#< i have a mild case of flu

[nthflower]

Girlies I am dying send good vibes

[searenbound]

Guess who might have the flu?

[milaek]

Hggghfghfgg more covid posting because hcjaklajf.

Just took a shower/bath in which I washed the dogs. I had pretty full energy when I began.

I am now completely exhausted. Like. In my day to day I struggle with chronic-fatigue-like symptoms but this is fuckin next level. I'm not just an eepy bitch I am like physically jello now.

Hwhaaaaat the fuckkkkkk.

[rosyhoneydew]

Bucktommy sickfic | G | 722 words

When Evan sits up around 5:50 Tommy knows he's given up on trying to fall back asleep. He's been tossing and turning for the last hour or so, and trying his best to muffle the sounds of his coughing in the pillows, with little success.

Tommy rolls over and leans up on an elbow, rubbing at Evan's back. He's got a faraway look on his face like his head's feeling slightly fuzzy.

"You feeling okay?"

Evan sniffles and clears his throat lightly. "Yeah." It comes out like a croak and Tommy winces in sympathy. His voice sounds raw and creaky, and not just because it's the first he's spoken all morning.

This isn't really a surprise. Chim had warned the two of them about cold and flu season starting up at Jee's school - not that it ever really ended - so they'd known they were bound to pick up something with all the baking they'd been doing together. Tommy can't wait to have kids, hopefully someday soon, but the germiness will take some getting used to.

Tommy gets up fully, swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing his glasses from the nightstand. He moves to head out into the hallway.

"I think I've got some NyQuil still, it's the capsules though… you're good with swallowing pills, right?"

"Uh, wait, that'll just-" he cuts himself off with a coughing fit. It's dry, but it sounds painful. It's the kind that takes him a minute to get under control again. "That'll just make me more tired," he gets out eventually. "I've got a shift in a few hours."

Not like this, you don't.

"Evan…"

"Tommy," he throws back, petulant.

He and Evan have been together just under a year now. They've been living together for 3 months. They've said 'I love you' and talked about marriage; and if there's any one thing Tommy has learned in this time, it's that his boyfriend wouldn't willingly take a day off work if he were on his deathbed.

He sighs and pauses in the doorway. "Alright, why don't you call Bobby when he's up," he suggests. "See what he has to say about you going in this morning. I'll get you some medicine in case you change your mind."

"Fine," Evan concedes the point, reaching for his phone.

Tommy shakes his head, smiling a little at Evan's stubbornness. He makes his way to the kitchen, snaps off a packet of the blue gel-filled pills, and fills a glass with water from the fridge. It's still dark out, but it's starting to get the kind of green-gray hue of morning light, so he takes just a minute to peek out the window at it.

He's still standing there when he hears footsteps plodding behind him. He gets about a twenty-second heads up before Evan thunks his head onto the center of Tommy's back.

"You get a hold of him?"

"I'm not even that sick," Evan groans. He follows it up with a large, wet sniff that betrays his statement.

Tommy hums and reaches back to thread his fingers in Evan's hair, twisting his head to lay a quick kiss on his temple, contagion be damned. His skin feels hot and Tommy revisits his task of getting some meds in him to break the mild fever and hopefully let him get a little more rest. Thankfully, with the hopes of work dashed, he swallows them down without complaint, nibbling on a few crackers to settle his stomach too.

"Go lay back down, sweetheart, I'll be right there," Tommy says when he's finished.

Evan grumbles a bit but heads back to the bedroom. He's a little wobbly on his feet, and still soft-looking from bed. Tommy can't help but get distracted watching him. There's a fondness that's been present in his chest since they first got together, and it swells in him now. It's almost alarming, the way that it can take his breath away in these moments. Once he hears Evan settle back into bed he shakes himself and clears the counter.

When he enters the bedroom he finds Evan asleep already, snoring softly. He can't help but drop another kiss on his sweaty forehead, thinking of how lucky he feels to be the one caring for this man. In sickness and in health, he thinks and slips under the covers.

-

Happy first day of November! My goal this month is to write at least 2k words every day, so here's the first 700+ I wrote: a teensy tiny BT ficlet.

[shadowtriovibes]

fever (what a lovely way to burn)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: M

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, friends to lovers, character with fever/illness, mild sensual content

Summary: request: "since you saved Sebastian from Azkaban, he has met you in the common room every morning and you have gone to breakfast together. One morning he isn't there so you go to his room looking for him to find him in bed, poorly."

“I’m disgusting,” he groans. “I can’t stop coughing, I’m sweating everywhere, I feel like I’m going to be sick but there’s nothing to–” He cuts himself off with several dry, pathetic coughs. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him firmly. “Ominis is going to go to class and come back this afternoon with some Muggle medicinals. In the meantime, I’m going to help you eat a bit of food and have a bath.” “N-no, absolutely not,” he stammers. “You think I want you seeing me like this any more than you already have?”

Monday, October 5, 1891

Even a month after the start of term, it’s unseasonably warm in the Highlands. The heat from the dog days of summer persists well into the arrival of autumn, permeating the ancient stone walls of the castle and settling like a thin layer of fog across Hogwarts’ students.

Professor Sharp’s N.E.W.T.s-level Potions class meets promptly at nine o’clock every morning. Despite the early time slot, the dungeon-level classroom starts to become warm rather quickly thanks to the heat of two dozen bodies and six potion stations, each with their flickering flames preheating the students’ pewter cauldrons.

Your little trio is usually the last to arrive from breakfast. Sebastian sidles up to the doorway just as Professor Sharp is preparing to close it, gallantly offering to hold it open for you and Ominis as you take your time sauntering down the hall, arms linked together and chatting happily about the latest gossip to have surfaced in the Great Hall.

Then you settle in at the potions table squarely in the middle of the classroom, which you’d unabashedly claimed at the start of term. (Ominis can hear Professor Sharp most clearly here, and Sebastian, as always, gets to remain the center of attention.)

Finally, with Ominis’ dictation quill hovering over his parchment, Professor Sharp begins his daily discourse.

“Dittany, as you’ll recall, is one of the most useful herbs for creating a wide range of healing draughts,” he explains, showing off a tendril of the fiercely pink plant clipped from Professor Garlick’s greenhouse just that morning. “Can anyone give me an example of one?”

“Wiggenweld Potion, sir,” Amit chimes in.

“Very good, Mister Thakkar,” Sharp replies with an approving nod. “Another?”

Adelaide Oakes timidly raises her hand. “Essence of Dittany, sir?”

“Well done, Miss Oakes,” he murmurs. “Though not as effective as a properly-brewed bottle of Wiggenweld, dittany on its own can be used to craft a powerful restorative tonic – especially useful in preventing the occurrence of scars. Five points to Hufflepuff.”

Then Professor Sharp glances around the room expectantly. “One more, perhaps?”

“Moustache paste, sir?” Sebastian mumbles under his breath, and you quickly elbow him in the side.

“What was that, Mister Sallow?” Professor Sharp drawls.

Sebastian bites the inside of his cheek. “Er, the Antidote to Common Poisons, perhaps?”

Professor Sharp levels Sebastian with a dubious look. “I’m afraid not. While dittany is a broadly useful herb, its powers are generally limited to healing, not curing. When considering its uses, think ‘paper cut,’ not ‘influenza.’”

You raise your hand and ask, “Sir, are there any potions that do cure illnesses?”

“Yes, in fact,” Professor Sharp answers. “The Pepperup Potion will quickly resolve any common colds or cases of the flu, with the enigmatic side effect of generating steam that will pour from your ears for hours on end.”

You wince a bit. “I suppose that’s worth being over a cold in a day.”

“I should think so,” he replies with a slight grin. “So has the majority of the wizarding world since the twelfth century.”

As Professor Sharp segues into a lecture on the history of healing potions, you pull out a piece of parchment and start to take down some notes.

“Sebastian,” you hiss. “What does Pepperup Potion taste like?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he says. “I’ve only had it once, and it was a decade ago.”

You frown. “Why’s that?”

“I can’t drink it,” Sebastian says simply. “I’m allergic to bicorn horn.”

You blink, surprised. “You’re… allergic? How did you even discover that about yourself?”

“Oh, it was gruesome,” Ominis chimes in gleefully.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Well, I had my suspicions as a child when my parents gave me Pepperup Potion and steam poured out of my ears, nose, and mouth for a full week. Simply suffering through the cold would have been better.”

“And then?” you prompt.

“Well… in our third year, Anne and I made some Polyjuice Potion,” Sebastian admits, glancing around furtively. “We wanted to see if we could attend our classes all day as each other without anyone noticing the difference.”

“And Polyjuice Potion has bicorn horn,” you surmise.

Ominis looks delighted. “They were both in the Hospital Wing for three days, stuck as half-formed versions of each other.”

You gasp in disbelief. “That sounds awful!”

“It was the one and only time in their lives they were truly identical!” Ominis crows. “‘Sebastianne,’ we called them.”

You can’t help but giggle at Ominis’ delight while Sebastian sulks.

“In any case,” Sebastian grumbles, “I can’t take Pepperup Potion anymore, but luckily I never get sick.”

“Really?” you ask skeptically. “Everyone gets a common cold once in a while.”

“Not me,” he says proudly. “I haven’t been sick since I was a child. At the very least, if I have been sick, it must have been so mild that I wasn’t slowed down in the slightest – no need for Pepperup, thanks.”

