#dizziness

[whump-kia]

exhausted leader whumpee leaning their forehead against the wall, taking deep and unsteady breaths to force away the dizziness. feverish but leading regardless, directing their team with quiet orders. a pause between phrases to gasp in another breath, leaving them feeling more faint than before. but their team needs them. they can rest once everyone is safe, but for now, they close their eyes to focus, steady their trembling fingers, and lead their family to safety.

#whump #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump community #leader whumpee #leader whump #exhaustion #exhaustion whump #dizziness #feeling faint

[aceofwhump]

"In that moment I knew the jury was mine but then, out of no where came this panic that something was terribly wrong. It's taken me nine months to understand what happened next."

The unaired pilot of "Rex is Not Your Lawyer"

#whumpedit #whump #david tennant #rex alexander #rex is not your lawyer #my gifs #mod post #panic attack #can't breathe #numbness #blurry vision #dizziness #collapsing #heavy breathing #emotional whump

[cosmiccripple]

me as soon as i get out of the shower:

[id: a side view of a dark grey clipart person lying down with a white background, the arm is outlined in white and positioned in front of the torso, the visible leg is raised above the body, resting on a rounded dark grey block]

#physical disability #actually disabled #disability #invisible disability #chronically ill #crip punk #physically disabled #cpunk #chronic disability #chronic illness #chronic fatigue #chronic pain #dizziness #presyncope #potsie #pots #heat intolerance #disabled #disabilities #chronic illness memes #disability memes #image description in alt

[federaliszt]

Dizziness

Whumpee on the run with a serious blood loss problem, who needs to cross a narrow footbridge or a rooftop railing over a very steep drop. Holding their abdomen as blood seeps through their shirt, coating their fingers. People behind them, closing in on them, shouting at them not to take another step, screaming it really -

But for whatever reason, whumpee knows they've got to keep going, whether to outrun whumper's goons, or because they think they've got to outrun them (maybe the blood loss or trauma is playing tricks on their mind right now).

Whumpee is already swaying as they take their first too-hurried steps to cross the chasm. By the midpoint of the bridge, their vision is going black and their limbs are flailing as they try to catch their footing. Another wave of dizziness hits them right as they just barely manage to steady themselves, glancing back to see the goons closing in, glancing downwards to see the several hundred foot drop open up underneath them -

"Whumpee!!"

- but it's Carer's voice screaming their name from the other side that has them whirling around a little too fast, trying to catch sight of that person they've missed for so long -

And unfortunately for them, that's one whirl too many, and a half second later, they've lost their footing and gone flying over the edge, legs flying through open air.

Only barely able to catch hold of a protruding root or railing with one blood-slickened hand -

"Whumpee, HOLD ON!! I'm coming!!!"

#whump #whump prompt #whumpril2024 #whumprilday6 #dizziness #i love dizziness sm #its great on its own but its even better when combined with other problems

[whumpetywhump]

3 Will Be Free - Ep. 9

#3 will be free #thai drama #gunshot wound #on the run #bleeding #blood loss #bloody hands #dizziness #stumbling #self treatment #field medicine #bandages #makeshift bandages #collapse #passing out #collapse into arms #concern #unconscious #hugging #crying #tay tawan #joss wayar #whump #thai whump #asian whump

[lightasthesun]

being notoriously bad at keeping yourself hydrated means struggling to identify whether you're feeling dizzy because you haven't yet drunk enough water that day or because your body is telling you to slow tf down lol

#disability #dizziness

[cuddlepilefics]

HI! I love your stories and I don't know if you've already done it (if so sorry in advance) but you could do a story with Felix who is sick (migraine, stomach cramps whatever you want) but stubborn and only admits it when he hurts himself due to a fall during training and others (specific;chan and hyunjin pls) take care of him??? pls and thank you ❤️

Dizziness

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregivers: Chan & Hyunjin

Prompt @whumpril

No one’s POV.:

Felix had already felt a little odd when he had gone to bed the previous night, muscles achy with exhaustion that didn’t even feel justified considering their schedule for the day hadn’t been that draining. Though he had gotten a decent amount of sleep, the exhaustion hadn’t improved at all and it took all his willpower to get out of bed. At least he was lucky enough to not run late, unlike Minho, Seungmin and Jeongin, who completely missed their friend’s struggle in their rush to get ready and out of the dorm on time. With how tired he was, Felix would’ve almost fallen asleep on the drive to the company building if it wasn’t for the weird swimmy feeling in his head. Every time the car took a turn, the Aussie’s head was sent spinning and watching the buildings pass by did little to anchor him. Since looking out the window barely helped at all, Felix eventually gave up and closed his eyes, resting his head on Hyunjin’s shoulder.

Thinking the younger was falling asleep, Hyunjin gently rubbed Felix’ knee, which earned him a low hum of acknowledgement. In reality, the Aussie was trying his best not to get carsick but his stomach was starting to feel a little fluttery by the time they arrived at the company building. “You good?”, Hyunjin whispered as he helped his dongsaeng out of the car. Still a little unsteady on his feet, Felix yawned: “’m tired.” - “Maybe you can nap between the recordings”, the older chuckled as they made their way to the studio. Luckily, their schedule was starting off with a recording session and they’d have dance practice after lunch, so Felix still had some time to properly wake up and get into the groove. He could only hope it’d be enough because he doubted he’d be able to dance well anytime soon.

