to lay on his stomach and you can easily just sit on his butt and go at it.

When he has more cold type symptoms like a sore throat, his go to is tea and honey. 

B= Bedridden (How do they behave when they’re sick?)

He is the suffer in silence type and won’t usually make a fuss about himself being sick.

But when you do cater to him, and coddle him a  bit when he is sick, he gets super happy.

But when you do this he also will not directly ask you for anything because he feels bad, but it’s pretty easy for you to figure out what he needs

C= Cling (Whose physical touch is considered most welcome in their minds when they are in need? Is there a specific type of touch they respond well to?)

He’s very open to arm and shoulder touches, at first he tenses up when you touch his shoulders and you always ask if he’s ok, and he assures you that he is.

Eventually he no longer tenses up.

D= Deathbed (How would they react if they realized they may not recover from their injuries?)

He would honestly think of you and his mom, and be thankful for the time he was able to spend with you two.

He would also be worried about  how his death would impact you and your life.

But his last thoughts would be of you, knowing that no heaven could match his time with you.

E= Emergency (What is their gut reaction when someone they care about is hurt?) 

Contrary to what people would think, his first instinct is to make sure that you are ok and taken care of.

He would first make sure that you are out of danger and the threat is nullified. 

Then his second priority would be taking care of the threat.

F= Fight (Are there circumstances under which they would not accept treatment or care? If so, what are they?)

He’s only human so I feel like there is a limit to what he’d be willing to go through.

If the doctor told him that his chance of recovery was very slim WITH a bunch of different and possible experimental treatments…

He would just not want to give you false hopes that he will one day get better.

Both selfishly and selflessly he would not want to go through a intense, aggressive treatment if the likelihood of recovery was low. Both because physically that would be terrible to go through of course, but also he wouldn't want you to see him deteriorate with a false hope.

G= Ghosts (How has their past shaped the kind of comfort they respond to best?)

Due to his history of being bullied and then the aggression he faced in the military he really responds to praises and words of affirmations. 

Even if they are very simple and casual they really touch his heart and make him feel warm inside. 

H= Home (What things (objects, sensations or people) remind them they’re safe after a scary situation?)

Your hand anywhere on him really comforts and grounds him.

Even though you are not the most physically imposing person he still feels very safe with you.

Because at least if you both feel unsafe, you will navigate the issue together, just knowing that he is not alone in it makes him very happy.

I= Isolation (How do they soothe themselves when no one is around to soothe them?)

He usually will sit or lay down and put something heavy on his chest and just try to focus on his breathing, trying to focus on how it feels and feeling the weight on his chest. 

J= Joy (When was the first time they were truly happy after going through something terrible?)

The two of you visited Austria and the two of you and his mom went to a park to have a picnic and he for the first time after the event felt so secure and happy.

He was with the two people he cared about most in the world and couldn’t get enough of the feeling.

K= Kindness (Do they believe they deserve the comfort they receive? Why or why not?)

Years of bullying have really made him feel like he does not deserve any of the comfort he gets.

But conversely he understands why he gets comfort/praise at his job because he is very competent and knows that. 

But he gets very used to the comfort and kindness you show him and values it very much.

L= Levity (What or who helps them take their mind off of the circumstances?)

Based on what I know about military personnel/veterans re-entering civilian society, I think this would be König’s main struggle to overcome.

He would need to get used to the slower paced and calmer domestic life and I think he would still be startled by loud noises/gunshots/fireworks at times, especially if he wasn’t expecting them.

Anyways 

Kind of a simple answer but I honestly think time would be one of the best healers for him 

The more time he spends at his civilian job and with you helps him get more comfortable.

Overall I think just being grounded in the moment helps his thoughts from running wild and reminiscing on the past.  

M= Music (Is there a song that comforts them? Why is it comforting to them?)

I know stereotypically I wanna say he is into German/Austrian rock but also I think that is the most logical answer

I feel like he might have grown up seeing older kids partake in the club scene in Europe, and might be familiar with that type of music.

I also don’t think he would be super picky when it comes to music, and would listen to whatever you put on.

I think he would eventually like more artists as you introduce him to more. 

N= Nostalgia (What things that comforted them as a kid still work today? Does anyone know that?)

Purely my opinion but I think the dark is very comforting to him.

In the dark he doesn’t have to be seen or perceived by anyone therefore no one is looking at him.

I think he finds security in the hidden aspect.

Also as a kid i think his room was his sanctuary in a way, away from his father mainly.

The dark is also very unstimulating and I think when he was working in the military he would be so stimulated throughout the day that it would be nice to sort of ‘turn everything off’ in the dark. 

And listen sometimes when you’re in a brightly lit, loud environment for a while you just need some time in the dark. 

O= Overworked (Who or what tells them to stop working and take care of themselves?)

Now that he isn’t in the military and in a much less stressful and high stakes job, he really doesn’t need this reminder often.

If he ever does get stressed I think you’d just need to tell him gently that it is not that serious and he would be able to chill out. 

P= Please (Have they ever begged for someone to comfort or stay with them? What was that incident like?)