“I’d be careful, Sebastian,” Ominis demurs. “Wouldn’t want to tempt fate, would we?”

With a lazy shrug, Sebastian turns to his potions station and begins to roughly chop some dittany leaves for a new healing potion Sharp intends to teach that afternoon. He glances up surreptitiously while you tie your hair back with one of those green ribbons you like to keep around your wrist for when the Potions classroom becomes especially humid with cauldron steam.

Though it’s unwise to lose focus while holding a knife, Sebastian has become quite skilled at multitasking while tending to his lovesick heart with stolen glances and half-formed daydreams.

He becomes so distracted staring at the column of your neck that when he suddenly feels a bit dizzy, he merely attributes it to the thick, heavy air in the room.

—

Tuesday, October 6, 1891

“You look dreadful,” you tell Sebastian cheerfully as you take a seat at breakfast.

Across from you, Sebastian looks a sight. His generally unruly hair is sticking up in every direction, and his face, which until this morning had still been sun-kissed and freckled from his time carrying out summer chores in Feldcroft, is ghostly pale.

“Cheers,” he grumbles, his head in his hands as he stares down at a plate full of untouched tattie scones.

You know for a fact they’re his favorite. In fact, you’ve stolen countless scones from the Great Hall on weekends when he treats himself to a bit of a lie-in just to make sure there are some left for when he finally emerges, hair rumpled and cheeks creased with pillow lines.

“Late night?” you ask him as you pour yourself some juice.

“The opposite, actually,” Ominis explains. “Sebastian was asleep before I even finished my Runes assignment last night, and I practically had to drag him out of bed this morning.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” you comment, frowning. “You’re usually up half the night reading. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Sebastian shrugs weakly. “I’m fine, I just… It’s dreadfully warm in the castle, and my head is aching.”

Without thinking, you reach across the table and press the back of your hand against his forehead.

“You’re quite hot,” you mumble.

“Wh-what?” Sebastian stammers, his eyes going wide. “What did you do that for?”

“You have a fever,” you explain to him. “Old Muggle trick. And your eyes are quite glassy. I think you might be coming down with something.”

Ominis unsubtly slides further down the bench.

“I’m not sick,” Sebastian protests. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired.”

You eye him warily, and as if to prove that he’s not ill, Sebastian lifts one of his hoarded scones to his mouth and takes a bite.

“See?” he asks with his mouth full. “M’fine.”

You grimace. “Lovely.”

Sebastian determinedly joins you and Ominis for Potions and manages to remain upright until the very end of class. He sways just a bit as he gathers up his belongings, and you offer him your shoulder while you make your way toward the stairs to Divination.

He balks when he sees the twisting spiral steps.

“On second thought,” he mumbles, “I think I’ll skive off today and get some rest.”

“Will you be alright?” you ask him concernedly. “I can come with you…”

“No, it’s fine,” he insists. “I’ll just lie down for a bit and then I’ll be grand, I promise. Save a seat for me at dinner, will you?”

Later that evening you linger in the Great Hall until the last of dinner melts through the tables down to the kitchens below, but Sebastian never shows up.

—

Wednesday, October 7, 1891

“You do not want to go in there,” Ominis tells you warningly. “Trust me, he’s a mess.”

You scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Sebastian still hasn’t emerged from his dormitory in nearly eighteen hours, and you’re starting to worry for him. Ominis had brought him back some food from dinner the night before, but according to him, it had gone untouched.

When he’d failed to show his face at breakfast, you knew you had to step in.

“He wouldn’t want you to see him like this,” Ominis tries. “Sebastian is hardly a gentleman, but some things are sacred.”

“He’s our best friend,” you remind Ominis. “I really don’t care if he’s not entirely put together.”

Ominis opens his mouth as if to say more, and then seemingly changes his mind.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll tell Professor Sharp you’re tending to Sebastian, and I’ll ask Amit if you can borrow his notes.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Ominis,” you breathe, quickly pulling him in for a hug. “What would we do without you?”

“Rot in Azkaban, most likely,” he grumbles, which… is fair.

Once Ominis leaves for class, you gently knock on the seventh-year boys’ dormitory door. “Sebastian? Can I come in?”

Through the door, you hear him whine, “Go ‘way.”

“Sebastian,” you call out patiently. “Ominis told me you’re sick, and you haven’t gotten out of bed in too long. I’m coming in.”

He protests weakly from his bed as you open the door and slip inside, carefully pressing it closed behind you. As you’d expected, his other roommates have all gone for the day. Only Sebastian remains – or at least, you think it’s Sebastian.

All you can see sticking out from underneath the pile of pilfered blankets on his bed is a mess of curly, brown hair.

“Oh, dear,” you sigh.

“Jus’ leave me alone,” he mumbles from beneath the covers. “...I think I’m sick.”

“Finally facing the music, are you?” you tease him, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over,” he groans. “I’ve never been this ill before.”

“Should I take you to see Nurse Blainey?” you ask him. “I know you can’t have Pepperup Potion, but perhaps she has something else that would help.”

“No,” he sighs. “Ominis already sent for her, she said I’m a dafty and I’ll be fine in a coupl’a days.”

You bite back a laugh at Sebastian’s deteriorating accent; for how posh he usually sounds, apparently that rougher Feldcroft vernacular tends to slip out when he’s feeling poorly.

“Poor lamb,” you croon. “Can I do anything for you? Have you eaten?”

“M’not hungry,” he sulks. “Ominis made me drink some water before he left.”

You hum softly as you start to slowly pull his piles of blankets down low enough that you can see his face. Quickly you realize that Ominis had been exaggerating – Sebastian doesn’t look entirely a mess.

His eyes are a bit wet and glassy, you observe, and his nose is bright red from persistent rubbing with a handkerchief abandoned on his bedside table. He looks a little swollen beneath his jaw, but otherwise, he looks like he’d merely stayed awake all night, and you’ve seen a sleepless Sebastian countless times throughout your friendship.

There’s a bit of stubble along his jaw that you’ve never noticed before; it’s the same rich brown color as his wild, unkempt hair.

(Honestly, how dare he still look handsome even when he’s ill.)

“Hello, you,” you tease him in a voice just above a whisper. “Was beginning to wonder if you were even there under all those blankets.”

“I’m cold,” he complains.

“That’s the fever talking,” you tell him. “You should probably–”

But before you can tell him that he’d be better off with less covers, the blankets shift lower and you realize he’s not wearing a pajama shirt.

(Your disobedient mind immediately raises the question of whether he’s wearing anything at all, and subsequently, if you could get away with having a look. Immediately you scold that particular thought away.)

“Er, you should… don’t overheat yourself,” you finish lamely.

He’s flushed down to his chest, fever-pale skin burning red where the blankets had been piled on top of him. You discover that he’s got a thin smattering of hair here, too; he’s grown into the body of a man much sooner than many of your classmates, you imagine.

Sebastian watches as you swallow, your own eyes raking down his body.

“You’re missing class,” he observes. “You never miss class.”

“It’ll be alright, just this once,” you say softly.

For a moment you aren’t sure if you’re talking about missing class or being in Sebastian’s bed.

Then Sebastian suddenly starts to cough and hastily reaches for his handkerchief. He sounds utterly pathetic as he coughs and groans in discomfort, rolling onto his side and looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

“My chest hurts,” he whimpers. “I’ve been coughing all night.”

You reach across him and gently stroke the backs of your fingers down the middle of his chest. His skin is noticeably hot to the touch and damp with sweat.

“I can put some Muggle herbs in a warm compress for your chest,” you offer. “I know they’re not as effective as a potion would be, but it always helped me feel better when I was a child.”

“Alright, I suppose that’d be nice,” he mumbles.

But when you move to stand, he quickly snags your wrist.

“Wait,” he says. “Er… where would you go? For how long?”

“Well, I’ll have to go see if Nurse Blainey has any, and if not I can go look at the edge of the Forbidden Forest,” you explain. “It might take a bit of time, I’m afraid.”

“Then, just… stay,” he whines. “Keep me company? That’s better than some plain old herbs.”

You shift onto the bed, curling up on your side behind Sebastian. It’s a tight fit, and you’re dangerously close to falling off the edge, but you’re able to leave enough space between your bodies that you can make the argument that it’s friendly, and it’s fine.

“Can I rub your back?” you ask him softly. “It might help with the soreness.”

You have no idea if it will help his aching body, but you’re eager to try it nonetheless.

“Go on,” Sebastian rasps. “I… I might fall asleep.”

“You should,” you croon. “Your body’s telling you that you need to rest.”

“S’pathetic,” he grumbles. “I never get sick.”

“You had a good run,” you tease him. “But the common cold comes for us all eventually.”

He falls silent after that, his leanly muscled arms curled around a pillow while you stroke your hand up and down the length of his back. He’s so warm, and you’re a bit anxious about letting him ride out a fever as long as he has, but soon he drifts off to sleep.

You learn two things while he rests: he snores when he’s on his back, and he frowns whenever you take your hands off of him.

—

Thursday, October 8, 1891

Ominis had managed to talk you into returning to your own dormitory for the night, promising to look after Sebastian while you got some rest. When you return the following morning, you find him in even worse condition.

His sheets are bunched down to his hips, and he’s still bare from the waist up. His entire body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, and the bags underneath his eyes have worsened – despite how much rest he’s getting, he seems more fatigued than ever.