The mood in the studio was a little tense because adrenaline was still running high in Minho, Seungmin and Jeongin after the hectic morning they had had, so Felix didn’t dare ask if it was okay for him to lie down for a bit. His head was beginning to hurt as he read over his lyrics, the words blurring in front of his eyes. At least, the nausea he had experienced during the drive was slowly dissipating but he still didn’t have an appetite when Chan asked if they should get anything for breakfast.

Thinking that having something in his stomach might quell the remaining queasiness, Felix figured he could just have some fruit and crackers and he even volunteered to go to the store with Jeongin to get breakfast for everyone. His main intention was to get out of the stuffy studio, hoping the fresh morning air would settle his stomach and maybe wake him up. It did turn out to be a mistake though because he still felt far from steady on his feet but he didn’t want to worry Jeongin when the maknae was still reeling from that morning’s events. Pretending to just be in a bit of a cuddly mood, Felix linked their arms and held onto Jeongin’s arm to steady himself.

The trip to the store had taken more out of Felix than he would have expected but he was glad that he had been able to get out of the studio for a bit because the tension and chaos had almost driven him mad. Once they had sorted out everyone’s food orders, Felix plopped down in his seat and suppressed a groan. Nobody seemed to notice how quiet the Aussie was as he slowly nibbled his crackers. The crackers settled alright but by the time Felix finished his banana, his stomach was in knots. He had been determined to finish both though because he really wanted to take something for his worsening headache and knew he shouldn’t do so on an empty stomach.

“Are you okay, Lixxie?”, Chan asked softly, “You’re so quiet today, mate. Like, something about your energy just feels off.” – “I’m tired”, Felix chuckled, though the little, forced laugh aggravated his headache. He didn’t want to worry Chan, so he wouldn’t let the older know that he wasn’t feeling well at the moment. Especially because he didn’t think he was sick, just having a bit of an off day. Ruffling his dongsaeng’s hair, Chan smiled: “Alright, speak up if you need anything though. Had you said something earlier, you could have taken a nap here but now we’re short on time and need to leave for dance practice soon.” – “Hyung, it’s nothing really”, Felix insisted, too stubborn to crack now because he could’ve asked about taking a nap earlier. It was his own fault that he hadn’t. Poking Chan’s side, he reminded: “I’m tired, not dying. We’ve all been tired before.” – “I guess so”, Chan sighed, getting back to work.

Felix was feeling more miserable by the minute but he decided that he had missed his chances to speak up. That didn’t mean that he would turn down the painkillers Seungmin offered him. The vocalist had noticed how Felix flinched whenever there was a loud noise and pressed long enough for the Aussie to admit to having a headache. Felix could only hope that his stomach too would settle once the pain improved or else he had no idea how he’d get through their dance practice session.

Luckily, his headache did improve and though his stomach still felt funny, he was only the slightest bit queasy. What Felix hadn’t considered though, was the intense vertigo that hit him the moment he got to his feet to head down to the practice rooms. Squeezing his eyes shut, he clutched Hyunjin’s arm for support and was grateful that the older wrapped his arms around his waist to steady him. “Woah, you good?”, Hyunjin frowned worriedly, hesitant to step back even after his dongsaeng had found his balance. Felix nodded but it was barely convincing, still, he muttered: “Got up too fast. We’ve been sitting for too long.” – “Well, guess it’s a good thing we’ll be moving for the next couple of hours”, Hyunjin hummed, patting the Aussie’s shoulder. And boy were they moving.

Felix didn’t know how he did it but he had made it through the first two hours of dance practice with only minor slip ups. Sure, his moves weren’t as sharp as they usually were but hey, that was still pretty good considering that he felt like he was dancing aboard a wonky ship that was tossed about a stormy sea by relentless waves crashing against its hall. His stomach was churning once again, almost as if he was getting motion sick from his own dance moves. Still, he had only gagged into his mouth once and had been able to turn away from his group, so that nobody noticed. When Minho eventually called a ten minute break, Felix didn’t take a single step more, shakily sitting down on the floor right where he had stood.

Chan seemed worried about Felix despite the younger’s best efforts to hide his struggle. By now, the boy was too out of it to notice Chan’s concern though. Felix’ stomach cramped horribly and it was almost impossible to move but somehow, he still managed to get to his feet and resume practice once the short break was over. How he was able to stay on his feet, the dancer didn’t know because his head spun and his vision blurred. Felix wasn’t even sure if his moves were on beat, not hearing the music over the ringing in his ears, and he also didn’t notice how he lost his balance, realizing a moment to late that the blurry picture was tipping sideways.

