Slang Resources

Coughing, temp taking and "Hold me" for Victuuri :)

Sorry this took like 3000 years to do! I hope you like it!

～～～

(Caretaker’s pov)

“It’s okay, Victor. Just try and breathe. This will be over soon,” Yuuri tries to console the sick man next to him, an arm wrapped supportively around his back.

Victor doesn’t respond to Yuuri’s words, only continues to cough, a breathtaking fit that has Yuuri wincining with the intensity of it. Victor’s cough had come with his cold, both hitting him a couple of days ago. Victor’s fever had gradually gotten worse, and his coughs started sounding wetter and deeper, leaving him breathless and exhausted by the time his fits are over.

Victor hasn’t accepted much of the food Yuuri has offered, and with the force of Victor’s coughing, Yuuri is reluctant to force him to eat in case he ends up bringing it back up. Victor has hardly even been able to sleep, woken up by the incessant fits. Yuuri wakes with him every time, slinging his arm around Victor’s too-warm body and hauling him upright so he can breathe better.

Coughs pour and pour from Victor’s lips as they sit on the bed, and after a particularly rough sounding one, he finally catches his breath. With a shaky exhale, he lowers the tissue he had been holding against his mouth and tiredly tosses it in the direction of the waste bin. It doesn’t make it in, but there are more important things to worry about. Like Victor, who is leaning onーor more accurately, slumping overーYuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri feels the rise and fall of Victor’s chest as he takes panting, shallow breaths. His skin burns where it makes contact with Yuuri. Yuuri kisses his head and caresses his cheek, not missing the shiver that runs through Victor’s body as he does so.

“You’re fever hasn’t gone down at all…” Yuuri says, frowning. “I’m sorry you’re so sick.”

Sorry is an understatement. Victor has been miserable the entirety of this cold. He doesn’t seem like himself, and Yuuri just wants him well. Whenever Yuuri meets his eyes, they’re dull and glassy with fever, rather than that usual sparkling and stunning shade of blue. Whenever he kisses Victor, it’s on his burning forehead to asses the temperature, rather than on that heart-shaped mouth Yuuri loves so much and aches to see.

“Is there anything I can get you? Anything I can do that will help you feel better?” Yuuri offers.

The answer he gets in response is a weakly whimpered “hold me,” as Victor trembles against him. Without another word, Yuuri does. He holds Victor tight, rubbing his back and whispering soothing words of comfort until his eyes droop with exhaustion and sleep takes him once more.

～～～

(Sickie’s pov)

Yuuri is saying something to Victor, but the only thought that registers on his mind right now is the pain of the coughs scraping his abused throat. His lungs burn with the effort, his skin burns with fever, and his eyes burn from lack of sleep.

Yuuri has his arm around Victor, keeping him upright as he holds a tissue in front of his mouth and tries to eject the fluid from his lungs. Victor knows he’ll get over this cold faster if he does, but trying to do so is painful, to say the least. Still, he squeezes his eyes shut and lets the coughs tear up his throat.

After what feels like an eternity, the fit ends and Victor is at last able to breathe. He takes in short and rapid inhales, desperately trying to prevent another fit before it has a chance to start. The used tissue is tiredly tossed at the trash bin.

Victor is heavily weakened from the virus, sleep deprived, and on top of that these seemingly endless fits leave him panting and low on oxygen. He hardly even realizes he’s collapsed against Yuuri until an arm is gently rubbing his back and Yuuri is placing a kiss on top of Victor’s aching head which is resting on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Now that the latest fit is over and the haze of pain is (mostly) gone, Victor becomes more aware of his situation. He feels the sweltering heat his body is giving off, made no better by Yuuri so close to him. Despite the heat though, he has no desire to let go. Victor needs Yuuri close, needs the comfort that comes from the contact, no matter how hot and miserable he currently is.

He’s sure he looks even worse than he feels. Heavy bags are stamped under his eyes, weighing them down and begging him rest. A persistent headache pulses agonizingly in his skull. His high fever is noticeable in the bright red branded on his cheeks, bringing out the paleness of his complexion. Victor can feel it all, and he’s sure Yuuri can see it too.

And yet, Yuuri has stayed by his side, despite the mess he is. Yuuri has been so loving, getting Victor whatever he needs, taking such good care of himーeven on the odd occasions Victor’s fevered brain causes him to snap irritably at his caretaker. (He regrets it immediately after, more than once breaking down into tearful apologies.)

Yuuri has been nothing but kind, keeping Victor upright and easing the pressure on his chest, running his cool fingers through Victor’s messy and greasy hair as the coughs are pushed past his chapped lips.