“What happened?!” you ask Ominis.

“He’s had a fever all night,” Ominis says grimly, looking just as worn out as Sebastian. “He hasn’t eaten a thing, and I’ve barely been able to get him to drink some water.”

“Oh, Seb,” you sigh, taking his clammy hand and resting it in your lap as you sit on the edge of the bed. “You poor thing.”

“I think I’m dying,” he rasps. “This is it, right?”

“Hush now, there’s no need to be so dramatic,” you gently scold him, pressing your hand to his forehead. “You’re quite warm, but I’m not worried about your imminent demise.”

“I’m disgusting,” he groans. “I can’t stop coughing, I’m sweating everywhere, I feel like I’m going to be sick but there’s nothing to–”

He cuts himself off with several dry, pathetic coughs.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him firmly. “Ominis is going to go to class and come back this afternoon with some Muggle medicinals. In the meantime, I’m going to help you eat a bit of food and have a bath.”

“N-no, absolutely not,” he stammers. “You think I want you seeing me like this any more than you already have?”

“You’ll feel better,” you promise him. “And I swear I won’t, er… look, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You argue back and forth until Sebastian, utterly depleted of his typical stubbornness, loses energy and gives in. Ominis promises to stop by J. Pippin’s to see if the shopkeeper has any draughts suitable for Sebastian’s allergies before leaving to go to class, and you help Sebastian get out of bed with his arm around your shoulders and your own around his waist.

(He’s got pants on, thank Merlin, but you have to help him into a pair of pajamas to make the walk to the Slytherin baths.)

Sebastian balks when you enter the boys’ baths, but you both quickly learn there are no enchantments in place to keep you from joining him. You offer him an arm to lean on while he takes off his pajamas and coughs – this time pointedly – for you to turn around while he sinks into the lukewarm bath you’d drawn.

“This does feel nice,” he finally says once he’s settled in the opaque, murlap-scented water.

“Good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice how your voice has gone up a bit higher than usual. “I’ll be back in a few moments with some fresh pajamas for you.”

“I’ll try not to drown while you’re gone,” he drawls, and even though he still sounds exhausted, you smile to yourself knowing that the bath is already helping him feel more like his usual self.

Hogwarts’ house elves were exceptionally fast in tidying up the boys’ dormitory while the two of you were out, so when you finally lead a clean, dry Sebastian back to his room, you’re thrilled to find freshly laundered sheets and a new pair of pillows waiting for him.

“Gods, I love magic,” he groans as he collapses into bed.

You stay all afternoon and into the evening. Ominis returns shortly before dinner with a brew from Parry Pippin himself, similar to the Pepperup Potion but with cinnamon instead of powdered bicorn horn.

(Sebastian seems to emit thin tendrils of steam straight from the top of his head after he drinks it, but he perks up all the same.)

Feenky herself brings a tray of soup and some leftover scones from breakfast once Sebastian regains his appetite. While he eats, he tells you about how he used to sit with Anne during the summers when she was particularly ill from her curse.

“At the time, I wondered if my being there was more of a help or a hindrance,” he says ruefully. “She was… hard to read, then. I couldn’t tell if she was annoyed by me or appreciated me staying.”

You pause before shyly asking, “Am I helping? By being here?”

“Of course,” he says without thinking.

“Then I’m sure you were helping Anne, even when she was annoyed,” you tell him reassuringly. “That’s all we ever want to do really, isn’t it? Help the ones we love?”

Sebastian glances up at his tray with an inscrutable expression on his face. His eyes are still glassy and he’s a bit peaky, but the cinnamon-laced, not-quite-Pepperup Potion has restored some of the usual warmth in his gaze.

“Right,” he echoes. “Help the ones we love.”

You end up staying the night in the boys’ dormitory. Only Ominis knows you’re there, as he draws the curtains around the both of you before the boys’ other roommates return from the common room. Given that Sebastian seems to be feeling better already, it’s not strictly necessary.

But it feels nice all the same.

—

Friday, October 9, 1891

Sebastian’s fever finally broke during the night.

When you wake up he’s wrapped around you from behind, one of his legs jammed between yours with his arm curled possessively around your waist.

You’re sweltering, but he’s cool to the touch.

“Sebastian,” you whisper, but he doesn’t answer.

Judging by the way sunlight pours over the top of Sebastian’s bed curtains, it’s well past when you’d usually wake up during the school week. You can’t hear any other snoring boys around you, either.

“Sebastian,” you hiss. “Wake up.”

He groans tiredly into your hair as his arm tightens around your waist. “No.”

“N-no?!” you sputter. “It’s morning! We… we should, er.”

You trail off when you realize you aren’t quite sure what you should be doing. Evidently you’ve missed breakfast, and you’ve likely missed the start of Potions for the third day in a row. Professor Sharp will have no choice but to give you a detention; just as well, you suppose, as you can use the time to make up what you’ve missed.

But now that the damage is done…

“How are you feeling?” you ask him softly, your eyes still fixed on the green curtains in front of your face.

“Loads better,” he says, only this time his lips are pressed against the sensitive spot behind your ear.

You gasp as he rolls more of his weight toward you, pressing you more firmly into the mattress.

“Sebastian…” you sigh.

“I had a dream about you last night,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper beneath your ear. “I’ve heard Pepperup Potion can give one strange dreams.”

“St-strange?” you whisper back. “Why was it a strange dream?”

“I suppose it wasn’t really ‘strange,’” he acquiesces. “But it was nice. Really nice.”

“Tell me about it?” you ask breathlessly.

“Perhaps I’ll show you instead,” he asks, and when you nod, he slides his hand down to your hip and turns you onto your back.

Then quite suddenly he’s leaning over you, one knee still between your thighs. He rests on his elbows so his face is just centimeters from yours, and it’s the first time you’ve gotten a good look at him since the boys put out last night’s fire.

Sebastian looks so much better. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are clear and bright, and the sickly sheen of sweat he’d worn for days is entirely gone. (His hair is still a bird’s nest, but that’s to be expected.)

“We were like this,” he tells you.

“Were we just talking?” you ask him, but you’re met with only silence.

After a beat, he asks you, “Why have you been so kind to me this week?”

“You’re my best friend,” you tell him softly. “I – I wanted to help you feel better.”

“Is that all I am?” he asks. “Am I simply your friend?”

You bite your lip hesitantly and his gaze dips down to your mouth, his brown eyes nearly black in the soft morning light.

“Do you want to kiss me, Sebastian?” you ask.

Rather than answering, he surprises you by leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then he lifts one of his hands to gently tip your face toward his, cradling your jaw while he deepens the kiss into one that’s hardly sweet at all.

It feels like it’s perhaps the first time in days that Sebastian has felt hunger.

You gasp his name into his mouth and then he’s the one biting your lip, just a quick graze of his teeth before he soothes your ensuing whine with another slow kiss. He shifts his weight onto his hip to rest on the mattress beside you, using that leg between yours to coax you into lying next to him. He rewards your body’s assent with a filthy kiss – the kind you’ve only read about in those Muggle romance novels you hide under your pillow, the kind where the hero kisses the girl with his tongue in her mouth and his hand in her blouse.

“Seb,” you moan.

“I didn’t know,” he confesses against your lips.

“Didn’t know what?” you whine.

“I didn’t know you loved me until last night,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours.

You’re so distracted by how red and swollen his lips look that you nearly miss him saying, “You stayed with me all week, you held me, practically healed me, and I still didn’t know.”

“Of course I love you,” you tell him.

“You love Ominis, you love Poppy,” he counters. “This – us – is different. Right?”

And the truth is, you would have done anything you’d done for Sebastian for any one of your friends. You would have helped Poppy into a warm bath and back into bed, and you would have sat at Ominis’ bedside all day and torn up pieces of scone to float on the surface of his soup.

But you would not have let them press you into their bedsheets and trace their lips along your neck, and right now Sebastian is eagerly doing both.

“Yes,” you whimper, both in answer to his question and as a plea for more.

“I love you, too,” he sighs against your jaw. “I have for ages, and I didn’t want you to see me all pathetic and poorly, but you still love me anyway.”

“I’ve loved you through worse,” you quietly remind him.

He nips at your throat for that remark; you’ve both agreed to speak of your fifth year as little as possible. Truly, the only reason you’d ever bring it up now is to remind Sebastian that you’ve long since made your choice – him, over duty and the law and perhaps even reason.

“Stay with me,” he pleads. “We have all morning, we have the dormitory to ourselves. Let me take care of you now.”

He pulls your thigh across his own and tangles his fingers in your sleep-mussed hair, holding you against his warm, bare chest.

“That’s tempting,” you breathe. “B-but perhaps we should check with Nurse Blainey, to see if you’re ready to return to–”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he grinds his hips against yours. There’s no mistaking that he’s aroused, and that alone convinces you that he must be feeling well – you’re positive that he would’ve been too weak for this type of debauchery yesterday morning even if you’d gotten fully nude before him and begged.

“Trust me, I feel excellent,” he moans into your mouth. “Love, please.”

You don’t come up for air for a long while after that. By the time Ominis stops by during lunchtime to check on Sebastian, he nearly trips over your skirt, hastily tossed near the doorway.

“I take it you’re feeling better,” he deadpans.