Without as much as an attempt at catching himself, Felix crumpled to the floor, the impact sending shock waves through his body and making his head pound. “Shit, you alright, mate?”, Chan frowned as he crouched next to his dongsaeng. Felix’ eyes seemed out of focus despite the leader being pretty sure that the boy hadn’t hit his head, which confused and worried the older greatly. Dazedly sitting up, Felix slurred: “Gonna be s-“ Before choking up his meager breakfast over his lap. He almost slumped over, had it not been for Chan catching him by the shoulders, steadying him as he retched. Hyunjin was by their side in an instant, carefully brushing Felix’ hair out of his face, impressed by how long it had gotten. Tugging the hair tie out of his hair, Hyunjin tied his dongsaeng’s hair into a messy ponytail and gently rubbed the younger’s back.

A few unproductive heaves later, Felix collapsed backwards and Chan slowly lowered him to the ground, so he wouldn’t hit his head. “You with us, Lix?”, the leader asked softly, taking the other’s hand and lifting up his arm to examine it. Humming in confirmation, Felix squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight off the unbearable dizziness that threatened to send his stomach over the edge again. It was only now that he was taking stock of his body that he felt warm liquid running down his arm and the moist warmth that soaked through the fabric of his pants. Realizing that his stomach contents were currently seeping through his pants, Felix tried to roll onto his side and gagged emptily. He couldn’t even really prop himself up because Chan was still holding onto his arm. Felix tugged in the arm in Chan’s grasp, whining hoarsely.

There were a few muffled voices in the background but Felix couldn’t decipher what anyone was saying until Chan’s calm voice right next to him promised: “It’s okay. Your elbow is bleeding though, so don’t put it on the floor. We wouldn’t want you getting any dirt into that wound.” Or vomit but Chan didn’t say that out loud. “His knee’s bleeding too, hyung”, Hyunjin mumbled and Felix could feel him tug on his soiled pants. Barely even lifting his head, the younger winced: “Could you stop, please?” The skin on his knee stung already and Hyunjin’s fussing was making it worse. “I’m sorry, do you think you can sit up and change into some clean shorts though?”, the older hummed, “If not, at least keep your eyes open, so we know you’re still conscious.” – “Dizzy”, Felix breathed but shakily sat up to wriggle out of his pants.

Taking a seat behind Felix, so his dongsaeng could lean against his chest, Chan whispered: “Did you hit your head or have you been dizzy before?” – “Been dizzy for a while. Wouldn’t have toppled over that easily if I hadn’t”, the dancer muttered but relaxed into his hyung’s arms. Minho had handed Chan a towel, so the eldest could wipe the sweat from Felix’ pale face, while Hyunjin had removed the younger’s vomit stained pants and was making quick work of cleaning the mess of his thighs, so he could patch up his knee. “Can you tell us how you’re feeling now?”, Chan hummed as he cupped Felix’ cheek, “And the truth please, no more, I’m-fine-just-tired-BS.” Drawing a deep breath, the other shuddered: “Dizzy an’ my head hurts. Stomach really doesn’t this merry-go-round.” – “Can I have your arm, please?”, Hyunjin asked softly once he had finished patching up Felix’ knee.

“How long have you felt like that?”, Chan continued, feeling his dongsaeng’s forehead, “You feel pretty warm and I don’t think that’s just because you’ve been dancing.” Leaning into the leader’s touch, Felix yawned: “Went to bed exhausted as hell and woke up feeling odd. Didn’t think I was sick though.” – “Well, I think you’re sick though”, the eldest countered with Hyunjin adding: “Same here.” The were quiet sounds of confirmation from the other members, making Felix sigh: “I guess. Just really wanna go home.” – “We’ll take you home”, Chan promised, “Could you sip some water first?” Weakly shaking his head, the younger admitted: “Wouldn’t stay down.” – “Okay, we’ll try later. Would you like some gum?”, Hyunjin offered, handing Felix a strip of gum when the boy nodded. He really wanted to get this awful taste off his tongue.

Minho lent Felix his spare pair of shorts and they hoisted the boy to his feet afterwards. Felix hadn’t been kidding when he said he was dizzy, almost tumbling down again if it hadn’t been for Chan and Hyunjin steadying him. “Easy there”, Chan shushed, rubbing Felix’ back when the younger slumped against his chest with a tired whimper. He really didn’t feel good at all and why was he still so dizzy? Clutching the leader’s shirt, Felix sniffled: “I really want my bed and not to get up anytime soon.” – “That sounds like a great plan actually”, Chan smiled. With how stubborn his dongsaeng had been earlier, he had already feared how difficult it would be to get him to rest but it seemed the young dancer was done putting up a fight. “Come on, let’s get you home and to bed”, Hyunjin whispered, taking Felix’ arm to guide him on their way.

#fanfic #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #sickfic #sick #stray kids #skz #emeto #whumpril2024 #whumprilday6 #dizziness #chanlix #hyunlix

[fictionalseraph]

Dizziness

Still gotta work

#tw ana shit #ana male #tw ana fast #tw ana diary #ana trigger #tw ed memes #tw ed implied #ed di3t #ed bllog #tw disordered thoughts #ed not sherran #dizziness #self h@rm

[scooby-doo-exploration]

happyzenmonk - Yosemite Nal Park, California, USA - No dizziness

#national parks #dizziness #cliffs #mountains #climbers #mountaineers #mountain climbers #yosemite #yosemite national park #usa #california #photos #photography #happyzenmonk #sports

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1126

Submitted by Anon - thanks!