When you first see him both maskless and shirtless at the same time he would be super nervous because of the copious amount of scars he has.

He would want to just stay with you the rest of the day, in each other’s arms. 

Q= Questions (Are they eager to talk about what or why they’re hurting? Why or why not?)

For sure not at first, he was raised with more traditional views/roles so it takes him a while to accept that he can have and express negative feelings other than anger.

Once he gets more comfortable though he gets better and better at articulating what is hurting him and why, and is better able to work towards solutions. 

R= Relief (How do they react to the realization that they will soon be fully recovered?)

Assuming that this pertains more to a physical injury I think like anyone he would feel better that he was going to feel normal again. And be able to do things as he normally did them before the injury. 

He would also reflect a lot on how much you helped him during this time and that makes him feel very loved. 

S= Scared (What would it take for them to admit that they’re scared?)

At the beginning of a relationship I think it would either take a very high amount of fear or lots of time for him to admit it. 

But as the relationship progresses he would be more comfortable accepting and admitting he was afraid. 

T= Time (How long does it take for them to feel better after an ordeal or illness? Do they tend to lie about how soon they feel better?) 

When it comes to physical illnesses or injuries I think he brushes them off pretty quickly since he is used to doing that because of work. 

You often need to remind him that he is no longer in a high stress, unstable environment therefore he can and should slow down and allow his body more time to heal.

An emotional/mental type wound would of course take longer to heal, and I do see him as the type of person to lie about if he was feeling better.

But you get pretty good at reading his moods, so even if he says he feels better and you can tell that he doesn't, you usually just do the same or similar things you do when he does admit to not feeling good.

I also peg him as also being able to read your mood very well (trauma induced hypersensitivity to others’ emotions) so I think he would catch on if you did this but would also be happy that you were not pushing him to talk about the issue and instead just offering him support until he was ready. 

U= Ugly (What part of their recovery process are they ashamed of, if any?)

I think after so many years of being treated like a giant strong man and having people constantly make comments about it, he would feel ashamed when either he physically was injured and had limits or mentally.

I think he would also feel embarrassed that he needed support from you, since in his eyes, he always wanted to be your safety net but now the roles were reversed.

Especially if it's an emotional type of issue, I think he was raised with pretty ‘traditional’ roles and it took him a while to accept that he could feel things and not feel ok and that that was just fine. 

V= Valiant (Has anyone told them they were brave for facing what they did? How would they react if someone did?)

Once he opens up to you about past bullying and other things that have happened in his past and you are nothing but supportive and sympathetic to what he went through…

Your reaction when he told you about the bullying was quite literally you telling him that you were proud of him and he was brave for what happened, I think he’d tense up a bit, not quite sure how to handle it.

He would probably even cry, especially if you two were in a private setting and would try to hold the tears in but you would coax them out of him eventually. 

W= Why? (How did they process what happened to them?)

I personally think that him volunteering for the armed forces was an act of rebellion against his dad as well as a way to get away from his home. I also think with his history of bullying he sort of saw the armed forces as a way for him to do something ‘right’ and even if he was still a victim of torment at least the other volunteers/recruits would be as well. 

I also think when he opens up more and more to you about it he would dismiss a lot of it and insist that it wasn’t really that bad. 

X= Xenas (Do they see anyone as an inspiration in their recovery? Does their inspiration know about this?)

For emotional and physical things I think that if you have had any issues he looks to you for inspiration.

Both because if someone as perfect and strong as you can get better and heal then so can he. As well he pictures a beautiful life together with you in the future, and uses that as motivation. 

Y= Yearn (What gesture, person or thing do they desperately want, but would never actually ask for?)

As much as he loves doing everything for you, he fucking loves being babied. 

Like I can imagine him bundled up in bed or on the couch sick as a dog, you with him, and frequently getting him meals, snacks, water, and gatorade. 

You tried to spoon feed him soup once and he insisted that was too much but secretly enjoyed it. 

Z= Zero (What is the best way to comfort them without touching them?) 

I think just knowing that you are there for him and available if he needs it would be the best comfort. 

For example if you are together in a parallel play type situation, where you are in the same room but doing two completely different things. 

Or if you were both at work, getting messages from you about benign or funny things, not necessarily about whatever he is going through, just your presence and open ears really comforts him. 

[feverwhump]

Whumpee is at an evening event they can’t get out of and starts to feel increasingly sick. They’ve got chills to the point of shivering and the tickle in their throat has settled into a persistent soreness. Whumpee’s exhausted, but they can’t leave, so they start texting their significant other/caretaker that they think they have a fever with a list of their symptoms. The night goes on, and as new symptoms begin to arise, the keep caretaker updated. Once the night ends and they’re finally able to get home, their caretaker is up waiting with comfy clothes, a thermometer, and medicine.

[selene-and-the-cold]

When a workaholic person has such an enormous amount of perfectionism, self-control, or fear of failure (or all at once ^^) that their body is just NOT allowed to show any symptoms of the bad cold that's already raging in their system.

They are sick, oh they know! That persistent tickle at the very back of their nose, the sore throat that demands a constant, well-planned stream of liquids to not let them down and make their voice crack.