“That potion of yours worked like a charm, Ominis,” Sebastian drawls. “Cinnamon, who would have thought?”

“I don’t suppose I mentioned that Muggles find cinnamon to be an organic aphrodisiac?” Ominis says innocently. “At least, that’s what Mister Pippin said. He told me you might have some rather amorous dreams while you recover.”

“No, I think you forgot to mention that,” Sebastian replies just as innocently.

Ominis simply hums and says, “Well, now that you’ve been made aware, I’ll be off to Herbology. I’d recommend locking the door if our dear friend is going to be keeping you company this afternoon, Sebastian.”

You’re too embarrassed to say a word, but Sebastian cheerfully thanks him as he pulls the door shut and reaches for his wand on his bedside table to magically lock it behind him.

“We’ve become menaces,” you whine as he rolls on top of you once more.

Sebastian grins wickedly down at you. “Not yet we haven’t, but thank Merlin we’ve got all afternoon.”

[covid-safer-hotties]

also preserved on our archive

By Erica Sloan

These days, it’s tempting to compare COVID-19 with the common cold or flu. It can similarly leave you with a nasty cough, fever, sore throat—the full works of respiratory symptoms. And it’s also become a part of the societal fabric, perhaps something you’ve resigned yourself to catching at least a few times in your life (even if you haven’t already). But let’s not forget: SARS-CoV-2 (the virus responsible for COVID) is still relatively new, and researchers are actively investigating the toll of reinfection on the body. While there are still a lot of unknowns, one thing seems to be increasingly true: Getting COVID again and again is a good deal riskier than repeat hits of its seasonal counterparts.

It turns out, SARS-CoV-2 is more nefarious than these other contagious bugs, and our immune response to it, often larger and longer-lasting. COVID has a better ability to camouflage itself in the body, “and it has the keys to the kingdom in the sense that it can unlock any cell and get in,” says Esther Melamed, PhD, an assistant professor in the department of neurology at Dell Medical School, University of Texas Austin, and the research director of the Post-COVID-19 program at UT Health Austin. That’s because SARS-CoV-2 binds to ACE2 receptors, which exist in cells all over your body, from your heart to your gut to your brain. (By contrast, cold and flu viruses replicate mostly in your respiratory tract.)

It only follows that a bigger threat can trigger an outsize immune response. In some people, the body’s reaction to COVID can turn into a “cytokine storm,” Dr. Melamed tells SELF, which is characterized by an excessive release of inflammatory proteins that can wreak havoc on multiple organ systems—not a common scenario for your garden-variety cold or flu. But even a “mild” case of COVID can throw your immune system into a tizzy as it works to quickly shore up your defenses. And each reinfection is a fresh opportunity for the virus to win the battle.

While you develop some immunity after a COVID infection, it doesn’t just grow with each additional hit. You might be thinking, “Aren’t I more protected against COVID and less likely to have a serious case after having been infected?” Part of that is true, to an extent. In the first couple years after COVID burst onto the scene, reinfections were generally (though not always) milder than a person’s initial bout of the virus. “The way we understand classic immunology is that your body will say to a virus [it’s seen before], ‘Oh, I know how to deal with you, and I’m now going to deal with you in a better way the second time around,’” says Ziyad Al-Aly, PhD, a clinical epidemiologist at Washington University in St. Louis School of Medicine and the chief of research and development at the Veterans Affairs St. Louis Health Care System.

But any encounter with COVID can also cause your immune system to “go awry or develop some form of dysfunction,” Dr. Al-Aly tells SELF. Specifically, “immune imprinting” can happen, where, upon a second (or third or fourth) exposure to the virus, your immune cells launch the same response as they did for the initial infection, in turn blocking or limiting the development of new antibodies necessary to fight off the current variant that’s stirring up trouble. So, “when you get hit an [additional] time, your immune system may not behave classically,” Dr. Al-Aly says, and could struggle with mounting a good defense.

Pair that dip in immune efficiency with the fact that your antibody levels also wane with time post-infection, and it’s easy to see how another hit can rock your body in a new way. Indeed, the more time that passes after any given COVID infection, the less of a “competitive advantage” you’ll have against any future one, Richard Moffitt, PhD, an associate professor at Emory University, in Atlanta, tells SELF. His research found that, while people who got sick initially during the delta phase were less likely to get reinfected during the first omicron wave (as compared to folks who were infected in a prior period), that benefit leveled off with following omicron variants.

There’s also the fact that no matter how your immune system has responded to a prior strain (or strains!) of the virus, it could react differently to a new mutation. “We tend to think of COVID as one homogeneous thing, but it’s really not,” Dr. Al-Aly says. So even if your body successfully thwarted one of these intruders in the past, there’s no guarantee it’ll do the same for another, now or in the future, he says.

Getting COVID again and again is especially risky if it previously made you very ill. Dr. Moffitt’s study above also found that the “severity of your first infection is very predictive of the severity of a reinfection,” he says. Meaning, you’re more likely to have a severe case of COVID—for instance, requiring hospitalization or intensive care, such as ventilation—when reinfected if you had a rough go of it the first time around.

It’s possible that some folks are more prone to an off-kilter immune response to the virus, which could then happen consistently with reinfections. The antibodies created in people who’ve had severe cases “may not function as well as those in folks who’ve had mild infections or were able to fight the virus off,” Dr. Melamed says. Though researchers don’t fully understand why, some people’s immune systems are also more likely to overreact to COVID (remember the cytokine storm?), which can cause serious symptoms—like fluid in the lungs and shortness of breath—whenever they’re infected.

Being over the age of 65, having a chronic illness or other medical condition, and lacking access to health care have all been shown to spike your risk of serious outcomes with a COVID infection, whether it’s your first or fifth fight with the virus.

But you’re not home free if you’ve only had, say, a brief fever or cough with COVID in the past; Dr. Moffitt points out that a small subset of people in his research who had minor reactions with their initial infection went on to be hospitalized with a repeat hit. The probability of that might be lower, but it’s still a possibility, he says.

Even if you’ve only had “mild” cases, each reinfection strains your body, upping your chances of developing long COVID. A 2022 study led by Dr. Al-Aly found that COVID reinfections also increase your risk of complications across the board, regardless of whether you recovered just fine in the past or got vaccinated. In particular, it showed that reinfection raises the likelihood that you’ll need hospitalization; have heart or lung problems; or experience, among other possible issues, GI, neurological, mental health, or musculoskeletal symptoms. “We use the term ‘cumulative effects,’” Dr. Al-Aly says, “so, multiple hits accrue and then leave the body more vulnerable to all the potential long-term health effects of COVID.”

That doesn’t mean your experience of a second (or third or fourth) infection will necessarily be worse, in and of itself, than what you felt during a prior case. But with each new hit, a fresh batch of the virus seeps into your system, where, even if you have a mild case, it has another chance to trigger any of the longer-term complications above. While the likelihood of getting long COVID (a constellation of symptoms lingering for three months or longer post-infection) is likely greatest after initial infection, “The bottom line is, people are still getting diagnosed with long COVID after reinfection,” Dr. Moffitt says.

Researchers don’t totally know why one person might deal with lasting health effects over another, but it seems that, in some folks, the immune system misfires, generating not only antibodies to attack the virus but also autoantibodies that go after the body’s own healthy cells, Dr. Al-Aly says. This may be one reason why COVID has been linked to the onset of autoimmune conditions like psoriasis and rheumatoid arthritis.

A different hypothesis suggests that pieces of the virus could linger in the body, even after a person has seemingly “recovered” (reminder that SARS-CoV-2 is scarily good at weaseling its way into all sorts of cells). “Maybe the first time, your immune system was able to fully clear it, but the second time, it found a way to hang around,” Dr. Al-Aly posits. And a third theory involves your gut microbiome, the community of microbes in your GI tract, including beneficial bacteria. It’s conceivable that “when we get sick with COVID, these bacteria do, too, and perhaps they recover [on initial infection], but not on the second or third hit,” he says, throwing off your balance of good-to-bad gut bugs (which can impact your health in all sorts of ways).

Another unnerving possibility: The shock to your system triggered by COVID may “wake up” a latent (a.k.a. dormant) virus or two lurking in your body, Dr. Melamed says. We all carry anywhere from eight to 12 of these undetected bugs at a time—things like Epstein-Barr, varicella-zoster (which causes chickenpox and shingles), and herpes simplex. And research suggests their reactivation could be a contributing factor in long COVID. Separately, the systemic inflammation often created by COVID may spark the onset of high blood pressure and increased clotting (which can up your risk of stroke and pulmonary embolism), as well as type 2 diabetes, Dr. Melamed says.

There’s no guarantee that any given COVID infection snowballs into something debilitating, but each hit is like another round of Russian roulette, Dr. Al-Aly says. From a sheer numbers standpoint, the more times you play a game with the possibility of a negative outcome, the greater your chances are of that bad result occurring. And because every COVID case has at least some potential to leave you very ill or dealing with a host of persistent symptoms, why take the risk any more times than you need to?

Bottom line: You should do your best to avoid COVID reinfection and bolster your defenses against the virus. At this stage of the pandemic’s progression, it’s not realistic to suggest you can avoid any exposure to the virus, given that societal protections against its spread have been rolled back. But what you should do is take some common-sense precautions, which can help you avoid any contagious respiratory virus. (A cold or the flu may not pose as many potential health risks as COVID, but being sick is still not fun!)

