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Thinking about Fave leaving something early, because they're starting to feel a little off. Not completely sick, but more fatigued than normal, to the point where they decide to play it safe and go home to rest.

There's a bit of a walk, either home or to their transport, and they get soaked with rain. Absolutely dumped on. By the time they hit their front door, they're shivering and dripping wet, leaving a puddle on the floor.

And then, out of nowhere, they faint. Maybe they even leave the door open, so the cold breeze chills the rain soaked into their clothes as they lie there for a few moments too long, freezing, soaking, and (unbeknownst to them) ill.

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Sick Prompts III

"You feeling okay?"

2. "I literally never get sick. Why is this happening?"

3. "Relax, babe. It's just a cold."

4. "It tastes terrible, I know. But it'll make your fever go down."

5. "I don't think I've ever seen somebody pass out so hard while taking a nap."

6. "Why are your hands so cold?"

7. "You okay? You're never this quiet."

8. "Weren't you sick just last month?"

9. "Come on, baby. It's time to wake up."

10. "Just let me take care of you, okay?"

11. "Your face is white and your hair is a mess, but it's actually pretty cute."

12. "I poked your nose once and it made you sneeze. That's not normal."

13. "This is what happens when you don't sleep."

14. "Bless you."

15. "Do you know where you are and what time it is?"

16. "I made you tea."

17. "I just can't get warm."

18. "Stay here. I'll go get you a blanket."

19. "You look like death."

20. "Can you stay awake for me?"

21. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

22. "You're sick. If you overexert yourself, you're gonna get sicker."

23. "Go back to sleep, honey."

24. "Lightheaded, huh? Perhaps I should carry you to bed."

25. "I don't need to have the heater on when I can just cuddle with you, you human fireplace."

26. "Don't feel bad if you puke this up. At least you tried to keep it down."

27. "I don't care if I get sick. Give me a kiss."

28. "I'll try my best to not sneeze on you."

29. "You have a fever, sweetheart. Of course I'm not going anywhere."

30. "I'm right here if you need anything."

31. "Feeling any better?"

32. "I wish I could make your sick go away."

33. "Here's some medicine, love."

34. "Let me just swim through this ocean of tissues first."

35. "Sit up for me, baby. Just for a second so you can take your medicine."

36. "Don't push yourself so hard. Let me help you."

37. "Go lie down before you pass out."

38. "When were you planning to tell me you were sick?"

39. "Follow my finger."

40. "Sick cuddles are the best."

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Caretaker falling asleep with their hand around whumpees wrist, fingers carefully pressed to their pulse. It's the only way they can sleep tonight, with the assurance whumpee is alive.

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writers often make jokes about our search history accidentally looking very ominous or bloody, but my search history is like "anatomy of a lamp" and "birth certificate example"

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Whumpees who can't stop shivering, whether it's due to fever or the cold, no matter how many blankets are piled on top of them. Their lower lip trembles, their teeth chattering, and every muscle in their body is starting to ache from the repetitive movements.

Caretaker sits or lays right next to them, stroking their hair and holding them close, trying to squeeze some warmth into their bones, their shuddering breaths vibrating against Caretaker's side.

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few things more humbling than the realization that you really do write the same fic(s) over and over again

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i want it to be a really rainy week and the character starts out fine but just soggy and uncomfortable and naturally sniffly and cold and like soaked through socks and midway through the week theyre like shivering from chills that dont go away when theyre warm and dry and get worse when they go outside and theyre suffering and their tissues are wet and unhelpful ok their commute his horrible and by the end of the week they're sick inside cuddling w their so and enjoying the sounds of the rain outside

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A caretaker who is worried, and gets comforted by the sick character.

“It’s just a cold, don’t worry so much.”

The sick character smoothing down the caretaker’s hair. “You don’t need to look so worried.”

“I’m just complaining. Don’ worry so much about it.”

A feverish darling putting their warm hand on the caretaker’s forehead, smoothing down the wrinkle between their brows with their thumb. “Don’t worry so.”

“If you don’t stop worrying now, you’ll get sick too, and then I’ll be so angry with myself.”