That slight feeling of heat lingering under the collar of their neatly pressed shirt, which has them choose the suit made of lighter fabric.

And they are clever. They know that ignoring their cold and hoping for the best won't do. So they take all necessary measures to keep the monster of a cold soothed enough so it won't break out in a raging, blatantly obvious display of symptoms.

They take care of themselves and their cold as much as is needed so they can still function perfectly. They do so subtly, secretly, unbeknownst to any other person but themselves.

But it's exhausting. Draining their energy like a faulty battery. Always hungry, never quite charged enough. And each day, the battery is running low a little faster.

It is all a very fragile equilibrium. Held in balance by their sheer will to get through it all until their important project is finished, or until their presentation is over.

Once they fulfilled their obligation and delivered their work- neat, perfect, flawless as always - they take a few days off, tidy their office, then go home, where they all but crash on their couch, a sweaty, sniffling, feverish mess as the cold is finally allowed to roam free.

Bonus points if they get to crash into the loving, waiting arms of a veeeeery patient SO, who was forced to witness the struggle from the sidelines all along

[127luvr]

Hi!!! Can I request a Jaemin X Male Reader.. Where The reader is sick so Jaemin take care of him.. like Jaemin giving the reader meds, cooking a food the reader and helping him to eat., and always being near to him, hugging him, kissing him and even cuddling the reader.. the reader refuses cuz he don't want jaemin to be sick as well but Jaemin refused to leave him and still cuddle him even he can be sick as well...

That's it TY!!!

Sweet Dream (_　_)。゜zｚＺ

Na Jaemin x Male Reader

It’s fall season. The leaves are visibly turning yellow and orange and brown. The weather is significantly cooler than it was just a week ago. This brings along the seasonal items in certain business—most of which you were ready to go out and try. However with this change in weather—sickness was bound to follow with it.

The flu season was in full effect as you felt you were the first victim to succumb to the symptoms. It came on slowly. It hadn’t even been an official day of fall when you started feeling congested. First with a headache followed by body aches and later with a persistent fever. Getting out of bed was hard—eating was hard—even coughing was difficult. But Jaemin was there.

He was there every second—taking care of you for days on end instead of enjoying the weather outside.

“Jaem.” You barely recognized your own voice underneath the soreness of your throat but Jaemin recognizes the tone of it. You wanted him to stop. To take care of himself instead of taking care of you. “You’re gonna get sick.”

He shrugs his shoulders absentmindedly, blowing on the broth that sits on the metal spoon in his hand. He puts his free hand below the spoon, bringing it towards your lips. It’s still warm when you feel it go down your throat, the smell clearing your congestion for a few moments—the taste still lacking. Nevertheless you’re grateful for Jaemin. His selflessness was its most evident now. He does so much despite you never asking for it—almost as if it came as second nature to him.

Once you’re done with the soup you can’t help but close your eyes—smothered under all the blankets Jaemin placed on top of you. But you hear him walk back from placing the plates in the sink and you can’t help but peak. There’s a glass of water and medicine in his hands.

“(Y/n). You can go back to napping after you take this, okay?” You know you love it—being babied by Jaemin in this state was nice. It was a good distraction from how your body ached and shivered even as the heat from the blankets accumulated together. “For me?”

You stretch your neck out to take the medicine from him, disguising your distaste of the texture with a crooked smile. He smiles back—a shining smile with his perfect teeth that sparkle even in the low light. He places the water on the nightstand, climbing in on the other side of the bed with nothing but a pair of shorts on. There’s no time to argue as he shuffles next to you, getting under the blankets with you.

He wastes no time in snuggling up next to you, wrapping his limbs around your body like a koala. You feel his cool arms snake around your waist—one between you and the mattress—the other lazily against your stomach. It’s a nice contrast to the heat. You find it calms your shivering and goosebumps.

“You’re gonna get sick.” It’s barely a muffle. A statement you’ve made several times in the past days and still it falls on deaf ears. He responds by tightening his grip on you slightly—but enough to make it noticeable. You swallow—placing your hands on top of his to play with. His are much larger than yours. Fingers long and pretty as you interlock your own with his absentmindedly. “Thank you for taking care of me. I’ll take care of you just as good when you eventually get sick.”

“You’re a broken record, (Y/n). But I love you even when snotty and gross.” You try slapping away his hands, squirming in his hold playfully. “You know I’m kidding, baby. I’m always here for you.”

[mapis-putellas]

I’ve got you

Another amazing collab with the awesome @goldenempyrean!

Pairings: Natasha x you

Words: 1600 (ish)

Warnings: none

Summary: It was early into your relationship with Nat when you wound up sick but you didn't have the heart to tell her, unsure of how she'd react. Despite your claims, it seems Nat's a little more concerned about your health than you first thought

It started with a persistent tickle in the back of your throat. A little irritating but nothing a little water and chamomile tea couldn't fix. But then came the runny nose and stuffed up sinuses, and no matter how many times you blew your nose, it would return with a vengeance every. freaking. time.

You end up going through two boxes of tissues in just a day, and your poor nose was red raw.