Fantasy/medieval setting where Whumpee (preferable nobility or royalty) is being slowly poisoned. While dancing at an event, they feel fatigued and lightheaded, their lover is worried they're overworking themselves and tells them to slow their rhythm. They only realize something is wrong when Whumpee feels too dizzy at the ball and need to be supported out of the hall to keep their dignity and finally collapse in the hall/their room. Cue all the worry, protective rage etc.

#love it! #whump #writing #prompts #angst #poisoning #collapse #fighting to stay conscious #dancing #overworked #dizziness #fatigue #lightheadedness #fantasy whump #medieval whump

[whump-kia]

half delirious half dizzy laughing kills me every time. everything feels wrong, everything feels off, but they can't just sit there and deal with it--they have to be okay, so they laugh, and maybe it's a little high pitched or at the wrong moment and now they can't stop, doubled over and out of breath and finally realizing just how bad that fever/infection really is.

#whump #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump community #fever whump #hysterics #dizziness

[aceofwhump]

Broadchurch 1x07

#whumpedit #whump #broadchurch #alec hardy #david tennant #dizziness #dizzy #collapsing #stumbling #my gifs #mod post

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 6 - Dizziness

Look I think Mariano just thinks that being dizzy is fun, that's my one explanation for how he gets when he's drunk or oxygen deprived

TWs: suffocation, oxygen deprivation in a controlled environment, lab-whump adjacent but it's the military, a mage gets flustered about oxygen dep (but it's safe for work, he's just blushy)

Luis tapped his fingers against his arm, watching through the window of the testing room. They didn’t need to be sequestered away for this one–all advanced soldiers going to specialized branches would go through it eventually. Laredo sat at a school desk, leaned over the worksheet he’d been given. He tapped the mechanical pencil against his lips, pausing before circling another answer. 

Luis’ eyes flicked to the monitor in Manuel’s hands. His oxygen saturation was still respectable. He was halfway done with the sheet. 

“Thoughts?” He asked, looking to Manuel. 

Manuel hummed, glancing back to where Izan and Dimitri were sitting in the hallway, oxygen masks strapped to their faces. Their lips were still paler than either Luis or Manuel would’ve preferred, but they were recovering nicely. “I think he’s doing fine so far. He seems calmer than Dimitri was, and he’s matching my pace, at least.” 

“I agree.” Luis said. “And none of you have anything else to do today or tomorrow, as discussed. Just recovery.”

Manuel smiled, bright and quick. “Thank you for readjusting the schedule. Especially with how Laredo’s heart gets sometimes, I just don’t think it’d be wise for anyone to be doing a ton of cardio for a little while.”

“Of course. Thank you for staying on top of things.” 

The numbers on the monitor flashed yellow, cutting Manuel off from what he was going to say. He squinted at Laredo, whose writing had slowed down. He was starting to tilt to one side. “Ah, there it is.” Manuel said, marking down the time. “I wonder if he’ll be as coherent after this point?”

Dimitri spoke up, pulling the oxygen mask away for a moment. “If he’s more coherent than me on the third essay question I’ll fry his controller.”

“Keep breathing, Dimitri.” Luis scolded, shaking his head. 

They watched the seconds tick by, melting into minutes. Laredo tipped further and further, before eventually falling completely to the floor on his side, pencil dropping beside him. “Time! Releasing the seal.” Luis announced, unlatching the door and letting oxygen rush back in. 

He watched as Manuel hurried inside with the third of four oxygen tanks, kneeling and pressing the mask to Laredo’s face. He leaned down and spoke to him, patting his face to help him wake up. Just as Luis was starting to worry, Laredo jolted up with a groan and scrambled to his elbows, drawing a sincere laugh from Manuel and a gentle pat of his shoulder. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Izan felt the same way. Nice and slow, now, your brain is still restarting.” 

When Laredo could stand he let Manuel help him from the classroom, face red and unable to look Luis in the eye. “Alright Mariano,” Luis said, pointedly ignoring the way Izan elbowed Laredo’s bicep. “Your turn, then we can go back.” 

Mariano nodded, stepping inside the room and taking the last fresh worksheet. He picked up the pencil, sat down, and watched the window for his signal. When Luis resealed the door and the air began to drain from the room, Manuel waved a hand and gave Mariano a thumbs-up. The timer began to count.

The first few minutes were entirely uneventful, with Mariano steadily working his way down the page. He didn’t seem to stumble on anything in the first half, but when the oxygen reached its lowest point and his breathing started to get strained, Luis watched the youngest member seem to shift. 

Always so stoic and almost-uptight, he’d expected Mariano to get frustrated like Dimitri did. He expected agitated fingers running through dark hair, brows furrowed as his brain stopped being able to process things as easily. He expected a deep frown, or a scowl.