“Always worrying about me. Stop.”

“Yes I’m sick, but it’s still my turn to hold you.”

Just a sick character who recognises that the caretaker has needs too. Not denying being sick, but just having an empathy that doesn’t stop existing when they feel miserable.

I just love it so much!!

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Currently melting at the thought of a caretaker saying the phrase “oh, that’s no good” or “that’s no good at all” when they’re sickie tells them they aren’t feeling well

Like they’re on the couch, and one of them confesses to feeling unwell. They’re shivering against their love, head rested on their shoulder.

“I think I’m coming down with something.”

And their caretaker gently places a hand on their head, or even gently kisses their forehead, grimacing while softly saying “oh, that’s no good”

Or they’ve been sick for a day or two, laying in bed, and their caretaker is taking their temperature with a thermometer to make sure their fever isn’t worse, only for it to be 2 degrees higher than before

“Oh, that’s not good at all.”

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Obsessed with sick cuddles. I love it when people have a bad cold and just long for affection and warmth. I love it when someone is sniffly and tired and feverish and cold, their body begging to be held and comforted. I love it when they lean into the touch of their caregiver/significant other with such pleading affection, they just need to be held. I love it when said caregiver holds them close and lets them rest their feverish head on their chest, whispering sweet nothings into their ear, because the poor thing just doesn’t feel good.

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Being able to hear someone getting sicker as the hours pass.

It was barely noticeable when they arrived, maybe a slight scratch to their throat every few sentences, but nothing anyone would catch onto. But as the time passes and conversations go on, their voice starts to weaken. It becomes gravelly, a few throat clears helping for the time being. Eventually it sounds like it hurts to talk, the low pitch occasionally cracking up an octave. By the end of the night, they’ve started coughing, their throat irritated with every breath forced through their vocal cords. If their voice is still audible, it holds a nasal quality that betrays any effort to hide their congestion.

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How I go to bed when I've got new whumpees to put through all the same old whump daydreams I've been carefully curating for years

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🖤 Whumpee Looking…Not Okay 🖤

There’s a distinctive moment at which Caretaker realizes something is wrong. Maybe something gives it away. Like…

Staring at nothing.

A nervous habit, like tapping a finger or biting a nail.

Breathing too fast.

Not breathing.

Talking just a little bit too loudly.

Not talking, all day.

Refusing food.

Visibly tired. Eye bags.

Dead eyes.

Eyes slightly widening at the sight of a trigger.

That very small shudder.

Gripping things. Chairs. Railings. Sinks.

Going suddenly pale.

Excusing themself to be alone.

“You’ve been quiet all day. Please talk to me.”

A tear escaping despite their best efforts.

The moment of realization. The way Caretaker’s heart just drops.

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reddie? in 2024? embarrassing tbh but here’s a fluffy little sickfic i wrote last year

He awoke to a shiver that ravaged him from the inside out and rendered every last hair on his body standing on end. With sweat matting his hair to his temples, Eddie rolled over to check the digital clock on his bedside. His eyes burned, but he willed them to focus. When he could finally make out the numbers, he saw that is was just past 4AM. Eddie shuddered. Even through the veil of delirium that blurred the room around him, he could feel a cumbersome panic rise in his chest. As he placed a sweaty palm to his forehead, the placebo pills and waiting rooms of his childhood burst forth at nauseating speed. His stomach lurched. He shook his mother’s nagging voice from the recesses of his mind and assured himself that whatever was wrong wasn’t fatal. He was fine. It was all okay.

Richie still lay beside him, snoring softly. His body radiated a heat too alluring for a chilled Eddie to ignore. Eddie snuggled up closer to him, assuming the big spoon position for once, and whimpered:

“Richie, I don’t feel good.” He winced at how childish he sounded, but couldn’t help it.

Richie rolled over with a grumble, instinctively pulling Eddie in closer and burying his face into the pit of his shoulder. “Hm?”

“Rich…” Eddie trailed off, a lump beginning to form in his throat. “Something’s wrong.”