You didn't often get sick. Maybe once or twice a year and it was never anything more than the casual cold.

You’d get the sniffles, maybe a sore throat. You'd take a day off work to recoup knowing that your boss wouldn't want you at anything less than your best, and that was that.

But you had a sinking feeling that this time, that wouldn't be the case. You felt absolutely horrible, and that was only amplified by a thousand when you realise that tonight was the night that Natasha was driving down to see you and you'd have to pretend you were completely fine.

You'd only been dating for a little under seven  weeks, so things were still pretty new to the both of you. That includes the affection front. Sure you kissed and occasionally cuddled, but you were no where near close enough to being comfortable with her looking after your sick self. Especially not when you were all snotty and full of germs.

It was why tonight would suck, because not only would you have to pretend you weren't sick, you'd also have to hide every sniffle, every cough every sneeze. All of which you knew would next to impossible because you had an former ex-KGB assassin as your girlfriend.

You tried everything to make yourself look and feel better. You even went to extent of gargling with salt water and taking some over-the-counter medicine (which you were usually against) to relieve your symptoms. But nothing seemed to work.

As the hours ticked by, you found yourself feeling worse and worse. Your head was pounding, your body aching, and you couldn't stop coughing. You tried to distract yourself by cleaning up the apartment and making some dinner, but it was a struggle to even stand up for more than a few minutes at a time.

You tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible, despite feeling like death warmed over. You took a hot shower, hoping that it would clear out your sinuses, but it only seemed to make things worse. Ignoring the pleasing urge to shove on some warm, comforting pyjamas, you forced yourself to changed into some nicer looking clothes, hoping to distract Natasha from your symptoms, but you knew deep down that it was a lost cause.

When Natasha finally arrived, you put on your best smile and greeted her at the door. She hugged you tightly, and you felt guilty for not being able to reciprocate as enthusiastically as you wanted to.

As you hugged Natasha, you felt a sneeze building up. You tried to suppress it, but your efforts were in vain. You felt your nostrils flare and your eyes start to water, and you knew there was no way to hide it.

You quickly pulled away from Natasha, turning your head and sneezing into your elbow. You tried to play it off as a small cough, but you knew she had heard you.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern etched across her features. There was also a look of knowing in her eyes, but you were too busy trying to stifle another sneeze to notice it.

After managing to get yourself under control, you send her what you hoped was a reassuring smile as you nod your head.

"I'm okay. Just allergies." You lie, pulling open the front door to properly welcome her inside.

Natasha eyes you suspiciously as she steps inside your apartment, kicking off her shoes and and setting down her overnight bag.  "I'm okay. Really." You reaffirm as you close and lock your front door, turning to face Natasha who was already staring at you with a doubtful look on her face.

She thankfully says nothing, simply taking you by the hand and leading you over to the couch. You sniffle softly as you sit, trying to be as subtle as you could about wiping your nose with the sleeve of your shirt.

There was no tissues near you -not that you could blow your nose even if you wanted to because that would definitely give you away. So you resort to suffering in silence, bringing your attention over to Natasha who was telling you how her drive here had gone. 

As Natasha talks, you feel the telltale tickle in your nose and you know that you're about to sneeze again. You desperately try to hold it in, clamping your mouth shut and scrunching up your face. You focus all your energy on keeping the sneeze at bay, hoping that Natasha won't notice.

But just as she finishes her story, you can't hold it in any longer.

A loud "Hh'iishoo!" echoes through the room, and you cringe, feeling embarrassed and self-conscious.

Natasha looks at you with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asks.

You nod, feeling guilty for lying to her. "It's just allergies," you repeat. "I'll be fine."

Natasha studies you for a moment before nodding. "Okay," she says, still sounding unsure. "But if you need anything, let me know."

You smile gratefully at her, feeling relieved that she doesn't press the issue any further. You try to focus on the conversation, but it's getting harder to concentrate with your nose running and your head feeling heavy.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping that a few minutes alone will help you regain your composure. As soon as you're inside, you let out a series of sneezes, finally letting your guard down.

You blow your nose and splash some water on your face, trying to feel better. But as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, you realize that you look terrible. Your eyes are red and watery, your nose is bright red, and you're sweating despite feeling cold.

You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself, knowing that you can't let Natasha see you like this. You splash some more water on your face and take a few deep breaths before returning to the living room.

When you get there, Natasha was stood up again, eyebrow raised pointedly with her arms crossed against her chest. That same look of knowing was back on her face, and you immediately knew the gig was up.

She knew.

"You're sick." She states, and you sigh softly as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear before sitting yourself back down onto the couch. You don't deny her accusations, knowing full well you wouldn't get anywhere.

"It's not even allergy season," she adds as she sits down on the coffee table in front of you. "You lied to me."

"I'm sorry," you immediately apologise, the guilt you were feeling suddenly amplified by a thousand. "I just didn't want you to have to deal with me like this. All sick, congested and gross." You trail off in an unsure murmur, using the sleeve of your shirt to wipe of your nose.