It’s a good idea to wear a mask when you’re in a crowded environment (especially indoors), choose well-ventilated or outdoor spaces for group hangouts, and test for COVID if you have cold or flu-like symptoms, Dr. Al-Aly says. If you do get infected, talk to your doctor about whether your personal risk of a severe case is enough to qualify for a Paxlovid prescription (which you need to take within the first five days of symptoms for it to be effective).

The other important thing you should do is get the updated COVID vaccine (the 2024-2025 formula was recently approved and released). Unlike getting reinfected, the vaccine triggers “a very targeted immune response…because it’s [made with] a specific tiny part of the virus,” Dr. Melamed says. Meaning, you get the immune benefit of a little exposure without the potential of your whole system going haywire. Getting the current shot also ensures you restore any protection that has waned since you received a prior jab and that you have an effective shield against the dominant circulating strains. Plus, research shows that being vaccinated doesn’t just lower your chances of catching the virus; it also reduces your risk of having a severe case or winding up with long COVID if you do get it.

So, too, can the deceivingly simple act of keeping up with healthy habits—like exercising regularly, eating nutritious foods, and clocking quality sleep. Maintaining this kind of lifestyle can help you stave off other health issues that could increase your risk of harm from COVID, Harlan Krumholz, PhD, a cardiologist at Yale University and founder of the Yale Center for Outcomes Research and Evaluation (CORE), tells SELF. “Given that we will be repetitively exposed to the virus, the best investments we can make are in our baseline health,” he says.

Doing any (or all!) of the above is a big act of compassion for yourself, the people you love, and your greater community. “For the average person, it’s like, ‘Oh, COVID is gone,’ but they’re just not seeing the impact,” Dr. Al-Aly says, noting the invisibility of long COVID symptoms like disorienting brain fog and crushing fatigue. The truth is, in plenty of people, just one more infection could be the difference between living their best life and facing a devastating chronic condition.

[lewkwoodnco]

You look like shit - Lockwood x Reader

One time you told lockwood he looked like shit and four times he told you you looked like shit

“You look like shit.”

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re in a hospital bed but I’m the one who looks like shit.”

“Exactly, you look spectacularly terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“I tried, but my sorry excuse of a boss got his ass kicked by some Type Two, so here I am.”

“Doesn’t your sorry excuse of a boss write your cheques?”

“Have I mentioned how fond I am of my sorry excuse of a boss?”

a/n: just a little drabble i typed up having been inspired by this post :)

tropes/warnings: mostly fluffy, some mentions of grief, slight description of injury, smidge of flirty-ish banter 🙈🙈

wc: 1.5k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

“You look like shit.”

Lockwood froze with his mug halfway to his mouth. He gaped at her briefly before setting the mug down once the shock passed. She was Lockwood & Co.'s newest employee and it was only recently that the ice had been sufficiently broken for their interactions to evolve into something more than a passing smile or greeting. This, however, was more than he had expected. He was possessed by a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh.

"It's like, 10 in the morning, and you already look exhausted. Do you ever sleep?"

He struggled with his words for a moment. "...yes. Sometimes."

"Not enough, clearly."

He did look especially worse for wear that morning. Only just recovering from a mild flu, his insomnia was at an all-time high and the lack of sun over the past week had his skin looking nearly transparent. He was a frail, washed-out thing flitting restlessly between rooms, bemoaning all the cases he was missing out on while cooped up here.

He smiled for what felt like the first time in days. She coughed, embarrassed, feeling like she had grossly overstepped.

"I mean...you don't look that horrible."

Fortunately, Lucy chose that exact moment to walk in and sufficiently distract Lockwood with the details of their newest case and she took the opportunity to duck out of the room. What the hell had she been thinking?

"H- oh, you look like shit."

She emerged from behind the counter through a cloud of steam, her hair resting on her shoulders like a large, frizzy, brittle rat. While he and George had spent the morning at the Archives, she had spent it at Portland Row preparing Fesenjān for their lunch as part of some stupid bet she had made with George.

"Oh, good, you're back. You took your time."

"George is still there so Lucy's going in to hel-"

She cut him off by shoving a spoon of hot stew into his mouth.

"Taste."

Lockwood spluttered around the spoon, mouth working furiously to cool the scalding food while she watched him intently.

"Well?"

"It's...it's good."

"As good as George's?"

He grimaced. "I don't think I should be taking sides in this." He didn't even want to think about George finding out.

"This isn't taking sides. But also, if anyone asks, you weren't here. So...?" She fixed a desperate look on him. Lockwood sighed.

"It could use a little more salt."

"Angel." She turned around, pulling out the salt while he watched her with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. The crazy hair suited her in some odd way.

“You look like shit.”

He had meant for it to come out as teasing but at the sight of her tearstained face, it sounded terribly mean. He had found her sitting on the front steps late one evening when he was about to turn in, only a thin hoodie insulating her from the harsh cold. Her head whipped around at the sound of his voice, a hand carelessly dragged across her face. He took a seat next to her, dropping his voice.

"Everything alright?"

She swallowed, eyes trained on their shoes. Her voice was hoarse with disuse.

"One of my friends moved away a couple of years back. She's been in an accident."

"How bad of an accident?"

There was a tightness in her chest that made it difficult to go on. "The worst."

In a rare moment of weakness, she crumbled, sagging against Lockwood like she had no spine left to hold herself upright. He wrapped a warm, comforting arm around her, and the simple gesture was enough to break her down. She cried into his shirt, cried for the friend she would never see again, cried for the part of her childhood that had chipped off and floated away into some abyss. Cried while he held her.

"I can't -" she hiccuped, unable to hold back a poorly concealed sob. "I can't even remember the last thing I said to her." It felt like an awful thing to admit, something sinful and evil, something that made it impossible for her to shake the tremble from her hands. His hold on her tightened a fraction, like he was holding her shattered pieces together, and she clung to his shirt with all the despair of a shipwrecked passenger.

Maybe it was selfish, but she didn't want him to leave. And so he stayed.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

They had just returned from a job at some old, abandoned building set to be torn down in a few months. George and Lucy were handling some other case at the other end of the city, so the sounds of them shucking off their coats and gear echoed through the empty house. Between the two of them, she was always more prone to going ham on their cases. Today, it was in the form of her barrelling full tilt through a series of cobwebs to serve as a distraction. The case had ended with Lockwood hurriedly bagging the Source and her pink-faced and speckled with the grey strings.

Back at Portland Row's kitchen, there was still a lingering tinge of warmth to her cheeks. Lockwood paused by the cupboard where she was pulling out some mugs and plates, idly picking off the remaining strands still loosely clinging to her hair and shoulders. As his movements slowed, fading into something more gentle and meticulous, she glanced at him. He looked back. The cobwebs now littered the little space between them, but still he did not move away. The back of her neck prickled under his wretchedly attentive gaze. She did not know how to look away.

"Tea?" she croaked out, throat embarrassingly taut with choked-back emotion.

Whatever spell that had settled over them broke. Lockwood reeled back, almost noisily busying himself with fishing out the biscuit tin, forcing something nonchalant into his voice.

"Sure."

They spent the rest of their night operating with an invisible bubble between them, neither of them daring to get too close to the other lest a brush of the hand shattered the pallid illusion they were play-acting in. The house was far too quiet that night, filled with the unbearably soothing sounds of their cutlery, the rain and their breathing. Lockwood fiddled with his mug. She scratched at a particularly obscene message etched into the thinking cloth. He dragged a shoe along the scuffed kitchen floors. She drummed her fingers restlessly, watching the seconds tick by excruciatingly slow on the clock.

Where the hell were George and Lucy?

“You look like shit.”

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re in a hospital bed but I’m the one who looks like shit.”

She was in a gleaming, sterile hospital room, painfully twisted into some uncomfortable plastic chair after a night of fitful sleep and checking to make sure Lockwood was still alive. Lockwood had gone out for a solo case and she had been waiting up, expecting him to return any minute when the hospital called. Luckily, it was nothing fatal, but enough to keep him out of commission for a while. Enough to make her worry.

“Exactly, you look spectacularly terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“I tried, but my sorry excuse of a boss got his ass kicked by some Type Two, so here I am.”

“Doesn’t your sorry excuse of a boss write your cheques?”

“Have I mentioned how fond I am of my sorry excuse of a boss?”

He quirked a smile at that, then immediately winced. She lightly tilted his bruised face just as he raised a tentative hand to the stitches on his lip, their fingers brushing against each other for a fraction of a second. He looked at her questioningly, unable to see how it was healing himself, and she thought it was extremely unfair to have eyes as disarming as his. She shoved down the stab of sympathy at the unexpectedly vulnerable sight. Hospital gowns really did a number on how strong, or lack thereof, a patient seemed.

“Poor baby. Do you need someone to kiss it better?”

“You could kiss me better.”

“You…are clearly still concussed. Where on earth is your nurse?”

She stood and busied herself by sticking her head out the door and looking for his nurse, which was most definitely not an attempt to hide the flush creeping up her neck. After a few minutes of futile searching, she returned, alarmed at how wan Lockwood was starting to seem.

“I don’t remember getting a concussion,” he murmured, closing his aching eyes.