Instead, tension began to fall away from Mariano’s shoulders. He leaned against the top of the desk more, tilting his head almost lazily as he reread the last question on that side and underlined a part of it. He tapped the pencil against the paper, drawing a looping, repeating shape in the margin as he thought. When he finally seemed to have an answer, he just drew the line to the beginning of his sentence without picking up his pencil. 

Luis watched him flip the worksheet over to the math portion–Mariano loved math, Luis realized, because he beamed. His elevated mood seemed to be more than just subject-related though, because as he wrote in the section where his name went and drew another set of circles next to it, he started shaking and covering his mouth. 

Laughing, Luis realized. Something about this tickled Mariano to his very core, even as he started filling in the math questions. Every time it seemed like the giggle fit was over, it would rear its head again and he’d double over, head against the desk, and his shoulders would just shake. 

“How are his levels?” Luis asked, grinning himself. 

It seemed like it wasn’t just Luis who found it contagious, since Manuel was fighting to keep his expression even. “In the yellow, and dropping, but at least he’s still in a good mood.” Mariano had just decided to keep his head on the desk as he wrote, glasses tilted from the pressure against the hard surface.

As his hypoxia continued, Mariano tried to pick himself up. He’d almost finished both sides, on par with the others. He glanced back up at the top of the paper though, and that seemed to fully do him in. He started laughing again, a faint, wheezy thing where every inhale was a desperate struggle. 

He just couldn’t get any more air, though, and with his eyes fluttering he slumped into unconsciousness against the desk, pencil rolling to the floor. 

“Alright, time. Releasing the seal.” Luis repeated the process from earlier, and as oxygen rushed back in, Luis accompanied Manuel inside. He had to see what had gotten Mariano so giggly. As he helped Mariano to the floor and Manuel got the mask on his face, Luis got a peek at the paper. 

Instead of his name, in not-cursive lettering that gradually dipped beneath the line, he’d accidentally written “Marimo”, then drew a wobbly circle nearby, with tinier circles coming up from it, and a little simple smiling face. As Mariano groaned and started to wake up again, Luis folded up the paper and pocketed it. That had been the happiest he’d ever seen Mariano, especially since joining the war mage program.

He almost wondered if a moss ball in a tiny aquarium would be a decent birthday gift for the teenager.

@cyberwhumper @whumperofworlds @inscrutable-shadow @honeybees-125 @bxtterflystxtches @lektricwhump (SORRY LEKTRIC-WHUMP I'M SURE YOU'RE SUPER COOL)

#whump #whumpril2024 #whumprilday6 #day 6 #dizziness #oxygen deprivation #suffocation #military whump #modern au #mage of violence #the leader #dimitri #manuel #laredo #izan

[whumpshots]

Whumptober #7

Trope of the day: “Can you hear me?”

_

The words in their head are getting louder and louder, nothing seems to stop them. It takes whumpee another few minutes to finally fully regain their consciousness, the voice getting louder. It sounds familiar, but they can't make out whose it is ... not yet.

“Can you hear me?”

Finally, crystal clear words as whumpee cracks one eye open, a sillhouette in front of them.

"Kid, it's me," the voice continues as they try to blink and grunt because of the sudden pain.

"Good, open your eyes, don't fall unconscious on me again, buddy." Whumpee finally realises it's caretaker and their body relaxes a bit at the sudden realisation.

“Can you hear me?”, they repeat and whumpee manages to move their had a little, a nod indicating that they finally do. "Great news ... this will hurt a little, but you have to stay awake, okay?"

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober2023 #whumptober #trope of the day #“Can you hear me?” #no.7 #whumpee #caretaker #injured whumpee #unconscious whumpee #fighting unconsciousness #dizziness #whumpshots

[whumpetywhump]

Till The End Of The Moon - Ep. 28

#till the end of the moon #cdrama #unconscious #aftermath #cradled #spoon fed #struggling to stand #dizziness #collapse #concern #bromance #support #luo yunxi #li jia hao

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Critical (m, cold)

It’s an Elijah fic! Okay, so, I wrote this fic specifically for @waterfallofspace because she’s sent me so many amazing prompts and I’ve been blueballing her saying I’m going to use them. So I used as many of the prompts you sent in as I could in this one, along with a prompt from an anon about a critic coming to the restaurant, and this text post from @ithadtobesneezing. What can I say, all of you inspire me :) 

Hope you all like it, let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see in the future, and I’ll stop rambling so you can read it lmao. 

A little under 3k words. cw: male snz, colds, mention of contagion but no explicit contagion, vertigo/dizziness, a passing out moment, light mess. 

Critical

“We have a problem.”

If there was one sentence Elijah didn’t want to hear today, that was it. “I haven’t even set my shit down yet,” he said to Greyson, running a hand down his face. “Can we have a problem in twenty minutes, when I’ve mentally prepared myself?”

“Unfortunately, it’s an urgent one,” Greyson said, pushing his computer monitor towards his boss. He had the reservation sheet pulled up; Elijah raised an eyebrow.