You grimace slightly when Natasha takes that same sleeve without issue and folds it up so the soiled part of it was out of sight. Apparently germs didn't bother her like you thought.

"Look at me," she murmurs, giving your hand in her own a soft squeeze. You cough slightly in the bend of your arm before complying. When you see that Natasha's lips had quirked up into a soft grin, you couldn't help but mimic it despite how crappy you were feeling.

"I know it hasn't been very long, but I promise it's okay to let yourself be vulnerable with me." She starts, trailing the pad of her thumb across the back of your hand.

You nod weakly at her words, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You had been trying so hard to hide your sickness from Natasha, afraid that she would think less of you for being weak and vulnerable. But her words were like a balm to your soul, soothing your worries and reminding you that you weren't alone.

Natasha stands up from the coffee table and disappears into the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with a steaming cup of tea and a plate of crackers. She sets them down on the table in front of you and urges you to eat and drink, knowing that it would help you feel better.

You take a sip of the tea, letting the warm liquid soothe your sore throat and ease your congested sinuses. You feel a little better already, and it was all thanks to Natasha's care and concern.

As you eat the crackers and drink the tea, Natasha sits down next to you on the couch and wraps an arm around your shoulders. You lean into her embrace, feeling safe and protected in her arms. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, savoring the feeling of being cared for and loved.

Natasha continues to hold you, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on your arm as you drift off to sleep. You dream of being wrapped in her arms, of feeling her warmth and comfort, and of knowing that you were never, ever alone.

**

Thank you for reading!

@mywitchy-assassin @romanoffsbish @goldenempyrean

[whumpprentice]

sore throat is such a GOOD symptom. Can't talk, can't eat, drinking water and taking medicine are monumental tasks, not visible so people can't tell something is off right away, the persistent discomfort. yes

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

As flu season nears, so do new COVID-19 variants.

A newly discovered COVID strain known as XEC continues to spread rapidly across multiple countries, including the United States and California.

First appearing in late June in Berlin, the XEC COVID-19 strain has spread across Europe, North America, and Asia, totaling around 550 samples, according to Australia-based data integration specialist Mike Honey.

The variant has been recorded in 27 countries, including China, Ukraine, Norway, and Poland.

COVID in California XEC is spreading rapidly worldwide, but there have been only 23 cases in the United States, including three in California.

“We are still in early days, so it could be a dominant strain, or it could fizzle out and die. It’s very difficult to predict. It does have some advantages in the lab over currently circulating strains, predominantly the KP strains," Chief Dr. Dean Blumberg of Pediatric Infectious Diseases at UC Davis Health told ABC Sacramento.

Omicron variant KP.3.1.1, also known as deFLuQE, made up over half (52.7%) of COVID-19 cases between Sept. 1 and Sept. 14. However, XEC and a variant known as MV.1 seem poised to become the next dominant strains, scientists say.

"At this juncture, the XEC variant appears to be the most likely one to get legs next," Scripps Research Translational Institute Director Eric Topol wrote on X.

California has seen a slowdown in COVID-19 infections and deaths since late August, the California Department of Public Health reported.

"While COVID-19 levels had increased over the summer to levels comparable to last summer, they are now decreasing as seen in both decreasing SARS-CoV-2 test positivity and detections in wastewater," officials told KCRA 3 Sacramento in a statement.

COVID XEC symptoms The CDC has not confirmed whether the XEC variant has any unique symptoms. USA TODAY has contacted CDC officials for comment.

The agency continues to outline the primary COVID-19 symptoms, which can appear between two to 14 days after exposure to the virus and can range from mild to severe.

These are some of the symptoms of COVID-19:

Fever or chills Cough Shortness of breath or difficulty breathing Fatigue Muscle or body aches Headache Loss of taste or smell Sore throat Congestion or runny nose Nausea or vomiting Diarrhea

The CDC said you should seek medical attention if you have the following symptoms:

Trouble breathing Persistent pain or pressure in the chest New confusion Inability to wake or stay awake Pale, gray or blue-colored skin, lips, or nail beds

What is variant MV. 1? First documented in Maharashtra, India, in late June, COVID-19 variant MV.1 has been recorded in nine countries, including the United States, Honey reported.

It's spread across four continents in countries including Portugal, Scotland, Ireland and the Netherlands. In the United States, it's mainly been seen in the northeast, according to Honey.

How can we protect ourselves from XEC and other variants? The CDC recommends that everyone ages 6 months and older, with some exceptions, receive an updated 2024-25 COVID-19 vaccine to protect against the virus, regardless of whether you have previously been vaccinated or infected.

[anghraine]

On the one hand: I've spent most of today with a piercing headache, a persistent sneeze/cough that made the headache worse, a sore throat, and a borderline asthma attack that took my as needed AM/PM Wixela and two rescue inhaler dosages to club into submission. I was hoping I'd get something done and ... didn't, really.

On the other: J has been sick for much longer than me (if not as severely) and though Ash and I came down with the death rattle at the same time, her non-respiratory symptoms are quite a lot worse and more misery-inducing (I continue to benefit from my congenital iron stomach).

