So I Said Fine, ‘cause That’s How My Daddy Raised Me If They Strike Once, Then You Just Hit ‘em

—Why is his pain so slutty?

The Official Sicktember 2024 Prompts List

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2024 Prompt-Based Resources [Link to Post]

Past Prompts Text Post [Link to Post]

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Sicktember 2024 AO3 Collection [Link]

Announcements [Link to #Event Notice]

** Text Version of the 2024 Prompts Can be Found Below.

“I’m not hungover, I’m just sick” (Or vise versa)

Too Much of a Good Thing/Overindulgence

Campus/Con Crud

“Great. I Got a Cold for My Birthday.”

Rogue Organ (tonsils, spleen, appendix, gall bladder ect…)

Dizziness/Vertigo

Borrowed Hoodie

“The closest doctor is probably hours away from here!”

Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker 

The Sniffles ™ 

Medieval Treatment

“You’re not fine, you’re throwing up/coughing up a lung”

Mononucleosis

Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas

"Who decided __ is ‘sick people food?’"

Toxin/Poison

Brain Fog/Spaced Out 

“My body is one big ache”

Hypochondriac Tendencies 

Medication Bribery

Anaphylactic Response

“You didn’t use my cup, did you?”

Under a Spell

 Tales From the Waiting Room

Summer Flu

Heart Condition/Cardiac Arrest

“This is non-negotiable"

Pulling a ‘Ferris Bueller’

Sick on a Road Trip

Past Prompt of Your Choice! 

Alts

Hospital Bed

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

First Aid Kit

Flushed Cheeks

Doctor's Note

Graceland 1x09

Sean Bean in Sharpe’s Honour

Dylan O'Brien as Joel Dawson

“Love and Monsters", dir. Michael Matthews

Toshiro Mifune as Detective Murakami in Stray Dog (1949) dir. Akira Kurosawa

Merry Whump of May - Day 2

(Original characters/story)

@themerrywhumpofmay

The blood covering his hands made this impossible. And the broken arm didn’t really help.

Hesperus tried to loosen the wheel on his motorbike once again. But his fingers, slick with rain, and oil and blood, just kept slipping off the wrench.

He sat down hard in a puddle on the pavement, panting. More water soaked into his pants and boots. He curled the arm into his chest and held it there. It didn’t really help with the pain but it made the injury feel more stable. The heavy pack on his back rested on the ground. 

Yeah, he still had to make the delivery.

Guess he was walking the rest of the way.

After a few minutes of panting, eyes closed and teeth gritted, Hesper dragged himself to his feet. Swaying, he edged around the two bodies. Stopped a moment. Eyed the belt one wore.

Minutes later, Hesper peeked out of the alleyway, his left arm now stable with the belt holding it close to his chest. With his other hand, he steered his shattered motorbike.

No one had witnessed the fight. No one would know what he’d done. They’d jumped him. It was their fault. It was their fault they-

“Need a ride?”

Hesper looked up and saw Rafael. He almost started sobbing on the spot. 

Rafael quickly got off his bike. “Hesper?” His hand went towards Hesper’s shoulder. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Hesper glanced back at the entrance to the alley, where the bodies lay hidden. “How did you find me?”

“The wreck alert went off. Biometrics too. I’m on duty tonight. Did you wipe-out?”

Hesper opened his mouth. He wanted to say he’d been attacked. He wanted to say it wasn’t his fault that he’d killed them. He was defending himself. He was defending the delivery on his back.

Hesper swallowed. Blood and dirty rainwater on his tongue. “Y-yeah. Wiped out. Arm’s broken. Bike’s busted.”

Rafel looked over the belt strapping Hesper’s left arm to his chest. Hesper could feel his eyes roving. The other cuts and bruises being taken into account.

Rafael nodded then got back on his motorbike. “Should get you to a doc, I know one in-”

“No, there’s one near here.” Hesper shook his head. 

It wasn’t a memory.

Just a strange feeling. 

He knew that there was a doc around here. A good one. 

Hesper looked up and down the street. No one. Empty.