“Is the problem OpenTable?” he asked, dropping his bag on the ground and siting heavily in his chair. Greyson gave Elijah a look and tapped the screen hard enough to brighten the spot he was touching.

“The problem is this,” Greyson spelled out, clicking on the name Trevor James. Elijah, still not following, just shook his head. “It’s a critic,” Greyson said.

Elijah huffed out a laugh. “Grey,” he said, “I know every critic in this city’s name. Trevor James is not a critic.”

“Wanna bet?” Greyson asked, pulling out his cell phone and clicking the screen rapidly. He held the device up to Elijah’s face, making the other man squint and pull back from the bright light.

“Christ, Greyson, hold it a little closer why don’t you,” Elijah pushed his glasses up his nose and grabbed the phone from the chef, whose eyes widened in sudden realization.

“Oh, fuck, you’re wearing your glasses,” Greyson groaned. “Oh, shit. Tell me you didn’t catch the plague that the servers have been passing around.”

“I didn’t catch the plague the servers have been passing around,” Elijah parroted, a liquid sniffle betraying him immediately. Greyson slammed his head into his hands, defeated. “I didn’t,” Elijah insisted, squinting hard at the phone. It was a conversation between Greyson and a chef at an Italian spot in the financial district; the chef at the other restaurant was warning Greyson about the newest alias of the New York Time’s most renowned food critic, Natalia Gomez, who had showed up at his place unexpectedly and docked them a star. Elijah knew Natalia well; they had been first acquainted when he was managing at Eleven Madison Park in his twenties, and she was working for Forbes; she was known for being ruthless even back then.  Apparently, ‘Trevor James’ had made her way through half of Manhattan under the fake name, collecting stars with every unexpected drop-in. It was dirty, but it was propelling her to national attention – the only thing critics really gave a fuck about at the end of the day.

“Lij, you really cannot be sick for this service, like I’m sorry but we can’t lose a star; we just got two last year, and -”

“I’m fine, Greyson,” Elijah snapped, placing the chef’s phone back in front of him. “I – HNGTSHH-ue!” Elijah caught the sudden sneeze in his elbow, cursing himself for the comically-poor timing. He sniffled again and sat himself up, attempting to look as put-together, as unruffled as possible. “I’mb good.” Fuck.

“Fuck, Elijah,” Greyson moaned. “This woman is going to tear us to fucking pieces, and you pick today of all days to get fucking sick?”

Elijah gave Greyson a look that could cut glass. “I’m not sick.”

“Your nose is literally twitching.”

“Fuck off, you dickhead it is n- hhNGSTHH! IGTSZCH! Huhh -!” Elijah allowed himself a moment stuck in pre-sneeze torture before putting his arm down and sniffling pitifully. “Okay,” he said, grabbing a tissue. “I have a cold. Happy? It’s ndothing. I’ve done full events with a fucking cold, I think I can handle one critic for one night.”

Greyson was already pawing through their medicine drawer like a madman. “Dayquil,” he said, placing the bottle of orange liquid on the desk. “Cough syrup. Ibuprofen. I don’t think -”

“Chef,” Elijah said, an attempt to snap Greyson out of his mania. It seemed to work; Greyson whipped his head towards his boss, the endless bottles of medicine seemingly forgotten for the time being. “What I need from you is to go prepare to cook the meal of a lifetime. Okay? I’m a grown man. I can handle myself.”

The two of them held eye contact for a few moments before Greyson sighed and looked back at the reservations. “Okay,” he said. “Just… let me know if you need -”

“I won’t need anything,” Elijah insisted. “Just go do what you’re best a- ahh… ahhTSHZUE!”

The chef set his jaw as Elijah yanked another tissue from their shared box. “Bless, boss.”

“Go do your fuckin’ job.”

***

Elijah didn’t have a cold.

Or maybe more accurately, he didn’t just have a cold.

From the moment his feet had hit the floor this morning, Elijah knew that he’d picked up the awful flu the servers had swapped back and forth for weeks. His head and neck hurt, his lymph nodes were swollen, and he could feel the tendrils of a soon-to-be fever snaking up his back before he even got in the shower. The servers had complained over and over about this illness, but he’d assumed they were all just being dramatic, as servers are wont to be.

He assumed wrong.

“Hey, Elijah, so I think we should put the critic at twenty-seven, I know you had her at thirty-one but -”

“GTSHHH-uhh! hhhNGTSHZUE! ITSHZ-ue! Hhh…”

Mark, caught completely off-guard by the intensity of Elijah’s sneezes, placed the floor chart he’d been holding on an unset table and pulled out a chair for his boss to sit in. Elijah did so, grateful, and invited Mark to sit next to him with a flourish of his hand. He did, and regarded Elijah with a look of disquiet before addressing the elephant in the room. “Um...you good?”

Elijah gave Mark a watery glare. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and congested. “What were you sayigg?”

