swooningdelirium

[swooningdelirium]

WOO FINALLY, A FIC!!! This is something no one requested and it’s for me so you can read it too but whether you enjoy it or not, it was originally for me because sometimes self-care is writing angsty, plotless whumpfic of your faves

Richie was in the middle of a sentence when his face flushed red and he trailed off abruptly, blinking a few times and wavering despite that he was sitting in the hammock of the secret clubhouse. Perhaps on a different day, they might have let it slide as a lost train of thought (although Richie never lost a train of thought; he loved hearing himself talk too much ), but with everyone so on-edge, Ben frowned. 

“Richie?” he asked, sounding as concerned as Eddie felt. The light in the clubhouse was dim, but even so, Eddie could see that Richie had started shivering almost the second that he’d picked up the shower caps that Stan had left there. Memories, Eddie hoped, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut already. 

“What?” he asked, looking dazedly up at Ben. His eyes took a moment to focus and he pressed a hand to his forehead with a voiceless moan. “Woah.”

Keep reading

[swooningdelirium]

another scenario to consider surrounding this. a friend/partner who knows this about them takes the sickie’s temperature, and when they realize how high it is, they make an extra effort to make sure sickie has everything they need within reach/doesn’t need to get up.

just. a caretaker who intimately knows their loved one and takes care of them with preventative measures before something bad even happens

A whumpee who gets very tachycardic when they have a fever. Standing up makes them short of breath, they can just feel their heartbeat going faster than usual, reverberating through their whole body, making them feel desperately dizzy.

[swooningdelirium]

• Somebody pressing a concerned hand to their forehead, then sucking in air through their teeth in sympathy.

• Colors looking hazy/brighter as their temperature spikes

•Teeth chattering around an oral thermometer until it flashes in an angry red

• “I told you, I’m fine.” ‘Well, should I believe you or the thermometer?’

• Feebly curling around a heating pad/hot water bottle just trying infuse some warmth into their bones

• A friend notices they look unwell. Friend goes in for a hug or places a hand on their shoulder as a casual display of affection, but also to sneakily gauge their temperature. Just as they suspected, they’re burning up.

Fevers

Whumpees with aching eyes, too tired to keep open yet too sore to close, even the lightest pressure of their eyelids too much

Whumpee who's too weak and dizzy to do anything at all but lie in bed completely still, sweating through their blankets only to immediately start shivering after clumsily throwing them off

Whumpees with dry mouths, dry lips

The corners of their room are more shadowy than they should be, and they're too exhausted to bother to get up and see what's in there. The Hat Man will have to just wait his turn.

Strong enough to get out of bed but being so, so out of it. Caretaker finding them standing swaying in a doorway, pale as death, clearly seeing something that isn't there

Everything seems to be flickering. The air buzzes. Their skin prickles.

Getting to sleep is hard, because their mind is restless and racing. Once they're asleep though, they're down for the count

Chattering teeth. Their bones must be rattling, for how much they ache

[swooningdelirium]

ugh it’s especially soft when used by the caretaker. like

“oh honey you’re running a temperature”

it just feels very timeless and gentle

For some reason the phrase "running a temperature" makes me

IT'S SO GOOD

[swooningdelirium]

they wake back up and their fever has spiked again because they should have been RESTINGGG💗💗

Yoooooo characters who rush recovery. Passing out because they’re trying to run around the day after a high fever breaksssss 💖

[swooningdelirium]

based on the drabble prompt “i didn’t know it was this bad”

“Hey,” A groans, head pounding and muscles throbbing. “Can you grab me another blanket?”

B makes their way toward the couch where A is already nestled beneath a throw blanket and the comforter from their bed and presses a hand to their forehead. They wince, sympathetically sucking air in through their teeth.

“i don’t think so, honey,” B says apologetically. their eyes are sad as they push a stray lock of hair from A’s face. “You’re even hotter now than you were this morning. I want to take your temperature again, okay?”

A sighs but sits up, the room spinning a bit as they hear B gather supplies from the other room. They return with a damp washcloth, a small pill bottle, and a digital thermometer. They press a hand to A’s chest, gently ushering them to lean back against the cushions.

Taking A’s face in their hand, B gently pries their jaw open and slips the thermometer beneath their tongue. “Good job,” they murmur, placing the cloth against A’s sweaty forehead. They shudder violently, but don’t resist.

“I know, I know,” B reassures them. “I know it feels like you’re freezing, but it’ll help.”

A shudders again. The wet cloth is agonizing against their skin and the thermometer in their mouth is making them nauseous. It feels like it’s taking forever to read as the probe slowly heats up beneath A’s tongue.

B’s eyes are locked on the numbers as they slowly ascend.

As if on cue, the thermometer sounds in loud, angry trills that pierce through A’s throbbing skull. Though they’ve closed their eyes, flashes of red still infiltrate their field of vision with every beep.

B takes in a sharp breath as they pull the thermometer from A’s lips, rapidly feeling their face, neck and chest in succession.

“Fuck,” they mutter, tossing the thermometer to the side. A wills their eyes to focus on the reading, and it takes a moment for their body to cooperate, but eventually they see the reading glaring back at them.