Yuuri has been completely compassionate. Like now, as he caresses Victor’s cheek with his cool fingers, expresses his sympathy at Victor’s misery and asks if there’s anything he can do for him.

Victor whimpers out a feeble “hold me”, and just as soon as the plea leaves his mouth, Yuuri is tightening his arms around Victor as he embraces him. The heat is a bit much, but it’s bearable for the blissful feeling that is Yuuri once again petting his hair and whispering sweetly and softly until Victor is eventually eased back to sleep.

～～～

This was written for the two pov’s drabble challenge which can be found here!

About the chest:

Placing one's hand on the chest of someone who has a bad cough, in a soothing, warming, protective gesture. They might put their own hand over it, giving it a slight squeeze as they keep coughing, holding it like a talisman, a life line

The chest of a character shaking violently with sobbing. OR with a frantic buildup to a sneeze. Or both

Collarbones and neck glistening with feverish sweat, chest rising and falling a bit too fast with troubled breaths

Putting something warm, like a warm water bottle, a warm towel or such against the chest of a sick character who has a bad cough

Feeling the hard, loud heartbeat of a feverish person when hugging them

A sick character falling asleep with a hand holding a handkerchief on their chest

Shirt pervert bonus: just the look of a shirt covered chest when someone is sick in bed. A nightshirt, a pajama shirt (light pinstripe on white, or such), just... shirt !!!

Crimson and Noire, Chapter 1.

Page 1 < Page 19 > Next [02/15]

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Art by: DK Saikou (Instagram)

Coordinated by: Scarlett-writes (tumblr)

Story by: 11JJ11 (ao3)

I love when sickie shows small signs that they’re frustrated about being sick.

Like, a light groan after a sneeze. A sharp string of curses when fever chills pick up again. A deep sigh as they massage their pounding forehead.

This is a super SUPER late birthday fic for @shiveringsickies who’s wonderful and amazing and deserves all the good things in life.

*

The week before finals is, by far, the absolute most stressful event in anyone’s academic career. Add in being a complete perfectionist, and you’re in for an especially rough time.

Shiro is in that boat right now - alternating between pulling all nighters and sleeping for only a couple of hours. By the time Friday rolls around, he’s bone-tired and more than ready to sleep for a year straight. Except, he has to work, and he still feels like he has so much to study that he’s not sure when he’ll be able to actually sleep.

“Dude, you look beat,” Hunk says, raising a brow.

“Yeah…well…it’s finals week,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes sleepily, “why don’t you look like you’re about to fall asleep?”

“My finals finished two days ago…and then I slept for an entire day and a half.”

“How? Finals week doesn’t start until Monday.”

“I’m graduating tomorrow,” he grins.

“Oh right…congrats, man. That’s awesome,” Shiro says, shooting him a weak smile.

Hulk grimaces, “when’s the last time you slept?”

“Uh…I think I’ve been up for thirty two hours.”

“Shiro.”

“I know, I know…I’m pretty sure I’ve only slept about ten hours this week.”

“You need to sleep. Go home.”

“Can’t…I have to work.”

“I’m your boss, did you forget that?” Hunk grins.

“But-”

“-No buts. Seriously, I’ll get someone to cover your shift, we’ll be fine. Everyone is busy studying for finals, I really don’t think there will be many people needing the RA on duty. Go home and sleep.”

“Okay,” Shiro mumbles, “sleep sounds nice.”

“I’ll bet it does. Let me know if you need anything.”

*

When Shiro wakes up, his entire body aches with an intensity that nearly brings tears to his eyes. He feels so aggressively awful that he doesn’t really know…what…to do. He’s freezing, it feels like there’s ice water in his veins, and he can’t stop shivering.

He rolls onto his back, trying to ignore how raw and swollen his throat feels, and how much pressure he feels in his sinuses and behind his eyes. He sniffles, rubbing at his nose as he blinks heavily - he’s not entirely sure what day it is, but he just wants to go back to sleep.

Shiro forces himself out of bed anyways, because if the dizzy, light-headed feeling is anything to go by, he needs to try and eat something. He pulls the blankets around his shoulders and shuffles out into the living room area, muffling a cough into one of the corners of the blanket.

Lance is sitting on the couch, reading one of the books from his literature class when Shiro walks out.

“Are you alright?” Lance frowns, eyebrows furrowing when he takes in Shiro’s appearance.

“Umb…I think I’mb sick,” he rasps, voice weak and thick with congestion.

“Yeah, no shit, Shiro. You’re shivering, come sit down, what do you need?”