The floor manager warily picked up the floor chart again and pointed to the two tables he’d been considering for the critic. “So, twenty-seven still has the city view, but the sun doesn’t set near it. At thirty-one, she’s going to get the sun right in her eyes; see, she’s coming at six, and -”

“HFTSHH! HRRSHH-ue! HTSHHH-uhh! Fuck – hhhETSZHUE!” Elijah doubled over at the waist, barely able to get a hand to his mouth before the volley of sneezes escaped. Mark, eyes wide, fast-walked away from the table, only to return a few moments later with a box of tissues. His boss pulled a handful out, grateful, and cleaned himself up before regarding the younger man.

“Sorry,” he said, sitting up and rubbing an eye behind his glasses. “Yeah. Twenty-sevend sounds like a good pland.” Elijah directed a wheezing cough into his elbow and cleared his throat. “Andything else?”

“Uhh… I mean, other than once again asking if you’re okay, then no, nothing else.”

The GM attempted a smile. “I’mb okay,” he said. “Is Riley on tondight?”

Mark nodded, silent. Elijah gave a nod in return.

“Let’s put her on Natalia, okay? I ndeed someone strong serving her.” Mark nodded again and escaped to the kitchen, leaving Elijah to wallow. This is going to be such a goat fuck, he thought, pushing himself to a standing position and grabbing the table when a wave of vertigo passed over him. Oh, shit.

A minute or two must have passed while Elijah closed his eyes and willed himself to stay upright. Finally, the vertigo unraveled its fingers from his aching head and he opened his eyes. For now, he was fine.

Elijah walked carefully back to the office in search of more Dayquil, those two little words rattling in his fevered mind. For now.

***

“Guys, the mbost important reservation tondight is Trevor Jambes at six o’clock. It’s an alias for Natalia Gomez, the critic at the Time’s. Riley is ond it, but I really ndeed you all to – to… hhh…” Elijah trailed off, an arm raising to catch a sneeze that didn’t seem like it was going to come. After a moment, Elijah lowered his arm and sniffled. “I ndeed you guys to be on your best behavior. Okay? Ndo gossiping on the floor, everyone ndeeds to check their uniforms for spots, just… let’s all act like we’re civilized tondight. O – HNGTSHHH-ue!”

“Bless, Elijah,” a few of the servers chorused. Elijah nodded, pulled out a tissue from his now-ever-present box, and blew his nose quietly. Greyson stood and placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder to signal that he would take over.

“If not for the restaurant, be on your best behavior for your boss, who one of you infected with your disgusting germs,” Greyson joked, prompting a collective chuckle from the group. “We’re already biting our nails waiting for Elijah’s nose to blow this whole thing for us, don’t make us worry about you blowing it, too.” Elijah reddened, and the servers laughed in earnest this time.

“Hilarious, Chef,” Elijah muttered, rolling his eyes. Greyson did as he was told, while Elijah held on as tightly as he could to his consciousness. The wave of dizziness earlier seemed to set off a ripple effect, and now anytime Elijah moved his head a little too quickly he was about three seconds away from passing out.

“...boss? Hellooo? Earth to Elijah!”

Elijah yanked himself back to the present and looked up to see Greyson standing above him, looking worried. The servers had exited the dining room to go eat family meal – when did that happen? - and the two of them were alone. “Yeah, what’s – hhNGTSHZZUE! Guh, fuck. Snrf. Whadt’s up?” Elijah asked, wiping his nose on the back of his hand.

Greyson raised an eyebrow and sat back down next to his boss. “Are you sure you’re alright? I mean, you took Dayquil, right? How are you still sneezing so much?”

Elijah gave Greyson a look. “I have a cold, Grey. Combes with the territory.”

“Yeah, but like… you also look fucking awful, dude. Like not trying to be an asshole, but you look like you’re about to keel over. Do you have a - ?”

“HNGTSHH-ue! HTSZZHHUE! HhhNGTSHZUE!” Elijah wrenched away from Greyson, managing to bury his face in his elbow just in time. Greyson pulled back, pushed the tissues towards his boss, and waited for the other man to clean himself up before gently placing a hand on Elijah’s forehead.

“Dude,” he said when Elijah pulled away. “You’re burning up.”

Elijah rolled his eyes – mistake, he thought, steadying himself on the table once again. He took a big breath and swallowed painfully before responding. “Shut the fuck up, Grey. I’mb fine.”

“Yeah? Because you’re holding on to the table for dear life right now.”

The GM bit the inside of his cheek and let go of the table, allowing the wave of dizziness to wash over and move past him. When it did, he regarded Greyson again. “I’mb good. Just go get ready to service. I’ll take some mbore meds. Dond’t worry about mbe. Okay?”

Greyson stood and shook his head. “Whatever you say, Lij,” he said, defeated. “You trying to ignore the fuckin’ flu has nothing to do with me. Try not to sneeze on the critic, okay?” He exited to the kitchen, and Elijah slowly lowered his head between his legs. He took some deep breaths. Everything is going to be okay, he told himself. It has to.

***

By the time six o’clock rolled around, Elijah was 100% sure he wasn’t going to make it through the night without passing out.

The first hour of service, he’d been able to sit in the office and try to hype himself up, while avidly avoiding the looks Greyson flashed him every few minutes. That was the easy part; the moment the critic showed up and the hostess came back looking for him however he really didn’t know how he was going to pull this off. “Yeah,” he said to the concerned-looking hostess. “I’mb coming. Thanks.”