“Of course you wouldn’t. That’s how concussions work. Idiot.” She tried to keep her tone light, but he cracked an eye open as if he had heard something in her voice. He slipped her fingers through hers casually and she felt the tension in his stiff shoulders ease.

"You should sleep," she tried gently. His thumb slowly traced hers drowsily. Still, he forced his eyes open with considerable effort. Looked at her like she was all he wanted to see for the rest of his life.

"In a minute."

It was the first of the lifetime of minutes ahead of them.

TAGLIST: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cielooci @midnight--raine @mohinithoughts @neewtmas @snoopyluver20 @ahead-fullofdreams @elenianag080 @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @mitskiswift99

[swampgallows]

There is more COVID-19 transmission today (January 2024) than during 94.7% of the pandemic.

💉 Please get the updated (new, not a booster) Covid vaccine. If you're in the US, ask your local pharmacy about the Bridge Access Program for free vaccines. You can also search vaccines.gov then select Bridge Access Program participant.

If you do not want an mRNA vaccine for whatever reason, consider Novavax: it is protein-based like other typical vaccines from the last few decades, and many (including myself) report minimal side effects. Talk to your doctor if you have questions or concerns.

😷 Wear a mask in public and/or any enclosed areas. "Mask" means a respirator of KN95/N95 filtration or higher, not a cloth or surgical (blue) mask. Covid is airborne, so an airtight seal and particulate filter is necessary for protection. Different kinds of respirators are used for everything from toxic fumes to asbestos removal; when worn properly, they greatly reduce risk.

Here is a guide for proper use and fitting of a respiratory mask.

Here is a short video by 3M (respirator manufacturer) on the importance of fit-testing.

🧪 Have tests ready. With the new variants it can sometimes take 5-8 days to test positive, so be sure to test twice, 48 hours apart. If you're in the US, you can get 4 free rapid tests sent to your home through USPS. Local schools and libraries also may have free rapid tests. If you qualify for the Test to Treat program, you can receive free at-home NAAT tests and treatment for both flu AND Covid, and access to telehealth. The earlier you test positive, the more likely you will be eligible for treatment with Paxlovid.

🔁 If you can afford it, air purifiers and HEPA filters can help reduce transmission. Making a Corsi-Rosenthal box is simple and inexpensive. If weather permits, keeping windows open helps. Ventilation allows fresh air to circulate.

👃 Nasal sprays and CPC mouthwash are other useful prophylactic measures when used in conjunction with PPE and other modes of mitigation like masking and distancing.

🚬There is still a risk of Covid when outside, similar to exposure from secondhand smoke or a fire. Since Covid is spread through aerosols, it can hang in the air like smoke.

🐶 As with other coronaviruses, many household pets can get Covid. If you have been exposed, avoid contact with animals.

"But I'm not old or weak. Why should I care?"

☣ Covid can still kill you or disable you for life, even if your initial sickness is "mild". Even if you are young and have no preexisting conditions. 90% of the original "long haulers" had "mild" cases.

🩺 Covid increases your risk of stroke, blood clots, and heart disease by 2 to 5 times within a year of infection. It can also cause brain damage, which is part of the loss of taste and smell and cognitive symptoms like brain fog.

🩸 Covid is able to infect multiple organ systems because it travels through the bloodstream and attacks the mitochondria, leading to dysfunction and chronic fatigue.

⚠ Reinfection doesn't make your body better at fighting Covid; it just does more damage to your immune system, akin to HIV. A damaged immune system is worse at fighting off illness, more susceptible to infection, and can lead to serious complications like pneumonia. And with every reinfection, your chances of developing Long Covid increase. Therefore, the best protection for your immune system is to avoid getting Covid as much as possible.

I know everyone is tired of this. But if there was any time to be vigilant, it is now. Please, let's protect each other.

[dailymanners]

IF it can be helped at all, stay home when you are sick to prevent your illness from spreading to others, even if it's not a "serious" illness and is just a common cold, a common cold can still be really detrimental anyone with a weakened or compromised immune system from conditions including, but not limited to, leukemia, HIV, and hepatitis. And you can never know if one of your co-workers or a customer or a random stranger at the store has or lives with someone who has one of these conditions.

Not everyone can help it, some people risk losing their job if they call in sick, and not everyone has someone they can call on to run to the store for essentials while they're sick.

In these cases at least consider wearing a mask while you're in public so as to prevent spreading your sickness to co-workers / customers / random strangers you encounter while out in public. There are several cultures where even pre-COVID times it was considered rude to go out in public without a mask even if you had a simple cold because of it being inconsiderate to spread your sickness to others.

Now, if it can be helped at all, if you have a job where you can call in sick without losing your income, or if you have a job where you can work form home, or if you have anyone at all you can call on to run to the store for you to grab essentials, use that!

"Oh but I don't want to inconvenience my co-workers by having them down a person today, what if they really need my help?" You know what's going to inconvenience them more is when you make everyone at work sick, and some of them might either have a compromised immune system or live with someone who does.

"Oh but I don't want to inconvenience my friend by asking them to grab some essentials from the store for me while I'm sick!" You know what's going to be more inconvenient is when you spread your sickness to that dad you stood in line behind at the store who has a child at home withe leukemia, or a spouse with HIV.

And again, of course not everyone has an option. Some people risk losing their income if they call into work sick, or they don't have anyone who they can call on to get essentials from the store for them. But again, at least consider masking up to mitigate the risk of spreading your illness to vulnerable people who could be seriously harmed by even a common cold or mild flu.

[cozymoko]

You wanted requests, right? So what if it was the other way around? Yandere Siyun Baek having to take care of his girlfriend that got sick?

(I hope this requests isn't too boring, love your blog btw ❤❤)

SIYUN BAEK WITH A SICK S/O

Manhwa: “Dreaming Freedom” ~~~~!

Note: Its perfect! Thank you for requesting! Also thank you for reading, you made my day. ♡

Pairing: Siyun Baek x female! reader

Format: Headcanons; 2nd person

WARNING(S): Yandere themes, obsession, mild spoilers

Word Count: ???

It's ALLERGY and/or FLU SEASON, and unfortunately, you've fallen very ill. Best case scenario you'll have a cold and nothing more; a high fever at the worst. But either way, Siyun isn't complaining.

You can't go anywhere? Great! You feel like absolute shit and can barely move from your bed? Oh my, even better! Besides working out, Siyun doesn't have much to pass his time with. He's lonely without you, often finding himself watching the clock, counting the minutes — seconds before you return to him.

But seeing you tucked tightly beneath the pastel duvet, wrapped in a small cocoon. Your cheeks lightly flushed a rather feverish hue, as ragged breaths slipped past your dry lips. Call him crazy but you're absolutely adorable. He could hardly keep his hands to himself!

“Y'know, you look really cute like this {Name}.”

You huffed, “You almost look happy that I'm in this situation.” With a light shove, you pushed his face away from your own for what felt like the thousandth time. Finally ditching the thick sheets, you turn away from him, welcoming the chilled puffs of air to your warm skin.

“Would you be mad if I said I was?” Siyun asked, snaking his arms around your waist, pressing his cheek into the tender skin of your own. “God, you're adorable...”

“Yes. Now, let go; I'm burning up.”

Siyun is CLINGY as it is. Therefore, you being bedridden to some degree is right up his alley. Personal space has never been a thing in your relationship, and he's not going to let a little flu stop him. Embracing you, suffocating you with his body; it's all too easy! Pressing sweet, chaste kisses along the warm skin of your neck. Sneakily, dragging his slender fingers beneath the flimsy silk of your pajamas.

In all honesty, he'd rather have you stay at his house until you feel well again. It works pretty well, convenience-wise. It stops him from wrenching your door open, occupying your home with the crying of loud unwavering hinges. Or perhaps even sneaking through your window.

You being so vulnerable excites him in more ways than he'd care to admit. He truly is a pervert. Chewing on his pink lips, even digging his nails into his milky skin, no longer seems to be enough. Though his desires are anything but malicious, Siyun can't help the wandering of his young mind to many, many impure places.

Your parents already adore him, let's be honest! Thus, convincing them to let you stay the night or week should be a piece of cake. It's almost scary, the way he speaks to your parents; so polite and dare I say perfect. It's truly no surprise that he was a former idol, a famous one at that. How could your adoring mother and father not allow such a kind man to nurture and care for your well-being?

Siyun brings your head to his chest, relishing in the heat you radiate. His hands had fallen past your waist, toying with the thin band of your thin shorts. You give his chest a weak push, as a pitiful attempt to distance yourself. But it was no use, he merely pulled you closer, much to your dismay.

“Siyun...” You breathed out, weakly clawing at his slender hands. “Stop this, you're going to get sick.”

He hummed, “Is that so?” Though his hands showed no sign of leaving your waist. Instead, they tugged you flush against his chest with a low chuckle. Warm breath tickled the back of your neck, making you tense in anticipation.

“Then I guess we're just gonna have to be sick together~!” ♡

Let's say you're a STUDENT; high school or college, it's your choice. And due to your abrupt sickness, you're bound to miss at least a handful of classes. But fret not my dear, your classmates are itching to help you out. I mean, you're dating the Siyun Baek after all, just a glance at him could send anything girl into a frenzy!

Thankfully, your teacher settled for your seatmate. A kind, extroverted guy who you got along with quite well. He had managed to get your number due to a recent project and was quick to alert you of his unexpected arrival.