104.2.

“Shit,” B curses again, planting a kiss on A’s boiling temple. “I didn’t know it was this bad.”

[swooningdelirium]

i love when the “just hanging out” part is integrated with some casual caretaking.

little things like pausing the movie because it’s time to take their temperature again or refilling their water between rounds of a game.

sweet, cozy, low-stakes fluff. love it.

This has probably been said before, but it's worth saying again: Friends/companions just, like, hanging out with the injured / recently ill one while they recover.

Not explicitly "taking care" of them or "cheering them up", just being together because that's what comes naturally.

Sitting around their bed, playing cards or dice together, swapping stories / songs / tunes, chatting over warm mulled drinks, sharing a meal of something better than their recent broth-tea-and-porridge fare.

[swooningdelirium]

#i faint/almost faint every time my fever is high #pots gang rise up #but really slowly

A whumpee who gets very tachycardic when they have a fever. Standing up makes them short of breath, they can just feel their heartbeat going faster than usual, reverberating through their whole body, making them feel desperately dizzy.

[swooningdelirium]

no because my gf did this for me once and i FOLDED.

“oh baby you’re at 102.3 :(“ it was so soft

Caretakers reciting the exact temperature of the sick person's fever will always get me

[swooningdelirium]

kissing their forehead in passing as a sweet little hello and realizing it’s far too warm. planting a second more prolonged kiss to their temple confirms they’re definitely running a fever.

Checking a partner’s temperature by kissing their forehead… really just gets to me

[swooningdelirium]

and now im curious about the other half. reblog with your favorite hurt/comfort / caretaking thing in the tags

[swooningdelirium]

caretaker has to hold them down because they’re refusing to hold still or let the temp register. they’re shivery and weak and they can’t fight back, but don’t want to admit how ill they’re really feeling. they lay their head down, still blearily protesting until the thermometer inevitably reveals A’s fever is much higher than B suspected.

A isn’t feeling well and is trying to hide their illness. However, B, their partner/spouse/friend etc, notices and gets the thermometer. A refuses to let them take their temperature. Cue B brandishing the thermometer at them

[swooningdelirium]

finding your blog is for me, finding something that appeals right to my most specific niche

i have felt like a freak my whole life so it’s actually so cool to know there are other people wired like me :) i see you

[swooningdelirium]

annabeth running around doing a million tasks finishing none of them and complaining about how hot it is as she does it until finally percy is like “YEAH YOU HAVE A FEVER, IDIOT. LIE DOWN BEFORE YOU PASS OUT PLEASE”

sick annabeth and sick percy except annabeth is a hyperactive feverishly menace who is running off delusions of grandeur and hallucinations and percy who is just ..exhausted

[swooningdelirium]

Idea for you. Let’s say we have 5 characters living in one household. They’re all very close. A brings an illness into the house. B catches it while taking care of them. Then C joins the party. Then finally D catches it as well, leaving E to take care of all of them. They start to feel ill, but power through. By the time the others have recovered, E’s fever is bad, and now they have to take care of the caretaker.

this flu season, everyone got sick.

First to fall was A, who came home from work with a pale face and a raspy voice and went straight to bed. When E went up to see them, they found them huddled in bed, blearily staring at the wall.

“I don’t feel good,” they whimper.

Next, C’s nagging cough deepened. It had started a tickle in their throat, but soon moved all the way down into their chest. C was the active type—always going for runs and spending time outdoors—so E knew they were in trouble when a short walk from room to room left C breathless, and soon, they were bedridden as well.

Then, B started complaining about feeling chilled.

“Aren’t you guys freezing?” They sat at the dinner table with D and E, a blanket clutched round their shoulders as they stare blankly at the meal they’ve barely touched.

“No?”

B runs their hands up and down their arms, then hugs themselves tightly with a shudder. “I just can’t get warm.”

D and E exchange a look before D rests a hand on B’s shoulder. “I’ll get the thermometer.”

In the span of 36 hours, three of them had become bedridden.

At first, it’s a bit of a joke between them all, D and E commiserating as they move between rooms with cough syrup, tissues, blankets, and tea.

“We should open up our own hospital,” E cracks as they

But that all changes four days in when E comes downstairs to see D at the kitchen table, ashen-faced and clutching a mug of tea in their hands.

“D, you look awful.”

D hugs the mug closer to their chest and shudders, coughing weakly. “I’ll manage. It’s just the sniffles.”

Before D can move away, E’s got a palm to their too-warm forehead and a sinking feeling in their chest. “Off to bed with you, D. You’re the next victim.”

D groans, slumping over with their head on the kitchen table. “E, I can’t just leave you.”

“Yes, you can and you will. You’re feverish and pale as death.”

D pulls the blanket tighter, a sheepish look on their face. “I thought…I thought it wouldn’t get me too.”

“No one thinks it will. Bed. Now.”

So that’s how D winds up the fourth victim of the flu, and despite their protests, they were arguably the worst hit. What they tried to pass off as a quick rest turned into a six-hour nap. they woke that evening with a 104 fever, having sweat through their clothes and bedsheets.