“I don’t know of one.” Rafael said as Hesper slid gingerly onto the bike behind him. 

“It’s weird.” Hesper murmured. “I think the clinic is in the back of a club. A green door, maybe.”

“You think?” Rafael started the bike. “Did you hit your head?”

“Probably.”

“I’m taking you to my doc, then we’ll finish the delivery together.” Rafael said.

“No!” Hesperus shook his head, making the world swim around him. “No, this one’s in the-...” He searched this feeling. “The Wheel! It’s a block away. The sign, it’s-”

“A neon eight-spoked wheel?” Rafael sighed. “You’re right, that is closer. Okay, let’s see if the doc is in. Hold on tight.”

Hesper wrapped his good arm around Rafael’s waist, blushing. He laid his head against Rafael’s back as they sped off.

Y O U   L E F T   M E   T H E R E!! requested by anonymous

The Greatest Showman (2017)

Whumpay - Day 10

Main Challenge - Attacks, Mental & Physical - Panic Attack Mini Challenge 10 - Dialogue - “You look awful.” Original Work - (No title yet)

Kemp knocked softly on the apartment door then leaned his head on it. It was cool. And he was hot. And sweating. And so very tired. The door wasn’t opening. Cyril wasn’t opening the door.

Kemp swallowed hard and knocked again. He waited even longer this time. Still nothing. His heart rate ramped up and he felt his hands and feet grow cold. His stomach lurched.

Kemp tried the knock they had agreed on one more time. He waited and waited and waited. Nothing.

The edges of Kemp’s vision grew blurry and cloudy. He reeled back and kicked the door. Once. Twice. It banged open, the wood around the bolt cracked and splintered. Kemp’s hand went for the gun at his side: the gun that wasn’t there. Shit. He pulled the knife from his boot instead.

Kemp checked the living room. “Cyril!”

Sweat dripped from his forehead, stinging his eyes. He was so hot and freezing at the same time.

Kemp checked the kitchen. The kettle was on and boiling. “Cyril!” He tried to breathe but all he could do was gasp. His heart raced. As Kemp paced into the bedroom, knife ready, the floor tilted sideways and he had to lean on the wall to stay upright.

The shower was running. It sounded like a waterfall. So loud.

“Cyril?!”

“What?”

Kemp turned.

Cyril was there. Coming out of the bathroom. Towel around his waist. And safe.

Cyril was safe.

Kemp dropped the knife. The carpet came up to meet him. Kemp felt like he was dying. Why was he dying? Why couldn’t he breathe?

Cyril was saying something but Kemp couldn’t hear him.

Kemp opened his eyes.

When had his eyes closed?

He was on his side, his head resting on something soft. Someone was stroking his hair. His cheek throbbed.

“Are you with me?” Cyril asked, his voice coming from above.

Kemp turned his head a little. He was resting on Cyril’s lap while Cyril ran his fingers through his hair. The shower was still running.

“Yeah.” Kemp whispered. “I’m with you.”

“Good.” Cyril leaned down and kissed Kemp’s forehead.

That was new. Fainting was new too. But kisses especially so.

“You look awful.” Cyril smiled down at him.

“Can’t imagine why.” Kemp tried to sit up but the world tilted again.

Cyril eased him back down to the floor and kept his head in his lap. “Careful there. You had a panic attack maybe. Give it a minute.”

“Don’t have panic attacks.”

“Well, you do now. What happened? Why were you looking for me?”

“Didn’t answer the knock.” Kemp closed his eyes. The towel was thin about Cyril’s thighs and his body heat was soothing. “Thought something happened.”

“You had a panic attack over me?” Kemp could hear the smile in Cyril’s voice.

“It’s not funny.” Kemp grumbled.

“I’m not laughing.” Kemp felt Cyril’s breath as he leaned down over Kemp’s ear and kissed his hair.

Kemp turned his head. And met Cyril’s lips with his own.

“You are laughing at me.” Kemp breathed into Cyril’s mouth.

“Never.” Cyril whispered, and kissed him again.