“I wandted sombe food…and mbaybe tea. Mby throat is killing mbe,” he grunts, dropping down onto the couch and curling into himself. He readjusts the blanket so that he’s laying underneath it.

“What sounds good?”

“Ndothing really…i’mb dizzy, though.”

“You’ve been living on coffee and energy drinks the last week. You’re probably way dehydrated.”

“Probably,” he mumbles, drawing his knees to his chest as he shivers again.

Lance rests his hand on Shiro’s forehead, “shit…no wonder you’re shivering so much, you’re burning up.”

“Thought so…what day is it?”

“Saturday night.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s eight.”

“Are you serious?”

“…Um…yeah? Why would I lie?”

“I wasted the endtire day,” he groans, “I have to study.”

“You have studied - all week - and now you’re sick. You need to get some sleep.”

“I kndow,” Shiro sniffles, “I’mb freezing…cand I have andother blanket?”

“You never admit you’re sick,” Lance frowns, walking over to the other side of the room to grab him another one, “what gives?”

“I feel awful,” he mumbles, pressing his face into the cushions. Lance drapes a blanket over him, which doesn’t seem to help him feel any less cold, and it doesn’t make the shivers abate at all.

“Yeah,” Lance frowns, feeling his cheek, “I want to get a read on your temperature, hold on.”

“Ugh…okay,” he groans.

His phone rings, and it takes a couple of minutes of him trying to figure out what’s buzzing before he realizes it’s his phone. His brain feels sluggish and hazy, and he almost just ignores the call.

But, he figures he probably shouldn’t do that, so he fumbles with it for a few moments before he’s finally able to answer.

“Hello?” He croaks, rubbing at his forehead as he tries not to cough all over his phone.

“Hey, man. You know you’re supposed to be working, right? Keith just called, he said nobody can get ahold of you,” Hunk says.

“I…what?”

“Are you alright?”

“I just woke up, I’mb ndot-”

“Oh shit,” Hunk hisses, “you sound awful. Stay home, don’t worry about your shift, we’ll get it handled.”

“Thanks,” Shiro mumbles, still entirely too confused to understand what just happened.

He scrubs a hand over his face, letting out a stuffy little cough as he hunkers down deeper into the blankets.

God, why is it so cold?

“Okay, here,” Lance says, handing him a thermometer, “stick it underneath your tongue. I’m going to make you some tea.”

“What?”

“Thermometer under your tongue,” Lance repeats, a frown crossing his face, “you okay?”

“Dizzy,” he mumbles, sticking it in his mouth.

When it beeps, Lance takes it from him and walks into the kitchen.

“103.4. Holy shit, dude.”

“I dond’t feel very well.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Lance hisses, grabbing him some medicine. “You’re going to take this and we’re going to watch a movie until you fall asleep. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Shiro mumbles sleepily, “sounds good.”

I like it when a whumpee has to be told that they’re sick or hurt upon waking up. Like, they’re so deeply confused that the full extent of their condition doesn’t even register until someone says “hey, easy now. You’ve been very sick.”

We obviously love the stoic character becoming a bit soft and vulnerable when they get sick.

But. What about a stoic, stern, cynical character, who becomes soft and vulnerable when someone else is sick? Forehead feels, deep frowns, troubled sighs through their nose, unnecessarily worried glances.

How’s… the cold? in a strangely tense, uneasy tone.

Better…

A hand on the forehead. Liar. You have a fever. And you don’t sound better at all. Chewing their lip, looking away. Almost angry. Helpless. So vulnerable.

um, im fucking loved this short whump fic by @secret-bug-pain-blog so i drew some art of it <3

Sick caretaker Keith

I wrote this last night+ this morning and haven’t really reread this. I’ll do reread and fix process later. It might take a while.

A cold had slowly started to take over Keith. Maybe the first symptoms he noticed besides his raspy throat was his lips getting dry and starting to sting. Soon, watery mucus came down his nose and he started to feel more tired and just generally crappy.  They were supposed to go to the space mall that day to find some spare parts and other supplies but Keith would’ve rather stayed behind. He didn’t think his cold was really all that bad and didn’t want people to think he wanted attention or was overreacting over something minor. Not going without giving a good reason was not an option since Coran had already given everyone a list of things they were charge of finding.  Others, especially Lance, would just think Keith was being selfish and lazy.

  Keith didn’t want to tell about his cold, not even to Shiro but somehow he instinctively started searching for Shiro. Keith found Shiro talking with Allura.

  “Shiro, you should stay behind and get some rest. You’re clearly ill,” Allura told to pale man holding his head.