[CHOI BYUNG-CHUL]

➤ Heya [Last Name], the teacher asked me to bring sum missin assignments to ur place. Is that okey with u?

SENT; 17:23

You snort at the scrambled characters, finding some charm amongst the male's easy mistakes. It wasn't something unusual as he was an infamous clutz in your class. So he was likely texting while typing, again. Your fingers hover over the luminous keyboard, before eventually sending him a simple response.

[YOU] ➤ Yeah, it's fine lol. But I'm not home so come to this address “XX XXXX Avenue/Drive/Street” SENT; 17:25

➤ Have a safe trip. :)

SENT; 17:25

While immersed in your phone, you had yet to notice a certain someone looming over you in displeasure. From lack of attention, perhaps. But you had never been one to allow technology to soak up your time, nonetheless when you're ill. So who could possibly be taking up your time? He pondered, glaring hard at the device resting on your hand.

Pulling back the covers, Siyun moved to join you beneath the spotless sheets of the mattress. The dipping of the bed didn't bother you, let alone pull you from the flashing screen of your phone. The ex-idol sighed loudly, shifting to take the pesky item from your protective grip. Only to be brushed off by a bored, dismissive hand.

He. Was. Livid.

“Babe~!” Siyun cooed, though his tone lacked even an ounce of playfulness. “What on your phone could possibly be so damn interestin—” DING DONG!

Whew! Saved by the bell.

“I'll get it.” He murmured under his breath, tossing the thick duvet to the side. The man was quick to leave in long, haste strides, but not before his eyes flicked to your stunned form one last time.

Now, Siyun had expected a lot of things, but this surely wasn't one of them. A shorter male, about five feet seven inches, no older than nineteen was at his door. His mousy brown hair was a mess, and he had a lightly tinted folder tucked tightly beneath his arm.

“H-hi, I'm one of [Last Name]'s classmates and I brought some papers to her.” Byung-Chul commenced, frantically unzipping the top of his backpack. “She — uhm, texted me this address.”

Oh, now it all made sense. The persistent flashing of your phone, snatching your attention right from his grasp. The lighthearted giggles that'd leave your mouth ever so often. Friendly, that they were. Giggles that held no sense of love; merely admiration and glee. Even so, it wasn't good enough.

One could say the latter is quite bitter. And if If looks could kill, your friend would be six — no, ten feet under! And that's being generous. But Siyun knows better than to let his bad side show. Heh, who am I kidding?

A faux smile tugged at the corner of his lips, one he was all too familiar with using. “Ah, I see. Thanks for coming...?”

“Choi Byung-Chul!” He chirped, handing the papers to the former idols' outstretched hand.

“Heh, right,” Siyun scoffs, disinterested. He lazily takes the folder from the male, leaning in a bit too close for comfort. “Since you're already here, I have a little favor for you. If you're up for it.”

“I...um — yeah, sure,” Byung-Chul stammered, looking over the time blaring from the smartwatch adorning his wrist. “I can spare a few minutes. What's up—?”

A sharp pain shot through the poor man's abdomen in mere seconds, sending him crumbling to his knees. Siyun loosely shook his wrist in the air, allowing the gentle breeze to cool the slight stinting of his knuckles. A cold, lifeless expression grazed the face of the once-beloved idol as he watched the man wither beneath his gaze.

“Stay away from [Name]. I wouldn't want anyth ing bad to happen to you~!”

[i-arch-my-backula]

Horror characters taking care of their sick s/o

I'm in my sick Victorian boy era. I'm being dramatic because I have a mild case of the flu. I need to write something to keep myself sane so why not write for some characters I haven't written about for awhile.

Includes: Amanda Young, Adam Faulkner, Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, and Pyramid head

Warnings: Reader is sick, some of these characters aren't super smart, mentions of vomit and medication, vague talk of cannibalism and violence

Amanda Young

Amanda has basic medical knowledge and when she sees you getting sick she's quick to get you to stay in bed and will be a little overbearing. She's been taking care of John for awhile and seeing her partner sick makes her very worried.

She's going to spend any free time she has taking care of you. She knows you're going to be fine but that's not going to stop her from becoming your personal nurse.

She wants to avoid using medication unless a doctor tells her to use them. She thinks because medication isn't working for John that must mean it won't really work for you.

She knows to keep some distance but she's still going to be around you and touch you. She might intentionally spend more time around you then get closer to Hoffman to try and get him sick.

She might talk to Lawrence about what she should be doing and your symptoms. If you know that she's a jigsaw apprentice she'll introduce you to him as her coworker. But if you don't she'll either bribe him into seeing you or just take his advice.

She is reminded of what happened at the gas house and if you're sick enough that you start to throw she'll need to leave the room and probably spend some time to compose herself. I strongly believe that what jigsaw did to her really messed her up but she denies it.

Adam Faulkner

Oh my god if he finds out you're sick I hope you're ready for him to try and help but honestly just make a fool of himself.

You're hopefully not living in his apartment anymore and depending on your temperature and the weather he's going to keep your bedroom window open because "fresh air helps".

He thinks that he doesn't have to keep space from you because you're dating and he probably ends up getting sick himself. But no matter how much you tell him to stay away so he doesn't get sick he won't listen.

While he's out working (probably for jigsaw) he'll leave out medication for you to take, food you can heat up or just eat cold, and probably gives you anything you need to stay entertained.

If you call him for anything he's dropping whatever he's doing to go help you. You have to literally tell him several times that he doesn't have to rush home and you can stay on your own while he works.

He probably doesn't have any insurance just by judging his apartment so unless you absolutely need to see a doctor he's going to be the one taking care of you.

Will Graham

His medical knowledge is better than some people in these head canons but it's still not the best. I feel like if it's anything than a mild case of the cold or the flu he's taking you to a doctor.

Probably looks up if human illnesses can transfer to dogs. Either way he's keeping his dogs away from you until you feel better.

Will not let you out of bed unless you're going to the bathroom. He deals with blood and guts for a living so dealing with someone who's sick is probably a vacation for him.

Will is going to try to keep Hannibal away from you while you're sick for so many reasons. But Hannibal is probably going to end up seeing you anyway because Will is going to cave.

If the weather and your health allows he's going to take you outside for fresh air like you're a consumption patient from 1912. He will let his dogs around you if you're outside.

Will guilt Jack into letting him stay home for a few days to take care of you. He is going to bring up everything Jack has ever done to him. "Hey Jack I need to stay home to take care of my partner. I know you'll let me take it off since you made me work while I had ensyphilitis."

Hannibal Lecter

He's a literal doctor but also a fucking weirdo so be careful. He'll still take good care of you but will also take the time to get into philosophical discussions with you while you're half asleep.

He refuses to give you anything store bought to eat. Will literally make crackers and break from scratch for you to eat. He'll lay off on the human meat until you're better.

Will not allow you to use one of his bowls as a "throw up bowl" You're using the bathroom to do so, he doesn't care if you accidentally vomit on his floors because he can clean the floor, but his bowls are too valuable.

He won't let you spend all day looking at screens. Hannibal will provide you with any kind of entertainment you want to get you off screens for awhile. He will get you whatever books you want or any other low energy activity.

Will insist on keeping your space clean. Will wash your sheets often and insists on giving you a bath, the temperature depending on if you have a fever or not.

He will keep a sort of distance from you but will also be near you. He will take precautions of course but he can't stop himself from spending time in your room, talking with you.

Pyramid head

He has little knowledge of human illnesses, because he's a demi god of sorts he never really gets sick. So when he sees you get cold sweats or start having a bad cough he's confused about why it's happening. '

You'll have to educate him on your condition and tell him what he needs to do to help you. I don't think there's any medication you can take in silent hill but he can probably find you something to help.

He also probably can't get sick so he doesn't have to worry about getting too close to you. If you try to pull away from him to hide your cough or sneeze he'll just pull you back. Even if he did get a cold from you he'd get over it pretty quickly.

He'll honestly want to be pretty touchy all the time even when you're not sick because he's never had human contact before. You'll probably have to explain to him that cuddling isn't the best thing when you have a fever.

He's going to try and get you as comfortable as possible while he's busy doing Pyramid Head stuff. It all depends on your condition and you'll have to explain to him what you need.

He also doesn't really understand germs so you'll have to explain them to him and why you need to keep yourself and your area clean and why you can't just throw up anywhere. After that he'll get you something to use for that then just throw it somewhere.

[ghost-bxrd]

Headcanons for hurt Fae!Dick Grayson?

What can hurt Dick? How does the family react when he is hurt, and they are possibly clueless how to help him or if he would be okay?

How does the manor and surroundings react when Dick is hurt, especially if he is badly hurt enough to be unaware what is happening? Or if it is one of the family's fault (unintentionally) that he got hurt?

Ksksks I totally expected this ask to come in at one point or another.

Alright, so with other creatures it’s kind of tricky.

The traditional fae can be hurt by iron, and while this particular version of fae!dick certainly doesn’t like it (at all) it’s more of a… strong allergic reaction than anything. And only if he’s exposed to it long enough.

What can truly hurt an other… well, that depends on the individual. On what they’re tied to, and what feeds their existence.

Some of the other beings live in the shadows, hiding.