Also, as I was drifting off, I was thinking about my slow-going update of the AO3 version of my f!Luke Skywalker fics to match the final Dreamwidth version. The changes are mainly minor stylistic corrections and it was hard to focus through the brain fog anyway, and yet suddenly I was struck by the realization that there was an easy solution to a problem in the current fic in the series that I've been trying to figure out for years.

I can't give too many details because of spoilers, but the difficulty has revolved around a plot point I'd planned since 2011 (it's foreshadowed in Adventures) and which I still want to happen for thematic reasons. But the solution I need the characters to reach for their problem seemed kind of a stretch on a story logic front—not a huge problem for Star Wars, lbr, but enough of one that I kept thinking "okay, but why don't they just do X." But as I was curled up miserably in bed, I was like, "wait if this thing happens first and then they do that, then the thing that really needs to happen makes perfect sense, I can't believe I didn't think of that before!"

So, not a total loss.

[megraen]

So, for the last three weeks, I have been dealing with a persistent cough that has only been getting worse.

It has been causing me to almost collapse because the fits are so bad and I’m been coughing up phlegm.

As it hasn’t been easing up, I decided to go to the doctors. My regular one wasn’t available, so I instead saw one I never encountered before.

I hated him.

He dismissed all my symptoms, telling me that I clearly just had a sore throat, when in fact, my throat is fine. He also lectured me on ‘wasting his time’ over a ‘simple cough’. He read my medical records in front of me and told me that they were incorrect, such as my previous period symptoms that’s were so bad I had to get a hysterectomy. He also had the gall to say I wasn’t anemic, and that anemia doesn’t cause fainting.

This man was so rude and clearly didn’t give a fuck about his role as a doctor.

[tearsinthemist]

What are HV.1 symptoms?

The symptoms caused by infection with HV.1 are similar to those caused by recent variants, says Schaffner, which include:

Sore throat

Congestion or stuffiness

Runny nose

Cough

Fatigue

Headache

Muscle aches

Fever or chills

“Congestion, sore throat and dry cough seem to be the three most prominent symptoms right now,” says Schaffner.

Increasingly, doctors report that COVID-19 symptoms appear to follow a pattern of being concentrated in the upper respiratory tract, starting with a sore throat and followed by congestion or a runny nose, NBC news reported.

Coughing isn't typically a primary symptom, but it can persist. "The virus seems to produce a kind of a chronic bronchitis, so that you can have a cough syndrome that lasts beyond the period where you’ve recovered from other symptoms," says Schaffner.

"I haven’t really heard of anything very different or any new symptoms that may raise alarms," says Sampathkumar.

Another trend is that COVID-19 seems to be causing milder illness, likely because people have some prior immunity. “By milder, we mean it doesn’t require hospitalization even though you can feel quite miserable for several days,” says Schaffner.

[hockeynoses]

R/oy x Ja/mie ficlet - Cold Denial

Summary: It’s Roy’s birthday and Jamie isn’t going to let a little cold ruin it.

No applicable warnings. 800 words.

Notes: I wrote this for myself a while back and decided to clean it up. It’s not much but I figured I’d throw it out there. The beginning is kind of boring because I had to go back and add a bit of exposition. Clearly when I wrote it for myself I jumped straight to the snz part. 😅

-

It’s the first time they’re celebrating Roy’s birthday together, and Jamie wants everything to be perfect. Or Roy’s version of perfect, which is much more low-key than Jamie’s usual celebrations. They’re sticking to some takeout from Roy’s favorite restaurant and a movie that he’s been wanting to show Jamie.

All things considered, it’s the easiest birthday celebration he’s ever had to plan, and of course his body is trying to ruin it. He’s been in denial since yesterday about his sore throat and the run-down feeling that’s seeping into his bones. More symptoms are starting to set in at this point – his nose won’t stop running and his sneezes are becoming more frequent and harder to contain. But he’s determined to hide it and not let it ruin Roy’s special evening.

The food arrives and he gets everything set up. When Roy shows up, right on time, Jamie does his best to hide his symptoms and act like nothing’s out of the ordinary. But his nose is starting to turn a bit red, and his voice has a weak, strained quality to it.

As they eat, they catch up about the past few days. If Roy notices that something is off, he doesn’t say anything. Jamie thinks he can feel Roy’s eyes on him when Jamie isn’t looking, but Roy keeps his mouth shut for the time being. He knows Jamie is trying to make tonight special and doesn’t want to put him off.

Jamie manages to survive through dinner with his façade mostly intact, but he knows he doesn’t have much longer before the jig is up. He’s forced to stifle several sneezes at the table, doing his best to turn away and unleash them as quietly as possible into his pinched fingers. He’s mostly successful; only once, now that they’ve just finished eating, does he need to use the emergency tissues he stuffed in his pocket to haphazardly cover a spraying barrage - “hah’ESSSHH! tch’ISSH! Hih’ERSHH’IUE!” that’s too intense to stifle.

Roy quirks a bushy eyebrow at him. “You seem to be sneezing an awful lot.”

“Idt’s jusdt allergies,” Jamie says, fighting against the persistent tickle in his sinuses that’s threatening to make his eyes water. He scrunches his nose up in an effort to relieve the itch, but that only makes it worse.