   “Can’t argue with that. I’ll go back to the bed,” Shiro told hoarsely. He swayed a little and placed his robot arm against the wall to help him stay upright.

  Shiro was… Sick? Well, when looking at his pale, sweaty face, it was kinda obvious but how Keith hadn’t noticed that before? “Shiro, what’s wrong?” Keith asked, walking closer to Shiro and Allura.

  “Keith, can you help Shiro back to his room? I’ll go get something to bring his fever down,” Allura told.

  “You have a fever?” Keith asked from Shiro when he lifted Shiro’s arm over his own shoulder.

  “It seems so,” Shiro replied and coughed a little.

  Keith walked Shiro back to his room and after Shiro had lied down, Keith tried to find out if there was anything Shiro needed. “Shiro, are you thirsty? Nauseous? Cold? I- Do you want me to… Get you something?” Keith inquired.

  “No, I think I’m okay as long as I lie down. You can go back to the others, they probably will leave to the mall soon,” Shiro told.

  “I’ll stay here with you,” Keith stated clearly sounding eager to stay behind. Good thing Shiro was a bit dazed and didn’t find that weird.

  “Thanks,” Shiro told.

  “I’ll… Go to get you some water,” Keith said and left the room. When he was walking towards the kitchen to get Shiro some water pouches, he felt his nose prickling. Keith sniffed, then gasped quickly, closing his eyes shortly then opening his right eye and covered his nose and mouth. Keith let out few stifled sneezes.  His nose started to run and his hand got wet. Keith gave a small, displeased groan before wiping his hand to his shirt.

  Keith was supposed to grab water for Shiro but he himself felt thirsty and sat down the floor to drink before taking out multiple water pouches to take back for Shiro. Keith felt shitty but that was probably nothing compared to how Shiro was currently feeling. After all, Shiro had trouble even standing on his feet and Keith probably would be able even to fight if he had to.

  When Keith returned, Allura was already there. She had placed a cold compress on Shiro’s forehead. She had brought some water pouches too. Keith placed the ones he brought in the same pile.

  “Keith, I thought you were going to the space mall with the others,” Allura told.

  “I’ll stay here and take care of Shiro,” Keith said.

 “I guess I’ll leave him to you then,” Allura replied and left the room.

  Since Shiro was asleep, there wasn’t really much Keith could do. He just waited besides Shiro’s bed, sniffling quietly. When Keith started to get bored from sitting still, he stood up and stared Shiro’s sleeping face. Keith thought he should re-drench the towel to make it cold again. He tried to be careful not to wake Shiro up when taking off the towel. Keith put the towel in a water-filled basin and shuddered when his hands came in touch with the ice cold water.

  Keith wringed the towel and placed it back on Shiro’s forehead. Keith rubbed his hands to warm them. The cold water had made his nose run again. The snot started to get thicker and Keith started to feel more congested.  

 “Tissues,” was the only thought in Keith’s mind when he left the room. He went to the bathroom, blew his nose and took the whole box of tissues with him. He couldn’t blow his nose in Shiro’s room since it made too much noise but he could probably leave the room for that or something. And say he brought the tissues for Shiro, not himself.

  When Keith returned, Shiro was still asleep. Keith leaned his back against Shiro’s bed. After sitting still long, his eyes started to close by themselves. Keith fell asleep but after a short while, got shaken up awake.

  “Keith, don’t sleep on the floor,” Shiro told.

  “Shiro… Sniff..Do you feel any better? Did your… Fever go down?” Keith asked with slightly nasal voice and touched Shiro’s forehead. It didn’t feel hot. “It did. That’s good.”

  “I don’t think you should worry about me now, Keith, climb up next to me,” Shiro told. Shiro was too dizzy to stand up but he was worried about Keith. Keith was shivering.

  “N-no, I’m fine, I just dozed off from boredom,” Keith said.

  “Please?” Shiro asked, but his tone was demanding.

  Keith gave up. He crawled under Shiro’s blanket. Shiro put his arms around Keith. Keith’s face was against Shiro’s chest. Keith groaned tiredly. His nose began to itch again.  Keith tried to push himself away from Shiro. “N-no, l-ah-let go-I’m-Uah-Ha-H’KSHA! Ung-H’KSKH!”

  Shiro felt Keith twitching against from the force of the sneezes and something wet on his shirt.

  Keith realized to his horror Shiro’s shirt was snotty. “I-I’m sorry… I tried to warn you but uh- I- I’ll clean it up.. I’ll get you another shirt I- H’CKSH!”