For instance, my family used to tell a sort of story where a kind creature would wait for us at the very top of our house, and when it saw us coming home it would make sure it was safe for us to enter and then turn on the light if it was. If it wasn’t, the house would remain dark. Obviously I wanted to catch a glimpse of that “creature”, but stopped immediately when I was told that if I laid eyes on it, the creature would vanish forever.

So this particular other was dependent on remaining “unseen” to keep existing. Another kind would depend on having stories keep being told about them. Yet another creature would need to keep consuming a certain food to stay alive.

I headcanon that Fae!Dick would irrevocably tie himself to Wayne Manor, the surrounding lands, and its occupants to keep himself alive. Which in return makes him very powerful! But also very vulnerable.

He would quite literally feel family members getting hurt, depending on the severity of the injury. His connection to the manor and the lands would mean that any kind of environmental poisoning or damage going on inside the boundaries of his “domain” would directly affect Dick, ranging from mild discomfort to a sort of “withering”.

If what happens was severe enough to cause Dick to become temporarily unaware of his surroundings then nature would react accordingly. If he’s outside manor grounds during this instance, then it would be mostly animals responding to his pain and attacking anybody in close vicinity he isn’t tied to. (Animals with very strange and discordant features)

If he’s inside manor grounds… the entire place becomes ground zero for “magical” activity. Nobody would be able to get in or out. Any kind of “demolishing” going on would be stopped by some very angry plants and animals.

… unless the damage to the lands is too great. In that case Dick wouldn’t be able to do much, and everything that is/was dependent on his magic to grow would quickly atrophy. :(

The family probably wouldn’t really know how to properly deal with it the first time it happens. Obviously there’s the physical repercussions of Dick’s injury they’d have to deal, which usually has roots in something else so treating it wouldn’t be like treating the flu or a paper cut. They’d have to find whatever is wrong with the land (or one of the family) to help Dick.

Of course there’s also the possibility of an other creature hurting Dick. Or a very lucky criminal manages to land a hit (maybe even with an iron bullet). In that case Dick would be looking at a much longer recovery period than a regular human.

Fae!Dick is very difficult to injure, but he’s also very slow to heal.

[thealexandriaarchives]

Heads up for anyone who hasn't gotten your flu and/or Covid shot yet!

Kroger sucks but I have to give them props, they're offering you grocery money to get vaccinated.

You can get up to $20 in grocery money from Kroger right now just for getting your Flu shot & Covid Booster.

Or $5 for just a flu shot! Or if you already got your Covid booster get the $20 by pairing it with another vaccine like RSV or Pneumonia or Hepatitis if you're vulnerable!

Must go to a Kroger owned pharmacy

Must not have federally funded health insurance like Medicaid or Medicaid

Get your flu shot

If you're doing both get your booster in the same visit to qualify

Tell the pharmacist you want your Money when you check out and give them your Kroger rewards card. (Mine is Fred Meyer's etc. Or sign up for one for free first.

This will cover the cost of your shot if you have no insurance, but be a bonus if you're insured!

Getting both at the same time will make you feel like crap (not that day, the next day) but WILL make your immune system better than just getting one at once and get it over with. Influenza and Covid will both also weaken your immune system if you get them, even mild cases, so you're more at risk to catch follow-up infections. Not just for your community, but for yourself - get immunized and have a couple slightly cruddy days instead of a couple awful weeks or worse!

[strawberry-cowmilk]

Lucifer, diavolo,barbatos, separatly please! find out their lover fem mc is pregnant with their child if that's okay thank you!

Hi! That's so cute! I hope you like what I made of it

they find out mc is pregnant

-> lucifer, diavolo and barbatos x mc

mc is female, not proof read

content warnings: pregnancy, throwing up and really mild suggestive content (diavolo's part), mild angst but fluffy otherwise (lucifer's part)

-----

Lucifer

he notices the slightest change you go through very fast

it started with just sore breasts and fatigue, lucifer didn't think much of it because he knows pms might cause this

but then you started showing more suspicious symptoms and there was no period to be seen, lucifer already knew what time it was

still, he took you to a doctor just to make sure, and yep you were pregnant

honestly, he's pretty scared of becoming a father, he has tons of work to do and his brothers really hate him sometimes, what if he can't give the baby what they need?

lucifer never shared his worries though, he was excited to meet your child regardless and they kind of ebbed away with time

this man was already protective, but now he has evolved

you can't even carry a purse without him taking over, you don't have to go to rad if you don't feel like it and he brings you some sort of healthy snack every few hours

also he wants to rub your stomach 24/7 but, for now, pride prevents him from doing so, but he does it every time (he thinks) you're asleep

Diavolo

you were sick randomly one morning, and diavolo thought you just have the cold or flu

so he treats you as if you're sick, he lets you stay in bed and makes sure you're hydrated it's weird you don't have a fever, though

but you kept getting sick, especially in mornings, and seemed fine otherwise

one day, diavolo found string cheese at the supermarket and he came to show it to you, but you threw up at the smell

this is when he knew something weird was going on, he suspected pregnancy but he didn't want to get his hopes crushed if it turns out false

'barbatos, mc is sick and tired a lot, I brought her funny cheese but it made her throw up, I'm really worried'

well barbatos knew what you two did about a month ago, but sends a doctor your way just in case

oh diavolo is so excited for his baby when the doctors confirm your pregnancy

he's so excited you might have to stop him from hanging posters about it all over rad

he also holds your stomach a lot, in fact solomon figured out you were pregnant because diavolo kept hugging your middle when he came over to burrow barbatos' pan

Barbatos

well he probably saw it coming due to his powers

he knew he should not want this, it will stand in the way of work, but he can't help but smile at the thought of having a child with you

so he doesn't do anything to prevent it from happening, in fact, he tells diavolo you might get pregnant soon in the hopes he gets some off time

luckily diavolo is a nice boss, he gives his butler all the free days he wants

barbatos doesn't know if he should tell you though, he ends up not saying what he knows since you might want it to be a surprise

then comes the day you show him the positive test, that day is one of his best days ever

barbatos is prepared to give you a massage if anything is sore, he will make you ginger tea to help with the nausea and will find the finest quality mattress and pillows for you, plus you're absolutely not doing any work on his watch

barbatos doesn't check the future further after making sure you will be healthy, he wants the rest to be a surprise for himself too

[hor3nee]

Oct Fem!Char Recs

Female RE Characters x Reader fics I read & loved this October. Go check out these fics!

Ada Wong

IN SICKNESS & IN HEALTH！• Ada Wong/Reader in which a certain mercenary takes care of you while you're sick. @wo8ngs RN: I read this while I had a flu and omg yeah it made me feel so much better. Was like giggling and shit. Final hc made me UGH I loved the very mild angst.

CHERRY • Ada Wong/Reader (18+) You'll take it like a good dog, won't you? @homicidal-slvt RN: She calls Reader good dog and that rewired my brain tbh.

Honey! It's a Murder Case. • Ada Wong/Reader after changing town, you, a detective, arrive on the crime scene after dead man's wife called, a woman in the red that seemingly was already waiting for you. @clitorphosis RN: Seriously beautiful and I wanted to tear open my skull reading it + doomed yuri bless.

Ashley Graham

I’LL DO IT ! • Ashley Graham/Reader ft. Leon (18+) You’re drunk, Ashley’s drunk. He’s pretty fucking sober. She likes him. Ashley likes him a lot, and he wishes she didn’t. @wokelander RN: I will kill for og Ashley biggest defender + the epileptic gf mention made me holler so hard loved.

Making Out with the President's Daughter • Ashley Graham/Reader Ashley wants to have a makeout session with you. That's it. @/MasterOfMemez96 RN: It's like under 500 words, short and really sweet!! And I'm really picky with fluff.

Hey, Scene Slut • Ashley Graham/Reader (18+) “You like when I fuck you like this? Sitting here all pretty for me while I cut you open?” You felt like she could say anything to you and she’d still be an angel in your eyes. @/zh0mb13affa1rz RN: Being so honest I read for the gore stayed for the smut and may have discovered something new about myself.

Claire Redfield

communion • Claire Redfield/Reader (18+) It’s over, and she’s back at your place the following weekend. @delphi-shield RN: It's like porn, right? But art. Like art porn. Like smut laced with gods word and thrown onto tumblr, should be the modern bible. God-teir read.

eat that girl for lunch • Claire Redfield/Reader (18+) she dances on my tongue, tastes like she might be the one (or every college girl has that “phase”) @thisfanisgonesorry RN: It's in 1st person. Also shit made me tweak heart breaking damn. Loved.

Ingrid Hunnigan

Brat • Ingrid Hunnigan/Reader (18+) Getting taught a lesson in obedience by your beloved girlfriend. @homicidal-slvt RN: No words just eating their smut and becoming increasingly depraved reading their stuff also the first ever Hunnigan/Reader I've found so thank fuck for that.

[fox-bright]

Fifty-five symptomatic humans in Colorado.

This is not human-to-human transmission; this is probably simple human corruption. While they don't go into it, I think we can fairly comfortably assume that the workers were either undocumented, or incarcerated (y'know the US still has slavery, right?), and were not given PPE when they were told to cull known-infected animals. Because if they HAD been given proper PPE, there would not be any infections, much less what might be more than four dozen.

So far no one is hospitalized; so far symptoms are supposedly mild. But every human infection is potentially the one that makes it jump to being a pandemic-ready disease, and we just went from "there have been four H5N1 infections in the US ever" to "there have been nearly sixty this week."