“I thought you didn’t get allergies until summer?” Roy narrows his eyes, suspicious.

“Well, I guess they came early this year! Fuckin’ hell, I dunno.” Jamie gives a gurgling blow into the bunch of tissues. His bluff isn’t helped when he clears his scratchy throat and gives a couple of dry coughs into the wet cotton.

“You sure you’re not sick?” Roy asks.

“I’b sure.”

“And you’re not just hiding it because it my birthday?”

Jamie hesitates. “I’b – heh – I’b fi-iihh -heh-ITSCCCHHah!” he freezes. That one fucking hurt. He snuffles back some of the congestion that had loosened in the outburst. “I’b fine,” he says again, this time with some uncertainty creeping into his voice.

Roy rolls his eyes. “Come on, Tartt, just admit it. I’m not going to be mad at you for being sick.”

“Ugh. You always have to – hah – have to – hah’ESSHH’IUE!” He groans into the soaked tissue. “Have to be right, don’t yeh?”

“Kind of my job as your coach to know when you need rest, yeah?”

Jamie looks forlorn as he scrubs a finger under his achy, pink nose. “Budt idt’s your birthday.”

“It’s fine, Jamie. I’ve had a lot of birthdays.”

“But this is our first one together! I wanted it to be special,” Jamie says with a pout. “hih’EH’TSSSHOO!” He wrenches forward as he’s overpowered by another miserable, scraping sneeze. Lightheaded, he resigns himself to the fact that they’re getting more out of control by the minute.

“We can do something next week when you’re feeling better. You look like you’re dying,” Roy says. Jamie’s brows knit together as he glares at him, his vanity taking exception to that. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

At that, Jamie perks up a bit, giving a mischievous eyebrow waggle. The effect is kind of ruined by his red, glistening nostrils.

“Not for that! Fuck.” Roy says, exasperated yet fond.

Jamie’s face wilts into a pout. The puppy dog eyes are interrupted when his breath starts to hitch again, and he curls forward into his mass of soggy tissues, expression crumpling. “heh…hih’AEESHH’uh!” He glances up at Roy with defeat in his eyes, the destroyed tissue still pinched around his rebellious nose.

Roy brings a warm hand to the back of Jamie’s neck, a solid and commanding presence. “Please? It’ll make me feel better. It can be my present.”

“Sombe present.” Jamie sniffles thickly, cross with himself. But he eventually gives in, knowing Roy is right. Roy manhandles him up the stairs to the bedroom, grabbing the box of tissues on the way.

[waitineedaname]

inspired by @clearbun's post !

“You’re being a baby.”

“And you’re an asshole.”

It was humiliating just to hear himself speak. Greed the Avaricious, normally a presence that filled the room and a voice that commanded attention, was reduced to a pitiful croak under nine layers of blankets and pillows, made raspy by the gunk that coated his throat. He once had aspirations to be emperor of the world, and now here he was, incapacitated by a mild virus. 

Ling Yao, the Emperor of Xing, Greed’s best friend in the entire world, and most importantly, the absolute bastard who got him sick in the first place, was unamused.

“It’s just bronchitis.” Ling crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “I’m sure every child in Xing has had it at some point.”

“Do I look like a child to you?” Greed managed to unearth a hand from under his layers of blankets to hold up a finger. “Don’t answer that.”

Ling dutifully did not answer, but he did snicker, which was answer enough. Greed was going to throttle him once he felt well enough to stand for longer than forty seconds. “I brought you something to drink,” Ling said, because he was capable of being helpful. Greed poked a little more of his head out from under the blankets, then fully wriggled into a sitting position when he saw what Ling had brought him. He held the warm cup in both hands and took a long sip, letting out a contented sigh. Ling insisted it was just honey and lemon juice, but Greed was pretty sure it was the ichor of the gods, considering it was one of only things he could swallow without feeling like he’d attempted knife-eating again. He’d done that stunt precisely once in his life, and he decided it wasn’t worth the regeneration, even if it was funny to watch people’s reactions. This stupid sore throat was much worse, especially considering he couldn’t even make some dramatic performance out of it.

“Next time,” Greed rasped out between sips, “You should put a shot of whiskey in this.”

Ling smirked. “I’ll see what I can do. I think we’ve still got the bottle Ed sent.”

“You still have most of the bottle Ed sent,” Greed corrected him. He would know.

“I see you still haven’t had the tea my alkahestrists made for you.”

Greed glanced over at the now cold cup of tea on his bedside table, then back to Ling, eyes narrowed. “It smells weird.”

“Can you even smell anything? I thought you’d still be clogged up.” Ling leaned over in the chair he’d pulled up and inspected the tea. 

“I can smell enough to know that shit’s suspicious.”

“It’s not suspicious, Greed.” Ling sighed, exasperated. “It’s medicinal. Do you want Mei to come in here and lecture you into taking your medicine again?”