Richie jolted upright and switched on the bedside lamp, taking in Eddie’s pale, sweaty form for the first time. “…Oh. Yeah. You don’t look so good, baby,” Richie’s brows furrowed, his voice still thick with sleep. When he saw the anxiety flash across his love’s weary face, he quickly added, “You’re alright, though. I promise. I’m right here.”

He placed Eddie’s arm over his own shoulders and gently helped him sit up against the headboard. He leaned forward and planted a prolonged kiss onto Eddie’s forehead. He was, in fact, burning up. Shit. This would send him spiraling. He pulled Eddie’s head to his chest as hatred for his estranged mother-in-law flooded every fiber of his being. It broke him enough having to see Eds like this without thinking of all he had endured when they were kids. As if they weren’t already going through enough.

“It’s okay. Everybody gets sick,” Richie whispered into the top of Eddie’s head. “You definitely do have a fever, though. We’ll have to check on that. What else are you feeling right now, my love? What hurts?”

Before Eddie could answer, he erupted into a coughing fit that sent him barrelling toward the bathroom with Richie in tow. Just as he entered, Richie found him hunched over the toilet, retching. Tears streamed down his face. He knelt beside his partner and rubbed his back in soft, circular motions.

“I know, Eds,” he murmured. “I know. You’re okay.” Eddie gasped for air with each fleeting moment his stomach settled before inevitably starting again. Whether he was short of breath from pain or panic, Richie couldn’t tell.

When the vomiting subsided and Eddie nodded upon being asked if he was done, Richie led him back to bed and placed the lightest throw blanket on top of him. “Okay. I’m gonna go get you some medicine and some water. Anything else?” Eddie shook his head weakly. “Alright, my love. We’ll take your temperature when I come back too, okay?” He reached out to hold Eddie’s face and stroked his cheekbone with his thumb. God, he was warm. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie opted to close his eyes for just a minute. A prolonged blink, really. It must have been longer, though. He only opened them again when the creak of floorboards indicated that Richie was back with supplies from their comically well-stocked medicine cabinet. He placed the thermometer and miscellaneous medications on the nightstand, immediately heading back toward the kitchen. Eddie heard faintly running water for a moment before the tap turned off and Richie returned with a washcloth and small bowl of water. He placed these items next to the others and reached for the thermometer.

“Okay. Let’s check that temperature now,” he said in that tone that always put Eddie at ease. The only voice that could bring him down from the panic. He leaned over his Eddie and placed the thermometer under his tongue, holding his hand while they waited for a reading.

At the tone, Richie removed the thermometer, which read 102.8. Eddie wouldn’t take that well. Inhaling sharply, he showed Eddie the number and squeezed his hand. “That’s alright. It just means your body is fighting extra hard, okay?” He felt Eddie’s already rapid breathing quicken, but he paused for a deep breath.

“Can you maybe take it again?” Eddie rasped, barely audible. His throat was still so raw from upheaving the contents of his stomach. “I just want to make sure.”

“Okay,” he murmured, kissing away a stray tear on Eddie’s cheek. “We’ll do it one more time.”

Once again, he placed the thermometer under Eddie’s tongue and waited for the tone. When he heard it, he removed it to see that it now read 103 on the dot. He gently pressed the power button and placed it back in the sleeve without showing Eddie.

“Yeah, honey. It was right the first time.”

“That’s a really high fever,” Eddie whimpered miserably.

“Oh, Eds. I know it’s scary.” Richie placed one hand on Eddie’s shoulder while he used the other to open the bottle of liquid cold and flu medicine. “You’re okay. It’s just a bug. Try not to let the number scare you too much. We’re gonna take that fever down, okay?” Richie extended the bottle cap full of medicine to Eddie’s mouth. “Drink this, baby.” Eddie obliged as Richie submerged the cloth into the bowl, wrung it out, and placed it on his forehead. He shivered against the sudden cold, but didn’t resist. “I know you’re already cold, but we have to bring this temperature down. It’ll make you better. I promise.”

Eddie nodded. He looked small. Smaller than Richie had seen him in as long as he could remember. He forced out the memory of a tiny, terrified Eddie in that dingy Neilbolt basement with his arm contorted at a sickening angle. He needed to be here, now. Eds needed him in the present.