  “Keith it’s fine, just stay down,” Shiro told.

  “It’s not fine, it’s disgusting,” Keith replied.  “There’s some tissues on the table, let me grab them.”

  Shiro let go of Keith. Keith stood up and took bunch of tissues. He wiped off the snot on Shiro’s shirt, then blew his nose on a different tissue.  Having time to collect his thoughts and wake up properly, Keith remembered that he was in charge of taking care of Shiro.

  “Shiro, are you hungry…? ” Keith asked.

  “Keith, don’t-”

  “I’M FINE,” Keith snapped and immediately regretted yelling at Shiro. “Sorry, I… I’ll go get you something to eat,” Keith apologized and exited the room before Shiro had time to reply to him.

  Thinking that maybe food goo wasn’t really something to give for a sick person, Keith started to go through the ingredients Hunk had gathered. Nothing seemed familiar. Then Keith remembered there was left over food in the fridge, he could try to make a soup using those.

  Keith put a pot on the stove and filled it with water, then started to taste test the foods to decide what to put in the soup. He used some spaghetti hunk made, some space vegetables and some kind of meat. Keith tasted the soup and it didn’t really taste much like anything, which probably was better than space goo. He poured the soup on a bowl and put a spoon in it, then took the soup for Shiro.

  “I didn’t know we had soup,” Shiro told.

  “I made it using leftovers from fridge,” Keith said.

  “Thank you,” Shiro said. He took a spoonful of the soup and made a weird face. Keith noticed this.

  “Is… There something wrong with the soup?” Keith asked.

  “Um no, it’s fine,” Shiro said, trying to spare Keith’s feelings. After all, he had gone all that trouble to prepare the soup for Shiro. But it tasted a bit weird. Not as bad as the space goo but Keith had put some kind of fruit salad in it.

  Keith took the bowl away from Shiro and tasted the soup again. It still didn’t taste much like anything and he was wondering what was wrong with it.

  Shiro realized what had been gone wrong with the soup. The cold had numbed Keith’s sense of taste.

 “I’ll… Go warm up some leftovers instead…” Keith finally told. But before he could leave, Allura entered the room.

  “I thought I should come check on Shiro. Do you still have a fever?” Allura asked and placed her hand on Shiro’s forehead. “It seems so.”

  “Well, it sure did go back up again then,” Shiro told, remembering how Keith earlier told Shiro that his fever had gone down. Seeing Keith trying to stealthily exit the room with the soup, Shiro realized the same thing Keith probably had just figured out. “Keith, come back here, let Allura check your temperature too.”

  “Keith?” Allura asked. Since she had been worried about Shiro, she hadn’t paid much attention to Keith before. Now she thought she should’ve. Keith quickly exited the room but Allura got a glimpse of his flushed face. She dashed after Keith and brought him back to Shiro’s room.

Allura took the soup bowl from Keith and placed it on the table. Then she made him sit next to Shiro’s bed and placed her hand on both Keith’s and Shiro’s foreheads. Keith’s fever was actually higher than Shiro’s. That would explain why Keith thought Shiro’s fever had gone down.

  “Human illnesses seem to be transmitted quite fast,” Allura said.

  “No, not this fast, Keith, why didn’t you say anything before?” Shiro asked.

  “Because you seemed so sick, it felt dumb to complain about a small cold…” Keith muttered.

  Shiro sighed. “Listen, just because someone else seems to be more ill than you, it doesn’t mean you should downplay your own illness like this.”

  “Sorry,” Keith told, unable to come up with anything else to defend himself.

  “Okay, Keith, you go to the bed too,” Allura commanded.

  Keith grabbed some tissues and water pouches before heading to his room. He sat on his the bed, wrapped his blanket around himself and leaned his back against the wall. Keith poked the straw on the water pouch and just sat in his bed, sipping the water.

Allura came in with a water basin and forced Keith to lie down so she could place the cold towel on his forehead. Keith wasn’t sure if it was just a coincidence but when the cold wet towel touched the bridge of his nose, he rolled on his side and sneezed, dropping the towel off. Keith grabbed a tissue and blew his nose and just left the used tissue on his bed.

  Allura placed the towel back on Keith, this time a bit higher so it would only cover his forehead. After making sure Keith would be okay on his own, Allura left the room and leaved Keith to rest.

  Keith was wondering how he managed to fall asleep earlier on Shiro’s room since his runny nose was not letting him to rest. After an hour, he gave up, threw the towel on the water basin and sat up, bundled in his blanket, leaning against the wall. Keith closed his eyes and this time, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.