Greed grimaced. No, he did not. He loved the kid, really, but she could be damn persistent when she got down to business. Medicine was her specialty, after all. He’d thought she might actually stab him if he didn’t follow her bed arrest orders. Not that he needed much persuading; he’d nearly pulled a Ling and passed out in the middle of a hallway a few days earlier, and that had been enough to convince him he should probably be horizontal for a while.

“How are you feeling?” Ling asked. In the time it took for Greed to reflect on Mei’s potential lecture, he had stood and handed the tea to a servant in the hallway so it could be reheated, and he was back in his seat now. Out of all his symptoms, the brain fog might be Greed’s least favorite part of being sick.

“Terrible. Thanks for asking.” Greed attempted to slump back into his nest of pillows and blankets without spilling his lemon drink all over himself.

“I’m surprised it’s hitting you this badly.” Ling propped his chin up contemplatively. “It was just a mild cold for me, and I was better in a couple days.”

“Yeah, well,” Greed paused to cough his lungs out. Ling sympathetically patted his back. “You have experience being sick,” Greed said once he’d composed himself again. “I can’t exactly blast the illness out of me with the Philosopher’s Stone anymore.”

Ling hummed lightly in thought. A knock came at the door, and he perked up. “Enter,” he said. To their surprise, it was not a servant who popped their head through the door, but rather Alphonse, wearing a mask on the lower half of his face and carrying a bowl of soup. Ling zeroed in on the bowl like a bloodhound. “Ooh! Is that ginger garlic soup?”

“It’s not for you!” Al said, laughing. “It’s for our patient here.”

“Gimme.” Greed made grabby hands for it, only remembering to set aside his drink after extending his arms. 

“Such unfair treatment,” Ling complained half-heartedly. “Where was my soup when I was sick?”

“I know for a fact that you had people waiting on you hand and foot that brought you a barrel’s worth of soup,” Al teased, handing the bowl to Greed.

“What if I just wanted soup from my friend Alphonse, did you think of that?” 

“If you want soup so badly, go down to the kitchen. I think they have some left over.”

“Maybe I will.” Ling stood from his chair and straightened his robes. “This is perfect timing, actually. I had a meeting I needed to attend anyway. Greed, you’re in Al’s hands now.”

“What, am I being babysat?” Greed grumbled.

“Yep!” Ling sang cheerily. He grinned and waved at them both and was out the door before Greed could complain any further.

“Royal pain in my ass,” Greed muttered. Al chuckled and replaced Ling in the chair at his bedside. Greed took a long sip of the soup and groaned happily when the ginger immediately punched him straight in the sinuses. “Fuck, this stuff is good.”

“I thought you’d like that.” Al’s eyes crinkled above his mask. It finally registered in Greed’s mind that he was wearing it, and he gestured to his own mouth.

“What’s up with the mask? Hiding from the guards or something?”

“No, I’m pretty sure my hair gives me away to everyone in the palace,” Al admitted. “Being without my body for so long kinda destroyed my immune system, so I’d rather not risk getting sick. No offense.”

“None taken.” Greed waved him off, taking another sip of his soup. “Trust me, I’m beginning to understand why humans hate being sick so much.”

“You really ended up with the short end of the stick, huh?” Al said sympathetically. “A brand new human body, but it means you haven’t built up an immune system since childhood.”

“You’re telling me.” Greed sighed. “You know, this isn’t really what I had in mind when I asked how to get a body like yours back when we met.”

Al tsked. “The armor couldn’t get sick, which I guess was convenient. But it also couldn’t enjoy delicious soup.”

“Fair enough. I guess being able to have soup partially makes up for being able to get sick.” Greed clumsily guided the noodles towards his mouth with his chopsticks. Temporarily sated and sinuses feeling more clear, he sat back and smacked his lips. “So what’s the verdict, doc?”

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna die,” Al declared brightly.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Greed said, tone dry.

“Are you still feeling feverish?” 

“Nah. I felt shitty when I woke up, but I think I’m past it now.”

“And you’re coughing phlegm up?” Al asked. Greed’s grimace was answer enough. “I think you’re probably past the worst of it. You might have a cough for a while, but you’ll probably be back to functioning in a couple days.” Greed sighed in relief, only for Al to ruin his mood by adding, “But I think you’re gonna have to drink the tea Mei prescribed you.”

Greed groaned. “But it smells like dirt!”

“There are lots of nutrients in dirt!” Al said cheerfully. Greed narrowed his eyes at him.

“Are you fucking with me?”

Al grinned and didn’t answer his question. “I’ll ask Mei if we can add other helpful herbs to mask the taste. How’s that sound?” Greed grumbled and slumped lower in his blanket mound, but he didn’t argue further. Al took his bowl and put it on the bedside table beside his lemon drink. “I have to head to the library, but Mei will probably be around in a couple hours to check on you. Get some rest, alright?”

Greed grunted and gave him a thumbs up, already struggling to keep his eyes open. The satisfying warmth of the soup in his belly and the coziness of the softest pillows in the palace (he checked) were conspiring against him to make it nearly impossible to resist taking a nap. He was pretty sure he heard Al snicker at him, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care. Having a human immune system sucked ass, but at least he had his people looking out for him. Being human wasn’t all bad.