Richie checked the clock. It was nearing 5 A.M. “I’ll call us both out of work a little later.”

“Do you think I’ll need antibiotics? Or maybe some infusions? What if this is serious? I think we should go-” Eddie winced. The thought of the hospital threw his stomach into another bout of nausea.

“How about this,” Richie began, “I’ll check your temperature again in an hour or so. If it isn’t any better, I’ll take you to the doctor. For now, though, I think it’s alright if we stay here. Just you and me. How does that sound?”

Eddie nodded weakly and reached his arms toward Richie.

“Yeah?” Richie whispered, climbing back into bed. “Do you just want to be held?” Eddie nodded again, a whimper escaping his throat. “Okay, why don’t you drink a bit more water for me and then you can try going back to sleep.”

Eddie obediently took some small, cautious sips before returning the glass to its place by the bed.

“Good job, baby. Now try and get some rest.” Eddie drifted off before he was even finished closing his eyes, but his husband remained awake, holding him close as he shivered through the sunrise.

…

It was only when he felt Richie’s lips on his forehead again that his eyes fluttered open.

“Hi,” Eddie smiled though his head was pounding and his body ached.

“Hi,” Richie pulled his love back into his arms. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mmm-hm.”

“Good. Do you think you could eat anything right now? Crackers maybe?”

Eddie stifled a gag. “Definitely not,” he confessed.

“I didn’t think so. That’s alright. We’ll try and get something on your stomach in a little bit. How about we just take your temperature for right now?” Richie swallowed as he asked the question, praying the fever had gone down. What if it had gotten higher? Eddie would freak. His poor Eddie.

Eddie seemed to be reading his mind as he took in a shuddering breath. “I guess we should check it again.”

Richie planted a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek before taking the thermometer back out of the sleeve. “Okay, baby. You ready?”

Eddie parted his lips and raised his tongue. Richie winced as he watched the number on the screen climb past 101, then 102. He sighed in relief, however, once it stopped at 102.4 and the tone sounded.

“See?” Rich felt an immense weight lift from his shoulders. “You’re getting better already.”

Eddie heaved a sigh. “That’s still high,” he mumbled.

“It is,” Richie admitted, “but I’m going to take care of you. We’re going to get you better.”

Eddie rested his head on his husband’s chest, allowing Richie’s steady heartbeat to ease his own. “Okay,” he conceded. “Do you want to just go back to sleep for a little while?”

Rich chuckled as he wet the cloth again and gently dabbed his love’s forehead and cheeks. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He placed the washcloth back onto Eddie’s brow and held him tightly, wishing the roles were reversed. As terrified of germs as his Eddie was- as much as he had been through- it all fell by the wayside if Richie was sick. And though Eddie would make him see a doctor for so much as a head cold, he remained collected. All that mattered in the moment was that his love got better.

That’s what Richie would do for him now.

As Eddie turned to his side and his breathing evened, Richie covered the both of them with an extra blanket and held the cloth in place on his forehead so the boy he loved would sleep soundly.

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Around what age did you start reading/writing whump?

Under 13

13-18

19-29

30-39

40-49

50-59

60-69

70-79

80 or more

I don't remember/I'm not into whump/see results

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everyone loves a character who doesn’t know (or won’t admit) that they’re sick. and for good reason. but there’s something equally sweet about someone who doesn’t hesitate to tell their loved one something’s wrong:

• “i’m a little dizzy… my head is killing me.”

• “i don’t feel so hot.”

• “yeah, i think i’m coming down with something”

• “you think i have a fever?”

• “i woke up a little sniffly and tired, but it’s taken a turn for the worse.���

• “can you come pick me up? … yeah. apparently i’ve got a high fever and they’re sending me home, but i don’t think i can drive like this.”

• “i’m really cold.”

• “i can’t stop coughing. and sneezing. … oh, and shivering.”

• “my whole body hurts.”

maybe this isn’t the first time they have been sick around caretaker. maybe it took some time but now they know they can tell their person when they’re not well. or maybe this is the first time caretaker has seen them like this but the sick one is simply too delirious to keep their guard up. either way awww