“It’s going to be a long night,” E whispers under their breath.

——————-

Two days later, E’s standing in the kitchen, fighting to keep their eyes open as the coffee brews, when they feel it.

A chill, prickling between their shoulder blades before it washes over their whole body.

No. I’m just overworked and sleep deprived.

Generously, E had slept for a combined 3 or 4 hours over the past two nights. It was partially their own fault. They’d been sleeping on the hallway floor so they could be equally close to everyone, which meant they heard every whimper, every cough, every quiet plea for help.

C had been up all night with a body-wracking cough, and B’s fever had spiked twice, which meant two changes into dry pajamas. A seemed to be through the worst of it, but they were still so weak they had to be helped to the bathroom. D woke at 2 in the morning, wracked with chills so violent that E gave into their pleas and helped them take a bath to warm up. After being dried off, they spent the rest of the night clutching a hot water bottle.

After that ordeal, E hadn’t even gone to bed—they’d just collapsed on D’s carpet, tugged the nearest blanket around themselves, and passed out.

Until they were woken by C’s coughing a couple hours later, and it all began again.

I'll just finish these dishes and then go sit by the fire. It's probably just this cold snap getting to me.

But as they wash dish after dish, E finds that each one becomes harder and harder to lift. Even the effort of standing makes their knees shake, and goosebumps prickle on E’s arms for no reason at all.

No. No. I can’t get sick.

By midmorning, it’s clear that something is very wrong. E’s chilled to the bone, despite being layered in thermals, a thick sweater and multiple pairs of socks. They resist the urge to wrap up in their bathrobe—the others will know something is wrong if they have that many visible layers on.

So they take A a glass of water, trying to hide how badly their hands are shaking when they hand it off. A must be thirsty enough they don’t notice as they gulp the glass down, but they frown once they’ve finished.

“E, you’re pretty peaked.”

“Hmm?” E snaps to attention, their focus drifting.

“You just look sorta washed out. Have you been sleeping?”

“I’ve been fine. As much sleep as I can with four patients to take care of,” E snaps. They instantly regret their tone as A flinches, then raises their eyebrows. “Sorry. It’s just…it’s been a lot.”

A props themselves up, wrapping their discarded robe around their shoulders. “E, I promise I’m feeling better. I can sit with D for a while—“

“No way. You couldn’t even walk yesterday.”

“And that was yesterday,” A says, patiently. “Give me an hour. If I don’t feel up to it, I’ll tell you.”

“Fine,” E says, too tired to fight with a suddenly chipper A. “But if you even seem slightly faint, it’s back to bed.”

——————

C is the next patient to raise alarms. Though their hacking cough has rendered them voiceless, they seem to be on the mend—vigorously pointing on things and writing messages on their notepad.

E, you look sick. C stabs the pointed message with their finger for emphasis.

E stifles a groan. “You’re one to talk. Drink your cough medicine.”

C accepts the shot of dark red syrup, but their eyes don’t leave B as they take it.

E meets A in the hallway, and before they can ask, A rattles off a report on B. “Fever’s still holding steady at 101.4. They’re miserable, but they’re not going to die. Gave them a cold washcloth, aspirin, and an extra blanket.”

“That’s….good work, A.”

A rolls their eye. “You’re not the only one who can play nurse.”

D is the final stop—they’re still in the roughest shape, feverish and mumbling incoherently, but A manages to soothe them with a cool hand to the forehead and some soft words. E adds another blanket to D’s bed and forces some more medicine into them, and D’s asleep in three minutes.

All patients accounted for, they leave D to rest. E’s about to tell—no, demand—that A goes back to bed, when a sudden dizzy feeling washes over them, and they grab the doorframe.

“E? You alright?”

“I…..I…” Suddenly, E can’t even form words, they just know they’re freezing, and they’re torn between keeping hold of the wall and wrapping their arms around themselves, get warm get warm get warm, and when they choose neither, their knees buckle and they crumple to the floor.

——————

The first thing E realizes, as A and C help them to sit on their bed, is that their sheets are crisp and clean. When was the last time they’d slept a full night in their bed?

“A, go….go to bed,” E rasps weakly through chattering teeth, huddling on the edge of the bed as A helps them into pajamas. “I’ll manage.”

“E, you can’t even keep your head up. Just let us help you change.”

E shudders weakly as their bare, feverish skin hits the chilly air, and A eases them under the covers, rubbing their back. “There you go. Nice and warm.” E leans into the touch, groaning softly, and they feel a thermometer poke under their tongue.

“103.6.”

E groans, pulling the blankets tighter. “I…I can’t be sick.”

“Hush.” A covers them with another blanket. “You took care of us, now let us take care of you.”

E is too feverish and cold and achy to protest, so they let them.

[swooningdelirium]

the fever forehead feel… like if you agree 🥰

[swooningdelirium]

The sheer romanticism of a character being bedridden with a fever and a cough and another character sitting on the edge of the said sickbed and stroking their hair with concern in their eyes. In this essay I will