Elijah took a deep breath and pushed himself to a standing position with little drama, then swallowed hard as he put on his blazer. He checked his reflection in the tiny mirror Greyson had put up in their office a few months ago – looking absolutely horrifying, congrats – then grimaced and looked away. He took one more slow breath in, uncapped the Dayquil he’d been chugging the past ten hours, and took a long swig. Good as it’s going to get, he thought, walking out of the office and pushing through the swinging kitchen doors.

The restaurant was packed; it was a Tuesday night, but it was spring break and every local in the area knew that Elliot’s was the place to see and be seen, even during the week. Elijah breezed past the server’s station, ignoring the looks the servers were flashing him, and approached the host stand.

“Is she still at twenty-sevend?” Elijah asked the hostess, and she nodded without looking back at her boss. Elijah nodded in return, swallowed hard, and waltzed into the dining room.

Natalia Gomez was not the kind of critic the Time’s usually employed; that is to say, she was anything but unremarkable, which was generally what you wanted in your critics. Natalia certainly stood out in a crowd; tall, curvaceous, big hair and a bigger laugh – stunning was the first word that came to Elijah’s mind, but he shook it away as quickly as it entered. Critics were the bane of every restaurant owner’s existence. Not meant for ogling, but for tearing to shreds from the comfort of the back-of-house, post-service.

“Good evening, Natalia,” Elijah said, approaching the critic’s table. “Good to see you, as always.”

Natalia turned away from the window with ease and smiled at Elijah. “Elijah,” she said. “Can’t pull one over on you, can I?”

Elijah returned the smile, with difficulty. “It appears ndot,” he said, clearing his throat. “Chef has prepared a tasting menu for you this evening, if you’re interested.”

The critic laughed, the sound light and tinkling like water poured into glass. “You know me too well,” she said, handing her menu over. Elijah nodded, picked up her bottle of wine, and refilled her glass.

“I’ll send himb out shortly,” Elijah said, placing the bottle back where it was. “Enjoy your night, Natalia.”

Elijah turned and walked away from the table, not stopping at the host stand, not stopping at the server station, not stopping until he was at the pass, in Greyson’s line of sight.

“Chef,” he said, as clearly as he could. “Tasting mbenu’s a go.”

Greyson nodded and signaled Matt to start putting Natalia’s first course together. He turned back to Elijah and asked, “Are you going to take the first course out?”

The GM swallowed hard, grabbed onto the prep table, and shook his head. “I don’t think -” he started, then stopped suddenly. Elijah’s grip on the table loosened, he blinked hard, and his eyes rolled back. He felt his knees buckle, heard Greyson say, “Lij!” and finally lost consciousness.

***

When Elijah came to, he was laid out on the infamous tablecloth bed that every manager seemed to succumb to when they were ill. It took a moment, but when he remembered where he was and what was going on, Elijah attempted to push himself to standing.

“Whooaa, boss, go ahead and stay right there,” Greyson, who Elijah hadn’t realized was sitting behind him in one of the office rolling chairs, said, gently pushing Elijah back to the ground. “You’re not going anywhere til I take you home.”

Elijah slowly sunk back down and cleared his throat. “Why aren’t you cookigg? Shouldn’t you be mbakigg Natalia’s tasting?”

Greyson looked down at his boss with bemusement. “Natalia’s long gone, boss,” he said. “She ate, we talked for awhile – she said she loved everything. She sends her regards; she said she’s sorry she booked on a night when you’re so sick.” Greyson turned his chair to fully regard his boss. “You never told me you guys knew each other.”

The GM shrugged weakly. “Doesn’t mbatter, right? She’s still a critic. She doesn’t give a fuck if I’mb her best friend; her job is to critique at any cost.”

Greyson knitted his eyebrows together. “I mean, but she does give a fuck though, Lij,” he said, handing Elijah a bottle of water that the GM gratefully gulped from. “She felt badly. I feel badly.” Elijah gave Greyson a confused look, and the chef shrugged. “I know I made you feel like you were going to ruin our star rating because you’re sick,” he said. “I’m sorry. You know I care about your well-being, right? Like, more than I care about stars.”

The GM closed his eyes slowly and took a deep breath. This conversation would have been a lot even if he wasn’t flu-ridden and fever-addled; in this state, he was sure he was about to burst into overwhelmed, sick tears. “I know, Grey,” he managed. “Thangk you.”

“Anytime,” Greyson said, clearly grateful to be done with the conversation. “Now, just lay there and try not to keel over, okay? I’m just going to check out the line, and then I’ll drive you home.”

Elijah managed a weak smile. “I’ll do my best,” he said, and thanked whatever God there was that Greyson’s back was turned when a single, grateful tear fell onto the tablecloth nest.

#sickfic #snzfic #whiskeyswriting #male cold #male snz #snz #snz fet #snz kink #coldfic #coughing #contagion #dizziness #vertigo #passing out #i hope u guys like this one!